Part 21
To return to his operatic compositions, there were some others during this gloomy period of frequent failures which achieved success, among them, “Vendome en Espagne” (1823), which he wrote with Auber, “Le Roi Réné” composed for the fête of Louis XVIII., “Marie” (1826) and “L’Illusion” (1829), which enhanced his reputation and paved the way for the two works which were to be the crowning successes of his life. “Zampa” was produced May 3, 1831, and aroused something like a furor in Paris, though its most enduring success has been made in Germany. It still keeps the boards upon the continent, and though rarely heard in this country, its overture remains a conspicuous feature of concert programmes. With “Zampa” Hérold’s success was firmly grounded, though the work bears unmistakable indications of German influence and is written in the broad, serious style characteristic of the German composers. It is for this reason that it has been more favorably received in Germany than in France, though its merit was fully recognized by Hérold’s own countrymen. It restored the waning fortunes of the Opera Comique, saved it from ruin, and made Hérold a popular favorite. At this time he was chorus master, but a few weeks after his success he was dismissed by the new director upon the excuse that it was necessary to retrench. He had only a verbal contract, but he appealed to the courts, and his appeal was sustained after nine months of litigation, the courts holding that there was an implied contract. He accordingly was reinstated, but soon the fortunes of the Opera were involved in another financial crisis. The director sought to retrieve them with a sensation and in 1831 brought out the musical play of the “Marquise de Brinvilliers.” Scribe and Castil-Blaze wrote the text together, and nine composers, whose names have been given elsewhere, arranged the musical setting. The combined efforts of the collaborators, however, failed to produce anything more than a nine days’ wonder, and the doors of the Opera were reluctantly closed. Six months later a new location was chosen and the opera once more made its appeal to the public with a new work by Hérold, “La Médecine sans Médecin.” Its success fell far short of that which “Zampa” had enjoyed, but it served the purpose of keeping the Opera on its feet until Hérold had finished another work which was destined to complete his fame and to restore the Opera Comique to its old prestige. It was, alas, his swan song. “Le Pré aux Clercs” was performed Dec. 15, 1832. It had a success of enthusiasm. Unlike “Zampa,” it was a purely national opera, with an historical theme treated with genuine French grace and spirit, and abounding in characteristic French music which commended it to the Parisians. Its reception was attended with a remarkable display of excitement and popular acclamations. The audience rose to a man and called for the composer but he was unable to make an appearance. The fatigues of rehearsals and the tumultuous events of the evening were too much for his already enfeebled condition. He was taken home, but had hardly arrived there when he had a dangerous hemorrhage. He lived but four weeks after his great success, dying of consumption Jan. 19, 1833, the same disease which had proved fatal in his father’s case. His funeral took place on the 21st. He was buried at Père la Chaise, near Méhul, and addresses were made at the grave by Fétis and Saint-George. He left a widow, Adèle Elise Rollet-Hérold, to whom he was married in 1827, and three children, Ferdinand, an attorney, Adèle, and Eugenie who also was a musician. “Le Pré aux Clercs” was not his last work in the list of performances, for after his death the overture and four numbers of another opera, “Ludovic,” were found among his papers. The work was completed and produced with success by Halévy. His biographer, M. Jouvin, says of it: “In what proportion did this posthumous child of Hérold belong to its father and its godfather? I know not. I have not the opera of ‘Ludovic’ under my eye. I have not been admitted into the secret of the work done by the musician who two years later wrote ‘La Juive’ and ‘L’Eclair’ without taking breath. I only charge myself to report, without guaranteeing, a tradition which attributes to Hérold the overture and four pieces in the first act of this lyric drama.”
[Illustration:
HÉROLD’S TOMB IN PÈRE LA CHAISE, PARIS. ]
The peculiarities of Hérold’s style which distinguished him from the other operatic composers of his period were the freshness and originality of his ideas, the grace and refinement of his conceptions, which are displayed to special advantage in his ballets, the variety of his melodies, and the highly emotional and imaginative character of the man himself. He was the legitimate successor of Boieldieu and reflected his romantic moods, and it will be remembered coöperated with him in his first work after his return to Paris from Italy. With these purely subjective qualities he combined an instrumentation that is always rich in color and dramatic in effect, an intimate knowledge of the stage and its resources, and a superior degree of literary taste and culture, though the latter distinction did not always save him from accepting commonplace and sometimes worthless libretti. The reason for this is probably to be found in his prodigious activity, which induced him to accept such poor books in the hope that his music would excuse them, rather than spend his time in idleness. Though possessed of undoubted originality if not of actual inspiration, he was greatly influenced by the works of the composers, though in no sense can he be considered a copyist. During his Italian visit he was much impressed with Paisiello. In a letter to his mother about the year 1815 he says: “I have fallen into one error here—that of neglecting M. Paisiello.... I can say that I study much the music of Paisiello and find it delicious.” The Italian influences did not last long however. Upon his return to Paris he was devoted to the music of Méhul, with whom he had studied in the Conservatory. Rossini influenced him greatly for a time and how far he had studied Mozart is shown in “Zampa,” which was constructed upon the lines of “Don Juan.” In this connection, M. Scudo, in his criticism of “Zampa,” makes the following pertinent remarks: “The side of this work that stands open to criticism is, as nearly always with Hérold, confusion of styles. The austere and sober phrase of Méhul is found in company with Italian bravura. The chansonette disperses with its importunate cockcrow all the phantoms worked from the supernatural. Mozart, Méhul, Weber, Rossini, Auber, how many more?—may be found in the hybrid formation of this superb monster. Under the mobile structure of that orchestra, so full of presentiments and mysteries, you distinguish Weber. Those duets, those Venetian colored finales, conceived, worked with the vigorous authority of a master, speak to you of Rossini, while here and there the small details, the grace, the spirit, the lively and piquant features murmur in your ears the names of Boieldieu and Auber.” His own thoughts which he committed to paper, however, and which were found among his documents after his death, will give a clue to his style and to his ideas of what constituted artistic excellence. Among many other things he says: “Melodies must come from the soul to reach the soul of the auditors.” “Try to find a just medium between the vague music of Sacchini and the vigor of Gluck. Think often of Mozart and his beautiful _airs de mouvement_.” “Lean always to the side of melodies free from platitude.” “In all arts, and particularly in music for some time past, people are skilful in finishing and polishing without reflecting how much more important is a good general design.” “Of melody as much as possible.” “Declaim with truth and strength.” “Find themes which bring tears.” “‘Great sorrows are silent’ observed Seneca. Thus Hero seeing the floating corpse of Leander held her peace. He who goes to the Opera only to hear the music had better frequent the concert-room. The musical tragedian ought above all to sing but ever in agreement with the situation.” And then, as if to answer the comments of some of his critics: “Why not use several styles in a great work? A chief priest can sing in the ancient manner, the others in the modern.” “Church music ought to pray for those who listen to it, as said Salieri.” M. Gustave Chouquet, the keeper of the Museum of the Paris Conservatory, has well summed up the characteristics of Hérold in his analysis of “Zampa”: “In a word we recognize in ‘Zampa’ the hand of a master, who to the spirit of Italian music unites the depth of the German and the elegance of the French School.”
The principal works of Hérold include twenty-two operas, one cantata, five ballets, three sonatas, three string quartets, two symphonies, seven caprices, seventeen rondos and divertissements, seven fantasies and three variations. Of the operas the following have been the most successful: “La jeunesse de Henri V.” (1815); “Charles de France” (1816); “Les Rosières” (1817); “La Clochette” (1817); “Le Muletier” (1823); “Vendome en Espagne” (1823); “Marie” (1826); “L’lllusion” (1829); “Zampa” (1831); “La Médecine sans Médecin” (1832) and “Le Pré aux Clercs” (1832). Though none of these works can be called familiar in this country, it can hardly be doubted that the two operas “Zampa” and “Le Pré aux Clercs,” which saved the Opera Comique, and which paved the way for Ambroise Thomas, Bizet, Massenet and the modern French school, would repay revival and achieve fresh popularity.
[Illustration: Geo. P. Upton]
[Illustration:
Fac-simile musical manuscript written by Hérold. ]
[Illustration:
Fac-simile autograph letter from Hérold to his mother. ]
[Illustration:
MEDALLION OF HÉROLD.
By David d’Angers, in 1816. ]
[Illustration:
DANIEL FRANÇOIS ESPRIT AUBER
_From an engraving by C. Deblois, 1867._ ]
[Illustration: [Fleuron]]
DANIEL FRANÇOIS ESPRIT AUBER
A life more peaceful, happy and regular, nay, even monotonous, or one more devoid of incident than Auber’s, has never fallen to the lot of any musician. Uniformly harmonious, with but an occasional musical dissonance, the symphony of his life led up to its dramatic climax when the dying composer lay surrounded by the turmoil and carnage of the Paris Commune. Such is the picture we draw of the existence of this French composer, in whose garden of life there grew only roses without thorns; whose long and glorious career as a composer ended only with his life; who felt that he had not lived long enough, and who clung tenaciously to life, energetically refusing to drop this mantle of mortality, postponing the final moment by the mere strength of his powerful determination to live.
Auber, the most Parisian of Parisians, who could never tear himself away from his dear native city, even for a short excursion in the summer, was born,—as it happened—at Caen, towards the end of the month of January, 1782. I say, “as it happened,” because the composer’s parents were not settled in that town and were only staying there temporarily when the future author of “La Muette de Portici” made his entrance upon the stage of life. His father was a print-seller in Paris. Being a thorough business man he wished his son to become a business man also. To this end, when his child had received a somewhat summary education, and had almost reached man’s estate, he sent him to London to begin his career in a house of business.
Even at this early period the young Auber was considered a distinguished amateur musician. He played the piano well, and had made successful attempts at minor composition, such as ballads, small morceaux for the piano, etc. Realizing that he was not fitted for a business life, but for that of a musician, Auber returned to Paris, where he was not long in making for himself a reputation in the fashionable world. He was looked upon as an agreeable pianist and a graceful composer, with sparkling and original ideas. He pleased the ladies by his irreproachable gallantry and the sterner sex by his wit and vivacity. During this early period of his life Auber produced a number of _lieder_, serenade duets, and pieces of drawing-room music, including a trio for the piano, violin and violoncello, which was considered charming by the indulgent and easy-going audience who heard it. Encouraged by this success, he wrote a more important work, a concerto for violins with orchestra, which was executed by the celebrated Mazas at one of the Conservatoire concerts. He also composed, for his friend Lamare, concertos which were applauded by the general public. This Lamare was a violoncellist of great talent and erudition, but so barren of musical creative power that he could not originate the simplest melody nor compose a note for his own instrument. Auber adapted his music so cleverly to the playing of the eminent instrumentalist that Lamare said to him: “Nobody would think, my dear Auber, that I was not the composer of these concertos, so strongly are they impressed with my personality.” To which Auber replied: “Since that is so, my dear Lamare, the concertos shall be published in your name.” And as a matter of fact they were so published, successively, under the name of the violoncellist. The public thought he was the author of them, but musicians were aware of the truth, which has been an open secret for a considerable time.
It is evident that although Auber made his début as a dramatic composer at a late period, he early practised this art as an amateur, producing his compositions in the Paris drawing-rooms. These drawing-rooms were his academy of music up to the time when, convinced that he had still much to learn in the practice of counterpoint, he sought assistance from the illustrious Cherubini, whom he was destined one day to succeed as director of the Paris Conservatoire.
The first work that Auber submitted to public judgment was a comic opera in one act, entitled “Le Séjour Militaire,” which was produced at the Théâtre Feydeau in 1813. Auber was then thirty-two years old. This piece was not his first attempt in theatrical work, however; for he had previously written a comic opera for the Prince de Chimay, and before this, still another work for a small orchestra, which was represented in an amateur theatre. He had also composed a Mass, with orchestra, in which occurred the admirable chant which he used at a later date in the famous prayer in his masterpiece, “La Muette de Portici.” “Le Séjour Militaire” may be regarded merely as marking a date in the biography of the French composer. This piece, of somewhat doubtful buffoonery, passed unnoticed by the general public. Indeed the musician himself was very slightly impressed with it, being but imperfectly inspired when he wrote it. Nevertheless a writer then celebrated, M. Martinville, discovered in this score several pretty _motifs_ and a great deal of wit.
From 1813 to 1819 Auber remained silent, and it might have been thought that he had ceased to exist. What became of him during this long period? He still continued to appear in society and, when in the humor, to write as an amateur fugitive pieces of music set to subjects of the same character. He asked dramatic poets to write pieces for him, but they were not very anxious to do so after the failure of “Le Séjour Militaire.”
About this time the composer’s father died, leaving a widow and two sons without fortune. During this period, when the eminent musician that was to be was still pursuing his studies, he found himself face to face with pecuniary difficulties; but he supported them bravely, never complaining.
Planard, the most fashionable librettist of that day, was accustomed to gather around him in his little house at Passy—which was not then considered one of the districts of Paris—a company of amateurs and artists. There was music, and Auber, one of the most assiduous habitués of the house, accompanied on the piano. In this way it came to pass that Madame Planard took a great interest in Auber and espoused his cause.
“My dear,” she said to her husband, “can you not entrust one of your poems to poor Auber, who is so well-bred, so witty, and so good an accompanist? I am convinced that he will earn himself a name among our composers. It is a pity that he should compose operatic airs without words because he has none to work on.”
Women always gain the day, whenever they plead in favor of the unknown and the lowly, and Auber was then both unknown and lowly. Madame Planard pleaded so well in this particular instance that her protégé obtained from Planard two pieces instead of one to set to music. The first was a piece in one act, entitled “Le Testament et le Billet Doux,” which unfortunately met with a much less favorable reception from the public than “Le Séjour Militaire,” and that had been a failure. The next venture was “La Bergère Châtelaine,” in three acts, and it made ample amends for all previous mortifications. Its success was unanimous and brilliant. None too soon indeed. Had the author lost this opportunity his future as a composer would have been irretrievably ruined, for no poet would have entrusted him with a libretto.
At the time when Auber produced “La Bergère Châtelaine,” the turning-point in his artistic career, he was thirty-eight years of age, just a year younger than Rossini when he closed his with that immortal masterpiece “Guillaume Tell.”
Planard, having witnessed the failure of “Le Testament,” would have liked to take back the libretto of “La Bergère Châtelaine” which he had handed over to Auber some time before. But now he was very happy to have another of his pieces, in three acts, entitled “Emma,” set to music by the composer. This work was represented at the Théâtre Feydeau in 1821, and was an extraordinary success. The high road to fortune was now open, and for more than forty years the composer’s career was one long series of triumphs, which continued to the last day of his life. One might have thought, after the complete success of the two last comic operas upon which Auber and Planard collaborated, that they would have continued to work together for a long time; but it was not so. Scribe had just then attained his brilliant position as a writer of vaudevilles. Fate had decided that there should be a partnership between him and Auber, a partnership which of all the combinations that ever existed between word-writer and musician was the happiest and most lasting.
What was the secret of the union of these two minds, these two talented beings who were so well constituted to understand each other that they seem to have been born the one for the other, to work together for their common glory and to the great delight of the public who applauded them so well? It was in this wise.
A vaudeville by Scribe had just been accepted at the Théâtre de Madame, which he rightly expected would meet with success. For a certain morceau to be sung during the progress of the play he thought that the air of the round in “La Bergère Châtelaine” was wonderfully well adapted. Although he had never yet had an opportunity of seeing Auber, Scribe did not on that account hesitate to write to him. This historic letter and Auber’s reply to it have been preserved, and they are too interesting not to be reproduced here, the more so as they are comparatively unknown. They are as follows:
“TO MONSIEUR AUBER:—
“Will you kindly permit me, Sir, to place in a vaudeville which I am just now writing for the Théâtre de Madame, your round from ‘La Bergère Châtelaine’ which is so delightful and justly popular? I will not conceal from you, Sir, that I have promised my director to make the piece succeed, and that I have counted upon using your charming music.”
This note is quite gallant, but Auber replies to it with just as much gallantry:
“TO MONSIEUR SCRIBE:—
“My round is but a trifle, Sir, and you are so gifted that you can dispense with my poor assistance. However, if I grant you what you ask, although you do not really need it, and you will allow me to lend you at the same time the fine voice and pretty face of Mme. Boulanger, I think we should both do a good stroke of business.”
The good stroke of business consisted in the thrice-happy collaboration which resulted from this exchange of letters, a collaboration only broken by the death of Scribe, which took place many years before that of Auber. On one occasion Auber said to me: “I owe my successes to Scribe. Without his assistance I feel that I should never have obtained the place I occupy in the musical world.” Without detracting in any degree from the value of Auber’s music, it may be said that this statement is true; for the composer needed a librettist of such versatile wit and resource of imagination that I do not see amongst the comic-opera librettists a single poet who could have taken Scribe’s place in this work. During the whole of his life Auber was accustomed to compose the principal airs of his operas before the libretto was written and almost without regard to the character of the scene in which these airs would be used; and to these melodies Scribe wrote words with extraordinary ease. Auber sang the airs, accompanying himself on the piano, while Scribe, pencil in hand, instantly found the verses naturally suited to the character of the music, cleverly adapting himself to its rhythm, oftentimes very strange. I may mention the “Seguidille” in “Le Domino Noir,” which was a singularly difficult test of Scribe’s powers. Another instance is the song of Henriette in “L’Ambassadrice,” which was also written by Auber without words. It was an astonishing feat on the part of Scribe to find the comic and original verses which he adapted to this melody, the scansion of which is so very singular.
[Illustration:
CARICATURE OF AUBER.
From the Paris Charivari. ]
[Illustration:
BUST OF AUBER.
By Danton; in the Carnavalet Museum, Paris. ]