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CROTCHETS  AND  QUAVERS 


REVELATIONS 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA 


BY    MAX   MAEETZEK. 


FACULTY  OF  MUSIC 

fof®  n 

UNIVERSITY  OF  TORONTO 

NEW  YORK: 

S.FRENCH,    121    NASSAU-STREET. 
1855. 


M. 


Entered,  according  to   Act  of  Congress,   in  the   year  one   thousand  eight  hun- 
dred and  fifty-five, 
By   MAX    MARETZEK, 

In  the    Clerk's  Office  of  the   District   Court  of  the  United    States,  for  the 
Southern  District  of  New  York. 


206107 


TO    THE    PUBLIC. 


SINCE  some  five  months,  when  the  first  announce- 
ment that  I  was  about  to  write  the  present  volume 
appeared  in  one  of  the  morning  Journals  of  New 
York,  it  has  been  impossible  for  me  to  pass  up  or 
down  Broadway  without  subjecting  myself  to  a  cross- 
examination  respecting  it.  Did  I  enter  one  of  the 
ferry-boats,  I  was  morally  certain  to  meet  some  ac- 
quaintance who  questioned  me  touching  my  book. 
If  I  visited  a  place  of  amusement,  or  sped  to  a  sum- 
mer-retreat for  the  purpose  of  wiling  away  a  'few 
days  in  forgetfulness  of  the  baton  I  had  previously 
been  wielding,  I  was.  unable  to  do  so  without  having 
the  inquiry  put  to  me — 

"  When  my  <  Autobiography '  was  to  be  published  ?" 
If  Napoleon,  (the  first  of  the  two  with  whom  his- 
tory has  any  business)  as  well  as  P.  T.  Barnum,  have 
written  their  autobiographies ;  when  Jean  Jacques 
Rousseau  and  Mr.  Henry  Wikoff  have  published 
their  "  Confessions,"  while  George  Sand  and  Mrs. 
Mowatt  have  given,  or  are  giving,  the  details  of  their 
lives  to  the  world,  it  may  not  be  altogether  astonish- 


TO    THE    PUBLIC. 


ing,  that  a  belief  in  a  certain  amount  of  self-glorifica- 
tion on  my  part,  should  have  found  an  entry  into  the 
imagination  of  rny  friends  and  acquaintances. 

Let  me  disabuse  them.  I  am  neither  a  hero,  nor 
have  I  any  pretence  to  the  "  principality  of  humbug." 
Neither  a  great  philosopher,  nor  a  very  small  diplo- 
matist, I  am  equally  unable  to  drape  my  shoulders 
with  the  mantle  of  an  authoress,  or  to  draw  the  petti- 
coats of  an  actress  around  my  lower  person.  Nor 
have  I  the  self-conceit  to  eulogize  myself  for  those  good 
qualities  which  I  believe  in  my  possession  of,  nor  the 
self-knowledge  to  testify  to  those  weaknesses  which 
doubtless  I  possess.  Some  of  these  last  this  volume 
will  doubtless,  unconsciously  upon  my  part,  disclose 
to  you.  Should  it  do  so,  I  feel  assured  that  you  will 
deal  gently  with  me. 

Certain  is  it,  that  during  the  first  three  years  of  my 
residence  in  New  York,  I  carried  out  four  regular 
seasons  of  Italian  Opera.  This  alone  was  more  than 
any  one  had  done  in  this  quarter  of  the  world,  since 
Christopher  Columbus  first  discovered  it.  My  friends 
and  followers,  as  well  as  the  Press,  then  dubbed  me 
the  "  Napoleon  "  of  the  Opera.  But  when  in  my  fifth 
season,  exhausted  by  .previous  losses,  and  the  exertions 
consequent  on  crushing  an  opposition  at  half-prices  of 
admission,  J  succumbed  beneath  the  attempt  to  carry 
it  to  a  close,  I  received  one  morning  the  following 
Jines:  v.(* 

"  i  The  Napoleon  of  the  Opera  '  has  at  last  made  it 
evident,  that  he  is  simply  its  '  Don  Quixote.'  " 

The  anonymous  writer  had  evidently  imagined  that 


TO    THE   PUBLIC.  V 

my  feelings  would  be  hurt  by  the  receipt  of  this  brief 
communication. 

Let  me  seize  on  this  opportunity  of  assuring  him 
that  he  was  completely  mistaken.  It  is  with  some- 
thing like  pride  and  satisfaction,  that  I  acknowledge 
his  having  struck  the  nail  completely  upon  the  head. 
In  fact,  I  conscientiously  accept  the  denomination  of 
the  "  Don  Quixote  "  of  the  Opera,  in  preference  to 
the  name  of  its  Napoleon,  which  has  been  bestowed 
upon  many  before,  and  will  most  assuredly  be  applied 
to  so  many  after  me. 

Don  Quixote,  my  good  friend,  if  you  will  allow 
me  so  to  call  you,  was  in  every  respect  a  straight- 
forward, most  gallant,  persevering  and  energetic 
knight,  who  was  willing  to  shed  the  last  drop  of  his 
blood  in  the  cause  of  honor,  truth,  and  his  lady-love, 
the  peerless  Dulcinea  del  Toboso. 

Indeed,  the  noble  Don  committed  only  one  small 
mistake.  Nor  do  I  pretend  to  say,  but  that  this  error 
may  be  very  fairly  attributed  to  his  maternal  relative. 
He  was  born  too  late. 

When  he  made  his  entry  into  the  world,  the  fight- 
ing for  truth,  honor,  and  our  lady-loves,  had  gone 
completely  out  of  fashion.  It  was  simply  ridiculous. 

Had  his  mother  not  made  this  grievous  error,  or, 
rather,  had  some  "  strong-minded  "  female  taken  the 
trouble  of  his  birth  upon  herself,  som£  two  or  three 
hundred  years  earlier,  he  would  possibly  have  rivalled 
the  Cid,  or  have  become  a  second  King  Arthur. 

As  far  as  concerns  my  operatic  and  musical  Don 
Quixotism,  it  can,  however,  scarcely  be  said  that  I 


Vi  TO    THE   PUBLIC. 

arrived  in  the  United  States  by  any  means  too  late. 
On  the  contrary,  little  in  the  shape  of  Italian  Opera 
had  previously  been  attempted  here.  My  naturaliza- 
tion in  this  part  of  the  world  has,  in  all  probability, 
been  a  trifle  too  early.  At  all  events,  until  the  ad- 
vent of  my  Cervantes,  I  accept  right  willingly  the 
title  of  the  "  Don  Quixote  of  Opera "  in  America. 
My  Dulcinea  del  Toboso  has  been  the  Art  of  Music. 
As  for  my  Rosinante,  who  can  doubt  but  that  this 
was  indisputably  the  patronage  of  "Upper  Tendom" 
— a  meagre  and  lazy  mare  who  would  not  go  ahead, 
in  spite  of  corn  and  spurs.  My  agents  were  veritable 
Sancho  Panzas.  They  looked  after  their  own  inte- 
rests, and  while  I  was  absorbed  in  the  dream  of  my 
Dulcinea,  kept  their  eyes  wide  open  and  most  un- 
poetically  fixed  upon  the  possible  loaves  and  fishes. 
Many  first  tenors  were  there,  whom  I  had  fancied 
giants,  that  turned  out  to  be  nothing  but  wind-mills, 
while  the  prime  donne,  who  had  been  rated  by  me 
as  faithful  maids  of  honor  to  my  Dulcinea,  proved 
too  often  to  be  but  little  better  than  dairy-maids  ;  and 
the  enemies  whom  I  had  to  encounter,  not  unfre- 
quently  exhibited  themselves,  ere  the  conclusion  of 
the  combat,  as  mere  Italian  barbers  or  hotel-waiters 
in  disguise. 

Having  thus  frankly  acknowledged  myself  to  be 
the  identical  and  original  musical  Quixote  of  this 
continent,  to  you,  my  dear  Public,  it  may  very  clearly 
be  seen  that  I  could  have  had  no  intention  of  writing 
my  autobiography. 


TO     THE   PUBLIC.  VU 

The  fact  is,  that  only  great  men  write  and  publish 
their  own  memoirs. 

According  to  the  verdict  of  the  world,  which  is  in 
some  shape  your  own,  Don  Quixote  is,  in  spite  of  all 
his  good  qualities,  considered  as  nothing  more  than  a 
great  fool. 

Now,  although  "  The  Autobiography  of  a  Great 
Fool"  strikes  me  as  being  anything  but  a  bad  title  for 
a  work,  as  well  as  a  decidedly  original  one,  my  amiable 
Public,  I  must  confess  to  you  that  I  do  not  feel  alto- 
gether vain  enough  of  my  qualifications  to  under- 
take it. 

You  ask  me,  then—"  What  is  your  book,  if  it  be 
not  an  Autobiography  ?  Is  it  an  onslaught  on  the 
Direction  of  the  Academy  of  Music  ?  Is  it  a  return 
to  that  body  for  having  twice  promised  you  the  lease 
of  that  House,  and  on  second  thoughts,  and  a  re-con- 
sideration of  the  matter,  not  having  kept  their  pro- 
mise?" 

Most  certainly  not,  my  good  friends.  Such  a  fancy 
of  retaliation  has  never  crossed  me. 

Not  only  have  I  never  dreamed  of  endeavoring  to 
avenge  that  breach  of  promise,  but — will  you  allow 
me  to  whisper  a  word  or  two  in  your  ears  ? — I  feel  an 
almost  unbounded  gratitude  to  the  Directors  of  the 
Academy  for  having  suffered  it  to  slip  entirely  from 
their  memories. 

Some  have  insinuated,  and  this  too  has  been  even 
publicly  done,  that  I  had  taken  the  pen  in  my  hand, 
for  the  purpose  of  exposing  the  operatic  coup  d'etats 
of  a  certain  diplomatic  Chevalier,  who  occupied  the 


Viii  TO    THE   PUBLIC. 

post  of  acting  Manager  in  the  Academy  during  the 
last  season,  and  with  whom  I  was  unfortunate  enough 
not  always  to  agree. 

This  is,  it  were  almost  needless  to  say,  an  immense 
mistake. 

The  Chevalier  has  quitted  the  battle-ground.  Con- 
sequently there  is  no  further  reason  for  musical  pole- 
mics. A  great  Diplomatist  has  absented  himself  from 
the  country,  but  this  is  to  you  and  myself  a  matter 
of  small  moment.  So  long  as  the  Princess-Bay  Oys- 
ters are  plenty  and  in  good  condition,  I  think  we 
may  rationally  and  effectually  console  ourselves  for 
the  loss  of  one  Native. 

But  some  reason  there  must  be  for  wrriting  this 
book.  Custom  demands  of  me  a  certain  explanation 
touching  its  appearance. 

The  fact  is,  my  dear  Public,  there  is  an  old  and 
well-worn  Proverb,  which  you  may  possibly  recollect. 
Should  you  not  do  so,  however,  I  will  repeat  it.  It 
is  this — • 

"  Money  is  the  root  of  all  evil." 

It  has  so  chanced,  that  there  have  been  several  pub- 
lishers who  have  applied  to  me  for  this  identical 
volume.  Moreover,  they  were  willing  to  pay  for  its 
German  Anglicism  roundly.  "Who,  under  similar 
circumstances,  would  not  have  written  it  ?  Very 
few,  believe  me ;  and,  one  of  these  is  most  certainly 
not 

Yours,  most  obediently, 

MAX  MAKETZEK. 


FIRST    LETTER. 

TO    HECTOR    BERLIOZ,     PARIS. 
CONTENTS  : 

Music  in  New  York,  in  1848 — The  Astor  Place  Opera  House — Truffi — 
Benedetti,  Rosi — Madame  Laborde — Opera  Quarrels — James  Gor- 
don Bennett  and  Edward  P.  Fry — The  Astor  Place  Riots. 


REVELATIONS    OF   AN   OPERA  MANAGER,  ETC.  11 


LETTER  I. 

TO   HECTOR   BERLIOZ,   PARIS. 

NEW  YORK,  July  25,  1855. 
MY  DEAR  BERLIOZ  : — 

WHEN  you  take  up  this  letter,  open  it,  and  turn  to  the 
signature,  you  will  in  all  probability  imagine  that  you  are 
dreaming.  You  may  remember,  possibly,  that  when  you 
quitted  London  after  English  opera  had  terminated  for  the 
nine  hundred  and  ninety-ninth  time  its  temporary  existence, 
I  promised  to  write  to  you.  Jullien's  management  had  given 
that  highly  respectable  musical  entity  its  nine  hundred  and 
ninety-ninth  burial.  As  times  go,  all  things  considered,  it 
was  very  respectably  managed.  You  and  myself  had  all  the 
trouble  of  preparing  the  corpse  for  the  coffin.  Balfe,  as  the 
doctor,  had  penned  the  last  prescription  ;  Sims  Reeves,  as  a 
native  apothecary,  carried  off  all  the  glory  attendant  upon 
putting  it  out  of  the  land  of  the  living ;  while  that  purely 
mythical  personage,  "  nobody,"  would  seem  to  have  pocketed 
the  whole  of  the  money  its  charms  had  wheedled  from  its  scant 
admirers.  Very  certain  is  it,  that  none  remained. 

Over  seven  years  have  since  elapsed,  but,  one  of  your  own 
French  Proverbs  says,  "  Vdut  mieux  tard  que  jamais"    Ac- 


12  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

cordingly,  I  sit  down  for  the  purpose  of  redeeming  my  pro- 
mise. 

If  you  have  not  yet  learned  it,  which  it  may  be  reasonably 
presumed  in  these  days  of  almost  universal  Journaldom  (a 
great  traveller  informs  me,  that  in  Timbuctoo  they  have  al- 
ready two  newspapers)  you  have,  let  me  inform  you  that 
immediately,  or  almost  immediately  after  you  left  London,  I 
accepted  an  engagement  in  the  United  States.  Shortly 
afterwards,  I  myself,  Max  Maretzek,  became  a  manager. 
Do  not  laugh  and  shake  your  head  incredulously  as  you 
hear  this,  for  let  me  tell  you,  it  is  to  the  full  as  easy  to  be- 
come a  manager  in  America,  as  it  is  in  your  country  to  ob- 
tain the  Croix  d'honneur.  We  are  all  of  us  in  the  hands  of 
chance,  and  either  of  these  is  a  perverse  accident  which  may 
befall  any  human  being.  But,  in  order  to  let  you  know  how 
this  happened,  it  will  be  necessary  for  me  to  tell  you  a  long 
story.  Be  patient  therefore,  and  listen  amiably  as  you  were 
accustomed  to  do,  without  chiding. 

When  I  arrived  in  New  York,  in  the  month  of  September, 
1848, 1  was  immediately  struck  with  the  beauty  of  the  Bay 
and  its  environs.  That  which  principally  delighted  me,  was 
however  its  bright,  clear  and  blue  sky.  Such  a  sky  I  had  not 
seen  since  I  last  left  Naples. 

The  impression  it  made  upon  me  was  so  much  the 
stronger,  as  in  my  leaving  London  towards  the  end  of  August, 
the  English  fog  which  seems  to  concentrate  itself  upon  that 
city,  had  already  acquired  a  consistence  thick  enough  to  be 
sliced  with  a  fish-knife.  Indeed,  to  a  temperate  Neapolitan 
accustomed  to  live  upon  maccaroni,  I  have  always  believed 
that  a  first-rate  London  fog  would  prove  no  unavailable  sub- 
stitute. See,  how  Nature  maltreats  Man.  The  Neapolitan  is 
born  where  the  rarefied  atmosphere  only  develops  instead  of 
appeasing  his  digestive  organs ;  while  the  Londoner  has  a 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  13 

natural  appetite  for  beefsteak  and  porter,  which  nothing  else 
can  possibly  assuage.  Do  not  however  imagine,  although  it 
were  only  for  a  moment,  that  I  intend  entering  into  a  philo- 
sophical disquisition  on  the  moral,  mental  or  physical  varia- 
tions in  Creation ;  but  allow  me  to  say  that  my  determination 
was  at  once  formed  to  remain  in  America,  supposing  it  were 
possible  and  (this  is  for  your  private  ear)  profitable. 

The  Musical  Institutions  which  were  at  this  period  to  be 
found  in  New  York,  consisted  of  a  Philharmonic  Society  and 
an  Italian  Opera  ;  and  the  majority  of  the  members  of  the 
first  of  these,  were  considerably  more  addicted  to  the  enjoy- 
ment of  the  creature  comforts,  than  they  were  to  the  culti- 
vation of  Harmony.  Their  object  was  rather  to- make  a  few 
dollars  by  the  Annual  Subscription  for  four  concerts  than  to 
elevate  the  popular  taste.  As  for  the  propagation  of  a  liking 
for  Classical  Music,  this  was  never  even  thought  of. 

Indeed,  their  repertoire  consisted  always  of  the  same  few 
Symphonies,  works  of  the  old  composers  in  our  Divine 
Science,  which  everybody  has  heard,  although  but  few  have 
comprehended,  since  childhood. 

The  compositions  of  modern  maestri  had  never  even  been 
put  in  rehearsal.  Consequently  they  could  not  be  produced. 
But  I  beg  pardon,  one  Overture  of  yours,  there  was,  "  Les 
francs  juges"  if  I  remember  rightly,  which  had  been  proposed 
for  performance.  It  was  accordingly  placed  in  rehearsal,  but 
after  a  few  repetitions  withdrawn  and  condemned.  This 
enlightened  Society  declared  that  it  was  "  nonsense."  Con- 
sole yourself,  my  dear  Berlioz,  try  another — study  downward 
and  write  in  the  same  manner.  With  time  and  perseverance, 
you  may  succeed  in  lowering  your  musical  genius  to  the 
level  of  the  musical  comprehension  of  the  Philharmonic 
Society  of  New  York.  Perhaps,  I  ought  to  tell  you  that  the 
President  of  this  body  is  a  Mr.  Timms,  who  can  scarcely  be 


14  REVELATIONS    OP  AN 

considered  actively  responsible  for  all  of  their  harmonic  sins. 
He  is  a  good  and  thorough  musician,  but  altogether  far  too 
modest  as  well  as  too  great  a  lover  of  peace  (you  will  say 
that  this  is  singularly  unlike  a  musician),  for  the  position  which 
he  holds.  He  has  the  talent  and  capacity,  but  completely 
lacks  the  energy  to  make  of  the  Philharmonic  Society  that 
which  a  Philharmonic  Society  ought  to  be,  or  at  the  least  to 
attempt  being. 

The  other  musical  institution  which  then  existed  in  New 
York,  was,  as  I  have  previously  mentioned,  the  Italian 
Opera.  My  connection  with  music  in  the  New  World  com- 
menced with  this, — an  establishment  whose  "  failure "  had 
flourished  for  the  last  five  and  twenty  years. 

An  involuntary  smile  curls  your  lip.  You  inquire  how  a 
"  failure  "  can  "  flourish  ?  " 

My  dear  Berlioz,  you  were  born  and  have  been  educated 
in  the  Old  "World.  This  accounts  to  me  for  your  smile. 
You  have  yet  much  to  learn  ere  you  will  be  able  to  compre- 
hend the  New  one.  "  Bursting  up  "  is  here  an  old-established 
rule  of  the  Italian  Opera — a  rule  which  admits  of  no  ex- 
ceptions. Remember,  I  speak  from  a  long  and  personal 
experience.  Yet,  although  continually  "  bursting  up,"  Italian 
opera  flourished  in  the  United  States,  and  what  is  more, 
still  continues  to  flourish. 

But  the  object  of  my  present  letter  is  not  to  record  a  his- 
tory of  all  these  failures.  It  is,  on  the  contrary,  purely  per- 
sonal. Let  me,  therefore,  tell  you  that  are  anxious  to  learn 
something  of  the  establishment  with  which  I  was  to  be  con- 
nected, my  first  evening  in  New  York  was  passed  at  the 
Astor  Place  Opera  House,  where,  per  interim,  an  irregular 
company  was  then  performing  Rossini's  "  Barbiere." 

Most  agreeably  was  I  surprised  on  entering  this  small  but 
comfortably  arranged  bon-boniere.  It  contained  somewhere 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  15 

about  1,100  excellent  seats  in  parquet  (the  Parisian  par- 
terre), dress  circle  and  first  tier,  with  some  700  in  the 
gallery. 

Its  principal  feature  was  that  everybody  could  see,  and 
what  is  of  infinitely  greater  consequence,  could  be  '  seen. 
Never,  perhaps,  was  any  theatre  built  that  afforded  a  better 
opportunity  for  the  display  of  dress.  Believe  me,  that  were 
the  Funamlules  built  as  ably  for  this  grand  desideratum, 
despite  the  locality  and  the  grade  of  performances  at  this  thea- 
tre, my  conviction  is  that  it  would  be  the  principal  and  most 
fashionable  one  in  Paris. 

Now,  the  Astor  Place  Opera  House  had  been  built  barely 
a  year  before  my  arrival  in  New  York,  as  the  programme 
or  prospectus  issued  to  the  subscribers  announced,  "  for  the 
permanent  establishment  of  Italian  opera"  in  this  city. 
Nothing  of  it  now  remains  save  the  external  walls,  internally 
containing  lecture  and  reading-rooms,  library  and  stores; 
with  the  above  permanently  established  phrase,  which  printers 
keep  stereotyped  for  the  programme  or  prospectus  of  all 
managers  and  proprietors,  whether  they  be  present  or  future. 

But  from  my  admiration  of  the  house,  I  was  aroused  by 
the  first  notes  of  the  overture  to  the  "  Barbiere." 

The  orchestra  consisted  of  about  thirty-six  performers  on 
their  individual  instruments.  They  had  a  leader,  Signer 
Lietti,  who  did  not  apparently  consider  it  necessary  to  indi- 
cate the  movement  by  beating  the  time.  On  the  contrary, 
he  was  occupied  in  playing  the  first  violin  part,  fully  uncon- 
scious of  the  other  instruments  in  the  orchestra.  But  I 
wrong  him.  In  order  to  guide  them,  he  was  possessed  with 
the  monomania  of  playing  more  loudly  and  vigorously  upon 
his  fiddle  than  any  of  his  subordinates.  He  trampled  on  the 
floor  as  though  he  had  been  determined  to  work  a  path 
through  the  deal  planking,  and  made  a  series  of  the  most 


16  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

grotesque  faces  with  his  nose,  mouth  and  eyes.  If  you 
have  ever  seen  a  Nuremberg  nut-cracker  in  full  operation, 
you  will  enter  into  my  feelings  as  my  eyes  were  riveted  on 
what  appeared  to  me  the  extraordinary  mechanism  of  this 
individual.  In  the  mean  time,  the  other  fiddlers  not  being 
willing  to  allow  Signor  Lietti's  violin  a  greater  prepon- 
derance of  sound,  exerted  themselves  with  a  purely  musical 
ferocity,  which  you  have  never  seen  equalled.  I  have, 
(although  it  must  be  owned,  not  often)  upon  this  side  of  the 
Atlantic.  It  was  necessary,  however,  that  Lietti  should  be 
heard  by  the  wind-instruments.  He  therefore  began  to 
scrape  his  fiddle.  For  a  moment  I  actually  imagined  that 
he  had  succeeded.  But  until  then,  I  had  not  been  aware 
that  "  diabolical  possession"  had  survived  the  time  of  the 
Apostles.  It  has,  my  dear  Berlioz,  and  the  players  upon 
stringed  instruments  are  indisputably  subject  to  it.  Rossini, 
had  he  listened  to  them,  would  have  been  of  my  opinion. 
After  the  first  eighty  bars  of  the  allegro  movement,  you 
would,  had  you  been  there,  upon  shutting  your  eyes,  have 
undoubtedly  believed  that  you  were  surrounded  by  a  series 
of  saw-mills  in  vigorous  operation.  Under  such  circum- 
stances, the  leader  could  not  of  course  be  heard.  They  soon 
came  out  of  time  (how  could  they  keep  it  ?)  and  confusion 
ensued.  Everybody  felt  himself  individually  called  upon  to 
restore  order.  A  squeak  from  the  piccolo  would  be  heard, 
followed  by  a  loud  squall  from  all  the  wind-instruments,  try- 
ing to  indicate  a  place  for  re-union.  Then  came  a  broad- 
side from  the  trombones  and  horns,  to  restrain  the  already  too 
far  advanced  violins.  It  was  in  vain.  The  screech  from 
the  first  trumpet  was  of  no  use.  Even  the  kettle-drum 
player,  who  began  to  beat  the  right  time  fortissimo  on  his 
instrument,  was  totally  unable  to  stay  the  confusion.  Each 
one  went  his  own  way,  and  made  his  own  speed.  Rossini's 


OPERA    MANAGER    IN    AMERICA.  17 

delicate  overture  was  treated  by  them,  as  history  tells  us 
that  some  unfortunate  criminals  were  treated  in  the  Middle 
Ages.  These  were  tied  by  arm  and  leg  to  the  hind-quarters 
of  four  wild  horses,  which  were  then  driven  by  the  scourge 
in  different  directions.  It  will  be  needless  to  hint  to  a  man 
of  your  erudition,  what  followed  upon  this  proceeding. 

At  last,  straggling  and  worn  out,  one  after  the  other,  some 
few  completely  distanced,  and  Signer  Lietti  by  no  means 
first  in,  they  terminated  the  overture.  The  audience  bestowed 
upon  them  a  round  of  applause,  and  the  leader  demonstrated 
by  three  low  bows,  his  intense  satisfaction  both  with  himself 
and  the  public. 

After  having  heard  Almaviva,  JRosina  and  Basilio,  it  be- 
came unmistakably  evident  to  me,  that  none  of  them  would 
ever  produce  a  revolution  in  the  musical  wTorld.  They  will 
therefore,  in  all  probability,  hate  me  henceforward  for  neglect- 
ing to  tell  you  their  names.  Such,  do  I  grieve  to  say,  is  too 
frequently  musical  gratitude.  It  was  but  shortly  afterwards 
that  I  retired,  instinctively  feeling,  rather  than  knowing,  that 
there  were  several  good  musicians  in  the  orchestra,  who  only 
wanted  purgation  and  a  thoroughly  earnest  and  intelligent 
conductor  to  be  rendered  really  available  and  valuable  as  its 
members. 

It  was  my  intention  on  the  following  morning  to  look  after 
the  choral  department,  and,  on  inquiry,  I  discovered  that 
the  rehearsals  of  this  portion  of  the  troop  took  place  in  a 
store-house  situated  on  the  East  River,  in  which  the  car- 
penters, tailors  and  painters  all  worked.  This  having  been 
arranged  by  the  manager,  in  order  to  keep  them  all  under 
the  vigilant  superintendence  of  his  homme  de  confiance,  who 
rejoiced  in  the  grandiloquent  title  of  "  General-Intendant  of 
E.  P.  Fry's  Opera."  Let  me  assure  you  that  his  Intendance 
was  a  very  general  one.  He  being  at  one  and  the  same 


18  REVELATIONS    OF  AN 

dine,  secretary,  stage-manager,  head-carpenter,  husband  to 
the  first  tailoress,  and,  I  was  about  to  say,  head  cook  and 
bottle-washer  to  the  establishment.  This,  however,  would  be 
going  too  far,  and  I  apologize  for  the  involuntary  injury  to 
his  reputation  my  pen  had  almost  done  him. 

What  was  my  amazement,  when  on  visiting  this  store,  I 
found  that  it  contained  no  more  than  one  large  room ! 

The  carpenters  were  busily  hammering  in  it,  the  tailors 
accompanied  their  labors  with  nigger-songs,  while  at  the 
same  time,  such  of  the  chorus  as  were  inclined  for  work, 
were  studying  and  rehearsing  their  parts.  As  for  the  chorus 
master,  he  seemed  to  be  an  early  riser — a  very  early  riser  to 
one  who  had  been  accustomed  to  London  and  Parisian  life, 
for  although  it  was  then  barely  ten  o'clock,  he  had  very 
evidently  been  already  "  laboring  in  the  vineyard."  Some  of 
the  male  members  of  the  chorus,  on  my  arrival,  were  occu- 
pied in  a  game  of  cards  with  the  "  General  Intendant"  of 
Mr.  Fry's  Opera.  It  may  consequently  be  presumed  by 
you,  my  dear  Berlioz,  that  he  was  evidently  a  rnan  of 
decided  genius,  and  had  already  got  through  his  multifarious 
and  most  curiously  coupled  duties  for  the  day.  In  the  mean 
time,  a  few  of  the  ladies  employed  in  the  chorus,  were 
dividing  their  attention  with  an  impartiality  of  the  most 
praiseworthy  character  between  an  operation  commonly 
called  mending  their  stockings  and  the  study  of  their  parts ; 
while  others  of  a  somewhat  more  staid  and  elderly  appear- 
ance, were  engaged  in  an  earnest  conversation  with  two  of 
the  tailor-boys,  of  which  I  heard  enough,  to  form  an  idea 
that  it  touched  upon  the  stipulations  for  a  private  treaty  of 
commerce,  in  which  the  purloined  silks  and  calicoes  of  Mr. 
Fry  were  most  certainly  destined  to  play  a  very  prominent 
part. 

On  inquiring  more  narrowly  into  the  condition  and  consti- 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  19 

tution  of  the  chorus,  I  discovered  that  the  "  General  Inten- 
dant,"  alone,  did  not  rejoice  in  a  curious  combination  of  avo- 
cations. 

Some  few  of  the  choral-singers,  such,  for  example,  as  a 
certain  Signer  Pauselli,  were  also  engaged  in  the  tailor- 
ing department,  while  a  tailoress  rejoicing  in  the  euphonious 
name  of  Valvasori,  enjoyed  the  distinction  of  being  secured,  in 
addition,  for  the  chorus.  This  subdivision  of  personal  proper- 
ty was  by  no  means  conducive  to  the  undisputed  maintenance 
of  peace.  Occasionally,  it  wTould  give  rise  to  a  serious  dis- 
pute between  such  important  functionaries  as  the  head- 
tailoress  and  the  chorus-master,  touching  the  right  which  this 
one  alleged  to  the  throat  and  lungs,  and  that  other  to  the  eyes 
and  fingers  of  these  enigmatical  beings  who  were  half  tailor 
and  half  vocalist.  Need  it  be  said,  that  having  been  accus- 
tomed to  the  European  school  of  operatic  management,  and 
being  totally  unacquainted  with  the  "  go-ahead"  style  in 
which  theatrical  matters  were  carried  on  in  this  country,  my 
eyes  expanded  upon  all  around  me  with  a  purely  involuntary 
amazement  ?  Could  it  be  possible  that  I  was  really  and  truly 
awake  ?  Was  it  not  rather  some  hideous  nightmare  which 
had  taken  possession  of  my  sleeping  faculties  ?  Determined 
to  prove  this,  I  seized  upon  a  needle  which  the  Signor  Pau- 
selli had  left  in  a  half-finished  doublet,  while  engaged  in  look-? 
ing  for  his  choral  part,  which  had  ingeniously  been  extracted 
from  between  his  person  and  the  seat  of  his  chair  by  some 
one  who  had  lost  his  own,  and  inserted  it  vigorously  into  the 
fleshy  part  of  my  arm.  This  was  done,  in  the  positive 
hope,  my  dear  Berlioz,  of  awakening  myself  from  slumber. 
Indeed,  it  was  effected  with  such  good-will,  that  I  doubt  not, 
were  my  arm  curiously  examined,  the  scar  of  that  wound 
might  be  found  upon  it,  even  at  this  long  lapse  of  time. 

Suffice  it,  that  I  did  not  awake.     All  that  was  around  me, 


20  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

was  but  too  truly  and  too  indubitably,  nothing  but  fact,  and 
lonafide  flesh  and  blood. 

Indeed,  everything  which  I  had  as  yet  seen,  appeared  to 
me  to  demand  a  complete  and  thorough  reformation. 

But  to  apply  the  besom  of  the  reformer  to  the  abuses 
which  existed,  demanded  the  hand  as  well  as  the  will  of  the 
manager.  This  manager,  I  had  not  yet  seen.  To  me,  he 
was  at  this  period,  a  myth,  and  I  determined  accordingly 
upon  reducing  him,  as  soon  as  possible,  to  a  reality.  Making 
my  egress  therefore  from  the  atelier  of  the  tailors,  and  the 
studio  of  the  chorus-singers  of  the  Astor  Place  Opera  House, 
I  bent  my  way  to  the  address  given  me  as  that  of  its  lessee. 
This  was  Mr.  E.  P.  Fry.  When  I  arrived  at  the  house  in 
question,  I  sent  in  my  card,  and  was  speedily  admitted.  He 
was  in  his  private  apartment,  and  was  arranging  his  wig 
when  I  entered  it.  As  he  turned  towards  me,  an  uncomfort- 
able foreboding  of  his  failure  in  his  present  undertaking 
came  over  me,  which  was  probably  produced  by  his  personal 
appearance.  It  would,  very  certainly,  never  have  induced 
me  to  suppose  him  an  operatic  manager.  He  had  the  gene- 
ral appearance  of  a  gentleman,  combined  with  some  degree 
of  oddity ;  and  apparently,  none  of  that  peculiar  finesse  which 
invariably  associates  itself  with  our  ideas  of  an  unprofessional 
operatic  director.  A  finesse,  by-the-by,  which  had  always 
stricken  me  as  the  most  evident  characteristic  of  the  head  of 
Mr.  Lumley,  the  last  European  manager  with  whom  I  had 
been  connected. 

Appearances,  however,  are  very  often  deceitful  in  the  ex- 
treme, and  I  refrained  from  at  once  permitting  myself  to  form 
a  judgment  of  his  capacity. 

His  reception  of  me  was  gracious  enough,  and  we  soon 
entered  into  conversation,  which  naturally  turned  upon  the 
prospects  of  the  approaching  season. 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  21 

He  was  very  evidently  a  well-intentioned  man,  my  dear 
Berlioz,  and  what  is  infinitely  rarer,  a  well-meaning  mana- 
ger. Unfortunately,  he  knew  nothing  whatever  of  the  busi- 
ness he  had  entered  upon,  and  had  but  small  experience  in 
active  life.  The  principles  of  operatic  management  which  he 
ingenuously  avowed,  were  indeed  so  naive,  that  they  abso- 
lutely commanded  from  me  a  large  amount  of  sympathy. 
He  exhibited  in  his  plans  no  symptoms  of  real  and  manly 
energy,  although  a  considerable  amount  of  obstinacy  suffered 
itself  to  become  occasionally  visible. 

But  let  me  jot  down  to  you  the  leading  portions  of  our 
conversation.  It  may  prove  to  you,  that  however  details 
may  differ,  the  same  main  features  characterize  operatic 
management  in  every  portion  of  the  world.  What  these  are, 
you  know  to  the  full  as  well  as  I  do,  and  consequently,  it 
would  here  be  useless  to  specify  them. 

Mr.  Fry  informed  me  that  he  had  engaged  for  his  approacn- 
ing  season,  Signor  Truffi,  Signer  Benedetti  and  Signor  Rossi, 
three  popular  singers,  and  all  of  them  great  favorites  with 
the  New  York  public.  He,  however,  not  liking  them,  had 
sent  his  brother,  W.  H.  Fry,  to  Europe,  for  the  purpose  of 
engaging  others.  I  gently  hinted  to  him,  that  any  favorite 
artists  with  the  public,  whether  good,  bad  or  indifferent,  are 
in  a  managerial  point  of  view,  a  source  of  fortune,  and  should 
on  no  account  be  superseded  until  the  public  are  wearied 
with  them,  or  their  own  demands  upon  the  management 
become  too  enormous  to  admit  of  a  reasonable  prospect  of 
profit  from  their  further  engagement. 

"  That  may  be  all  very  well,"  was  his  reply,  "  as  far  as 
regards  their  merit.  But  these  artists  refused  to  sing  under 
the  former  management  of  Sanquirico  and  Patti,  in  an  opera 
written  by  my  brother." 

In  consequence  of  this,  I  was  left  to  imagine  that  the 


22  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

aforesaid  brother  was  now  sent  out,  to  engage  such  artists  aa 
might  be  able  as  well  as  willing  to  perform  his  compositions. 

At  the  same  time,  I  learned  that  my  manager  had  only 
abandoned  his  former  vocation  as  book-keeper  in  a  large  com- 
mercial house,  for  the  purpose  of  establishing  opera  through 
the  compositions  of  his  brother.  He  being  then  and  now 
fully  and  completely  convinced,  that  his  brother  is  absolutely 
destined  not  only  to  become  the  generator  of  melody,  and  the 
harbinger  of  the  golden  era  in  music  on  this  side  of  the  earth, 
but  also  the  dictator  of  its  present  progress  throughout  the 
world. 

Alas !  my  dear  Berlioz,  you  might  tell  him  how  hard  and 
impossible  a  work  this  is,  after  Art  has  once  taken  its  first 
impetus  in  its  true  direction.  How  much  genius  and  how 
large  an  amount  of  love  have  you  lavished  upon  a  somewhat 
similar  object!  You  have  begun  to  make  the  downward 
descent  in  life,  and,  haply,  when  you  are  over-ripening  on  the 
far  side  of  sixty,  the  public  may  begin  to  feel  that  a  great 
master  is  slowly  passing  away  from  them.  Such  are  the 
earthly  chances  of  a  reformer,  and  such  you  have,  in  a  cer- 
tain shape,  been.  Such  are  the  worldly  prospects  of  an  in- 
ventor, for  such  in  mifsic  you  undoubtedly  are.  Mr.  Fry 
then  knew,  and  even  now,  suspects  not  that  it  is  so.  Will  his 
brother  ever  learn  this  secret  ? 

Speaking  at  some  length  upon  the  public  and  the  press, 
my  manager  further  declared  himself  a  personal  and  im- 
placable enemy  of  James  Gordon  Bennett,  the  Editor  of  the 
New  York  Herald.  In  saying  this,  he  also  seized  the  oppor- 
tunity to  inform  me,  that  he  not  only  intended  to  exclude 
him  and  any  of  the  staff  of  his  journal  from  the  Opera,  unless 
they  paid  at  the  door,  but  also  announced  his  determination 
of  never  advertising  in  any  paper  with  which  James  Gordon 
Bennett  might  in  any  manner  be  connected. 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  23 

Now,  at  this  period,  the  Herald  was  to  New  York  almost 
that  which  the  Times  is  to  London.  It  was,  in  point  of  fact, 
a  necessity. 

«  Oh  !  miserable  man,"  I  thought  to  myself,  as  he  men- 
tioned this ;  "what  are  you  thinking  of?  Do  you  wish  to 
undermine  the  very  artists  that  you  tell  me  are  favorites 
with  the  public,  by  not  announcing  their  performances  in  a 
paper  which  you  admit  has  a  larger  circulation  than  any 
other  which  is  published  in  this  city,  or  indeed  which  may 
be  published  in  the  Union  ? 

Whatever  the  intrinsic  merits  or  demerits  of  the  journal 
in  question  might  be,  this  seemed  so  extraordinary,  that  even 
while  restrained  by  courtesy  from  expressing  my  disapproval 
of  such  a  course,  I  could  not  avoid  asking  him  what  might  be 
the  reason  for  his  entertaining  such  a  decided  enmity  as  he 
then  evinced. 

Upon  my  putting  this  question,  he  told  me  that  some  time 
since,  Mr.  Bennett  had  written,  or  caused  to  be  written, 
some  severe  critical  notices  of  his  brother's  opera  of  "Leonora," 
which  had  been  produced  in  Philadelphia. 

You  know,  my  dear  Berlioz,  that  half  a  drop  of  Croton  oil 
will  for  a  time  completely  disorganize1  the  digestive  faculties. 
In  like  manner  the  meanest  trifles  will  at  times  produce  the 
most  violent  effects ;  and,  causes  which  appear  to  be  harmless, 
may  not  unfrequently  bring  about  the  most  terrible  results. 

Some  four  thousand  years,  more  or  less,  since,  a  fashion- 
able lady  dwelt  in  Greece,  who  was  a  great  beauty.  Her 
name  was  Helen.  Now  this  Helen  took  it  into  her  head, 
being  already  a  married  woman,  to  get  up  a  private  flirtation 
with  a  dashing  young  Trojan  scamp  named  Paris.  This 
common,  although  immoral,  proceeding  upon  her  part,  has 
resulted  in  one  continuous  chain  of  events,  calamities  and 
catastrophes  up  to  the  present  day,  which  catastrophes, 


24  REVELATIONS    OP   AN 

events  and  calamities  will  in  all  probability  continue  for  four 
thousand  years  to  come,  should  this  round  world  last  so 
long. 

I  seem  to  feel  your  laugh.  It  encourages  me  to  continue 
my  parallel. 

Without  this  flirtation,  there  would  very  certainly  have 
been  no  abduction.  Abductions  at  all  times  have  had  evil 
consequences. 

Had  the  abduction  never  taken  place,  the  Greeks  might 
never  have  besieged  Troy.  Now  had  Troy  never  been  be- 
sieged, it  would  very  certainly  not  have  been  taken.  Un- 
taken,  ^Eneas  would  never  have  run  away  from  it  with  his 
paternal  progenitor  on  his  back.  Had  he  not  run  away,  as 
fast  as  he  could,  thus  burdened,  the  pious  son  of  Anchises 
would  never  have  dreamed  of  establishing  himself  in  a 
foreign  land,  to  which  he  had  no  title,  as  a  colonist ;  and, 
consequently,  his  descendants  could  not  possibly  have  founded 
Rome. 

Without  the  existence  of  the  seven-hilled  city,  it  is  more 
than  probable  that  we  should  have  had  no  universal  empire. 

But  for  the  existence  of  that  universal  empire,  what 
chance  would  the  past  have  presented  for  the  establishment 
of  a  Roman  Catholic  and  Apostolic  church  ?  Had  that 
Roman  Catholic  and  Apostolic  church  never  been  begotten 
in  the  womb  of  Time,  the  world  would  neither  have  had 
popes,  nor  the  Inquisition,  auto  dafes,  cardinals,  archbishops, 
nor  Jesuits.  Without  Jesuits  and  archbishops,  what,  you 
must  permit  me  to  ask,  would  have  possibly  become  of  the 
Irish  ?  But  for  the  existence  of  the  Irish  as  a  nation,  we 
might  never  even  have  heard  of  the  name  of  Archbishop 
Hughes.  In  his  absence,  is  it  not  clear  that  Know-Nothingism 
would  speedily  have  died  a  natural  death,  that  is,  if  we  pre- 
suppose it  ever  to  have  been  born  ? 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN  AMERICA.  25 

Who,  therefore,  can  tell  what  in  the  next  four  thousand 
years  may  be  the  united  consequences  of  popes,  Irish,  arch- 
bishops, Jesuits,  Know-Nothings  and  Young  America? 

Permit  me  to  call  your  attention,  my  dear  Berlioz,  to  the 
progressive  influence  which  Helen's  most  immoral  escapade 
has  had  over  all  our  affairs,  religious,  social  or  political,  upon 
this  side  of  the  globe. 

Now,  precisely  and  exactly  in  the  same  manner  as  that  in 
which  Helen's  faux  pas  had  operated  to  cause  such  an 
aggregative  amount  of  trouble,  had  the  development  of  his 
musical  taste  in  the  brain  of  W.  H.  Fry,  scattered  the  seed 
of  what  has  turned  out  a  very  pleasant  and  agreeable  musical 
quarrel,  to  those  by-standers  who  have  either  nothing,  or 
have  had  nothing  at  all  to  do  with  it. 

His  opera  of  "  Leonora"  was  most  undoubtedly  the  sole  cause 
avowed  by  his  brother  for  rushing  into  management.  Par 
parenthese,  I  may  observe  that  his  management  offered  me 
the  "  engaging"  inducement  which  led  to  my  quitting  Europe. 
This  operatic  management  originated  a  new  series  of  operatic 
quarrels,  (you  shake  your  head  and  say  with  sorrow,  "  We 
have  already  had  enough  of  these,")  inaugurated  a  succession 
of  assaults  and  batteries,  law-suits,  judgments  and  executions, 
libels  and  defamations,  literary  and  musical  emeutes,  as  well 
as  gave  birth  to  a  newspaper  war  of  some  nine  years  stand- 
ing, in  which  angry  broil,  more  ink  has  been  spent  and  more 
brain  been  used  up,  than  all  the  Wood  which  was  shed,  and 
the  lives  which  were  sacrificed  in  the  wars  of  the  Greeks  and 
Trojans.  Indeed,  the  battle  was  waged  with  such  virulence 
upon  either  side,  that  New  York  itself  was  divided  into  par- 
ties. One  class  of  society  in  it  which  consists  of  "upper 
tendom,"  and  bears  a  spurious  sort  of  consanguinity  with  the 
Faubourg  St.  Germain  and  the  West  End  upon  your  side  of 
the  ocean,  was  taught  to  regard  the  opera,  or  I  should  say, 

2 


26  REVELATIONS    OP  AN 

any  opera  so  long  as  it  was  Italian,  as  one  of  the  paramount 
necessities  of  life.  Another  and  a  larger  class  remained,  who 
were  more  democratic  in  their  tendencies.  Partly  because 
the  opera  was  an  expensive  amusement,  suiting  more  partic- 
ularly those  who  have  long  purses,  and  largely  influenced 
by  the  tone  of  the  Herald,  these  look  upon  it  as  an  anti- 
republican  institution,  and  unhesitatingly  condemn  it.  It 
would  therefore  seem,  that  after  nine  years  of  quarrels,  law- 
suits, and  public  and  private  warfare,  only  the  first  act  of  this 
drama  has  as  yet  been  completed.  Musical  speculation  has 
suffered,  and  operatic  taste  has  been  nipped  in  the  bud,  sim- 
ply because  A.  H.  Fry  chose  to  write  an  opera  which  he 
placed  upon  the  stage,  and  James  Gordon  Bennett  had  not 
musical  knowledge  enough  to  appreciate  it,  or  lacked  that 
musical  ignorance  which  alone  could  have  enabled  him,  as  I 
have  been  told,  conscientiously  to  puff  it. 

Yes,  my  friend,  in  this  part  of  the  world  we  have  made 
one  very  decided  advance  upon  your  ancient  half  of  it.  A 
conscientious  puff  may  be  met  with  here,  as  a  man  may 
occasionally  meet  with  a  conscientious  "smashing."  An 
acquaintance  has  more  than  once  suggested  to  me,  that  this  is 
because  musical  criticism  is  entirely  unknown  as  a  science 
amongst  us.  Indignantly,  do  I  repudiate  this  suggestion. 
Are  we  not,  by  several  inches,  the  tallest  nation  under  the 
sun,  and  is  it  to  be  for  one  moment  supposed,  that  critically 
we  do  not  understand  everything  ? 

But  I  presume  that  you  would  like  to  know  something 
about  James  Gordon  Bennett.  You  mutter  to  yourself, 
"  What  a  devil  of  a  fellow  he  must  be."  You  are  about  to 
question  me  respecting  his  mental,  moral,  and  physical 
nature. 

Allow  me  to  tell  you,  my  dear  Berlioz,  that  such  questions 
would  be  very  difficult  for  so  unintellectual  an  individual  as 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  27 

myself  to  answer.  Some  imagine  him  to  be  a  moral  ogre 
who  digests  reputations,  artistic  or  political,  as  a  bonafide  one 
would  make  his  meal  of  a  ragout  cTenfans,  or  a  potage  des 
jeunes  Anglais.  There  are  others,  however,  who  assert  him 
to  be  a  totally  misunderstood  and  infamously  underrated 
Christian  philosopher.  One  would  say  that  he  enjoys  little, 
so  keenly,  as  the  pulling  to  pieces  public  character,  while  a 
second  praises  the  courage  with  which  he  has  applied  the 
knife  to  a  moral  ulcer  upon  the  body  politic.  Here,  he  is 
possibly  accused  of  the  wanton  destruction  of  private  happi- 
ness ;  and,  there  he  is  warmly  hailed  as  the  undaunted  advo- 
cate of  popular  liberty.  This  man  will  accuse,  him  of  having 
violated  the  secret  sanctity  of  the  domestic  hearth,  while  the 
other  will  congratulate  him  upon  having  uncapped  a  hidden 
moral  baseness.  Some  have  named  him  the  "  Satan "  of  the 
New  York  press,  while  others  have  styled  him  its  "  Napo- 
leon." These  assert  that  he  takes  "black  mail"  from  every- 
body who  fears  his  pen.  Those,  it  is  well  known,  have  been 
turned  out  of  his  office  for  having  simply  attempted  to  bribe 
him. 

Should  you  still  wish  to  have  my  opinion  of  this  man,  I  am 
ready  at  present  to  give  it  to  you. 

You  say  that  you  do.  I  therefore  prepare  to  jot  it  down. 
It  is  this.  James  Gordon  Bennett  is  neither  more  nor  less 
than  the  New  York  "  Diogenes." 

You  laugh,  but  let  me  assure  you  that  there  is  no  jest  in 
this  opinion  respecting  him,  upon  my  part.  Bennett  is,  in 
this  comparatively  new  American  Republic,  and  almost  as 
modern  New  York,  precisely  that  which  the  philosopher  of 
the  Cynic  school  was  in  the  old  Greek  Commonwealth  of 
ancient  Athens.  The  only  differences  which  mark  the  two 
men,  are  the  differences  of  time,  place,  progress,  and  circum- 
stances. Had  the  first-named  preceded  the  last,  in  point  of 


28  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

time,  and  been  born  in  Athens,  he  would  have  taken  up  his 
lodgings  in  the  classical  cask  now  hallowed  by  the  memory 
of  Diogenes.  He  would  have  excluded  himself  by  that  very 
act  from  fashionable  society,  for  how  could  fashion  tolerate 
the  man  who  lived  in  a  tub  ?  With  a  lamp  in  his  hand,  in 
broad  daylight,  he  would  have  wandered  through  the  streets 
of  Athens  in  search  of  an  honest  man,  always  a  somewhat 
difficult  article  to  find.  In  a  word,  Bennett  would  have  been 
the  genuine  and  identical  Diogenes. 

But  the  last-named,  if  he  had  come  to  New  York  some 
twenty  years  ago,  would  have  done  nothing  of  all  this.  No ! 
Berlioz,  I  feel  positively  convinced  that  he  would  simply 
have  started  a  newspaper. 

He  would  most  indubitably  have  selected  a  corner-house 
in  Nassau  or  William-street  for  his  business  domicile.  Con- 
sequently, the  fashionable  world  would  exclude  him  from 
their  society.  "Upper  Tendom"  would  know  him  not,  nor 
would  he  have  cared  two  straws  for  knowing  "  Upper  Ten- 
dom." Lifting  his  rod  over  their  backs,  he  would  have 
castigated  their  sins.  Taking  his  paper  in  his  hand,  he 
would  have  gone  forth  in  search  of  money.  Believe  me, 
when  I  say  that  he  would  have  done  right.  Money  at  the 
present  day  outvalues  a  dozen  honest  men.  Therefore  is  it, 
that  I  tell  you  the  Diogenes  of  the  New  World  is  most  un- 
doubtedly the  identical  and  genuine  James  Gordon  Bennett. 

Nature  has  undoubtedly  refused  him  an  advantageous  per- 
sonal appearance  such  as  she  bestowed  on  the  Admirable 
Crichton,  D'Orsay  or  Beau  Brummell,  but  in  return  for 
her  penuriousness  in  this  respect,  she  has  gifted  him  with  a 
rare  talent  for  observation.  Quick  and  penetrating  in  his 
judgment,  he  has  of  course  discovered  in  the  human  race 
amongst  whom  birth  and  the  will  of  God  had  chanced  to  cast 
him,  much  more  to  censure  and  to  ridicule  than  to  praise 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  29 

and  to  admire.  Have  you  and  I  not  made  the  same  dis- 
covery, my  friend,  long  since  ? 

On  starting  the  New  York  Herald,  he  undertook  singly 
and  unaided  to  sweep  away  the  whole  of  that  filth  and  mud 
which  had  for  so  many  years  gradually  accumulated  on 
politics,  arts,  commerce  and  fashion  in  this  section  of  the 
world.  Scarcely,  however,  so  fortunate  as  the  son  of  the 
Thunderer,  who  managed  to  cleanse  the  Augean  stables,  he, 
on  the  contrary,  bears  some  resemblence-to  the  daughters  of 
Danaus.  The  more  that  he  sweeps  from  the.  one  side,  the 
larger  amount  of  moral  filth  rushes  into,  and,  perforce  fills 
the  other. 

Sometimes  it  may  also  have  happened,  that  in  his  toil, 
after  a  day's  hard  sweeping,  a  remnant  of  dirt  and  some  bad 
odor  might  remain  about  him.  Such  accidents,  my  dear 
Berlioz,  will  happen  to  every  reformer. 

This  feature  of  direct  antagonism  to  every  abuse,  as  well 
as  his  constant  and  most  successful  labor  to  acquire  the 
earliest  news  ere  steamer  and  telegraph  had  placed  it  within 
the  reach  of  all,  have  by  degrees  ensured  his  paper  a  pro- 
digious circulation.  His  enemies  buy  and  read  it  to  see 
whether  they  have  been  attacked.  His  friends  do  the  same, 
that  they  may  get  for  two  cents,  a  shilling's  worth  of  fun ; 
while  the  great  bulk  of  the  population,  invariably  the  most 
acute  judges  of  that  which  is  really  good,  secure  an  early 
copy  for  the  sake  of  learning  all  the  current  as  well  as 
acquiring  the  earliest  news. 

Now,  this  was  the  man  whom  my  manager  had  with  a 
sublimely  heroic  pugnacity,  selected  as  his  enemy.  It  would 
almost  seem,  as  though  Destiny  had  called  me  across  the 
water  to  New  York,  to  vi  aw  their  encounter. 

You  must  now  allow  me  to  tell  you  something  of  the 


30  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

artists  whom  Mr.  Fry  was  preparing  to  undermine,  and  who 
therefore  must  naturally  become  his  enemies. 

The  Signora  Truffi  was  a  lady  singularly  prepossessing  in 
her  appearance,  and  of  the  most  distinguished  manners. 
Had  you  looked  on  her  abundant  fair  hair,  and  sunned  your- 
self for  a  moment  in  the  glance  of  her  bright  and  azure  eyes, 
you  would  rather  have  believed  her  some  sentimental 
maiden  from  Northern  Germany,  than  an  Italian  Prima 
Donna.  Judged  simply  as  an  artist,  she  was  one  of  that  kind 
which  seldom  palls  upon  the  ear,  but  never  electrifies  the 
soul  of  the  listener.  She  rendered  certain  parts  which  do 
not  admit  of  a  fiasco,  such  as  Elvira  in  the  "  Ernani,"  and 
Lucrezia  Borgia,  well,  carefully  avoiding  all  she  imagined 
might  not  suit  her  capacity.  In  quality  her  voice  was  a  rich 
soprano,  and  she  had  considerably  augmented  its  register  by 
a  careful  musical  cultivation. 

Benedetti  had  a  manly  and  robust  figure.  Indomitable, 
energetic,  quarrelsome  as  a  gentleman  who  has  recently 
come  from  the  South  of  Ireland,  conceited  with  the  inevitable 
self-approval  of  a  first  tenor,  and  cunning  as  either  a  monk 
or  a  weasel,  he  possessed  a  strong  voice.  Its  degree  of  cul- 
tivation was  extremely  mediocre.  Did  he  chance  to  sing  a 
false  note,  or  commit  an  error  in  intonation,  he  would  look 
daggers  at  some  unoffending  member  of  the  orchestra,  or  if 
the  humor  seized  him,  publicly  rebuke  an  innocent  member 
of  the  chorus,  for  the  purpose  of  inducing  the  public  to  be- 
lieve that  one  or  other  of  them  had  dragged  him  into  a  false 
key.  Whenever  he  could  not  keep  time,  he  had  the  trick  of 
beginning  to  beat  it  himself,  although  he  literally  never 
knew  the  difference  between  a  six-eight  and  a  two-four 
movement.  This  was  for  the  purpose  of  showing  the 
audience  that  the  fault,  supposing  they  discerned  it,  lay 
with  the  conductor.  You  may  imagine  that  such  a  vocalist 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN    AMERICA.  31 

was  an  almost  priceless  tenor.  Yet  he,  for  so  Mr.  Fry  had 
told  me,  was  a  favorite  with  the  public. 

The  basso,  Signor  Rosi,  was  a  big  man,  standing,  at  the  least, 
six  feet  in  his  stockings.  He  measured  some  thirty  inches 
from  one  shoulder  to  the  other,  and  trod  the  stage  with  all  the 
dignity  of  a  great  artist.  His  greatness,  however,  was  in  the 
extent  of  his  person,  rather  than  in  his  vocalization.  Before 
he  commenced  singing,  he  would  draw  a  long  breath,  put 
himself  in  a  fighting  attitude,  and  then  rush  to  the  footlights. 
Your  expectation  would  have  been  raised  to  the  highest 
pitch.  Alas !  my  good  Berlioz,  his  singing  realized  the 
ancient  Latin  proverb,  "parturiunt  montes,  nascitur  ridi- 
culus  mus"  which  is  so  admirably  translated  by  the  philo- 
sophic inhabitants  of  Dutchland,  into  " nix  komm,  raw" 

Now,  it  so  happened,  that  I  imagined  Mr.  Fry  had  con- 
fided to  me  a  great  secret  in  telling  me  his  intentions  to 
render  these  three  artists  disponibles.  Never  was  a  man 
more  completely  mistaken.  Like  many  would-be  managers, 
my  present  one  neglected  the  first  principle  of  diplomacy, 
and  by  no  means  retained  his  secrets  locked  within  his  own 
breast.  In  consequence  of  this  unpardonable  mistake  upon 
his  part,  the  artists  speedily  became  well  acquainted  with  the 
nature  of  the  musical  mission  which  he  had  intrusted  to  his 
brother.  Indeed,  they  were  as  thoroughly  cognizant  of  the 
whole  of  its  details,  as  the  manager  himself  was. 

A  triple  league  was  accordingly  formed  between  Truffi, 
Rosi,  and  Benedetti,  against  the  gentleman  who  was,  at  this 
time,  at  the  head  of  operatic  affairs  in  the  Astor  Place.  At 
the  head  of  this  tripartite  alliance,  Mr.  Bennett  kindly  consent- 
ed to  operate.  This  was  for  the  purpose  of  defending  the  legi- 
timate rights  of  his  allies,  against  the  aggressions  of  one  who, 
although  advertised  as  their  ally  and  manager,  was  in  truth 
their  secret  foe. 


32  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

Soon  after,  having  gradually  become  conscious  of  their  in- 
expugnable strength  and  value,  these  three  powers,  greatly 
reinforced  by  the  support  of  the  Herald,  determined  upon 
going  further.  Their  object  was  apparently  to  establish  a 
new  religion,  of  which  Truffi,  Benedetti,  and  Rosi,  were  to 
be  the  Musical  Trinity.  A  post  was  kindly  kept  open  by 
them  for  Mr.  Bennett,  under  the  nomination  of  their  prophet, 
although  it  may  reasonably  be  considered,  more  than  doubtful, 
whether  he  was  ever  aware  of  their  design  to  inaugurate  him 
into  such  a  distinguished  position.  Vocalists,  as  you  well 
know,  my  dear  Berlioz,  are  generally  intolerably  vain. 

The  first  opera  which  was  placed  in  rehearsal,  was  the 
"Norma"  of  Bellini.  Delicate  Trum,  who  by  no  means  felt 
herself  strong  enough  to  render  the  part  of  the  Druidical 
priestess  to  the  satisfaction  of  the  public,  begged  at  rehearsal 
my  influence  and  interference  with  the  manager,  to  induce 
him  to  substitute  another  opera  for  her  debut.  It  was  proba- 
bly concluded  by  her,  that  as  a  new  man  and  one  mixed  up 
with  the  intrigues  of  neither  party,  for  or  against  the  manage- 
ment, my  representations  might  have  some  effect.  Such  a 
mission  was  flattering  enough.  I  accordingly  repaired  to  Mr. 
Fry,  and  represented  to  him  the  risk  which  he  ran  in  suffer- 
ing any  doubt  to  rest  upon  the  success  of  his  opening 
night. 

It  is  impossible  for  me  to  say,  whether  he  would  really 
have  relished  a  fiasco  on  the  part  of  Trufn,  but  very  certainly, 
his  eyes  twinkled  ominously  behind  his  spectacles,  as  he  lis- 
tened to  me. 

The  circumstance,  however,  that  his  general-intendant  had 
already  disbursed  $800  for  the  bear-skins  of  the  Gallic 
soldiers,  with  other  cogent  pecuniary  reasons,  may  have  forced 
him  to  "  go-ahead" — as  we  say,  with  a  classic  energy,  my  own 
Teutchland  and  your  France  are  lamentably  deficient  in. 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  33 

Certain  it  is,  that  "Norma"  remained  upon  his  programme  for 
the  opening  night.  Nevertheless,  like  a  prudent  captain,  he 
thought  over  my  application,  and  prepared  for  the  worst,  en- 
gaging, upon  my  advice,  Madame  Laborde,  who  had  just 
arrived,  for  one  or  two  months,  until  his  brother  should  bring 
out  a  new  cargo  of  operatic  stars. 

This  lady  was  a  capital  prima  donna.  She  possessed  a 
flexible  voice  of  great  compass,  had  an  astonishing  execution, 
and  was  in  every  sense  of  the  word,  a  finished  artist. 

Our  first  night  was  announced  for  Philadelphia,  for  in  this 
country,  my  friend,  at  the  time  I  am  speaking  of,  New  York 
was  by  no  means  its  musical  capital.  This  position  was,  in- 
deed, jointly  held  by  three  cities,  Boston  and  Philadelphia 
being  the  other  two,  who  severally  assigned  and  ratified  the 
position  to  be  held  in  the  United  States  by  any  vocalist. 
Nay,  a  fourth  large  city  lay  in  the  extreme  South,  whose 
judgment  declined  conforming  with  any  of  these.  This  was 
New  Orleans.  A  French  opera  pretty  constantly  existed 
there,  in  the  season  which  was  free  from  yellow  fever,  whose 
artists  were  never,  or  at  any  rate,  very  seldom  heard  in  the 
Northern  States. 

You  say  that  this  was  too  republican  a  style  for  cultivating 
musical  taste,  as  thoroughly  as  it  should  be  cultivated.  Be- 
lieve me,  that  in  entertaining  this  opinion,  my  dear  Berlioz, 
you  are  wrong.  All  Art  is  republican  in  its  nature,  and  Music 
made  a  more  rapid  and  early  growth  in  the  United  States, 
when  it  was  thus  diffused,  than  it  has  lately  done,  since  it  has 
gradually  become  more  centralized. 

Meanwhile,  the  chorus  and  orchestra  had  undergone  much 
of  that  reform  which  I  had  found  absolutely  necessary,  and 
had  been  brought  into  a  tolerably  fair  condition.  You  are 
aware  that  whatever  amount  of  material  is  at  your  disposal, 
an  orchestra  such  as  Habeneck's  was,  or  a  chorus  equal  to 

2* 


34  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

the  one  at  the  German  opera  in  Vienna,  are  not  the  chance 
formation  of  a  day. 

Printed  orders  had  been  sent  to  all  their  members,  to  meet 
at  a  certain  hour  and  place,  for  the  departure  to  Philadel- 
phia. 

Now,  these  orders  were  headed  thus : — "  General  Inten- 
dance  of  E.  P.  Fry's  Grand  Opera  of  the  United  States," 
and  had  a  splendid  aspect  to  those  who  received  them.  This 
aspect  was  however  doomed  to  dissolve,  which  it  did  very 
speedily  after  our  arrival  in  the  '*  Quaker  City,"  as  it  is  here 
called. 

On  the  road,  we  were  all  excitement,  in  spite  of  the  dis- 
comfort of  the  railway  cars.  You  are  astonished  to  hear 
one  who  has  become  a  citizen  of  this  "glorious"  country,  speak- 
ing thus  of  anything  in  it.  But,  my  dear  Berlioz,  I  have 
heard  many  Americans  affirm  that  New  Jersey  is  no  part  of 
this  Union.  This  railroad  runs  entirely  through  New  Jersey, 
and  I  therefore  feel  completely  at  liberty  to  censure  it,  with- 
out at  all  rendering  myself  amenable  to  the  censure  of  a 
want  of  due  patriotic  feeling. 

We  arrived  at  length  at  our  destination,  and  the  day 
announced  for  the  performance  of  "Norma"  dawned  upon 
us. 

But  there  are  some  few  impossibilities  in  this  world,  which 
cannot  be  overcome.  Amongst  these,  may  be  reckoned  the 
attempt  to  make  an  elephant  execute  a  pas  seul  upon  the 
tight-rope ;  the  endeavor  to  make  a  vessel  sail  in  the  teeth 
of  a  sharp  north-easter  (the  Flying-Dutchman  always  ex- 
cepted ;  or  the  idea  of  stopping  a  cannon-ball  when  once 
discharged  from  the  tube  that  held  it,  on  the  application  of  a 
match  to  its  priming)  with  a  sheet  of  blotting  paper.  All  of 
these  are  simple  impossibilities.  But,  there  is  one  which  is 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  35 

more  impossible  still.  This  is  the  belief  that  you  can  make 
a  prima  donna  sing,  when  her  mind  is  made  up  not  to  do  so. 

The  house  was  full ;  the  overture  had  been  played  by  the 
orchestra ;  the  tenor  had  sung  his  cavatina ;  and  the  blonde 
and  bewitching  Truffi  appears  upon  the  stage.  A  tremen- 
dous reception  is  awarded  to  the  Norma  of  the  hour,  who 
receives  it  as  a  really  savage  prima  donna  invariably  receives 
applause,  with  a  tender  grace  that  is  truly  touching.  She 
sings  a  few  bars  of  the  recitative,  staggers,  and  falls  upon 
the  stage,  fainting.  Druids,  call-boys,  and  Roman  soldiers, 
rush  towards  her.  Oroveso  brings  a  glass  of  cold  water,  and 
Adalgisa  applies  a  smelling-bottle  to  her  nose,  but  she  does 
not  move.  Pollio  calls  on  his  Italian  gods  in  no  very  choice 
Italian  ;  a  cockney  carpenter  vents  an  oath  such  as  are  sworn 
upon  the  banks  of  the  Thames,  and  nine-tenths  of  the  male 
chorus  swear  as  lustily  in  German  as  the  lanz-knechts  were 
wont  to  do.  As  for  the  parquet,  it  shrieks  with  laughter ; 
from  the  boxes  breaks  a  storm  of  hisses,  while  the  gallery 
hoots  in  wrath  or  yells  with  delight  at  the  unwonted  spectacle. 
Mr.  Fry  is  about  to  rend  his  hair,  but  thinks  better  of  it  as 
he  remembers  that  he  wears  a  wig.  The  curtain  comes 
down,  and  the  manager  walks  before  it,  announcing  that  "in 
consequence  of  Signora  Truffi's  sudden  (he  lays  an  ugly  em- 
phasis upon  this  word)  indisposition,  the  money  (here,  I 
thought  I  heard  him  groan)  would  be  returned,  or  the  tickets 
(in  saying  this,  his  face  recovered  from  its  previous  gloom) 
might  be  retained  for  the  next  performance." 

So  ended  the  first  night  of  the  season  in  Philadelphia. 

On  the  same  evening,  a  rehearsal  of  "L'Elisir  d'Amore" 
is  ordered ;  and,  by  the  most  unremitting  exertions  on  the 
part  of  all,  excepting  the  delinquent  Truffi,  was  produced  on 
the  following  day.  Madame  Laborde  appeared  in  it,  and 
achieved  a  triumph.  Indeed,  this  artist,  alone,  might  be  said 


36  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

to  have  carried  through  the  remainder  of  the  brief  season, 
which  only  lasted  some  four  weeks. 

Several  weeks  slowly  elapsed  after  we  had  returned  to 
New  York,  without  bringing  our  manager  any  intelligence 
from  his  missing  brother.  Poor  houses  but  ill  supplied  the 
treasury,  and  salary-day  was  an  artistic  festival  that  occurred 
but  twice  in  one  month.  Positively  convinced  that  nothing 
but  W.  Fry's  "  Leonora,"  or  the  "Norma"  of  the  luckily  dead 
and  buried  Bellini,  could  revive  the  drooping  fortunes  of  the 
establishment,  Mr.  Fry,  therefore,  ordered  the  latter  compo- 
sition once  more  into  rehearsal.  This  time,  my  good  Ber- 
lioz, to  use  a  common  and  somewhat  vulgar  saying,  he  danced 
"  out  of  the  frying-pan  into  the  fire." 

There  is  an  anecdote  which  so  strongly  illustrates  his  posi- 
tion, that  I  am  unable  to  refrain  from  calling  it  to  your 
memory.  Moreover,  although  it  has  been  translated  into  and 
adapted  by  all  languages,  it  is,  I  believe,  specifically  a  French 
anecdote. 

Once  upon  a  time,  (the  old-fashioned  style  of  commencing 
a  tale  actually  deserves  veneration),  a  French,  not  a  Parisian 
vocalist  made  his  debut  in  a  provincial  city.  Those  who 
were  in  the  Loges,  received  him  with  an  ominous  silence, 
while  the  denizens  of  the  parterre,  as  well  as  the  more  ele- 
vated portion  of  the  house,  amused  themselves  with  aping 
his  acting,  and  imitating  his  very  peculiar  style  of  singing. 
This  endured  some  time,  when  they  began  to  call  him  all 
sorts  of  names.  "Leather-lungs"  and  a  "cracked  pair  of 
bellows,"  were  among  the  mildest  which  they  offered  to  him. 
The  wife  of  the  miserable  vocalist  was  standing  in  the  wings, 
and  near  her  was  the  stage-manager.  This  official  seeing 
that  the  aforesaid  wife  was  very  good-looking,  was,  in  conse- 
quence thereof,  filled  with  commiseration  for  her  feelings. 

"  My  dear  madara,"  he  said,  in  a  tone  of  the  most  profound 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  37 

pity,  as  he  took  her  white  hand  in  his  own,  "  you  must  take 
courage." 

"  Why  must  I,  monsieur  ?  "  was  her  unexpected  reply. 

"  You  know  that  an  artist  cannot  succeed  everywhere." 

She  smiled  in  the  most  engaging  manner,  and  the  stage- 
manager  consequently  continued. 

"  Our  public  has  the  most  absurd  pretensions  to  taste  and 
critical  knowledge."  Here  he  squeezed  her  taper  fingers. 
"  You  must  take  it  pleasantly." 

"  Oh !  don't  be  alarmed  for  my  nerves,"  replied  the  spouse 
of  the  ill-treated  tenor.  "  I  am  more  than  satisfied  with  your 
public." 

"Indeed!" 

"  I  am  even  touched  by  their  most  exemplary  politeness." 

The  stage-manager  opened  his  eyes,  and  was  so  astonished 
that  he  forgot  to  admire  her. 

"  In  every  other  city  where  my  husband  has  sung,  he  has 
been  pelted  with  rotten  oranges  or  kicked  off  the  stage. 
Here,  on  the  contrary,  he  is  allowed  to  sing.  I  assure  you, 
that  to  me,  the  change  is  perfectly  delightful." 

Now,  in  precisely  the  like  manner,  would  the  "Norma"  in 
Philadelphia  have  been  "delightful"  to  Mr.  Fry,  supposing 
that  it  had  followed  the  results  of  the  "  Norma"  in  New  York. 

No  sooner  was  the  rehearsal  for  this  opera  ordered,  than 
Signor  Benedetti  became  violently  sick,  wrhile  the  amiable 
Trufn  positively  refused  to  sing  the  part  for  the  first  time  in 
this  city  (neither  is  she  greatly  to  be  blamed  for  so  doing) 
with  the  supplementary  tenor •,  Signor  Arnoldi.  But  Madame 
Laborde,  who  was  not  simply  a  clever  singer,  but  an  astute 
and  crafty  diplomatist,  had  in  the  meantime  been  occupied  in 
closely  studying  the  principal  role  in  this  opera.  Deter- 
mined to  take  advantage  of  the  chance  given  her  by  Trufn's 
refusal  to  play  it,  she  immediately  volunteered  to  take  her 


38  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

part  with  the  supplementary  tenor  included.  Mr.  Fry  im- 
mediately accepted  her  offer. 

Only  imagine  the  tapage  which  ensued  when  this  became 
known.  The  musical  Trinity  had  been  more  than  com- 
pletely outwitted. 

Upon  the  first  notice  that  Laborde  would  sing  in  the 
"  Norma,"  Benedetti  forgot  that  he  was  sick,  and  appeared  in 
tjie  operatic  world  again.  He  was  ready  to  rehearse  his 
part.  With  a  wisdom  that  I  confess  I  should  scarcely  have 
given  him  credit  for,  the  Manager  fearing  his  propensity  for 
mischief,  politely  invited  him  to  remain  sick  until  further 
orders.  Benedetti  growled,  but  was  perforce  obliged  to  obey. 
The  result  of  the  first  performance  was  that  Madame  La- 
borde created  a  perfect  furore  as  the  Druidical  priestess, 
while  the  supplemento  very  narrowly  escaped  the  fate  of  the 
French  tenor,  whom  I  a  few  moments  since  recalled  to  your 
remembrance. 

A  repetition  of  "Norma"  was  accordingly  loudly  demanded, 
but  with  Benedetti  in  the  part  which  Arnoldi  had  filled. 
The  fair  Trufli  was  for  the  moment  completely  forgotten. 

It  was  on  a  stormy  evening  in  December,  that  the  operatic 
Napoleon  entered  the  dressing-room  of  our  king  of  modern 
tenors.  He  found  him  painting  his  face.  In  the  first  place, 
the  two  monarchs  glanced  at  each  other.  Their  glances 
were  such  as  a  lion  and  a  tiger  might  exchange,  in  measuring 
each  other's  strength.  The  Napoleon  of  the  Opera  exulted, 
like  a  successful  Machiavel,  over  his  last  demonstrable 
success,  that  of  having  vanquished  the  queenly  Truffi.  On 
the  other  hand,  the  prince  of  tenors  was  literally  burning 
with  indignation,  and  panting  to  avenge  his  blonde  ally. 

After  a  moment  of  awful  silence,  the  Napoleon  of  the 
Opera  said,  with  that  laconic  brevity  which  distinguishes 
him — 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  39 

«  Friday,  "Norma."— You,  Pollio  !  " 

These  four  words  were  pronounced  very  slowly,  and  with 
an  expression  which  would  have  caused  a  tremor  in  any 
other  than  the  king  of  tenors. 

Passing  quietly  a  damp  towel  over  the  rouge  upon  his 
cheeks  and  the  lamp-black  upon  his  eye-brows,  he  calmly 
responded — 

"Never." 

"Never?" 

"  Neve-e-e-e-e-r ! " 

"Why?" 

"  Arnoldi  has  taken  the  part.  It  is,  and  must  remain  his 
property." 

"  He  took  it,  simply  because  you  were  sick." 

"  Only  at  your  request.    I  was  sick,  simply  to  oblige  you." 

"  But  the  public  wishes  specifically  to  hear  you  with 
Madame  Laborde." 

"  Have  the  kindness  then,  to  inform  the  public  that  the 
principal  tenor  of  this  operatic  troupe  only  sings  with  the 
queen  of prima  donnas" 

"  That,  sir,  shall  certainly  be  done." 

Having  registered  this  declaration,  the  Napoleon  of  the 
Opera  rushed  out  of  Benedetti's  dressing-room,  and  dashed 
upon  the  stage.  He  appeared  before  the  astonished  audience 
as  unexpectedly  as  the  ghost  of  Banquo  rises  through  the 
trap  at  Macbeth's  banquet,  and,  apropos  des  bottes,  announces 
to  the  public  who  had  assembled  in  the  Astor  Place  Opera 
House,  to  hear  and  quietly  enjoy  "  Lucretia  Borgia,"  that 
Benedetti  had  positively  refused  to  sing  in  "  Norma"  on  the 
Friday  following. 

Before  any  one  could  understand  what  this  extraordinary 
announcement  might  mean,  he  has  vanished  from  the  stage, 
and  again  stands  before  Benedetti. 


40  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

Waving  his  hand,  he  grandiloquently  exclaims,  "  I  have 
now  given  you  your  deserts/' 

"  Then  I  will  now  give  you  yours,  you  puppy  and  liar," 
replies  the  incensed  royalty. 

So  saying,  he  draws  his  sword,  and  attempts  with  the 
flattened  side  of  it  (the  edge  was  as  blunt  as  stage  swords 
invariably  are)  to  castigate  the  Manager. 

A  fierce  struggle  ensued.  Unhappily,  my  dear  Berlioz, 
(remember  that  I  say  this  as  one  of  the  unlucky  race  of 
Managers),  the  prince  of  tenors  soon  found  the  Napoleon  of 
the  Opera  entirely  in  his  power.  Turning  him  round,  he 
administered  a  kick  to  his  enemy.  It  took  effect  in  that  part 
of  his  body  where  the  completed  dorsal  bone  terminates,  and 
the  leg  has  not  yet  begun.  With  its  force,  he  was  sent  three 
or  four  paces  beyond  the  limits  of  Benedetti's  dressing-room. 

His  equilibrium  had  been  so  forcibly  disturbed,  that  he 
plunges  out  of  it,  and  falls  upon  the  boards.  He  is  totally 
unable  to  resume  the  offensive  with  so  powerful  an  opponent, 
and  Benedetti  remains  the  victor. 

A  committee  of  the  subscribers  who  had  heard  the  state- 
ment of  the  Manager,  then  repaired  to  Benedetti  to  inquire 
into  its  truth ;  and  what  think  you  was  his  response  ? 

With  true  Italian  subtlety,  he  informed  them  that  he  had 
never  dreamed  even  for  one  moment,  of  refusing  to  sing  the 
part  of  Pollio.  "  Oh !  dear,  no  ! "  he  only  required  that 
some  sort  of  apology  should  be  made  to  Signor  Arnoldi, 
"  who  was  a  very  admirable  singer."  I  leave  you  to  imagine 
the  spirit  in  which  this  last  observation  was  made  by  Bene- 
detti. You,  who  know,  even  better  than  I  do,  the  hatred 
with  which  an  Italian  vocalist  looks  upon  all  who  in  any  way 
supplant  him  or  her,  even  for  a  moment,  will  be  at  no  loss  in 
divining  this. 

Satisfied  with  the  expression  of  willingness  to  sing,  upon 


OPERA   MANAGER    IN    AMERICA.  41 

the  part  of  Benedetti,  the  committee  retired,  and  left  Mr. 
Fry  to  enjoy  the  fruits  of  the  declared  enmity  which  he  had 
so  wantonly  provoked. 

The  public,  however,  are  invariably  the  supreme  judges 
in  all  matters  of  this  description,  and  they  were  by  no  means 
so  readily  appeased. k  They  had  not  heard  the  tenor's 
Italian  and  soapily  improvised  explanation.  Simply  did 
they  understand,  that  the  Manager  as  well  as  the  vocalist 
were  both  in  the  wrong.  The  Manager,  very  decidedly  so, 
by  his  perverse  interruption  of  the  quiet  and  orderly  per- 
formance of  the  "  Lucretia,"  for  the  purpose  of  making  an 
accusation  of  insubordination  against  one  of  his  principal 
singers.  This  was  when,  be  it  remembered,  he  had  yet 
eight  and  forty  hours  before  him.  In  this  period  of  time;  he 
might  very  certainly,  had  he  so  chosen,  have  exhausted  the 
various  diplomatic  means  of  persuasion  which  were  at  his 
disposal,  before  adopting  the  harsh  and  compulsory  measure 
of  appealing  to  the  public.  The  error  of  the  tenor  was  at 
the  least  as  obvious.  He  had  no  right,  upon  his  first  impulse, 
to  positively  refuse  singing  at  the  side  of  an  excellent  and 
most  estimable  artist,  whom,  with  a  purblind  insolence  only 
to  be  found  in  Italian  vocalists,  he  believed  not  equal  to  his 
own  degree  of  merit. 

Accordingly,  upon  the  Friday  evening  in  question,  three 
distinct  parties  were  to  be  found  in  the  Astor  Place  Opera 
House. 

These  were  the  personal  friends  of  the  Manager,  those 
who  supported  the  refractory  tenor,  and  the  public. 

The  first  of  these  came  simply  and  purely  for  the  purpose 
of  hissing  Benedetti  and  sustaining  Mr,  Fry  in  his  attempt 
to  control  him.  This  was,  it  must  be  confessed,  my  good 
friend,  a  very  praiseworthy  example  of  private  friendship. 
The  second  of  the  three  parties  were  the  friends  of  the 


42  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

culprit.  These  appeared  on  this  night  with  the  purpose  of 
doing  precisely  the  contrary.  This,  you  must  grant,  was  at 
the  least,  to  the  full  as  praiseworthy.  But  the  public  also 
chose  to  be  present  en  masse.  A  part  of  them  undoubtedly 
came  with  the  simple  view  of  enjoying  the  row  which  was 
expected  by  all,  a  Virtuous  pleasure  which  is  in  general 
keenly  appreciated  by  them.  The  remainder  had,  however, 
paid  their  money  solely  to  have  the  satisfaction  of  giving  a 
lesson  to  each  of  the  belligerents. 

Plans  for  the  evening's  campaign  had  been  arranged  be- 
forehand by  either  of  the  two  first  parties. 

Benedetti,  who  would  be  exposed  to  the  primary  outbreak 
of  the  popular  indignation,  artfully  fomented  by  the  friends 
of  the  management,  was  prepared  with  a  lengthy  speech.  In 
it,  he  would  touch  upon  every  possible  point  of  accusation 
against  him.  He  would  explain,  modify,  denounce,  entreat, 
bully,  and  apologize — appealing  to  the  well-known  generosity 
and  kindliness  of  the  public,  while  he  announced  his  thorough 
good  will,  and  asserted  his  at  the  least  as  thorough  good  faith 
towards  the  management.  In  fact,  it  was  a  very  common- 
place, every-day  sort  of  theatrical  speech,  with  which  he  had 
primed  himself — a  sort  of  oration  which  the  public,  friend  of 
mine,  ought  long  since  to  have  known  by  heart,  but  by  which 
it  is  still  content  to  be  deceived  on  almost  every  occasion. 

Thus  read  the  programme  issued  from  the  camp  of  the 
Manager. 

Benedetti  was  by  all  means  to  be  hissed  off  the  stage. 
Then,  when  the  confusion  had  reached  its  highest  point,  Mr. 
Fry  was  to  appear  before  the  audience.  After  a  nattering 
reception,  he  was  to  address  the  audience,  and  request,  as  a 
personal  favor,  their  pardon  for  Benedetti.  Was  it  not  at 
once  obvious,  that,  all  who  were  present  would  say,  "  What  a 
noble-hearted,  fine  and  generous  fellow  we  now  have  for  a 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  43 

manager ! "  After  this,  he  would  give  utterance  to  a  few 
modest  remarks,  composed  expressly  for  this  occasion,  and 
then  retire,  followed  by  a  sedulously  prolonged  and  deafening 
cheering. 

Now,  let  us  see  what  really  chanced  upon  this  evening. 

The  house  was  crammed  from  the  top  to  the  bottom. 
Every  seat  was  taken.  The  avenues  in  the  parquet  were 
thronged  by  those  who  had  been  attracted  by  the  scandal.  It 
wasa  nother  proof,  my  dear  Berlioz,  that  Art  is  by  no  means 
the  principal  thing  to  be  cultivated  by  a  management  that 
would  rejoice  in  attracting  large  audiences. 

When  the  introduction  was  over,*  Benedetti  appeared.  He 
was  immediately  greeted  by  a  storm  of  hisses,  which  were  as 
quickly  broken  in  upon  by  thunderous  acclamation.  This  at 
length  stilled,  and  he  began  to  sing.  That  man,  however, 
who  would  have  heard  a  note  after  he  had  touched  the  first 
bar,  must  have  had  good  ears.  Screams,  whistles,  clapping 
of  hand  hisses,  trampling  of  feet,  roaring,  menacing  outcries 
and  gesticulations  of  every  kind  filled  the  theatre.  You 
might  have  imagined  that  the  inmates  of  some  half  a  hun- 
dred mad-houses  had  broken  loose,  and  crowded  it  upon  this 
occasion.  To  catch  a  note  from  the  Orchestra,  was  as  im- 
possible as  to  listen  to  the  singing.  After  a  brief  time,  chaos 
having  roared  itself  hoarse,  began  to  shape  itself  into  some 
intelligible  form,  and  a  few  cries  of  "  Order !  order ! "  were 
occasionally  heard. 

"  What  order  ?  "  retorted  the  friends  of  the  manager.  "  Off 
the  stage  with  the  rascal ! " 

"  No !  no  !     Go  on,  and  give  us  a  tune,"  roared  the  public. 

"Order!  order!" 

"  Off  the  stage  with  him !  He  would  n't  sing  when  we 
wanted  him.  He  shan't  sing,  now." 

*  The  Opera  on  this  occasion  was  of  course  the  Norma. 


44  KEVELATIONS    OF   AN 

"  Apologize  to  Fry." 

"  Fry  be  d — d !     Apologize  to  Madame  Laborde." 

"  Never  mind  Laborde  !     Apologize  to  the  public." 

"  The  Public  does  n't  want  an  apology." 

"  Give  us  a  song." 

"Yes!  yes!  l Yankee  Doodle!'"  shouted  a  portion  of 
the  public. 

"  We  don't  want  <  Yankee  Doodle.'  '  Carry  him  back  to 
Old  Virginey.' " 

"Order!     Order!" 

For  some  time,  Benedetti  stood  all  this  very  quietly. 
Occasionally,  he  would  open  his  mouth  with  the  attempt  to 
sing.  It  was  perfectly  hopeless,  and  his  lips  would  close 
again  almost  as  quickly  as  they  had  separated.  At  length, 
he  advanced  a  few  steps,  and  performed  a  curious  specimen 
of  pantomime,  supposed  to  be  expressive  of  his  desire  to 
speak.  As  you  and  myself  both  know,  the  public  is  at  all 
times  a  curious  animal.  Its  curiosity  at  present,  therefore, 
restored  order.  But  this  order  menaced  Mr.  Fry's  pro- 
gramme of  proceedings  with  the  destruction  of  its  utility. 
He  and  those  of  his  friends  who  were  with  him,  behind  the 
scenes,  trembled,  lest  by  these  means  their  own  tactical 
arrangements  might  be  turned  by  their  astute  enemy  against 
themselves. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen ! "  said  Benedetti,  "  I  came  here  to 
sing—" 

"So  you  did!" 

"  Why  the  deuce  don't  you,  then?" 

"  Give  us  l  Yankee  Doodle ! ' "  roared  out  a  voice  from  the 
gallery. 

Benedetti  gazed  on  the  audience  with  an  air  of  unabashed 
majesty,  as  he  mildly  inquired — 

"  Shall  I  sing  or  withdraw  ?" 


, OPERA    MANAGER   IN    AMERICA.  45 


"Sing!" 


"Withdraw!" 

"Yes!" 

"No!" 

"Yes!     Yes!" 

"  No !  no ! "  were  the  cries  and  screams  that  broke  from 
every  part  of  the  theatre,  while  in  the  same  roar  from  the 
gallery — 

"  Give  us  i  Yankee  Doodle !' "  was  again  heard. 

"No!     No!" 

"Yes!     Yes!     Yes!" 

Now,  whether  this  "  Yes !  yes ! "  applied  to  singing  or  with- 
drawing, or  the  vocalization  of  "  Yankee  Doodle,"  it  would 
be  impossible  to  say,  and  Benedetti  stood  for  a  moment  com- 
pletely nonplused. 

To  correct  his  misappreciation  of  their  desires,  he  there- 
fore repeated  the  question ;  and,  drawing  himself  up  in  a 
graceful  and  expressive  position,  was  preparing  to  proceed 
with  the  rest  of  his  previously  prepared  speech,  when  the 
acuteness  of  one  of  Madame  Laborde's  friends  frustrated  his 
intention.  This  was  Monsieur  Nourrit,  an  old  stager  and 
old  Stage-manager,  who,  seeing  the  turn  matters  were  about 
to  take,  pulled  the  wire  and  gave  the  signal  for  dropping  the 
curtain.  Down  it  at  once  came,  between  the  internally  irate 
and  externally  most  pacific  tenor ',  cutting  short  any  further 
colloquy  between  himself  and  the  public. 

With  a  brief  compliment  to  Nourrit  for  his  strategic  skill, 
Mr.  Fry  settled  his  new  pair  of  spectacles  securely  upon  the 
bridge  of  his  nose,  and  rushes  out  to  the  foot-lights. 

But  what  was  his  astonishment  to  find  that  the  flattering  re- 
ception indicated  in  his  programme  was  by  no  means  accorded 
him !  There  must  have  been  some  unaccountable  error  com- 
mitted by  those  to  whom  his  arrangements  had  been  entrusted. 


46  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

He  gazed  wildly  around  the  house,  but  hisses,  cat-calls,  and 
objurgations  couched  in  the  most  derogatory  terms,  were  all 
that  could  be  afforded  him.  In  his  horror,  he  would  not  even 
have  endured  it  as  long  as  Benedetti  had  done,  but  for  the 
suggestions  of  some  of  the  members  of  his  Orchestra.  These, 
with  a  keen  relish  for  his  most  unmistakable  nervousness, 
encouraged  him  not  to  leave  the  battle-ground.  At  length, 
agitated  and  trembling,  he  was  permitted  to  stammer  out  his 
speech,  hissed  by  the  friends  of  the  tenor,  applauded  by  his 
own,  and  laughed  at  by  the  public,  after  which  the  perform- 
ance was  allowed  to  go  on. 

Never,  possibly,  had  Benedetti  or  Laborde  sung  better,  and 
very  certainly,  never  was  there  a  greater  amount  of  merri- 
ment elicited  from  its  hearers  by  any  farce,  than  was  then  called 
forth  by  the  lyrical  tragedy  of  "  Norma." 

Nay !  It  would  have  seemed  that  on  this  evening  scarcely 
an  American  was  present  who  did  not  understand  Italian. 
The  slightest  bearing  upon  the  private  affairs  of  the  vocal- 
ists, into  which  the  words  of  the  Opera,  or  the  acting  might 
be  tortured,  was  immediately  taken  up  by  the  audience.  Witty 
commentaries  were  passed  from  one  to  the  other  upon  it,  and 
received  with  unbounded  merriment.  In  the  scene  in  which 
Pollio  speaks  about  Norma,  in  the  finale  to  the  first  act  when 
Norma  reproaches  Pollio,  and  in  the  Duo  when  she  tells  him 
that  at  length  he  "  is  in  her  hands,"  the  most  ludicrous  ex- 
clamations were  heard  from  the  gallery,  and  immediately 
caught  up  by  those  wrho  were  in  the  parquet  and  boxes. 
But,  when  in  the  last  scene,  PoUio  implored  Norma  to  par- 
don him,  and  the  exclamation — 

"  Ah  !  troppo  tardi,  ti  ho  conosciuto"  bursts  from  him,  the 
merriment  of  the  public  could  no  longer  be  repressed,  and  the 
Opera  concluded  amidst  a  general  outburst  of  laughter  from 
the  public,  the  Chorus,  and  the  Orchestra,  in  which,  even  Fry's 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  47 

and  Benedetti's  personal  friends  were,  almost  against  their 
will,  obliged  to  join. 

The  former  gentleman  made  money  upon  this  evening,  but 
it  brought  the  Opera  House  into  bad  repute,  while  he  him- 
self incurred  a  large  amount  of  personal  discredit,  even 
amongst  his  own  friends.  Bennett,  also,  consecrated  a  cer- 
tain amount  of  space  in  his  columns,  daily,  to  the  abuse  of 
the  Opera.  It  may  safely  be  affirmed,  my  dear  friend,  that 
this  was  the  only  thing  which  induced  the  public  to  visit  the 
establishment.  Such  things,  you  and  myself  have  seen,  Ber- 
lioz, even  in  Europe.  Indeed,  had  our  Manager  answered 
and  attempted  to  refute  the  daily  charges  brought  against 
him  by  the  Herald,  I  entertained,  and  still  entertain  not  the 
slightest  doubt,  but  that  he  could  have  turned  the  excitement 
caused  by  these  articles  greatly  to  his  own  advantage.  How- 
ever, he  preferred  to  keep  his  wrath  smouldering,  and  was 
wont  to  say,  in  answer  to  my  hints  upon  the  advisability  of 
entering  upon  a  more  retaliatory  course, 

"  Never  mind.  Mr.  Bennett  shall  pay  the  piper,  and  I  will 
dance.  I  shall  sue  him  for  heavy  damages." 

Thus,  with  an  amount  of  nerve  and  a  degree  of  equanimity 
for  which  you  ought  to  award  him  a  large  degree  of  moral 
credit,  he  suffered  himself  to  be  daily  abused  and  ridiculed. 
"While  doing  so,  he  nevertheless  jotted  down  each  truculent 
jest  or  aspersion  in  the  note-book  of  his  memory.  Bitter 
words  and  savage  sneers  were  rated  by  him  as  so  much  cash. 
It  was  an  agreeable  mode  of  rectifying  the  balance-sheets  of 
a  speculation  which  had  undeniably  turned  out  ill.  An 
imaginary  twenty  thousand  dollars  turned  the  scale  of  opera- 
tic chances  greatly  in  his  favor. 

In  the  meantime,  the  season  was  advancing  rapidly.  No- 
thing, however,  had  yet  either  been  seen  or  heard  of  W.  H. 


48  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

Fry  and  the  new  vocalists,  with  whose  importation  from 
Italy  he  had  so  obligingly  charged  himself. 

Not  a  single  day  passed,  but  his  expectant  brother  sent 
messengers,  or  should  I  not  call  them  envoys,  down  to  Castle 
Garden,  to  scan  the  Bay  and  bring  him  the  first  intelligence 
that  could  be  obtained  of  these  long-desired  artists.  But 
alas  [  it  was  useless.  Nothing  was  either  to  be  seen  or  heard 
of  them. 

Like  the  ultimate  wife  of  the  ferocious  "Blue-Beard," 
who  stationed  her  sister  on  the  top  of  "  Blue-Beard's  castle,"  to 
inform  her  of  the  first  glance  she  might  catch  of  her  long- 
expected  brothers,  demanding  every  moment — 

"  Soeur  Anne  !  ne  vois  tu  rien  1 " 

and  receiving  to  every  question  the  invariable  answer — 
"  Rien ! "  he  waited  in  daily  increasing  doubt  and  agony  for 
tidings  of  his  relative. 

Seriously,  my  good  Berlioz,  it  appears  to  me  that  in  his 
short  career  as  an  operatic  Manager,  he  had  already  paid 
more  than  enough  of  heart-burning  and  more  purely  physical 
evils  for  the  calling  which  he  had  so  rashly  entered  upon. 

At  length,  in  the  last  week  but  one  of  the  season,  Mr. 
Fry  received  a  letter.  It  brought  the  long  expected  and 
grievously  delayed  intelligence.  Success  had  crowned  the 
efforts  of  the  Manager's  musical  brother.  As  for  the  time 
which  had  been  employed  in  the  selection  of  the  desired 
artists,  it,  combined  with  the  reputation  of  the  agent  as  a 
musical  critic  of  the  first  water,  as  well  as  the  object  which 
he  had  in  view,  the  performance  of  his  own  operas  with 
these  artists,  admitted  of  no  doubt  with  regard  to  their 
excellence. 

If  any  one,  animated  by  a  very  pardonable  degree  of 
curiosity,  inquired  the  names  of  the  new  vocalists,  the 


OrEKA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  49 

Manager  would  purse  up  his  lips,  and  with  a  look  of  the  most 
vigorous  mysification,  say — 

"  That  must  remain  a  secret  until  their  arrival." 

The  knowing  smile  which  followed  this  diplomatic  announce- 
ment— for  you  see,  my  good  friend,  that  the  Chevalier  Henry 
Wikoff  was  by  no  manner  of  means  the  first  diplomatist  in  the 
New  York  managerial  market — indicated  that  New  York 
should  very  certainly  be  surprised  this  time.  Daily,  there- 
fore, did  this  subtly  nurtured  secret  increase,  until  it  was  a 
full-grown  and  full-blown  mystery.  Rumors  were  sedulously 
circulated  that  Mr.  W.  H.  Fry  had  actually  been  successfully 
employed  in  inducing  Rubini  and  Persiani  to  visit  America. 
It  was  obvious  that  the  blonde  Truffi  became  perceptibly 
paler  as  she  listened  to  these  ominous  reports,  while  the  king 
of  tenors  quivered  in  his  boots  as  he  brooded  over  his  pos- 
sible dethronement. 

However,  the  duration  of  this  mystery  was  but  brief.  It 
was  solved  by  the  arrival  of  the  proximate  steamer,  upon 
which,  the  daily  journals  announced  the  arrival  of  the  follow- 
ing new  artists  for  the  Italian  Opera. 

Your  ears,  I  intuitively  feel,  my  amiable  Berlioz,  are 
widely  distended. 

You  wish  to  know  the  names  of  those  vocalists,  under  whose 
skill  a  new  and  native  composer  was  to  be  ushered  upon  the 
boards  before  a  New  York  public.  Can  it  be  possible  that 
you  have  not  yet  heard  of  them  ?  Nay !  I  know  you  have. 
Is  not  Paris  one  of  the  centres  of  musical  Europe  ?  Such 
names  as  those  of  the  Signori  Ferrari,  Taffanelli,  and 
Castrone,  as  well  as  that  of  La  Signora  Fascioti,  cannot  be 
unknown  to  you.  These  were  the  fair  artists  destined  to  close 
the  first  operatic  season  with  which  I  had  been  connected  in 
New  York,  with  eclat.  In  addition  to  this,  our  Manager 
counted,  by  producing  the  whole  of  the  new  vocalists  on  one 

3 


50  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

and  the  same  night,  the  last  of  the  season,  upon  exciting  an 
enthusiasm  which  would  justify  him  in  announcing  a  new 
season,  with  the  prices  of  admission  raised,  at  the  least,  fifty 
per  cent. 

My  advice  was,  it  is  true,  proffered  to  him.  Singularly 
enough,  it  very  considerably  differed  from  that  which  his 
deeper  and  more  profound  skill  in  the  science  of  operatic 
management  had  determined  upon.  I  actually  thought,  my 
friend,  that  it  was  unadvisable .  to  produce  them  all  at  once 
upon  the  same  night.  Consequently,  I  recommended  him  to 
arrange  their  debuts  to  take  place  in  succession.  By  this 
means,  at  the  least,  so  it  appeared  to  me,  he  would  in  all 
probability,  have  secured  four  good  houses  instead  of  one. 
Moreover,  he  would,  in  addition  to  this,  have  avoided  the 
inevitable  nervousness  of  four  debutants  unacquainted  with 
the  public  and  in  a  strange  country,  as  well  as  unaccustomed 
to  sing  with  one  another. 

Convinced  of  his  infallibility,  the  Manager  announced 
to  me  that  I  was  decidedly  wrong,  and  I  of  course  immedi- 
ately believed  him  as  completely  as  any  of  his  employes 
could  believe  in  such  a  Manager. 

Consequently,  "  Ernani"  was  announced  for  the  last  night 
of  the  season,  and  for  his  own  benefit,  the  four  principal 
parts  being  confided  to  the  above-named  four  artists. 

The  house  was  crowded  almost  to  suffocation,  when  the 
curtain  drew  up.  In  order  not  to  appear  too  late,  I  should 
presume,  upon  the  stage,  the  tenor,  Signor  Ferrari,  appeared 
full  five  minutes  before  his  cue  was  given.  Here  he  waited. 
Exposed  to  the  scrutinizing  gaze  of  the  public,  his  fright 
momentarily  increased.  He  trembled,  as  a  mouse  does 
between  the  paws  of  a  benevolent  cat  who  means  to  have 
some  sport  with  him,  before  she  puts  him  out  of  this  world. 
When  he  attempted  to  sing,  his  throat  refused  him  its 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  51 

service ;  the  perspiration  washed  out  his  painted  face,  and 
trickled  over  it  in  red  and  brown  drops  ;  he  grew  terribly 
pale,  and  exhibited  rather  the  appearance  of  a  suffering 
martyr  in  his  last  agony,  than  that  of  the  bandit-chieftain 
who  was  the  successful  rival  in  love  of  Charles  V.,  on  whose 
wide  kingdom  the  sun  never  couched,  and  consequently  could 
never  rise. 

In  New  York,  my  friend,  we  have  ordinarily  a  far  more 
gentle  and  generous  public  than  you  have  in  Paris.  It  is 
indulgent  to  a  degree  with  almost  any  novelty. 

In  the  present  instance,  therefore,  it  allowed  his  attempt 
to  sing  to  pass  in  silence.  Their  judgment,  however,  was 
only  postponed. 

The  Signora  Fasciotti  appeared  in  the  next  scene.  Self- 
possessed,  in  striking  contradistinction  to  the  tenor,  she  appeared 
arrogantly  conscious  of  her  merit  as  well  as  of  her  beauty. 
Such  was,  at  any  rate,  the  first  impression  she  produced. 
But  when  she  sang,  all  this  was  unmercifully  knocked  upon 
the  head.  Her  voice  produced  a  precisely  similar  effect  upon 
the  ear,  which  an  edgeless  razor  might  produce  upon  the 
skin.  Scarcely  had  she  ended  her  cavatina,  than  a  certain 
rumor  was  distinguishable  in  the  gallery,  which  might,  by 
an  attentive  student  of  nature  on  a  larger  scale,  have  been 
compared  with  that  rolling  of  the  waves  which  is  said  by 
those  who  study  such  matters,  (you  know  that  I  do  not,  my 
dear  Berlioz),  to  be  the  precursor  of  a  storm.  But  the  act- 
ing and  singing  of  Taffanelli,  the  barytone,  calmed  down  the 
moving  elements,  and  all  might  yet  have  gone  on  smoothly, 
but  for  the  appearance  of  the  new  basso.  This  was  the 
vocalist  rejoicing  in  the  name  of  Signer  Castrone.  Very 
evidently  had  he  never  before  been  upon  any  stage.  On  his 
entrance,  he  tumbled  over  his  own  sword,  and  rolled  into  a 
terrified  group  of  chorus-singers.  After  this,  he  managed  to 


52  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

get  his  spurs  entangled  in  the  dress  of  the  prima  donna, 
and  when  released  by  the  intervention  of  her  lady  in  waiting, 
found  his  way  to  the  prompter's  box.  Thence,  no  incident 
of  the  plot  and  no  suggestion  of  the  conductor  could  induce 
him  to  move.  Beating  his  time  with  one  hand  and  one  leg, 
and  counting  the  rests  in  his  music  audibly  enough  to  be  heard 
by  the  whole  audience,  there  did  old  Sylva  remain  until  the 
curtain  fell  upon  the  first  Act,  amidst  general  laughter,  far 
worse  for  debutants  than  hisses. 

The  second  and  third  Acts  followed,  in  the  same  way,  and 
with  the  same  result. 

Ferrari  trembled  and  was  inaudible.  Fasciotti  screamed 
in  a  mode  that  would  have  rendered  her  invaluable,  in 
breeches,  as  a  shepherd  in  the  Pyrenees,  while  the  poor 
Castrone  met  at  every  step  with  some  new  and  unforeseen 
difficulty.  Had  he  his  sword  to  draw,  it  stuck  in  the  scab- 
bard. Would  he  sheath  it,  he  could  never  find  the  aperture 
through  which  he  might  pass  its  point.  If  he  was  to  enter 
upon  the  right  side  of  the  stage,  and  those  who  were  on  the  scene 
were  looking  in  that  direction,  it  was  morally  certain  that  he 
would  appear  behind  them.  Did  they  prepare  for  such  a 
chance,  then  he  might  be  seen  coming  on  from  the  right 
entrance.  When  he  knelt  down,  some  part  of  his  dress  was 
certain  to  crack  ;  and  had  he  to  rush  out  sword  in  hand,  he 
would  find  all  the  doors  of  the  stage  closed.  Then,  after  run- 
ning to  all  of  them  in  a  devil  of  a  hurry,  he  would  with  a  re- 
markably Parisian  shrug  of  the  shoulders,  subside  into  quie- 
tude, and  walk  coolly  off  through  the  wings.  Taffanelli  was 
the  only  artist  of  the  four  that  might  have  come  off,  creditably. 

But,  unfortunately,  the  worst,  or  should  I  not  say  the  best, 
for  it  ranks  in  my  memory  as  one  of  the  grandest  musical 
farces,  I  have  ever  seen  and  listened  to,  my  dear  Berlioz, 
was  reserved  for  the  last  Act. 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  53 

This  capped  the  events  of  the  evening  with  a  climax. 
But  I  feel  compelled  to  beg  of  you  to  believe  that  I  am  in- 
venting nothing  which  I  am  recounting.  The  whole  of  it  is 
undeniably  too  true. 

Emani  had  at  length  been  united  with  Elvira.  Lapped 
in  dreams  of  future  happiness  and  bliss,  they  were  retiring 
from  the  festival,  when  the  fatal  horn  is  heard  from  the  other 
side  of  the  painted  canvas.  That  sound  recalls  Emani  to 
the  memory  of  his  oath.  For  a  brief  period,  almost  does  he 
believe  it  the  mere  effect  of  his  excited  imagination.  Then 
for  the  second  and  third  time  its  note  rings  upon  his  ear,  and 
Sylva  rushes  upon  the  stage  to  demand  the  fulfilment  of  the 
vow  which  he  had  sworn. 

I  have  intimated  that  Sylva  rushed  upon  the  stage.  But 
can  you  imagine  in  what  guise  the  unhappy  Castrone  brought 
him  before  the  audience  ?  No !  you  cannot.  The  decency 
of  your  imagination  altogether  disowns  such  a  possibility,  and 
I  feel  that  I  shall  be  obliged  to  tell  you. 

As  I  prepare  to  do  so,  although  alone  at  my  writing-table, 
a  crimson  blush  overspreads  my  modest  face. 

It  creeps  across  my  body,  and  along  mine  arms,  until  it 
even  dyes  my  fingers.  They  involuntarily  redden  like  newly- 
pulled  radishes,  as  I  recall  that  incident  to  my  memory. 

He  (could  I  hide  my  face  I  would  do  so,  Berlioz,  did  I  not 
luckily  remember  that  you  cannot  see  it)  had  forgotten  what 
the  Erse  or  Northern  Scotch,  though  which  it  is  I  have 
suffered  myself  to  forget,  call  their  "  gallygaskins."  In 
our  own  more  fastidiously  refined  language,  upon  this  conti- 
nent, they  are  most  generally  and  generically  classified  as  the 
"  unmentionables."  There  he  stood,  representing  the  Spanish 
idea  of  an  Inexorable  Fate,  clad  in  a  black  velvet  doublet, 
but  with  a  pair  of  flesh-colored  and  closely-woven  silk  inex- 
pressibles upon  his  nether  man.  The  horn,  that  fatal  horn, 


54  REVELATIONS    OF  AN 

hung  from  his  neck,  in  a  position  which  it  would  be  absolutely- 
impossible  for  me  consistently  with  propriety  to  indicate  upon 
paper.  Certainly,  it  was  in  anything  but  its  right  place. 
Some  of  the  ladies  who  were  present,  rose  and  quitted  the 
theatre.  Others  shrank  back  in  their  seats,  and  veiled  their 
eyes  with  the  feathery  ridges  of  their  fans,  or  the  delicate 
lace  of  their  handkerchiefs.  Even  the  self-possessed  and 
resolute  prima  donna  reddened  through  her  well-laid-on 
rouge,  and  dropped  her  eyelids  over  her  bold  eyes,  while  the 
Conductor  for  once  forgets  the  impassibility  imposed  upon 
him  by  his  position,  and  hurries  up  the  Orchestra  to  the  end. 
At  length  Sylva  offers  to  Ernani  the  dagger.  In  his  eager- 
ness to  put  an  end  to  himself,  and  escape  the  ridicule  of 
which  he  felt  conscious,  the  latter  clutches  at  it.  But,  alas  ! 
the  blade  remains  in  Sylva's  hand,  and  the  lucklessly  uncon- 
scious jEmani,  a  martyr  to  misplaced  confidence,  is  obliged 
to  dispatch  himself  with  the  scabbard.  After  this,  the  cur- 
tain falls  where  it  always  does,  leaving  Ernani  without  its 
drapery,  and  close  to  the  foot-lights.  The  .dead  body  sits  up, 
and  gazes  around  it  in  speechless  consternation.  An  uni 
versal  and  irrepressible  titter  is  heard  throughout  the  whole 
house.  In  its  agony  it  rises,  and  runs  off  from  before  the 
audience. 

Nor  yet,  my  good  Berlioz,  have  the  mischances  of  the 
evening  fairly  terminated. 

A  few  of  his  personal  friends  insist  upon  calling  Mr.  Fry- 
out,  as  is  ordinarily  the  case  at  the  close  of  a  season.  In 
consequence  of  this,  the  Manager  makes  his  appearance  be- 
fore the  curtain.  Unfortunately,  he  was  not  gifted  with  that 
presence  of  mind  which  is,  I  may  safely  say,  a  theatrical 
Manager's  most  paramount  necessity,  and  was  unable  to  com- 
pose a  speech  upon  the  spur  of  the  moment  suitable  to  4he 
occasion.  He  had,  however,  acquired  a  very  graceful  sped- 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  55 

men  of  oratorical  writing,  by  rote,  which  he  forthwith  de- 
livers, talking  about  the  "excellence  of  his  new  artists"  and  the 
"  intelligent  enthusiasm  of  the  public,"  as  well  as  "tthe  heavy 
expense  which  he  had  incurred  to  secure  vocalists  of  such 
unapproachable  merit."  Here  the  public  laughed.  After 
this,  he  wound  up  by  promising  the  lovers  of  music  gene- 
rally, and  his  subscribers  in  particular,  a  new  season,  (!) 
with  advanced  prices  of  admission,  (!)  in  order  to  enable 
him  to  recompense  the  unrivalled  merit  of  such  great  artists 
(!)  as  those  whom  he  had  now  placed  before  them. 

Your  experience  scarcely  needs  the  information,  that  tnis 
was  very  necessarily  the  last  of  Mr.  Fry's  management.  He 
was,  beyond  doubt,  a  well-meaning  Manager,  yet  his  obstinacy 
and  brotherly  love,  for  the  time,  ruined  him. 

But  one  thing  worse,  my  dear  friend,  can  there  possibly 
be  for  any  Manager  than  the  having  a  brother  who  writes 
Opera.  This  is,  the  writing  it  himself. 

Possession  was  now  taken  of  the  Opera  House  by  the  pro- 
prietors and  shareholders.  Applications  for  the  lease  and 
directorship  of  it  were  invited.  Many  of  the  habitues  of  the 
Opera  encouraged  me  to  put  in  an  application.  At  the  first 
I  steadily  excused  myself,  on  the  grounds  that  my  means 
were  far  too  limited  for  such  an  enterprise.  Induced,  how- 
ever, by  a  direct  hint  from  the  Committee  who  had  the  man- 
agement of  the  property  in  their  hands,  and,  let  me  own  it 
to  you,  with  my  ambition  somewhat  awakened,  as  well  as  in 
no  small  measure  deceived  by  the  assurances  of  aid  and  sup- 
port which  were  on  all  sides  volunteered  to  me,  I  one  day 
declared  myself  a  candidate  for  the  lesseeship,  and  in  a  few 
days  more  had  forgotten  having  done  so,  or  at  any.  rate  had 
almost  permitted  it  to  slip  from  my  memory. 

In  the  meantime,  the  house  was  leased  by  Messrs.  Hackett 
and  Niblo  for  a  short  season,  with  the  intention  of  playing 


56  REVELATIONS    OF  AN 

the  legitimate  drama,  as  tragedy  and  comedy  are  called  here 
and  in  England,  although  wherefore  has  invariably  passed 
my  comprehension.  Opera,  farce,  melodrama,  and  even  pan- 
tomime, iGeing  in  my  opinion  to  the  full  as  legitimate  enter- 
tainments. Macready  was  the  "  star,"  upon  whose  reputation 
these  gentlemen  intended  to  form  their  season. 

At  this  time,  Macready  the  Englishman  had  a  difference 
of  opinion,  or  controversy  of  some  description,  with  Edwin 
Forrest  the  American. 

This  purely  personal  quarrel  eventually  threw  into  shade 
the  Fry  and  Bennett  row,  assuming  a  proportion  which  en- 
dangered the  peace  of  New  York,  while  it  proved  that  the 
Americans  will  always  as  a  body  stand  by  and  enforce  peace 
and  order.  Indeed,  in  my  opinion,  I  have  always  regarded  it 
as  a  valuable  lesson,  (although  its  necessity  was  greatly  to  be 
deplored)  to  much  of  the  rowdyism  which  was  and  is  somewhat 
too  prevalent  in  New  York.  You  ask  me  what  "  rowdyism  "  is, 
my  dear  Berlioz,  and  had  I  faith  in  your  retention  of  this  letter, 
I  would  tell  you  ;  but  were  it  to  pass  out  of  your  hands  and 
find  publicity,  my  explanation  of  this  term  might  prove  de- 
trimental to  me,  as  the  "  rowdies "  generically  fear  nothing 
and  care  for  nothing.  Therefore,  I  conscientiously  feel  that 
it  would  be  far  wiser  for  me  to  hold  my  peace.  The  reason 
of  this  difference  between  Forrest  and  Macready  was  as  ridi- 
culous as  the  cause  of  the  Fry  and  Bennett  controversy.  It 
was  alleged  by  Edwin  Forrest  that  Macready,  or  Macready's 
friends,  had  hissed  him  during  his  engagements  in  England. 
Therefore,  he  expected  that  his  friends  should  hiss  Macready 
now.  It  was  a  pure  deduction  from  the  lex  talionis.  State- 
ments and  counter-statement^  had  severally  appeared.  Ap- 
peals and  counter-appeals  to  the  public  had  been  published. 
In  fact,  a  terrible  war  (in  vulgar  English,  it  might,  with  the 
greatest  possible  propriety,  but  for  its  results,  have  been 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  57 

called  a  "  shindy,"  with  which  term,  you,  my  friend,  can  of 
course  have  no  acquaintanceship)  raged  upon  this  matter  in 
nearly  all  the  newspapers  of  the  Union,  amounting,  as  I 
have  been  very  credibly  informed,  to  something  more  than  a 
hundred  thousand  in  number. 

Supposing,  my  dear  Berlioz,  that  the  two  artists  had  been 
Italians,  the  difficulty  would  have  speedily  been  settled ;  but  it 
seemed  that  the  members  of  the  "  legitimate "  drama  had  a 
"legitimate  right"  to  kick  up  an  "illegitimate  row."  They 
did  so. 

The  Astor  Place  Opera  House  was  selected  by  them  for 
this  inspiriting  diversion.  Like  two  giants,  who  prove  their 
strength  by  thrashing  a  third  and  innocent  party,  this  theatre 
was  selected  by  Messrs.  Forrest  and  Macready,  to  suffer  for 
their  sins. 

On  the  first  appearance  of  Macready,  he  was  most  unmistak- 
ably hissed  off  the  stage  by  those  who  identified  Forrest's 
grievances  with  national  injuries.  A  portion  of  the  public, 
called  by  the  "  Upper  Ten"  the  "  Lower  Class,"  declared  that 
they  would  permit  no  English  actor,  no  Italian  Opera,  and  no 
aristocratic  theatre  in  New  York,  they  being  a  free  and  en- 
lightened people.  That  portion  of  the  public,  however,  who 
were  called  by  the  "  Lower  Class  "  the  "  Upper  Ten,"  being 
likewise  a  part  of  that  free  and  enlightened  people,  declared 
that  they  would  have  whatever  amusement  they  chose  to  pay 
for,  whether  it  might  consist  of  English  actors,  or  of  Italian 
Opera.  In  accordance  with  which  determination,  a  number 
of  gentlemen,  of  high  standing  in  society,  invited  Mr.  Mac- 
ready  to  perform  once  more,  taking  the  whole  of  the  seats  in 
the  house,  and  consequently  refusing  admission  to  the  mass 
of  the  general  theatre-going  public.  This  proceeding  was 
regarded  by  them  as  a  positive  defiance,  and  on  the  evening 
in  question  (May  10th,  1849),  more  than  15,000  of  them 

3* 


58  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

surrounded  the  Opera  House,  and  attempted  to  storm  it 
during  the  performance.  The  police-force  which  had  been 
provided,  was  not  strong  enough  to  resist  so  overwhelming  a 
force,  and  the  military  were  therefore  called  out.  That  is  to 
say,  the  volunteer  companies  which  constitute,  under  a  differ- 
ent name  and  with  a  different  organization  from  that  in  Paris, 
our  National  Guard.  After  vain  efforts  to  restore  peace,  it 
was  unfortunately  obliged^  in  order  to  save  the  building  and 
protect  the  audience  collected  inside  of  it,  to  fire  upon  the 
crowd. 

After  several  volleys,  a  few  pieces  of  artillery  were  stationed 
at  the  different  corners  of  the  Astor  House,  and  this  led  to 
the  gradual  dispersal  of  the  mob. 

The  audience  were  then  permitted  to  leave,  (Mr.  Mac- 
ready,  as  I  afterwards  heard,  had  already  fled,)  and  imme- 
diately after,  the  Temple  of  Harmony  was  transformed  into 
a  Morgue  for  the  dead  and  a  hospital  for  the  dying,  upon 
either  side. 

Had  the  slain  and  wounded,  my  good  Berlioz,  been  the 
victims  of .  political  ambition,  or  religious  fanaticism,  the 
authors  would  have  paid  heavily  for  this  outrage  upon  the 
public  peace.  As  it  was,  everything  remained  or  rather 
merged  into  quietude  during  the  following  week.  Macready 
escaped  to  England,  where  he  enjoys  his  money  and  his 
laurels.  Had  he  but  done  so  two  days  earlier,  how  many  a 
life,  to  the  full  as  valuable  to  the  world  as  his,  would  have 
been  spared !  On  the  following  evening,  Edwin  Forrest 
appeared  at  the  t  Broadway  Theatre,  where  his  appearance 
was  hailed  by  three  cheers.  To  ensure  him  that  triumph, 
how  many  lives  as  valuable  to  the  world  as  his,  had  been 
sacrificed !  The  people  on  that  morning  had  gone  to  their 
work,  and  save,  in  rare  instances,  where  their  affections  had 
sustained  a  personal  loss,  thought  not  of  their  fellows  slain  to 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  59 

satisfy  the  "  illegitimate"  differences  between  two  "legitimate" 
tragedians.  The  citizen-soldier  cleaned  his  musket,  and 
thought  not  whether  its  ball  had  been  one  of  those  which  was 
plumbed  with  death. 

As  for  the  poor  Opera  House,  its  doors  were  riddled  with 
balls,  and  its  windows  broken.  Moreover,  it  was  rebaptized 
in  blood  with  an  ominous  surname,  having  been  nicknamed, 
the  "Massacre"  Place  Opera  House. 

It  was  upon  the  morning  following  this  gloomy  and  terri- 
ble disturbance,  that  a  communication  from  the  Committee 
was  handed  to  me.  This  communication  informed  me,  that 
I  was  the  "  successful  candidate  for  the  lease  and  direction 
of  the  said  establishment."  Under  such  circumstances,  my 
dear  Berlioz,  did  I  become  its  Manager.  The  blood  of  those 
who  had  been  borne  into  it,  the  night  previous,  had  not  yet 
been  scrubbed  from  its  boards  when  it  passed  into  my  hands. 
Believe  me  yours,  most  truly, 

M.  M. 


SECOND    LETTER. 
TO     FIORENTINO,     PARIS. 

New  York  Fashions  and  Fashionables — James  Foster,  Jun. — Henry  A. 
Coith  and  others — Re-organization  of  the  Opera — New  York  Critics 
and  Criticisms— N.  P.  Willis— R.  de  Trobriand  and  others— Fancy- 
Dress  Balls — Mozart's  Don  Giovanni — The  first  successful  Opera 
Season  in  New  York. 


REVELATIONS    OP  AN   OPERA  MANAGER,  ETC.  63 


LETTER  H. 

TO   FIORENTINO,  PARIS. 

NEW  YORK,  July  28,  1855. 
OLD  FRIEND  OR  ACQUAINTANCE  : — 

FOR  which  name  I  am  now  to  give  you,  I  am  scarcely  able 
to  decide.  Separation  and  silence  have,  it  is  more  than  pro- 
bable, done  their  work.  So  long,  indeed,  is  it,  since  we  last 
set  eyes  upon  each  other,  that  it  appears  to  me  somewhat 
dubious  whether  you  will  now  recognize  that  Moravian 
appellation,  whose  perverse  consonants  seemed,  when  we 
were  accustomed  to  meet  daily,  ever  too  difficult  for  your 
Neapolitan  tongue  to  shape  into  sound.  Besides,  Paris  may 
lay  claim  more  than  any  other  capital  to  be  considered  the 
city  of  the  moment.  You  H ve  through  ages  in  it,  while  other 
portions  of  the  green  earth  are  counting  only  years.  Dynas- 
ties and  revolutions  bud,  blossom,  and  die ;  liberty  is  fought 
for,  acquired,  and  then  put  in  the  breeches  pocket  of  some 
successful  operator  upon  the  Bourse  of  society,  while  another 
people  are  only  dreaming  of  the  changes  which  they  need,  or 
another  individual  is  only  imagining  that  which  he  might 
possibly  attempt,  in  some  far  corner  of  the  world.  Charles 
X.  has  long  been  forgotten.  Nay !  he  has  passed  entirely 


64  REVELATIONS    OF  AN 

out  of  remembrance.  Memory  can  scarcely  recall  the  period 
when  Louis  Philippe  received  his  "  walking-ticket."  Lamar- 
tine  is  heard  of  no  more.  The  Republic  is  defunct,  and 
Cavaignac  rules  not.  Louis  Napoleon  has  been  replaced  by 
Napoleon  III.  You  have  almost  suffered  Algiers  to  slip  out 
of  recollection,  and  are  engaged  in  dreaming  about  Sebasto- 
pol.  How,  then,  can  I  possibly  have  the  consummate  imper- 
tinence to  imagine  that  you  retain  the  Moravian  name  of 
Max  Maretzek  in  your  Gallicized  Italian  memory  ? 

Yet,  if  you  will  allow  me  to  recall  to  your  recollection  the 
period  at  which  you  wielded  the  stiletto  of  musical  critic 
upon  the  Parisian  Corsaire,  a  dim  memorial,  of  one  who 
was  then  your  friend,  may  float  across  your  mind. 

My  pen  was  then  employed  upon  the  German  Vorwaerts, 
in  a  similar  capacity. 

A  vague  souvenir  may  be  awakened  of  M.  Boernstein  and 
his  amiable  family,  as  well  as  his  partner,  M.  Bornstedt,  its 
two  editors.  You  will,  perchance,  recall  the  pleasant  even- 
ings which  we  have  passed  with  them,  in  the  society  of  such 
men  as  Heine,  Marx,  Rugge,  and  Marc  Fournier,  with  others 
of  the  would-be  Reformers  of  society.  Or,  haply,  you  may 
remember  our  mutual  friend,  the  Marquis  de  Breme,  with  his 
adorable  blonde,  Pauline,  who  had  so  charmingly  naive  a  pen- 
chant for  getting  married,  and  suffer  your  memory  to  fall 
dimly  back  upon  the  little  danseuses  Viennoises,  whose  music 
I  wrote,  Bernard  Latte  being  verdant  enough  to  buy  it  from 
me,  while  yourself  were  amiably  conscientious  and  actually 
affixed  your  critical  imprimatur  to  it.  If  you  can  do  so — if 
these  memories  have,  in  your  Italian  heart,  bid  defiance 
to  Parisian  mobility,  you  will  perhaps  manage  to  remember 
the  writer  of  this  letter. 

Its  object  is  to  renew,  if  possible,  my  acquaintance  with 
yourself.  You  shake  your  head  doubtingly,  and  ask  me, 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  65 

whether  this  is  really  its  only  object.  My  very  amiable 
Fiorentino,  doubt  is  an  exceedingly  unfriendly  proceeding 
upon  your  part.  You  say — "  why  is  it  that  I  have  so  long 
been  silent  ? "  Are  you  determined,  then,  to  give  me  no 
credit  for  the  possession  of  any  friendly  feeling  ?  Again  you 
shake  your  head,  and  your  obstinacy  compels  me  to  make  a 
clean  breast  of  it,  owning  that  I  wish,  through  you,  to  give 
the  artistic  world  a  portion  of  "  My  Confessions."  This  will 
comprise,  my  doubting  and  inquisitive  friend,  a  narrative  of 
part  of  my  own  experience,  and  a  description  of  taste  as  well 
as  fashion,  in  that  part  of  the  New  World  called  the  United 
States. 

The  most  conflicting  opinions  are  circulated  abroad,  and 
more  especially  among  artists,  concerning  America.  Some 
believe  it  to  be  a  literal  El  Dorado,  the  Land  of  Musical 
Promise  running  with  rivers  of  milk  and  honey,  instead  of 
streams  that,  like  those  in  old  Europe,  contain  nothing  more 
than  clear  water  and  a  few  speckled  trout,  admirable  things 
in  their  way,  but  somewhat  few  and  far  between.  These 
plant  the  land  of  their  imagination  with  cities,  like  the  Tharsis 
of  King  Solomon,  filled  with  gold,  and  silver,  and  ivory. 
Their  inhabitants  are  wealthy,  confiding  and  generous,  in  the 
extreme ;  modern  Croesuses,  with  the  open  heart  and  free 
hand  of  some  ancient  Arabian  patriarch.  In  fact,  the  wealth, 
opulence,  and  prodigality  of  republican  America,  has  become 
proverbial  with  many  of  the  inhabitants  of  Europe.  Recently, 
the  old  English  "  Deus  ex  machina"  of  writers  of  Comedy, 
who  used  to  appear,  in  moments  of  extreme  need,  and  settle 
all  difficulties  by  inserting  his  fingers  in  a  prodigious  purse, 
or  unclasping  a  plethoric  pocket-book,  has  been  wiped  out  of 
theatrical  existence  by  a  retired  American  railway-speculator, 
or  a  returned  Californian  gold-digger. 

Others  are  there,  however,  to  be  found  in  Europe,  who  re- 


66  REVELATIONS    OP  AN 

gard  America  in  a  very  different  light.  These  believe  it  to 
be  inhabited  by  a  set  of  savages,  barbarians,  and  Red  Repub- 
licans. In  their  opinion,  it  contains  a  race  of  people  who  eat 
raw  meat  and  devour  uncooked  vegetables,  who  chew  tobacco, 
and  void  their  rheum  upon  ladies'  dresses  and  Turkey  carpets, 
who  drink  unheard  of  quantities  of  brandy,  schnapps,  ale  and 
Monongahela  whiskey,  while,  instead  of  having  been  provided 
with  a  delicately  palpitating  heart  like  other  races  of  mankind, 
Nature  has  in  its  place  inserted  simply  a  silver  dollar,  coined 
in  their  own  mint. 

My  good  friend,  this  last  opinion  is  most  decidedly  false, 
whilst  the  first  one  is  by  no  means  accordant  with  truth. " 

Believe,  my  amiable  Florentine,  neither  the  one  nor  the 
other.  Calmly  and  discreetly  survey  and  weigh  us.  Then, 
take  the  juste  milieu,  and  say — 

"  C'  tout  comme  chez  nous." 

Yes !  all  things  here,  are  as  they  are  everywhere  else. 
More  or  less  modified  by  Nature  are  they,  or  developed  by 
chance  and  circumstance.  But  I  am  wrong.  There  is  no 
such  thing  as  chance.  Let  me  correct  myself,  therefore,  and 
say  they  are  more  or  less  developed  by  circumstance. 

Here,  as  elsewhere,  society  has  fallen  into  its  two  natural, 
divisions,  Aristocracy  and  Democracy,  a  quasi  refined  upper 
portion,  and  the  Plebs.  However,  American  aristocracy  is 
not  such  as  the  English  is,  and  the  French  was  ere  France 
became  progressive  ;  an  aristocracy  purely  of  birth,  with  some 
slight  and  almost  imperceptible  admixture  of  talent.  Neither 
is  it  the  purely  poetical  aristocracy  of  Art,  Science  and  Intel- 
ligence, such  as  the  old  Grecian  was,  nor  one  of  Protection, 
exclusively,  like  the  antique  Roman  Patriciate.  It  is,  simply, 
an  aristocracy  of  Money.  Money  is  its  Lettre  de  noblesse. 
Money  is  the  diploma  of  science  and  intelligence.  By  money, 
you  are  protected  and  pushed  on  in  the  world,  and  in  a  purely 
monetary  ratio  is  the  value  of  an  American  aristocrat  to  be 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  67 

computed.  You  will  undoubtedly  perceive  that  this  simplifies 
in  an  extraordinary  manner  the  value  of  an  individual's  stand- 
ing amongst  the  "  Upper  Ten"  on  this  side  of  the  ocean. 

The  Democracy  (pray  observe,  that  I  am  here  speaking  in 
the  purely  social,  rather  than  the  political  sense  of  the  term) 
has  not  the  slightest  difference  in  character  from  the  so-called 
Plebs  in  any  other  portion  of  the  known  world.  Vary,  it 
may,  in  manners  and  decorous  observances,  but  not  in  its  radi- 
cal nature.  It  is  the  same  fine-hearted,  noble-minded,  hard- 
working and  stubborn  race  of  men.  Not  rejoicing  in  the  full 
blood  of  the  high-mettled  racer,  as  it  is  far  removed  from  the 
dull  and  thistle-eating  vitality  of  the  donkey,  it  may  be  likened 
to  the  laborious,  but  at  times,  impracticable  mule. 

To  the  American  aristocrat,  the  most  important  matter, 
after  money,  is  fashion.  After  his  daily  bread,  to  the  Amer- 
ican democrat,  the  only  desirable  thing  is  amusement.  Their 
life  may  be  summed  up  in  three  words.  These  are — "  Panem 
et  Circenses" 

You  will  agree  with  me,  Fiorentino,  that  the  world,  in  its 
democratic  portion,  has  not  changed  much  in  the  last  eighteen 
hundred  years  of  its  existence. 

Fashion  in  America  obeys  the  immutable  law  which  has 
been  bestowed  upon  it  from  its  first  birth,  when  Eve,  at  the 
instigation  of  the  serpent,  clothed  herself  in  fig-leaves.  It  is 
originated,  kept  up,  quitted,  resumed,  revolutionized,  restored, 
put  out  of  the  way,  found  again  and  re-baptized  by  the  ladies ! 

Be  quiet,  my  amiable  Fiorentino,  and  allow  me  to  write  to 
you  in  my  own  way.  You  ask  me  to  give  you  some  informa- 
tion about  the  American  ladies.  How  will  it  be  possible  for 
me  to  impart  any  to  you,  which  you  would  think  reliable  ? 
You  well  know  that  I  have  always  been  conspicuous  for  my 
bashfully  retiring  disposition.  My  internal  modesty  is  so 
great,  whatever  others  may  please  to  say  of  me,  that  it  has 


68  REVELATIONS   OF  AN 

always  been  with  profound  difficulty  that  I  have  constrained 
myself  to  regard  a  female  in  the  face,  when  I  am  forced  to 
talk  with  her.  The  compulsory  nature  of  my  professional 
career  has  necessitated  me  in  many  instances  to  do  this,  but, 
as  yet,  my  bashfulness  has  remained  invincible. 

Besides,  my  friend,  you  have  asked  me  an  unpleasant  ques- 
tion. Let  me  assure  you,  that  in  my  experience  of  life,  one 
woman  is  a  more  dangerous  enemy  than  twenty  men.  Should 
I  chance  in  my  modest  ignorance  to  offend  the  female  half  of 
the  American  nation,  all  would  at  once  be  over  with  me  in 
this  portion  of  the  world.  Nothing  would  remain  for  me  to 
do,  but  to  pack  up,  take  my  berth  in  the  next  steamer,  and 
return  at  once  to  Europe. 

You  still  insist  upon  my  giving  you  an  answer.  How  is 
it  to  be  done,  Fiorentino,  by  one  who  has  never  relished  put- 
ting forth  his  opinion  on  politics,  woman,  religion  or  cookery  ? 

One  man  prefers  a  damsel  with  flowing  auburn  ringlets, 
a  blooming  cheek,  and  deep  blue  eyes,  swimming  in  pearly 
moisture.  Another  relishes,  with  an  even  keener  delight,  a 
plump  turkey  stuffed  with  pistachio-nuts.  This  man  cleaves 
to  a  religion  which  spunges  out  the  whole  of  his  sins  in  the 
confessional-box,  and  allows  him,  if  he  so  chooses,  to  begin  a 
new  score  with  a  well-cleansed  breast.  That  individual  pos- 
sesses a  quiet  and  gustatory  relish  for  the  government  whose 
liberality  permits  him  a  respectable  share  in  its  spoils.  On 
the  other  hand,  here  is  one,  who  never  having  by  any  chance 
participated  in  the  delight  of  drawing  one  red  cent  from  the 
public  purse,  anathematizes  that  government  with  a  truly  pic- 
turesque delight.  This  Calvinist  heartily  abominates  the 
Confessional,  and  all  that  appertains  to  it,  in  any  shape  or 
way.  Here  is  a  feeder  in  a  more  homely  fashion,  who  gloats 
upon  a  broiled  rump-steak  with  fried  onions ;  while  his  friend 
is  possessed  with  the  chastest  of  admirations  for  raven  locks 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN  AMERICA.  69 

and  black  eyes,  gazing  in  whose  slumberous  depths  he  can 
dream  of  a  life  of  love  and  joy. 

It  must  be  obvious  to  you,  that  he  who  pretends  to  dictate 
to  these,  is  liable  to  be  ostracized  by  all  who  do  not  agree 
with  him. 

In  order,  if  possible,  therefore,  to  save  myself  from  such 
an  unpleasant  fate,  I  had  scarcely  attained  the  age  of  eighteen 
than  I  shaped  my  creed,  my  political  belief,  and  my  taste  to 
suit  everybody.  In  other  words,  I  resolved  to  belong  to  all 
tastes  and  creeds,  political  or  spiritual,  in  a  general  way,  but 
to  none  in  particular.  Therefore,  I  believe  in  God,  and  en- 
deavor to  do  my  duty,  without  calling  myself  Roman  Catholic, 
Episcopalian,  Member  of  the  Greek  Church,  Lutheran,  or 
Presbyterian.  In  cookery,  I  make  a  point  of  relishing  all 
the  delicacies  of  the  season,  or  of  either  half  of  the  earth 
which  is  at  present  amenable  to  the  laws  of  civilization. 
Halibut,  prairie-hen,  and  bear-steak,  are  as  warmly  delight- 
ed in  by  my  inner  man,  as  turbot,  styrian,  pheasant,  and  a 
haunch  of  English  venison  were  wont  to  be.  To  me,  my 
dear  Fiorentino,  all  governments  are  highly  respectable,  al- 
though I  own  a  shadowy  preference  for  that  one  which  gives 
the  slightest  sign  of  its  existence.  And  as  for  the  ladies,  let 
me  own  to  you  that  but  for  my  invincible  modesty,  I  should 
consider  all  of  them,  without  any  distinction  of  nationality, 
ranging  between  blushing  fifteen  and  ripened  thirty,  worthy 
of  my  most  particular  attention. 

Do  you  still  insist  upon  my  writing  to  you  as  I  really 
think?  "Yes!"  Do  I  hear  you  rightly?  Well,  then,  I 
suppose  I  must  do  so ;  but  in  intrusting  you  with  my  opinion, 
remember  that  I  pledge  you  to  the  strictest  secrecy. 

In  general,  as  far  as  a  retiring  and  bashful  man  like  my- 
self is  able  to  form  his  judgment,  the  American  lady,  saving 
in  her  language,  assimilates  more  to  the  French  than  to  an 


70  REVELATIONS    OF  AN 

English  beauty.  The  femme  comme  il  /ant,  in  New  York, 
lacks  the  physical  consistency  and  solidity,  as  well  as  the  art- 
lessness  of  Albion's  daughters.  In  revenge,  however,  for  this, 
she  exhibits  all  the  ease  and  grace,  while  she  possesses  all  the 
consummate  taste  and  elegance  of  the  Parisian  dame  from 
the  Faubourgs  St.  Germain,  or  St.  Honore.  Artificially  in- 
structed, it  has  occasionally  appeared  to  me  that  her  igno- 
rance is  real.  Full  of  elevated  sentiments,  she  too  often 
sacrifices  them  to  the  claims  of  etiquette  and  worldly  formality. 
Rather  infatuated  in  favor  of  an  artist  or  an  author,  than  en- 
thusiastic in  her  love  either  of  Art  or  of  Literature — ^mprudent 
in  the  first  place,  afterwards  reflecting — she  is  deliciously  co- 
quettish at  all  times  and  in  all  places.  In  a  word,  the  Ame- 
rican lady  has  a  young  heart  when  she  has  attained  the  ripe 
age  of  forty,  but  carries  an  old  head  upon  her  shoulders  when 
she  yet  counts  no  more  than  sixteen  years  upon  them.  Capa- 
ble of  the  greatest  sacrifices,  nay !  of  heroism  for  the  man 
she  has  honored  with  her  love,  she  is  unable  to  speak  well  of 
another  woman.  Her  life  is  an  admirable  concentration  of 
passions,  virtues,  ambitions,  jealousies,  loves,  mysteries,  flirta- 
tions, hates,  disoppointments,  and  pleasures.  These  produce  a 
sort  of  poetic  confusion  in  her  own  conscience,  and  render  her 
not  only  a  problem  to  others,  but  an  enigma,  even  to  herself. 
After  years  of  internal  struggles,  therefore,  Worn  out  by  the 
doubt  which  has  proved,  itself  unable  to  afford  her  a  solution 
for  the  intricated  and  Gordian-like  riddle  of  her  own  exist- 
ence, in  nine  cases  out  of  ten  she  becomes  religious,  and  in 
the  tenth  instance  sinks  into  literature.  Whichever  it  may 
be,  from  that  moment  she  exhibits  an  open  contempt,  and 
feels  a  secret  dislike  for  the  younger  being,  who  is  then  doing 
what  she  was  wont  to  do,  in  her  own  person. 

Two  qualities,  however,  it  would  seem   to   me  that  the 
American   lady   almost  invariably   possesses    and    retains. 


OPERA  MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  Jl 

These  are  a  sound  common  sense  in  all  questions  which  the 
heart  does  not  touch,  and,  at  the  same  time,  a  natural  appre- 
ciation for  the  really  grand  and  beautiful,  which  would  seem 
to  be  born  actually  in  her  nature. 

To  this  circumstance  is  it,  that  the  Americans,  as  a  people, 
are  indebted  for  whatever  has  been  done  in  this  country  for 
artistic  cultivation  and  progress,  or  for  the  refinement  of  life. 
Hence  it  is,  that  up  to  this  very  day,  the  male  portion  of  so- 
ciety visit  only  in  such  houses,  and  patronize  such  artists  and 
productions  as  the  ladies,  in  this  respect  very  decidedly  the 
better  half  of  them,  have  thought  proper  to  fe'eal  with  their 
approbation  and  declare  "fashionable."  It  is  little  matter 
whether  the  gentlemanly  secjtion  of  New  York  society  likes 
this  or  that  artist,  whether  it  appreciates  at  all,  either  music 
or  pictures,  or  whether  it  thinks  highly  of  this  or  that  "  lion." 
Scarcely,  even,  is  it  necessary  that  the  aforesaid  "  lion"  should 
have  a  mane  or  a  tale,  or  that  this  picture  or  the  melody  in 
question  should  be  indisputably  excellent.  Sufficient  it  is, 

that  Mrs.  T or  the  Misses  B declare  them  to  be 

worth  attention.  Some  exceptions  may  occasionally  be  met 
with.  There  are  gentlemen  who  have  studied  the  world  as 
thoroughly,  as  a  man  with  means  and  time  at  his  command- 
can  always  do,  but  these  do  not  govern  taste.  The  ladies 
alone  do  this,  at  any  rate,  so  far  as  my  limited  experience, 
controlled  by  my  unfortunate  modesty,  has  given  me  the 
means  of  judging  on  such  a  subject. 

Indeed,  beyond  the  principal  cities,  it  is  the  ladies  alone 
that  patronize  and  love  the  Arts.  These,  alone,  know  any- 
thing about  them. 

As  an  illustration  of  my  opinion,  you  will  allow  me,  my 
dear  friend,  to  give  you  an  anecdote  which  actually  occurred 
under  my  own  experience. 

Some  few  years  since,  I  sent  two  prima  donnas  of  repu- 


72  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

tation,  a  clever  pianist,  and  a  celebrated  basso,  on  a  concert- 
tour.  On  arriving  in  a  city  in  New  England,  the  agent  who 
preceded  them,  found  that  the  estimation  accorded  to  these 
artists  in  New  York,  Boston  and  Philadelphia,  had  not  yet 
travelled  there.  They  were  comparatively  unknown.  After 
some  reflection,  he  therefore  determined  to  make  the  names 
of  the  composers,  whose  pieces  were  selected  for  the  evening 
of  the  concert,  a  larger  feature  in  the  programmes  and  posters 
than  those  of  the  artists  themselves.  Consequently,  the 
names  of  the  last-mentioned  appeared  in  small  type  at  the 
head  of  the  bills,  while  those  of  Handel,  Bellini,  Beethoven 
and  Mozart,  occupied  the  most  conspicuous  places  in  them, 
and  rejoiced  in  the  most  sizeable  letters  that  the  printing- 
office  of  the  little  town  was  enabled  to  furnish. 

The  trick,  if  trick  that  could  be  called  which  was  intended 
to  impose  upon  no  one,  and  very  certainly  imposed  upon 
none  of  the  female  half  of  the  inhabitants,  succeeded. 

Two-thirds  of  the  audience  were  ladies,  but  the  other  third 
of  it,  which  would  decidedly  not  have  come  to  hear  anything 
that  anybody  could  sing,  provided  that  anybody  was  unknown 
to  them  by  reputation,  consisted  of  gentlemen.  But  imagine, 
my  good  friend  Fiorentino,  what  was  my  agent's  intense  as- 
tonishment on  the  following  morning,  when,  on  wishing  to 
settle  the  hotel-bill  for  the  artists,  he  'found  these  strange 
items  on  that  which  was  handed  to  him  by  the  very  gentle- 
manly official  standing  behind  the  desk  of  the  principal  hotel 
in  the  place : 

"  Mr.  Mozart,  Room,  Meals,  Wine,  &c.  &c.  .  .  $5  75 

Mr.  Handel,  Do,  Do,  Do, 7  50 

Mrs.  Bellini,  Room,  Meals,  Bath  and  Carriage,     9  00 
Mrs.  Beethoven,  Room  and  Meals, 4  50." 

Believe  me,  my  dear  Fiorentino,  when  I  tell  you  that  this 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  73 

bill  lias  existed,  does  exist,  and  will  be,  barring  accidents,  in 
existence  for  many  years.  When  we  next  meet  in  Paris,  I 
promise  you  that  you  shall  see  it. 

But  on  another  occasion,  when  your  correspondent  was 
travelling  with  the  renowned  Violinist  (for,  be  assured  that 
in  this  section  of  the  globe,  he  ranks  as  a  most  distinguished 
fiddler)  Ole  Bull,  and  several  other  eminent  artists,  a  con- 
cert had  been  advertised  in  one  of  the  largest  of  our  western 
cities.  It  was  in  the  course  of  being  given,  and  indeed  was 
almost  over,  when  I  was  standing  at  the  door  of  the  concert- 
room  in  close  conversation  with  my  treasurer.  You  may 
readily  enough  divine  the  verbal  skeleton  of  this  peculiarly 
interesting  colloquy.  As  it  was  going  on,  a  highly  respecta- 
ble and  well-dressed  individual,  who  proved  to  be  a  western 
farmer,  but  who  might  have  been  anything  else  that  was 
doing  well  in  those  "  diggings,"  issued  from  the  door  of  the 
hall,  with  both  hands  plunged  into  the  pockets  of  that  gar- 
ment which  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  name.  Looking  round 
him,  his  eyes  lit  upon  my  face,  which  he  seemed  to  imagine 
might  be  the  property  of  one  who  was  an  inhabitant  of  the 
city  for  that  night  only.  So,  striding  up  to  me,  he  placed 
his  broad  hand,  drawn  for  that  purpose  from  one  of  his  capa- 
cious pockets,  upon  my  shoulder,  and  thus  addressed  me — 

"  Look  a-here,  stranger,  do  you  belong  to  this  show  ? " 

"  I  have  the  honor  to  do  so,  sir.  Can  I  be  of  any  use  to 
you?" 

"Ah!  yes.  Can't  yer  let  a  fellow  know  when  all  this 
confounded  fiddling")  what  would  Ole  Bull  have  said,  Fioren- 
tino,  could  he  have  heard  this  ?)  "  will  come  to  an  end  ? " 

" Don't  you  like  the  music,  sir?"  I  blandly  inquired. 

"  Wall !  I  guess  I  do  like  the  music,  too." 

At  this  I  smiled  pleasantly,  and  made  him  a  graceful  bow. 

4 


74  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

In  those  younger  days,  my  friend,  I  was  not  considered 
altogether  devoid  of  grace. 

"But  it  has  lasted  quite  long  enough."  Here  the  trea- 
surer laughed.  "  I  say,  what's  that  darned  fellow  grinning 
at  ? "  At  my  questioner's  indignant  look,  the  official's  face 
relapsed  into  an  aspect  of  the  most  stolid  inanity.  "I've 
a  great  mind  to  'lam'  him."  The  treasurer  walked  off, 
quaking  in  his  boots.  "  Wall !  he's  gone.  All  the  better 
for  him.  But,  stranger  !  why  don't  yer  begin  with  the  show  ? 
I  would  just  like  to  see  the  '  Bull,'  that's  sartain,  and  theu 
I'd  to  home." 

Matters  are,  however,  far  otherwise  in  those  cities  which 
border  on  the  broad  Atlantic.  Here  the  public  is  now,  mu- 
sically, exceedingly  intelligent,  and  will  no  longer  endure 
anything  which  may  be  considered  artistically  second-rate.  In 
New  York,  more  especially,  Italian  Opera  is  not  only  well 
understood,  but  it  is  one  of  the  "  fashions ;"  and  when  it  was 
beginning  to  take  its  place  in  the  world  of  American  Art,  I 
was  selected  by  the  proprietors  of  the  Astor  Place  Opera 
House  to  become  its  Manager.  This  was  in  the  midsummer 
of  1849. 

Then,  very  young,  very  unwise,  very  enthusiastic,  I  was, 
in  spite  of  that  natural  modesty  to  which  I  have  elsewhere 
alluded,  un  homme  a  la  mode.  Fortune,  in  spite  of  her  ban- 
daged eyes,  seemed  to  smile  upon  me. 

Now,  alas !  it  is  quite  different.  My  years  are  in  their 
wane,  and  my  body  is  becoming  stout  and  widening  .  into 
heaviness.  Somewhat  wiser,  and  considerably  more  phleg- 
matic, I  am  no  longer  "  in  the  fashion,"  and  find  I  have  some- 
thing about  ten  years  more  to  work,  in  order  to  repay  my 
losses  of  time,  and,  consequently,  of  money,  when  I  stepped 
forward  as  the  destined  generator  (such,  Fiorentino,  was  my 
absurd  idea)  of  musical  taste  in  my  adopted  country. 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  75 

You  will  lift  your  eyes  in  reading  this,  and  demand  how  it 
can  be  possible  ?  Full  of  your  exclusively  Parisian  ideas  on 
management,  you  will  inquire  whether  I  did  not  receive  the 
Opera  House  free  of  rent  ?  You  will  ask  what  has  become 
of  my  subvention  of  half  a  million  of  francs  per  year? 
whether  I  have  not  been  secured  by  "  privilege  "  against  all 
opposition ;  and,  if  at  my  retirement  from  the  dignity  of 
directing  the  Italian  Opera,  the  subscribers,  the  government, 
or  my  immediate  successor  were  not  obliged  to  make  good 
my  losses  ? 

Fiorentino,  musical  matters  may  be  managed  in  this  way 
at  Paris  and  in  other  places  in  Europe.  In  America,  their 
management  is  a  purely  different  thing.  Here,  every 
business-  or  undertaking,  whether  an  Opera  or  slaughter- 
house, a  soap-factory  or  a  public  library,  a  railway  or  a 
monument  to  Daniel  Webster,  is  a  private  speculation.  The 
success  of  an  enterprise  depends  upon  one  of  two  features, — 
the  general  utility  of  the  work,  or  the  amount  it  realizes.  In 
the  one  case,  he  who  has  inaugurated  it,  may  possibly  starve. 
In  the  last,  should  he  know  how  to  preserve  as  well  as  he 
has  made  his  profits,  he  will  die  wealthy.  The  merit  of  a 
speculative  man  is  estimated  by  the  rate  of  discount  at  which 
his  notes  are  taken.  His  qualities,  excellencies  and  errors, 
are  valued  in  relation  with  the  balance  of  his  account  in  a 
Wall  Street  Bank.  His  merits  are  simply  estimated  by  the 
amount  of  specie  in  his  possession.  Should  he  be  able  to 
draw  a  cheque  for  one  or  two  hundred  thousand  dollars, 
every  body  will  decide  favorably  with  regard  to  his  talent. 
Could  he  call  for  double  this  amount  with  the  certainty  of 
finding  it,  he  would  undoubtedly  be  regarded  as  a  man  of 
genius.  Were  he  puzzled  to  find  a  dollar  of  his  own  for 
immediate  necessities,  beyond  any  suspicion,  he  must  be  a 
fool. 


76  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

Divine,  Florentine,  in  which  class  of  estimation  your 
correspondent  is  held  ?  Perhaps  not  in  the  last,  but  very 
certainly  in  neither  of  the  two  first. 

However,  to  return  to  my  subject,  the  lease  of  the  Astor 
Place  Opera  House  was  mine,  not  free  of  rent,  but  at  the 
rate  of  something  near  twelve  thousand  dollars  per  annum, 
which  sum  was  either  payable  in  advance,  or  to  be  taken 
from  the  first  152  subscribers  for  the  season.  Instead  of  a 
subvention  to  assist  the  speculation,  it  was  arranged  that  each 
proprietor  should  take  ten  seats  for  the  whole  season — gratis : 
— there  are,  as  a  general  rule,  dear  friend,  many  benevolent 
proprietors  to  one  house.  So  far  from  insuring  the  Director 
against  all  opposition,  it  was  determined  that  the  amount  of 
subscription-money  beyond  the  rent,  for  the  season,  should 
remain  in  the  hands  of  a  trustee  until  the  fulfilment  of  all 
promises  on  the  part  of  the  said  Director  and  Manager. 

One  of  the  proprietors,  by  name  Mr.  James  Foster,  jun.,  a 
gentleman  of  fashion,  benevolently  undertook  this  task.  It 
may  be  presumed  that  during  the  season,  he  made  a  quarter 
per  cent,  every  day  out  of  it,  by  a'ccommodating  his  mercantile 
friends  or  "  shaving  "  notes. 

Should  the  Manager,  however,  be  in  need  of  more  than 
his  fortnightly  share  of  it,  he  had  to  run  down  to  Wall  Street. 
Here,  he  would  have  the  satisfaction  of  ascertaining  that  the 
pecuniary  success  of  his  enterprise  stood  at  a  low  figure  in 
the  market,  by  the  peculiarly  high  rate  of  discount  imposed 
upon  his  note  in  more  senses  than  one. 

But,  at  least,  you  say  to  me, — "  The  operatic  habitues,  those 
who  loved  music,  did  something  to  enable  you  to  bring  over 
a  good  company." 

Yes  !     They  gave  me  many  promises ;  but  no  money. 

However,  I  am  mistaken.  Amongst  them  there  was  one 
real  lover  of  melody,  not  for  the  sake  of  fashion,  but  for  the 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  77 

sake  of  Art  itself.  This  was  Mr.  Henry  A.  Coit,  a  virtuoso 
of  the  right  stamp.  Indeed,  could  twenty-four  more  like  him 
have  been  found  in  New  York,  the  Opera  would  long  since 
have  been  an  established  fact  in  this  city. 

He  took  my  part  when  I  complained  to  the  Committee  of 
the  proprietors  who  had  expressly  promised  pecuniary  aid, 
although  they  would  not  insert  it  as  a  condition  in  the  lease, 
and  headed  a  subscription-list  for  my  support  with  his  own 
name  for  several  hundred  dollars.  His  example  was  follow- 
ed. But,  what  Mr.  Coit  may  probably  have  considered  as  a 
gift,  they  regarded  as  a  loan,  which  was  made  payable  from 
the  first  receipts  of  the  Opera  House. 

Had  not  several  artists  been  already  engaged  by  me,  it  is 
more  than  probable  I  should  have  at  once  thrown  up  the 
speculation. 

Let  me  also  ask  you,  how  much  you  may  imagine  was  the 
amount  of  this  loan,  given  under  such  conditions,  which 
should  enable  me  to  bring  out  a  new  company  from  Europe  ? 
Judging  from  those  fabulous  sums  which  private  speculators 
have  secured  and  paid  to  single  artists  in  America,  you  will 
imagine  that  I  needed  an  infinitely  larger  one,  to  induce  a 
whole  company  to  visit  these  shores.  The  reports  of  the 
liberality  of  the  middle  and  lower  classes  in  this  country,  will 
have  induced  you  to  believe  that  the  "  Upper  Ten,"  the  creme 
of  fashionable  society,  the  fleur  des  pois  of  taste  and  refine- 
ment in  the  New  "World,  now  distinguished  themselves  by  at 
the  very  least  as  prodigal  an  outlay.  Do  not  suifer  your 
imagination  to  be  too  highly  exalted,  my  amiable  Florentine. 
My  patrons  liberally  handed  me,  on  leaving  New  York,  a 
letter  of  credit  for  £540  (!)  payable  in  London,  sixty  days 
after  sight,  (this  was  very  nearly  the  time  at  which  it  was  to 
be  repaid  by  me,  here,)  and  took  from  me,  in  exchange,  a 


78  REVELATIONS    OP   AN 

transfer  of  the  reciepts  until  the  re-payment  of  the  afore- 
said £540. 

Several  weeks  after  this,  £50  more,  as  a  second  loan,  were 
received  by  me,  when  in  London,  with  a  kind  and  encourag- 
ing letter. 

In  this  most  remarkable  document,  the  belief  was  expressed, 
that  the  "  large  sums "  then  at  my  disposal,  would  enable  me 
to  bring  over  Grisi  and  Mario  (!),  or  afford  a  strong  induce- 
ment for  Jenny  Lind  and  Lablache  to  visit  this  country. 

Need  I  say  to  you,  that  I  made  not  the  slightest  attempt 
to  persuade  these  artists  to  do  this  ?  The  means  in  my  hands 
absolutely  forbade  this  satisfaction  to  the  proprietors  of,  and 
subscribers  to  the  Astor  Place  Opera  House.  To  Cruvelli 
I  however  did  speak.  At  that  period,  she  was  ready  to  visit 
America,  with  her  sister,  the  contralto,  for  the  paltry  sum  of 
ten  thousand  francs  per  month.  She,  however,  demanded  an 
engagement  of  ten  months  and  the  usual  advance  of  one-fifth. 
This  was  too  much  for  the  large  means  which  had  been  so 
liberally  placed  at  my  disposal.  However,  let  me  candidly 
confess  that  I  did  not  dare  expose  ray  pecuniary  condition  to 
a  leading  soprano,  although  she  was  an  old  acquaintance  of 
mine.  Ashamed,  both  of  my  own  position  and  for  that  of  the 
prodigal  proprietors  and  subscribers,  sooner  than  compromise 
my  own  reputation  or  injure  the  future  prospects  of  Opera  in 
New  York,  I  preferred  leaving  the  charming  Cruvelli  without 
any  definitive  answer.  Should  any  one  now  wish  to  engage 
her  to  visit  this  continent,  he  must  pay  five  times  as  much  as 
she  then  asked.  The  whole  amount  of  the  salary  must  be 
secured  her.  Servants,  hotel  expenses,  and  carriage  hire, 
will  also  have  to  come  out  of  the  pocket  of  the  enterprising 
entrepreneur.  Yet,  I  candidly  believe,  Cruvelli  was  at  that 
period  to  the  full  as  great  an  artist  as  she  is  now. 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  79 

Another  vocalist  was  then  offered  me  through  the  agency 
of  Bonola  of  Milan. 

This  was  Raffaelle  Mirate,  the  tenor,  who  asked  six  thou- 
sand francs  per  month. 

Believing  him  too  dear  at  this  price,  although  he  was  then 
young  and  fresh,  this  offer  was  declined  by  me.  Yet,  six 
years  later,  he  managed  to  get  an  engagement  in  New  York 
at  eighteen  thousand  francs  per  month,  with  one  clear  benefit, 
and  this  when  he  has  added  six  years  to  his  age,  and,  in  great 
measure,  used  up  his  voice. 

But,  there  was  another  acquisition  of  immensely  more  im- 
portance which  I  could  at  this  time  have  made,  had  I  chosen 
so  to  do. 

This  individual,  or  acquisition,  was  no  other  and  nothing 
less  than  that  man  of  many  talents,  the  Chevalier  Henry 
Wikoff. 

The  opportunity  of  securing  his  co-operation  in  management 
was  offered  me  at  the  Hotel  de  Bade,  where  he  introduced 
himself  with  surpassing  suavity  and  ease  of  manner,  propos- 
ing that  I  should  either  secure  his  services  as  a  partner  in  the 
concern,  general  diplomatist  in  its '  affairs,  or  more  specially 
as  the  Manager  of  the  New  York  Press.  Under  the  seal  of 
the  most  profound  secresy  (believe  not  that  I  should  violate 
it,  my  dear  Fiorentino,  had  he  not  himself  removed  the  veil 
for  all  who  would  listen  to  him)  he  confided  to  me  that  he  was, 
at  that  time,  engaged  in  arranging  the  preliminaries  of  a  mar- 
riage for  one  of  the  principal  members  of  the  Buonaparte 
family,  as  well  as  in  settling  the  monetary  affairs  of  a  person- 
age of  high  standing  in  the  political  world.  At; the  same  time, 
he  graciously  gave  me  to  understand,  that  having  formerly  • 
been  mixed  up  with  musical  matters,  through  the  toes  of 
Fanny  Ellsler,  he  should  feel  a  very  decided  preference  for 
the  operatic  line  of  business.  Indeed,  he  hinted,  that  through 


80  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

his  then  influence  with  the  Prince-President  (now  the  Em- 
peror Louis  Napoleon)  he  might,  could,  and  would  in  time, 
obtain  the  privilege  of  managing  the  Grand  Opera  at  Paris 
for  him  and  myself.  Consequently,  he  should  feel  not  the 
slightest  hesitation  in  abandoning  the  marriage  which  he  had 
then  on  the  tapis,  and  suffering  the  monetary  matters  to  ar- 
range themselves  for  the  well-known  personage  in  question. 

This,  you  will  at  once  confess,  my  friend,  was  a  truly  cap- 
tivating offer  of  alliance  to  one  who  had  such  a  slight  personal 
experience  in  management  as  myself. 

However,  I  naturally  required  some  little  time  to  weigh  it 
in  my  own  mind,  before  coming  to  any  determination,  and 
declined  giving  him  a  response  at  the  moment.  Luckily,  I 
was  induced  to  make  some  inquiries  respecting  the  Chevalier, 
and  learnt  from  the  very  best  authority  (this  was,  as  I  pre- 
sume there  will  be  no  harm  in  my  mentioning  the  name,  Dr. 
Conneau,  who  was,  or  had  been,  the  private  physician  to  the 
Prince-President)  the  real  position  and  occupation  of  the 
Chevalier. 

His  advice  was  clear  in  the  extreme — "  that  it  would  be 
best  for  me  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  man." 

Was  it  not  natural  for  me  to  believe,  therefore,  that  the 
marriage  preliminaries  on  which  the  Chevalier  was  then  en- 
gaged, were  those  of  some  princess  of  the  Treizieme  Arron- 
dissement  with  the  valet  de  place  of  one  of  his  intimates,  and 
that  the  pecuniary  negotiations  in  which  he  was  interested, 
might  in  all  probability  lie  between  himself  and  the  director 
of  a  Mont  de  Piete ;  while,  it  was  by  no  means  improbable 
that  his  acquaintance  with  the  Prince-President,  might  re- 
semble that  of  the  English  peasant  with  his  Grace  the  great 
Duke  of  Marlborough. 

This  individual,  my  amiable  Florentine,  was  standing  at 
the  gate  of  his  lordship's  house,  anxiously  waiting  to  see  the 
renowned  General  leave  it,  and  enter  his  carriage. 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  81 

His  curiosity  somewhat  interfered  with  his  politeness,  for 
you  know  that  all  Englishmen  are  by  nature  most  excrucia- 
tingly polite.  Nay  !  he  actually  impeded  his  Grace's  move- 
ments, whereupon,  the  Duke  spoke  to  him. 

His  words  were  these :  "  Can 't  you  get  out  of  the  way, 
you  d — d  jackanapes  ?" 

Overwhelmed  with  joy  by  this  gracious  specimen  of  Ducal 
condescension,  the  peasant  was  accustomed  all  his  lifetime  to 
brag  of  this  distinction.  And  in  the  long  winter  evenings,  he 
would  narrate  to  his  children  and  grandchildren,  as  they  sat 
around  the  brick  fireplace,  and  the  log  of  freshly  cut  wood 
smouldered  and  crackled  before  them  into  flame,  how,  in  his 
younger  days,  he  had  the  honor  of  being  spoken  to  by  the 
great  Duke  of  Marlborough. 

It  may  be  considered  as  no  improbability,  that  in  some 
way  or  other,  the  Chevalier  learnt  money  was  not  at  all  so 
plentiful  with  me  as  he  had  at  first  supposed. 

At  the  least,  it  may  be  supposed  so,  from  the  circumstance 
of  his  soon  afterwards  retiring  from  his  previous  application 
to  me,  and  starting  wpon  that  Gamble-ing  speculation  which 
secured  him  such  a  pressing  invitation  from  the  officials  of 
the  Castle  of  St.  Andrea,  in  Genoa.  Indeed,  this  invitation 
was  so  imperative,  that  it  admitted  no  possibility  of  declining 
it,  by  any  exertion  of  his  diplomatic  skill  and  subtlety. 

It  was  fully  six  years  later,  that  he  obtained  the  situation 
of  Acting  Manager  at  the  Academy  of  Music,  under  Messrs. 
Phalen  and  Coit,  which  I  had  so  carefully  avoided  giving  him 
at  the  Astor  Place  Opera  House.  But,  let  me,  my  dear  Fio- 
rentino,  to  my  shame  confess,  that  had  I  then  been  fully 
aware  of  his  managerial  capacity,  and  myself  known  as  much 
of  management  as  I  have  since  learnt,  it  would  have,  beyond 
a  doubt,  been  far  better  to  have  taken  him  when  he  offered 
himself  to  me.  So  admirably  did  he  manage  for  these  gen- 

4* 


82  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

tlemen,  that  in  three  short  months,  crowded  houses  lost  them 
more  money  than  I  had  myself  done  in  six  years.  It  would 
have  been  infinitely  better  for  me,  and  more  lucky  for  Mr. 
Wikoff  and  the  public,  had  I  been  then  as  wise  as  now,  and 
associated  him  in  my  enterprise.  With  his  aid,  my  manage- 
rial career  would  have  ended  after  three  months  instead  of 
six  years  of  struggles,  and  in  that  case  1  should  have  saved 
more  than  five  years  of  my  valuable  time.  Mr.  Wikoff 
would  have  avoided  the  troubles  attendant  upon  "  His  Court- 
ship," and  the  public  have  escaped  the  annoyances  of  reading 
"  Its  Consequences." 

You  will  therefore  see  that  I  was  actually  obliged,  through 
my  ignorance  of  the  future,  to  manage  my  business  alone. 
This  I  did,  and  ultimately  brought  together  a  highly  respecta- 
ble company.  Considering  the  small  means  at  my  disposal, 
it  might  fairly  be  considered  a  very  creditable  one,  consisting 
of  Mademoiselle  Bertucca,  Signora  Truffi,  who  had  figured  in 
the  Fry  management,  Signora  Borghese,  Signori  Forti,  Guidi, 
Beneventano,  Novelli,  and  others. 

At  that  time,  when  the  public  of  ]S"pv  York  had  not  yet 
been  accustomed  to  the  Jenny  Linds,  Sontags,  Albonis,  Grisis, 
Marios  and  Lagranges,  who  have  since  bewitched  them  out 
of  their  dollars,  it  was  a  decidedly  good  Operatic  Company, 
and  compared  with  the  Fasciotti  and  Castrone  troupe,  brought 
over  by  Mr.  W.  H.  Fry,  it  might  safely  have  been  called  an 
immense  one.  Moreover,  they  gave  satisfaction  to  the 
public,  and  under  my  direction,  this  Company,  consisting 
mostly  of  Italians,  gave  sixty  consecutive  performances  with- 
out a  single  postponement,  and  even  without  one  solitary 
alteration  in  the  bills  announcing  the  evening's  entertainment. 
This  will,  I  know,  appear  almost  incredible  to  you,  but,  never- 
theless, Fiorentino,  it  is  a  fact. 

As  regards  the  positive  standing  of  the  artists  themselves, 


OPERA    MANAGER    IN    AMERICA.  83 

they  were  good,  without  approaching  the  planetary  proportion 
of  modern  stars.  Of  Signora  Truffi,  I  have  already  spoken, 
in  a  letter  which  Berlioz  will  show  you.  With  Mademoiselle 
Bertucca,  there  is  one  little  circumstance  connected,  which 
permits  neither  eulogy  nor  criticism  upon  my  part.  In  spite 
of  that  unconquerable  bashfulness  which  is  mine  by  nature, 
she  has  become  my  wife.  It  would  be  useless  upon  your 
part,  Fiorentino,  to  ask  me  how  this  chanced.  Such,  she 
undoubtedly  is.  At  the  first  a  favorite,  she  lost  her  primary 
prestige  with  the  public  by  marrying  her  Manager.  Never- 
theless, in  your  ear,  my  friend,  I  may  whisper  my  conviction 
that  she  is  an  excellent  artist,  and  one  that  can  always  be  de- 
pended upon.  Were  I  to  say  more,  you  might  bid  me  refrain 
from  eulogizing  the  better  portion  of  my  individuality ;  where- 
fore, it  may  perhaps  be  best  for  her  that  I  should  remain  silent. 

Our  first  night  was  in  the  month  of  November,  1849,  and 
was  very  successful. 

The  entire  press,  with  one  solitary  exception,  supported 
me.  They  seemed  determined  upon  giving  me  a  fair  trial.. 
Had  I,  indeed,  receipted  the  tenth  part  of  the  aid  and  support 
given  me  at  this  period  by  the  press,  from  the  proprietors  and 
subscribers,  I  might  possibly  have  avoided  all  pecuniary  loss, 
and  established,  through  my  own  proper  efforts,  a  sound  and 
critical  musical  taste  in  America. 

You  will  observe  that  I  have  mentioned  one  solitary  ex- 
ception in  the  press,  and  you  will  be  astonished  to  hear  that 
this  was  the  only  journal  which  exclusively  lays  claim  to  a 
"  fashionable"  position  in  New  York.  One  of  its  editors,  Mr. 
Nathaniel  P.  Willis,  was  at  this  time  the  "  fashionable"  wri- 
ter. He  embroidered  his  articles  in  the  Home  Journal,  with 
peculiarly  graceful  English,  and  served  the  female  world  as 
its  paid  professor  of  etiquette.  His  weekly  contributions  dic- 
tated their  fashionable  duties.  Shining  as  an  instructor  in 


84  REVELATIONS  OF    AN 

deportment,  and  a  preceptor  in  manners,  lie  also  endeavored 
to  grasp  at  the  rank  of  a  Master  of  Ceremonies.  In  a  word, 
he  attempted  to  dictate  to  them  on  matters  of  taste,  and  felt 
the  task  of  teaching  them  how  to  pose  their  feet  on  entering  a 
ball-room,  or  how  to  sink  their  eyes  when  a  gentleman  might 
"  pop"  the  all-important  question,  much  too  small  for  his  am- 
bition. Like  himself  and  his  occupations,  are  his  writings. 
He  possesses  a  highly  refined  language,  a  style  of  extreme 
elegance  and  finish,  but  a  wonderful  paucity  of  striking  ideas. 
Like  the  banquet  set  before  the  Barmecide,  there  are  splen- 
did China  dishes  and  gold  spoons.  Vases  of  silver  and  a 
profusion  of  flowers  abound,  but  unfortunately  there  is  no 
meat.  Mental  starvation  is  a  necessity  for  him,  who  would 
sit  down  and  enjoy  a  feast  of  the  soul,  with  N.  P.  Willis. 

Fortunately  for  me,  the  ladies  of  New  York  were  not  dis- 
posed to  be  hoodwinked  by  their  self-elected  Master  of  Cere- 
monies, or  my  fate  must  have  been  a  woeful  one.  I  was 
more  bitterly  persecuted  by  this  dapper  mosquito,  than  ever 
the  unfortunate  Fry  had  been  by  Bennett.  Vatel  never 
suffered  as  much  from  you,  Fiorentino,  as  I  did  from  N.  P. 
Willis.  Jules  Janin's  persecution  of  Roqueplan  was  not  to 
be  named  with  this  untoward  visitation. 

What  could  I  do  ?  I  might  have  sued  him  for  damages 
accruing  to  me  from  his  libels,  as  Mr.  Fry  had  done  with  the 
Editor  of  the  Herald.  He  had  charged  me  with  robbing  the 
subscribers  of  their  money,  when,  it  was  only  by  superhuman 
exertions,  I  was  enabled  to  carry  on  the  season.  From  an 
excellent  lawyer,  therefore,  did  I  -  take  advice,  but  to  my  as- 
tonishment he  asked  me  where  the  Home  Journal  was  pub- 
lished, and  assured  me  the  verdict  would  be  for  so  small  an 
amount,  being  proportioned  in  all  probability  to  the  standing 
of  the  journal,  that  it  would  fail  to  pay  him  his  expenses. 

"  As  for  you,  my  dear  Max,"  he  said  with  a  courtly  smile, 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  85 

"  it  would,  I  feel  certain,  altogether  depend  upon  the  results 
of  your  season." 

On  leaving  his  office,  deeply  chagrined  to  find  my  vague 
prospect  of  twenty  thousand  dollars  damages  (!)  melting  away, 
a  bright  idea  occurred  to  me.  Why  not  imitate  Roqueplan  ? 
Fascinated  by  the  thought  of  a  newspaper  duel,  which  possesses 
all  the  charms  of  a  personal  rencounter,  without  any  of  its 
dangers,  I  rushed  home.  My  letter  was  written  and  pub- 
lished. War  was  begun.  At  it  we  went,  and,  in  a  short 
space  of  time,  the  laughers  had  changed  sides. 

Neither  one  nor  the  other  of  us  sustained  any  great  amount 
of  damage  from  the  interchange  of  our  paper  pellets.  Mate- 
rially, I  candidly  believe  we  have  both  been  benefited. 

The  whole  of  the  Opera-habitues  of  the  middle  classes,  all 
of  its  employes,  from  the  prima  donna  and  leading  tenor  to 
the  call-boys  and  supernumeraries  who  had  never  before  so 
much  as  heard  of  the  existence  of  the  Home  Journal  and  the 
"  fashionable''  notoriety  who  wrote  upon  it,  purchased  and  read  it. 
They  naturally  relished  the  verbal  insolence  to  which  their 
Manager  was  weekly,  with  a  consistent  regularity  of  the  most 
exemplary  order,  exposed.  On  the  other  side,  all  of  the 
readers  of  N.  P.  Willis's  operatic  diatribes,  who  had  never 
yet  dreamt  of  visiting  me,  before  the  curtain,  now  came.  Tl^eir 
object  being  simply  and  solely,  to  get  a  sight  of  the  unfortu- 
nate monster,  weekly  knocked  down  and  laid  out  for  inspection 
by  the  agreeable  and  accomplished  journalist. 

It  is  possible,  that  had  Mr.  Willis  known  the  circumstances, 
and  the  real  amount  of  means  placed  in  my  hands  to  carry 
on  the  Opera,  he  might  have  transposed  his  critical  disquisi- 
tions into  a  less  bitter  key,  and  managed  to  keep  in  time  and 
tune  with  the  other  journals.  Let  me  own  to  you,  my  dear 
friend,  in  a  quiet  way,  that  if  this  had  chanced  to  be  the  case, 
I  should  most  deeply  have  regretted  it. 


86  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

But  to  you,  more  especially,  beloved  Florentine,  a  few 
jottings  upon  musical  criticism,  and  those  who  deal  with  it 
in  the  New  World,  may,  possibly,  not  be  devoid  of  interest. 
You  shall  have  them. 

First,  then,  let  me  tell  you  we  have  a  real  live  French 
Baron  amongst  us,  M.  R.  De  Trobriand,  who  writes  in  the 
Gourriefdes  Etats-Unis.  Ordinarily,  he  is  a  warm  friend 
to  the  Opera,  and  a  kindly  adviser  to  artists.  However, 
should  the  prima  donna  forget  to  smile  on  him,  or  the  primo 
tenore  not  raise  his  hat  sufficiently,  in  salutation,  he  will  grow 
a  trifle  savage,  and  forget  (even  as  you  and  I  have  some- 
times done,  Fiorentino)  the  first  duty  of  a  professional  critic 
— impartiality.  M.  De  Trobriand  is  a  Baron  by  birth,  a  musi- 
cal critic  by  necessity,  and  a  barytone-singer  by  inclination.  It 
may  further  be  said,  that  he  writes  as  good  French  as  any 
Baron  can  be  expected  to  do,  and  sings  as  well  as  may  be 
desired  from  any  musical  critic.  His  style,  as  <ifeuilletoniste, 
may  be  considered  verging  on  the  Rococo.  Bon-mots  from 
the  Epoque  de  la  Regence,  with  refrains  from  old  Operas 
Comiques,  sprinkle  his  criticisms.  Nevertheless,  he  uses  the 
pen  with  sense,  a  great  deal  of  wit  and  truly  Parisian  ease, 
while  he  was  the  first  successful  transplanter  of  the  Revue- 
feuilleton  in  America. 

The  Courier  and  Enquirer  gives  cleverly-written  and 
generally  dispassionate  notices  on  Music  and  the  Drama. 
These  only  appear  at  rare  intervals,  and  on  great  occasions. 

In  the  Daily  Times,  impartial  reports  are  to  be  found, 
spiced  with  witty  remarks,  and  mingled  with  acute  and 
shrewd  observation. 

One  daily  paper  alone  attempts  to  give  anything  like 
theoretical  criticism.  This  is  the  Tribune.  But  its  critical 
disquisitions  may  be  said,  my  dear  friend,  to  be  rather  ana- 
tomical dissections  of  the  form,  than  psychological  observa- 


OPERA  MANAGER   IN    AMERICA.  87 

tions  upon  the  spirit  of  music.  The  present  musical  critic 
of  this  journal,  for,  at  the  time  of  which  I  am  speaking,  it 
had  not  yet  taken  so  scientific  a  position,  uses  in  every  ten  or 
a  dozen  words  some  four  or  five  technical  expressions.  By 
this  simple  means,  he  has  the  satisfaction  of  rendering  his 
writing  unintelligible  to  the  general  reader,  while  it  is  of  no 
service  to  the  practical  musician.  You  and  I  know,  Fioren- 
tino,  that  what  may  be  good  for  the  mere  student,  is  useless 
to  the  composer,  and  incomprehensible  to  the  amateur.  In 
short,  the  mathematical  rules  of  music  are  not  the  music 
itself.  They  are  simply  its  physical  conditions,  in  the  same 
way  as  the  theory  of  distributing  and  balancing  color  cannot 
be  esteemed  the  art  of  painting. 

Correct  judgments  upon  Art  are  generally  given  in  the 
Albion  and  Weekly  Dispatch,  but  in  some  of  the  other  scores 
upon  scores  of  papers  published  in  New  York,  you  may 
occasionally  discover  that  "  *  Lucrezia  Borgia'  is  a  sparkling 
comic  Opera,  written  by  Rossini,"  that  "  the  '  Barber  of 
Seville '  is  the  best  thing  Verdi  has  ever  given  to  the  musical 
public,"  or,  that  "  the  ladies  of  the  Chorus  in  <  Rigoletto' 
(which  contains  no  female  Chorus)  were  dreadfully  out  of 
tune."  Perhaps  you  will  be  informed,  "  that  the  magnificent 
contralto  notes  of  Jenny  Lind  constituted  the  secret  of  her 
triumph,"  or,  that  "  the  Ut  de  poitrine  of  Benedetti  rivals,  in 
its  power,  that  of  the  huge  Lablache."  Only  figure  to  your- 
self, my  good  friend,  the  despair  of  that  Titan  of  all  bassi, 
past,  present,  and  to  come,  should  he  ever  conceive  that  there 
are  musical  critics  actually  in  existence,  who  believe  in  his 
physical  possession  of  a  mythical  Ut  de  poitrine. 

But,  let  me  return  once  more  to  my  narration  of  those 
events  which  were  connected  with  my  debut  in  American 
Musical  Management. 

Although  the  sixty  performances  of  the  season  took  place 


88  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

without  the  slightest  disappointment  to  the  public,  it  must  not 
be  presumed  that  they  could  be  given,  without  difficulties  and 
annoyances  of  the  most  serious  description  to  the  Manager. 

Was  there  ever  any  Manager,  whose  luck  saved  him  from 
annoyance  and  difficulty  ? 

No!  Fiorentino.  That  man  who  is  destined  to  be  a 
Manager,  is,  most  indubitably,  not  born  with  a  silver  spoon  in 
his  mouth.  It  was  only  my  enthusiasm  for  the  Art,  and  a 
lying  confidence  in  the  future,  which  gave  me  the  energy  and 
the  capacity  for  perseverance. 

Let  me  detail  to  you  one  of  the  numerous  mischances,  on 
which  I  can  now  pleasantly  lay  the  finger  of  my  recollection. 

At  the  last  rehearsal  but  one  of  the  "  Maria  di  Ilohan," 
never  before  placed  upon  the  stage  in  this  part  of  the  world, 
great  carelessness  was  evinced  by  some  of  the  members  of 
the  Orchestra.  Indeed,  matters  went  worse  with  them  at 
this  than  they  had  done  at  the  first  rehearsal.  Growing 
nervous  for  the  consequences  of  this  unwonted  negligence 
upon  their  part,  I  rebuked  the  offending  portion  with  con- 
siderable asperity.  The  last — a  Dress  Rehearsal — was  to 
come  off  upon  the  same  evening.  More  than  a  hundred  of 
the  subscribers  had  received  invitations  to  attend  it,  and  were 
already  in  the  house.  But,  on  entering  the  Orchestra,  I 
found  myself  alone  there,  with  some  two  or  three  only  out 
of  its  forty-two  members.  It  was  evident  that  a  conspiracy 
had  taken  place,  and  I  at  once  hastened  upon  the  stage. 
Here,  a  messenger  met  me  from  them,  who  informed  me,  that 
the  absent  members  had  determined  neither  to  attend  re- 
hearsal nor  performance,  until  a  public  apology  had  been 
made  by  me,  for  the  intemperate  expressions  I  had  made  use 
of,  that  morning.  At  the  same  time,  with  a  naivete  peculiar 
to  the  musical  profession  in  this  country,  he  invited  me  to 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  89 

step  round  to  a  bar-room  near  the  theatre,  in  which  they 
were  assembled,  and  register  that  apology. 

You  know  me  of  old,  my  friend,  and  may  consequently 
divine  what  answer  was  given  to  the  mutineers. 

Pulling  out  my  watch,  I  told  them  that  if  they  had  not 
determined  on  returning  to  their  duties,  unconditionally,  in 
fifteen  minutes,  they  might  one  and  all  consider  themselves 
discharged. 

Had  the  offended  parties  themselves  personally  spoken  to 
me,  immediately  after  the  morning  rehearsal,  the  difficulty 
might  have  been  settled  long  before  evening,  but  it  was  im- 
possible to  offer  them  any  apology  under  such  circumstances 
as  the  present.  The  next  day,  the  Chorus  would  have  hoisted 
the  flag  of  insurrection — the  tailors  and  tailoresses  would 
have  gotten  up  a  charming  little  emeute — the  firemen  would 
have  determined  upon  striking ;  and,  as  for  the  three  prima 
donnas,  Heaven  only  knows  what  they  might  have  done.  It 
was  clear  to  me  that  the  difficulty  had  to  be  overcome,  and 
my  course  was  therefore  determined  upon.  Fifteen  minutes 
had  passed,  and  none  of  the  refractory  fiddlers  appeared.  In 
consequence  of  this,  I  was  obliged  to  adjourn  the  rehearsal, 
and  declare  the  whole  of  the  malcontents  discharged,  on  ac- 
count of  their  wilful  breach  of  contract. 

So  far,  Fiorentino,  so  good.  But,  "  Maria  di  Rohan  "  was 
announced  for  the  following  evening,  and,  at  that  time,  it  was 
believed  by  me,  that  the  postponement  of  an  Opera  would 
terminate  my  career  as  a  musical  notoriety,  and  that  my 
pecuniary  death  was  involved  in  the  protest  of  a  note. 

You  laugh,  my  good  friend.  Alas !  what  strange  illusions 
we  are  subject  to,  in  our  youthful  advance  upon  a  knowledge 
of  this  world ! 

Keenly  alive  to  this  idea,  I  began  immediately  to  revolve 
what  was  to  be  done,  and  in  half  an  hour  more,  the  only  two 


90  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

remaining  members  of  the  Orchestra,  the  Stage-manager, 
Orchestra-librarian,  and  every  available  personage  in  the 
theatre,  had  started  with  myself  in  search  of  musical  recruits. 
They  were  impressed  everywhere.  We  seized  them  in  the 
streets.  Descents  were  made  upon  the  highly  moral  dancing- 
houses.  Fiddlers  were  taken  from  the  vessels  of  war  in  the 
harbor.  That  night,  no  musician  was  secure.  He  was  en- 
listed wherever  he  might  be  found.  At  Jive  in  the  following 
morning,  we  had  collected  a  new  Orchestra.  At  seven  o'clock, 
the  first  rehearsal  was  called,  with  closed  doors.  The  key 
was  in  my  breeches'  pocket.  There  was  not  the  slightest 
possibility  of  escape  for  any  one  of  them.  When  ten  had 
stricken,  breakfast,  prepared  by  my  orders,  was  served  in 
the  green-room.  At  eleven,  we  had  the  second  rehearsal. 
Dinner  was  ready  at  two  o'clock  for  every  body.  The  third 
rehearsal  was  called  on,  at  three  precisely.  When  it  had  con- 
cluded, at  a  quarter  after  six,  the  doors  were  unlocked,  and 
they  had  permission  given  them  to  retire  for  one  hour.  At 
eight  o'clock,  the  performance  of  the  Opera  of  "Maria  di 
Rohan  "  had  commenced.  When  eleven  struck,  a  complete 
triumph  over  insubordination  in  the  ranks  of  my  Orchestra 
had  been  achieved,  and  at  midnight  I  was  in  bed  and  sound 
asleep,  after  forty  hours  of  unremitted  labor  and  continuous 
anxiety. 

You  may  divine,  my  friend,  the  wrath  of  the  discharged 
fiddlers.  Suffice  it  to  say,  that  it  actually  beggars  the  at- 
tempt of  my  imperfect  English  to  describe  it. 

All  was,  however,  useless,  and  my  mode  of  dealing  with  so 
flagrant  a  case  of  insubordination,  had,  I  am  happy  to  say,  a, 
subsequently  most  salutary  influence  over  the  Orchestras  in 
New  York  generally,  and,  perhaps,  more  especially  with  those 
over  whom  I  had  the  honor  to  preside. 

After  this  occurrence  matters  progressed  very  smoothly, 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN  AMERICA.  91 

and  the  benevolent  .proprietors  and  subscribers,  touched  by 
the  visible  harmony  that  reigned  this  year,  so  far  as  they 
might  see,  (for  when,  Fiorentino,  was  there  ever  a  real 
harmony  amongst  the  sons  and  daughters  of  Melody?)  in 
the  Astor  Place  Opera  House,  and  which  caused  them  no 
trouble  whatever,  determined  at  last,  so  they  said,  to  do 
something  for  my  advantage. 

Touched  by  the  unanimity  of  this  determination,  one  of 
the  proprietors  of  the  Opera  House  to  whom  I  have  else- 
where alluded,  sent  for  me,  and  the  following  conversation 
ensued.  He  also  was  determined  to  do  for  me.  Should 
there  be  anything  equivocal  in  this  expression,  remember, 
my  amiable  Fiorentino,  that  I  am  not  writing  in  my  native 
Teutonic.  Consequently,  you  must  ascribe  me  a  wide  margin 
in  my  English  phraseology. 

"  My  dear  Max !"  he  said  in  the  most  affectionate  of  man- 
ners, on  seeing  me  ;  "  do  you  know  that  you  are  very  poor 
in  good  scenery  ?" 

"  I  have  quite  enough  to  do,  sir,  in  paying  my  salaries,  and 
procuring  dresses,  music  and  properties." 

"  Well,  I  am  inclined  to  help  you,"  he  continued,  with  one 
of  the  blandest  of  truly  benevolent  smiles  upon  his  countenance. 
"  Listen  to  me.  There  is  some  splendid  scenery  in  the 
Opera  House,  which  has  been  painted  by  Allegri." 

I  nodded  my  head  in  answer  to  this  observation,  for  I 
knew  it. 

"  It  formerly  belonged  to  Mr.  Fry,  but  has  been  mort- 
gaged." 

My  reply  was,  that  I  was  well  aware  of  this  fact. 

He  looked  sharply  into  my  face,  but  was  apparently 
satisfied,  by  its  immobility,  that  I  knew  no  more.  According- 
ly, he  continued.  "  In  default  of  the  payment  of  the  mortgage, 
the  whole  of  this  scenery  will  be  sold  to-morrow  by  the 


92  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

Sheriff.  Now,  supposing  that  I  should  lend  you  the  money 
necessary  for  its  purchase — " 

"  Upon  what  conditions  ?"  I  immediately  inquired. 

You  must  allow,  my  friend,  that  this  was  an  exceedingly 
natural  question  upon  my  part. 

"  Conditions !"  he  repeated  after  me.  "  Oh !  they  shall  not 
be  hard  ones.  I  presume  that  you  might  get  it  for  some- 
thing close  upon  two  thousand  dollars.  It  is  worth  five,"  he 
parenthetically  observed.  "  Now,  if  you  choose  to  transfer 
to  me  the  first  hundred  dollars  of  your  receipts  for  the 
ensuing  twenty  performances,  you  shall  have  the  money. 
Or,  possibly,  it  might  be  better  for  me  to  pay  it,  myself,  to  the 
Sheriff." 

"  I  will  think  over  the  matter,  sir,  and,  should  it  appear 
advisable,  I  shall  certainly  avail  myself  of  your  kind  offer." 

So  saying,  I  left  him,  firmly  convinced  in  my  own  mind 
that  this  gentleman,  and  nobody  else  than  this  gentleman 
himself,  was  the  mortgagee.  Or,  rather,  that  he  was  the 
mortgagee  on  behalf  of  the  proprietors,  who,  instead  of 
benefiting  me  by  allowing  my  management  the  use  of  this 
scenery,  actually  wished  to  make  me  pay  in  the  above  man- 
ner the  debts  of  Mr.  E.  P.  Fry.  Fortunately,  my  suspicions 
had  been  aroused  by  his  unwonted  familiarity,  and  I  was 
consequently  prepared  for  him. 

On  the  morrow,  I  accordingly  sent  my  head-carpenter, 
Mr.  Tunison,  a  true  and  confidential  friend,  to  the  auction, 
with  the  order,  upon  my  account,  to  bid  five  hundred  dollars 
for  the  scenery,  and  on  no  account  to  go  beyond  this  figure. 

Nobody  appeared  at  the  auction,  save  Tunison  and  the 
Sheriff.  * 

Tunison  offers  one  hundred  dollars,  and  the  Sheriff  himself 
caps  the  offer  with  double  that  amount.  Tunison,  then,  says 
three  hundred,  and  the  Sheriff  makes  -a  bid  of  four.  Matters 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  93 

are  progressing  very  rapidly.      Five  hundred  is  offered  by 
Tunison.     "  Six  hundred !"  says  the  Sheriff. 

Tunison,  then,  takes  up  his  hat  and  leaves  the  room. 

For  a  moment,  the  Sheriff  looked  decidedly  astonished. 
But  he  had  his  private  instructions  not  to  sell,  save  at  a 
certain  amount.  What  was  he  to  do?  This  did  not  require 
a  very  lengthy  consideration.  Obedient  to  his  instructions, 
and  with  the  keenest  of  noses  for  his  own  j^er-centage,  he 
proceeded  with  the  sale. 

"Seven  hundred  dollars!"  he  ejaculated.  "This  lot  of 
truly  splendid  scenery,  painted  by  Allegri,  in  a  style  that 
completely  rubs  out  the  English  scene-painter  Stanfield,  and 
leaves  his  rival,  Turner,  nowhere,  is  going  at  seven  hun- 
dred—" 

"  Eight !  did  you  say,  sir,  for  these  magnificent  works  of 
art  ?  Eight  hundred  dollars !  Going — going — going.  Does 
nobody  bid  more  ?  " 

"  One  thousand ! "  he  interrupts  himself  with,  bowing  to  an 
imaginary  individual  in  a  far  corner  of  the  room.  "  On  my 
honor — not  as  a  Sheriff,  but  an  auctioneer — "  he  in  all  likeli- 
hood prudently  added,  "  it  is  dirt  cheap.  Fifteen  hundred ! 
Ah !  we  are  now  approaching  the  real  figure.  Going — 
going.  It  completely  whips  Delacroix  out  of  the  field. 
Horace  Vernet  couldn't  touch  it .  Does  nobody  say  more 
than  fifteen  hundred?  Going — going.  Two  thousand  dol- 
lars !  Two  thousand  for  the  first — for  the  second — for  the — 
Will  nobody  bid  more  ?  Two  thousand  dollars  for  the  third 

time !    Gone — to ! "   Here,  he  named  my  kindly  adviser, 

who  had  so  benevolently  offered  to  advance  me  the  money 
necessary  for  the  purchase. 

"  Not  altogether  a  bad  half-hour's  work !"  said  the  Sheriff, 
as  he  sat  down  and  made  out  a  bill  of  sale  and  of  his  per 


94  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

centage,  which,  it  is  to  be  presumed,  he  presented  to  his  em- 
ployer, with  his  congratulations. 

Half  an  hour  afterwards,  I  again  saw  this  gentleman,  at  his 
request. 

"  How  is  it,"  asked  he,  "  that  you  have  let  such  an  oppor- 
tunity escape  you  ?  " 

"I  have  changed  my  mind.  I  shall  have  new  scenery 
painted." 

"  This  scenery  is  perfectly  new.  Now  I  will  make  a  bar- 
gain with  you,  and  sell  or  hire  it  to  you." 

"  Well !  sir,"  said  I,  "  let  us  make  a  bargain.  First  of  all, 
let  me  ask  you  whether  you  have  been  paid  the  rent  for  the 
house?" 

"Certainly!"  he  replied.  "The  hundred  and  fifty-two 
subscribers  have  all  paid." 

"  Then,"  I  rejoined,  as  coldly  as  a  cake  of  ice  sliced  in 
winter  from  the  Wenham  Lake,  "  the  house  is  mine  until 
October  next.  Therefore,  I  request  you  to  remove  your 
property  in  the  next  twenty-four  hours,  or  to  pay  me  storage 
for  it." 

He  immediately  flew  into  a  wild  passion,  but  I  coolly  told 
him,  that  unless  he  had  the  whole  of  his  scenery  removed  by 
twelve  o'clock  on  the  next  day,  Mr.  Tunison  would  be  in- 
structed to  have  it  all  placed  in  the  middle  of  the  street. 

The  next  day,  he,  in  his  turn,  called  upon  me,  and  it  was 
then  agreed  that  the  scenery  should  remain  in  the  Opera 
House,  and  that,  instead  of  storage-money,  I  should  have  the 
right  to  use  it. 

He  never  forgave  me  this  trick,  my  dear  Fiorentino,  and 
used  to  say  that — "  it  was  suggested  by  a  Yankee,  as  no  for- 
eigner would  have  had  sufficient  wit."  It  must  be  said,  my 
friend,  that  in  uttering  this  opinion  he  most  prodigiously  over- 
rates his  own  skill,  and  underrates  that  of  the  Yankees.  Un- 


OPEEA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  95 

fortunately,  Teutonic  as  I  am,  I  certainly  proved  one  too 
many  for  him,  in  this  instance,  and  that,  unassisted. 

As  has  been  previously  mentioned,  the  subscribers  to  the 
Opera  House  wished  to  demonstrate  to  me  their  satisfaction 
with  my  management,  and  to  do  something  for  the  Manager. 
They  accordingly  proposed  to  give  three  Fancy  Balls,  or  more, 
if  successful,  for  my  benefit.  But,  you  must  not  imagine  that 
a  fancy  ball  in  New  York  bears  any  resemblance  to  the  tu- 
multuous thronging  and  headlong  gaiety  of  a  bal  masque  at 
Paris.  Masks  are  here  prohibited,  and  at  fancy  balls  in  this 
city,  the  visitor  may  appear  in  the  dress  that  pleases  him  best 
and  becomes  him  least,  with  the  full  consciousness  of  the 
awkwardness  of  a  novel  costume  written  upon  his  bared  face 
As  a  natural  consequence  of  this,  he  moves  as  stiffly,  and  dan- 
ces as  awkwardly  as  the  wooden  figures  in  front  of  the  instru- 
ment of  a  Piedmontese  organ-grinder,  until  his  limbs  begin  to 
be  loosened,  and  he  forgets  the  strangeness  of  his  unwonted 
attire,  under  the  influence  of  a  flask  of  Champagne,  or  the 
stronger  and  fuller  body  of  a  Burgundy.  Moreover,  fancy 
balls  come  with  sufficient  rarity  to  tempt  no  great  amount 
of  variety  in  the  costumes.  The  same  Julius  Casar  and  the 
same  Vestal,  in  dress  at  least,  appear  at  all.  Don  Juan  and 
Zerlina  are  always  to  be  found  together.  The  French  Vice- 
Consul  will  make  his  entry  as  a  Bedouin,  and  the  Gambler 
figures  there  as  a  Gentleman  of  the  old  school.  Mrs.  B — 
displays  her  curls  and  diamonds  as  Madame  Pompadour, 
which  character  she  must  have  assumed  some  dozen  times. 
The  lovely  Mrs.  W —  and  her  two  even  fairer  sisters,  shine 
there  as  the  Three  Graces,  while  you  might  chance  even  to 
light  upon  Mr.  C — ,  doing  the  character  of  Adonis,  stereo- 
typed upon  memory,  by  his  persistent  appearance  in  its 
remarkably  tight  unmentionables. 

Sufficient  be  it,  that  my  faith  in  fancy  dress  balls  was  of 


96  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

the  most  homoeopathic  character.  It  was  obviously  impossi- 
ble that  three  of  them  could-  succeed. 

In  consequence  of  this  conviction,  which  I  entertained, 
young  as  I  was  in  New  York  life,  and  which  is  still  entertained 
by  me,  I  requested  as  a  favor  that  these  balls  might  be  simply 
full  dress  ones.  This  favor  was  granted  me,  and  then,  a  dozen 
of  the  most  fashionable  gentlemen  formed  a  committee,  and 
took  the  business  in  their  own  hands.  Nothing  was  required 
of  me,  except  the  preparation  and  decoration  of  the  Opera 
House  for  the  occasion.  These  were,  it  must  be  confessed, 
sufficiently  onerous  in  the  matter  of  expense.  Firstly,  a  new 
flooring  had  to  be  provided  for  the  house,  and  six  hundred 
dollars  were  demanded  for  this  alone.  The  decorations  for 
the  stage  required  an  expenditure  of  four  hundred.  Then, 
one  of  the  committee  spoke  with  me.  He  wished  to  have 
two  Orchestras,  as  one  would  scarcely  be  heard  in  the  buzz 
and  movement  of  the  enormous  crowd  which  was  expected  by 
them.  Another  suggested  that  I  might  as  well  procure  new 
carpets  for  the  lobbies ;  while  a  third  intimated  that  ranges  of 
flowers  (it  was  then,  Fiorentino,  in  the  month  of  January) 
should  be  placed  on  either  side  of  the  principal  staircase  ;  and 
a  fourth  kindly  advised  that  refreshments  should  be  provided 
gratis,  for  the  ladies.  To  all  this,  need  it  be  said,  that  I,  in 
my  innocence,  unhesitatingly  assented. 

The  day  of  the  ball  at  length  drew  near,  and  no  advertise- 
ment of  it  was  to  be  seen.  Upon  my  inquiring  the  reason 
of  this,  I  was  informed  that  nearly  the  whole  of  the  tickets 
had  been  already  disposed  of,  and  that  advertising  would, 
most  certainly,  be  an  unnecessary  expense. 

It  is  superfluous  to  say  that  such  a  result  of  the  labors  of 
the  committee  delighted  me,  and  that  this  delight,  upon  my 
part,  actually  ordered  more  flowers  and  refreshments. 

But  two  days  previously,  some  of  my  personal  friends  had 


OPERA  MANAGER   IN  AMERICA.  97 

applied  for  tickets  to  some  of  its  members,  and  could  obtain 
none.  It  was  moreover  told  me,-  that  strangers  stopping  at 
tlie  principal  hotels  had  offered  large  prices  to  secure  an  ad- 
mission. It  was,  however,  too  late.  When  informed  of  this, 
although  filled  with  regret  for  the  disappointment  of  my 
friends,  I  was  overwhelmed  with  joy  upon  my  own  account. 
Rubbing  my  hands  warmly  together,  I  executed  a  pas  seul  in 
my  own  room,  which  would  most  certainly  have  astonished 
St.  Leon,  and  dispatched  orders  for  a  larger  quantity  of  flow- 
ers and  more  refreshments.  Experience,  Fiorentino,  had  not 
yet  taught  me,  how  little  dependence  it  was  prudent  to  place 
upon  those  whose  labors  we  do  not  pay  for. 

At  length,  the  long-expected  evening  arrived.  In  order 
to  enjoy  the  coup  d'ceil  on  entering  the  crowded  ball-room, 
I  repaired  thither  tolerably  late. 

Judge  of  my  astonishment,  my  friend,  when,  on  entering 
the  wide  salon,  mine  eyes  fell  on  no  more  than  some  two  or 
three  hundred  persons.  It  is  true  that  these  were  the  creme 
de  la  creme  of  New  York  society.  But  was  this  any  conso- 
lation, to  one  whose  pockets  had  been  emptied  to  afford  them 
an  evening's  amusement  ?  There  they  were,  a  select  little 
party  of  intimate  acquaintances,  amusing  themselves  upon 
my  premises,  ordering  waltzes  and  polkas  from  my  two 
Orchestras,  eating  my  refreshments  and  destroying  my 
flowers,  after  having  excluded  from  the  ball  not  only  my 
personal  friends,  but  that  trusting,  generous,  and  sympathetic 
friend  who,  alone,  has  ever  tendered  me  an  unwavering  sup- 
port, and  whenever  I  have  trusted  to  it  alone,  has  rarely, 
ought  I  not  to  say,  never  failed  me — the  New  York  public. 
Suffice  it,  that  I  left  the  ball-room,  annoyed  with  their  callous 
egotism,  but  far  more  angered  with  myself  for  having  in  the 
slightest  degree  trusted  them. 

Of  course,  the  expenses  of  this  ball  very  far  overrun  the 


98  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

receipts  from  it ;  but  no  one  dreamt,  for  so  much  as  one  mo- 
ment, of  making  up  the  difference  between  them,  to  me. 
They  seemed  to  imagine  that  it  was  my  speculation,  and 
carried  their  indifference  so  far,  as  not  even  to  hint  their 
regret  that  it  had  failed,  or  offer  me  their  acknowledgments 
for  the  hospitality  which  I  had  offered  them.  Need  you 
be  informed,  that  the  other  two  balls  did  not  take  place  ? 

This  untoward  result,  combined  with  the  everlasting  out- 
lays in  music,  dresses,  and  properties  unavoidable  in  a 
Manager's  first  season,  brought  me  considerably  in  arrear 
in  my  pecuniary  affairs.  My  pockets  were  not  only  empty, 
but  I  wras  in  debt  to  an  amount  of  many  thousand  dollars. 

Not  despairing,  however,  and  believing  that  the  turn  must 
be  well  at  hand,  I  placed  the  "  Don  Giovanni"  of  Mozart  in 
rehearsal. 

Promises  had  been  made  of  its  production,  regularly,  by 
all  Managers,  for  the  last  fifteen  years.  Some  twenty  years 
previously,  it  had  been  rendered  by  the  Garcia  troupe  when 
in  this  country.  This  time,  I  had  made  up  my  mind  not  to 
depend  on  the  proprietors,  and  in  a  measure,  to  abjure  any 
dependence  upon  the  "  Upper  Ten."  Those  to  whom  I  ap- 
pealed, were  that  public  which  I  had  hitherto  been  managed 
into  a  neglect  of.  Nor  did  they  fail  me. 

The  Opera  of  "  Don  Giovanni"  brought  me  support  from 
all  classes,  and  attracted  persons  of  all  professions  and  every 
description  to  the  Opera  House.  Fourteen  consecutive  even- 
ings was  it  played  to  crowded  houses.  This  Opera,  alone, 
enabled  me  to  conclude  the  season  and  satisfy  all  demands 
made  upon  my  exchequer. 

Nor  is  this  the  first  time  Mozart's  matchless  master-piece 
has  saved  some  poor  devil  of  a  Manager  from  ruin.  It  is 
truly  wonderful  how,  not  only  the  music,  but  the  mere  plot 
of  this  Opera,  interests  the  public,  in  all  and  every  country 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  99 

in  which  it  may  be  performed.  Indeed,  there  is  no  tale 
which,  under  forms  so  multiple  and  various,  has  so  often 
been  employed  by  poets  in  almost  every  land,  as  the  "  Don 
Juan,"  if  I  possibly  except  the  more  mystical  and  absurd 
fable  of  the  "  Faust."  These  two  subjects  would  seem  never 
to  lose  their  attraction  or  to  fail  in  the  interest  which  they 
attempt  to  excite,  in  whatsoever  shape  they  may  be  presented 
to  us.  As  Romance  or  Tragedy,  Ballet,  Poem,  or  Opera, 
they  have,  in  turn,  for  more  than  two  hundred  years,  exer- 
cised their  influence  over  all  mankind.  "  Don  Juan  Senorio" 
is  the  title  of  a  drama  by  a  Spanish  author,  whose  name  is 
Zorilla,  that  supplied  Moliere  with  the  plot  of  his  "Don 
Juan."  The  Italian  poet  Du  Ponte  wrote  the  libretto  for 
Mozart's  Opera.  In  Germany,  Grabbe  and  others  have 
adopted  the  same  fable,  while  the  English  "  Byron"  has 
stolen  the  name  and  married  it  immortally  to  his  own  verse  as 
a  "  Don  Juan"  of  his  own.  Still  more,  has  the  weird  imagi- 
nation of  Faust's  thirst  for  the  secrets  of  Infinity  offered  an 
inexhaustible  mine  to  all  poets  and  musicians.  Even  in 
1587,  a  certain  Johann  Spies  had  published  in  Teutchland, 
the  romance  of  "Faust."  In  1594,  a  Dutchman  named 
Toleth  Shotus  edited  a  tale  called  "  Faustus,"  which  he 
admits  having  translated  from  the  Spanish.  Theophilo  di 
Adama,  a  Sicilian  writer,  composed  somewhat  later  an 
Italian  legend  with  the  title  of  "  Faust."  The  French,  in  the 
olden'  time,  played  mysteries  which  were  known  under 
the  name  of  "  Faust."  Contemporary  with  William  Shak- 
speare,  was  an  English  dramatist  called  "Marlow,"  who 
wrote  a  play  upon  the  same  subject.  Spohr  founded  his 
well-known  Opera  upon  this  fable.  Ballets  almost  innumer- 
able have  been  welded  upon  this  subject.  Scarcely  a  writer 
of  dance-music,  to  a  consistent  plot,  but  has  felt  it  incumbent 
upon  him  to  treat  Faust  to  a  few  pas  in  some  shape  or  other. 


100  .REVELATIONS    OP   AN 

Goethe  has  consecrated  the  myth  by  adopting  it  to  his  own 
subtle  and  quaint  intelligence,  while  Byron  has  impudently 
seized  upon  it,  as  he  had  done  upon  the  name  of  Don  Juan, 
and  converted  it  into  a  shape  bearing  no  more  than  a  faint 
resemblance  to  the  original,  in  his  own  "  Manfred." 

But,  why  is  it  that  these  two  fables  have  so  strongly  and 
decidedly  excited  the  curiosity  of  the  masses?  Is  it  not  that 
these  two  mythic  characters  (for  the  character  contains  the 
fable,  more  than  the  fable  contains  the  character)  represent, 
in  the  pursuits  and  trials  to  which  they  are  exposed,  the  two 
horns  of  that  dilemma  in  which  human  nature  is  placed  ? 

Faust  is  employed  upon  the  pursuit  of  knowledge  under 
difficulties,  while  Don  Juan  is  engrossed  in  the  pursuit  of 
pleasure. 

Faust  would  search  into  and  examine  the  origin  of  things. 
He  is  curious  about  the  real  purpose  of  his  existence.  Don 
Juan  entertains  the  idea  that  he  has  been  placed  in  this  world 
simply  to  enjoy  it,  and  that  it  is  to  be  reckoned  by  him  as  so 
much  material  for  his  own  pleasure. 

Both  of  them  are  philosophers.  While  Faust  is  a  disci- 
ple of  Socrates,  Don  Juan  has  a  decided  touch  of  Epicurus 
in  his  nature.  Both  of  them  are  religious.  The  latter 
blindly  believes  his  dogma,  like  an  excellent  Roman  Catholic  ; 
while  the  first  is  ready  to  believe,  but  wants  PROOF  to  wipe 
away  his  doubts.  Is  not  the  same  the  case  with  many,  other- 
wise, very  admirable  Protestants  ?  Both  are  determined  to 
act,  coute  que  coute,  as  they  think,  and  consequently  both  have 
"  to  pay  the  piper."  Faust  makes  a  pact  with  Satan,  and 
goes  to  hell.  Don  Juan,  as  a  homicidal  reprobate  and  liber- 
tine, has  the  satisfaction  of  travelling  upon  the  same  road,  and  by 
as  short  a  cut.  Connected  with  this  portion  of  their  personal 
history,  Florentine,  there  is  one  very  remarkable  circum- 
stance. The  first  author  of  "Don  Juan,"  Zorilla,  and  the 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  101 

last  author  of  "  Faust,"  Goethe,  entertained  very  strikingly 
different  ideas  from  all  other  writers,  touching  ("  Manfred's" 
finale  is  altogether  a  most  dubious  one)  the  exit  of  their 
heroes  from  this  sublunary  sphere.  They  both  dispatch- 
ed them,  in  a  remarkably  off-hand  manner,  to  —  Heaven. 
Here,  they  both  obtain  the  pardon  not  only  of  their  first 
lady-loves,  Gretchen  and  Donna  Inez,  but  of  One  who  is 
at  the  same  time  far  more  mighty  and  infinitely  more 
forgiving ! 

But,  I  must  beg  the  pardon  of  Theophilo  di  Adama.  He 
also  inclines  to  the  merciful  view  of  the  question,  and  frus- 
trates Satan's  views  upon  the  soul  of  his  Faust,  through  the 
intercession  and  interference  of  the  Holy  Virgin. 

Poetic,  most  certainly,  this  solution  of  their  enigmatic  ca- 
reers is.  A  man  who  does  wrong,  in  following  out  the  bias 
imprinted  upon  his  perceptions  by  Nature,  ought  not,  as  it 
will  seem  to  you,  to  go  to  the  inferior  regions  which  human 
vanity  persists  in  conceiving  the  place  of  final  retribution. 
Still  less  ought  he  to  be  consigned  thither,  if,  intending  to  cjo 
right,  he  has  simply  mistaken  one  road  for  another.  While 
that  man  who  thirsts  through  his  whole  life  after  truth,  can 
really,  as  you  will  say  to  me,  have  nothing  to  fear  from  Satan. 
When  his  spirit  is  at  last  capable  of  seeing  clearly,  he  is  not 
condemned  to  eternal  darkness,  but  is  rather  summoned  by  a 
Higher  Power  into  the  regions  of  living  day.  Common  jus- 
tice sends  them  to  grill  below,  but  poetic  justice  lifts  them 
into  the  light  of  perpetual  love.  Now,  my  dear  Fiorentino, 
your  creed  shocks  me,  and  obliges  me  to  tell  you  that  I  cann 
not  agree  with  it.  As  a  good  Christian,  I  have  not  the  slightest 
doubt  but  that  Don  Juan  and  Faust,  with  their  earthly  repre- 
sentatives, are  in,  or  if  not,  will  finally  go  to  Tophet. 

But  while  I  have  been  discussing  the  nature  of  the  two 
Fables,  I  have  suffered  Mozart's  wonderful  music  to  pass  me 


102  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

without  a  word.  Fortunately,  it  is  music  which  asks  us  for 
no  description,  music  which  literally  needs  no  analysis  from 
the  critic,  music  which  demands  only  a  feeling  heart  to  un- 
derstand its  marvellously  individual  character,  music  which  at 
once  seizes  upon  the  hearer's  soul  and  steeps  it  in  a  distinctive 
joy,  music  which — 

My  dear  Florentine,  I  am  forgetting  myself.  To  write  a 
critical  disquisition  upon  Mozart's  miraculous  musical  genius, 
to  you,  would  be  a  gratuitous  insolence,  only  to  be  paralleled 
by  the  individual  who  would  graciously  sit  down  to  teach 
Janin  the  theory  of  writing  French. 

Pardon  me,  my  friend,  and  permit  me  to  tell  you,  that  for 
the  moment  I  was  lost  in  one  of  those  vague  dreams  which  at 
times  will  seize  upon  all  of  us,  the  most  as  well  as  the  least 
worldly.  Believe  me,  when  I  say  that  forgetfulness  of  you 
and  myself  shall  not  again  come  over  me.  To  prove  this,  let 
me  tell  you  that  the  "  Don  Giovanni"  had  the  greatest  suc- 
cess of  any  Opera  which  has  been  brought  forward,  in  my 
time,  in  America.  This  argues,  as  you  must  admit,  well  for  the 
public  taste  in  this  portion  of  the  world,  and  promises  even  more 
for  their  future  musical  development.  Everybody  was  delighted. 
Even  a  little  mercantile  acquaintance  of  mine,  who  was  an  en- 
thusiastic admirer  of  Opera,  and  had  a  positive  standing  among 
amateurs,  as  a  man  of  recognized  judgment  in  musical  matters, 
was  literally  carried  away.  Upon  the  first  night,  when  the  Opera 
had  come  to  an  end,  he  scarcely  seemed  to  know  whether  he 
stood  upon  his  head  or  his  heels.  My  step  was  not  heard  in 
the  lobby,  ere  he  rushed  up  to  me  like  a  diminutive  madman. 
Grasping  both  my  hands  in  his,  and  shaking  them  with  a  very 
painful  fervor  to  myself,  he  there  and  then  gave  me  his  opin- 
ion about  Mozart.  It  was  delivered  by  him  in  these  terms  : 

"  My  dear  Mr.  Max  !  That  music  of  Mozart's !  A-h-h-hh ! 
Oh-h-h-h-h !  Indeed— I  nev-v-v-ver ! " 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  103 

This  was  all.  And  yet,  I  am  mistaken,  for  there  and  then 
did  he  invite  me  to  dine  with  him. 

"  Come  to  dinner,"  he  said.  "  We  will  talk  about  Mozart, 
and  you  will  find  at  my  table  the  heaviest  silver  spoons  and 
forks,  from  one  end  of  the  United  States  to  the  other.  I  assure 
you,  you  will.  Now,  pray  come." 

It  was  with  the  greatest  difficulty  I  excused  myself.  You 
ask  me,  why  ?  my  amiable  Fiorentino.  Was  I  not  a  poor 
Manager,  and  had  I  no  reason  to  be  afraid  of  that  temptation 
which  he  offered  ?" 

As  you  have  been  earlier  told  by  me,  the  Opera  of  "  Don 
Giovanni"  ran  up  to  the  last  night  of  the  season.  At  its 
close,  the  committee  of  the  subscribers  offered  to  give  me  a 
benefit  as  a  proof  of  their  approbation  of  my  management. 
In  other  words,  they  meant  that  I  should  prepare  and  outlay 
everything,  and  that  they  would  direct  it.  With  most  exem- 
plary courtesy,  I  politely  returned  them  my  thanks,  and 
declined  their  munificent  offer,  having  already  determined  to 
take  a  benefit  and  manage  it  myself.  Therefore,  on  the  last 
night  of  the  completed  season,  it  was  announced,  and  I  had 
the  satisfaction  of  seeing  the  house  crammed  from  the  top  to 
the  bottom,  not  by  the  friends  of  the  subscribers,  but  by  the 
veritable  public.  The  public  of  New  York,  Fiorentino,  are 
like  no  other  public  in  any  city  of  the  Old  World.  If  you 
knew  them  as  well  as  I  do,  you  would,  I  feel  convinced,  agree 
with  me.  Gentle  and  inexigeant  in  the  extreme,  when  they 
find  a  servant  who  treats  them  fairly,  who  exerts  every  effort 
to  please  them,  and  who  has  sufficient  talent  or  knowledge  to 
do  so,  they  become  his  personal  friend.  Mine,  they  have  now 
been  for  six  years.  You  smile,  and  ask  me  whether  it  is  on 
the  score  of  my  knowledge  or  talent  ?  Candidly,  Fiorentino, 
I  do  not  know,  but  I  am  grateful  to  them  for  their  unwaver- 
ing and  consistent  kindness. 


104  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

Shortly  afterwards,  the  artists  and  the  Dramatic  Fund  So- 
ciety presented  me  with  valuable  tokens  of  their  esteem,  and 
were  I  not  writing  to  one  whose  mouth  involuntarily  curls  at 
every  attempt  I  make  to  speak  kindly  of  myself,  I  might  say 
of  their  appreciation  for  all  that  which  had  been  done  by  me 
for  Art  upon  this  continent. 

You  ask  me — "  What  did  the  committee  of  subscribers  ?" 
Well !  They  did  their  share.  They  had  taken  me  upon 
trial,  and  they  were  tolerably  well  satisfied.  On  the  morning 
after  the  benefit,  the  venerable  Dr.  G.  S.  Pattison,  an  ex- 
cellent old  gentleman,  called  upon  me  and  presented  me  with 
a  paper  of  the  following  tenor : — 

"ASTOR  PLACE  OPERA  HOUSE,  Feb.  16,  1850. 

''  At  the  Annual  Meeting  of  the  Five  Years'  Subscribers 
to  the  Italian  Opera,  held  at  the  Astor  Place  Opera  House, 
on  the  evening  of  Saturday,  the  16th  Feb.,  1850,  the  Meeting 
was  organized  by  appointing  Thomas  E.  Davies,  Esq.,  Chair- 
man, and  Henry  A.  Coit,  Esq.,  Secretary. 

"  The  Committee  appointed  at  the  last  Annual  Meeting, 
consisting  of  Victor  de  Launay,  Robert  Emmet,  and  Gran- 
ville  S.  Pattison,  Esq's,  having  made  a  full  Report  to  the 
Meeting  of  the  affairs  of  the  Opera,  the  following  Resolutions, 
being  regularly  moved  and  seconded,  were  passed  unan- 
imously : 

"  Resolved,  That  the  Report  of  the  Committee  be  approved 
of,  and  accepted. 

"  Resolved,  That  the  thanks  of  the  Meeting  be  given  to 
the  Committee  for  the  faithful  and  successful  discharge  of 
their  duties  during  the  past  year. 

"Resolved,  That  the  members  of  the  Committee  of  last 
year  be  re-elected  to  manage  the  affairs  of  the  Opera  for  the 
ensuing  year. 


OPERA    MANAGER    IN   AMERICA.  105 

"Resolved,  That  that  portion  of  the  Annual  Report,  in 
which  the  Committee  recommend  the  re-leasing  of  the  Opera 
House  to  the  present  lessee,  Mr.  Max  Maretzek,  for  next 
year,  meets  the  approbation  of  the  Five  Years'  Subscribers. 

"  Resolved,  That  the  Five  Years'  Subscribers  to  the  Italian 
Opera  consider  it  due  to  Mr.  Max  Maretzek  to  express 
their  entire  and  unqualified  approbation  of  his  conduct  as 
Manager  of  the  Astor  Place  Opera  House. 

"Resolved,  That  the  admirable  manner  in  which  an  un- 
precedented number  of  new  Operas  have  been  performed, 
during  the  season,  no\y  drawing  to  a  close,  is  the  best  evidence 
which  could  be  furnished  of  the  high  musical  qualifications 
of  the  artists  selected  by  the  Manager. 

"  Resolved,  That  the  excellence  and  superior  execution  of 
the  Orchestra  and  Choruses,  prove  the  indefatigable  in- 
dustry, zeal,  and  ability  of  Mr.  Max  Maretzek,  as  the 
Musical  Conductor. 

"Resolved,  That  the  great  gratification  afforded  to  the 
subscribers  and  patrons  of  the  Opera,  by  the  Manager, 
demands  from  them  a  substantial  expression  of  their  ap- 
preciation of  his  praiseworthy  efforts. 

"  Resolved,  That  a  Committee  be  appointed  to  tender  to 
Mr.  Max  Maretzek  a  Complimentary  Benefit ;  and  that  the 
subscribers  and  patrons  of  the  Opera  be  solicited  to  co-operate 
with  them  in  making  it  a  profitable  one. 

"  Resolved,  That  a  copy  of  the  five  last  Resolutions,  signed 
by  the  Chairman  and  Secretary  of  this  Meeting,  be  enclosed 
to  Mr.  Max  Maretzek. 

"  Resolved,  That  the  Committee  be  authorized  and  instruct- 
ed to  take  such  steps  as  they  may  judge  most  advisable,  to 
carry  out  the  suggestions  made  as  to  securing  a  bumper 
Benefit  for  Mr.  Max  Maretzek. 

"  Resolved,  That  the  proceedings  of  this  Meeting  be  print- 
5* 


106  REVELATIONS    OF  AN 

ed,  and  a  copy  sent  to  each  of  the  Five  Years'  and  Annual 
Subscribers. 

"  The  Meeting  then  adjourned  sine  die. 

"  THOMAS  E.  DAVIES,  Chairman. 
"  HENRY  E.  COIT,  Secretary." 

In  handing  this  paper  to  me,  the  old  gentleman  said : 

"  We  had  intended  to  give  you  a  benefit,  but  you  have 
preferred  giving  it  yourself,  and  I  am  most  pleased  to  know 
that  it  has  turned  out  so  well.  We  ought  to  have  given  you 
a  more  substantial  testimonial,  but,  at  all  events,  take  this 
paper.  If  it  does  nothing  else,  it  will  give  you  credit." 

"  Credit !  That  is  the  very  thing  that  I  need  most  of  all," 
I  replied,  receiving  it  from  his  hands. 

So,  I  immediately  hurried  down  with  it  to  the  house  at 
which  my  banking  account  was  kept,  in  Wall  Street,  and 
handed  it  across  the  counter  to  the  Receiving  Teller,  with  the 
request  that  he  should  enter  it  in  my  folio,  and  give  me 
credit  for  it. 

He  looked  at  it,  turned  it  over,  (a  habit  with  banking 
clerks  that  means  nothing,)  smiled,  and  then  handed  it  back 
to  me. 

"  The  signatures  are  doubtless  good  enough,  but  the  word- 
ing, my  dear  Mr.  Maretzek,  is  not  in  the  ordinary  business 
style." 

"  Then,  you  won't  give  me  credit  for  it?" 

"  We  can't,  my  good  sir.  Have  you  any  other  commands 
for  us?" 

I  shook  my  head,  and  he  turned  away  to  a  gentleman  who 
was  standing  at  my  elbow. 

Several  other  institutions  were  tried  by  me  with  a  precisely 
similar  result.  None  of  them  would  take  this  paper  and  give 
me  any  credit.  It  was,  therefore,  stored  away  in  a  corner  of 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          107 

my  iron  safe,  (I  have  one,  Fiorentino,  although  there  is  but 
little  in  it,)  like  an  over-issue  of  the  New  Haven  Railroad 
Stock,  with  a  dim  and  vague  expectation  that  something 
might  possibly,  although  not  probably,  turn  up  from  it. 

My  next  care  was  to  look  over  the  accounts  of  my  season's 
management.  Its  balance-sheet,  when  everything  had  been 
carefully  wound  up,  stood  thus  : 

DR.  CR. 


My  debts  during  man- 
agement,   $3,600 


Property  on  hand  in 

music,  dresses,  &c.,  $6,000 


The  properties — it  being  observed,  having  been  used 
already — would  not  have  sold  at  auction  better  than  Mr.  Fry's 
scenery  had  done. 

What  could  I  do,  my  good  friend,  but  make  up  my  mind 
to  manage  another  season?  So,  I  remained  silent,  and  kept 
up  appearances. 

This,  Fiorentino,  is  the  faithful  and  correct  history,  with 
the  actual  result  of  the  first  successful  season  of  operatic 
management,  which  had  occurred  for  twenty  five  years  in 
New  York 

Believe  me,  dear  friend,  most  faithfully  yours, 

M.  M. 


THIR  D    LETTER. 

TO    L.    LABLACHE,    LONDON. 

Jenny  Lind — P.  T.  Bamum — Teresa  Parodi — Humbug,  Merit,  Curi- 
osity, Enthusiasm — Jenny  Lind's  Concert  Tour,  and  Barnum's 
Autobiograpy. 


REVELATIONS    OF   AN    OPERA    MANAGER,  ETC.         Ill 


LETTER  TIL 

TO   LUIGI  LABLACHE. 

NEW  YORK,  August  28^,  1855. 
LABLACHE  ! 

Prceclarum  et  venerdbile  nomen  !  for  such  it  certainly  is 
in  the  annals  of  contemporary  Music,  to  you  I  address  my 
present  letter.  But  a  wide  change  has  come  across  me  and 
my  intentions,  since  I  penned  the  first  of  this  series.  No 
sooner  was  it  known,  illustrious  basso  profondo,  that  I  had 
commenced  writing  an  account  of  my  various  Operatic  Expe- 
riences, than  I  have  literally  been  besieged  by  publishers. 
My  friends  have  enjoined  publication  upon  me.  Fair  dames 
and  blushing  damsels  have  appealed  to  me,  to  know  when 
my  volume  would  come  before  them. 

It  was  not  of  the  slightest  use  to  tell  them,  that  the  inten- 
tion of  publication  had  never  entered  my  brain.  Unhesi- 
tatingly they  laughed,  and  said  I  was  one  of  the  most  prudent 
of  authors. 

"  But  I  am  no  author !" 

"  Very  true.  We  know  that,"  was  the  answer.  "  But  you 
will  soon  be  one." 

"How  can  I  write  pure  English?" 

"  You  can  talk  it  well  enough,  our  good  Mr.  Maretzek.  Be- 


112  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

sides,  we  do  not  want '  pure  English.'  We  only  want  to  hear 
your  '  Confessions.' " 

What  was  to  be  done?  With  the  publishers  I  remon- 
strated, but  in  vain.  They  were  determined  to  employ  my 
pen.  Offers  were  made  to  provide  me  with  a  literary  cicerone, 
to  introduce  my  penmanship  to  the  public,  and  a  gentle  force 
was  employed  upon  me  to  compel  my  decision.  Then  it  was 
that  I  rushed  from  the  world,  secluded  myself  in  Staten 
Island  with  an  English  Grammar,  an  English  Dictionary,  and 
an  English  friend,  who  has  expatriated  himself  to  become  a 
citizen  of  this  free  and  "  enlightened  Republic,"  and  made  up 
my  mind,  with  the  assistance  of  these  three  indispensable  ne- 
cessaries to  my  task,  to  attempt  its  completion. 

It  is  under  these  circumstances  that  you  will  receive  this 
letter,  no  sooner  than  the  rest  of  the  public.  If  you  reply 
to  it,  Lablache,  I  shall  be  most  happy  to  hear  from  you. 
Should  you  not  do  so,  I  shall  console  myself  with  the  idea 
that  my  trouble  is  more  than  repaid,  by  the  kindly  smiles  of 
those  fair  ones,  to  gratify  whose  charmingly  feminine  curiosity 
I  have  taken  up  the  pen. 

You  must  certainly  remember  that  memorable  evening, 
when  the  Swedish  Nightingale  first  struck  a  note  before  a 
London  audience. 

It  was  in  the  spring  of  1847,  and  all  London,  which  you 
will  agree  with  me  is  a  tolerably  large  city,  was  excited  to 
the  highest  pitch  of  curiosity  touching  the  result  of  her  debut. 
This  was  not,  that  her  artistic  reputation  was  then  so  great  as 
it  afterwards  became.  On  the  result  of  that  evening,  how- 
ever, depended  a  musical  question  which  was  shaking  the 
operatic  world  of  London  to  its  centre.  This  question  was 
two-fold.  First,  whether  Grisi  should  abdicate  or  divide  the 
throne  which  she  had  occupied  for  some  fifteen  years  in  that 
capital,  as  the  acknowledged  Queen  of  the  Lyric  Drama. 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  113 

While,  secondly,  it  was  to  be  decided  whether  the  recognized 
impressario  of  Her  Majesty's  Theatre  in  the  Haymarket, 
Luiuley,  was  to  secure  the  rank  so  long  indisputably  held  by 
it,  or  if  the  insurgent  vocal  forces  under  the  command  of 
Delafield,  the  son  of  the  great  brewer,  were  to  do  battle  suc- 
cessfully with  him  on  behalf  of  Italian  Opera  newly  domi- 
ciled in  Covent  Garden.  It  must  be  confessed,  Lablache, 
that  it  was  a  very  pretty  quarrel  as  it  then  stood. 

On  the  one  side  were  the  musical  Tories  of  Operadom,  the 
friends  of  Giulia  Grisi,  Mario,  then  in  his  very  prime,  the 
almost  worn-out  Persiani,  and  Tamburini,  no  more  than  the 
memory  of  that  which  he  had  been. 

On  the  other  side  were  the  Radical  Reformers  and  "Whigs 
of  Music,  who  had  found  a  Cobden  in  Jenny  Lind,  while 
they  patted  you  upon  the  back,  as  a  proof  that  their  change 
was  not  intended  to  be  destructive. 

Those  contributed  as  much  by  their  opposition  to  raise  the 
public  excitement,  as  these  did  by  their  puffing,  diplomatizing, 
biography-writing,  and  eulogizing. 

Two  hours  before  the  commencement  of  the  Opera  on  that 
evening,  Her  Majesty's  Theatre  was  crowded.  Every  class 
of  society,  from  crowned  and  coroneted  heads  to  the  shop- 
keeper, on  whom  their  existence  was  built  up,  was  repre- 
sented in  that  audience.  In  the  first  tier  of  boxes,  on  the 
right  from  the  stage,  the  second  box  was  occupied  by  Vic- 
toria and  the  Prince-Consort.  In  that  next  her,  sat  the  old 
Duke  of  Cambridge,  writh  his  bald  head  glistening  in  the 
shining  gas-light.  Beside  him  was  the  Queen-Dowager. 
But  I  implore  the  pardon  of  these  distinguished  personages. 
They  were  not  in  the  house  two  hours  before  the  commence- 
ment of  the  Opera.  Other  boxes  were  occupied  by  the 
"  Iron "  Duke,  as  he  was  called,  and  his  charming  daughter, 
the  Marchioness  of  Douro,  since  his  death  the  Duchess  of 


114  t  REVELATIONS    OP    AN 

Wellington;  the  kindly-hearted  Duke  of  Devonshire,  and 
the  leading  members  of  the  British  aristocracy,  with  the 
representatives  of  foreign  courts,  until  the  last  box  to  the 
left  of  the  stage.  In  this,  almost  exactly  opposite  the  Queen, 
sat  a  thin,  small,  pale-green  gentleman,  with  a  magnificent 
pair  of  huge  moustaches.  He  was  almost  looked  upon  as 
an  intruder  in  that  range  of  royalty  and  aristocracy.  This 
was  no  other  than  the  fugitive  from  the  Castle  of  Ham,  the 
Prince  Louis  Napoleon,  at  the  present  moment  Napoleon  III., 
and  one  of,  if  not  perhaps  the  most  powerful  of  the  Euro- 
pean Sovereigns.  It  has  even  been  hinted  to  me,  that  this 
box  was  a  token  of  courtesy  from  Mr.  Lumley  to  the  then 
little-distinguished  stranger,  which  his  means  did  not  allow 
him  to  pay  for.  In  the  second  tier  sat  many  of  the  noblesse 
and  leading  members  of  the  fashionable  world,  with  a  fair 
sprinkling  of  the  moneyed  autocracy  of  London.  In  the  third 
and  fourth,  were  the  usual  varieties  of  the  wealthy  Plebs, 
while  in  the  pit-tier  a  few  of  the  editors  of  the  leading 
journals  might  be  seen,  mingled  with  the  bachelor  scions  of 
the  nobility,  and  not  a  few  of  their  cheres  amies,  whose  flash- 
ing jewelry,  beauty,  and  bare  white  arms,  might  well  have 
shamed  those  of  the  more  respectable,  though,  in  many  cases, 
not  a  whit  purer  portion  of  the  audience. 

The  Orchestra-stalls  were  filled  by  a  mixture  of  the  musical 
bachelordom  of  the  aristocracy  and  wealth  of  England,  while 
the  pit  was  tenanted  by  people  of  all  and  every  class.  Half 
a  guinea,  a  black  dress-coat,  and  white  cravat,  being  the  ne- 
cessary passports  to  this  location. 

You,  yourself,  venerable  Lablache — such  you  are  now, 
although  you  scarcely  were  then — were  placed  in  a  prosce- 
nium-box on  the  second  tier,  in  such  a  position  that  you 
could  be  seen  by,  at  least,  two-thirds  of  the  audience.  Of 
the  fact,  whether  this  was  purely  accidental,  or  had  been 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          115 

so  arranged  by  Mr.  Lumley,  I  am  obliged  to  confess  myself 
ignorant.  The  truth  is,  that  I  never  remember  questioning 
him  upon  the  subject.  It  must,  however,  be  owned,  between 
ourselves,  Lablache,  that  it  was  a  most  admirable  arrange- 
ment, and  demands  our  approbation  on  account  of  its  appa- 
rent forethought. 

The  Opera  of  the  evening  was  "  Roberto  il  Diavolo."  Jenny 
Lind,  the  new  debutante  in  London,  was  to  appear  in  the  part 
of  Alice,  while  the  remainder  of  the  principal  parts  were  sup- 
ported by  Castellan,  Fraschini,  Gardoni  and  Staudigl. 

Perhaps,  the  three  Italians  were  not  altogether  fitted  to  cope 
with  the  comparative  mysteries  of  German  music,  while  the 
one  German  was  not  too  well  versed  in  the  amenities  of  the 
Italian  language.  However,  who  in  the  whole  audience  cared 
two  straws  for  this?  The  only  object  of  popular  attention 
upon  this  evening,  was  the  Swedish  candidate  for  an  Operatic 
immortality. 

When  she  appeared,  I  was  standing  in  the  first  wing  to  the 
left  of  the  stage,  and  never  before  in  Germany,  or  afterwards 
in  England  and  America,  have  I  heard  her  sing  so  exquisitely 
as  she  did  in  the  delivery  of  her  first  Romanza. 

Applause  of  course  marked  the  pauses  of  the  vocalist,  but 
it  was  somewhat  sparse  and  scattered.  The  public  was  evi- 
dently pleased,  but,  as  evidently  had  it  determined  to  judge 
her  carefully,  before  it  placed  her  on  a  par,  in  its  estimation, 
with  its  long-established  favorite,  Grisi.  In  addition  to  this, 
it  was  not  familiarly  acquainted  with  the  music  of  Meyerbeer, 
while  the  style  of  the  Swedish  Nightingale,  as  she  was  subse- 
quently named,  was  essentially  new.  On  these  accounts,  the 
public  seemed  determined  to  hold  back  in  its  decision  upon 
her  merits.  Like  a  cautious  judge,  it  wished  not  to  compro- 
mise its  opinion  too  early.  Knowing  how  much  is  dependent 
upon  the  first  impression  made  upon  it  by  an  entirely  new 


116  REVELATIONS  OF    AN 

artist,  I  frankly  own  to  a  feeling  of  some  regret,  that  her  first 
appearance  in  aristocratic  London  should  have  been  made  in 
an  Opera  which  could  allow  the  public  no  means  of  compari- 
son. Her  vocal  inches  could  not  be  computed  at  the  side  of 
Persiani,  or  rated  against  the  stature  of  Grisi.  At  this  time, 
neither  of  them  knew  the  music  of  Meyerbeer.  Again,  had 
she  come  out  in  a  well-known  work,  with  yon,  my  dear  La- 
blache,  at  her  side,  success,  as  I  reflected,  would  not  so  long 
have  been  dubious.  You  would  most  infallibly  have  put  the 
public  into  a  pleasant  humor.  It  would  have  forgotten  its 
judgment,  and  been  alone  disposed  to  admiration.  These  re- 
flections were  suddenly  dispersed  by  a  long  and  most  beautiful 
shake  from  the  Swedish  vocalist,  in  the  cadenza  of  the  Ro- 
mance. The  next  note  would  have  been  its  concluding  one, 
but  this  she  never  reached  audibly.  Scarcely  had  the  shake 
terminated,  than  one  madly  enthusiastic,  roaring,  thirty-six- 
pounder-like  "  Brava-ah-ah"  interrupted  her. 

This  was  immediately  followed  by  a  prolonged  and  deafen- 
ing storm_of  applause,  which  was  mingled  with  laughter  and 
outcries. 

"  That  was  Lablache.     Did  you  hear  him  ?" 

"  Yes !  it  was  his  voice." 

"  Look  at  him.     There  he  is  in  the  proscenium-box." 

The  audience  had  recognized  your  potent  lungs,  my  white- 
haired  friend,  and,  in  a  moment,  the  spell  was  broken.  Criti- 
cal judge  as  it  was,  it  had  laughed,  not  at  her,  although  upon 
her  account.  It  had  laughed  at  you. 

Your  "  Brava"  fell  like  a  bomb-shell  into  the  camp  of  the 
coalition  of  Covent  Garden.  It  ruined  Persiani,  Delafield, 
Hasland  and  Webster.  Your  "  Brava"  made  the  fortune  of 
Jenny  Lind,  as  well  as  that  of  Lumley  (who  unfortunately 
could  not  keep  it)  and  of  Barnum.  Great  as  a  vocal  artist 
as  you  are,  never  before  had  your  vigorous  lungs  produced 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  117 

such  a  startling  effect  as  they  did  upon  that  evening.  It 
settled  the  standing  of  Jenny  Lind  as  a  vocalist  in  public 
estimation,  while  it  saved  Lumley  from  the  bankruptcy  that 
threatened  him,  and  averted  from  Her  Majesty's  Theatre  the 
immediate  ruin  which  was  staring  it  in  the  face. 

At  all  events,  whether  you  were  really  carried  away  by 
Jenny's  delicious  singing,  or  whether  your  thundering  "  Brava" 
was  a  preconcerted  explosion,  it  must  candidly  be  admitted 
that  the  spoiled  child  of  fortune  owes  a  great  deal  to  it. 

The  look  of  grotesque  astonishment  which  you  summon 
into  your  face,  my  large  friend,  for  most  certainly  if  you  have 
continued  on  the  increase,  you  must  be  indubitably  large  at 
the  present  moment,  is  altogether  useless.  It  is  in  vain  that, 
with  a  merry  twinkle  in  your  gray  eye  in  spite  of  your  as- 
tonishment, you  ask  me  wherefore  I  call  her  "  the  spoiled 
child  of  fortune  ?"  Fruitlessly,  you  tell  me  that  she  had  to 
struggle  with  unheard-of  difficulties  in  her  early  years,  and 
that  her  first  singing-master  in  Stockholm  advised  her  to 
abandon  a  profession  for  which  she  had  not  that  most  neces-  ' 
sary  of  materials — voice.  You  may,  if  you  so  will  it,  remind 
me  that  by  her  indomitable  energy  and  continuous  studies, 
she  at  length  found  that  voice  which  she  felt  must  be  some- 
where hidden  within  her  chest ;  but,  in  spite  of  this,  that  she 
was  obliged  to  appear  and  sing  in  small  and  secondary  parts, 
to  secure  a  living ;  and  then,  when  after  long  and  wearisome 
struggles  she  had  at  length  arrived  in  Paris,  through  the  in- 
trigues of  Madame  Stolz  (the  Egeria  of  the  managerial  Numa, 
Leon  Fillet)  that  even  a  trial  was  refused  her. 

All  this,  my  respected  friend,  may;  or  may  not  be  true,  in 
a  purely  literary  point  of  view.  This  I  shall  not,  for  a  mo- 
ment, take  upon  myself  to  determine. 

But  every  artist,  my  good  Lablache,  has  had,  as  you  can 
judge  from  your  own  personal  experience,  his  or  her  time  of 


118  KEVELATIONS    OF   AN 

difficulties,  and  his  or  her  period  of  good  fortune.  When 
Jenny's  moment  of  chance  came,  she  had  fortune  enough  for 
any  half  dozen  of  vocalists.  When  it  broke  upon  her,  it  was 
with  no  modest  and  unpretendingly  shadowy  twilight.  No 
sooner  had  it  done  so,  than  one  of  the  greatest  composers  of  the 
age  (I  allude  to  Meyerbeer)  took  her  by  the  hand,  and 
pushed  her  before  the  world  as  one  of  the  chosen  exponents 
of  his  own  genius.  Not  only  did  he  recognize  her  talent,  but 
he  wrote  for  the  almost  unknown  aspirant  for  vocal  distinc- 
tion, his  Opera  of  "  Vielka,"  now  re-baptized  by  him  as 
"  L'Etoile  du  Nord." 

When,  subsequently  to  this,  she  had  to  make  her  German 
reputation  an  European  one,  she  found  one  of  the  greatest 
impressarios  of  the  period,  whose  only  chance  of  saving  him- 
self from  ruin,  lay  in  her  engagement.  To  struggle  against 
the  opposition  of  the  insurgent  Italians  at  Covent  Garden, 
Benjamin  Lumley  was  obliged  to  throw  his  money,  his  credit, 
his  influence,  and  his  undoubted  talent  for  management  into 
the  balance,  in  her  favor.  Nay !  when  she  decided  on  quit- 
ting the  stage,  yet  still  hankered  after  the  golden  price  her 
notes  had  previously  brought  her,  she  had  the  luck  to  discover 
one  of  the  greatest  "  humbugs"  of  the  day,  as  he  has  himself 
avowed  with  a  candor  of  the  most  ingenuous  fashion,  who, 
finding  himself  for  the  moment  rather  short  of  work,  felt 
somewhat  inclined  to  dabble  in  Music,  with  the  innocently 
speculative  view  of  making  money.  This  individual  was,  it 
it  is  needless  for  me  to  say,  the  singularly  simple-hearted  and 
guileless  P.  T.  Barnum. 

In  fact,  scarcely  had  Jenny  Lind  undertaken  her  arduous 
peregrinations  in  search  of  the  toison  doree  of  artistic  reputa- 
tion, than  a  Mentor  presented  himself  to  her  in  the  person  of 
Giacomo  Meyerbeer. 

When  she  had  succeeded  in  her  first  toil,  and  had  shred  a 


OPERA   MANAGER    IN   AMERICA.  119 

fair  portion  of  it  with  his  assistance,  she  became  more  ambi- 
tious. Wishing  to  seize  on  the  diadem  of  the  then  reigning 
Queen  of  Song,  a  Talleyrand  stood  at  her  elbow.  This  was 
Benjamin  Lumley. 

Then  having  gained  both  reputation  and  position,  her  wish 
was  simply  to  pull  the  pocket-strings  of  the  world.  The 
Robert  Macaire  offered  himself  in  the  form  of  Phineas 
Barnum. 

Under  the  protecting  tutelage  of  Meyerbeer,  she  was  as 
the  unconscious  nightingale  who  sings  for  the  mere  sake  of 
singing.  When  in  the  guardianship  of  Lumley,  she  became 
the  mere  peacock  of  vocalism,  airing  her  many-colored  notes 
in  the  mid-day  sun,  for  the  purpose  of  deafening  us  to  the 
song  of  others.  And  at  last,  with  Barnum,  she  displayed 
herself  as  the  Syren  whose  delicate  tones  warbled  the  Ameri- 
can gold-finches  into  her  outstretched  fingers. 

Now  with  Meyerbeer  and  Lumley  you  are  well  acquainted. 
Of  the  amiable  Barnum,  my  dear  Lablache,  I  should  suppose 
that  you  know  next  to  nothing,  unless  indeed  your  literary 
studies  have  induced  you  to  r\^ad  a  volume  which,  with  a  sub- 
lime and  happy  audacity,  he  has  named  his  Autobiography. 
In  this  curious  work,  he  candidly  owns  that  he  first  gave  him- 
self the  name  of  the  "  Prince  of  Humbugs."  Now  "  yvuQi 
tfsauTov "  is  a  maxim,  and  a  very  capital  one,  first  laid  down 
by  Socrates,  or  Plato,  or  some  other  of  the  Greek  philoso- 
phers ;  and  nobody  who  knows  or  has  known  Barnum,  will 
deny  that  he  has  shown  a  strange  amount  of  self-appreciation, 
although  a  scanty  amount  of  republicanism,  in  awarding  him- 
self this  title. 

But — "What  is  humbug?"  you  ask, 

Exhibiting  a  fly  through  a  microscope  and  passing  it  off  as 
an  elephant  to  one  who  pays,  would,  my  dear  Lablache,  be  a 
very  decided  humbug. 


120  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

"Per  Bacco!"  you  exclaim,  "but  such  a  proceeding  would 
come,  in  Europe,  under  the  head  of  obtaining  money  by  false 
pretences." 

So  it  would  here,  my  venerated  friend,  if  it,  or  something 
similar  to  it,  took  place  in  the  commercial  wprld.  In  the 
world  of  amusement,  it  is  altogether  different. 

Thus,  Barnum  exhibited  an  aged  negress  as  the  nurse  of 
George  Washington,  and  proved  the  truth  of  this  assertion  by 
documents.  It  was  discovered  that  the  assertion  was  false. 
In  his  Autobiography,  he  serenely  admits  that  the  affair  might 
be  a  hoax,  but  states  that  he  purchased  woman  and  docu- 
ments from  a  Mr.  Lindsay.  Is  it  at  all  probable  that  the 
"  Prince  of  Humbugs  "  could  have  been  "  humbugged  "  by  a 
Lindsay  ? 

In  a  similar  way  he  made  money  from  a  real  mermaid, 
manufactured  from  a  monkey  and  a  fish-tail;  displayed  a 
black  spotted  with  white,  and  a  woolly  horse,  with  many 
other  curiosities  of  a  similar  kind. 

"  And  do  the  people  of  America  patronize  him  ? "  you  in- 
quire of  me,  with  a  look  of  sublime  wonder  mantling  over 
your  face. 

Of  course  they  do.  At  first,  they  flocked  to  his  exhibitions 
in  scores,  because  they  believed  all  that  he  announced.  Now, 
they  rush  there,  or  would  rush  to  anything  he  introduced,  in 
hundreds,  simply  to  ascertain  in  what  manner  he  is  about  to 
"humbug"  them  this  time. 

Should  he  once  attempt  not  to  "humbug"  them,  and  dare 
to  represent  what  he  exhibits  as  it  really  is,  he  would  be  a 
lost  man,  or  rather  should  I  say,  a  lost  manager.  His  pres- 
tige would  be  gone  forever,  for  his  reputation  as  the  "  Prince 
of  Humbugs  "  would  be  forfeited. 

Yet  the  man  is  a  genius.  With  his  extraordinary  talent 
for  combination,  had  he  received  a  Better  education,  and  been 


OPERA  MANAGER    IN   AMERICA.  121 

thrown  by  those  chances,  which  are  Destiny,  into  a  higher 
sphere  of  action,  he  would  have  made  a  first-rate  minister  of 
finance,  and  have  retired  a  "  millionaire,"  as  he  is  now,  ac- 
cording to  his  own  accounts.  As  it  is,  he  is  contented,  pro- 
vided you  will  only  coincide  in  the  justice  of  the  title  he  has 
bestowed  upon  himself.  For  one,  let  me  confess  that  I  do, 
and  very  fully. 

Now,  when  Barnum  engaged  Jenny  Lind,  he  had  very 
decidedly  but  a  scanty  faith  in  the  taste  and  discrimination  of 
the  American  Public.  In  the  power  of  music  over  it,  he  had 
next  to  none.  His  creed  was  "  humbug,"  and,  consequently, 
the  real  merit  of  Jenny  was  no  guarantee  with  him  for  her 
success.  Her  visit  to  this  country  might  have  exercised  the 
most  salutary  influence  upon  the  taste  and  development  of 
Art  in  the  New  World.  Blind  by  nature  to  every  considera- 
tion of  this  character,  he  took  the  knowledge  of  a  rail-road 
conductor*  as  his  best  authority  in  musical  matters,  and  came 
to  the  conclusion  that,  as  an  artist,  the  fair  Swede  would  be 
at  the  best  a  very  uncertain  speculation.  In  consequence  of 
this,  he  determined  upon  working  her  as  a  curiosity,  as  he  had 
done  with  the  Feejee  Mermaid,  and  other  of  his  pseudo-ir- 
regularities of  nature.  It  was  purely  a  matter  of  the  most 
perfect  indifference  to  him,  whether  she  produced  any  enthu- 
siasm as  a  songstress,  provided  she  excited  curiosity,  as  angel, 
woman,  or  demon.  No  sooner,  therefore,  had  he  ascertained 
the  extent  of  knowledge  respecting  her  upon  the  part  of  a 
railway-conductor,  than  he  went  to  work  at  the  enlightenment 
of  the  people. 

Reputation  was  manufactured  for  her,  by  wholesale.  It 
was  not  merely  made  by  the  inch,  but  was  prepared  by  the 
cart-load. 

*  See  page  303  of  his  Autobiography. 
6 


122  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

Letters  from  England  were  written  in  New  York  anterior 
to  the  arrival  of  each  steamer,  and  by  the  highly  moral 
Phineas  were  passed  into  the  columns  of  the  newspapers  as 
genuine  epistles  from  the  other  side  of  the  Atlantic.  These 
letters  were  received  and  published  by  the  New  York  press, 
with  a  bo?ihommie  and  readiness  to  oblige  which  I  have  never 
seen  manifested  by  any  other  press  in  the  world. 

After  six  months  continuously  employed  in  this  manner, 
Barnum  had  done  what  he  counted  upon  doing.  The  letters 
had  been  copied  in  every  portion  of  the  country.  Public 
curiosity  had  been  so  industriously  stirred  up  by  him,  that 
out  of  every  five  persons  one  would  have  been  glad  to  hear, 
but  four  were  restlessly  desirous  to  see  her.  In  consequence 
of  this,  the  candid  Phineas,  my  good  friend,  at  a  serenade 
given  to  Jenny  in  Philadelphia,  presented  her  chambermaid 
on  the  balcony  of  the  hotel  to  the  crowd  as  the  genuine 
article ;  while  at  church  in  Baltimore,  those  who  were  present, 
were  enraptured  with  the  singing  of  Barnum's  daughter,  in 
the  firm  conviction  that  she  was  the  bonaf.de  novelty  which 
he  had  fathered  upon  the  hour.  Everywhere,  the  curiosity 
to  see  her  was  stronger  than  the  enthusiasm  after  hearing 
her,  and  great  as  her  merit  most  unquestionably  was,  the 
"humbug"  of  her  manager  was  by  far  the  most  powerful 
attraction  to  her  concerts. 

It  was  in  September,  1850,  that  Jenny  Lind  arrived  here. 
Now,  my  good  Lablache,  the  Opera  season  was  to  begin  about 
the  middle  of  October.  It  was  my  second  season. 

Figure  to  yourself  the  position  of  a  luckless  impressario 
with  a  company  of  Truffis  and  Beneventanos  upon  his  hands, 
and  the  lease  of  the  Astor  Place  Opera  House  upon  his 
shoulders,  with  Jenny  Lind  and  Barnum,  real  genius  and 
undoubted  "humbug,"  in  a  strange  copartnership,  staring 
ominously  in  his  face.  Of  how  quickly  and  decidedly  the 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  123 

Swede  had  eclipsed  Grisi,  Viardot- Garcia,  Persiani,  and 
Alboni,  in  London,  I  had  been  a  witness.  What  could  I  ex- 
pect to  do  with  my  second-rate  artists  ?  But  that  my  hands 
were  tied  by  my  arrangements,  and  that  I  had  not,  as  I  must 
honestly  own,  the  means  to  do  anything  else,  I  will  confess 
that  I  should  have  been  glad  enough  to  give  up  the  whole 
concern.  However,  there  was  one  decided  consolation.  This 
was,  that  I  had  nothing  to  lose  except  my  theatrical  properties. 

It  was,  however,  necessary  to  do  something.  My  old 
artists  were  impossible  cards,  for  me  to  attempt  playing  in 
Barnum's  manner.  They  were,  alas !  too  well  known. 

At  the  same  time,  it  appeared  almost  impossible  to  induce 
a  first-class  reputation  to  come  to  America,  at  the  same  period 
as  Jenny  Lind.  Necessity,  however,  urged  me  to  try,  and  if 
successful,  to  enter  upon  the  contest  with  the  "Prince  of 
Humbugs,"  using  his  own  weapons. 

My  choice  fell  upon  the  Signora  Teresa  Parodi. 

She  was  an  artist  of  sufficient  talent  to  realize  the  expecta- 
tions which  I  might  raise  upon  her  behalf.  I  had  heard  her 
at  Her  Majesty's  Theatre,  in  London,  as  Norma,  Lucrezia 
Borgia,  and  Donna  Anna.  I  knew  her  to  have  been  Pasta's 
favorite  pupil,  and  had  heard  you,  my  dear  Lablache,  express 
a  favorable  opinion  of  her  undoubted  merits.  As  soon, 
therefore,  as  my  choice  was  fixed,  I  wrote  to  my  old  friend 
and  employer,  Lumley,  and  to  the  energetic  and  busy  Madame 
Puzzi,  in  London.  I  told  them  my  situation,  frankly, 
and  asked  material  aid  from  the  former,  in  the  person  of 
Teresa  Parodi. 

By  return  of  mail,  I  received  the  intelligence  that  upon 
receipt  of  a  bonus  of  20,000  francs,  Mr.  Lumley  would  be 
ready  to  transfer  his  engagement  with  Parodi  into  my  hands. 

The  money  was  raised,  by  my  transferring  the  first  receipts 


124  REVELATIONS    OF  AN 

of  the  Opera  House  until  full  payment,  and  sent  over  the 
water  to  him. 

Then,  for  the  first,  and  I  am  proud  to  say,  the  only  time,  I 
went  to  work  in  the  same  manner  I  had  seen  practised  by 
Barnum.  Foreign  letters,  puffs,  portraits,  biographies,  were 
manufactured  under  my  supervision,  and  distributed  by 
means  of  the  journals  and  the  music  stores  throughout  New 
York.  All  was  of  no  use.  Public  attention  was  absorbed 
by  Jenny  Lind.  Whatever  I  did,  was  against  the  pyramidal 
puffing  of  Barnum.  It  was  no  more  than  the  murmuring  of 
a  garden  streamlet  as  compared  with  the  roar  and  thunder  of 
Niagara.  In  my  distress,  I  had,  however,  remarked  that  the 
great  showman's  gigantic  system  of  eulogy  had,  by  no  means, 
any  particular  rapport  with  Jenny's  qualities  as  an  artist. 
He  exaggerated  her  virtues  a  la  Munchausen :  he  proclaimed 
her  a  ventriloquist,  romanced  about  Victoria's  adoration  of 
her  excellencies,  and  fabricated  charities  by  the  bushel-full. 
Now,  as  one  of  our  German  proverbs  says — "  when  among 
wolves,  it  is  very  necessary  to  yell  as  they  do."  It  is  true, 
no  one  had  vouched  to  me  for  its  having  saved  him  from 
their  jaws,  yet,  in  this  instance,  I  determined  upon  obeying 
its  injunctions  to  the  letter. 

One  morning,  therefore*!  dispatched  a  confidential  friend 
to  the  office  of  one  of  the  morning  newspapers,  and  the  fol- 
lowing dialogue  took  place  between  him  and  one  of  the 
editors,  with  whom  he  was  acquainted. 

"  Poor  Maretzek  ! "  said  my  friend,  with  a  woeful  shake  of 
the  head. 

«  Why !     What  is  the  matter  ?  " 

"  Well !  I  suppose  "I  ought  not  to  tell  you,"  he  answered, 
looking  as  lugubrious  as  a  man  who  is  hired  to  weep  at  a 
funeral.  "  But  he  is  ruined." 

«Eh!     What?" 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          125 

"  This  season  will  finish  him." 

"  How  is  that  possible  ?  Everybody  says  Parodi  is  very 
great." 

"  Yes.     Parodi  would  carry  everything  before  her." 

"  What  is  the  matter,  then  ?" 

"  She  need  not  be  afraid  even  of  Jenny  Lind." 

"Explain  yourself.  What  is  it  that  has  happened,  my 
deal- sir?" 

"  If  I  do,  you  must  promise  me  the  most  implicit  secresy." 

"  Most  assuredly,  I  do." 

"  Poor  Max  would  scarcely  outlive  it,  if  it  were  known." 

"  Well,  I  never  will  mention  it." 

"  Under  your  pledge  of  the  most  sacred  secresy  " — 

"Certainly!" 

"  I  think  I  may  tell  you." 

"  Pray,  continue." 

"  The  truth  is,  that  the  old  Duke  of  Devonshire  has  long 
been  in  love  with  her." 

«  The  deuce  he  has  !" 

"  And  when  he  heard  that  she  was  to  visit  New  York,  he 
made  up  his  mind,  rushed  to  her  feet,  and  offered  her  his  for- 
tune and  coronet." 

"  You  don 't  really  say  so  ?" 

"  But  the  worst  of  it  is,  that  such  a  chance  for  the  esta- 
blishment of  a  vocalist  does  not  occur  every  day — that  is  to 
say,  her  establishment  in  life  as  a  married  woman  of  high 
rank." 

"  I  should  think  not,  indeed.    The  Duchess  of  Devonshire  !" 

"  Therefore,  she  has  consented  to  marry  him." 

"  And  this  is  true  ?" 

"  It  is  certain.  The  letter  came  by  the  last  steamer.  But, 
for  Heaven's  sake,  do  not  say  a  word  about  it.  Remember 


126  BEVEL ATIONS    OP   AN 

poor  Max  Maretzek  with  the  Astor  Place  and  a  large  com- 
pany on  hand.  He  is  decidedly  ruined." 

"  Really,  it  is  provoking  !" 

"Is  it  not?" 

"Most  undoubtedly!" 

"  Mind  !     You  have  promised  me  to  be  strictly  silent." 

"  As  the  grave." 

Having  received  this  promise,  Lablache,  my  friend  then 
quitted  the  office  of  the  daily  journal  in  question,  impressed 
with  the  serenest  of  possible  convictions  that  the  luckless 
editor  had  swallowed  his  bait,  hook  and  all. 

And  so  he  had.  Anxious  to  have  the  first-  <&  this  pecu- 
liarly piquant  piece  of  intelligence,  he  suffered  his  promise 
of  the  most  implicit  secresy  to  slip  entirely  from  his  memory. 
Next  morning,  the  whole  story  appeared,  with  additional  em- 
broidery, in  his  journal.  Upon  the  following  day,  it  was  re- 
peated by  every  daily  paper  in  New  York.  In  something 
less  than  three  weeks,  it  had  found  its  way  into  almost  every 
newspaper  from  Maine  to  Texas,  and  in  a  fortnight  more,  had 
completed  its  travels  by  one  huge  stride  from  New  York  to 
San  Francisco. 

Biographies,  portraits,  and  anecdotes  about  her,  which  had 
dropped  still-born  from  the  press,  were  now  republished, 
admired,  and  listened  to. 

Some  of  the  country  editors  even  went  so  far  as  to  adopt 
Barnum's  plan,  and  described  the  very  trousseau  with  which 
the  Duke  of  Devonshire  had  presented  her,  in  a  foreign 
correspondence  of  decidedly  home-manufacture.  A  few  of 
them  even  published  verbatim  copies  of  the  assumed  con- 
tract of  marriage.  Numberless  applications  were  received 
by  me  from  musical  agents,  who  offered  to  arrange  my  diffi- 
culties with  the  Duke  upon  amicable  terms.  Letters  from 
lawyers  came  into  my  hands,  which  stated  their  writers* 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  127 

readiness  to  start  for  Europe  and  commence  a  process  against 
the  new  Duchess.  These  asked  only  for  a  share  of  those 
damages  which  they  felt  certain  of  obtaining. 

My  part  was  very  clearly  marked  out  for  me,  my  venerable 
friend,  and  it  is  needless  to  say  that  I  stuck  to  it.  This  was 
to  answer  not  a  single  letter,  and  to  correct  no  newspaper.  So 
I  quietly  opened  my  subscription  list,  and  shortly  afterwards 
commenced  the  season,  without  the  name  of  one  of  the 
artists  who  formed  my  company  having  been  previously 
announced. 

As  may  be  reasonably  supposed  by  you,  my  subscription 
list  was  thin,  nor  were  my  houses  much  better.  But  after 
some  two  weeks  more,  the  supposed  Duchess  of  Devonshire 
arrived  from  Europe,  in  the  Pacific,  and  was  completely 
astounded  to  find  such  a  report  in  circulation. 

From  the  day  of  her  arrival,  I  announced  that  I  should 
accept  of  no  more  subscriptions  for  the  season,  and  raised 
the  prices  of  admission  exactly  one  hundred  per  cent.  This 
last  fact  dispelled  all  doubts  of  her  superiority,  as  it  was  sup- 
posed that  I  could  not  have  dared  to  do  this,  with  such  a  rival 
attraction  as  Jenny  Lind  in  the  market,  if  I  had  not  been 
morally  certain  of  her  success.  "Well,  she  appeared  as 
Norma  to  a  crowded  house,  and  as  you  know,  she  had  talent 
enough  to  sustain  that  reputation  which  my  agents  and 
friends  had  manufactured  for  her.  To  the  end  of  the  season 
she  continued  to  draw  excellent  houses,  and,  instead  of  being 
ruined,  as  I  myself  had  predicted,  with  a  full  determination 
were  it  possible  to  falsify  my  own  prophecy,  I  carried  three 
operatic  seasons  in  New  York,  Philadelphia,  and  Boston  to  a 
triumphant  close,  being  enabled  to  pay  the  debts  of  the 
anterior  season,  and  to  close  my  campaign  with  some 
profit. 

In  the  mean  time,  Jenny  Lind,  under  the  management  of 


128  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

the  excellent  Barnum,  had  made  the  most  successful  musical 
tour  on  record. 

Indeed,  if  any  reliance  can  be  placed  upon  the  statements 
given  in  Mr.  Barnum's  Autobiography,  the  proceeds  of  the 
ninety-three  concerts  given  by  her  while  with  him,  amounted 
to  some  $700,000.  But  as  the  romantic  fiction  which  pur- 
ports to  contain  the  details  of  his  life  is  full  of  contradictions 
and  improbabilities,  it  may  also  be  presumed  that  the  above 
figures  are  slightly  exaggerated. 

It  is,  at  any  rate,  astonishing  how  a  man  of  such  marked 
shrewdness  as  the  worthy  Phineas,  could  have  been  guilty  of 
so  many  blunders  as  he  has  perpetrated  in  his  biography. 

But  it  would  be  too  wearisome,  as  well  for  myself 
as  for  you,  did  I  expose  all  the  contradictions  which  even  I 
can  detect  in  it,  in  those  portions  that  relate  more  exclusively 
to  his  Jenny  Lind  musical  campaign.  Two  or  three  exam- 
ples may  suffice.  Thus  on  page  313  you  may  read  as 
follows : — 

"  Jenny  looked  at  me  with  astonishment.  She  could  not 
comprehend  my  proposition.  After  I  had  repeated  it,  and 
she  fully  understood  its  import,  she  grasped  me  cordially  by 
the  hand,  and  exclaimed,  *  Mr.  Barnum,  you  are  a  gentleman 
of  honor.  You  are  generous.  It  is  just  as  Mr.  Bates  told  me. 
1  will  sing  for  you  as  long  as  you  please.  I  will  sing  for  you 
in  America — in  Europe — anywhere  /' " 
which  is,  upon  the  same  page,  almost  immediately  succeeded 
by  this  : — 

"  Upon  drawing  the  new  contract,  a  condition  was  inserted, 
by  Miss  Lind's  request,  that  she  should  have  the  right  to 
terminate  the  engagement  with  the  one  hundredth  concert, 
instead  of  the  hundred  and  fiftieth,  if  she  should  desire  to  do 
so,  upon  paying  me  $25,000." 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  129 

Now,  ho\v  is  it  to  be  understood,  that  Jenny  wishes  to  sing 
for  her  skilful  entrepreneur  "  as  long  as  he  may  please,"  when 
almost  immediately  afterwards  she  stipulates  with  him  for 
the  possibility  of  breaking  her  engagement  before  it  comes 
to  an  end?  And,  indeed,  at  page  339,  you  will  read,  or  have 
already  read,  the  following : — 

"  At  about  the  eighty-fifth  concert,  therefore,  I  was  most 
happy  to  learn  from  her  lips  that  she  had  concluded  to  pay 
the  forfeiture  of  twenty-five  thousand  dollars,  and  terminate 
the  concerts  with  the  one  hundredth." 

Allow  me  to  inquire  how  or  why  he  was  "  most  happy"  to 
learn  this  from  her  lips  ?  Have  the  concerts  not  been  alto- 
gether so  profitable  as  he  would  have  the  American  public 
believe,  or  is  it,  that  Jenny  herself  is  not  au  fond  that 
"angel"  which  he  had  in  his  first  moment  of  enthusiastic 
certainty  dubbed  her?  Was  she  capricious,  self-willed,  or 
difficult  to  manage,  like  any  other  prima  donna?  This  he 
does  not  confess,  although  it  would  seem  that  the  disinterested 
Swede,  who  had  in  her  angelic  nature  promised  to  sing  for 
him  as  long  as  he  pleased,  in  Europe — America,  or  anywhere 
else,  did  not  particularly  relish  finishing  even  the  first 
hundred  concerts  with  Barnum  at  the  head  of  affairs.  At 
all  events,  page  340,  there  is  a  copy  of  a  letter  from  Jenny 
which  reads  thus : — 

"To  P.  T.  BARNUM,  ESQ. 

"  MY  DEAR  SIR  : — I  accept  your  proposition  to  close  our 
contract  to-night,  at  the  end  of  the  ninety-third  concert,  on 
condition  of  my  paying  you  seven  thousand  dollars  in  addi- 
tion to  the  sum  I  forfeit  under  the  condition  of  finishing  the 
engagement  at  the  end  of  one  hundred  concerts. 

"  I  am,  dear  Sir,  yours  truly, 

"JENNY  LIND. 
"Philadelphia,  9th  of  June,  1851." 


130  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

So  that  we  are  forced  to  conclude  the  able  Manager,  who 
had  dealt  in  Giants,  Orang-outangs,  Dwarfs,  Generals,  Ele- 
phants, Bearded  Women,  Boa  Constrictors,  Feejee  Mermaids 
and  Alligators,  was  unable  to  manage  one  little  "  angel"  of  a 
prima  donna. 

And  what  is  the  reason  assigned  by  him  for  the  abrupt 
termination  of  her  engagement  after  the  ninety-third  con- 
cert ?  Can  the  readers  of  his  volume,  my  good  friend,  really 
believe  that  Jenny  broke  it,  and  paid  him  $7000  more 
forfeit  than  that  which  she  had  determined  to  pay  him  for 
not  concluding  the  150  concerts,  originally  stipulated  upon, 
simply  because  he  had  forced  her  to  sing  in  a  "  horse-circus," 
which, -as  he  says,  had  been  cleansed  and  fitted  up  before  for 
Italian  Opera  by  myself  ? 

Had  not  the  divine  Jenny  sung  before,  and  that  without 
expressing  the  slightest  objection,  in  a  pork-house  in  Madi- 
son ?  Why  is  it,  that  she  now  prefers  to  pay  $7000  to  sing- 
ing in  a  horse-circus  ? 

Here  is,  evidently,  some  mystery,  which  the  great  Auto- 
biographer  ought  to  have  explained. 

As  he  did  not  do  so,  my  amiable  friend,  you  will,  I  should 
presume,  not  be  offended  with  me  for  volunteering  an  expla- 
nation for  him. 

Shortly  before  she  was  called  upon  to  sing  in  the  horse- 
circus  in  Philadelphia,  Mr.  Barnum's  great  Asiatic  Travel- 
ling Menagerie  arrived  in  New  York,  and  made  its  triumphant 
progress  through  the  streets  of  this  metropolis.  When  the 
elephants,  ostriches  and  monkeys  paraded  through  Broad- 
way, preceded  by  bands  of  music,  tawdry  inscriptions  traced 
upon  banners,  and  other  mummeries,  in  order  to  excite  the 
curiosity  of  those  who  passed  it,  it  so  happened  that  Jenny 
Lind  was  standing  at  her  window,  and  observed  the  proces- 
sion. There,  she  seemed  to  remark  the  same  faces  in  the 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          131 

crowd  which  had  greeted  her  own  arrival,  the  same  enthu- 
siastic brows  which  had  followed  her  carriage  on  that  memo- 
rable occasion,  and  the  same  demonstrations  which  had  taken 
place  upon  her  advent  in  New  York. 

Is  it  not  possible  that,  upon  this  morning,  Jenny  found 
out,  in  Barnum's  eyes  she  was  no  more  than  his  Woolly 
Horse,  or  one  of  his  monkeys  ?  "Would  it  be  astonishing, 
that  the  Swedish  Nightingale  felt  hurt  in  both  her  womanly 
and  artistic  pride  ? 

If,  within  a  few  days  afterwards,  Barnum  forced  her  to 
sing  in  a  horse-circus,  which  had  not  "  been  cleaned  out  and 
fitted  up  by  Max  Maretzek,"  my  dear  Lablache,  inasmuch  as 
the  aforesaid  Max  Maretzek  never  played  there  at  all,  until 
some  three  months  after  Jenny  Lind  had  inaugurated  it  for 
musical  entertainments,  can  it  be  marvelled  at,  that  she  should 
become  entirely  disgusted  with  the  management  of  the 
"  Prince  of  Humbugs,"  and  preferred  paying  $7000  addi- 
tional forfeit  to  staying  another  moment  under  his  guidance  ? 
What  a  striking  contrast  is  presented  between  the  mutual 
sentiments  of  Jenny  and  P.  T.  B.,  at  the  time  of  their  sepa- 
ration in  Philadelphia,  and  those  which  they  had  experienced 
towards  each  other  in  Havana  and  Charleston  !*  Especially 
in  Havana,  would  it  seem,  that  their  life  had  been  purely 
patriarchal  in  its  cordiality.  They  there  sported  and  amused 
themselves,  like  shepherds  and  shepherdesses  in  the  age  of — 

"  Tytyre,  tu  recubans  sub  tegmine  fagi " — 
or,  in  a  German  Idyl  of  Gessner. 

You  may,  indeed,  see  a  woodcut  somewhere  about  page  330, 
which  may  be  regarded  as  a  singularly  close  representation 
of  one  of  these  Idyllic  scenes.  The  gentle  Swede  had  con- 
sented to  receive  the  tight-rope  dancer  Vivalla  and  his  learned 
dog.  In  this  cut,  she  is  represented  as  a  young  girl,  having  no 
*  See  pages  324-25  and  326  of  Barnum's  Autobiography. 


132  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

more  than  some  seventeen  or  eighteen  summers,  kneeling  on 
the  floor  in  front  of  the  fire-place,  (in  Havana,  who  has  ever 
seen  a  fire-place  ?)  fondling  a  large  dog.  The  Signer  Vivalla 
stands  on  one  side  with  his  cap  in  his  hand,  and  a  large  hook- 
nose, looking  amiable,  while  the  agreeable  P.  T.  Barnum 
figures  behind  the  group  with  a  marvellously  benevolent 
regard  in  his  physiognomy.  Anything  more  deliciously 
patriarchal  it  would  literally  be  impossible  to  conceive.  No- 
thing, perhaps,  is  here  lacking,  save  a  portrait  of  Joyce  Heth 
and  the  Mermaid,  with  a  slight  hint  of  the  Woolly  Horse  in 
the  background,  to  give  it  the  look  of  a  veritable  "  Happy 
Family." 

But,  in  addition  to  this,  my  most  friendly  basso,  you  will 
find  it  actually  upon  record  in  this  precious  Autobiography, 
that  the  Historiographer  of  the  Lind-mania  wept — indeed, 
that  he  positively  could  not  restrain  his  "  tears  of  joy."  Oh ! 
my  amiable  Lablache,  what  a  chance  was  here  lost !  Could 
he  but  have  perpetuated  those  diamond-drops,  which  he 
speaks  of,  what  an  invaluable  addition  would  his  own  per- 
son, in  its  weeping  state,  have  made  to  his  museum !  You 
may  also  see,  somewhere  near  this,  how  Jenny  Lind  also 
"  cries  with  joy"  and  how  she  actually  (so  Barnum  at  any  rate 
says)  kisses  that  Royal  Slip1  of  "  Humbug."  Really,  all  this 
is  too  affecting,  my  excellent  friend  ! 

Such  real,  such  true,  and  such  genuine  emotion,  expressed 
in  such  a  candid  and  natural  manner,  makes  me  also  overflow 
with  tears. 

Yes  !  I  weep,  Lablache,  with  tears  of  joy,  in  merely  speak- 
ing of  it.  The  page  blisters  with  them.  It  is  about  to  pro- 
duce the  same  effect  on  you,  and  I  refrain  from  prolonging 
my  observations,  lest  you  might  melt  into  a  tarn  of  some- 
thing the  same  size  as  the  Dead  Sea,  and  London  or  Paris, 


OPERA   MANAGER    IN   AMERICA.  133 

whichever  city  you  are  now  in,  might  be  swallowed  up  in  it 
as  Sodom  and  Gomorrha  were  in  that  Lake. 

Yet  still,  in  spite  of  their  mutual  exhibitions  to  each  other 
of  weeping  sensibility,  that  fine-hearted,  benevolent,  and  ad- 
mirable old  "  humbug,"  was  unable,  efficiently,  to  harmonize  in 
Philadelphia  with  the  amiable,  meek,  and  charitable  "  Angel," 
who  embraces  the  "  learned  dog,"  as  we  see,  and  kisses  Bar- 
num,  as  we  are  told.  Nay !  when  Jenny  offers  him  a  glass 
of  wine,  and  requests  him  to  drink  it  to  her  own  happiness 
and  prosperity,  he  replies  thus : — 

"  Miss  Lind,  I  do  not  think  you  can  ask  any  other  favor 
on  earth  which  I  would  not  gladly  grant ;  but  I  am  a  teeto- 
taller, and  must  beg  to  be  permitted  to  drink  your  health  and 
happiness  in  a  glass  of  cold  water." 

Yet,  upon  nearly  every  second  page  in  his  book,  you  may 
see  how  he  performed  his  practical  jokes  in  bar-rooms, 
saloons,  and  country-taverns,  for  the  bet  or  payment  of 
*'  drinks  all  round."* 

Now,  should  you,  good  Lablache,  wish  to  know  more  of 
the  contradictions  in  this  work,  if  by  any  chance  you  should 
not  have  read  it,  let  me  advise  you  to  procure  it,  which  you 
may  now  probably  do  at  half-price,  inasmuch  as,  with  a  much 
keener  appreciation  of  its  value  than  he  formerly  had,  P.  T. 
B.  has  knocked  off  seventy-five  cents  from  the  dollar  and 
a  half  he  had  affixed  to  it.  It  abounds  in  invention  and  im- 
probability, sufficient  to  satisfy  the  travelling  Quack  in  the 
Opera  founded  upon  the  old  tale  of  the  "  Maid  and  the  Mag- 
pie." He  talks  about  everything  which  interests  himself,  and 
tells  his  readers  nothing  about  anything  which  interests  them, 
save  as  much  as  they  have  already  known.  You  will  find 
descriptions  of  his  grandfather  and  his  Shanghai-roosters,  of 

*  See  pages  73,  79.  89,  145  (application  to  become  a  bar-keeper) 
147,  185,  187,  249,  278,  &c.  &c. 


I 

134  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

Ivy  Island  and  Iranistan,  of  Lottery  schemes  and  Buffalo 
hunts.  Rules  how  to  make  a  fortune  will  be  given  you,  which 
are  very  certainly  not  the  rules  by  which  his  own  was  made. 
You  will  learn  how  to  palm  off  a  Negro-woman  on  the  public, 
as  the  nurse  of  Washington,  and  have  a  faithful  description 
(at  the  least  so  it  must  be  presumed)  of  the  ceremonies  at 
his  birth,  his  marriage  and  his — 

No !  no  !     I  was  about  so  say  even  of  his — obsequies. 

Yet  Charles  V.  dictated  the  terms  of  his  interment,  himself, 
and  rehearsed  it  during  his  life-time.  In  order  to  make  his 
Autobiography  complete,  ought  not  Barnum  to  have  given 
us  the  programme  of  his  funeral  rites  ? 

You  may  imagine,  my  large  friend,  for  I  know  you  have  a 
superabundance  of  the  vis  comica  in  your  imagination,  a 
group  of  young  "Mermaids,"  crowned  with  myrtle,  opening 
the  procession  and  scattering  immortelles  upon  his  path  to 
eternity.  Six  "  Halifax  Giants"  should  bear  the  sarcophagus 
of  the  great  showman.  The  tassels  of  the  pall  (made  of  six 
Jenny  Lind  "  posters")  should  be  supported  by  six  "  Fat 
Women."  Behind  the  coffin  should  be  led  his  «  Woolly"  bat- 
tle horse,  by  the  "  Negro"  who  had  consented  to  turn  white, 
once  more,  expressly  for  this  occasion.  Funereal  hymns 
might  be  screeched  out  by  those  youthful  vocalists  who  had 
taken  the  prizes  at  the  "  Baby  Show."  "  Faber's  Automa- 
ton" should  follow,  for  the  purpose  of  pronouncing  his  fune- 
ral oration,  while  a  regiment  of  the  "  Sons  of  Temperance" 
should  file  after  it,  headed  by  the  venerable  General  "  Tom 
Thumb."  His  "  Wax  Figures"  might  melt  away  in  an  un- 
availing sorrow,  while  the  "  Bearded  Lady"  would  pull  the 
black  bristles  from  her  chin,  in  sublime  despair.  Stockhold- 
ers of  the  "  Crystal  Palace"  and  the  original  "  Proprietors  of 
the  Fire-Annihilator"  might  be  weeping  bitterly,  and  a  depu- 
tation of  his  colleagues,  the  moral,  honest  and  pious  "  showmen' 


OPERA   MANAGER    IN    AMERICA.  135 

of  America,  could  bring  up  the  rear,  in  deep  mourning,  and 
doing  their  utmost  not  to  laugh. 

This  would  make  a  truly  magnificent  exhibition,  my  dear 
Lablache,  and,  I  trust  that  I  may  live  to  see  it — of  course  upon 
the  payment  of  25  cents  admission.  Believe  me,  that  I  re- 
main, 

Yours,  most  truly, 

&c.  &c.  &c. 


FOURTH    LETTER. 

TO    PROFESSOR   JOSEPH    FISCHO  F,  VIENNA. 

Recollections  of  earlier  years — Successful  Opera-Managers — Barbaja, 
Dr.  Veron,  Don  Franscisco  Marty  y  Torrens — The  Havana  Opera- 
Troupe,  Steffenone,  Bosio,  Tedesco,  Salvi,  Bettini,  Lorini,  Marini, 
Badiali,  Coletti,  Bottesini — Glances  behind  the  Scenes — Opera  at 
Castle  Garden. 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN  AMERICA.  139 


LETTER  IY. 

TO  PROFESSOR  JOSEPH  FISCHOF,  VIENNA. 

NEW  YORK,  August,  1855. 
EXCELLENT  FRIEND  : — 

IN  taking  up  my  pen  and  drawing  before  me  the  sheet  of 
paper  with  the  purpose  of,  at  present,  addressing  you,  I  am 
unable  to  suppress  the  many  remembrances  which  throng  upon 
me.  Albeit,  this  letter  is  destined,  in  spite  of  its  German- 
English,  for  publication,  and  consequently  the  public  will  claim 
the  right  of  becoming  my  confidant  in  all  which  I  may  herein 
say  to  you  ;  I  cannot  entirely  stifle  the  recollections  of  my  earli- 
est years.  Memories,  even  as  I  trace  your  name,  come  strug- 
gling back  into  my  mind.  Youth  and  boyhood  are  too  power- 
fully welded  into  all  our  lives,  to  be  brushed  entirely  away  by 
the  subsequent  chance  and  change  of  our  existence. 

Therefore  is  it,  that  my  pen  places  upon  the  paper  an  ac- 
knowledgment of  my  gratitude  for  all  your  kindness  ;  and  regis- 
ters its  remembrance  of  the  encouragement  which  you,  the  well- 
known  maestro,  gave  the  unfortunate  tyro  in  his  passion  for 
melody. 

Through  your  interference  in  my  behalf,  I  was  allowed  to 
embrace  a  musical  career.  To  your  kindness  do  I  owe  it,  that 
my  parents  permitted  me  to  become  an  artist.  Possibly,  my 
dear  Professor,  it  was  a  rash  longing  upon  my  part  and  an 


140  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

unwise  benevolence  upon  your  own,  which  enabled  me  to  do 
so.  But  not  being  one  of  those  discontented  individuals  who 
are  never  happy  save  when  quarrelling  with  their  destiny,  I 
chide  neither  at  you,  nor  censure  my  own  determination.  Suf- 
ficient is  it  for  me  to  know  that  I  have  embraced  the  most 
arduous  of  professions,  and  that  I  am  now  perforce  obliged  to 
pursue  the  career  of  an  artist. 

Then,  no  more  than  a  beardless  boy  of  some  seventeen 
years,  at  College  I  had  swallowed  the  Greek  and  Roman  clas- 
sics without  doing  any  harm  to  the  digestive  faculties  of  my 
brain.  As  a  proof  of  this,  it  may  be  mentioned  that  they  are 
now  almost  completely  forgotten  by  me.  If  my  memory  tells 
me  that  there  was  such  a  historian  as  Thucydides,  such  a  ro- 
manticist as  Hesiod,  and  such  poets  as  Catullus,  Juvenal,  or 
Terence,  believe  me  that  it  is  all  it  can  do.  The  Lectures  on 
Philosophy,  Metaphysics,  Geometry,  Logic,  and  the  Common 
Law,  were  attended  by  me.  These  have  served  me  but  little, 
although  they  were  destined  by  my  father  to  direct  me  in  my 
course  of  life.  He  had  already  mapped  it  out  for  me.  The 
truth  is,  I  was  to  be  either  a  doctor  medicina,  or  should  I 
chance  to  prefer  it,  a  doctor  juris. 

In  the  mean  time,  I  had  imbibed  a  strong  dislike  to  fight- 
ing out  the  quarrels  of  other  people  in  a  black  gown,  and  had 
contracted  an  invincible  repugnance  to  scalpels  and  dead  bo- 
dies. 

Living  only  for  Music,  my  youthful  fancies  reverenced  no- 
thing but  Art. 

Already  in  the  last  two  years  of  my  collegiate  experience, 
the  works  of  Mozart,  Weber,  Rossini,  and  the  older  masters, 
had  more  charms  for  me  than  the  mathematical  problem  first 
worked  out  by  Pythagoras,  and  called  by  the  vulgar,  the  pons 
asinorum.  My  musical  enthusiasm  venerated  Mendelssohn  and 
Meyerbeer,  far  more  than  mv  studious  nature  respected  the 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          141 

metaphysical  dogmas  of  the  Romanist  priest  who  was  one  of 
our  professors.  Indeed,  often  when  our  admirable  instructors 
endeavored  to  make  us  comprehend  their  Tables  of  Logarithms, 
or  logically  argued  the  necessity  for  an  origin  of  the  World, 
trying  to  prove  the  existence  of  a  God  with  algebraic  figures 
(which  argument  and  proof  never  said  as  much,  I  may  be 
permitted  to  observe,  as  does  the  first  line  in  the  Book  of 
Genesis,)  my  wandering  ideas  had  strayed  far  from  the  lec- 
ture-room, and  were  occupied  in  the  composition  of  an  an- 
dante grazioso,  or  in  modelling  the  concluding  bars  of  some 
allegro  furioso.  Nevertheless,  I  always  managed  to  squeeze 
myself  through  the  difficulties  of  an  Examination,  until,  at 
length,  the  critical  moment  had  arrived. 

It  was  determined  that  I  should  be  a  surgeon.  Consequent- 
ly, I  had  to  enter  the  dissection-room. 

At  this  moment  in  my  life,  my  nervous  feelings  at  the 
thoughts  of  that  which  must  be  undergone,  were  by  no  means 
soothed  on  my  introduction  to  the  locality,  hallowed,'  as  my 
Professor  had  told  me,  by  the  first  blush  of  Science. 

On  entering  the  well-ventilated  Hall,  the  Beadle  of  the  Uni- 
versity had  just  put  up  to  auction  the  mortal  remains  of  some 
poor  fellow  who  had  hung  himself,  thereby  placing  his  body 
within  the  legal  reach  of  a  dissecting-knife. 

It  was  the  first  dead  body  I  had  ever  seen.  Such  a  fright- 
ful impression  did  it  make  upon  me,  that  for  weeks  afterwards 
were  my  waking  thoughts  and  sleeping  dreams  haunted  by  that 
blue  and  livid  face  with  its  ghastly  and  open  eyes. 

Two  old  students,  who,  during  the  auction,  had  been  eating 
their  breakfast,  consisting  of  cold  sausages  and  bread  and 
cheese,  were  fortunate  enough  to  become  its  enviable  proprie- 
tors. When  knocked  down  to  them,  they  had  finished  their  meal 
and  rushed  up  to  their  prize.  They  turned  it  over  and  han- 
dled it,  playing  with  it  as  babies  play  with  their  dolls,  while 


142  REVELATIONS    OF  AN 

my  flesh  was  creeping  over  my  bones  with  a  painfully  unmiti- 
gated disgust.  Then,  they  sold  out  portions  of  it  in  a  carefully 
modelled  imitation  of  the  auctioneering  capacity  of  the  Beadle. 
At  last,  they  removed  it  to  the  dissecting-table.  Imagine  then, 
my  good  Professor,  the  indescribable  loathing  and  horror  which 
seized  upon  me,  when  I  saw  one  of  the  identical  knives  which 
had  operated  in  dividing  the  sausages,  and  cutting  up  the 
bread  and  cheese,  thrust  into  the  dead  man's  body.  Had  it 
been  thrust  into  my  own  flesh,  the  emotion  could  not  have  been 
one  whit  more  horrible.  I  felt  that  knife  passing  through  my 
very  soul. 

Leaping  up,  I  rushed  from  the  hall.  What  passed  between 
me  and  my  parents,  I  have  no  distinct  remembrance  of,  but  it 
was  decided  that  Max  Maretzek  should  no  more  return  to  the 
Surgical  College. 

After  this,  it  was  determined  that  I  should  devote  myself  to 
Music.  The  life  of  an  artist,  at  that  time,  seemed  to  me  the 
only  reasonable  and  honorable  existence  for  any  man. 

Consequently,  instead  of  frequenting  lecture-rooms  and  col- 
leges, I  sat  down  to  complete  an  Opera  which  had  been  already 
commenced.  What  young  composer  does  not  write  an  Opera  ? 
In  the  innocence  of  my  youthful  belief,  the  said  Opera  was  to 
carry  me  straight  along  the  road  to  Fame  and  Fortune.  The 
more  my  work  advanced,  the  more  evidently  did  it  become,  in 
my  opinion,  a  chef  d'auvre.  It  was  bound  (so,  at  least,  did  I  be- 
lieve) to  make  a  profound  sensation,  and  earn  for  me  an  equality 
with  the  greatest  composers.  Dreaming,  even  in  my  waking 
hours,  of  those  honors  which  perforce  awaited  me  after  its  pro- 
duction, and  seeming  to  compose  even  as  I  slumbered,  at  length, 
I  completed  that  stupendous  work. 

Possibly,  my  dear  Fischof,  you  may  not  remember  this  sub- 
lime exhibition  of  my  youthful  genius.  Far  as  we  are  apart,  I 
feel  that  you  shake  your  head  in  answer.  Yet  it  was  to  you 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  143 

I  ran  with  my  first  Operatic  score.  It  was  to  you  that  I  first 
began  to  play  it  over.  Your  observations  I  well  recollect. 
What  were  they  ?  After  listening  to  several  pieces,  you  very 
coolly  advised  me  to  continue  my  studies,  and  to  persevere  in 
my  determination  to1  become  a  musician  !  Professor  !  how 
could  you  be  so  cruel  ?  You  told  me  that  melody  and  imagin- 
ation were  abundantly  manifested  in  the  score,  and  these  you 
considered  sufficient  guarantees  for  the  future  development  of 
my  musical  talent.  This,  my  dear  Fischof,  was  the  bitterest 
cut  that  you  could  possibly  have  administered  to  the  over- 
weening vanity  of  a  mere  boy. 

Let  me  confess  to  you,  that  for  the  moment,  disappointment 
overmastered  me.  I  was  indeed  sadly  hurt.  My  expectation 
had  been  that  you  would  have  hailed  me  as  a  genius.  I  had 
supposed  that  you  would  have  been  thunderstruck  to  discover 
what  enormous  talent  had  suddenly  come  to  light.  In  my 
day-dreams,  I  had  seen  you,  with  my  score  tinder  your  arm  in 
a  huge  brown-paper  parcel,  hurrying  off  to  the  administration 
of  the  Imperial  Opera.  Nay  !  in  my  fancy,  I  had  listened  to 
you  while  urging  its  immediate  performance. 

It  is  needless  to  say,  that  I  left  not  my  Opera  for  a  moment 
in  your  hands,  after  your  opinion  had  been  expressed. 

Resolved,  however,  not  to  abandon  my  chance  of  immortali- 
ty, I  hurried  off  to  Doctor  Ignaz  Jeitteles,  the  celebrated  Pro- 
fessor of  Esthetics,  and  with  less  modesty  than  that  which 
had  been  displayed  towards  you,  laid  the  score  before  him. 
My  request  was,  and  sooth  to  say,  it  was  made,  if  my  memory 
serves  me,  in  a  remarkably  determined  manner,  that  he  would 
use  his  influence  in  proposing  my  Opera  for  performance  at  the 
Imperial  Opera.  After  a  few  questions  which  he  addressed  to 
me,  he  in  all  probability  ascertained  that  I  could  not  be  easily 
dismissed.  He  therefore  requested  me  to  leave  my  score  with 
him  and  to  return  in  a  few  days. 


144:  KEVELATIONS    OF   AN 

The  minutes  and  seconds  of  those  few  days  were  eagerly 
counted  by  me.  They  seemed  to  me  so  many  centuries.  On 
the  appointed  day,  I  accordingly  presented  myself  again. 

"  I  have  sent,"  said  the  worthy  Doctor,  "  your  Opera  to  our 
Maestro,  the  Chevalier  Seyfried,  who,  as  you  know,  is  the 
greatest  musical  theorist  of  our  days." 

"  Well !"  was  my  answer,  "  and  the  result  ?" 

"He  gave  his  opinion  in  writing  upon  its  merits.  Shall  I 
read  it  to  you  ?" 

"  Most  certainly  I" 

"  Then  listen  I"  Here  he  took  out  a  letter,  unfolded  it, 
and  began  reading  : — "  The  Opera  which  you  have  sent  me, 
has,  after  its  perusal,  actually  made  me  feel  forty  years 
younger ! " 

Here,  I  jumped  up  in  a  perfect  ecstasy,  and  completely  wild 
with  delight,  as  the  Doctor,  looking  at  me  with  an  ironical 
smile  on  his  intellectual  features,  asked  me  whether  I  would 
listen  to  any  more  ? 

"  Yes  !  yes  !  continue  by  all  means,  my  dearest  Doctor  !" 
I  stammered  out. 

"  Because,  forty  years  since,  I  was  unfortunately  in  the 
habit  of  writing  just  such  nonsense  as  this  Opera  is  1" 

A  blow  with  a  feather  would  at  this  moment  have  felled  me. 
I  sunk  back  into  my  chair,  like  an  automaton,  whose  wheels 
and  watch-springs  have  done  their  appointed  labor 

"  Will  you  hear  the  remainder  ?"  asked  the  professor. 

11  No  !     This  is  more  than  enough." 

"  Never  mind  what  he  has  said — "  continued  Dr.  Jeitteles. 

I  hid  my  face  in  my  hands. 

"  Take  courage,  and  be  attentive  to  what  follows  ; "  and 
then,  resuming  the  letter,  he  thus  continued  :  "  However, 
there  are  such  keen  modulations  displayed  in  portions  of  it,  to- 
gether with  such  a  plentiful  supply  of  melody,  that  it  may  be 


OPERA   MANAGER    IN   AMERICA.  145 

permitted  me  to  believe,  if  the  unknown  young  gentleman  were 
to  begin  his  theoretical  studies  anew,  he  might,  in  some  two 
years,  become  an  accomplished  maestro,  and  as  such,  would 
promise  well  for  the  future.  In  such  a  case,  I  should  not -be 
altogether  disinclined  to  take  charge  of  his  musical  education 
myself !» 

Mute  with  disappointment,  all  my  hopes  had  vanished  from 
me. 

All  the  pictures  of  Fame  and  honors  (not  yet  had  I  began 
to  think  of  money,  my  old  friend)  which  my  imagination  had 
painted,  were  at  once  dissolved.  All  the  castles  which  I  had 
reared  in  the  morning-skies  of  my  fancy,  had  melted  into  the 
unsubstantial  heavens. 

Old  Dr.  Jeitteles,  however,  viewed  the  affair  in  a  widely 
different  light.  He  assured  me  that  this  reply  from  Seyfried, 
seemed  to  him  flatterig  enough. 

"  Flattering  enough  !"  I  groaned  with  an  involuntary  echo. 

For  his  part,  he  had  not  expected  half  as  complimentary 
an  answer. 

"  Half  as  complimentary  !"  "Was  the  kind-hearted  old 
wretch  not  adding  positive  insult  to  injury  ? 

He,  consequently,  advised  me  to  take  advantage  of  the  hon- 
orable offer  which  the  Chevalier  had  implied  at  the  conclusion 
of  his  letter,  and  to  obtain  permission  from  my  parents  to  ter- 
minate my  musical  studies  under  his  care.  Leaving  the  Doctor, 
I  went  homeward,  however,  with  the  resolution  to  abandon  the 
profession  of  my  choice,  and  rush  into  bone-setting  or  process- 
serving,  or  anything  else  to  which  it  might  please  my  parents  to 
call  me.  Old  as  I  was,  I  do  not  feel  ashamed  to  say,  that,  on 
this  night,  my  feelings  sobbed  themselves  to  silence  upon  this 
determination.  It  was  evident  that,  as  yet,  although  fancy 
had  dubbed  me  a  man,  fact  still  ranked  me  as  a  child. 

But  with  the  following  dawn,  Fischof,  when  I  arose  and 
7 


146  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

dressed  myself,  all  things  bad  changed  to  ray  perception.  What 
it  was,  I  know  not.  Certain  is  it  that  I  had  not  dreamed,  yet 
my  first  waking  reflections  were  widely  different  from  those 
under  whose  influence  slumber  had  come  upon  me. 

Cool  thought  treated  my  childish  presumption,  now,  at  its 
right  value. 

Returning  again  to  you,  I  begged  your  interference  with  my 
parents,  and  through  your  intercession  was  it,  with  them,  that 
their  consent  was  given  to  my  boyish  ignorance  of  music,  being 
placed  under  the  tuition  of  the  Chevalier.  With  what  ardor 
and  perseverance  I  worked  under  his  guidance,  and  how,  some 
time  afterwards,  an  Opera  was  actually  produced  by  me,  with 
more  than  the  mere  success  generally  awarded  by  public  cour- 
tesy to  a  first  production,  is  known  to  you  and  most  of  my 
countrymen  who  understand  and  relish  music.  What  German 
is  there  that  does  not  do  so  ? 

Sixteen  years  have  passed  over  me  since  that  period,  and 
although  I  again  tell  you  how  thankful  I  was  and  am  for  yonr 
kindness,  the  thought  has  occasionally  passed  through  my 
mind  whether  it  would  not  have  been  better  for  me  to  become 
either  a  doctor  or  a  lawyer. 

Had  my  father's  will  made  me  the  first,  perchance  my  ima- 
ginative faculty  might  have  developed  itself  in  some  Universal 
Medicament  "  good  for  all  kinds  of  diseases,  and  very  whole- 
some to  healthy  persons,"  like  Dr.  Dulcamara's  in  the  "  Elixir 
d'Amore."  By  this  time,  I  might  have  been  a  millionaire  like 
Professor  Holloway,  of  London,  or  have  emulated  the  glories 
of  Dr.  Townsend's  palatial  mansion  in  our  own  Fifth  Avenue. 

Had  he  made"  me  a  lawyer,  a  single  year  of  study  would  have 
fitted  me  for  practising  at  the  Bar  in  my  new  country.  The 
money  of  my  clients  would,  in  the  first  place,  have  been  paid 
me  for  commencing  and  not  carrying  on  their  suits  ;  while  the 
money  of  their  opponents  would  have  rewarded  me  for  suffer- 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  147 

ing  them  to  go  by  default.  Perchance,  I  might  have  concert- 
ized  with  political  Lectures,  and  have  ultimately  obtained  some 
fat  slice  at  the  division  of  the  spoils  ;  or,  could  I  not  even  have 
supplied  families  and  hotel-keepers  with  opinions  on  the  Maine, 
— or  rather  on  the  New  York  Liquor-Law,  pro  or  con,  in 
every  style,  at  the  shortest  notice  ;  terms — cash. 

But  as  a  simple  musician,  after  sixteen  years  of  hard  labor, 
and  as  a  Manager  after  a  musical  war  of  seven  years'  duration, 
my  dear  Fischof,  where  am  I  ? 

The  baton  has  been  wielded  by  me,  now  as  a  maestro, 
again  as  a  Conductor,  and  afterwards  as  a  Manager,  in  various 
cities,  from  Agrarn  near  the  Black  Sea  to  Mexico  almost  on 
the  borders  of  the  Pacific  Ocean.  Here,  I  have  been  almost 
starving.  There,  I  have  been  entertaining  a  host  of  guests  in 
a  style  that  was  well  nigh  princely.  Occasionally,  my  request 
has  been  made  in  vain  for  employment  as  a  musical  copyist. 
At  another  time,  employment  has  been  given  by  me  to  some- 
where about  three  hundred  persons.  Now,  I  have  been  forced 
to  borrow  a  few  score  of  dollars  from  particular  friends,  and 
then,  compelled  to  lavish  hundreds  (or  as  it  might  truly  be  said, 
thousands)  upon  professional  enemies.  As  a  reward  for  the 
first  necessity,  my  friends  were  invariably  lost  to  him  who  dared 
make  use  of  their  pockets  ;  and,  as  a  return  for  the  last,  my  com- 
pulsory profusion  has  ever  managed  to  retain  my  enemies. 
Sometimes  hissed  by  the  public  ;  at  others,  I  have  been  the  ob- 
ject of  the  most  flattering  ovations.  But,  my  old  and  dear 
friend,  the  object  of  my  younger  ambition,  the  writing  and  the 
production  of  Operas,  has  been  neglected  until  the  present. 

You  will  naturally  enough  ask  me  why  this  should  be  ? 

To  this,  only  one  answer  can  be  made.  Circumstances  have 
thrust  me  into  my  present  path,  and  have  not,  as  yet,  allowed 
me  for  one  moment  to  diverge  from  it.  As  a  necessity,  almost, 
was  management  forced  upon  me. 


148  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

This,  you  will  tell  me,  was  an  admirable  position  for  a  young 
composer,  to  bring  out  his  own  Operas. 

But  do  you  not  know  that  a  Manager  is  nowhere  the  abso- 
lute ruler  of  his  own  artists.  In  America  more  especially,  is 
he  their  slave,  while  they  are  his  tyrants.  No  rules  and  regu- 
lations are  enforced  by  the  law,  in  this  land  of  freedom,  which 
these  sons  and  daughters  gotten  by  caprice  upon  whim,  are 
forced  to  obey.  It  might  possibly  have  been  managed,  but  the 
example  given  me,  by  my  predecessor  in  the  Astor  Place  Opera 
House,  frightened  me.  Mr.  Fry  had  ruined  himself  by  his 
predilection  for  his  brother's  Operas.  Consequently,  my  rea- 
soning was  this.  If  a  brother's  Operas  are  so  dangerous,  how 
much  more  must  the  Operas  of  a  Manager  himself  be.  There- 
fore, not  only  my  time  and  labor,  together  with  my  own  money 
and  that  of  others,  have  been  risked  and  staked  in  the  esta- 
blishment of  Opera  in  America,  but  the  real  object  of  my 
whole  life  has  also  been  sacrificed  to  it.  You  inquire  of  me, 
wherefore  my  Operas  were  not  produced  in  other  theatres  than 
those  which  I  was  managing  ?  Blushing  with  shame,  a  con- 
fession, which  cannot  be  avoided,  rises  to  my  tongue.  Mine, 
my  respected  friend,  was  the  only  operatic  Company  in  the 
United  States,  if  the  French  Opera  at  New  Orleans  (only 
some  2000  miles  distant)  be  excepted  !  In  Germany  or  Italy, 
not  a  town  is  there  of  twenty  thousand  inhabitants,  which  has 
not  its  own  Opera  House  and  its  own  operatic  Company.  A 
city  which  possesses  60  or  100,000  inhabitants,  generally  has 
two  or  three  well-sustained  and  well-supported  musical  theatres. 
We  in  the  United  States  (there  are  more  than  25,000,000  of 
us)  have  but  two.  Even  with  this  small  number,  failures  are 
the  general  order  of  the  day. 

The  Grecian,  Roman,  Florentine  and  Venetian  Republics 
not  only  encouraged  Art,  but  were  in  fact  the  hearth  and 
harbor  of  all  Art  and  Genius. 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  149 

Yet,  it  would  seem  that  our  new  and  young  Republic,  which 
in  point  of  commerce,  wealth,  industry,  and  the  genius  of 
invention,  has  in  such  a  brief  space  of  time  surpassed  and  out- 
flanked your  old  Europe,  is  -not  willing  to  acknowledge  the 
wholesome  and  useful  influence  of  Art  over  the  education  of 
youth  and  in  the  culture  of  Manhood. 

Beyond  a  doubt,  a  really  creative  genius  in  Poetry,  Music, 
Painting,  or  Sculpture,  must  starve  in  America,  should  he  de- 
cide on  confining  himself  to  that  calling  for  which  his  Maker 
has  pre-eminently  gifted  him.  Bryant,  whom  you  of  course 
know  by  his  Poems,  edits  a  daily  journal.  Would  it  be 
possible  to  say  more  than  is  said  in  this  single  sentence  ?  The 
greatest  poet  in  the  New  World  deals  in  daily  politics  and  the 
price  of  stocks. 

Yes  !  my  old  friend,  cities  such  as  Boston,  Philadelphia, 
Cincinnati  and  Baltimore,  with  populations  as  large  as  those 
of  Vienna,  Naples,  Berlin  and  Milan,  cannot  or  do  not  choose 
to  support  a  regular  Opera. 

Indeed,  the  only  regular  Italian  Opera  in  the  Northern  half 
of  that  part  of  the  world  in  which  I  am  now  residing  (admire, 
my  dear  Fischof,  the  extent  of  that  last  phrase,)  save  our  own 
in  New  York,  was  located  in  the  city  of  Havana  and  the  island 
of  Cuba. 

It  was  under  the  direction  of  Don  Francisco  Marty  y 
Torrens. 

Seiior  Marty,  like  Barbaja  in  Naples,  or  Dr.  Yeron  in  Paris, 
belongs  to  the  class  of  successful  operatic  Managers.  The 
reason  of  this  is,  that,  like  Yeron  or  Barbaja,  Marty  has  by  no 
means  made  it  his  principal  business.  With  either  of  the  three, 
it  is  only  an  accessory  or  secondary  affair,  kept  up  with  a  view 
of  palliating  the  principal  one,  for  which  service  the  cloaked 
concern,  in  its  turn,  makes  good  the  losses  which  may  be  in- 
curred by  the  Opera. 


150  REVELATIONS    OP   AN 

Thus,  as  you  well  know,  Barbaja  has  the  privilege  of  all  the 
gambling-houses  in  the  kingdom  of  Naples  placed  in  his  hands, 
together  with  the  management  of  the  Opera.  His  position  as 
its  imprcssario,  necessarily  brought  him  into  connection  with 
every  class,  strangers  and  natives.  Consequently,  after  having 
animated  his  acquaintances  with  music  and  singing,  and  after 
having  diverted  their  eyes  with  the  silk  fleshings  and  short 
muslin  jupons  of  his  corps  de  ballet,  he  fleeced  them  at  his 
gambling-houses,  and  soon  became  more  wealthy  than  the  king 
of  Naples  himself.  Report  says,  although  it  may  be  a  matter 
of  question  with  me  and  most  other  Managers,  whether  report 
ought  always  to  be  implicitly  believed,  that  the  said  Barbaja 
used  to  be  extremely  polite  with  those  individuals  who  won  at 
his  gambling  tables,  and  regularly  sent  them  home  in  his  own 
carriages.  His  politeness  used  to  be  accurately  proportioned 
to  the  amount  which  they  bore  away  with  them.  Those  who 
lost,  he  did  not  even  notice.  They  were  allowed  to  find  their 
way  to  their  dwellings  upon  their  own  legs. 

Once,  an  acquaintance  who  had  been  winning,  asked  him 
the  reason  of  this. 

Barbaja  smiled. 

"  My  system,"  said  he,  "  is  a  very  simple  one.  The  lucky 
gambler,  loaded  with  money,  may  be  robbed  in  returning  home. 
But  I  consider  the  money  in  his  pockets  as  still  mine.  Barring 
accidents,  he  will  return  and  lose  it  to  the  last  scudo.  I  have 
to  take  care  of  him.  The  unlucky  gambler,  on  the  contrary, 
having  been  already  "  cleaned  out,"  cannot  be  robbed.  His 
passion  and  the  desire  to  retrieve  his  losses,  will  bring  him  back 
to  try  his  fortune  once  more.  There  is  no  necessity  for  extra 
care  or  politeness  with  him." 

Barbaja  again  smiled  pleasantly,  as  his  acquaintance  buttoned 
up  his  pockets. 

How  it  was,  that  the  great  gambling-house  proprietor  had 


OPERA  MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  151 

made  such  a  mistake,  I  know  not,  but  the  gentleman  never 
again  played  at  one  of  his  tables. 

As  for  Dr.  Yeron,  it  is  generally  known  that  he  was  the  in- 
ventor of  the  celebrated  Pate  Pectorale*  What  position  could 
be  more  admirably  calculated,  than  his  was,  as  Manager  of  the 
French  Opera  in  Paris,  to  advertise  that  Pate  through  the 
whole  of  Europe  ? 

But,  now,  you  will  ask  me  about  the  business  of  the  very 
worthy  Don  Francisco  Marty  y  Torrens.  My  personal  know- 
ledge of  him  is  very  small.  If  I  state  to  you  what  is  said 
about  him,  remember  that  I  am  very  far  from  vouching  for  its 
scrupulous  exactitude.  It  is  said,  then,  that  in  his  younger 
days,  the  Havanese  impressario  was  the  mate  of  a  most  for- 
midable Pirate  who  infested  the  Mexican  Gulf  and  the  seas 
more  immediately  adjacent'  to  it.  The  Spanish  government 
offered  a  large  recompense  for  the  capture  of  this  pirate. 
Immediately,  the  youthful  Francisco  felt  it  his  duty  to  serve 
his  government.  The  rover  fell  into  a  trap,  which  was  very 
neatly  laid  for  him,  and  was  taken.  He  was,  of  course, 
"  garoted,"  this  punishment  being  a  peculiarly  agreeable  and 
expeditious  way  of  throttling  a  prisoner  in  public,  which  is  in 
vogue  in  Cuba. 

As  his  recompense,  the  amiable  Francisco  received  the  pri- 
vilege of  all  the  fish-markets  in  the  island. 

Nobody  in  all  Cuba  had  the  right  of  selling  a  single  fish, 
without  paying  certain  dues  to  Don  Francisco  Marty  y 
Torrens. 

In  addition  to  this,  he  had  money.  How  much  or  where 
acquired,  no  one  knows.  This  loose  cash  he  invested  in  build- 
ing or  chartering  some  hundreds  of  fishing-boats.  He  was  there- 
fore enabled,  after  a  short  time,  to  supply  his  own  markets. 

*  A  lozenge  adapted  to  dispel  hoarseness,  and  used  alike  on  the  stage 
and  in  the  pulpit. 


152  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

This  business,  in  which  he  could  encounter  no  opposition,  soon 
afterwards  took  under  his  management  such  colossal  proportions, 
that,  some  years  since,  its  annual  profits  were  estimated  at 
10,000  ounces  of  gold,  or  something  equivalent  to  800,000 
francs.  Still  retaining  a  certain  predilection  for  everything 
approximating  to  his  old  profession  (you  note,  I  should  pre- 
sume, the  delicate  name  with  which  it  is  characterized),  he 
fitted  out  several  large  vessels  to  carry  on  the  slave  trade. 
His  baits  were  now  fire-arms,  doubloons  and  kegs  of  brandy. 
His  hooked  fish  were  negroes  from  the  coast  of  Africa,  and 
Indians  from  Yucatan.  These,  the  bribed  authorities  of  the 
island  permitted  to  be  landed  and  sold  there.  This  speculation 
increased  Marty's  fortune,  and  it  soon  reached  an  almost  fabulous 
extent.  He  now  dabbled  in  government  securities,  and  was 
several  times  enabled  to  help  the*  government  of  Spain  out  of 
its  momentary  embarrassments.  For  this  devotion,  an  equi- 
valent had  to  be  received,  and  it  was  offered  him  in  the  shape 
of  knighthood  and  "letters  of  nobility"  by  the  Spanish  crown. 

Thus  he  became  not  only  powerful  in  Havana,  but  great 
also  in  Madrid,  in  which  city  he  keeps  his  regular  agents. 

It  has  indeed  been  told  me,  that  the  Captain-general  Concha 
had  at  one  time  determined  upon  depriving  Marty  of  the  privi- 
lege of  exclusively  dealing  in  fish.  He  had  therefore  obtained 
the  revocation  of  the  grant  from  the  Spanish  Ministry.  The 
worthy  Senor  Francisco  had,  however,  been  informed  of  the 
proceedings  with  this  view,  by  his  agents,  and  had  acted  in 
accordance  with  the  intelligence.  When  summoned  by  General 
Concha  to  the  palace,  and  notified  by  him  that  his  privilege  had 
ceased,  by  command  of  the  Queen,  he  very  coolly  asked  the 
Captain-general  the  date  of  this  order.  The  document  was 
handed  to  him.  Marty  looked  at  it  and  drew  another  from  his 
pocket,  which  was  dated  exactly  one  day  later. 

It  revoked  the  former  one  and  reinstated  Don  Francisco 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          153 

Marty  y  Torrens  in  all  his  former  rights  and  privileges.  The 
General  was  for  the  moment  thunderstruck,  as  Marty  said  to 
him— 

"  Your  Excellency  not  appearing  to  have  received  the  com- 
munication, believe  me,  I  shall  feel  most  happy  in  providing 
you  with  this  copy  of  it." 

But,  in  spite  of  his  wealth,  his  power  and  his  influence, 
Marty  was  not  liked.  The  proud  Castilian  noblesse  of  the 
island  absolutely  refused  to  tolerate  the  slave-dealer  and  fish- 
seller  in  their  society.  He  therefore  determined  upon  forcing 
them  to  swallow  the  fish  and  digest  the  negro.  To  do  this, 
he  built  a  splendid  Opera  House,  engaged  first-rate  Opera 
troupes,  and  became  his  own  Manager. 

At  first,  lovers  of  song  as  all  Spaniards  are,  they  refused  to 
patronize  him. 

Enraged  at  this,  Don  Francisco  committed  an  act,  the  ego- 
tism of  which  was  so  intense,  that  it  almost  amounts  to  genius. 

He  closed  the  doors  of  the  Tacon  theatre  upon  the  public 
but  retained  the  company. 

The  performances  were  continued  for  himself. 

There  he  sate,  but  for  a  few  friends,  in  solitary  grandeur, 
listening  to  and  enjoying  the  music,  almost  alone.  Now  he 
would  applaud  this,  or  hiss  that  artist — here,  he  would  give 
a  rapturous  encore— there,  he  would  throw  a  magnificent 
bracelet  upon  the  stage,  to  a  pretty  prima  donna — he  himself, 
representing  in  his  own  person  alike,  the  public,  the  manage- 
ment, the  critics  and  the  dead-heads.  It  strikes  me,  my  good 
old  friend,  that  the  grand  cynicism  of  this  conduct  has  never 
been  equalled.  For  this  alone,  do  I  confess,  that  I  almost 
venerate  the  Senor  Francisco  Marty  y  Torrens. 

However,  the  artists  made  acquaintances,  and  these  acquaint- 
ances wished  to  hear  them  in  Opera.  Marty  heard  it,  and, 
doubtless,  chuckled  inwardly.  Externally,  he  was  inexorable. 

7* 


154  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

This  strange^  and,  as  it  seemed  to  the  majority  of  the  public 
in  Havana,  unaccountable  behavior,  raised  their  curiosity  to 
the  highest  pitch.  After  interposing  many,  and,  as  it  ap- 
peared, insurmountable  difficulties,  Marty,  perhaps  weaned  oat 
of  his  solitary  Sybaritism,  consented  to  treat  with  the  aristo- 
cracy of  the  Cuban  capital.  Provided  a  number  of  them  would 
buy  up  the  boxes  of  his  house  for  a  certain  series  of  years,  and 
provided  they  would  make  up  a  purse  each  season,  for  the 
management,  he  was  willing  to  throw  open  the  doors  of  the 
Tacon,  and  furnish  first-class  Operatic  performances.  As  the 
Spanish  Sefioritas  are  exceedingly  fond  of  music,  and  even 
more  partial  to  display,  the  Spanish  Senores  were  obliged,  by 
the  love  of  melody  and  the  terror  of  their  better  halves,  to 
comply  with  these  terms.  Don  Francisco  had  won  his  first 
battle  with  the  Havanese  aristocracy. 

Thanks,  therefore,  to  the  subscription  and  the  compulsory 
subvention,  which  sometimes  amounted  to  $30,000,  Italian 
Opera  flourished  for  a  season  in  Havana. 

In  order  to  show  you,  my  good  Professor,  how  much  Marty 
himself  understood  of  those  musical  matters  on  which,  for  a 
time,  he  had  chosen  to  sit  as  the  sole  judge,  you  will  allow  me 
to  retail  to  you  an  anecdote,  which  has  been  given  me  as  per- 
fectly true. 

Sitting  once,  during  an  operatic  performance,  in  the  first 
row  of  seats,  near  the  Orchestra,  he  remarked  a  horn-player 
looking  at  his  music  without  playing.  For  a  time,  the  pro- 
foundly scientific  Manager  endured  this,  but,  when  some  twenty 
bars  had  passed,  without  bringing  any  signs  of  life  into  the  in- 
strument, he  at  last  lost  his  patience,  and  turned  to  the  unlucky 
horn-player — 

"  Why  the  deuce  don't  you  play,  sir  ?"  he  exclaimed. 

"  Seiior — "  queried  the  instrumentalist. 

"  Why  don't  you  play  ?" 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          155 

Senor,  I  am  counting  my  bars,  now." 

"  Are  yon,  you  lazy  scoundrel  ?  Counting  your  bars,  in- 
deed !  Why  did  you  not  count  them  before  this  ?" 

"  I  am  waiting  before  I  begin,  Senor  !"  said  the  unlucky 
musician,  in  a  marked  tremolo. 

"  Begin  at  once  1"  quoth  Marty. 

"  Senor —  ?"  began  the  man  imploringly. 

"  Begin  !"  repeated  the  impressario,  "  or,  when  pay-day 
comes,  I  shall  count  my  dollars  and  wait  before  I  pay 
you." 

The  threat  was  sufficient.  The  horn  was  raised  to  the 
musician's  mouth,  but  no  sooner  was  the  first  note  blown,  than 
the  Conductor  turned  on  the  instrumentalist  with  a  savage 
look.  The  brazen  tube  dropped  from  his  mouth,  and  then  only 
was  Marty  aware  of  the  error  which  he  had  made.  As  the 
audience  noted  what  had  passed  with  the  usual  quickness  of 
Southern  musical  intuition,  they  applauded  the  unlucky  horn. 
Daggers  were  looked  at  Marty  by  the  incensed  Conductor, 
who  ran  round  to  the  front  of  the  house  at  the  close  of  the 
act. 

What  he  was  about  to  say  to  Don  Francisco  Marty  y 
Torrens,  you  and  I,  my  dear  Fischof,  shall  never  know,  for  the 
Manager  had  departed  that  night  from  the  theatre,  earlier 
than  usual,  and,  on  the  following  morning,  his  season's  salary 
dictated  to  him  a  wise  forbearance. 

As,  however,  it  would  have  been  difficult  to  procure  avail- 
able singers  from  Italy,  and  well  nigh  impossible  to  lure  artists 
of  decided  merit  to  Havana  for  the  few  winter  months,  the 
Senor  Marty  was  obliged  to  engage  his  company  for  a  much 
longer  period  ;  and,  during  the  intervals  that  they  could  not 
remain  in  Cuba,  in  consequence  of  the  great  heat  and  their 
fears  of  the  yellow  fever,  for  two  years  he  used  to  send  them 
to  New  York.  Here,  they  played  in  Castle  Garden,  once  a 


156  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

fort,  afterwards  an  Opera  house,  and,  now,  the  depdt  for  emi- 
grants from  Europe.  While  his  artists  were  no  better  than 
those  we  had  in  New  York,  this  concurrence  was  of  no  mo- 
ment to  the  interests  of  the  New  York  management.  In 
the  summer  of  1850,  however,  Marty  sent  to  this  city  the 
greatest  troupe  which  had  ever  been  heard  in  America.  In- 
deed, in  point  of  the  integral  talent,  number  and  excellence  of 
the  artists  composing  it,  it  must  be  admitted  that  it  has  sel- 
dom been  excelled  in  any  part  of  the  Old  World. 

This  party  consisted  of  three  prime  donne.  These  were 
the  Signore  Steffanone,  Bosio  and  Tedesco.  Its  only  contralto 
was  the  Signora  Vietti.  There  were  three  tenors,  Salvi,  i  et- 
tini  and  Lorini.  Badiali  and  Corradi  Setti  were  the  two  bary- 
tones, while  the  two  lassi  were  Marini  and  Coletti.  At  the 
head  of  this  extraordinary  company  was  the  great  contra- bassist 
(I  call  him  so,  because  he  is  best  known  by  his  wonderful  skill 
on  that  instrument)  Bottesini,  assisted  by  Arditi.  It  would 
be  useless,  my  old  friend,  to  attempt  to  indicate  to  you  the 
excellence  of  this  Company.  You  have  long  since  known  their 
names,  or  been  aware  of  their  standing  as  artists,  in  the  world 
of  Music.  The  greater  portion  of  them  enjoy  a  wide  and  well- 
deserved  European  reputation,  and  their  re-union,  anywhere, 
would  form  an  almost  incomparable  Operatic  troupe. 

Bosio  and  Tedesco  have  since  taken  London,  and  Paris,  and 
St.  Petersburg!!  by  storm.  Steffanone  has  recently  returned  to 
Europe,  and,  in  a  short  time,  we  shall,  in  all  probability,  hear 
of  her  triumphs.  Bettini  has  since  that  period  been  every- 
where acknowledged  in  Italy,  as  its  first  tenor.  Salvi,  Marini, 
and  Badiali  had  established  European  reputations  as  artists  of 
the  very  first  class,  and  these,  too,  long  before  their  arrival  in 
America.  Salvi,  more  especially,  although  inferior  in  voice  to 
Mario,  equalled  him  in  finish  of  style  and  method,  while,  as  a 
mere  actor,  he  most  undoubtedly  at  that  time  much  surpassed 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  157 

him  :  and  Marini  was  known  in  London  as  the  greatest 
Italian  lasso  who  had  ever  sung  there,  with  the  solitary  excep- 
tion of  Lablache. 

This  Company  not  only  created  a  profound  sensation  in 
Xew  York,  but  played  at  something  less  than  half  the  usual 
price. 

The  admission  to  Castle  Garden,  during  their  performances, 
was  no  more  than  fifty  cents. 

In  fact,  it  was  purely  a  matter  of  the  most  perfect  indiffer- 
ence to  Marty,  whether  they  made  him  money,  or  whether 
they  did  not  make  him  money,  during  their  summer  season. 
Their  salaries  were  provided  for  out  of  the  receipts  of  their 
winter  performances  in  Havana,  and  their  brief  visit  to  a  more 
northern  clime  had  no  other  object  than  that  of  increasing 
their  reputation,  in  order  that  such  increase  might  react  upon 
Cuban  society  ;  as  well  as  the  one  of  filling  out  the  summer 
without  permitting  them  to  be  idle,  or  incurring  the  risk  of 
acclimating  such  valuable  personal  property  as  soprani  and 
tenori.  Yellow  fever  is  a  very  dangerous  acquaintance,  and 
the  second  time  it  nods  to  you,  if  you  are  unfortunate  enough 
to  incur  the  risk  of  a  relapse,  in  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  you  are, 
my  good  old  friend,  little  better,  to  use  an  American  expres- 
sion, than  *'  a  gone  coon." 

At  once,  upon  hearing  them,  I  made  up  my  mind,  if  it  were 
by  any  means  possible,  to  secure  them  for  this  city. 

My  determination  to  do  so  was  based  upon  two  important 
reasons. 

First,  it  was  evident  enough  to  any  one  who  was  at  all  con- 
versant with  operatic  matters  in  Europe,  that  neither  New 
York  nor  Havana  would  ever  be  able  to  bring  so  admirable  a 
company  again  together.  While,  secondly,  I  saw  clearly 
enough  that  such  a  company  as  this  was,  if  left  under  the 
management  of  Marty,  would  at  their  present  prices  become  a 


158  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

most  dangerous  and  effective  opposition  to  the  New  York 
management. 

Therefore,  I  decided  upon  entering  into  immediate  commu- 
nication with  the  several  artists  composing  the  troupe. 

This  I  accordingly  did,  and  succeeded  in  securing  all  of  them, 
with  the  single  exception  of  Tedeeco,  for  the  United  States, 
after  the  expiration  of  their  present  engagement  with  Marty. 

With  the  acquisition  of  this  company,  I  began  firmly  to 
believe  that  Italian  Opera  would  be  perpetually  domiciled  in 
my  new  country.  "Man,"  however,  "proposes,  while  Fate 
disposes."  Just  as  difficult,  as  it  would  have  been  to  find 
again,  such  a  number  of  admirable  artists  collected  under  one 
management,  would  it  have  been  to  bring  together  such  a  ca- 
pricious, conceited,  egotistical,  rapacious,  intriguing,  cheating, 
troublesome,  mischievous  and  malicious  set  of  vocalists.  The 
perfect  liberty  which  they  enjoyed  in  New  York,  without  the 
strict  police  regulations  of  either  Italy  or  Havana,  soon  de- 
generated into  impudence,  insolence,  and  the  most  audacious 
contempt  both  for  the  public  who  came  to  listen  to,  and  the 
management  which  paid  them.  But  it  would  take  up  far  too 
much  time  and  space,  my  dear  Professor,  were  my  pen  to  at- 
tempt detailing  to  you  all  their  quarrels,  jealousies  and  intrigues 
amongst  themselves,  or  their  tricks,  plots  and  conspiracies 
against  their  Manager.  Not  only  had  he  (you  must  here  un- 
derstand myself)  to  contend  with  the  unavoidable  difficulties 
of  his  position,  but  he  had  also  to  suffer  the  consequences  re- 
sulting from  their  private  quarrels. 

If  one  prima  donna  happened  to  be  jealous  of  the  applause 
which  had  been  given  another,  she  refused  to  sing,  exactly 
when  she  was  most  wanted,  in  order  to  punish  the  Manager 
for  the  success  which  had  attended  her  rival. 

Should  a  pretty  ballet-girl  decline  listening  to  the  delicate 
propositions  made  her  by  the  primo  lenore,  this  last-named 


OPERA    MANAGER    IN    AMERICA.  159 

artist  would  become  love-sick,  and  declare  himself  too  indis- 
posed to  appear  upon  the  stage. 

Did  the  Opera  in  which  the  barytone  had  a  prominent  part 
create  a  furore,  for  that  simple  reason  would  the  basso  ex- 
pressly contrive  to  kill  the  next  work  which  the  management 
placed  upon  the  stage,  that  he  might  make  me  unmistakably 
appreciate  his  own  importance. 

In  addition  to  this  generic  feature,  each  one  of  them  had  his 
particular  whims  and  caprices. 

One  exception  must,  however,  be  made,  and  this  is  in  favor  of 
the  Signora  Steffanone.  She  was  very  generally  sufficiently 
conscientious.  This  was  perhaps  more  especially  the  case, 
while  there  was  another  prima  donna  in  the  company  capable 
of  treading  in  her  buskins.  She  had  nevertheless  one  decid- 
edly physical  drawback  to  her  undoubted  value,  being  subject 
to  fits  and  convulsions,  which  materially  prejudiced  the  manage- 
ment. These,  I  had  remarked,  never  seized  her  while  upon  the 
stage.  They  generally  chanced  anterior  to  her  advertised  ap- 
pearance before  the  public.  Inquiring  privately  about  these 
attacks,  from  her  physician,  I  ascertained  that  they  ordinarily 
returned  at  stated  intervals,  and  could  almost  be  predicted 
with  a  mathematical  certainty.  These  days  were  therefore 
marked  beforehand,  in  my  Almanac,  with  a  black  line.  Per- 
formances were  set  apart  for  them,  in  which  Steffanone  would 
have  no  necessity  for  appearing.  In  this  manner  and  by  these 
means,  we  managed  to  get  along  very  well,  and  this  continued 
for  a  long  period.  At  length,  Bosio  quitted  the  company, 
and  when  she  did  so,  it  seemed  to  me  that  these  convulsive 
attacks  became  Exceedingly  irregular.  In  consulting  my 
Calendar,  it  appeared  to  me  that  they  were  at  the  very  least 
twice  as  frequent  as  they  had  before  been.  Indeed,  during  the 
late  operatic  season,  when  the  Chevalier  Henry  Wikoff  was 
Acting  Manager  for  the  committee  who  conducted  the  Acade- 


160  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

my,  their  frequency  had  increased  to  a  truly  alarming  extent. 
The  clever  Chevalier,  who  by  his  marvellous  diplomatic  skill 
had  succeeded  in  engaging  her  at  several  hundred  dollars 
larger  salary  than  she  had  ever  been  paid  by  me,  could  neither 
find  out  the  reason  of  nor  prevent  these  repeated  convulsions. 
Whispers  indeed  were  in  circulation  respecting  them,  which  it 
may  be  concluded  never  reached  him.  Otherwise,  his  diplo- 
macy would  certainly  have  been  called  upon  to  prevent  their 
too  frequent  and  continuous  recurrence. 

The  Signora  Angelina  Bosio  was  a  very  talented  and  in- 
dustrious lady,  with  only  one  great  misfortune.  She  had  a — 
husband. 

No  possible  plague  is  there  which  can  be  greater  for  a  luck- 
less Manager  than  those  which  daily  befall  him,  save  the  fact 
of  his  prima  donna,  or  one  of  his  two  or  three,  being  a  married 
woman. 

Sometimes,  we  find  the  husband  of  the  vocalist  is  a  green 
fish,  recently  caught  in  the  army  or  navy,  by  the  French  paste 
and  footlight  glare  upon  the  shrewd  and  experienced  cantatrice. 
She  has  played  her  cards  so  ably,  as  to  induce  the  hapless  lover 
to  offer  marriage.  These  terms  are  the  only  ones  upon  which 
his  suit  for  her  heart  can  possibly  be  received.  Here,  it  is  a 
lucky  and  stalwart  hotel-waiter,  that  enjoys  the  honor  of  being 
promoted  by  marriage  to  the  bed  of  the  popular  favorite.  Nor 
will  you  think,  my  amiable  Fischof,  that  I  am  romancing  in 
hinting  at  this  possibility,  for  you,  at  least,  can  recall  to  your 
memory  the  case  of  one  celebrated  prima  donna,  whose  Fidclio 
is  renowned  wherever  music  is  known,  that  has  picked  up 
her  husband  in  the  aforesaid  condition  oT  life.  Now  and 
then,  a  sighing  oboe  or  a  sentimental  violin,  inspired  by  love 
or  smitten  with  a  desire  not  to  pay  out  of  his  own  pocket  for 
his  brandy- punches,  has  leapt  over  the  foot-lights  and  the 
prompter's  green  umbrella  into  the  arms  of  the  enamored 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          161 

vocalist.  Perhaps,  a  desperate  maestro  di  canto  may  have  ac- 
cepted, as  the  last  resort  against  suicide  or  starvation,  the 
situation  of  husband  to  the  inspired  artist.  Nay  1  I  have  even 
heard  of  one  case,  in  which  the  valet  de  chambre  of  the  lady's 
titled  lover,  who  had  filled  the  honorable  post  of  Mercury  to 
his  master's  liaison,  was  subsequently  of  necessity  promoted  to 
the  nominal  position  of  a  husband,  when  a  marriage  de  con- 
venancc  became  necessary  to  save  her  reputation,  and  to  offer 
the  public  a  formula  to  account  for  the  figure  which  she  was 
making  in  the  jvorld. 

Be  this  as  it  may,  the  first  object  in  the  life  of  a  prima  don- 
na?s  husband  is  to  impress  his  wife  with  a  vivid  sense  of  his 
own  importance  to  her. 

Without  him,  she  would  be  a  comparatively  lost  reputation. 

He  detects  and  brings  to  light  numberless  hidden  trea- 
sures (!)  in  his  wife's  school  of  vocalization,  which  have  until 
now  escaped  the  eyes  both  of  the  Managers  and  the  public. 

It  is  very  possible  that  he  may  not  have  the  slightest  idea 
of  what  singing  really  should  be.  Yet  to  him,  only,  is  it  that 
she  is  indebted  for  any  progress  in  her  Art.  When  she  is  re- 
hearsing with  her  maestro,  he  is  occupied  in  industriously 
beating  time.  Assiduously  does  he  turn  over  the  leaves  of  the 
score  of  her  part — most  carefully  does  he  wipe  the  dust  from 
the  notes  of  the  piano — with  what  forethought  does  he  either 
screw  up  or  screw  down  the  music-stool  to  suit  her  height, 
whether  she  be  tall  or  short.  Carrying  the  inevitable  poodle 
in  the  right  hand,  and  her  clogs  in  the  left,  he  bears  with  him 
the  shawl  over  one  arm  and  a  roll  of  music  squeezed  under  the 
other.  No  sooner  is  the  rehearsal  over,  than  he  runs  for  the 
carriage.  In  nine  cases  out  of  ten,  after  carefully  closing  the 
door  upon  his  spouse  and  her  dcislco,  he  trots  home  rapidly, 
to  see  that  the  soup  is  hot  and  the  champagne  iced,  and  to 
look  after  the  other  ninety-nine  affairs  of  the  menage.  Ever  on 


162  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

the  watch  to  hermeticolly  close  the  doors  and  windows,  he 
never  foregoes  an  opportunity  of  gently  insinuating  that  the 
maestro  owes  far  more  to  the  musical  knowledge  of  his  wife 
than  she  owes  to  him,  and  slightly  hints  that  both  are  under 
immeasurable  obligations  to  himself  for  his  untiring  care  of 
both  their  interests. 

In  addition  to  this,  he  quarrels  with  the  Manager  on  the 
occasion  of  his  wife's  signing  the  contract.  This  is  indeed  an 
inevitable  necessity  for  him.  He  makes  a  thousand  new  and 
unheard-of  demands  upon  the  exchequer  of  the  management, 
amongst  which  are  huge  travelling  expenses,  benefits,  extra- 
.  payments  and  costs  for  himself,  servants,  dogs,  parrots,  as  well 
as  the  cavaliere  servente. 

To  impress  his  wife  with  an  adequate  idea  of  his  own  impor- 
tance, after  the  engagement  has  been  signed  he  picks  up  a 
trifling  difference  with  the  Manager,  which  he  has  the  skill  to 
foster  daily  into  the  proportions  of  a  grave  quarrel.  At  last, 
this  fearful  affair  is  settled,  and  then  does  it  appear  that  the 
exemplary  husband  has  saved  his  most  innocent  wife  from  a 
horrible  conspiracy  which  had  been  expressly  formed  for  her 
ruin.  Of  this  conspiracy,  it  would  of  course  be  utterly  needless 
to  add,  that  the  miserable  Manager  had  most  indubitably  been 
both  part  and  parcel.  While  an  infinitely  more  singular  de- 
duction may  be  drawn  from  the  reports  of  everybody  concern- 
ed in  or  with  it.  He  was  decidedly  fool  enough  to  be  so,  at 
the  complete  sacrifice  of  his  own  interests. 

Such,  be  it  observed,  were  the  claims  for  her  love  and  gra- 
titude, which  the  Signer  Panayotis  di  Xindavelonis  possessed 
upon  his  spouse,  the  Signora  Bosio. 

Tedesco  was  the  only  one  of  the  artists  who  formed  the 
company,  that  quitted  it  instead  of  remaining  with  me. 

Now,  when  she  had  arrived  in  this  country  from  Havana, 
my  much  respected  Professsor,  the  Signora  Tedesco  was  pos- 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  163 

sessed  of  no  husband.  She,  however,  enjoyed  the  care  and 
affection  of  a  near  relative  who  was  immeasurably  worse  than 
anything  I  have  seen  in  the  shape  of  a  spouse  of  any  cantatriee. 
This  relative  was  a  father.  This  father,  I  am  compelled  by 
my  conscience  to  say,  I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt,  descended 
in  a  direct  and  straightforward  line  from  Shylock  of  Venice. 

When  he  came  to  the  theatre  upon  pay-day,  for  the  purpose 
of  receiving  his  daughter's  salary,  he  was  in  the  admirable  and 
thoroughly  delicate  habit  of  subjecting  each  separate  piece  of 
gold  to  a  peculiarly  Jewish  examination  touching  their  Chris- 
tian perfection.  In  a  word,  he  was  in  the  habit  of  carrying 
a  small  pair  of  scales  in  his  breeches-pocket,  with  which  he  veri- 
fied their  respective  weight. 

His  daughter,  Fortunata,  (so  was  she  miscalled,  for  she  was 
unfortunate  enough  in  being  compelled  to  own  her  descent  from 
such  a  sire)  bore,  in  her  turn,  a  singular  resemblance  to  the 
charming  daughter  of  Shylock,  Shakspeare's  Jessica.  As  Jes- 
sica had  done  in  the  days  upon  which  the  great  play-wright 
drew  for  plot  and  character,  she  fell  in  love  with  a  Christian 
who  had  more  or  less  of  the  white  man  in  his  blood,  and  like 
Desdemotia^  she  married  him  in  spite  of  all  opposition,  saying  in 
all  probability  : — 

"  I  saw 's  visage  in  his  mind, 

"  And  to  his  honors  and  his  valiant  parts 
"  Did  I  my  soul  and  fortune  consecrate." 

As  for  the  principal  prime  tmore,  this  was  the  Signor  Salvi. 
He  believed  himself  in  the  Operatic  world,  a  fixed  star  of  the 
first  magnitude,  around  whose  twinkling  lustre  (but  let  me 
beg  his  pardon  for  that  unlucky  adjective  :  it  should  have  been 
a  broader  and  a  larger  one)  all  of  the  other  and  lesser  planets 
had  slowly  and  respectfully  to  revolve.  He  supposed  himself 
to  be  the  brilliant  Sun  from  whom  the  nobodies  who  were  his 
satellites  had  to  obtain  the  whole  of  their  light  and  warmth. 


164  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

If,  perchance,  at  times  he  descended  from  the  height  of  self- 
appreciation  upon  which  he  dwelt,  and  for  a  moment  admitted 
himself  to  be  an  ordinary  mortal  like  you  or  myself,  my  dear 
Fischof,  it  was  only  that  he  might  indulge  in  playing  the  role 
of  a  despotic  sovereign.  Then,  I  felt  that  he  believed  him- 
self to  be  the  Louis  Quatorze  of  the  lyric  drama,  and,  at  times, 
was  under  the  impression  that  I  should  hear  him  exclaim, 
"  IS  Opera,  Jest  moi" 

As  for  the  luckless  Manager,  Signer  Salvi  literally  looked 
upon  him  in  the  light  of  his  own  dignity,  as  his  bondsman. 
Providence  had,  with  a  kindly  and  liberal  hand,  consigned  him 
to  the  primo  tenore,  to  be  plucked,  squeezed  and  sucked  out 
like  a  ripe  and  golden  orange.  When  the  juice  had  satisfied 
him,  he  was  to  be  thrown  away  and  kicked  into  the  street  like 
the  rind  of  that  luscious  fruit.  The  public,  however,  was  a 
necessary  evil.  He  regarded  them  somewhat  as  a  band  of 
savages,  whom  he,  however,  like  a  second  Orpheus,  could  appease 
with  the  wondrous  melody  of  his  voice. 

Like  every  other  despot  by  the  grace  of  God,  he  was  more 
alive  to  flattery  than  he  was  sensible  of  his  duties.  Unlike  any 
other  idol,  he  keenly  enjoyed  the  worshipping  of  his  private 
priests  and  the  adoration  of  his  private  priestesses. 

He  recompensed  their  hymns  in  his  favor,  by  forcing  his 
Manager  (?)  to  engage  them.  They  must  be  provided  for, 
whether  they  were  wanted  or  not,  and,  indeed,  whether  they 
were  good  for  anything  or  not. 

A  flattery  to  Signer  Salvi  was  certain  to  cost  the  Manager 
a  dozen  season-tickets.  The  smallest  service  which  had  been 
rendered  to  this  gentleman,  was  paid  for,  not  out  of  his  own 
purse,  but  l>y  a  place  in  the  Orchestra  or  Chorus,  or  some 
office  which  was  in  the  gift  of  the  Manager.  If,  however,  it 
should  chance  that  some  sacrifice  had  been  made  to  the  will 
or  interest  of  the  autocrat  of  the  Opera,  then  he  lanced  an 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          165 

imperative  Ukase  at  his  aforesaid  slave.  He  was  ordered  to 
engage  the  said  person  for  a  period  of  six,  nine  or  twelve 
months,  as  the  case  might  be,  or  the  whim  might  seize  his  ruler, 
at  so  many  hundred  dollars,  payable  in  advance.  Such  a  do- 
cument is  a  singular  specimen  of  Salvi's  imperative  style  of  com- 
manding obedience  ;  the  menace  of  the  penalty  incurred,  in 
the  event  of  a  non-compliance  with  his  orders,  being  invariably 
contained  in  it.  One  specimen  of  the  many  in  my  possession 
I  give  you,  my  amiable  friend,  that  you  may  see  I  am  not 
exaggerating.  Note  how  short  and  energetic,  in  fact  how 
Napoleonic,  Signer  Salvi's  style  of  issuing  his  orders  was. 

"  Caro  Max,"  * 

Fa  di  tutto  per  iscriturare  la  Sidonia,  altrimenti  io  non  canto 
"  ne  '  Don  Giovanni1,  ne  l  Norma\  ne  altri. 

"A  250  $  il  mese,  e  che  la  scrittura  porti  350  $.  Amen,  e 
"  cosi  sia. 

11 19.  4.  53.  //  two         Salvi." 

Look  at  the  date,  my  venerated  Professor  !  Examine  the 
style.  "  Amen !  e  cosi  sia."  Does  it  not  very  strongly  remind 
you  of  the  style  of  the  great  Corsican  ? 

In  fact,  Fischof,  man  is  reduplicated  in  every  condition.  The 
Borgias  poisoned  and  committed  adultery  upon  a  large  scale. 
How  many  smaller  Borgias  have  been  made  most  unfairly  away 
with  upon  the  scaffold  1  Nero  got  rid  of  his  mother,  and  how 

*  This  letter,  translated,  verbally  reads  thus  : 
"  My  dear  Max, 

"  Do  everything  to  engage  the  Sidonia,  otherwise,  I  shall  neither  sing 
"  in  the  '  Don  Giovanni,'  in  '  Norrna,'  or  in  other  Operas. 

"  At  250  $  per  month,  but  let  the  writing  bear  350  $.  Amen,  and  so 
"be  it. 

"19.  4.  53.  Yours,  SALVI." 


166  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

many  mother-slayers  have  since  that  period  been  rope- throttled 
for  a  similar  crime  !  Therefore  is  it  that  I  feel  I  have  the  right 
to  parallel  Signer  Salvi's  imperative  despatches  to  me,  with  the 
equally  imperative  proclamations  and  despatches  of  a  much 
greater  man. 

On  other  occasions,  he  would  order  that  the  Zanini  (husband 
and  wife)  the  Signorina  Ceriani,  or  the  stage-tailor  Locatelli 
and  his  spouse,  (I  might  not  be  in  need  of  a  stage-tailor  and 
tailoress)  should  be  engaged.  Occasionally,  such  a  command 
for  a  round  half-dozen  of  engagements,  would  come  in  at  once. 
If  not  immediately  complied  with,  the  refusal,  it  was  intimated, 
would  cause  him  a  bilious  attack  (!)  which  he  positively  knew 
beforehand  (!!)  would  last  exactly  thirteen  days. 

This  thirteen  days'  sickness  was  the  highest  penalty  of  lese- 
majeste  in  what  it  will  scarcely  be  a  jest  to  call  the  Code  Sal- 
vinicn. 

You,  my  good  old  friend,  ask  me  "  wherefore  ?" 

Simply  was  it,  that  the  great  tenore  never  accepted  an  en- 
gagement from  any  Manager,  unless,  in  the  event  of  sickness, 
fourteen  days  of  grace  were  given  him.  If  therefore  an  un- 
fortunately refractory  Manager  were  condemned  to  suffer  the 
penalty  for  high  treason  to  his  delicately  voiced  monarch,  it 
was  managed  in  this  fashion.  The  domestic  of  Signor  Salvi 
presented  himself  at  the  bureau  of  the  management,  with  a 
medical  certificate  that  the  vocalist  had  an  attack  of  bronchi- 
tis, yellow  fever,  or  cholera  morbus.  Consequently,  for 
thirteen  days  his  name  could  not  appear  on  the  bills.  On  the 
fourteenth  day,  generally  the  morning  of  what  Operatic  Ma- 
nagers call  an  off-night,  the  tenore  would  announce  his  readiness 
to  sing  again,  if  required.  On  the  fifteenth,  he  would  make 
his  appearance  looking  uncommonly  well  after  thirteen  days 
of  the  cholera,  or  singularly  rosy  after  the  same  period  of 
yellow  fever,  to  draw  his  fortnights  salary  ;  having  only  been 


OPERA    MANAGER    IN    AMERICA.  167 

too  ill  to  sing  for  thirteen  days  of  it.  On  the  day  following, 
he  would  have  a  relapse,  and  continue  in  this  deplorable  con- 
dition for  another  period  of  thirteen  days,  unless  in  the  mean- 
time the  Manager  should  become  a  suppliant  for  peace,  and 
submit  himself  humbly  to  each  and  every  condition  imposed 
upon  him  by  the  triumphant  artist  as  a  punishment  for  his  re- 
bellion against  legitimate  authority. 

The  other  tenore,  Signor  Bcttini,  was  a  young  man  with  a 
robust  and  vigorous  voice,  and  a  manly  figure.  He  had  but 
one  fault.  This,  however,  was  a  serious  one. 

He  had  a  peculiar  relish  for  amusing  himself  with  select 
parties  of  those  whom  he  considered  his  friends  at  " pctits 
soupees  a  la  Regcnce."  Here,  he  would  drown  his  brains  in  a 
Champagne-flask  and  afterwards  lose  his  money  at  the  gambling- 
table  during  whole  nights.  The  natural  consequence  of  this 
would  be,  that  he  was  unable  to  sing  upon  the  following 
evening. 

These  moral  if  not  actual  breaches  of  his  engagement  became 
somewhat  too  frequent.  Therefore,  I  concluded  upon  trying  a 
remedy  with  this  otherwise  amiable  gentleman. 

Two  watchmen  were  accordingly  hired  by  me  to  keep  him 
in  constant  surveillance.  They  were  bidden  to  remain  in  sight 
of  his  residence  ;  to  let  me  know  every  person  who  entered  his 
rooms,  with  the  time  of  his  arrival  and  departure  ;  to  follow 
Bettini  whenever  he  went  out,  whether  4n  the  day  or  night-time, 
and  to  keep  notes  of  the  houses  he  might  go  to,  his  occupation 
there  if  they  could  discover  it,  the  length  of  time  he  remained, 
the  hour  at  which  he  returned,  &c.,  &c.,  &c.  It  must  be  con- 
fessed that  my  two  spies  did  their  work  admirably.  Every 
morning  I  received  from  them,  in  my  office,  the  most  minute 
and  authentic  account  of  Signor  Bettini's  doings.  I  was  as 
well  posted  up  about  them,  as  if  I  had  never  wandered  an  inch 
from  his  elbow.  The  secret  police  of  Vienna  or  of  Paris  have 


168  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

never  been  better  served.  Nay,  I  feel  convinced  that  my  two 
purely  impromptu  officials  might  have  risen  to  high  distinction 
in  the  government-employment  of  this  branch  of  police-duty, 
either  in  France  or  in  Austria. 

As  I  had  expected,  after  a  few  days  had  elapsed,  my  dear 
Fischof,  a  letter  was  brought  to  me,  about  noon,  from  Bettini. 

It  profoundly  regretted  that  a  violent  fever  would  prevent 
him  from  singing  in  the  evening.  He  notified  me  in  time,  that 
I  might  change  the  bill  or  postpone  the  performance. 

Neither  of  these  was  done  ;  but,  in  answer  to  his  note,  he 
received  from  me  an  elaborate  digest  of  all  his  proceedings  for 
the  last  twenty-four  hours.  It  stated,  with  admirable  accuracy, 
the  number  of  Champagne  bottles  which  he  had  emptied  at 
dinner  and  supper,  on  the  preceding  day,  indicating  also  the 
round  sum  which  he  had  flung  away  at  the  faro  table  on  the 
evening  succeeding,  the  hour  at  which  he  had  returned  home, 
together  with  sundry  other  interesting  particulars,  which  it 
would  be  scarcely  decorous  to  mention.  This  paper  I  requested 
him  to  read  and  to  change  any  accidental  misrepresentation 
which  might  occur  in  it,  as  it  was  my  intention  to  have  it 
printed  and  distributed  amongst  the  public  on  that  evening, 
who  would,  by  this  means,  be  fully  possessed  with  the  reasons 
for  his  "  fever"  and  his  consequent  non-appearance. 

In  what  manner  the  Signor  Bettini  received  this  missive  has 
never  been  satisfactorily  revealed  to  me. 

Afterwards,  he  assured  me  that  it  was  a  capital  joke. 

My  spies  were  unable  to  penetrate  into  his  sitting-room  ; 
consequently,  I  am  unable,  my  dear  Professor,  positively  to  as- 
severate that  he  did  not  do  so,  although  it  may  appear  to  me 
rather  dubious. 

Certain  is  it,  that  he  was  visible  upon  the  stage  that  same 
evening.  Never,  probably,  in  his  whole  life,  had  he  sung  better 
than  he  did  upon  this  occasion.  The  paignec  du  main  which 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  169 

I  received  from  him,  was  as  gratefully  affectionate,  as  that 
which  an  amiable  young  Parisian  might,  at  the  present  mo- 
ment, bestow  upon  a  rival  in  an  affair  of  the  heart  who  was 
about  proceeding  to  the  Crimea.  The  means  of  knowing 
whether  it  were  as  genuine,  have  never  been  vouchsafed  to  me. 
However,  the  little  lesson  with  which  my  espionage  had  en- 
abled me  to  accommodate  him,  had  a  very  salutary  effect  upon 
his  subsequent  career  ;  and  his  talents  have  subsequently 
placed  him  in  the  acknowledged  situation  of  the  favorite 
tenore  in  Italy  and  Austria. 

Badiali  was  an  exception  to  the  rest  of  this  Company  in 
many  respects.  As  an  artist  he  was  singularly  conscientious, 
and  rarely,  if  ever,  failed  in  doing  his  duty  to  the  public. 
He,  necessarily,  speedily  became  a  favorite.  However,  his 
extraordinary  meanness  and  avarice,  as  well  as  a  certain  amount 
of  trifling  jealousy,  have  precluded  him  from  winning  the  gener- 
al regard  of  his  professional  brethren. 

Undoubtedly,  next  to  Lablache,  Signer  Marini  must  be 
considered  the  greatest  Italian  basso  at  present  living.  In  the 
conception  of  some  of  his  parts,  such,  for  example,  as  Sylva, 
the  Duke  in  "  Lucretia  Borgia,"  and  Marino  Faliero,  he 
occasionally  displayed  histrionic  talents  worthy  of  a  Talma  or 
a  Kean.  His  voice  was  nevertheless,  occasionally,  unreliable  ; 
while  he  was  frequently  ill-humored,  as  capricious  in  his  af- 
fections as  the  most  capricious  of  the  fairer  sex,  strangely 
peevish  and  splenetic,  and  more  in  the  habit  of  listening  to,  and 
following  the  advice  of,  a  worthless  set  of  Italian  "  suckers,'' 
(the  word,  my  old  friend,  is  a  native  onojn  my  adopted  coun- 
try, and  is  eminently  expressive,  signifying  humanity  when  it 
approximates  to  the  parasitical  feeders  upon  other  and  sturdier 
trees,  or  to  the  jelly-like  and  glutinous  polypi,)  than  that  of  his 
friends,  and,  let  me  add  it,  whether  you  smile  at  the  association 
or  not,  his  Manager. 

8 


170  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

As  for  the  secondary  parts,  they  were,  of  course,  filled 
by  an  inferior  set  of  artists  in  every  respect,  but  one.  They 
had,  were  it  possible,  an  even  greater-  love  for  intrigue  and 
trickery. 

Yet,  in  spite  of  every  fault  which  has  been  scored  against 
them,  and  those  which  my  sufferings  in  their  management 
might  tempt  me,  even  yet,  to  add  to  these — in  spite  of  their 
restless  duplicity,  their  ungracious  treatment  of  myself,  and  the 
want  of  wisdom  shown  in  the  conduct  of  their  relations  with 
the  public,  I  am  obliged  to  say,  and  this  without  the  slightest 
possibility  of  gaining  any  advantage  by  flattering  their  self- 
love,  for  they  have  all  quitted  the  United  States  save  Coletti, 
who  has  married,  and  is,  I  believe,  settled  in  New  York,  that 
this  Company  was,  in  every  respect,  the  very  best  which  has 
ever  been  got  together  upon  this  side  of  the  Atlantic.  Such 
"  stars"  may,  subsequently  to  their  appearance,  have  flashed 
upon  us,  as  Sontag,  Grisi  and  Mario,  or  Alboni.  But,  it 
must  be  remembered,  that  these,  in  every  case,  rose  upon  the 
public  as  merely  isolated  luminaries.  They  stood  completely 
alone.  The  remainder  of  their  separate  troupes  cannot  for  a 
single  moment  be  weighed  in  the  balance  with  the  Havanese 
Company.  This  presented,  in  all  its  details,  the  nearest  ap- 
proach to  perfection  which  has  ever  visited  this  hemisphere. 
You  will  necessarily  understand,  my  dear  Fisehof,  that  I  am 
simply  referring  to  their  qualification  as  artists. 

This  troupe,  consisting,  as  it  did,  not  only  of  the  members 
who  had  actually  sung  in  it,  in  Havana,  but  also  of  many  of 
my  previous  Company,  (Mesdames  Steffanone,  Bosio,  Vietti, 
and  Costini,  with  Mesdemoiselles  Bertucca  and  Truffi,  and  the 
Signori  Salvi,  Bettini,  Lorini,  Marini,  Badiali,  Coletti,  Bene- 
ventano,  with  others,  forming  it,)  I  arranged  should  give 
Operas  in  Castle  Garden,  at  the  low  price  of  fifty  cents  for 
admission. 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN    AMERICA.  171 

To  this  determination  I  was  induced  by  several  rea- 
sons. 

In  the  first  place,  the  major  strength  of  my  vocalists  had 
already  performed  there  at  that  price.  Next,  I  firmly  believed 
that  the  low  price  of  admission  and  the  great  excellence  of  the 
artists  themselves,  would  tend  to  popularize  Opera.  Should  it 
do  so,  it  would  not  only  root  Music  into  the  nation,  my  dar- 
ling desire,  but  would,  from  the  capacity  of  Castle  Garden, 
which  could  hold  more  than  5, 000  persons  comfortably  seated, 
render  it  probable  that  I  might  be  paid  for  the  risk  attendant 
upon  it.  Dreaming  a  golden  dream,  I  fancied  that  with  such 
a  Company  as  this  actually  was,  with  prices  no  higher  than 
the  regular  theatrical  ones,  and  a  large  house,  the  taste  for 
Italian  Opera  might  be  established,  not  amongst  the  "  Upper 
Ten,"  but  in  the  public  heart  of  New  York. 

My  good  and  old  friend,  I  had  made  one  great  mistake.  I 
am  able  to  own  it  without  shame,  because  many  much  greater 
and  more  talented  men  than  myself  have  made  a  similar 
error. 

This  mistake  was  made  in  supposing  that  he  who  sows,  in- 
variably reaps  the  harvest.  Certainly,  I  scattered  the  seed 
then,  but  it  will  remain  for  another  hand  than  mine,  or  another 
time  than  mine  own,  to  gather  in  the  crop.  A  love  for  music 
is  a  thing  that  cannot  bear  fruit  the  same  month  in  which  its 
seeds  have  been  scattered  in  the  ground.  Suffice  it,  that  very 
frequently  did  we  play  before  an  audience  varying  in  number 
from  100  to  150  persons,  scarcely  enough  to  pay  the  mere 
printing  bills  of  the  evening.  When  the  first  three  months 
had  ended,  the  result  of  my  golden  dream,  my  respected  and 
respectable  Fischof,  was  a  clear  and  unmistakable  deficit  of 
$22,000.  The  best  operatic  Company  ever  collected  in  the 
United  States  had  failed,  at  the  lowest  prices  ever  asked  for 
admission  to  such  a  class  of  entertainment  as  that  provided  for 


172  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

the  public,  in  drawing  sufficient  money  to  pay  their  own  sala- 
ries. Believe  me  that,  had  I  then  written  to  you,  my  signa- 
ture would  have  been, 

Your  very  miserable,  &c.,  &c., 

MAX  MARETZEK. 


FIFTH    LETTEE. 

TO    M.    W.    BALFE,    LONDON. 

Musical  Agents  in  New  York — Catherine  Hayes — Lola  Montez — Nib- 
lo's  Garden,  as  an  Opera  House,  and  William  Niblo,  as  a  Manager — 
Opposition — "  Robert  le  Diahle  " — Meyerbeer's  Operas — Origin  of 
Opera — Rossini — Donetti's  Troupe  of  Learned  Dogs  and  Monkeys. 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN  AMERICA.  175 


LETTER  V. 

TO    M.    W.   BALFE,   ITALY. 

NEW  YORK,  September  5,  1855. 
DEAR  FRIEND  : — 

IT  is  now  some  year  and  a  half  since  the  period  at  which 
we  last  saw  each  other.  This  was,  if  you  will  take  the 
trouble  of  recalling  it  to  your  memory,  at  Milan,  and  in  the 
Hotel  de  la  Belle  Venise-  A  lapse  of  very  nearly  five  years 
had  faded,  day  by  day,  over  our  heads,  since  the  time  at 
which  we  had  previously  met.  You  were  then  rounder  and 
larger  in  every  way.  For  myself,  I  was  beginning  to  feel 
the  slight  premonitory  symptoms  of  an  incipient  double-chin. 
Yet  I  was  certainly  as  young  as  ever,  while  you  had  not  lost 
one  jot  of  that  springiness  of  temperament  with  which  you 
had,  so  abundantly,  been  blessed.  Spiritually,  at  all  events, 
do  I  firmly  believe  that  we  were  as,  if  not  more,  youthful 
than  we  had  formerly  been.  Want  of  success  had  not  damped 
my  energies,  as  the  converse  had  not  rendered  yours,  supine. 
As  we  were  chatting  together,  one  day,  after  dinner,  over 
a  glass  or  two  of  that  ruby  juice  which  is  forbidden  to  man 
by  the  Sons  of  Temperance  and  the  Maine  Law,  you  mani- 
fested a  strong  desire  to  visit  America,  in  company  with  your 


176  REVELATIONS  OF    AN 

talented  daughter,  whose  charms,  both  of  voice  and  person, 
will,  I  believe,  soon  place  her  in  the  rank  of  a  leading  prima 
donna. 

I  promised  you,  at  that  time,  to  write  to  you  when  a  favor- 
able moment  for  the  realization  of  your  wish  should  arrive, 
and  volunteered  to  fill  the  post  of  your  correspondent,  for  the 
purpose  of  keeping  you  posted  up  with  regard  to  musical 
doings  and  musical  matters  upon  my  side  of  the  Atlantic.  In 
accordance  with  this  promise,  I  was  going  to  write  to  you,  in 
last  July,  that  stocks  in  the  musical  market  were  on  the  de- 
cline, when,  one  morning,  I  happened,  while  sipping  my  coffee, 
to  turn  over  the  pages  of  one  of  the  New  York  journals. 

There  I  read,  that  "M.  W.  Balfe  had  been  engaged  to 
come  to  America,  for  the  purpose  of  taking  the  place  of  Max 
Maretzek  during  the  next  Operatic  season." 

Let  me  say,  my  dear  friend,  that  I  was  more  than  pleased 
— I  was  delighted  on  reading  this  bit  of  musical  intelligence. 

You  and  my  readers  may  smile,  perchance,  at  this  asser- 
tion. But  let  me  conscientiously  explain  to  you  the  reasons 
of  my  pleasure,  and  you,  at  least,  may  candidly  admit  that  my 
self-valuation  (ah1  of  us  who  are  worth  anything,  have  more 
or  less  of  it)  might  be  highly  gratified  by  this  announcement. 

The  idea  of  my  dismissal  could  only  have  been  originated 
by  some  of  my  personal  enemies,  and  its  realization  could 
only  have  been  effected  by  their  influence  with  the  Directors 
of  the  Academy*  of  Music.  As  for  the  public  at  large,  it 
could  have  had  no  desire  of,  and  no  interest  in  my  removal 
from  the  position  I  had  occupied.  During  seven  years  that 
I  have  been  connected  with  Opera  in  the  United  States,  I 
have  never  failed  in  doing  my  duty  towards  that  public,  to 
the  best  of  my  abilities.  Moreover,  I  may  frankly  flatter 
myself,  that  at  this  moment,  I  still  possess  the  positive  sym- 
pathy and  patronage  of  the  impartial  portion  of  it.  It  was, 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  177 

therefore,  highly  satisfactory  to  me  that  in  carrying  out  their 
efforts  to  replace,  or,  rather,  to  displace .  me,  my  enemies 
should  have  publicly  admitted  that  no  reputation  short  of 
your  own  would  suffice  to  cancel  me  in  public  estimation. 
And,  indeed,  I  should  hope  that  you  also  would  feel  some  de- 
gree of  self-appreciation  in  reflecting  that  I  had  been  your 
assistant,  and,  in  some  sort,  even  your  pupil,  during  the  three 
years  that  you  conducted  the  Orchestra  of  Her  Majesty's 
Theatre  in  London ;  as  these  facts  may  prove  to  you  that 
your  then  youthful  assistant  has  done  you  and  your  high 
reputation  no  discredit. 

But,  not  only  would  my  personal  pride  have  been  satisfied 
in  your  engagement. 

In  you,  I  saw,  instead  of  a  powerful  and  dangerous  rival, 
the  very  avenger  whom  I  at  this  time  needed. 

The  crimes,  for  which  I  had  been  indicted  by  the  advisers 
of  the  last  management  of  the  Academy  of  Music,  were  a 
too  great  power  over  the  members  of  my  Orchestra  and 
the  Chorus ;  too  much  influence  with  the  artists  themselves ; 
a  disposition  to  protect  the  rights  and  interests  (we  all  have 
our  rights  and  interests,  my  good  friend,  whether  in  Repub- 
lican America,  Aristocratic  England,  or  Imperial  Russia)  of 
the  lower  employes  of  the  Academy ;  as  well  as  an  undis- 
guised contempt  for  the  Art-degrading  braggadocio  of  a 
certain  Chevalier  d'lndustrie,  who  was  unfortunately  en- 
gaged, during  the  last  season,  as  the  acting  Manager.  "  Un- 
fortunately," I  say,  and,  what  is  more,  "  unfortunately  for 
the  management,"  as  in  other  hands,  "William  Tell"  and 
"  II  Trovatore "  with  the  success  that  they  had,  must  have 
left  a  considerable  balance  in  favor  of  the  treasury  of  the 
establishment.  Now,  knowing  well,  by  personal  experience, 
your  own  temper,  and  your  own  feelings — knowing  also  your 
own  position  as  a.  maestro — I  foresaw  that  they  were  only 

8* 


178  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

making  their  way  "out  of  the  frying-pan"  to  fall  "into  the 
fire."  As  for  the  probable  material  loss  which  your  pre- 
sence in  this  country  might  have  occasioned  me,  let  me  con- 
fess to  you,  that  in  thinking  of  it,  I  cast  my  eyes  across  the 
map  of  the  United  States.  Curiously,  as  I  had  never  before 
done,  did  I  examine  the  relative  proportions  between  the  city 
of  New  York  and  the  length  and  breadth  of  this  Continent. 
After  this  careful  scrutiny,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that 
room  and  space  for  both  of  us  might  in  all  probability  be 
found  here.  It  appeared  to  me  in  some  degree  probable, 
that  my  reputation  in  America,  as  well  as  my  American 
friends  might  possibly  have  been  sufficient  to  enable  me  to 
enter  upon  some  other  musical  speculation,  and  that  your  un- 
dertaking the  musical  direction  of  the  Academy  would  have 
been  no  impervious  obstacle  to  the  continuance  of  our  friendly 
intercourse  of  some  ten  years'  standing. 

Soon  afterwards,  however,  I  ascertained,  much  to  my  dis- 
appointment, that  the  whole  of  this  story  was  a  mere  in- 
vention. 

It  had  been  framed  in  order  to  frighten  me  into  greater 
pliancy,  by  one  of  those  highwaymen  upon  the  road  of  Art, 
who  had  the  intention  of  laying  hold  of  the  management  of 
the  Academy  for  the  present  season  with  his  own  fingers, 
and  putting  it  into  his  own  pocket. 

The  knowledge  of  this  fact  was,  of  itself,  amply  sufficient 
to  induce  me  to  refuse  any  connection  with  the  Academy  of 
Music,  in  case  this  individual  should  hold  any  "official  posi- 
tion" in  it,  and  to  raise,  or  determine  upon  raising  a  powerful 
opposition,  the  moment  his  notorious  musical  intrigues  should 
obtain  for  himself  an  actual  position  in  its  management.  This 
determination  is  it  which,  I  flatter  myself,  has  had  a  consi- 
derable influence  in  preventing  his  success.  The  manage- 
ment is  again  in  most  thoroughly  respectable  hands.  His 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  179 

position  in  connection  with  it,  is  nameless,  and  I  have  been 
re-engaged  as  the  Musical  Director  and  Conductor  attached 
to  the  establishment. 

From  the  reasons  which  have  been  indicated  to  you,  my 
dear  Balfe,  I  regret  that  the  announcement  of  your  intended 
or  projected  arrival  did  not  arise  from  a  nobler  motive,  and 
had  no  more  credible  origin. 

Believe  me,  when  I  say,  that  I  should  have  hailed  your 
arrival  in  this  country  with  the  most  unbounded  satisfaction. 

Should  you  still  retain  the  intention  you  expressed  to  me, 
when  we  last  met,  of  visiting  the  United  States,  will  you 
allow  me  to  give  you  a  few  words  of  caution  ?  These  are, 
by  all  means,  to  have  nothing  to  do  with  the  class  of  men 
who  denominate  themselves  musical  agents  or  musical  cor- 
respondents, in  or  for  America.  Expose  yourself  in  no  way 
to  their  meddling  or  interference  with  your  concerns,  but 
visit  us  yourself. 

It  may  be  presumed  that  you  have  seen  enough,  and  had 
sufficient  experience  of  the  theatrical  agents  and  correspond- 
ents in  Italy,  to  measure  them  at  their  right  value. 

But,  my  friend,  you  cannot  compare  for  one  moment  the 
Italian  with  the  American  branch  of  the  same  genus.  It  is 
true,  that  the  Italian  correspondent  carries  out  a  regular 
artistic  slave-trade  under  the  protection  of  the  local  authori- 
ties. The  infamous  extortions,  abuses,  impositions  and 
degrading  domination  practised  in  Italy,  by  these  industriels, 
upon  artists,  might  furnish  the  rough  material  for  a  book 
which,  if  well  wrought  up,  would  surpass  in  interest  the 
stirring  scenes  of  the  Romance  (!)  penned  by  that  worthy 
dealer  in  fiction,  Mrs.  Beecher  Stowe.  Instead  of  "  Uncle 
Tom's-  Cabin,"  let  me  advise  some  well-informed  writer  of 
fiction  to  trace  the  graphic  outlines  of  a  verbal  picture, 
which  may  be  denominated  the  "  Boudoir  of  a  Prima  Donna." 


180  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

Let  him  describe,  and  this  too  with  a  faithful  and  fearless 
pen,  the  life,  the  martyrdom,  and  the  trials  and  sufferings  of 
those  vocalists  who  have  unfortunately  fallen  into  the  hands 
of  an  Italian  merchant  in  musical  flesh.  Let  him  explain  to 
the  public  how  they  have  been-  sold  and  resold,  at  so  much 
per  note,  without  the  formality,  at  times,  even  of  requiring 
their  own  consent.  Let  him  narrate  in  what  manner  the 
cash  for  which  their  voices  have  been  disposed  of,  has  swollen 
other  pockets  than  their  own,  while  they  have  been  left 
voiceless  and  moneyless,  exposed  to  the  bitter  chances  of 
tliis  world. 

But  let  him  do  this  as  he  may — let  talent,  and  wit,  and 
shrewdness  run  from  the  point  of  his  pen — let  him  evince 
the  keenest  of  knowledges  of  human  nature,  yet  would  I, 
my  dear  friend,  defy  him,  save  by  positive  experience,  to 
arrive  at  a  due  recognition  of  the  various  rascalities  of  the 
American  musical  agent. 

In  justice  to  my  adopted  country,  allow  me  to  tell  you,  my 
good  Balfe,  that  he  is  almost  invariably  of  foreign  birth. 
German,  English,  French,  or  Irish  he  may  be,  but  rarely  is 
he  a  bona-fide  out-and-out  American. 

The  Italian,  almost  invariably,  does  his  business  openly 
and  in  the  broad  daylight.  He  speculates  simply  upon 
artistic  poverty  or  folly.  The  miserable  vocalist  who  sells 
himself  or  herself,  knows  beforehand  what  he  or  she  has  to 
expect.  Knowing  themselves  to  be  the  victims  of  their  own 
necessities,  chance  may  have  given  them  a  voider  and  a 
constitution  strong  enough  to  resist  their  slavery,  and  to 
outlive  its  term  of  labor.  Then,  they  may  be  able  to  work 
upon  their  own  account.  That  reputation  which  the  musical 
slaveholder  had  created  for  his  bondsman  or  bondswoman, 
may  yet  turn  out  of  some  advantage  to  them. 

Afraid  to  act  in  an  open  and  straightforward  manner,  the 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  181 

musical  agent  in  the  United  States  lies  in  ambush  for  the 
unsuspecting  stranger  he  has  marked  as  his  prey.  Like 
the  Vampyre,  who  plays  such  a  prominent  part  in  Hungarian 
legendary  lore,  he  fans  the  artist  to  slumber  with  his  flattery, 
and  leaves  him  not,  until  the  last  drop  of  blood,  i.  e.  of  money, 
has  been  sucked  out  of  him.  As  the  Boa-Constrictor,  when 
he  has  enveloped  his  victim  in  his  coils,  he  licks  his  or  her 
acuteness  all  over  with  his  drivelling  tongue,  until  it  is  at  last 
unable  to  detect  his  dishonesty.  Then  he  swallows  the  luck- 
less vocalist's  entire  success,  and  retires  for  the  summer 
months  to  sleep  himself  into  renewed  activity  for  the  follow- 
ing autumn. 

The  Italian  agent's  own  interest  does  not  allow  his 
victim's  reputation  to  be  starved  into  inanition.  Here,  the 
agent,  after  having  ruined  his  client,  is/haunted  with  the 
dread  of  exposure.  He,  consequently,  attempts  to  slay  him 
or  her  with  the  poison  of  calumny.  Not  satisfied  with  the 
booty  he  has  secured,  he  endeavors  to  cut  the  throat  of  the 
artist  whose  pockets  he  has  plundered  with  the  sharp  edge 
of  slander. 

Beware,  my  beloved  friend,  then,  how  you  suffer  yourself 
to  be  inveigled  within  the  coils  of  an  operatic  agent  in 
America. 

He  will  undertake  to  insure  your  success.  But,  beliere 
me,  it  will  be  done  with  your  own  money,  and  very  decidedly 
for  his  own  interests.  Firstly,  he  will  cause  a  monster 
"  serenade"  to  be  given  to  you.  It  will  be  enacted  under 
your  windows,  at  nine  or  ten  o'clock  in  the  evening,  and  will 
be  attended  with  prodigious  enthusiasm.  You  will  retire  to 
your  couch,  and  wrapped  in  pleasant  slumbers,  you  will 
dream  of  that  love  for  Art,  and  consequently  for  the  artist, 
which  has  taken  up  its  home  bodily  in  the  New  World.  As 
you  are  sitting  in  your  room,  the  next  morning,  enveloped 


182  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

in  your  role  de  chambre  and  soaking  your  slice  of  dry  toast 
in  your  coffee,  your  pleasant  convictions  respecting  the 
ovation  of  the  preceding  evening  will  be  seriously  disturbed. 
The  bill  for  the  serenade  will  be  presented  to  you.  You  will 
find  that  each  musician  costs  you  about  ten  dollars,  while 
the  enthusiasm  is  collaterally  valued  at  two  dollars  per  pair 
of  lungs.  Thus,  every  piece  of  music  to  which  you  had 
listened  with  such  a  delighted  and  delightful  patience,  in- 
cluding "Yankee  Doodle"  (which  you  are  bound  to  express 
your  admiration  of),  costs  you  about  twenty-five  dollars, 
while  each  "  Vivat"  may  be  rated  at  some  fifty  cents. 

As  a  mere  matter  of  course,  this  money  passes  through 
the  agent's  hands,  and,  by  a  singular  chance,  one  half  at  the 
least  of  it,  is  placed  in  his  own  pocket. 

In  the  second  place,  he  will  have  a  brief  sketch  of  your 
biography,  (what  does  it  matter  to  you,  that  it  is  filled  with 
impossible  and  improbable  lies?)  anecdotes  of  your  career 
(you  need  not  trouble  to  detail  them  to  him),  as  well  as  all 
kinds  of  puffs,  prepared  and  published.  These,  be  it  ob- 
served, the  press  of  New  York  will,  with  very  few  excep- 
tions, most  kindly  insert,  in  the  belief  that  they  are  forward- 
ing your  interests,  for  nothing.  They  know  not  that  while 
they  are  doing  it  with  the  idea  of  assisting  you,  they  are 
actually  filling  his  purse.  He  will  make  you  account  to  him 
for  each  line  of  your  biography,  in  every  paper  it  has  ap- 
peared in,  at  the  rate  of  some  five  or  six  cents. 

Nay !  not  only  will  he  expect  you  to  pay  hiifc  for  that 
which  he  had  procured  without  any  payment,  but  will  actually 
hint  to  you  that  he  ought  to  receive  a  handsome  present,  as  a 
mark  of  your  esteem  for  his  invaluable  services,  and  your 
approbation  of  his  integrity. 

On  the  evening  preceding  your  debut,  this  conscientious 
individual  will  urge  upon  your  attention  the  necessity  (with 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  183 

him,  it  is  a  paramount  one)  of  filling  your  house  or  concert- 
room  with  enthusiastic  dead-heads.  You  believe  him,  and 
allow  him  to  operate  for  you  in  this  comparatively  new  branch 
of  your  musical  career.  On  the  morning  following  your  ap- 
pearance, you  are  astounded,  in  consequence,  to  hear  that 
your  crowded  audience  consisted  of  1675  of  these  kindly 
supernumeraries,  and  132  of  the  paying  public ;  while,  at  the 
same  time,  instead  of  having  your  previously  fancied  receipts 
accounted  for,  you  receive  another  bill  from  him  for  claqueurs, 
crowns,  bouquets,  and  other  ovations,  you  had  conceived  spon- 
taneously offered  to  your  own  talent. 

These,  and  manreuvres  of  a  similar  class,  are  repeated  on 
each  occasion  when  you  arrive  in  a  new  city ;  for  to  you  they 
are  new  cities,  although  by  no  means  so  to  your  agent. 

At  length,  after  a  few  months  have  expired,  your  patience 
gives  way.  You  turn  upon  him,  and  ask  for  what  you  have 
been  toiling,  and  sacrificing  your  money,  your  time  and  your 
labor.  He  will  distend  his  eyes  with  a  stare  of  injured  inno- 
cence, and  answer  that  he  too  has  labored  by  day  and  night, 
simply,  that  he  might  have  the  undeniable  glory  of  preparing 
your  ultimate  (!)  success. 

Necessarily,  you  are  unwilling  any  longer  to  "foot"  the 
losses  incurred  through  his  agency. 

From  that  moment,  your  former  agent  becomes  your  open 
enemy.  He  declares  that  he  has  slaved,  to  insure  your  suc- 
cess, for  nothing.  In  a  word,  he  asserts  that  he  has  not  been 
paid  for  his  time,  or  for  his  unparalleled  devotion  to  you  and 
to  your  interests.  He  says,  everywhere,  that  the  reputation 
you  enjoy,  and  have  enjoyed,  is  owing  entirely  to  the  skill  he 
has  displayed  in  its  manufacture.  Your  excellent  houses 
would  never  have  been  filled,  but  for  his  management  and 
his  dead-heads.  Perhaps  he  even  goes  still  farther,  and 
asserts  that  your  execution,  (should  you  be  a  vocal  artist) 


184  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

or  your  manipulation  (if  you  chance  to  be  an  instrumental 
one)  is  principally  due  to  his  advice  and  criticism.  As 
a  return  for  his  sacrifices,  •  his  toil,  and  his  losses,  what 
have  you  repaid  }iim  with  ?  He  grieves  to  say  it — he  may 
possibly  weep  as  he  does  so — you  have  repaid  him  with  the 
basest  ingratitude. 

Therefore,  my  dear  Balfe,  let  me  entreat  you,  if  ever  you 
should  come  to  America,  to  beware  of  suffering  yourself  to 
be  trepanned  by  an  Operatic  Agent. 

Possibly,  their  nuisance  has  latterly  somewhat  abated.  But, 
at  the  period  during  which  the  reputation  of  Jenny  Lind  was 
in  the  ascendant,  they  actually  swarmed  upon  us  as  mosqui- 
toes do  in  the  months  of  August  and  September. 

The  very  call-boys  in  the  theatres  were  ambitious  of  be- 
coming Barnums.  Not  a  hungry  teacher  of  the  piano,  nor  a 
theatrical  check-taker,  but  had  a  longing  to  try  his  hand  at 
the  great  game  of  sowing  nothing  and  reaping  dollars.  There 
was  not  a  dealer  in  concert-tickets  but  would  have  given  the 
hair  from  his  head  to  gather  money  by  the  speculation  in 
operatic  stars.  Many  really  talented  artists  were  induced,  by 
the  stories  told  them  by  embryo  speculators  of  this  stamp,  to 
visit  America,  and  necessarily  fell  into  the  trap  laid  for  their 
attractions. 

Amongst  others,  was  your  beautiful,  spiritual,  and  genial 
countrywoman,  Catherine  Hayes. 

She  was  engaged  by  an  association  of  such  would-be  Bar- 
nums, who,  as  I  believe,  intentionally  placed  at  their  head  an 
inexperienced  and  inoffensive  entrepreneur  of  the  name  of 
Wardwell.  I  say,  intentionally,  for  they  kept  sedulously  in 
the  background.  It  appears  to  me,  now,  when  I  reflect  upon 
it,  like  a  hungry  set  of  wolves  draping  themselves  in  a  sheep- 
skin. They  borrowed  Mr.  Wardwell's  name,  that  they  might 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN    AMERICA.  185 

the  more  readily  and  easily  "humbug"  the  public,  and  take 
in  Catherine  Hayes. 

However,  in  a  pecuniary  point  of  view,  this  enterprise 
utterly  failed. 

Remember,  that  I  am  not  now  speaking  of  the  failure  of 
the  Irish  soprano.  Since  she  divorced  her  interests  from 
theirs,  it  has  been  told  me  that  she  has  succeeded,  and  I  have 
every  reason  to  believe  this.  In  California,  Australia,  and 
India,  she  has  alike  gathered  in  a  golden  reward  for  her  un- 
doubted talent.  But,  with  them,  the  speculative  engagement 
of  her  voice  came  to  an  unlucky  ending.  For  this,  there 
were  numerous  reasons.  In  the  first  place,  you  will  remem- 
ber an  old  proverb,  which  exists  in  the  language  you  were 
born  to,  as  well  as  in  mine  own.  It  is  this,  Balfe,  and  is 
uncommonly  expressive — "  too  many  cooks  spoil  the  broth." 
Now,  if  one  agent  is  enough  to  ruin,  in  a  general  point  of 
view,  the  chance  for  success  of  a  single  artist,  only  imagine 
how  this  must  be  quadrupled  or  quintupled  when  the  number 
of  them  amounts  to  a  round  half-dozen,  speculating  under  the 
thin  mask  of  a  single  well-meaning  and  honest  man.  In  the 
second  place,  they  showed  their  want  of  a  knowledge  of  their 
own  country,  or  that  to  which  they  were  at  the  time  belong- 
ing, by  the  attempt  to  create  an  excitement  in  favor  of  the 
lady  they  had  engaged,  by  appealing  to  the  patriotism  of  the 
Irish  portion  of  our  population.  This  naturally  produced  a 
want  of  confidence  in  the  abilities  of  the  fair-haired  Cathe- 
rine, and,  soon  after,  a  decided  reaction  against  her  on  the 
part  of  the  American  public.  Finally,  these  speculators  were 
purely  without  the  slightest  inventive  genius.  They  attempted 
to  follow  in  Barnum's  course,  by  faithfully  planting  their  feet 
in  the  foot-prints  he  had  left  behind  him.  His  tactics  were 
sedulously  and  most  indiscreetly  followed  with  scrupulous 
exactitude.  They  forgot  that  he  had  already  worn  them  out. 


186  REVELATIONS    OP  AN 

Their  effect  had  been  already  lost.  Thus,  one  of  their 
greatest  errors  was  the  attempt  to  proclaim  the  "  holy  im- 
maculacy" of  their  prima  donna.  She  may  have,  in  truth, 
been  everything  which  P.  T.  B.  had  proclaimed  Jenny  Lind 
to  be,  but  this  "  puff "  had  succeeded  for  Jenny,  on  the  score 
of  its  rich  and  unexampled  novelty.  The  "  Prince  of  Hum- 
bugs "  had  been  accustomed  to  deal  in  all  sorts  of  curiosities, 
and  this  time  he  had  discovered  a  new  one.  In  the  repetition 
of  this  "  puff,"  however,  its  attraction  had  been  lost.  The 
public,  once  entrapped,  were  not  to  be  caught  a  second  time. 
Once,  they  had  admired  in  a  vocalist  those  qualities,  and 
estimated  those  virtues  which  might  be  found  in  almost  every 
private  family,  among  their  own  wives  and  daughters.  Now, 
they  felt  that  an  artist  had  to  depend  simply  upon  his  or  her 
own  artistic  excellence,  for  artistic  success.  The  fact  was 
again  recognized  by  them,  that  private  goodness  is  not  a 
quality  which  demands  adulation.  It  is  nothing  more  than  a 
mere  duty. 

Not  a  doubt  now  exists  upon  my  part,  my  good  Balfe,  but 
that  Catherine  Hayes  could  have  stood  the  test  of  the  severest 
criticism. 

As  a  vocalist,  she  might,  without  losing  a  single  laurel, 
have  been  named  with  almost  any  one  of  her  contemporaries. 
No  such  blundering  attempt  was  needed,  to  drape  her  ex- 
cellencies with  the  mantle  of  morality,  which,  to  tell  the  truth, 
had  somewhat  soiled  in  the  hands  of  its  original  inventor, 
and  frayed  its  edges  upon  the  person  of  her  for  whom  he 
had  in  the  first  place  shapen  it. 

Besides  these  causes  of  her  ill  success,  there  was  another. 
This  was,  I  need  scarcely  say,  perceptible  enough  to  our 
public,  who  are  by  no  means  such  ignoramuses  in  matters  of 
Art  as  it  has  been  the  fashion  to  represent  them  in  Europe. 

The  troupe  which  accompanied  Miss  Hayes  to  the  United 


OPERA  MANAGER   IN  AMERICA.  187 

States  was  by  no  means  conspicuous  for  its  first-rate  talent. 
It  consisted  of  Messrs.  Mengis,  Augustus  Braham,  and 
Lavenu.  Mengis,  you  know,  had  been  an  unsuccessful  tenor, 
and  when  his  upper  notes  had  failed  him,  had  transmuted 
himself  with  the  remainder  into  an  incomplete  barytone.  As 
for  Augustus  Braham,  -he  had  been  an  officer  in  the  English 
army,  and  had  quitted  it  with  a  reliance  on  a  fair  tenor  voice, 
and  his  patronymic,  to  endorse  him  as  a  vocalist.  Lavenu 
was  a  good-fellow,  with  small  claims  to  rank  as  a  Conductor, 
for  anything  save  quadrille-music.  Now,  when  this  com- 
pany was  compared  with  that  which  had  assisted  Jenny  Lind 
— when  Benedict  and  Lavenu  were  named  together,  when 
Mengis  was  measured  with  Beletti,  and  the  Brahamling  had 
his  vocal  inches  counted  off  against  those  of  Salvi,  the 
result  could  scarcely  remain  doubtful.  It  was  also  very 
greatly  inferior  to  the  Havana  Opera  troupe,  who  were  at 
this  time  playing  under  my  direction  in  New  York  and 
Philadelphia.  This  fact,  those  who  had  the  charge  of 
Catherine  Hayes  and  the  artists  who  had  accompanied  her, 
soon  found  out,  and  it  was  thought  necessary  by  them  to 
add  a  portion  of  my  attractions  to  the  only  attractive  part 
of  their  company — Catherine  Hayes  herself. 

Accordingly,  one  morning,  a  double-faced  and  double- 
tongued  member  of  the  fraternity  of  musical  agents  paid 
me  a  visit.  His  purpose  was  to  propose  an  arrangement 
between  myself  and  the  Wardwell  party,  by  which  I  should 
lend  the  services  of  some  of  my  best  artists  to  the  Hayes 
Concerts.  The  terms  to  which  we  eventually  came,  when 
this  had  been  discussed  and  agreed  upon  between  us,  were 
$5,000  per  month. 

The  contract  was  duly  drawn  up  and  signed,  and  I  allowed 
them  to  make  use  of  the  tenors  Bettini  and  Lorini,  the  bary- 
tone Badiali,  and  the  basso  Marini,  with  Madame  Bertucca- 


188  EEVELATIONS    OP  AN 

Maretzek  as  a  soloist  on  the  harp.  This  they  did,  both  at 
the  Concerts  in  New  York  and  Boston.  Of  course,  with  such 
an  entourage,  the  indisputable  talent  of  Miss  Hayes,  and  her 
fresh  voice,  produced  the  required  effect. 

In  the  mean  time,  I  had  paid  the  salaries  of  these  artists, 
and  had  advanced  their  necessary  hotel  expenses. 

But  when,  at  the  termination  of  the  first  month  of  their 
services,  I  applied  to  Mr.  Wardwell  for  the  stipulated  re- 
muneration, I  was  not  only  paid  (the  only  payment  that  I 
could  induce  him  or  his  employers  to  make  me,  of  their  own 
accord)  with  abuse,  but  was  actually  accused  of  having 
intrigued  against  Catherine  Hayes,  and  having  done  my  best 
to  ruin  her  reputation  in  this  country.  He,  apparently, 
would  not  understand,  or  possibly  was  not  allowed  to  do  so 
by  the  agents  in  whose  behalf  he  was  ostensibly  acting, 
that  $5,000  per  month,  in  aid  of  my  expenses,  was  the  best 
security  he  could  have  had  to  insure  my  support  to  his  ex- 
ertions. While  it  was  unpaid  me,  should  I  not  have  been  a 
fool,  my  dear  friend,  to  have  in  any  way  attempted  to  injure 
her  chance  of  filling  his  treasury? 

This  necessitated  me  to  go  to  law  with  him.  And  here  let 
me  give  you  another  word  of  advice,  Balfe.  The  knowledge 
from  which  it  comes  has  been  rather  expensively  acquired, 
but  believe  me,  it  is  none  the  less  valuable,  that  Max 
Maretzek  has  paid  to  obtain  it.  Should  you  visit  this 
country,  never  think  of  going  to  law  in  it. 

After  years  of  law-suits  and  their  constant  costs,  I  obtained 
from  one  of  the  employers  of  Mr.  Wardwell  the  sum  of 
$600. 

This  was  all  I  ever  got  from  them  for  the  services  of  my 
artists.  Yet  I  had  actually  disbursed  some  $3,800  in  that 
month,  for  the  salaries,  hotel  bills,  and  travelling  expenses 
of  those  very  artists.  They  had  assisted  Catherine  Hayes  in 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          189 

these  concerts,  given  on  behalf  of  "Wai-dwell  and  the  invisi- 
ble Company  behind  him.  But  for  their  services  I  literally 
received  something  less  than  one-sixth  of  the  sum,  which  I 
had  paid  with  the  view  of  assisting  them,  at  the  same  tune 
that  I  was  insuring  a  portion  of  my  own  operatic  season 
from  actual  loss. 

At  length,  their  prima  donna  herself  got  tired  out  with 
their  constant  inefficiency  and  ignorance  of  musical  matters. 
She,  consequently,  broke  her  engagement  with  Cramer  and 
Beale  of  London,  through  whom  she  had  been  re-leased  to 
them,  not,  however,  without  being  instigated  to  this  breach 
of  contract  by  some  other  musical  agents,  who  meddled  in 
the  matter  with  the  view  of  securing  her  for  themselves. 
These,  as  it  afterwards  turned  out,  did  not  succeed  in  their 
purpose.  She  fell  into  the  hands  of  Messrs.  Kemp  and 
Bushnell. 

This  loss  of  $5,000,  added  to  those  of  my  disastrous 
Opera  season  at  Castle  Garden,  which  have  been  detailed  in 
a  former  letter  to  Professor  Fischof  (if  I  am  right,  an  old 
acquaintance  of  yours),  began  very  seriously  to  embarrass 
me. 

However,  I  would  not  yet  despair.  You  know,  my  good 
Balfe,  that  the  musical  element  in  the  mental  constitution  of 
man  is  in  all  cases  singularly  hopeful. 

Consequently,  I  divided  my  large  and  powerful  company, 
and  began  for  my  third  year  with  one  portion  of  it  at  the 
Astor  Place  Opera  House,  while  I  sent  another  section  of  it 
to  travel  in  the  Southern  States.  My  object  was,  at  the 
close  of  my  regular  season  in  New  York,  to  meet  them,  and 
unite  both  portions  of  my  troupe,  with  the  intention  of 
making  a  trip  to  Mexico. 

Before  I,  however,  narrate  the  adventures  of  my  ventur- 
ous speculation,  for  a  man  who  was  at  the  time  revolving 


190  REVELATIONS    OF  AN 

round  the  yawning  jaws  of  ruin,  a  task  imposes  itself  upon 
my  pen.  This  is  the  mention  of  another  celebrity  of  world- 
wide reputation,  who,  attracted  by  the  stories  of  the  fabulous 
amount  of  profits  attendant  upon  Jenny  Lind's  visit  to  these 
shores,  had  also  decided  upon  honoring  us  with  her  presence. 
Need  you  be  told  that  this  was  the  Countess  Von  Lansfeldt- 
Hea-d,  ne  or  self-christened  (it  would  be  impossible  for 
you  or  myself  either  to  say  or  to  divine  which)  Lola 
Montez — the  female  Harry  the  Eighth,  in  all,  at  least,  but 
the  decapitation  of  her  very  numerous  legitimate  and  illegi- 
timate spouses. 

Sickened  out  with  Europe,  disgusted  with  the  effete  and 
enervated  human  race  of  the  Old  World,  she  passed  into  the 
New  one. 

Her  main  object  was  necessarily  the  golden  approbation 
which  Barnum  had  so  tangibly  brought  before  the  dazzled 
eyes  of  the  children  of  the  elder  hemisphere.  Her  purely 
secondary  one  -was  to  search  for  a  new  candidate  for  the 
matrimonial,  though  somewhat  aged  charms,  which  had  been 
honored  by  the  embraces  of  Royalty  when  in  its  dotage. 

"  She  came,  she  saw,"  but,  unlike  him  who  passed  the  Rubi- 
con, she  did  not  conquer.  On  the  contrary,  she  ingloriously 
failed. 

Do  not,  however,  for  one  instant  imagine,  that  her  failure 
was  to  be  attributed  to  a  too  complete  imitation  of  the  Ma- 
chiavelian  tactics  of  the  illustrious  P.  T.  B.  By  no  means 
was  she  likely  to  make  too  great  a  show  of  virtue  and  mo- 
rality. On  the  contrary,  she  attempted  to  play  the  same 
game  which  was  afterwards  perfected  in  the  singular  suc- 
cess of  Father  Gavazzi.  Yes,  my  good  Balfe,  she  announced 
herself  to  the  New  "World  as  a  victim.  She  had  been  (so 
at  least  did  she  say)  ruined  by  Jesuitical  and  Diplomatic  in- 
trigue. Had  she  been  at  all  able,  or  had  she  possessed  the 


OPEKA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          191 

inclination  to  veil  her  previous  character,  she  must  undoubt- 
edly have  succeeded.  Nay !  had  she  but  kept  diplomacy  in 
the  background,  she  might,  in  spite  of  that  previous  and  no- 
torious reputation,  have  done  so.  Unfortunately,  diplomats 
and  dancers  have  been  too  often  suspiciously  linked  together 
in  the  eyes  of  the  world.  Sometimes  one,  and  sometimes 
the  other,  and  not  unfrequently  both  are  victimized,  although, 
to  tell  the  truth,  the  latter  occurrence  may  be  regarded  as 
somewhat  of  a  rarity.  Consequently,  the  public  looked  with 
suspicion  on  all  that  was  asseverated  by  her  agents.  They 
valued  the  persecution  she  claimed  as  portion  of  her  pre- 
vious history  at  its  right  worth,  and  estimated  her  personal 
excellency  precisely  at  its  true  value. 

When  she  first  made  her  appearance  upon  the  boards  of 
the  Broadway  Theatre,  she  attracted,  as  every  novelty  will 
do  when  it  has  been  sufficiently  talked  about,  an  immense 
audience.  Be  it  observed,  however,  that  not  a  single  lady 
was  present. 

As  for  her  style  of  dancing,  that  produced  not  the  slightest 
sensation.  However,  my  dear  friend,  you  must  not  attribute 
to  us  a  deadness  to  the  attractions  of  the  Terpsichorean  Art, 
upon  this  account. 

You  know,  for  you  have  seen  Lola  on  the  stage,  (let  me 
not  take  the  liberty  of  suggesting  that  you  have  ever  spoken 
to  her  off  the  arena  of  her  saltatory  exhibitions)  that  she 
has  her  own  peculiar  mode  of  dancing.  Need  I  remind  you, 
that  this  mode  differs  materially  from  that  of  any  other  of 
the  daughters  of  Terpsichore  ?  Fanny  Ellsler  translates  a 
stanza  of  Tasso  with  an  entrechat,  or  modulates  a  sonnet  of 
Petrarca  into  a  pirouette.  The  lithe  limbs  and  fawn-like 
figure  of  Marie  Taglioni  embody,  with  their  undulating  move- 
ment, the  tenderer  emotions  in  Byron's  "  Don  Juan."  Plump 
and  round  Cerito  sings  with  her  legs  a  voluptuous  passage 


192  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

from  the  heathen  Ovid's  "Art  of  Love  ;"  while  Caiiotta  Grisi 
and  Rosati  narrate,  in  their  pas  seuls,  a  fantastic  tale  from 
Hoffman,  or  translate  a  legend  from  the  "  Thousand-and-one 
Nights,"  with  a  more  witching  grace  than  any  which  had  be- 
fore been  infused  into  them  by  the  pen  of  their  transcribers. 

However,  the  dancing  of  Lola  Montez  resembles  another 
class  of  literature,  and  realizes  a  purely  different  style  of 
verbal  creation  in  its  fleshly  movement.  In  some  degree,  it 
approximates  to  a  work  which  I  have  some  indistinct  remem- 
brance of,  called  the  "  Memoirs  of  Casanova."  Were  I  to  fix 
on  that,  with  the  genius  of  which  it  is  almost  identical,  my 
decision  would  unhesitatingly  be  given  in  favor  of  "  Barnum's 
Autobiography." 

This,  alone,  might  suggest  a  sufficient  reason  for  her 
failure. 

Moreover,  in  America,  she  forbore  to  give  those  profuse 
exhibitions  of  her  person,  which,  in  her  younger  years  in 
Europe,  were  added  to  her  dancing.  It  may  be  that  she  had 
grown  dubious  of  the  propriety  of  exhibiting  all  the  beauties 
which  had  once  fascinated  Liszt,  and  through  his  admiration 
of  which,  Ludwig  Von  Baiern  had  lost  both  his  throne  and 
his  wits.  Or  was  it,  perchance,  that  European  Diplomacy 
and  Roman  Catholic  Jesuitism  had  worn  away  and  destroyed 
their  former  grace  ?  For  I  cannot  believe  that  years  had 
tamed  her  into  modesty,  or  taught  her  to  moralize  in  muslin 
and  wear  the  pantalettes  that  redeem  other  wearers  of 
pirouettes  from  the  charge  of  want  of  modesty. 

At  any  rate,  she  failed.  Curiosity  brought  her  a  few  fine 
houses,  but  curiosity  created  no  admiration  for  her  artistic 
talent. 

Having  done  so,  she  departed  for  New  Orleans.  There, 
she  kicked  her  Manager.  Thence,  she  sailed  for  California. 
In  that  locality,  she  found  another  husband.  You  see,  my 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          193 

dear  Balfe,  the  beautiful  appositeness  of  that  terse  old  Latin 
saying — 

"  Sic  transit,  gloria  mundi." 

Let  me  now  return  to  my  two  Operatic  companies,  after 
having  spun  for  your  amusement  the  foregoing  episode.  If 
possibly  not  Homeric  in  the  strictest  sense  of  the  term,  be- 
lieve me,  when  I  say  that  no  Etfo g  of  the  events  of  the  period 
connected  with  Operatic  or  Histrionic  agency,  could  have  been 
complete  without  it ;  for  this  fact  must  be  added  to  others,  that 
Lola  Montez  was,  to  the  full,  as  insatiable  in  her  acquisition 
of  agents  as  she  might  be  of  husbands,  or  of  the  temporary 
occupants  of  corresponding  situations.  To  tell  the  truth,  she 
had,  at  the  least,  a  round  dozen  of  either  class  during  her 
peregrinations  across  this  continent. 

One  of  the  sections  of  my  original  troupe  I  kept,  as  indeed 
you  have  earlier  been  told,  in  New  York. 

Here,  Fortune  once  more  smiled  kindly  upon  my  exertions. 
My  efforts  for  success  were  amply  and  generously  rewarded 
by  the  public.  My  promised  season  was  fully  carried  out  to 
a  successful  termination.  This  was,  however,  under  my  own 
direction. 

But,  woe  to  /hat  Manager  who  suffers  any  portion  of  his 
company  to  pass  from  under  his  own  surveillance. 

The  results  of  this  folly  I  had  already  experienced,  in 
allowing  a  portion  of  it  to  work  under  the  directions  of  Mr. 
Wardwell.  I  was  now  doomed  to  make  a  second  proof  of 
this  fact,  and  to  make  it  by  my  own  mismanagement. 

The  second  section  of  my  Operatic  troupe  went  South,  in 
the  charge  of  an  agent. 

His  name  it  will  be  unnecessary  to  mention.  It  does  not 
merit  the  honor  of  having  its  ignorance  and  weakness  exposed 
upon  paper  by  my  own  pen. 

You  know,  my  dear  friend,  that  all  musicians,  whether 


194  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

they  are  instrumentalists,  vocalists,  or  composers,  are  alike 
inflicted  with  a  slight  infirmity  of  temper.  Indeed,  they  may 
very  safely  be  classed  as  the  most  quarrelsome  set  of  beings 
upon  the  face  of  God's  round  earth.  Perhaps,  even  you  and 
myself  may  not  be  altogether  unfairly  included  in  this  cate- 
gory. There  is  an  antique  tradition,  (it  may  be  called  antique 
in  this  New  World,  although  scarcely  entitled  to  such  a  name 
in  Europe)  that  the  Duke  of  Brunswick,  some  century  since, 
(the  presumed  parent  of  George  I.  of  England)  who  was 
called  Frederick  Augustus,  was,  at  one  time,  confoundedly 
embarrassed  by  the  resignation  of  his  Musical  Intendant. 
This  officer,  who  was  the  Composer  Steffani,  had  retired 
from  his  position  in  his  Serene  Highness's  household,  in  con- 
sequence of  the  troubles  and  annoyances  resulting  from  the 
quarrelsome  habits  of  the  Duke's  Operatic  singers,  or,  as  he 
called  them,  "  Operatic  Savages." 

.  Frederick  Augustus  reflected,  and  then  determined  upon 
trying  to  manage  them  himself. 

He  tried  it  for  a  week,  after  which,  he  sent  for  the  ex- 
intendant. 

"  Steffani,"  he  said,  "  at  my  request,  you  must  withdraw 
your  resignation."  % 

"  Your  Highness  must  excuse  me.     I  cannot." 

The  Duke  walked  abruptly  across  the  chamber,  and 
paused  for  a  moment.  Then  he  returned,  and  laid  his  hand 
on  the  composer's  shoulder. 

"  You  must,  my  old  and  faithful  servant,  return  to  your 
post." 

u  But — your  Highness !" — 

"  Donner  und  Teufel!"  burst  out  the  great  Prince.  "  But, 
I  tell  you,  I  need  you." 

"  I  am  sorry" — commenced  Steffani. 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          195 

"  Can  you  not  see  that  I  am  even  now  on  the  Confes- 
sional?" 

"I  do  not  understand  what  your  Highness  is  saying," 
answered  the  composer. 

"  Why,  I  was  about  telling  you,  that  I  find  it  a  far  easier 
thing  to  command  an  army  of  fifty  thousand  men,  than  to 
manage  half  a  dozen  rascally  Opera-singers." 

Steffani  bowed,  and  returned  to  his  duties.  He  was 
satisfied  with  the  Duke's  avowal  of  incompetence.  Frederick 
Augustus  never  again  interfered  with  management. 

Philosophically  considered,  it  is  a  curious  fact,  my  good 
Balfe,  that  the  members  of  the  most  "  harmonious"  profession 
in  the  world  should  be,  in  '  almost  every  instance,  the  most 
"inharmonious"  set  of  denizens  upon  its  round  surface. 
This,  I  confess  myself  unable  to  account  for.  Reflection 
has  been  spent  upon  it  in  vain,  and  it  remains  a  riddle. 
Why  melody  should  give  the  temper  so  keen  an  edge — why, 
after  rehearsing  the  melting  strains  of  the  "Norma"  or 
singing  the  laughter-moving  music  of  the  "  Barbiere,"  the 
soprano  should  be  in  a  temper  to  call  her  Manager  "  an 
idiot,"  while  the  tenor  should  attempt  to  pull  the  nose  of  the 
basso,  and  the  barytone  should  manage  to  make  a  diabolical 
row  because  he  has  not  been  paid  his  salary  some  two  days 
before  it  is  due,  has  always  puzzled  me. 

Did  you  ever  know  a  Chorus  who  had  not  their  daily 
grievances?  Certain  is  it,  that  I  have  yet  to  make  an 
acquaintance  with  such  a  "  lusus  natures"  Have  you  ever 
met  with  any  Orchestra  whose  members  could  avoid  differ- 
ences among  themselves,  or  had  not  to  be  ruled  with  an  iron 
hand  by  their  Conductor  ?  If  you  have  done  so,  safely  may 
it  be  said,  that  I  never  did. 

Allow  me  to  remind  you  of  the  witty  epigram,  made  by  a 
wag  of  the  period,  on  the  quarrels  of  the  members  of  the 


196  REVELATIONS    OF  AN 

Conservatoire,  at  Paris,  in  the  year  1802.  These  had  taken 
such  alarming  proportions,  as  even  to  endanger  the  existence 
of  that  noble  institution.  It  ran  thus  :* — 

"  J'admirc  leurs  talents,  et  meme  leur  genie, 

Mais  au  fond  ils  ont  un  grand  tort ; 
C'est  de  s'intituler  Professeurs  d'Harmonie, 

Et  de  n'etre  jamais  d'accord." 

However,  it  must  fairly  be  owned,  that  in  placing  a  portion 
of  my  company  in  the  charge  of  an  agent,  I  ought  to  have 
expected  no  better  result.  We  all,  my  good  friend,  have  to 
live  and  learn.  This  was  one  of  the  lessons  I  have  been 
gathering  as  age  grows  upon  me. 

From  Baltimore  and  Washington,  my  agent  wrote  two 
letters.  In  these,  he  informed  me,  that  he  was  proceeding  to 
New  Orleans,  where  he  was  confident  of  having  a  profit  of 
at  the  least  $10,000,  on  the  right  side  of  his  balance- 
sheet. 

Imagine  me,  Balfe,  as  I  walked  down  Broadway,  with  my 
pockets  buttoned  up  and  rejoicing  in  the  conviction  that  this 
season  would  retrieve  my  previous  losses.  My  spirit  was 
Alnascharized.  As  the  Utopian  dreamer  in  the  Arabian 
fable,  I  bore  my  basket  of  eggs. — No !  unfortunately,  I  did 
not  bear  them  upon  my  own  head.  Had  I  done  so,  greater 
care  would  very  certainly  have  been  taken  of  them.  Scarcely 

*  Through  the  kindness  of  a  friend,  I  am  enabled  to  give  the  follow- 
ing rendering  of  the  idea  of  this  epigram.  From  the  pun  in  the  last 
line,  it  is  impossible  to  translate  it  more  nearly. 

Their  talent  and  genius,  I  own,  I  admire, 
And  yet  they  commit  a  great  wrong  ; 

Though  entitled  Professors  of  Harmony, 
No  two  e'er  can  sing  the  same  song. 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  197 

is  it  probable,  that  they  would  have  been  so  thoroughly  and 
completely  smashed. 

Shortly  afterwards,  the  news  came  to  me  from  Richmond, 
that  my  agent  had  managed  to  involve  himself  in  a  very 
prejudicial  controversy  with  the  press  of  that  city. 

This,  I  said  to  myself,  was  an  accident.  Had  he  not 
promised  me  a  profit  of  $10,000  ? 

While  he  was  yet  at  Charleston,  the  intelligence  reached 
me,  that  he  had  got  into  serious  troubles  with  the  vocalists 
placed  under  his  charge. 

It  was  to  be  expected,  I  muttered.  When  did  a  singer 
fail  to  quarrel  with  his  or  her  Manager?  The  $10,000  still 
colored  my  thoughts. 

One  morning,  when  I  had  strolled  down  to  the  office  of  the 
Astor  Place  Opera  House,  what  was  my  surprise  to  see  him. 
My  eyes  opened,  as  do  those  of  Leporelh,  when  the  statue 
of  the  Commandante  first  addresses  Don  Juan.  The  unlucky 
wretch  had  returned  from  Savannah,  to  detail  me  his  mis- 
fortunes. He  had  quarrelled  with  his  troupe,  and,  conse- 
quently, had  been  cowhided  and  beaten  almost  to  a  jelly  by 
the  refractory  artists.  In  short,  they  had  broken  into  open 
rebellion  against  his  authority,  and  taken  the  opportunity  of 
giving  him  a  lesson.  Not  being  able  to  face  them,  unblush- 
ingly,  after  this,  and  supposing  that  "discretion  was  the 
better  part  of  valor,"  he  had  then  run  away.  My  company, 
or  rather,  thfe  half  of  it,  was  therefore  left  alone.  Like  a 
blind  worm,  an  oyster,  or  a  polypus,  it  rejoiced  in  having 
neither  head  nor  tail. 

Now,  although  the  artists  who  had  placed  themselves  in 
this  difficulty  by  an  open  act  of  rebellion,  deserved  no  pity 
at  my  hands,  there  were  many,  in  this  instance,  innocent 
subalterns  (members  of  the  Orchestra,  Chorus,  and  other 
officials)  connected  with  or  engaged  in  the  Southern  division 


198  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

of  my  company,  whom  I  could  not  conscientiously  allow  to 
remain  in  a  strange  city,  without  the  means  either  of  return 
or  of  subsistence. 

It  was  true  that  I  had  made  a  good  season  in  New  York, 
but  its  profits  had  been  swallowed  up  by  the  outstanding 
debts  of  my  preceding  musical  campaign. 

What,  then,  was  I  to  do  ?  The  immediate  necessity  for 
action  forced  me  to  take  the  readiest  means  of  assisting 
them  which  was  in  my  power,  and  I  was  consequently  obliged 
to  sacrifice  the  greatest  portion  of  my  Operatic  stock,  con- 
sisting of  music,  dresses,  and  properties,  to  enable  myself  to 
bring  back  to  New  York  the  headless  and  tailless  company 
who  were  amusing  themselves  as  best  they  could  in  the  city 
of  Savannah. 

Now,  in  making  this  sacrifice,  it  had  been  my  intention  to 
unite  all  my  musical  forces  here,  with  the  purpose  of  starting 
with  the  whole  of  them,  by  another  route,  under  my  own 
command. 

This  intention  was  unhappily  doomed  not  to  be  put  in  exe- 
cution. Some  other  of  those  musical  agents  who  had  lately 
so  plentifully  cropped  out  of  the  manure  Barnum  had  spread 
upon  the  soil  of  American  humanity,  had  recently  become 
aware  of  my  somewhat  precarious  position.  Representing 
themselves,  whether  rightly  or  wrongly,  it  would  be  impos- 
sible to  say,  (the  word  of  a  musical  agent  can  never  be 
taken  without  doubt)  as  employed  by  Marty,  the  Havanese 
impressario,  they  began  to  disseminate  discord  in  my  com- 
pany. These  gentlemen  (if  I  am  not  wrong  in  giving  them 
such  a  name)  intimated  to  the  members  of  it,  that  Don 
Francisco  had  the  intention  of  engaging  them  again  for 
Havana,  with  the  view  of  sending  them,  after  the  season  for 
Opera  in  that  city  had  terminated,  to  New  Orleans,  and 
thence  to  Mexico.  If,  however,  they  should  determine  upon 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          199 

accompanying  me  to  New  Orleans,  Marty  would  certainly  not 
engage  them,  as  their  novelty  on  one  portion  of  the  ground 
selected  for  his  after  musical  campaign  would  clearly  be  de- 
stroyed. Therefore,  in  visiting  that  city  with  me,  they  would 
throw  away  the  probability  of  obtaining  an  engagement  of 
some  eighteen  or  twenty-four  months  with  him.  These  in- 
ventions were  naturally  listened  to,  and  more  foolishly  be- 
lieved. They  thought  it  better  to  sacrifice  their  certain  two 
or  three  months  with  me  (they  were  still  engaged  for  this 
period)  than  to  risk  the  mere  probability  of  a  two  years'  en- 
gagement with  Marty. 

Having  made  up  their  minds,  therefore,  to  this  course,  they 
not  only  refused  to  proceed  with  me  to  New  Orleans,  but 
announced  their  intention  of  definitely  breaking  their  present 
engagement. 

Knowing  my  reduced  means,  they  leagued  themselves 
with  the  view  of  performing  on  their  own  account,  until — 
Marty  should  think  proper  to  offer  to  re-engage  them. 

But  the  internal  jealousies  and  dissensions  which  exist  in 
every  Opera  troupe  did  not  permit  them  fully  and  completely 
to  carry  out  this  plan.  Mademoiselle  Steffenone  somehow 
did  not  altogether  like  Signora  Bosio.  It  was  a  truly  unfor- 
tunate circumstance,  but  the  Signer  Beneventano  had  one  pet 
hatred.  It  happened  that  this  was  for  Cesar  Badiali.  If 
there  was  any  of  the  company  whom  Salvi  specially  disliked 
and  mistrusted,  it  was  Signor  Bettini.  But  Madame  Bosio  had 
also  her  special  mefiance  of  somebody  else,  while  Biadali  and 
Bettini  could  hate  and  distrust  other  members  of  the  troupe. 
Suffice  it  to  say,  that  I  had  not  spent  my  time  in  manage- 
ment without  learning  some  of  its  secrets.  Taking  advantage 
of  these  sentiments,  whose  existence  had  long  been  known 
to  me,  I  succeeded  in  detaching  Steffenone,  Salvi,  Beneven- 
tano and  Marini  from  the  league  which  had  been  formed 


200  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

against  me,  and  was  successful  also  in  inducing  the  Signora 
Parodi  once  more  to  place  herself  under  my  direction.  With 
these  and  other  vocalists  of  less  note,  I  was  ready  to  start 
either  for  New  Orleans,  or  to  open  a  new  season  in  this  city. 

The  remainder  of  my  company,  consisting  of  Bosio,  De 
Vries,  Bettini,  Lorini,  Badiali,  and  Coletti,  with  some  others, 
constituted  themselves  into  an  independent  opposition. 

They  called  themselves  "  The  Artists'  Union  Italian  Opera 
Company,"  and  waited  to  receive  a  proposition  from  Don 
Francisco  Marty  y  Torrens. 

During  the  interval  that  they  would  have  to  linger,  ere 
this  hope  would  be  fulfilled,  they  determined  upon  doing  some- 
thing. They,  consequently,  after  some  consultation,  sub- 
scribed a  portion  of  that  money  which  they  had  earned  under 
my  management.  Their  object,  evidently,  was  to  cut  my 
operatic  throat  with  the  expenditure  of  the  cash  which  I  had 
paid  them.  A  truly  benevolent  idea,  teeming  with  the  most 
Christian  gratitude,  but  it  must  candidly  be  said,  a  very 
musical  example  of  Italian  generosity.  Well,  Balfe,  this 
"  Artists'  Union  Italian  Opera  Company,"  with  this  money, 
purchased  some  music  and  hired  or  bought  some  dresses. 
They  then  engaged  Niblo's  Garden  for  their  performances. 
This  was  naturally  a  comfort  to  Mr.  Niblo,  whose  Garden 
was,  at  this  time,  unoccupied. 

But  believe  not,  my  dear  Balfe,  that  Niblo's  Garden  is  a 
garden. 

It  resembles,  in  no  ways,  the  Gardens  at  Cremorne  or 
Vauxhall,  to  which  your  mind  was  already  likening  it. 

You  must  know  that  in  this  moral  country,  in  almost  every 
city,  one  or  two  theatrical  traps  are  set  and  baited  with  the- 
atrical amusements,  for  the  purpose  of  ensnaring  the  more 
religious  portion  of  the  community.  To  avoid  naming  them 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  201 

that  which  they  are  indubitably  in  fact,  these  theatrical  traps 
cloak  themselves  under  the  name  of  Museums. 

Such  a  garden,  as  Barnum's  Museum  is  a  Museum,  is 
Niblo's  Garden. 

By  this  name,  the  scruples  of  conscience  felt  by  a  certain 
^portion  of  the  public,  are  appeased.  To  me,  I  must  confess, 
it  has  always  appeared  a  somewhat  tight  shave.  But  what 
matters  it  ?  The  ear  is  satisfied,  and  the  conscientious  scruple 
may  be  considered  unbroken. 

Some  twenty-five  years  ago,  I  must  acknowledge,  this 
theatre  was  simply  a  garden.  In  this  garden,  did  the  iden- 
tical William  Niblo  sell  his  ice-creams,  sherry-cobblers,  and 
other  liquors. 

Now,  however,  it  has  completely  changed.  The  Metropo- 
litan Hotel,  Niblo's  Theatre,  stores  and  other  buildings  occupy 
the  locality.  Of  the  former  garden  nothing  remains,  save 
the  ice-cream  and  drinking-saloons  attached  to  the  theatre. 
These  take  up  literally  as  much  room  in  the  building  as  its 
stage  does,  and  prove  that  its  proprietor  has  not  altogether 
overlooked  the  earlier  vocation  which  laid  the  foundation  of 
his  fortune.  The  name  by  which  he  calls  it  has  never 
changed.  It  was  Niblo's  Garden,  when  loving  couples  ate 
their  creams  or  drank  their  cobblers  under  the  shadow  of 
the  trees.  It  is  Niblo's  Garden,  now,  when  it  is  turned  into 
a  simple  theatre,  and  hedged  in  with  houses.  Nay !  in  the 
very  bills,  which  are  circulated  in  the  interior  of  the  building 
during  the  performances,  you  may  find,  or  might  shortly  since 
have  found  such  an  announcement  as  the  following,  appear- 
ing in  large  letters : — 

"  Between  the  second  and  third  Acts" — or  possibly,  it  may 
run  thus,  when  Opera  is  not  in  the  ascendant — "  after  the 
conclusion  of  the  first  piece,  an  intermission  of  twenty 
minutes  takes  place,  for  a  promenade  in  the  Garden," 

9* 


202  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

You  will,  I  feel  certain,  my  good  friend,  admit  that  this 
is  a  marvellously  delicate  way  of  intimating  to  a  gentleman 
who  may  feel  "  dry"  (it  is  the  right  word,  is  it  not  ?)  that 
he  will  find  the  time  to  slake  his  thirst. 

When  he  returns,  and  his  lady  inquires  where  he  has  been, 
he  may  reply  if  he  wills  it — 

"  Promenading  in  the  garden." 

Now,  you  and  myself  are  not  puritanical  enough  to  con- 
demn an  honest  man  because  he  may  chance  to  be  the 
Manager  of  a  theatre  or  the  impressario  of  a  bar-room. 
But  were  bad  brandy,  sold  there,  or  if  he  placed,  generally, 
upon  the  stage,  the  pantomimes  which  are  given  during  a 
London  Christmas  at  "  Sadlers'  Wells"  and  the  "  Surrey," 
or  the  mixture  of  mime  and  farce  which  are  afforded  the 
Parisian  public,  at  the  Funambules,  we  should  decidedly  not 
accord  him  the  honor  of  an  inner  cabinet  in  our  memories. 
Even  more,  while  Arlequins,  Pierrots,  and  Columbines  are 
the  "  stars"  of  the  establishment,  much  as  we  may  laugh  at 
their  interchanges  of  blows  and  kicks  and  marvel  at  their 
footprints  left  in  each  other's  backs,  we  can  but  regret  that 
such  things  as  these  amuse  the  public,  while  we  laugh  with 
them. 

About  Opera,  the  Manager  speaks  in  very  contemptuous 
terms.  Like  the  fox  who  has  been  unable  to  get  at  the 
grapes,  he  declares  them  "  sour." 

But  in  spite  of  this,  one  of  the  distinguishing  character- 
istics of  Mr.  Niblo's  tastes  as  a  Manager  is  the  desperate 
longing  to  make  his  Garden  the  New  York  Opera  House. 
Could  his  opposition  have  effected  it,  he  would  have  destroyed 
the  Astor  Place  Theatre.*  Had  he  it  in  his  power,  he  would 
ruin  the  Academy  of  Music.  He  declares  that  he  detests 

*  This  he  subsequently  managed  to  do  by  an  astuter  mode  than  op- 
position. 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  203 

Opera,  but  flirts  around  it  every  season,  like  a  moth  that  is 
burning  its  wings  in  the  too  attractive  flame  of  a  candle. 

Whenever  any  one  has  been  willing  to  oppose  the  estab- 
lished operatic  theatres,  he  had  but  to  go  to  William  Niblo. 
The  taste  of  the  Manager  induced  him  to  receive  the  indi- 
vidual who  was  willing  to  try  his  fortune,  with  open  arms. 

Thus,  were  his  means  mainly  instrumental  in  enabling  a 
musical  agent,  during  the  late  season  at  the  Academy,  to 
bring  out  the  La  Grange  troupe  in  order  to  oppose  it.  So, 
when  the  "Artists'  Union  Italian  Opera  Company"  repaired 
to  him,  they  found  him  delighted  with  the  chance  of  opposi- 
tion which  it  afforded  his  Garden. 

Had  I,  at  this  time,  allowed  my  former  artists  to  amuse 
themselves  with  management,  it  is  not  to  be  doubted,  but 
that  I  could  have  made  money  in  New  Orleans. 

But  this  was  not  to  be.  Listening  to  the  request  of  those 
vocalists,  whom  their  likes  and  dislikes  had  induced  to  re- 
main faithful  to  my  fortunes,  I  ceded  to  the  desires  of  the 
proprietors  of  the  Astor  Place  Opera  House.  Frightened 
at  the  bare  idea  of  opposition  in  another  theatre,  they  also 
requested  me  not  to  leave  New  York.  Moreover,  there  is  a 
feeling  amongst  all  mankind  (at  least  all  such  as  are  worth 
anything)  which  prompts  them  to  resist  the  appearance  of 
doing  that  which  they  had  determined  upon  putting  in  execu- 
tion, should  it  seem  to  be  done  under  compulsion. 

This  feeling  I  suffered,  most  unwisely,  to  operate  upon  my 
mind.  In  doing  this,  I  committed  a  great  error. 

Complying  with  the  wishes  of  my  artists  to  annihilate 
their  rivals,  I  yielded  to  the  requests  of  those  whose  fears 
had  alone  impelled  them  to  apply  to  me. 

Therefore,  my  tour  to  New  Orleans  was  postponed  for  the 
present,  and  I  again  opened  the  Opera  House. 

No  sooner  was  this  done  by  me,  than  the  opposition  com- 


204  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

pany  (acting,  as  has  been  said,  under  the  advice  of  Mr.  Niblo) 
lowered  their  prices  of  admission  some  fifty  per  cent.  This  was 
done  on  the  presumed  impossibility  of  my  lowering  mine,  at 
all  events  in  the  same  ratio,  as  I  had  already  charged  my  sub- 
scribers at  the  full  price.  At  first,  this  most  materially 
injured  me  ;  so  much  so,  indeed,  that  for  the  first  time  in  four 
years  I  asked  the  patrons  and  proprietors  of  the  house  to 
assist  me.  You,  my  dear  friend,  will  believe  me  when  I  say 
that  this  was  as  much  or  more  for  the  sake  of  their  theatre, 
as  or  than  it  was  for  my  own.  But,  although  they  had  en- 
couraged me  in  the  attempt,  and  entreated  me  to  save  their 
house  in  this  struggle,  by  and  with  my  own  means  and  talents, 
they  themselves  refused  to  risk  a  single  cent  for  my  doing 
so.  From  that  moment,  my  determination  was  formed. 
Henceforth,  theatrical  proprietors,  whoever  they  might  be, 
might  attend  to  and  fight  their  own  battles.  My  business, 
from  that  moment,  has  been  simply  to  save  or  increase  my 
artistic  reputation,  with  as  little  pecuniary  loss  and  as  large 
a  pecuniary  gain,  as  is  possible  for  that  man  who  acts  up- 
rightly, and  never  evades  the  claims  and  calls  of  duty. 

The  remaining  twelve  subscription-nights  were  accord- 
ingly postponed,  until  further  notice  should  be  given.  My 
prices  of  admission  were  lowered  to  fifty  cents.  The  house 
was  thrown  open  to  the  masses  of  the  people,  and  for  the 
first  time,  in  New  York,  was  the  Italian  version  of  Meyer- 
beer's "  Robert  le  Diable"  produced.  No  expense  had  been 
spared  by  me  on  the  mise  en  scene.  The  dresses  were 
superb.  A  grand  corps  de  lallet  had  been  engaged  (I  need 
not  tell  you  that  we  had  no  Carlotta  Grisi  or  Lucilla  Grahn 
to  place  in  it),  and  the  cast  was  the  following,  which  even 
you,  accustomed  as  you  have  been  to  the  London  and  Pari- 
sian casts,  will  admit  was  most  excellent.  Salvi,  of  course, 
took  the  part  of  Robert,  while  Marini  sung  and  acted  the 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  205 

rdle  of  Bertram,  as  I  honestly  believe,  no  vocalist  who  has 
ever  trodden  this  earth  has  yet  done.  Alice  was  in  the  hands 
of  Steffenone,  and  Bertucca  appeared  as  the  Princess  Isabella. 
This  Opera,  thus  supported  and  placed  upon  the  stage,  at 
once  created  a  profound  sensation.  The  doors  of  the 
house,  or  rather  of  its  box  office,  on  the  days  of  performance, 
were  literally  besieged  before  their  hour  of  opening.  Tickets 
were,  in  innumerable  instances,  sold  four  and  even  six  days 
ahead  of  the  evening  they  were  purchased  for.  Nightly,  was 
the  house  crammed  to  suffocation.  The  public,  very  natu- 
rally, thought  that  I  was  making  money.  Never  could  there 
have  been  a  greater  mistake,  although  my  entering  upon 
this  season  was  a  far  more  expensive  error. 

In  consequence  of  the  limited  size  of  the  theatre,  and  the 
reduction  of  the  price  of  admission,  upon  the  one  side,  with 
the  costly  mise  en  scene  and  dresses,  upon  the  other,  the  suc- 
cessful ( ! )  production  of  "  Roberto  il  Diavolo "  was  a  dead 
loss.  On  every  evening  that  the  curtain  was  raised  to  a 
packed  audience,  and,  as  the  journals  phrased  it,  with  "  im- 
mense success,"  it  fell  upon  a  loss  of  some  four  hundred 
dollars. 

You  may  imagine  my  feelings,  my  good  Balfe,  when  I 
entered  the  house  night  after  night,  gazed  round  it,  and  took 
my  seat,  fully  aware  that  four  hundred  dollars  more  than  its 
contents  would  not  pay  my  nightly  expenses.  Nevertheless, 
.1  was  forced  to  continue.  The  opposition  had  to  be  driven 
from  the  battle-ground  which  I  had  so  rashly  entered  upon. 
They  were  forced  to  quit  it.  Two  weeks  after  the  first  per- 
formance of  "  Robert,"  they  retired  to  Boston ;  and  in  two 
weeks  more,  the  "  Artists'  Union  Italian  Opera  Company" 
dispersed,  amidst  quarrels,  blows,  and  mutual  vituperation, 
having  lost  not  only  their  time,  but  all  the  loose  cash  they 
had  embarked  in  their  untoward  speculation. 


206  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

As  is  the  case,  wherever  Meyerbeer  makes  himself  known., 
a  new  era  in  musical  taste  and  discrimination  commenced  m 
New  York.  At  the  present  time,  his  Operas,  and  some  of 
the  latter  works  of  Rossini,  are  alone  capable  of  interesting 
the  American  public. 

Far  be  it  from  me,  my  dear  friend,  to  intimate  that  I  pre- 
fer Meyerbeer  to  Rossini,  or  Rossini  to  Meyerbeer. 

The  dissertations  on  their  comparative  merits  are,  in  my 
opinion,  to  the  full  as  absurd  as  the  quarrels  of  the  Gluckists 
and  Piccinists  at  the  close  of  the  last  century.  My  belief  is 
neither  in  the  Italian  nor  in  the  German,  neither  in  the 
French  nor  in  the  Chinese  school  of  melody.  Indeed,  I 
invariably  feel  unwell  when  I  chance  upon  and  read  some 
very  scientific  and  learned  disquisition  upon  the  various 
schools  of  music.  For  my  own  part,  I  recognize  but  two 
schools  in  music.  Mozart,  Rossini,  Meyerbeer,  Bellini,  Weber, 
Beethoven,  Piccini,  Cimarosa,  Gluck,  Donizetti,  and  yourself, 
also,  my  good  Balfe,  belong  to  the  one.  This  is  the  school 
of  good  music.  Of  the  other,  it  will  be  perfectly  unnecessary 
to  speak. 

But,  let  me  return  to  Meyerbeer.  His  Operas  have  always 
appeared  to  me,  in  point  of  their  conception,  the  wideness 
and  truthfulness  of  his  harmonic  feeling,  the  adaptation  of  his 
melodies  to  their  subjects,  the  light  and  shadow  of  his  orches- 
tration, his  conscientiousness  in  the  most  difficult  feature  of 
all  music — the  positive  discrimination  of  personal  character, 
as  well  as  his  studious  and  exquisite  variety,  the  nearest  ap- 
proach to  perfection  as  Operatic  writing,  that  has  appeared 
up  to  the  present  day.  Rossini,  I  admit,  is  an  inexhaustible 
fountain  of  melody.  Perhaps  more  of  the  genius,  he  is  very 
certainly  much  less  of  the  artist  than  is  Meyerbeer.  Or, 
rather,  for  I  feel  that  this  scarcely  expresses  what  my  fingers 
are  striving  to  shape  into  written  language,  the  first  is  the 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  207 

Pope  of  Song,  while  the  other  is  as  decidedly  its  Martin 
Luther.  Remember,  that  in  speaking  thus,  or,  as  I  ought  to 
say,  in  writing  thus,  I  allude  strictly  to  Operatic  song.  Nei- 
ther is  it  for  Lutheranisin  of  spirit  that  the  Dramatic  Muse 
is  alone  so  strikingly  and  largely  indebted  to  Meyerbeer. 
When  an  old  score,  wrought  out  by  one  of  the  earlier  fathers 
of  Opera,  is  compared  with  one  of  the  scores  of  Meyerbeer, 
it  reminds  one  of  the  measurement  and  mud-walls  built  and 
made  by  Romulus  and  Remus,  when  placed,  in  imagination, 
by  the  girdling  marble  and  costly  palaces  and  miles  upon 
miles  of  circuit  of  Imperial  Rome. 

Many  opinions  have  been  broached  touching  the  time 
when  Opera  had  its  first  birth,  but  most  of  the  more  curious 
and  learned  gropers  in  the  history  of  the  past  allow  that  this 
was  at  the  close  of  the  sixteenth  century. 

As  for  its  earlier  development,  this  is  purely  fabulous. 
The  Greeks  and  Egyptians  only  dabbled  in  music,  while 
JL/ivy,  who,  at  the  commencement  of  his  Seventh  Book,  speaks 
of  the  " ludi  scenici"  for  which  musicians  from  Etruria  had 
been  expressly  engaged,  leaves  us  in  doubt  as  to  whether  the 
instruments  were  used  to  accompany  the  voice,  or  whether 
the  melody  was  intended  for  secular  amusement  or  religious 
purposes.  But  in  whatever  way  music  was  originally  used 
by  the  Romans,  you  and  I  may  safely  coincide  with  the  de- 
tails given  by  later  scholiasts,  who  attribute  the  invention  of 
Opera  to  a  certain  Rinucini,  a  poet,  ( ! )  who  wrote  the  libretto 
of  a  drama  in  verse,  called  "  Eurydice,"  for  which  an  early 
composer,  named  Jacobi  Peri,  composed  the  music.  This 
work  was,  for  the  first  time,  represented  in  Florence  in  or 
about  the  year  1600,  on  the  occasion  of  the  festivities  attend- 
ing the  marriage  of  Maria  di  Medicis  with  Henry  the  Fourth 
of  France. 


208  REVELATIONS    OP  AN 

Seven  years  subsequently  to  this,  was  the  first  Opera  sup  • 
posed  to  have  been  printed. 

This  is  called  "  L'Orfeo,  una  Favola  in  Musica."  Its  over- 
ture consisted  only  of  eight  bars,  the  repetition  of  which  was 
enjoined  upon  the  Orchestra,  until  the  signal  was  given  for 
drawing  up  the  curtain.  We  have  made,  my  dear  Balfe,  as 
it  strikes  me,  a  considerable  advance  in  the  two  centuries 
and  a  half  which  have  elapsed  since  this  period.  The  whole 
Orchestra,  indicated  and  required  by  this  score,  are  a  quar- 
tette of  stringed  instruments,  consisting  of  two  violins,  a 
guitar  ( ! )  and  a  contra-basso,  together  with  a  single  flute. 
It  appears  to  me,  that  we  have  also  made  a  stride  forward  in 
the  constitution  of  our  Orchestras.  Instrumental  music  has 
certainly  not  slumbered.  Yet,  singular  is  it,  that  even  at 
this  epoch,  criticism  was,  as  it  almost  ever  is,  adverse  to  any 
tangible  advance  in  Art.  With  a  not  uncommon  pertinacity 
(even  at  the  present  day,  similar  examples  are  given  us  of 
it),  the  would-be  connoisseurs  of  the  time  complained  that 
the  Orchestra,  consisting  of  four  stringed  instruments  and  one 
flute,  was  somewhat  too  loud. 

After  Italy  had  made  the  first  positive  step  forward,  in 
adapting  music  to  scenic  representation,  France  followed ; 
the  first  French  Opera  being  performed  at  Issy,  in  1659. 
It  was  called  "  Pomone,"  and  had  been  composed  by  a  musi- 
cian named  Cambert,  who  was  the  organist  in  the  church  of 
St.  Honore.  The  libretto  was  written  by  Perrin.  This  work 
was  successful  from  its  novelty,  and  the  author  was,  shortly 
after,  dignified  with  the  title  of  Operatic  Manager  to  the 
Court.  Soon  after  he  was,  however,  displaced  by  Louis 
Quatorze,  who  appointed  Lully  in  his  place.  Under  the 
regime  of  this  great  sovereign,  Operatic  Music  made  huge 
strides.  Lully,  who  was  a  man  of  decided  talent,  was  associ- 
ated with  the  poet,  Quinault,  who  advanced  considerably  upon 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  209 

the  former  writers  of  libretti.  At  the  present  moment,  Lully 
as  you  know,  in  all  probability  better  than  I  do,  is  generally 
regarded  as  the  father  of  modern  Opera.  For  him,  the 
Academy  of  Music,  then  called  the  Royal  Academy,  although 
it  has  been  baptized  and  re-baptized  since  that  period  with  at 
the  least  a  round  score  of  names,  was  originally  chartered. 
Under  his  direction,  it  was  firmly  established  in  national  favor. 
He  wrote  nineteen  Operas,  and  as  many  or  more  Ballets  for 
the  Court,  in  some  of  which  we  are  told  that  Louis  XIV. 
took  part  himself.  It  may  be  marvelled,  whether  the  music 
to  which  a  great  monarch  condescended  to  execute  his  entre- 
chats, was  as  good  as  that  to  which  Lola  Montez  has  been 
recently  pirouetting.  Suffice  it,  Balfe,  that  I  very  consider- 
ably doubt  it,  and  would  lay  a  round  wager  that  you  agree 
with  me. 

It  was  about  one  hundred  years  after  the  establishment  of 
the  Royal  Academy  of  Music  in  Paris,  that  the  celebrated 
musical  war  between  the  Gluckists  and  Piccinists  took  place. 
In  fury,  it  ceded  to  no  civil  strife,  save  that  of  the  Guelfs  and 
Ghibellines.  With  less,  or  should  I  not  say  with  no  blood 
spilt  in  it,  it  far  surpassed  that  in  acerbity. 

But  to  those  with  whom  Music  is  as  Religion,  it  may  be 
said,  that  in  spite  of  his  judgment  and  his  genius,  Gluck  is  no 
more  than  the  St.  John  in  the  Wilderness,  sent  before,  to 
herald  the  advent  of  the  musical  Messiah,  (do  not  believe 
that  I  speak  it  irreverently,  my  friend)  for  such  is  Mozart. 
Rossini  and  Meyerbeer  only  hold,  when  compared  with  him, 
the  positions  which  I  have  already  assigned  them.  You 
must,  however,  allow  me  to  say,  in  again  speaking  of  Meyer- 
beer, that  when  I  ranked  him  as  the  great  innovator  and 
Reformer  in  Music,  I  did  not  conceive  that  his  intentions  had 
been  fully  developed  in  the  Opera  to  which  I  was  then  al- 
luding. Although  it  must  ever  be  regarded  as  a  remarkable 


210  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

work,  in  "  Robert  le  Diable,"  Meyerbeer  appears  to  have 
been  wavering  and  unsettled  in  his  musical  convictions.  As 
yet,  he  scarcely  dared  implicitly  to  confide  in  his  own  genius. 
He  was  fearful  of  opening  the  door  of  his  will  to  his  musical 
skepticism.  Faint-hearted  and  timid,  he  was  afraid  to  declare 
himself  the  antagonist  of  the  recognized  maestro,  who  had  so 
long  worn  the  Triple  Crown  in  the  realms  of  music — the 
Swan  of  Pesaro,  Rossini.  Previously  to  this,  he  had  even 
crawled  on  his  knees  up  the  stony  staircase  (I  am  obliged»to 
use  the  adjective,  although  it  is  inapplicable,  for  the  purpose 
of  identifying  my  simile)  of  Italian  melody. 

In  his  "  Huguenots,"  he  has,  however,  at  length  acquired 
courage.  In  this  Opera,  and  more  especially  in  the  fourth 
Act  of  "  Le  Prophete,"  he  gives  a  free  rein  to  his  imagina- 
tion. He  here  expresses  his  musical  convictions  openly,  and 
hurls  his  indignant  protest  against  the  abuses  which  had  been 
tolerated  and  fostered  by  the  Operatic  genius  of  modern  Italy. 
In  the  "  Huguenots,"  he  purifies  the  Lyric  Drama  from  the 
sensuality  which  had  been  gradually  debasing  the  character 
of  Italian  music.  The  evident  frivolity  which  had  so  long 
been  creeping  upon  the  Italian  composers,  was  fearlessly 
eschewed.  No  listener  is  there  but  must  admire  the  novelty 
of  the  form,  while  he  is  impressed  with  the  truth  of  expres- 
sion, the  melodic  beauty,  and  the  severe  yet  picturesque 
power  exhibited  by  him,  more  especially  in  the  fourth  Act 
of  either  of  these  Operas.  Indeed,  the  effect  of  the  produc- 
tion of  the  "  Huguenots,"  (which  preceded  that  of  the 
"  Prophete")  was  immense.  Meyerbeer  at  once  strode  into 
his  right  position.  He  made  proselytes  and  he  gained  parti- 
sans, on  every  side.  Nearly  every  succeeding  composer  has 
trodden  more  or  less  in  his  foot-prints.  Even  in  Italy,  estab- 
lished maestri  such  as  Donizetti  and  Verdi  have  bent  to  his 
teaching,  and  in  their  Operas  of  "  La  Favorita,"  "  Don  Se- 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          211 

bastian,"  "Nabuco"  and  the  "Vepres  Siciliennes,"  have 
given  in  their  adhesion  to  his  dogmas.  By  this  fact  alone, 
the  irresistible  influence  which  his  writings  have  had  upon 
public  opinion  may  be  considered  amply  proven. 

Rossini,  although  apparently  indifferent,  feels  that  he  has 
lost  a  portion  of  that  almost  universal  musical  dominion 
which  he  once  had.  Occasionally,  he  shows  his  anger,  by 
sarcastic  remarks  upon  the  leader  of  the  reform  movement 
in  music,  and  his  principal  disciples. 

Thus,  one  morning,  when  in  Paris,  a  wandering  organ- 
grinder  accidentally  played  the  tune  of  a  romance  from 
Halevy's  "  Guido  and  Ginevra,"  under  his  windows.  Rossini 
summoned  the  luckless  boy  into  his  chamber,  and  catching 
hold  of  and  shaking  him,  exclaimed — 

"  What  do  you  mean  by  this,  you  little  rascal  ?" 

"  Signor !"  exclaims  the  unfortunately  small  malefactor, 
"don't  beat  me!" 

"  Have  you  not  been  paid,  to  play  that  infernal  charivari 
under  my  windows  ?  Answer,  little  whelp !  and  at  once." 

The  boy  swore,  by  all  his  Italian  gods,  that  this  was  not 
the  case. 

"  You  lie !  Confess,  who  sent  you  here  to  dose  me  with  all 
this  horrid  music." 

"  No  one,  Signor !" 

But  the  frantic  Rossini  was  not  to  be  persuaded  that  the 
infliction  was  not  an  intended  foretaste  of  the  pleasures  of 
Purgatory.  At  length,  he  gave  two  napoleons  to  the  street- 
musician,  who  opened  his  eyes  when  his  fingers  touched  the 
gold. 

"  Here !  take  these,"  he  said.  "  Order  for  your  organ  a 
new  barrel,  with  an  aria  from  *  Tancredi.'  Then,  go  and 
play  it  sixty  times  under  the  windows  of  M.  Halevy.  Do 
you  understand  me  ?  Sixty  times !" 


212  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

"  Yes,  Signer !"  stammered  the  boy. 

"  It  may  be,  that,  afterwards,  he  will  learn  how  to  write 
music !" 

Again,  when  he  last  year  arrived  in  Paris,  from  Italy,  an 
old  friend  inquired  of  him  whether  he  had  yet  heard  Meyer- 
beer's "  Prophete." 

"  Yes !"  he  replied  ;  "in  Florence." 

"  Indeed !"  answered  his  interlocutor.  "  And  how  do  you 
like  it?" 

"  Well !"  said  Rossini. 

"  I  am  delighted  to  hear  our  greatest  composer  say  so." 

"  You  know,  they  have  '  cut '  the  Opera  confoundedly  in 
Florence." 

«  Ah!  have  they?" 

"  Yes !  and  it  may  be  presumed,  that  *by  mistake  they  cut 
out  the  best  portions  of  it.  Consequently,  I  like  it  by  a 
pure  effort  of  faith." 

Such  remarks  as  these,  although  witty  and  spirited,  in  my 
opinion  do  little  honor  to  such  a  giant,  as  all  musicians 
must  admit  Rossini  to  have  been. 

But,  my  dear  Balfe,  I  can  imagine  what  has  been  passing 
through  your  mind,  while  you  have  been  reading  the  last  few 
pages  of  my  letter.  You  naturally  say — "  What  the  deuce 
is  Maretzek  talking  about  ?  Does  the  man  think  that  I  have 
never  heard  of  Rossini,  or  that  Meyerbeer  is  a  complete 
novelty  to  me  ?  I  want  to  hear  about  his  own  adventures  in 
America.  Facts  respecting  the  American  love  of  art  would 
be  worth  more  to  me  than  a  tome-full  of  critical  disquisition, 
which  I  can  manufacture  myself  a  deuced  deal  better  than  he 
does." 

All  this  is  candidly  granted  by  me,  my  good  friend ! 

Simply  have  I  wished  to  show  you,  that,  in  America,  we 
appreciate  the  recent  revolution  in  music  as  thoroughly  as 


OPERA  MANAGER"  IN  AMERICA.          213 

you  do  in  Europe.  If  I  have  done  this,  I  am  contented.  It 
will  prove  to  you  that,  in  visiting  these  shores,  you  will 
become  acquainted  with  no  tribe  of  savage  Indians,  but  with 
a  race  as,  or  more  generally  polished,  than  any  portion  of  the 
inhabitants  of  Europe — a  race  who  will  value  you  by  your 
own  merits,  and  unhesitatingly  accord  you  that  rank,  as  a 
composer,  which  you  so  worthily  hold  in  the  Old  "World. 

Before,  however,  this  letter  can  be  closed,  I  have  to  in- 
form you  of  the  termination  of  the  season  at  the  Astor  Place 
Opera  House,  after  the  success  of  "  Roberto  il  Diavolo,"  and 
the  defeat  of  the  "  Artists'  Union  Italian  Opera  Company." 

After  the  losses  which  I  had  sustained  previously  in  Castle 
Garden,  (a  misnomer,  for  which  there  was  somewhat  more 
justification  than  that  to  which  I  have  earlier  alluded,)  the 
unfortunate  surrender  of  a  portion  of  my  company  tempora- 
rily to  the  Catherine  Hayes  management,  and  the  money 
sunk  upon,  or  in  the  "  splendid  triumph  "  achieved  by  me  in 
the  production  of  "  Robert  le  Diable,"  it  will  scarcely  be  as- 
tonishing to  you,  to  hear  that  my  means  and  credit  were 
alike  utterly  exhausted.  The  enemy  had  been  beaten  well 
and  thoroughly,  but  the  defeat  had  ruined  the  victor.  Two 
weeks  after  they  had  ingloriously  fled  from  New  York,  I  was 
obliged  to  succumb.  Bled  to  the  last  drop  in  my  veins,  (I, 
of  course,  allude  to  my  purse  and  my  pocket,)  the  doors  of 
the  Astor  Place  Opera  House  were  closed  upon  the  public. 
It  was  my  determination  to  woo  the  fickle  goddess,  Fortune, 
elsewhere.  Possibly,  her  blinded  eyes  might  not  recognize 
her  old  adorer,  and  she  might  even  yet  bestow  upon  me  a  few 
of  her  faithless  smiles. 

Again,  however,  after  my  departure,  was  the  Opera  House 
leased.  But  to  whom,  do  you  imagine,  it  was  now  abandoned 
by  the  exemplary  wisdom  of  its  proprietors  ? 

To  the  identical  William  Niblo  who  had  fostered  and  en- 


214  REVELATIONS    OF  AN 

couraged  the  opposition — the  same  William  Niblo  who  had  a 
theatre  (or  let  me  give  it  his  name,  and  call  it — a  Garden) 
within  the  length  of  some  three  stone-throws  from  their  own 
House.  It  must  be  granted  they  did  not  foresee  that  which 
was  about  to  happen.  But  this  will  scarcely  palliate  the 
folly  of  taking  the  head  of  a  rival  establishment  for  their 
tenant. 

This  gentleman  engaged  the  troupe  of  dogs  and  monkeys, 
then  in  this  country,  under  the  charge  of  a  certain  Signor 
Bonetti. 

Their  dramatic  performances  were  offered  to  the  refined 
and  intelligent  proprietors  and  patrons  of  this  classic  and 
exclusive  place  of  amusement.  Naturally,  they  protested. 
It  was  in  vain.  Then,  they  sued  out  an  injunction  against 
this  exhibition,  on  the  ground  that  in  Niblo's  lease  of  the 
premises,  only  respectable  performances  were  permitted  to 
be  given  in  the  Opera  House. .  On  the  "  hearing  to  show 
cause "  for  this  injunction,  Mr.  Niblo  called  up  Donetti, 
or  some  of  his  friends,  who  testified  that  his  aforesaid 
dogs  and  monkeys  had,  in  their  younger  days,  appeared 
before  princes  and  princesses,  and  kings  and  queens.  More- 
over, witnesses  were  called,  who  declared,  under  oath,  that 
the  previously  mentioned  dogs  and  monkeys  behaved  behind 
the  scenes  more  quietly  and  respectably  than  many  Italian 
singers.  This  fact  I  feel  that  I  am  not  called  upon  to  dispute  ; 
while  you  will  naturally  regard  yourself,  my  good  friend,  as 
not  required  to  express  any  opinion  upon  such  testimony.  As 
might  be  supposed,  the  injunction  was  dissolved. 

As  a  matter  of  mere  course,  the  House  lost  all  its  prestige 
in  the  eyes  of  the  community.  Shortly  afterwards,  its  con- 
tents were  sold,  and  the  shell  of  the  Opera  was  turned  into  a 
library.  Its  death-blow  had  been  given  it  as  a  place  for 
theatrical  amusement,  by  the  astute  Mr.  William  Niblo 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  215 

To  me,  I  may  candidly  confess  that  this  was  a  matter  of 
satisfaction. 

It  had  been  unable  to  sustain  itself  before  I  had  become 
its  lessee.  During  the  three  years  of  my  lease,  it  had  flou- 
rished and  paid  its  proprietors  an  even  large  rental.  It  fell 
entirely  and  ingloriously,  a  few  months  after  the  period  at 
which  I  had  bidden  it  a  final  farewell. 

Had  the  proprietors  entertained  any  other  view  than  that 
dictated  to  them  by  the  meanest  pecuniary  interest,  it  might 
at  present  have  been  the  most  fashionable  theatre  in  New 
York.  As  such  a  theatre,  it  could  not  but  have  paid  them  a 
handsome  interest  on  its  value. 

Soon  after  the  fall  of  this  House  from  its  position  as  the 
only  operatic  establishment  in  the  city,  another  party  of  gen- 
tlemen took  out  a  charter  for  the  building  of  the  Academy 
of  Music.  Having  obtained  it,  they  went  to  work  and  con- 
structed the  new  Opera  House.  It  was  subsequent  to  my 
return  from  Mexico,  where  I  had  been  absent  nearly  one 
year,  that  I,  one  morning,  met  William  Niblo.  His  opi- 
nion respecting  the  future  Academy  of  Music  was  asked  by 
me. 

"  Why — "  answered  the  cunning  Manager,  with  his  usual 
nasal  voice — "  I  suppose,  I  shall  have  again  to  engage  Do- 
netti's  dogs  and  monkeys." 

Trusting  that  I  have  not  wearied  you,  believe  me,  my 
dear  Balfe, 

As  formerly,  entirely  yours. 

M.  M. 


SIXTH    LETTER. 

TO    FREDERIC    GYE,    ESQ.,    LONDON. 

Mexico — Opera  and  Bull-Fights — Mexican  Notions — Mexican  Law  and 
Justice — A  Mexican  Prima  Donna — Mexican  Revolutions — A  Mexi- 
can Secretary  of  State  in  want  of  money — A  Forced  Loan — Mexican 
Robbers — Puebla — Vera  Cruz — Incidents,  Accidents,  and  Adven- 
tures. 


10 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  219 


LETTER  VI. 

TO   FREDERICK    GYE, 

(Manager  of  the  Royal  Italian  Opera,  Covent  Garden,  London.) 

NEW  YORK,  September  18th,  1855. " 
DEAR  SIR: — 

ALLOW  me  to  hope  that,  after  a  lapse  of  seven  years,  you 
may  have  forgotten  my  neglect  to  send  you  those  composi- 
tions you  had  engaged  from  my  pen,  previous  to  my  depart- 
ure from  London.  Should  you  be  inclined  to  read  the  first 
letter  in  the  present  volume,  originally  intended  for  Berlioz, 
although  afterwards  put  through  the  mental  mill  for  the  gen- 
eral reader,  you  will  see  how  it  was  that  I  failed  to  fulfil 
my  engagement.  Mixed  up,  during  my  first  year  in  New 
York,  with  all  the  "miseries  and  mysteries"  of  Operatic 
management,  you  will  comprehend  that  I  had  neither  the  time 
nor  the  inclination  for  composition. 

You  too  have  known  what  a  life  "  behind  the  scenes"  really 
is.  Consequently,  I  feel  assured  of  your  sympathies. 

In  addition  to  this,  my  dear  sir,  I  never  really  believed 
that  you  cared  one  straw  about  these  compositions,  or  at  all 
valued  my  talents  as  a  composer,  until  we  chanced  to  meet, 
once  more,  some  two  years  ago.  Then,  to  my  astonishment, 


220  REVELATIONS    OP   AN 

the  reproaches  which  you  addressed  me  showed  that  you  had 
actually  reckoned  upon  the  fulfilment  of  my  engagement. 

However,  you  may  easily  console  yourself  for  the  non-re- 
ception of  my  insignificant  labors.  Since  that  period,  you 
have  dealt  with  greater  maestri  than  I  could  pretend  to  be. 
You  have  produced  far  better  and  more  profound  composi- 
tions than  any  which  I  might  perchance  have  sent  you,  and 
can  enjoy  the  credit  of  having  saved  and  restored  by  your 
energy,  skill,  and  perseverance,  Italian  Opera  in  London. 
The  smothering  ashes  of  past  failure  which  were  about  to 
crush  that  institution,  you  have  swept  away,  and  having 
located  it  in  a  new  temple,  have  toiled  at  its  perpetuation 
with,  I  trust,  an  ample  reward  for  your  labors  in  its  present 

success. 

• 

You  may  remember  that  at  my  last  visit  to  London,  after 
having  somewhat  appeased  your  wrath  touching  my  breach 
of  promise,  the  question  was  put  to  you  by  me,  whether  yo;i 
might  not  be  inclined  to  send,  during  the  winter  months, 
(when  the  Royal  Italian  Opera  is  closed)  your  company 
across  the  Atlantic.  In  this  way,  you  could  have  kept  your 
artists  employed  the  whole  year,  and  might  have  made  a  per- 
sonal experience  of  this  continent. 

At  the  time,  you  did  not  seem  altogether  indisposed  to  lis- 
ten to  this  suggestion. 

At  length,  you  told  me,  that  in  the  event  of  my  getting  up 
for  you  a  subscription  of  £30,000  ($150,000),  I  might  write 
to  you,  and  that  you  would  be  willing  to  try  the  experiment. 
In  the  event  of  my  being  able  to  do  so,  you  would  see  a  rea- 
sonable chance  of  making  a  similar  or  even  larger  amount 
from  the  nightly  receipts. 

You  must  excuse  me,  my  dear  sir,  for  publishing  the  gist 
of  our  conversation.  My  reason  for  doing  so  is,  that  your 
(in  my  opinion,  just)  expectations  and  demands  may  tend  to 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  221 

the  edification  of  the  operatic  proprietors,  stockholders,  and 
subscribers  in  this  city,  who  demand  nothing  less  than  such 
an  operatic  troupe  as  yours  is  in  Co  vent  Garden ,  yet  refuse 
even  the  presumptive  price  of  two  dollars  a  seat,  and  would 
start  back  in  utter  horror  at  the  idea  of  paying  five  dollars 
(something  less  than  one  guinea,  the  price  of  seats  in  your 
stalls)  for  the  pleasure  of  hearing  them. 

It  is,  at  the  same  time,  my  intention  to  give  you  in  this 
letter  a  brief  sketch  of  my  operatic  campaign  in  Mexico,  the 
capital  of  which  country  is  farther  from  New  York,  by  the 
ordinary  route,  than  it  is  from  this  city  to  London. 

Through  my  doing  so,  you  may  possibly  gain  a  more  just 
idea  of  the  manner  in  which  musical  speculations  are  managed 
in  the  New  World. 

In  February,  1852,  was  it,  that  I  had  vanquished  the  Ital- 
ian Operatic  opposition  at  Niblo's  Garden,  and  was  left  ap- 
parently defunct  upon  the  battle-ground.  Both  companies 
were  then  unoccupied.  Both  were  still  actuated  by  a  purely 
Italian^)' ealousy  of  each  other ;  while  either  party  feared  the 
engagement  of  the  opposing  one  by  Don  Francisco  Marty  y 
Torrens,  for  the  purpose  of  sending  it  to  New  Orleans,  Mex- 
ico and  Havana.  Now,  a  precisely,  or  very  nearly  similar 
project,  had  been  running  for  several  months  in  my  own 
brain — for  I  believe  it  is  admitted  that  we  all  carry  some  por- 
tion of  this  article  in  the  interior  of  our  skulls.  Although 
almost  penniless,  or  let  me  say,  centless,  as  it  will  be  a  much 
more  expressive  Americanism,  I  had  been  constantly  work- 
ing to  outflank  Marty  or  his  agents.  My  object  was  to  carry 
that  portion  of  the  company  which  had  remained  faithful  to 
my  fortunes,  to  Mexico,  where  I  felt  confident  that  it  must 
make  money.  My  confidence  was  based  on  the  fact  that  the 
land  of  the  Caciques  was  literally  untrodden  ground.  In  fact, 
Mexico  was  an  almost  purely  virgin  soil  for  Opera.  Reflect- 


222  REVELATIONS    OP  AN 

ing  upon  this,  I  came  to  the  conclusion  that  it  would  be  de- 
cidedly advisable  to  attempt  visiting  that  country.  The  me- 
mories of  Cortez  rose  upon  me.  With  what  means  did  he 
attempt  his  raid  upon  the  temples  and  treasures  of  Monte- 
zuma  ?  With  a  like  abundance  of  the  sinews  of  war,  would 
I  attempt  to  recruit  my  purse  in  Mexico.  Accordingly,  I 
proposed  to  the  late  artists  of  my  company  to  take  the  risk 
of  accompanying  me  there,  pointing  out  to  them  that  should 
we  arrive  the  first,  the  "Artists'  Union  Italian  Opera  Com- 
pany" would  not  dare  to  repeat  the  trial  of  an  opposition  to 
our  attractions. 

They  at  once  accepted.  Their  acceptance  was,  however, 
clogged  with  the  proviso  that  I  should  bear  all  the  travelling 
expenses,  and  should  increase  their  salaries  some  sixty  per  cent. 

They  had  evidently,  in  spite  of  my  recent  failures,  full 
confidence  in  my  skill  as  a  Manager.  My  pecuniary  position 
was  not  unknown  to  them,  yet  they  still  had  faith  in  my  abil- 
ities to  overbalance  the  weight  which  had  recently  ruined  me. 
Nevertheless,  they  intended,  in  the  event  of  a  great  success, 
to  make  the  best  they  could  out  of  me.  On  the  other  hand, 
I  reasoned  with  myself  thus :  Once  out  of  New  Orleans  and 
in  Mexico,  should  my  success  not  be  so  brilliant  as  to  justify 
me  in  paying  these  increased  salaries,  they  would  become  in- 
finitely more  tractable,  and  we  should  be  enabled  to  make  far 
easier  and  more  liberal  arrangements  together.  Therefore, 
I  consented  to  this  portion  of  their  proposition.  Moreover,  I 
agreed  to  pay  all  their  travelling  expenses  and  hotel  bills, 
provided  they  would  sing  a  few  times  in  New  Orleans  and 
Vera  Cruz,  to  remunerate  me.  This  they  acceded  to.  Con- 
sequently, having  settled  these  preliminaries,  I  went  round  to 
some  of  my  friends,  and  borrowed  sufficient  money  to  send 
an  agent  in  advance  to  Mexico.  He  had  orders  to  engage 
a  Chorus  and  Orchestra,  to  take  the  Opera  House  or  theatre 


OPERA    MANAGER    IN    AMERICA.  223 

in  that  city,  and  to  make  all  the  preliminary  arrangements 
which  upon  his  arrival  he  might  consider  necessary. 

After  having  done  this,  I  then  sold  out,  or  mortgaged  the 
remainder  of  my  theatrical  properties.  By  this  means,  I 
procured  barely  enough  to  send  the  entire  company  out  of 
New  York,  on  one  fine  spring  morning,  en  route  for  New 
Orleans ;  none  of  the  "  Artists'  Union  Italian  Opera  Com- 
pany," I  may  be  permitted  to  observe,  putting  the  slightest 
faith  in  what  they  had  heard  of  my  arrangements,  or  believ- 
ing in  the  possibility  of  my  "  insanity."  Such  they  chose  to 
designate  my  attempt  to  carry  to  Mexico  the  troupe  with 
which  I  had  defeated  their  opposition. 

The  artists  had  been  placed  under  the  charge  of  my  bro- 
ther, Albert.  They  were  to  travel  by  the  Ohio  and  Mississipi 
route,  and  he  had  instructions  to  give  a  concert,  either  in 
Cincinnati  or  Louisville,  in  case  of  necessity. 

Myself  and  Madame  Maretzek  started  some  few  days  later. 
We  took  our  line  of  travel  through  Charleston  and  Mobile. 

After  having  thus  provided  for  the  travelling  expenses  of 
the  members  of  the  company,  as  far  as  New  Orleans,  and 
paying  for  the  tickets  of  myself  and  my  wife  to  the  same  des- 
tination, I  found  myself  in  the  possession  of  the  enormous 
capital  of  $54  on  quitting  New  York. 

It  appears  to  me,  .my  dear  sir,  that  you.  must  allow  my 
faith  in  my  "  star"  to  be  fully  as  great  as  that  which  Napoleon 
evinced  in  his. 

This  was  the  whole  amount,  with  which  in  my  possession, 
I  undertook  the  task  of  carrying  my  artists  from  New  Orleans 
to  Mexico.  With  this  prodigious  capital,  I  was  to  open  an 
Opera  House,  and  carry  on  business  in  that  city.  To  me,  it 
was  an  entirely  novel  ground.  Therefore,  partially  was  it, 
that  I  relied  on  my  capacity  to  do  so.  Confiding  in  the 
talents  of  my  artists  and  my  own  luck,  I  travelled  to  the 


224  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

"  Crescent  City,"  rejoicing  in  the  idea  of  having  once  more 
completely  outwitted  the  opposing  coalition.  I  say  "com- 
pletely outwitted,"  for  in  this  half  of  the  world,  the  first  at- 
tempt in  any  line  of  business  is  the  only  one  that  is  certain 
to  pay,  and  my  determination  to  visit  Mexico  may  be  regard- 
ed as  the  first  in  which  any  good  Operatic  company  really 
visited  that  capital.  Therefore,  to  me,  it  appeared  certain 
that  I  should  gather  the  first-fruits  of  Mexican  love  for 
Operatic  Music. 

We  all  met  at  New  Orleans,  in  good  condition  and  good 
spirits.  But  Albert  told  me  that  he  had  been  already  obliged 
to  give  two  concerts  upon  his  road  thither.  The*  reason  for 
this  was,  that  the  artists,  feeling  freed  from  the  rivalry  of 
their  opponents,  had  again  abandoned  themselves  to  their  old 
habits,  whims  and  caprices.  Having  full  faith  in  my  ability 
to  conduct  their  present  campaign  to  a  successful  issue,  they 
began  again  to  live  as  if  all  the  silver  mines  in  Mexico  had 
already  been  the  property  of  their  Manager.  Instead  of 
eighteen  persons,  moreover,  the  troupe  had  swollen  to  twenty- 
seven.  Every  prima  donna  having  found  the  necessity  of 
bringing  with  her,  her  aunt,  sister,  grandmamma,  or  her 
protector,  without  counting  her  lap-dogs  or  her  parrots  ;  and 
each  tenor  carrying  with  him  his  protegee  and  his  servant. 

A  similar  style  of  living  was  continued  in  New  Orleans. 
No  representations  on  my  part  could  induce  them  to  abandon 
it.  One  complained  about  the  rooms,  and  insisted  upon 
having  a  private  parlor.  Another  objected  to  the  wine  pro- 
cured at  the  St.  Louis  Hotel,  and  requested  me  to  perform 
the  duties  of  his  butler,  or  improvise  him  a  wine-merchant. 
A  third  had  the  hiring  of  carriages  and  the  furnishing  of 
goods  inserted  in  her  bill,  while  a  fourth  astonished  me  with 
an  exorbitant  item  for  soupes  fins,  which  I  was  expected  to 
settle.  In  short,  they  all  lived  in  a  style  which  it  is  sin- 


OPERA    MANAGER    IN    AMERICA.  225 

gularly  unusual  for  an  Italian  artist  to  do,  when  lie  or  she  has 
any  suspicion  that  it  will  have  to.  be  paid  for,  out  of  his  or  her 
own  pocket.  As  a  necessary  consequence,  the  receipts  at 
New  Orleans  were  insufficient  to  carry  us  on  to  Vera  Cruz. 
Nor  only  this,  but  they  actually  fell  short,  by  several  hundred 
dollars,  of  the  sum  necessary  for  hotel  expenses. 

Many  persons  would,  on  finding  this  agreeable  result  of  a 
management  which  necessarily  subjected  them  to  such  con- 
duct, have  backed  out  of  their  position.  Mine  was  not  at  all 
enviable.  You  must  observe,  my  dear  sir,  that  not  only  did 
my  sanguine  nature  paint  to  me  a  brilliant  success  in  Mexico, 
but  my  ingrained  modesty  prevented  me  from  being  willing 
to  return  to  New  York,  and  affording  my  enemies  a  reason- 
able chance  for  laughing  at  me.  Hence,  whatever  my  diffi- 
culties might  be,  two  chains  linked  me  to  the  oar  at  which  I 
was  pulling,  the  one  of  which  my  natural  obstinacy  persisted 
in  believing  to  be  a  silver  fetter. 

As  I  was  sitting,  one  evening,  ruminating  upon  my  posi- 
tion and  the  posture  which  my  affairs  were  gradually  taking, 
a  happy  thought  snggested  itself  to  my  mind.  It  was,  as  I 
must  confess,  a  desperate  chance  which  presented  itself. 
But  the  beggars  of  Fortune's  favors  have  no  right  to  be 
choosers.  At  the  present,  let  me  own  that  I  regard  this  idea, 
if  I  may  say  so  without  profanity,  in  the  light  of  an  inspira- 
tion. I  had  heard  that  the  principal  of  a  Mexican  banking 
house  was  residing  in  New  Orleans.  This  gentleman,  I  had 
never  been  introduced  to.  Nay !  I  had  never  even  seen  him. 
Nevertheless,  it  was  to  him  that  I  determined  upon  apply- 
ing. Accordingly,  upon  the  next  morning,  I  paid  him  a 
visit.  Let  me  own  that  it  was  after  spending  an  hour  in 
screwing  up  my  courage  to  the  sticking  point,  that  I  was 
enabled  to  find  enough  to  place  my  hat  upon  my  head  and 
draw  on  my  gloves  for  the  purpose  of  doing  so. 
10* 


226  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

After  sending  in  my  card,  the  Senor  Martinez  del  Campo 
received  me  in  his  private  office. 

Here,  he  at  once  expressed  his  satisfaction  with  the  troupe, 
which  he  had  attended  on  every  evening  of  performance  in 
New  Orleans.  He  did  more.  He  predicted  to  me  a  glorious 
season  in  Mexico. 

It  was,  I  fear  me,  in  very  common-place  terms  that  I 
acknowledged  his  compliments.  All  my  courage  seemed 
oozing  out  beneath  my  finger-nails.  Not  a  word  could  I 
summon  to  my  lips,  to  speak  about  the  real  object  of  my 
visit. 

He  at  last  hinted,  that  as  I  was  going  to  visit  Mexico,  I, 
in  all  probability,  wished  for  some  letters  of  recommendation 
from  him. 

Somewhat  encouraged  by  his  apparent  amiability,  I,  at 
length,  managed  to  say,  that — 

"  While  I  should  be  truly  grateful  for  any  letters  of  re- 
commendation he  might  give  me,  I  had  really  come  to  ask 
him  to  accommodate  me  with" — my  heart  leapt  into  my 
mouth,  as  I  said  this — "  money !" 

"  Money !"  he  exclaimed. 

The  word  which  had  so  humbly  escaped  my  lips,  was 
blurted  out  by  him  in  that  rough  and  hard  tone  which  is  so 
peculiar  to  bankers  and  brokers,  and  so  very  remarkably 
unpleasant  to  a  poor  devil  of  a  threadbare  musician. 

A  sensation  marvellously  like  fainting  came  over  me,  as  I 
noted  the  change  in  his  voice.  But  as  I  involuntarily,  for  a 
second,  closed  my  eyes,  pictured  upon  their  retina  I  saw  the 
malicious  laughter  of  Badiali,  and  a  quiet  smile  stealing  over 
the  seraphic  face  of  the  gentle  Bosio,  who  had  been  two  of 
the  leading  members  of  the  "  Artists'  Union  Italian  Opera 
Company."  As  these  became  visible,  my  courage  again  re- 
turned to  me.  Opening  my  eyes,  I  said  to  him — 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  227 

"  I  had  supposed,  seilor,  that  I  should  have  made  some- 
what more  money  than  I  have  actually  done  in  New  Or- 
leans." 

"  Of  course  !"  he  muttered,  in  a  contemptuous  manner,  that 
left  me  but  little  hope. 

"  I  am  consequently  short  of  funds." 

An  ironical  smile  here  curved  his  upper  lip.  It  seemed 
to  me  as  if  he  was  about  to  say — "  What  the  deuce  have  I 
to  do  with  that  ?" 

In  my  agony,  I  continued — "  If  I  write  to  New  York,  the 
loss  of  time  before  I  receive  an  answer  will  almost  double 
the  sum  which  I  need,  as  my  expenses  will  still  be  running 
on." 

Here  I  paused,  expecting  some  reply.  This,  however, 
only  came  in  the  shape  of  a  piercing  glance  which  he  shot  at 
me  from  beneath  his  half-closed  eyelids. 

"  And  as  you  yourself  remarked  to  me,  my  company  is 
certain  " — this  I  remember  emphasizing  very  strongly — "  of 
a  great  success  in  Mexico,  I  would  undertake  to  repay  you, 
although  I  could  never  possibly  repay  your  kindness,  out  of 
my  first  receipts." 

As  I  reached  this  point  I  again  gave  way,  when  he  brusque- 
ly exclaimed — 

"  I  do  not  doubt  you  will." 

Saying  this,  he  arose  and  hurried  out  of  the  office. 

This  seemed  to  settle  the  business,  and  I  had  slowly  arisen 
from  my  seat  and  was  just-  taking  my  hat  up  to  place  it  upon 
my  head,  when  he  again  entered  the  room. 

"  Here !  M.  Maretzek !"  he  said  to  me,  as  "he  placed  a 
paper  in  my  hand — "is  a  check  for  $1,000,  which  you  will 
have  to  return  to  my  brother-in-law  the  day  of  ter  your  opening 
the  box-book  in  Mexico ;  and  here  " — saying  this,  he  tendered 


228  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

to  me  a  sealed  letter — "  are  a  few  lines  to  the  postmaster  at 
Vera  Cruz." 

I  stammered  as  I  attempted  to  thank  him,  but  he  would 
hear  nothing,  and  telling  me  I  had  already  taken  up  too  much 
of  his  time  (it  was  doubtless  valuable,  when  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  had  been  worth  so  much  tome),  bowed  me  in  a  remark- 
ably curt  manner  out  of  his  office.  If  I  do  not  here  tell 
you  how  much  I  felt  indebted  to  his  liberal  manner  of  doing 
me  this  favor,  believe  me,  that  it  is  simply  because  I  have 
yet  occasion  to  acknowledge  his  kindness. 

On  issuing  from  his  office,  I  scarcely  knew  whether  I  was 
standing  on  my  head  or  my  feet.  How  I  reached  my  hotel, 
it  would  be  impossible  for  me  to  say.  But  for  the  passen- 
gers in  the  street,  I  should  have  executed  a  pas  seul  expres- 
sive of  my  intense  delight.  Fortunately,  the  memory  of  a 
gentleman  of  genius,  whom  I  had  once -seen  accommodated 
with  a  strait-waistcoat  for  gratifying  himself  in  a  similarly 
innocent  manner,  restrained  me  from  indulging  in  this  fancy, 
and  I  contrived  to  reach  my  temporary  home  without  any 
gross  violation  of  public  decency.  Here,  I  paid  all  the  bills 
of  my  Company,  and  with  the  remaining  $600  in  my  pocket, 
was  fortunate  enough  to  secure  and  charter  a  vessel  for  our 
passage — there  being,  at  this  period,  no  regular  line  of 
steamers  or  packets  between  New  Orleans  and  Vera  Cruz. 
This  was  the  brig  America,  commanded  by  Captain  Maloney. 
It  was  a  small  vessel,  and  could  not  have  accommodated  a 
greater  number  of  passengers  than  ours  was.  He  had  agreed 
to  charter  it  for  $1,000,  the  half  of  which  was  payable  in  ad- 
vance. Not  caring,  for  the  moment,  how  I  might  be  able  to 
pay  the  second  half,  I  handed  him  $500 — returned  at  once 
to  my  hotel,  gave  notice  to  my  vocalists  to  prepare  themselves 
for  immediate  embarkation,  packed  up  the  whole  of  my  own 
traps,  and  was  on  the  following  morning  floating  down  through 


OPERA   MANAGER    IN   AMERICA.  229 

one  of  the  mouths  of  the  Mississippi,  on  my  way  to  Vera 
Cruz. 

We  were  seven  days  in  the  Gulf  of  Mexico.  Let  me  own 
to  you,  my  dear  sir,  that  there  are  periods  in  my  life  when  I 
recognize  in  myself  a  sad  deficiency  in  the  more  Christian 
virtues. 

In  a  similarly  un-Christianlike  forgetfulness  of  the  duties 
of  my  love  for  my  fellow-man,  did  I  find  myself,  on  the  second 
and  third  days  of  our  voyage  towards  Mexico.  Remem- 
bering the  position  in  which  the  regardlessness  of  expense  on 
my  part,  shown  by  my  artists,  had  recently  placed  me,  it  was 
with  a  demon-like  ^delight  that  I  noted  their  sufferings. 
Every  groan  seemed  an  acknowledgment  in  the  individual 
person  of  the  sufferer,  of  their  shameless  conduct.  Each  qualm 
seemed  a  partial  payment  to  me  for  their  extravagance.  The 
God  of  the  Sea,  old  Neptune,  seemed  to  have  taken  sides 
with  me,  and  to  pay  himself  with  the  contents  of  their  sto- 
machs for  the  bleeding  they  had  inflicted  upon  my  pocket. 
Woe  is  me !  he  was  not  contented  with  a  legitimate  ven- 
geance. On  the  third  night  I  retired  to  rest,  and  on  the 
fourth  morning  I  did  not  rise.  Most  profoundly  careless  did 
I  feel  whether  we  went  at  once  to  the  bottom  of  the  Gulf,  or 
whether  we  arrived  at  last  at  Vera  Cruz.  For  the  time, 
Opera  and  Operatic  singers,  the  "Artists'  Union  Italian  Opera 
Company "  and  my  own  troupe,  New  York,  New  Orleans 
and  Mexico  were  alike  indifferent. 

All  this  indifference  vanished,  however,  when  on  the 
seventh  day  of  our  voyage  we  arrived  at  Vera  Cruz. 

Rushing  on  deck,  I  gazed  longingly  on  the  land  of  "  Cabal- 
leros  "  and  "  Leperos,"  "  Senoras"  and  "  Ninas," — on  the 
land  of  Revolutions  and  Earthquakes,  the  flowering  Cactus 
and  the  wondrously  delicious  (that  is  to  say,  provided  you  can 
accugiom  yourself  to  it)  drink  called  "  Pulque." 


230  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

Feeling  very  much  after  the  fashion  of  one  of  the 
Spaniards  who  sought  it  in  the  olden  time,  the  white  walls 
of  the  houses  seemed  glistening  with  gold  and  silver. 

My  hopes,  however,  were  to  arrive  at  the  glittering  pos- 
session of  the  precious  metals  in  a  more  peaceful  guise.  In- 
stead of  swords  and  arquebuses,  I  had  brought  with  me  tenori 
and  soprani.  Bassi  and  larytoni  were  my  cannon.  For  my 
glaive  I  carried  a  baton,  and  bore  instead  of  a  shield  a  music- 
book. 

On  our  arrival,  the  boats  of  the  captain  of  the  port  and 
the  custom-house  officers  came  out  to  meet  us,  filled  with 
ladies  an'd  gentlemen.  They  boarded  our  brig  and  told  us 
that  my  agent  had  announced  our  arrival,  and  that  for  the 
last  week  every  vessel  which  had  been  signalled  from  New 
Orleans  had  been  boarded  in  the  same  manner.  This  had 
been  done,  that  they  might  have  the  satisfaction  of  hailing 
the  arrival  of  the  "  great"  Italian  Opera  Company,  and  also 
of  inducing  us  to  consent  to  give  one  concert  in  Vera  Cruz, 
before  we  proceeded  to  Mexico.  This  was  the  very  thing  I 
actually  needed,  and  had  intended  doing.  Diplomacy,  how- 
ever, had  occasionally  been  taught  me.  Here,  it  would 
decidedly  benefit  me.  Therefore,  I  at  once  declined  to 
comply  with  their  wishes.  They,  of  course,  became  only  the 
more  eager.  After  half  an  hour's  warm  entreaty,  I  appeared 
to  be  a  little  touched .  by  their  arguments  in  favor  of  my 
doing  so,  as  well  as  flattered  by  the  warmth  of  their  recep- 
tion, and  told  them  that  I  would  see  them  on  the  following 
day  at  my  hotel,  where  we  might  discuss  the  matter  more 
quietly,  when  I  had  partially  recuperated  myself  from  my 
fatigue.  At  any  rate,  I  gave  them  to  understand,  that  my 
sole  dislike  to  perform  in  Vera  Cruz  arose  from  my  intense 
wish,  first,  to  win  for  my  company  the  suffrages  of  their 
capital.  This  very  evidently  pleased  them  in  one  way,  while 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  231 

it  afflicted  them  in  another.  They  were  delighted  to  imagine 
that  I  did  not  consider  success  as  a  necessity  amongst  the 
virtuosi  of  Mexico,  while  they  all  but  wept  over  the  possi- 
bility of  my  leaving  them  without  gratifying  their  wishes. 
No  sooner  had  I  settled  this,  than  we  went  on  shore. 

When  we  arrived  at  the  hotel  (it  was  called  the  Posada 
de  las  Diligencias),  I  learned  with  great  pleasure,  that  the 
proprietor  was  no  other  than  Don  Fernando  Grinda,  the  very 
postmaster  for  whom  the  Senor  Martinez  del  Campo  had 
given  me  the  letter  of  introduction.  This  letter  I,  conse- 
quently, lost  no  time  in  presenting  to  him. 

Not  an  hour  had  I  been  comfortably  installed  in  *my  room 
under  his  roof,  when  the  worthy  Captain  Maloney,  from  the 
brig  America,  paid  me  a  visit.  Until  that  moment  I  had 
forgotten  him,  and  what  was  of  infinitely  more  importance, 
the  remaining  half  of  the  fare.  A  shadow  of  regret  swept 
over  me  that  I  had  not  burnt  my  vessel  like  Fernando 
Cortez.  But  it  passed  from  me,  when  I  reflected  that  it 
would  have  been  necessary  to  have  burnt  Captain  Maloney 
along  with  it.  He  was  much  too  good  a  fellow  to  have  been 
sacrificed  as  a  bodily  settlement  of  his  claims  upon  me. 
However,  I  had  scarcely  forty  dollars  in  my  purse,  and,  at 
that  moment,  an  exposure  of  the  state  of  my  finances  would 
have  been  utter  ruin  to  me.  What  was  I  to  do  ?  During 
the  time  that  elapsed  between  the  announcement  of  his  visit 
and  his  entry  into  my  chamber,  I  had  space  to  reflect,  but  it 
was  very  brief.  My  determination  was  taken.  Scarcely 
had  he  entered,  than  I  broke  forth  into  a  torrent  of  compli- 
ments touching  the  gentlemanly  manner  and  courtesy  with 
which  he  had  treated  us  on  board  of  the  brig,  and  taking  my 
gold  watch  and  chain  from  my  own  neck,  begged  him  to 
accept  them  as  a  slight  token  of  my  esteem  and  satisfaction. 

The  fine-hearted  Yankee  skipper  was  struck  with  amaze- 


232  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

ment,  and  while  he  was  looking  alternately  at  me  and  at  "  the 
slight  token  of  my  esteem  and  satisfaction,*'  with  his  astonish- 
ment painted  on  his  face,  I  explained  to  him,  that  I  must  re- 
quest him  to  call  upon  me  in  three  days'  time  for  the  remaining 
$500  due  to  him,  as  my  only  available  means  were  letters 
of  change  drawn  at  three  days  after  sight.  Of  course,  to 
such  a  reason  and  such  an  expressive  demonstration  of  grati- 
tude, there  could  be  no  possible  reply  but  one,  from  any  man 
with  such  a  large  heart  as  that  which  Captain  Maloney  had 
seated  in  his  bosom.  He  took  the  watch  and  chain,  and  left 
my  room  with  a  profusion  of  thanks. 

Almost  immediately  afterwards,  he  had  proclaimed  my 
generosity  in  the  parlor  as  well  as  in  the  office  of  the  hotel. 

This  only  contributed  to  increase  the  opinion  entertained 
by  the  public  of  Vera  Cruz,  of  my  independence  of  them. 
Never  was  a  watch  and  chain  put  out  by  any  donor  to  better 
interest. 

Consequently,  the  ambassadors  from  the  leading  society 
of  Vera  Cruz  did  not  wait  until  the  following  morning  to 
renew  their  applications.  The  very  same  evening  did  they 
wait  upon  me,  and  reiterated  their  entreaties  that  I  would 
suffer  myself  to  be  persuaded  to  give  a  concert  in  that  city. 
As  the  most  natural  excuse,  I  pleaded  my  want  of  time  as 
well  as  the  absence  of  my  agent,  through  which  I  had  no 
one  with  me  to  make  the  absolutely  necessary  arrangements 
for  such  an  entertainment.  In  addition  to  this,  my  ignorance 
of  the  customs  of  the  country,  as  well  as  the  great  expense 
consequent  upon  lingering  in  Vera  Cruz  several  days  longer, 
must  very  certainly  render  it  almost  an  impossibility. 

This  "  almost"  was  very  skilfully  introduced  by  me.  They 
saw  that  I  was  far  from  being  completely  inexorable.  There- 
fore they  redoubled  their  entreaties,  and,  finally,  I  permitted 
myself  to  be  persuaded  to  gratify  them.  It  was  agreed 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  233 

between  us,  that  they  should  procure  the  house  for  the  con- 
cert (it  was  to  be  given  in  the  theatre)  ;  that  the  printing, 
advertising,  and  all  other  necessary  expenses  should  be  liqui- 
dated, and  that  the  clear  sum  of  $1,200  should  be  guaran- 
teed me.  The  concert  was  also  to  take  place  upon  the  fol- 
lowing day. 

It  did  so,  and  although  I  chronicle  the  fact  myself,  it 
created  an  immense  sensation.  Every  piece  was  encored? 
and  at  the  close  the  stipulated  sum  was  placed  in  my  hands. 

With  this  money,  on  the  following  morning,  I  paid  to 
Captain  Maloney  the  $500  which  were  still  due  to  him.  I 
then  went  to  the  postmaster  to  order  twenty-seven  places 
by  the  diligence  to  Mexico,  and  requested  him  to  make  out 
the  bills  both  for  our  board  and  travelling.  He  went  to  his 
office  and  did  so,  after  which  he  handed  me  the  following 
account. 

"  Don  Max  Maretzek  to  Don  Fernando  Grinda, 
27  persons.      Board  from  three  to  four 

days,  $10  each    .  .  $270 

27  persons,  per  diligence  to  Mexico      .  1,350 

60  trunks,  the  luggage  of  the  party     '  *•  -          300 

$1,920" 

As  I  looked  upon  this  bill,  I  was  speechless.  You  might 
have  knocked  me  down  with  a  feather. 

The  distance  from  Vera  Cruz  to  Mexico  is  little  more 
than  the  distance  from  New  York  to  Boston.  Reckoning 
the  expese  of  travelling  these  few  hundred  miles  at  some 
$5  or  $6  per  head,  and  admitting  even  $10  board  for  each 
person,  I  had  imagined  that  my  $700  would  have  been 
amply  sufficient.  It  was  impossible  for  me  to  have  supposed 


234  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

that  this  expense  .could  by  any  means  have  been  swollen  to 
more  than  $60  per  person  and  baggage.  The  non-existence 
of  railroads  in  Mexico  had  been  suffered  to  slip  from  my 
memory,  and  until  this  occurrence,  I  knew  not  that  the  whole 
of  the  stages  or  diligences  in  the  Mexican  Republic  belong 
by  privilege  to  a  single  person.  Having  no  concurrence,  in 
any  form,  to  fear,  this  person  is  able  to  charge  how  and  what 
he  will.  As  a  necessary  consequence,  the  three  hundred 
and  fifty  miles  from  Yera  Cruz  to  Mexico  cost  nearly  as 
much  as  the  whole  of  the  travelling  from  New  York  to  Vera 
Cruz,  which  is  by  the  ordinary  route  a  distance  of  some- 
thing more  than  2,800  miles. 

Gazing  from  the  paper  in  my  hand  to  the  postmaster,  and 
from  the  postmaster  to  the  paper  on  which  these  figures 
were  traced,  my  surprise  rendered  me  literally  incapable  of 
uttering  a  single  word. 

At  length,  Don  Fernando  broke  the  silence,  by  saying — 

"  In  the  letter  which  you  brought  me  from  the  Senor  Mar- 
tinez del  Campo,  he  says,  that  as  possibly  it  may  be  more 
convenient  (!)  to  you  to  liquidate  your  travelling  expenses 
after  your  arrival  in  Mexico,  he  will  guarantee  the  fulfilment 
of  your  promise." 

You,  my  dear  sir,  may  imagine  my  astonishment  better 
than  I  can  by  any  chance  describe  it.  Not  only  had  the 
noble-hearted  banker  lent  me  the  money  to  quit  New  Orleans, 
but  had  actually,  foreseeing  my  present  necessities,  without 
a  word  extended  his  assistance  to  obviate  them.  This  might 
have  been  accounted  for,  had  he  previously  been  acquainted 
with  me.  On  the  contrary,  this  assistance  had  been  extended 
to  one  who  was  a  perfect  stranger  to  him ;  and  must,  very 
certainly,  always  demand  from  me  the  warmest  and  most 
thorough  feeling  of  gratitude. 

Turning  to  Don  Fernando,  I  told  him  that  I  would  take 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  235 

advantage  of  his  kindness  and  the  Seiior  del  Campo's  letter, 
by  paying  him  a  portion  of  his  bill  at  present,  and  settling 
the  remainder  of  it  in  Mexico.  Being  perfectly  satisfied 
with  this  arrangement,  I  gave  him  $600  on  account,  while 
for  the  remaining  $1320  he  drew  up  a  promissory  note  and 
handed  it  to  me  to  sign.  The  date  at  which  it  came  due, 
was  on  the  day  after  the  opening  of  the  box-book. 

It  was  with  a  shudder  that  I  attached  my  name  to  it,  for 
the  $1000  which  had  been  lent  me  by  the  Senor  Martinez 
had  to  be  paid  upon  the  same  day. 

With  a  vigorous  effort  of  my  will,  however,  all  unpleasant 
reflections  were  for  the  moment  discarded.  At  length,  I  was 
tolerably  certain  to  arrive  in  Mexico. 

It  will  be  unnecessary  for  me  to  describe  to  you  the  beauties 
of  the  country  through  which  we  now  travelled.  This  I 
leave  for  any  Bayard  Taylor  who  may  come  after  me.  My 
matter  is  business  rather  than  loveliness,  and  it  occurs  to  me 
that  in  reading  this  letter,  you  rather  require  the  detail  of 
events  than  the  description  of  scenery.  Therefore,  I  shall 
not  dwell  upon  the  forests  of  orange-trees,  and  the  camps  of 
gigantic  aloes  by  which  we  passed.  Neither  shall  I  compare 
the  snow-covered  volcano  of  Orizaba,  glistening  in  the  morn- 
ing sun,  with  an  immense  diamond  of  some  16,000  feet  in 
height.  I  shall  not  terrify  you  with  highly  colored  descrip- 
tions of  Mexican  banditti,  nor  endeavor  to  sketch  for  you  a 
Mexican  hacienda,  but  shall  simply  state  that  we  arrived, 
after  forty-eight  hours  of  horrid  travelling,  in  the  town  of 
Puebla.  This  is  a  stopping-place  where  travellers  generally 
rest  for  the  night,  and  is  remarkable  for  containing  a  popula- 
tion of  some  60,000  inhabitants,  of  which  it  appeared  to  me 
that  nearly  10,000  were  men,  women  and  children,  while  the 
remaining  50,000  were  very  evidently  monks. 

Here,  I  found  three  letters  from  my  agent  in  Mexico. 


236  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

One  of  these  requested  me  to  give  him  due  notice  of  my 
arrival  in  Puebla,  per  telegraph ;  to  remain,  then,  the  whole 
of  one  day  in  that  city,  and  again  telegraph  him  the  hour  at 
which  I  should  leave  it.  By  this  means,  he  would  not  only 
have  one  clear  day  to  prepare  a  public  reception  for  us,  but 
would  be  tolerably  certain  of  the  hour  of  our  arrival.  He 
also  informed  me,  that  the  aforesaid  reception  would  be  a 
most  imposing  affair.  A  cavalcade  of  some  two  hundred 
horses  and  their  riders,  with  military  bands. and  flying  ban- 
ners, &c.  &c.,  were  to  take  part  in  it. 

Now,  foreseeing  very  clearly  that  I  should  have  to  pay  all 
the  expenses  of  the  said  reception,  and  counting  over  what 
these  would  probably  be  in  a  country  where  it  costs  a  man' 
some  $50  or  SCO  to  travel  three  hundred  and  fifty  miles,  I 
decided  on  not  incurring  them.  Being  also  certain  that  my 
invaluable  agent  had  arranged  to  pocket  a  very  decent  per 
centage  on  the  gross  amount  of  these  expenses,  and  that 
there  could  only  be  one  way  of  evading  his  saddling  me 
with  them,  I  determined  upon  adopting  it.  Therefore,  I  noti- 
fied him,  as  he  had  desired,  through  telegraph,  of  my  arrival 
in  Puebla.  As  I  said  nothing  about  my  departure,  I  reason- 
ably concluded  that  he  would  imagine  it  was  my  intention  to 
comply  with  his  wishes,  as  regarded  the  period  of  it.  At  the 
same  time,  I  ordered  the  horses  to  be  attached  to  the  dili- 
gence a  few  hours  before  daybreak  on  the  following  morning. 
By  these  means,  I  trusted,  that  in  all  probability  we  might 
steal  a  march  upon  his  arrangements. 

The  second  letter  contained  the  cheering  intelligence  that 
he  had  already  engaged  an  Orchestra,  a  Chorus,  and  a  Ballet. 
In  addition  to  these,  painters,  carpenters,  and  printers,  had 
also  been  secured  by  his  industry. 

But,  on  examining  the  figures  of  these  engagements,  it  be- 
came very  evident  to  me  that  my  agent  had  acted  either  for 


OPERA    MAXAUKll    IN     AMERICA.  237 

himself  or  for  the  persons  engaged  by  him,  or  perchance  for 
both.  My  interests  would  appear  to  have  formed,  in  his 
mind,  a  purely  secondary  consideration.  In  short,  to  my 
horror  and  dismay,  I  discovered  that  his  arrangements  alone 
would  run  up  my  expenses,  nightly,  to  considerably  more  than 
$1000  (!)  in  addition  to  the  heavy  salaries  of  the  members 
of  the  company  which  I  had  brought  on  from  New  York  with 
me,  and,  of  course,  wholly  exclusive  of  the  rent  of  the  Opera 
House  itself. 

By  the  third  letter,  I  was  informed  that  he  had  taken  the 
Gran  Teatro  di  Santa  Anna. 

Its  rent  was  $2400  per  month,  payable  in^advance.  The 
first  month's  rent  was  to  be  paid  on  the  day  after  the  opening 
of  the  box-book. 

This  was  the  coup  de  grace  for  me.  Hitherto,  I  had  be- 
lieved in  Mexico.  But  I  had  learned,  already,  that  Operatic 
or  theatrical  subscriptions  were  only  taken  for  twelve  nights 
in  that  city,  and  were  then  renewed  for  another  twelve  nights. 
Yet,  out  of  the  first  subscription,  were  $1000  for  the  Seiior 
Martinez  del  Campo  in  New  Orleans— $1320  for  Don  Fer- 
nando Grinda  at  Vera  Cruz,  and  $2400  for  the  rent  of  the 
Gran  Teatro  di  Santa  Anna — in  all,  amounting  to  $4720,  to 
be  taken. 

Whence  were  the  other  necessary  expenses  attendant  upon 
the  opening  of  an  Opera  House  to  be  drawn  ? 

How,  if  the  amount  of  the  subscription  for  the  first  twelve 
nights  should  fall  short  of  the  sum  absolutely  requisite — 
$4720? 

In  New  York,  a  twelve  nights'  proportion  of  the  fifty  nights' 
subscriptions  never  came  near  $4000. 

What  could  I  possibly  do,  should  this  be  the  case,  in  a 
strange  country,  without  credit,  name  or  friends  ? 

These  questions   haunted   me  through  the   whole  night, 


238  REVELATIONS  OF    AN 

which  you  may  well  believe  was  a  sleepless  one,  in  spite  of 
my  previous  forty-eight  hours  of  travel  in  a  diligence  over  the 
most  wretched  roads  you  can  imagine ;  for  I  defy  you  to 
have  experienced  any  such  in  Europe.  At  any  rate,  it 
was  no  use  shrinking,  now  we  had  to  proceed.  On  the 
next  morning,  I  accordingly  rose,  haggard  and  jaded  by 
the  weariness  of  dread ;  and  on  the  evening  of  the  same  day 
we  arrived  in  the  city  of  Mexico,  to  the  great  annoyance  of 
my  agent,  and  the  pecuniary  loss  of  his  hired  circus-riders 
and  street-musicians. 

Once  in  the  capital,  I  felt  that  regret  was  of  no  avail. 
Energy  alone  could  save  me,  if  salvation  were  possible  for  an 
Operatic  Manager  in  such  a  situation  as  mine  appeared  to  be. 

Therefore,  I  at  once  sent  a  card  to  all  of  the  newspapers, 
in  which  I  thanked  the  citizens  of  Mexico  for  the  intention 
they  had  expressed  of  giving  me  a  public  reception ;  declaring 
that  I  had  managed  to  arrive  a  day  anterior  to  that  on  which 
I  had  been  expected,  expressly,  as  neither  myself,  nor  any  of 
the  artists  who  accompanied  me,  could  think  of  accepting  the 
slightest  testimony  of  distinction  from  the  public,  until  we  had 
shown  ourselves  fully  worthy  of  it. 

This  new  style  of  advertising  produced  a  more  decided 
effect  upon  the  Mexican  public,  than  any  number  of  street- 
parades  could  possibly  have  done.  Advertising  upon  the 
principle  of  a  Raree-Show,  had  been  invented  in  the  Old 
World.  Upon  this  continent,  it  widened  and  developed  itself 
into  grandeur — i.  e.,  the  grandeur  of  such  a  class  of  amuse- 
ment. Under  the  inventive  faculties  of  Fanny  Ellsler's  agent 
was  it  born.  With  the  speculator  in  Singing-Birds  and  Fire- 
Annihilators,  it  had  ripened  into  an  acknowledged  and  openly 
avowed  faculty  for  "  humbug."  An  artist — Henry  Herz,  had 
himself  carried  it  to  Mexico. .  Judging  merely  from  the  ar- 


OPEltA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA. 

rangements  made  by  my  agent,  it  had  ripened  considerably 
since  the  period  of  his  visit. 

But,  immediately  below  the  above  card,  the  following 
advertisement  also  appeared : — 

"  Any  person  engaged  by  the  agent  of  Don  Max  Maretzek 
will  have  to  present  himself  at  the  Gran  Teatro  di  Santa 
Anna,  within  forty-eight  hours,  for  examination,  as  well  as  for  the 
ratification  of  his  engagement." 

The  publication  of  this  advertisement  made  my  agent  abso- 
lutely furious.  He  threatened,  begged,  blustered,  implored 
and  kicked  up  all  kinds  of  rows.  All  this  was  of  no  use. 
My  determination  was  taken.  My  prospects,  my  reputation 
as  a  Manager,  and  even  my  honor  as  a  man  of  business,  de- 
pended absolutely  upon  the  manner  in  which  I  should  com- 
mence my  season. 

At  first,  the  Choristers  presented  themselves,  and  to  do 
them  justice,  I  must  say,  that  a  stranger  looking  set  of  indi- 
viduals had  never  elsewhere  placed  themselves  before  me, 
with  the  view  of  getting  an  engagement  for  Operatic  pur- 
poses. 

All  human  races  and  colors  were  represented  in  this  body 
of  vocalists.  Not  a  shade  nor  a  mixture  of  complexion  from 
white  to  ebony  was  there,  which  did  not  appear  before 
me.  Every  tone  of  color  from  pepper  and  salt  to  orange- 
tawny  could  be  discerned  amongst  them.  As  I  gazed 
upon  them  with  a  marvelling  appreciation  of  their  variety  'of 
hue,  I  took  the  liberty  of  informing  them,  that  their  engage- 
ments had  been  made  at  much  too  high  a  figure  to  suit  my 
pocket.  What  was  my  astonishment,  when  with  a  truly  sin- 
gular unanimity  all  of  them  declared  their  readiness  to  take 
fifteen  per  cent,  less,  provided  I  made  a  new  contract,  and  the 
former  one  drawn  up  by  my  agent  was  declared  void. 


240  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

Nor  was  this  the  only  abatement  consented  to  by  the  local 
members  of  my  new  company. 

Painters,  printers,  door-keepers,  carpenters,  tailors  and 
copyists,  also  agreed  to  a  similar  diminution  in  their  salaries, 
under  the  same  conditions. 

This  unanimity  was  so  extraordinary  that  I  was  unable  to 
explain  it  to  myself,  until  I  at  length  saw  the  leader  of  tfre 
Orchestra.  He  gave  me  an  explanation  which  unriddled  the 
enigma.  The  name  of  this  leader  was  Delgado.  In  spite 
of  his  color  (for  he  was  a  mulatto),  he  was  an  excellent  violin- 
ist, and  a  tolerably  good  leader.  When  he  came  into  the 
room  where  I  received  him,  he  had  a  white  handkerchief  tied 
around  his  head  and  white  kid  gloves  upon  his  hands.  He 
complained  of  head-ache ;  and  had  powdered  his  face  with 
flour  or  pearlash.  It  was  at  once  evident  that  he  had  been 
attempting  to  whitewash  himself,  for  this  occasion. 

Most  ingenuously  did  I  pity  him  for  the  head-ache  with 
which  he  was  afflicted,  seeming  not  to  remark  in  the  slightest 
manner  his  voluntary  transmutation  of  the  tone  of  his  complex- 
ion. Then,  I  asked  him  to  reduce  the  price  of  the  Orchestra. 

In  the  most  naive  and  innocent  manner  possible  he  told  me 
that  this  would  be  impossible,  unless,  indeed,  I  should  refuse 
to  accept  the  old  engagement,  and  myself  draw  up  another. 

"  How  is  that  ?"  I  asked  him.  "  I  scarcely  understand  you." 

"  You  see,  Seiior  !"  he  replied,  "  as  long  as  the  engagement 
which  has  already  been  drawn  up  between  myself  and  your 
agent  exists,  he  takes  fifteen  per  cent,  from  me  and  all  the 
other  musicians  who  are  members  of  the  Orchestra." 

"  Oh !  upon  my  honor !  he  does  that — does  he  ?"  I  exclaimed. 

The  murder  was,  at  last,  out.  Here  was  the  secret  of  the 
readiness  I  had  already  experienced  from  the  members  of 
the  local  portion  of  my  company,  to  abate  this  proportion  of 
their  stipulated  salary. 


OPERA  MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  241 

However,  seeing  the  class  of  individual  with  whom  I  had 
to  do,  I  told  him  that  the  reduction  of  fifteen  per  cent,  would 
by  no  means  be  enough.  At  the  same  time,  I  administered 
a  small  dose  of  flattery  about  his  skill  upon  the  violin,  inform- 
ing him  that  I  had  heard  of  it  both  in  New  York  and  Paris, 
and  asked  him  why  he  had  never  yet  visited  the  United 
States  ? 

"  There,"  I  said,  "  I  feel  certain  that  you  would  do  ex- 
ceedingly well." 

"  Oh  !  I  should  be  delighted  &do  so,"  was  his  reply; "  but — " 
this  he  added  in  his  usually  naive  style  of  conversation — 
"  I  feel  frightened,  lest  they  might  take  it  into  their  heads  to 
sell  me." 

As  he  said  this,  he  seemed  to  recover  his  recollection,  and 
his  blood  rushed  into  his  face  visibly  beneath  the  pearl-poW- 
der.  Almost  unable  to  preserve  my  countenance,  by  a  great 
effort  I  contrived  to  retain  its  immobility,  and  replied  with 
an  admirable  simulation  of  the  most  intense  surprise — 

"  Sell  you,  my  dear  Delgado  !  What  nonsense  !  Sell  a 
white  (!)  man  in  the  United  States !  Who  or  what  could 
have  put  that  into  your  head  ?" 

This  was  too  much  for  him.     The  idea  of  being  taken  for 
a  white  man  overpowered  all  resistance.     The  powder  actu 
ally  seemed  to  redden  with  his  pleasure. '    He  immediately 
lowered  the  figure  of  his  demands  several  hundred  dollars, 
and  a  new  engagement  was  drawn  up  and  signed  between  us. 

In  this  manner,  I  had  cut  down  somewhat  more  than  $2000 
of  my  expenses  per  month,  the  largest  portion  of  which  would 
have  gone  into  the  pockets  of  my  invaluable  agent. 

However,  with  regard  to  the  rent  of  the  Opera  House,  I 
could  do  nothing.  The  lessees  of  the  Teatro  di  Santa  Anna 
had  not  been  willing  to  sacrifice  fifteen  per  cent,  to  my  agent. 

'  11 


242  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

Therefore,  they  would  abate  me  not  one  dollar.  Neither  was 
I  able  to  procure  any  alteration  in  the  stipulated  time  for 
payment.  The  first  month's  rent  had  to  be  paid  on  the  day 
following  the  opening  of  the  box-book. 

The  following  Monday  (May  llth,  in  1852)  was  accord- 
ingly announced  as  the  day  upon  which  the  office  of  the  the- 
atre would  be  opened,  to  receive  subscriptions  for  the  first 
period  of  twelve  nights. 

Feeling  certain  that  the  amount  of  these  must  fall  far  short 
of  the  demands  upon  my  treasurer  for  the  following  day,  you, 
my  dear  sir,  may  imagine  how  I  felt.  Looking  towards  it  as 
a  convicted  criminal  looks  upon  the  proximate  gallows  or 
guilletine  of  his  sentence,  I  longed  intensely  that  the  agony 
might  be  over.  Every  minute  seemed  no  more  than  an  addi- 
tion to  my  anguish. 

Not  even  was  the  satisfaction  given  me,  of  shaping  any  idea 
in  my  own  mind  respecting  the  taste  of  the  Mexican  public. 
All  the  theatres  in  the  capital  of  Mexico  were  at  this  time 
closed.  The  Arena  for  Bull-fights  alone  contributed  its  ma- 
terial interests  to  popular  amusement.  This  was  flourishing. 
Having  never  before  seen  a  bull-fight,  and  being  even  more 
anxious  to  take  a  view  of  that  public  before  whom  I  was 
about  to  play  the  part  of  a  musical  matador,  for  one  day  I 
determined  upon  ridding  myself  of  my  doubt  and  dread ;  and 
upon  the  Sunday  preceding  the  opening  of  the  subscription- 
list  for  the  Opera,  I  mustered  sufficient  resolution  to  make 
my  appearance  in  the  open  amphitheatre  where  the  bull-fights 
took  place.  From  10,000  to  12,000  persons  must  have  been 
present.  More  than  one-half  of  this  immense  gathering  of 
spectators  was  packed  together  upon  the  sunny  side  of  the 
arena  (it  is  called  "  El  Sol"),  exposed  to  the  scorching  beams 
of  a  Mexican  sun,  with  no  protection  for  their  heads  save 
their  sombreros  and  scarfs  or  mantles,  waiting  for  the  com- 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  243 

mencemcnt.  On  the  opposite  or  shady  side  of  the  arena, 
were  boxes  filled  with  elegantly  dressed  dames,  and  younger 
females  attended  by  their  cavaliers.  This  immense  attend- 
ance at  a  place  of  amusement  awoke  some  degree  of  hope  in 
my  own  bosom.  But  when,  as  I  subsequently  turned,  almost 
sickened  out  by  the  disgusting  and  barbarous  spectacle  ex- 
hibited in  the  arena,  towards  the  spectators,  and  remarked 
the  interest  evinced  by  the  better  classes  of  society — both 
male  and  female — in  the  bloody  and  brutal  drama  enacting 
for  their  amusement ;  when  I  saw  that  the  infuriated  bull 
received  far  more  encouragement  than  the  toreadores  or  ma- 
tadores  who  were  endangering  their  lives  to  gratify  that  pub- 
lic ;  when  I  listened  to  the  thunders  of  enthusiasm,  and  saw 
the  waving  of  handkerchiefs  bestowed  upon  the  maddened 
beast  whenever  he  killed  a  horse  or  wounded  a  man ;  and 
when  I  heard  the  groaning  and  hissing  of  that  enormous  mul- 
titude, when  a  toreador  or  bandillero  missed  his  stroke  at  the 
bull,  and  thereby  endangered  his  own  life,  let  me  own  that  I 
fled  from  the  amphitheatre,  disgusted  and  hopeless.  Never 
could  I  have  believed  that  in  a  city  where  such  an  exhibition 
could  be  sustained  and  patronized,  sufficient  taste  could  exist 
to  support  an  Italian  Opera. 

On  the  next  morning,  therefore,  I  did  not  dare  appear  in 
the  box-office  myself.  My  brother  was  sent  there,  with  the 
treasurer  and  his  assistants,  while  I  quitted  the  city  and  re- 
paired to  the  Park  surrounding  the  Castle  of  Chapultepec, 
that  I  might,  were  it  at  all  possible  to  do  so,  for  the  time  for- 
get my  miseries  in  the  balmy  air  of  the  gorgeous  Spring  of 
Mexico,  and  deaden  my  anticipations  of  their  completion  by 
dreaming  amid  its  beauties. 

As  I  returned  in  the  afternoon,  by  another  road  than  that 
which  the  driver  had  taken  to  leave  the  city  in  the  morning, 
he  suddenly  stopped  the  carriage. 


244  REVELATIONS    OF  AN 

Turning  round,  he  exclaimed,  "Mira,  V.  Senor.  Esto  es  el 
arbol  del  Cortez." 

As  he  said  this,  he  pointed  out  an  immense  cedar  tree  to 
me,  and  explained  the  story  which  was  attached  to  its  huge 
and  giant  bulk. 

When  Cortez  was  driven  out  of  Mexico  by  the  Indians 
with  great  slaughter,  it  is  said  that  he  paused  in  his  retreat 
under  this  tree.  Here,  burying  his  face  in  his  mantle,  he 
wept  long  and  bitterly.  But,  added  the  driver  with  a  know- 
ing look  at  my  face,  as  if  he  partially  divined  the  cause  of 
my  gloom — 

"  Cortez  again  returned,  stronger  than  he  had  before  been, 
and  carried  the  City  of  the  Islands  by  storm." 

Alas !  thought  I  to  myself,  as  I  descended  from  the  car- 
riage and  walked  around  the  aged  cedar,  such  will  not  be 
my  fate.  I  shall  have  no  chance  of  running  away  from  Mex- 
ico. On  the  contrary,  to-morrow  will  settle  that  question. 
My  creditors  will  detain  me  here  for  the  non-payment  of  the 
various  sums  due  to  them.  Nay !  more — I  swore  internally, 
that  in  case  I  should  by  any  chance  get  safe  out  of  Mexico, 
there  should  be  marvellously  small  chance  of  my  imitating 
Cortez.  Never  again  would  I  return  to  it  upon  a  similar 
speculation. 

When,  at  length,  on  re-entering  my  hotel,  my  first  inquiry 
was  about  my  brother,  the  domestics  told  me  that  he  had  not 
yet  returned. 

Now,  had  his  nerves  been  constructed  upon  anything  the 
same  fashion  as  my  own  were,  I  might  with  muck  reason 
have  concluded  that  he  had  been  so  dismayed  by  the  result 
of  the  day,  as  to  have  made  a  slip-knot  in  his  pocket-hand- 
kerchief, and  attempted  to  secure  an  undisturbed  exit  from 
Mexico  by  means  of  strangulation.  Knowing  him,  I  however 
felt  comparatively  easy  upon  this  head.  Scarcely  anything 


OPERA  MANAGER   IN  AMERICA.  245 

could  possibly  have  disturbed  the  serene  equanimity  of  his 
endurance. 

Nevertheless,  my  dear  sir,  I  can  assure  you  that  my  pulse 
was  jerking  in  an  Allegro  vivacissimo^  while  I  felt  the  blood 
from  my  heart  flooding  my  veins  at  the  rate  of  one  hundred 
and  fifty  beats  per  minute. 

The  waiter  entered  my  chamber  to  inform  me  that  dinner 
was  on  the  table.  Allow  me  to  say  that  this  was  a  perfectly 
useless  attention  upon  his  part.  Very  certainly  was  I  unable, 
had  I  attempted  it,  to  have  swallowed  a  single  morsel  of  food 
at  this  moment. 

At  length,  steps  were  heard  by  me  approaching  the  door 
of  my  apartment.  My  ear  recognized  them  as  those  of  my 
brother. 

Swinging  the  door  open  to  admit  his  remarkably  leisurely 
approach,  I  gazed  upon  his  face  in  the  hope  of  reading  the 
information  of  the  day  upon  it.  Imagination  had  painted  to 
me  that  quiet  physiognomy  distorted  by  the  sufferings  of  want 
of  success.  But  you,  my  dear  sir,  may  perchance  remember 
that  my  excellent  Albert  possesses  one  of  those  peculiarly 
happy  countenances  which  would  appear  to  be  totally  unsus- 
ceptible of  change  in  its  expression.  Nothing  is  there  in  the 
events  of  this  life  which  could  by  any  hazard  derange  its  tran- 
quillity. Whether  he  had  your  death-warrant  carefully 
stowed  away  in  his  breeches'  pocket,  or  bore  you  the  intelli- 
gence of  your  having  drawn  a  large  prize  in  the  lottery,  my 
belief  certainly  is,  that  his  face  could  appear  equally  indif- 
ferent to  your  sensations.  As  the  door  closed,  therefore,  I 
exclaimed — 

"  How  was  it,  Albert?" 

"Why!     So!  so!" 

His  tone  was  precisely  that  in  which  he  might  have  replied 
to  a  question  put  to  him  touching  the  state  of  the  weather. 


246  KEVELATIONS    OP  AN 

"  How  much  ?  "  I  impetuously  required  from  him. 

"What?"  he  demanded. 

"  Why !  good  Heavens !  The  amount  of  the  subscriptions," 
I  replied,  stamping  my  foot  impatiently. 

"  Oh !     That  is  what  you  want  to  know  ?  " 

"  To  be  sure  it  is  ! "  I  ejaculated,  fast  ripening  into  a  rage. 
"  Will  you  answer  me,  Albert,  or  will  you  not  ? " 

"  You  may  count  it,  yourself,"  was  his  phlegmatic  reply. 

As  he  said  this,  you  may  believe  me,  that  his  face  betra^d 
not  one  jot  more  expression  than  the  head  of  a  Chinese 
Mandarin  does  that  has  been  limned  by  a  Chinese  painter. 
But  my  wrath,  which  had  begun  to  boil  over,  was  suddenly 
checked  by  the  appearance  of  a  gigantic  Indian  bearing  a 
moderately-sized  bag  upon  his  shoulders,  at  the  half-open 
door  through  which  my  brother  had  entered  the  apartment. 

Throwing  it  down  upon  the  floor,  I  heard  the  agreeable 
and  harmonious  chink  of  silver  as  he  retired  from  the  room 
without  uttering  a  word. 

"  One ! "  said  my  brother. 

A  second  Indian  entered,  and  repeated  precisely  the  same 
operation. 

"Two!" 

Then  came  a  third,  who  also  deposited  his  sack  of  the  pre- 
cious metal  upon  the  floor  of  the  chamber,  making  it  resound 
with  the  same  musical  voice. 

"  Three ! "  was  counted  with  singular  equanimity  by  my 
phlegmatic  Albert. 

"  What  does  this  mean  ?"  I  asked. 

"  Four ! "  said  my  brother,  as  a  fourth  bag  chinked  upon 
the  boards. 

I  stared  in  literal  astonishment  as  another  Indian  entered 
and  deposited  his  contribution  on  the  growing  heap,  while  my 
brother  tranquilly  reckoned — 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  247 

"Five!" 

Still  they  followed  on  each  other  like  the  shadowy  descend- 
ants of  Banquo.  Instead  of  a  crown  upon  their  heads,  each 
bore  a  sack  of  Mexican  dollars  upon  his  shoulders,  and  my 
brother,  unlike  the  "  blood-boltered  "  progenitor  of  the  shadowy 

race,  did  not 

"  Smile  on  me 
A.nd  point  at  them  for  his," 

but  quietly  went  on  counting — "  Six !  Seven !  Eight !  Nine ! 
Ten!  Eleven!  Twelve!  Thirteen!  Fourteen!  Fifteen! 
Sixteen !  Seventeen ! " 

As  the  last  of  the  Indians  quitted  the  apartment,  doubting 
the  very  evidence  of  my  own  eyes,  I  asked  Albert — 

"  How  much  is  there  in  each  bag  ?" 

For  the  first  time,  the  shadow  of  a  smile  seemed  to  nicker 
over  his  features,  as  he  answered — 

"  Make  a  bargain  with  me,  and  I  will  give  you  one  thou- 
sand dollars  for  the  contents  of  each  bag,  without  counting  it." 

Declining  the  bargain,  I  rung  the  bell,  and  at  once  ordered 
a  capital  dinner.  It  was  a  singular  instance  of  the  corporeal 
Philosophy  of  Life.  No  sooner  was  the  weight  of  doubt 
removed  from  my  mind,  than  my  stomach  reminded  me  of 
its  share  in  my  animal  economy.  It  was  very  clear  to  me, 
that,  as  yet,  I  had  neither  dined  nor  broken  my  fast  upon  this 
day. 

Such  was  the  result  of  the  opening  of  the  box-book  for 
subscriptions  to  the  Opera. 

From  nine  in  the  morning  until  five  in  the  afternoon,  the 
Mexican  public  had  subscribed  more  than  $18,000  for  only 
twelve  nights  of  Opera. 

Allow  me  to  say,  my  dear  sir,  that  I  respect,  honor,  and 
venerate  the  taste  of  the  Mexican  public  for  Operatic  Music. 

On  the  following  morning,  the  immense  amount  of  silver 


248  REVELATIONS   OP  AN 

we  had  received  so  far  embrazened,  or,  it  would  probably  be 
better  to  say,  emboldened  me,  that  I  repaired  to  the  box- 
office  myself,  and  at  8  o'clock  could  hardly  make  my  way 
through  the  crowd  of  would-be  subscribers  who  were  stand- 
ing round  it.  At  9  o'clock,  however,  the  Chief  of  Police 
inquired  for  me,  and,  on  being  admitted  into  the  interior  of 
the  office,  handed  me  a  written  order  from  the  Governor  of 
Mexico,  not  to  receive  any  further  subscriptions.  This  was 
based  upon  the  fact  that  there  was  reason  to  believe  the 
whole  of  the  seats  in  the  house  might  be  taken  by  subscribers. 
In  this  case,  the  remainder  of  the  public  who  could  not  afford 
a  subscription  for  twelve  nights,  would  be  deprived  of  their 
share  in  the  entertainment  offered  to  them. 

Naturally  enough,  my  American  feelings  were  offended  by 
this  order,  and  I  asked  what  right  the  Governor  had  to  inter- 
meddle with  my  private  affairs. 

"  Don  Max  Maretzek,"  replied  the  Chief  of  Police,  very 
gravely,  "  you  will  find  that  in  the  city  of  Mexico  you  will 
always  have  to  obey  his  orders."  Saying  this,  he  put  him- 
self in  a  dignified  position,  raised  his  hat,  and  with  a  sonorous 
voice,  ejaculated — "  J)ios  e  Libertad!"  Then  he  replaced  it 
on  his  head,  and  continued — "  Furthermore !  you  will  not 
only  have  to  obey  his  orders,  but,  even  to  anticipate  them." 
His  hat  was  again  removed  to  allow  him  to  utter  once  more 
— "  Dios  e  Libertad !  Moreover,  let  me  inform  you,  that  you 
must  not  publish  even  a  bill  of  your  performances  without 
first  forwarding  it  to  his  .Excellency  for  inspection."  Again 
did  "Dios  e  Libertad!"  ring  on  my  ears.  "You  will  also 
allow  me  to  tell  you,  Don  Max  Maretzek,  that  you  have  neg- 
lected to  send  his  Excellency  the  four  boxes  on  the  first  tier, 
which  are  invariably  retained  for  himself  and  the  members 
of  the  Ayuntamento.  Dios  e  Libertad!" 

Therefore,  as  it  appeared,  that  in  the  name  of  "  God  and 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  249 

Liberty,"  I  should  not  be  allowed  to  dispose  of  any  more 
subscription-tickets,  I  was  obliged  to  communicate  the  order 
of  his  Excellency  the  Governor  of  Mexico  to  the  assembled 
crowd.  Immediately,  they  volunteered  to  pay  for  a  second 
subscription  after  the  first  twelve  nights  were  terminated.  I 
was  accordingly  about  to  order  my  treasurer  and  his  assist- 
ants to  comply  with  their  wishes,  when  the  Chief  of  Police 
laid  his  hand  upon  my  arm. 

"  Don  Max  Maretzek !  by  the  laws  of  this  country,  the 
first  subscriber  has  the  right  to  retain  his  seats,"  he  said, 
"  for  the  second  and  third  months,  if  he  chooses  to  do  so.  In 
addition  to  which,  due  notice  must  invariably  be  given  him, 
three  days  before  allowing  any  other  persons  to  engage  those 
seats." 

As  he  concluded  this,  off  came  his  hat  and  out  rolled  the 
inevitable  "  Dios  e  Libertad  !  " 

This  second  order  appeared  to  me,  as  I  must  frankly  con- 
fess, somewhat  inconsistent  with  the  first  injunction.  That 
protected  the  rights  and  amusements  of  the  people,  while  this 
gave  certain  exclusive  and  undeniable  privileges  to  the  first- 
comers. 

At  all  events,  it  gave  me  a  tolerably  sound  notion  of  the 
contradictions  of  Mexican  liberty. 

The  public,  however,  probably  much  better  acquainted 
with  their  own  freedom  than  I  was,  quietly  dispersed ;  not, 
however,  without  having  left  their  names,  with  many  requests 
for  the  first  chances,  if  any  boxes  should  be  left  free  during 
the  next  month.  Amongst  these  was  the  French  Ambassador, 
M.  De  Levasseur,  who  several  times  called  upon  me,  and 
expressly  begged  me  to  keep  the  first  box  for  the  following 
month's  subscription,  which  might  not  be  retained  by  the  pre- 
sent subscribers,  for  himself. 

Nothing  could  have  passed  over  better,  than  did  our  first 
11* 


250  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

twelve  nights.  The  artists  were  applauded — the  subscribers 
were  delighted,  and  the  public  satisfied.  After  the  tenth  of 
June,  I  accordingly  announced  a  new  subscription,  giving 
three  days  for  reflection  to  the  previous  subscribers,  and 
stating  in  the  papers  and  by  posters,  that  those  boxes  which 
were  not  retaken  upon  the  third  day  subsequent  to  my  ad- 
vertisement, would  be  disposed  of  to  those  having  the  right 
of  pre-numeration  in  such  a  case. 

The  whole  of  the  boxes,  with  one  single  exception,  were 
retaken  upon  the  fourth  day.  This  box  had  previously  been 
engaged  by  the  banker,  Rubio. 

For  one  day  more,  I  waited,  and  then,  as  the  Senor  Rubio 
did  not  make  his  appearance,  I  offered  it  on  the  fifth  day  to 
the  French  Ambassador,  who  immediately  took  it  and  paid 
for  it.  The  receipt  for  the  cash  was  drawn  up  and  handed 
to  him,  together  with  the  tickets  and  certificate  for  the  box. 

On  the  fifth  day  (the  day  previous  to  the  commencement 
of  the  second  season)  Senor  Rubio  sent  his  servant  to  me,  to 
inform  me  that  he  had  decided  upon  retaining  his  box  for 
the  following  twelve  nights.  Even  could  I  have  given  him 
the  box,  this  message  was  not  accompanied  with  the  amount 
of  the  subscription.  Most  politely,  therefore,  did  I  send  him 
word,  that  I  regretted  not  being  able  to  comply  with  his 
demand ;  as,  after  having  waited  for  four  days,  I  had  con- 
ceived myself  justified  in  allowing  M.  De  Levasseur  to 
become  my  locataire. 

With  this,  I  had  supposed  the  matter  settled.  But  you 
may  judge  of  my  astonishment,  when  some  two  hours  later  I 
received  a  visit  from  a  member  of  the  Ayuntamento,  who 
also,  with  a  singular  regard  for  human  economy,  performed 
the  duties  of  a  Sheriff. 

"  Senor  Empresario  !"  he  said,  "  you  have  been  condemned 
or  fined  to  $100  penalty,  or  twenty-four  hours  prison,  for 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  251 

having  let  the  box  belonging  to  Senor  Rubio  to  another  per- 
son." He  wound  up  this  announcement  with  the  usual  satirical 
exclamation,  accompanied  by  the  raising  of  his  hat,  of — "  Dios 
eLibertad!" 

"  What !"  I  exclaimed,  "judged  and  condemned,  on  a 
simple  accusation  ?" 

"  Yes,  Senor !" 

"  Why,  I  have  had  no  chance  of  defending  myself.  Con- 
victed, before  I  had  even  received  a  summons  !  Is  this  the 
law  in  Mexico  ?" 

"  The  law  in  Mexico  is  that  you  must  pay,"  he  replied, 
"  or  go  to  prison.  Afterwards,  you  can  make  your  appeal 
against  the  fine  or  imprisonment."  He,  of  course,  ended  with 
the  usual  "Dios  eLibertad!" 

Not  being  inclined  to  resist  this  admirable  judgment,  I  paid 
the  $100.  At  any  rate,  said  I  to  myself,  I  now  know  at  what 
price  I  may  let  my  boxes  to  whom  I  please.  However,  my 
conclusion  was  not  based  upon  the  Codex  of  the  Mexican 
Republic.  The  first  Sheriff  had  not  quitted  my  apartment 
more  than  half  an  hour,  when  a  second  Sheriff  entered.  This 
one  summoned  me  to  appear  next  morning  before  the  Juez 
es  Letteras,  to  show  cause  why  I  should  not  deliver  up  the 
aforesaid  box  to  the  amiable  Senor  Rubio,  or  pay  damages  to 
him. 

"  Can  a  man  be  convicted  twice  in  Mexico,  Senor  Sheriff, 
for  the  same  offence  ?"  I  inquired. 

"  That  is  not  my  business,  Senor  Empresario !"  was  his 
reply. 

"  Nevertheless,"  I  persisted,  "  I  should  like  to  know  wheth- 
er a  murderer  or  assassin  can  be  garroted  twice  ?" 

"  All  I  have  to  tell  you,"  he  answered,  "  is,  that  you  must 
appear  before  the  Juez  es  Letteras  to-morrow  morning  at  nine 
o'clock"  As  usual,  he  concluded  this  information  with  the 


252  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

ordinary  ejaculation,  accompanied  by  a  reverential  lifting  of 
his  hat,  of  the  abominable  formula,  "  Dios  e  Libertad  /"  and 
then  took  himself  out  of  my  presence. 

Necessarily,  I  was  obliged  to  go  to  a  lawyer,  and  went  to 
one  of  the  best  in  the  Mexican  capital.  This  was  the  Sefior 
Olaguibel,  who  was  also  a  Senator  for  the  city,  in  the  Mexican 
Congress.  He,  at  once,  declared  that  the  complaint  of  Senor 
Rubio  was  noi  tenable.  Accordingly,  I  accompanied  him  on 
the  following  morning,  to  plead  our  cause. 

What  was  my  astonishment,  instead  of  going  with  him  to 
the  Courts,  to  find  myself  at  the  door  of  the  Judge's  private 
residence ! 

"  It  is  customary,  Senor  Max !"  he  observed,  when  I  com- 
mented on  its  singularity. 

We  were  shown  into  the  Judge's  bed-room,  where  that 
functionary  was  sitting  up  in  bed  in  his  night-dress  and  with 
a  silk  night-cap  on  his  bald  head.  It  may  be  imagined  that 
I  opened  my  eyes.  Soon  after,  the  counsel  for  the  plaintiff 
appeared.  Coffee  was  handed  round  to  us,  after  which  the 
Judge  removed  his  silk  night-cap  and  tucked  it  under  his 
pillow.  Then  offering  us  some  cigaritos,  he  lit  one  himself, 
reclined  his  head  upon  his  pillow,  and  closed  his  eyes  with  an 
appearance  of  the  most  profound  resignation — saying — 

"  You  can  begin,  Senores !" 

But  for  the  presence  I  was  in,  I  must  have  laughed  out- 
right at  that  very  presence. 

The  case  then  commenced. 

Counsel  for  the  plaintiff  claimed  the  box,  which  had  be- 
longed for  the  last  season  of  twelve  nights  to  Senor  Rubio,  as 
his,  by  right  and  privilege. 

Counsel  for  the  defendant  appealed  to  the  law  of  advertis- 
ing the  new  season  for  three  days — proved  that  such  had 
been  done  in  the  present  case,  and  showed  by  my  books,  and 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  253 

the  date  when  the  money  was  received  from  M.  De  Levas- 
seur  for  the  rent  of  the  box,  that  I  had  not  only  forborne 
letting  it  for  three  days,  but  for  five.  He  also  demonstrated, 
that  having  let  that  box  to  M.  De  Levasseur  and  received 
the  money  for  it,  I  could  have  no  right  nor  reason  to  require 
him  now  to  give  it  up. 

As  for  the  Judge,  he,  without  opening  his  eyes  until  the  case 
was  closed,  made  a  gesture  of  assent  to  everything  which  my 
counsel  advanced. 

When  Senor  Olaguibel  had  ended,  he  sate  bolt  upright  in 
bed,  with  his  eyes  wide  open,  offered  me  another  cigarito,  and 
then  and  there  delivered  his  judgment. 

This  was,  that  the  aforesaid  box  belonged  (!)  to  the  Senor 
Rubio,  and  must  be  delivered  to  him  before  the  evening,  or 
that  the  Manager  of  the  Gran  Teatro  di  Santa  Anna  must 
pay  five  hundred  dollars  damages. 

Before  I  had  a  chance  of  giving  any  instructions  to  Senor 
Olaguibel,  he  appealed  to  a  higher  Court  in  order  to  stay 
judgment.  On  the  same  day,  I  was  graciously  informed  that 
until  the  decision  of  the  case  (which  might  possibly  come  in 
six  months  or  a  year),  the  said  higher  Court  had  ordered 
that  the  aforesaid  box  should  be  closed  and  unoccupied  either 
by  its  original  owner,  Senor  Rubio,  or  its  present  owner,  Senor 
De  Levasseur,  or  any  other  living  person.  The  rescript, 
which  was  handed  to  me,  containing  this  order,  terminated 
with  the  usual  formula.  Need  I  say  that  this  was  "  Dios  e 
Libertad  /" 

When  I  went  to  M.  De  Levasseur  and  told  him  what  had 
happened,  he  informed  me  that  he  would  force  the  door  of 
the  box  which  he  had  paid  for. 

"  I  should  like  to  see,"  he  said,  "  who  here  will  dare  at- 
tempt preventing  the  Minister  of  the  French  Republic  from 
entering  his  box." 


254:  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

Entirely  satisfied  with  his  energetic  determination,  I  re- 
turned to  my  hotel  with  the  design  of  awaiting  the  result. 

In  the  evening,  the  Minister  of  France  came  to  the  Teatro 
di  Santa  Anna.  He  found  the  door  of  his  box  nailed  up, 
and  four  men  and  a  Corporal  in  the  Mexican  uniform,  with 
fixed  bayonets,  standing  before  it. 

M.  De  Levasseur  demanded  that  it  should  be  opened,  but 
the  Mexican  Secretary  of  State  for  Foreign  Affairs  hap- 
pened most  opportunely  to  pass  through  the  corridor,  at  this 
very  moment.  With  the  most  graceful  bonhommie,  he  invited 
the  French  Minister  into  the  President's  box,  and  begged  him 
by  no  means  to  interfere  with  the  rights  of  Senor  Rubio  and 
the  laws  of  Mexico.  Not  having  heard  this,  I  am  unable  to 
say  whether  he  terminated  his  graceful  little  speech  with  the 
customary — "  Dios  e  Libertad ! "  The  informant  who  re- 
tailed to  me  this  scene  was,  although  a  foreigner,  a  lengthy 
resident  in  the  country.  Probably  he  had  grown  so  accus- 
tomed to  the  phrase,  that  he  did  not  notice  it. 

On  the  following  morning,  M.  De  Levasseur,  not  being 
willing  to  involve  the  French  and  Mexican  nations  in  a  bloody 
war  on  account  of  an  Opera-box,  transferred  all  his  right  and 
title  in  it  to  Senor  Rubio.  Thus  was  this  complicated  affair 
settled. 

Be  not  surprised,  my  dear  sir,  if,  in  recalling  the  incidents 
of  my  operatic  campaign  in  Mexicp,  I  also  am  often  tempted 
to  exclaim  with  the  utmost  enthusiasm — "  Dios  e  Libertad  /" 

As  another  instance  of  Mexican  law  and  Mexican  justice, 
I  may  mention,  that  as  often  as  a  vocalist  got  really,  or  ima- 
ginarily,  or  wilfully  sick,  and  necessitated  a  change  in  the  per- 
formance which  had  been  announced  for  the  evening,  it  was 
the  unfortunate  Manager  who  was  fined  $100.  In  vain  was 
it,  that  I  represented  to  the  Governor  of  the  State,  and  even 
to  the  President  of  the  Republic,  His  Excellency  Senor 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  255 

General  Arista,  that  the  guilty  party  was  not  the  Manager. 
In  vain  did  I  endeavor  to  make  them  understand,  that  if  the 
artist  himself  was  the  party  who  had  to  pay  the  fine,  it  was 
more  than  probable  that  the  artist  would  manage  to  avoid 
getting  sick,  or  at  any  rate  so  sick  as  to  necessitate  a  change 
of  performance  after  the  bills  of  the  evening  had  been  publish- 
ed. The  only  answer  which  I  received  from  them,  was  this — 

"  That  the  Representatives  and  the  Senate  of  the  Repub- 
lic could  alone  modify  or  change  the  laws." 

Nevertheless,  I  must  exculpate  the  Republic  of  Mexico 
from  the  charge  of  treating  the  artists  altogether  with  an 
unfair  degree  of  leniency.  As  a  proof  of  the  fact  that  it 
does  not,  allow  me,  my  dear  sir,  to  relate  an  incident  which 
happened  towards  the  close  of  the  second  season's  subscrip- 
tion. 

Signor  Salvi  had  indulged  in  some  of  the  usual  flirtations 
(which  unindulged  in,  it  would  be  impossible  for  an  Italian 
tenor  to  exist)  in  Mexico.  Anxious  to  display  his  equestri- 
anism before  the  eyes  of  his  fair  Senora,  he  purchased  a  horse, 
and  intended  to  exhibit  himself  in  all  his  beauty  and  glory, 
astride  of  it,  in  the  Paseo.  Unfortunately  for  me,  he  had  not 
displayed  his  equestrianism  for  more  than  two  hundred  yards, 
when  his  Bucephalus  (a  remarkably  quiet  one,  by-the-bye), 
alarmed  by  the  bright  eyes  and  flirting  fan  of  some  passing 
Senorita,  started  and  reared.  Unable  to  keep  his  seat, 
Salvi  fell  from  his  steed  and  managed  to  break  his  arm.  He 
was  immediately  carried  home,  where  the  physician  who  was 
called  in  to  him  declared,  that  although  there  was  not  the 
slightest  danger,  it  would  very  certainly  be  six  weeks  at  the 
least  before  he  could  again  appear  upon  the  stage.  With 
this  announcement,  all  my  reasonable  prospects  of  continuing 
my  campaign  successfully,  vanished ;  for  it  cannot  be  denied 
that  Salvi  was  one  of  my  leading  attractions.  At  all  events,  I 


256  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

endeavored,  as  far  as  was  in  my  power,  to  remedy  this  un- 
foreseen misfortune  for  the  time  being.  The  Opera  an- 
nounced for  the  same  evening  was  Donizetti's  "  La  Favorita." 
As  I  knew  that  Forti  had  repeatedly  sung  this  part  before, 
and  had  even  requested  it  from  me,  as  a  favor,  I  went  to  him 
and  asked  him  to  be  kind  enough  to  undertake  it. 

Knowing  that  it  would  be  utterly  impossible  for  Salvi  to 
appear  for  several  weeks,  he  believed  that  his  time  was  ar- 
rived. At  any  rate,  he  showed  his  inclination  to  vault  into 
the  throne  which  had  heretofore  been  occupied  by  that 
tenor. 

Point-blank,  he  refused  to  sing  upon  this  evening.  His 
excuse  was  sickness. 

But,  as  if  determined  to  show  me  that  this  was  not  the 
actual  reason,  and,  at  the  same  time,  to  demonstrate  that  if 
not  a  better  vocalist,  he  was  at  any  rate  a  better  rider  than  his 
rival  (if,  indeed,  Salvi  could  be  called  the  rival  of  any  tenor 
who  has  been  in  this  country,  with  the  solitary  exception  of 
Mario),  he  went  on  the  very  same  evening,  on  horseback,  to 
the  neighboring  village  of  Tacubaya. 

Going  immediately  to  the  Governor,  I  informed  him  of 
what  had  happened.  He  chanced  to  be  in  a  good-humor, 
and  permitted  me  to  give  a  miscellaneous  Concert  on  that 
evening,  instead  of  the  Opera  which  had  been  announced, 
without  paying  the  customary  fine  of  $100.  In  the  mean 
time,  four  soldiers  with  a  Corporal,  the  usual  Operatic  quota, 
were  posted  at  the  Gate  of  Mexico  on  the  road  to  Tacubaya. 
Instructions  were  given  them  to  wait  for  the  return  of  the 
willing  absentee  from  his  Operatic  duties,  and  to  bring  him  as 
soon  as  he  entered  the  city  before  the  Governor. 

The  concert  took  place  during  his  absence,  and  I  am 
obliged  to  say  that  the  audience,  having  heard  of  Salvi's 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  257 

accident,  bore  Ford's  absence  with  the  most  exemplary 
equanimity. 

During  the  whole  night,  the  non-commissioned  officer,  with 
his  four  men,  waited  for  the  refractory  tenor.  At  about  nine 
o'clock  on  the  following  morning,  he  returned.  He  was  in 
high  spirits  touching  the  trick  which  he  had  played  me,  and 
was  humming,  as  I  was  afterwards  told,  one  of  the  very  airs 
from  "  La  Favorita "  which  he  had  so  decidedly  declined 
singing.  As  he  entered  the  city,  the  Corporal  strode  before 
him. 

"  You  are  the  Sefior  Forti  ?"  was  the  soldier's  address  to 
the  vocalist,  as  he  laid  his  hand  upon  the  bridle  of  his  horse. 

"  Yes  !  my  good  fellow,  I  am." 

"  Dismount,  then." 

"  But—" 

"  Dismount !" 

"  My  dear  sir,  what  on  earth  does  this  mean  ?" 

"  Dismount !" 

"  Allow  me  to  ask — "  commenced  the  trembling  tenor. 

"  Dismount !"  repeated  the  Corporal,  "  or  I  shall  be  obliged 
to  make  you." 

The  miserable  Forti  was  compelled  to  obey  the  imperative 
order  addressed  to  him,  by  a  man  to  whom,  twelve  hours 
before,  he  would  not  have  spoken  a  single  word. 

Then,  he  was  placed  between  two  of  the  soldiers,  while  the 
two  others  led  his  horse  between  them. 

"  Dios  e  Libertad 7"  said  the  corporal  reverently,  but  with- 
out removing  his  shako,  as,  in  obedience  to  his  orders,  they 
began  to  march  through  the  streets  of  Mexico  towards  the 
Deputation,  as  the  City  Hall  is  there  called. 

When  arrived  there,  the  tenor  was  immediately  carried 
before  the  Governor. 

What  was  my  astonishment,  on  learning  that  without  a 


258  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

trial,  and  even  without  a  hearing,  he  was  condemned  to  a 
fortnight's  imprisonment. 

This  order  was  at  once  carried  into  execution.  Without 
giving  him  time  even  to  change  his  clothes,  permitting  him 
to  get  clean  linen,  or  to  remove  the  spurs  from  his  boots,  he 
was  hurried  off  to  the  common  jail.  Here  he  was  thrust 
into  the  society  of  all  the  robbers,  thieves,  leperos,  and  other 
scoundrels,  who  had  incurred  the  notice  of  the  Mexican  law. 
Delighted  with  his  company,  these  respectable  gentlemen  dis- 
burdened him  in  the  first  fifteen  minutes  that  he  spent 
amongst  them,  of  his  watch  and  chain,  money,  rings,  spurs, 
cigar-box,  pocket-handkerchief,  riding-whip,  gloves,  and  other 
supernumerary  articles  as  they  conceived  in  such  an  esta- 
blishment. 

Now  this  was  a  just  visitation,  I  will  not  deny,  my  dear 
sir,  upon  Ford. 

But  you  must  observe  that  his  punishment  fell  with  double 
weight  upon  my  shoulders.  Salvi,  with  his  broken  arm  and 
confined  to  his  bed-room,  might  reasonably  grumble.  While 
Ford  in  prison,  and  thrown  among  such  company,  was  cer- 
tainly to  the  full  as  much  to  be  pitied.  But  the  miserable 
Manager  appeared  to  me  to  stand  in  the  least  enviable 
situation.  He  had  by  far  the  worst  in  the  matter.  They 
could  not  sing,  while  he  was  unable  to  give  Opera.  Their 
only  answer  was  required  by  him,  personally.  His  excuse 
must  be  given  to,  as  it  was  demanded  by  his  subscribers. 

Of  course,  we  all  visited  the  unfortunate  Forti,  bearing 
with  us  tokens  of  affection  as  well  as  of  our  pity  and  con  • 
dolence. 

One  bore  him  a  box  of  fragrant  Havanas.  Another  con- 
tributed a  cold  roast  turkey  to  his  creature  comforts.  This 
one  carried  him  a  bottle  of  brandy,  and  that  one  sent  him 
half  a  dozen  of  Champagne.  But,  ere  our  interview  with  him 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          259 

had  terminated,  these  had  all  vanished.  His  associates  in  the 
interior  of  the  prison  laughed  at  the  sympathy  of  his  friends 
without  the  walls.  They  held  the  doctrine  of  a  community 
of  property  amongst  the  compulsory  inhabitants  of  that  en- 
forced Republic  (let  me  here  exclaim  "  Dios  e  Libertadf") 
and  appropriated  to  themselves  the  larger  proportion  of  these 
gifts,  as  soon  as  he  had  received  them.  Some  devoured  the 
turkey,  and  others  drank  the  Champagne.  These  emptied 
his  bottle  of  brandy,  and  those  made  free  with  the  cigars. 
Nothing  was  left  of  them  save  the  bones,  the  bottle,  and  the 
box.  It  was  in  vain  that  a  Pate  de  Foie  gras  was  contri- 
buted to  the  list  of  his  imprisoned  enjoyments.  They  had 
cleaned  it  out  while  his  back  was  turned  and  he  was  talking 
to  his  benefactor.  Uselessly  was  a  cold  haunch  of  mutton 
sent  him.  In  ten  minutes  he  could  only  contemplate  the  dish 
upon  which  it  had  erewhile  stood. 

Meanwhile,  pitying  him  and  myself  too,  I,  the  miserable 
Manager,  had  besieged  the  Governor  with  supplications  for 
his  release. 

With  great  exertion,  the  permission  for  the  release  of 
Forti  was  obtained  by  me,  on  such  evenings  as  his  perform- 
ance might  be  required.  On  these  occasions,  he  was  accom- 
panied by  four  soldiers,  who  brought  him  to  the  theatre  and 
delivered  him  into  my  hands,  half  an  hour  or  an  hour  before 
the  Opera  commenced.  At  its  conclusion,  they  marched  him 
again  off  to  the  jail.  Pity  for  Forti,  after  this,  gained  fast 
upon  my  feelings.  Rehearsals  were  arranged,  which  neces- 
sitated his  presence,  and  he  was  kept  out  of  his  enforced 
residence  for  the  whole  of  the  day.  However,  he  had  still 
to  sleep  under  lock  and  key.  At  length,  upon  the  fifth  day, 
by  dint  of  the  most  unremitting  exertions,  I  obtained  from 
the  President  himself  the  remission  of  the  remainder  of  his 


260  REVELATIONS    OF  AN 

term  of  imprisonment,  or,  rather,  its  commutation  into  a  fine 
of  $100. 

After  this,  Forti  never  afterwards  missed  a  performance  in 
Mexico  for  sickness  (!)  or  any  other  cause. 

The  second  subscription  was  now  drawing  quickly  to  a 
close,  and  Salvi  was  not  expected  to  recover  sufficiently  to 
appear  before  the  scenes  for  some  four  weeks.  Under  such 
circumstances,  there  was  very  little  chance  of  getting  up  a 
third  subscription,  as  Forti  was  not  relished  as  a  primo  tenore 
by  the  public. 

As  I  was  meditating  upon  what  means  I  could  adopt,  or 
what  I  might  invent  for  the  purpose  of  raising  a  new  excite- 
ment or  keeping  up  the  old  one,  a  friend  and  acquaint- 
ance in  Mexico,  who  was  no  other  than  the  youngest 
son  of  the  unfortunate  Liberator  and  Emperor,  Iturbide, 
entered  my  apartment.  He  requested  me  to  accompany 
him  to  hear  a  young  lady  sing,  and  give  him  my  can- 
did opinion  respecting  her  talents.  Now  Don  Augustino 
Iturbide  had  in  several  instances  shown  himself  a  sincerely 
attached  friend  to  me,  and,  although  pre-occupied  with  my  own 
affairs,  I  could  not  refuse  him.  Therefore,  I  took  my  hat  and 
accompanied  him.  On  our  road,  he  informed  me  that  this 
lady  was  the  daughter  of  a  General  who  had  fallen  in  the 
war  of  Liberation.  The  pension  of  his  widow  being  by  no 
means  regularly  paid  by  the  government,  herself  and  her 
daughters  were  occasionally  reduced  to  extreme  poverty.  It 
was  consequently  in  the  hope  that  my  recommendation  and 
testimony  as  to  her  abilities  might  procure  for  the  daughter 
some  situation  as  a  church- vocalist,  that  he  principally  wished 
me  to  hear  her. 

We  arrived  at  the  house  of  her  mother,  and  I  was  intro- 
duced by  Seiior  Iturbide  to  his  protegee.  'She  was  both  young 
and  good-looking ;  but,  although  her  voice  was  a  tolerable 


OPERA  MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  261 

contralto,  let  me  own  that  I  was  by  no  means  satisfied  with 
her  singing. 

Nevertheless,  the  kindness  which  Iturbide  had  invariably 
shown  to  myself,  as  well  as  the  poverty  of  the  family  which  he 
had  made  known  to  me,  induced  me  to  promise  to  write  her 
a  complimentary  letter.  This  letter,  when  written,  she  might 
use  as  she  pleased. 

But  while  occupied  the  next  day  in  writing  this  epistle, 
the  idea  struck  me  that  it  might  be  possible  to  turn  her 
vocalism  to  far  better  account  for  her  necessities,  while  it 
might  prove  of  no  small  advantage  to  myself.  You  may  call 
it  a  stratagem,  my  dear  sir,  if  you  like ;  but  remember  that 
all  stratagems  are  fair  either  in  love,  war,  politics,  or  thea- 
trical management.  Has  not  Barnum  speculated  upon  the 
Feejee  Mermaid,  and  did  not  your  own  Lumley  bring  out  a 
native  contralto  baptized  as  the  Signora  Favanti  ?  Reflecting 
upon  these  two  instances  of  keen  management,  I  jumped  up 
and  paid  another  visit  to  the  lady.  She  was  at  home,  and  I 
was  admitted  to  her  room,  where  she  was  seated  with  her 
mother,  speculating  on  the  probable  advantages  of  my  letter. 

"  Senorita,"  JL  said,  "  upon  reflection,  I  have  determined  not 
to  write  you  that  letter."  ' 

"  Senor !"  screeched  out  the  mother. 

"  Senor ! "  ejaculated  the  daughter,  in  her  two  highest  con- 
tralto notes.  "  You  cannot  be  so  cruel ! " 

"But,  Senorita " 

"  Why  did  you  promise  it  to  me  ?  " 

"  Will  you  allow  me  to  speak " 

"  It  is  unkind  and  ungentlemanly,  Senor,  in  the  extreme," 
almost  sobbed  out  the  daughter. 

"  Let  us  hear  what  he  has  to  say,  to  excuse  such  barbarous 
conduct,"  said  the  mamma. 

"  Excuse  it !    He  never  can." 


262  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

"  To  be  sure  lie  can't.  But  I  should  like  to  hear  him  try 
to  do  so." 

"  Very  well !     Senoras,  I  will." 

"Just  listen  to  him.  He  will  actually  try  to  do  so!" 
moaned  the  young  lady. 

Then,  for  a  moment,  both  of  them  were  silent.  Like  a 
skilful  general,  I  seized  on  the  opportunity  to  open  my  bat- 
teries. 

"  Senora,"  I  said,  with  an  air  of  the  most  profound  respect, 
turning  to  the  parent,  "  on  thinking  this  matter  over,  I  have 
come  to  the  conclusion  that  your  daughter's  great  talents  and 
profound  musical  taste  would  be  cqmpletely  sacrificed,  were 
she  condemned  to  execute  nothing  but  church-music." 

The  daughter  was  partially  mollified,  and  recovered  her 
self-possession  as  she  listened  to  this  delicately  put  bit  of 
flattery ;  but  the  unappeased  mother  was  by  no  means  so 
easily  satisfied. 

"  That  may  be  all  very  well,  Senor ;  but  what  on  earth  is 
she  to  do  with  them  ? " 

"  Go  upon  the  stage,  Senora ! " 

Had  a  bomb-shell  fallen  through  the  window,  between  the 
three  of  us,  it  could  scarcely  have  produced  a  more  astound- 
ing effect  than  this  piece  of  advice  did. 

"The  stage!"  screamed  the  younger  lady,  springing  to 
her  feet.  "Never!  Senor." 

"  The  stage ! "  groaned  the  elder  dame,  sinking  back  in  her 
chair.  "  What  would  her  deceased  and  much-respected  pa- 
rent, my  lamented  and  never-enough-to-be-wept-for  husband 
say,  if  he  only  heard  this?" 

"I    am   willing   to   offer  her   an   engagement  for   two 
months." 

"  For  two  months ! "  repeated  the  mother.    But  I  remarked 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  263 

that   the   younger   lady   remained    perfectly   silent.      This 
gave  me  some  hope. 

"  At  $400  per  month." 

"  $400  !"  ejaculated  the  mother,  looking  at  her  daughter  in 
astonishment. 

"  To  be  paid  in  advance ! "  I  said,  taking  out  my  pocket- 
book. 

The  last  shot  told. 

"  Senor,"  modestly  uttered  the  daughter,  "  I  am  totally  un- 
able to  resist  such  astonishing  liberality." 

The  treaty  was,  therefore,  speedily  concluded.  Pen,  ink 
and  paper  being  brought  me,  I  drew  up  the  duplicate  con- 
tracts, and  handed  them  to  the  younger  Senora  to  sign.  Then 
I  signed  them,  myself.  Handing  her  one  of  them,  I  drew  a 
blank  order  on  the  treasurer  of  the  company  out  of  my  porte- 
feuille,  and  filled  it  up  for  the  sum  which  was  stipulated. 
This  I  passed  to  her.  The  crisp  paper  crackled  in  her  white 
little  fingers,  as  she  received  the  legibly  filled  draft. 

u  And  now,  Senorita,  you  must  begin  to  work,  and  at  once." 

"  I  am  ready,  Senor ! " 

"  You  yesterday  sung  to  me  some  of  the  music  belonging 
to  the  r6le  of  Arsace,  in  the  '  Semiramide.'  "We  will  begin 
with  that." 

"  Senor,  I  am  perfectly  willing." 

"  When  can  you  be  ready  ?"     I  inquired. 

"  In  one  week." 

"With  a  profound  bow  I  took  my  leave,  oemg  convinced 
that  I  had  saved  my  next  month's  season  from  the  danger 
which  had  been  threatening  it. 

Necessarily,  Don  Augustino  Iturbide  was  informed  of  this 
engagement.  He  was,  however,  requested  to  keep  it  secret 
for  a  few  days.  In  the  meantime,  the  last  evening  of  the 
second  subscription  had  arrived,  but  no  programme  for  a  third 


264  REVELATIONS  OP    AN 

had  been  issued,  and  the  indifference  of  the  public  was  suffi- 
ciently evidenced,  in  the  fact,  that  no  inquiries  of  any  kind 
had  been  made  respecting  it.  It  was,  therefore,  clear  enough, 
that  this  engagement  had  been  the  only  chance  left  me,  in 
consequence  of  Salvi's  unlucky  mishap,  for  prolonging  the 
excitement  which  had  previously  existed  with  regard  to  the 
Italian  Opera. 

My  plan  for  the  opening  of  the  next  month's  campaign  had 
been  silently  and  very  carefully  prepared. 

Independently  of  Salvi,  I  had  determined  that  the  company 
should  make  a  pecuniary  success. 

Therefore,  between  the  first  and  second  Acts  of  the  per- 
formance on  this  evening,  I  caused  the  intelligence  to  be 
circulated  in  the  lobbies  of  the  house,  by  a  few  of  my  Mexican 
friends,  that  after  two  or  three  more  "  farewell"  nights,  it  was 
my  intention  with  my  whole  company  to  quit  Mexico. 

This  intelligence,  at  once,  kindled  something  like  regret  in 
the  minds  of  those  who  had  patronized  the  Opera.  They  felt 
that  with  my  quitting  them,  they  would  possibly  lose  for  a 
long  period  the  chance  of  having  any  Operatic  entertainment 
in  the  Mexican  capital.  In  consequence  of  this  feeling, 
several  of  the  more  distinguished  subscribers  came  to  me  at 
the  close  of  the  second  Act,  to  inquire  whether  it  would  be 
impossible  for  me  to  remain,  could  another  month's  subscrip- 
tion be  arranged  for  me.  Naturally,  I,  by  no  means,  told 
them  that  it  was  my  intention  to  do  so,  in  any  case.  A  cir- 
cular had  already  been  printed  by  my  orders,  which  was  dis- 
tributed throughout  the  boxes  and  every  part  of  the  theatre, 
during  the  interval  which  passed  between  the  third  and  fourth 
Acts  of  the  Opera.  This  circular  contained  an  invitation  to 
the  subscribers  to  come  upon  the  next  evening,  and  "  attend 
an  Extraordinary  Grand  Performance,  gratuitously  given  to 
them,  as,  after  their  great  liberality,  the  Manager  was  un- 


OPERA   MANAGER    IN   AMEKICA.  265 

willing  to  reckon  the  Miscellaneous  Concert  given  on  the 
occasion  when  Signer  Forti  had  declined  appearing,  as  one 
of  the  regular  subscription  nights."  It  was  further  said  "  that 
the  Manager  trusted  the  subscribers  would  accept  the  invita- 
tion, as  an  evidence  of  his  grateful  feelings  towards  them." 

This  was  so  perfectly  new,  that  it  completely  took  them  by 
surprise.  So  rarely  does  any  Manager  give  those  who  sup- 
port him  more  performances  than  the  number  agreed  on  (the 
contrary,  indeed,  being  generally  the  case),  that  they  were 
unable  to  restrain  their  expressions  of  astonishment.  More- 
over, the  concluding  lines  appeared  to  intimate  that  we  were 
about  to  bid  them  a  speedy  farewell.  Little  else  was  now 
wanting  to  kindle  their  enthusiasm. 

On  the  following  day  numerous  communications  and  in- 
quiries, touching  another  subscription,  proved  to  me  that  the 
dose  given  under  my  treatment  had  operated  beneficially. 

In  the  evening,  upon,  my  entrance  in  the  Orchestra,  I  was 
loudly  and  vehemently  cheered.  This  proved  to  me  that 
their  enthusiasm  had  recovered  from  its  sickliness,  and  was 
again  warming  to  a  respectable  blood-heat. 

Accordingly,  after  the  first  Act,  circulars  were  again  dis- 
tributed through  the  house.  These  announced,  that,  on  the 
following  day,  a  third,  subscription  for  twelve  nights  would  be 
opened,  during  which  "  The  Mexican  prima  donna,  Senorita 
Eufrasia  Amat,  would  make  her  first  appearance  upon  any  stage, 
as  Arsace,  in  Rossini's  Grand  Opera  of  "  Semiramide."  This 
was  followed  by  a  biography  of  the  Senorita  Eufrasia, 
drawn  up  in  the  regular  fashion  of  such  biographies.  Her 
father's  services  and  his  distinguished  gallantry  as  shown  in 
the  war  for  the  liberation  of  his  country  from  the  Spanish 
yoke,  were  recalled  in  a  manner  sufficient  to  make  every 
Mexican  heart  beat  with  pride  and  patriotism.  And,  finally, 
I  declared  "  myself  most  happy  to  have  discovered  in  the 

12 


266  REVELATIONS   OF  AN 

daughter  of  this  hero"  (who,  unfortunately,  had  been  previ- 
ously forgotten  by  his  countrymen)  "  such  transcendent  vocal 
qualifications"  (I  was  very  careful  not  to  call  them  such 
transcendent  vocal  excellencies)  as  to  justify  me  in  entertain- 
ing the  belief  that  Mexico's  native  prima  donna  would,  at 
some  future"  (this  adjective,  my  dear  sir,  was  very  carefully 
inserted)  "  day,  shine  as  a  star  of  the  first  magnitude  among 
the  Operatic  celebrities  of  the  world." 

It  would  be  needless  to  say  that  the  public  was  in  raptures, 
at  this  announcement. 

In  the  moment  of  their  excitement,  no  one  remembered 
that  Signer  Salvi  would  be  unable  to  sing  during  the  period 
of  the  third  subscription.  He  was,  for  the  time,  totally 
forgotten. 

Nay,  I  believe  that  nobody  thought  of  anything  else  than 
rushing  to  the  box-office,  for  the  purpose  of  prolonging  their 
subscription. 

No  sooner  had  this  announcement  gone  forth,  than  Don 
Augustino  Iturbide  and  his  friends  took  it  upon  themselves 
to  see  that  a  purely  patriotic  encouragement  was  not  wanting 
the  Mexican  contralto.  On  the  evening  of  her  debut,  milita- 
ry bands,  playing  the  national  hymn  and  other  Mexican  airs, 
were  stationed  outside  of  the  Teatro  di  Santa  Anna.  The 
exterior  of  the  building  was  brilliantly  illuminated ;  while  the 
audience-portion  of  the  house  was  decorated  with  garlands  of 
flowers,  and  a  plentiful  supply  of  bouquets  and  poetry  was 
provided.  Need  I  tell  you,  that  none  of  this,  my  good  sir, 
was  done  by  the  management.  The  whole  of  it  came  out  of 
the  pockets  of  the  patriots  of  Mexico. 

But,  I  see  that  you  are  about  to  inquire  of  me,  how  she 
succeeded  ? 

You  perhaps  imagine  that,  having  exhausted  Europe  in 


OPERA    MANAGER    IN    AMERICA.  267 

the  search  for  novelties,  you  may  at  last  find  one  in  the  New 
World. 

If  so,  believe  me,  you  are  in  error.  It  may  be  naturally 
supposed  that,  in  the  excitement  of  the  performance,  the  pub- 
lic occupied  with  reading  the  sonnets  addressed  to  the  Seno- 
rita  Eufrasia,  and  placed  (printed,  I  should  observe,  in  gold 
letters,  upon  tissue-paper)  in  all  of  the  boxes,  had  no  time  to 
appreciate  the  miraculously  discovered  qualifications  (re- 
member, I  do  not  say  excellencies)  of  the  daughter  of  their 
previously  unappreciated  hero.  At  any  rate,  so  it  was.  Yet, 
we  both  realized  our  object.  My  third  subscription  was  as 
good  as  either  of  my  two  first,  in  spite  of  Signor  Salvi's 
having  broken  his  arm.  Donna  Eufrasia  Amat,  although  she 
may  not  shine  at  the  present  moment  as  a  vocal  star,  was  in- 
dubitably paid  $800  for  her  first  appearance  before  the 
Mexican  public,  and  in  all  probability  obtained  her  desired 
situation,  as  a  church  vocalist,  in  the  Capital  of  Mexico. 

After  the  twelve  nights  had  terminated,  the  broken-armed 
tenor  recovered  his  capability  of  appearing  on  the  stage. 

We  therefore  remained  for  several  months  in  the  city, 
with  somewhat  varying  luck. 

At  length,  the  Revolution  which  was  fomented  in  Guada- 
laxara  against  the  President,  spread  into  the  State  of  Mexico. 
From  that  moment,  the  business  became  not  only  bad,  but 
disastrous.  After  some  reflection,  I  determined  upon  return- 
ing to  New  York,  instead  of  proceeding  ,into  the  interior  of 
the  Republic,  as  we  had  at  first  proposed  doing.  Indeed,  the 
day  of  our  departure  had  been  already  fixed,  when  on  one 
morning,  a  communication  was  received  by  me  from  the 
Ministro  di  Hacienda  (an  official,  holding  a  position  equiva- 
lent to  our  Secretary  of  State  for  the  Treasury)  which  invi- 
ted me  to  wait  upon  him.  What  on  earth  this  invitation 
could  have  reference  to,  it  was  utterly  impossible  for  me  to 


268  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

imagine.  With  this  Minister  my  affairs,  up  to  the  present 
moment,  had  not  the  slightest  possible  connection.  Attend- 
ance however  to  such  an  invitation  in  Mexico  was  decidedly 
compulsory,  and  I  therefore  obeyed  it.  Receiving  me  with  the 
most  gracious  politeness,  and  after  having  requested  me  to  be 
seated  and  tendered  me  the  almost  inevitable  cigarito,  he 
thus  addressed  me : 

"  Do  you.  know,  Senor  Maretzek,  that  for  several  months 
you  have  neglected  to  pay  the  requisite  contributions  to  the 
State?" 

When  he  said  this,  I  stared  at  him. 

"  Indeed !  you  have  neglected  them  altogether." 

"  Excuse  me,  Excellency  !  I  have  paid  $100  every  month, 
and  have  sent  four  private  purses  to  the  Governor  of  the 
State,  not  reckoning  the  fines  and  penalties  which  the  Gov- 
ernor has  been  pleased  to  demand  from  the  management." 

u  I  see  you  do  not  understand  me." 

"  I  do  not,  your  Excellency." 

"  The  $100  each  month  are  required  for  your  license,"  he 
continued. 

"So  I  was  told." 

"  I  am  alluding  to  your  contributions." 

"  What  contributions  ?" 

"  By  the  laws  of  Mexico,"  he  replied,  "  every  artist  is 
obliged  to  pay  ten  per  cent,  from  his  salary,  as  a  contribution 
to  the  Treasury." 

Let  me  confess,  my  dear  sir,  that  I  was  not  altogether 
sorry  to  find  that  my  artists  were  likely  to  have  some  of  their 
wool  shorn  from  them.  In  forcing  me  to  raise  their  salaries 
some  sixty  per  cent,  more  than  they  had  been  in  New  York, 
they  had  certainly  seized  upon  not  only  the  lion's  share  of 
the  profits,  but  had,  latterly,  even  compelled  me  to  settle  with 
them  some  of  the  outstanding  scores  from  the  last  season  at 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  269 

the  Astor  Place  Opera  House,  where  we  had  been  working 
together  against  the  opposition  company. 

Therefore,  I  smilingly  replied  to  the  Minister,  "  All  your 
Excellency  will  have  to  do,  in  that  case,  will  be  to  ask  the 
artists  themselves  for  their  contributions," 

"  Oh  !  no.  By  no  means  !"  he  replied,  "  That  would  take 
up  by  far  too  much  time  and  trouble.  We  are  in  a  hurry 
(at  the  moment,  I  scarcely  understood  what  this  meant)  on 
account  of  the  troubled  state  of  affairs  in  this  country.  Now, 
the  law  is  very  explicit.  It  says,  most  clearly,  that  the  Em- 
presario  is  compelled  to  deduct  the  ten  per  cent,  demanded 
by  the  State,  and  to  retain  it  in  his  own  hands.  Consequent- 
ly, we  know  but  one  responsible  person  invariably,  and  in 
the  present  instance  this  person  is,  of  course,  yourself." 

"  But,  your  Excellency,  I  have  paid  t^em  their  salary,  not 
having  been  notified  that  there  was  such  a  law  in  existence." 

"  That  does  not  matter." 

"  Supposing  that  they  should  refuse — Italians  are  very  capa- 
ble of  refusing  the  payment  of  money — to  return  it  to  me." 

'•  You  can  take  it  from  their  future  salary,"  was  his  quiet 
and  curt  reply.  . 

"  Should  they  refuse  to  sing,  in  consequence  of  my  having 
done  so  ?" 

"  They  shall  be  compelled  to  sing,"  he  responded  with  a 
knowing  smile. 

"  But,  your  Excellency !  how  am  I  to  procure  the  money, 
supposing  their  engagement  is  at  an  end  ?" 

"  Then  you  must  pay  it  from  your  own  treasury." 

"  That  may  be  empty." 

"  Then  I  shall  simply  have  the  whole  of  your  personal 
property  seized." 

"  But,  if  I  should  have  no  property  here,  which  you  could 
lay  your  hands  upon  ?" 


270  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

"  In  such  a  case,"  he  responded  with  a  provoking  smile, 
K I  shall  secure  your  person." 

Meanwhile,  this  conversation  had  excited  me.  It  appeared 
such  a  wanton  exercise  of  power  to  fine  me  (you  will  remem- 
ber that  I  had  smiled  internally,  when  I  had  imagined  the 
fine  was  to  fall  only  upon  the  artists)  simply  for  having 
brought  into  Mexico  an  Italian  Operatic  Company,  that  I 
could  not  restrain  myself.  With  the  natural  interest  of  a 
stranger  and  an  American,  I  had  read  all  the  details  which 
were  published  of  the  Rebellion,  and  knew  almost  as  much 
as  any  private  individual  in  Mexico  at  that  period  could  have 
known,  of  the  situation  of  the  government.  Consequently,  I 
replied — 

"  In  a  few  days,  your  Excellency,  I  may  be  liberated." 

"  How  so?"  he  coolly  inquired. 

"  Forsooth  !  it  appears  to  me  pretty  clear.  A  new  President 
and  a  new  Secretary  of  State  may  possibly  interfere  in  the  mat- 
ter." 

He,  however,  did  not  lose  his  temper.  But  smiling  on  me 
with  a  serene  lookof  the  most  gracious  benevolence,  he  replied — 

"  That  is  very  true.  But  in  the  mean  time  we  are  in  a 
state  of  siege.  Remember  this,  if  you  please  to  do  so,  Senor 
impresario  !  I — "  he  laid  an  ugly  emphasis  on  the  "  /' — 
"  can  do  what  I  please  with  you." 

This  last  remark  which  he  had  made,  had  sufficient  truth 
in  it  to  tone  down  my  excitement  considerably.  Accordingly, 
I  remained  silent  for  two  or  three  minutes.  While  I  did  not 
speak,  I  was  revolving  in  my  own  mind  what  was  to  be  done. 
At  last,  I  decided  on  resuming  the  conversation. 

"  And  how  much,  your  Excellency,  is  it  that  I  am  re- 
quired to  contribute  ?" 

"  Upon  my  word,"  he  replied,  "  that  is  a  difficult  matter  to 
say.  However,  in  order  not  to  lose  any  time"  (he  was  evi- 
dently in  a  great  hurry)  "  let  us  sav  $5000.  Provided  you 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  271 

pay  me  this  at  once,  I  shall  be  contented  to  give  you  a  receipt 
in  full  for  the  seven  months." 

"  Your  Excellency,"  I  replied,  rising  from  my  seat,  "  will 
have  the  kindness  to  send  me  a  written  order  (!)  to  this  ef- 
fect. I  shall  consult  my  lawyer,  and  if  I  find  that  I  am  com- 
pelled to  liquidate  it,  I  presume  that  I  must  do  so." 

"  Don  Max,"  he  replied,  "  you  shall  receive  the  order." 
When  he  had  said  this  I  quietly  bowed  to  him,  and  retired 
without  saying  another  word. 

Returning  home  (or  rather  returning  to  my  temporary  apart- 
ments in  the  city),  I  determined  not  yet  to  apply  to  a  lawyer. 
Knowing  sufficient  of  the  Mexican  internal  politics,  to  see  that 
every  ho«r  saved  would  be  so  much  gained  in  the  attempt  to 
evade  the  settlement  of  this  most  unjust  demand,  I  determined 
at  present  upon  the  observation  of  a  masterly  neutrality. 
However,  the  Secretary  of  State  was  by  no  means  inclined  to 
let  such  a  valuable  pecuniary  case  as  mine  was,  slumber.  In 
less  than  two  hours,  therefore,  I  received  from  him  the 
"  written  order."  It  was  remarked  by  me,  that  the  individual 
who  bore  it  was  not  an  official  servant  of  the  Ministry.  He 
appeared  more  like  a  humble  personal  dependant  attached  to 
the  person  of  the  Secretary,  himself.  Indeed,  I  was  confirmed 
in  this  idea,  by  seeing  him  look  carefully  round  the  room  to  see 
that  no  one  (my  wife  alone  was  present)  was  in  it,  but  himself  and 
your  "  highly-respected  and  many-talented"  servant,  the  Se- 
nor  Max  Maretzek.  Then,  bowing  very  profoundly,  he  inti- 
mated to  me  that  the  Ministro  di  Hacienda,  wished  me 
immediately  to  return  to  him,  as  he  thought  that  this  matter 
might  be  arranged  without  the  assistance  or  interference  of  a 
lawyer. 

In  obedience  to  this  hint,  I  accordingly  returned  with  this 
person  to  the  Ministry.  On  being  shown  into  the  same 
apartment  I  had  previously  seen  the  minister  in,  I  found,  in- 


272  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

stead  of  the  Secretary  of  State,  another  high  functionary  of 
the  government,  who  after  asking  me  to  be  seated,  also  ten- 
dered me  another  of  the  inevitable  cigaritos.  This,  naturally 
enough,  I  did  not  dare  to  refuse.  As  I  took  and  lit  it,  the 
following  conversation  ensued  between  us. 

"  This  matter,  Senor  Maretzek — "  he  commenced. 

"  The  matter  of  the  contribution,  your  Excellency  ?  "  I  in- 
quired. 

"  Precisely !  It  has  been  reconsidered.  If  the  State  did 
not  in  its  present  position  actually  require  money,  it  would 
not  be  so  pressing.  But  the  present  rebellion  has  completely 
drained  the  Treasury,  and  forces  us  to  make  the  present  de- 
mand. Therefore,  we  are  unable  to  help  you."  0 

Here  he  stopped  speaking,  as  if  he  expected  an  answer. 
But  I  was  silent,  and  he  continued  after  a  momentary  pause — 

"  If  you  will  immediately  pay  $3000  instead  of  $5000, 
you  may  consider  the  matter  settled." 

"  I  have  to  inform  your  Excellency,  that  I  shall  do  nothing 
of  the  sort," 

"Now,  pray  do  not  get  excited,  Senor  Empresario!"  he 
replied,  as  he  noticed  my  anger.  "  Let  us  talk  like  men  of 
the  world." 

Saying  this,  he  looked  round  him  to  see  that  the  doors  of 
the  apartment  were  closed,  and,  then  drawing  his  chair  nearer 
to  mine,  he  gazed  into  my  face.  Laying  his  hand  upon  my 
knee,  he  said  in  a  remarkably  confidential  tone  of  voice— in- 
deed I  am  not  aware  that  I  should  be  doing  wrong,  in  calling 
it  a  whisper — 

"  If  you  give  us  $3000,  we — why,  we  will  give  you  a  re- 
ceipt for  $5000 !  Eh !  Senor  Max !  What  do  you  think  of 
this  arrangement?" 

"  Simply,"  I  replied,  "  that  I  do  not  understand  what  it 
means." 


OPERA    MANAGER    IN    AMERICA.  273 

"  It  means  this,  Senor ! "  he  answered.  "You  can,  should 
you  wish  to  do  so,  retain  $5000  from  the  salaries  of  your 
artists,  having  only  paid  the  government  $3000  out  of  your 
receipts." 

"  Well,  then,  supposing  I  decline  this  offer?" 

"  But  you  will  not  do  so." 

"  I  am  by  no  means  so  certain  of  that  fact,  your  Excel- 
lency ! " 

He  looked  at  me,  as  though  he  could  not  believe  in  the  pos- 
sibility of  this. 

"  Or,  supposing  that  my  artists  positively  decline  permitting 
me  to  retain  even  the  first  claquo  from  their  salary." 

"  In  either  case,  Senor  Maretzek,  I  shall  be  obliged  to  put 
the  following  rescript  in  execution." 

As  he  said  this,  he  took  a  paper  from  his  pocket,  unfolded 
it,  and  displayed  it  to  me.  It  was  a  signed  and  sealed  order 
for  the  seizure  of  the  receipts  at  the  door  of,  as  well  as  any 
other  property  in  the  Teatro  di  Santa  Anna,  upon  the  same 
evening.  When  I  saw  this,  the  blood  rushed  into  my  face, 
and  I  felt  myself  trembling  with  passion.  What  was  to  be 
done  ?  A  thousand  thoughts  passed  through  my  mind,  and 
one  of  them  appeared  to  me  to  present  a  possible  solution  to 
my  difficulties.  I  accordingly  rose  from  my  seat. 

" Knowing  the  existence  of  this  order,"  I  said,  "I  shall 
give  no  performance  on  this  evening." 

His  face  showed  me  that  he  had  not  reckoned  upon  this 
probability. 

"  Moreover,  I  shall  state  to  the  public  my  reasons  for  not 
doing  so." 

"  You  shall  not  be  allowed  to  speak ! " 

"  Then  I  will  write  or  print." 

It  was  now  his  turn  to  become  excited,  and  let  me  do  him 
the  justice  to  say,  my  good  sir,  that  his  excitement  was  far 

12* 


274  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

more  demonstrative  than  mine  had  been.  He  stamped,  ges- 
ticulated and  threw  his  arms  about,  as  only  a  Spaniard,  an 
Italian,  a  Portuguese  or  a  Mexican  can  do.  Something  like 
the  names  of  half  a  dozen  of  the  more  respectable  Mexican 
Saints  escaped  from  his  lips,  the  while  he  was  thus  amusing 
himself.  At  length,  he  partially  calmed  down  and  resumed 
the  conversation,  although  his  lips  were  white  and  his  fingers 
quivering,  the  while  he  did  so. 

"  For  the  sake  of  the  Holy  Virgin !  Senor  Maretzek !"  he 
said,  "  if  you  will  not  pay  $3000,  let  us  make  some  arrange- 
ment together." 

I  shook  my  head,  in  reply  to  this  adjuration. 

"Let  us  say  $2500!" 

"  I  cannot,  your  Excellency." 

"  Make  me  some  offer ! " 

Again  I  shook  my  head. 

"  What  will  you  pay  ?  "  he  asked. 

"  If  it  is  possible — nothing  !  " 

"  Let  me  assure  you,  Senor,  that  you  will  cause  yourself 
serious — very  serious  annoyance,  if  you  decline  settling  this 
matter." 

While  he  uttered  this,  he  had  been  pacing  the  chamber,  but 
on  its  conclusion  again  approached  me,  and  in  a  confidential, 
imploring,  good-fellow-like  style  of  tone,  thus  appealed  to  me  : 

"  Now,  my  dear  Senor  Max  !  do  be  reasonable.  Give  us 
$2000 — only  $2000 !  If  possible,  we  will  pay  it  back  to 
you  when  we  have  settled  the  present  disturbances.  Now, 
be  a  good  friend  to  us,  and  give  us  $2000." 

Willingly  would  I,  at  the  momentj  have  paid  him  this  sum 
for  the  chance  of  daring  to  laugh  in  his  face,  when  I  saw  the 
turn  which  matters  were  taking.  However,  foreseeing  that 
it  would  be  somewhat  difficult  to  evade  complying  in  some 
fashion  with  a  portion  of  his  demands,  I  jestingly  said  to  him — 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          275 

"  I  will  give  your  Excellency  no  more  than  $1000 — be- 
lieve me." 

"  That  is  not  enough." 

"  I  can't  help  it." 

"  Now  do  not  be  quite  so  hard-hearted,  my  dear  friend. 
In  the  name  of  San  Jose,  give  us  at  least  $1800. 

"  Not  one  claquo  over  $1000 !"  was  my  brief  and  sharp 
reply. 

"  By  the  Holy  Virgin  and  the  Twelve  Apostles  !  you  are 
too  hard  upon  us,"  he  uttered  imploringly.  "  Let  us  finish. 
We  will  take  $1500." 

"  Not  a  single  claquo  above  $1000." 

"Well!  say  $1200?" 

"  No !" 

"  By  Santa  Guadaloupa  !  you  are  the  most  difficult  man  to 
deal  with,  I  ever  met.  Suppose  we  say  $1100,  my  very 
good  Senor?" 

"  I  have  named  the  amount,  your  Excellency !" 

"  Well !  What  must  be,  must  be,  I  suppose,"  was  his 
reply.  "  Hand  me  over  the  $1000." 

It  was  all  I  could  do  to  stifle  my  laughter.  Not  a  single 
word  more  could  I  have  spoken  in  his  presence,  without 
abandoning  myself  to  its  paroxysms.  So  I  seated  myself  at 
his  table,  and  wrote  out  an  order  upon  my  banker,  for  $1000. 
When  I  arose  from  my  seat  and  handed  it  to  him,  he  gave 
me  a  receipt  in  full  for  my  seven  months'  contributions  to  the 
expenses  of  the  State.  This  receipt,  my  dear  sir,  I  still 
have.  It  is  preserved  as  a  slight  memorial  of  my  having 
contributed  my  share,  to  give  the  Mexican  Ministro  di  Haci- 
enda the  means  of  retiring  into  private  life.  You  ask  me 
what  I  mean  by  the  last  phrase.  Simply  this.  On  the  fol- 
lowing morning,  the  news  throughout  the  city  was  that  the 
President  Arista  had  abdicated,  having  quitted  Mexico  in  a 


276  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

clandestine  manner  on  the  preceding  night.  As  a  new 
Ministry  was  immediately  formed,  it  was  easy  enough  to 
divine  why  the  old  Secretary  had  been  in  such  a  hurry  to 
obtain  my  contribution  to  the  expenses  of  the  State,  the  day 
before  the  new  incumbent  came  into  office. 

Under  the  circumstances  arising  from  the  disturbed  con- 
dition of  Mexico,  it  was  evident  to  me  that  in  another  week, 
another  Ministry  of  State  might  require  another  contribution 
towards  the  expenses  of  another  government.  Not  being  a 
Mexican,  it  may  be  supposed  that  I  had  not  another  $1000's 
worth  of  patriotism,  which  I  should  particularly  relish  in- 
vesting in  it.  Moreover,  on  mentioning  this  fact  to  my 
artists,  singular  to  relate,  they  were  all  of  my  opinion.  Such 
a  strange  unanimity  has  rarely  been  before  evinced  (at  any 
rate,  under  my  management  it  never  has)  by  any  Italian 
Operatic  Company.  Therefore,  upon  a  brief  consultation, 
we  decided  that  it  would  be  expedient  to  pack  up  our  trunks, 
and  to  return  by  Puebla,  to  Vera  Cruz.  Anarchy  had  not, 
as  yet,  spread  to  these  two  cities,  and  we  all  divined  the  pos- 
sibility of  making  some  advantage  of  the  time  yet  remain- 
ing to  us,  as  we  fled  before  her  very  visible  and  rapid 
approach. 

Upon  the  same  day,  consequently,  I  engaged  two  entire 
stages  or  diligences,  without  experiencing  any  of  the  same 
difficulty  which  had  attended  my  arrangements  with  the 
Postmaster  of  Vera  Cruz. 

Also,  I  may  here  state,  that  the  appearance  of  the  whole 
company  was  strangely  different  on  the  morning  of  our 
departure,  to  what  it  had  been  some  eight  months  before. 

When  they  arrived  at  the  post-house,  they  looked  rather 
like  a  horde  of  Mexican  banditti  than  a  peaceful  company 
of  Italian  vocalists.  You  might  almost  have  smelt  blood 
amongst  them,  as  they  passed  under  your  nose.  All  were 


OPERA    MANAGER    IN    AMERICA.  277 

armed  to  the  teeth.  Each  one  of  them  carried  a  double- 
barrelled  gun,  two  revolvers,  and  a  huge  Bowie  knife. 
Even  the  very  ladies  looked  like  the  Amazonian  warriors  of 
a  former  age,  dressed  and  armed  in  the  fashion  of  the 
present  day.  Not  one  of  them  was  there,  who  did  not  carry 
her  pistol.  Indeed,  one  of  the  male  members  of  the  com- 
pany (Herr  Kreutzer)  had  provided  himself  with  a  small 
brass  cannon,  which  he  had  very  scientifically  loaded  with 
thirty  pistol  bullets,  and  I  am  unable  to  say  how  many  pounds 
of  powder.  Suffice  it,  that  I  prayed  with  a  most  earnest 
and  exemplary  fervor  that  we  might  fall  among  no  banditti. 
This  would  preclude  his  having  any  chance  of  discharging 
the  formidable  weapon,  which,  it  was  feared  by  me,  might 
very  possibly  have  done  much  more  damage  to  his  allies 
than  to  his  enemies.  < 

In  fact,  each  of  the  stages  resembled  a  moving  fortress. 
As  either  of  them  contained  nine  seats,  three  of  which  were 
in  the  centre,  these  last  were  exclusively  occupied  by 
ladies. 

On  either  side  of  them,  sat  three  gentlemen,  each  with  his 
bellicose  double-barrel  leaning  out  of  the  windows  .of  the 
diligence. 

Upon  the  top  of  either  stage,  immediately  behind  the 
driver,  sate  two  well-armed  servants,  for  the  purpose  of  keep- 
ing a  sharp  look-out,  and  giving  the  alarm  in  case  of  any 
suspicious-looking  characters  appearing  upon  the  road. 

Indeed,  we  had  taken  the  trouble  of  warning  the  two 
drivers,  that  if,  in  case  of  an  attack  upon  the  party,  they 
should  either  stop  or  upset  the  diligence  (a  somewhat  com- 
mon case,  in  Mexico,  being  their  collusion  with  the  whole- 
sale plunderers  on  the  highways)  at  that  instant,  the  two 
first  bullets  of  each  of  his  companions  would  be  destined  for 
his  head.  On  the  other  hand,  if  matters  went  on  smoothly, 


278  REVELATIONS    OP   AN 

a  round  bonus  was  promised  both  of  them  on  our  arrival  at  our 
destination.  I  feel  that  you  ask  me,  wherefore  we  had  taken 
these  precautions.  If  I  tell  you,  my  good  sir,  that  we  were 
laden  with  the  precious  metals,  you  must  not  impute  to  me 
the  folly  of  carrying  my  money  with  me.  That  which  I  had 
made  in  Mexico  had  already  been  forwarded,  through  a 
banking-house,  to  New  York.  The  members  of  my  com- 
pany, however,  had,  with  the  customary  avarice  of  Italian 
operatic  or  musical  artists,  preferred  bringing  theirs  with 
them,  for  the  sake  of  saving  the  ten  per  cent,  discount  on 
taking  bills  of  exchange  drawn  upon  the  United  States. 

Plenty  of  suspicious-looking  and  armed  riders  were  met 
by  us  on  the  road.  But,  either  our  formidable  appearance 
or  some  secret  warning  conveyed  to  them  by  our  drivers, 
caused  them  to  abandon  the  idea  of  making  any  hostile 
demonstration. 

Nor  must  you  think,  my  dear  sir,  that  I  am  at  all  roman- 
cing about  the  dangers  attendant  upon  travelling  in  Mexico. 

The  Mexican  robber  is  generally  both  cunning  and  daring. 
Some  of  their  bands  are  even  admirably  organized,  and  keep 
their  agents  in  the  Capital  and  others  of  the  principal  cities, 
through  whose  activity  regular  notice  is  transmitted  them  of 
any  occasion  which  may  chance  for  seizing  upon  a  rich  booty. 
Passports  are  occasionally  sold  by  these  agents,  at  a  high 
price,  which  the  traveller  has  only  to  show  when  attacked. 
He  is  then  permitted  to  continue  his  way  unmolested,  or  may, 
if  he  wishes  it,  partake  the  hospitality  of  these  ordinarily 
unscrupulous  gentlemen.  Neither  is  a  Mexican  bandit 
always  a  bandit,  unless  the  love  of  excitement  should  happen 
to  preclude  his  abandoning  his  professional  avocations.  Once, 
when  in  Tacubaya,  I  remarked  a  beautiful  villa,  with  a 
splendid  view  from  its  windows  across  the  lakes  of  the  city 
of  Mexico.  Being  somewhat  curious  as  to  the  ownership  of 


OPERA    MANAGER    IN    AMERICA.  279 

this  lovely  dwelling,  I  asked  a  ranchero  who  was  passing — 
"  to  whom  it  belonged  ?  " 

"It  is  Don 's,  who,  some  fifteen  years  since,  was  Cap- 
tain of  a  band  of  robbers." 

"Indeed!" 

"  Yes,"  he  naively  continued.  "  He  has  now  retired  from 
business." 

As  the  ranchero  gave  me  this  piece  of  information,  his 
countenance  was  as  calm  as  that  of  the  driver  of  a  New 
York  omnibus  might  have  been,  in  replying  to  a  question 
touching  the  residence  of  a  retired  ship-builder,  or  some 
Alderman  who  had  quitted  office. 

There  are  many  stories  afloat  about  these  Mexican  ban- 
ditti, of  more  or  less  veracity.  One  of  these,  I  am  unable 
to  refrain  from  mentioning  to  you,  although  it  has  little  con- 
nection with  the  main  object  of  this  letter. 

The  proceedings  in  the  criminal  courts  prove  its  truth.  A 
heavy  penalty  was  paid  for  its  daring  by  the  principal 
offender. 

One  of  the  leading  bankers  in  Mexico  was  a  particular 
friend  of  General  Santa  Anna,  when  he  was  many  years 
since  the  President  of  that  Republic.  While  this  friendship 
was  in  full  flower,  he  visited  the  General  for  the  purpose  of 
taking  leave  of  him  for  a  few  days.  The  reason  of  this  was, 
that  he  was  going  to  a  neighboring  city  to  marry  his  son  or 
one  of  his  sons  with  a  wealthy  heiress,  whose  place  of  resi- 
dence lay  in  that  neighborhood. 

"  I  congratulate  you,  my  dear  friend,"  said  Santa  Anna, 
"  I  presume  that  you  will  astonish  the  bride  with  the  trousseau 
you  have  provided." 

"  Why,  yes,  your  Highness,  I  rather  flatter  myself  that  I 
shall.  $30,000  are  a  tolerably  high  figure  for  jewelry,  and  silks 
and  satins." 


280  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

"  They  are,  indeed." 

"  Yet  such  is  the  amount,"  said  the  banker,  with  a  con- 
siderable degree  of  pride. 

"And  do  you  intend  carrying  that  amount  with  you?" 
asked  Santa  Anna. 

"Why  not?" 

"  Are  you  not  afraid  of  the  robbers  which  infest  the  roads 
to  the* Capital?" 

"  Not  at  all,  your  Highness !  I  have  this  time  outwitted 
them." 

"  How  so  ? "  inquired  Santa  Anna,  with  some  degree  of 
curiosity. 

"  I  will  tell  your  Highness,  confidentially,  of  course.  But  it 
must  go  no  farther." 

"  Certainly  not."     .: 

"  Last  week  I  received  a  carriage  from  Paris,  made  ex- 
pressly for  me.  With  this  carriage,  I  shall  certainly  puzzle 
the  rascals  if  they  attack  me." 

"Indeed!" 

"  It,  simply,  has  a  double  bottom.  But,  in  order  to  come  at 
it,  and  open  it,  it  is  necessary  to  remove  the  hind-wheels  and 
dismount  the  axle-tree.  Just  above  the  centre  of  this,  is  an 
invisible  spring.  Touch  this,  and  the  false  bottom  opens,  in- 
side the  carriage.  It  is  very  ingenious.  Is  it  not  ? ' 

"  Admirably  so,  my  friend ! " 

"  There  shall  I  stow  away  the  jewelry,  and  there  they  will 
certainly  not  find  it." 

"  It  is  unlikely." 

"  Say,  rather,  that  it  is  impossible,"  said  the  banker,  with  a 
triumphant  smile,  as,  amid  congratulations  and  witty  remarks, 
the  two,  friends  separated. 

Next  morning,  the  banker,  with  the  intended  bridegroom, 
left  Mexico.  They  were  scarcely  four  leagues  out  of  the 


OPERA    MANAGER    IX    AMERICA.  281 

* 

city,  when  the  carriage  was  stopped  by  a  dozen  or  more  of 
masked  banditti. 

The  banker  did  not  attempt  any  defence,  but  said  to  the 
robbers — 

"  Gdballeros  !  I  have  only  ten  i  ounces '  with  me.  You  are 
welcome  to  nine  of  them." 

The  chief  took  the  nine  "ounces"  which  were  offered  him, 
and  then,  with  great  courtesy,  requested  the  banker  and  his 
son  to  quit  the  carriage.  Naturally,  they  obeyed  him,  as  he 
and  his  companions  were  well  armed.  An  ironical  smile  curled 
the  banker's  lip  as  he  foresaw  that  they  were  going  to  search 
the  vehicle.  But  who  can  picture  his  intense  amazement, 
when  he  saw  that  no  sooner  had  he  placed  his  foot  upon  the 
ground,  than  two  of  the  robbers,  without  even  searching  the 
interior  of  it,  removed  the  hind-wheels  and  dismounted  the 
axletree.  Then,  they  touched  the  invisible  spring.  No 
sooner  had  they  done  so,  than  the  false  bottom  opened  inside 
the  carriage,  and,  bringing  a  sack  forward,  the  others  began 
to  fill  its  yawning  mouth  with  the  contents  of  that  which  he 
had  fancied  a  secure  hiding-place.  When  this  work  had 
been  completed,  the  Captain  of  the  band,  who  had  been  en- 
gaged in  watching  them,  advanced  towards  the  banker,  and, 
with  exemplary  politeness,  raised  his  hat. 

"Senor!"  he  said,  "if  the  'ounce'  which  is  left  in  your 
pocket  should  not  be  enough  to  carry  you  to  the  place  of  your 
destination,  I  shall  be  happy  to  advance  you  any  amount  yon 
may  require,  upon  your  note.  Your  banking-house  is  well 
enough  known,  to  warrant  my  cashing  anything  which  bears 
your  name." 

The  banker  declined  the  offer,  and  after  being  relieved  of 
his  unpleasant  companions,  abandoning  his  carriage  to  the 
care  of  the  driver,  returned  with  his  son,  on  horseback,  to 
Mexico.  » 


282  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

His  first  visit  was  to  Santa  Anna. 

"  I  thought,"  said  the  President,  "  that  you  had  already 
quitted  the  city." 

"  I  did  so,  your  Highness !  But  I  have  been  robbed,"  was 
the  answer. 

"  Robbed ! "  ejaculated  Santa  Anna. 

"  Yes !  your  Highness." 

"  But  the  double-bottomed  carriage ! " 

"  That  is  it,"  said  the  banker.  "  By  the  Holy  Virgin !  I 
tell  you  that  they  removed  the  hind-wheels,  dismounted  the 
axletree,  touched  the  spring,  and  carried  off  my  property." 

"  That  is  strange." 

"  Yes !  your  Highness,  it  is  strange — very  strange ;  and  so 
much  the  more  strange,  as  no  one  save  you  and  myself  knew 
the  secret  of  it." 

"  But  you  must  have  shown  it  to  somebody  else,  or,  how 
should  they  have  discovered  it?" 

"  To  no  one ! "  replied  the  banker. 

"  But  this  is  impossible." 

"  It  was  not.  I,  myself,  concealed  the  goods  without  help 
or  attendance,"  persisted  the  angry  banker. 

"  Why !  you  do  not  suppose  that  I  could  have  so  far  for- 
gotten myself  as  to  rob  you  ?  " 

"  No !  your  Highness,  I  do  not." 

"  What  do  you  mean,  then  ?" 

"  You  may  have  played  rather  too  brilliant  a  jest  upon 
your  humble  servant,"  angrily  continued  the  banker. 

"  Senor ! "  said  Santa  Anna  haughtily,  pointing  to  the  door, 
"  you  are  impertinent." 

"  Within  the  week,  the  banker's  son  was  married.  His 
bride  was  furnished  with  a  trousseau  procured  in  the  city 
where  she  resided.  The  manner  in  which  the  secret  had 
been  discovered  remained  an  apparently  impenetrable  mys- 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  283 

tery.  His  dear  friend  no  longer  visited  the  President,  and 
Santa  Anna  frowned  whenever  that  dear  friend's  name  was 
mentioned  in  his  presence.  At  length,  on  a  morning  some 
few  months  later,  an  individual  offered  to  sell  a  jeweller  an 
object  which  that  jeweller  recognized  as  having  been  bought 
from  himself.  It  had  been  purchased  by  the  banker,  and  was 
one  of  the  very  articles  of  which  he  had  been  robbed.  This 
individual  was  immediately  arrested,  and  after  many  exam- 
inations the  confession  was  wrung  from  him,  that  he  belonged 
to  a  band  of  robbers,  of  which  one  of  the  aides-de-camp  of 
Santa  Anna  was  the  chief. 

He  had  been  in  the  ante-chamber  when  the  banker  had 
made  his  disclosure  to  the  President,  and  through  the  par- 
tially open  door,  had  heard  the  whole  of  it.  In  consequence 
of  this  chance  information,  he  had  planned  the  robbery  and 
accomplished  it. 

Justice  was  once  done  in  Mexico.  Santa  Anna  had  him 
publicly  "  garroted." 

Let  me,  my  dear  sir,  again  return  to  the  chronicles  of  my 
professional  trip  through  Mexico.  We  paused  upon  our  route 
to  Puebla.  It  will  doubtless  gratify  you  to  hear  that  we  ar- 
rived there,  safe  and  unplundered. 

As  I  had  neither  Orchestra  nor  Chorus  with  me,  I  was 
obliged  to  search  for  both  before  we  could  think  of  perform- 
ing in  that  city.  A  dozen  tolerable  musicians  were  easily 
found  in  Puebla.  It  was,  as  I  have  earlier  indicated,  a  place 
where  churches  abounded.  These  were  necessarily  all  Cath- 
olic ones,  and  the  principal  attractions  of  Catholic  churches 
are  good  music  and  good  musicians.  My  Orchestra  was  con- 
sequently safe.  A  Chorus,  however,  was  somewhat  more 
difficult  to  find.  This  was  not  that  the  voices  were  lacking, 
or  the  capacity  to  use  them.  But  the  will  was  wanting. 
They  would  sing  Rossini's  music  in  a  church.  Rossini  upon 


284  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

the  stage  was  a  perfectly  different  thing.  This  settled  in  my 
mind  the  question  as  regarded  the  production  of  Opera,  and 
I  determined  to  try  a  Concert.  So  poor  was  the  attendance 
at  this  Concert,  that  I  at  once  ordered  all  the  luggage  con- 
taining the  Operatic  music,  dresses  and  other  properties,  to 
be  forwarded  to  Vera  Cruz. 

However,  as,  upon  inquiry  respecting  our  own  departure,  I 
found  that  we  could  not  leave  immediately,  the  music  of 
"  Don  Pasquale  "  was  alone  kept  back. 

My  reason  for  doing  this  was,  simply,  that  "  Don  Pasquale" 
can  be  played  in  citizen's  dress,  as  well  as  without  a  Chorus. 
I  accordingly  announced  our  last  appearance  in  Puebla,  in 
this  Opera,  without  any  very  great  expectation  of  an  audi- 
ence. But  I  had  reckoned  "without  mine  host"  in  this  in- 
stance. Whether  it  was  that  the  priestly  inhabitants  of  Pue- 
bla were  sound  critics,  and  valued  the  musical  talents  of  the 
artists  engaged  in  my  troupe  more  after  hearing  them  than 
they  had  done  in  hearing  about  them  through  the  journals  of 
Mexico,  which,  truth  to  say,  would  have  been  no  great  won- 
der; or,  whether  it  was  the  word  "Opera"  instead  of"  Con- 
cert" which  galvanized  their  monkish  intelligence  into  an  un- 
wonted activity,  it  would  be  absolutely  impossible  for  me  to 
say.  But,  on  the  evening  of  the  performance,  the  theatre 
was  crammed  to  its  fullest  extent  within  ten  minutes  after  the 
doors  were  opened.  Not  even  standing  room  could  be  ob- 
tained in  it.  In  short,  like  Petrillo  in  the  Spanish  "  Jack  the 
Giant-Killer,"  who  sliced  his  doublet  and  let  out  the  chopped 
sausages  (this  was  for  the  purpose  of  terrifying  his  gigantic 
enemy),  I  thought  it  necessary  to  keep  the  doors  of  the  boxes 
open,  to  prevent  their  bursting  with  repletion. 

About  this  large  audience,  there  was  also  one  singularity 
which  confirmed  me  in  that  opinion  anteriorly  laid  down  by 
me,  respecting  the  population  of  Puebla.  Two-thirds  of  it 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  285 

were  distinguished  by  the  clerical  tonsure,  and  wore  the  dun 
and  black  gowns  of  the  Roman  Catholic  priesthood. 

Nothing  could  have  exceeded  the  enthusiasm  displayed  by 
this  audience,  whether  in  its  lay  or  clerical  sections.  In  the  in- 
terval between  the  second  and  third  Acts,  the  public — priests, 
and  monks — dames  and  cavaliers,  alike  stood  up,  and  with 
shrill  screams  and  yells  demanded  that  we  should  give  them 
one  or  two  performances  more.  Nothing,  my  good  sir,  could 
have  exceeded  that  Babel.  To  any  individual  possessed  of 
the  greatest  requisite  of  poetry — a  fertile  imagination — it 
might  have  given  a  faint,  although  a  tolerably  perfect  idea 
of  Pandemonium.  Marini,  who  entered  the  stage  when  the 
curtain  drew  up,  attempted  to  proceed  with  his  part  in  vain. 
He  was  literally  screeched  into  silence,  and  obliged  to  aban- 
don the  effort  to  make  play  with  his  ponderous  voice  against 
the  tumult.  At  my  request,  he  then  came  forward,  announc- 
ing to  the  excitable  and  excited  public,  that — 

"  Our  music  and  dresses  had  already  been  forwarded  to 
Vera  Cruz,  and  that,  consequently,  we  had  nothing  which  we 
could  perform." 

"  Except '  Don  Pasquale,' "  vociferated  one  fat  little  monk, 
with  a  prodigiously  full  bass  roar. 

« Then  give  us  <  Don  Pasquale !'" 

As  this  was  shouted  out  by  the  whole  house,  men,  women, 
and  priests,  it  was  obvious  that  we  should  be  forced  to  obey. 
The  formal  promise  that  this  Opera  should  be  repeated  upon 
the  morrow,  was  therefore  given,  after  a  modest  moment's 
appearance  of  doubt  and  hesitation,  simply  imposed  upon  us 
by  the  paramount  necessity  (in  all  cases  this  is  paramount) 
of  appearing  totally  independent  of  the  will  of  the  public. 

On  the  following  day,  an  even  greater  crowd  and  a  larger 
number  of  priestly  dresses  (if  either  of  these  things  were  pos- 
sible) made  their  appearance  in  the  theatre.  Scarcely  had 


286  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

the  second  Act  terminated,  than  a  precisely  similar  scene  to 
that  which  had  taken  place  upon  the  preceding  evening  was 
repeated.  The  public,  with  yells  and  screams,  rose,  and  de- 
manded another  performance.  I  was  just  going  to  request 
Marini  to  announce  the  third  repetition  of  "  Don  Pasquale," 
when  the  very  same  fat  little  wretch  who  had  specified  this 
Opera  on  the  preceding  evening,  stood  up  on  his  seat,  and 
with  his  shorn  and  shaven  head  glistening  in  the  oil-light  of 
the  theatre,  roared  out — 

"Give  us  < Normal'" 

No  sooner  had  the  public  heard  his  abominable  basso,  than 
they  also  shouted  out — 

"  Yes,  yes  !     Give  us  « Norma  ! ' " 

«< Normal'  'Normal'" 

"We  want  < Normal'" 

Here  was  a  position  to  be  placed  in.  Without  either  mu- 
sic or  dresses  for  the  "  Norma,"  we  were  required  to  give  it. 
With  a  heroism  unusual  in  an  Italian,  when  he  is  obliged  to 
decline  taking  the  contents  of  the  public  purse,  Marini,  at  my 
request,  again  stepped  forward.  The  voice  of  the  audience 
calmed  into  silence,  and  he  began  a  delicate  explanation  of 
our  unfortunate  situation. 

"  Ladies  and  gentlemen,"  he  said,  neglecting  to  add  monks 
to  his  specification  of  the  sexes  of  his  audience,"  I  am  truly 
sorry  to  tell  you,  that  the  music  of  '  Norrna '  is  by  this  time 
nearly  at  Vera  Cruz ! " 

"  Never  mind ! "  roared  the  squab  little  priest,  who  was  still 
standing  on  his  seat,  "  we  have  it." 

"JE  viva,  el  Padre  Juanito ! "  shouted  the  whole  house,  like 
one  man." 

"  We  sing  it  in  our  church  at  High  Mass !  You  shall  use 
our  score." 


OPERA    MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  287 

Marini,  being  beaten  upon  this  point,  like  a  clever  general, 
attempted  another. 

"  But,  ladies  and  gentlemen,  we  have  no  Chorus !"  he  re- 
monstrated. 

«Al  C los  Coros!"  was  the  polite  answer  made  by 

the  musical  audience,  in  which,  conscience,  my  dear  sir,  forces 
me  to  say  that  my  ears  very  accurately  detected  the  roar  of 
the  round  little  priestly  basso.  Be  it  remembered,  also,  to 
the  eternal  shame  of  Puebla,  that  more  than  one  half  of  the 
audience  in  the  first  tier  were  ladies.  Deeply  do  I  regret 
that  their  presence  did  not  tame  the  tongues  of  the  male  half 
of  creation.  But  truth  is  truth.  The  pen  is  in  my  hand,  and 
I  am  obliged  to  record  this  ungentlemanly  effervescence  of 
feeling.  At  the  same  time,  my  dear  sir,  my  conscience  is 
unable  to  repudiate  the  fact,  that  a  similar  destination  has  not, 
unoften,  appeared  to  me  a  fitting  one  for  many  of  the  Choruses 
upon  this  side  of  the  broad  Atlantic. 

"  I  am  sorry  to  say,"  continued  Marini,  in  a  remarkably 
timid  voice,  toned  down,  by  his  increasing  nervousness,  into  a 
truly  remarkable  affinity  with  a  cracked  soprano,  "  that  we 
have  no  dresses." 

"  Can't  you  play  it  in  your  own  ? "  bellowed  out  his  tor- 
mentor, in  a  tone  that  might  have  claimed  relationship  with 
the  accents  of  a  Chinese  gong. 

"  Yes !  yes !     *  Norma'  in  citizens'  dress ! " 

"We  want4  Normal'" 

"You  must  give  us  'Norma'  in  some  shape  or  other!" 

"  We  will  have  it ! "  screamed  out  the  public. 

Seeing  there  was  no  way  of  appeasing  them  but  one,  and 
that  this  was  the  promising  a  compliance  with  their  wishes, 
Marini  was  obliged  to  announce  that  "Norma"  should  be 
performed  upon  the  following  evening.  After  this  under- 


288  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

stood  pledge  to  obey  their  will,  the  performance  of  "  Don 
Pasquale"  was  graciously  permitted  to  proceed. 

But  no  sooner  had  it  terminated,  than  remonstrances  of 
every  kind  were  addressed  to  me,  upon  the  subject  of  that 
promise  which  Marini  had  given. 

"  Only  reflect  upon  Pollio  in  a  blue  frock-coat  and  drab 
pantaloons,"  said  Salvi. 

Steffenone,  in  a  gracious  tone  of  remonstrance,  asked  me, 
u  What  I  thought  of  Norma,  dressed  in  black  silk,  cut  after 
the  fashion  of  the  day  ?  " 

Adalgisa  was  furious.  She  had,  unfortunately,  sent  on  her 
private  baggage  with  the  boxes  containing  the  stage-ward- 
robe, to  Vera  Cruz. 

Nobody  was  pleasant  but  Marini,  who  was  lost  in  medita- 
tion. He,  in  all  probability,  was  considering  the  possibility 
of  converting  a  couple  of  sheets  taken  from  his  Mexican  bed 
into  something  resembling  the  white  robes  of  a  Gaulish 
Druid.  Mind  me,  my  dear  sir,  I  do  not  by  any  means  posi- 
tively affirm  that  this  was  the  case.  But,  when  you  consider 
the  resources  of  genius  taken  at  a  nonplus,  you,  I  feel,  will 
join  me  in  the  conclusion  that  this  wras  veiy  likely. 

Against  this  general  dissatisfaction,  which,  to  do  justice  to 
them,  was  not  altogether  unreasonable,  as  places  had  been 
secured  by  the  diligences  upon  the  following  day,  I  found 
myself  unable  to  do  battle.  Ingloriously,  therefore,  was  I 
compelled  to  make  up  my  mind  to  run  away  and  leave  the 
priestly  public  of  Puebla  in  undisturbed  possession  of  the 
battle-ground.  Therefore,  everybody  was  notified  to  be  in 
readiness  to  start  at  3  o'clock,  A.  M.  Perhaps — but,  mind 
me,  that  I  by  no  means  assert  this — my  own  brain  enter- 
tained some  doubts  as  to  the  propriety  of  tampering  too  much 
with  the  enthusiasm  of  such  a  remarkably  excitable  public. 
Bellini  is  doubtless  an  admirably  popular  writer,  and  "  Nor- 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  289 

ma"  is  probably  one  of  his  finest  Operas ;  but  without  a 
Chorus,  it  would,  very  likely,  scarcely  answer  to  the  ideas  of 
the  dead  maestro.  Without  dresses  or  scenery,  it  would  as 
certainly  not  coincide  with  the  expectations  of  a  New  York, 
London,  or  Parisian  audience.  While  played  from  the  music 
which  we  might  reasonably  suppose  had  been  scored  by  our 
rotund  little  friend,  the  small  monk  with  the  prodigious  bass 
voice,  and  played  too  by  a  local  Orchestra  with  only  one 
rehearsal,  it  might  not  unnaturally  be  imagined  that  it  would 
scarcely  suit  the  taste  of  the  Pueblan  public. 

Under  the  influence  of  all  these  ideas,  which  floated  through 
my  brain  at  the  tail  of  the  reproaches  which  had  been  ad- 
dressed to  me  by  my  company,  did  I  seat  myself  on  the  fol- 
lowing morning  in  the  diligence,  in  the  midst  of  Italian  tenors 
and  double-barrelled  guns,  delicate  soprani  and  Colt's  revolv- 
ers, Herr  Kreutzer  and  his  field-piece,  Bowie-knives,  bassi, 
and  barytones. 

Let  me  inform  you,  that  we  arrived  in  the  afternoon  of  the 
second  day  following,  at  Vera  Cruz,  unplundered. 

Now,  the  bad  success  of  our  concert  at  Puebla  had  im- 
posed upon  me  the  belief,  that,  save  in  extraordinary  circum- 
stances— such,  for  example,  as  those  which  had  attended  our 
first  performance  in  Vera  Cruz — concerts,  were  by  no  means 
adapted  to  the  musical  taste  of  the  Mexicans.  For  this,  there 
are  many  reasons,  but  the  principal  one  is,  that  they  are 
Roman  Catholic.  Their  cathedrals  and  their  churches  supply 
them  with  vocal  music,  which  is,  in  very  many  instances,  far 
from  contemptible,  and  render  them  able  to  dispense  with 
better  professional  vocalism  when  unassisted  by  dresses  and 
scenery.  Opera  localizes  music  in  the  theatre,  and  appeals 
to  their  eyes  as  well  as  their  ears.  While  to  the  latter, 
alone,  it  presents  an  almost  distinct  combination  of  the  re- 
sources of  melody.  Necessarily,  on  arriving  at  these  conclu- 

13 


290  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

sions  respecting  the  taste  for  music  in  the  Mexican  Re- 
public, I  determined  upon,  if  possible,  giving  Opera  in  Vera 
Cruz. 

However,  there  were  two  great  difficulties  which  presented 
themselves  to  me  in  the  accomplishment  of  this.  These 
were,  the  providing  myself  both  with  a  Chorus  and  an 
Orchestra. 

It  was  not,  that  I  might  not  probably  have  found  some  who 
were  willing  to  enact  the  part  of  members  of  the  first  of 
these  two  bodies.  But  I  had  not  the  necessary  time  to  teach 
them,  granting,  even,  that  they  were  willing  to  be  taught  their 
duties. 

What  was  I  to  do  ?  After  a  little  thought,  my  dear  sir,  I 
hit  upon  the  following  scheme. 

This  was,  that  the  whole  of  my  company,  whether  rejoicing 
in  the  title  of  primo  or  secondo  tenore,  whether  basso  or  bary- 
tone, whether  prima  or  secunda  donna  or  contralto,  in  fact, 
that  every  vocalist  who  was  not  required  in  the  Opera  as  it 
was  cast,  should  sing  in  the  Chorus.  Furthermore,  I  ima- 
gined that  the  chambermaids  or  servants  to  the  different 
artists,  being  connected  with  vocalists  and  constantly  hearing 
them  at  rehearsal,  (whether  in  the  theatre  or  in  their  private 
apartments,)  most  certainly  could  or  would,  and  therefore 
should  sing  for  their  masters'  and  mistresses'  as  well  as  my 
own  benefit.  By  this  means,  a  tolerably  numerous  Chorus 
would  be  constituted.  The  only  difficulty,  as  it  appeared  to 
me,  would  lie  in  the  inducing  such  artists  as  Steffenone,  Salvi, 
Marini  and  others  to  consent  to  it.  Here,  contrary  to  my 
expectations,  I  met  with  not  the  slightest.  It  may  have 
been  that  they  saw  the  impossibility  of  our  gaining  anything 
at  Vera  Cruz,  unless  they  consented  to  it.  But  I  prefer 
thinking,  that  it  was  for  the  sake  of  the  novelty  of  the  expe- 
riment (it  was,  if  I  am  right,  then  tried  for  the  first  time),  as 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  291 

•well  as  to  gratify  me  after  having  led  them  through  such  a 
successful  season  in  Mexico,  that  they  agreed  to  do  so.  With 
the  other  and  purely  secondary  members  of  such  a  Chorus, 
I  had,  as  I  had  divined,  but  little  trouble.  Their  previously 
involuntary  acquirement  of  musical  knowledge  now  stood 
both  them  and  myself  in  good  stead,  and  rendered  their 
teaching  a  work  of  comparatively  little  labor. 

Suffice  it,  that  though  far  from  numerous,  this  Chorus  was 
very  decidedly  the  best  which  I  have  ever  had  under  my  man- 
agement. Indeed,  such  a  Chorus  has  very  rarely  been 
listened  to  in  any  part  of  this  world,  if  it  ever  has. 

Sometimes,  let  me  own  that  it  was  strange  to  me  to  see, 
when  Forti  and  Rosi,  or  Beneventano  and  Costini  sung  the 
principal  parts,  such  singers  as  Steffenone,  Bertucca,  Salvi, 
Marini  and  others,  standing  amongst  the  Chorus.  The  man- 
ner of  Salvi's  singing  would  perhaps  be  the  most  bitter 
criticism  which  could  be  addressed  in  a  quiet  manner  to  the 
other  tenors,  while  Steffenone's  would  offer  a  lively  lesson  to 
the  soprani.  Even  the  ladies'  maids,  men-servants,  and 
theatrical  tailors  knew  the  old  Operas  by  heart,  and  were  in- 
spirited by  the  contact  of  their  voices  with  those  of  these 
artists.  The  last-named  had  also  plenty  of  fun  out  of  it,  and 
occasionally  gratified  their  intense  appreciation  of  applause  in 
a  somewhat  singular  manner.  "When  the  public  had  some- 
times been  sufficiently  bored  by  the  vocalism  of  Beneventano 
or  Forti,  they  would  call  the  Choristers  by  name  before  them. 
The  gentlemen  would  be  cheered.  Bouquets  would  be  thrown 
to  the  ladies,  and  possibly  between  the  Acts  a  few  dozen  of 
sparkling  Champagne  would  be  sent  round  to  all  of  them,  to 
cheer  them  in  their  novel  labors. 

With  the  formation  of  the  Orchestra  I  had,  however,  far 
more  difficulty.  Musicians  were  very  evidently,  a  consider- 
able rarity  in  Vera  Cruz. 


292  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

As  for  white  musicians,  such  objects  were  not  discoverable 
in  the  market.  All  that  I  could  find  were  twelve  jetty-black 
ones,  who  formed  the  band  attached  to  the  city. 

The  population  being  much  scantier  than  that  of  Puebla, 
this  paucity  may  naturally  be  accounted  for. 

After  a  long  search  for  something  of  a  mulatto  tone — a 
human  whity  brown  in  the  shape  of  a  violinist,  I  was  at 
length  obliged  to  make  an  arrangement  with  these  twelve 
sable-colored  musicians.  After  having  done  this,  the  day  for 
our  first  Rehearsal  was  appointed.  Punctual  to  the  moment, 
they  arrived  at  the  theatre.  Evidently  vain  of  their  new 
position,  each  darkie  was  got  up  to  the  best  of  his  ability. 
Trifling  incongruities  of  attire  might  be  visible.  Some 
tendency  to  glaring  colors  they  might  display  in  their,  vests 
and  neckcloths,  while  their  linen  might  have  been  whiter  and 
finer,  yet  I  must  own  (am  I  not,  my  dear  sir,  upon  the  con- 
fessional stool  ?)  that  their  appearance  agreeably  surprised  me. 

"  Come.  All  is  not  gold  that  glitters,"  I  said  to  myself. 
"  Neither  is  the  devil  so  black  as"  (should  I  not  have  said 
the  negro  ?  however,  let  Satan  pass  for  once)  "  he  is  invaria- 
bly painted." 

We  went  into  the  Orchestra.  The  music-books  were 
opened.  I  looked  round  me,  tapped  my  desk  with  my  baton 
and  the  Overture  began. 

Ye  Heavens !  what  was  I  listening  to  ?  Jumping  up  from 
my  desk,  I  threw  my  arms  up  in  despair.  Immediately  they 
all  stopped  playing.  Rubbing  my  eyes,  I  almost  fancied  that 
I  had  been  sleeping.  But,  no  !  I  could  not  doubt  but  that 
I  was  then,  at  least,  wide  awake. 

"  Let  us  try  it  once  more,"  I  muttered  to  myself,  as  I 
again  tapped  the  desk  and  once  more  commenced  the  task  of 
conducting  my  jetty  musicians. 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  293 

Holy  Cecilia !  It  was  far  worse  even  than  it  had  before 
been. 

Could  I  have  imagined  a  dozen  tom-cats  giving  vent  to 
their  amorous  feelings  on  the  roof  of  my  dwelling,  at  one 
o'clock  in  the  morning,  it  would  scarcely  have  been  worse. 
The  antique  Orchestra  devoted  to  scolding  wives,  and  com- 
posed of  those  singularly  harmonious  instruments,  marrow- 
bones and  cleavers,  could  by  no  means  have  rivalled  their 
execution.  King  Philip  of  Pergamus  could  not  have  kept 
his  prisoners  from  the  balmy  blessings  of  sleep,  with  a  more 
frightfully  horrid  and  unmusical  din.  Wagner's  want  of 
melodic  feeling  could  by  no  possibility  have  imagined  such 
an  absence  of  all  music.  A  dozen  saw-mills,  all  arranged  in 
contrary  keys,  could  not  have  emulated  it.  Had  a  hyena,  a 
bear,  two  jackasses,  four  monkeys  and  a  rattle-snake  been 
shut  up  together,  and  compelled  to  dance  on  a  red-hot  iron 
plate,  their  yelling,  growling,  braying,  chattering,  hissing  and 
rattling,  could  certainly  not  have  surpassed  it.  Leaping  up 
from  my  seat,  I  rushed  into  my  dressing-room,  threw  myself 
into  a  chair,  and  should  undoubtedly  have  fainted,  had  not 
Salvi,  who  had  also  been  present,  followed  me. 

"  What  is  the  matter  ?"  he  asked. 

"  Champagne !"  was  all  that  I  could  utter,  as  I  held  out  my 
hand. 

Luckily,  he  understood  me  and  ran  to  his  room,  whence  he 
returned  in  some  two  minutes  with  a  pint-flask  of  that,  to 
musical  conductors  and  vocalists,  most  precious  stimulant. 

There  was  no  glass,  but  with  praiseworthy  benevolence,  he 
cut  the  wires  and  tendered  me  the  bottle.  Scarcely  knowing 
what  I  did,  I  lifted  it  to  my  mouth.  But  in  doing  this  the 
cork  exploded.  With,  I  am  ashamed  to  say,  an  oath,  I 
dropped  the  bottle  upon  the  ground  and  laid  my  hand  upon 


294  KEVELATIONS    OF   AN 

my  nose.  At  the  moment,  I  thought  that  the  end  of  it  was 
lost,  forever. 

"  The  wine  is  gone !"  said  Salvi  in  despair. 

"And  the  top  of  my  nose !"  I  moaned  out  in  agony. 

As  bodily  pain  is  good  in  many  cases  of  mental  suffering 
to  relieve  the  mind  of  man,  so,  it  may  be  concluded  that  in 
the  present  instance,  this  contusion  of  my  nose  saved  me  from 
incipient  madness.  Agony — the  agony  of  a  mind  keenly  alive 
to  music — gave  way  to  wrath.  Roaring  out  to  Havercorn, 
^my  musical  librarian  on  this  tour)  I  bade  him  summon  that 
"  black  scoundrel !" 

He  looked  at  me  as  if  astonished. 

"  The  leader !"  I  reiterated.     "  He  ought  to  be  hung  !" 

For  the  moment,  Havercorn  imagined  that  I  was  insane. 

"  Or  grilled  over  a  slow  fire." 

With  a  look  of  dread  he  vanished  from  the  apartment. 
Evidently,  he  thought  it  by  far  the  wisest  thing  he  could  do 
to  give  me  as  wide  a  berth  as  possible,  at  this  moment. 

The  leader  came. 

"  Listen  to  me,  you  black  rascal !"  I  said  in  the  best  Span- 
ish I  could  muster.  "  If  you,  or  any  of  your  companions,  ever 
dare  to  play  another  note  in  my  Orchestra,  I  dismiss  you." 

"  But — Senor ! — "  he  began. 

"  Listen  to  me  and  be  silent,"  I  interjected,  cutting  him 
short,  "  If  you  wish  to  be  paid,  it  is  best  for  you  to  obey  my 
orders.  Otherwise  you  can  leave  me,  and  this  at  once." 

Seeing  that  I  was  most  thoroughly  in  earnest,  he  thought 
it  advisable  to  remain  perfectly  silent  the  while  I  continued 
addressing  him. 

"  Remember,  black  individual,"  I  said,  "  that  I  only  con- 
sent to  retain  you  in  my  Orchestra,  upon  the  simple  condition 
of  your  not  having  the  impudence  to  play,  save  when  I  bid 
you.  You  must,  however,  pretend  to  do  so.  You  must  put 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  295 

your  horns  and  flutes  to  your  mouths  and  appear  to  blow — 
you  must  scrape  away  at  .your  violins  and  seem  to  fiddle — 
but,  woe  to  the  whole  of  you,  if  my  ear  catches  a  single  note 
escaping  from  any  of  your  instruments.  Do  you  understand 
me?" 

"Yes,  Senor!" 

K  Now  go  and  practice  the  last  eight  bars — only  the  last 
eight  of  the  first  Act  of  the  Opera  (in  Italian  Operas,  these 
are  invariably  alike  in  all  the  Acts)  under  Herr  Kreutzer. 
These  I  allow  you  to  play,  as  a  great  favor,  provided  you 
practice  them  continually,  the  whole  of  to-day  and  to-morrow." 

He  looked  at  me,  as  a  thoroughly  humbled  negro  only  can 
look. 

Suffice  it,  that  I  was  contented  with  the  impression  I  had 
made  upon  him.  After  furthermore  imprinting  upon  his 
mind  the  necessity  of  preserving  a  scrupulous  silence  with 
regard  to  my  instructions,  if  his  band  at  all  wished  to  retain 
their  posts  and  salaries  in  my  Orchestra  (!)  I  allowed  him 
to  leave  me. 

My  next  necessity  was  to  procure  a  decently  good  piano- 
forte. This  was  done,  although  with  some  little  difficulty. 

With  this  instrument,  Herr  Kreutzer's  violin  (an  excel- 
lent one  for  orchestral  purposes)  and  Signor  Beletti's  clario- 
net, I  actually  played  and  rendered  the  whole  of  every  Opera 
which  was  given  under  my  management,  in  the  city  of  Vera 
Cruz,  only  permitting  the  negro  Orchestra  to  play  the  last 
eight  bars  in  each  Act.  This,  I  am  happy  to  say,  they  at 
last  learned  to  do  tolerably  well.  But  I  am  also  happy  to 
say,  that  they  never  played  anything  nearly  as  well  as  they 
acted  playing.  Nothing  could  well  have  been  more  glorious 
than  to  see  the  French  horn's  cheeks  distended  with  his  ima- 
ginary efforts,  or  to  note  the  way  in  which  the  bows  simu- 
lated the  scraping  of  the  strings  of  the  violins.  Nothing 


296  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

could  have  more  admirably  shammed  the  reality.  By  this 
means,  we  at  all  events  kept  up  the  semblance  of  an  Orches- 
tra, and  ended  all  our  Acts  with  the  regular  noise  and  uproar 
of  an  Orchestra  of  fifteen  members,  although  I  feel  conscien- 
tiously bound  to  affirm  that  my  piano,  Kreutzer's  violin,  and 
Beletti's  clarionet,  were  even  then  by  far  its  most  prominent 
members. 

You  will  observe,  my  dear  sir,  that  pain  and  pleasure  in 
the  musical  world,  as  well  as  elsewhere,  are  pretty  fairly  and 
evenly  balanced. 

My  pleasure  in  Vera  Cruz,  let  me  candidly  own  it,  was 
my  Chorus,  while  my  Orchestra  was  my  pain. 

When  Forti  perchance  saw  Salvi,  who  was  singing  in  the 
Chorus,  called  for  and  more  applauded  than  he  himself  was, 
he  would  meet  my  glance  of  triumph  boldly,  and  cast  a  look 
at  my  Orchestra.  He  saw  me  working  with  my  two  assist- 
ants for  the  whole  of  it,  and  at  once  recovered  his  equa- 
nimity. Did  I  feel  inclined  to  curse  my  stars  for  having 
condemned  me  to  the  piano,  as  I  thumped  away  on  it  night 
after  night,  I  would  gaze  on  Beneventano's  sufferings  at  feel- 
ing that  the  artists  in  the  Chorus  gathered  more  applause 
than  he  did,  and  feel,  for  the  moment,  completely  reconciled 
to  my  labors.  As  for  the  public,  they  taught  me  one  great 
lesson.  This  is,  that  the  adaptation  of  your  means  to  your 
end  is  the  great  and,  indeed,  the  only  secret  of  success.  That 
which  might  succeed  in  Vera  Cruz,  would  not  be  fitted  for 
Mexico.  Did  you  produce  anything  which  paid  in  New 
York,  that  very  thing  would  succeed,  with  half  the  means,  in 
Natchez  or  in  Pittsburg.  A  section  of  the  talent  requisite 
for  success  in  London  or  Paris,  will  ensure  it  in  Bordeaux  or 
Liverpool.  This,  if  I  had  known  before,  I  had  never  had  it 
so  clearly  and  so  indisputably  thrust  upon  me,  as  it  was  in 
the  performances  which  I  made  money  by,  in  Vera  Cruz. 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  297 

But,  during  our  stay  in  this  city,  I  received  important  in- 
telligence (at  least  so  it  was  to  a  musical  man)  from  New 
York.  Two  new  Operatic  companies  were  performing  in 
that  city. 

The  one  of  these  was  under  the  management  of  Madame 
Sontag.  The  other  was  under  the  direction  of  Marshall 
of  the  Broadway  Theatre.  In  this  company,  Madame  Alboni 
was  the  prima  donna.  But  Sontag,  as  well  as  Alboni  her- 
self, had  committed  the  fatal  mistake  which  had  marked  the 
advent  of  Catherine  Hayes  under  the  regime  of  Mr.  Ward- 
well.  Saving  and  excepting  the  two  prima  donnas  them- 
selves, neither  of  the  companies  contained  the  slightest  point 
of  any  attraction. 

Thinking  over  this,  I  foresaw  that  good  vocalists,  and  by  a 
necessary  ratio,  far  more  great  artists  would  be  in  demand  in 
New  York.  -t  j 

This  would  be  more  necessarily  the  case  with  Salvi  and 
Marini. 

On  the  other  hand,  it  would  be  far  from  advisable  for  me 
to  embark  in  an  opposition  to  these  two  companies.  They 
had,  in  fact,  completely  occupied  the  ground  which  I  had 
vacated.  But  if  I  myself,  with  Salvi  and  Marini,  were  to 
join  either  of  these  parties,  it  was  evident  to  me  that  the 
other  must  be  crushed  by  the  additional  weight  thrown  into 
the  opposite  scale.  These  reflections  determined  me,  there- 
fore, to  start  for  New  York  a  few  days  in  advance  of  my 
troupe,  for  the  purpose  of  coming  to  an  understanding  with 
the  management  of  either  the  Sontag  or  Alboni  party,  pre- 
vious to  the  arrival  of  my  artists.  Accordingly,  a  condi- 
tional arrangement  was  entered  into  between  Salvi  and 
Marini  and  myself,  for  the  proximate  six  months ;  and  it  was 
agreed  that  I  should  leave  for  the  commercial  and  intellec- 
tual capital  of  the  United  States,  immediately. 
13* 


298  KEVELATIONS    OF   AN 

In  accordance  with  this  arrangement,  I  took  twenty-seven 
passages  in  the  steamer  Albatross,  for  New  York,  and  pro- 
vided each  person  with  his  ticket.  Then,  after  liquidating 
their  hotel-bills  up  to  the  time  of  my  departure,  I  requested 
them  to  divide  the  receipts  on  their  last  performances  among 
themselves,  in  the  proportion  of  their  respective  salaries. 

Having  settled  these  matters,  I  prepared  myself  to  take 
my  departure  in  the  English  steamer  for  Havana.  Thence, 
I  could  easily  reach  the  city  in  which  I  am,  at  the  present 
moment,  residing. 

But  no  sooner  had  this  been  settled,  than  with  the  natural 
mistrust  all  Italians  evince  for  those  with  whom  they  have 
any  business,  a  visible  feeling  of  mefiance  towards  each  other 
rooted  itself  in  almost  the  wh'ole  of  that  company  which  had 
agreed  so  well  together,  under  my  management.  Had  you 
then  seen  them,  my  good  sir,  you  would  have  imagined  that 
each  felt  himself  amongst  a  party  of  robbers.  Even  Signer 
Beletti  and  Heir  Kreutzer  buttoned  up  their  pockets,  and 
walked  about  with  the  settled  conviction  that  they  were  about 
to  be  plundered.  Indeed,  on  the  day  previous  to  my  leaving, 
almost  every  member  of  the  troupe  came  to  ask  for  a  few  mo- 
ments of  private  conversation  with  me.  Naturally,  I  was 
forced  to  accord  it  to  them.  What  was  my  surprise,  to  find 
that  each  of  them  had  visited  me  on  that  morning,  to  reveal 
to  my  ears  their  opinions  of  their  brother  artists,  and  to  dis- 
close to  me  the  deplorable  state  in  which  the  affairs  of  the 
Company  would  be  left  upon  my  departure.  Every  one  of 
them  told  me  that  unavoidable  anarchy  would  reign  amongst 
them.  Each  of  them  told  me  that  everybody  would  wish, 
and,  what  was  more,  would  attempt  to  make  himself  the  mas- 
ter. They  all  agreed  that  not  one  of  the  whole  party  would 
be  inclined  to  obey  any  of  the  others.  Then,  each  one  pointed 
out  to  me,  those  bad  qualities  in  every  one  of  the  others,  which 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  299 

would  positively  unfit  him  for  having  the  management  con- 
fided to  him.  This  one  was  much  too  quarrelsome.  That 
one  was  a  fool.  One  was  too  timid,  and  another  was  too 
easy.  Here  was  one  who  would  swindle,  and  there  was  an- 
other who  would  be  swindled  by  everybody.  Having  settled 
this  to  their  own  satisfaction,  all  of  them  requested  me  to 
name  my  representative,  and  to  give  this  said  representative 
a  power  of  attorney  to  take  the  receipts  and  make  a  fair  divi- 
sion of  them. 

Need  I  tell  you,  that  each  one  of  them  represented  himself 
as  the  best  man  to  carry  on  the  business,  and  to  care  for  the 
money. 

These  asseverations  and  insinuations  convinced  me  that 
anarchy  was  indeed  likely  to  reign  amongst  them.  But,  on 
the  other  side,  I  knew  if  I  gave  a  power  of  attorney  to  any 
one  of  them,  that  a  musical  revolution  would  break  out  in  the 
company  in  less  than  twenty-four  hours,  and  the  said  attorney 
would  most  inevitably  be  deposed.  The  choice  for  me,  as 
their  Manager,  lay  between  two  evils;  when,  it  suddenly 
struck  me  that  as  every  one  of  them  was  interested  in  their 
joint  success,  it  might  be  possible,  by  a  little  trick,  to  force 
them,  not  only  by  their  pecuniary  interests,  but  by  a  certain 
feeling  of  shame,  to  agree  as  well  as  Italian  vocalists  could 
agree,  together. 

Therefore,  I  gave  to  every  person  who  asked  it,  a  power 
of  attorney  to  represent  me,  and  to  carry  on  the  Opera 
"together  with  the  other  members  of  the  company"  during  my 
absence,  until  the  period  of  their  own  departure  in  the 
Albatross. 

At  the  same  time,  I  strictly  enjoined  on  each  of  them  the 
necessity  of  keeping  the  fact  a  secret  until  my  departure, 
which  was  to  take  place  on  the  following  day,  as  I  believe  I 
have  earlier  observed. 


300  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

Had  I  been  present  when  they  all  met  at  Rehearsal,  some 
two  hours  subsequent  to  my  steaming  out  of  the  harbor  of 
Vera  Cruz,  candidly  is  it  my  belief,  that  the  Epitaph  on  Max 
Maretzek  would  contain  the  assertion  that  he  "  quitted  this 
life,  in  consequence  of  a  paroxysm  of  laughter."  It  must 
have  been  delicious  to  see  the  first  of  them  take  his  authori- 
zation, to  act  as  my  representative,  out  of  his  pocket.  Could 
you  then  have  noticed  his  oblique  stare  of  utter  horror,  when 
a  second  thrust  his  own,  under  his  nose  ?  Salvi  would  have 
been  worth  painting,  as  an  epitome  of  vocal  dignity,  when  he 
quietly  moved  up  the  stage  with  his  power  of  attorney  buried 
in  the  depths  of  his  own  pocket,  from  which  by  the  merest 
chance  he  had  not  been  the  first  to  draw  it;  while  Herr 
Kreutzer's  intense  disgust  at  finding  himself  only  sharing 
that  power,  the  whole  of  which  he  had  craved,  would  have 
been  an  example  of  outraged  feeling  of  the  most  admirable 
kind. 

At  any  rate,  the  lesson  had  a  decidedly  good  result.  Some 
complaints  were  made  me,  when  I  saw  them.  But  these  were 
not  urged  against  me ;  they  were  directed  against  each  other. 

Shame  was  too  powerful  with  them  to  permit  them  to  re- 
monstrate. They  knew  that  I  had  exhibited  no  unjustifiable 
mistrust  of  them.  Feeling  that  I  had  been  right,  they  did 
not  dare  make  my  action  with  regard  to  them  a  cause  for 
quarrel  with  me,  when  they  after\mrds  arrived  in  this  city. 
Consequently,  their  momentary  annoyance  did  not  prove  a  fu- 
ture bone  of  contention  between  us. 

But  I  greatly  fear  that  this  letter  may  have  already  proved 
too  lengthy  for  you.  Let  me,  therefore,  further  only  mention 
that  I  arrived  here  in  capital  health,  and  one  week  sooner 
than  the  rest  of  my  company.  It  was  with  a  comparatively 
unspeakable  joy  that  I  shook  hands  and  took  the  customary 
"drink"  with  the  first  friend  whom  I  met  on  Broadway,  on  the 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  301 

first  day  of  my  return.  However,  as  to  the  number  of  hands 
offered  me,  and  the  number  of  "drinks"  taken  by  me,  the 
deponent  sayeth  nothing. 

Believe  me,  my  dear  sir,  yours, 

&c.,  &c.,  &c.,  &c., 

MAX  MARETZEK. 


LETTER     SEVENTH. 

TO    .CARL     ECKERT, 
(Conductor  at  the  Imperial  Opera,  Vienna.) 

Madame   Henrietta  Sontag,  Comtesse  de  Rossi — Her  Career  in  the 
United  States — Her  Death  in  Mexico. 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.  305 


LETTER  VII. 

TO     CARL     ECKERT, 

(Conductor  of  the  Imperial  Opera,  Vienna.) 

NEW  YORK,  September  27th,  1855. 
GOOD  AND  DEAR  FRIEND  : — 

You  will  be,  in  all  probability,  astonished  that  I  should 
address  the  letter  on  which  my  pen  is  about  to  be  employed, 
to  you.  You  wonder  that  I  should  prefix  your  name  to  the 
pages  in  the  present  work,  which  refer  to  the  career  of 
Henrietta  Sontag  in  this  country.  Nor  is  it  very  singular 
that  you  should  do  so.  In  your  younger  years  having  been 
her  protege,  and  in  subsequent  ones,  her  faithful  friend  and 
adviser — nay !  having  accompanied  her  through  the  earlier 
portion  of  her  tour  in  this  half  of  the  globe,  you  will  natu- 
rally ask  me  what  I  can  have  to  say  about  her,  with  which 
you  are  not  acquainted. 

You  will  tell  me,  that  you  know  more  of  Madame  Sontag's 
private  as  well  as  public  career,  than  any  other  of  her 
musical  friends  can  possibly  do.  This,  dear  Eckert,  I  can- 
didly and  willingly  confess  to  you  and  my  readers. 

For  this  very  reason  is  it,  that  to  you,  my  present  letter  is 
addressed. 

You  know  all  the  great  qualities  of  an  artist,  who,  in  her 
own  line,  was  well  nigh  unapproachable.  You  know  all  the 


306  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

excellencies  of  that  noble-minded  and  heroic  woman.  It  is 
because  you  know  that  her  return  to  the  lyric  stage  was  dic- 
tated neither  by  ambition  nor  by  cupidity,  but  by  the  simple 
feelings  of  a  wife  faithful  to  the  fortunes  of  her  husband,  and 
a  true-hearted  and  loving  parent,  that  I  have  determined 
upon  addressing  you  in  the  present  pages  of  my  work.  In 
addition  to  this,  the  fact  that  you  had  quitted  Madame  Sontag 
in  New  York,  for  the  purpose  of  returning  to  Europe  and 
taking  that  situation  or  post  which  you  now  fill  so  worthily, 
and  had  neither  accompanied  her  to  New  Orleans  or  Mexico,^ 
induces  me  to  believe  that  you  are  not  positively  in- 
formed, respecting  that  which  took  place  during  the  last 
months  of  her  life.  This,  the  more  especially,  from  the 
many  partially  absurd  and  conflicting  rumors  which  have 
been  placed  in  circulation  respecting  her,  whose  Countess- 
ship  of  Rossi  may  be  considered  as  SAvallowed  up  by  the 
reputation  acquired  by  Madame  Sontag,  from  Mexico  even 
to  St.  Petersburg. 

The  object,  therefore,  which  now  places  the  pen  in  my 
hand,  is  not  so  much  to  detail  to  you  the  events  of  her  career 
in  this  country  as  they  are  publicly  and  generally  known. 

It  is  rather  to  trace  back  these  rumors  to  their  original 
source,  and  to  enlighten  you  on  some  of  the  actual  facts 
respecting  them,  which  have  come  to  my  knowledge.  Li 
doing  so,  it  may  be  feared  that  I  dare  not  say  all  which  I  might 
tell  you,  fearless  as  my  nature  naturally  is.  Suffice  it,  if,  from 
what  I  say,  you  can  sufficiently  gather  the  truth.  When  I 
again  meet  you,  believe  me,  that  a  candid  answer  shall  be  - 
given  to  every  question  which  you  may  feel  called  upon  to 
address  me. 

The  subject  is  a  grave  one.  If,  therefore,  I  abstain  from 
coquetting  with  my  pen  as  I  have  done  in  some  of  my 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  307 

previous  correspondence,  let  me  express  my  conviction  that 
you  will  not  blame  me. 

It  is  no  longer  a  Comedy  of  Human  Life  which  I  have  to 
describe,  but  a  Drama  with  which  I  have  to  deal — a  Drama 
full  of  mournful  interest,  and  with  whose  course  of  action 
you  are  specially  interested.  In  this  letter,  I  shall  not  wish 
to  invite  a  smile  upon  your  lips,  by  painting  the  vanity  or 
jealousy  of  the  artists,  or  drawing  with,  I  trust,  no  malicious 
pen  the  innocent  follies  of  their  and  mine  would-be  patrons. 
On  the  contrary,  it  is  a  tear  which  I  ask  from  you  and  my 
other  readers,  over  the  grave  of  one  of  'the  greatest  artists 
and  most  accomplished  women  of  her  day.  Be  not  astonished, 
therefore,  my  dear  Eckert,  that  I  am  serious,  for  I  am  about 
to  tell  you  some  of  the  facts  which  are  known  by  myself  and 
others,  without  fearing  the  consequences.  The  menaces 
which  have  already  found  their  way  to  my  ears,  since  it  was 
known  that  I  had  determined  to  write  upon  this  subject,  will 
not  have  the  slightest  influence  upon  me. 

For  you  may  rest  assured  that  nothing  shall  be  either 
disturbed  or  distorted  in  my  present  letter. 

On  my  return  to  Vera  Cruz  from  Mexico,  I  found  as  I 
have  already  told  Mr.  Gye,  that  two  operatic  companies 
had  been  formed  in  New  York.  These  were  the  companies 
in  which  Madames  Sontag  and  Alboni  were  the  prime  donne. 
At  the  same  time,  I  learned  that  Madame  Sontag  had  taken 
Mr.  Bernard  Ullmann,  into  her  service  as  one  of  her  musi- 
cal agents.  I  was,  let  me  own,  considerably  surprised  at  this. 
It  was  extraordinary,  and  has  always  appeared  so  to  me,  that 
such  a  noble  and  excellent  woman,  as  Henrietta  Sontag  had 
ever  been,  could  consent  to  associate  herself  in  any  way  with 
the  agent  whom  Henry  Herz  had  dismissed  ^rom  his  service 
in  Mexico,  whose  ears  had  been  boxed  by  another  of  his  em- 


308  REVELATIONS    OP   AN 

ployers  (this  was  Maurice  Strakosch,  whom  it  may  be  presumed 
you  are  acquainted  with)  in  Havana,  whose  back  had  been 
scored  by  a  cow-hide  in  the  hands  of  Benedetti  when  in  Bal- 
timore, and  who  had  been  condignly  kicked  out  of  the  Astor 
Place  Opera  House,  by  Mr.  R.  Martin,  then  the  treasurer  of 
that  establishment,  for  an  offence  which  not  being  at  all 
necessitated  to  allude  to,  I  shall  here  refrain  from  naming. 

Remember,  my  dear  Eckert,  that  I  by  no  means  enter  an 
apology  for  the  man  who  would  so  far  forget  himself,  as  to 
lay  his  hand  on  such  a  defenceless  person  as  the  aforesaid 
Bernard  Ullmann.  This  fact  is  only  adduced  to  show  that 
each  of  the  persons  who  had  punished  him  for  his  conduct, 
in  this  violent  and  personal  manner,  has  been  either  his 
employer  or  superior  (as  much  as  any  one  can  be  the 
superior  of  another,  in  the  only  free  country  in  the  world) 
in  position  or  talent.  Par  consequence,  it  is  evident  that 
such  a  person  could  neither  be  a  valuable  nor  a  peaceful 
agent. 

Since  this  time,  it  has  been  told  me  that  Mr.  Ullmann  in 
anticipation  of  the  announced  arrival  of  Sontag  on  a  profes- 
sional visit  to  this  country,  had  implored  a  letter  of  intro- 
duction and  recommendation  to  her,  from  the  Editor  of  the 
Herald.  Mr.  Bennett,  in  pure  commiseration  of  Ullmann's 
then  somewhat  precarious  situation,  had  furnished  him  with 
one.  Madame  Sontag  on  receiving  this  letter,  with  the  view, 
in  all  probability,  of  obliging  such  a  powerful  protector  of  her 
interests  as  Mr.  Bennett  afterwards  proved  himself  in  more 
instances  than  one,  consented  to  engage  him  as  her  agent. 
But  had  Mr.  Bennett  known  the  consequences  of  that  letter, 
he  would  never  have  given  it.  Nor,  had  Madame  Sontag 
then  imagined  what  was  to  be  the  result  of  her  engaging 
him,  would  she  have  thought  of  obliging  Mr.  Bennett. 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  309 

At  all  events,  let  me  confess  to  you,  my  beloved  friend, 
that  the  fact  of  this  person  having  been  taken  by  Madame 
Son  tag  as  her  agent,  had  occupied  my  mind  during  the  whole 
of  my  brief  passage  from  Yera  Cruz  to  Havana. 

When  I  at  length  arrived  there,  letters  were  awaiting 
me  from  my  correspondents  in  New  York. 

Amongst  these  were  some  of  the  circulars,  as  well  as 
Journals  containing  the  Bills  and  advertised  programme  of 
the  Sontag  troupe. 

In  these,  I  at  once  recognized  her  agent's  style  of  thought 
and  peculiarities  of  expression.  Indeed,  upon  perusing  the 
circulars,  was  I  the  more  especially  and  painfully  struck  by 
the  over-drawn  and  cringing  style  of  flattery  with  which  he 
appealed  to  the  taste  of  the  New  York  public,  as  well  as  the 
excessive  servility  with  which  he  spoke  of  their  well-known 
liberality. 

Experience  had,  long  since,  very  clearly  taught  me  that  a 
short  and  straight-forward  course,  the  more  particularly  on 
bringing  before  it  such  undeniable  and  indisputable  talent  as 
that  of  Henrietta  Sontag  was,  would  have  a  much  more  pro- 
found effect  with  the  general  population  both  of  New  York 
and  the  United  States.  Therefore,  I  not  unnaturally  regret- 
ted the  unmistakable  error  which  had  been  made  by  her  in 
permitting  such  a  class  of  appeal  to  be  put  forth,  under  her 
name,  for  the  universal  dollar. 

As,  in  the  afternoon,  I  was  walking  through  the  streets  of 
Havana,  mj  thoughts  were  still  upon  the  same  subject,  when 
in  passing  by  a  book-store  my  eyes  involuntarily  fell  upon  a 
pamphlet. 

Upon  its  title-page,  I  saw "  a  name.  This  name  was  no 
other  than  Bernard  Ullmann. 

Let  me  honestly  confess  to  you,  that  for  the  moment  my 


310  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

mind  could  scarcely  credit  mine  own  eyes.  Never  before  had 
my  brain  suspected  him  to  be  anything  of  an  author.  In 
doubt,  I  turned  away  my  head,  supposing  it  to  be  some 
species  of  mental  jugglery  or  an  optical  delusion.  A  second 
time  did  I  turn  towards  the  windows  of  the  store,  and  look  at 
the  pamphlet.  The  name  was  still  there.  For  a  third  time 
did  I  gaze  upon  it  but,  each  time,  I  read  the  following  in- 
scription palpably  set  forth  upon  the  title-page  : 

"  DIEZ  ANOS  DE  MUSICA  * 

EN 

Los  ESTADOS  UNIDOS 
FOR  BERNARDO  ULLMANN 

HABANA 

IMPRENTA  DE  ANTONIO  DA  VILA 
1852" 

Rushing  into  the  store,  I  bought  half  a  dozen  copies  of  it, 
and  casting  my  eyes  over  its  contents  ere  I  again  emerged 
into  the  street,  I  saw  sufficient  touching  Henry  Herz,  Sivori, 
Max  Maretzek,  Parodi  and  others,  to  confirm  me  in  the  be- 
lief that  this  pamphlet  was  written  by  no  other  than  the 

*  I  subjoin  the  translation  for  those  who  cannot  read  Spanish, 
TEN  YEARS  OF  Music 

IN 

THE  UNITED  STATES 
BY  BERNARD  ULLMANN 

HAVANA 

FEINTED  BY  ANTONIO  DA  VILA 
1852 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  311 

-. 

very  individual  upon  whom  my  thoughts  had  recently  been 
running. 

In  order,  however,  to  be  perfectly  sure,  before  quitting  the 
store  I  inquired  of  its  owner — 

"  Who  is  the  author  of  this  brochure  ?" 

"  Seiior,"  said  the  man,  "  you  see  his  name  upon  the  title- 
page." 

"  But  what  Bernard  Ullmann  is  it?" 

"  The  agent  of  Seiior  Strakosch  and  the  Senorita  Parodi 
who  visited  Havana  during  the  last  Spring,"  was  his  very  clear 
reply. 

Having  thus  ascertained,  beyond  the  possibility  of  any 
doubt,  who  this  Bernardo  Ullmann,  whose  name  stood  upon 
its  title-page,  really  was,  I  began  to  read  the  pamphlet  after 
my  return  to  my  Hotel,  whither  I  immediately  hurried  back 
as  fast  as  my  legs  would  carry  me. 

The  first  Chapter  bears  this  title — 

"  Los  AMERICANOS  * 

Y    SU    GUSTO    FOR   LA   MUSICA." 

On  the  table  beside  me,  were  still  lying  the  circulars  which 
I  had  previously  mentioned  as  containing  such  over-drawn 
flatteries  of  the  New  York  public  and  their  musical  taste.  In 
my  hands,  I  held  a  pamphlet  written  by  him  in  Spanish,  or 
published  at  all  events  by  his  authority  and  with  his  name 
appended  to  it.  This  last  abounded  with  abuse  and  slander 
levelled  against  and  written  of  the  public  of  New  York,  espe- 
cially, and  the  American  people,  generally.  For  your  edifi- 
cation and  their  judgment,  I  design  giving  a  few  extracts 
from  this  publication,  specifying  the  fact  that  I  still  retain  a 

*  The  Americans  and  their  musical  taste. 


312  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

copy  of  it  in  my  hands,  for  the  benefit  of  any  Spanish  scholar 
among  my  friends  in  this  country  who  may  wish  to  peruse  it. 
On   the  second   page   may  be  found  the  following  sen- 
tences : — 

**  "  La  grande  estrella  literaria  de  la  Inglaterra,  el  illustro 
Shakespeare,  escribio  hace  doscientos  aiios  estas  graves  y 
veridicas  palabras  :  "  El  hombre  que  no  posee  musica  en  su 
alma,  es  apto  para  la  traicion."  Se  esta  frase  del  gran  genio 
Ingles  encerase  una  completa  verdad,  podriallegarse  a  creer 
que  los  Americanos  son  aptos  para  foda  clase  de  traiciones, 
porche:  tiene  algo  de  musica  el  alma  del  Anglo- Americano." 

Now,  Don  Bernardo  Ullmann,  the  Spanish  author,  or  at 
all  events  the  gentleman  who  has  prefixed  his  name  to  this 
very  remarkable  brochure,  hereby  declares  that  the  American 
people  are  Jilted  for  any  kind  of  treason,  or,  at  any  rate,  he 
rather  more  than  implies  it. 

But  Mr.  Bernard  Ullmann,  previously  to  her  death,  Ma- 
dame Sontag's  principal  agent,  was  a  naturalized  American. 

Would  he,  therefore,  have  the  world  (or,  should  I  not  say, 
his  readers,  for  that  the  world  and  his  readers  are  entirely 
different  classes  of  the  community,  is  sufficiently  evident  by 
the  fact  that  he  can  yet  remain  in  New  York)  believe  that  he 
had  willingly  and  wantonly  affiliated  himself  upon  a  nation 
of  traitors  ? 

**  "  The  great  literary  star  of  England,  the  illustrious  Shakespeare, 
some  two  hundred  years  since  wrote  these  serious  and  true  words — 
"  The  man  that  hath  not  music  in  his  soul 

Is  fit  for  treason." 

If  this  phrase  of  the  great  English  genius  contains  a  complete  truth, 
it  may  lead  us  to  believe  that  the  Americans  are  fitted  for  every  class 
of  treason,  for  the  reason  that  the  soul  of  the  Anglo-American  contains 
no  taste  for  music. 


OPERA    MANAGER    IX    AMERICA.  313 

Remember,  my  dear  Eckert,  that  this  very  American 
people  whom  this  Hungarian  speaks  of  in  the  foregoing 
ungrateful  terms,  have  given  him  a,  by  no  means,  grudging 
hospitality — a  hospitality  which  has  been  demonstrated  to- 
wards myself  and  thousands  upon  thousands  of  Europeans 
who  have  settled  upon  their  shores — a  hospitality,  which  I 
am  proud  to  say,  the  larger  portion  of  us  most  thankfully 
and  gratefully  acknowledge.  For  ten  years  previous  to  that 
publication,  they  had  received  ( ! )  and  fed  (!)  and  clothed 
( ! )  this  identical  individual  from  Hungary.  Who  is  there, 
allow  me  to  ask  you,  in  reading  these  lines,  that  will  not 
remember  the  tale  of  the  peasant,  who,  having  picked  up  a 
half-frozen  snake,  restored  it  to  life  by  the  warmth  of  his  own 
fire.  No  sooner  was  it  recovered,  than  it  began  to  hiss  and 
protrude  its  fangs  at  its  benefactor. 

"  Oh,  ho !  you  brute ! "  quoth  the  peasant,  "  if  it  is  thus 
you  repay  my  benefits,  the  sooner  I  put  you  out  of  the  way 
the  better." 

But  again,  on  the  third  page  of  Don  Bernardo  Ullmann's 
grateful  lucubration,  you  can  read  the  following  : — 

"  Anadase  a  esto,  que  la  inmensa  inmigracion  Europea 
trae  consigo  el  amor  y  la  comprension  de  la  miisica,  pero,  no 
obstante  esto,  los  Americanos  estan  colocados,  respecto  £ 
gusto  musical  algunos  escalones  mas  bajos  que  sus  padres  los 
Ingleses."* 

But,  allow  me  to  ask  you,  how  you  can  imagine  that  the 
aforesaid  Don  Bernardo  Ullmann  can  reconcile  it  to  his  own 
musical  soul  to  remain  in  such  a  barbarously  unmusical 
country,  as  he  seems  to  consider  the  United  States  ?  Why 

*  "  In  addition  to  this,  the  immense  European  emigration  bears  with 
it  the  love  and  comprehension  of  music,  yet,  in  spite  of  it,  the  Ameri- 
cans stand,  with  respect  to  musical  taste,  a  few  degrees  lower  than  their 
parents  the  English." 


314  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

does  he  so  perseveringly  try  to  became  a  Manager  amongst 
such  a  tasteless  and  barbarous  nation  as  that  people,  of  which 
I  am  proud  to  own  myself  an  adopted  son,  are,  according  to 
his  views  of  them  ?  Why  is  it  that  he  has  not  betaken  him- 
self to  England,  where,  according  to  his  opinion,  they  stand 
a.  few  steps  higher  upon  the  ladder  of  musical  taste?  Or 
why,  my  dear  Eckert,  is  it,  that  he  has  not  taken  up  his  abode 
in  Havana,  among  the  Cuban  Creoles  whom  un-musical  Marty 
was  compelled  to  force  into  Operatic  patronage  ?  From  his 
pamphlet,  it  may  be  presumed,  that  he,  Don  Bernardo  Ull- 
mann,  attributes  to  them  the  highest  degree  of  musical  taste. 
Almost  immediately  after,  may  be  found  the  following 
wholesale  slander  upon  the  American  public : — 

"  Non  hay  effecto  sin  causa.  Qua!  es  la  causa  de  esta  im- 
perfeccion  en  la  organizacion  musical  de  los  Anglo- Ameri- 
canos ?  La  primera  y  principal  consiste  en  el  desenfrenado 
amor  que  profesan  a  su  venerado  dollard,  adorado  sobre  to- 
das  las  cosas  de  este  mundo  y  del  otro !  Dinero  !  La  ex- 
istencia  del  Anglo-Americano  esta  toda  consagrada,  desde 
antes  que  nace,  hasta  despues  que  se  muere,  a  la  adquisicion 
de  su  Unico  Dios"* 

By  this  quotation,  you  will  see  what  estimation  the  Spanish 
writer,  Don  Bernardo  Ullmann,  places  on  the  mental  and 
moral  nature  of  the  American  nation.  Who,  after  reading 
this,  will  fancy  that  an  American  can  venerate  and  love  his 
parents,  wife,  children,  or  friends  ?  Give  him  a  dollar.  He 
adores  that  alone.  Who  will,  after  reading  this,  on  your  side 

*  "  There  is  no  effect  without  a  cause.  What  is  the  cause  of  this 
imperfection  in  the  musical  organization  of  the  Anglo-Americans  1  The 
first  and  principal  consists  in  the  unbridled  love  that  they  profess  to  their 
venerated  dollar,  adored  beyond  all.  things  in  this  world  and  the  other. 
Money  !  The  existence  of  the  Americans  is  consecrated,  from  before  his 
birth  until  after  his  death,  to  the  acquisition  of  his  only  God." 


OPERA    MANAGER    IN    AMERICA.  315 

of  the  world  (if  indeed,  any  one  has  read  or  will  read  it) 
will  believe  that  the  American  can  adore  his  country,  and 
the  patriots  who  with  their  blood  and  brain  stamped  out  its 
Constitution  ?  Give  him  a  dollar.  He  worships  that  alone. 
Who  will,  for  a  moment,  imagine  that  any  American  can  be- 
lieve in  a  Creator  or  trust  in  the  immortality  of  his  own 
soul  ?  Does  not  Don  Bernardo  Ullmann  declare,  that  the 
whole  existence  of  the  American  is  consecrated  from  before 
his  birth  until  after  his  death,  to  the  acquisition  of  his  only 
God — money  ? 

It  may  be  considered  a  curious  metaphysical  fact,  my  dear 
friend,  that  this  man  should  thus  judge  of  the  nature  of  the 
Americans. 

The  first  person  which  a  new-born  baby  ordinarily  recog- 
nizes, is  the  one  which  nourishes  and  cares  for  it,  whether  that 
person  be  the  wet-nurse  or  its  mother.  From  this  fact,  it 
has  naturally  been  deduced,  that  gratitude  is  the  first  senti- 
ment or  instinctive  feeling  which  is  enkindled  in  the  soul  of 
man.  Gratitude  is  imbibed  with  the  milk  which  nourishes 
the  infant  and  animates  the  human  heart,  long  ere  the  sense 
of  religion  is  awakened,  which  is  neither  more  nor  less  than 
a  simply  more  holy  and  reverential  form  of  gratitude  towards 
Him  to  whose  Will  we  owe  our  existence. 

How  then  is  it,  that  a  man  who  owes  his  very  means  of 
living  to  the  American  nation — who  has  again  and  again 
returned  to  these  shores  to  speculate  upon  their  tastes  and 
good-will,  both  towards  himself  and  those  artists  for  whom  he 
has  been  acting,  can  be  so  utterly  lost  to  that  feeling  which 
may  almost  be.  regarded  as  universal  amongst  mankind,  as 
malignantly  and  unnecessarily  to  debase  their  character  in 
the  eyes  of  the  Cuban  Creole  ?  Was  it,  perchance,  that  he 
was  then  speculating  upon  the  feelings  which  he  must  have 
known  to  exist  amongst  the  Spanish  officials  of  the  island  of 


316  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

Havana  with  regard  to  the  American  nation  ?  No  gentleman 
is  there,  either  in  this  or  in  the  other  half  of  the  world,  who 
would  willingly  suppose  this.  Was  it  that  he  did  not  really 
think  what  he  was  then  writing,  but  simply  displayed  his  own 
diseased  appetite  for  the  dollar  (!)  in  his  own  person  ?  No 
gentleman  is  there  who  would  wish  to  conceive  that  this  might 
be  the  case. 

Be  it  sufficient,  Eckert,  for  ourselves,  that  I  will  not  pre- 
tend to  determine. 

You  know  as  well,  or  perchance  far  better  than  I  do,  that 
in  the  kingdom  of  Hungary,  that  land  which  has  the  honor 
of  claiming  him  as  one  of  its  children,  every  offence  commit- 
ted, whether  in  speech,  print,  or  act,  against  its  sovereign, 
your  own  Emperor,  is  condignly  punished  with  the  dungeon 
or  with  the  rope.  But  I  would  have  you,  my  good  Eckert 
(provided,  that  you  dare  do  so)  proclaim  in  Vienna  as  a  proof 
of  the  magnanimity  of  the  American  people,  that  the  very 
man  who  has  thus  slandered  25,000,000  of  the  American 
rulers  of  their  own  soil,  walks  about  upon  it,  amongst  them, 
and  draws  money  out  of  their  pockets,  unnoticed,  unmolested, 
and  literally  uncared  for. 

Be  patient,  my  good  friend,  and  excuse  me  if  I  once  more 
trespass  upon  your  time  with  another  quotation.  Here 
it  is: 

"  Como  pedir,  que  lloren  ante  un  tierno  adagio,  los  ojos  y 
el  corazon  que  solo  saben  llorar  quando  un  negocio  sale  mal, 
y  cuando  se  escapa  el  dollard  que  pensaban  adquirir  ?  Que 
es  para  un  Americano  una  partitura  de  Bellini,  de  Auber,  de 
Mayerbeer,  en  comparacion  con  el  armonico  libro  mayor,  que 
canta  en  su  ultima  pagina  una  ganancia  de  miles  de  pesos. 
Es  Verdi  comerciante,  6  siquicera  director  de  una  compania 
de  seguros  ?  Ha  sido  Mayerbeer,  alguna  vez,  director  de 
un  Banco,  6  de  una  sociedad  anonima  ?  No !  Pues,  como 


OPERA    MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  317 

tienen  la  insolencia  de  aspiraraque  el  ciudadino  Anglo- Amer- 
icano se  detenga  a  pensar  en  ellos  un  solo  momente  ? "  * 

It  may  reasonably  be  presumed  from  the  singularly  accu- 
rate mode  in  which  the  worthy  and  most  scrupulous  Don 
Bernardo  Ullman  here  guages  American  feeling,  that  no  citi- 
zen of  this  country,  whether  a  Yankee  or  a  Southerner,  could 
weep,  supposing  the  Cuban  Spaniards  to  attempt  the  an- 
nexation of  the  States  to  their  own  island,  provided  that  they 
left  him  the  "harmonic"  account  jotted  down  at  the  bottom 
of  his  balance  sheet.  Neither,  my  beloved  Eckert,  do  I  can- 
didly, all  things  considered,  think  that  they  would  be  inclined 
to  do  so.  Tears  would,  very  certainly,  not  be  shed  upon  this 
occasion.  On  the  contrary,  my  supposition  is  that  some  long- 
legged  Kentuckian,  or  a  swift-footed  hunter  from  the  upper 
end  of  Lake  Superior,  would  step  down  for  a  moment  to  in- 
quire into  the  matter.  Should  he,  by  any  chance,  find  that 
the  Spaniards  were  at  all  disposed  to  be  troublesome,  why, 
without  giving  them  any  time  to  annoy  us,  he  would  simply 
"  squat "  the  life  out  of  Havana  with  the  butt-end  of  his  rifle. 
Having  done  so,  he  would  once  more  return  to  his  forest- 
home,  and  forget  in  the  course  of  the  following  month  the 
mission  which  he  had  taken  upon  himself,  and  so  easily 
accomplished. 

But,  my  good  friend,  you  will  also  see  that  the  Spanish 

*  "  How  can  you  ask  for  tears  from  those  eyes  to  a  tender  adagio 
which  only  know  how  to  shed  them  when  a  speculation  turns  out  badly, 
or  when  the  dollar  they  had  expected  to  acquire,  escapes  them  1  Let 
an  American  be  shown  a  production  by  Bellini,  by  Auber,  or  by  Meyer- 
beer, side  by  side  with  that  book  which  shows  on  its  balance-sheet  the 
harmonious  sum  total  of  thousands  on  thousands  !  Is  Verdi  a  merchant 
or  director  of  a  company  ?  Has  Meyerbeer  at  any  time  been  the  Presi- 
dent of  a  Bank,  or  the  head  of  some  society  of  brokers?  No  !  Then 
how  can  you  have  the  insolence  to  imagine  that  the  beforesaid  Anglo- 
American  can  waste  his  time  in  thinking  upon  them  a  single  moment?" 


318  REVELATIONS    OF    AN 

Don  Bernardo  also  thinks  proper  to  inquire  of  the  Cuban 
how  he  can  have  the  insolence  to  believe  that  an  Anglo- 
American  (with  what  a  consummate  insolence  does  he  bestow 
this  name  upon  the  nation  of  which  he  has  become  a  part ; 
might  not  the  Englishman  as  well  be  called  the  Norman- 
Angle,  or  the  Frenchman  the  Gascon-Breton  ?)  can  waste  his 
time  in  thinking  upon  the  works  of  such  maestri  or  Bellini, 
Verdi,  or  Meyerbeer,  even  for  a  single  moment. 

Permit  me,  my  dear  Eckert,  to  grant  him  that  this  may  be 
the  case. 

But  let  me  tell  him,  and  you  also,  that  the  men  who  are 
building  up  the  power  of  a  greater  nation  than  the  world  has 
yet  seen — a  nation  which,  as  yet,  has  by  no  means  stridden 
into  its  full  manhood — may  be  very  fairly  excused,  if  they 
cannot  find  time  to  abandon  to  the  cultivation  of  the  mere 
graces  of  life. 

Yet  you  have  been  amongst  us,  and  know  that  these 
graces  are  cultivated;  and  this  with  neither  a  niggard  nor 
grudging  hand. 

Our  Spanish  preceptor,  Don  Bernardo  Ullmann,  would 
seem  to  forget  that  the  artistic  thought  of  the  United  States 
is  at  the  present  moment  engaged  in  developing  itself  through 
the  female  half  of  the  population.  Nor  am  I  by  any  means 
suggesting  a  new  idea  in  stating  that  it  is  so.  The  ladies  in 
this  country  are  the  real  amateurs  and  patrons  of  our  own 
Art.  In  the  hands  of  woman  is  it,  that  more  than  one-half  of 
the  literary  talent  of  the  United  States  develops  itself.  Do 
not,  for  one  moment,  imagine  that  I  am  drawing  upon  my 
imagination  for  these  facts.  While  such  women  as  Mrs.  Sig- 
ourney,  Mrs.  Beecher  Stowe,  Alice  Carey,  Mrs.  Anne  Ste- 
phens, and  scores  of  others  almost  as  great,  may  be  found  scat- 
tered on  every  side  around  you — while  there  is  scarcely  a 
single  Journal,  whether  in  the  North  or  South,  which  has  not 


OPERA    MAXACJKtt    IX    AMERICA.  319 

counted  or  does  not  count  a  female  pen  amongst  its  contribu- 
tors, it  may  be  felt  that  I  am  putting  forward  no  startling 
truth,  and  advancing  no  unknown  fact. 

It  may  be  possible  (mind,  I  simply  state  that  it  may  be 
possible,  for  I  by  no  means  undertake  to  reason  philosophi- 
cally upon  it)  that  the  genius  of  production  does  not  so  fully 
and  completely  develop  itself  in  the  female  intellect,  as  it  does 
in  the  male. 

Yet  the  genius  of  appreciation  does  so,  even  more  thoroughly 
and  readily.  This  works  with  a  two-fold  influence  upon  the 
development  of  the  national  intellect. 

Thus,  by  a  singularly  wise  and  admirable  compensation  of 
nature,  while  the  male  portion  of  the  stamina  of  this  country 
has  been  almost  solely  engaged  upon  the  task  of  maturing 
and  increasing  that  colossal  strength  and  earnest  vigor  which 
have  more  than  quintupled  themselves,  at  the  least,  within 
the  last  twenty  years,  its  female  section  has  been  performing 
a  labor  to  the  full  as  valuable,  although  its  results  are  at  pres- 
ent scarcely  as  fully  evident  as  they  will  be  in  the  course  of 
another  score  of  years.  It  has  done  its  share  of  the  work  of 
national  progress  in  maturing  and  encouraging  the  growth 
of  its  more  refined  tastes. 

The  fact  is,  my  good  friend,  that  Bellini's  "Norma"  has  never 
yet  failed  to  attract  a  large  audience,  whenever  it  has  been 
given  in  America.  Yet  this,  and  the  knowledge  that  Meyer- 
beer's Operas,  and  even  Verdi's,  have  been  hailed  with  en- 
thusiasm in  New  York  whenever  produced,  proves  nothing 
to  Don  Bernardo  Ullmann.  In  his  belief  the  American  is, 
as  he  implies  in  this  pamphlet,  a  barbarian,  a  traitor,  and 
also  an  atheist. 

But,  where  was  it  that  the  grateful  Don  Bernardo  took  it 
upon  himself  to  write  thus  ? 

In  the  Island  of  Cuba, 


320  REVELATIONS     OF   AN 

For  whom  was  it  that  he  thought  proper  to  write  thus  ? 

For  the  Spaniards  !  Mind  nie,  I  do  not  say  for  the  Cuban 
Creoles. 

Against  whom  did  he  write  thus  ? 

Against  the  very  nation  of  whom  he  had,  himself,  long 
since  become  an  adopted  citizen. 

Allow  me  to  say,  my  good  Eckert,  that  it  appears  to  me 
Don  Bernardo  Ullmann  himself  would  seem  to  have  been  a 
far  more  intense  and  baser  devotee  of  the  "  dollar"  than  any 
American  I  have  yet  had  the  chance  of  encountering.  The 
man  who  could,  in  his  hunger,  sell  his  birthright  to  his 
brother  for  a  mess  of  potage  (it  was  Esau,  if  I  remember 
rightly,  was  it  not  ?)  scarcely  seems,  at  least  in  my  eyes,  to 
have  even  approximated  to  his  degree  of  fleshly  and  creature- 
worship. 

But  I  feel  that  I  have  been  wandering  from  the  intents 
and  purposes  of  this  letter. 

You,  unlike  myself,  are  not  a  citizen  of  this  country,  and 
consequently,  cannot  feel  the  same  interest  in  these  matters 
which  they  excite  in  my  mind. 

Let  me,  therefore,  return  to  that  subject  which  I  hare  told 
you  it  was  my  intention  to  write  upon. 

After  my  arrival  in  New  York  from  Havana,  it  was  with 
infinite  regret  that  the  conviction  was  more  completely  forced 
upon  me  than  it  had  before  been,  that  my  apprehensions  re- 
specting the  management  of  Madame  Sontag's  Operatic 
concerns,  and  the  part  which  she  would  be  made  to  play  in 
them,  had  been  unfortunately  correct. 

It  will  be  scarcely  necessary  for  me  to  recall  to  your  re- 
collection the  manner  in  which  that  unfortunate  lady  was 
one  evening  intruded  upon,  between  the  Acts  of  one  of  those 
Operas  with  which  she  was  gratifying  the  public,  by  an  officer 
of  the  law.  This  officer  handed  her  a  summons  to  appear  and 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  321 

answer  the  claim  of  a  Chorus-singer,  against  one  of  her  agents 
for  the  paltry  sum  of  $15,  which  was  owing  to  him.  Justly 
indignant  that  she  should  have  been  subjected  to  this,  Madame 
Sontag  immediately  sent  for  the  individual.  You  will  under- 
stand that  I  allude  to  the  agent  and  not  to  the  Chorus-singer. 

"  Why  do  you  not  pay  this  man  ?"  was  the  inquiry  of 
Madame  Sontag. 

"  Because  the  affair  will  do  no  harm  to  our  business, 
Madame  la  Comtesse!" 

«  How  ?" 

"  If  Madame  la  Comtesse  were  to  appear  a  few  times  in 
the  courts — " 

"  But  I  have  no  desire  to  do  so." 

"  It  would  decidedly  increase  the  curiosity  of  the  public 
respecting  her  vocal  abilities." 

"  That  man  must  be  paid." 

"  I  am  quite  aware,  Madame  la  Comtesse,  that  you  must 
pay  him,  because  the  money  is  due  to  him." 

"  Then,  why  not  pay  him  at  once  ?" 

"  If  Madame  la  Comtesse  were  to  appear  in  court,  it 
would  make  the  affair  a  town-talk  1" 

"  I  have  no  desire  to  do  so." 

"Jenny  Lind  appeared  in  court,  Madame  la  Oomtesse. 
This  was  one  of  the  secrets  of  Mr.  Barnum's  mode  of 
management.  He  was  a  singularly  talented  man." 

"But  I  tell  you  that  I  do  not  wish  to  appear  there, 
sir." 

"  But,  Madame—" 

"  I  believe  that  I  may  succeed  in  America,  without  the 
public  scandal  of  refusing  to  pay  one  of  my  Chorus-singers 
$15  which  are  due  to  him,  as  you  state  yourself." 

"You  are  mistaken,  Madame  la  Comtesse!  Scandal 
14* 


322  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

is  the  system  and  secret  of  all  management  in  the  United 
States." 

It  was,  therefore,  of  no  earthly  use  to  her,  that  Madame 
Sontag's  own  sense  of  honor  and  ladylike  uprightness  re- 
volted at  her  agent's  dictation.  She  was  obliged  to  consent 
to  be  led  from  one  District  Court-room  to  another,  to  endure 
the  curious  stares  and  listen  to  all  that  was  said  respecting 
her,  by  the  crowd,  whom  the  rumor  of  this  case  had  drawn 
together.  The  miserable  Chorus-singer  who  was,  as  it  hap- 
pened, the  father  of  a  large  family,  had  to  wait  several 
months  for  his  small  one  week's  salary.  This  he  only  re- 
ceived through  my  mediation,  when,  several  months  subse- 
quently, Henrietta  Sontag  sung  with  me  in  the  then  summer 
Opera  House  of  New  York — Castle  Garden,  which  has 
recently  been  converted  into  a  depot  for  the  poorer  class  of 
emigrants. 

You  will  also  remember,  my  dear  friend,  how  one  of  her 
agents  used  her  name  upon  all  and  every  occasion.  How  he 
would  drag  her  into  all  manner  of  newspaper  disputes,  simply 
that  he  might  seize  upon  the  occasion  of  associating  his  own 
name  in  the  public  eye  with  hers,  as  the  agent  of  Madame 
la  Comtesse.  An  admirable  association  was  it,  indeed.  Such 
might  it  have  been,  if  the  blind  bard  of  Greece  had  linked 
Euterpe  together  with  his  own  invention,  the  mal-formed 
buffoon  Thersites. 

In  all  probability,  you  have  not  yet  lost  the  recollection  of 
a  certain  agent's  bitter  animosity  against  yourself  and  Poz- 
zolini,  simply,  because  you  could  not  and  would  not  debase 
yourselves  so  far  as  to  appear  to  be  on  friendly  terms  with 
him. 

The  contemptible  intrigues  may  recur  to  your  memory 
which  he  excited  and  constantly  fomented  around  you, 
because  Henrietta  Sontag,  with  the  strong  sense  of  justice 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  323 

which  was  so  marked  a  feature  in  her  character,  and  a  true 
and  intuitive  feeling  of  artistic  fraternity,  preferred  both 
yourself  and  Pozzolini  to  him.  You  may  remember  how 
continually  she  was  obliged  to  interpose  and  defend  you 
against  the  machinations  of  this  agent.  The  fact  will  also 
present  itself  to  you,  when  I  recall  it,  that  Madame  Sontag, 
worn  out  by  her  imposed  submission  to  the  trickery  and 
manoeuvering  of  one  of  her  agents,  and  weary  of  lend- 
ing her  name  to  him  in  his  constant  quarrels  with  everything 
and  everybody,  had  at  length  determined  upon  his  dismissal. 
When  she  had  finally  and  completely  decided  upon  this,  her 
husband,  the  Count  Rossi,  was  requested  by  her  to  call  upon 
him  and  inform  him  that  his  services  were  no  longer  neces- 
sary to  her.  In  other  words,  he  was  requested  to  give  him 
his  dismissal. 

All  this,  my  dear  Eckert,  you  doubtless  know  as  well  or 
far  better  than  I  am  able  to  tell  you.  But  there  is  one  part 
of  the  tale  which  you  are  unacquainted  with.  This  I  intend 
to  impart  to  you.  It  will  afford  you  some  information  re- 
specting the  interview  between  the  Count  Rossi  and  the 
individual  in  question,  which  it  is  improbable — or  may  I 
not  say,  impossible — that  you  should  have  yet  received. 

At  first,  their  conversation  was  conducted  with  considerable 
quietude.  It  may  be  presumed,  that  during  this  time,  the 
Count  stated  to  this  person  that  Madame  Sontag  had  deter- 
mined upon  dismissing  him.  However,  after  having  retained 
a  fair  regard  for  the  proprieties  until  this  point  in  their  inter- 
view, the  agent  got  warmer  and  finally  fell  into  a  passion. 
In  this,  he  was  imitated  by  the  Count.  They  got  warmer  and 
warmer,  until  they  at  last  screamed  and  vituperated  so  loudly, 
that  four  individuals  who  chanced  to  be  in  the  next  room, 
only  separated  from  them  by  a  closet,  were  enabled  to  hear 
every  word  which  passed  between  them. 


324  REVELATIONS    OP   AN 

Towards  you,  my  good  friend,  this  agent  thought  proper  to 
use  the  most  bitter  and  abusive  terms. 

As  a  gentleman,  the  Count  Rossi  actually  and  absolutely 
refused  to  listen  to  him. 

Finding  himself  foiled  in  this  attempt  to  injure  you,  in  his 
anxiety  to  keep  his  situation,  or,  at  all  events  if  he  failed  to  do 
so,  to  achieve  all  the  mischief  which  lay  within  his  power,  he 
uttered  a  gross  and  infamous  slander  against  one  of  the  purest 
and  most  noble  of  women.  Need  I  further  explain  what  was 
the  slander  uttered  by  this  man,  in  the  very  face  of  Henrietta 
Sontag's  husband  ?  I  feel  that  it  is  unnecessary  to  do  so.  It 
would  merely  be  to  soil  the  name  of  a  great  and  noble  artist, 
by  repeating  that  which  none  who  knew  her  could  believe. 
While  the  Count  remained  mute  and  horror-stricken  at  hear- 
ing this  atrocious  falsehood,  the  agent  in  question  had  the 
further  audacity  to  tell  him,  that  either  Pozzolini  and  your- 
self must  be  at  once  discharged,  or  that  he,  the  agent  aforesaid, 
would  take  it  upon  himself  to  make  blown  and  circulate  this 
slander — a  slander  which  in  all  probability  was  his  own  inven- 
tion, as  he  was,  very  certainly,  the  first  person  who  had  given 
it  utterance. 

"Without  having  known  this,  you,  my  dear  Eckert,  will 
remember  what  followed  upon  this  skilful  invention  (so  he, 
doubtless,  considered  it)  of  his  genius. 

The  Count  Rossi  returned  home,  of  course  not  believing 
him ;  but  felt  himself  weak  enough  to  take  those  measures 
which  had  been  imposed  upon  him. 

You,  yourself,  shortly  after  this  left  for  Germany,  while 
Pozzolini  accepted  an  engagement  in  Arditi's  troupe,  then 
about  starting  in  a  Southern  direction. 

Neither  was  this  person  (not  knowing  that  the  major  por- 
tion of  his  conversation  with  Count  Rossi  had  been  overheard) 
able  to  refrain  from  boasting  of  that  act  which  he  had  effected 


OPERA   MANAGER    IN    AMERICA.  325 

by  so  base  a  slander.  Some  few  days  afterwards,  he  was 
heard  valuing  himself  in  the  presence  of  several  gentlemen, 
upon  that  which  he  had  done.  He  did  not,  however,  dare  to 
tell  his  hearers  of  the  means  by  which  it  had  been  effected. 
He  said,  simply,  that  he  had  driven  you  out  of  America,  and 
had  forced  Pozzolini  to  retire  from  the  Company  which  he 
managed  for  Henrietta  Sontag.  Furthermore,  he  announced 
to  all  who  chose  to  listen  to  him,  that  Madame  la  Comtesse 
was  absolutely  forced  to  retain  him  as  her  agent  against  her 
own  wishes,  as  both  she  and  the  Count — her  husband — dread- 
ed the  power  of  his  pen,  and  his  influence  with  the  Press. 

When,  at  length,  unable  any  longer  to  support  his  presence, 
Madame  Sontag  found  herself  at  New  Orleans,  she,  with  her 
husband's  concurrence,  gave  him  a  large  sum  of  money  and 
sent  him  to  Europe.  His  mission  was,  ostensibly,  to  engage 
some  new  artists.  Her  design  was  purely  to  get  rid  of  him. 
Henrietta  Sontag,  whose  feelings  had  been  so  deeply  wounded 
by  his  slanderous  imputations,  declined  visibly  in  health  pre- 
vious to  the  time  at  which  she,  meanwhile,  having  accepted 
an  engagement  to  visit  Mexico  and  sing  there,  departed  for 
that  country. 

While  there — but,  No ! — 

There  is  not  the  slightest  need  that  I  should  inform  you  of 
that  which  subsequently  took  place. 

You  know,  and  so  does  everybody  who  takes  any  interest 
in  the  career  of  such  a  great  vocalist  as  Henrietta  Sontag  had 
been,  and  then  was,  that  she  died  while  in  Mexico.  She  died 
of  Cholera.  Rossi,  Beretta,  and  three  others  of  the  Company 
also  died  of  Cholera.  Poor  Pozzolini,  who  had  also  got  an 
engagement  given  him  by  M.  Masson,  who  carried  the  com- 
pany to  Mexico,  also  died  there.  He  died  of  Cholera. 

Do  you  wish  to  know,  Eckert,  to  whom  in  my  own  soul,  I, 
Max  Maretzek,  conscientiously  and  unhesitatingly  attribute 
this  termination  of  her  great  and  singularly  brilliant  career — 


326  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

a  career  which  blossomed  two-fold— once,  when  she  had  just 
entered  life,  by  the  retiring  figure  of  Pasta  and  at  the  side  of 
Malibran,  and  again,  when  Grisi  was  on  the  wane  and  Jenny 
Lind  had  retired  from  the  Operatic  stage  ? 

Then — let  me  tell  you. 

When  on  the  final  day  of  Earthly  life  and  Earthly  strug- 
gle— when  the  World  no  longer  possesses  any  attractions  for 
our  Souls,  and  wakened  from  our  long  sleep  we  stand  be- 
fore the  Judgment  Seat,  to  be  valued  by  Him  who  weighs  the 
virtues  and  the  misdeeds  of  Man,  you  will,  I  trust,  be  placed 
on  the  right  side  of  His  Throne,  along  with  those  who  have  an 
upright  heart  and  a  clear  conscience.  Then  look  around,  and 
let  your  eyes  fall  for  a  moment  upon  those  who  are  standing 
upon  its  left.  When  you  remark  amongst  them,  a  pale  and 
abject  being  trembling  at  the  chidings  of  his  then  awakened 
Soul,  and  quivering  with  his  fears — when  you  look  upon  a 
shape  which  you  may  safely  pronounce  the  most  wretched  in 
that  wretched  group  of  wretched  ones,  then,  Eckert,  you  may 
safely  exclaim — 

"  That  is  the  man,  whose  cowardly  tongue  calumniated  one 
of  the  best  and  purest  beings  who  had  moved  upon  the 
earth — Henrietta  Sontag,  the  Countess  of  Rossi !" 

JRequiescat  in  pace. 

MAX  MARETZEK. 


MY     POSTSCRIPT. 

TO    THE    PUBLIC. 

The  Academy  of  Music — Five  Chapters  in  its  History — Its  Manage- 
ment— The  Stockholder — A  Word  or  Two  respecting  Myself. 


OPERA    MANAGER    IN    AMERICA.  329 


MY  POSTSCRIPT. 

TO    TIJE   PUBLIC. 

NEW  YORK,  October  5^,  1855. 

MY   VERY   DEAR   PUBLIC, 

Whom,  some  three  or  four  hundred  pages  since,  my  fingers 
addressed  with  fear  and  trembling,  in  consideration  of  the  task 
which  had  been  imposed  upon  them,  allow  me  candidly  to 
state  to  you  that  if  you  have  read  thus  much  of  my  corres- 
pondence, my  natural  terrors  have  all  long  since  departed. 
That  man  is  neither  more  nor  less  than  a  fool,  who  finishes  a 
bottle  of  wine  because  he  has  paid  for  it,  should  it  chance 
either  to  be  flat  or  corky.  When  he  is  seen  emptying  the 
last  glass,  it  may  be  concluded  that  he  finds  it  of  a  fair  flavor. 
He  who  indues  his  upper  man  in  an  ill-fitting  vest,  or  badly- 
made  pair  of  pantaloons,  simply  upon  the  score  that  he  has 
liquidated  his  tailor's  bill,  suffers  his  regard  for  economy  to 
trench  pretty  closely  upon  his  personal  comfort.  Therefore  is 
it,  that  being  enabled  to  talk  with  you  on  the  present  page,  I 
congratulate  myself  to  discover  that  you  have,  without  halt- 
ing, travelled  so  far  with  me.  In  my  conviction  that  it  is  so, 
I  lose  much  of  my  modesty — at  the  moment  I  am  invisible  to 
you,  and  you  cannot  see  my  blushes. 

With  this  introduction,  you  of  course  perceive,  that  I  am 
about  to  excuse  myself. 


330  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

My  original  intention  was  to  have  written  in  detail,  upon 
the  subject  of  the  Academy  of  Music,  to  the  gentleman  or 
Chevalier  who  performed  the  duties  of  Acting  Manager  dur- 
ing the  last  season.  Unfortunately,  more  than  three  hundred 
and  twenty  of  the  pages  of  the  present  volume  have  been  en- 
grossed by  the  material  of  my  preceding  letters.  Conse- 
quently, about  twenty  pages  are  all  of  it  which  remain  to 
me.  Now,  although  the  Academy  of  Music  has  scarcely  as 
yet  stepped  out  of  its  nonage  (having  barely  entered  upon  the 
second  year  of  its  lonafide  existence),  its  true  and  faithful 
history  would  supply  me  with  more  than  enough  of  the  most 
interesting  material  to  fill,  at  least,  another  three  hundred 
pages. 

The  very  history  of  its  origin  and  the  curiously  conducted 
negotiations  respecting  its  first  lease  for  its  present  purpose, 
would  be  sufficient  for  an  entire  letter. 

Madame  Grisi's  and  Signor  Mario's  advent  to  this  estab- 
lishment, would  yield  me  the  matter  for  a  second  epistle.  The 
collateral  advertisement  of  the  personal  charms  of  the  latter 
vocalist  through  the  curious  medium  of  Miss  Coutts  (?)  and 
the  mis-management  of  that  very  excellent  Falstaff,  but  sin- 
gularly bad  Operatic  Manager — Mr.  Hackett — would  form 
some  of  its  most  interesting  details. 

Neither  would  the  determined  folly  of  Ole  Bull  in  becom 
ing  its  lessee,  with  the  view  of  making  his  debut  as  the  savior 
of  Opera  in  this  country,  nor  the  manner  in  which  his  lawyer 
so  grandly  mismanaged  its  affairs  during  the  two  weeks  that 
his  principal  continued  at  the  head  of  them,  fail  to  form  a  less 
amusing  chapter.  Indeed,  it  may  very  safely  be  affirmed  by 
me,  that  it  would  constitute  the  most  ludicrous  of  the  three 
which  I  have  already  mentioned. 

Next,  in  order,  would  come  the  enterprise  undertaken  by 
some  of  the  principal  stockholders.  In  this,  the  Chevalier, 


OPERA  MANAGER    IN   AMERICA.  331 

Henry  Wikoff  himself,  was  the  Acting  Manager  of  the  House 
as  well  as  of  the  Press.  This  would  be  to  the  full  as  crowded 
with  amusing  incidents,  as  I  trust  that  my  tour  through  Mex- 
ico has  already  proved  itself. 

Moreover,  the  arrival  of  the  La  Grange  troupe,  with  their 
provincial  flight  as  far  as  Cincinnati  and  back  again,  would 
constitute  a  fifth  and  capital  letter. 

But  besides,  that  there  is  no  room  for  me  to  do  more  than 
merely  glance  at  all  of  these,  there  are  other  reasons  which 
induce  me  to  refrain  at  present  from  speaking,  at  length,  upon 
all  of  them.  No  man  can  conscientiously  become  the  histo- 
rian of  the  time  he  is  actually  moving  in.  For  instance,  sup- 
posing that  I  were  to  speak  well  and  kindly  of  those  gentle- 
men who  have  been  recently  engaged  in  Operatic  manage- 
ment, what  would  you  say  to  me  ?  Not  altogether  unreason- 
ably might  you  look  one  at  the  other,  and  exclaim — 

"  Ah !  Mr.  iMax  Maretzek,  you  very  certainly  have  a  tol- 
erably clear  idea,  as  to  which  side  your  bread  has  recently 
been  buttered." 

Were  I,  on  the  other  hand,  to  choose  to  expose  their  mis- 
management, you  would  undoubtedly  say — 

"  Only  see  what  an  ungrateful  and  graceless  varlet  is  Max 
Maretzek.  It  is  a  pity  he  is  not  in  California.  There  he 
would  be  *  lynched '  quickly  enough." 

Consequently,  my  respected  Public,  feeling  tolerably  cer- 
tain that  this  would  be  your  mode  of  viewing  the  matter,  I 
shall,  for  the  present,  most  certainly  refrain  from  giving  you 
any  description  of  the  detailed  events  of  either  of  those  letters 
which  have  been  indicated  above.  If  you  demand  them,  after 
my  frank  expose  of  the  motives  which  induce  me  to  hesitate 
upon  giving  them  to  you,  why  that  is  quite  another  thing.  My 
fault  would  then  become  yours.  A  servant  of  the  Public, 
however  good  friends  he  and  his  many-headed  master  may 


332  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

be,  has  no  choice  but  implicit  obedience.  Only,  do  I  beg  you 
to  remember  that  I,  by  no  means,  come  forward  to  volunteer 
them. 

However,  some  few  facts  are  there,  upon  which  I  may 
speak  without  laying  myself  open  to  either  the  above  sar- 
casm or  the  latter  charge. 

One  of  these  is  the  building  of  the  Academy  of  Music. 
Immediately  after  the  closing  of  the  Astor  Place  Opera 
House  through  Donetti,  his  canine  actors,  and  the  astute  man- 
agerial agency  of  Mr.  William  Niblo,  the  growing  musical 
taste  of  New  York  suggested  the  formation  and  building  of  a 
new  Opera  House.  A  party  of  gentlemen,  therefore,  unactu- 
ated  by  the  desire  of  pecuniary  gain,  although  they  had  un- 
doubtedly no  desire  to  throw  away  their  loose  cash,  deter- 
mined upon  rearing  a  splendid  edifice  for  the  performance 
of  Operatic  entertainments.  Hence  sprung  the  Academy  of 
Music. 

Undoubtedly  the  musical  profession  to  which  I  belong,  as 
well  as  yourself,  my  very  good  friend  and  patron  the 
public,  are,  in  this  respect,  much  indebted  to  the  go-ahead  and 
business  activity,  as  well  as  the  love  for  Music  displayed  in 
this  instance  by  Messrs.  Phalen  and  Coit — the  latter  of 
which  gentlemen  has  been  a  consistent  friend  of  the  Opera  in 
this  country,  from  the  time  at  which  I  first  knew  him. 

Furthermore,  it  may  be  considered  as  a  good  sign  of  the 
times  with  regard  to  the  increased  feeling  for  Art  in  the 
United  States,  that  the  first  appeal  made  by  these  gentlemen 
to  yourselves,  brought  them  in  applications  for  more  than  two 
hundred  subscriptions  for  stock.  This  alone  might  show, 
were  there  no  other  evidence  of  it,  that  musical  feeling 
has  made  a  prodigious  stride  in  advance,  since  I  first  arrived 
in  my  present  country.  Each  subscription  was  accordingly  made 
$1000,  in  amount,  and  they  were  limited  to  two  hundred  in 


OPERA    MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  333 

number.  By  these  means  $200,000  were  at  once  raised, 
without  either  calling  upon  the  aid  of  the  Government  or 
taxing  the  people,  as  is  generally  done  in  Europe,  when  a 
nation  wishes  to  rear  a  Temple  to  the  Muse  of  Song. 

In  addition  to  this,  it  is  also  worthy  of  remark,  that  where  a 
want  of  Managers,  or,  at  all  events,  of  such  Managers  whose 
pecuniary  responsibility  was  fitted  for  dealing  with  the  inter- 
ests of  such  an  establishment,  was  felt  by  the  stockholders, 
one  of  them,*  and  subsequently,  two  others,  t  carried  on  the 
business  of  the  Academy  during  almost  the  whole  period  of 
its  existence,  and  this  in  the  one  instance,  entirely,  and  in  the 
other  pretty  nearly  so,  at  their  own  personal  risk  and  incon- 
venience. 

However,  with  the  best  of  possible  wills  upon  my  part, 
here  is  the  commendation,  that  I  have  felt  rejoiced  to  bestow, 
obliged  to  terminate. 

No  doubt  can  exist  but  that  the  intentions  of  all  the  origi- 
nators of,  and  stockholders  in  this  scheme  of  rearing  an 
Academy  of  Music  or  Opera  House  in  the  city  of  New  York, 
which  might  be  worthy  of  a  great  and  wealthy  Capital,  were 
disinterested.  Yet,  it  would  seem  that  in  some  way  or  other, 
mistakes  had  crept  into  the  conditions  of  the  Charter  of  the 
Academy,  as  well  as  in  the  construction  of  'the  building 
itself. 

At  the  Astor  Place  Opera  House,  as  probably  many  of 
you  know,  the  one  hundred  and  fifty-two  first  subscriptions 
paid  the  rent  of  the  building  for  the  Manager.  These  sub- 
scriptions went  at  once  to  the  proprietors.  He,  therefore, 
had  literally  to  pay  the  whole  of  his  year's  rent  in  ad- 
vance, before  he  began  his  business.  At  any  rate,  he  had  to 

*  This  was  Mr.  Payne,  the  present  Manager,  who  carried  it  on,  during 
the  second  month  of  Mario  and  Grisi's  engagement,  after  its  first 
instalment  by  Mr.  Hackett  had  terminated. 

t  Messrs.  Phalen  and  Coit. 


334:  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

pay  the  rent  of  the  whole  year  out  of  his  first  subscription  for 
four  months,  as  in  four  months,  his  season  would  be  finished. 
The  mere  fact  of  retaining  about  $12,000  from  the  Managers' 
hands  at  the  period  of  his  season  in  which  he  requires  the  most 
capital,  and  which  necessitates  the  larger  proportion  of  his 
outlay  and  expenditure,  was,  in  every  case,  both  onerous  and 
disastrous. 

But  in  the  Academy  of  Music,  a  rent  of  $24,000  (the 
double  of  that  demanded  for  the  Astor  Place  Opera  House,  is 
asked),  while  two  hundred  choice  seats  for  every  performance, 
during  the  whole  year,  are  req  uired  for  the  stockholders.  These, 
the  best  seats  in  the  House,  can  neither  be  let  to,  nor  occupied 
by  paying  persons,  upon  any  occasion. 

This,  it  is  obvious,  is  a  glaring  error  on  the  part  of  the 
proprietors. 

As  reasonably  might  a  man  who  builds  and  lets  a  dwelling 
at  a  fair  rental,  require  that  its  occupant  or  lessee  should 
invariably  keep  a  seat  for  him  at  his  table.  As  reason- 
ably might  a  man  who  sells  a  painter  a  canvass,  at  its  value, 
a'sk  that  four  inches  of  the  painting  should  be  cut  from  the 
principal  object  in  it,  and  handed  to  him  when  the  aforesaid 
painting  should  be  completed.  As  reasonably  might  the 
dealer  who  furnishes  a  merchant  with  his  Day-books  and 
Ledgers,  demand  the  right  of  inspecting  them  whenever  he 
might  think  proper.  Perhaps,  however,  this  right  might 
be  conceded  to  them  as  a  courtesy  by  the  Management,  sup- 
posing that  after  the  first  Act  of  the  Opera  was  terminated, 
these  seats  should  be  free  to  any  of  those  who  were  in  the 
House.  But — No !  These  seats  must  be  retained  for  the 
stockholders,  subject  to  the  chance  of  their  visiting  the  Acade- 
my at  any  time  during  the  evening. 

This  error,  it  will  fortunately  be  an  easy  thing  to  remedy, 
when  the  necessity  of  attending  to  it  is  forced  upon  them. 


OPERA   MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  335 

Let  us  now  examine  the  construction  of  the  building. 
When  built,  it  was  intended  to  contain  4,500  persons,  com- 
fortably. This  was  in  order  that  you,  my  good  friends,  might 
be  accommodated  en  masse,  and  also  at  prices  which  should 
be  acceptable  to  your  ideas  and  your  pockets.  It  was  not  the 
original  intention  to  have  built  a  theatre,  whose  prices  of 
admission  should  establish  the  fact  that  it  was  an  institution, 
destined  only  for  the  patronage  of  the  "  Upper  Ten."  You, 
as  well  as  I,  know  how  this  has  been  carried  out.  By  some 
fault  or  other  in  carrying  out  the  designs  of  the  architect,  or, 
very  possibly  by  some  error  upon  his  part,  the  Academy  of 
Music,  by  the  manner  in  which  its  seats  are  at  present  ar- 
ranged, cannot  comfortably  accommodate  and  seat  one-half 
of  the  proposed  number.  That  is,  more  than  one-half  of 
4,500  persons  cannot  sit  in  it,  and  see  as  well  as  hear,  with- 
out personal  discomfort,  that  which  passes  upon  the  stage. 
By  this  means  it  is  at  once  rendered  impossible  for  any  Man- 
ager to  employ  a  first-rate  Company  and  open  the  House  at 
reasonable  prices  of  admission,  while  he  places  new  Operas 
before  them.  But  in  addition  to  this,  the  heavy  expenses  in 
scenery,  dresses,  &c.  &c.,  attendant  upon  the  first  manage- 
ments in  any  and  every  new  theatre,  cripple  the  means  of  the 
early  Managers,  and  necessitate  either  a  failure,  or  the 
sinking  of  a  large  amount  of  capital. 

Now,  when  the  stockholders  originally  subscribed  their 
names  to  the  contract  and  paid  their  money,  it  may  be  fairly 
concluded  that  they  did  so,  simply  and  honestly,  in  the  belief 
that  they  were  thereby  helping  and  protecting  the  interests 
of  Art  in  this  country. 

Let  us,  therefore,  see  in  what  manner  they  have  been  paid 
for  doing  so. 

If  we  examine  the  seats  which  they  have  claimed  and  re- 
ceived during  the  first  year  of  the  existence  of  the  Academy 


336  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

of  Music,  without  for  a  moment  looking  at  the  rent  which  has 
more  than  paid  the  interest  upon  the  amount  of  capital  invest- 
ed in  its  building  and  decoration,  we  may  form  a  tolerably 
fair  idea  of  this.  Suffice  it  that  the  interest  paid  by  the  scats 
which  have  been  placed  at  their  disposal  constitutes  alone,  a 
reasonably  fair  ratio  of  proceeds  even  in  the  past  year's  tight- 
ness of  the  money  market. 

The  Mario  and  Grisi  troupe  played  in  this  theatre  some 
forty  nights.  The  seats,  therefore,  retained  invariably  for 
each  stockholder  at  the  regular  rate  of  admission — $2 — 
amount  in  the  forty  nights  of  the  season,  to  $80. 

Ole  Bull  gave  them  seven  nights  with  a  new  Opera  ex- 
pensively brought  out,  at  the  price  of  $1.50  per  seat.  This 
amounts  to  $10.50.  .  ' 

The  Committee  of  Management,  consisting  of  Messrs. 
Phalen  and  Coit,  gave  them  thirty-two  performances.  These 
at  the  same  price,  amounted  to  $48. 

And  finally,  the  Lagrange  troupe,  under  at  that  time  a 
mixed  regime,  gave  them  fourteen  nights  of  performance,  at 
no  advance  upon  the  preceding  prices.  This  brings  the 
amount  of  the  admissions  which  the  stockholders  did  not  pay 
for,  to  $21. 

The  total  amounts  to  $159.50,  paid  to  each  stockholder 
of  $lOOO's  worth  of  stock,  in  ninety-three  seats  for  the 
different  performances. 

Without,  therefore,  counting  the  Balls,  Concerts,  and  Lec- 
tures, or  the  day  performances,  to  which  their  holding  a  share 
in  the  stock  of  the  Academy  also  entitles  them  to  admission, 
you  will  find  that  these  ninety-three  performances,  alone, 
have  paid  them  at  the  rate  of  sixteen  per  cent,  (or  within  a 
mere  fraction  of  it)  for  their  invested  stock  of  $1000. 
When  to  this  the  rent  of  $24,000,  which  has  to  be  paid  by 
the  lessee,  is  added,  it  strikes  me,  my  dear  Public,  that  you 


OPERA  MANAGER  IN  AMERICA.          337 

will  see  Virtue  may  sometimes  very  thoroughly  verify  the 
old  adage,  and  be  its  own  reward.  The  stockholders  of  the 
Academy  intended  in  the  first  instance  to  benefit  the  taste 
for  Art.  It  must  be  admitted,  that  up  to  the  present  time, 
they  have  done  this  in  the  most  profitable  manner  possible 
to  themselves  personally. 

But,  in  addition  to  this,  be  it  remembered  that  the  seats 
given  to  the  stockholders  are  transferable. 

Consequently,  should  the  Manager  make  a  hit,  with  a  new 
Opera,  which  renders  it  advisable  for  him  to  run  it  for  a 
reasonably  long  period,  the  stockholder  may,  after  having 
seen  the  new  Opera  some  two  or  three  times,  transfer  his 
ticket  to  a  friend,  or  on  successive  nights  to  half  a  dozen  of 
his  friends,  who  would,  otherwise,  be  well  able  and  willing  to 
pay  for  his  or  their  admission.  The  loss  which  falls  upon 
the  treasury  of  the  Academy  (or  rather  should  I  say,  the 
treasury  of  its  Manager)  during  a  year's  performances  of 
ninety -three  nights,  cannot  well  be  less  than  $10,000,  for  it 
will  be  not  simply  during  the  run  of  new  Operas  that  this  is 
constantly  done.  Need  I  point  out  to  you,  my  dear  Public, 
that  this  is  a  gross  error  in  the  constitution  of  the  Academy 
as  a  paying  Opera  House.  It  requires  a  large  amount  of 
reform,  ere  a  Manager  can  get  up  new  Operas  in  it,  and 
place  them  upon  the  stage  at  reasonable  prices,  which  may 
bring  them  fairly  within  the  reach  of  every  musically  dis- 
posed person. 

These  facts,  in  deference  to  the  feelings  of  many  of  the 
stockholders  with  whom  I  chance  to  be  acquainted,  would,  let 
me  own,  scarcely  have  been  stated  by  me,  were  it  not  that  I 
am  compelled  to  do  so.  This  has  been  enforced,  as  it  were, 
by  the  meddling  of  some  of  those  indefatigable  busy-bodies 
who  contrive  to  make  themselves  far  better  acquainted  with 
15 


338  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

the  secret  intentions  of  your  and  my  souls,  than  we  profess  to 
be,  ourselves. 

Indeed,  I  have  been  obliged  to  write  on  this  subject 
purely  in  self-defence  against  their  tattling  impertinence. 

No  sooner  was  it  generally  known  that  I  was  engaged  upon 
arranging  and  writing  this  present  series  of  letters,  than 
they  chose  to  know  considerably  more,  about  my  purpose 
in  so  doing,  than  I  did  myself.  One  of  them,  in  the  coolest 
manner  possible,  affirmed  that  the  book  was  being  written  to 
avenge  myself  on  the  proprietors  and  stockholders  of  the 
Academy — that,  in  fact,  it  was  neither  more  nor  less  than  a 
sheer  production  of  spite,  because  they  had  not  thouglat 
proper  to  make  me  their  lessee.  Another,  no  less  boldly 
and  unhesitatingly,  volunteered  the  proposition  that  it  was 
simply  intended  as  a  bolus  of  flattery.  Indeed,  he  stated, 
although  not  quite  in  such  coarse  terms,  that  it  was  intended 
to  wheedle  them  into  the  idea  of  ultimately  confiding  its 
management  into  my  hands.  What  was  I  to  do  between  the 
two  stools  which  were  so  graciously  volunteered  me,  save  by 
sitting  upon  neither  of  them,  and  giving  a  clear  statement  of 
the  facts,  which  rendered  it  very  unlikely,  certainly,  that  I 
should  wish  to  do  so,  to  prove  most  conclusively  that  no  such 
idea  as  either  of  these,  could  have  originated  my  idea  of  writ- 
ing this  volume. 

But  there  are  also  others,  whose  attacks  upon  my  system 
of  Opera  management,  induce  me  to  go  somewhat  further. 

These,  seeing  that  I  am  at  present  simply  engaged  as  a  mu- 
sical Director  and  Conductor  in  the  Academy,  have  imagined 
that  there  is  nothing  more  to  hope  from  me.  Or,  perhaps, 
having  forgotten  that  all  their  knowledge  of  Operatic  affairs 
has  been  acquired  (you  must  pardon  me,  my  dear  Public,  if 
that  modesty  which  I  have  already  declared  to  be  one  of  the 
prominent  features  in  my  character,  seems,  in  the  present 


OPERA  MANAGER   IN  AMERICA.  339 

instance,  to  be  forgotten)  under  my  tuition,  they  believe  that 
they  may  pull  to  pieces  my  system  of  conducting  Operatic 
business. 

To  these,  I  can  oppose  no  other  defence  than  that 
of  making  you  acquainted  with  the  real  results  of  the  man- 
agement of  the  first  nine  months  of  the  Academy  of 
Music. 

In  spite  of  the  invariable  declarations  of  success  and 
prosperity,  which  were  issued  during  the  last  season  from  the 
bureaux  of  this  establishment,  the  losses  sustained  by  those 
gentlemen  who  had  so  nobly  (yet  I  must  say,  so  ignorantly) 
rushed  into  management,  were  singularly  heavy.  In  truth, 
they  were  so  enormous,  that  all  the  other  previously  bad 
results  of  Operatic  management  in  this  country,  fade  into  the 
merest  trifles  in  comparison  with  them.  If  previous  Mana- 
gers as  well  as  myself,  had  no  millions  of  dollars  (!)  at  their 
back,  to  enable  them  to  withstand  the  actual  as  well  as  moral 
shock  of  their  losses,  this  was  no  fault  of  ours.  We  can  but 
say,  that  we  are  pleased  to  find  men  of  large  capital,  who 
might  be  disposed  to  prove  that  the  management  of  Opera 
was  by  no  means  .that  inexpensive  amusement  which  they 
had  previously  imagined. 

If,  however,  the  luckless  Managers  with  small  means  at 
their  command  (naturally,  my  beloved  Public,  I  myself  must 
be  included  among  these)  have  done  as  much  or  more,  and  lost 
less,  it  must  candidly  be  admitted  that  the  mode  of  management 
which  they  adopted  was  by  no  means  a  bad  one.  Neither  will 
you  withhold  from  them  your  esteem,  even  should  they  not  have 
been  able  to  convince  you  that  their  management  was  attended 
with  the  most  complete  success.  Nor,  indeed,  do  I  feel  my- 
self unentitled  to  ask  you  for  it.  Such  Operas  as  I  was  then 
enabled,  by  the  personal  superintendence  which  was  exercised 
by  me  over  every  division  of  my  company,  both  in  Castle 


340  REVELATIONS    OP   AN 

Garden  and  at  the  Astor  Place  Opera  House,  to  place  upon 
the  stage,  at  fifty  cents  admission,  supported  by  such  artists 
as  Bosio,  Henrietta  Sontag,  Steffenone,  Salvi,  Bettini,  Poz- 
zolini,  Badiali,  Marini,  and  others  whom  it  would  be  needless 
for  me  to  enumerate,  have  not  as  yet  been  surpassed  any- 
where upon  this  continent.  For  this,  I  may  undoubtedly  ap- 
peal to  the  opinion  of  any  real  and  impartial  lover  of  Ope- 
ratic music. 

The  "  star "  system  of  management,  as  it  is  called,  I  have 
most  certainly  always  repudiated ;  but  allow  me  to  ask  you, 
whether  any  one  of  those  artists  whom  I  have  named  was 
not  fitted  to  have  shone  alone,  had  my  rules  of  conducting 
Operatic  affairs  permitted  me  to  deal  in  this  line  of  busi- 
ness. Bosio  was  as  great  an  artist  then,  as  she  is  now, 
when  she  has  achieved  her  rank  as  one  of  the  European  "  gal- 
axy "  of  well-known  names  in  modern  vocalism.  Sontag  was 
as  much  a  "star"  under  my  management,  as  she  was  when 
she  first  appeared  in  this  country.  If  with  me,  her  beams 
were  not  permitted  to  engross  the  whole  of  popular  admira- 
tion, it  was  simply  that  I  neither  could,  nor  would  aid  in  per- 
petrating such  an  injustice  upon  the  other  artists  who,  with 
her,  formed  my  company.  Steffenone  is  too  well  understood 
and  valued  in  this  section  of  the  world,  to  render  it  necessary 
for  me  to  dilate  upon  her  planetary  proportions.  Salvi,  if 
second  to  any  other  living  tenor,  could  only  have  been  con- 
sidered second  to  Mario.  Badiali  was  and  is  one  of  the  three 
best  barytones  to  be  met  with,  on  this  or  on  the  other  side  of 
the  Atlantic ;  while  Marini,  as  I  have  elsewhere  stated,  stands 
alone  with  Lablache  at  the  head  of  all  the  lassi  of  their  period. 
Better  ones  may  have  been.  At  all  events,  neither  yourself, 
my  beloved  Public,  nor  myself,  have  heard  any  such.  Better 
ones  may,  at  some  future  period,  be.  Very  possibly,  neither 
you  nor  I  shall  live  to  hear  them.  If,  then,  in  no  more  than 


OPERA   MANAGER  IN   AMERICA.  341 

one  instance,  I  have  resorted  to  (and  this  was  compulsorily,  in 
the  case  of  Parodi)  the  "  starring"  system,  it  has  not  been  for 
the  want  of  planets,  had  I  chosen  to  employ  them. 

There  is  such  a  thing  as  an  embarras  des  richesses.  The 
man,  who  has  his  pockets  full  of  gold  eagles,  would  be  the  least 
likely  person  in  the  world  to  have  a  hole  bored  through  one 
of  them,  and  suspend  it  round  his  neck. 

Such  an  act  of  vanity  could  only  be  perpetrated  by  a  Caffre- 
Hottentot  or  a  Mosquito-Indian. 

In  order,  however,  to  justify  myself  in  that  which  I  have 
advanced,  and  to  protect  myself  against  the  imputation  of  un- 
dervaluing the  success  of  recent  managements,  I  shall  take  it 
upon  myself  to  name  the  sums  which  in  my  belief  and  esti- 
mation, and  indeed  to  my  tolerably  certain  knowledge,  have 
been  sunk  during  the  last  year  at  the  Academy  of  Music  in 
the  production  of  Italian  Opera.  And  it  may  be  trusted,  that 
the  various  lessees  will  excuse  that  which  is  very  assuredly 
no  breach  of  confidence  upon  my  part,  as  their  losses  have 
been  common  topics  of  conversation  with  all  who  were  or  are 
connected  with  the  establishment. 

Mr.  Hackett  opened  this  theatre  with  the  Operatic  troupe 
that  he  brought  out  to  this  country  accompanying  Mario  and 
Grisi.  After  the  first  month  of  Opera,  he  threatened  to  quit 
it,  whether  by  reason  of  his  too  heavy  losses,  or  from  the  im- 
mense trouble  of  counting  his  receipts,  let  me  confess  myself, 
without  inquiry,  unable  to  determine — not  having  been  at  this 
period  in  New  York.  Perhaps  a  shrewd  guess  might  be 
made  by  me,  but  it  would  be  useless.  Let  me,  therefore, 
admit  that  at  the  end  of  this  month  Mr.  Hackett's  balance- 
sheet  came  out  perfectly  fair,  and  that,  if  on  examining  it,  he 
found  he  had  made  nothing,  he  was  at  any  rate  equally  con- 
vinced that  his  treasury  exhibited  no  very  visible  deficiency. 
Be  this  as  it  may,  in  the  second  month  of  the  Grisi  and  Mario 


342  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

engagement,  these  artists  were  under  the  management  of  a 
party  of  the  stockholders  of  the  Academy. 

This  month's  losses  were,  at  least $8,000 

Mr.  W.  H.  Payne,  together  with  Mr.  Hackett,  carried 
it  on  for  the  third  month.  Their  losses  were,  at 
least 4,000 

Ole  Bull,  (although  I  confess  I  had  believed  him  to 
have  made  $4  in  his  speculative  attempt  on  manage- 
ment,) considering  that  he  has  sold  his  property 
under  its  value,  and  neglected  to  accept  the  engage- 
ments made  by  Strakosch,  will  find  himself  the  suf- 
ferer (not,  certainly,  to  the  tune  of  $13,000,  as  he 
has  stated)  to  the  amount  of,  at  least 4,000 

The  Committee  of  Management,  with  the  Chevalier 
Henry  Wikoff  as  Acting  Manager,  lost,  with 
"  crowded  houses,"  the  sum  of,  at  least  .  .  .  •  .  28,000 

The  La  Grange  Operatic  Company,  or  their  propri- 
etors and  Managers,  could  not  have  lost  during 
their  short  season,  less  than,  at  the  least  .  ,  .  ,>.  Li  12.000 


Total  loss  from  November,  1854,  to  July,  1855,  at  the  j    ^.g  _ 
least '.    :.  • "•.     .  ) 

Considering,  that  in  reckoning  this  as  nearly  as  a  person  is 
able  to  do  who  has  not  access  to  the  books  of  either  manage- 
ment, I  have  neither  counted  Mr.  Hackett's  first  and  opening 
month,  nor  the  loss  consequent  upon  the  house  having  been 
closed  during  the  month  of  last  January  and  the  half  of  last 
February  to  the  stockholders,  it  may  be  seen  that  the  various 
managements  lost,  in  scarcely  more  than  seven  months,  the 
immense  sum  of  $56,000. 

This  sum  which  was  sunk  in  seven  months,  is,  at  the  least, 
three  times  as  much  as  the  wjaole  of  my  losses  in  six  years  of 
management.  While  the  fourth  part  of  this  sum  would  be 
more  than  sufficient  to  settle  all  the  liabilities  which  have 


OPERA    MANAGER   IN   AMERICA.  343 

been  contracted  by  me  in  this  period,  for  the  sake  of  carrying 
out  the  establishment  of  regular  Operatic  entertainments 
in  this  city. 

With  such  losses  in  prospect  (because  they  have  invariably 
occurred),  it  is  at  once  evident  that  Managers  will  by  no  means 
present  themselves  with  great  plenty,  for  the  Academy  of 
Music,  in  Fourteenth  Street. 

It  is  true  that  Mr.  W.  H.  Payne  has  undertaken,  once 
more,  the  risks  and  probable  losses  attendant  upon  this  sin- 
gularly seductive  business.  His  means  and  his  position  may 
be  considered  an  ample  guarantee  for  the  termination  of  the 
season.  Nay  !  He  possesses  qualities,  that  with  the  expe- 
rience of  some  few  years  in  the  business,  might  ripen  him 
into  an  admirable  Manager. '  But,  my  kind  Public,  my  belief 
is  that,  when  the  present  season  has  drawn  to  a  close,  he  will 
be  satisfied  with  the  experiment.  Should  this  be  the  case,  it 
is,  I  must  be  allowed  to  say,  high  time  that  the  stockholders 
should  revolve  the  future  prospects  of  their  magnificent 
Operatic  establishment.  Indeed,  they  must  do  so,  sooner  or 
later,  if  they  would  place  it  upon  a  sure  basis,  and  prevent 
it  at  last  experiencing  the  fate  of  the  Astor  Place  Opera 
House. 

They  have  the  means  in  their  hands  to  establish  an  Oper- 
atic theatre.  They  certainly,  at  one  time,  had  the  will  to  do  so. 

Why  is  it  that  they  should  be  unable  to  carry  out  their  in- 
tentions ? 

If  they  really  wish  to  benefit  the  musical  taste  of  this 
countiy,  they  are  necessitated  to  reduce  the  rent  to  the  lowest 
possible  figure,  which  may  return  them  a  fair  per  centage  upon 
their  original  outlay.  On  the  present  terms,  two  or  three 
more  attempts  may  be  made  to  carry  on  an  Operatic  business 
in  the  establishment.  But  such  a  gallant  love  for  Music?  my 
dear  Public,  must  soon  be  extinguished  by  its  inevitable 


344  REVELATIONS  OF    AN 

losses.  The  best  of  us  cannot,  for  your  gratification,  continue 
management  at  a  certain  and  dead  loss.  In  addition  to  this 
I  must  be  permitted  to  state,  that  they  ought  to  be  contented 
with  a  certain  number  of  admissions  for  a  certain  number  of 
nights  in  each  season.  On  these  nights,  each  of  these  admis- 
sions might  be  valued  at  one  dollar.  But  should  they  choose 
to  have  secured  seats,  for  each  seat  so  secured,  they  ought  to 
pay  that  additional  fifty  cents  per  night,  which  the  stockholders 
in  the  new  Theatre  at  Boston  have  consented  to  pay.  By  these 
means,  and  by  these  alone,  is  it  possible  that  the  Academy  of 
Music  might  flourish  and  honestly  pay  not  only  the  stockhold- 
ers, but  its  management 

With  sixty  admissions  each  year,  on  these  terms,  they  would 
make  six.  per  cent,  on  their  capital,  and  for  securing  their 
seats,  if  they  thought  proper  to  do  so,  it  would  only  cost  them 
the  trifling  sum  of  $30  additional,  upon  a  season  of  sixty 
nights. 

If,  however,  the  stockholders  are  determined  to  change 
nothing  in  the  statutes  and  by-laws  of  their  constitution, 
then  let  them  join,  and  jointly  carry  on  the  Academy  of 
Music.  Let  them  select  a  good  and  clever  man  of  some 
business  tact  from  their  own  body  (there  are  many  such 
amongst  them),  and  constitute  him  their  Acting  Manager. 
Let  them  give  him  their  joint  authority  for  all  their  business 
and  monetary  transactions.  Then,  let  them  engage  some 
able  musical  man  for  the  management  of  musical  matters 
and  the  stage.  In  all,  the  number  of  stockholders  is  200, 
and  in  such  a  case  this  number  might  be  increased. 
Should  a  bad  season  result,  which  it  is  impossible  for  any 
amount  of  foresight  at  all  times  to  obviate,  each  of  them 
might  lose  the  comparative  trifle  of  $40  to  $50,  which  multi- 
plied by  200  (supposing  that  they  have  not  increased  their 
number),  would  amount  to — from  $8,000  to  $10,000  for  the 


OPERA    MANAGER    IN    AMERICA.  345 

year.  But  there  is  the  chance  that  in  choosing  their  Mana- 
ger well,  they  might  come  out  tolerably  clear,  or  even  make  a 
reasonable  profit  upon  the  experiment.  This  might  either 
go  into  their  individual  pockets,  or  should  they  possess  a  taste 
for  a  more  elevated  and  abstract  kind  of  pleasure  than  that 
of  a  mere  pecuniary  profit,  it  might  be  devoted  to  the  insti- 
tution and  formation  of  a  school — an  American  school — for 
either  vocalism  or  composition,  or  possibly,  for  both  of  these 
branches  of  musical  taste  and  musical  education. 

And  now,  my  kind  friends,  I  have  completed  the  book 
which  you  asked  me  for.  That  it  is  by  no  means  a  wonder- 
ful example  of  the  choicest  and  most  elegant  English,  you 
need  not  tell  me. 

My  knowledge  of  style  and  manner,  even  in  your  language, 
convinces  me  that  its  faults  are  many.  Let  me  hope  that  these 
may  be  overbalanced,  by  the  interest  your  love  for  Music  may 
induce  you  to  take  in  the  events  recorded.  If  my  conti- 
nental education  has  induced  me  to  deal  sharply  with  many 
of  whom  I  have  written,  remember,  that  I  have  earned  the 
right  to  speak  by  my  submission  to  having  been  spoken  of. 
Those  who  play  at  bowls  must  expect  rubs,  at  some  time  or 
other.  At  present,  the  ball  has  been  in  my  hands,  and  I  wiH 
not  deny  that  it  was  used  with  a  tolerably  willing  arm.  If 
it  has  ever  rolled  contrary  to  its  true  bias,  it  has  been  from  a 
want  of  training  in  the  muscle  that  was  sending  it  towards  its 
mark.  The  error  has  been  not  so  much  in  the  will  as  in  the 
manner  of  my  action.  In  a  word,  it  is  because  my  shoulders 
have  not  felt  at  ease  in  the  garb  of  another  language  than 
mine  own.  Find  fault  with  me,  if  you  will,  for  my  errors  in 
this  respect,  and  I  will  bear  it  patiently.  To  your  discipline 
I  have  always  bowed. 

But,  believe  me,  when  I  tell  you  that  purely  personal 
criticism  will  be  utterly  thrown  away  upon  me. 

15* 


346  REVELATIONS    OF   AN 

Those  who  feel  aggrieved,  may,  should  they  wish  to  do  so, 
retaliate  upon  me.  Too  long  have  I  been  connected  with 
the  Press,  both  in  France  and  Germany,  not  to  know  what  I 
have  to  expect. 

Thus,  having  eased  and  cleared  out  my  soul,  I  throw  down 
my  pen  and  confide  myself  to  your  judgment.  Your  support 
has  invariably  been  the  only  reward  which  I  have  sought  for 
my  exertions,  since  the  lesson  which  was  given  me  by  my 
first  season's  management  at  the  Astor  Place  Opera  House. 
My  care  has,  since  that  period,  been  only  for  your  decision. 
My  appeals  have  ever  been  made  simply  to  your  liking. 
Show  me  that  you  relish  my  "  crotchets  and  quavers,"  and 
my  modesty  (!)  will  be  amply  satisfied.  Grant  that  I  have 
fairly  used  my  present  language,  and  the  sneers  at  my  igno- 
rance of  its  forms  will  by  no  means  worry  me.  Permit  me, 
therefore,  to  assure  you,  that  I  remain  as  I  have  always  done — 
Yours,  most  gratefully  for  past  kindness, 

and,  hopefully  for  future  favors, 

MAX  MARETZEK. 


FRENCH'S 


PRICE  12J  CENTS  EACH. — BOUND  VOLUMES,  $1.00. 


VOL.  I. 

1.  Midsummer-Night's 

Dream. 

2.  Popping  the  Question. 

3.  La  Tour  de  Nesle. 

4.  Deaf  as  a  Post. 

5.  *Therese  ;  or,  The  Or- 

phan of  Geneva. 

6.  Flying  Dutchman. 

7.  New  Footman. 

8.  Pleasant  Neighbor. 


VOL.  II. 

9.  *Ireland  As  It  Is. 

10.  Game  of  Love. 

11.  Rip  Van  Winkle- 

12.  *In  and  out  of  Place. 

13.  Tempest. 

14.  Dombey  &  Son. 

15.  Seven  Clerks. 

16.  Bryan  O' Lynn. 


VOL.  III. 

17.  *0ur  Jemima. 

18.  David  Copperfleld. 

19.  Ugalino. 

20.  Love  and  Murder. 

21.  Forty  Thieves. 

22.  *PaddyvOarey, 

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24.  Two  Gregories. 


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Something  Good  foi  Families.  -Every  Mother  and  Daughter  should  study  It 
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XJS  H.TJT3E3C  ^1-A.ILrXj   IFAIKTIKrY 

OR    SOMEBODY  ELSE? 

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AUTHOR  OF  FERN  LEAVES  AND  RUTH  HALL, 

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In  this  volume,  several  of  Fanny  Fern's  efforts  appear  for  the  first  time  in 
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*  The  Plen-Pecked  Husband."  This  work  has  received  very  flattering  encomiums  from 
the  English  press ;  and  with  one  accord,  it  is  pronounced  superior  to  the  former  novel  by 
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startle  us  with  "  the  counterfeit  semblance."— London  Literary  Gazette. 

This  is  a  truly  great  romance  !    The  author  of  "  Frank  Fairlegh,"  which  has  had  nn 
unprecedented  sale  among  modern  novels,  has,  in  the  present  work,  given  us  a  master- 
piece, the  glowing  and  life-like  features  of  which  will  be  recognised  as  presenting  one  of 
the  finest  pictures  of  society  extant.—  London  Court  Journal.    Price  50  cents. 
Sue's  Greatest  Romance— complete  in  one  Vol.     372  pages. 

MARTIN  THE  FOUNDLING; 

THE  ADVENTURES  OF  A  YALET-DE-CHAMBRE. 

BY  M.  EUGENE  SUE, 
AUTHOR  OF  "THE  MYSTERIES  OF  PARIS,"  "WANDERING  JEW,"  ETC.  raa 

BEAUTIFULLY  ILLUSTRATED. 

The  vicissitudes  of  life  are  fearfully,  but  vividly,  depicted  in  this  work.  The  conse- 
quences of  crime,  error,  and  delusion,  are  portrayed  in  a  light  so  glaring  that  escape  is  im- 
possible, and  the  conviction  of  social  evils,  stupendous,  and  destructive,  Is  irresistible. 
There  are  few  books  calculated  to  do  so  much  good.—  Weekly  Times. 

This  is  a  great  work !— a  powerful  and  overwhelming  essay  on  crime  and  virtue,  and 
the  evils  of  our  social  organization.  To  the  deep  and  thrilling  effect  of  a  splendid  ro- 
mance, is  added  the  never-failing  interest  which  truth  inspires;  for  its  pictures  of  life  are 

alNevw  haTthe'pen'of  the  Novelist  wielded  a  more  beneficial  Influence  than  in  this 
work.  To  paint  crime  and  error  in  their  true  colors,  and  without  revolting  the  delicate 
sense,  to  carry  conviction  to  the  heart,  is  the  work  of  a  master  hand.  Such  a  one  Is 
Kugene  Sue,  and  this  is,  perhaps,  his  ™ffl*»[-£  BRQTHElT  **' 

New  York. 


V  Co?1*8  mailed,  on  receipt  of  the  above  prices  (post  paid). 


CELEBRATED  AND  UNIVERSALLY  POPULAR  WORK !! 


DOW   JR.'S 


121    NASSAU  STREET. 


This  Work  is  published  in  tnree  volumes.    .Paper  covers.    Price  50 
cents  per  vol. 

A    LIBRARY    EDITION, 

Beautifully  bound,  in  three  volumes,  cloth,  price  75  cents  per  volume.  COPIES 
MAILED  on  receipt  of  price.    Address  as  above. 


A  BOMAKCE  POUNDED  ON  FACI-A  WOBK  WOBTH  BEADDTG. 

THE  LAWYER'S  STORY; 

Or,  THE  ORPHANS'  WRONGS. 

A    DEEPLY     INTERESTING    NARRATIVE,     FOUNDED     ON     FACT. 
BY  A   MEMBER   OF  THE    NEW  YORK   BAR. 


This  story  opens  with  a  scene  in  New  York,  only  a  few  years  ago,  in  which  a  brother  and 
•wter,  the  hero  and  the  heroine  of  the  story,  are  introduced  by  the  lawyer,  in  a  condition  of 
honest  poverty.  He  furnishes  them  with  temporary  employment,  but  subsequently  loam 
light  of  them  until  they  are  recalled  to  his  recollection  in  consequence  of  his  reading  an 
•dvertisemant  respecting  them  in  a  Philadelphia  newspaper,  which  hints  that  they  are  heirs 
to  large  property  in  England,  as  well  as  in  the  United  States.  With  some  difficulty  the 
lawyer  traces  them  out,  and  determines  to  take  their  case  in  hand  ;  but  for  a  long  time  his 
efforts  are  fruitless  in  consequence  of  Jesuitical  machinations,  employed  by  some  of  the 
noble  relatives  of  iae  brother  and  sister,  who  desire  to  get  the  property  into  the  clutches  of 
the  Church.  Th<  young  lady  falls  temporarily  into  the  power  of  Jesuitical  agents  In  this 
country,  but  is  rescued  just  as  she  is  on  the  point  of  being  despatched  to  Italy,  to  be  placed 
in  a  convent,  through  the  compassion  of  a  servant.  Eventually  they  arrive  in  England,  and 
the  lawyer  undertakes  to  watch  over  their  interests,  and  at  the  same  time  obtains  the  assist- 
ance of  an  English  lawyer  of  eminence. 

However,  Jesuitical  and  aristocratic  influences  still  prevail  against  them,  and  the  two 
scoundrels,  of  the  Quirk,  Gammon  and  Snap  school,  named  "  Gripes  and  Cheatem,"  are 
employed  by  their  titled  relatives  to  throw  every  obstacle  in  their  way,  and  for  a  long  time 
they  succeed.  At  length,  however,  truth  prevails,  and  the  story  ends  happily. 

The  narrative  bears  on  the  face  of  it  an  impress  of  truth  ;  certainly  the  author  has  dis- 
played a  profound  knowlege  «f  human  nature  in  all  its  phases,  and  without  haying  his 
interest  in  the  story  weakened  by  any  gross  exaggeration  or  improbability,  the  reader,  when 
he  lays  the  book  aside,  will  unconsciously  think  of  the  adage—  "Truth  is  strange—  stranger 

NOTICES  OF  THE  PRESS. 

"THE  LAWYER'S  STORY.—  It  is  written  by  an  eminent  retired  lawyer,  many  of  the  ffccta 
recorded  in  which  came  under  bis  own  observation,  and  the  characters  are  all  drawn  from 
real  life.  The  plot  of  the  story  is  briefly  this  :—  George,  the  Fourth  of  England,  when  the 
Prince  Regent,  gave  Henry  Fitzherbert  an  estate  from  the  Crown  lands.  The  Prince's  right 
to  bestow  lands  were  involved  in  dispute,  and  Fitzherbert  came  to  America,  where  he  died. 
His  two  children,  a  son  and  daughter,  are  the  principals  of  the  story,  and,  after  many  vicis- 
situdes and  trials,  through  the  aid  of  the  American  lawyer,  they  were  finally  placed  in  pos- 
session of  the  estate.  The  details  and  incidents  of  the  story  are  of  thrilling  interest,  although, 
for  obvious  reasons,  In  certain  instances,  names,  dates  and  localities  are  changed  ;  yet  in 
one  or  two  instances  these  are  closely  adhered  to.  The  work  has  received  high  encomiums 
from  literary  gentlemen  and  others,  whose  praise  is  not  lightly  awarded.  The  book  has  been 
published  in  elegant  form,  suitable  for  a  family  library,  and  its  tone  throughout  is  chaste, 
while  the  plot  and  incidents  are  highly  amusing  and  instructive."—  Daily  Palladium. 

uTn*  LAWYER'S  STORY.  —  The  author  is  a  member  of  the  New  York  bar,  and  his  story 
purports  to  be  a  narrative  of  facts.  The  point  of  the  tale  is  the  restoration  of  a  brother  and 
sister,  Americans,  to  their  rightful  heritage  in  England,  against  the  oppositions  and  intrigues 
of  a  powerful  British  nobleman.  The  incidents  possess  muck  interest,  and  are  certainly 
remarkable  'if  true,'  enough  so  to  verify  the  old  saw  that  'truth  is  stranger  than  fiction.'  " 
—Mtchburr  Reveille. 

"THE  LAWYER'S  STORY.—  This  work  is  founded  on  facts,  many  of  which  came  under  the 
author's  personal  knowledge  ;  the  principal  characters  are  drawn  from  real  life  ;  and  the 
interest  of  the  whole  is  well  kept  up  throughout  the  entire  progress  of  the  story.    It  is  pub-  . 
lished  in  elegant  form,  and  its  tone  throughout  is  chaste,  while  the  plot  and  incident*  are  ! 
highly  amusing  and  instructive."—  Daily  Tribune. 


NEW    YORK  t 

H.    LONG    dc    BROTHER, 


fmHithtd  in  ont  volume— oeaut ifully  bound,  price  75  cents.    In  paptr  covert,  prkt » 
Omfc*  matt td  on  rtctnt  of  price,  p«tt  paid,  addretted  at  above. 


A  COMPANION  TO  Tfli  "DIAKY  OF  A  PHYSICIAN." 
DR.  WARREN'S    GREAT  WORK. 


STRAY  LEAVES  FROM   MY  JOURNAL, 

BEING   SKETCHES   OF  THE   MOST   INTERESTING    REMINISCENCES    OF  A  RETIRED    PHYSICIAN, 


THE   OLD   DOCTOB   W   HIS   LIBBYRV. 


Illustrate 


NOTICES     Of=     THE      PRESS.  * 

•*  The  Physician,  more  than  any  other  man,  has  the  opportunity  of  studying  the  human 
mind,  at  times  when  all  false  pretensions  are  thrown  aside.  In  these  sketches,  tne  reader  is 
introduced  to  a  variety  of  characters,  portrayed  under  various  circumstances.  In  health  and 
in  sickness,  in  prosperity  and  in  adversity,—  and  each  character  is  delicately  and  graphically 
portrayed."—  Times. 

tt  A  powerfully  written  work,  decidedly  a  book  for  leisure  reading.  Lively  and  patheito 
by  turns,  and  of  a  character  that  will  secure  it  a  place  on  the  shelves  of  every  choice  library." 
—•Journal, 

«  A  book  that  appeals  to  the  kindest  sympathies  of  the  reader  ;  eminently  calculated  to 
call  forth  all  the  finer  chords  of  feeling  in  favor  of  benevolence  and  universal  philanthropy." 
—  Qaiette. 


NEW  YORK  :  H.  LONG  &  BROTHER,  121  NASSAU  STREET. 


THE  OLD  DOCTOR  is  published  in  one  volumt. 
75  cents — both  editions  beautifully  illustrated. 
paid,}  addressed  as  above. 


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