As she sang, an agonised expression came over her face, her limbs trembled, her efforts became more and more painful. It was the struggle of a brave woman against sinking nature, the vivid glare of an expiring lamp. Higher and higher rose the voice, paler and paler grew the singer.

Then came a last wild note of despair: the swan song was ended, and Maria Malibran staggered from the platform, to sink exhausted into the arms of loving comrades.

A grateful public vied each with the other in doing honour to their heroine, but, alas! those thunders of applause fell on ears that heard them not. Maria Malibran lay hovering 'twixt life and death.

But the end was not yet. She rallied, and was borne across to her room at the hotel, and here she lingered for nine days in a fever before the end came. On her deathbed her poor brain was in song-land, and almost with her last breath she sang s.n.a.t.c.hes of her favourite airs.

On October 1, 1836, her burial took place at the south aisle of the Collegiate Church, Manchester, but the remains were afterwards removed to Brussels, where they were reinterred in a mausoleum erected by her husband. Here for many years, on each succeeding anniversary of her death, the musicians of Brussels were wont to deposit their visiting-cards at the grille of the now deserted mausoleum, the cupola of which still towers above the surrounding tombs. It was not long after the singer's death that "Tom Ingoldsby"--a stripling of seventeen in the year of Manuel Garcia's birth--put into the mouth of his Lord Tom Noddy the oft-quoted lines--

"Malibran's dead, Duvernay's fled, Taglioni has not yet arrived in her stead."

Of Maria Malibran's powers as an artist her brother could never speak too highly. She was richly endowed with the artistic genius of the family, and was possessed of a contralto of marvellous purity and richness, being at the same time gifted with great histrionic powers.

Her singing, as has been already stated, was always full of fire and warmth, while, besides her pa.s.sion, there was gentle pathos, which had great effect on the listener. As a girl she was _pet.i.te_ and slight, with burning cheeks and flaming eyes. Though not a beautiful woman, she was extremely attractive. Her head was well shaped, her mouth rather large, but her smile very sweet, and she had the most perfect set of teeth, while her pretty figure was full of graceful curves.

Her versatility was shown not only in her extraordinary vocal and histrionic achievements and skill in vocal improvisation, but in her powers as a linguist, while as an artist her sketches were good, and sometimes amusing. Moreover, her vivacious temperament and ready wit found an outlet in a love of fun and mimicry. An instance of this is related by John Parry, the composer and singer of refined comic songs.

The incident took place at an evening party in Naples.

"Such a merry-making, frolicsome sort of party I never witnessed," he says. "We had much _good_ singing, as you may suppose; but Mazzinghi's comic duet of "When a little farm we keep"--which I had the honour of singing with Malibran--carried all before it, in consequence of the exquisite manner in which she sang the _do re mi_ part of it; and when she repeated it she executed the florid divisions so delightfully, and so brilliantly, yet quite differently from the first time, that the company was enraptured.... The prima donna requested Lablache to sustain the low F, me to sing B flat, and others the harmonic intervals above, then to place the finger on the side of the nose, so as to form a drone, while she imitated the squeaking tones of the bagpipes in such a manner as to cause the loudest laughter, especially when we sank our voices very slowly together, as if the wind in the bellows was nearly exhausted."

Maria Malibran was, moreover, a veritable tomboy when she was in the company of children, being up to all sorts of tricks, and rested by painting beautiful pictures; would dress as a man, and drive the coach from place to place, and when she arrived, brown with the sun and dust of Italy, would sometimes jump into the sea. Then she would go straight to the opera and, having sung "Amina," "Norma," or "The Maid of Artois,"

as we shall perhaps never hear them sung again, return home to write or sing comic songs. At c.o.c.k-crow she was out galloping her horse off its legs before a rehearsal in the morning, a concert in the afternoon, and the opera at night.

Such was Maria Malibran, untiring in energy, scarcely resting a moment.

Little wonder that she did not live to the same age as the rest of her family, for she died at twenty-eight, whereas her mother lived to be eighty-three, and her sister Pauline is still living, approaching her ninetieth birthday, while Manuel entered on his 102nd year before the Reaper summoned him.

Well did Lablache say of Maria Malibran, "Son esprit est trop fort pour son pet.i.t corps."

[Ill.u.s.tration: Pauline Viardot]

CHAPTER IX.

PAULINE VIARDOT-GARCIA.

(1837-1841.)

After the death of Malibran in 1836, the ensuing years of Manuel Garcia's life were spent in steady progress of fame as a teacher. The next event of importance in his career took place four years later.

These intervening years were, however, brightened by much reflected glory, for as the period between 1830 and 1836 saw the triumphs of his eldest sister and pupil, Maria Malibran, so this next one brought the success of his youngest sister, Pauline Viardot, also his pupil.

Her first lessons had been received as a child at the hands of her father, but seeing that she was only eleven years old when he died, it may be certainly claimed that her brother was responsible for the greater part of her training.

It was in 1837, the year which saw the accession of Queen Victoria, that she made her _debut_ as a singer at Brussels. This was not, however, her first appearance on the platform, for she had already shown herself to be an admirable pianist. Her earliest lessons in pianoforte had been received in New York from Marcos Vega, being afterwards continued under Meyssenberg; but the most important part of her study was done under Liszt.

The German pianist had already made considerable success by the time his father died in 1827, when he himself was but sixteen years old. The event brought a great change in his circ.u.mstances, and made it necessary for him to keep himself by teaching. His services were at once in demand among the best families, and in due course Pauline was placed under him.

Though she refers to her talent on the instrument as "pa.s.sable," Liszt counted her one of his best pupils.

After studying for some time she made her appearance as a pianist at several concerts organised by her sister and de Beriot in Belgium and Germany. Composition, too, she learned under Reicha, and it was to him that she owed that grasp of the technique of her art by which she was able to give full scope to the richness of her own inspiration.

In 1837, as we have already said, her _debut_ as a vocalist was made at Brussels. After this she went on a concert tour with de Beriot, and sang at a concert in Paris in 1838 at the Theatre de la Renaissance, when her powers of execution were brilliantly displayed in a _cadence du Diable_.

After these preliminary appearances, which were designed to make her "feel her feet," Pauline Garcia, on May 9, 1839, made her London _debut_ at Her Majesty's Theatre, as Desdemona in "Otello." Her success was instantaneous: without hesitation the public favour which had been bestowed on her sister was given to her also, with almost greater enthusiasm. From the commencement it was conceded that she was a remarkable artist.

She was a mezzo-soprano, with fine clear upper notes, and a wonderful execution in bravura pa.s.sages. Moreover, as an actress she was equally successful in tragedy or comedy, besides being a perfect musician. And yet, as Senor Garcia would remark, there was not in her case a "phenomenal voice," as there had been in that of the lamented Malibran.

It was, according to her brother, by no means a great one, and the voice alone would in ordinary circ.u.mstances have been placed in the second cla.s.s.

There is a well-known story of a certain painter being asked by one of his sitters: "Tell me, with what do you mix your paints to get these wonderful effects?" "Madame," was the reply, "I mix them with my brains." So, too, Pauline Garcia may be said to have sung with her brains.

It was indeed the triumph of mind over matter. With her it was another case which went to uphold the truth of the well-known dictum that "Genius is the capacity for taking infinite pains." She possessed the will-power and determination to rise above all obstacles, as Demosthenes had possessed it centuries before, when he made up his mind to become a leading advocate, and, in order to attain greater clearness of enunciation, spent hour after hour by the seash.o.r.e, where he would recite, his mouth filled with pebbles. With what a result! The Athenian ended by becoming one of the world's greatest orators: Senor Garcia's youngest sister became one of the world's greatest dramatic singers.

In the autumn of 1839 she went to Paris for a season at the Theatre Italien, for which she had been engaged by the impresario, Mons. Louis Viardot, a distinguished writer and critic, and founder of the 'Revue Independante.' Here she shared in the triumphs of Grisi, Persiani, Rubini, Tamburini, and Lablache; while her princ.i.p.al parts were three _roles_ as different as they were characteristic--in the operas of "Otello," "Cenerentola," and "The Barber of Seville."

Many tributes were paid by those who heard her. Liszt, under whom she had studied the piano, wrote of her in these terms--

"In all that concerns method and execution, feeling and expression, it would be hard to find a name worthy to be mentioned with that of Maria Malibran's sister. In her, virtuosity serves only as a means of expressing the idea, the thought, the character of a work or a _role_."

George Sand called her "the personification of poetry and music," and set down her impressions on listening to the singer thus: "The pale, still,--one might at the first glance say l.u.s.treless,--countenance, the suave and unconstrained movements, the astonishing freedom from every sort of affectation,--how transfigured all this appears, when she is carried away by her genius on the current of song!"

Her first appearance in Paris was greeted by Alfred de Musset, the poet of Romanticism and warm friend of Victor Hugo, in those well-known lines--

"Ainsi donc, quoi qu'on dise, elle ne tarit pas La source immortelle et feconde Que le coursier divin fit jaillir sous ses pas."

When de Musset wished to crystallise in prose his feelings on hearing her sing, he expressed himself in these words--

"Si Pauline Garcia a la voix de sa sur, elle en a l'ame en meme temps, et, sans la moindre imitation, c'est le meme genie.... Elle chante comme elle respire.... Sa physionomie, pleine d'expression, change avec une rapidite prodigieuse, avec une liberte extreme, non seulement selon le morceau, mais encore selon la phrase qu'elle execute.

Avant d'exprimer, elle sent."

Again, Richard Wagner pays a remarkable tribute to her powers in a letter to L. Uhl relating to his stay in Paris in 1859, and to the attempts to arrange for the production of "Tristan" there. In it the composer recounts how the same difficulty of reading the _roles_ of this work was encountered in Germany, which militated much against its production. "Madame Viardot," he writes, "expressed to me one day her astonishment that in Germany people always spoke of this difficulty of reading the music of 'Tristan.' She asked me if in Germany the artists were not then musicians? I for my part hardly know how to enlighten her on this point; for this grand artiste sang through at sight, with the most perfect expression, a whole act of the _role_ of Isolda."

Such was the artiste whose _debut_ in London in 1839 was followed by so brilliant a career.

We now come to 1840--a year made noteworthy in the life of Garcia by another important advance in his career.

Since his appointment to a professorship at the Paris Conservatoire, his reputation had continued to be steadily consolidated, and his _clientele_ included, besides those who were being trained for the musical profession, a great number of amateur pupils, among whom were to be found not only some of the most distinguished names in Paris, but many members of the royal family itself. Throughout this period he had been steadily working to increase his knowledge relative to the mechanism of the voice, and at last, in 1840, he found that his investigations had reached a point at which they might be found of interest to others.

Accordingly, in this year he set down the result of his studies in the cla.s.sical paper which he submitted to the Academie des Sciences de France under the t.i.tle, "Memoire sur la voix humaine," to which was added the rather odd-sounding subt.i.tle, "Description des produits du phonateur humain." In it he embodied the various discoveries which he had made relating to the larynx.

Among the princ.i.p.al points to which he drew attention were the following:--

(1) The head voice does not necessarily begin where the chest voice ends, and a certain number of notes can be produced in either register.

(2) The chest voice and the head voice are produced by a special and spontaneous modification of the vocal organs, and the exhaustion of the air contained in the chest is more rapid in the proportion of four to three in the production of a head than a chest note.

(3) The voice can produce the same sounds in two different timbres--the clear or open, and the sombre or closed.

The memoir on the human voice was duly reported on by Majendie, Savart, and Dutrochet at a public meeting which was held on April 12, 1841, the result being that this resolution was pa.s.sed: "The thanks of the Academy are due to Professor Garcia for the skilful use which he has made of his opportunities as a teacher of singing to arrive at a satisfactory physical theory of the human voice." The circ.u.mstance gave occasion for a somewhat acrimonious discussion concerning certain points of priority as between Garcia and MM. Diday and Petrequin, two French scientists.

This was followed up by the publication of the 'Method of Teaching Singing,' in which Garcia cleared up the confusion which had hitherto existed between "timbre" and "register."