Reproduction of a portrait in Clément's "Les Musiciens Célèbres."
One danger threatened him, however. Bergamo was under the Austrian domination and he was liable to do military duty. Unless the fear of this could be conjured away, he could not write with a free spirit, nor could he marry the woman he loved, Virginia Vasselli, because her father would not consent so long as his future was in doubt. Strong protestations were addressed to the Austrian ambassador in Rome, Mayer used his best efforts, an additional pretext was found in some slight physical defect, and Donizetti was relieved from the anxious peril. He could now pursue his art untrammeled, could form his domestic life as he desired and could unite himself with sympathetic friends. This independence, added to his natural activity, soon showed its effects in the further production of three operas in that same year, of which two were given in Naples—"La Zingara," a comic opera at the Nuovo, and "La Lettera Anonima," really a musical farce, at the Fondo—and "Chiara e Serafina" or "I Pirati," at the Scala, in Milan.
No sooner was it understood that Donizetti was free and ready to write, than commissions were sent him from all the chief theatres of Italy. Rossini, Bellini, Pacini and Mercadante were all in a certain sense his rivals, and their names were often bulletined with his in the prospectuses of one or another season. But his genius preserved its individuality, and the charm of his music was so great that from this time forward the years were few in which only one or two operas were written by him, while during many twelvemonths he completed four and even five operas. Some of these were short, it is true, limited even to a single act, while others again are chronicled as mere farces in the records of the time; so, too, several seasons passed before he rose beyond the humorous disposition which had showed itself in mimicry and simple buffoonery during his school years and attempted a strictly serious or even a romantic subject.
Therefore, although he was constantly writing for such important houses as the San Carlo, the Nuovo and the Fondo, in Naples; the Valle, in Rome; the Carlo Felice, in Genoa; and later for the Scala and the Carcano, in Milan; the catalogue of these works presents an array of names unfamiliar to any but systematic students of musical literature. There are indications, here and there, that his reading of books was wider than that of some of his contemporaries and that there was springing up in him a preference for historical subjects, as well as that interest in the novels of Walter Scott which ultimately became almost a passion with him. "La Regina de Golconda," "Jeanne di Calais," "Il Castello di Kenilworth," "Francesca di Foix," "Imelda dei Lambertazzi" and "Anna Bolena" are titles which appear between 1828 and 1831, while it is recorded that he composed in 1830 an oratorio about the deluge.
Returning for a moment, it is to be noted that in 1822 he was in Naples, making studies in the Conservatory whose librarian, Sigismondi, objected intensely to the new style which had come in with Rossini, and it was only by some ingenious device that Donizetti obtained the scores he was so anxious to peruse. Wherever he went he was handsomely received and greatly applauded. In 1826 he had special honor from the Queen of Naples, and the celebrated manager Barbaja ordered a number of operas for his various theatres and made him director of the Nuovo for two years. During this period he wrote various isolated airs, eminent among which is a setting of Dante's "Count Ugolino's Lament," written for the basso Lablache. Like other composers of the time, Donizetti may be said to have had no fixed residence. If he had a commission from any city, he established himself there temporarily, to be in close and intelligent relationship with the manager, the artists and the public whom he was to please. It was near the close of 1830 that the first work of his which holds a present place, "Anna Bolena," was sung at the Carcano, having been put in rehearsal within four weeks after its beginning. This was adjudged so great a work that Mayer wrote concerning it that "at last the French had to confess that Italy had another composer beside Rossini." Close upon this serious opera came "L'Elisire d'Amore," which still stands beside Rossini's "Cenerentola," a splendidly gay illustration of the best Italian buffo writing.
In 1833 "Parisina" introduced him to the Pergola, in Florence, and in the autumn of that year Rome received with great satisfaction "Torquato Tasso," which the author dedicated to Bergamo, Sorrento and Rome.
In spite of its fecundity, the genius of Donizetti strengthened with its exercise, and after comparatively brief intervals, occupied with less important works, there appeared those great compositions which will always remain magnificent examplars of Italian opera in the nineteenth century. In 1834, the Scala, despairing because Mercadante, smitten with opthalmia, could not fulfil his engagement, turned to Donizetti, who taking the libretto which Romani had prepared for his friend, completed upon it in twenty-five days, "Lucrezia Borgia," a lyric tragedy which the musicians of all the world know. In 1834 came "Maria Stuarda;" in 1835, "Gemma di Vergy," "Marino Faliero," and the perennially interesting "Lucia di Lammermoor;" in 1836, "Belisario," "Betly" and "L'Assedio di Calais."
In the meantime Donizetti had been going up and down the peninsula, visiting particularly Naples because he had hopes of becoming Zingarelli's successor as professor of counterpoint, for which post his education, severer, and his taste, simpler than Rossini's, seemed to fit him. He had visited Paris in 1833, where "Marino Faliero" had a splendid reception. It was in May, 1837, that the anticipated death of the venerable Zingarelli took place, and Donizetti was named director pro tem. of the Conservatory. In July of this same year his wife died suddenly after fourteen years of happy wedlock. This was a heavy blow for him, and his sorrowing heart found some relief in that pathetic and sombre melody, "Ella è Morta," which he dedicated to her memory. But his engagements left him no time for pure grief and he continued to write, though less frequently, for a couple of years.
