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THE LIFE OF
HENRIETTE SONTAG,
COUNTESS DE ROSSI.
[Illustration: portrait of Henriette Sontag]
NEW YORK:
STRINGER & TOWNSEND, 222 BROADWAY
1852
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[Illustration: HENRIETTE SONTAG, COUNTESS DE ROSSI.]
LIFE
OF
HENRIETTE SONTAG,
COUNTESS DE ROSSI.
WITH
INTERESTING SKETCHES
BY
SCUDO, HECTOR BERLIOZ, LOUIS BOERNE, ADOLPHE ADAM,
MARIE AYCARD, JULIE DE MARGUERITTE, PRINCE
PUCKLER-MUSKAU, AND THEOPHILE GAUTIER.
NEW YORK:
STRINGER & TOWNSEND, 222 BROADWAY.
1852.
ENTERED, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1852, by
STRINGER AND TOWNSEND,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the Southern District of
New York.
_B. CRAIGHEAD, Printer and Stereotyper,
53 Vesey Street._
CONTENTS.
LIFE OF THE COUNTESS DE ROSSI, 5
PEN AND INK PORTRAIT, BY _Marie Aycard_, 37
HENRIETTE SONTAG, BY _M. Scudo_, 39
HENRIETTE SONTAG IN FRANCFORT, BY _Louis Boerne_, 46
PAST AND PRESENT, BY _Theophile Gautier_, 51
HOW SONTAG SINGS, BY _Hector Berlioz_, 53
THE PRIMA DONNA AND THE COUNTESS, BY " " 53
IS IT THE MOTHER OR THE DAUGHTER? BY _Adolphe Adam_, 57
SOUVENIR OF THE OPERA, BY _Julie de Margueritte_, 59
SONTAG AND THE EMPEROR OF RUSSIA, BY _Prince Puckler-Muskau_, 64
MEMOIR OF THE COUNTESS DE ROSSI.
WHETHER in rapid memoir or in ponderous biography, the life-sketcher or
the chronicler must always fain behold the object before him as a model
endowed not only with surpassing moral and physical beauties, but with
that individuality of genius, and that peculiar destiny, which separate
the few from the crowd. To the readers remains the duty of acting as
those did who were wont to attend the triumphs of Roman conquerors, and
urge the deduction of their mistakes and misdeeds--or, as the "Satanic
advocate" in the process of canonization in the Pope's court, show how
much more of a sinner than of a saint was the mortal about to pass into
the heaven of human invention. Although, thus, well aware of how much
our trifling office here is prone to exaggeration, we feel that there is
no fear of transgressing in the present case, and that the readers will
rather feel how much below than above the truth we remain.
The Countess Rossi is as clearly fitted to be the heroine of a memoir of
real life, as she is of being the heroine of a lyrical drama on the
fictive scene. Those who will read this sketch will, we think, behold in
her all the characteristics of a special and elevated nature--one marked
amongst mankind, framed for its admiration and for its model. We have
the striking attributes of a special nature manifest and effulgent even
in infancy; we see them defying the obstacles of fortune, and constantly
rising in power. We behold them in their utmost effulgence--first on the
stage, and next in the highest regions of society, and, ultimately,
tried by adversity. From beginning to end, the power and the effulgence
remain ever the same, fitted for all positions: wherever it is placed,
it continues unsullied and undiminished.
Having set forth our claims to the attention of those to whom we address
ourselves, we shall now rapidly trace the outline of the singularly
eventful career of Countess Rossi. The interest its moving incidents, so
singularly varied, have always inspired, are now increased tenfold by new
features, totally unparalleled in the history of the lyrical stage. To
behold this distinguished lady return to the stage, after enjoying
undisturbed for many years, and in the most exalted rank, the love and
esteem of the greatest personages of Europe, is a truly singular and
affecting event; but to behold her return, after this lapse of time,
with all her powers not only unimpaired, but improved by taste, study,
and observation, is an event without an example. If, to take the exact
measure of this phenomenon by comparison, we turn to the very few who
were her contemporaries on the stage, what do we behold? If asked how so
extraordinary a fact happens to exist, those who have had the good
fortune to know the Countess Rossi will readily explain it. The first
reason and first cause are, that this lady possesses a remarkably well
regulated mind--gentle in all things, ever resigned, and possessed of
unruffled patience; and her feelings, controlled by the most virtuous
sense of right, have never been agitated by those passions which most of
all beset stages and courts, and are the most insidious and dangerous
assailants of those who are the constant objects of adoration.
To these might be added other aiding causes, but of no little potency.
For the sake of brevity, we shall only mention two: the first is, that
the Countess Rossi's voice is a pure and perfect soprano, of the highest
register, from the first settlement of her voices--it is "to the manner
born." Thus she has never been compelled to superadd to her studies of
vocal science those efforts by which most of the greatest vocalists have
been obliged to transmute their contralto or mezzo soprano tones, to
polish their guttural or husky tones, and--almost all of them--extend
artificially their register. On the other hand, during her long
secession from the stage, the love of musical art has always remained
predominant, and its science been constantly cultivated, without the
necessity of taxing her powers, without the exhausting exertions of
other singers; whilst her style of singing is that of the high classical
Italian school, the only one that nurses the voice, whilst it displays
all its melodic power. Had not the Countess Rossi yielded up the German
school--had she not resorted to the Italian school to modify her
singing--as her great countryman Mozart did, to modify the form his
inspirations assumed--her voice would no doubt have been injured, and
she would have lost that marvellous power of overflowing richness of
embellishment, requiring purity of tone, agility, and elegance, in which
she is unquestionably unrivalled.
HENRIETTE SONTAG was born of a respectable family of artists, of limited
means, at Coblentz, Kingdom of Prussia. The old saying of the poet,
"_nascitur, non fit_," is singularly applicable to this great vocalist.
The strong bent for music which pointed out her ultimate vocation, was
observable as early as five years of age. At seven years of age, betwixt
her exquisite beauty and her exquisite voice, she was known far and wide
in her neighborhood. To gratify the nobility of the district, the
authorities of the town, or their friendly neighbors, it was the
practice of Henriette Sontag's mother to place her child on the table,
and bid her sing.
A distinguished traveller, who afterwards beheld her in all the
effulgence of her triumphs, relates having seen her sing in this manner
the grand aria of "The Queen of Night," in the _Zauberfloete_--her arms
hanging beside her, her eye following a fly on the window, or a
butterfly sporting on the flowers without--her voice, so pure, so
penetrating, and of angelic tone, flowing as unconsciously, as
effortless, and as sportive as a limpid rill from the mountain side.
The circle of her fame spread gradually wider and wider, and the
_Impresarii_ of Germany were not long in awakening to the importance of
securing the assistance of the infant wonder. The consequence was, that
at eleven years of age she appeared at Darmstadt, in a part written
purposely for her, entitled, _The Little Daughter of the Danube_. In
spite of her extraordinary success at Darmstadt, her wise and
conscientious parents, knowing the fate of infant prodigies when their
natural powers are allowed an untutored growth under the artificial
warmth of injudicious admiration and the heat of theatres, withdrew the
young _prima donna_ from the first scene of her successes, and conveyed
her to a very distant spot, the Conservatoire of Prague.
At the Conservatoire of Prague, the little maiden and her relatives did
not cease to be tempted by managers or _Impresarii_. First attracted by
her beauty, they were soon astonished by her aptitude. She successively
won the prize of every class of this great school of music, until she
earned the highest position; and, placed at the head of the school, she
became one of the marvels of the city.
Scarce three years had elapsed since her matriculation at the
Conservatoire, and she had hardly attained the age of fourteen, when she
saved the fortunes of that great Imperial Opera of Prague, associated
with so many glorious memories of music, and which would be immortalized
by the fact alone of having been the stage where the _Clemenza di Tito_
and the _Marriage of Figaro_ were first produced by Mozart. The favorite
_prima donna_ of this noble theatre was suddenly taken ill, and so
seriously, that there was little hope left of her reappearing for some
time. The manager, in despair, and at a loss which way to turn, could
think of no other resource to retain his audiences than the appearance
of the young prodigy of the Conservatoire--little Henriette Sontag. Such
was her proficiency in her art, that her parents no longer saw the same
danger in allowing their offspring to tread the fictive scene.
If nothing were wanting in courage, natural gifts of voice, and
intellectual power on the part of the child, as regards the height of
her person there was a _mancamento_ of several inches. As the French
proverb says, "_le temps corrige cela_;" but, in the meantime, the
stage-manager, a learned Hellenist, was not oblivious of the means by
which the Greeks gave altitudes to their scenic heroes and heroines, and
the little _prima donna_, to whom was assigned for her _debut_ the part
of the heroine in a translation of the favorite French opera, _Jean de
Paris_, was supplied with enormous cork heels. There was a time, at the
court of Louis XV., when an inch and a half of red heel was the
distinctive characteristic of a marquis, or of a lady of sufficient
quality to be allowed to sit in the presence of royalty. On the occasion
of the _debut_ of Henriette Sontag, four inches of vermillion-colored
cork foreshadowed the rank of the little lady, destined to become one of
the most absolute mimic queens of the lyrical world, and afterwards a
real and much respected countess. When the singer who enacted the
pompous seneschal in the opera of _Jean de Paris_ came forward, and
announced, "It is no less a personage than the Princess of Navarre whose
arrival I announce!" the applause and laughter were universal. When the
little prodigy appeared on her cork pedestal, the house was filled with
cheers and acclamations. As the business of the stage proceeded, the
auditors found that there was no longer any indulgence necessary on the
score of age, but that there were claims on their admiration for a voice
which, for its purity, its peculiar flute-like tone, and its agility,
has never been surpassed. The celebrated tenor, Gerstener, who enacted
_Jean de Paris_, that night sang better than ever, finding that he had
to cope with the attraction of a new melodic power. Many nights
successively did she thus sing the Princess of Navarre with increasing
success to crowded houses. Her next part was one far more
difficult--that of the heroine in Paer's fine opera, _Sargin_.
The capital of Bohemia was not destined long to retain its chief
ornament. Long before the conclusion of the season, the Imperial Court
had heard of her extraordinary success, and Henriette Sontag was
summoned to Vienna, where she appeared, the very next season, at the
German Opera.
In our times we have "Kings of Railways" and "Colossuses of Roads,"
indebted to good luck for their success. At the time Henriette Sontag
_debutted_ at Vienna there existed in Italy also _millionaire
Impresarii_, only indebted for pre-eminence to the favors of chance.
That curious original, Barbaja, the lessee at the same time of the
largest German and Italian Theatres, was born under the luckiest of
stars. Since his day, his successors in Italy, having found talent
becoming daily rarer, have watched every young talent as it rose, taken
possession of it, and worked them until the death of their voices,
before they had a chance of the maturation of their powers, in singing
operas of composers, who strive to conceal their sterility under noise
and exaggerations both dramatic and instrumental. In our days, to be a
successful lessee, you must be possessed of indefatigable genius, as
well as industry; Barbaja, on the contrary, found musical genius of all
kinds at his command to speculate upon. Not only were there Catalanis,
Pastas, Malibrans, Garcias, Donzellis, Rubinis, Lablaches, &c., in ample
number, but all the operas that Paer, Winter, Paesiello, Cimarosa, and
Mozart had written, were fresh in the lyrical _repertoire_, and
composers of equal merit were living, and could be monopolized for
money. In the Villa Barbaja, the palace the fortunate _impresario_ had
built for himself on the Possilipo, at Naples, you may, half way up the
hill, on the third story, see the room where, in the dog-days, Rossini
wrote his _Otello_, standing at a desk, in the costume of terrestrial
paradise, with a Chucharro boy fanning him behind with the back torn
from a large music-book. When managers had such slaves responding to
their behests, like the genius to the lamp of Aladdin, they might easily
live and rule like sultans, with a Mahomet's paradise upon earth. Thus
it was with Barbaja. With the assistance of the great alchymist Rossini,
who turned so readily "notes into gold," he thought he knew and mostly
had secured all the talent available to his theatre that existed in
Europe. In those days not only a northern _cantatrice_ was not dreamt
of, but it was thought that the South alone could produce a great singer
for the Italian lyrical stage.
When he arrived at Vienna, such was, however, the report of the fame of
young Sontag, that the great sybarite of the day condescended at last to
visit the German opera, even at the sacrifice of having his ears,
accustomed to the melodious "_lingua Toscana_," torn by the guttural
discordance of the Teutonic tongue. On hearing Henriette Sontag sing,
Barbaja was overcome with astonishment. To this feeling succeeded
dismay, when, having immediately applied to her parents, he found in
them a polite but most unquestionable abhorrence for the Italian stage,
which they were afraid would lead their daughter to the land of moral
laxity, of _Cicisbei_ and _Patiti_, of
"Pasteboard triumph, and the cavalcade,
Processions formed for piety and love,
A mistress and a saint in every grove."
In vain he tempted them with an _El Dorado_ in perspective--the
conscientious Germans would not concede, at first, a single iota of his
wishes. The world, to whom she has imparted so much pure
enjoyment,--and, fortunately, will now impart so much more in time to
come--was near never hearing the great vocalist sing in an euphonious
language, in that which made her fame universal, and led her to visit
England and France.
At last, however, after repeated efforts, some concession was made,
although Barbaja's fate was like that of the hero of the classical
poet--the gods vouchsafed but half his prayer. Henriette Sontag was
allowed to appear at the Italian Opera at Vienna. But she alone, of all
the great singers of those days, never visited Italy. Many an evening
the good-natured Neapolitan _Impresario_, a still greater epicure in
gastronomy than in music, after enjoying a dinner such as Lucullus was
wont to degustate nearly on the same spot, as he walked on his Palace
terrace and looked down across the inlet to San Carlo, would grow moody
when he thought of what he lost by the rooted aversion of Sontag's
parents; and then he would anathematize the _Maledetti Tedeschi_, the
born enemies of his country, with an energy, if not with a poetry,
worthy of the patriotic _Filicaja_--for they, like all the other
invaders of Italy, "never gave her anything but blows and slavery, and
always took away everything they could, not leaving even an Iron Crown,
or a funeral urn to preserve the ashes of past greatness."
The important change for the musical world at large was, however,
effected. The next season Henriette Sontag was engaged to sing in
Italian at Vienna, and removed to the Carinthia, having for her
colleagues vocalists of such a calibre, that one of them, "_il buon
Rubini_," has never been surpassed; whilst all those who have enjoyed
the talents of the other, Lablache, feel that not only he has never
been, but cannot imagine that he ever will be equalled.
Amongst the company at the Carinthia, there was another exquisite
artist, who was destined, as a model of style, to exert a great
influence on the career of Sontag, who has now risen so much higher in
the world's estimation than her fair predecessor has ever attained,
eminent as she was. As soon as the young Sontag, the most conscientious
of artists (no slight portion of her success being due to her severity
of judgment on herself), had heard Madame Fodor, a new light broke upon
her; with tears in her eyes she threw her arms round her mother's neck,
conjured her to take her home, and give her a piano. Her wish
accomplished, she sat at her piano, working night and day at improving
herself, and never leaving her home but when there was a rehearsal for
Fodor, when she would hide herself in a corner of the house, and her
ears would drink up with enthusiasm every note that dropped from the
great _prima donna_, who has left a memory still enduring with the old
_habitues_ of Her Majesty's Theatre. Madame Fodor, on the other hand,
hearing the young inexperienced _prima donna_ sing for the first time,
exclaimed, "Had I her voice, I should hold the whole world at my feet!"
The Prussian _dilettanti_ employed every means to bring Henriette Sontag
to their capital. At the end of the Italian Opera season at Vienna, she
was persuaded to come to Berlin, to support by her attraction the
Koenigstadt Theatre, just opened. There she was joined by
distinguished German lyrists, such as Jaeger, Waechter, Sager, and
Spitzeder. She was obliged to sing the translations of the operas of
Rossini and of the French _repertoire_, then all the fashion at Berlin.
Her success, however, was immense. Every seat in the house was taken, in
anticipation, long before the days of performance; and we remember well,
being there at the time, that the foreigners of rank who arrived in
Berlin, finding it impossible to purchase a seat at any price, were
obliged to apply to Count de Bruhl, the minister of the "_Menus plaisirs
du roi_," to obtain an obscure seat at the back of the Court, or of the
diplomatic box.
M. de Talleyrand used to boast, as one of the brightest diplomatic
tricks of his tricksy career, that in the settlement of limits of
respective dominions at the Congress of Vienna, he had procured that
Ferney should be included in the area of France, which made Voltaire a
Frenchman _post mortem_. On the same principle, the Prussians having
recently secured, at the same Congress, the forced allegiance of
Sontag's birth-place, Coblentz, added to the admiration which she
commanded wherever she went, a feeling of pride at her being their
countrywoman. Hence their enthusiasm knew no bounds.
The love as well as admiration excited by Mdlle. Sontag during her
residence at Berlin, gave rise to many singular incidents. Not allowed
to approach the object of their idolatry, her adorers had recourse to
the most eccentric expedients to express their devotion. It is related
that a young man of rank was so desperately enamored of her, as to
resort to the romantic expedient of hiring himself as a servant in her
family, to have the pleasure of constantly seeing her; nor was the
truth suspected by the object of his adoration, or any one else, until
the gentleman's own relations discovered him, and removed him from the
vicinity of the attraction.
That wise and excellent monarch, the late King of Prussia, heartily
joined in the enthusiasm of his subjects; and that he entertained as
much esteem as admiration for Madlle. Sontag will be proved in the most
signal manner by a circumstance we shall have presently to relate.
Whilst at the Berlin theatre, overtures were made to Mdlle. Sontag from
the Italian Opera in Paris--then belonging to the Crown, and under the
control of Vicomte Sosthene de la Rochefoucault, who for many years
ruled, under the Restoration, the theatres of France, and endeavored,
with rather dubious success, to apply the "Maxims" of his witty ancestor
to the government of stage affairs. As M. Sosthene had for negotiator in
this treaty the great Rossini, who had made Mdlle. Sontag's acquaintance
in Vienna, his wishes, amongst the offers made from all quarters,
prevailed. Madlle. Sontag made her first appearance in Paris at the
beginning of the season. She arrived in Paris at the close of the year
1827, after a triumphal "Progress" through Holland and the Rhenane
provinces, in which she gathered abundantly both those crowns which are
supposed always to be made of laurel, as well as those which bear the
effigies of monarchs. Paris was then the centre of taste and the
metropolis of art--the occupation of the whole population the enjoyment
of pleasures or the ministering to its desires and caprices. Madlle.
Sontag's voice and beauty produced a _furore_--each note produced a
murmur or an acclamation. No feature of hers escaped a sonnet, from her
eyebrow to her pretty foot. The ugliest women thought they became
handsome by imitating her costume; and venders of articles of luxury and
fancy goods found no easier way of getting rid of their wares than by
stamping them with her name or with her supposed resemblance.
In this, her first engagement at Paris, she made her _debut_ in
Desdemona. She also performed with great success La Donna del Lago,
Cenerentola, and other first characters in the first operas of the day.
The Italian Opera season ended, she was eagerly engaged for the next
season, and her support secured. She then returned to her engagement at
Berlin,--once more at the Koenigstadt Theatre. Here she was destined
to receive, in a very novel form, the greatest compliment she had as yet
met with. The Berlinese, who justly deemed her the brightest living
ornament of their capital, and considered her as a Prussian, and thus,
for two reasons, their property, were indignant that she had left Berlin
for Paris, and still more, that she had taken another engagement, and
intended to leave them once more. When she appeared for the first time
after her return, in the _Italiana in Algieri_, from all parts of the
house there was an explosion of hisses and groans, interspersed with
exclamations--"What a shame to leave us!" "Give up your engagement with
the hateful French!" "Promise--swear you will remain with us!" &c., &c.
The alarm of the manager and of the vocalists engaged in the _Italiana_
was boundless. The jealous husband of the _libretto_, the favored
_cicisbeo_, even the erotic sultan and his janissaries fled from the
theatre, whilst for twenty minutes the fair vocalist remained alone on
the stage, mute and immovable as the statue of some nymph in a garden
abiding the pelting of a storm. Vain were the efforts of the audience:--
"Speret--sudet multum, frustraque laboret,"
they could extract no concession from the goddess of their idolatry;
their courage to persecute her further failed them; and they determined
to enjoy the present moment,--"_advienne que pourra!_" From that night
unto the end of the season, the applause and enthusiasm of the audiences
of the Koenigstadt knew no bounds when the singer they had at first
regaled with their fiercest sibillations was on the stage.
Madlle. Sontag returned to Paris for the season. The Italian Opera was
then fallen under the rule of M. Laurent. There she found Malibran in
the plenitude of her fame and glory. The theatrical gossips, and the
Parisian _gobemouches_, either hoped or expected--all of them
predicted--that a war was about to arise betwixt the two stars now
forced to move in the same orbit--a war which would eclipse the
encounters of Juno and Venus in the days of Paris and the siege of Troy.
For once the Greeks of Paris, and the Trojans of the Salle Favart, were
disappointed. It is little to be doubted that the gentle and
affectionate nature of Madlle. Sontag, and the generosity which
characterized at all times the impetuous Malibran, would, under any
circumstances, have united the two great vocalists--and of this
supposition the more than probability is established by the fact that
all other _cantatrici_, of equal pretensions, have never failed to be
severed by jealousy the moment they have met on the same stage. But long
before Madlle. Sontag's arrival in Paris the second time, she had become
acquainted with Malibran. Those amongst our readers who have lived in
Paris when it was a centre of society, instead of a centre of
revolution, cannot fail to have heard, at least, of the Countess Merlin.
This Havanese lady, a gifted practical _dilettante_, with Countess de
Sparre (Madlle. Naldi) and her countryman Orfila (no less distinguished
as a vocalist than as Dean of the Faculty of Medicine of Paris, and the
greatest of toxicologists), were wont to give concerts which were
thronged by all the _Melomanes_ of the French capital. Madame Merlin
thus naturally became the "_arbiter elegantiarum_" of Paris, at least as
far as regarded musical taste, and her house the rendezvous of all who
aspired to fame on the lyrical stage. Here Madlle. Sontag was frequently
invited on her first arrival in Paris. On one occasion, the Countess
introduced to her a fair Spaniard, a _protege_ of hers just arrived from
New York. This artist, who had spent some years performing in the
inglorious theatres of the New World, was afterwards the celebrated
Malibran. Madame Merlin begged Madlle. Sontag to encourage her friend,
who, she assured her, had the greatest gifts of voice, by singing with
her the duet in _Tancredi_. Madlle. Sontag cheerfully consented. So
astonished, delighted, and overcome were the two fair vocalists at their
respective talents, that at the close of the duet, they threw themselves
into one another's arms, and from that day began their friendship.
Still the theatrical scandal-mongers did not hesitate for a moment to
declare that the two queens of the lyrical stage were devoured by mutual
envy and jealousy, and they thought there could not be a doubt of it,
from a circumstance which occurred the night Madlle. Sontag sang the
_Barbiere_ for the first time since her return. Rossini came in the
interval betwixt the acts to tell the Rosina of the night, at that
moment surrounded by a crowd of admirers, that he had left Malibran in
tears in her box, in despair at ever attaining such a purity of tone and
such a perfection of execution as she had displayed. This was a sincere
tribute of admiration, and not of envy, on the part of that lamented
vocalist; whose real character, being impressed with the eccentricity
which too often besets genius, few could understand, and whose warmth of
heart and imagination made her too often the victim of cold-blooded
worldliness.
The truth is, that on her arrival in Paris, Malibran received her fair
colleague with open arms. Their meeting produced friendly emulation,
instead of hostile pique and rivalry, and the two incomparable singers
agreed to perform, in turn, the same operas. Thus did they enact, on
alternate nights, Desdemona, Rosina, Cenerentola, &c., whilst they
performed together such operas as _Tancredi_, &c. This was the most
glorious--the culminating epoch of the _Italiens_ in Paris. On one
occasion, _Don Giovanni_ was given; Madlle. Sontag performing Donna Anna
(perhaps the greatest of her triumphs); Malibran, Zerlina; and
Heinfetter, Elvira. On this, one of the coldest nights on record,
amongst the most stirring, elbowing their way from without, in the rush
of the eager aspirants to seats in the house, were observed at the same
time, Rossini, Cherubini, Paer, Meyerbeer, and Auber! Well might the
journals of the day observe, that no better criterion was needed of the
merits of the performers. No doubt each great _maestro_ went there
revolving in his mind how such voices might be turned to account in his
next composition; for then even the authors of _Masaniello_ and the
_Philtre_, of _Il Crociato_ and _Robert le Diable_, had not adopted that
style of overwrought harmony, of clamorous choral, and of deafening
instrumental combination, from which all pure voices of such quality
shrink--despairing to find melodic phrases to be uttered without
contention with ophicleides and double-drum.
Such was the sisterly love and confidence which existed betwixt the two
marvellous vocalists, then engaged at the _Italiens_, and which is so
powerfully recorded in the letters of the lamented Malibran, that the
latter was, for a time, in 1828, the only depositary of Sontag's secret,
that amongst the crowd of sighing and adoring swains who followed her
respectfully at a distance, tendering their offers of marriage, there
was one on whom she had bestowed her heart, and was about to bestow her
hand.
The fortunate object of Madlle. Sontag's choice--and time has proved how
well-founded was her judgment--was a member of the diplomatic body then
accredited at the Court of the Tuileries. Count de Rossi, although then
a very young man, was already, at that critical period of political
affairs, _Conseiller d'Ambassade_ of the Sardinian mission--a sufficient
proof of his mental powers. He had the good looks, the elegant manners,
the tastes, and the gifts of conversation which distinguish the
travelled man and the real _homme de qualite_--qualities which no
adversity can diminish. Fearing the prejudices of his noble relatives
and of his royal master, until they could be assuaged, it was determined
to conceal the wedding for the time being. It consequently was
solemnized with all due form, but in secret, with only two or three
intimate friends as witnesses.
A highly interesting circumstance attended this marriage--one perhaps
unparalleled.
The late kind-hearted King of Prussia, apprised of the intended
marriage, was desirous on the one hand to show his estimation of his
fair subject, and on the other to prepare for the prejudices and
obstacles this marriage would meet with on the part of the Sardinian
Cabinet. Unsolicited, he spontaneously bestowed on Madlle. Sontag,
before her marriage, a Patent of Nobility, with every necessary details
of Coat of Arms, &c., together with a title, and the name of De
Launstein. So singular a circumstance cannot be contemplated without the
deepest interest. It appears to us to do as much credit to the feelings
of the lamented Sovereign, as it did honor to the character of Madlle.
Sontag.
But now the time was arrived when the Countess de Rossi must leave Paris
once more. The regret was universal; by this time she had endeared
herself to every one that approached her.
If at Paris Madlle. Sontag was admired by the public at large for her
talents and her beauty, her gentle and amiable character and her
generosity in private life gained her the esteem of all circles of
society. One _trait_, amongst many, may be cited, which adds glory to
her character as a woman as well as an artist.
The parents of Madlle. Sontag were, as we have stated, artists, with
very limited means. This she never forgot; and her short experience of
adversity in her earliest years was sufficient to awaken every sentiment
of charity. She was known by all the exiled Germans whom adversity had
driven from their native land to seek charity and sympathy in France.
One cold night, on leaving the theatre, after a performance of _Don
Giovanni_, Donna Anna, still full of emotion, observed on the step of a
door, as she passed, three young girls near their mother, singing
_lieders_ of their Fatherland. Madlle. Sontag recognised the poor
mother, who was weeping: she was scarcely thirty years old. She
recollected that she had seen her at the theatre at Darmstadt, when she
herself had been taken there in the arms of her parents. The
_Cantatrice_ approached the group with trembling steps, and in a voice
deeply moved by emotion, asked the mother where she lived--procured an
answer--dropped a gold coin--hurried to her carriage, and drove off.
On the same evening, a servant, attired in splendid livery, knocked at
the door of a garret of a house in the Fauxbourg du Temple. "Who is
there?" was asked by a voice, weakened by poverty and want. "A friend,
who brings you good news," was the immediate reply. The door opened.
"Here is a letter which I have been requested to deliver to you," said
the lacquey. "Read it." The letter was thus couched:--
"On presenting yourself to-morrow at No. 17 Chaussee d'Antin, at
Mr. M. B., the banker, you will find a sum of three thousand
francs, which I beg you to accept. Return to Darmstadt with your
three daughters, whose education I will look after."
"Pray tell me the name of the saviour of myself and children?" "I
cannot," was the reply of the messenger; "at Darmstadt only will it be
known to you."
The beggar dressed her children in their best attire, and the following
morning took the road to Germany. For seven years she regularly received
a pension, which enabled her to give her daughters a good education. One
of them entered the Conservatoire of Berlin, and has now become one of
the most brilliant stars of the German stage. Her name we of course must
refrain from mentioning. Only within the last two years has the poor
wanderer of those days discovered the secret author of a deed of such
noble charity.
This is but one instance of the many acts of signal charity of the
Countess Rossi recorded by the German writers, from whom we have
borrowed largely for the uses of this trifling sketch.
It will now be asked, what had the Direction of Her Majesty's Theatre in
London been doing during the several years that the great capitals of
the Continent had been enjoying the marvellous gifts of Countess Rossi?
The fact is, that as regards distant things, no great foresight or
vigilance could be expected from those who formerly directed this
institution. The engagement of Madlle. Sontag was too far-fetched an
effort: whilst she was at Vienna or Berlin, affairs at home absorbing
too much of the time and attention of the unfortunate lessee for the
time being. Her Majesty's Theatre--specially established by royalty, and
the chief amusement of the successive sovereigns and their illustrious
guests--liberally supported by the greatest aristocracy in the
world--for thirty years presented the most disorderly and disgraceful
aspect which ever characterized any theatre of such pretensions. Instead
of being governed by general principles of equity, and with a view to
general results, it was alternately subjected to the caprice of a
coterie, or to the passions of an artist. The stage was looked upon as a
resort of gallantry, enlivened by the envies, jealousies, and battles of
the _prima donna_; and the audience part of the theatre, where the
greatest personages of the land habitually appeared, headed by Royalty
itself, was frequently turned into a bear-garden, for uncouth
exhibitions of temper and unseemly rows. Needless to add what was the
fate of the successive lessees--at one moment compelled to live under
the foot of a favorite dancer, at another to be at the beck and call of
an imperious _prima donna_; to pay them whatever they asked, and
sacrifice to them whoever or whatever they pleased--"_Stet pro ratione
voluntas!_" was ever the order of the day. Not astonishing, that whoever
took the helm--a great and liberal nobleman, like the Earl of Middlesex
and other personages, whose mishaps Horace Walpole has so wittily
portrayed--a sublime composer, like Handel--a rich banker, like
Chambers--a librarian--an Italian _impresario_, or a clever actor--let
the theatre be governed by a single individual, or by a committee--ruin
was sure to ensue. To seek a _prima donna_ of German extraction at
Berlin, might, at some moment, when an Italian "_assolutissima_" was
reigning, have been considered as high treason, and exposed the
perpetrator to the highest punishment her admirers could inflict.
However, when Madlle. Sontag came to the _Italiens_ in Paris, the lessee
might venture, without risk of such dire punishment, to wish to vary and
increase the amusement of the public and his own receipts. Mr. Ebers,
who has recorded with unanswerable data the absurd caprices and
consequent losses of which, under this system, he was for seven years
the victim, was then the lessee of Her Majesty's Theatre. Mr. Ebers was
naturally anxious to make an engagement with a lady, the renown of whose
talents and beauty was the constant theme of conversation amongst the
travelled _dilettanti_. He wrote to her, and offered her an immense sum,
but she felt compelled to decline, owing to her engagements on the
continent.
Of course, when it was ascertained that Madlle. Sontag could not come,
the subscribers, and the public generally, were filled with a headlong
desire to behold her. On the principle of _omne ignotum pro magnifico_,
their imaginations were excited in the extreme; for, the "children of a
larger growth," like their juniors in petticoats, never cry violently
but after what is taken from them, or is beyond their reach. Well we
remember how every one inveighed against the want of liberality, or of
diplomacy, of the unfortunate lessee--who, after all, had only committed
one error, that of allowing the negotiation to be known before he was
certain it would succeed. He was, consequently, soon compelled to make
another appeal to Madlle. Sontag, and offer that, if she would come, he
would pay indemnity for her engagement. But Madlle. Sontag indignantly
repudiated the idea of breaking any contract accepted by her.
The successors of Mr. Ebers, Laurent and Laporte, were destined to reap
the benefit of these applications. The queens of the lyrical stage, like
the heroes and heroines of Shakespeare, come on with tenfold effect when
alarums and flourishes are previously sounded. These negotiations had
awakened and raised the expectations of the whole musical world of the
English metropolis, and, for once, their imaginations were not destined
in any respect to be disappointed in the contemplation of the reality.
The Duke of Devonshire, for so many years the liberal and tasteful
patron of every kind of art, was the first to make society enjoy the
talents of the wonderful artist.
Her _debut_ took place at a concert at Devonshire-house, in the Easter
week. Such was her reputation, not only for musical genius, but for
beauty, elegance, and fascination of every kind, that the crowds of
eager spectators in the streets equalled the throng of nobility, rank,
and fashion under the roof of the great _dilettante_ and patron of art,
the Duke of Devonshire. A few days afterwards, she made her first
appearance at her Majesty's Theatre, when she more than realized the
high expectations which had been raised. Most of the great _prime donne_
of our times have been compelled, in soprano parts, to compensate by
their genius and science for the want of compass in their voices--as,
for example, in the case of Pasta, whose natural voice was a rugged
mezzo-soprano; and of Malibran, who was a real contralto. In Madame
Sontag, the public found a real soprano, "to the manner born," enabling
her to perform with certainty of tone, and with exquisite ease, purity,
and delicacy, the most intricate passages and original embellishments,
whether in full tone or _mezzo voce_. When she first appeared in
_Rosina_, she revelled and luxuriated in roulades, arpeggios, and
fanciful divisions; and, subsequently, in _Donna Anna_, she proved that
she could sing in the chastest classical style, and produce the same
effect by pure sentiment and expression, as she had done before by
fioriture and staccato passages.
Any further account of the performances of Madlle. Sontag at this period
would be supererogatory, that portion of her career being known to our
readers either from personal observation or from report. She found
herself again with Malibran, and we quote the following anecdote to give
another proof of the good understanding which prevailed between Madame
de Rossi and Malibran. One day Malibran accidentally met the great
tenor, Donzelli, and from his countenance she guessed he was in huge
dudgeon at some theatrical affair. "What is the matter with you?" said
Malibran. "It is near the end of the season," answered the great tenor,
"and I have not been able to fix on an attractive opera for my benefit."
"Have you thought of nothing?" "Yes." "Well, what is it?" "I had
thought of the _Matrimonio_, but Pisaroni says she is quite ugly enough
without playing Fidalma; and then you would not be included in the cast,
and I don't know what opera to choose in which you would not have the
second part to Madlle. Sontag's first--that would not please you, and
I'm in despair." "Well," said Malibran, "to please you, and to show you
I would play any part with dear Sontag, I'll play Fidalma." "What, old
Fidalma? You are joking!" "No, I'm not; and to prove that I'm in
earnest, announce it this very day." Donzelli, scarce believing his own
good luck, announced the opera. Malibran, dressed in most exquisite
caricature, was admirable in this part, and to her we owe the subsequent
appearance of great _prime donne_ in the part. The only performer
beneath expectation in this opera was the great tenor himself;
accustomed to parts of sublime energy, he roared like a sucking dove.
From England the Countess Rossi went to Prussia. After having sung the
usual time at Berlin, she repaired to Warsaw. In the Polish capital she
was overtaken by a revolution--source of so many sanguinary conflicts in
that unfortunate kingdom. However, this convulsion, so unfortunate for
others, only led Madame de Rossi to new and increased triumphs. She
removed to St. Petersburg; and there her singing produced unparalleled
effect and the most lasting impression. The Emperor and Empress, from
that moment, conceived for her the greatest partiality, and she was the
object of even more than that delicate, as well as generous liberality,
for which the court of the Czar is so justly renowned.