NOCTURNAL NEGOTIATIONS--REOPENING OF HER MAJESTY'S THEATRE--SAYERS
AND HEENAN PATRONIZE THE OPERA--ENGLISH AND ITALIAN OPERA
COMBINED--SMITH AND HIS SPECULATIONS--DISCOVERY OF ADELINA
PATTI--MY MANAGEMENT OF THE LYCEUM.
EARLY in the spring of 1860 I opened negotiations again with Lord
Dudley, on behalf of Mr. Smith, to obtain the lease of Her Majesty's
Theatre. After spending two days at Witley Court with his lordship I
returned to London with the lease, and loaded with game.
The next step was to secure the services of Mdlle. Titiens, Giuglini,
and others who still were bound to Mr. Lumley; and for that purpose Mr.
Smith and myself started for the Continent. Mr. Lumley met us at
Boulogne; the Channel, as in the previous year, being still too breezy
for him to cross.
On our arrival we found that Mr. Lumley had prepared a sumptuous
banquet. Every kind of expensive wine was on the table, together with
the most famous liqueurs. The Bordeaux, the Burgundy, the Champagne,
the Chartreuse, the Curaçao, and the Cognac were for us; whilst Mr.
Lumley, like a clever diplomatist, confined himself to spring water.
After I had made several attempts to broach the subject of our visit,
which Lumley pretended not to understand, he showed himself quite
astonished when he heard that Mr. Smith contemplated engaging his
artists. To me fell the duty of conducting the negotiations between
these two wily gentlemen; and it was not until about three or four
o'clock the following morning that things began to get into focus. Mr.
Lumley, in the meantime, had kept ordering innumerable syphons and
_fines champagnes_ for Mr. Smith, before whom the bottles were
perpetually empty. As Mr. Smith warmed up, he wanted extensions for the
following autumn, to which Lumley, reluctantly, of course, agreed. In
the end the transfer was to cost some £16,000--I having obtained a
reduction of £3,000 or £4,000 from the original price insisted on by
Lumley. I afterwards had to draw an engagement that would prove
satisfactory to both parties; a matter which was not finally settled
until nearly six o'clock in the morning.
Mr. Smith having observed that he would see to the financial part being
promptly carried out, Mr. Lumley replied that he would prefer to have
bills drawn and handed over to him at once, payable at different dates,
for the whole of the amount. He feared, he said, that some hostile
creditor might attach any moneys in Smith's hands payable to him. Smith
regretted that in France they could not purchase bill stamps, otherwise
he would have been delighted to meet Mr. Lumley's views. Mr. Lumley,
however, in getting a brush from his little hand-bag found some papers
he could not account for, but which had somehow got in there; and these,
to the astonishment of both Lumley and Smith, proved to be bill stamps.
The next thing was to draw the various bills; and Smith remarked before
leaving the banqueting-room that it would be better to finish the
remains of the bottle then before him, lest the hotel servants should do
so and get drunk. Mr. Lumley, instead of going to bed, went back to
Paris by the early morning train, while Smith and myself returned to
London.
The company for the season of 1860 was a marvellously attractive one.
Admirable, too, were the works produced.
Mr. Smith about this time had acquired various restaurants in London,
besides the Alhambra, Cremorne Gardens, Drury Lane, and a variety of
other establishments. The management of the opera was, therefore, left
entirely to me, except that I received occasional visits at the most
unseasonable hours from Mr. Smith, who arrived with the strangest
suggestions. About this time the celebrated fight for the championship
took place between Sayers and Heenan, and as the Covent Garden people
were getting rather ahead of us, Mr. Smith, with a view to increased
receipts, insisted on my announcing that Messrs. Sayers and Heenan, who
had fought the day previously, would attend the opera in their bruised
state. It was with the greatest difficulty that I afterwards got the
announcement withdrawn from the papers. Both men appeared, nevertheless,
that evening--one worse-looking than the other--in a private box which
Smith had prepared specially for them on the grand tier; one corner
being filled with brandies and sodas, and the other with bottles of
champagne. Both men were so fatigued with their business of the previous
day that before the end of the first act they went home, much to my
relief.
Shortly afterwards Smith proposed that the Champion's belt (which had
been divided in two) should be presented on the stage between the acts
of the opera. This, too, I overruled, and the ceremony ultimately took
place at the Alhambra.
On another occasion Mr. Smith suggested to me an idea that had occurred
to him for closing up Covent Garden, by giving a grand double
performance of _Il Trovatore_ without any increase of prices. He
proposed dividing the stage into two floors, as in the opera of _Aida_,
with the occupants as follows:--
Top floor. Bottom floor.
"Manrico" ... Mongini ... Giuglini.
"Conte di Luna" ... Aldighieri ... Everardi.
"Azucena" ... Alboni ... Borghi-Mamo.
"Leonora" ... Grisi ... Titiens.
The singers were alarmed, as the matter became serious. This project,
however, like previous ones, I ultimately succeeded in setting aside. I
pleaded that the preparations for the production of Oberon, now resolved
upon, needed all my attention. Benedict, the favourite pupil of Weber,
had undertaken to adapt the famous opera for the Italian stage by
introducing recitative and excerpts from some of Weber's other works,
whilst Planché, the author of the libretto, undertook the _mise en
scène_. A really grand performance took place, with the following cast
of characters:--
"Sir Huon," Mongini; "Scerasmin," Everardi; "Oberon,"
Belart; "Fatima," Alboni; "Rezia," Titiens.
Despite the artistic successes of the season, matters, as usual with
operatic managers, did not go well in a financial sense. This, in a
great measure, was to be accounted for by the drain on our exchequer
caused by Mr. Smith's numerous outside speculations; for the receipts
from the various establishments were all lumped into one banking
account.
On one occasion I recollect having a deal of difficulty with the
Sheriff's officers, who had got possession of the wardrobes. We were on
the point of producing the _Huguenots_, and the whole of the dresses for
that opera were under ban. One afternoon Smith came in; and after some
little time it appeared that the officers had agreed not to take the
_Huguenots_ until we had had two performances out of it.
In fact, there was always some trouble going on, and it was with the
greatest difficulty that we got through the season.
In the Boulogne contracts Lumley's artists were ceded not only for a
summer, but also for an autumn season at Her Majesty's. As, however,
they were to sing but three times a week, it occurred to me that English
opera might be tried with advantage on the alternate nights.
Arrangements were accordingly entered into, through the kindness of Mr.
Thomas Chappell, with Mrs. L. Sherrington, Mr. Sims Reeves, and Mr.
Santley. Charles Hallé was at the same time engaged as conductor.
Negotiations were also entered into with Macfarren for the production of
an English work entitled _Robin Hood_, the libretto by Oxenford. The
opera met with very great success, so much so that the chief attentions
of the public were directed to the evenings on which _Robin Hood_ was
performed. I then opened negotiations with Vincent Wallace to prepare an
opera to follow, entitled the _Amber Witch_, libretto by Chorley, in
which Mr. Sims Reeves, Mrs. L. Sherrington, Santley, Patey, and others
appeared.
But again the war cloud seemed to hover over the establishment, and
again the Sheriff's officers appeared in force. It was thought advisable
to transfer the _Amber Witch_ to Drury Lane, leaving the myrmidons of
the law in possession of the theatre and its belongings. The _Amber
Witch_ wardrobe (which somehow had fallen off the portico of the theatre
early one Sunday morning) found its way to the other theatre. Here the
part of the "Amber Witch" was undertaken by Madame Parepa, _vice_
Sherrington.
* * * * *
Mr. Edward Tyrrel Smith, with whom I had business relations for some
three or four years, was an extraordinary personage, whose like could
only be met with in our own time, and in such capitals as London or
Paris, where the population in general has certainly not the faintest
idea how some small part of that population lives. Mr. E. T. Smith had
made up his mind early in life to be the possessor, or at least the
handler, of considerable sums of money; and he at one time found it
worth his while, so as never to be without funds, to hire daily, at the
rate of £1 a day, a thousand-pound note, which was obligingly entrusted
to him by a money-lender of the period, one Sam Genese.
There are not many persons to whom such a loan would be worth the
thirty-six and a half per cent. interest which Mr. E. T. Smith paid for
it. He was an adept, however, at all kinds of business, and his
thousand-pound note enabled him to make purchases on credit, which,
without deposit money, he would have been unable to effect. Attending
sales he would buy whatever happened to suit him, with a view to
immediate resale, offering his thousand-pound note as a deposit, to
discover, as a matter of course, that it could not be changed, and have
the article for which he had bid marked down to him all the same. Then
he would resell it, and pocket the difference.
The mere exhibition of the thousand-pound note secured him a certain
amount of credit, and he was not likely ever to meet with an auctioneer
able to change it. Before offering his (or rather Mr. Genese's) note he
took care to write his name on the back of it. Afterwards his usurious
friend would replace the note that had been endorsed by a brand new one,
and occasions presented themselves in which it was a distinct advantage
for E. T. Smith to be known as a gentleman who, in the course of a
comparatively short space of time, had inscribed his name on several
bank-notes, each for a thousand pounds.
Once, when St. Dunstan's Villa, in the Regent's Park, was knocked down
to Smith for ten thousand pounds, the thousand-pound note which he had,
as usual, in his waistcoat pocket was just what was wanted to satisfy
the auctioneer's immediate demands. Smith handed up the note with the
observation that he would turn the place into a second Cremorne Gardens,
in which character it could not fail to attract thousands of people and
bring in lots of money. At this announcement the auctioneer drew back
and informed the apparently eager purchaser that the house could be
converted to no such purpose.
One day, when I had run down to Brighton with Mr. Smith, then associated
with me in the management of Drury Lane, we missed, by about half a
minute, the return train we had intended to catch; and we had now two
hours to wait. Smith could not remain idle, and strolling with me along
the Parade his attention was attracted by a corner house which was for
sale, and which, it at once struck him, might be turned to profitable
account as a milliner's shop. He inquired as to the rent and other
conditions, bought the house there and then, and at once ordered that
the windows on the ground floor should be replaced by much larger ones
of plate glass.
That night he started for Paris, and in the Passage du Saumon, where
bonnets of almost the latest fashion can be purchased for moderate
prices, laid in a stock of millinery for his Brighton "_magasin des
modes_." While making his purchases in Paris he secured the services of
two eligible young women, who were brought over to direct the Brighton
establishment. This, within a very short time, he duly opened under the
name of "Clémentine," and the house of Clémentine did such good business
that a few weeks afterwards its spirited proprietor was able to sell it
at seven hundred pounds' profit.
On the occasion of a melancholy event which compelled all the London
managers to close their theatres, Mr. E. T. Smith saw in this day of
national gloom a tempting opportunity for a masked ball. It was to be
given at Her Majesty's Theatre, and earnestly as I sought to divert him
from his project he insisted on carrying it out. I had no right of veto
in the matter, and the masked ball took place. The sum of one guinea
entitled a ticket-holder to entrance and supper, and a day or two before
the entertainment fires were lighted in the property-room, the
painting-room, and the wardrobes, in order to cook some hundreds of
fowls which had been purchased in the market, after ordinary market
hours, at a very cheap rate.
Wine would be an extra charge. In order to suit the tastes of
connoisseurs, Mr. Smith made large purchases of Heidsieck, Pommery
Greno, Perrier Jouet, and other favourite brands somewhere in
Whitechapel, where they can be secured at a much less cost than at
Epernay or Rheims. When the wine came in he showed it to me with a look
of pride, and opened a bottle of someone's _cuvée réservée_ in order to
have my opinion. I told him frankly that the bottles, labels, and the
names branded on the corks seemed all that could be desired, and that I
found nothing bad except the wine. This he seemed to look upon as an
unimportant detail, and the Whitechapel champagne was sold to infatuated
dancers at ten and twelve shillings a bottle.
About this time I chanced to hear of an extraordinary young vocalist,
who had been charming the Americans, and, although hardly nineteen,
seemed to have obtained a firm hold on the sympathy and admiration of
their public. I opened negotiations at once, in order to secure her
services for the forthcoming season at Her Majesty's, and a contract was
duly entered into on behalf of Mr. Smith, whereby the little lady
undertook to sing four nights on approval, when, in case of success, she
was to have a salary of £10 a week. I likewise concluded an engagement
with Mario, whose term had expired at Covent Garden, and with Madame
Grisi; while Costa undertook to join the following year on the
expiration of his existing contract with Mr. Gye.
In fact, all looked very promising for the year 1861. But, as the time
approached, I found more difficulty than ever in communicating with Mr.
Smith, who seemed to be out of the way. I then accidentally learned that
owing to the extreme financial difficulty in which he was placed through
his numerous outside speculations he had been compelled to accept an
offer from Mr. Gye of £4,000 on condition of his not opening.
In accordance with this arrangement Her Majesty's Theatre remained
closed.
Some time in the month of April the little lady from America arrived and
sent me up her card, bearing the name of Adelina Patti. She was
accompanied by Maurice Strakosch, her brother-in-law. They wished to
know when Mr. Smith's season was likely to begin. I could give them no
information beyond the current report which they had already heard
themselves. The little lady, who was then seated on a sofa at the
Arundel Hotel, at the bottom of Norfolk Street, Strand, suggested that I
should try the speculation myself, as she felt sure she would draw
money. I thereupon asked her to let me hear her, that I might judge as
to the quality of her voice, to which she responded by singing "Home,
Sweet Home." I saw that I had secured a diamond of the first water, and
immediately set about endeavouring to get Her Majesty's Theatre. But
this was a hopeless business, as Smith, who still held the lease, was
nowhere to be found. Shortly afterwards, however, I met Smith by chance,
and proposed renting Drury Lane from him, without saying what for.
Two days later he brought me an agreement which he requested me to sign.
I said that I should like first to glance over it. He pointed out to me
that I might give operas, dramas, pantomimes, ballets, in fact
everything; and that I should have no difficulty in making a very fine
season. But on the top of the page overleaf my eye caught sight of a
parenthesis, within which were the words "Italian Opera excepted." I
thereupon put down the pen, raised some question about the deposit, and
afterwards kept clear of Mr. Smith.
But many years after he had ceased to be connected with theatres I one
day received a letter from him, in which he told me he was in the metal
trade, and asked me to send him a couple of stalls for himself and his
"old woman." The heading of the letter announced the character of his
new business, and he added in a postscript: "Do you ever want any tin?"
Nothing now remained but to secure the Lyceum; the only other theatre
available. This I did. It having been occupied but two or three years
previously by the Royal Italian Opera, I considered the locale would be
perfectly suited for my purpose. I thereupon started off to Paris to
find Mr. Lumley, from whom I now wished to secure for myself the singers
still engaged to him. Mr. Lumley had unfortunately left for Marseilles.
I myself started for Marseilles, but in passing Avignon I thought I saw
black whiskers in the passing train resembling those of Mr. Lumley. But
I was not sure. I therefore continued my journey.
"Mr. Lumley, est parti," I was told on my arrival. I returned to Paris,
and was informed that he had gone to England, which I knew was not
possible, except on a Sunday. This being Saturday, I determined to stop
at Boulogne and make inquiries; and in the same hotel where I had
conducted the negotiations some two or three years previously I found
him. I soon completed my arrangements, undertaking to give him half my
total gross nightly receipts in exchange for Titiens and Giuglini. I
undertook to provide the whole of the expenses, with Alboni, Patti, and
others among my other singers. I returned joyfully to London, and at
once went to the Arundel Hotel to inform Miss Patti and Strakosch of my
good luck. They did not seem overjoyed, or in any way to participate in
my exuberant delight.
Maurice Strakosch told me that as their last £5 note had been spent he
had been obliged to borrow £50 of Mr. Gye, which intelligence at once
reduced my height by at least two inches; and after a deal of difficulty
I ascertained that he had signed a receipt for the said loan in a form
which really constituted an engagement for the Royal Italian Opera,
Covent Garden.
In short, I found myself manager of the Lyceum Theatre, with an
expensive Company, and with Mdlle. Patti opposed to me in the immediate
vicinity at Covent Garden.
My season opened at the Lyceum on Saturday, the 8th June, 1861, the
opera being _Il Trovatore_, "Manrico," Signor Giuglini; "Il Conte di
Luna," Signor delle Sedie, the eminent baritone, who made his first
appearance in England; "Ferrando," Signor Gassier; whilst "Azucena" was
Mdme. Alboni, and "Leonora," Mdlle. Titiens; Arditi conducting the
orchestra, which was composed of the members of the Philharmonic Society
and Her Majesty's private band. On the second night I gave _Lucrezia
Borgia_, with Giuglini, Gassier, Alboni, and Titiens in leading parts.
In the meanwhile I placed Verdi's new opera, _Un Ballo in Maschera_, in
rehearsal in order that I might have the honour of representing it for
the first time in this country; and by dint of almost superhuman effort
on the part of Arditi and the principal artists, I produced it some few
days before Covent Garden, although it had been in rehearsal there for
over six weeks. I well recollect how, after a fatiguing performance of
such an opera as _Les Huguenots_, _Lucrezia Borgia_, or _Norma_, Mdlle.
Titiens, Giuglini, and other artists would go in the direction of Eaton
Square to take supper with Signor Arditi, and at about half-past one in
the morning begin rehearsing. The rehearsals terminated, the full blaze
of the sun would accompany us on our way home to bed. This was done
night after night.
But our efforts were rewarded by the immense success the opera achieved
at its first performance.
During the first weeks of my management I had a strong
counter-attraction operating against me in the shape of a large fire
raging in Tooley Street, which it seemed to be the fashionable thing to
go and see. Thousands attended it every evening.
Before the close of the season I gave a grand combined performance
composed of excerpts from various operas--a kind of representation never
popular with the British public; but, this being the last night of my
season, the house was crowded from top to bottom. During the evening the
choristers had banded together, threatening to refuse their services
unless I complied with an exorbitant claim which I considered they had
no right to make.
Prior to the curtain rising for the final section of the
performance--the entire fourth act of the _Huguenots_--I was sent for.
All reasoning with the chorus singers was useless. I therefore left the
room, telling them to remain until I returned, which they promised to
do. I then instructed Mdlle. Titiens and Giuglini that the
"Conspirators' Chorus" ("Bénédiction des Poignards") would be left out,
and that the act must commence, as it was now very late, with the entry
of "Raoul" and "Valentine" for the grand duet, whereby I dispensed with
the services of the chorus altogether.
No sooner did they hear that the opera was proceeding than they one and
all surrendered. I, however, had the pleasure of telling them that I
should never require one of them again--and I never did.
This really was the origin, now common at both Opera-houses, of the
introduction of choristers from Italy. I may mention that the members of
my refractory chorus were people who had been some thirty or forty
years, or even longer, at the Opera-houses and other theatres in London,
and it was really an excellent opportunity for dispensing with their
services.
At the close of the opera season, on balancing my accounts, I found
myself a loser of some £1,800. Thereupon, I resolved to carry on the
Opera again in a larger locale next year in order that I might get
straight; vowing, as the Monte Carlo gambler constantly does, that as
soon as I got quite straight I would stop, and never play again. I have
been endeavouring during the last thirty years to get straight, and
still hope to do so.