(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.

Nearly eighteen months elapsed before Herold obtained another opera to compose. This interval he employed in writing fantasias, and other pieces of that kind; a style in which he produced many pretty things that hardly met with the degree of encouragement they deserved. His taste led him determinately towards writing for the theatre, and he was sometimes irritated at the injustice which rendered it so difficult for him to get within the doors. Tired at last with waiting for the good libretto he was so constantly wishing for, he consented to write music to a three act comedy called ‘Premier venu.’ This piece was witty, but cold, and the most unfit possible for being turned into an opera; it had not even the merit of being new, on the contrary it had been a long time a stock piece at the ThÉÂtre Louvois, from whence Vial took it to the OpÉra Comique. Nothing could be more unfavourable to the display of Herold’s warmth of manner than this comedy; he could infuse no fire into it, and perhaps its coldness communicated itself to the unfortunate composer; however, as a man of real talent cannot compose three acts without giving some proofs of his genius, the Premier venu contains an excellent trio between three men who pretend to be sleeping.

The desire of writing for the theatre tormented Herold incessantly, but the means were as constantly wanting; authors appeared not to have sufficient confidence in his talents to confide their poems to him. This state of abandonment determined him at length to take up another old comic opera in one act called Les Troqueurs, and write new music to it. It was performed in 1819; the exertions and talents of the actors supported it through a few nights; but the piece (which was the first of the kind ever written in Paris) no longer suited the taste of the times, and it fell to rise no more. A sort of fatality seemed at this time to attend all the efforts of one whose first appearance on the stage had given promise of so brilliant a career. An opera in one act, called L’Amour Platonique, was given him in 1819 to compose; the music was required with the utmost rapidity, and sent as soon as written to the performers to study. At the general rehearsal some charming passages were remarked; but the libretto turned out to be feeble in the extreme, so much so that the author left the theatre before it was concluded. In 1820, M. Planard intrusted him with a pretty comedy of his called ‘L’auteur mort et vivant;’ unfortunately, this piece again contained no situations in which a composer could have an opportunity of doing justice to his own talents, and the very cold reception it met with during a few representations, added nothing to M. Herold’s reputation. This last disappointment appears for the time to have completely discouraged him from making any more efforts in a line which had proved so unfortunate; for during the next three years he wrote nothing, but seemed to have entirely abandoned the theatre.

During this interval the part of accompanyist at the piano-forte in the Italian Opera became vacant; Herold applied for and obtained it. From this period the duties of his situation took up the greatest part of his time; and he employed the rest in writing a great number of pieces for the piano-forte. Thus did this artist, in the flower of his age and full vigour of his talents, find himself in some degree repulsed and driven from the theatre for which he had been born. Such phases of bad fortune occur in the lives of most men of merit.

The silence of three years to which Herold had been condemned, gave way to a renewed desire of writing for the theatre, of that ardent character which is commonly a forerunner of success. His first production after so long rest was Le Muletier, performed at the OpÉra Comique in 1823. The success of this was at first doubtful, but at length it was established in the public favour, entirely on account of the merits of the composer. The music of Le Muletier is highly coloured, dramatic, and full of happy thoughts and new effects. Lasthenie followed, a composition of a graceful character, and which had only one fault: viz. that the story was taken from the Greek at a time when Greek stories happened to be entirely out of fashion. Consequently, this production made little impression on the public, though it ran through a certain number of nights, and, at all events, the connoisseurs did justice to the talents of the composer. The success of the French armies in Spain in 1823, gave occasion to the writing an opera entitled Vendome en Espagne, in the composition of which Herold was associated with Auber. The pieces which he wrote off-hand for this score contained some happy thoughts, which he afterwards worked up and employed with success in his future productions.

In 1824, Herold was again charged by the managers of the OpÉra Comique with the composition of a little piece de circonstance, (which however outlived the occasion for which it was written,) called ‘Le Roi RenÉ.’ The following year he composed for the same theatre another one act opera entitled Le Lapin Blanc, but nothing could be less fit for music; in fact words and music were equally feeble.

In this part of the narrative it becomes necessary to state, that during his three years of retreat, a great change had taken place in Herold. A constant witness of the success of Rossini’s compositions, which he had been accompanying almost without intermission at the ThÉÂtre Italien, he persuaded himself that the only means of obtaining the public favour was by imitating more or less the musical forms that were in vogue. Many others partook of his error, who did not partake of his talent; for him it was a deplorable mistake, as it withheld him some time from following the route his own genius, left to itself, would have pointed out.

Marie, an opera in three acts played at the OpÉra Comique in 1826, marked the return of M. Herold to the style which suited him; it was at once the best and the most successful piece he had till then produced; in it he gave wider scope to his sensibility than he had been able to do before, and all the pieces obtained a degree of popularity and fashion which none of his former compositions had ever enjoyed. The moment was favourable, and probably Herold would have at once taken the rank among composers of which he was worthy, if his engagement at the opera as conductor of the singers had not deprived him of the leisure necessary to profit by the tardy justice the public seemed at length disposed to do to his merits. Two years before he had quitted his situation of accompanyist at the Italian Theatre for that of conductor of the chorusses, and in 1827, he accepted the post above mentioned. From that time fatigued with a thousand occupations totally incompatible with the repose and freedom necessary for achieving works of imagination, he found it out of his power to take advantage of the favourable tide of circumstances, and at once put the seal on his reputation. The little leisure he had was given up to writing the music for a few ballets; in 1827 he wrote for the Opera the ballets of Astolphe et Joconde, and La Somnambule, both in three acts; in 1828, Lydia, a ballet in one act, and Cendrillon, a ballet in three: about the same period he also produced the overture, chorusses, &c. in the drama of Missolonghi, performed at the Odeon.

In 1829, three years after the production of his opera of Marie, he brought out a one act operetta full of charming passages, entitled L’Illusion. The music was of a melancholy and impassioned cast: for the overture he adopted the one he had some years before written for L’Amour Platonique. In the same year the king conferred the decoration of the legion of honour upon him, a distinction to which he was justly entitled. Emmeline, an opera in three acts, which he brought out in 1830, was unsuccessful; but he took a splendid revenge the next year, by producing his Zampa, a work worthy of the first masters, and which ranked Herold at once amongst the most celebrated composers of France. Abundance of fine subjects, characteristic expression of the passions, dramatic power, a deep genius for harmony and instrumentation, all are to be found in this work, the success of which has been as brilliant in Germany as it was in France. A short time after, M. Herold contributed with numerous other composers towards the music of the Marquise de Brinvilliers.

Whether it was occasioned by the weight of his labours at the Opera, or the fatigue occasioned by his recent return to the pen, or whatever was the cause, about this time M. Herold found his health give way. Still young he might have arrested the course of disease, if he would have had recourse to entire repose and a change of climate; but nothing could persuade him to quit the theatre of his success, or to cease from his labours. In spite of all the remonstrances of his friends, he continued to follow the line of life he had laid out for himself, and it was not until the insidious malady had fatally undermined his constitution, that he himself became conscious of alarm. The new management of the OpÉra Comique were in want of new operas, which it was necessary also should be ready in a short time; Herold had in his portfolio the score of the ‘PrÉ aux Clercs,’ but to furnish it for bringing before the public required a degree of time, study, and preparation, which the situation of the theatre would not allow. Herold wrote off-hand an operetta in one act, which, though a trifle, shows the hand of a master. This last production preceded a short time the production of his PrÉ aux Clercs, a work of a softer character than his Zampa, but not less happily conceived.

It was the song of the swan. The pulmonary complaint which had been undermining his life, now made every day the most alarming progress. The agitation attending the casting and bringing out of his opera hastened the catastrophe, and in less than a month from his last triumph, the artist was in his tomb, his friends, and all who knew the man, were plunged in profound grief, and even those who had no knowledge of him but from his works, sincerely and sorely regretted that his career should have been so suddenly and prematurely closed.