Part 16 (1/2)

The work was translated into various languages, and thereby gained a world-wide reputation. The 'Traite' was acknowledged on all sides to be invaluable, and it laid the foundations of all important subsequent investigations into the emission of the voice.

As to Garcia's treatment of his pupils, he exhibited ever the most untiring patience. The infinite pains he took with them never failed to win their affection as well as their admiration, and this undoubtedly contributed in some considerable degree to the progress which they made under his care. A story has been told by Jourdan, which gives a good ill.u.s.tration of the great master's care of his pupils.

One day, being upset and ruffled at some remarks made upon his singing by the maestro, Jourdan left the cla.s.s in a temper, and did not return for the next lesson. Garcia, noticing his absence, went to his lodging, a small room on the fifth floor, and took the young student by the ear, saying, ”Come along, _mechant garcon_, come and have your lesson.”

And now we come to 1848, the year in which Manuel Garcia terminated his residence in Paris.

He did so in consequence of the Revolution, which flared up on February 24, and finally resulted in the flight of Louis Philippe. It was during these disturbances that the maestro was sought out by Julius Stockhausen, a lad of twenty-two, who was eventually to become one of Germany's greatest teachers and singers. Of this period Herr Stockhausen sent me some reminiscences, and in reproducing them there is a pathetic interest, owing to the fact that two days after their arrival from Germany the lieder-singer pa.s.sed away in his eighty-first year.

”I first made the acquaintance of the maestro,” writes Herr Stockhausen, ”in 1848. The year had begun with much unrest, and on February 24 the Revolution broke out. Owing to the absence of the friend under whose roof I was residing at the time, I was obliged to enter the National Guard as a subst.i.tute. As such I presented myself before the maestro in full uniform. He received me very kindly, for a relation of mine, Frau Reiter, who had already been studying with him, had spoken a few words of recommendation on my behalf.

”What struck me most at the first meeting were the steadiness of his glance, the swiftness of his movement, and the rhythm of his tread. He was a man of middle age--forty-three years old, his manner alert, his voice possessing a friendly ring. When I timidly inquired his terms he replied, 'Combien voulez-vous me donner? je n'ai plus d'eleves; ils ont tous fui la revolution.' But, honoured master, you have just been trying a tenor who has a powerful voice.

'True; but he has no ear,' replied Garcia. 'When I asked him what his occupation was, he replied, 'Je suis tourneur.' 'Eh bien,' I answered, 'tournez, tournez encore; pas d'oreille, pas de chanteur!'

”My position as a member of the National Guard and a son of artistic parents seemed to interest the maestro, and he asked me only ten francs a lesson. After a few days studies were commenced, and I used to attend in my regimentals. Unhappily, however, the hards.h.i.+ps of bivouacking on those cold winter nights proved very pernicious for my young voice, so that after a few weeks I found myself obliged to cease lessons temporarily. For six weeks I struggled against catarrh and sore throat; but at the beginning of May there came a happy change.

”On the 26th of the same month I received an invitation from Basle to sing in Mendelssohn's 'Elijah.' Garcia raised no objections to my attempting the task, and went through the difficult pa.s.sages with me very carefully, showing me further how I might commit the t.i.tle-_role_ to memory in a short time without overtiring the voice. When in due course I sang the Elijah in Basle, the audience had no idea how my voice had suffered during those weeks of military hards.h.i.+p and discipline in Paris.”

Such is the characteristic description which Julius Stockhausen gave of his first months under Garcia.

CHAPTER XII.

CLOSE OF PARIS CAREER.

(1848.)

The first revolution of 1848 broke out in February. The grand Reform banquet which had been announced was suddenly prohibited on the 21st of the month, the immediate consequence being that revolutionary tumults burst out, and the next day brought with it the impeachment and resignation of Guizot. This was quickly followed by the throwing up of barricades in the streets; the Tuileries were ransacked, the prisons opened, and the most frightful disorders committed. At this Louis Philippe completely lost his nerve, and abdicated on the 24th in favour of his infant grandson, the Comte de Paris, who was not, however, accepted by the populace. Upon this the royal family and ministers made their escape as best they could, and a week later the ex-king landed at Newhaven as ”Mr Smith.”

On February 26 a republic was proclaimed from the steps of the Hotel de Ville; and this decisive measure was followed by a grand funeral procession in honour of the victims of the revolution.

The next three months pa.s.sed by in comparative quiet. The provisional government, which had been formed in the great public commotion, resigned to an executive commission, elected by the National a.s.sembly of the French Republic, and the perpetual banishment of Louis Philippe and his family was decreed.

With June there came an outburst of still more frightful disorder, owing to the reconst.i.tution of the National Guard of France, it being enlarged from 80,000 to 100,000. Among those who enrolled themselves in this body of men was Manuel Garcia; and it is not surprising that he did so, for, as all who knew him are well aware, he was a great lover of law and order.

The precautionary measure acted as a lighted fuse to a barrel of gunpowder. On June 23 the red republicans rose up in arms against the troops and the National Guard, more than three hundred barricades were thrown up, and firing continued in all parts of the capital during the night. Garcia well remembered George Sand standing on the top of a barricade surrounded by a band of students, and shouting down to him, ”N'est-ce pas que c'est magnifique, n'est ce pas que c'est beau!”

Next day the troops under Cardignac and Lamoriciere, after suffering immense loss, drove the insurgents from the left bank of the Seine. On the 25th Paris was declared in a state of siege, while on the following day the Faubourg du Temple was carried with cannon, the insurgents surrendered, and the revolution was brought to an end.

But at what a cost had peace been restored! The national losses caused by the outbreak were estimated at thirty million francs; while during the four days of fighting no less than sixteen thousand persons were killed and wounded, among the former being the Archbishop of Paris, who lost his life while tending the dying on the final day of conflict.

But for all its excitement and bloodshed this four days' revolution failed to excite much enthusiasm in the maestro. Perhaps it seemed poor fun after those scenes of the Napoleonic Invasion and the successive campaigns of the Peninsular War, which he remembered from his childhood.

He may even have grown weary of such scenes, and considered the whole affair badly managed after the other revolutions he had been through.

Certainly there had been much less fuss when, eighteen years before, he had seen Charles X. driven out and Louis Philippe made king. He had pa.s.sed through too many excitements already.

One can almost imagine the scene that must have taken place in the July of 1846, when he was informed by a breathless pupil at the beginning of a lesson that an attempt had just been made on the king's life by Henri.

One can picture him shaking his head reprovingly and replying, ”Yes; but it was not as exciting as some of the other attempts on his life that I remember. Let me see, it must have been--yes, it was in the July of 1835, almost exactly thirteen years ago to the day, that the first one took place. Now that really _was_ a fine one! Fieschi fired an infernal machine as the king was riding down the Boulevard du Temple along the lines of the National Guard. Louis Philippe was accompanied by his three sons. They all four escaped, but the Duke of Treviso was shot dead, and forty persons were killed and wounded. Now that's what I call something _like_ an attempt!

”Then, next year, there was Louis Alibaud, who fired at the king on his way to the Tuileries. _Pauvre garcon!_ He was guillotined for his trouble.