The Irish metropolitan magazine

Title:	"The Irish metropolitan magazine"
Author:	anonymous
Published:	1858	Edward J. Milliken
URL:	http://books.google.com/books?id=MbERAAAAYAAJ&pg=PA300#v=onepage&q=&f=false

Description:

The following article, which appeared in The Irish metropolitan magazine, Volume 2, Oct 1857-March 1858, pp 300-303, is rather like the one that appears 7 years later in Queens of Song by Ellen Creathorne Clayton, but manages to leave out all the most risque bits. It credits no author or translator, but rather cites only the Escudiers' "Vie et Aventures des Cantatrices Célebrès: Par Marie et Leon Escudier." which appeared two years earlier.

Like the Escudiers, this article attributes a pseudonym to la Maupin during the incident with Baron de Sevran, but where the Escudiers had her claim to be "le chevalier de Raincy", it is given as "de Rainey", with an E, here.

Sketches of Celebrated Female Singers.*

The irresistible charm and fascination exercised by a melodious and sympathetic human voice, judiciously cultivated, and disciplined by assiduous practise, are universally felt and acknowledged. The possessors of such a voice are true sovereigns in the realm of music, and wield a magic power over the feelings and passions of their auditors. They are flattered, courted, and caressed, wherever they appear; sought after by rival Courts, bribed by contending managers, overwhelmed with bouquets, compliments, and applause, as well as the more substantial recompense of solid gold. Theirs is a brilliant and dazzling career, full of excitement, adventure, and variety—one season charming the polite circles of London, Paris, or St. Petersburg!i; the next, in Mexico, New York, or the golden regions of Australia. At one time, serenaded by the fastidious and polished amateurs of Naples or Vienna ; at another, applauded by the stentorian shouts of the rough and hardy miners of San Francisco. And, even when age has impaired the power and freshness of the voice, sobered the elastic spirit, and dimmed the brightness of the eye, there is still the luxurious villa on the enchanting shores of the Lake of Como, the loveliest spot in the fair land of sweet singers and graceful melodies, where the sands of life may run gently away amidst recollections of the brilliant past, and calm enjoyment of the tranquil present.

The lives of those who have been thus richly gifted, thus admired and honoured, thus widely renowned, furnish most tempting materials to the biographer; and we cannot but congratulate the authors of the work referred to in the title of this article, upon their happy choice of a subject, and the judicious selection which they have made from the mass of materials at their command. They have succeeded in blending instruction with entertainment; their book abounds in amusing anecdotes, and curious traits of character and manners, affording much valuable and interesting information with regard to the history and progress of the French and Italian Operas, and the lives of the great composers who created, and the distinguished artists who illustrated them, during a period of more than a century and a-half, from the appearance of Mademoiselle Maupin in 1695, to the death of Madame Sontag, in 1854. The influence of national prejudice is often indeed apparent; but then it is so frankly and naively displayed, and with so thorough a faith in the vast superiority of " La belle France " over every other country in the world, that its manifestation, instead of being offensive, becomes amusing.

A great improvement (we are told) has become visible in dramatic manners since the commencement of the present century:—

"A moral reaction, equally strange and unexpected, has taken place in the theatrical world—that dazzling and fairy creation, peopled by enchanting illusions, where frigid reason, and severe etiquette seem never to have penetrated. Order, regularity, a regard to appearances, and the domestic virtues, hare replaced that life of excitement, adventure, and eccentricity, which so long supplied the chronicles of gallantry. The ancient traditions have disappeared, the old types are effaced, and you will search in vain, in the new features, for any of those traits which characterised those of old times. What is now become of that absurd prejudice, according to which the disorder of the passions was considered the necessary aliment of talent, and the inspiring flame of genius? That, like many other prejudice!), has vanished. The great singers of our era know how to make the education of their children, and the cares of their establishment, compatible with the proper study of their parts. Strange transformation, which one of our wittiest writers has thus summed up—L'opera s'est fait pot-au-feu."

It may, perhaps, be doubted whether the ladies of the Opera have yet become such patterns of domestic virtue, although there is certainly a vast improvement since the days of Mesdemoiselles Maupin and Maillard, two of the most brilliant and eccentric singers of the last century ; whose portraits, together with those of others, sketched from the work before us, we shall now attempt to present to our readers.

The career of the first of these ladies has furnished a fertile theme to the novelist, her strange and exceptional existence affording all the charm of the most wonderful romance. A beautiful and imperious amazon, full of exuberant life, gaiety, and spirit, singing like a siren, riding like a light-dragoon, fighting like a black musqueteer, her character presents one of the most curious studies which history has handed down to us.

Mademoiselle Maupin was the daughter of a secretary of the Count of Armagnac, and was born in 1673. She was married when very young; but, during her husband's absence on business, she became acquainted with a fencing-master named Seranne, from whom she acquired her dexterity in the use of the small sword. They eloped together, and repaired to Marseilles, entering the opera of that city in the capacity of singers. Nature had endowed Mademoiselle Maupin with a beautiful and sympathetic voice, but her musical education was very imperfect and superficial. For this, however, she compensated by the versatility of her talent, which enabled her to shine equally in tragedy and comedy, and by her natural and expressive acting. The works of Lully then enjoyed great popularity, and, in personating his creations, our heroine acquired the greatest applause. A scandalous adventure, however, compelled her to quit Marseilles; she then, strange to say, determined to take refuge in a convent; but, soon tiring of conventual life, she set fire to the building, and effected her escape in the midst of the disorder created by the flames.

After various adventures she at length reached Paris, in 1695, and made her operatic début in the character of Pallas, in the Cadmus of Lully. Her performance excited a transport of enthusiasm, and she soon became the favourite singer of the Parisian public. She was often accustomed to assume male attire, in order to amuse or to avenge herself, and this gave rise to many singular rencontres. On one occasion, having been insulted by Dusmenil, an actor in the opera, she waited for him one evening, dressed en cavalier, on the Place des Victoires, challenged him to draw and defend himself, and on his refusal, caned him, and took his watch and snuff-box. Next day Dusmenil recounted his adventure at the opera, but embellished it with many additional circumstances tending to exalt his own skill and courage, affirming that he had been attacked by three antagonists, one of whom he had disarmed and disabled, and put the other two to flight. Mademoiselle Maupin quietly allowed him to finish, then stepping up to him, she exclaimed—"You have lied, and are but a coward and a poltroon. You were not attacked by several assailants. I was your only opponent, in proof of which, behold your watch and snuff-box, which I now restore!"

On another occasion she attended a ball given by Monsieur in the Palais Royal, disguised in male attire, and insulted a young lady who was present, for which three friends of that lady demanded satisfaction. Mademoiselle Maupin went out without the least hesitation, and so well had she profited by the lessons of Seranne, that she successively engaged and killed them all. She then coolly returned into the ball-room and made herself known to Monsieur, who obtained pardon for her.

Some of her Parisian adventures, however, do more honour to her character. Among the habitue's of the green-room of the Opera was a Baron de Servan, the nobility of whose extraction was somewhat doubtful, though his impertinence and folly were unquestionable. His figure was herculean, he was a noted duellist, and his conversation always ran upon gallantry and intrigue, in which his success, according to his own account, had been prodigious. One evening, while enumerating his gallant adventures, he spoke very slightingly of Mademoiselle Pérignon, a young danseuse attached to the Opera, whose irreproachable conduct had always defied calumny. His unfounded slanders were received with general marks of disapprobation, in spite of which he coolly persevered in repeating them. Mademoiselle Maupin had remained silent and motionless in a corner of the green-room during all the conversation, but, when De Servan had finished, she suddenly came forward, and addressing him with spirit, exclaimed, "Truly I admire the patience of these gentlemen. Your insolent and stupid slanders merit not refutation, but a prompt and signal chastisement. You are an infamous liar, and I tell you so." "And who are you thus to address me ?" said the Baron, trembling with rage. "The Chevalier de Rainey, a better gentleman than yourself, and ready to give you a good lesson," answered Mademoiselle Maupin, casting on De Servan a look full of contempt. A hostile meeting was the result of this angry interview, in which the Baron had his arm broken by a pistol-shot, and amputation was considered necessary. His rage and confusion were boundless when he learned that this injury and disgrace had been inflicted by the hand of a woman. He retired to his estates in Perigord, and never reappeared in Paris. The companions of Mademoiselle Maupin showed the warmest approbation of her spirited conduct on this occasion, and her reception at the Opera some days after the duel was a perfect triumph.

From Paris a magnificent engagement tempted our heroine to Brussels, where her voice and her beauty were hailed with the most frantic applause. The most distinguished nobles of the country vied with one another in attempting to render their attentions agreeable, and at length the Elector of Bavaria carried her off from all his rivals. She was, however, after some time supplanted in the Elector's favour by the Countess d'Arcos, and compelled to quit Belgium. From thence she proceeded to Spain, which she believed offered a wide field for the talents of an artist of her ability; but she was destined to be cruel y disappointed, for the Spanish theatre of that day, occupied by tasteless productions, did not present the means of bringing her forward with advantage. Thus reduced to extremity, she accepted the situation of lady's-maid to the Countess Marino, whose husband was then Prime Minister. This lady was very ill-tempered and capricious, and her soubrette, after long and patient endurance, determined to retire from a servitude which had become intolerable; but, before doing so, she revenged herself by a malicious pleasantry suggested by her fertile imagination. One day, while employed in dressing her mistress's hair for a Court ball, she took half a dozen horse-radishes with their leaves, pierced them with large black pins, and contrived to attach them, without being detected, to the back of the Countess's coiffure, who, at the same time, wore two tufts of white marabout feathers in front. The unconscious lady, on looking in her glass, was delighted with her appearance, and complimented her soubrette on the unusual skill she had displayed in her toilette. "Ah! Madame," replied Mademoiselle Maupin, " it is only at the ball that you can properly judge of the effect of your head-dress." Soon after the Countess went out alone, her husband being unwell, and, on entering the ball-room, speedily succeeded in creating an unprecedented sensation. " Good heavens! Madame," exclaimed one, " what a vernal head-dress you have got— worthy of a gardener's—I might even say, of a market-gardener's-wife." " Ah ! Madame," cried another, " one could almost devour your coiffure." " Really, sir, you are too kind," replied the Countess, agitating her marabout feathers. At length one of her friends had the candour to inform her that she was completely sold, and that her waiting-maid had, without doubt, played her a spiteful trick. The Countess' exasperation was intense. Tittering, double-entendres, and peals of laughter were heard on every side, till, crimson with shame, and choking with rage, she rushed from the ball-room ; but, on reaching her hotel, she found that her treacherous soubrette had vanished.

Once more Mademoiselle Maupin repaired to Paris and reappeared at the Opera, but, though still young and beautiful, she was coldly received ; the Parisian public had become more critical, and her want of a sound musical education now told terribly against her. In 1705 she finally quitted the stage, at the age of 32, and died in 1707, after a reconciliation with her husband, a good easy man, who had borne with perfect resignation the scandalous eccentricities of his brilliant partner.

* "Vie et Aventures des Cantatrices Célebrès: Par Marie et Leon Escudier." Paris. 1856.