PROPOSAL FOR AN OPERATIC UNION--TITIENS IN DUBLIN--HER SERVICES AS
A PACIFICATOR--AUTUMN SEASON AT COVENT GARDEN--THE COMBINATION
SEASON--IMMENSE SUCCESS--COSTA'S DESPOTISM--AN OPERATIC
CONSPIRACY--LUCCA AND HER HUSBANDS.
DURING my successful Drury Lane season, in the month of June, 1868, a
letter addressed to me was left by an unknown person in the hall. The
superscription on the envelope was in a disguised hand, but the letter
enclosed was in the writing of Mr. Gye.
The manager of the Royal Italian Opera proposed a coalition with the
manager of Her Majesty's Theatre, and Mr. Gye suggested a personal
interview on the subject. Here, however, is his letter:--
[COPY.]
"Springfield House,
"Wandsworth Road,
"June 19th, 1868.
"DEAR MR. MAPLESON,
"The last time you were over here I believe we were pretty well agreed
that our interests lay rather in the combination of the two operas than
in fighting one another. As we shall both of us be making our
engagements for the next year, if anything is to be arranged between us
it is time it were thought about. I should be very glad to see you on
the subject if you still remain in the same mind as when I saw you last.
It would perhaps be well if we did not meet either at Drury Lane or at
Covent Garden. Would you mind coming over here, or would you prefer our
meeting somewhere in town? This matter, for obvious reasons, had better
remain strictly _between ourselves_ for the present.
"Yours very truly,
"(Signed) FREDERICK GYE.
"James Mapleson, Esq."
* * * * *
When I met Mr. Gye by appointment his first proposition was that we
should work together at either of the two theatres, the other one being
kept closed; and that I should take a quarter of the profits.
I suggested, as a more equitable adjustment, an equal division of
profits; and to that Mr. Gye at last agreed.
Articles of partnership were then drawn up binding us to remain together
for three years on the basis of half profits, and our agreement was to
be kept secret for the next six months.
At the close of my engagement at Dublin, in the beginning of October,
1868, a great demonstration took place in honour of Mdlle. Titiens, it
being the last night of the season. Weber's opera of _Oberon_ was
performed, and after Titiens had sung the exacting air of the third act,
"Ocean, thou Mighty Monster," a most animated scene took place, many
requiring the great air to be repeated, whilst others called out the
names of different Irish songs. The uproar lasted upwards of fifteen
minutes before silence could be restored, when it was decided that "The
Last Rose of Summer" should be given.
But the orchestra had no music and the conductor would not venture a
performance without it. Further delay and further uproar took place,
until at length Signor Bettini, who had undertaken the _rôle_ of
"Oberon," came from the wing, pulling on a cottage piano, whilst Titiens
helped the conductor to get out of the orchestra in order to accompany
her. As Bettini was turning the piano round, in consequence of the slope
of the stage it fell right over, causing an immense cheer from the gods,
when no less than five demons (who were to appear in the next scene of
_Oberon_) rushed from the wings to raise it up again on its legs. At
length order was restored, and such was the silence that when Mdlle.
Titiens was on the point of beginning the beautiful air I remember
taking a pin from my collar and dropping it on the stage in order to
give a practical and effective illustration of the old saying that you
"could hear a pin drop."
No sooner had the singer finished the last verse than a roar of
admiration was heard, so loud, so overpowering, that I can only compare
it to the belching forth of huge pieces of artillery. At the close of
the opera a great crowd, composed of the public and the medical students
who habitually occupy the gallery (always without their coats, sometimes
without their waistcoats, occasionally without their shirts), was
awaiting the Queen of Song's departure. They had actually cut the traces
of her carriage, and from a ship chandler's opposite had got two long
coils of rope which they fastened to the vehicle. Titiens shortly
afterwards appeared, amidst deafening cheers, and the procession
started. No less than a dozen of the singer's most enthusiastic admirers
were on the roof letting off fireworks. All went on in something like
order until with our two long strings of volunteer horses we arrived at
Dawson Street, when, in consequence of no previous arrangement having
been made, one half of the team went up Dawson Street and the other half
down Nassau Street, the result being a violent collision against
Morrison's Hotel. It was not without considerable difficulty and delay
that things could be readjusted.
On our arriving at Shelbourne Hotel the police found themselves
powerless to cope with the multitude. But we had been accompanied by a
young man, who, standing on the carriage step, had repeatedly addressed
Mdlle. Titiens both in German and in French, telling her that she had
"nothing to fear." On arriving at the door of the Shelbourne he gave a
shrill whistle as a call for volunteer special constables, when a
passage was at once cleared. It being a wet night the enthusiasts around
us made a carpet for Titiens to walk on by throwing their coats on to
the pavement. The crowd remained opposite the hotel for over an hour,
during which time repeated calls were made for a song. But the gas of
Mdlle. Titiens's sitting-room had been turned low, and the blinds being
drawn down she hoped it might appear that she had retired for the night.
Shortly afterwards, however, a deputation came up accompanied by one of
the chief constables, stating that if madame could not disperse the
crowd the consequences would be very serious, as it refused to move. She
at last felt compelled to go to the window of her hotel, when, after
entreating for silence, she addressed the crowd in these words: "I will
sing you 'The Last Rose of Summer' provided you promise to go home
immediately afterwards like mice."
And sure enough they did, for at the conclusion of the song the crowd
melted away in dead silence, not one person being left.
The inspector afterwards remarked to Mdlle. Titiens that if ever a
revolution broke out in Ireland they would send over for her to quell
it.
During the stay of my Opera Company at Dublin I allowed some of the
principal artists to sing in various churches for charitable purposes.
Mdlle. Titiens's services were sought for far and wide, and she was
always ready to devote her Sunday, which was the only day of rest she
had during the week, to the cause of charity. On one occasion I
recollect her singing in a poor neighbourhood near Thomas Street, when
many persons actually stooped to kiss the ground where she had trodden.
She was held in the highest esteem by the clergy.
One Saturday evening, after the termination of the opera, several of my
Italian choristers were wending their way home when they were accosted
by some rowdy, good-natured Irishmen, who insisted upon having a drink
with them. They, not comprehending the language, thought the men were
robbers, and placed themselves in a position of defence, whereupon they
were boldly attacked by the sons of Erin, and a free fight ensued, in
which some two or three Irishmen got stabbed. About noon the following
day it was notified to me that some four or five of my choristers were
in prison on account of this serious affair, and would be kept there
until the wounded men, who were then in hospital, were sufficiently
recovered to appear against them. I at once sought Mdlle. Titiens's aid,
who went with me to one of the priests, with whom we afterwards visited
the prison where our choristers were. They insisted that it was only a
small affair, and that they had defended themselves against their
aggressors.
They seemed also in great distress because the police authorities had
taken away their week's salary which they had in their pockets, together
with such pieces of jewellery or keys they had about them. By the advice
of the priest we afterwards visited the hospital, and I, accompanied by
the surgeon, inspected their wounds, which were triangular, as if caused
by an Italian stiletto.
My clerical friend was very kind, and after a deal of whispering with
the hospital surgeons, and afterwards with the wounded men themselves,
he stated that they might have done it in accidentally falling down, but
that it was not their intention to appear against the choristers, who
were afterwards bailed out by Mdlle. Titiens. They duly appeared the
next morning at the police-court and were dismissed, no one appearing
against them.
I omitted to inform the reader that on the conclusion of the partnership
agreement with Mr. Gye, which was to be kept a secret for the next six
months, I rented the Royal Italian Opera for the autumn of 1868 for this
double reason: first, that Her Majesty's Theatre was in ashes, and that
I had no place wherein to give my autumn performances; and secondly,
that my being seen about Covent Garden would in that case cause no
surprise, whilst it would enable me occasionally to meet Mr. Gye in
order to discuss our coming arrangements.
During my autumn season at Covent Garden I discovered Mdlle. Scalchi,
the eminent contralto--then singing at a building which had been a
circus. Struck with the lovely quality of her voice I engaged her for
five years, events fully confirming my judgment on that occasion. About
this time I first brought to this country Miss Minnie Hauk, a young
singer about 18 years of age. She made her _début_ at Covent Garden as
"Amina" in _La Sonnambula_, her next part being that of "Cherubino" in
Mozart's _Nozze di Figaro_.
After due discussion with Mr. Gye it was decided that our joint
enterprise should be carried on at the Royal Italian Opera pending the
rebuilding of my new theatre.
As the time for opening the season approached Mr. Gye suggested that we
should ourselves make all engagements with the orchestra, instead of
leaving that duty, as heretofore at the Royal Italian Opera, to Mr.
Costa. This famous conductor was a despot, not only in the musical
direction of his orchestra, but in other ways. He made his own
engagements, and, leaving, of course, the manager to pay the appointed
salaries, took care to be always present on pay day; when, in the case
of any short-coming on the part of a musician, he would stop a portion
of the salary payable to him, if not the whole amount. It was his custom
to arrive at the theatre half-an-hour before the time fixed for the
beginning of the evening's performance. He then took up a position as if
of inspection, and, as he sat on the stage, the players passed him one
by one as if in order of review. I remember on one occasion a young
violinist arriving with mud on his boots, and in a frock coat. Costa
pulled him up short, and asked him how he could venture to present
himself in such a condition. The musician replied that he had just
arrived from the Crystal Palace, and had not had time to make his
toilet.
"Go home instantly," said Costa, "and come back with clean boots and in
evening dress."
By the time the violinist (who lived in some distant suburb) got back
the second act of the opera was nearly over; and when on pay-day the
offender presented himself for his monthly salary he was informed that
by reason of his absence on the occasion in question one week's salary
was stopped. This sort of treatment the musicians had to put up with,
or, as the only alternative, to accept their dismissal, which really
meant the loss of the provincial festivals and of the Sacred Harmonic
Society.
It must be added in favour of Costa's despotic ways that he never
allowed any musician that he had engaged to be replaced by a substitute,
even at rehearsal; a practice which in orchestras less severely governed
has become only too frequent, to the great detriment of the
performances.
Costa, meanwhile, by mere force of will, had gained so much authority at
the Royal Italian Opera that the manager feared him, and was most
anxious to be rid alike of his services and of his tyranny.
When it was intimated to Costa that the joint managers proposed to
reserve to themselves the right of making direct engagements with the
musicians for the orchestra, he would not hear of such an arrangement,
and, much to Mr. Gye's satisfaction, resigned his post.
In view of the new works we proposed to give, and of the large number of
rehearsals that would be required, two conductors were now engaged,
Arditi and Vianesi.
Long before the theatre opened we had abundant signs of a prosperous
season, and as the event drew near money poured in from various sources.
We received in private subscriptions as much as £12,000. The
booksellers' subscriptions amounted to £29,000 more, and in the course
of the season the box-office sales alone brought in another £29,000.
Altogether, counting profits from the Floral Hall concerts and sums
received for the services of singers at public as well as private
concerts, we received during the season of 1869 a grand total of
£80,000.
On the other hand, we paid away in artists' salaries £22,000; for
working expenses (including chorus), £13,000; orchestra, £7,500; sundry
charges, £2,000.
Our whole expenditure came to £44,000, leaving us a clear profit of
about £36,000.
Out of my half-share of this profit I had to pay for insurance and poor
rates £3,000. Against this Mr. Gye put the use of the theatre, which was
his property.
By our articles of partnership Mr. Gye had stipulated that he should
"take no part in the management of the theatre unless he wished to do
so." This wish came upon him after about a fortnight.
Our success during this season proved that though two rival Italian
Operas can scarcely be carried on without loss on both sides, one
Italian Opera can be made the source of very considerable profit. Even,
however, with a monopoly there are two things essential to success. The
operatic manager who would prosper must appeal to the public with a very
strong Company, and with new works. Such casts as we secured for some of
the recognized masterpieces of dramatic music could not fail to fill the
theatre.
Among the new works or revivals produced at the Royal Italian Opera
during the season of 1869 may be mentioned: Fidelio, The Magic Flute,
Robert le Diable, Cherubini's Medea, Hamlet (first time in England),
with Nilsson as "Ophelia," and Don Bucefalo (also first time in
England). Medea had before been given at my own establishment with
Mdlle. Titiens in the tragic part of the heroine. In Le Prophète,
Titiens and Mongini appeared together, Titiens, of course, as "Fidès,"
Mongini as "John of Leyden." Don Giovanni was played with Titiens as
"Donna Anna," Nilsson as "Donna Elvira," and Patti as "Zerlina;" while
the part of the dissolute hero was taken by Faure, and that of "Don
Ottavio" by Mario.
About this time the secret oozed out that Mr. Jarrett, who had come with
me from Her Majesty's Theatre to the Royal Italian Opera, had made
engagements with Mongini, Ilma de Murska, Trebelli, Christine Nilsson,
Santley, Foli, Faure, and Arditi. Mr. Jarrett, who in after years became
known as the agent of Mdme. Nilsson, and especially of Mdlle. Sarah
Bernhardt, held at that time a post with vague duties attached to it at
the Royal Italian Opera, as previously at Her Majesty's Theatre, which
during the combination season of 1869 was being rebuilt. Jarrett also
acted as agent to Mongini, Ilma de Murska, Trebelli, and Bettini--Mdme.
Trebelli's husband. Many years before he had been in partnership with
Mr. George Wood, representing the firm of Cramer and Co., the well-known
music publishers, for the direction of an Opera Company, and had been
left by his associate in the lurch, Mr. Jarrett being called upon to
meet single-handed liabilities which would have been far too much even
for the partners combined.
Nor was Jarrett particularly well disposed towards the manager of the
Royal Italian Opera, in whose orchestra he had once played the horn, and
who in one of those orchestral strikes so common in the history of
Opera-houses had taken a leading part as against the manager. Mr. Gye
had thereupon dismissed him; and he now objected to have in his
employment an agent receiving percentage on the salaries of his
singers.
If, then, in the opposition he proposed to organize against the Royal
Italian Opera Jarrett injured Mr. Gye, he would not be sorry; while if
as a result of a failure at Drury Lane he injured Mr. Wood, he would be
very glad. Naturally, however, he worked chiefly with a view to his own
success.
Whether Wood mistrusted Jarrett, or whether after entering into
partnership with him he mistrusted the success of the project, can never
be decided; but it is certain that after securing Drury Lane Theatre for
an operatic campaign, Mr. Wood repented of what he had done, and,
unknown to Jarrett, entered into negotiations with Mr. Gye.
The advantages of an operatic monopoly were too obvious for Mr. Gye not
to be anxious once more to secure it. This he was prepared to do, even
at a considerable sacrifice; only it was I, his associate, not he
himself, who was to make it. He proposed to me that Mr. George Wood
should be taken into partnership, and that the profits for the season
should be thus divided: Half to Gye, one quarter to Mapleson, one
quarter to Wood. Mr. Gye was ready at that time to take in any number of
partners who seemed in a position to threaten his justly-cherished
monopoly, provided always that their share in the profits came to them
out of my half, not out of his. For me the smallest fraction was deemed
sufficient; he himself, however, could accept nothing less than a clear
moiety.
After some amusing negotiations between Mr. Gye and myself, it was
arranged that Mr. Wood should be taken into the concern on a basis of
equal shares. Each, that is to say, was to receive one-third of the
profits. The seceding artists, whose services we could not wish to
lose--apart from the effect they might have in creating against us a
formidable opposition--had all signed with Mr. Wood; and by the new
arrangement these vocalists (Christine Nilsson, Mongini, Ilma de Murska,
Trebelli, Faure, Santley, etc., with Arditi) were all to form part of
the Royal Italian Opera Company. Our profits would still be large,
though both Gye and myself would have to cede a portion of our gains to
the new-comer.
Mr. Gye, Mr. Wood, and myself were all seated round a table in Mr. Gye's
private room at Covent Garden Theatre, on the point of signing the
contract which was to bind us together for the season of 1870, when
suddenly a gentle tap at the door was heard, and, like "Edgardo" in the
contract scene of _Lucia_, Jarrett appeared. He had, as he afterwards
informed me, entirely lost sight of Mr. Wood, who was supposed to be out
of town, gone abroad, anywhere except in London; whence, however, he had
not stirred. Jarrett had not traced his slippery partner to the Royal
Italian Opera. He assured me that having no indications whatever to act
upon he had come there guided simply by instinct. He was a man whose
instinct seldom misled him.
While Mr. Gye and myself were a little surprised at the sudden
apparition, Mr. Wood was lost in confusion. Jarrett meanwhile was
absolutely calm. Standing at the door, he took a pinch of snuff, and for
a few moments remained silent. Then, addressing his partner, he simply
said: "Mr. Wood, can I have a minute's conversation with you outside?"
Mr. Wood rose, and left the room, but returned in less than a minute,
when Gye whispered to me: "It is all right; he is sure to sign." But
when he was asked to put his name to the document which only awaited his
signature to constitute a perfect contract between him, Gye, and myself,
he hesitated, spoke of the necessity in which he found himself of first
consulting his friends, and finally did not sign.
The conversation which had taken place outside the room, as it was
afterwards repeated to me by Jarrett, was short and simple.
"The singers you have engaged," said Jarrett, "are under contract to
sing at Drury Lane, and nowhere else. If, then, you join Mapleson and
Gye they will not come to you at Covent Garden, and you will have to pay
their salaries whether you open at Drury Lane or not."
Wood could only reply that he would not sign with Mapleson and Gye.
There was no money made that season at the Royal Italian Opera; whilst
Mr. Wood's season at Drury Lane was simply disastrous. The moneyed
partner soon proposed to shut up; but Jarrett, to whom Mr. Wood was
bound, would not hear of this.
"I have no more money," said Wood.
"But you have a number of pianofortes," replied Jarrett. "You have music
shops here and in Scotland whose contents and goodwill can be sold."
"You wish to ruin me?" asked Wood.
"You did not mind ruining me in 1854," answered Jarrett, "when we
carried on Opera together and you left me to bear the burden of your
losses."
It is bad enough for a manager to lose money, hoping night after night
that by some new and successful stroke, or some change of taste on the
part of the capricious public, the tide of luck may at last turn in his
favour. But Mr. Wood had no such sanguine delusions to maintain him in
his adversity; his losses were irretrievable. They increased as the
season went on without any chance of being even arrested; and in the end
anyone but a man of Mr. Wood's indomitable energy and courage would have
been ruined beyond hope of recovery.
During the Wood season at Drury Lane many interesting performances were
given, including Wagner's _Flying Dutchman_, with Ilma de Murska as the
heroine and Santley as the hero; _Mignon_, with Mdme. Christine Nilsson;
also Weber's _Abu Hassan_, each for the first time in England. But the
enterprise could not stand against the superior attractions of the Royal
Italian Opera, while the Royal Italian Opera, on its side, suffered in
its receipts from the counter attraction presented by Drury Lane.
Towards the end of the season, war having been declared between France
and Germany, Mdme. Pauline Lucca became anxious about her husband, who
was an officer in a Prussian cavalry regiment, and now under campaigning
orders. She was anxious, therefore, to see him before his departure with
the army moving towards the French frontier. Some weeks afterwards, at
the battle of Mars la Tour, a portion of the Prussian cavalry was
sacrificed in order to hold in check the French, who were seeking to
leave Metz in order to march towards Paris. Mdme. Lucca's husband, Baron
von Rhaden, was dangerously wounded in the charge; and the Baroness
received special permission to visit him in the field hospital, where he
was lying, outside Metz. Another officer of the same regiment, also
wounded, came in for a good share of her attentions; and afterwards,
being at that time in the United States, she applied in the New York
Courts for a divorce from Baron von Rhaden in order to marry Baron von
Wallhofen, the officer, who--as just mentioned--had, like Von Rhaden,
been severely wounded at Mars la Tour. The New York Tribunal granted the
divorce on Mdme. Lucca's simple affidavit; and before her husband (No.
1) had had time to reply by a counter affidavit from Berlin the second
marriage had been celebrated. Such being the case the decree of
divorce, so hastily pronounced, could not well be interfered with. So,
at least, said the judges to whom the matter was referred; and Mdme.
Pauline Lucca remained as she is now, Baroness von Wallhofen.