On December 15, 1775, there was born in Rouen a composer who was to
leave an indelible imprint of his abilities upon the operatic music of
France. At the beginning of his career there was nothing in his
circumstances that could have presaged his future greatness. He was the
son of the secretary of Archbishop Larochefoucauld, and his mother kept
a small millinery store in the old-fashioned city. His parents did not
enjoy perfect conjugal felicity, and finally their quarrels led to a
divorce, soon after which the father married again. The young Boieldieu
was designed for a musical career, and his father soon sent him to the
cathedral as a choir-boy. In those days music was frequently made a
matter of apprenticeship, and was studied almost as if it had been a
handicraft; it is therefore not surprising to find the lad indentured to
the cathedral organist Broche, who led him a sorry life. Those who are
familiar with the early life of Haydn will recall how that composer was
forced for a time to be merely the lackey of Porpora; Boieldieu was in
still worse case, for his master was both a drunkard and a martinet, and
many a corporal punishment was inflicted on the apprentice merely
because of errors in musical exercises. It seems strange that the rough
induction into the art did not cause the lad to hate music and finally
desert it, but, as was the case with Beethoven, the tears of childhood
only seem to have cemented the foundation of his education. Broche made
the curriculum hard and dry enough, and the companions of the lad (“le
petit Boiel” they called him then) added to his discomforts by laughing
at his shyness and awkward ways.
Naturally enough Boieldieu stood in mortal terror of his brutal
taskmaster, and the culmination of his fright came one day when he
accidentally upset an ink bottle on one of Broche’s books; expecting
nothing less than capital punishment for such a heinous crime, the boy
took to his heels, and, at the age of twelve, ran away to Paris. How he
managed to get there without money or assistance is not clearly known,
but he eventually arrived and sought out some relatives who dwelt in the
French metropolis. These gave him shelter, but at the same time notified
his parents, who soon took him back to his musical and menial drudgery.
Nevertheless his condition seems to have been bettered by his escapade,
for Broche was warned to use milder measures with him, and he remained
at his studies with the organist until he was sixteen. During these four
years his taste for operatic music began to awaken, and he was a
constant attendant at the performances in the provincial theatre. As he
had no money he was obliged to resort to all kinds of expedients to
obtain admission, and there are many anecdotes extant of his ingenious
efforts to hear this or that opera without going through the slight
preliminary of paying for his admission. At times he would slip into the
theatre early in the morning, carrying a bundle of music, as if he had
been sent as messenger to some of the orchestra, and then, by hiding
through the day, often without food, he managed to stand through the
performance in the evening, after which he would hurry home well
contented with his good fortune. The operas which he heard at this
period of his career were chiefly those of Grétry or of Mehul, as both
composers were much in vogue at that time, and he was much influenced by
their light and melodious style. It was not long before his ambition was
awakened to an attempt to imitate them and to compose an opera himself.
He was eighteen years old when he accomplished this task. He had sought
in vain for a libretto, and finally had recourse to his father, who gave
him the text for an opera which enjoyed an evanescent success. “La Fille
Coupable” was the name of this Opus 1, which was completed in 1793 and
has now disappeared. One can imagine that the audiences were neither
over-refined or hypercritical in those days of the Reign of Terror, but
a more cultivated era soon followed, and the second opera, which came
two years later, and was entitled “Rosalie et Myrza,” was less favorably
received. Boieldieu was not yet ripe for operatic composition, but at
least these works furthered his career in that they obtained him the
privilege of free entrance to other operatic performances, and thus his
experience and taste were gradually expanded.
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