CHAPTER IX.

PROPOSAL FOR AN OPERATIC UNION--TITIENS IN DUBLIN--HER SERVICES AS A PACIFICATOR--AUTUMN SEASON AT COVENT GARDEN--THE COMBINATION SEASON--IMMENSE SUCCESS--COSTA'S DESPOTISM--AN OPERATIC CONSPIRACY--LUCCA AND HER HUSBANDS.

DURING my successful Drury Lane season, in the month of June, 1868, a letter addressed to me was left by an unknown person in the hall. The superscription on the envelope was in a disguised hand, but the letter enclosed was in the writing of Mr. Gye.

The manager of the Royal Italian Opera proposed a coalition with the manager of Her Majesty's Theatre, and Mr. Gye suggested a personal interview on the subject. Here, however, is his letter:--

[COPY.] "Springfield House, "Wandsworth Road, "June 19th, 1868.

"DEAR MR. MAPLESON,

"The last time you were over here I believe we were pretty well agreed that our interests lay rather in the combination of the two operas than in fighting one another. As we shall both of us be making our engagements for the next year, if anything is to be arranged between us it is time it were thought about. I should be very glad to see you on the subject if you still remain in the same mind as when I saw you last. It would perhaps be well if we did not meet either at Drury Lane or at Covent Garden. Would you mind coming over here, or would you prefer our meeting somewhere in town? This matter, for obvious reasons, had better remain strictly _between ourselves_ for the present.

"Yours very truly, "(Signed) FREDERICK GYE. "James Mapleson, Esq."

* * * * *

When I met Mr. Gye by appointment his first proposition was that we should work together at either of the two theatres, the other one being kept closed; and that I should take a quarter of the profits.

I suggested, as a more equitable adjustment, an equal division of profits; and to that Mr. Gye at last agreed.

Articles of partnership were then drawn up binding us to remain together for three years on the basis of half profits, and our agreement was to be kept secret for the next six months.

At the close of my engagement at Dublin, in the beginning of October, 1868, a great demonstration took place in honour of Mdlle. Titiens, it being the last night of the season. Weber's opera of _Oberon_ was performed, and after Titiens had sung the exacting air of the third act, "Ocean, thou Mighty Monster," a most animated scene took place, many requiring the great air to be repeated, whilst others called out the names of different Irish songs. The uproar lasted upwards of fifteen minutes before silence could be restored, when it was decided that "The Last Rose of Summer" should be given.

But the orchestra had no music and the conductor would not venture a performance without it. Further delay and further uproar took place, until at length Signor Bettini, who had undertaken the _rôle_ of "Oberon," came from the wing, pulling on a cottage piano, whilst Titiens helped the conductor to get out of the orchestra in order to accompany her. As Bettini was turning the piano round, in consequence of the slope of the stage it fell right over, causing an immense cheer from the gods, when no less than five demons (who were to appear in the next scene of _Oberon_) rushed from the wings to raise it up again on its legs. At length order was restored, and such was the silence that when Mdlle. Titiens was on the point of beginning the beautiful air I remember taking a pin from my collar and dropping it on the stage in order to give a practical and effective illustration of the old saying that you "could hear a pin drop."

No sooner had the singer finished the last verse than a roar of admiration was heard, so loud, so overpowering, that I can only compare it to the belching forth of huge pieces of artillery. At the close of the opera a great crowd, composed of the public and the medical students who habitually occupy the gallery (always without their coats, sometimes without their waistcoats, occasionally without their shirts), was awaiting the Queen of Song's departure. They had actually cut the traces of her carriage, and from a ship chandler's opposite had got two long coils of rope which they fastened to the vehicle. Titiens shortly afterwards appeared, amidst deafening cheers, and the procession started. No less than a dozen of the singer's most enthusiastic admirers were on the roof letting off fireworks. All went on in something like order until with our two long strings of volunteer horses we arrived at Dawson Street, when, in consequence of no previous arrangement having been made, one half of the team went up Dawson Street and the other half down Nassau Street, the result being a violent collision against Morrison's Hotel. It was not without considerable difficulty and delay that things could be readjusted.

On our arriving at Shelbourne Hotel the police found themselves powerless to cope with the multitude. But we had been accompanied by a young man, who, standing on the carriage step, had repeatedly addressed Mdlle. Titiens both in German and in French, telling her that she had "nothing to fear." On arriving at the door of the Shelbourne he gave a shrill whistle as a call for volunteer special constables, when a passage was at once cleared. It being a wet night the enthusiasts around us made a carpet for Titiens to walk on by throwing their coats on to the pavement. The crowd remained opposite the hotel for over an hour, during which time repeated calls were made for a song. But the gas of Mdlle. Titiens's sitting-room had been turned low, and the blinds being drawn down she hoped it might appear that she had retired for the night.

Shortly afterwards, however, a deputation came up accompanied by one of the chief constables, stating that if madame could not disperse the crowd the consequences would be very serious, as it refused to move. She at last felt compelled to go to the window of her hotel, when, after entreating for silence, she addressed the crowd in these words: "I will sing you 'The Last Rose of Summer' provided you promise to go home immediately afterwards like mice."

And sure enough they did, for at the conclusion of the song the crowd melted away in dead silence, not one person being left.

The inspector afterwards remarked to Mdlle. Titiens that if ever a revolution broke out in Ireland they would send over for her to quell it.

During the stay of my Opera Company at Dublin I allowed some of the principal artists to sing in various churches for charitable purposes. Mdlle. Titiens's services were sought for far and wide, and she was always ready to devote her Sunday, which was the only day of rest she had during the week, to the cause of charity. On one occasion I recollect her singing in a poor neighbourhood near Thomas Street, when many persons actually stooped to kiss the ground where she had trodden. She was held in the highest esteem by the clergy.

One Saturday evening, after the termination of the opera, several of my Italian choristers were wending their way home when they were accosted by some rowdy, good-natured Irishmen, who insisted upon having a drink with them. They, not comprehending the language, thought the men were robbers, and placed themselves in a position of defence, whereupon they were boldly attacked by the sons of Erin, and a free fight ensued, in which some two or three Irishmen got stabbed. About noon the following day it was notified to me that some four or five of my choristers were in prison on account of this serious affair, and would be kept there until the wounded men, who were then in hospital, were sufficiently recovered to appear against them. I at once sought Mdlle. Titiens's aid, who went with me to one of the priests, with whom we afterwards visited the prison where our choristers were. They insisted that it was only a small affair, and that they had defended themselves against their aggressors.

They seemed also in great distress because the police authorities had taken away their week's salary which they had in their pockets, together with such pieces of jewellery or keys they had about them. By the advice of the priest we afterwards visited the hospital, and I, accompanied by the surgeon, inspected their wounds, which were triangular, as if caused by an Italian stiletto.

My clerical friend was very kind, and after a deal of whispering with the hospital surgeons, and afterwards with the wounded men themselves, he stated that they might have done it in accidentally falling down, but that it was not their intention to appear against the choristers, who were afterwards bailed out by Mdlle. Titiens. They duly appeared the next morning at the police-court and were dismissed, no one appearing against them.

I omitted to inform the reader that on the conclusion of the partnership agreement with Mr. Gye, which was to be kept a secret for the next six months, I rented the Royal Italian Opera for the autumn of 1868 for this double reason: first, that Her Majesty's Theatre was in ashes, and that I had no place wherein to give my autumn performances; and secondly, that my being seen about Covent Garden would in that case cause no surprise, whilst it would enable me occasionally to meet Mr. Gye in order to discuss our coming arrangements.

During my autumn season at Covent Garden I discovered Mdlle. Scalchi, the eminent contralto--then singing at a building which had been a circus. Struck with the lovely quality of her voice I engaged her for five years, events fully confirming my judgment on that occasion. About this time I first brought to this country Miss Minnie Hauk, a young singer about 18 years of age. She made her _début_ at Covent Garden as "Amina" in _La Sonnambula_, her next part being that of "Cherubino" in Mozart's _Nozze di Figaro_.

After due discussion with Mr. Gye it was decided that our joint enterprise should be carried on at the Royal Italian Opera pending the rebuilding of my new theatre.

As the time for opening the season approached Mr. Gye suggested that we should ourselves make all engagements with the orchestra, instead of leaving that duty, as heretofore at the Royal Italian Opera, to Mr. Costa. This famous conductor was a despot, not only in the musical direction of his orchestra, but in other ways. He made his own engagements, and, leaving, of course, the manager to pay the appointed salaries, took care to be always present on pay day; when, in the case of any short-coming on the part of a musician, he would stop a portion of the salary payable to him, if not the whole amount. It was his custom to arrive at the theatre half-an-hour before the time fixed for the beginning of the evening's performance. He then took up a position as if of inspection, and, as he sat on the stage, the players passed him one by one as if in order of review. I remember on one occasion a young violinist arriving with mud on his boots, and in a frock coat. Costa pulled him up short, and asked him how he could venture to present himself in such a condition. The musician replied that he had just arrived from the Crystal Palace, and had not had time to make his toilet.

"Go home instantly," said Costa, "and come back with clean boots and in evening dress."

By the time the violinist (who lived in some distant suburb) got back the second act of the opera was nearly over; and when on pay-day the offender presented himself for his monthly salary he was informed that by reason of his absence on the occasion in question one week's salary was stopped. This sort of treatment the musicians had to put up with, or, as the only alternative, to accept their dismissal, which really meant the loss of the provincial festivals and of the Sacred Harmonic Society.

It must be added in favour of Costa's despotic ways that he never allowed any musician that he had engaged to be replaced by a substitute, even at rehearsal; a practice which in orchestras less severely governed has become only too frequent, to the great detriment of the performances.

Costa, meanwhile, by mere force of will, had gained so much authority at the Royal Italian Opera that the manager feared him, and was most anxious to be rid alike of his services and of his tyranny.

When it was intimated to Costa that the joint managers proposed to reserve to themselves the right of making direct engagements with the musicians for the orchestra, he would not hear of such an arrangement, and, much to Mr. Gye's satisfaction, resigned his post.

In view of the new works we proposed to give, and of the large number of rehearsals that would be required, two conductors were now engaged, Arditi and Vianesi.

Long before the theatre opened we had abundant signs of a prosperous season, and as the event drew near money poured in from various sources. We received in private subscriptions as much as £12,000. The booksellers' subscriptions amounted to £29,000 more, and in the course of the season the box-office sales alone brought in another £29,000. Altogether, counting profits from the Floral Hall concerts and sums received for the services of singers at public as well as private concerts, we received during the season of 1869 a grand total of £80,000.

On the other hand, we paid away in artists' salaries £22,000; for working expenses (including chorus), £13,000; orchestra, £7,500; sundry charges, £2,000.

Our whole expenditure came to £44,000, leaving us a clear profit of about £36,000.

Out of my half-share of this profit I had to pay for insurance and poor rates £3,000. Against this Mr. Gye put the use of the theatre, which was his property.

By our articles of partnership Mr. Gye had stipulated that he should "take no part in the management of the theatre unless he wished to do so." This wish came upon him after about a fortnight.

Our success during this season proved that though two rival Italian Operas can scarcely be carried on without loss on both sides, one Italian Opera can be made the source of very considerable profit. Even, however, with a monopoly there are two things essential to success. The operatic manager who would prosper must appeal to the public with a very strong Company, and with new works. Such casts as we secured for some of the recognized masterpieces of dramatic music could not fail to fill the theatre.

Among the new works or revivals produced at the Royal Italian Opera during the season of 1869 may be mentioned: Fidelio, The Magic Flute, Robert le Diable, Cherubini's Medea, Hamlet (first time in England), with Nilsson as "Ophelia," and Don Bucefalo (also first time in England). Medea had before been given at my own establishment with Mdlle. Titiens in the tragic part of the heroine. In Le Prophète, Titiens and Mongini appeared together, Titiens, of course, as "Fidès," Mongini as "John of Leyden." Don Giovanni was played with Titiens as "Donna Anna," Nilsson as "Donna Elvira," and Patti as "Zerlina;" while the part of the dissolute hero was taken by Faure, and that of "Don Ottavio" by Mario.

About this time the secret oozed out that Mr. Jarrett, who had come with me from Her Majesty's Theatre to the Royal Italian Opera, had made engagements with Mongini, Ilma de Murska, Trebelli, Christine Nilsson, Santley, Foli, Faure, and Arditi. Mr. Jarrett, who in after years became known as the agent of Mdme. Nilsson, and especially of Mdlle. Sarah Bernhardt, held at that time a post with vague duties attached to it at the Royal Italian Opera, as previously at Her Majesty's Theatre, which during the combination season of 1869 was being rebuilt. Jarrett also acted as agent to Mongini, Ilma de Murska, Trebelli, and Bettini--Mdme. Trebelli's husband. Many years before he had been in partnership with Mr. George Wood, representing the firm of Cramer and Co., the well-known music publishers, for the direction of an Opera Company, and had been left by his associate in the lurch, Mr. Jarrett being called upon to meet single-handed liabilities which would have been far too much even for the partners combined.

Nor was Jarrett particularly well disposed towards the manager of the Royal Italian Opera, in whose orchestra he had once played the horn, and who in one of those orchestral strikes so common in the history of Opera-houses had taken a leading part as against the manager. Mr. Gye had thereupon dismissed him; and he now objected to have in his employment an agent receiving percentage on the salaries of his singers.

If, then, in the opposition he proposed to organize against the Royal Italian Opera Jarrett injured Mr. Gye, he would not be sorry; while if as a result of a failure at Drury Lane he injured Mr. Wood, he would be very glad. Naturally, however, he worked chiefly with a view to his own success.

Whether Wood mistrusted Jarrett, or whether after entering into partnership with him he mistrusted the success of the project, can never be decided; but it is certain that after securing Drury Lane Theatre for an operatic campaign, Mr. Wood repented of what he had done, and, unknown to Jarrett, entered into negotiations with Mr. Gye.

The advantages of an operatic monopoly were too obvious for Mr. Gye not to be anxious once more to secure it. This he was prepared to do, even at a considerable sacrifice; only it was I, his associate, not he himself, who was to make it. He proposed to me that Mr. George Wood should be taken into partnership, and that the profits for the season should be thus divided: Half to Gye, one quarter to Mapleson, one quarter to Wood. Mr. Gye was ready at that time to take in any number of partners who seemed in a position to threaten his justly-cherished monopoly, provided always that their share in the profits came to them out of my half, not out of his. For me the smallest fraction was deemed sufficient; he himself, however, could accept nothing less than a clear moiety.

After some amusing negotiations between Mr. Gye and myself, it was arranged that Mr. Wood should be taken into the concern on a basis of equal shares. Each, that is to say, was to receive one-third of the profits. The seceding artists, whose services we could not wish to lose--apart from the effect they might have in creating against us a formidable opposition--had all signed with Mr. Wood; and by the new arrangement these vocalists (Christine Nilsson, Mongini, Ilma de Murska, Trebelli, Faure, Santley, etc., with Arditi) were all to form part of the Royal Italian Opera Company. Our profits would still be large, though both Gye and myself would have to cede a portion of our gains to the new-comer.

Mr. Gye, Mr. Wood, and myself were all seated round a table in Mr. Gye's private room at Covent Garden Theatre, on the point of signing the contract which was to bind us together for the season of 1870, when suddenly a gentle tap at the door was heard, and, like "Edgardo" in the contract scene of _Lucia_, Jarrett appeared. He had, as he afterwards informed me, entirely lost sight of Mr. Wood, who was supposed to be out of town, gone abroad, anywhere except in London; whence, however, he had not stirred. Jarrett had not traced his slippery partner to the Royal Italian Opera. He assured me that having no indications whatever to act upon he had come there guided simply by instinct. He was a man whose instinct seldom misled him.

While Mr. Gye and myself were a little surprised at the sudden apparition, Mr. Wood was lost in confusion. Jarrett meanwhile was absolutely calm. Standing at the door, he took a pinch of snuff, and for a few moments remained silent. Then, addressing his partner, he simply said: "Mr. Wood, can I have a minute's conversation with you outside?" Mr. Wood rose, and left the room, but returned in less than a minute, when Gye whispered to me: "It is all right; he is sure to sign." But when he was asked to put his name to the document which only awaited his signature to constitute a perfect contract between him, Gye, and myself, he hesitated, spoke of the necessity in which he found himself of first consulting his friends, and finally did not sign.

The conversation which had taken place outside the room, as it was afterwards repeated to me by Jarrett, was short and simple.

"The singers you have engaged," said Jarrett, "are under contract to sing at Drury Lane, and nowhere else. If, then, you join Mapleson and Gye they will not come to you at Covent Garden, and you will have to pay their salaries whether you open at Drury Lane or not."

Wood could only reply that he would not sign with Mapleson and Gye.

There was no money made that season at the Royal Italian Opera; whilst Mr. Wood's season at Drury Lane was simply disastrous. The moneyed partner soon proposed to shut up; but Jarrett, to whom Mr. Wood was bound, would not hear of this.

"I have no more money," said Wood.

"But you have a number of pianofortes," replied Jarrett. "You have music shops here and in Scotland whose contents and goodwill can be sold."

"You wish to ruin me?" asked Wood.

"You did not mind ruining me in 1854," answered Jarrett, "when we carried on Opera together and you left me to bear the burden of your losses."

It is bad enough for a manager to lose money, hoping night after night that by some new and successful stroke, or some change of taste on the part of the capricious public, the tide of luck may at last turn in his favour. But Mr. Wood had no such sanguine delusions to maintain him in his adversity; his losses were irretrievable. They increased as the season went on without any chance of being even arrested; and in the end anyone but a man of Mr. Wood's indomitable energy and courage would have been ruined beyond hope of recovery.

During the Wood season at Drury Lane many interesting performances were given, including Wagner's _Flying Dutchman_, with Ilma de Murska as the heroine and Santley as the hero; _Mignon_, with Mdme. Christine Nilsson; also Weber's _Abu Hassan_, each for the first time in England. But the enterprise could not stand against the superior attractions of the Royal Italian Opera, while the Royal Italian Opera, on its side, suffered in its receipts from the counter attraction presented by Drury Lane.

Towards the end of the season, war having been declared between France and Germany, Mdme. Pauline Lucca became anxious about her husband, who was an officer in a Prussian cavalry regiment, and now under campaigning orders. She was anxious, therefore, to see him before his departure with the army moving towards the French frontier. Some weeks afterwards, at the battle of Mars la Tour, a portion of the Prussian cavalry was sacrificed in order to hold in check the French, who were seeking to leave Metz in order to march towards Paris. Mdme. Lucca's husband, Baron von Rhaden, was dangerously wounded in the charge; and the Baroness received special permission to visit him in the field hospital, where he was lying, outside Metz. Another officer of the same regiment, also wounded, came in for a good share of her attentions; and afterwards, being at that time in the United States, she applied in the New York Courts for a divorce from Baron von Rhaden in order to marry Baron von Wallhofen, the officer, who--as just mentioned--had, like Von Rhaden, been severely wounded at Mars la Tour. The New York Tribunal granted the divorce on Mdme. Lucca's simple affidavit; and before her husband (No. 1) had had time to reply by a counter affidavit from Berlin the second marriage had been celebrated. Such being the case the decree of divorce, so hastily pronounced, could not well be interfered with. So, at least, said the judges to whom the matter was referred; and Mdme. Pauline Lucca remained as she is now, Baroness von Wallhofen.