Before Napoleon became First Consul, he had been on familiar terms with
Cherubini. The soldier and the composer were seated in the same box
listening to an opera by the latter. Napoleon, whose tastes for music
were for the suave and sensuous Italian style, turned to him and said:
"My dear Cherubini, you are certainly an excellent musician; but really
your music is so noisy and complicated that I can make nothing of it;"
to which Cherubini replied: "My dear general, you are certainly an
excellent soldier; but in regard to music you must excuse me if I
don't think it necessary to adapt my music to your comprehension." This
haughty reply was the beginning of an estrangement. Another illustration
of Cherubini's sturdy pride and dignity was his rejoinder to Napoleon,
when the latter was praising the works of the Italian composers, and
covertly sneering at his own. "Citizen General," he replied, "occupy
yourself with battles and victories, and allow me to treat according to
my talent an art of which you are grossly ignorant." Even when Napoleon
became Emperor, the proud composer never learned "to crook the pregnant
hinges of his knee" to the man before whom Europe trembled.
On the 12th of December, 1800, a grand performance of "The Creation"
took place at Paris. Napoleon on his way to it narrowly escaped being
killed by an infernal machine. Cherubini was one of the deputation,
representing the various corporations and societies of Paris, who waited
on the First Consul to congratulate him upon his escape. Cherubini kept
in the background, when the sarcasm, "I do not see Monsieur Cherubini,"
pronounced in the French way, as if to indicate that Cherubini was not
worthy of being ranked with the Italian composers, brought him promptly
forward. "Well," said Napoleon, "the French are in Italy." "Where would
they not go," answered Cherubini, "led by such a hero as you?" This
pleased the First Consul, who, however, soon got to the old musical
quarrel. "I tell you I like Paisiello's music immensely; it is soft and
tranquil. You have much talent, but there is too much accompaniment."
Said Cherubini, "Citizen Consul, I conform myself to French taste."
"Your music," continued the other, "makes too much noise. Speak to me
in that of Paisiello; that is what lulls me gently." "I understand,"
replied the composer; "you like music which doesn't stop you from
thinking of state affairs." This witty rejoinder made the arrogant
soldier frown, and the talk suddenly ceased.
As a result of this alienation Cherubini found himself persistently
ignored and ill-treated by the First Consul. In spite of his having
produced such great masterpieces, his income was very small, apart from
his pay as Inspector of the Conservatory. The ill will of the ruler of
France was a steady check to his preferment. When Napoleon established
his consular chapel in 1802, he invited Paisiello from Naples to become
director at a salary of 12,000 francs a year. It gave great umbrage to
the Conservatory that its famous teachers should have been slighted for
an Italian foreigner, and musical circles in Paris were shaken by petty
contentions. Paisiello, however, found the public indifferent to his
works, and soon wearied of a place where the admiration to which he had
been accustomed no longer flattered his complacency. He resigned, and
his position was offered to Méhul, who is said to have declined it
because he regarded Cherubini as far more worthy of it, and to have
accepted it only on condition that his friend could share the duties and
emoluments with him. Cherubini, fretted and irritated by his condition,
retired for a time from the pursuit of his art, and devoted himself to
flowers. The opera of "Anacreon," a powerful but unequal work, which
reflected the disturbance and agitation of his mind, was the sole fruit
of his musical efforts for about four years.
While Cherubini was in the deepest depression--for he had a large
family depending on him and small means with which to support them--a
ray of sunshine came in 1805 in the shape of an invitation to compose
for the managers of the opera at Vienna. His advent at the Austrian
capital produced a profound sensation, and he received a right royal
welcome from the great musicians of Germany. The aged Haydn, Hummel,
and Beethoven became his warm friends with the generous freemasonry of
genius, for his rank as a musician was recognized throughout Europe.
The war which broke out after our musician's departure from Paris
between France and Austria ended shortly in the capitulation of Ulm,
and the French Emperor took up his residence at Schônbrunn. Napoleon
received Cherubini kindly when he came in answer to his summons, and
it was arranged that a series of twelve concerts should be given
alternately at Schonbrunn and Vienna. The pettiness which entered into
the French Emperor's nature in spite of his greatness continued to be
shown in his ebullitions of wrath because Cherubini persisted in holding
his own musical views against the imperial opinion. Napoleon, however,
on the eve of his return to France, urged him to accompany him, offering
the long-coveted position of musical director; but Cherubini was under
contract to remain a certain length of time at Vienna, and he would not
break his pledge.
The winter of 1805 witnessed two remarkable musical events at the
Austrian capital, the production of Beethoven's "Fidelio" and the last
great opera written by Cherubini, "Faniska." Haydn and Beethoven were
both present at the latter performance. The former embraced Cherubini
and said to him, "You are my son, worthy of my love." Beethoven
cordially hailed him as "the first dramatic composer of the age." It is
an interesting fact that two such important dramatic compositions should
have been written at the same time, independently of each other; that
both works should have been in advance of their age; that they should
have displayed a striking similarity of style; and that both should
have suffered from the reproach of the music being too learned for the
public. The opera of "Faniska" is based on a Polish legend of great
dramatic beauty, which, however, was not very artistically treated
by the librettist. Mendelssohn in after years noted the striking
resemblance between Beethoven and our composer in the conception
and method of dramatic composition. In one of his letters to Edouard
Devrient he says, speaking of "Fidelio": "On looking into the score,
as well as on listening to the performance, I everywhere perceive
Cherubim's dramatic style of composition. It is true that Beethoven did
not ape that style, but it was before his mind as his most cherished
pattern." The unity of idea and musical color between "Faniska" and
"Fidelio" seems to have been noted by many critics both of contemporary
and succeeding times.
Cherubini would gladly have written more for the Viennese, by whom
he had been so cordially treated; but the unsettled times and his
homesickness for Paris conspired to take him back to the city of his
adoption. He exhausted many efforts to find Mozart's tomb in Vienna, and
desired to place a monument over his neglected remains, but failed to
locate the resting-place of one he loved so much. Haydn, Beethoven,
Hummel, Salieri, and the other leading composers reluctantly parted
with him, and on April 1, 1806, his return to Paris was celebrated by
a brilliant fête improvised for him at the Conservatory. Fate, however,
had not done with her persecutions, for fate in France took the shape of
Napoleon, whose hostility, easily aroused, was implacable; who aspired
to rule the arts and letters as he did armies and state policy; who
spared neither Cherubini nor Madame de Staël. Cherubini was neglected
and insulted by authority, while honors were showered on Méhul, Grétry,
Spontini, and Lesueur. He sank into a state of profound depression, and
it was even reported in Vienna that he was dead. He forsook music and
devoted himself to drawing and botany. Had he not been a great musician,
it is probable he would have excelled in pictorial art. One day the
great painter David entered the room where he was working in crayon on a
landscape of the Salvator Rosa style. So pleased was the painter that he
cried, "Truly admirable! Courage!" In 1808 Cherubini found complete
rest in a visit to the country-seat of the Prince de Chimay in Belgium,
whither he was accompanied by his friend and pupil Auber.