When the day fixed for the departure of the young musician arrived, the guide went to the house of Grétry’s parents. His coming might be likened to the appearance of a spectre to this poor couple, so deeply affected were they by the departure of their child. Without a word the little fellow laid hold of his valise and strapped it on his back; then knelt down with his hands clasped before his father and mother and asked their blessing. “God bless thee, dear child!” were the simple words pronounced by the broken-hearted parents, and then the traveller disappeared with his guide.
The son was not less moved than his father and mother, whose kindly faces were bathed in tears and wore the ashy hue of death. “As soon as I was able to think calmly,” writes the musician, “I felt tears trickling down my cheeks, and I said: ‘O God, grant that thy poor creature may one day become the support and consolation of his unfortunate parents!’” How touching is this simple scene, how eloquently does it speak in favor of this patriarchal household which Grétry, by his genius, has made illustrious; and how strongly are our sympathies moved by the immortality earned for it by this most sensible of sons!
The brave youth, who was accompanied by a young surgeon, walked regularly ten leagues a day with his knapsack upon his back. Those were hard day’s marches. At Trèves the two young men began to fear that they would not be able to go any farther, but their energetic determination gave them strength, and they continued their journey, still at the rate of ten leagues a day. They passed through the Tyrol, singing the while, and braved the dangers of the avalanches, and a few days later stood in rapt admiration of the beautiful land of the Milanese. They afterward visited the artistic curiosities of Florence. Every part of Italy was in their eyes an enchanted region. At last Grétry saluted the Eternal City, which he entered by the Porta del Popolo. He had ample time to make himself thoroughly familiar with Rome and to carefully study the works of the Italian masters, then so greatly renowned; for he remained at least nine years in Italy. Here he made his early efforts in sacred and in theatrical music, but without achieving any brilliant success. He was then feeling his way, and did not as yet know for what particular style of music he was best fitted. Chance, however, brought to his notice a comic opera by Monsigny, and he at once felt that his true vocation was the music best suited to comedy. But as Paris was the only field which offered him the means of making himself known to advantage in this branch of musical art, he resolved to settle in the French capital.
In this biography of Grétry it would be unjust to omit the name of the Swedish Envoy, the Comte de Creutz, who raised the musician’s hopes and helped him to continue his struggle at times when he felt greatly depressed. M. de Creutz had divined the degree of genius exhibited in the early attempts of our musician, although they had not been publicly successful, and it is fitting that his name should be mentioned in connection with the successes of his illustrious protégé. Grétry never lost an opportunity of testifying his deep gratitude to M. de Creutz.
When, after his long sojourn in Italy, the composer was guided by his lucky star to settle in Paris, he had neither harpsichord nor pianoforte, and it appears that for some time he pursued his studies without having one of these instruments which are of the first necessity for a composer. It was upon a clavichord lent him by M. Louet that the composer wrote: “Les Mariages Samnites,” “Lucile,” “Le Huron,” “Le Tableau Parlant,” “Le Sphinx,” “Les Deux Avares,” “L’Amitié à l’Epreuve,” and “Zemire et Azor.”
In the clavichord, which was the predecessor of the spinet, brass rods are used instead of pen nibs to make the chords vibrate. Grétry’s clavichord, which may be found in the interesting collection of the Instrumental Museum at the Paris Conservatoire, possesses only four octaves and two notes, as was usually the case with the clavichords of the seventeenth century. We asked permission of M. Pillaut, the learned conservator of the Instrumental Museum, to take a photograph of this clavichord, which is not only highly interesting in itself, but because it was the faithful confidant of the master’s inspiration. M. Pillaut gave the permission asked, and we think it right to tender him our thanks.
GRETRY’S CLAVICHORD AT THE INSTRUMENTAL MUSEUM AT THE PARIS CONSERVATOIRE.
From a photograph made by special permission.
Grétry passed the last years of his life at Montmorency, near Paris, in a house called the Hermitage, where the celebrated writer Jean Jacques Rousseau lived for some time and died. Here, retired from the world, Grétry received his faithful friends of the last days, notably D’Alayrac and Boieldieu, who lived in a cottage near the Hermitage. The old master loved to talk about his art to those who succeeded him in the career, and he lavished upon them the precious counsels of his experience. It was in acknowledgment of this great service that Boieldieu dedicated to Grétry his charming Opera-Comique, “Jean de Paris.” During the latter part of his life Grétry composed nothing, and after the death of his wife, which occurred March 17, 1807, he very rarely visited the theatre. In 1812 Grétry partially rewrote his score of Elisa, which was his last bit of composition. On Sept. 12, 1813, feeling very ill, he wrote the following letter to M. Le Breton, life secretary of the department of Fine Arts at the Institute:—
“My dear colleague: It is impossible for me to be present at the Institute for the judgment of the musical prize. On arriving at the Hermitage, still convalescent, I was attacked with a hemorrhage which lasted three days, and from which I lost a pint and a half of blood, leaving me extremely weak. I now await the end of my long sufferings. I am resigned, but in leaving this life, I feel that one of my keenest regrets will be never again to meet my dear colleagues whom I love no less than I honor them. I pray you to let them see this letter. Adieu, my dear colleague; I embrace you with all my heart.