APRIL, 1833.
MEMOIR OF M. HEROLD.
(From La Revue Musicale.)
THIRTY years ago the French school was rich in composers of remarkable merit; Mehul, Lesuer, Berton, Devienne, Della-Maria, Kreutzer, Catel, Boïeldieu, Gaveaux, produced numerous compositions, and the reputation of their success redounded to the honour of their country. Since then death has cut off some of these artists in their youth, others in the very vigour of their talents, while the muses of others again have sunk into silence. It was a grievous loss when an individual of such a party was consigned to the tomb; but there was consolation in contemplating the survivors. What a difference now! How deep must be our regret when we see one of the most celebrated musicians of the day ravished from us by a premature death! Herold is gone—I look around and can only indulge in the hope of something that futurity may bring forth; one, and one only, of his compeers is left to us.
Louis James Ferdinand Herold was born in Paris, the 28th of November, 1791. His father, who was a pianist of some merit, and a respected professor, notwithstanding the early and decided proofs of a musical genius which the son evinced, had no intention of bringing him up to the profession. At ten years old he was placed at one of the best boarding-schools of the time, where he made a brilliant progress in his general studies, which had afterwards no doubt its effect on his career as an artist. The author of this notice, at that time a scholar of the Conservatorio, resided in the some house as teacher of the solfeggio. Herold, as well as his fellow pupils, attended the lessons, but his progress was much more rapid than that of any of the other scholars; nature had made him a musician; he learned, or rather seemed intuitively to imbibe, the principles of the art as a matter almost of play, without appearing to suspect his own strong determination towards it.
The early death of his father made a sudden change in young Herold’s destination in life and in his studies, music being by that circumstance rendered his profession. Already a good musician, he entered the Conservatoire in October, 1806, as a student of the piano-forte in the class of M. Adam. His hands were well formed for the instrument he had selected; the lessons of the able master who directed his studies so made him a distinguished performer. Under the instructions of Catel, he prosecuted with success the study of harmony, and placed himself under Mehul to learn the art of expressing on paper the musical ideas which already began to present themselves to his imagination. The lessons of this great artist, and, perhaps, still more his conversation, always piquant, and full of ingenious and acute reasoning, had the most happy effect in developing the faculties of young Herold: his progress was that of a man born to be an artist; one year and a half’s study qualified him to enter into competition for, and obtain also the grand prize for composition given by the institute in August, 1812. The cantata which he composed for this occasion (Madame la Valliere) does not perhaps quite indicate the exalted talent he was destined one day to exhibit; but it cannot be denied that it contained sufficient proofs of a very happy disposition for his art.
In November of the same year, Herold set off for Rome as a pensioned student of the government. Most of the scholars who are fortunate enough to obtain that great object of their ambition, the first prize in composition, still look upon the time which the rules of the institute oblige them to pass in Italy, and particularly at Rome, as little better than a kind of exile. This was not the case with Herold; he had long sighed after Italy, the country which seemed in his imagination to teem with musical inspirations. Often has he declared that the time he passed in the capital of the Christian world formed the happiest epoch of his life. After three years of labour and study he quitted this classic land of antiquity, and went to Naples: here he appeared to live quite another life. The cloudless sky, the pure, vivifying, and elastic air, the beauty of the views, the natural enthusiasm of the natives, all conspired to work him up to that feverish anxiety to compose which is no where else felt with a like intensity. He was tormented with a wish to write for the theatre, and it was not long before the opportunity of gratifying his wish occurred. Soon after his arrival in Naples, he succeeded in bringing out an opera in two acts, entitled ‘La Groventù di Enrico quinto.’ Herold has not suffered the music of this piece to be seen by his own countrymen; all that is known of it is, that the Neapolitans found it to their taste, and that it was performed several nights with undisputed success. This is the more remarkable, as at the time Herold thus brought out his opera, the whole of Italy, and the Neapolitans in particular, had an invincible prejudice against all musicians of the French school. A composer born on the banks of the Seine writing an opera for the Teatro Fondo, and the Neapolitans not only listening to, but applauding his music, was a novelty of which there was no previous example.
M. Herold returned to France towards the end of 1815: he had not been long in Paris before he had an opportunity of trying his force upon the French stage. Boïeldieu, who had observed the germs of a fine composer in the young artist, determined to assist him over this first step, always so difficult to surmount, owing to the bad management of the theatres. He associated him with himself in the composition of a little opera de circonstance, called Charles of France, on which he was then engaged. This opera, which was performed in 1816, introduced Herold to the public in a favourable manner, and in consequence the libretto of Les Rosieres was intrusted to him. A three-act opera will always afford the composer some good opportunities of displaying his powers; Herold availed himself of his opportunities, and produced some morceaux which proved he was no ordinary musician. The inexperience of a young writer was to be traced in the work, but there were seen here and there some flashes of fancy, which showed that the author had been doing violence to himself, in order to bring his writing down to the level of the style to which the frequenters of the Théâtre Feydeau were at that time accustomed. Yet, notwithstanding this kind of wavering uncertainty of manner, which is to be found in the score of Les Rosieres, there are no doubt many points in it which deserved more admiration than they received. At the end of 1816, this piece was performed at the Opéra Comique with a success which had its effect on all the future life of the author.
La Clochette, an opera in three acts, followed soon after Les Rosieres. In this opera M. Herold displayed much more passion and dramatic force than in his former production, and it was plainly evident that he had made great progress in the art of writing for the stage. The graceful and piquant little air, ‘Me voilà, me voilà,’ a duet in the second act, and several charming phrases scattered through other parts of the opera, proved that the author had the power of inventing melodies; while the finale of the first act, and several passages in the second and third, show the hand of a dramatic composer of no low class. There were besides in the instrumentation many new effects; but not a little of all this was understood by the audience. The piece was successful indeed; but its success was much more owing to the scenery and spectacle than to the merit of the music.