The greatest vocalist of whom I have a recollection, is Madame
Catalani. In her youth, she was the finest singer in Europe, and she
was much sought after by all the great people during her sejour in
London. She was extremely handsome, and was considered a model as wife
and mother. Catalani was very fond of money, and would never sing
unless paid beforehand. She was invited, with her husband, to pass some
time at Stowe, where a numerous but select party had been invited; and
Madame Catalani, being asked to sing soon after dinner, willingly
complied. When the day of her departure came, her husband placed in the
hands of the Marquis of Buckingham the following little billet:--"For
seventeen songs, seventeen hundred pounds." This large sum was paid at
once, without hesitation; proving that Lord Buckingham was a refined
gentleman, in every sense of the word.
Catalani's husband, M. de Valabreque, once fought a duel with a German
baron who had insulted the prima donna; the weapons used were sabres,
and Valabreque cut half of the Baron's nose clean off. Madame Catalani
lived for many years, highly respected, at a handsome villa near
Florence. Her two sons are now distinguished members of the Imperial
court in Paris; the eldest being Prefet du Palais, and the youngest
colonel of a regiment of hussars.
When George the Fourth was Regent, Her Majesty's Theatre, as the
Italian Opera in the Haymarket is still called, was conducted on a very
different system from that which now prevails. Some years previous to
the period to which I refer, no one could obtain a box or a ticket for
the pit without a voucher from one of the lady patronesses; who, in
1805, were the Duchesses of Marlborough, Devonshire, and Bedford, Lady
Carlisle, and some others. In their day, after, the singing and the
ballet were over, the company used to retire into the concert-room,
where a ball took place, accompanied by refreshments and a supper.
There all the rank and fashion of England were assembled on a sort of
neutral ground. At a later period, the management of the Opera House
fell into the hands of Mr. Waters, when it became less difficult to
obtain admittance; but the strictest etiquette was still kept up as
regarded the dress of the gentlemen, who were only admitted with
knee-buckles, ruffles, and chapeau bras. If there happened to be a
drawing-room, the ladies would appear in their court-dresses, as well
as the gentlemen, and on all occasions the audience of Her Majesty's
Theatre was stamped with aristocratic elegance. In the boxes of the
first tier might have been seen the daughters of the Duchess of Argyle,
four of England's beauties; in the next box were the equally lovely
Marchioness of Stafford and her daughter, Lady Elizabeth Gore, now the
Duchess of Norfolk: not less remarkable was Lady Harrowby and her
daughters Lady Susan and Lady Mary Ryder. The peculiar type of female
beauty which these ladies so attractively exemplified, is such as can
be met with only in the British Isles: the full, round, soul-inspired
eye of Italy, and the dark hair of the sunny south, often combined with
that exquisitely pearly complexion which seems to be concomitant with
humidity and fog. You could scarcely gaze upon the peculiar beauty to
which I refer without being as much charmed with its kindly expression
as with its physical loveliness.