This musical love-letter was understood, and Miss Smithson afterward married the great composer. But, unfortunately, the romance stopped at this point, and they did not "live happily ever afterward." The actress was forced by an accident to leave the stage permanently. She and her husband did not agree well, and were continually at odds. Finally she took to drink, and a separation soon followed. Berlioz married again, his second wife being the singer, Mlle. Recio. He outlived her, and in later life was taken care of by her mother.
The symphony, incidentally, was so successful at its first performance that a strange-looking man rushed to the platform, saluted the composer, and sent him a more substantial token in the shape of twenty thousand francs. The stranger proved to be Paganini, but that famous violinist was such a miser that the story has been doubted. It is said that he acted in behalf of an unknown benefactor, but his enthusiasm at the performance seems to disprove this, and the work possesses just the dark and sinister character that would appeal to Paganini.
Another composition inspired by the same love episode is the "Romeo and Juliette" Symphony. Berlioz tried to make all his music tell a story, and he believed in the theory that tones could be made to represent ideas in a much greater degree than is usually supposed. The result is shown in many characteristic passages in his works, an excellent example being the gentle and melancholy theme that typifies Childe Harold in the symphony of that name. But Berlioz carried his idea to extremes, and fairly earned the half-reproach of Wagner, who said of him: "He ciphers with notes." That Berlioz could write with more direct beauty is shown by his practical joke at the expense of the critics; for he pretended to unearth an old piece by a certain Pierre Ducré, which they praised greatly in contrast with his own works, and after they had done their worst, Berlioz proved that he himself was the mythical Ducré.
Giuseppe Verdi was another great musician who felt the full richness of domestic happiness, if only for a time. Born in the little hamlet of Le Roncole in 1813, he proved himself possessed of unusual talent, and after a time went to Busseto for lessons. There he came to the notice of M. Barezzi, who became the friend and patron of the young student. The story of his being refused at the Milan Conservatory, and afterward amazing the authorities by his speed in composing fugues, is too well known to need repetition. After his Milan studies, we find him back at Busseto, in love with Barezzi's daughter Margherita. The father, unlike the usual stern parent who repels impecunious musicians, gave his permission for their union, which took place soon after, in 1836.
In a couple of years he settled down in Milan, with his wife and two children. Success began to crown his efforts, and his career of opera composer was well begun, when his domestic happiness came to a complete end. First one child fell sick and died of an unknown malady, then the second followed it in a few days, and within two months the bereaved mother was stricken with a fatal inflammation of the brain. In the midst of all these misfortunes, Verdi was kept at work by a commission for "Un Giorno di Regno," which was to be a comic opera! Little wonder that the wit oozed out of the occasion, and the performance proved a failure. The despondent Verdi resolved to give up his career altogether, and only by the insistence of the manager, Merelli, was he finally persuaded to resume his occupation. In later life he married again, passing a placid existence on his extensive estates.
The domestic career of Richard Wagner has formed the subject for endless discussions. His birth, his early studies, his university career, and his start as a professional musician, all took place in Leipsic. There, too, he met the famous opera singer, Wilhelmine Schroeder-Devrient, whose gifts made such an impression on the young composer. It was the excellence of her acting, as well as her singing, that gave the embryo reformer his first ideas of the intimate union of drama and music that is one phase of his later operatic greatness. Many of his leading rôles were written for her, and as late as 1872 he stated that whenever he conceived a new character he imagined her in the part.
His work as leader took him first to Magdeburg. The failure of his early opera, "Das Liebesverbot," put an end to this enterprise, and soon afterward he appeared as concert leader in Koenigsberg. There he met and married his first wife, Wilhelmina (or Minna) Planer. Their natures were different in many respects. While he displayed many of the vagaries of genius, she was patient and practical, and, if not wholly understanding the highest side of his nature, she gave up her own career to help him through his days of poverty and struggle.
The first venture of the wedded pair was at Riga, where Wagner was engaged for a term to conduct in a new theatre. After this, they took ship for Paris, and the stormy passage gave Wagner many a suggestion for his "Flying Dutchman." It was in the French capital that Minna's domestic qualities were given their most severe trial, for the composer found little or no chance to produce his own works, and was forced to gain a precarious living by the commonest musical drudgery. Probably her constant care and economy were all that turned the scale in favour of success. At length the Dresden authorities became interested in some of the earlier operas, and Wagner was liberated from his dependent position.
The stay in Dresden being cut short by the political troubles of 1848 and 1849, Wagner found a home in Zurich, where his wife soon joined him. There he wrote or sketched the grand works that came to full fruition in his later life. After years of exile, he came back to Germany, where his pursuit of fortune was still in vain, and might have ended in suicide but for the sudden patronage of his royal admirer, the mad King Ludwig of Bavaria. It was at this time that the differences in character began to cause domestic infelicity in the Wagnerian household. Finally the pair separated, and, although he did not leave Minna in want, yet she was compelled to pass the last few years of her life in seclusion and loneliness, while he basked in the favour of royalty, and found the high position that had so long been denied him. It is usually claimed by Wagner's most rabid partisans that she was unable to hold her place in the new surroundings, and that his genius needed a helpmate more in sympathy with his high ideals. Admitting the truth of these assertions, the fair-minded critic must accept them as an explanation, at least, of his conjugal ingratitude, but Minna's faithful performance of duty in the early days will not allow them to stand as a valid excuse.
Wagner's second marriage with Cosima, daughter of Liszt and divorced wife of Von Bülow, resulted happily. The devotion of the new helpmate to the Wagnerian cause has survived the master's death by many years, and is still witnessed by the musical world. The domestic bliss of their married life is well shown in the beautiful Siegfried Idyll, which Wagner composed as a surprise for his wife on their son's birthday.