"'Good! Now turn this into a singing note; sing one tone lower in the same manner, and one more.'"

A simple enough device, which spared him and his pupil much vexation.

His knowledge of the human voice and his power of detecting its faults were equally marvellous. He had a pupil who, by singing higher than her natural range, had strained her voice, and it was necessary that she should avoid singing anything in a high register. Once only she disobeyed him, and on entering his room the next day she was greatly surprised that the master's face was flushed with anger. At once he reproached her for having sung soprano. She pleaded guilty. "But how did you know?"

"I heard you speak, that is quite enough," he said; and he told her that in ten years not a note would be left of her brilliant voice. However, on her promising not to disobey his instructions again, Garcia made up his mind to help the girl to come out under his auspices as an oratorio singer. "But," he told her, "you will need one year's uninterrupted study before appearing in public."

The pupil's singing was much admired, for few besides herself and her master could detect that anything was amiss with her voice. She was not inclined, therefore, to realise the importance of his decision, and after a few months' work she cheerfully accepted an invitation to spend the winter abroad. When she informed him of this he bade her farewell, saying that it would be perfectly useless for her to come back to him, because, when accepting her as a pupil, his condition was--"One year's uninterrupted study."

Thinking it would be an easy matter to talk him over, she came back to him on her return. But she had not reckoned with the iron will of the maestro. He refused to give her any more lessons. For over an hour she sat in his room, and as one lesson after another was given, she could not keep back her tears. The situation became intense, but the teacher did not lose control. He was pained to see her sorrow, and at last rose from his seat and led her gently away, saying, "Never in my life have I wavered over a decision once made; I cannot do so now. You must make the best of what you know already; you will probably get engagements, but do not base your future on singing."

Time has proved that he was right. After a few years she began to lose her high notes rapidly, and soon her voice was completely gone.

I have already alluded to the maestro's hatred of the tremolo. In this connection an old pupil has sent me the following note:--

"I was going through the various exercises in the book, 'Hints on Singing,' and one day, after I had been studying some little time, there came the usual query, 'What is the next exercise we come to?' 'The shake,' I replied promptly, and added, 'Shall I take that?' The maestro gave a quiet smile as he answered, 'Well, no, I think not. You shake quite enough for the present. We will pa.s.s on to the following one. With this gentle rebuke at the tremolo, of which I had not as yet been able to get rid, he went on to tell me how he had been at the opera a few nights before, 'and, Mon Dieu, what tremolo! I could have howled like a dog as I listened.'"

Not only had Manuel Garcia a remarkably accurate ear, but he possessed the gift of "absolute pitch," a fact shown by the following anecdote. A friend called to see him one afternoon, and the conversation turned upon the question of pitch. Garcia shook his head reproachfully when the visitor, who was some seventy years his junior, stated that he could not tell what a note was by ear.

"No sooner had I said this," writes this friend in describing the incident, "than the old maestro rose from his seat, stood with his back to the piano, and told me to strike any note I liked and he would name it. As rapidly as possible I struck the notes, and instantaneously he called out what they were. I must have sounded upwards of two dozen, one after the other, so rapidly that he was never left time to consider.

Without a moment's hesitation he named each in turn without a single mistake."

CHAPTER XVIII.

AN OCTOGENARIAN AUTHOR.

(1890-1895.)

The five years preceding the celebration of Manuel Garcia's ninetieth birthday are princ.i.p.ally noteworthy for two episodes, which I will leave Mr Hermann Klein to relate, since he was intimately connected with both.

The first took place during the summer of 1892.

"In the midst of this abnormally busy season, M. Maurel elected to deliver a lecture at the Lyceum Theatre on 'The Application of Science to the Arts of Speech and Song.' This duly came off, and its main feature proved to be an exceedingly virulent tirade against the _coup de la glotte_. This would not have mattered much had it not happened that Manuel Garcia himself was present, and had to 'possess his soul in patience,' while M. Maurel executed some ridiculous imitations of what he considered to be the indispensable vocal concomitants of the _coup de la glotte_,--a term derided only by certain Paris teachers who have misunderstood and misdirected its use.

"Age and dignity alike compelled Signor Garcia to sit still and treat with silent contempt this ill-timed and unjustifiable attack upon his method.

"When the lecture was over, however, I offered him the columns of 'The Sunday Times' as a medium for replying to M. Maurel's a.s.sertions.

"On the spur of the moment he accepted, and sent a short account of the lecture, written in his own terse and trenchant manner. Then thinking better of it, he decided not to take any personal part in the discussion, and requested me not to print his copy.

"This threw the onus of reply upon me, and the answer proved so far effectual that M. Maurel was moved to make a protest in other London papers against any contradiction of his 'scientific argumentation,' save by M. Garcia himself, and not even then unless supported by something beyond 'simple denial.'

"Accordingly, the maestro then consented to write a letter to 'The Sunday Times,' confirming the statement that he had found M. Maurel's ill.u.s.trations of the _coup de la glotte_ 'extremely exaggerated,' but declining that gentleman's invitation to discuss the subject-matter of his lecture, and adding that it would be utterly impossible to argue upon theories which still remain to be revealed."

The second episode took place shortly after the maestro had entered his ninetieth year,--an event which was celebrated at the Royal Academy of Music by the gift of a silver tea service, subscribed to by the professors of the R.A.M., the actual presentation being made by Walter Macfarren, as _doyen_ of the teaching staff.

Some two months after this--that is to say, in the May of 1894--Hermann Klein received a letter from the veteran teacher, who a few days before had attended a dinner given at his house in honour of Paderewski, the other invited guests being Sir Arthur Sullivan, Sir Joseph Barnby, Sir A. C. Mackenzie, Signor Piatti, and other prominent musicians. The maestro, it may be mentioned, had never heard Paderewski play in private before, and was so enchanted when the latter sat down at the piano, that he remained listening to the music till past midnight. "A worthy successor to Rubinstein." This was his criticism of Paderewski's genius.

The letter ran as follows:--

"MON ABRI," CRICKLEWOOD.

DEAR MR KLEIN,--I want to know the cost of printing music, and in this connection would ask you to write answers to the four questions contained in the enclosed card. I suppose that in England or in France the ream consists of 500 sheets?

Excuse my troubling you, and believe me your very sincere

M. GARCIA.

Your evening was charming!

Hermann Klein answered the questions in person, and thus quickly discovered the nature of the scheme that was afoot.

Manuel Garcia in his ninetieth year intended to bring out another text-book on Singing. His old pupil at once offered to a.s.sist in the editing and arrangement of the MS., and the maestro readily accepted the proffered help. I will leave Mr Klein to continue the story.

"For several weeks in succession I went to 'Mon Abri' regularly, to aid him in the work. On two points he insisted--namely, the 'catechism' form of the text, and the t.i.tle, 'Hints on Singing,' which I candidly confessed I did not care for. Otherwise any little suggestion that I made was cordially agreed to. He was very careful about the signing of the contract with the publishers (Messrs Ascherberg), and on this point wrote as follows:--

_Translation_.

'MON ABRI,' Monday, May 7.

DEAR MR KLEIN,--I have thought that at the reading of the contract between Mr Ascherberg and myself, if it were to be immediately followed by the signing, we should not have time completely to understand the clauses. As these doubtless will contain the details regarding the Colonial, American, and foreign rights, it is preferable that we should know in advance what the terms are, and we should be very much obliged to Mr Ascherberg if he would be so kind as to send us on a copy of the contract. We will send it back to him any day that may suit you.--Mille amities!

M. GARCIA.

"Three months later the printing was finished, and early in September the proofs began to come to hand. We were both away from London when I received this missive:--

_Translation._

GALE HOUSE, LAKE ROAD, AMBLESIDE, WESTMORELAND, _September_ 7.

MY DEAR FRIEND,--Are you in town?

I have been working _like a little n.i.g.g.e.r_ correcting, transposing, suppressing, &c., the proofs. I will send you my first corrected proof, and will you please forward it to Ascherberg for the printers? but I do not wish to do this until I know that you are in town.--Amities!

M. GARCIA.

"The question of a preface now came up. The maestro was somewhat averse to providing one, but ultimately he yielded to the desire of the publisher, who was naturally anxious that the 'Hints' should contain everything calculated to arouse attention. He wrote only a few lines, however, and I had to persuade him to add more. He also decided to include a reproduction of the well-known woodcut of himself using the laryngoscope by the light of an oil-lamp, and a couple of laryngoscopic mirrors (half-size), which by some mistake nearly came to being omitted.

With the proofs he took infinite pains, and wrote me several notes about them, of which the following deserve quotation:--

_Translation._

DEAR FRIEND,--Among some corrections which I have been making at the printer's, I have eliminated pages Nos.---- (I have forgotten the numbers). I asked to see the whole of the proofs, and they have sent me only those which were uncorrected. If I can get them immediately (the newly-corrected lot) you will doubtless have the whole set without delay.

In the preface they have taken out the two little mirrors: now one--the smaller--would be necessary, and sufficient to explain the laryngoscope.