MUSICAL AND OTHER 
 
(50i;neU Uniucraitg ffiihrarg 
 
 atljara, N*m Sork 
 
 FROM THE 
 
 BENNO LOEWY LIBRARY 
 
 COLLECTED BY 
 
 BENNO LOEWY 
 
 1854-1919 
 BEQUEATHED TO CORNELL UNIVERSITY 
 
"iffilBSiiiiiJitt,^' '"" "'Her / 
 
Cornell University 
 Library 
 
 The original of tliis book is in 
 tlie Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924021748219 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 

 y^^^^.^^ 
 
Fanny Reed 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 MUSICAL AND OTHER 
 
 BY 
 
 FANNY REED 
 
 With Portraits and Other Illustrations 
 
 BOSTON 
 KNIGHT AND MILLET 
 
 1903 
 
Copyright, iq02 
 By Knight and Millet 
 
 Entered at Stationers' Hall, London, England 
 
TO 
 
 MY AFFECTIONATE NIECE 
 
 Mrs. Arthur Paget 
 
 London, June, 1902 
 
TABLE OF CONTENTS 
 
 CHAPTEK PAGE 
 
 I. Eaklt Days . 1 
 
 II. Liszt 17 
 
 III. The Marquise db Bloqueville . 41 
 
 IV. Paul Deschanbl 63 
 
 V. BENJAMiN-CosrsTAisrT 65 
 
 VI. MUNKACZY 75 
 
 VII. MADELBiifE Lemaiee 85 
 
 VIII. COQUELIN 93 
 
 IX. Massenet 109 
 
 X. Padekbwski 129 
 
 XI. Bayrbuth 135 
 
 XII. Finale 147 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 The Attthok Frontispiece 
 
 Edward VII., King of England, Facing page 10 
 
 Fbanz Liszt 22 
 
 Makquisb de Bloqueviile 42 
 
 Paul Deschanel 56 
 
 J.-J. Benjamin-Constant 70 
 
 Michel Munkaczt 78 
 
 Madeleine Lemaiee 86 
 
 Design : " Charity " 88 
 
 Constant Coquelin 102 
 
 Musical Autograph 110 
 
 Jules Massenet 120 
 
 Ignaz Paderewski 130 
 
 J.-B. Taubb 150 
 
EARLY DAYS 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 MUSICAL AND OTHER 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 EAELY DAYS 
 
 Life at the present day is vastly inter- 
 esting. Perhaps no more so than it was to 
 onr predecessors ; but it cannot be doubted 
 that we have advantages which were alto- 
 gether unknown to them. Of these advan- 
 tages one of the most important, certainly, 
 is the increased facility of intercourse 
 among aU civilised nations. But far greater 
 even than this is the freedom of thought 
 and action which has been making its slow 
 yet irresistible way throughout the world. 
 
 With the close of the Spanish War, 
 which has left behind it so many important 
 political questions as yet unanswered, and 
 indeed may be said to have opened a new 
 epoch in the country's history, my mind 
 1 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 reverts to my childliood when, during our 
 Civil War, Abraham Lincoln, by a stroke 
 of the pen, freed four millions of slaves. 
 
 Just before the year 1861 we were all 
 startled from our peaceful life by rumours of 
 an impending collision between North and 
 South. I remember with great distinctness, 
 one evening, on my father's return from 
 Boston, his relating what he had that day 
 witnessed: the delivery to a Southern 
 owner of the runaway slave Bums. Many 
 of us can remember the thrilling experi- 
 ence of that unfortunate man, who had 
 escaped to Massachusetts, hoping for free- 
 dom — an innocent criminal, whose only 
 offence was the colour of his skin. The 
 Fugitive Slave Law was upon our statute- 
 books; and in obedience to it, this poor 
 creature must be sent back to bondage. 
 No greater proof could be given of the law- 
 abiding character of a people whose senti- 
 ments were bitterly opposed to slavery than 
 the giving up of this man to his Southern 
 master; but it was done, and the slave 
 2 
 
EARLY DAYS 
 
 was taken throtigh the streets of Boston, 
 guarded by soldiers, while the sympathy of 
 the people (with the rarest exceptions) was 
 with this victim of the law. The impres- 
 sion made upon my father was most pro- 
 found ; his demmciation of the political 
 condition of the country, which had brought 
 about this iniquitous act, was fierce; the 
 injustice of it roused his intense indigna- 
 tion and seemed to burn into his very soul. 
 Millions throughout the North felt as he 
 did ; and it is not to be wondered at that 
 when the storm, which had so long been 
 gathering, burst in all its fury and the 
 cry of war rang through the land, men 
 were ready and eager to abandon their 
 peaceful lives and to die, if need be, for 
 the sacred cause. It is not too much to 
 say that the heroism and excitement of 
 those days were unparalleled in the history 
 of nations. 
 
 At this period I passed the summer in 
 Newport, which was then a quiet, peaceful, 
 quaint old town ruled by the gentry, who 
 3 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 boasted of their eminently respectable an- 
 cestors and took mucb pride in possessing 
 a Court House of colonial date, which to 
 this day remains quite a feature in the city 
 square. Newport had - always been fre- 
 quented by Southern visitors; and although 
 this year they themselves, of course, were 
 absent, the Southern tone was still strong, 
 and Southern sympathisers were very nu- 
 merous. During the month of August of 
 this year, after one of the early battles of 
 the war, we had news that the wounded 
 soldiers of a Rhode Island regiment were 
 to be brought to Newport. At that time 
 any public care for sick or injured persons 
 was almost unthought of. The query on 
 every side was, how and by whom these 
 gallant defenders of the Union should be 
 provided for. There was only one small 
 hospital in the town, and few, if any, 
 nurses. It was evident that money must 
 at once be raised; and as a first step in 
 doing this, a concert was organised in which 
 residents and visitors were alike interested. 
 4 
 
EARLY DAYS 
 
 In arranging our music for this concert 
 we decided to have as the finale, Mrs. Julia 
 Ward Howe's well-known Battle Hymn of 
 the Republic. It had just been composed, 
 and was the one poetic inspiration of the 
 war. During our rehearsals with chorus 
 and orchestra preparatory to the concert 
 we were informed that if we sang "that 
 sacrilegious hymn," the concert-room would 
 be vacated, so vigorous an expression of 
 anti-slavery sentiments being a thing that a 
 large number of the audience would not 
 tolerate. The threat, however, did not in- 
 timidate any of us. 
 
 When the evening, came, the hall was 
 filled. It was a fashionable audience, a 
 beautiful Newport audience for that time. 
 Everybody went — Southern sympathisers 
 and aU. To me, the youngest of the parti- 
 cipants and the possessor of a fresh, power- 
 ful voice, had been allotted the solo of the 
 Battle Hjrmn. The programme was very- 
 well received, and when the last number 
 was reached, I stood up to sing with a daring 
 5 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 hitherto quite unknown to myself. Before 
 me in the audience were many very marked 
 personalities — August Belmont of New 
 York, a great political leader ; Harry M. 
 Call of Philadelphia, a great social leader ; 
 George Bancroft, the historian ; Mrs. Kuhn, 
 John Quincy Adams's granddaughter, and 
 her husband; Mrs. JuHa Ward Howe her- 
 self; and many other men and women of 
 high social and pubUc position, at this 
 moment representing opinions the most 
 diverse, and each positive, convinced, dog- 
 matic, with a violence of personal feeling 
 hardly conceivable at this day. As I began 
 singing, the whole audience rose — whether 
 unconsciously, or led by the action of some 
 conspicuous person, I never knew — and the 
 effect of this intensely patriotic hymn was 
 beyond belief. For my own part I can truly 
 say that never have I sung with deeper 
 feeling of the words I was singing than I 
 did then. 
 
 It must have seemed a reproach to every 
 disloyal man and woman in that densely- 
 6 
 
EARLY DAYS 
 
 packed concerf^room. The chorus was ta- 
 ken Tip with indescribable enthusiasm, and 
 it seemed to me by every person in the 
 audience. Contrary to the prediction, not 
 an individual left the room. Mrs. Howe, 
 who chanced to be in the front row, hstened 
 with tears in her eyes. We continued, 
 verse after verse, with an ever-increasing 
 intensity of feeling, until the last — pre- 
 sumably the objectionable one: 
 
 " In tlie beauty of the lilies Christ was bom across 
 
 the sea, 
 With a glory in his bosom which transfigures you 
 
 and me ; 
 As he died to make men holy, let us die to make 
 
 men free, 
 
 While God is marching on." 
 
 I feel convinced that many a wavering soul 
 was strengthened in loyalty that night, and 
 as the audience dispersed, I noticed that 
 the so-called Southern sympathisers were 
 serious and very silent. The next day pro- 
 vision was made for the wounded soldiers 
 of every comfort that money could procure. 
 7 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 I remember this Battle Hjntnn on another 
 occasion. On a Fourth of July I sang it at 
 the American Embassy in London. Mr. 
 Charles Francis Adams was at that time 
 our Minister at the Court of St. James. It 
 was the year 1864. The war, which we at 
 first believed would be so quickly ended, 
 still raged at home in all its fury. The dis- 
 astrous days of the Wilderness were just 
 over, and the long siege of Petersburg had 
 been entered upon. Even in some parts 
 of the North, disaffection had begun to in- 
 vade the cities, and there was talk of an 
 armed resistance to the draft. Again Mx^. 
 Howe's Battle Hymn of the Republic was 
 a splendid incitement to undying confidence 
 and courage. 
 
 Many years later, long after the war was 
 over, I received while living in Rome a 
 letter from Mr. Bancroft who was then our 
 Minister at BerHn. He reminded me that 
 he had been present at the Neyport con- 
 cert, and referred to the wave of patriotic 
 emotion that had swept over the whole as- 
 8 
 
EARLY DAYS 
 
 sembly, as they listened to tlie words of 
 tMs noble hymn. The direct cause to 
 which I was indebted for this charming 
 letter was a wish to have, as a matter of 
 record, the exact words of the poem which, 
 in the interval, had been lost to him amidst 
 the countless cares of his busy life. He 
 spoke warmly of his pleasure and satisfac- 
 tion in hearing it sung, and of his vivid 
 recollection of the New England women 
 whose untiring thought and care had been 
 given, in those trying days, to the sick and 
 wounded soldiers of the Union armies. 
 
 I could not but wonder that the memory 
 of this occurrence should linger through so 
 many years in Mr. Bancroft's mind, yet 
 there is something about music which gives 
 it a marvellous hold on the memory. On 
 a visit to Cowes some years since, during 
 the race week, the present King of England 
 — at that time Prince of Wales — signified 
 his desire to pass an evening with the 
 friends with whom I was then staying. 
 During the evening he asked for some 
 9 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 music. I readily assented to his request and 
 had great pleasure in singing many songs 
 to a very appreciative listener, selecting ro- 
 mances from my repertoire both in French 
 and English, and I remember particularly 
 one of Sir Arthur SuUivan's which seemed 
 to be a great favourite. 
 
 The incident had been almost forgotten 
 by me when, at least eight years after, one 
 day on the terrace at Homburg, I perceived 
 a gentleman approaching to speak to me, 
 and soon discovered that it was the Prince 
 of Wales, who most graciously addressed 
 me, asking if I remembered singing for him 
 one evening at Cowes. Of course I did. 
 At once he not only mentioned the names 
 of all the songs I had sung for him, but 
 alluded with special pleasure to some of 
 those from a book of Nursery Rhymes 
 which had just then been pubhshed and had 
 created quite a sensation. Immediately 
 the recollection of these dainty and spark- 
 ling Rhymes came back to me : " Sing a 
 song of sixpence," and " Twinkle, twinkle, 
 10 
 
Edward. VII., King of England 
 
EARLY DAYS 
 
 little star," were those wHcli had lived- in 
 the memory of this distinguished person- 
 age, and the "twinkle" of the "star" 
 could not have surpassed that of the well- 
 known blue eyes of His Koyal Highness as 
 he related the circumstance. A truly 
 royal memory has the present Sovereign, 
 Edward VII., a gift possessed in a great 
 degree by the royal family of England, 
 and 'twas kind and gracious to have spoken 
 as he did so pleasantly of the musical even- 
 ing. 
 
 I would Hke to say a good word for this 
 collection of National Nursery Rhymes, 
 arranged by J. W. Elliott and illustrated 
 by Dalziel. Both music and illustrations 
 are admirably fitted to the weU-known 
 Ehymes, which appeal to grown people as 
 well as create lively emotion in every 
 child's heart. The Death and Burial of 
 Cock Robin is a truly pathetic tale. Sweet 
 Maggie's pet bird destroyed by the cat, — 
 the " one little golden feather soft," which 
 she treasures yet, — what could be more 
 11 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 touching ? I quote from the Preface a few 
 telling sentences : 
 
 " The present volume is intended as a 
 contribution to what may be considered a 
 not unimportant department of our national 
 literature : the Nursery Rhymes, namely, 
 which seem appointed by tacit and uni- 
 versal consent to be said or sung and to 
 be listened to with unwearied interest and 
 appreciation in those great National Insti- 
 tutions, the British Nursery and the Home 
 Schoolroom. Especial pains have been 
 taken to secure the suffrage of that still 
 eager pubhc in petticoats and knicker- 
 bockers whom a genial English writer of 
 the last century, who loved children and 
 spoke and wrote of them with infinite ten- 
 derness and affection, describes as ' masters 
 in aU the learning on the other side of 
 eight years old.' If it be true, as asserted 
 by one of the greatest of English critics 
 and authors, that Sir Roger de Coverley and 
 Mr. Spectator are more real than nine- 
 tenths of the heroes of the last century, 
 12 
 
EARLY DAYS 
 
 and that almost the only autobiography to 
 be received entirely without distrust and 
 disbelief is that of ' Robinson Crusoe, mar- 
 iner, of York,' then surely those important 
 personages. Jack and Jill, Himipty-Dumpty, 
 and My Lady Wind, are real and distinct 
 entities in the mind of every little child 
 whose nursery education has not been en- 
 tirely and unwarrantably neglected." 
 
 13 
 
LISZT 
 
 15 
 
LISZT 
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 LISZT. 
 
 The same year that the war ended I 
 again went abroad, spending the first win- 
 ter in Rome, where I had the pleasure of 
 meeting the Abb^ Liszt, at that time the 
 greatest living pianist in the world. 
 
 The transition from a new country to an 
 older civihsation, full of traditions and art- 
 memories, found a responsive echo in my 
 heart, and I fully appreciated the fact that 
 many new experiences were before me in 
 the study I was pursuing. Higher stan- 
 dards awaited me, finer inspirations, better 
 methods, and greater musical inteUigence 
 — aU most invaluable to a student in the 
 art of Music. I have never been able to ex- 
 plain quite to my satisfaction why it should 
 have been my privilege to meet as friends 
 
 17 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 not only so many of the great performers 
 of the day, but also so many of those who 
 stand on the very heights of creative musi- 
 cal genius ; and not only these, but many 
 persons of great distinction in other depart- 
 ments of art. One speculates vainly as to the 
 why or wherefore that brings friends or foes 
 across one's path. The mere fact of having 
 a voice or a natural love of music cannot 
 account for it. I think it can be better ex- 
 plained by that bond of sympathy that so 
 often bridges the gulf between the genius 
 and the child, the master and the pupil. It 
 is with no sense of personal vanity but only 
 with heart-felt gratitude that I now revert 
 to the valuable friendships that came into 
 my life with these whose lives, as I knew 
 them, I have endeavoured to portray in the 
 following pages, not with a critic's analysis, 
 but with cordial and reverent sjrmpathy. 
 These are some readers who may consider 
 that I have painted my friends in too glow- 
 ing colours, but to that I can only say, they 
 are my friends as I have seen and known 
 18 
 
LISZT 
 
 them. I quotp Madame Viardot's touching 
 words in her Souvenirs : " I do not regret 
 growing old, but I do regret that my 
 younger friends have not had the artistic 
 delights that I have enjoyed." (Je ne re- 
 grette pas de vieillir. Ce que je regrette, 
 c'est que mes amis plus jeunes que m,oi n'aient 
 pas eu lesjoies artistiques quefai connues.) 
 
 It has not been the happy fortune of 
 many to meet the geniuses of this world in 
 their own familiar haunts. My " stream of 
 chance " seems to have flowed in an unusual 
 course, and, carrying me beyond the prosaic 
 existence of many New England girls, has 
 brought me into the delightful salons of the 
 Old World, whose presiding spirits are bear 
 con-hghts in Music, Literature, and Art. 
 
 The most brUHant and enchanting epoch 
 of my girlhood was a winter in Rome, and 
 in that delightful and wonderful city came 
 to pass the greatest musical event of my 
 life. Those were still the days when all 
 the world, social as well as religious, flocked 
 to Rome, to witness the great pageants of 
 19 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 the papal court. The old traditions were 
 still in force ; life was still a perpetual festa ; 
 to a girl's fresh eye, it was nothing less 
 than wonderful to see the papal carriage 
 passing through the Roman streets, and, 
 wherever it came, all equipages drawing up 
 at one side and ladies and men alighting, 
 to kneel on the ground and receive the 
 blessing of the good old Pio Nono. 
 
 Within palaces of famous name daily 
 assembled the flower of European culture, 
 and the Fine Arts revived and flourished 
 under the munificent patronage of such 
 hostesses as the Princess Altieri and the 
 Princess Borghese, who flung wide their 
 doors to all the lovers of -Art in cosmopoli- 
 tan Rome. 
 
 It was, however, in the salon of an Ameri- 
 can that I met for the first time the maestro 
 Liszt. Mr. William W. Story, in his spa- 
 cious rooms in the Barberini Palace, had 
 gathered a coterie of musicians and other 
 devotees of Art, in more than one branch 
 of which the distinguished host had made 
 20 
 
LISZT 
 
 himself a name. The rooms were filled, 
 and many persons of distinction were pres- 
 ent, yet all eyes turned toward one man, 
 that brilliant star among musicians, and 
 at that time the idol of the social world, 
 Franz Liszt. 
 
 How well I remember his appearance ! 
 He was then between fifty and sixty years 
 of age, a tall, erect figure, the always noble 
 presence illuminated by a wonderful smile, 
 and by eyes whose flash was " like that of 
 a dagger in the sun." Suddenly I found 
 myself introduced to this greatest pianist 
 of the day; and a new world of music 
 opened before me. With the greatest cor- 
 diality he said to me at once : " All Rome 
 is talking of your voice, mademoiselle ! " 
 "All Europe for years has sung your 
 praises," I hastened to reply. 
 
 Pleased at the quick rejoinder, he said, 
 laughingly, that he should be charmed to 
 play my accompaniments if I would sing 
 that evening ; and, leading the way to the 
 piano, began striking the notes of the prel- 
 21 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 Tide to the grand aria from le Prophete. 
 I shall ever remember the great beauty and 
 tenderness of tone that dropped from those 
 long, thin, expressive fingers as they ca- 
 ressed the keys. I was fearless, under his 
 encouraging eyes, and sang as never before. 
 A stage-fright, which should have been ex- 
 perienced then, comes to me now after so 
 many years, and I tremble to think of the 
 girlish amateur, so untutored in the art of 
 singing, standing in happy confidence be- 
 side the kingly musician. 
 
 And was it not an inspiration to sing 
 under the power of that indescribable 
 charm which had brought all Europe, men 
 and women alike, to the feet of this great 
 master ! Yet he played an accompaniment 
 for an inexperienced girl with all simplicity 
 and kindness. As I finished, one little 
 word in sweetest Italian, " Divinamente ! " 
 was all that he said. From that moment 
 I felt an admiring love for the generous 
 nature of Liszt which I never afterward 
 lost. This little episode did not pass un- 
 22 
 
Franz Liszt 
 
LISZT 
 
 remarked; and Charlotte Cushman, in her 
 deeply dramatic way, said : " What has 
 that child done that she gets on so well 
 with the Abh^ ? There he stands with 
 her in a corner telling stories, and the rest 
 of us dare but gaze on the monarch from 
 afar ! " " Don't you see that it is the mag- 
 netism between music and musicians?" 
 answered a friendly voice. And it is a 
 wonderful tie, this music ! The sympa- 
 thetic emotion is always there, needing but 
 a touch from a kindred hand to waken it 
 to active life. 
 
 The next day, bright and early, Liszt 
 came to ask us to his rooms for music : he 
 had invited a choice few to listen to him, 
 among them the ex-Royalties of Naples. 
 There, in his lovely apartment — his manu- 
 scripts piled high in the adjoining room 
 — in the Santa Francesca convent, full 
 of the warm Roman winter sunshine and 
 overlooking the dusky arches of the Col- 
 osseum, he appeared to best advantage. 
 Liszt must have been always a most de- 
 23 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 Ughtful host, but when he sat at his piano, 
 his head thrown back, the long white hair 
 brushed from his face and falling to his 
 shoulders, even at his age he seemed to me 
 like a god stepped down from Olympus. 
 
 He delighted especially in playing for 
 us the works of Chopin, and who but he 
 could truly understand the ideal creations 
 of the great master whom he had known 
 and loved so well ? I believe that no one 
 has approached Liszt's interpretation of 
 the dehcacy and sentiment of Chopin's un- 
 fathomable genius. 
 
 Listen! An exquisite nocturne sur- 
 rounds us with aU that is most delicious 
 and fleeting in nature ; one hears the soft 
 splash of the waves on the smooth white 
 beach ; a flock of graceful gulls are dipping 
 their white wings in the greenish-blue 
 water, while, close by, a solitary sand- 
 piper skims along the surface of the sea. 
 Again, one pictures " the tremulous flicker 
 of leaves over a bit of sunny ground," the 
 sighing of the wind through balmy pines. 
 24 
 
LISZT 
 
 Our reverie is passing. The melody changes. 
 A witching waltz dances in every nook and 
 corner of the room ; thrilled through and 
 through by its passionate measures, we 
 long for we know not what — but, chiefly, 
 that the perfect strains should never cease. 
 
 On the piano, close at the performer's 
 side lay a cast of Chopin's hand — long, 
 delicate, nervous fingers, such a hand as 
 only the dreamy composer of poetic Etudes 
 and Nocturnes might possess. This first 
 day, intoxicated with the bUssful music, 
 not knowing how to express my youthful 
 enthusiasm, I had almost kissed the pure 
 white sjmabol of marvellous melody. Liszt 
 divined my impulse, and with one sympa- 
 thetic glance from him, our friendship was 
 sealed. 
 
 Above the piano hung the only picture 
 which adorned the room — a portrait of 
 Chopin. Notwithstanding Liszt's affection 
 for the yoiing master, he had but httle 
 sympathy for the latter' s friend, Madame 
 Georges Sand. He believed her influence 
 25 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 sinister, and though usually reticent in the 
 expression of opinion as to persons, his dis- 
 like would occasionally crop out when 
 Madame Sand's name was mentioned. 
 
 When inspired by sympathetic listeners, 
 Liszt would play hour after hour. At such 
 times we dearly loved to watch him, admiring 
 the finely-cut profile that all know so well 
 from his pictures. His face would be fairly 
 radiantwith the fire of genius, and his glance 
 was indeed well compared, as I have said, to 
 " the flash of a dagger in the sunHght." I 
 remember being, in after years, greatly 
 struck with the resemblance of Madame 
 Wagner's eyes to her father's — clear, 
 bright, piercing, and full of intelligence. 
 
 Liszt's Friday afternoons were to me the 
 happiest of all the Roman days, although 
 our waking hours were constantly filled 
 with an ever-shifting panorama of beauti- 
 ful sights and sounds. With the lover of 
 classic Rome we wandered among the ruins 
 of Caracalla's Baths and the Colosseum and 
 the Palatine Hill; we lingered in the 
 26 
 
LISZT 
 
 various piazzas, under the soft blue sky, 
 where the gay, vivacious crowd made a 
 picture peculiarly piquant iu its setting of 
 ancient buildings ; we were fascinated by 
 the curiously ugly palaces, whose treasures 
 of mosaic, painting, and sculpture filled us 
 with wonder, and suggested the still more 
 splendid luxury of imperial Eome. 
 
 Liszt was profoundly impressed by the 
 grandeur and beauty of the Roman Church; 
 and this man of contradictions, though fond 
 of pleasure, loved the simple life of a recluse ; 
 his years of semi-monastic seclusion in- 
 spired "the great religious compositions 
 into which he has poured his purest genius." 
 He told me that his first object in seeking a 
 prolonged residence in Rome was that he 
 might explore the musical archives of the 
 Church, to which as Abb6 he had access. 
 (It must be remembered that the title of 
 Abb6 was simply honorary. Pie never 
 went beyond the minor orders.) The 
 Masses of Liszt do not, however, reflect the 
 diili grey light of the cloister, but rather 
 27 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 the luminous glories of the Cathedral. 
 Saint-Saens, in his sjnnpathetic analysis of 
 the works of Liszt, writes thus : " The great 
 composer of fantasies is a faultless litur- 
 gist. The Credo in his mass composed for 
 the Cathedral in Gran, with its magnificent 
 ceremonials, beautiful harmonies, powerful 
 colouring, and dramatic effect, never theat- 
 rical, and especially appropriate to and ad- 
 missible in the devotions of the Church, is 
 sufl&cient by itself to place the composer in 
 the front rank of great musical poets. 
 Blind is he who does not see it ! " 
 
 One evening Liszt had consented to play 
 at the palace of the Princess Rospigliosi, 
 his own piano, as usual, being sent before 
 him that he might not be subjected to the 
 annoyance of an unfamiliar instrument. 
 He enchanted us by bringing forth from his 
 manuscript treasures a number of his songs, 
 then little known and seldom sung, though 
 to-day his lyric works are placed among the 
 most brilhant of his compositions. Among 
 the songs he kindly taught me on that oc 
 28 
 
LISZT 
 
 casion were " Mignon," "Lorelei," and 
 Victor Hugo's especially charming : " Com- 
 ment, disaient-dls." The last of these con- 
 tinues to be my especial delight, as I sing 
 from a precious copy signed by the Mas- 
 ter's own hand. Every phrase of his 
 poetic melody suggests the romantic spirit 
 and grace of the French theme : 
 
 Comment, disaient4ls, 
 Avec nos nacelles, 
 Fuir les alguazils ? 
 Ramez, disaient-elles. 
 
 Comment, disaient-dls, 
 Ouhlier querelles, 
 Misere et perils? 
 Dorm,ez, disaient-elles. 
 
 Com/ment, disaient-ils. 
 Enchanter les belles. 
 Sans philtres suhtils ? 
 Aimez, disaient-elles. 
 
 Liszt had an unusual appreciation of the 
 
 talent of other musicians, and never any 
 
 petty jealousy. On one occasion a lady 
 
 criticised Rubinstein's rendering of a sonata 
 
 29 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 of Beethoven, saying to Liszt : " It was 
 very well, but not like your interpretation, 
 cher maitre." He silenced her with a 
 " Chut! chut! madame, Rubinstein is a 
 colossus," implying generously that the 
 latter was head and shoulders above him- 
 self. 
 
 What a great heart the Master had ! 
 When Wagner was poor and friendless, 
 and even obhged to write a transcription 
 of Favorita to keep the wolf from the 
 door, it was Liszt alone who sought him 
 out, and by making known through aU 
 Germany the beauties of the New School, 
 saved him from starving in a garret. 
 Liszt was the first to recognise that great 
 master of harmonies, and to raise the 
 young genius on a pedestal where even the 
 worst enemies of Richard Wagner were 
 forced to acknowledge him — " murderer of 
 melody," and " composer of dissonance- 
 music," though they had called him — as 
 king of the Music of the Future. 
 
 Liszt loved to wield the baton over the 
 30 
 
LISZT 
 
 operas of Wagner. When he conducted 
 the performance of Tannhauser, of Rienzi, 
 and of the Flying Dutchman, at the grand- 
 ducal court of Weimar, his own personal 
 fascination and his enthusiasm brought 
 many disciples to the composer. Wagner 
 was lost in delight and astonishment on 
 seeing Liszt conduct a rehearsal of Tann- 
 hauser. "What I had felt in composing 
 the music, he felt in its performance," Wag- 
 ner said. 
 
 The rapturous fervour with which pil- 
 grims now turn their faces towards the 
 glorious mysteries of the Parsifal at Bay- 
 reuth is sufficient proof that Liszt did not 
 overestimate the possibilities of Wagner's 
 mighty genius. It was Liszt's victory over 
 prejudice at Weimar that prepared the 
 way for the triumphant Festivals at Bay- 
 reuth, the most splendid homage to Richard 
 Wagner that could possibly be imagined. 
 
 Wagner was the greatest of the composers 
 for whom Liszt won recognition from a re- 
 luctant public, and that his devotion was 
 31 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 untiring is shown in the touching correspon- 
 dence between the two friends. But I have 
 only recently become aware, in reading La 
 Mora's collection of Liszt's Letters, how 
 great his interest was in promoting the rec- 
 ognition of Schumann as a very eminent 
 composer. As early as 1838, he writes to 
 Schumann, suggesting certain forms of 
 composition — " trios, or possibly a quintet 
 or septet," — adding : " Whatever you de- 
 termine to do, let me know at once, as I 
 should be very glad to have the honour of 
 making it knoWn to the public." Else- 
 where he writes of his delight in Schu- 
 mann's compositions, then almost unknown, 
 and of the difficulties he encountered in 
 placing the young composer's name upon 
 his programmes. He was obliged to force 
 an entrance for him, in the private circles 
 of Milan and Vienna, " where " he writes, 
 " the musicians stiU had their ears too tightly 
 stopped up to be able to comprehend this 
 charming tasteful Cameval, the various 
 numbers of which are harmoniously com- 
 32 
 
LISZT 
 
 bined witli such artistic fancy." And in 
 1857, in a letter to Wasielewski, he says : 
 " I should like to teU you with what sincere, 
 heartfelt, and complete reverence I have 
 followed Schumann's genius during twenty 
 years." 
 
 Again, when Liszt saw the people of Leip- 
 sic, "in dignified ignorance," pass by the 
 youthful genius, Camille Saint-Saens — 
 our present great leader of the French 
 school — he entreated a friend to proclaim 
 the young musician " a distinguished artist, 
 virtuoso, and composer." 
 
 When prejudice was most wide-spread 
 against his own compositions — even Kaff 
 talked of Liszt's " mad enterprises and 
 incapability as a composer" — he calmly 
 writes : " In a few years, I hope, things wiU 
 go better, more rationally and justly, as 
 regards musical matters. Until then, we 
 go forward on our way calm and undis- 
 turbed." In every one of these charming 
 letters to Schumann, Czemy, Bruckner, Ma- 
 son, may be read a lesson of encouragement 
 33 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 to all artists, with or without a name. 
 Everywhere is shown that courage, per- 
 severance, and unfailing good-humour, with 
 an all-pervading devotion to art, which 
 were so apparent to us who met him more 
 or less intimately in daily life. His most 
 trivial letter is hopeful and helpful, radiant 
 with wit and good cheer, as were his words, 
 which I wish that my memory would enable 
 me to repeat. 
 
 Some years later, being again in Rome, I 
 went at once to pay my respects to the mas- 
 ter. He was still at Santa Francesca, in 
 the sunny rooms I so weU remembered. 
 The same immense cat lay comfortably in a 
 large chair. There were the same piles of 
 music, but I think it was at that time that 
 he had had a new piano, a Chickering, pre- 
 sented by the makers, which he much pre- 
 ferred to the Erard of earlier days. As I 
 came in, unannounced, "M. I'Abb^," I 
 said, "I'm afraid you may have forgotten 
 me." With the literally countless number 
 of visitors who flocked to him — even to 
 34 
 
LISZT 
 
 see him being a thing coveted by music- 
 lovers — I thought he might easily have lost 
 from his memory an unimportant amateur 
 like myself. He said not a word in reply, 
 but, turning on his heel, rushed to the 
 piano, sat down, and began playing Meyer- 
 beer's famous aria, which I had been accus- 
 tomed to sing in a former visit to Rome. 
 
 The next morning he came to see us at 
 our hotel, and told us that he had asked 
 some people to come to his rooms the 
 following Friday to hear me sing. "I 
 have only asked ten," he said ; " is that too 
 many?" The delicacy, almost timidity, 
 with which he put the question was very 
 marked, and characteristic of the refined 
 feeling and consideration which this great 
 man showed towards his friends. 
 
 The last time that I saw Liszt was in 
 Paris, in 1886 ; he was at that time visit- 
 ing at the house of Munkaczy the painter. 
 A fine picture of him, just finished by this 
 artist, hung in the salon, and as the master, 
 now an old, old man, sat at the piano, 
 35 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 with, the same grand air for which in 
 youth he had been celebrated, it was inter- 
 esting to compare the portrait with the 
 original. 
 
 One evening near the close of his stay, 
 I met him at the house of the Princesse 
 d'Eckmiihl, Marquise de BloqueviUe, whose 
 salon was at that time famous in Paris. 
 Many grandes dames of the Faubourg 
 Saint-Germain were assembled to do ho- 
 mage to the master. When he came 
 into the room, every one rose, as if at the 
 entrance of royalty. Plants, the well- 
 known pianist, who plays Liszt's composi- 
 tions better than he could himself at that 
 time, performed several of them most 
 exquisitely. Liszt himself played — but 
 not continuously as he would formerly 
 have done. It happened that I was asked 
 to sing the " CoTnment, disaient4ls," of 
 which I have already spoken. He listened 
 with close attention, and exclaimed, as I 
 ceased singing : " C'est trls-hien, trls-hien ! " 
 And I could not but answer : " It was thus 
 36 
 
LISZT 
 
 that I learned it from the Master ! " A 
 few days later he left Paris for Bayreuth 
 and never again returned. 
 
 That evening at Munkaczy's was not, 
 however, the last time that I ever saw the 
 Abb^ Liszt. Two years later I was at Bay- 
 reuth, when Parsifal was given. In the 
 crowded auditorium, before the lights were 
 extinguished, my eye caught the beautiful 
 old white head, so well-known, and the 
 clear, intelhgent eyes, still so full of ex- 
 pression. It was a great dehght to see 
 him, even at a distance. Later, when the 
 performance was over, I did not seek to 
 reach him, so surrounded was the dear old 
 man by an adoring crowd, but I promised 
 myself to go the next day to Mme. Wag- 
 ner's to pay him my respects. Alas ! that 
 night he was suddenly attacked with pneu- 
 monia, and lived but a few hours. 
 
 37 
 
THE MARQ^UISE DE 
 BLOQ^UEVILLE 
 
 39 
 
MARQUISE DE BLOQUEVILLE 
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 THE MARQUISE DE' BLOQUEYILLE. 
 
 I WAS indebted to tlie Abb6 Liszt for my 
 introduction to Madame de Bloqueville, 
 whose delightful home on the quai Mala- 
 quais was for fifty years a place constantly 
 visited by artists and men of letters. Hers 
 was iadeed one of the most noted salons in 
 Paris. 
 
 The Marquise de Bloqueville, Princesse 
 d'Eckmiihl, was the daughter of General 
 Davout, Prince d'Eckmiihl, one of Napo- 
 leon's favourite marshals, famous in many 
 of the Emperor's most important campaigns. 
 The marquise, a thorough patrician, born 
 in the noblest surroundings, was endowed 
 with great beauty and numberless gifts. 
 Her unfortunate married life brought her 
 little, if any, happiness, and having a noble 
 41 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 passion for letters and high culture, she 
 devoted her time largely to literature. 
 These tastes created for her a companion- 
 ship with authors and academiciens, who 
 cordially acknowledged her great superi- 
 ority, and were wont to say that a half- 
 hour passed in the society of the marquise 
 was something to be highly valued. To 
 her very latest day the charm of her con- 
 versation, combined with a great heart and 
 thoroughly genuine nature, attracted to 
 her the fine flew of the intellectual world 
 of Paris, for in these days, when conversa- 
 tion is almost a lost art, this accomplish- 
 ment is indeed precious. Madame de 
 Bloqueville's Monday evenings were fre- 
 quented by poets, clever men, wits, musi- 
 cians, and academiciens who had no 
 specialty but that of being agreeable. 
 Some came to amuse, others to be amused. 
 If the rising poet of the hour had a new 
 theme, it was first to be laid at the feet of 
 la helle marquise, — if Diemer had a new 
 composition for the piano it must first see 
 42 
 
Marquise de Bloqueville 
 
MARQUISE DE BLOQUEVILLE 
 
 light in her presence, and be played to her. 
 M. Charles Widor, now professor at the 
 Conservatoire, whose distinguished com- 
 positions both for organ and orchestra are 
 widely famous, made his debut and first 
 success in this sympathetic salon. 
 
 Among the friends and habitues of the 
 house was at one time Monsieur Caro, a 
 great literary and social lion of the day, 
 whose lectures at the College de France 
 were assiduously frequented by the fair 
 sex. This distinguished man had the mis- 
 fortune to be chosen as a type for a play 
 written by Pailleron, entitled Le monde oh 
 Von s^ennuie. The marquise was under- 
 stood to be the original of the duchesse de 
 E^ville, at whose house the scene is laid ; 
 but hers is the heau rdle of the piece. The 
 duchess is an ideal old lady, brilliant, high- 
 bred, sweet; but M. Caro as "the Pro- 
 fessor" was so ridiculed that he never 
 recovered from the attack, and died shortly 
 after. This amusing comedy was written 
 for the Th^sltre-FranQais, where it was 
 43 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 acted to perfection. Nowwhere else in the 
 world could a play be given with the finesse 
 and distinction that characterise the work 
 of this celebrated theatre. The success of 
 the piece was immense ; night after night 
 the theatre was packed — some went to see 
 a clever play representing French social 
 life and a well-known salon ; others — and 
 they were many — to see a vain academi- 
 cien burlesqued. It was a cruel blow for 
 one of the Immortels to be roughly handled, 
 and it seems hardly just, for the fautmils 
 of this institution are not filled by men 
 of mediocre ability. How the Academie 
 frangaise is esteemed abroad may be ap- 
 preciated in reading Matthew Arnold's 
 words in regard to this " literary tribunal," 
 as he calls it, which was the fulfilment 
 of Richelieu's long-cherished dream of 
 establishing a "high court of letters" in 
 France. How it is regarded at home a 
 French writer may tell us : " L' Academie 
 frangaise is the elite of an elite. No 
 corporate body has ever been a mark for 
 44 
 
MARQUISE DE BLOQUEVILLE 
 
 more reproach, more criticism. None has 
 ever triumphed over all this with more ease 
 and dignity. It fills its own vacancies, 
 as is well known. Its selections are made 
 in a spirit hard to define, yet unvarying. 
 Literary merit guides but does not dominate 
 it. Tact, professional integrity, services 
 rendered to the country, the prestige of 
 rank nobly maintained, loftiness of views, 
 wide general knowledge, the authority of 
 character, are taken into the account in an 
 election to the Academy. The illustrious 
 company, moreover, offers no compensa- 
 tion to its members. Hence, perhaps, its 
 power and its indestructibility." 
 
 Madame de Bloqueville was a legitimist 
 and a good Catholic with very strong con- 
 victions, but she had the broadmindedness 
 to allow all topics to be freely discussed in 
 her presence. This considerate maitresse 
 de maison always had some pleasant sur- 
 prise in store for us at her weekly dinners, 
 which were renowned for brilliant conver- 
 sation. We were frequently under the 
 45 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 charm of one or another author. I remem- 
 ber with special interest choice bits which 
 Mile, de I'Herpin (Lucien Perrey) — the 
 author of those fine romances, La Princesse 
 de Ligne, Ilistoire d'une grande dame du 
 XVIII siecle, Roman du grand roi — 
 related to us from the results of her re- 
 search for historical material. I believe 
 there have rarely been more enjoyable 
 evenings than those spent in Madame de 
 Bloqueville's salon. It was often my priv- 
 ilege to sing, at her request, the " Maid of 
 Athens," one of her favourite songs, set to 
 music by Gounod. One evening the com- 
 tesse d'H., a friend of the marquise, who 
 chanced to be present, declared with great 
 authority that "Lord Byron never wrote 
 that poem." The statement was at once 
 questioned, of course : a lady near me with 
 great naivete suggested that the comtesse 
 ought to know as she had written a mem- 
 oir of Lord Byron. I beheve that this 
 lady thoxight Madame d'H. was correct in 
 her extraordinary statement ! The discus- 
 46 
 
MARQUISE DE BLOQUEVILLE 
 
 sion quickly ended, as no one sought to con- 
 vince the conxtesse of her error, the origin 
 of which forever remained unknown to us ; 
 but it did not interfere with our apprecia- 
 tion of Gounod's fine musical setting which 
 adds so greatly to the charm of the poem. 
 
 Besides her sympathetic appreciation of 
 others' literary work, Madame de Bloque- 
 ville was herself an author. The Villa 
 Jasmin, Perdita, and Rome, are well- 
 known among her earher books, but her 
 literary production of most value is .the 
 memoir of her illustrious father, Louis 
 Davout, Mareschal de France. This memoir, 
 to which she devoted many years of her 
 life, was published in 1889. The hero of 
 Auerstadt was fairly idoUsed by his daugh- 
 ter, and his character and home life as 
 described by her are full of affection and 
 charm. Her portraiture of him dissipates 
 the impression which has existed of Dar 
 vout's cruelty and severity ; or at least it 
 proves clearly that in his home he was 
 loving and beloved to an unusual degree. 
 47 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 The marquise describes the battle of 
 Echmlihl, for which her father was given 
 the title of Prince, in honour of the fiercest 
 cavalry charge on record. Lord Rosebery, 
 in his recent book on the last days of Na- 
 poleon, mentions that at St. Helena the Em- 
 peror recurred with constant pride to the 
 strategy of Eckmiihl, that superb manoeuvre, 
 "the finest I ever executed," where, 
 with fifty thousand men, he defeated a 
 hundred and twenty thousand. " In the 
 year 1806," says Madame de BloqueviUe, 
 " Napoleon, wishing to recompense Davout 
 for his bravery at the battle of Auerstadt, 
 ordered that, with the brave Third Corps, 
 he should enter Berlin first." 
 
 Living during the summer months on 
 the coast of Normandy, the marquise had 
 her sympathies intensely aroused for the 
 unfortunate situation of the sailors. Ship- 
 wrecks in the vicinity were of frequent 
 occurrence, and the coast was insufiiciently 
 lighted; accordingly, she made provision 
 in her will of three hundred thousand 
 48 
 
MARQUISE " DE BLOQUEVI LLE 
 
 francs to erect a lighthouse at its most 
 dangerous unprotected point. Her chari- 
 ties were many, and her loyalty to her 
 friends will live forever in the hearts of 
 those who frequented her house. To enjoy 
 her friendship was a great honour and hap- 
 piness, and only those who knew her well 
 knew how truly noble she was. Even 
 Pailleron's keen and malicious shafts of 
 ridicule, falling all about her, were never 
 directed against herself. 
 
 As became the daughter of a Marshal 
 of the Empire, she was ignorant of fear. 
 When Prussian shells were bursting around 
 her, she remained tranquil. During the 
 last convulsions of the Commune it was 
 made known to her that a group of insur- 
 gents were seeking entrance to her house. 
 HastUy she attired herself in full dress to 
 receive them, and ordered the doors of her 
 grand salon to be opened wide. The com- 
 munards came in tumultuously, but as she 
 stood there, gracious and undismayed, and 
 bade them welcome, their mood changed ; 
 49 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 they bowed low before her, and retired, 
 ashamed at the evil thing they had pro- 
 posed to do. They had come to pour petro- 
 leum about the house, and were intending 
 to prepare adjoining houses in the same 
 way for the flames. But one woman's 
 courage and gentleness saved the whole 
 neighbourhood. 
 
 About five years since, the Marquise de 
 Bloqueville passed away, having been for 
 years an invalid and a great sufferer, — a 
 refined and beautiful soul, for half a century 
 a social power in Paris, simple and noble, 
 a true gentlewoman and a femme lettree 
 of real distinction. I bow in admiration 
 before une des plus grandes dames de France, 
 the distinguished daughter of an illustrious 
 man. 
 
 50 
 
PAUL DESCHANEL 
 
 51 
 
PAUL DESCHANEL 
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 PAUL DESCHANEL. 
 
 One of the most prominent and impor- 
 tant men in political life at the present 
 moment in France is Paul Deschanel, now 
 President of the Chamber of Deputies. 
 Somewhere about the year 1884 I began to 
 meet very frequently in society a young 
 gentleman whose name at first was un- 
 known to me, but who surprised me by the 
 charm of his conversation. I soon dis- 
 covered that he was very skilled in the 
 subtle art of pleasing, and also that he had 
 great intelligence, strong convictions, and 
 an endless store of information about all 
 subjects of which he spoke. I remember 
 saying to a friend that that young man 
 had a brilliant future before him. It was 
 noticeable that he was an immense favour- 
 53 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 ite in society, ever ready and willing, with 
 his extreme versatility of talent, to act in 
 a comedy or a charade, to recite a poem — 
 which he did most gracefully — or to give 
 his aid in whatever plan was on foot for 
 an evening's entertainment. M. Deschanel 
 well deserves being called (as he often 
 is) un homme seduisant, for he is brilliant, 
 amusing, full of wit, very responsive in 
 conversation, yet quite as ready to talk 
 with the dullest of people, and to do this, 
 too, to all appearance, with as much in- 
 terest as if they had been great intellectual 
 stars. 
 
 At the age of twenty-nine M. Deschanel 
 was elected deputy from the Department of 
 Eure-et-Loir, being supported by Gam- 
 betta and the republican press. At that 
 time his whole appearance was (as it still 
 is) very youthful. One evening in Jan- 
 uary of the year 1886, I was expecting 
 some friends at dinner, M. Deschanel 
 among the nrnnber. In the time that had 
 elapsed between the invitation and the day 
 54 
 
PAUL DESCHANEL 
 
 for the dinner, he had become quite a hero, 
 as he had delivered, in the Chamber of 
 Deputies, his maiden speech, considered by 
 one and all exceptionally fine, and winning 
 golden opinions on every hand. One can 
 imagine his arrival that evening at dinner, 
 how he was greeted, and the homage paid 
 him, for a success Hke that can hardly fail 
 of having its echo in the social world. The 
 subject of M. Deschanel's maiden speech 
 was a defence of the cause of French Agri- 
 culture, a rather dull topic, one would say, 
 but his eloquence and finished oratory 
 made the grain redolent with romance, and 
 rye and barley as fragrant as " the sweet 
 daffodils." He achieved on that day not 
 only a conquest in the Chamber, but also 
 made a decided advance in his career as 
 un homme politique. 
 
 M. Deschanel speaks in pubHc exceed- 
 ing well. He makes an impression of great 
 sincerity in all that he says, and seems to 
 have a love for France, higher and greater 
 than all party feeling. One may truly say 
 65 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 of him : '^patriot avant tout : je ne connais 
 pas de plus heau titre ! " 
 
 M. Deschanel's ideas, whether conservar 
 tive or radical, flash like sparks, when 
 talking. He is firm, courageous, deter- 
 mined, and defends with ardour every posi- 
 tion that he assumes. On the other hand, 
 I remember his wonderful tact on occasion 
 of a dejeuner with friends at a moment of 
 great public excitement; he was persis- 
 tently silent while opinions were advanced 
 on the subject which was then passionately 
 stirring the whole of France and indeed the 
 whole civilised world. Efforts to force an 
 expression of opinion on his part were 
 met by a pleasant smile, or a "vraiment, 
 madame, vous pensez cela? " which at once 
 stopped further argument. There could be 
 no doubt he was quite as weU informed on 
 this much vexed question, and had given it 
 as much serious consideration, as those who 
 injudiciously brought it up. At such mo- 
 ments tact is a fine art and a most inval- 
 uable quality to possess. 
 66 
 
Paul Deschanel 
 
PAUL DESCHANEL 
 
 In Ms second year as deputy he again 
 spoke in behalf of the protection of French 
 agriculture: and in his third year, 1888, 
 he made a very remarkable success by an 
 eloquent defence of French interests in the 
 East. Thousands of copies of this speech 
 were circulated in European Turkey, in 
 Syria, and in Palestine, and the Sultan 
 sent, by his ambassador at Paris, the in- 
 signia of the grand cross of the Medjidie, 
 and grand officer of the Osmani^ to the 
 young deputy. 
 
 In December 1891 he was entrusted by 
 the French government with an official 
 mission to the United States, and I had the 
 pleasure of giving him, at his request, let- 
 ters of iatroduction to some of my friends. 
 He was most enthusiastic at the thought of 
 this journey, and the visit to a sister Re- 
 public. He fairly bristled with trades-unions, 
 labour and capital, political economy, John 
 Stuart Mill, socialism, and the like. This 
 interest was very pleasant to see, in these 
 days of general apathy as to pubUc affairs 
 67 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 on the part of the young men one meets in 
 society. 
 
 After eleven years in the Chamber he^ 
 was elected its Vice-President, and in 1899 
 its President. In this high office he has 
 served with very great distinction, being, 
 as has been said, " in the very highest 
 sense of the word the ' professional ' presid- 
 ing officer, the strictly impartial arbiter." 
 On the death of President Faure, M. 
 Deschanel's name was mentioned at the 
 same time with M. Loubet's as a possible 
 candidate for the presidency of the Repub- 
 ho ; but his candidacy was not deemed 
 expedient at that time. 
 
 In 1899 he was elected member of the 
 Academic fran9aise, the one great honour 
 coveted by every Frenchman. This placed 
 him in the front rank as a man of letters 
 as well as a statesman. As early as 1888, 
 the Academy had "crowned" one of his 
 works : Orateurs et hommes d^Utat, a re- 
 markable series of studies on Frederic II. 
 and Bismarck, Fox and Pitt, Lord Grey, 
 58 
 
PAUL DESCHANEL 
 
 Talleyrand, Berryer and Gladstone, in tlie 
 form of reviews of volumes on these dif- 
 .ferent statesmen which, at that time had 
 lately been published in France. The pref- 
 ace to this work gives a charming insight 
 into the mind and character of this young 
 man, himself already, at the age of thirty- 
 two, a statesman and an orator. " They 
 are not," 'he says, " biographies, but are 
 discussions of certain points of history, 
 upon which recent works have thrown light 
 and re-opened controversy. Nor are they 
 studies of pure curiosity : we have a more 
 direct and pressing interest in these ques- 
 tions than one of historic exactitude ; it is 
 of infinite concern to us, in respect to our 
 own public affairs, to judge correctly, for 
 instance, of our first conflicts with Prussia, 
 our last struggles with England, the forma- 
 tion of contemporary Europe, the vicissi- 
 tudes of parliamentary government, the 
 progress of democracy among our neigh- 
 bours. — In speaking impartially of some of 
 the great adversaries of our country, there 
 69 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 may be risk of wounding certain worthy 
 sentiments. — Doubtless the truth is hard 
 to hear, sometimes, and harder stiU to 
 write, but though it wound our f eehngs, it 
 increases our experience, and thus promotes 
 our interests ; if a kind of patriotism suffers, 
 a higher patriotism tells us that it is for the 
 profit of France. — It is French prejudices, 
 it is our persistent self-deception, it is our 
 ignorance as to other countries and our 
 inaptitude to enter into other men's minds, 
 that have been our ruin." 
 
 In 1889 another book by M. Deschanel 
 was honoured by the Academy. This was 
 entitled Figures defemmes, and consisted of 
 exquisite sketches of Mme. du Deffand, 
 Mile. d'Epinay, Mme. Necker, Mme. de 
 Beaumont, and Mme. R^camier. A third 
 work, entitled Figures litteraires, completed 
 the trio of his purely literary books, to 
 which may be added many articles, critical 
 and historic, in the great French reviews. 
 In poHtics his published works are nu- 
 merous, chieflyon French interests in the Far 
 60 
 
PAUL DESCHANEL 
 
 East, and on social questions of great pres- 
 ent importance. Hence it was with justice 
 that the Academic franqaise called him to 
 fill the vacant chair of Edouard Hervd. 
 
 At M. Deschanel's reception the opening 
 of his speech startled that eminently re- 
 spectable body of men, being a touching 
 tribute to his mother, phrased in the re- 
 fined and well-chosen language and de- 
 livered with the finished eloquence for 
 which he is distinguished. His speech was 
 received with unquahfied approval, and was 
 rapturously applauded ; it was a deviation, 
 certainly, from common usage in that sanc- 
 tuary, but it had a telling effect : after all, 
 it is quite as lofty to praise a good and 
 noble woman, as to eulogise and exaggerate 
 for a whole hour the merits of a possibly 
 dull academicien. 
 
 In the year 1901, M. Deschanel married 
 Mile. Brice, the grand-daughter of Camille 
 Doucet, President of the French Academy, 
 a charming and inteUigent woman, who 
 will be a faithful and sympathetic com- 
 61 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 panion in whatever future distinction may 
 await him. Up to this time his march for- 
 ward has been almost without parallel, as 
 if at the touch of a magic wand. Every- 
 thing in his case seems to indicate the great 
 leader, and many hopes gather about his 
 future. May every success await him, who, 
 amid the strife of contending factions, works 
 faithfully for his country's good and the 
 well-being of a young Republic ! 
 
 62 
 
BENJAMIN-CONSTANT 
 
 63 
 
BENJAMIN-CONSTANT 
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 
 BENJAMIN-COlirSTAlfT. 
 
 In one of the old quarters of Paris, in 
 the rue Pigalle, is situated a very interest- 
 ing house of rather quaint style. Enter- 
 ing by a large court and turning to the 
 right, the visitor is ushered into a square, 
 old-fashioned room, hung with handsome 
 old tapestries. Over the chimney hangs a 
 full-length portrait of the mistress of the 
 house, who graciously advances to greet her 
 friends with the ease and manner of a high- 
 bred Frenchwoman. Had Mme. Benjamin- 
 Constant stepped out of a frame in the 
 gallery of Versailles, she could not look 
 more picturesque, nor more like a grande 
 dame of the eighteenth century, with her 
 beautiful white hair en pompadour, and her 
 favourite Marie Antoinette fichu. She is 
 65 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 the daughter of M. Arago, who was for 
 many years French ambassador to the 
 Swiss Republic, and her grandfather was 
 the great astronomer, Franqois Arago. 
 
 The hospitality of the atelier is soon 
 offered to the visitor, and it has been a 
 great pleasure to find M. Benjamin-Con- 
 stant there, surrounded by aU beautiful 
 things, of which the most beautiful are 
 some of his own pictures. As I write the 
 very sad news of his death is filling with 
 grief the hearts of his many friends and 
 admirers, and telegrams of sympathy are 
 coming from all the countries of Europe to 
 the desolate widow. 
 
 This great painter's death in the very 
 prime of life, and at the period of his greatr 
 est successes, is indeed a serious loss to 
 France and the world. Bom in Paris in 
 1845, he was very early a student at the 
 Beaux-Arts and in the atelier of Cabanel. 
 His first picture in the Salon, when he was 
 but twenty-four, representing Hamlet and 
 the King, was at once recognised as a work 
 66 
 
BENJAMIN-CONSTANT 
 
 of genius. His brilliant colouring in Moor- 
 ish and Oriental subjects gained great ap- 
 plause, but his later work in portraits 
 reached a much higher level. Whenever 
 his name has been mentioned in this last 
 year, every one's thoughts turn at once to 
 the great Victorian picture now owned by 
 King Edward, though it was painted to the 
 order of Sir Wm. Ingram, proprietor of the 
 Illustrated London News, and intended for 
 reproduction as etching, heliogravure, or 
 chromo. 
 
 The painter's own story of this picture 
 in Harper's Monthly for May 1901, is 
 besides a most interesting fragment of 
 autobiography, with its vast difficulties, and 
 the courage that overcame them, and the 
 indomitable soul that said : " When a thing 
 must be done, it is done." The conception 
 was one of great originality — " to express, 
 as it were, an entire reign," — " to express, 
 so to speak, a synthesis of resemblance ; a 
 resemblance, moreover, rather moral than 
 physical, almost a historical vision." — "At 
 67 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 length," lie says finally, " after protracted 
 studies, full of moments of doubt and hes- 
 itation, I beheld emerging from the gloom, 
 little by little, the luminous figure of the 
 sovereign, serene and dignified, gazing into 
 the future, as if oblivious of her surround- 
 ings, on the throne of state, victorious, as 
 her name indicates." 
 
 I have spoken of the vast difficulties of 
 this achievement. The painter had no sit- 
 tings, he was unfamiliar with the face and 
 expression of the Queen, all that he had to 
 guide him were photographs and " a small, 
 very exact Hkeness " he says, — which 
 from the context, one might judge to be 
 enamel. He had been much impressed, 
 on a visit to the House of Lords one day 
 with effects of light and shade, a certain 
 " golden obscurity " suggestive of Eem- 
 brandt's interiors ; and he has represented 
 the Qvieen seated there, in the large Gothic 
 oaken chair. A ray of sunlight streams 
 across the figure, the broad blue ribbon of 
 the Garter crosses the breast and around 
 68 
 
BENJAMIN-CONSTANT 
 
 her is gracefully draped some fine old soft 
 ■white lace, while the dainty hand, for 
 which her Majesty has been celebrated, re- 
 poses on the arm of the chair. A more 
 majestic and dignified pose could not be 
 imagined. 
 
 After the picture had been bought by 
 the Queen and taken to Windsor, the 
 painter was summoned from Paris for an 
 interview with her Majesty. Having di- 
 rected the placing of the portrait, the artist 
 relates how breathlessly he awaited her 
 coming, and his intense anxiety in respect 
 to the Hkeness. The door opened and he 
 found himself in the presence of Queen 
 Victoria. She came forward, leaning on 
 the arm of her Indian servant, carrying a 
 cane in her other hand, walking slowly and 
 with evident difficulty — but every inch 
 the Queen, though nearly eighty years of 
 age and very short of stature, less than five 
 feet in height. She approached and looked 
 at the beautiful portrait before her ; she 
 was evidently much pleased with it, and 
 69 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 her gracious and kindly expressions of ap- 
 preciation were deeply felt by the artist, 
 and he was also much impressed by her 
 Majesty's perfect French, spoken without 
 the slightest accent. That he should be 
 addressed in his own language was most 
 gratifying to the painter as he was not at 
 all familiar with English. 
 
 It was after the exhibition of this pic- 
 ture in Paris, at the Exposition of 1900, 
 that Benjamin-Constant received the high- 
 est rank (that of Commandeur) of the Le- 
 gion of Honour. He was also a member of 
 the Academic des Beaux-Arts. In the pic- 
 ture here given he is represented in the 
 famous traditional dress of the members 
 of the Academy, which is of dark green 
 with palm-leaves in gold embroidery. 
 
 Another very distinguished portrait by 
 this artist is that of Pope Leo XIII. 
 painted in the same year with that of 
 Queen Victoria. In this case, however, 
 there was no difficulty about sittings. The 
 Holy Father was perfectly willing to pose, 
 70 
 
J.-J. Benjamin-Constant 
 
BENJAMIN-CONSTANT 
 
 and made the time pass agreeably for tlie 
 painter with much delightful conversation. 
 It is a most striking canvas, and in the 
 best style. The Pope's very fine face, 
 with its clear-cut features, reveals at once 
 the prelate and the diplomat, combining 
 great spirituahty and great intelligence, — 
 all of which M. Benjamin-Constant has 
 succeeded in rendering in this picture. 
 From the extremely white and thin face 
 gleam two luminous, kindly eyes like 
 stars, which seem to look out over the 
 whole Catholic world of which he is the 
 head. The long slender hand seems about 
 to be raised in benediction over all suffer- 
 ing humanity. The work is masterly in 
 execution, and a very faithful portrait of 
 one of the most intelligent and remarkable 
 men of the present time. 
 
 Among the portraits by M. Benjamin- 
 Constant which I saw in his atelier I re- 
 member with special interest a fine picture 
 of Lord Dufferin in his vice-regal robes; 
 also one of his son, Lord Ava, whose life 
 71 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 was sacrificed in the South African war. 
 This portrait was a gift to Lord Dufferin 
 hy the English residents in Paris while he 
 was Ambassador to France. 
 
 It is impossible to express one's regret 
 that the brilliant career of this great 
 painter should have been cut short by 
 death. Besides his remarkable ability as 
 an artist, he was a man of very fine in- 
 telligence, of ready wit and most amiable 
 traits of character. His descent from the 
 family to which belonged the Benjamin- 
 Constant who was so famous during the 
 First Empire, the friend of madame de Stael 
 and of the brilliant group of philosophic 
 statesmen of that day, doubtless gave him 
 uncommon natural advantages, and his 
 industry and perseverance were immense. 
 It is a pleasure to think that he received, 
 even in his Hfetime, the reward of excep- 
 tional success. 
 
 72 
 
MUNKACZY 
 
 73 
 
MUNKACZY 
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 
 MUNKACZY. 
 
 Michel Munkaczy, a Hungarian artist, 
 born in 1844, was first known in Paris by 
 his picture, "The Last Days of the Con- 
 demned, " exhibited at the Salon of 1870. 
 This was the painter's first real success. 
 Previously, he had experienced much pov- 
 erty and misfortune, first in Pesth, Vienna, 
 and Munich, and lastly in DUsseldorf, but 
 always striving for excellence with daunt- 
 less perseverance. 
 
 After years of hardship, the sale of 
 this picture to Goupil (from whom it was 
 afterwards purchased by Miss Catherine 
 Wolfe of New York), gave him the means 
 to carry out his most ardent wish and be- 
 come a resident of Paris, although Paris at 
 that time was hostile ground for a painter 
 75 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 of the Munich School — Fortuny, the Span- 
 ish artist, being the fashion there, and 
 absorbing the attention of art^loving Pari- 
 sians. 
 
 In 1878, Munkaczy exhibited at the Ex- 
 position the picture of "Milton dictating 
 Paradise Lost to his two daughters," which 
 won for him the medal of honour and a 
 European fame ; and finally he succeeded 
 in gaining the approval of aU the most 
 diflB.cult Parisian critics. It was now but a 
 short step for him to affluence and content 
 of mind. He married a lady from Luxem- 
 bourg who possessed a large fortune, and 
 established himself in a beautiful house in 
 the Louis XIII. style, in the avenue de 
 Villiers. His principal studio was a grand 
 room in the top of the house. The fine 
 oaken staircase by which we reached this 
 studio was hung aU the way up with old 
 tapestries, and, in fact, the whole house 
 was a very museum of exquisite bric-^- 
 brac, and olyets d'art. AU visitors were 
 warmly welcomed by the master of the 
 76 
 
MUNKACZY 
 
 house, and Mme. Munkaczy seconded him 
 in cordiality. There is a portrait of Mme. 
 Munkacsy seated in her husband's studio, 
 which is pretty and picturesque, and has 
 been greatly admired. This lady had the 
 good fortune to make her salon very at- 
 tractive, receiving the most distinguished 
 men of the day, authors, artists, and musi- 
 cians ; on one occasion I remember that 
 Paderewski contributed to our pleasure by 
 playing for us — it was, I believe, the first 
 time he had played in a private house in 
 Paris. I had a very pleasant conversation 
 with him about Liszt, whom he greatly ad- 
 mired but had never seen, and that evening 
 he played some of Liszt's compositions 
 with great finish and style. 
 
 Munkaczy's next important production 
 (in 1880) was a sacred theme, a colossal 
 picture, " Christ before Pilate, in the Praeto- 
 rimn," the finest and most realistic of all 
 his paintings, and one that has most deeply 
 moved the whole world. It is indeed a 
 very impressive picture ; the types of the 
 77 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 faces, in their force and variety, as well as 
 the chief figure, are most remarkable. 
 
 A later work of Munkaczy's is a paint- 
 ing which represents Mozart in his last 
 hours ; this picture was first shown to an 
 invited assembly of friends at the painter's 
 own house. It was ingeniously lighted, as 
 only an artist could have planned ; and a 
 concealed orchestra and chorus performed 
 Mozart's Requiem. This composition, as is 
 well known, was the dying song of a grand 
 and noble musician ; its character is that 
 of the highest religious solemnity. It oc- 
 cupied Mozart's latest hours and, left in- 
 complete at his death, was finished in 
 accordance with the master's plan by one 
 of his pupils. During the afternoon that 
 preceded Mozart's death, the score of the 
 Requiem, as far as completed, was brought 
 to his bed, and some of the music was 
 sung. It is said that when the Lacrymosa 
 was executed he wept bitterly, and bade 
 them take away the score. 
 
 The exhibition of Munkaczy's picture, 
 78 
 
Michel Munkaczy 
 

 
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MUNKACZY 
 
 accompanied by the music of the celebrated 
 Requiem, so full of deep religious feeling, 
 was intensely interesting — particularly to 
 those present who loved Mozart's composi- 
 tions, and who knew the sad and disap- 
 pointed life of this unsurpassed artist, often 
 obliged to give a lesson that he might earn 
 a little money for the day's actual needs. 
 At the moment the covering was with- 
 drawn from the picture, and the exquisite 
 strains of the rarely beautiful choral, per- 
 formed by perfectly-trained singers from 
 the Conservatoire, with faint notes of the 
 violins broke the absolute silence of the 
 room, the emotion of the audience could be 
 felt — an emotion made up of enthusiasm 
 and sympathy. It seemed to glorify the 
 lovely face on the canvas, and as if we 
 could hear the great composer saying : " I 
 have come to the end, without having 
 reaped the happiness my talent should have 
 brought me," — "and yet, life was so 
 beautiful ! " Again, as he explained to 
 his pupils how the Requiem should be fin- 
 79 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 ished : " Did I not say that I was writing it 
 for myself?" Haydn pathetically says: 
 " I must always weep when I hear my dear 
 Mozart's name " ; and elsewhere, with great 
 authority: "Posterity wiU wait long for 
 such another to appear." 
 
 Munkaczy's picture is now in the Metro- 
 politan Museum of New York. The work 
 has been somewhat criticised, but it seems 
 to me rather unjustly. The difficulties of 
 such a task were extreme ; it was, however, 
 a cherished dream of the Hungarian artist, 
 and he gave his whole soul and talent to 
 its fulfilment. 
 
 In personal appearance Munkaczy was 
 very handsome, taU and imposing, with a 
 finely shaped head crowned by masses of 
 white hair. He was simple and unpreten- 
 tious in manner, and in conversation he 
 was duU ; in fact, he never talked, being, 
 as near as possible, an absolutely silent 
 man. A few years ago he was attacked by 
 a disease of the brain from which he never 
 recovered, and the handsome Louis-Treize 
 80 
 
MUNKACZY 
 
 hdtel, with its rare collection of bibelots, 
 was sold. The artist was removed to Ger- 
 many, wbere he died. This hospitable 
 home will long be remembered as one of 
 the few houses in Paris where mediocrity- 
 had no place, and you were sure of meeting 
 notabihties from all the countries of Eu- 
 rope. 
 
 81 
 
MADELEINE LEMAIRE 
 
 83 
 
MADELEINE LEMAIRE 
 
 CHAPTER Vn. 
 
 MADELEINE LEMAIKE. 
 
 Who that knows her does not love Ma- 
 dame Madeleine Lemaire, the most gracious 
 and fascinating of women and a most bril- 
 liant star in the artistic world of Paris! 
 At a soiree at Princess Scilla's, some years 
 since, my attention was attracted by a very 
 sympathetic and intelligent face; I asked 
 this lady's name, and was told that my 
 inconnue was the famous aquarellist, Made- 
 leine Lemaire. 
 
 She kindly invited me to visit her in her 
 pretty studio in the rue Monceau. The 
 room seemed a veritable floral bower. The 
 artist was surrounded by roses (which are 
 her favourite models) in the greatest pro- 
 fusion and the most brilHant colouring. She 
 gave me the warmest of welcomes, and in- 
 85 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 troduced to me her charming daughter. As 
 we talked, my eyes could not but glance 
 about this ideal home, attracted by a mul- 
 titude of beautiful objects. On the wall, in 
 a prominent position, hangs a lovely por- 
 trait of Mile. Lemaire by Chaplin ; there are 
 numerous sketches by Mme. Lemaire her- 
 self, and many precious souvenirs from 
 artist friends. This was truly a red-letter 
 day to me, marking as it did the beginning 
 of a delightful friendship. This sweet- 
 natured woman contributes in ways innu- 
 merable to the happiness of all who know 
 her. Not infrequently she lends the aid of 
 her talent to the charities of Paris. Her 
 exquisitely painted fans are among the 
 greatest treasures offered for sale at charity- 
 bazaars, and her graceful designs, sometimes 
 pencil-drawings, sometimes in sepia or India- 
 ink, sometimes in colour, representing either 
 figures or flowers, and admirably reproduced, 
 serve to embellish programmes of the even- 
 ing's entertainment ; or else, as in the case 
 of the one given here, draw attention to an 
 86 
 
Madeleine Lemaire 
 
MADELEINE LEMAIRE 
 
 appeal, poetic or otherwise, for tlie partic- 
 ular charity in hand. 
 
 One cannot wonder that "All Paris" 
 seeks an entree to this unique house, for 
 Mme. Lemaire's salon is essentially eclectic, 
 and has a distinct cachet of its own. Under 
 the influence of the cultivated and intellec- 
 tual groups who gather there, artistic talent 
 of whatever kind seems to expand, Hke 
 Mme. Lemaire's own roses, and to possess 
 more brilliancy than elsewhere, for the 
 subtle charm of sympathetic surroundings 
 brings the children of genius to their best. 
 
 The little studio is often filled to over- 
 flowing with noble and clever guests. 
 Dukes and duchesses, princes, artists, actors, 
 celebrities from all parts of Europe, rejoice 
 in the genial and magnetic atmosphere sur- 
 rounding our queen of flowers and her 
 pretty daughter. 
 
 The most famous French actors are ready 
 
 to ofier their services for Madame Lemaire's 
 
 pleasure. The recollection of a little comedy 
 
 given at her house by Coquelin, R^jane, 
 
 87 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 and Baron brings back the laughter with 
 which we greeted the performance. Ripples 
 of dehghted merriment seemed to spread 
 over the audience from every gesture and 
 word of these inimitable artists, and what an 
 audience it was ! And of what a rare kind 
 the appreciation — that response meeting 
 genius upon the instant with delighted 
 and complete comprehension of the hon-mot, 
 the jeu dl esprit, the unlooked-for situation ! 
 There was the almost incessant murmur 
 of applause so spontaneous as to be uncon- 
 scious of its own utterance — that one hears 
 only from a Parisian audience — stimulat- 
 ing the actors to even greater excellence. 
 The play itself was only a clever trifle, but 
 it was written expressly for Mme. Lemaire 
 and never performed elsewhere, which gave 
 it immense distinction. Quite unaware of 
 the exclusiveness which attached to this Httle 
 • gem, I asked Mme. Lemaire, a few days 
 later, if I might take it home to read. She, 
 who, as a rule, granted all favours so gra- 
 ciously, felt obliged to deny this. Mme. 
 88 
 
Design : " Charity ' 
 
MADELEINE LEMAIRE 
 
 Lemaire's studio is a little building in the 
 court-yard of her house, and for the per- 
 formance of this play, she built out a tem- 
 porary extension of it, so that there was 
 suflB.cient space for the stage and an excel- 
 lent auditorium for the guests. 
 
 Whether it is a little play, acted by the 
 great artists of the Th^S^tre-Fran^ais in 
 her atelier with its annex thrown out for 
 the occasion, or a Pavane, danced by a bal- 
 let troupe from the Grand Op^ra on a 
 platform in the open air, on the islet in the 
 lake of the Bois de Boulogne at one of 
 Mme. Lemaire's summer fetes, or whatever 
 she may have arranged for the pleasure of 
 her guests, it is sure to be interesting. 
 
 Thoroughly as she is the accomplished 
 hostess, however, and the charming /emme 
 du monde, she is none the less the finished 
 and versatile artist. Her talent is by no 
 means confined to flowers, but in figures 
 and portraits she has had great success. A 
 fine portrait of Coquelin as Gringoire has 
 been greatly admired. The accomplished 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 critic Charles Blanc paid lier a very high 
 tribute of praise some years ago : after 
 speaking of her superb colouring in floral 
 representations, he says of her work that it 
 is "Ze dernier mot de V aquarelle," which 
 means, I suppose, that it is the consum- 
 mate perfection of water-colour painting. 
 
 Madame Lemaire is at present employed 
 upon a set of illustrations for Owen Mere- 
 dith's Ludle shortly to be published. Pre- 
 vious illustrations from her pencil which 
 have been greatly admired are those of 
 Hervieu's Flirt, VAhhe Constantin, and 
 Daudet's Lettres d'un Moulin. 
 
 I have given but a brief sketch of this 
 artist, who holds so eminent a position in 
 Paris. We, less gifted, are grateful for 
 the privilege of knowing her, and enjoy- 
 ing the pleasures of her enchanted atelier. 
 The rare personality of Mme. Lemaire seems 
 to be expressly described in the well-known 
 words : "To be charming, gifted, and be- 
 loved is most precious, but to be charming, 
 gifted, beloved, and good — is ideal ! " 
 90 
 
COQUELIN 
 
 91 
 
COQUELIN 
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 COQUELIN. 
 
 It is not witliout great hesitation that I 
 ventiire to add a few touches to the por- 
 traiture that many able pens have already 
 made of this famous actor, whose name is 
 so widely known in two hemispheres ; and 
 yet I feel that to omit all mention of him 
 would leave my reminiscences very incom- 
 plete, for it is a joy to recall the many yes- 
 terdays of our friendship, dating from long 
 before M. Coquelin left the TheS,tre-Fran- 
 Qais. 
 
 Coquelin is so qualified to see quickly 
 into the heart of a difl&cult play, and so fully 
 endowed with the capacity of representing 
 it as it should be, that he is amply fitted 
 for the career he has chosen. 
 
 Every lover of the stage is famiHar with 
 93 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 the leading traits of this actor's impersonar 
 tions. His immense versatility is well- 
 known. While he is par excellence the 
 great comedian of the day, he is also mar- 
 vellously capable of representing to us 
 heroic and pathetic characters. Tenderness, 
 self-sacrifice, patriotism, are all within his 
 scope, while yet in personal appearance 
 nature would seem to have marked him out 
 expressly for the audacious, the quizzical, 
 the comically impudent. Besides the re- 
 markable mental gifts which make this 
 wide range possible to him it is doubtless 
 also due to the extreme fidelity of his work. 
 It has been noted that many actors, in a 
 given rSle, consider the situations only, 
 completely disregarding the author's con- 
 ception of the' character, so that, whatever 
 the rSle, it is always the actor's own per- 
 sonality that is most in evidence. Not so 
 Coquelin, who makes very careful study of 
 the character, and enters into it to the ex- 
 tent of divesting himself of whatever in his 
 own personahty is incongruous with it. 
 94 
 
COQUELIN 
 
 In M. Coquelin's extensive repertory it 
 is diflB.cult to indicate one's favourites. 
 Every rdle that lie assumes is played most 
 brilliantly, with a thousand shades of tone, 
 with consummate wit and delicacy. Among 
 comic parts, the valet in Les precieuses ri- 
 dicules holds a very high place ; it is a r81e 
 that suits Coquelin to perfection; that 
 delicious little comedy might have been 
 written expressly to give him full scope 
 for his unequalled talent in this direction. 
 From his first word to his last, Mascarille, 
 is indescribably amusing ; the little song of 
 the valet, his pm seul, his dismay, as his 
 fine feathers are stripped off by his master, 
 are all ludicrous beyond the power of words 
 to tell. Impudence like this is nothing 
 less than a fine art. " L'audace, Vaudace, 
 et encore de l'audace," might be his motto. 
 
 On the other hand Gringoire, the title- 
 rSle in Theodore de Banville's drama, is a 
 masterly impersonation of an heroic and 
 pathetic nature. The story turns on the 
 tyranny of Louis XI. Gringoire, in appear- 
 95 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 ance a poor country lout but in soul a hero, 
 is condemned to death by the king for 
 exciting the people with his verses, narrat- 
 ing through the streets the cruelties of the 
 tyrant. Gringoire, by his eloquence, con- 
 quers the daughter of the king. Coquelin's 
 rendering of this denunciation of Louis XI. 
 and his tyranny is sublime, and the tirade 
 (to use a French word which is not equivar 
 lent to the Enghsh " tirade," and expresses 
 more feehng than our "monologue") on 
 the sufEerings of humanity is most ad- 
 mirably given, and with so much pathos 
 that, when he finishes his hnes, the enthu- 
 siasm of the audience rises almost to frenzy. 
 It has been well said by Mr. Henry James 
 that " wherever M. Coquelin has a very 
 long and composite speech to utter, be it 
 verse or prose, there one gets the cream of 
 his talent." Another very distinguished 
 r61e of Coquelin's earlier days was Petruchio, 
 in Delair's adaptation of the " Taming of the 
 Shrew," which under the title of " Migere 
 apprivoisee" had great success in Paris. 
 96 
 
COQUELIN 
 
 The play was simplified very much from the 
 Shakespearian original. The portrayal of 
 Petruchio represents by no means the tradi- 
 tional idea of that masterful gentleman; 
 but whether the correct Petruchio or not, 
 it was exceedingly brilliant, and both en- 
 joyable and artistic in the highest degree. 
 
 Coquelin is the loyal worshipper of 
 Moliere, but he has also enthroned Shake- 
 speare among his divinities, and he looks 
 forward to the time when Shakespeare shall 
 become in France what he is to the English- 
 speaking world. How often I have heard 
 him say : " That is as Shakespeare would 
 have it." He believes that Shakespeare 
 should be and can be produced in French, 
 and would find a most appreciative public 
 in the French capital ; and one cannot but 
 join in the wish that this may come to pass 
 some day. With many of Shakespeare's 
 plays this seems impossible, certainly, but 
 no one can say positively that it is so ; and, 
 at least in the case of some, the possibility 
 is evident. To take a minor instance, im- 
 97 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 agine the finely-cut bufEoonery and inimit- 
 able drollery of the three Coquelins in the 
 famous drinking scene from the Twelfth 
 Night; and the beauty and correctness 
 which characterised Mounet-Sully's imper- 
 sonation of Hamlet, after that actor had 
 made patient study of the part for twenty 
 years, prove how greatly the finish of the 
 French school adds to the refinement of a 
 creation. 
 
 The kindly side of Coquelin's versatile 
 nature is shown in his touching devotion 
 to his mother; and he always offers a 
 friendly hand to his comrades in art, 
 though many of his profession are inimical 
 to him. He devotes a certain part of every 
 day, when he is at home, to giving advice 
 to those studying for the stage, receiving 
 without distinction the artist and the 
 novice. His criticism is sharp and quick ; 
 his own standard is so high that he re- 
 quires of each person the utmost of which 
 that person is capable. His keen percep- 
 tion of " how it should be " has made 
 98 
 
COQUELIN 
 
 many an aspirant weep at his " Ce n' est pas 
 fa." This little sentence tells the would- 
 be artist that his desired goal is still very 
 far off. I have frequently heard him at 
 dinner cross swords with Victorien Sardou. 
 Coquelin, who fears nobody, makes bold 
 thrusts, and the play-writer parries exceed- 
 ingly well, so that the spectators find the 
 combat exciting. 
 
 One morning, at the time that Sardou's 
 Thermidor was in rehearsal, Coquelin sent 
 me word that he would drop in for twelve 
 o'clock dejeuner. I hastily called together 
 a few intimate friends to share the pleas- 
 ure. As we were sipping our coffee in the 
 salon after leaving the table, conversation 
 turned, as a matter of course, upon Sardou's 
 play. We were all quite certain that the 
 drama would be disapproved of by govern- 
 ment, and so it proved. Only two repre- 
 sentations were given at the Th^§,tre-Fran- 
 9ais and it was then withdrawn, as it 
 brought back too vividly the days of the 
 Reign of Terror. The interdiction of the 
 99 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 play did not diminisli Coquelin's ardour for 
 it or his interest in the r81e of Bussifere, 
 for which he had a particular fancy, and 
 indeed it suited him wonderfully. 
 
 On this morning of which I speak he 
 was in the mood for reciting, and, seated 
 quietly in his chair, almost without a ges- 
 ture, hut with aU the splendour of his won- 
 derful voice, he gave us a large part of a 
 scene from Thermidor, the one in which 
 Bussiere looks over the lists of the con- 
 demned, seeking for some name to com- 
 plete the number required, in place of the 
 young girl whose life he has determined to 
 save. It is needless to say that this was 
 to us all the very finest intellectual pleas- 
 ure that can be imagined. 
 
 A few years later this much-feared and 
 exciting drama was given at the Porte- 
 Saint-Martin, greatly to Coquelin's delight. 
 Another act, of which the scene was laid in 
 the National Assembly, had been added by 
 the author. I attended the performance 
 with a young friend, and we were both in- 
 100 
 
COQUELIN 
 
 tensely impressed by it. Nothing could be 
 more thrilling on the stage than this scene 
 where Bussiere searches the hsts, eagerly 
 and nervously seeking for some one to be 
 made the substitute, and refusing name 
 after name : "0 not that one ! She must 
 not be executed ! " — It is a historical fact 
 that many were saved from death by the 
 humanity and ingenuity of Bussiere. The 
 young girl with me was so impressed that 
 she wept bitterly, and, it must be owned, 
 not with the silence of a trained theatre- 
 goer ! A curious kind of whimpering con- 
 tinued to break out at intervals, for weeks 
 and even months, whenever that tragic 
 scene recurred to her mind, and for all I 
 know she may still be whimpering some- 
 where in the world. I could not resist the 
 temptation to tell Coquelin about this, and 
 he was vastly amused. 
 
 On the morning when he gave us the 
 
 scene from Thermidor, he also gave us a 
 
 little comic narrative piece, where an 
 
 Englishman is speaking French with a fine 
 
 101 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 British accent. This occasioned immense 
 hUarity; but one of my guests, a young 
 Enghshman, was evidently displeased ; and 
 left the room almost angrily. M. Coqueliu 
 was not at all rufl&ed by this incident. " I 
 am astonished," he said, "for this is the 
 one thing this young gentleman's distin- 
 guished father always asks for when I am 
 in London, as does also H. R. H. the Prince 
 of Wales." One reaUy can have no sym- 
 pathy with this foolish sensitiveness as to 
 accent. 
 
 On another occasion, when M. Coquehn 
 chanced to be my guest at dinner, he had 
 just been reading a recent drama entitled 
 Joseph d'Arimathee. Still under the sway 
 of the subtle force and wonderful beauty 
 of the piece, he began talking of it to Jean 
 B^raud, his neighbour at table, speaking 
 also of his delight at having run across 
 such a treasure. Then, all at once, he 
 began quoting passage after passage, with 
 profound feeling and the deepest apprecia- 
 tion of the religious sentiment. Of course 
 102 
 
Constant Coquelin 
 

 
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COQUELIN 
 
 we were all greatly delighted at this unex- 
 pected pleasure. Later in the evening an 
 English lady, one of my guests, said to me : 
 "Is it possible that was Coquelin the 
 actor?" Having known him only as the 
 great comedian of the French stage, she 
 was very much surprised at this phase of 
 his character and talent. 
 
 The drama was of too sacred a nature 
 for representation, but soon after, on Holy 
 Thursday, I had the pleasure of hearing 
 Coquelin read it at a small theatre in 
 the rue Sain1>Lazare, known as la JBodi- 
 niere, a place where dramatic works that, 
 for various reasons, cannot be performed 
 elsewhere, find a hearing. The same with 
 music. Young composers and young singers, 
 who have not reached the heights of opera, 
 made their first essays here. Sometimes 
 there are two or three day-performances, 
 besides the usual evening one. I mention 
 this as something peculiar to Paris. The 
 price of admission is low, and there is often 
 a very good audience. 
 103 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 Even a brief sketcli of Coquelin would 
 be incomplete without mention of his 
 friendship with Gambetta. A tie of the 
 strongest sympathy united these two men, 
 each so eminent in his chosen career ; and 
 we cannot doubt that Coquelin indirectly 
 inspired somewhat of the eloquence and 
 the perfect diction which distinguished the 
 oratory of that illustrious deputy, too 
 early lost to France and the world. We 
 may indeed venture to say that when 
 Coquelin became an actor, a very great 
 advocate was lost to the Paris bar. At the 
 time of his separation from the Th6S,tre- 
 Fran^ais, a law-suit, as is well known, was 
 imminent. Coquelin declared that he 
 should not engage a lawyer, but would 
 plead his own cause ! There can be no 
 doubt which way the case would have been 
 decided. What jury could have withstood 
 his courage, wit and brains ! His quizzical 
 look, quick tongue, subtle arguments — 
 how could any judge sit sober beneath 
 his wig before a man who is greeted 
 104 
 
COQUELIN 
 
 with shouts of laughter wherever he 
 appears ! 
 
 The latest and by far the greatest, the 
 most distinguished, of Coquelin's artistic 
 triumphs he has gained, without doubt, in 
 the title-r81e of Rostand's Com^die Eroique, 
 Cyrano de Bergerac. Here the actor shows 
 in consummate perfection the two appar- 
 ently contradictory sides of his remarkable 
 genius : he is the very type of the Gascon 
 soldier, full of braggadocio and fight, merry 
 and impudent ; on the other hand he is a 
 lover such as the world has never seen 
 before — one whose power of self-abnega- 
 tion towards the woman he loves is as 
 great as his love for her — not merely 
 being willing to give her up to another, for 
 whom she has confessed a tendresse, but 
 aiding that other with all the resources of 
 his own brilliant intellect and his passionate 
 and faithful heart, to complete the transient 
 conquest which mere beauty and gallantry 
 of personal appearance have made. And 
 more than this — when Chretien's death 
 105 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 would seem to have set him free to take 
 what is truly his — for, after all, it is 
 Cyrano, his soul, his letters, that Roxane 
 loves — loyal to his friend, he persists in 
 his " generous imposture " through fourteen 
 years of sublime silence, and only at the 
 moment of his death does Roxane discover 
 that it is really he and not Chretien whom 
 she has loved. We had supposed that \iir 
 erature and the drama had made us familiar 
 with every variety of lover ; but this was a 
 creation hitherto undreamed of. 
 
 The author's fame has been immense, 
 and so too has the actor's. How enthusias- 
 tically the author appreciated the mag- 
 nificent impersonation is shown by his 
 dedication of the play : 
 
 C'est a I'dme de Cykano qui je voulais dedier ce 
 
 poeme, 
 Mais puisqu'elle a passe en vous, Coquelin, c'est a 
 
 vous que je la dedie. 
 
 106 
 
MASSENET 
 
 107 
 
MASSENET 
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 MASSENET. 
 
 Returning from America late in 1895, 
 one of my first acts was to pay my respect 
 to the cher mattre, as the artists love to call 
 their favourite Massenet. I found him at 
 at home one winter afternoon, at his desk, 
 the score of Sapho before him, beaming 
 with pleasure over his new theme. His 
 charming wife was seated at the fireside 
 with her embroidery, in silent sjmipathy 
 with her husband's talent, making in all 
 so pretty and interesting a picture that it 
 was vividly photographed on my memory. 
 After this visit to their modest home in the 
 rue du-G^n^ral-Foy, I at once decided to 
 make a sketch of this celebrated composer 
 in the hope that Massenet might, at no dis- 
 tant day, be received in America with the 
 109 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 same distinction which his countrymen 
 accord him. 
 
 In looking over my musical library, I 
 see a score entitled: Drame Sacree, Marie 
 Magdeleine. J. Massenet; and I find the 
 accompanying friendly inscription in his 
 familiar handwriting. 
 
 The spirit of Massenet's genius as shown 
 in this work touches very deep chords in 
 the human heart. The scene is full of 
 tenderness where our Lord approaches the 
 Magdalene and speaks to her, and the 
 sight of that heavenly face and his gentle 
 words fill her soul with a divine happiness. 
 One feels, with Mrs. Greenough in her 
 wonderful poem " Mary Magdalene " : 
 
 " The eye that loved the beauty of the flowers, 
 Rested upon that flower-like face, 
 And a divine compassion stirred his heart. 
 What had those god-like eyes descried in her 
 That brought such depth of pity to their gaze ? " 
 
 Holiness and peace pervade every line 
 and phrase of this lovely oratorio. It flows 
 along, teeming with fine orchestral effects, 
 110 
 
Musical Autograph 
 
MASSENET 
 
 singing the Christ-like tale of repentance 
 and sorrow in soft voices accompanied by 
 softer violins, interpreting with surpassing 
 beauty the well-known Scriptural story and 
 the gentle words of our Lord. 
 
 It chanced one evening that I was read- 
 ing aloud Mrs. Greenoiigh's poem to a lady 
 whose eyes denied her the pleasure of read- 
 ing herself. We were both so absorbed 
 that neither of us had noticed the presence 
 of a third person, till suddenly the sound 
 of soft music stole through the room. Some 
 one was at the piano, accompanying the 
 voice of the reader in a manner perfectly 
 in harmony both with the rhythm and the 
 spirit of the poetry. Almost immediately 
 I recognised the music of Massenet's 
 oratorio, and it is needless to add that the 
 player was Massenet himself, who had 
 entered the room unannounced, and caught 
 the idea of the words where the Magda- 
 lene, seeking the Lord by night, finds her- 
 self beneath the windows of the curtained 
 room in which the disciples were gath- 
 111 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 ered around their Master for the Last 
 Supper : 
 
 " Entrance slie dared not crave. 
 
 What claim had she to urge importunate 
 Her unknown presence on that ■wondrous One, 
 
 The Jewish Prophet-King ? 
 
 Anguished she turned her faint, reluctant steps 
 To leave the lonely and deserted spot, 
 When rising softly in rich-blended tone 
 Of human pathos and of heaven-born might, 
 A solemn canticle of prayer and praise 
 Swelled on the midnight hush. A strain it was 
 Such as the listening stars have never heard 
 Again, since that last eve when Jesus' voice 
 Intoned the hymn his followers upraised.'- 
 
 Deep and more deep the waves sonorous flowed, 
 Full and more full they poured upon her ear : 
 They bore her on their harmony sublime 
 Upward, still upward, till amid the stars 
 Her spirit seemed to float. A peace profound, 
 A lofty calm, a fervent joy, instilled 
 Through all her being ; and a strength undreamed. 
 Mighty and forceful, held her soul within 
 Its clasp majestic ; while upon her breathed 
 Compassionate, a tenderness divine. 
 
 1 S. Matthew XXVI, 30. 
 112 
 
MASSENET 
 
 That strain unearthly set her spirit free : 
 A sacred love flamed upward in her breast. 
 All ignorant she stood, yet to her heart 
 The gates of Heaven opened, ere her mind 
 Had trod the first steps of the holy way 
 Of wisdom and of truth. A portent high 
 Of saving love had snatched her from the life 
 She knew not how to hate. She gazed above 
 With unveiled head thrown back. Her bosom 
 
 heaved, 
 Tears slowly welling stole adown her cheeks, 
 And lifting up her arms she suppliant stood, 
 Invoking silently the Unknown God. 
 
 As though retiring upward to the sky, 
 
 The sounds majestic died upon her ear. 
 
 And silence softly sank on all around ; 
 
 Yet still the harp-strings of her being thrilled 
 
 Vibrating with a new, mysterious sense, 
 
 Sweet, awful dawning of the spirit life ! 
 
 Solemn and bright the golden moon shone down. 
 
 And from the starry depths a splendour gleamed 
 
 Like distant waving of celestial wings, 
 
 As to the alien shelter of her home. 
 
 Her wondering soul inorbed with heavenly light. 
 
 The Magdalene, Christ's miracle, returned." 
 
 I finislied the poem, and Massenet, rising 
 113 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 from the piano, came forward to join us. 
 Had h.e understood every word he could 
 not have accompanied the reading more 
 exquisitely. But English is to him an 
 unknown tongue. " How could you know 
 what I was reading ? " I said. " How 
 could I fail to know ? " he answered. Doubt- 
 less he caught the familiar name " Magdar 
 lene," and a certain intuition supplied the 
 rest. My first thought was to wish that 
 he could have used Mrs. Greenough's words 
 for his libretto, but the pure and choice 
 English might have lost somewhat of its 
 subtle charm in translation. And here I 
 cannot forbear to express my sincere and 
 profound admiration for this very remark- 
 able poem which, it seems to me, has 
 scarcely had the wide and permanent appre- 
 ciation it merits. 
 
 It was written in Rome in 1880, and 
 bears these words of dedication : " To my 
 husband I affectionately inscribe this poem, 
 suggested by his statue of Mary Magdalene 
 at the tomb." 
 
 114 
 
MASSENET 
 
 Another score bearing Massenet's name 
 attracts me, Manon Lescaut. How sur- 
 prising is the musical intelligence which 
 inspired two such interesting works with 
 utterly dissimilar subjects ! The devout 
 emotion of the one, the absorbing earthly 
 passion of the other, is each idealised by a 
 skilful and poetic nature which refines 
 whatever it touches. One not acquainted 
 with the romance of Manon Lescaut, by the 
 Abb6 Prevost, should read it. Familiarity 
 with the original romance much enhances 
 the enjoyment of the opera. 
 
 This story of Manon Lescaut, supposed 
 by Saint-Beuve and many others to be a 
 narrative of the author's own life, was 
 written in the eighteenth century. As a 
 youth, the Abb^ Prevost joined the society 
 of Jesuits, but quitted it later to become a 
 soldier. Of this life he soon tired, however, 
 and returned to the brotherhood of Jesuits. 
 In 1721, he became a Benedictine, remain- 
 ing in the order for seven years. During 
 these years he published some important 
 115 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 literary works, of which the most sympa- 
 thetic to the public taste is the Manon 
 Lescaut. I will give, in brief, an outline 
 of this most extraordinary and curious love- 
 story. 
 
 The Chevalier des Grieux, a Frenchman 
 of rank, destined by his family for the 
 church, meets at Amiens a beautiful young 
 girl of seventeen years. This is Manon 
 Lescaut, who has been sent by her parents 
 from her home in the country to enter a 
 convent. During the conversation which 
 follows their meeting, Manon begs the Chev- 
 alier to save her from the convent life which 
 she dreads. The young girl's extreme 
 beauty and innocence appeal so strongly to 
 Des Grieux that he feels at once that here 
 — child though she is — is she who will be 
 the love of his life and the ruler of his 
 destiny, as after events prove : his love for 
 Manon never wavers or changes till death. 
 Several months pass, during which these 
 two youthful and emotional natures lead 
 what seems to them to be an ideal exist- 
 116 
 
MASSENET 
 
 ence, every thouglit of church, state, or 
 home-life being completely obliterated from 
 the minds of both. 
 
 Suddenly, by his father's command, 
 Des Grieux is seized and carried away to 
 Saint-Denis, and his parents make every 
 effort to persuade him that Manon is false 
 to him and unworthy of his love. The 
 young man is kept a prisoner for six 
 months ; during this time he himself strives 
 to overcome his blind passion for his in- 
 amorata, and is finally allowed to go to 
 Paris, where he exchanges the Cross of 
 Malta for the ecclesiastic's garb, and the 
 title of Chevalier for that of Abb^. He 
 now devotes himself with zeal to his reli- 
 gious studies; and his essays on theology 
 soon make his name famous. He even 
 lectures at the Sorbonne, and a career of 
 distinction in the church opens before him. 
 
 One day, returning from the Sorbonne to 
 
 the church of Saint Sulpice, he is met, in 
 
 the sacristy of the church, by his former 
 
 love who appears before him, a vision of 
 
 117 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 loveliness and beauty, in aU the freshness 
 of her eighteen years. • She has come to 
 seek the Abb^ that she may induce him 
 to renounce his religious life and return 
 to her and to the world. Inexpressibly 
 shocked at this sacrilegious attempt to 
 aUure him from the fulfilment of his vows, 
 Des Grieux at first resists her with stern 
 determination. But in the end he yields, 
 and Manon leads him away in triumph, 
 all his ambition and all his sense of duty 
 being sacrificed to his overmastering affec- 
 tion. 
 
 Thenceforward the two lead a vagrant 
 life ; in their destitution they are guilty of 
 offences against the law, and suffer arrest, 
 detention, and finally, exile. At last over- 
 come by hardships, Manon dies of exhaus- 
 tion in her lover's arms ; Des Grieux digs 
 her grave with his broken sword, he wraps 
 her in his own cloak, and lays in the 
 ground his beloved, beautiful, and sinning 
 Manon ; and then extends himself to die 
 upon the earth that covers her, where later 
 118 
 
MASSENET 
 
 his body is found. A lack of refinement 
 in some of tile details of the original story 
 — due in a measure to the epoch in which 
 it was written — is almost forgotten in the 
 grace and simplicity of the romance, which 
 appeals to every sympathetic heart, and to- 
 day holds its place in French literature as 
 a classic. 
 
 It was my good fortune to attend the 
 first representation of Manon at the Op^ra 
 Comique in 1884, the title r8le being 
 created by Mme. Heilbrun. I found to my 
 delight that my loge adjoined the one 
 occupied by M. Gounod. I was extremely 
 curious to see how he, as well as the critics, 
 would receive Massenet's setting of this 
 favourite French romance. The joy and 
 enthusiasm of the audience could not have 
 been greater. M. Gounod was more than 
 interested, and from the beginning of the 
 opera to the graceful, stately minuet of 
 the third act, not a note escaped him. As 
 the work progressed, he became radiant ; 
 and what a smile he had, and what a beau- 
 119 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 tiful expression when pleased, with his con- 
 stant "Bravo, bravo, Massenet! C'est ideal, 
 cest beau ! " In the movement where 
 Manon, finding Des Grieux in the church, 
 allures him back to the old life, it was a 
 revelation to see the satisfaction depicted on 
 Gounod's face and his genuine delight in 
 Massenet's triumph. Manon has had im- 
 mense success in all the capitals of Europe, 
 
 "For as long as tlie heart lias passions 
 And as long as life has woes," 
 
 the story of a great, overmastering love 
 such as that of Des Grieux for Manon Les- 
 caut, as rendered by Massenet, cannot lose 
 its charm. 
 
 An American singer, Miss Sibyl Sander- 
 son, was the inspiration for Esclarmonde 
 (given at the Op^ra-Comique, during the 
 last Exposition) in which she sang with 
 great brilliancy and ^clat. It was a mem- 
 orable evening when Massenet read to us 
 the poem he intended to weave into this 
 opera. With what zeal did he enter into 
 120 
 
Jules Massenet 
 
*r?r>6' F*iir.^ T\e«a, 
 
 fii*^ /^Of . 
 
MASSENET 
 
 the adventures of Roland, and how eagerly 
 we listened, fuU of interest and of conjec- 
 ture as to its probable reception by the 
 public ! He was confident of its success, 
 and rightly so. All his anticipations were 
 realised; for, i£ he possesses one quality 
 stronger than another, it is his comprehen- 
 sion of the theatre, and his ability to grasp 
 situations. 
 
 Owing to religious scruples against bring- 
 ing John the Baptist on the stage, it is 
 doubtful if H&rodiade, one of Massenet's 
 strongest works, will ever be heard at the 
 Grand Op^ra. It would, however, be erro- 
 nious to suppose that the Herodiade is in 
 any way unworthy of its dignified theme 
 or shocking to religious sentiment ; for the 
 musical setting of this BibHcal story is 
 serious enough to satisfy the most exacting 
 mind. 
 
 In Goethe's beautiful story of Werther 
 
 and Charlotte, Massenet has again chosen 
 
 his theme from a modern classic. This 
 
 opera has been for years the idol of the 
 
 121 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 Viennese public, and as sung by tbeir fa- 
 vorite tenor Vandyck (the far-famed Par- 
 sifal of Bayreuth) holds the first place in 
 the repertory of their Grand Opera. 
 
 Some years earlier than the date of 
 Weriher is that of The Cid, with its char- 
 acteristic ballet of gorgeous colour. "When- 
 ever and wherever the bewitching music of 
 this ballet is heard, at the first wave and 
 crash of the orchestra with its distinctive 
 tempo, visions arise of the graceful Anda- 
 lusian, advancing in the swing of her na- 
 tional dance. 
 
 In the spring of 1899 Massenet's Cerv- 
 drillon appeared'at the Op^ra-Comique most 
 beautifully staged. The mere word " Cin- 
 derella" is magic to every heart that re- 
 members the happy days of childhood, — 
 the one great fairy story of the whole civ- 
 ilised world, read in every tongne, known 
 in every land, and a joy to every human 
 being. For who living has not read, re- 
 read, and wept over poor little Cinderella in 
 her chimney-corner, left neglected at home, 
 122 
 
MASSENET 
 
 while her sisters proudly depart for the 
 ball? We all wept again as Cendrillon 
 in the opera sings her farewell song with 
 her father, when the cruel sisters drive her 
 from the house. Childhood's illusions re- 
 turn to the mind, with the woes and suf- 
 ferings of the little girl. And, ah ! what 
 fairies ! The trees blossom with them, and 
 their soft songs are like the sighing of the 
 wind through a forest. 
 
 For four years, the score of Massenet's 
 Cendrillon was in the work-room, in pro- 
 cess of construction, and over and over 
 again the pages were thrown into the fire, 
 while the composer sought new inspiration. 
 But the result at last has been a composi- 
 tion destined to live, by the side of Manon 
 and Weriher. 
 
 Socially, Massenet is un vrai charmeur, 
 the very soul of fun and wit. The com- 
 monplace incident becomes quaint and 
 amusing from his ready tongue, and his 
 bright eyes fairly dance with pleasure as 
 he seizes the comical side of a would-be 
 123 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 serious matter. M. Massenet is one of the 
 hardest-worked men in Paris, yet he will 
 never refuse a half-hour to the student 
 who wishes his advice, so precious to those 
 struggling for a career. He is most kindly ; 
 and, in a manner peculiarly his own, with 
 one wave of the hand, he demonstrates to 
 the uninitiated just how the much-studied 
 measure should be interpreted. Massenet 
 is a great economist of time, and meets 
 his numerous appointments with faultless 
 exactitude. The request for interviews 
 from zealous and admiring musicians is 
 so constant that he is obliged to absent 
 himself from Paris when his own work 
 specially presses. If it be true, as has 
 been sometimes asserted, that Massenet 
 lacks inspiration, his exquisite finish and 
 phrasing never fail to elicit praise even 
 from those who criticise him most. His 
 music is never frivolous; a trifle vague, 
 perhaps ; yet always serious and dignified. 
 It is always to be remembered that he has 
 endowed his country with Manon, and let 
 124 
 
MASSENET 
 
 us thank him for it, and for the poetry 
 with which he has environed his subject. 
 
 This master has well earned his laurels. 
 Massenet and Saint-Saens are the two great 
 representatives of the modem school of 
 French composition, and at the present day 
 lead in France. Both men sit in adoration 
 of the colossus enthroned among the Ba- 
 varian hills at Bayreuth. 
 
 For years M. Massenet has been a member 
 of the Institute, and upon the death of 
 Ambroise Thomas, the directorship of the 
 Conservatoire was offered to him. The 
 proffered honor was declined, however, — 
 to the delight of M. Massenet's many friends 
 as the position is one requiring vast expen- 
 diture of time and labour. The artists, 
 the theatre, and society at large could ill 
 afford to miss his influence. It is safe to 
 say that, Hke the great Italian master, Verdi^ 
 Massenet will never relinquish his pen ; but 
 with advancing years wiU achieve stiU 
 greater triumphs. 
 
 125 
 
PADEREWSKI 
 
 127 
 
PADEREWSKI 
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 
 PADEEEWSKI. 
 
 On a fine October day in the year 1889, 
 all the musical Parisian' world was wending 
 its way towards the Cirque d'Et^, to attend 
 one of the famous Lamoureux Sunday 
 afternoon concerts. The programme for 
 the day was as usual a fine one. Among 
 the executants an unfamiliar name attracted 
 attention : Paderewski, evidently a Pole, 
 was announced to play a Concerto by 
 Schmnann, with orchestral accompaniment. 
 He soon appeared — a man not quite thirty 
 at this time and looking even younger than 
 he was, of very slight figure, with a face 
 which, once seen, could never be forgotten, 
 — a small, pale, and rarely beautiful face, 
 of great delicacy and intelligence, finely-cut 
 features and rather a sensitive expression. 
 129 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 This remarkable physiognomy was sur- 
 rounded by a wealth of light blond hair, 
 raised from the brow like a lialo, reminding 
 one of Fra Angelico's angel-pictures in the 
 Florentine gallery. 
 
 At his appearance murmurs of disap- 
 proval arose from the crowd : " Oh, how we 
 shall be bored ! " — " He wiU never please 
 us!" — "How can he interpret Schumann 
 as we require it ! " But the first movement 
 of the Concerto was not completed before 
 one became aware that the tide was turn- 
 ing in his favour, and at the finish an enthu- 
 siastic murmur of approval ran through the 
 house, for this slender and quiet young 
 man had proved himself a musical giant. 
 In response to an encore he played a taran- 
 telle of his own composition, and his con- 
 quest of the musical world of Paris was 
 complete. Shouts of applause greeted him 
 from those who had been most inimical. 
 That day Paderewski established his Euro- 
 pean reputation. The fiat went forth from 
 this centre of art; and, in music, what 
 130 
 
Ignaz Faderewski 
 
PADEREWSKI 
 
 Paris decides is accepted by the world. 
 The following year he was heard in London, 
 and shortly after came to America, gain- 
 ing new triiunphs wherever he appeared, 
 and there can be no question that he is 
 everywhere regarded as the greatest living 
 pianist. 
 
 Paderewski is one of the few great musi- 
 cians of the world who is invariably ami- 
 able. On one occasion he kindly offered to 
 give a recital at my house, to christen my 
 new piano. That day he played as if 
 inspired, and as if incapable of fatigue. 
 We were all specially " delighted with his 
 rendering of one of Chopin's ballades in 
 la bemol. 
 
 Every artist has his own manner at the 
 piano. Liszt, as is well known, had a way 
 of throwing back his head defiantly, tossing 
 back his hair like a lion's mane excepting 
 one little stray white lock which would fall 
 over his brow and eyes. Paderewski at 
 the piano has great repose, and, while play- 
 ing, from time to time, lifts and drops his 
 131 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 eyelids in a dreamy way, showing two 
 wonderfully sad eyes full of a pale blue 
 light, with an expression seemingly obli- 
 vious to everything about him, while the 
 magic fingers fly swiftly over the keys in 
 their intricate and complicated movements, 
 interpreting the composer's grand and beau- 
 tiful ideas, and the artist carries with him 
 with irresistible force and charm the sym- 
 pathetic listener : " il n' y a pas moyen le 
 resister," as a French lady, herself a musi- 
 cian, well said. 
 
 In hearing Paderewski, .one is at once 
 impressed with his strong individuality and 
 great charm. Aside from his colossal genius, 
 he is simple and extremely kind-hearted, 
 — traits which endear him to those who 
 meet him in social intercourse. In America 
 he has been greatly beloved and admired, 
 and he fully merits the place he has won 
 for himself in the esteem both of the New 
 World and the Old. 
 
 132 
 
BAYREUTH 
 
 133 
 
BAYREUTH 
 
 CHAPTER XI. 
 
 BAYREUTH. 
 
 One of the highest aims of mankind is 
 the artistic and aesthetic, and to the earnest 
 amateur a pilgrimage to Bayreuth is an 
 event — one that I, certainly, shall never 
 forget. 
 
 Fifteen hundred people from all parts of 
 the world, and all with serious ideas and 
 thoughts, are gathered in this Bayreuth 
 theatre to witness a wonderful display of 
 scenic art and a series of beautiful and real- 
 istic pictures, as well as to follow the much 
 discussed, subtle, and compUcated harmo- 
 nies of the greatest of modern composers, 
 Richard Wagner. The semi-sacred musical 
 drama Parsifal is the finest and noblest 
 creation of all the Bayreuth performances. 
 The wonders and mysteries of this beautiful 
 135 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 mediaeval legend are revealed by an invisi- 
 ble orchestra which carries the Hstener 
 along with irresistible, siren-like power. 
 Under the influence of these mighty har- 
 monies one finds one's self walking through 
 the woods with Parsifal, approaching Mont- 
 salvat where stands the castle in which is 
 kept the Holy Grail — the sacred cup which, 
 according to legend, first used by our Lord 
 in the institution of the Holy Supper after- 
 wards received a few drops of blood from 
 his side wounded by the soldier's spear. 
 After the Saviour's death, this cup disap- 
 peared, being carried away by the angels, 
 but was finally^ together with the spear, 
 restored to earth, and given into the keep- 
 ing of Titurel, a knight of great piety and 
 purity, who established for the defence of 
 these sacred relics an Order, the Knights of 
 the Holy Grail. 
 
 The same wonderful orchestral power 
 
 leads us into the sanctuary where the knights 
 
 are assembled, and it is now that we hear 
 
 in its fuU majesty the leitmotif of the Holy 
 
 136 
 
BAYREUTH 
 
 Grail, which sweeps over the soul like a 
 mighty wave of glory. A moment's silence 
 of the instruments, and celestial voices steal 
 through the air, so thrilling and of such 
 exquisite purity that it seems as if the gates 
 of Paradise were opened, and angels and 
 archangels were descending to earth. The 
 intense exaltation of the moment is inde- 
 scribable ; in a way it produces an efEect 
 similar to that of the silver trumpets heard 
 under the dome of Saint Peter's in Rome 
 on Easter Day. 
 
 Handling instruments like a magician, 
 every conceivable effect and emotion is 
 possible to Wagner. Poet as well as com- 
 poser, he occupies a most important place 
 in Music, and notwithstanding the hostility 
 and unbehef and sarcasm he has encoun- 
 tered, it must now be acknowledged that 
 he has conquered the world. 
 
 A distinguished and rather too critical 
 writer has said : " At the head of the Wag- 
 nerian movement in Germany there walks 
 an insane king." Posterity will do justice 
 137 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 to Ludwig II. of Bavaria, who for thirteen 
 years was "Wagner's firm friend ever ready 
 with sympathy, enthusiasm and material 
 aid, until the Festival Theatre at Bayreuth 
 was completed and inaugurated in 1876. 
 The construction of this theatre is a 
 wonder in itself, and might well serve as 
 a model for theatres all over the world. 
 The invisible orchestra is arranged on a 
 succession of broad steps which descend 
 under the stage, whence the music emerges 
 — reflected from a kind of sounding-board 
 above the musicians' heads — as out of some 
 mysterious space of earth or air, refined, 
 and, so to speak, idealised : the brasses are 
 velvety, the strings are ethereal ; there is no 
 sound of catgut or of metal. One should 
 bear in mind, in judging of Wagner's 
 orchestration, which has been criticised as 
 noisy and deafening, that nowhere except 
 in Bayreuth are his works rendered as he 
 intended them to be. No person at Bay- 
 reuth could possibly say that the orchestral 
 effects are too violent. 
 138 
 
BAYREUTH 
 
 In dealing with the supernatural, Wag- 
 ner's power is unprecedented. The death 
 of Siegfried has given to the world some of 
 the finest pages of music in all modem art. 
 The splendours of Valhalla ; the poetic and 
 sympathetic Brunhilda, doomed to a fatal 
 sleep for an act of tender compassion in 
 disobedience to the wiU of her father 
 Wotan ; the passionate love of Tristan and 
 Isolde ; the brave and spotless knights of 
 the Holy Grail, who seem inspired in all 
 that they do with celestial love and a deep 
 consciousness of their vocation; the little 
 shepherd boy in Tannhauser who falls on 
 his knees praying for his soul when he hears 
 the Chorus of the Pilgrims returning from 
 Rome : heroes, heroines, gods, goddesses, 
 — all are grandly conceived and placed 
 before us like figures in some splendid old 
 picture, living and singing in our presence. 
 All that one sees and hears at Bayreuth is 
 serious, dignified, and intellectual. 
 
 Happy, thrice happy, they who are priv- 
 ileged to make the pilgrimage to this 
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REMINISCENCES 
 
 musical Mecca ! The critic's sneers are 
 Lilliputian attacks upon a giant, utterly 
 powerless to destroy or in the slightest 
 degree lessen the fame of this one great 
 musical teacher of the Nineteenth Century. 
 When the first act of Parsifal ended, 
 and in the long wait that followed we all 
 left our seats and went out into the open 
 air, I tried to collect my senses, recalling 
 my promise to a friend to write him my 
 impressions of this musical legend from 
 which no one can come away without rev- 
 erent sympathy for such a faultless pre- 
 sentation of all that is purest and most 
 elevating. I felt that it would be literally 
 impossible for me to give any intelligent 
 description of what had taken place during 
 this first act — of nearly two hours in 
 length, which had seemed no more than 
 five minutes in passing! We had been 
 sitting motionless and spell-bound, and in 
 complete darkness, except for the light 
 reflected from the illuminated stage ; pro- 
 found silence pervades the auditorium, and 
 140 
 
BAYREUTH 
 
 strong religious emotions are aroused, as 
 this drama unrolls itself before us. For 
 my own part I seemed to be firmly con- 
 vinced that I was in another world, or at 
 least in the castle at Montsalvat, while 
 visions passed before my eyes of beautiful 
 youths with long blond curls and a pictu- 
 resque mediaeval costume of light-blue tunic 
 falling to the knee, and long mantle of 
 scarlet-coloured cloth fastened at the throat 
 and hanging from the shoulders. This 
 procession to the sanctuary for th.e celebra- 
 tion of the Mass consists of three choirs — 
 children, young men, and lastly, the knights 
 themselves. Among them, the youthful 
 Grail-Bearer advances with a gliding motion, 
 noticeably different from the rhythmic step 
 of the others and yet perfectly in time with 
 the imposing music of the March. Nothing 
 can exceed the expression of adoring love 
 in the face of this youth, as he moves 
 slowly forward, bearing in uplifted arms 
 the loftiest symbol of the Christian faith, 
 his eyes fixed upon the sacred object, and 
 141 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 then, after tenderly and reverently placing 
 it upon the altar, sinks to his knees before 
 it in silent prayer. 
 
 After Parsifal has made good his resis- 
 tance to the Powers of Evil and has secured 
 the holy Spear from the wicked spirit 
 KUngsor, he goes on his way to Montsalvat, 
 where he is to deliver the Spear to the 
 keeper of the. Grail. After long wander- 
 ings, unawares he enters the sacred domain : 
 here he is met by a hermit who bids him 
 lay aside his armour, and makes known to 
 him that the day is Good Friday. Upon 
 this Parsifal strikes the Spear into the 
 ground, and, laying aside sword and buckler 
 and helmet, kneels before it in silence, 
 while, soft as a snow-flake, the violins of the 
 orchestra intone a prayer of such surpass- 
 ing beauty, that it is like a draught of 
 fresh water to lips parched with thirst. I 
 was overwhelmed with the effect of these 
 sublime harmonies, and while the soul is 
 vibrating with a new sense of mysterious 
 and spiritual emotions, the air is suddenly 
 142 
 
BAYREUTH 
 
 filled with silvery sounds from the dome of 
 the sanctuary, softly descending as on the 
 wings of a dove, with the promise of faith. 
 Wonder again seized me, and I firmly 
 decided I should never be able to convey to 
 my friend any idea of the poetry and gran- 
 deur of this great musical drama. Just 
 three words, or rather, one word three 
 times repeated, would be the best I could 
 do at explaining it : " Cileste, celeste, et 
 encore cileste ! " 
 
 143 
 
FINALE 
 
 145 
 
FINALE 
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 
 FINALE. 
 
 " All good Americans when they die go 
 to Paris," we have been told. Many good 
 Americans go thither while yet ahve, and 
 are very content to allow themselves a 
 longer or shorter residence there, " where 
 every prospect pleases," and the facilities 
 for living are vastly greater than can be 
 found in their native land. Nor, in so 
 doing, are they forced to consider them- 
 selves as belonging to some " great army of 
 the expatriated," " pitiable wanderers from 
 home and country," as the author of " Social 
 Exiles " would have it. One can love his 
 country stiU, though absent from it, as the 
 son of an honoured family is by no means 
 unfilial though he may be for years absent 
 from the paternal roof. And I have often 
 147 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 thought that true patriotic feeling is as 
 sincere and ardent in some " American 
 Colony " of a great foreign city as among 
 an equal number of equally cultivated peo- 
 ple, taken at random in New York or 
 Philadelphia. 
 
 Nowhere more than in the French capital 
 can be found the rest and harmless diver- 
 sion, sometimes so greatly needed by those 
 for whom American life has been too 
 strenuous. What an enchanting succession 
 of beautiful pictures to the lately arrived 
 New-Englander, fresh from the brick and 
 painted wood of his home, is the first walk 
 in Paris, following the grand line of the 
 Champs-Elys^es, from the Arc de Triomphe 
 to the place de la Concorde, thence past the 
 Tuileries, still following the river, past the 
 wicked-looking Conciergerie and the Sainte- 
 Chapelle, to where, on the lie de la Cit6, 
 the ancient cathedral of Notre-Dame lifts 
 its solid, square towers against the sky. 
 What a wealth of historic associations sui> 
 round one here, breaking up the wearisome 
 148 
 
FINALE 
 
 routine of common life, bringing back the 
 past in all its grandeur, shutting out for 
 the moment the anxieties and cares of the 
 present ! 
 
 Or, to turn to very trivial things, how 
 pleasing a novelty to the new-comer are the 
 street-cries, unique and often so melodious ! 
 There is a pretty little song of the women 
 who have bird-seed to sell : " Grain d'oiseau ! 
 Grrain d'oiseau ! " This is an early morn- 
 ing ditty. At any hour of the day you 
 may hear the tiny child-voice of the gamin 
 in the pathetic cadences of " The little sor- 
 rows " (les petits Chagrins), which, three or 
 four years ago, suggested a short pi^ce de 
 theatre, a " curtain-raiser " which had a 
 great success — I think at the Gymnase. 
 The cry of the old clo'man has had still 
 greater fame, used by Charpentier in his 
 opera of Louise. There is a street scene 
 on Montmartre, in the early winter morning 
 before day-light. Louise and her mother 
 cross the top of the hill on their way to 
 the atelier. Paris lies below them, still 
 149 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 glittering with lights. There are rag- 
 pickers, and vendors of cheap food and 
 drinks ; and a tattered, miserable creature 
 shufl3.e8 along, chanting in wonderful tones : 
 " Marchand d'habits ! Marchand d' habits ! " 
 He disappears from sight, and still you hear 
 the musical, pathetic cry. The reaHsm 
 of this greatly struck the popular fancy. 
 
 In the shops, a truly wonderful taste 
 draws attention ; even the meat-shops are 
 daintily arranged. Strings of sausages 
 wiU be as gracefully hung, in loops and 
 festoons, as are the strings of Orient pearls 
 in the jewelers' windows of the rue de la 
 Paix. Every detail is carefully studied ; at 
 every point good taste presides. And again, 
 how truly French are the great boulevards, 
 where, it has been said, more wit circulates 
 in one hour than in years elsewhere. For 
 our Frenchman is by nature an adept in 
 jeux d' esprit; the very cabby on his box 
 has his share of humour, and feels obhged to 
 make \ua observations — much to the amuse- 
 ment of his fare. " 'Tis all a comedy," 
 150 
 
J--B. Faure 
 

 -Sqj 
 
 ? 
 
 )t. 
 
FINALE 
 
 you may say, as lias been often said of 
 French life ; but even if this be admitted, a 
 clever and good-bumoured comedy is not to 
 be despised. 
 
 For decorations on a grand scale, no city 
 in the world equals Paris. At the time the 
 Emperor and Empress of Russia visited the 
 French capital, the avenue des Champs- 
 Elysees was a magnificent sight. This 
 avenue, from its vast width and length, 
 lends itself particularly well to decoration. 
 The month being October, its famous double 
 rows of horse-chestnut trees appeared, as 
 if by some magic, in fuU bloom! So per- 
 fect was the illusion, one could hardly 
 believe that all these miles of pyramidal 
 clusters of white flowers, had been made, 
 flower after flower, by skilful hands! As 
 the Czar and his lovely Czarina passed 
 along this historic avenue — where, but a 
 few years before, the German army had 
 defiled in triumph — it was like a scene 
 out of dreamland, with the intense popular 
 enthusiasm, the booming of cannon, the 
 161 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 music of military hands — and the chest- 
 nut trees flowering in autumn ! When 
 the Empress ahghted at the Russian em- 
 bassy that day, those who were near her 
 say that her eyes were fiUed with tears, so 
 greatly was she touched by the enthusiasm 
 of her reception. There was not one dis- 
 cordant voice in that great popular wel- 
 come. France felt that day that Russia 
 was truly her friend. 
 
 But, with all their gaieties and their 
 enthusiasms, the French people have their 
 serious side. The working classes are 
 simple, economical, and very industrious. 
 The women work with their husbands and 
 fathers, entering their shops as book- 
 keepers and saleswomen, quick and clever 
 at all they undertake. The artisan is, in 
 his way, an artist ; why should he not be, 
 with such treasures of art in galleries and 
 palaces to which he has free access ? This 
 taste and intelligence are so highly trained 
 that the humblest of them is competent to 
 tell you the epoch to which belongs any 
 162 
 
FINALE 
 
 oibjet d'art in his own line of work that you 
 may place before him. 
 
 The two great schools of art and music, 
 the Beaux-Arts and the Conservatoire, are 
 free to all who can pass the examination. 
 Two foreign pupils are admitted yearly to 
 the vocal class in the Conservatoire. In 
 this school every branch of the art and 
 science of music has its place, including 
 composition and acting, and the standard 
 of excellence is extremely high. This very 
 thoroughness has been a discouragement 
 to many American pupils, who have en- 
 tered the Conservatoire with rather a 
 superficial training. American girls who 
 sing are apt to arrive in Europe with the 
 idea that after a few months they will be 
 fitted for a leading rSle in Grand Opera; 
 and they are grievously disappointed on 
 finding that they must begin all over again. 
 The classic saying, "Art is long," seems 
 never to have occurred to them, or indeed 
 that there is any "art" at all. If Nature 
 has been fairly beneficent to them in the 
 163 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 matter of a voice, they consider the battle 
 a good deal more than half won. They 
 will dash off a full cavatina with the most 
 slovenly and deplorable pronounciation, or 
 one might almost say, with none at all. 
 Diction is an art scarcely attended to in 
 America. The American girl sings as she 
 often talks — unintelligibly. 
 
 One of my young lady compatriots 
 begged me to hear her voice, and calmly 
 unroUed a piece of music which, to my dis- 
 may, was nothing less than Casta Diva, 
 the grand aria from Norma. When I pro- 
 tested, and asked for some small romance, 
 she rephed that she only sang the great 
 things. It is needless to say that the beau- 
 tiful aria was rendered with a total ab- 
 sence of tone-production, intelligence, or 
 knowledge of the simplest rules ; and yet 
 the young lady had been told, and fully 
 believed, that she was a finished artist. 
 She had no idea of the amount of work to 
 be done before it is possible to please a 
 Parisian pubhc, the consummate finish in 
 154 
 
FINALE 
 
 every line and tone ; the student will have 
 many a heari^ache and shed many a tear, 
 before she can even get an audition ; and 
 often the Director will not allow more than 
 a few phrases, before he stops the singer, 
 telling her truthfully, if perhaps cruelly, 
 that she " will not please." 
 
 At the same time it is perfectly true — 
 and now generally admitted — that Amer- 
 ican voices are the finest in the world. 
 Mme. Nordica, Mme. Eames, Mme. Sander- 
 son, are all distinguished artists, and by 
 talent and study have placed themselves in 
 the front rank oi prime donne. 
 
 A very celebrated amateur, who had been 
 singing for years and had a great reputa- 
 tion as a singer, was told by Mme. Mar- 
 chesi at an audition, " You sing very well, 
 but I cannot understand a word you say." 
 A teacher of diction was eagerly sought, 
 and now, the poeni is pronounced so dis- 
 tinctly that not one word of it fails to be 
 understood. 
 
 It would have been a good lesson for all 
 156 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 young aspirants for fame who are faulty in 
 the matter of diction to attend a concert 
 given lately at the Trocad^ro, for the bene- 
 fit of the Artist Fund, to which M. Faure 
 offered his services. I fear we heard him 
 for the last time, as he is now seventy-two 
 years of age. A few details of this great 
 singer's career will, I am sure, be inter- 
 esting. M. Faure began his career as a 
 choir-boy, making his d^but as a barytone, 
 in 1852, at the Op^rarComique. In 1859 
 Meyerbeer wrote for him the r61e of Hoel 
 in the Pardon de Ploermel. His success 
 was so brilliant that two years later he was 
 received at the Grand Op^ra. . He was 
 again selected by Meyerbeer for an impor- 
 tant r81e, that of Nelushko in TAfricaine, 
 and this gave the final stamp to his reputa- 
 tion. For the next ten years no one of the 
 great works produced at the Grand Op6ra 
 was regarded as complete without him. He 
 sang in London and in Baden, but he is one 
 of the few famous French singers who could 
 never be tempted to cross the Atlantic. 
 156 
 
FINALE 
 
 In 1876, lie left the operatic stage, and 
 since then has sung but very rarely in 
 public. M. Faure is stiU the greatest bary- 
 tone singer we have, and, even now, his 
 voice is as fresh as that of a youth of 
 twenty, showing no sign of fatigue, so 
 perfect is his method. Four thousand peo- 
 ple were gathered in the great hall of the 
 Trocad^ro, to hear once more, after long 
 silence, this transcendant artist who had 
 been for years the idol of Parisian audi- 
 ences. The interest was very great to 
 know how M. Faure would sing, and how 
 much voice he had left. The perfect style 
 and faultless diction, as shown in the first 
 touching and tender words of his own com- 
 position le Crucifix : " Ceux qui souffrent" 
 with full organ accompaniment, dropped 
 on the audience like a great sob, and men 
 and women alike wept. The pretty duet 
 from Mirdlle followed — a performance re- 
 quiring great delicacy and finish. To the 
 surprised delight of all who knew the diffi- 
 culties of such vocalisation, it was most 
 157 
 
REMINISCENCES 
 
 daintily rendered. But the mastery with 
 which he gave the Noel was sublime : 
 
 " Peuple a genoux ! 
 Void le Redempteur I " 
 
 At these inspired words and the roll of 
 the grand organ, we felt ready to prostrate 
 ourselves in obedience, with as much fervour 
 as ever did pilgrims at a Papal Benedic- 
 tion. It was a moment in my life which 
 I shall hardly forget. Such marvellous 
 execution demonstrates that the vocal pow- 
 ers can be retained to a great age, if the 
 art of singing has been correctly studied 
 and understood; and without doubt Paris 
 is the one city in the world where the very 
 highest facihties for training the voice are 
 most easily obtained. 
 
 158