ML 429 
 
 Crotchets and quavers:or. Revelations of 
 
 3 1924 022 329 431 
 
 CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
Cornell University 
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 The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
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 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022329431 
 
CROTCHETS AID QUAYERS 
 
 OR, 
 
 REVELATIONS 
 
 OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 
 
 BY MAX MAKETZEK. 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 
 S.FRENCH, 121 NASSAU-STREET. 
 
 1855. 
 
Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year one thousand eight bun- 
 * dred and fifty-five, 
 
 By MAX MARETZEK, 
 
 In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States, for tho 
 
 Southern District of New York. 
 
 Burroughs' Steam Presaoa, lis Fulton stroat, N, Y. 
 
TO THE PUBLIC. 
 
 Since some five months, when the first announce- 
 ment that I was about to w,rite the present volume 
 appeared in one of the morning Journals of New 
 York, it has been impossible for me to pass up or 
 down Broadway without subjecting myself to a cross- 
 examination respecting it. Did I enter one of the 
 ferry-boats, I was morally certain to meet some ac- 
 quaintance who questioned me touching my book. 
 If I visited a place of amusement, or sped to a sum- 
 mer-retreat for the purpose of wiling away a few 
 days in forgetfulness of the laton I had previously 
 been wielding, I was unable to do so without having 
 the inquiry put to me — 
 
 " When my ' Autobiography' was to be published V 
 If Napoleon, (the first of the two with whom his- 
 tory has any business) as well as P. T. Barnum, have 
 written their autobiographies ; when Jean Jacques 
 Rousseau and Mr. Henry Wikoff have published 
 their " Confessions," while George Sand and Mrs. 
 Mowafct have given, or are giving, the details of their 
 lives to the world, it may not be altogether astonish- 
 
iV TO THE PUBLIC. 
 
 ing, that a belief in a certain amount of self-glorifica- 
 tion on my part, should have found an entry into the 
 imagination of my friends and acquaintances. 
 
 Let me disabuse them. I am neither a hero, nor 
 have I any pretence to the " principality of humbug." 
 Neither a great philosopher, nor a very small diplo- 
 matist, I am equally unable to drape my shoulders 
 with the mantle of an authoress, or to draw the petti- 
 coats of an actress around my lower person. Nor 
 have I the self-conceit to eulogize myself for those good 
 qualities which I believe in my possession of, nor the 
 self-knowledge to testify to those weaknesses which 
 doubtless I possess. Some of these last this volume 
 will doubtless, unconsciously upon my part, disclose 
 to you. Should it do so, I feel assured that you will 
 deal gently with me. 
 
 Certain is it, that during the first three years of my 
 residence in New York, I carried out four regular 
 seasons of Italian Opera. This alone was more than 
 any one had done in this quarter of the world, since 
 Christopher Columbus first discovered it. My friends 
 and followers, as well as the Press, then dubbed me 
 the " Napoleon " of the Opera. But when in my fifth 
 season, exhausted by previous losses, and the exertions 
 consequent on crushing an opposition at half-prices of 
 admission, I succumbed beneath the attempt to carry 
 it to a close, I received one morning the following 
 lines : 
 
 " ' The Napoleon of the Opera' has at last made it 
 evident, that he is simply its ' Don Quixote.' " 
 
 The anonymous writer had evidently imagined that 
 
TO THE PUBLIC. V 
 
 my feelings ■would be hurt by the receipt of this brief 
 communication. 
 
 Let me seize on this opportunity of assuring him 
 that he was completely mistaken. It is with some- 
 thing like pride and satisfaction, that I acknowledge 
 his having struck the nail completely upon the head. 
 In fact, I conscientiously accept the denomination of 
 the " Don Quixote " of the Opera, in preference to 
 the name of its Napoleon, which has been bestowed 
 upon many before, and will most assuredly be applied 
 to so many after me. 
 
 Don Quixote, my good friend, if you will allow 
 me so to call you, was in every respect a straight- 
 forward, most gallant, persevering and energetic 
 knight, who was willing to shed the last drop of his 
 blood in the cause of honor, truth, and his lady-love, 
 the peerless Dulcinea del Toboso. 
 
 Indeed, the noble Don committed only one small 
 mistake. Nor do I pretend to say, but that this error 
 may be very fairly attributed to his maternal relative. 
 He was born too late. 
 
 When he made his entry into the world, the fight- 
 ing for truth, honor, and our lady-loves, had gone 
 completely out of fashion. It was simply ridiculous. 
 
 Had his mother not made this grievous error, or, 
 rather, had some " strong-minded" female taken the 
 trouble of his birth upon herself, some two or three 
 hundred years earlier, he would possibly have rivalled 
 the Cid, or have become a second King Arthur. 
 
 As far as concerns my operatic and musical Don 
 Quixotism, it can, however, scarcely be said that I 
 
VI TO THE P0BLIC. 
 
 arrived in the United States by any means too late. 
 On the contrary, little in the shape of Italian Opera 
 had previously been attempted here. My naturaliza- 
 tion in this part of the world has, in all probability, 
 been a trifle too early. At all events, until the ad- 
 vent of my Cervantes, I accept right willingly the 
 title of the "Don Quixote of Opera" in America. 
 My Dulcinea. del Toboso has been the Art of Music. 
 As for my Rosinante, who can doubt but that this 
 was indisputably the patronage of "Upper Tendom" 
 — a meagre and lazy mare who would not go ahead, 
 in spite of corn and spurs. My agents were veritable 
 Sancho Panzas. They looked after their own inte- 
 rests, and while I was absorbed in the dream of my 
 Dulcinea, kept their eyes wide open and most un- 
 poetically fixed upon the possible loaves and fishes. 
 Many first tenors were there, whom I had fancied 
 giants, that turned but to be nothing but wind-mills, 
 while the prime donne, who had been rated by me 
 as faithful maids of honor to my Dulcinea, proved 
 too often to be but little better than dairy-maids ; and 
 the enemies whom I bad to encounter, not unfre- 
 quently exhibited themselves, ere the conclusion of 
 the combat, as mere Italian barbers or hotel-waiters 
 in disguise. 
 
 Having thus frankly acknowledged myself to be 
 the identical and original musical Quixote of this 
 continent, to you, my dear Public, it may very clearly 
 be seen that I could have had no intention of writing 
 my autobiography. 
 
TO THE PUBLIC. VH 
 
 The fact is, that only great men write and publish 
 their own memoirs. 
 
 According to the verdict of the world, which is in 
 some shape your own, Don Quixote is, in spite of all 
 his good qualities, considered as nothing more than a 
 great fool. 
 
 Now, although "The Autobiography of a Great 
 Fool " strikes me as being anything but a bad title for 
 a work, as well as a decidedly original one, my amiable 
 Public, I must confess to you that I do not feel alto- 
 gether vain enough of my qualifications to under- 
 take it. 
 
 You ask me, then — " What is your book, if it be 
 not an Autobiography ? Is it an onslaught on the 
 Direction of the Academy of Music ? Is it a return 
 to that body for having twice promised you the lease 
 of that House, and on second thoughts, and a re-con- 
 sideration of the matter, not having kept their pro- 
 mise ? " 
 
 Most certainly not, my good friends. Such a fancy 
 of retaliation has never crossed me. 
 
 Not only have I never dreamed of endeavoring to 
 avenge that breach of promise, but — will you allow 
 me to whisper a word or two in your ears ? — I feel an 
 almost unbounded gratitude to the Directors of the 
 Academy for having suffered it to slip entirely from 
 their memories. 
 
 Some have insinuated, and this too has been even 
 publicly done, that I had taken the pen in my hand, 
 for, the purpose of exposing the operatic coup cPetats 
 of a certain diplomatic Chevalier, who occupied the 
 
VU1 TO THE PUBLIC. 
 
 post of acting Manager in the Academy during the 
 last season, and with whom I was unfortunate enough 
 not always to agree. 
 
 This is, it were almost needless to say, an immense 
 mistake. 
 
 The Chevalier has quitted the battle-ground. Con- 
 sequently there is no further reason for musical pole- 
 mics. A great Diplomatist has absented himself from 
 the country, but this is to you and myself a matter 
 of small moment. So long as the Princess-Bay Oys- 
 ters are plenty and in good condition, I think we 
 may rationally and effectually console ourselves for 
 the loss of one Native. 
 
 But some, reason there must be for writing this 
 book. Custom demands of me a certain explanation 
 touching its appearance. 
 
 The fact is, my dear Public, there is an old and 
 well-worn Proverb, which you may possibly recollect. 
 Should you not do so, however, I will repeat it. It 
 is this — 
 
 " Money is the root of all evil." 
 
 It has so chanced, that there have been several pub- 
 lishers who have applied to me for this identical 
 volume. Moreover, they were willing to pay for its 
 German Anglicism roundly. Who, under similar 
 circumstances, would not have written it? Yery 
 few, believe me ; and, one of these is most certainly 
 not 
 
 Tours, most obediently, 
 
 MAX MAKETZEK. 
 
FIRST LETTER. 
 
 TO HECTOR BERLIOZ, PARIS. 
 Contents : 
 Music in New York, in 1848 — The Astor Place Opera House — Truffi — 
 Benedetti, Rosi — Madame Laborde — Opera Quarrels — James Gor- 
 don Bennett and Edward P. Fry — The Astor Place Riots. 
 
REVELATIONS OP AN OPERA MANAGER, ETC. 11 
 
 LETTER I. 
 
 TO HECTOR BERLIOZ, PARIS. 
 
 New York, July 25, 1855. 
 Mr Dear Berlioz : — 
 
 When you take up this letter, open it, and turn to the 
 signature, you will in all probability imagine that you are 
 dreaming. You may remember, possibly, that when you 
 quitted London after English opera had terminated for the 
 nine hundred and ninety-ninth time its temporary existence, 
 I promised to write to you. Jullien's management had given 
 that highly respectable musical entity its nine hundred and 
 ninety-ninth burial. As times go, all things considered, it 
 was very respectably managed. You and myself had all the 
 trouble of preparing the corpse for the coffin. Balfe, as the 
 doctor, had penned the last prescription ; Sims Reeves, as a 
 native apothecary, carried off all the glory attendant upon 
 putting it out of the land of the living ; while that purely 
 mythical personage, " nobody," would seem to have pocketed 
 the whole of the money its charms had wheedled from its scant 
 admirers. Very certain is it, that none remained. 
 
 Over seven years have since elapsed, but, one of your own 
 French Proverbs says, " Vaut mieux tard que jamais." Ac- 
 
12 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 cordingly, I sit down for the purpose of redeeming my pro- 
 mise. 
 
 If you have not yet learned it, which it may be reasonably 
 presumed in these days of almost universal Journaldom (a 
 great traveller informs me, that in Timbuctoo they have al- 
 ready two newspapers) you have, let me inform you that 
 immediately, or almost immediately after you left London, I 
 accepted an engagement in the United States. Shortly 
 afterwards, I myself, Max Maretzek, became a manager. 
 Do not laugh and shake your head incredulously as you 
 hear this, for let me tell you, it is to the full, as easy to be- 
 come a manager in America, as it is in your country to ob- 
 tain the Croix d'honneur. We are all of us in the hands of 
 chance, and either of these is a perverse accident which may 
 befall any human being. But, in order to let you know how 
 this happened, it will be necessary for me to tell you a long 
 story. Be patient therefore, and listen amiably as you were 
 accustomed to do, without chiding. 
 
 When I arrived in New York, in the month of September, 
 1848, I was immediately struck with the beauty of the Bay 
 and its environs. That which principally delighted me, was 
 however its bright, clear and blue sky. Such a sky I had not 
 seen since I last left Naples. 
 
 The impression it made upon me was so much the 
 stronger, as in my leaving London towards the end of August, 
 the English fog which seems to concentrate itself upon that 
 city, had already acquired a consistence thick enough to be 
 sliced with a fish-knife. Indeed, to a temperate Neapolitan 
 accustomed to live upon maccaroni, I have always believed 
 that a first-rate London fog would prove no unavailable sub- 
 stitute. See, how Nature maltreats Man. The Neapolitan is 
 born where the rarefied atmosphere only develops instead of 
 appeasing his digestive organs ; while the Londoner has a 
 
OPBKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 18 
 
 natural appetite for beefsteak and porter, which nothing else 
 can possibly assuage. Do not however imagine, although it 
 were only for a moment, that I intend entering into a philo- 
 sophical disquisition on the moral, mental or physical varia- 
 tions in Creation ; but allow me to say that my determination 
 was at once formed to remain in America, supposing it were 
 possible and (this is for your private ear) profitable. 
 
 The Musical Institutions which were at this period to he 
 found in New York, consisted of a Philharmonic Society and 
 an Italian Opera ; and the majority of the members of the 
 first of these, were considerably more addicted to the enjoy- 
 ment of the creature comforts, than they were to the culti- 
 vation of Harmony. Their object was rather to make a few 
 dollars by the Annual Subscription for four concerts than to 
 elevate the popular taste. As for the propagation of a liking 
 for Classical Music, this was never even thought of. 
 
 Indeed, their repertoire consisted always of the same few 
 Symphonies, works of the old composers in our Divine 
 Science, which everybody has heard, although but few have 
 comprehended, since childhood. 
 
 The compositions of modern maestri had never even been 
 put in rehearsal. Consequently they could not be produced. 
 But I beg pardon, one Overture of yours, there was, " Les 
 francs juges." if I remember rightly, which had been proposed 
 for performance. It was' accordingly placed in rehearsal, but 
 after a few repetitions withdrawn and condemned. This 
 enlightened Society declared that it was " nonsense." Con- 
 sole yourself, my dear Berlioz, try another — study downward 
 and write in the same manner. "With time and perseverance, 
 you may succeed in lowering your musical genius to 'the 
 level of the musical comprehension of the Philharmonic 
 Society of New York. Perhaps, I ought to tell you that the 
 President of this body is a Mr. Timms, who can scarcely be 
 
14 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 considered actively responsible for all of their harmonic sins. 
 He is a good and thorough musician, but altogether far too 
 modest ds well as too great a lover of 'peace (you will say 
 that this is singularly unlike a musician), for the position which 
 he holds. He has the talent and capacity, but completely 
 lacks the energy to make of the Philharmonic Society that 
 which a Philharmonic Society ought to be, or at the least to 
 attempt being. 
 
 The other musical institution which then existed in New 
 York, was, as I have previously mentioned, the Italian 
 Opera. My connection with music in the New World com- 
 menced with this, — an establishment whose "failure" had 
 flourished for the last five and twenty years. 
 
 An involuntary smile curls your lip. Tou inquire how a 
 "failure" can "flourish?" 
 
 My dear Berlioz, you were born and have been educated 
 in the Old World. This accounts to me for your smile. 
 You have yet much to learn ere you will be able to compre- 
 hend the New one. "Bursting up" is here an old-established 
 rule of the Italian Opera — a rule which admits of no ex- 
 ceptions. Remember, I speak from a long and personal 
 experience. Yet, although continually " bursting up," Italian 
 opera flourished in the United States, and what is more, 
 still continues to flourish. 
 
 But the object of my present letter is not to record a his- 
 tory of all these failures. It is, on the contrary, purely per- 
 sonal. Let me, therefore, tell you that are anxious to learn 
 something of the establishment with which I was to be con- 
 nected, my first evening in New York was passed at the 
 Astor Place Opera House, where, per interim, an irregular 
 company was then performing Rossini's " Barbiere." 
 
 Most agreeably was I surprised on entering this small but 
 comfortably arranged bon-boniere. It contained somewhere 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 15 
 
 about 1,100 excellent seats in parquet (the Parisian par- 
 terre), dress circle and first tier, with some 700 in the 
 gallery. 
 
 Its principal feature was that everybody could see, and 
 what is of infinitely greater consequence, could be seen. 
 Never, perhaps, was any theatre built that afforded a better 
 opportunity for the display of dress. Believe me, that were 
 the Funambules built as ably for this grand desideratum, 
 despite the locality and the grade of performances at this thea- 
 tre, my conviction is that it would be the principal and most 
 fashionable one in Paris. 
 
 Now, the Astor Place Opera House had been built barely 
 a year before my arrival in New York, as the programme 
 or prospectus issued to the subscribers announced, " for the 
 permanent establishment of Italian opera'' in this city. 
 Nothing of it now remains save the external walls, internally 
 containing lecture and reading-rooms, library and stores; 
 with the above permanently established phrase, which printers 
 keep stereotyped for the programme or prospectus of all 
 managers and proprietors, whether they be present or future. 
 
 But from my admiration of the house, I was aroused by 
 the first notes of the overture to the " Barbiere." 
 
 The orchestra consisted of about thirty-six performers on 
 their individual instruments. They had a leader, Signor 
 Lietti, who did not apparently consider it necessary to indi- 
 cate the movement by beating the time. On the contrary, 
 he was occupied Tn playing the first violin part, fully uncon- 
 scious of the other instruments in the orchestra. But I 
 wrong him. In order to guide them, he was possessed with 
 the monomania of playing more loudly and vigorously upon 
 his fiddle than any of his subordinates. He trampled on the 
 floor as though he had been determined to work a path 
 through the deal planking, and made a series of the most 
 
16 EETELATIONS OF AN 
 
 grotesque faces with his nose, mouth and eyes. If you 
 have ever seen a Nuremberg nut-cracker in full operation, 
 you will enter into my feelings as my eyes were riveted on 
 what appeared to me the extraordinary mechanism of this 
 individual. In the mean time, the other fiddlers not being 
 willing to allow Signor Lietti's violin a greater prepon- 
 derance of sound, exerted themselves with a purely musical 
 ferocity, which you have never seen equalled. I have, 
 (although it must be owned, not often) upon this side of the 
 Atlantic. It was necessary, however, that Lietti should be 
 heard by the wind-instruments. He therefore . began to 
 scrape his fiddle. For a moment I actually imagined that 
 he had succeeded. But until then, I had not been aware 
 that " diabolical possession" had survived the time of the 
 Apostles. It has, my dear Berlioz, and the players upon 
 stringed instruments are indisputably subject to it. Bossini, 
 had he listened to them, would have been of my opinion. 
 After the first eighty bars of the allegro movement, you 
 would, had you been there, upon shutting your eyes, have 
 undoubtedly believed that you were surrounded by a series 
 of saw-mills in vigorous operation. Under such circum- 
 stances, the leader could not of course be heard. They soon 
 came out of time (how could they keep it ?) and confusion 
 ensued. Everybody felt himself individually called upon to 
 restore order. A squeak from the piccolo would be heard, 
 followed by a loud squall from all the wind-instruments, try- 
 ing to indicate a place for re-union. Then came a broad- 
 side from the trombones and horns, to restrain the already too 
 far advanced violins. It was in vain. The screech from 
 the first trumpet was of no use. Even the kettle-drum 
 player, who began to beat the right time fortissimo on his 
 instrument, was totally unable to stay the confusion. Each 
 one went his own way, and made his own speed. Rossini's 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 17 
 
 delicate overture was treated by them, as history tells us 
 that some unfortunate criminals were treated in the Middle 
 Ages. These were tied by arm and leg to the hind-quarters 
 of four wild horses, which were then driven by the scourge 
 in different directions. It will be needless to hint to a man 
 of your erudition, what followed upon this proceeding. 
 
 At last, straggling and worn out, one after the other, some 
 few completely distanced, and Signor Lietti by no means 
 first in, they terminated the overture. The audience bestowed 
 upon them a round of applause, and the leader demonstrated 
 by three low bows, his intense satisfaction both with himself 
 and the public. 
 
 After having heard Almaviva, Mosina and Basilio, it be- 
 came unmistakably evident to me, that none of them would 
 ever produce a revolution in the musical world. They will 
 therefore, in all probability, hate me henceforward for neglect- 
 ing to tell you their names. Such, do I grieve to say, is too 
 frequently musical gratitude. It was but shortly afterwards 
 that I retired, instinctively feeling, rather than knowing, that 
 there were several good musicians in the orchestra, who only 
 wanted purgation and a thoroughly earnest and intelligent 
 conductor to be rendered really available and valuable as its 
 members. 
 
 It was my intention on the following morning to look after 
 the choral department, and, on inquiry, I discovered that 
 the rehearsals of this portion of the troop took place in a 
 store-house situated on the East River, in which the car- 
 penters, tailors and painters all worked. This having been 
 arranged by the manager, in order to keep them all under 
 the vigilant superintendence of his homme de confiance, who 
 rejoiced in the grandiloquent title of " General-Intendant of 
 E. P. Fry's Opera." Let me assure you that his Intendance 
 was a very general one. He being at one and the same 
 
18 BEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 time, secretary, stage-manager, head-carpenter, husband to 
 the first tailoress, and, I was about to say, head cook and 
 bottle-washer to the establishment. This, however, would be 
 going too far, and I apologize for the involuntary injury to 
 his reputation my pen had almost done him. 
 
 What was my amazement, when on visiting this store, I 
 found that it contained no more than one large room ! 
 
 The carpenters were busily hammering in it, the tailors 
 accompanied their labors with nigger-songs, while at the 
 same time, such of the chorus as were inclined for work, 
 were studying and rehearsing their parts. As for the chorus 
 master, he seemed to be an early riser — a very early riser to 
 one who had been accustomed to London and Parisian life, 
 for although it was then barely ten o'clock, he had very 
 evidently been already " laboring in the vineyard." Some of 
 the male members of the chorus, on my arrival, were occu- 
 pied in a game of cards with the " General Intendant" of 
 Mr. Fry's Opera. It may consequently be presumed by 
 you, my dear Berlioz, that he was evidently a man of 
 decided genius, and had already got through his multifarious 
 and most curiously coupled duties for the day. In the mean 
 time, a few of the ladies employed in the chorus, were 
 dividing their attention with an impartiality of the most 
 praiseworthy character between an operation commonly 
 called mending their stockings and the study of their parts ; 
 while others of a somewhat more staid and elderly appear- 
 ance, were engaged in an earnest conversation with two of 
 the tailor-boys, of which I heard enough, to form an idea 
 that it touched upon the stipulations for a private treaty of 
 commerce, in which the purloined silks and calicoes of Mr. 
 Fry were most certainly destined to play a very prominent 
 part. 
 
 On inquiring mor.e narrowly into the condition and consti- 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 19 
 
 tution of the chorus, I discovered that the " General Inten- 
 dant," alone, did not rejoice in a curious combination of avo- 
 cations. 
 
 Some few of the choral-singers, such, for example, as a 
 certain Signor Pauselli, were also engaged in the tailor- 
 ing department, while a tailoress rejoicing in the euphonious 
 name of Valvasori, enjoyed the distinction of being secured, in 
 addition, for the chorus. This subdivision of personal proper- 
 ty was by no means conducive to the undisputed maintenance 
 of peace. Occasionally, it would give rise to a serious dis- 
 pute between such important functionaries as the head- 
 tailoress and the chorus-master, touching the right which this 
 one alleged to the throat and lungs, and that other to the eyes 
 and fingers of these enigmatical beings who were half tailor 
 and half vocalist. Need it be said, that having been accus- 
 tomed to the European school of operatic management, and 
 being totally unacquainted with the "go-ahead" style in 
 which theatrical matters were carried on in this country, my 
 eyes expanded upon all around me with a purely involuntary 
 amazement ? Could it be possible that I was really and truly 
 awake ? Was it not rather some hideous nightmare which 
 had taken possession of my sleeping faculties ? Determined 
 to prove this, I seized upon a needle which the Signor Pau- 
 selli had left in a half-finished doublet, while engaged in look- 
 ing for his choral part, which had ingeniously been extracted 
 from between his person and the seat of his chair by some 
 one who had lost his own, and inserted it vigorously into the 
 fleshy part of my arm. This was done, in the positive 
 hope, my dear Berlioz, of awakening myself from slumber. 
 Indeed, it was effected with such good-will, that I doubt not, 
 were my arm curiously examined, the scar of that wound 
 might be found upon it, even at this long lapse of time. 
 
 Suffice it, that I did not awake. All that was around me, 
 
20 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 was but too truly and too indubitably, nothing but fact, and 
 honajide flesh and blood. 
 
 Indeed, everything which I had as yet seen, appeared to 
 me to demand a complete and thorough reformation. 
 
 But to apply the besom of the reformer to the abuses 
 which existed, demanded the hand as well as the will of the 
 manager. This manager, I had not yet seen. To me, he 
 was at this period, a myth, and I determined accordingly 
 upon reducing him, as soon as possible, to a reality. Making 
 my egress therefore from the atelier of the tailors, and the 
 studio of the chorus-singers of the Astor Place Opera House, 
 I bent my way to the address given me as that of its lessee. 
 This was Mr. E. P. Fry. When I arrived at the house in 
 question, I sent in my card, and was speedily admitted. He 
 was in his private apartment, and was arranging his wig 
 when I entered it. As he turned towards me, an uncomfort- 
 able foreboding of his failure in his present undertaking 
 came over me, which was probably produced by his personal 
 appearance. It would, very certainly, never have induced 
 me to suppose him an operatic manager. He had the gene- 
 ral appearance of a gentleman, combined with some degree 
 of oddity; and apparently, none of that peculiar finesse which 
 invariably associates itself with our ideas of an unprofessional 
 operatic director. A finesse, by-the-by, which had always 
 stricken me as the most evident characteristic of the head of 
 Mr. Lumley, the last European manager with whom I had 
 been connected. 
 
 Appearances, however, are very often deceitful in the ex- 
 treme, and I refrained from at once permitting myself to form 
 a judgment of his capacity. 
 
 His reception of me was gracious enough, and we soon 
 entered into conversation, which naturally turned upon the 
 prospects of the approaching season. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 21 
 
 He was very evidently a well-intentioned man, my dear 
 Berlioz, and what is infinitely rarer, a well-meaning mana- 
 ger. Unfortunately, he knew nothing whatever of the busi- 
 ness he had entered upon, and had but small experience in 
 active life. The principles of operatic management which he 
 ingenuously avowed, were indeed so naive, that they abso- 
 lutely commanded from me a large amount of sympathy. 
 He exhibited in his plans no symptoms of real and manly 
 energy, although a considerable amount of obstinacy suffered 
 itself to become occasionally visible. 
 
 But let me jot down to you the leading portions of our 
 conversation. It may prove to you, that however details 
 may differ, the same main features characterize operatic 
 management in every portion of the world. What these are, 
 you know to the full as well as I do, and consequently, it 
 would here be useless to specify them. 
 
 Mr. Fry informed me that he had engaged for his approacn- 
 ing season, Signor TrufB, Signor Benedetti and Signor Rossi, 
 three popular singers, and all of them great favorites with 
 the New York public. He, however, not liking them, had 
 sent his brother, "W. H. Fry, to Europe, for the purpose of 
 engaging others. I gently hinted to him, that any favorite 
 artists with the public, whether good, bad or.indifferent, are 
 in a managerial point of view, a source of fortune, and should 
 on no account be superseded until the public are wearied 
 with them, or their own demands upon the management 
 become too enormous to admit of a reasonable prospect of 
 profit from their further engagement. 
 
 " That may be all very well," was his reply, " as far as 
 regards their merit. > But these artists refused to sing under 
 the former management of Sanquirico and Patti, in an opera 
 written by my brother." 
 
 In consequence of this, I was left to imagine that the 
 
22 EETELATIONS OF AN 
 
 aforesaid brother -was now sent out, to engage such artists a3 
 might be able as well as willing to perform his compositions. 
 
 At the same time, I learned that my manager had only 
 abandoned his former vocation as book-keeper in a large com- 
 mercial house, for the purpose of establishing opera through 
 the compositions of his brother. He being then and now 
 fully and completely convinced, that his brother is absolutely 
 destined not only to become the generator of melody, and the 
 harbinger of the golden era in music on this side of the earth, 
 but also the dictator of its present progress throughout the 
 world. 
 
 Alas ! my dear Berlioz, you might tell him how hard and 
 impossible a work this is, after Art has once taken its first 
 impetus in its true direction. How much genius and how 
 large an amount of love have you lavished upon a somewhat 
 similar object ! You have begun to make the downward 
 descent in life, and, haply, when you are over-ripening on the 
 far side of sixty, the public may begin to feel that a great 
 master is slowly passing away from them. Such are the 
 earthly chances of a reformer, and such you have, in a cer- 
 tain shape, been. Such are the worldly prospects of an in- 
 ventor, for such in music you undoubtedly are. Mr. Fry 
 then knew, anieven now, suspects not that it is so. Will his 
 brother ever learn this secret ? 
 
 Speaking at some length upon the public and the press, 
 my manager further declared himself a- personal and im- 
 placable enemy of James Gordon Bennett, the Editor of the 
 New York Herald. In saying this, he also seized the oppor- 
 tunity to inform me, that he not only intended to exclude 
 him and any of the staff of his journal from the Opera, unless 
 they paid at the door, but also announced his determination 
 of never advertising in any paper with which James Gordon 
 Bennett might in any manner be connected. 
 
OPERA MANAGES IN AMERICA. 23 
 
 Now, at this period, the Herald was to New York almost 
 that which the Times is to London. It was, in point of fact, 
 a necessity. 
 
 " Oh ! miserable man," I thought to myself, as he men- 
 tioned this ; "what are you thinking of? Do you wish to 
 undermine the very artists that you tell me are favorites 
 with the public, by not announcing their performances in a 
 paper which you admit has a larger circulation than any 
 other which is published in this city, or indeed which may 
 be published in the Union ? 
 
 Whatever the intrinsic merits or demerits of the journal 
 in question might be, this seemed so extraordinary, that even 
 while restrained by courtesy from expressing my disapproval 
 of such a course, I could not avoid asking him what might be 
 the reason for his entertaining such a decided enmity as he 
 then evinced. 
 
 Upon my putting this question, he told me that some time 
 since, Mr. Bennett had written, or caused to be written, 
 some severe critical notices of his brother's opera of "Leonora," 
 which had been produced in Philadelphia. 
 
 You know, my dear Berlioz, that half a drop of Croton oil 
 will for a time completely disorganize the digestive faculties. 
 In like manner the meanest trifles will at times produce the 
 most violent effects ; and, causes which appear to be harmless, 
 may not unfrequently bring about the most terrible results. 
 
 Some four thousand years, more or less, since, a fashion- 
 able lady dwelt in Greece, who was a great beauty. Her 
 name was Helen. Now this Helen took it into her head, 
 being already a married woman, to get up a private flirtation 
 with a dashing young Trojan scamp named Paris. This 
 common, although immoral, proceeding upon her part, has 
 resulted in one continuous chain of events, calamities and 
 catastrophes up to the present day, which catastrophes, 
 
24 EEVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 events and calamities will in all probability continue for four 
 thousand years to come, should this round world last so 
 long. 
 
 I seem to feel your laugh. It encourages me to continue 
 my parallel. 
 
 "Without this flirtation, there would very certainly have 
 been no abduction. Abductions at all times have had evil 
 consequences. 
 
 Had the abduction never taken place, the Greeks might 
 never have besieged Troy. Now had Troy never been be- 
 sieged, it would very certainly not have been taken. Un- 
 taken, iEneas would never have run away from it with his 
 paternal progenitor on his back. Had he not run away, as 
 fast as he could, thus burdened, the pious son of Anchises 
 would never have dreamed of establishing himself in a 
 foreign land, to which he had no title, as a colonist ; and, 
 consequently, his descendants could not possibly have founded 
 Rome. 
 
 Without the existence of the seven-hilled city, it is more 
 than probable that we should have had no universal empire. 
 
 But for the existence of that universal empire, what 
 chance would the past have presented for the establishment 
 of a Roman Catholic and Apostolic church? Had that 
 Roman Catholic and Apostolic church never been begotten 
 in the womb of Time, the world would neither have had 
 popes, nor the Inquisition, auto dafes, cardinals, archbishops, 
 nor Jesuits. Without Jesuits and archbishops, what, you 
 must permit me to ask, would have possibly become of the 
 Irish ? But for the existence of the Irish as a nation, we 
 might never even have heard of the name of Archbishop 
 Hughes. In his absence, is it not clear that Know-Nothingism 
 would speedily have died a natural death, that is, if we pre- 
 suppose it ever to have been born ? 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 25 
 
 Who, therefore, can tell what in the next four thousand 
 years may be the united consequences of popes, Irish, arch- 
 bishops, Jesuits, Know-Nothings and Young America? 
 
 Permit me to call your attention, my dear Berlioz, to the 
 progressive influence which Helen's most immoral escapade 
 has had over all our affairs, religious, social or political, upon 
 this side of the globe. 
 
 Now, precisely and exactly in the same manner as that m 
 which Helen's faux pas had operated to cause such an 
 aggregative amount of trouble, had the development of his 
 musical taste in the brain of W. H. Fry, scattered the seed 
 of what has turned out a very pleasant and agreeable musical 
 quarrel, to those by-standers who have either nothing, or 
 have had nothing at all to do with it. 
 
 His opera of " Leonora" was most undoubtedly the sole cause 
 avowed by his brother for rushing into management. Par 
 parenthese, I may observe that his management offered me 
 the " engaging" inducement which led to my quitting Europe. 
 This operatic management originated a new series of operatic 
 quarrels, (you shake your head and say with sorrow, " We 
 have already had enough of these,") inaugurated a succession 
 of assaults and batteries, law-suits, judgments and executions, 
 libels and defamations, literary and musical emeutes, as well 
 as gave birth to a newspaper war of some nine years stand- 
 ing, in which angry broil, more ink has been spent and more 
 brain been used up, than all the blood which was shed, and 
 the lives which were sacrificed in the wars of the Greeks and 
 Trojans. Indeed, the battle was waged with such virulence 
 upon either side, that New York itself was divided into par- 
 ties. One class of society in it which consists of "upper 
 tendom," and bears a spurious sort of consanguinity with the 
 Faubouvg St. Germain and the West End upon youj^side of 
 the ocean, was taught to regard the opera, or I should say, 
 
26 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 any opera so long as it was Italian, as one of the paramount 
 necessities of life. Another and a larger class remained, who 
 were more democratic in their tendencies. Partly because 
 the opera was an expensive amusement, suiting more partic- 
 ularly those who have long purses, and largely influenced 
 by the tone of the Herald, these look upon it as an anti- 
 republican institution, and unhesitatingly condemn it. It 
 would therefore seem, that after nine years of quarrels, law- 
 suits, and public and private warfare, only the first act of this 
 drama has as yet been completed. Musical speculation has 
 suffered, and operatic taste has been nipped in the bud, sim- 
 ply because A. H. Fry chose to write an opera which he 
 placed upon the stage, and James Gordon Bennett had not 
 musical knowledge enough to appreciate it, or lacked that 
 musical ignorance which alone could have enabled him, as I 
 have been told, conscientiously to puff it. 
 
 Yes, my friend, in this part of the world we have made 
 one very decided advance upon your ancient half of it. A 
 conscientious puff may be met with here, as a man may 
 occasionally meet with a conscientious " smashing.'' An 
 acquaintance has more than once suggested to me, that this is 
 because musical criticism is entirely unknown as a science 
 amongst us. Indignantly, do I repudiate this suggestion. 
 Are we not, by several inches, the tallest nation under the 
 sun, and is itvto be for one moment supposed, that critically 
 we do not understand everything ? 
 
 But I presume that you would like to know something 
 about James Gordon Bennett. You mutter to yourself, 
 " What a devil of a fellow he must be." You are about to 
 question me respecting his mental, moral, and physical 
 nature. 
 
 Allow me to tell you, my dear Berlioz, that such questions 
 would be very difficult for so unintellectual an individual as 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 27 
 
 myself to answer. Some imagine him to be a moral ogre 
 wh6 digests reputations, artistic or political, as a honafide one 
 would make his meal of a ragout d'enfans, or a potage des 
 jeunes Anglais. There are others, however, who assert him 
 to be a totally misunderstood and infamously underrated 
 Christian philosopher. One would say that he enjoys little, 
 so keenly, as the pulling to pieces public character, while a 
 second praises the courage with which he has applied the 
 knife to a moral ulcer upon the body politic. Here, he is 
 possibly accused of the wanton destruction of private happi- 
 ness ; and, there he is warmly hailed as the undaunted advo- 
 cate of popular liberty. This man will accuse him of having 
 violated the secret sanctity of the domestic hearth, while the 
 other will congratulate him upon having uncapped a hidden 
 moral baseness. Some have named him the " Satan" of the 
 New York press, while others have styled him its " Napo- 
 leon." These assert that he takes " black mail" from every- 
 body who fears his pen. Those, it is well known, have been 
 turned out of his office for having simply attempted to bribe 
 him. 
 
 Should you still wish to have my opinion of this man, I am 
 ready at present to give it to you. 
 
 You say that you do. I therefore prepare to jot it dowr*. 
 It is this. James Gordon Bennett is neither more nor less 
 than the New York " Diogenes." 
 
 You laugh, but let me assure you that there is no jest in 
 this opinion respecting him, upon my part. Bennett is, in 
 this comparatively new American Republic, and almost as 
 modern New York, precisely that which the philosopher of 
 the Cynic school was in the old Greek Commonwealth of 
 ancient Athens. The only differences which mark the two 
 men, are the differences of time, place, progress, and circum- 
 stances. Had the first-named preceded the last, in point of 
 
28 EEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 time, and been born in Athens, be would have taken up his 
 lodgings in the classical cask now hallowed by the memory 
 of Diogenes. He would have excluded himself by that very 
 act from fashionable society, for how could fashion tolerate 
 the man who lived in a tub ? With a lamp in his hand, in 
 broad daylight, he would have wandered through the streets 
 of Athens in search of an honest man, always a somewhat 
 difficult article to find. In a word, Bennett would have been 
 the genuine and identical Diogenes. 
 
 But the last-named, if he had come to New York some 
 twenty years ago, would have done nothing of all this. No ! 
 Berlioz, I feel positively convinced that he would simply 
 have started a newspaper. 
 
 He would most indubitably have selected a corner-house 
 in Nassau or William-street for his business domicile. Con- 
 sequently, the fashionable world would exclude him from 
 their society. " Upper Tendom" would know him not, nor 
 would he have cared two straws for knowing " Upper Ten- 
 dom." Lifting his rod over their backs, he would have 
 castigated their sins. Taking his paper in his hand, he 
 would have gone forth in search of money. Believe me, 
 when I say that he would have done right. Money at the 
 present day outvalues a dozen honest men. Therefore is it, 
 that I tell you the Diogenes of the New World is most un- 
 doubtedly the identical and genuine James Gordon Bennett. 
 Nature has undoubtedly refused him an advantageous per- 
 sonal appearance such as she bestowed on the Admirable 
 Crichton, D'Orsay or Beau Brummell, but in return for 
 her penuriousness in this respect, she has gifted him with a 
 rare talent for observation. Quick and penetrating in his 
 judgment, he has of course discovered in the human race 
 amongst whom birth and the will of God had chanced to cast 
 him, much more to censure and to ridicule than to praise 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 29 
 
 and to admire. Have you and 1 not made the same dis- 
 covery, my friend, long since ? 
 
 On starting the New York Herald, he undertook singly 
 and unaided to sweep away the whole of that filth and mud 
 which had for so many years gradually accumulated on 
 politics, arts, commerce and fashion in this section of the 
 world. Scarcely, however, so fortunate as the son of the 
 Thunderer, who managed to cleanse the Augean stables, he, 
 on the contrary, bears some resemblence to the daughters of 
 Danaus. The more that he sweeps from the one side, the 
 larger amount of moral filth rushes into, and, perforce fills 
 the other. 
 
 Sometimes it may also have happened, that in his toil, 
 after a day's hard sweeping, a remnant of dirt and some bad 
 odor might remain about him. Such accidents, my dear 
 Berlioz, will happen to every reformer. 
 
 This feature of direct antagonism to every abuse, as well 
 as his constant and most successful labor to acquire the 
 earliest news ere steamer and telegraph had placed it within 
 the reach of all, have by degrees ensured his paper a pro- 
 digious circulation. "His enemies buy and reafl it to see 
 whether they have been attacked. His friends do the same, 
 that they may get for two cents, a shilling's worth of fun ; 
 while the great bulk of the population, invariably the most 
 acute judges of that which is really good, secure an early 
 copy for the sake of learning all the current as well as 
 acquiring the earliest news. 
 
 Now, this was the man whom my manager had with a 
 sublimely heroic pugnacity, selected as his enemy. It would 
 almost seem, as though Destiny had called me across the 
 water to New York, to view their encounter. 
 
 You must now allow me to tell you something of the 
 
30 EETELATIONS OF AN 
 
 artists whom Mr. Fry was preparing to undermine, and who 
 therefore must naturally become his enemies. 
 
 The Signora Truffi was a lady singularly prepossessing in 
 her appearance, and of the most distinguished manners. 
 Had you looked on her abundant fair hair, and sunned your- 
 self for a moment in the glance of her bright and azure eyes, 
 you would rather have believed her some sentimental 
 maiden from Northern Germany, than an Italian Prima 
 Donna. Judged simply as an artist, she was one of that kind 
 which seldom palls upon the ear, but never electrifies the 
 soul of the listener. She rendered certain parts which do 
 not admit of a fiasco, such as Elvira in the " Ernani," and 
 Jjucrezia Borgia, well, carefully avoiding all she imagined 
 might not suit her capacity. In quality her voice was a rich 
 soprano, and she had considerably augmented its register by 
 a careful musical cultivation. 
 
 Benedetti had a manly and robust figure. Indomitable, 
 energetic, quarrelsome as a gentleman who has recently 
 come from the South of Ireland, conceited with the inevitable 
 self-approval of a first tenor, and cunning as either a monk 
 or a weasel, he possessed a strong voice. Its degree of cul- 
 tivation was extremely mediocre. Did he chance to sing a 
 false note, or commit an error in intonation, he would look 
 daggers at some unoffending member of the orchestra, or if 
 the humor seized him, publicly rebuke an innocent member 
 of the chorus, for the purpose of inducing the public to be- 
 lieve that one or other of them had dragged him into a false 
 key. Whenever he could not keep time, he had the trick of 
 beginning to beat it himself, although he literally never 
 knew the difference between a six-eight and a two-four 
 movement. This- was for the purpose of showing the 
 audience that the fault, supposing they discerned it, lay 
 with the conductor. You may imagine that such a vocalist 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 31 
 
 was an almost priceless tenor. Yet he, for so Mr. Fry had 
 told me, was a favorite with the public. 
 
 The basso, Signor Rosi, was a big man, standing, at the least, 
 six feet in his stockings. He measured some thirty inches 
 from one shoulder to the other, and trod the stage with all the 
 dignity of a great artist. His greatness, however, was in the 
 extent of his person, rather than in his vocalization. Before 
 he commenced singing, he would draw a long breath, put 
 himself in a fighting attitude, and then rush to the footlights. 
 Your expectation would have been raised to the highest 
 pitch. Alas ! my good Berlioz, his singing realized the 
 ancient Latin proverb, "parturiunt montes, nascitur ridi- 
 culus mus," which is so admirably translated by the philo- 
 sophic inhabitants of Dutchland, into " nix komm, raus." 
 
 Now, it so happened, that I imagined Mr. Fry had con- 
 fided to me a great secret in telling me his intentions to 
 render these three artists disponibUs. Never was a man 
 more completely mistaken. Like many would-be managers, 
 my present one neglected the first principle of diplomacy, 
 and by no means retained his secrets locked within his own 
 breast. In consequence of this unpardonable mistake upon 
 his part, the artists speedily became well acquainted with the 
 nature of the musical mission which he had intrusted to his 
 brother. Indeed, they were as thoroughly cognizant of the 
 whole of its details, as the manager himself was. 
 
 A triple league was accordingly formed between Truffi, 
 Rosi, and Benedetti, against the gentleman who was, at this 
 time, at the head of operatic affairs in the Astor Place. At 
 the head of this tripartite alliance, Mr. Bennett kindly consent- 
 ed to operate. This was for the purpose of defending the legi- 
 timate rights of his allies, against the aggressions of one who, 
 although advertised as their ally and manager, was in truth 
 their secret foe. 
 
32 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Soon after, having gradually become conscious of their in- 
 expugnable strength and value, these three powers, greatly 
 reinforced by the support of the Herald, determined upon 
 going further. Their object was apparently to establish a 
 new religion, of which Truffi, Benedetti, and Eosi, were to 
 be the Musical Trinity. A post was kindly kept open by 
 them for Mr. Bennett, under the nomination of their prophet, 
 although it may reasonably be considered, more than doubtful, 
 whether he was ever aware of their design to inaugurate him 
 into such a distinguished position. Vocalists, as you well 
 know, my dear Berlioz, are generally intolerably vain. 
 
 The first opera which was placed in rehearsal, was the 
 "Norma" of Bellini. Delicate Trufii, who by no means felt 
 herself strong enough to render the part of the Druidical 
 priestess to the satisfaction of the public, begged at rehearsal 
 my influence and interference with the manager, to induce 
 him to substitute another opera for her debut. It was proba- 
 bly concluded by her, that as a new man and one mixed up 
 with the intrigues of neither party, for or against the manage- 
 ment, my representations might have some effect. Such a 
 mission was flattering enough. I accordingly repaired to Mr. 
 Fry, and represented to him the risk which he ran in suffer- 
 ing any doubt to rest upon the success of his opening 
 night. 
 
 It is impossible for me to say, whether he would really 
 have relished a, fiasco on the part of Truffi, but very certainly, 
 his eyes twinkled ominously behind his spectacles, as he lis- 
 tened to me. 
 
 The circumstance, however, that his general-intendant had 
 already disbursed $800 for the bear-skins of the Gallic 
 soldiers, with other cogent pecuniary reasons, may have forced 
 him to " go-ahead" — as we say, with a classic energy, my own 
 Teutchland and your France are lamentably deficient in. 
 
OPEKA MANAGES IN AMERICA. 33 
 
 Certain it is, that " Norma" remained upon his programme for 
 the opening night. Nevertheless, like a prudent captain, he 
 thought over my application, and prepared for the worst, en- 
 gaging, upon my advice, Madame Laborde, who had just 
 arrived, for one or two months, until his brother should bring 
 out a new cargo of operatic stars. 
 
 This lady was a capital prima donna. She possessed a 
 flexible voice of great compass, had an astonishing execution, 
 and was in every sense of the word, a finished artist. 
 
 Our first night was announced for Philadelphia, for in this 
 country, my friend, at the time I am speaking of, New York 
 was by no means its musical capital. This position was, in- 
 deed, jointly held by three cities, Boston and Philadelphia 
 being the other two, who severally assigned and ratified the 
 position to be held in the United States by any vocalist. 
 Nay, a fourth large city lay in the extreme South, whose 
 judgment declined conforming with any of these. This was 
 New Orleans. A French opera pretty constantly existed 
 there, in the season which was free from yellow fever, whose 
 artists were never, or at any rate, very seldom heard in the 
 Northern States. 
 
 You say that this was too republican a style for cultivating 
 musical taste, as thoroughly as it should be cultivated. Be- 
 lieve me, that in entertaining this opinion, my dear Berlioz, 
 you are wrong. All Art is republican in its nature, and Music 
 made a more rapid and early growth in the United States, 
 when it was thus diffused, than it has lately done, since it has 
 gradually become more centralized. 
 
 Meanwhile, the chorus and orchestra had undergone much 
 of that reform which I had found absolutely necessary, and 
 had been brought into a tolerably fair condition. You are 
 aware that whatever amount of material is at your disposal, 
 
 an orchestra such as Habeneck's was, or a chorus equal to 
 
 2* 
 
34 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 tie one at the German opera in Vienna, are not the chance 
 formation of a day. 
 
 Printed orders had been sent to all their members, to meet 
 at a certain hour and place, for the departure to Philadel- 
 phia. 
 
 Now, these orders were headed thus : — " General Inten- 
 dance of E. P. Fry's Grand Opera of the United States," 
 and had a splendid aspect to those who received them. This 
 aspect was however doomed to dissolve, which it did very 
 speedily after our arrival in the " Quaker City/' as it is here 
 called. 
 
 On the road, we were all excitement, in spite of the dis- 
 comfort of the railway cars. You are astonished to hear 
 one who has become a citizen of this "glorious" country, speak- 
 ing thus of anything in it. But, my dear Berlioz, I have 
 heard many Americans affirm that New Jersey is no part of 
 this Union. This railroad runs entirely through New Jersey, 
 and I therefore feel completely at liberty to censure it, with- 
 out at all rendering myself amenable to the censure of a 
 want of due patriotic feeling. 
 
 We arrived at length at our destination, and the day 
 announced for the performance of "Norma" dawned upon 
 us. 
 
 But there are some few impossibilities in this world, which 
 cannot be overcome. Amongst these, may be reckoned the 
 attempt to make an elephant execute a pas seid upon the 
 tight-rope ; the endeavor to make a vessel sail in the teeth 
 of a sharp north-easter (the Flying-Dutchman always ex- 
 cepted ; or the idea of stopping a cannon-ball when once 
 discharged from the tube that held it, on the application of a 
 match to its priming) with a sheet of blotting paper. All of 
 these are simple impossibilities. But, there is one which is 
 
OPEKA MANAGEK IN AMERICA. 35 
 
 more impossible still. This is the belief that you can make 
 & prima donna sing, when her mind is made up not to do so. 
 
 The house was full ; the overture had been played by the 
 orchestra ; the tenor had sung his cavatina ; and the- blonde 
 and bewitching Truffi appears upon the stage. A tremen- 
 dous reception is awarded to the Norma of the hour, who 
 receives it as a really savage prima donna invariably receives 
 applause, with a tender grace that is truly touching. She 
 sings a few bars of the recitative, staggers, and falls upon 
 the stage, fainting. Druids, call-boys, and Eoman soldiers, 
 rush towards her. Oroveso brings a glass of cold water, and 
 Adalffisa applies a smelling-bottle to her nose, but she does 
 not move. PolKo calls on his Italian gods in no very choice 
 Italian ; a cockney carpenter vents an oath such as are sworn 
 upon the banks of the Thames, and nine-tenths of the male 
 chorus swear as lustily in German as the lanz-knechts were 
 wont to do. As for the parquet, it shrieks with laughter ; 
 from the boxes breaks a storm of hisses, while the gallery 
 hoots in wrath or yells with delight at the unwonted spectacle. 
 Mr. Fry is about to rend his hair, but thinks better of it as 
 he remembers that he wears a wig. The curtain comes 
 down, and the manager walks before it, announcing that " in 
 consequence of Signora Truffi's sudden (he lays an ugly em- 
 phasis upon this word) indisposition, the money (here, I 
 thought I heard him groan) would be returned, or the tickets 
 (in saying this, his face recovered from its previous gloom) 
 might be retained for the next performance." 
 
 So ended the first night of the season in Philadelphia. 
 
 On the same evening, a rehearsal of "L'Elisir d'Amore" 
 is ordered ; and, by the most unremitting exertions on the 
 part of all, excepting the delinquent Truffi, was produced on 
 the following day. Madame Laborde appeared in it, and 
 achieved a triumph. Indeed, this artist, alone, might be said 
 
36 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 to have carried through the remainder of the brief season, 
 which only lasted some four weeks. 
 
 Several weeks slowly elapsed after we had returned to 
 New York, without bringing our manager any intelligence 
 from his missing brother. Poor houses but ill supplied the 
 treasury, and salary-day was an artistic festival that occurred 
 but twice in one month. Positively convinced that nothing 
 but W. Fry's " Leonora," or the "Norma" of the luckily dead 
 and buried Bellini, could revive the drooping fortunes of the 
 establishment, Mr. Fry, therefore, ordered the latter compo- 
 sition once more into rehearsal. This time, my good Ber- 
 lioz, to use a common and somewhat vulgar saying, he danced 
 " out of the frying-pan into the fire." 
 
 There is an anecdote which so strongly illustrates his posi- 
 tion, that I am unable to refrain from calling it to your 
 memory. Moreover, although it has*been translated into and 
 adapted by all languages, it is, I believe, specifically a French 
 anecdote. 
 
 Once upon a time, (the old-fashioned style of commencing 
 a tale actually deserves veneration), a French, not a Parisian 
 vocalist made his debut in a provincial city. Those who 
 were in the Loges, received him with an ominous silence, 
 while the denizens of the parterre, as well as the more ele- 
 vated portion of the house, amused themselves with aping 
 his acting, and imitating his very peculiar style of singing. 
 This endured some time, when they began to call him all 
 sorts of names. ■" Leather-lungs " and a " cracked pair of 
 bellows," were among the mildest which they offered to him. 
 The wife of the miserable vocalist was standing in the wings, 
 and near her was the stage-manager. Tnis official seeing 
 that the aforesaid wife was very good-looking, was; in conse- 
 quence thereof, filled with commiseration for her feelings. 
 
 " My dear madam," he said, in a tone of the most profound 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 37 
 
 pity, as he took her white hand in his own, " you must take 
 courage." 
 
 " Why must I, monsieur ?" was her unexpected reply. 
 
 " You know that an artist cannot succeed everywhere." 
 
 She smiled in the most engaging manner, and the stage- 
 manager consequently continued; 
 
 " Our puhlic has the most absurd pretensions to taste and 
 critical knowledge." Here he squeezed her taper fingers. 
 " You must take it pleasantly." 
 
 " Oh ! don't be alarmed for my nerves," replied the spouse 
 of the ill-treated tenor. "lam more than satisfied with your 
 public." 
 
 "Indeed!" - 
 
 " I am even touched by their most exemplary politeness." 
 
 The stage-manager opened his eyes, and was so astonished 
 that he forgot to admire her. 
 
 " In every other city where my husband has sung, he has 
 been pelted with rotten oranges or kicked off the stage. 
 Here, on the contrary, he is allowed to sing. I assure you, 
 that to me, the change is perfectly delightful." 
 
 Now, in precisely the like manner, would the "Norma" in 
 Philadelphia have been " delightful" to Mr. Fry, supposing 
 that it had followed the results of the " Norma" in New York. 
 
 No sooner was the rehearsal for this opera ordered, than 
 Signor Benedetti became violently sick, while the amiable 
 Trufii positively refused to sing the part for the first time in 
 this city (neither is she greatly to be blamed for so doing) 
 with the supplementary tenor, Signor Arnoldi. But Madame 
 Laborde, who was not simply a clever singer, but an astute 
 and crafty diplomatist, had in the meantime been occupied in 
 closely studying the principal role in this opera. Deter- 
 mined to take advantage of the chance given her by Truffi's 
 refusal to play it, she immediately volunteered to take her 
 
38 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 part with the supplementary tenor included. Mr. Fry im- 
 mediately accepted her offer. 
 
 Only imagine the tapage which ensued when this became 
 known. The musical Trinity had been more than com- 
 pletely outwitted. 
 
 Upon the first notice that Laborde would sing in the 
 " Norma," Benedetti forgot that he was sick, and appeared in 
 the operatic world again. He was ready to rehearse his 
 part. With a wisdom that I confess I should scarcely have 
 given him credit for, the Manager fearing his propensity for 
 mischief, politely invited him to remain sick until further 
 orders. Benedetti growled, but was perforce obliged to obey. 
 The result of the first performance was that Madame La- 
 borde created a perfect furore as the Druidical priestess, 
 while the supplemento very narrowly escaped the fate of the 
 French tenor, whom I a few moments since recalled to your 
 remembrance. 
 
 A repetition of "Norma" was accordingly loudly demanded, 
 but with Benedetti in the part which Arnoldi had filled. 
 The fair Truffi was for the moment completely forgotten. 
 
 It was on a stormy evening in December, that the operatic 
 Napoleon entered the dressing-room of our king of modern 
 tenors. He found him painting his face. In the first place, 
 the two monarchs glanced at each other. Their glances 
 were such as a lion and a tiger might exchange, in measuring 
 each other's strength. The Napoleon of the Opera exulted, 
 like a successful Machiavel, over his last demonstrable 
 success, that of having vanquished the queenly Truffi. On 
 the other hand, the prince of tenors was literally burning 
 with indignation, and panting to avenge his blonde ally. 
 
 After a moment of awful silence, the Napoleon of the 
 Opera said, with that laconic brevity which distinguishes 
 him — 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 39 
 
 " Friday, "Norma."— You, Pollio 1 " 
 
 These four words were pronounced very slowly, and with 
 an expression which would have caused a tremor in any 
 other than the king of tenors. 
 
 Passing quietly a damp towel over the rouge upon his 
 cheeks and the lamp-black upon his eye-brows, he calmly 
 responded — 
 
 "Never." 
 
 "Never?" 
 
 " Neve-e-e-e-e-r ! " 
 
 "Why?" 
 
 " Arnoldi has taken the part. It is, and must remain his 
 property." 
 
 " He took it, simply because you were sick." 
 
 " Only at your request. I was sick, simply to oblige you." 
 
 " But the public wishes specifically to hear you with 
 Madame Laborde." 
 
 " Have the kindness .then, to inform the public that the 
 principal tenor of this operatic troupe only sings with the 
 queen of prima donnas." 
 
 " That, sir, shall certainly be done." 
 
 Having registered this declaration, the Napoleon of the 
 Opera rushed out of Benedetti's dressing-room, and dashed 
 upon the stage. He appeared before the astonished audience 
 as unexpectedly as the ghost of Banquo rises through the 
 trap at Macbeth' s banquet, and, apropos des bottes, announces 
 to the public who had assembled in the Astor Place Opera 
 House, to hear and quietly enjoy " Lucretia Borgia,'' that 
 Benedetti had positively refused to sing in " Norma'' on the 
 Friday following. 
 
 Before any one could understand what this extraordinary 
 announcement might mean, he has vanished from the stage, 
 and again stands before Benedetti. 
 
40 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 "Waving his hand, he grandiloquently exclaims, " I have 
 now given you your deserts."' 
 
 " Then I will now give you yours, you puppy and liar," 
 replies the incensed royalty. 
 
 So saying, he draws his sword, and attempts with the 
 flattened side of it (the edge was as blunt as stage swords 
 invariably are) to castigate the Manager. 
 
 A fierce struggle ensued. Unhappily, my dear Berlioz, 
 (remember that I say this as one of the unlucky race of 
 Managers), the prince of tenors soon found the Napoleon of 
 the Opera entirely in his power. Turning him round, he 
 administered a kick to his enemy. It took effect in that part 
 of his body where the completed dorsal bone terminates, and 
 the leg has not yet begun. With its force, he was sent three 
 or four paces beyond the limits of Benedetti's dressing-room. 
 
 His equilibrium had been so forcibly disturbed, that he 
 plunges out of it, and falls upon the boards. He is totally 
 unable to resume the offensive with so powerful an opponent, 
 and Benedetti remains the victor. 
 
 A committee of the subscribers who had heard the state- 
 ment of the Manager, then repaired to Benedetti to inquire 
 into its truth ; and what think you was his response ? 
 
 With true Italian subtlety, he informed them that he had 
 never dreamed even for one moment, of refusing to sing the 
 part of Pollio. " Oh ! dear, no ! " he only required that 
 some sort of apology should be made to Signor Arnoldi, 
 " who was a very admirable singer.'' I leave you to imagine 
 the spirit in which this last observation was made by Bene- 
 detti. You, who know, even better than I do, the hatred 
 with which an Italian vocalist looks upon all who in any way 
 supplant him or her, even for a moment, will be at no loss in 
 divining this. 
 
 Satisfied with the expression of willingness to sing, upon 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 41 
 
 the part of Benedetti, the committee retired, and left Mr. 
 Fry to enjoy the fruits of the declared enmity which he had 
 so wantonly provoked. 
 
 The public, however, are invariably the supreme judges 
 in all matters of this description, and they were by no means 
 so readily appeased. They had not heard the tenor's 
 Italian and soapily improvised explanation. Simply did 
 they understand, that the Manager as well as the vocalist 
 were both in the wrong. The Manager, very decidedly so, 
 by his perverse interruption of the quiet and orderly per- 
 formance of the " Lucretia," for the purpose of making an 
 accusation of insubordination against one of his principal 
 singers. This was when, be it remembered, he had yet 
 eight and forty hours before him. In this period of time, he 
 might very certainly, had he so chosen, have exhausted the 
 various diplomatic means of persuasion which were at his 
 disposal, before adopting the harsh and compulsory measure 
 of appealing to the public. The error of the tenor was at 
 the least as obvious. He had no right, upon his first impulse, 
 to positively refuse singing at the side of an excellent and 
 most estimable artist, whom, with a purblind insolence only 
 to be found in Italian vocalists, he believed not equal to his 
 own degree of merit. 
 
 Accordingly, upon the Friday evening in question, three 
 distinct parties were to be found in the Astor Place Opera 
 House. 
 
 These were the personal friends of the Manager, those 
 who supported the refractory tenor, and the public. 
 
 The first of these came simply and purely for the purpose 
 of hissing Benedetti and sustaining Mr. Fry in his attempt 
 to control him. This was, it must be confessed, my good 
 friend, a very praiseworthy example of private friendship. 
 The second of .the three parties were the friends of the 
 
42 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 culprit. These appeared on this night with the purpose of 
 doing precisely the contrary. This, you must graDt, was at 
 the least, to the full as praiseworthy. But the public also 
 chose to be present en masse. A part of them undoubtedly 
 came with the simple view of enjoying the row which was 
 expected by all, a virtuous pleasure which is in general 
 keenly appreciated by them. The remainder had, however, 
 paid their money solely to have the satisfaction of giving a 
 lesson to each of the belligerents. 
 
 Plans for the evening's campaign had been arranged be- 
 forehand by either of the two first parties. 
 
 Benedetti, who would be exposed to the primary outbreak 
 of the popular indignation, artfully fomented by the friends 
 of the management, was prepared with a lengthy speech. In 
 it, he would touch upon every possible point of accusation 
 against him. He would explain, modify, denounce, entreat, 
 bully, and apologize — appealing to the well-known generosity 
 and kindliness of the public, while he announced his thorough 
 good will, and asserted his at the least as thorough good faith 
 towards the management. In fact, it was a very common- 
 place, every-day sort of theatrical speech, with which he had 
 primed himself — a sort of oration which the public, friend of 
 mine, ought long since to have known by heart, but by which 
 it is still content to be deceived on almost every occasion. 
 
 Thus read the programme issued from the camp of the 
 Manager. 
 
 Benedetti was by all means to be hissed off the stage. 
 Then, when the confusion had reached its highest point, Mr. 
 Fry was to appear before the audience. After a flattering 
 reception, he was to address the audience, and request, as a 
 personal favor, their pardon for Benedetti. Was it not at 
 once obvious, that all who were present would say," What a 
 noble-hearted, fine and generous fellow we. now have for a 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 43 
 
 manager ! " After this, he would give utterance to a few 
 modest remarks, composed expressly for this occasion, and 
 then retire, followed by a sedulously prolonged and deafening 
 . cheering. 
 
 Now, let us see what really chanced upon this evening. 
 
 The house was crammed from the top to the bottom. 
 Every seat was taken. The avenues in the parquet were 
 thronged by those who had been attracted by the scandal. It 
 wasa nother proof, my dear Berlioz, that Art is by no means 
 the principal thing to be cultivated by a management that 
 would rejoice in attracting large audiences. 
 
 "When the introduction was over,* Benedetti appeared. He 
 was immediately greeted by a storm of hisses, which were as 
 quickly broken in upon by thunderous acclamation. This at 
 length stilled, and he began to sing. That man, however, 
 who would have heard a note after he had touched the first 
 bar, must have had good ears. Screams, whistles, clapping 
 of hand hisses, trampling of feet, roaring, menacing outcries 
 and gesticulations of every kind filled the theatre. You 
 might have imagined that the inmates of some half a hun- 
 dred mad-houses had broken loose, and crowded it upon this 
 occasion. To catch a note from the Orchestra, was as im- 
 possible as to listen to the singing. After a brief time, chaos 
 having roared itself hoarse, began to shape itself into some 
 intelligible form, and a few cries of "Order! order!" were 
 occasionally heard. 
 
 " What order ? " retorted the friends of the manager. " Off 
 the stage with the rascal ! " 
 
 " No ! no ! Go on, and give us a tune," roared the public. 
 
 "Order! order!" 
 
 " Off the stage with him ! He would n't sing when we 
 wanted him. He shan't sing, now." 
 
 * The Opera on this occasion was of course the Norma. 
 
44 REVELATIONS 01? AN 
 
 " Apologize to Fry." 
 
 " Fry be d — d ! Apologize to Madame Laborde." 
 
 " Never mind Laborde ! Apologize to the public." 
 
 " The Public does n't want an apology." 
 
 " Give us a song." 
 
 "Yes! yes! 'Yankee Doodle!'" shouted a portion of 
 the public. 
 
 " We don't want ' Yankee Doodle.' ' Carry him back to 
 Old Virginey.'" 
 
 "Order! Order!" 
 
 For some time, Benedetti stood all this very quietly. 
 Occasionally, he would open his mouth with the attempt to 
 sing. It was perfectly hopeless, and his lips would close 
 again almost as quickly as they had separated. At length, 
 he advanced a few steps, and performed a curious specimen 
 of pantomime, supposed to be expressive of his desire to 
 speak. As you and myself both know, the public is at all 
 times a curious animal. Its curiosity at present, therefore, 
 restored order. But this order menaced Mr. Fry's pro- 
 gramme of proceedings with 'the destruction of its utility. 
 He and those of his friends who were with him, behind the 
 scenes, trembled, lest by these means their own tactical 
 arrangements might be turned by their astute enemy against 
 themselves. 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen !" said Benedetti, " I came here to 
 sing — " 
 
 "So you did!" 
 
 ""Why the deuce don't you, then?" 
 
 " Give us ' Yankee Doodle ! ' " roared out a voice from the 
 gallery. 
 
 Benedetti gazed on the audience with an air of unabashed 
 majesty, as he mildly inquired — • 
 
 " Shall I sing or withdraw?" 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMEBICA. 45 
 
 "Sing!" 
 
 "Withdraw!" 
 
 "Yes!" 
 
 "No!" 
 
 "Yes! Yes!" 
 
 "No! no!" were the cries and screams that broke from 
 every part of the theatre, while in the same roar from the 
 gallery — 
 
 " Give us ' Yankee Doodle !'" was again heard. 
 
 "No! No!" 
 
 "Yes! Yes! Yes!" 
 
 Now, whether this " Yes ! yes ! " applied to singing or with- 
 drawing, or the vocalization of " Yankee Doodle," it would 
 be impossible to say, and Benedetti stood for a moment com- 
 pletely nonplused. 
 
 To correct his misappreciation of their desires, he there- 
 fore repeated the question ; and, drawing himself up in a 
 graceful and expressive position, was preparing to proceed 
 with the rest of his previously prepared speech, when the 
 acuteness of one of Madame Laborde's friends frustrated his 
 intention. This was Monsieur Nourrit, an old stager and 
 old Stage-manager, who, seeing the turn matters were about 
 to take, pulled the wire and gave the signal for dropping the 
 curtain. Down it at once came, between the internally irate 
 and externally most pacific tenor, cutting short any further 
 colloquy between himself and the public. 
 
 With a brief compliment to Nourrit for his strategic skill, 
 Mr. Fry settled his new pair of spectacles securely upon the 
 bridge of his nose, and rushes out to the foot-lights. 
 
 But what was his astonishment to find that the flattering re- 
 ception indicated in his programme was by no means accorded 
 him ! There must have been some unaccountable error com- 
 mitted by those to whom his arrangements had been entrusted. 
 
46 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 * 
 
 He gazed wildly around the house, but hisses, cat-calls, and 
 objurgations couched in the most derogatory terms, were all 
 that could be afforded him. In his horror, he would not even 
 have endured it as long as Benedetti had done, but for the 
 suggestions of some of the members of his Orchestra. These, 
 with a keen relish for his most unmistakable nervousness, 
 encouraged him not to leave the battle-ground. At length, 
 agitated and trembling, he was permitted to stammer out his 
 speech, hissed by the friends of the tenor, applauded by his 
 own, and laughed at by the public, after which the perform- 
 ance was allowed to go on. 
 
 Never, possibly, had Benedetti or Laborde sung better, and 
 very certainly, never was there a greater amount of merri- 
 ment elicited from its hearers by any farce, than was then called 
 forth by the lyrical tragedy of " Norma.'' 
 
 Nay ! It would have seemed that on this evening scarcely 
 an American was present who did not understand Italian. 
 The slightest bearing upon the private affairs of the vocal- 
 ists, into which the words of the Opera, or the acting might 
 be tortured, was immediately taken up by the audience. Witty 
 commentaries were passed from one to the other upon it, and 
 received with unbounded merriment. In the scene in which 
 Pollio speaks about Norma, in the finale to the first act when 
 Norma reproaches Pollio, and in the Duo when she tells him 
 that at length he " is in her hands," the most ludicrous ex- 
 clamations were heard from the gallery, and immediately 
 caught up by those who were in the parquet and boxes. 
 But, when in the last scene, Pollio implored Norma to par- 
 don him, and the exclamation — 
 
 " Ah ! troppo tardi, ti ho conosciuto," bursts from him, the 
 merriment of the public could no longer be repressed, and the 
 Opera concluded amidst a general outburst of laughter from 
 the public, the Chorus, and the Orchestra, in which, even Fry's 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 47 
 
 and Benedetti's personal friends were, almost against their 
 will, obliged to join. 
 
 The former gentleman made money upon this evening, but 
 it brought the Opera House into bad repute, while he him- 
 self incurred a large amount of personal discredit, even 
 amongst his own friends. Bennett, also, consecrated a cer- 
 tain amount of space in his columns, daily, to the abuse of 
 the Opera. It may safely be affirmed, my dear friend, that 
 this was the only thing which induced the public to visit the 
 establishment. Such things, you and myself have seen, Ber- 
 lioz, even in Europe. Indeed, had our Manager answered 
 and attempted to refute the daily charges brought against 
 him by the Herald, I entertained, and still entertain not the 
 slightest doubt, but that he could. have turned the excitement 
 caused by these articles greatly to his own advantage. How- 
 ever, he preferred to keep his wrath smouldering, and was 
 wont to say, in answer to my hints upon the advisability of 
 entering upon a more retaliatory course, 
 
 " Never mind. Mr. Bennett shall pay the piper, and I will 
 dance. I shall sue him for heavy damages." 
 
 Thus, with an amount of nerve and a degree of equanimity 
 for which you ought to award him a large degree of moral 
 credit, he suffered himself to be daily abused and ridiculed. 
 While doing so, he nevertheless jotted down each truculent 
 jest or aspersion in the note-book of his memory. Bitter 
 words and savage sneers were rated by him as so much cash. 
 It was an agreeable mode of rectifying the balance-sheets of 
 a speculation which had undeniably turned out ill. An 
 imaginary twenty thousand dollars turned the scale of opera- 
 tic chances greatly in his favor. 
 
 In the meantime, the season was advancing rapidly. No- 
 thing, however, had yet either been seen or heard of W. H. 
 
48 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Fry and the new vocalists, with whose importation from 
 Italy he had so obligingly charged himself. 
 
 Not a single day passed, but his expectant brother sent 
 messengers, or should I not call them envoys, down to Castle 
 Garden, to scan the Bay and bring him the first intelligence 
 that could be obtained of these long-desired artists. . But 
 alas ! it was useless. Nothing was either to be seen or heard 
 of them. 
 
 Like the ultimate wife of the ferocious "Blue-Beard," 
 who stationed her sister on the top of " Blue-Beard's castle," to 
 inform her of the first glance she might catch of her long- 
 expected brothers, demanding every moment — 
 
 " Soeur Anne ! ne vois tu rien 1 " 
 
 and receiving to every question the invariable answer — 
 " Rien ! " he waited in daily increasing doubt and agony for 
 tidings of his relative. 
 
 Seriously, my good Berlioz, it appears to me that in his 
 short career as an operatic Manager, he had already paid 
 more than enough of heart-burning and more purely physical 
 evils for the calling which he had so rashly entered upon. 
 
 At length, in the last week but one of the season, Mr. 
 Fry received a letter. It brought the long expected and 
 grievously delayed intelligence. Success had crowned the 
 efforts of the Manager's musical brother. As for the time 
 which had been employed in the selection of the desired 
 artists, it, combined with the reputation of the agent as a 
 musical critic of the first water, as well as the object which 
 he had in view, the performance of his own operas with 
 these artists, admitted of no doubt with regard to their 
 excellence. 
 
 If any one, animated by a very pardonable degree of 
 curiosity, inquired the names of the new vocalists, the 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 49 
 
 Manager would purse up his lips, and with a look of the most 
 vigorous mysification, say — 
 
 " That must remain a secret until their arrival." 
 
 The knowing smile which followed this diplomatic announce- 
 ment — for you see, my good friend, that the Chevalier Henry 
 Wikoff was by no manner of means the first diplomatist in the 
 New York managerial market — indicated that New York 
 should very certainly be surprised this time. Daily, there- 
 fore, did this subtly nurtured secret increase, until it was a 
 full-grown and full-blown mystery. Eumors were sedulously 
 circulated that Mr. W. H. Fry had actually been successfully 
 employed in inducing Eubini and Persiani to visit America. 
 It was obvious that the blonde Trufn became perceptibly 
 paler as she listened to these ominous reports, while the king 
 of tenors quivered in his boots as he brooded over his pos- 
 sible dethronement. 
 
 However, the duration of this mystery was but brief. It 
 was solved by the arrival of the proximate steamer, upon 
 which, the daily journals announced the arrival of the follow- 
 ing new artists for the Italian Opera. 
 
 Your ears, I intuitively feel, my amiable- Berlioz, are 
 widely distended. 
 
 You wish to know the names of those vocalists, under whose 
 skill a new and native composer was to be ushered upon the 
 boards before a New York public. Can it be possible that 
 you have not yet heard of them ? Nay ! I know you have. 
 Is not Paris one of the centres of musical Europe ? Such 
 names as those of the Signori Ferrari, Tafl'anelli, and 
 Castrone, as well as that of La Signora Fascioti, cannot he 
 unknown to you. These were the fair artists destined to close 
 the first operatic season with which I had been connected in 
 New York, with eclat. In addition to this, our Manager 
 counted, by producing the whole of the new vocalists on one 
 
 3 
 
50 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 and the same night, the last of the season, upon exciting an 
 enthusiasm which would justify him in announcing a new 
 season, with the prices of admission raised, at the least, fifty 
 per cent. 
 
 My advice was, it is true, proffered to him. Singularly 
 enough, it very considerably differed from that which his 
 deeper and more profound skill in the science of operatic 
 management had determined upon. I actually thought, my 
 friend, that it was unadvisable to produce them all at once 
 upon the same night. Consequently, I recommended him to 
 arrange their debuts to take place in succession. By this 
 means, at the least, so it appeared to me, he would in all 
 probability, have secured four good houses instead of one. 
 Moreover, he would, in addition to this, have avoided the 
 inevitable nervousness of four debutants unacquainted with 
 the public and in a strange country, as well as unaccustomed 
 to sing with one another. 
 
 Convinced of his infallibility, the Manager announced 
 to me that I was decidedly wrong, and I of course immedi- 
 ately believed him as completely as any of his employes 
 could believe in such a Manager. 
 
 Consequently, " Ernani" was announced for the last night 
 of the season, and for his own benefit, the four principal 
 parts being confided to the above-named four artists. 
 
 The house was crowded almost to suffocation, when the 
 curtain drew up. In order not to appear too late, I should 
 presume, upon the stage, the tenor, Signor Ferrari, appeared 
 full five minutes before his cue was given. Here he waited. 
 Exposed to the scrutinizing gaze of the public, his fright 
 momentarily increased. He trembled, as a mouse does 
 between the paws of a benevolent cat who means to have 
 some sport with him, before she puts him out of this world. 
 When he attempted to sing, his throat refused him its 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 51 
 
 service ; the perspiration washed out his painted face, and 
 trickled over it in red and brown drops ; he grew terribly 
 pale, and exhibited rather the appearance of a suffering 
 martyr in his last agony, than that of the bandit-chieftain 
 who was the successful rival in love of Charles V., on whose 
 wide kingdom the sun never couched, and consequently could 
 never rise. 
 
 In New York, my friend, we have ordinarily a far more 
 gentle and generous public than you have in Paris. It is 
 indulgent to a degree with almost any novelty. 
 
 In the present instance, therefore, it allowed his attempt 
 to sing to pass in silence. Their judgment, however, was 
 only postponed. 
 
 The Signora Fasciotti appeared in the next scene. Self- 
 possessed, in striking contradistinction to the tenor, she appeared 
 arrogantly conscious of her merit as well as of her beauty. 
 Such was, at any rate, the first impression she produced. 
 But when she sang, all this was unmercifully knocked upon 
 the head. Her voice produced a precisely similar effect upon 
 the ear, which an edgeless razor might produce upon the 
 skin. Scarcely had she ended her cavatina, than a certain 
 rumor was distinguishable in the gallery, which might, by 
 an attentive student of nature on a larger scale, have been 
 compared with that rolling of the waves which is said by 
 those who study such matters, (you know that I do not, my 
 dear Berlioz), to be the precursor of a storm. But the act- 
 ing and singing of Taffanelli, the barytone, calmed down the 
 moving elements, and all might yet have gone on smoothly, 
 but for the appearance of the new basso. This was the 
 vocalist rejoicing in the name of Signor Castrone. Very 
 evidently had he never, before been upon any stage. On his 
 entrance, he tumbled over his own sword, and rolled into a 
 terrified group of chorus-singers. After this, he managed to 
 
52 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 get his spurs entangled in the dress of the prima donna, 
 and when released by the intervention of her lady in waiting, 
 found his way to the prompter's box. Thence, no incident 
 of the plot and no suggestion of the conductor could induce 
 him to move. Beating his time with one hand and one leg, 
 and counting the rests in his music audibly enough to be heard 
 by the whole audience, there did old Sylva remain until the 
 curtain fell upon the first Act, amidst general laughter, far 
 worse for debutants than hisses. 
 
 The second and third Acts followed, in the same way, and 
 with the same result. 
 
 Ferrari trembled and was inaudible. Fasciotti screamed 
 in a mode that would have rendered her invaluable, in 
 breeches, as a shepherd in the Pyrenees, while the poor 
 Castrone met at every step with some new and unforeseen 
 difficulty. Had he his sword to draw, it stuck in the scab- 
 bard. Would he sheath it, he could never find the aperture 
 through which he might pass its point. If he was to enter 
 upon the right side of the stage, and those who were on the scene 
 were looking in that direction, it was morally certain that he 
 would appear behind them. Did they prepare for such a 
 chance, then he might be seen coming on from the right 
 entrance. When he knelt down, some part of his dress was 
 certain to crack ; and had he to rush out sword in hand, he 
 would find all the doors of the stage closed. Then, after run- 
 ning to all of them in a devil of a hurry, he would with a re- 
 markably Parisian shrug of the shoulders, subside into quie- 
 tude, and walk coolly off through the wings. Taffanelli was 
 the only artist of the four that might have come off, creditably. 
 
 But, unfortunately, the worst, or should I not say the best, 
 for it ranks in my memory as one of the grandest musical 
 farces, I have ever seen and listened to, my dear Berlioz, 
 was reserved for the last Act. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 53 
 
 This capped the events of the evening with a climax. 
 But I feel compelled to beg of you to believe that I am in- 
 venting nothing which I am recounting. The whole of it is 
 undeniably too true. 
 
 Emani had at length been united with Elvira. Lapped 
 in dreams of future happiness and bliss, they were retiring 
 from the festival, when the fatal horn is heard from the other 
 side of the painted canvas. That sound recalls Emani to 
 the memory of his oath. For a brief period, almost does he 
 believe it the mere effect of his excited imagination. Then 
 for the second and third time its note rings upon his ear, and 
 Sylva rushes upon the stage to demand the fulfilment of the 
 vow which he had sworn. 
 
 I have intimated that Sylva rushed upon the stage. But 
 can you imagine in what guise the unhappy Castrone brought 
 him before the audience ? No ! you cannot. The decency 
 of your imagination altogether disowns such a possibility, and 
 I feel that I shall be obliged to tell you. 
 
 As I prepare to do so, although alone at my writing-table, 
 a crimson blush overspreads my modest face. 
 
 It creeps across my body, and along mine arms, until it 
 even dyes my fingers. They involuntarily redden like newly- 
 pulled radishes, as I recall that incident to my memory. 
 
 He (could I hide my face I would do so, Berlioz, did I not 
 luckily remember that you cannot see it) had forgotten what 
 the Erse or Northern Scotch, though which it is I have 
 suffered myself to forget, call their " gallygaskins." In 
 our own more fastidiously refined language, upon this conti- 
 nent, they are most generally and generically classified as the 
 " unmentionables." There he stood, representing the Spanish 
 idea of an Inexorable Fate, clad in- a black velvet doublet, 
 but with a pair of flesh-colored and closely-woven silk inex- 
 pressibles upon his nether man. The horn, that fatal horn, 
 
54 EEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 hung from his neck, in a position which it would be absolutely 
 impossible for me consistently with propriety to indicate upon 
 paper. Certainly, it was in anything but its right place. 
 Some of the ladies who were present, rose and quitted the 
 theatre. Others shrank back in their seats, and veiled their 
 eyes with the feathery ridges of their fans, or the delicate 
 lace of their handkerchiefs. Even the self-possessed and 
 resolute prima donna reddened through her well-laid-on 
 rouge, and dropped her eyelids over her bold eyes, while the 
 Conductor for once forgets the impassibility imposed upon 
 him by his position, and hurries up the Orchestra to the end. 
 At length Sylva offers to Ernani the dagger. In his eager- 
 ness to put an end to himself, and escape the ridicule of 
 which he felt conscious, the latter clutches at it. But, alas ! 
 the blade remains in Sylva's hand, and the lucklessly uncon- 
 scious Ernani, a martyr to misplaced confidence, is obliged 
 to dispatch himself with the scabbard. After this, the cur- 
 tain falls where it always does, leaving Ernani without its 
 drapery, and close to the foot-lights. The dead body sits up, 
 and gazes around it in speechless consternation. An uni 
 versal and irrepressible titter is heard throughout the whole 
 house. In its agony it" rises, and runs off from before the 
 audience. 
 
 Nor yet, my good Berlioz, have the mischances of the 
 evening fairly terminated. 
 
 A few of his personal friends insist upon calling Mr. Fry 
 out, as is ordinarily the case at the close of a season. In 
 consequence of this, the Manager makes his appearance be- 
 fore the curtain. Unfortunately, he was not gifted with that 
 presence of mind which is, I may safely say, a theatrical 
 Manager's most paramount necessity, and was unable to com- 
 pose a speech upon the spur of the moment suitable to the 
 occasion. He had, however, acquired a very graceful sped- 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 55 
 
 men of oratorical writing, by rote, which he forthwith de- 
 livers, talking about the " excellence of his new artists " and the 
 " intelligent enthusiasm of the public," as well as " the heavy- 
 expense which he had incurred to secure vocalists of such 
 unapproachable merit." Here the public laughed. After 
 this, he wound up by promising the lovers of music gene- 
 rally, and, his subscribers in particular, a new season, (!) 
 with advanced prices of admission, (!) in order to enable 
 him to recompense the unrivalled merit of such great artists 
 (!) as those whom he had now placed before them. 
 
 Your experience scarcely needs the information, that this 
 was very necessarily the last of Mr. Fry's management. He 
 was, beyond doubt, a well-meaning Manager, yet his obstinacy 
 and brotherly love, for the time, ruined him. 
 
 But one thing worse, my dear friend, can there possibly 
 be for any Manager than the having a brother who writes 
 Opera. This is, the writing it himself. 
 
 Possession was now taken of the Opera House by the pro- 
 prietors and shareholders. Applications' for the lease and 
 directorship of it were invited. Many of the habitues of the 
 Opera encouraged me to put in an application. At the first 
 I steadily excused myself, on the grounds that my means 
 were far too limited for such an enterprise. Induced, how- 
 ever, by a direct hint from the Committee who had the man- 
 agement of the property in their hands, and, let me own it 
 to you, with my ambition somewhat awakened, as well as in 
 no small measure deceived by the assurances of aid and sup- 
 port which were on all sides volunteered to me, I one day 
 declared myself a candidate for the lesseeship, and in a few 
 days more had forgotten having done so, or at any rate had 
 almost permitted it to slip from my memory. 
 
 In the meantime, the house was leased by Messrs. Hackett 
 and Niblo for a short season, with the intention of playing 
 
56 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 the legitimate drama, as tragedy and comedy are called here 
 and in England, although wherefore has invariably passed 
 my comprehension. Opera, farce, melodrama, and even pan- 
 tomime, being in my opinion to the full as legitimate enter- 
 tainments. Macready was the " star," upon whose reputation 
 these gentlemen intended to form, their season. 
 
 At this time, Macready the Englishman had a difference 
 of opinion, or controversy of some description, with Edwin 
 Forrest the American. 
 
 This purely personal quarrel eventually threw into shade 
 the Fry and Bennett row, assuming a proportion which en- 
 dangered the peace of New York, while it proved that the 
 Americans will always as a body stand by and enforce peace 
 and order. Indeed, in my opinion, I have always regarded it 
 as a valuable lesson, (although its necessity was greatly to be 
 deplored) to much of the rowdyism which was and is somewhat 
 too prevalent in New York. You ask me what " rowdyism " is, 
 my dear Berlioz, and had I faith in your retention of this letter, 
 I would tell you ; but were it to pass out of your hands and 
 find publicity, my explanation of this term might prove de- 
 trimental to me, as the " rowdies " generically fear nothing 
 and care for nothing. Therefore, I conscientiously feel that 
 it would be far wiser for me to hold my peace. The reason 
 of this difference between Forrest and Macready was as ridi- 
 culous as the cause of the Fry and Bennett controversy. It 
 was alleged by Edwin Forrest that Macready, or Macready's 
 friends, had hissed him during his engagements in England. 
 Therefore, he expected that his friends should hiss Macready 
 now. It was a pure deduction from the lex talionis. State- 
 ments and counter-statements had severally appeared. Ap- 
 peals and counter-appeals to the public had been published. 
 In fact, a terrible war (in vulgar English, it might, with the 
 greatest possible propriety, but for its results, have been 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 57 
 
 called a " shindy," with which term, you, my friend, can of 
 course have no acquaintanceship) raged upon this matter in 
 nearly all the newspapers of the Union, amounting, as I 
 have been very credibly informed, to something more than a 
 hundred thousand in number. 
 
 Supposing, my dear Berlioz, that the two artists had been 
 Italians, the difficulty would have speedily been settled ; but it 
 seemed that the members of the " legitimate " drama had a 
 "legitimate right" to kick up an "illegitimate row." They 
 did so. 
 
 The Astor Place Opera House was selected by them for 
 this inspiriting diversion. Like two giants, who prove their 
 strength by thrashing a third and innocent party, this theatre 
 was selected by Messrs. Forrest and Macready, to suffer for 
 their sins. 
 
 On the first appearance of Macready, he was most unmistak- 
 ably hissed off the stage by those who identified Forrest's 
 grievances with national injuries. A portion of the public, 
 called by the " Upper Ten" ihe " Lower Class," declared that 
 they would permit no English actor, no Italian Opera, and no 
 aristocratic theatre in New York, they being a free and en- 
 lightened people. That portion of the public, however, who 
 were called by the "Lower Class" the "Upper Ten," being 
 likewise a part of that free and enlightened people, declared 
 that they would have whatever amusement they chose to pay 
 for, whether it might consist of English actors, or of Italian 
 Opera. In accordance with which determination, a number 
 of gentlemen, of high standing in society, invited Mr. Mac- 
 ready to perform once more, taking the whole of the seats in 
 the house, and consequently refusing admission to the mass 
 of the general theatre-going public. This proceeding was 
 regarded by them as a positive defiance, and on the evening 
 in question (May 10th, 1849), more than 15,000 of them 
 ,3* 
 
58 KEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 surrounded the Opera House, and attempted to storm it 
 during the performance. The police-force which had been 
 provided, was not strong enough to resist so overwhelming a 
 force, and the military were therefore called out. That is to 
 say, the volunteer companies which constitute, under a differ- 
 ent name and with a different organization from that in Paris, 
 our National Guard. After vain efforts to restore peace, it 
 was unfortunately obliged, in order to save the building and 
 protect the audience collected inside of it, to fire upon the 
 crowd. 
 
 After several volleys, a few pieces of artillery were stationed 
 at the different corners of the Astor House, and this led to 
 the gradual dispersal of the mob. 
 
 The audience were then permitted to leave, (Mr. Mac- 
 ready, as I afterwards heard, had already fled,) and imme- 
 diately after, the Temple of Harmony was transformed into 
 a Morgue for the dead and a hospital for the dying, upon 
 either side. 
 
 Had the slain and wounded, my good Berlioz, been the 
 victims of political ambition, or religious fanaticism, the 
 authors would have paid heavily for this outrage upon the 
 public peace. As it was, everything remained or rather 
 merged into quietude during the following week. Macready 
 escaped to England, where he enjoys his money and his 
 laurels. Had he but done so two days earlier, how many a 
 life, to the full as valuable to the world as his, would have 
 been spared ! On the following evening, Edwin Forrest 
 appeared at the Broadway Theatre, where his appearance 
 was hailed by three cheers. To ensure him that triumph, 
 how many lives as valuable to the world as his, had been 
 sacrificed ! The people on that morning had gone to their 
 work, and save, in rare instances, where their affections had 
 sustained a personal loss, thought not of their fellows slain to 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMEKICA. 59 
 
 satisfy the " illegitimate" differences between two "legitimate" 
 tragedians. The citizen-soldier cleaned his musket, and 
 thought not whether its ball had been one of those which was 
 plumbed with death. 
 
 As for the poor Opera House, its doors were riddled with 
 balls, and its windows broken. Moreover, it was rebaptized 
 in blood with an ominous surname, having- been nicknamed, 
 the "Massacre" Place Opera House. 
 
 It was upon the morning following this gloomy and terri- 
 ble disturbance, that a communication from the Committee 
 was handed to me. This communication informed me, that 
 I was the " successful candidate for the lease and direction 
 of the said establishment." Under such circumstances, my 
 dear Berlioz, did I become its Manager. The blood of those 
 who had been borne into it, the night previous, had not yet 
 been scrubbed from its boards when it passed into my hands. 
 Believe me yours, most truly, 
 
 M. M. 
 
SECOND LETTER. 
 
 TO FIORENTINO, PARIS. 
 
 New York Fashions and Fashionables — James Foster, Jun. — Henry A. 
 Coith and others — Re-organization of the Opera — New York Critics 
 and Criticisms — N. P. Willis — R. de Trobriand and others — Fancy- 
 Dress Balls — Mozart's Don Giovanni — The first successful Opera 
 Season in New York. 
 
REVELATIONS OF AN OPERA MANAGES, ETC. 63 
 
 LETTER H. 
 
 TO FIORENTINO, PARIS. 
 
 New York, July 28, 1855. 
 
 Old Friend or Acquaintance : — 
 
 For which name I am now to give you, I am scarcely able 
 to decide. Separation and silence have, it is more than pro- 
 bable, done their work. So long, indeed, is it, since we last 
 set eyes upon each other, that it appears to me somewhat 
 dubious whether you will now recognize that Moravian 
 appellation, whose perverse consonants seemed, when we 
 were accustomed to meet daily, ever too difficult for your 
 Neapolitan tongue to shape into sound. Besides, Paris may 
 lay claim more than any other capital to be considered the 
 city of the moment. You live through ages in it, while other 
 portions of the green earth are counting only years. Dynas- 
 ties and revolutions bud, blossom, and die ; liberty is fought 
 for, acquired, and then put in the breeches pocket of some 
 successful operator upon the Bourse of society, while another 
 people are only dreaming of the changes which they need, or 
 another individual is only imagining that which he might 
 possibly attempt, in some far corner of the world. Charles 
 X. has long been forgotten. Nay ! he has passed entirely 
 
64 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 out of remembrance. Memory can scarcely recall the period 
 ■when Louis Philippe received his " walking-ticket." Lamar- 
 tine is heard of no more. The Republic is defunct, and 
 Cavaignac rules not. Louis Napoleon has been replaced by 
 Napoleon III. You have almost suffered Algiers to slip out 
 of recollection, and are engaged in dreaming about Sebasto- 
 pol. How, then, can I possibly have the consummate imper- 
 tinence to imagine that you retain the Moravian name of 
 Mas Maretzek in your Gallicized Italian memory ? 
 
 Tet, if you will allow me to recall to your recollection the 
 period at which you wielded the stiletto of musical critic 
 upon the Parisian Corsaire, a dim memorial, of one who 
 was then your friend, may float across your mind. 
 
 My pen was then employed upon the German Vorwaerts, 
 in a similar capacity. 
 
 A vague souvenir may be awakened of M. Boernstein and 
 his amiable family, as well as his partner, M. Bomstedt, its 
 two editors. You will, perchance, recall the pleasant even- 
 ings which we have passed with them, in the society of such 
 men as Heine, Marx, Rugge, and Marc Fournier, with others 
 of the would-be Reformers of society. Or, haply, you may 
 remember our mutual friend, the Marquis de Breme, with his 
 adorable blonde, Pauline, who had so charmingly naive a pen- 
 chant for getting married, and suffer your memory to fall 
 dimly back upon the little danseuses Viennoises, whose music 
 I wrote, Bernard Latte being verdant enough to buy it from 
 me, while yourself were amiably conscientious and actually 
 affixed your critical imprimatur to it. If you can do so — if 
 these memories have, in your Italian heart, bid defiance 
 to Parisian mobility, you will perhaps manage to remember 
 the writer of this letter. 
 
 Its object is to renew, if possible, my acquaintance with 
 yourself. You shake your head doubtingly, and ask me, 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 65 
 
 whether this is really its only object. My very amiable 
 Fiorentino, doubt is an exceedingly unfriendly proceeding 
 upon your part. You say — " why is it that I have so long 
 been silent ? " Are you determined, then, to give me no 
 credit for the possession of any friendly feeling ? Again you 
 shake your head, and your obstinacy compels me to make a 
 clean breast of it, owning that I wish, through you, to give 
 the artistic world a portion of " My Confessions." This will 
 comprise, my doubting and inquisitive friend, a narrative of 
 part of my own experience, and a description of taste as well 
 as fashion, in that part of the New "World called the United 
 States. 
 
 The most conflicting opinions are circulated abroad, and 
 more especially among artists, concerning America. Some 
 believe it to be a literal El Dorado, the Land of Musical 
 Promise running with rivers of milk and honey, instead of 
 streams that, like those in old Europe, contain nothing more 
 than clear water and a few speckled trout, admirable things 
 in their way, but somewhat few and far between. These 
 plant the land of their imagination with cities, like the Tharsis 
 of King Solomon, filled with gold, and silver, and ivory. 
 Their inhabitants are wealthy, confiding and generous, in the 
 extreme ; modern Croesuses, with the open heart and free 
 hand of some ancient Arabian patriarch. In fact, the wealth, 
 opulence, and prodigality of republican America, has become 
 proverbial with many of the inhabitants of Europe. Eecently, 
 the old English " Dew ex machina" of writers of Comedy, 
 who used to appear, in moments of extreme need, and settle 
 all difficulties by inserting his fingers in a prodigious purse, 
 or unclasping a plethoric pocket-book, has been wiped out of 
 theatrical existence by a retired American railway-speculator, 
 or a returned Californian gold-digger. 
 
 Others are there, however, to be found in Europe, who re- 
 
66 EBTELATIONS OP AN 
 
 gard America in a very different light. These believe it to 
 be inhabited by a set of savages, barbarians, and Eed Repub- 
 licans. In their opinion, it contains a race of people who eat 
 raw meat and devour uncooked vegetables, who chew tobacco, 
 and void their rheum upon ladies' dresses and Turkey carpets, 
 who drink unheard of quantities of brandy, schnapps, ale and 
 Monongahela whiskey, while, instead of having been provided 
 with a delicately palpitating heart like other races of mankind, 
 Nature has in its place inserted simply a silver dollar, coined" 
 in their own mint. 
 
 My good friend, this last opinion is most decidedly false, 
 whilst the first one is by no means accordant with truth. 
 
 Believe, my amiable Fiorentino, neither the one nor the 
 other. Calmly and discreetly survey and weigh us. Then, 
 take the juste milieu, and say — 
 
 " C tout comma chez nous." 
 
 Yes ! all things here, are as they are everywhere else. 
 More or less modified by Nature are they, or developed by 
 chance and circumstance. But I am wrong. There is no 
 such thing as chance. Let me correct myself, therefore, and 
 say they are more or less developed by circumstance. 
 
 Here, as elsewhere, society has fallen into its two natural 
 divisions, Aristocracy and Democracy, a quasi refined upper 
 portion, and the Plebs. However, American aristocracy is 
 not such as the English is, and the French was ere France 
 became progressive ; an aristocracy purely of birth, with some 
 slight and almost imperceptible admixture of talent. Neither 
 is it the purely poetical aristocracy of Art, Science and Intel- 
 ligence, such as the old Grecian was, nor one of Protection, 
 exclusively, like the antique Roman Patriciate. It is, simply, 
 an aristocracy of Money. Money is its Lettre de noblesse. 
 Money is the diploma of science and intelligence. By money, 
 you are protected and pushed on in the world, and in a purely 
 monetary ratio is the value of an American aristocrat to be 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 67 
 
 computed. Tou will undoubtedly perceive that this simplifies 
 in an extraordinary manner the value of an individual's stand- 
 ing amongst the " Upper Ten" on this side of the ocean. 
 
 The Democracy (pray observe, that I am here speaking in. 
 the purely social, rather than the political sense of the term) 
 has not the slightest difference in character from the so-called 
 Plebs in any other portion of the known world. Vary, it 
 may, in manners and decorous observances, but not in its radi- 
 cal nature. It is the same fine-hearted, noble-minded, hard- 
 working and stubborn race of men. Not rejoicing in the full 
 blood of the high-mettled racer, as it is far removed from the 
 dull and thistle-eating vitality of the donkey, it may be likened 
 to the laborious, but at times, impracticable mule. 
 
 To the American aristocrat, the most important matter, 
 after money, is fashion. After his daily bread, to the Amer- 
 ican democrat, the only desirable thing is amusement. Their 
 life may be summed up in three words. These are — " Panem 
 et Gircenses." 
 
 You will agree with me, Fiorentino, that the world, in its 
 democratic portion, has not changed much in the last eighteen 
 hundred years of its existence. 
 
 Fashion in America obeys the immutable law which has 
 been bestowed upon it from its first birth, when Eve, at the 
 instigation of the serpent, clothed herself in fig-leaves. It is 
 originated, kept up, quitted, resumed, revolutionized, restored, 
 put out of the way, found again and re-baptized by the ladies ! 
 
 Be quiet, my amiable Fiorentino, and allow me to write to 
 you in my own way. You ask me to give you some informa- 
 tion about the American ladies. How will it be possible for 
 me to impart any to you, which you would think reliable ? 
 You well know that I have always been conspicuous for my 
 bashfully retiring disposition. My internal modesty is so 
 great, whatever others may please to say of me, that it has 
 
68 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 always been with profound difficulty that I have constrained 
 myself to regard a female in the face, when I am forced to 
 talk with her. The compulsory nature of my professional 
 career has necessitated me in many instances to do this, but, 
 as yet, my bashfulness has remained invincible. 
 
 Besides, my friend, you have asked me an unpleasant ques- 
 tion. Let me assure you, that in my experience of life, one 
 woman is a more dangerous enemy than twenty men. Should 
 I chance in my modest ignorance to offend the female half of 
 the American nation, all would at once be over with me in 
 this portion of the world. Nothing would remain for me to 
 do, but to pack up, take my berth in the next steamer, and 
 return at once to Europe. 
 
 You still insist upon my giving you an answer. How is 
 it to be done, Fiorentino, by one who has never relished put- 
 ting forth his opinion on politics, woman, religion or cookery ?. 
 
 One man prefers a damsel with flowing auburn ringlets, 
 a blooming cheek, and deep blue eyes, swimming in pearly 
 moisture. Another relishes, with an even keener delight, a 
 plump turkey stuffed with pistachio-nuts. This man cleaves 
 to a religion which spunges out the whole of his sins in the 
 . confessional-box, and allows him, if he so chooses, to begin a 
 new score with a well-cleansed breast. That individual pos- 
 sesses a quiet and gustatory relish for the government whose 
 liberality permits him a respectable share in its spoils. On 
 the other hand, here is one, who never having by any chance 
 participated in the delight of drawing one red cent from the 
 public purse, anathematizes that government with a truly pic- 
 turesque delight. This Calvinist heartily abominates the 
 Confessional, and all that appertains to it, in any shape or 
 way. Here is a feeder in a more homely fashion, who gloats 
 upon a broiled rump-steak with fried onions ; while his friend 
 is possessed with the chastest of admirations for raven locks 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 69 
 
 and black eyes, gazing in whose slumberous depths he can 
 dream of a life of love and joy. 
 
 It must be obvious to you, that he who pretends to dictate 
 to these, is liable to be ostracized by all who do not agree 
 with him. 
 
 In order, if possible, therefore, to save myself from such 
 an unpleasant fate, I had scarcely attained the age of eighteen 
 than I shaped my creed, my political belief, and my taste to 
 suit everybody. In other words, I resolved to belong to all 
 tastes and creeds, political or spiritual, in a general way, but 
 to "none in particular. Therefore, I believe in God, and en- 
 deavor to do my duty, without calling myself Eoman Catholic, 
 Episcopalian, Member of the Greek Church, Lutheran, or 
 Presbyterian. In cookery, I make a point of relishing all 
 the delicacies of the season, or of either half of the earth 
 which is ■ at present amenable to the laws of civilization. 
 Halibut, prairie-hen, and bear-steak, are as warmly delight- 
 ed in by my inner man, as turbot, styrian, pheasant, and a 
 haunch of English venison were wont to be. To me, my 
 dear Fiorentino, all governments are highly respectable, al- 
 though I own a shadowy preference for that one which gives 
 the slightest sign of its existence. And as for the ladies, let 
 me own to you that but for my invincible modesty, I should 
 consider all of them, without any distinction of nationality, 
 ranging between blushing fifteen and ripened thirty, worthy 
 of my most particular attention. 
 
 Do you still insist upon my writing to you as I really 
 think? "Yes!" Do I hear you rightly? Well, then, I 
 suppose I must do so ; but in intrusting you with my opinion, 
 remember that I pledge you to the strictest secrecy. 
 
 In general, as far as a retiring and bashful man like my- 
 self is able to form his judgment, the American lady, saving 
 in her language, assimilates more to the French than to an 
 
70 KEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 English beauty. The femme eomme il faut, in New York, 
 lacks the physical consistency and solidity, as well as the art- 
 lessness of Albion's daughters. In revenge, however, for this, 
 she exhibits all the ease and grace, while she possesses all the 
 consummate taste and elegance of the Parisian dame from 
 the Faubourgs' St. Germain, or St. Honore. Artificially in- 
 structed, it has occasionally appeared to me that her igno- 
 rance is real. Full of elevated sentiments, she too often 
 sacrifices them to the claims of etiquette and worldly formality. 
 Rather infatuated in favor of an artist or an author, than en- 
 thusiastic in her love either of Art or of Literature — imprudent 
 in the first place, afterwards reflecting — she is deliciously co- 
 quettish at all times and in all places. In a word, the Ame- 
 rican lady has a young heart when she has attained the ripe 
 age of forty, but carries an old head upon her shoulders when 
 she yet counts no more than sixteen years upon them. Capa- 
 ble of the greatest sacrifices, nay ! of heroism for the man 
 she has honored with\her love, she is unable to speak well of 
 another woman. Her life is an admirable concentration of 
 passions, virtues, ambitions, jealousies, loves, mysteries, flirta- 
 tions, hates, disoppointments, and pleasures. These produce a 
 sort of poetic confusion in her own conscience, and render her 
 not only a problem to others, but an enigma, even to herself. 
 After years of internal struggles, therefore, worn out by the 
 doubt which has proved itself unable to afford her a solution 
 for the intricated and Gordian-like riddle of her own exist- 
 ence, in nine cases out of ten she" becomes religious, and in 
 the tenth instance sinks into literature. Whichever it may 
 be, from that moment she exhibits an open contempt, and 
 feels a secret dislike for the younger being, who is then doing 
 what she was wont to do, in her own person. 
 
 Two, qualities, however, it would seem to me that the 
 American lady almost invariably possesses and retains. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 71 
 
 These are a sound common sense in all questions which the 
 heart does not touch, and, at the same time, a natural appre- 
 ciation for the really grand and beautiful, which would seem 
 to be born actually in her nature. 
 
 To this circumstance is it, that the Americans, as a people, 
 are indebted for whatever has been done in this country for 
 artistic cultivation and progress, or for the refinement of life. 
 Hence it is, that up to this very day, the male portion of so- 
 ciety visit only in such houses, and patronize such artists and 
 productions as the ladies, in this respect very decidedly the 
 better half of them, have thought proper to seal with their 
 approbation and declare "fashionable." It is little matter 
 whether the gentlemanly section of New York society likes 
 this or that artist, whether it appreciates at all, either music 
 or pictures, or whether it thinks highly of this or that " lion." 
 Scarcely, even, is it necessary that the aforesaid "lion" should 
 have a mane or a tale, or that this picture or the melody in 
 question should be indisputably excellent. Sufficient it is, 
 
 that Mrs. T or the Misses B declare them to be 
 
 worth attention. Some exceptions may occasionally be met 
 with. There are gentlemen who have studied the world as 
 thoroughly, as a man with means and time at his command 
 can always do, but these do not govern taste. The ladies 
 alone do this, at any rate, so far as my limited experience, 
 controlled by my unfortunate modesty, has given me the 
 means of judging on such a subject. 
 
 Indeed, beyond the principal cities, it is the ladies alone 
 that patronize and love the Arts. These, alone, know any- 
 thing about them. 
 
 As an illustration of my opinion, you will allow me, my 
 dear friend, to give you an anecdote which actually occurred 
 under my own experience. 
 
 Some few years since, I sent two prima donnas of repu- 
 
72 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 tation, a clever pianist, and a celebrated lasso, on a concert- 
 tour. On arriving in a city in New England, the agent who 
 preceded them, found that the estimation accorded to these 
 artists in New York, Boston and Philadelphia, had hot yet 
 travelled there. They were comparatively unknown. After 
 some reflection, he therefore determined to make the names 
 of the composers, whose pieces were selected for the evening 
 of the concert, a larger feature in the programmes and posters 
 than those of the artists themselves. Consequently, the 
 names of the last-mentioned appeared in small type at the 
 head of the bills, while those of Handel, Bellini, Beethoven 
 and Mozart, occupied the most conspicuous places in them, 
 and rejoiced in the most sizeable letters that the printing- 
 office of the little town was enabled to furnish* 
 
 The trick, if trick that could be called which was intended 
 to impose upon no one, and very certainly imposed upon 
 none of the female half of the inhabitants, succeeded. 
 
 Two-thirds of the audience were ladies, but the other third 
 of it, which would decidedly not have come to hear anything 
 that anybody could sing, provided that anybody was unknown 
 to them by reputation, consisted of gentlemen. But imagine, 
 my good friend Fiorentino, what was my agent's intense as- 
 tonishment on the following morning, when, on wishing to 
 settle the hotel-bill for the artists, he found these strange 
 items on that which was handed to him by the very gentle- 
 manly official standing behind the desk of the principal hotel 
 in the place : 
 
 " Mr. Mozart, Eoom, Meals, "Wine, &c. &c. . . $5 75 
 
 Mr. Handel, Do, Do, Do, . 7 50 
 
 Mrs. Bellini, Room, Meals, Bath and Carriage, 9 00 
 Mrs. Beethoven, Boom and Meals, 4 50." 
 
 Believe me, my dear Fiorentino, when I tell you that this 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 73 
 
 bill has existed, does exist, and will be, barring accidents, in 
 existence for many years. When we next meet in Paris, I 
 promise you that you shall see it. 
 
 But on another occasion, when your correspondent was 
 travelling with the renowned Violinist (for, be assured that 
 in this section of the globe, he ranks as a most distinguished 
 fiddler) Ole Bull, and several other eminent artists, a con- 
 cert had been advertised in one of the largest of our western 
 cities. It was in the course of being given, and indeed was 
 almost over, when I was standing at the door of the concert- 
 room in close conversation with my treasurer. You may 
 readily enough divine the verbal skeleton of this peculiarly 
 interesting colloquy. As it was going on, a highly respecta- 
 ble and well-dressed individual, who proved to be a western 
 farmer, but who might have been anything else that was 
 doing well in those " diggings," issued from the door of the 
 hall, with both hands plunged into the pockets of that gar- 
 ment which it is impossible for me to name. Looking round 
 him, his eyes lit upon my face, which he seemed to imagine 
 might be the property of one who was an, inhabitant of the 
 city for that night only. So, striding up to me, he placed 
 his broad hand, drawn for that purpose from one of his capa- 
 cious pockets, upon my shoulder, and thus addressed me — 
 " Look a-here, stranger, do you belong to this show?" 
 " I have the honor to do so, sir. Can I be of any use to 
 
 you?" 
 
 "Ah! yes. Can't yer let a fellow know when all this 
 confounded fiddling") what would Ole Bull have said, Fioren- 
 tino, could he have heard this ?) " will come to an end ? " 
 
 " Don't you like the music, sir ? " I blandly inquired. 
 
 " Wall ! I guess I do like the music, too." 
 
 At this I smiled pleasantly, and made him a graceful bow. 
 
 4 
 
74 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 In those younger days, my friend, I was not considered 
 altogether devoid of grace. 
 
 " But it has lasted quite long enough." Here the trea- 
 surer laughed. " I say, what's that darned fellow grinning 
 at ? " At my questioner's indignant look, the official's face 
 relapsed into an aspect of the most stolid inanity. "I've 
 a great mind to 'lam' him.'' The treasurer walked off, 
 quaking in his boots. " "Wall ! he's gone. All the better 
 for him. But, stranger ! why don't yer begin with the show ? 
 I would just like to see the ' Bull,' that's sartain, and then 
 I'd to home." 
 
 Matters are, however, far otherwise in those cities which 
 border on the broad Atlantic. Here the public is now, mu- 
 sically, exceedingly intelligent, and will no longer endure 
 anything which may be considered artistically second-rate. In 
 New York, more especially, Italian Opera is not only well 
 understood, but it is one of the " fashions ;" and when it was 
 beginning to take its place in the world of American Art, I 
 was selected by the proprietors of the Astor Place Opera 
 House to become its Manager. This was in the midsummer 
 of 1849. 
 
 Then, very young, very unwise, very enthusiastic, I was, 
 in spite of that natural modesty to which I have elsewhere 
 alluded, un homme a la mode. Fortune, in spite of her ban- 
 daged eyes, seemed to smile upon me. 
 
 Now, alas ! it is quite different. My years are in their 
 wane, and my body is becoming stout and widening into 
 heaviness. Somewhat wiser, and considerably more phleg- 
 matic, I am no longer " in the fashion," and find I have some- 
 thing about ten years more to work, in order to repay my 
 losses of time, and, consequently, of money, when I stepped 
 forward as the destined generator (such, Fiorentino, was my 
 absurd idea) of musical taste in my adopted country. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 75 
 
 You will lift your eyes in reading this, and demand how it 
 can be possible ? Full of your exclusively Parisian ideas on 
 management, you will inquire whether I did not receive the 
 Opera House free of rent ? You will ask what has become 
 of my subvention of half a million of francs per year? 
 whether I have not been secured' by " privilege" against all 
 opposition ; and, if at my retirement from the dignity of 
 directing the Italian Opera, the subscribers, the government, 
 or my immediate successor were not obliged to make good 
 my losses ? 
 
 Fiorentino, musical matters may be managed in this way 
 at Paris and in other places in Europe. In America, their 
 management is a purely different thing. Here, every 
 business or undertaking, whether an Opera or slaughter- 
 house, a soap-factory or a public library, a railway or a 
 monument to Daniel Webster, is a private speculation. The 
 success of an enterprise depends upon one of two features, — 
 the general utility of the work, or the amount it realizes. In 
 the one case, he who has inaugurated it, may possibly starve. 
 In the last, should he know how to preserve as well as he 
 has made his profits, he will die wealthy. The merit of a 
 speculative man is estimated by the rate of discount at which 
 his notes are taken. His qualities, excellencies and errors, 
 are valued in relation with the balance of his account in a 
 Wall Street Bank. His merits are simply estimated by the 
 amount of specie in his possession. Should he be able to 
 draw a cheque for one or two hundred thousand dollars, 
 every body will decide favorably with regard to his talent. 
 Could he call for double this amount with the certainty of 
 finding it, he would undoubtedly be regarded as a man of 
 genius. Were he puzzled to find a dollar of his own for 
 immediate necessities, beyond any suspicion, he must be a 
 fool. 
 
76 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Divine, Fiorentino, in which class of estimation your 
 correspondent is held ? Perhaps not in the last, but very 
 certainly in neither of the two first. 
 
 However, tcr return to my subject, the lease of the Astor 
 Place Opera House was mine, not free of rent, but at the 
 rate of something near twelve thousand dollars per annum, 
 which sum was either payable in advance, or to be taken 
 from the first 152 subscribers for the season. Instead of a 
 subvention to assist the speculation, it was arranged that each 
 proprietor should take ten seats for the whole season — gratis : 
 — there are, as a general rule, dear friend, many benevolent 
 proprietors to one house. So far from insuring the Director 
 against all opposition, it was determined that the amount of 
 subscription-money beyond the rent, for the season, should 
 remain in the hands of a trustee until the fulfilment of all 
 promises on the part of the said Director and Manager. 
 
 One of the proprietors, by name Mr. James Foster, jun., a 
 gentleman of fashion, benevolently undertook this task. It 
 may be presumed that during the season, he made a quarter 
 per cent, every day out of it, by accommodating his mercantile 
 friends or " shaving " notes. 
 
 Should the Manager, however, be in need of more than 
 his fortnightly share of it, he had to run down to Wall Street. 
 Here, he would have the satisfaction of ascertaining that the 
 pecuniary success of his enterprise stood at a low figure in 
 the market, by the peculiarly high rate of discount imposed 
 upon his note in more senses than one. 
 
 But, at least, you say to me, — " The operatic habitues, those 
 who loved music, did something to enable you to bring over 
 a good company." 
 
 Yes ! They gave me many promises ; but no money. 
 
 However, I am mistaken. Amongst them there was one 
 real lover of melody, not for the sake of fashion, but for the 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 77 
 
 sake of Art itself. This was Mr. Henry A. Coit, a virtuoso 
 of the right stamp. Indeed, could twenty-four more like him 
 have been found in New York, the Opera would long since 
 have been an established fact in this city. 
 
 He took my part when I complained to the Committee of 
 the proprietors who had expressly promised pecuniary aid, 
 although they would not insert it as a condition in the lease, 
 and headed a subscription-list for my support with his own 
 name for several hundred dollars. His example was follow- 
 ed. But, what Mr. Coit may probably have considered as a 
 gift, they regarded as a loan, which was made payable from 
 the first receipts of the Opera House. 
 
 Had not several artists been already engaged by me, it is 
 more than probable I should have at once thrown up the 
 speculation. 
 
 Let me also ask you, how much you may imagine was the 
 amount of this loan, given under such conditions, which 
 should enable me to bring out a new company from Europe ? 
 Judging from those fabulous sums which private speculators 
 have secured and paid to single artists in America, you will 
 imagine that I needed an infinitely larger one, to induce a 
 whole company to visit these shores. The reports of the 
 liberality of the middle and lower classes in this country, will 
 have induced you to believe that the " Upper Ten," the crime 
 of fashionable society, the fleur des pois of taste and refine- 
 ment in the New World, now distinguished themselves by at 
 the very least as prodigal an outlay. Do not suffer your 
 imagination to be too highly exalted, my amiable Fiorentino. 
 My patrons liberally handed me, on leaving New York, a 
 letter of credit for £540 (!) payable in London, sixty days 
 after sight, (this was very nearly the time at which it was to 
 be repaid by me, here,) and took from me, in exchange, a 
 
78 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 transfer of the reciepts until the re-payment of the afore- 
 said £540. 
 
 Several weeks after this, £50 more, as a second loan, were 
 received by me, when in London, with a kind and encourag- 
 ing letter. 
 
 In this most remarkable document, the belief was expressed, 
 that the "large sums" then at my disposal, would enable me 
 to bring over Grisi and Mario (!), or afford a strong induce- 
 ment for Jenny Lind and Lablache to visit this country. 
 
 Need I say to you, that I made not the slightest attempt 
 to persuade these artists to do this ? The means in my hands 
 absolutely forbade this satisfaction to the proprietors of, and 
 rabscribers to the Astor Place Opera House. To Cruvelli 
 I however did speak. At that period, she was ready to visit 
 America, with her sister, the contralto, for the paltry sum of 
 ten thousand francs per month. She, however, demanded an 
 engagement of ten months and the usual advance of one-fifth. 
 This was too much for the large means which had been so 
 liberally placed at my disposal. However, let me candidly 
 confess that I did not dare expose my pecuniary condition to 
 a leading soprano, although she was an old acquaintance of 
 mine. Ashamed, both of my own position and for that of the 
 prodigal proprietors and subscribers, sooner than compromise 
 my own reputation or injure the future prospects of Opera in 
 New York, I preferred leaving the charming Cruvelli without 
 any definitive answer. Should any one now wish to engage 
 her to visit this continent, he must pay five times as much as 
 she then asked. The whole amount of the salary must be 
 secured her. Servants, hotel expenses, and carriage hire, 
 will also have to come out of the pocket of the enterprising 
 entrepreneur. Yet, I candidly believe, Cruvelli was at that 
 period to the full as great an artist as she is now. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 79 
 
 Another vocalist was then offered me through the agency 
 of Bonola of Milan. 
 
 This was Raffaelle Mirate, the tenor, who asked six thou- 
 sand francs per month. 
 
 Believing him too dear at this price, although he was then 
 young and fresh, this offer was declined by me. Yet, six 
 years later, he managed to get an engagement in New York 
 at eighteen thousand francs per month, with one clear benefit, 
 and this when he has added six years to his age, and, in great 
 measure, used up his voice. 
 
 But, there was another acquisition of immensely more im- 
 portance which I could at this time have made, had I chosen 
 so to do. 
 
 This individual, or acquisition, was no other and nothing 
 less than that man of many talents, the Chevalier Henry 
 Wikoff. 
 
 The opportunity of securing his co-operation in management 
 was offered me at the Hotel de Bade, where he introduced 
 himself with surpassing suavity and ease of manner, propos- 
 ing that I should either secure Ms services as a partner in the 
 concern, general diplomatist in its affairs, or more specially 
 as the Manager of the New York Press. Under the seal of 
 the most profound secresy (believe not that I should violate 
 it, my dear Fiorentino, had he not himself removed the veil 
 for all who would listen to him) he confided to me that he was, 
 at that time, engaged in arranging the preliminaries of a mar- 
 riage for one of the principal members of the Buonaparte 
 family, as well as in settling the monetary affairs of a person- 
 age of high standing in the political world. At the same time, 
 he graciously gave me to understand, that having formerly 
 been mixed up with musical matters, through the toes of 
 Fanny Ellsler, he should feel a very decided preference for 
 the operatic line of business. Indeed, he hinted, that through 
 
80 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 his then influence with the Prince-President (now the Em- 
 peror Louis Napoleon) he might, could, and would in time, 
 obtain the privilege of managing the Grand Opera at Paris 
 for him and myself. Consequently, he should feel not the 
 slightest hesitation in abandoning the marriage which he had 
 then on the tapis, and suffering the monetary matters to ar- 
 range themselves for the well-known personage in question. 
 
 This, you will at once confess, my friend, was a truly cap- 
 tivating offer of alliance to one who had such a slight personal 
 experience in management as myself. 
 
 However, I naturally required some little time to weigh it 
 in my own mind, before coming to aDy determination, and 
 declined giving him a response at the moment. Luckily, I 
 was induced to make some inquiries respecting the Chevalier, 
 and learnt from the very best authority (this was, as I pre- 
 sume there will be no harm in- my mentioning the name, Dr. 
 Conneau, who was, or had been, the private physician to the 
 Prince-President) the real position and occupation of the 
 Chevalier. 
 
 His advice was clear in the extreme — " that it would be 
 best for me to have nothing to do with the man." 
 
 Was it not natural for me to believe, therefore, that the 
 marriage preliminaries on which the Chevalier was then en- 
 gaged, were those of some princess of the Treizieme Arron- 
 dissement with the valet de place of one of his intimates, and 
 that the pecuniary negotiations in which he was interested, 
 might in all probability lie between himself and the director 
 of a Mont de Piete ; while, it was by no means improbable 
 that his acquaintance with the Prince-President, might re- 
 semble that of the English peasant with his Grace the great 
 Duke of Marlborough. 
 
 This individual, my amiable Fiorentino, was standing at 
 the gate of his lordship's house, anxiously waiting to see the 
 renowned General leave it, and enter his carriage. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 81 
 
 His curiosity somewhat interfered with his politeness, for 
 you know that all Englishmen are by nature most excrucia- 
 tingly polite. Nay ! he actually impeded his Grace's move- 
 ments, whereupon, the Duke spoke to him. 
 
 His words were these : " Can 't you get out of the way, 
 you d — d jackanapes ?" 
 
 Overwhelmed with joy by this gracious specimen of Ducal 
 condescension, the peasant was accustomed all his lifetime to 
 brag of this distinction. And in the long winter evenings, he 
 would narrate to his children and grandchildren, as they sat 
 around the brick fireplace, and the log of freshly cut wood 
 smouldered and crackled before them into flame, how, in his 
 younger days, he had the honor of being spoken to by the 
 great Duke of Marlborough. 
 
 It may be considered as no improbability, that in some 
 way or other, the Chevalier learnt money was not at all so 
 plentiful with me as he had at first supposed. 
 
 At the least, it may be supposed so, from the circumstance 
 of his soon afterwards retiring from his previous application 
 to me, and starting upon that Gamble-ing speculation which 
 secured him such a pressing invitation from the officials of 
 the Castle of St. Andrea, in Genoa. Indeed, this invitation 
 was so imperative, that it admitted no possibility of declining 
 it, by any exertion of his diplomatic skill and subtlety. 
 
 It was fully six years later, that he obtained the situation 
 of Acting Manager at the Academy of Music, under Messrs. 
 Phalen and Coit, which I had so carefully avoided giving him 
 at the Astor Place Opera House. But, let me, my dear Fio- 
 rentino, to my shame confess, that had I then been fully 
 aware of his managerial capacity, and myself known as much 
 of management as I have since learnt, it would have, beyond 
 a doubt, been far better to have taken him when he offered 
 himself to me. So admirably did he manage for these gen- 
 
 4* 
 
82 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 tlemen, that in three short months, crowded houses lost them 
 more money than I had myself done in six years. It would 
 have been infinitely better for me, and more lucky for Mr. 
 Wikoff and the public, had I been then as wise as now, and 
 associated him in my enterprise. With his aid, my manage- 
 rial career would have ended after three months instead of 
 six years of struggles, and in that case 1 should have saved 
 more than five years of my valuable time. Mr. Wikoff 
 would have avoided the troubles attendant upon " His Court- 
 ship," and the public have escaped the annoyances of reading 
 " Its Consequences." 
 
 You will therefore see that I was actually obliged, through 
 my ignorance of the future, to manage my business alone. 
 This I did, and ultimately brought together a highly respecta- 
 ble company. Considering the small means at my disposal, 
 it might fairly be considered a very creditable one, consisting 
 of Mademoiselle Bertucca, Signora Truffi, who had figured in 
 the Fry management, Signora Borghese, Signori Forti, Guidi, 
 Beneventano, Novelli, and others. 
 
 At that time, when the public of New York had not yet 
 been accustomed to the Jenny Linds, Sontags, Albonis, Grisis, 
 Marios and Lagranges, who have since bewitched them out 
 of their dollars, it was a decidedly good Operatic Company, 
 and compared with the Fasciotti and Castrone troupe, brought 
 over by Mr. W. H. Fry, it might safely have been called an 
 immense one. Moreover, they gave satisfaction to the 
 public, and under my direction, this Company, consisting 
 mostly of Italians, gave sixty consecutive performances with- 
 out a single postponement, and even without one solitary 
 alteration in the bills announcing the evening's entertainment. 
 This will, I know, appear almost incredible to you, but, never- 
 theless, Fiorentino, it is a fact. 
 
 As regards the positive standing of the artists themselves, 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 83 
 
 they were good, without approaching the planetary proportion 
 of modern stars. Of Signora Truffi, I have already spoken, 
 in a letter which Berlioz will show you. With Mademoiselle 
 Bertucca, there is one little circumstance connected, which 
 permits neither eulogy nor criticism upon my part. In spite 
 of that unconquerable bashfulness which is mine by nature, 
 she has become my wife. It would be useless upon your 
 part, Fiorentino, to ask me how this chanced. Such, she 
 undoubtedly is. At the first a favorite, she lost her primary 
 prestige with the public by marrying her Manager. Never- 
 theless, in your ear, my friend, I may whisper my conviction 
 that she is an excellent artist, and one that can always be de- 
 pended upon. Were I to say more, you might bid me refrain 
 from eulogizing the better portion of my individuality ; where- 
 fore, it may perhaps be best for her that I should remain silent. 
 
 Our first night was in the month of November, 1849, and 
 was very successful. 
 
 The entire press, with one solitary exception, supported 
 me. They seemed determined upon giving me a fair trial. 
 Had I, indeed, received the tenth part of the aid and support 
 given me at this period by the press, from the proprietors and 
 subscribers, I might possibly have avoided all pecuniary loss, 
 and established, through my own proper efforts, a sound and 
 critical musical taste in America. 
 
 You will observe that I have mentioned one solitary ex- 
 ception in the press, and you will be astonished to hear that 
 this was the only journal which exclusively lays claim to a 
 " fashionable" position in New York. One of its editors, Mr. 
 Nathaniel P. Willis, was at this time the " fashionable" wri- 
 ter. He embroidered his articles in the Home Journal, with 
 peculiarly graceful English, and served the female world as 
 its paid professor of etiquette. His weekly contributions dic- 
 tated their fashionable duties. Shining as an instructor in 
 
84 KEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 deportment, and a preceptor in manners, he also endeavored 
 to grasp at the rank of a Master of Ceremonies. In a word, 
 he attempted to dictate to them on matters of taste, and felt 
 the task of teaching them how to pose their feet on entering a 
 ball-room, or how to sink their eyes when a gentleman might 
 " pop" the all-important question, much too small for his am- 
 bition. Like himself and his occupations, are his writings. 
 He possesses a highly refined language, a style of extreme 
 elegance and finish, but a wonderful paucity of striking ideas. 
 Like the banquet set before the Barmecide, there are splen- 
 did China dishes and gold spoons. Vases of silver and a 
 profusion of flowers abound, but unfortunately there is no 
 meat. Mental starvation is a necessity for him, who would 
 sit down and enjoy a feast of the soul, with N. P. Willis. 
 
 Fortunately for me, the ladies of New York were not dis- 
 posed to be hoodwinked by their self-elected Master of Cere- 
 monies, or my fate must have been a woeful one. I was 
 more bitterly persecuted by this dapper mosquito, than ever 
 the unfortunate Fry had been by Bennett. Vatel never 
 suffered as much from you, Fiorentino, as I did from N. P. 
 Willis. Jules Janin's persecution of Eoqueplan was not to 
 be named with this untoward visitation. 
 
 What could I do ? I might have sued him for damages 
 accruing to me from his libels, as Mr. Fry had done with the 
 Editor of the Herald. He had charged me with robbing the 
 subscribers of their money, when, it was only by superhuman 
 exertions, I was enabled to carry on the season. From an 
 excellent lawyer, therefore, did I take advice, but to my as- 
 tonishment he asked me where the Home Journal was pub- 
 lished, and assured me the verdict would be for so small an 
 amount, being proportioned in all probability to the standing 
 of the journal, that it would fail to pay him his expenses. 
 
 " As for you, my dear Max," he said with a courtly smile, 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 85 
 
 " it would, I feel certain, altogether depend upon the results 
 of your season." 
 
 On leaving his office, deeply chagrined to find my vague 
 prospect of twenty thousand dollars damages (!) melting away, 
 a bright idea occurred to me. Why not imitate Roqueplan ? 
 Fascinated by the thought of a newspaper duel, which possesses 
 all the charms of a personal rencounter, without any of its 
 dangers, I rushed home. My letter was written and pub- 
 lished. War was begun. At it we went, and, in a short 
 space of time, the laughers had changed sides. 
 
 Neither one nor the other of us sustained any great amount 
 of damage from the interchange of our paper pellets. Mate- 
 rially, I candidly believe we have both been benefited. 
 
 The whole of the Opem-hahitues of the middle classes, all 
 of its employes, from the prima donna and leading tenor to 
 the call-boys and supernumeraries who had never before so 
 much as heard of the existence of the Home Journal and the 
 " fashionable" notoriety who wrote upon it, purchased and read it. 
 They • naturally relished the verbal insolence to which their 
 Manager was weekly, with a consistent regularity of the most 
 exemplary order, exposed. On the other side, all of the 
 readers of N. P. Willis's operatic diatribes, who had never 
 yet dreamt of visiting me, before the curtain, now came. Their 
 object being simply and solely, to get a sight of the unfortu- 
 nate monster, weekly knocked down and laid out for inspection 
 by the agreeable and accomplished journalist. 
 
 It is possible, that had Mr. Willis known the circumstances, 
 and the real amount of means placed in my hands to carry 
 on the Opera, he might have transposed his critical disquisi- 
 tions into a less bitter key, and managed to keep in time and 
 tune with the other journals. Let me own to you, my dear 
 friend, in a quiet way, that if this had chanced to be the case, 
 I should most deeply have regretted it. 
 
86 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 But to you, more especially, beloved Fiorentino, a few 
 jottings upon musical criticism, and those who deal with it 
 in the New "World, may, possibly, not be devoid of interest. 
 You shall have them. 
 
 First, then, let me tell you we have a real live French 
 Baron amongst us, M. R. De Trobriand, who writes in the 
 Gourrier des Mats- Unis. Ordinarily, he is a warm friend 
 to the Opera, and a kindly adviser to artists. However, 
 should the prima donna forget to smile on him, or the primo 
 tenore not raise his hat sufficiently, in salutation, he will grow 
 a trifle savage, and forget (even as you and I have some- 
 times done, Fiorentino) the first duty of a professional critic 
 — impartiality; M. De Trobriand is a Baron by birth, a musi- 
 cal critic by necessity, and a 5arj/fowe-singer by inclination. It 
 may further be said, that he writes as good French as any 
 Baron can be expected to do, and sings as well as may be 
 desired from any musical critic. His style, as afeuiUetoniste, 
 may be considered verging on the Rococo. Bon-mots from 
 the JEpoque de la Regence, with refrains from old Operas 
 Gomiques, sprinkle his criticisms. Nevertheless, he uses the 
 pen with sense, a great deal of wit and truly Parisian ease, 
 while he was the first successful transplanter of the Revue- 
 feuilleton in America. 
 
 The Courier and Enquirer gives cleverly-written and 
 generally dispassionate notices on Music and the Drama. 
 These only appear at rare intervals, and on great occasions. 
 
 In the Daily Times, impartial reports are to be found, 
 spiced with witty remarks, and mingled with acute and 
 shrewd observation. 
 
 One daily paper alone attempts to give anything like 
 theoretical criticism. This is the Tribune. But its critical 
 disquisitions may be said, my dear friend, to be rather ana- 
 tomical dissections of the form, than psychological observa- 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 87 
 
 tions upon the spirit of music. The present musical critic 
 of this journal, for, at the time of which I am speaking, it 
 had not yet taken so scientific a position, uses in every ten or 
 a dozen words some four or five technical expressions. By 
 this simple means, he has the satisfaction of rendering his 
 writing unintelligible to the general reader, while it is of no 
 service to the practical musician. Tou and I know, Fioren- 
 tino, that what may be good for the mere student, is useless 
 to the composer, and incomprehensible to the amateur. In 
 short, the mathematical rules of music are not the music 
 itself. They are simply its physical conditions, in the same 
 way as the theory of distributing and balancing color cannot 
 be esteemed the art of painting. 
 
 Correct judgments upon Art are generally given in the 
 Albion and Weekly Dispatch, but in some of the.other scores 
 upon scores of papers published in New York, you may 
 occasionally discover that " ' Lucrezia Borgia' is a sparkling 
 comic Opera, written by Rossini," that " the ' Barber of 
 Seville' is the best thing Verdi has ever given to the musical 
 public," or, that "the ladies of the Chorus in 'Rigoletto' 
 (which contains no female Chorus) were dreadfully out of 
 tune." Perhaps you will be informed, " that the magnificent 
 contralto notes of Jenny Lind constituted the secret of her 
 triumph," or, that " the Ut de poitrine of Benedetti rivals, in 
 its power, that of the huge Lablache." Only figure to your- 
 self, my good friend, the despair of that Titan of all bassi, 
 past, present, and to come, should he ever conceive that there 
 are musical critics actually in existence, who believe in his 
 physical possession of a mythical Ut de poitrine. 
 
 But, let me return once more to my narration of those 
 events which were connected with my debut in American 
 Musical Management. 
 
 Although the sixty performances -of the season took place 
 
88 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 without the slightest disappointment to the public, it must not 
 be presumed that they could be given, without difficulties and 
 annoyances of the most serious description to the Manager. 
 
 "Was there ever any Manager, whose luck saved him from 
 annoyance and difficulty ? 
 
 No! Fiorentino. That man who is destined to be a 
 Manager, is, most indubitably, not born with a silver spoon in 
 his mouth. It was only my enthusiasm for the Art, and a 
 lying confidence in the future, which gave me the energy and 
 the capacity for perseverance. 
 
 Let me detail to you one of the numerous mischances, on 
 which I can now pleasantly lay the finger of my recollection. 
 
 At the last rehearsal but one of the " Maria di Rohan," 
 never before placed upon the stage in this part of the world, 
 great carelessness was evinced by some of the members of 
 the Orchestra. Indeed, matters went worse with them at 
 this than they had done at the first rehearsal. Growing 
 nervous for the consequences of this unwonted negligence 
 upon their part, I rebuked the offending portion with con- 
 siderable asperity. The last — a Dress Rehearsal — was to 
 cpme off upon the same evening. More than a hundred of 
 the subscribers had received invitations to attend it, and were 
 already in the house. But, on entering the Orchestra, I 
 found myself alone there, with some two or three only out 
 of its forty-two members. It was evident that a conspiracy 
 had taken place, and I at once hastened upon the stage. 
 Here, a messenger met me from them, who informed me, that 
 the absent members had determined neither to attend re- 
 hearsal nor performance, until a public apology had been 
 made by me, for the intemperate expressions I had made use 
 of, that morning. At the same time, with a naivete peculiar 
 to the musical profession in this country, he invited me to 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 89 
 
 step round to a bar-room near the theatre, in which they 
 were assembled, and register that apology. 
 
 You know me of old, my friend, and may consequently 
 divine what answer was given to the mutineers. 
 
 Pulling out my watch, I told them that if they had not 
 determined on returning to their duties, unconditionally, in 
 fifteen minutes, they might one and all consider themselves 
 discharged. 
 
 Had the offended parties themselves personally spoken to 
 me, immediately after the morning rehearsal, the difficulty 
 might have been settled long before evening, but it was im- 
 possible to offer them any apology under such circumstances 
 as the present. The next day, the Chorus would have hoisted 
 the flag of insurrection — the tailors and tailoresses would 
 have gotten up a charming little emeute — the firemen would 
 have determined upon striking ; and, as for the three prima 
 donnas, Heaven only knows what they might have done. It 
 was clear to me that the difficulty had to be overcome, and 
 my course was therefore determined upon. Fifteen minutes 
 had passed, and none of the refractory fiddlers appeared. In 
 consequence of this, I was obliged to adjourn the rehearsal, 
 and declare the whole of the malcontents discharged, on ac- 
 count of their wilful breach of contract. 
 
 So far, Fiorentino, so good. But, " Maria di Rohan " was 
 announced for the following evening, and, at that time, it was 
 believed by me, that the postponement of an Opera would 
 terminate my career as a musical notoriety, and that my 
 pecuniary death was involved in the protest of a note. 
 
 You laugh, my good friend. Alas ! what strange illusions 
 we are subject to, in our youthful advance upon a knowledge 
 of this world ! 
 
 Keenly alive to this idea, I began immediately to revolve 
 what was to be done, and in half an hour more, the only two 
 
90 EEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 remaining members of the Orchestra, the Stage-manager, 
 Orchestra-librarian, and every available personage in the 
 theatre, had started with myself in search of musical recruits. 
 They were impressed everywhere. We seized them in the 
 streets. Descents were made upon the highly moral dancing- 
 houses. Fiddlers were taken from the vessels of war in the 
 harbor. That night, no musician was secure. He was en- 
 listed wherever he might be found. At Jive in the following 
 morning, we had collected a new Orchestra. At seven o'clock, 
 the first rehearsal was called, with closed doors. The key 
 was in my breeches' pocket. There was not the slightest 
 possibility of escape for any one of them. "When ten had 
 stricken, breakfast, prepared by my orders, was served in 
 the green-room. At eleven, we had the second rehearsal. 
 Dinner was ready at two o'clock for every body. The third 
 rehearsal was called on, at three precisely. When it had con- 
 cluded, at a quarter after six, the doors were unlocked, and 
 they had permission given them to retire for one hdur. At 
 eight o'clock, the performance of the Opera of " Maria di 
 Rohan " had commenced. When eleven struck, a complete 
 triumph over insubordination in the ranks of my Orchestra 
 had been achieved, and at midnight I was in bed and sound 
 asleep, after forty hours of unremitted labor and continuous 
 anxiety. 
 
 You may divine, my friend, the wrath of the discharged 
 fiddlers. Suffice it to say, that it actually beggars the at- 
 tempt of my imperfect English to describe it. 
 
 All was, however, useless, and my mode of dealing with so 
 flagrant a case of insubordination, had, I am happy to say, a 
 subsequently most salutary influence over the Orchestras in 
 New York generally, and, perhaps, more especially with those 
 over whom I had the honor to preside. 
 
 After this occurrence matters progressed very smootlilv 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 91 
 
 and the benevolent proprietors and subscribers, touched by 
 the visible harmony that reigned this year, so far as they 
 might see, (for when, Fiorentino, was there ever a real 
 harmony amongst the sons and daughters of Melody?) in 
 the Astor Place Opera House, and which caused them no 
 trouble whatever, determined "at last, so they said, to do 
 something for my advantage. 
 
 Touched by the unanimity of this determination, one of 
 the proprietors of the Opera House to whom I have else- 
 where alluded, sent for me, and the following conversation 
 ensued. He also was determined to do for me. Should 
 there be anything equivocal in this expression, remember, 
 my amiable Fiorentino, that I am not writing in my native 
 Teutonic. Consequently, you must ascribe me a wide margin 
 in my English phraseology. 
 
 " My dear Max !" he said in the most affectionate of man- 
 ners, on seeing me ; " do you know that you are very poor 
 in good scenery?" 
 
 " I have quite enough to do, sir, in paying my salaries, and 
 procuring dresses, music and properties." 
 
 " Well, I am inclined to help you," he continued, with one 
 of the blandest of truly benevolent smiles upon his countenance. 
 " Listen to me. There is some splendid scenery in the 
 Opera House, which has been painted by Allegri." 
 
 I nodded my head in answer to this observation, for I 
 knew it. 
 
 " It formerly belonged to Mr. Fry, but has been mort- 
 gaged." 
 
 My reply was, that I was well aware of this fact. 
 
 He looked sharply into my face, but was apparently 
 satisfied, by its immobility, that I knew no more. According- 
 ly, he continued. " In default of the payment of the mortgage, 
 the whole of this scenery will be sold to-morrow by the 
 
92 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Sheriff. Now, supposing that I should lend you the money 
 necessary for its purchase — " 
 
 " Upon what conditions ?" I immediately inquired. 
 
 You must allow, my friend, that this was an exceedingly 
 natural question upon my part. 
 
 " Conditions !" he repeated after me. " Oh ! they shall not 
 be hard ones. I presume that you might get it for some- 
 thing close upon two thousand dollars. It is worth five," he 
 parenthetically observed. " Now, if you choose to transfer 
 to me the first hundred dollars of your receipts for the 
 ensuing twenty performances, you shall have the money. 
 Or, possibly, it might be better for me to pay it, myself, to the 
 Sheriff." 
 
 " I will think over the matter, sir, and, should it appear 
 advisable, I shall certainly avail myself of your kind offer." 
 
 So saying, I left him, firmly convinced in my own mind 
 that this gentleman, and nobody else than this gentleman 
 himself, was the mortgagee. Or, rather, that he was the 
 mortgagee on behalf of the proprietors, who, instead of 
 benefiting me by allowing my management the use of this 
 scenery, actually wished to make me pay in the above man- 
 ner the debts of Mr. E. P. Fry. Fortunately, my suspicions 
 had been aroused by his unwonted familiarity, and I was 
 consequently prepared for him. 
 
 On the morrow, I accordingly sent my head-carpenter, 
 Mr. Tunison, a true and confidential friend, to the auction, 
 with the order, upon my account, to bid five hundred dollars 
 for the scenery, and on no account to go beyond this figure. 
 
 Nobody appeared at the auction, save Tunison and the 
 Sheriff. 
 
 Tunison offers one hundred dollars, and the Sheriff himself 
 caps the offer with double that amount. Tunison, then, says 
 three hundred, and the Sheriff makes a bid of four. Matters 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 93 
 
 are progressing very rapidly. Five hundred is offered by 
 Tunison. " Six hundred !" says the Sheriff. 
 
 Tunison, then, takes up his hat and leaves the room. 
 
 For a moment, the Sheriff looked decidedly astonished. 
 But he had his private instructions not to sell, save at a 
 certain amount. What was he to do? This did not require 
 a very lengthy consideration. Obedient to his instructions, 
 and with the keenest of noses for his own ^er-centage, he 
 proceeded with the sale. 
 
 " Seven hundred dollars ! " he ejaculated. " This lot of 
 truly splendid scenery, painted by Allegri, in a style that 
 completely rubs out the English scene-painter Stanfield, and 
 leaves his rival, Turner, nowhere, is going at seven hun- 
 dred—" 
 
 " Eight ! did you say, sir, for these magnificent works of 
 art ? Eight hundred dollars ! Going — going — going. Does 
 nobody bid more ? " 
 
 " One thousand !" he interrupts himself with, bowing to an 
 imaginary individual in a far corner of the room. " On my 
 honor — not as a Sheriff, but an auctioneer — " he in all likeli- 
 hood prudently added, " it is dirt cheap. Fifteen hundred ! 
 Ah ! we are now approaching the real figure. Going — 
 going. It completely whips Delacroix out of the field. 
 Horace Vernet couldn't touch it . Does nobody say more 
 than fifteen hundred ? Going — going. Two ■ thousand dol- 
 lars ! Two thousand for the first — for the second — for the — 
 "Will nobody bid more ? Two thousand dollars for the third 
 
 time ! Gone — to ! " Here, he named my kindly adviser, 
 
 who had so benevolently offered to advance me the money 
 necessary for the purchase. 
 
 " Not altogether a bad half-hour's work ! " said the Sheriff, 
 as he sat down and made out a bill of sale and of his per 
 
94 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 centage, which, it is to be presumed, he presented to his em- 
 ployer, with his congratulations. 
 
 Half an hour afterwards, I again saw this gentleman, at his 
 request. 
 
 " How is it," asked he, " that you have let such an oppor- 
 tunity escape you ? " 
 
 "I have changed my mind. I shall have new scenery 
 painted." 
 
 " This scenery is perfectly new. Now I will make a bar- 
 gain with you, and sell or hire it to you." 
 
 " Well ! sir," said I, " let us make a bargain. First of all, 
 let me ask you whether you have been paid the rent for the 
 house ? " 
 
 "Certainly!" he replied. "The hundred and fifty-two 
 subscribers have all paid." 
 
 " Then," I rejoined, as coldly as a cake of ice sliced in 
 winter from the Wenham Lake, " the house is mine until 
 October next. Therefore, I request you to remove your 
 property in the next twenty-four hours, or to pay me storage 
 for it." 
 
 He immediately flew into a wild passion, but I coolly told 
 him, that unless he had the whole of his scenery removed by 
 twelve o'clock on the next day, Mr. Tunison would be in- 
 structed to have it all placed in the middle of the street. 
 
 The next day, he, in his turn, called upon me, and it was 
 then agreed that the scenery should remain in the Opera 
 House, and that, instead of storage-money, I should have the 
 right to use it. 
 
 He never forgave me this trick, my dear Fiorentino, and 
 used to say that — " it was suggested by a Yankee, as no for- 
 eigner would have had sufficient wit." It must be said, my 
 friend, that in uttering this opinion he most prodigiously over- 
 rates his own skill, and underrates that of the Yankees. Un- 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 95 
 
 fortunately, Teutonic as I am, I certainly proved one too 
 many for him, in this instance, and that, unassisted. 
 
 As has been previously mentioned, the subscribers to the 
 Opera House wished to demonstrate to me their satisfaction 
 with my management, and to do something for the Manager. 
 They accordingly proposed to give three Fancy Balls, or more, 
 if successful, for my benefit. But, you must not imagine that 
 a fancy ball in New York bears any resemblance to the tu- 
 multuous thronging and headlong gaiety of a bal masque at 
 Paris. Masks are here prohibited, and at fancy balls in this 
 city, the visitor may appear in the dress that pleases him best 
 and becomes him least, with the full consciousness of the 
 awkwardness of a novel costume written upon his bared face 
 As a natural consequence of this, he moves as stiffly, and dan- 
 ces as awkwardly as the wooden figures in front of the instru- 
 ment of a Piedmontese organ-grinder, until his limbs begin to 
 be loosened, and he forgets the strangeness of his unwonted 
 attire, under the influence of a flask of Champagne, or the 
 stronger and fuller body of a Burgundy. Moreover, fancy 
 balls come with sufficient rarity to tempt no great amount 
 of variety in the costumes. The same Julius Ccesar and the 
 same Vestal, in dress at least, appear at all. Don Juan and 
 Zerlina are always to be found together. The French Vice- 
 Consul will make his entry as a Bedouin, and the Gambler 
 figures there as a Gentleman of the old school. Mrs. B — 
 displays her curls and diamonds as Madame Pompadour, 
 which character she must have assumed some dozen times. 
 The lovely Mrs. W — and her two even fairer sisters, shine 
 there as the Three Graces, while you might chance even to 
 light upon Mr. C — , doing the character of Adonis, stereo- 
 typed upon memory, by his persistent appearance in its 
 remarkably tight unmentionables. 
 
 Sufficient be it, that my faith in fancy dress balls was of 
 
96 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 the most homoeopathic character. It was obviously impossi- 
 ble that three of them could succeed. 
 
 In consequence of this conviction, which I entertained, 
 young as I was in New York life, and which is still entertained 
 by me, I requested as a favor that these balls might be simply 
 full dress ones. This favor was granted me, and then, a dozen 
 of the most fashionable gentlemen formed a committee, and 
 took the business in their own hands. Nothing was required 
 of me, except the preparation and decoration of the Opera 
 House for the occasion. These were, it must be confessed, 
 sufficiently onerous in the matter of expense. Firstly, a new 
 flooring had to be provided for the house, and six hundred 
 dollars were demanded for this alone. The decorations for 
 the stage required an expenditure of four hundred. Then, 
 one of the committee spoke with me. He wished to have 
 two Orchestras, as one would scarcely be heard in the buzz 
 and movement of the enormous crowd which was expected by 
 them. Another suggested that I might as well procure new 
 carpets for the lobbies ; while a third intimated that ranges of 
 flowers (it was then, Fiorentino, in the month of January) 
 should be placed on either side of the principal staircase ; and 
 a fourth kindly advised that refreshments should be provided 
 gratis, for the ladies. To all this, need it be said, that I, in 
 my innocence, unhesitatingly assented. 
 
 The day of the ball at length drew near, and no advertise- 
 ment of it was to be seen. Upon my inquiring the reason 
 of this, I was informed that nearly the whole of the tickets 
 had been already disposed of, and that advertising would, 
 most certainly, be an unnecessary expense. 
 
 It is superfluous to say that such a result of the labors of 
 the committee delighted me, and that this delight, upon my 
 part, actually ordered more flowers and refreshments. 
 
 But two days previously, some of my personal friends had 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 97 
 
 applied for tickets to some of its members, and could obtain 
 none. It was moreover told me, that strangers stopping at 
 the principal hotels had offered large prices to secure an ad- 
 mission. It was, however, too late. When informed of this, 
 although filled with regret for the disappointment of my 
 friends, I was overwhelmed with joy upon my own account. 
 Rubbing my hands warmly together, I executed a pas seul in 
 my own room, which would most certainly have astonished 
 St. Leon, and dispatched orders for a larger quantity of flow- 
 ers and more refreshments. Experience, Fiorentino, had not 
 yet taught me, how little dependence it was prudent to place 
 upon those whose labors we do not pay for. 
 
 At length, the long-expected evening arrived. In order 
 to enjoy the coup d'ceil on entering the crowded ball-room, 
 I repaired thither tolerably late. 
 
 Judge of my astonishment, my friend, when, on entering 
 the wide salon, mine eyes fell on no more than some two or 
 three hundred persons. It is true that these were the creme 
 de la crime of New York society. But was this any conso- 
 lation, to one whose pockets had been emptied to afford them 
 an evening's amusement ? There they were, a select little 
 party of intimate acquaintances, amusing themselves upon 
 my premises, ordering waltzes and polkas from my two 
 Orchestras, eating my refreshments and destroying my 
 flowers, after having excluded from the ball not only my 
 personal friends, but that trusting, generous, and sympathetic 
 friend who, alone, has ever tendered me an unwavering sup- 
 port, and whenever I have trusted to it alone, has rarely, 
 ought I not to say, never failed me — the New York public. 
 Suffice it, that I left the ball-room, annoyed with their callous 
 egotism, but far more angered with myself for having in the 
 slightest degree trusted them. 
 
 Of course, the expenses of this ball very far overrun the 
 5 
 
98 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 receipts from it ; but no one dreamt, for so much as one mo- 
 ment, of making up the difference between them, to me. 
 They seemed to imagine that it was my speculation, and 
 carried their indifference so far, as not even to hint their 
 regret that it had failed, or offer me their acknowledgments 
 for the hospitality which I had offered them. Need you 
 be informed, that the other two balls did not take place? 
 
 This untoward result, combined with the everlasting out- 
 lays in music, dresses, and properties unavoidable in a 
 Manager's first season, brought me considerably in arrear 
 in my pecuniary affairs. My pockets were not only empty, 
 but I was in debt to an amount of many thousand dollars. 
 
 Not despairing, however, and believing that the turn must 
 be well at hand, I placed the " Don Giovanni" of Mozart in 
 rehearsal. 
 
 Promises had been made of its production, regularly, by 
 all Managers, for the last fifteen years. Some twenty years 
 previously, it had been rendered by the Garcia troupe when 
 in this country. This time, I had made up my mind not to 
 depend on the proprietors, and in a measure, to abjure any 
 dependence upon the " Upper Ten." Those to whom I ap- 
 pealed, were that public which I had hitherto been managed 
 into a neglect of. Nor did they fail me. 
 
 The Opera of " Don Giovanni" brought me support from 
 all classes, and attracted persons of all professions and every 
 description to the Opera House. Fourteen consecutive even- 
 ings was it played to crowded houses. This Opera, alone, 
 enabled me to conclude the season and satisfy all demands 
 made upon my exchequer. 
 
 Nor is this the first time Mozart's matchless master-piece 
 has saved some poor devil of a Manager from ruin. It is 
 truly wonderful how, not only the music, but the mere plot 
 of this Opera, interests the public, in all and every country 
 
OPESA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 99 
 
 in which it may be performed. Indeed, there is no tale 
 which, under forms so multiple and various, has so often 
 been employed by poets in almost every land, as the " Don 
 Juan,'' if I possibly except the more mystical and absurd 
 fable of the " Faust." These two subjects would seem never 
 to lose their attraction or to fail in the interest which they 
 attempt to excite, in whatsoever shape they may be presented 
 to us. As Romance or Tragedy, Ballet, Poem, or Opera, 
 they have, in turn, for more than two hundred years, exer- 
 cised their influence over all mankind. " Don Juan Senorio" 
 is the title of a drama, by a Spanish author, whose name is 
 Zorilla, that , supplied Moliere with the plot of his " Don 
 Juan." The Italian poet Du Ponte wrote the libretto for 
 Mozart's Opera. In Germany, Grabbe and others have 
 adopted the same fable, while the English " Byron" has 
 stolen the name and married it immortally to his own verse as 
 a " Don Juan" of his own. Still more, has the weird imagi- 
 nation of Faust's thirst for the secrets of Infinity offered an 
 inexhaustible mine to all poets and musicians. Even in 
 1587, a certain Johann Spies had published in Teutchland, 
 the romance of " Faust." In 1594, a Dutchman named 
 Toleth Shotus edited a tale called " Faustus," which he 
 admits having translated from the Spanish. Theophilo di 
 Adama, a Sicilian writer, composed somewhat later an 
 Italian legend with the title of " Faust." The French, in the 
 olden time, played mysteries which were known under 
 the name of " Faust." Contemporary with William Shak- 
 speare, was an English dramatist called "Marlow," who 
 wrote a play upon the same subject. Spohr founded his 
 well-known Opera upon this fable. Ballets almost innumer- 
 able have been welded upon this subject. Scarcely a writer 
 of dance-music, to a consistent plot, but has felt it incumbent 
 upon him to treat Faust to a few pas in some shape or other. 
 
100 .REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Goethe has consecrated the myth by adopting it to his own 
 subtle and quaint intelligence, while Byron has impudently 
 seized upon it, as he had done upon the name of Don Juan, 
 and converted it into a shape bearing no more than a faint 
 resemblance to the original, in his own " Manfred." 
 
 But, why is it that these two fables have so strongly and 
 decidedly excited the curiosity of the masses ? Is it not that 
 these two mythic characters (for the character contains the 
 fable, more than the fable contains the character) represent, 
 in the pursuits and trials to which they are exposed, the two 
 horns of that dilemma in which human nature is placed ? 
 
 Faust is employed upon the pursuit of knowledge under 
 difficulties, while Don Juan is engrossed in the pursuit of 
 pleasure. 
 
 Faust would search into and examine the origin of things. 
 He is curious about the real purpose of his existence. Don 
 Juan entertains the idea that he has been placed in this world 
 simply to enjoy it, and that it is to be reckoned by him as so 
 much material for his own pleasure. 
 
 Both of them are philosophers. While Faust is a disci- 
 ple of Socrates, Don Juan has a decided touch of Epicurus 
 in his nature. Both of them are religious. The latter 
 blindly believes his dogma, like an excellent Roman Catholic ; 
 while the first is ready to believe, but wants proof to wipe 
 away his doubts. Is not the same the case with many, other- 
 wise, very admirable Protestants ? Both are determined to 
 act, coute que coute, as they think, and consequently both have 
 " to pay the piper.'' Faust makes a pact with Satan, and 
 goes to hell. Don Juan, as a homicidal reprobate and liber- 
 tine, has the satisfaction of travelling upon the same road, and by 
 as short a cut. Connected with this portion of their personal 
 history, Fiorentino, there is one very remarkable circum- 
 stance. The first author of "Don Juan," Zorilla, and the 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 101 
 
 last author of " Faust," Goethe, entertained very strikingly- 
 different ideas from all other writers, touching (" Manfred's" 
 finale is altogether a most dubious one) the exit of their 
 heroes from this sublunary sphere. They both dispatch- 
 ed them, in a remarkably off-hand manner, to — Heaven. 
 Here, they both obtain the pardon not only of their first 
 lady-loves, Gretchen and Donna Inez, but of One who is 
 at the same time far more mighty and infinitely more 
 forgiving ! 
 
 But, I must beg the pardon of Theophilo di Adama. He 
 also inclines to the merciful view of the question, and frus- 
 trates Satan's views upon the soul of his Faust, through the 
 intercession and interference of the Holy Virgin. 
 
 Poetic, most certainly, this solution of their enigmatic ca- 
 reers is. A man who does wrong, in following out the bias 
 imprinted upon his perceptions by Nature, ought not, as it 
 will seem to you, to go to the inferior regions which human 
 vanity persists in conceiving the place of final retribution. 
 Still less ought he to be consigned thither, if, intending to do 
 right, he has simply mistaken one road for another. While 
 that man who thirsts through his whole life after truth, can 
 really, as you will say to me, have nothing to fear from Satan. 
 When his spirit is at last capable of seeing clearly, he is not 
 condemned to eternal darkness, but is rather summoned by a 
 Higher Power into the regions of living day. Common jus- 
 tice sends them to grill below, but poetic justice lifts them 
 into the light of perpetual love. Now, my dear Fiorentino, 
 your creed shocks me, and obliges me to tell you that I can- 
 not agree with it. As a good Christian, I have not the slightest 
 doubt but that Don Juan and Faust, with their earthly repre- 
 sentatives, are in, or if not, will finally go to Tophet. 
 
 But while I have been discussing the nature of the two 
 Fables, I have suffered Mozart's wonderful music to pass me 
 
102 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 without a word. Fortunately, it is music which asks us for 
 no description, music which literally needs no analysis from 
 the critic, music which demands only a feeling heart to un- 
 derstand its marvellously individual character, music which at 
 once seizes upon the hearer's soul and steeps it in a distinctive 
 joy, music which — 
 
 My dear Fiorentino, I am forgetting myself. To write a 
 critical disquisition upon Mozart's miraculous musical genius, 
 to you, would be a gratuitous insolence, only to be paralleled 
 by the individual who would graciously sit down to teach 
 Janin the theory of writing French. 
 
 Pardon me, my friend, and permit me to tell you, that for 
 the moment I was lost in one of those vague dreams which at 
 times will seize upon all of us, the most as well as the least 
 worldly. Believe me, when I say that forgetfulness of you 
 and myself shall not again come over me. To prove this, let 
 me tell you that the " Don Giovanni" had the greatest suc- 
 cess of any Opera which has been brought forward, in my 
 time, in America. This argues, as you must admit, well for the 
 public taste in this portion of the world, and promises even more 
 for their future musical development. Everybody was delighted. 
 Even a little mercantile acquaintance of mine, who was an en- 
 thusiastic admirer of Opera, and had a positive standing among 
 amateurs, as a man of recognized judgment in musical matters, 
 was literally carried away. Upon the first night, when the Opera 
 had come to an end, he scarcely seemed to know whether he 
 stood upon his head or his heels. My step was not heard in 
 the lobby, ere he rushed up to me like a diminutive madman. 
 Grasping both my hands in his, and shaking them with a very 
 painful fervor to myself, he there and then gave me his opin- 
 ion about Mozart. It was delivered by him in these terms : 
 
 " My dear Mr. Max ! That music of Mozart's ! A-h-h-hh ! 
 Oh-h-h-h-h ! Indeed — I nev-v-v-ver ! " 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 103 
 
 This was all. And yet, I am mistaken, for there and then 
 did he invite me to dine with him. 
 
 " Come to dinner," he said. " We will talk about Mozart, 
 and you will find at my table the heaviest silver spoons and 
 forks, from one end of the United States to the other. I assure 
 you, you will. Now, pray come." 
 
 It was with the^greatest difficulty I excused myself. You 
 ask me, why ? my amiable Fioreritino. "Was I not a poor 
 Manager, and had I no reason to be afraid of that temptation 
 which he offered ?" 
 
 As you have been earlier told by me, the Opera of " Don 
 Giovanni" ran up to the last night of the season. At its 
 close, the committee of the subscribers offered to give me a 
 benefit as a proof of their approbation of my management. 
 In other words, they meant that I should prepare and outlay 
 everything, and that they would direct it. With most exem- 
 plary courtesy, I politely returned them my thanks, and 
 declined their munificent offer, having already determined to 
 take a benefit and manage it myself. Therefore, on the last 
 night of the completed season, it was announced, and I had 
 the satisfaction of seeing the house crammed from the top to 
 the bottom, not by the friends of the subscribers, but by the 
 veritable public. The public of New York, Fiorentino, are 
 like no other public in any city of the Old World. If you 
 knew them as well as I do, you would, I feel convinced, agree 
 with me. Gentle and inexigeant in the extreme, when they 
 find a servant who treats them fairly, who exerts every effort 
 to please them, and who has sufficient talent or knowledge to 
 do so, they become his personal friend. Mine, they have now 
 been for six years. You smile, and ask me whether it is on 
 the score of my knowledge or talent ? Candidly, Fiorentino, 
 I do not know, but I am grateful to them for their unwaver- 
 ing and consistent kindness. 
 
104 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Shortly afterwards, the artists and the Dramatic Fund So- 
 ciety presented me with valuable tokens of their esteem, and 
 were I not writing to one whose mouth involuntarily curls at 
 every attempt I make to speak kindly of myself, I might say 
 of their appreciation for all that which had been done by me 
 for Art upon this continent. 
 
 You ask me — " "What did the committee of subscribers ?" 
 Well ! They did their share. They had taken me upon 
 trial, and they were tolerably well satisfied. On the morning 
 after the benefit, the venerable Dr. G. S. Pattison, an ex- 
 cellent old gentleman, called upon me and presented me with 
 a paper of the following tenor : — ■ 
 
 "Astor Place Opera House, Feb. 16, 1850. 
 
 '•' At the Annual Meeting of the Five Years' Subscribers 
 to the Italian Opera, held at the Astor Place Opera House, 
 on the evening of Saturday, the 16th Feb., 1850, the Meeting 
 was organized by appointing Thomas E. Davies, Esq., Chair- 
 man, and Henry A. Coit, Esq., Secretary. 
 
 " The Committee appointed at the last Annual Meeting, 
 consisting of Victor de Launay, Robert Emmet, and Gran- 
 ville S. Pattison, Esq's, having made a full Report to the 
 Meeting of the affairs of the Opera, the following Resolutions, 
 being regularly moved and seconded, were passed unan- 
 imously : 
 
 " Resolved, That the Report of the Committee be approved 
 of, and accepted. 
 
 "Resolved, That the thanks of the Meeting be given to 
 the Committee for the faithful and successful discharge of 
 their duties during the past year. 
 
 "Resolved, That the members of the Committee of last 
 year be re-elected to manage the affairs of the Opera for the 
 ensuing year. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 105 
 
 "Resolved, That that portion of the Annual Report, in 
 which the Committee recommend the re-leasing of the Opera 
 House to the present lessee, Mr. Max Maretzek, for next 
 year, meets the approbation of the Five Years' Subscribers. 
 
 " Resolved, That the Five Years' Subscribers to the Italian 
 Opera consider it due to Mr, Max Maretzek to express 
 their entire and unqualified approbation of his conduct as 
 Manager of the Astor Place Opera House. 
 
 " Resolved, That the admirable manner in which an un- 
 precedented number of new Operas have been performed, 
 during the season, now drawing to a close, is the best evidence 
 which could be furnished of the high musical qualifications 
 of the artists selected by the Manager. 
 
 " Resolved, That the excellence and superior execution of 
 the Orchestra and Choruses, prove the indefatigable in- 
 dustry, zeal, and ability of Mr. Max Maretzek, as the 
 Musical Conductor. 
 
 "Resolved, That the great gratification afforded to the 
 subscribers and patrons of the Opera, by the Manager, 
 demands from them a substantial expression of their ap- 
 preciation of his praiseworthy efforts. 
 
 " Resolved, That a Committee be appointed to tender to 
 Mr. Max Maretzek a Complimentary Benefit ; and that the 
 subscribers and patrons of the Opera be solicited to co-operate 
 with them in making it a profitable one. 
 
 " Resolved, That a copy of the five last Resolutions, signed 
 by the Chairman and Secretary of this Meeting, be enclosed 
 to Mr. Max Maretzek. 
 
 " Resolved, That the Committee be authorized and instruct- 
 ed to take such steps as they may judge most advisable, to 
 carry out the suggestions made as to securing a bumper 
 Benefit for Mr. Max Maretzek. 
 
 " Resolved, That the proceedings of this Meeting be print- 
 5* 
 
106 KEVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 ed, and a copy sent to each of the Five Years' and Annual 
 Subscribers. 
 " The Meeting then adjourned sine die. 
 
 " Thomas E. Da vies, Chairman. 
 " Henet E. Coit, Secretary.'' 
 
 In handing this paper to me, the old gentleman said : 
 
 " We had intended to give you a benefit, but you have 
 preferred giving it yourself, and I am most pleased to know 
 that it has turned out so well. We ought to have given you 
 a more substantial testimonial, but, at all events, take this 
 paper. If it does nothing else, it will give you credit." 
 
 " Credit ! That is the very thing that I need most of all," 
 I replied, receiving it from his hands. 
 
 So, I immediately hurried down with it to the house at 
 ■which my banking account was kept, in Wall Street, and 
 handed it across the counter to the Receiving Teller, with the 
 request that he should enter it in my folio, and give me 
 credit for it. 
 
 He looked at it, turned it over, (a habit with banking 
 clerks that means nothing,) smiled, and then handed it back 
 to me. 
 
 " The signatures are doubtless good enough, but the word- 
 ing, my dear Mr. Maretzek, is not in the ordinary business 
 style." 
 
 " Then, you won't give me credit for it?" 
 
 " We can't, my good sir. Have you any other commands 
 for us?" 
 
 I shook my head, and he turned away to a gentleman who 
 was standing at my elbow. 
 
 Several other institutions were tried by me with a precisely 
 similar result. None of them would take this paper and give 
 me any credit. It was, therefore, stored away in a corner of 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 107 
 
 my iron safe, (I have one, Fiorentino, although there is but 
 little in it,) like an over-issue of the New Haven Eailroad 
 Stock, with a dim and vague expectation that something 
 might possibly, although not probably, turn up from it. 
 
 My next care was to look over the accounts of my season's 
 management. Its balance-sheet, when everything had been 
 carefully wound up, stood thus : 
 
 Dr. Cr. 
 
 My debts during man- < Property on hand in 
 
 agement, $3,600 < music, dresses, &c, $6,000 
 
 The properties — it being observed, having been used 
 already — would not have sold at auction better than Mr. Fry's 
 scenery had done. . 
 
 What could I do, my good friend, but make up my mind 
 to manage another season? So, I remained silent, and kept 
 up appearances. 
 
 This, Fiorentino, is the faithful and correct history, with 
 the actual result of the first successful season of operatic 
 management, which had occurred for twenty five years in 
 New York 
 
 Believe me, dear friend, most faithfully yours, 
 
 M. M. 
 
THIRD LETTEE. 
 
 TO L. LABLACHE, LONDON. 
 
 Jenny Lind — P. T. Barnum — Teresa Parodi — Humbug, Merit, Curi- 
 osity, Enthusiasm — Jenny Lind's Concert Tour, and Bamum's 
 Autobiograpy. 
 
REVELATIONS OF AN OPERA MANAGER, ETC. Ill 
 
 LETTEE HI. 
 
 TO LUIGI LABLACHE. 
 
 New York, August 28iA, 1855. 
 Lablache ! . 
 
 Prceclarum et veneraMle nomen ! for such it certainly is 
 in the annals of contemporary Music, to you I address my 
 present letter. But a wide change has come across me and 
 my intentions, since I penned the first of this series. No 
 sooner was it known, illustrious basso profondo, that I had 
 commenced writing an account of my various Operatic Expe- 
 riences, than I have literally been besieged by publishers. 
 My friends have enjoined publication upon me. Fair dames 
 and blushing damsels have appealed to me, to know when 
 my volume would come before them. 
 
 It was not of the slightest use to tell them, that the inten- 
 tion of publication had never entered my brain. Unhesi- 
 tatingly they laughed, and said I was one of the most prudent 
 of authors. 
 
 " But I am no author !" 
 
 " Very true. We know that," was the answer. " But you 
 will soon be one." 
 
 " How can I write pure English?" 
 
 " You can talk it well enough, our good Mr. Maretzek. Be- 
 
112 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 sides, we do not want ' pure English.' We only want to hear 
 your ' Confessions.' " 
 
 What was to be done? With the publishers I remon- 
 strated, but in vain. They were determined to employ my 
 pen. Offers were made to provide me with a literary cicerone, 
 to introduce my penmanship to the public, and a gentle force 
 was employed upon me to compel my decision. Then it was 
 that I rushed from the world, secluded myself in Staten 
 Island with an English Grammar, an English Dictionary, and 
 an English friend, who has expatriated himself to become a 
 citizen of this free and " enlightened Republic," and made up 
 my mind, with the assistance of these three indispensable ne- 
 cessaries to my task, to attempt its completion. 
 
 It is under these circumstances that you will receive this 
 letter, no sooner than the rest of the public. If yon reply 
 to it, Lablache, I shall be most happy to hear from you. 
 Should you not do so, I shall console myself with the idea 
 that my trouble is more than repaid, by the kindly smiles of 
 those fair ones, to gratify whose charmingly feminine curiosity 
 I have taken up the pen. 
 
 You must certainly remember that memorable evening, 
 when the Swedish Nightingale first struck a note before a 
 London audience. 
 
 It was in the spring of 1847, and all London, which you 
 will agree with me is a tolerably large city, was excited to 
 the highest pitch of curiosity touching the result of her debut. 
 This was not, that her artistic reputation was then so great as 
 it afterwards became. On the result of that evening, how- 
 ever, depended- a musical question which was shaking the 
 operatic world of London to its centre. This question was 
 two-fold. First, whether Grisi should abdicate or divide the 
 throne which she had occupied for some fifteen years in that 
 capital, as the acknowledged Queen of the Lyric Drama. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 113 
 
 While, secondly, it was to be decided whether the recognized 
 impressario of Her Majesty's Theatre in the Haymarket, 
 Lumley, was to secure the rank so long indisputably held by 
 it, or if the insurgent vocal forces under the command of 
 Delafield, the son of the great brewer, were to do battle suc- 
 cessfully with him on behalf of Italian Opera newly domi- 
 ciled in Covent Garden. It must be confessed, Lablache, 
 that it was a very pretty quarrel as it then stood. 
 
 On the one side were the musical Tories of Operadom, the 
 friends of Giulia Grisi, Mario, then in his very prime, the 
 almost worn-out Persiani, and Tamburini, no more than the 
 memory of that which he had been. 
 
 On the other side were the Radical Reformers and Whigs 
 of Music, who had found a Cobden in Jenny Lind, while 
 they patted you upon the back, as a proof that their change 
 was not intended to be destructive. 
 
 Those contributed as much by their opposition to raise the 
 public excitement, as these did by their puffing, diplomatizing, 
 biography-writing, and eulogizing. 
 
 Two hours before the commencement of the Opera on that 
 evening, Her Majesty's Theatre was crowded. Every class 
 of society, from crowned and coroneted heads to the shop- 
 keeper, on whom their existence was built up, was repre- 
 sented in that audience. In the first tier of boxes, on the 
 right from the stage, the second box was occupied by Vic- 
 toria and the Prince-Consort. In that next her, sat the old 
 Duke of Cambridge, with his bald head glistening in the 
 shining gas-light. Beside him was the Queen-Dowager. 
 But I implore the pardon of these distinguished personages. 
 They were not in the house two hours before the commence- 
 ment of the Opera. Other boxes were occupied by the 
 "Iron" Duke, as he was called, and his charming daughter, 
 the Marchioness of Douro, since his death the Duchess of 
 
114 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Wellington; the kindly-hearted Duke of Devonshire, and 
 the leading members of the British aristocracy, with the 
 representatives of foreign courts, until the last box to the 
 left of the stage. In this, almost exactly opposite the Queen, 
 sat a thin, small, pale-green gentleman, with a magnificent 
 pair of huge moustaches. He was almost looked upon as 
 an intruder in that range of royalty and aristocracy. This 
 was no other than the fugitive from the Castle of Ham, the 
 Prince Louis Napoleon, at the present moment Napoleon III., 
 and one of, if not perhaps the most powerful of the Euro- 
 pean Sovereigns. It has even been hinted to me, that this 
 box was a token of courtesy from Mr. Lumley to the then 
 little-distinguished stranger, which his means did not allow 
 him to pay for. In the second tier sat many of the noblesse 
 and leading members of the fashionable world, with a fair 
 sprinkling of the moneyed autocracy of London. In the third 
 and fourth, were the usual varieties of the wealthy Plebs, 
 while in the pit-tier a few of the editors of the leading 
 journals might be seen, mingled with the bachelor scions of 
 the nobility, and not a few of their cheres amies,vrh.ose flash- 
 ing jewelry, beauty, and bare white arms, might well have 
 shamed those of the more respectable, though, in many cases, 
 not a whit purer portion of the audience. 
 
 The Orchestra-stalls were filled by a mixture of the musical 
 bachelordom of the aristocracy and wealth of England, while 
 the pit was tenanted by people of all and every class. Half 
 a guinea, a black dress-coat, and white cravat, being the ne- 
 cessary passports to this location. 
 
 You, yourself, venerable Lablache — such you are now, 
 although you scarcely were then — were placed in a prosce- 
 nium-box on the second tier, in such a position that you 
 could be seen by, at least, two-thirds of the audience. Of 
 the fact, whether this was purely accidental, or had been 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 115 
 
 so arranged by Mr. Lumley, I am obliged to confess myself 
 ignorant. The truth, is, that I never remember questioning 
 him upon the subject. It must, however, be owned, between 
 ourselves, Lablache, that it was a most admirable arrange- 
 ment, and demands our approbation on account of its appa- 
 rent forethought. 
 
 The Opera of the evening was " Roberto il Diavolo." Jenny 
 Lind, the new debutante in London, was to appear in the part 
 of Alice, while the remainder of the principal parts were sup- 
 ported by Castellan, Fraschini, Gardoni and Staudigl. 
 
 Perhaps, the three Italians were not altogether fitted to cope 
 with the comparative mysteries of. German music, while the 
 one German was not too well versed in the amenities of the 
 Italian language. However, who in the whole audience cared 
 two straws for this? The only object of popular attention 
 upon this evening, was the Swedish candidate for an Operatic 
 immortality. 
 
 When she appeared, I was standing in the first wing to the 
 left of the stage, and never before in Germany, or afterwards 
 in England and America, have I heard her sing so exquisitely 
 as she did in the delivery of her first Rornanza. 
 
 Applause of course marked the pauses of the vocalist, but 
 it was somewhat sparse and scattered. The public was evi- 
 dently pleased, but, as evidently had it determined to judge 
 her carefully, before it placed her on a par, in its estimation, 
 with its long-established favorite, Grisi. In addition to this, 
 it was not familiarly acquainted with the music of Meyerbeer, 
 while the style of the Swedish Nightingale, as she was subse- 
 quently named, was essentially new. On these accounts, the 
 public seemed determined to hold back in its decision upon 
 her merits. Like a cautious judge,. it wished not to compro- 
 mise its opinion too early. Knowing how much is dependent 
 upon the first impression made upon it by an entirely new 
 
116 EEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 artist, I frankly own to a feeling of some regret, that her first 
 appearance in aristocratic London should have been made in 
 an Opera which could allow the public no means of compari- 
 son. Her vocal inches could not be computed at the side of 
 Persiani, or rated against the stature of Grisi. At this time, 
 neither of them knew the music of Meyerbeer. Again, had 
 she come out in a well-known work, with you, my dear La- 
 blache, at her side, success, as I reflected, would not so long 
 have been dubious. You would most infallibly have put the 
 public into a pleasant humor. It would have forgotten its 
 judgment, and been alone disposed to admiration. These re- 
 flections were suddenly dispersed by a long and most beautiful 
 shake from the Swedish vocalist, in the cadenza of the Ro- 
 mance. The next note would have been its concluding one, 
 but this she never reached audibly. Scarcely had the shake 
 terminated, than one madly enthusiastic, roaring, thirty-six- 
 pounder-like " Brava-ah-ah" interrupted her. 
 
 This was immediately followed by a prolonged and deafen- 
 ing storm of applause, which was mingled with laughter and 
 outcries. 
 
 " That was Lablache. Did you hear him ?" 
 
 " Yes ! it was his voice." 
 
 " Look at him. There he is in the proscenium-box." 
 
 The audience had recognized your potent lungs, my white- 
 haired friend, and, in a moment, the spell was broken. Criti- 
 cal judge as it was, it had laughed, not at her, although upon 
 her account. It had laughed at you. 
 
 Your " Brava" fell like a bomb-shell into the camp of the 
 coalition of Covent Garden. It ruined Persiani, Delafield, 
 Hasland and Webster. Your " Brava" made the fortune of 
 Jenny Lind, as well as that of Lumley (who unfortunately 
 could not keep it) and of Barnum. Great as a vocal artist 
 as you are, never before had your vigorous lungs produced 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 117 
 
 such a startling effect as they did upon that evening. It 
 settled the standing of Jenny Lind as a vocalist in public 
 estimation, while it saved Lumley from, the bankruptcy that 
 threatened him, and averted from Her Majesty's Theatre the 
 immediate ruin which was staring it in the face. 
 
 At all events, whether you were really carried away by 
 Jenny's delicious singing, or whether your thundering "Brava" 
 was a preconcerted explosion, it must candidly be admitted 
 that the spoiled child of fortune owes a great deal to it. 
 
 The look of grotesque astonishment which you summon 
 into your face, my large friend, for most certainly if you have 
 continued on the increase, you must be indubitably large at 
 the present moment, is altogether useless. It is in vain that, 
 with a merry twinkle in your gray eye in spite of your as- 
 tonishment, you ask me wherefore I call her " the spoiled 
 child of fortune ?" Fruitlessly, you tell me that she had to 
 struggle with unheard-of difficulties in her early years, and 
 that her first singing-master in Stockholm advised her to 
 abandon a profession for which she had not that most neces- 
 sary of materials — voice. You may, if you so will it, remind 
 me that by her indomitable energy and continuous studies, 
 she at length found that voice which she felt must be some- 
 where hidden within her chest ; but, in spite of this, that she 
 was obliged to appear and sing in small and secondary parts, 
 to secure a living ; and then, when after long and wearisome 
 struggles she had at length arrived in Paris, through the in- 
 trigues of Madame Stolz (the Egeria of the managerial Numa, 
 Leon Pillet) that even a trial was refused her. 
 
 All this, my respected friend, may, or may not be true, in 
 a purely literary point of view. This I shall not, for a mo- 
 ment, take upon myself to determine. 
 
 But every artist, my good Lablache, has had, as you can 
 judge from your own personal experience, his or her time of 
 
118 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 difficulties, and his or her period of good fortune. "When 
 Jenny's moment of chance came, she had fortune enough for 
 any half dozen of vocalists. When it broke upon her, it was 
 with no modest and unpretendingly shadowy twilight. No 
 sooner had it done so, than one of the greatest composers of the 
 age (I allude to Meyerbeer) took her by the hand, and 
 pushed her before the world as one of the chosen exponents 
 of his own genius. Not only did he recognize her talent, but 
 he wrote for the almost unknown aspirant for vocal distinc- 
 tion, his Opera of " Vielka," now re-baptized by him as 
 " L'Etoile du Nord." 
 
 When, subsequently to this, she had to make her German 
 reputation an European one, she found one of the greatest 
 impressarios of the period, whose only chance of saving him- 
 self from ruin, lay in her engagement. To struggle against 
 the opposition of the insurgent Italians at Covent Garden, 
 Benjamin Lumley was obliged to throw his money, his credit, 
 his influence, and his undoubted talent for management into 
 the balance, in her favor. Nay ! when she decided on quit- 
 ting the stage, yet still hankered after the golden price her 
 notes had previously b.rought her, she had the luck to discover 
 one of the greatest " humbugs'' of the day, as he has himself 
 avowed with a candor of the most ingenuous fashion, who, 
 finding himself for the moment rather short of work, felt 
 somewhat inclined to -dabble in Music, with the innocently 
 speculative view of making money. This individual was, it 
 it is needless for me to say, the singularly simple-hearted and 
 guileless P. T. Barnum. 
 
 In fact, scarcely had Jenny Lind undertaken her arduous 
 peregrinations in search of the toison doree of artistic reputa- 
 tion, than a Mentor presented himself to her in the person of 
 Giacomo Meyerbeer. 
 
 When she had succeeded in her first toil, and had shred a 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 119 
 
 fair portion of it with his assistance, she became more ambi- 
 tious. Wishing to seize on the diadem of the then reigning 
 Queen of Song, a Talleyrand stood at her elbow. This was 
 Benjamin Lumley. 
 
 Then having gained, both reputation and position, her wish 
 was simply to pull the pocket-strings of the world. The 
 Robert Macaire offered himself in the form of Phineas 
 Barnum. 
 
 Under the protecting tutelage of Meyerbeer, she w^s as 
 the unconscious nightingale who sings for the mere sake of 
 singing. When in the guardianship of Lumley, she became 
 the mere peacock of vocalism, airing her many-colored notes 
 in the mid-day sun, for the purpose of deafening us to the 
 song of others. And at last, with Barnum, she displayed 
 herself as the Syren whose delicate tones warbled the Ameri- 
 can gold-finches into her outstretched fingers. 
 
 Now with Meyerbeer and Lumley you are well acquainted. 
 Of the amiable Barnum, my dear Lablache, I should suppose 
 that you know next to nothing, unless indeed your literary 
 studies have induced you to read a volume which, with a sub- 
 lime and happy audacity, he has named his Autobiography. 
 In this curious work, he candidly owns that he first gave him- 
 self the name of the "Prince of Humbugs." Now "yvwdi 
 trsaurov " is a maxim, and a very capital one, first laid down 
 by Socrates, or Plato, or some other of the Greek philoso- 
 phers ; and nobody who knows or has known Barnum, will 
 deny that he has shown a strange amount of self-appreciation, 
 although a scanty amount of republicanism, in awarding him- 
 self this title. 
 
 But — " What is humbug?" you ask, 
 
 Exhibiting a fly through a microscope and passing it off as 
 an elephant to one who pays, would, my dear Lablache, be a 
 very decided humbug. 
 
120 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 "Per Baeco!" you exclaim, "but such a proceeding would 
 come, in Europe, under the head of obtaining money by false 
 pretences." 
 
 So it would here, my venerated friend, if it, or something 
 similar to it, took place in the commercial world. In the 
 world of amusement, it is altogether different. 
 
 Thus, Barnum exhibited an aged negress as the nurse of 
 George Washington, and proved the truth of this assertion by 
 documents. It was discovered that the assertion was false. 
 In his Autobiography, he serenely admits that the affair might 
 be a hoax, but states that he purchased woman and docu- 
 ments from a Mr. Lindsay. Is it at all probable that the 
 " Prince of Humbugs " could have been " humbugged " by a 
 Lindsay ? 
 
 In a similar way he made money from a real mermaid, 
 manufactured from a monkey and a fish-tail; displayed a 
 black spotted with white, and a woolly horse, with many 
 other curiosities of a similar kind. 
 
 "And do the people of America patronize him?" you in- 
 quire of me, with a look of sublime wonder mantling over 
 your face. 
 
 Of course they do. At first, they flocked to his exhibitions 
 in scores, because they believed all that he announced. Now, 
 they rush there, or would rush to anything he introduced, in 
 hundreds, simply to ascertain in what manner he is about to 
 "humbug" them this time. 
 
 Should he once attempt not to " humbug" them, and dare 
 to represent what he exhibits as it really is, he would be a 
 lost man, or rather should I say, a lost manager. His pres- 
 tige would be gone forever, for his reputation as the " Prince 
 of Humbugs " would be forfeited. 
 
 Yet the man is a genius. With his extraordinary talent 
 for combination, had he received a better education, and been 
 
OPERA MANAGES IN AMERICA. 121 
 
 thrown by those chances, which are Destiny, into a higher 
 sphere of action, he would have made a first-rate minister of 
 finance, and have retired a " millionaire/' as he is now, ac- 
 cording to his own accounts. As it is, he is contented, pro- 
 vided you will only coincide in the justice of the title he has 
 bestowed upon himself. For one, let me confess that I do, 
 and very fully. 
 
 Now, when Barnum engaged Jenny Lind, he had very 
 decidedly but a scanty faith in the taste and discrimination of 
 the American Public. In the power of music over it, l»e had 
 next to none. His creed was " humbug," and, consequently, 
 the real merit of Jenny was no guarantee with him for her 
 success. Her visit to this country might have exercised the 
 most salutary influence upon the taste and development of 
 Art in the New World. Blind by nature to every considera- 
 tion of this character, he took the knowledge of a rail-road 
 conductor* as his best authority in musical matters, and came 
 to the conclusion that, as an artist, the fair Swede would be 
 at the best a very uncertain speculation. In consequence of 
 this, he determined upon working her as a curiosity, as he had 
 done with the Feejee Mermaid, and other of his pseudo-ir- 
 regularities of nature. It was purely a matter of the most 
 perfect indifference to him, whether she produced any enthu- 
 siasm as a songstress, provided she excited curiosity, as angel, 
 woman, or demon. No sooner, therefore, had he ascertained 
 the extent of knowledge respecting her upon the part of a 
 railway-conductor, than he went to work at the enlightenment 
 of the people. 
 
 Reputation was manufactured for her, by wholesale. It 
 was not merely made by the inch, but was prepared by the 
 cart-load. 
 
 * See page 303 of his Autobiography. 
 6 
 
122 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Letters from England were written in New York anterior 
 to the arrival of each steamer, and by the highly moral 
 Phineas were passed into the columns of the newspapers as 
 genuine epistles from the other side of the Atlantic. These 
 letters were received and published by the New York press, 
 with a bonhommie and readiness to oblige which I have never 
 seen manifested by any other press in the world. 
 
 After six months continuously employed in this manner, 
 Barnum had done what he counted upon doing. The letters 
 had been copied in every portion of the country. Public 
 curiosity had been so industriously stirred up by him, that 
 out of every five persons one would have been glad to hear, 
 but four were restlessly desirous to see her. In consequence 
 of this, the candid Phineas, my good friend, at a serenade 
 given to Jenny in Philadelphia, presented her chambermaid 
 on the balcony of the hotel to the crowd as the genuine 
 article ; while at church in Baltimore, those who were present, 
 were enraptured with the singing of Barnum's daughter, in 
 the firm conviction that she was the bona fide novelty which 
 he had fathered upon the hour. Everywhere, the curiosity 
 to see her was stronger than the enthusiasm after hearing 
 her, and great as her merit most unquestionably was, the 
 "humbug" of her manager was by far the most powerful 
 attraction to her concerts. 
 
 It was in September, 1850, that Jenny Lind arrived here, 
 Now, my good Lablache, the Opera season was to begin about 
 the middle of October. It was my second season. 
 
 Figure to yourself the position of a luckless impressario 
 with a company of Truffis and Beneventanos upon his hands, 
 and the lease of the Astor Place Opera House upon his 
 shoulders, with Jenny Lind and Barnum, real genius and 
 undoubted "humbug," in a strange copartnership, staring 
 ominously in his face. Of how quickly and decidedly the 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 123 
 
 Swede had eclipsed Grisi, Viardot- Garcia, Persiani, and 
 Alboni, in London, I had been a witness."* What could I ex- 
 pect to do with my second-rate artists ? But that my hands 
 were tied by my arrangements, and that I had not, as I must 
 honestly own, the means to do anything else, I will confess 
 that I should have been glad enough to give up the whole 
 concern. However, there was one decided consolation. This 
 was, that I had nothing to lose except my theatrical properties. 
 
 It was, however, necessary to do something. My old 
 artists were impossible cards, for me to attempt playing in 
 Barnum's manner. They were, alas ! too well known. 
 
 At the same time, it appeared almost impossible to induce 
 a first-class reputation to come to America, at the same period 
 as Jenny Lind. Necessity, however, urged me to try, and if 
 successful, to enter upon the contest with the "Prince of 
 Humbugs," using his own weapons. 
 
 My choice fell upon the Signora Teresa Parodi. 
 
 She was an artist of sufficient talent to realize the expecta- 
 tions which I might raise upon her behalf. I had heard her 
 at Her Majesty's Theatre, in London, as Norma, Luerezia 
 Borgia, and Donna Anna. I knew her to have been Pasta's 
 favorite pupil, and had heard you, my dear Lablache, express 
 a favorable opinion of her undoubted merits. As soon, 
 therefore, as my choice was fixed, I wrote to my old friend 
 and employer, Lumley, and to the energetic and busy Madame 
 Puzzi, in London. I told them my situation, frankly, 
 and asked material aid from the former, in the person of 
 Teresa Parodi. 
 
 By return of mail, I received the intelligence that upon 
 receipt of a bonus of 20,000 francs, Mr. Lumley would be 
 ready to transfer his engagement with Parodi into my hands. 
 
 The money was raised, by my transferring the first receipts 
 
124 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 of the Opera House until full payment, and sent over the 
 water to him. 
 
 Then, for the first, and I am proud to say, the only time, I 
 went to work in the same manner I had seen practised by 
 Barnum. Foreign letters, puffs, portraits, biographies, were 
 manufactured under my supervision, and distributed by 
 means of the journals and the music stores throughout New 
 York. All was of no use. Public attention was absorbed 
 by Jenny Lind. Whatever I did, was against the pyramidal 
 puffing of Barnum. It was no more than the murmuring of 
 a garden streamlet as compared with the roar and thunder of 
 Niagara. In my distress, I had, however, remarked that the 
 great showman's gigantic system of eulogy had, by no means, 
 any particular rapport with Jenny's qualities as an artist. 
 He exaggerated her- virtues a la Munchausen : he proclaimed 
 her a ventriloquist, romanced about Victoria's adoration of 
 her excellencies, and fabricated charities by the bushel-full. 
 Now, as one of our German proverbs says — "when among 
 wolves, it is very necessary to yell as they do.'' It is true, 
 no one had vouched to me for its having saved him from 
 their jaws, yet, in this instance, I determined upon obeying 
 its injunctions to the letter. 
 
 One morning, therefore, I dispatched a confidential friend 
 to the office of one of the morning newspapers, and. the fol- 
 lowing dialogue took place between him and one of the 
 editors, with whom he was acquainted. 
 
 " Poor Maretzek !" said my friend, with a woeful shake of 
 the head. 
 
 " Why ! What is the matter ? " 
 
 " Well ! I suppose I ought not to tell you," he answered, 
 looking as • lugubrious as a man who is hired to weep at a 
 funeral. " But he is ruined." 
 
 "Eh! What?" 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 125 
 
 " This season will finish him." 
 
 " How is that possible ? Everybody says Parodi is very 
 great." 
 
 " Yes. Parodi would carry everything before her.'' 
 
 " "What is the matter, then ?" 
 
 " She need not be afraid even of Jenny Lind." 
 
 "Explain yourself. What is it that has happened, my 
 dear sir?" 
 
 " If I do, you must promise me the most implicit secresy." 
 
 " Most assuredly, I do." 
 
 " Poor Max would scarcely outlive it, if it were known." 
 
 " Well, I never will mention it." 
 
 " Under your pledge of the most sacred secresy " — 
 
 "Certainly!" 
 
 " I think I may tell you." 
 
 " Pray, continue." 
 
 " The truth is, that the old Duke of Devonshire has long 
 been in love with her." 
 
 " The deuce he has !" 
 
 " And when he heard that she was to visit New York, he 
 made up his mind, rushed to her feet, and offered her his for- 
 tune and coronet." 
 
 " You don 't really say so ?" 
 
 " But the worst of it is, that such a chance for the esta- 
 blishment of a vocalist does not occur every day — that is to 
 say, her establishment in life as a married woman of high 
 rank." 
 
 " I should think not, indeed. The Duchess of Devonshire !" 
 
 " Therefore, she has consented to marry him." 
 
 " And this is true ?" 
 
 " It is certain. The letter came by the last steamer. But, 
 for Heaven's sake, do not say a word about it. Remember 
 
126 REVELATIONS OF AX 
 
 poor Max Maretzek with the Astor Place and a large com- 
 pany on hand. He is decidedly ruined." 
 
 " Really, it is provoking !" 
 
 "Is it not?" 
 
 "Most undoubtedly!" 
 
 " Mind ! You have promised me to be strictly silent." 
 
 " As the grave." 
 
 Having received this promise, Lablache, my friend then 
 quitted the office of the daily journal in question, impressed 
 with the serenest of possible convictions that the luckless 
 editor had swallowed his bait, hook and all. 
 
 And so he had. Anxious to have the first of this pecu- 
 liarly piquant piece of intelligence, he suffered his promise 
 of the most implicit secresy to slip entirely from his memory. 
 Next morning, the whole story appeared, with additional em- 
 broidery, in his journal. Upon the following day, it was re- 
 peated by every daily paper in New York. In something 
 less than three weeks, it had found its way into almost every 
 newspaper from Maine to Texas, and in a fortnight more, had 
 completed its travels by one huge stride from New York to 
 San Francisco. 
 
 Biographies, portraits, and anecdotes about her, which had 
 dropped still-born from the press, were now republished, 
 admired, and listened to. 
 
 Some of the country editors even went so far as to adopt 
 Barnum's plan, and described the very trousseau with which 
 the Duke_ of Devonshire had presented her, in a foreign 
 correspondence of decidedly home-manufacture. A few of 
 them even published verbatim copies of the assumed con- 
 tract of marriage. Numberless applications were received 
 by me from musical agents, who offered to arrange my diffi- 
 culties with the Duke upon amicable terms. Letters from 
 lawyers came into my hands, which stated their writers' 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 127 
 
 readiness to start for Eu-rofe and commence a process against 
 the new Duchess. These asked only for a share of those 
 damages which they felt certain of obtaining. 
 
 My part was very clearly marked out for me, my venerable 
 friend, and it is needless to say that I stuck to it. This was 
 to answer not a single letter, and to correct no newspaper. So 
 I quietly opened my subscription list, and shortly afterwards 
 commenced the season, without the name of one of the 
 artists who formed my company having been previously 
 announced. 
 
 As may be reasonably supposed by you, my subscription 
 list was thin, nor were my houses much better. But after 
 some two weeks more, the supposed Duchess of Devonshire 
 arrived from Europe, in the Pacific, and was completely 
 astounded to find such a report in circulation. 
 
 From the day of her arrival, I announced that I should 
 accept of no more subscriptions for the season, and raised 
 the prices of admission exactly one hundred per cent. This 
 last fact dispelled all doubts of her superiority, as it was sup- 
 posed that I could not have dared to do this, with such a rival 
 attraction as Jenny Lind in the market, if I had not been 
 morally certain of her success. "Well, she appeared as 
 Norma to a crowded house, and as you know, she had talent 
 enough to sustain that reputation which my agents and 
 friends had manufactured for her. To the end of the season 
 she continued to draw excellent houses, and, instead of being 
 ruined, as I myself had predicted, with a full determination 
 were it possible to falsify my own prophecy, I carried three 
 operatic seasons in New York, Philadelphia, and Boston to a 
 triumphant close, being enabled to pay the debts of the 
 anterior season, and to close my campaign with some 
 profit. 
 
 In the mean time, Jenny Lind, under the management of 
 
128 EETELATIONS OP AN 
 
 the excellent Barnum, had made the most successful musical 
 tour on record. 
 
 Indeed, if any reliance can be placed upon the statements 
 given in Mr. Barnum's Autobiography, the proceeds of the 
 ninety-three concerts given by her while with him, amounted 
 to some $700,000. But as the romantic fiction which pur- 
 ports to contain the details of his life is full of contradictions 
 and improbabilities, it may also be presumed that the above 
 figures are slightly exaggerated. 
 
 It is, at any rate, astonishing how a man of such marked 
 shrewdness as the worthy Phineas, could have been guilty of 
 so many blunders as he has perpetrated in his biography. 
 
 But it would be too wearisome, as well for myself 
 as for you, did I expose all the contradictions which even I 
 can detect in it, in those portions that relate more exclusively 
 to his Jenny Lind musical campaign. Two or three exam- 
 ples may suffice. Thus on page 313 you may read as 
 follows : — 
 
 " Jenny looked at me' with astonishment. She could not 
 comprehend my proposition. After I had repeated it, and 
 she fully understood its import, 'she grasped me cordially by 
 the hand, and exclaimed, ' Mr. Barnum, you are a gentleman 
 of honor. You are generous. It is just as Mr. Sates told me. 
 I will sing for you as long as you please. I will sing for you 
 in America — in Europe — anywhere !' " 
 which is, upon the same page, almost immediately succeeded 
 by this : — 
 
 " Upon drawing the new contract, a condition was inserted, 
 by Miss Lind's request, that she should have the right to 
 terminate the engagement with the one hundredth concert, 
 instead of the hundred and fiftieth, if she should desire to do 
 so, upon paying me $25,000." 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 129 
 
 Now, how is it to be understood, that Jenny wishes to sing 
 'for her skilful entrepreneur " as long as he may please," when 
 almost immediately afterwards she stipulates with him for 
 the possibility of breaking her engagement before it comes 
 to an end ? And, indeed, at page 339, you will read, or have 
 already-read, the following : — 
 
 " At about the eighty-fifth concert, therefore, I was most 
 happy to learn from her lips that she had concluded to pay 
 the forfeiture of twenty-five thousand dollars, and terminate 
 the concerts with the one hundredth.'' 
 
 Allow me to inquire how or why he was " most happy" to 
 learn this from her lips? Have the concerts not been alto- 
 gether so profitable as he would have the American public 
 believe, or is it, that Jenny herself is not au fond that 
 " angel" which he had in his first moment of enthusiastic 
 certainty dubbed her? Was she capricious, self-willed, or 
 difficult to manage, like any other prima donna? This he 
 does not confess, although it would seem that the disinterested 
 Swede, who had in her angelic nature promised to sing for 
 him as long as he pleased, in Europe — America, or anywhere 
 else, did not particularly relish finishing even the first 
 hundred concerts with Barnum at the head of affairs. At 
 all events, page 340, there is a copy of a letter from Jenny 
 which reads thus : — 
 
 " To P. T. Barnum, Esq. 
 
 " My Dear Sir : — I accept your proposition to close our 
 contract to-night, at the end of the ninety-third concert, on 
 condition of my paying you seven thousand dollars in addi- 
 tion to the sum I forfeit under the condition of finishing the 
 engagement at the end of one hundred concerts. 
 
 " I am, dear Sir, yours truly, 
 
 "Jenny Lind. 
 "Philadelphia, 9th of June, 1851." 
 
130 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 So that we are forced to conclude the able Manager, who 
 had dealt in Giants, Orang-outangs, Dwarfs, Generals, Ele- • 
 phants, Bearded Women, Boa Constrictors, Feejee Mermaids 
 and Alligators, was unable to manage one little " angel" of a 
 prima donna. 
 
 And what is the reason assigned by him for the abrupt 
 termination of her engagement after the ninety-third con- 
 cert ? Can the readers of his volume, my good friend, really 
 believe that Jenny broke it, and paid him $7000 more 
 forfeit than that which she had determined to pay him for 
 not concluding the 150 concerts, originally stipulated upon, 
 simply because he had forced her to sing in a " horse-circus," 
 which, as he says, had been cleansed and fitted up before for 
 Italian Opera by myself ? 
 
 Had not the divine Jenny sung before, and that without 
 expressing the slightest objection, in a pork-house in Madi- 
 son ? Why is it, that she now prefers to pay $7000 to sing- 
 ing in a horse-circus ? 
 
 Here is, evidently, some mystery, which the great Auto- 
 biographer ought to have explained. 
 
 As he did not do so, my amiable friend, you will, I should 
 presume, not be offended with me for volunteering an expla- 
 nation for him. 
 
 Shortly before she was called upon to sing in the horse- 
 circus in Philadelphia, Mr. Barnum's great Asiatic Travel- 
 ling Menagerie arrived in New York, and made its triumphant 
 progress through the streets of this metropolis. When the 
 elephants, ostriches and monkeys paraded through Broad- 
 way, preceded by bands of music, tawdry inscriptions traced 
 upon banners, and other mummeries, in order to excite the 
 curiosity of those who passed it, it so happened that Jenny 
 Lind was standing at her window, and observed the proces- 
 sion. There, she seemed to remark the same faces in the 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMEKICA. 131 
 
 crowd which had greeted her own arrival, the same enthu- 
 siastic brows which had followed her carriage on that memo- 
 rable occasion, and the same demonstrations which had taken 
 place upon her advent in New York. 
 
 Is it not possible that, upon this morning, Jenny found 
 out, in Barnum's eyes she was no more than his Woolly 
 Horse, or one of his monkeys ? Would it be astonishing, 
 that the Swedish Nightingale felt hurt in both her womanly 
 and artistic pride ? 
 
 If, within a few days afterwards, Barnum forced her to 
 sing in a horse-circus, which had not " been cleaned out and 
 fitted up by Max Maretzek," my dear Lablache, inasmuch as 
 the aforesaid Max Maretzek never played there at all, until 
 some three months after Jenny Lind had inaugurated it for 
 musical entertainments, can it be marvelled at, that she should 
 become entirely disgusted with the management of the 
 " Prince of Humbugs," and preferred paying $7000 addi- 
 tional forfeit to staying another moment under his guidance ? 
 What a striking contrast is presented between the mutual 
 sentiments of Jenny and P. T. B., at the time of their sepa- 
 ration in Philadelphia, and those which they had experienced 
 towards each other in Havana and Charleston !* Especially 
 in Havana, would it seem, that their life had been purely 
 patriarchal in its cordiality. They there sported and amused 
 themselves, like shepherds and shepherdesses in the age of — 
 
 "Tytyre, tu recubans sub tegmine fagi" — 
 or, in a German Idyl of Gessner. 
 
 You may, indeed, see a woodcut somewhere about page 330, 
 which may be regarded as a singularly close representation 
 of one of these Idyllic scenes. The gentle Swede had con- 
 sented to receive the tight-rope dancer Vivalla,ahd his learned 
 dog. In this cut, she is represented as a young girl, haying no 
 
 * See pages 334^25 and 326 of Barnum's Autobiography. 
 
132 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 more than some seventeen or eighteen summers, kneeling on 
 the floor in front of the fire-place, (in Havana, who has ever 
 seen a fire-place ?) fondling a large dog. The Signor Vivalla 
 stands on one side with his cap in his hand, and a large hook- 
 nose, looking amiable, while the agreeable P. T. Barnum 
 figures behind the group with a marvellously benevolent 
 regard in his physiognomy. Anything more deliriously 
 patriarchal it would literally be impossible to conceive. No- 
 thing, perhaps, is here lacking, save a portrait of Joyce Heth 
 and the Mermaid, with a slight hint of the Woolly Horse in 
 the background, to give it the look of a veritable " Happy 
 Family." 
 
 But, in addition to this, my most friendly basso, you will 
 find it actually upon record in this precious Autobiography, 
 that the Historiographer of the Lind-mania wept — indeed, 
 that he positively could not restrain his " tears of joy." Oh ! 
 my amiable Lablache, what a chance was here lost ! Could 
 he but have perpetuated those diamond-drops, which he 
 speaks of, what an invaluable addition would his own per- 
 son, in its weeping state, have made to his museum ! You 
 may also see, somewhere near this, how Jenny Lind also 
 " cries with joy," and how she actually (so Barnum at any rate 
 says) kisses that Royal Slip of " Humbug." Really, all this 
 is too affecting, my excellent friend ! 
 
 Such real, such true, and such genuine emotion, expressed 
 in such a candid and natural manner, makes me also overflow 
 with tears. 
 
 Yes ! I weep, Lablache, with tears of joy, in merely speak- 
 ing of it. The page blisters with them. It is about to pro- 
 duce the same effect on you, and I refrain from prolonging 
 my observations, lest you might melt into a tarn of some- 
 thing the same size aa the Dead Sea, and London or Paris, 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 133 
 
 ■whichever city you are now in, might be swallowed up in it 
 as Sodom and Gomorrha were in that Lake. 
 
 Yet still, in spite of their mutual exhibitions to each other 
 of weeping sensibility, that fine-hearted, benevolent, and ad- 
 mirable old " humbug," was unable, efficiently, to harmonize in 
 Philadelphia with the amiable, meek, and charitable " Angel," 
 who embraces the " learned dog," as we see, and kisses Bar- 
 num, as we are told. Nay ! when Jenny offers him a glass 
 of wine, and requests him to drink it to her own happiness 
 and prosperity, he replies thus :— 
 
 " Miss Lind, I do not think you can ask any other favor 
 on earth which I would not gladly grant ; but I am a teeto- 
 taller, and must beg to be permitted to drink your health and 
 happiness in a glass of cold water." 
 
 Yet, upon nearly every second page in his book, you may 
 see how he performed his practical jokes in bar-rooms, 
 saloons, and country-taverns, for the bet or payment of 
 " drinks all round."* 
 
 Now, should you, good Lablache, wish to know more of 
 the contradictions in this work, if by any chance you should 
 not have read it, let me advise you to procure it, which you 
 may now probably do at half-price, inasmuch as ? with a much 
 keener appreciation of its value than he formerly had, P. T. 
 B. has knocked off seventy-five cents from the dollar and 
 a half he had affixed to it. It abounds in invention and im- 
 probability, sufficient to satisfy the travelling Quack in the 
 Opera founded upon the old tale of the " Maid and the Mag- 
 pie." He talks about everything which interests himself, and 
 tells his readers nothing about anything which interests them, 
 save as much as they have already known. You will find 
 descriptions of his grandfather and his Shanghai-roosters, of 
 
 * See pages 73, 79, 89, 145 (application to become a bar-keeper) 
 147, 185, 187, 249; 878, &c. &c. 
 
134 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Ivy Island and Iranistan, of Lottery schemes and Buffalo 
 hunts. Rules how to make a fortune will be given you, which 
 are very certainly not the rules by which his own was made. 
 You will learn how to palm off a Negro- woman on the public, 
 as the nurse of "Washington, and have a faithful description 
 (at the least so it must be presumed) of the ceremonies at 
 his birth, his marriage and his — 
 
 No ! no ! I was about so say even of his — obsequies. 
 
 Yet Charles V. dictated the terms of his interment, himself, 
 and rehearsed it during his life-time. In order to make his 
 Autobiography complete, ought not Barnum to have given 
 us the programme of his funeral rites ? 
 
 You may imagine, my l.arge friend, for I know you have a 
 superabundance of the vis comica in your imagination, a 
 group of young "Mermaids," crowned with myrtle, opening 
 the procession and scattering immortelles upon his path to 
 eternity. Six " Halifax Giants" should bear the sarcophagus 
 of the great showman. The tassels of the pall (made of six 
 Jenny Lind " posters") should be supported by six " Fat 
 Women." Behind the coffin should be led his " Woolly" bat- 
 tle horse, by the " Negro" who had consented to turn white, 
 once more, expressly for this occasion. Funereal hymns 
 might be screeched out by those youthful vocalists who had 
 taken the prizes at the " Baby Show." " Faber's Automa- 
 ton" should follow, for the purpose of pronouncing his fune- 
 ral oration, while a regiment of the " Sons of Temperance" 
 should file after it, headed by the venerable General " Tom 
 Thumb." His " Wax Figures" might melt away in an un- 
 availing sorrow, while the " Bearded Lady" would pull the 
 black bristles from her chin, in sublime despair. Stockhold- 
 ers of the " Crystal Palace" and the original " Proprietors of 
 the Fire-Annihilator" might be weeping bitterly, and a depu- 
 tation of his colleagues, the moral, honest and pious " showmen' 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 135 
 
 of America, could bring up the rear, in deep mourning, and 
 doing their utmost not to laugh. 
 
 This would make a truly magnificent exhibition, my dear 
 Lablache, and, I trust that I may live to see it — of course upon 
 the payment of 25 cents admission. Believe me, that I re- 
 main, 
 
 Yours, most truly, 
 
 &c. &c. &c. 
 
FOURTH LETTER. 
 
 TO PROFESSOR JOSEPH FISCHO F, VIENNA. 
 
 Recollections of earlier years — Successful Opera-Managers — Barbaja, 
 Dr. Veron, Don Franscisco Marty y Torrens — The Havana Opera- 
 Troupe, Steffenone, Bosio, Tedesco, Salvi, Bettini, Lorini, Marini, 
 Badiali, Coletti, BofEesini — Glances behind the Scenes — Opera at 
 Castle Garden. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 139 
 
 LETTER IY. 
 
 TO PROFESSOR JOSEPH FISCHOF, VIENNA. 
 
 New York, August, 1855. 
 Excellent Friend : — 
 
 In taking up my pen and drawing before me the sheet of 
 paper with the purpose of, at present, addressing you, I am 
 unable to suppress the many remembrances which throng upon 
 me. Albeit, this letter is destined, in spite of its German- 
 English, for publication, and consequently the public will claim 
 the right of becoming my confidant in all which I may herein 
 say to you ; I cannot entirely stifle the recollections of my earli- 
 est years. Memories, even as I trace your name, come strug- 
 gling back into my mind. Youth and boyhood are too power- 
 fully welded into all our lives, to be brushed entirely away by 
 the subsequent chance and change of our existence. 
 
 Therefore is it, that my pen places upon the paper an ac- 
 knowledgment of my gratitude for all your kindness ; and regis- 
 ters its remembrance of the encouragement which you, the well- 
 known maestro, gave the unfortunate tyro in his passion for 
 melody. 
 
 Through your interference in my behalf, I was allowed to 
 embrace a musical career. To your kindness do I owe it, that 
 my parents permitted me to become an artist. Possibly, my 
 dear Professor, it was a rash longing upon my part and an 
 
140 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 unwise benevolence upon your own, which enabled me to do 
 bo. But not being one of those discontented individuals who 
 are never happy save when quarrelling with their destiny, I 
 chide neither at you, nor censure my own determination. Suf- 
 ficient is it for me to know that I have embraced the most 
 arduous of professions, and that I am now perforce obliged to 
 pursue the career of an artist. 
 
 Then, no more than a beardless boy of some seventeen 
 years, at College I had swallowed the Greek and Roman clas- 
 sics without doing any harm to the digestive faculties of my 
 brain. As a proof of this, it may be mentioned that they are 
 now almost Completely forgotten by me. If my memory tells 
 me that there was such a historian as Thucydides, such a ro- 
 manticist as Hesiod, and such poets as Catullus, Juvenal, or 
 Terence, believe me that it is all it can do. The Lectures on 
 Philosophy, Metaphysics, Geometry, Logic, and the Common 
 Law, were attended by me. These have served me but little, 
 although they were destined by my father to direct me in my 
 course of life. He had already mapped it out for me. The 
 truth is, I was to be either a doctor medicines, or should I 
 chance to prefer it, a doctor juris. 
 
 In the mean time, I had imbibed a strong dislike to fight- 
 ing out the quarrels of other people in a black gown, and had 
 contracted an invincible repugnance to scalpels and dead bo- 
 dies. 
 
 Living only for Music, my youthful fancies reverenced no- 
 thing but Art. 
 
 Already in the last two years of my collegiate experience, 
 the works of Mozart, Weber, Rossini, and the older masters, 
 had more charms for me than the mathematical problem first 
 worked out by Pythagoras, and called by the vulgar, the pons 
 asiiiorum. My musical enthusiasm venerated Mendelssohn and 
 Meyerbeer, far more than my studious nature respected the 
 
OPEEA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 141 
 
 metaphysical dogmas of the Romanist priest who was one of 
 our professors. Indeed, often when our admirable instructors 
 endeavored to make us comprehend their Tables of Logarithms, 
 or logically argued the necessity for an origin of the World, 
 trying to prove the existence of a God with algebraic figures 
 (which argument and proof never said as much, I may be 
 permitted to observe, as does the first line in the Book of 
 Genesis,) my wandering ideas had strayed far from the lec- 
 ture-room, and were occupied in the composition of an an- 
 dante grazioso, or in modelling the concluding bars of some 
 allegro furioso. Nevertheless, I always managed to squeeze 
 myself through the difficulties of an Examination, until, at 
 length, the critical moment had arrived. 
 
 It was determined that I should be a surgeon. Consequent- 
 ly, I had to enter the dissection-room. 
 
 At this moment in my life, my nervous feelings at the 
 thoughts of that which must be undergone, were by no means 
 soothed on my introduction to the locality, hallowed, as my 
 Professor had told me, by the first blush of Science. 
 
 On entering the well-ventilated Hall, the Beadle of the Uni- 
 versity had just put up to auction the mortal remains of some 
 poor fellow who had hung himself, thereby placing his body 
 within the legal reach of a dissecting-knife. 
 
 It was the first dead body I had ever seen. Such a fright- 
 ful impression did it make upon me, that for weeks afterwards 
 were my waking thoughts and sleeping dreams haunted by that 
 blue and livid face with its ghastly and open eyes. 
 
 Two old students, who, during the auction, had been eating 
 their breakfast, consisting of cold sausages and bread and 
 cheese, were fortunate enough to become its enviable proprie- 
 tors. When knocked down to them, they had finished their meal 
 and rushed up to their prize. They turned it over and han- 
 dled it, playing with it as babies play with their dolls, while 
 
142 EEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 my flesh was creeping over my bones with a painfully unmiti- 
 gated disgust. ■ Then, they sold out portions of it in a carefully 
 modelled imitation of the auctioneering capacity 1 of the Beadle. 
 At last, they removed it to the dissecting-table. Imagine then, 
 my good Professor, the indescribable loathing and horror which 
 seized upon me, when I saw one of the identical knives which 
 had operated in dividing the sausages, and cutting up the 
 bread and cheese, thrust into the dead man's body. Had it 
 been thrust into my own flesh, the emotion could not have been 
 one whit more horrible. I felt that knife passing through my 
 very soul. 
 
 Leaping up, I rushed from the hall. What passed between 
 me and my parents, I have no distinct remembrance of, but it 
 was decided that Max Maretzek should no more return to the 
 Surgical College. 
 
 After this, it was determined that I should devote myself to 
 Music. The life of an artist, at that time, seemed to me the 
 only reasonable and honorable existence for any man. 
 
 Consequently, instead of frequenting lecture-rooms and col- 
 leges, I sat down to complete an Opera which had been already 
 commenced. What young composer does not write an Opera ? 
 In the innocence of my youthful belief, the said Opera was to 
 carry me straight along the road to Fame and Fortune. The 
 more my work advanced, the more evidently did it become, in 
 my opinion, a chef d'auvre. It was bound (so, at least, did I be- 
 lieve) to make a profound sensation, and«arn forme an equality 
 with the greatest composers. Dreaming, even in my waking ' 
 hours, of those honors which perforce awaited me after its pro- 
 duction, and seeming to compose even as I slumbered, at length, 
 I completed that stupendous work. 
 
 Possibly, my dear Fischof, you may not remember this sub- 
 lime exhibition of my youthful genius. Far as we are apart, I 
 feel that you shake your head in answer. Yet it was to you 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 143 
 
 I ran with my first Operatic score. It was to yon that I first 
 began to play it over. Your observations I well recollect. 
 What were they ? After listening to several pieces, yon very 
 coolly advised me to continue my studies, and to persevere in 
 my determination to become a musician ! Professor ! how 
 could you be so cruel ? You told me that melody and imagin- 
 ation were abundantly manifested in the score, and these you 
 considered sufficient guarantees for the future development of 
 my musical talent. This, my dear Pischof, was the bitterest 
 cut that you could possibly have administered to the over- 
 weening vanity of a mere boy. 
 
 Let me confess to you, that for the moment, disappointment 
 overmastered me. I was indeed sadly hurt. My expectation 
 had been that you would have hailed me as a genius. I had 
 supposed that you would have been thunderstruck to discover 
 what enormous talent had suddenly come to light. In my 
 day-dreams, I had seen you, with my score under your arm in 
 a huge brown-paper parcel, hurrying off to the administration 
 of the Imperial Opera. Nay ! in my fancy, I had listened to 
 you while urging its immediate performance. 
 
 It is needless to say, that I left not my Opera for a moment 
 in your hands, after your opinion had been expressed. 
 
 Resolved, however, not to abandon my chance of immortali- 
 ty, I hurried off to Doctor Ignaz Jeitteles, the celebrated Pro- 
 fessor of ^Esthetics, and with less modesty than that which 
 had been displayed towards you, laid the score before him. 
 My request was, and sooth to say, it was made, if my memory 
 serves me, in a remarkably determined manner, that he would 
 use his influence in proposing my Opera for performance at the 
 Imperial Opera. After a few questions which he addressed to 
 me, he in all probability ascertained that I could not be easily 
 dismissed. He therefore requested me to leave my score with 
 him and to return in a few days. 
 
144 BEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 The minutes and seconds of those few days were eagerly 
 counted by me. They seemed to me so many centuries. On 
 the appointed day, I accordingly presented myself again. 
 
 " I have sent," said the worthy Doctor, " your Opera to our 
 Maestro, the Chevalier Seyfried, who, as you know, is the 
 greatest musical theorist of our days.'' 
 
 " Well I" was my answer, " and the result ?" 
 
 " He gave his opinion in writing upon its merits. Shall I 
 read it to you ?" 
 
 " Most certainly !" 
 
 " Then listen !" Here he took out a letter, unfolded it, 
 and began reading : — ■" The Opera which you have sent me, 
 has, after its perusal, actually made me feel forty years 
 younger 1 " 
 
 Here, I jumped up in a perfect ecstasy, and completely wild 
 with- delight, as the Doctor, looking at me with an ironical 
 smile on his intellectual features, asked me whether I would 
 listen to any more ? 
 
 " Yes ! yes ! continue by all means, my dearest Doctor !" 
 I stammered, out. 
 
 " Because, forty years since, I was unfortunately in the 
 habit of writing just such nonsense as this Opera is 1" 
 
 A blow with a feather would at this moment have felled me. 
 I sunk back into my chair, like an automaton, whose wheels 
 and watch-springs have done their appointed labor 
 
 " Will you hear the remainder ?" asked the professor. 
 
 " No ! This is more than enough." 
 
 " Never mind what he has said — " continued Dr. Jeitteles. 
 
 I hid my face in my hands. 
 
 " Take courage, and be attentive to what follows ; " and 
 then, resuming the letter, he thus continued : " However, 
 there are such keen modulations displayed in portions of it, to- 
 gether with such a plentiful supply of melody, that it may be 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 145 
 
 permitted me to believe, if the unknown young gentleman were 
 to begin his theoretical studies anew, he might, in some two 
 years, become an accomplished maestro, and as such, would 
 promise well for the future. In such a case, I should not tie 
 altogether disinclined to take charge of his musical education 
 myself !" 
 
 Mute with disappointment, all my hopes had vanished from 
 me. 
 
 All the pictures of Fame and honors (not yet had I began 
 to think of money, my old friend) which my imagination had 
 painted, were at once dissolved. All the castles which I had 
 reared in the morning-skies of my fancy, had melted into the 
 unsubstantial heavens. 
 
 Old Dr. Jeitteles, however, viewed the affair in a widely 
 different light. He assured me that this reply from Seyfried, 
 seemed to him flatterig enough. 
 
 " Flattering enough I" I groaned with an involuntary echo. 
 
 For his part, he had not expected half as complimentary 
 an answer. 
 
 " Half as complimentary !" Was the kind-hearted old 
 wretch not adding positive insult to injury ? 
 
 He, consequently, advised me to take advantage of the hon- 
 orable offer which the Chevalier had implied at the conclusion 
 of his letter, and to obtain permission from my parents to ter- 
 minate my musical studies under his care. Leaving the Doctor, 
 I went homeward, however, with the resolution to abandon the 
 profession of my choice, and rush into bone-setting or process- 
 serving, or anything else to which it might please my parents to 
 call me. Old as I was, I do not feel ashamed to say, that, on 
 this night, my feelings sobbed themselves to silence upon this 
 determination. It was evident that, as yet, although fancy 
 had dubbed me a man, fact still ranked me as a child. 
 
 But with the following dawn, Fischof, when I arose and 
 7 
 
146 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 dressed myself, all things had changed to my perception. What 
 It was, I know not. Certain is it that I had not dreamed, yet 
 my first waking reflections were widely different from those 
 under whose influence slumber had come upon me. 
 
 Cool thought treated my childish presumption, now, aj; its 
 right value. 
 
 Returning again to you, I begged your interference with my 
 parents, and through your intercession was it, with them, that 
 their consent was given to my boyish ignorance of music, being 
 placed under the tuition of the Chevalier. With what ardor 
 and perseverance I worked under his guidance, and how, some 
 time afterwards, an Opera was actually produced by me, with 
 more than the mere success generally awarded by public cour- 
 tesy to a first production, is known to you and most of my 
 countrymen who understand and relish music. What German 
 is there that does not do so ? 
 
 Sixteen years have passed over me since that period, and 
 although I again tell you how thankful I was and am for yonr 
 kindness, the thought has occasionally passed through my 
 mind whether it would not have been better for me to become 
 either a doctor or a lawyer. 
 
 Had my father's will made me the first, perchance my ima- 
 ginative faculty might have developed itself in some Universal 
 Medicament " good for all kinds of diseases, and very whole- 
 some to healthy persons," like Dr. Dulcamara 's in the " Elixir 
 d'Amore." By this time, I might have been a millionaire like 
 Professor Holloway, of London, or have emulated ,the glories 
 of Dr. Townsend's palatial mansion in our own Fifth Avenue. 
 
 Had he made me a lawyer, a single year of study would have 
 fitted me for practising at the Bar in my new country. The 
 money of my clients would, in the first place, have been paid 
 mc for commencing and not carrying on their suits ; while the 
 money of their opponents would have rewarded me for suffer- 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 147 
 
 ing them to go by default. Perchance, I might hare concert- 
 ized with political Lectures, and have ultimately obtained some 
 fat slice at the division of the spoils ; or, could I not even have 
 supplied families and hotel-keepers with opinions on the Maine, 
 — or rather on the New York Liquor-Law , pro or con, in 
 every style, at the shortest notice ; terms — cash. 
 
 But as a simple musician, after sixteen years of hard labor, 
 and as a Mauager after a musical war of seven years' duration, 
 my dear Fischof, where am I ? 
 
 The baton has been wielded by me, now as a maestro, 
 again as a Conductor, and afterwards as a Manager, in various 
 cities, from Agram near the Black Sea to Mexico almost on 
 the borders of the Pacific Ocean. Here, I have been almost 
 starving. There, I have been entertaining a host of guests in 
 a style that was well nigh princely. Occasionally, my request 
 has been made in vain for employment as a musical copyist. 
 At another time, employment has been given by me to some- 
 where about three hundred persons. Now, I have been forced 
 to borrow a few score of dollars from particular friends, and 
 then, compelled to lavish hundreds (or as it might truly be said, 
 thousands) upon professional enemies. As a reward for the 
 first necessity, my friends were invariably lost to him who dared 
 make use of their pockets •; and, as a return for the last, my com- 
 pulsory profusion has ever managed to retain my enemies. 
 Sometimes hissed by the public ; at others, I have been the ob- 
 ject of the most flattering ovations. But, my old and dear 
 friend, the object of my- younger ambition, the writing and the 
 production of Operas, has been neglected until the present. 
 
 You will naturally enough ask me why this should be ? 
 
 To this, only one answer can be made. Circumstances have 
 thrust me into my present path, and have not, as yet, allowed 
 me for one moment to diverge from it. As a necessity, almost, 
 was management forced upon me* 
 
148 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 This, you will tell me, was an admirable position for a young 
 composer, to bring out Ms own Operas. 
 
 But do you not know that a Manager is nowhere the abso- 
 lute ruler of his own artists. In America more especially, is 
 he their slave, while they are his tyrants. No rules and regu- 
 lations are enforced by the law, in this land of freedom, which 
 these sons and daughters gotten by caprice upon whim, are 
 forced to obey. It might possibly have been managed, but the 
 example given me, by my predecessor in the Astor Place Opera 
 House, frightened me. Mr. Fry had ruined himself by hia 
 predilection for his brother's Operas. Consequently, my rea- 
 soning was this. If a brother's Operas are so dangerous, how 
 much more must the Operas of a Manager himself be. There- 
 fore, not only my time and labor, together with my own money 
 and that of others, have been risked and staked in the esta- 
 blishment of Opera in America, but the real object of my 
 whole life has also been sacrificed to it. You inquire of me, 
 wherefore my Operas were not produced in other theatres than 
 those which I was managing ? Blushing with shame, a con- 
 fession, which cannot be avoided, rises to my tongue. Mine, 
 my respected friend, was the only operatic Company in the 
 United States, if the French Opera at New Orleans (only 
 some 2000 miles distant) be excepted ! In Germany or Italy, 
 not a town is there of twenty thousand inhabitants, which has 
 not its own Opera House and its own operatic Company. A 
 city which possesses 60 or 100,000 inhabitants, generally has 
 two or three well-sustained and well-supported musical theatres. 
 We in the United States (there are more than 25,000,000 of 
 us) have but two. Even with this small number, failures are 
 the general order of the day. 
 
 .The Grecian, Roman, Florentine and Venetian Republics 
 not only encouraged Art, but were in fact the hearth and 
 harbor of all Art and Genius. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 149 
 
 Yet, it would seem that our new and young Republic, which 
 in point of commerce, wealth, industry, and the genius of 
 invention, has in such a brief space of time surpassed and out- 
 flanked your old. Europe, is not willing to acknowledge the 
 wholesome and useful influence of Art over the education of 
 youth and in the culture of Manhood. 
 
 Beyond a doubt, a really creative genius in Poetry, Music, 
 Painting, or Sculpture, must starve in America, should he de- 
 cide on confining himself to that calling for which his Maker 
 has pre-eminently gifted him. Bryant, whom you of course 
 know by his Poems, edits a daily journal. Would it be 
 possible to say more than is said in this single sentence ? The 
 greatest poet in the New World deals in daily politics and the 
 price of stocks. 
 
 Yes ! my old friend, cities such as Boston, Philadelphia, 
 Cincinnati and Baltimore, with populations as large as those 
 of Vienna, Naples, Berlin and Milan, cannot or do not choose 
 to support a regular Opera. 
 
 Indeed, the only regular Italian Opera in the Northern half 
 of that part of the world in which I am now residing (admire, 
 my dear Fischof, the extent of that last phrase,) save our own 
 in New York, was located in the city of Havana and the island 
 of Cuba. 
 
 It was under the direction of Don Francisco Marty y 
 Torrens. 
 
 Sefior Marty, like Barbaja in Naples, or Dr. Veron in Paris, 
 belongs to the class of successful operatic Managers. The 
 reason of this 'is, that, like Yeron or Barbaja, Marty has by no 
 means made it his principal business. With either of the three, 
 it is only an accessory or secondary affair, kept up with a view 
 of palliating the principal one, for which service the cloaked 
 concern, in its turn, makes good the losses which may be in- 
 curred by the Opera. 
 
150 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Thus, as you well know, Barbaja has the privilege of all the 
 gambling-houses in the kingdom of Naples placed in his hands, 
 together with the management of the Opera. His position as 
 its impressario, necessarily brought him into connection with 
 every class, strangers and natives. Consequently, after having 
 animated his acquaintances with music and singing, and after 
 having diverted their eyes with the silk fleshings and short 
 muslin jupons of his corps de ballet, he fleeced them at his 
 gambling-houses, and soon became more wealthy than the king 
 of Naples himself. Report says, although it may be a matter 
 of question with me and most other Managers, whether report 
 ought always to be implicitly believed, that the said Barbaja 
 used to be extremely polite with those individuals who won at 
 his gambling tables, and regularly sent them home in his own 
 carriages. His politeness used to be accurately proportioned 
 to the amount which they bore away with them. Those who 
 lost, he did not even notice. They were allowed to find their 
 way to their dwellings upon their own legs. 
 
 Once, an acquaintance who had been winning, asked him 
 the reason of this. 
 
 Barbaja smiled. 
 
 " My system," said he, " is a very simple one. The lucky 
 gambler, loaded with money, may be robbed in returning home. 
 But I consider the money in his pockets as still mine. Barring 
 accidents, he will return and lose it to the last scudo. I have 
 to take care of him. The unlucky gambler, on the 'contrary, 
 having been already " cleaned out," cannot be robbed. His 
 passion and the desire to retrieve his losses, will bring him back 
 to try his fortune once more. There is no necessity for extra 
 care or politeness with him." 
 
 Barbaja again smiled pleasantly, as his acquaintance buttoned 
 up his pockets. 
 
 How it was, that the great gambling-house proprietor had 
 
OPEEA MANAGEK IN AMEEICA. 151 
 
 made such a mistake, I know not, but the gentleman never 
 again played at one of his tables. 
 
 As for Dr. Veron, it is generally known that he was the in- 
 ventor of the celebrated Pate Pectorale* What position could 
 be more admirably calculated, than his was, as Manager of the 
 French Opera in Paris, to advertise that Pate through the 
 whole of Europe ? 
 
 But, now, you will ask me about the business of the very 
 worthy Don Francisco Marty y Torrens. My personal know- 
 ledge of him is very small. If I state to you what is said 
 about him, remember that I am very far from vouching for its 
 scrupulous exactitude. It is said, then, that in his younger 
 days, the Havanese impressario was the mate of a most for- 
 midable Pirate who infested the Mexican Gulf and the seas 
 more immediately adjacent to it. The Spanish government 
 offered a large recompense for the capture of this pirate. 
 Immediately, the youthful Prancisco felt it his duty to serve 
 his government. The rover fell into a trap, which was very 
 neatly laid for him, and was taken. He was, of course, 
 "garoted,'' this punishment being a peculiarly agreeable and 
 expeditious way of throttling a prisoner in public, which is in 
 vogue in Cuba. 
 
 As his recompense, the amiable Prancisco received the pri- 
 vilege of all the fish-markets in the island. 
 
 Nobody in all Cuba had the right of selling a single fish, 
 without paying certain dues to Don Prancisco Marty y 
 Torrens. 
 
 In addition to this, he had money. How much or where 
 acquired, no one knows. This loose cash he invested in build- 
 in" 1 or chartering some hundreds of fishing-boats. He was there- 
 fore enabled, after a short time, to supply his own markets. 
 
 * A lozenge adapted to dispel hoarseness, and used alike on the stage 
 and in the pulpit. 
 
152 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 This business, in which he could encounter no opposition, soon 
 afterwards took under his management such colossal proportions, 
 that, some years since, its annual profits were' estimated at 
 10,000 ounces of gold, or something equivalent to 800,000 
 francs^ Still retaining a certain predilection for everything 
 approximating to his old profession (you note, I should pre- 
 sume, the delicate name with which it is characterized), he 
 fitted out several large vessels to carry on the slave trade. 
 His baits were now fire-arms, doubloons and kegs of brandy. 
 His hooked fish were negroes from the coast of Africa, and 
 Indians from Yucatan. These, the bribed authorities of the 
 island permitted to be landed and sold there. This speculation 
 increased Marty's fortune, and it soon reached an almost fabulous 
 extent. He now dabbled in government securities, and was 
 several times-enabled to help the government of Spain out of 
 its momentary embarrassments. For this devotion, an equi- 
 valent had to be received, and it was offered him in the shape 
 of knighthood and " letters of nobility" by the Spanish crown. 
 
 Thus he became not only powerful in Havana, but great 
 also in Madrid, in which city he keeps his regular agents. 
 
 It has indeed been told me, that the Captain-general Concha 
 had at one time determined upon depriving Marty of the privi- 
 lege of exclusively dealing in fish. He had therefore obtained 
 the revocation of the grant from the Spanish Ministry. The 
 worthy Seiior Francisco had, however, been informed of the 
 proceedings with this view, by his agents, and had acted in 
 accordance with the intelligence. When summoned by General 
 Concha to the palace, and notified by him that his privilege had 
 ceased, by command of the Queen, he very coolly asked the 
 Captain-general the date of this order. The document was 
 handed to him. Marty looked at it and drew another from his 
 pocket, which was dated exactly one day later. 
 
 It revoked the former one and reinstated Don Francisco 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 153 
 
 Marty y Torrens in all his former rights and privileges. The 
 General was for the moment thunderstruck, as Marty said to 
 him — ■ 
 
 " Your Excellency not appearing to have received the com- 
 munication, believe me, I shall feel most happy in providing 
 you with this copy of it." 
 
 But, in spite of his wealth, his power and his influence, 
 Marty was not liked. The proud Castilian noblesse of the 
 island absolutely refused to tolerate the slave-dealer and fish- 
 seller in their society. He therefore determined upon forcing 
 them to swallow the fish and digest the negro. To do {this, 
 he built a splendid Opera House, engaged first-rate Opera 
 troupes, and became his own Manager. 
 
 At first, lovers of song as all Spaniards are, they refused to 
 patronize him. 
 
 Enraged at this, Don Francisco committed an act, the ego- 
 tism of which was so intense, that it almost am&mts to genius. 
 
 He closed the doors of the Ta'con theatre upon the public 
 but retained the company. 
 
 The performances were continued for himself. 
 
 There he sate, but for a few friends, in solitary grandeur, 
 listening to and enjoying the music, almost alone. Now he 
 would applaud this, or hiss that artist — here, he would give 
 a rapturous encore — there, he would throw a magnificent 
 bracelet upon the stage, to a pretty prima donna — he himself, 
 representing in his own person alike, the public, the manage- 
 ment, the critics and the dead-heads. It strikes me, my good 
 old friend, that the grand cynicism of this conduct has never 
 been equalled. For this alone, do I confess, that I almost 
 venerate the Senor Francisco Marty y Torrens. 
 
 However, the artists made acquaintances, and these acquaint- 
 ances wished to hear them in Opera. Marty heard it, and, 
 doubtless, chuckled inwardly. Externally, he was inexorable. 
 
 7* 
 
154 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 This strange, and, as it seemed to the majority of the public 
 in Havana, uuaccountable behavior, raised their curiosity to 
 the highest pitch. After interposing many, and, as it ap- 
 peared, insurmountable difficulties, Marty, perhaps wearied out 
 of his solitary Sybaritism, consented to treat with the aristo- 
 cracy of the Cuban capital. Provided a number of them would 
 buy up the boxes of his house for a certain series of years, and 
 provided they would make up a purse each season, for the 
 management, he was willing to throw open the doors of the 
 Tacon, and furnish first-class Operatic performances. As the 
 Spanish Sefioritas are exceedingly fond of music, and even 
 more partial to display, the Spanish Senores were obliged, by 
 the love of melody and the terror of their better halves, to 
 comply with these terms. Don Francisco had won his first 
 battle with the Havanese aristocracy. 
 
 Thanks, therefore, to the subscription and the compulsory 
 subvention, which sometimes amounted to $30,000, Italian 
 Opera flourished for a season in Havana. 
 
 In order to show you, my good Professor, how much Marty 
 himself understood of those musical matters on which, for a 
 time, he had chosen to sit as the sole judge, you will allow me 
 to retail to you an anecdote, which has been given me as per- 
 fectly true. 
 
 Sitting once, during an operatic performance, in the first 
 row of seats, near the Orchestra, he remarked a horn-player 
 looking at his music without playing. For a time, the pro- 
 foundly scientific Manager endured this, but, when some twenty 
 bars had passed, without bringing any signs of life into the in- 
 strument, he at last lost his patience, and turned to the unlucky 
 horn-player — 
 
 " Why the deuce don't you play, sir ?" he exclaimed. 
 
 " Senor — " queried the instrumentalist. 
 
 " Why don't you play ?" 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 155 
 
 Senor, I am counting my bars, now." 
 
 " Are you, you lazy scoundrel ? Counting your bars, in- 
 deed ! Why did you not count them before this ?" 
 
 " I am waiting before I begin, Senor 1" said the unlucky 
 musician, in a marked tremolo. 
 
 " Begin at once 1" quoth Itfarty. 
 
 " Senor — V began the man imploringly. 
 
 " Begin !" repeated the impressario, " or, when pay-day 
 comes, I shall count my dollars and wait before I pay 
 yon." 
 
 The threat was sufficient. The horn was raised to the 
 musician's mouth, but no sooner was the first note blown, than 
 the Conductor turned on the instrumentalist with a savage 
 look. The brazen tube dropped from his mouth, and then only 
 was Marty aware of the error which he had made. As the 
 audience noted what had passed with the usual quickness of 
 Southern musical intuition, they applauded the unlucky horn. 
 Daggers were looked at Marty by the incensed Conductor, 
 who ran round to the front of the house at the close of the 
 act. 
 
 What he was about to say to Don Francisco Marty y 
 Torrens, you and I, my dear Fischof, shall never know, for the 
 Manager had departed that night from the theatre, earlier 
 than usual, and, on the following morning, his season's salary 
 dictated to him a wise forbearance. 
 
 As, however, it would have been difficult to procure avail- 
 able singers from Italy, and well nigh impossible to lure artists 
 of decided merit to Havana for the few winter months, the 
 Senor Marty was obliged to engage his company for a much 
 longer period ; and, during the intervals that they could not 
 remain in Cuba, in consequence of the great heat and their 
 fears of the yellow fever, for two years he used to send them 
 to New York. Here, they played in Castle Garden, once a 
 
156 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 fort, afterwards an Opera house, and, now, the deptt for emi- 
 grants from Europe. While his artists were no better than 
 those we had in New York, this concurrence was of no mo- 
 ment to the interests of the New York management. In 
 the summer of 1850, however, Marty sent to this city the 
 greatest troupe which had ever been heard in America. In- 
 deed, in point of the integral talent, number and excellence of 
 the artists composing it, it must be admitted that it has sel- 
 dom been excelled in any part of the Old World. 
 
 This party consisted of three prime donne. These were 
 the Signore Steffanone, Bosio and Tedesco. Its only contralto 
 was the Signora Vietti. There were three tenors, Salvi, Ket- 
 tini and Lorini. Badiali and Corradi Setti were the two bary- 
 tones, while the two bassi were Marini and Coletti. At the 
 head of this extraordinary company was the. great contra-bassist 
 (I call him so, because he is best known by his wonderful skill 
 on that instrument) Bottesini, assisted by Arditi. It would 
 be useless, my old friend, to attempt to indicate to you the 
 excellence of this Company. You have long since known their 
 names, or been aware of their standing as artists, in the world 
 of Music. The greater portion of them enjoy a wide and well- 
 deserved European reputation, and their re-union, anywhere, 
 would form an almost incomparable Operatic troupe. 
 
 Bosio and Tedesco have since taken London, and Paris, and 
 St. Petersburgh by storm. Steffanone has recently returned to 
 Europe, and, in a short time, we shall, in all probability, hear 
 of her triumphs. Bettini has since that period been every- 
 where acknowledged in Italy, as its first tenor. Salvi, Marini, 
 and Badiali had established European reputations as artists of 
 the very first class, and these, too, long before their arrival in 
 America. Salvi, more especially, although inferior in voice to 
 Mario, equalled him in finish of style and method, while, as a 
 mere actor, he most undoubtedly at that time much surpassed 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 157 
 
 him : and Marini was known in London as the greatest 
 Italian basso who had ever sung there, with the solitary excep- 
 tion of Lablache. 
 
 This Company not only created a profound sensation in 
 New York, but played at something less than half the usual 
 price. 
 
 The admission to Castle Garden, during their performances, 
 was no more than fifty cents. 
 
 In fact,' it was purely a matter of the most perfect indiffer- 
 ence to Marty, whether they made him money, or whether 
 they did not make him money, during their summer season. 
 Their salaries were provided for out of the receipts of their 
 winter performances in Havana, and their brief visit to a more 
 northern clime had no other object than that of increasing 
 their reputation, in order that such increase might react upon 
 Cuban society ; as well as the one of filling out the summer 
 without permitting them to be idle, or incurring the risk of 
 acclimating such valuable personal property as soprani and 
 tenori. Yellow fever is a very daugerous acquaintance, and 
 the second time it nods to you, if you are unfortunate enough 
 to incur the risk of a relapse, in nine cases out of ten, you are, 
 my good old friend, little better, to use an American expres- 
 sion, than " a gone coon.'' 
 
 At once, upon hearing them, I made up my mind, if it were 
 by any means possible, to secure them for this city. 
 
 My determination to do so was based upon two important 
 reasons. 
 
 First, it was evident enough to any one who was at all con- 
 versant with operatic matters in Europe, that neither New 
 York nor Havana would ever be able to bring so admirable a 
 company again together. While, secondly, I saw clearly 
 enough that such a company as this was, if left under the 
 management of Marty, would at their present prices become a 
 
158 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 most dangerous and effective opposition to the New York 
 management. 
 
 Therefore, I decided upon entering into immediate commu- 
 nication with the several artists composing the troupe. 
 
 This I accordingly did, and succeeded in securing all of them, 
 with the single exception of Tedeeco, for the United States, 
 after the expiration of their present engagement with Marty. 
 
 With the acquisition of, this company, I began firmly to 
 believe that Italian Opera would be perpetually domiciled in 
 my new country. "Man," however, "proposes, while Fate 
 disposes." Just as difficult, as it would have been to find 
 again, such a number of admirable artists collected under one 
 management, would it have been to bring together such a ca- 
 pricious, conceited, egotistical, rapacious, intriguing, cheating, 
 troublesome, mischievous and malicious set of vocalists. The 
 perfect liberty which they enjoyed in New York, without the 
 strict police regulations of either Italy or Havana, soon de- 
 generated into impudence, insolence, and the most audacious 
 contempt both for the public who came to listen to, and the 
 management which paid them. But it would take up far too 
 much time and space, my dear Professor, were my pen to at- 
 tempt detailing to you all their quarrels, jealousies and intrigues 
 amongst themselves, or their tricks, plots and conspiracies 
 against their Manager. Not only had he (you must here un- 
 derstand myself) to contend with the unavoidable difficulties 
 of his position, but he had also to suffer the consequences re- 
 sulting from their private quarrels. 
 
 If one prima donna happened to be jealous of the applause 
 which had been given another, she refused to sing, exactly 
 when she was most wanted, in order to punish the Manager 
 for the success which had attended her rival. 
 
 Should a pretty ballet-girl decline listening to the delicate 
 propositions made her by the primo tenore, this last-named 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 159 
 
 artist would become love-sick, and declare himself too indis- 
 posed to appear upon the stage. 
 
 Did the Opera in which the barytone had a prominent part 
 create a furore, for that simple reason would the basso ex- 
 pressly contrive to kill the next work which the management 
 placed upon the stage, that he might make me unmistakably 
 appreciate his own importance. 
 
 In addition to this generic feature, each one of them had his 
 particular whims and caprices. 
 
 ■ One exception must, however, be made, and this is in favor of 
 the Signora Steffanone. She was very generally sufficiently 
 conscientious. This was perhaps more especially the case, 
 while there was another prima donna in the company capable 
 of treading in her buskins. She had nevertheless one decid- 
 edly physical drawback to her undoubted value, being subject 
 to fits and convulsions, which materially prejudiced the manage- 
 ment. These, I had remarked, never seized her while upon the 
 stage. They generally chanced anterior to her advertised ap- 
 pearance before the public. Inquiring privately about these 
 attacks, from her physician, I ascertained that they ordinarily 
 returned at stated intervals, and could almost- be predicted 
 with a mathematical certainty. These days were therefore 
 marked beforehand, in my Almanac, with a black line. Per- 
 formances were set apart for them, in which Steffanone would 
 have no necessity for appearing. In this manner and by these 
 means, we managed to get along very well, and this continued 
 for a long period. At length, Bosio quitted the company, 
 and when she did so, it seemed to me that these convulsive 
 attacks became exceedingly irregular. In consulting my 
 Calendar, it appeared to me that they were at the very least 
 twice as frequent as they had before been. Indeed, during the 
 late operatic season, when the Chevalier Henry Wikoff was 
 Acting Manager for the committee who conducted the Acade- 
 
ISO EEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 my, their frequency had increased to a truly alarming extent. 
 The clever Chevalier, who by his marvellous diplomatic skill 
 had succeeded in engaging her at several hundred dollars 
 larger salary than she had ever been paid by me, could neither 
 find out the reason of nor prevent these repeated convulsions. 
 Whispers indeed were in circulation respecting them, which it 
 may be concluded never reached him. Otherwise, his diplo- 
 macy would certainly have been called upon to prevent their 
 too frequent and continuous recurrence. 
 
 The Signora Angelina Bosio was a very talented and in- 
 dustrious lady, with only one great misfortune. She had a — ■ 
 husband. 
 
 No possible plague is there which can be greater for a luck- 
 less Manager than those which daily befall him, save the fact 
 of his •prima donna, or one of his two or three, being a married 
 woman. 
 
 Sometimes, we find the husband of the vocalist is a green 
 fish, recently caught in the army or navy, by the French paste 
 and footlight glare upon the shrewd and experienced cantatrice. 
 She has played her cards so ably, as to induce the hapless lover 
 to offer marriage. These terms are the only ones upon which 
 his suit for her heart can possibly be received. Here, it is a 
 lucky and stalwart hotel-waiter, that enjoys the. honor of being 
 promoted by marriage to the bed of the popular favorite. Nor 
 will you think, my amiable Fischof, that I am romancing in 
 hinting at this possibility, for you, at least, can recall to your 
 memory the case of one celebrated prima donna, whose Fidelio 
 is renowned wherever music is known, that has picked up 
 her husband in the aforesaid condition of life. Now and 
 then, a sighing oboe or a sentimental violin, inspired by love 
 or smitten with a desire not to pay out of his own pocket for 
 his brandy- punches, has leapt over the foot-lights and the 
 prompter's green umbrella into the arms of the enamored 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. ' 161 
 
 vocalist. Perhaps, a desperate maestro di canto may have ac- 
 cepted, as the last resort against suicide or starvation, the 
 situation of husband to the inspired artist. Nay ! I have even 
 heard of one case, in which the valet de ckambre of the lady's 
 titled lover, who had filled the honorable post of Mercury to 
 his master's liaison, was subsequently of necessity promoted to 
 the nominal position of a husband, when a marriage de con- 
 venance became necessary to save her reputation, and to offer 
 the public a formula to account for the figure which she was 
 making in the world. 
 
 Be this as it may, the first object in the life of a prima don- 
 na's husband is to impress his wife with a vivid sense of his 
 own importance to her. 
 
 Without him, she would be a comparatively lost reputation. 
 
 He detects and brings to light numberless hidden trea- 
 sures ( !) in his wife's school of vocalization, which have until 
 now escaped the eyes both of the Managers and the public. 
 
 It is very possible that he may not have the slightest idea 
 of what singing really should be. Yet to him, only, is it that 
 she is indebted for any progress in her Art. When she is re- 
 hearsing with her maestro, he is occupied in industriously 
 beating time. Assiduously does he turn over the leaves of the 
 score of her part — most carefully does he wipe the dust from 
 the notes of the piano — with what forethought does he either 
 screw up or screw down the music-stool to suit her height, 
 whether she be tall or short. Carrying the inevitable poodle 
 in the right hand, and her clogs in the left, he bears with him 
 the shawl over one arm and a roll of music squeezed under the 
 other. No sooner is the rehearsal over, than he runs for the 
 carriage. In nine cases out of ten, after carefully closing the 
 door upon his spouse and her cidsleo, he trots home rapidly, 
 to see that the soup is hot and the champagne iced, and to 
 look after the other ninety-nine affairs of the menage. Ever on 
 
162 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 the watch to hermetically close the doors and windows, he 
 never foregoes an opportunity of gently insinuating that the 
 maestro owes far more to the musical knowledge of his wife 
 than she owes to him, and slightly hints that both are under 
 immeasurable obligations to himself for his untiring care of 
 both their interests. 
 
 In addition to this, he quarrels with the Manager on the 
 occasion of his wife's signing the contract. This is indeed an 
 inevitable necessity for him. He makes a thousand new and 
 unheard-of demands upon the exchequer of the management, 
 amongst which are huge travelling expenses, benefits, extra- 
 payments and costs for himself, servants, dogs, parrots, as well 
 as the cavaliere servenle. 
 
 To impress his wife with an adequate idea of his own impor- 
 tance, after the engagement has been signed he picks up a 
 trifling difference with the Manager, which he has the skill to 
 foster daily into the proportions of a grave quarrel. At last, 
 this fearful affair is settled, and then does it appear that the 
 exemplary husband has saved his most innocent wife from a 
 horrible conspiracy which had been expressly formed for her 
 ruin. Of this conspiracy, it would of course be utterly needless 
 to add, that the miserable Manager had most indubitably been 
 both part and parcel. While an infinitely more singular de- 
 duction may be drawn from the reports of everybody concern- 
 ed in or with it. He was decidedly fool enough to be so, at 
 the complete sacrifice of his own interests. 
 
 Such, be it observed, were the claims for her love and gra- 
 titude, which the Signor Panayotis di Xindavelonis possessed 
 upon his spouse, the Signora Bosio. 
 
 Tedesco was the only one of the artists who formed the 
 company, that quitted it instead of remaining with me. 
 
 Now, when she had arrived in this country from Havana, 
 my much respected Professsor, the Signora Tedesco was pos- 
 
OPEBA MANAGEK IN AMERICA. 163 
 
 sessed of no husband. She, however, enjoyed the care and 
 affection of a near relative who was immeasurably worse than 
 anything I have seen in the shape of a spouse of any cantatrice. 
 This .relative was a father. This father, I am compelled by 
 my conscience to say, I have not the slightest doubt, descended 
 in a direct and straightforward line from Shylock of Venice. 
 
 When he came to the theatre upon pay-day, for the purpose 
 of receiving his daughter's salary, he was in the admirable and 
 thoroughly delicate habit of subjecting each separate piece of 
 gold to a peculiarly Jewish examination touching their Chris- 
 tian perfection. In a word, he was in the habit of carrying 
 a small pair of scales in his breeches-pocket, with which he veri- 
 fied their respective weight. 
 
 His daughter, Fortunata, (so was she miscalled, for she was 
 unfortunate enough in being compelled to own her descent from 
 such a sire) bore, in her turn, a singular resemblance to the 
 charming daughter of Shylock, Shakspeare's Jessica. As Jes- 
 sica had done in the days upon which the great play-wright 
 drew for plot and character, she fell in love with a Christian 
 who had more or less of the white man in his blood, and like 
 Desdemona, she married him in spite of all opposition, saying in 
 all probability : — 
 
 " I saw - - - - 's visage in his mind, 
 " And to his honors and his valiant parts 
 " Did I my soul and fortune consecrate." 
 
 As for the principal primo tenore, this was the Signor Salvi. 
 He believed himself in the Operatic world, a fixed star of the 
 first magnitude^ around whose twinkling lustre (but let me 
 beg his pardon for that unlucky adjective : it sh.ould have been 
 a broader and a larger one) all of the other and lesser planets 
 had slowly and respectfully to revolve. He supposed himself 
 to be the brilliant Sun from whom the nobodies who were his 
 satellites had to obtain the whole of their light and warmth. 
 
164 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 If, perchance, at times he descended from the height of self- 
 appreciation upon which he dwelt, and for a moment admitted 
 himself to be an ordinary mortal like you or myself, my dear 
 Fischof, it was only that he might indulge in playing the r6le 
 of a despotic sovereign. Then, I felt that he believed him- 
 self to be the Louis Quatorze of the lyric drama, and, at times, 
 was under the impression that I should hear him exclaim, 
 " £' Opera, cW moi." 
 
 As for the luckless Manager, Signor Salvi literally looked 
 upon him in the light of. his own dignity, as his bondsman. 
 Providence had, with a kindly and liberal hand, consigned him 
 to the primo terwre, to be plucked, squeezed and sucked out 
 like a ripe and golden orange. When the juice had satisfied 
 him, he was to be thrown away and kicked into the street like 
 the rind of that luscious fruit. The public, however, was a 
 necessary evil. He regarded them somewhat as a band of 
 savages, whom he, however, like a second Orpheus, could appease 
 with the wondrous melody of his voice. 
 
 Like every other despot by the grace of God, he was more 
 alive to flattery than he was sensible of his duties. Unlike any 
 other idol, he .keenly enjoyed the worshipping of his private 
 priests and the adoration of his private priestesses. 
 
 He recompensed their hymns in his favor, by forcing his 
 Manager (?) to engage them. They must be provided for, 
 whether they were wanted or not, and, indeed, whether they 
 were good for anything or not. 
 
 A flattery to Signor Salvi was certain to cost the Manager 
 a dozen season-tickets. The smallest service which had been 
 rendered to this gentleman, was paid for, not out of his own 
 purse, but by a place in the Orchestra or Chorus, or some 
 office which was in the gift of the Manager. If, however, it 
 should chance that some sacrifice had been made to the will 
 or interest of the autocrat of the Opera, then he lanced an 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 165 
 
 imperative TJkase at his aforesaid slave. He was ordered to 
 engage the said person for a period of six, nine or twelve 
 months, as the case might be, or the whim might seize his ruler, 
 at so many hundred dollars, payable in advance. Such a do- 
 cument is a singular specimen of Salvi's imperative style of com- 
 manding obedience ; the menace of the penalty incurred, in 
 the event of a non-compliance with his orders, being invariably 
 contained in it. One specimen of the many in my possession 
 I give you, my amiable friend, that you may see I am not 
 exaggerating. Note how short and energetic, in fact how 
 Napoleonic, Signor Salvi's style of issuing his orders was. 
 
 " Caro Max," * 
 
 Fa ditvito per iscriturare la Sidonia, altrimenti io non canto 
 " ne ' Don Giovanni ', ne ' Norma), ne altri. 
 
 " A 250 $ il mese, e che la scrittura porti 350 $. Amen, e 
 "cod sia. 
 
 "19. 4. 53. Iltuo Salvi." 
 
 t 
 
 Look at the date, my venerated Professor I Examine the 
 style. " Amen ! e cosi sia." Does it not very strongly remind 
 you of the style of the great Corsican ? 
 
 In fact, Pischof, man is reduplicated in every condition. The 
 Borgias poisoned and committed adultery upon a large scale. 
 How many smaller Borgias have been made most unfairly away 
 with upon the scaffold ! Nero got rid of his mother, and how 
 
 * This letter, translated, verbally reads thus : 
 
 " My dear Max, 
 
 " Do everything to engage the Sidonia, otherwise, I shall neither sing 
 " in the ' Don Giovanni,' in ' Norma,' or in other Operas. 
 
 " At 250 $ per month, but let the writing bear 350 $. Amen, and so 
 "be it. 
 
 " 19. 4. 53. Yours, Salvi." 
 
166 EETELATIONS OF AN 
 
 many mother-slayers have since that period been rope-throttled 
 for a similar crime ! Therefore is it that I feel I have the right 
 to parallel Signor Salvi's imperative despatches to me, with the 
 equally imperative proclamations and despatches of a much 
 greater man. 
 
 On other occasions, he would order that the Zanini (husband 
 and wife) the Sighorina Ceriani, or the stage-tailor Locatelli 
 and his spouse, (I might not be in need of a stage-tailor and 
 tailoress) should be engaged. Occasionally, such a command 
 for a round half-dozen of engagements, would come in at once. 
 If not immediately complied with, the refusal, it was intimated, 
 would cause him a bilious attack (!) which he positively knew 
 beforehand (!!) would last exactly thirteen days. 
 
 This thirteen days' sickness was the highest penalty of lese- 
 majeste in what it will scarcely be a jest to call the Code Sal- 
 vinien. 
 
 You, my good old friend, ask me " wherefore ?" 
 
 Simply was it, that the great tenore never accepted an en- 
 gagement from any Manager, unless, in the event of sickness, 
 fourteen days of grace were given him. If therefore an un- 
 fortunately refractory Manager were condemned to suffer the 
 penalty for high treason to his delicately voiced monarch, it 
 was managed in this fashion. The domestic of Signor Salvi 
 presented himself at the bureau of the management, with a 
 medical certificate that the vocalist had an attack of bronchi- 
 tis, yellow fever, or cholera morbus. Consequently, for 
 thirteen days his name could not appear on the bills. On the 
 fourteenth day, generally the morning of what Operatic Ma- 
 nagers call an off-night, the tenore would announce his readiness 
 to sing again, if required. On the fifteenth, he would make 
 his appearance looking uncommonly well after thirteen days 
 of the cholera, or singularly rosy after the same period of 
 yellow fever, to draw his fortnights salary ; having only been 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 167 
 
 too ill to sing for thirteen days of it. On the day following, 
 he would have a relapse, and continue in this deplorable con- 
 dition for another period of thirteen days, unless in the mean- 
 time the Manager should beeome a suppliant for peace, and 
 submit himself humbly to each and every condition imposed 
 upon him by the triumphant artist as a punishment for his re- 
 bellion against legitimate authority. 
 
 The other tenore, Signor 'Bettini, was a young man with a 
 robust and vigorous voice, and a manly figure. He had but 
 one fault. This, however, was a serious one. 
 
 He had a peculiar relish for amusing himself with select 
 parties of those whom he considered his friends at "petits 
 sawpees a la Regence." Here, he would drown his brains in a 
 Champagne-flask and afterwards lose his money at the gambling- 
 table during whole nights. The natural consequence of this 
 would be, that he was unable to sing upon the following 
 evening. 
 
 These moral if not actual breaches of his engagement became 
 somewhat too frequent. Therefore, I concluded upon trying a 
 remedy with this otherwise amiable gentleman. 
 
 Two watchmen were accordingly hired by me to keep him 
 in constant surveillance. They were bidden to remain in sight 
 of his residence ; to let me know every person who entered his 
 rooms, with the time of his arrival and departure ; to follow 
 Bettini whenever he went otffc, whether in the day or night-time, 
 and to keep notes of the houses he might go to, his occupation 
 there if they could discover it, the length of time he remained, 
 the hour at which he returned, &c, &c, &c. It must be con- 
 fessed that my two spies did their work admirably. Every 
 morning I received from them, in my office, the most minute 
 and authentic account of Signor Bettini's doings. I was as 
 well posted up about them, as if I had never wandered an inch 
 from his elbow. The secret police of Tienna or of Paris have 
 
168 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 never been better served. Nay, I feel convinced that my two 
 purely impromptu officials might have risen to high distinction 
 in the government-employment of this branch of police-duty, 
 either in France or in Austria. 
 
 As I had expected, after a few days had elapsed, my dear 
 Fischof, a letter was brought to me, about noon, from Bettini. 
 
 It profoundly regretted that a violent fever would prevent 
 him from singing in the evening. He notified me in time, that 
 I might change the bill or postpone the performance. 
 
 Neither of these was done ; but, in answer to his note, he 
 received from me an elaborate digest of all his proceedings for 
 the last twenty-fcur hours. It stated, with admirable accuracy, 
 the number of Champagne bottles which he had emptied at 
 dinner and supper, on the preceding day, indicating also the 
 round sum which he had flung away at the faro table on the 
 evening succeeding, the hour at which he had returned home, 
 together with sundry other interesting particulars, which it 
 would be scarcely decorous to mention. This paper I requested 
 him to read and to change any accidental misrepresentation 
 which might occur in it, as it was my intention to have it 
 printed and distributed amongst the public on that evening, 
 who would, by this means, be fully possessed with the reasons 
 for his " fever" and his consequent non-appearance. 
 
 In what manner the Signor Bettini received this missive has 
 never been satisfactorily revealed to me. 
 
 Afterwards, he assured me that it was a capital joke. 
 
 My spies were unable to penetrate into his sitting-room ; 
 consequently, I am unable, my dear Professor, positively to as- 
 severate that he did not do so, although it may appear to me 
 rather dubious. 
 
 Certain is it, that he was visible upon the stage that same 
 evening. Never, probably, in his whole life, had he sung better 
 than he did upon this occasion. The poignee du main which 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 169 
 
 I received from him, was as gratefully affectionate, as that 
 which an amiable young Parisian might, at the present mo- 
 ment, bestow upon a rival in an affair of the heart who was 
 about proceeding to the Crimea. The means of knowing 
 whether it were as genuine, have never been vouchsafed to me. 
 However, the little lesson with which my espionage had en- 
 abled me to accommodate him, had a very salutary effect upon 
 his subsequent career ; and his talents have subsequently 
 placed him in the acknowledged situation of the favorite 
 tenore in Italy and Austria. 
 
 Badiali was an exception to the rest of this Company in 
 many respects. As an artist he was singularly conscientious, 
 and rarely, if ever, failed in doing his duty to the public. 
 He, necessarily, speedily became a favorite. However, his 
 extraordinary meanness and avarice, as well as a certain amount 
 of trifling jealousy, have precluded him from winning the gener- 
 al regard of his professional brethren. 
 
 Undoubtedly, next to Lablache, Signor Marini must be 
 considered the greatest Italian basso at present living. In the 
 conception of some of his parts, such, for example, as Sylva, 
 the Duke in "Lucretia Borgia," and Marino Falie.ro, he 
 occasionally displayed histrionic talents worthy of a Talma or 
 a Kean. His voice was nevertheless, occasionally, unreliable ; 
 while he was frequently ill-humored, as capricious in his af- 
 fections as the most capricious of the fairer sex, strangely 
 peevish and splenetic, and more in the habit of listening to, and 
 following the advice of, a worthless set of Italian " suckers," 
 (the word, my old friend, is a native one in my adopted coun- 
 try, and is eminently expressive, signifying humanity when it 
 approximates to the parasitical feeders upon other and sturdier 
 trees, or to the jelly-like and glutinous polypi,) than that of his 
 friends, and, let me add it, whether you smile at the association 
 or not, his Manager. 
 
 8 
 
170 
 
 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 As for the secondary parts, they were, of course, filled 
 by an inferior set of artists in every respect, but one. They 
 had, were it possible, an even greater love for intrigue and 
 trickery. 
 
 Yet, in spite of every fault which has been scored against 
 them, and those which my sufferings in their management 
 might tempt me, even yet, to add to these — in spite of their 
 restless duplicity, their ungracious treatment of myself, and the 
 want of wisdom shown in the conduct of their relations with 
 the public, I am obliged to say, and this without the slightest 
 possibility of gaining any advantage by flattering their self- 
 love, for they have all quitted the United States save Coletti, 
 who has married, and is, I believe, settled in New York, that 
 this Company was, in every respect, the very best which has 
 ever been got together upon this side of the Atlantic. Such 
 " stars" may, subsequently to their appearance, have flashed 
 upon us, as Sontag, Grisi and Mario, or Alboni. But, it 
 must be remembered, that these, in every case, rose upon the 
 public as merely isolated luminaries. They stood completely 
 alone. The remainder of their separate troupes cannot for a 
 single moment be weighed in the balance with the Havanese 
 Company. This presented, in all its details, the nearest ap- 
 proach to perfection which has ever visited this hemisphere. 
 You will necessarily understand, my dear Fischof, that I am 
 simply referring to their qualification as artists. 
 
 This troupe, consisting, as it did, not only of the members 
 who had actually sung in it, in Havana, but also of many of 
 my previous Company, (Mesdames Steffanone, Bosio, Vietti, 
 and Costini, with Mesdemoiselles Bertucca and Truffi, and the 
 Signori Salvi, Bettini, Lorini, Marini, Badiali, Coletti, Bene- 
 ventano, with others, forming it,) I arranged should give 
 Operas in Castle Garden, at the low price of fifty cents for 
 admission. 
 
OPERA MANAGES IN AMEKICA. 171 
 
 To this determination I was induced by several rea- 
 sons. 
 
 In the first place, the major strength of my vocalists had 
 already performed there at that price. Next, I firmly believed 
 that the low price of admission and the great excellence of the 
 artists themselves, would tend to popularize Opera. Should it 
 do so, it would not only root Music into the nation, my dar- 
 ling desire, but would, from the capacity of Castle Garden, 
 which could hold more than 5 ,000 persons comfortably seated, 
 render it probable that I might be paid for the risk attendant 
 upon it. Dreaming a golden dream, I fancied that with such 
 a Company as this actually was, with prices no higher than 
 the regular theatrical ones, and a large house, the taste for 
 Italian Opera might be established, not amongst the " Upper 
 Ten," but in the public heart of New York. 
 
 My good and old friend, I had made one great mistake. I 
 am able to own it without shame, because many much greater 
 and more talented men than myself have made a similar 
 error. 
 
 This mistake was made in supposing that he who sows, in- 
 variably reaps the harvest. Certainly, I scattered the seed 
 then, but it will remain for another hand than mine, or another 
 time than mine own, to gather in the crop. A love for music 
 is a thing that cannot bear fruit the same month in which its 
 seeds have been scattered in the ground. Suffice it, that very 
 frequently did we play before an audience varying in number 
 from 100 to 150 persons, scarcely enough to pay the mere 
 printing bills of the evening. When the first three months 
 had ended, the result of my golden dream, my respected and 
 respectable Fischof, was a clear and unmistakable deficit of 
 $22,000. The best operatic Company ever collected in the 
 United States had failed, at the lowest prices ever asked for 
 admission to such a class of entertainment as that provided for 
 
172 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 the public, in drawing sufficient money to pay their own sala- 
 ries. Believe me that, had I then written to you, my signa- 
 ture would have been, 
 
 Your very miserable, &c, &c, 
 
 Max Maretzek. 
 
FIFTH LETTEE. 
 
 TO M. W. BALFE, LONDON. 
 
 Musical Agents in New York — Catherine Hayes — Lola Montez — Nib- 
 lp's Garden, as an Opera House, and William Niblo, as a Manager — 
 Opposition — " Robert le Diable " — Meyerbeer's Operas — Origin of 
 Opera — Rossini — Donetti's Troupe of Learned Dogs and Monkeys. 
 
OPEEA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 175 
 
 LETTER V. 
 
 TO M. W. BALFE, ITALY. 
 
 New York, September 5, 1855. 
 Dear Friend : — ■ 
 
 It is now some year and a half since the period at which 
 we last saw each other. This was, if you will take the 
 trouble of recalling it to your memory, at Milan, and in the 
 Hotel de h, Belle Venise. A lapse of very nearly five years 
 had faded, day by day, over our heads, since the time at 
 which we had previously met. You were then rounder and 
 larger in every way. For myself, I was beginning to feel 
 the slight premonitory symptoms of an incipient double-chin. 
 Yet I was certainly as young as ever, while you had not lost 
 one jot of that springiness of temperament with which you 
 had, so abundantly, been blessed. Spiritually, at all events, 
 do I firmly believe that we were as, if not more, youthful 
 than we had formerly been. "Want of success had not damped 
 my energies, as the converse had not rendered yours, supine. 
 As we were chatting together, one day, after dinner, over 
 a glass or two of that ruby juice which is forbidden to man 
 by the Sons of Temperance and the Maine Law, you mani- 
 fested a strong desire to visit America, in company with your 
 
176 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 talented daughter, whose charms, both of voice and person, 
 will, I believe, soon place her in the rank of a leading prima 
 donna. 
 
 I promised you, at that time, to write to you when a favor- 
 able moment for the realization of your wish should arrive, 
 and volunteered to fill the post of your correspondent, for the 
 purpose of keeping you posted up with regard to musical 
 doings and musical matters upon my side of the Atlantic. In 
 accordance with this promise, I was going to write to you, in. 
 last July, that stocks in the musical market were on the de- 
 cline, when, one morning, I happened, while sipping my coffee, 
 to turn over the pages of one of the New York journals. 
 
 There I . read, that " M. "W. Balfe had been engaged to 
 come to America, for the purpose of -taking the place of Max 
 Maretzek during the next Operatic season." 
 
 Let me say, my dear friend, that I was more than pleased 
 — I was delighted on reading this bit of musical intelligence. 
 
 You and my readers may smile, perchance, at this asser- 
 tion. But let me conscientiously explain to you the reasons 
 of my pleasure, and you, at least, may candidly admit that my 
 self-valuation (all of us who are worth anything, have more 
 or less of it) might be highly gratified by this announcement. 
 
 The idea of my dismissal could only have been originated 
 by some of my personal enemies, and its realization could 
 only have been effected by their influence with the Directors 
 of the Academy of Music. As for the public at large, it 
 could- have had no desire of, and no interest in my removal 
 from the position I had occupied. During seven years that 
 I have been connected with Opera in the United States, I 
 have never failed in doing my duty towards that public, to 
 the best of my abilities. Moreover, I may frankly flatter 
 myself, that at this moment, I still possess the positive sym- 
 pathy and patronage of the impartial portion of it. It was, 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 177 
 
 therefore, highly satisfactory to me that in carrying out their 
 efforts to replace, or, rather, to displace me, my enemies 
 should have publicly admitted that no reputation short of 
 your own would suffice to cancel me in public estimation. 
 And, indeed, I should hope that you also would feel some' de- 
 gree of self-appreciation in reflecting that I had been your 
 assistant, and, in some sort, even your pupil, during the three 
 years that you conducted the Orchestra of Her Majesty's 
 Theatre in London ; as these facts may prove to you that 
 your then youthful assistant has done you and your high 
 reputation no discredit. 
 
 But, not only would my personal pride have been satisfied 
 in your engagement. 
 
 In you, I saw, instead of a powerful and dangerous rival, 
 the very avenger whom I at this time needed. 
 
 The crimes, for which I had been indicted by the advisers 
 of the last management of the Academy of Music, were a 
 too great power over the members of my Orchestra and 
 the Chorus ; too much influence with the artists themselves ; 
 a disposition to protect the rights and interests (we all have 
 our rights and interests, my good friend, whether in Repub- 
 lican America, Aristocratic England, or Imperial Russia) of 
 the lower employes of the Academy ; as well as an undis- 
 guised contempt for the Art-degrading braggadocio of a 
 certain Chevalier d" Industrie, who was unfortunately en- 
 gaged, during the last season, as the acting Manager. " Un- 
 fortunately," I say, and, what is more, " unfortunately for 
 the management," as in other hands, "William Tell" and 
 " H Trovatore " with the success that they had, must have 
 left a considerable balance in favor of the treasury of the 
 establishment. Now, knowing well, by personal experience, 
 your own temper, and your own feelings — knowing also your 
 
 own position as a maestro — I foresaw that they were only 
 
 8* 
 
178 KEYELATIONS OF AN 
 
 making their way "out of the frying-pan" to fall "into the 
 fire." As for the probable material loss which your pre- 
 sence in this country might have occasioned me, let me con- 
 fess to you, that in thinking of it, I cast my eyes across the 
 map of the United States. Curiously, as I had never before 
 done, did I examine the relative proportions between the city 
 of New York and the length and breadth of this Continent. 
 After this careful scrutiny, I came to the conclusion that 
 room and space for both of us might in all probability be 
 found here. It appeared to me in some degree probable, 
 that my reputation in America, as well as my American 
 friends might possibly have been sufficient to enable me to 
 enter upon some other musical speculation, and that your un- 
 dertaking the musical direction of the Academy would have 
 been no impervious obstacle to the continuance of our friendly 
 intercourse of some ten years' standing. 
 
 Soon afterwards, however, I ascertained, much to my dis- 
 appointment, that the whole of this story was a mere in- 
 vention. 
 
 It had been framed in order to frighten me into greater 
 pliancy, by one of those highwaymen upon the road of Art, 
 who had the intention of laying hold of the management of 
 the Academy for the present season with his own fingers, 
 and putting it into his own pocket. 
 
 The knowledge of this fact was, of itself, amply sufficient 
 to induce me to refuse any connection with the Academy of 
 Music, in case this individual should hold any " official posi- 
 tion" in it, and to raise, or determine upon raising a powerful 
 opposition, the moment his notorious musical intrigues should 
 obtain for himself an actual position in its management. This 
 determination is it which, I flatter myself, has had a consi- 
 derable influence in preventing his success. The manage- 
 ment is again in most thoroughly respectable hands. His 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 179 
 
 position in connection with it, is nameless, and I have been 
 re-engaged as the Musical Director and Conductor attached 
 to the establishment. 
 
 From the reasons which have been indicated to you, my 
 dear Balfe, I regret that the announcement of your intended 
 or projected arrival did not arise from a nobler motive, and 
 had no more credible origin. 
 
 Believe me, when I say, that I should have hailed ypur 
 arrival in this country with the most unbounded satisfaction. 
 
 Should you still retain the intention you expressed to me, 
 when we last met, of visiting the United States, will you 
 allow me to give you a few words of caution ? These are, 
 by all means, to have nothing to do with the class of men 
 who denominate themselves musical agents or musical cor- 
 respondents, in or for America. Expose yourself in no way 
 to their meddling or interference with your concerns, but 
 visit us yourself. 
 
 It may be presumed that you have seen enough, and had 
 sufficient experience of the theatrical agents and correspond- 
 ents in Italy, to measure them at their right value. 
 
 But, my friend, you cannot compare for one moment the 
 Italian with the American branch of the same genus. It is 
 true, that the Italian correspondent carries out a regular 
 artistic slave-trade under the protection of the local authori- 
 ties. The infamous extortions, abuses, impositions and 
 degrading domination practised in Italy, by these industriels, 
 upon artists, might furnish the rough material for a book 
 which, if well wrought up, would surpass in interest the 
 stirring scenes of the Eomance (!) penned by that worthy 
 dealer in fiction, Mrs. Beecher Stowe. Instead of " Uncle 
 Tom's Cabin," let me advise some well-informed writer of 
 fiction to trace the graphic outlines of a verbal picture, 
 which may be denominated the " Boudoir of a Prima Donna." 
 
180 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 Let him describe, and this too with a faithful and fearless 
 pen, the life, the martyrdom, and the trials and sufferings of 
 those vocalists who have unfortunately fallen into the hands 
 of an Italian merchant in musical flesh. Let him explain to 
 the public how they have been sold and resold, at so much 
 per note, without the formality, at times, even of requiring 
 their own consent. Let him narrate in what manner the 
 cash for which their voices have been disposed of, has swollen 
 other pockets than their own, while they have been left 
 voiceless and moneyless, exposed to the bitter chances of 
 this world. 
 
 But let him do this as he may — let talent, and wit, and 
 shrewdness run from the point of his pen — let him evince 
 the keenest of knowledges of human nature, yet would I, 
 my dear friend, defy him, save by positive experience, to 
 arrive at a due recognition of the various rascalities of the 
 American musical agent. 
 
 In justice to my adopted country, allow me to tell you, my 
 good Balfe, that he is almost invariably of foreign birth. 
 German, English, French, or Irish he may be, but rarely is 
 he a lona-Jlde out-and-out American. 
 
 The Italian, almost invariably, does his business openly 
 and in the broad daylight. He speculates simply upon 
 artistic poverty or folly. The miserable vocalist who sells 
 himself or herself, knows beforehand what he or she has to 
 expect. Knowing themselves to be the victims of their own 
 necessities, chance may have given them a voice and a 
 constitution strong enough to resist their slavery, and to 
 outlive its term of labor. Then, they may be able to work 
 upon their own account. That reputation which the musical 
 slaveholder had created for his bondsman or bondswoman, 
 may yet turn out of some advantage to them. 
 
 Afraid to act in an open and straightforward manner, the 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 181 
 
 musical agent in the United States lies in ambush for the 
 unsuspecting stranger he has marked as his prey. Like 
 the Vampyre, who plays such a prominent part in Hungarian 
 legendary lore, he fans the artist to slumber with his flattery, 
 and leaves him not, until the last drop of blood, i. e. of money, 
 has been sucked out of him. As the Boa- Constrictor, when 
 he has enveloped his victim in his coils, he licks his or her 
 acuteness all over with his drivelling tongue, until it is at last 
 unable to detect his dishonesty. Then he swallows the luck- 
 less vocalist's entire success, and retires for the summer 
 months to sleep himself into renewed activity for the follow- 
 ing autumn. 
 
 The Italian agent's own interest does not allow his 
 victim's reputation to be starved into inanition. Here, the 
 agent, after having ruined his client, is^ haunted with the 
 dread of exposure. He, consequently, attempts to slay him 
 or her with the poison of calumny. Not satisfied with the 
 booty he has secured, he endeavors to cut the throat of the 
 artist whose pockets he has plundered with the sharp edge 
 of slander. 
 
 Beware, my beloved friend, then, how you suffer yourself 
 to be inveigled within the coils of an operatic agent in 
 America. 
 
 He will undertake to insure your success. But, believe 
 me, it will be done with your own money, and very decidedly 
 for his own interests. Firstly, he will cause a monster 
 " serenade" to be given to you. It will be enacted under 
 your windows, at nine or ten o'clock in the evening, and will 
 be attended with prodigious enthusiasm. You will retire to 
 your couch, and wrapped in pleasant slumbers, you will 
 dream of that love for Art, and consequently for the artist, 
 which has taken up its home bodily in the New World. As 
 you are sitting in your room, the next morning, enveloped . 
 
182 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 in your robe de chambrz and soaking your slice of dry toast 
 in your coffee, your pleasant convictions respecting the 
 ovation of the preceding evening will be seriously disturbed. 
 The bill for the serenade will be presented to you. You will 
 find that each musician costs you about ten dollars, while 
 the enthusiasm is collaterally valued at two dollars per pair 
 of lungs. Thus, every piece of music to which you had 
 listened with such a delighted and delightful patience, in- 
 cluding " Yankee Doodle" (which you are bound to express 
 your admiration of), costs you about twenty-five dollars, 
 while each " Vivat" may be rated at some fifty cents. 
 
 As a mere matter of course, this money passes through 
 the agent's hands, and, by a singular chance, one half at the 
 least of it, is placed in his own pocket. 
 
 In the second place, he will have a brief sketch of your 
 biography, (what does it matter to you, that it is filled with 
 impossible and improbable lies?) anecdotes of your career 
 (you need not trouble to detail them to him), as well as all 
 kinds of puffs, prepared and published. These, be it ob- 
 served, the press of New York will, with very few excep- 
 tions, most kindly insert, in the belief that they are forward- 
 ing your interests, for nothing. They know not that while 
 they are doing it with the idea of assisting you, they are 
 actually filling his purse. He will make you account to him 
 for each line of your biography, in every paper it has ap- 
 peared in, at the rate of some five or six cents. 
 
 Nay ! not only will he expect you to pay him for that 
 which he had procured without any payment, but will actually 
 hint to you that he ought to receive a handsome present, as a 
 mark of your esteem for his invaluable services, and your 
 approbation of his integrity. 
 
 On the evening preceding your debut, this conscientious 
 individual will urge upon your attention the necessity (with 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 183 
 
 him, it is a paramount one) of filling your house or concert- 
 room with enthusiastic dead-heads. You believe him, and 
 allow him to operate for you in this comparatively new branch 
 of your musical career. On the morning following your ap- 
 pearance, you are astounded, in consequence, to hear that 
 your crowded audience consisted of 1675 of these kindly 
 supernumeraries, and 132 of the paying public. ; while, at the 
 same time, instead of having your previously fancied receipts 
 accounted for, you receive another bill from him for claqueurs, 
 crowns, bouquets, and other ovations, you had conceived spon- 
 taneously offered to your own talent. 
 
 These, and manoeuvres of a similar class, are repeated on 
 each occasion when you arrive in a new city; for to you they 
 are new cities, although by no means so to your agent. 
 
 At length, after a few months have expired, your patience 
 gives way. You turn upon him, and-ask for what you have 
 "been toiling, and sacrificing your money, your time and your 
 labor. He will distend his eyes with a stare of injured inno- 
 cence, and answer that he too has labored by day and night, 
 simply, that he might have the undeniable glory of preparing 
 your ultimate (!) success. 
 
 Necessarily, you are unwilling any longer to "foot" the 
 losses_incurred through his agency. 
 
 From that moment, your former agent becomes your open 
 enemy. He declares that he has slaved, to insure your suc- 
 cess, for nothing. In a word, he asserts that he has not been 
 paid for his time, or for his unparalleled devotion to you and 
 to your interests. He says, everywhere, that the reputation 
 you enjoy, and have enjoyed, is owing entirely to the skill he 
 has displayed in its manufacture. Your excellent houses 
 would never have been filled, but for his management and 
 his dead-heads. Perhaps he even goes still farther, and 
 asserts that your execution, (should you be a vocal artist) 
 
184 EEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 or your manipulation (if you chance to be an instrumental 
 one) is principally due to his advice and criticism. As 
 a return for his sacrifices, his toil, and his- losses, what 
 have you repaid him with ? He grieves to say it — he may 
 possibly weep as he does so — you have repaid him with the 
 basest ingratitude. 
 
 Therefore, my dear Balfe, let me entreat you, if ever you 
 should come to America, to beware of suffering yourself to 
 be trepanned by an Operatic Agent. 
 
 Possibly, their nuisance has latterly somewhat abated. But, 
 at the period during which the reputation of Jenny Lind was 
 in the ascendant, they actually swarmed upon us as mosqui- 
 toes do in the months of August and-September. 
 
 The very call-boys in the theatres were ambitious of be- 
 coming Barnums. Not a hungry teacher of the piano, nor a 
 theatrical check-taker, but had a longing to try his hand at 
 the great game of sowing nothing and reaping dollars. There 
 was not a dealer in concert-tickets but would have given the 
 hair from his head to gather money by the speculation in 
 operatic stars. Many really talented artists were induced, by 
 the stories told them by embryo speculators of this stamp, to 
 visit America, and necessarily fell into the trap laid for their 
 attractions. 
 
 Amongst others, was your beautiful, spiritual, and genial 
 countrywoman, Catherine Hayes. 
 
 She was engaged by an association of such would-be Bar- 
 nums, who, as I believe, intentionally placed at their head an 
 inexperienced and inoffensive entrepreneur of the name of 
 Wardwell. I say, intentionally, for they kept sedulously in 
 the background. It appears to me, now, when X reflect upon 
 it, like a hungry set of wolves draping themselves in a sheep- 
 skin. They borrowed Mr. Wardwell's name, that they might 
 
OPERA MANA&ER IN AMERICA. 185 
 
 the more readily and easily " humbug" the public, and take 
 in Catherine Hayes. 
 
 However, in a pecuniary point of view, this enterprise 
 utterly failed. 
 
 Remember, that I am not now speaking of the failure of 
 the Irish soprano. Since she divorced her interests from 
 theirs, it has been told me that she has succeeded, and I have 
 every reason to believe this. In California, Australia, and 
 India, she has alike gathered in a golden reward for her un- 
 doubted talent. But, with them, the speculative engagement 
 of her voice came to an unlucky ending. For this, there 
 were numerous reasons. In the first place, you will remem- 
 ber an old proverb, which exists in the language you were 
 born to, as well as in mine own. It is this, Balfe, and is 
 uncommonly expressive — " too many .cooks spoil the broth." 
 Now, if one agent is enough to ruin, in a general point of 
 view, the chance for success of a single artist, only imagine, 
 how this must be quadrupled or quintupled when the number 
 of them amounts to a round half-dozen, speculating under the 
 thin mask of a single well-meaning and honest man. In the 
 second place, they showed then- want of a knowledge of their 
 own country, or that to which they were at the time belong- 
 ing, by the attempt to create an excitement in favor of the 
 lady they had engaged, by appealing to the patriotism of the 
 Irish portion of our population. This naturally produced a 
 want of confidence in the abilities of the fair-haired Cathe- 
 rine, and, soon after, a decided reaction against her on the 
 part of the American public. Finally, these speculators were 
 purely without the slightest inventive genius. They attempted 
 to follow in Barnum's course, by faithfully planting their feet 
 in the foot-prints he had left behind him. His tactics were 
 sedulously and most indiscreetly followed with scrupulous 
 exactitude. They forgot that he had already worn them out. 
 
186 REVELATIONS OP AN. 
 
 Their effect had been already lost. Thus, one of their 
 greatest errors was the attempt to proclaim the " holy im- 
 maculacy" of their prima donna. She may have, in truth, 
 been everything which P.JT. B. had proclaimed Jenny Lind 
 to be, but this " puff" had succeeded for Jenny, on the score 
 of its rich and unexampled novelty. The " Prince of Hum- 
 bugs" had been accustomed to deal in all sorts of curiosities, 
 and this time he had discovered a new one. In the repetition 
 of this " puff," however, its attraction had been lost. The 
 public, once entrapped, were not to be caught a second time. 
 Once, they had admired in a vocalist those qualities, and 
 estimated those virtues which might be found in almost every 
 private family, among their, own wives and daughters. Now, 
 they felt that an artist had to depend simply upon his or her 
 own artistic excellence, for artistic success. The fact was 
 again recognized by them, that private goodness is not a 
 quality which demands adulation. It is nothing more than a 
 mere duty. 
 
 Not a doubt now exists upon my part, my good Balfe, but 
 that Catherine Hayes could have stood the test of the severest 
 criticism. 
 
 As a vocalist, she might, without losing a single laurel, 
 have been named with almost any one of her contemporaries. 
 No such blundering attempt was needed, to drape her ex- 
 cellencies with the mantle of morality, which, to tell the truth, 
 had somewhat soiled in the hands of its original inventor, 
 and frayed its edges upon the person of her for whom he 
 had in the first place shapen it. 
 
 Besides these causes of her ill success, there was another. 
 This was, I need scarcely say, perceptible enough to our 
 public, who are by no means such ignoramuses in matters of 
 Art as it has been the fashion to represent them in Europe. 
 
 The troupe which accompanied Miss Hayes to the United 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 187 
 
 States was by no means conspicuous for. its first-rate talent. 
 It consisted of Messrs. Mengis, Augustus Braham, and 
 Lavenu. Mengis, you know, had been an unsuccessful tenor, 
 and when his upper notes had failed him, had transmuted 
 himself with the remainder into an incomplete barytone. As 
 for Augustus Braham, he had been an officer in the English 
 army, and had quitted it with a reliance on a fair tenor voice, 
 and his patronymic, to endorse him as a vocalist. Lavenu 
 was a good-fellow, with small claims to rank as a Conductor, 
 for anything save quadrille-music. Now, when this com- 
 pany was compared with that which had assisted Jenny Lind 
 — when Benedict and Lavenu were named together, when 
 Mengis was measured with Beletti, and the Brahamling had 
 his vocal inches counted off against those of Salvi, the 
 . result could scarcely remain doubtful. It was also very 
 greatly inferior to the Havana Opera troupe, who were at 
 this time playing under my direction in New York and 
 Philadelphia. This fact, those who had the charge of 
 Catherine Hayes and the artists who had accompanied her, 
 soon found out, and it was thought necessary by them to 
 add a portion of my attractions to the only attractive part 
 of their company — Catherine Hayes herself. 
 
 Accordingly, one morning, a double-faced and double- 
 tongued member of the fraternity of musical agents paid 
 me a visit. His purpose was to propose an arrangement 
 between myself and the Wardwell party, by which I should 
 lend the services of some of my best artists to the Hayes 
 Concerts. The, terms to which we eventually came, when 
 this had been discussed and agreed upon between us, were 
 $5,000 per month. 
 
 The contract was duly drawn up and signed, and I allowed 
 them to make use of the tenors Bettini and Lorini, the bary- 
 tone Badiali, and the basso Marini, with Madame Bertucca- 
 
188 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 Maretzek as a soloist on the harp. This they did, both at 
 the Concerts in New York and Boston. Of course, with such 
 an entourage, the indisputable talent of Miss Hayes, and her 
 fresh voice, produced the required effect. 
 
 In the mean time, I had paid the salaries of these artists, 
 and had advanced their necessary hotel expenses. 
 
 But when, at the termination of the first month of their 
 services, I applied to Mr. "Wardwell for the stipulated re- 
 muneration, I was not only paid (the only payment that I 
 could induce him or his employers to make me, of their own 
 accord) with abuse, but was actually accused of having 
 intrigued against Catherine Hayes, and having done my best 
 to ruin her reputation in this country. He, apparently, 
 would not understand, or possibly was not allowed to do so 
 by the agents in whose behalf he was ostensibly acting, 
 that $5,000 per month, in aid of my expenses, was the best 
 security he could have had to insure my support to his ex- 
 ertions. While it was unpaid me, should I not have been a 
 fool, my dear friend, to have in any way attempted to injure 
 her chance of filling his treasury? 
 
 This necessitated me to go to law with him. And here let 
 me give you another word of advice, Balfe. The knowledge 
 from which it comes has been rather expensively acquired, 
 but believe me, it is none the less valuable, that Max 
 Maretzek has paid to obtain it. Should you visit this 
 country, never think of going to law in it. 
 
 After years of law-suits and their constant costs, I obtained 
 from one of the employers of Mr. Wardwell the sum of 
 
 This was all I ever got from them for the services of my 
 artists. Yet I had actually disbursed some $3,800 in that 
 month, for the salaries, hotel bills, and travelling expenses 
 of those very artists. They had assisted Catherine Hayes in 
 
OPBBA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 189 
 
 these concerts, given on behalf of Wardwell and the invisi- 
 ble Company behind him. But for their services I literally 
 received something less than one-sixth of the sum, which I 
 had paid with the view of assisting them, at the same time 
 that I was insuring a portion of my own operatic season 
 from actual loss. 
 
 At length, their prima donna herself got tired out with 
 their constant inefficiency and ignorance of musical matters. 
 She, consequently, broke her engagement with Cramer and 
 Beale of London, through whom she had been re-leased to 
 them, not, however, without being instigated to this breach 
 of contract by some other musical agents, who meddled in 
 the matter with the view of securing her for themselves. 
 These, as it afterwards turned out, did not succeed in their 
 purpose. She fell into the hands of Messrs. Kemp and 
 Bushnell. 
 
 This loss of $5,000, added to those of my disastrous 
 Opera season at Castle Garden, which have been detailed in 
 a former letter to Professor Fischof (if I am right, an old 
 acquaintance of yours), began very seriously to embarrass 
 me. 
 
 However, I would not yet despair., You know, my good 
 Balfe, that the musical element in the mental constitution of 
 man is in all cases singularly hopeful. 
 
 Consequently, I divided my large and powerful company, 
 and began for my third year with one portion of it at the 
 Astor Place Opera House, while I sent another section of it 
 to travel in the Southern States. My object was, at the 
 close of my regular season in New York, to meet them, and 
 unite both portions of my troupe, with the intention of 
 making a trip to M ex i co - 
 
 Before I, however, narrate the. adventures of my ventur- 
 ous speculation, for a man who was at the time revolving 
 
190 EEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 round the yawning jaws of ruin, a task imposes itself upon 
 my pen. This is the mention of another celebrity of world- 
 wide reputation, who, attracted by the stories of the fabulous 
 amount of profits attendant upon Jenny Lind's visit to these 
 shores, had also decided upon honoring us with her presence. 
 Need you be told that this was the Gountess Von Lansfeldt- 
 Hea-d, ne or self-christened (it would be impossible for 
 you or myself either to say or to divine which) Lola 
 Montez — the female Harry the Eighth, in all, at least, but 
 the decapitation of her very numerous legitimate and illegi- 
 timate spouses. 
 
 Sickened out with Europe, disgusted with the effete and 
 enervated human race of the Old World, she passed into the 
 New one. 
 
 Her main object was necessarily the golden approbation 
 which Barnum had so tangibly brought before the dazzled 
 eyes of the children of the elder hemisphere. Her purely 
 secondary one was to search for a new candidate for the 
 matrimonial, though somewhat aged charms, which had been 
 honored by the embraces of Royalty when in its dotage. 
 
 " She came, she saw," but, unlike him who passed the Rubi- 
 con, she did not conquer. On the contrary, she ingloriously 
 failed. 
 
 Do not, however, for one instant imagine, that her failure 
 was to be attributed to a too complete imitation of the Ma- 
 chiavelian tactics of the illustrious P. T. B. By no means 
 was she likely to make too great a show of virtue and mo- 
 rality. On the contrary, she attempted to play the same 
 game which was afterwards perfected in the singular suc- 
 cess of Father Gavazzi. Yes, my good Balfe, she announced 
 herself to the New "World as a victim. She had been (so 
 at least did she say) ruined by Jesuitical and Diplomatic in- 
 trigue. Had she been at all able, or had she possessed the 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 191 
 
 inclination to veil her previous character, she must undoubt- 
 edly have succeeded. Nay ! had she but kept diplomacy in 
 the background, she might, in spite of that previous and no- 
 torious reputation, have done so. Unfortunately, diplomats 
 and dancers have been too often suspiciously linked together 
 in the eyes of the world. Sometimes one, and sometimes 
 the other, and not unfrequently both are victimized, although, 
 to tell the truth, the latter occurrence may be regarded as 
 somewhat of a rarity. Consequently, the public looked with 
 suspicion on all that was asseverated by her agents. They 
 valued the persecution she claimed as portion of her pre- 
 vious history at its right worth, and- estimated her personal 
 excellency precisely at its true value. 
 
 When she first made her appearance upon the boards of 
 the Broadway Theatre, she attracted, as every novelty will 
 do when it has been sufficiently talked about, an immense 
 audience. Be it observed, however, that not a single lady 
 was present. 
 
 As for her style of dancing, that produced not the slightest 
 sensation. However, my dear friend, you must not attribute 
 to us a deadness to the attractions of the Terpsichorean Art, 
 upon this account. 
 
 You know, for you have seen Lola on the stage, (let me 
 not take the liberty of suggesting that you have ever spoken 
 to her off the arena of her saltatory exhibitions) that she 
 has her own peculiar mode of dancing. Need I remind you, 
 that this mode differs materially from that of any other of 
 the daughters of Terpsichore ? Fanny Ellsler translates a 
 stanza of Tasso with an entrechat, or modulates a sonnet of 
 Petrarca into a pirouette. The lithe limbs and fawn-like 
 figure of Marie Taglioni embody, with their undulating move- 
 ment, the tenderer emotions in Byron's " Don Juan.'' Plump 
 and round Cerito sings with her legs a voluptuous passage 
 
192 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 from the heathen Ovid's "Art of Love ;'' while Carlotta Grisi 
 and Eosati narrate, in their pas seuh, a fantastic tale from 
 Hoffman, or translate a legend from the " Thousand-and-one 
 Nights," with a more witching grace than any which had be- 
 fore been infused into them by the pen of their transcribers. 
 
 However, the dancing of Lola Montez resembles another 
 class of literature, and realizes a purely different style of 
 verbal creation in its fleshly movement. In some degree, it 
 approximates to a work which I have some indistinct remem- 
 brance of, called the " Memoirs of Casanova." Were I to fix 
 on that, with the genius of which it is almost identical, my 
 decision would unhesitatingly be given in favor of " Barnum's 
 Autobiography." 
 
 This, alone, might suggest a sufficient reason for her 
 failure. 
 
 Moreover, in America, she forbore to give those profuse 
 exhibitions of her person, which, in her younger years in 
 Europe, were added to her dancing. It may be that she had 
 grown dubious of the propriety of exhibiting all the beauties 
 which had once fascinated Liszt, and through his admiration 
 of which, Ludwig Von Baiern had lost both his throne and 
 his wits. Or was it, perchance, that European Diplomacy 
 and Eoman Catholic Jesuitism had worn away and destroyed 
 their former grace ? For I cannot believe that years had 
 tamed her into modesty, or taught her to moralize in muslin 
 and wear the pantalettes that redeem other weavers of 
 pirouettes from the charge of want of modesty. 
 
 At any rate, she failed. Curiosity brought her a few fine 
 houses, but curiosity created no admiration for her artistic 
 talent. 
 
 Having done so, she departed for New Orleans. There, 
 she kicked her Manager. Thence, she sailed for California. 
 In that locality, she found another husband. You see, my 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 193' 
 
 dear Balfe, the beautiful appositeness of that terse old Latin 
 saying— 
 
 " Sic transit, gloria mundi." , 
 
 Let me now return to my two Operatic companies, after 
 having spun for your amusement the foregoing episode. If 
 possibly not Homeric in the strictest sense of the term, be- 
 lieve me, when. I say that no E#oj of the events of the period 
 connected with Operatic or Histrionic agency, could have been 
 complete without it ; for this fact must be added to others, that 
 Lola Montez was, to the full, as insatiable in her acquisition 
 of agents as she might be of husbands, or of the temporary 
 occupants of corresponding situations. To tell the truth, she 
 had, at the least, a round dozen of either class during her 
 peregrinations across this continent. 
 
 One of the sections of my original troupe I kept, as indeed 
 you have earlier been told, in New York. 
 
 Here, Fortune once more smiled kindly upon my exertions. 
 My efforts for success were amply and generously rewarded 
 by the public. My promised season was fully carried out to 
 a successful termination. This was, however, under my own 
 direction. 
 
 But, woe to that Manager who suffers any portion of his 
 company to pass from under his own surveillance. 
 
 The results of this folly I had already experienced, in 
 allowing a portion of it to work under the directions of Mr. 
 Wardwell. I was now doomed to make a second proof of 
 this fact, and to make it by my own mismanagement. 
 
 The second section of my Operatic troupe went South, in 
 the charge of an agent. 
 
 His name it will be unnecessary to mention. It does' not 
 merit the honor of having its ignorance and weakness exposed 
 upon paper by my own pen. 
 
 You know, my dear friend, that all musicians, whether 
 
194 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 they are instrumentalists, vocalists, or composers, are alike 
 inflicted with a slight infirmity of temper. Indeed, they may 
 very safely be classed as the most quarrelsome set of beings 
 upon the face of God's round earth. Perhaps, even you and 
 myself may not be altogether unfairly included in this cate- 
 gory. There is an antique tradition, (it may be called antique 
 in this New World, although scarcely entitled to such a name 
 in Europe) that the Duke of Brunswick, some century since, 
 (the presumed parent of George I. of England) who was 
 called Frederick Augustus, was, at one time, confoundedly 
 embarrassed by the resignation of his Musical Intendant. 
 This officer, who was the Composer Steffani, had retired 
 from his position in his Serene Highness's household, in con- 
 sequence of the troubles and annoyances resulting from the 
 quarrelsome habits of the Duke's Operatic singers, or, as he 
 called them, " Operatic .Savages." 
 
 Frederick Augustus reflected, and then determined upon 
 trying to manage them himself. 
 
 He tried it for a week, after which, he sent for the ex- 
 intendant. 
 
 " Steffani," he said, " at my request, you must withdraw 
 your resignation." 
 
 " Your Highness must excuse me. I cannot." 
 
 The Duke walked abruptly across the chamber, and 
 paused for a moment. Then he returned, and laid his hand 
 on the composer's shoulder. 
 
 " You must, my old and faithful servant, return to your 
 post." 
 
 " But — your Highness !" — 
 
 " Donner und Teufel!" burst out the great Prince. " But, 
 I tell you, I need you." 
 
 " I am sorry" — commenced Steffani. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 195 
 
 " Can you not see that I am even now on the Confes- 
 sional ?" ^, 
 
 "I do not understand what your Highness is saying," 
 answered the composer. 
 
 " Why, I was about telling you, that I find it a far easier 
 thing to command an army of fifty thousand men, than to 
 manage half a dozen rascally Opera-singers." 
 
 Steffani bowed, and returned to his duties. He was 
 satisfied with the Duke's avowal of incompetence. Frederick 
 Augustus never again interfered with management. 
 
 Philosophically considered, it is a curious fact, my good 
 Balfe, that the members of the most " harmonious" profession 
 in the world should be, in almost every instance, the most 
 " inharmonious" set of denizens upon its round surface. 
 This, I confess myself unable to account for. Keflection 
 has been spent upon it in vain, and it remains a riddle. 
 Why melody should give the temper so keen an edge — why, 
 after rehearsing the melting strains of the "Norma" or 
 singing the laughter-moving music of the " Barbiere," the 
 soprano should be in a temper to call her Manager " an 
 idiot," while the tenor should attempt to pull the nose of the 
 lasso, and the barytone should manage to make a diabolical 
 row because he has not been paid his salary some two days 
 , before it is due, has always puzzled me. 
 
 Did you ever know a Chorus who had not their daily 
 grievances? Certain is it, that I have yet to make an 
 acquaintance with such a " lusus naiurce." Have you ever 
 met with any Orchestra whose members could avoid differ- 
 ences among themselves, or had not to be ruled with an iron 
 hand by their Conductor ? If you have done so, safely may 
 it be said, that I never did. 
 
 Allow me to remind you of the witty epigram, made by a 
 wag of the period, on the quarrels of the members of the 
 
196 EEVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 Conservatoire, at Paris, in the year 1802. These had taken 
 such alarming proportions, as even to endanger the existence 
 of that noble institution. It ran thus :* — 
 
 " J'admire leurs talents, et meme leur genie, 
 
 Mais au fond ils ont un grand tort ; 
 C'est de s'intituler Professeurs d]Harmonie, 
 
 Et de n'e'tre jamais d'accord." 
 
 However, it must fairly be owned, that in placing a portion 
 of my company in the charge of an agent, I ought to have 
 expected no better result. We all, my good friend, have to 
 live and learn. This was one of the lessons I have been 
 gathering as age grows upon me. 
 
 From Baltimore and Washington, my agent wrote two 
 letters. In these, he informed me, that he was proceeding to 
 New Orleans, where he was confident of having a profit of 
 at the least $10,000, on the right side of his balance- 
 sheet. 
 
 Imagine me, Balfe, as I walked down Broadway, with my 
 pockets buttoned up and rejoicing in the conviction that this 
 season would retrieve my previous losses. My spirit was 
 Alnascharized. As the Utopian dreamer in the Arabian 
 fable, I bore my basket of eggs. — No ! unfortunately, I did 
 not bear them upon my own head. Had I done so, greater 
 care would very certainly have been taken of them. Scarcely 
 
 * Through the kindness of a friend, I am enahled to give the follow- 
 ing rendering of the idea of this epigram. From the pun in the last 
 line, it is impossible to translate it more nearly. 
 
 Their talent and genius, I own, I admire, 
 And yet they commit a great wrong ; 
 
 Though entitled Professors of Harmony, 
 No two e'er can sing the same song. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 197 
 
 is it probable, that they would have been so thoroughly and 
 completely smashed. 
 
 Shortly afterwards, the news came to me from Richmond, 
 that my agent had managed to involve himself in a very 
 prejudicial controversy with the press of that city. 
 
 This, I said to myself, was an accident. Had he not 
 promised me a profit of $10,000 ? 
 
 While he was yet at Charleston, the intelligence reached 
 me, that he had got into serious troubles with the vocalists 
 placed under his charge. 
 
 It was to be expected, I muttered. When did a singer 
 fail to quarrel with his or her Manager? The $10,000 still 
 colored my thoughts. 
 
 One morning, when I had strolled down to the office of the 
 Astor Place Opera House, what was my surprise to^ see him. 
 My eyes opened, as do those of Leporello, when the statue 
 of the Oommandante first addresses Don Juan. The unlucky 
 wretch had returned from Savannah, to detail me his mis- 
 fortunes. He had quarrelled with his troupe, and, conse- 
 quently, had been cowhided and beaten almost to a jelly by 
 the refractory artists. In short, they had broken into open 
 rebellion against his authority, and taken the opportunity of 
 giving him a lesson. Not being able to face them, unblush- 
 ingly, after this, and supposing that "discretion was the 
 better part of valor," he had then run away. My company, 
 or rather, the half of it, was therefore left alone. Like a 
 blind worm, an oyster, or a polypus, it rejoiced in having 
 neither head nor tail. 
 
 Now, although the artists who had placed themselves in 
 this difficulty by an open act of rebellion, deserved no pity 
 at my hands, there were many, in this instance, innocent 
 subalterns (members of the Orchestra, Chorus, and other 
 officials) connected with or engaged in the Southern division 
 
198 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 of my company, whom I could not conscientiously allow to 
 remain in a strange city, without the means either of return 
 or of subsistence. 
 
 It was true that I had made a good season in New York, 
 but its profits had been swallowed up by the outstanding 
 debts of my preceding musical campaign. 
 
 What, then, was I to do ? The immediate necessity for 
 action forced me to take the readiest means of assisting 
 them which was in my power, and I was consequently obliged 
 to sacrifice the greatest portion of my Operatic stock, con- 
 sisting of music, dresses, and properties, to enable myself to 
 bring back to New York the headless and tailless company 
 who were amusing themselves as best they could in the city 
 of Savannah. ■* 
 
 Now, in making this sacrifice, it had been my intention to 
 unite all my musical forces here, with the purpose of starting 
 with the whole of them, by another route, under my own 
 command. 
 
 This intention was unhappily doomed not to be put in exe- 
 cution. Some other of those musical agents who had lately 
 so plentifully cropped out of the manure Barnum had spread 
 upon the soil of American humanity, had recently become 
 aware of my somewhat precarious position. Representing 
 themselves, whether rightly or wrongly, it would be impos- 
 sible to say, (the word of a musical agent can never be 
 taken without doubt) as employed by Marty, the Havanese 
 impressario, they began to disseminate discord in my com- 
 pany. These gentlemen (if I am not wrong in giving them 
 such a name) intimated to the members of it, that Don 
 Francisco had the intention of engaging them again for 
 Havana, with the view of sending them, after the season for 
 Opera in that city had terminated, to New Orleans, and 
 thence to Mexico. If, however, they should determine upon 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 199 
 
 accompanying me to New Orleans, Marty would certainly not 
 engage them, as their novelty on one portion of the ground 
 selected for his after musical campaign would clearly be de- 
 stroyed. Therefore, in visiting that city with me, they would 
 throw away the probability of obtaining an engagement of 
 some eighteen or twenty-four months with him. These in- 
 ventions were naturally listened to, and more foolishly be- 
 lieved. They thought it better to sacrifice their certain two 
 or three months with me (they were still engaged for this 
 period) than to risk the mere probability of a two years' en- 
 gagement with Marty. 
 
 Having made up their minds, therefore, to this course, they 
 not only refused to proceed with me to New Orleans, but 
 announced their intention of definitely breaking their present 
 engagement. 
 
 Knowing my reduced means, they leagued themselves 
 with the view of performing on their own account, until — 
 Marty should think proper to offer to re-engage them. 
 
 But the internal jealousies and' dissensions which exist in 
 every Opera troupe did not permit them fully and completely 
 to carry out this plan. Mademoiselle Steffenone somehow 
 did not altogether like Signora Bosio. It was a truly unfor- 
 tunate circumstance, but the Signor Beneventano had one pet 
 hatred. It happened that this was for Cesar Badiali. If 
 there was any of the company whom Salvi specially disliked 
 and mistrusted, it was Signor Bettini. But Madame Bosio had 
 also her special mefiance of somebody else, while Biadali and 
 Bettini could hate and distrust other members of the troupe. 
 Suffice it to say, that I had not spent my time in manage- 
 ment without learning some of its secrets. Taking advantage 
 of these sentiments, whose existence had long been known 
 to me, I succeeded in detaching Steffenone, Salvi, Beneven- 
 tano and Marini from the league which had been formed 
 
200 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 against me, and was successful also in inducing the Signora 
 Parodi once more to place herself under my direction. With 
 these and other vocalists of less note, I was ready to start 
 either for New Orleans, or to open a new season in this city. 
 
 The remainder of my company, consisting of Bosio, De 
 Vries, Bettini, Lorini, Badiali, and Coletti, with some others, 
 constituted themselves into an independent opposition. 
 
 They called themselves " The Artists' Union Italian Opera 
 Company," and waited to receive a proposition from Don 
 Francisco Marty j Torrens. 
 
 During the interval that they would have to linger, ere 
 this hope would be fulfilled, they determined upon doing some- 
 thing. They, consequently, after some consultation, sub- 
 scribed a portion of that money which they had earned under 
 my management. Their object, evidently, was to *cut my 
 operatic throat with the expenditure of the cash which I had 
 paid them. A truly benevolent idea, teeming with the most 
 Christian gratitude, but it must candidly be said, a very 
 musical example of Italian generosity. Well, Balfe, this 
 "Artists' Union Italian Opera Company,'' with this money, 
 purchased some music and hired or bought some dresses. 
 They then engaged Niblo's Garden for their performances. 
 This was naturally a comfort to Mr. Niblo, whose Garden 
 was, at this time, unoccupied. 
 
 But believe not, my dear Balfe, that Niblo's Garden is a 
 garden. 
 
 It resemBles, in no ways, the Gardens at Cremorne or 
 Vauxhall, to which your mind was already likening it. 
 
 You must know that in this moral country, in almost every 
 city, one or two theatrical traps are set and baited with the- 
 atrical amusements, for the purpose of ensnaring the more 
 religious portion of the community. To avoid naming them 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 201 
 
 that which they are indubitably in fact, these theatrical traps 
 cloak themselves under the name of Museums. 
 
 Such a garden, as Barnum's Museum is a Museum, is 
 Niblo's Garden. 
 
 By this name, the scruples of conscience felt by a certain 
 portion of the public, are appeased. To me, I must confess, 
 it has always appeared a somewhat tight shave. But what 
 matters it ? The ear is satisfied, and the conscientious scruple 
 may be considered unbroken. 
 
 Some twenty-five years ago, I must acknowledge, this 
 theatre was simply a garden. In this garden, did the iden- 
 tical William Niblo sell his ice-creams, sherry-cobblers, and 
 other liquors. 
 
 Now,, however, it has completely changed. The Metropo- 
 litan Hotel, Niblo's Theatre, stores and other buildings occupy 
 the locality. Of the former garden nothing remains, save 
 the ice-cream and drinking-saloons attached to the theatre. 
 These take up literally as much room in the building as its 
 stage does, and prove that its proprietor has not altogether 
 overlooked the earlier vocation which laid the foundation of 
 his fortune. The name by which he calls it has never 
 changed. It was Niblo's Garden, when loving couples ate 
 their creams or drank their cobblers under the shadow of 
 the trees. It is Niblo's Garden, now, when it is turned into 
 a simple theatre, and hedged in with houses. Nay ! in the 
 very bills, which are circulated in the interior of the building 
 during the performances, you may find, or might shortly since 
 have found such an announcement as the following, appear- 
 ing in large letters : — 
 
 " Between the_ second and third Acts" — or possibly, it may 
 run thus, when Opera is not in the ascendant — " after the 
 conclusion of the first piece, an intermission of twenty 
 minutes takes place, for a promenade in the Garden." 
 
202 BEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 You will, I feel certain, my good friend, admit that this 
 is a marvellously delicate way of intimating to a gentleman 
 who may feel " dry" (it is the right word, is it not ?) that 
 he will find the time to slake his thirst. 
 
 When he returns, and his lady inquires where he has been, 
 he may reply if he wills it — 
 
 " Promenading in the garden." 
 
 Now, you and myself are not puritanical enough to con- 
 demn an honest man because he may chance to be the 
 Manager of a theatre or the impressario of a bar-room. 
 But were .bad brandy, sold there, or if he placed, generally, 
 upon the stage, the pantomimes which are given during a 
 London Christmas at " Sadlers' "Wells" and the " Surrey," 
 or the mixture of mime and farce which are afforded the 
 Parisian public, at the Funambules, we should decidedly not 
 accord him the honor of an inner cabinet in our memories. 
 Even more, while Arlequins, Pierrots, and Columbines are 
 the " stars" of the establishment, much as we may laugh at 
 their interchanges of blows and kicks and marvel at their 
 footprints left in each other's backs, we can but regret that 
 such things as these amuse the public, while we laugh with 
 them. 
 
 About Opera, the Manager speaks in very contemptuous 
 terms. Like the fox who has been unable to get at the 
 grapes, he declares them " sour." 
 
 But in spite of this, one of the distinguishing character- 
 istics of Mr. Niblo's tastes as a Manager is the desperate 
 longing to make his Garden the New York Opera House. 
 Could his opposition have effected it, he would have destroyed 
 the Astor Place Theatre.* Had he it in his power, he would 
 ruin the Academy of Music. He declares that he detests 
 
 * This he subsequently managed to do by an astuter mode than op- 
 position. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 203 
 
 Opera, but flirts around it every season, like a moth that is 
 burning its wings in the too attractive flame of a candle. 
 
 Whenever any one has been willing to oppose the estab- 
 lished operatic theatres, he had. but to go to William Niblo. 
 The taste of the Manager induced him to receive the indi- 
 vidual who was willing to try his fortune, with open arms. 
 
 Thus, were his means mainly instrumental in enabling a 
 musical agent, during the late season at the Academy, to 
 bring out the La Grange troupe in order to oppose it. So, 
 when the " Artists' Union Italian Opera Company" repaired 
 to him, they found him delighted with the chance of opposi- 
 tion which it afforded his Garden. 
 
 Had I, at this time, allowed my former artists to amuse 
 themselves with management, it is not to be doubted, but 
 that I could have made money in New Orleans. 
 
 But this was not to be. Listening to the request of those 
 vocalists, whom their likes and dislikes had induced to re- 
 main faithful to my fortunes, I ceded to the desires of the 
 proprietors of the Astor Place Opera House. Frightened 
 at the bare idea of opposition in another theatre, they also 
 requested me not to leave New York. Moreover, there is a 
 feeling amongst all mankind (at least all such as are worth 
 anything) which prompts them to resist the appearance of 
 doing that which they had determined upon putting in execu- 
 tion, should it seem to be done under compulsion. 
 
 This feeling I suffered, most unwisely, to operate upon my 
 mind. In doing this, I committed a great error. 
 
 Complying with the wishes of my artists to annihilate 
 their rivals, I yielded to the requests of those whose fears 
 had alone impelled them to apply to me. 
 
 Therefore, my tour to New Orleans was postponed for the 
 present, and I again opened the Opera House. 
 
 No sooner was this done by me, than the opposition com- 
 
204 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 pany (acting, as has been said, under the advice of Mr. Niblo) 
 lowered their prices of admission some fifty per cent. This was 
 done on the presumed impossibility of my lowering mine, at 
 all events in the same ratio, as I had already charged my sub- 
 scribers at the full price. At -first, this most materially 
 injured me ; so much so, indeed, that for the first time in four 
 years I asked the patrons and proprietors of the house to 
 assist me. You, my dear friend, will believe me when I say 
 that this was as much or more for the sake of their theatre, 
 as or than it was for my own. But, although they had en- 
 couraged me in the attempt, and entreated me to save their 
 house in this struggle, by and with my own means and talents, 
 they themselves refused to risk a single cent for my doing 
 so. From that moment, my determination was formed. 
 Henceforth, theatrical proprietors, whoever they might be, 
 might attend to and fight their own battles. My business, 
 from that moment, has been simply to save or increase • my 
 artistic reputation, with as little pecuniary loss and as large 
 a pecuniary gain, as is possible for that man who acts up- 
 rightly, and never evades the claims and calls of duty. 
 
 The remaining twelve subscription-nights were accord- 
 ingly postponed, until further notice should be given. My 
 prices of admission were lowered to fifty cents. The house 
 was thrown open to the masses of the people, and for the 
 first time, in New York, was the Italian version of Meyer- 
 beer's " Robert le Diable" produced. No expense had been 
 spared by me on the' mise en scene. The dresses were 
 superb. A grand corps de ballet had been engaged (I need 
 not tell you that we had no Carlotta Grisi or Lucilla Grahn 
 to place in it), and the cast was the following, which even 
 you, accustomed as you have been to the London and Pari- 
 sian casts, will admit was most excellent. Salvi, of course, 
 took the part of Robert, while Marini sung and acted the 
 
OPEEA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 205 
 
 rdh of Bertram, as I honestly believe, no vocalist who has 
 ever trodden this earth has yet done. Alice was in the hands 
 of Steffenone, and Bertucca appeared as the Princess Isabella. 
 This Opera, thus supported and placed upon the stage, at 
 once created a profound sensation. The doors of the 
 house, or rather of its box office, on the days of performance, 
 were literally besieged before their hour of opening. Tickets 
 were, in innumerable instances, sold four and even six days 
 ahead of the evening they were purchased for. Nightly, was 
 the house crammed to suffocation. The public, very natu- 
 rally, thought that I was making money. Never could there' 
 have been a greater mistake, although my entering upon 
 this season was a far more expensive error. 
 
 In consequence of the limited- size of the theatre, and the 
 reduction of the price of admission, upon the one side, with 
 the costly mise en scene and dresses, upon the other, the suc- 
 cessful (!) production of "Roberto il Diavolo" was a dead 
 loss. On every evening that the curtain was raised to a 
 packed audience, and, as the journals phrased it, with " im- 
 mense success," it fell upon a loss of some four hundred 
 dollars. 
 
 You may imagine my feelings, my good Balfe, when I 
 entered the house night after night, gazed round it, and took 
 my seat, fully aware that four hundred dollars more than its 
 contents would not pay my nightly expenses. Nevertheless, 
 I was forced to continue. The opposition had to be driven 
 from the battle-ground which I had so rashly entered upon. 
 They were forced to quit it. Two weeks after the first per- 
 formance of " Robert," they retired to Boston ; and in two 
 weeks more, the " Artists' Union Italian Opera Company" 
 dispersed, amidst quarrels, blows, and mutual vituperation, 
 having lost not only their time, but all the loose cash they 
 had embarked in their untoward speculation. 
 
206 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 As is the case, wherever Meyerbeer makes himself known, 
 a new era in musical taste and discrimination commenced in 
 New York. At the present time, his Operas, and some of 
 the latter works of Rossini, are alone capable of interesting 
 the American public. 
 
 Far be it from me, my dear friend, to intimate that I pre- 
 fer Meyerbeer to Rossini, or Rossini to Meyerbeer. 
 
 The dissertations on their comparative merits are, in my 
 opinion, to the full as absurd as the quarrels of the Gluckists 
 and Piccinists at the close of the last centuiy. My belief is 
 neither in the Italian nor in the German, neither in the 
 French nor in the Chinese school of melody. Indeed, I 
 invariably feel unwell when I chance upon and read some 
 very scientific and learned disquisition upon the various 
 schools of music. For my own part, I recognize but two 
 schools in music. Mozart, Rossini, Meyerbeer, Bellini, Weber, 
 Beethoven, Piccini, Cimarosa, Gluck, -Donizetti, and yourself, 
 also, my good Balfe, belong to the one. This is the school 
 of good music. Of the other, it will be perfectly unnecessary 
 to speak. 
 
 But, let me return to Meyerbeer. His- Operas have always 
 appeared to me, in point of their conception, the wideness 
 and truthfulness of his harmonic feeling, the adaptation of his 
 melodies to their subjects, the light and shadow of his orches- 
 tration, his conscientiousness in the most difficult feature of 
 all music — the positive discrimination of personal character, 
 as well as his studious and exquisite variety, the nearest ap- 
 proach to perfection as Operatic writing, that has appeared 
 up to the present day. Rossini, I admit, is an inexhaustible 
 fountain of melody. Perhaps more of the genius, he is very 
 certainly much less of the artist than is Meyerbeer. Or, 
 rather, for I feel that this scarcely expresses what my fingers 
 are striving to shape into written language, the first is the 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 207 
 
 Pope of Song, while the other is as decidedly its Martin 
 Luther. Remember, that in speaking thus, or, as I ought to 
 say, in 'writing thus, I allude strictly to Operatic song. Nei- 
 ther is it for Lutheranism of spirit that the Dramatic Muse 
 is alone so strikingly and largely indebted to Meyerbeer. 
 When an old score, wrought out by one of the earlier fathers 
 of Opera, is compared with one of the scores of Meyerbeer, 
 it reminds one of the measurement and mud-walls built and 
 made by Romulus and Remus, when placed, in imagination, 
 by the girdling marble and costly palaces and miles upon 
 miles of circuit of Imperial Rome. 
 
 Many opinions have been broached touching the time 
 when Opera had its' first birth, but most of the more curious 
 and learned gropers in the history of the past allow that this 
 was at the close of the sixteenth century. 
 
 As for its earlier development, this is purely fabulous. 
 The Greeks and Egyptians only dabbled in music, while 
 Livy, who, at the commencement of his Seventh Book, speaks 
 of the " ludi scenici," for which musicians from Etruria had 
 been expressly engaged, leaves us in doubt as to whether the 
 instruments were used to accompany the voice, or whether 
 the melody was intended for secular amusement or religious 
 purposes. But in whatever way music was originally used 
 by the Romans, you and I may safely coincide with the de- 
 tails given by later scholiasts, who attribute the invention of 
 Opera to a certain Rinucini, a poet, ( ! ) who wrote the libretto 
 of a drama in verse, called " Eurydice " for which an early 
 composer, named Jacobi Peri, composed the music. This 
 work was, for the first time, represented in Florence in or 
 about the year 1600, on the occasion of the festivities attend- 
 ing the marriage of Maria di Medicis with Henry the Fourth 
 of France. 
 
208 EEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Seven years subsequently to this, was the first Opera sup- 
 posed to have been printed. 
 
 This is called " L'Orfeo, una Favola in Musica." Its over- 
 ture consisted only of eight bars, the repetition of which was 
 enjoined upon the Orchestra, until the signal was given for 
 drawing up the curtain. We have made, my dear Balfe, as 
 it strikes me, a considerable advance in the two centuries 
 and a half which have elapsed since this period. The whole 
 Orchestra, indicated and required by this score, are a quar- 
 tette, of stringed instruments, consisting of two violins, a 
 guitar ( ! ) and a contra-basso, together with a single flute. 
 It appears to me, that we have also made a stride forward in 
 the constitution of our Orchestras. Instrumental music has 
 certainly not slumbered. Yet, singular is it, that even at 
 this epoch, criticism was, as it almost ever is, adverse to any 
 tangible advance in Art. With a not uncommon pertinacity 
 (even at the present day, similar examples are given us of 
 it), the would-be connoisseurs of the time complained that 
 the Orchestra, consisting of four stringed instruments and one 
 flute, was somewhat too loud.. 
 
 After Italy had made the first positive step forward, in 
 adapting music to scenic, representation, France followed; 
 the first French Opera being performed at Issy, in 1659. 
 It was called " Pomone," and had been composed by a musi- 
 cian named Cambert, who was the organist in the church of 
 St. Honore. The libretto was written by Perrin.' This work 
 was successful from its novelty, and the author was, shortly 
 after, dignified with the title of Operatic Manager to the 
 Court. Soon after he was, however, displaced by Louis 
 Quatorze, who appointed Lully in his place. Under the 
 regime of this great sovereign, Operatic Music made huge 
 strides. Lully, who was a man of decided talent, was associ- 
 ated with the poet, Quinault, who advanced considerably upon 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 209 
 
 the former writers of libretti. At the present moment, Lully 
 as you know, in all probability better than I do, is generally 
 regarded as the father of modern Opera. For him, the 
 Academy of Music, then called the Royal Academy, although 
 it has been baptized and re-baptized since that period with at 
 the least a round score of names, was originally chartered. 
 Under his direction, it was firmly established in national favor. 
 He wrote nineteen Operas, and as many or more Ballets for 
 the Court, in some of which we are told that Louis XIV. 
 took part himself. It may be marvelled, whether the music 
 to which a great monarch condescended to execute his entre- 
 chats, was as good as that to which Lola Montez has been 
 recently pirouetting. Suffice it, Balfe, that I very consider- 
 ably doubt it, and would lay a round wager that you agree 
 with me. 
 
 It was about one hundred years after the establishment of 
 the Eoyal Academy of Music in Paris, that the celebrated 
 musical war between the Gluckists and Piccinists took place. 
 In fury, it ceded to no civil strife, save that of the Guelfs and 
 Ghibellines. "With less, or should I not say with no blood 
 spilt in it, it far surpassed that in acerbity. 
 
 But to those with whom Music is as Religion, it may be 
 said, that in spite of his judgment and his genius, Gluck is no 
 more than the St. John in the Wilderness, sent before, to 
 herald the advent of the musical Messiah, (do not believe 
 that I speak it irreverently, my friend) for such is Mozart. 
 Rossini and Meyerbeer only hold, when compared with him, 
 the positions which I have already assigned them. You 
 must, however, allow me to say, in again speaking of Meyer- 
 beer that when I ranked him as the great innovator and 
 Reformer in Music, I did not conceive that his intentions had 
 been fully developed in the Opera to which I was then al- 
 luding. Although it must ever be regarded as a remarkable 
 
210 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 work, in " Robert le Diable," Meyerbeer appears to have 
 been wavering and unsettled in his musical convictions. As 
 yet, he scarcely dared implicitly to confide in his own genius. 
 He was fearful of opening the door of his will to his musical 
 skepticism. Faint-hearted and timid, he was afraid to declare 
 himself the antagonist of the recognized maestro, who had so 
 long worn the Triple Crown in the realms of music — the 
 Swan of Pesaro, Rossini. Previously to this, he had even 
 crawled on his knees up the stony staircase (I am obliged to 
 use the adjective, although it is inapplicable, for the purpose 
 of identifying my simile) of Italian melody. 
 
 In his " Huguenots," he has, however, at length acquired 
 courage. In this Opera, and more especially in the fourth 
 Act of " Le Prophete," he gives a free rein to his imagina- 
 tion. He here expresses his musical convictions openly, and 
 hurls his indignant protest against the abuses which had been 
 tolerated and fostered by the Operatic genius of modern Italy. 
 In the " Huguenots," he purifies the Lyric Drama from the 
 sensuality which had been gradually debasing the character 
 of Italian music. The evident frivolity which had so long 
 been creeping upon the Italian composers, was fearlessly 
 eschewed. No listener is there but must admire the novelty 
 of the form, while he is impressed with the truth of expres- 
 sion, the melodic beauty, and the severe yet picturesque 
 power exhibited by him, more especially in the fourth Act 
 of either of these Operas. Indeed, the effect of the produc- 
 tion of the "Huguenots," (which preceded that of the 
 " Prophete") was immense. Meyerbeer at once strode into 
 his right position. He made proselytes and he gained parti- 
 sans, on every side. Nearly every succeeding composer has 
 trodden more or less in his foot-prints. Even in Italy, estab- 
 lished maestri such as Donizetti and Verdi have bent to his 
 teaching, and in their Operas of " La Favorita," " Don Se- 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 211 
 
 bastian," "Nabuco" and the "Vepres Siciliennes," have 
 given in their adhesion to his dogmas. By this fact alone, 
 the irresistible influence which his writings have had upon 
 public opinion may be considered amply proven. 
 
 Rossini, although apparently indifferent, feels that he has 
 lost a portion of that almost universal musical dominion 
 which he once had. Occasionally," he shows his anger, by 
 sarcastic remarks upon the leader of the reform movement 
 in music, and his principal disciples. 
 
 Thus, one morning, when in Paris, a wandering organ- 
 grinder accidentally played the tune of a romance from 
 Halevy's " Guido and Ginevra," under his windows. Rossini 
 summoned the luckless boy into his chamber, and catching 
 hold of and shaking him, exclaimed — 
 
 " What do you mean by this, you little rascal ?" 
 
 " Signor !" exclaims the unfortunately small malefactor, 
 "don't beat me!" 
 
 " Have you not been paid, to play that infernal charivari 
 under my windows ? Answer, little whelp ! and at once." 
 
 The boy swore, by all his Italian gods, that this was not 
 the case. 
 
 " You lie ! Confess, who sent you here to dose me with all 
 this horrid music." 
 
 " No one, Signor !" 
 
 But the frantic Rossini was not to be persuaded that the 
 infliction was not an intended foretaste of the pleasures of 
 Purgatory. At length, he gave two napoleons to the street- 
 musician, who opened his eyes when his fingers touched the 
 gold. 
 
 " Here ! take these," he said. " Order for your organ a 
 new barrel, with an aria from ' Tancredi.' Then, go and 
 play it sixty times under the windows of' M. Halevy. Do 
 you understand • me ? Sixty times !" 
 
212 KEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 " Yes, Signor !" stammered the boy. 
 
 " It may be, that, afterwards, he will learn how to write 
 music !" 
 
 Again, when he last year arrived in Paris, from Italy, an 
 old friend inquired of him whether he had yet heard Meyer- 
 beer's " Prophete." 
 
 " Yes !" he replied ; " in Florence." 
 
 " Indeed !" answered his interlocutor. " And how da you 
 like it?" 
 
 " Well !" said Rossini. 
 
 " I am delighted to hear our greatest composer say so." 
 
 " You know, they have ' cut ' the Opera confoundedly in 
 Florence.'' 
 
 "Ah! have they?" 
 
 " Yes ! and it may be presumed, that by mistake they cut 
 out the best portions of it. Consequently, I like it by a 
 pure effort of faith." 
 
 Such remarks as these, although witty and spirited, in my 
 opinion do little honor to such a giant, as all musicians 
 must admit Rossini to have been. 
 
 But, my dear Balfe, I can imagine what has been passing 
 through your mind, while you have been reading the last few 
 pages of my letter. You naturally say — " What the deuce 
 is Maretzek talking about ? Does the man think that I have 
 never heard of Rossini, or that Meyerbeer is a complete 
 novelty to me ? I want to hear about his own adventures in 
 America. Facts respecting the American love of art would 
 be worth more to me than a tome-full of critical disquisition, 
 which I can manufacture myself a deuced deal better than he 
 does." 
 
 All this is candidly granted by me, my good friend ! 
 
 Simply have I wished to show you, that, in America, wc. 
 appreciate the recent revolution in music as thoroughly as 
 
OPEBA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 213 
 
 you do in Europe. If I have done this, I am contented. It 
 will prove to you that, in visiting these shores, you will 
 become acquainted with no tribe of savage Indians, but with 
 a race as, or more generally polished, than any portion of the 
 inhabitants of Europe — a race who will value you by your 
 own merits, and unhesitatingly accord you that rank, as a 
 composer, which you so worthily hold in the Old World. 
 
 'Before, however, this letter can be closed, I have to in- 
 form you of the termination of the season at the Astor Place 
 Opera House, after the success of " Koberto il Diavolo," and 
 the defeat of the " Artists' Union Italian Opera Company." 
 
 After the losses which I had sustained previously in Castle 
 Garden, (a misnomer, for which there was somewhat more 
 justification than that to which I have earlier alluded,) the 
 unfortunate surrender of a portion of my company tempora- 
 rily to the Catherine Hayes management, and the money 
 sunk upon, or in the " splendid triumph " achieved by me in 
 the production of " Eobert le Diable," it will scarcely be as- 
 tonishing to you, to hear that my means and credit were 
 alike utterly exhausted. The enemy had been beaten well 
 and thoroughly, but the defeat had ruined the victor. Two 
 weeks after they had ingloriously fled from New York, I was 
 obliged to succumb. Bled to the last drop in my veins, (I, 
 of course, allude to my purse and my pocket,) the doors of 
 the Astor Place Opera House were closed upon the public. 
 It was my determination to woo the fickle goddess, Fortune, 
 elsewhere. Possibly, her blinded eyes might not recognize 
 her old adorer, and she might even yet bestow upon me a few 
 of her faithless smiles. 
 
 Again, however, after my departure, was the Opera House 
 leased. But to whom, do you imagine, it was now abandoned- 
 by the exemplary wisdom of its proprietors ? 
 
 To the identical William Niblo who had fostered and en- 
 
214 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 couraged the opposition — the same William Niblo who had a 
 theatre (or let me give it his name, and call it — a Garden) 
 within the length of some three stone-throws from their own 
 House. It must be granted they did not foresee that which 
 was about to happen. But this will scarcely palliate the 
 folly of taking the head of a rival establishment for their 
 tenant. 
 
 This gentleman engaged the troupe of dogs and monkeys, 
 then in this country, under the charge of a certain Signor 
 Donetti. 
 
 Their dramatic performances were offered to the refined 
 and intelligent proprietors and patrons of this classic and 
 exclusive place of amusement. Naturally, they pretested. 
 It was in vain. Then, they sued out an injunction against 
 this exhibition, on the ground that in Niblo's lease of the 
 premises, only respectable performances were permitted to 
 be given in the Opera House. On the " hearing to show 
 cause " for this injunction, Mr. Niblo called up Donetti, 
 or some of his friends, who testified that his aforesaid 
 dogs and monkeys had, in their younger days, appeared 
 before princes and princesses, and kings and queens. More- 
 over, witnesses were called, who declared, under oath, that 
 .the previously mentioned dogs and monkeys behaved behind 
 the scenes more quietly and respectably than many Italian 
 singers. This fact I feel that I am not called upon to dispute ; 
 while you will naturally regard yourself, my good friend, as 
 not required to express any opinion upon such testimony. As 
 might be supposed, the injunction was dissolved. 
 
 As a matter of mere course, the House lost all its prestige 
 in the eyes of the community. Shortly afterwards, its con- 
 tents were sold, and the shell of the Opera was turned into a 
 library. Its death-blow had been given it as a place for 
 theatrical amusement, by the astute Mr. William Niblo 
 
OPEEA MANAGER IN 'AMERICA. 215 
 
 To me, I may candidly confess that this was a matter of 
 satisfaction. 
 
 It had been unable to sustain itself before I had become 
 its lessee. During the three years of my lease, it had flou- 
 rished and paid its proprietors an even large rental. It fell 
 entirely and ingloriously, a few months after the period at 
 which I had bidden it a final farewell. 
 
 Had the proprietors entertained any other view than that 
 dictated to them by the meanest pecuniary interest, it might 
 at present have been the most fashionable theatre in New 
 York. As such a theatre, it could not but have paid them a 
 handsome interest on its value. 
 
 Soon after the fall of this House from its position as the 
 only operatic establishment in the city, another party of gen- 
 tlemen took out a charter for the building of the Academy 
 of Music. Having obtained it, they went to work and con- 
 structed the new Opera House. It was subsequent to my 
 return from Mexico, where I had been absent nearly one 
 year, that I, one morning, met William Niblo. His opi- 
 nion respecting the future Academy of Music was asked by 
 me. 
 
 " Why — " answered the cunning Manager, with his usual 
 nasal voice — " I suppose, I shall have again to engage Do- 
 netti's dogs and monkeys." 
 
 Trusting that I have not wearied you, believe me, my 
 dear Balfe, 
 
 As formerly, entirely yours. 
 
 M. M. 
 
SIXTH LETTER. 
 
 TO FREDERIC GYE, ESQ., LONDON. 
 
 Mexico — Opera and Bull-Fights — Mexican Notions — Mexican Law and 
 Justice — A Mexican Prima Donna — Mexican Revolutions — A Mexi- 
 can Secretary of State in want of money — A Forced Loan — Mexican 
 Robbers — Puebla — Vera Cruz — Incidents, Accidents, and Adven- 
 tures. 
 
 10 
 
OPERA. MANAGER IN AMERICA. 219 
 
 LETTER VI. 
 
 TO FREDERICK GYE, 
 {Manager of the Royal Italian Opera, Covent Garden, London.) 
 
 New York, September 18th, 1855. 
 Dear Sir: — 
 
 Allow me to hope that, after a lapse of seven years, you 
 may have forgotten my neglect to send you those composi- 
 tions you had engaged from my pen, previous to my depart- 
 ure from London. Should you be inclined to read the first 
 letter in the present volume, originally intended for Berlioz, 
 although afterwards put through the mental mill for the gen- 
 eral reader, you will see how it was that I failed to fulfil 
 my engagement. Mixed up, during my first year in New 
 York, with all the "miseries and mysteries" of Operatic 
 management, you will comprehend that I had neither the time 
 nor the inclination for composition. 
 
 You too have known what a life " behind the scenes" really 
 is. Consequently, I feel assured of your sympathies. 
 
 In addition to this, my dear sir, I never really believed 
 that you cared one straw about these compositions, or at all 
 valued my talents as a composer, until we chanced to meet, 
 once more, some two years ago. Then, to my astonishment, 
 
220 REVELATIONS OF' AN 
 
 the reproaches which you addressed me showed that you had 
 actually reckoned upon the fulfilment of my engagement. 
 
 However, you may easily console yourself for the non-re- 
 ception of my insignificant labors. Since that period, you 
 have dealt with greater maestri than I could pretend to be. 
 You have produced far better and more profound composi- 
 tions than any which I might perchance have sent you, and 
 can enjoy the credit of having saved and restored by your 
 energy, skill, and perseverance, Italian Opera in London. 
 The smothering ashes of past failure which were about to 
 crush that institution, you have swept away, and having 
 located it in a new temple, have toiled at its perpetuation 
 with, I trust, an ample reward for your labors in its present 
 success. 
 
 You may remember that at my last visit to London, after 
 having somewhat appeased your wrath touching my breach 
 of promise, the question was put to you by me, whether you 
 might not be inclined to send, during the winter months, 
 (when the Royal Italian Opera is closed) your company 
 across the Atlantic. In this way, you could have kept your 
 artists employed the whole year, and might have made a per- 
 sonal experience of this continent. 
 
 At the time, you did not seem altogether indisposed to lis- 
 ten to this suggestion. 
 
 At length, you told me, that in the event of my getting up 
 for you a subscription of £30,000 ($150,000), I might write 
 to you, and that you would be willing to try the experiment. 
 In the event of my being able to do so, you would see a rea- 
 sonable chance of making a similar or even larger amount 
 from the nightly receipts. 
 
 You must excuse me, my dear sir, for publishing the gist 
 of our conversation. My reason for doing so is, that your 
 (in my opinion, just) expectations and demands may tend to 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 221 
 
 the edification of the operatic proprietors, stockholders, and 
 subscribers in this city, who demand nothing less than such 
 an operatic troupe as yours is in Covent Garden, yet refuse 
 even the presumptive price of two dollars a seat, and would 
 start back in utter horror at the idea of paying five dollars 
 (something less than one guinea, the price of seats in your 
 stalls) for the pleasure of hearing them. 
 
 It is, at the same time, my intention to give you in this 
 letter a brief sketch of my operatic campaign in Mexico, the 
 capital of which country is farther from New York, by the 
 ordinary route, than it is from this city to London. 
 
 Through my doing so, you may possibly gain a more just 
 idea of the manner in which musical speculations are managed 
 in the New World. 
 
 In February, 1852, was it, that I had vanquished the Ital- 
 ian Operatic opposition at Niblo's Garden, and was left ap- 
 parently defunct upon the battle-ground. Both companies 
 were then unoccupied. Both were still actuated by a purely 
 Italian jealousy of each other ; while either party feared the 
 engagement of the opposing one by Don Francisco Marty y 
 Torrens, for the purpose of sending it to New Orleans, Mex- 
 ico and Havana. Now, a precisely, or very nearly similar 
 project, had been running for several months in my own 
 brain — for I believe it is admitted that we all carry some por- 
 tion of this article in the interior of our skulls. Although 
 almost penniless, or let me say, centless, as it will be a much 
 more expressive Americanism, I had been constantly work- 
 ing to outflank Marty or his agents. My object was to carry 
 that portion of the company which had remained faithful to 
 my fortunes, to Mexico, where I felt confident that it must 
 make money. My confidence was based on the fact that the 
 land of the Caciques was literally untrodden ground. In fact, 
 Mexico was an almost purely virgin soil for Opera. Reflect- 
 
222 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 ing upon this, I came to the conclusion that it would be de- 
 cidedly advisable to attempt visiting that country. The me- 
 mories of Cortez rose upon me. With what means did he 
 attempt his raid upon the temples and treasures of Monte- 
 zuma ? "With a like abundance of the sinews of war, would 
 I attempt to recruit my purse in Mexico. Accordingly, I 
 proposed to the late artists of my company to take the risk 
 of accompanying me there, pointing out to them that should 
 we arrive the first, the " Artists' Union Italian Opera Com- 
 pany" would not dare to repeat the trial of an opposition to 
 our attractions. 
 
 They at once accepted. Their acceptance was, however, 
 clogged with the proviso that I should bear all the travelling 
 expenses, and should increase their salaries some sixty -per cent. 
 
 They had evidently, in spite of my recent failures, full 
 confidence in my skill as a Manager. My pecuniary position 
 was not unknown to them, yet they still had faith in my abil- 
 ities to overbalance the weight which had recently ruined me. 
 Nevertheless, they intended, in the event of a great success, 
 to make the best they could out of me. On the other hand, 
 I reasoned with myself thus : Once out of New Orleans and 
 in Mexico, should my success not be so brilliant as to justify 
 me in paying these increased salaries, they would become in- 
 finitely more tractable, and we should be enabled to make far 
 easier and more liberal arrangements together. Therefore, 
 I consented to this portion of their proposition. Moreover, I 
 agreed to pay all their travelling expenses and hotel bills, 
 provided they -would sing a few times in New Orleans and 
 Vera Cruz, to remunerate me. This they acceded to. Con- 
 sequently, having settled these preliminaries, I went round to 
 some of my friends, and borrowed sufficient money to send 
 an agent in advance to Mexico. He had orders to engage 
 a Chorus and Orchestra, to take the Opera House or theatre 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 223 
 
 in that city, and to make all the preliminary arrangements 
 which upon his arrival he might consider necessary. 
 
 After having done this, I then sold out, or mortgaged the 
 remainder of my theatrical properties. By this means, I 
 procured barely enough to send the entire company out of 
 New York, on one fine spring morning, en route for New 
 Orleans ; none of the " Artists' Union Italian' Opera Com- 
 pany," I may be permitted to observe, putting the slightest 
 faith in what they had heard of my arrangements, or believ- 
 ing in the possibility of my " insanity." Such they chose to 
 designate my attempt to carry to Mexico the troupe with 
 which I had defeated their opposition. 
 
 The artists had been placed under the charge of my bro- 
 ther, Albert. They were to travel by the Ohio and Mississipi 
 route, and he had instructions to give a concert, either in 
 Cincinnati or Louisville, in case ef necessity. 
 
 Myself and Madame Maretzek started some few days later. 
 We took our line of travel through Charleston and Mobile. 
 
 After having thus provided for the travelling expenses of 
 the members of the company, as far as New Orleans, and 
 paying for the tickets of myself and my wife to the same des- 
 tination, I found myself in the possession of the enormous 
 capital of $54 on quitting New York. 
 
 It appears to me, my dear sir, that you must allow my 
 faith in my " star" to be fully as great as that which Napoleon 
 evinced in his. t 
 
 This was the whole amount, with which in my possession, 
 I undertook the task of carrying my artists from New Orleans 
 to Mexico. With this prodigious capital, I was to open an 
 Opera House, and carry on business in that city. To me, it 
 was an entirely novel ground. Therefore, partially was it, 
 that I relied on my capacity to do so. Confiding in the 
 talents of my artists and my own luck, I travelled to the 
 
224 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 " Crescent City,'' rejoicing in the idea of having once more 
 completely outwitted the opposing coalition. I say "com- 
 pletely outwitted," for in this half of the world, the first at- 
 tempt in any line of business is the only one that is certain 
 to pay, and my determination to visit Mexico may be regard- 
 ed as the first in which any good Operatic company really 
 visited that capital. Therefore, to me, it appeared certain 
 that I should gather the first-fruits of Mexican love for 
 Operatic Music. 
 
 We all met at New Orleans, in good condition and good 
 spirits. But Albert told me that he had been already obliged 
 to give two concerts upon his road thither. The reason for 
 this was, that the artists, feeling freed from the rivalry of 
 their opponents, had again abandoned themselves to their old 
 habits, whims and caprices. Having full faith in my ability 
 to conduct their present campaign to a successful issue, they 
 began again to live as if all the silver mines in Mexico had 
 already been the property of their Manager. Instead of 
 eighteen persons, moreover, the troupe had swollen to twenty- 
 seven. Every prima donna having found the necessity of 
 bringing with her, her aunt, sister, grandmamma, or her 
 protector, without counting her lag-dogs or her parrots ; and 
 each tenor carrying with him his protegee and his servant. 
 
 A similar style of living was continued in New Orleans. 
 No representations on my part could induce them to abandon 
 it One complained about the rooms, and insisted upon 
 having a private parlor. Another objected to the wine pro- 
 cured at the St. Louis Hotel, and requested me to perform 
 the duties of his butler, or improvise him a wine-merchant. 
 A third had the hiring of carriages and the furnishing of 
 goods inserted in her bill, while a fourth astonished me with 
 an exorbitant item for soupes fins, which I was expected to 
 settle. In short, they all lived in a style which it is sin- 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 225 
 
 gularly unusual for an Italian artist to do, when he or she has 
 any suspicion that it will have to be paid for, out of his or her 
 own pocket. As a necessary consequence, the receipts at 
 New Orleans were insufficient to carry us on to Vera Cruz. 
 Nor only this, but they actually fell short, by several hundred 
 dollars, of the sum necessary for hotel expenses. 
 
 Many persons would, on finding this agreeable result of a 
 management which necessarily subjected them to such con- 
 duct, have backed out of their position. Mine was not at all 
 enviable. Xou must observe, my dear sir, that not only did 
 my sanguine nature paint to me a brilliant success in Mexico, 
 but my ingrained modesty prevented me from being willing 
 to return to New York, and affording my enemies a reason- 
 able chance for laughing at me. Hence, whatever my diffi- 
 culties' might be, two chains linked me to the oar at which I 
 was pulling, the one of which my natural obstinacy persisted 
 in believing to be a silver fetter. 
 
 As I was sitting, o'ne evening, ruminating upon my posi- 
 tion and the posture which my affairs were gradually taking, 
 a happy thought suggested itself to my mind. It was, as I 
 must confess, a desperate chance which presented itself. 
 But the beggars of Fortune's favors have no right to be 
 choosers. At the present, let me own that I regard this idea, 
 if I may say so without profanity, in the light of an inspira- 
 tion. I had heard that the principal of a Mexican banking 
 house was residing in New Orleans. This gentleman, I had 
 never been introduced to. Nay ! I had never even seen him. 
 Nevertheless, it was to him that I determined upon apply- 
 ing. Accordingly, upon the next morning, I paid him a 
 visit. Let me own that it was after spending an hour in 
 screwing up my courage to the sticking point, that I was 
 enabled to find enough to place my hat upon my head and 
 draw on my gloves for the purpose of doing so. 
 10* 
 
226 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 After sending in my card, the Senor Martinez del Campo 
 received me in his private office. 
 
 Here, he at once expressed his satisfaction with the troupe, 
 which he had attended on every evening of performance in 
 New Orleans. He did more. He predicted to me a glorious 
 season in Mexico. 
 
 It was, I fear me, in very common-place terms that I 
 acknowledged his compliments. All my courage seemed 
 .oozing out beneath my finger-nails. Not a word could I 
 summon to my lips, to speak about the real object of my 
 visit. 
 
 He at last hinted, thttt as I was going to visit Mexico, I, 
 in all probability, wished for some letters of recommendation 
 from him. 
 
 Somewhat encouraged by his apparent amiability, I, at 
 length, managed to say, that — 
 
 " While I should be truly grateful for any letters of re- 
 commendation he might give me, I had really come to ask 
 him to accommodate me with" — my heart, leapt into my 
 mouth, as I said this — " money !" 
 
 " Money !" he exclaimed. 
 
 The word which had so humbly escaped my lips, was 
 blurted out by him in that rough and hard tone which is so 
 peculiar to bankers and brokers, and so very remarkably 
 unpleasant to a poor devil of a threadbare musician. 
 
 A sensation marvellously like fainting came over me, as I 
 noted the change in his voice. But as I involuntarily, for a 
 second, closed my eyes, pictured upon their retina I saw the 
 malicious laughter of Badiali, and a quiet smile stealing over 
 the seraphic face of the gentle Bosio, who had been two of 
 the leading members of the " Artists' Union Italian Opera 
 Company." As these became visible, my courage again re- 
 turned to me. Opening my eyes, I said to him — 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 227 
 
 " I had supposed, sefior, that I should have made some- 
 what more money than I have actually done in New Or- 
 leans.'' 
 
 " Of course !" he muttered, in a contemptuous manner, that 
 left me but little hope. 
 
 " I am consequently short of funds." 
 
 An ironical smile here curved his upper lip. It seemed 
 to me as if he was about to say — " "What the deuce have I 
 to do with that ?" 
 
 In my agony, I continued — " If I write to New York, the 
 loss of time before I receive an answer will almost double 
 the sum which I need, as my expenses will still be running 
 on." 
 
 Here I paused, expecting some reply. This, however, 
 only came in the shape of a piercing glance which he shot at 
 me from beneath his half-closed eyelids. 
 
 " And as you yourself remarked to me, my company is 
 certain " — this I remember emphasizing very strongly — " of 
 a great success in Mexico, I would undertake to repay you, 
 although I could never' possibly repay your kindness, out of 
 my first receipts." 
 
 As I reached this point I again gave way, when he brusque- 
 ly exclaimed — 
 
 " I do not doubt you will." 
 
 Saying this, he arose and hurried out of the office. 
 
 This seemed to settle the business, and I had slowly arisen 
 from my seat and was just taking my hat up to place it upon 
 my head, when he again entered the room. 
 
 " Here ! M. Maretzek !" he said to me, as he placed a 
 paper in my hand — " is a check for $1,000, which you will 
 have to return to my brother-in-law the day after your opening 
 the box-book in Mexico ; and here" — saying this, he tendered 
 
228 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 to me a sealed letter — " are a few lines to the postmaster at 
 Vera Cruz." 
 
 I stammered as I attempted to thank him, but he would 
 hear nothing, and telling me I had already taken up too much 
 of his time (it was doubtless valuable, when a quarter of an 
 hour had been worth so much to me), bowed me in a remark- 
 ably curt manner out of his office. If I do not here tell 
 you how much I felt indebted to his liberal manner of doing 
 me this favor, believe me, that it is simply because I have 
 yet occasion to acknowledge his kindness. 
 
 On issuing from his office, I scarcely knew whether I was 
 standing on my head or my feet. How I reached my hotel, 
 it would be impossible for me to say. But for the passen- 
 gers in the street, I should have executed a pas seul expres- 
 sive of my intense delight. Fortunately, the memory of a 
 gentleman of genius, whom I had once seen accommodated 
 with a strait-waistcoat for gratifying himself in a similarly 
 innocent manner, restrained me from indulging in this fancy, 
 and I contrived to reach my temporary home without any 
 gross violation of public decency. Here, I paid all the bills 
 of my Company, and with the remaining $600 in my pocket, 
 was fortunate enough to secure and. charter a vessel for our 
 passage — there being, at this period, no regular line of 
 steamers or packets between New Orleans and Vera Cruz. 
 This was the brig America, commanded by Captain Maloney. 
 It was a small vessel, and could not have accommodated a 
 greater number of passengers than ours was. He had agreed 
 to charter it for $1,000, the half of which was payable in ad- 
 vance. Not caring, for the moment, how I might be able to 
 pay the second half, I handed him $500 — returned at once 
 to my hotel, gave notice to my vocalists to prepare themselves 
 for immediate embarkation, packed up the whole of my own 
 traps, and was on the following morning floating down through 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 229 
 
 one of the months of the Mississippi, on my way to Vera 
 Cruz. 
 
 We were seven days in the Gulf of Mexico. Let me own 
 to you, my dear sir, that there are periods in my life when I 
 recognize in myself a sad deficiency in the more Christian 
 virtues. 
 
 In a similarly un-Christianlike forgetfulness of the duties 
 of my love for my fellow-man, did I find myself, on the second 
 and third days of our voyage towards Mexico. Remem- 
 bering the position in which the regardlessness of expense on 
 my part, shown by my artists, had recently placed me, it was 
 with a demon-like delight that I noted their sufferings. 
 Every groan seemed an acknowledgment in the individual 
 person of the sufferer, of their shameless conduct. Each qualm 
 seemed a partial payment to me for their extravagance. The 
 ^&od of the Sea, old Neptune, seemed to have taken sides 
 with me, and to pay himself with the contents of their sto- 
 machs for the bleeding they had inflicted upon my pocket. 
 Woe is me! he was not contented with a legitimate ven- 
 geance. On the third night I retired to rest, and on the 
 fourth morning I did not rise. Most profoundly careless did 
 I feel whether we went at once to the bottom of the Gulf, or 
 whether we arrived at last at Vera Cruz.. For the time, 
 Opera and Operatic singers, the "Artists' Union Italian Opera 
 Company " and my own troupe, New York, New Orleans 
 and Mexico were alike indifferent. 
 
 All this indifference vanished, however, when on the 
 seventh day of our voyage we arrived at Vera Cruz. 
 
 Bushing on deck, I gazed longingly on the land of " Cabal- 
 leros " and " Leperos," " Senoras" and " Ninas," — on the 
 land of Revolutions and Earthquakes, the flowering Cactus 
 and the wondrously delicious (that is to say, provided you can 
 accustom yourself to it) drink called " Pulque.' 7 
 
230 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Feeling very much after the fashion of one of the 
 Spaniards who sought it in the olden time, the white walls 
 of the houses seemed glistening with gold and silver. 
 
 My hopes, however, were to arrive at the glittering pos- 
 session of the -precious metals in a more peaceful guise. In- 
 stead of swords and arquebuses, I had brought with me tenori 
 and soprani. Bassi and harytoni were my cannon. For my 
 glaive I carried a baton, and bore instead of a shield a music- 
 book. 
 
 On our arrival, the boats of the captain of the port and 
 the custom-house officers came out to meet us, filled with 
 ladies and gentlemen. They boarded our brig and told us 
 that my agent had announced our arrival, and that for the 
 last week every vessel which had been signalled from New 
 Orleans had been boarded in the same manner. This had 
 been done, that they might have the satisfaction of hailing 
 the arrival of the " great" Italian Opera Company, and also 
 of inducing us to consent to give one concert in Vera Cruz, 
 before we proceeded to Mexico. This was the very thing I 
 actually needed, and had intended doing. Diplomacy, how- 
 ever, had occasionally been taught me. Here, it would 
 decidedly benefit me. Therefore, I at once declined to 
 comply with their wishes. They, of course, became only the 
 more eager. After half an hour's warm entreaty, I appeared 
 to be a little touched by their arguments in favor of my 
 doing so, as well as flattered by the warmth of their recep- 
 tion, and told them that I would see them on the following 
 day at my hotel, where we might discuss the matter more 
 quietly, when I had partially recuperated myself from my 
 fatigue. At any rate, I gave them to understand, that my 
 sole dislike to perform in Vera Cruz arose from my intense 
 wish, first, to win for my company the suffrages of their 
 capital. This very evidently pleased them in one way, while 
 
OPEEA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 231 
 
 it afflicted them in another. They were delighted to imagine 
 that I did not consider success as a necessity amongst the 
 virtuosi of Mexico, while they all but wept over the possi- 
 bility of my leaving them without gratifying their wishes. 
 No sooner had I settled this, than we went on shore. 
 
 "When we arrived at the hotel (it was called the Posada 
 de las DiEgencias), I learned with great pleasure, that the 
 proprietor was no other than Don Fernando Grinda, the very 
 postmaster foV whom the Senor Martinez del Campo had 
 given me the letter of introduction. This letter I, conse- 
 quently, lost no time in presenting to him. 
 
 Not an hour had I been comfortably installed in my room 
 under his roof, when the worthy Captain Maloney, from the 
 brig America, paid me a visit. Until that moment I had 
 forgotten him, and what was of infinitely more importance, 
 the remaining half of the fare. A shadow of regret swept 
 over me that I had not burnt my vessel like Fernando 
 Cortez. But it passed from me, when I reflected that it 
 would have been necessary to have burnt Captain Maloney 
 along with it. He was much too good a fellow to have been 
 sacrificed as a bodily settlement of his claims upon me. 
 However, I had scarcely forty dollars in my purse, and, at 
 that moment, an exposure of the state of my finances would 
 have been utter ruin to me. What was I to do ? During 
 the time that elapsed between the announcement of his visit 
 and his entry into my chamber, I had space to reflect, but it 
 was very brief. My. determination was taken. Scarcely 
 had he entered, than I broke forth into a torrent of compli- 
 ments touching the gentlemanly manner and courtesy with 
 which he had treated us on board of the brig, and taking my 
 gold watch and chain from my own neck, begged him to 
 accept them as a slight token of my esteem and satisfaction. 
 
 The fine-hearted Yankee skipper was struck with amaze- 
 
232 EEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 ment, and while lie was looking alternately at me and at " the 
 slight token of my esteem and satisfaction," with his astonish- 
 ment painted on his face, I explained to him, that I must re- 
 quest him to call upon me in three days' time for the remaining 
 $500 due to him, as my only available means were letters 
 of change drawn at three days after sight. Of course, to 
 such a reason and such an expressive demonstration of grati- 
 tude, there could be no possible reply but one, from any man 
 with such a large heart as that which Captain Maloney had 
 seated in his bosom. He took the watch and chain, and left 
 my room with a profusion of thanks. 
 
 Almost immediately afterwards, he had proclaimed my 
 generosity in the parlor as well as in the office of the hotel. 
 
 This only contributed to increase the opinion entertained 
 by the public of Vera Cruz, of my independence of them. 
 Never was a watch and chain put out by any donor to better 
 interest. 
 
 Consequently, the ambassadors from the leading society 
 of Vera Cruz did not wait until the following morning to 
 renew their applications. The very same evening did they 
 wait upon me, and reiterated their entreaties that I would 
 suffer myself to be persuaded to give a concert in that city. 
 As the most natural excuse, I pleaded my want of time as 
 well as the absence of my agent, through which I had no 
 one with me to make the absolutely necessary arrangements 
 for such an entertainment. In addition to this, my ignorance 
 of the customs of the country, as well as the great expense 
 consequent upon lingering in Vera Cruz several days longer, 
 must very certainly render it almost an impossibility. 
 
 This " almost" was very skilfully introduced by me. They 
 saw that I was far from being completely inexorable. There- 
 fore they redoubled their entreaties, and, finally, I permitted 
 myself to be persuaded to gratify them. It was agreed 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 233 
 
 between us, that they should procure the house for the con- 
 cert (it was to be given in the theatre) ; that the printing, 
 advertising, and all other necessary expenses should be liqui- 
 dated, and that the clear sum of $1,200 should be guaran- 
 teed me. The concert was also to take place upon the fol- 
 lowing day. 
 
 It did so, and although I chronicle the fact myself, it 
 created an immense sensation. Every piece was encored, 
 and at the close the stipulated sum was placed in my hands. 
 
 With this money, on the following morning, I paid to 
 Captain Maloney the $500 which were still due to him. I 
 then went to the postmaster to order twenty-seven places 
 by the diligence to Mexico, and requested him to make out 
 the bills both for our board and travelling. He went to his 
 office and did so, after which he handed me the following 
 account. 
 
 " Don Max Maretzek to Don Fernando Grinda, 
 27 persons. Board from three to four 
 
 days, $10 each . . $270 
 
 27 persons, per diligence to Mexico . 1,350 
 
 60 trunks, the luggage of the party . 300 
 
 $1,920" 
 
 As I looked upon this bill, I was speechless. You might 
 have knocked me down with a feather. 
 
 The distance from Vera Cruz to Mexico is little more 
 than the distance from New York to Boston. Beckoning 
 the expese of travelling these few hundred miles at some 
 $5 or $6 per head, and admitting even $10 board for each 
 person, I had imagined that my $700 would have been 
 amply sufficient. It was impossible for me to have supposed 
 
234 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 that this expense could by any means have been swollen to 
 more than $60 per person and baggage. The non-existence 
 of railroads in Mexico had been suffered to slip from my 
 memory, and.until this occurrence, I knew not that the whole 
 of the stages or diligences in the Mexican Eepublic belong 
 by privilege to a single person. Having no concurrence, in 
 any form, to fear, this person is able to charge how and what 
 he will. As a necessary consequence, the three hundred 
 and fifty miles from Vera Cruz to Mexico cost nearly as 
 much as the whole of the travelling from New York to Vera 
 Cruz, which is by the ordinary route a distance of some- 
 thing more than 2,800 miles. 
 
 Gazing from the paper in my hand to the postmaster, and 
 from the postmaster to the paper on which these figures 
 were traced, my surprise rendered me literally incapable of 
 uttering a single word. 
 
 At length, Don Fernando broke the silence, by saying — 
 
 " In the letter which you brought me from the Sefior Mar- 
 tinez del Campo, he says, that as possibly it may be more 
 convenient (!)*to you to liquidate your travelling expenses 
 after your arrival in Mexico, he will guarantee the fulfilment 
 of your promise." 
 
 You, my dear sir, may imagine my astonishment better 
 than I can by any chance describe it. Not only had the 
 noble-hearted banker lent me the money to quit New Orleans, 
 but had actually, foreseeing my present necessities, without 
 a word extended his assistance to obviate them. This might 
 have been accounted for, had he previously been acquainted 
 with me. On the contrary, this assistance had been extended 
 to one who was a perfect stranger to him ; and must, very 
 certainly, always demand from me the warmest and most 
 thorough feeling of gratitude. 
 
 Turning to Don Fernando, I told him that I would take 
 
OPEEA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 235 
 
 advantage of his kindness and the Senor del Campo's letter, 
 by paying him a portion of his bill at present, and settling 
 the remainder of it in Mexico. Being perfectly satisfied 
 with this arrangement, I gave him $600 on account, while 
 for the remaining $1320 he drew up a promissory note and 
 handed it to me to sign. The date at which it came due, 
 was on the day after the opening of the box-hook. 
 
 Ifewas with a shudder that I attached my name to it, for 
 the»$1000 which. had v been lent me by the Senor Martinez 
 had to be paid upon the same day. 
 
 With a vigorous effort of njy will, however, all uffpleasant 
 reflections were for the moment discarded. At length, I was 
 tolerably certain to arrive in Mexico. 
 
 It will be unnecessary for me to describe to you the beauties 
 of the country through which we now travelled. This I 
 leave for any Bayard Taylor who may come after me. My 
 matter is business rather than loveliness, and it occurs to me 
 that in reading this letter, you rather require the detail of 
 events than the description of scenery. Therefore, I shall 
 not dwell upon the forests of orange-trees, arid the camps of 
 gigantic aloes by which we passed. Neither shall I compare 
 the snow-covered volcano of Orizaba, glistening in the morn- 
 ing sun, with an immense diamond of some 16,000 feet in 
 height. I shall not terrify you with highly colored descrip- 
 tions of Mexican banditti, nor endeavor to sketch for you a 
 Mexican hacienda, but shall simply state that we arrived, 
 after forty-eight hours of horrid travelling, in the town of 
 Puebla. This is a stopping-place where travellers generally 
 rest for the night, and is remarkable for containing a popula- 
 tion of some 60,000 inhabitants, of which it appeared to me 
 that nearly 10,000 were men, women and children, while the 
 remaining 50,000 were very evidently monks. 
 
 Here, I found three letters from my agent in Mexico. 
 
236 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 One of these requested me to give him due notice of my 
 arrival in Puebla, per telegraph ; to remain, then, the whole 
 of one day in that city, and again telegraph him the hour at 
 which I should leave it. By this means, he would not only 
 have one clear day to prepare a public reception for us, but 
 would be tolerably certain of the hour of our arrival. He 
 also informed me, that the aforesaid reception would be a 
 most imposing affair. A cavalcade of some two hundred 
 horses and their riders, with military bands and flying ban- 
 ners, &c. &c, were to take part in it. 
 
 Now, foreseeing very clearly that I should have to pay all 
 the expenses of the said reception, and counting over what 
 these would probably be in a country where it costs a man 
 . some $50 or $60 to travel three hundred and fifty miles, I 
 decided on not incurring them. Being also certain that my 
 invaluable agent had arranged to pocket a very decent per 
 centage on the gross amount of these expenses, and that 
 there could only be one way of evading his saddling me 
 with them, I determined upon adopting it. Therefore, I noti- 
 fied him, as he had desired, through telegraph of my arrival 
 in Puebla. As I said nothing about my departure, I reason- 
 ably concluded that he would imagine it was my intention to 
 comply with his wishes, as regarded the period of it. At the 
 same time, I ordered the horses to be attached to the dili- 
 gence a few hours before daybreak on the following morning. 
 By these means, I trusted, that in all probability we might 
 steal a march upon his arrangements. 
 
 The second letter contained the cheering intelligence that 
 he had already engaged an Orchestra, a Chorus, and a Ballet. 
 In addition to these, painters, carpenters, and printers, had 
 also been secured by his industry. 
 
 But, on examining the figures of these engagements, it be- 
 came very evident to me that my agent had acted either for 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 237 
 
 himself or for the persons engaged by him, or perchance for 
 both. My interests would appear to have formed, in his 
 mind, a purely secondary consideration. In short, to my 
 horror and dismay, I discovered that his arrangements alone 
 ■would run up my expenses, nightly, to considerably more than 
 $1000 ,(!) in addition to the heavy salaries of the members 
 of the company which I had brought on from New York with 
 me, and, of course, wholly exclusive of the rent of the Opera 
 House itself. 
 
 By the third letter, I was informed that he had taken the 
 Gran Teatro di Santa Anna. .„ 
 
 Its rent was $2400 per month, payable in advance. The 
 first month's rent was to be paid on the day after the opening 
 of the box-booh. 
 
 This was the coup de grace for me. Hitherto, I had be- 
 lieved in Mexico. But I had learned, already, that Operatic 
 or theatrical subscriptions were only taken for twelve nights 
 in that city, and were then renewed for another twelve nights. 
 Yet, out of the first subscription, were $1000 for the Sefior 
 Martinez del Campo in New Orleans — $1320 for Don Fer- 
 nando Grinda at Vera Cruz, and $2400 for the rent of the 
 Gran Teatro di Santa Anna — in all, amounting to $4720, to 
 be taken. 
 
 Whence were the other necessary expenses attendant upon 
 the opening of an Opera House to be drawn ? 
 
 How, if the amount of the subscription for the first twelve 
 nights should fall short of the sum absolutely requisite — 
 $4720? 
 
 In New York, a twelve nights' proportion of the fifty nights' 
 subscriptions never came near $4000. 
 
 What could I possibly do, should this be the case, in a 
 6trange country, without credit, name or friends ? 
 
 These questions haunted me through the whole night, 
 
238 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 which you may well believe was a sleepless one, in spite of 
 my previous forty-eight hours of travel in a diligence over the 
 most wretched roads you can imagine ; for I defy you to 
 have experienced any such in Europe. At any rate, it 
 was no use shrinking, now we had to proceed. On the 
 next morning, I accordingly rose, haggard and jaded by 
 the weariness of dread ; and on the evening of the same day 
 we arrived in the city of Mexico, to the great annoyance of 
 my agent, and the pecuniary loss of his hired circus-riders 
 and street-musicians. 
 
 Once, in the capital, I felt that regret was of no avail. 
 Energy alone could save me, if salvation were possible for an 
 Operatic Manager in such a situation as mine appeared to be. 
 
 Therefore, I at once sent a card to all of the newspapers, 
 in which I thanked the citizens of Mexico for the intention 
 they had expressed of giving me a public reception ; declaring 
 that I had managed to arrive a day anterior to that on which 
 I had been expected, expressly, as neither myself, nor any of 
 the artists who accompanied me, could think of accepting the 
 slightest testimony of distinction from the public, until we had 
 shown ourselves fully worthy of it. 
 
 This new style of advertising produced a more decided 
 effect upon the Mexican public, than any number of street- 
 parades could possibly have done. Advertising upon the 
 principle of a Raree-Show, had been invented in the Old 
 World. Upon this continent, it widened and developed itself 
 into grandeur — i. e., the grandeur of such a class of amuse- 
 ment. Under the inventive faculties of Fanny Ellsler's agent 
 was it born. With the speculator in Singing-Birds and Fire- 
 Annihilators, it had ripened into an acknowledged and openly 
 avowed faculty for " humbug." An artist — Henry Herz, had 
 himself carried it to Mexico. Judging merely from the ar- 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 239 
 
 rangements made by my agent, it had ripened considerably 
 since the period of his visit. 
 
 But, immediately below the above card, the following 
 advertisement also appeared : — 
 
 "Any person engaged by the agent of Don Max Maretzek 
 will have to present himself at the Gran Teatro di Santa 
 Anna, within forty-eight hours, for examination, as well as for the 
 ratification of his engagement." 
 
 The publication of this advertisement made my agent abso- 
 lutely furious. He threatened, begged, blustered, implored 
 and kicked up all kinds of rows. All this was of no use. 
 My determination was taken. My prospects, my reputation 
 as a Manager, and even my honor as a man of business, de- 
 pended absolutely* upon the manner in which I should com- 
 mence my season. 
 
 At first, the Choristers presented themselves, and to do 
 them justice, I must say, that a stranger looking set of indi- 
 viduals had never elsewhere placed themselves before me, 
 with the view of getting an engagement for Operatic pur- 
 poses. 
 
 All human races and colors were represented in this body 
 of vocalists. Not a shade nor a mixture of complexion from 
 white to ebony was there, which did not appear before 
 me. Every tone of color from pepper and salt to orange- 
 tawny could be discerned amongst them. As I gazed 
 upon them with a marvelling appreciation of their variety of 
 hue, I took the liberty of informing them, that their engage- 
 ments had been made at much too high a figure to suit my 
 pocket. What was my astonishment, when with a truly sin- 
 gular unanimity all of them declared their readiness to take 
 fifteen per cent, less, provided I made a new contract, and the 
 former one drawn up by my agent was declared void. 
 
240 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Nor was this the only abatement consented to by the local 
 members of my new company. 
 
 Painters, printers, door-keepers, carpenters, tailors and 
 copyists, also agreed to a similar diminutieji in their salaries, 
 under the same conditions. 
 
 This unanimity was so extraordinary that I was unable to 
 explain it to myself, until I at length saw the leader of the 
 Orchestra. He gave me an explanation which unriddled the 
 enigma. The name of this leader was Delgado. In spite 
 of his color (for he was a mulatto), he was an excellent violin. 
 ist, and a tolerably good leader. When he came into the 
 room where I received him, he had a white handkerchief tied 
 around his head and white kid gloves upon his hands. He 
 complained of head-ache ; and had powdered his face with 
 flour or pearlash. It was at once evident that he had been 
 attempting to whitewash himself, for this occasion. 
 
 Most ingenuously did I pity him for the head-ache with 
 which he was afflicted, seeming not to remark in the slightest 
 manner his voluntary transmutation of the tone of his complex- 
 ion. Then, I asked him to reduce the price of the Orchestra. 
 
 In the most naive and innocent manner possible he told me 
 that this would be impossible, unless, indeed, I should refuse 
 to accept the old engagement, and myself draw up another. 
 
 " How is that ?" I asked him. " I scarcely understand you." 
 
 " You see, Senor !" he replied, " as long as the engagement 
 which has already been drawn up between myself and your 
 agent exists, he takes fifteen per cent, from me and all the 
 other musicians who are members of the Orchestra." 
 
 " Oh ! upon my honor ! he does that — does he ?" I exclaimed. 
 
 The murder was, at last, out. Here was the secret of the 
 readiness I had already experienced from the members of 
 the local portion of my company, to abate this proportion of 
 their stipulated salary. 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 241 
 
 However, seeing the class of individual with whom I had 
 to do, I told him that the reduction of fifteen per cent, would 
 by no means be enough. At the same time, I administered 
 a small dose of flattery about his skill upon the violin, inform- 
 ing him that I had heard of it both in New York and Paris, 
 and asked him why he had never yet visited the United 
 States ? 
 
 " There," I said, " I feel certain that you would do ex- 
 ceedingly well." 
 
 " Oh ! I should be delighted to do so," was his reply ; " but — " 
 this he added in his usually naive style of .conversation — 
 " I feel frightened, lest they might take it into their heads to 
 sell me." 
 
 As he said this, he seemed to recover his recollection, and 
 his blood rushed into his face visibly beneath the pearl-pow- 
 der. Almost unable to preserve my countenance, by a great 
 effort I contrived to retain its immobility, and replied with 
 an admirable simulation of the most intense surprise — 
 
 " Sell you, my dear Delgado ! What nonsense ! Sell a 
 white (!) man in the United States ! Who or what could 
 have put that into your head ?" 
 
 This was too much for him. The idea of being taken for 
 a white man overpowered all resistance. The powder actu 
 ally seemed to redden with his pleasure. He immediately 
 lowered the figure of his demands several hundred dollars, 
 and a new engagement was drawn up and signed between us. 
 
 In this manner, I had cut down somewhat more than $2000 
 of my expenses per month, the largest portion of which would 
 have gone into the pockets of my invaluable agent. 
 
 However, with regard to the rent of the Opera House, I 
 could do nothing. The lessees of the Teatro di Santa Anna 
 had not been willing to sacrifice fifteen per cent, to my agent. 
 
 11 
 
242 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Therefore, they would abate me not one dollar. Neither was 
 I able to procure any alteration in the stipulated time for 
 payment. The first month's rent had to be paid on the day 
 followiny the opening of the box-booh. 
 
 The following Monday (May 11th, in 1852) was accord- 
 ingly announced as the day upon which the office of the the- 
 atre would be opened, to receive subscriptions for the first 
 period of twelve nights. 
 
 Feeling certain that the amount of these must fall far short 
 of the demands upon my treasurer for the following day, you, 
 my dear sir, may imagine how I felt. Looking towards it as 
 a convicted criminal looks upon the proximate gallows or 
 guilletine of his sentence, I longed intensely that the agony 
 might be over. Every minute seemed no more than an addi- 
 tion to my anguish. 
 
 Not even was the satisfaction given me, of shaping any idea 
 in my own mind respecting the taste of the Mexican public. 
 All the theatres in the capital of Mexico were at this time 
 closed. The Arena for Bull-fights alone contributed its ma- 
 terial interests to popular amusement. This was flourishing. 
 Having never before seen a bull-fight, and being even more 
 anxious to take a view of that public before whom I was 
 about to play the part of a musical matador, for one day I 
 determined upon ridding myself of mj doubt and dread ; and 
 upon the Sunday preceding the opening of the subscription- 
 list for the Opera, I mustered sufficient resolution to make 
 my appearance in the open amphitheatre where the bull-fights 
 took place. From 10,000 to 12,000 persons must have been 
 present. More than one-half of this immense gathering of 
 spectators was packed together upon the sunny side of the 
 arena (it is called " El Sol"), exposed to the scorching beams 
 of a Mexican sun, with no protection for their heads save 
 their sombreros and scarfs or mantles, waiting for the com- 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 243 
 
 mencement. On the opposite or shady side of the arena, 
 were boxes filled with elegantly dressed dames, and younger 
 females attended by their cavaliers. This immense attend- 
 ance at a place of amusement awoke some degree of hope in 
 my own bosom. But when, as I subsequently turned, almost 
 sickened out by the disgusting and barbarous spectacle ex- 
 hibited in the arena, towards the spectators, and remarked 
 the interest evinced by the better classes of society — both 
 male and female — in the bloody and brutal drama enacting 
 for their amusement ; when I saw that the infuriated bull 
 received far more encouragement than the toreadores or ma- 
 tadores who were endangering their lives to gratify that pub- 
 lic ; when I listened to the thunders of enthusiasm, and saw 
 the waving of handkerchiefs bestowed upon the maddened 
 beast whenever he killed a horse or wounded a man ; and 
 when I heard the groaning and hissing of that enormous mul- 
 titude, when a toreador or bandillero missed his stroke at the 
 bull, and thereby endangered his own life, let me own that I 
 fled from the amphitheatre, disgusted and hopeless. Never 
 could I have believed that in a city where such an exhibition 
 could be sustained and patronized, sufficient taste could exist 
 to support an Italian Opera. 
 
 On the next morning, therefore, I did not dare appear in 
 the box-office myself. My brother was sent there, with the 
 treasurer and his assistants, while I quitted the city and re- 
 paired to the Park surrounding the Castle of Chapultepec, 
 that I might, were it at all possible to do so, for the time for- 
 get my miseries in the balmy air of the gorgeous Spring of 
 Mexico, and deaden my anticipations of their completion by 
 dreaming amid its beauties. 
 
 As I returned in the afternoon, by another road than that 
 which the driver had taken to leave the city in the morning, 
 he suddenly stopped the carriage. 
 
244 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 Turning round, he exclaimed, "Mira, V. Senor. Esto es el 
 arbol del Gortez." 
 
 As he said this, he pointed out an immense cedar tree to 
 me, and explained the story which was attached to its huge 
 and giant hulk. 
 
 When Cortez was driven out of Mexico by the Indians 
 with great slaughter,- it is said that he paused in his retreat 
 under this tree. Here, burying his face in his mantle, he 
 wept long and bitterly. But, added the driver with a know- 
 ing look at my face, as if he partially divined the cause of 
 my gloom — 
 
 " Cortez again returned, stronger than he had before been, 
 and carried the City of the Islands by storm.'' 
 
 Alas ! thought I to myself, as I descended from the car- 
 riage and walked around the aged cedar, such will not be 
 my fate. I shall have no chance of running away from Mex- 
 ico. On the contrary, to-morrow will settle that question. 
 My creditors will detain me here for the non-payment of the 
 various sums due. to them. Nay ! more — I swore internally, 
 that in case I should by any chance get safe out of Mexico, 
 there should be marvellously small chance of my imitating 
 Cortez. Never again would I return to it upon a similar 
 speculation. 
 
 When, at length, on re-entering my hotel, my first inquiry 
 was about my brother, the domestics told me that he had not 
 yet returned. 
 
 Now, had his nerves been constructed upon anything the 
 same fashion as my own were, I might with much reason 
 have concluded that he had been so dismayed by the result 
 of the day, as to have made a slip-knot in his pocket-hand- 
 kerchief, and attempted to secure an undisturbed exit from 
 Mexico by means of strangulation. Knowing him, I however 
 felt comparatively easy upon this head. Scarcely anything 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 245 
 
 could possibly have disturbed the serene equanimity of his 
 endurance. 
 
 Nevertheless, my dear sir, I can assure you that my pulse 
 was jerking in an AUegro vivacissimo, while I felt the blood 
 from my heart flooding my veins at the rate of one hundred 
 and fifty beats per minute. 
 
 The waiter entered my chamber to inform me that dinner 
 was on the table. Allow me to say that this was a perfectly 
 useless attention upon his part. Very certainly was I unable, 
 had I attempted it, to have swallowed a single morsel of food 
 at this moment. 
 
 At length, steps were heard by me approaching the door 
 of my apartment. My ear recognized them as those of my 
 brother. 
 
 Swinging the door open to admit his remarkably leisurely 
 approach, I gazed upon his face in the hope of reading the 
 information of the day upon it. Imagination had painted to 
 me that quiet physiognomy distorted by the sufferings of want 
 of success. But you, my dear sir, may perchance remember 
 that my excellent Albert possesses one of those peculiarly 
 happy countenances which wo^uld appear to be totally unsus- 
 ceptible of change in its expression. Nothing is there in the 
 events of this life which could by any hazard derange its tran- 
 quillity. Whether he had your death-warrant carefully 
 stowed away in his breeches' pocket, or bore you the intelli- 
 gence of your having drawn a large prize in the lottery, my 
 belief certainly is, that his face could appear equally indif- 
 ferent to your sensations. As the door closed, therefore, I 
 exclaimed — ■ 
 
 " How was it, Albert?" 
 
 "Why! So! so!" 
 
 His tone was precisely that in which he might have replied 
 to a question put to him touching the state of the weather. 
 
246 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 " How much ?" I impetuously required from him. 
 
 "What?" he demanded. 
 
 " Why ! good Heavens ! The amount of the subscriptions," 
 I replied, stamping my foot impatiently. 
 
 " Oh ! That is what you want to know ? " 
 
 " To be sure it is !" I ejaculated, fast ripening into a rage. 
 " Will you answer me, Albert, or will you not ?" 
 
 " You may count it, yourself," was his phlegmatic reply. 
 
 As he said this, you may believe me, that his face betrayed 
 not one jot more expression than the head of a Chinese 
 Mandarin does that has been limned by a Chinese painter. 
 But my wrath, which had begun to boil over, was suddenly 
 checked by the appearance of a gigantic Indian bearing a 
 moderately-sized bag upon his shoulders, at the half-open 
 door through which my brother had entered the apartment. 
 
 Throwing it down upon the floor, I heard the agreeable 
 and harmonious chink of silver as he retired from the room 
 without uttering a word. 
 
 " One ! " said my brother. 
 
 A second Indian entered, and repeated precisely the same 
 operation. 
 
 "Two!" 
 
 Then came a third, who also deposited his sack of the pre- 
 cious metal upon the floor of the chamber, making it resound 
 with the same musical voice. 
 
 "Three!" was counted with singular equanimity by my 
 phlegmatic Albert. 
 
 " What does this mean ? " I asked. 
 
 " Four ! " said my brother, as a fourth bag chinked upon 
 the boards. 
 
 I stared in literal astonishment as another Indian entered 
 and deposited his contribution on the growing heap, while my 
 brother tranquilly reckoned — 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 247 
 
 "Five!" 
 
 Still they followed on each other like the shadowy descend- 
 ants of Banquo. Instead of a crown upon their heads, each 
 bore a sack of Mexican dollars upon his shoulders, and my 
 brother, unlike the "blood-boltered" progenitor of the shadowy 
 
 race, did not 
 
 " Smile on me 
 And point at them for his,'' 
 
 but quietly went on counting — " Six ! Seven ! Eight ! Nine ! 
 Ten! Eleven! Twelve! Thirteen! Fourteen! Fifteen! 
 Sixteen ! Seventeen ! " 
 
 As the last of the Indians quitted the apartment, doubting 
 the very evidence of my own eyes, I asked Albert — 
 
 " How much is there in each bag ? " 
 
 For the first time, the shadow of a smile seemed to flicker 
 over his features, as he answered — 
 
 " Make a bargain with me, and I will give you one thou- 
 sand dollars for the contents of each bag, without counting it." 
 
 Declining the bargain, I rung the bell, and at once ordered 
 a capital dinner. It was a singular instance of the corporeal 
 Philosophy of Life. No sooner was the weight of doubt 
 removed from my mind, than my stomach reminded me of 
 its share in my animal economy. It was very clear to me, 
 that, as yet, I had neither dined nor broken my fast upon this 
 day. 
 
 Such was the result of the opening of the box-booh for 
 subscriptions to the Opera. 
 
 From nine in the morning until five in the afternoon, the 
 Mexican public had subscribed more than $18,000 for only 
 twelve, nights of Opera. 
 
 Allow me to say, my dear sir, that I respect, honor, and 
 venerate the taste of the Mexican public for Operatic Music. 
 
 On the following morning, the immense amount of silver 
 
248 KEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 we had received so far enibrazened, or, it would probably be 
 better to say, emboldened me, that I repaired to the box- 
 office myself, and at 8 o'clock could hardly make my way 
 through the crowd of would-be subscribers who were stand- 
 ing round it. At 9 o'clock, however, the Chief of Police 
 inquired for me, and, on being admitted into the interior of 
 the office, handed me a written order from the Governor of 
 Mexico, not to receive any further subscriptions. This was 
 based upon the fact that there was reason to believe the 
 whole of the seats in the house might be taken by subscribers. 
 In this case, the remainder of the public who could not afford 
 a subscription for twelve nights, would be deprived of their 
 share in the entertainment offered to them. 
 
 Naturally enough, my American feelings were offended by 
 this order, and I asked what right the Governor had to inter- 
 meddle with my private affairs. 
 
 " Don Max Maretzek," replied the Chief of Police, very 
 gravely, " you will find that in the city of Mexico you will 
 always have to obey his orders." Saying this, he put him- 
 self in a dignified position, raised his hat, and with a sonorous 
 voice, ejaculated — " Dios e Libertad!" Then he replaced it 
 on his head, and continued — " Furthermore ! you will not 
 only have to obey his orders, but, even to anticipate them." 
 His hat was again removed to allow him to utter once more 
 — " Dios e Libertad! Moreover, let me inform you, that you 
 must not publish even a bill of your performances without 
 first forwarding it to his Excellency for inspection." Again 
 did " Dios e Libertad!" ring on my ears. "You will also 
 allow me to tell you, Don Max Maretzek, that you have neg- 
 lected to send his Excellency the four boxes on the first tier, 
 which are invariably retained for himself and the members 
 of the Ayuntamento. Dios e Libertad!" 
 
 Therefore, as it appeared, that in the name of " God and 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 249 
 
 Liberty," I should not be allowed to dispose of any more 
 subscription-tickets, I was obliged to communicate the order 
 of his Excellency the Governor of Mexico to the assembled 
 crowd. Immediately, they volunteered to pay for a second 
 subscription after the first twelve nights were terminated. I 
 was accordingly about to order my treasurer and his assist- 
 ants to comply with their wishes, when the Chief of Police 
 laid his hand upon my arm. 
 
 " Don Max Maretzek ! by the laws of this country, the 
 first subscriber has the right to retain his seats," he said, 
 " for the second and third months, if he chooses to do so. In 
 addition to which, due notice must invariably be given him, 
 three days before allowing any other persons to engage those 
 seats." 
 
 As he concluded this, off came his hat and out rolled the 
 inevitable " Dios e Idbertadl" 
 
 This second order appeared to me, as I must frankly con- 
 fess, somewhat inconsistent with the first injunction. That 
 protected the rights and amusements of the people, while this 
 gave certain exclusive and undeniable. privileges to the first- 
 comers. 
 
 At all events, it gave me a tolerably sound notion of the 
 contradictions of Mexican liberty. 
 
 The public, however, probably much better acquainted 
 with their own freedom than I was, quietly dispersed ; not, 
 however, without having left their names, with many requests 
 for the first chances, if any boxes should be left free during 
 the next month. Amongst these was the French Ambassador, 
 M. De Levasseur, who several times called upon me, and 
 expressly begged me to keep the first box for the following 
 month's subscription, which might not be retained by the pre- 
 sent subscribers, for himself. 
 
 Nothing could have passed over better, than did our first 
 11* 
 
250 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 twelve nights. The artists -were applauded — the subscribers 
 were delighted, and the public satisfied. After the tenth of 
 June, I accordingly announced a new subscription, giving 
 three days for reflection to the previous subscribers, and 
 stating in the papers and by posters, that those boxes which 
 were not retaken upon the third day subsequent to my ad- 
 vertisement, would be disposed of to those having the right 
 of pre-numeration in such a case. 
 
 The whole of the boxes, with one single exception, were 
 retaken upon the fourth day. This box had previously been 
 engaged by the banker, Rubio. 
 
 For one day more, I waited, and then, as the Senor Rubio 
 did not make his appearance, I offered it on the fifth day to 
 the French Ambassador, who immediately took it and paid 
 for it. The receipt for the cash was drawn up and handed 
 to him, together with the tickets and certificate for the box. 
 
 On the fifth day (the day previous to the commencement 
 of the second season) Senor Rubio sent his servant to me, to 
 inform me that he had decided upon retaining his box for 
 the following twelve nights. Even could I have given him 
 the box, this message was not accompanied with the amount 
 of the subscription. Most politely, therefore, did I send him 
 word, that I regretted not being able to comply with his 
 demand ; as, after having waited for four days, I had con- 
 ceived myself justified in allowing M. De Levasseur to 
 become my locataire. 
 
 With this, I had supposed the matter settled. But you 
 may judge of my astonishment, when some two hours later I 
 received a visit from a member of the Ayuntamento, who 
 also, with a singular regard for human economy, performed 
 the duties of a Sheriff. 
 
 " Senor Mmpresario !" he said, " you have been condemned 
 or fined to $100 penalty, or twenty-four hours prison, for 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 251 
 
 having let the box belonging to Senor Rubio to another per- 
 son." He wound up this announcement with the usual satirical 
 exclamation, accompanied by the raising of his hat, of — "Bios 
 e Lilertad!" 
 
 " What !" I exclaimed, "judged and condemned, on a 
 simple accusation ?" 
 
 " Yes, Senor !" 
 
 " Why, I have had no chance of defending myself. Con- 
 victed, before I had even received a summons ! Is this the 
 law in Mexico ?" 
 
 " The law in Mexico is that you must pay," he replied, 
 " or go to prison. Afterwards, you can _ make your appeal 
 against the fine or imprisonment." He, of course, ended with 
 the usual " Dios e Libertad!" 
 
 Not being inclined to resist this admirable judgment, I paid 
 the $100. At any rate, said I to myself, I now know at what 
 price I may let my boxes to whom I please. However, my 
 conclusion was not based upon the Codex of the Mexican 
 Republic. The first Sheriff had not quitted my apartment 
 more than half an hour, when a second Sheriff entered. This 
 one summoned me to appear next morning before the Jues 
 es Letteras, to show cause why I should not deliver up the 
 aforesaid box to the amiable Senor Rubio, or pay damages to 
 him. 
 
 " Can a man be convicted twice in Mexico, Senor Sheriff, 
 for the same offence ?" I inquired. 
 
 " That is not my business, Senor JSmpresario .'" was his 
 reply. 
 
 " Nevertheless," I persisted, " I should like to know wheth- 
 er a murderer or assassin can be garroted twice ?" 
 
 " All I have to tell you," he answered, " is, that you must 
 appear before the Juez es Letteras to-morrow morning at nine 
 o'clock" As usual, he concluded this information with the 
 
252 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 ordinary ejaculation, accompanied by a reverential lifting of 
 his hat, of the abominable formula, " Dios e Libertad .'" and 
 then took himself out of my presence. 
 
 Necessarily, I was obliged to go to a lawyer, and went to 
 one of the best in the Mexican capital. This was the Senor 
 Olaguibel, who was also a Senator for the city, in the Mexican 
 Congress. He, at once, declared that the complaint of Senor 
 Rubio was not tenable. Accordingly, I accompanied him on 
 the following morning, to plead our cause. 
 
 What was my astonishment, instead of going with him to 
 the Courts, to find myself at the door of the Judge's private 
 residence ! 
 
 " It is customary; Senor Max !" he observed, when I com- 
 mented on its singularity. 
 
 We were shown into the Judge's bed-room, where that 
 functionary was sitting up in bed in his night-dress and with 
 a silk night-cap on his bald head. It may be imagined that 
 I opened my eyes. Soon after, the counsel for the plaintiff 
 appeared. Coffee was handed round to us, after which the 
 Judge removed his silk night-cap and tucked it under his 
 pillow. Then offering us some cigaritos, he lit one himself, 
 reclined his head upon his pillow, and closed his eyes with an 
 appearance of the most profound resignation — saying — 
 
 " You can begin, Senores !" 
 
 But for the presence I was in, I must have laughed out- 
 right at that very presence. 
 
 The case then commenced. 
 
 Counsel for the plaintiff claimed the box, which had be- 
 longed for the last season of twelve nights to Senor Eubio, as 
 his, by right and privilege. 
 
 Counsel for the defendant appealed to the law of advertis- 
 ing the new season for three days — proved that such had 
 been done in the present case, and showed by my books, and 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 253 
 
 the date when the money was received from M. De Levas- 
 seur for the rent of the box, that I had not only forborne 
 letting it for three days, but for five. He also demonstrated, 
 that having let that box to M. De Levasseur and received 
 the money for it, I could have no right nor reason to require 
 him now to give it up. 
 
 As for the Judge, he, without opening his eyes until the case 
 was closed, made a gesture of assent to everything which my 
 counsel advanced. 
 
 When Senor Olaguibel had ended, he sate bolt upright in 
 bed, with his eyes wide open, offered me another cigarito, and 
 then and there delivered his judgment. 
 
 This was, that the aforesaid box belonged (!) to the Senor 
 Rubio, and must be delivered to him before the evening, or 
 that the Manager of the Gran Teatro di Santa Anna must 
 pay five hundred dollars damages. 
 
 Before I had a chance of giving any instructions to Senor 
 Olaguibel, he appealed to a higher Court in order to stay 
 judgment. On the same day, I was graciously informed that 
 until the decision of the case (which might possibly come in 
 six months or a year), the said higher Court had ordered 
 that the aforesaid box should be closed and unoccupied either 
 by its original owner, Senor Rubio, or its present owner, Senor 
 De Levasseur, or any other living person. The rescript, 
 which was handed to me, containing this order, terminated 
 with the usual formula. Need I say that this was " Dios e 
 IAbertad!" 
 
 When I went to M. De Levasseur and told him what had 
 happened, he informed me that he would force the door of 
 the box which he had paid for. 
 
 " I should like to see," he said, " who here will dare at- 
 tempt preventing the Minister of the French Republic from 
 entering his box." 
 
254 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 Entirely satisfied with his energetic determination, T re- 
 turned to my hotel with the design of awaiting the result. 
 
 In the evening, the Minister of France came to the Teatro 
 di Santa Anna. He found the door of his box nailed up, 
 and four men and a Corporal in the Mexican uniform, with 
 fixed bayonets, standing before it. 
 
 M. De Levasseur demanded that it should be opened, but 
 the Mexican Secretary of State for Foreign Affairs hap- 
 pened most opportunely to pass through the corridor, at this 
 very moment. With the most graceful bonhommie, he invited 
 the French Minister into the President's box, and begged him 
 by no means to interfere with the rights of Senor Eubio and 
 the laws of Mexico. Not having heard this, I am unable to 
 say whether he terminated his graceful little speech with the 
 customary — " Bios e Libertad ! " The informant who re- 
 tailed to me this scene was, although a foreigner, a lengthy 
 resident in the country. Probably he had grown so accus- 
 tomed to the phrase, that he did not notice it. 
 
 .On the following morning, M. De Levasseur, not being 
 willing to involve the French and Mexican nations in a bloody 
 war on account of an Opera-box, transferred all his right and 
 title in it to Senor Eubio. Thus was this complicated affair 
 settled. 
 
 Be not surprised, my dear sir, if, in recalling the incidents 
 of my operatic campaign in Mexico, I also am often tempted 
 to exclaim with the utmost enthusiasm — " Bios e Libertad /" 
 
 As another instance of Mexican law and Mexican justice, 
 I may mention, that as often as a vocalist got really, or ima- 
 ginarily, or wilfully sick, and necessitated a change in the per- 
 formance which had been announced for the evening, it was 
 the unfortunate Manager who was fined $100. In vain was 
 it, that I represented to the Governor of the State, and even 
 to the President of the Eepublic, His Excellency Senor 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 255 
 
 General Arista, that the guilty party was not the Manager. 
 In vain did I endeavor to make them understand, that if the 
 artist himself was the party who had to pay the fine, it was 
 more than probable that the artist would manage to avoid 
 getting sick, or at any rate so sick as to necessitate a change 
 of performance after the bills of the evening had been publish- 
 ed. The only answer which I received from them, was this — 
 
 " That the Representatives and the Senate of the Repub- 
 lic could alone modify or change the laws." 
 
 Nevertheless, I must exculpate the Republic of Mexico 
 from the charge of treating the artists altogether with an 
 unfair degree of leniency. As a proof of the fact that it 
 does not, allow me, my dear sir, to relate an incident which 
 happened towards the close of the second season's subscrip- 
 tion. 
 
 Signor Salvi had indulged in some of the usual flirtations 
 (which unindulged in, it would be impossible for an Italian 
 tenor to exist) in Mexico. Anxious to display his equestri- 
 anism before the eyes of his fair Senora, he purchased a horse, 
 and intended to exhibit himself in all his beauty and glory, 
 astride of it, in the Paseo. Unfortunately for me, he had not 
 displayed his equestrianism for more than two hundred yards, 
 when his Bucephalus (a remarkably quiet one, by-the-bye), 
 alarmed by the bright eyes and flirting fan of some passing 
 Senorita, started and reared. Unable to keep his seat, 
 Salvi fell from his steed and managed to break his arm. He 
 was immediately carried home, where the physician who was 
 c.lled in to him declared, that although there was not the 
 slightest danger, it would very certainly be six weeks at the 
 least before he could again appear upon the stage. With 
 this announcement, all my reasonable prospects of continuing 
 my campaign successfully, vanished ; for it cannot be denied 
 that Salvi was one of my leading attractions. At all events, I 
 
256 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 endeavored, as far as was in my power, to remedy this un- 
 foreseen misfortune for the time being. The Opera an- 
 nounced for the same evening was Donizetti's " La Favorita." 
 As I knew that Forti had repeatedly sung this part before, 
 and had even requested it from me, as a favor, I went to him 
 and asked him to be kind enough to undertake it. 
 
 Knowing that it would be utterly impossible for Salvi to 
 appear for several weeks, he believed that his time was ar- 
 rived. At any rate, he showed his inclination to vault into 
 the throne which had heretofore been occupied by that 
 tenor. 
 
 Point-blank, he refused to sing upon this evening. His 
 excuse was sickness. 
 
 But, as if determined to show me that this was not the 
 actual reason, and, at the same time, to demonstrate that if 
 not a better vocalist, he was at any rate a better rider than his 
 rival (if, indeed, Salvi could be called the rival of any tenor 
 who has been in this country, with the solitary exception of 
 Mario), he went on the very same evening, on horseback, to 
 the neighboring village of Tacubaya. 
 
 Going immediately to the Governor, I informed him of 
 what had happened. He chanced to be in a good-humor, 
 and permitted me to give a miscellaneous Concert on that 
 evening, instead of the Opera which had been announced, 
 without paying the customary fine of $100. In the mean 
 time, four soldiers with a Corporal, the usual Operatic quota, 
 were posted at the Gate of Mexico on the road to Tacubaya. 
 Instructions were given them to wait for the return of the 
 willing absentee from his Operatic duties, and to bring him as 
 soon as he entered the city before the Governor. 
 
 The concert took place during his absence, and I am 
 obliged to say that the audience, having heard of Salvi's 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 257 
 
 accident, bore Forti's absence with the most exemplary 
 equanimity. 
 
 During the whole night, the non-commissioned officer, with 
 his four men, waited for the refractory tenor. At about nine 
 o'clock on the following morning, he returned. He was in 
 high spirits touching the trick which he had played me, and 
 was humming, as I was afterwards told, one of the very airs 
 from " La Favorita " which he had so decidedly declined 
 singing. As he entered the city, the Corporal strode before 
 him. 
 
 " You are the Senor Forti ?" was the soldier's address to 
 the vocalist, as he laid his hand upon the bridle of his horse. 
 
 " Yes ! my good fellow, I am." 
 
 " Dismount, then." 
 
 " Bmv-" 
 
 " Dismount !" 
 
 " My dear sir, what on earth does this mean ?" 
 
 " Dismount !" 
 
 " Allow me to ask — " commenced the trembling tenor. 
 
 " Dismount !" repeated the Corporal, " or I shall be obliged 
 to make you." 
 
 The miserable Forti was compelled to obey the imperative 
 order addressed to him, by a man to whom, twelve hours 
 before, he would not have spoken a single word. 
 
 Then, he was placed between two of the soldiers, while the 
 two others led his horse between them. 
 
 " Dios e Libertad!" said the corporal reverently, but with- 
 out removing his shako, as, in obedience to his orders, they 
 began to march through the streets of Mexico towards the 
 Deputation, as the City Hall is there called. 
 
 When arrived there, the tenor was immediately carried 
 before the Governor. 
 
 What was my astonishment, on learning that without a 
 
258 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 trial, and even without a hearing, he was condemned to a 
 fortnight's imprisonment. 
 
 This order was at once carried into execution. Without 
 giving him time even to change his clothes, permitting him 
 to get clean linen, or to remove the spurs from his boots, he 
 was hurried off to the common jail. Here he was thrust 
 into the society of all the robbers, thieves, leperos, and other 
 scoundrels, who had incurred the notice of the Mexican law. 
 Delighted with bis company, these respectable gentlemen dis- 
 burdened bim in the first fifteen minutes that he spent 
 amongst them, of his watch and chain, money, rings, spurs, 
 cigar-box, pocket-handkerchief, riding-whip, gloves, and other 
 supernumerary articles as they conceived in such an esta- 
 blishment. 
 
 Now this was a just visitation, I will not deny, my dear 
 sir, upon Forti. 
 
 But you must observe that his punishment fell with double 
 weight upon my shoulders. Salvi, with his broken arm and 
 confined to his bed-room, might reasonably grumble. While 
 Forti in prison, and thrown among such company, was cer- 
 tainly to the full as much to be pitied. But the miserable 
 Manager appeared to me to stand in the least enviable 
 situation. He had by far the worst in the matter. They 
 could not sing, while he was unable to give Opera. Their 
 only answer was required by him, personally. His excuse 
 must be given to, as it was demanded by his subscribers. 
 
 Of course, we all visited the unfortunate Forti, bearing 
 with us tokens of affection as well as of our pity and con> 
 dolence. 
 
 One bore him a box of fragrant Havanas. Another con- 
 tributed a cold roast turkey to his creature comforts. This 
 one carried him a bottle of brandy, and that one sent him 
 half a dozen of Champagne. But, ere our interview with him 
 
OPEEA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 259 
 
 had terminated, these had all vanished. His associates in the 
 interior of the prison laughed at the sympathy of his friends 
 without the walls. They held the doctrine of a community 
 of property amongst the compulsory inhabitants of that en- 
 forced Republic (let me here exclaim " Dios e Libertad!") 
 and appropriated to themselves the larger proportion of these 
 gifts, as soon as he had received them. Some devoured the 
 turkey, and others drank the Champagne. These emptied 
 his bottle of brandy, and those made free with the cigars. 
 Nothing was left of them save the bones, the bottle, and the 
 box. It was in vain that a Pate de Foie gras was contri- 
 buted to the list of his imprisoned enjoyments. They had 
 .cleaned it out while his back was turned and he was talking 
 to his benefactor. Uselessly was a cold haunch of mutton 
 sent him. In ten minutes he could only contemplate the dish 
 upon which it had erewhile stood. 
 
 Meanwhile, pitying him and myself too, I, the miserable 
 Manager, had besieged the Governor with supplications for 
 his release. 
 
 With great exertion, the permission for the release of 
 Forti was obtained by me, on such evenings as his perform- 
 ance might be required. On these occasions, he was accom- 
 panied by four soldiers, who brought him to the theatre and 
 delivered him into my hands, half an hour or an hour before 
 the Opera commenced. At its conclusion, they marched him 
 again off to the jail. Pity for Forti, after this, gained fast 
 upon my feelings. Rehearsals were arranged, which neces- 
 sitated his presence, and he was kept out of his enforced 
 residence for the whole of the day. However, he had still 
 to sleep under lock and key. At length, upon the feth day, 
 by dint of the most unremitting exertions, I obtained from 
 the President himself the remission of the remainder of his 
 
260 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 term of imprisonment, or, rather, its commutation into a fine 
 of $100. 
 
 After this, Fbrti never afterwards missed a performance in 
 Mexico for sickness (!) or any other cause. 
 
 The second subscription was now drawing quickly to a 
 close, and Salvi was not expected to recover sufficiently to 
 appear before the scenes for some four weeks. Under such 
 circumstances, there was very little chance of getting up a 
 third subscription, as Forti was not relished as a primo tenore 
 by the public. 
 
 As I was meditating upon what means I could adopt, or 
 what I might invent for the purpose of raising a new excite- 
 ment or keeping up the old one, a friend and acquaint? 
 ance in Mexico, who was no other than the youngest 
 son of the unfortunate Liberator and Emperor, Iturbide, 
 entered my apartment. He requested me to accompany 
 him to hear a young lady sing, and give him my can- 
 did opinion respecting her talents. Now Don Augustino 
 Iturbide had in several instances shown himself a sincerely 
 attached friend to me, and, although pre-occupied with my own 
 affairs, I could not refuse "him. Therefore, I took my hat and 
 accompanied him. On our road, he informed me that this 
 lady was the daughter of a General who had fallen in "the 
 war of Liberation. The pension of his widow being by no 
 means regularly paid by the government, herself and her 
 daughters were occasionally reduced to extreme poverty. It 
 was consequently in the hope that my recommendation and 
 testimony as to her abilities might procure for the daughter 
 some situation as a church-vocalist, that he principally wished 
 me to hear her. 
 
 We arrived at the house of her mother, and I was intro- 
 duced by Senor Iturbide to his protegee. She was both young 
 and good-looking ; but, although her voice was a tolerable 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 261- 
 
 contralto, let me own that I was by no means satisfied with 
 her singing. 
 
 Nevertheless, the kindness which Iturbide had invariably 
 shown to myself, as well as the poverty of the family which he 
 had made known to me, induced me to promise to write her 
 a complimentary letter. This letter, when written, she might 
 use as she pleased. 
 
 But while occupied the next day in writing this epistle, 
 the idea struck me that it might be possible to turn her 
 vocalism to far better account for her necessities, while it 
 might prove of no small advantage to myself. You may call 
 it a stratagem, my dear sir, if you like ; but remember that 
 all stratagems are fair either in love, war, politics, or thea- 
 trical management. Has not Barnum speculated upon the 
 Feejee Mermaid, and did not your own Lumley bring out a 
 native contralto baptized as the Signora Favanti ? Eeflecting 
 upon these two instances of keen management, I jumped up 
 and paid another visit to the lady. She was at home, and I 
 was admitted to her room, where she was seated with her 
 mother, speculating on the probable advantages of my letter. 
 
 " Senorita," I said, " upon reflection, I have determined not 
 to write you that letter." 
 
 " Senor !" screeched out the mother. 
 
 " Senor !" ejaculated the daughter, in her two highest con- 
 tralto notes. " You cannot be so cruel ! " 
 
 "But, Senorita " 
 
 " Why did you promise it to me ? " 
 
 " Will you allow me to speak " 
 
 " It is unkind and ungentlemanly, Senor, in the extreme," 
 almost sobbed out the daughter. 
 
 " Let us hear what he has to say, to excuse such barbarous 
 conduct," said the mamma. 
 
 " Excuse it ! He never can." 
 
262 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 " To be sure lie can't. But I should like to hear him try 
 to do so." 
 
 " Very well ! Senoras, I will." 
 
 "Just listen to him. He will actually try to do so!" 
 moaned the young ladyw 
 
 Then, for a moment, both of them were silent. ■ Like a 
 skilful general, I seized on the opportunity to open my bat- 
 teries. 
 
 " Senora," I said, with an air of the most profound respect, 
 turning to the parent, " on thinking this matter over, I have 
 come to the conclusion that your daughter's great talents and 
 profound musical taste would be completely sacrificed, were 
 she condemned to execute nothing but church-musie.' ; 
 
 The daughter was partially mollified, and recovered her 
 self-possession as she listened to this delicately put bit of 
 flattery; but the unappeased mother was by no means so 
 easily satisfied. 
 
 " That may be all very well, Senor ; but what on earth is 
 she to do with them ? " 
 
 " Go upon the stage, Senora!" 
 
 Had a bomb-shell fallen through the window, between the 
 three of us, it could scarcely have produced a more astound- 
 ing effect than this piece of advice did. 
 
 " The stage ! " screamed the younger lady, springing to 
 her feet. " Never ! Senor." 
 
 " The stage ! " groaned the elder dame, sinking back in her 
 chair. " What would her deceased and much-respected pa- 
 rent, my lamented and never-enough-to-be-wepf>for husband 
 say, if he only heard this?" 
 
 "I am willing to offer her an engagement for two 
 months." 
 
 " For two months ! " repeated the mother. But I remarked 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 263 
 
 that the younger lady remained perfectly silent. This 
 gave me some hope. 
 " At $400 per month." 
 
 " $400 !" ejaculated the mother, looking at her daughter in 
 astonishment. 
 
 " To be paid in advance !" I said, taking out my pocket- 
 book. 
 
 The last shot told. 
 
 " Senor," modestly uttered the daughter, " I am totally un- 
 able to resist such astonishing liberality." 
 
 The treaty was, therefore, speedily concluded. Pen, ink 
 and paper being brought me, I drew up the duplicate con- 
 tracts, and handed them to the younger Senora to sign. Then 
 I signed them, myself. Handing her one of them, I drew a 
 blank order on the treasurer of the company out of my porte- 
 feuille, and filled it up for the sum which was stipulated. 
 This I passed to her. The crisp paper crackled in her white 
 little fingers, as she received the legibly filled draft. 
 
 " And now, Senorita, you must begin to work, and at once." 
 
 " I am ready, Senor ! " 
 
 " You yesterday sung to me some of the music belonging 
 to the role of Arsace,. in the ' Semiramide.' We will begin 
 with that." 
 
 " Senor, I am perfectly willing." 
 
 " When can you be ready ?" I inquired. 
 
 " In one week." 
 
 With a profound bow I took my leave, oemg convinced 
 that I had saved my next month's season from the danger 
 which had been threatening it. 
 
 Necessarily, Don Augustino Iturbide was informed of this 
 engagement. He was, however, requested to keep it secret 
 for a few days. In the meantime, the last evening of the 
 second subscription had arrived, but no programme for a third 
 
264 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 had been issued, and the indifference of the public was suffi- 
 ciently evidenced, in the fact, that no inquiries of any kind 
 had been made respecting it. It was, therefore, clear enough, 
 that this engagement had been the only chance left me, in 
 consequence of Salvi's unlucky mishap, for prolonging the 
 excitement which had previously existed with regard to the 
 Italian Opera. 
 
 My plan for the opening of the next month's campaign had 
 been silently and very carefully prepared. 
 
 Independently of Salvi, I had determined that the company 
 should make a pecuniary success. 
 
 Therefore, between the first and second Acts of the per- 
 formance on this evening, I caused the intelligence to be 
 circulated in the lobbies of the house, by a few of my Mexican 
 friends, that after two or three more " farewell" nights, it was 
 my intention with my whole company to quit Mexico. 
 
 This intelligence, at once, kindled something like regret in 
 the minds of those who had patronized the Opera. They felt 
 that with my quitting them, they would possibly lose for a 
 long period the chance of having any Operatic entertainment 
 in the Mexican capital. In consequence of this feeling, 
 several of the more distinguished subscribers came to me at 
 the close of the second Act, to inquire whether it would be 
 impossible for me to remain, could another month's subscrip- 
 tion be arranged for me. Naturally, I, by no means, told 
 them that it was my intention to do so, in any case. A cir- 
 cular had already been printed by my orders, which was dis- 
 tributed throughout the boxes and every part of the theatre, 
 during the interval which passed between the third and fourth 
 Acts of the Opera. This circular contained an invitation to 
 the subscribers to come upon the next evening, and " attend 
 an Extraordinary Grand Performance, gratuitously given to 
 them, as, after their great liberality, the Manager was un- 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 265 
 
 willing to reckon the Miscellaneous Concert given on the 
 occasion when Signor Forti had declined appearing, as one 
 of the regular subscription nights." It was further said " that 
 the Manager trusted the subscribers would accept the invita- 
 tion, as an evidence of his grateful feelings towards them." 
 
 This was so perfectly new, that it completely took them by 
 surprise. So rarely does any Manager give those who sup- 
 port him more performances than the number agreed on (the 
 contrary, indeed, being generally the case), that they were 
 unable to restrain their expressions of astonishment. More- 
 over, the concluding lines appeared to intimate that 'we were 
 about to bid them a speedy farewell. Little else-- was now 
 wanting to kindle their enthusiasm. 
 
 On the following day numerous communications and in- 
 quiries, touching another subscription, proved to me that the 
 dose given under my treatment had operated beneficially. 
 
 In the evening, upon my entrance in the Orchestra, I was 
 loudly and vehemently cheered. This proved to me that 
 their enthusiasm had recovered from its sickliness, and was 
 again warming to a respectable blood-heat. 
 
 Accordingly, after the first Act, circulars were again dis- 
 tributed through the house. These announced, that, on the 
 following day, a third subscription for twelve nights would be 
 opened, during which " The Mexican prima donna, Senorita 
 Eufrasia Amat, would make her first appearance upon any stage,- 
 as Arsace, in Eossini's Grand Opera of '" Semiramide." This 
 was followed by a biography of the Senorita Eufrasia, 
 drawn up in the regular fashion of such biographies. Her 
 father's services and his distinguished gallantry as shown in 
 the war for the liberation of his country from the Spanish 
 yoke, were recalled in a manner sufficient to make every 
 Mexican heart beat with pride and patriotism. And, finally, 
 I declared " myself most happy to have discovered in the 
 
 12 
 
266 EEVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 daughter of this hero" (who, unfortunately, had been previ- 
 ously forgotten by his countrymen) " such transcendent vocal 
 qualifications" (I was very careful not to call them such 
 transcendent vocal excellencies) as to justify me in entertain- 
 ing the belief that Mexico's native prima donna would, at 
 some future" (this adjective, my dear sir, was very carefully 
 inserted) " day, shine as a star of the first magnitude among 
 the Operatic celebrities of the world." 
 
 It would be needless to say that the public was in raptures, 
 at this announcement. 
 
 In the moment of their excitement, no one remembered 
 that Signor Salvi would be unable to sing during the period 
 of the third subscription. He was, for the time, totally 
 forgotten. 
 
 Nay, I believe that nobody thought of anything else than 
 rushing to the box-office, for the purpose of prolonging their 
 subscription. 
 
 No sooner had this announcement gone forth, than Don 
 Augustino Iturbide and his friends took it upon themselves 
 to see that a purely patriotic encouragement was not wanting 
 the Mexican contralto. On the evening of her debut, milita- 
 ry bands, playing the national hymn and other Mexican airs, 
 were stationed outside of the Teatro di Santa Anna. The 
 exterior of the building was brilliantly illuminated ; while the 
 audience-portion of the house was decorated with garlands of 
 flowers, and a plentiful supply of bouquets and poetry was 
 provided. Need I tell you, that none of this, my good sir, 
 was done by the management. The whole of it came out of 
 the pockets of the patriots of Mexico. 
 
 But, I see that you are about to inquire of me, how she 
 succeeded ? 
 
 You perhaps imagine that, having exhausted Europe in 
 
OPEEA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 267 
 
 the search for novelties, you may at last find one in the New 
 World. 
 
 If so, believe me, you are in error. It may be naturally 
 supposed that, in the excitement of the performance, the pub- 
 lic occupied with reading the sonnets addressed to the Seno- 
 rita Eufrasia, and placed (printed, I should observe, in gold 
 letters, upon tissue-paper) in all of the boxes, had no time to 
 appreciate the miraculously discovered qualifications (re- 
 member, I do not say excellencies) of the daughter of their 
 previously unappreciated hero. At any rate, so it was. Yet, 
 we both realized our object. My third subscription was as 
 good as either of my two first, in spite of Signor Salvi's 
 having broken his arm. Donna Eufrasia Amat, although she 
 may not shine at the present moment as a vocal star, was in- 
 dubitably paid $800 for her first appearance before the 
 Mexican public, and in all probability obtained her desired 
 situation, as a church vocalist, in the Capital of Mexico. 
 
 After the twelve nights had terminated, the broken-armed 
 tenor recovered his capability of appearing on the stage. 
 
 We therefore remained for several months in the city, 
 with somewhat varying luck. 
 
 At length, the Revolution which was fomented in Guada- 
 laxara against the President, spread into the State of Mexico. 
 From that moment, the business became not only bad, but 
 disastrous. After some reflection, I determined upon return- 
 ing to New York, instead of proceeding into the interior of 
 the Republic, as we had at first proposed doing. Indeed, the 
 day of our departure had been already fixed, when on one 
 morning, a communication was received by me from the 
 Ministro di Hacienda (an official, holding a position equiva- 
 lent to our Secretary of State for the Treasury) which invi- 
 ted me to wait upon him. What on earth this invitation 
 could have reference to, it was utterly impossible for me to 
 
268 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 imagine. "With this Minister my affairs, up to the present 
 moment, had not the slightest possible connection. Attend- 
 ance however to such an invitation in Mexico was decidedly 
 compulsory, and I therefore obeyed it. Receiving me with the 
 most gracious politeness, and after having requested me to be 
 seated and tendered me the almost inevitable cigarito, he 
 thus addressed me : 
 
 " Do you know, Senor Maret»ek, that for several months 
 you have neglected to pay the requisite contributions to the 
 State?" 
 
 "When he said this, I stared at him. 
 
 " Indeed! you have neglected them altogether." 
 
 " Excuse me, Excellency ! I have paid $100 every month, 
 and have sent four private purses to the Governor of the 
 State, not reckoning the fines and penalties which the Gov- 
 ernor has been pleased to demand from the management." 
 
 " I see you do not understand me." 
 
 " I do not, your Excellency." 
 
 " The $100 each month are required for your license," he 
 continued. 
 
 " So I was told." 
 
 " I am alluding to your contributions.'' 
 
 " What contributions ?" 
 
 " By the laws of Mexico," he replied, " every artist is 
 obliged to pay ten per cent, from his salary, as a contribution 
 to the Treasury." 
 
 Let me confess, my dear sir, that I was not altogether 
 sorry to find that my artists were likely to have some of their 
 wool shorn from them. In forcing me to raise their salaries 
 some sixty per cent, more than they had been in New York, 
 they had certainly seized upon not only the lion's share of 
 the profits, but had, latterly, even compelled me to settle with 
 them some of the outstanding scores from the last season at 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 269 
 
 the Astor Place Opera House, where we had been working 
 together against the opposition company. 
 
 Therefore, I smilingly replied to the Minister, " All your 
 Excellency will have to do, in that case, will be to ask the 
 artists themselves for their contributions." 
 
 " Oh ! no. By no means !" he replied. " That would take 
 up by far too much time and trouble. We are in a hurry 
 (at the moment, I scarcely understood what this meant) on 
 account of the troubled state of affairs in this country. Now, 
 the law is very explicit. It says, most clearly, that the im- 
 presario is compelled to deduct the ten per cent, demanded 
 by the State, and to retain it in his own hands. Consequent- 
 ly, we know but one responsible person invariably, and in 
 the present instance this person is, of course, yourself." 
 
 " But, your Excellency, I have paid them their salary, not 
 having been notified that there was such a law in existence." 
 
 " That does not matter." 
 
 " Supposing that they should refuse — Italians are very capa- 
 ble of refusing the payment of money — to return it to me." 
 
 " You can take it from their future salary," was his quiet 
 and curt reply. 
 
 " Should they refuse to sing, in consequence of my having 
 done so ?" 
 
 " They shall be compelled to sing," he responded with a 
 knowing smile. 
 
 " But, your Excellency ! how am I to procure the money, 
 supposing their engagement is at an end ?" 
 
 " Then you must pay it from your own treasury." 
 
 " That may be empty." 
 
 " Then I shall simply have the whole of your personal 
 property seized." 
 
 " But, if I should have no property here, which you could 
 lay your hands upon ?" 
 
270 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 " In such a case,'' he responded with a provoking smile, 
 '•' I shall secure your person." 
 
 Meanwhile, this conversation had excited me. It appeared 
 such a wanton exercise of power to fine me (you will remem- 
 ber that I had smiled internally, when I had imagined the 
 fine was to fall only upon the artists) simply for having 
 brought into Mexico an Italian Operatic Company, that I 
 could not restrain myself. With the natural interest of a 
 stranger and an American, I had read all the details which 
 were published of the Rebellion, and knew almost as much 
 as any private individual in Mexico at that period could have 
 known, of the situation of the government. Consequently, I 
 replied — 
 
 " In a few days, your Excellency, I may be liberated." 
 
 " How so ?" he coolly inquired. 
 
 " Forsooth ! it appears to me pretty clear. A new President 
 and a new Secretary of State may possibly interfere in the mat- 
 ter." 
 
 He, however, did not lose his temper. But smiling on me 
 with a serene lookof the most gracious benevolence, he replied— 
 
 " That is very true. But in the mean time we are in a 
 state of siege. Eemember this, if you please to do so, Senor 
 Empresario ! I — " he laid an ugly emphasis on the " 1" — 
 " can do what I please with you." 
 
 This last remark which he had made, had sufficient truth 
 in it to tone down my excitement considerably. Accordingly, 
 I remained silent for two or three minutes. While I did not 
 speak, I was revolving in my own mind what was to be done. 
 At last, I decided on resuming the conversation. 
 
 " And how much, your Excellency, is it that I am re- 
 quired to contribute ?" 
 
 " Upon my word," he replied, " that is a difficult matter to 
 say. However, in order not to lose any time" (he was evi- 
 dently in a great hurry) " let us sav $5000. Provided you 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 271 
 
 pay me this at once, I shall be contented to give you a receipt 
 in full for the seven months." 
 
 " Your Excellency," I replied, rising from my seat, " will 
 have the kindness to send me a written order (!) to this ef- 
 fect. I shall consult my lawyer, and if I find that I am com- 
 pelled to liquidate it, I presume that I must do so." 
 
 " Don Max," he replied, " you shall receive the order." 
 When he had said this I quietly bowed to him, and retired 
 without saying another word. 
 
 Returning home (or rather returning to my temporary apart- 
 ments in the city), I determined not yet to apply to a lawyer. 
 Knowing sufficient of the Mexican internal politics, to see that 
 every hour saved would be so much gained in the attempt to 
 evade the settlement of this most unjustdemand, I determined 
 at present upon the observation of a masterly neutrality. 
 However, the Secretary of State was by no means inclined to 
 let such a valuable pecuniary case as mine was, slumber. In 
 less than two hours, therefore, I received from him the 
 " written order." It was remarked by me, that the individual 
 who bore it was not an official servant of the Ministry. He 
 appeared more like a humble personal dependant attached to 
 the person of the Secretary, himself. Indeed, I was confirmed 
 in this idea, by seeing him look carefully round the room to see 
 that no one (my wife alone was present) was in it, but himself and 
 your " highly-respected and many-talented" servant, the Se- 
 nor Max Maretzek. Then, bowing very profoundly, he inti- 
 mated to me that the Ministro di Hacienda wished me 
 immediately to return to him, as he thought that this matter 
 might be arranged without the assistance or interference of a 
 lawyer. 
 
 In obedience to this hint, I accordingly returned with this 
 person to the Ministry. On being shown into the same 
 apartment I had previously seen the minister in; I found, in- 
 
272 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 stead of the Secretary of State, another high functionary of 
 the government, who after asking me to be seated, also ten- 
 dered me another of the inevitable cigaritos. This, naturally 
 enough, I did not dare to refuse. As I took and lit it, the 
 following conversation ensued between us. 
 
 " This matter, Senor Maretzek — " he commenced. 
 
 "The matter of the contribution, your Excellency?" I in- 
 quired. 
 
 " Precisely ! It has been reconsidered. If the State did 
 not in its present position actually require money, it would 
 not be so pressing. But the present rebellion has completely 
 drained the Treasury, and forces us to make the present de- 
 mand. Therefore, we are unable to help you." 
 
 Here he stopped speaking, as if he expected an answer. 
 But I was silent, and he continued after a momentary pause — 
 
 "If you will immediately pay §3000 instead of. $5000, 
 you may consider the matter settled." 
 
 " I have to inform your Excellency, that I shall do nothing 
 of the sort." 
 
 "Now, pray do not get excited, Senor Mmpresario ! " he 
 replied, as he noticed my anger. " Let us talk like men of 
 the world." 
 
 Saying this, he looked round him to see that the doors of 
 the apartment were closed, and, then drawing his chair nearer 
 to mine, he gazed into my face. Laying his hand upon my 
 knee, he said in a remarkably confidential tone of voice — in- 
 deed I am not aware that I should be doing wrong, in calling 
 it a whisper — 
 
 " If you give us $3000, we — why, we will give you a re- 
 ceipt for $5000 ! Eh ! Senor Max ! What do you think of 
 this arrangement?" 
 
 " Simply," I replied, " that I do not understand what it 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 273 
 
 " It means this, Senor ! " he answered. "You can, should 
 you -wish to do so, retain $5000 from the salaries of your 
 artists, having only paid the government $3000 out of your 
 receipts.'' 
 
 " "Well, then, supposing I decline this offer ? " 
 
 " But you will not do so." 
 
 " I am by no means so certain of that fact, your Excel- 
 lency!" 
 
 He looked at me, as though he could not believe in the pos- 
 sibility of this. 
 
 " Or, supposing that my artists positively decline permitting 
 me to retain even the first claquo from their salary." 
 
 " In either case, Senor Maretzek, I shall be obliged to put 
 the following rescript in execution." 
 
 As he said this, he took a paper from his pocket, unfolded 
 it, and displayed it to me. It was a signed and sealed order 
 for the seizure of the receipts at the door of, as well as any 
 other property in the Teatro di Santa Anna, upon the same 
 evening. When I saw this, the blood rushed into my face, 
 and I felt myself trembling with passion. What was to be 
 done ? A thousand thoughts passed through my mind, and 
 one of them appeared to me to present a possible solution to 
 my difficulties. I accordingly rose from my seat. 
 
 '' Knowing the existence of this order," I said, " I shall 
 give no performance on this evening." 
 
 His face showed me that he had not reckoned upon this 
 probability. 
 
 " Moreover, I shall state to the public my reasons for not 
 doing so." 
 
 " You shall not be allowed to speak ! " 
 
 " Then I will write or print." 
 
 It was now his turn to become excited, and let me do him 
 
 the justice to say, my good sir, that his excitement was far 
 
 12* 
 
274 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 more demonstrative than mine had been. He stamped, ges- 
 ticulated and threw his arms about, as only a Spaniard, an 
 Italian, a Portuguese or a Mexican can do. Something like 
 the names of half a dozen of the more respectable Mexican 
 Saints escaped from his lips, the while he was thus amusing 
 himself. At length, he partially calmed down and resumed 
 the conversation, although his lips were white and his fingers 
 quivering, the while he did so. 
 
 " For the sake of the Holy Virgin ! Senor Maretzek !" he 
 said, " if you will not pay $3000, let us make some arrange- 
 ment together." 
 
 I shook my head, in reply to this adjuration. 
 
 "Let us say $2500!" 
 
 " I cannot, your Excellency." 
 
 " Make me some offer ! " 
 
 Again I shook my head. 
 
 " What will you pay ? " he asked. 
 
 " If it is possible — nothing ! " 
 
 " Let me assure you, Senor, that you will cause yourself 
 serious — very serious annoyance, if» you decline settling this 
 matter." 
 
 While he uttered this, he had been pacing the chamber, but 
 on its conclusion again approached me, and in a confidential, 
 imploring, good-fellow-like style of tone, thus appealed to me : 
 
 " Now, my dear Senor Max ! do be reasonable. Give us 
 $2000— only $2000 ! If possible, we will pay it back to 
 you when we have settled the present disturbances. Now, 
 be a good friend to us, and give us $2000." 
 
 Willingly would I, at the moment, have paid him this sum 
 for the chance of daring to laugh in his face, when I saw the 
 turn which matters were taking. However, foreseeing that 
 it would be somewhat difficult to evade complying in some 
 fashion with a portion of his demands, I jestingly said to him — 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 275 
 
 "I will give your Excellency no more than $1000 — be- 
 lieve me." 
 
 " That is not enough." 
 
 " I can't help it." 
 
 " Now do not be quite so hard-hearted, my dear friend. 
 In the name of San Jose, give us at least $1800. 
 
 " Not one claquo over $1000 !" was my brief and sharp 
 reply. 
 
 " By the Holy Virgin and the Twelve Apostles ! you are 
 too hard upon us," he uttered imploringly. " Let us finish. 
 We will take $1500." 
 
 " Not a single claquo above $1000." 
 
 « Well ! say $1200 ?" 
 
 " No !" 
 
 " By Santa Guadaloupa ! you are the most difficult man to 
 deal with, I ever met. Suppose we say $1100, my very 
 good Senor?" 
 
 "I have named the amount, your Excellency!" 
 
 " Well ! What must be, must be, I suppose," was his 
 reply. " Hand me over the $1000." 
 
 It was all I could do to stifle my laughter. Not a single 
 word more could I have spoken in his presence, without 
 abandoning myself to its paroxysms. So I seated myself at 
 his table, and wrote out an osder upon my banker, for $1000. 
 When I arose from my seat and handed it to him, he gave 
 me a receipt in full for my seven months' contributions to the 
 expenses of the State. This receipt, my dear sir, I still 
 have. It is preserved as a slight memorial of my having 
 contributed my share, to give the Mexican Ministro di Haci- 
 enda the means of retiring into private life. You ask me 
 what I mean by the last phrase. Simply this. On the fol- 
 lowing morning, the news throughout the city was that the 
 President Arista had abdicated, having quitted Mexico in a 
 
276 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 clandestine manner on the preceding night. As a new 
 __ Ministry was immediately formed, it was easy enough to 
 divine why the old Secretary had been in such a hurry to 
 obtain my contribution to the expenses of the State, the day 
 before the new incumbent came into office. 
 
 Under the circumstances arising from the disturbed con- 
 dition of Mexico, it was evident to me that in another week, 
 another Ministry of State might require another contribution 
 towards the expenses of another government. Not being a 
 Mexican, it may be supposed that I had not another $1000's 
 worth of patriotism, which I should particularly relish in- 
 vesting in it. Moreover, on mentioning this fact to my 
 artists, singular to relate, they were all of my opinion. Such 
 a strange unanimity has rarely been before evinced (at any 
 rate, under my management it never has) by any Italian 
 Operatic Company. Therefore, upon a brief consultation, 
 we decided that it would be expedient to pack up our trunks, 
 and to return by Puebla, to Vera Cruz. Anarchy had not, 
 as yet, spread to these two cities, and we all divined the pos- 
 sibility of making some advantage of the time yet remain- 
 ing to us, as we fled before her very visible and rapid 
 approach. 
 
 Upon the same day, consequently, I engaged two entire 
 stages or diligences, without experiencing any of the same 
 difficulty which had attended my arrangements with the 
 Postmaster of Vera Cruz. 
 
 Also, I may here state, that the appearance of the whole 
 company was strangely different on the morning of our 
 departure, to what it had been some eight months before. 
 
 When they arrived at the post-house, they looked rather 
 like a horde of Mexican banditti than a peaceful company 
 of Italian vocalists. You might almost have smelt blood 
 amongst them, as they passed under your nose. All were 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 277 
 
 armed to the teeth. Each one of them carried a double- 
 barrelled gun, two revolvers, and a huge Bowie knife. 
 Even the very ladies looked like the Amazonian warriors of 
 a former age, dressed and armed in the fashion of the 
 present day. Not one of them was there, who did not carry 
 her pistol. Indeed, one of the male members of the com- 
 pany (Herr Kreutzer) had provided himself with a small 
 brass cannon, which he had very scientifically loaded with 
 thirty pistol bullets, and I am unable to say how many pounds 
 of powder. Suffice it, that I prayed with a most earnest 
 and exemplary fervor that we might fall among no banditti. 
 This would preclude his having any chance of discharging 
 the formidable weapon, which, it was feared by me, might 
 very possibly have done much more damage to his allies 
 than to his enemies. 
 
 In fact, each of the stages resembled a moving fortress. 
 As either of them contained nine seats, three of which were 
 in the centre, these last were exclusively occupied by 
 ladies. 
 
 On either side of them, sat three gentlemen, each with his 
 bellicose double-barrel leaning out of the windows of the 
 diligence. 
 
 Upon the top of either stage, immediately behind the 
 driver, sate two well-armed servants, for the purpose of keep- 
 ing a sharp look-out, and giving the alarm in case of any 
 suspicious-looking characters appearing upon the road. 
 
 Indeed, we had taken the trouble of warning the two 
 drivers, that if, in case of an attack upon the party, they 
 should either stop or upset the diligence (a somewhat com- 
 mon case, in Mexico, being their collusion with the whole- 
 sale plunderers on the highways) at that instant, the two 
 first bullets of each of his companions would be destined for 
 his head. On the other hand, if matters went on smoothly, 
 
278 KEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 a round bonus was promised both of them on our arrival at our 
 destination. I feel that you ask me, wherefore we had taken 
 these precautions. If I tell you, my good sir, that we were 
 laden with the precious metals, you must not impute to me 
 the folly of carrying my money with me. That which I had 
 made in Mexico had already been forwarded, through a 
 banking-house, to New York. The members of my com- 
 pany, however, had, with the customary avarice of Italian 
 operatic or musical artists, preferred bringing theirs with 
 them, for the sake of saving the ten per cent, discount on 
 taking bills of exchange drawn upon the United States. 
 
 Plenty of suspicious-looking and armed riders were met 
 by us on the road. But, either our formidable appearance 
 or some secret warning conveyed to them by our drivers, 
 caused them to abandon the idea of making any hostile 
 demonstration. 
 
 Nor must you think, my dear sir, that I am at all roman- 
 cing about the dangers attendant upon travelling in Mexico. 
 
 The Mexican robber is generally both cunning and daring. 
 Some of their bands are even admirably organized, and keep 
 their agents in the Capital and others of the principal cities, 
 through whose activity regular notice is transmitted them of 
 any occasion which may chance for seizing upon a rich booty. 
 Passports are occasionally sold by these agents, at a high 
 price, which the traveller has only to show when attacked. 
 He is then permitted to continue his way unmolested, or may, 
 if he wishes it, partake the hospitality of these ordinarily 
 unscrupulous gentlemen. Neither is a Mexican bandit 
 always a bandit, unless the love of excitement should happen 
 to preclude his abandoning his professional avocations. Once, 
 when in Tacubaya, I remarked a beautiful villa, with a 
 splendid view from its windows across the lakes of the city 
 of Mexico. Being somewhat curious as to the ownership of 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 279 
 
 this lovely dwelling, I asked a ranchero who was passing — 
 " to whom it belonged ? " 
 
 " It is Don 's, who, some fifteen years since, was Cap- 
 tain of a band of robbers." 
 
 "Indeed!" 
 
 " Yes," he naively continued. " He has now retired from 
 business." 
 
 As the ranchero gave me this piece of information, his 
 countenance was as calm as that of the driver of a New 
 York omnibus might have been, in replying to a question 
 touching the residence of a retired ship-builder, or some 
 Alderman who.had quitted office. 
 
 There are many stories afloat about these Mexican ban- 
 ditti, of more or less veracity. One of these, I am unable 
 to refrain from mentioning to you, although it has little con- 
 nection with the main object of this letter. 
 
 The proceedings in the criminal courts prove its truth. A 
 heavy penalty was paid for its daring by the principal 
 offender. 
 
 One of the leading bankers in Mexico was a particular 
 friend of General Santa Anna, when he was many years 
 since the President of that Republic. While this friendship 
 was in full flower, he visited- the General for the purpose of 
 taking leave of him for a few days. The reason of this was, 
 that he was going to a neighboring city to marry his son or 
 one of his sons with a wealthy heiress, whose place of resi- 
 dence lay in that neighborhood. 
 
 " I congratulate you, my dear friend," said Santa Anna. 
 " I presume that you will astonish the bride with the trousseau 
 you have provided." 
 
 " Why, yes, your Highness, I rather flatter myself that I 
 shall. $30,000 are a tolerably high figure for jewelry, and silks 
 and satins." 
 
280 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 " They are, indeed." 
 
 " Yet such is the amount," said the banker, with a con- 
 siderable degree of pride. 
 
 "And do you intend carrying that amount with you?" 
 asked Santa Anna. 
 
 "Why not?" 
 
 " Are you not afraid of the robbers which infest the roads 
 to the Capital?" 
 
 •' Not at all, your Highness ! I have this time outwitted 
 them." 
 
 "How so?" inquired Santa Anna, with some degree of 
 curiosity. 
 
 " I will tell your Highness, confidentially, of course. But it 
 must go no farther." 
 
 " Certainly not." 
 
 " Last week I received a carriage from Paris, made ex- 
 pressly for me. With this carriage, I shall certainly puzzle 
 the rascals if they attack me." 
 
 "Indeed!" 
 
 " It, simply, has a double bottom. But, in order to come at 
 it, and open it, it is necessary to remove the hind-wheels and 
 dismount the axle-tree. Just above the centre of this, is an 
 invisible spring. Touch this, and the false bottom opens, in- 
 side the carriage. It is very ingenious. Is it not?'' 
 
 " Admirably so, my friend !" 
 
 " There shall I stow away the jewelry, and there they will 
 certainly not find it." 
 
 " It is unlikely." 
 
 " Say, rather, that it is impossible," said the banker, with a 
 triumphant smile, as, amid congratulations and witty remarks, 
 the two friends separated. 
 
 Next morning, the banker, with the intended bridegroom, 
 left Mexico. They were scarcely four leagues out. of the 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 281 
 
 city, when the carriage was stopped by a dozen or more of 
 masked banditti. 
 
 The banker did not attempt any defence, but said to the 
 robbers — 
 
 " Cabcdleros ! I have only ten ' ounces ' with me. You are 
 welcome to nine of them." 
 
 The chief took the nine "ounces" which were offered him, 
 and then, with great courtesy, requested the banker and his 
 son to quit the carriage. Naturally, they obeyed him, as lie 
 and his companions were well armed. An ironical smile curled 
 the banker's lip as he foresaw that they were going to search 
 the vehicle. But who can picture his intense amazement, 
 when he saw that no sooner had he placed his foot upon the 
 ground, than two of the robbers, without even searching the 
 interior of it, removed the hind-wheels and dismounted the 
 axletree. Then, they touched the invisible spring. No 
 sooner had they done so, than the false bottom opened inside 
 the carriage, and, bringing a sack forward, the others began 
 to fill its yawning mouth with the contents of that which he 
 had fancied a secure hiding-place. When this work had 
 been completed, the Captain of the band, who had been en- 
 gaged in watching them, advanced towards the banker, and, 
 with exemplary politeness, raised his hat. 
 
 "Senor!" he said, "if the 'ounce' which is left in your 
 pocket should not be enough to carry you to the place of your 
 destination, I shall be happy to advance you any amount you 
 may require, upon your note. Your banking-house is well 
 enough known, to warrant my cashing anything which bears 
 your name." 
 
 The banker declined the offer, and after being relieved of 
 his unpleasant companions, abandoning his carriage to the 
 care of the driver, returned with his son, on horseback, to 
 Mexico. 
 
282 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 His first visit was to Santa Anna. 
 
 " I thought," said the President, " that you had already 
 quitted the city." 
 
 " I did so, your Highness ! But I have been robbed," was 
 the answer. 
 
 " Robbed ! " ejaculated Santa Anna. 
 
 " Yes ! your Highness." 
 
 " But the double-bottomed carriage ! " 
 
 " That is it," said the banker. " By the Holy Virgin ! I 
 tell you that they removed the hind-wheels, dismounted the 
 axletree, touched the spring, and carried off my property." 
 
 " That is strange." 
 
 " Yes ! your Highness, it is strange — very strange ; and so 
 much the more strange, as no one save you and myself knew 
 the secret of it." 
 
 " But you must have shown it to somebody else, or, how 
 should they have discovered it ? " 
 
 " To no one ! " replied the banker. 
 
 " But this is impossible." 
 
 " It was not. I, myself, concealed the goods without help 
 or attendance," persisted the angry banker. 
 
 " Why ! you do not suppose that I could have so far for- 
 gotten myself as to rob you?" 
 
 " No ! your Highness, I do not." 
 
 " What do you mean, then ?" 
 
 " You may have played rather too brilliant a jest upon 
 your humble servant," angrily continued the banker. 
 
 " Senor !" said Santa Anna haughtily, pointing to the door, 
 " you are impertinent." 
 
 " Within the week, the banker's son was married. His 
 bride was furnished with a trousseau procured in the city 
 where she resided. The manner in which the secret had 
 been discovered remained an apparently impenetrable mys- 
 
OPEBA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 283 
 
 tery. His dear friend no longer visited the President, and 
 Santa Anna frowned whenever that dear friend's name was 
 mentioned in his presence. At length, on a morning some 
 few months later, an individual offered to sell a jeweller an 
 object which that jeweller recognized as having been bought 
 from himself. It had been purchased by the banker, and was 
 one of the very articles of which he had been robbed. This 
 individual was immediately arrested, and after many exam- 
 inations the confession was wrung from him, that he belonged 
 to a band of robbers, of which one of the aides-de-camp of* 
 Santa Anna was the chief. 
 
 He had been in the ante-chamber when the banker had 
 made his disclosure to the President, and through the par- 
 tially open door, had heard the whole of it. In consequence 
 of this chance information, he had planned the robbery and 
 accomplished it. 
 
 Justice was once done in Mexico. Santa Anna had him 
 publicly '' garroted." 
 
 Let me, my dear sir, again return to the chronicles of my 
 professional trip through Mexico. We paused upon our route 
 to Puebla. It will doubtless gratify you to hear that we ar- 
 rived there, safe and unplundered. 
 
 As I had neither Orchestra nor Chorus with me, I was 
 obliged to search for both before we could think of perform- 
 ing in that city. A dozen tolerable musicians were easily 
 found in Puebla. It was, as I have earlier indicated, a place 
 where churches abounded. These were necessarily all Cath- 
 olic ones, and the principal attractions of Catholic churches 
 are good music and good musicians. My Orchestra was con- 
 sequently safe. A Chorus, however, was somewhat more 
 difficult to find. This was not that the voices were lacking, 
 or the capacity to use them. But the will was wanting. 
 They would sing Eossini's music in a church. Rossini upon 
 
284 
 
 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 the stage was a perfectly different thing. This settled in my 
 mind the question as regarded the production of Opera, and 
 I determined to try a Concert. So poor was the attendance 
 at this Concert, that I at once ordered all the luggage con- 
 taining the Operatic music, dresses and other properties, to 
 be forwarded to Vera Cruz. 
 
 However, as, upon inquiry respecting our own departure, I 
 found that we could not leave immediately, the music of 
 "Don Pasquale" was alone kept back. 
 
 * My reason for doing this was, simply, that " Don Pasquale" 
 can be played in citizen's dress, as well as without" a Chorus. 
 I accordingly announced our last appearance in Puebla, in 
 this Opera, without any very great expectation of an audi- 
 ence. But I had reckoned "without mine host" in this in- 
 stance. Whether it was that the priestly inhabitants of Pue- 
 bla were sound critics, and valued the musical talents of the 
 artists engaged in my troupe more after hearing them than 
 they had done in hearing about them through the journals of 
 Mexico, which, truth to say, would have been no great won- 
 der; or, whether it was the word "Opera" instead of" Con- 
 cert" which galvanized their monkish intelligence into an un- 
 wonted activity, it would be absolutely impossible for me to 
 say. But, on the evening of the performance, the theatre 
 was crammed to its fullest extent within ten minutes after the 
 doors were opened. Not even standing roojn could be ob- 
 tained in it. In short, like Petrillo in the Spanish " Jack the 
 Giant- Killer," who sliced his doublet and let out the chopped 
 sausages (this was for. the purpose of terrifying his gigantic 
 enemy), I thought it necessary to keep the doors df the boxes 
 open, to prevent their bursting with repletion. 
 
 About this large audience, there was also one singularity 
 which confirmed me in that opinion anteriorly laid down by 
 me, respecting the population of Puebla. Two-thirds of it 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 285 
 
 were distinguished by the clerical tonsure, and wore the dun 
 and black gowns of the Koman Catholic priesthood. 
 
 Nothing could have exceeded the enthusiasm displayed by 
 this audience, whether in its lay or clerical sections. In the in- 
 terval between the second and third Acts, the public — priests, 
 and monks — dames and cavaliers, alike stood up, and with 
 shrill screams and yells demanded that we should give them 
 one or two performances more. Nothing, my good sir, could 
 have exceeded that Babel. To any individual possessed of 
 the greatest requisite of poetry — a fertile imagination — it 
 might have given a faint, although a tolerably perfect idea 
 of Pandemonium. Marini, who entered the stage when the 
 curtain drew up, attempted to proceed with his part in vain. 
 He was literally screeched into silence, and obliged to aban- 
 don the effort to make play with his ponderous voice against 
 the tumult. At my request, he then came forward, announc- 
 ing to the excitable and excited public, that — 
 
 " Our music and dresses had already been forwarded to 
 Vera Cruz, and that, consequently, we had nothing which we 
 could perform.'' 
 
 " Except ' Don Pasquale,'" vociferated one fat little monk, 
 with a .prodigiously full bass roar. 
 
 " Then give us ' Don Pasquale ! ' " 
 
 As this was shouted out by the whole house, men, women, 
 and priests, it was obvious that we should be forced to obey. 
 The formal promise that this Opera should be repeated upon 
 the morrow, was therefore given, after a modest moment's 
 appearance of doubt and hesitation, simply imposed upon us 
 by the paramount necessity (in all cases this is paramount) 
 of appearing totally independent of the will of the public. 
 
 On the following day, an even greater crowd and a larger 
 number of priestly dresses (if either of these things were pos- 
 sible) made their appearance in the theatre. Scarcely had 
 
286 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 the second Act terminated, than a precisely similar scene to 
 that which had taken place upon the preceding evening was 
 repeated. The public, with yells and screams, rose, and de- 
 manded another performance. I was just going to request 
 Marini to announce the third repetition of " Don Pasquale," 
 when the very same fat little wretch who had specified this 
 Opera on the preceding evening, stood up on his seat, and 
 with his shorn and shaven head glistening in the oil-light of 
 the theatre, roared out — 
 
 "Give us 'Norma!'" 
 
 No sooner had the public heard his abominable basso, than 
 they also shouted out — 
 
 " Yes, yes ! Give us ' Norma ! ' " 
 
 "'Norma! "Norma!"' 
 
 " "We want ' Norma ! ' " 
 
 Here was a position to be placed in. "Without either mu- 
 sic or dresses for the " Norma,'' we were required to give it. 
 "With a heroism unusual in an Italian, when he is obliged to 
 decline taking the contents of the public purse, Marini, at my 
 request, again stepped forward. The voice of the audience 
 calmed into silence, and he began a delicate explanation of 
 our unfortunate situation. 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen," he said, neglecting to add monks 
 to his specification of the sexes of his audience," I am truly 
 sorry to tell you, that the music of 'Norma' is by this time 
 nearly at "Vera Cruz !" 
 
 " Never mind ! " roared the squab little priest, who was still 
 standing on his seat, " we have it." 
 
 "IS viva, el Padre Juanito ! " shouted the whole house, like 
 one man." 
 
 " "We sing it in our church at High Mass ! You shall use 
 our score." 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 287 
 
 i 
 
 Marini, being beaten upon this point, like a clever general, 
 attempted another. 
 
 " But, ladies and gentlemen, we have no Chorus !" he re- 
 monstrated. N 
 
 "Al C los Coros!" was the polite answer made by 
 
 the musical audience, in which, conscience, my dear sir, forces 
 me to say that my ears very accurately detected the roar of 
 the round little priestly basso. Be it remembered, also, to 
 the eternal shame of Puebla, that more than one half of the 
 audience in the first tier were ladies. Deeply do I regret 
 that their presence did^not tame the tongues of the male half 
 of creation. But truth is truth. The pen is in my hand, and 
 I am obliged to record this ungentlemanly effervescence of 
 feeling. At the same time, my dear sir, my conscience is 
 unable to repudiate the fact, that a similar destination has not, 
 unoften, appeared to me a fitting one for many of the Choruses 
 upon this side of the broad Atlantic. 
 
 " I am sorry to say,'' continued Marini, in a remarkably 
 timid voice, toned down, by his increasing nervousness, into a 
 truly remarkable affinity with a cracked soprano, " that we 
 have no dresses." 
 
 " Can't you play it in your own ? " bellowed out his tor- 
 mentor, in a tone that might have claimed relationship with 
 the accents of a Chinese gong. 
 
 " Yes ! yes ! ' Norma ' in citizens' dress ! " 
 
 "We want 'Norma!'" 
 
 " You must give us ' Norma' in some shape or other !" 
 
 " "We will have it ! " screamed out the public. 
 
 Seeing there was no way of appeasing them but one, and 
 that this was the promising a compliance with their wishes, 
 Marini was obliged to announce that "Norma" should be 
 performed upon the following evening. After this under- 
 
288 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 stood pledge to obey their will, the performance of " Don 
 Pasquale" was graciously permitted to proceed. 
 
 But no sooner had it terminated, than remonstrances of 
 every kind were addressed to me, upon the subject of that 
 promise which Mai'ini had given. 
 
 " Only reflect upon Pollio in a blue frock-coat and drab 
 pantaloons," said Salvi. 
 
 Steffenone, in a gracious tone of remonstrance, asked me, 
 '' What I thought of Norma, dressed in black silk, cut after 
 the fashion of the day ? " 
 
 Adalgisa was furious. She had, unfortunately, sent on her 
 private baggage with the boxes containing the stage-ward- 
 robe, to Vera Cruz. 
 
 Nobody was pleasant but Marini, who was lost in medita- 
 tion. He, in all probability, was considering the possibility 
 of converting a couple of sheets taken from his Mexican bed 
 into something resembling the white robes of a Gaulish 
 Druid. Mind me, my dear sir, I do not by any means posi- 
 tively affirm that this was the case. But, when you consider 
 the resources of genius taken at a nonplus, you, I feel, will 
 join me in the conclusion that this was very likely. 
 
 Against this general dissatisfaction, which, to do justice to 
 them, was not altogether unreasonable, as places had been 
 secured by the diligences upon the following day, I found 
 myself unable to do battle. Ingloriously, therefore, was I 
 compelled to make up my mind to run away and leave the 
 priestly public of Puebla in undisturbed possession of the 
 battle-ground. Therefore, everybody was notified to be in 
 readiness to start at 3 o'clock, A. M. Perhaps — but, mind 
 me, that I by no means assert this — my own brain enter- 
 tained some doubts as to the propriety of tampering too much 
 with the enthusiasm of such a remarkably excitable public. 
 Bellini is doubtless an admirably popular writer, and " Nor- 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 289 
 
 ma" is probably one of his finest Operas ; but without a 
 Chorus, it would, very likely, scarcely answer to the ideas of 
 the dead maestro. "Without dresses or scenery, it would as 
 certainly not coincide with the expectations of a New York, 
 London, or Parisian audience. While played from the music 
 which we might reasonably suppose had been scored by our 
 rotund little friend,- the small monk with the prodigious bass 
 voice, and played too by a local Orchestra with only one 
 rehearsal, it might not unnaturally be imagined that it would 
 scarcely suit the taste of the Pueblan public. 
 
 Under the influence of all these ideas, which floated through 
 my brain at the tail of the reproaches which had been, ad- 
 dressed to me by my company, did I seat myself on the -fol- 
 lowing morning in the diligence, in the midst of Italian tenors 
 and double-barrelled guns, delicate soprani and Colt's revolv- 
 ers, Herr Kreutzer and his field-piece, Bowie-knives, bassi, 
 and barytones. 
 
 Let me inform you, that we arrived in the afternoon of the 
 second day following, at Vera Cruz, unplundered. 
 
 Now, the bad success of our concert at Puebla had im- 
 posed upon me the belief, that, save' in extraordinary circum- 
 stances — such, for example, as those which had attended our 
 first performance in Vera Cruz — concerts were by no means 
 adapted to the musical taste of the Mexicans. For this, there 
 are many reasons, but the principal one is, that they are 
 Roman Catholic. Their cathedrals and their churches supply 
 them with vocal music, which is, in very many instances, far 
 from contemptible, and render them able to dispense with 
 better professional vocalism when unassisted, by dresses and 
 scenery. Opera localizes music in the theatre, and appeals 
 to their eyes as well as their ears. While to the latter, 
 alone, it presents an almost distinct combination of the re- 
 sources of melody. Necessarily, on arriving at these conclu- 
 
 13 
 
290 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 sions respecting the taste for music in the Mexican Re- 
 public, I determined upon, if possible, giving Opera in Vera 
 Cruz. 
 
 However, there were two great difficulties which presented 
 themselves to me in the accomplishment of this. These 
 were, the providing myself both with a Chorus and an 
 Orchestra. 
 
 It was not, that I might not probably have found some who 
 were willing to enact the part of members of the first of 
 these two bodies. But I had not the necessary time to teach 
 them, granting, even, that they were willing to be taught then- 
 duties. 
 
 What was I to do ? After a little thought, my dear sir, I 
 hit upon the following scheme. 
 
 This was, that the whole of my company, whether rejoicing 
 in the title of primo or secondo tenore, whether basso or bary- 
 tone, whether prima or secunda donna or contralto, in fact, 
 that every vocalist who was not required in the Opera as it 
 was cast, should sing in the Chorus. Furthermore, I ima- 
 gined that the chambermaids or servants to the different 
 artists, being connected with vocalists and constantly hearing 
 them at rehearsal, (whether in the theatre or in their private 
 apartments,) most certainly could or would, and therefore 
 should sing for their masters' and mistresses' as well as my 
 own benefit. By this means, a tolerably numerous Chorus 
 would be constituted. The only difficulty, as it appeared to 
 me, would lie in the inducing such artists as Steffenone, Salvi, 
 Marini and others to consent to it. Here, contrary to my 
 expectations, I met with not the slightest. It may have 
 been that they saw the impossibility of our gaining anything 
 at Vera Cruz, unless they consented to it. But I prefer 
 thinking, that it was for the sake of the novelty of the expe- 
 riment (it was, if I am right, then tried for the first time), as 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 291 
 
 well as to gratify me after having led them through such a 
 successful season in Mexico, that they agreed to do so. With 
 the other and purely secondary members of such a Chorus, 
 I had, as I had divined, but little trouble. Their previously 
 involuntary acquirement of musical knowledge now stood 
 both them and myself in good stead, and rendered their 
 teaching a work of comparatively "little labor. 
 
 Suffice it, that though far from numerous, this Chorus was 
 very decidedly the best which I have ever had under my man- 
 agement. Indeed, such a Chorus has very rarely been 
 listened to in any part of this world, if it ever has. 
 
 Sometimes, let me own that it was strange to me to see, 
 when Forti and Rosi, or Beneventanb and Costini sung the 
 principal parts, such singers as StetFenone, Bertucca, Salvi, 
 Marini and others, standing amongst the Chorus. The man- 
 ner of Salvi's singing would perhaps be the most bitter 
 criticism which could be addressed in a quiet manner to the 
 other tenors, while Steffenone's would offer a lively lesson to 
 the soprani. Even the ladies' maids, men-servants, and 
 theatrical tailors knew the old Operas by heart, and were in- 
 spirited by ' the contact of their voices with those of these 
 artists. The last-named had also plenty of fun out of it, and 
 occasionally gratified their intense appreciation of applause in 
 a somewhat singular manner. When the public had some- 
 times been sufficiently bored by the vocalism of Beneventano 
 or Forti, they would call the Choristers by name before them. 
 The gentlemen would be cheered. Bouquets would be thrown 
 to the ladies, and possibly between the Acts a few dozen of 
 sparkling Champagne would be sent round to all of them, to 
 cheer them in their novel labors. 
 
 With the formation of the Orchestra I had, however, far 
 more difficulty. Musicians were very evidently, a consider- 
 able rarity in Vera Cruz. 
 
292 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 As for white musicians, such objects were not discoverable 
 in the market. All that I could find were twelve jetty-black 
 ones, who formed the band attached to the city. 
 
 The population being much scantier than that of Puebla, 
 this paucity may naturally be accounted for. 
 
 After a long search for something of a mulatto tone — a 
 human whity brown in the shape of a violinist, I was at 
 length obliged to make an arrangement with these twelve 
 sable-colored musicians. After having done this, the day for 
 our first Eehearsal was appointed. Punctual to the moment, 
 they arrived at the theatre. Evidently vain of their new 
 position, each darkie was got up to the best of his ability. 
 Trifling incongruities of attire might be visible. Some 
 tendency to glaring colors they might display in their vests 
 and neckcloths, while their linen might have been whiter and 
 finer, yet I must own (am I not, my dear sir, upon the con- 
 fessional stool ?) that their appearance agreeably surprised me. 
 
 " Come. All is not gold that glitters," I said to myself. 
 " Neither is the devil so blade as" (should I not have said 
 the negro ? however, let Satan pass for once) " he is invaria- 
 bly painted." 
 
 We went into the Orchestra. The music-books were 
 opened. I looked round me, tapped my desk with my baton 
 and the Overture began. 
 
 Ye Heavens ! what was I listening to ? Jumping up from 
 my desk, I threw my arms up in despair. Immediately they 
 all stopped playing. Eubbing my eyes, I almost fancied that 
 I had been sleeping. But, no ! I could not doubt but that 
 I was then, at least, wide awake. 
 
 "Let us try it once more," I muttered to myself, as I 
 again tapped the desk arid once more commenced the task of 
 conducting my jetty musicians. 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMEEICA. 293 
 
 Holy Cecilia ! It was far worse even than it had before 
 been. 
 
 Could I have imagined a dozen tom-cats giving vent to 
 their amorous feelings on the roof of my dwelling, at one 
 o'clock in the morning, it would scarcely have been worse. 
 The antique Orchestra devoted to scolding wives, and com- 
 posed of those singularly harmonious instruments, marrow- 
 bones and cleavers, could by no means have rivalled their 
 execution. King Philip of Pergamus could not have kept 
 his prisoners from the balmy blessings of sleep, with a more 
 frightfully horrid and unmusical din. Wagner's want of 
 melodic feeling could by no possibility have imagined such 
 an absence of all music. A dozen saw-mills, all arranged in' 
 contrary keys, could not have emulated it. Had a hyena, a 
 bear, two jackasses, four monkeys and a rattle-snake been 
 shut up together, and compelled to dance on a red-hot iron 
 plate, their yelling, growling, braying, chattering, hissing and 
 rattling, could certainly not have surpassed it. Leaping up 
 from my seat, I rushed into my dressing-room, threw myself 
 into a chair; and should undoubtedly have fainted, had not 
 Salvi, who had also been present, followed me. 
 
 " What is the matter ?" he asked. 
 
 " Champagne !" was all that I could utter, as I held out my 
 hand. 
 
 Luckily, he understood me and ran to his room, whence he 
 returned in some two minutes with a pint-flask of that, to 
 musical conductors and vocalists, most precious stimulant. 
 
 There was no glass, but with praiseworthy benevolence, he 
 cut the wires and tendered me the bottle. Scarcely knowing 
 what I did, I lifted it to my mouth. But in doing this the 
 cork exploded. With, I am ashamed to say, an oath, I 
 dropped the bottle upon the ground and laid my hand upon 
 
294 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 my nose. At the moment, I thpught that the end of it was 
 lost, forever. 
 
 " The wine is gone !" said Salvi in despair. 
 
 " And the top of my nose !" I moaned out in agony. 
 
 As bodily pain is good in many cases of mental suffering 
 to relieve the mind of man, so, it may be concluded that in 
 the present instance, this contusion of my nose saved me from 
 incipient madness. ' Agony — the agony of a mind keenly alive 
 to music — gave way to wrath. Eoaring out to Havercorn, 
 (my musical librarian on this tour) I bade him summon that 
 " black scoundrel !" 
 
 He looked at me as if astonished. 
 
 " The leader !" I reiterated. " He ought to be hung !" 
 
 For the moment, Havercorn imagined that I was insane. 
 
 " Or grilled over a slow fire." 
 
 With a look of dread he vanished from the apartment. 
 Evidently, he thought it by far the wisest thing he could do 
 to give me as wide a berth as possible, at this moment. 
 
 The leader came. 
 
 " Listen to me, you black rascal !" I said in the best Span- 
 ish I could muster. " If you, or any of your companions, ever 
 dare to play another note in my Orchestra, I dismiss you." 
 
 " But — Senor ! — " he began. 
 
 "Listen to me and be silent," I interjected, cutting him 
 short, " If you wish to be paid, it is best for you to obey my 
 orders. Otherwise you can leave me, and this at once." 
 
 Seeing that I was most thoroughly in earnest, he thought 
 it advisable to remain perfectly silent the while I continued 
 addressing him. 
 
 " Remember, black individual," I said, " that I only con- 
 sent to retain you in my Orchestra, upon the simple condition 
 of your not having the impudence to play, save when I bid 
 you. You must, however, pretend to do so. You must put 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 295 
 
 your horns and flutes to your mouths and appear to blow — 
 you must scrape away at your violins and seem to fiddle — 
 but, woe to the whole of you, if my ear catches- a single note 
 escaping from any of your instruments. Do you understand 
 me?" 
 
 "Yes, SeEor!" 
 
 ■' Now go and practice the last eight bars — only the last 
 eight of the first Act of the Opera (in Italian Operas, these 
 are invariably alike in all the Acts) under Herr Kreutzer. 
 These I allow you to play, as a great favor, provided you 
 practice them continually, the whole of to-day and to-morrow." 
 
 He looked at me, as a thoroughly humbled negro only can 
 look. 
 
 Suffice it, that I was contented with the impression I had 
 made upon him. After furthermore imprinting upon his 
 mind the necessity of preserving a scrupulous silence with 
 regard to my instructions, if his band at all wished to retain 
 their posts and salaries in my Orchestra (!) I allowed him 
 to leave me. 
 
 My next necessity was to procure a decently good piano- 
 forte. This was done, although with some little difficulty. 
 
 With this instrument, Herr Kreutzer's violin (an excel- 
 lent one for orchestral purposes) and Signor Beletti's clario- 
 net, I actually played and rendered the whole of every Opera 
 which was given under my management, in the city of Vera 
 Cruz, only permitting the negro Orchestra to play the last 
 eight bars in each Act. This, I am happy to say, they at 
 last learned to do tolerably well. But I am also happy to 
 say, that they never played anything nearly as well as they 
 acted playing. Nothing could well have been more glorious 
 than to see the French horn's cheeks distended with his ima- 
 ginary efforts, or to note the way in which the bows simu- 
 lated the scraping of the strings of the violins. Nothing 
 
296 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 could have more admirably shammed the reality. By this 
 means, we at all events kept up the semblance of an Orches- 
 tra, and ended all our Acts with the regular noise and uproar 
 of an Orchestra of fifteen members, although I feel conscien- 
 tiously bound to affirm that my piano, Kreutzer's violin, and 
 Beletti's clarionet, were even then by far its most prominent 
 members. 
 
 You will observe, my dear sir, that pain and pleasure in 
 the musical world, as well as elsewhere, are pretty fairly and 
 evenly balanced. 
 
 My pleasure in Vera Cruz, let me candidly own it, was 
 my Chorus, while my Orchestra was my pain. 
 
 When Forti perchance saw Salvi, who was singing in the 
 Chorus, called for and more applauded than he himself was, 
 he would meet my glance of triumph boldly, and cast a look 
 at my Orchestra. He saw me working With my two assist- 
 ants for the whole of it, and at once recovered his equa- 
 nimity. Did I feel inclined to curse my stars for having 
 condemned me to the piano, as I thumped away on it night 
 after night, I would gaze on Beneventano's sufferings at feel- 
 ing that the artists in the Chorus gathered more applause 
 than he did, and feel, for the moment, completely reconciled 
 to my labors. As for the public, they taught me one great 
 lesson. This is, that the adaptation of your means to your 
 end is the great and, indeed, the only secret of success. That 
 which might succeed in Vera Cruz, would not be fitted for 
 Mexico. Did you produce anything which paid in New 
 York, that very thing would succeed, with half the means, in 
 Natchez or in Pittsburg. A section of the talent requisite 
 for success in London or Paris, will ensure it in Bordeaux or 
 Liverpool. This, if I had known before, I had never had it 
 so clearly and so indisputably thrust upon me, as it was in 
 the performances which I made money by, in Vera Cruz. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 297 
 
 But, during our stay in this city, I received important in- 
 telligence (at least so it was to a musical man) from New 
 York. Two new Operatic companies were performing in 
 that city. 
 
 The one of these was under the management of Madame 
 Sontag. The other was under the direction of Marshall 
 of the Broadway Theatre. In this company, Madame Alboni 
 was the prima donna. But Sontag, as well as Alboni her- 
 self, had committed the fatal mistake which had marked the 
 advent of Catherine Hayes under the regime of Mr. Ward- 
 well. Saving and excepting the two prima donnas them- 
 selves, neither of the companies contained the slightest point 
 of any attraction. 
 
 Thinking over this, I foresaw that good vocalists, and by a 
 necessary ratio, far more great artists would be in demand in 
 New York. 
 
 This would be more necessarily the case with Salvi and 
 Marini. 
 
 On the other hand, it would be far from advisable for me 
 to embark in an opposition to these two companies. They 
 had, in fact, completely occupied the ground which I had 
 vacated. But if I myself, with Salvi and Marini, were to 
 join either of these parties, it was evident to me that the 
 other must be crushed by the additional weight thrown into 
 the opposite scale. These reflections determined me, there- 
 fore, to start for New York a few days in advance of my 
 troupe, for the purpose of coming to an understanding with 
 the management of either the Sontag or Alboni party, pre- 
 vious to the arrival of my artists. Accordingly, a condi- 
 tional arrangement was entered into between Salvi and 
 Marini and myself, for the proximate six months ; and it was 
 agreed that I should leave for the commercial and intellec- 
 tual capital of the United States, immediately. 
 13* 
 
298 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 In accordance with this arrangement, I took twenty-seven 
 passages in the steamer Albatross, for New York, and pro- 
 vided each person with his ticket. Then, after liquidating 
 their hotel-bills up to the time of my departure, I requested 
 them to divide the receipts on their last performances among 
 themselves, in the proportion of their respective salaries. 
 
 Having settled these matters, I prepared myself to take 
 my departure in the English steamer for Havana. Thence, 
 I could easily reach the city in which I am, at the present 
 moment, residing. 
 
 But no sooner had this been settled, than with the natural 
 mistrust all Italians evince for those with whom they have 
 any business, a visible feeling of mefiance towards each other 
 rooted itself in almost the whole of that company which had 
 agreed so well together, under my management. Had you 
 then seen them, my good sir, you would have imagined that 
 each felt himself amongst a party of robbers. Even Signor 
 Beletti and Herr Kreutzer buttoned up their pockets, and 
 walked about with the settled conviction that they were about 
 to be plundered. Indeed, on the day previous to my leaving, 
 almost every member of the troupe came to ask for a few mo- 
 ments of private conversation with me. Naturally, I was 
 forced to accord it to them. "What was my surprise, to find 
 that each of them had visited me on that morning, to reveal 
 to my ears their opinions of their brother artists, and to dis- 
 close to me the deplorable state in which the affairs of the 
 Company would be left upon my departure. Every one of 
 them told me that unavoidable anarchy would reign amongst 
 them. Each of them told me that everybody would wish, 
 and, what was more, would attempt to make himself the mas- 
 ter. They all agreed that not one of the whole party would 
 be inclined to obey any of the others. Then, each one pointed 
 out to me, those bad qualities in every one of the others, which 
 
OPEEA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 299 
 
 would positively unfit him for having the management con- 
 fided to him. This one was much too quarrelsome. That 
 one was a fool. One was too timid, and another was too 
 easy. Here was one who would swindle, and there was an- 
 other who would be swindled by everybody. Having settled 
 this to their own satisfaction, all of them requested me to 
 name my representative, and to give this said representative 
 a power of attorney to take the receipts and make a fair divi- 
 sion of them. 
 
 Need I tell you, that each one of them represented himself 
 as the best man to carry on the business, and to care for the 
 money. , 
 
 These asseverations and insinuations convinced me that 
 anarchy was indeed likely to reign amongst them. But, on 
 the other side, I knew if I gave a power of attorney to any 
 one of them, that a musical revolution would break out in the 
 company in less than twenty-four hours, and the said attorney 
 would most inevitably be deposed. The choice for me, as 
 their Manager, lay between two evils; when, it suddenly 
 struck me that as every one of them was interested in their 
 joint success, it might be possible, by a little trick, to force 
 them, not only by their pecuniary interests, but by a certain 
 feeling of shame, to agree as well as Italian vocalists could 
 agree, together. 
 
 Therefore, I gave to every person who asked it, a power 
 of attorney to represent me, and to carry on the Opera 
 " together with the other members of the company'' during my 
 absence, until the period of their own departure in the 
 Albatross. ■ 
 
 At the same time, I strictly enjoined on each of them the 
 necessity of keeping the fact a secret until' my departure, 
 which was to take place on the following day, as I believe I 
 have earlier observed. 
 
300 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Had I been present when they all met at Eehearsal, some 
 two hours subsequent to my steaming out of the harbor of 
 Vera Cruz, candidly is it my belief, that the Epitaph on Max 
 Maretzek would contain the assertion that he " quitted this 
 life, in consequence of a paroxysm of laughter." It must 
 have been delicious to see the first of them take his authori- 
 zation, to act as my representative, out of his pocket. Could 
 you then have noticed his oblique stare of utter horror, when 
 a second thrust his own, under his nose ? Salvi would have 
 been worth painting, as an epitome of vocal dignity, when he 
 quietly moved up the stage with his power of attorney buried 
 in the depths of his own pocket, from which by the merest 
 chance he had not been the first to draw it ; while Herr 
 Kreutzer's intense disgust at finding himself only sharing 
 that power, the whole of which he had craved, would have 
 been an example of outraged feeling of the most admirable 
 kind. 
 
 At any rate, the lesson had a decidedly good result. Some 
 complaints were made me, when I saw them. But these were 
 not urged against me ; they "were directed against each other. 
 
 Shame was too powerful with them to permit them to re- 
 monstrate. They knew that I had exhibited no unjustifiable 
 mistrust of them. Feeling that I had been right, they did 
 not dare make my action with regard to them a cause for 
 quarrel with me, when they afterwards arrived in this city. * 
 Consequently, their momentary annoyance did not prove a fu- 
 ture bone of contention between us. 
 
 But I greatly fear that this letter may have already proved 
 too lengthy for you. Let me, therefore, further only mention 
 that I arrived here in capital health, and one week sooner 
 than the rest of my company. It was with a comparatively 
 unspeakable joy that I shook hands and took the customary 
 "drink" with the first friend whom I met on Broadway, on the 
 
OPERA MANAGEK IN AMEKICA. 301 
 
 first day of my return. However, as to the number of hands 
 offered me, and the number of " drinks" taken by me, the 
 deponent sayeth nothing. 
 
 Believe me, my dear sir, yours, 
 
 &c, &c, &c, &c, 
 
 Max Maeetzek. 
 
LETTER SEVENTH. 
 
 TO CARL ECKERT, 
 (Conductor at the Imperial Opera, Vienna.) 
 
 Madame Henrietta Sontag, Comtesse de Rossi — Her Career in the 
 United States — Her Death in Mexico. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 305 
 
 LETTEE VII. 
 
 TO CARL ECKERT, 
 (Conductor of the Imperial Opera, Vienna.) 
 
 New York, September 27th, 1855. 
 Good and Dear Friend : — 
 
 You will be, in all probability, astonished that I should 
 address the letter on which my pen is about to be employed, 
 to you. You wonder that I should prefix your name to the 
 pages in the present work, which refer to the career of. 
 Henrietta Sontag in this country. Nor is it very singular 
 that you should do so. In your younger years having been 
 her protege, and in subsequent ones, her faithful friend and 
 adviser — nay ! having accompanied her through the earlier 
 portion of her tour in this half of the globe, you will natu- 
 rally ask me what I can have to say about her, with which 
 you are not acquainted. 
 
 You will tell me, that you know more of Madame Sontag's 
 private as well as public career, than any other of her 
 musical friends can possibly do. This, dear Eckert, I can- 
 didly and willingly confess to you and my readers. 
 
 For this very reason is it, that to you, my present letter is 
 addressed. 
 
 You know all the great qualities of an artist, who, in her 
 own line, was well nigh unapproachable. You know all the 
 
306 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 excellencies of that noble-minded and heroic woman. It is 
 because you know that her return to the lyric stage was dic- 
 tated neither by ambition nor by cupidity, but by the simple 
 feelings of a wife faithful to the fortunes of her husband, and 
 a true-hearted and loving parent, that I have determined 
 upon addressing you in the present pages of my work. In 
 addition to this, the fact that you had quitted Madame Sontag 
 in New York, for the purpose of returning to Europe and 
 taking that situation or post which you now fill so worthily, 
 and had neither accompanied her to New Orleans or Mexico, 
 induces me to believe that you are not positively in- 
 formed, respecting that which took place during the last 
 months of her life. ' This, the more especially, from the 
 many partially absurd and conflicting rumors which have 
 been placed in circulation respecting her, whose Countess- 
 ship of Rossi may be considered as swallowed up by the 
 reputation acquired by Madame Sontag, from Mexico even 
 to St. Petersburg. 
 
 The object, therefore, which now places the pen in my 
 hand, is not so much to detail to you the events of her career 
 in this country as they are publicly and generally known. 
 
 It is rather to trace back . these rumors to their original 
 source, and to enlighten you on some of the actual facts 
 respecting them, which have come to my knowledge. Tjl 
 doing so, it may be feared that I dare not say all which I might 
 tell you, fearless as my nature naturally is. Suffice it, if, from 
 what I say, you can sufficiently gather the truth. When I 
 again meet you, believe me, that a candid answer shall be 
 given to every question which you may feel called upon to 
 address me. 
 
 The subject is a grave one.- If, therefore, I abstain from 
 coquetting with my pen as I have done in some of my 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 307 
 
 previous correspondence, let me express my conviction that 
 you will not blame me. . 
 
 It is no longer a Comedy of Human Life which I have to 
 describe, but a Drama with which I have to deal — a Drama 
 full of mournful interest, and with whose course of action 
 you are specially interested. In this letter, I shall not wish 
 to invite a smile upon your lips, by painting the vanity or 
 jealousy of the artists, or drawing with, I trust, no malicious 
 pen the innocent follies of their and mine would-be patrons. 
 On the contrary, it is a tear which I ask from you and my 
 other readersj over the grave of one of the greatest artists 
 and most accomplished women of her day. Be not astonished, 
 therefore, my dear Eckert, that I am serious, for I am about 
 to tell you some of the facts which are known by myself and 
 others, without fearing the consequences. The menaces 
 which have already found their way to my ears, since it was 
 known that I had determined to write upon this subject, will 
 not have the slightest influence upon me. 
 
 For you may rest assured that nothing shall be either 
 disturbed or distorted in my present letter. 
 
 On my return to Vera Cruz from Mexico, I found as I 
 have already told Mr. Gye, that two operatic companies 
 had been formed in New York. These were the companies 
 in which Madames Sontag and Alboni were the prime donne. 
 At the same time, I learned that Madame Sontag had taken 
 Mr. Bernard Ullmann, into her service as one of her musi- 
 cal agents. I was, let me own, considerably surprised at this. 
 It was extraordinary, and has always appeared so to me, that 
 such a noble and excellent woman, as Henrietta Sontag had 
 ever been, could consent to associate herself in any way with 
 the agent whom Henry Herz had dismissed from his service 
 in Mexico, whose ears had been boxed by another of his em- 
 
308 
 
 KEVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 ployers (this was Maurice Strakosch, whom it may be presumed 
 you are acquainted with) in Havana, whose back had been 
 scored by a cow-hide in the hands of Benedetti when in Bal- 
 timore, and who had been condignly kicked out of the Astor 
 Place Opera House, by Mr. E. Martin, then the treasui'er of 
 that establishment, for an offence which not being at all 
 necessitated to allude to, I shall here refrain from naming. 
 
 Remember, my dear Eckert, that I by no means enter an 
 apology for the man who would so far forget himself, as to 
 lay his hand on such a defenceless person as the aforesaid 
 Bernard Ullmann. This fact is only adduced to show that 
 each of the persons who had punished him for his conduct, 
 in this violent and personal manner, has been either his 
 employer or superior (as much as any one can be the 
 superior of another, in the only free country in the world) 
 in position or talent. Par consequence, it is evident that 
 such a person could neither be a valuable nor a peaceful 
 agent. 
 
 Since this time, it has been told me that Mr. Ullmann in 
 anticipation of the announced arrival of Sontag on a profes- 
 sional visit to this country, had implored a letter of intro- 
 duction and recommendation to her, from the Editor of the 
 Herald. Mr. Bennett, in pure commiseration of Ullmann's 
 then somewhat precarious situation, had furnished him with 
 one. Madame Sontag on receiving this letter, with the view, 
 in all probability, of obliging such a powerful protector of her 
 interests as Mr. Bennett afterwards proved himself in more 
 instances than- one, consented to engage him as her agent. 
 But had Mr. Bennett known the consequences of that letter, 
 he would never have given it. Nor, had Madame Sontag 
 then imagined what was to .be the result of her engaging 
 him, would she have thought of obliging Mr. Bennett. 
 
OPEEA HANAGEK IN AMERICA. 309 
 
 At all events, let me confess to you, my beloved friend, 
 that the fact of this person having been taken by Madame 
 Sontag as her agent, had occupied my mind during the whole 
 of my brief passage from Vera Cruz to Havana. 
 
 When I at length arrived there, letters were awaiting 
 me from my correspondents in New York. • 
 
 Amongst these were some of the circulars, as well as 
 Journals containing the Bills and advertised 'programme of 
 the Sontag troupe. 
 
 In these, I at once recognized her agent's style of thought 
 and peculiarities of expression. Indeed, upon perusing the 
 circulars, was I the more especially and painfully struck by 
 the over-drawn and cringing style of flattery with which he 
 appealed to the taste of the New York public, as well as the 
 excessive servility with which he spoke of their well-known 
 liberality. 
 
 Experience had, long since;, very clearly taught me that a 
 short and straight-forward course, the more particularly on 
 bringing before it such undeniable and indisputable talent as 
 that of Henrietta Sontag was, would have a much more pro- 
 found effect with the general population both of New York 
 and the United States. Therefore, I not unnaturally regret- 
 ted the unmistakable error which had been made by her in 
 permitting such a class of appeal to be put forth, under her 
 name, for the universal dollar. 
 
 As, in the afternoon, I was walking through the streets of 
 Havana, my thoughts were still upon the same subject, when 
 in passing by a book-store my eyes involuntarily fell upon a 
 pamphlet. 
 
 Upon its title-page, I saw a name. This name was no 
 other than Bernard Ullmann. 
 
 Let me honestly confess to you, that for the moment my 
 
310 
 
 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 mind could scarcely credit mine own eyes. Never before had 
 my brain suspected him to be anything of an author. In 
 doubt, I turned away my head, supposing it to be some 
 species of mental jugglery or an optical delusion. A second 
 time did I turn towards the windows of the store, and look at 
 the" pamphlet. The name was still there. For a third time 
 did I gaze upon it but, each time, I read the following in- 
 scription palpably set forth upon the title-page : 
 
 " Diez Anos de Musica * 
 
 EN 
 
 Los Estados Unidos 
 
 Poe Bernardo Ullmann 
 
 Habana 
 
 Imprenta de Antonio Davila 
 
 1852" 
 
 * 
 Eushing into the store, I bought half a dozen copies of it, 
 
 and casting my eyes over its contents ere I again emerged 
 into the street, I saw sufficient touching Henry Herz, Sivori, 
 Max Maretzek, Parodi and others, to confirm me in the be- 
 lief that this pamphlet was written by no other than the 
 
 * I subjoin the translation for those who cannot read Spanish, 
 
 Ten Years of Music 
 
 in 
 
 The United States 
 
 By Bernard Ullmann 
 
 Havana 
 
 Printed by Antonio Davila 
 
 1852 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 311 
 
 very individual upon whom my thoughts had recently been 
 running. 
 
 In order, however, to be perfectly sure, before quitting the 
 store I inquired of its owner — 
 
 " Who is the author of this brochure ?" 
 
 " Senor," said the man, " you see his name upon the title- 
 page." 
 
 " But what Bernard Ullmann is it?" 
 
 " The agent of Senor Sfcrakosch and the Senorita Parodi 
 who visited Havana during the last Spring," was his very clear 
 reply. 
 
 Having thus ascertained, beyond the possibility of any 
 doubt, who this Bernardo Ullmann, whose name stood upon 
 its title-page, really was, I began to read the pamphlet after 
 my return to my Hotel, whither I immediately hurried back 
 as fast as my legs would carry me. 
 
 The first Chapter bears this title — 
 
 " Los Americanos * 
 
 T SU GUSTO POR LA MTJSICA." 
 
 On the table beside me, were still lying the circulars which 
 I had previously mentioned as containing suchjover-drawn 
 flatteries of the New York public and their musical taste. In 
 my hands, I held a pamphlet written by him in Spanish, or 
 published at all events by his authority and with his name 
 appended to it. This last abounded with abuse and slander 
 levelled against and written of the public of New York, espe- 
 cially, and the American people, generally. For your edifi- 
 cation and their judgment, I design giving a few extracts 
 from this publication, specifying the fact that I still retain a 
 
 ' * The Americans and their musical taste. 
 
312 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 copy of it in my hands, for the benefit of any Spanish scholar 
 among my friends in this country who may wish to peruse it. 
 On the second page may be found the following sen- 
 tences : — 
 
 ** " La grande estrella literaria de la Inglaterra, el illustro 
 Shakespeare, escribio hace doscientos afios estas graves y 
 veridicas palabras : ? El hombre que no posee musica en su 
 alma, es apto para la traicion." Se esta frase del gran genio 
 Ingles encerase una completa verdad, podria llegarse a creer 
 que los Americanos son aptos para toda clase de traiciones, 
 porche: tiene algo de musica el alma del ADglo- Americano." 
 
 Now, Don Bernardo Ullmann, the Spanish author, or at 
 all events the gentleman who has prefixed his name to this 
 very remarkable brochure, hereby declares that the American 
 people are fitted for any kind of treason, or, at any rate, he 
 rather more than implies it. 
 
 But Mr. Bernard Ullmann, previously to her death, Ma- 
 dame Sontag^ principal agent, was a naturalized American. 
 
 Would he, therefore, have the world (or, should I not say, 
 his readers, for that the world and his readers are entirely 
 different classes of the community, is sufficiently evident by 
 the fact that he can yet remain in New York) believe that he 
 had willingly and wantonly affiliated himself upon a nation 
 of traitors ? 
 
 ** " The great literary star of England, the illustrious Shakespeare, 
 some two hundred years since wrote these serious and true words — 
 " The man that hath not music in his soul 
 Is fit for treason." 
 If this phrase of the great English genius contains a complete truth, 
 it may lead us to believe that the Americans are fitted for-every class 
 of treason, for the reason that the soul of the Anglo-American contains 
 no taste for music. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 313 
 
 Kemember, my dear Eckert, that this very American 
 people whom this Hungarian speaks of in the foregoing 
 ungrateful terms, have given him a, by no means, grudging 
 hospitality — a hospitality which has been demonstrated to- 
 wards myself and thousands upon thousands of Europeans 
 who have settled upon their shores — a hospitality, which I 
 am proud to say, the larger portion of us most thankfully 
 and gratefully acknowledge. For ten years previous to that 
 publication, they had received ( ! ) and fed ( ! ) and clothed 
 ( ! ) this identical individual from Hungary. Who is there, 
 allow me to ask you, in reading these lines, that will not 
 remember the tale of the peasant, who, having picked up a 
 half-frozen snake, restored it to life by the warmth of his own 
 fire. No sooner was it recovered, than it began to hiss and 
 protrude its fangs at its benefactor. 
 
 " Oh, ho ! you brute ! " quoth the peasant, " if it is thus 
 you repay my benefits, the sooner I put you out of the way 
 the better.'' 
 
 But again, on the third page of Don Bernardo Ullmann's 
 grateful lucubration, you can read the following : — 
 
 " Anadase a esto, que la inmensa inmigracion Europea 
 trae consigo el amor y la comprension de la musica, pero, no 
 obstante esto, los Americanos estan colocados, respecto a 
 gusto musical algunos escalones mas bajos que sus padres los 
 Ingleses."* 
 
 But, allow me to ask you, how you can, imagine that the 
 aforesaid. Don Bernardo Ullmann can reconcile it to his own 
 musical soul to remain in such a barbarously unmusical 
 country, as he seems to consider the United States ? Why 
 
 * " In addition to this, the immense European emigration bears with 
 it the love and comprehension of music, yet, in spite of it, the Ameri- 
 cans stand, with respect to musical taste, a few degrees lower than their 
 
 parents the English." 
 
 14 
 
314 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 does lie so perseveringly try to become a Manager amongst 
 such a tasteless and barbarous nation as tliat people, of which 
 I am proud to own myself an adopted son, are, according to 
 his views of them ? Why is it that he has not betaken him- 
 self to England, where, according to his opinion, they stand 
 a few steps higher upon the ladder of musical taste ? Or 
 why, my dear Eckert, is it, that he has not taken up his abode 
 in Havana, among the Cuban Creoles whom un-musical Marty 
 was compelled to force into Operatic patronage ? From his 
 pamphlet, it may be presumed, that he, Don Bernardo Ull- 
 mann, attributes to them the highest degree of musical taste. 
 Almost immediately after, may be found the following 
 wholesale slander upon the American public : — 
 
 " Non hay effecto sin causa. Qual es la causa de esta im- 
 perfeccion en la organizacion musical de los Anglo- Ameri- 
 canos ? La primera y principal consiste en el desenfrenado 
 amor que profesan a su venerado dollard, adorado sobre to- 
 das las cosas de este mundo y del otro ! Dinero ! La ex- 
 istencia del Anglo-Americano esta toda consagrada, desde 
 antes que nace, kasta despues que se muere, a la adquisicion 
 de su Unico Dios."* 
 
 By this quotation, you will see what estimation the Spanish 
 writer, Don Bernardo Ullmann, places on the mental and 
 moral nature of the American nation. Who, after reading 
 this, will fancy that an American can venerate and love his 
 parents, wife, children, or friends ? Give him a dollar. He 
 adores that alone. Who will, after reading this, on your side 
 
 * " There is no effect without a cause. What is the cause of this 
 imperfection in the musical organization of the Anglo-Americans % The 
 first and principal consists in the unbridled love that they profess to their 
 venerated dollar, adored beyond all things in this world and the other. 
 Money ! The existence of the Americans is consecrated, from before his 
 birth until after his death, to the acquisition of his only God." 
 
OPEBA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 315 
 
 of the world (if indeed, any one has read or will read it) 
 will believe that the American can adore his country, and 
 the patriots who with their blood and brain stamped out its 
 Constitution ? Give him a dollar. He worships that alone. 
 Who will, for a moment, imagine that any American can be- 
 lieve in a Creator or trust in the immortality of his own 
 soul ? Does not Don Bernardo Ullmann declare, that the 
 whole existence of the American is consecrated from before 
 his birth until after his death, to the acquisition of his only 
 God — money ? 
 
 It may be considered a curious metaphysical fact, my dear 
 friend, that this man should thus judge of the nature of the 
 Americans. 
 
 The first person which a new-born baby ordinarily recog- 
 nizes, is the one which nourishes and cares for it, whether that 
 person be the wet-nurse or its mother. From this fact, it 
 has naturally been deduced, that gratitude is the first senti- 
 ment or instinctive feeling which is enkindled in the soul of 
 man. Gratitude is imbibed with the milk which nourishes 
 the infant and animates the ljuman heart, long ere the sense 
 of religion is awakened, which is neither more nor less than 
 a simply more holy and reverential form of gratitude towards 
 Him to whose "Will we owe our existence. 
 
 How then is it, that a man who owes his very means of 
 living to the American nation — who has again and again 
 returned to these shores to speculate upon their tastes and 
 good-will, both towards himself and those artists for whom he 
 has been acting, can be so utterly lost to that feeling which 
 may almost be regarded as universal amongst mankind, as 
 malignantly and unnecessarily to debase their character in 
 the eyes of the Cuban Creole ? Was it, perchance, that he 
 was then speculating upon the feelings which he must have 
 known to exist amongst the Spanish officials of the island of 
 
316 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 Havana with regard to the American nation ? No gentleman 
 is there, either in this or in the other half of the world, who 
 would willingly suppose this. Was it that he did not really 
 think what he was then writing, but simply displayed his own 
 diseased appetite for the dollar (!) in his own person ? No 
 gentleman is there who would wish to conceive that this might 
 be the case. 
 
 Be it sufficient, Eckert, for ourselves, that I will not pre- 
 tend to determine. 
 
 You know as well, or perchance far better than I do, that 
 in the kingdom of Hungary, that land which has the honor 
 of claiming him as one of its children, every offence commit- 
 ted, whether in speech, print, or act, against its sovereign, 
 your own Emperor, is condignly punished with the dungeon 
 or with the rope. But I would have you, my good Eckert 
 (provided, that you dare do so) proclaim in Vienna as a proof 
 of the magnanimity of the American people, that the very 
 man who has thus slandered 25,000,000 of the American 
 rulers of their own soil, walks about upon it, amongst them, 
 and draws money out of their pockets, unnoticed, unmolested, 
 and literally uncared for. 
 
 Be patient, my good friend, and excuse me if I once more 
 trespass upon your time with another quotation. Here 
 it is: 
 
 " Como pedir, que lloren ante un tierno adagio, los ojos y 
 el corazon que solo saben llorar quando un negocio sale mal, 
 y cuando se escapa el dollard que pensaban adquirir? Que 
 es para un Americano una partitura de Bellini, de Auber, de 
 Mayerbeer, en comparacion con el armonico libro mayor, que 
 canta en su ultima pagina una ganancia de miles de pesos. 
 Es Verdi comerciante, 6 siquicera director de una compania 
 de seguros ? Ha sido Mayerbeer, alguna vez, director de 
 un Banco, 6 de una sociedad anonima ? No ! Pues, c6mo 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 317 
 
 tienen la insolencia de aspiraraque el ciudadino Anglo-Amer- 
 icano se detenga a pensar en ellos un solo momente ? " * 
 
 It may reasonably be presumed from the singularly accu- 
 rate mode in which the worthy and most scrupulous Don 
 Bernardo Ullman here guages American feeling, that no citi- 
 zen of this country, whether a Yankee or a Southerner, could 
 weep, supposing the Cuban Spaniards to attempt the an- 
 nexation of the States to their own island, provided that they 
 left him the "harmonic" account jotted down at the bottom 
 of his balance sheet. Neither, my beloved Eckert, do I can- 
 didly, all things considered, think that they would be inclined 
 to do so. Tears would, very certainly, not be shed upon this 
 occasion. On the contrary, my supposition is that some long- 
 legged Kentuckian, or a swift-footed hunter from the upper 
 end of Lake Superior, would step down for a moment to in- 
 quire into the matter. Should he, by any chance, find that 
 the Spaniards were at all disposed to be troublesome, why, 
 without giving them any time to annoy us, he would simply 
 " squat" the life out of Havana with the butt-end of his rifle. 
 Having done so, he would once more return to his forest- 
 home, and forget in the course of the following month the 
 mission which he had taken upon himself, and so easily 
 accomplished. 
 
 But, my good friend, you will also see that the Spanish 
 
 * " How can you ask for tears from those eyes to a tender adagio 
 which only know how to shed them when a speculation turns out badly, 
 or when the dollar they had expected to acquire, escapes them 1 Let 
 an American be shown a production by Bellini, by Auber, or by Meyer- 
 beer, side by side with that book which shows on its balance-sheet the 
 harmonious sum total of thousands on thousands ! Is Verdi a merchant 
 or director of a company 1 Has Meyerbeer at any time been the Presi- 
 dent of a Bank, or the head of some society of brokers \ No ! Then 
 how can you have the insolence to imagine that the beforesaid Anglo- 
 American can waste his time in thinking upon them a single moment 1 " 
 
318 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Don Bernardo also thinks proper to inquire of trie Cuban 
 how he can have the insolence to believe that an Anglo- 
 American (with what a consummate insolence does he bestow 
 this name upon the nation of which he has become a part ; 
 might not the Englishman as well be called the Norman- 
 Angle, or the Frenchman the Gascon-Breton ?) can waste his 
 time in thinking upon the works of .such maestri or Bellini, 
 Verdi, or Meyerbeer, even for a single moment. 
 
 Permit me, my dear Eckert, to grant him that this may be 
 the case. 
 
 But let me tell him, and you also, that the men who are 
 building up the power of a greater nation than the world has 
 yet seen — a nation which, as yet, has by no means stridden 
 into its full manhood — may be very fairly excused, if they 
 cannot find time to abandon to the cultivation of the mere 
 graces of life. 
 
 Yet you have been amongst us, and know that these 
 graces are cultivated; and this with neither a niggard nor 
 grudging hand. 
 
 Our Spanish preceptor, Don Bernardo Ullmann, would 
 seem to forget that the artistic thought of the United States 
 is at the present moment engaged in developing itself through 
 the female half of the population. Nor am I by any means 
 suggesting a new idea in stating that it is so. The ladies in 
 this country are the real amateurs and patrons of our own 
 Art. In the hands of woman is it, that more than one-half of 
 the literary talent of the United States develops itself. Do 
 not, for one moment, imagine that I am drawing upon my 
 imagination for these facts. While such women as Mrs. Sig- 
 ourney, Mrs. Beecher Stowe, Alice Carey, Mrs. Anne Ste- 
 phens, and scores of others almost as great, may be found scat- 
 tered on every side around you — while there is scarcely a 
 single Journal, whether in the North or South, which has not 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 319 
 
 counted or does not count a female pen amongst its contribu- 
 tors, it may be felt that I am putting forward no startling 
 truth, and advancing no unknown fact. 
 
 It may be possible (mind, I simply state that it may be 
 possible, for I by no means undertake to reason philosophi- 
 cally upon it) that the genius of production does not so fully 
 and completely develop itself in the female intellect, as it does 
 in the male. 
 
 Yet the genius of appreciation does so, even more thoroughly 
 and readily. This works with a two-fold influence upon the 
 development of the national intellect. 
 
 Thus, by a singularly wise and admirable compensation of 
 nature, while the male portion of the stamina of this country 
 has been almost solely engaged upon the task of maturing 
 and increasing that colossal strength and earnest vigor which 
 have more than quintupled themselves, at the least, within 
 the" last twenty years, its female section has been performing 
 a labor to the full as valuable, although its results are at pres- 
 ent scarcely as fully evident as they will be in the course of 
 another score of years. It has done its share of the work of 
 national progress in maturing and encouraging the growth 
 of its more refined tastes. 
 
 The fact is, my good friend, that Bellini's "Norma" hasnever 
 yet failed to attract a large audience, whenever it has been 
 given in America. Yet this, and the knowledge that Meyer- 
 beer's Operas, and even Verdi's, have been hailed with en- 
 thusiasm in New York whenever produced, proves nothing 
 to Don Bernardo Ullmann. In his belief the American is, 
 as he implies in this pamphlet, a barbarian, a traitor, and 
 also an atheist. 
 
 But, where was it that the grateful Don Bernardo took it 
 upon himself to write thus ? 
 
 In the Island of Cuba. 
 
320 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 For whom was it that he thought proper to write thus ? 
 
 For the Spaniards ! Mind me, I do not say for the Cuban 
 Creoles. 
 
 Against whom did he write thus ? 
 
 Against the very nation of whom he had, himself, long 
 since become an adopted citizen. 
 
 Allow me to say, my good Eckert, that it appears to me 
 Don Bernardo Ullmann himself would seem to have been a 
 far more intense and baser devotee of the " dollar" than any 
 American I have yet had the chance of encountering. The 
 man who could, in his hunger, sell his birthright to his 
 brother for a mess of potage (it was Esau, if I remember 
 rightly, was it not ?) scarcely seems, at least in my eyes, to 
 have even approximated to his degree of fleshly and creature- 
 worship. 
 
 But I feel that I have been wandering from the intents 
 aad purposes of this letter. 
 
 You, unlike myself, are not a citizen of this country, and 
 consequently, cannot feel the same interest in these matters 
 which they excite in my mind. 
 
 Let me, therefore, return to that subject which I have told 
 you it was my intention to write upon. 
 
 After my arrival in New York from Havana, it was with 
 infinite regret that the conviction was more completely forced 
 upon me than it had before been, that my apprehensions re- 
 specting the management of Madame Sontag's Operatic 
 concerns, and the part which she would be made to play in 
 them, had been unfortunately correct. 
 
 It will be scarcely necessary for me to recall to your re- 
 collection the manner in which that unfortunate lady was 
 one evening intruded upon, between the Acts of one of those 
 Operas with which she was gratifying the public, by an officer 
 of the law. This officer handed her a summons to appear and 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 821 
 
 answer the claim of a Chorus-singer, against one of her agents 
 for the paltry sum of $15, which was owing to him. Justly 
 indignant that she should have been subjected to this, Madame 
 Sontag immediately sent for the individual. You will under- 
 stand that I allude to the agent and not to the Chorus-singer. 
 
 " Why do you not pay this man ?" was the inquiry of 
 Madame Sontag. 
 
 " Because the affair will do no harm to our business, 
 Madame la UomtesseJ" 
 
 " How ?" 
 
 " If Madame la •Comtesse were to appear a few times in 
 the courts — " 
 
 " But I have no desire to do so.'' 
 
 " It would decidedly increase the curiosity of the public 
 respecting her vocal abilities." 
 
 " That man must be paid." 
 
 " I am quite aware, Madame la Comtesse, that you must 
 pay him, because the money is due to him." 
 
 " Then, why not pay him at once ?" 
 
 " If Madame la Comtesse were to appear in court, it 
 would make the affair a town-talk !" 
 
 " I have no desire to do so." 
 
 "Jenny Lind appeared in court, Madame la Comtesse. 
 This was one of the secrets of Mr. Barnum's mode of 
 management. He was a singularly talented man.'' 
 
 "But I tell you that' I do not wish to appear there, 
 sir." 
 
 " But, Madame — " 
 
 " I believe that I may succeed in America, without the 
 public scandal of refusing to pay one of my Chorus-singers 
 $15 which are due to him, as you state yourself." 
 
 "You are mistaken, Madame la Comtesse! Scandal 
 14* 
 
822 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 is the system and secret of all management in the United 
 States." 
 
 It was, .therefore, of no earthly use to her, that Madame 
 Sontag's own sense of honor and ladjlike uprightness re- 
 volted at her agent's dictation. She was obliged to consent 
 to be led from one District Court-room to another, to endure 
 the curious stares and listen to all that was said respecting 
 her, by the crowd, whom the rumor of this case had drawn 
 together. The miserable Chorus-singer who was, as it hap- 
 pened, the father of a large family, had to wait several 
 months for his small one week's salary. This he only re- 
 ceived through my mediation, when, several months subse- 
 quently, Henrietta Sontag sung with me in the then summer 
 Opera House of New York — Castle Garden, which has 
 recently been converted into a depdt for the poorer class of 
 emigrants. 
 
 You will also remember, my dear friend, how one of her 
 agents used her name upon all and every occasion. How he 
 would drag her into all manner of newspaper disputes, simply 
 that he might seize upon the occasion of associating his own 
 name in the public eye with hers, as the agent of Madame 
 la Oomtesse. An admirable association was it, indeed. Such 
 might it have been, if the blind bard of Greece had linked 
 Euterpe together with his own invention, the mal-formed 
 buffoon Thersites. 
 
 In all probability, you have not yet lost the recollection of 
 a certain agent's bitter animosity against yourself and Poz- 
 zolini, simply, because you could not and would not debase 
 yourselves so far as to appear to be on friendly terms with 
 him. 
 
 The contemptible intrigues may recur to your memory 
 which he excited and constantly fomented around you, 
 because Henrietta Sontag, with the strong sense of justice 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 323 
 
 which was so marked a feature in her character, and a true 
 and intuitive feeling of artistic fraternity, preferred both 
 yourself and Pozzolini to him. You may remember how 
 continually she was obliged to interpose and defend you 
 against the machinations of this agent The fact will also 
 present itself to you, when I recall it, that Madame Sontag, 
 worn out by her imposed submission to the trickery and 
 manceuvering of one of her agents, and weary of lend- 
 ing her name to him in his constant quarrels with everything 
 and everybody, had at length determined upon his dismissal. 
 When she had finally and completely decided upon this, her 
 husband, the Count Rossi, was requested by her to call upon 
 him and inform him that his services were no longer neces- 
 sary to her. In other words, he was requested to give him 
 his dismissal. 
 
 All this, my dear Eckert, you doubtless know as well or 
 far better than I am able to tell you. But there is one part 
 of the tale which you are unacquainted with. This I intend 
 to impart to you. It will afford you some information re- 
 specting the interview between the Count Rossi and the 
 individual in question, which it is improbable — or may I 
 not say, impossible — that you should have yet received. 
 
 At first, their conversation was conducted with considerable 
 quietude. It may be presumed, that during this time, the 
 Count stated to this person that Madame Sontag had deter- 
 mined upon dismissing him. However, after having retained 
 a fair regard for the proprieties until this point in their inter- 
 view, the agent got warmer and finally fell into a passion. 
 In this, he was imitated by the Count. They got warmer and 
 warmer, until they at last screamed and vituperated so loudly, 
 that four individuals who chanced to be in the next room, 
 only separated from them by a closet, were enabled to hear 
 every word which passed between them. 
 
324 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Towards you, my good friend, this agent thought proper to 
 use the most bitter and abusive terms. 
 
 As a gentleman, the Count Rossi actually and absolutely 
 refused to listen to him. 
 
 Finding himself foiled in this attempt to injure you, in his 
 anxiety to keep his situation, or, at all events if he failed to do 
 so, to achieve all the mischief which lay within his power, he 
 uttered a gross and infamous slander against one of the purest 
 and most noble of women. Need I further explain what was 
 the slander uttered by this man, in the very face of Henrietta 
 Sontag's husband ? I feel that it is unnecessary to do so. It 
 would merely be to soil the name of a great and noble artist, 
 by repeating that which none who knew her could believe'. 
 While the Count remained mute and horror-stricken at hear- 
 ing this atrocious falsehood, the agent in question had the 
 further audacity to tell him, that either Pozzolini and your- 
 self must be at once discharged, or that he, the agent aforesaid, 
 would take it upon himself to make known and circulate this 
 slander — a slander which in all probability was his own inven- 
 tion, as he was, very certainly, the first person who had given 
 it utterance. 
 
 Without having known this, you, my dear Eckert, will 
 remember what followed upon this skilful invention (so he, 
 doubtless, considered it) of his genius. 
 
 The Count Rossi returned home, of course not believing 
 him ; but felt himself weak enough to take those measures 
 which had been imposed upon him. 
 
 You, yourself, shortly after this left for Germany, while 
 Pozzolini accepted an engagement in Arditi's troupe, then 
 about starting in a Southern direction. 
 
 Neither was this person (not knowing that the major por- 
 tion of his conversation with Count Rossi had been overheard) 
 able to refrain from boasting of that act which he had effected 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 825 
 
 by so base a slander. Some few days afterwards, he was 
 heard valuing himself in the presence of several gentlemen, 
 upon that which he had done. He did not, however, dare to 
 tell his hearers of the means by which it had been effected. 
 He said, simply, that he had driven you out of America, and 
 had forced Pozzolini to retire from the Company which he 
 managed for Henrietta Sontag. Furthermore, he announced 
 to all who chose to listen to him, that Madame la Gomtesse 
 was absolutely forced to retain him as her agent against her 
 own wishes, as both she and the Count — her husband — dread- 
 ed the power of his pen, and his influence with the Press. 
 
 When, at length, unable any longer to support his presence, 
 Madame Sontag found herself at New Orleans, she, with her 
 husband's concurrence, gave him a large sum of money and 
 sent him to Europe. His mission was, ostensibly, to engage 
 some new artists. Her design was purely to get rid of him. 
 Henrietta Sontag, whose feelings had been so deeply wounded 
 by his slanderous imputations, declined visibly in health pre- 
 vious to the time at which she, meanwhile, having accepted 
 an engagement to visit Mexico and sing there, departed for 
 that country. 
 
 While there — but, No ! — 
 
 There is not the slightest need that I should inform you of 
 that which subsequently took place. 
 
 You know, and so does everybody who takes any interest 
 in the career of such a great vocalist as Henrietta Sontag had 
 been, and then was, that she died while in Mexico. She died 
 of Cholera. Rossi, Beretta, and three others of the Company 
 also died of Cholera. Poor Pozzolini, who had also got an 
 engagement given him by M. Masson, who carried the com- 
 pany to Mexico, also died there. He died of Cholera. 
 
 Do you wish to know, Eckert, to whom in my own soul, I, 
 Max Maretzek, conscientiously and unhesitatingly attribute 
 this termination of her great and singularly brilliant career — 
 
326 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 a career which blossomed two-fold — once, when she had just 
 entered life, by the retiring figure of Pasta and at the side of 
 Malibran, and again, when Grisi was on the wane and Jenny 
 Lind had retired from the Operatic stage ? 
 
 Then — let me tell you. 
 
 When on the final day of Earthly life and Earthly strug- 
 gle — when the World no longer possesses any attractions for 
 our Souls, and wakened from our long sleep we stand be- 
 fore the Judgment Seat, to be valued by Him who weighs the 
 virtues and the misdeeds of Man, you will, I trust, be placed 
 on the right side of His Throne, along with those who have an 
 upright heart and a clear conscience. Then look around, and 
 let your eyes fall for a moment upon those who are standing 
 upon its left. When you remark amongst them, a pale and 
 abject being trembling at the chidings of his then awakened 
 Soul, and quivering with his fears — when you look upon a 
 shape which you may safely pronounce the most wretched in 
 that wretched group of wretched ones, then, Eckert, you may 
 safely exclaim — 
 
 " That is the man, whose cowardly tongue calumniated one 
 of the best and purest beings who had moved upon the 
 earth — Henrietta Sontag, the Countess of Rossi !" 
 
 Requiescat in pace. 
 
 Max Maretzek. 
 
MY POSTSCRIPT. 
 TO THE PUBLIC. 
 
 The Academy of Music — Five Chapters in its History — Its Manage- 
 ment — The Stockholder — A Word or Two respecting Myself. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 329 
 
 MY POSTSCRIPT. 
 
 TO THE PUBLIC. 
 
 New York, October 5th, 1855. 
 Mr very dear Public, 
 
 Whom, some three or four hundred pages since, my fingers 
 addressed with fear and trembling, in consideration of the task 
 which had been imposed upon them, allow me candidly to 
 state to you that if you have read thu3 much of my corres- 
 pondence, my natural terrors have all long since departed. 
 That man is neither more nor less than a fool, who finishes a 
 bottle of wine because he has paid for it, should it chance 
 either to be flat or corky. When he is seen emptying the 
 last glass, it may be concluded that he finds it of a fair flavor. 
 He who indues his upper man in an ill-fitting vest, or badly- 
 made pair of pantaloons, simply upon the score that he has 
 liquidated his tailor's bill, suffers his regard for economy to 
 trench pretty closely upon his personal comfort. Therefore is 
 it, that being enabled to talk with you on the present page, I 
 congratulate myself to discover that you have, without halt- 
 ing, travelled so far with me. In my conviction that it is so, 
 I lose much of my modesty — at the moment I am invisible to 
 you, and you cannot see my blushes. 
 
 With this introduction, you of course perceive, that I am 
 about to excuse myself. 
 
330 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 My original intention was to have written in detail, upon 
 the subject of the Academy of Music, to the gentleman or 
 Chevalier who performed the duties of Acting Manager dur- 
 ing the last season. Unfortunately, more than three hundred 
 and twenty ol the pages of the present volume have been en- 
 grossed by the material of my preceding letters. Conse- 
 quently, about twenty pages are all of it which remain to 
 me. Now, although the Academy of Music has scarcely as 
 yet stepped out of its nonage (having barely entered upon the 
 second year of its bona fide existence), its true and faithful 
 history would supply me with more than enough of the most 
 interesting material to fill, at least, another three hundred 
 pages. 
 
 The very history of its origin and the curiously conducted 
 negotiations respecting its first lease for its present purpose, 
 would be sufficient for an entire letter. 
 
 Madame Grisi's and Signor Mario's advent to this estab- 
 lishment, would yield me the matter for a second epistle. The 
 collateral advertisement of the personal charms of the latter 
 vocalist through the curious medium of Miss Coutts (?) and 
 the mis-management of that very excellent Falstqff, but sin- 
 gularly bad Operatic Manager — Mr. Hackett — would form 
 some of its most interesting details. 
 
 Neither would the determined folly of Ole Bull in becom 
 ing its lessee, with the view of making his debut as the savior 
 of Opera in this country, nor the manner in which his lawyer 
 so grandly mismanaged its affairs during the two weeks that 
 his principal continued at the head of them, fail to form a less 
 amusing chapter. Indeed, it may very safely be affirmed by 
 me, that it would constitute the most ludicrous of the three 
 which I have already mentioned. 
 
 Next, in order, would come the enterprise undertaken by 
 some of the principal stockholders. In this, the Chevalier, 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 331 
 
 Henry Wikoff himself, was the Acting Manager of the House 
 as well as of the Press. This would be to the full as crowded 
 with amusing incidents, as I trust that my tour through Mex- 
 ico has already proved itself. 
 
 Moreover, the arrival of the La Grange troupe, with their 
 provincial flight as far as Cincinnati and back again, would 
 constitute a fifth and capital letter. 
 
 But besides, that there is no room for me to do more than 
 • merely glance at all of these, there are other reasons which 
 induce me to refrain at present from speaking, at length, upon 
 all of them. No man can conscientiously become the histo- 
 rian of the time he is actually moving in. For instance, sup- 
 posing that I were to speak well and kindly of those gentle- 
 men who have been recently engaged in - Operatic manage- 
 ment, what would you say to me ? Not altogether unreason- 
 ably might you look one at the other, and exclaim — 
 
 " Ah ! Mr. Max Maretzek, you very certainly have a tol- 
 erably clear idea, as to which side your bread has recently 
 been buttered." 
 
 Were I, on the other hand, to choose to expose their mis- 
 management, you would undoubtedly say — 
 
 " Only see what an ungrateful and graceless varlet is Max 
 Maretzek. It is a pity he is not in California. There he 
 would be ' lynched' quickly enough." 
 
 Consequently, my respected Public, feeling tolerably cer- 
 tain that this would be your mode of viewing the matter, I 
 shall, for the present, most certainly refrain from giving you 
 any description of the detailed events of either of those letters 
 which have been indicated above. If you demand them, after 
 my frank expose of the motives which induce me to hesitate 
 upon giving them to you, why that is quite another thing. My 
 fault would then become yours. A servant of the Public, 
 however good friends he and his many-headed master may 
 
332 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 be, lias no choice but implicit obedience. Only, do I beg you 
 to remember that I, by no means, come forward to volunteer 
 them. 
 
 However, some few facts are there, upon which I may 
 speak without laying myself open to either the above sar- 
 casm or the latter charge. 
 
 One of these is the building of the Academy of Music. 
 Immediately after the closing of the Astor Place Opera 
 House through Donetti, his canine actors, and the astute man- 
 agerial agency of Mr. "William Niblo, the growing musical 
 taste of New York suggested the formation and building of a 
 new Opera House. A party of gentlemen, therefore, unactu- 
 ated by the desire of pecuniary gain, although they had un- 
 doubtedly no desire to throw away their loose cash, deter- 
 mined upon rearing a splendid edifice for the performance 
 of Operatic entertainments. Hence sprung the Academy of 
 Music. 
 
 Undoubtedly the musical profession to which I belong, as 
 well as yourself, my very good friend and patron the 
 public, are, in this respect, much indebted to the go-ahead and 
 business activity, as well as the love for Music displayed in 
 this instance by Messrs. Phalen and Coit — the latter of 
 which gentlemen has been a consistent friend of the Opera in 
 this country, from the time at which I first knew him. 
 
 Furthermore, it may be considered as a good sign of the 
 times with regard to the increased feeling for Art in the 
 United States, that the first appeal made by these gentlemen 
 to yourselves, brought them in applications for more than two 
 hundred subscriptions for stock. This alone might show, 
 were there no other evidence of it, that musical feeling 
 has made a prodigious stride in advance, since I first arrived 
 in my present country. Eachsubscriptionwasaccordinglymade 
 $1000, in amount, and they were limited to two hundred in 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 333 
 
 number. By these means $200,000 were- at once raised, 
 without either calling upon the aid of the Government or 
 taxing the people, as is generally done in Europe, when a 
 nation wishes to rear a Temple to the Muse of Song. 
 
 In addition to this, it is also worthy of remark, that where a 
 want of Managers, or, at all events, of such Managers whose 
 pecuniary responsibility was fitted for dealing with the inter- 
 ests of such an establishment, was felt by the stockholders, 
 one of them,* and subsequently, two others, f cawied- on the 
 . business of the Academy during almost the whole period of 
 its existence, and this in the one instance, entirely, and in the 
 other pretty nearly so, at their own personal risk and incon- 
 venience. 
 
 However, with the best of possible wills upon my part, 
 here is the commendation, that I have felt rejoiced to bestow, 
 obliged to terminate. 
 
 No doubt can exist but that the intentions of all the origi- 
 nators of, and stockholders in this scheme of rearing an 
 Academy of Music or Opera House in the city of New York, 
 which might be worthy of a great and wealthy Capital, were 
 disinterested. Yet, it would seem that in some way or other, 
 mistakes had crept into the conditions of the Charter of the 
 Academy, as well as in the construction of the building 
 itself. 
 
 At the Astor Place Opera House, as probably many of 
 you know, the one hundred and fifty-two first subscriptions 
 paid the rent of the building for the Manager. These sub- 
 scriptions went at once to the proprietors. He, therefore, 
 had literally to pay the whole of his year's rent in ad- 
 vance, before he began his business. At any rate, he had to 
 * This was Mr. Payne, the present Manager, who carried it on, during 
 the second month of Mario and Grisi's engagement, after its first 
 instalment by Mr. Hackett had terminated, 
 t Messrs. Phalen and Coit. 
 
334 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 pay the rent of the whole year out of his first subscription for 
 four months, as in four months, his season would, be finished. 
 The mere fact of retaining about $12,000 from the Managers' 
 hands at the period of his season in which he requires the most 
 capital, and which necessitates the larger proportion of his 
 outlay and expenditure, was, in every case, both onerous and 
 disastrous. 
 
 But in the Academy of Music, a rent of $24,000 (the 
 double of that demanded for the Astor Place Opera House, is 
 asked), while two hundred choice seats for every performance, 
 duringthe whole year, are required for the stockholders. These, 
 the best seats in the House, can neither be let to, nor occupied 
 by paying persons, upon any occasion. 
 
 This, it is obvious, is a glaring error on the part of" the 
 proprietors. 
 
 As reasonably might a man who builds and lets a dwelling 
 at a fair rental, require that its occupant or lessee should 
 invariably keep a seat for him at his table. As reason- 
 ably might a man who sells a painter a canvass, at its value, 
 ask that four inches of the painting should be cut from the 
 principal object in it, and handed to him when the aforesaid 
 painting should be completed. As reasonably might the 
 dealer who furnishes a merchant with his Day-books and 
 Ledgers, demand the right of inspecting them whenever he 
 might think proper. Perhaps, however, this right might 
 be conceded to them as a courtesy by the Management, sup- 
 posing that after the first Act of the- Opera was terminated, 
 these seats should be free to any of those who were in the 
 House. But — No ! These seats must be retained for the 
 stockholders, subject . to the chance of their visiting the Acade- 
 my at any time during the evening. 
 
 This error, it will fortunately be an easy thing to remedy, 
 when the necessity of attending to it is forced upon them. 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 335 
 
 Let us now examine the construction of the building. 
 When built, it was intended to contain 4,500 persons, com- 
 fortably. This was in order that yo«, my good friends, might 
 be accommodated en masse, and also at prices which should 
 be acceptable to your ideas and your pockets. It was not the 
 original intention to have built a theatre, whose prices of 
 admission should establish the fact that it was an institution, 
 destined only for the patronage of the " Upper Ten." Tou, 
 as well as I, know how this has been carried out. By some 
 fault or other in carrying out the designs of the architect, or, 
 very possibly by some error upon his part, the Academy of 
 Music, by the manner in which its seats are at present ar- 
 ranged, cannot comfortably accommodate and seat one-half 
 of the proposed number. That is, more than one-half of 
 4,500 persons cannot sit in it, and see as well as hear, with- 
 out personal discomfort, that which passes upon the stage. 
 By this means it is at once rendered impossible for any Man- 
 ager to employ a first-rate Company and open the House at 
 reasonable prices of admission, while he places new Operas 
 before them. But in addition to this, the heavy expenses in 
 scenery, dresses, &c. &c, attendant upon the first manage- 
 ments in any and every new theatre, cripple the means of the 
 early Managers, and necessitate either a failure, or the 
 sinking of a large amount of capital. 
 
 Now, when the stockholders originally subscribed their 
 names to the contract and paid their money, it may be fairly 
 concluded that they did so, simply and honestly, in the belief 
 that they were thereby helping and protecting the interests 
 of Art in this country. 
 
 Let us, therefore, see in what manner they have been paid 
 for doing so. 
 
 If we examine the seats which they have claimed and re- 
 ceived during the first year of the existence of the Academy 
 
336 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 of Music, without for a moment looking at the rent which hag 
 more than paid the interest upon the amount of capital invest- 
 ed in its building and decoration, we may form a tolerably 
 fair idea of this. Suffice it that the interest paid by the seats 
 which have been placed at their disposal constitutes alone, a 
 reasonably fair ratio of proceeds even in the past year's tight- 
 ness of the money market. 
 
 The Mario and Grisi troupe played in this theatre some 
 Torty nights. The seats, therefore, retained inv ariably for 
 each stockholder at the regular rate of admission — $2 — 
 amount in the forty nights of the season, to $80. 
 
 Ole Bull gave them seven nights with a new Opera ex- 
 pensively brought out, at the price of $1.50 per seat. This 
 amounts to $10.50. 
 
 The Committee of Management, consisting of Messrs. 
 Phalen and Coit, gave them thirty-two performances. These 
 at the same price, amounted to $48. 
 
 And finally, the Lagrange troupe, under at that time a 
 mixed regime, gave them fourteen nights of performance, at 
 no advance upon the preceding prices. This brings the 
 amount of the admissions which the stockholders did not pay 
 for, to $21. 
 
 The total amounts to $159.50, paid to each stockholder 
 of $1000's worth of stock, in ninety-three seats for the 
 different performances. 
 
 Without, therefore, counting the Balls, Concerts, and. Lec- 
 tures, or the day performances, to which their holding a share 
 in the stock of the Academy also entitles them to admission, 
 you will find that these ninety-three performances, alone, 
 have paid them at the rate of sixteen per cent, (or within a 
 mere fraction of it) for their invested stock of $1000. 
 When to this the rent of $24,000, which has to be paid by 
 the lessee, is added, it strikes me, my dear Public, that you 
 
OPEKA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 337 
 
 will see Virtue may sometimes very thoroughly verify the 
 old adage, and be its own reward. The stockholders of the 
 Academy intended in the first instance to benefit the taste 
 for Art. It must be admitted, that up to the present time, 
 they have done this in the most profitable manner possible 
 to themselves personally. 
 
 But, in addition to this, be it remembered: that the seats 
 given to the stockholders are transferable. 
 
 Consequently, should the Manager make a hit, with a new 
 Opera, which renders it advisable for him to run it for a 
 reasonably long period, the stockholder may, after having 
 seen the new Opera some two or three times, transfer his 
 ticket to a friend, or on successive nights to half a dozen of 
 his friends, who would, otherwise, be well able and willing to 
 pay for his or their admission. The loss which falls upon 
 the treasury of the Academy (or rather should I say, the 
 treasury of its Manager) during a year's performances of 
 ninety-three nights, cannot well be less than $10,000, for it 
 will be not simply during the run of new Operas that this is 
 constantly done. Need I point out to you, my dear Public, 
 that this is a gross error in the constitution of the Academy 
 as a paying Opera House. It requires a large amount of 
 reform, ere a Manager can get up new Operas in it, and 
 place them upon the stage at reasonable prices, which may 
 bring them fairly within the reach of every musically dis- 
 posed person. 
 
 These facts, in deference to the feelings of many of the 
 stockholders with whom I chance to be acquainted, would, let 
 me own, scarcely have been stated by me, were it not that I 
 am compelled to do so. This has been enforced, as it were, 
 by the meddling of some of those indefatigable busy-bodies 
 who contrive to make themselves far better acquainted with 
 15 
 
338 REVELATIONS OF AH 
 
 the secret intentions of your and my souls, than we profess to 
 be, ourselves. 
 
 Indeed, I have been obliged to write on this subject 
 purely in self-defence against their tattling impertinence. 
 
 No sooner was it generally known that I was engaged upon 
 arranging and writing this present series of letters, than 
 they chose to know considerably more, about my purpose 
 in so doing, than I did myself. One of them, in the coolest 
 manner possible, affirmed that the book was being written to 
 avenge myself on the proprietors and stockholders of the 
 Academy — that, in fact, it was neither more nor less than a 
 sheer production of spite, because they had not thought 
 proper to make me their lessee. Another, no less boldly 
 and unhesitatingly, volunteered the proposition that it was 
 simply intended as a bolus of flattery. Indeed, he stated, 
 although not quite in such coarse terms, that it was intended 
 to wheedle them into the idea of ultimately confiding its 
 management into my hands. What was I to do between the 
 two stools which were so graciously volunteered me, save by 
 sitting upon neither of them, and giving a clear statement of 
 the facts, which rendered it very unlikely, certainly, that I 
 should wish to do so, to prove most conclusively that no such 
 idea as either of these, could have originated my idea of writ- 
 ing this volume. 
 
 But there are also others, whose attacks upon my system 
 of Opera management, induce me to go somewhat further. 
 
 These, seeing that I am at present simply engaged as a mu- 
 sical Director and Conductor in the Academy, have imagined 
 that there is nothing more to hope from me. Or, perhaps, 
 having forgotten that all their knowledge of Operatic affairs 
 has been acquired (you must pardon me, my dear Public, if 
 that modesty which I have already declared to be one of the 
 prominent features in my character, seems, in the present 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 839 
 
 instance, to be forgotten) under my tuition, they believe that 
 they may pull to pieces my system of conducting Operatic 
 business. 
 
 To these, I can oppose no other defence than that 
 of making you acquainted with the real results of the man- 
 agement of the first nine months of the Academy of 
 Music. 
 
 In spite of the invariable declarations of success and 
 prosperity, which were issued during the last season from the 
 bureaux of this establishment, the losses sustained by those 
 gentlemen who had so nobly (yet I must say, so ignorantly) 
 rushed into management, were singularly heavy. In truth, 
 they were so enormous, that all the other previously bad 
 results of Operatic management in this country, fade into the 
 merest trifles in comparison with them. If previous Mana- 
 gers as well as myself, had no millions of dollars (!) at their 
 back, to enable them to withstand the actual as well as moral 
 shock of their losses, this was no fault of ours. We can but 
 say, that we are pleased to find men of large capital, who 
 might be disposed to prove that the management of Opera 
 was by no means that inexpensive amusement which they 
 had previously imagined. 
 
 If, however, the luckless Managers with small means at 
 their command {naturally, my beloved Public, I myself must 
 be included among these) have done as much or more, and lost 
 less, it must candidly be admitted that the mode of management 
 which they adopted was by no means a bad one. Neither will 
 you withhold from them your esteem, even should they not have 
 been able to convince you that their management was attended 
 with the most complete success. Nor, indeed, do I feel my- 
 self unentitled to ask you for it. Su«h Operas as I was then 
 enabled, by the personal superintendence which was exercised 
 by me over every division of my company, both in Castle 
 
340 REVELATIONS OP AN 
 
 Garden and at the Astor Place Opera House, to place upon 
 the stage, at fifty cents admission, supported by such artists 
 as Bosio, Henrietta Sontag, Steffenone, Salvi, Bettini, Poz- 
 zolini, Badiali, Marini, and others whom it would be needless 
 for me to enumerate, have not as yet been surpassed any- 
 where upon this continent. For this, I may undoubtedly ap- 
 peal to the opinion of any real and impartial lover of Ope- 
 ratic music. 
 
 The " star" system of management, as it is called, I have 
 most certainly always repudiated ; but allow me to ask you, 
 whether any one of those artists whom I have named was 
 not fitted to have shone alone, had my rules of conducting 
 Operatic affairs permitted me to deal in this line of busi- 
 ness. Bosio was as great an artist then, as she is now, 
 when she has achieved her rank as one of the European " gal- 
 axy " of well-known names in modern vocalism. Sontag was 
 as much' a "star" under my management, as she was when 
 she first appeared in this country. If with me, her beams 
 were not permitted to engross the whole of popular admira- 
 tion, it was simply that I neither could, nor would aid in per- 
 petrating such an injustice upon the other artists who, with 
 her, formed my company. Steffenone is too well understood 
 and valued in this section of the world, to render it necessary 
 for me to dilate upon her planetary proportions. Salvi, if 
 second to any other living tenor, could only have been con- 
 sidered second to Mario. Badiali was and is one of the three 
 best ban/tones to be met with, on this or on the other side of 
 the Atlantic ; while Marini, as I have elsewhere stated, stands 
 alone with Lablache at the head of all the bassi of their period. 
 Better ones may have been. At all events, neither yourself, 
 my beloved Public, nor myself, have heard any such. Better 
 ones may, at some future period, be. Very possibly, neither 
 you nor I shall live to hear ■them. If, then, in no more than 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 341 
 
 one instance, I have resorted to (and this was compulsorily, in 
 the case of Parodi) the " starring" system, it has not been for 
 the want of planets, had I chosen to employ them. 
 
 There is such a thing as an embarras des richesses. The 
 man, who has his pockets full of gold eagles, would be the least 
 likely person in the world to have a hole bored through one 
 of them, and suspend it round his neck. 
 
 Such an act of vanity could only be perpetrated by a Caifre- 
 Hottentot or a Mosquito-Indian. 
 
 In order, however, to justify myself in that which I have 
 advanced, and to protect myself against the imputation of un- 
 dervaluing the success of recent managements, I shall take it 
 upon myself to name the sums which in my belief and esti- 
 mation, and indeed to my tolerably certain knowledge, have 
 been sunk during the last year at the Academy of Music in 
 the production of Italian Opera. And it may be trusted, that 
 the various lessees will excuse that which is very assuredly 
 no breach of confidence upon my part, as their losses have 
 been common topics of conversation with all who were or are 
 connected with the establishment. 
 
 Mr. Hackett opened this theatre with the Operatic troupe 
 that he brought out to this country accompanying Mario and 
 Grisi. After the first month of Opera, he threatened to quit 
 it, whether by reason of his too heavy losses, or from the im- 
 mense trouble of counting his receipts, let me confess myself, 
 without inquiry, unable to determine — not having been at this 
 period in New York. Perhaps a shrewd guess might be 
 made by me, but it would be useless. Let me, therefore, 
 admit that at the end of this month Mr. Hackett's balance- 
 sheet came out perfectly fair, and that, if on examining it, he 
 found he had made nothing, he was at any rate equally con- 
 vinced that his treasury exhibited no very visible deficiency. 
 Be this as it may, in the second month of the Grisi and Mario 
 
342 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 engagement, these artists were under the management of a 
 party of the stockholders of the Academy. 
 
 This month's losses were, at least $8,000 
 
 Mr. W. H. Payne, together with Mr. Haekett, carried 
 it on for the third month. Their losses were, at 
 least 4,000 
 
 Ole Bull, (although I confess I had believed him to 
 have made $4 in his speculative attempt on manage- 
 ment,) considering that he has sold his property 
 -under its value, and neglected to accept the engage- 
 ments made by Strakosch, will find himself the suf- 
 ferer (not, certainly, to the tune of $13,000, as he 
 has stated) to the amount of, at least 4,000 
 
 The Committee of Management, with the Chevalier 
 Henry Wikoff as Acting Manager, lost, with 
 " crowded houses," the sum of, at least .... 28,000 
 
 The La Grange Operatic Company, or their propri- 
 etors and Managers, could not have lost during 
 
 . . 12,000 
 
 Total loss from November, 1854, to July, 1855, at the \ „ 5g .. 
 least i 
 
 Considering, that in reckoning this as nearly as a person is 
 able to do who has not access to the books of either manage- 
 ment, I have neither counted Mr. Hackett's first and opening 
 month, nor the loss consequent upon the house having been 
 closed during the month of last January and the half of last 
 February to the stockholders, it may be seen that the various 
 managements lost, in scarcely more than seven months, the 
 immense sum of $56,000. 
 
 This sum which was sunk in seven months, is, at the least, 
 three times as much as the whole of my losses in six years of 
 management. "While the fourth part of this sum would be 
 more than sufficient to settle all the liabilities which have 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 343 
 
 been contracted by me in this period, for the sake of carrying 
 out the establishment of regular Operatic entertainments 
 in this city. 
 
 With such losses in prospect (because they have invariably 
 occurred), it is at once evident that Managers will by no means 
 present themselves with great plenty, for the Academy of 
 Music, in Fourteenth Street. 
 
 It is true that Mr. W. H. Payne has undertaken, once 
 more, the risks and probable losses attendant upon this sin- 
 gularly seductive business. His means and his position may 
 be considered an ample guarantee for the termination of the 
 season. Nay ! He possesses qualities,, that with the expe- 
 rience of some few years in the business, might ripen him 
 into an admirable Manager. But, my kind Public, my belief 
 is that, when the present season has drawn to a close, he will 
 be satisfied with the experiment. Should this be the case, it 
 is, I must be allowed to say, high time that the stockholders 
 should revolve the future prospects of their magnificent 
 Operatic establishment. Indeed, they must do so, sooner or 
 later, if they would place it upon a sure basis, and prevent 
 it at last experiencing the fate of the Astor Place Opera 
 House. 
 
 They have the means in their hands to establish an Oper- 
 atic theatre. They certainly, at one time, had the will to do so. 
 
 Why is it that they should be unable to carry out their in- 
 tentions ? 
 
 If they really wish to benefit the musical taste of this 
 country, they are necessitated to reduce the rent to the lowest 
 possible figure, which may return them a fair per centage upon 
 their original outlay. On the present terms, two or three 
 more attempts may be made to carry on an Operatic business 
 in the establishment. But such a gallant love for Music, my 
 dear Public, must soon be extinguished by its inevitable 
 
344 kevelatiosts of an 
 
 losses. The best of us cannot, for your gratification, continue 
 management at a certain and dead loss. In addition to this 
 I must be permitted to state, that they ought to be contented 
 with a certain number of admissions for a certain number of 
 nights in each season. On these nights, each of these admis- 
 sions might be valued at one dollar. But should they choose 
 to have secured seats, for each seat so secured, they ought to 
 pay that additional fifty cents per night, which the stockholders 
 in the new Theatre at Boston have consented to pay. By these 
 means, and by these alone, is it possible that the Academy of 
 Music might flourish and honestly pay not only the stockhold- 
 ers, but its management. 
 
 With sixty admissions each year, on these terms, they would 
 make six per cent, on their capital, and for securing their 
 seats, if they thought proper to do so, it would only cost them 
 the trifling sum of $30 additional, upon a season of sixty 
 nights. 
 
 If, however, the stockholders are determined to change 
 nothing in the statutes and by-laws of their constitution, 
 then let them join, and jointly carry on the Academy of 
 Music. Let them select a good and clever man of some 
 business tact from their own body (there are many such 
 amongst them), and constitute him their Acting Manager. 
 Let them give him their joint authority for all their business 
 and monetary transactions. Then, let them engage some 
 able musical man for the management of musical matters 
 and the stage. In all, the number of stockholders is 200, 
 and in such a case this number might be increased. 
 Should a bad season result, which it is impossible for any 
 amount - of foresight at all times to obviate, each of them 
 might lose the comparative trifle of $40 to $50, which multi- 
 plied by 200 (supposing that they have not increased their 
 number), would amount to — from $8,000 to $10,000 for the 
 
OPERA MANAGER IN AMERICA. 345 
 
 year. But there is the chance that in choosing their Mana- 
 ger well, they might come out tolerably clear, or even make a 
 reasonable profit upon the experiment. This might either 
 go into their individual pockets, or should they possess a taste 
 for a more elevated and abstract, kind of pleasure than that 
 of a mere -pecuniary profit, it might be devoted to the insti- 
 tution and formation of a school — an American school — for 
 either vocalism or composition, or possibly, for both of these 
 branches of musical taste and musical education. 
 
 And now, my kind friends, I have completed the book 
 which you asked me for. That it is by no means a wonder- 
 ful example of the choicest and most elegant English, you 
 need not tell me. 
 
 My knowledge of style and manner, even in your language, 
 convinces me that its faults are many. Let me hope that these 
 may be overbalanced, by the interest your love for Music may 
 induce you to take in the events recorded.' If my conti- 
 nental education has induced me to deal sharply with many 
 of whom I have written, remember, that I have earned the 
 right to speak by my submission to having been spoken of. 
 Those who play at bowls must expect rubs, at some time or 
 other. At present, the ball has been in my hands, and I will 
 not deny that it was used with a tolerably willing arm. If 
 it has ever rolled contrary to its true bias, it has been from a 
 want of training in the muscle that was sending it towards its 
 mark. The error has been not so much in the will as in the 
 manner of my action. In a word, it is because my shoulders 
 have not felt at ease in the garb of another language than 
 mine own. Find fault with me, if you will, for my errors in 
 this respect, and I will bear it patiently. To your discipline 
 I have always bowed. 
 
 But, believe me, when I tell you that purely personal 
 criticism will be utterly thrown away upon me. 
 
 15» 
 
346 REVELATIONS OF AN 
 
 Those who feel aggrieved, may, should they wish to do so, 
 retaliate upon me. Too long have I been connected with 
 the Press, both in France and Germany, not to know what I 
 have to expect. 
 
 Thus, having eased and cleared out my soul, I throw down 
 my pen and confide myself to your judgment. Your support 
 has invariably been the only reward which I have sought for 
 my exertions, since the lesson which was given me by my 
 first season's management at the Astor Place Opera House. 
 My care has, since that period, been only for your decision. 
 My appeals have ever been made simply to your liking. 
 Show me that you relish my " crotchets and quavers," and 
 my modesty (!) will be amply satisfied. Grant that I have 
 fairly used my present language, and the sneers at my igno- 
 rance of its forms will by no means worry me. Permit me, 
 therefore, to assure you, that I remain as I have always done — 
 Yours, most gratefully for past kindness, 
 
 and, hopefully for future favors, 
 
 Max Maretzek. 
 
FRENCH'S 
 
 Price 12§_Cents each. — Bound Volumes, $1.00. 
 
 VOL. I. 
 
 1. Midsummer-Night's 
 
 Dream. 
 
 2. Popping the Question. 
 
 3. La Tour de Nesle, 
 
 4. Deaf as a Post. 
 
 5. *Therese ; or, The Or- 
 
 phan of Q-eneva. 
 
 6. FlyingDutchman . 
 
 7. New Footman. 
 
 8. Pleasant Neighbor. 
 
 vol. n. 
 
 9. *Ireland As It Is. 
 
 10. Game of Love. 
 
 11. Rip Van Winkle- 
 
 12. *In and out of Place. 
 
 13. Tempest. 
 
 14. Dombey & Son. 
 
 15. Seven Clerks. 
 
 16. Bryan O'Lynn. 
 
 VOL. III. 
 
 17. *Our Jemima. 
 
 18. David Copperfleld. 
 
 19. Ugalino. 
 
 20. Love and Murder. 
 
 21. Forty Thieves. 
 
 22. *Paddy;Carey, 
 
 23. Brian Boroihme. 
 
 24. Two Gregories. 
 
 The above Plays comprise Vols. 1, 2 and 3, of French's American 
 Drama. 
 
 Vol. I. will contain a Portrait of Mr. Edwin Forrest, with a Memoir. 
 
 Vol. II. will contain a Portrait of Mr. Barney Williams, in charac- 
 ter, and sketch of his life. 
 
 Vol. III. will contain a Memoir and Portrait of Mrs. Barney Wil- 
 liams, in one of her celebrated Yankee parts. 
 
 All plays marked (*), contain portraits of some celebrated actor in 
 character. 
 
 Mr. F. has great pleasure in announcing that he has made arrange- 
 ments with Mr. John Brougham, and Mr. Barney Williams, to publish 
 all of their Plays, which will be issued with all possible dispatch. 
 
 Mr. F. will keep constantly on hand a large assortment of Play-Books, 
 and will fill orders for all plays published in Europe or America. 
 
 American Plays, MX Cents each, or 10 for $1.00. 
 
 jy All orders will receive prompt attention. 
 
 S. FRENCH, 
 
 121 Nassau Street, New-York. 
 
THE WATCHMAN. 
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 
 THE WATCHMAN'S FAMILY. 
 
 " la there for honest poverty, 
 
 That hangs its head, and a' that 8 
 The coward slave ! we pass him by — 
 
 And dare be poor for a' that. 
 For a' that, and a' that, 
 
 Our toil's obscure, and a' that, 
 The rank is but the guinea's stamp, 
 The man's the gowd for a' that." 
 
 Boms. 
 
 The faint glimmer of the cold gray dawn of a gloomy Octo- 
 ber morning was just beginning to light up the broad streets, 
 and to penetrate the close lanes and narrow thoroughfares of 
 New York City, when Joseph Carter quitted his beat .and 
 turned his weary steps homewards ; but the dawn of day had 
 brought no cheerfulness with it — it rather seemed to make the 
 chill desolation more palpable — for the snow had fallen heavily 
 during the night, and the chill wind had scattered the dying 
 leaves from the trees and swept them in ridges across the 
 streets, and overhead the sky appeared like a dull,, leaden 
 canopy, beneath which the scud was driving furiously before 
 the wind. It was the beginning of one of those cheerless days 
 1* 
 
10 THE WATCHMAN. 
 
 that sometimes diversify the usual sweetness of our glorious 
 autumn, and serve to remind us painfully that winter — cold, 
 frosty, cheerless winter — is at hand. Joseph Carter slightly 
 shivered, as the gloomy aspect of the approaching day was thus 
 revealed to him; and buttoning his heavy watchman's soat 
 still more closely around him, and pulling his cap deeper over 
 his brow, with his head bent and his face directed towards 
 the damp and greasy pavement, as though he strove to shut 
 out the oheerless prospect, he quickened his pace towards his 
 home. 
 
 The clock of Trinity Church struck the hour of six as Carter 
 entered the door of his humble dwelling in Mulberry-street, 
 and ascending the stairs to the second story-— for, poor as the 
 dwelling was, Joseph did not occupy the whole of it — he 
 entered a suite of three apartments ; and passing into the 
 innermost room, which was evidently the dormitory of his 
 family, he proceeded quietly to divest himself of his damp 
 outer clothing, preparatory to lying himself down to 1 rest. 
 
 It was still dark in this small room ; not the faintest gleam 
 of the gray light of morning had as yet penetrated into it — for 
 it had no windows, and only received light and air through the 
 other apartments — and while in the act of undressing, Joseph 
 stumbled accidentally over a chair, or some other obstacle 
 which happened to be in the way. 
 
 The noise he made was slight, nevertheless it was sufficient 
 to arouse one of the sleepers — and there were already three in 
 that little room. A rustling of the bed-clothes, a gentle sigh 
 were heard, a pair of little arms were stretched out, and a 
 long breath was drawn, and presently a childish voice lisped — 
 
 " Is that you, papa ? " 
 
 "Yes, my dear," replied Joseph. 
 
 " It's not time to get up yet, papa 1 " 
 
 " Yes, Nelly — it's a dark morning ; but lie still till mamma 
 wakes ; don't make any noise" — and the father stooped over 
 the bed and kissed the child — it was his youngest child, a little 
 
THE WATCHMAN. 11 
 
 girl of five years of age, who had spoken — and then gently 
 removing the feed-clothes, he prepared to get into bed, if possfc 
 ble without disturbing the slumbers of those who already 
 occupied it ; for, he thought — 
 
 " It is a cold, cheerless morning — and I know Mary worked 
 hard yesterday ; so it's as well that she should sleep on for 
 another hour." 
 
 His caution was, however, unavailing. The child's voice had 
 awakened her mother ; and just as Joseph had snugly arranged 
 the bed-clothes over him, his wife asked — 
 
 " Is that you, Joseph ? " 
 
 "Yes, mother." 
 
 " What o'clock is it % " 
 
 "It's past six; but lie down again wife, and sleep. The morn- 
 ing's gloomy, and it will hardly be full day-light before seven 
 o'clock. But don't forget to call me at eight o'clock, Mary, for 
 I've a parcel of goods to take down to pier No. 8, at ten 
 o'clock, for Mr. Blunt." 
 
 "I'll not forget, Joseph," replied the woman., "I'll have 
 breakfast all ready for you before I call you. So, go to sleep, 
 for I'm sure you must be tired." 
 
 The woman seemed, too, as if she had not yet slept off all 
 her weariness, for she turned on her side, and drew the bed- 
 clothes snugly over her ; but the thought seemed to come across 
 her, that it were folly to indulge any longer in bed ; and say- 
 ing,^-"! may as well rise at once; or, perhaps, I shall over- 
 sleep myself," she got out of bed, dressed herself and the chil- 
 dren, and at once set quietly but busily to work upon the 
 duties of the day. 
 
 Had we not already hinted that Joseph Cartel was one of 
 the City Watchmen, the reader might think it strange to find 
 him on the point of taking his rest at an hour when most hard- 
 working, industrious people are thinking of rising, or have 
 already risen. Our story opens at a period prior to the organi- 
 sation of the present police force — when the nightly guardian- 
 
12 THE WATCHMAN. 
 
 ship of the city was intrusted to men who labored, at least 
 some portions of the day, at some other vocation. Joseph 
 Carter was a carman during the day, and he added to his 
 limited income by doing duty as a watchman every other night. 
 
 It was " pretty severe work, this double-duty ; but Joseph 
 Carter was an honest, pious, hard-working, industrious man ; 
 and although he had not been fortunate enough to receive a 
 good education himself, he felt the benefits that would accrue to 
 his children from education ; and for their sakes and for the 
 purpose of providing a few extra comforts for his wife, he 
 cheerfully gave up three night's rest during the week. 
 
 Joseph at this period was verging towards middle age ; he 
 had not married very young ; but he had already been united 
 ten years to a woman of his own rank of life, who had made 
 him a most excellent wife. She had borne him three children, 
 William, the eldest, now about nine years of age ; Nelly, the 
 little girl, already alluded to, and another daughter, who, had 
 she lived, would have been two years old, but she had died 
 about six months previous ; and Joseph and his wife, notwith- 
 standing their humble station in life — which rendered unceasing 
 toil needful for the support of themselves and their children, 
 thought the loss of this infant the most serious affliction they 
 had sustained, since they had struggled hand in hand together 
 through the difficulties and troubles that continually assail the 
 poor. But, as we have observed already, Joseph was a pious, 
 exemplary man, and his wife was a patient, amiable woman, 
 and if not so strong in faith as her husband, she had learnt from 
 his teaching to place her trust in Providence, and to believe 
 that God orders all things for the best. 
 
 There had been some tears, and lamentations — the natural 
 outburst of parental sorrow — when the bereaved parents con- 
 signed their youngest darling to the cold grave ; and then they 
 turned away and dried their tears, though grief still rested on 
 their hearts, and said, " The Lord gave and the Lord hath taken 
 away ; blessed be the name of the Lord;" and as the words 
 
THE WATCHMAN. 13 
 
 passed from their lips, they endeavored to school their hearts 
 to the belief, that their infant had been removed from a world 
 of sin and sorrow to a realm of eternal joy and brightness, 
 and that her removal was rather a cause for rejoicing than for 
 lamentation •; and although they found the task a severe one, 
 faith prevailed over selfishness, and they found peace and hope 
 in that belief at last. 
 
til piiii nisi ii® trnprn 
 
 "THE WATCHMAN!" 
 
 fSWBF.'- 11 
 
 IT' 
 
 
 & 1 
 
 
 
 C3 
 O 
 
 o 
 
 H 
 
 o 
 
 w 
 
 H 
 
 E 
 
 M 
 
 I 
 
 fed 
 
 Published in one volume, cloth, 400 pages. Price One Dollar* 
 
 "And let na not be weary in well doing, for in due season we ahull reap if we faint not." 
 
 READ THE FOLLOWING OPINIONS OF THE PRESS: 
 
 THE "WATCHMAN ie designed to anbBorve a good purpose, and it will, doubtless, effect its object. The 
 characters ore skillfully drawn and are remarkably life-like, and the plot of the tale ia of the moat interesting 1 
 description. The moral it inculcates is, that eventual success awaits the efforts of those who earnestly strive to do 
 their duty to God and man This hook will be a fitting companion to the popular story of " The Lamplighter."— 
 Advocale, York, Penn 
 
 THE WATCHMAN.— Thia wort ia deservedly popular. The reader finds in their pages aympattiieB of the 
 closest nature, forming flowers for hie path through life's weary journey. " The Watchman" is safely esconced 
 agaiast any attack by critics. Ita pages deal in truth. It pictures life as it is, and inculcates useful lessons. The 
 young rann whose past has been boisterous : whose present ia full of chaos and crags, and whose futdeu appears 
 gloomy with dark forebodings, may learn a lesson of contentment from its pages. — Advertiser, Auburn, N. x. 
 
 THE WATCHMAN.— This book is of a kindred character with ''The Lamplighter "—a volume which 
 appeared some months since and was extensively read and admired. The characters are all well drawn, and the 
 story SB charmingly told. It abounds In incident and adventure, and is pervaded by a healthy moral tone. It 
 cannot fail of meeting with great success with the reading public. — Troy Budget, 
 
 H. LONG & BUG,, Publishers, 121 Nassau St., N. Y., and all Booksellers. 
 
 Copies of the above work Mailed to any part of the United States, free of postage, on f> 
 ceipt of One 'Dollar, poet vaid, addressed as above. 
 
THE 
 
 SLAVE OF THE LAMP. 
 
 BY WM. NORTH. 
 
 '■Who will eicliango old lamps for new." 
 
 Arabian Nights' Entertainment*. 
 
 This strangely interesting novel is now ready. It will be recol- 
 lected that the author, long and favorably known both in Europe 
 and America, as a writer of extraordinary power and brilliancy, 
 lately committed suicide, under the most painful circumstances, al- 
 most immediately after the above work was completed. He was a 
 strange erratic genius — possessed of the most sensitive feelings, and 
 was unable to bear up against the disappointments and trials of life. 
 Difficulties likewise-; it is supposed, pressed hardly upon him — since 
 he was a scion of a noble house in England — being related to Lord 
 North, Earl of Guilford, and usod, in early life, to wealth and luxury. 
 The work in question is in a certain way an autobiography — for it 
 is impossible to read it without perceiving that the hero of the tale 
 is the author himself. Like Lord Byron in the Corsair, Don Juan, 
 and Childb Harold, he relates Hs own strange life, and invests his 
 principal character with his own peculiar sentiments. Exciting the 
 story is, sometimes to a painful degree — and the sad fate of its author 
 invests it with singular interest. Genius flashes forth in every par- 
 agraph, while an almost morbid sensibility pervades each chapter. 
 It is a 1>ook that read will be remembered, and it bids fair to become 
 a standard work. It is the last, and undoubtedly the best of Wm. 
 North's numerous works. Orders should be sent in immediately. 
 
 Published in 1 vol 12mo. Beautifully bound. Price, ©1,00. 
 
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 THE 
 
 LIFE AND BEAUTIES 
 
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 WHO IS RUTH HALL? 
 
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 OR SOMEBODY ELSE? 
 
 AND IF FANNY FERN IS NOT RUTH HALL, 
 
 WHO IS FANNY FERN ? 
 
 THE LIFE AND BEAUTIES OP FANNY FERN 
 
 is now before the public, and the world will be enlightened. And this 
 book a strange tale unfolds. 
 
 The present work is authentic in all its details. Those who hare read the 
 advance copy, pronounce it the wittiest, spiciest book of the season. It 
 presents vivid, life-like pictures of the charming and brilliant 
 
 AUTHOR OF FERN LEAVES AND RUTH HALL, 
 
 at her own fireside, in the Editor's Sanctum, in the Street, at Church, and 
 everywhere, and in every position she is the same fascinating woman. 
 
 In this volume, several of Fanny Fern's efforts appear for the first time in 
 book form. The reader will find that they possess the same attractive fea- 
 tures which characterize all her productions. They are alternately witty 
 and pathetic, caustic and soothing, sparkling and pensive. No other author 
 has succeeded so well in touching the finer chords of the heart. 
 
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 "MARRYING MAN," ETC. ETC. 
 
 The author of " Frank Fairlegh," and " Lewis Arundel," two of the moat Interesting books 
 of the day, has excelled even himself in his new -work of " Harry Coverdale's Courtship." It is 
 full of the most exquisite drawings of the human character, and replete with scenes of wit, pa- 
 thos, and intense interest. — Mhcwceum. 
 
 Racy, sparkling, and marked by the touches of true genius. The author has sounded the 
 depths of the human heart, observed society with a keen eye, and laid both bare with a vivid- 
 ness of coloring and accuracy of dissection, which strike forcibly, and retain firm hold of the 
 attention of the reader. — London Literary Gazette. 
 
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 lover's wooing, and a speaking daguerreotype of life and manners. — Critic, 
 
 NEW YORK: 
 PEICB H. LONG & BROTHER, 43 ANN^STREET. 50 CBNTS 
 
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 and -was so extremely popular in this country. For sublimity of sentiment, ohasteness 
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 human, heart, THE "PRIDE OF LIFE has no superior in the entire range of book 
 publishing. Those who have read " The Hen-Pecked Husbamd" will need no further 
 incentive to induce them to purchase the present work, which is superior to even that in 
 ever changing, fascinating interest. Others will have a treat before them in their first 
 introduction to this charming authoress. 
 
 The Pride of "Life.— This is -the title of a new novel, by Laay Scott, author of 
 t( The Hen-Pecked Husband." This work has received very flattering encomiums from 
 the English press ; and with one accord, it is pronounced superiorto the former novel by 
 this lady, which had so extensive a sale in this country. For sublimity of sentiment, 
 chasteness o"f tone, lively wit, deep pathos and extensive knowledge of human nature, 
 the Pride of Life has no superior in the range of modern book-publishing. The Edin- 
 burgh ^Review pronounces it " such a book as we seldom meet with in these days of 
 morbid sentimentality— true to life and nature throughout." — Lancaster Intelligencer 
 and Journal* 
 
 The Pride of Life. A Novel, by Lady Scott. — In all respects, we regard this work as 
 the superior of its immediate predecessor, *' The Hen-Pecked Husband." The plot ia 
 more ingenious, the characters are more skillfully painted, and the scenes and incidents 
 are more exquisite and pointed. The book is true to nature, throughout, and possesses 
 a keen and vivid afflatus, which pervades every page like a November atmosphere. The 
 authoress thinks, reasons, describes and argues like a true-hearted and pure-minded 
 woman, and if she finds it necessary to deal a blow, does it with the same grace and 
 honesty as if she were uttering a compliment. Read the volume and save it for the 
 children. 
 
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 who have read the " Hen-Pecked Husband," by the same author, should purchase and 
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 with the trashy fictions so. abundant at the present day. 1 It is written with power 
 pathos and refined sentiment, and depicts, in a way " to point a moral" for the reader's 
 profit, the workings of one of the master-passions of the human heart. — Reading Gazette 
 and Democrat* 
 
 This is a charming story, elegantly written and very interesting. Indeed it is said to 
 be the best production of the fair author. We commend it to the perusal of our friends. 
 It is neatly printed. — Buffalo Daily Republic. 
 
 The Pride of Life. By Lady Scott.— The "Hen-Pecked Husband," by the author 
 of this story, was very favorably received by the novel-r,eading community. It was liked 
 for its liveliness, humor and purity of description. The latest production of Lady Scott 
 will command more admiration than its predecessor. It is a well written, lively and 
 very interesting tale, which is managed with ability. — Sunday despatch. 
 
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 is delicately and graphically portrayed."— Times. 
 
 " A powerfully written work, decidedly a hook for leisure reading. Lively and pa- 
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 choice library." — Journal. 
 
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