Mesdames Poggi-Frezzolini, Moltini, Persiani, and Ronconi—Signor Georgio Ronconi appearing in England for the first time. 1843 is noticeable in operatic annals for the production of “Don Pasquale” (Donizetti), in which Madame Grisi played Norina, and, assisted by Mario, Fornasari, and Lablache, achieved an extraordinary success. Fornasari this year made his first appearance in England, the opera chosen for his début being Donizetti’s “Belisario.” Towards the close of the season, Madame Grisi appeared as the heroine of the “Cenerentola.” In 1844 her new rôles were Isabella in Signor Costa’s “Don Carlos,” and Delizia in Ricci’s “Corado d’Altamura,” both operas being new. Her only new part in 1845 was Imogene, in Bellini’s “Il Pirata;” in 1846, Griselda, in Verdi’s “I Lombardi.” Our singer’s connection with Italian opera at Her Majesty’s Theatre was then finally closed.
The old opposition between the Pantheon and the King’s Theatre was now to be revived in the rivalry of Her Majesty’s and Covent Garden Theatres. With few exceptions the whole of the troupe, orchestra, and chorus, quitted the old theatre for the new. It was not an insurrection, it was a revolution. John Kemble’s Covent Garden was altered into an Opera House—so new-shaped that its identity seemed quite lost. A new era opened for Italian opera in England. Under the old system operas had been “pitch-forked” on to the stage—a star system had prevailed—ensemble had been completely neglected. Dingy scenery, shabby and anachronistic costumes, an inefficient chorus, and a scanty orchestra had aided a small constellation of eminent singers to maintain Italian Opera at the King’s Theatre for the entertainment of a clique, not for the pleasure of a public. This was to be changed. The new undertaking promised perfection in every thing. Art was to be considered as well as the artist—the composer as well as the singer. A catholicity of appreciation was to rule the choice of operas. The music of all nations was to be included in the répertoire, while Italian was retained as the special language of song. Upon the whole the managers of the new undertaking acted up to the spirit of their promises, although success did not very immediately crown their exertions. An enormous expenditure was required for the firm planting of the opposition project. But it was founded on sound principles, and triumphed in the end. Even the fate of the Pantheon could not crush the enterprise. Covent Garden burnt to the ground in 1856, the manager carried his troupe to the smaller Lyceum Theatre. In 1858 the Royal Italian Opera was thriving in a new and splendid theatre—New Covent Garden. At this moment we are probably justified in saying that Italian Opera is remunerative to those concerned in its production, even on a scale of magnificence without precedent, in theatrical history. This success has been dearly bought, but it has been certainly deserved. One of its consequences has been the ruin of the elder undertaking. There would seem now to be almost as little chance of hearing Italian music again in the King’s Theatre, in the Haymarket, as in the Pantheon in Oxford Street.
Madame Grisi appeared on the first night of Italian Opera at Covent Garden. Her Semiramide was supported by the Assur of her old colleague—Tamburini, and Madame Alboni, a singer who, for beauty of voice and executive ability can hardly have been equalled, made her début in England as Arsace. The season of 1847 may be remembered also as the “Jenny Lind” year. It is not unfair to say now that the merits of the Swedish Nightingale hardly justified the popular excitement that followed her performances. She was a great singer of small parts,—her ventures out of a limited line of characters were distinct failures. An admirable vocalist, but without versatility; still the most charming Alice and nearly the best Amina (for is not Malibran remembered? and Patti now singing?) that have ever been heard. The Lind mania supported Her Majesty’s Theatre under an opposition that must otherwise have crushed it. Madame Grisi’s only new part in 1847, was Lucrezia, in Verdi’s “I due Foscari.” In 1848 she played, for the first time, Leonora in Donizetti’s “Favorita,” and succeeded in obtaining public approval of an opera that had, until then, been rather undervalued. This work, composed for the Grand Opera at Paris led the way to the performance of other fine works, more especially associated with the French lyric stage. Meyerbeer’s “Les Huguenots” was produced for the first time on the occasion of the Queen’s state visit in 1848, Madame Viardot being the Valentine. In the following year Madame Grisi assumed the part, and equalled in power and sentiment, while she surpassed in beauty, the delineation of her formidable rival. The character has since remained one of the most admired of Madame Grisi’s list. The season was also memorable for the retirement of Madame Persiani. In 1850 our singer appeared for the first time, and with singular success, in the part of Alice, in Meyerbeer’s “Robert le Diable,” the opera being produced with extraordinary splendour. In 1851 her new character was Pamina in “Il Flauto Magico.” The following season was notable as being one of extreme antagonism between the rival houses. A contest between the managers, in regard to a singer, famed throughout Germany for her representation of Fides in Meyerbeer’s “Prophète,” was determined in the Court of Chancery, and the lady was forbidden to appear on the stage of Covent Garden Theatre. A subsequent season demonstrated that the merits of the German Fides hardly warranted the hostility that had risen on her account. To meet the popular demand for the performance of the opera in 1852, notwithstanding the loss of the proposed Fides, Madame Grisi courageously offered to undertake the part. Though much of the music was of an exceptional character, and hardly came fairly within the means of the singer, the poetry and passion with which the part was invested, joined to the good feeling towards the management and the public which had prompted its assumption, secured an enthusiastic reception of the representation. The performance, indeed, may be regarded altogether as a surprising tour de force on the part of our prima donna, and says much for that perpetual youth of true genius, always willing to learn and to venture, to make new effort and to acknowledge no finality. Madame Grisi’s successes in French opera, a very distinct field of
