But how was the concert to be got through with only one singer? All parties were placed in a most unpleasant situation. An apology was made, explaining to the thin audience the cause of their disappointment. Signor Tamburini sang two extra Italian arias. M. de Beriot performed a third piece for the violin, which helped to put the audience in good humour. Mr. Willman played a second fantasia on the clarinet, and—and—and so the concert ended.
But while all this was going on, the stewards, it appears, were anxious to make some preparation for the next evening’s performance; and, not thinking it prudent to depend on any assistance from Madame Malibran, despatched a special messenger (who travelled all night) to London, with a carte-blanche to Mrs. Bishop, desiring her, if possible, to come down. Luckily the letter found Mrs. Bishop at home, and, at almost a minute’s notice, she very good-naturedly started, and arrived in time to sing at the second concert. It was fortunate this precaution was taken; for Madame Malibran’s cold and hoarseness continuing, she left Oxford at mid-day on the Wednesday, and returned to London. Mrs. Bishop was warmly greeted on her entering the orchestra. She sang three songs, and an Italian duet with Signor Tamburini, in all of which she acquitted herself admirably. She was (and most deservedly) much applauded. Still, however, the public disappointment was great in not hearing, Madame Malibran; and the concerts, which promised so fairly, and which every one expected would prove most successful, turned out to be a very losing concern. But you know very well, Mr. Editor, that “’tis not in mortals to command success,” and so, sir, I shall bid you adieu, for the present, by signing myself,
Your obliged and obedient servant,
AN OXONIAN.
P.S. Since writing the foregoing, I have been told that the very day before Madame Malibran went to Oxford, she was prevented singing at M. Begrez’ Morning Concert, by a severe cold and hoarseness; and that on the evening of the same day, she literally walked through the part of an opera at Covent Garden Theatre, without speaking one word of the dialogue, or attempting to sing any one of the songs. If it really were so, it may be asked, why did Madame Malibran set out for Oxford? Or, if she would persevere in going, why did she not select some female singer from among her acquaintance to accompany her, and who might, in case of an emergency, be brought forward as her substitute? Should these questions be ever put to Madame Malibran, I hope she will be able to answer them satisfactorily.
CAMBRIDGE COMMENCEMENT.
CAMBRIDGE was more full this commencement than it has been for many years past. The meeting of the BRITISH ASSOCIATION FOR THE ADVANCEMENT OF SCIENCE brought at least 1200 visiters to the University during the last week in June, and the concerts, which followed, tempted many of those to remain, drew several county families into the town, and induced the heads of houses, as well as numerous fellows, to continue in college longer than they would have done under ordinary circumstances.
The Committee for managing the musical performances made their preparations on an extensive and remarkably liberal scale. Among the vocal performers were Mad. Malibran, Mrs. W. Knyvett, Mr. Braham, Mr. Phillips, Mr. W. Knyvett, Mr. Horncastle, and Sig. Tamburini. The instrumentalists included Messrs. De Beriot, Lindley, Dragonetti, Venua, Nicholson, Willman, G. Cooke, Mackintosh, Harper, and several others of the Philharmonic band. Mr. F. Cramer was leader; Sir G. Smart conductor; and the whole was announced as under the direction of Dr. Clarke Whitfield, the Professor of Music; but whether he took any active share in the business, except to receive one hundred guineas for the advantage of his name, we cannot say.
The first concert was given on Friday evening. The fine symphony in D, by Beethoven, was executed with spirit. The air “Lo! here the gentle lark,” as sung by Mrs. W. Knyvett, was received with loud plaudits. Mr. Braham in “Oh! ’tis a glorious sight,” of Weber, and Rossini’s duet, “All idea,” with Sig. Tamburini, was extremely successful. Mad. Malibran sang the lovely aria “Non più di fiori,” from Mozart’s Tito, admirably; and her accompanyist, Mr. Willman, on the clarionet, was not less perfect. But in “Il soave e bel contento” she gave more pleasure to her audience—no very great proof of their judgment. Neükomm’s “Fantasia Concertante,” written for the Philharmonic Concerts, and there produced in 1832, was played by nearly, if not exactly, the same persons who originally performed it, and was heard with great attention, though, perhaps, not with that enthusiasm which it excited in an audience of London connoisseurs. M. de Beriot exerted himself to gain the same character in an English University that he has acquired in the British capital, and succeeded in convincing the Cantabs that he has no equal on the violin. Mr. Phillips, in the “Midnight Review,” the joint product of Barry Cornwall and M. Neükomm (for the poet is entitled to his share of praise in this), did not hit the taste of the company. Perhaps the mere name of Napoleon, in a colony of clergy, raises alarming associations. But Martini’s “Vadasi via di quà” was encored; an honour to which its distinct, beautiful melody and cheerfulness really entitle it. The room was not half filled, we regret to add.
The sacred concert on Saturday was miserably attended; so that Mr. Braham’s triumph, “Deeper and deeper still;” the “Benedictus” of Mozart; the “Deh! parlate” of Cimarosa, sung by Mad. Malibran, with “What though I trace,” and “Ye sacred priests,” by Mrs. W. Knyvett, were, we had almost said, thrown away. The concert in the evening was even more thin in company; and parts of the selection were not well calculated for the place. But Mad. Malibran’s “Una voce poco fà,” from Rossini’s “Barbiere;” Braham’s “Alexis;” the terzetto, from Il Matrimonio Segreto, “Lei faccio un’ inchino,” pleased much. “Largo al factotum,” and Horn’s song, “The deep, deep Sea,” were encored.
On Sunday, an anthem, “Let God arise,” with full orchestral accompaniments, composed as an exercise for a bachelor’s degree in music, by Mr. T. Attwood Walmisley, who has very recently been appointed organist of Trinity and St. John’s Colleges, was performed before the University, at Great St. Mary’s Church, and proved highly creditable to so young a composer, one who has not yet completed his twentieth year; and who, if he proceeds as he has begun, will, at no great distance of time, reflect great honour on his instructor, (his father,) and assist in raising the character of the English school of music.