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Ser. 4 MEMORIES OF A MUSICIAN MEMORIES OF A MUSICIAN REMINISCENCES OF SEVENTY YEARS OF MUSICAL LIFE BY WILHELM GANZ WITH ILLUSTRATIONS LONDON JOHN MURRAY, ALBEMARLE STREET, W. 1913 Aut Riguts RESERVED TO MY WIFE CONTENTS CHAPTER I EARLY LIFE Early life in 1848—My father, Adolph Ganz—Mainz—Nurem- berg—I first meet Jenny Lind—London—Her Majesty’s Theatre—Balfe—“ The great singers of my youth ”’—Jenny Lind—Cruvelli—Lablache—Sontag—My début as a violinist —Stories of Lablache—Thalberg and his opera—He takes my place at the piano—Alboni—The famous ballets—Cerito, Carlotta Grisi, and Marie Taglioni—Reappearance of Madame Pasta—Halévy and Scribe—Benjamin Lumley’s lawsuit with Frederick Gye over Johanna Wagner—Piccolomini— Mapleson at Her Majesty’s—Story of Titiens—Trebelli— Giuglini, Mario and Grisi—Sir Michael Costa—Amusing story of his discipline—His Oratorios—I coach Madame Ney-Biirde and Signor Tamberlik—The Grand National Concerts at Her Majesty’s under Balfe—Début of Arabella Goddard—Sims Reeves sings “God bless the Prince of Wales” for the first time—St. George’s Rifle Corps—I become a naturalised Englishman—Queen Alexandra as a bride j é ‘ ‘ : a 6 '. pp. 2-28 CHAPTER II MUSIC IN THE FORTIES AND FIFTIES English operas under Maddox in 1848—Anna Thillon—Weiss, composer of “The Village Blacksmith ’—Louisa Pyne— First performance of Lurline—Sir Henry Bishop—John Hatton—‘‘ Good-bye, Sweetheart ’—Henry Smart—S8ir John Macfarren—Sivori—Jansa—Jullien and his Promenade vii viii CONTENTS Concerts—English country seats—Orleans House and Nuneham Park—Princess Mary of Cambridge—I am cap- sized on the Thames—I visit Lord Dufferin and Sir Michael Shaw-Stewart at Ardgowan—My confirmation at the Savoy Lutheran Chapel—French political refugees— Orleans House and its habitués—A musical party of the period $ : pp. 30-50 CHAPTER III FURTHER RECOLLECTIONS OF THE FORTIES AND FIFTIES Opera in English at Drury Lane—Jullien and Berlioz——Madame Dulcken’s receptions—Alfred Bunn—Cremorne and Royal Surrey Gardens—The great Monte Cristo Row—Balfe and the Pyne and Harrison English opera season at Covent Garden—Balfe’s extravagance—How he composed—His popular songs—Alfred Gilbert—Story of the German Reeds in their famous entertainments—Jenny Lind’s Concert Tour . : . . ; ; ‘ pp. 51-76 CHAPTER IV MY CONCERTS My first London concert at the old Queen’s Concert Rooms in 1855—Ernst Reichardt—‘‘ Thou art so near and yet so far ’’—Leopold and Moritz Ganz—My second concert— Clara Novello—Viardot-Garcia—Moritz Ganz, the master of Offenbach—lI attend the marriage of H.R.H. the Princess Royal and H.R.H. Prince Frederick William of Prussia— My succeeding concerts and miatinées—A brilliant galaxy of helpers—Sir Julius Benedict—Madame Lemmens- Sherrington—Signor Bazzini—Mr. Sims Reeves fails me— George Perren to the rescue—Why Reeves used to disap- point—Louisa Vinning—Charles Santley—Miss Kemble— Lindsay Sloper—Madame Parepa—Madame Liebhart—Miss Emily Scldene—Master Frederick Cowen—Miss Louisa Pyne —Signor Randegger—A young contralto, Madame Patey— Madame Monbelli—Madame Norman Neruda—Miss Edith CONTENTS ix Wynne—Patey and Sainton Dolby sing at the same concert —Vernon Rigby—Joseph Wieniawski—Adelina Patti— Trebelli-Bettini—K ontski—Graziani—Scalchi—Signor Foli —Madame Carvalho, the original Marguerite—Mlle Marimon —Titiens—Marie Roze—Concert début of Albani—Edward Lloyd—Antoinette Sterling—William Shakespeare pp. 77-95 CHAPTER V MY CONCERTS CONTINUED The Ear] of Dudley—My concerts in his picture-gallery—Sarasate —The KEarl’s £20,000 Sévres dinner service—His great generosity—A sudden blow—My subsequent concerts— Joseph Hollman—Mary Davies—Minnie Hauk—Alwina Valleria—Maybrick—“‘ Nancy Lee” goes begging—I accom- pany it for the first time of hearing—Maude Valerie White —“‘The Devout Lover ””—Joseph Maas—Marian Macken- zie—Tremelli—Début of my daughter, Georgina—Isidore de Lara—Dudley House again—Nordica—Bottesini—His double-bass—Anecdote of Paganini—Nikita—Zélie de Lussan —Ben Davies—His engagement in Dorothy—‘‘ The Daisy Chain ”’—Alice Gomez—Emma Holmstrand—Elizabeth Parkinson makes her début at my concert pp. 96-109 CHAPTER VI CHAMBER CONCERTS John Ella, his great work for music—His Musical Union concerts at Willis’s Rooms and St. James’s Hall—Joachim— Madame Clara Schumann—Sik Charles Hallé—He first hears Madame Norman Neruda play—My quartette concerts—First appearance of Madame Camilla Urso and Madame Connean —Sir Augustus Manns—Car] Rosa and his opera company —TI become a director . . . + pp. 110-124 x CONTENTS CHAPTER VII MY ORCHESTRAL CONCERTS I take over the New Philharmonic Concerts—The first concert, April 18th, 1874—-Mlle Marie Krebs—John Francis Bar- nett’s “A Winter’s Tale”’-——First appearance of Madame Essipofi—Her beauty—‘ Dear Mama Ganz, I am simply famished ”—Titiens—Her compliment to me—Trebelli— Jean de Reszke appears as a baritone—Von Biilow— Rubinstein plays his own Concerto—Redeker—Braga—Auer —Janotha—Sarasate—First appearance of Saint-Saéns— Wieniawski—Henschel—Rosavella née Roosevelt—The Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh come to hear “ Egmont ’”—New overture by Alice Mary Smith—Sauret—Marie Roze—Ganz’s Orchestral Concerts—Montigny-Rémaury—First appear- ance of Herbert Reeves—Sims Reeves’s offer to me—His wonderful singing at my concert—First appearance of Sophie Menter—First performance of Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique—Berlioz’s Roméo et Juliette—Gluck’s Orpheus— Menter’s eccentricity—Her cat, “‘ Klecks ”—First perform- ance of Liszt’s Dante—First appearance of Agnes Hunting- ton—First appearance of Vladimir de Pachmann—End of the concerts—My difficulties : ; - pp. 125-153 CHAPTER VIII MY FIRST VISIT TO PARIS, ETC, My first visit to Paris—I see the troops pass before Napoleon III and the Empress Eugénie—I visit the gala performance at the Opera—Rossini—The three occasions on which I have played before Queen Victoria—The Prince Consort and the Great Exhibition of 1851—Meyerbeer—My pupils—Three Viceroys—The Ladies Spencer Churchill—The Countess of Warwick and Lady Algernon Gordon Lennox—Miss Braddon pp. 164-160 CONTENTS xi CHAPTER IX RECOLLECTIONS OF RICHARD WAGNER I first meet Wagner—He conducts at the Albert Hall—I attend the Second Cycle of The Ring at Bayreuth—King Louis of Bavaria—I attend a reception at Wagner’s house—‘“‘ Wahn- fried ’-—Wagner’s performances in Paris—‘‘ Bravo les chiens !’—I hear Tristan and Isolde at Munich—The Prince Regenten Theater. ‘ : : . pp. 170-182 CHAPTER X SOME GREAT PERSONALITIES I meet the Abbé Liszt at Bayreuth and in London—Gounod at Tavistock House—Mrs. Weldon—Roméo et Juliette in Paris-—I: attend the special performances—An annoying incident—Gounod chez lui—I accompany his son to a con- cert at the Conservatoire—Ambroise Thomas—Léo Delibes —Madame Patti’s Christmas-tree—Two great pianists— Rubinstein—Hans von Biilow—His grimaces while playing pp. 183-195 CHAPTER XI MADAME ADELINA PATTI Her wonderful career—Enthusiasm at Swansea—‘‘A Royal Progress ’”—Annual charity concerts at Swansea, Brecon, and Neath—Life at Craig-y-nos—A kind chatelaine—Her Bijou Theatre—The Albert Hall concerts—How Patti practised— Her marriage with Baron Cederstrém—Sir George Faudel- Phillips’s joke—Patti’s many escapes from death—Her wonderful sdng-froid—Her dresses and jewellery—Some musical amateurs I have known . . - pp. 196-213 CONTENTS CHAPTER XII PARTIES AND POLITICIANS Private concerts at Mr. Alfred de Rothschild’s—-The Prince of Wales and other guests—Madame Patti and a fee of £1,000—M. Jacoby—Mr. Charrington’s private concert— Story of three prima donnas—Baroness de Reuter’s recep- tions—Music at Lord and Lady Randolph Churchill’s— Mentmore—I meet Disraeli—A recollection of the Rt. Hon. W. E. Gladstone—Tring Park—Sir Alexander Cockburn pp. 214-235 CHAPTER XIII MY ITALIAN TOUR I attend the first performance of Mascagni’s I Rantzau in Florence—My notice of it in the Daily News—Rome— Clement Scott and I continue the journey—A dinner-party of celebrities—Cardinal Rampolla—Madame Ristori—Naples Scott goes on to Egypt and India—Pisa—Genoa— Paga- nini’s violin—I visit Verdi at the Palazzo Doria—His Falstaff — Nice — Monte Carlo — Cannes — Turin —Milan —Signor Ricordi and his great publishing house—Venice— Farewell performance at the Teatro Rossini to Tamburlini— His triumph—The audience sings with him . pp. 236-265 CHAPTER XIV NOTABLE MUSICIANS Sir Julius Benedict—Edouard Silas—Sir Arthur Sullivan—He pays me @ compliment—M. Camille Saint-Saéns—I arrange @ concert for him—I meet Tschaikowsky—Leschetizky— Richard Stauss ‘ 3 ge. Ses » pp. 256-273 CONTENTS xiii CHAPTER XV RECOLLECTIONS OF KING EDWARD, ETC. Lord Dupplin’s dinner-party My Masonic Jubilee — King Edward at Warwick Castle—His joke about Madame Clara Butt and myself—Sir Augustus Harris—The New Meister- singers’ Club—Maurice Farkoa’s first appearance—I engage Miss Pauline Joran—‘‘ Westminster Bridge’—The Mar- chesis—‘ Mamma, Puzzi”—A telegram after midnight—A scare at Manchester : s 7 - pp. 274-288 CHAPTER XVI CHARITY CONCERTS AND DINNERS Royal concert for the restoration of Kew Church—H.R.H. Prin- My cess Mary, Duchess of Teck—An array of stars—Concert at the German Embassy—The Crown PrinceF rederick William’s thoughtfulness—Lady Lansdowne’s concert—I go to Paris to get M. Alvarez—A ‘kidnapped’ singer—Charity dinners—The German Hospital dinner—Royal General Theatrical Fund Dinners—Middlesex Hospital—The Throat Hospital—The Newspaper Press Fund - pp. 289-304 CHAPTER XVII MY JUBILEE CONCERTS, ETC. Jubilee Concert in 1898—Dinner at Lord Blyth’s—My Diamond Jubilee Concert—Lady Bancroft’s speech—Signa- tures in the autograph album—Recollections of Charles Kean—Other great English actors. + pp. 305-314 xiv CONTENTS CHAPTER XVIII MODERN ARTISTS I HAVE KNOWN Jean de Reszke comes out as a baritone—I introduce Madame Melba to the English public—-Carl Rosa forgets an ap- pointment—Tetrazzini —Destinn—Calvé—Nordica— Kirkby Lunn—Ada Crossley—Clara Butt—Ruth Vincent—Maggie Teyte—Aino Ackté—Huge fees paid to modern singers— Modern violinists—Ysaye—His ‘‘ quick change ’’—Kreisler— Elman — Modern.’ cellists — Hollman — Casals — Gérardy— Modern pianists—Paderewski—Eugen d’Albert—Godowsky —Busoni—Madame Carreiio—Her jubilee—Robert Hichens as musical critic—Conductors, past and present—Richter— His wonderful memory—Thomas Beecham—An interesting letter from him—Nikisch—He pays me a visit—Henry J. Wood—Landon Ronald—Sir Edward Elgar—Sir Hubert Parry—Sir Charles Villiers Stanford—Norman O’Neili— Dr. Vaughan Williams—Walford Davies and the Temple Church... rs ; 7 ; : pp. 316-340 CHAPTER XIX MY BENEFIT CONCERT Our golden wedding—Wilhelm Kuhe—Benefit concert at the Albert Hal =... wwe opp, 341-348 List or My ComPostrions ji + pp. 349-350 INDEX . . ‘ , . . . + pp. 351-357 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS WILHELM GANZ ; . ‘ A Frontispiece FACING PAGH ADOLPH GANZ ‘ - i si 4 WILHELM Ganz as A YounG Man. a. 7 . 40 M. W. Batre ‘ a ‘ . is - 64 Jenny Linp . . F 5 ‘i - 7 LEopoLtp Ganz. ‘i ‘i r : 7 . 8 Moritz Ganz : . . : . ; - 7 EvuPHROSYNE PAREPA . . 7 a ‘ . 84 L’anaLysE (Musicat Union) . - 5 ‘ . 110 Hector Beriioz . A . is - A - 146 Ant. RUBINSTEIN . ‘ i i : 7 . 184 F. Liszr : : : : oS 2 . 184 CuarLes GouNnoD , ‘ < : 5 . . 188 Avetina Parti, In La Traviata. ‘ ‘“ . 196 * OporTeT Patt,” OR WE ALL WANT Patti (Pate) . 210 G. VERDI. ‘i A i ; . . 248 CaMILLE Satnt-SaENsS . Fi j ‘i é . 264 MapamMe MELBA . ‘ . . ‘ , . 316 Avena Patri. : . ‘ . 5 . 842 2 xv MEMORIES OF A MUSICIAN CHAPTER I EARLY LIFE Early life in 1848—My father, Adolph Ganz—Mainz—Nurem- berg—I first meet Jenny Lind—London—Her Majesty’s Theatre—Balfe—“ The great singers of my youth ’—Jenny Lind—Cruvelli—Lablache—Sontag—My début as a Violinist —Stories of Lablache—Thalberg and his opera—He takes my place at the piano—Alboni—The famous ballets—Cerito, Carlotta Grisi, and Marie Taglioni—Reappearance of Madame Pasta—Halévy and Scribe—Benjamin Lumley’s lawsuit with Frederick Gye over Johanna Wagner—Piccolomini— Mapleson at Her Majesty’s—Titiens—Trebelli—Giuglini, Mario and Grisi—Sir Michael Costa—Amusing story of his discipline—His oratorios—I coach Madame WNey-Biirde and Signor Tamberlik—The Grand National Concerts at Her Majesty’s under Balfe—Début of Arabella Goddard— Sims Reeves sings “God bless the Prince of Wales” for the first time—St. George’s Rifle Corps—I become a naturalised Englishman—Queen Alexandra as a bride. I HAVE been so often asked by my musical and other friends to write my reminiscences that at last I have made up my mind to do so, and I hope these lines will be of interest to them, as well as to my younger colleagues. Although I am conscious of my literary shortcomings, I think I can speak of many musical facts and 1 2 EARLY LIFE events which have happened during my long career in England that may perhaps prove acceptable to my readers. I was a boy of fourteen when I came to Lon- don with my father in 1848, having been born on November 6th, 1883. My father, Adolph Ganz, had been for more than twenty-five years Kapellmeister at the Opera at Mainz, on the Rhine, and the Grand-duke of Hesse-Darm- stadt bestowed on him the title of Grossherzog- licher Hofkapellmeister—Grand Ducal Court Conductor. He brought the opera there to a high pitch of perfection. It was his forte that he could conduct most of the classical operas from memory—I mean, without having the score before him—and could also write out each orchestral part from memory. Furthermore, although self-taught, he could play every instru- ment in the orchestra. My father saw the great Napoleon at Mainz, and remembered a grand parade in the Schloss- platz, when Napoleon called a soldier out of the ranks and pinned the légion d@honneur on his breast. I had the good fortune, as a boy, to be engaged to play in the orchestra under his direction, first the triangle, bass-drum, and cymbals, and afterwards the second violin. I thus became acquainted in early life with most of the operas then being performed at the theatre in Mainz, and they were constantly changed. JENNY LIND 3 The répertoire consisted of the classical operas of Gluck, Mozart, Beethoven, and Weber, as well as French operas by Méhul, Hérold, Boiel- dieu, Auber, Adolph Adam, and a few Italian operas by Bellini, Donizetti, and Spontini—the latter being then general director of music to the King of Prussia in Berlin. I also perfected myself in pianoforte-playing, the rudiments of which I had learned from my eldest sister Emilie. I had learnt to play the violin from a cousin of my father’s, and could also play the flute and the guitar, and I was fortunately able to read music off at sight with great facility. After leaving Mainz my father was engaged for the post of conductor at the Stadt Theater (town theatre) at Nuremberg during the years 1846 and 1847. I used to be at the piano during the rehearsals of the soloists and the choruses, and also conducted several musical plays on my own account and met with much encouragement from the artists of the Opera. I accompanied Jenny Lind on the piano behind the stage when she appeared as a guest at the Stadt Theater in La Figlia del Reggimento on December 11th, 1846, in the Lesson Scene, and at the conclusion of the opera she came up to. me and complimented me on my playing, say- ing, ‘““You haye accompanied me extremely well, and I am very satisfied.” This, I remember, pleased me very much, 4 EARLY LIFE for even at that time-she was a very great star. When my father and I came to England in 1848, I find I made the following entry in my diary : “ Friday, Feb. 18th.—Left Mainz. ... We arrived in London on Sunday night, 10.30, and drove to Brydges Street. ‘“* Monday.—Went to see Balfe, who received us in a very friendly way ; then went for a walk. I cannot describe the impression it made upon me; so many beautiful shops, and so many car- riages that one could not walk in the road, but had to keep to the pavement. ‘““In the evening went across to Drury Lane Theatre and saw the opera. Berlioz was con- ducting Figaro.” The late Michael William Balfe, composer of the ever-popular Bohemian Girl and many other operas, was the conductor at Her Majesty’s Theatre, and Mr. Benjamin Lumley was the director. Balfe had known my father before, and had suggested his coming and settling here. In a letter dated December 3rd, 1847, he wrote as follows . “J will do all in my power for your son; at all events, he shall have the triangle.” And, true to his word, when we came Balfe engaged me to play in the orchestra, first the triangle and a year after as second violin. In that year I had the good fortune to hear “‘ The ADOLPH GANZ. JENNY LIND 5 Swedish Nightingale,” as Jenny Lind was called —in all her various operatic réles, such as Amina in La Sonnambula, and Maria in La Figlia del Reggimento. 1 shall never forget the impression she made upon me. I marvelled at the artist who was at once so great a singer and so fine an actress. She used her voice, which was of rare beauty in every note, as an instru- ment, doing with it what she liked. As Amina her singing showed such depth of feeling as to touch all hearts. In a wonderful cadenza to Ah non credea she sustained a long note until it died away in the softest pianissimo. Her dramatic acting in this part carried everything before it, and the enthusiasm of the audience knew no bounds. The lively part of Maria she also acted and sang to perfection, especially in the Lesson Scene, in the second act, into which she introduced a cadenza consisting of scales, roulades, and shakes lasting for several minutes and then threw her music down and sang with Belletti (the celebrated baritone who acted the part of Sulpizio the serjeant) marching up and down and singing “ Rataplan”’ with him, imi- tating the drums. She created a perfect furore whenever she appeared. On referring to my diary, I find the following note: ‘“* Wednesday was the first rehearsal of Jenny Lind. She sang splendidly, and the whole orchestra and personnel applauded tremendously. “ Thursday, May 4th, was the performance of 6 EARLY LIFE Sonnambula. The Opera-house was packed full with people. The Queen, the Duchess of Gant [Kent], the Queen-dowager, and the Duke of Wellington were there. After the first act ‘God save the Queen’ was sung, and the Queen herself stood up and bowed to the public. Then the cheering began and they cried ‘Hurrah!’ and made an awful noise. Lind pleased very much.” The cause of this demonstration was that it was only then discovered that the Queen was in the Opera-house. It was a time of intense political excitement, and she had not been seen in public since the birth of the Princess Louise and the great Chartist meeting on Kennington Common. Signor Gardoni, a sweet-voiced tenor, was also associated with her in La Figlia del Reggimento, singing the part of Tonio, and he also sang Elvino with her in the Sonnambula. He was a very handsome young man, and married one of the daughters of the great baritone Tamburini— whom, I regret to say, I never heard. Unfortunately, Jenny Lind was persuaded in the zenith of her career (I believe by the Bishop of Norwich) to give up the operatic stage and sing only for the glory of God. The astounding news of her decision came in the spring of 1849 with Mr. Lumley’s announcement of a final series of operas in concert form. Only one took place when Die Zauberfléte was given. It was described as a “ Grand Evening Classical Per- formance.” Jenny Lind sang the part of Pamina, JENNY LIND 7 and Lablache showed his usual droll humour as Papageno. I played the bells in his song. My diary says :— = W ednesday.—There was a_ rehearsal of Zauberflote. Balfe asked in French, ‘ Est-ce qu’il y a un bon pianiste?’ My father said at once ‘ Mon fils, mon fils!’ so I had to play the bells and was applauded by the whole orchestra. ““ Thursday, April 12th, was the concert. There was no acting whatever; the singers all sat on seats on the stage, the orchestra was as usual. The song of Papageno in the second act was en- cored. Jenny Lind sang very beautifully.” But, as the public showed no inclination to accept opera in this form, Jenny Lind was reluctantly induced to give six final perform- ances of opera in the usual way. She chose Alice in Roberto il Diavolo for her last appearance, and there was a great farewell scene: the audi- ence was loath to let her go. Thenceforth she sang only in oratorios and at concerts, which was a serious loss to the Opera. I will describe her Great Tour in 1856 later on. At that period (1848) Mademoiselle Sofie Cruvelli, who had a magnificent soprano voice, sang on alternate nights with Jenny Lind at the Opera, and therefore, being handicapped by comparison, did not create as much success as she really deserved. She was a remarkably handsome woman, with a fine figure, and one of her great rdles was Leonora in Beethoven’s Fidelio, which she acted and sang superbly. 8 EARLY LIFE Balfe, wishing to perform that immortal work in the most attractive manner, got all the princi- pal singers engaged at the Opera to take part in the Prisoner’s Chorus at the end of the first act. Of course, the regular chorus also joined, and the effect was perfectly prodigious. I ought to mention that Mr. Sims Reeves (of whom later) sang the part of Florestan in Fidelio, and held his own against all his Italian competitors. He studied in Italy, and was a perfect Italian scholar. Returning to Cruvelli, although she was a German by birth, her Italian was also perfect. Her real name was Sophia Kruwel, which she Italianised into Cruvelli. She did not remain very long on the operatic stage, but married a French nobleman, Baron Vigier, and lived in a wonderful villa at Nice until she died. Another operatic star at that time was the great basso, Signor Lablache. He always en- joyed singing the part of Leporello in Mozart’s Don Giovanni, and I remember an amusing incident that happened in connection with it. It was in his first song ‘‘ Madamina,” when he. recounts Don Giovanni’s easy conquests of ad- miring ladies, putting the number at mille e tre. On this occasion, when the phrase came again he repeated it in English—‘‘a thousand and three ’—and the whole house roared with laugh- ter. Lablache was never vulgar in these buffo parts. Another thing he enjoyed singing was the LABLACHE 9 Sextet, in Don Giovanni. Near the end he used to come in thundering his phrase with great gusto. Lablache was originally a double-bass player. When he gave up that instrument and became an opera-singer his voice was so powerful that Weber, on hearing him sing, said, ‘‘ By heavens ! he is a double-bass still!” Lablache was also the best Dr. Bartolo in Ros- sini’s masterpiece Il Barbiere di Seviglia, show- ing his wonderful sense of humour, as he also did in Donizetti’s Don Pasquale. Lablache was literally ‘‘ great,”’ being very stout, but he moved with extraordinary agility. One night I heard him make fun of his own unwieldy appearance. In one of the scenes he sat in an arm-chair and tried to pick up the handkerchief of Norina, sung by Sontag, of whom I will speak later on. Being extremely fat, he could not do so, and his vain efforts always created much amuse- ment among the audience. It may interest my readers to know that Lablache gave Queen Victoria lessons in singing. Then there was a baritone, Signor Coletti, who sang the ‘‘ Doge ”’ in Verdi’s now forgotten opera I due Foscart. He sang with immense pathos, and through his artistic singing and act- ing gave new life to that work and ensured the sympathy of the audience. Another celebrated singer of that time was Madame Parodi, who excelled as Norma and Lucrezia Borgia. 10 EARLY LIFE After the Jenny Lind fever there arose an- other star in the operatic firmament, namely, Henrietta Sontag. She had married a Sardinian nobleman, Count Rossi, and left the stage; but, when misfortune overtook her husband through political affairs, she returned to the opera and came out as Linda di Chamounix at Her Majesty’s in 1849. She was no longer in her first youth, and, coming directly after. Jenny Lind, her suc- cess at first was not great; but afterwards she appeared as Rosina in Il Barbiere and carried everything by storm. In the duet ‘“ Dunque io son” with Signor Belletti, and in “ Una voce’? her vocalisation was perfect, and, to crown all, in the Lesson Scene she interpolated Rode’s “ Variations ’’ (which were popular about that time) and created a great furore. The last variation is very difficult, consisting of arpeggios and chromatic scales, running up and down, which she executed with perfect ease, her face not betraying in the least that she was singing the most difficult phrases; on the contrary, she warbled everything con amore. In fact, it was a real pleasure to look at her face, while singing, as she was still very pretty. Lumley had en- gaged her for six months, at the enormous salary of £6,000, although the season finished at the end of the summer, and he made her sing at concerts in the provinces during the winter, and also in Paris, to eke out the contract. I made my début in London as a violinist in MY DEBUT AS A VIOLINIST 1 1848,-when I played these very “ Variations,” at that time a very popular violin solo (reader, don’t laugh!) at the Albion Hall, Hammer- smith. I felt very nervous, but got through the ordeal with considerable éclat. I find the following note in my diary : ‘** Thursday, May 18th.—I went with Mr. Milligan to Hammersmith, where he was giving a concert at the Albion Hall, and I played the Variations of Rode: I was applauded. I stayed the night at Milligan’s and the next morning we drove back home by omnibus: he gave me a shilling.” — I did not continue to study the violin, pre- ferring to become a pianist. In those days people preferred the piano to the violin, and no young lady ever thought of learning it or carry- ing a violin-case about in the streets. Twenty- five years later all this was changed, chiefly through the beautiful playing of Madame Nor- man Neruda (Lady Hallé), which gave young ladies a taste for taking up the violin, and even the ’cello and double-bass, and in many amateur orchestras you see ladies in great numbers play- ing all these instruments, which accounts for the fact that piano-lessons have become rarer. I often saw the great Duke of Wellington at Her Majesty’s Theatre in a pit tier-box, with his daughter-in-law, the beautiful Marchioness of Douro, and I remember they were together at a soirée one evening at the Duchess of 12 EARLY LIFE Buccleuch’s, where I was accompanying my friend, Sir Michael Shaw-Stewart, in his songs. I used constantly to see the Duke riding his famous white charger in Piccadilly between Apsley House and the Horse Guards, wearing a blue coat and white trousers. His funeral cortége in 1852 was a sight never to be forgotten. Queen Victoria and the Prince Consort were often present at Her Majesty’s, the Duchess of Kent sharing the same royal box. One after- noon, when the young Queen went to visit her uncle, the old Duke of Cambridge, who was lying ill. in Cambridge House, Piccadilly, a madman sprang forward just as she was leaving the house and struck her on the face with a riding-whip. Fortunately he did her no real harm beyond the shock, and I vividly recall the great scene that evening when the Queen and Prince Albert appeared at Her Majesty’s Theatre. The audience rose en masse and cheered her so enthusiastically that she had to bow time after time in acknowledgment of their cheers. Hitherto I have only spoken of the opera at Her Majesty’s Theatre, because my father, like myself, was engaged there by Balfe, and our sympathies did not run with the rival Opera- house. I shall speak later of the opera at Covent Garden, where I often had an opportunity of hearing the splendid performances. Balfe was always most kind to me—calling me ‘“ Gan- zino,”’ (little Ganz). The performances were a THALBERG 18 great lesson for me, and cultivated my taste for the best singing. I also played the piano at the chorus rehearsals, which were all under my father’s direction. The - celebrated pianist, Sigismund Thalberg, composed an opera called Florinda, which his father-in-law, Lablache, was most anxious to get performed. .The director, Mr. Lumley, ac- ceded to his request, as Lablache was a most useful member of his company ; Madame Sontag and he took the principal réles, but the opera only made a succés destime and was quickly shelved. I remember Thalberg coming into the room where my father was holding the chorus re- hearsal of Florinda, at which I was playing the piano accompaniments ; but as soon as I saw him coming I rushed away, and he sat down in my place and played during part of the rehearsal. I listened from afar, and was at once charmed with his exquisite touch and beautiful playing ; so I crept back quietly and hung on every note. I had not heard him play before, and I at once realised that he was a great virtuoso. In the opera by Alary, Le tre Nozze, given the same season, Lablache afforded great amuse- ment by dancing a polka with Sontag: the rest of the opera fell rather flat, and it was soon withdrawn. About that period another great operatic star appeared, namely, Madame Alboni. Her greatest 14 EARLY LIFE réle was the leading one in La Cenerentola by Rossini. In the last act she sang the great bravura aria “ Non pid mesta,” exécuting the florid passages to perfection — warbling the chromatic scales up and down in a most mar- vellous manner, as well as the arpeggios in the caballetta, by which she held the audience in thrall. She was a very stout woman, but had a very handsome face and wore her beautiful hair cut short, like a man, to suit the men’s parts that she took in the opera. She certainly had the finest contralto voice I have ever heard. Another of her famous réles was Orsini in Donizetti’s Lucrezia Borgia. She made the Brindisi Zl segreto per esser felice popular, and she had to repeat it at every performance. It is a Strange thing that, although Alboni was such. a great singer, she never drew such a big audi- ence as a soprano of the same merit would have done. I ought to mention that the unusual range of her voice enabled her to sing the part of Zerlina in Don Giovanni. Her “ Batti batti” with the violoncello obbligato played by Piatti was delightful. The part of Prince Ramiro, in Cenerentola, was taken by Signor Calzolari, who sang the florid music in a way I have never heard surpassed. He also excelled in the réle of Il Conte Almaviva in Il Barbiere, when he had to sing no end of bravura passages, the aria ‘“‘ Ecco ridente ”’ and BALLET AT HER MAJESTY’S 15 other numbers in that opera winning a most favourable verdict from the audience. In the Exhibition year of 1851 performances were given almost every evening at Her Majesty’s, while in previous seasons only three performances a week used to be announced, on Tuesdays, Thursdays, and Saturdays. One of the new operas performed was Auber’s L’Enfant Prodigue, in which the Parisian prima donna, Madame Ugaldé, sang most charmingly, and M. Massol, the French baritone, also took a leading part. The scenery and dresses were magnificent, and, in fact, the opera was sumptuously mounted. I played the little bells in the orchestra, to imitate the bells of the camels in the Desert Scene. There was a Ballet Divertissement after- wards, representing the principal nations, in which Madame Cerito, Madame Carlotta Grisi, Madame Rosati, and Mlle Marie Taglioni—the niece of the great Taglioni—took part. This was called the Pas de Quatre, but must not be confounded with the one in which the Taglioni, Carlotta Grisi, Cerito, and Lucille Grahn took part. At that period the ballet was at the height of its popularity, and took place after the opera, which was generally a short one. One of the most popular ballets was Esmeralda, of which the music was by Signor Pugni, in which Madame Carlotta Grisi and M. Perrot took part, dancing a duet called ‘‘ La Truandaise,” which created a great sensation. 3 16 EARLY LIFE Another ballet, composed by Adolph Adam, called La Giselle, was a great favourite. It was performed at Covent Garden lately, in 1911, when the Russian dancers took London by storm, and made such a big success. This balet in the old days ran for several months in the summer and autumn season, varying with the opera, on alternate nights, and now, after sixty years, it becomes again en vogue ! An old opera which pleased audiences very much was Auber’s Gustave, ou le Bal Masqué, in which Mlle Duprez, daughter of the famous French tenor, Duprez, took part. The music of it is extremely pretty, the Ball Scene being par- ticularly fascinating. The story is the same as that of Verdi’s opera Jl Ballo in Maschera. During the season of 1850, at Her Majesty’s, the once celebrated soprano, Madame Pasta, re- appeared in her famous role of Anna Bolena in Donizetti’s opera of that name. She was then fifty-three years old. The audience was full of expectation to hear this great artiste; but, un- fortunately, she was quite passée, and sang flat; so her reappearance turned out a fiasco. This was a great pity, when one considers that Bellini composed La Sonnambula in 1831, and Norma in 1832 for her—two of the finest operas ever written for a soprano. The first one is still a great favourite with the sopranos of the present day ; but since the time of Grisi Norma has very seldom been performed, except when Titiens BENJAMIN LUMLEY’S LAWSUIT td sang the principal part. Richard Wagner al- ways thought very highly of this opera, and it may yet be revived. A new opera, specially composed ie Her Majesty’s, called La Tempesta, after Shakes- peare’s Tempest, with music by Halévy and libretto by Scribe, was given for the first time in June 1850, under the direction of these two distinguished Frenchmen. Madame Sontag was the Miranda, Carlotta Grisi the Ariel—her part being written only for her dancing and quasi flying about—and Lablache the Caliban. The latter impersonated Caliban splendidly, his physique lending itself to the part. Arne’s pretty melody, ‘‘ Where the bee sucks,” was in- terpolated into the music with good effect, and. the opera proved a great success. Halévy, with Scribe as collaborateur, also composed La Juive, which made a great hit all over the world, and is still a favourite in Paris. His other popular operas are Les Mousquetaires de la Reine, La Reine de Chypre, and Charles VI. Scribe wrote nearly all his ope tbors it was a brilliant colla- boration. In 1852 Benjamin Lumley temporarily gave up the direction of Her Majesty’s Theatre, owing to a lawsuit which he had with Mr. Frederick Gye, the director of the Covent Garden Opera, on account of Mile Johanna Wagner—the niece of Richard Wagner—who was engaged, through some misunderstanding, by them both. The- 18 EARLY LIFE brilliant advocate, Sir Alexander Cockburn, afterwards Lord Chief Justice of England, gained the action for Mr. Gye, and Sir Frederick Thesiger, afterwards Lord Chelmsford, appeared for Mr. Lumley. My father was one of the witnesses in the case. Mademoiselle Piccolomini was brought out by Lumley at Her Majesty’s Theatre in 1856. She was the first to sing the leading réle in Verdi’s La Traviata. She was a little woman, but rather handsome, with fine, even features. It used to be said that she would never succeed in being able to shake, although she worked very hard at this accom- plishment, and in this particular opera it was so necessary to sing a shake, the arias being full of trills as well as runs, chromatic scales, and brilliant bravura passages. However, she got through all these difficulties with much credit to herself. I remember well a certain evening on which she sang La Traviata, because Mr. Charles Bra- ham, son of the celebrated John Braham, took the part of Alfredo in that opera, which he had studied with me, and had previously studied in Italy, and it was his first appearance at the opera here. Naturally he felt very nervous, and so was his sister Frances, Countess of Waldegrave, who had previously asked me to remain with her on that memorable occasion at her house in Carlton Gardens until after the TITIENS 19 performance was over. The result was most favourable to Mr. Braham, and Lady Walde- grave was overjoyed, and presented Mademoiselle Piccolomini with a very handsome piece of jewellery as a mark of her gratitude for singing with her brother. Mademoiselle Piccolomini gave up her operatic career while rather young, as she married an Italian nobleman and lived afterwards in Rome. In 1862 Colonel J. H. Mapleson opened at Her Majesty’s Theatre, beginning a new season with the following talented singers, who be- came great favourites with the English public, namely, Theresa Titiens, Trebelli, Giuglini, as well as a host of new operatic stars. Mapleson had the honour of introducing Gounod’s Faust on June 12th, 1863, and Bizet’s Carmen on June 22nd, 1878. Both operas met at once with the greatest success—how different from their cold reception in Paris, when they entirely failed to please the Parisian public! It is a curious comment on the suggestion that the English are not a musical nation that these famous operas were at once appreciated in this country. Titiens was engaged by Mapleson in rather an amusing way. She was singing in Vienna at the time. Gye and Mapleson had both heard of her success. Gye sent his manager, the father of the late Sir Augustus Harris, to interview her in Vienna and arrange terms. 20 EARLY LIFE Mapleson, learning of this, started: off post- haste to Vienna himself, interviewed her, and, with his usual address persuaded her then and there to sign a contract to sing for him for several years. To those who knew her, as I did later, as a most sympathetic and kind-hearted artiste, it was a surprise to learn that she at one time used to suffer from a bad temper; and in these out- bursts she felt a strong desire to smash anything that came handy. Finding this a somewhat expensive amusement, her sister used from time to time to buy 1s. 6d. worth of cheap. china, which was placed on the mantelpiece and shelves ready for emergencies. She also related how at last she was cured of this failing. She was sit- ting at supper after a concert at a provincial town when the manager made some remark which annoyed her. As usual, she took the first thing that came to her hand, a soda-water bottle, and flung it at him. The manager was sitting at the table with his back to the window. The bottle missed him, smashed through the window, and nearly killed a casual passer-by. This, she says, gave her such a shock that she was com- pletely cured of her failing. I may here mention that when I first came to England I sometimes had, in the intervals of a busy life, an opportunity of hearing the per- formances at Covent Garden, and was particu- larly charmed with the singing of Madame Giulia MARIO AND GRISI 21 Grisi and also of Signor Mario, who had the finest tenor voice I have ever listened to. There was something so suave in his voice, which was so mellow and thoroughly Italian in timbre that you could not resist being entranced when you heard him. His finest réles were Almaviva in Il Barbiere, and Raoul in Les Huguenots, in which he sang with Grisi, who was superb as Valentine. I often played for him at private parties, at which he occasionally sang John Hatton’s favourite ballad, ‘‘ Good-bye, Sweet- heart,” pronouncing the English words very well. JI also used to accompany Madame Grisi, at various concerts. Mario was a fine and elegant-looking man, an Italian count by birth, his title being Conte di Candia. He was always a great attraction at the Royal Italian Opera, and created a perfect furore in such operas as Meyerbeer’s Les Huguenots (in which he was associated with Madame Grisi, who became his wife), and the Barbiere di Seviglia, in which he sang the florid réle of Conte d’Almaviva to perfection. His appearance bore out his nobility of birth, being both noble and dignified. In the dramatic part of Fernando in La Favorita by Donizetti, in which he took his farewell to the stage, he was magnificent both in voice and bearing. He was a most generous man, and gave very freely to all the people who served him: if a waiter brought him 22 EARLY LIFE a cigar he would sometimes give him five shillings for it, and half a crown more for his trouble. So many years of professional association with Madame Grisi greatly helped his histrionic powers, as she was a great actress herself and gave lessons in the art. Grisi died in Berlin in 1869, on her way to St. Petersburg where Mario was engaged at the Imperial Opera, and he never saw her alive after their parting, much to his grief. He and Patti were the first to sing in Roméo et Juliette when that opera was first performed at Covent Garden in 1867. Mario had a golden wig made for the part of Romeo, but after the first per- formance he never wore it again, but returned to his own black hair with additional locks. At the close of his operatic career he went to live in Rome, where the King of Italy be- stowed on him a government appointment, which he filled until he died in 1888. Sir Michael Costa was the conductor at Covent Garden; he was a strict disciplinarian, and the performances under his direction were very fine. On one occasion a member of his orchestra came late to a rehearsal, and Costa commenced to storm at him. “I am very sorry,” said the frightened musician; ‘“ but I could not leave home because my wife has just been confined.” ‘All right,” said Costa, “ but mind you don’t let this happen again.” SIR MICHAEL COSTA 23 Later on, when Costa left Gye and went over to Her Majesty’s Theatre under Mapleson’s direction he had occasion to find fault with the slackness and inefficiency of the stage-manager. Mistakes having frequently occurred, Sir Michael told him that, if it happened again, he would have to ask Mapleson to dismiss him. Shortly afterwards there was a worse blunder, and Sir Michael stopped the rehearsal, called for the stage-manager and told him he must go! The stage-manager, who was a man of striking ap- pearance, advanced to the front of the stage, made a magnificent deep bow to Sir Michael, and sang in a beautiful voice, ‘“‘ Good-bye, Sweet- heart!’ and then retired, backwards, off the stage. Costa lived in a fine house in Eccleston Square. The walls of his dining-room were covered with engraved portraits of the royal family, all of which were autographed. I used to visit him on Sunday mornings, and it was always delightful to listen to his animated con- versation. He used always to attend my orches- tral concerts later on. He conducted for many years the concerts of the Philharmonic Society, and also the Sacred Harmonic Society’s winter concerts at the old Exeter Hall in the Strand, which is now de- molished and its site occupied by the Strand Palace Hotel. Patti, Lemmens Sherrington, Sainton Dolby, Patey, Sims Reeves, Weiss, and 24 EARLY LIFE Santley used to sing the principal parts in his oratorios, Naaman and Eli. Eli was composed in 1851, for the Birmingham Festival, and Naaman in 1864. Unfortunately, they are now never performed, and are rapidly being for- gotten. He wrote them somewhat in the style of Handel, with fine choruses and melodious arias, but his greatest achievement was in the conducting of the celebrated Handel Festivals at the Crystal Palace. I am sure that nowhere in the world could finer performances have taken place than those held every three years at the Palace under the direction of Costa. The performers at these festivals numbered several thousands of singers and instrumentalists, and the effect of the volume of sound was simply overpowering. One could never forget the sub- lime “Hallelujah Chorus” in the Messiah, or the ‘“* Hailstorm Chorus ” in Israel in Egypt. I used often to put some of Sir Michael’s songs and. concerted pieces into my concert programmes, such as his fine “‘ Ecco quel fiero istante ’’ and his trio ‘“‘ Vanne colei.’””’ He some- times came to my concerts to accompany some ‘of his own music, such as a big soprano scena. Costa’s compositions, like Benedict’s, are now almost forgotten, although at one time it seemed likely that his oratorios would retain their popu- larity. I attended a performance of Die Zauberfléte at Covent Garden, which was a special revival, I COACH NEY-BURDE AND TAMBERLIK 25 Mario and Grisi both sang, the latter with delicious pathos. Mlle Zerr was the best Queen of the Night I had ever heard. Madame Viardot Garcia took the part of Papagena and played it in the most vivacious way, and. Ron- coni as Papageno was most entertaining. I also saw Madame Viardot Garcia’s impres- sive and unapproachable performance of Fides in Le Prophéte, a thing never to be forgotten. I well remember the premiére of Verdi’s Rigoletto on May 14th, 1853. The caste was very brilliant. Angiolina Bosio was an exquisite Gilda, and Mario, in his most mellifluous mood, brought down the house with La donna é mobile. As Rigoletto, Ronconi realised all the tragic pathos of the part. The basso Tagliafico was Spera- fucile, and the charming Madame Nantier Didiée Maddalena. She had studied the part with me. The great quartette in the last act was encored. In 1855 came the first performance of II Trovatore. I was asked to teach Madame Ney- Biirde, a prima donna from Dresden, the part of Leonora, which I did. She had a mag- nificent and powerful soprano voice. Madame Viardot Garcia was superb as Azucena, Signor Tamberlik was the Trovatore, and Signor Grazi- ani (the incomparable baritone) sang the part of the Conte di Luna. Tamberlik studied with me Meyerbeer’s Le Prophéie, and also the title-réle in Hector Berlioz’s Benvenuto Cellini. I was pre- sent at the first performance of the latter opera 26 EARLY LIFE on June 25th, 1858. Berlioz conducted it him- self, but it had no success, and was withdrawn after the second performance. My disappointment was great, as I had also coached Madame Nantier Didiée for the part of Ascanio. My diary says: ‘* May 22nd.—To Madame Didiée. M. Ber- lioz there: tried over Madame Didiée’s part for his opera Benvenuto Cellini, which is to be pro- duced at Covent Garden under his direction. He beat time and I accompanied this difficult musie prima vista.” In order to give Tamberlik his lesson I had to be out at Haverstock Hill, where he lived, by seven o’clock in the morning. I had to walk all the way because at so early an hour I could not get a cab, nor could I have afforded to pay for one in those days. He used to practise with me for some time—although he was always hoarse in the morning—and afterwards he had a fencing-lesson and then his breakfast. He was a fine artist, and was splendid as Jean of Leyden in the Prophéte, singing the aria “ Re del Ciel,” with its famous high C (better known as the Ut de poitrine) from the chest, with great effect. Tamberlik had not such a_ beautiful voice as Mario, but he had more power in his high chest-notes, and was, perhaps, also more dramatic in his acting. He had a fine, com- manding figure, and was what I should call a “GRAND NATIONAL CONCERTS ” 27 tenore robusto. He was a good musician too, and had no difficulty whatever in learning the difficult réle of Benvenuto Cellini—though, after all, what is it compared with the tenor parts of Wagner’s Ring ? M. Prévost, Tamberlik’s fencing-master, pro- mised to instruct me in his art in exchange for my giving his little daughter piano-lessons. The little girl came regularly as clock-work twice a week, and I had to give the lessons, although I was very busy and really had not time to get in all my fencing-lessons. M. Prévost was a re- fugee ; he taught fencing to the Prince of Wales and the members of the French Royal Family. In 1850 a series of concerts called ‘*‘ The Grand National Concerts ”’ were given at Her Majesty’s Theatre under the directorship of Balfe. The orchestra was first-rate, containing the finest instrumentalists in London; Molique, a pupil of Spohr, was the leader. The programmes were well arranged, and classical music was made a great feature of, though the symphonies of Mozart, Beethoven, and Mendelssohn were intermixed with dance music under the direction of Herr Joseph Labitzky from Carlsbad. He had made himself a name as a composer of dance-music, and was a contemporary of the old Johann Strauss (not to be confounded with his son, Johann Strauss, the composer of the famous “Blue Danube ” waltz, and of Die Fledermaus and a host of other 28 ; EARLY LIFE popular operettas) and another dance-music composer named Lanner. These concerts were also memorable for the bringing over, at my father’s suggestion, of the famous Berliner Domchor, the cathedral choir of Berlin, consisting of eighty boys and men, with Director Neithardt as the conductor. I never heard anything more beautiful as a com- bination of men’s and boy’s voices. A feature of these National Concerts was the début of the young pianist, Miss Arabella God- dard, who was then a girl of fourteen years of age, and played a fantasia by Thalberg with immense success. She became famous §after- wards as the best English woman pianist of her day. Being a member of the orchestra at these concerts helped me a great deal to appreciate classical orchestral music, as well as other styles, and so did hearing the best instrumental soloists, The chairman of the committee, the Hon. Charles Hugh Lindsay, was no mean player of the cornet-a-piston.. The cornet, which has now gone out of fashion, was then a great favourite as a solo-instrument.. After he left the army he became Colonel of the St. George’s Rifle Corps of Volunteers. At one of their concerts at St. James’s Hall, Mr. Sims Reeves sang for the first time, ‘‘ God bless the Prince of Wales”; the composer, Brinley Richards, was at the piano with myself, and we played the *GOD BLESS THE PRINCE OF WALES” 29 accompaniment as a duet! Benedict was the conductor, and there was a chorus to sing the refrain. Naturally the song, which has since become a National Hymn, was vociferously en- cored and repeated with still greater effect. It became most popular, and was always sung at public dinners after the Prince’s Toast, and at all functions where the Prince of Wales was present, or his name mentioned. Mr. Cocks, the music. publisher of New Burlington Street, bought the song from Brinley Richards for a low price; but after it had such an immense sale he presented the composer with a cheque for one hundred guineas. I became a naturalised Englishman in 1856, and was enrolled as a volunteer in the St. George’s Rifle Corps, which Mr. Richards and several other musicians had joined; but I did not re- main very long in it, as I found carrying a heavy rifle made my arm too tired and was bad for my piano-playing. However, I well remember tak- ing part in the Review in Hyde Park with the Corps in 1868, when the Princess Alexandra, as a bride, made her entry into London in an open carriage by the side of the Prince of Wales. Colonel the Hon. Charles Hugh Lindsay was then the colonel of the regiment. CHAPTER II MUSIC IN THE FORTIES AND FIFTIES English operas under Maddox in 1848—Anna Thillon—Weiss, composer of “The Village Blacksmith ”—Louisa Pyne— First performance of Lurline—Sir Henry Bishop—John Hatton — ‘Goodbye, Sweetheart’”—Henry Smart—Sir John Macfarren—Sivori—Jansa—Jullien and his Promenade Concerts—English country seats—Orleans House and Nuneham Park—Princess Mary of Cambridge—I am capsized on the Thames—I visit Lord Dufferin and Sir Michael Shaw-Stewart at Ardgowan—My confirmation at the Savoy Lutheran Chapel—French political refugees —Orleans House and its habitués—A musical party of the period. I RECALL a series of English operas which were given in 1848 at the Princess’s Theatre in Ox- ford Street, under the direction of Mr. Maddox. Mr. Edward Loder was the conductor, and he engaged me to play the violin in his orchestra. The charming Madame Anna Thillon was the principal soprano, and sang in Auber’s Crown Diamonds most brilliantly. She was a beautiful woman ; in fact, I never saw a prettier woman on the stage, and she was most fasci- nating into the bargain. She was married to a Frenchman, and I think had studied in Paris. Monsieur Thillon was the conductor of the Philharmonic Concerts at 30 “THE VILLAGE BLACKSMITH ” 31 Havre. The part of Queen Catherine in Crown Diamonds is most difficult to sing, but Madame Thillon sang it with the greatest ease, and all its difficulty seemed to vanish with her superb rendering. Miss Louisa Pyne also excelled in it in later years. Mr. Allen was the tenor and Mr. Willoughby Weiss the bass. Mr. Weiss, who was the composer of that popular song ‘“‘ The Village Blacksmith,” be- came in time a great favourite, singing Elijah in Mendelssohn’s great oratorio at the provincial festivals, and appearing at the Sacred Harmonic Concerts at Exeter Hall under Costa, and at many other good concerts. Edward Loder, the conductor, was the com- poser of a very melodious opera, called The Night Dancers, which was produced in 1846 and revived in 1860. Altogether the season was most successful. Another great English singer at this period was Miss Louisa Pyne, whom I have already mentioned in connection with Crown Diamonds. I remember her singing Catherine in that opera, and her vocalisation was superb. She had a clever sister, Miss Susan Pyne, who sang duets with her. She was co-director with Mr. William Harrison (the original Thaddeus in Balfe’s Bohemian Girl) at Covent Garden and they carried on English opera there for many years, producing a new opera by: Balfe, such as The Rose of Castile, or Bianca, the Bravo’s Bride, 4 82 MUSIC IN THE FORTIES AND FIFTIES every year. It was at one of their seasons that I heard the first production of Lurline, by Vin- cent Wallace on February 8rd, 1860, in which Charles Santley made his first appearance as an operatic singer, and created at once a great furore. Wallace composed many operas, of which Maritana is the most popular; it is full of melody, and is still a great favourite in the pro- vinces. He was, like Balfe, an Irishman, and first came out as a boy violinist. He asked me to give his sister some lessons, which I did. I remember Santley singing one of his songs, “‘ The Bellringer,’’ most splendidly. I firmly believe that if Balfe and Wallace had lived twenty years later they would have scored their operas more fully than they did—in the same way as Verdi scored his Aida, Otello, and Falstaff, and his immortal Requiem. Among the English composers now almost forgotten, but whom I should like to mention, as I saw a good deal of him, was Sir Henry Bishop. I remember him as a tall, thin, elderly man, with very little hair on his head, wearing a stiff white cravat. I met him first at the house of Miss Sophie Messent, an English singer who used to have an amateur choir, which per- formed some of Sir Henry’s compositions, with me at the piano. Miss Messent used to sing some of his songs, which are Shakespearian and thoroughly English SIR HENRY BISHOP 33 in character, such as ‘‘ Tell me, my Heart,” “Should he upbraid,’” ‘Bid me discourse,’’. and “Lo! here the gentle Lark ’’—with flute obbligato. The latter used to be a great favourite with sopranos such as Christine Nilsson, and Sims Reeves made Bishop’s ‘“‘ Pilgrim of Love’? and ‘‘My Pretty Jane” exceedingly popular, and he had to sing them at every ballad and non-classical concert, especially ‘‘ My Pretty Jane,” of which the public never seemed to get tired. At that period, which was fifty or sixty years ago, all his compositions were very popular, and Miss Messent’s choir used to sing his glees, such as “ Blow, gentle Gales,” ‘The Chough and the Crow,” and ‘‘Sleep, Gentle Lady.” Al- though his compositions are not much thought of nowadays, I think his ballads are better than many one hears at the present time; at all events, that is my humble opinion. Another English composer of those days was John Hatton; he was full of talent, and his compositions were typical of English music. He composed an opera called. Pascal Bruno for Vienna, and another, Rose, or Love’s Ransom, for Covent Garden, and a large number of beautiful glees and songs which have become very popu- lar, such as ‘‘ Goodbye, Sweetheart,”” which Sims Reeves sang constantly, and which was taken up by all the leading tenors, and also “To Anthea,”’ with which Santley always made a 84 MUSIC IN THE FORTIES AND FIFTIES great hit and had to repeat. He still sings it, and no other baritone could ever compete with him in the fire and energy he displayed in its delivery. Another composer I knew and admired in those days was Henry Smart, nephew of Sir George Smart, the friend of Carl Maria von Weber, who died in his house in 1826. Sir George Smart and Charles Kemble went to- gether to Germany to ask Weber to compose an opera for Covent Garden. This he did, and brought it to London in 1826. It was his famous Oberon, in which John Braham took the rdle of Huon. Henry Smart wrote a cantata called The Bride of Dunkerron, and many glees and songs, and was also a fine organist. He is now for- gotten, like many of his contemporaries. Sir George Alexander Macfarren, also a pro- lifie composer, was another friend of mine. He composed Don Quixote and Robin Hood, the latter opera being performed in 1860, with Madame Lemmens Sherrington and Sims Reeves in the principal parts. One of his most popular overtures was ‘‘ Chevy Chase,’’ and a serenata of his entitled “The Sleeper’ was performed at the National Concerts in 1850. Unfortunately, his eyesight began to fail, and he eventually became blind, but notwithstand- ing this calamity he continued to compose, dic- tating the music to a secretary. He was Cam- SIVORI 85 bridge Professor of Music, and became the Principal of the Royal Academy of Music, which post he held until his much-regretted death. Among the many great violinists I have known was the celebrated player, Signor Camillo Sivori, who was a pupil of Paganini. One of his most popular compositions was the “ Carnival of Cuba,” an imitation of the once popular “Carnaval de Venise,” composed by Ernst, whom I accompanied on the Jenny Lind tour, when he played it himself so successfully. Sivori’s playing was superb, and his execution faultless. He was a short, thin man, with bright black eyes and a narrow face, exceedingly modest and full of kindness. He once came to a supper-party at my house in Queen Anne Street very many years ago, when my friend, Madame Parepa, the singer, was also present, and sang comic songs in which we all ‘joined. Sivori and the great contra- bassist, Bottesini, often used to play violin and double-bass duets together and seemed to enjoy playing ensemble; it was a great pleasure to hear them. Herr Leopold Jansa, another well-known vio- linist, came over to this country from Vienna in 1851, and was one of the musical judges at the exhibition in Hyde Park. He played at a con- cert in aid of the Hungarian political refugees, and on that account the Austrian Government cancelled his appointment at the Imperial Court, 86 MUSIC IN THE FORTIES AND FIFTIES although he told me himself that he had for- merly taught the present Emperor, Francis Joseph, the violin. He settled here and became a much-respected teacher of the violin, his best- known pupil being Madame Norman Neruda (Lady Hallé). Jansa was a contemporary of Beethoven, and I have heard him relate that he had often played in that great master’s quartettes for the first time of their performance. Bee- thoven, he said, would stand in a corner with his arms folded, and occasionally spring forward to point out some error or make some correc- tion in the rendering. Jansa used to conduct the music at the Bava- rian Chapel in Warwick Street, and he asked me to play the organ there, a thing I very much liked doing, as the beautiful masses of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven were constantly sung. I may here mention that when the new Catholic Church in Hatton Garden was built (the one now called the Italian Church), I was asked by the Rev. Bruno di Faa to conduct the music there. I engaged a very good orchestra and the solo-singers were Madame Rudersdorff (then a celebrity) as soprano, Miss Julia Elton as contralto, and Mr. Swift as tenor—I have for- gotten the name of the bass. After a few weeks, the whole of the musical performers were dis- persed, including myself, because the clergy could not afford to keep up such an expensive choir and orchestra. JULLIEN AND HIS CONCERTS 87 I must now say something about Monsieur Jullien, who was the originator of the Promenade Concerts. They were always crowded to suffoca- tion, and the crowd in the pit where the audi- ence promenaded jostled each other and made a great row. The orchestra was built over the stage. I was engaged to play in it as one of the side-drum players. These Promenade Concerts only lasted a month, but they set the fashion of such enter- tainments. At the old Promenade Concerts, where the orchestra had often to play somewhat hackneyed marches and such-like music, they used to signalise the return of the leading theme by all rising in their seats, recognising, as it were, an old acquaintance. The effect was very funny. One of Jullien’s most popular compositions was called ‘“‘ The British Army Quadrilles,” in which the ordinary orchestra was reinforced by a military band and a number of drummers and big-drum players to imitate the cannon- shots. ‘“‘ Rule, Britannia!” finished this extra- ordinary battle-piece with great effect, and at the conclusion the audience always cheered Jullien with the greatest enthusiasm. This composition survived him for many years, and became a standard work at similar enter- tainments. It really was a sight to see him conduct, waving his baton right and left. He always wore an 88 MUSIC IN THE FORTIES AND FIFTIES embroidered shirt-front with a white waistcoat, open wide enough to show it off. I must do him the justice to say that he composed an opera called Pietro il Grande which had a fair amount of success when produced at Covent Garden Theatre on August 17th, 1852. I was at the first performance of it, and an old friend of mine, Mr. Whitworth (Jones), sang the part of Pietro. He had a fine bass voice and a good stage presence. He quitted the operatic stage upon inheriting a large fortune, left him by a relation upon the condition that he. should give up his operatic career. I often accompanied him when he sang privately at friends’ houses, and, later on, when he married, my family be- came very friendly with his wife and children. He often sang, at my request, some of the famous songs which he made famous. In 1851 I was invited to pay the first of my many visits to Nuneham Park, the Oxfordshire seat of Frances, Countess of Waldegrave and Mr. Vernon Harcourt, M.P. for Oxfordshire, to play the piano during some theatrical perform- ances and to accompany some of the amateurs of the house-party in their songs. There I made the acquaintance of Mr. John Braham, ‘father of the Countess, and doyen of English tenors. He was then in his eightieth year, but he sang “‘ Total Eclipse ” from Handel’s oratorio Samson in a way I shall never forget, and with an amount of pathos that touched my heart, JOHN BRAHAM 39 He also sang the well-known song, “‘ The Death of Nelson,” which I had the pleasure of accom- panying, singing it with an amount of fire and energy which was extraordinary in a man of his age. His high chest-notes were as fresh and pure as those of a young man of twenty-four. Sims Reeves and many well-known singers, such as Edward Lloyd and Ben Davies, continued to sing “ The Death of Nelson” at concerts, especially the former, who always scored tre- mendously with it. Braham earned a great fortune by his sing- ing in London. He created the tenor part of Huon in Oberon, singing the great song ‘‘ Oh! it is a glorious sight to see,’’ which Weber speci- ally wrote for him. Braham, although so rich, could not refrain from speculating, and he built the Colosseum (a kind of Diorama of Rome, which is now demolished) in Regent’s Park, and also the St. James’s Theatre, which happily is in a flourishing condition, through Sir George Alexander’s clever management, though in Bra- ham’s time it was also an unfortunate specu- lation and spelt disaster and ruin. Fortunately he had his wealthy daughter, Lady Waldegrave, to fall back on, who supported him until the end of his days. He had several sons, two of whom I used to coach in their operatic parts. The eldest, Hamilton Braham, was a baritone, Charles was a tenor, and the third was Augustus Braham, who, however, only sang at concerts, 40 MUSIC IN THE FORTIES AND FIFTIES and never went on the stage. Charles Braham _was the father of the present Lady Strachie. At Lady Waldegrave’s I had the honour of making the acquaintance of H.R.H. the Duc d’Aumale; son of King Louis Philippe and his wife, the Duchesse d’Aumale. The latter be- came my pupil for the piano and singing, and I used frequently to go to Orleans House, Twickenham, where we had music in the even- ings. The Duchesse’s mother was an Austrian Archduchess, who married the Prince de Saler- no, brother of the King of Naples, King Bomba as he was called, who was such a tyrant. She always used to speak to me in German, with an Austrian accent. The late Duchess of Cambridge and _ her daughter, the Princess Mary of Cambridge (the late Duchess of Teck) used often to dine at Orleans House. Princess Mary joined in the music, singing various songs, one of which I remember distinctly was Marras’s ‘‘S’io fosse un Angelo ”’ and also Mendelssohn’s duets in the original German, with the Duchesse d’Aumale. I always accompanied them on these occasions. The Princess Mary had a beautiful and sonorous contralto voice. This amiable Princess became my pupil later on; I often gave her lessons in singing at St. James’s Palace, and sometimes the Countess Apponyi, wife of the then Austrian Ambassador, used to come and sing duets with her. The Countess was exceedingly musical, and WILHELM GANZ AS A YOUNG MAN. 40) CELEBRITIES AT NUNEHAM PARK 41 could read off music at sight wonderfully well. On one occasion Queen Victoria came quite unexpectedly to St. James’s Palace to hear her, as she had been told about her singing and wanted to listen to it. I also met at Nuneham Park H.R.H. the Duchess of Gloucester, the old Duke of Bedford, the Marquis d’Azeglio (Sardinian Minister), the Countess of Shaftesbury, the Earl of Clarendon (who was then Minister), the Minister of Foreign Affairs in Lord Palmerston’s Government, Sir William Vernon Harcourt (a nephew of Mr. Harcourt), then a young man, who became many years later on a distinguished member of Par- liament and Chancellor of the Exchequer, also Mr. Chichester Fortescue, who, after Mr. Har- court’s death married Lady Waldegrave as her fourth husband, the two previous ones having been the Hon. Mr. Waldegrave, and, after his death, his cousin, the Earl of Waldegrave. Mr. Chichester Fortescue was created Lord Carlingford and became a Minister in Lord John Russell’s Government. He was an exceedingly pleasant man, and, like the Countess Apponyi, always spoke to me in German. Among the guests at Nuneham were also Viscount Chelsea, father of the present Earl Cadogan, Lord Dufferin, who had such a splendid political career as Viceroy of India and Ambassador at Rome and Paris, and Sir Michael Shaw-Stewart, as well as a host of other notabilities. 42 MUSIC IN THE FORTIES AND FIFTIES One evening Lady Waldegrave danced the Truandaise from Esmeralda with Sir Michael Shaw-Stewart amid enthusiastic applause. ‘** General Post’ was a game in which every- body joined, including the elderly Earl of Clarendon. When I was staying there in 1855, Meyerbeer was expected on a visit, and a room was pre- pared for him; but he did not come.. I was very disappointed, as I had just been coaching Miss Jenny Baur for the part of Catherine in his L’Etoile du Nord, which was produced at Drury Lane that year in English. The Crimean War was raging at the time, and I witnessed an extraordinary scene when I attended a performance of that opera at Drury Lane on March 2nd. After the first act Mr. Smith the director came out and announced that the Czar was dead. There was tremendous ex- citement in the house and “God save the Queen” and “ Partant pour la Syrie” were loudly demanded by the public amid tremendous cheering. I doubted if the news was true, but hoped at least that the war was at an end. I remember, while at Nuneham, going one day to Oxford by river with some friends. Before I started Lady Waldegrave asked me if I would call at the post office to see if there were any letters for her, and, if so, bring them back. I got the letters, but on the way back, as we were returning by rowing-boat, our boat upset MY VISIT TO CLANDEBOYE 48 through some of the men getting up in it at the same time, and we were all thrown into the rivér. Fortunately, I caught hold of a man who could swim, and so managed to reach the bank, but arrived at the house drenched to the skin. Of course all the letters, which I had placed in a side-pocket, were simply saturated, but Lady Waldegrave and all the visitors made light of it and had a good laugh over our adven- ture, and when the letters had been dried before the fire they were none the worse. 3 Lord Dufferin had often asked me to visit him at his country seat, Clandeboye, near Bel- fast, and in 1852 I accepted his invitation. The journey from London to Belfast took nineteen hours. Lord Dufferin’s first words to me were: ““Do you find Ireland a desert and the people barbarians ?’’ I remained there some weeks, and used to play to him in the mornings and afternoons for hours, while he studied—usually Chopin, as he was particularly fond. of that master’s works. His mother and grandmother were among the guests, also Mr. Hardinge, son of General Hardinge. Lady Dufferin was, as all the world knows, a delightful poetess, and composed some charming songs, such as ‘“‘ The Bay of Dublin,” and “ Katie’s Letter.” She was one of the three beautiful Sheridans, grand- daughters of Richard Brinsley Sheridan, the two others being the Duchess of Somerset and the Hon. Mrs. Norton. I greatly enjoyed my visit 44 MUSIC IN THE FORTIES AND FIFTIES to Clandeboye, and I heard afterwards that a hill on the estate had been christened Ganz’s Hill —a great compliment to me. When Lord Dufferin returned from his famous voyage in the Foam to Iceland and Spitz- bergen he asked me to come up one evening to Highgate. His mother, Lady Dufferin, and her sister, the Duchess of Somerset, were there, and his cousin, Captain Hamilton. Lord Dufferin was in wonderful spirits. He wanted to hear all about the new opera, La Traviata, which had been produced that summer and asked me to play some of the music. Then I had to play his favourite Chopin nocturnes and try over some Swedish and Danish songs he had brought with him from Copenhagen. He showed me several curiosities he had col- leeted on his voyage, and talked for a long time about his interesting experiences in the Far North. He read me a quaint example of a Lapp love-ditty. The Laplander is hastening on his sledge to his beloved one: ‘“‘Hasten, Kulnasatz! my little reindeer! long is the way, and boundless are the marshes. Swift are we, and light of foot, and soon we shall have come to whither we are speeding. There shall I behold my fair one pacing. Kulnasatz, my reindeer, look forth! look around! dost thou not see her somewhere—bathing ? ” As it was then midnight he wanted me to stay the night, but I said my father would be anxious ARDGOWAN 45 if I did not return, so he ordered a carriage to take me home. When Lord Dufferin was English Ambassador in Paris he asked me to visit him there; but, unfortunately, I was not then able to accept the invitation. From Clandeboye I went to Scotland, to visit Sir Michael Shaw-Stewart, travelling by steamer from Belfast to Greenock and from thence by coach to Ardgowan. I was charmed with the Clyde, with its scenery, which has a beauty pecu- liarly its own, and the fair Isle of Arran in the distance. Ardgowan lies on its banks most picturesquely. Sir Michael Shaw-Stewart, like Lord Dufferin, was exceedingly musical, and sang Scottish ballads and also the French comic songs of Levasseur very charmingly, in which I accom- panied him, as I had previously done at his entertainments in London during the season. Whilst I was staying at Ardgowan there was a tenants’ ball, and I saw for the first time the Highland reels and jigs danced by the native farmers and their wives, in which the guests staying in the house also joined. It was a real pleasure to see with what energy and excitement these people danced their national dances. Lady Octavia Shaw-Stewart, the wife of Sir Michael, was a daughter of the Marquis of West- minster (he was the father of the late Duke of Westminster, who was created a duke by Mr, 46 MUSIC IN THE FORTIES AND FIFTIES Gladstone), and he and the Marchioness came on a visit to Ardgowan while I was there. The old Marquis was very fond of music, and par- ticularly of the septette from Les Huguenots, which I often used to play to him. I also made my first acquaintance here with grouse-shooting on the moors. The shooting season had just begun, and Sir Michael handed me a gun and made me have a try; but, I am sorry to say, without any result! It was at Ardgowan that I learned to know the mode of living in these Scotch country houses, and noticed how well everything was regulated and the per- fect order maintained in their households. I kept up my acquaintance with many of the people I met there and at Nuneham Park for years after. I often met Sir William Harcourt in after- years. I remember meeting him—unfortunately for the last time—at a reception given by the Marchioness of Londonderry, when he spoke to me of the old days at Nuneham—adding that Nuneham now belonged to him. Alas! he was not long able to enjoy his new possession, for he died soon afterwards. I recollect, when I was staying at Orleans House, the Duchesse d’Aumale telling me that Her Majesty Queen Amélie, the exiled. Queen of France, widow of King Louis Philippe, was coming to her in a few days to hear her play some duets for piano and harmonium with me, ORLEANS HOUSE 47 and we had several rehearsals. On the event- ful day the Queen arrived, with her entourage of the old French nobility, including the Duc de Montmorency. She was a tall, stately wo- man, with a very dignified air. She compli- mented us both warmly on the music, and added a few gracious words to me. The picture-gallery at Orleans House con- tained a great many ancient and modern French pictures. Some of the walls were hung with the battle-pictures of the great Prince de Condé, for the Duc inherited all his property. The pic- tures and other works of art were given by the Due when he returned to Paris, after the fall of Napoleon and the Franco-German War, to the museum at the Chateau of Chantilly for the benefit of the nation. The Duc’s two sons bore the historical titles of Prince de Condé and Duc de Guise; unfortunately, they both died young, the elder, who was consumptive, while on a voyage to Australia for his health. The younger, whom I recollect as a sweet boy, did not long survive his brother; their deaths were a great blow to their parents, who were thus left childless. When I first came to England the French Revolution was then going on, and my father told me that the French King, Louis Philippe, had just arrived as a refugee at the Brunswick Hotel in Jermyn Street. There was, at that time, an outbreak here as well, led by the 5 48 MUSIC IN THE FORTIES AND FIFTIES Chartists, and Louis Napoleon acted as a special constable during the riots. I was staying with some friends at Brompton, who did not wish me to go home in the evenings by myself, in case something might happen to me en route. The Chartists smashed the large glass win- dows at Swan & Edgar’s in Piccadilly Circus, and did a lot of other damage besides. At that time I was being prepared for con- firmation by the Rev. Dr. Schoell, second Pastor of the German Lutheran Church in the Savoy, of which old Dr. Steinkopff was the Rector. I used to go every morning at eight o’clock to Dr. Schoell for religious instruction, and was finally confirmed on Palm Sunday, 1848. My diary Says : ‘“* Sunday, April 16th.—Palm Sunday: I got up early to dress, as I am to be confirmed to- day. The church was at 10.30. We boys went in: I stood first. The first of the girls was Countess Reventlow, daughter of the Danish Minister : next to her stood Fraulein von Bun- sen, daughter of the Prussian Minister. They both had pretty white dresses on, with veils on their heads and kid gloves. Then next to them were three girls in dresses given by the Church, as there is no need, as with us at home, to sub- scribe towards clothing the poor. They had brown dresses on and were dressed anyhow. All wore hoods, as it is not the custom here for a girl to go bare-headed, but to wear a hat or a hood. They looked ae like peasants at a wedding at home. . . ORLEANS HOUSE 49 In 1852 I was appointed, in open competition, to be the organist at this church. Many notable people attended service there every Sunday about that time, including the Prince of Prussia, who had to leave Berlin during the’ Revolution, and the Duchesse d’Orléans, who also had to fly from Paris. She was a Protestant, and on that account, I believe, was disliked by the French people. On several occasions when the Duc and Duchesse d’Aumale gave big receptions to their French and English friends, I saw the other exiled Princes—the sons of Louis Philippe—the Duc de Nemours, the Prince de Joinville, and the Duc de Montpensier, who married a Spanish Princess, the sister of Queen Isabella. They were all fine, tall men, very distinguished-look- ing. I generally conducted a small orchestra of good players on these occasions, and the recep- tions were always very gay and lively, notwith- standing the fact that the French people present were exiled from their beloved country. English society used to be well represented at these gatherings, ambassadors, ministers, and diplo- matists with their families being gathered there. I continued my career as a pianist and teacher of the piano and singing, and coaching up operatic singers in their parts, and got on re- markably well. I had many musical parties to arrange, engaging the best artists. At one soirée, given by the late Baroness Burdett- 50 MUSIC IN THE FORTIES AND FIFTIES Coutts (then Miss Burdett-Coutts) I engaged young Santley and Miss Gertrude Kemble (granddaughter of the great actor, John Kemble) who afterwards became his wife. All the political world was present that night, including the Earl of Clarendon, then Foreign Secretary, Viscount Palmerston, Prime Minister, also Samuel Wilberforce, Bishop of Oxford, and many other celebrities—truly a brilliant galaxy. CHAPTER III FURTHER RECOLLECTIONS OF THE FORTIES AND FIFTIES Opera in English at Drury Lane—Jullien and Berlioz—Madame Dulcken’s receptions—Alfred Bunn—Adolph Ganz and German Opera in London—Cremorne—The great Monte Cristo Row—Berlioz at the New Philharmonic—Balfe and the Pyne and Harrison English Opera season at Covent Garden—Balfe’s extravagance—How he composed—His popular songs—Alfred Gilbert—Story of the German Reeds and their famous entertainments—Jenny Lind’s Concert Tour. MonsSIEUR JULLIEN was the director of the Eng- lish Opera at Drury Lane when I arrived with my father in 1848, and my father often took me there. Hector Berlioz, the celebrated French composer, was the conductor. I heard many operas there in English, in- cluding Mozart’s Le Nozze di Figaro, the night after my arrival, in which Miss Charlotte Ann Birch was the Susanna. She had a very fine soprano voice. Miss Miran, who had a lovely mezzo-soprano voice, sang ‘‘Cherubino”; un- happily she died while still young. Sims Reeves and many other well-known artists also ap- peared. Balfe specially composed an opera called The 51 52 LES REUNIONS DES ARTS Maid of Honour for Monsieur Jullien, but the season did not last long; as a matter of fact, I think Jullien mismanaged it. I was, however, highly gratified at hearing these performances in the National Theatre, and seeing Berlioz con- duct. The orchestra was splendid, among the players being an old friend of my father’s, Herr Goffrié, who was one of the first violins. In later years he started a series of chamber con- certs on his own account, called Les Réunions des Arts in the old Beethoven Rooms in Harley Street. He brought out many new foreign artists, and I remember my uncles being engaged to play at some of them. Herr Goffrié after- wards went to California, and settled at San Francisco. Alas! no soirées of that convivial and artistic sort have since been established in London. During the usual interval tea and coffee were served to the audience, and they had an opportunity of mixing with one another and making the acquaintance of the artists; so they enjoyed themselves thoroughly. The Réunions were always well arranged, and only the best music was performed. I used to be the accom- panist at them. I remember going with my father in March 1848 on Sunday evenings to the musical recep- tions of Madame Dulcken, pianist to Queen Victoria, in Harley Street. She was the sister of Ferdinand David, professor of the violin at the Leipzig Conservatoire—the intimate friend MADAME DULCKEN’S RECEPTIONS 538 of Mendelssohn, who dedicated his Violin Con- certo to him, I find in my diary: ** Sunday, March 19th—After tea went to Madame Dulcken, where I accompanied Steglich (the famous horn player) on the piano. Molique and Berlioz were there. She lives in a fine house; there is a good piano in every room.” It was at Madame Dulcken’s house that all the most distinguished musicians assembled, especially those who left Paris owing to the French Revolution. There I first met and heard M. Kalkbrenner, a German pianist, who had settled in Paris, Mr. Charles Hallé, who, as every one knows, became one of the most important musicians in England and settled here, and Mr. Wilhelm Kuhe, who died here in October 1912, after residing in this country for more than sixty years, and celebrating his eighty-eighth birthday the previous December. He became, unfortunately, totally blind, and used to play the piano by touch only, but would play every day—of course, without music—for several hours. Hector Berlioz used often to go there, and also his wife, an Irish lady who was a great Shake- spearean actress, and before her marriage was Henrietta Smithson. Berlioz had a fine, big head and a Roman nose, huge forehead, and piercing eyes. Some of these pianists played during the even- ing receptions. Madame Dulcken often played 54 SIR MORELL AND LADY MACKENZIE Mendelssohn’s Concerto in G minor with Quin- tette accompaniment, played by my father, Herr Goffrié, myself, and two other instrumentalists, whose names I have forgotten; in fact, she was almost the first to make this lovely concerto known and popular—it was really her cheval de bataille. She was a very brilliant player, and a charming woman as well. Many years later her house was taken by the celebrated throat specialist, Sir (then Mr.) Morell Mackenzie, and he and Lady Mackenzie enter- tained there right royally many distinguished people and operatic stars, including Christine Nilsson, Trebelli, and Valleria, and many great theatrical lights as well, such as Sir Henry Irving. Sir Morell Mackenzie was particularly kind to artists, and they often came to him for advice, to be restored to health, and to get rid of their throat troubles; and to all of them he gave his services gratuitously. Many years later my son Henry decorated the staircase of this house for him in the Pompeian style, with four figures representing the arts on a terra-cotta ground, while underneath is a black dado with classic masks. The wife of Ignaz Moscheles, the celebrated pianist and composer, used also to give musical receptions at her house in Chester Place, Regent’s Park. I remember hearing from my father that Madame Moscheles told him, on one occa- sion, that she was expecting Mendelssohn to MENDELSSOHN AT CHESTER PLACE 55 come on a certain evening and asked him, as a great favour, to allow the chorus of the German Opera, of which he was the conductor, to come to her house and sing the choruses from Men- delssohn’s oratorio Cidipus in Colonos as a surprise for the composer when he arrived. My father and the chorus stood in the inner hall of the house, and when Mendelssohn arrived they greeted him with the strains of his own lovely music. He was naturally very pleased with the kind attention of Madame Moscheles, and thanked her most warmly. Of course this happened long before I came to England. I must not forget to mention Alfred Bunn, who was director of the English Opera at Drury Lane Theatre for nearly twenty-five years. He was the librettist of Balfe’s Bo- hemian Girl, and manager of the German Opera seasons, at which my father was the conductor in 1840-42. These seasons were held at the Prince’s Theatre (now the St. James’s) in King Street, Drury Lane Theatre, and Covent Garden, and as Ger- man Opera was still a rare event here, afforded Londoners the opportunity of hearing many masterpieces for the first time. The operas given included Mozart’s Don Juan, Zauberfléte, Marriage of Figaro, Titus and Die Entfiihrung, Beethoven’s Fidelio, Weber’s Freischiitz, Oberon and Euryanthe, and Gluck’s Iphigenia in Tauris. The singers were such fine artists as Madame 56 LONDON LIFE IN 1848 Stoeckel Heinefetter, a dramatic soprano, the great tenor Tichatschek (who created the réles of Rienzi and Tannhaéuser at Dresden) and the noted baritone Staudigl. Staudigl, who settled here, I afterwards saw frequently. He dressed very shabbily, and wore a sort of Inverness cape and a slouched hat, and did not look at all like a distinguished singer ; but that did not matter, for his voice was most expressive and beautiful, and he never forced it. I first heard him at the New Philharmonic Con- certs in 1852. My father and the company also went to Manchester and Liverpool in 1841. My father told me that Bunn once said to him: ‘‘ Mon cher Ganz, si je n’avais pas assez d’argent pour vivre en luxe, je prendrais un pistolet et je me tuerais.” I think that was ** bluff.” I well remember Cremorne, and at the begin- ning of my career I was engaged by Signor Bossisio, the conductor of the concerts held there, to play the violin in his orchestra. The gardens were always beautifully illuminated in the evenings, and dancing was kept up there after the concerts were over. I was obliged to walk home in those days to my lodgings near Golden Square, Regent Street, which took me nearly an hour, as I could not get an omnibus at night, and cabs were too expensive—anyhow, it was a good experience in orchestral playing. ight 203% THE PRINCES THEATRE. GERMAN OPERAS! HERR SCHUMANN Has the honor of anvouncing an EXTRAORDINARY COMBINATION of TALENT, consisting ot ERR WILD, Madame SCHUMANN,’ STOECKEL HEINEFETTER, HERR STAUDIGL. Mhis Evening, FRIDAY, July 13th, 1840, Will be performed (ehird'n time in this Country) GLUCK'S Die. (in Four Acts) called PPHIGENTA IN TAURIES. Diana, Madame MICHALESI, The. oe Herr STAUDIGL, Iphigenia, i Madame STOECKEL HEINEFETTER, Orestes Herr D, Pylades,Herr WOLF, " Servant of the Temple, Herr KRUG, A Scythiau, Herr BENESCH, First Priestess, Madame CHRIS * Second Priestess, Dem. FROMBACH, A Greek Pcl Dem. SEELAN Prinstesses. Seythians, Greeks, and ae By the fe olloning POWERFUL CHORUS. Dies, DAUN, THOEN E, GALLO. KIRCHER, MA THES, FRONDACH, SCHUNK, PFEJFFER, WAGNER, PRITZ. jerdames BLICh CHREST, SCHNEPF, tc. Herr GEBKARDT NEUMANR, KLPIN. BLICK, CHREST, SCHNEPE, WERDULD Scowr, HERBOLD Junor, PROITZHELM, BENESCH, BETOUIMBR, GOFTZ, OFPMANN, KRELS, HECKMANN, HEESL, UCTZEL, REYNE, KRUG, HARTIG, "ag ULENARD, SCHNEIDER, THOENE, HE ORCHESTRA Or alee FIRST-RATE MUSICIANS, Directed by Herr GANZ. Final Arrangements of the Season: On Monday, (Last Night but Three) the Opera of JESSONDA. 9On Wednesday, (Last Night but Two} IPHIGENIA. On Thursday, (Last Night but Ooe) Mozart’s TITUS. On Friday, (by particular desire ) Weber's OPERA of DER | EREISCHUT2, BENEFIT: HERR SCHUMANN, The Last Might ‘of the Season. Ma . Mr. BUNN. oe po W. 8, JOHNSUN, © Nuss Bteam ” 57 58 LONDON LIFE IN 1848 When we first came here my father and I lodged for some time in Queen Street, Soho, at the house of a Mr. Aspa, a piano-tuner employed by Broadwoods. The old Mr. Hipkins, of that firm, used kindly to allow me when a boy to prac- tise on their fine pianos in Great Pulteney Street. Aspa came back one day from the country and told us of an adventure he had had. He was on a lonely road when a footpad came up to him in a threatening way. Aspa quickly pulled out a tuning-fork and pointed it at him. The man hesitated for a moment, then turned and fled. On one occasion my father was taken suddenly ill, and I went off to find a doctor living in Montague Street, Bloomsbury. In my ignorance I thought this name had a French sound, and I asked my way to ‘“‘ Mont-ague”’ Street. No one could understand me, and I had to return home. One day, in Hyde Park, I saw the beautiful Lady Blessington driving up and down in her famous green carriage with Count D’Orsay, the great beau of the period. I well recollect the death of the old Duke of Cambridge, the grandfather of Queen Mary, and made a note in my diary: “ July 8th (1850).—To-day the youngest son of George III, the good Duke of Cambridge, died. He was in his seventieth year. Father knew him in Wiesbaden; he played quartettes with him and my uncles there. He played on Stradivarius instruments belonging to the Duke. He was a very kindly man, and very fond of THE GREAT MONTE CRISTO ROW 59 music, and was the patron of most concerts here. . . . He was universally mourned, as he was very kind to the poor.” In the troublous times of 1848 a French com- pany of actors came over from Paris to London to perform Alexandre Dumas’s great drama, Monte Cristo. The English actors in those days were so jealous of the fact that a French com- pany should play at the English National Theatre that they would not allow the French actors to be heard, and the public present—at least the greater number of them—hissed, shouted, and whistled the whole evening, so that not a line could be heard. The feeling against everything French ran very high. No doubt most people remembered that Napoleon’s ardent wish was to invade England. I recollect so well when I first came to England some boys called out after me, “There goes a French boy!” because I was dressed differently from English boys; and they had no idea of my being a German, forgetting that there were other nation- alities!' But now all this feeling has entirely disappeared, the entente cordiale being thor- oughly established. To return to my Monte Cristo story. The French actors were splendid, the scenery was perfect, and, although I could not hear them speak owing to the noise, I could gather that they were first-rate. I was playing the violin in the orchestra at the time, and it was an 60 RACHEL odd experience. The managers of the troupe gave up the idea of continuing to perform at Drury Lane, and they migrated to the St. James’s Theatre, where the play was performed in perfect peace, and thoroughly enjoyed by the audience, and I was again engaged to play in the orchestra. This incident reminds me that I had the good fortune to hear the great French actress Rachel as Andromache in Racine’s play. I have never forgotten the impression this famous tragedienne made upon me. I was at the time playing in the orchestra, a member having asked me to deputise for him. Since that time I have often seen the great Sarah Bernhardt (who comes nearest as an actress to her in my opinion), Madame Ristori (the Italian tragedienne, whom I met in Rome), and other great foreign actresses ; but I must say that Rachel surpassed them all. I do not wish to make comparisons with our own great English actresses, such as our universal favourites, Ellen Terry, Lady Ban- croft, Mrs. Kendal, Mrs. Patrick Campbell, and others who are and have been such great orna- ments of the English stage. A memorable event in the spring of 1852 was the first series of orchestral concerts given by the New Philharmonic Society, which was formed by Dr. Henry Wylde with the special object of producing novelties and giving concerts of the best kind. Great éclat attended these concerts, BERLIOZ AS CONDUCTOR 61 as Hector Berlioz, after his triumphant tours throughout Europe, was specially engaged to conduct. The orchestra consisted of 110 per- formers, the leaders being all well-known solo- ists, such as Sivori, Jansa (violinists), Goffrié (viola), the great ’cellist Piatti, Bottesini, the famous contrabassist, Rémusat the flautist, Barret the oboist, and Lazarus the clarinettist. I was fortunate in being engaged as one of the second violins, and was much gratified when, during the first rehearsal, Berlioz said, ‘“‘ Ganz, I want you to play the small cymbals with Silas in the scherzo.”” We were rehearsing his Romeo and Juliet symphony, which has a wonderfully light and fairy-like scherzo to represent ‘“‘ Queen Mab,” and he had had two pairs of small antique cymbals made to give a particular effect in it. There were several. orchestral rehearsals, which for England at that time was a really great in- novation. Every one was intensely enthusiastic, and anxious to please Berlioz, who was a wonder- ful conductor. His beat was clear and precise, and he took endless trouble to get everything right. I remember his asking Silas and me to come and see him in King Street, St. James’s, just to try over the passage for the little cymbals. I mention this to show the care he took over every detail. As a result, the first concert proved a veritable triumph for him, and it was generally admitted that no such orchestral performance had ever 62 BERLIOZ’S TRIUMPH before been heard in England. The hall was crammed, and. the audience was absolutely carried away and cheered him to the echo. There were similar scenes at all the following concerts. Perhaps the finest was the fourth concert, when the hall was packed to overflowing for Bee- thoven’s Choral Symphony. Up to then the work had never been properly given in England, as the old Philharmonic Society, although it owned the original score, would never give it more than their customary one rehearsal. In consequence it was still regarded as an unin- telligible work. We had five rehearsals, at which Berlioz was indefatigable. The performance at the concert was masterly, completely realising all the grandeur and beauty of the immortal work, and the effect on the audi- ence was electrical, Berlioz being called out again and again amidst perfect storms of applause. The singers in the symphony were Clara Novello, Sims Reeves, and Staudigl. It was at this con- cert that I first heard the beautiful and poetical playing of Mlle Wilhelmine Clauss, in Mendels- sohn’s Concerto, an artist of great charm, who, unfortunately, only paid rare visits to this country. Berlioz gave selections from his Faust at a later concert, which again roused immense interest and enthusiasm. I was also in the orchestra in 1855, when he came again and conducted his Harold in Italy. The concerts were most interesting and in- BALFE 63 structive to me, not only on account of the great privilege I had of playing under Berlioz’s baton, but also because in later years I was enabled, when I took over the New Philharmonic Con- certs, to bring his great works once more before the English public. Balfe composed a new opera every season for the Pyne and Harrison English Opera Season at Ae (alent of. felberkd Rages Gaegy } Preece the Lyceum or Covent Garden Theatres, one of which was Satanella. It contained a pretty song called ‘‘ The Power of Love,” which became very popular, when sung by Louisa Pyne, and it was taken up by all the leading sopranos of that time. Another of his operas was The Rose of Castille, in which was a muleteer’s song, which Mr. William Harrison sang, striking his whip with great effect, which was always encored, and 6 64 BALFE AS A CONDUCTOR also a comic trio called “I’m not the Queen”: this also went well. A comic singer of those days was Mr. Honey, who always caused great amusement whenever he sang in concerted pieces like this trio. Miss Susan Pyne, sister of Louisa Pyne, also took part in these operas, such as Bianca, the Bravo’s Bride, and The Puritan’s Daughter. Balfe used to sit up at night composing, and his devoted wife used to keep him awake by giving him strong coffee. I believe he got a thousand pounds for each opera from Messrs. Boosey & Co., but he generally spent his money pretty freely, and I remember he bought himself a carriage and launched out into other extravagances; and he was about the only operatic composer I ever saw riding about on horseback. Unfortunately, he did not save up for a rainy day. He was a very pleasant and cheerful-looking man. In his early days he had studied singing in Italy, and had sung there on the stage; so he spoke Italian fluently, which came in very useful when he became the con- ductor of the Italian Opera at Her Majesty’s Theatre. He was a first-rate conductor, and did not only beat strict time, as some conductors do (and their beat is like the pendulum of a clock !) but he showed sympathy with the singers by allowing them tempo rubato and also ritardandos and accellerandos if they did not over-step the rules of music or sing out of tune. Being a Lirrer 64) Lib jetts. Phivih 92 I Shy BALFE 65 singer himself, he knew exactly where to give way to singers. Composing gave him no trouble; it came fluently to him, and he had the gift of melody, which, by the way, does not count for so much in the present day. He asked me to give some lessons on the pianoforte to his daughter Vic- toria,, and we also played some sonatas for violin and piano, I taking the violin part. At one of Balfe’s soirées in 1848 in Bruton Street, I heard Herr Joachim play ; he was then quite a young man. Madame Balfe had been a singer herself, and had sung under my father’s direction at the Theatre at Mainz. After Balfe’s death in 1870 she did everything she could to keep his memory green, and had a tablet erected to him in Westminster Abbey. I have written so much about Balfe because he was not only an interesting figure in the musical world, but was also such a kind friend to my father and myself, and it was owing to him that we were able to make London our home. I am afraid his music is not much thought of by the musical world of to-day ; but some of his songs will always remain popular, such as “Come into the Garden, Maud,” and ““Good-night, Beloved,” which Sims Reeves, Edward Lloyd, and Ben Davies have all sung so beautifully. A friend of mine long associated with the 1 She became Duchesse de Frias. 66 ALFRED GILBERT musical world was the late Mr. Alfred Gilbert. He was for many years Professor of the Piano- forte at the Royal Academy of Music, and a Director of the Philharmonic Society. The famous sculptor, Alfred Gilbert, is his son. Alfred Gilbert’s wife was a Miss Charlotte Cole, and she and her sister, Miss Susan Cole, used to sing the duets which in the early fifties were hardly ever sung except by the sisters Louisa and Susan Pyne before they were asso- ciated with the Pyne and Harrison English Opera Company, and the sisters Brougham, who made Balfe’s duet, ‘‘ Beware, she is fooling thee!” so popular. I used to accompany the Misses Cole at the recitals of Alexandre Billet, a Rus- sian pianist, at the St. Martin’s Hall, in Long Acre, which was built by John Hullah for his own concerts. It was at one of Billet’s recitals that the late Miss Bessie Palmer sang John Hullah’s popular songs “The Storm” and “ Three Fishers went Sailing,” which are still such favourites with Madame Clara Butt. Another of my early memories is of Mr. German Reed, who, with his clever wife, gave for many years an entertainment in the Gallery of Illustration in Regent Street, started in 1856, which was neither theatrical nor exactly musical, but a little of both. People went to it, thinking, no doubt, they were not going to a theatre, about which many faddists had scruples sixty THE GERMAN REEDS 67 years ago. This entertamment was always most successful, and a delight to children; it took place in the afternoon. After St. George’s Hall was built in Langham Place, Mr. and Mrs. German Reed migrated there, which suited them admirably, as there was a real stage built in the Hall and they could have plenty of good scenery. At the end of each performance Mr. John Parry sang a number of his own songs, which always created great amusement. He accompanied himself most beautifully, his execution being perfectly mar- vellous. After his death he was succeeded by similar entertainers. The German Reeds gave several original light operatic entertainments, which they commis- sioned various English composers, such as Frederick Clay, Alberto Randegger, and Arthur Sullivan (who was then hardly known as a musical composer) to write for them. They had a nice little company of singers to assist them, one of whom was a young protégée of my own, Miss Fanny Holland, with a lovely mezzo- soprano voice. She sang and acted well, and was very prepossessing in appearance. The late Arthur Cecil was also one of the company, his dry and clever humour charming everybody. After each entertainment, subsequent to John Parry’s death, the late versatile Mr. Corney Grain gave one of his inimitable musical mono- logues, admirably accompanied by himself. He 68 SULLIVAN’S EARLY OPERETTAS was a clever follower of John Parry, and for many years gave his amusing sketches most successfully. When Mr. German Reed had carried on his operatic entertainments for some time, he had an idea of establishing English opera in a small way, and asked me to be one of his conductors, to which I agreed without hesitation. He en- gaged all the necessary vocalists and a small orchestra. The performances took place at St. George’s Hall in the evenings. A charming operetta, by Arthur Sullivan, called The Contra- bandista, which was conducted by Mr. German Reed, served as a lever de rideau. I believe it was not the first, but the second opéra bouffe —if I may call it so—by this genial and prolific composer, the first being Trial by Jury, in which Sullivan’s elder brother sang and acted, and which had such a stupendous success. The Contrabandista made a great hit, and was received with acclamation. Then followed Auber’s melodious opéra-comique L’Ambassa- drice, in which Madame Louisa Liebhart took the part of the Ambassadress, singing and acting it extremely well. Before she came to England she had been a prima donna at the Imperial Opera in Vienna ; she was therefore well qualified to sing a big part here, and she was able to sing it in English, having only a slight foreign accent. She was a good actress, and looked well on the stage. The other artists in L’Ambassadrice were Mrs. Ainsley Cook (née Payne), contralto, Mr. “THE CONTRABANDISTA” 69 Lyall, a very good tenor and an excellent actor, and Mr. Ainsley Cook, a bass buffo and first-rate comic singer. I was the conductor, and had only a small, though efficient orchestra, as there was no room for a larger one. The performances were artistically successful, but Mr. German Reed did not receive enough support from the public to continue them, and therefore gave up the speculation as a bad job. I was very sorry, because I enjoyed conducting operas, which really was no trouble to me, and my father praised my efforts in this direction. Even now, when I am writing this book, more than fifty years later, English opera is not yet established, though many attempts have been made by the Pyne and Harrison Opera Company and the Carl Rosa and Moody-Manners Com- panies, but these only gave short seasons in Lon- don, and Mr. Thomas Beecham’s series of operas in English in 1910 only lasted a few months. I am afraid that, as long as our Government refuse to support a native opera, nothing can be done to advance the art of English operatic music. I shall mention Arthur Sullivan’s comic operas elsewhere. In the meantime, light operas, such as The Merry Widow, The Dollar Princess, The Chocolate Soldier, and others of that calibre hold their own and make their managers’ fortunes. I have already mentioned Jenny Lind’s ap- pearance at Her Majesty’s Theatre in 1848, when I heard her in her incomparable performances. 70 HOW JENNY LIND PRACTISED The late Mr. John Mitchell arranged a Concert Tour for her, of several weeks, in 1856, through the principal cities in England, Scotland, and Wales, and engaged me as accompanist. The other artists beside Jenny Lind and her husband, Mr. Otto Goldschmidt, who was an accomplished pianist and first-rate musician, were Herr Heinrich Ernst, the Hungarian violin virtuoso, Signor Piatti, the finest ’cellist of the day, and Mr. Willoughby Weiss, of whom I have spoken previously, and who was a favourite baritone. Mr. Goldschmidt accompanied his wife in all her songs, and I accompanied the other artists. It was a glorious tour, never to be forgotten, and created a sensation wherever the concerts were announced. When travelling, Jenny Lind and her husband occupied a first-class railway com- partment, next to that of the rest of us, and I heard her constantly practising her runs and shakes while going along. To my mind she was not the born singer that Adelina Patti is—she had always to practise steadily to keep her voice in order, and was always studying her songs, while Patti, even at the height of her career, was not obliged to practise constantly. Ernst and Piatti passed their time during the long journeys in playing chess, both being accomplished chess-players. At the various sta- tions big crowds assembled to catch a glimpse of the great prima donna, and some of the people pi, Lee oe ge Lon ites | GHEE sof bee pi 2 2 ee Lp = a __ ’ Se JENNY LIND’S TOUR IN 1856 71 used to be bold enough to touch her dress as she was getting into her carriage to drive to the hotel, which always annoyed Jenny Lind ex- tremely. In Yorkshire, where we halted inside some of the stations, the people gazed into her carriage, and she was obliged to pull down the blinds. At the various hotels large crowds waited to see her arrive and also to see her start for the concert, so that sometimes she had great difficulty in entering her carriage. In fact, I never witnessed such excitement at any of the tours of the world-renowned artists as at that of Jenny Lind—people were simply mad to see her, even at the greatest disadvantage. I do not mean to say that other artists have not created as much enthusiasm inside the concert- halls, but the people were not so demonstrative outside, at the stations and hotels. The concerts on this tour were always crowded ; the prices of the tickets were one guinea and half a guinea. In those days there were only a few big concert-halls; the Free Trade Hall at Manchester did not then exist, and Jenny Lind was obliged to sing in the small town-hall there. Perhaps the greatest enthusiasm was shown in the Potteries. The concert took place in the Market Hall, Hanley, before an enormous audi- ence of about 5,000 people. I heard that 2,000 factory hands had paid 2s. 6d. each to hear Jenny Lind. Their applause was tremendous, and at the end they gave three cheers, upon 72 JENNY LIND’S TOUR which she waved her handkerchief and kissed her hand. © At Leamington the public seemed very re- cherché and only applauded very little. Her singing was really superb, and created the greatest enthusiasm. I remember, at the first concert, standing with other artists at the side of the platform hidden from view, and we all applauded to the echo, which made her very angry! She positively forbade us to do it again, so we had to remain quiet for the rest of the tour, much against our inclination. She sang that night a grand aria from Bellini’s opera, Beatrice di Tenda, and “Mighty Pens” from Haydn’s Creation, then a duet with Mr. Weiss, and finished her concert with her famous Swedish songs—the echo in some of them being a wonderful accomplishment, the sounds dying away into a mere whisper. It used to be said that she did this echo by ventriloquism; but that was utterly absurd. In addition to being ‘a marvellous executant she sang with intense feeling. Her cadenzas in Bellini’s aria were im- mensely difficult, but she warbled them off with the greatest ease. The cadenzas in “Ah non credea,” “Ah! non giunge,” and ‘‘ Come per me sereno ’’—all from Bellini’s La Sonnambula, which she sang at her various concerts and also in the opera, were unique and quite in character with the music. They were published in later years by Otto Goldschmidt. JENNY LIND’S TOUR 78 As Amina in the opera, she sustained a long note in a cadenza in “‘ Ah non credea”’ most wonderfully when she dropped the flowers Elvino had given her, the note dying off pianissimo. Of course, in a concert-hall she sang equally wonderfully, but could not drop the flowers, Yorbns G \F fen ive ae rs ZH dim I 4 - which had added greatly to the effect, because she had none; but the audience was still always enraptured. Ernst and Piatti played their solos splendidly —I am always glad to have had the privilege of playing their accompaniments. Often in after- life, when I have accompanied various violinists 74 JENNY LIND in Ernst’s pieces, I have told them how he played them and given them hints. Ernst was a tall, thin man, and people used to say he was like Paganini; he had piercing black eyes, and long black hair, which fell down in elf-locks. He was a very nervous man, very highly strung, and his playing in slow movements was most pathetic. Every one remembers our old friend Piatti, who for so many years kept his position as one of the greatest living ‘cellists. His tone was comparatively small, but he played with intense feeling, and his execution was perfect. Mr. Weiss sang “I’m a Roamer,” by Men- delssohn, and his own popular song, “‘ The Village Blacksmith,” which was generally encored. Medorat | fa’ Villag bhaich Jenny Lind gave up concert-singing much too soon, as she was still in the zenith of her powers. She was of middle height, with handsome fea- tures and a bright expression. She wore her pretty blond hair in bandeauz. JENNY LIND 75 Her upper notes sounded like silver bells. The range of her voice was from C to D in alt. When I compare her with Patti I must repeat that all her success was through study and hard work, whilst Patti had genius and her voice was of more exquisite timbre than that of Jenny Lind. I mention these facts because I have often been asked which of the two artistes I prefer. I might as well reply that I prefer Raphael to Leonardo da Vinci, or vice versa. There is really no comparison. My readers must forgive me for raving so much about Jenny Lind. I am one of the very few musicians—perhaps the only one—living now who heard her in her prime, so my recollec- tions of how she sang and what, in my humble opinion, I thought of her, may be of interest. An audience is, perhaps, not inclined to remem- ber that their favourite singers, being mortal, sometimes have need of refreshment in the intervals of performing great vocal feats. A story is told of Jenny Lind that, at her first appearance in Vienna, there were loud calls for a repetition of the famous air in La Sonnambula. Exhausted by her previous efforts, the singer felt she could not respond until she had re- freshed herself. So she came forward and said to the audience, ‘‘ Now just a few moments for a glass of lemonade.” The respite was willingly given, and she then repeated the air with sur- prising éclat, to the delight of the house. 76 JENNY LIND I have seen an amusing incident of a similar kind at Covent Garden. In the Hall of Song in the second act of Tannhduser, where the singers are assembled for the vocal competition and each seeks to outstrip the other, a famous prima donna was seated on her throne next to the Duke. She had sung her address to the Hall of Song, and was now no doubt thinking of her coming intervention on behalf of Tannhauser and the vocal efforts to be demanded of her. So she seized the occasion, when the attention of every one was engrossed by Wolfram’s medita- tion, to bend down and pick up and drink a glass of red wine which had thoughtfully been placed at the side of her throne. The permission of the audience was in this case dispensed with. CHAPTER IV MY CONCERTS My first London concert at the old Queen’s Concert Rooms in 1855—Ernst—Reichardt—“‘ Thou art so near and yet so far’”’—Leopold and Moritz Ganz—My second concert— Clara Novello—Viardot-Garcia—Moritz Ganz, the master of Offenbach—I attend the marriage of H.R.H. the Princess Royal and H.R.H. Prince Frederick William of Prussia— My succeeding concerts and matinées—A brilliant galaxy of helpers—Sir Julius Benedict—Madame Lemmens- Sherrington—Signor Bazzini—Mr. Sims Reeves fails me— George Perren to the rescue—Why Reeves used to disap- point—Louisa Vinning—Charles Santley—Miss Kemble— Lindsay Sloper—Madame Parepa—Madame Liebhart—Miss Emily Soldene—Master Frederick Cowen—Miss Louisa Pyne —Signor Randegger—A young contralto, Madame Patey— Madame Monbelli—Madame Norman Neruda—Miss Edith Wynne—Patey and Sainton Dolby sing at the same concert —Vernon Rigby—Joseph Wieniawski—Adelina Patti— Trebelli-Bettini—K ontski—Graziani—Scalchi—Signor Foli— Madame Carvalho, the original Marguerite—Mlle Marimon— Titiens—Marie Roze—Concert début of Albani—Edward Lloyd—Antoinette Sterling—William Shakespeare. In 1855 I thought the time had now arrived when I should give a public concert, as I had a good connection and many friends and pupils, having also made the acquaintance of many distinguished people at Lady Waldegrave’s. I gave my first London concert at the old Queen’s Concert Rooms in Hanover Square, on June 14th, and have given annual concerts ever 77 78 MY CONCERTS since. The audience included Lady Waldegrave and many of the musical circle I had met at Nuneham. The concert was most successful, and at its close I received many congratulations. I played Webev’s “Concert-stiick ” with quartette accom- paniment and felt very nervous ; but it went off very well. Among the artists who assisted me were Herr Heinrich Ernst, the great violin vir- tuoso, and Herr Alexander Reichardt, the popular tenor from Vienna, whose pretty song, “‘ Thou art so near and yet so far,’’ became a great favourite with singers. Monsieur Paque, the ’cellist, also played. My second concert was in June 1856, given in conjunction with my uncles, Leopold and Moritz Ganz, the Conzertmeister to the King of Prussia, who had come over from Berlin, and my eldest brother, Eduard Ganz, who was a pupil of Moscheles and Thalberg. At this second concert we had many artists of European reputation to assist, such as Madame Clara Novello, who had a beautiful, bell-like, soprano voice. For years people used to rave about her singing of ‘‘ God save the Queen” at the opening of the great Exhibition in 1851. The last time I heard her was at her farewell concert in 1860, at which she sang in Benedict’s cantata Undine. 1 do not remember any other English singer with such a beautiful voice, and she was a very handsome woman as well. MORITZ GANZ, LEOPOLD GANZ, 78) MADAME VIARDOT GARCIA 79 Another of our artists was Madame Viardot Garcia, sister of the late Manuel Garcia and Madame Malibran. I shall never forget her vivid and dramatic rendering of Schubert’s “ Erl- k6nig ” which she sang with such fire and depth of feeling that the audience applauded enthu- siastically and insisted upon her repeating it. Pag A se + LD asne be me Pigaele Ta Toa %e-anat ! 4-hy! 010 hain, ch She afterwards captivated every one by two characteristic Spanish songs. Herr Carl Formes also assisted us ; he was the great basso who came out with the German Opera Company at Drury Lane in 1849, and at once made a great reputa- tion as Mephistopheles in Spohr’s Faust, and also as Sarastro in Die Zauberflote. My uncles played several soli, and some duets for violin and ’cello, forwhich they werefamous in Germany and Russia. My uncle, Moritz Ganz, was considered the finest ’cellist in Germany, and his tone was won- derfully good and his execution marvellous. He told me he taught Jacques Offenbach, the famous opéra-bouffe composer, and Julius Rietz, who became opera-conductor at Dresden. I recollect Hermann Levy, the great Wagnerian 7 80 MY CONCERTS conductor at Munich, telling me, when he con- ducted a concert at the Queen’s Hall on April 25th, 1895, that at one time he was a pupil of my uncle’s. The concert was under the patronage of H.R.H. Prince Frederick William of Prussia, who married the Princess Royal in 1858, and afterwards be- came German Emperor. I well remember their marriage, at which I was present, through the kindness of the Countess Bernstorff, who gave me a ticket for a seat on a stand which was erected in one of the courtyards in St. James’s Palace, where about seven hundred people were seated. I saw the various court processions and the bridal cortége pass, and heard the music which was being performed at the Chapel Royal. It was an unforgettable occasion, Sir Julius Benedict, then Mr. Benedict, was one of the conductors at this concert, and also in the following years. Madame Lemmens Sherrington sang at my concert in 1857. She was a charming singer, and her vocalisation was perfect. Signor Bazzini, the distinguished violinist and composer, also took part in it; his composition “‘ Ronde des Lutins”’ became famous in later years, and Madame Norman Neruda played it repeatedly at concerts; but I noticed she played it much faster than Bazzini did when I used to accom- pany him. Later on Bazzini became the director of the Conservatoire at Milan. SIMS REEVES 81 On February 19th, 1859, I gave the first even- ing concert in the new St. James’s Hall. I had engaged Mr. Sims Reeves to sing at it and com- posed a song specially for him to sing, entitled, ‘““When thou wilt be my Bride,’’ dedicated to my fiancée. He rehearsed it with me and liked it very much ; but, to my great disappointment, his daughter came to me a few days before the concert to say that her father could not sing for me, as he had caught cold. This was indeed a blow, as a great many people had bought tickets on purpose to hear him. I had, however, taken the precaution to send my song to a young tenor, Mr. George Perren, who was then fulfilling a concert engagement at Birmingham, and he at once returned to London and took Reeves’s place, and sang it with fine effect. It is only fair to say, in justice to Sims Reeves, that his constant failures to appear were not due to any caprice of his own. He had a delicate throat, and did not like to risk his reputation by singing when he was not in good voice. At this concert Miss Louisa Vinning, who, when she sang as a child, used to be called ‘‘ the Infant Sappho,” sang a song of mine called “‘ Sing, Birdie, Sing,” which was encored, and Miss Stabbach sang another song composed by me called ‘“‘ The Murmuring Sea.” In 1850 I had had a few lessons in harmony and com- position from Carl Eckert, the composer of the 82 MY CONCERTS celebrated Echo Song, and I continued my studies with Carl Anschiitz, the conductor of the Wednesday Concerts at Exeter Hall. Mr. Santley gave me his valuable co-operation and sang with his future wife, Miss Gertrude Kemble (already mentioned in a former chapter as singing at Miss Burdett-Coutt’s soirée), the duet “* Crudel perché”’ from Le Nozze di Figaro. M. Remenyi, the remarkable Hungarian violinist, also appeared, as well as Signor Piatti, the incomparable ’cellist. At my concert in 1860, which I gave at the Hanover Square Rooms, Madame Catherine Hayes, the great Irish soprano, appeared. One of her songs was composed by a clever amateur, Miss Virginia Gabriel, and was called ‘““ The Forsaken.”” Madame Sainton-Dolby also sang; she was a ballad singer par excellence, and was famous in oratorio, and Mendelssohn greatly admired her singing. Her husbana, M. Sainton, the well-known violinist, also played at this con- cert ; he was for many years leader of the orchestra at Covent Garden, under Michael Costa. In 1861 I gave two matinées and a soirée at my house in Queen Anne Street. Among the artists who appeared were the sweet-voiced tenor Signor Gardoni, Signor Delle Sedie, and M. Jules Lefort (both baritones), Mr. Weiss (bass), and the clever pianist Lindsay Sloper, who accompanied the artists and also played a duet with me. About that time he and Mr. Benedict were the most popular accompanists of the day. MADAME PAREPA-ROSA 83 At my concert in 1862, Madame Euphrosyne Parepa sang, among others, my song, “Sing, Birdie, Sing.”” She had an exceptionally high soprano voice and great facility in florid music, and made my songs very popular; but I shall speak of that later on. In 1863 Louise Leibhart, prima donna from the Imperial Opera in Vienna, sang some German songs delightfully. She settled in London and became a great favourite. Miss Emily Soldene also sang at this concert; she was a pupil of Mr. Howard Glover, the musical critic of the Morning Post, who recommended her to me, and asked me to let her sing. She sang after- wards in Offenbach’s light operas, such as the Grande Duchesse and Genevieve de Brabant, with great success, and made a good reputation. She died last year (1912) at an advanced age. A Swedish singer, Mlle Mathilde Enequist, also sang, and pleased the audience greatly with her Swedish folk-songs, into one of which she worked a lovely shake. In 1865 I gave a concert at Dudley House, Park Lane, kindly lent me by the Earl of Dudley, who was a great patron and lover of music, especially operas, and became my pupil for singing. He had a pleasant tenor voice and great taste in music generally. At this concert I played a duet for two pianos, an aria from Gounod’s Faust arranged by G. A. Osborne, with Master (now Sir Frederick) Cowen. He was a 84 MY CONCERTS protégé of Lord Dudley’s, who sent him to Berlin and Leipzig to finish his musical education. At my concert in 1866 Madame Parepa sang a new song of mine, called ‘‘ The Nightingale’s Trill,’ with enormous success. She was the wife of Carl Rosa, and a great oratorio and opera singer. She was a woman of great personal charm and truly sympathetic nature. The suc- cess which this song immediately attained was entirely due to her; she had sung it for the first time at the Crystal Palace on March 14th, 1865, and that autumn had made it one of her chief songs during her American tour. The following triple acrostic appeared in the New York Express : TRIPLE ACROSTIC FROM “THE NEW YORK EXPRESS,” 1868 E nchantress thou of song! sweet U ndarken’d be thy sky, good P ours from thy charmed throat a H ow poor the term !—a flood, and R egina thou of hearts, and O lympus greets its priestess, and § ister of the Muses! theirs thy Y et may’st Rose chérie, with- in this N oon—splendid as thy voice, oh, E arth’s chiefest bliss be thine ! P hilomel, the gods thee kee P! A ngels guard and be ever nea R! R ill of song—a rill, say I, E cho hears, prolongs the char M. P aragon of art, true Prima Donn A, A pollo wreaths doth blen D; R ealm where from us dost g 0; O rb—to with us—long re- mai N; § yren, fate shine o’er thy mortal spa N, A Imoner of Music’s joys, on fair Parep A! Pre use ) be 8 y+ \ AN Enger [Vb je , u le 84] MADAME PATEY 85 The next winter Madame Parepa wrote and asked me to join her on tour in the United States. To my great regret, I was unable to leave home. The following year Madame Louisa Pyne, the famous prima donna, who was a co-director of the Pyne and Harrison English Opera Company, sang for me. Signor Alberto Randegger was one of the accompanists. He became a noted teacher of singing, and was for many years con- ductor of the Carl Rosa Opera Company, and afterwards at Covent Garden, where he princi- pally conducted the classical operas. Unfortu- nately, Randegger died, after great suffering, in January 1912. In 1868 a young contralto, Janet Patey, appeared at my concert. She had a beautiful mellow voice, and after Madame Sainton Dolby’s death became the leading contralto at all the great London concerts and provincial festivals. From her first appearance onward she sang at all my concerts, and we became great friends. She could sing florid music, and shake extremely well, and her voice had a big compass. In great Italian arias and simple English ballads she was equally good. At my concert in 1869 Madame Monbelli from Paris appeared among the artists and sang with great charm the Cavatina ‘“‘ Come per me sereno ”’ from La Sonnambula. At this concert Madame Norman Neruda, the fine violinist, who after- 86 MY CONCERTS wards became Lady Hallé, played in Mendels- sohn’s D minor trio, in conjunction with M. Paque (’cello), and myself. Miss Edith Wynne, a first-rate Irish ballad-singer, pleased very much, and the two celebrated contraltos, Madame Sainton-Dolby and Madame Patey, also sang. At the present time it would hardly be likely for two such great singers of the same kind of voice to perform at the same concert, and I may con- sider myself very fortunate in never having had any difficulty in obtaining the kind ser- vices of the very best artists. I do recollect, though, that on one occasion an English contralto, who was announced to sing at one of my concerts at St. James’s Hall, found fault because her name was printed on the bills in smaller letters than the names of the Italian opera-singers, who also sang for me on that occasion, and I had some difficulty in pacifying her and persuading her to sing. To return to my concert in 1869, Mr. Vernon Rigby, a tenor who imitated the style of Sims Reeves very well, also sang, and M. Joseph Wieniawski, brother of Henri Wieniawski, played the duet ‘“‘ Hommage a Handel,” by Moscheles, with me. In those days it had great popularity, but now no one plays it, and it is quite forgotten, like many similar compositions. In June 1870 I gave a big concert at St. James’s Hall, at which the greatest singer of the age, Madame Adelina Patti, sang the great A GALAXY OF STARS 87 aria “Bel Raggio” from Semiramide with em- bellishments and cadenzas specially written for her by its composer, Rossini, and also my song “The Nightingale’s Trill.” Needless to say, she created a great sensation, and was loudly encored in both. Later on I shall write a special chapter on this great artiste, who became from that time my staunch friend, and has continued so for forty-three years. This concert was re- markable for the galaxy of operatic stars who appeared, amongst whom was the fine contralto, Madame Scalchi, who sang Italian bravura arias as I had never heard them sung since Alboni. Madame Trebelli-Bettini, the famous con- tralto singer, Mlle Carola (a German with an Italian name), Madame Orgeni, a soprano from the Royal Opera, Dresden, Signor Bettini, hus- band of Madame Trebelli, and Signor Graziani, whom I consider the finest baritone I ever heard, also assisted me, likewise Signor Foli, the Irish bass, whose name was really Foley, but who Italianised it in deference to the custom in those days among English singers. He was, at any rate, a good Italian scholar, and had studied in Italy. He was also an in- veterate gambler, and would bet on the number of flies on the ceiling! He caught a severe cold going to Liverpool to see a musical friend off to America, from which he never recovered, al- though in outward appearance he was a very strong man. His favourite songs were, among 88 MY CONCERTS others, ‘‘ I’m a Roamer,” Gounod’s “‘ She alone charmeth my Sadness,” and especially Irish ballads, which he sang with a good Irish brogue, such as “‘ Father O’Flynn ” and “‘ Off to Phila- delphia.”” He was a true friend to all beginners, and used to give them good advice. Many years afterwards I went on a tour, with Madame Trebelli and other well-known artists, through England, Scotland, and Ireland. Madame Trebelli was always in the highest spirits, and full of wit and humour, and we had many amusing supper-parties after the concerts. One day an enormous parcel arrived for Signor Foli, and he started unpacking sheet after sheet of brown paper. At last, amid roars of laughter, he came upon a small piece of brown fat, a delicacy to which he was specially partial ! Madame Trebelli had a curious fancy for col- lecting a plate from every hotel at which she stayed. These plates were used to decorate her drawing-room in Abbey Road, St. John’s Wood. ANTOINE DE KONTSKI 89 I always made a point of seeing the sights in the cities we visited, and the artists used chaffingly to say, ‘‘ Now Ganz is off to see a cathedral.” But to return to my concert. Among the in- strumentalists was the famous Polish pianist, Chevalier Antoine de Kontski, who played with me a duet of his own arrangement on airs from Les Huguenots. One of his compositions, which became famous all over the world, was a piano- forte piece called ‘‘ Le Réveil du Lion.” I be- lieve he was a pupil of the pianist Hummel, who was the conductor of the orchestra at Weimar. Once, when I gave a musical party at my house, he played a réverie of mine, called Vision du Passé, which he had only heard me play once, and he surprised me very agreeably by giving a new and improved version of it from memory. He was not only extremely clever, but full of fun, and very witty. His habit of wearing several foreign orders across his shirt-front and his being somewhat of a spendthrift earned him the sobriquet of “Der Ritter der Vier Kreutzer.” He was al- ways anxious that his appearances on the plat- form should be signalised by every mark of popular favour, and at his recitals, even in the depth of winter, a large wash-basket would arrive full of wreaths and bouquets of flowers to be handed up to him after he had played. He would spend as much as £15 or £20 a con- cert on these “ floral tributes.” 90 MY CONCERTS Signor Bevignani, conductor at Covent Gar- den, was one of my accompanists at this concert. As I am afraid it may weary my readers if I give too many details of my annual concerts, I will only add a few more of the names of cele- brities who assisted me at the succeeding ones. Among them at my concert in 1871 was the prima donna Madame Miolan Carvalho, the original Marguerite in Gounod’s Faust when it was produced in Paris, who had a beautiful voice and brilliant execution; also Mlle Grossi from Berlin, and the incomparable Madame Viardot Garcia, who had already appeared at my concert in 1856 and was over in England again, owing to the war between France and Germany. While speaking of Madame Viardot Garcia, I may add that in 1867 I was staying at Baden- Baden, then a resort of the most famous artists. At one of the concerts I attended at the Kursaal, Grisi, Mario, and Madame Viardot Garcia all sang. Madame Viardot invited my wife and me to visit her, and I well remember a certain matinée d’invitation which she gave at her house, where she had a beautiful music-room, with an organ. We heard delightful music, rendered by Mlle Artédt, Delle Sedie, and de Beriot. Madame Viardot accompanied almost every- thing herself, and also played the organ in Gounod’s ‘‘ Ave Maria.’”’ The Queen of Prussia was present, and praised all the artists. I noticed, among the guests, the famous Russian MARIE ROZE 91 novelist Turgenieff—a fine, tall man with a white beard. Mlle Mathilde Sessi, a brilliant soprano who was then singing at Covent Garden, also sang at my concert in 1871, one of her special réles being Ophelia in Ambrose Thomas’s Hamlet. She had long and very beautiful natural fair hair, which was exactly suited to the part. She married Baron Ludwig von Erlanger, of Frank- fort, uncle of Baron Frederick d’Erlanger the composer, and soon after retired from the operatic stage. I had also exceptionally fine baritones, Herr Julius Stockhausen, the great singer from Frankfort who gave fine interpretations of Schu- bert’s ‘‘ Nachtstiick,’”? and ‘‘ Du meine Seele,”’ by Schumann and. Signor Cotogni from Covent Garden, the artist who excelled as Figaro in Il Barbiere. Signor Tito Mattei, the popular pianist, was one of the accompanists. A remarkable concert took place in 1872. Among the artists who lent me their aid was the great Teresa Titiens, and also Miss Clara Louise Kellogg, an American soprano, and Mlle Marie Roze. Mlle Roze was a very pretty woman, and Auber wrote the principal part in his latest opera, Le premier jour de bonheur for her, which was produced at the Opéra-Comique in Paris, She became very popular, and a great favourite at Her Majesty’s Theatre. Signor Fancelli, the tenor, and Signor Agnesi, the baritone, also sang at this concert, but one of its sensations was the 92 MY CONCERTS singing of the new tenor, Signor Italo Campanini, brother of Signor Cleofante Campanini, lately the principal conductor at Covent Garden, who created as great a furore on his first appearance at Drury Lane in 1872 as Cennaro in Lucrezia Borgia as Giuglini did at Her Majesty’s Theatre in 1857. Mlle Marie Marimon sang for me in 1878. My concert in 1874 was remarkable for the first appearance on any concert platform of the young Canadian soprano Mile Emma Al- bani. She sang the great scene and aria “ Il dolce suono”? from Lucia, and ‘‘O luce di quest’anima’’ from Linda di Chamounia, and received a great ovation. Another of the items on the programme was Gounod’s ‘‘ Ave Maria” on Bach’s Prelude, sung by Mlle d’Angeri with violin obbligato by Signor Papini, piano by Sir Julius Benedict and harmonium by Signor Randegger—a fine combination which pleased the audience greatly. Mr. Frederick Gye, director of Covent Garden, was present, as he was much interested in Mile Albani’s platform début and wanted to see how she got on at a London concert. His son Ernest afterwards became her husband. She held for many years a distinguished position at the Opera, and no festival was complete without her assistance, nor the Royal Albert Hall Choral Society’s con- certs, at which she was generally joined by the leading English singers, such as Madame Patey, EDWARD LLOYD 98 Mr. Edward Lloyd, and Mr. Santley—a splendid quartette ! Madame Kssipoff, the Russian pianist whom I had introduced at the New Philharmonic Con- certs in 1874, played Schumann’s duet with me on two pianos, and another item on the pro- gramme was a quartette for four performers on two pianos by Benedict played by the com- poser, Mlle Marie Krebs, Frederick Cowen, and myself, In 1875 I gave a matinée and a soirée at my house in Harley Street, at which Edward Lloyd sang. This great artist is well remembered by the present generation. For years he was the leading tenor at all the provincial festivals. He took leave of the British public at his farewell concert at the Royal Albert Hall on Decem- ber 12th, 1900, at which I was one of the con- ductors in conjunction with Dr. Hans Richter and Sir Edward Elgar. Lloyd was recalled again and again at the end of the concert, and I rushed to the piano and struck up “ Auld Lang Syne,” which was sung, with clasped hands, by Albani and the rest of the artists, who were Clara Butt, Evangeline Florence, Sarah Berry, Ben Davies, Santley, Kennerley Rumford, Lane Wilson, Plunket Greene, Johannes Wolff, and Gertrude Peppercorn. I consider that Lloyd retired too early, being still in his full powers, but he told me afterwards he wanted to retire while in his prime without 94 MY CONCERTS waiting until he had lost his voice. He lives now at Worthing, where he cultivates the best. music and gives concerts for the benefit of the inhabitants of Worthing as a labour of love. I think he has also built a concert-room there. Not long ago he paid me a visit at Brighton, when I was staying there, and he was looking very well and jovial. At one of my matinées in 1875 Herr Wilhelm), the famous violinist, and M. Jules de Swert, first violoncellist at the Berlin Opera-house, also appeared, and Herr Auer, from St. Petersburg, played at my concert the next year. He came over to England, after an absence of thirty years, and played at a concert in 1907 given by his clever pupil, Mischa Elman, playing with him a duet by Spohr. I remember Leopold Auer’s first visit to England when he was quite a young man, and I used to accompany him at Ella’s Musical Union Matinées and other concerts, in the fifties. Madame Antoinette Sterling sang for me at my concert in 1877. This famous contralto made Sir Arthur Sullivan’s song, ‘‘ The Lost Chord,” which he wrote for her, so popular that it is interesting to note that when he first brought it to her she did not like it! Fortunately, how- ever, she changed her mind and the royalties she received from it must have been enormous. I should say there has never been another song that has sold so well. She also made Cowen’s BRAHMS’ LIEBESLIEDER 95 “Better Land”? immensely popular, and when- ever she sang the old Scotch ditty ‘Caller Herrin’? she used to bring the house down, for no one ever sang it as she did, and her Scotch pronunciation was simply perfect. At this con- cert a young French violinist, Mlle Marguerite Pommereul, who was recommended to me by Anton Rubinstein, also played. She was very pretty, and a good artiste. The same year, at a concert I gave at Lord Dudley’s picture-gallery, I introduced Brahms’ beautiful Liebeslieder Walzer, the vocal quartette including my old friend William Shakespeare. CHAPTER V MY CONCERTS CONTINUED The Earl of Dudley—My concerts in his picture gallery—Sarasate —The Earl’s £20,000 Sévres dinner-service—His great generosity—A sudden blow—My subsequent concerts— Joseph Hollman—Mary Davies—Minnie Hauk—Alwina Valleria—Maybrick—“‘ Nancy Lee ” goes begging—TI accom- pany it for the first time of hearing—Maude Valerie White —“‘The Devout Lover”—Joseph Maas—Marian Macken- zie—Tremelli—Isidore de Lara—Dudley House again— Nordica—Bottesini—His double-bass—Anecdote of Paganini —Nikita—Zélie de Lussan—Ben Davies—His engagement in Dorothy—' The Daisy Chain ”’——Emma Holmstrand— Elizabeth Parkinson makes her début at my concert. In 1878 my matinée took place at Dudley House, by kind permission of the Earl of Dudley. Madame Trebelli sang, and Sefior Pablo Sarasate played, also joining me in Schumann’s splendid Pianoforte Quintette. There is no occasion for me to sing his praises, for all the world knows what a great artist he was, and his much-re- gretted death in 1908, at the age of sixty-four years, left a gap which has never been filled. Lord Dudley’s picture-gallery, where my con- cert took place, was hung with the most famous old Italian and Dutch masterpieces. He had just then bought several additional paintings, 96 MUSIC AT DUDLEY HOUSE 97 and he said to me, ‘*‘ Ganz, when the concert is over, ask your audience to look at the new pic- tures.” These were hung next works by Raphael, Murillo, and other great masters, so the audience had a great artistic treat. Lord Dudley was genuinely fond of good music, vocal and instrumental, and often gave private concerts in his picture-gallery. He loved to get them up in impromptu fashion, and would say to me, ‘‘Ganz, I want to give a musical soirée to-morrow, and you must rush about and get the artists together.” As there were no telephones in those days, my difficulties can be imagined ; but I invariably succeeded because most artists, even the opera- singers and first-rate instrumentalists, liked to appear at the house of such a patron of the Arts as Lord Dudley. At these soirées there was frequently a member of the Royal Family pre- sent, and everybody listened most attentively to the music. His programmes were always headed ‘Il pid grand’ omaggio alla musica e il silenzio !” On one occasion Lord Dudley had a perform- ance of Gluck’s Iphigenia, conducted by Charles Hallé; there was a small orchestra, and I was at the piano. Titiens sang the leading role and Hallé had engaged a chorus ; so it was well given, and produced a great impression. Lord Dudley was not only a lover of music, but also of painting and sculpture, and he was 98 MY CONCERTS CONTINUED particularly fond of china. He bought a blue Sévres dessert-service at Prince Demidoff’s sale in Paris, for which he paid the enormous price of twenty thousand pounds, and he was so pleased with his new acquisition that he invited the Prince and Princess of Wales to a luncheon party at which it was used for the first time. Lord Dudley himself designed the famous ball- room with alcoves and had small tables placed in them at supper-parties. He told me that he was the first to institute small tables for supper in place of the long buffet which was formerly the fashion. IT used to teach him singing, and gave him lessons three times a week on the tenor songs from the operas. He used to imitate Giuglini, who was the tenor then in vogue, trying to reach high C in falsetto. He studied some operatic duets with me from Carmen and other operas, which he afterwards sang with a good operatic soprano. He was very particular and thorough over his music, and dissected every phrase, and asked me about certain forms of the music, and translated the Italian and French texts into English to make the meaning of the words per- fectly clear to himself. He really sang with great taste and expression. After a soirée he used to say to me, “‘ Ganz, bring your bill to-morrow,” which I invariably did ; but when he looked at the artists’ fees he would say they were too small, and write out a LORD DUDLEY 99 cheque for double the amount. In fact, he was very generous. I often used to ask him for a gift for some deserving charity, and he never once refused. I remember the late Mr. Hancock, the jeweller of Bond Street, used to go to Dud- ley House with packets of jewellery, which he displayed in the billiard-gallery after dinner. Lord Dudley used to select rings, brooches, necklaces, and so on, and present each lady staying in the house with a bit of jewellery, much to their delight. After one of our music-lessons he asked me whether I was going to hear Sarah Bernhardt, who was just then drawing all London. I told him I could not get any tickets, and he said: ‘*Go to Mitchell’s Library in Bond Street this evening and ask forsome. I will tell him to have them ready for you.” Presently, without any warning, he swooned away, and did not wake up for at least fifteen minutes. When he had recovered he seemed quite himself, and when his secretary, Mr. Villiers, came into the room and said some one was waiting to see him, he did not appear to be aware that anything had happened. Then he got up and said good-bye to me, and I left the house. At seven o’clock I went to Mitchell’s ana asked whether Lord Dudley had been there; they said no, but that they had just heard that he was suddenly taken ill and had had a para- lytic stroke. I was thunderstruck, and felt 100 MY CONCERTS CONTINUED much distressed on hearing this dreadful news. His illness lasted for some years, and Lady Dudley nursed him with great devotion. When he died I lost in him a great patron and kind friend, and he could ill be spared in the musical world, as he often helped young artists. His was the only house in those days where the best music and the best artists could be heard. He had lent me his gallery in 1879 for my annual concert, but, of course, owing to his illness, it could not take place there, so Lady Dudley, with great consideration, asked the Duke of Westminster to lend me Grosvenor House, and he consented. My concert took place in the famous Rubens Room, which in a general way the Duke only lent for charity concerts. M. Marsick, a well-known violinist from Paris, and M. Joseph Hollman, the ’cellist, who was then unknown, took part in it. At my concert in 1880, which I gave at my own house, Miss Mary Davies sang. She was a great favourite, and excelled in’ ballad-singing. M. Emile Sauret, the violinist, also assisted me. In 1881 I gave a concert at the Marlborough Rooms, Regent Street, which was honoured by the presence of the Duke and Duchess of Teck, and Princess Mary of Teck, our present Queen. One of the artists who sang was the charming Miss Minnie Hauk, who created the part of Catherine in Goetz’s opera, The Taming of the MINNIE HAUK 101 Shrew, and was famous as one of the best Car- mens in Bizet’s opera. She was an American by birth, and spoke several languages fluently, and also excelled in German Lieder. She married Baron W. Hesse de Wartegg, a dis- tinguished traveller and authority on inter- national law, and lives now at Lucerne, in the Villa Triebchen, where Richard Wagner once lived and where he composed part of Die Meistersinger. Among the other artists were Signor del Puente, the well-known baritone from Her Majesty’s Theatre, and M. Libotton the ’cellist. Apropos of Carmen and such emotional parts as Don José, there have been singers on the operatic stage who have been so carried away by the excitement of the rdle they were playing as to become really dangerous. A tenor in par- ticular in the last act of Carmen, when Don José, driven mad by jealousy, ends the scene by stabbing Carmen, used to give such a dig as to wound the lady playing the part. The husband thereupon informed the excitable tenor that he would stand in the wings at the next per- formance with a pistol, adding, ‘‘ You hurt my wife—I shoot!” At my concert in 18838, Madame Alwina Valleria was the principal soprano. She was a pupil of Signor Lamperti and Signor Arditi, and became a member of the opera at Her Majesty’s Theatre. She sang in most of the operas then 102 MY CONCERTS CONTINUED in vogue, singing and acting brilliantly. Mr. Michael Maybrick (Stephen Adams), composer of “Nancy Lee” and other popular songs, also sang. I was the first to accompany him. in “Nancy Lee,” the song being then in manu- script, at a concert at Stratford in Essex, at which I had engaged him to sing. It seems strange that Maybrick, as he told me himself, offered it to one publisher after another, who all declined it, until at last he published it at his own expense, which was a very good move, for it sold in thousands, and he must have made a great deal by it. Edward Lloyd used to sing two of his best- known songs, ‘‘ The Holy City’ and “‘ The Star of Bethlehem,” with great success, and Lloyd told me that his share of the royalties amounted to about £1,500 for the half-year alone. Maybrick now lives permanently at Ryde, of which he has several times been the mayor.’ Madame Trebelli also sang at my concert, and so did my old friend, Charles Santley, as he had done on many former occasions. One of his songs was “‘ The Devout Lover,” accompanied by the composer, Miss Maude Valerie White, whose songs I greatly admire; they are always so well written and artistic, and have such fine accom- paniments, which she herself plays to perfection. Among the artists who assisted me in 1884 was Mr. Joseph Maas, who had one of the finest 1 Mr. Maybrick died since these lines were in print. ISIDORE DE LARA 103 tenor voices of any English singer I have ever heard. He was a member of the Carl Rosa Opera Company for many years, and was also engaged during the Royal Italian Opera season at Covent Garden. Unfortunately, he died in the very zenith of his career, from a severe cold, caught while out fishing near Birming- ham, which developed into pneumonia. In the scarcity of good tenors, he could ill be spared. At my concert in 1885 Chevalier Wilhelm Kuhe and M. Edouard de Paris assisted me with the accompaniments. Both were distinguished pianists, residing at Brighton at that time. Miss Marion Mackenzie and Mlle Tremelli, from the Royal Italian Opera, also lent me their aid, and so did Mr. Leslie Crotty, a fine baritone from the Carl Rosa Opera Company. At my concert in 1886, given at my residence in Harley Street, Isidore de Lara, who was then the rage, sang one of his own popular compositions. He was the first singer to make a special feature of sitting down to the piano and accompanying himself at concerts. He used to gaze round the room when singing, and wear a very intense expression, which charmed his fair hearers. At the concert the year after Signor Paolo Tosti accompanied Mr. de Lara in two of his new songs, which was the only time I re- member that he stood up tosing. Although such a favourite in London, he settled in Paris, where he has composed several operas, some of which 104 MY CONCERTS CONTINUED were successfully produced at Covent Garden and some at Monte Carlo. The inimitable George Grossmith gave one of his amusing sketches at this concert. This good friend sang for me for fifteen consecutive years. In July 1888 the Countess of Dudley was kind enough to lend me the picture-gallery in Dudley House. My concert that year was notable for the appearance at it of Madame Nordica, the great American prima donna, who carried everything before her on the operatic stage, especially in Wagnerian operas. Some years ago, when I was in Munich, I heard her there in the Festspiel Theater as Elsa in Lohen- grin, and greatly admired her beautiful singing and dramatic acting. Another celebrity at this concert was Signor Bottesini, the wonderful double-bass player, who played some of his own compositions, and joined me in a concerted num- ber. Nobody ever played that unwieldy instru- ment better than he; it had only three strings instead of four, like an orchestral double-bass. He was a prolific composer, and I once heard an opera of his given at the Lyceum Theatre, when an Italian opera company came over here for a short season. I remember hearing him play a duo concertante with Signor Sivori, who was a pupil of Paganini. I often accompanied Sivori, and have referred to him in another part of this book. Apropos of Paganini, my father told me, when he conducted Paganini’s concert BEN DAVIES 105 at Mainz, which was given at the theatre there, he invited my father to dinner before the con- cert. At dinner he drank too much champagne, and after almost every piece he played he had to retire behind the scenes and be violently ill —how he could have played under the circum- stances, feeling so uncomfortable, is a marvel to me, as it was also to my father, who always spoke of him with the highest praise and admira- tion. But I am getting away from my own concerts. In 1889 Nikita, a young American soprano, appeared, and sang my song “Sing, sweet Bird ”? most brilliantly. M. Johannes Wolff, the violinist, played the ‘“‘ Andante Religioso”’ by Thomé, and the “‘ Polonaise”? by Laub. I knew Herr Laub when he was in London in 1848. Balfe had engaged him to play the violin solo parts in the ballets at Her Majesty’s Theatre in those days. In 1890 there appeared at my concert another young American soprano, Miss Zélie de Lussan. She sang at Her Majesty’s the title-réle of Carmen to perfection. At the same concert Mr. Ben Davies sang for me and made a great hit in Sullivan’s ‘‘Come, Margherita, come” from The Martyr of Antioch. Ben Davies sang for some years in the Carl Rosa Opera Company, and after poor Maas’s death and Edward Lloyd’s retirement he remained the most sought-after tenor in the profession. From the beginning 106 MY CONCERTS CONTINUED of his career we have always been the very best of friends. After he left the Carl Rosa Opera Company he was offered an engagement in Dorothy, which he hardly liked to accept, having been principal tenor in grand opera. However, when he men- tioned the facts to me I advised him to accept the offer, which I said would do him no harm as an artist, and he eventually did so and made a great hit. After the first year he received an increased salary, and remained for several years at the Prince of Wales’s. Ben Davies has always been very punctual at his numerous concert engagements, and never disappointed the public, and I can say the same thing of Sir Charles Santley, Madame Patey, and Mr. Edward Lloyd. ““T seek for thee in every Flower,” a tenor song of mine, has been frequently sung by Edward Lloyd and Ben Davies, as well as by singers not perhaps so well known to fame. It was one of these who, being asked what he was going to sing at a village concert,. wrote that he had chosen ‘“‘I seek for thee’ (in A flat). In the programme it accordingly appeared as ‘* Song—‘ I seek for thee in a flat ’—W. Ganz,”’! At one of my concerts my daughter Georgina made her first appearance with success. She sang ‘“‘ La Partenza,” by Rossini, ‘“‘ Adieux de Vhétesse Arabe,” by Bizet, ‘“‘ Du bist wie eine Blume,” by Rubinstein, and my own song, “I JOHN FORSELL 107 seek for thee in every Flower.”’ Next day the Daily Telegraph gave her a very good notice. I have written these particulars of my various concerts in order to mention the names of the artists who so kindly assisted me with their valuable services, and also, I hope, to interest my readers. The concerts of the next few years included such names as Madame Nordica, Miss Margaret Macintyre, Miss Marie Engle, and the Sisters Ravogli, Madame Clara Butt, Eugéne Oudin, M. Plancgon, and Mr. (now Sir) Henry J. Wood accompanied at my concert in 1894. The Jubilee Concert I gave in 1898 was such an extra- ordinary one that I may be forgiven for writing of it in detail elsewhere. My concert in 1900 took place at the hand- some Empress Rooms at the Royal Palace Hotel, Kensington. A newcomer was Herr John Forsell, a Swedish baritone, from the Royal Opera, Stockholm, who made a successful appearance. He is a good-looking man, with a fine voice, and was engaged at Covent Garden, where he sang with great success in Don Gio- vanni. At my concert in 1901, amongst other items on the programme was a charming song-cycle called “The Daisy Chain,” by the versatile Madame Liza Lehmann. It was sung by Miss Evange- line Florence, Miss Edna Thornton, Mr. Gregory Hast, and Mr. Richard Green, and pleased the audience immensely. Madame Blanche Marchesi 108 MY CONCERTS CONTINUED and Miss Ada Crossley also sang; Sefior Rubio the ’cellist played. On June 28th, 1904, I gave my concert at the New Aolian Hall in Bond Street, and a young Swedish singer named Mlle Emma Holmstrand made a most successful appearance. In 1895 my concert took place at the house of Mrs. Frederick Beer, in Chesterfield Gardens, and I had a wonderful array of singers, including Madame Clara Butt. : This house contained many art-treasures, in- cluding Millais’s fine early painting in the Preraphaelite style, “‘ The Carpenter’s Shop.” I knew Millais well, and often visited his studio, as I did that of Lord Leighton. The last time I saw Millais was at a Levee; he was almost unable then to speak, but he pointed to a medal at his breast and said, ‘‘ This is the medal worn ‘by Sir Joshua Reynolds when he was President of the Royal Academy.” In 1908 a young American singer, Miss Eliza- beth Parkinson, made her first appearance at my concert, and had a most successful début. She had been introduced to me by Madame Mathilde Marchesi, the eminent teacher, in Paris, whose pupil she was. I heard her first at my house, and was so pleased with her voice and style that I at once asked her to sing for me. On many occasions young artistes have been recommended to me by their lady friends, who were not the slightest good when I heard them, DEBUT OF MISS PARKINSON 109 and if I had introduced them for engagements people would have said, ‘‘Ganz has sent me another of his protégées who has no claim what- ever to be heard,” so I always took the precaution of first hearing them sing or play myself. In the case of Miss Parkinson I was delighted with her voice at once. She sang “‘ Depuis le Jour ”’ from Charpentier’s Louise, which had not then been heard in London, and sang it most beauti- fully. Her voice is a very flexible, high soprano. She was afterwards engaged at Covent Garden, and changed her name to Parkina. My friend Sir George Alexander kindly gave some recitations at this concert, and in 1905 I was assisted by the great French actress Madame Réjane. I remember that M. Plancon was so carried away by his song, ‘“‘ The Two Grenadiers,” that he forgot he was not on the stage, and at the end made a dramatic gesture with his arm to emphasise the devotion of the old veteran to his Emperor. CHAPTER VI CHAMBER CONCERTS John Ella, his great work for music—His musical union con- certs at Willis’s Rooms and St. James’s Hall—Joachim— Madame Clara Schumann—Sir Charles Hallé—He first hears Madame Norman Neruda play—My quartette concerts—First appearance of Madame Camilla Urso and Madame Conneau —Sir Augustus Manns—Carl Rosa and his opera company —I become a director. I REMEMBER that in the first years of my resi- dence in London there was only one series of concerts of chamber music, given by the late Mr. John Ella, who was the originator and director of the Musical Union, founded in 1845, at which the most celebrated instrumentalists appeared, such as Madame Clara Schumann, Ernst, Vieuxtemps, Joachim, Henri Wieniawski, Hallé, Rubinstein, Piatti, and many others, who thus had an opportunity of being heard in London to the best advantage by an artistic audience. John Ella was the first concert-giver to intro- duce analytical programmes, in which he gave biographical and other notes about the various players. These programmes were an excellent guide to the listeners, as the various movements 110 LOTT odg ‘aq = ‘daujuredpury ‘uuBUMeg, Jauaeg 6 “sdumayXNOTA [LE UOMINTE “ayo ‘aaorseyg yp yulzzeq { YQUIN) UOT TRoTsNTY 94 JO aTMWOANOY “ASATVNV T THE MUSICAL UNION 111 of the concerted numbers were also explained and extracts from the music given, as they are to-day in the Queen’s Hall programmes. At his own annual matinée Ella always had Bee- thoven’s Septette for strings and wind instru- ments performed and Hummel’s Septette for piano, strings, and wind instruments, for the latter of which he generally engaged some cele- brated pianist. He also included some vocal music, and engaged me to accompany the singer. It is a pity that Hummel’s Septette is so rarely performed now, for it is full of melody and quite a show-piece for pianists. The Musical Union concerts were first held at the Old Willis’s Rooms in King Street, St. James’s, and when St. James’s Hall was built in 1858 they were removed there and carried on until they ended. The piano stood in the middle of the room and the rest of the players sat by in a sort of square; the honorary com- mittee, mostly members of the aristocracy, sat in the front rows, in front of them being a kind of throne on which Ella sat, smiling to right and left of him at the distinguished people and applauding the performers. Truth to tell, they generally rather laughed at him, but he really did an immense amount of good by making classical music popular. I accompanied the artists at several of these concerts, and I well remember the first time I had the honour of playing for the great violinist 9 112 CHAMBER CONCERTS Joseph Joachim. On the morning of the concert: I went to him at 8.30 and rehearsed Beethoven’s Romance in G with him, before breakfast. I find he wrote in my album at that time: Ves. i Cone th hp --+-+ ‘ The prices at Ella’s subscription concerts were rather high, and they were not supported by the general public. When Arthur Chappell came on the scene and started the Saturday and Monday Popular Concerts he was anxious to get many of the artists who had been for so many years associated with Ella—and these all left ‘JOHN ELLA 113 Ella and accepted engagements with Chappell— Ella complained bitterly to me of their “‘ ingrati- tude,” as he called it. They were Madame Schumann, Madame Arabella Goddard, Joachim, and Charles Hallé—who, as Ella told me, had played sixty-six times for him. So, as these artists were not allowed by their contracts to play for him any more, Ella retired from active operations in a year or two and never resumed them again. His idea of having analytical pro- grammes, however, has ever since been utilised for most of the Chamber Concerts given in this country. Ella’s inscription in my album is: 4h 237 serg Lem. «! Ui prsr Dees “~ Mr. J. W. Davison wrote the Books of Words for Chappell’s Concerts, more musical extracts being given, and after his death they were written by Joseph Bennett. The Chappell con- certs encouraged the taste for instrumental chamber music, and were carried on for many years with the greatest success. Many famous artists appeared at them; Madame Norman Neruda, who became Lady Hallé, was one of 114 CHAMBER CONCERTS their mainstays. I used to call her “‘ the Madame Schumann of the violin.” I was often at the Popular Concerts when Madame Schumann played, and when she re- tired from the platform the audience used to throw so many bouquets at her that she stood among a mass of beautiful flowers to bow her acknowledgments. Sir Julius Benedict acted as conductor for many years. It was always a delight to me to hear Madame Clara Schumann play ; her reading of Beethoven was emphatically ‘‘ masculine,”’ and at the same time full of expression and refinement. She was the devoted exponent of her hus- band’s music, and I shall never forget the im- pression she made on mein his splendid quintette in E flat with Joachim, Piatti, Riess, and Howell, nor the “ Carnival’? and ‘“‘ Kriesleriana,”’ and, MADAME CLARA SCHUMANN 115 above all, her wonderful performance of his Pianoforte Concerto in A minor. She had beautiful blue eyes and very expres- sive features, and sweetness showed in every line of her face. In her latter days she was slightly deaf, but could hear music very well, and had no difficulty in joining in concerted numbers. She lisped slightly in her speech. In England and Germany she was constantly associated with Joachim, and their playing of the ‘“‘Kreutzer Sonata” was a tour de force. I first knew Joachim when I was a boy of sixteen ; I met him at a soirée given by Balfe at his house in Bruton Street. I remember that, on one occasion, when he played the “‘ Kreutzer Sonata ”’ with Anton Rubinstein, at one of Ella’s Musical Union Matinées, he was very angry with Rubin- stein for taking the last movement at such a terrific rate, and said he would never play it with him again. I was present at the time, and I think Joachim was quite right. Rubinstein was of such an exuberant disposition that he really could not help himself, and was carried away by his enthusiasm. Joachim was always kind to young students, and gave them encouragement and advice. He was a pupil of Spohr, and played his master’s concertos and salon pieces, which have now gone out of date. I recollect that, when rehearsing Maurer’s Concerto for four violins, which I was accom- 116 CHAMBER CONCERTS panying, he stopped the rehearsal and said he would not play it, as it was too trivial ! He was the first to play Mendelssohn’s Violin Concerto at one of the Philharmonic Society’s concerts. Sir Charles Hallé, like Benedict, was a very active and industrious man, who, besides play- ing the works of the classical masters, such as the whole of Beethoven’s Sonatas by heart, con- ducted the celebrated Free Trade Hall Orchestral Concerts at Manchester. He did a great deal to cultivate musical taste in that town, giving his audiences the best singers and instrumentalists, and also did fine work through his various tours with his orchestra in the provinces. No foreign artist of note came to England without re- ceiving an engagement from Hallé to appear at his concerts, and as a pianist he excelled in Beethoven, Mozart, and Schubert, and made the compositions of Stephen Heller known in England. In 1869 he sat next to me at one of the Phil- harmonic Concerts among the audience in St. James’s Hall, when Madame Norman-Neruda played a violin concerto in place of M. Henri Vieuxtemps, who was prevented by illness from playing, and he recommended her to the direc- tors as his deputy. She was so successful that poor Vieuxtemps had no chance of appearing again at those concerts that season. Hallé had not heard her before, and was charmed with her MADAME NORMAN-NERUDA 117 playing. As every one knows, she afterwards became his wife. Madame Neruda had already appeared in London as a child, in 1849. She made a great name, not only in London but all over the country ; she was a great favourite at Chappell’s Saturday and Monday Popular Concerts, and sometimes played duets by Spohr with Joachim. She died in Berlin, where she had settled, in 1911, and by her death the world lost a great artist. Hallé asked me some years ago to teach his son Clifford the piano, which I did. In 1872 I felt the want of quartette. concerts on Saturday evenings, although we had the famous Saturday and Monday Popular Concerts, so I thought it might be a good opportunity to give six Chamber Concerts, under my own direc- tion. The first took place on February 24th, 1872, at St. George’s Hall. My quartette con- sisted of Messrs. Joseph Ludwig, Jung, Hann, and Paque. I was the pianist and played in conjunction with these artists—except Jung, who was not required—Weber’s rarely heard Quartette in B flat, Op. 5, which was much appreciated by my audience, as well as other vocal and instrumental music. At my second concert an Italian violinist, Madame Camilla Urso, who had been recommended to me as a clever player, made her first appearance in England and made a very favourable impression, 118 CHAMBER CONCERTS on the strength of which I engaged her again for the third concert, at which a charming French vocalist, Madame Conneau, made her début. She sang a cycle of beautiful songs in manuscript, composed expressly for and dedi- cated to her by Rossini, entitled, ‘ Regatta Veneziana,”” and also a song called ‘‘ Le Prin- temps,’ composed expressly for her by Gounod —of course by now everybody knows this charm- ing song, which is a favourite still. The Empress Eugénie was a great friend of this singer, her husband being Dr. Conneau, Physician to the Emperor Napoleon III. She sang with great taste, and was an extremely handsome woman. On this occasion M. Edouard de Paris, an esteemed professor of the piano at Brighton, was the pianist, and played in Schumann’s Quartette in E flat, which pleased enormously. For the fifth concert I engaged Herr Professor Hugo Heermann, from Frankfort, as violinist, and he led the quartettes with great distinction. The last concert of the season took place on March 30th, Mlle Carola, a very gifted soprano, being one of the singers. Signor Randegger conducted, as he had done before on several occasions. I played, with young Frederick H. Cowen, Schumann’s “ Andante con Variazioni,” a pianoforte duet for two pianos. These concerts were thoroughly successful from an artistic point of view, and I had intro- duced as much new talent as possible ; but, owing SIR AUGUSTUS MANNS 119 to the want of financial support, I could not carry them on. This only proves that musical people must not speculate in concert-giving, but leave it to music-sellers, or other speculators, who have a large capital to work on and so can carry on their concerts for many years. When I first saw Sir Augustus Manns (then Mr. A. Manns) he was a member of the Crystal Palace orchestra, conducted by Herr Schallehn, wearing a uniform, and the band played under a stand in the open air. Manns helped the con- ductor by arranging his compositions for the orchestra which Herr Schallehn put on the pro- grammes as his own. Later on Manns became the conductor himself, and after a little while he and the members of his orchestra were allowed by the directors to discard their uniforms for ordinary civilian dress. It was then that Manns instituted the celebrated Saturday afternoon concerts, which he conducted with so much zeal and ability for so many years. He first brought out the orchestral works of Arthur Sullivan, Frederick Cowen, Alexander Mackenzie, Hubert Parry, Sir George Macfarren, Frederick Corder, Edward German, Villiers Stanford, Max Bruch, and many others. All the best pianists and violinists of the world appeared at these concerts, and the symphonies of Beethoven, Mozart, Schubert, Schumann, Mendelssohn, Raff, and Brahms were often heard there. A great guide to the public were the analytical 120 CHAMBER CONCERTS programmes, written in masterly style by the late Sir George Grove, of The Musical Dictionary. He it was who discovered Schubert’s “‘ Unfinished Symphony ” in Vienna. Manns worked for the music at the Crystal Palace with untiring energy and absorbing in- terest for fifty years. When Sir Michael Costa died he was appointed conductor of the Han- del Festivals, which he directed with his accus- tomed ability. Probably nowhere else in the world were finer performances given of Handel’s oratorios, Mendelssohn’s Elijah, and Haydn’s Creation than those at the Crystal Palace, but I have spoken of them already in my remarks about Sir Michael Costa. It was in the seventies that my great friend, Carl Rosa, by a rare combination of musical gifts with energy and enthusiasm, established the reputation of the opera company to which he gave his name. Besides the work of manage- ment, he also conducted the operas himself with real sympathy and ability. After a season at the old Princess’s Theatre in Oxford Street in 1875, he opened in the following year at the Lyceum, when the chief feature was the English production of The Flying Dutchman with Charles Santley in the title-réle and Mlle Torriani as Senta. Carl Rosa was the first to give real encourage- ment to English composers, and in the same year produced a new opera by young Frederick Cowen CARL ROSA 121 called Pauline. In 1883, at Drury Lane Theatre, he produced Esmeralda, a charming work by Goring Thomas, which he had commissioned him to write, and thus gave this musical genius his first opportunity of being heard. This opera has been revived since, and has always captivated those who heard it. The same year saw the production of Colomba, an opera by Alexander Mackenzie, with that gifted artist Madame Alwina Valleria in the chief part. In 1885 she created the part of Nadeshda in the opera by Goring Thomas, which again exhibited his brilliant talents. Villiers Stanford’s Canterbury Pilgrims, Mackenzie’s Troubadour, and Corder’s Nordisa were other new works produced by him, while he gave the first performances in English of Wagner’s Rienzi, Tannhauser, and Lohengrin, and Verdi’s Aida. Carl Rosa used often to discuss his plans and consult with me on the introduction of novelties. Among the artists introduced to the English operatic stage by Carl Rosa were Minnie Hauk, who was a remarkable Katherine in Goetz’s Taming of the Shrew, Marie Roze, who became a great favourite, and Julia Gaylord, a sympathetic Mignon, Clara Perry with a charm- ing voice (she later became Mrs. Ben Davies), and Mlle Zélie de Lussan. Mlle Zélie de Lussan, who became a great star in the company, made a brilliant success as Carmen, and as Maria in The Daughter of the 122 CHAMBER CONCERTS Regiment. She is one of the most versatile operatic artists on the English stage, and an excellent linguist. I know that she has sung Carmen in three different languages, and Mar- guerite in Faust in Italian and English, with equal effect. The castes were also very strong on the men’s side, including such names as Joseph Maas, the lamented tenor, whose.career was, alas, so short, my valued and esteemed friend Ben Davies, Barton McGuckin, Leslie Crotty, and ‘William Ludwig. To show the interest Joseph Maas took in his stage work, I remember that he shaved off his moustache to sing the part of des Grieux in Manon when it was first given here. Shortly afterwards, at an At Home given by Sir Charles Hallé, the host said to my wife, ‘‘ Who is that gentleman over there standing in the door- way ?”’ and when she told him it was Joseph Maas he was astonished, and said, ‘‘ Oh, I didn’t know him!” It was a real tragedy that poor Carl Rosa was cut off in the prime of life, but English people will never forget the debt they owe him. In 1891, two years after his lamented death, I joined the Board of Directors and worked very hard for the company, endeavouring to bring out new operas and get the best artists possible. We gave Hamish MacCunn’s Jeanie Deans in Edinburgh, and at a special season at Daly’s I JOIN THE CARL ROSA COMPANY 123 Theatre, London, in 1894, Humperdinck’s master- piece Hansel and Gretel, was produced in English and won immediate recognition by its exquisite charm and musicianship. Mozart’s youthful opera Bastien and Bastienne was given each evening with Hansel and Gretel. I was instrumental in having Puccini’s La Bohéme first performed in England (in English) at Manchester, where the company remained several weeks ; also some of Wagner’s later operas, such as Siegfried, The Meistersinger, and Tristan and Isolde, and Verdi’s Otello, in which Madame 124 CHAMBER CONCERTS Ella Russell created the part of Desdemona. All these difficult operas were splendidly per- formed, and they were highly appreciated by the provincial public. I was always on the look- out for new artists, and engaged Madame Saville, who was a fine soprano, and Mr. Hedmont, who took some of the principal tenor parts, especially in the Wagner operas. Of course there were plenty of parts left for the popular tenor Barton McGuckin. Miss Alice Esty also won her first successes with the company. The chief con- ductor of late years was Herr Eckhold, who performed his duties admirably. In 1891 we organised a special tour for Marie Roze’s farewell and engaged Henry J. Wood to conduct the orchestra. The company used to give a season of several weeks at the Court Theatre, Liverpool, which was at that period its own property, and visited Glasgow, Edinburgh, Dublin, and other big cities. Mrs. Carl Rosa, who was also a director, worked indefatigably for the company. CHAPTER VII MY ORCHESTRAL CONCERTS I take over the New Philharmonic Concerts—The first concert, April 18th, 1874—Mlle Marie Krebs—John Francis Bar- nett’s ““A Winter’s Tale”—First appearance of Madame Essipofi—Her beauty—“ Dear Mama Ganz, I am simply famished ”—Titiens—Her compliment to me—Trebelli— Jean de Reszke appears as a baritone—Von Biilow— Rubinstein plays his own Concerto—Braga—Rosavella née Roosevelt—Janotha—Sarasate—Wagner’s ‘‘ Waldweben ”— First appearance of Saint-Saéns—Wieniawski—Berlioz’s Harold—The Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh come to hear ‘“‘ Egmont ’—New overture by Alice Mary Smith— Ganz’s Orchestral Concerts—Sauret—Marie Roze—Mon- tigny-Rémaury—First appearance of Herbert Reeves—Sims Reeves’s offer to me—His wonderful singing at my concert —First appearance of Sophie Menter—First performance of Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique—Berlioz’s Romeo and Juliet—Gluck’s Orpheus—Menter’s eccentricity—Her cat, “ Klecks ’—First performance of Liszt’s Dante—First ap- pearance of Agnes Huntington—First appearance of Vladimir de Pachmann—End of the concerta—My difficulties. I now come to a stage in my career which I may be forgiven for regarding as the proudest period of my association with music in England. At the beginning of December 1873 there was a meeting of the Council of the New Phil- harmonic Society, of which I was a member, at Dr. Wylde’s residence, when he informed the meeting that he wished to give up the New 125 126 MY ORCHESTRAL CONCERTS Philharmonic Orchestral Concerts, as he had carried them on long enough and wished to retire from the direction. I thought over this matter and next day called on Dr. Wylde and asked him what he wanted for the title, and whether he would let me have the concerts, and also about particulars of subscription. I knew I had it in me to con- duct them, but Dr. Wylde was undecided about giving them to me; so I called repeatedly on Dr. Frederick Davison, the hon. treasurer, and he had several interviews with Dr. Wylde and myself. At last, on December 19th, we came to an agreement which was signed by Dr. Wylde and myself and by Frederick Davison as a witness, for us to carry on the concerts conjointly under the following conditions. Dr. Wylde was to conduct the symphonies and I the overtures, the vocal music and the instrumental concertos. The agreement was for six years, commencing from the season 1874. On December 20th there was a meeting of the society at St. George’s Hall, and Dr. Wylde announced that the con- certs would be carried on by us both, and on December 22nd the first advertisement appeared in the Times of the New Philharmonic Concerts, with the names of the conductors, Dr. Wylde and Herr Ganz. On Saturday, April 18th, 1874, the first con- cert took place at St. James’s Hall. I conducted MARIE KREBS 127 the overture to Weber’s Euryanihe, the C minor pianoforte concerto of Beethoven played by Mlle Marie Krebs (she was the daughter of Kapellmeister Krebs, of the Dresden Opera, and a very fine player), and the “ Friedensfeier ”’ overture by Reinecke, the conductor of the famous Gewandhaus Concerts at Leipzig, besides conducting the charming vocal pieces by Mlle Marimon and Mlle Scalchi, both from Covent Garden. Dr. Wylde conducted one of Bee- thoven’s symphonies. Everything went without a hitch and I received kind congratulations from everybody, and was more than glad of the opportunity of conducting such a fine band of musicians. At the second concert I began with the “Hgmont ” overture. Sir Julius Benedict’s new symphony in G minor was performed with suc- cess, and Mlle Krebs gave a fine rendering of Schubert’s Fantasia orchestrated by Liszt. At the third concert M. Duvernoy from Paris was the pianist, and at the next Mlle d’Angeri, a fine soprano from Vienna and at that time at Covent Garden, was the singer. Her real name was Angermayer, but she had Italianised it so as to sing in Italian Opera. At the fifth concert I conducted the fine overture called ‘‘ A ‘Winter’s Tale’? by John Francis Barnett, which pleased the audience very much. I was at Barnett’s début when he came out, almost as a boy, at the New Philharmonic 10 128 MY ORCHESTRAL CONCERTS Concerts—then conducted by Dr. ‘Wylde—and played Mendelssohn’s Pianoforte Concerto in G minor. He was then a student at the Royal Academy of Music, and one of Dr. Wylde’s own pupils. He has composed a great many works, one of which is a cantata called The Ancient Mariner, which was, I believe, written for one of the Birmingham Festivals, and has been per- formed all over the country. The particular star at this concert was the celebrated pianist, Madame Annette Essipoff, who then made her first appearance in England and achieved a stupendous success in Chopin’s E minor Concerto. She was recommended to me by Dr. Hans von Bilow, from St. Petersburg, as a ‘“‘ she star,”” and on that recommendation I engaged her at once. She was a pupil of Pro- fessor Leschetizsky of St. Petersburg, and became his wife. Her playing was delightful; rarely have I heard better, and she played with intense feeling. The audience were delighted, and I engaged her at once for the next concert. She was a most attractive-looking woman, with a beautiful complexion and very sweet smile—in fact, I hardly ever saw a more fascinating-look- ing pianist. She had only one fault—if it is a fault—and that was that she was always hungry. She often came to us, at 12 o’clock at night, after having been previously to a dinner-party, saying to my wife, ‘Dear Mama Ganz, I’m simply famished—have you got something to ANNETTE ESSIPOFF 129 eat?” The servants had long gone to bed, so my wife had to run down to the kitchen and fetch up some provisions to appease the appetite of Madame Essipoff. It was a great joke be- tween us all. Leschetizsky -has now settled at Vienna. He was the teacher of Paderewski and of many other great pianists, and pupils go to him from all parts of the world. He once told me that he taught Paderewski gratis, and the young pianist, in gratitude, gave him a gold watch. I met him frequently in London. He was a contemporary of Liszt and all the musical celebrities of the century, and is full of anecdotes. He was a great favourite here, having often played at John Ella’s and other concerts. At the sixth concert Madame Regan-Schimon was the vocalist and sang ‘‘ Lieder’? by Schu- bert in beautiful style. Madame Essipoff made her second appearance and played Rubinstein’s Concerto in D minor, achieving another triumph. Since Rubinstein played this concerto at one of these concerts no one has ever had such a suc- cess in it as she had. She also played Liszt’s ‘‘Hungarian Fantasia,” then little known here, with great fire and brilliance. After Madame Kssipoff had left England she wrote me a letter in German, in which she said : “Last night, at half-past twelve at night, I knocked and rang for a long, long time at your 130 MY ORCHESTRAL CONCERTS door, but it would not open to me any more. I am very sorry not to have seen you again before going away. ... A thousand heartfelt thanks for your friendship for me; I know how to ap- preciate it.” Madame Marie Roze and Signor Foli were the singers. Madame Roze came from the Opéra- Comique in Paris, where she was a great favourite, and Auber wrote one of his last operas, Le Premier Jour de Bonheur, for her. Being a very handsome woman, whenever she appeared in public she captivated her hearers. At the seventh concert I conducted Signor Schira’s overture to his opera, The Lord of Burleigh. Apart from being a successful com- poser, he was one of the most sought-after sing- ing professors. Frederick Cowen’s “‘ Festal Over- ture”? was also performed under my direction, and Alfred Jaell, a distinguished pianist of im- mense girth but with an exquisite touch, played Schumann’s Concerto in A minor. Mlle Titiens sang the aria ‘‘ Non mi dir’”’ from Don Giovanni with overpowering effect, and on leaving the platform she said to me in German, “‘ Mit Ihnen braucht man nicht zu probieren ”’ (With you it is unnecessary to rehearse) as we had not had a rehearsal. I thought this a great compliment, and felt very proud of it. At the eighth concert Madame Trebelli-Bettini sang, and so did Signor de Reschi, who my readers will know better as M. Jean de Reszke. JEAN DE RESZKE . 131 He was then a baritone, and sang the aria “‘ Sei vendicata’’ from Dinorah, and the duet “In questo suolo” from La Favorita with Madame Trebelli-Bettini. She was the wife of Signor Bettini, a good tenor who sang at the opera with Mapleson at Her Majesty’s Theatre. De Reszke’s change from a baritone to a great and popular tenor I have alluded to elsewhere. At the second concert of the following season (1875), Dr. Hans von Biillow played the C minor Concerto of Bach, for two pianos, with Mrs. Beesley, a gifted pupil of his, and also Schumann’s Andante con Variazioni duet for two pianos, which pleased the audience very much. I speak of him in a later chapter. Herr Wilhelmj, the great violinist, played at the concert on May 22nd. He was the leader at the first Wagner Festival at Bayreuth, and the Belgian violinist, M. Jules de Swert, played on June 5th. On June 19th Charles Santley sang and Alfred Jaell gave a superb performance of Brahms’ glorious Concerto in D minor, which he had helped to make famous abroad. A noteworthy event of the season of 1876 was the first appearance at these concerts, on May 27th, of the great pianist Anton Rubinstein, who played his own Concerto in D minor with enormous success. Mlle Thekla Friedlander and Mlle Redeker sang some pretty duets by Rubinstein. Mlle Redeker had a beautiful con- tralto voice, and later on she settled in London 132 MY ORCHESTRAL CONCERTS and got on very well, being much in request in fashionable circles. She married Dr. Felix Semon, the eminent throat specialist. The ’cellist and composer, Signor Gaetano Braga, appeared at another concert. He is principally known to fame through his notorious “ Sere- nata.”’ In the next season (1877) I performed the overture to Wagner’s Meistersinger and his Huldigungs Marsch, which he dedicated to King Louis of Bavaria. These works were not then much known in London and they attracted a large audience. Herr Arnim von Beehme, from Dresden, sang “‘ Siegmund’s Liebeslied ’’ from Die Walkiire, and a young English singer, Miss Elene Webster, ‘‘ Elizabeth’s Prayer’? from Tannhduser. I also gave the Flying Dutchman overture. I relate in a subsequent chapter how I met Richard Wagner at Schott’s music-shop at this time and showed him the concert-bills. That fine artist, Herr George Henschel, sang at one of the concerts, and at another I was pleased to introduce the violinist, M. Paul Viar- dot, son of Madame Viardot Garcia. M. Joseph Wieniawski, brother of the great Henri, played Litolff’s Pianoforte Concerto in E flat with, great brilliancy of effect. This concerto was the favourite show-piece of most continental pianists, but it never found favour with the English press ; in fact, when Von Billow came out at one of the New Philharmonic Con- PABLO SARASATE 183 certs, though he played it magnificently, it did not find favour, and has never been played in later years. Mlle Rosavella made her first appearance in England and sang an aria by Mozart and some German songs extremely well. She was considered a beauty, and her real name was Roosevelt. She was related to the American President. Lord Dudley, who thought it would GE oltre get Ps. Dont Praha tig a ia -- os" yo 5 ‘ A Monn porg JO San ote be to her benefit to sing at these concerts, intro- duced her to me. She gave up singing in later years and took to literary work. The violinist, Herr Auer, also appeared. In 1878 Sefior Pablo Sarasate played Men- delssohn’s Violin Concerto, and the ‘‘ Rondo Capriccioso”’ by Saint-Saéns. The last move- ment of the Mendelssohn Concerto he played at 184 MY ORCHESTRAL CONCERTS lightning speed, but every note came out most clearly. Sarasate was a most modest man, and gave himself no airs. His playing was always a great treat to listen to, and at this concert it was received with the greatest enthusiasm. On May 18th a young Polish pianist, Mlle Janotha, a pupil of Madame Schumann, played Mendelssohn’s Concerto in G minor with rare intelligence and power. It was her first appear- ance in England. She showed the influence of the style of her distinguished instructress. At the same concert M. Marsick played the beautiful Violin Concerto in G minor by Max Bruch, who was over here at the time and attended my concerts. Sarasate was again the violinist at the next concert, when he played Beethoven’s Concerto. He was rather reluctant to play it, and, when I asked him the reason, said that, as Joachim was in London and had played it lately, he did not wish to compete with him ; but I over-persuaded him, and he played it superbly. The only change in tempo from the beaten track was that he took the last movement quicker, in which his ex- ceedingly light bowing was a revelation of fairy- like delicacy. He also played his own effective Faust Fantasia. Our great English contralto, Madame Patey, was the singer on that occasion, and I conducted a new overture by the Hun- garian composer, Baron Bédog D’Orczy, from his opera The Renegade. It is a fine composition, FIRST APPEARANCE OF SAINT-SAENS 185 written quite in the modern style. His little daughter Emma was often with him; she has since attained great popularity as the authoress of The Scarlet Pimpernel. I also included Wagner’s then little-known work, the exquisite “‘ Waldweben” from Sieg- fried, in the programme. I remember at the rehearsal, on going through it with the orchestra, there were some difficult passages for the reed instruments, in imitation of the notes of the bird, which have to be played in ¢ time against 2 of the rest of the band. As they did not get them right, I took up Mr. Pollitzer’s violin and showed them how the passages ought to go, and they all applauded me. The concert on June 15th was most interest- ing, for it was the occasion of the first appear- ance in England at an orchestral concert of the celebrated French composer and pianist, M. Camille Saint-Saéns. I had engaged him to come over from Paris and play one of his own concertos, not previously heard here, the now well-known one in G minor, No. 2, which was afterwards to become a favourite piece of all the great pianists at home and abroad. Needless to say, the audience was enchanted. I was thus the first to have given Saint-Saéns the opportunity of playing one of his con- certos here, and I continued to engage him for three consecutive seasons. None of the London Orchestral Societies gave him the chance of 136 MY ORCHESTRAL CONCERTS being heard at their concerts, and I am therefore very proud of having brought him before the public. I have alluded elsewhere to him, and I much treasure a valuable breast-pin which he presented to me. At the request of Madame Jenny Lind Gold- schmidt, I engaged a young Swedish singer, Mlle Riego, to sing for this concert. Madame Jenny Lind selected the songs for her herself, as she was her pupil, and wrote me: “I know you will be kind to her, dear Mr. Ganz, and follow her well. She can, however, sing in time.” _On June 29th another great artist, the Polish violinist, M. Henri Wieniawski, played one of Vieuxtemp’s concertos in his own inimitable way. He was adelightful and unassuming man, and held the post of principal violin professor at the Brussels conservatoire. His compositions are now well known, being played by all the leading violinists. I remember that in Vieux- temps’ “‘ Air Varié ”’ the last variation has to be HENRI WIENIAWSKI 187 played staccato, with up-and-down bowing, and he played it better than the composer. I know this from having accompanied him in it and having previously heard Vieuxtemps play it. I gave Wieniawski one of his last engagements at a private party, where he played Mendelssohn’s D minor Trio with De Swert, the ’cellist, and myself. He died very soon afterwards ; but his widow, who is an English lady, the niece of George Osborne, the pianist, is still alive and lives in this country. But to return to the concert, I also conducted Wagner’s Tannhdauser Overture, and I remember with pleasure that Mr. Hughes, a member of the Covent Garden Orchestra, and the acknowledged best player living of the “ ophicleide,’’ paid me the great compliment of saying he had never heard it better performed. I can well remember the first performance in England of this overture at a New Philharmonic Concert on May Ist, 1854: I was playing in the orchestra. It is usually stated that it was first given at an Old Philharmonic Concert in 1855 under Richard Wagner’s direction, which is incorrect. In 1879, as Dr. Henry Wylde wished to retire from the enterprise, I decided to continue by myself. I now became sole director and con- ductor, and I made various alterations in the orchestra, increasing it to eighty-one performers, and I engaged a number of distinguished. first 188 MY ORCHESTRAL CONCERTS violins, some of whom were soloists. Mr. Pol-:. litzer had been the leader for many years and I retained him in the same position. He was a first-rate leader in every way. I was deter- mined to carry on the concerts with as much energy and perseverance as my health would allow. It was a hard task, as they were hardly a financial success either in Dr. Wylde’s time or from the time I became associated with him. As Berlioz’s music had been neglected for many years in concert programmes, I wished to revive the interest in the works of this wonder- ful composer, and I performed his symphony Harold in Italy at the first concert on May 26th; it made a great sensation, and the Press spoke most favourably of the work and praised the performance. I first heard it under the direction of the composer at these concerts in 1855 at Exeter Hall, when I was playing the violin in the orchestra, and it then made a deep impression on me, I remember seeing Meyer- beer sitting in the audience at this concert. He was a small, slight man, with a very interesting face, and attracted a good deal of attention. At my concert in 1879 Herr Joseph Strauss played the viola obbligato part which had been played by Ernst in 1855. The Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh honoured the concert with their presence; the Duke had previously told me that he would go anywhere to hear Beethoven’s Overture to Egmont, with which HAROLD IN ITALY 189 I opened it. Another attraction at this concert was Beethoven’s Pianoforte Concerto in E flat, the “‘ Emperor,” which was magnificently played by Charles Hallé. When I escorted the Duke and Duchess of Edinburgh to their carriage at the end they spoke to me in German in most complimentary terms. I had beforehand given the Duke a pianoforte score of the Symphony to enable him to follow it with greater interest. As I attached great importance to the ana- lytical programmes for my concerts, I asked Dr. W. A. Barrett, the accomplished critic of the Morning Post, and Vicar Choral of St. Paul’s Cathedral, to write them. They were much more explicit than most programmes in these days; the words of the foreign songs were carefully translated, and they were a complete guide to the audience. On May 10th, 1879, Madame Essipoff made a welcome reappearance and delighted my audi- ence in the highest degree, playing Rubinstein’s “Caprice Russe” for the first time in England and Chopin’s Concerto in F minor. I also in- troduced to London Frederick Cowen’s entr’acte and dance of Almas from The Corsair. The concert on May 24th was remarkable for the appearance of both Saint-Saéns and Sarasate. One would have expected such a combination to draw a huge crowd, but such was not the case. When Sarasate gave recitals on his own account they were always crammed, which shows that 140 MY ORCHESTRAL CONCERTS the public wished to hear one artist, by himself, at the whole concert. There were two novelties by Saint-Saéns, his C minor Concerto and his Symphony in A minor, which I asked him to conduct. A manuscript overture by G. A. Osborne, called ‘‘ The Forest Maiden,’ was performed ; it was written expressly for my concert, and the composer was present and expressed himself pleased with the performance. On June 7th a new overture by Alice Mary Smith (wife of Judge Meadows White) was performed, called ‘‘ Jason, or the Argonauts and the Sirens.” This lady had written many charming songs, and I was glad to bring her overture before the public, as I have always included works by English composers as often as possible, and my efforts in this direction have always been appreciated. Alfred Jaell played Beethoven’s € minor Concerto, and I conducted the Erotica. When the next season (1880) commenced, as Dr. Wylde would not allow me to make use of the title New Philharmonic Concerts, without paying him for it, I decided to discard it and to call them ‘‘ Ganz’s Orchestral Concerts.” On April 17th M. Emil Sauret played Hein- rich Ernst’s F sharp minor Concerto, consisting of one movement called Allegro Pathétique. I had engaged him specially from Berlin to play for me, and he acquitted himself splendidly. For this concert I had also engaged Madame DEBUT OF HERBERT SIMS REEVES 141 Marie Roze, who sang Gluck’s air from Alceste, “ Divinités du Styx,” and the aria ‘“ L’amerd saro constante ’’ from Il Ré Pastore, by Mozart, with violin obbligato by Sauret. I suggested this beautiful song to Madame Roze because I had first heard it sung by Jenny Lind on her musical tour in 1856 to Ernst’s obbligato, and was always so charmed with its beauty and the way she sang it that I had never forgotten it. Rubinstein’s Symphony in F major was given as a novelty. On May 1st M. Saint-Saéns played his D minor Concerto for the first time in England with all his customary brilliancy, and another novelty was Goldmark’s Penthesilea Overture. I had also engaged Mr. Sims Reeves, but this was one of the occasions when he disappointed. At the concert on May 29th the distinguished French pianist, Madame Montigny-Rémaury, played Weber’s ‘‘ Concert-Stiick,” and an Intro- duction and Rondo by Benjamin Goddard, which he had specially composed for these concerts. She was sister-in-law to Ambroise Thomas, director of the Paris Conservatoire and com- poser of Mignon, Hamlet, etc. I also produced Svendsen’s Romeo and Juliet fantasia. The concert on June 12th was noteworthy for the first appearance of Herbert Sims Reeves, son of the famous tenor. When he came on the platform there was such a storm of applause, lasting for at least five minutes, that it quite 142 MY ORCHESTRAL CONCERTS unnerved him. However, he pulled himself together and sang his first song, which was the recitative ‘‘ Nel fragor della festa,” and the aria ** Alma soave,”’ from Donizetti’s Maria di Rohan. He sang it extremely well, and was several times recalled, but one could see he was very nervous at the ordeal. His second song was Schubert’s *“* Ave Maria,” and his third ‘‘ Refrain thy Voice from Weeping,” from Sullivan’s Light of the World, which the composer kindly conducted to give éclat to young Reeves’s singing. Herbert Reeves is the image of his father, though some- what smaller, being short and slender. He had a small tenor voice, but sang with great taste, and, having been well taught in Italy, pronounced his words clearly and well. His début at my concert was arranged in the following manner. At the beginning of the season his father had asked me to give him a call at his London ad- dress, when he asked me to let his son, Herbert, come out at one of my Orchestral Concerts, adding that, out of gratitude, he would sing for me at these concerts for a reduced fee, namely, fifty guineas for each concert instead of a hundred. I at once accepted this generous offer, but, unfortunately, Mr. Sims Reeves failed me at two of the concerts, sending word that he was not well. However, he sang at the third, being the last of the series, in 1880. I had an- nounced him in the usual way in all the adver- tisements, when he again called off. On the SIMS REEVES 143 day before the concert, however, he sent word that he felt better and would sing. I immedi- ately rushed off to the newspaper offices to get his name inserted in the next morning’s adver- tisements ; but it was rather a late announcement to make, and the public did not come forward in the same way as if they had had a longer notice. There was also a dreadful thunderstorm before the concert began, and I was in doubt whether Reeves would venture to come all the way from Upper Norwood in such fearful weather. However, he did turn up aiid sang the following items most beautifully : ‘“‘ If with all your Hearts”’ from Elijah, and ‘‘ Adelaide ” by Beethoven, in which I accompanied him. No one ever sang this beautiful aria—which he sang in Italian—better than he, or with more intense feeling. But I have digressed too long from the concert at which his son Herbert sang. Herr Hugo Heermann from Frankfurt played Goetz’s fine Violin Concerto, which had not been heard in London before. I ought to have men- tioned that at the concert at which Sims Reeves appeared I had an orchestral prelude from Saint-Saéns’s cantata Le Déluge performed. This was played by the orchestra, the violin obbligato being played by the Belgian violinist, M. Ovide Musin, and it was kindly conducted by the composer, as it was the first performance in England. M. Alphonse Duvernoy was the 11 144 MY ORCHESTRAL CONCERTS pianist on this occasion, and played Mendelssohn’s Concerto in G minor with good effect. The concert on April 80th, 1881, was remark- able for the first appearance in England of the celebrated pianist, Madame Sophie Menter. I had engaged her to come over expressly, and went to meet her at Charing Cross Station. She had her secretary with her, and also her favourite cat, ‘“‘ Klecks,”’ which was carefully stowed away in a large basket. It was a huge cat, and she was simply devoted to it. She called it ‘‘Klecks’’ (ink-spot) because it was jet black. Madame Menter was Liszt’s favourite pupil, and she played his Concerto in E flat (No. 1) as no one had played it since Liszt gave up playing ; her power was prodigious and her playing re- minded me of Anton Rubinstein’s. She was very good-looking, wore magnificent diamonds, and dressed beautifully—much better than the majority of lady pianists. Her solo pieces were ‘** Pastorale’’ and ‘‘ Capriccio”? by Scarlatti, a transcription of Mendelssohn’s song, ‘‘ Auf Fliigeln des Gesanges” by Tausig and the “Tarantella ’’ from Auber’s Masaniello, tran- scribed by Liszt. This concert was also note- worthy for the first performance in England of Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique, Episode de la Vie dun Artiste, Op. 4. Single movements had been previously performed here, but the Symphonie had not been played in its entirety BERLIOZ’S SYMPHONIE FANTASTIQUE 145 except by me. The work created a veritable sensation. It required an augmented orchestra and the following extra instruments: one flute, two bassoons, one contra-fagotto, two cornets, one ophicleide, one tympani, two large bells (which I had specially cast), and four harps (in my opinion the proper effect cannot be obtained with a less number), making a grand total of ninety-two orchestral performers. The second movement, a scéne du bal, a charming waltz‘ movement for which I engaged four harpists who came in with brilliant effect, was enthusiastically encored. It is not for me to attempt a description of this, perhaps the most characteristic work of Berlioz, and I can only hope that all my readers have heard it since then. To show the general interest the performance aroused I append an extract from Punch at the time. AT MR. GANZ’S CONCERT He. We are very late, but we are in time for the Fourth Part of this marvellous Symphonie Fantastique. A wonderful man is BERLIoz. She. Oh, charming! So original! I hope he’ll write many more Symphonies. He (with a vague idea that BERLIOZ is no more). Yes, yes! He was a Russian, wasn’t he, by the by ? She (equally fogged). It is a very Russian name. He (looking at programme). Now forit! Ah! —(pretending he knows it by heart)—this move- 146 MY ORCHESTRAL CONCERTS ment illustrates a deep sleep accompanied by the most horrible visions. How admirably those loud sounds of the violoncello express one’s idea of a deep sleep ! She (not to be outdone at this game of “‘ Brag’’). Yes, yes! Listen! Now he thinks he is being led to the scaffold to the strains of a solemn march. How gloomy, how awe-inspiring are those pizzicato touches on the violins ! He (having got another bit by heart). Grand! Grand! Just hearken to the muffled sounds of heavy footsteps! It is finished! Oh, massive ! Oh, grand! Like a reverie in some old cathe- dral ! She. It almost moved me to tears. Nothing more exquisitely doleful have I ever heard ! Third Party (leaning over). How do you do? How are you? I saw you come in. How late you were! But you were in time for that third lovely movement. He and She. Oh, grand! Magnificent! Sue perb ! Solemn ! Third Party. The light rustling of the trees moved by the wind was so wonderfully ex- pressed ! He (amazed), Eh? Third Party. Yes, you noticed it, of course. Did it not conduce to bring to your heart an unaccustomed placidity, and to give to your ideas a more radiant hue ? She (confounded). What ? Third Party. Why, the Third Part. He and She. Oh, the Third Part ! Third Party. Yes; and now you'll hear the Fourth Part. Now you will hear a deep sleep accompanied by the most horrible visions. Ta! ta! [Eait, and their enjoyment is gone for the Concert. 146] BERLIOZ’S ROMEO AND JULIET 147 Although some critics gave the work a favour- able notice, several papers, and one in particular, cut the Symphony to pieces. This, however, did not affect me, and I repeated it at the next concert. Berlioz had a hard fight in Paris to get his works performed, and it was only after his death that he was fully appreciated by his compatriots. Without being egotistical, I must confess to feeling proud of having brought his Symphonie Fantastique before the English public. On May 28th I performed another of Berlioz’s great symphonies, his Romeo and Juliet, which had not been given here for some time—so I revived it. I took great pains to give it ade- quately, as it requires two singers and a chorus, which I had to provide. One of the movements, a scherzo, is called Queen Mab, in which two cymbales antiques (little antique cymbals) are used. This reminded me of the time when the work was performed for the first time in Eng- land under the direction of the composer at one of the New Philharmonic Concerts in 1852, then started by Dr. Wylde, when Berlioz asked me to play one of these little instruments in conjunction with Edouard Silas. Well, this symphony, under my direction, was well received—it is a fine work and most poetical. The Queen Mab scherzo is very diffi- cult to play, as the composer has indicated the tempo prestissimo, but it went well. Miss Ellen 148 MY ORCHESTRAL CONCERTS Amelia Orridge and Mr. Faulkner Leigh were the singers who took part in it—poor Miss Orridge, who had a fine contralto voice, unfortu- nately died soon after, in the height of her career. At the fourth concert, on June 11th, I per- formed Gluck’s Orpheus, which the public were most anxious to hear, as it had rarely been given, and they crowded St. James’s Hall. I had a splendid cast. Madame Patey took the part of Orpheus, which she sang admirably, especially ‘‘ Che Faro,” and Miss Carlotta Elliot was Eurydice. The chorus did justice to their various numbers. Many years afterwards the opera was staged at Covent Garden, when the Sisters Giulia and Sophia Ravogli made such a deep impression in it. The last concert of the season took place on June 25th, at which Madame Sophie Menter made her second appearance and played Schu- mann’s Concerto in A minor magnificently, bringing out all its poetical beauty. She did not practise in the daytime, but during the night, and it must have been a real infliction to have had rooms near hers. Once when I visited her at her lodgings I had the privilege of meet- ing Klecks, who sat at the table with the free- dom of a child and ate the same food that we did. In fact, Menter was perfectly fascinated by the animal in a way I have never seen equalled, and she dragged it about with her wherever she went. GORING THOMAS 149 Another interesting item at the last concert was a new song, “ Kennst du das Land?” by the young English composer, Goring Thomas. This was its first performance, and it was beauti- fully sung by Madame Marie Roze. I have already alluded to Esmeralda, the fine opera of this talented composer. He was a man of great charm and refinement of character, whose career was, unhappily, too short a one. He was always a hard worker, and in a letter he wrote me says: ‘** The days ought to be twenty-four hours, in- stead of twelve, to get in all one has to do.” The season of 1882 began on April 22nd, when I gave the first performance in England of Liszt’s great Symphony founded on Dante’s ** Divina Commedia’? which he dedicated to Richard Wagner. It is, of course, a very diffi- cult work, and in the last movement a chorus of women’s voices is required, and also an organ. There are three movements in all: (1) Inferno; (2) Purgatorio; (3) Paradiso (Magnificat); and besides the usual full orchestra I had again to engage several additional instrumentalists, which brought the number of players up to ninety-four. I don’t think the audience grasped the beauties of the work, with its sublime last movement, when the female voices come in, and it did not have a good reception with the English Press, save for such enlightened critics as Dr. Francis 150 MY ORCHESTRAL CONCERTS Hueffer of the Times and a few more, but I was bound to give novelties and not continue to perform humdrum works, and I was justified in following this policy. I should like to put on record that I owed much valuable counsel and advice to my friend, Francis Hueffer, who will always be remembered for his strenuous advo- cacy of the claims of Wagner, Berlioz, and Liszt. Herr Ondricek, a new Hungarian violinist, played Mendelssohn’s Concerto in E minor with good tone and masterly execution. At the second concert I performed Schubert’s Symphony in C major, and Miss Agnes Hunting- ton, the American contralto, made her début. She sang the aria ‘“‘Non pit mesta” from Cenerentola, and made an instantaneous hit. She also gave two German songs by Hartmann and Schubert. Some years later Carl Rosa engaged her for the title-réle of Paul Jones, which she sang for many months with much success at the Prince of ‘Wales’s Theatre. On May 20th I repeated Liszt’s Dante Sym- phony, when I think it was better understood by the public. Previous to this concert I had seen in the Times that a new Russian pianist, M. Vladimir de Pachmann, had made a great sensation at a concert in Paris at the Salle Erard. I wrote at once to Messrs. Erard to offer him an engagement at this concert, which he accepted, and made his first English appear- ance under my direction, He played Chopin’s FIRST APPEARANCE OF PACHMANN 151 Concerto in F minor splendidly, and some solos, and at once established his reputation as a Chopin player par excellence. Since he first played at my concerts he has acquired certain mannerisms which amuse the public and do no harm. When I spoke to him about them he said he wished to imitate Von Bilow, who was his beau idéal. I have men- tioned Von Biilow’s curious mannerisms in an- Lontees & Guill Madina bVadkewrous TSBL cS other part of this book, and explained that they are due to short sight, and partly to his being overcome by his feelings. In fact, he does not know what he is doing, but Pachmann does know, and, I think, looks about him and con- verses with the audience for the fun of the thing. But I may be wrong, and my readers will have their own opinions. Anyhow, he is a very great artist and a magnificent player, 152 MY ORCHESTRAL CONCERTS At the fourth concert, on June 8rd, I repeated Berlioz’s Symphonie Fantastique. The scherzo was again encored; the Symphony seemed to fascinate the audience, and I was called on at the end of the performance and had to bow my acknowledgments. I had again engaged my friend, Madame Patey, and she sang the arietta ‘““Lungi dal caro bene” by Sarti, and a new song by Blumenthal. Madame Montigny-Ré- maury was the pianist, and played Beethoven’s Concerto in C major, and introduced Saint- Saéns’s Minuet and Gavotte, from his Septuor. The fifth and last concert of the season took place on June 17th. I had engaged M. de Pachmann again and had selected Beethoven’s Concerto in G major for him to play, and he again played some Chopin most beautifully. I had also arranged to play a duet with him, on two pianos—variations on the Gypsy March from‘Weber’s Preciosa, arranged by Mendelssohn and Moscheles, which pleased immensely, and we were both recalled. The orchestral accom- paniments were conducted by my leader, Herr Adolph Pollitzer. ‘‘ Der Freischiitz”’ overture concluded the programme. This, alas! was the last of my Orchestral Concerts, for I could not carry them on for want of financial support adequate to the enormous expenses involved, though they had great artistic value. During the nine years I carried them on I performed many new and unknown THE LAST CONCERT 158 orchestral works, and introduced many new artists, who have since made great reputations. Unfortunately, the public was not then ripe for orchestral concerts, but nous avons changé tout cela! Orchestral Concerts are now en vogue, and such conductors as Nikisch, Henry J. Wood, Landon Ronald, and others, attract the London public. During my concert season I had great difficulties in keeping my orchestra together for the rehearsals. I generally began these at 9.80, and at 12 o’clock their instruments were fetched away for the rehearsals at Covent Garden, and I had to finish my own rehearsal with half an orchestra. In those days wind and brass instruments were very scarce, and I was obliged to share them with Covent Garden. CHAPTER VIII MY FIRST VISIT TO PARIS, ETC. My first visit to Paris—I see the troops pass before Napoleon III and the Empress Eugénie—I visit the gala performance at the Opera—Nicolini—Rossini—The three occasions on which I have played before Queen Victoria—The Prince Consort and the Great Exhibition of 1851—Meyerbeer—My pupils—Three Viceroys—The Ladies Spencer Churchill—The Countess of Warwick and Lady Algernon Gordon Lennox—Miss Braddon. In August 1859 I visited Paris for the first time, when on my honeymoon, and was en- chanted with that wonderful city. We saw the entry of the French troops, after the Italian- Austrian War, when 80,000 soldiers passed before Napoleon III, who was on horseback at the corner of the Rue de la Paix, surrounded by a brilliant staff. It took from ten in the morn- ing till six in the evening for them to pass. It was a splendid sight, but it had its mournful side, because many of them were wounded and had their heads bandaged and their arms in slings. It was very interesting to see the Vivandiéres, in the uniforms of the various regi- ments, pass by, and they were tremendously cheered by the public. I had hired two seats near where the Emperor stood, in the Rue de 154 NAPOLEON III 155 la Paix, and could see everything perfectly well. In the evening there was a gala performance at the Opera, and Guillaume Tell was performed. As this masterpiece of Rossini’s is very seldom performed in England, I venture to say that, being French in character and style, it will live with Il Barbiere, which is thoroughly Italian in character, for many years to come. This was the old Opera-house in the Rue Lepeletier. The Emperor and Empress were present, and the doors of all the private boxes were left open and guarded by gendarmes, which was done in case some maniac should fire a shot at the Emperor or Empress; but, fortunately, nothing happened. During the entr’actes 1 saw the Em- peror and Empress visit some of their relatives, who sat in the middle boxes of the grand circle. The performance was very fine, and the scenery splendid; but, unfortunately, I cannot remember the names of the principal singers. When we left the opera we found ourselves in fairyland. The Jardin des Tuileries, and the Champs Elysées, as far as the Arc de Triomphe, were brilliantly illuminated with coloured lamps, and the streets were thronged with sight-seers, Napoleon was then at the height of his power. I remember, the night before the gala perform- ance, when we were driving in the Bois de Boulogne, he and the Empress passed us in an open carriage drawn by six horses with out- 156 MY FIRST VISIT TO PARIS, ETC. riders, coming from the palace at St. Cloud. All this pomp and glory was swamped eleven years later, when Germany conquered France, and some of the victorious troops entered Paris by the Arc de Triomphe, headed by the Uhlans of the Prussian Army, and Napoleon and the Empress had to take refuge in England, where they were hospitably received, and where the Empress is still living as a welcome guest and an intimate friend of the royal family. But this is ’ a matter of history. While in Paris in 1859 we often saw Madame Nicolini, who was very kind to us in showing us round. I had known her and her son Ernesto before ; in fact, we were boys together and kept up our friendship till he died. When I first came to London I became acquainted with his parents, and, as Ernesto was studying the piano at the Paris Conservatoire, where he gained the first prize in 1855, he often came over to visit his parents; and thus I met him, and we used to amuse ourselves by playing pianoforte duets. Some years later he found out that he had a good tenor voice, and he then studied hard at singing. He was first engaged at the Salle Ventadour in Paris, where he made his début in 1862. He came to England in 1866, and was engaged at the Royal Italian Opera, Covent Garden, where he remained for many years as one of the principal tenor singers, and had. always a great success, especially in such parts VISIT TO ROSSINI 157 as Almaviva in Il Barbiere, singing the florid music to perfection; as Edgardo in Lucia, as Rhadames in Aida, as Alfredo in La Traviata, and as Faust. He was the first to sing the part of Lohengrin in Wagner’s opera when it was produced here. He sang every season at Covent Garden Theatre, where he was very popular in- deed. He was a very good-looking man, and many people said he resembled Mario, with which I quite agreed. He told me that singing Lohen- grin displaced his voice, and therefore he gave it up, although he sang it most beautifully ; but he never sang Tannhauser. His acting was excel- lent. His death occurred in January 1898. We thoroughly enjoyed our stay in Paris, visiting the museums, theatres, the Champs Elysées Gardens, where Musard’s famous band played, and Versailles, where we saw the foun- tains play. We also went to Fontainebleau, where the great Napoleon signed his abdication and drove through the beautiful park there. When I was in Paris in the Exhibition year of 1867 I visited Rossini at Passy, on the out- ‘ skirts of Paris. He received me very kindly, and, in looking over my album containing the autographs of many celebrated musicians, he signed his name at my request, under the signa- ture of Thalberg, whom he greatly admired. In looking through the names he spoke of many of the artists and composers, whom he had known personally, in very flattering terms. I 158 MY FIRST VISIT TO PARIS, ETC. had a letter of introduction to him from a mutual friend, Madame Puzzi. We had a talk about musical doings. I told him various bits of news connected with his operas, which were being performed in London during the season, and he seemed much in- terested. I was always glad to have had this interview with him, though, as it took place so long ago, I cannot remember his exact words, but only the gist of what he said. c —_—_ Tacaey SO J) Ane} In describing my future visits to Paris I shall have something to say of my musical impres- sions there. I have had the honour of playing before Her Majesty Queen Victoria on three different occa- sions. On the first occasion I accompanied Madame Marie Roze at Balmoral in 1885. I drove with this artist from Ballater to the Castle, but it was too dark to see the beautiful scenery on Dee side. The Queen spoke to me in German and asked me whether I was related to the Conzertmeister Leopold and Moritz Ganz, QUEEN VICTORIA 159 who had played before her at Windsor many years before. I replied they were my uncles. On referring to my diary I find this happened. on June 10th, 1856, twenty-nine years before! I well remember taking my uncles down to Wind- sor and having great difficulty in finding rooms at an hotel, as it was Ascot week. I went with the mand the other artists to the Castle and listened to the concert in the next room. The Queen seemed pleased with Madame Roze’s singing; I remember that the Duke of Con- naught was there, dressed in Highland dress, as were also some of the other men present, and I had to sign the Queen’s visitors’ book. The drawing-room in which the music took place was hung round with a number of en- gravings of the Royal Family, and the furniture was upholstered with Scotch plaid. Every- thing was very simple and _ unceremonious. When all was over, one of the gentlemen-in- waiting handed me, in the name of the Queen, a cat’s-eye breast-pin set in diamonds, which could also be worn as a stud. Supper was then served to us, and we drove back to Ballater, a distance of eleven miles. The second occasion was at Osborne House, Isle of Wight. 1 went with M. Johannes Wolff and M. Joseph Hollman in 1889 to play there before the Queen. We played part of Men- delssohn’s Trio in D minor—I remember the late Prince Henry of Battenberg turning over the 12 160 MY FIRST VISIT TO PARIS, ETC. leaves for me, and telling me that he often played the ’cello. The Queen gave me a pair of gold sleeve-links, with a diamond in the middle of each. Just as at Balmoral, it was nearly dark when we arrived at Osborne, and I had no opportunity of seeing the natural beauties of the place. The third occasion was at Windsor Castle in 1894, when I accompanied Madame Adelina Patti in all her songs. She had come specially from her castle in Wales to sing to the Queen, and had asked me to come to Windsor to play for her. Naturally I looked forward to a very interesting evening, as it indeed proved to be. The Queen sat about twenty feet from the piano and used an opera-glass in looking at Madame Patti, who sang a number of songs. During “Home, Sweet Home” I noticed the Queen wiped the tears from her eyes. When Madame Patti had finished her first song Princess Christian, who sat by the side of the Queen, called to me in German, “‘ Herr Ganz, the Queen wishes to speak to you.” I rose immedi- ately and advanced towards the chair where the Queen sat. Her Majesty spoke to me in German, in a lovely melodious voice, asking me what other songs Madame Patti would like to sing. She had a list in her hand, so I named some of them which I thought Her Majesty would like. Among other songs Madame Patti. sang one by Princess Henry of Battenberg, who QUEEN VICTORIA 161 was present with Prince Christian of Schleswig- Holstein and a number of court officials, both ladies and gentlemen. At the end of the con- cert the Queen spoke for some time with Madame Patti, then rose, and bowed very graciously to Madame Patti and myself and the rest of the company. We then adjourned to a room where supper was served, and Sir William Carington, Comptroller of the Household, handed me, in the name of the Queen, a crocodile leather cigar- case, mounted in gold, with the royal crown and the Queen’s initials. Ispoke to Lady Ponsonby, one of the ladies-in-waiting, wife of Colonel Sir Henry Ponsonby, Private Secretary to the Queen, whom I had known as Miss Bulteel at Lady Waldegrave’s at Nuneham Park, and she said she was very much pleased to renew my acquaint- ance. Next morning I was shown over the State Apartments at Windsor Castle, and saw the . various collections of art-treasures. When Madame Patti left the Castle that morn- ing the Great Western express was specially stopped for her at Slough by Royal Command, so that she could get back to Craig-y-nos that day. On her arrival home she received a gracious telegram from Queen Victoria hoping she had had a comfortable journey, and later a signed photograph. My daughter Adelina, who was staying at Craig-y-nos, and travelled with her, told me that, although tired from her early start, 162 MY FIRST VISIT TO PARIS, ETC. she insisted on keeping awake the whole journey in case sleeping should affect her voice, as she considers sleep before singing injurious to the voice. I often remember seeing the Prince Consort in former years. He was a tall, handsome man, and, as everybody knows, a great patron of the arts, and the originator of the first Great Ex- hibition held in Hyde Park in 1851. I went to the Exhibition the last few days before it closed, and more than a hundred thousand people were present—the crowds were so great that one could scarcely walk about. It was a gay scene, and the picture and sculpture galleries were splendid, one of the great attractions being a statue called ‘‘ The Greek Slave,’’ by Gibson. It was the first. time, too, that the public had seen machinery in motion. I have been to a good many exhibitions since then—the one in 1862, also held in Hyde Park, and the 1867 Paris Exhibition, but none came near the Great Exhibition of 1851 in picturesqueness. Another of the attractions there, I remember, was a crystal fountain, which stood in the transept and is now in the nave of the Crystal Palace. Meyerbeer came to London for the Exhibition of 1862 in Hyde Park, for the opening of which he had composed an overture, in the form of a kind of march. My father had known him personally for many years, and he took me to see him at the York MEYERBEER 168 Hotel in Albemarle Street. Of course I was very anxious to see him, and wondered what he was like. He was a little man, dark-haired, with a most intelligent face. My father asked him to write something in my musical autograph book, which he did at once. He asked my father to get him a metronome to mark the tempi of his new overture, and my father succeeded in obtaining one for him. I often saw him during the rehearsals of Taub (ayia JJ Dinorah at Covent Garden, when the title-réle was sung by Madame Patti. He constantly in- terrupted the rehearsals by showing Costa and the artists what todo ; but, although he corrected them constantly, he was at the same time most polite, and never hurt their feelings. He belonged to a rich Jewish banker’s family in Berlin, which enabled him to have his operas first performed at the Opera-house in Paris, where innumerable rehearsals took place, last- ing several months, Meyerbeer, I have often 164 MY FIRST VISIT TO PARIS, ETC. been told, defrayed some of the heavy expenses connected with their production out of his own pocket. When any of his operas succeeded, as they generally did, they were given in Berlin and other cities on the Continent, and in London, where they were always well received. I re- member being present at the production of LT’ Africaine on July 22nd, 1865, in which Pauline Lucca took a brilliant part. The prelude of the last act was played by the violins unisono, on the fourth string, and created a great im- pression. On future occasions it was always redemanded. Meyerbeer had the title of General Musical Director bestowed on him by the King of Prussia at Berlin and conducted the state performance at the Royal Opera and also the State Concerts, and when a royal prince or princess was about to be married he composed a “ Fackeltanz,” which was a sort of Polonaise, in which the bride and bridegroom, as well as the King and Queen and other court personages, walked in proces- sion to the music. This custom always took place the evening before the wedding, everybody who walked in the procession holding a lighted torch in his hand. Meyerbeer, like many other good composers, was not a good conductor, the reason, I think, being that when he was conducting his own works he was very nervous. MEYERBEER 165 He had one great terror, and that was of being buried alive, and he left directions in his will that, after his death, several days were to elapse before his burial. I heard it said, but cannot vouch for the fact, that when Gounod made such a success with his Faust, Meyerbeer simply collapsed, realising that his day of being the only successful operatic composer in Paris at that time was at an end, and he died soon after its production. Anyhow, he had had his day. No modern composer has had such com- plete success with his operas. He was also able to select the best singers, and to finance his pro- ductions—if it is true that he did so. Poor Richard Wagner, in his earlier days, had the greatest difficulty in getting his operas per- formed in Paris, or even his own native country, and had no money to offer towards their ex- penses. Nevertheless, he succeeded in after- years, and has drawn larger audiences together than any other modern composer. It was, perhaps, a unique coincidence that I had three Viceroys as my pupils, one of whom was the present Earl of Cadogan, a former Viceroy of Ireland. I gave him lessons as an Eton boy, when he came home for the holidays to the old Cadogan House in Cadogan Place, where, since he inherited the title, he has built a magnificent mansion. His father was Viscount Chelsea (the old Earl Cadogan was then still alive). 166 MY FIRST VISIT TO PARIS, ETC. The next one was the late Earl of Derby, who had lessons from me in St. James’s Square, where his parents lived, when he was still the Hon. Frederick Stanley. He honoured me with his friendship until his death, and often invited me to his political parties, and was a most amiable man. About that time his mother, the Countess of Derby, asked me to arrange a musical party for her. At her request I had engaged a Viennese singer, Madame Wildauer, from the Imperial Opera, but before the soirée took place she was suddenly taken ill. I then remembered that my friend, Madame Viardot Garcia, was here for the season, so I went to see her to beg her to sing, as I only heard of Madame Wildauer’s illness the very day of the concert. She asked me why I had come, and when I said that I wanted her, as a favour, to kindly fill Madame Wildauer’s place, as she was ill, she at once expressed concern and said she would fill the gap, which, for so great a singer, was most considerate. Herr Alexander Reichardt, the tenor, I had already engaged. The old Duchess of Cambridge was present, with her daughter Princess Mary, and Lady Derby introduced me to the Duchess, who said some kind things to me in German, praising the artists and the programme. The great Earl of Derby, called ‘““The Rupert of Debate,” was, of course, present. The last time I saw my pupil, the late Lord Derby, to speak to, was at. a public dinner to MY PUPILS 167 the Colonial Premiers in 1902, at which the Duke of York—our present King—presided. Lord Derby conversed a long time with me and asked me about my professional doings. The third Viceroy was the present Earl of Dudley, whom I taught as a boy at Dudley House. None of these boys, when they grew up, had time to keep up their music, as they have all had great political careers. As Professor of Music I have had innumer- able pupils, too many for me to name; but I may mention that among them were the daughters of the late Duchess of Marlborough, whose hus- band was also a Viceroy of Ireland in 1874. I used to go three times a week to their house in St. James’s Square, which was afterwards the Devonshire Club for some years. They were Lady Cornelia Spencer-Churchill, who became Lady ‘Wimborne, Rosamond (now Lady de Ramsey), Lady Anne, who became Duchess of Roxburghe, and their aunt, Lady Clementina, afterwards Marchioness Camden, and the late Lady Fanny, who became Lady Tweedmouth. They were all very clever players, and took a great interest in their lessons. The Duchess of Marlborough used sometimes to come into the room to listen to their playing; but whenever she came they were so nervous that they could never do themselves justice. The Duchess was herself a first-rate pianist, and I often gave her lessons. I dedicated one of my compositions to 168 MY FIRST VISIT TO PARIS, ETC. her—a, difficult transcription of the Neapolitan air “‘ Santa Lucia,’ which she read off at sight with ease. Lord Randolph Churchill used to rush in, like a whirlwind, while I was teaching his sisters, and speak very loudly to them, and his eldest brother, the Marquis of Blandford, did the same. Later on Lady Georgiana Spencer-Churchill, afterwards Lady Howe, and Lady Sarah Spencer- Churchill, who married Colonel Wilson, also took lessons from me, and, more recently, the daughters of the Duchess of Roxburghe—so I taught three generations of the family. I also taught all the daughters of the late Lady Mildred Beresford-Hope, sister of the great Marquis of Salisbury, and many others, among whom were the Countess of Warwick and her sister, Lady Algernon Gordon Lennox, before she was married, but Lady Warwick also had lessons from me after her marriage. I never had any fault to find with these pupils, as they always prepared their lessons to my satisfaction ; they were all talented, and some read splendidly at sight. At the various schools where I taught I used to notice how much the pupils enjoyed study- ing Beethoven, Mendelssohn and Schumann, which many of them played by heart. At the present time there are few private pupils on account of the numerous musical institutions, such as the Royal Academy of Music, the Royal MISS BRADDON 169 College of Music, the Guildhall School of Music, and Trinity College—where, through the spirit of emulation, they make great progress, and where also the tuition is much less expensive than formerly, when the fee was one guinea for each private lesson. Before leaving the subject of my pupils I ought to mention two more interesting ones, namely, Lady Elizabeth Pringle, sister of the Marquis of Breadalbane, who was, I think, nearly eighty years of age when I taught her, in spite of which she studied the longest and most difficult sonatas by Bee- thoven with me—and also Mrs. Maxwell (Miss Braddon, of Lady Audley’s Secret fame), who studied with me as recently as four years ago, with great earnestness, and practised for me diligently between each lesson. She lately wrote a novel into which she introduced me under a thin disguise. The old-fashioned courtesy and reti- cence which made her write, ‘‘I did not feel at liberty to give even a hint of your personality in my book without submitting the proof to you,”’ might afford an example to the indiscreet novelists of to-day. CHAPTER IX RECOLLECTIONS OF RICHARD WAGNER I first meet Wagner—He conducts at the Albert Hall—I attend the Third Cycle of The Ring at Bayreuth—King Louis of Bavaria—I attend a reception at Wagner’s house—‘‘ Wahn- fried’”"—Wagner’s performances in Paris—‘ Bravo les chiens !""—I hear Tristan and Isolde at Munich—The Prinz Regenten Theater. I wap the privilege of meeting Richard Wagner at Schott’s music-shop in Regent Street, in 1877. He had come over from Bayreuth to conduct the Wagner Festival given at the Albert Hall to collect funds for the Wagner Festspiel (Wagner Festival performances) at Bayreuth, and Mr. Wolff, the manager of Schott’s, intro- duced me to him. He wore felt shoes, as he was then suffering from gout. I had my little daughter Georgina with me, and he stooped down and talked to her and gave her a kiss. I showed him some bills of my Orchestral Con- certs, which were hanging up in the shop, and contained the names of some of his own orchestral works which I was going to perform. When I pointed this out Wagner said, ““I am very glad indeed of that, as we badly want money.” He meant to carry en the Ring-des Nibelungen, 170 FIRST APPEARANCE OF RICHTER 171 The Wagner Concerts at the Albert Hall were composed entirely of his works, and he conducted the first part of the programme him- self. Unfortunately, he was no longer at his best, and had lost something of his great skill as a conductor. The second part of the Wagner programme was conducted by Dr. Hans Richter, who, when he mounted the conductor’s desk, was received most enthusiastically by the members of the orchestra. That was Richter’s first appearance in London, and everybody knows what a won- derful career he has had during so many years of activity, and how greatly he has improved orchestral concerts—not to mention his number- less performances of Wagner’s operas at Drury Lane Theatre and Covent Garden. The singers engaged for this festival were principally those who sang in ‘Wagner’s operas in Bayreuth. They were Frau Materna, Herren Scaria, Grimm, Schloesser, Unger, and others. I remember giving a supper-party at my house at which Materna sat next to me, and several more of these great artists were also my guests, and so was our well-known German doctor, Carl Harrer. The latter was himself a great Wagner singer, although only an amateur, but he could have become a first-rate opera-singer had he not entered the medical profession. We were all lively, and passed a most pleasant evening. Wagner, when in London, stayed at the house 172 RECOLLECTIONS OF RICHARD WAGNER of his young friend, Edward Dannreuther, 12, Orme Square, Bayswater. Before he left Eng- land Dannreuther gave a reception in his honour at which no end of musical people were present, and to which I was also invited. Madame Albani was among the guests and she asked me to introduce her to Wagner, which I did, and they had a very animated conversation together. I wonder whether Wagner knew that the lady he was talking to had so often sung his Elizabeth, Elsa, and Senta with great credit to herself. In the year 1876 I went to Bayreuth and heard the Ring. On the way there a very agreeable coincidence happened. Starting from Charing Cross Station, my neighbours in Harley Street, Dr. Critchett (father of Sir Anderson Critchett), and his daughter, Mrs. Boursot, sat next me by accident in the railway carriage, and we travelled together all the way to Bay~ reuth, which was a very pleasant occurrence. What was still more strange was that my seat was near theirs at the Bayreuth Theatre, although we did not buy our tickets to- gether. In those days the seats were very expensive —I paid £15 for mine, buying them at Schott’s— now you can get them for twenty-five shillings for each performance, £5 for the whole series of four operas. Dr. Critchett was a great admirer of Wagner, BAYREUTH ' 178 and when The Flying Dutchman was performed at the Lyceum, he went to hear it every night during the season. The First Cycle at Bayreuth commenced on August 18th, and the third, which I attended, was given from the 27th to the 30th. I had a very nice lodging in the house of the verger, just behind the church, and I was most com- fortable there. On the first evening, in Das Rheingold, the following singers appeared : Betz, from Berlin, as Wotan—he was a native of Mainz, where I was born—Frau Griin Sadler as Fricka, Schloesser as Mimi, Herr Gura from Munich as Donner, Vogl as Loge, Hill from Schwerin as Alberich. Fraulein Johanna Wagner, a niece of Wag- ner, took the part of Erda. She was a rather tall woman, with a resonant contralto voice. Fasolt and Fafner were taken by Eiler and Von Reichenberg. I was present at Her Majesty’s in 1856 when Johanna Wagner made her début as Romeo in Bellini’s opera, a part which suited her ad- mirably. Afterwards I met her with her father, Albert Wagner, the eminent tenor, at a soirée at Countess Bernstorff’s, when he asked me to accompany her in three songs: she was par- ticularly charming to me. In Die Walkiire the Siegmund was Herr Niemann from Berlin; a tall, handsome man, with a fine figure, he had light blond hair and 174 RECOLLECTIONS OF RICHARD WAGNER wore a big beard. He certainly had one of the finest tenor voices I have ever heard—I mean, among the German artists, for I don’t wish to compare him with Mario, Giuglini, and other Italian tenors. I remember first hearing him at the Royal Opera in Berlin, in 1858, when he sang the Prophet in Meyerbeer’s opera most splendidly. The Sieglinde was Fraulein Schefzky, and Briinnhilde was sung by the incomparable Madame Materna. In Siegfried the leading réle was sung by Herr Unger, and in Die Gétterdémmerung Gutrune was Fraulein Weckerlin; Hagen, Herr Scaria; Briinnhilde, Madame Materna; and the Rhein- maidens, Fraulein Lilli and Marie Lehmann (from Berlin) and Fraulein Lammert. Of all the great moments in this music drama I shall never forget the impression the Trauer- marsch made upon me. I had no difficulty in following any of the music, and the various Leitmotifs with which each opera was inter- woven came out perfectly clear to me. The theatre, which was built from designs given by Wagner, was so arranged that one could see quite well from every seat in the stalls. There was no pit, only rows of gradually ascend- ing stalls, and at the end of every few rows there were doors of exit. There was only a small gallery or circle, in the middle of which was placed the royal box, and also several smaller boxes. The gaslights were lowered KING LOUIS OF BAVARIA 175 during each performance—of course, electric light was not then invented. ‘When Wagner appeared, walking across the stalls during the entr’actes, he was cheered to the echo. King Louis of Bavaria attended the four performances, and before the beginning of each opera a fanfare of trumpets was sounded, giving a few bars of a Leitmotif. I remember quite well seeing the King drive up to the theatre. The theatre stands at the top of a hill. The King drove up in a carriage with four horses. The horses were most beautifully caparisoned, the harness being exquisitely deco- rated with silver most artistically wrought. The King, on the carriage drawing up at the centre entrance, which is reserved now for special royalties, jumped hastily from the car- riage, and with a stride or so was within the doors, which shut immediately behind him, as he was anxious not to be seen. At the end of the performance the door opened and the King, with the same hurried stride, practically leaped into the carriage and was drawn at full speed back to the palace in the town. The beautiful harness which he had had made, I believe by Bavarian artists, is still to be seen on the first floor of the magnificent stables in Munich. After the close of the Gotterdémmerung all the lights were suddenly turned up and the whole house rose and cheered the King, who had to bow, very much, I fear, to his own dislike. He 13 176 RECOLLECTIONS OF RICHARD WAGNER was a tall, handsome man, with a fine head covered with thick black hair. I noticed that he looked rather melancholy, and he evidently hated the public notice ; but on this occasion he could not help himself. Wagner did not allow any of the artists to bow their acknowledgments at the end of each act; he allowed it only when the opera was finished (1 think quite rightly too), and it was but natural that when they did appear the audience applauded them enthusiastically. I also remember that, in the intervals between the acts, the principal male singers sat in their cos- tumes outside the stage door, at the back of the theatre, refreshing themselves with Bayrisches Bier (Bavarian beer)—a very curious sight ! The audience also had a chance of refreshing themselves during the intervals, which were very long, lasting one hour. Special restaurants were built in the grounds of the theatre; they were thronged by a hungry and thirsty crowd, and one had great difficulty in being served. Dr. Hans Richter conducted the Trilogy, and he performed a great feat in conducting them without having the score before him, entirely from memory, such a thing having never been done before in the musical world. I have already mentioned that my father conducted the classical operas by heart, but this was child’s play compared with Dr. Richter’s accomplishment of conduct- ing the difficult and complicated music, vocally RECEPTION AT RICHARD WAGNER’S 177 and instrumentally, of the Ring, and in those days it was extraordinary that a work so in- tricate and difficult should be memorised by one man. Dr. Richter, like the members of the orchestra, was in his shirt-sleeves as the heat was so great. "Wagner was the first to conceal the orchestra, by sinking the floor and thus placing them below the stage and stalls, screening them from the audience, whorthus had an uninter- rupted view of the stage. Wilhelm], the great violinist, was the leader, and he told me that Wagner had asked him to alter some of the violin passages—many of which were almost unplayable and extremely difficult—and to make them more playable. As the orchestra was placed underground and not seen by the public, the poor fellows could see nothing of the stage or the artists. Wagner’s idea has now been adopted at the continental theatres and in the various opera-houses in this country, and I suppose also in America and other countries. In consequence of it the various scenes look more like a series of pictures, as nothing inter- venes between stage and audience—it also concentrates the volume of sound more effectu- ally. Many new instruments were used, such as the saxophones, which were specially manu- factured for Wagner’s operas. On the next evening a reception was given by Frau Wagner at “Wahniried,” as Wagner’s 178 RECOLLECTIONS OF RICHARD WAGNER house was called. It was a most interesting soirée. All the principal singers—whom Wagner adopted as his children and addressed as ‘“‘ du ” —were there. They, on their part, venerated and loved him, calling him “ Meister.” A number of foreign visitors from all parts of the world were also present, among whom were the most celebrated composers and instrumentalists. I had the honour of being invited, with Dr. Henry Wylde and my fellow-townsman, Herr Sigismund Lehmeyer, the pianist. An amateur tenor, M. Robsart, from Brussels, was asked to sing Siegmund’s “ Liebeslied,”’ and as neither Richter nor Herr Rubinstein (the usual accompanist of the opera) was present, I had to play the accompaniment, and as the song is extremely difficult, I was perhaps a little timid at being asked to do so in the presence of its great composer. But it went off well, and the singer was greatly applauded. ‘* Wahnfried ”’ is a splendid house, with large reception-rooms on the ground-floor. At the back of the drawing-room there is a large library with many volumes of bound music. Looking through them, I noticed that the only composers omitted from the walls of the great master were Mendelssohn and—I believe—Meyerbeer. I fancy that Wagner did not like Jewish com- posers, especially as these two I have named belonged to rich families, and Wagner was poor and had constantly to fight for his living, and WAGNER AND OFFENBACH 179 was often, as one reads in his Life, obliged to borrow money, until King Louis took him up and helped him to make his fortune and a great name. Mendelssohn, by the way, was not a Jew, though he belonged to a Jewish family. Wagner wrote a brochure called Das Judenthum in der Musik, in which he speaks against Jewish composers, theoretically only, for he had many staunch friends amongst them. It created a great sensation at the time, and_he sent a copy to Offenbach, who, after reading it, wrote to him: “DEAR WAGNER, ‘* You had better stick to music.” Wagner thereupon sent Offenbach a copy of the score of the Meistersinger, and a few days later had the following : ‘* DEAR WAGNER, ‘J think you had better stick to writing books.”’ At Frau Wagner’s reception refreshments were served at several buffets, and I remember that, while I was partaking of some in one of the back rooms with some of my friends from London, Wagner came up to where we stood and said jokingly, ‘“‘ Darf ich nicht auch etwas zu essen bekommen?” (Am I not going to have anything to eat?) We all made room for 180 RECOLLECTIONS OF RICHARD WAGNER him at once, and were highly pleased that he came amongst us. Perhaps the following incidents may interest my readers; they happened during the first three performances of Tannhduser in Paris, the first of which was on March 18th, 1861, now fifty- two years ago. The Emperor Louis Napoleon and the Empress Eugénie were present on the first night, and the opera was received in cold, significant silence. On the second night the audience, from the second act onward, made a great row, fighting among themselves and disturbing the singers. On the third night there was a terrific noise, and no member of the audience could hear a note of the music the whole evening, but the one success of the opera was the appearance of the sporting dogs, which the Emperor had specially lent from the royal kennels.. One of my friends played the part of the page who had to lead the dogs on the stage towards the end of the first act, and he told me recently that the audience cheered them and called them before the curtain, shouting, “‘ Bravo les chiens!” ‘** Bis les chiens! on vous rappelle!’? But the page would not comply with their sarcastic demands. Now all this has been changed, and whenever Wagner’s operas are performed in Paris the house is crowded, and even the Ring has become very popular, Naturally, the operas were splen- MUNICH 181 didly given in Paris and the scenery could not have been surpassed. At the Lamoureux and Colonne orchestral concerts extracts from his operas were constantly given and received with acclamation by an enthusiastic audience. It was at Munich that I first heard Wagner’s Tristan and Isolde, which was then a compara- tively unknown work : I was very much impressed and deeply moved. Herr and Frau Vogl sang the title-réles. I heard them both later at Bayreuth. Musicians came from far and near to hear the performance, which created a great sensation. Munich has always been celebrated for its performances of Wagner’s operas, and has had excellent conductors, such as Von Bilow, Hermann Levi, Richard Strauss, and Mottl. The last time I was there was in 1901, the year of the opening of the Prinz Regenten Theater, the new Festspielhaus, which had been built a little way out of the town in the same style as the theatre at Bayreuth. The performances of Wagner’s operas, which included Tristan and Isolde, Die Meistersinger, Tannhduser, and Lohengrin, were some of the finest I have ever heard. Ternina’s perform- ance as Isolde I had already known and admired in London. She sang with all her wonted beauty of voice and rose to the greatest heights of dramatic intensity. In the Meitstersinger I was particularly struck by the perfection of the en- semble, and the sunken orchestra added greatly 182 RECOLLECTIONS OF RICHARD WAGNER to the unity of the general effect. Gura, the great baritone, made one of his last appearances as Hans Sachs, and was superb. The perform- ance of Lohengrin was remarkable for the fine singing of the choruses, which are always cut in London, so as to alter the whole balance of the opera. Madame Nordica gave a beautiful ren- dering of the part of Elsa. One evening I went to see an excellent per- formance of Mozart’s Cosi fan tutti in the little rococo Residenz Theater, a charming setting for the gay and spontaneous opera. Another feature was the small orchestra and the rapid succession of scenes arranged on the revolving stage. I used to meet some of the artists after the performances at supper: they were all de- lightful companions. CHAPTER X SOME GREAT PERSONALITIES I meet the Abbé Liszt, at Bayreuth and in London—Gounod at Tavistock House—Mrs. Weldon—Roméo et Juliette in Paris—I attend the special performances—An annoying incident—Gounod chez lui—I accompany his son to a con- cert at the Conservatoire—Ambroise Thomas—Léo Delibes —Madame Patti’s Christmas-tree—Two great pianists— Rubinstein—Hans von Biilow—His grimaces while playing— Story of a pupil. WueEn I was introduced to Liszt, who was stay- ing with Wagner, he said he knew my name on account of my uncles in Berlin. He was dressed in the clerical garb of an Abbé, and was a very tall man, but stooped a little and spoke very gently. His long, white, silky hair hung down picturesquely, and he was very affable to me and had most charming manners. I saw him every day whilst I stayed at Bayreuth. Liszt was one of the greatest friends and warmest admirers of Wagner and his operas, and he was the first to bring out Lohengrin—the premiere of which took place at Weimar in the year 1850, with Liszt as conductor. I met Liszt again in London on Saturday, April 3rd, 1886, when he came over to England as the guest of Mr. Henry Littleton, head of the firm of 183 184 SOME GREAT PERSONALITIES Novello & Co. Liszt arrived at Westwood House, Sydenham, very late in the evening and very tired, and was received by a distinguished com- pany of between three and four hundred people who had been specially invited to meet him. He had come over to hear his oratorio, Saint Elizabeth, performed at St. James’s Hall on April 6th under the direction of Sir Alexander Mackenzie. I went to hear the performance, and noticed that Liszt occasionally fell asleep, but woke up at hearing the great applause that came at the end of each important part. I also saw him one Sunday morning at the house of my old friend the late Mr. Beatty Kingston, in St. John’s Wood, where he had been invited to lunch. A song composed by his host’s daughter was sung, and immediately after- wards Liszt sat down at the piano and ex- temporised beautifully on the theme of the song, never having heard it before. A brilliant reception was also given in his honour, arranged by his pupil and friend, the late Mr. Walter Bache, at the Grosvenor Gal- leries in Bond Street, where I had the good fortune to hear Liszt play. He was then seventy-five years old, having been born on October 22nd, 1811, so one could hardly expect that his playing would have been so astonishing. He still had wonderful fire and technique, and one could easily imagine his former greatness, as the first pianist of his day. He may be said [Fst LISZT 185 to have created a new school of pianoforte play- ing, and now his works are constantly being performed at all the recitals given by modern pianists, and his orchestral works, such as his symphonies and symphonic tone-poems, are in the programmes of most of the orchestral concerts in London and the provinces. I have already mentioned that I gave the first per- formance in England of his ‘‘ Divina Commedia ” Symphony at my Orchestral Concerts in 1882. After Liszt’s death I stayed at Weimar and saw the houses where Schiller and Goethe and other great German poets and writers lived. There they have a Liszt Museum of his presents, testimonials and portraits, etc., and his old housekeeper showed me over it. She pointed out a lithograph portrait of Beethoven, and said that Liszt had always spoken of it as being the best likeness of him. Liszt, when a boy of twelve, had played before Beethoven. In 1870, when the Franco-German War broke out, Charles Gounod, like many other Parisians, came over to England to get out of the war. He lived at Tavistock House, with Captain and Mrs. Weldon, where Charles Dickens once resided, near Euston Square. Georgina Weldon used to receive her friends, including a number of distinguished artists, on Sunday afternoons, and on those occasions Gounod used to accom- pany her in some of his newest songs, many of which he had dedicated to her, She had a 186 SOME GREAT PERSONALITIES lovely high soprano voice, and was, in those days, a great beauty. She used to call Gounod ** Papa.” Gounod also sang his own songs, such as ““Maid of Athens,” with perfect charm. He had only a small voice, but he sang exquisitely, every word being distinctly heard, and of course he played his own accompaniments to perfec- tion. I used to go with the ’cellist, M. Paque, to these Sunday Réunions, and accompanied him in a fantasia which he had composed on airs from Gounod’s Faust. It was about this time that Gounod had organised a series of orchestral concerts, con- sisting of his own new works. These concerts, which were most interesting, were given at St. James’s Hall, and he had engaged a fine orchestra. Several new works were performed, such as ‘‘ The Funeral March of a Marionette.” Mr. Edward Lloyd made a successful first ap- pearance as a young English singer at these concerts. I remember complimenting him on his singing after the concerts had finished, and he seemed very pleased at my praise. Gounod always admired English choral sing- ing, and his famous oratorios, The Redemption and Mors et Vita, were both written for Birming- ham Festivals. I .was present at the rehearsal of The Redemption at St. George’s Hall, Lang- ham Place, when Madame Albani, Madame Patey, Edward Lloyd, and Charles Santley were GOUNOD 187 among the singers. Gounod conducted it him- self, most splendidly. When the Franco-German War was over he returned to Paris. The Parisians had been clamouring for his return, and complaining that he had been so long kept away from them. They even twitted him with having become an Eng- lishman, to which he replied, “‘ If I were not a Frenchman, I should like to be an Englishman.” Many years afterwards, in December 1888, I visited him in Paris and renewed my acquaint- ance with him under the following circum- stances. Gounod and the directors of the Paris Grand Opera wished to give some special performances of Roméo et Juliette, and one of the directors, M. Gailhard, came over to England and travelled west to Craig-y-nos Castle to invite Madame Patti to go over to Paris and sing, and she kindly consented to do so. Signor Nicolini invited the late Mr. Augustus Spalding, Mr. Percy Harrison, the late Mr. N. Vert, and myself to go over to Paris and hear the performances. We four, accordingly, travelled over to Paris and stayed at the Hotel Meurice in the Rue de Rivoli. Roméo et Juliette was a brilliant success, and was sung to packed houses. Madame Patti surpassed herself as Juliette, M. Jean de Reszke was Roméo, and M. Edouard de Reszke Friar Lawrence, and the opera was well conducted by M. Taffanel, who used to play the flute in the 188 SOME GREAT PERSONALITIES orchestra—Gounod only conducting the first of the four performances. We had seats in a box in one of the upper tiers that night, and for the next three perform- ances had very good seats in the stalls. The mise-en-scéne was very fine, the choruses excel- lent, likewise the ballet. The Ball Scene, where Juliet faints through the effect of the potion given her by Friar Lawrence in the second act, is always omitted at Covent Garden, but it was given in Paris, and altogether it was a memorable occasion. This was the first time I had seen the New Opera-house, with its grand staircase and superb foyer. The only thing which threw a kind of damper on my enjoyment was that I lost my pocket-book in the crush while trying to get my overcoat at one of the cloak-rooms connected with that part of the stalls where we sat. There were a great many other people trying to get their coats, and I felt a man pressing against me who, I suppose, was the one who stole my little book. Fortunately it contained no money, only my return-ticket to London, and, what I regretted most, a card from Gounod introducing me to Ambroise Thomas, in which he was kind enough to call me his confrére. I advertised and offered a reward, but nothing came of it. On the Saturday morning following I called on Gounod at his house in the Boulevard Malesherbes and found him at home, sitting in CHARLES GOUNOD. 188] VISIT TO GOUNOD 189 his study on the first floor, dressed still in négligé and wearing his velvet cap. He re- ceived me most kindly, and, as Mr. Vert was waiting in the carriage outside, I asked M. Gounod whether I might bring him up and introduce him, and he at once said ‘‘ Yes,” and greeted Vert most affably. He talked a great deal about music in England, and said he re- gretted the cause which prevented him from coming over to England again and conducting some orchestral concerts of his own works, which he would have dearly loved to have done. This cause was a lawsuit, which he had lost in London and had been condemned to pay a heavy fine, and had he returned to England he would have had to settle it. I asked him to write something in my auto- graph album, which he did, and I begged him to give me a piano-score of Roméo et Juliette signed with his name. He went to look in his library and returned, saying: ‘“‘ I am very sorry, but I have not a single copy left. People come - to visit me, and take away all the piano-scores of my operas from my shelves.” In looking over my album he noticed the title and also a phrase of one of his own arias, ‘‘ She alone charmeth my sadness,” from his opera, La Reine de Saba. I told him that Signor Foli had made it very popular in England, but, strangely enough, he did not seem to recollect the song at all! 190 SOME GREAT PERSONALITIES Gounod asked me if I would like to go to the Conservatoire Concert next morning, and of course I said ‘‘ Yes”: he then offered to fetch me from my hotel and take me there with him. Unfortunately, he was taken ill, so could not go, and his son came in his stead and we went together to the concert, which took place in the Salle du Conservatoire. It was con- ducted by M. Taffanel, and was a wonderful performance. The orchestra is celebrated all over Europe, and I must say I never heard a finer performance of Beethoven’s Erotica. It was a revelation to me, and ‘‘ The Funeral March” affected me to tears. Choruses from Gluck’s Armida and Iphigenia in Aulis were also given. In the afternoon I attended a reception given by the director of the Conservatoire, M. Am- broise Thomas, in his rooms at the Conservatoire, and renewed acquaintance with Madame Thomas, who had known me in London when she came over with her sister, Madame Montigny-Rémaury, the celebrated pianist, who had played several times at my orchestral concerts, and both sisters had visited my house.. A great many artists, principally French, and other distinguished per- sons were present at the reception. Ambroise Thomas was very tall, and had a commanding presence; he was most sympathetic, and made everybody feel at home. During the siege of Paris, Ambroise Thomas DELIBES 191 was much troubled about the fate of his villa at Argenteuil, and as soon as he could leave Paris he hastened there. To his surprise, amidst the surrounding ruins of the place, he found his villa ‘‘ Elsinore,” with its garden, un- touched. On opening the door of his house, he found the explanation. A visiting-card was lying there bearing the name ‘“ Lieutenant » and underneath in pencil was written, “* nephew of Meyerbeer.” Later in the evening I visited Monsieur Léo Delibes in his rooms at the Rue de Rivoli. I found him at home and told him that Madame Patti had sung his “ Bell Song” from Lakmé at the Albert Hall, under my direction, with immense success ; in fact, she had to repeat the last quick movement. I asked him to put his autograph on my orchestral score of this song, which I had brought with me, which he did, and we had a most interesting chat. He died soon afterwards, on January 16th, 1891, when only fifty-four years old, and by his death the musical world lost a genius who could ill be spared. His grand Opera Ballets, Sylvia and Coppélia, alone will never let his name be forgot- ten, to say nothing of his many charming songs. Madame Patti invited me to remain as her guest over Christmas, saying that she would have a Christmas-tree in her apartments in the H6tel Meurice; but I could not accept her invitation, as I knew my wife and children would 14 192 SOME GREAT PERSONALITIES be disappointed if I were away on such a family festival; so I thanked Madame Patti and her husband for the great treat I had had in hear- ing the festival performances of Roméo et Juliette, and we said “ good-bye ’”’ for the time being. The greatest pianist I have ever heard was Anton Rubinstein. He was a veritable giant in his playing. He used to come over from Russia in the summer, and I heard him at John Ella’s Musical Union Concerts. He was a man of extreme artistic sensitiveness, and very moody, and was noted for his playing of rapid and spirited movements. I also heard his opera 11 Demonio, which was performed here by a Russian company and made a great impression. In 1881 he gave a series of historical recitals in chronological order at St. James’s Hall, and gave me two tickets for each concert. Seats were a guinea each, an unheard-of price in those days, and after each concert he used to invite his friends to a reception at the Hétel Dieudonné in Ryder Street, to which I also received an invitation. Rubinstein had a fine head, and people thought him like Beethoven. One evening I was invited by Carl Rosa to dine, to meet him and his agent, Mr. Wolff. ‘We played whist afterwards, but not for money. Rubinstein was very fond of gambling, and lost lots of money at the roulette- table at Baden-Baden and other watering- VON BULOW 193 places. Sometimes he lost so much that the Russian Grand Duchess Héléne had to send him his travelling expenses so that he could get back to Russia. He was, all the same, a very generous man and never minded what he gave away. A young girl I know was once taken to see Rubinstein, and he asked her to sing to him: she chose his ‘‘ Du bist wie eine Blume.”” When she had finished his comment was, ‘‘ Too much Belgrave Square!” He put his hand on her heart and said, ‘‘ Any Army or Navy there?” It was a long time before the great pianist, Hans von Bilow, was properly appreciated in London, for people, instead of listening to his playing, only seemed to notice his mannerisms. He was, as a fact, very short-sighted, and when he played he took off his spectacles and moved his head about rather grotesquely ; but this was not affectation, it came naturally to him. He was always entranced in the music, and really could not see his audience at all without spec- tacles; but his gestures and apparent grimaces used to amuse them. I call to mind one day meeting Arthur Chappell in Bond Street, when he asked my opinion about Biilow, which I gave him, lauding the pianist up to the skies ; but Chappell did not agree with me. Bitilow had only been a short time in England then, and I fancy Arthur Chappell changed his mind, for he engaged him to play at his popular concerts, 194 SOME GREAT PERSONALITIES Bilow, apart from being such a great player and musician, was also a distinguished literary man, and wrote pamphlets on musical subjects. He was a clever composer as well, and a first-rate orchestral conductor, of which he gave proof when he was Kapellmeister at Munich and con- ducted Wagner’s operas there. He also con- ducted orchestral concerts here, and used to give piano recitals at St. James’s Hall, at one of Vrecieemt MA = reat Jot Wigs pg ; : OO poo ple CHS Pochas 29 fs “an ws ty which he performed the last four Sonatas of Beethoven, which, as everybody knows, are immensely difficult; but he played them so clearly, especially the fugues, that it was a great treat to listen to him. You never heard a wrong note, and what I particularly admired was the feat of playing these difficult works by heart. At the present day all the great pianists do the same thing, and nobody thinks it at all extra- ordinary ; but in those days it was a tour de force. VON BULOW 195 As everybody who takes an interest in mu- sicians knows, Frau Cosima Wagner was the wife of Biilow before she married Wagner, and the daughter of Franz Liszt. Bilow was a little man, thin and wiry, and full of wit and sarcasm. He was very sensitive about his slight build, and on one occasion, when he was conducting a concert at Berlin, he wrote and asked my uncle the Conzertmeister whether he couldn’t come to his aid, saying: ‘* Muss ich, bei meiner anti-Murphy Statur, Madame Clara Novello vorfiihren? Oder wird sich nicht ein besserer Cavalier zu dieser Re- prasentation auftreiben lassen?’ (Must I, with my anti-Murphy stature, lead on Madame Clara Novello, or cannot a better cavalier be raked up ?) Murphy was a well-known Irish giant of the period. A young English pupil of Biilow’s told me a characteristic story of him. Biilow always impressed upon him the importance of the serious study of musical form and structure. Happen- ing to come into the room one day, he heard his pupil playing Mendelssohn’s Lieder ohne Worte. Biilow remarked, “‘ Mendelssohn! Das ist eine Krankheit fiir die Jugend!” (which might be liberally translated : ‘‘ Mendelssohn! A malady, like measles, to be got over in youth!”) No one, except perhaps Liszt, worked harder for Wagner’s fame—in which he certainly succeeded. CHAPTER XI MADAME ADELINA PATTI Her wonderful career—Enthusiasm at Swansea— A Royal Progress ”’—Annual charity concerts at Swansea, Brecon, and Neath—Life at Craig-y-nos—A kind chatelaine—Her Bijou Theatre—The Albert Hall concerts—How Patti practised— Her marriage with Baron Cederstré6m—Sir George Faudel- Phillips’s joke—Patti’s many escapes from death—Her wonderful sang-froid—Her dresses and jewellery—Some musical amateurs I have known. I HAVE already mentioned that Madame Adelina Patti sang at my concert at St. James’s Hall in 1870 (see page 86). I cannot refrain from say- ing a few words about this charming lady, who has been my staunch and valued friend for forty-three years, since I first met her in 1870. Everybody knows her wonderful career, which began in 1850, when she was only seven years old, and appeared at Tripler’s Hall, New York. She then sang ‘Casta Diva” from Norma, Eckert’s ‘‘ Echo Song,” and ‘‘Home, Sweet Home,” evoking the greatest enthusiasm. Her first appearance on the operatic stage took place when she was not yet seventeen years of age, at the Academy of Music, New York, in 1859, when she sang the title-réle in Donizetti’s opera 196 ie ee ADELINA PATTI, IN ‘‘LA TRAVIATA,” 1859. 196] PATTY’S DEBUT 197 Lucia di Lammermoor, and carried everything before her. She came to London with her father, and on May 14th, 1861, she made her début at Covent Garden in Bellini’s opera La Sonnambula, when her success was phenomenal, and from that day she became the reigning favourite at the Opera, where she sang, for twenty-five consecutive years, twice a week. She told me herself that she had a répertoire of thirty-nine operas, and knew them by heart, the text and all the changes, with the various embellishments and cadenzas. Her memory is prodigious; no other singer in the world can show such a wonder- ful record. Her teacher was her half-brother, Ettore Barili. She first invited me to her beautiful castle in South Wales, called Craig-y-nos (the Black Mountain or Mountain of the Night), to assist at a charity concert, which she gave for the Swansea Hospital in the eighties. The distance from her home was about twenty miles by rail, and all along the embankments crowds of miners stood with their wives and children, watching the train go by, and cheering her and waving their caps and handkerchiefs as she passed along. On her arrival at Swansea she was re- ceived by the Mayor and some members of the corporation, and a company of the local volun- teers with their bands playing. She drove in an open carriage with her husband, and other 198 MADAME ADELINA PATTI carriages followed with the rest of the artists and her friends staying at the castle, through the streets to the Albert Hall. The ships. in the harbour were decked with flags, and on each side of the way, bunting with such mottoes as ‘‘ God bless the Queen of Song,” ‘‘ Welcome,” ** Long live Adelina Patti,’’ etc., decorated the route. From the house windows the inhabitants cheered, and likewise the crowds of people in the streets. The Albert Hall at Swansea was crowded to suffocation. She sang several of her favourite songs, and ended with the ever-popular ‘“‘ Home, Sweet Home,” which made many of the audi- ence shed tears. Numerous floral offerings which consisted of the choicest flowers were handed to her on the platform. At the end of the concert the Member of Parliament for Swansea made an eloquent speech, in which he thanked her for her generosity and kindness in coming so far to help the hospital. A suitable reply was made for her by a friend. Our return to the railway station was again a scene of enthusiasm and deafening cheering, her castle being reached in time for dinner, and the Diva was happy in having done such good work for the suffering poor. These concerts took place every year in rota- tion, viz. at Swansea, at Brecon, and at the Gwyn Hall, Neath, with the same result, and at each she was received by the Mayor and local CRAIG-Y-NOS 199 authorities. At these annual concerts the Diva was assisted by distinguished artists, who also gave their services, and I had the honour of being the conductor at them all. At the con- clusion of our stay Madame Patti always pre- sented handsome gifts of jewellery to all the artists as a souvenir of the occasion. Craig-y-nos Castle occupies a beautiful position, three hundred feet above the level of the River Tawe; it stands in a lovely valley sur- rounded by high mountains. The reception- rooms are large and beautifully furnished. In the billiard-room there is a big orchestrion, which has a répertoire of all the popular operas, a large number being those of Wagner. Madame Patti generally joins in these airs, singing them while they are being played. She told me that Wagner asked her repeatedly to sing the soprano parts in Lohengrin and Tannhduser, but she always declined his request. She would have made a splendid Elsa, but she was afraid that Wagner’s operas might hurt her voice, particu- larly in the dramatic parts. The orchestrion is generally wound up to play after dinner, to the delight of the Diva’s guests. There is a large Winter Garden with an electric fountain, which is lit up in various colours, and makes the coup dil a fairy place. The gardens are large, with a great number of hot-houses. There are two artificial lakes filled with fish, and wild-duck fly about everywhere. 200 MADAME ADELINA PATTI Many years ago, when Madame Patti was looking out for a place to purchase, she was advised to consider the claims of a castle and estate near Turin called Casa di Val di Casotto. One of the attractions which it possessed was that the purchaser would be entitled to assume a title connected with the place. ‘‘ When I was told I could call myself Duchessa di Val di Casotto,” said Patti, ‘I replied that I preferred Risotio |” I have always found it a real pleasure to be her guest, for as a hostess she entertains her friends in the most charming and hospitable manner. Madame Patti has an enormous corre- spondence, having friends all over the world, and this generally occupies her time the greater part of the morning. In the afternoon she, with her husband and guests, takes long drives, and it is a sight to see how the villagers turn out of their cottages with their little children to salute and bow to her as she passes along. In the winter time she provides the poor of the neighbourhood with coals and blankets, and gives them winter clothes. Her accomplish- ments do not end with her beautiful singing ; she plays the piano perfectly, as well as the harmonium, the guitar, the mandoline, and the zither. She speaks and writes Italian, Spanish, Russian, Portuguese, German, French, and Eng- lish perfectly. She does the finest embroidery, and has painted some charming little sketches CRAIG-Y-NOS 201 in water-colour. She is a courageous horse- woman, and drives splendidly, and delights in playing croquet. She has had a pretty little bijou theatre built in the castle, which seats over three hundred persons, and where she often performs little plays and pantomimes. On one occasion she asked me to arrange a performance of La Traviata, as her husband, Baron Rolf Cederstrém, had never seen her on the stage. I had engaged some singers from London, and a small orchestra from Swansea, which I conducted. It was a memor- able performance, and I never heard her sing better, nor with more pathos, than in the last act, in the dying scene, when everybody was moved to tears and felt as if, in the death of Violetta, they had lost a personal friend. The audience consisted of her friends staying at the castle, and the rest of the stalls were filled with the families of her neighbours, while the little gallery contained her personal attendants and tenants. Of course the applause of the audience was most enthusiastic. A performance of Grand Opera in a private house, under such circumstances, was most interesting. For many years Madame Patti was engaged by Mr. Percy Harrison of Birmingham, for con- cert tours in England, Scotland, Ireland, and Wales, in which I acted as conductor. The concert-halls were crowded to excess, and the enthusiasm of the audience was so great that 202 MADAME ADELINA PATTI she was obliged to accept encores to all her songs. The concerts at the Albert Hall given by the late Wilhelm Kuhe, the late N. Vert, and afterwards by Percy Harrison, must be remem- bered by all who had the good fortune to be present on these occasions, at which I both con- ducted the orchestra and accompanied on the pianoforte. Madame Patti has always found her audiences insatiable in the matter of encores; and while she has never been unwilling to comply with the fair requests of her enthusiastic admirers, she found that, after all, there must be some limit set to them. Of late years she found a subtle way of indicating to the house that they should not ask for more. After ‘‘ Home, Sweet Home,”’’ or “‘Coming thro’ the Rye,”’ she would retire, and then, in response to continued applause, return to the platform with a scarf on her shoulders, thus making it clear that it was really ** good-night.”’ I have already mentioned Madame Patti sing- ing to Her late Majesty, Queen Victoria, at Windsor Castle. Later I referred to the wonderful concert given by the Marchioness of Lansdowne at Covent Garden on February 22nd, 1900, in aid of the officers’ widows and families, in con- nection with the South African War. It may be interesting for students of the vocal art to know that Madame Patti, at the beginning of her career, practised the fugues of Bach, which HOW PATTI PRACTISED 208 are not only very difficult to play, but even more so to sing, as she herself told me, and also the ‘ Rondo Capriccioso ”’ of Mendelssohn. Her voice is a soprano of the purest quality; her roulades come out of her mouth like pearls, and her shake is exquisite and the finest I have ever heard.’ The practice of introducing new cadenzas and making alterations in the music without the composer’s approval has always been disapproved of by Madame Adelina Patti. She has told me that Rossini strongly objected to the liberties which singers used to take with his music, and that when M. Maurice Strakosch, her brother- in-law and teacher, introduced certain staccato notes into an aria, Rossini remarked, ‘‘ Ce sont des Strakoschonneries ! ” The very brilliant cadenzas to “ Bel Raggio,” which Madame Patti used to sing, were specially composed and written out for her by Rossini himself. He had a great admiration for her singing, and asked to come and hear her practis- ing her solfeggi, and would not listen to her objections. He would come upstairs in the hotel where they were staying and stand out- side the door of the room while she was practising. I attribute the miraculous manner in which Madame Patti has kept her voice to the way in which she has spent her life in actually living for her art, to a degree never exercised by any 204 MADAME ADELINA PATTI other singer. She can actually count on her fingers the times she has disappointed in her singing career. In her desire to keep faith with the public and not to fail in her appearances through any cause avoidable by herself, she was most careful in her diet, never overtired herself, keeping early and regular hours; after singing she would only take a light supper. So con- scientious was she before her engagements that I know of many pleasures she has voluntarily given up. Now that she has retired she is able to enjoy visits to Bayreuth or Munich, where she constantly goes to the festivals, or to Paris, where she has so many old friends, including M. Jean de Reszke and his wife, and when staying in London she is a great theatre-goer. It will not be out of place if I mention that her marriage with Baron Rolf Cederstrém took place at Brecon in January 1899, and after the ceremony a special train took the bride and bridegroom, with their guests, including my wife and my daughters, Georgina and Adelina, and myself, and many friends and relations, to London. The wedding breakfast was served in the train, and Sir George Faudel-Phillips pro- posed the health of the bride and bridegroom in felicitous terms, and jokingly said that he had made speeches before in curious places, but he “had never before made one in a tunnel,”’ as we were passing through the Severn Tunnel at that moment, NARROW ESCAPES 205 Madame Patti has had several narrow escapes from death. On one occasion, when she was about sixteen years of age, she was singing the Mad Scene in Lucia, when the sleeve of her dress, which was very long and of some light, flimsy material, caught fire in the footlights. Tearing it off with her hand, she extinguished the flames, only stopping singing for a few moments, and then caught up the flute obbligato exactly where she left off. There were thunders of applause at her plucky action. Another time, in America, when she was singing in opera, an assassin threw a bomb at a man in the stage box. Madame Patti had taken several calls from the right- hand side of the stage, and was going to appear again to bow from that side, when something seemed to tell her to go to the left-hand side instead. It was well she did so, for just then the anarchist threw his bomb, which missed the stage box and fell on the stage at the exact spot where she had just been standing. Fortunately it did not explode. On another occasion, when she was a young girl, a messenger left a pair of gloves at her house, with a note asking her to accept. them, as the sender wished to call them the “ Patti gloves.” Her father looked at them and thought they had a suspicious appearance and smell, so he took them to a chemist, who analysed them and found they had been steeped in a most deadly poison, 206 MADAME ADELINA PATTI Once, when Madame Patti returned to the artists’ room after singing, she helped herself to a glass of water from the carafe provided for her ; but the moment she tasted it she found it had such a strange flavour that she would not drink it. It was afterwards discovered that a box of matches had evidently been soaked in the water to poison her, for it was found to be full of brimstone. Even at an early age she was entirely fear- less. When a little girl she toured in Porto Rico with her father, riding on a white horse, and met with all sorts of adventures. She never seemed to know what danger meant. When she was only ten years old she was singing at a place called St. Thomas, in America, when an earthquake took place, and the building in which the concert was held began to rock ominously. Of course everybody proceeded to rush away, but little Adelina called out from the platform: ‘‘ Why do you all run away? I am not running away,” and started singing an extra “‘ Home, Sweet Home,” which prevented a panic. She did a similar thing when an overcrowded gallery threatened to give way and the people were terrified by the sinister cracking of the boards. Once when Madame Patti was singing in Traviata, during the duet “‘ Parigi o Cara’”’ the tenor, by mistake, began to sing the soprano part. Quite undaunted, Patti immediately rose to the A CHARMING INCIDENT 207 occasion, and dropped into his part quite natur- ally. ‘‘ When he was kind enough to let me,” she says, in telling the story, “I took my own part back again.’? Nobody noticed the mistake, and the tenor afterwards thanked Patti, with tears in his eyes, for saving the situation. When Patti was on a concert tour up the Mississippi River, she used to leave the boat, sing at some concert-hall, and then continue the journey. On one occasion she got out at a place called Baton Rouge, but, not feeling well enough to sing, was obliged to disappoint the audience by not appearing. While she was resting in the hotel she heard a child crying bitterly in one of the rooms, and, in her kindly and impulsive way, went to see what was the matter. She found a little girl sobbing because ‘““mother had gone to hear the great Patti sing and she was left behind.” Patti soon cheered her by singing ‘“‘ Home, Sweet Home,” and ‘‘ Kathleen Mavourneen,’? and when the mother came back, very disappointed, from the concert, the child exclaimed, ‘“ I’ve heard her! ve heard her!” “What do you mean?” said the mother, and her feelings can be imagined when she learned what she had missed. As an instance of Patti’s interest in the opinion of the humblest of her hearers I may mention that once, when a mutual friend of ours was 15 208 MADAME ADELINA PATTI coming out of the Albert Hall after a concert with Madame Patti, she said to her: ‘‘ I have just heard a policeman going into raptures about your singing!” ‘‘ What did he say?” said Patti, intensely pleased, ‘“‘I do want to know what he said.” It was characteristic of her that, with the plaudits of the whole Albert Hall audience still ringing in her ears, she was eager to hear what a policeman on duty there had thought about her voice. I have not said half enough in praise of Madame Patti, but words fail me to give expres- sion to the admiration I have for her as a friend, artiste, and woman. She has given pleasure to more people all over the world than any other living singer, and it is to be regretted that, being still in full possession of her powers, she has given up her public career; but, after all these many years of arduous work,’ singing in operas and concerts, and travelling thousands of miles nearly all over the world, she deserves her well-earned rest. In former years, when she was still active in her profession, she never had an opportunity of visiting various cities (where she was not sing- ing), visiting theatres, museums, and other places of entertainment, or artistic instruction, because she never had any time to give to these sights. She was always so devoted to her pro- fession. Her husband, however, is himself a great admirer of art, and encourages his wife to PATTY’S KINDNESS 209 visit the fine museums, and they generally spend a few months every winter in Rome. She did not formerly accept any invitations to dinners or receptions, as she was afraid of catching cold, and of disappointing not only the public, but also her managers. She is the soul of punctuality, always arriving in ample time for her engagements. The method and order observed in her castle are very charac- teristic of her. She is very fond of animals, and cannot bear to see them in pain. Often when driving along the country roads she will stop to see why a lamb is bleating or a dog whining. Once, when a thrush knocked against her window and fell stunned she went out to pick it up, nursed and revived it and then let it go. She is adored by her servants, Welsh, Eng- lish, German, and Italian, and her sympathetic kindness to her old retainers is the admiration of every one. When staying at her house it was a sight to see her coming down to dinner dressed mag- nificently. She varied her jewellery according to the dress she wore—diamonds and rubies, pearls and emeralds. Her toilettes are elegant, and never over-elaborate. I have mentioned these particulars as I thought they would in- terest my lady readers, and I may add that the Baroness Cederstr6m has been kind enough to work a waistcoat for me. 210 MADAME ADELINA PATTI Shortly after one of Patti’s concerts, at which I conducted the orchestra, Puck had an excel- lent cartoon with the following verses : “QPORTET PATI” OR “WE ALL want Parti!” *Tis said that Hector Berlioz once wrought A novel version of an ancient adage, And clothed in words expressing modern thought One of the grimmest notions of a sad age. “ Oportet pati’? was the monkish text He dealt with, saying, “‘ It is meet to suffer” ‘Was its translation by some dull, unsexed, Monastic, gloomy, superstitious duffer. Next came a cheerfuller interpretation Ingeniously excogitated by A French gourmet of world-wide reputation, Who vowed the axiom meant ‘“‘ Bring up the Pie!” The rendering by Berlioz devised, Was the most graceful, sympathetic, natty ; He gave it thus: “‘ Correctly modernised, ‘Oportet pati’ means ‘ We all want Patti.’ ” Our version of the Latin saw shall be The same as that of France’s great musician ; ‘We all want Patti.” Ever fain are we To court the song-spells of that sweet magician. See! Puck has drawn her nestling in a pie— A mimic paté, pasty architectural ; The Nightingale is just about to fly, No longer her departure is conjectural. She leaves her island home and friends to reap A golden harvest on a foreign shore ; Heaven guide her safely o’er the storm-toss’d deep ! Good luck, dear Queen of Song, and ‘“ Au revoir.’’ [ors ee JOU ,,—"9}Sk} IM 07 skeaye .,apjud ,, v du su paystp svy (svotdsnve Aasopo SUosVH “ATT JEpuN) zuUBy) "ITT ‘(q~Vd) ILLVd GNVA TIV IM UO ,“ILVd LALMOdO ,, “e SOME MUSICAL AMATEURS 211 The late Duke of Edinburgh, throughout his life, retained his love for the violin, and when he founded the Royal Amateur Orchestral Society he himself led the orchestra. The early meetings of the Society were held in private at Metzler’s, in Great Marlborough Street, and there was no audience. I joined as a violinist, and I re- member one occasion when the Prince of ‘Wales was present. In conversation with me he asked if I knew the Duke of Edinburgh, and, when I replied that I had not that honour, he took me by the arm up to the Duke and introduced me. I have known many charming lady amateurs in my time, all skilled in the art of music. Lady Augustus Hervey used to sing duets with Lord Dudley, and Lady Rumbold is an admirable ex- ponent of the bel canto. Lady Arthur Hill has written many favourite songs, such as ‘In the Gloaming,”’ and made a melodious setting of the hymn “O perfect Love,” which was sung at her daughter’s wedding. Mrs. Arkwright sings cleverly to her own guitar accompaniments, and Lady Parkyns, a true musician, has composed some beautiful lyrics. Lady Folkestone once arranged a performance of Romberg’s Toy Symphony, and invited all the best-known musicians of the day to take part. It was given at a charity concert on May 14th, 1880. We all chose instruments we had not played before. Charles Santley played the violin and I the viola. Benedict took the bells, and 212 SOME MUSICAL AMATEURS Arthur Sullivan amused us all with his imitation of the cuckoo. Henry Leslie wielded the baton with great skill. While I am speaking of musical amateurs, I must not omit to refer to my friend the late Mr. John Woodford. He was the son of Field- Marshal Sir Alexander Woodford, Governor of Chelsea Hospital, and was for forty years in the Foreign Office. He never failed to be at the Opera when Mario was singing, and he imitated his style to perfection. His pronunciation of Italian could not have been surpassed. He was a great favourite in society, not his least attraction being his good looks. He used to help me when I had my Amateur Vocal Reunions in 1858, and we continued our friendship until he died. Since then I have kept up the friend- ship with his charming widow and daughter. Another great friend of mine, an amateur tenor, was the late Mr. George Gumbleton, familiarly known as ‘“‘ Gumby.” He sang Irish national songs to perfection, accompanying him- self faultlessly on the piano. He could con- verse in four different languages. It was a pleasure to listen to him in songs of Schubert and Schumann, which of course he sang in the original German. Apart from ‘‘ Salve Dimora ”’ in Faust (in Italian) he also excelled in Gounod’s songs, such as, ‘“‘Ce que je suis sans toi,” ‘““ Medjé,” and “‘ Quand tu chantes.” He was very clever in his profession as a AN OLD OPERA-GOER 213 barrister, and a very versatile man. I remem- ber his writing some Greek verses on the present German Emperor. I was put in rather an awkward predicament by a present he made me at the time of my Orchestral Concerts. It was a black ebony silver-mounted conducting-stick, a beautiful thing in itself, but quite unpractical. I always used a white stick, so that the orchestra could see my beat. In order not to offend him I took both sticks with me to my desk at the next concert and used his for a piece where I thought I could safely take the risk. The late Mr. Augustus Spalding was a notable figure at the Opera, and for very many years could always be seen sitting in his corner seat in the stalls close to the stairs leading to the exit by the orchestra. A confirmed admirer of the old school of Italian Opera, it was only by slow degrees that he became accustomed to and learned to appreciate the beauties of Wagner’s operas. I remember his telling me that his special abhorrence was the beginning of the second act of Lohengrin. The magnificent music of Ortrud and Telra- mund, so interesting as the forerunner of Wagner’s later style, had no charms for him. He used to explain how convenient it was for him to slip out at his usual dinner-hour and return to the Opera-house when the dawn breaks in the middle of the second act! CHAPTER XII PARTIES AND POLITICIANS My first guinea— Lord Cardigan—The Balaclava Charge—Music at Lady Rothschild’s—Private concerts at Mr. Alfred de Rothschild’s—The Prince of Wales and other guests— Madame Patti and a fee of £1,000—M. Jacoby—Mr. Charrington’s private concert—Story of three prima donnas —Baroness de Reuter’s receptions—Music at Lord and Lady Randolph Churchill’s—Mentmore—I meet Disraeli—A re- collection of the Rt. Hon. W. E. Gladstone—Tring Park— Sir Alexander Cockburn. I wad already begun playing at private parties when I was fifteen, and used to get a fee of half a guinea. The next year I earned my first guinea under rather curious circumstances, which I described in my diary at the time: ** Saturday.—To-day Miss Messent sent for me, and said that she was to sing to the Duchess of Somerset, and would I oblige her by playing her accompaniments. If she pleased the Duchess, she was to sing at her party that evening, and I was to go too. As we had to be there at 4 o’clock, I went home quickly, flung on my ‘gala,’ and drove with Miss Messent to the Duchess of Somerset’s, 1, Park Lane, Hyde Park. The Duchess had asked this morning at Mitchell’s Library for a singer, and he had suggested Miss Messent, and that is how it happened, We 314 MY FIRST GUINEA 215 pulled up at the ‘ palace,’ and a liveried servant with powdered hair opened the door. We went. through a splendid hall to the first floor to await the Duchess. The room, or rather ‘ salon,’ where I now found myself was more beautiful and splendid than any I had yet seen. The carpets, mirrors, and furniture were all very fine. Suddenly the door opened, and a stout, elderly lady came in, and we bowed deeply, for we thought it was the Duchess, as it really was. She asked Miss Messent some questions, and what her fee was for a soirée, and finally asked about me. Miss Messent sang something and I accompanied her. After this I was asked by Her Grace (the title for the Duchess) to play a pianoforte solo, and I played a short piece. To her inquiry as to what I asked for the evening I said, quite un- abashed, ‘A guinea!’ She smiled, for she considered it very cheap. To Miss Messent she said that, for this evening, it would not be, pos- sible for her to sing, as chiefly Ambassadors were coming, and they would talk so much about politics that they would not listen to singing. So that I was to come and play some little solos, and be there at 10 o’clock that evening. I was very pleased to play for such a high personage, as I had not expected it. I drove back again with Miss Messent, who probably was very much annoyed that I had cut her out... . This evening I flung myself into my ‘best state’ (clothes) and drove up to the house in a cab. In the entrance-hall were some five servants, and everything was lit up. I was then shown into a side-room by a servant in black clothes, and there I had tea. At 10 o’clock I was announced to the Duchess. I was, however, im- mediately told that I could not play at present, as the French Ambassador had suddenly been 216 PARTIES AND POLITICIANS taken ill—I was to wait. The servants said, in fun, that the Ambassador had dined too well. The wife of the late Duke of Sussex (an English Prince) was there, also the Russian, Turkish, Danish Ambassadors, and also many lords and ladies and others whom I did not know. The Duchess was covered with diamonds, and told me herself that I could not play yet. I also saw her husband, who was simply in evening dress with a star. After waiting for two hours, a servant came to me and said that he had been requested to give me a guinea, and that it was not neces- sary for me to play to-day, and I could go home; the Duchess would engage me another time. He paid me the guinea (12 florins) for nothing, and also 2s. for the cab, and I went home doubly pleased. It was the first guinea that I had earned, and I went to bed with a happy heart and soon fell asleep.” In January 1857 I was engaged to go down for the night to play at Deene Park, the North- amptonshire seat of Lord Cardigan, the hero of Balaclava. In the fine oak-panelled hall with rich carvings I saw the diplomas presented to him on his return from the Crimea, and a large oil-painting of the famous charge. There was music in the evening in the hall. Verdi’s new operas were much en vogue, and Lord Cardigan asked me to play something from Rigoletto. A handsome, tall man, he wore court dress with black silk stockings, and I noticed he had on his orders and stars. He spoke to me in French, and was particularly affable. He asked me to stay on for a week, and send to LORD CARDIGAN 217 London for my things. Unfortunately, I could only stop two days, as I had to be back in town. While we were talking, the Earl of Westmor- land came up and spoke to me. Lord Cardigan said, ‘‘ Ah, vous connaissez Monsieur Ganz ? ”’ “Mais oui, et ses parents. Ses oncles étaient mes premiers violon et violoncelle a Berlin.” Lord Westmorland, who had been English Minister in Berlin, was one of the most distin- guished musical amateurs of the time. He composed operas and cantatas, and founded our Royal Academy of Music. His grand-daughter, the present Lady Londesborough, was a pupil of mine. As he was going away Lord ‘Westmorland said, ‘‘ I live only five miles from here, and would be very happy to see you if you will come over.” There were many distinguished guests there, including Count Pourtalés, Lord and Lady Ernest Bruce, the Earl and Countess of Jersey and their daughter, the beautiful Lady Clemen- tina Villiers. The day after we had music in the afternoon, andI played to Lady Clementina, and she played some Chopin Valses and other pieces to me very beautifully. Mrs. Dudley Ward, a pupil of mine (afterwards Mme de Falbe), sang the same evening. While the party were out hunting, I went over the beautiful garden and visited the splendid stables. I was there shown the actual charger which Lord Cardigan rode when he led the Charge of the Light Brigade at Balaclava. As I had to 218 PARTIES AND POLITICIANS leave, I suggested to Lord Cardigan sending some one to take my place. He said, “Cela ne vaut pas la peine: ce n’est pas comme vous.” I heard that an artist who had been there before me had given offence by playing something other than sacred music on a Sunday, and Lord Cardigan did not ask him again. I remember, many years ago, attending a musical party given by the late Baroness Lionel de Rothschild, mother of Lord Rothschild, at her country house in Gunnersbury Park, near Kew. I accompanied a young Italian singer, Mlle Finoli, and played some piano pieces, one of which was a fantasia on airs from La Tra- viata, which I had arranged and wished to dedicate to the Duchesse d’Aumale, who was present. I had written to her a day or two previously about it. When I had played it she sent word to me that she would be very pleased to accept the dedication, and when I went to Orleans House, later on, she presented me, as a recognition of it, with a set of coral studs set in diamonds. Another French royal lady, the Duchesse d’Orléans, was also present at the party, and among the guests were Cardinal Wiseman, in his full ecclesiastical dress, also the Bishop of Oxford (Bishop Wilberforce), and Lord Clarendon, the then Minister of Foreign Affairs. It seemed strange, at that time, that at the house of the Rothschilds the representa- tives of many religions should have been present, AT THE RUSSIAN EMBASSY 219 This was as it should be, in my humble opinion, as it showed that religious susceptibilities were wearing off, and that the representatives of all creeds could meet amicably together. I was once asked by Herr Leopold Auer to accompany him at a soirée given by Count Schouvaloff, the Russian Ambassador, at the Russian Embassy, in Chesham Place. When he and I walked in, the Princess of Wales, after- wards Queen Alexandra, was sitting at the piano, accompanying Madame Christine Nilsson. Her Royal Highness got up at once from the piano when she saw us enter, not without my having noticed her beautiful touch. Then the men guests came in from the dining-room, among them being our late King Edward and the young Prince Louis Napoleon, who met with such a tragic end in the Zulu War. When the concert was over, a Hungarian band played, and after twelve o’clock dancing began in one of the salons and was kept up with great spirit. I noticed that Prince Napoleon danced with one of my pupils, Lady Augusta Rous, daughter of the Countess of Stradbroke. I used also to arrange the musical parties given by Baron Ferdinand de Rothschild, at which the Duchess of Edinburgh and the Duke of Cambridge were often present. I remember being rather amused, on one occasion, to see, on entering the house, Disraeli and Lord Granville walking arm in arm up the staircase. It showed 220 PARTIES AND POLITICIANS that, though political opponents, they were friendly enough in private life. A foreign lady singer, who had been recommended to the Baron, sang that night, and also Mr. Edward Lloyd. At one of the musical parties that I arranged for Lady Rothschild Madame Melba sang, and M. Pugno, the well-known French pianist, and M. Hollman, the ’cellist, played. The house is really magnificent, and the acoustics, from a musical point of view, most excellent. The private concerts I have arranged and conducted have been many and varied in character. At the annual soirées given by Mr. Alfred de Rothschild at his beautiful house in Seamore Place, Park Lane, Madame Adelina Patti always sang for him and was supported by artists I engaged from Covent Garden, such as M. Alvarez, M. Plancon, and Mlle Scalchi, by Mr. Ben Davies, and Mr. Charles Santley. Mr. Alfred de Rothschild took great interest in arranging the programme with me, and I had to see him frequently beforehand at his house in the mornings. King Edward (then Prince of Wales) honoured all these soirées with his pre- sence, and after the music he would speak to me very graciously, saying in German, “ Sie haben sehr schén begleitet’’ (You accompanied beautifully). Well-known figures in London society were always there, and it was a fine sight to see the magnificent toilettes and rare jewels SOIREES AT SEAMORE PLACE 221 of the ladies in the glittering light of the white- and-gold drawing-rooms, their walls hung with the masterpieces of Gainsborough. The music generally began about a quarter past eleven and ended at one o’clock. Then Supper was served, and the Prince of Wales generally escorted Madame Patti to the supper- table. Later on dancing took place, the late M. Jacoby conducting the band. Jacoby was for many years conductor at the Alhambra, for which he composed a number of ballets. He was a German, and as a boy lived with his parents in Berlin, where my eldest brother, Eduard, taught him the violin, and he always spoke of him to me with the greatest gratitude and respect. His father afterwards settled in Paris, and then young Jacoby came over here and made his home in London, and also his reputation. I remember once being asked by a very rich gentleman to engage Madame Patti for a pri- vate concert he intended to give, for which he said he would pay her a fee of a thousand guineas if she would consent to sing. I told him at once that she would not sing anywhere privately, as she never accepted such engagements, and that I could not, on any account, try and per- suade her to sing for him, as it would be quite useless. So that finished the matter. At one of the soirées at Mr. Rothschild’s, at which Madame Patti sang, I had engaged three 222 PARTIES AND POLITICIANS remarkable artists from the Opera, namely, M. Alvarez, Signor Ancona, and M. Plancon, to sing, besides their songs, the Trio from Faust; but when it was over the Prince of Wales, who sat close to the singers in the front room, said to me: ‘‘ Ganz, the singers sing as if they thought they were in Covent Garden; it is much too loud.” I am bound to say he was right, but it was magnificently sung all the same. We did not have a trio next year. On one occasion I arranged a private concert for Mr. Charrington, at his house in Pont Street, for which, at his desire, I engaged three prima donnas, Madame Calvé, Madame Emma Eames, and Mlle Marie Engle. I had fixed upon some concerted music for this soirée, one item being the Quintette from the Meistersinger, and I had arranged to have a rehearsal for the concert at my own house. One of the ladies objected to rehearsing, saying that the pitch of my piano was much too high ; but I told her that I should order a French-pitch piano for the soirée, and after some persuasion I got her to rehearse. When the evening came this lady, instead of singing a grand aria, elected to. sing a little American ballad, while another wanted to take Plancon’s place in the programme, saying, “ Je dois chanter demain devant la reine Victoria a Windsor, et il faut que je parte aussi vite que possible ’” (I am going to sing to Queen Victoria MUSIC AT MR. CHARRINGTON’S = 2238 at Windsor to-morrow, and must get away as quickly as possible), but Plangon would not give way, saying to her, ‘‘ Mais, madame, vous avez déja chanté une fois et je ne peux pas vous donner ma place”? (But, Madame, you have already sung once, and I cannot give you my place). She reluctantly consented to remain un- til her turn came to sing her last song. I tried to smooth things over and pacify these exacting artists, in which I succeeded. The concert took place in a large music-room and afterwards Mr. Charrington presented each lady artiste with a beautiful bouquet. The united fees of the artists on this occasion were over £1,100, and the programmes were printed on white satin. The late Baroness de Reuter used also to give receptions at her house in Kensington Palace Gardens, where many unknown young artists had the chance of appearing before a distinguished audience. These receptions took place in the afternoon ; the big salons were on the ground- floor and attached to them was a spacious con- servatory, containing choice flowers and marble statues. On one occasion I engaged a small orchestra, which I conducted, and Madame Christine Nilsson sang and won the hearts of all her listeners. The other artist was Herr Alex- ander Reichardt, the Viennese tenor, who sang German Lieder with exquisite taste. Baron de Reuter was a clever and charming 16 224 PARTIES AND POLITICIANS man. It was he who succeeded in laying the first Atlantic cable to America, by the Great Eastern steamship, which was the largest steamer then built. He was also the founder of Reuter’s Telegraph Company, which gives the news to this country from all parts of the world and has made the name of Reuter famous. We used to chaff each other, and the Baron would often say in fun: ‘“‘ Ganz, I have composed a wonderful new opera, which will be performed very shortly.” When I first knew the Reuters they were then Mr. and Mrs. Reuter, and lived in a small house in Doughty Street, Mecklenburg Square. Through his energy and good luck in organising the telegraphic service during the Franco-Prus- sian War in 1870—71, he became a well-known man and was created a baron by the late Duke Ernest of Saxe Coburg-Gotha. This Duke was the brother of Prince Albert of Saxe Coburg- Gotha, and composed several operas, one of which, called Casilda, was performed at Her Majesty’s Theatre. At another private concert I had engaged a good number of artists, and the lady who was giving the concert wanted some concerted music performed, and I had therefore to engage two prima donnas. One of them, when she saw the list of artists, complained that I had engaged too many and made the programme too long. I assured her that I was obliged to do so, and AT LADY RANDOLPH CHURCHILL'S 225 told her the reason, and said it would not be fair to ask her to sing too often. Anyhow, I had arranged a splendid programme, and all the items went well; but I mention this to show how extremely difficult it is to please everybody —especially prima donnas ! Mrs. Mackintosh of Mackintosh is another hostess who gives concerts at which such artists as Madame Calvé, Madame Emmy Destinn, Madame Clara Butt, Mr. Ben Davies, and M. Plangon are heard. The playing of The Mackin- tosh’s piper in full highland dress during supper always interests the foreign artists. I remember accompanying at a small musi- cal party given by Lord and Lady Randolph Churchill at their house in Connaught Place, at which King Edward, then Prince of Wales, was present. Mlle Sigrid Arnoldson, a Swedish oper- atic vocalist, who had a high, fresh soprano voice, sang most beautifully, while Miss Nettie Carpenter played the violin. When Miss Carpenter entered the drawing-room the Prince beckoned me to him and asked me all about her and whether she played well. Of course I replied in the affirma- tive, and told His Royal Highness that she was an American girl, who had studied at the Conservatoire in Paris, where she had gained the premier prix. ‘When the little concert was over, everybody adjourned to the billiard-room, which was on the same floor, where we all had supper. During 226 PARTIES AND POLITICIANS a conversation I had with Lord Randolph I asked him whether he ever felt nervous when addressing the House of Commons, and he said, “Yes, always, at the beginning of my speech; but when once I am warmed up I get on all right.” It was a very enjoyable and uncere- monious evening; several of the host’s married sisters, who had been my pupils, were present. I noticed on the staircases no end of addresses to Lord Randolph—some being from his con- stituents. The house was beautifully appointed and full of objets d’ari. Many years ago I stayed at the country seat of Baron and Baroness Meyer de Rothschild at Mentmore, near Leighton Buzzard. That fine mansion had not long been finished, and Baron Ferdinand de Rothschild and his bride, Baroness Evelina de Rothschild, daughter of Baron Lionel de Rothschild, M.P. for the City of London, were staying there at the same time on their honeymoon. The Baroness Evelina had a good mezzo-soprano voice, and sang occasionally in the evenings, and I accompanied her. She died within a year of her happy marriage, to the great grief of her husband, who founded the Evelina Hospital for sick children at Southwark in memory of her. Among the visitors staying there at the same time was Benjamin Disraeli, who had his secre- tary, Mr. Montague Corry, afterwards Lord Rowton, with him. I sat next Mr. Disraeli at DISRAELI 227 dinner sometimes, but was always too timid in those days to address him—he used to come into the drawing-room to listen to my playing, and would stand by my side, holding his little eye- glass to his eye; but he never uttered a word. Mr. Corry knew me well, as I used to teach his sisters, and he would willingly have intro- duced me to Disraeli, but I fought shy of him. Other guests were the Count and Countess Bernstorff; the Count was then Prussian Am- bassador. The Countess was a pupil of mine, and had a fine contralto voice, excelling in Schubert’s songs, which she often sang. Then there was the Hon. Monckton Milnes, afterwards Lord Houghton, father of the present Marquis of Crewe. He was, as everybody knows, a fine poet, and his lyrics were often set to music One of them, “‘ The Beating of my own Heart,” was set by Sir George Macfarren, and Madame Clara Novello sang it into popularity. In later years my daughter Georgina sang it a great deal at country houses where she stayed, and the melody was so infectious that people used to hum it all over the house. I thoroughly enjoyed my visit to Mentmore, and meeting so many distinguished people. Before the present mansion was built I used to stay at Mentmore Cottage and gave a few singing-lessons to Miss Hannah de Rothschild, who married the present Lord Rosebery. The Bernstorffs were great.favourites of Queen 228 PARTIES AND POLITICIANS Victoria and Prince Albert, and I remember that the Prince Consort was godfather to one of their sons. I used to teach two of their children the piano, Count Andreas and Countess Teresa. They often gave evening parties at their fine house in Carlton House Terrace, which lent itself well for big entertainments. Many German artists appeared there, who thus had an oppor- tunity of being heard by the best English society. Some of them the Countess intro- duced to me, and I did all I could to be useful to them. After Count Bernstorff left he was succeeded by Count Miinster, who was very fond of music, and often asked me to arrange musical parties for him. He was a widower, and his daughter, the Countess Marie, did the honours for him. The present German Emperor created him a Prince. Count Miinster was always most affable and friendly tome. I remember, one evening, Joseph. Joachim and I were invited to dine with him. After dinner he asked Joachim to play some- thing, but he had not got his violin or any music with him. I suggested the Kreutzer Sonata, and Joachim sent a messenger to fetch his violin and music, and we played the sonata together. Joachim afterwards made appreciative remarks to me which pleased me very much. Although these reminiscences are supposed to be only connected with music and musicians, I cannot refrain from mentioning my several GLADSTONE 229 interviews with the late great ‘‘ Tribune of the People,” Mr. William Ewart Gladstone, as it was principally at musical entertainments that I met him. On one occasion the “ grand old man” was staying on a visit at Lord and Lady Rothschild’s, at Tring Park, Hertfordshire, with Lord Redes- dale, Mr. John Morley, M. de Staal, the then Russian Ambassador, and other distinguished guests. Of course Lady Rothschild did the honours, assisted by her daughter and her son, Mr. Walter Rothschild. We used to have music in the evenings, M. Joseph Hollman playing the ’cello and I accompanying him. One evening I sat next Mr. John Morley at dinner, and in the course of conversation spoke to him about becoming a Cabinet Minister again. This, he assured me, would never happen; but of course it did, for Mr. Gladstone soon became Prime Minister again, and Mr. Morley entered his Cabinet, and in later years was created Viscount Morley. In conversation with Mr. Gladstone I asked him whether he did not feel very tired after addressing his constituents for so many hours at a time at the Corn Exchange in Edinburgh ; but he said no, and added that, to moisten his throat, he took the,yolk of an egg beaten up, and that made it all right. I asked him to be so kind as to favour me with his autograph, and he said: ‘‘ Give me a ‘ 280 PARTIES AND POLITICIANS little time, and let me have your address, and I will attend to it.” He did not forget his promise, for one cold day in March, not long after, he drove up in a victoria to my house in Harley Street while we were at lunch. When I saw him drive up I went to the door and his footman handed me a large envelope. I knew what it was, and walked out to the carriage and thanked Mr. Gladstone, who said he had pre- ferred to bring the packet to me himself instead of sending it by post, so that the photograph inside it might not be damaged ; and I thanked him again for his kindness. It was a large photograph signed by himself. I had it specially framed, and it now graces one of the walls in my house. Mr. Gladstone was particularly fond of music, and used to sing in his younger days. Unfortu- nately, I never heard him ; but I remember the late Countess of Bernstorff, who had heard him, telling me about his singing. He went one evening to the Music-hall in Great George Street, Edinburgh, when Madame Adelina Patti sang and I was conducting. During the interval he came round to the artists’ room to speak to Madame Patti, addressing her in Italian. But when he found she spoke English quite perfectly he continued the conversation in that language, and offered her his congratulations on her superb singing. Mr. Gladstone at one time had a house in HARLEY STREET 231 Harley Street close to where we then lived, and I remember, one Sunday afternoon, walking down our usually quiet street and seeing a cordon of police drawn across the road to pre- vent people approaching Mr. Gladstone’s house. It was at the time of the “‘ Jingo ”’ excitement, and his windows had been broken by a mob. At that time Harley Street was not merely a street of doctors (“ Pill-box Lane” it has sometimes been called), but my neighbours and friends included, besides Sir Richard Quain, the great diner-out, who was always amusing, and Sir Morell Mackenzie, the Kendals, the Chappells, who gave famous musical parties, Mr. Gully, afterwards Speaker of the House of Commons, Sir Charles Russell, Mr. F. Wootton Isaacson, M.P., Mr. Weedon Grossmith, and Sir Francis and Lady Jeune, at whose parties one met all the celebrities of the day. Some most artistic private concerts were given by the late Lord Chief Justice, Sir Alexander Cockburn, at his house in Hertford Street, and he did me the honour of asking me to arrange them. Joachim generally played at these soirées, and so did Piatti, and some distinguished artist always sang, one of these, I remember, being the beautiful Mlle Belocca, of Her Majesty’s Theatre. People listened most attentively, and there was no talking to disturb the performers, as often happened at other houses, where pianoforte- playing was usually the signal for general con- 2382 PARTIES AND POLITICIANS versation to begin. ‘While on this subject. I may mention what happened once at a musical party given by Mrs. Dudley Ward, sister-in-law of the late Earl of Dudley, which I helped to arrange and at which I played all the accom- paniments. It so happened that the great Madame Schu- mann was engaged to play some pianoforte solos, and she began by playing Chopin’s Polonaise in A flat. But, alas! during the whole time she was playing the people talked incessantly. Knowing what her feelings would be, I stood by her side and condoled with her; but I don’t think she ever played at any private party in England again. The fact was that the great attraction that night was Giuglini, who had then not long made his first appearance at Mapleson’s opera, as Arturo in I Puritani, and became at once the idol of the British public. Of course, a few years afterwards, when Madame Schumann be- came a leading attraction at the Popular Con- certs, she was always received with acclamation, and, I have seen the audience in the stalls throwing flowers at her; but on the night of Mrs. Dudley Ward’s party she could not get a hearing. To return to the soirée at Sir Alexander Cock- burn’s, among the audience used to be a good many judges, the confréres of the host. Sir Alexander was a very charming and fascinating SIR ALEXANDER COCKBURN 233 man; he was particularly fond of Beethoven, and I remember that, after attending some of my Orchestral Concerts at St. James’s Hall, where I performed some of Berlioz’s symphonies, he told me that he did not care for Berlioz, but preferred the old classical masters. He had a very melodious voice, and always spoke to me in German, which he had learnt fluently at the University of Jena, where he studied, and he also spoke French and Italian perfectly. He was the English representative at the Court of Arbitration that dealt with the Alabama dis- pute, and of course presided for many months at the Tichborne Trial, which was so sensational, and ended in a verdict approved by all sensible people. He once asked me to join him at dinner one Sunday at Richmond; but I told him I had already accepted an invitation to dine with Mr. J. M. Levy (proprietor of the Daily Telegraph). I said I would, however, explain matters to Mr. Levy, who I knew would excuse me. “Don’t do that,” said Sir Alexander; ‘‘as Mr. Levy can be much more useful to you than I can, we will arrange for another Sunday”; which he did. He was always most considerate, even in small matters. He told me that his grand piano at Hertford Street was wearing out, and I suggested his buying a new Erard grand ;-so we fixed a day to go to Erard’s in Great Marlborough Street 234 PARTIES AND POLITICIANS to select one. I tried several pianos and he chose one he liked, but did not purchase it, and when we got outside he told me the reason. He said rather despondently that, after all, he would rather not buy a new instrument, as he might be dead the following year; and so it really happened, for he died suddenly November 20th, 1880. I have often thought since of his curiously prophetic words, and of his strange premonition. He was full of eloquence, combined with great learning and sound judgment, and was a great loss to the musical world. At one of his soirées Madame Sembrich, the new prima donna from Covent Garden, sang. She was an extraordinary woman, not only a great singer but a splendid pianist and violinist. She showed all three talents at a concert she appeared at given at the Albert Hall by Sir Julius Benedict, where she roused the large audience to great enthusiasm. At Sir Alex- ander Cockburn’s soirée she surpassed herself. There were a great many distinguished people present, amongst whom was the handsome Countess Grosvenor. Other eminent personages in the law I have known have shown a cultivated taste for things musical. The late Lord Chancellor, Lord Herschell, was a proficient performer on the violoncello, and often of an evening he used to arrange trio parties, in which he took part and played classical] LORD ALVERSTONE 235 works. The present Lord Chief Justice, Lord Alverstone, has a baritone voice and may often be heard taking part with the choir in the sing- ing at St. Mary Abbot’s, Kensington. But not all eminent judges have the same partiality for good music. One of them had been invited by a friend to go with him to a concert devoted to the works of John Sebastian Bach. When the concert was over, and he was asked what he thought of it, he replied, ‘‘I had rather hear Offenbach than Bach often! ” CHAPTER XIII MY ITALIAN TOUR I attend the first performance of Mascagni’s I Rantzaw in Florence—My notice of it in the Daily News—Rome— Clement Scott and I continue the journey—A dinner-party of celebrities—Cardinal Rampolla—Madame Ristori—Naples —Scott goes on to Egypt and India—Pisa—Genoa— Paga- nini’s violin—I visit Verdi at the Palazzo Doria—His Falstaff — Nice — Monte Carlo — Cannes — Turin —Milan —ASignor Ricordi and his great publishing house—Venice— Farewell performance at the Teatro Rossini to Tamburlini —His triumph—The audience sings with him. In 1892 I was asked by my co-directors of the Carl Rosa Opera Company to go to Florence to hear the first performance of Mascagni’s new opera, J Ranizau, and to report on it for possible production by the company. My travelling companion was the late Mr. Eugene Ascherberg, the music-seller, who purchased the rights of Mascagni’s Cavalleria Rusticana, and Leon- cavallo’s I Pagliacci; he also wanted to hear the new opera, to see if it was worth his while to publish it in England. Thanks to him, I made the acquaintance of Signor Sonzogno, Mascagni’s publisher, through whom I was in- troduced to Mascagni, who conducted the per- formance at the Pergola Theatre, which is very 236 FIRST PERFORMANCE OF I RANTZAU 287 large and has six to eight rows of boxes, but no gallery. Signor Ferraris, the ordinary con- ductor, had a splendid orchestra and fine chorus. Madame Darclée, a Roumanian soprano, took the part of Luisa. De Lucia, whom I remem- bered hearing at Covent Garden, was the tenor. The most prominent artist in the cast was the great baritone Signor Battistini, whom I visited during the interval in his dressing-room and asked him why he never came to England. He replied that he would like very much to come, only had not yet had any offers of an engage- ment. But I think Sir Augustus Harris had wished to engage him, only that his terms were so high. The fact was that Battistini was a great favourite in Russia, and got high fees there. In Russia a baritone was a draw, in England not at all—even the former great baritones, Ronconi and Graziani, never drew crowded houses. The great Russian, Chaliapine, has now come here to prove that this is no longer the case. Battistini was engaged in 1905 at Covent Garden, to sing Don Giovanni and other parts, and he pleased very much. But to return to our journey. We left Lon- don the morning of November 8th, and travelled to Paris, and thence direct to Florence, via Dijon, Chambéry, Mont Cenis, Turin, Genoa, and Pisa. We reached Florence on the morn- ing of the third day and had already engaged 238 MY ITALIAN TOUR rooms in the Kraft’s Hotel, which had been formerly an Italian nobleman’s palace. I am sorry to say that I Rantzau was a failure, notwithstanding the thunderous ap- plause the audience bestowed upon the composer and the singers. Mascagni was recalled twenty or thirty times. Entire nous, I suppose the Gye" claque had something to do with it. The ladies in the audience were presented with fans made of fancy straw, each one having a photo- graph of Mascagni and some roses attached to it, I had been asked by my friend, Mr. Percy Betts, to write a notice of the opera for the ST. PETER’S 239 Daily News. The performance did not finish until very late, and at about one a.m. I went to the post office and wrote a notice of 841 words, which I telegraphed to the Paris Office of the Daily News. It cost me £5, but was worth it, for my notice filled two columns of the London Daily News next morning. When the other English critics saw me writing and sending off my copy they wondered for whom I was doing it, as they had never seen me do such a thing before ; but I did not give them any information. I heard them remark to one another, ‘‘ What is Ganz doing here ?”’ and I must say it amused me to see their curiosity. Mr. Ascherberg soon went back to England, telling me before he started that he was not going to buy the English rights of Mascagni’s opera. I stayed on and saw Sonzogno very often, and also Mascagni, at whose house I visited and made the acquaintance of his wife and children. I went from Florence straight to Rome. I know that many of my readers have already seen ‘‘ The Eternal City ’’ of Rome, but I hope they will forgive me for adding my impressions of it. I arrived in the evening and stayed at the Hotel Quirinale in the Via Vittorio Emanuele. At the table d’héte I had a pleasant surprise, for who should I see sitting opposite me but my old friend Clement Scott, the eminent writer and critic of the Daily Telegraph. I went to the Church of St. Peter’s, built by 17 240 MY ITALIAN TOUR Michael Angelo, every day during the ten days I was in Rome. I had to drive there as it was a long way from my hotel. The first time I entered St. Peter’s I am ashamed to say I felt disappointed. The fact was I could not grasp the grandeur of this magnificent building all at once; but every day it grew on me more and more, and I visited over and over again the fine chapels with the kneeling statues of the various popes in marble, and admired the wonderful sitting statue of St. Peter, whose toe millions of people have kissed, and gazed up to the summit, of the dome, with its gallery, and the magnificent High Altar, above which is the loggia of the Pope. I also went up the famous winding staircase, upon which one can ride on horseback, to the top of the principal tower, from which I had a splendid view over Rome and the Campagna, with the mountains in the distance. One evening I went to the Constanza Theatre, when a new opera by a—to me—unknown com- poser was given, through the influence of Signor Tamagno, who played the leading tenor réle. Notwithstanding the efforts of this great singer, it did not meet with much success, In Italy no end of new operas are given during the season, but the greater number of them are failures, and never reach other countries. Another evening I was invited to a most interesting dinner-party given by Signor Angelo CARDINAL RAMPOLLA 241 Basevi, a friend of Signor Tosti’s, who had introduced me to him. There I met Targioni- Tozzetti, part author of the libretti of Mascagni’s operas, and also Count Sacconi, architect of the colossal monument to Victor Emanuel, which was then being erected. Mascagni was also there, and played and sang extracts from I Rantzau to Sgambati, and told us he was re- ceiving seven or eight hundred letters a day asking for his autograph. We were all very jovial, and passed a delightful evening. I was much impressed by the ruins of the Colosseum, and I also visited the Church of S. Paolo fuori le Mura, a few miles outside the city—a splendid building, with marble columns on each side, which I could not help thinking would have made a fine concert-hall. As I was leaving, I saw a priest kneeling at his devotions in one of the side-chapels, evidently some im- portant personage, as his attendant, dressed in black, was in the corner waiting for him; so I went up to the attendant and asked who he was. - He replied that it was His Eminence Cardinal Rampolla, Secretary of State to the Pope. When the Cardinal rose from his prayers and walked out he passed me, and I bowed to him, and he returned the salutation with a gracious smile. He was tall and commanding-looking, and extremely dignified and handsome. He entered his carriage and drove off. When Pope Leo XIII died, Rampolla. had 242 MY ITALIAN TOUR to vacate his official position at the Papal Court. In former years, of course, the Cardinals drove about in magnificent state, with gorgeous liveries, and I contrasted this with the plain carriage and unostentatious appearance of Car- dinal Rampolla, who, great man as he was, went about with no pomp or ceremony. On one of my visits to St. Peter’s, on a Saint’s Day, I heard a mass the music of which was most trivial. It was said by a Cardinal, but was not impressive, and the singing was not at all out of the ordinary. One day I visited the celebrated actress, Madame Ristori, who in private life is the Marchesa del Grillo, to whom I had brought a letter of introduction from my friend, Paolo Tosti. She received me most kindly and intro- duced me to her son, the Marchese del Grillo. She is a madonna-like woman, with wonderful eyes; very queenly in bearing, and of striking appearance. I told her I had had the pleasure of seeing her in London as Maria Stuart in Schiller’s play. She regretted that Tosti never came to Rome, and we talked about London and music and a variety of subjects. Before leaving she handed me these beautiful lines: “L’Arte é€ un grande inesorabile riposo dello spirito. ‘‘ADELAIDE RIsTORI DEL GRILLO. “AJ gentilissimo Wilhelm Ganz, Roma, 18 Nov. 1892.” NAPLES 243 I found her a most charming hostess, and am always glad I had the opportunity of meeting her. It was once suggested that Macbeth should be translated and so cut down as to give greater prominence to Lady Macbeth. Ristori ex- claimed, ‘“‘What! cut Shakespeare? God forbid that I should commit such a sacrilege ! ”’ Before leaving Rome I visited the King’s palace, and also the Conservatoire, where I was introduced to the director, Signor Marchetti, by Signor Sgambati, who was one of the professors there. I went into the various class-rooms, and was much interested in the different arrange- ments. Marchetti’s opera, Ruy Blas, was per- formed at Her Majesty’s many years ago, with Mile Salla and Mlle Belocca in the caste, and, as I told him, I was present at the first perform- ance. Signor Sgambati had also frequently been in England, and has played at London concerts. He told me that, during the winter months, he went every Monday evening to the Palace to play to Queen Margherita. She was very fond of Beethoven’s music, and he played most of the sonatas to her and arranged performances of the trios and quartettes. After leaving Rome I went with Clement Scott to Naples, where we took our rooms at the Hotel Vesuvius, which stands on the long, beautiful esplanade facing the bay. The mana- ger, who knew Scott from having been manager of the “ Greyhound” at Hampton Court, was 244 MY ITALIAN TOUR much pleased to see him, and very attentive to us. We drove together to Sorrento, which lies in the Bay of Naples a little way from the town, and had our lunch at a restaurant, sitting at the open window, to the accompaniment of some mandoline players, who sang Tosti’s songs and folk-melodies and made us feel quite happy and contented. Before us was the Bay of Naples, with Vesuvius in the distance and the beautiful Island of Ischia. Scott was enchanted, and said he would like to live there for ever. After lunch we sipped our coffee and smoked our cigars, and then drove along the coast to Pausilippo, passing some picturesque villas, the property of old Lablache, who had bought land there, and saw the house where Thalberg,. his son-in-law, lived. Next day we parted company, Scott going on to Egypt and India and other distant parts of the world—to write an account of his travels for the Daily Telegraph. After he had left I visited Pompeii, driving there in a small one- horse carriage through Portici, and saw the wonderful ruins. I remained a few days longer in Naples and then travelled back to Rome without stopping anywhere en route, and then went on to Pisa, Turin, Nice, and Monte Carlo. At Pisa I stayed at an old-fashioned, rather small hotel, called the ‘‘ Arno,” and while there visited the famous Campo Santo, where so many distinguished VERDI 245 Italians are buried, and saw the Cathedral and the Baptistery. Of course I also ascended the wonderful leaning-tower, but was disappointed with the view from the top of it. + Next day I travelled to Genoa, where I arrived on November 26th, and took my room at the Grand Hétel du Parc. I was most anxious to see Verdi, so I called at his home, the historical Doria Palace; but his servant told me he was at the opera, rehearsing his new opera, Falstaff, and asked me to call again the following morn- ing, when he would receive me. I then went to the Palazzo Municipale and saw Paganini’s ‘‘ Guarnieri” violin, which was locked up in one of the cupboards. Sivori, who lives in Genoa, is sometimes permitted to play upon it. As I knew Sivori, having often accom- panied him at concerts, I called to see him and asked him to give me an introduction to Verdi, which he did, writing some lines on his card. I went to see the world-renowned Campo Santo at Genoa, which, like that of Pisa, is filled with the graves of Italy’s famous men and con- tains a very fine monument to Mazzini. The next day, which was Sunday, I went to the Palazzo Doria to visit Verdi—my appointment being for eleven. I gave the servant my card, and that of Sivori, and was shown into a very elegantly furnished salon, where I noticed a large glass cabinet containing Verdi’s orders 246 MY ITALIAN TOUR and various laurel wreaths, with one of gold, as well as a conductor’s baton. Presently Verdi himself appeared, a fine, hand- some man, with a high forehead and grey hair, and beard, who received me most amiably. I mentioned to him that this was my first visit to Italy, and showed him some of the programmes of the Carl Rosa Company’s Opera performances of Aida and Otello, giving him all particulars about the first performance of Otello in English, and reminding him that the directors, including myself, had wired him to Busseto an account of its great success. He said our cable had never reached him, and that in future we were always to address him at Genoa. I left him the programmes, and told him what Carl Rosa had done for English Opera, and of his wife, the tharming Euphrosyne Parepa. He asked me how long the company had existed, and how often they performed his operas, and seemed very much interested in every detail. I next spoke to him about Madame Patti, and he asked me where she lived and where she was at the present time; so I said she was at her castle in South Wales, called ‘‘ Craig-y-nos,”’ and described it to him, with its beautiful surround- ings, and showed him a programme of the Albert Hall Concert I had conducted, at which Patti had sung his aria “Ernani Involami”’ from Ernani. He also asked whether Nicolini still sang, and I said yes, but very rarely, adding VERDI 247 that he had sung Verdi’s famous “‘ La Donne é mobile’? a short time before at a charity con- cert organised by Madame Patti. I told him Patti knew all her operatic réles by heart, and he said charming things about her and asked me to remember him to her when I returned to England. Verdi heard Madame Patti again in 1893 in his opera La Traviata at the Scala, Milan: she wrote me an interesting letter about the performance. ** MILAN, “January 1893. ““My DEAR Papa GANz, ‘*T must send you a line at once, to tell you of the enormous success I had last night in the Traviata. The place was packed full, and when I came on the reception was so great, all the people standing up, that I know, had you been there with that big heart of yours, you would have cried your poor eyes out, just as Verdi did. I am told that throughout the per- formance he did nothing but sob, he found that my phrasing was so pure and touching. At the end of the Farewell Scene, just as I was rushing off, my foot caught in the lace of my skirt, and I fell right down on the floor. ‘Dieu Merci,’ I did not hurt myself much... . It is a real pleasure to sing to these Italians, they do se well appre- ciate each phrase, to the highest degree; and then their ‘ Brava’ always comes in just at the right moment. You could have heard a fly, so quiet they were, and took everything in, and at the end the enthusiasm was glorious—oh !!! ““T love to sing to them; ‘Cela fait un vrai 248 MY ITALIAN TOUR plaisir,’ and a real success here is something worth having. ‘““Now I must close, as Verdi has just come to see me. Love to all your dear family, not forgetting your dear self. Always affectionately yours, ‘*s ADELINA,”’ I recalled to Verdi that I was present at the Royal Albert Hall when he had conducted his famous Requiem, sung by Madame Stoltz, Madame Waldmann, and other great artists. He then asked whether Signor Randegger was still in London, and I told him yes, and very active into the bargain. In reply to my question as to whether he had finished Falstaff, he said: ‘‘ It will be given in Milan at the end of January. Are you coming to the first performance ?”’ I told him I much regretted it was impossible. He said there were a great many rdéles in it and the tenor had the lover’s part, ‘“‘ which,’ he added, “is very sweet.” He went on to say, “‘ For a long time I have wanted to compose a comic opera, but I could not find a suitable libretto; but I did once write a comic opera.’ He paused, and did not tell me its name. Evidently the thought crossed Verdi’s mind of the tragic bereavement he sustained over fifty years before, when he lost his wife and his two only children within a few months, and, though stunned by the blow, had to complete a comic opera called Un giorno VERDI 249 di Regno which he had been commissioned to write. He had already engaged the soprano and tenor for his Falstaff when I saw him. He told me he enjoyed composing, which gave him real pleasure, and that he hoped he would live long to continue to write. He spoke about Sivori, as if he thought him very old; but I re- minded him that the latter still played the violin and was by no means past work. I asked Verdi for his autograph, and before writing it he said: ‘‘ What is the date of to- day ?”’? and added the date—then gave it to me. I noticed that he had not put my name down, so he took the trouble of going back to his study and bringing it back with my name on it. I mention this because Verdi is, as a tule, very chary about giving his autograph ; so I considered it a great compliment. I then said good-bye to him, and thanked him for his very kind reception, for I had remained with him about an hour. I may add the fol- lowing characteristic story of him. A friend who went to see Verdi when he was staying in a villa at Moncalieri found him in a room which, Verdi said, was his drawing-room, dining-room, and bedroom combined, adding, ‘“‘I have two other large rooms—but they are full of things that I have hired for the season.” Verdi threw open the doors and showed him a collection of several dozen piano-organs. ‘“*When I arrived here,” he said, “all these 250 MY ITALIAN TOUR organs were playing airs from Rigoletto, Trovatore, and my other operas from morning till night. “I was so annoyed that I hired the whole lot for the season. It has cost me about a thousand francs, but at all events I am left in peace.” I then took the twelve-ten train on to Nice, where I arrived in the evening and engaged a room at the Hotel des Anglais, facing the sea. Next morning I called on my old friend, Signor Tagliafico, but found him busy teaching singing, so did not interrupt him. Then I called on an old friend belonging to the Royal Somerset House Lodge in London, who invited me to dinner, and he and his wife took me for a long drive through the town of Nice. We drove along the sea- shore to Beaulieu, where we visited a London friend, Mrs. David, who is also a friend of Madame Patti’s. Next day I went by rail to Monte Carlo, where I visited the Casino and went to an orchestral concert conducted by M. Jehin, whom I had known in London when he was conducting at Covent Garden, and who conducts concerts at Monte Carlo, where the most admirable artists appear. I chatted with several English friends at the rooms and in the gardens and then re- turned to Nice. In the evening I went to the Municipal Theatre. Then I went on to Cannes, and saw the little English Chapel and the villa where Prince Leopold, Duke of Albany, lived and died. The THE RIVIERA 251 sea was perfectly smooth and blue, and the beautiful scenery of the Riviera appealed greatly to me. While at Nice I saw Miss Minnie Tracy by appointment, and engaged her as soprano for the Carl Rosa Company. Signor Vianesi, a former conductor at Covent Garden, called upon me to introduce a young singer who was one of his pupils. I heard her sing, but was not sufficiently struck by her capa- bilities to recommend her for an operatic en- gagement. During the four days I was at Nice I met General Stevens, Adjutant to the late Duke of Cambridge, a friend from London who is an amateur violinist. He is very fond of music, and we often played duets together ; therefore he was sorry when I left and wanted me to stay longer, but I was obliged to go on to Turin. It was a long journey, and the weather was rather cold as we entered Italy. At Turin I stayed at the Hotel de l’Europe, which stands in the large Square. I saw the Royal Palace, the fine armoury, and the Teatro Regio, where I witnessed a performance of which I cannot remember the name, but I fancy it was the ever-popular Cavalleria. ; On December 8rd I travelled from Turin to Milan. Of course I saw all the “sights”? and thought the Duomo one of the most wonder- ful churches in the world, the summit having small marble towers so finely decorated as to 252 MY ITALIAN TOUR give the effect of embroidery. I went to the top and found it difficult to walk about up there, the stone paths being so intricate. I was greatly struck with the Brera Picture- gallery, and I saw the world-renowned and almost obliterated ‘‘ Last Supper ” by Leonardo da Vinci, which is painted on a wall of the Refectory of Santa Maria delle Grazie. It seems a pity that nothing could have been done to preserve this masterpiece from fading. One evening I heard a performance, of course well given, of the Cavalleria at the Teatro dal Verme, and I also went to see the celebrated Opera-house, La Scala; but, as it was holiday- time, there were unfortunately no performances there. However, I went on the stage, which is enormous, the house being much larger than Covent Garden, and there are reception-rooms at the back of each box. I made a point of going to see my old friend Bazzini, the eminent violinist and composer, who played for me in 1857, and was glad to find him looking so well after his long and strenuous career. He talked of his visits to London, where I often accompanied him at concerts, and his duties as director of the Milan Con- servatoire, which, he regretted, prevented him travelling as he had done formerly. Bazzini was one of the many great artists who appeared at the concerts of the Musical Union: he will be seen standing first on the left- BAZZINI 253 hand side of the picture reproduced on an earlier page. I accompanied him there in 1853, when his beautiful tone and finished execution as- tonished everybody. Both music publishers, Signor Ricordi and Signor Sonzogno have large establishments at Milan ; Ricordi has bought the whole of Madame Lucca’s (the former rival of Ricordi) musical stock, containing all the old operas of Rossini, Bellini, Donizetti, and the earlier operas of Verdi. He invited me to visit his music-print- ing, engraving, and publishing works, where he showed me the proof-sheets of Verdi’s Falstaff. He is the publisher of Puccini’s operas, and has, I believe, the largest musical publishing-house in Europe. All my own compositions are pub- lished by Ricordi, although, in connection with the above-mentioned great composers, my small name ought not to appear; but I state the fact because Madame Lucca bought the copyright of my little works, and they were transferred to Ricordi. Ricordi’s great opponent in the musical trade is Sonzogno, who buys the rights of all Mascagni’s and Leoncavallo’s operas; but all the same I don’t think he does Ricordi any harm. He is also the publisher of the Italian newspaper II Secolo. From Milan I travelled to Venice, and on arriving at the station was shown into a gondola steered by two boatmen, in which I traversed 254 MY ITALIAN TOUR several canals and finally arrived at the Hétel Britannia. Next morning I was awakened by loud knocking. Some workmen were driving big wooden posts into the sandy earth and singing all the time. After breakfast I walked, by way of very small streets and alleys, to the Piazza to see San Marco, the King’s Palace, the Campanile, and the Palace of the Doges. I went through the royal palace and up the Campanile, and then visited the Doges’ Palace, with its grim inquisition-chamber, and admired the splendid paintings by Paul Veronese and Tintoretto. I then took a gondola on the Grand Canal and passed the house where Wagner lived and died, and saw the Bridge of Sighs and the other wonderful sights of the city. In the evening I went to the Teatro Rossini and heard Boito’s fine opera, Mefistofele. It was being given as a farewell performance to Signor Tamburlini, who had quite an ovation, being called and recalled many times, and was not only presented with a great many bouquets, but with a small statue of himself. In the last act the audience in the gallery joined Tamburlini in his singing, and altogether it was a most impressive performance. The theatre is rather small, but the orchestra and chorus were good and the principal singers quite acceptable. I was very much impressed by the excellent operatic. conductors they had at the Italian OPERA IN ITALY 255 theatres I visited, and the tenors and baritones were splendid artists ; but I did not care for the female singers, who were rather mediocre. In nearly every theatre I visited I heard Caval- lerta, which, as I said before, seemed to be the rage. 18 CHAPTER XIV NOTABLE MUSICIANS Sir Julius Benedict—Edouard Silas—Sir Arthur Sullivan—He pays me a compliment—M. Camille Saint-Saéns—I arrange a concert for him—Four composers at Cambridge—I meet Tschaikowsky—Leschetizky—Some of his stories—His dog “‘ Solo ’’—Paderewski—Richard Strauss. For many years I had the good fortune to be honoured with the friendship of Sir Julius Benedict. It was a real pleasure to be in his society, he was so full of information of every kind, musical and social. Benedict settled here in 1835, and became a famous teacher of the pianoforte, he himself having been a favourite pupil of Carl Marie von Weber, the composer of the immortal operas Der Freischtitz and Oberon. J never knew such a hard worker as he was; he was up early teaching and out late at musical soirées and other entertainments, which he arranged during the season, and frequently during the night he would, like Balfe, be busy composing. He wrote and brought out several English operas, one of which was The Lily of Killarney, founded on Dion Boucicault’s Colleen Bawn, which was produced at Covent Garden under the direction 256 BENEDICT 257 of the Pyne and Harrison Company in 1862, and had a great success, and is still ‘“‘ running.” Benedict had quite caught the spirit of Irish music, and his opera is full of melody. Louisa Pyne sang the Colleen Bawn, William Harrison, Myles-na-Coppalean, and Santley, Danny Man. One of the songs in the opera, ‘‘ Kily Mavour- neen,” became a great favourite with tenors. I was at the first performance. Benedict would have filled any position with éclat, especially that of a diplomatist, being not only a great administrator, which was so neces- sary in arranging the productions of opera (not his own only) and concerts here and in the pro- vinces, but he was a man full of savoir faire and energy and had great tact. He made friends with most of the people he was associated with, and, what is more, kept their friendship. He spoke not only English, but French and Italian perfectly, and of course his own mother-tongue, German. He was born at Stuttgart. He not only spoke these languages, but wrote them with equal fluency. He often conducted operas, and for some years the Philharmonic Concerts at Liverpool, for which he wrote the analytical programmes. After a long day’s work in London he would travel at night to Liverpool, hold a rehearsal there in the morning and conduct the same evening, giving piano lessons in between. He was an excellent pianist, and had a prodigious 258 NOTABLE MUSICIANS memory. I call to mind a lecture he gave on Weber at the Royal Institution in Albemarle Street, at which I played some pianoforte duets with him. I have made it a rule, all through my profes- sional life, to do what I could in a small way to honour and foster the interests of my musical friends by getting their compositions performed, in addition to the public performances of them. In the sixties I arranged a series of amateur vocal Réunions at my house, at which cantatas, oratorios, and scenas were performed, one of which was Benedict’s St. Cecilia. I had prac- tised it with my choir for some time, and when I considered it to be perfect, and ready for production, I gave an evening performance of it. I invited Benedict to conduct, and asked a number of friends to come and listen, and I played the piano accompaniments. The per- formance went off exceedingly well, and every- body was charmed with this beautiful and melodious work. Benedict, who conducted, was very pleased, and when it was over he made a little speech, thanking me and the choir and the soloists, to which I made a suitable reply. His annual concerts at St. James’s Hall were always a feature of the London season, for he engaged a galaxy of stars, among whom were the best opera-singers. He used to wait anxiously at the top of the staircase leading to the artists’ room to see them arrive so as to be BENEDICT 259 able to begin the concert. One of them was Sims Reeves, who once, after keeping Benedict on the tip-toe of anxious expectation, relieved his mind by turning up, accompanied by his wife and all their children and various friends ! In those days Reeves was a great attraction, and. sang at all Benedict’s concerts. The programme generally consisted of forty items, and very often lasted from one-thirty till six-thirty. They were particularly interesting to people who had no opportunities of hearing the great artists with- out going to the opera and paying for expen- sive seats. The prices at Benedict’s concerts ranged from one guinea to one or two shillings in the gallery. I generally helped with the accompanying, sometimes taking part in the pianoforte quartettes, for four performers, which Benedict composed for these occasions. It was a great pleasure to me to visit him at his house in Manchester Square on Sunday mornings and hear all the news of the day, especially the musical gossip. So far as I know, he composed. only one oratorio, St. Peter, which was composed for the Norwich Festival, of which he was con- ductor for many years. I remember a cantata of his called Undine, in which Madame Clara Novello took her farewell of the British public. It was performed at St. James’s Hall, and she sang, as always, most beautifully, and her voice seemed as fresh as ever ; but, as she had married an Italian Count,, 260 NOTABLE MUSICIANS and was well off, there was no need for her to remain any longer in the profession. I was present at this interesting concert and heard the great ovation accorded to this most charming singer, who had to bow repeatedly to the audi- ence before they would let her go. Benedict still followed his profession when he was well over eighty years of age. He had married, as his second wife, Miss Fortey, a clever pupil of his. The son of that marriage was a god-son of King Edward, then Prince of Wales, and also of Lord Lathom, who was a great friend of the Benedicts, and himself a generous patron of music and musicians. Mr. A. E. Bene- dict is now on the stage. I am reminded that, at our silver wedding in 1884, Sir Julius was present and, in responding to his health at dinner, said he hoped to be present in 1909 at our golden wedding. He was then eighty. Benedict died in 1885, and Lady Benedict afterwards married Mr. Frank Lawson. She was a great friend of mine, and of my family, and was a most charming and accomplished lady, who not only played the piano extremely well but also composed. Not so very long ago she invited my wife and me to luncheon at her house in Cromwell Place, and then seemed quite well and very bright, and in good spirits; but a week or two afterwards I heard, to my great regret, that she K I ee to oe or gW Mion Tl mes Ue aa for sees ‘ = po JS fF FFE oo oth yt tll 1 J yan de Te vitens b- 261 262 NOTABLE MUSICIANS was dead. A few months before the sad event I spoke to her of these reminiscences, and told her I had written something about her first husband, and: read the above lines aloud to her. She was much pleased, and said, “I thank you for helping to keep the memory of Benedict green.” Edouard Silas was another gifted musician resident here, whom I have known almost from the time of my coming to England. He was wonderfully prolific, producing compositions in every form, perhaps his best-known work being a Gavotte in E minor written in the old style. An admirable pianist and all-round musician, it always seemed to me that he ought to have achieved the wider recognition due to his talents. It was, perhaps, his incurable habit of seeing the funny side of things which stood in his way. Most of his time in later years was devoted to giving lessons in harmony, the lessons being always popular owing to the witty and amusing way he had of dealing with things musical. His pupils were always convulsed with laughter. I remember, after he had given my daughter some lessons in harmony, he sent me his account with the characteristic note, introducing the first bars of the Wilhelm Tell overture. Sir Arthur Sullivan has done more for English music than any other English composer. It is needless for me to enlarge on his light operas, which were so successful, beginning from the SULLIVAN 263 eighties, at first at the Royalty Theatre and then at the Savoy, which was built by the late Mr. D’Oyley Carte for the purpose of making a home for them. Of course I was one of his fervent admirers, and went to see all his operas, not only at the Royalty but also at the Savoy. Sullivan is dead, but his music will live on, and help to make the world brighter. Sullivan once paid me a very high compli- ment at the old Hanover Square Rooms, where he and I had both been conductors. He walked up to me in the artists’ room after a concert, and said, “‘Ganz, where did you get that melody from ?”’ (meaning my first song, “‘ Sing, Birdie, sing”’). I did not tell him that I had composed it in an omnibus! He went on to praise the song very much, and because he did so (and not from pride), I here subjoin a few bars. AL eye mn mor ae : Vig a Yong. te of tase tanth dex brqhto~— ae 264 NOTABLE MUSICIANS M. Camille Saint-Saéns I have always re- garded as one of the most wonderful men whose friendship I have been privileged to enjoy. His many-sided genius, his amazing versatility, have always filled me with intense admiration. I am therefore naturally proud to have been the first to enable him to play his splendid concertos in England. I have already spoken of this in dealing with my Orchestral Concerts. I want now to refer to a unique concert which took place in June 1887, the year of Queen Victoria’s Jubilee. Saint-Saéns asked me to arrange an orchestral concert for him at St. James’s Hall, and on that occasion he played his four con- certos, one after another, which was a wonderful feat. He played them all by heart, and when he had finished seemed as fresh as if he had done nothing at all. I had engaged a first-rate orchestra, which I conducted. Unfortunately, the hall was not very full, and Saint-Saéns lost heavily, but he apparently did not mind in the least. The concert was given on a Saturday afternoon and at that period Saturday was not popular as it is to-day for concerts and matinées. It was also an unfortunate time to give a con- cert, as people were full of the Queen’s Jubilee and had no time for concerts. Since then Saint- Saéns’ popularity has so much increased that I am sure that, if it were ever announced that he would play his four concertos in one programme, the house would be crammed. I may mention CAMILLE SAINT-SAENS. 264) SAINT-SAENS 265 that he also played at one of the Brinsmead Symphony Concerts in 1885 which I conducted. He later composed a fifth concerto, and his famous opera Samson et Dalila, after being de- barred for years from having a hearing here, on account of its Biblical story, is now repeatedly performed at Covent Garden with stupendous success. In 1893 I endeavoured to arrange for the production of one of his operas by the Carl Rosa Company, of which I was a director. He wrote me saying: ‘“‘ J’ai le plus grand désir que l’on joue mes opéras en Angleterre, mais _dusqu’a présent c’est un désir que l’Angleterre n’a pas paru partager; Si vous arrivez 4 modifier cette situation, soyez sir que je vous en serai tout a fait reconnais- sant.” (I am very anxious that my operas should be performed in England, but up to the present it is an anxiety which England does not appear to share: if you can manage to modify the situation, you may be sure that I shall be very grateful.) Saint-Saéns is a most charming man, and speaks English perfectly. In French he talks so quickly that it is difficult to follow him. Some years ago, at Dieppe, his native town, I attended an afternoon concert of his works at the Casino, and, when he came out of the artists’ room, accompanied by several friends, and saw me, he was astonished and asked whether I had left England for good. I told him I was only in Dieppe for a holiday, and we had a chat. He 266 NOTABLE MUSICIANS is a great traveller, and often visits Algiers and the Orient, and gives you vivid descriptions. The Square in which the Dieppe theatre stands is called the ‘‘ Place Saint-Saéns,’’ in honour of its distinguished townsman. As is well known, he is a most prolific composer, and, besides his piano concertos, has also written concertos for the violin and ’cello, one of which, his violin concerto, is one of the most beautiful composi- tions of its kind, and is constantly played by Ysaye, Kreisler, Mischa Elman, and other great players. His symphonic poems, such as “ Le Rouet d’Omphale,” his ‘‘ Danse Macabre,” and his opera Henry VIII, which has been per- formed at Covent Garden, have all added to his fame. Knowing what a brilliant pianist he is, I was much struck by his telling me once that he hardly ever practises. His powers of improvisation are remarkable, and he has often, when I have been with him and other artists, sat down to the piano and astonished us by his skilful handling of a theme. His literary works are fine examples of musical criticism, and in conversation he shows the same keen perception and incisive wit. It is a real pleasure to be in his company. He amused me once by beginning the conversation with the remark, ‘‘ Ne me parle pas de la musique : ca ne m’intéresse pas du tout.” It was not for long, however, that the subject was barred. He wrote me a, letter in 1886 which is a good. SAINT-SAENS 267 example of his pointed literary style, The draw- ing which accompanied it is also characteristic. ‘*MON CHER AMI, ‘“‘ J’ai examiné les analyses de M. ; je les trouve plus qu’insuffisantes. Tl ne parait pas avoir compris les morceaux qu’il a analysés. Il donne des citations inutiles et ne met pas des choses indispensables. Le théme du Final de mon Concerto en Ut est rendu méconnaissable ; il a copié une partie de Vhautbois sans s’aper- cevoir qu’elle était tant6t partie principale et tant6t partie intermédiaire ; c’est le comble de l’étourderie et du ridicule. ““Mieux vaudrait pas d’analyses du tout que des choses pareilles qui ne peuvent servir qu’d égarer l’auditeur. “Tout a vous, “C, SaIntT-SAENS.” (‘‘ My DEAR FRIEND, ‘*T have examined the analyses of Mr. ; I. find them more than insufficient. He does not appear to have understood the pieces which he has analysed. He gives useless cita- tions and omits things which are indispensable. The theme of the Finale of my Concerto in C minor is made unrecognisable: he has copied an oboe part without noticing that it is at one time a principal and at another an intermediate part: it is the acme of stupidity and absurdity. ‘‘Far better no analysis at all, than such things which can only help to confuse the listener. ** Yours, *C. Saint-Sa&ns.’’) On June 12th, 1898, my son Albert, an under- 268 NOTABLE MUSICIANS graduate at the time, asked me to come on a visit to Cambridge: a concert was to be given by the Cambridge University Musical Society, of which he was a member, in honour of Max Bruch, Boito, Saint-Saéns, and Tschaikowsky. All four composers took part in the concert: at the Guildhall, Max Bruch conducting a scene A SKETOH BY SAINT SAiiNs, from his Odysseus, Boito ‘‘The Prelude in Heaven” from his Mefistofele, and Tschaikow- sky his Francesca da Rimini. Saint-Saéns played his fantasia Africa, and Stanford’s East to West was also given. The members of the Musical Society sang the choruses, and they gave the composers a tremendous welcome. After the concert was over I met my boy, who was TSCHAIKOWSKY 269 quite hoarse from singing and cheering, and we went down to the river to see the boats ‘‘bumping.” That evening there was a reception at the Fitzwilliam Museum, and I had a long talk with Max Bruch, whom I had not seen since 1878, and chatted with Boito and Saint-Saéns. Seeing Tschaikowsky standing alone, I went up and spoke to him. He was most affable. On my referring to the frequent performances of his works in London at that time he said, “ Je ne demande pas mieux.” The next day the composer received honorary degrees from the University. Of Leschetizky’s greatness as a teacher of the pianoforte, of the enthusiasm with which he inspired his pupils, there is no need for me to speak. But I remember his telling me of Paderewski’s coming to him for the first time. The young Pole played to him in a manner which at once arrested his attention. There was a strangeness and fire about his playing which betokened the great artist, as yet unable to express himself: the technical finish was want- ing, and the just balance of his powers. These qualities Leschetizky was able to educate in ate OPI ———es 270 NOTABLE MUSICIANS such a way that his pupil should lose none of the natural poetry and charm in his playing. Paderewski always acknowledges the great debt he owed to Leschetizky, who speaks of him as one of the most lovable artists he has known. Leschetizky’s memory goes back a long time, and he told me that, when a boy, he played to Marie Louise, the widowed Empress of Napoleon, and mother of the Duc de Reichstadt (L’Aiglon). He has an inexhaustible fund of good stories, which he will relate to you after dinner till late hours. He once told me of a young lady who asked Moszkowski to write something in her birthday-book. He turned over the leaves and found a page upon which Hans von Biilow had written: ‘‘ Bach, Beethoven, Brahms, et tous les autres sont des crétins.”” Moszkowski wrote underneath: ‘‘ Mendelssohn, Meyerbeer, Moszkowski, et tous les autres sont des Chrétiens.”’ Leschetizky speaks of the curious questions which are sometimes put to him. ‘“ An Ameri- can lady once asked me,” he said, ‘* which com- poser I liked best, Wagner or Brahms ; to which I replied ‘ Tschaikowsky.’”’ Of an old professor who still thought himself a capable performer on the concert platform he remarked, ‘‘Er spielt die leichteste Sachen mit der grésster Schwierigkeit ’’ (He plays the easiest things with the greatest difficulty). A charming trait in his character is his affec- tion for his dog, “Solo.” ‘‘ My dog is a faithful LESCHETIZKY 271 and true friend to me,” he says; “he is always sympathetic, and when I’m sitting at the piano composing and cannot think of a second subject for my piece, my dog pities me.” Talking of the fortunes which are made by piano manufacturers, he remarked “ Chi fa piano, va sano! ”’ His energy and vitality are amazing, and it is extraordinary, to me, to think of the amount of work he is still able to get through. When he was over here a few years ago I was de- lighted to hear him play again. He had kept all his old fire and unerring sense of rhythm. He used often to come and see us, as he was living close by in Duke Street, Portland Place. One Sunday evening I had asked him to come to supper, but suddenly a thick fog came on so that it was impossible to see a yard in front of you. My son went round to see if he was coming. Of course he was, and thought it a great joke groping his way across Portland Place. Since the advent of Richard Wagner, no composer has created such a sensation or aroused such controversy as Richard Strauss. 1 remem- ber being present at the first concert which he conducted here: it was at the Queen’s Hall one evening in December 1897. From the out- set there was no mistake about his gifts as a conductor. He had the lights lowered in the hall when he began Mozart’s “ Eine kleine 19 272 NOTABLE MUSICIANS Nachtmusik,”’ and it was a real pleasure to note the sympathy he showed for the music and the beautiful balance and phrasing of the orchestra. There was immense Schwung, as the Germans say, about the performance of his: fine tone-poem, “Tod und Verklaérung ’’; everything was made beautifully clear and understandable. Tt was apparent that another great figure had arisen in the musical world. There was great en- thusiasm, and Mr. Leonard Borwick, who hap- pened to be sitting next to me, was also full of praise for Strauss’s work. I attended several of the concerts of the Richard Strauss Festival in 1903 at the St. James’s Hall, for which Herr Mengelberg brought over his splendid orchestra from Amsterdam. The public showed com- paratively little interest in these fine concerts. - At one of them Herr von Possart, the well- known director of the Hoftheater in Munich, who was also a most distinguished actor, appeared and declaimed Tennyson’s ‘‘Enoch Arden,” giving this fine poem in German and from memory, whilst Strauss played the incidental music, which he had composed on the piano. There was, unfortunately, only a very small audience, but it was a most appreciative one, and cheered both artists to the echo. Neither of them was at all well known in England at that period. I paid them both a visit in the artists’ room, as I knew them personally. They seemed quite satisfied, and did not mind having RICHARD STRAUSS 2738 performed to an empty hall. Strauss also accompanied his wife on the piano most beauti- fully. Very few years later public interest was at last aroused by Sir Henry Wood’s and Mr. Thomas Beecham’s performances of Strauss’s works at the Queen’s Hall, and at the first performance of Ein Heldenleben, which I at- tended, the hall was packed. A young Strauss enthusiast, who was sitting next to me, said, ‘*T was in the Rocky Mountains when I read that Heldenleben was to be given in London, so I packed up and came straight back.” The climax came with the production of Elektra at Covent Garden under the enterprising direc- tion of Mr. Thomas Beecham. I went to the re- hearsals of the opera, so as to get to know the music, and at the first performance on Febru- ary 19th, 1910, as I could not get a seat, I stood for the whole of the performance—not bad for a man of my age! CHAPTER XV RECOLLECTIONS OF KING EDWARD, ETC. Lord Dupplin’s dinner-party--My Masonic jubilee — King Edward at Warwick Castle—His joke about Madame Clara Butt and myself—Sir Augustus Harris—The New Meister- singers’ Club—Maurice Farkoa’s first appearance—I engage Miss Pauline Joran—‘ Westminster Bridge’”—The Mar- chesis—‘‘ Mamma Puzzi”—A telegram after midnight—A scare at Manchester. I First had the honour of meeting our late King at the house of my pupil, Viscount Dupplin, son of the late Earl of Kinnoull. He gave a dinner-party in honour of King Edward (then Prince of Wales) at his house in Albert Gate, Hyde Park. I had arranged that Signor Gar- doni, the tenor from Her Majesty’s Theatre, should sing my new National Anthem, “ God save the Prince of Wales,”’ and when dinner was over he sang it, the whole of the company, in- cluding the Prince, rising to their feet and remaining standing. Later on in the evening Lord Dupplin introduced me to the Prince, who asked me how long I had been in England and all about my career. He also wanted to know whether I knew Mr. Hallé, and when I said yes he remarked that he himself had had violin 274 LORD DUPPLIN’S DINNER-PARTY 275 lessons, but did not get on well with them, so gave them up. All the same, he was a great lover of music, which he showed by going often to concerts and the opera, and I also recollect, when Director Neumann brought over a German Opera Company, in 1882, to perform the Ring at Her Majesty’s Theatre, the Prince went to all the performances, some of which began at 5 or 6 p.m., and remained until the end. He also went several times to Bayreuth to hear the operas there. That same evening at Lord Dupplin’s I asked him to allow me to dedicate my song to him, and he at once graciously gave me permission. I had composed it after the Prince’s recovery from his serious illness. This song of mine had no chance of becoming popular, because Brinley Richard’s song, ‘‘ God bless the Prince of Wales ”’ had already been taken up as the national song for the Prince. Lord Dupplin was a thorough musician by nature. He had not studied music, but ex- temporised most wonderfully and played and sang beautifully. I used to teach him, when he was in the Life Guards, at Knightsbridge Barracks. His uncle, the late Duke of Beau- fort, was a great patron of music, and was President of the Glee and Madrigal Society. He sometimes invited me to be present at their meetings, which I always enjoyed very much. I have been for many years an active Free- 276 RECOLLECTIONS OF KING EDWARD, ETC. mason, and celebrated my Masonic Jubilee in 1906. All my various lodges presented me with handsome presents on that occasion, consisting of silver vases, entrée dishes, and vegetable dishes, as well as an ebony conductor’s baton with an inscription on a silver plate, and a hand- some dinner-service. I was elected Grand Organist of the Grand Lodge of England in 1871, and when I walked up to the dais of the Grand Lodge, where the Pro-Grand Master, the late Earl of Carnarvon, presided, the whole Masonic company assembled in the beautiful Temple of the Fraternity in the Freemason’s Hall cheered me, and Lord Car- narvon, in investing me as Grand Organist, re- marked that he could tell by their cheering that my appointment was a very popular one. I held that post for three years. . My friend Sir Edward Letchworth, the secretary of the Grand Lodge, is a universal favourite with the craft. Everybody knows the vast amount of good this Society does, all over the world, and especi- ally in England, with their Boys’ and Girls’ Schools and Home for aged men and women. The Masonic Boys’ School is in Bushey Park, and the Girls’ School at S. John’s Hill, Wands- worth ; both schools educate many hundreds of children. I remember, on one occasion, when I had arranged a concert for the Countess of Warwick (who had been one of my pupils before KING EDWARD’S JOKE 277 and after her marriage) at Warwick Castle, the late King Edward, then Prince of Wales, was a guest there. It was soon after the event of the centenary of the Royal Masonic Boys’ School took place at the Albert Hall, followed by a grand banquet at which the Prince had presided and the enormous sum of £141,208 was sub- scribed. I took the liberty of congratulating H.R.H. on the success which had been achieved under his presidency, and he seemed much pleased by my remarks, and took them very graciously. I had engaged Miss Clara Butt for the concert at Warwick Castle, and when it was over the Prince of Wales called me and said, ‘ Mr. Ganz, Miss Clara Butt is ready to take you under her mantle when you go away!” Everybody laughed at this, Madame Butt being immensely tall and I rather a small man; so I walked up to her, but she did not take me under her mantle. We drove back to Leamington to the hotel, as the castle was full of guests and there was no room for the artists. I have stayed several times at Warwick Castle, and arranged musical parties there for Lady Warwick. It is, as everybody knows, a magnificent old place, full of art-treasures, well- ‘known to connoisseurs in this country, and often exhibited at the Winter Galleries in London. My wife and I received invitations to the Royal Garden Party, at Windsor Castle, in 278 RECOLLECTIONS OF KING EDWARD, ETC. 1908. Thousands of well-known people were there, and it was most enjoyable. At about five o’clock King Edward and Queen Alexandra, and other members of the Royal Family, with their special guests, walked down from the castle terrace in a procession to the tents, where they partook of tea, next to the royal tent being one in which were the Indian Rajahs and foreign Princes. Later on the Queen walked in the garden, near to where I was standing, and when she saw me she stopped and shook hands with me and said how sorry she was that she could not come to my Jubilee Concert (which had taken place the previous May), but she had heard how well it had gone off. Then the King saw me and beckoned me to him and said, in German, that he was very glad to hear that my concert had been such a great success and congratulated me on the event. The following year I met His Majesty again, at Stafford House, when, in passing me, he graciously shook hands with me and said, ‘‘ Wie geht es Ihnen?” (How do you do?) That, alas! was the last time I saw the King to speak to; he looked the picture of health, and no one could have imagined that he would die the following year, to the great grief of the whole nation, by whom he was universally beloved. The occasion on which I met him at Stafford House was when the Duchess of Sutherland, AUGUSTUS HARRIS 279 now Duchess Millicent, held her annual ex- hibition of Scotch homespuns. That afternoon the King and Queen had a children’s party at Buckingham Palace to celebrate the birthday of one of the young Princesses; but King Edward would not disappoint the Duchess, and with characteristic kindness of heart came to her garden party before his own. Before Sir Augustus (then Mr.) Harris became manager of the Covent Garden Theatre, he started Italian Opera at Drury Lane. That was in 1886, and I remember one evening on which a grand opera (I think it was Faust) was given, at which I was present, when Ella Russell, Jean and Edouard de Reszke, and other good artists sang. Harris was sitting in the stalls immediately in front of me, and, turning round, said to me in a despondent way : “‘ Ganz, look at this empty house ! ”” With such good singers he felt quite dis- couraged, but he had his reward later on. After Signor Lago, who was then the director of Covent Garden Opera, had given up its manage- ment, Harris stepped in and became the director of the Royal Italian Opera, which title he changed and called it the Royal Opera. Then Jean de Reszke became one of the greatest favourites of the season, creating a sensation as Faust, Romeo, and Siegfried, and he and his brother Edouard drew splendid houses, Harris 280 RECOLLECTIONS OF KING EDWARD, ETC. was the first to break with old traditions and give operas in the languages in which they were written. It was many years, however, before the fashion of giving all operas at Covent Garden in the Italian language was finally abandoned. The Meistersingers in the nineties was usually played in Italian (certainly with great advantage from the vocal point of view, with such artists as the two de Reszkes and Lassalle). There was a transitional stage when the leading parts in German Opera were sung in German, while the chorus still relied upon their native Italian. In the first act of Lohengrin one heard cries of “* Der Schwann!” intermingled with “Il Cygno!”’ Sir Augustus Harris engaged the best artists, such as Melba, Calvé, and Emma Eames, and I ought not to omit to mention that he persuaded Madame Patti, after her retirement from the operatic stage, to sing in several of her favourite operas the réles which she sang with so much charm. They were La Traviata, and Rosina in the Barbiere di Seviglia, and Zerlina in Don Giovanni, all of which were exquisitely sung by this great singer, and created the same furore as they did in former years. Another prima donna followed Patti in sing- ing La Traviata, Madame Sembrich, who had come fresh from her American triumphs ; but she could not eclipse Madame Patti, notwithstand- ing her fine singing. I ENGAGE PAULINE JORAN 281 ' Harris produced Pagliacci and many other favourite operas. He did his best to give the best performances, and he succeeded. He was also a genius in theatrical matters, and carried on the pantomime and Drury Lane dramas in a sumptuous manner, in which he has been worthily succeeded by Mr. Arthur Collins. He also originated the annual receptions on the stage on Twelfth Night, when the Baddeley Cake is cut. I was on the stage one morning during a re- hearsal when Harris lost his temper, and, turn- ing to me, said in great wrath, ‘‘ These prima donnas drive me absolutely mad ; but you'll see, I shall be a tyrant.” Of course he was nothing of the sort, being a most kind, good-natured man; but he had a quick temper. Poor “* Druriolanus !’’ He died comparatively young, and had done a great deal for music during his life. His widow became the wife of the popular actor, Edward Terry. Some years ago I became a member of the New Meistersingers’ Club, in St. James’s Street, and arranged the musical soirées, for which I generally engaged a good number of artists, and at which I introduced some débutantes who had been specially recommended to me, one of these being Miss Pauline Joran. She played some violin solos very well, and a few days later I examined her voice and discovered that she possessed a lovely soprano; so I suggested to her 282 RECOLLECTIONS OF KING EDWARD, ETC. that she should give up her violin-playing and take to the operatic stage, especially as she was very good-looking and had a beautiful figure. She followed my advice, and, through my re- commendation, was engaged by the Carl Rosa Company for the réle of Beppo in L’Amico Fritz, in which she had to sing and play the violin at the same time; so her violin-playing came in very useful. She had a great success, and, later on, was engaged by Sir Augustus Harris as one of his prima donnas, at Covent Garden, where she appeared as Margherita in Faust, as Carmen, and in other operas. She married Baron de Bush, and consequently gave up her operatic career. Unfortunately, the Baron was killed by falling out of a railway carriage while going to Scotland, and thus ended the happy married life of poor Pauline de Bush, who has, however, a sweet little daughter, also named Pauline, left to comfort her. Another débutant I engaged for the soirées of the Meistersingers’ Club was M. Maurice Farkoa. He sang French songs which pleased the audience immensely. Later on he went on the stage, and sang humorous songs, which he does to perfection, both in French and English, and he has become a great favourite in society and at the theatre. At the opening of the Meistersingers I gave an orchestral Wagner Concert, and engaged a good band. We performed the Meistersinger SIR FREDERICK BRIDGE 283 overture and other extracts from Wagner’s works. Unfortunately, the club did not pay expenses, and its proprietor and manager, Colonel Wortham, was obliged to close its doors. This was a great pity, because it was a pleasant rendezvous for artists and their friends, especi- ally on Sunday evenings, when they could gather at the Club and listen to the concerts. The building is now called the Royal Society’s Club. Speaking of clubs, I was also a member of the Arts Club in Hanover Square for many years, Henry Leslie having proposed me; but I found it dreadfully dull, as hardly any musical people belonged to it except Signor Randegger and Mr. Sutherland Edwards, the littérateur and musical critic, and Mr. Stanley Lucas; so eventually I left it. A much-esteemed friend of mine is Sir Frederick Bridge, who now conducts the Oratorio Concerts of the Royal Choral Society at the Royal Albert Hall—‘‘ Westminster Bridge,’ as he is playfully called by his brother musicians— the worthy successor of the late lamented Sir Joseph Barnby, who, unfortunately, died in the prime of life, and at the height of his musical career. In the Coronation year (1911) Sir Frederick, although very busy, paid me a lengthy visit, telling me all his arrangements about the Coronation music, his difficulties with some of the officials—which he happily smoothed over— 284 RECOLLECTIONS OF KING EDWARD, ETC. and the proposed programme, in which he gave some of the best English composers an oppor- tunity of being performed. He also told me about his own compositions, and how he had introduced Luther’s hymn, “Ein feste Burg ist unser Gott,” into one of his anthems. He said he would send me an invitation to hear the rehearsal at St. Margaret’s Church, which he did; but, unfortunately, I could not avail myself of his kindness, as I was not well enough to go. Bridge had. invited no end of artists to supplement the choir, amongst whom was Edward Lloyd, who, of course, had retired from public life, but who sang a small solo. He told Bridge that, as he began his musical career as a choir-boy at the Abbey, he wanted to finish it in the same holy building. Madame Mathilde Marchesi was, without doubt, the greatest lady teacher of singing during the last century. Her pupils who have become fa- mous include Melba, Calvé, Nevada, Gabrielle Krauss, Marie Duma, Esther Palliser, Emma Eames, Susanne Adams, Frances Saville, Sybil Sanderson, and Etelka Gerster. I knew her when she was in London in the fifties, and her name then was Fraulein Mathilde Graumann, and I often accompanied her at concerts at which she was singing. She had a mezzo- soprano voice. She married the Marquis Salva- tore (Castrone), who sang here in English opera, and: he was the first to sing ‘“‘ Mephistopheles ” THE MARCHESIS 285 in Faust, and became very famous in operas, as well as a concert singer. They settled after- wards in Paris, where Madame Marchesi followed her profession of singing-teacher, till recently. Her husband died in 1908. She has a worthy representative in her daugh- ter, Madame Blanche Marchesi, who. has fol- lowed in the footsteps of her distinguished mother, and has become one of the most popu- lar teachers of singing in London. She is a most versatile artist, and speaks ever so many languages. Her greatest successes have been gained in the dramatic parts of Wagner’s operas, which she has sung in England and on the Continent, causing quite a sensation. Her vocal recitals here are most interesting, and she has brought to light old forgotten classi- cal songs. She excels in all styles, and it is a great pleasure to watch the changing expression of her face when singing songs of many different characters. She married a Corsican nobleman, the Baron Caccamisi, who is a great lover of art, and their charming house at Kilburn contains a wonderful collection of souvenirs of. all the great artists of bygone and present days, such aS composers, singers, instrumentalists, and other distinguished personalities, and also some splendid engravings of famous singers in their various operatic rdles. Madame Mathilde Marchesi has now left. Paris and has settled here. 286 MADAME PUZZI I must not forget to mention Madame Gia- cinta Puzzi, generally known by her Italian friends as ““ Mamma Puzzi.” She was an emi- nent teacher of the old Italian operatic school of singing, and her house was the rendezvous, and second home, of all the Italian operatic stars over here. She was always ready to give them good advice in their difficulties with their managers, and generally smoothed things over by her tact and savoir-faire. On Sunday afternoon the drawing-room was full of musical celebrities, and it was also very pleasant to meet all the new operatic arrivals at her house. For many years she and her husband, Signor Giacomo Puzzi, made the engagements for Benjamin Lumley, the director of Her Majesty’s Theatre, among these being Mile Piccolomini and Signor Giuglini. Their three daughters, Emilia (Bini), Fanny, and Giulia, helped their mother to keep open house after their father’s death, and to entertain the numberless visitors. ‘When I felt out of sorts I used to go there, and very soon regained my equilibrium and felt happy and contented once more in their congenial society. ‘*Mamma Puzzi”’ was an extraordinary woman, full of high spirits and cheerfulness. Since her death there has been no one in the musical world who can quite fill her place. She often spoke of the old times when she heard such great stars as Pasta, Persiani, Rubini, Tam- HASTY NEWS 287 burini, and Malibran, and to me it was always most interesting to hear her memories of these giants of bygone days. One is perhaps sometimes rather heedless in expressing an interest in a forthcoming appear- ance of an artist at a concert in the provinces. I remember one singer who showed her gratitude by sending me a telegram from Manchester after the concert, which was delivered at my house long after midnight, and contained this interesting information : ‘‘ Grosse succés, Hallé entziickt”’ (Great success. Hallé delighted). The late Dr. Francis Hueffer, critic of The Times, told me that, on one occasion, he was knocked up by a special messenger at his house in Brook Green at two o’clock in the morning. After paying a special fee for the telegram, which had been brought from the General Post Office, he opened it to find: ‘‘ First act of the opera just over; had immense success. Will telegraph to you again at the end of the opera.” He hastened to inform the messenger that he needn’t bring him any more telegrams that night, as he would not take them in. Singers, conductors, and accompanists need plenty of sang-froid when they are on the plat- form. I remember once, when I was at Man- chester on the occasion of the opening of the New Victoria Music-hall, an incident happened which illustrates this. Madame Parepa, one of the artists, was singing ‘‘ On Mighty Pens” from 20 288 A SCARE AT. MANCHESTER the Creation, when, all of a sudden, there was a loud crack like the firing of a pistol, and some- one shouted out “‘ Fire!” Up jumped the large audience, and there was a sudden stampede, the occupants of the pit and stalls trying to reach the stage over the orchestra. I got up from the piano, where I was accompanying, and rushed to Madame Parepa, holding her arm so that she could not move, and waved my other hand to the audience to keep them back. Seeing us both still on the stage, they hesitated and remained quiet, and so a panic was avoided ; but had we both left the platform many would have been crushed in their frantic endeavours to gain an out- let from the hall. There was no fire; what had really happened was only the cracking of a long wooden bench on which some people were stand- ing, and which gave way. After that excitement the concert went calmly on, and we congratulated ourselves that no misfortune had happened: Accompanists must, of course, be ready to transpose music and read anything at sight, and I have found my knowledge of foreign lan- guages is also most valuable in order to be able ‘to follow singers when they lose their places. Accompanists should remember that they will probably be assumed to be at fault if anything goes wrong. I remember, once, when a well- known violinist skipped a whole page in a Handel sonata; I at once picked him up, and he wasn’t even aware of what had happened. CHAPTER XVI CHARITY CONCERTS AND DINNERS Royal concert for the restoration of Kew Church—H.R.H. Prin- cess Mary, Duchess of Teck—An array of stars—Concert at the German Embassy—The Crown Prince Frederick William’s thoughtfulness—Lady Lansdowne’s concert—I go to Paris to get M. Alvarez—A “kidnapped” singer—Charity dinners—The German Hospital dinner—Royal General Theatrical Fund—Dinners—Middlesex Hospital—The Throat Hospital—The Newspaper Press Fund—My foreign orders— Mr. Bernal Osborne, M.P.—False hopes—Some curious mistakes. Tuis is a great country for charity in all its phases; there is no other country in the world where so much money is subscribed for good causes, and in my long career I have assisted at a great many charity concerts. My first ex- perience of a London charity concert was at Drury Lane Theatre on March 17th, 1853, St. Patrick’s Day, when an entertainment was given in aid of the London District Letter Carriers’ Pension and Widows’ and Orphans’ Annuity Society. I give this interesting play-bill of a charitable entertainment in which I took part in the year 1853 which I must value. It was, as I said, in aid of the funds of the London District Letter 289 290 CHARITY CONCERTS AND DINNERS Carriers’ Pension and Widows’ and Orphans’ Annuity Society. The programme was a very long one. First came Tobin’s comedy The Honeymoon, played by Her Majesty’s servants, including Mr. Daven- port and Miss Fanny Vining. This was fol- lowed by a grand concert in which Miss Poole and Miss Messent sang English songs, and Signor and Madame Lablache operatic excerpts. I was announced, in the quaint phrase of the day, ‘“* Herr W. Ganz will preside at Kirkman’s Grand Piano Forte.”? Then came the clow of the enter- tainment : MR. RICHARD SANDS' GREAT ANTIPODAL EXPERIMENT, As Demonstrated by him at the New York Amphitheatre, WALKING ACROSS THE CEILING WITH HIS FEET UP and HEAD DOWNWARDS. The Entertainment concluded with an Oriental Spectacle, entitled, The TURKISH LOVERS The characters in which were Abdallah, Selim, Scamp, Captain Tandem, Loo-loo, Shireen, and Bustle. In the course of the Spectacle, a H.R.H. THE DUCHESS OF TECK 291 GRAND BALLET PAS NEAPOLITAIN by Misses SHarp and SMITH. PAS DE FASCINATION by Miss ADA MoNnTGOMERY. GRAND PAS DE SCHAL By Mademoiselle Juiz and the whole of the Corps de Ballet. All this was to be seen at oe REDUCED PRICES! Stalls, 4s. Dress Boxes, 8s. Pit, 2s. Gallery, 1s. Upper Gallery, 6d. Second Price—Boxes, 1s. 6d. Pit, 1s. Lower Gallery, 6d. Private Boxes, £1 Is. and £2 2s. No Second Price to Stalls or Upper Gallery. VIVAT REGINA The ‘Great Antipodal Experiment ” was, I rather think, the chief attraction ! In 18838 I was asked by H.R.H. the late Duchess of Teck to help her in getting up a concert for the restoration of Kew Parish Church, and it took place at St. James’s Hall on May 31st. The Duchess herself wrote to most of the artists and lady patronesses, and worked day and night for the concert. She frequently came to my house in Harley Street to attend the committee meetings, and my wife always pro- vided tea for her. She greatly enjoyed the tea, especially the brown bread and butter, which 292 CHARITY CONCERTS AND DINNERS she told me she liked immensely, and she took a great fancy to one of my arm-chairs, a low, com- fortable one, and always sat in it during the meetings, and was delightfully unceremonious. I often visited her at Kensington Palace, where she was then living, and she complained to me of the way in which the Government made her pay for coals and other necessities, which I sup- pose had in former years been freely granted to her. We also had a committee meeting at Devonshire House, under her presidency, at which the Duchess of Devonshire, the late Countess of Rosebery, and other lady patronesses were present, and I was much struck by the splendid, business-like way in which these ladies carried out every detail. On that occasion the Duchess read aloud a letter from Queen Victoria, in which the Queen addressed her as ‘‘ Dearest Mary,” and said she would take some tickets and wished the concert every possible success. This wish was fulfilled, for it realised over £1,100, and the agents and some artists told me afterwards that it spoilt the other concerts of the season by taking away so much money.! What would these fault-finders have said in these days, when so many charity concerts are constantly being arranged, and large sums collected ? The concert was under the patronage of the Queen, the Prince and Princess of Wales, and other members of the Royal Family, most of AT THE GERMAN EMBASSY 2938 whom were present, and the following great artists took part: Madame Albani, Madame Trebelli, Madame Alwina Valleria, Madame Patey, Madame Christine Nilsson, Miss Agnes Larkcom, Mr. Sims Reeves, Mr. Edward Lloyd, Signor Foli, Mr. Bernard Lane, Mr. Barrmgton Foote, and Mr. Frederick King. The instru- mentalists were : Madame Norman Neruda, Mr. Charles Hallé, and Mr. Franz Neruda, the brother of Madame Neruda. Signor Tosti ac- companied one of his popular songs, and apart from this great array of artists we had an additional attraction in Sir Henry (then Mr.) Irving, so no wonder the hall was crowded, and nearly the whole of the hundred and four patro- nesses were present. I conducted the whole concert, and received the gracious thanks of the Duchess, who was delighted with the result. Another great charity concert with which I was associated took place at the German Em- bassy, in Carlton House Terrace, and was arranged by me for the late Prince (then Count) Miinster, who was then German Ambassador. It was in aid of the families of the officers and sailors of the German battleship, Der grosse Kurfiirst, which foundered off Dover with all hands on board, and it took place in the year 1878. The Crown Prince Frederick William and the Crown Princess of Prussia, the Princess Royal of England, were present, and when the Imperial 294 CHARITY CONCERTS AND DINNERS visitors arrived and walked through the corridor leading to the concert-room Count Minster introduced me to the Crown Prince, who said in German, “Sie sind wohl gar ein Berliner Kind?” (You are, no doubt, a Berlin child ?) and I replied that I was not, but came from Mainz. He said he knew my name through my uncles, Leopold and Moritz Ganz, in Berlin. Just as the concert was about to begin the Crown Prince noticed that, as I sat at the piano, the sun was shining into my face through the window, and thoughtfully pulled down the blind, and, later on, when I was opening the top of the grand piano he got up immediately and came and helped me. The following artists assisted on this occasion: Madame Etelka Gerster, Madame Trebelli, Herr Henschel, 'Wil- liam Shakespeare, and Charles Hallé. Another memorable charity concert. took place at Covent Garden Theatre on February 22nd, 1900, in aid of the widows and families of the officers who fell in the Boer War. The concert was organised by the Marchioness of Lans- downe, whose husband was then the Secretary for War. Mr. Alfred de Rothschild took an active part in the arrangements, and asked Madame Patti to give her services, which she at once did. He consulted with me about everything, and; as we wanted a good operatic tenor, and there was none available, he suggested that I should go to Paris and see if I could obtain A KIDNAPPED TENOR 295 the help of M. Alvarez. I accordingly went to Paris the following morning, and in the evening went to the opera, where Faust was being per- formed, and was shown into the director’s box, where I met M. Gailhard and M. Capoul, whom I had known from meeting them in London. M. Jean de Reszke, whom I knew well, was also in the box. During the interval I spoke about Alvarez, and M. Gailhard said he had no objec- tion to his singing, and I had better telegraph him to New York, where he was then singing. I accordingly sent Alvarez a long wire asking him to appear in a scene from Roméo et Juliette with Madame Patti, and asked his terms. The same evening I received a wire from him in which he said he would be most happy to sing without any fee, as the English public had always been very kind to him. Next day I showed the wire to M. Gailhard, who, however, made some objection to Alvarez singing in London, as the Parisian public wanted him first when he returned from America. I wrote to Mr. Alfred de Rothschild telling him the difficulty, and when I saw him in London on my return he said he would send a confidential clerk to ‘‘kidnap ”’ Alvarez and bring him over to London, which he succeeded in accomplishing ! I had engaged a very good orchestra, which I conducted. The scene from Roméo et Juliette with the ‘‘ Alouette’? duet, was the clouw of the evening, and everything went off well. The con- 296 CHARITY CONCERTS AND DINNERS cert was a huge success; all the tickets were sold and the boxes fetched as much as a hundred guineas, and the stalls ten guineas. The sum- total was £11,000: such a large amount has never been collected through any other single concert. When it was over supper was served in the foyer of the opera. A large round table was reserved for the Prince of Wales, at which he graciously invited M. Alvarez and me to sit. Lady Lansdowne afterwards presented me with a gold cigarette-case, with a diamond star in the corner, inscribed as follows : ROYAL OPERA-HOUSE, COVENT GARDEN s* CONCERT Given on the 22nd Feb., 1900 PRESENTED TO WILHELM GANZ WITH THE MOST GRATEFUL THANKS OF THE MARCHIONESS OF LANSDOWNE'S COMMITTEE, THE OFFICERS’ WIVES AND FAMILIES FUND Ss. A. WAR General Herbert Eaton told me afterwards that, while Madame Patti was singing, the soldiers on the stage cut holes in the drop-scene in order to peep through and see her. The National Anthem was sung by Madame Patti and Mr. Edward Lloyd, and the orchestra and a military band accompanied the chorus. Another big concert which I arranged was given in the summer of 1890 for the benefit of HOSPITAL DINNERS 297 the Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children; a society in which Princess Mary, Duchess of Teck, took a great personal interest. As a result of the concert a sum of £876 5s. 3d. was handed over to the Executive Committee. I also arranged a great entertainment in July 1904 in aid of the Ophthalmic Hospital of the Order of St. John at Jerusalem, at His Majesty’s Theatre. Among the artists were Madame Albani, Ben Davies, Kubelik, and Madame Ada Crossley. Then there are the charity dinners, at which large sums of money are collected. I have assisted with musical entertainments at many of them ; for instance, the annual dinners in aid of the German Hospital at Dalston, of which the late Duke of Cambridge was President for many years, and presided at the annual dinners every second year. I have had no difficulty in getting the assist- ance of first-rate English and foreign artists. At these dinners I always had books of the words, with full programmes, which is often a troublesome affair, as it is difficult to get the titles and words of the songs beforehand from the artists. I have arranged the music at these dinners for at least fifty years, twenty years with Sir Julius Benedict, and afterwards alone, and one of the standing toasts given by the chairman is to the health of the artists, with best. thanks for their kind services and coupling 298 CHARITY CONCERTS AND DINNERS my name, to which I have always had to make a suitable reply. Another annual dinner is that in aid of the Royal General Theatrical Fund, at which all the well-known actors, such as Irving, Toole, Ban- croft, Hare, and Alexander have presided, as well as politicians and other friends of the theatrical profession. For many years I have arranged the music at these dinners, and also at those of the Newspaper Press Fund (of which Lord Glenesk was president and was succeeded by Lord Burnham), and the German Society of Benevolence. The dinners given in aid of the Middlesex Hospital I often attended, and gave them a good musical entertainment, and for several years I helped at the dinners given by Sir Morell Mackenzie in aid of the Throat Hospital in Golden Square, which he built and. equipped, where we generally had a galaxy of singers. I also frequently assisted in getting up the musical soirées of the Austro-Hungarian Franz Joseph Institute, at which Count Mensdorff always presided. I have received several Orders from foreign sovereigns, one of which is the Order of the Crown of Prussia, bestowed upon me by the Emperor 'Wilhelm I, on December 12th, 1881, as a recompense for the work I had done for the German Hospital and the German Society of Benevolence by arranging the music at their MY ORDERS 299 dinners for so many years. Count Minster, the German Ambassador, presented it to me. Then I received from the present Emperor, Wilhelm II, the Prussian Order of the Red Eagle, Fourth Class, presented to me by Count John Bernstorff, who represented the German Ambassador after the death of Count Hatzfeld. The Austrian Emperor, Francis Joseph, hon- oured me by giving me the Franz Joseph Order, presented to me by His Excellency Count Mens- dorff, the present Austro-Hungarian Ambassa- dor, and King Oscar of Sweden presented me, through his Minister, Count Lowenhaupt, with the Order of Wasa, First Class. The late Duke Ernest of Saxe-Coburg gave me the Order of the Ernestiner-Sachsischer Family House Order of Saxe-Coburg and Gotha of the high rank of First Class, and I am very proud of being the possessor of these distinguished Orders. A well-known politician I used to meet occa- sionally was the late Mr. Bernal Osborne, M.P., a popular wit of his day. I remember urging him to propose a vote of money for the Royal Academy of Music and kindred institutions, but he said the English were not sufficiently musical to be encouraged by Government support. We had a hot argument, as I held quite contrary views, and I flatly contradicted him and gave him my reasons, which I need not specify here. Many years ago I had the same argument with 800 CHARITY CONCERTS AND DINNERS the Right Hon. Robert Lowe, of “ Lucifer Matches ’’ fame, who was then Chancellor of the Exchequer. In both cases my plea came to nothing. I had another talk with Bernal Osborne at Mrs. Ronalds’s on musical subjects, and he still maintained, as he always did, that the English are not a musical nation, and we had another argument about it. As a case in point, when Patti, Titiens, Nilsson, Trebelli, and the latest star, Tetrazzini, appeared at the opera here for the first time, they were always at once appre- ciated, without preliminary puffs. The English orchestral players read music at sight better than their confréres on the Continent, and abroad, when a new opera is produced, no end of rehearsals are needed before it is ready for production ; while here only a few orchestral re- hearsals are required to obtain a good result. I find the following note in my diary, apropos of the chorus at Her Majesty’s in 1851 : “The chorus is very strong. The women, mostly English, read excellently at sight, and the men are German, Italian, French and English, the last of whom could be reckoned the best musically.” When Faust and Carmen were first produced in Paris they were a failure, and Gounod had the greatest difficulty in getting a publisher to buy his Faust for the English copyright. When both these operas were performed here under Gye ENGLAND IS A MUSICAL NATION _ 3801 and Mapleson at Covent Garden and at Her Majesty’s Theatre they were an instantaneous success. So who can say the English are not a musical nation ? . Mrs. Ronalds’s musical parties on Sunday afternoons at her pretty house in Cadogan Square are well known, and she is a true friend to musicians. I first met her at Witley Court, Lord Dudley’s house, where she sang most beautifully, having a very fine soprano voice. Sullivan composed and dedicated his “‘ St. Agnes Eve” to her, and I accompanied her in it, and in all the rest of her songs. At her Sunday musical parties some of the best artists from the opera are frequently heard, and she also gives the chance of a hearing to young American artists (she being herself an American) and other promising singers. I often regret the musical receptions given by Sir Julius Benedict and Sir Charles Hallé, where musical people had an opportunity of meeting one another. There is nothing quite like them nowadays. I have before referred to the fact that the musical schools and academies, with their good and inexpensive teaching, have almost done away with private pupils. This brings me to the change in the style of vocal music taught at the present day. Formerly, artists sang mostly Italian cava- tinas and songs from Italian, French, and Ger- 302 FALSE HOPES man operas; but now these are seldom heard. One very seldom hears trios and quartettes from Italian or other operas, or concerted music at soirées and “‘At Homes,” with the exception of the ever-popular quartette from Rigoletto. I have asked concert singers who have come to me for engagements whether they knew this or that duet or trio, and their reply is generally in the negative. I have often been asked to hear young singers and be useful to them, and, in examining them, I have found out that hardly any of them are capable of singing scales or shakes. Not long ago a lady came to me to hear her voice. When she entered my study I could not help noticing her appearance; she was short and stout, and not at all prepossessing in any way. That would not have mattered if her voice had been good, or she had sung well. I heard her sing a few ballads, which she sang wretchedly. She said she was forty-two, and that she wanted to enter the musical profession. She added that she had been for four years under a master, who had told her she could easily earn four pounds a day by concert singing. I at once disillusioned her and told her she had better give up all idea of singing in public; and then she departed, very despondently. Poor woman! it was a nasty task to have to disap- point her; but it would have been far more cruel to have raised her hopes, SOME CURIOUS MISTAKES 303 I have often had to disappoint young artists by telling them their voices were not what they thought them—contraltos saying they were sopranos, and baritones calling themselves tenors. Their professors had humoured them by falling in with their ideas. This reminds me that a young lady once came to me bringing me the usual letter of introduction and sang the air, ‘“‘ With Verdure Clad,”’ from the Creation. Her high notes were very flat, and she said they made her throat sore. I at once knew the cause, and asked her to sing a scale very slowly, singing downward and finishing at the low G. As she sang, the lower notes, beginning from the middle register, were perfect notes from the chest, and really beautiful. I then told her she was a con- tralto, and that her voice was of true con- tralto timbre—certainly not a high soprano, to which category ‘‘ With Verdure Clad ” belonged. I advised her to go on studying as a contralto, and she accepted my advice and later on became a well-known artiste. It has so often happened, too, that “‘ tenors ”’ who came to me could not reach the high notes properly, because, being really high baritones, they forced their voices and sang flat, as well as getting their throats constantly out of order. Nowadays English artists do not change their names as they did formerly by Italianising them, as, for instance, Signor Foli did, his real 21 804 TRICKS name being Foley. Now they are proud of their nationality. Voice-training is taught on sounder lines, and although there is not much evidence of the traditions of the ‘“ bel-canto ”’ school, yet our methods tend to bring out any charm there is in the pupil’s voice. At the same time, there are always drawbacks. It is unfair to expect professors to give a satisfactory lesson in twenty minutes, which is the usual length of the lessons at some of the academies. Again, vocal students are led away by such tricks as singing on a particular tone, or singing a scale with interludes of counting between the notes to take breath, or lying down flat on the floor to learn breathing. All these tricks tend to ruin the young voice, and I must caution young singers against having their upper notes forced. Besides, they ought to be trained from the be- ginning to learn the ABC of the art, the scales and intervals. Far be it from me to suggest that the tricks I have mentioned are learnt at the academies; but they are too often taught by private masters. I remember a young singer who had a beau- tiful production and method of ‘singing, telling me that when he first came over from abroad he found great difficulty in getting anything to do, until, one day, he called upon a fashionable teacher of singing, who no sooner heard him than he said, ‘“‘'Will you be my show pupil ? I will give you £3 a week.” CHAPTER XVII MY JUBILEE CONCERTS, ETC. My Jubilee Concert in 1898—Dinner at Lord Blyth’s—My Diamond Jubilee Concert—Lady Bancroft’s speech—Signa- tures in the autograph album—Recollections of Charles Kean—Other great English actors. I GAvE a Jubilee Concert to celebrate my fifty years’ residence in England. It took place at the Queen’s Hall, June 7th, 1898, and was a tremendous success. When first the idea struck me that I might venture to give such a concert I thought I would ask my dear friend, Madame Adelina Patti, to assist me, and I therefore called on her at the Hotel Cecil and told her about the con- cert. She at once consented to sing, and I was overjoyed at her generosity. The Prince and Princess of Wales and the other members of the Royal Family gave their patronage to the concert, and a representative honorary committee was formed. My brother and sister artists all came forward to show their friendship for me. The morning of the concert I visited Madame Patti at her hotel and brought her a silver vase, 305 306 MY JUBILEE CONCERTS, ETC. which made her shed tears of emotion, and to commemorate the occasion she gave me a silver paper-knife, and her two faithful attendants, Karo and Patro, also gave me silver presents, which I greatly appreciated. The hall was crowded, and all the tickets were sold. There were so many wonderful hats worn by the ladies present that the hall looked like a garden of roses. The concert began with an organ solo, played by Mr. Tonking, and Madame Patti had a great reception. Being in mourning, she wore black, with beautiful diamonds. She first sang “ Bel Raggio’’ from Semiramide, and her second song was my ‘“ Nightingale’s Trill,” and then, as an encore, ‘‘ Home, Sweet Home,” followed by ‘Comin’ thro’ the Rye.” Mlle Marie Engle, from Covent Garden, sang my song ‘‘ Sing, Sweet Bird,”’ and had to repeat it, and also the duet “‘ Sull’aria’’ from Le Nozze di Figaro, with my daughter Georgina, which was encored. Miss Clara Butt had met with a car- riage accident a short time before, and although not quite recovered she was determined to sing for me, and gave my song “ Forget me not,” which she had to repeat. Unfortunately, she was so overcome by the exertion that she fainted when entering the artists’ room; but so far recovered that later on she sang ‘‘ Oh that we two were Maying,”’ with Mr. Kennerley Rumford. Miss Ada Crossley sang ‘‘ Caro mio ben” to perfection, and Madame Blanche Marchesi sang CONCERT IN 1898 307 three songs in her own incomparable way. Madame Alice Gomez, Madame Giulia Ravogli, Signor Ancona, Mr. Edward Lloyd, Mr. Ben Davies, and my old friend Santley also sang, and I played Mendelssohn’s concert in G minor with quintette accompaniment by M. Johannes Wolff, Mr. Lewis, Mr. Emil Kreuz, M. Hollman, and Mr. Haydn Waud. Sir Charles Wyndham and Miss Mary Moore, Mr. Cyril Maude and Miss Winifred Emery recited, and my son Charles sang the serenade from Tschaikowsky’s Don Juan. My old friend, George Grossmith, gave some of his musical sketches, and at the end of the concert I had to make a speech, in which I thanked Madame Patti and the other artists for their generous help, and said I felt deeply grateful to the English people, who, during a period of fifty years, had been so kind to me in my musical undertakings. After this little speech I played two pianoforte pieces of my own. I don’t think there was ever a concert in which so many world-renowned and celebrated artists took part, and I must not forget the conductors and accompanists, Signor Alberto Randegger, Mr. Wilhelm Kuhe, Mr. Sewell, and Mr. Bendall. Lord Blyth (then Sir James) gave two dinner- parties at his house, 33, Portland Place, in my honour on that and the following evening, at which Madame Patti, all the artists, and a most distinguished company were present, the guests numbering forty at each dinner. 808 MY JUBILEE CONCERTS, ETC. When I had resided sixty years in this country I celebrated the event by giving a Diamond Jubilee Concert, and again Madame Patti most generously consented to sing. I also obtained the kind services of Madame Donalda, Miss Evangeline Florence, Madame Ada Crossley, Mr. Ben Davies, Mr. Gregory Hast, Mr. John McCormack, M. Edouard de Reszke (who, un- happily, was ill and not able to appear), Mr. Hamilton Earle, Mischa Elman, Miss Irene Van- brugh, Mr. Lewis Waller, Miss Margaret Cooper, and Mr. George Grossmith. My son Charles also sang for me. The conductors were Mr. Hamilton Harty, Mr. Adolph Mann, and myself. Her Majesty Queen Alexandra and the rest of the Royal Family gave me their patronage, and H.R.H. Princess Henry of Battenberg was present. Madame Patti sang ‘‘ Voi che sapete”’ and “‘ Pur Dicesti,’’ and when I began the first few familiar bars of ‘“‘ Home, Sweet Home,” the whole audi- ence rose and thundered their applause. I played the first movement of Beethoven’s C minor Concerto with quintette accompaniment and at the end of the concert my new ‘“ Adelina Valse,” which I had just written and dedicated to Madame Patti. Between Part I and Part II Lady Bancroft came forward with Madame Adelina Patti, all the artists, and the members of Executive Committee, and presented me with an album of autographs. DIAMOND JUBILEE CONCERT 309 LADY BANCROFT’S SPEECH AT MY JUBILEE CONCERT She began, “I am not going to make a speech, but will read you a letter.” ** HONOURED AND MUCH-LOVED FRIEND,” Here Lady Bancroft paused, and, looking up at the grand circle where my wife was sitting, said, “‘ Don’t be jealous, dear,’? and then con- tinued : “I am here to perform a most delightful duty. I have to congratulate you on your Diamond Jubilee, and to present to you, on behalf of the committee, a beautiful album, which contains the autographs of distinguished sincere admirers and affectionate friends. “Tt is a tribute to you, not only as an artist who has lived amongst us for sixty years in this, your adopted country, but as a man who has won the hearts of every one by a kind and genial nature. ““In the midst of your own hard work you have never been unmindful of the necessity of others. You have never been deaf to the calls of charity. You have ever been ready and anxious to lend a helping hand—I may say, two helping hands—and with your whole heart you have contributed your talent when a good cause presented itself. “Your gifted and sweet old friend has come from her retirement to give you a tribute of her affection—I mean, of course, Madame Patti, our well-beloved and never-to-be-forgotten Adelina. **’'You have been her companion in art for so many years that to see one without the other on the platform would have made one wonder. The nightingale and its attendant bird. I my- 310 MY JUBILEE CONCERTS, ETC. self have often heard you speak of her with adoration, and I know her love for you will endure whilst memory holds a place. “This will be a red-letter day in your re- membrance, and this book will be to you a treasured possession. It contains the autographs of most. distinguished personages, celebrated ar- tists, many of whom are here to-day to do you honour, and all good friends and well-wishers. It will be a joy to you to read it in years to come, and will be a proud inheritance for your family. And now let me offer you, in addition, my love, and God bless you. Auf Wiedersehen. And, in the words of Rip Van Winkle, ‘ Here’s your good health,’ and your family, and may you live long and prosper. ‘* Believe me to be ** Your affectionate old friend, ‘““MariE EFFie BANCROFT.” Naturally I felt quite overcome. Madame Patti, noticing this, came forward and kissed me on the cheek and placed a laurel wreath on my head, and Lady Bancroft also kissed me. I could only say a few words of thanks in reply. The audience cheered and sang “ He’s a jolly good fellow.” The album was signed by King Edward and Queen Alexandra, the present King and Queen, and all the members of the Royal Family, the Ambassadors, the Prime Minister (Mr. Asquith), Mr. Arthur Balfour, Lord Lansdowne, Lord Rosebery, the Speaker (Mr. Lowther), Lord Londonderry, Carrington, Cadogan, Derby, Selby, Alverstone, Cawdor, Dunraven, Mr, Henry THE AUTOGRAPH ALBUM 811 Chaplin, Mr. Lewis Harcourt, Mr. George Wynd- ham, Mr. Herbert Gladstone, Mr. Alfred Emmott, Field-Marshals Lord Roberts, Lord Grenfell, Sir Evelyn Wood, and Sir John French, the Duke of Devonshire, the Duke of Sutherland, Lords Londesborough, Kintore, Plymouth, Lonsdale, Esher, Howe, Blyth, Claud Hamilton, Arthur Hill, Burnham, Rothschild, and Mr. Alfred and Mr. Leopold de Rothschild, Lord Strathcona, Sir Ernest Cassel, Sir Frederick Milner, Sir Horace Rumbold, Sir Charles Mathews, Sir George Faudel Phillips, Baron F. d’Erlanger, Baron Schroeder, Sir Henry Mackinnon, Sir Robert Baden-Powell, Drs. Saint-Saéns, Max Bruch, Nikisch, W. H. Cummings, and Hans Richter, Sir F. Bridge, Sir Frederick Cowen, Prof. Leschetizky, Sir Douglas Powell, Sir William Church, Mr. Justin McCarthy, Sir F. Burnand, Mr. Anthony Hope, Sir Luke Fildes, Sir F. Carruthers Gould, Sir Douglas Straight, Sir W. S. Gilbert, Sir Arthur Pinero, Sir Charles Wynd- ham, Sir John Hare, Sir Squire Bancroft, Sir George Alexander, Sir H. Beerbohm Tree, and others too numerous to mention, as well as the artists who took part in the concerts. I have spoken of the great musical geniuses I have met since 1848. I ought also to mention some of the actors. ' I had the good fortune to be engaged in the orchestra at the Princess’s Theatre in Oxford Street when Charles Kean was the lessee and 312 CHARLES KEAN manager. I say good fortune, because it gave me the opportunity of seeing Kean act. He was, as all the world knows, a short, high- shouldered man, and he spoke a little through his nose ; but his acting was so wonderful that it overshadowed these defects. His wife, Mrs. Charles Kean, was, on the con- trary, a fine, tall woman, with a glorious and melodious voice, and her Lady Macbeth was, of course, historical. I remember a performance of King John in which Mr. Terry and his daughter Kate (sister of Miss Ellen Terry) took part; she played the part of little Prince Arthur most pathetically. In those days The Corsican Brothers, by Dion Boucicault, had made a great sensation, and all London rushed to see it. The incidental music was composed by M. Robert Stoepel, and there was one air in it—the ‘“‘ Ghost Melody ’”—that had a great effect when played pianissimo on the strings. Charles Kean played the double- réle of the brothers, Mr. Alfred Wigan the Mar- quis de Chateauneuve. Wigan was a fine actor, and in the Duel Scene he was splendid. The handsome Miss Murray was also in the cast. In Kean’s company was also Miss Agnes Robertson, who acted in Boucicault’s plays and became his wife. She was the original Colleen Bawn in his play of that name. Other members were the beautiful and clever Miss Carlotta Leclercq, Mr. John Ryder, Mr. Paul Bedford, Mr. VESTRIS AND MATHEWS 318 Harley, and Dion Boucicault. The incidental music for the Shakespearean dramas was com- posed by John Hatton and others. Kean used to arrange theatrical performances for Queen Victoria at Windsor; but he gave them up eventually. I believe I am the only person outside the theatrical world who remem- bers Kean’s splendid season of Shakespeare at the Princess’s. He was followed by Sir Henry Irving and Sir Herbert Tree, whose productions of Shakespeare’s works have certainly eclipsed all that have gone before them. I have seen on the stage, about 1848, the wonderful Madame Vestris and Mr. Charles Mathews. I knew Mathews personally ; he was a great genius, and, curiously enough, acted in French both here and in Paris without being able to speak that language. I know this for a fact. In some of his own pieces, such as Chatter versus Patter he spoke at an extraordinary rate. I also remember Fechter, who had a fine figure and resonant voice, and spoke English well, with only a slight French accent. I also saw Mr. and Mrs. Keeley, Mr. Wright as Paul Pry, Mr. Sothern as Lord Dundreary, Mr. Ben- jamin Webster, father-in-law of Lord Burnham, Madame Celeste in the famous play Green Bushes, Mrs. Robson at the Olympic, and many others. I must not forget to mention my old and personal friends, Sir Squire and Lady Ban- croft ; at the time of which I am writing Lady 314 OTHER NOTABLE PLAYERS Bancroft was Miss Marie Wilton, and brought out all the well-known and popular comedies written by Tom Robertson, such as Ours, Caste, School, and many others. She carried them on for many years at the Prince of Wales’s Theatre, Tottenham Court Road, with her husband, Mr. Bancroft, and afterwards they took the Hay- market Theatre, where they remained until they retired. Sir Squire has made a great feature of his Dickens readings for charity, which have realised an immense sum. They have a charm- ing house at Sandgate, facing the sea, where they welcome their friends on Sunday after- noons. I recollect Madame Geneviéve Ward (who was famous in a play called Forget Me Not), coming out as a dramatic singer in Bellini’s Puritani in 1862. She continued on the operatic stage for some years under the name of Madame Guerrabella. She last acted, I believe, in Rudolf Besier’s Greek play, The Virgin Goddess, and now lives in retirement at St. John’s Wood. Mr. and Mrs. Kendal I have often seen play, and I must not forget my dear old friend, Johnny Toole. In his own time none could surpass him, and he had a heart of gold. CHAPTER XVIII MODERN ARTISTS I HAVE KNOWN Jean de Reszke comes out as a baritone—I introduce Madame Melba to the English public—Carl Rosa forgets an appoint- ment—Tetrazzini— Destinn—Calvé—Nordica—Kirkby Lunn — Ada Crossley—Clara Butt—Ruth Vincent—Maggie Teyte —Aino Ackté—Huge fees paid to modern singers—Modern violinists—Ysaye—His ‘‘ quick change ’—Kreisler—Elman —Modern ’cellists—Hollman — Casals — Gérardy — Modern pianists—Paderewski—Eugen d’Albert—Godowsky—Busoni Madame Carrefio—Her Jubilee—Robert MHichens as musical critic—Conductors, past and present—Richter—His wonderful memory—Thomas Beecham—An interesting letter from him—Nikisch—He pays me a visit—Henry J. Wood —Landon Ronald—Sir Edward Elgar—Sir Hubert Parry— Sir Charles Villiers Stanford—Norman O’Neill—Dr. Vaughan Williams—Walford Davies and the Temple Church. Ir is a strange fact that M. Jean de Reszke first came out in London as a baritone. He sang, under my direction in 1874, at one of the New Philharmonic Concerts, the aria ‘“ Sei Vendicata,”’ from Dinorah, and his first appear- ance at Covent Garden was in the opera Les Huguenots, in which he played the rdle of the Count de Nevers—a baritone part. Signor Cotogni, who was in the same opera, helped him to dress and make up, and gave him some good advice about the part, little thinking that in 315 316 MELBA after-years he would become the great tenor who would captivate all his hearers not only by his marvellous voice, but by his clever and most intelligent acting. His brother, Edouard, has also been a great favourite—hardly any one else, except, perhaps, Plancon, could sing and act the part of Friar Laurent in Roméo et Juliette as well as he could; and his fine, commanding pre- sence and magnificent basso-profundo made him greatly esteemed. Both brothers have long since retired from the operatic stage. M. Jean de Reszke has now settled in Paris, where he has become famous as a teacher of singing, and many young aspirants study grand opera with him. I pride myself on being the first to introduce Madame Melba to the English public. She came to me soon after her arrival from Australia in 1886, and brought me a letter of introduc- tion ffom a friend in Melbourne. I asked her whether she had brought any songs for me to hear, and she said ‘‘ Yes.” So she sang the grand aria “ Ah! fors’ é lui” from La Traviata. I was delighted. It could not have been better sung; the vocalisation was perfect, and she warbled her runs and shakes without any effort. When I asked her to sing something else, she pleased me very much with her rendering of my song, “Sing, Sweet Bird,’”’ and she told me made it popular there, MADAME MELBA. 316) MELBA 317 After hearing her, and being satisfied that she would be very successful in public, I said that I would like her to sing at Prince’s Hall in Piccadilly (now demolished and changed to Prince’s Restaurant), at a concert given by a pupil of the late Chevalier Emil Bach. I con- ducted the concert, and had a small orchestra, and Madame Nellie Armstrong (that was her real name in those days, as she adopted the name of ‘‘ Melba” later on when she appeared in opera in Brussels and at Covent Garden) sang the two songs which I had heard at my house, and she was encored in both of them. A few days afterwards I told her that I was arranging the music at the dinner of the Royal Theatrical Fund at the Freemason’s Hall, when the late Sir Augustus Harris (at that time Mr. Augustus Harris) took the chair, and I asked her to help for this good cause, to which she consented. One of her songs was Gounod’s “Ave Maria,” with Mademoiselle Anna Lang’s violin obbligato. It created a great sensation, and Augustus Harris, who had never heard this beautiful song before, was charmed with it. At the conclusion of the entertainment Mrs. Arm- strong, with the rest of the artists who had assisted, remained to a convivial supper, at which I presided. When I met Mrs. Nellie Armstrong again I suggested that she should become the prima donna of the Royal Carl Rosa Opera Company, 318 MELBA and she replied that she would be glad to accept an engagement for that English opera company. I told her that I knew Carl Rosa very well, and should ask him to come to my. house to hear her. I fixed the interview for the following Tuesday afternoon at three o’clock at my house, and called on Mr. Carl Rosa. He said he would come, and wrote the appointment in pencil on his shirt-cuff. Well, on the appointed Tues- day Mrs. Armstrong punctually came at three o’clock, and waited a whole hour for him; but, unfortunately, he never came. He told me afterwards that he had forgotten all about the appointment! That was very unfortunate for him, because I am convinced that, if Rosa had heard this Australian singer, he would have engaged her then and there for a number of years and the company would have made a fortune. I asked Mrs. Armstrong to come on another day to meet Rosa, but she would not hear of it. She then told me that she was going to study with Madame Mathilde Marchesi, and was going at once to Paris for that purpose for eight or nine months. I said to her that I thought it was hardly necessary for her to do so, as her singing was then already so perfect. Shortly afterwards she wrote me the following letter : “My pear Mr. Ganz, ‘““T am so sorry I was unable to come and * aoe MELBA 319 see you before I left London ; but I was so busy. I had no time, and we left a day sooner than we intended. Have you heard of any possible engagements ? I am so anxious to get on, I hope you will put in a good word for me when- ever you can. Were there any notices in the papers about either entertainments? I did not see any. Do you think I could get an engage- ment at any of the Patti concerts? I would not mind singing there, for then I should have a chance of singing before a big audience. What beautiful weather we are having, quite a treat after all the rain. ‘** Give my love to Mrs. and Miss Ganz. ‘** Hoping you are all well. ** Yours sincerely, ‘““ NELLIE ARMSTRONG.” She went, however, and made her first appear- ance in grand opera in Brussels, afterwards in Paris, and then at Covent Garden, where she appeared for the first time in 1888, as Lucia, under Sir Augustus Harris’s management. I was present on that occasion. Everybody knows the brilliant career which she has had ever since - jn this country, on the Continent, in America, and Australia and New Zealand. I ought here to mention that about the same time she called upon me she visited also Sir Arthur Sullivan and Signor Alberto Randegger, and sang to them with the object of getting engagements from the former and receiving lessons from the latter. Sir Arthur put her off by saying that he would give her a part in his 22 ; 820 TETRAZZINI Mikado in a year’s time, and the latter told her that he had no time to give her lessons. She has mentioned these facts in a book of her musical career in which she states that “ the only musician who gave her encouragement was Mr. Wilhelm Ganz.” In after-years, when she became famous here and met these two musical gentlemen, she and they had a good laugh on these, to them, unflattering events. Curiously enough, when Madame Tetrazzini first appeared in Lucia di Lammermoor, the tenor, Signor Carpi, who took the part of Edgardo, asked me, a few days before the performance, whether I would come and hear him in the opera. I told him I had heard Lucia so often that I should be glad if he would excuse me. He had not mentioned that there was a new prima donna making her first appearance, or I should have gone. The next morning the papers were full of Tetrazzini’s great success. There had been no pre- vious announcement of her remarkable powers, and the public were taken by surprise and highly delighted, and I felt sorry I had not gone to hear her, even for a short while; but I managed to do so later on, and was charmed with her singing. The house had been sold out the nights she appeared, and I had the greatest difficulty in even getting standing room to hear her. There is no need for me to dwell upon the beautiful quality and exceptional compass of TETRAZZINI 321 her voice and her brilliant powers of execution. In the great Mad Scene she brought down the house with thunders of applause. The revival of interest in the old operas of Rossini, Bellini, and Donizetti is largely due to Tetrazzini. These florid operas exactly suit her style, and she has brought them again into vogue, such as La Sonnambula, Il Barbiere, and Lucia, and I will also include Verdi’s Traviata, though it is not such an old opera as those I have mentioned. AL Suen fughelo Jrwt byregee Praucts © Fe: os re ee Hida” eliapiuice re cae Anche, Ie cyf Of course it requires a great artiste of excep- tional powers to sing these old operas. I have been present in the stalls at Covent Garden when Tetrazzini was singing and noticed the delight in people’s faces when they heard all the old familiar melodies, notwithstanding the fact that they were constantly hearing the Wagner operas, and those of Puccini and Richard Strauss, and the later operas of Verdi, such as Aida, Otello, and Falstaff. To conclude my impression of Madame Tetraz- zini, I should like to add how wonderfully she 822 DESTINN finished the Cabaletta in Lucia, commencing a Shake on B flat and finishing her cadenza on the high E flat in Alt. Soon after this I made the acquaintance of the gifted artiste and found her most charming and unassuming. One day when I called on her she asked me to try over some English songs with her, which she has since sung at con- certs. When I gave my Diamond Jubilee Con- cert in 1908 she insisted on buying tickets for it, as she was very anxious to hear Madame Patti, whom she had never heard sing. She was, of course, enchanted with the great Diva, and spoke most enthusiastically of Patti’s singing, and was full of veneration for her. When we gave a reception in honour of Madame Patti we specially invited Madame Tetrazzini to meet her, when I introduced them to one an- other, and they became the greatest of friends. The splendid impersonations of Mlle Emmy Destinn in La Tosca, Madama Butterfly, and Aida, won for her immediate recognition as a dramatic soprano of incomparable powers and the highest artistic gifts. Im such rdéles as Tess in Baron Frederic d’Erlanger’s fine opera, she has the voice and personality that transfigure the part and move her hearers to tears. She is a native of Prague, and before she came to England was engaged at the Royal Opera in Berlin. Every winter she appears at the Metro- politan Opera-house in New York. Apropos DESTINN 823 of her assumption of the part of Madama Butterfly, when it was first performed at Covent Garden, I heard a Japanese gentleman remark that it was the only truthful presentment of Japanese life on the stage that he had seen since he came to Europe. My readers who have in years past had the advantage of hearing Signor Graziani, the 5 Parent few gue a greatest foreign baritone of his time, will re- member his luscious voice and the wonderful delivery of his Italian method. He has now a worthy successor in Signor Sammarco, the most admired baritone at Covent Garden. I shall never forget the first time I heard Sammarco’s splendid singing of the prologue in Leoncavallo’s Pagliacci, as his voice reminded me so much of Graziani’s, and I do not wonder he has 824 CALVE become such a great favourite in England and America. Madame Calvé’s vivid presentment of the char- acter of Carmen is still fresh in our recollection. Although she is a dramatic soprano, her voice is particularly sweet in the upper register and in florid music where her coloratura and her lovely shake show off to perfection. She revived the charming Barcarolle from Offenbach’s Contes d’ Hoffmann, and another of her most attractive songs is “‘ Les Couplets de Mysoli,” by Félicien David, with flute obbligaio. Madame Nordica, the well-known and much admired American prima donna, has often sung her Wagnerian réles at Bayreuth and at the Prinz Regenten Theater at Munich, while she is also a very fine concert singer. To my mind her greatest part is that of Isolde in Wagner’s Tristan. I have already spoken of Madame Emma Eames on a previous page, and also of Madame Sembrich. Both these artistes have of late years sung principally at the American Opera-houses, where they are great favourites. Madame Kirkby Lunn, the great English con- tralto, first came out as Norah in Stanford’s Shamus O’Brien in 1896, then joined the Carl Rosa Opera Company at Manchester, and then sang with great success at Covent Garden, where she created the part of Dalila in Saint- Saén’s opera. How can we ever forget her delivery of the beautiful aria “Mon Coeur KIRKBY LUNN 325 s’ouvre & ta voix,” or “ Printemps qui com- mence”’? She is also great as Amneris in Aida, and as a concert singer she is simply perfection. I have heard her sing at most of her recitals and her voice reminds me very much of Alboni’s. I cannot pay her a greater compliment than this. She is always accompanied by that ac- complished musician, Mr. Percy Pitt, whose song, ‘“‘ Love is a Dream,” she sings to per- fection. Another splendid contralto is the Australian singer, Madame Ada Crossley. I was not sur- prised to hear that on a recent tour in her native country the horses were taken out of her carriage and it was dragged by young Australians to her hotel. She is a fine musician and a universal favourite, and was chosen to sing the National Anthem when King George laid the foundation-stone of the Australian Commonwealth building in the Strand the other day. England may certainly be proud of being the native country of Madame Clara Butt, who has made a great name for herself not only in Great Britain, Australia, and South Africa, but also in Germany, where she has sung in German before the Emperor and Empress. She excels in such songs as Liddle’s ‘“‘ Abide with me,” and in Frances Allitsen’s ““Song of Thanksgiving,” and Elgar’s ‘‘ Sea Pictures,” and is equally at home in oratorio. Her commanding presence— 826 CLARA BUTT. she is over six feet in height—always creates an impression wherever she sings. Madame Butt is ably assisted by her husband, Mr. Kennerley Rumford, in her various tours and over-sea engagements. He is the possessor of a very attractive baritone voice, and is a thoroughly good artist. It is a pleasure to hear him sing duets with his wife, such as the “‘ Night Hymn at Sea,” which they sang at my Jubilee Concert. They are both such favourites that whenever they announce a concert they are always sure of a full house. I should like to mention another English singer, Miss Ruth Vincent, who has made a good reputation for herself. One of her first successes was the part of Véronique, in Mes- sager’s charming opera, and it was chiefly owing to her singing and acting that it had such a long run. Since then she has been one of Beecham’s prima donnas at Covent Garden, sing- ing the leading réles in Hansel und Gretel and Contes d’Hoffmann. She has an extensive com- pass, and her upper notes are specially good. As prima donna in The Grand Duchess at the Savoy she was exceedingly popular, and by way of contrast she has sung in Handel’s Messiah with great success. A young and rising artiste is Miss Maggie Teyte, whose début at Covent Garden as Marguerite in Faust at once brought her into the front rank of singers. She created the part of Mélisande AINO ACKTE 827 in Debussy’s Pelléas et Mélisande, and has been very successful at the Opéra-Comique in Paris, singing French like a native. All these modern singers I have mentioned have often sung at my annual concerts, and I have accompanied them all, with the exception of Miss Maggie Teyte, who sang at my benefit concert at the Royal Albert Hall (of which I will write fully later on), when through my accident I was not able to be present, as did also Madame Aino Ackté, one of the most distin- guished singers who have appeared during this century. Her success as Salome in Strauss’s opera is known to everybody, and she is a mag- nificent singer and actress in the most difficult roles. She was born in Finland and made her first appearance in London in January 1907. Things have moved very rapidly of late years. It was only in 1904, I remember, when Massenet’s opera Hérodiade was given at Covent Garden for Madame Calvé, that the management were compelled by the Censor to change the title of the opera. The title chosen was Salome, as likely to give less offence to public prejudice! Herod was renamed Moriame, roi d’Ethiope, and Herodias was also renamed. But it was difficult to make the illusion complete. In the scene in the Temple the seven-branched candlestick was seen, and Madame Calvé led a procession of girls carrying palms and singing ** Hosanna.” When the Roman prefect ap- 328 SINGER’S ENORMOUS FEES peared and began his address to the Ethiopian crowd, he mistook their nationality and ad- dressed them as “ Peuple juif”’! Talking about modern singers reminds me of the enormous fees which they—principally the sopranos—receive for singing at private parties, sometimes as much as 300, 400, and 500 guineas, while in former years such great artists as Grisi, Mario, Bosio, and the old Lablache only received 15 or 20 guineas for each entertainment. It is therefore difficult for hostesses to keep up the former custom of opening their salons to their friends and having the most renowned artists to sing for them. Unless they have an exor- bitantly expensive star to attract their guests in the height of the London season they cannot give these private concerts. The guests who are invited to musical parties try to find out, be- fore accepting, who is going to sing, and unless it is some great singer they stay away, which is very hard on hostesses who cannot afford to pay these high prices. During my long musical career I have known many great violinists, and have already alluded to the famous ones of past days. In the present time M. Ysaye is, of course, one of the very first. I remember, on one occasion, he gave a concert at Queen’s Hall and played a Concerto by Vieuxtemps and the ever-popular Mendelssohn Concerto, which were so greatly applauded that he gave, as an encore, Saint-Saéns’ ‘‘ Rondo A “QUICK CHANGE” 829 Capriccioso.” It was five o’clock, and he had to play the same evening at Birmingham, and was obliged to change into his evening clothes in the artists’ room, so as to catch the six o’clock train. This was quick work, and artists, years ago, would not have dared to do such a thing, as they always rested hours before playing at a concert, and kept thoroughly quiet. Now they rush about, and if on tour where they have to sing or play every night in a different town, they sometimes arrive just as the concert begins, and I have known cases where they arrived so late that they had no time even to dress suitably beforehand, but had to appear in travelling dress, owing to their trains being delayed. _ In recent years Herr Fritz Kreisler has main- tained his great reputation here by introducing Elgar’s First Violin Concerto to the public, which he plays magnificently. Mischa Elman, who came here from Russia as a boy, and is a most marvellous player, has the most faultless expression and fine technique. He is a real genius, and his career has been one long triumph. I have reason to be particularly grateful to him, as he played for me at my Jubilee Concert in 1908, and my benefit concert in 1911. Of the ’cellists in the present day my old friend, M. Joseph Hollman, is one of the most popular. He plays here every season, and is in great request at private musical soirées. His tone is grand, and his execution splendid. He 830 FAMOUS ’CELLISTS has composed concertos for his own instrument, and his Morceaur de Salon are charming and full of melody. He has assisted me at my annual concerts for a great many years. He is a great favourite at At Homes. I remember, on one occasion, when he was playing, a foot- man entered the room bearing a tray with cups of tea. Seeing Hollman seated in the middle of the room playing his ’cello he walked up to him and offered him some. Hollman at once laid down his ’cello, drank off the tea, and then resumed his piece where he had left off. That fine ’cellist, Sefior Casals, has proved himself one of the greatest living artists. M. Jean Gérardy, who came over from Liége and played on Madame Patti’s concert tours, when I always accompanied him, already made his name here as a boy. Among the modern pianists M. Paderewski continues to hold his high place as an artist of rare charm and poetical feeling. Then there is Mr. Eugen d’Albert, the great Beethoven player, who reappeared here this summer, but rarely comes over since he settled in Berlin. I am told he does not like to be reminded that he was born in Great Britain. I knew his father when he lived at Newcastle, where he wrote popular dance-music in the fifties. Eugen d’Albert now goes in for com- posing operas, one of which—Tvefland—was lately performed at Covent Garden with con- CARRENO 881 siderable success. His operas are very popular in Germany, the land of his adoption. It is unnecessary for me to do more than mention the brilliant Chopin playing of Godow- sky, Busoni’s development of pianistic tone- painting, and Moritz Rosenthal’s phenomenal feats of execution. I have known Madame Teresa Carrefio for many years, and we have always kept up our / ee AS ool Mehran, 20/409 friendship, ever since she first came over here. On my recent birthday she sent me two big bouquets of flowers and her signed photograph. She has travelled all over the world, and de- lighted many thousands of people with her playing, which is remarkable for its wonderful power. Carrefio is full of charm, and a brilliant conversationalist. She has a beautiful smile, and speaking dark brown eyes. It is hard to believe that she has been fifty years before the 332 RICHTER public and announced her Jubilee Recital last year. One of the most brilliant critics I ever knew was Robert Hichens, the novelist, who for some years in the nineties used to contribute a weekly article in The World which was a wonderful medley of scintillating wit and humour and keenly appreciative. I recall such phrases, apropos of a pianist of the ultra-strenuous type who shall be nameless, ‘‘ He will even hit a piano when it’s down!’ and of a modern string quartette of continuous arpeggios—‘ It seems as if the arpeggios would go on till the last trump turned the quartette into a quintette.” He also told me that his original intention in early life was to become an organist, and that he had studied with George Riseley at Bristol. ‘**T never was able to master the organ. When sitting there, it always seemed so aloof, so far away. I never could get into any personal relation with it.” Of conductors I have known many, one of the greatest being undoubtedly Dr. Hans Richter, who has worked hard here for many years as conductor of the Charles Hallé Man- chester Concerts and Liverpool Philharmonic Concerts, and, above all, Wagner’s musical dramas at Covent Garden. For many years he gave orchestral concerts at St. James’s Hall, where he excelled in Beethoven’s Symphonies, RICHTER 333 all of which he conducted from memory. I have already referred to him in writing of the first performances at Bayreuth, which he also con- ducted from memory ; indeed, it is always said of him that, if all the Wagner scores were to be burnt, Richter could write them out from memory ! He has now retired into private life, and his many friends and admirers will wish him to enjoy his well-earned rest in good health, peace, and contentment. In a letter he wrote me shortly after he had conducted The Ring at Covent Garden in 1908, he says: “Fir mich war das Schénste und Erfreu- lichste das Publicum; welche weihevolle Stille wahrend und welcher Enthusiasmus nach den Akten! ‘Wenn man Wagner-Ehrungen erleben will, muss man wahrlich in’s Ausland gehen. Noch immer werden die Schiiler der Berliner Musikschule vor dem Besuche der Wagner’schen Werke gewarnt; selbst in der Zeit der tiefsten Verkennung Berlioz’s hatte es kein Professor oder Director des Pariser Conservatoire gewagt, die Schiller von dem Besuche Berlioz’scher Auffih- rungen abzureden; aber in Deutschland ist es noch heute—20 Jahre nach des Meisters Tode— moéglich, unehrerbietig tiber Richard Wagner reden zu héren. Ich bin froh, dass ich diesen unerfreulichen Verhaltnissen entronnen bin, und diese letzten Auffiihrungen haben es mich recht fiihlen lassen, wie richtig es war, mein Heim in England zu suchen und auch zu finden, darf ich hinzufiigen.” 384 RICHTER (“For me the finest and most delightful thing was the Public; what a solemn stillness during the acts, and what enthusiasm afterwards! To experience what honouring Wagner means one must really go abroad. The pupils of the Berlin Music-school are still warned against attending performances of Wagner’s works; even in the time of the worst misjudgments of Berlioz, no Professor or Director of the Paris Conservatoire would have dared to warn the pupils against going to Berlioz performances ; but in Germany it is still possible—twenty years after the Master’s death—to hear disparaging remarks about Richard Wagner. I am happy that I have seen the last of this unhappy state of things, and these last performances have made me really feel how right it was to seek, and, if I may add, to find my Home in England.”’) a Peer deibew Hx aa ae peor feo pees Ma AOR LEDS as A), Of the conductors at Covent Garden, Signor Campanini in Verdi’s and Puccini’s operas proved himself as great as any of his Italian confréres, where previously my old friend, Luigi Arditi, composer of ‘ Il Bacio,’’ which Madame Patti has rendered so popular, Alberto Ran- degger, and Mancinelli were famous names, and latterly we had Thomas Beecham, who con- NIKISCH 335 ducted Richard Strauss’s Elektra and Salome splendidly. The imcomparable Arthur Nikisch won fresh laurels this year as conductor,; of Wagner’s Ring at Covent Garden. Pb TE pall den thd oe fia! I was deeply touched by a visit he paid to me recently. He came quite unexpectedly and stayed a long time. He knew all about the musicians from abroad I had known in earlier days, and talked about their various characteristics. When I showed him the programmes of my orchestral concerts with the performances of Berlioz’s Symphonies and Liszt’s Divina Commedia, he compared the difficulties I must have had in those days, when there were no permanent 23 336 MODERN COMPOSERS orchestras, with the present time, when there are several, and spoke of my courage in giving those. works over thirty years ago. I told him I remembered attending an afternoon concert in Queen’s Hall, when he made his first ap- pearance here and electrified every one by his rendering of Tschaikowsky’s Fifth Sym- phony in E minor, then still a little-known work. Among concert conductors of the front rank is Sir Henry J. Wood, who has made the Queen’s Hall Symphony Concerts so popular, and is acknowledged to be the greatest English con- ductor. Sir Edward Elgar has only recently entered the ranks of conductors. The youngest conductor of the present time is Mr. Landon Ronald, son of my dear old friend, the late Henry Russell. He has established some sym- phony concerts with a new orchestra of his own creation, and conducts at the Sunday Concerts at the Royal Albert Hall. One day Mr. Henry Russell brought his little son to me and said he wished me to hear him play, and give my opinion about his talent. The boy played the ‘‘ Moonlight Sonata ” to me, and when he had finished I played it to him to correct some of his faults. I told his father that he had great gifts, and should continue to study under a good master, and he was quite satisfied with what I said. Many years after- wards, when Landon Ronald had risen to fame, ELGAR 3387 he spoke of the circumstance to me, and said he would never forget it. He has now become a first-rate accompanist and clever conductor, and has been engaged to conduct some of the symphony concerts in the principal cities on the Continent, while his songs and orchestral compositions have become very popular. He is now Principal of the Guildhall School of Music, the “‘ right man in the right place.” Among the modern English composers whose name stands in the first rank is Sir Edward Elgar, who quickly rose to fame by his oratorios Gerontius and The Apostles, and by his First Symphony. Since then he has gained fresh laurels by his new Violin Concerto, which Herr Fritz Kreisler has played so often with enormous success, and which is a monumental work of its composer, and his Second Symphony, which has also been so much admired, and his charming ‘‘ Sea Songs,” which Madame Clara Butt sings at nearly all her concerts. England may well be proud of him, for his orchestral works are performed with great success and much appreciated on the Continent. Well-established favourites among English com- posers are also Sir Hubert Parry, Director of the Royal College of Music, and Sir Alexander Mackenzie, Principal of the Royal Academy of Music, to whose operas and their performance by the Carl Rosa Opera Company I have alluded in a previous chapter. His cantata, The Rose 338 MODERN COMPOSERS of Sharon, is a splendid work, and his “ Bene- dictus *” for the violin has been performed by all the leading violinists. It may not be gener- ally known that Alexander Mackenzie settled some time ago in Florence, but returned at the instigation of the late Dr. Francis Hueffer, who advised him to come over to England; and recommended his opera Columba to Carl Rosa. for production. Another favourite British composer is Sir Charles Villiers Stanford, to whose well-known opera, Shamus O’Brien, written quite in the Irish style, I have also previously alluded. His symphonies and other works have had well- deserved success. Then I come to my old friend, Frederick Cowen, on whom King George has now bestowed a knighthood, that honour being highly deserved and much appreciated by his numerous friends and admirers. His com- positions of all kinds are voluminous, including his many songs and symphonies. “ The Better Land,” his most popular song, was one of the favourites of Madame Antoinette Stirling, and “The Swallows” is sung by Miss Evangeline Florence. His latest cantata, The Veil, which was written for the Cardiff Musical Festival, was. performed with great success. I am glad that my friend Arthur Hervey has found more leisure since his retirement from his duties of musical critic to continue composing so admirably. MODERN COMPOSERS 339 One evening, many years ago, I went to see Richard Mansfield, the American actor, in his fine performance of Richard III. He was, I believe, a nephew of Alberto Randegger. I was much struck by the incidental music, and went to ask one of the band, whom I knew, about the composer who was conducting. It was Edward German, who afterwards attained such great popularity with his charming music to Henry VIII. I must also mention Mr. Norman O’Neill, a young composer who writes incidental music to dramas, his music for Maeterlinck’s Blue Bird being specially delightful, and Mr. Roger Quilter and Mr. Cyril Scott, who have composed many charming songs as well as more ambitious works. Mr. Balfour Gardiner is also a rising young composer, and so is Mr. Joseph Holbrooke, whose opera; The Children of Don, to the libretto of Lord Howard de Walden, was performed under Mr. Hammerstein’s management at the New Opera-house; Herr Nikisch conducted two performances of it, and the composer conducted the third. Dr. Vaughan ‘Williams has won a high place by works representing the best tendencies in modern English music. I have followed his career with interest since his under- graduate days at Cambridge. The works of Dr. Walford Davies are well known, and considered very fine, and apart from this he is a wonderful organist, being 840 MODERN COMPOSERS attached in that capacity to the Temple Church, where he has trained the choir to a high pitch of perfection, as I have noticed when at- tending services there, if it is permissible to say so. CHAPTER XIX MY BENEFIT CONCERT Our golden wedding—Wilhelm Kuhe—Benefit concert at the Albert Hall, I TuInK I ought to mention our golden wedding day, which took place on August 8rd, 1909. My wife and I had no end of handsome pre- sents and telegrams from relations and friends, as well as bouquets of flowers and gilded laurel wreaths. In the afternoon we had a garden party in the grounds opposite our house, and snapshots were taken of us and our children as well as photo- graphic groups. In the evening we had a family dinner-party and some music afterwards, during which Madame Blanche Marchesi and Madame Zélie de Lussan charmed us and our friends with their singing. We spent a most delightful evening (though as host I ought not to-say so!); and it was twelve o’clock when the festivities of this glorious day finished. FROM THE “PALL MALL GAZETTE” “The worst that anybody ever said of Mr. Wilhelm Ganz was that he was a German adverb 341 842 OUR GOLDEN WEDDING of emphasis; but that was in a humoursome speech proposing the toast of his health many years ago. To-day everybody is toasting Mr. and Mrs. Ganz with emphasis on the occasion of their golden wedding, and wishing them many more years of happiness. The man who has accompanied Madame Patti’s songs for more than half a century needs no reminder that he is over seventy years of age, and has filled a busy life with many professional triumphs. But these achievements of his have been so varied that half of them are possibly forgotten, even by the genial impresario himself. His compositions include many favourite lyrics, and his pupils, at the Guildhall School of Music and elsewhere, include many famous professionals and amateurs. Few men have crowded so much music and friendship into the limits of an active public career, or have won and retained so many golden opinions from all sorts and conditions of men and women. Doubtless those who have known him longest will remember him oftenest as a courtier of the old school, leading the great Diva on to the platform amid thunders of ap- plause; and then, with a touch of the piano, leading her off again into an ecstasy of song that left ineffaceable memories with all who heard it. To-day, the lady that Mr. Ganz leads down to the footlights of public acclamation is his life’s partner—his own best ‘ accompanist ’—and the song is ‘Home, Sweet Home.’ ”’ I cannot conclude my Reminiscences without giving an account of the wonderful concert which Madame Patti so generously gave for my benefit on Thursday, June Ist, 1911. Some weeks previously Madame Patti asked 4 Rea TE ee ve ar ADELINA PATTI A Souvenir of the Concert, 342] ARTISTS WHO ASSISTED 348 my daughter Georgina to call on her, when she told her how concerned she was about my accident, which had quite incapacitated me from following my profession, and said that she in- tended that I should have a benefit concert, at which she would sing for me, in spite of the fact that she had already retired into private life. Soon after she called, with Baron Rolf Ceder- strém, to see me, and told me what she proposed to do. She said she had written a letter to Lord Blyth asking him to interest himself in the concert and assist her in getting it up, which he had kindly consented to do. Lord Blyth formed an honorary committee, including many notable names. Their Majesties the King and Queen, Queen Alexandra, and the whole of the Royal Family gave their gracious patronage. All the great artists who were asked by the committee to give their services at once com- plied. Madame Aino Ackté, who had only a short time before arrived in England, promised at once to sing; also Miss Maggie Teyte, Mr. Ben Davies, Mr. Gregory Hast, and Mr. Robert Radford. Mischa Elman, who had only the previous day returned from America, said he would play. Mr. Harold Bauer came specially from Paris, and M. Jean Gérardy from Brussels. Miss Ellen Terry, Miss Cecilia Loftus, Mr. George Alexander, and Mr. Henry Ainley consented to recite, and the conductors were Messrs. F. A. B44 MY BENEFIT CONCERT Sewell, Adolph Mann, Percy Kahn, and Alfredo Barili, Madame Patti’s nephew. With such a splendid array of distinguished artists the suc- cess of the concert was assured. Much to my regret, I was compelled by my doctor’s orders. to stop at home; but I was not alone, as I had asked my old friend, William Kuhe, to come and take tea with me. He arrived, and we chatted. pleasantly together, when presently my daugh- ter Georgina, who had gone to the concert, arrived in a taxi to tell me the news that Madame Patti had just finished her last song and that she was in wonderful voice. Her reception by the enormous audience, said my daughter, was something to be remembered ; they kept cheer- ing and applauding for at least five minutes, and Madame Patti was quite overcome by the ovation. She sang in the first part Mozart’s ‘““Voi che Sapete,”’ with Lotti’s ‘‘ Pur Dicesti” as an encore, and in the second part Tosti’s “* Serenata,’’ and for the encore ‘‘ Home, Sweet Home.”” Many people had tears in their eyes, for nobody has ever sung this simple ballad with greater pathos than Madame Patti, and every syllable was distinctly heard by the vast as- sembly. Even the wife of the composer, Sir Henry Bishop, who sang it often to my accom- paniment many years ago, could not equal Patti in the singing of it. The Diva received numerous bouquets, and I sent her a large laurel: wreath, with the dates MY BENEFIT CONCERT 345 1861 and 1911 on satin streamers, as a remem- brance of her first appearance at Covent Garden fifty years before. She has indeed had a won- derful career, and has kept her voice as fresh and beautiful as when she first carried London by storm. William Kuhe had known many great artists. in his time, and it was always a delight to me to hear him speak of the golden days of fifty or- sixty years ago, telling me stories about them. He had heard Chopin play at a concert he gave in Eaton Place, when he (Chopin) was so weak that he had to be carried up into the drawing-- room to the piano, and yet his playing was. unique and unforgettable. He had also heard. Thalberg, Hummel, Rubinstein, Von Biilow, Madame Pleyel (whom I had heard frequently in 1852), and Moscheles, Mendelssohn, Madame: Schumann, and many celebrities of bygone days. All these pianists I had heard play and knew them personally, with the exception of . Men- delssohn, Chopin, and Hummel, who died before my time. Kuhe had also heard all the great. singers, such as Jenny Lind, Sontag, Persiani, Patti, Grisi, Nilsson, Alboni, and a host of others, whom I had also heard and accompanied, and. knew personally ; so we could both talk about. these stars and musical matters in general. ‘We exchanged our impressions, and it was a special. pleasure to me to be with my old friend. When he was alive I think he and I and John Thomas,, 346 MY BENEFIT CONCERT the harpist, and Alberto Randegger were the oldest musicians living in London. So anxious was Madame Patti to sing her best for me and not to disappoint the public that, as I heard afterwards, for weeks she had taken care of her voice and health, not even going out of doors, to avoid risking a cold, and when she arrived in London, although invited out to innumerable dinners, etc., she would not accept any invitations, nor would she attend any theatres until the concert was over. A striking incident occurred when Madame ‘Tetrazzini left her seat to ascend the platform and present Madame Patti with a large bouquet of flowers. The two prima donnas embraced -coram populo amid scenes of enthusiasm. It will be news to my readers to hear that Madame Patti always felt very nervous before going on the platform, and has often said to me: ** Ganz, what shall Ido? I feel so dreadfully nervous; my heart is palpitating terribly.” I always tried to reassure her, but as soon as she got on the platform and began to sing she forgot everything. This was also the case with Sims Reeves, Edward Lloyd, Thalberg, and other great artists. Between the first and second parts Sir Herbert Tree addressed Madame Patti and the rest of the distinguished artists, and thanked them in ‘my name for their valuable assistance, and said he hoped I would soon be well again. MY BENEFIT CONCERT 347 Sir HERBERT BEERBOHM TREE’sS SPEECH He almost wished, he said, they had left the building with the sweet tones of that dear and wonderful lady ringing in their ears. But, alas! he had a duty to perform which must be done. He would be lacking in gratitude to Madame Patti if in the name of the committee he did not thank her for her generous thought in getting up this concert for her dear friend, Mr. Ganz, who, as they knew, was her faithful friend and accompanist. It was appropriate, for he had in his entire career done many acts of kindness for his comrades, and it was right that that great lady should show that act of friendship in which they joined that day. Madame Patti had just celebrated her fiftieth anniversary. On May 14th, 1861, Madame Patti made her first appearance in La Sonnam- bula in Covent Garden Theatre. It remained for him to thank the artists. “We all regret,” he continued, ‘“‘that Mr. Ganz, through ill-health, is sitting in ‘his sweet. home’ with tears in his eyes, thinking of the friendship of Madame Patti to-day and the echoing shouts. He is not in the building, but we wish him many golden days to enjoy the golden proof of the esteem of the public and the esteem of his friends. It is a delight to them to see the great audience assembled on this occasion.” During the day I received no end of sym- pathetic letters from friends and relatives, and also many bouquets of beautiful flowers, one of which was sent by my sister, Marie Ganz. Madame Clara Butt and her husband, Mr. 348 MY BENEFIT CONCERT Kennerley Rumford, sent me a wire from South- ampton, and said how much they regretted not having been able to sing at my concert. Madame Kirkby Lunn also sent me her regrets at not being able to sing for me. As I close these pages I am filled with a feel- ing of gratitude for the kindly thought which prompted Madame Patti to offer me yet another and most striking testimony of her valued friendship and affection, and I am no less proud to remember the loyal artists who rallied round her and all who helped to make the concert a success. In placing on record these memories of musical events that have happened during my long career it has been a great pleasure to me to recall the many kindnesses that I have always received from my brother and sister artists, which will remain amongst the happiest of my recollections. LIST OF MY COMPOSITIONS PIANOFORTE SOLOS Adelina Valse. Allons Vite! Galop. En avant. Galop. Grande Valse brillante. Je me souviens. Mélodie. La Ballerina. Mazurka. La Vivacité. Polka. Le Bonheur supréme. Paroles d’amour. Romance. La Voglia. Mazurka. Qui Vive. Galop. Souvenez-vous ? Meélodie chantante. Souvenir de Wrest. Mazurka. Souviens-toi? Mélodie chantante. Tyrolienne. Vision du passé. Réverie. PIANOFORTE DUETS Adelina Valse. Allons Vite! Galop. La Vivacité. Qui Vive! Galop. Souvenir de Wrest. Mazurka En avant. Galop. 349 350 LIST OF MY COMPOSITIONS Sones A Damsel Fair was singing. Camelia and Rose. Dear Bird of Winter. Forget me not. Faithful Echo. God save the Prince of Wales. I seek for thee in every Flower. Kindred Spirits. Love shall never die. Love hailed a little Maid. My Mother’s Song. Since Yesterday. Sing, Birdie, sing. Sing, Sweet Bird. The Fisherman’s Wife. The Mountain Flower. The Murmuring Sea. The Nightingale’s Trill. When thou wilt be my Bride. When we went a-gleaning. When the Thrush sings. VocaL TUTOR INDEX Ackté, Madame Aino, 327, 343 Ainley, Mr. Henry, 343 Albani, Madame, 92, 172 d’ Albert, Mr. Eugen, 330 Alboni, Madame, 13 Alexander, Sir George, 109, 343 Alexandra (Queen), 29, 219, 278, 305, 308 Alvarez, M., 295 Alverstone, Lord, 235 Amélie of France (Queen), 46 Ancona, Signor, 307 Apponyi, Countess, 40 Ardgowan, tenants’ ball at, 45; grouse-shooting at, 46 Arkwright, Mrs., 211 Armstrong, Madame Nellie. Melba Arnoldson, Mile Sigrid, 225 Arts Club, The, 283 Ascherberg, Mr. Eugene, 236, 239 Auer, Herr Leopold, 94, 133 d’Aumale, Duc and Duchesse, 40 46, 49, 218 Autograph Album, 310 See Bache, Mr. Walter, 184 Balfe, Michael, 4, 7, 12, 27, 31, 32, 63, 64, 65 5 — Miss (Duchesse de Frias), 65 Ballet, The, 15 Bancroft, Lady, her speech at the author’s Jubilee Concert, 309 ; in Robertson’s plays, 314 — Sir Squire, 313 Barili, Ettore, 197 — Alfredo, 344 Barnett, John Francis, 127 Barrett, Dr. W. A., 139 24 Battenberg, Prince Henry of, 159 Battistini, Signor, 237 Bauer, Harold, 343 Bazzini, Signor, 252 ** Beating of my own Heart, The,” 227 Beaufort, Duke of, 275 Beecham, Mr. Thomas, 273, 334 Beethoven, 36 Benedict, Sir Julius, 80, 82, 211, 256 et seg., 297, 301 — Mr. A. E., 260 Beresford-Hope, Lady Mildred, 168 Berlioz, Hector, 4, 26, 51, 53, 61, 62, 138, 144, 147 Bernhardt, Sarah, 60 Bernstorff, Count and Countess, 227 “* Better Land, The,’ 95, 338 Birch, Miss Charlotte Ann, 51 Bishop, Sir Henry, 32, 344 Blessington, Lady, 58 Blyth, Lord, 307, 343 Boito, 268, 269 Borwick, Leonard, 272 Bottesini, 35, 104 Boucicault, Dion, 312 Braddon, Miss (Mrs. Maxwell), 169 Braham, Augustus, 39 — Charles, 18, 39 — Hamilton, 39 — John, 18, 34, 38, 39 Brahms, 95, 131 Bridge, Sir Frederick, 283 “ British Army Quadrilles,” 37 Bruch, Max, 134, 268, 269 von Biilow, Dr. Hans, 128, 131, 151, 1938, 195 361 352 Bunn, Alfred, 55, 56 Burnham, Lord, 298 Butt, Madame Clara, 277, 306, 325, 337, 347 Cadogan, Earl, 165 “Caller Herrin,” 95 Calvé, Madame, 222, 280, 324, 327 Calzolari, Signor, 14 Cambridge, Duchess of, 40 — Duke of (son of George III), 12, 58 — Princess Mary of (Duchess of Teck), 40, 100, 166, 289, 297 Cambridge University ‘Musical Society, 268 Campanini, Signor Cleofante (con- ductor at Covent Garden), 92, 334 — Signor Italo, 92 Cardigan, Earl of, 216 Carington, Sir Wijliam, 161 Carlingford, Lord, 41 Carmen, 101 Carnarvon, Earl of, 276 Carpenter, Miss Nettie, 225 Carrefio, Madame Teresa, 331 Carvalho, Madame Miolan, 90 Casals, Sefior, 330 Cecil, Mr. Arthur, 67 Cederstrém, Baron Rolf, 201, 343 Cerito, 15 Chantilly, Chateau of, 47 Chappell, Arthur, 112, 193 Charity concerts, 289 et seq. Charrington, Mr., 222 Chartists, The, 48 Chopin, 345 . Christian, Prince and Princess, 160 Churchill, Lord Randolph, 168, 225, 226 Clandeboye (Belfast), 43 Clarendon, Earl of, 41, 42, 218 Clauss, Mlle Wilhelmine, 62 Cockburn, Sir Alexander, 18, 231, 232, 233 Coletti, Signor, 9 Collins, Mr. Arthur, 281 Condé, Prince de, 47 Conneau, Madame, 118 INDEX Conservatoire, Salle du, 190 Contrabandista, The, 68 Coronation, The (1911), 284 Corry, Mr. (Montagu), 227 Corsican Brothers, The, 312 Costa, Sir Michael, 22, 23, 120 Coutts, Baroness Burdett-, 49 Covent Garden Opera, 279, 280 Cowen, Sir. Frederick, 83, 84, 93, 118, 120, 139, 338 Craig-y-nos, 161, 198 Cremorne Gardens, 57 Crimean War, 42 Critchett, Dr., 172 Crossley, Miss Ada, 108, 306, 325 Crotty, Mr. Leslie, 103 Cruvelli, Madame Sophie, 7, 8 Crystal Palace, 24, 119, 120, 162 Daily News, 239 Dannreuther, Mr, Edward, 172 Dante Symphony, Liszt’s, 149, 150 Davies, Mr. Ben, 39, 65, 105, 307, 343 — Miss Mary, 100 — Dr. Walford, 339 Delibes, M. Leo, 191 Derby, Earl of, 166 Destinn, Mlle Emmy, 225, 322 Devonshire, Duchess of, 292 Disraeli, Mr., 219, 226 Douro, Marchioness of, 11 Drury Lane, Monte Cristo at, 59 ; Italian Opera at, 279, 281 Dudley, Earl of, 83, 96, 97, 98, 99, 100, 133, 167, 211 Dudley House, the picture-gallery, 96; ball-room, 98 Dufferin, Lord, 41, 43, 44 Dulcken, Madame, 53 Dupplin, Lord, 274, 275 Eames, Madame Emma, 280, 324 Eaton, General Herbert (Lord Cheylesmore), 297 Edinburgh, Duke and Duchess of, 138, 211 Edward VII (King), 29, 211, 219, 220, 222, 225, 274, 277, 278, 296 Ein Heldenieben (Strauss’s), 273 INDEX Electra (Strauss’s), 273 Elgar, Sir Edward, 93, 336, 337 Ella, Mr. John, 110 et seq. Elman, Mischa, 329, 343 Engle, Mlle Marie, 306 English Nation, is it musical? 299, 300, 301 English Opera, 69, 120 et seg. d@’Erlanger, Baron F., 322 Ernst, Herr Heinrich, 70, 73, 78 Esmeralda, Goring Thomas’s, 149 Essipoff, Madame Annette, 128, 129 Eugénie, Empress, 155 Exhibition of 1851, 15, 35, 78, 162 — of 1862, 162 Falstaff (Verdi’s), 248 Farkoa, Mr. Maurice, 282 Faudel-Phillips, Sir George, 204 Fechter, 313 Fees paid to singers, magnitude of, 328 Florence, Miss Evangeline, 93, 338 Foli, Signor, 87, 88, 303 Folkestone, Lady, 211 Forsell, Herr John, 107 Francis Joseph (The Emperor), 36 Frederick (The Emperor and Em- press), 80, 293 Freemasons, 276 Gailhard, M., 295 Ganz, Adelina, 161, 204 — Adolph (father of the author), 2, 3, 4, 55 et seq. — Albert, 267 — Charles, 307 — Eduard, 78 — Georgina, 106, 204, 227, 306 — Henry, 54 — Leopold, 78, 158, 294 — Moritz, 78, 79, 158, 294 Ganz’s Orchestral Concerts, 140 et seq. Garcia, Madame Viardot, 25, 79, 90, 166 Gardiner, Mr. Balfour, 339 Gardoni, Signor, 6 George V (King), 167, 325, 343 3538 Gérardy, M. Jean, 330, 343 German Edward, 339 Gilbert, Alfred, 66 Giuglini, Signor, 232, 286 Gladstone, Mr., 229, 230 “* God bless the Prince of Wales,” 28, 275 Goddard, Miss Arabella, 28 Godowsky, 331 Goffrié, Herr, his “‘ Reunions des Arts,” 52; and the New Phil- harmonic Society, 61 Golden Wedding (1909), 341 Goldschmidt, Mr. Otto, 70 Gomez, Madame Alice, 307 Gounod, Charles, 185 ef seq. Grain, Mr. Corney, 67 ‘* Grand National Concerts, The,” 27, 28 Granville, Lord, 219 Graziani, Signor, 323 Grisi, Madame Carlotta, 15, 17 — — Giulia, 21, 25 Grossmith, Mr. George, 307 Grove, Sir George, 120 Guise, Duc de, 47 Gumbleton, Mr. George, 212 Gye, Mr. Frederick, 17, 19, 92 — Mr. Ernest, 92 Hallé, Sir Charles, 58, 97, 116, 117, 301 —Lady (Madame Norman Ne- ruda), 11, 36, 80, 85, 86, 113, 116, 117 Handel Festivals, 24, 120 Harcourt, Mr. Vernon, M.P., 38 — Sir William, M.P., 41, 46 Harold in Italy, Berlioz’s, 62, 138 Harris, S: Augustus, 279, 281, 317-19 Harrison, William, 63, 257 — Percy, 187, 201 Hast, Mr. Gregory, 343 Hauk, Miss Minnie, 100, 121 Hayes, Catherine, 82 Henschel, Herr George, 132 Herschell, Lord, 234 Hervey, Arthur, 338 — Lady Augustus, 211 Hichens, Mr. Robert, 332 354 Hill, Lady Arthur, 211 Holbrooke, Mr. Joseph, 339 Holland, Miss Fanny, 67 Hollman, M. Joseph, 100, 329 Houghton, Lord, 227 Hueffer, Dr. Francis, 150, 287, 338 Hullah, John, 66 Irving, Sir Henry, 54, 293 Jacoby, M., 221 Jaell, Alfred, 131 Janotha, Mile, 134 Jansa,aerr Leopold, 35 Jehin, M., 250 Joachim, Herr, 65, 112, 115, 228 Joran, Miss Pauline, 281 Jubilee Concerts, the ‘author’s (1898 and 1908), 305 et seq., 308 ef seq. Jullien, Monsieur (Director at Drury Lane), 37, 51, 52 Kahn, Percy, 344 Kalkbrenner, M., 53 Kean, Charles, 311 Kemble, Miss Gertrude (Mrs. Santley), 50, 82 Kendal, Mr. and Mrs., 314 Kent, Duchess of, 6, 12 Kingston, Mr. Beatty, 184 Kirkby Lunn, Madame, 324, 348 Kontski, Antoine de, 89 Kreisler, Herr Fritz, 329, 337 Kreuz, Mr. Emil, 307 Kune, Mr. Wilhelm, 53, 307, 345 Lablache, Signor, 8, 9, 13, 1'7, 244 La Giselle, revival of, 16 Lansdowne, Marchioness of, 202, 294 de Lara, Mr. Isidore, 103 Lathom, Lord, 260 Lehmann, Liza, 107 Leschetizky, Professor, 128, 269, 270, 271 Levy, Mr. J. M., 233 Liebhart, Madame Louisa, 68, 83 Lind, Jenny, 3, 5, 6, 7, 69, 70, 71, 72, 73, 74, 75, 76, 136 Lindsay, Col. Hon, C, H,, 28, 29 INDEX Liszt, The Abbé, 183 et seg. Liszt’s Dante Symphony, 149, 150 Lloyd, Mr. Edward, 39, 65, 98, 94, 102, 106, 186, 284, 296, 307 Loftus, Miss Cecilia, 343 Lohengrin, 181 * Londesborough, Lady, 217 *“ Lost Chord, The,” 94 Louis Philippe and his sons, 46, 49 Lowe, Rt. Hon. Robert, 300 Lucca, Pauline, 164 Ludwig, King of Bavaria, 175, 179 Lumley, Mr. Benjamin (Director of Her Majesty’s), 4, 6, 17, 286 de Lussan, Mlle Zélie, 105, 121 Lutheran Chapel (Savoy), 48 Maas, Mr. Joseph, 102, 122 MacCunn, Hamish, 122 Macfarren, Sir G. A., 34, 227 Mackenzie, Sir Morell, 54, 298 — Sir Alexander, 337 Mackintosh of Mackintosh, Mrs., 225 Mann, Adolph, 344 Manns, Sir August, 119 Mapleson, Colonel, J. H., 19, 20 Marchesi, Mlle Mathilde, 284 — Mlle Blanche, 285 Mario, Signor, 21, 22, 25 Marlborough, Duchess of and her daughters, 167 Mascagni, 136, 238, 239, 241 Mary (Queen), 100, 343 Mathews, Charles, 313 Maude, Mr. Cyril, 307 Maybrick, Michael (Stephen Adams), 102 McCormack, John, 308 Meistersinger, Die, 181, 280 Melba, Madame, 316 et seg., 280 Mendelssohn, at Chester Place, 55; not a Jew, 179 Mengelberg, Herr, 272 Menter, Madame Sophie, 144, 148 Messent, Miss Sophie, 32, 214 Meyerbeer, 138, 162, 164, 165 Milan, 251 Millais, Sir John, 108 Miran, Miss, 51 Monte Carlo, 250 INDEX Monte Cristo atDrury Lane (1848), 59 Moore, Miss Mary, 307 Morley, Viscount, 229 Moscheles, Madame, 54 Moszkowski, 270 Munich, and Wagner’s operas, 181 Minster, Prince, 228, 293 ‘Musical Union Concerts,’’ The, lll “My Pretty Jane,” 33 Naples, 243, 244 Napoleon Bonaparte at Mainz, 2 Napoleon IIT, 154, 180 Napoleon, Prince Louis. Prince Imperial New Meistersinger’s Club, 281 New PhilharmonicConcerts(1852), 60, 61, 125 ‘et seg. Ney-Biirde, Madame, 25 Nicolini, Ernesto, 156 Niemann, Herr, 173 Nikisch, Herr Arthur, 335, 339 Nikita, 105 Nilsson, Madame Christine, 219, 223 Nordica, Madame, 104, 182, 324 Norman Neruda, Madame. See Hallé Novello, Madame Clara, 78, 227, 259 Nuneham Park, 38, 46 See Offenbach, Jacques, 79 O’Neill, Mr. Norman, 339 Orchestral Concerts, 125 et seg. d@’Orezy, Baron Bédog, 134 — Baroness Emma, 135 d’Orléans, Duchesse, 218 Orleans House, Twickenham, 40, 47 Orpheus, Gluck’s, 148 Osborne House, 159 Osborne, Mr. Bernal, M.P., 299 de Pachmann, M. Vladimir, 150 Paderewski, 129, 269, 330 Paganini, 104 Parepa, Madame (wife of Carl Rosa), 35, 83, 84, 247, 287 Paris, 154, 180, 187 355 Parkinson, Miss Elizabeth, 108 Parkyns, Lady, 211 Parodi, Madame, 9 Parry, Sir Hubert, 337 — Mr. John, 67 Pas de Quatre, 15 Pasta, Madame, 16 Patey, Madame, 85, 86, 106 Patti, Adelina, 70, 75, 86, 87, 187, 191, 196 e seg., 221, 247, 280, 294, 296, 305, 308, 309, 342, 344, 348 Piatti, Signor, 14, 70, 73, 74 Piccolomini, Mile, 18, 19, 286 Pitt, Mr. Percy, 325 Plancon, M., 109, 222 Ponsonby, Sir Henry, 161 Prince Consort, The, 12, 162 Prince Imperial, 219 Prince of Wales. VII (King) See Edward ‘Princes Theatre, 55, 57 Pringle, Lady Elizabeth, 168 Promenade Concerts, 37 Prussia, King of, 165 — Queen of, 90, 165 Puzzi, Madame Giacinta, 286 Pyne, Miss Louisa, 31, 63, 85, 257 — — Susan, 31, 64 Quilter, Mr. Roger, 339 Rachel, Madame, 60 Radford, Mr. Robert, 343 Rampolla, Cardinal, 241 Randegger, Signor Alberto, 85, 307, 319, 248 Ravogli, Giulia, 107, 148, 307 Redeker, Madame, 131 Reed, Mr. and Mrs. German, 66, 67, 68, 69 Reeves, Herbert Sims, 141, 142 — Sims, 8, 33, 39, 51, 65, 81, 142, 259 Reichardt, Herr Alexander, 78, 166 de Reszke, M. Jean, 130, 187, 279, 315 — M. Edouard, 187, 279, 316 de Reuter, Baron and Baroness, 223 356 Richards, Brinsley, 28, 275 Richter, Dr. Hans, 93, 171, 176, 332 ef seq. Rigby, Mr. Vernon, 86 Ring des Nibelungen at Bayreuth, 172 et seq. Ristori, Madame, 60, 242 Robertson, Miss Agnes (Mrs. Boucicault), 312 Romeo and Juliet, Berlioz’s, 61, 147; Gounod’s, 187 Ronald Landon, 336 Ronalds, Mrs., 301 Rosa, Carl, 120, 122, 246, 318 Rosavella, Mlle, 133 Rosebery, Lord, 227 Rosenthal, Moritz, 331 Rossini, 157, 203 de Rothschild, Mr. Alfred, 220,294 — Baron and Baroness Meyer, 226 — Lord and Lady, 229 — Miss Hannah, 227 Royal Academy of Music, 217, 299 Royal Amateur Orchestral So- ciety, 211 Roze, Mlle Marie, 91, 121, 130, 158 Rubinstein, Anton, 115, 131, 192 Rumbold, Lady, 211 Rumford, Mr. Kennerley, 326, 348 Russell, Henry, 336 St. Cecilia (Benedict’s), 258 Saint-Saéns, M. Camille, 135, 143, 264, 265 ef seg. Sainton-Dolby, Madame, 82, 86 Sainton, M., 82 Salome (Massenet’s opera), the origin of its title, 327. Sammarco, Signor, 323 Samson and Dalila, 265 Santley, 32, 50, 82, 102, 106, 131, 211, 257, 307 Sarasate, Sefior Pablo, 96, 133, 134 Savoy, Lutheran chapel in the, 48 — Theatre, 263 Saxe-Coburg-Gotha, Duke Ernest of, 224 Schoell, Rev. Dr,, 48 INDEX Schumann, 57 — Madame Clara, 114, 115, 232 Scott, Mr. Clement, 239, 243 — Mr. Cyril, 339 Sembrich, Madame, 234, 280, 324 Sessi, Mlle Mathilde, 91 Sgambati, Signor, 243 Shakespeare, William, 95, 294 Shaw-Stewart, Lady Octavia, 45 — — Sir Michael, 12, 41, 42, 45 Sherrington, Madame Lemmens, 8 Silas, M. Edouard, 61, 261, 262 “Sing, Birdie, sing,” 263 Sivori, Signor Camillo, 35, 245, 249 Smart, Henry, 34 Soldene, Miss Emily, 83 Sontag, Henrietta, 9, 10, 13, 17 Sonzogno, Signor, 253 Spalding, Mr. Augustus, 213 Stanford, Sir Charles Villiers, 338 Staudigl (baritone), 56 Sterling, Madame Antoinette, 94, 338 Stevens, General, 251 Strauss, Johann, 27 — Richard, 271 et seq. Sullivan, Sir Arthur, 67, 68, 94, 119, 212, 262, 319 Swansea, Patti at, 198 Symphonie Fantastique, Berlioz’s, 144, 147, 152 Tagliafico, Signora, 250 Taglioni, 15 Tamagno, Signor, 240 Tamberlik, Signor, 25, 26 Tamburlini, Signor, 254 Tannhiiuser, first performed in England, 137; in Paris, 180; in Munich, 181 Targioni-Tozzetti, 241 Ternina, 181 Terry, Mr. (father of Ellen Terry), 312 — Mr. and Mrs. Edward, 281 — Miss Ellen, 343 Tetrazzini, Madame, 320, 321, 346 Teyte, Miss Maggie, 326, 343 INDEX Thalberg, 13 Thillon, Madame Anna, 30 Thomas, M. Ambroise, 190 — Madame, 190 — Goring, 121, 149 Titchatschek, 56 Titiens, Madame Theresa, 19, 20, 130 Tosti, Signor, 242 Tracy, Miss Minnie, 251 Traviata, 247 Trebelli-Bettini, Madame, 87, 88, 97, 131 Trebelli, Signor, 37 Tree, Sir Herbert, 346, 347 Trial by Jury, 68 Tristan and Isolde (Wagner’s), 181 Tschaikowsky, 268, 269 Valleria, Alwina, 101, 102 Vaughan- Williams, Dr., 339 Venice, 253 Verdi, 245 et seq. Vert, Mr. N., 187, 189 Vestris, Madame, 313 Vianesi, Signor, 251 Victoria (Queen), 6, 9, 12, 41, 158, 160, 292 Villiers, Lady Clementina, 217 Vincent, Miss Ruth, 326 Violinists, 328 e¢ seq. Vogl, Herr u. Frau, 173, 181 Von Possart, Herr, 272 Wagner, Frau Cosina, 177, 179, 195 — Mile Johanna, 17, 173 357 Wagner, Richard, 17, 132, 165, 170 et seq., 254 ‘* Wahnfried ” (Wagner’s home at Bayreuth), 177 et seg. Waldegrave, Frances, Countess of, 18, 38, 39, 40, 42, 43, 161 Waldweben, Wagner’s, 135 Wallace, Vincent, 32 Waller, Lewis, 308 Ward, Madame Geneviéve, 314 — Mrs. Dudley, 217, 232 Warwick, Countess of, 168, 276, 277 Weber, 9, 34 Weiss, Mr. Willoughby, 70, 74 Weldon, Georgina, 185 Wellington, Duke of, 6, 11 Westminster, Marquis and Mar- chioness of, 45 Westmorland, Earl of, 217 White, Miss Maude Valerie, 102 Wieniawski, M. Henri, 136 Wigan, Alfred, 312 Wilberforce (Bishop of Oxford), 218 Wilhelmj, Herr, 94, 131, 177 Windsor Castle, 159, 160, 277 Wiseman, Cardinal, 218 Wolff, M. Johannes, 105, 307 Wood, Sir Henry, 107, 124, 273, 336 Woodford, Mr. John, 212 Wortham, Colonel, 283 Wylde, Dr. Henry, 60, 125, 126, 140 Wyndhan, Sir Charles, 307 Ysaye, M., 328 PRINTED BY HAZELL, WATSON AND VINEY, LD., LONDON AND AYLESBURY. aa oa eres errs,