# A Dictionary of Music and Musicians/Malibran, Maria

From volume 2 of the work.
​MALIBRAN, Maria Felicità, one of the most distinguished singers the world has ever seen, was born March 24, 1808, at Paris, where her father, Manuel Garcia, had arrived only two months before. When 3 years old she was taken to Italy, and at the age of 5 played a child's part in Paër's 'Agnese,' at the Fiorentini, Naples. So precocious was she that, after a few nights of this opera, she actually began to sing the part of Agnese in the duet of the second Act, a piece of audacity which was applauded by the public. Two years later, she studied solfeggi with Panseron, at Naples; and Hérold, happening to arrive about the same time, gave her her first instruction on the piano. In 1816 Garcia took her to Paris with the rest of his family, and thence to London in the autumn of 1817. Already speaking fluently Spanish, Italian, and French, Maria picked up a tolerable knowledge of English in the 2½ years she spent in London. Not long after, she learned German with the same facility. Here, too, she had good teaching on the piano, and made such rapid progress that, on her return to Paris in 1819, she was able to play J. S. Bach's clavier- works, which were great favourites with her father. In this way she acquired sound taste in music.
At the early age of 15 she was made by her father to learn singing under his own direction; and, in spite of the fear which his violent temper inspired, she soon showed the individuality and originality of her genius. Two years had barely elapsed when (1824) Garcia allowed her to appear for the first time before a musical club which he had just established. There she produced a great sensation, and her future success was confidently predicted. Two months later, Garcia returned to London where he was engaged as principal tenor; and here he set on foot a singing-class, in which the education of Maria was continued, if not completed. Fétis says that it was in consequence of a sudden indisposition of Mme. Pasta, that the first public appearance of Maria was unexpectedly made; but this account is not the same as that given by Ebers or by Lord Mount-Edgcumbe. The latter relates that, shortly after the repair of the King's Theatre, 'the great favourite Pasta arrived for a limited number of nights. About the same time Ronzi fell ill, and totally lost her voice, so that she was obliged to throw up her engagement and return to Italy. Madame Vestris having seceded, and Caradori being unable for some time to perform, it became necessary to engage a young singer, the daughter of the tenor Garcia, who had sung here for several seasons. She was as yet a mere girl, and had never appeared on any public stage; but from the first moment of her appearance she showed evident talents for it both as singer and actress. Her extreme youth, her prettiness, her pleasing voice, and sprightly easy action, as Rosina in 'Il Barbiere di Seviglia,' in which part she made her début, gained her general favour; but she was too highly extolled, and injudiciously put forward as a prima donna, when she was only a very promising débutante, who in time, by study and practice, would in all probability, under the tuition of her father, a good musician, but (to my ears at least) a most disagreeable singer, rise to eminence in her profession. But in the following year she went with her whole family (all of whom, old and young, are singers tant bons que mauvais) to establish an Italian opera in America, where, it is said, she is married, so that she will probably never return to this country, if to Europe.' Ebers says, 'her voice was a contralto, and ​managed with great taste.' Her début took place June 7, 1825. She was immediately afterwards engaged for the remainder of the season (about six weeks) at £500. On July 23, she sang Felicia in the first performance of Meyerbeer's 'Crociato.' At the end of the season, Garcia went, with his daughter, to the provincial festivals, and then embarked for New York. In this new sphere Maria rapidly improved, and acquired confidence, experience, and the habit of the stage. She appeared in 'Otello,' 'Romeo,' 'Don Giovanni,' 'Tancredi,' 'Cenerentola,' and in two operas written for her by her father, 'L'amante astuto,' and 'La Figlia dell' aria.' She had scarcely made her début when the enthusiasm of the public knew no bounds; and, in the midst of her popularity, Garcia gave her in marriage to M. Malibran, an elderly and seemingly wealthy French merchant, in spite of her repugnance to the union. This marriage, celebrated March 25, 1826, was as unhappy as it was ill-assorted; a year had hardly elapsed before the young wife found herself, on Malibran's bankruptcy, free to leave him, and she at once seized the opportunity. In September 1827 she had returned to France. Preceded by a bright reputation, she began by reaping a harvest of applause in private concerts, followed in January 1828 by a great and genuine success, at Galli's benefit, in 'Semiramide.' Her genius for dramatic singing was at once recognised, though her style was marred by a questionable taste in her choice of ornament. This she had, in Paris, the best opportunity of correcting, both by the advice of kindly critics and the example of accomplished singers. Engaged for the season at the Italian opera, she made her début April 8. The public, at first doubting, soon welcomed her as a really great singer, and were particularly struck with wonder and delight at the novelty and originality of her style. In the season of 1829 Malibran made her re-appearance in London, where she shared the applause of the public with Sontag, and the same result followed her singing with that artist at Paris in the autumn. Engaged again at the Italian Opera in the same capital in January 1830, she was paid frs. 1075 for each representation. This was less than she had received from Laporte in London, for he had given her frs. 13,333.33 a month, an odd sum, unless it meant frs. 40,000 for three months; and she stipulated only to appear twice a week, making each of those appearances cost frs. 1666.66, or about £66. Though she certainly continued to draw no higher salary at the Paris Opera in 1830 and 31, and her charge for singing at private concerts in London, 1829, was only 25 guineas, yet Mr. Alfred Bunn engaged her, soon after, for nineteen nights at £125 per night, payable in advance.
Sontag, marrying and retiring from the stage early in 1830, left Malibran mistress of the field, and henceforth she had no rival, but continued to sing each season in London and Paris with ever-increased éclat. In 1830 an attachment sprang up between her and de Bériot; and this ended only with her life. They built in 1831 a handsome villa in a suburb of Brussels, to which they returned after every operatic campaign. In the summer of 1832, a sudden inspiration took this impulsive artist to Italy in the company of Lablache, who happened to pass through Brussels; and an Italian tour was improvised, which was a sort of triumphal progress. Milan, Rome, Naples, and Bologna were visited with equal success.
On her return to Brussels in November, Mme. Malibran gave birth to a daughter, who did not live; she had already a son. In the following spring she came to London, and sang at Drury Lane, in English Opera, receiving frs. 80,000 for 40 representations, with two benefits which produced not less than frs. 50,000. The prices offered to her increased each year to an unprecedented extent. She received at the Opera in London, during May and June 1835, £2,775 for 24 appearances. Sums, the like of which had not been heard of before in such cases, were paid to her at the provincial festivals in England, and her last engagement at Naples was for frs. 80,000 for 40 nights, with 2½ benefits, while that which she had accepted at Milan from the Duke Visconti, the director of La Scala, was, exclusively of some other profitable conditions, frs. 450,000 for 185 performances, viz. 75 in 1835–6, 75 in 1836–7, and 35 in the autumn of 38.
Having played here in English versions of 'Sonnambula' and 'Fidelio,' Malibran returned to Naples, where she remained until May, 1834, proceeding then to Bologna, and thence to Milan. She soon came back, however, to London for a flying visit; and was singing at Sinigaglia in July. On the 11th of the next month she went to Lucca, where her horses were taken from her carriage, which was drawn to her hotel by enthusiastic admirers after her last appearance. She next went to Milan, where she signed the above-mentioned scrittura, and thence to Naples, where she sang during the Carnival. Here she met with an accident, her carriage being upset at the corner of a street; and she suffered injuries which prevented her from appearing in public for a fortnight. Even then, she made her first appearance with her arm in a sling, which added to the interest of the occasion. From Naples she went, in the same triumphant manner, to Venice, her arrival being announced by fanfares of trumpets. There she was besieged with fresh enthusiasm, which followed her in her return to Paris and London. She returned in August to Lucca, where she played in 'Ines di Castro,' written for her by Persiani, and in 'Maria Stuarda.'
At this juncture, her marriage was annulled by the Courts at Paris, and on March 26, 1836, she married de Bériot, with whom she returned immediately to Brussels.
In the following April, once more in London, Mme. Malibran de B{{e'}riot had a fall from her horse. She was dragged some distance along the road, and received serious injuries to her head, from which she never entirely recovered; but her ​wonderful energy enabled her for a time to disregard the consequences of this accident. She returned to Brussels, from whence she went to Aix-la-Chapelle, and gave two concerts there with de Bériot. In September she had come to England again, for the Manchester Festival,—at which her short, brilliant life came to an end. She had arrived, with her husband, after a rapid journey from Paris, on Sunday, September 11, 1836. On the following evening she sang in no less than 14 pieces. On the Tuesday, though weak and ill, she insisted on singing both morning and evening. On Wednesday, the 14th, her state was still more critical, but she contrived to sing the last sacred music in which she ever took part, 'Sing ye to the Lord,' with thrilling effect; but that same evening her last notes in public were heard, in the Duet, with Mme. Caradori Allan, 'Vanne se alberghi in petto,' from 'Andronico.' This was received with immense enthusiasm, the last movement was encored, and Malibran actually accomplished the task of repeating it. It was her last effort. While the concert-room still rang with applause, she was fainting in the arms of her friends; and, a few moments later, she was conveyed to her hotel. Here she died, after nine days of nervous fever, in the prostration which naturally followed upon the serious injuries her brain had received from the accident which had befallen her in the midst of a life of perpetual excitement. She died on Friday, Sept. 23, 1836, about 20 minutes before midnight, under the care of her own doctor, a homœopath, Belluomini, who had declined to act with the two regular physicians who had at first attended her. Two hours after her death, de Bériot was, with Belluomini, in a carriage on his way to Brussels, to secure the property of his late wife. She was buried on Oct. 1, in the south aisle of the collegiate church, Manchester. She was but 28 years of age when she died. Her remains were, soon afterwards, removed to Brussels, where they were re-interred in the cemetery of Lacken where a mausoleum was erected by de Bériot, containing a bust of the great singer by the celebrated sculptor Geefs.
It is difficult to appreciate the charm of a singer whom one has never heard. In the case of Maria Malibran, it is exceptionally difficult, for the charm seems to have consisted chiefly in the peculiarity of timbre and unusual extent of her voice, in her excitable temperament which prompted her to improvise passages of strange audacity upon the stage, and on her strong musical feeling which kept those improvisations nearly, but not quite, always within the bounds of good taste. That her voice was not faultless, either in quality or uniformity, seems certain. It was a contralto, having much of the soprano register super-added, and with an interval of dead notes intervening, to conceal which she used great ingenuity, with almost perfect success. It was, after all, her mind that helped to enslave her audience; without that mental originality, her defective vocal organ would have failed to please where, in fact, it provoked raptures. She was a phenomenal singer; and it is one misfortune of the present generation that she died too young for them to hear her.
Many portraits of Malibran have appeared, none very good. A large one, after Hayter, representing her with a harp, as 'Desdemona,' is usually accounted the best; but it is only indifferent. Another, by R. J. Lane, A.R.A., showing her made up as 'Fidalma,' and then, afterwards, in a stage-box, in her usual dress, is much better. It is this latter portrait which we have engraved.
[ J. M. ]