Part 22

“If I _gave_ one to my friends and spent three thousand francs over it I should only be the more reviled by the press.

“After seeing you I shall go right on to St Symphorien and thence to Monaco to roll in the violets and sleep in the sun.

“I suffer so continually, dear lady; my paroxysms of pain are so frequent that I cannot think what is to become of me.

“I do not want to die now, for I have something to live for.”[35]

_To_ WLADIMIR STASSOFF.

“PARIS, _1st March 1868_.--I did not write sooner, I was too ill. And now I want to tell you that I am leaving for Monaco at seven this evening.

“I cannot imagine why I do not die.

“But since I am living, I am going to see my dear Nice, the rocks of Villefranche and the sun of Monaco.

“I hear that the sculptor is having three copies of my New York bust cast; was it you who suggested getting one for the St Petersburg Conservatoire? More can easily be made.

“Address your letters to me to 4 Rue de Calais, Paris, and they will be forwarded.

“Oh! to think that I shall soon be lying on the marble seats of Monaco, in the sun, by the sea!!

“Do not be too severely just to me. Write me long letters in return for my short ones; bethink you that I am ill, that your letters do me good; don’t talk nonsense and don’t speak of my composing....

“My kindest regards to your charming sister-in-law and daughter and to your brother. I can see them all so vividly before me. Write soon. Your letter and the SUN will give me new life.

“Unfortunate wight that you are! You live in the snow!”

_To the Same._

“PARIS, _April 1868_.

“MY DEAR STASSOFF,--You call me _Monsieur_ Berlioz, both you and Cui. I forgive you both!

“I was nearly killed the other day. I went to Monaco sun-hunting and, three days after in scrambling down the rocks, I fell head first on to my face and bled so profusely that, for a long time, I was unable to get up and go back to the hotel.

“However, as I had taken my place in the omnibus to Nice, I was bound to get up and go back there next day.

“Hardly arrived there, I wished to see once more the terrace by the sea, of which my recollection was so vivid. I went down and sat there but, in changing my seat, again I fell on my face. Two passers-by lifted me with great difficulty and took me to the Hotel des Etrangers, where I was staying, which was close by. I was put to bed and there I stayed, without a doctor, seeing no one but the servants for a week.

“Feeling a little better after my week’s seclusion and damaged as I was, I took the train back to Paris.

“My mother-in-law and servant exclaimed with horror on seeing me; but now I have had a doctor and he has treated me so cleverly that, after more than a month of it, I can barely walk, holding on to the furniture.

“My nose is nearly all right outside.

“Would you kindly find out why my score of the _Trojans_ has not been returned. I suppose the copying is finished and that it is no longer needed.

“I can write no more ... if I wait till I am better it may be a long while.... Do write to me. It will be a real charity.”

_To_ AUGUSTE MOREL.

“PARIS, _26th May 1868_.--I have been greatly tried and find it still hard to write. My two falls, one at Monaco, the other at Nice, have taken all my strength.

“The traces are almost gone now, but my old trouble has come back and I suffer more than ever.

“I wish I could have seen you and Lecourt when I was near Marseilles; I should have gone round that way had I not been in such a sad state.

“Yet to meet you would have upset me more than to see anyone else. Few of my friends loved Louis as you did. I cannot forget it, so you must forgive me.”

_To_ WLADIMIR STASSOFF.

“PARIS, _21st August 1868_.

“DEAR STASSOFF,--You see I leave out the _Monsieur_.

“I have just come from Grenoble, where they had almost forced me to go and preside at a sort of musical festival and to be present at the unveiling of a statue of Napoleon I.

“They ate and drank and did a hundred and fifty other things and I felt so ill....

“They fetched me in a carriage and toasted me, but I could not reply. The Mayor of Grenoble was full of compliments, he presented me with a gilt crown, but I had to sit a whole hour at that banquet.

“Next day I left and arrived home at eleven at night, more dead than alive.

“I feel good for nothing and I get such letters--asking me to do impossibilities. They want me to say nice things of a German artist, which is right enough since I agree thoroughly, but at the expense of a Russian artist of whom I think well also and whom they want to oust in favour of the German.

“I cannot lend myself to it. What a devil of a world this is!

“I feel that I am dying; I believe in nothing; but I long to see you, you might perhaps cheer me up--you and Cui. I am beyond measure bored and weary. All my friends are away in the country or shooting. They ask me to go and visit them, but I have not the spirit.

“Write, I beg; as shortly as you will, but write! I still feel the effects of my Monaco and Nice accidents.

“If you are in St Petersburg write me even _six lines_, I shall be so grateful.

“You are so kind; show it now.

“I press your hands.”

Berlioz lived seven months longer.

On returning from Russia he consulted a physician who asked:

“Are you a philosopher?”

“Yes,” he replied.

“Then gather all the courage you can from philosophy, for you are incurable.”

He was evidently too worn and weak to take the Riviera journey alone.

Although warmly welcomed and cared for at his hotel, his two falls could not but use up his little remaining strength, and that little was cruelly drained by the last journey to Grenoble--a strangely weird and dramatic episode, a worthy conclusion to his stormy, overcast life. The scene is well described by M. Bernard:--

“In a brilliantly lighted hall, hung with magnificent draperies, at a richly spread table a gay crowd awaits the chief guest of the evening.

“The curtains are torn aside, and a phantom appears. The ghost of Banquo? No, the skeleton form of Berlioz, his face pale and thin, his eyes vacant and wandering, his head trembling, his lips drawn in a bitter smile.

“They crowd around him and press his hands--those palsied hands that have so often led the armies of music to victory. A crown is placed upon his silver locks.

“Vacantly he gazes round upon these fellow-citizens, gathered to do him homage--sincere, but how belated!--mechanically he rises to reply to words of which he has hardly grasped the meaning.

“Suddenly a furious Alpine gale dashes down into the hall, tearing at the curtains, extinguishing the lights; outside the squall whistles shrilly, the lightning cuts the blackness of the clouds, casting sinister gleams on the faces of the dumb and startled assembly.

“Alone, amid the howls of the tempest, Berlioz stands, wrapped in flashes of vivid green--the spirit of symphony--colossal musician, whose apotheosis is heralded by Nature with her wildest, grandest music.”

That was the end.

On Monday morning, the 8th March 1869, Hector Berlioz died.

His funeral took place on the following Thursday at the Church of the Trinity.

The Institute sent a deputation, the band of the National Guard played selections from his _Funeral Symphony_; on the coffin lay wreaths from the St Cecilia Society, from the youths of Hungary, from the Russian nobles, and from the town of Grenoble.

He was dead--the atonement began.

INDEX

_Africaine, L’_, 277.

_Alcestis_, 26, 231, 237, 285, 293.

Alexandre, 249, 292.

Aleyrac, d’, 18.

Alizard, 52.

Allard, 140.

Ambros, Dr, 199.

Amussat, 17, 192.

Andrieux, 17, 19, 20.

_Antony_, 136.

_Arab Horse_, 18.

_Armida_, 112, 282.

Artot, 160.

_Athalie_, 21.

Aubré, d’, 85.

Balfe, 278.

Ballanche, 141.

Balzac, 202.

Barbier, 142-3, 152.

Batta, 160-1.

Bauderali, Madame, 274.

Beale, 214, 224.

_Beatrice and Benedict_, 233-4, 238-40, 245, 248, 272.

Beethoven, 39, 41, 60-2, 70, 78, 81, 143-4, 174, 194.

Belloni, 200.

Benazet, 227, 233, 240, 248.

Benedict, 160.

Ber, 231.

Berlioz, Adèle, 217, 254.

“ Dr, 2, 81, 140, 211.

“ Louis, 140-1, 156, 189, 201, 206, 215, 217, 220-3, 234, 237-8, 252, 269, 272, 275, 277, 281, 287-9.

“ Madame, 30.

“ Marie Recio, 222, 233, 236, 238, 249.

“ Nanci, 10, 30, 217.

“ Victor, 212.

Bernard, Daniel, 272.

“ General, 146, 148.

Bertin, Armand, 146, 151, 155.

“ “ 142, 146, 150, 202.

Berton, 40.

Bienaimé, 150.

Bishop, Sir H., 210.

Blanc, 151.

Blanche, 274.

Bloc, 57, 75, 76.

Boïeldieu, 40, 79-81.

Boissieux, 45.

Bordogni, 149.

Bouché, 187.

Branchu, Madame, 17, 28.

Broadwood, 224.

Broderotti, 248.

Brugnières, 59.

Bulow, von, 234, 252.

Byron, 97, 119, 139.

Capitaine, Mdlle., 169.

_Carnaval Romain_, 153, 246.

Carné, de, 62.

Carvalho, 242, 244-5.

Carus, Dr, 181.

Castilblaze, 47-8.

Catel, 40, 61.

Cazalès, 62.

Cécile, Admiral, 222.

_Cellini, Benvenuto_, 142, 152-4, 223, 228.

Charbonnel, 36-7.

Charton-Demeur, Madame, 239-40, 243, 245, 270, 282-3.

Châteaubriand, 23, 74.

Chélard, 175-7.

Chénié, 45.

Cherubini, 26, 32, 38, 40, 54-5, 57, 60, 66, 69, 70-1, 74, 93, 129, 146, 148-50, 190.

_Childhood of Christ_, 201, 222, 226, 249.

Chopin, 51, 133, 162, 205.

Choral Symphony, 214, 293.

_Cinq Mai_, 183.

_Cleopatra_, 78-9.

_Correspondant, Le_, 74, 78.

Costa, Sir M., 49, 215, 223.

Coste, 142.

Crispino, 115, 116.

Cui, 296, 298.

Dabadie, Madame, 80.

_Damnation de Faust_, 75, 128, 200-2, 276, 285, 286.

Damcke, 245, 270, 279, 290.

Damrémont, General, 146

Dauverné, 166.

_Death of Abel_, 33.

_Death of Orpheus_, 40, 54-6.

Delessert, 191.

Dérivis, 17, 28, 59, 161.

Deschamps, 133.

Dessauer, 188.

_Devin du Village_, 42.

Dobré, Melle., 187.

Dochler, 160.

_Don Giovanni_, 49.

Dorant, 10.

Dorval, Madame, 136.

Dumas, 135, 162.

Duponchel, 149, 152-3.

Dupont, 56-7, 59, 70.

Duprez, 57, 161, 187.

Eckstein, d’, 74.

Estelle, 6, 8, 120, 124, 211-12, 221, 256-271, 279, 282.

_Estelle et Némorin_, 12, 21, 25.

Emperor of Austria, 195.

“ the French, 64, 234, 236-7, 242.

Empress of Russia, 202.

“ the French, 233-4, 237.

Erard, Madame, 252, 273.

_Faust_, 73, 75, 77.

Ferrand, 23, 28, 33, 58, 62, 128, 189, 272-3, 285, 292.

Fétis, 49, 95, 132, 164.

_Figaro_, 49.

_Fingal’s Cave_, 178.

Fleury, 100-1.

Flotow, de, 274.

_Francs-Juges_, 33, 54, 56, 58, 77, 83, 94, 136, 171.

Frankoski, 159.

Freyschütz, 46-7, 78, 171, 187.

Friedland, 202.

_Gamester_, 21.

Gardel, 38.

Garrick, 49.

Gasparin, de, 143-4, 148-9.

Gasperini, 245, 274.

Gatayes, 166.

Gay-Lussac, 17.

_Gazette Musicale_, 141-2.

Génast, 176.

Gervaert, 233.

Gluck, 18, 20-1, 29, 41-2, 50, 62-3.

Goethe, 73, 175.

_God of the Christians_, 68.

Gossec, 21.

Goubeaux, 160.

Gounet, 83, 133, 235.

Gounod, 233, 274.

Gras, Madame, 209.

Grasset, 90.

Grétry, 62.

Grisi, 161.

Gros, 28.

Guédéonoff, 203-4.

Guérin, 28.

Guhr, 168-70, 175.

Gye, 210.

Habeneck, 49, 59, 60, 93-4, 103, 147, 152, 163-7, 190.

Halévy, 146.

Hallé, 160-1.

_Hamlet_, 50, 52, 73, 136.

Handel, 62.

_Harold_, 139, 142, 155, 171, 175, 185, 246.

Haydn, 61.

Heine, 183.

Helen, Grand Duchess, 290, 292-4.

Heller, Stephen, 18, 177, 252.

Helmesberger, 286.

Herbeck, 286.

Hiller, Ferdinand, 81, 85, 93, 112, 127, 162, 169, 175, 288.

Hogarth, 210.

Hohenzollern-Hechingen, Prince von, 172, 246.

Hortense, Queen, 110.

Horwath, 197-8.

Hotin, 27.

Hummel, 176.

Huguenots, 143.

Hugo, Victor, 143, 151.

Imbert, 8.

_Imperial Cantata_, 231.

_Iphigenia in Tauris_, 18, 43, 210.

Irish Melodies, 51, 94, 179.

Janin, Jules, 135, 157, 219.

_Jean de Paris_, 80.

_Journal des Débats_, 24, 63, 141.

Jullien, 207-11.

_King Lear_, 106, 108, 112, 173, 178, 192, 246.

King of Hanover, 206, 227.

“ Prussia, 202, 206.

“ Saxony, 128, 228.

Klopstock, 119.

Krebs, 186.

Kreutzer, L., 245.

“ R., 33, 40, 43, 49, 60.

Lablachk, 160.

_La Captive_, 117.

Lachner, 175.

Lachnith, 48.

Lafayette, 87.

Larochefoucauld, 33, 54.

Le Chuzeau, 31.

Lecourt, 297.

Lefevbre, 117.

Légouvé, 154, 161.

Lenz, 203.

_Lélio_, 79, 117, 128, 130.

Lesueur, 18, 19, 25, 28, 33, 39, 40, 47, 60, 62, 81.

Le Tessier, 46.

Lethière, 69.

Levaillant, 67.

Levasseur, 160.

Lipinski, 182-3.

Lindpaintner, 169-172, 174.

Liszt, 51, 93, 133, 136-7, 140, 154, 159, 173, 199, 200, 205, 220, 228, 234, 236-7, 242, 252, 273, 279, 283.

Lobe, 175-6.

Louis Philippe, 87.

Lubbert, 76.

Lumley, 209.

Lüttichau, von, 228.

Lwoff, 203, 213.

Macready, 209.

_Magic Flute_, 48, 50.

Malibran, 90.

Mangin, 244.

Marié, 188.

Marezeck, 210.

Marmion, 5.

Mars, Mdlle., 132.

_Marseillaise_, 87, 166.

Marschner, 176.

_Martha_, 274.

Marx, 75.

Massart, Madame, 251, 277, 280, 284, 293.

Masson, 22.

_Medea_, 26.

Méhul, 18.

Mendelssohn, 101-2, 112, 114, 177, 183, 209.

Mérimée, 251.

Meyerbeer, 143, 206, 229, 277.

Michaud, 63.

Michel, 35.

_Midsummer Night’s Dream_, 179.

Milanollo, 169.

Millevoye, 18.

Moke, Marie Pleyel-, 85, 91-2, 95, 108.

Moke, Madame, 91-2, 112.

_Monde Dramatique_, 141.

Montag, 176.

_Montecchi_, 109.

Montfort, 100, 112.

Morel, 162, 191, 228, 252, 297.

Mori, Mllde., 59.

Morny, de, 242.

Müller, 184-5.

Munier, 123.

Musard, 141.

Napoleon, Prince, 231.

Nathan-Treillet, Madame, 167.

Naudin, Mdlle., 161.

Nernst, 202.

Nicolaï, 194.

_Nina_, 2, 18.

_Noces des Fées_, 118.

Noailles, de, 91.

Œdipus, 35, 45.

Ortigue, d’, 159, 180, 213, 215, 219, 236, 245.

_Orpheus_, 237.

Paccini, 110.

Paër, 40, 60, 108.

Paganini, 108, 138, 155-8, 125.

“ Achille, 155.

Panseron, 59.

Parish-Alvars, 183.

Pasdeloup, 283.

Perne, 26.

Perrin, 285.

Persuis, 18.

Pfifferari, 117.

Piccini, 21.

Pillet, 164, 167, 187.

Pingard, 67-8, 71.

Pischek, 169, 195.

Planché, 210.

Pleyel, 102.

“ Marie (_see_ Moke).

Pons, de, 24-5, 31-2, 44.

Pohl, Madame, 246.

Pouilly, Madame, 47.

_Queen Mab_, 114, 165, 184.

_Quotidienne_, 63.

Raday, Count, 197.

Recio, Marie, 163.

Reeves, Sims, 209, 210.

Régnault, 71.

Reicha, 33, 38, 39.

Remusat, de, 162.

_Renovateur_, 141-2.

Reissiger, 182.

_Requiem_, 166, 180, 183, 190, 287, 294.

_Resurrexit_, 25, 57-8, 118.

_Revue Européenne_, 62-3, 119.

“ _Musicale_, 95, 132.

Reyer, 286.

Robert, 14, 16.

Rocquemont, 191.

_Rob Roy_, 117.

Romberg, 190, 203.

_Romeo and Juliet_, 49, 52, 71, 158-9, 183, 203, 227, 246, 286.

Rothschild, 156.

Rossini, 41, 62-3.

Rouget de Lisle, 87.

Rousseau, 42.

Rubini, 161.

Sacchini, 35.

Saint-Félix, 133.

“ Léger, 35.

“ Saëns, 282, 289.

Salieri, 17, 29.

Sand, Madame, 288.

_Sappho_, 40.

_Sardanapalus_, 89, 93-4, 136.

Saxe-Weimar, Grand Duke, 177, 186, 206, 227, 248.

Saxe-Weimar, Grand Duchess, 246

Sayn-Wittgenstein, Princess von, 242.

Schiller, 175-6.

Schilling, Dr, 170-2.

Schlesinger, 130, 140.

Schlick, 102-3.

Schoelcher, 161.

Schott, 168.

Schumann, 180.

“ Madame, 181.

Schutter, 130.

Scribe, 142.

Seifriz, 246-7.

Shakespeare, 50, 60, 219.

Smart, Sir G., 210.

Smithson, Henriette, 50, 52, 58, 72-3, 82, 84, 92, 129-136, 140, 156, 163, 217-20, 227, 250.

Snel, 163.

Spiegel, Baron von, 176.

Spohr, 78.

Spontini, 33, 41, 50, 110, 134, 284.

Spontini, Madame, 273.

Stassoff, 295-7.

Steinway, 291.

Stolz, Madame, 187.

_Stratonice_, 18.

Strakosch, 258.

Strauss, 191.

Suat, 253.

_Symphonie Fantastique_, 75, 94, 117, 124, 136, 140, 143, 155, 292.

Täglichsbeck, 173.

Tajan-Rogé, 207.

Tamburini, 161.

Talma, 21.

Tannhäuser, 236.

Tasso, 68.

_Tempest_, 76-7, 95.

_Te Deum_, 228.

Thalberg, 160, 183.

Thénard, 17.

Thomas, 162.

Tilmant, 191.

Topenheim, Baron von, 170.

_Trojans, The_, 224, 232-3, 237, 241-5, 267, 269, 274, 276.

Troupenas, 132.

Vaillant, Marshal, 251-2.

Valentino, 22-3, 43-4.

Vanderheufel-Duprez, Madame, 249.

Vernet, Horace, 98, 101-2, 106, 113, 118, 124, 127.

Vernet, Mdlle., 117, 125-6.

Viardot, Madame, 237, 249.

Vieuxtemps, 205.

Vigny, de, 141-2.

Vogt, 18.

Volney, de, 67.

Wagner, 182, 228-9, 236-7.

Wailly, de, 142, 152, 219.

Walewski, Count, 237.

_Walpurgis Nacht_, 179, 180.

_Waverley_, 37, 54.

Weber, 41, 46-8, 60, 62, 136.

Wielhorski, Count, 203.

Wieniawski, 294.

_World’s Last Day_, 118.

X., de, 144-8, 151.

Zinkeisen, 184.

FOOTNOTES:

[A] From original drawings by J. Y. DAWBARN.

[1] Berlioz’ “burnt” does not necessarily mean that they were put in the fire, but simply that they were relegated to a portfolio limbo, whence they sometimes emerged to be used again with fine results.

[2] Gluck and Piccini were of entirely opposite schools.

[3] Chopin and Liszt once spent a whole night hunting for him in the fields.

[4] Of him more later on.

[5] Between these two letters Berlioz had a meeting with Miss Smithson, who told him frankly that his pretensions were impossible.

[6] _Le Correspondant._

[7] Moore’s “Irish Melodies.”

[8] In his letters he says that Mademoiselle Moke was present with her mother.--ED.

[9] A play upon his red hair.

[10] Mendelssohn’s letter of 29th March 1831 gives a very severe description of Berlioz, under the initial “Y,” showing how utterly out of sympathy the two young men were, and how incapable at that time Mendelssohn was of reciprocating Berlioz’s whole-hearted appreciation.

Later on, when they met in Leipzig, the situation improved.

[11] It was Diano Marina, near Oneglia.

[12] Gave popular concerts of dance-music and introduced the galop.

[13] It was really written by Léon de Wailly: Alfred de Vigny merely revised it.

[14] In 1848.

[15] Liszt afterwards mounted it successfully at Weimar.

[16] Since writing this, I conducted the first four parts of it in London and never did I have a more brilliant reception, nor was I better received by the press. (In a letter to Ferrand he says: “I am quite pleased with my success. _Romeo and Juliet_ made people cry. I cannot go into the details of my three concerts, but I may say that the new score made some notable conversions. An Englishman bought my baton from Schlesinger’s servant for 150 francs. The press has treated me splendidly.”)

[17] Mademoiselle Recio.

[18] I had not then heard the _Midsummer Night’s Dream_.

[19] Composed in 1834.

[20] Ferrand was in Sardinia.

[21] My intimate friend, now director of the Marseilles Conservatoire.

[22] [It is an extraordinary thing that the end never _is_ audible; applause always begins too soon and the curious and most effective treatment of the final chords is lost.]

[23] _Jerusalem_, given in Paris in November.

[24] Alas, I succumbed! My five-act opera _The Trojans_ is the result.

[25] Madame Berlioz.

[26] In a letter to Ferrand, Berlioz gives his reason, which was that Madame Viardot’s failing voice made too many cuts and alterations necessary, thereby changing the whole form of the opera. However, to please Count Walewski he consented to be present at some of the rehearsals and help with his advice.

[27] Announcing Madame Berlioz’ death at St Germain-en-Laye.

[28] [It was actually accepted. See letter to Ferrand.]

[29] [This is unjust to Carvalho, who risked much and really had not the wherewithal to comply with his exacting colleague’s demands.]

[30] Berlioz had been Companion since 1839.

[31] An untranslateable pun. _On vous demande comment vous avez passé la nuit jamais comment vous passez l’ennui._

[32] Written on his visit to Madame Fournier.

[33] Steinway.

[34] The last letter.

[35] Or “on.” Berlioz’ phrase admits of either interpretation.