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TERESA  CARRENO 

"by  the  grace  of  God  " 


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^zfe^ 


Excerpts  ta\en  from  a  letter  to  Carreno  in  explanation  of  the 

sub-title  of  this  boo\ 


TERESA  CARRENO 

ccby  the  grace  of  God  " 


MARTA  MILINOWSKI 

PROFESSOR   OF    MUSIC   AT  VASSAR   COLLEGE 


NEW  HAVEN 
YALE  UNIVERSITY  PRESS 

LONDON    •    HUMPHREY    MILFORD    •    OXFORD    UNIVERSITY    PRESS 


Copyright,  1940,  by  Yale  University  Press 
Printed  in  the  United  States  of  America 


First  published,  August,  1940 
Second  printing,  February,  1941 

All  rights  reserved.  This  book  may  not  be  reproduced,  in 
whole  or  in  part,  in  any  form  (except  by  reviewers  for  the  pub- 
lic   press),    without    written    permission    from    the    publishers. 


M 


r 


PUBLISHED  IN  CELEBRATION  OF 
THE  SEVENTY-FIFTH  ANNIVERSARY 

OF 

VASSAR  COLLEGE 

AND  IN  HONOR  OF 

HENRY  NOBLE  Mac  CRACKEN 

IN  THE  TWENTY-FIFTH  YEAR 

OF  HIS  PRESIDENCY 


This  boo\  is  affectionately  dedicated 
to  my  little  friend 

TERESITA  CARRENO  HARRIS 

true  heir  to  her  grandmother  s  musical  gifts. 

By  right  of  this  inheritance 

she  promises  to  \eep  alive  in  her  own  way 

the  tradition  which  is  Teresa  Carreno. 


CONTENTS 

List  of  Illustrations  xi 

Prelude  xiii 

I    Prodigy  1853-1867  1 

The  first  concert.  —  Background.  —  Childhood  in  Ca- 
racas. —  Uprooted.  —  111  wind.  —  A  decisive  audition. 

—  Test  flight.  —  The  ninth-birthday  concert.  —  Boston 
beginnings.  —  Teresita  and  the  Boston  Philharmonic 
Orchestra.  —  Other  appearances  in  Boston.  —  Lau- 
rels in  Cuba.  —  New  York  interlude.  —  President  and 
prodigy.  —  The  tenth  birthday.  —  Preparation  and 
departure.  —  Shipwreck.  —  Introduction  to  Paris.  — 
Under  high  patronage.  —  Paris  concerts.  —  Preamble 
in  London.  —  Calamity.  —  The  Spanish  tour.  —  New 
friends.  —  Teresita,  the  composer.  —  London  revis- 
ited. —  Rubinstein  and  Teresita. 

II    Trial  and  Error  1868- 1889  89 

Marking  time.  —  Teresa  transplanted.  —  From  Prom- 
enade Concerts  to  Monday  "Pops."  —  Teresa  in  opera. 

—  With  the  Patti-Mario  Troupe  in  America.  —  Emile 
Sauret.  —  Marriage.  —  Death  of  Manuel  Antonio.  — 
Second  American  tour.  —  Rift  and  separation.  —  Sec- 
ond operatic  episode.  —  Teresa  and  the  MacDowells. 

—  Second  Marriage.  —  The  Carreiio  Concert  Com- 
pany. —  The  Carreno-Donaldi  Company.  —  Regina 
Watson.  —  Depression.  —  On  tour  with  Leopold 
Damrosch.  —  The  Clara  Louise  Kellogg  Company.  — 
Teresa  plays  MacDowell.  —  Deeper  depression.  —  The 
call  of  Venezuela.  —  Homecoming.  —  Success  and 
failure.  —  The  operatic  venture.  —  Impediments.  — 
Teresa  conducts  in  opera.  —  Fiasco.  —  The  coming  of 
Arturo.  —  The  MacDowell  Concerto  in  D  minor.  — 
Opportunity.  —  London  and  Paris  interval.  —  Ger- 
many attained.  —  Facing  the  test. 


x  CONTENTS 

III  Artist  1889-1902  187 

Berlin  debut.  —  The  Walkure  comes  into  her  own.  — 
At  Berck-sur-mer.  —  Wider  horizons.  —  Carreno  and 
d  Albert. —  Companionate  holiday. —  Coswig  and 
the  winter  of  1891-1892.  —  DAlbert  in  America. — 
Unison,  1 892-1 893.  —  Consonance  and  dissonance, 
1893-1894.  —  Cross-purposes.  —  Two-piano  ensemble. 

—  The  clash.  —  Readjustment.  —  Divorce.  —  Carreno, 
the  performer,  1895-1896.  —  Carreno,  the  composer. 

—  Carreno  "arrives"  in  the  United  States.  —  Europe, 
1897-1898.  —  The  American  tour  of  1899.  —  A  Tyro- 
lean summer.  —  The  European  tour  of  1 899-1900.  — 
Pertisau.  —  Havana,  Mexico,  and  the  United  States, 
1900-1901.  —  The  coming  of  Arturo.  —  Fourth  mar- 
riage. 

IV  Vista  1912-1902        1912-1917  295 

Golden  Jubilee.  —  Retrospect.  —  Fair  horizons.  —  Ar- 
turo. —  Teresita.  —  Giovanni.  —  Hertha  and  Eugenia. 

—  Emilita.  —  Low  ceiling.  —  Carreno,  the  teacher.  — 
Hazards  of  war.  —  Swan  Song.  —  Finale. 

Afterglow  385 

Postlude.  Article  by  Dr.  Walter  Niemann  391 

Chronology  395 

Sources  399 

Index  405 


ILLUSTRATIONS 

Teresa  Carreno  Tagliapietra  Frontispiece 

Photograph  by  Aime  Dupont,  New  York 

Excerpts  taken  from  a  letter  to  Carreno  in  explanation  of  the 

sub-title  of  this  book  ii 

Irving  Hall  Debut  Program  4 

Teresita's  Parents  18 

Teresita  the  Prodigy  38 

Teresita  in  Paris  and  London  68 

Letter  from  Rossini  introducing  Teresita  to  Arditi,  composer 

and  conductor  73 

Hand  of  Carreno  86 

Photograph  by  Albert  Meyer,  Berlin 

Cast  of  Rubinstein's  Hand  86 

Photograph  by  Albert  Meyer,  Berlin 

With  the  Patti-Mario  Troupe  106 

By  permission  of  Musical  America 

Manuel  Antonio  Carreno  with  his  Son  and  Daughter  106 

Teresa  as  Zerlina  in  Don  Giovanni  120 

Giovanni  Tagliapietra  124 

Teresa  the  Mother  144 

Teresa  the  Impresario  166 

Teresa  before  her  departure  for  Germany  166 

Montmorency  1889  180 

Berlin  Debut  Program  190 

Teresa  Carreno-d' Albert  218 

Photograph  by  Hanns  Hanfstaengl,  Dresden 

Carreno  and  d'Albert  226 


xii  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Letter  from  MacDowell  to  Carrefio  257 

Teresa  Carrefio  with  her  Children  262 

Photograph  by  J.  C.  Schaarwachter,  Berlin 

Arturo  Tagliapietra  and  Teresa  Carrefio  292 

Photograph  by  J.  C.  Schaarwachter,  Berlin 

Lilli  Lehmann  296 

Photograph  by  Erwin  Raupp,  Berlin 

Walkiire  300 

Photograph  by  Aime  Dupont,  New  York 

Teresa  Carreno  Tagliapietra  306 

Photograph  by  J.  C.  Schaarwachter,  Berlin 

Giovanni  and  Teresita  326 

Photographs  by  J.  C.  Schaarwachter,  Berlin  and  Atelier  Perscheid,  Leipzig 

Carreno  in  1913  and  1916  348 

Photographs  by  Mishkin,  New  York  and  E.  Sandau,  Berlin 

Teresa  Carrefio  repatriated  388 


PRELUDE 

NONE  is  more  vibrantly  alive  than  the  performing  artist 
with  the  floodlight  of  fame  full  upon  him;  none  more 
swiftly  enters  the  labyrinth  of  hearsay  whose  only  out- 
let is  oblivion.  That  even  a  Teresa  Carreno  shares  this  common 
destiny  was  brought  home  to  me  recently  by  a  young  musician: 
"Carreno,  who  is  he?"  she  asked.  Thirty  years  ago  she  would 
have  known.  For  the  chance  of  a  standing-room  ticket  to  hear 
the  "Walkiire  of  the  Piano"  she  might  have  waited  in  line  for 
hours  with  others  of  her  kind  who  had  hitched  their  wagons, 
often  too  lightly  freighted,  to  the  fata  morgana  of  a  concert 
career.  It  was  then  still  the  piano's  golden  age.  That  austere 
and  sinister-looking  tripod  of  shining  black  dominated  the  con- 
cert stage  night  upon  night,  sleek  and  quiet  in  suspense,  like  a 
fireside  cat  waiting  for  the  touch  of  a  hand  to  caress  or  chastise 
it  into  responsive  sound.  A  concert  could  be  as  exciting  as  a 
conflagration.  It  became  so  when  Carreno  played.  Students  for- 
got their  aching  feet  and  listened  to  her  message :  "Music  is  the 
very  essence  of  living.  Making  music  is  as  easy  as  picking  flow- 
ers and  as  rewarding.  You  can  do  it  as  well  as  I  if  you  try  hard 
enough."  Each  one  of  them  fell  asleep  uplifted  and  dreamed 
herself  a  Carreno.  To  be  hailed  by  critics  as  a  coming  Carreno 
was  the  culminating  compliment  for  a  young  artist.  Carreno 
herself  could  afford  to  make  fun  of  these  potential  rivals. 
"These  Carrenos,"  she  was  often  heard  to  say.  "They  are  always 
coming.  Where  do  they  hide  themselves?  Why  don't  they 
come?" 

This  book  was  brought  into  being  out  of  the  conviction  that 
a  figure  so  significant  in  musical  America  and  Europe  during 
more  than  half  a  century  has  meaning  for  this  day  and  beyond. 
During  her  life,  dramatic  enough  to  be  recorded  for  itself  alone, 
important  changes  were  taking  place  in  the  concert  field,  in 
musical  taste,  in  musical  criticism.  Carreno  reflected  these 
changes.  She  was  an  example  of  that  rare  phenomenon  so  fas- 


xiv  PRELUDE 

cinating  to  the  psychologist,  a  prodigy  who  came  true  as  an 
artist.  Gottschalk,  Rossini,  Liszt,  and  Gounod  believed  in  her 
genius.  Rubinstein  took  it  upon  himself  to  be  her  mentor.  Von 
Biilow,  Grieg,  and  Brahms  learned  to  respect  her  as  a  colleague. 
In  her  turn  she  decisively  furthered  the  career  of  Edward  Mac- 
Dowell,  the  most  famous  of  her  pupils. 

Since  Carreno's  death  in  1917  a  number  of  persons  have  felt 
the  call  to  write  her  biography.  All  were  deterred  by  lack  of 
material  ready  at  hand.  Carreno  took  little  comfort  in  making 
order  in  the  cluttered  attic  of  her  past.  She  kept  no  comprehen- 
sive or  consecutive  diary  other  than  a  meticulous  record  of  daily 
expenses  and  concert  dates.  The  demands  of  the  moment  were 
all-absorbing.  Her  concern  was  with  her  music,  with  her  fam- 
ily. She  treated  herself  as  impersonally  as  she  treated  her  public. 

Shortly  before  her  death  she  began  to  dictate  reminiscences 
to  William  Armstrong.  Interesting  if  fragmentary  sketches, 
they  were  published  in  The  Musical  Courier.  Articles  and  inter- 
views treating  of  Carreno  the  artist,  Carreno  the  teacher,  Car- 
reno the  woman,  and  Carreno  the  mother,  exist  in  profusion 
and  confusion.  With  few  exceptions  fancy  has  juggled  with 
fact  to  the  extent  of  painting  a  distorted  picture  framed  in  a 
gingerbread  conglomerate  of  adulation  and  anecdote.  Standard 
musical  encyclopedias  disagree  upon  such  fundamentals  as  the 
dates  of  her  marriages  and  the  number  of  her  children.  They 
have  falsely  labeled  her  the  composer  of  the  national  anthem 
of  Venezuela.  Most  flagrant  of  all  is  the  willful  misrepresenta- 
tion of  Carreno  in  Wilhelm  Raupp's  biography  of  Eugen  d'Al- 
bert.  A  Carreno  does  not  lose  by  authentic  portrayal  and  de- 
serves no  less.  This  belief,  quite  aside  from  the  affection  of  the 
student  for  the  teacher  of  her  veneration,  is  the  force  behind 
these  words. 

Carreno  was  no  musical  specialist.  She  was  a  comprehensive 
personality.  Whether  she  played,  or  sang  in  opera,  or  took  up 
the  conductor's  baton,  she  did  so  with  authority.  Failure  was 
not  a  word  in  her  vocabulary,  not  in  any  of  the  five  languages 
she  used  with  interchangeable  ease.  From  the  fullness  of  her 


PRELUDE  xv 

treasure  she  had  a  gift  for  each  and  every  one.  That  is  why  her 
life  appears  not  as  a  series  of  happenings  in  the  orderly  se- 
quence of  time,  not  as  an  intricately  tangled  skein  of  character 
development,  but  rather  as  a  map  in  topographical  relief  under 
the  chiaroscuro  of  sun  and  clouds.  Three  mountain  peaks  look 
down  upon  a  varied  landscape  which  bears  the  marks  of  tri- 
umph and  disaster,  shipwreck  and  revolution.  Like  a  ribbon 
of  clashing  colors  twin  factors  dominated  Carreno's  life  from 
babyhood,  as  inseparable  as  they  were  antagonistic.  As  music 
and  dolls  made  up  the  world  of  the  child,  art  and  family  be- 
came the  all-absorbing  concern  of  the  woman.  This  unresolved 
dissonance  is  the  key  to  the  door  which  gives  upon  the  essential 
Carreno. 

The  writing  of  this  book  involved  much  travel.  Sojourns  in 
Germany  and  in  Venezuela  were  particularly  fruitful.  Every- 
where enthusiastic  and  discerning  cooperation  gave  zest  to  the 
considerable  task  of  assembling  chaotically  scattered  material. 
Without  the  wholehearted  approval  of  the  surviving  members  of 
Carreno's  family  who  freely  gave  access  to  important  documents, 
letters,  criticisms,  programs,  articles,  and  photographs  this  un- 
dertaking would  have  met  with  insuperable  obstacles.  For  their 
vote  of  confidence  and  especially  for  the  helpful  suggestions 
and  timetaking  collaboration  of  my  friend  Frau  Louis  Weber 
(the  former  Hertha  Carreno  d'Albert)  I  am  deeply  indebted. 

Most  gratifying  was  the  warm  welcome  that  greeted  me,  a 
stranger,  in  Caracas.  Wherever  I  turned,  valuable  information 
and  counsel  stood  waiting.  I  regret  that  it  is  impossible  to  make 
public  acknowledgment  to  all  who  gave  thought  to  my  work 
there.  Among  them  it  was  Mr.  Rudolf  Dolge,  president  of  the 
Pan-American  Society,  who  most  generously  furthered  my  re- 
search by  acquainting  me  with  the  resources  of  his  unique  li- 
brary, by  hours  of  patient  unearthing  of  references,  by  unselfish 
willingness  to  place  his  time  and  that  of  his  secretary  at  my 
disposal  during  the  weeks  of  my  stay.  More  important  still,  his 
active  initiative  and  perseverance  are  primarily  responsible  for 
the  recent  repatriation  of  Carreno's  ashes  by  the  Government  of 


xvi  PRELUDE 

Venezuela.  Sincere  appreciation  is  due  to  Senor  Jose  Antonio 
Calcano  and  to  Senor  Juan  Bautista  Plaza,  Venezuela's  enthusi- 
astic musicologists,  for  their  scholarly  assistance,  to  Senor  Mira- 
bal  Ponce  for  the  use  of  the  Carreno  genealogy  compiled  by 
him,  and  to  the  late  Gertrudis  Carreno,  Teresa  Carreno's  double 
first  cousin,  for  many  hours  of  delightful  and  enlightening  rem- 
iniscence. 

Thanks  are  due  also  to  Miss  Kate  S.  Chittenden  for  the  use 
of  notes  taken  in  Carreno's  classes  at  the  Institute  of  Applied 
Music  in  New  York,  to  Mrs.  Caroline  Keating  Reed  for  sharing 
with  me  her  letters  and  her  memories,  and  to  Mr.  James  C. 
Corson,  Assistant  Librarian  of  the  University  of  Edinburgh,  for 
his  help  in  establishing  the  date  of  Carreno's  first  appearance 
in  opera.  Highly  illuminating  was  a  conversation  with  Mrs.  Ed- 
ward MacDowell,  to  whom  I  am  indebted  for  permission  to 
publish  letters  of  her  own  as  well  as  of  her  husband. 

To  my  mother,  to  Dr.  Hannah  Sasse,  to  Dr.  Millicent  Todd 
Bingham  and  to  those  friends  who  have  read  the  manuscript 
and  have  helped  in  its  preparation,  allowing  me  to  share  the  ben- 
efit of  their  literary  experience,  I  give  my  affectionate  gratitude. 

It  is  beyond  the  range  of  the  possible  to  make  individual 
mention  of  that  devoted  band  of  students,  Carreno's  "Berlin 
Sons  and  Daughters."  Many  of  them  now  hold  high  rank  in 
the  musical  profession.  Carreno's  influence  is  still  a  vital  thing 
within  them,  as  was  that  intangible  something  they  brought 
her  in  exchange,  a  return  too  elusive  for  the  black  and  white 
of  words.  Their  helpful  understanding  is  woven  into  these 
pages. 

There  is  a  saying:  "Nothing  improves  with  translation — un- 
less it  be  a  bishop."  For  general  convenience,  nevertheless,  quo- 
tations have  been  given  in  the  original  language  only  if  mean- 
ing or  flavor  would  otherwise  suffer  distortion. 

Carreno  has  at  last  come  into  her  own  as  honorary  citizen  of 
her  native  land,  a  figure  of  lasting  national  import.  If  this 
book  succeeds  in  establishing  her  true  place  in  that  larger  in- 
ternational citizenship,  the  world  of  music,  it  will  have  accom- 
plished its  purpose. 


Audi  kleine  Dinge  \onnen  wis  entzuc\en; 
Auch  kjeine  Dinge  \6nnen  teuer  sein. 

Paul  Heyse 


PART  I 


PRODIGY 


TERESA  CARRENO 


EfLE  Teresita  stood  with  her  nose  flat  against  the  win- 
dow glass,  listening  to  the  prickling  of  the  rain,  liking 
the  cobblestones  washed  bright.  Rows  of  usually  drab 
stone  steps  shone  in  polished  and  diminishing  repetition,  finally 
to  disappear  in  the  mist  of  lower  Second  Avenue.  The  insistent 
rhythms  of  approaching  hoofs  called  for  tunes  to  fit  them,  and 
Teresita  hummed  to  herself  as  she  watched  a  man  crisscrossing 
to  light  the  street  lamps  one  after  the  other.  Her  own  home,  far 
away  in  South  America,  lay  bathed  in  sunshine,  as  if  in  the 
mountain  nest  of  a  great  zamuro,  who  had  carried  off  some  giant 
child's  toy  village  in  his  talons,  and  had  arranged  all  the  pink 
and  blue  and  yellow  and  green  houses  in  close,  straight  rows. 
How  pretty  were  the  red  roofs  of  Caracas !  The  cornices  in  front 
of  them  looked  like  decorations  on  a  birthday  cake,  or  even 
more  like  the  lace  on  her  best  pantalettes. 

All  at  once  a  familiar  tightening  of  the  throat  sent  out  its 
warning.  "Teresita,  you  are  not  to  cry,"  she  scolded  herself,  "not 
today  when  you  are  going  to  play  in  a  real  concert."  Quickly  she 
turned  away  from  the  window. 

"Mamacita,  will  it  soon  be  time?"  All  day  long  she  had 
periodically  interrupted  whatever  was  going  on  to  ask  that  ques- 
tion. At  last  the  mother  looked  up  from  her  sewing  to  answer: 
"Yes,  Teresita,  now  it  is  time  to  be  dressed." 

Teresita  bounded  to  kiss  her  mother's  hand,  then  stopped 
for  a  word  with  her  doll.  "Don't  cry.  As  soon  as  the  concert  is 
over  I  shall  come  back  to  you.  Poor  thing,  you  can't  go  with 
me,  because  you  don't  yet  know  how  to  play  the  piano."  With 
that  she  danced  from  the  room. 

In  the  darkening  living  room  Teresita's  father,  immaculate 
as  always,  was  improvising,  somewhat  incoherently  for  him,  on 
the  Chickering.  Both  he  and  his  wife  were  already  attired  in 
their  evening  best,  which  for  her  meant  a  gown  of  voluminous 
purple  silk  trimmed  with  precious  Spanish  lace.  Plain  gold  ear- 
rings and  a  locket  failed  to  lighten  the  impression  of  austerity 


4  TERESA  CARRENO 

suggested  by  smooth  black  hair,  parted  in  the  near  middle  and 
done  in  stiffly  hanging  ringlets.  Crossing  the  room  to  sit  beside 
her  husband,  she  looked  calm  as  an  animated  tea  cozy. 

"Do  you  think  Teresita  is  nervous,  Antonio?"  she  asked. 

"No,  Clorinda,  she's  too  healthy,"  was  the  automatic  re- 
joinder always  ready  for  the  one  who  asked  that  stupid  question. 

Together  they  sat  silent  thinking  of  Caracas  three  months  and 
so  many  endless  miles  away  in  perpetual,  temperate  summer. 
Antonio  puffed  smoke  rings  into  the  air.  They  reminded  him 
of  the  clouds  that  floated  lightly  about  the  Avila,  of  the  always 
green  and  shadowed  mountain  ranges  that  encircled  the  city, 
tiered  in  a  sort  of  visual  counterpoint,  each  a  perfect  linear 
phrase.  He  could  sing  the  lines.  They  never  made  him  feel  shut 
in,  but  rather  safely  shut  away. 

Clorinda's  perspective  was  different.  How  simple  was  life  in 
the  land  of  one's  own  language;  what  precious  privacy  lay  be- 
hind tightly  shuttered,  securely  grilled  windows,  so  unrevealing 
by  day,  so  stinging  to  the  imagination.  At  dusk  the  shutters 
might  open  revealing  poverty  or  luxury  in  unsuspected  neigh- 
borliness.  At  the  courting  hour  beautiful  young  girls  leaned 
upon  window  sills  overhanging  the  narrow  streets.  Mothers  laid 
their  babies  there  to  be  admired.  But  most  of  all  Clorinda  missed 
her  patio,  the  center  of  family  seclusion.  How  could  one  describe 
these  incredible  gardens  within  houses  to  a  New  Yorker?  She 
could  sense  them  now,  blossoming,  fruitful,  fragrant  the  year 
round  with  orchids  in  profusion  developing  miraculously  over- 
night. She  could  hear  the  hypnotic  splashing  of  the  fountain 
before  the  old  pumaga  tree,  which  shed  purple-red  dust  to  make 
itself  a  regal  carpet.  Why  did  the  premonition  recur  so  often  of 
late  that  never  would  she  see  her  home  again  ? 

In  1862  L.  F.  Harrison  was  a  well-known  figure  in  New  York. 
It  was  he  who  kept  Irving  Hall  "constantly  under  gas  with  con- 
certs, lectures,  and  balls."  This  was  not  his  first  experience  with 
an  unpredictable  wonder-child,  and  he  had  reason  to  feel  anx- 
ious. However,  there  was  comfort  in  the  thought  that  seats  had 


First  appearance,  in  public  of 


IMISS  TM  UNO 

The  Child  Pianist  8  years  of  age. 

I  Who   on   the   occasion  of  her  First  Grand  Concert  will  be 
|  assisted  by  the  following  distinguished  Artists, 

|    MADAME  ELEKA  B'ANGRI, 
MR.  WILLIAM    CASTLE, 

SIGNOB  ABELL  A 

MB.  THEODORE  THOMAS, 
MIL  MQSENTHAL, 

MR.   MAT&KA, 


|  And   MR.  PREUSSER. 

I  SIGNOR     ABELLA, 

|j  Will  preside  at  the  Pia-rao. 


2&         The  Gran    ffi  mo  used  by  Miss  Carreno  is   from  the  celebrated  manufactory 

§4®  of  MESSRS.  CHICKERING  &  SONS'  Warerooms,   corner  of  Broadway  and 
Fourjh  street. 
Boors  open  at  f.    Concert  Will  commence  at  8  o'clock. 

1     PROGRAMME. 

PART  FIRST. 

tj.  Hondo  Brilliant .Hummel 
With  aocompanyments  of  two  Vwlius — Viola,  Violincello  aud  double  bais. 
BUSS  TERESA  CARRENO. 

&|  8.  Romansa,  "  TJna  furtiya  larflima"  (Eliair  d'Amore) Donizetti 

M  ME,  WM,  CASTLE. 

|p|  0.  Fantasia,  "  Luoia" e Vftuxtemps 

||  MR.  THEODORE   THOMAS. 

4.  Caratina,   "  Somirasaide" Rossini 

MADAME  ELENA  D'ANGRI. 

6.  Fantasia,  "  Moise" Thalberg 

MISS   TERESA    CARRENO. 


PART  SECOND.  ^~  " 

6,  Duettiooi,    "  n  Trovatore" V«raT" 

MADAME  ELENA  D'ANGRI  and  MR.  WJM.  CASTLE. 

||  T.  Nocturne ' Poemer 

W*»S  TKRESA  VJA«»»i««- 

S  8.  Fantassa,  "  Ernani" , . . . : Vieuxtemps 

H  MR.  THEODORE  THOMAS. 

m  9    Aria,  "  No  no,  no,"  (Huguenots) Meyerbeer 

|j     '  MADAME  ELENA  D'ANGRI. 

§1  10    Jerusalem,  "  Grand  Fantasia  Triumphale" Gottsohslk 

Jjj       *  MISS  TERESA  CARRENO. 

r!  ' 

MISS  TERESA  CARRENO, 

Will  give  her 

SEOOHD  G-RAND  CONCERT, 

On  Saturday  Evening-,  Nov.  29tJi. 


HEBALD  PKINT. 


£ 


Irving  Hall  Debut  Program 


TERESA  CARRENO  5 

sold  surprisingly  well,  and  that  he  was  not  risking  very  much. 
Senor  Carrefio  was  too  gentlemanly  and  inexperienced  to  be  a 
good  businessman.  Mr.  Harrison  had  dictated  a  contract  to  his 
own  liking,  and  he  patted  the  pocket  where  it  lay. 

People  were  gathering  in  spite  of  the  weather.  The  critics 
stood  grouped  together,  waiting  for  the  ringing  of  the  bell. 
Those  who  had  not  heard  "this  last  sweet  thing  in  prodigies," 
as  the  Home  Journal  put  it,  were  frankly  bored  at  the  prospect. 
Mr.  Harrison  was  everywhere  in  evidence,  alert  for  remarks 
that  would  give  the  temper  of  the  audience. 

A  dowager  was  using  her  tortoise-shell  lorgnette  to  best  ad- 
vantage: "It  is  the  first  time  that  I  have  had  occasion  to  come 
here  since  the  hall  was  renovated.  It  is  really  delightful,  my 
dear,  to  hear  a  concert  in  so  chaste  a  setting."  This  to  a  young 
girl  who  was  busily  reading  the  program,  long  as  a  scroll. 

"Yes,  it  is  indeed,  Auntie.  Did  you  know  that  this  child  has 
learned  the  Gottschalk  piece  she  is  playing  tonight  in  Rvt  days  ? 
She  was  running  around,  a  mere  baby,  among  the  seats  at  his 
last  concert.  He  considers  her  a  genius  and  means  to  give  her 
lessons  when  he  has  time  to  breathe  between  concerts." 

"Does  he  really,  my  dear  ?  But  if  you  ask  my  opinion,"  again 
the  dowager's  far-reaching  voice,  "I  think  it  is  preposterous  to 
allow  so  young  a  child,  if  she  is  only  eight  years  old  as  they 
say,  to  play  at  this  hour  of  the  night." 

The  critics  meanwhile  were  engaged  in  argument. 

A  complaining  one:  "Another  concert  by  one  of  those  over- 
drilled,  under-nourished  infants!  In  two  years,  who  will  re- 
member her  name?" 

An  enthusiastic  one:  "But  this  one  is  really  quite  different. 
She  has  something  to  say,  and  her  own  compositions  are  in 
good  form  and  very  fresh  and  natural." 

The  complaining  one:  "Hm!  We'll  soon  know!  I  don't  in- 
tend to  sit  this  endless  program  through.  Why  can't  pianists 
find  something  to  play  besides  opera  transcriptions?  They  call 
her  the  second  Mozart.  Why  doesn't  she  play  some  of  his  things 
then?" 


6  TERESA  CARRENO 

The  enthusiastic  one:  "Perhaps  that's  the  very  reason.  She 
prefers  to  be  Teresita  the  first,  not  Mozart  the  second.  You'll 
find  that  she  interprets  every  phrase  as  if  she  meant  it.  I  heard 
her  one  morning  at  her  own  home.  She  improvises  delightfully, 
making  up  stories  as  she  plays.  I  couldn't  understand  them. 
She  talks  only  in  Spanish." 

The  complaining  one:  "Where  in  creation  is  Venezuela  any- 
how ?  One  of  those  islands  down  there  ? — Oh,  now  I  remember ! 
That's  the  place  where  they  are  always  having  revolutions.  The 
sound  of  the  name  Caracas  suggests  revolutions.  I  suppose  it 
was  too  peaceful  for  her  there,  so  she  came  up  here,  where 
something  real  is  going  on.  Well,  there's  the  call!  Until  later, 
gentlemen!" 

Irving  Hall,  an  architectural  hodgepodge  by  day,  was  to 
Teresita  on  this  night  of  her  first  concert  a  palace  of  jeweled 
light  through  the  rain.  The  long  row  of  carriages  in  front  of 
theirs  made  progress  slow,  much  too  slow  for  the  artist  of  the 
evening.  She  could  not  wait  to  begin.  In  a  few  moments  she 
would  be  pleasing  more  people  than  she  had  pleased  in  all  her 
life,  and  earning  money  to  help  her  father  and  mother  besides. 
It  would  not  be  very  different  from  playing  in  the  same  hall 
three  weeks  ago,  only  so  much  more  gay  at  night.  Last  time, 
when  people  refused  to  stop  clapping,  she  ran  to  hide  behind 
her  father.  After  that  she  would  play  no  more,  pretending  to 
be  tired.  Could  anyone  really  get  tired  just  playing  the  piano  ? 
Tonight,  no  matter  how  much  noise  they  made,  she  must  not 
hide.  "Children  run  away,  artists  never!"  So  her  father  had 
said. 

In  the  dressing  room  below  stage  the  quintette  of  stringed 
instruments,  that  was  to  accompany  Teresita  in  Hummel's 
"Rondo  Brillante"  under  the  leadership  of  young  Theodore 
Thomas,  was  tuning.  Clorinda  smoothed  out  the  points  of 
Teresita's  collar  and  gave  an  appraising  look  at  the  full  skirt, 
which  billowed  becomingly  to  set  off  the  lace  of  the  pantalettes. 
The  simple  white  dress,  cut  low  and  with  short  sleeves  that 
puffed,  was  Clorinda's  own  contribution  to  the  occasion,  the 


TERESA  CARRENO  7 

product  of  her  needlework.  She  was  justly  proud.  From  her 
daughter's  silky  black  hair  to  the  shiny  black  boots,  which 
reached  halfway  to  the  pantalettes,  she  could  find  no  flaw. 

Now  was  the  moment.  Teresita  could  hardly  be  held  back 
while  the  gentlemen  of  the  quintette  arranged  themselves  in 
their  places.  Vaguely,  as  if  from  a  great  distance,  she  heard  her 
father  say,  "Teresita,  remember  not  to  run  across  the  stage."  It 
seemed  so  far  from  the  door  to  the  piano  that  halfway  there  she 
forgot,  covering  the  remaining  distance  in  a  purposeful  ac- 
celerando. She  did  remember  to  give  a  shy,  appealing  nod  to 
the  audience  before  mounting  the  piano  stool.  For  her  that  was 
the  really  difficult  part  of  the  concert.  She  literally  had  to  climb 
it,  then  arranging  her  feet  carefully  on  the  wooden  platform, 
especially  designed  with  two  steel  rods  running  through  it,  so 
that  she  might  move  the  pedals  she  could  not  yet  reach.  Once 
safely  mounted,  she  gave  her  miniature  orchestra  the  A  with  so 
professional  a  gesture  that  the  audience  was  hers  in  a  common 
smile  of  tender  amusement,  won  over  before  she  had  played  a 
single  note.  Of  this  Teresita  was  unaware.  Here  she  was  at  last, 
to  play  in  the  same  place,  on  the  same  Chickering  even,  that 
had  vibrated  a  few  days  before  under  the  fingers  of  Gottschalk, 
her  idol. 

With  the  first  note  came  a  complete  transformation.  The 
child  disappeared;  in  her  place  the  artist,  intently,  maturely 
concentrated.  As  if  by  electric  contact  the  listeners  were  drawn 
into  common  understanding  of  her  music.  She  made  it  sound 
simple,  clear — and  unbelievable.  To  play  a  difficult  composition 
fluently  and  correctly  seemed  to  be  as  easy  for  Teresita  as  say- 
ing her  prayers.  There  she  sat  at  ease  upon  her  pedestal,  her 
round  arms,  her  short,  well-cushioned  fingers,  moving  with  the 
freedom  and  grace  that  is  the  result  of  unconscious  economy  of 
effort.  And  every  phrase  she  played  she  lived.  The  audience  was 
baffled.  How  was  she  able  at  eight  years  of  age  to  do  that  which 
another  could  not  hope  to  do  in  eight  years  of  study?  Where 
did  she  get  her  sense  of  color  values,  of  architectural  balance  ? 
What  gave  her  the  power  to  evoke  feelings  she  never  could  have 


8  TERESA  CARRENO 

had  herself?  Felipe  Larrazabal,  a  musical  compatriot,  speaking 
of  Teresita  in  Venezuela  a  year  before,  aptly  quoted  a  Latin 
poet:  "There  is  a  God  within  me,  who  fills  my  spirit  with 
celestial  clarity.  He  dominates  me,  He  moves  my  hands.  He  it 
is  who  inspires  my  songs  of  delight,  my  cries  of  pain,  of  pas- 
sion, and  of  mystery.  Est  Deus  in  Nobis." 

The  rondo  at  an  end,  Teresita,  child  again,  responded  to  the 
stormy  applause,  as  her  father  had  taught  her.  Wall  Street 
gentlemen  and  children  as  small  as  she  herself  brought  flowers 
and  wreaths.  The  wreaths  she  hung  upon  her  arm ;  the  flowers 
she  gathered  in  her  skirt,  an  improvised  apron,  while  her  par- 
ents, standing  in  the  wings  tensely  aware  of  every  gesture,  won- 
dered at  her  self-possession.  Suddenly  in  the  middle  of  a  series 
of  choppy,  childishly  awkward  bows  in  embryo,  she  stiffened. 
A  courtly  old  gentleman  was  holding  up  an  enormous  doll  for 
her  to  take.  Forgetting  everything  else,  Teresita  dropped  her 
flowers  and  ran  to  clutch  it.  When  she  squeezed  it,  it  cried  like 
any  live  baby.  Ecstatically,  leaving  the  lesser  trophies  for  others 
to  pick  up,  Teresita  ran  from  the  stage. 

A  lady  in  the  front  row  wiped  her  eyes  and  turned  to  her 
husband.  "She  reminds  me  of  Adelina  Patti.  She  has  the  same 
dark  eyes  and  skin  and  hair,  and  the  same  bewitching  expres- 
sion. I  have  never  been  so  moved  at  a  concert  before."  Her  hus- 
band was  of  a  more  matter-of-fact  turn  of  mind.  "I  have  heard 
more  than  I  expected.  She  does  get  over  the  keys  in  tough 
music.  Did  you  see  that  elderly  gentleman  try  to  give  her  a 
bouquet  while  she  was  running  off  stage  ?  He  couldn't  keep  up 
with  her  and  was  finally  obliged  to  throw  it  after  her." 

Even  the  complaining  critic  was  converted.  "There  seems  to 
be  nothing  lacking  except  strength,  of  course,  and  a  certain 
maturity  of  style.  How  those  hands  can  stretch  an  octave  is  a 
mystery,  and  yet  her  octave  passages  are  remarkably  clear  and 
accurate.  I  don't  understand  it;  I  just  don't  understand  it!" 

The  concert  continued  in  the  approved  manner  of  the  Sixties, 
which  called  above  all  for  variety.  Teresita,  absorbed  in  her 
treasure,  did  not  bother  to  listen  to  the  singing  of  Mr.  Castle 


TERESA  CARRENO  9 

and  Mme.  Angri.  Only  once  did  she  open  the  door,  so  that  her 
doll  might  hear  the  violin  solos  of  her  friend  Theodore 
Thomas,  whose  accompaniments  she  often  played  at  home. 

Soon  again  it  was  her  turn.  She  nearly  cried  because  she  was 
not  allowed  to  take  her  doll  out  upon  the  stage  to  listen  to  the 
music.  In  Thalberg's  Fantaisie  sur  Mo'ise  en  Egypte  there  was 
chance  for  grand  climaxes,  brilliant  passages,  and  sweet,  warm 
melodies  familiar  to  many  of  the  audience.  Teresita  made  the 
most  of  them.  Enthusiasm  became  hysteria.  Even  the  complain- 
ing critic  surprised  himself  by  shouting  "Bravo!"  to  an  operatic 
transcription.  Before  the  first  round  of  applause  had  subsided, 
Teresita  had  arranged  herself  upon  the  piano  stool  again,  this 
time  to  play  for  an  encore  the  waltz  she  had  composed  for 
Gottschalk.  That  this  master  would  play  it  in  his  concerts  was 
her  fervent  hope,  one  never  to  be  realized.  A  nocturne  by 
Doehler  followed  the  intermission.  Her  eyes  half-closed,  she 
became  serious,  remote.  At  the  end  there  was  a  momentary 
tribute  of  stillness,  then  the  barbarous  interruption  of  clapping, 
an  all-too-sudden  call  back  to  childhood. 

The  time  seemed  endless  until  she  sat  before  the  Chickering 
again.  Gottschalk's  "Jerusalem"  was  worth  waiting  for.  To 
surprise  him  she  had  learned  it  in  less  than  a  week.  A  single 
lesson  taught  her  to  interpret  it  as  he  did.  Not  without  reason 
it  was  called  a  "grand  triumphal  fantasie."  There  were  parts 
that  whispered,  parts  that  sobbed,  and  parts  that  soared  to 
glittering  pinnacles.  Teresita's  conviction  that  the  music  she  was 
playing  was  the  most  beautiful  in  the  world  made  it  become 
greater  than  it  was.  The  piano,  the  performer,  and  the  music 
were  completely  fused.  To  those  who  listened,  life  for  a  mo- 
ment seemed  whole  and  right. 

At  last  Teresita  had  said  the  last  polite  gracias  to  people,  most 
of  whom  she  could  not  understand.  The  hall  lay  in  darkness. 
"How  did  you  enjoy  playing?"  asked  her  father.  The  answer 
came  without  hesitation.  "I  felt  I  was  in  Heaven."  The  mother 
had  a  more  practical  question.  "Suppose,  Teresita,  you  had  to 
choose  between  being  a  princess  and  an  artist,  which  would  it 


io  TERESA  CARRENO 

be?"  Simply,  with  prophetic  gravity,  Teresita  took  her  musical 
vows.  "I  shall  be  an  artist  all  my  life." 

Overnight  the  little  prodigy  of  the  Andes  became  the  marvel 
of  New  York.  Without  possessing  its  language  she  had  made 
herself  understood,  bringing  a  universal  message,  different  for 
each  according  to  his  state  of  being.  Mr.  Harrison,  open-eyed 
wherever  his  own  interests  were  involved,  had  announced  a 
second  concert  on  the  program  of  the  first  without  consulting 
the  father.  Teresita,  her  doll  in  her  arms,  her  flowers  fragrant 
about  her,  stood  eager.  It  was  great  fun  and  so  very  easy  to 
please  people.  Always  she  would  like  to  give  more  pleasure  to 
more  people. 

Manuel  Antonio  faced  a  crisis  as  important  as  the  one  that 
had  deprived  him  of  office  in  Venezuela  the  year  before.  Last 
night  not  only  Teresita  but  he  himself  had  succeeded.  The 
thwarted  dream  of  becoming  an  artist  in  his  own  right  was 
now  coming  true  in  his  pupil,  his  daughter,  and  the  disappoint- 
ment of  seeing  his  career  as  Minister  of  Finance  ended  by  one 
of  Venezuela's  all-too-frequent  revolutions  had  at  last  found 
potential  compensation.  By  nature  an  unselfish  idealist  and  a 
teacher,  Manuel  Antonio  might  at  fifty  still  find  fulfillment  as 
a  guide  to  unfolding  genius.  The  far  line  of  his  ancestors  would 
approve  such  a  choice. 


In  Spain,  and  later  in  Venezuela,  the  house  of  Carreno  stood 
worthy  of  record.  The  family  name  drew  its  origin  from  a  still- 
existing  municipality  of  Carreno,  a  group  of  scattered  farms  be- 
longing to  the  diocese  of  Oviedo  in  the  ancient  kindom  of  the 
Asturias,  and  lying  on  the  Bay  of  Biscay  west  of  Santander. 
Teresita  never  tired  of  asking  her  father  to  tell  her  again  and 
again  how  Don  Alonso  Carreno  helped  to  take  Carrion  de  los 
Condes  from  the  Moors  during  the  reign  of  King  Alfonso  el 
Casto.  The  Christians,  Don  Alonso  among  them,  taking  the 
horse  of  Troy  for  a  model,  had  the  temerity  to  enter  the  town 
in  carts  covered  with  fresh  vegetables.  Once  in  the  square,  they 
surprised  the  infidels  and  drove  them  out.  The  Carreno  crest, 
showing  wheels  grasped  in  the  talons  of  an  eagle  about  to  take 
flight,  bears  witness  to  this  feat  and  also  to  the  derivation  of 
the  family  name.  On  the  red  border  of  the  shield  appear  eight 
crosses  of  San  Andres. 

Emerging  from  the  forest  of  tradition  to  the  clearing  of  his- 
tory there  is  mention  of  a  certain  Garci  Fernandez  Carreno  to 
whom,  in  return  for  a  service,  King  Sancho  IV  of  Castile  gave 
the  privilege  of  receiving  each  year  the  robes  worn  by  the  king 
on  Holy  Thursday.  Not  until  the  time  of  Carlos  I  of  Spain  was 
the  grant  revoked.  A  payment  of  11,200  maravedises  relieved 
the  treasury  of  this  strange  obligation. 

The  Carrenos,  hidalgos  of  old,  are  not  listed  in  the  Guia  de 
la  Grandeza,  But  a  number  served  their  king  intimately  in  the 
post  of  chamberlain,  treasurer,  or  more  remotely  as  city  gov- 
ernors. 

The  artistic  bent  was  characteristic  of  the  Carrenos  from  the 
first.  In  the  middle  of  the  fifteenth  century,  Fernando  de  Car- 
reno built  the  fortress-palace,  Castillo  de  la  Mota,  for  the  fa- 
mous Dukes  of  Benavente.  And  there  is  mention  of  many  others, 
whose  gift  for  poetry  and  painting  gave  them  passing  fame  in 
their  own  time.  This  urge  reached  its  climax  in  the  celebrated 
painter  of  his  day,  Juan  Carreno  de  Miranda,  born  in  Aviles, 
Asturias,  the  twenty-fifth  of  March,  1614.  He  was  the  one  who 


12  TERESA  CARRENO 

most  ably  assimilated  and  handed  down  the  tradition  and 
method  of  Velasquez.  To  his  misfortune  he  became  popular  as 
court  painter  and  found  himself  obliged  to  take  royal  Haps- 
burgs,  unprepossessing  as  they  were,  as  subjects.  Charles  II,  as 
vain  as  he  was  pale  and  vacant  in  expression,  was  one  of  his 
frequent  trials.  Although  Carreno  de  Miranda  solved  the  prob- 
lem as  neatly  as  might  be  by  lavishing  his  talents  on  the  robes, 
accessories,  and  backgrounds  of  his  subjects,  thinking  it  better  to 
leave  character  unrevealed,  and  finding  his  devotional  outlet 
in  religious  painting  of  uncommon  beauty,  it  is  probable  that 
he  missed  true  greatness  in  art  by  reason  of  obligatory  deference 
to  the  great  in  lineage. 

A  rural  quarter  to  the  municipality  of  Cienfuegos  in  Cuba 
records  the  names  and  the  successes  of  the  adventurous  Car- 
renos  who  sailed  the  seas.  Bartolome  Carreno,  a  sea  captain, 
helped  to  discover  the  Bermudas  and  other  Caribbean  islands. 
His  son,  Francisco,  became  governor  of  Havana,  improved  its 
fortifications,  increased  its  garrison,  fought  against  piracy,  and 
put  into  practice  important  means  for  bettering  public  service 
in  the  colony.  He  died  in  Cuba  (1759)  poisoned  by  the  wife  of 
a  certain  official  dismissed  by  him  for  bad  conduct. 

Probably  at  the  end  of  the  seventeenth  century  the  first  Car- 
reno found  his  way  to  Venezuela,  perhaps  a  younger  son  with 
slight  prospects  at  home  in  Spain,  going  in  search  of  the  prom- 
ised Eldorado,  that  invention  of  the  Indios  meant  to  lead  the 
invaders  into  the  fastnesses  of  the  Andes  and  of  the  Llanos 
where  they  could  most  easily  be  destroyed.  These  adventurous 
boys  must  have  found  life  in  this,  the  first  and  the  poorest 
settlement  on  the  mainland,  strenuous  beyond  expectation.  Un- 
til the  late  eighteenth  century  Spain  took  little  interest  in 
Venezuela,  the  least  promising  of  its  dependencies.  Agriculture 
was  the  chief  means  of  livelihood,  gained  with  untold  hard- 
ships in  the  face  of  uncompromising  natural  obstacles  and  other 
ingenious  ones  devised  by  the  unfriendly  natives. 

In  Caracas  a  young  hidalgo  was  sure  to  be  confronted  by  a 
small  group  of  the  descendants  of  titled  Spaniards  banded  to- 


TERESA  CARRENO  13 

gether  in  a  closed  circle.  Excluded  by  birth  from  this,  he  was 
obliged  to  look  for  other  fields  in  which  to  achieve  dignified 
social  standing.  The  early  Venezuelan  Carrenos  found  in  the 
position  of  Maestro  de  Coro  of  the  Cathedral  of  Caracas  a 
vocation  alike  congenial  to  their  religious  leanings  and  their 
musical  gifts.  Eventually  it  became  a  professional  hereditary 
hierarchy  in  the  Carreno  family  for  generations.  In  unbroken 
succession  from  father  to  son  they  were  devoted  churchmen, 
able  composers  and  organists.  Although  the  indigent  diocese  of 
Caracas  was  unable  to  provide  them  with  a  fit  salary,  the  Car- 
renos did  not  apparently  object  to  working  tirelessly  for  the 
glory  of  God  alone.  The  fact  remains  to  their  even  greater 
credit  that  they  played  a  major  part  in  the  musical  development 
of  their  country. 

Revered  above  all  other  musicians  in  the  Caracas  of  the 
1770's  was  Padre  Pedro  Palacios  y  Sojo.  Belonging  to  the  ma- 
ternal side  of  Bolivar's  family,  he  possessed  considerable  in- 
herited wealth,  which  he  used  first  of  all  to  build  a  church, 
San  Felipe  Neri,  and  a  monastery  for  the  brothers  of  this 
order.  His  dream  included  an  academy  of  music.  To  make  it 
come  true  he  brought  back  from  Italy  a  library  of  good  music, 
religious  and  secular,  books  of  instruction,  and  instruments. 
Two  visiting  Austrian  naturalists,  Bredemeyer  and  Schultz  by 
name,  took  an  active  interest  in  his  plans.  On  their  return  to 
Austria,  so  infectious  was  their  description  that  they  were  com- 
missioned by  their  monarch  to  send  music,  among  which  were 
the  string  quartettes  of  Haydn  and  Mozart,  and  instruments, 
both  strings  and  wood  winds,  to  further  Padre  Sojo's  under- 
taking. The  first  Societa  Filarmonica  had  already  been  formed 
under  the  leadership  of  Don  Juan  Manuel  Olivares.  Padre  Sojo 
wisely  decided  to  put  him  in  charge  of  the  new  school.  Under 
his  direction  Venezuela,  elementally  endowed  with  musical 
riches,  developed  with  tropical  fervor  and  speed.  Taking  the 
European  classics  for  a  mold,  eager  young  musicians,  among 
them  Jose  Cayetano  Carreno  the  younger,  gathered  together  to 
learn  the  technique  of  their  calling. 


i4  TERESA  CARRENO 

The  Comte  de  Segur  on  his  visit  to  Caracas  in  1776  found 
the  men  somewhat  "reserved  and  serious,"  but  "the  Senoritas 
outstanding  for  the  beauty  of  their  faces,  the  richness  of  their 
dress,  the  elegance  of  their  manners,  and  for  their  love  of 
dancing  and  music."  Alexander  von  Humboldt  twenty-five 
years  later  reported:  "I  encountered  in  the  families  of  Caracas 
a  decided  desire  for  learning,  knowledge  of  the  works  of 
French  and  Italian  literature,  and  a  notable  fondness  for  music 
which  they  cultivate  with  success.  Like  every  fine  art,  it  forms 
the  nucleus  which  brings  different  classes  of  society  together." 

The  musical  life  of  Caracas  found  a  center  in  the  adjoining 
surburban  estates  of  Padre  Sojo,  Don  Bartolome  Blandin,  and 
Padre  Mohedano.  There  from  under  the  orange  trees  with  the 
Avila,  a  majestic  auditor,  in  the  background,  the  quartettes  of 
Haydn  and  of  Mozart  sounded  for  the  first  time  in  Venezuela. 
Aristides  Rojas,  Venezuela's  great  historian,  rhapsodized:  "For 
the  fields  of  Chacao  the  memory  of  the  art  of  music  and  of 
growing  coffee  is  what  to  the  old  castles  were  the  legends  of 
the  troubadours." 

He  devoted  a  picturesque  chapter  to  the  celebration  in  honor 
of  the  first  coffee  harvest  in  that  area  on  a  scale  of  commercial 
significance.  An  earlier  planting  had  failed  to  reach  fruition, 
and  only  after  two  years  of  anxious  waiting  did  the  coffee 
bushes  begin  to  blossom  in  their  sweet-scented,  breath-taking 
white  under  the  shade  of  the  higher  trees  planted  to  protect 
them  from  the  sun,  twice  flowering  themselves  in  blatant  scar- 
let before  the  matching  red  of  the  coffee  berries  appeared  in 
profusion  that  exceeded  hope. 

Finally  at  the  end  of  1786  the  three  neighbors  were  able  to 
send  out  invitations  for  a  unique  festival.  On  the  morning  of 
the  appointed  day  the  bumpy  road  leading  to  the  Blandin 
estate  was  alive  with  every  kind  of  conveyance.  The  guests  in- 
cluded all  that  was  distinguished  and  lovely  in  Caracas.  En- 
tertainment began  with  a  walk  through  the  coffee  plantation. 
From  there  the  light  music  of  an  orchestra  drew  the  young 
people  into  the  huge  hall  for  dancing,  the  more  serious-minded 


TERESA  CARRENO  15 

preferring  the  orange  grove  where  quartettes  of  the  classic 
masters  alternated  with  songs  accompanied  upon  the  clavecin, 
to  which  the  birds,  unaccustomed  to  music  not  of  their  own 
making,  gave  sweet  antiphony. 

Tables  were  laid  for  luncheon  where  fruit  trees  made  an  im- 
provised dining  room.  Leisure  amid  beauty  is  a  setting  in 
which  the  Venezuelan  feels  himself  at  home.  Laughter  and 
easy  conversation  spiced  the  banquet  from  beginning  to  end. 
Come  the  time  to  serve  the  coffee,  all  the  tables  were  removed 
but  one  in  the  center,  whose  decorations  consisted  of  three 
flowering  coffee  bushes  set  in  jars  of  porcelain.  Silver  platters 
filled  with  delicate  pastry  stood  next  to  small  cups  of  transpar- 
ent china.  The  aroma  of  coffee,  freshly  distilled,  insinuated  it- 
self gratefully  into  the  consciousness  of  the  guests  standing  to 
witness  the  pouring.  The  first  cup  was  offered  to  Padre  Mo- 
hedano,  beloved  priest  of  Chacao,  amid  great  acclaim.  Then 
spontaneously  there  was  silence,  the  eloquent  silence  that  some- 
times transmits  a  wish  more  clearly  than  words.  Padre  Mo- 
hedano  understood.  Lifting  his  hand  he  called  down  the  bless- 
ing of  God  upon  this  harvest,  "gift  of  wise  nature  and  of  men 
of  good  will."  Padre  Sojo  asked  that  divine  favor  fall  upon  art, 
"rich  gift  of  Providence."  In  his  turn  Padre  Domingo  Blandin 
then  prayed  that  the  grace  of  the  Lord  descend  upon  those 
brought  together  on  this  occasion.  The  ceremony  of  serving  a 
cup  of  coffee  to  each  guest  officially  closed  the  festival. 

A  close  friend  of  Padre  Sojo  was  Jose  Cayetano  Carreno, 
Maestro  de  Capilla  of  the  Cathedral  of  Caracas,  and  brother 
of  that  Juan  de  la  Cruz  Carreno,  whose  "filegie"  is  the  earliest 
composition  by  a  member  of  this  family  to  be  preserved  in  its 
archives.  Cayetano's  marriage  to  Dona  Rosalia  Rodriguez  re- 
sulted several  generations  later  in  the  appearance  of  Venezuela's 
greatest  genius,  always  excepting  Bolivar,  Maria  Teresa  Car- 
reno y  Toro,  still  affectionately  known  in  the  country  of  her 
birth  as  Teresita  Carreno. 

Cayetano's  son,  also  called  Jose  Cayetano,  born  in  1766,  was 
a  true  son  of  his  father  in  more  than  name.  He  inherited  his 


16  TERESA  CARRENO 

musical  gifts,  his  kindly  nature,  and  his  probity,  succeeding 
him  in  due  time  as  Maestro  de  Capilla.  The  great  pride  of  the 
Sojo-Olivares  School  in  which  he  was  trained,  his  compositions 
are  still  heard,  resurrected  by  the  young  enthusiasts  of  today, 
in  the  setting  in  which  they  were  conceived,  the  most  famous 
being  "La  Oracion  en  el  Huerto,"  a  master  work  "full  of 
sweetness  and  truly  celestial  uplift,"  reminiscent  of  Haydn  in 
its  sincerity  and  purity  of  outline.  He  is  remembered  also  for 
his  musical  high  tenor,  that  greatly  enhanced  the  appeal  of  the 
masses  and  oratorios  in  which  he  took  part,  for  his  playing  of 
various  instruments,  and  for  his  conducting  of  the  orchestra  in 
the  Teatro  Cordero.  Like  most  of  his  contemporaries  he  was 
caught  by  the  spirit  of  the  Revolution  to  which  a  younger 
brother  fell  victim.  Cayetano's  contribution  to  the  cause  was  the 
writing  of  patriotic  songs.  One,  generally  attributed  to  him, 
which  begins:  "Caraquenos,  otra  epoca  empieza"  became  so 
popular  that  it  was  sung  sotto  voce  in  the  streets  during  the 
time  when  any  form  of  revolutionary  propaganda  was  punish- 
able by  death.  It  long  remained  a  model  for  this  type  of  com- 
position. Cayetano  did  not  acquire  riches — he  was  paid  ninety 
pesetas  for  a  number  of  his  compositions  together — so  that  he 
found  it  expedient  to  teach,  supplementing  his  duties  as  organ- 
ist and  choir  director.  His  marriage  with  Maria  Madre  de  Jesus 
Munoz  brought  him  happiness  and  five  children,  only  one  of 
whom,  Manuel  Antonio,  father  of  Teresita,  inherited  musical 
talent.  Cayetano  died  on  the  third  of  March,  1836,  beloved  and 
revered  by  all.  Taking  leave  of  his  family,  he  exhorted  them  to 
virtue  and  high  thinking.  His  ashes  lie  in  the  crypt  of  the 
chapel  erected  in  the  Cathedral  to  the  honor  of  Our  Lady  of 
Pilar,  an  honor  usually  accorded  only  to  priests  who  had  be- 
come Deans  of  the  Cathedral. 

Two  brothers  could  not  be  more  different  than  Cayetano  and 
Simon  Carreno,  eight  years  his  junior,  chiefly  remembered  for 
his  decisive  influence  upon  the  young  Bolivar  as  his  tutor.  He 
was  an  independent  and  erratic  idealist,  and  a  versatile  one, 
with  flashes  of  real  vision  that  approached  genius.  The  change- 


TERESA  CARRENO  17 

ling  in  a  devout,  well-ordered  family  group,  restless  and  at 
odds  with  his  father,  he  decided  to  take  another  name,  that  of 
his  mother.  To  history  thereafter  he  is  known  as  Simon  Ro- 
driguez, which  is  not,  however,  the  last  appellation  of  his  choos- 
ing. Revolutionary  ideas  imported  from  France  found  ready 
echo  in  this  intelligent  young  eccentric.  He  became  involved  in 
the  uprising  of  Gual  y  Espana  and  in  1797  was  forced  to  flee 
from  Venezuela  to  the  English  Antilles.  There  his  imagina- 
tion was  profoundly  stirred  by  his  own  isolation  and  by  read- 
ing Robinson  Crusoe  whom  he  admired  as  the  only  true  demo- 
crat. In  homage  he  called  himself,  at  least  temporarily,  Samuel 
Robinson.  Later  in  Europe  he  learned  various  languages  easily, 
visited  France,  Germany,  and  Austria,  and  made  friends  with 
men  of  learning  and  science,  drawn  to  him  by  the  magnetic 
warmth  of  his  nature  and  his  flaring  intellect.  In  Vienna  he 
again  chanced  upon  Bolivar  in  despair  over  the  death  of  his 
young  wife  of  less  than  a  year.  One  of  Simon's  darts  of  in- 
spiration made  him  recognize  his  pupil  for  the  genius  that  he 
was  and  see  in  him  the  future  liberator  of  Venezuela.  Simon 
Rodriguez  was  a  promoter,  a  philosopher  ahead  of  his  time,  not 
a  man  of  great  courage  or  action.  But  without  the  force  of  his 
personality  Bolivar  might  never  have  come  alive  to  his  mission. 
After  months  of  indulgence  in  the  most  extreme  pleasures, 
meant  to  dull  the  edge  of  grief,  the  two  friends  arrived  in 
Rome.  There  in  the  dramatic  scene  on  the  Monte  Sacro  that 
has  so  often  been  the  subject  of  painting  and  description,  Boli- 
var swore  before  his  mentor  to  devote  his  life  to  the  freeing  of 
Venezuela  from  Spanish  domination.  Bolivar's  greater  vision 
made  his  purposes  reach  even  further.  As  for  Simon  Rodriguez, 
the  oath  of  the  sacred  mountain  was  his  great  moment,  his 
claim  to  glory.  For  a  time  he  wandered,  absorbing  the  ideas  of 
Rousseau.  Returning  to  South  America  in  1823  he  felt  tempted 
to  apply  them  as  a  teacher.  When  he  went  so  far  as  to  appear 
in  his  classroom  completely  unclothed,  he  so  shocked  the  par- 
ents of  his  pupils  that  he  was  obliged  to  withdraw.  Improvident 
and  impulsive  as  a  hummingbird,  he  died  poverty-stricken  in 


18  TERESA  CARRENO 

a  tiny  Peruvian  village,  Ametape,  in  whose  church  he  lies 
buried.  Years  after  his  death  his  last  erratic  wish  served  to 
identify  his  coffin.  He  had  asked  to  be  buried  in  sitting  posture. 

In  Manuel  Antonio,  Cayetano's  son,  artistic  inheritance  was 
very  satisfactorily  blended  with  more  practical  qualities.  Well 
educated,  well  mannered,  and  well  groomed,  he  was  something 
of  a  perfectionist.  That  he  escaped  being  a  stickler  for  the 
unimportant  was  due  to  his  wide  intellectual  interests,  and  to 
his  sense  of  affectionate  obligation  to  his  fellow  men.  Every 
mention  of  him  is  qualified  by  the  words  "distinguished  gen- 
tleman." But  he  was  ambitious,  too  ambitious  to  content  him- 
self with  a  profession  in  which  he  could  hope  for  neither  ad- 
vancement nor  wealth.  A  political  career  seemed  to  promise 
both,  and,  moreover,  that  higher  social  rating  which  he  coveted 
before  all  on  his  wife's  account. 

In  the  days  of  Columbus  records  attest  that  the  Toros  were 
notable  hidalgos  and  ancient  Christians,  that  among  them  were 
knights  who  owned  horses,  founded  towns,  and  inherited  prop- 
erty, flaunting  as  their  crest  a  golden  bull  upon  a  field  of  scar- 
let. A  royal  grant  conferred  upon  the  family  the  hereditary  title 
of  Marques  in  1732.  Rodriguez,  third  Marques  del  Toro,  was 
known  as  Bolivar's  fast  friend  and  not-too-successful  general. 
He  was  the  ideal  type  of  Spanish  aristocrat  with  democratic 
leanings  and  readily  identified  himself  with  the  ideas  of  the 
Criollo  class,  whom  Bolivar  called  "stepchildren  of  our  race" 
or  "idle  slaveholders,  themselves  slaves  under  the  laws  of 
Spain."  He  seemed  a  real  menace  in  the  royalist  fold.  Suspicion 
rested  upon  him.  Yet  he  was  one  of  the  few  who  found  it  worth 
while  to  keep  his  title  to  the  end.  On  his  estate  in  the  Aragua 
valley  he  held  miniature  court.  Alexander  von  Humboldt  tells 
of  the  unforgettable  hours  spent  there  "in  a  corner  of  the  earth 
like  Paradise:  and  such  refinement  of  living!  Such  sensitive, 
hospitable  people!" 

Clorinda  Garcia  de  Sena  y  Toro,  niece  of  Bolivar's  unfortu- 
nate wife  and  niece  also  of  Rodriguez  del  Toro,  was  the  daugh- 
ter of  two  famous  revolutionary  strains.  She  had  undoubtedly, 


Oh 


<3 


TERESA  CARRENO  19 

in  the  estimation  of  her  family  and  friends,  taken  a  long  step 
downward  when  she  married  the  son  of  a  professional  man. 
Cold  and  formal  by  nature — her  children  might  no  more  than 
kiss  her  hand — she  laid  weight  upon  external  graces  and  ma- 
terial rewards.  The  former  had  drawn  her  to  the  less  wealthy, 
less  noble  Manuel  Antonio.  For  material  rewards  she  could 
only  hope.  The  insecurity  of  banking  and  politics  in  Venezuela 
had  played  havoc  with  the  fortunes  of  the  Toros  as  with  others. 
Of  course  Clorinda  readily  approved  the  choice  of  a  career  for 
her  husband  that  might  in  time  restore  her  to  the  station  and 
affluence  in  keeping  with  del  Toro  tradition.  When  Manuel  An- 
tonio succeeded  in  obtaining  the  portfolio  of  Minister  of  Fi- 
nance, the  choice  seemed  completely  justified. 

The  home  of  the  Carrenos,  now  replaced  by  the  offices  of  a 
shipping  line,  became  a  meeting  place  for  artists,  scientists,  and 
diplomats.  A  letter  to  the  Carrenos  was  the  best  of  introduc- 
tions for  a  newcomer  in  Caracas.  Music  in  one  form  or  an- 
other might  be  counted  upon  during  any  evening.  The  foun- 
tain in  the  patio  splashed  its  liquid  obbligato  to  Spanish  dances, 
operatic  arias,  and  even  to  Manuel  Antonio's  "La  Fleur  du 
Desert"  with  its  too  sweet  melody  smothered  in  ornamental 
passages  of  considerable  difficulty.  Yes,  Manuel  Antonio  and 
Clorinda  had  every  reason  to  be  satisfied  in  their  well-ordered 
household,  and  their  peaceful,  if  not  entirely  heart-warming, 
family  life.  However,  Venezuela,  the  incalculable,  whether 
through  the  natural  upheaval  of  earthquakes  or  through  the 
less  natural  one  of  revolutions,  sooner  or  later  was  sure  to  up- 
set the  apparently  most  secure  state  of  being. 


Emilia,  the  first  daughter,  was  about  eight  years  of  age  when 
on  the  twenty-second  of  December,  1853,  another  little  girl  was 
born  to  Manuel  Antonio  and  Clorinda.  They  called  her  Maria 
Teresa,  a  name  not  infrequent  in  the  family  genealogy.  Per- 
haps, according  to  a  popular  superstition  in  Venezuela,  it  was 
a  pianist  who  first  cut  her  fingernails  and  then  buried  the  par- 
ings in  the  earth.  In  any  case,  this  baby,  welcomed  with  glad- 
ness usual  in  a  country  where  childhood  to  this  day  remains  a 
cult,  was  the  unconscious  climax  of  generations  of  musicians, 
the  predestined  bearer  of  the  stern  obligation  of  genius. 

When  the  baby  was  less  than  a  year  old,  friends  noticed  that 
she  kept  time  to  music  with  her  head  and  her  hands,  that  she 
loved  toys  that  made  pretty  noises,  that  she  listened  in  absorbed 
silence  while  music  was  being  played.  It  so  excited  her  that  she 
would  sit  up  in  her  crib  next  to  the  salon  with  her  eyes  wide 
open  until  it  stopped.  She  began  to  sing  before  she  could  talk, 
and  as  soon  as  she  could  walk,  she  danced.  At  the  age  of  two 
she  was  heard  to  give  a  fairly  accurate  idea  of  Bellini's  famous 
aria  from  Lucia,  "Bel  Alma  Innamorata,"  in  a  sweet,  true  voice. 
Teresita  was  a  friendly,  happy,  and  healthy  child.  She  told 
stories  to  the  dolls  that  she  loved  beyond  everything  and  sang 
them  to  sleep  at  night  as  she  did  her  baby  brother  Manuel, 
upon  whom  for  a  time  family  interest  centered. 

There  were  two  pianos  in  the  salon.  The  grand,  Teresita  was 
not  permitted  to  touch.  The  keys  of  the  upright  she  could 
barely  reach  standing.  That  was  her  piano.  When  Manuel  An- 
tonio showed  her  how  to  find  thirds,  she  discovered  other  com- 
binations that  pleased  her  for  herself,  playing  them  over  and 
over.  Soon  she  began  to  reproduce  familiar  melodies  on  the 
keyboard.  One  night  there  was  music  in  the  salon  next  to 
Teresita's  bedroom.  The  nurse  had  drawn  the  filmy  white  cur- 
tains of  the  crib  close,  and  had  left  the  child,  as  she  thought, 
asleep.  She  had  forgotten  that  Teresita  was  almost  a  profes- 
sional in  the  art  of  pretending.  On  this  particular  evening  she 
was  enchanted  by  a  "Varsovienne"  that  some  friends  were 


TERESA  CARRENO  21 

playing  for  Emilia.  The  next  morning  her  first  thought  was  to 
try  it  herself.  The  melody  she  managed  easily,  and,  with  a  little 
effort,  all  the  chords  but  one.  Just  as  she  had  found  the  missing 
tone  needed  to  complete  a  seventh  chord,  her  father  entered 
to  help  Emilia,  so  he  expected,  with  her  difficulty.  Totally  un- 
prepared to  find  four-year-old  Teresita  at  the  keyboard,  he 
burst  into  tears.  Teresita  immediately  made  it  a  melancholy 
duet.  "Don't  cry,  Papa,  I'll  never  do  it  again,"  she  sobbed,  a 
promise  that  fortunately  she  did  not  keep. 

Manuel  Antonio  was  a  good  psychologist  and  an  equally 
good  pedagogue.  Very  wisely  he  left  Teresita  to  her  own  de- 
vices. At  the  age  of  five  she  had  taught  herself  to  play  dances 
with  easy  left-hand  accompaniment.  For  her  dolls  and  her 
friends  she  enjoyed  improvising  what  she  called  operas.  Mean- 
while the  father,  methodical  in  everything,  and  urged  on  by 
his  daughter's  evident  ambition,  made  a  set  of  500  exercises, 
covering  all  the  technical  and  rhythmical  difficulties  that  a 
pianist  might  be  apt  to  encounter.  Shortly  after  Teresita's  sixth 
birthday  lessons  began  in  earnest.  Gradually  she  learned  how 
to  play  the  exercises  so  that  she  could  work  through  them  all  in 
rotation  every  three  days,  playing  them  in  any  key  she  chose. 
Czerny  and  Bertini  "Etudes,"  Bach's  "Inventions"  and  "Little 
Preludes"  lent  variety.  To  her  practice  she  devoted  two  hours 
in  the  morning  and  two  in  the  afternoon  with  the  same  spirit 
of  playful  concentration  that  she  lavished  on  her  dolls.  Soon 
she  found  herself  easily  overcoming  the  obstacles  in  Thalberg's 
Norma  fantasia.  In  five  days  she  had  made  it  her  own.  One  of 
her  daily  duties  consisted  of  ten  minutes  spent  in  reading  music 
at  sight,  an  accomplishment  in  which  she  acquired  amazing 
facility.  Manuel  Antonio  knew  how  to  fire  his  daughter's  am- 
bition. Pointing  to  a  certain  exercise  he  would  say:  "Teresita,  I 
know  that  you  can  play  this  study  in  the  key  of  C;  that  is  easy. 
But  I  don't  believe  that  you  can  play  it  in  the  key  of  B;  that 
would  be  too  much  to  expect  of  such  a  little  girl."  The  hint  was 
enough  to  make  Teresita  determine  to  achieve  the  impossible. 
The  next  day  she  not  only  played  the  exercise  in  B,  but  on 


22  TERESA  CARRENO 

through  other  keys.  Transposing  her  pieces  became  a  favorite 
game.  Somtimes  she  improvised  so  interestingly  that  her  fa- 
ther took  down  the  melodies  on  paper  as  she  played.  He  had 
been  carefully  taught  by  Cayetano  and  was  by  far  the  most 
accomplished  amateur  musician  in  the  city.  However,  it  did  not 
take  him  long  to  discover  that  he  was  being  outdistanced  by  his 
daughter.  So  a  professional  pianist,  Julius  Hohenus,  was  found 
to  supplement  his  teaching.  It  was  he  who  first  made  Teresita 
acquainted  with  works  of  Mendelssohn  and  Chopin. 

In  everything  but  music  Teresita  was  a  normal  child.  The 
social  distinctions  upon  which  her  father  so  punctiliously  in- 
sisted did  not  exist  for  her.  Her  imagination  was  fertile  for 
mischief.  One  night  the  parents  were  entertaining  with  cus- 
tomary formality  at  dinner.  Teresita  noticed  the  shiny  row  of 
top  hats  neatly  placed,  each  on  its  own  peg,  in  the  hall.  It  oc- 
curred to  her  that  they  would  be  set  off  to  much  greater  ad- 
vantage by  the  bushes  in  the  patio.  She  took  infinite  pains  to 
distribute  them  effectively,  until  they  looked  like  sleek  black 
crows  perched  there  for  solemn  conference,  and  together  with 
an  old  servant  who  was  always  delighted  to  second  her  plans, 
she  hid  in  the  background,  laughing  to  see  the  distinguished 
gentlemen  picking  out  their  property  from  the  branches. 

On  another  occasion  Teresita  confided  to  this  same  old  re- 
tainer, whose  duty  it  was  to  accompany  Teresita  to  a  class  she 
attended  in  a  private  school,  that  she  meant  to  give  a  party.  The 
refreshments  would  be  his  problem,  the  entertainment  hers. 
In  the  classroom  she  rose,  and  imitating  in  unconscious  carica- 
ture the  manner  of  her  father,  she  asked  in  the  name  of  her 
parents  that  her  friends  bring  their  fathers  and  mothers  to  her 
home  on  the  next  evening  for  some  music.  She  did  not  con- 
sider it  necessary  to  prepare  her  parents.  On  the  appointed  night 
Manuel  and  Clorinda  were  sipping  after-dinner  coffee  in  the 
patio.  A  few  callers  began  to  appear,  then  more  and  more,  un- 
til there  could  be  no  question  of  mere  coincidence.  First  the 
mother,  then  the  father,  retired  to  change  into  more  suitable 
attire.  Refreshments  were  ordered  and  miraculously  appeared. 


TERESA  CARRENO  23 

Teresita  darted  about,  playing  hostess  in  miniature,  not  caring 
that  there  were  gathered  in  her  home  that  evening  people  who 
for  political  reasons  should  never  have  been  asked  together. 
Called  upon  for  music,  she  proceeded  to  do  her  part  with  utter 
enjoyment,  better  than  ever  before.  Both  parents  rose  to  the 
occasion  to  make  the  evening  as  successful  as  it  was  unexpected 
on  their  part.  After  the  last  guest  had  departed  at  a  very  late 
hour  the  dreaded  question  could  no  longer  be  avoided.  "Who 
was  responsible  for  this?"  thundered  Manuel  Antonio.  Teresita 
trembled.  The  tone  of  voice  promised  no  good  for  the  unhappy 
originator.  "I  did,"  admitted  a  whisper.  Abruptly  Manuel  An- 
tonio turned  his  back,  and  with  boundless  relief  his  daughter 
saw  that  his  shoulders  were  shaking. 

Manuel  Antonio  had  a  small  income  from  a  book  he  had 
been  tempted  to  write  in  moments  of  leisure  before  Teresita 
claimed  them  all.  He  longed  to  make  Venezuela  a  safe  and 
happy  place  to  live  in,  and  realized  that  more  than  an  honest, 
forward-looking  political  system  was  needed  to  achieve  this 
purpose.  With  that  meticulous  thoroughness  characteristic  of 
him,  and  under  the  sign  of  Silvio  Pellico's  motto:  "To  rest 
from  the  honorable  task  of  being  good,  refined,  and  courteous 
there  is  no  more  time  than  that  devoted  to  sleep,"  he  wrote  a 
work  of  nearly  four  hundred  pages,  closely  printed,  on  good 
behavior.  This  appeared  under  the  title  of 

Manual  of  Civility  and  Good  Manners  for  the  use  of  the  youth 
of  both  sexes;  in  which  are  encountered  the  principal  rules  of 
politeness  and  etiquette  which  should  be  observed  in  manifold  social 
situations,  preceded  by  a  short  treatise  on  the  moral  obligations  of 
man. 

This  book  found  wide  circulation  in  Spanish-American  coun- 
tries at  once.  Generations  of  school  children  have  memorized, 
if  not  in  all  cases  assimilated,  the  rules  of  this  Earl  of  Chester- 
field of  Venezuela.  Even  today  the  book  may  be  bought  by 
simply  asking  for  "El  Carreno."  Manuel  Antonio  read  pro- 


24  TERESA  CARRENO 

fusely  on  his  subject  in  the  works  of  his  predecessors  in  many 
countries,  and  found  himself  in  full  agreement  with  them,  that 
true  aristocracy  is  of  the  spirit,  that  there  can  be  no  question  of 
fine  manners  without  the  basis  of  knowing  and  observing  the 
laws  of  moral  obligation  whose  source  is  the  Bible.  From  this 
universal  implication  of  duty  toward  the  Deity,  toward  one's 
fellow  man,  and  toward  oneself  the  book  narrows  down  to  the 
rules  of  daily  behavior  in  infinite  and  often  amusing  detail. 
Caracas  with  its  mixture  of  race,  caste,  and  color,  needed  a 
pioneer  for  the  weekly  bath,  the  moderate  beard,  the  personal 
face  towel,  and  the  toothbrush.  Carreno  spared  himself  and 
his  readers  no  sanitary  detail,  even  warning  those  who  share 
bedrooms  with  others  against  the  impoliteness  of  smoking 
when  "the  windows  are  closed  for  the  night." 

Expanding  from  the  particular  to  the  general,  "El  Carreno" 
reminds  us  that  life  is  very  short.  So  it  is  that  only  by  using 
time  with  the  utmost  economy  we  find  the  means  of  educating 
and  distinguishing  ourselves,  and  of  realizing  all  the  plans  that 
can  be  useful  to  us  and  to  society.  "But,"  he  adds,  perhaps  as 
a  special  warning  for  himself,  "let  us  keep  in  mind  that  excess 
in  method,  as  in  everything  else,  comes  to  be  an  evil  as  well." 

Disregarding  details  that  to  a  freer  generation  in  a  freer  land 
appear  irrelevant  and  fussy,  Carreno's  book  remains  the  sincere 
credo  of  a  high-thinking  man,  concerned  for  the  good  of  his 
country,  which  he  sees  threatened  by  the  impulsiveness  and 
instability  of  its  people.  Much  as  he  demands  that  the  indi- 
vidual sacrifice  his  own  interests  to  those  of  others,  of  the  state 
and  of  the  church,  he  nonetheless  insists  upon  respect  for  per- 
sonal dignity,  and,  believing  in  man's  perfectibility  as  of  de- 
termining importance  in  art  and  industry,  and  in  the  material 
and  moral  progress  of  his  country,  he  urges  him  on  to  new  and 
greater  effort. 

In  early  1862  solving  the  problem  of  the  right  musical  train- 
ing for  Teresita  was  more  urgent  to  Manuel  Antonio  than  even 
the  welfare  of  Venezuela.  Should  he  wait,  perhaps  for  the  rest 


TERESA  CARRENO  25 

of  his  life,  to  be  reinstated  in  the  Venezuelan  Cabinet,  while 
Clorinda,  dreaming  of  the  generous  living  on  the  hacienda  of 
her  childhood,  chafed  under  the  enforced  economy  so  foreign 
to  her  taste  ?  He  had  no  doubt  that  Teresita's  talent  was  worthy 
of  greater  stimulus  than  either  he  or  Julius  Hohenus  could 
provide.  She  should  measure  herself  against  a  more  exacting 
scale  of  standards,  hear  better  music,  better  playing.  For  Caracas 
she,  the  spoiled  darling  of  completely  undiscriminating  friends, 
had  already  arrived  at  a  climax.  Was  not  one  of  her  composi- 
tions publicly  performed  by  a  band  of  professional  musicians, 
and  did  not  the  daily  papers  erupt  with  long  columns  of  ex- 
travagant praise,  wherever  this  little  girl  was  heard? 

One  listener  felt  moved  to  give  his  impressions  of  such  an 
affair  in  an  article  published  by  El  Buen  Senrido.  On  this  eve- 
ning Teresita  was  operatically  inclined.  One  after  another  she 
played  arrangements  of  melodies  from  Lucia,  I  Puritani,  and 
Norma.  The  effect  was  so  electrifying  that  the  writer  spent  a 
sleepless  night  in  consequence.  Just  for  the  fun  of  it  Teresita 
would  turn  phrases  upside  down,  change  a  fortissimo  to  a 
whisper,  correcting,  improving,  or  just  playing  musical  jokes 
on  her  audience.  Then  jumping  down  from  her  piano  stool 
with  a  very  definite  "aqui  no  hay  nada  de  eso"  just  then  her 
pet  phrase,  she  would  turn  to  the  really  serious  business  of  un- 
dressing her  doll,  ascending  her  pedestal  again  later  of  her 
own  free  will  to  improvise  on  a  given  theme  or  on  some  fan- 
tastic idea  invented  by  herself.  One  of  these  arguments  lasted 
for  three  quarters  of  an  hour.  The  listener  asked  himself,  "Who 
taught  this  child  the  silence  of  midnight  with  its  sombre  and 
religious  majesty,  the  fury  of  the  enraged  sea,  the  sinister  noise 
of  battle,  conjugal  love,  maternal  tenderness,  the  feeling  of  cold 
terror?  Where  did  she  learn  to  understand  the  human  heart?" 
Sometimes  she  talked  on  without  understanding  the  meaning 
of  the  words.  For  instance  she  began  to  illustrate  a  story  at  the 
piano.  It  started:  "A  youth  loved  a  maiden.  .  .  ."  For  a  mo- 
ment she  hesitated,  then  asked  her  father:  "What  is  it  to  be 
in  love?"  Not  until  the  answer  satisfied  her  would  she  go  on 


26  TERESA  CARRENO 

with  the  intricacies  of  her  "opera."  In  the  words  of  the  writer: 
"At  times  she  held  to  mezzotints — a  really  vague  twilight,  a 
point  between  being  and  not  being,  truths  that  deceive,  lies  that 
promise." 

After  that  someone  gave  Teresita  a  strangely  sophisticated 
plot  to  interpret.  Completely  unfazed,  she  evoked  the  mezzo- 
tints remarked  by  the  writer  of  the  article.  "It  was  the  perfect 
expression  of  hope  without  trust,  of  happiness  without  under- 
standing, of  wishing  in  which  both  confidence  and  doubt  took 
part.  Never  before  have  I  seen  something  become  and  be  per- 
fect all  at  the  same  time." 

Meanwhile  Fate,  shaking  her  kaleidoscope,  was  on  the  point 
of  transforming  the  regular  pattern,  by  which  the  Carrenos 
ordered  their  living,  into  a  new  and  frightening  one.  Long  con- 
ferences were  being  held  at  the  hacienda  of  pioneer-spirited 
Grandmother  Gertrudis,  a  del  Toro  unmolested  by  the  demon 
of  ancestral  pride.  Without  the  wisdom  of  her  counsel  no  de- 
cision of  importance  was  reached  within  the  family  circle.  More 
forward-looking  than  Clorinda,  she  felt  in  closer  sympathy 
with  her  son-in-law  than  with  this  daughter,  whose  mouth  was 
already  set  in  drooping  lines  of  disenchantment.  As  soon  as 
Grandmother  Gertrudis  was  convinced  that  for  the  sake  of 
Teresita's  future  the  family  must  be  transplanted  to  another 
land,  she  volunteered  to  sell  her  property  to  make  the  journey 
possible.  Moreover,  suddenly  possessed  by  a  youthful  urge  for 
adventure,  she  had  no  intention  of  being  left  behind.  Prepara- 
tions could  not  go  ahead  fast  enough  for  her.  To  add  to  the 
confusion  of  packing  and  of  farewell  parties,  as  well  as  to 
Clorinda's  reluctance  to  leave  home,  Emilia,  not  yet  sixteen,  in- 
sisted upon  staying  in  Caracas  to  marry  her  first  cousin.  In  par- 
tial compensation,  Manuel  Antonio's  brother,  Juan  de  la  Cruz 
Carreno,  doubly  a  member  of  the  family  through  his  marriage 
with  Maria  Teresa,  Clorinda's  sister,  resolved  to  join  the  ex- 
pedition with  his  wife  and  baby,  Gertrudis.  This  was  further 
augmented  by  five  faithful  servants,  former  slaves  freed  by  the 


TERESA  CARRENO  27 

grandmother  on  the  day  of  Teresita's  birth,  one  an  old  woman 
who  had  been  her  personal  maid  since  the  age  of  twelve. 

On  the  morning  of  July  23, 1862,  a  group  of  fourteen  strangely 
assorted  travelers,  ranging  in  age  from  one  to  seventy-five,  jogged 
over  one  of  the  most  majestic  and  terrifying  of  roads,  zigzagging 
down  through  solemn,  naked,  almost  unpeopled  country,  on 
one  side  cliffs  that  shaded  from  terra  cotta  to  rust,  dotted  with 
scraggly  trees  of  unhealthy-looking  green,  and  on  the  other 
abysmal  precipices  at  once  repellent  and  magnetic.  After  end- 
less meandering  there  opened  before  the  little  company,  al- 
ready attacked  by  homesickness  and  dread  of  the  unknown,  a 
vista  of  reassuring  blue,  growing  deeper  as  the  road  sank  to 
the  level  of  the  calm  Caribbean  at  the  port  of  La  Guaira. 

From  there  they  embarked  at  once  to  visit  relatives  at  Puerto 
Cabello,  an  overnight  journey  westward  along  the  South  Amer- 
ican coast.  Teresita's  fame  had  preceded  her.  Night  after  night 
friends  were  invited  to  hear  her  play.  When  her  infallible  mem- 
ory had  exhausted  its  store,  she  drew  upon  her  imagination 
with  matching  success.  It  was  an  impressive  escort  of  new  con- 
verts that  gathered  to  watch  the  barca  Joseph  Maxwell  fade 
slowly  out  of  sight  on  the  morning  of  August  1  bound  for 
Philadelphia.  Off  the  coast  of  Santo  Domingo,  on  the  name  day 
of  that  Saint,  a  hurricane  gave  the  adventurers  anxious  mo- 
ments. Twenty-three  days  later  a  much  subdued  band  found 
harbor  at  last.  Sheer  exhaustion  called  for  a  week  of  recupera- 
tion before  proceeding  to  New  York,  the  real  objective. 

Once  there,  the  Carrenos  were  not  entirely  derelict.  Acquaint- 
ances who  had  enjoyed  their  hospitality  in  Caracas  retaliated 
in  kind.  That  in  North  America,  too,  there  was  fighting  among 
brothers,  was  not  especially  disturbing  to  Venezuelans.  If  any- 
thing it  helped  to  make  them  feel  at  home.  So  in  a  furnished 
house  on  Second  Avenue,  a  quarter  approved  by  polite  society, 
yet  within  their  means,  the  travelers  settled  down  without  de- 
lay. The  fading  dignity  of  Knickerbocker  days  gave  it  a  touch 
of  formality,  to  which  the  Carrenos  naturally  responded.  Even 


28  TERESA  CARRENO 

Teresita  felt  reassured.  Her  great  worry  had  been  that  an 
English-speaking  God  might  not  understand  the  Spanish  prayers 
of  a  little  girl  from  South  America.  It  was  exciting  to  them 
all  to  be  a  part  of  the  noisy  current  of  life  in  the  busiest  city  of 
the  new  world,  hard  as  it  was  to  adjust  themselves  to  earlier 
rising  and  longer  days  of  work.  After  the  war,  when  he  had 
become  more  familiar  with  the  English  language,  Manuel  An- 
tonio meant  to  give  piano  lessons.  Meanwhile  Teresita  and  her 
little  brother  were  sent  to  a  private  school  standing  in  the  spot 
now  occupied  by  Wanamaker's  store.  The  burning  problem 
was  to  find  the  right  teacher  for  Teresita. 

The  pianist  of  the  hour  was  the  great  Louis  Moreau  Gott- 
schalk.  War  had  not  kept  him  from  playing  day  after  day  to 
crowded  houses  from  coast  to  coast,  in  solo  recital  at  that,  and 
on  that  most  brittle  of  instruments,  the  piano.  A  child  of  Loui- 
siana, he  reaped  his  first  laurels  in  France.  In  New  York  that, 
even  then,  was  a  talking  point  in  his  favor.  Berlioz  heard  him 
and  wrote:  "He  is  a  consummate  musician;  he  knows  how  far 
in  expression  imagination  may  go;  he  knows  the  limit  beyond 
which  liberties  taken  in  rhythm  only  produce  disorder  and  con- 
fusion ;  and  these  limits  he  never  transcends."  Victor  Hugo  was 
equally  eloquent  in  his  praise.  Other  less  discriminating  critics 
endowed  him  with  the  power  of  Liszt,  the  correctness  of  Thal- 
berg,  and  the  expression  of  Chopin  himself.  Fiorentino,  the 
critic  of  he  Corsaire,  closed  the  subject  with  these  words: 
"Apres  Gottschal\  il  jaut  tirer  Vechelle."  Teresa  Carreno  many 
years  later  remembered  that  his  playing  was  like  zephyrs  sigh- 
ing on  a  poet's  harp,  that  none  approached  him  in  his  trill.  And 
that  was  the  opinion  of  one  whose  own  trilling  left  whole 
audiences  gasping  with  unbelief. 

To  New  York  Gottschalk  became  romance  personified.  His 
love  affairs  were  pleasant  scandal  over  the  teacups,  the  envy  of 
the  most  fastidious  debutantes.  New  York  delighted  in  his 
mannerisms,  and  applauded  wildly  when  he  seated  himself  at 
the  piano,  lazily  drawing  off  his  glove  and  running  his  fingers 


TERESA  CARRENO  29 

over  the  keyboard  in  prelude,  as  if  dusting  it.  He  had  a  melan- 
choly air  a  little  at  odds  with  a  trimly  pointed  mustache  and 
an  impeccably  tailored  suit,  and  he  was  apt  to  play  with  his 
head  thrown  back — and  often  with  a  cigar  in  his  mouth — non- 
chalantly pretending  to  be  alone  with  himself,  to  the  hysterical 
joy  of  the  listeners  he  treated  so  highhandedly. 

To  have  Gottschalk  hear  Teresita  became  Manuel  Antonio's 
dream.  How  could  it  be  brought  about?  Among  his  friends 
were  some  who  had  known  the  master  well  in  Cuba.  But  Gott- 
schalk was  known  to  be  wary  of  prodigies.  There  was  faint 
hope.  Meanwhile  the  musical  evenings  of  Caracas  were  dupli- 
cated in  a  new  setting.  Friends  brought  critics  and  amateurs  to 
hear  the  little  genius  of  the  tropics.  Her  name  penetrated  ar- 
tistic circles  by  the  grapevine  telegraph  of  hearsay.  Invitations 
to  the  soirees  on  Second  Avenue  were  seldom  refused.  They  re- 
ceived more  than  casual  mention  in  papers  and  journals.  It  was 
Teresita's  extemporizing  that  drew  forth  the  most  comment. 

An  editor  of  the  New  York  Illustrated  News  tells  of  such  an 
evening: 

We  have  heard  her  at  her  father's  residence  play  the  most  delicious 
concerted  music  which  she  composes  as  she  goes  along.  On  one 
occasion  she  offered  to  compose  an  opera  for  me  which  at  once 
showed  her  great  power  and  her  childlike  simplicity.  She  com- 
menced with  an  overture,  and  introduced  a  little  girl  as  heroine  of 
the  play.  After  some  fine  music  for  the  soprano,  came  a  young  man 
who  made  love  to  her,  but  he  was  not  in  favor  with  Papa.  So  an- 
other young  man  makes  love  to  her,  and  he  is  rejected.  The  young 
men  meet,  and  as  neither  can  marry  her,  they  resolve  to  kill  her. 
They  come  upon  the  little  girl  who  is  dreadfully  frightened,  and 
seeing  death  before  her,  commences  a  prayer  which  we  think  one 
of  the  most  feeling  bits  of  music  we  have  ever  listened  to,  strong 
and  original.  The  Papa  comes  just  in  time  to  prevent  the  murder. 
And  then  she  was  perplexed  to  know  what  disposition  to  make  of 
her  characters.  Suddenly  her  face  lit  up  with  a  happy  thought.  "Oh, 
I  know,  Father!  I  think  the  little  girl  had  better  go  home  to  her 
Mamma."  She  sprang  from  the  piano  stool,  and  seizing  a  great 


30  TERESA  CARRENO 

doll  that  had  been  presented  to  her  at  one  of  her  concerts,  com- 
menced squeezing  it  to  make  it  cry,  screaming  with  delight  at  the 
result. 

Mr.  J.  G.  Maeder,  composer  and  professor  of  the  pianoforte, 
also  heard  Teresita  play  at  home.  He  reported  that 

she  is  very  lively  and  childlike  and  received  her  visitors  with  perfect 
ease  and  gracefulness.  .  .  .  First  she  played  a  nocturne  of  her  own, 
then  an  elaborate  composition,  uniting  at  one  time  no  less  than 
three  separate  themes.  She  attacked  Norma  with  great  spirit  and 
immense  power,  work  enough  for  four  hands,  not  to  say  two,  and 
those  a  child's. 

Another  writer,  who  calls  himself  "Amphion,"  noticed  the 
slightly  inclined  curves  in  her  forehead  and  her  peculiar  smile. 

Even  when  her  mouth  is  full  of  it,  she  does  not  lavish  it  as  stupid 
people  do,  but  holds  it  back  like  a  thread  of  reflection,  recalls  it  at 
pleasure,  and  closes  her  lips  again.  This  control  over  her  smile  is 
the  indication  of  a  superior  spirit.  [He  notices]  the  certain  conscious- 
ness of  power,  a  dominating  quality,  and  the  mystery  in  her  eyes. 
The  space  between  her  eyebrows  opens  when  she  is  gay,  but  it 
closes  up  frequently,  a  rare  thing  at  this  age,  as  if  thereby  she  tried 
to  ignore  a  familiarity  that  hindered  her  thought. 

Wherever  Teresita  appeared  someone  was  sure  to  voice  the 
wish  that  she  might  be  more  generally  heard.  That  was  quite 
in  line  with  Teresita's  own  desires.  She  was  perpetually  teasing 
to  be  allowed  to  play  in  a  real  concert,  and  Manuel  Antonio 
was  himself  not  averse  to  putting  his  daughter  to  the  test  of 
a  private  recital,  admission  being,  of  course,  by  invitation  only. 

He  was  still  undecided  when  the  matter  was  taken  out  of 
his  hands  by  what  at  the  moment  seemed  the  greatest  possible 
personal  catastrophe,  nothing  less  than  the  sudden  death  of  the 
trusted  friend  who  was  administering  the  Carreno  property  in 
Caracas.  The  agreement  had  been  purely  verbal.  To  have  asked 
for  a  receipt  would  have  been  an  unpardonable  breach  of  con- 
fidence. While  the  whole  family  was  still  in  desolation  over 
this  misadventure,  it  became  evident  that  his  son  and  heir  was 


TERESA  CARRENO  31 

made  of  different  stuff.  He  pretended  to  know  nothing  about 
the  funds  that  had  been  placed  in  trust  with  his  father,  funds 
that  also  included  the  grandmother's  small  fortune,  and  he 
made  it  clear  that  he  would  assume  no  obligation  whatsoever 
for  future  remittances.  The  Carreno  household  was  in  conster- 
nation. The  money  in  the  combined  family  treasury  might  last 
a  month  with  the  rigid  economy  so  difficult  to  carry  out  effi- 
ciently in  a  foreign  land.  Intimate  friends  were  willing  to 
help.  But  against  this  the  pride  of  Spanish  and  Venezuelan  an- 
cestors revolted.  Taking  stock  of  their  resources,  it  was  found 
that  there  was  not  a  single  member  of  the  group  quickly  able 
in  this  emergency  to  earn  a  living  for  a  household  of  fourteen, 
always  excepting  a  little  girl  of  eight.  And  that,  of  course,  was 
out  of  the  question.  Even  supposing  she  were  able,  Clorinda 
never  would  consent  to  let  the  descendant  of  a  Marques  del 
Toro  play  in  public  for  money.  While  friends  were  clamoring, 
and  Teresita  was  begging  for  the  private  audition  that  had  been 
discussed,  Manuel  Antonio  still  vacillated.  Without  an  opinion 
other  than  his  own  he  dreaded  exposing  Teresita  to  the  cold 
criticism  of  New  York.  It  was  left  to  Fate  again  to  shake  her 
kaleidoscope. 

In  the  Carreno  circle  there  moved  a  certain  Simon  Camacho, 
a  writer  who  chose  to  publish  under  the  pen  name  of  "Naza- 
reno."  Urged  by  his  admiration  for  Teresita,  he  achieved  the 
impossible.  In  a  letter  written  in  Spanish  he  managed  to  awaken 
the  curiosity  of  Gottschalk,  and  the  meeting,  finally  consum- 
mated, could  be  described  in  no  more  telling  manner  than  by 
his  own  pen. 

In  August  I  wrote  the  following  letter  which,  scarcely  dry,  took 
wing  over  the  mountains : 

My  dear  Luis:  I  have  here  a  little  girl  of  eight  years  who  plays 
the  piano  like  T.  .  .  ,  I  will  not  say  like  "Te."  Would  you  like  to 
hear  her?  Come  soon!  She  is  your  affair,  and  I  should  be  sorry  if 
somebody  else  presented  her  to  you.  If  Mohamet  cannot  go  to  the 
mountain,  the  mountain  will  come  to  Mohamet.  One  word  from 
you  and  you  will  see  us  in  your  beautiful  Tebaide. 


32  TERESA  CARRENO 

Two  days  later  Gottschalk  appeared  in  New  York.  Could  he  have 
believed  me? 

"Here  I  am,"  said  he. "Thank  you,"  said  I. 

"Who  is  T.  .  .  ?" "  'Te'  is  the  accusative  of  Til'  " 

"But  the  child?"  "Let  us  go  to  see  her." 

"And  to  hear  her?" "As  you  choose." 

Luis  shook  his  head  in  sign  of  unbelief.  I  felt  as  I  suppose  John 
the  Baptist  did  when  he  announced  the  coming  of  the  Messiah. 
Prodigies  had  so  often  fooled  Gottschalk,  there  had  been  so  many 
Papas  and  Mammas  who  had  promised  to  show  him  marvels  in 
their  primogenitos  or  primogenitas,  geniuses  that  turned  out  to  be 
nothing  more  than  geniecitos  or  better  pergenios,  that  the  king  of 
the  piano  had  good  reason  for  being  sceptical.  "And  is  she  pretty?" 
he  asked. 

"So  lovable,  so  childlike!" 

We  left  and  soon  arrived.  The  piano  was  opened.  That  silence 
is  like  no  other. 

The  piano  had  sounded  for  some  minutes,  but  only  Gottschalk, 
in  my  opinion,  had  heard  it.  All  the  other  spectators  were  concen- 
trated on  one  object,  hanging  on  one  thought,  one  verdict,  one 
sentence  of  life  or  death. 

I  did  not  even  breathe,  except  perhaps  to  count.  This  scene  had 
in  it  something  very  moving;  you  heard  the  beating  of  the  heart 
of  a  mother;  you  saw  the  severe  expression  of  a  father  change  in 
the  agony  of  uncertainty. 

The  king  had  not  spoken,  but — 

I  remembered  the  story  of  the  bolero  dancers  accused  in  the  court 
of  Rome  for  the  freedom  of  their  motion.  When  least  it  might  be 
expected  the  judges,  in  spite  of  their  severity  and  the  prejudices  by 
which  they  were  dominated,  began  to  dance  to  the  sound  of  the 
castanuela. 

A  few  moments  only,  and  Gottschalk,  the  king  of  the  piano,  was 
beating  time  with  his  head  to  a  brilliant  fantasia  by  Thalberg, 
played  by  Teresa  Carreno. 

Kindred  geniuses  saluted  each  other.  The  sun  of  midday,  the 
sun  rising  in  the  east. 

One  second  more  and  the  word  "bravo"  escaped  from  the  lips 
of  Gottschalk.  Concerted  breathing,  suddenly  freed,  echoed  against 


TERESA  CARRENO  33 

the  walls  of  the  salon  covered  with  the  portraits  of  the  Knicker- 
bockers. 

Teresita  was  baptized  in  the  font  reserved  for  those  famous  in  art. 
Who  ever  had  a  greater  godfather? 

Gottschalk  kissed  her  upon  the  forehead,  and  this  kiss  was  the 
seal  of  approval  she  had  earned  from  the  great  maestro,  and  whidbu 
she  still  must  win  from  the  most  commercial  city  of  the  Americas. 

Somebody  may  think  perhaps  that  I  am  painting  for  my  own 
pleasure  an  imaginary  scene  into  which  truth  enters  for  very  little. 
I  do  not  care  to  do  so,  but  if  anyone  does  not  believe  me,  I  have 
the  means  of  proving  myself  honest. 

A  delicate  hint  had  sufficed  to  persuade  Gottschalk  to  second 
Teresita  in  an  elaborate  composition  for  four  hands.  Then  at  once, 
moved  by  an  irresistible  impulse,  the  king,  with  all  his  inspired 
enthusiasm,  with  all  the  feeling  and  fervor  of  which  only  passion 
that  has  been  stirred  is  capable,  began  to  play  himself.  It  was  the 
expression  of  gratitude  which  could  not  find  outlet  in  words,  and 
which  was  much  better  understood  in  tone  by  this  little  angel,  in 
whom  music  was  incarnate,  and  for  whom  harmonies  had  held 
meaning  before  reason.  When  Gottschalk  left  the  piano  the  blood 
seemed  to  rush  to  Teresita's  face,  the  beautiful  black  eyes  grew 
veiled  as  by  a  cloud,  and  all  at  once  she  fainted  [but  not  without 
first  registering  in  her  mind  certain  peculiarities  of  Gottschalk's 
fingering  and  pedaling,  according  to  her  great-aunt  Gertrudis]. 
Teresita  for  the  first  time  had  actually  heard  a  genius  play  as  she 
had  only  imagined  it  should  be  done.  Suddenly  she  experienced 
that  which  she  had  thought  impossible.  The  blow  was  too  strong 
for  her  childish  constitution.  Gottschalk's  greatness  had  affected 
her  as  if  she  were  a  lily  bent  double  by  a  hurricane. 

Her  great  friend,  a  Dr.  B.,  warned  the  father:  "Take  care,  great 
care  of  this  little  girl,  for  she  is  a  vial  filled  with  more  spirit  than 
it  is  naturally  supposed  to  contain,  and  an  explosion  might  result." 

The  trial  by  fire  had  proved  the  brilliant  butterfly  of  the 
Andes  worthy.  She  had  earned  the  right  to  try  her  wings  in 
larger  space.  Gottschalk  himself  urged  it.  Preparations  began  at 
once  for  the  private  audition  to  which  Manuel  Antonio  invited, 
besides  his  own  friends,  every  New  Yorker  prominent  in  music. 


34  TERESA  CARRENO 

Irving  Hall  (now  Irving  Place  theater)  was  the  setting.  It  had 
boxes  and  two  balconies,  seating  1,250  persons  in  all.  L.  F.  Har- 
rison lost  no  time.  In  making  the  contract  he  added  a  clause 
that  gave  him  exclusive  right  to  engage  Teresita  for  any  future 
performance  in  New  York  that  season  at  $50  per  concert.  It 
was  not  Manuel  Antonio's  intention  that  his  daughter  should 
become  a  professional  attraction  at  the  age  of  eight.  He  was  too 
far-sighted  to  overlook  the  fact  that  Teresita  needed  schooling, 
a  far  larger  repertoire,  and  the  teaching  that  Gottschalk  had 
promised  her,  whenever  he  should  happen  to  be  in  New  York. 
He  could  afford  to  disregard  that  clause  in  the  contract.  To  this 
his  brother,  the  lawyer,  agreed.  If  there  were  another  concert, 
the  $50  would  be  very  welcome;  if  not,  no  harm  was  done. 
Accordingly  the  date  was  set  for  the  afternoon  of  November 
7,  1862. 

Then  came  the  assembling  of  the  program.  Custom  required 
variety.  In  the  case  of  a  little  child  whose  reaction  to  her  first 
large  audience  was  not  to  be  foretold,  common  sense,  too, 
advised  it.  The  first  choice  as  assisting  artist  was  Theodore 
Thomas,  already  a  notable  violinist  in  solo  as  well  as  ensemble, 
and  at  the  very  outset  of  his  career  as  conductor.  The  first  time 
Teresita  had  played  for  him — it  had  been  the  Chopin  "Noc- 
turne in  E  flat" — he  had  burst  into  tears.  Teresita,  uncompre- 
hending, had  turned  to  her  father:  "What  is  that  man  crying 
for?"  Years  later,  when  she  heard  the  young  Josef  Hofmann, 
her  question  was  answered.  She  too  was  moved  in  the  same 
way. 

On  the  appointed  afternoon  the  hall  was  well  filled.  Tere- 
sita's  part  of  the  program  consisted  of  the  "Souvenirs"  from  // 
Trovatore  by  Goria,  "Grande  Fantaisie"  on  Norma  by  Thalberg, 
and  the  "Capriccio"  on  Hernani  by  Prudent,  composers  whose 
flourishes  have  been  outlived  by  the  operas  from  which  they 
borrowed  the  most  popular  tunes.  The  success  of  the  audition 
was  complete.  Face  to  face  with  an  unexplainable  phenomenon, 
the  audience  was  enraptured.  Teresita  was  in  her  element,  es- 


TERESA  CARRENO  35 

pecially  when  it  came  to  Gottschalk's  "Bananier,"  which  she 
had  just  memorized  in  two  days.  The  "Gottschalk  Waltz"  com- 
posed by  her  in  his  honor  on  the  very  day  of  their  first  meet- 
ing she  also  played  at  this  matinee  in  four-hand  arrangement 
with  her  father.  It  was  at  the  end  of  this  composition  that  the 
clapping  had  frightened  her  into  taking  shelter  behind  him. 

At  home  for  the  moment  calamity  was  forgotten  in  the 
happy  confusion  of  Teresita's  triumph.  Even  Clorinda,  the  un- 
demonstrative, allowed  the  corners  of  her  mouth  to  lift.  She 
quite  enjoyed  holding  court  in  reflected  and  silent  glory  among 
reporters,  with  whom  she  could  converse  only  in  the  language 
of  gesture  and  smile,  and  among  friends  who  could  give  such 
effusive  voice  to  their  enthusiasm  for  the  child  she  so  quietly 
yet  completely  loved.  It  was  the  uncle  who  had  to  tell  the  gen- 
tlemen of  the  Press  whatever  they  wanted  to  know,  how  much 
Teresita  practiced  a  day,  whether  she  were  healthy,  what  she 
liked  to  eat,  what  her  favorite  playthings  were. 

Excitement  rose  to  such  a  breath-taking  pitch  that  Manuel  An- 
tonio was  powerless  to  resist  longer.  He  found  himself  falling 
in  with  L.  F.  Harrison's  suggestion  that  Teresita  give  a  public 
concert.  The  date  was  set  for  November  25.  "I  shall  be  an  artist 
all  my  life,"  said  Teresita.  No  more  fervently  did  her  great- 
uncle,  Bolivar,  take  his  oath  on  the  Monte  Sacro. 

Ancestors  may  frown  their  darkest.  Their  part  is  played.  On 
her  inheritance  Teresa  Carreno  y  Toro  is  founding  a  truer,  rarer 
aristocracy. 

The  momentum  of  the  first  concert  produced  a  second  and 
then  a  third,  fourth,  and  fifth  in  close  succession. 

Gottschalk  in  Cincinnati  wrote  to  L.  F.  Harrison: 

I  am  really  delighted  that  you  are  doing  so  well.  Little  Teresa  seems 
according  to  what  I  see  in  the  paper  to  be  quite  the  furore  now. 
I  am  very  much  pleased  with  it.  She  is  not  only  a  wonderful  child, 
but  a  real  genius.  As  soon  as  I  am  in  New  York,  settled  down  and 
at  leisure,  I  intend  to  devote  myself  to  her  musical  instruction.  She 
must  be  something  great,  and  shall  be. 


36  TERESA  CARRENO 

There  was  another  Irving  Hall  concert  in  which  Teresita 
added  the  "Prayer"  from  Mo'ise  en  Egypte  to  her  repertoire. 
This  she  supplemented  with  Mendelssohn's  "Spring  Song." 
More  important  and  just  as  crowded  was  the  one  in  the  Acad- 
emy of  Music  in  Brooklyn,  the  Second  Philharmonic  Concert 
of  that  season.  In  it  Theodore  Thomas  appeared  as  conductor 
of  Beethoven's  "First  Symphony."  Mme.  Angri,  soprano,  and 
the  Teutonic  Choral  Society  assisted,  Teresita  of  course  being 
the  prime  attraction.  It  was  nearly  midnight  when,  obviously 
in  need  of  sleep,  she  finally  played  Thalberg's  "Variations  on 
Home  Sweet  Home." 

Another  concert  was  a  morning  affair  "attended  by  a  large 
assemblage,  many  of  whom  were  the  young  daughters  of  the 
best  families  not  yet  entered  into  society,  and  presenting  an 
appearance  fresh  as  spring  flowers." 

For  a  child  and  a  novice,  five  concerts  in  three  weeks  were 
enough,  decided  the  father.  The  insatiable  Mr.  Harrison  thought 
otherwise.  He  conceived  the  master  trick  of  his  career.  With 
his  usual  effrontery,  he  asked  Manuel  Antonio  to  give  him  a 
farewell  concert  on  Teresita's  ninth  birthday,  and  to  let  him 
call  it  a  benefit  for  her.  Manuel  Antonio,  not  realizing  to  what 
he  was  committing  himself,  politely  consented.  The  elated 
manager  outdid  himself  in  propaganda,  and  so  successfully  that 
the  Academy  of  Music,  a  hall  seating  more  than  3,000  people, 
was  filled  to  the  last  inch  of  standing  room.  Hundreds  were 
turned  away,  everybody  being  very  naturally  under  the  im- 
pression that  he  was  contributing  his  share  to  a  handsome 
birthday  present  for  the  child  who  so  lavishly  squandered  her 
gift  of  music. 

The  night  of  December  22  was  cold  and  windy,  the  audi- 
torium a  bare  and  draughty  place.  To  make  it  worse  the  heat- 
ing system  was  out  of  order.  From  the  beginning  the  tempera- 
ture slowly  began  to  sink  to  the  freezing  point.  The  first  rows 
of  chairs  and  the  stage — the  hall  was  designed  for  opera  rather 
than  for  concert — were  open  to  frigid  air  currents.  A  critic  re- 


TERESA  CARRENO  37 

ports  that  two  concerts  were  going  on  together,  one  consisting 
of  the  music  on  the  stage,  the  other  of  coughs  in  the  front 
rows.  Teresita  was  the  chief  victim,  and  who  but  Teresita 
could  have  held  for  three  hours  the  attention,  enthusiasm,  and 
applause  of  an  audience  martyred  by  cold?  This  child  of  the 
tropics  dressed  in  gauze  and  tarlatan  ignored  the  elements 
and  actually  raised  the  temperature  by  the  fire  of  her  playing, 
encouraging  by  her  example  Theodore  Thomas  and  her  other 
assistants  to  do  the  same.  The  only  thing  that  mattered  to  her 
was  that  there  were  new  pieces  on  the  program  that  night. 
Gottschalk's  "Last  Hope"  she  had  learned  in  a  day,  and  a 
capriccio  of  her  own  was  hurriedly  dictated  to  her  father  that 
very  morning.  Again  she  played  the  "Gottschalk  Waltz."  The 
papers  next  morning  declared  that  Teresita  had  never  been  in 
better  form.  But  of  the  tremendous  receipts  of  that  evening's 
concert  neither  father  nor  daughter  ever  saw  a  penny.  Even  the 
birthday  present  that  Mr.  Harrison  in  a  sheepish  moment  had 
promised  Teresita  was  not  forthcoming.  Manuel  Antonio's  in- 
convenient pride  kept  him  passive.  At  least  artistically  the  suc- 
cess was  unqualified.  Teresita  had  won  and  kept  her  laurels. 
New  York  was  hers.  The  way,  in  whichever  direction  she  cared 
to  travel,  was  paved. 


Among  her  listeners  in  a  New  York  recital  had  been  Robert  P. 
Haines  of  Boston.  To  him  the  stamp  of  New  York's  approval 
was  not  the  final  one.  Boston  was  the  musical  Athens.  New 
York  might  have  a  flair  for  the  musically  sensational;  Boston 
knew  what  was  musically  right.  It  was  due  to  his  prodding  that 
the  reluctant  father,  who  would  have  greatly  appreciated  a  few 
months  of  Southern  contemplation,  was  caught  once  more  in 
the  whirl  of  the  land  whose  motto  was:  "Make  hay  while  the 
sun  shines."  So,  before  the  beginning  of  the  new  year  Teresita 
with  her  father  and  her  uncle,  Juan  de  la  Cruz,  found  them- 
selves established  in  the  comfortable  Tremont  Hotel  of  digni- 
fied tradition. 

Their  first  disastrous  experience  with  managers  had  taught 
them  to  be  circumspect.  George  Danskin  was  very  different 
from  L.  F.  Harrison.  He  had  a  real  liking  for  music,  to  the 
point  of  writing  piano  pieces  now  and  then  for  his  own  pleas- 
ure. He  knew  his  Boston  and  how  to  approach  it.  Here  at  last 
was  the  opportunity  to  add  to  the  all-but-exhausted  funds  of 
the  family.  No  time  was  lost.  On  January  2,  1863,  little  Teresita 
was  ready  for  her  second  "Bautismo  de  Gloria." 

At  the  first  concert  Boston  had  only  a  half-sized  audience  to 
offer  her.  Norma,  Trovatore,  "Home  Sweet  Home,"  the  Doeh- 
ler  "Nocturne,"  and  two  Gottschalk  compositions  were  on  the 
program.  A  singer,  Matilda  Phillips,  and  the  Germania  So- 
ciety's orchestra  assisted.  Most  of  the  people  who  made  up  the 
audience  were  negatively  prejudiced.  Boston  prided  itself  upon 
its  appreciation  of  the  classics,  and  therefore  could  well  afford 
to  look  down  with  becoming  superiority  upon  the  virtuoso 
style  rampant,  which  overflowed  in  obvious,  florid  cascades  call- 
ing themselves  Souvenirs  de — ,  Variations  sur — ,  and  Caprices 
sur  this  and  that.  Here  was  a  really  formidable  task  for  a  prod- 
igy's little  hands. 

The  first  surprise  of  the  evening  was  to  see  running  across  the 
stage  like  any  other  child  a  real  little  girl,  not  a  young  lady 
dressed  in  memory  of  one.  She  looked  scarcely  taller  than  the 


illP 


HAVANA    1863 


BOSTON    1863 


CINCINNATI    1864  NEW    YORK    1864 

T  ere  sit  a  the  Prodigy 


TERESA  CARRENO  39 

chairs  she  passed  with  a  purposeful  stride,  and  she  still  was 
obliged  to  mount  her  piano  stool  carefully,  but  evidently  no 
longer  needing  a  special  platform  for  her  feet.  New  York  had 
already  taught  her  to  arrange  her  dress  more  symmetrically, 
and  to  improvise  a  prelude  in  elaborate  imitation  of  the  Gott- 
schalk  manner.  That  this  child  must  be  measured  with  the 
standards  of  grown  artists  Boston  was  quick  to  realize.  In  a 
hall,  too  large  by  far  for  a  piano  soloist,  the  noticeable  flaw  was 
lack  of  strength  and  security,  mainly  in  octave  passages.  Play- 
ing without  notes  was  then  still  something  to  exclaim  about. 
Rafael  Pombo  of  the  Cronica,  2l  journal  published  in  Spanish, 
tellingly  described  the  Teresita  of  this  time: 

The  most  admirable  in  her  execution  is  herself;  the  correctness  of 
her  taste;  the  inexplicable  passion  with  which  she  plays;  the  use  she 
makes  of  her  physical  means,  of  those  tiny  hands  of  a  child  of  nine, 
without  great  visible  effort  and  without  disturbing,  at  least  in  ex- 
pression, the  look  of  serious  and  profound  concentration  which 
before  the  piano  seems  to  submerge  her  in  the  moral  depths  of  the 
composition;  her  electrical  instinct  for  effect,  the  almost  infallible 
clairvoyance  with  which  she  divines  the  secret  intentions  and  feel- 
ing of  a  Mendelssohn,  a  Chopin,  or  a  Gottschalk.  She  has  an  evi- 
dent predilection  for  the  simply  touching  and  for  the  purely  classic 
in  form,  and  we  have  not  heard  her  play  badly,  relatively,  except 
a  certain  composition  of  mediocre  value  which  did  not  enter  into 
her  choice.  Genius  has  made  her  guess  that  violence  is  the  force  of 
weakness,  and  that  there  is  nothing  more  poor  than  the  merely 
spectacular  music  that  seeks  the  strange  and  astonishing  instead  of 
the  simple  and  the  pure,  and  which  sacrifices  the  idea  to  circum- 
locutory evasion  of  the  point. 

Pombo  is  here  moved  to  quote  Lamartine:  "Uhomme  n'en- 
seigne  pas  ce  qu'inspire  le  ciel!'  And  he  goes  on  to  describe 
her  appearance  more  discriminatingly  than  anyone  up  to  this 
time. 

Physically  Teresa  Carreno  is  entirely  beautiful,  much  more  ample 
and  robust  than  is  usual  in  a  child  of  nine,  a  most  curious  example 
of  parallel  development  of  the  physical  with  the  moral  and  intel- 


40  TERESA  CARRENO 

lectual,  balsamic  and  eternal  spring  of  the  soil  where  she  was  born. 
Her  head  is  large,  and  as  an  Englishman  said,  well  equilibrated; 
the  forehead  notably  undulated,  prominent  in  the  upper  part,  and 
with  the  arc  of  inspiration  above  the  eyebrows;  a  straight,  fine,  and 
electrically  mobile  nose.  A  mouth  of  the  most  vivid  scarlet  reveals 
energy  and  at  the  same  time  allows  a  certain  sweet  and  mournful 
expression  to  play.  Her  ear  peeps  out  from  the  mass  of  ebony  of 
her  hair,  large  and  gently  inclined,  just  as  the  physiognomists  could 
imagine  that  of  a  musician  of  vocation.  The  eyes  are  small  in  con- 
tour but  enclose  two  large  and  very  tender  pupils  of  jet,  reflections 
of  moist  light,  which  give  the  effect  of  a  double  brilliant  point  in 
each  pupil.  She  has  a  delicate  and  graceful  chin,  a  full  and  trans- 
parent looking  face  with  that  peachlike  glow  that  seems  as  if  it 
were  inwardly  lighted,  a  flexible  neck,  and  admirable  hands  and 
arms.  Away  from  the  piano  her  expression  is  frolicsome,  but  as 
soon  as  she  begins  to  play,  the  outline  of  her  eyes  seems  to  fill 
itself  with  shadows  and  tears  as  if  the  world  of  art  and  sadness 
pressed  upon  them. 

A  busy  life  began  for  the  Carrenos.  Visiting  cards  with  the 
picture  of  the  prodigy  in  the  corner  had  to  be  printed  in  haste 
to  satisfy  those  who  besieged  Teresita  at  the  hotel  for  auto- 
graphs, or  in  her  absence,  just  for  a  sight  of  the  piano  on  which 
she  practiced.  Teresita  was  in  her  element.  For  once  there  were 
no  school  lessons.  She  could  play  as  much  as  she  liked,  and  in 
spite  of  the  twenty  concerts  that  followed  each  other  in  and 
near  Boston,  sometimes  at  the  rate  of  two  a  day,  she  managed 
to  add  to  her  repertoire,  and  to  compose  a  little  besides.  Her 
imagination  was  sometimes  overstimulated.  One  night  on  en- 
tering a  theater  she  was  dreadfully  frightened  by  a  devil  of 
her  own  invention.  For  the  first  time  she  and  her  father  heard 
Fidelio  together.  During  the  intermission  a  group  of  friends 
were  amused  to  hear  her  ask:  "And  tell  me,  Papa,  those  who 
are  married  in  operas,  do  they  stay  married?" 

Back  in  her  hotel  she  read  over  a  Chopin  composition  she 
had  never  before  heard.  In  the  delight  of  discovery  she  spread 
out  her  arms,  drawing  herself  up  to  full  height,  as  if  to  include 
the  world.  "From  here  to  heaven,  Papa,"  she  shouted. 


TERESA  CARRENO  41 

The  second  concert  with  an  entire  change  of  program  had 
already  taken  place  on  January  8.  Matilda  Phillips  again  as- 
sisted, and  Teresita  played  a  nocturne  by  Ravinna,  followed  by 
one  by  Gottschalk  for  an  encore;  then  Thalberg's  Mdisc,  Pru- 
dent's  Hernani,  and  the  Chopin  "Nocturne  in  E  flat,"  which 
the  papers  called  "really  the  gem  of  the  evening." 

It  was  Teresita's  own  idea  to  give  a  matinee  for  children. 
George  Danskin  too  had  imagination.  He  saw  possibility  in 
the  interest  children  always  take  in  their  contemporaries.  Such 
an  event  would  be  sensational,  a  good  appetizer  for  the  next 
big  concert.  He  immediately  addressed  an  open  letter  to  the 
Chairman  of  the  Public  Schools. 

Sirs:  The  kind  reception  accorded  to  Teresa  Carrefio  in  this  city, 
and  the  unanimous  approbation  bestowed  upon  her  performance  at 
the  Music  Hall  by  the  press  and  the  public  have  been  to  her  a 
source  of  much  gratification.  To  mark  her  appreciation  of  so  much 
kindness,  and  at  the  same  time  to  demonstrate  to  children  what  a 
child  may  accomplish,  I  propose  to  give  a  matinee  at  the  Music 
Hall  on  Saturday  next,  to  which  Teresa  Carrefio  would  be  glad  to 
invite  the  children  of  the  public  schools;  apart  from  her  love  of 
music  she  is  never  so  happy  as  when  in  the  society  of  children.  On 
receipt  of  your  reply,  should  this  meet  your  approbation,  the  requi- 
site admissions  will  be  provided  for  distribution  as  the  teachers  may 
direct. 

The  mayor  of  Boston,  J.  W.  Lincoln,  Jr.,  having  given  his 
sanction,  Teresita  presented  the  committee  with  1,200  tickets 
for  free  distribution  among  the  pupils  selected  from  the  Latin, 
English  High,  Girls  High,  Normal,  and  German  Schools. 

The  concert  was  given  two  days  later.  Children  sat  in  the 
balcony  and  overflowed  onto  the  platform.  Parents,  friends, 
and  spectators  filled  the  orchestra  seats.  Teresita  was  the  sole 
performer.  "Last  Hope,"  Lucia,  and  "Home  Sweet  Home" 
were  the  compositions  listed.  After  each  Mr.  Lincoln  stepped 
forward.  "Will  all  those  who  wish  to  hear  little  Teresita  play 
again  please  raise  their  hands!"  And  up  went  hands,  fluttering 
handkerchiefs,  and  a  whole  chorus  of  cheers.  Just  before  the 


42  TERESA  CARRENO 

last  number  a  mite  of  seven  presented  Teresita  with  a  basket  of 
flowers  as  big  as  herself,  and  Teresita  opened  her  arms  wide 
to  thank  her  with  a  warm  kiss. 

The  next  morning  Mr.  Danskin  proudly  flaunted  a  letter 
from  Mayor  Lincoln,  which  he  took  care  to  have  published  in 
all  the  papers  of  the  city. 

My  dear  Sir,  I  feel  that  Teresa  Carreno  and  her  guardians  ought  not 
to  leave  this  city  without  a  more  permanent  testimonial  of  her  re- 
markable powers  than  I  was  able  to  present  during  a  brief  personal 
interview. 

The  concert  was  one  of  the  most  delightful  musical  entertain- 
ments ever  given  in  our  city.  Music  has  recently  become  an  im- 
portant branch  of  education  in  our  public  schools,  and  the  example 
that  this  young  pianist  set  before  our  children  of  her  proficiency 
in  the  art,  will,  no  doubt,  have  an  inspiring  influence,  and  excite 
them  to  greater  exertions  in  their  studies. 

The  winning  simplicity  of  her  manners,  her  apparent  uncon- 
sciousness of  her  own  merits — seeming  only  anxious  to  please  oth- 
ers— adds  a  great  charm  to  her  musical  performances;  while  the 
skill  and  artistic  taste  which  she  displays  in  execution,  call  forth 
the  admiration  of  professional  persons  as  well  as  every  lover  of  art. 

On  the  following  Tuesday  evening  Teresita  gave  another 
solo  recital  in  the  more  suitable  setting  of  Chickering  Hall. 
Although  the  price  had  been  raised  to  a  whole  dollar  a  ticket, 
the  place  was  crowded.  For  two  hours  Teresita  played  with 
but  slight  intermission,  although  there  was  a  footnote  on  the 
program  urging  that  no  encores  be  demanded.  The  father  had 
not  feared  fatigue  for  his  daughter  as  much  as  the  effect  of 
an  entire  piano  program  on  the  audience.  Teresita  herself  had 
no  qualms.  Lost  in  her  music  she  played  a  barcarolle  by  Thal- 
berg,  Goria's  Trovatore,  Mendelssohn's  "Rondo  Capriccioso," 
and  Boston's  favorite,  the  "Nocturne  in  E  flat"  of  Chopin.  To 
these  she  added  /  Puritani  by  Herz,  and  Doehler's  inevitable 
"Nocturne."  Of  her  own  accord  she  appended  a  waltz  of  her 
own.  Boston  "gave  way  to  the  most  boisterous  and  fantastic 
demonstration."  Immaculate  ladies  left  with  bonnets  awry  and 


TERESA  CARRENO  43 

gloves  split  open,  forgetting  umbrellas  and  purses.  The  Boston 
Herald  went  so  far  as  to  say:  "This  little  child  has  created  more 
excitement  in  musical  circles,  a  more  genuine  furore  than  any 
artiste  who  has  been  in  Boston  since  the  visit  of  Jenny  Lind." 
Other  cities  called  for  concerts  by  the  pet  of  Boston — Provi- 
dence, Cambridge,  New  Haven,  and  Salem  among  them.  But 
this  did  not  prevent  Teresita  from  incorporating  Beethoven's 
"Sonate  Pathetique"  in  her  repertoire,  completely  assimilating  it 
in  less  than  a  week.  The  Providence  Daily  Post  grew  romantic 
like  the  rest  over 

the  little  sylph  who  comes  upon  the  stage  with  wings  of  silk  and  in 
drapery  of  white.  Her  venerable  father  is  a  musician,  and  has  been 
her  tutor — Prospero  and  Miranda  in  the  tempest  of  war  and  earth- 
quakes among  which  they  have  lived!  He  has  brought  to  us  from 
the  mighty  Orinoco  and  the  shadows  of  the  lofty  Andes  a  spirit 
as  fascinating  and  beautiful  as  Ariel.  If  Church  has  ravished  our 
eyes  by  portraying  their  stupendous  elevations,  their  boundless 
sweep,  their  affluence  of  color  and  shape  and  cloud  scenery  in  his 
"The  Heart  of  the  Andes,"  la  Carreno  has  taken  captive  our  senses 
by  reflecting  the  diapason  of  nature  as  it  bore  upon  her  ears  from 
tornado  and  cataract  .  .  .  her  notes  are  echoes  of  her  native  land. 
A  tourist  in  a  fine  extravagance  has  said :  See  Naples  and  then  die. 
But  while  dying  he  would  now  pray  to  hear  Teresa  Carreno.  (Ra- 
leigh) 

Gilmore's  Grand  Band  Concerts  in  Boston  were  the  attrac- 
tion for  the  many.  Mass  effects,  stupendous  variety,  incongru- 
ous mixtures,  drew  the  crowds.  This  musical  P.  T.  Barnum  had 
an  unfailing  instinct  for  box-office  talent.  He  at  once  saw  the 
possibilities  inherent  in  the  combination  of  these  monster  per- 
formances and  the  most  diminutive  of  pianists.  Extremes  were 
his  province.  He  succeeded  through  the  lure  of  financial  profit 
too  great  to  be  refused  in  overcoming  the  scruples  of  Manuel 
Antonio,  and  obligated  Teresita  for  three  closely  fitting  con- 
certs. Two  of  them  took  place  on  Sundays,  and  were  adver- 
tised in  deference  to  Boston,  the  pious,  as  "sacred."  At  each 
concert  Teresita  played  only  twice,  two  major  works  and  some 


44  TERESA  CARRENO 

encores.  Mme.  Anna  Bishop  sang,  and  several  solo  performers 
belonging  to  Mr.  Gilmore's  band  took  part.  Teresita's  "Polka- 
Caprice"  appeared  in  these  concerts  for  the  first  time.  Band  and 
orchestra  combined  their  volume  in  potpourris  and  the  "Julien 
Exhibition  Quadrille."  Teresita  tactfully  chose  the  most  bibli- 
cal compositions  on  her  slate,  Thalberg's  "Prayer"  and  Gott- 
schalk's  "Jerusalem."  In  her  encores  she  allowed  herself  to 
become  more  worldly.  The  Boston  audience — these  concerts 
were  so  popular  that  people  had  to  be  turned  away — for  once 
forgot  its  aversion  to  Sabbath  applause  and  gave  Teresita  one 
of  the  heartiest  of  demonstrations,  reaching  a  new  height  when 
she  ended  with  her  own  arrangement  of  the  "Star  Spangled 
Banner." 

There  was  one  warning  voice.  Mr.  Dwight  of  Dwight's 
Musical  Journal,  the  most  influential  one  of  its  day,  admitted 
her  genius  but  gave  counsel:  "May  it  only  have  wise  training 
and  not  be  early  wasted  before  the  public!  It  is  too  precious  for 
continual  exposure.  Such  gifts  are  of  God,  and  should  not  be 
prostituted  for  mere  gain." 

Nobody  was  prepared  for  the  great  climax  of  Teresita's  Bos- 
ton sojourn.  One  morning  Mr.  Danskin,  purple  and  breathless, 
confronted  Manuel  Antonio  with  what  he  called  the  chance  of 
a  lifetime,  the  goal  of  ambition  for  the  greatest  virtuosi,  the 
supreme  of  all  coveted  honors.  It  was  not  to  be  believed!  Carl 
Zerrahn,  Boston's  beloved  conductor,  had  offered  Teresita  an 
appearance  in  the  Second  Philharmonic  Concert  of  the  season. 
Manuel  Antonio  beamed. 

"But  he  demands  that  she  play  Mendelssohn's  'Capriccio 
Brillante'  with  the  orchestra,"  added  Mr.  Danskin. 

Manuel  Antonio's  expression  changed.  "Impossible!  She  has 
never  seen  it,  there  are  only  ten  days  before  the  concert,  and 
we  have  no  copy  of  the  music." 

"At  least  permit  me  to  get  the  music,"  countered  Mr.  Dan- 
skin. "If  she  is  unable  to  learn  it,  she  still  can  play  her  solos." 
And  to  this  Manuel  Antonio  agreed.  George  Danskin  dashed 


TERESA  CARRENO  45 

from  place  to  place,  but  nobody  in  Boston  appeared  to  possess 
the  composition.  In  desperation  he  sent  to  New  York.  On  the 
afternoon  of  Wednesday  the  music  came,  Friday  was  the  day 
of  the  first  rehearsal,  and  for  Saturday  the  concert  was  ir- 
revocably set.  The  only  one  who  did  not  have  a  desperate  case 
of  nerves  in  the  process  was  Teresita.  Here  was  something 
fresh,  something  that  fired  her  imagination.  That  nobody  really 
thought  she  could  do  it  put  her  on  her  mettle.  And  what  fun 
to  play  with  an  orchestra  of  fifty  musicians !  She  found  that  the 
martial  theme  memorized  itself,  that  the  passages  lay  com- 
fortably for  her  fingers.  The  melodies  she  kept  singing  to  her- 
self, when  she  was  not  practicing  them.  Gradually,  as  they 
worked  together,  Manuel  Antonio's  fright  gave  way  to  hope, 
and  then  to  confidence.  The  rehearsals  went  surprisingly  well. 
Teresita  at  the  piano,  with  or  without  orchestra,  was  as  sure- 
footed as  an  eagle  on  his  summit. 

Again  only  Mr.  Dwight  voiced  criticism.  "Wonder  chil- 
dren," he  complained,  "just  now  carry  the  day;  and  it  is  only 
those  concerts  in  which  little  Miss  Carreno  plays  that  seem  to 
pay;  and  for  those  there  is  a  new  name,  to  wit  'Musical  Enter- 
prise.' '  Then  he  speaks  of  the  "little  magician  who  coins  so 
many  notes  and  dollars,"  and  adds  in  complete  desperation: 
"By  the  way  another  prodigy,  Master  Willie  Barnsmore  Pape, 
is  coming." 

The  Boston  Transcript  went  on  with  its  encomiums  regard- 
less, backed  by  Carl  Zerrahn  himself:  "The  conductor  begs 
leave  to  congratulate  the  Boston  public  upon  the  opportunity 
of  witnessing  this  trial  and  triumph  of  the  greatest  prodigy 
which  the  world  has  known  since  the  days  of  Mozart,"  it  said. 
The  advance  notices  of  the  program  were  headed:  "Philhar- 
monic Concerts.  Carl  Zerrahn  has  the  honor  to  announce  to 
his  subscribers  and  the  public  that  he  will  give  his  second 
Grand  Philharmonic  Concert  at  the  Boston  Music  Hall  Satur- 
day evening,  January  24th,  1863,  assisted  by  Senorita  Teresa 
Carreno  and  Mrs.  Celia  Houston  Ford  (pupil  of  Signor  Bande- 
lari)  who  will  then  make  her  first  appearance  in  public," 


46  TERESA  CARRENO 

The  historic  day  was  a  busy  one.  For  good  measure  Teresita 
had  been  allowed  to  send  out  cards  for  a  reception  to  children 
in  the  Music  Hall  that  very  afternoon,  the  price  of  admission 
being  twenty-five  cents.  The  children  of  the  Perkins  Institute 
for  the  Blind  came  in  a  body,  bringing  her  keepsakes  of  their 
own  making.  The  program  was  short  and  not  too  taxing,  Gode- 
froid's  "A  Night  in  Spain,"  the  "Last  Hope,"  and  the  varia- 
tions on  "Home  Sweet  Home,"  followed  by  the  "Star  Spangled 
Banner"  as  amplified  by  Teresita.  Far  from  tiring  her,  the  fore- 
taste inspired  her  for  the  more  important  performance  on  that 
evening. 

The  Music  Hall  was  overcrowded,  buzzing  with  conjecture. 
How  could  a  little  girl  barely  nine  years  old  have  the  presump- 
tion to  match  her  complete  inexperience  with  the  mature  artists 
assisting  her  in  a  totally  unfamiliar  sort  of  ensemble?  How 
could  she  with  any  understanding  play  a  composition  that  four 
days  before  she  had  neither  heard  nor  seen?  Mr.  Dwight 
slumped  in  his  accustomed  seat  on  the  left  side  and  expected 
the  worst.  "Musical  Enterprise"  was  the  right  word  for  it. 

Nobody  paid  much  attention  to  the  overture.  When  at  last 
it  was  over,  the  orchestra  had  finished  tuning,  and  Carl  Zer- 
rahn  stood  ready,  Teresita  entered  the  hall.  As  she  mounted 
the  stool  before  the  piano,  her  friend,  she  gave  Mr.  Zerrahn  a 
happy  smile.  With  the  dash  and  assurance  of  one  too  young  to 
admit  real  difficulties,  or  to  create  imaginary  ones,  she  began  to 
relive  the  dramatic  story  of  Mendelssohn's  conceiving.  She 
listened,  blending  with  the  orchestra,  holding  her  own  against 
its  massive  background,  playfully  letting  the  piano  answer  the 
liquid  phrases  of  the  flute,  the  winning  melody  of  the  violin 
in  meaningful  conversation.  The  orchestra  and  the  pianist 
urged  each  other  on  to  the  final  apotheosis.  Then  it  was  the 
turn  of  the  audience  to  break  in  with  uproarious  applause,  that, 
as  for  any  keyboard  veteran,  no  longer  held  terror  for  her. 
First  shaking  hands  with  Carl  Zerrahn,  she  stood  very  still, 
while  he  spoke  to  the  audience  and  then  to  her.  She  wondered 
what  it  was  he  was  saying.  Then  he  gave  her  a  long  scroll,  and 


TERESA  CARRENO  47 

at  last  hung  about  her  neck  a  heavy  gold  medal  on  the  prettiest 
blue  ribbon  she  had  ever  seen.  For  this  her  father  had  prepared 
her.  He  had  told  her  to  wait  after  her  playing,  to  listen  to  Mr. 
Zerrahn,  and  should  he  give  her  a  present,  to  say  "merci."  This 
she  remembered  to  do  before  running  off  stage  so  fast  that  she 
caught  and  lost  her  heel  on  the  steps  of  the  green  room,  falling 
into  the  arms  of  her  father,  happily  ready  to  receive  her. 

The  strain  of  suddenly  returning  from  the  very  stratosphere 
of  music  to  the  level  of  everyday  excitement,  the  congratula- 
tions of  overefrusive  people,  had  been  wearing  after  all.  They 
would  not  leave  her  alone,  even  while  Mrs.  Ford  was  singing. 
Almost  before  she  realized  it,  it  was  time  for  her  solos,  first  a 
fantasia  on  /  due  Foscari,  and  then  Lucia.  The  change  from 
child  to  artist  was  too  sudden.  She  had  been  playing  for  a 
time,  when  she  awoke  to  the  fact  that  she  had  lost  her  way. 
What  should  come  next?  There  was  a  moment  of  hesitation. 
Manuel  Antonio  could  feel  the  skin  of  his  scalp  contracting. 
"She  is  only  a  child  of  nine  after  all.  Give  her  a  present  and 
she  forgets  her  music,"  he  thought.  But  Teresita  was  going  on, 
not,  to  be  sure,  with  the  notes  of  the  composition,  but  in  a  vein 
quite  in  keeping  with  it,  until  eventually  she  found  her  way 
back  to  the  charted  path.  Manuel  Antonio  breathed  again.  He 
gave  a  quick  glance  at  the  redoubtable  Mr.  Dwight,  who  ap- 
peared not  to  have  noticed  the  lapse.  In  a  later  intermission 
a  prominent  musician  sought  out  Manuel  Antonio,  to  ask 
whether  Teresita  had  used  a  new  edition.  He  had  noticed  an 
interesting  variation  not  contained  in  others  and,  liking  it  es- 
pecially, wished  to  acquire  it  himself. 

Dwight  again  let  his  voice  be  heard.  Although  he  goes  on 
record  to  say  that  the  child's  face  beams  with  intelligence  and 
genius,  and  that  those  two  qualities  speak  in  a  certain  untaught 
life  that  there  is  in  her  playing,  he  once  more  gives  advice: 
"The  danger  is  lest  her  talent  by  such  early  exhibition  and  ex- 
posure should  all  run  to  waste  in  superficial,  showy  music.  .  .  . 
Such  a  child  needs  a  wise  director,  such  as  young  Mozart  found 
in  his  father."  He  suggests  letting  music  lessons  fade  into  the 


48  TERESA  CARRENO 

background  for  a  year  or  two  in  order  to  give  time  for  other 
training,  physical  as  well  as  mental.  It  disturbs  him  that  Ter- 
esita's  arms  seem  to  be  unnaturally  developed. 

Manuel  Antonio  must  have  taken  these  words  to  heart.  How- 
ever for  the  moment  there  was  no  question  of  following  their 
counsel.  Boston  was  not  yet  willing  to  part  with  the  prodigy. 
Her  calendar  was  full.  The  Principal  of  the  Elliott  Grammar 
School  invited  Teresita  to  attend  a  gymnastic  exhibition  in  her 
honor,  for  which  she  in  turn  gave  thanks  in  music.  She  visited 
the  Perkins  Institute  for  the  Blind.  Invitations  of  a  purely  social 
kind  poured  in  in  unacceptable  number.  New  cartes  de  visite 
had  to  be  ordered,  because  for  her  farewell  concert  she  wanted 
one  for  every  lady  in  the  audience.  Teresita  was  not  permitted  to 
neglect  her  practice.  Besides  learning  the  "Sonate  Pathetique" 
to  please  Boston,  she  meant  to  play  some  compositions  in  lighter 
vein  by  George  Danskin  in  public  as  a  surprise  for  him. 

To  Teresita  the  blue  ribbon  had  meant  more  than  the  scroll 
signed  by  every  member  of  the  orchestra,  which  made  her  an 
honorary  member  of  the  Philharmonic  Society.  It  pleased  her 
more  than  the  medal  itself.  Three  inches  in  diameter  this  was 
engraved  on  the  reverse  side  with  a  wreath  enclosing  a  likeness 
of  Teresita  seated  at  the  piano.  The  front  bore  the  inscription: 
"Presented  to  Teresita  Carreno,  the  child  pianist,  by  the  Phil- 
harmonic Society  of  Boston  as  a  tribute  of  homage  to  her 
genius.  January  24th,  1863." 

Mr.  Danskin  at  once  acknowledged  the  tribute  in  a  letter, 
also  widely  circulated  by  the  Boston  press.  From  Tremont 
House  he  wrote: 

My  dear  Sir:  In  the  name  of  Teresa  Carreno,  I  have  to  thank 
you  and  your  associates  for  the  magnificent  testimonial  presented 
her  this  evening.  It  is  the  first  public  tribute  she  has  received,  and 
whatever  may  be  her  future  artistic  success,  she  will  always  with 
pride  and  gratitude  remember  the  Philharmonic  Concert  at  Boston 
Music  Hall  on  Saturday  evening,  January  twenty-fourth,  1863. 

Inclosed  you  will  be  pleased  to  receive  a  note  of  thanks  from 


TERESA  CARRENO  49 

the  little  girl.  It  is  spontaneous  on  her  part,  the  language  in  the 
simplicity  of  childhood;  accept  it  in  all  its  purity,  it  comes  from  the 
heart. 

Teresita's  letter  was  given  in  translation  from  the  Spanish 
original : 

Carl  Zerrahn,  esquire:  You  will  pardon  me  if  I  cannot  rightly 
express  myself  by  word.  When  you  gave  me  that  pretty  medal  on 
Saturday  night  I  did  not  know  what  it  meant,  thinking  only  it 
was  a  mere  present  to  me;  but  when  Mr.  Danskin,  the  manager  of 
my  concerts,  told  me  shortly  after  that  the  kind  gentlemen  who 
played  with  me  presented  it  "as  a  tribute  to  my  genius"  I  did  know 
that  you  all  feel  kindly  towards  me  and  love  me;  that  is  all  I  hope 
for,  for  I  do  like  to  be  loved  and  to  be  thought  well  of,  and  I  shall 
always  do  my  best  to  please,  for  my  dear  Papa  and  Mamma  have 
always  taught  me  to  be  good.  With  high  consideration  I  am,  Sir, 
your  obedient  servant,  Teresa  Carreno. 

Everything  Teresita  did  was  of  public  interest,  every  detail 
of  her  life  in  Caracas.  In  imitation  of  her  urbane  father  she  had 
herself  one  day  at  the  age  of  seven  set  up  some  maxims  of  her 
own.  By  chance  they  came  to  the  attention  of  Mr.  Danskin.  He 
saw  in  them  at  once  another  angle  of  appeal.  The  next  day  they 
were  published,  reading: 

1.  Learn  that  you  may  teach. 

2.  Be  not  haughty,  that  you  may  be  loved  by  others. 

3.  Take  pity  on  the  wicked,  and  endeavor  not  to  be  such. 

4.  Those  children  cannot  be  good,  who  do  not  respect  their 
parents,  and  they  are,  moreover,  considered  as  ill-bred.  Chil- 
dren ought  always  to  bear  this  in  mind. 

5.  God  says  that  he  does  not  love  those  who  are  stubborn  or 
speak  falsehood.  Children  should  therefore  be  good,  and  live 
in  God,  who  is  our  Divine  Providence. 

6.  Children  should  always  be  good  and  docile,  and  never  allow 
themselves  to  be  told  things  more  than  once.  How  much, 
then,  they  will  be  liked! 

7.  Avoid  envy. 

8.  Children  should  always  imitate  a  good  example. 


50  TERESA  CARRENO 

9.  God  ordains  that  we  should  protect  old  age  when  in  want. 

10.  Never  get  angry,  although  you  may  have  cause  to  be  so. 

11.  The  fear  of  the  Lord  ought  to  be  the  rule  of  our  life. 

From  between  the  lines  there  emerges  a  little  girl  acknowl- 
edging the  faults  for  which  she  had  often  been  corrected,  a  lit- 
tle girl  who  would  do  anything  for  the  sake  of  being  loved  by 
others,  a  little  girl  who  dimly  felt  that  hers  was  the  respon- 
sibility of  caring  not  only  for  her  dolls  but  for  her  family. 

It  was  time  to  take  reluctant  leave  of  Boston,  and  a  veritable 
paradise  it  had  been  to  Manuel  Antonio.  Here  were  human  be- 
ings of  his  own  kind,  cultivated,  tactful,  and  with  proper  re- 
serve in  their  politeness !  In  New  York  he  had  disliked  himself 
for  this  new  state  of  mind,  always  on  the  defensive,  this  shell  in 
which  he  could  feel  himself  petrifying.  At  the  earliest  opportu- 
nity they  must  return  to  Boston,  he  decided.  Perhaps  later,  since 
its  tempo  was  congenial  to  them,  they  might  even  make  a 
home  there.  Not  the  least  of  its  charms  was  that  Boston  enabled 
them  to  return  to  Clorinda  with  the  twin  offerings  of  an  artis- 
tic triumph  beyond  hopes  and  a  heavy  purse. 

"One  more  concert,"  urged  the  impresario.  It  was  set  for 
January  27.  To  make  a  real  climax  of  it,  there  had  to  be  a 
special  attraction.  According  to  Teresita's  wish,  George  Dan- 
skin  promptly  advertised  that  the  cartes  de  visite  were  in  process 
of  printing,  one  for  each  lady  in  the  audience  as  a  gift,  "and 
they  will  with  such  a  subject  produce  gems  of  photographic 
art."  He  announced  further  that  Teresita's  selections  were  to  be 
the  choicest  of  her  repertoire,  and  that  not  only  would  the 
"Sonate  Pathetique"  be  among  them,  but  also  the  "Capriccio 
Brillante"  repeated  with  quintette  accompaniment.  It  was  Ter- 
esita's own  idea  to  play  a  polka-mazurka,  called  "Rachel 
Adoree,"  in  special  tribute  to  its  composer,  Mr.  Danskin,  and 
her  final  encore  was  a  waltz  dedicated  to  the  ladies  of  Boston 
by  Teresita  herself.  Fittingly  she  called  it  "L'Addio."  All 
agreed  that  the  "Sonate"  had  been  the  high  point  of  the  eve- 
ning. 

A  farewell  it  was  not  yet  to  be.  The  gentlemen  did  not  wish 


TERESA  CARRENO  51 

to  be  outdone  by  the  ladies.  A  group  of  them  asked  to  arrange 
a  final  testimonial  concert  by  Teresita  and  for  Teresita  alone 
in  Chickering  Hall  on  the  following  evening.  All  the  tickets 
were  quickly  sold  at  $1  each,  the  purse  presented  to  Manuel 
Antonio  containing  $260.  Again  the  "Capriccio  Brillante,"  suit- 
ably accompanied  by  the  Mendelssohn  Quintette  Club,  ap- 
peared on  the  program,  and  this  time  a  waltz  by  George  Dan- 
skin.  After  the  last  encore  a  lady  well  known  in  musical  circles 
hung  another  medal  of  gold  around  Teresita's  neck.  It  was  en- 
graved with  a  harp,  a  drum,  and  other  musical  instruments, 
and  with  a  dedication  from  the  musical  amateurs  of  Boston. 
The  uncle  responded  for  Teresita  in  a  few  graceful  words  of 
thanks. 

Boston  had  adopted  the  Carrenos.  They  were  people  more  at 
home  in  a  drawing  room  than  in  a  box  office,  a  gratifying  con- 
trast to  ill-mannered  prodigies,  accompanied  by  vulgar  parents 
with  acquisitive  eyes.  Teresita's  concerts,  for  a  time  the  daily 
topic  of  conversation  in  Boston  society,  faded  into  memory 
more  gradually  than  the  smoke  of  the  train  that  carried  three 
happy  people  back  to  New  York.  Had  Boston  been  given  to 
more  spontaneous  expression,  it  might  have  echoed  as  a  part- 
ing blessing  the  words  of  Felipe  Larrazabal:  "May  Heaven 
grant  that  the  sublime  artist  of  Caracas  shall  always  sing  of 
pain  not  felt,  torments  and  grief  not  suffered;  and  that  like 
the  bird  that  swings  contentedly  on  the  branch  of  the  acacia, 
she  may  dissipate  in  magnificent  chords  the  tempests  of  the 
heart  that  agitate  and  harm  our  miserable  existence."  And 
many  there  were  who  did  not  cease  to  wonder  that  one  of  those 
who  brought  comfort  and  forgetfulness  in  this  time  of  conflict 
between  brothers  should  be  a  little  girl  of  nine  from  a  country 
which  stood  for  nothing  if  not  for  perpetual  fratricidal  war. 

Manuel  Antonio  would  have  been  glad  to  follow  Mr.  Dwight's 
advice  then  and  there.  He  had  learned  a  great  deal  in  Boston 
and  was  too  wise  not  to  realize  that  public  taste  was  changing, 
that  even  now  a  program  called  for  something  more  solid  than 


52  TERESA  CARRENO 

empty  arrangements  of  operatic  airs.  Before  all  Teresita  needed 
a  larger  repertoire,  assimilated  in  peaceful  concentration.  Again 
circumstances  forced  him  to  decide  otherwise.  One  of  his  many 
Venezuelan  friends  in  Cuba  urged  that  Teresita  be  brought  to 
Havana.  He  insisted  upon  immediate  departure,  lest  the  begin- 
ning of  the  heat  wave  make  concerts  unproductive.  Gottschalk 
promised  to  throw  the  weight  of  his  recommendation  in  the 
balance  with  letters  to  influential  people.  The  managers  made 
stupendous  concessions,  and  altogether  the  knock  of  opportu- 
nity became  too  insistent  to  be  disregarded.  Secretly,  also,  Man- 
uel Antonio  longed  to  be  once  again  his  own  interpreter,  to 
speak  his  own  language  in  a  country  that  already  knew  him  as 
the  author  of  the  Urbanidad.  He  decided  to  risk  the  journey. 
Gottschalk  himself  announced  his  protegee  to  the  journals  of 
Havana : 

Teresa  Carreno  does  not  belong  to  the  kind  of  little  prodigy  that 
we  have  been  judging  for  the  last  twenty-five  years;  Teresa  is  a 
genius,  let  us  say  it  at  once;  she  is  only  nine  years  old;  she  is  a 
veritable  child  full  of  that  indolent  yet  happy  grace  of  her  age.  One 
need  not  have  any  fear  for  her;  she  never  inspires  a  feeling  of  pity. 
On  hearing  her  one  sees,  one  feels  at  once  that  Teresa  plays  the 
piano  as  the  bird  sings,  as  the  flower  opens  its  petals.  She  is  born 
to  music,  she  has  the  instinct  of  the  beautiful — she  divines  it!  Her 
compositions  reveal  a  sensitivity,  a  grace  and  an  artistry  like  those 
that  seem  to  be  the  exclusive  privilege  of  work  and  maturity  of  age. 
I  have  only  given  her  six  or  eight  lessons,  and  nevertheless  they 
were  enough  to  conquer  obstacles  that  for  others  would  have  been 
insuperable  barriers.  She  belongs  to  the  class  of  those  privileged 
by  Providence,  and  I  have  not  the  slightest  doubt  that  she  will  be 
one  of  the  greatest  artists  of  our  age.  L.  M.  Gottschalk. 

To  his  close  friend,  Espadero,  he  could  write  more  fully  and 
freely: 

She  is  a  genius — I  have  only  been  able  to  give  her  Rvc  or  six  lessons, 
and  although  she  never  had  a  teacher  who  knew  anything  (this  is 
between  ourselves)  she  already  achieves  a  thousand  miracles. — I 
wish  you  to  do  all  you  can  to  help  her.  She  is  a  lovable,  enchanting 


TERESA  CARRENO  53 

little  girl.  She  understands  everything  good.  Her  father  is  an  ac- 
complished gentleman,  distinguished,  honored,  and  of  good  family. 
The  child  has  tiny  hands  and  nevertheless  (you  must  take  into  ac- 
count that  she  never  heard  anything  in  Caracas)  does  outstanding 
things;  she  has  good  musical  ideas,  and  composes  well  by  instinct. 
I  would  like  to  have  you  sing  her  praises  in  the  newspapers.  Look 
out  for  her. 

Shortly  before  her  departure  from  New  York  Teresita  played 
once  more  at  a  private  soiree  in  her  own  home.  As  always  in 
the  company  of  intimate  friends  she  was  happy  and  mischie- 
vously inclined.  After  she  had  played  the  "Prayer"  from  Mo'ise, 
she  swung  around  upon  her  stool  and  said:  "Now  I  will  compose 
an  opera  for  you."  A  journalist  reported  it  thus: 

A  young  girl  stood  in  her  window,  and  the  count  who  was  in  love 
with  her  passed  by  and  began  to  ask  her  to  marry  him;  the  young 
girl  did  not  care  for  him,  and  retired  from  the  window,  the  count 
to  the  corner.  Just  then  a  king  passed,  and  he  also  asked  the  young 
girl  to  marry  him;  but  the  young  girl  would  not  admit  him  either. 
So  the  two  lovers,  meeting  each  other,  began  to  fight,  and  the  count 
was  killed.  The  second  act  she  played  and  explained  at  the  same 
time.  The  king  and  the  young  girl  were  alone  in  the  living-room; 
the  king  made  love  to  the  young  girl.  She  rejected  the  crown,  be- 
cause she  cared  for  one,  who,  in  the  form  of  a  little  mouse,  by  the 
power  of  a  witch,  had  been  able  to  introduce  himself  into  the  palace. 
With  the  avowal  that  she  loved  another,  she  cried  that  her  re- 
sistance would  be  unconquerable.  But  a  king  does  not  resign  him- 
self to  be  disdained,  and  he  began  to  struggle  with  the  young  girl, 
a  struggle  in  which  passion  and  jealousy  were  let  loose,  and  he 
threatened  to  use  his  power  to  obtain  the  love  of  the  young  girl; 
but  just  then  the  lover  discarded  his  humble  disguise,  and  avenged 
with  the  death  of  the  king  the  insults  to  which  his  loved  one  was 
subjected.  The  principal  thought  came  opportunely  as  in  the  works 
of  the  great  masters,  and  at  the  end  predominated  in  the  final  duo, 
sung  while  the  marriage  was  being  celebrated,  and  while  we  heard 
the  bells  toll  for  the  burial  of  the  king.  The  auditors  looked  at  one 
another  without  saying  a  word,  while  Teresita  called  for  a  dish  of 
ice-cream  in  reward  for  her  accomplishment. 


With  only  few  weeks  at  home  for  preparation,  "Prospero  and 
Miranda"  set  sail  for  their  third  adventure  accompanied  by 
Clorinda.  Just  as  she  was  leaving,  Teresita  had  the  satisfaction 
of  seeing  her  "Gottschalk  Waltz"  in  print  with  her  portrait  in 
a  favorite  pose  engraved  upon  the  cover.  Her  chin  rests  on  her 
hand,  her  elbow  on  the  keyboard  of  the  Chickering.  She  is 
wearing  her  medals  in  a  row  pinned  to  her  concert  dress.  Three 
large  editions  were  exhausted  within  a  year. 

Arrived  in  Havana  late  in  March,  the  Carrehos  put  up  at  the 
Hotel  Inglaterra.  It  was  found  inadvisable  to  arrange  a  concert 
during  Holy  Week,  so  giving  Teresita  a  welcome  interim  for 
rehearsal  and  practice. 

As  in  New  York,  it  was  thought  well  to  have  critics  and 
musicians  hear  Teresita  before  her  first  formal  concert.  The 
hotel  was  the  right  place  for  such  an  event.  On  the  chosen  day 
two  large  connecting  rooms  were  thrown  open  to  the  elite  of 
musical  Havana.  When  Teresita  appeared,  unconcerned  as  if 
she  were  alone  with  her  family,  it  was  not  of  music  that  she 
spoke  but  of  her  beautiful  New  York  doll.  At  her  mother's 
suggestion  she  produced  it,  leaving  it  for  her  to  hold,  while 
she  played  and  improvised  upon  the  piano.  One  of  those  pres- 
ent at  this  hearing  was  a  prominent  lady  of  Havana  whom 
mourning  prevented  from  attending  a  more  public  affair.  It 
touched  her  so  deeply  to  see  little  Teresita  run  from  her  piano 
directly  back  to  her  great  baby  doll  that  on  the  next  Sunday 
there  arrived  a  large  mahogany  cradle,  perfect  as  if  for  a  real 
child,  furnished  with  every  necessary  thing:  sheets  of  batiste,  a 
little  mattress  and  down  pillows,  a  coverlet  of  muslin  em- 
broidered in  French  roses,  pillow  cases  trimmed  with  white 
lace  and  tied  with  pink  satin  ribbon,  and  finally  curtains  of 
finest  cambric  gathered  together  with  three  bows  of  pink  satin. 
Teresita  was  in  ecstasy.  For  this  she  would  have  given  all  her 
medals  without  a  thought. 

This  musical  introduction,  together  with  the  pressing  letters 
of  friends,  created  an  atmosphere  of  adulation.  The  Cubans 


TERESA  CARRENO  55 

could  be  as  extreme  in  their  worship  as  in  their  hatred.  A  group 
of  journalists  outdid  themselves  in  eulogies  and  exaggerations. 
Chopin  and  Mozart  were  overshadowed  by  Teresita  Carreno; 
her  little  hands  were  said  to  be  a  conductor  between  the  piano 
and  Heaven;  she  was  called  "a  miracle  of  instinct  possessing 
the  gift  of  divine  prophecy."  To  one  enthusiast  it  seemed  that 

when  the  prodigious  Venezuelan  child  plays  it  is  not  the  piano  nor 
any  other  instrument  that  we  hear;  it  is  a  supernatural  voice,  a 
voice  that  does  not  articulate,  yet  that  holds  all  shades  of  articulation, 
the  voice  of  intelligence  that  sings  without  the  organism,  the  voice 
of  the  heart  that  weeps  without  the  aid  of  the  eye.  Teresita  Car- 
reno is  the  great  mathematician  of  harmony.  She  is  also  the  chemist, 
the  metaphysician,  the  poet,  and  the  orator  of  harmony,  the  univer- 
sal queen  of  sound. 

Within  a  group  of  the  more  independent  critics  Espadero 
was  the  most  levelheaded.  He  had  at  once  called  upon  the  Car- 
renos  in  order  to  judge  for  himself  of  Teresita's  talent.  Al- 
though he  frankly  admitted  and  admired  her  natural  musical 
organization  and  her  mechanical  gifts,  when  Mozart  and 
Chopin  and  other  great  musicians  were  belittled  in  comparison, 
that  was  too  much.  He  felt  it  his  duty  to  counterbalance  the 
blind  encomiums  of  the  romantic  Cubans.  Like  Mr.  Dwight  he 
wished  to  warn  Teresita's  parents  that,  before  she  could  hope 
to  measure  herself  with  Camilla  Pleyel  or  with  Clara  Schu- 
mann, she  must  have  more  serious  education. 

His  remarks  were  met  with  derision,  and  even  attributed  to 
personal  jealousy  by  Manuel  Antonio,  who  was  heard  to  re- 
mark to  a  friend  that,  when  Espadero  was  about,  he  never 
dared  to  stir  from  Teresita's  side  for  fear  that  she  might  be 
poisoned.  But  these  were  after  all  only  minor  flurries,  and  the 
day  came  for  which  everyone  was  waiting  breathlessly,  the 
Havana  debut  of  Teresita  Carreno  on  April  8, 1863  in  the  hall  of 
the  Liceo,  where  Gottschalk,  Ole  Bull,  and  Jenny  Lind  had  pre- 
ceded her. 

Cubans  liked  music,  not  for  its  deeper  meaning  as  much  as 
for  its  value  as  entertainment.  Programs  were  hastily  made  up, 


56  TERESA  CARRENO 

adding  ensembles  of  local  talent  to  the  offerings  of  the  im- 
ported one.  Teresita's  was  no  exception.  It  opened  with  the 
"Theme  and  Variations"  for  flute  and  piano  composed  by  the 
father  of  a  Havana  pianist.  Then  Teresita  appeared.  She 
presented  herself  with  "enchanting  gaucherie."  So  brilliantly 
gowned  were  the  ladies,  that  the  men  were  hardly  noticed.  One 
critic  describes  her  as  a  "plump,  funny  child,"  and  speaks  of 

her  caressing  glances,  delicious  arms  roundly  developed,  and  ending 
in  model  hands,  chubby,  perfectly  shaped,  the  fingers  neither  short 
nor  long,  and  of  exquisite  delicacy.  .  .  .  She  wore  white  pantalettes 
trimmed  with  lace,  a  dress  of  knee  length  made  of  white  gauze 
sprinkled  with  gold  and  scarlet  dots  that  were  almost  unnoticeable. 
Around  her  waist  she  wore  a  very  narrow  ribbon  of  scarlet  gros- 
grain  fastened  below  the  shoulder,  and  falling  in  long  streamers 
over  the  skirt.  The  decollete  was  somewhat  pronounced,  the  sleeves 
very  short,  the  arms  bare.  Around  her  neck  she  wore  an  extremely 
simple  and  fine  gold  chain,  and  over  her  breast  on  the  left  side 
hung  two  medals,  a  large  one  and  another  smaller  one  of  gold  in 
the  shape  of  a  star.  Her  short  hair  was  trimmed  to  look  almost  like 
that  of  a  boy.  A  little  higher  than  the  forehead  she  wore  a  band  of 
narrow  scarlet  velvet  ribbon  very  tastefully  arranged,  which  en- 
hanced even  more  the  childlike  beauty  of  the  enchanting  little  girl. 
As  an  artist  she  resembles  no  one  but  herself.  She  touches  the  keys 
in  a  special  manner  with  all  the  grace  of  a  child,  with  all  the  sen- 
sitiveness of  a  woman,  and  at  the  same  time  with  all  the  aplomb,  all 
the  energy  and  all  the  assurance  of  great  professors. 

Her  contributions  were  the  Doehler  "Nocturne,"  the  "Capric- 
cio"  of  Mendelssohn  accompanied  by  five  musicians,  and  Gott- 
schalk's  "Last  Hope."  To  this  she  added  her  "Saludo  a  Cuba" 
and  the  fantasia  on  //  Trovatore.  Smothered  under  baskets  and 
wreaths  of  flowers,  with  one  of  which  she  was  crowned,  this 
"colossal  miniature  of  the  garden  of  music"  ended  her  first 
Havana  triumph.  Unanimously,  even  to  Espadero  himself, 
Havana  agreed  that  "Teresita  is  the  incredible  become  mani- 
fest." 


TERESA  CARRENO  57 

The  second  concert  warranted  a  larger  hall.  It  took  place  in 
the  Teatro  Tacon,  not  quite  filled,  yet  nevertheless  holding  an 
audience  that  was  a  compliment  to  the  prodigy.  After  the  over- 
ture to  Semiramis ,  played  by  the  Band  of  the  Royal  Engineers, 
Teresita  entered  on  the  arm  of  her  father.  She  was  immediately 
presented  with  a  huge  bouquet  of  pinks  of  all  shades  surround- 
ing a  lovely  doll,  dressed  and  decorated  in  the  most  perfect 
taste,  and  holding  with  both  hands  a  golden  ring  enameled  on 
the  outside  in  blue  with  the  name  of  Teresita  Carreno.  From 
the  bouquet  hung  two  streamers  of  red  satin  ribbon,  one  em- 
broidered with  her  name  and  the  other  with  that  of  the  donor. 
In  this  larger  place  the  Chickering  lost  much  of  its  volume,  but 
it  pleased  the  audience  that  she  played  an  impromptu  of  her 
own,  dedicated  to  Espadero.  After  she  had  played  her  favorite 
nocturne  of  Chopin  particularly  well,  a  boy  of  her  own  age 
presented  her  with  a  wreath  and  bouquets  of  flowers.  Half  a 
century  later  it  was  this  same  little  boy,  become  a  famous 
oculist,  who  ministered  to  her  again  in  Havana  at  the  time  of 
her  final  concert  upon  earth.  With  this  little  boy's  father,  Senor 
Desvernine,  she  played  a  fantasia  by  Pixis  for  four  hands,  then 
a  "Jota  de  los  Toreros"  with  her  own  father.  After  Prudent's 
Lucia,  two  assisting  artists  placed  a  wreath  around  Teresita's 
neck,  and  to  honor  her  yet  more  the  band  finished  with  an  ar- 
rangement of  "Saludo  a  Cuba." 

Before  she  was  permitted  to  leave,  the  Liceo  de  la  Habana, 
the  most  representative  musical  and  literary  organization  of  the 
island,  stepped  in  to  demand  her  appearance  on  April  25,  1863. 
Teresita  reserved  her  most  serious  works  for  this  occasion,  the 
"Ballade  in  A  flat"  of  Chopin  and  the  "Sonate  Pathetique." 
From  the  beginning  the  occasion  was  conducted  with  great 
ceremony.  Don  Pablo  Miarteni,  president  of  the  Musical  Sec- 
tion of  the  Liceo,  was  in  charge.  At  his  side  on  the  platform  sat 
Cristobal  Mendoza  the  poet,  who  read  a  long  poem  in  Teresita's 
honor  after  the  "Sonate."  Then  a  wreath  of  roses  with  two 
streamers  hanging  from  it  was  placed  upon  Teresita's  head. 


58  TERESA  CARRENO 

There  was  further  praise  in  prose  and  verse,  and  in  final  cul- 
mination the  vice-president  of  the  Division  of  Literature  read 
and  presented  her  with  a  scroll  which  read: 

The  Department  of  Music  of  the  Liceo  of  Havana  bestows  its 
membership  upon  Teresita  Carreno,  believing  that  there  was  not 
manifested  sufficient  proof  of  the  enthusiasm  she  has  inspired  by 
her  natural  talents,  and  her  extraordinary  merit.  Interpreting  the 
wish  of  the  Liceo,  and  of  its  numerous  members,  it  extends  this 
certificate,  signed  by  the  Board  of  Directors  of  the  Society,  in  which 
is  shown  the  favorable  reception  that  this  child  artist  has  had  on  the 
different  occasions  when  she  has  performed  upon  the  piano.  Her 
great  youth,  her  undeniable  genius,  her  spontaneous  dexterity  have 
been  generally  recognized  and  appreciated.  Teresita  Carreno  by 
taking  part  in  the  exercises  of  the  Liceo,  April  25,  has  marked 
with  the  stamp  of  her  Spanish-American  genius  the  history  of  the 
artistic  labors  of  this  body,  which  prides  itself  that  her  name  now 
appears  in  order  among  those  of  other  members,  and  which,  in 
honor  of  her  genius,  now  takes  this  opportunity  to  place  its  certifi- 
cate in  her  hands  in  the  presence  of  this  audience.  Subscribed  by 
the  President,  Director,  and  Secretary  of  the  Division  of  Music  of 
the  Liceo  of  Havana,  April  25,  1863. 

A  luncheon  followed  these  exercises.  On  the  way  home  Ter- 
esita, who  had  found  it  impossible  to  understand,  or  to  attend 
to  everything  that  was  said,  asked  her  father  what  it  meant.  He 
explained  at  length  the  significance  of  being  made  an  honorary 
member  in  so  exclusive  a  group.  Teresita  was  not  impressed.  "I 
should  have  liked  better  to  be  named  Secretary,"  she  declared. 

Immediately  after  this  event  the  Carrenos  left  for  Matanzas. 
Time  pressed.  Rain,  for  a  moment  cooling  the  atmosphere, 
moistened  the  earth  only  to  rise  again  as  a  steaming  vapor.  In 
Matanzas  Teresita  found  time  for  play  with  little  girls  of  her 
own  age,  while  preparing,  this  time  with  orchestral  back- 
ground, for  her  concert  in  the  hall  of  the  artistic  and  literary 
Liceo  of  this  city.  The  Doehler  "Nocturne"  opened  the  pro- 
gram. Then  came  a  Gottschalk  dance,  "Di  que  Si,"  in  four- 
hand  form,  probably  with  her  father.  As  a  tribute,  the  orches- 


TERESA  CARRENO  59 

tra  played  a  pretty  little  schottisch  composed  by  Dona  Pilar 
Ortiz  and  called  "La  Bienvenida  a  Teresita  Carreno."  When  the 
concert  proper  was  over,  the  entire  Board  of  Directors  of  the 
Liceo  de  Matanzas,  followed  by  Teresita  on  the  arm  of  her 
father,  gathered  upon  the  platform,  and  as  a  tribute  to  real 
genius,  two  very  delightful  young  ladies  placed  a  wreath  of 
gold  upon  her  brow,  a  procedure  to  which  Teresita  was  by  this 
time  well  accustomed. 

So  the  most  outwardly  rewarding  of  the  three  adventures 
ended  on  a  note  of  triumph.  In  New  York  it  was  Teresita,  the 
novelty;  in  Boston,  Teresita,  the  musician;  in  Cuba,  Teresita, 
wonder  child  of  a  sister  nation,  who  drew  the  crowds.  The 
concert  season  was  everywhere  at  a  close,  and  at  last  the  Car- 
renos  could  afford  the  luxury  of  returning  to  privacy  at  home. 
There  was  time  to  give  thought  to  a  much  neglected  little 
brother.  Teresita  had  a  maternal  feeling  about  him,  almost  as 
if  he  were  another  doll  of  her  responsibility.  Meanwhile  the 
family  of  Juan  de  la  Cruz  and  Grandmother  Gertrudis,  the 
brave,  were  suffering  from  homesickness.  A  longer  stay  in 
New  York  could  mean  only  futile  expense  and  another  prob- 
lem for  Manuel  Antonio  and  Clorinda.  One  summer  day  they 
sailed  back  to  Venezuela,  Gertrudis  to  spend  the  last  years  of 
her  life  with  her  favorite  daughter,  Maria  Teresa,  living  sim- 
ply but  happily  in  the  surroundings  to  which  she  now  was  sure 
she  belonged. 


A  Venezuelan  to  this  day  prefers  to  visit  France  rather  than 
the  United  States.  His  children  are  sent  there  to  be  educated,  he 
learns  at  least  something  of  its  language,  and  his  wife  imports 
her  clothes  from  Paris.  Common  racial  background  makes  each 
feel  at  home  in  the  land  of  the  other.  Purely  personal  reasons 
kept  Manuel  Antonio  from  choosing  this  more  usual  course. 
The  first  year  in  North  America  had  shown  him  that  momen- 
tary success  was  not  difficult  of  achievement  there.  Permanent 
success,  however,  could  not  be  counted  upon  without  the  seal 
of  European  commendation.  His  original  plan  to  develop 
rather  than  exploit  Teresita's  genius  and  to  take  her  to  Paris 
for  that  purpose,  thanks  to  the  income  from  the  Boston  and 
Havana  tours,  could  now  be  carried  out. 

This  time  his  own  condition  of  health  interfered.  Manuel 
Antonio  took  life  seriously.  The  conflicting  problems  of  father- 
hood, business,  and  art,  in  combination  with  the  unfriendly 
climate  of  New  York,  had  been  to  such  a  degree  taxing  that  a 
complete  rest  of  some  months  was  the  physician's  ultimatum. 
So  the  life  of  the  household  on  Second  Avenue  settled  down  to 
a  routine  like  that  of  any  average  family.  Teresita  learned  Eng- 
lish quickly,  but  attended  none  too  eagerly  to  her  other  lessons. 
She  had  tasted  the  power  that  being  the  breadwinner  gave  her, 
and  after  months  of  knowing  herself  the  first  person  to  be  con- 
sidered, she  naturally  found  it  hard  to  subordinate  herself  again 
as  the  obedient  daughter.  She  knew  that  she  had  genius.  Her 
father  had  wisely  taught  her  that  it  was  a  quality  to  be  re- 
spected, until  it  seemed  to  her  something  detached  from  herself, 
something  to  be  dutifully  venerated,  almost  like  Mary,  the 
Virgin.  Occasionally  it  even  became  a  nuisance.  She  found  it 
irritating  when  other  little  girls  treated  her  with  diffidence  and 
awe,  not  as  they  did  each  other.  For  her  it  was  no  harder  to 
divorce  the  child  from  the  artist  than  it  had  been  for  the  lover 
in  her  opera  to  change  from  mouse  to  man,  and  no  witch  was 
needed  to  show  her  how. 


TERESA  CARRENO  61 

In  the  fall  of  1863 — Teresita  had  continued  to  play  here  and 
there  as  occasion  presented  itself — there  came  a  breath-taking 
invitation.  President  Lincoln  wished  to  hear  Teresita  in  the 
White  House.  Manuel  Antonio  forgot  his  ill  health,  Clorinda's 
needle  shuttled  in  and  out  more  busily  than  ever.  So  significant 
an  honor  warranted  a  new  dress. 

Although  the  letter  from  the  White  House  stressed  that  Ter- 
esita would  play  quite  informally  for  the  family  alone,  it  was 
of  importance  that  every  detail  be  perfect,  especially  the  pro- 
gram, which  Manuel  Antonio  planned  and  replanned  until  it 
suited  him  completely.  He  did  not  concur  in  Teresita's  abject 
devotion  to  Gottschalk  and  his  music.  Secretly  glad  not  to  have 
his  daughter  exposed  too  often  to  the  influence  of  this  artist, 
his  own  taste  leaned  more  and  more  strongly  in  the  direction 
of  the  classics.  Whatever  suggestions  he  gave  Teresita  at  this 
time  rebounded  from  a  mind  negatively  set.  She  refused  to  com- 
mit herself  in  advance  to  any  particular  compositions.  Neither 
would  she  be  moved  to  take  the  occasion  seriously  enough  to 
practice  for  it.  The  more  she  felt  her  father's  anxiety,  the  more 
nonchalant  she  appeared.  On  the  way  to  the  White  House, 
even,  she  assumed  complete  indifference  to  his  advice  on  proper 
deportment  and  procedure.  He  urged  her  to  begin  with  a  Bach 
"Invention,"  to  which  Teresita  said  nothing,  having  already 
made  up  her  mind  that  nobody  should  dictate  to  her. 

The  formality  of  presentation  went  off  without  incident.  The 
Lincolns  were  friendly  and  natural.  Time  came  for  the  music. 
Teresita  tried  the  piano  stool ;  it  squeaked  and  was  unsteady.  She 
ran  her  hands  over  the  keys ;  the  action  was  hard,  and  she  frankly 
registered  complaint.  At  a  look  from  her  parent  she  decided  to 
begin.  Bach,  indeed !  Striking  a  few  introductory  chords  with  a 
disagreeable  clang  that  made  her  father  jump,  she  plunged  of  all 
things  into  Gottschalk's  "Marche  de  Nuit,"  then  not  giving  her 
father  even  a  second's  chance  to  object,  she  modulated  into  the 
"Last  Hope"  and  not  inappropriately  ended  with  his  "Dying 
Poet."  The  President  and  his  family  found  nothing  amiss  with 
her  choice.  Then  abruptly  she  jumped  from  the  stool,  declar- 


62  TERESA  CARRENO 

ing  that  she  would  play  no  more  on  a  piano  so  dreadfully  out 
of  tune.  Her  father  but  for  his  Urbanidad  would  have  had  a 
nervous  breakdown  on  the  spot.  It  was  Mr.  Lincoln  who  saved 
the  situation.  Very  quietly  and  with  his  irresistible  kindness 
he  asked,  "Teresita,  do  you  know  my  favorite  song,  'Listen  to 
the  Mocking  Bird'  ?"  Teresita  nodded.  "Would  you  play  it  for 
me?  It  would  give  me  great  pleasure."  She  condescended  to 
announce  the  tune,  and  with  that  for  a  portal,  suddenly  in- 
spired, she  made  her  way  through  an  endlessly  winding  path 
of  improvised  variations,  stopping  at  last  only  from  sheer  ex- 
haustion. Her  father  wiped  his  forehead.  "What  a  fiasco!"  He 
did  not  see  that  there  were  tears  in  Mr.  Lincoln's  eyes.  Mrs. 
Lincoln  too  had  swayed  sympathetically  to  the  familiar  rhythm. 
Only  Tad,  the  Harvard  Senior,  looking  out  of  the  window,  was 
obviously  bored.  Manuel  Antonio,  impatient  that  the  audience 
be  terminated,  at  last  bowed  himself  out  of  hearing  with  pro- 
fuse apologies. 

On  her  tenth  birthday  Teresita  again  found  herself  playing 
upon  the  familiar  stage  of  the  Music  Hall  in  Boston.  This  time 
there  was  a  rival  attraction  in  the  city,  the  "Sanitary  Fair."  In 
spite  of  it  she  was  not  forgotten.  The  announcement  of  her 
concert  read:  "Teresita  Carreno's  first  Grand  Concert,  Tuesday 
evening,  December  22nd,  1863,  on  which  occasion  she  will  be 
assisted  by  the  eminent  organist  B.  J.  Lang,  who  will  display 
the  powers  of  the  great  organ."  It  was  a  new  one,  and  a  part  of 
the  returns  from  the  concert  was  to  be  used  to  help  pay  for  it. 
An  organ  "Prelude  and  Fugue"  by  Bach  opened  the  perform- 
ance. Teresita  played  the  "Marche  de  Nuit"  of  miserable 
memory,  and,  after  an  organ  version  of  the  "Overture  to  Eg- 
mont,"  the  paraphrase  by  Liszt  of  Verdi's  Rigoletto.  Another 
recent  acquisition  was  played  by  Teresita,  a  grand  caprice  on 
"La  Sonnambula"  in  transcription  by  Thalberg.  After  this  she 
added  several  things  of  her  own,  a  set  of  variations  on  Gott- 
schalk  dances  among  them.  Mr.  Dwight  again  registered  a  com- 
plaint: 


TERESA  CARRENO  63 

The  two  things  do  not  match  in  any  way;  the  organ  sounds  pur- 
poseless, the  piano  feeble.  [But  he  was  compelled  to  concede:]  She 
has  gained  much  power,  certainty  in  executing  difficulties,  intelligent 
conception,  while  her  touch  has  a  fine,  vital,  sympathetic  quality. 
The  most  fresh  and  individual  were  the  little  compositions  of  her  own 
which  really  show  music  to  be  the  world  she  is  most  at  home  in. 

[Other  critics  were  more  voluble:]  Her  figure  has  gained  in  full- 
ness and  strength,  and  there  is  no  suggestion  of  overwork  in  her 
hearty  laugh  and  hundred  caprices.  If  her  playing  was  before  re- 
markable for  a  child,  it  would  now  be  remarkable  for  a  woman. 
She  has  acquired  new  command  over  the  mechanism,  and  where 
there  were  formerly  blurs  and  inconsistencies  of  reading,  all  is  now 
clear  and  coherent.  .  .  .  The  early  maturity  of  her  tropic  blood 
manifests  itself. 

Teresita's  birthday  present  from  her  father  was  a  large  book 
bound  in  bright  red  Morocco  leather,  hand-tooled,  and  in- 
scribed in  letters  of  gold,  "Al  Genio."  The  blank  leaves  were 
multicolored.  In  it  Teresita's  concerts  from  the  beginning  were 
to  be  recorded  through  criticisms  and  other  clippings.  It  was 
carefully  kept  in  Manuel  Antonio's  fine,  neat  handwriting  un- 
til her  years  as  a  prodigy  were  over. 

A  private  soiree  had  taken  place  before  the  concert  in  the 
Music  Hall.  After  a  Spanish  dance  of  her  own  she  had  added 
a  polka  completed  that  morning.  In  it  the  reviewer  finds  her 
"as  classical  as  the  most  classic."  The  Grand  Concert  was  to  be 
immediately  followed  by  another  in  which  every  seat  in  the 
hall  was  to  sell  for  fifty  cents.  A  felon  on  one  of  her  fingers  in- 
terfered with  the  plan  and  threatened  to  incapacitate  her  for 
some  time,  putting  an  abrupt  end  to  this  Boston  visit. 

For  three  months  Teresita  had  vanished  completely  from  the 
professional  horizon  to  appear  again  in  the  spring  of  1864  at  a 
private  gathering  of  about  a  hundred  people  at  the  Carreno 
residence.  A  distinguished  audience,  including  Major  General 
Dix,  was  assembled  to  hear  her.  Teresita  played  a  Beethoven 
sonata  and  Thalberg's  "Les  Huguenots."  Following  immedi- 
ately upon  this  soiree  a  New  York  concert  in  Dodworth  Hall 


64  TERESA  CARRENO 

on  Broadway  at  Eleventh  Street  was  so  successful  that  it  had  to 
be  repeated  on  April  18.  Now  it  was  Philadelphia's  turn.  As- 
sisted by  a  company  of  brilliant  vocalists,  Teresita  played  on 
April  21  and  22  with  Mason's  "Silver  Springs"  as  a  now-popular 
newcomer  on  her  repertoire. 

In  Baltimore  Teresita  remained  for  more  than  a  week.  The 
experiment  of  engaging  the  monumental  Assembly  Hall  and 
of  selling  tickets  at  fifty  cents  each  did  not  at  first  hearing  pro- 
duce the  large  audience  expected,  but  Teresita  appeared  in  her 
very  prettiest  dress  and  in  her  best  form.  As  a  new  departure 
the  program  embodied  an  improvisation  on  modern  airs.  Ter- 
esita had  suggested  it  herself  and  felt  so  much  at  home  that  she 
could  be  heard  above  the  piano,  singing  along  with  it  in  her 
clear  and  shrill  soprano.  Wreaths  and  a  first  gold  watch  were 
her  material  souvenirs.  Day  after  day  she  appeared  in  smaller 
public  events,  or  in  private  entertainments,  at  last,  most  ex- 
clusive of  all,  within  the  silence  of  convent  walls. 

The  strain  of  late  hours,  irregular  meals,  and  social  duties 
was  beginning  to  tell  on  both  father  and  daughter.  The  tempo 
of  living  had  again  been  forced  beyond  natural  limits,  and  signs 
of  its  unwholesome  effect  were  noticeable  in  Teresita.  She  was 
disobedient,  demanding,  and  generally  difficult,  nervous,  much 
thinner,  and  growing  too  fast.  It  was  time  to  call  a  halt.  Manuel 
Antonio's  own  health  needed  the  repairing  influence  of  home 
and  time,  little  Manuel  the  authority  and  discipline  of  a  father, 
and  both  children,  having  advanced  beyond  Clorinda's  powers 
of  instruction,  systematic  schooling.  Money  was  no  longer  the 
chief  worry.  Manuel  Antonio  now  knew  enough  English  to 
give  music  lessons  even  to  monolingual  Americans.  So  for 
more  than  a  year,  Teresita  flourished  in  the  impenetrable  silence 
so  tantalizing  to  the  biographer.  Meanwhile  in  Manuel  An- 
tonio the  great  objective  of  every  Venezuelan,  to  see  Paris,  had 
time  to  crystallize. 

Teresita  was  in  her  twelfth  year,  but  appeared  older,  giving 
promise  of  great  beauty.  She  had  lost  the  chubby  appeal  of 


TERESA  CARRENO  65 

childhood  and  its  unself-conscious,  demonstrative  charm.  Slen- 
der, with  a  nobility  of  carriage  that  made  her  look  taller  than 
her  size,  her  curls  tied  back  simply  with  a  wide  ribbon,  she  was 
the  type  of  aristocratic  Spanish  girlhood.  Liberal  schooling  in 
poverty  and  profession  gave  her  the  appearance  of  a  person 
ready  for  emergency,  with  a  will  to  conquer. 

On  March  31,  1866,  the  four  Carrenos  braved  the  ocean,  this 
time  on  the  steamer  City  of  Washington.  Scarcely  out  of  har- 
bor the  ship  hit  a  sandbank,  shivering  with  the  force  of  im- 
pact. Only  a  few  hours  of  delay  and  she  was  afloat  again.  No- 
body was  particularly  apprehensive.  Two  days  later  a  sudden 
report!  The  boiler  had  cracked.  Caution  should  have  dictated 
a  return  to  the  nearer  port,  but  the  captain  preferred  to  trust 
to  his  invisible  star.  So  on  they  went  under  sail.  Passengers  grew 
restless;  the  sky  clouded;  stormy  weather  blew  up;  high  waves 
washed  wildly  over  tipping  decks.  On  the  seventh  day  the  rud- 
der, weakened  by  the  collision,  broke  off  and  was  swept  away. 
The  City  of  Washington  tossed  about  from  wave  to  wave, 
drifting  farther  and  farther  out  of  the  usual  sea  lane.  Rescue 
appeared  more  and  more  improbable,  then  hopeless;  food  was 
becoming  scarce.  Among  the  passengers  there  was  stark  terror. 
The  women,  those  who  were  not  too  ill  to  care,  prayed  and 
whimpered.  The  men,  expecting  to  be  drowned  in  each  suc- 
cessive assault  of  the  storm,  preferred  not  to  meet  death  in  their 
senses,  and  drowned  themselves  prematurely  in  drink.  The  only 
stabilizing  element  in  this  chaos  seems  to  have  been  a  little 
girl.  Quite  calmly  she  tried  to  reassure  her  despairing  mother. 

"Don't  cry,  Mamacita,  we  shall  arrive  safely,  I  am  sure." 

Clorinda  was  silenced  and  amazed  by  her  confidence. 

"But  how  do  you  know,  my  child?"  she  asked. 

Teresita  replied  unshaken,  "I  don't  know  it;  I  feel  it." 

This  was  an  early  instance  of  those  rare  flashes  of  intuition, 
almost  clairvoyance,  that  accompanied  Teresita  throughout  her 
life.  Had  she  always  followed  their  dictates  later  on,  she  would 
have  made  fewer  mistakes. 

Days  later,  true  to  Teresita's  prophecy,  there  appeared  upon 


66  TERESA  CARRENO 

the  horizon  the  hulk  of  a  large  steamer,  the  Propontis.  It  was 
actually  answering  the  distress  signal  of  the  City  of  Washington 
and  approaching  to  her  rescue.  The  passengers  were  transferred 
at  infinite  risk  by  being  swung  out  over  the  angry  ocean  on  pul- 
leys in  a  barrel,  one  by  one,  and  then  lowered  into  the  dancing 
lifeboats  that  served  as  go-between.  Intermittent  lightning  and 
thunder  added  a  lurid  element  of  melodrama  to  the  scene.  A 
day  and  a  half  of  heroic  effort,  and  the  250  passengers  were  all 
safely  carried  over,  taking  with  them  only  the  clothes  they 
wore.  The  City  of  Washington  was  left  to  dance  until  called  for 
and  was  towed  in  weeks  later.  Quite  in  keeping  with  this  hap- 
less voyage,  the  Propontis,  too,  developed  engine  trouble  and 
proceeded  under  sail.  It  was  in  no  way  equipped  to  supply  a 
double  set  of  passengers  with  food.  Careful  rationing  had  al- 
most reached  the  bread-and-water  level  when  Liverpool  was 
sighted. 


The  concert  season  in  Paris  was  ending.  The  Carreno  pocket- 
book  desperately  needed  replenishing.  A  few  recitals  would  be 
helpful.  Manuel  Antonio  had  counted  upon  them.  Without  a 
thought  of  rest  the  voyagers  took  the  first  opportunity  to  cross 
the  Channel,  arriving  in  France  on  May  3,  1866.  After  a  month 
on  the  ocean,  modest  hotel  rooms  in  Paris  seemed  Walhalla 
itself,  and  before  the  pavements  felt  quite  solid  under  her  feet 
Teresita  was  making  new  friends.  Her  French,  with  its  amus- 
ing mixture  of  Yankee  and  Spanish-American  tang,  was  pass- 
able, although  on  her  tongue  the  gently  curving  line  of  French 
speech  changed  into  brittle  ups  and  downs,  like  the  waves  from 
which  she  had  so  recently  escaped. 

Teresita's  first  conquest  was  Mme.  £rard,  at  whose  house  she 
met  many  musicians  of  quality.  The  story  of  the  shipwreck  was 
a  potent  introduction  in  itself,  and  when  Teresita  was  quite 
able  to  arouse  enthusiasm  by  her  playing  without  making  ex- 
cuses for  a  pianoless  month,  Mme.  firard  at  once  resolved  to  do 
all  she  could  for  the  child.  First  of  all  a  piano  was  sent  to  Ter- 
esita's hotel  that  she  might  practice.  Next  she  arranged  for  a 
hearing  before  two  competent  pianists,  M.  Delcourt  and  M. 
Kriiger,  on  May  5,  just  two  days  after  Teresita's  arrival.  The 
success  of  this  preliminary  audition  was  such  that  Mme.  Erard 
was  moved  to  plan  more  important  ones.  On  May  7  she  pre- 
sented her  protegee  to  M.  Quidant,  well  known  as  a  composer, 
and  to  M.  Vivier,  the  popular  virtuoso  of  the  horn.  M.  Quidant 
was  stirred  by  Teresita's  sympathetic  interpretation  of  Chopin, 
but  it  was  the  "Marche  Solennelle"  of  Gottschalk  that  won  over 
M.  Vivier.  By  happy  coincidence  this  favorite  of  Paris  society 
was  about  to  stage  his  annual  concert  in  the  Salle  firard.  It  had 
not  been  his  intention  to  number  a  piano  soloist  among  the  per- 
formers assisting  him.  After  hearing  the  new  prodigy  he 
quickly  changed  his  mind.  A  debut  under  more  favorable  aus- 
pices could  hardly  be  imagined.  Besides  offering  promise  of  a 
fee  to  help  bolster  up  family  finances,  Vivier's  concerts  were 
always  well  attended  and  by  the  right  people. 


68  TERESA  CARRENO 

Delighted  with  the  playing  of  her  first  hand,  and  always 
mindful  of  the  closing  of  the  concert  season,  Mme.  Erard 
promptly  dealt  another.  It  proved  to  be  an  even  more  lucky 
one  for  Teresita.  On  the  evening  of  May  10  father  and  daughter 
were  received  by  the  aged  Rossini  himself  in  his  ornate  apart- 
ment, 2  rue  de  la  Chaussee  d'Antin.  A  spark  of  instant  liking 
flared  between  the  little  foreigner  and  the  maestro.  To  Teresita 
celebrities  were  just  people  like  any  others.  Differences  in  years, 
she  had  also  learned,  were  not  necessarily  a  barrier  to  friend- 
ship and  understanding.  She  for  one  was  never  more  happy 
than  in  the  company  of  those  of  another  generation.  At  once  com- 
pletely at  home  in  a  setting  pervaded  by  Rossini's  geniality, 
Teresita  took  her  seat  at  the  piano,  while  Rossini  as  was  his 
custom  prepared  to  listen  from  an  adjoining  room.  In  compli- 
ment to  her  host,  the  composer,  she  chose  the  "Prayer"  from 
Mo'ise.  As  the  last  note  faded,  Rossini  crossed  the  room,  ap- 
plauding and  shouting  "Bravo,  my  child!  You  are  a  great 
artist!"  Turning  to  Manuel  Antonio  who  might  well  feel 
honored  in  his  own  right  as  a  teacher,  he  analyzed  his  impres- 
sions more  precisely:  "I  do  not  understand  how  this  little  girl 
plays  as  she  does.  The  evenness  and  clearness  of  her  arpeggios 
are  as  astonishing  as  the  clarity  with  which  she  brings  out  the 
melody  of  the  prayer."  Spontaneously  moved  to  be  of  practical 
use,  he  urged  that  Teresita  be  presented  in  London,  volunteer- 
ing to  pave  the  way.  Then  at  his  request  Teresita  played  the 
"Ballade"  of  her  composing.  Rossini  applauded  enraptured,  in- 
sisting that  she  find  a  place  for  it  on  her  first  program.  But  this 
Teresita  was  too  modest  to  do.  Although  visitors  were  expected 
to  depart  before  ten  o'clock,  Rossini  would  not  let  his  new 
friends  leave  before  he  had  heard  Clorinda's  favorite,  the  "Fan- 
taisie"  on  airs  from  Norma.  In  one  evening  the  great  artist  had 
become  the  staunch  ally  of  the  prodigy.  Through  his  influence 
many  an  obstacle  was  removed,  many  a  door  opened.  As  if  he 
were  her  personal  agent,  he  commandeered  one  after  another 
of  his  acquaintances  to  the  service  of  his  "little  colleague,"  as  he 
liked  to  call  her.  " Allez  au  concert  de  Vivier.  Vous  y  entendrez 


i866 


1867 


1868 


1870 


1872 


Teresita  in  Paris  and  London 


TERESA  CARRENO  69 

une  veritable  merveille."  With  such  a  formidable  protagonist 
Teresita  might  well  prepare  for  her  Paris  debut  with  all  eager- 
ness. 

Before  this  determining  event  another  meeting,  equally  sig- 
nificant, was  brought  about,  again  by  the  consummate  social 
strategy  of  Mme.  firard.  She  had  persuaded  a  somewhat  reluc- 
tant Franz  Liszt,  in  Paris  visiting  his  daughter,  Blandine  Ol- 
livier,  to  come  to  the  firard  warerooms,  rue  du  Mail,  on  the 
morning  of  Vivier's  concert,  May  14,  to  hear  Teresita. 

With  her  father  and  mother  she  was  the  first  to  arrive. 
Shortly  after,  the  door  of  the  private  room  opened  to  admit 
the  great  master,  on  his  arm,  as  usual,  a  beautiful  young  lady  of 
high  aristocracy.  Following  him  was  a  group  of  three  men. 
Teresita  with  her  always  ready  eye  for  the  ludicrous,  noticed 
that  they  were  amusingly  alike  in  height  and  air,  but  for  the 
fact  that  the  one  in  the  middle  was  as  fat  as  the  others  were 
thin.  They  were  presented  as  three  young  pianists,  with  signifi- 
cant careers  before  them,  Saint-Saens,  Jaell,  and  Plante.  But  the 
magnetism  of  the  great  Liszt  completely  overshadowed  the 
others,  and  for  Teresita  he  alone  continued  to  exist.  After  the 
preliminary  niceties  were  over,  and  Liszt  had  given  strict  order 
not  to  permit  anybody  to  enter  the  room,  he  patted  Teresita, 
whose  timid  look  was  misleading,  on  the  shoulder.  "Now,  my 
child,  in  order  to  make  you  feel  quite  at  home  with  me,  I  am 
going  to  play  for  you.  Then  you  shall  play  for  me."  Beginning 
with  a  few  soft  measures  of  anticipation  he  drifted  into  the 
andante  from  one  of  Beethoven's  "Sonates,"  playing  as  only  he 
could.  It  reminded  Teresita  of  Gottschalk,  yet  reluctantly  she 
had  to  concede  that  her  idol  had  more  than  met  his  match. 
With  childlike  loyalty  she  decided  on  the  spot  to  play  one  of  his 
compositions  for  Liszt.  Her  father  had  long  ago  learned  that  it 
was  wiser  not  to  make  suggestions.  When  Liszt  led  Teresita  to 
the  piano,  she  began  at  once  with  the  "Last  Hope."  Uninten- 
tionally it  was  a  good  choice.  Liszt,  knowing  of  Gottschalk  by 
hearsay,  had  never  heard  anything  he  had  written.  Coming 
prepared  to  be  politely  bored  for  as  short  a  time  as  possible,  his 


70  TERESA  CARRENO 

interest  was  arrested  instead  by  this  quiet  little  girl,  who  had  the 
charm  that  he  admired  in  women,  and  the  common  sense  to 
bring  him  something  new.  But  Teresita  had  not  only  succeeded 
in  capturing  his  interest;  she  knew  how  to  hold  and  intensify 
it.  As  she  played  Liszt  stood  up,  slowly  taking  his  place  behind 
her.  He  listened  to  the  end.  Then,  placing  both  hands  upon 
her  head,  he  said :  "Little  girl,  God  has  given  you  the  greatest  of 
his  gifts,  genius.  Work,  develop  your  talents.  Above  all  remain 
true  to  yourself,  and  in  time  you  will  be  one  of  us!"  This  bless- 
ing engraved  itself  on  her  memory.  Years  later  she  could  still 
at  will  feel  those  hands  upon  her  head.  This  experience  was  to 
her  "the  proudest  of  my  souvenirs." 

Liszt  spoke  to  Manuel  Antonio:  "If  you  will  bring  your 
gifted  daughter  to  me  in  Rome,  I  shall  gladly  take  charge  of 
her  further  education."  Then,  turning  away,  he  noticed  that 
contrary  to  his  express  instructions  the  room  was  filling  with 
curious  people.  Quickly  taking  up  his  hat,  he  bowed  to  each  new- 
comer with  elaborate,  sardonic  formality  and  left  without  an- 
other word. 

Teresita  was  not  permitted  to  follow  Liszt  to  Rome,  where  he 
was  to  write  that  strange  final  chapter  of  his  career.  Manuel 
Antonio  was  poor,  perhaps  he  could  not  afford  the  journey;  he 
was  proud,  perhaps  he  was  unwilling  to  accept  favors,  know- 
ing that  Liszt  taught  with  no  thought  of  remuneration.  He, 
the  father,  was  particular  about  the  proprieties;  perhaps  Liszt's 
reputation  made  him  hesitate  to  entrust  his  daughter  to  such  an 
influence;  or  on  the  other  hand  perhaps  he  simply  felt  that 
Teresita  needed  more  regular  and  methodical  teaching  than  she 
would  in  all  probability  receive  from  Liszt.  Whatever  the  rea- 
son, this  first  meeting  was  destined  to  be  their  last. 

The  news  that  this  engaging  phenomenon  of  twelve  had  won 
the  acclaim  of  a  Rossini  and  a  Liszt  spread  through  musical 
Paris  like  a  call  to  arms,  with  the  result  that  the  Salle  firard 
was  crowded,  not  so  much  in  honor  of  Vivier,  but  rather  that 
curiosity  might  find  satisfaction.  The  massive  form  of  Rossini, 


TERESA  CARRENO  71 

surrounded  by  the  devotees  he  had  enlisted,  was  the  focal  point 
within  the  audience.  Friendly  applause  greeted  Teresita  as  she 
appeared  upon  the  platform  in  her  only  concert  gown  of  black 
silk,  its  severity  relieved  by  a  yoke  of  sheer  black  net.  Her  single 
ornament  was  a  cross  of  gold  upon  a  fine  chain.  Soft  curls  were 
allowed  to  fall  becomingly  at  will. 

Again  the  "Prayer"  from  Mo'ise,  this  time  with  Gottschalk's 
version  of  the  "Miserere"  from  //  Trovatore  as  companion,  was 
her  offering  of  the  evening.  It  aroused  comment  that  Teresita 
played  entirely  without  notes.  From  beginning  to  end  she  was 
transcendently  successful.  The  criticisms  were  as  extravagant  as 
was  for  Paris  the  enthusiasm  of  an  unusually  attentive  audience. 
They  reached  heights  of  description  and  comparison,  but  it  must 
be  said  that  her  graces  of  person  shared  the  columns  devoted 
to  her  in  the  journals  on  equal  terms  with  her  accomplishments. 
"She  is  beautiful  as  Galatea  emerging  anew  from  the  chisel  of 
Pygmalion,"  said  one;  and  another:  "Her  success  is  dizzying; 
she  plays  like  Liszt;  she  is  a  star;  she  is  an  angel;  she  is  a 
genius;  she  is  a  fairy."  And  more  merrily  he  of  I'tLvenement: 
"There  has  just  arrived  in  Paris  a  little  girl — if  she  reads  this 
she  is  going  to  be  furious — I  wish  to  say,  a  very  young  person, 
who  is  a  pure  wonder.  She  is  a  pianist  with  power  that  is  really 
terrific,  a  Liszt  in  petticoats.  I  am  told  under  oath  that  this  lit- 
tle Spaniard  is  simply  a  star  that  is  rising.  Let  me  then  record 
its  first  gleam."  To  an  uninhibited  enthusiast  she  has  "the  deli- 
cate feeling  of  Bellini,  the  dramatic  energy  of  Verdi,  the  tender 
expression  of  Mendelssohn,  and  the  facile  improvisation  of 
Beethoven!" 

In  spite  of  the  critics  who  had  complained  about  the  number 
of  musical  events  in  this  supersaturated  season,  over  three  hun- 
dred of  them  in  all,  there  was  no  rest  in  sight  for  Teresita.  Paris 
salons,  weary  of  the  empty  sophisticated  glitter  of  social  life  in 
the  Second  Empire,  welcomed  the  freshness  that  a  highbred 
young  girl  from  strange  lands  brought  into  them,  quite  aside 
from  the  asset  of  her  parentage  and  playing.  On  the  very  day 
after  the  Vivier  concert  Teresita  played  in  the  salon  of  Mme.  la 


72  TERESA  CARRENO 

Baronne  de  Romand  before  an  audience  allegedly  of  le  meilleur 
monde.  On  this  evening  the  gathering  was  not  true  to  form. 
During  Teresita's  playing  of  the  "Rigoletto"  fantasia  it  is  re- 
ported that  almost  every  note  was  interrupted  by  applause. 

Invitations  to  Rossini's  famous  "Saturdays"  were  more  cov- 
eted than  those  to  the  salons  of  Napoleon  III.  In  spite  of  the 
palatial  dimensions  of  the  apartment  it  was  scarcely  large 
enough  for  all  the  people  that  crowded  the  drawing  room  to 
the  point  of  suffocation.  Rossini  was  never  more  in  his  element. 
These  soirees  satisfied  his  craving  for  adulation  and  cost  him 
very  little.  Friends  saw  to  it  that  the  larder  and  the  wine  cellar 
were  always  liberally  stocked  with  all  that  was  most  delicate 
and  rare,  but  nobody  came  for  the  refreshments.  Only  strangers 
failed  to  observe  the  unspoken  rule  that  the  food  was  to  be 
seen,  not  eaten.  Plates  of  fruit,  silver,  and  porcelain  retained 
their  decorative  integrity  throughout  the  evening.  On  occasion 
a  too  inquisitive  guest  might  discover  that  a  certain  especially 
luscious  pear  had  never  grown  on  a  living  tree.  Madame  Ros- 
sini, fittingly  named  Olympe,  with  her  long  Roman  nose,  and 
in  a  veritable  armor  of  jewels,  saw  to  it  that  decorum  and 
thrift  prevailed.  Why  did  people  beg  for  invitations  to  these 
evenings  ?  There  was  after  all  sure  to  be  good  music,  good  con- 
versation— and  Rossini. 

It  was  at  such  a  gathering  that  Teresita  first  met  Blandine 
Ollivier,  sister  of  the  more  famous  Cosima,  who  became  the 
wife  of  Richard  Wagner.  This  young  hostess,  herself  a  sensitive 
pianist  only  six  years  older  than  Teresita,  felt  sympathetically 
drawn  to  the  child,  and  to  further  the  acquaintance  decided  to 
take  lessons  of  one  so  highly  praised  by  Liszt.  Once  a  week  she 
climbed  the  long  flights  that  led  to  Teresita's  apartment  for  an 
hour  of  music,  and  since  at  one  time  or  another  everybody  of 
consequence  in  Paris  was  sure  to  be  seen  in  the  Ollivier  salon, 
it  was  natural  that  Teresita  too  should  be  drawn  into  that  circle. 

Manuel  Antonio  realized  that  to  reap  full  benefit  from  this 
first  appearance  it  should  be  followed  up  by  a  second,  a  con- 
cert in  which  Teresita  must  be  the  principal  performer.  Even 


Letter  from  Rossini  introducing  Teresita  to  Arditi,  composer 

and  conductor 


74  TERESA  CARRENO 

though  the  season  was  practically  closed,  a  bona  fide  shipwreck 
was  too  heaven-sent  a  piece  of  propaganda  to  be  deferred.  Ter- 
esita  accordingly  announced  a  concert  of  her  own  in  the  Salle 
Erard  for  the  evening  of  June  6,  1866.  A  singer,  a  violinist,  and 
a  dramatic  reader  were  found  willing  to  share  in  the  program 
as  minor  satellites.  This  time  Teresita  had  the  courage  to  place 
her  Norma  "Fantaisie"  on  the  program  in  company  with  Lucia 
and  Trovatore.  The  "C  sharp  minor  Sonate"  of  Beethoven,  "the 
rock  of  mediocrities  and  child  prodigies,"  represented  the  clas- 
sics. One  critic  found  in  it  nothing  out  of  taste.  "Only  the  finale 
was  taken  a  little  too  furiously."  All  mentioned  her  vigorous 
and  clear  playing,  her  unbelievably  casual  ease  in  the  midst  of 
high-pressure  difficulties,  and  the  very  one  who  had  inveighed 
most  loudly  against  the  surfeit  of  concerts  unbent  enough  to 
say  "Teresita  is  not  the  kind  of  prodigy  that  makes  us  hold  her 
parents  in  horror,"  and  called  her  concert  le  bouquet  de  la  fin. 

On  the  following  day  father  and  daughter  were  on  their  way 
to  London  carrying  with  them  the  promised  letters  from  Ros- 
sini, one  to  Arditi,  the  composer  and  conductor,  another  to 
Mme.  Puzzi,  a  teacher  of  singing  whose  salon  was  a  musical 
center.  It  read: 

Madame  Puzzi: — 

I  begin  by  telling  you  that  I  am  not  in  the  habit  of  recommending 
mediocrity!  The  person  who  will  present  this  letter,  Teresita  Car- 
refio  (who  is  endowed  by  nature  with  all  her  gifts)  is  a  charming 
pianist,  pupil  of  the  celebrated  Gottschalk.  She  is  going  to  London, 
accompanied  by  her  parents,  very  distinguished  people,  with  the 
purpose  of  being  heard,  and,  as  she  deserves,  of  being  admired. 
Teresita  has  need  of  a  powerful  support  in  this  city,  and  I  ask  for 
your  all-powerful  one  in  favor  of  this  already  celebrated  artist,  who, 
in  spite  of  the  deluge  of  pianists  who  pour  in  from  all  parts  of  the 
world,  has  excited  great  admiration  in  Paris.  Be  friendly  to  her, 
Madame  Puzzi,  and  count  upon  the  gratitude  of  your  devoted 
servant.  G.  Rossini 

Paris,  June  6th,  1866 
To  Madame  Puzzi,  Artist 


TERESA  CARRENO  75 

Madame  Puzzi's  drawing  room  determined  the  rise  or  fall 
of  many  a  young  pretender  to  the  throne  of  art.  In  appearance 
she  was  anything  but  attractive.  Teresita  found  her  positively 
depressing,  an  effect  that  ugliness  in  any  form  had  upon  her. 
Yet  there  was  magnetism  in  the  personality  of  one  whose 
superior  intelligence  had  made  her  the  power  she  was.  As  Ros- 
sini had  wished,  she  took  Teresita  under  her  wing,  saw  that 
she  met  those  who  might  be  helpful,  and  found  patronesses  for 
the  concert  which  she  advised  her  to  give. 

Everywhere  the  "distinguished  gentleman"  and  his  radiant 
daughter  met  with  cordial  welcome,  which  seemed  to  justify 
the  experiment  of  a  matinee  in  St.  James  Minor  Hall  on  July 
23.  The  first  appearance  of  a  Venezuelan  artist  in  London 
proved  to  be  an  honor  to  the  land  of  her  birth.  There  to  her 
delight  Teresita  was  not  to  be  considered  as  a  child  prodigy, 
but  as  a  musician  among  musicians.  She  rose  to  the  challenge 
with  Norma  and  //  Trovatore  to  which  she  added  the  "Ballade 
in  A  flat"  by  Chopin  and  the  so-called  "Moonlight  Sonata." 
The  artists  who  in  plentiful  number  contributed  to  the  pro- 
gram included  two  conductors.  The  reviewers  credited  Teresita 
with  a  proficiency  "which  would  become  an  artist  twice  or 
thrice  her  age."  Her  execution  was  pronounced  practically 
faultless.  Many  prominent  musicians  were  included  in  the  well- 
sized  and  fashionable  audience.  The  only  regret  was  that  so 
fine  a  pianist  should  have  introduced  herself  too  late  in  the 
season  to  admit  of  closer  acquaintance.  Returning  to  Paris  Man- 
uel Antonio  could  feel  satisfied  that  at  least  the  ground  had 
been  broken  and  made  ready  for  the  planting  of  a  future  year. 

Greater  than  for  gathering  laurels  was  the  need  for  making  a 
living.  Manuel  Antonio's  reputation  gradually  brought  him  a 
fairly  large  class  of  pupils.  But  not  for  one  instant  did  he  lose 
sight  of  the  main  reason  for  coming  to  Paris,  Teresita's  musical 
education.  The  Conservatoire  of  Paris  was  then  as  now  the 
most  direct  line  of  approach  to  excellence  in  the  art  and  the 
craft  of  music.  M.  Marmontel,  its  head,  had  heard  Teresita 


76  TERESA  CARRENO 

play  in  her  concert  on  June  6  and  had  been  one  of  those  to 
greet  her  enthusiastically  in  the  intermission.  There  was  no 
trouble  in  gaining  a  hearing.  Teresita  was  examined  in  this 
school  of  long  tradition — and  refused.  The  objections  were  two- 
fold. Not  only  was  she  a  foreigner,  but  the  judges  were  obliged 
to  admit  that  Teresita  had  already  advanced  beyond  their  re- 
quirements for  graduation.  M.  Marmontel  did  invite  her  to 
appear  in  rehearsal  with  the  orchestra  of  the  Conservatoire,  al- 
though their  concerts  were  over  for  the  season.  Georges  Mat- 
thias, pupil  of  Chopin,  was  ready  to  initiate  Teresita  into  this 
master's  ways  of  playing,  and  from  now  on  Chopin  became 
and  remained  a  favorite  composer  in  her  repertoire.  Lessons  in 
harmony  and  counterpoint  were  given  her  by  M.  Bazin.  Crea- 
tively speaking  Teresita's  most  fruitful  years  were  beginning. 

While  father  and  daughter  were  deep  in  their  artistic  pur- 
suits, Clorinda  was  quietly  exploiting  her  talents  as  a  home- 
maker.  With  musical  Paris  away  on  summer  vacation  the  Car- 
renos  lived  frugally  and  busily,  preparing  for  better  things  to 
come,  happily  unaware  of  the  impending  thunderbolt. 

One  day  Teresita  was  composing  while  Manuel  Antonio  sat 
at  the  desk  close  by.  Clorinda  answered  a  knock  at  the  door 
and  admitted  a  boy  carrying  a  number  of  beaded  funeral 
wreaths,  ordered  on  approval  at  the  request  of  the  daughter  of 
a  Venezuelan  relative  recently  deceased.  As  her  mother  held 
one  up  to  examine  it  closely,  Teresita  jumped  from  her  seat. 
"Don't  touch  it,  please,  Mamacita!"  she  entreated.  "What  non- 
sense," her  mother  rebuked  her.  Not  until  Teresita  became 
hysterical  would  she  pay  the  slightest  attention.  The  father 
understood  better.  "May  I  touch  the  wreath?"  he  asked  quietly. 
"Yes,  you  may,  but  not  mother!"  A  prophetic  warning!  Six 
weeks  later  Clorinda,  whom  Teresita  loved  more  than  she  had 
ever  been  allowed  to  show  her,  lay  dead  of  cholera  in  that  same 
room.  The  blow  was  devastating.  Little  Manuel  was  sent  away 
to  school.  New  responsibility  was  placed  on  young  shoulders 
already  too  weightily  burdened.  They  did  not  give  way  be- 
neath the  load.  The  breaking  of  their  common  tie  united  father 


TERESA  CARRENO  77 

and  daughter  more  closely  than  ever.  Only  where  before  it  had 
been  the  daughter  who  depended  upon  the  father,  it  was  now 
the  father  who  looked  to  his  daughter  for  comfort.  As  for  her 
great-uncle,  Bolivar,  adversity  held  within  it  for  Teresita  the 
concentrated  essence  of  strength,  and  she  learned  to  believe  as 
he  did  that  "happiness  is  the  memory  of  sorrow  that  has  been 
vanquished."  In  a  heavy  black  silk  dress,  built  higher  at  the 
neck,  and  nearer  to  the  ground,  Teresita,  wearing  her  cross  of 
gold  and  her  cross  of  sorrow,  reentered  the  salons  and  the  con- 
cert halls  of  Paris,  where  sympathy  with  her  misfortune  made 
her  doubly  welcome. 

Manuel  Antonio  longed  for  a  change  of  scene,  for  his  own 
people,  his  own  language.  Spain,  the  home  of  his  ancestors  and 
of  Clorinda's,  was  within  reach.  For  the  moment  life  in  Paris 
was  unbearable.  So  in  the  middle  of  November  the  inseparable 
pair  set  out  upon  a  new  journey  of  conquest. 

Arrived  in  Madrid  the  usual  method  of  procedure  was  fol- 
lowed. The  Spanish  salons  were  hospitable,  with  the  regrettable 
exception  of  the  del  Toros,  Clorinda's  proud  relatives,  who  re- 
fused to  forget  that  Clorinda's  father  had  joined  the  Revolution 
in  Venezuela,  and  that  his  daughter  had  married  beneath  her 
station.  Their  crested  doors  remained  closed. 

Teresita's  first  appearance  was  in  the  salon  of  Don  Eugenio 
de  Ochoa,  the  second  in  that  of  a  celebrated  oculist  Don  Fran- 
cisco Delgado  Jugo,  who  twice  a  month  held  musical  gather- 
ings, chiefly  to  display  the  talents  of  his  gifted  wife.  Reviewing 
one  of  these,  La  Epoca  of  Madrid  compared  Teresita  to  "Goe- 
the's Mignon,  dreaming  of  the  fragrant  orange  groves  of  her 
land." 

Early  in  December,  1866,  the  time  was  ripe  for  the  experi- 
ment of  a  large  concert  with  the  collaboration  of  an  orchestra. 
It  began  the  evening  by  playing  the  "Overture"  to  the  Blac\ 
Domino  by  Auber.  Then  came  Teresita  with  Rigoletto  para- 
phrased by  Liszt.  A  polka  by  Lamotte  served  to  introduce  a 
violinist,  whom  Teresita  accompanied  in  a  fantasia  on  William 


78  TERESA  CARRENO 

Tell  by  de  Beriot  and  Osborne.  Again  the  orchestra  played  a 
short  waltz,  and  this  in  turn  was  followed  by  a  Chopin  group 
played  by  the  star  of  the  occasion.  Another  slice  of  orchestra 
in  "Les  Fiances  Tyroliens,"  and  then  for  overflowing  measure 
the  Beethoven  "C  sharp  minor  Sonate,"  to  which  Teresita  added 
one  of  her  own  waltzes  as  a  fitting  ending  to  a  "musical  mot- 
ley" not  easy  to  duplicate. 

"She  plays  the  piano  as  the  fountain  plays,"  wrote  the  critic 
of  El  Espanol,  "as  sings  the  nightingale,  as  sighs  the  zephyr. 
She  lost  her  mother  a  few  months  ago,  and  the  notes  which 
she  draws  out  of  the  piano  in  so  masterly  a  way  are  tears  that 
fall  on  the  heart,  sobs  that  move  the  soul.  Some  one  will  say 
that  the  mother  inspired  her  from  Heaven." 

This  same  gentleman  heard  Teresita  privately.  Her  father  ac- 
companied her  in  duets,  and  earned  the  comment:  "Here  too 
is  a  great  artist."  Before  the  beginning  of  the  year  1867  she  had 
played  in  the  hall  of  the  Conservatory,  in  the  Teatro  de  Oriente. 
In  every  salon  of  importance,  excepting  always  that  of  her  rela- 
tives, people  were  battling  with  each  other  to  present  her. 

Thereupon  the  pair  left  for  Zaragoza,  where  the  second  con- 
cert, given  under  the  auspices  of  the  Liceo  in  Teresita's  honor, 
was  the  most  brilliant  of  the  entire  tour.  The  regimental  band 
of  Estremadura  set  a  festive  note  with  the  "Overture"  to  Wil- 
liam Tell.  The  Declamatory  Department  assisted  with  poems, 
the  Department  of  Music  with  choruses,  and  sandwiched  in  be- 
tween opera  arias  someone  added  a  popular  note  with  the 
playing  of  a  bandurria.  The  length  of  the  program  is  left  to 
the  imagination.  Teresita  contributed  her  "Ballade,"  Liszt's 
Lucia,  Mason's  "Silver  Springs,"  and  dances  of  her  own.  On  her 
part  she  asked  a  gentleman  to  read  a  few  grateful  words  of 
farewell  in  conclusion. 

In  January,  1867,  showered  with  laurels,  with  eulogies  in  prose 
and  poetry,  with  medals  and  with  money  beyond  expectation, 
father  and  daughter  returned  to  Paris,  taking  residence  in  an 
apartment  at  2  avenue  Friedland.  All  doors  opened  as  of  them- 


TERESA  CARRENO  79 

selves  to  welcome  them  back.  Valuable  indeed  was  the  list  of 
those  for  whose  friendship  she  was  indebted  to  one  or  the 
other  of  the  salons  of  this  city.  To  Mme.  Ollivier  she  owed  her 
conquest  of  Charles  Gounod  who,  hearing  her  play  her 
"Scherzo,"  affectionately  exaggerated  its  worth  by  declaring 
publicly  that  Beethoven  himself  might  have  signed  his  name 
to  it.  It  was  Gounod  also  who  sponsored  an  introduction  to 
the  salon  of  Princess  Mathilde,  cousin  of  Napoleon  III.  To  be 
heard  there  was  the  ambition  of  every  musical  celebrity  and 
aspirant.  Musicians,  painters,  sculptors,  and  literary  personal- 
ities crowded  to  listen  within  her  doors  and,  says  he  Menestrel, 
"are  the  first  to  engage  in  conversation  during  the  perform- 
ance." One  Sunday  early  in  May  Gounod  accompanied  Tere- 
sita  to  the  palace  of  the  Princess.  He  himself  escorted  her  to 
the  piano  and  to  his  surprise  she  began  with  Liszt's  "Fantaisie" 
on  airs  from  Faust,  having  just  learned  it  in  compliment  to  the 
composer  of  the  opera.  Enthusiasm  rose  to  the  height  of  the 
sensational.  The  newspapers  gave  due  publicity.  Princess  Ma- 
thilde was  a  lovely  and  lovable  lady,  appealing  to  a  romantic 
young  girl  before  all  as  the  offspring  of  the  thoroughly  un- 
romantic  "marriage  of  Jerome  Bonaparte  and  Catherine  of 
Wurttemberg,  familiarly  known  as  the  weeping  princess.  Ma- 
thilde had  a  sad  look  very  becoming  to  her.  Like  everyone  else 
she  delighted  in  spoiling  Teresita. 

One  of  these  evenings  had  been  unusually  gay.  The  princess 
had  personally  conducted  Teresita  through  the  palace,  even 
into  her  own  bedroom  to  show  her  the  magnificent  court  robes 
she  was  accustomed  to  wear  at  the  Tuileries.  On  the  way  down 
the  broad  stairway  she  was  struck  by  the  likeness  between 
Teresita  and  the  bust  of  Napoleon  I  upon  the  landing.  The 
guests  were  called  upon  to  compare  the  two  profiles.  There  was 
a  resemblance.  The  papers  took  up  the  suggestion  and  all  but 
made  Teresita  out  to  be  an  illegitimate  daughter  of  the  great 
Bonaparte.  "Perhaps,"  said  Teresita  after  many  years  had 
passed,  "it  is  because  of  my  inborn  hatred  of  politics  that  I  was 
to  be  saddled  with  such  an  unwholesome  connection."  From 


8o  TERESA  CARRENO 

this  palace  to  the  Tuileries  would  have  been  only  a  step.  It  was 
never  taken.  Very  probably  Manuel  Antonio  did  not  value  the 
influence  of  court  standards  upon  an  adolescent  daughter. 

At  the  salon  of  the  Princess  Mathilde  Teresita  met  Auber. 
The  next  afternoon  he  climbed  the  five  flights  to  the  Carreno 
apartment.  How  long  they  must  have  seemed  to  a  man  of 
eighty!  There  he  played  parts  from  the  last  opera  he  had  com- 
posed, and  forgot  time  in  animated  conversation,  holding  Tere- 
sita captive  under  the  spell  of  his  youthf ulness  of  spirit.  Princess 
Mathilde  also  introduced  Teresita  to  Berlioz.  His  eyes,  she  re- 
membered, were  arresting,  as  if  he  could  pierce  through  matter 
and  beyond,  especially  when  he  sat  motionless  and  absorbed 
while  music  was  going  on.  Scarcely  had  she  finished  when  he 
surprised  her  by  asking  that  inevitable,  stupid  question:  "My 
child,  do  you  never  feel  nervous  when  you  play?"  Teresita  re- 
plied simply:  "Non,  monsieur."  But  the  father  broke  in  quickly, 
perhaps  more  abruptly  than  the  Urbanidad  would  have  con- 
doned: "My  daughter  is  never  nervous.  She  is  too  healthy  to 
have  nerves." 

The  most  important  of  her  new  acquaintances  proved  to  be 
M.  Heugel,  the  music  publisher  and  owner  of  he  Menestrel.  He 
gave  Teresita  a  great  forward  thrust  by  finding  her  composi- 
tions worthy  of  publication  just  when  she  most  needed  fresh 
encouragement.  It  almost  seemed  for  a  time  as  if  the  creative 
urge  might  prove  stronger  than  her  desire  to  play  in  public. 
Up  to  this  time  her  only  printed  composition  in  America  had 
been  the  "Gottschalk  Waltz."  Although  to  her  disappointment 
this  was  never  performed  by  him,  she  now  had  the  compensa- 
tion of  being  able  to  advertise  on  the  covers  of  her  opus  2,  the 
"Caprice-Polka,"  bristling  with  cadenzas,  trills,  and  operatic 
difficulties,  as  well  as  on  her  waltz  opus  9,  "Corbeille  de  Fleurs," 
that  these  pieces  had  been  publicly  played  by  Gottschalk.  Tere- 
sita's  early  compositions  delighted  in  every  conceivable  intri- 
cacy. When  she  was  interested  in  perfecting  double-note  pas- 
sages, octave  runs,  dangerous  jumps,  and — always  her  favorite 
— the  trill,  her  compositions  reflected  this  preoccupation.  Very 


TERESA  CARRENO  81 

naturally  they  also  had  flavor  reminiscent  of  the  works  she 
happened  to  be  studying,  of  the  composer  of  the  hour,  be  it 
Gounod,  Chopin,  or  Liszt.  "Le  Ruisseau"  bears  a  remarkable 
family  resemblance  to  Henselt's  "If  I  were  a  bird,"  and  a 
Chopin  "Scherzo"  stood  godfather  beyond  a  doubt  to  the 
"Scherzo-Caprice"  that  Gounod  so  generously  appreciated  be- 
yond its  merits.  Her  "Reminiscences  of  Norma"  were  dedicated 
to  the  memory  of  her  mother,  and  the  "Ballade,"  a  work  of 
real  merit,  also  a  la  Chopin,  is  full  of  the  exuberance  that  often 
makes  the  works  of  youthful  composers  so  refreshing. 

More  mature  and  more  affecting  are  those  of  her  composi- 
tions that  grew  out  of  her  first  contact  with  death.  One,  a 
prayer  improvised  during  the  last  moments  of  a  family  friend, 
was  never  to  be  published.  A  "Marche  Funebre,"  true  to  the 
plan  of  its  more  famous  pendant  by  Chopin,  probably  owed 
its  origin  to  the  death  of  this  same  person.  There  follow  a  num- 
ber of  "filegies"  and  "Plaintes"  touching  in  their  simplicity.  On 
the  covers  Teresita  is  unflatteringly  portrayed,  in  a  black  dress 
of  stiffly  draped  taffeta,  holding  a  prayerbook.  The  tight  bodice 
trimmed  with  black  lace  and  beads  has  long  and  clumsy 
sleeves.  A  black  velvet  ribbon  ties  back  curls  grown  longer. 

Very  soon  she  turned  to  a  more  familiar  field,  the  morceau 
de  salon  and  the  opera  transcription.  Her  dedications  were 
chosen  from  among  the  names  on  her  visiting  list,  Matthias, 
Marmontel,  Mme.  Ollivier,  Sir  Julius  Benedict,  and  Mr.  L.  H. 
Beddington.  "Un  Reve  en  Mer,"  "Le  Printemps,"  and  "Une 
Revue  a  Prague"  made  a  brilliant  trilogy.  Whenever  she  be- 
came geographic,  whether  in  her  "Italian  Sketches"  or  in 
"Highland,  Souvenir  d'ficosse,"  it  is  amusing  to  note  a  very 
winning,  if  unmotivated,  harking  back  to  the  land  of  her  origin, 
to  the  lilt  of  the  Spanish  serenade  with  its  guitar  accompani- 
ment, and  to  the  habanera.  Of  the  somewhat  later  compositions 
she  dedicated  a  "Berceuse,"  most  beautiful  of  all,  to  her  father. 
It  has  a  delicacy  worthy  of  comparison  with  Schumann's  "Al- 
bum for  the  Young"  or  with  the  "Songs  without  Words"  of 
Mendelssohn.  The  last  of  her  compositions  to  be  bound  to- 


82  TERESA  CARRENO 

gether  by  her  father  in  a  book  with  gilt  edges  and  an  elaborate 
green  cover  was  an  etude  called  "La  Fausse  Note,"  a  reminder  of 
a  composition  of  that  name  by  Rubinstein. 

At  the  home  of  the  Heugels  Teresita  met  the  composer  of 
"Mignon,"  Ambroise  Thomas,  a  tall,  gray-bearded  man,  as 
silent  as  Gounod  was  expansive.  To  him  as  to  many  of  her 
special  friends  her  only  name  was  Bebe.  However,  by  virtue 
of  catastrophe  rather  than  of  years  a  bebe  she  no  longer  was. 

Of  all  the  people  in  Teresita's  circle,  the  one  she  admired 
most  was  Adelina  Patti.  A  first  meeting  at  one  of  Rossini's 
soirees  ripened  into  sisterly,  if  proverbially  undemonstrative  af- 
fection on  the  part  of  the  prima  donna,  and  into  undisguised 
worship  on  the  part  of  Teresita.  There  could  be  no  greater  joy 
than  to  accompany  her  idol's  singing,  no  more  precious  secret 
than  that  there  was  a  photograph  of  Patti  behind  that  of  her 
mother  in  the  locket  she  wore.  "If  only  I  too  could  sing," 
thought  Teresita.  And  very  soon  Rossini,  always  on  the  lookout 
to  find  potential  interpreters  for  his  operas,  discovered  that  she 
had  a  pleasing  voice  of  mezzo  quality.  The  beginning  of  her 
training  in  this  branch  of  art  was  under  his  instruction.  He 
even  encouraged  her  to  think  seriously  of  a  career  as  a  singer, 
seconded  by  the  energetic  prodding  of  Patti.  There  germinated 
a  longing  which  accompanied  her  for  many  years,  cropping 
out  at  odd  intervals,  filling  more  than  a  passing  need. 

Inwardly  Teresita  was  restless.  She  wanted  something  as 
different  as  possible  from  daily  routine.  It  lay  near  at  hand 
that  she  might  become  an  actress.  The  necessary  qualifications, 
beauty,  clear  enunciation,  vivacity,  imagination,  and  a  decided 
gift  of  mimicry  were  hers.  Did  she  not  use  them  daily  for 
the  delectation  of  one  friend  at  the  expense  of  another,  yet 
always  in  wholesome  good  spirits  for  the  fun  of  the  thing  ?  But 
woe  to  the  one  who  tried  to  turn  the  tables  by  ridiculing  her! 
During  one  of  the  soirees  of  Princess  Mathilde  a  gentleman 
approached  Teresita,  in  his  hand  a  caricature  which  he  had 
made  off-hand  as  she  played.  It  was  unmistakably  she,  though 


TERESA  CARRENO  83 

by  no  means  flattering.  He  had  drawn  her  face  framed  in  a 
towsled  mop  of  curls  and  had  given  her  a  very  beak  of  a  nose. 
In  high  indignation  she  tore  up  the  drawing,  not  caring  that 
it  was  Gustave  Dore  who  had  perpetrated  the  insult,  that  she 
had  impulsively  destroyed  a  valuable  work  of  art.  Soon  from 
the  pen  of  Dwight  of  Boston  the  news  spreads  that  "Teresita 
Carrerio  is  studying  singing  and  dramatic  art  with  Delle  Sedie 
of  Les  Italiens.  .  .  .  and  with  her  face  and  figure  we  may  ex- 
pect a  prima  donna  who  will  be  a  credit  to  art,"  he  prophesies. 
(The  piano  had  found  a  rival  if  not  a  substitute.)  Teresita  con- 
tinued to  give  concerts,  the  more  frequently  because  of  the 
famous  Exposition  Universelle  in  Paris.  The  concert  given  in 
the  Salle  firard  on  May  7,  1867,  is  reviewed  by  Le  Constitu- 
tionnel,  which  says: 

Large  and  maturely  developed  like  the  rapidly  blooming  flowers  of 
her  country,  Teresa  Carrerio  makes  one  think  of  the  beautiful 
American  virgins  who  came  before  Christopher  Columbus,  black 
eyes  holding  all  the  fire  of  the  sun,  their  father  and  their  god — 
Enthusiasm  became  charged  with  frenzy  after  the  playing  of  a 
Ballade  of  her  composition  and  a  Fantaisie  of  extra  difficulty  com- 
posed by  Liszt  for  the  despair  of  his  colleagues. — To  appreciate 
her  completely  one  must  hear  her  intimately,  be  it  in  a  Beethoven 
Concerto  or  in  a  delicious  Waltz  of  Chopin — or  in  a  Lament  com- 
posed by  her  after  a  terrible  family  calamity,  the  mournful  expres- 
sion of  which  brings  tears  to  all  eyes. 

And  so  life  continued  very  lean  and  plain  and  workful  in 
the  little  apartment,  2  avenue  Friedland.  Teresita  remembered 
always  her  fifteenth  birthday  as  one  of  the  happiest,  because  in 
celebration  she  had  butter  on  her  bread  for  breakfast.  Particu- 
larly to  the  liking  of  Teresita  were  the  long  excursions  into  the 
Bois  de  Boulogne,  lively  parties  lasting  from  morning  until 
night,  which  never  lacked  for  variety  of  entertainment.  Fre- 
quently they  called  for  the  inventiveness  of  the  participants.  On 
one  such  jaunt  everyone  was  expected  to  improvise  something. 


84  TERESA  CARRENO 

In  a  melodramatic  mood  Teresita  turned  to  poetry.  Mounting 
a  rock  with  exaggeration  of  the  grand  manner  of  the  Theatre 
Francois,  she  chanted  in  measured  imitation  of  French  declama- 
tory tradition : 

En  jranchissant  les  obstacles 
Que  nous  presente  Vadversite 
Nous  renversons  les  murailles 
Qui  nous  separent  de  la  Divinite. 

She  was  to  have  ample  chance  to  prove  this  true. 


Early  in  May,  1868,  on  the  day  following  her  last  Paris  ap- 
pearance of  the  season,  Teresita  and  her  father  again  crossed 
the  Channel.  There  were  promising  signs  that  the  protective 
ice  of  musical  London  was  cracking  under  the  heat  of  Vene- 
zuelan temperament.  Paris  was  more  unaccountable.  It  ac- 
cepted each  new  artist  with  easy  effusiveness,  according  to  his 
entertainment  value,  and  more  or  less  soon  replaced  him  as  a 
later  sensation  presented  itself.  Coming  late  to  concerts  and 
then  using  the  music  as  a  soothing  obbligato  for  choice  bits  of 
gossip  was  the  accepted  thing,  and  there  was  cause  for  public 
comment  when  the  size  of  an  audience  did  not  dwindle  to- 
ward the  end  of  the  evening.  London's  musical  manners  were 
far  more  courteous.  Titled  ladies  lent  their  printed  names  as 
sponsors  to  Teresita's  programs,  and  as  she  was  able  to  draw 
upon  more  and  more  popular  artists  to  assist  her,  these  im- 
portant beings  began  to  appear  at  her  concerts  in  person. 
Among  her  colleagues  Teresita's  friendliness  and  high  spirits 
won  quick  understanding.  It  was  one  of  them,  the  famous 
pianist  Charles  Halle,  who  took  occasion  to  present  her  him- 
self to  none  other  than  the  Princess  of  Wales. 

This  was  an  honor  so  exciting  that  it  warranted  a  new  dress, 
a  dress  with  a  train.  Teresita's  Irving  Hall  debut  had  not  been 
more  thrilling  than  this,  her  official  coming  of  age  as  a  young 
lady  appearing  before  royalty.  It  was  not  the  music  she  was 
to  play  that  concerned  her.  Far  more  necessary  to  practice  an 
effective  entrance,  a  deep  curtsy  before  the  long  mirror  in  full, 
delicious  consciousness  of  the  swishing  silk  behind  her.  The 
evening  arrived.  Teresita  managed  very  well  during  the  intro- 
duction. But  in  spite  of  the  quite  obvious  exaggeration  of  her 
motions,  the  Princess  refused  to  pay  proper  attention  to  the 
train.  This  was  annoying.  The  moment  came  to  cross  the  pol- 
ished parquetry  floor  that  led  to  the  piano,  a  final  chance  to 
make  an  impression.  She  meant  to  make  the  most  of  it.  Throw- 
ing back  her  head,  she  chose  a  winding  way  to  reach  her 
destination,  twisting  and  turning  to  make  her  train  curve  in 


86  TERESA  CARRENO 

and  out  like  the  tail  of  a  salamander.  One  last  completing  fling! 
(Teresita  failed  to  notice  that  it  had  displaced  the  light  gilt 
chair  intended  for  her)  and  she  found  herself  seated  with  theat- 
rical elegance — upon  the  floor!  Not  in  her  lifetime  would  she 
forget  the  mortification  of  that  moment. 

Early  in  July,  1868,  Teresita  gave  a  matinee  of  her  own  in  the 
Hanover  Square  rooms.  It  stood  out  from  the  others  not  only 
because  it  was  sponsored  by  the  Duchess  of  Cleveland,  Lady 
Duff  Gordon,  and  others,  not  only  because  she  was  ably  sec- 
onded by  fine  artists,  not  only  because  the  concert  was  at- 
tended by  all  that  was  fashionable  in  London  circles,  but  be- 
cause one  person,  led  by  casual  curiosity,  happened  to  buy  his 
ticket  like  any  other  mortal.  Anton  Rubinstein  was  in  the  audi- 
ence. This  marked  the  beginning  of  a  friendship  between  two 
kindred  spirits.  On  this  afternoon  Teresita  was  more  than  us- 
ually dazzling.  Beauty,  talent,  temperament,  all  scintillated  to 
their  fullest.  One  of  her  own  compositions  headed  the  program. 
She  took  part  in  the  Schumann  "Quintette,"  and  continued  in 
classical  vein  with  the  C  sharp  minor  "Sonate"  of  Beethoven, 
the  Chopin  "Polonaise"  in  the  same  key,  and  Mendelssohn's 
"Rondo  Capriccioso."  During  the  intermission  Rubinstein  made 
his  way  from  his  favorite  seat  at  the  rear  of  the  left  side  to  the 
artists'  room.  He  shook  Manuel  Antonio's  hand  until  it  hurt, 
thanking  him  for  the  new  genius  he  had  brought  to  London. 
When  he  congratulated  Teresita  upon  some  of  the  best  piano 
playing  he  had  ever  heard,  he  noticed  even  more  than  during 
the  performance  how  similar  in  shape  her  hands  were  to  his 
own.  From  this  day  on  he  became  her  mentor,  the  outstanding 
influence  of  her  girlhood.  That  which  Gottschalk  had  been  for 
the  prodigy,  Rubinstein  became  for  the  unfolding  artist.  These 
two,  so  different  in  age  and  outlook,  were  irresistibly  drawn  to 
each  other  by  a  likeness  in  temperament  as  well  as  in  the  hands. 
To  Teresita,  though  Rubinstein  was  not  officially  giving  lessons 
and  taught  her  only  spasmodically  when  they  happened  to  be 


Cast  of  Rubinstein  s  Hand 


Hand  of  Carreno 


TERESA  CARRENO  87 

in  the  same  city,  he  was  the  greatest  of  all  masters.  She  learned 
from  him  more  than  he  was  conscious  of  teaching  her. 

Rubinstein  was  anything  but  methodical.  Running  up  and 
down  as  she  played,  fortified  by  a  cigar  that  kept  going  out  in 
his  absorption,  he  did  not  hesitate  to  interrupt  her  abruptly  in 
order  to  take  her  place  at  the  piano.  Teresita  was  used  to 
Manuel  Antonio's  more  tactful  ways.  There  were  stormy  mo- 
ments. She  was  no  longer  the  child  ready  to  accept  the  dictates 
even  of  an  artist  whom  she  adored.  At  one  of  these  lessons 
Rubinstein,  a  musical  autocrat  if  ever  there  was  one,  was  lay- 
ing down  the  law  according  to  Rubinstein.  Teresita  presumed 
to  question  his  reading  of  a  certain  passage,  about  which  she 
too  had  conviction.  "You  must  play  this  as  I  do,"  commanded 
the  master.  "Why  must  I?"  countered  Teresita.  Rubinstein 
bristled.  The  moment  had  come  to  put  her  in  her  place.  Angrily 
he  drew  himself  up  to  his  full  height,  made  a  widely  curving 
gesture  which  ended  by  pointing  at  himself,  and  shouted  in 
what  was  intended  to  be  an  annihilating  tone:  "I  am  Rubin- 
stein." 

Teresita  was  not  cowed.  She  jumped  from  the  piano  stool, 
repeated  the  gesture  in  perfect  caricature  to  the  last  detail,  in 
which  only  the  fury  was  her  own,  and  mimicking  Rubinstein's 
tone  of  voice  to  the  life,  she  retorted,  "And  I  am  Carreno."  For 
an  instant  two  forces  confronted  each  other  in  silent  indigna- 
tion, then  exploded  in  a  burst  of  merriment  born  of  inner 
understanding.  From  now  on  Rubinstein  might  call  her  his 
adopted  daughter,  his  sunshine,  or  even  bebe.  As  an  artist  he 
must  henceforth  learn  to  regard  her  as  an  equal,  concede  to 
her  the  right  of  self-expression.  The  enfant  prodige,  as  La 
France  had  so  recently  called  her,  was  of  the  past. 


Es  bildet  ein  Talent  sich  in  der  Stille, 
Sich  ein  Character  in  dent  Strom  der  Welt, 

Goethe 


PART  II 
TRIAL  AND  ERROR 


1AM  Carrefio!"  With  this  pronouncement  she  declared  her- 
self musically  responsible.  Conscious  of  unlimited  power 
within,  she  had  the  drive,  the  will  to  draw  into  her  own 
living  only  that  which  was  acceptable  to  her  as  an  individual, 
to  discard  that  which  she  no  longer  truly  was.  Would  she  be 
able  to  manage  her  life  as  rightly  as  she  did  her  keyboard  ?  Or 
would  she  be  satisfied  with  the  triumphs  already  so  generously 
hers  by  right  of  youth,  beauty,  and  genius  ? 

Genius  is  timeless.  It  exists  ready-made,  sound,  and  whole. 
It  may  reach  out  in  one  direction  or  another,  momentarily 
changing  its  outline,  yet  keeping  the  weight  of  content  intact, 
the  periphery  unbroken.  The  energy  of  genius,  no  matter  how 
lavishly  expended,  how  variously  directed  or  misdirected,  exists 
once  and  for  all.  The  pattern  changes,  the  balance  shifts  with 
the  enrichment  or  erosion  of  time.  Genius  remains  potentially 
the  same,  the  inexhaustible  spring  of  intuitive  vision.  It  is 
taught  only  to  find  that  it  knows.  It  must  because  it  can.  Its 
essence  is  a  quite  unmoral  passion  for  perfection,  making  a 
direct  path  from  soul  to  soul,  striking  a  spark  instantaneous  in 
its  contact.  It  exists  in  fullness  while  demanding  fulfillment. 
Events  may  encroach  upon  it,  shape  it,  mold  it  into  beauty  or 
its  opposite.  Genius,  uninhibited,  remains  elastic  in  expression, 
lightning-sure  in  its  reactions.  The  faults  of  genius  are  never 
small,  never  mean;  the  fatality  of  genius  is  to  be  painted  with 
an  ample  brush.  Interference  with  its  all-comprehensive  stroke, 
even  by  intellect,  the  all-comprehending,  is  criminal  subversion. 
The  London  Athenaeum  faced  Teresita's  problem  simply: 
"Mademoiselle  Carreno  may  have  a  brilliant  future  if  she  be  not 
spoilt  at  the  beginning  of  her  career."  It  disregarded  a  signifi- 
cant fact.  The  threshold  of  one  career  already  marked  the  close 
of  another.  To  one  completed  chapter  life  had  set  its  seal.  From 
every  angle  it  stood  approved.  When  little  Teresita  promised 
herself:  "I  shall  be  an  artist  all  my  life,"  she  instinctively  knew 
that  the  reward  she  wished  for  lay  within  the  art  she  tended. 
Adulation,  flowers,  riches,  delightful  as  they  might  be,  were  in 


92  TERESA  CARRENO 

themselves  unessential.  Creating  a  thrilling  world  of  imagina- 
tion and  revelation  where  others  might  not  enter,  yet  which 
she  knew  how  to  share  with  all  who  would  listen,  that  was 
what  really  mattered.  Hers  was  a  precious  secret.  All  of  it 
would  never  be  revealed  even  to  herself.  She  might  give  of  it  as 
lavishly  as  from  the  fullness  of  her  affectionate  nature  she  loved 
to  give  everything  else  she  owned.  The  secret  was  hers  alone,  hers 
its  lonely  eminence,  hers  that  inexhaustible  spring  from  which 
she  had  the  gift  to  draw  at  will  that  she  might  as  freely  give  to 
others,  according  to  their  sensitivity,  the  hint  of  an  existence 
where  lesser  things  fall  into  just  proportion.  That  was  what 
Liszt  meant  when  he  charged  her  to  be  true  to  herself. 

Teresa — with  her  musical  coming  of  age  she  dropped  the 
affectionate  diminutive — did  not  always  see  the  way  so  clearly 
before  her.  Daily  living  is  full  of  clutter,  disillusioning,  sordid 
beneath  the  surface,  and  dull.  Outwardly  Teresa  was  the  envied 
darling  of  Paris  and  London.  Within  the  protection  of  safely 
grounded  homes  young  girls  would  gladly  have  given  all  they 
cherished  most  to  change  places  with  her  for  a  day,  to  bow  so 
regally  in  rustling  gowns  of  bright  silk,  to  acknowledge  ap- 
plause with  such  proud  courtesy.  They  guessed  nothing  of  the 
careful  planning  on  the  part  of  both  father  and  daughter  to 
keep  heads  above  water,  to  afford  the  dignity  of  a  Paris  apart- 
ment, to  educate  young  Manuel  fittingly  in  the  hope  that  he 
would  become  a  good  soldier  and  later,  perhaps,  a  good  diplo- 
mat. 

In  time  the  annual  trip  across  the  Channel  for  the  London 
season  became  for  two  people  an  unmanageable  expense.  For- 
tunately there  was  a  Mrs.  Bischoff,  a  friend  with  whom  Teresa 
could  safely  live  in  London,  while  Manuel  Antonio  continued 
his  teaching  in  Paris.  He  accepted  this  enforced  separation  with 
reluctance,  foreseeing  the  change  that  it  inevitably  would  mean 
in  their  relation  to  each  other,  the  loosening  of  discipline  and 
close  companionship.  Very  naturally  he  mistrusted  the  influ- 
ence of  a  franker,  freer,  Protestant  England  upon  his  daughter. 
Tt  distressed  him  that  she  actually  seemed  to  revel  in  the  society 


TERESA  CARRENO  93 

of  the  would-be  opera  singers  in  the  class  of  Delle  Sedie,  her 
singing  teacher.  To  his  thinking  her  manners  had  already  suf- 
fered. He  deplored  the  increasing  loudness  of  her  voice,  her 
boisterous  laughter  at  jokes  that  bordered  on  the  indelicate.  He 
would  have  wished  her  more  discriminating  in  every  way. 
Without  deliberately  going  counter  to  his  strict  and  static  rules 
of  conduct,  Teresa  no  longer  accepted  his  criticisms  as  final. 
She  could  not  help  observing  how  out  of  tune  they  were  with 
life  as  it  was  lived  in  London  and  in  Paris  of  the  late  Sixties. 
Her  own  spirit  craved  freedom.  She  felt  more  religious  in  fra- 
grant forests  than  in  churches,  although  in  Paris  she  had  ob- 
served the  prescribed  ecclesiastical  routine  meticulously.  Stimu- 
lating though  they  were  in  many  ways,  she  also  began  to  resent 
the  artificial  atmosphere  of  the  Paris  salons.  What  labyrinths  of 
convoluted  being!  Emerging  from  such  a  gathering,  she  felt 
like  throwing  her  arms  out  wide  and  shouting  aloud  into  the 
fresh,  uncomplicated  air.  In  England  people  were  more  them- 
selves, more  forthright.  The  Germans  in  London  were  par- 
ticularly to  her  liking.  Only  few  foreign  virtuosos  chose  to  set- 
tle in  Paris,  for  then  as  now  Paris  preferred  those  of  its  own 
race  and  language.  Teresa  dreamed  that  some  day  she  would 
go  to  Germany,  learn  its  language,  sing  its  songs,  and  as  so 
often,  she  dreamed  true. 

Teresa  Carreno  was  fifteen  years  old.  he  Menestrel  had  hinted 
in  its  columns  that  she  would  soon  enter  the  teaching  profes- 
sion, predicting  a  large  class  of  pupils.  However,  to  entice  them 
in  sufficient  number,  it  took  a  formal  advertisment,  which  read : 

Enseignement  elementaire  et  superieur 

Cours  et  lecons  de  piano 

par 

M.  Manuel  Carreno  et  Mile.  Teresa  Carreno 

Les  mardis,  jeudis,  et  samedis 

Lecons  speciales  en  anglais  et  en  espagnol 

S'adresser  chez  M.  et  Mile.  Carreno,  Ave.  Friedland,  2. 

Manuel  Antonio  was  undoubtedly  the  more  dependable 
member  of  this  pedagogic  ensemble.  It  is  unthinkable  that  a 


94  TERESA  CARRENO 

young  girl  of  fifteen,  busy  with  household  and  music,  in  which 
her  enthusiasm  for  the  operatic  stage  was  for  the  time  para- 
mount, would  regard  teaching  as  anything  but  a  chore.  Ma- 
dame Ollivier  was  the  outstanding  exception.  Teresa's  formal 
education  had  been  short-lived  and  sketchy.  Hers  was  the  not 
unliberal  education  of  travel  and  trouble.  She,  to  whom  the 
gift  of  knowing  without  being  taught  had  been  given,  could  not 
be  expected  to  show  tact  and  patience  with  those  who  were 
slow  and  clumsy.  So  the  brunt  of  this  cooperative  undertaking 
fell  upon  the  shoulders  of  Manuel  Antonio,  who,  moreover, 
was  planning  to  publish  a  treatise  on  the  "Theory  and  Prac- 
tice of  Piano  Technique."  Using  new  and  ingenious  formulae 
based  on  strictly  mathematical  combinations,  he  had  found  the 
way  of  solving  in  principle  the  most  arduous  difficulties  of 
rhythm  and  mechanics.  This  project  was  not  to  be  realized, 
probably  because  Marmontel,  who  had  been  asked  for  his  opin- 
ion, considered  this  work,  carefully  and  cleverly  conceived 
though  he  admitted  it  to  be,  merely  another  addition  to  the 
already  overprolific  literature  on  the  subject.  Or  it  may  have 
been  the  Franco-Prussian  War  that  entered  an  interfering 
wedge.  To  Manuel  Antonio  this  must  have  been  a  major  dis- 
appointment. He  had  counted  upon  this  publication  to  give 
him  distinction  in  his  own  right.  Failing  in  this,  his  part  in  a 
world  to  whose  outlook  and  standards  he  could  no  longer  bend 
was  played. 

Teresa  continued  to  appear  successfully  and  unremunera- 
tively  in  the  most  important  and  influential  salons  of  Paris, 
those  of  Pierre  Veron,  the  journalist,  M.  et  Mme.  Diemer,  M. 
et  Mme.  Koechlin  among  them.  The  listeners  were  often  as 
celebrated — sometimes  as  audible — as  the  performing  artists. 
Her  own  concerts  were  still  popular  events.  In  the  audience  one 
might  see  "a  quantity  of  superb  toilettes  generally  not  evident 
in  concerts."  Fashion  attended  and,  wonder  of  wonders,  stayed 
to  the  end.  Coquelin  himself,  Sarasate,  and  Delle  Sedie  assisted 
at  these  functions.  Blond,  Nordic  Christine  Nilsson  and  dark, 
tropical  Teresa  Carreno  offset  each  other  effectively  on  more 


TERESA  CARRENO  95 

than  one  occasion.  Decidedly  Teresa  had  "arrived"  in  Paris.  In 
that  city  there  were  no  higher  pinnacles  for  her  scaling.  She 
was  no  longer  shy  of  putting  her  own  compositions  next  to 
those  of  Gottschalk  and  Chopin  on  her  programs,  among  them 
"Venice,"  dedicated  to  Mme.  Ollivier,  and  "Le  Ruisseau."  But 
the  accepted  favorite  was  always  the  "Revue  a  Prague." 

From  the  time  that  she  was  allowed  to  travel  alone  Teresa 
was  more  and  more  in  demand  as  a  member  of  concert  groups 
on  tour.  Under  the  management  of  the  famous  impresario, 
Maurice  Strakosch,  she  left  home  for  weeks  at  a  time,  once  to 
play  in  the  cities  of  Holland  assisting  Minnie  Hauck,  the  so- 
prano. On  another  occasion,  one  of  the  pianists  of  a  company 
formed  to  present  the  Mass  of  Rossini  shortly  after  his  death 
in  November,  1868,  Teresa  visited  the  French  provinces  and 
later  Belgium.  A  trip  with  the  same  artists  in  Germany  was 
abandoned  through  fear  of  war,  one  through  Switzerland  being 
hastily  substituted.  For  the  time  being  Teresa  was  best  known 
as  the  pianist  of  the  Strakosch  company. 

Close  upon  her  return  she  was  again  on  her  way  to  London. 
The  Princess  of  Wales  had  not  forgotten  the  little  artist  with 
the  long,  wayward  train.  Upon  her  own  initiative  she  took 
Teresa's  concert  on  June  21,  1869,  under  her  particular  patron- 
age, an  honor  accorded  only  to  two  or  three  artists  before  her. 
But  Teresa  considered  it  a  far  greater  one  when  she  was  asked 
to  appear  as  piano  soloist  in  one  of  Adelina  Patti's  "Grand  Con- 
certs." She  was  heard  as  well  on  the  always  select,  always  in- 
terminable programs  that  the  popular  conductor,  Julius  Bene- 
dict, had  the  custom  of  staging  annually  for  his  own  benefit. 
On  one  of  these  occasions  Sir  Julius  publicly  advertised  that 
he  had  restricted  the  duration  of  the  concert  to  four  hours  only. 
"We  wonder  who  had  physical  strength  to  test  the  accuracy  of 
this  promise,"  asks  the  Athenaeum. 

Declaration  of  the  Franco-Prussian  War  on  July  19,  1870, 
found  father  and  daughter  on  opposite  sides  of  the  Channel. 
Teresa  remembered  how  thrilling  it  was  to  undo  the  notes 


96  TERESA  CARRENO 

brought  to  her  by  carrier-pigeon  post,  messages  written  on  the 
thinnest  of  paper  in  her  father's  finely  pointed  handwriting 
and  creased  into  accordionlike  folds.  Much  as  he  disapproved 
of  his  daughter's  prolonged  stay  in  London,  he  was  relieved  to 
know  her  free  from  the  deprivations  he  himself  had  to  endure 
during  the  long  siege  of  Paris.  Lessons,  salons,  concerts  dwin- 
dled, then  stopped  completely.  One  mouth  less  to  feed  in  Paris! 
That  was  important,  and  Teresa  by  good  fortune  was  able  even 
from  a  distance  to  play  the  part  most  natural  to  her  since  the 
age  of  eight,  that  of  breadwinner  to  her  family.  She  rose  to  the 
occasion  manfully.  By  force  of  pluck,  perseverance,  and  per- 
sonality, her  reputation  widened  and  heightened  until  she 
achieved  a  coveted  engagement  and  financial  security  on  a 
modest  scale  as  one  of  the  regular  artists  of  M.  Riviere's  Prom- 
enade Concerts. 

M.  Riviere  had  for  a  time  been  known  as  conductor  of  the 
notorious  Alhambra.  When  the  license  of  this  music  hall  was 
revoked,  because  Mile.  Finette,  the  cancan  dancer,  shocked  and 
tickled  the  sensibilities  of  London,  M.  Riviere  changed  his 
tactics.  He  established  the  Promenade  Concerts  with  a  stand- 
ing orchestra  of  one  hundred  pieces,  supplemented  by  a  large 
chorus,  and  on  August  19,  1871,  gave  them  the  superb  setting 
of  Covent  Garden  Theater.  In  place  of  the  white  calico  hang- 
ings relieved  by  red  rosettes  that  his  predecessors  had  thought 
suitable,  he  had  devised  ultramagnihxent  stage  decorations. 
Ornamental  framework  gave  the  effect  of  a  mammoth  con- 
servatory of  flowers.  What  it  lacked  in  restraint  it  achieved  in 
brilliance.  Against  this  setting  a  mixture  of  popular,  semi- 
popular,  and  classical  music — each  carefully  sorted  and  con- 
signed to  its  special  evening — became  so  successful  that  an  extra 
two  weeks  had  to  be  added  to  the  scheduled  concerts  of  the 
first  season.  The  purely  classical  ones  took  place  on  Wednes- 
days and  were  conducted  by  Arthur  Sullivan.  It  was  for  these 
that  Teresa  was  primarily  engaged,  although  she  did  not  con- 
sider it  belittling  to  appear  on  those  of  lighter  character,  con- 
ducted by  M.  Riviere.  For  experience  the  training  was  excellent. 


TERESA  CARRENO  97 

It  meant  not  only  a  regular  income,  it  also  obliged  her  to  add  to 
her  repertoire.  In  a  Liverpool  Philharmonic  Concert  under  the 
direction  of  Sir  Julius  Benedict  Teresa  played  the  "G  minor 
Concerto"  of  Mendelssohn  for  the  first  time.  The  Athenaeum 
takes  notice  that  "the  playing  of  this  lady  at  the  Covent  Garden 
Concerts  has  been  of  a  nature  to  attract  more  than  ordinary 
attention." 

Once  having  held  her  own  in  the  tours  of  Maurice  Strakosch, 
Teresa  was  booked  far  ahead  for  the  spring  of  1872  by  his  great 
rival,  Colonel  Mapleson,  as  a  member  of  an  operatic  concert 
group  traveling  through  the  provinces  of  Great  Britain.  Colonel 
Mapleson  was  accustomed  to  do  things  on  a  grand  scale.  His 
own  annual  benefit  concert  in  London  was  usually  an  all-day 
affair.  It  began  with  a  matinee  concert,  to  which  celebrities 
contributed  their  talents  gratis.  In  the  evening  there  was  an 
opera,  followed  by  a  ballet,  and  complemented  by  the  playing 
of  fountains  and  fireworks.  Through  these  influential  men, 
Teresa  became  professionally  associated  with  the  most  highly 
valued,  and  paid,  artists  of  London.  In  the  exuberance  of  her 
new  freedom,  with  her  overflowing  friendliness,  her  versatile 
genius,  she  made  quick  way  to  the  affections  of  her  colleagues, 
always  ready  to  laugh  at  their  jokes,  to  be  a  leader  in  their 
fun,  to  play  their  accompaniments,  and  to  sympathize  in  their 
troubles,  helping  where  she  could.  But  Adelina  Patti,  coaching 
and  encouraging  her  as  she  was  able,  saw  to  it  that  her  "little 
sister"  did  not  give  up  the  idea  of  becoming  a  singer. 

he  Menestrel  begins  to  complain  that  Teresa  is  making  such 
a  sensation  in  London  that  this  city  seems  unwilling  to  return 
her  to  Paris — and  Manuel  Antonio,  alone  except  for  the  visits 
of  young  Manuel  on  leave  from  military  school,  resigned  him- 
self in  absentia  to  proud  partnership  in  the  triumphs  of  his 
daughter,  and  to  the  most  mournful  of  all  diminuendos,  that  of 
old  age. 

Tuesdays  the  Promenade  Concerts  were  devoted  to  opera. 
In  these  Teresa  was  in  her  element,  now  playing  the  "Waltz" 
from  Faust  or  another  of  her  limitless  fund  of  transcriptions, 


98  TERESA  CARRENO 

now  taking  part  with  a  violinist  in  the  duet  on  airs  from  Wil- 
liam Tell.  On  one  classical  Wednesday  she  played  the  "Capric- 
cio  Brillante"  in  the  concert  devoted  to  Mendelssohn.  When  it 
was  the  turn  of  Beethoven,  she  took  her  part  in  the  "Kreutzer 
Sonate." 

Fresh  from  the  Beethoven  centenary  at  Bonn  the  critic  of  the 
Athenaeum  writes:  "If  Mile.  Carrerio  had  executed  the  An- 
dante and  Variations  from  the  "Kreutzer  Sonate"  at  Bonn,  she 
would  have  elicited  from  the  Teutonic  amateurs  greater  en- 
thusiasm than  even  she  provoked  at  Covent  Garden ;  her  touch 
is  indescribably  charming,  and  her  execution  neat  and  fin- 
ished." 

At  this  time  she  was  also  heard  for  the  first  time  in  the  great 
"E  flat  Concerto"  by  Beethoven  which  was  later  to  become  a 
highlight  of  her  repertoire.  According  to  the  Musical  World 
"the  young  lady's  performance  was  heard  with  the  greatest  at- 
tention, and  it  is  no  small  proof  of  her  ability  that,  after  being 
applauded  at  the  close  of  each  movement,  she  was  finally  re- 
called amid  unanimous  and  hearty  tokens  of  gratification."  In 
this  concert  Mme.  Rudersdorff,  the  singer  who  became  even 
more  famous  as  the  mother  of  Richard  Mansfield,  also  partici- 
pated. This  marked  the  beginning  of  a  friendship  that  ripened 
significantly  for  Teresa  in  another  land. 

The  Promenade  Concerts  proved  to  be  a  stepping  stone  to 
the  really  choice  Monday  Popular  Concerts  of  Mr.  Arthur 
Chappel.  Playing  on  these  programs  meant  association  with 
artists  such  as  Charles  Halle,  Joseph  Joachim,  and  Clara  Schu- 
mann. In  such  company  it  was  necessary  to  measure  up  to  the 
highest  standards.  For  her  first  appearance  she  chose  Beetho- 
ven's "Sonate"  in  E  flat,  op.  27,  no.  1,  last  given  years  before 
in  these  concerts  by  M.  Halle  and  Mme.  Schumann. 

To  this  appearance  the  Athenaeum  completely  capitulated, 
considering  it  worth  while  to  consign  one  of  its  "original 
papers"  to  a  review  of  the  playing  of  this  "Spanish  American 
pianiste"  on  January  20,  1872. 


TERESA  CARRENO  99 

Conventionalists  and  Puritans  must  have  been  terribly  shocked  at  the 
laissez-aller  style  of  playing  Beethoven  adopted  by  a  young  lady, 
Mile.  Carreno,  at  the  Monday  Popular  Concerts  on  the  15th  inst.! 
Disregarding  all  precedents  and  tradition,  selecting  her  own  tempi, 
and  giving  a  reading  altogether  novel  and  unprecedented  to  the 
Sonate  in  E  flat  Op.  27,  No.  1 — the  newcomer  created  a  sensation  as 
pronounced  as  has  been  excited  by  any  exhibition  of  the  more  experi- 
enced style  of  Madame  Schumann,  and  of  the  more  exact  and  refined 
school  of  Madame  Arabella  Goddard.  It  is  difficult  to  convey  a  notion 
of  the  abandon  and  charm  of  Mile.  C's  execution.  She  has  a  nimble 
finger  and  can  master  all  difficulties,  and  has,  moreover,  prodigious 
power,  considering  that  the  hands  are  feminine  and  almost  juvenile. 
The  effect  upon  the  auditory  was  much  the  same  as  that  produced  on 
the  public  of  the  Princess's  Theatre  when  M.  Fechter  gave  a  version 
of  Hamlet  so  different  from  the  stiff  and  stilted  reading  of  English 
actors  who  have  appeared  as  the  Danish  Prince.  The  severe  judges 
and  critical  connoisseurs  astounded  at  first  by  the  verve  and  vigour 
of  the  Venezuelan  artiste,  were  at  last  carried  away,  and  found  them- 
selves endorsing  the  verdict  of  the  masses  in  St.  James  Hall,  that 
an  original  and  exceptional  artist  had  appeared  who  dared  to  take 
her  own  course  defiant  of  pedantic  ruling.  The  Sonata  itself  seemed 
peculiarly  adapted  to  develop  her  specialties.  It  is  full  of  breaks  and 
surprises;  it  alternates  in  the  expression  of  profound  pathos  and  of 
the  deepest  despair — the  former  exemplified  in  accents  of  affliction 
and  the  latter  evinced  in  paroxysms  of  forcible  passages.  The  themes 
were  well  contrasted  by  Mile.  Carreno  and  it  is  useless  to  challenge 
the  interpretation  because  it  was  not  traditional.  We  must  accept 
artists  with  their  peculiar  idiosyncracies,  and  we  are  too  glad  to  be 
emancipated  from  dryness,  formality,  and  from  the  commonplace, 
to  argue  against  conceptions  which  are  so  impulsive  and  energetic. 
The  Sonata  has  been  rarely  attacked  by  pianists;  it  was  some  twelve 
years  since  it  has  been  heard  at  the  Monday  Popular  Concerts;  and 
a  vote  of  thanks  is  due  Mile.  Carreno  for  her  introduction  of  what 
Beethoven  called  "Sonata  quasi  una  fantasia"  and  for  her  poetic  and 
spirited  playing  of  it. 

By  way  of  warning,  it  may  be  permitted  to  suggest  that  the  vigour 
of  the  left  hand  might  be  forced  down  advantageously.  After  a  rap- 
turous recall  Mile.  C.  gave  Herr  Rubinstein's  picturesque  transcrip- 


ioo  TERESA  CARRENO 

tion  of  Beethoven's  Turkish  March  from  the  "Ruins  of  Athens"  which 
she  executed  with  due  observance  of  the  gradations  of  sound ;  now  the 
march  being  heard  fortissimo  and  then  dying  off  in  the  distance  to 
the  softest  pianissimo.  Mile.  C.  also  took  the  pianoforte  part  in  Mo- 
zart's quartet  in  g-minor  (1785)  having  as  colleagues  Mme.  Norman 
Neruda,  Herr  Straus  and  Signor  Piatti;  but  the  composition,  replete 
with  melody,  requires  no  executive  skill  out  of  the  common  order. 
The  addition  of  Mile.  C.  to  the  classical  chamber  school  of  playing 
must  be  emphatically  welcomed;  her  previous  performances  in  Lon- 
don were  at  miscellaneous  concerts,  at  which  she  indulged  in  the 
Fantasia;  at  the  recent  Covent  Garden  Promenade  Concerts  of 
M.  Riviere,  Mile.  C.  Performed  Concertos;  now  she  has  taken  a 
new  ground,  and  the  Director  of  the  Monday  Popular  Concerts  is 
to  be  congratulated  on  his  valuable  acquisition. 

The  Musical  Times  concedes  that  she  found  great  favor  and 
commends  her  emphatic  style,  her  strongly  marked  accent,  and 
vigorous  expression.  But  it  criticizes  her  adversely  because,  "in- 
stead of  repeating  the  finale  of  the  Sonate,  she  added  as  encore 
Herr  Rubinstein's  transcription  of  Beethoven's  March  from  the 
Ruins  of  Athens!'  This  was  somewhat  out  of  place,  according 
to  the  Times,  "in  a  concert  devoted  to  classical  music,  and 
which  it  is  moreover  hardly  wise  for  any  other  pianist  than 
Herr  Rubinstein  to  attempt  in  public." 

The  Musical  Times  was  not  the  only  voice  ready  to  jack  up 
Teresa  when  her  taste  was  in  danger  of  sagging.  There  was 
always  Rubinstein.  At  one  of  her  concerts  Teresa  had  chosen  to 
play  the  first  movement  only  of  the  Mendelssohn  "Concerto  in 
G  minor."  As  she  left  the  stage  the  master  confronted  her: 
"Teresita,  you  are  now  my  adopted  daughter;  but  if  you  ever 
again  play  a  single  movement  of  a  Concerto  without  the  others 
that  belong  to  it,  I  shall  disown  you,"  he  bellowed  for  all  to 
hear.  Teresa  remembered  and  obeyed. 

While  M.  Heugel  was  publishing  one  of  her  compositions  after 
another,  the  Scotch  "Highland"  with  the  Spanish  twist,  "La 
Fausse  Note"  reminiscent  of  Rubinstein's  etude  of  the  same 
name,  and  the  delicate  "Berceuse,"  the  only  piece  dedicated  to 


TERESA  CARRENO  101 

her  father,  the  early  spring  of  1872  found  Teresa  traveling  as 
piano  soloist  on  the  concert  tour  of  the  provinces  for  which  she 
had  been  obligated  long  before  by  Colonel  Mapleson.  Among 
the  operatic  stars  in  the  company  Therese  Tietjens  was  that  of 
first  magnitude. 

Teresa's  engagement  ended  in  Edinburgh.  Dovetailing  with 
it  Mapleson  had  organized  a  series  of  operatic  performances. 
The  gala  event,  with  Tietjens  taking  the  part  of  Valentine  in 
Les  Huguenots,  a  recent  revival  in  the  repertoire  of  Her  Maj- 
esty's Theatre,  was  scheduled  for  March  12. 

Meanwhile  for  the  moment  Teresa  found  herself  foot-loose. 
Completely  carefree  days  were  rare  dispensations,  and  she 
meant  to  make  the  most  of  them.  What  could  be  more  soul- 
satisfying  than  to  stay  where  she  was  in  the  company  of  light- 
hearted  friends,  to  sit  in  elegant  prominence  in  Colonel  Maple- 
son's  box,  and  to  relive  night  after  night  tales  of  horror  and 
romance,  intensified  by  the  aura  added  by  music.  She  could 
take  full  advantage  of  her  holiday  in  no  better  way  and  pre- 
pared to  relish  every  instant.  So  she  did,  if  not  quite  as  she  had 
intended. 

On  the  morning  after  the  last  concert  Teresa  and  Therese  in 
the  gayest  of  moods  set  out  to  see  the  sights  of  the  city.  In  the 
sunshine  of  the  moment  Teresa  could  afford  to  brush  aside  the 
caustic  comment  of  the  Edinburgh  C  our  ant's  critic  regarding 
her  concerts.  It  had  annoyed  her  slightly  to  read: 

There  was  also  a  lady  pianiste,  Mile.  Carreno,  who  attempted  Chopin's 
Grande  Polonaise  in  A  fiat;  and  though  displaying  a  good  memory, 
and  giving  some  passages  with  the  left  hand  very  cleverly,  the  general 
idea  of  Chopin's  fine  composition  was  lost  entirely  in  a  series  of  wild 
crashes,  indistinct  runs,  and  chords  which  would  have  greatly  sur- 
prised the  nervous  Pole.  In  a  fantasia  on  airs  from  "Trovatore,"  the 
lady  played  occasionally  with  considerable  success,  and  was  applauded 
at  the  close  of  the  piece;  but  her  style  of  touching  the  instrument  is 
contrary  to  that  which  we  are  accustomed  to  in  Edinburgh.  The  lady 
also  appeared  as  vocalist  in  the  closing  quartette,  in  which  the  two 
basses  were  too  powerful  for  the  soprano  and  tenor 


102  TERESA  CARRENO 

The  critic  was  probably  not  far  wrong.  Neither  the  members 
of  the  concert  company  nor  Colonel  Mapleson  himself  took 
these  provincial  concerts  seriously,  the  important  thing  being 
to  have  as  hilarious  a  time  as  possible  en  route.  Sir  Frederic 
Cowen  in  his  reminiscences  recalls  a  typical  incident  of  this 
tour  of  1872.  The  troupe  arrived  in  Newcastle  one  morning  with 
a  free  day  ahead.  Spirits  were  at  high  pitch,  imagination  ready 
to  run  riot  in  almost  any  direction  that  held  promise  of  fun. 
Someone  suggested  a  three-piano  ensemble  as  a  novelty  for 
the  program  of  the  evening.  The  three  pianists  of  the  concert 
company,  Teresa  Carreno,  Tito  Mattei,  and  young  Frederic 
Cowen  put  their  heads  together,  swallowed  their  breakfast 
whole,  and  hurried  to  the  music  store.  Finding  three  instru- 
ments in  tolerable  tune  they  set  to  work.  That  there  was  no 
music  at  hand  for  such  a  combination  lent  zest  to  their  deter- 
mination to  give  their  fellow  artists  the  surprise  of  their  lives. 
Rigoletto  was  chosen  as  their  victim.  Around  the  most  popular 
themes  of  that  much  abused  opera  they  wove  a  fantasia  of  fire 
and  fury  in  a  three-cornered  game  of  musical  tennis,  Teresa 
first  serving  a  melody  which  her  colleagues  returned  with  vari- 
ants and  elaborations  of  their  own.  After  a  few  hours  of  this 
composite  improvising,  their  plan  of  action  was  clearly  defined. 
According  to  Sir  Frederic  the  audience  found  nothing  amiss 
with  the  noisy  medley,  while  backstage  a  delighted  band  of 
colleagues  with  difficulty  were  persuaded  to  wait  until  the  final 
note  before  exploding  in  mirth.  The  performance  served  its 
purpose,  but  it  seems  not  to  have  called  for  repetition. 

As  Teresa  walked  along  on  this  morning  with  Tietjens  by 
her  side  she  hummed  aloud  for  the  joy  of  living.  Turning  a 
corner  they  came  upon  Colonel  Mapleson,  apparently  in  a 
frantic  state.  Without  waiting  for  an  answering  "good  morn- 
ing" to  his  perfunctory  one,  he  stormed: 

What  do  you  think?  That  woman,  that  Colombo,  has  left  me  high 
and  dry.  The  cheek  of  her!  She  says  she  is  ill  and  expects  me  to  find 
someone  to  take  her  place.  Does  she  think  singers  grow  on  trees  like 
apples  for  the  picking?  I  have  tried  everywhere.  There  is  no  one 


TERESA  CARRENO  103 

willing  to  sing  the  Queen  in  Les  Huguenots.  To  blazes  with  these 
ungrateful  creatures.  I  work  myself  sick  to  make  them  famous,  and 
at  the  critical  moment  they  fail  me.  I  am  a  madman  to  order  my 
life  according  to  caprices  of  irresponsible  females,  to  tiptoe  over  the 
quicksands  of  their  shifting  temper,  to  take  measurements  from  stars 
that  turn  out  to  be  meteors.  What  a  life  for  a  man!  Why  do  I  go 
on  with  it  ? 

Suddenly  his  attention  focused  upon  Teresa  who,  while  look- 
ing appropriately  sympathetic,  was  enjoying  the  fireworks  and 
continuing  her  humming.  A  flash  of  inspiration  cleared  away 
his  frown.  "I  have  it,"  he  whispered.  "You  shall  sing  the  Queen, 
Bebe." 

Teresa  was  in  the  right  humor  to  respond  to  a  good  joke,  and 
this  was  one  of  the  best.  She  threw  back  her  head,  opened  her 
mouth  wide,  and  laughed  until  the  tears  came.  The  Colonel, 
keenly  appraising,  looked  her  up  and  down,  then  took  her  by 
the  shoulders  to  make  her  listen. 

"I  mean  it.  There  is  no  other  way.  You  must  not  fail  me." 
Teresa  was  reduced  from  amazement  to  silence.  Could  it  be 
that  he  was  in  earnest  ? 

Up  went  her  left  eyebrow,  a  danger  signal:  "That  is  ridicu- 
lous," she  answered.  "I  am  not  a  singer.  I  have  never  acted 
upon  a  stage  in  my  life,  I  don't  know  the  part,  and  I  do  not  in- 
tend to  make  a  fool  of  myself." 

"Nonsense,"  growled  the  Colonel.  "You  have  four  days. 
What  more  do  you  want?  You  have  a  voice,  you  have  studied 
singing,  you  are  musical.  There  is  not  a  moment  during  the  day 
when  you  are  not  acting,  whether  you  know  it  or  not.  You  shall 
have  plenty  of  rehearsals.  You  are  made  for  the  part.  If  worse 
comes  to  worst  you  can  always  fall  back  upon  your  looks." 

Teresa  exploded  with  a  square-cut:  "Indeed  not!"  These  two 
words  were  and  remained  one  of  the  Leitmotifs  of  her  vocabu- 
lary. There  was  no  doubt  that  the  subject  was  definitively 
closed. 

Tietjens  had  been  biding  her  time.  She  knew  her  Teresa  and 
how  best  to  handle  her.  Turning  to  Mapleson  quite  casually  she 


io4  TERESA  CARRENO 

said :  "Teresa  is  absolutely  right.  It  is  much  too  difficult  a  thing 
to  expect  of  her." 

A  slight  shrug  of  the  shoulders  was  Teresa's  response.  It 
seemed  to  say:  "Let  her  think  so  if  she  wants  to.  I  could  do  it  if 
I  liked.  But  I  don't  wish  to." 

Unmindful  that  she  was  playing  "Monsieur  le  Corbeau"  to 
Tietjens'  "Monsieur  le  Renard,"  she  began  to  reconsider.  After 
all,  the  matter  had  something  to  be  said  in  its  favor.  Looking 
Colonel  Mapleson  straight  in  the  eye,  her  eyes  narrowed,  she 
assumed  the  air  of  a  shrewd  business  woman  about  to  drive  a 
hard  bargain.  "I  will  sing  the  Queen,  but  under  one  condition. 
You  must  let  me  have  all  the  artists  I  choose  to  assist  me  at  my 
London  concert." 
"Agreed,"  said  the  Colonel.  "You  have  only  to  name  them." 
Teresa  had  her  weaknesses,  but  modesty  was  not  numbered 
among  them.  Brazenly,  beginning  with  Tietjens  herself,  she 
made  a  considerable  list  of  other  popular  singers  on  the  roster 
of  Her  Majesty's  Theatre.  Mapleson  gasped,  mainly  with  ad- 
miration for  a  quality  he  recognized  as  kindred  to  himself.  This 
was  not  the  time  to  count  the  cost.  He  prepared  to  make  the  in- 
evitable sacrifice. 

Having  committed  herself,  Teresa  was  overcome  with  fright. 
What  if  she  should  make  a  complete  fiasco?  For  safety's  sake 
she  stipulated  also  that  the  name  of  the  artist  she  was  displacing 
be  left  on  the  program. 

Once  having  undertaken  the  part,  she  went  at  it  with  all  the 
heat  of  her  dynamic  energy.  The  operatic  transcriptions,  the 
improvised  operas  of  her  childhood  had  helped  inadvertently  to 
pave  the  way  for  this,  her  first  appearance  in  a  real  opera.  Sing- 
ing, acting,  what  fun  it  was !  And  what  might  not  come  of  it ! 
Overnight  she  imagined  herself  a  great  singer,  perhaps  to  travel 
with  the  adored  Patti  in  her  private  car  of  whose  luxury  she 
had  heard  so  much.  She  too  might  lead  a  fabulous,  merry  life  in 
a  world  as  thrilling  as  it  was  unreal!  She  must  not  fail!  Nor 
did  she.  Even  under  her  own  name  she  could  have  taken  pride 
in  her  performance.  The  critics  were  mildly  benevolent : 


TERESA  CARRENO  105 

The  Margherita  of  Mile.  Colombo  showed  cultivation  in  the  finish 
of  the  runs  and  shakes,  especially  in  "A  questa  voce  sola";  but  her  in- 
tonation in  the  air  in  which  she  apostrophises  Touraine,  in  the  garden 
of  France,  was  not  quite  perfect  in  intonation.  Her  duets  with  Raoul 
when  he  is  brought  in  blindfolded  went  very  well. 

She  did  not,  however,  become  famous  overnight,  and  her  feat 
was  soon  forgotten.  Nobody  encouraged  her,  all  too  youthful  for 
the  career  of  a  singer  as  she  was,  to  change  from  a  profession  in 
which  she  already  excelled  to  one  of  unpredictable  future.  Per- 
haps later!  With  this  in  reserve,  she  turned  back  to  her  piano, 
and  when  in  the  Monday  Pops  she  and  Joachim  played  the 
"Kreutzer  Sonate"  together,  she  was  in  no  doubt  that  this  was 
the  instrument  with  which  she  felt  most  herself. 

In  May  of  1872  Teresa  gave  her  own  matinee  in  the  Hanover 
Square  rooms.  Tietjens  was  prevented  from  singing  by  indisposi- 
tion so  convenient  to  vocalists.  Otherwise  it  was  a  gratifying  suc- 
cess, and  the  Athenaeum  notes  that  "Mile.  Carreno  has  not  only 
taken  a  place  in  the  front  ranks  of  lady  pianists,  but  she  is  also 
an  accomplished  vocalist."  With  young  Frederic  Cowen  she  was 
heard  in  Schumann's  "Andante  and  Variations"  for  two  pianos, 
unconscious  that  life  was  about  to  write  an  even  more  startling 
variant  for  her. 


Maurice  Strakosch's  experience  with  Teresa  on  tour  made  him 
know  that  he  could  count  upon  her.  More  valuable  still  she  had 
the  gift  of  surrounding  herself  with  an  aura  of  cheerful,  harmless 
camaraderie  that  was  positively  infectious.  Jealousy  and  intrigue 
did  not  long  survive  in  an  atmosphere  dominated  by  her  whole- 
some outlook.  With  the  keenness  developed  by  years  of  familiar 
association  with  artists  in  their  more  difficult  moments,  Strakosch 
saw  what  a  personal  as  well  as  box-office  asset  Teresa  would  be 
with  the  group  he  was  selecting  to  travel  in  the  United  States 
during  the  coming  winter.  When  he  named  the  other  artists, 
Teresa  needed  no  persuasion  to  join  them.  Carlotta  Patti,  Ade- 
lina's  less  famous  sister,  offered  herself  as  chaperon,  the  aging 
Mario,  who  had  already  given  several  farewell  concerts  in  Eng- 
land, took  the  place  of  a  father,  and  one  at  least  was  close  to  her 
in  age,  the  young  violinist  £mile  Sauret.  Preliminary  rehearsals 
soon  made  them  friends.  He  was  appealing  to  Teresa  from  the 
straight  and  long-cut  hair  that  framed  a  thin  and  mournful  face 
to  his  sensitive  fingers.  "He  probably  hasn't  enough  to  eat,"  wor- 
ried Teresa,  and  all  that  was  maternal  within  her  awoke  to  take 
him  under  her  wing.  "Amongst  the  departures  for  New  York 
last  week,"  says  the  Athenaeum  on  September  i,  "were  Madame 
Paulina  Lucca,  Mile.  Kellogg,  Mile.  Carreno,  Miss  Clara  Doria, 
Col.  Liebhart,  Signor  Mario,  and  Herr  Rubinstein,  the  pianist." 
It  must  have  been  a  gay  crossing. 

The  company  made  its  debut  at  Steinway  Hall  on  October  4, 
1872.  Says  this  same  journal: 

It  was  fortunate  for  the  once  great  tenor  that  he  had  as  colleague 
Signora  Carlotta  Patti,  who  compensated  for  the  decay  of  the  voice 
of  her  comrade.  S'enora  Teresa  Carreno,  the  pianist,  who  created  such 
a  sensation  last  season  at  the  Monday  Popular  Concerts,  has  delighted 
the  American  amateurs  who  were  also  pleased  with  the  execution  of 
the  young  Sauret. 

The  tour  began  in  New  York,  where  the  Strakosch  Company 
established  itself  in  the  Clarendon  Hotel  on  Union  Square.  One 
evening  Teresa  sat  eating  her  dinner  at  the  long  common  table. 


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TERESA  CARRENO  107 

Absorbed  in  thought  she  failed  to  notice  that  the  vacant  chair  at 
her  right  was  empty  no  longer.  All  at  once  her  eye  was  attracted 
by  a  hand  beside  hers,  an  unmistakable  hand.  It  could  belong 
only  to  Rubinstein!  It  did.  He  embarrassed  her  to  confusion  by 
throwing  his  arms  around  her  without  regard  for  the  other 
guests,  giving  her  a  hearty  kiss  for  good  measure.  In  the  course 
of  conversation  he  inquired:  "Have  you  a  nice  room  for  prac- 
ticing, Teresita?" 

"Yes,  indeed  I  have,"  was  the  answer. 

"Then  you  are  luckier  than  I.  My  room  is  on  the  court,  small 
and  dark,  and  the  only  view  I  have  is  of  a  pretty  girl  in  the 
window  opposite.  Even  that  does  me  no  good.  Whenever  she 
sees  me  looking  in  that  direction,  down  goes  the  shade,  and 
there  is  nothing  left  to  stare  at  but  the  blank  wall,  which  is  not 
very  inspiring.  Do  you  suppose  I  might  practice  in  your  room 
when  you  are  not  there?" 

Nothing  could  have  been  more  to  Teresa's  liking.  Every  day 
from  two  to  four,  the  time,  she  pretended,  when  it  was  her 
habit  to  walk  in  the  park,  her  room  was  his.  Although  she 
respected  Rubinstein's  desire  to  be  undisturbed  while  working, 
yet  here  was  a  chance  she  could  not  neglect  to  learn  something 
precious.  Teresa  laid  her  plans.  Promptly  at  two  she  put  on 
hat  and  coat,  taking  elaborate  leave  of  the  Master  as  he  entered, 
only  to  slip  quietly  into  a  connecting  room  whose  other  door 
gave  on  the  hall.  There  she  listened  intently,  until  Rubinstein 
had  finished  his  practicing  and  began  to  improvise  at  random. 
That  was  the  signal  for  her  to  return  from  her  alleged  walk 
more  refreshed  than  she  would  have  been  had  she  actually 
taken  the  brisk  exercise  she  so  graphically  described.  And  now 
it  was  her  turn  to  play,  while  Rubinstein  became  the  teacher, 
until  both  were  too  tired  to  go  on.  The  tour  could  not  have 
begun  better  for  either  one  of  them. 

Teresa  was  the  first  to  leave  New  York.  A  reporter,  come 
for  an  interview  just  after  the  farewell,  was  disturbed  to  find 
Rubinstein  running  his  fingers  through  his  hair  and  wailing: 
"I  have  lost  her;  I  have  lost  my  Sunshine!" 


108  TERESA  CARRENO 

Journeying  through  Canada  Teresa  became  more  and  more 
aware  that  her  "Sunshine"  was  fimile  rather  than  Rubinstein. 
His  constant  coughing  worried  her.  From  Charlie,  her  official 
duenna,  she  learned  that  his  clothes  were  not  suited  to  the 
severe  climate,  that  his  underwear  needed  mending,  his  but- 
tons attaching.  To  take  upon  herself  the  rehabilitating  of  this 
young  gentleman's  wardrobe  was  not  different  from  doing  it 
for  her  dolls  of  long  ago,  only  infinitely  more  rewarding,  fimile 
Sauret  accepted  her  solicitude  with  endearing  helplessness.  But 
better  than  that  there  was  a  spontaneous  understanding  in  their 
musical  give  and  take.  Teresa  felt  in  it  a  sign  of  more  far- 
reaching  oneness  still.  For  the  first  time  the  mother  and  the 
musician  within  her  felt  fused.  She  was  completely  happy. 
Even  her  clothes  showed  it.  In  England  she  could  never  be  as 
colorful  as  she  liked.  Now  she  gave  her  tropical  soul  free  play, 
let  her  dressmaker  run  riot  with  ribbons  and  bright  decoration. 
If  Boston  thought  her  "loud,"  and  Tietjens  called  her  some- 
what "schlampig,"  why  should  she  care  ?  She  was  gay  at  heart. 
With  fimile  Sauret  she  felt  translated,  set  apart  together,  doubly 
herself.  These  two  could  electrify  audiences,  each  one  in  his 
own  right.  In  ensemble  a  spark  kindled  between  them  that 
heightened  their  magnetic  effect.  Before  all  their  playing  of  the 
variations  in  Beethoven's  "Kreutzer  Sonate"  was  moving,  no 
more  to  their  listeners  than  to  themselves. 

There  was  something  Teresa  wanted  to  learn,  how  to  curtsy 
as  grandly  as  large-bosomed  Carlotta  knew  how  to  do  in  spite 
of  a  slight  lameness  which  had  prevented  her  from  engaging 
in  an  operatic  career.  She  would  give  anything  to  sink  so  deeply 
to  the  floor,  burying  her  head  in  semblance  of  modest  gratitude 
in  the  folds  of  the  gown  billowing  around  her,  then  as  gradu- 
ally rising  to  her  full  height,  proud  and  commanding.  Teresa 
spent  hours  practicing  before  the  mirror,  while  Carlotta  Patti 
patiently  did  her  best  to  make  her  mistress  of  the  art.  At  last 
came  the  evening  on  which  Teresa  was  to  try  out  her  accom- 
plishment in  public.  In  her  excitement  she  made  unpermissi- 
ble  mistakes  in  her  playing,  which  the  audience  applauded 


TERESA  CARRENO  109 

noisily  regardless.  As  she  made  ready  to  sink  slowly  down, 
Teresa  felt  Carlotta  watching  from  the  wings.  Attacked  by 
unaccustomed  stage  fright  Teresa  miscalculated,  lost  her  bal- 
ance, and  sat  heavily  upon  the  floor  to  rise  as  best  she  could. 
People  tittered,  and  worse  than  that,  Carlotta  was  shaking  with 
laughter,  she  knew.  Tears  came  to  Teresa's  eyes.  Never  again 
did  she  attempt  to  impress  an  audience  in  that  particular  way. 

Not  long  after  this  she  found  herself  once  more  upon  the 
stage  of  the  Music  Hall  in  Boston,  playing  the  "G  minor  Con- 
certo" of  Mendelssohn,  then  Liszt's  Faust  "Fantasie,"  Mendels- 
sohn's "Rondo  Capriccioso,"  and  the  "A  flat  Ballade"  of 
Chopin.  The  very  favorable  criticism  mentioned  as  one  of  the 
sensations  of  the  evening  the  masterly  playing  of  young  Sauret. 
Mr.  Dwight  recalled  that  Teresa  has  not  played  in  Boston  since 
her  tenth  birthday,  "and  now  comes  back  a  tall  and  beautiful 
young  lady  and  accomplished  artist."  He  remarked  upon  "the 
Spanish  fire  and  impatience  of  manner  which  somewhat  dis- 
turbs the  pure  impression  of  her  classical  interpretation,"  but 
he  was  stirred  by  her  brilliance  in  bravura  passages.  "Sauret 
played  Spohr's  Eighth  Concerto  like  a  master.  There  were  soul- 
ful tenderness  and  purity  in  his  rendering  of  poetic  pieces." 

Then  there  came  a  trip  southward.  In  Charleston's  Music 
Hall  Teresa  and  Sauret  were  heard  in  the  fantasia  on  themes 
from  William  Tell.  Soon  after  Mrs.  O'Leary's  cow  had  upset 
the  fatal  bucket  the  Patti-Mario  troupe  appeared  in  the  stricken 
city  of  Chicago,  playing  in  the  only  available  place  large  enough 
that  had  been  spared  by  the  fire,  a  church.  Then  they  turned 
back  to  the  East.  In  March  the  Springfield  Republican  testifies 
that  Carreno  redeems  in  her  opening  womanhood  the  promise 
she  gave  as  a  prodigy.  "She  owns  the  celestial  spark  of  genius. 
Miss  Carreno's  playing  (the  favorite  pronunciation  of  her  name 
was  a  nasal  Treesa  Creeno)  is  luxuriant,  glowing,  passionate 
to  a  degree  not  remotely  approached  since  Gottschalk's  death, 
and  not  equalled  by  that  artist." 

On  the  whole  for  all  but  Teresa  and  fimile  it  had  been  a  dull 
tour.  In  late  spring  the  company  returned  to  England  at  least 


no  TERESA  CARRENO 

pecuniarily  content.  As  for  Teresa,  she  lost  no  time  in  visiting 
her  father,  bubbling  over  with  stories  of  America,  in  which  the 
name  of  Emile  Sauret  loomed  ominously.  Manuel  Antonio  was 
quick  to  sense  serious  implications.  '"If  you  feel  sorry  for  this 
young  man's  neglected  condition  by  all  means  sew  on  his  but- 
tons, mend  his  clothes,  buy  his  food  even,  but  don't  on  that 
account  marry  him,"  he  pleaded,  throwing  all  the  weight  of 
influence  in  the  balance  against  a  union  he  feared.  With  fore- 
boding of  a  greater  separation  than  that  of  space  he  saw  her 
off  for  England,  hoping  against  hope  that  his  child  would  not 
take  the  irrevocable  step  with  Sauret,  spoiled,  weak,  and  selfish 
as  he  felt  him  essentially  to  be. 

Teresa  was  conscious  only  of  the  deliciousness  of  a  first  love. 
At  the  beginning  of  June  the  journals  hint  that  Mile.  Carreno 
is  about  to  become  Mme.  Sauret,  and  on  July  13,  1873,  he 
Menestrel  announces  the  union  as  a  fact.  Her  name  is  listed  as 
Mme.  Teresa  Carreno-Sauret  in  the  programs  of  the  London 
Philharmonic  Society.  This  was  another  step  upward,  although 
according  to  the  Musical  Times  "Mendelssohn's  Rondo  in  B 
Minor  was  dashed  off  with  a  brilliancy  of  touch  and  energy  by 
Madame  Carreno-Sauret  which  pleased  the  general  audience 
more  than  the  judicious  few." 

The  young  Saurets  took  residence  at  16,  Clifton  Villas,  Maida 
Hill,  West.  Concerts,  lessons,  and  happiness  made  the  time 
pass  quickly.  Teresa  played  as  before  in  the  Monday  Popular 
Concerts.  On  March  23,  1874,  her  first  child,  Emilita,  was  born. 

Three  months  later  she  and  her  husband  for  the  first  time 
staged  a  joint  concert.  It  was  announced  as  a  "morning  con- 
cert," taking  place  on  Thursday  afternoon,  June  n,  in  the 
Queen's  Concert  Rooms,  Hanover  Square.  Sofa  stalls  sold  for 
a  half  guinea  and  unreserved  seats  for  five  shillings  and  a  half. 
They  dispensed  with  patronesses,  but  the  number  of  assisting 
colleagues,  singers,  and  instrumentalists  was  large,  including 
three  conductors,  Herr  Ganz,  Signor  Campana,  and  Mr.  F.  H. 
Cowen  to  make  it  thoroughly  cosmopolitan.  Mendelssohn's 


TERESA  CARRENO  in 

"Piano  Quartette"  in  G  minor  opened  the  concert.  Teresa  col- 
laborated with  Sauret  in  playing  the  "Sonate  in  G,"  op.  30,  of 
Beethoven.  One  of  the  women's  voices  in  the  trio  from  // 
Matrimonio  Segreto  by  Cimarosa  was  Teresa's  own.  The  life 
of  a  singer  was  still  exerting  the  pressure  of  its  appeal.  The 
piano  solos  were  children  of  her  own  imagination,  "Highland" 
and  "La  Fausse  Note."  The  concert  closed,  reminiscently  for 
Teresa,  with  a  "Grand  Duo"  on  themes  from  the  Huguenots 
played  by  the  Saurets. 

For  Manuel  Antonio  life  held  no  further  meaning.  Teresa's 
marriage  was  his  death  warrant.  To  be  estranged  from  her  who 
was  so  peculiarly  his,  to  be  supplanted,  no  longer  her  sole  con- 
fidant! Alone  he  felt  himself  unequal  to  the  difficult  task  of 
guiding  flighty  Manuel  into  the  ways  of  responsibility.  Father 
and  daughter  still  met  as  often  as  possible  but  never  again  on 
the  same  intimate  footing.  Shortly  after  Emilita's  birth,  the 
three  Carreno's  had  their  pictures  taken  together,  at  first  glance 
a  photograph  of  three  unhappy  people.  Teresa  was  broken- 
hearted to  find  her  father  feeble  and  failing.  For  the  first  time 
she  knew  what  it  was  to  have  to  choose  between  two  affections, 
two  duties,  each  drawing  her  with  equal  pull.  A  new  American 
tour  was  pending.  When  Teresa  left  her  father  that  summer, 
both  must  have  realized  that  they  were  facing  a  final  separa- 
tion. 

At  the  end  of  August,  1874,  Manuel  Antonio  was  buried  in 
Paris  with  quiet  ceremony.  Le  Menestrel  writes: 

Last  Sunday  the  funeral  service  of  a  one  time  minister  of  finance  of 
Venezuela  was  celebrated,  one  who  became  through  political  misad- 
ventures one  of  our  best  professors  of  piano,  notably  of  his  daughter 
Teresa  Carrefio.  M.  Antonio  Carreno,  who  had  studied  music  with 
passion  in  prosperous  days,  called  his  favorite  art  to  his  aid  and 
comfort  against  misfortune.  Moreover,  a  man  of  science  and  numbers, 
he  transformed  the  mechanism  of  the  piano  into  the  art  of  mathe- 
matics, and  according  to  his  method  he  made  of  his  young  daughter 
one  of  the  greatest  virtuosos  of  modern  times.  He  also  taught  her 


ii2  TERESA  CARRENO 

harmony  as  he  had  himself  learned  it,  through  reflective  study  of 
good  music,  and  it  is  known  that  the  compositions  of  Teresa  Carreno 
are  as  highly  esteemed  in  France  as  in  England  where  for  the  last  few 
years  lives  the  beautiful  young  artist,  married  to  the  skillful  violinist, 
Emile  Sauret. 


Deeply  affected  by  her  father's  death,  the  more  so  because  she 
felt  that  it  had  been  hastened  by  her  own  doing,  Teresa  wel- 
comed the  distraction  of  another  journey  across  the  Atlantic. 
She  felt  herself  adrift  without  anchor.  Sauret,  she  soon  had 
come  to  realize,  would  have  to  be  considered  a  problem,  not  a 
support.  The  rivalry  between  home  and  art  was  becoming  a 
harrowing  reality.  With  a  doubly  heavy  heart  she  was  obliged 
to  leave  her  baby  in  the  safekeeping  of  Mrs.  Bischoff,  while  she 
set  sail,  again  under  Strakosch's  management,  with  a  company 
of  which  lima  di  Murska  was  the  prima  donna,  and  Sauret  the 
violinist. 

The  tour  was  to  begin  in  the  East,  reaching  to  the  far  West 
with  plans  for  an  extension  as  far  as  Australia.  In  Boston,  where 
Teresa's  friend,  Mme.  Rudersdorfl,  had  established  herself  as 
a  singing  teacher,  Mr.  Dwight  still  wrote  trenchant  reviews.  In 
his  journal  of  October  3  he  had  declared  that  M.  Sauret  never 
made  so  excellent  an  impression,  that  Mme.  Sauret  was  left  un- 
happily to  play  three  solos  at  the  end  of  a  program  that,  like 
most,  lasted  much  too  long.  He  liked  best  the  "Andante  in  F" 
of  Beethoven,  and  mentioned  the  "Spring  Song"  and  the 
"March"  from  the  Ruins  of  Athens  favorably.  In  these  con- 
certs the  composition  most  likely  to  be  saved  for  the  end,  be- 
cause of  its  wide,  if  musically  unwarranted  popularity,  was 
Braga's  "Angel's  Serenade"  in  trio  form  with  Teresa  presiding 
at  the  piano  and  the  composer  himself  playing  the  cello,  while 
di  Murska  sang  the  part  of  the  heaven-hungry  daughter. 

When  artists  were  to  be  added  or  substituted,  it  was  Teresa 
who  was  entrusted  with  their  choice.  One  of  these  young  as- 
pirants was  a  tenor,  Nathaniel  Cohen,  who  in  his  diary  de- 
scribed life  with  this  troupe.  At  their  first  meeting  Teresa  by 
her  natural  friendliness  at  once  put  him  at  ease.  He  forgot  to 
be  nervous  when  she  quietly  sat  down  at  the  piano  to  play  the 
accompaniments  for  the  songs  he  had  brought  for  the  audi- 
tion. Teresa  praised  the  quality  of  his  voice,  as  always  unstint- 
ing in  her  enthusiasm.  For  six  weeks  he  became  a  regular  mem- 


ii4  TERESA  CARRENO 

ber  of  the  company.  After  a  week  of  rehearsal  the  first  concert 
took  place  in  Los  Angeles.  Since  the  railroad  was  not  yet  com- 
pleted, they  traveled  by  boat  to  disembark  at  San  Pedro  where 
Teresa  recovered  from  her  seasickness  in  the  Pico  House.  The 
Saurets  had  taken  a  great  liking  to  their  new  colleague.  He 
ate  his  supper  with  them  over  fine  Bass  ale,  and  found  Teresa, 
especially,  talkative  and  in  high  spirits.  It  was  a  relief  to  find 
in  her  a  woman  who  did  not  always  have  to  talk  about  music, 
and  he  had  not  yet  become  aware  that  Teresa's  emotional  ba- 
rometer could  register  extreme  ups  and  downs.  Personal  un- 
happiness  she  had  learned  to  hide  under  the  protective  cloak  of 
merriment.  It  was  not  that  she  had  ceased  to  mourn  for  her 
father,  or  to  long  for  her  child;  but  she  had  recuperative  pow- 
ers so  elastic  that  she  could  on  the  instant  ignore  a  profound 
attack  of  melancholy  to  infect  a  whole  gathering  with  joyous- 
ness  she  had  only  assumed.  At  the  end  she  herself  was  capable 
of  forgetting  that  it  was  not  real. 

In  Los  Angeles  the  audience  was  responsive,  being  largely 
German  and  so,  music-loving.  Four  performances  in  which 
Teresa  and  fimile  were  singly  and  together  the  favorites  fol- 
lowed each  other  closely.  Between  concerts  there  was  time  for 
drives  to  the  seashore — Teresa  appreciated  its  grandeur  best 
with  her  own  feet  on  terra  firma — and  for  a  side  trip  to  play 
in  Anaheim,  a  German  wine-growing  settlement.  In  the  pres- 
ence of  raw  nature  in  any  form  Teresa  felt  herself  expanding. 
The  ocean  had  her  respect,  but  it  was  the  mountain  scenery  she 
could  love.  On  the  way  from  San  Luis  Obispo  to  Santa  Bar- 
bara she  reveled  in  the  magnificent,  precarious  precipices  the 
stagecoach  just  managed  to  avoid,  as  it  swung  around  curves 
that  made  the  others  cover  their  eyes.  This  was  living!  While 
Sauret  cowered  inside,  Teresa  and  Nathaniel  mounted  to  the 
driver's  seat,  one  on  each  side  of  him,  rivaling  one  another  in 
telling  minstrel  jokes  and  singing  Negro  songs  for  his  amuse- 
ment. They  counted  thousands  of  ground  squirrels,  and  were 
not  at  all  anxious  to  arrive  in  time  for  the  concert  that  evening. 
It  was  followed,  as  was  customary  there,  by  a  very  informal  re- 


TERESA  CARRENO  115 

ception  for  the  performers.  In  the  same  jolly  way  as  before  they 
again  entertained  the  driver  on  the  way  to  San  Bene  Ventura, 
where  the  house  was  nearly  sold  out.  It  was  a  rare  thing  for 
known  artists  to  come  to  so  small  a  place. 

Backstage  all  was  peaceful  on  this  particular  night;  that  is, 
until  the  Saurets  were  to  play  together.  Emile  was  apparently 
out  of  patience,  perhaps  with  his  wife.  That  was  becoming  less 
and  less  uncommon.  Inadvertently  or  not,  with  the  first  note 
of  their  duo  his  foot  began  an  insistent  tapping.  Teresa,  en- 
raged at  this  implied  criticism  of  her  tempo,  answered  with 
chords  that  should  by  their  increasingly  bitter  tang  have  given 
warning.  Tap,  tap  went  the  foot.  Teresa  boiled.  She  tried  by 
playing  fortissimo  to  drown  out  the  sound  of  this  unwelcome 
metronome.  Sauret  went  on  playing  and  tapping.  Nathaniel 
Cohen  in  the  dressing  room  next  to  theirs  heard  the  music  stop. 
Suddenly  there  was  a  crash!  A  tirade  in  angry  French  pitched 
higher  and  higher.  Nathaniel  rushed  to  see.  There  stood  Te- 
resa, an  avenging  fury,  eyes  flashing,  adjectives  rolling  ava- 
lanchelike down  upon  her  husband.  "I  am  enough  of  an  artist 
to  count  without  your  assistance,"  she  shrieked,  flinging  herself 
out  of  the  room.  Sauret's  temper  had  exploded  more  destruc- 
tively. On  the  floor,  where  in  his  rage  he  had  thrown  it,  lay 
his  precious  violin,  broken  beyond  repair.  At  breakfast  next 
morning  this  marital  ensemble  was  by  mutual  agreement  not 
on  speaking  terms.  It  was  Nathaniel's  part  to  play  the  em- 
barrassing role  of  placating  go-between. 

There  was  one  last  stage  ride  to  Soledad,  the  railway  terminal 
— harmony  was  at  last  reestablished — and  then  to  San  Fran- 
cisco, where  the  artists  were  to  be  redistributed.  Nathaniel  was 
chosen  to  accompany  the  Saurets  to  Virginia  City  for  a  week 
of  concerts.  Valerga,  the  soprano,  had  just  resigned.  What 
would  become  of  the  duets?  Teresa  offered  to  sing  them  with 
Nathaniel,  succeeding  so  charmingly  that  he  wondered  at  her 
doing  it  so  rarely.  Later  she  confided  to  him  that  she  meant 
to  sing  in  opera  upon  her  return  to  Europe. 

The  troupe  finally  disbanded  in  Carson  City,  a  mining  town 


n6  TERESA  CARRENO 

in  which  every  other  building  was  either  a  saloon  or  a  gam- 
bling den  and  musical  hall.  The  Opera  House  was  sold  out 
for  both  nights.  It  might  not  be  a  godly  city,  but  it  was  music- 
minded.  Teresa  sang  and  was  herself  pleased  with  the  sound, 
as  with  the  warm  response  of  her  disreputable  audience.  She 
had  never  been  in  better  form  or  in  better  humor.  Prophetically 
with  the  strains  of  the  "Last  Hope"  the  tour  ended. 

The  two  Saurets  were  at  odds.  That  was  no  secret  to  anybody 
but  perhaps  themselves.  Scenes  were  nothing  unusual,  and  they 
themselves  did  not  take  them  ultraseriously.  But  Teresa's  exu- 
berant vitality  was  too  much  for  the  self-contained  fimile.  It 
overpowered  him,  and  she  too  became  irritable.  Touring  from 
town  to  town,  where  anything  she  played  was  acceptable,  no 
matter  how  badly  she  did  it,  left  her  nothing  to  live  up  to.  Her 
nature  required  difficulties  to  conquer.  More  than  that  she 
wanted  and  needed  her  home. 

There  was  to  be  another  baby  soon.  Teresa  decided  to  await 
its  birth  in  New  York.  As  for  fimile,  to  be  tied  down  as  father 
of  another  child  that  he  did  not  want  was  not  to  his  mind.  In 
his  irritation  he  flaunted  his  temper  at  the  least  provocation. 
Everything  upset  him  from  the  mustiness  of  the  boardinghouse 
to  the  emptiness  of  his  purse.  Suddenly  he  was  overwhelmed 
by  homesickness  for  England,  and  one  morning  he  entered 
Teresa's  room  to  announce  abruptly,  "I  am  leaving."  Teresa 
was  dumbfounded.  Cold-blooded  though  he  was,  she  had  not 
thought  him  capable  of  this.  He  should  see  that  she  was  not 
one  to  be  downed.  Reaching  under  her  pillow,  she  took  what 
remained  of  their  capital,  seventy  dollars  in  all,  divided  it  into 
two  equal  parts,  and  taking  a  certain  pride  in  making  a  last 
gesture,  she  gave  him  one  half.  Then  pointing  melodramati- 
cally to  the  door  she  said:  "Go!  But  remember  this,  if  you  leave 
me  now,  I  shall  never  receive  you  again  as  long  as  I  live."  The 
door  closed  behind  him. 

Teresa  was  alone.  The  shock  was  too  great.  The  baby  did 
not  survive.  Disillusioned,  ill,  and  penniless — even  Manuel  was 


TERESA  CARRENO  117 

far  away  in  Africa  with  the  foreign  legion — she,  the  always 
self-sufficient,  had  to  depend  upon  a  few  loyal  friends  and  Mrs. 
Bischoff.  Two  things  were  certain.  She  could  not  in  her  humil- 
iation return  to  England  to  be  pitied,  and  she  and  Sauret  were 
separated  forever.  As  soon  as  possible  she  must  find  occupa- 
tion, earn  enough  to  bring  Emilita  to  America.  For  the  present 
there  was  no  thought  of  such  a  thing.  Teresa  was  slow  in  re- 
covering, the  summer  season  musically  nonexistent. 

A  letter  from  Mrs.  Bischoff,  to  whom  alone  she  had  written 
the  details  of  her  unhappiness,  was  usually  a  comfort.  Thank 
God,  her  child  was  well,  cared  for,  and  cherished!  One  morn- 
ing there  arrived  a  letter  which  contained  more  than  the  usual 
words  of  commiseration  and  reassurance.  "Preposterous,  revolt- 
ing; never  so  long  as  I  live!"  That  was  the  first  reaction.  Again 
and  again  she  read  it  through.  Mrs.  Bischoff  wanted  to  adopt 
Emilita,  her  baby!  She  had  come  to  love  the  child  as  her  own, 
she  said,  and  could  offer  her  the  security  of  home,  provide  her 
with  every  luxury,  educate  her  well,  eventually  make  her  heir 
to  the  family  fortune.  There  was  one  stipulation  only.  Teresa 
must  give  up  all  thought  of  seeing  Emilita  again,  must  promise 
to  make  no  attempt  to  communicate  with  her  ever.  "Her  little 
baby!"  Instant  angry  refusal  was  at  the  tip  of  her  pen.  While 
putting  her  feelings  on  paper,  maternal  protectiveness  had  time 
to  assert  itself.  What  after  all  could  she,  a  wandering  musician, 
offer  her  child?  Poverty,  insecurity,  fatherlessness.  The  love  of 
a  mother  seemed  to  weigh  light  in  the  balance.  She  was  still 
young  to  sound  the  spiritual  depths  of  resignation,  even  though 
at  the  age  of  eight  her  music  had  expressed  that  quality. 
Against  all  her  instincts  Teresa  made  the  decision.  In  favor  of 
the  rights  of  her  daughter  to  lead  a  carefree,  sheltered  life,  she 
signed  her  name  to  the  abdication  of  the  privilege  she  cherished 
most,  that  of  motherhood. 

Teresa's  world  of  the  moment  was  a  vacuum,  the  next  step 
not  worth  the  taking.  Self-preservation  supported  by  pride 
forced  her  to  muster  her  resources.  The  thought  of  staying  in 


n8  TERESA  CARRENO 

New  York  sickened  her.  Instead  she  resolved  to  make  a  fresh 
start  in  Boston. 

Once  there  she  turned  to  Mme.  Rudersdorff.  Here  was  one 
who  would  give  practical  advice  without  being  too  openly 
sympathetic.  In  this  Teresa  made  no  mistake.  It  happened  that 
Mme.  Rudersdorff  needed  an  accompanist  for  her  classes  and 
for  her  concerts.  In  exchange  she  offered  a  modest  salary.  Te- 
resa found  herself  at  once  in  a  congenial  atmosphere  to  whose 
lighthearted  camaraderie  she  could  not  long  remain  unrespon- 
sive. Appreciating  the  therapeutic  value  of  a  new  interest,  Mme. 
Rudersdorff  tactfully  chose  the  right  moment  to  suggest  that 
Teresa  join  her  class  of  singers.  Once  more  encouraged  to  enter 
the  realm  of  fictitious  tragedy,  this  time  to  offset  her  own  too 
real  distress,  she  began  to  prepare  for  the  opera  stage  in  earnest. 
Occasionally  she  was  reminded  that  she  was  a  pianist,  and  ac- 
cepted an  engagement  to  play  here  and  there  in  the  neighbor- 
hood. It  helped  in  meeting  expenses.  Her  repertoire  lay  dor- 
mant. She  felt  no  urge  to  increase  it. 

When  Mme.  Rudersdorff  appeared  in  public,  Teresa  was  in- 
variably at  the  piano  and  the  other  students  in  the  audience. 
To  invent  some  prank  at  the  expense  of  their  teacher  was 
tempting  because  of  a  certain  element  of  danger  connected 
with  it.  On  one  particular  evening  Mme.  Rudersdorff  was  sing- 
ing not  far  from  Boston  for  a  charitable  purpose.  The  students 
attended  en  masse.  Dressed  in  black  touched  with  the  scarlet 
she  loved — her  nature  like  Teresa's  delighted  in  the  colorful — 
she  stood  superbly  still  in  the  curve  of  the  piano,  waiting  for 
Teresa's  improvising  before  the  beginning  of  the  aria,  while 
the  audience  was  composing  itself.  Suddenly  she  stiffened. 
What  was  she  hearing?  Teresa,  unconcerned  except  for  a 
twinkling  eye,  was  preludizing  on  a  certain  nose  exercise 
known  to  every  Rudersdorff  pupil.  Tittering  and  nudging  in 
the  front  rows  suggested  that  there  were  those  who  were  thor- 
oughly enjoying  themselves  at  the  expense  of  their  teacher. 
Mme.  Rudersdorff  turned  slightly  and  as  unnoticeably  as  possi- 


TERESA  CARRENO  119 

ble  hissed  through  closed  teeth:  "Stop  that,  you  little  devil." 
Teresa  took  her  own  good  time  in  finding  a  modulation  suit- 
able to  the  key  and  the  spirit  of  the  aria.  The  concert  continued 
without  further  obstruction,  this  episode  indicating  that  Te- 
resa's emotional  barometer  was  rising  once  more  to  fair. 

A  frequent  guest  in  the  house  of  Mme.  Rudersdorff  during 
the  season  of  1876  was  the  great  conductor  and  pianist,  Hans 
von  Biilow.  It  was  there  that  Teresa's  playing  and  her  beauty 
first  came  to  his  notice.  He  was  less  impressed  with  Boston 
itself  as  a  musical  center,  much  preferring  Philadelphia. 

The  cosmopolitan  setting  of  the  Rudersdorff  circle  was  unaf- 
fected by  the  frostbitten  provincialism  of  Boston.  In  the  summer 
Teresa  accompanied  the  Rudersdorff  colony  to  Berlin,  Massa- 
chusetts, where  Mme.  Rudersdorff  had  rented  a  farm.  There, 
in  the  quiet  she  loved,  Teresa  made  preparations  to  appear, 
this  time  under  her  own  name,  in  opera.  The  role  decided  upon 
for  her  debut  was  that  of  Zerlina  in  Don  Giovanni.  The  uncom- 
plicated clarity  of  Mozart's  music  was  grateful  to  her  own  con- 
fused state  of  mind.  Mme.  Rudersdorff  had  chosen  wisely. 

Teresa's  good  friend,  Maurice  Strakosch,  happened  to  be  in 
America  with  his  opera  company,  which  included  Tietjens  and 
the  two  baritones  Brignoli  and  Giovanni  Tagliapietra.  Brign- 
oli's  huge  size  and  manner  invariably  caused  laughter.  But 
Tag,  as  he  was  familiarly  called,  was,  according  to  M.  Riviere, 
"perhaps  the  handsomest  and  most  dashing  baritone  that  ever 
appeared  in  Grand  Opera."  Strakosch  was  found  willing  to 
engage  Teresa  for  a  performance  of  Don  Giovanni  in  the  Acad- 
emy of  Music  of  New  York,  where  years  before  she  had  suc- 
ceeded and  frozen  in  her  so-called  benefit  performance  on  her 
ninth  birthday.  Teresa  was  in  the  habit  of  making  a  success  of 
everything  she  undertook  artistically.  Her  fiascos  were  regis- 
tered in  other  fields.  And  so  it  was  again.  The  papers  acknowl- 
edged her  gift  and  found  her  capable,  without  however  giving 
vent  to  extreme  enthusiasm.  The  New  York  Daily  Tribune  of 
February  26,  1876,  wrote: 


120  TERESA  CARRENO 

Mile.  Tietjens  reappeared  at  the  Academy  of  Music  last  evening, 
singing  for  the  first  time  here  the  part  of  Donna  Anna  in  Don 
Giovanni. 

Her  success  was  as  great  as  on  former  occasions  and  she  was  re- 
ceived with  delight  by  an  immense  audience.  Miss  Beaumont,  though 
new  to  the  stage,  rendered  the  difficult  part  of  Elvira  in  a  most  ac- 
ceptable manner.  The  trio  at  the  close  of  the  first  act  by  Mile.  Tietjens, 
Miss  Beaumont,  and  Brignoli  was  given  admirably,  and  was  en- 
thusiastically encored.  The  debutante  of  the  evening,  Mme.  Carrerio- 
Sauret,  in  the  part  of  Zerlina  was  warmly  greeted  by  the  audience 
and  made  a  pleasant  impression.  Her  singing  shows  careful  study  and 
excellent  method.  In  the  second  act  she  seemed  to  gain  confidence 
and  sang  the  solo  in  a  creditable  manner. 

This  review  is  complemented  by  one  in  D wight's  Journal  of 
March  18,  1876.  The  company  was  made  up  in  Boston  on  short 
notice  in  order  to  give  Tietjens,  already  attacked  by  her  fatal 
illness,  a  hearing  in  the  medium  for  which  she  was  most  fa- 
mous. This  single  performance  of  Don  Giovanni  took  place  in 
the  first  half  of  March.  The  critic  wrote  of  Carreno: 

The  debutante  of  the  evening,  the  beautiful  Mme.  Carreno-Sauret, 
in  the  part  of  Zerlina  acted  with  grace  and  spirit,  and  in  spite  of 
the  indulgence  asked  for  her  on  the  ground  of  health,  sang  most  of 
the  music  well,  showing  herself  possessor  of  a  clear,  rich,  telling 
voice  which  seems  to  promise  a  career. 

After  these  experimental  excursions  into  a  neighboring  field 
Teresa  took  stock  of  her  assets  as  a  singer.  In  all  honesty  she 
was  obliged  to  admit  that  her  voice,  powerful  as  it  was,  lacked 
a  certain  roundness  and  richness.  Perfection  would  be  hard  to 
acquire  and  harder  to  maintain.  Her  piano  playing  was  natural, 
effortless,  relaxed.  In  singing  self-consciousness  entered  in,  and 
she  could  not  help  fearing  and  tightening.  And  even  if  she  did 
succeed  in  achieving  a  relative  degree  of  fame,  how  short  the 
life  of  a  voice!  Besides,  it  would  be  difficult  for  her  to  follow 
unquestioningly  the  dictates  of  an  opera  director.  She  had  ven- 
tured far  enough  in  this  direction.  It  had  served  its  purpose  in 


BOSTON    1876 

Teresa  as  Zerlina  in  Don  Giovanni 


■ 


TERESA  CARRENO  121 

restoring  her  balance,  in  showing  her  once  again  clearly  that, 
whatever  the  byways  she  might  be  tempted  to  explore,  the 
piano  was  her  instrument. 

Mr.  Weber,  owner  of  the  Weber  Piano  Company,  was  of  the 
same  opinion.  Teresa  had  played  his  pianos  now  and  then,  and 
under  her  fingers  they  sounded  superbly  their  best.  He  de- 
cided to  engage  her  to  represent  his  interests  in  concert  at  a 
modest  but  fixed  salary.  For  fourteen  years  she  played  under 
Weber  contract.  Her  daily  needs  were  provided  for.  It  was  no 
longer  advisable  to  live  in  Boston.  New  York  was  the  far  more 
convenient  point  of  departure  for  a  pianist,  and  there  again  she 
took  up  residence  in  the  fall  of  1876. 

Young  James  Huneker  heard  Teresa  in  one  of  the  first  of  her 
performances  after  she  had  freed  herself  from  the  operatic  urge. 
Time  after  time  he  was  impelled  to  propose  to  her.  Together 
with  Adelaide  Nielson  and  Mme.  Scott-Siddons  he  considered 
her  one  of  the  three  most  beautiful  women  then  before  the 
public,  and  he  remembered  her  on  one  hot  night  wearing  a 
scarlet  dress  as  fiery  as  her  playing.  "I  close  my  eyes,"  said  Mr. 
Huneker,  "and  then,  as  if  I  were  surrounded  by  a  scarlet  cloud, 
I  see  her  and  I  hear  her.  .  .  .  Even  her  manner  of  playing  for 
me  has  always  seemed  scarlet,  as  Rubinstein's  was  golden,  and 
Joseffy's  silver." 

A  person  immediate  in  reaction  is  never  long  in  making 
friends.  A  casual  invitation  from  Juan  Buitrago,  a  South  Amer- 
ican violinist  who  had  accompanied  the  Carrenos  on  their  first 
voyage  to  Philadelphia  in  1862,  to  hear  his  talented  young  piano 
pupil,  Eddie  MacDowell,  play,  was  for  Teresa  the  beginning 
of  a  lifelong  and  intimate  friendship  with  the  MacDowell  fam- 
ily. Fanny  MacDowell,  Eddie's  mother,  was  associated  with  a 
Conservatory  of  Music  in  an  administrative  capacity.  Her  ge- 
nial husband  Thomas  owned  a  not-too-prospering  milk  circuit. 
Although  Fanny  was  not  herself  a  musician,  she  liked  to  sur- 
round herself  with  young  artists.  One  of  these  was  Buitrago, 
adopted  as  a  member  of  her  household  in  return  for  the  in- 
struction he  gave  to  young  Edward.  Teresa  recognized  at  first 


122  TERESA  CARRENO 

hearing  the  extraordinary  talent  of  this  boy  of  fourteen,  and 
was  immediately  attracted  to  his  parents,  who  encouraged  her 
to  confide  to  them  the  story  of  her  unhappiness.  Taken  captive 
by  Teresa's  charm  and  beauty,  their  sympathies  were  enlisted 
in  her  behalf.  In  their  simple  home  on  East  Nineteenth  Street, 
Teresa  could  rely  upon  finding  unwavering  affection  and  prac- 
tical advice.  There  was  the  understanding  family  life  she 
longed  for,  there  was  a  friend  with  whom  she  could  share  a 
joke,  for  their  sense  of  the  ridiculous  was  fundamentally  alike. 
Soon  it  was  "my  dearest  girl"  and  "your  devoted  Fanny."  In- 
terrupted by  temporary  misunderstandings  their  close  intimacy 
lasted  through  life,  largely  because  Fanny  MacDowell,  sixteen 
years  her  senior,  had  the  common  sense  to  respect  Teresa's  in- 
dependence, while  exerting  a  decidedly  leveling  influence.  On 
her  part  Teresa  brought  color  and  radiance  to  enliven  the  work- 
a-day  world  of  the  MacDowells. 

Teresa  Carreno's  importance  in  the  musical  development  of 
Edward  MacDowell  in  his  formative  years  was  determining 
and  constructive.  As  she  went  freely  in  and  out  of  his  house, 
playing  on  his  piano  when  the  spirit  moved  her,  he  must  have 
learned  much  merely  by  listening.  More  than  that  she  occa- 
sionally practiced  with  him,  taking  his  part  against  the  majority 
opinion  that  music  was  no  profession  for  a  boy,  that  it  was 
bound  to  make  him  a  "sissy,"  the  worst  that  then  as  now 
could  befall  any  male.  Edward's  father  was  disturbed,  his 
mother  secretly  delighted  at  the  thought  of  having  a  musician 
in  the  family.  It  worried  her  that  under  the  able  instruction  of 
Senor  Desvernine  as  of  Senor  Buitrago,  Eddie  was  not  as  at- 
tentive, as  patient,  or  as  skillful  as  she  would  have  wished  him. 
Teresa  offered  to  try  out  her  own  methods.  He  did  not,  she  dis- 
covered, have  naturally  good  coordination.  His  fingers,  if  will- 
ing, were  clumsy  and  stiff.  When  Teresa  was  at  the  end  of  her 
resources,  she  would  sit  down  at  the  piano  herself.  "Look  at 
me,  Eddie!  Do  it  the  way  I  do."  To  which  Eddie  conclusively 
protested,  "Yes,  but  that's  you,  not  me." 

Musically  imaginative  as  he  was,  there  were  times  when  he 


TERESA  CARRENO  123 

was,  like  most  normal  boys,  actually  lazy.  One  afternoon  the 
composition  in  question  was  Chopin's  "B  flat  minor  Scherzo." 
Teresa  herself  had  never  added  it  to  her  repertoire,  and  Edward 
to  her  distraction  was  dawdling  over  it.  The  time  had  come  to 
do  something  drastic.  "I  shall  make  a  bet  with  you,  Eddie,"  she 
suggested.  "Tonight,  I  promise  to  play  the  whole  Scherzo  for 
you  correctly  from  memory.  It  is  easy  enough.  If  I  have  not 
learned  it,  I  will  give  you  a  nice  present.  If  I  do  it  without  mis- 
takes— you  shall  give  me  a  kiss."  Eddie  curious  and  unafraid — 
it  could  not  be  done  in  a  few  hours — easily  agreed.  After  sup- 
per Teresa  reappeared  and  without  hesitation  played  the  piece 
from  beginning  to  end,  then  turned  around  for  Eddie's  ap- 
proval. But  he  had  vanished.  There  he  stood  on  the  landing! 
Teresa  followed  him  in  a  heated  chase,  which  she  at  least  thor- 
oughly enjoyed,  upstairs  and  down,  until  she  cornered  her 
victim,  breathless,  in  the  cellar.  She  managed  to  kiss  him 
soundly,  and  left  him  rubbing  off  the  indignity  with  his  hand- 
kerchief. "It  did  not,  however,  wipe  away  the  lesson,"  said 
Teresa. 


Teresa's  operatic  interlude  had  one  far-reaching  result.  She 
had  found  a  personable,  amusing,  and  warmhearted  colleague 
in  Giovanni  Tagliapietra.  They  appeared  together  in  the  Emma 
Abbott  troupe  at  the  Philadelphia  Centennial  in  1876  and  in- 
creasingly often  later  on.  He  sang  like  an  angel  and  was  as 
fun-loving  as  a  mischievous  child.  Teresa  loved  to  hear  him  tell 
how  he,  a  young  student  of  naval  architecture,  one  dark  night 
in  Italy  had  jumped  from  the  window  of  his  dormitory  to 
join  the  forces  of  Garibaldi  in  1866  and  had  followed  his  idol 
for  three  thrilling  years.  Teresa  believed  every  tale,  even  the 
wildest,  to  the  last  word.  Here  was  a  real  man,  her  equal  in 
temperament,  who  could  understand  her  better  than  that  cold- 
blooded fish  Sauret.  He  needed  no  protection — except  perhaps 
from  those  silly  girls  that  so  blatantly  adored  him — and  he  was 
strong  enough  to  care  for  her,  to  fight  her  battles.  Home  and 
such  a  husband!  What  more  could  she  ask  of  life? 

For  Tag  falling  in  love  was  as  undiscriminating  and  daily  a 
pastime  in  life  as  on  the  stage.  But  that  Teresa  failed  to  notice. 
When  he  brought  her  flowers,  sang  to  her  accompaniments, 
made  love  to  her,  nothing  else  existed. 

Once,  hidden  behind  a  huge  bouquet  of  roses,  he  met  her 
train  at  the  end  of  a  tour,  to  the  despair  of  young  Walter  Dam- 
rosch,  for  whose  interests — it  was  his  first  concert  experience  as 
accompanist — Teresa  had  appointed  herself  protector-in-chief. 
She  saw  to  it  that  the  number  of  rehearsals  granted  the  novice 
was  adequate.  She  even  on  occasion  took  his  place.  In  return  she 
earned  temporary  adoration  and  lasting  friendship. 

At  this  time  paradise  to  Teresa  seemed  nothing  more  far 
away  than  a  suburb  of  New  York  City.  Forgetting  her  lack  of 
judgment  in  the  choice  of  a  first  husband,  Teresa  unthinkingly 
surrendered  to  her  impulses  for  a  second  time.  In  short  order 
Teresa  and  Tag  were  established  together  in  a  small  house  of 
their  own  renting  in  New  Rochelle.  The  garden  extended  be- 
hind it  in  terraces  down  to  the  water  where  they  were  in  the 
habit  of  rowing,  and  for  Teresa  living  in  this  countrylike  place 


"5j 

•♦A 


<3 


oo 
oo 


TERESA  CARRENO  125 

came  close  to  the  ideal.  How  she  had  hated  living  alone!  To 
plan,  to  cook  for  two,  even  to  scrub  floors,  became  a  rite.  It 
made  home  more  dearly  hers.  Disguised  in  apron  and  turban 
she  sang  as  she  worked.  Sitting  proud  and  straight  in  her 
phaeton,  Billy  the  horse  prancing  before,  she  had  the  pleasure 
of  feeling  herself  noticed  and  envied,  as  she  drove  her  handsome 
husband  to  the  station  mornings,  or  called  for  him  at  night.  In 
the  evenings  people  stopped  before  the  open  windows  to  listen 
to  their  blended  music.  How  could  anyone  say  that  there  was 
no  such  thing  as  perfect  happiness !  Tag's  good  spirits  matched 
her  own,  his  devotion  seemed  to  leave  nothing  to  be  desired. 
This  was  living! 

There  had  as  yet  been  no  official  release  from  the  marriage 
ties  that  bound  Carreno  to  Sauret.  Teresa  was  undisturbed  by 
the  equivocal  situation  in  which  she  found  herself.  As  a  child 
she  had  often  felt  smothered  by  the  social  and  religious  conven- 
tions she  was  obliged  to  observe  overpunctiliously.  As  soon  as 
she  had  her  independence,  she  asserted  her  right  to  do  as  she 
chose,  to  be  accountable  to  herself  alone,  and  she  actively  re- 
sented whatever  interfered  with  this  right.  Not  that  she  was 
irreligious,  although  for  years  she  did  not  enter  a  church  except 
to  be  uplifted  by  its  architecture!  But  half  fatalist,  half  pagan, 
she  worshiped  a  God  whom  she  acknowledged  as  an  all- 
directing,  inescapable  father.  She  was  not  free  from  supersti- 
tions. It  was  a  good  precaution,  for  instance,  to  make  the  sign 
against  the  evil  eye  every  time  a  priest  approached.  With  better 
logic  she  disregarded  the  man-made  decrees  that  set  store  rather 
upon  the  letter  than  upon  the  spirit  of  matrimony.  Marriage  to 
her  was  nonetheless  sacred  because  it  lacked  the  sanction  of 
civil  and  religious  ceremony.  She  knew  that  she  meant  to  do 
her  part  to  make  the  relation  a  lasting  one.  Of  her  husband  she 
expected  no  less  than  of  herself.  A  common-law  marriage, 
which  was  at  this  time  legal  in  New  York  State,  seemed  to 
Teresa  as  dignified  as  any  other.  She  did  not  require  that  her 
conservative  friends  agree  with  her  and  took  little  notice  if  they 
did  not.  It  might  even  serve  a  purpose  in  showing  which  friends 


126  TERESA  CARRENO 

she  could  depend  upon  to  stand  the  test.  Among  these  were  the 
MacDowells.  Their  affection  was  not  deflected  by  an  interpre- 
tation of  marriage  that  could  not  but  shock  them.  As  for  Tag 
himself,  he  lived,  like  the  improvident  cricket,  in  the  present. 
What  was  marriage  to  him,  the  gambler  incarnate,  but  the 
greatest  lottery  of  all.  He  gladly  left  it  to  Teresa,  busy  as  any 
ant  with  homemaking,  to  plan  for  the  future. 

A  music  correspondent  remembers  a  concert  given  by  the 
pair  at  the  old  Park  Theater  at  Twenty-third  Street  and  Broad- 
way. It  was  in  the  early  days  of  their  companionship.  Teresa 
played  solos  and  did  not  consider  it  beneath  her  then  to  ac- 
company Tag's  songs.  The  eyes  of  all  the  men  were  for  the 
beautiful  Teresa,  of  all  the  girls  for  handsome  Tag.  His  col- 
leagues of  the  opera  began  by  being  amused  at  his  new  in- 
fatuation, then  became  amazed  that  it  apparently  was  going  to 
last.  Even  a  game  of  poker  or  his  favorite  bottle  could  not  keep 
him  from  catching  the  train  for  New  Rochelle  on  time.  Teresa 
and  Billy  would  not,  he  knew,  fail  to  meet  him.  And  later,  over 
a  steaming  plate  of  spaghetti  that  Teresa  learned  to  prepare  ac- 
cording to  perfect  Italian  tradition,  she  would  dramatize  for 
his  benefit  the  most  humdrum  details  of  the  day  that  was  clos- 
ing. 

Concerts  took  subordinate  place  for  Teresa  at  this  time.  Re- 
luctantly she  accepted  an  occasional  engagement.  The  most  im- 
portant one  of  the  year  1877  was  with  the  New  York  Philhar- 
monic Orchestra,  her  medium  being  Mendelssohn's  "G  minor 
Concerto."  This  was,  she  felt,  where  she  belonged.  Why  could 
not  she  too  be  allowed  to  play  only  good  music,  to  live  always 
up  to  her  best?  If  more  were  demanded  of  her,  she  felt  the 
power  within  her  of  rising  to  unexplored  heights.  Her  wings 
were  strong  to  carry  her  to  Andean  altitudes  of  unimagined 
splendor.  Was  there  in  the  world  no  audience  that  could  fol- 
low her,  urge  her  on?  Did  fate  mean  to  condemn  her  to  life 
at  second  best?  She  returned  to  the  accustomed  routine,  dis- 
contented with  the  artist  that  she  was,  unresigned  to  audiences 
as  she  found  them. 


TERESA  CARRENO  127 

Her  great  satisfaction  was  her  home,  before  all  when  on 
March  1,  1878,  she  became  the  guardian  of  a  new  life,  an- 
other daughter  providentially  sent  to  fill  the  emptiness  left  by 
the  sacrifice  she  had  made,  but  never  ceased  to  feel.  For  a  time 
the  duties  of  motherhood  and  housekeeping  completely  ab- 
sorbed her.  Not  until  the  end  of  the  year  would  she  consider  a 
longer  tour. 

Then  Mr.  Weber  offered  Tag  and  Teresa  together  a  journey 
with  Wilhelmy  the  violinist,  and  di  Murska  the  singer,  a  com- 
bination much  superior  to  the  usual  ones.  Early  January,  1879, 
found  the  troupe  in  Boston.  Together  Carreno  and  Wilhelmy 
played  the  "Kreutzer  Variations"  says  the  surfeited  Mr.  Dwight, 

as  if  possessed  by  one  spirit,  both  moved  by  a  higher  power  invisible. 
It  was  one  of  those  inspired  moments  which  now  and  then  occur  to 
relieve  the  tedium  of  too  many  concerts.  The  beautiful  pianist  whose 
face  and  movements  had  until  then  worn  an  expression  of  impa- 
tience and  almost  disgust  at  being  repeatedly  recalled  after  flashy 
virtuoso  pieces  (Gottschalks)  now  evidently  felt  at  home  and  happy 
in  good  music;  her  cooperation  was  perfect,  and  her  face  poetic  and 
inspired.  Why  cannot  artists  always  have  artistic  tasks  to  do? 

And  then  he  mentions  Signor  Tagliapietra  "one  of  the  most 
artistic  and  refined  of  baritones."  It  was  Carl  Zerrahn  who  con- 
ducted the  improvised  orchestra  in  the  Music  Hall  of  happy 
memory. 

The  tour  continued  with  the  pull  of  home  and  profession 
always  in  opposite  directions.  Besides,  a  disturbing  cloud 
threatened  storm.  Teresa  was  beginning  to  see  in  Tag  qualities 
that  she  had  not  in  her  trustfulness  investigated.  Carefree  and 
moneyfree  she  had  from  the  first  known  him  to  be.  On  that 
account  both  agreed  that  she  should  be  the  one  to  administer  the 
family  purse.  She  had  inherited  from  her  father  an  interest  in 
the  practical  side  of  life,  from  him  also  a  sense  of  pride  that 
admitted  of  being  in  debt  to  no  one.  Necessity  had  educated 
her  to  rigid  economy.  Tag's  income  and  hers  together  should 
have  sufficed  for  pleasant  living  on  a  modest  scale.  For  a  time 


128  TERESA  CARRENO 

Tag  entered  into  this  planning  as  into  a  new  game.  Then  his 
extravagant  instincts,  his  love  of  taking  a  chance,  came  to  the 
front.  Gradually  Teresa  realized  that  she  must  not  count  upon 
her  husband's  earnings.  Over  the  poker  table  they  might  vanish 
in  a  night.  More  and  more  often  Billy  trotted  disconsolately 
back  from  the  station  with  one  disappointed  passenger.  Subjects 
of  disagreement  became  frequent,  and  led  to  scenes  in  which 
amiability  changed  to  violence  on  the  instant.  The  explosion  of 
two  high-pressure  temperaments  in  conflict  were  audible  out- 
side. It  was  spare,  white-haired  Hughsie,  the  real  treasure  of  a 
factotum,  who  discreetly  closed  the  windows.  Tag  jealous  and 
bored  by  turns  sought  for  more  peaceable  companionship 
among  his  all-too-willing  friends  of  both  sexes,  then  sheepishly 
returned  to  the  uncertain  weather  of  a  fireside  he  still  needed 
and  periodically  cherished.  When  the  two  appeared  in  public 
together  the  frank  admiration  accorded  to  his  wife  became  irk- 
some to  Tag,  and  Teresa  purposely  did  nothing  to  calm  his 
jealousy.  It  did  not  occur  to  her  to  leave  him.  He  was  still  in  his 
contrite,  appeasing  moments  dear  to  her.  Above  all  he  was  the 
father  of  little  Lulu.  For  her  sake  this  marriage  must  be  made 
to  last.  But  if  Teresa  had  to  pay  the  bills  she  meant  to  hold  the 
reins  of  the  household.  There  was  no  meekness  in  her  makeup. 
She  disliked  this  trait  in  others,  as  much  as  stupidity,  with 
which  in  servants  or  in  students  she  had  no  patience  whatso- 
ever. 

Of  the  latter  she  had  a  number  whom  she  taught  more  or 
less  as  she  felt  inclined.  They  served  in  giving  ear  to  her  trou- 
bles, and  when  they  were  too  unyielding  to  her  erratic  methods 
of  instruction,  she  would,  instead  of  correcting  their  mistakes, 
play  for  them  herself  by  the  hour.  Her  own  practicing  at  this 
time  was  desultory.  After  a  passage  had  misfired  in  public  a 
number  of  times  she  might  spend  a  tearful  morning  ironing 
out  the  difficulty.  Her  standing  repertoire  sufficed  to  fill  the 
needs  of  a  country  at  the  very  bottom  level  of  musical  taste. 

At  the  insistent  prodding  of  Teresa  young  Edward  Mac- 
Dowell  in  the  interim  had  been  taken  by  his  mother  to  study 


TERESA  CARRENO  129 

music  in  Paris.  His  unabated  confidence  in  Teresa's  artistic  judg- 
ment led  him  to  send  her  a  bundle  of  his  early  compositions  in 
manuscript,  among  them  his  first  "Suite,"  "Erzahlung,"  and 
"Barcarolle."  In  an  accompanying  letter  he  asked  her  to  ex- 
amine them.  If  she  approved,  he  promised  to  increase  his  ef- 
forts; otherwise,  should  she  find  them  worthless,  he  begged 
her,  with  characteristic  self-depreciation,  to  destroy  them.  He 
would  then  write  no  more.  Teresa  at  once  replied  from  the 
equally  characteristic  fullness  of  her  enthusiasm,  urging  him  to 
continue  at  full  steam  and  above  all  to  consign  not  a  scrap  to 
the  wastebasket.  She  made  up  her  mind  then  and  there  that 
her  fingers  and  no  others  should  be  first  to  introduce  Edward 
MacDowell  to  the  public.  America  may  well  be  grateful  to 
Teresa  Carreno  for  her  enlightened  encouragement  of  Edward 
MacDowell's  gift,  and  for  her  propaganda  in  the  face  of  ob- 
stacles presented  by  audiences  that  were  as  unreceptive  as  they 
were  unprepared.  It  is  to  her  unselfish  efforts  that  MacDowell's 
early  popularity  was  in  great  measure  due. 

Touring  the  United  States  and  Canada  in  the  Seventies  and 
Eighties  must  have  been  a  doubtful  pleasure  for  one  who 
looked  upon  music  as  an  art.  The  companies  were  carelessly 
thrown  together  and  ill-assorted,  often  a  fading  stellar  magni- 
tude giving  its  name  to  a  group  of  lesser  satellites.  The  pro- 
grams were  a  jumble  of  light  music  for  the  many,  and  more 
classical  music  for  the  few,  making  up  in  length  for  what  they 
lacked  in  depth.  They  followed  Goethe's  dictum:  "He  who 
brings  much,  will  bring  something  to  each."  Concerts  were 
listed  with  circuses  and  prize  fights  under  the  heading  of 
"amusements,"  and  were  criticized  rather  for  the  personal  ap- 
peal of  the  performer,  for  mannerisms,  for  accidents  in  the  per- 
formance, than  for  the  quality  inherent  in  the  music.  Fifty  cents 
was  considered  a  high  price  to  pay  for  a  ticket  of  admission.  Ac- 
commodations in  small  towns  were  meager,  trains  unreliable  and 
uncomfortable,  meals  irregular  and  poor,  and  audiences  dis- 
heartening. People  came  and  went,  conversed  or  slept  at  pleas- 


130  TERESA  CARRENO 

ure  during  the  concerts.  At  the  opening  of  the  Queen's  Hall, 
Montreal,  in  January,  1880,  says  the  Montreal  Star:  "Carrefio 
played  at  a  disadvantage,  coming  direcdy  from  the  train,"  and 
goes  on  to  say:  "It  seems  to  us  that  a  great  deal  of  unnecessary 
fuss  was  shown  in  the  frequent  moving  of  the  piano  by  three 
men."  Later  in  the  year,  in  the  same  city,  the  Gazette  passes 
favorably  upon  the  new  departure  of  keeping  doors  closed  dur- 
ing the  performance.  "The  length  of  the  programme  and  the 
demand  for  encores  made  the  concert  longer  than  usual,  not 
more  than  half  the  audience  being  present  at  the  conclusion." 

Chicago,  where  Teresa  found  genuine  stimulus,  had  a  fore- 
sighted  critic,  who  remarked,  "Carrefio  had  so  much  improved 
of  late  that  one  would  scarcely  recognize  the  passionate  but 
somewhat  reckless  pianiste  of  days  gone  by.  Certainly  the  fire 
of  genuine  ambition  has  touched  her  gift  of  genius,  and  she 
now  adds  to  her  talent  a  scholarly  thought  and  method  which 
will  undoubtedly  send  her  to  the  front  of  the  first  rank  of 
pianists."  That  would  not  have  been  noticed  in  the  small  town 
of  Ilion,  New  York,  where  Teresa's  co-artist  was  Mr.  Archi- 
bald Forbes  of  London,  famous  English  correspondent,  who 
lectured,  framed  by  Carreno's  solos,  on  "Royal  people  I  have 
met."  It  must  have  been  a  genuine  relief  to  return  to  more  usual 
colleagues  such  as  Remenyi  the  violinist,  and  Kate  Thayer,  the 
singer,  with  whom  she  toured  in  the  South. 

January,  188 1,  saw  Teresa  in  Baltimore,  contributing  a  group 
of  Norwegian  scenes  of  folk  life  by  Grieg  to  a  program  devoted 
to  Russian  and  Norse  music.  February  took  her  from  Montreal, 
where  she  shared  the  honors  with  her  husband,  to  Chicago  and 
southward  to  Knoxville. 

Here  under  the  name  of  the  Carrefio  Concert  Company  a 
new  procedure  was  followed.  One  half  of  the  evening  was  de- 
voted to  the  usual  concert  program,  the  second  to  opera  in  con- 
cert form.  All  began  well.  "Madame  was  led  to  her  seat,  her 
pretty  face  wreathed  in  smiles."  Next  it  was  Tag's  turn.  He 
sang  a  few  bars,  then  stopped.  "I  am  ill,  very  ill,"  he  explained 
and  left  the  stage.  Somewhat  later  he  reappeared,  apparently 


TERESA  CARRENO  131 

quite  restored,  to  sing  the  part  of  the  Count  de  Luna  to  Teresa's 
Leonore  in  //  Trovatore.  Her  encore  was  "Home  Sweet  Home." 
She  must  have  sung  it  with  fervor.  On  the  following  Monday 
selections  from  La  Favorita,  Marta,  and  Faust  divided  honors 
with  the  piano  in  the  "Waltz"  from  Faust,  "La  Campanella,"  and 
"The  Last  Rose  of  Summer."  Speaking  of  Teresa  as  a  singer  the 
Knoxville  paper  effervesces:  "Carreno  rose  to  the  height  of  a 
musical  medium,  and  carried  her  audience  into  the  spell  of 
opera's  profundity  without  the  aid  of  English  words."  And 
Signor  Tagliapietra's  voice  was  pronounced  "the  finest  in  all  re- 
spects on  this  side  of  the  Atlantic." 

After  a  concert  in  Philadelphia  on  April  27,  188 1,  in  which 
Teresa  accompanied  the  "Double  Concerto"  of  Bach  for  the  two 
Gartners,  father  and  son,  both  violinists,  there  is  suddenly  a 
hiatus.  No  more  mention  of  concerts.  Lulu,  the  one  who  mat- 
tered most  in  her  affections,  fell  ill.  The  best  available  doctors 
did  what  they  could.  On  the  sixteenth  of  May,  188 1,  a  little  over 
three  years  old,  she  died.  Teresa  was  crushed.  Tag  too  loved  his 
child,  precociously  intelligent  for  her  years.  Temporarily  grief 
brought  the  two  parents  once  more  closely  together. 

Fanny  MacDowell  was  a  very  practical  consolation,  and 
Teresa  also  found  relief  in  the  friendship  of  one  of  her  pupils, 
a  Southern  girl  of  eighteen,  Caroline  Keating  by  name.  When 
Teresa  found  herself  attacked  by  gloom,  it  was  Carrie  to  whom 
she  telephoned  to  make  an  appointment  for  theater  or  vaude- 
ville. Afterwards,  her  spirits  restored,  she  would  review  the 
whole  performance  in  caricature,  leaving  Carrie  convulsed  with 
laughter.  Not  only  their  likes  were  similar.  According  to  Bri- 
gnoli  they  actually  looked  like  sisters. 

In  September,  188 1,  after  a  summer  engagement  at  Manhat- 
tan Beach  a  new  group  formed,  which  called  itself  the  Carreno- 
Donaldi  Operatic  Gem  Company.  It  included  Mme.  Teresa 
Carreno,  the  greatest  living  Lady  Pianiste — Mr.  Dwight  would 
not  have  agreed.  His  list  of  the  three  greatest  so-called  "petti- 
coat pianists"  comprised  Sophie  Menter,  Clara  Schumann,  and 
Arabella  Goddard — Mme.  Emma  Donaldi,  grand  Italian  prima 


132  TERESA  CARRENO 

donna,  Signor  Ferranti,  King  of  Buffos,  also  Signor  Stantini,  a 
tenor,  for  whom  nobody  seemed  to  have  a  kind  word.  By  com- 
mon consent  Mme.  Carreno  was  declared  to  be  "strong  enough 
to  carry  the  whole  party."  Signor  Ferranti's  time  for  being 
funny  had  evidently  forever  passed.  Yet  his  sunny  Italian  good 
humor  won  him  friends  in  spite  of  it.  Mme.  Donaldi  had  lost 
whatever  public  appeal  she  once  possessed.  When  her  criticisms 
became  too  painfully  bad,  she  withdrew  on  the  plea  of  illness 
which  did  not  fool  the  reviewers.  Buffalo  was  one  of  the  places 
in  which  she  defaulted,  and  on  short  notice  a  duet  between 
Carreno  and  Stantini  was  substituted.  At  this  time  Teresa's 
singing  earned  so  much  commendation  that  it  became  a  regular 
part  of  the  programs. 

In  Chicago  Teresa  was  from  the  first  a  favorite.  Nowhere  was 
she  more  appreciated.  This  was  due  in  no  small  part  to  the  in- 
sight of  the  best  and  most  discriminating  of  all  her  friends,  Mrs. 
Regina  Watson.  First  of  all  Mrs.  Watson  was  a  thorough  musi- 
cian, a  good  pianist,  to  whom  matrimonial  happiness  chanced 
to  mean  more  than  a  concert  career.  At  her  home  in  East  In- 
diana Street  she  had  established  a  school  for  the  "Higher  Art 
of  Piano  Playing."  Chicago  society  gave  her  its  friendship  and 
sent  her  its  most  gifted  children.  She  became  a  strong  influence 
in  many  single  lives,  and  in  the  musical  development  of  Chi- 
cago she  was  a  driving  force  for  good. 

Teresa  and  "Ginka,"  as  her  intimates  called  her,  were  drawn 
together  by  their  likemindedness.  They  respected  and  admired 
each  other.  Teresa  as  a  performer  was  the  impersonation  of 
Ginka's  ideals.  Her  vitality,  her  power,  her  directness  as  an 
artist  and  as  a  human  being  alike  found  echo  within  her.  So 
she  would  have  dreamed  of  playing  herself.  To  Teresa  Ginka 
was  the  embodiment  of  frank  friendship  and  of  honest  devo- 
tion to  a  calling.  She  was  not  blind  to  the  faults  of  Teresa's  im- 
pulsive nature,  nor  slow  in  confronting  her  with  them,  when 
she  was  in  danger  of  making  a  major  mistake.  Besides,  Ginka 
had  achieved  that  in  which  she  had  herself  failed,  the  combina- 


TERESA  CARRENO  133 

tion  of  a  successful  profession  and  equally  successful  home  life. 
With  Ginka  and  Lewis,  her  husband,  Teresa  found  her  intel- 
lectual and  spiritual  level — both  Dr.  and  Mrs.  Watson  held 
dominating  positions  in  their  respective  fields  of  medicine  and 
music — found  sane  counsel,  and  the  peace  of  well-being  in  a 
household  that  ran  smoothly  yet  without  ostentation.  So  Teresa 
would  have  dreamed  her  own  home.  As  long  as  they  lived 
there  was  never  a  serious  misunderstanding  between  them.  To 
Mrs.  Watson's  lasting  credit  be  it  said  that  she  was  the  one  who 
paved  the  way  that  finally  was  to  release  Teresa  from  the  de- 
pressing routine  of  the  concert  player  on  tour  in  the  United  States 
of  the  Eighties.  For  the  time  being,  however,  it  continued  in  its 
dull  and  devious  ways. 

Electric  light  had  been  newly  installed  in  the  Chicago  ware- 
rooms  of  Weber  and  Company.  To  celebrate  the  occasion  Te- 
resa on  February  2  played  Schumann's  "Symphonische  Etuden," 
and  the  "Staccato  fitude"  by  Rubinstein,  also  his  "Waltz  in  A." 
"Where  is  Donaldi?"  asks  the  critic.  The  week  before  she  had 
claimed  to  be  ill,  and  now  suddenly  she  had  departed  for  New 
York.  Her  absence  was  more  mystifying  than  deplorable.  The 
tour  went  on  very  well  without  her.  Saint  Paul  gave  the  group 
only  a  small  audience  on  February  13,  1882.  A  paper  found  it 
pertinent  to  compare  Mme.  Rive-King  and  Carreno,  because 
in  close  succession  they  played  the  same  piano  and  some  of  the 
same  works  there.  "Carreno  is  the  greater  genius,  Rive-King 
the  better  artist.  Carreno  enters  with  a  quick,  girlish  step.  The 
manager  had  to  adjust  Rive-King's  chair.  Carreno  adjusted  hers 
herself,  even  moving  the  immense  Weber  Grand  into  position 
as  easily  as  if  it  were  a  chair."  Teresa  and  Ferranti  sang  to- 
gether in  a  duet  representing  a  night  patrol. 

In  Des  Moines  a  hot  local  political  fight  and  a  competing  lec- 
ture were  enough  to  reduce  the  size  of  the  audience  to  a  mini- 
mum. The  Burlington  Haw\-eye  admits  that  Burlington  is  not 
generally  enthusiastic  over  piano  playing,  "and  when  it  recalls 
a  pianist  twice  in  an  evening  there  must  be  reason  for  this 
extraordinary  behavior."   It  endows   Carreiio's  playing  with 


134  TERESA  CARRENO 

Wieck's  drei  Kleinigkeiten:  i.  das  Zarteste  Gehor.  2.  der  feinste 
Geschmac\.  3.  das  tiefste  GefiihL  In  Joliet  a  new  music  critic 
devotes  his  first  effort  to  Carreno  thus: 

"The  celebration  opened  on  time  with  a  measly  small  audience"  and 
"a  very  pert  looking  damsel  with  snappy  black  eyes,  round  features, 
chubby  lips,  a  carefully  chiseled  nose,  a  No.  2  shoe,  weighing  185 
pounds,  was  led  out  by  the  accompanist.  She  sat  down  at  the  piano, 
and  immediately  picked  a  quarrel  with  it.  She  kept  it  up  until  the 
umpire  decided  the  battle  a  draw.  .  .  . 

June,  1882,  brought  Tag  and  Teresa  together  again  for  a  con- 
cert in  Oil  City,  Pennsylvania. 

A  series  of  appearances  by  the  Carreno  Concert  Company  at 
Narragansett  Pier  in  the  hall  of  the  Mathewson  House  was 
something  of  a  vacation.  It  was  noted  that  "during  the  stay  at 
the  hotel  the  elegant  manners  and  excellent  English  of  Mme. 
Carreno  and  her  husband  Tagliapietra  have  won  them  many 
delightful  friends."  One  of  these  was  Colonel  Sidam  of  New 
York.  While  Teresa  was  resting  on  the  piazza  one  evening 
after  a  concert,  he  introduced  himself  as  the  one  who  had  pre- 
sented the  little  Teresita  with  her  famous  crying  doll  at  her 
Irving  Hall  debut. 

Teresa  looked  back  upon  the  season  just  ended.  Outwardly  it 
had  been  successful  enough,  but  inwardly  discouraging.  Was 
this  the  best  of  which  she  was  capable?  "In  Germany,"  Mrs. 
Watson  had  said,  "people  comprehend  music  in  all  its  dignity. 
There  you  must  go  to  be  understood.  There  you  will  learn  what 
music  can  really  mean  to  an  audience,  and  it  will  inspire  you 
to  explore  its  depths."  In  America  the  appeal  of  the  "greatest 
lady  pianist"  and  the  "greatest  lady  lion-tamer',  were  not  essen- 
tially different  in  kind.  But  how  could  she  earn  the  money  to 
go  ?  What  would  become  of  Tag  ? 

In  September,  1882,  another  tour  with  Lizzie  Arbuckle  and 
the  Weber  Male  Quartette  took  her  again  to  Chicago  to  play 
for  the  benefit  of  the  Norfolk  Light  Artillery  Blues  Armory 


TERESA  CARRENO  135 

Fund.  Here  she  saw  her  old  friend  Maurice  Strakosch  who 
graced  the  concert  in  the  role  of  accompanist.  Everywhere 
Teresa  reaped  the  laurels.  Miss  Arbuckle  failed  to  please,  and 
the  Weber  quartette  in  its  a  capella  singing  would  have  been 
more  effective  with  an  accompanist  to  hold  them  to  pitch. 

Breaking  off  her  tour  just  a  month  before  giving  birth  to  an- 
other daughter,  Teresa  faced  everything  but  the  peace  she 
needed  at  home.  Tag  was  becoming  more  and  more  objection- 
able. If  he  came  home  at  all  at  night  it  was  sure  to  be  in  the 
worst  of  humors.  Drink,  he  knew,  was  beginning  to  affect  his 
singing.  Of  late  he  was  meriting  the  reputation  of  being  vocally 
unreliable,  so  that  some  of  the  choice  engagements  went  to 
others.  That  his  wife's  popularity  was  on  the  upgrade  helped  to 
aggravate  the  situation.  Tag  was  not  one  to  tolerate  shining  by 
reflection  or  having  his  demands  for  money  refused.  The  at- 
mosphere at  home  was  electrically  charged.  Scenes  multiplied 
in  frequency  and  violence  until  Teresa  grew  to  fear  her  hus- 
band's return  more  than  she  had  before  worried  over  his  ab- 
sence. She  could  not  shut  her  eyes  to  the  fact  that  she  was  no 
longer  first  lady  to  Tag.  His  philanderings  were  open  scandal. 
The  climax  came  one  night  in  December.  After  an  unusually 
heated  altercation  Tag  entered  the  living  room,  and  drawing 
out  a  sharp  knife  in  perfect  Sparafucilean  manner,  slowly  rolled 
up  his  sleeve.  In  a  voice  that  would  have  given  any  opera  audi- 
ence "zero  at  the  bone"  he  hissed:  "I  am  going  to  kill  you." 
Ordinarily  Teresa  would  have  trusted  to  the  cowardice  always 
inherent  in  generous  measure  in  all  of  Tag's  accesses  of  brutal- 
ity. This  time  she  had  double  reason  to  be  afraid  and  stood 
petrified,  unable  to  move  or  cry  out,  certain  that  today  he 
meant  to  put  an  end  to  her  and  to  the  child  soon  to  be  born. 
Tag,  accustomed  to  act  murder  without  actually  committing 
it,  was  satisfied  with  the  effect  he  had  produced.  Was  he  not 
still  a  great  artist  to  be  able  after  all  these  years  to  fool  his  own 
wife  ?  He  slammed  the  front  door  exhilarated  by  his  triumph. 


136  TERESA  CARRENO 

As  each  chug  of  the  train  drew  him  closer  and  closer  to  his 
companions  of  the  poker  table,  he  felt  sure  that  luck  would  be 
with  him  that  night. 

Under  such  auspices  a  dark-eyed  little  girl  was  born  to 
Teresa  on  Christmas  Eve,  1882.  Tag,  in  one  of  his  rebounding 
moments  of  devotion  and  tenderness,  insisted  that  she  be  called 
Teresita.  A  beautiful,  delicate,  oversensitive  child  she  became, 
but  as  she  outgrew  babyhood  there  was  one  habit  of  which 
she  could  not  be  cured  by  ridicule  or  punishment.  Invariably 
she  insisted  on  rolling  up  her  sleeves,  a  gesture  which  her 
mother  could  never  see  without  a  reminiscent  shiver. 

The  year  1883  was  to  bring  Teresa  somewhat  greater  satis- 
faction. Late  in  January  she  was  again  on  tour  playing  concerts 
arranged  and  conducted  by  Mr.  Heimendahl,  a  versatile  and 
painstaking  musician  of  Chicago,  whose  too  meticulous  earnest- 
ness kept  him  from  reaching  to  the  hearts  of  his  less  particular 
listeners,  as  well  as  to  the  heart  of  the  excellent  music  he  played. 
He  did  notwithstanding  help  to  raise  the  standard  of  program 
building  considerably.  To  be  asked  to  play  as  visiting  artist  with 
his  orchestra  meant  recognition  as  an  artist  of  worth.  The 
Inter-Ocean  took  pains  to  commend  Teresa's  "pretty  preludes 
and  interludes,"  and  called  her  "the  most  finished  interpreter  of 
Chopin  in  the  world."  But  the  Times  struck  a  jangling  note, 
complaining:  "One  could  only  regret  that  her  eye  for  harmony 
of  colors  in  dress  does  not  seem  to  equal  her  ear  for  harmony  of 
sound." 

Less  flattering,  but  too  remunerative  to  be  refused,  was  the 
invitation  of  Rudolph  Aronson  that  Teresa  take  part  in  the 
concerts  of  the  Casino  of  New  York  City.  Her  reappearance  on 
the  concert  platforms  of  this  metropolis  under  such  auspices 
after  an  absence  of  over  a  year  was  not  likely  to  increase  her 
prestige  as  an  artist.  She  would  have  preferred  being  heard 
under  the  baton  of  Theodore  Thomas,  whose  neglect  to  engage 
her  was  a  puzzle  and  a  worry.  But  she  needed  the  money  and, 
whatever  the  setting,  never  refused  an  opportunity  to  play  with 
orchestra.  Especially  just  now  she  was  eager  to  test  before  the 


TERESA  CARRENO  137 

public  a  concerto  she  had  added  to  her  repertoire,  one  that 
suited  her  entirely,  that  of  a  modern  Norwegian  called  Grieg. 
Her  disappointment  was  great  when  this  had  to  be  abandoned 
on  account  of  insufficient  time  for  rehearsal.  Had  she  dreamed 
that  one  day  Grieg  himself  would  hear  her  and  approve  his 
work  under  her  fingers,  she  might  have  been  less  impatient 
with  this  mischance.  Meanwhile  there  were  signs  of  better 
things  in  store. 

Really  challenging  artistically  was  the  offer  of  a  long  tour 
with  Leopold  Damrosch  and  his  orchestra  in  the  spring  of 
1883.  After  all,  it  was  good  that  the  Grieg  Concerto  had  been 
saved  for  this,  and  Teresa  at  once  set  about  refurbishing  all  the 
other  orchestral  works  in  her  experience.  Next  to  Theodore 
Thomas  there  was  no  conductor  more  to  be  respected  as  man 
and  musician  than  Leopold  Damrosch.  From  the  first  he  and 
Teresa  understood  each  other  well,  meeting  on  the  common 
ground  of  reverence  for  the  best  in  music.  The  Damrosch  con- 
certs remained  among  the  happy  memories  of  these  shadowed 
years. 

A  much-quoted  incident  occurred  on  this  tour.  It  was  no 
secret  that  Leopold  Damrosch  had  not  a  kind  thought  for 
women  composers.  Teresa,  too,  was  well  aware  of  the  fact,  it 
being  understood  that  nothing  of  her  own  might  appear  on  his 
programs.  One  day  in  a  city  of  the  Middle  West  they  were  try- 
ing out  pianos  for  a  concert.  In  answer  to  a  request  that  she 
play  something  Teresa  began  with  a  stern,  marchlike  melody 
accompanied  by  massive  chords.  "That's  a  good  piece.  Who 
wrote  it?"  inquired  the  maestro.  Using  the  gesture  she  had 
once  so  effectively  copied  from  Rubinstein,  Teresa  pointed  at 
herself,  eloquently  saying  nothing.  This  happened  to  be  the 
"Hymn  to  Bolivar"  that  the  Venezuelan  Government  had 
asked  her  to  set  to  music  for  his  centennial,  the  performance  of 
which  did  not  however,  for  an  unknown  reason,  take  place 
at  the  intended  time. 

It  was  probably  in  New  Haven  on  the  platform  of  Carll's 


138  TERESA  CARRENO 

Opera  House  that  Teresa  actually  first  played  the  Grieg  Con- 
certo, and,  being  new,  it  met  with  varying  degrees  of  favor. 
All  agreed  that  it  was  well  performed.  Concerts  followed  each 
other  in  close  succession  throughout  the  East,  sometimes  at  the 
rate  of  two  a  day.  In  Springfield  the  stage  was  too  small  to  al- 
low the  instruments,  uncomfortably  huddled  together,  to  play 
freely,  so  that  the  quick  last  movement  suffered  in  consequence, 
but  "the  performance  of  Mme.  Carreno  showed  the  same  mar- 
vellous memory  and  justified  confidence  that  are  her  traits.  It 
was  a  great  task  to  play  the  Grieg  'Concerto'  as  she  did  with- 
out notes,  and  with  such  power,  spirit,  and  proportion  as  to 
lead  without  disparting  the  piano  from  the  orchestra."  "She  is 
a  remarkable  performer  and  ought  to  be  a  great  artist,"  says  a 
discerning  voice  that  felt  in  Teresa's  playing  greater  potentiality 
even  than  present  achievement.  Not  so  right-minded  is  the 
judgment  of  another  critic  of  Providence,  Rhode  Island.  Speak- 
ing again  of  the  Grieg  "Concerto"  he  grants  that  "Mme.  Teresa 
Carreno  exhibited  an  easy  grace  and  massive  strength  as  a 
pianist  quite  phenomenal,  and  a  more  attractive  piece  would 
have  made  them  better  appreciated  by  the  audience." 

Sandwiched  in  between  the  concerts  of  the  Damrosch  tour, 
Teresa  appeared  with  Brignoli,  Scalchi,  and  others  in  a  mixed 
operatic  concert  which  took  place  under  Arditi's  leadership  in 
the  Academy  of  Music  of  New  York.  In  retrospect  Teresa  be- 
came once  more  the  little  Teresita  of  those  first  years  in  Eng- 
land. On  the  part  of  the  reporters  there  was  dissatisfaction  be- 
cause the  printed  program  was  not  adhered  to  and  the  cornetist 
had  defaulted  at  the  last  moment.  In  Montreal  Teresa,  already 
an  old  friend  of  musicians  in  that  city,  appeared  as  co-soloist 
with  Mme.  Albani,  sharing  honors  with  that  diva. 

"She  is,"  says  a  journalist,  "the  only  pianist  who  comes  to 
Montreal  two  or  three  times  a  year,"  and  it  concludes  in  words 
too  pertinent  and  musical  to  bear  translation:  "Elle  ne  cherche 
son  succes  que  dans  son  intelligence,  son  cceur  et  son  travail, 
Elle  aime  et  respecte  son  art  par-dessus  tout." 

The  acclaim  accorded  Damrosch  in  other  cities  the  conductor 


TERESA  CARRENO  139 

did  not  succeed  in  harvesting  in  Chicago.  The  Tribune  re- 
marks, "lack  of  snap,  superabundance  of  sentiment  on  the  part 
of  the  leader,  shown  in  dragging  tempi,"  although  he  was 
obliged  to  admit  that  his  readings  were,  if  not  always  interest- 
ing, at  least  always  accurate.  Teresa  in  her  own  right  received 
a  royal  welcome,  but  the  Herald  deplores  "a  tendency  of  the 
orchestra  to  keep  one  note  behind"  in  the  Grieg  concerto. 

The  Damrosch  group  halted  in  Denver  for  a  number  of  con- 
certs, for  which  Teresa  took  time  to  prepare  the  Weber  "Kon- 
zertstiick."  To  the  irritation  of  the  veteran  Damrosch  the  Den- 
ver audience  was  out  of  tune  with  the  strictly  classical  types  of 
program  offered  it,  and,  except  for  a  constantly  decreasing 
minority,  preferred  to  stay  at  home.  This  called  forth  an  an- 
nouncement in  one  of  the  more  capricious  columns  of  a  Den- 
ver paper.  It  was  ironically  conceived  by  a  musician  much  dis- 
turbed by  the  artistically  negative  attitude  of  this  city.  It  reads : 

It  is  not  hard  to  guess  why  the  Damrosch  season  in  Denver  has  not 
been  a  financial  success.  Our  public  is  fond  of  the  higher  style  of 
music,  and  is  ill-satisfied  with  everything  short  of  it.  Beethoven  and 
Chopin  and  Wagner  and  Liszt  are  good  enough  in  their  way,  but 
every  school-girl  in  Denver  plays  Beethoven  and  Chopin  and  Wagner 
and  Liszt,  and  our  people  did  not  care  to  hear  all  the  familiar  sym- 
phonies and  Etudes  and  Sonates  thumbed  over  again.  If  Mr.  Dam- 
rosch had  announced  an  opus  from  "Brittle  Silver"  the  Denver  public 
would  have  thronged  to  hear  it — were  it  in  C  minor  and  H  major. 
The  truth  is  that,  having  been  educated  up  to  the  "Brittle  Silver" 
standard,  our  Denver  folks  are  chary  of  descending  to  the  level  of 
Beethoven  and  the  other  seed-bread  and  Lager-beer  fellows. 

The  article  continues : 

According  to  the  general  wish  Damrosch  gives  a  popular  program: 
Golden  Robin  Polka        Smith 
Overture  "Brittle  Silver"        Wood 
Old  Folks  at  Home        Mile.  Martinez 
Grand  March  "Mulligan  Guards"        Braham 
Overture  Pirates  of  Pensance        Sullivan 
Symphonic  Poem  "Shells  of  the  Ocean"        Jones 


140  TERESA  CARRENO 

II  Baccio  (with  oboe  obbligato)  Anon. 

Potpourris  of  National  Airs        Gilmore 

Maiden's  Prayer        Anon. 

Mocking  Bird  with  variations        }.  Brown 
Mme.  Carreno 

Inasmuch  as  the  music  will  be  of  a  light  and  lively  character  ladies 
must  not  hesitate  to  bring  their  children,  who  will  be  admitted  at 
the  usual  price. 

Damrosch  left  Denver  with  a  light  purse.  What  audience 
there  was  Mile.  Martinez  and  Teresa  took  by  storm.  She  was 
declared  an  artist  for  the  people,  before  all  in  Liszt's  "Hungar- 
ian Fantasia,"  also  a  recent  addition.  The  Middle  West  had 
proved  to  be  unfertile  ground  for  music  of  this  kind.  In  Kansas 
City,  on  the  way  back  to  more  productive  fields  of  effort,  empty 
seats  stared  at  empty  seats,  and  the  scattered  applause  awoke 
echoes.  Indignantly  the  Journal  cries  out:  "Thus  we  receive  the 
great  leader;  thus  we  welcome  Carreno,  grand  interpreter  of 
symphonies  and  tender  harmonies.  Shall  we  ever  wipe  out 
from  our  escutcheon  so  heinous  a  stain?"  It  speaks  of  Teresa's 
power,  coming  from  the  very  shoulder,  of  the  slight  backward 
inclination  of  the  head,  of  the  fervor  in  her  eyes,  and,  like  so 
many  others,  the  critic  compares  her  favorably  with  that  other 
popular  pianist,  Rive-King,  who  in  a  recent  concert  had  also 
played  the  "Hungarian  Fantasia"  in  Kansas  City.  Teresa  was 
glad  to  return  again  to  familiar  New  York  and,  exhausted  as 
she  was,  she  rounded  ofT  the  season  with  another  Casino  Con- 
cert, mediocre  in  every  respect  save  in  Teresa's  solos. 

Rather  earlier  than  customary  in  the  fall  of  1883,  Carreno  en- 
tered upon  a  round  of  concerts  beginning  in  Toronto.  The  hall 
was  not  filled  in  spite  of  the  fact  that  the  vice-regal  party 
honored  the  event  with  its  presence  in  all  formality,  disregard- 
ing the  weather  which  kept  those  of  lesser  degree  away.  As 
the  Marquis  of  Lome  and  Princess  Louise  made  their  en- 
trance under  guard  of  the  Queen's  Own  Rifles,  who  took  their 
seats  around  the  royal  box,  the  band  of  Royal  Engineers  broke 


TERESA  CARRENO  141 

stirringly  into  the  national  anthem.  Brignoli  sang  his  deepest, 
Josef  Adamowski  played  the  violin,  very  much  unnerved  be- 
cause the  dampness  caused  two  strings  to  break  during  his  part 
of  the  performance,  and  Teresa  carried  off  the  honors. 

After  this  she  joined  Clara  Louise  Kellogg,  the  singer,  and  a 
numerous  sustaining  company  on  a  westward-faring  journey. 
From  Rochester  to  Kansas  City  critics  agreed  that  Miss  Kellogg, 
no  longer  in  her  most  effective  years,  had  grown  large,  very 
large,  that  her  toilettes  were  superb,  her  jewelry  breath-taking 
to  the  ladies.  But  Chicago  finds  that  "even  if  her  voice  is  re- 
juvenated— which  is  a  matter  of  doubt — her  manners  are  pos- 
sibly a  thought  worse  than  they  used  to  be.  She  howled  roulades 
in  the  ante-room,  and  guyed  the  other  performers  so  vigorously 
as  to  be  heard  in  all  parts  of  the  auditorium.  Her  voice  was 
never  pure  nor  refined.  It  is  less  so  than  ever."  Besides,  she  was 
accused  of  more  often  singing  below  or  above  than  on  pitch. 
Audiences  in  the  Middle  West  received  her  warmly  as  a  friend 
of  many  years'  standing.  They  liked  her,  rough  and  good- 
natured  as  she  was,  wept  over  her  touching  ballads,  and  gaped 
with  amazement  at  her  famous  trill,  her  scale  so  free  of  the 
Gerster slide.  Not  so  most  of  the  critics.  One  caustic  gentleman 
of  Kansas  City  remarks  that  "she  had  taken  the  Times'  advice, 
and  had  this  time  brought  her  voice  with  her."  With  the 
equally  even-tempered  Ferranti  critics  dealt  more  harshly  yet. 
The  Detroit  Evening  News  goes  beyond  the  limit  of  decency 
and  of  its  province  by  saying:  "He  is  a  gibbering  monstrosity; 
but  then  what  could  be  expected  of  a  man  who  wears  a  gold 
ring  on  his  thumb?"  Mrs.  Alta  Pease  was  reported  to  have 
"enunciation  of  the  hot  potato  order"  and  altogether  failed  to 
"catch  on,"  at  least  in  Detroit.  Mr.  Rhodes,  the  eighteen-year- 
old  violinist  of  the  company,  was  encouraged,  as  "promising." 
Carreno,  the  only  one  in  artistic  prime,  was  the  lost  star  in  this 
constellation.  In  Chicago,  as  always,  "Carreno  appeared  to  be 
in  extraordinarily  good  spirits,  and  it  did  not  require  a  very 
sensitive  musical  ear  to  understand  that  it  was  a  pleasure  for  her 
to  play,  and  that  she  gave  vent  to  her  happiness  on  the  keys  of 


M2  TERESA  CARRENO 

the  piano."  On  almost  all  of  her  programs  at  this  time  there 
appear  the  "Norwegian  Folk-Scenes"  of  Grieg. 

In  the  Cleveland  Tabernacle  concert  the  immense  audience 
came  as  a  surprise.  Chicago's  Inter-Ocean  pays  her  a  great  com- 
pliment: "Carrefio  never  fails  or  disappoints  as  an  artist."  But 
occasionally  she  loved  to  astonish  her  listeners,  or  to  play  a  joke 
on  them,  as  she  safely  could  in  Chicago.  In  one  of  her  recitals 
at  Weber  Hall  she  had  played  the  "Kreutzer  Variations"  with 
Mr.  Heimendahl.  The  atmosphere  was  dull.  It  needed  some- 
thing to  enliven  it.  In  answer  to  rather  weak  applause  she  re- 
turned to  the  stage,  improvised  a  little,  and  then  to  the  delight 
of  an  audience  now  thoroughly  awake,  threw  back  her  head 
and  sang  Gounod's  "Sing,  Smile,  Slumber"  to  her  own  accom- 
paniment. In  February,  1884,  after  the  Christmas  interim  Te- 
resa was  once  more  on  the  road.  A  New  York  appearance  with 
Emma  Juch  was  followed  in  March  by  a  more  important  week 
in  Chicago. 

Teresa  played  under  the  auspices  of  the  Beethoven  Society 
and  the  patronage  of  the  great  Chicago  magnates  of  industry, 
N.  K.  Fairbank,  Cyrus  McCormick,  and  J.  V.  Farwell  among 
them.  The  Schumann  "Concerto"  and  Weber's  "Polacca  Bril- 
lante"  were  her  medium.  "An  audience  of  creditable  dimen- 
sions, but  of  rather  less  than  the  average  endurance"  attended, 
although  for  the  Tribune  it  was  "the  best  playing  of  this  kind 
of  music  ever  given  in  Chicago."  "Strictly  speaking,"  says  an- 
other critic,  "there  were  no  interpretations  except  those  of 
Madame  Carrefio."  The  Beethoven  "Overture"  and  all  the 
others  were  "decently  and  hopefully  played."  Mr.  Heimendahl, 
it  added,  in  one  of  the  compositions  had  performed  exactly  like 
a  returned  missionary. 

Teresa's  concert  in  Chicago  on  March  8, 1884,  enhanced  by  the 
songs  of  Charles  A.  Knorr,  is  the  one  of  all  these  years  of  ex- 
ploration most  worthy  of  record.  It  marks  the  coming  alive  of 
the  "Second  Suite  Moderne"  of  Edward  MacDowell  in  the 
United  States.  The  program  states  that  it  is  played  "for  the  first 


TERESA  CARRENO  143 

time  in  America."  Holding  the  place  of  honor  in  the  center  of 
the  program,  interpreted  by  his  friend  and  teacher  in  a  city 
that,  of  all  others,  was  ready  to  receive  a  newcomer  open- 
mindedly,  his  work  stood  with  the  "Appassionata,"  Mendels- 
sohn's "E  minor  Prelude  and  Fugue,"  and  other  smaller  classics 
in  appropriate  neighborliness.  Edward  MacDowell  in  Germany 
must  have  welcomed  an  introduction  so  representative.  The 
papers  were  cordial,  if  not  at  once  completely  won  over,  and 
acknowledged  the  promise  of  this,  the  first  American  composer 
to  be  seriously  considered  on  a  par  with  his  European  col- 
leagues. 

Less  altogether  satisfying  was  a  second  recital  on  March  12. 
Mr.  W.  C.  E.  Seeboeck,  playing  the  Chopin  "Concerto  in  E 
minor,"  showed  himself  a  most  exasperating  missing  link  at 
the  second  piano.  "But,"  said  W.  S.  B.  Matthews  in  Music  and 
Drama,  it  was  perhaps  "the  most  astonishing  exhibition  of 
musical  genius  I  have  heard  in  this  city.  Carreno's  performance 
of  the  Concerto  was  masterly.  Poetically  and  artistically  con- 
sidered it  was  beautiful."  While  pronouncing  her  one  of  the 
greatest  artists  of  the  time,  Mr.  Matthews,  one  of  Teresa's  close 
personal  friends,  realized  that  she  had  not  yet  reached  her 
climax,  "for  it  is  only  in  the  last  three  years  of  her  twenty  years 
before  the  public  that  she  has  really  begun  to  do  hard  study," 
but  he  added:  "I  would  rather  hear  her  play  than  any  other 
pianist  I  know  of."  Evidently  in  high  spirits,  Teresa  again 
sprang  the  surprise  of  singing  her  final  encore.  Mr.  Matthews, 
who  knew  his  music,  could  but  admit  that  "it  is  fair  to  say 
that  the  artist  is  in  reality  a  fine  singer,  who  could  easily  be- 
come famous  as  a  vocalist  alone."  Said  the  'News,  "The  large 
audience  almost  unanimously  sat  out  a  recital  that  lasted  three 
hours  and  a  half." 

Encouraged  by  its  cordial  reception,  Teresa  placed  the  Mac- 
Dowell "Suite"  upon  her  program  again  in  a  concert  given  at 
the  Detroit  Conservatory.  It  interested  only  mildly.  Farther 
west  and  eastward  again  continued  the  journey,  then  south- 


144  TERESA  CARRENO 

ward.  A  layman's  reaction  to  one  of  Teresa's  concerts  was 
rhapsodically  given  by  an  old  man  of  Titusville,  Louisiana.  It 
welled  from  the  depth  of  his  untutored  feeling. 

I  did  not  see  much  in  it  when  it  first  began.  There  was  a  good  deal 
of  noise  and  running  up  and  down  the  piano,  but  all  at  once  it 
seemed  to  me  a  morning  on  the  farm  years  and  years  ago.  The  dew 
was  sparkling  on  the  grass;  the  perfume  of  a  thousand  flowers  was 
in  the  air,  and  over  the  hill  the  first  beams  of  the  sun  were  streaming 
in  all  their  golden  splendor.  Suddenly  it  faded  into  eventide.  The 
wind  rose  soft  and  low,  and  whispered  in  the  pines;  the  clouds  came 
up  and  the  rain  pattered  on  the  roof;  the  storm  grew  louder,  the 
thunder  rolled,  the  lightning  flashed,  and  the  music  of  the  storm 
in  all  its  glory  was  upon  me.  But  as  I  listened  the  storm  cleared  away, 
and  there  came  before  me  once  again  the  stirring  sound  of  mothers 
and  wives  weeping  for  very  joy.  And  this  passed  too,  and  in  its  place 
came  the  cradle  song  of  long  years  ago,  and  as  I  listened  there  came  a 
grand  crash  of  sweet  melodies,  and  I  looked  only  to  see  the  piano 
quivering  still,  but  the  musician  gone. 

And  gone  she  is  for  a  time  from  the  biographer's  horizon. 
It  is  plausible  to  assume  that  Teresa  spent  as  much  time  as 
possible  with  little  Teresita,  growing  to  look  more  like  her 
mother  every  day,  and  with  that  awesome  look  of  babyhood 
not  yet  acclimated  to  earth.  Would  this  baby  too  be  only  lent 
to  her  for  temporary  comfort?  Tenderly  the  mother  watched 
over  her,  played  with  her,  and  dressed  her  as  if,  rejuvenating, 
another  doll  had  been  brought  to  her  to  tend. 

It  is  not  hard  to  imagine  that  Teresa  had  come  back  with 
fresh  purpose  and  energy  to  the  preparing  of  new  programs,  in 
the  shaping  of  which  Mrs.  Watson's  exacting  German  stand- 
ards must  have  counted  for  a  great  deal.  She  was  not  among 
those  that  applauded  Teresa  for  singing  her  encores.  Neither 
would  she  tolerate  anything  that  savored  of  salon  music.  About 
this  Teresa  and  Ginka  were  not  entirely  in  accord.  Teresa  knew 
what  the  average  audience  wanted,  and  was  willing  to  com- 
promise in  order  to  give  pleasure,  while  Ginka  insisted  upon 
offering  only  that  which  was  artistically  superior.  Like  any 


TERESA  CARRENO  145 

good  German  autocrat  she  believed  that  what  people  should 
like,  they  could  be  made  to  like.  Discussions  on  this  subject 
were  known  to  last  the  night  through.  But  admittedly  or  not 
Teresa  was  influenced  to  choose  her  new  repertoire  more 
thoughtfully  than  before.  Perhaps  also  to  compensate  for  the 
vacillating  devotion  of  Tag,  she  began  to  concentrate  earnestly 
upon  the  refining  of  her  playing  technically,  reviewing  her 
readings  in  the  light  of  her  changing  ideals,  adding  to  her  list 
the  "Hexentanz"  of  MacDowell  as  well  as  his  "Erzahlung." 

One  day  as  she  watched  Teresita,  scarcely  able  to  walk,  im- 
provising a  little  dance  to  amuse  herself,  the  composer  within 
her  awakened,  and  she  wrote  down  the  melody  of  the  "Teresita 
Waltz,"  the  encore  without  which  none  of  her  later  concerts 
was  allowed  to  end.  She  herself  referred  to  it  disparagingly  as 
a  "mere  bagatelle."  But  the  ingratiating  habanera  lilt,  and  the 
wistful  charm  with  which  she  invested  it,  remain  a  treasure  if 
a  modest  one,  like  a  spider  web  of  early  morning  outlined  in 
drops  of  dew.  " Auch  fyeine  Dinge  \onnen  uns  entzuc\en!> 

On  January  7,  1885,  Tag  and  Teresa  welcomed  a  son.  It 
seemed  only  fair  to  call  him  Giovanni.  Wishing  to  take  ad- 
vantage of  their  momentarily  improved  relationship,  Teresa 
decided  to  arrange  for  a  joint  tour.  Printed  circulars  were  dis- 
tributed, announcing  that  Mme.  Carreno  and  Signor  Tag- 
liapietra  might  be  engaged  for  the  season  1885-86  either  for  a 
fixed  sum  or  on  percentage  basis.  A  sample  program  was  ap- 
pended. Neither  one  suspected  that  far  more  romantic  adven- 
ture lay  ahead. 

While  a  new  pattern  was  in  the  weaving,  the  mother  once 
more  entered  upon  her  nomadic  life.  Early  in  March  she  had 
the  pleasure  of  again  sharing  honors  with  Camilla  Urso  in 
Philadelphia.  Again  the  Sunday  Casino  Concerts  claimed  her. 
The  "Suite  Moderne"  had  its  first  hearing  for  New  York  on 
March  21,  1885,  at  Chickering  Hall  in  one  of  Mr.  Frederick 
Archer's  Monday  organ  matinees,  Teresa  giving  it  the  central 
place  on  the  program.  In  Toronto,  the  "Hexentanz"  by  Mac- 
Dowell, called  "one  of  her  pupils,"  appeared  prominently.  For 


146  TERESA  CARRENO 

Seiior  Buitrago,  Teresa  on  this  occasion  was  not  too  proud  to  play 
the  orchestral  part  of  the  Mendelssohn  violin  concerto  in  ac- 
companiment. 

The  Teresa  of  this  time  is  more  matronly  in  appearance  and 
much  heavier.  Her  favorite  concert  dress  of  stiff  black  moire 
antique  en  train  is  trimmed  elaborately  with  lace,  the  sleeves 
also  of  lace,  and  the  corsage  half  decollete. 

Sometimes  there  was  rough  sledding.  In  a  chamber-music 
concert  shortly  following  upon  her  Chicago  recital  a  cellist  had 
to  be  substituted  at  the  last  moment.  There  was  no  time  to 
rehearse  the  Schumann  Quintette.  "That  cellist  can  thank  his 
stars  that  the  lady  was  able  to  render  her  own  part  and  read 
his  also,"  said  a  critic. 


Teresa  had  not  been  entirely  out  of  touch  with  her  relatives  in 
Venezuela,  chiefly  because  Manuel  was  now  holding  his  own 
in  a  subordinate  post  in  Caracas.  As  captivating  as  he  was  un- 
stable, Manuel  had  been  responsible  for  many  of  her  moments 
of  depression  since  the  death  of  Manuel  Antonio.  To  know 
him  safe  within  the  circle  of  his  native  mountains,  of  family 
friends — what  true  Venezuelan  would  ever  disown  an  intimate 
one? — was  a  distinct  relief. 

Young  Manuel  Antonio  with  his  dapper  beard,  square- 
tailored  and  not  too  long,  never  walked  unnoticed  in  the 
streets.  Young  girls,  framed  becomingly  in  their  parental  win- 
dows, tried  their  best  to  attract  the  attention  of  this  straight, 
handsome  young  man,  whose  six  feet  of  height  stood  out 
among  his  shorter  compatriots.  With  all  his  dignity  Manuel 
had  a  provocative  smile.  It  held  promise  of  fun  and  romance. 
Wisely  the  parents  of  eligible  daughters  held  themselves  aloof. 
It  was  no  secret  that  the  little  money  he  earned  flowed  stream- 
like through  his  hands,  that  he  contracted  debts  and  took  his 
time  to  repay  them.  Manuel's  place,  they  rightly  thought,  was 
not  as  head  of  a  family  but  as  head  of  a  procession.  No  parade 
was  quite  complete  without  him.  Although  well  educated  and 
an  excellent  linguist,  Manuel  was  not  intelligent  enough  to  dis- 
count the  doubtful  currency  of  vanity,  gambling,  and  general 
irresponsible  living  at  its  depreciating  value.  Why  should  he 
worry  as  long  as  he  had  a  sister  to  get  him  out  of  debt,  or 
scrapes  of  any  kind  ?  It  surprised  nobody  but  her,  when,  while 
visiting  Teresa  in  search  of  employment,  he  followed  one  of 
his  inconsequential  impulses  and  on  the  spur  of  the  moment 
married  the  daughter  of  a  small  merchant  in  New  York's  lower 
East  Side.  There  was  no  doubt  that  she  was  a  very  pretty,  happy- 
spirited  young  person,  nor  that  her  background  and  his  were 
as  different  as  a  glass  prism  and  the  Kohinoor.  And  yet  this 
helter-skelter  marriage  proved  to  be  the  one  lucky  move  in 
Manuel's  game  of  life.  In  Rosie  he  found  a  gaiety  which 
matched  his  own,  and  far  transcending  it,  staunch  character 


148  TERESA  CARRENO 

and  devotion,  pluckily  facing  the  strain  of  moving  in  an  un- 
accustomed stratum  of  society.  Rugged  independence  and  te- 
nacity were  as  much  a  part  of  her  as  the  unquenchable  good 
humor  and  optimism  that  steeled  her  against  social  disparage- 
ment. Fortunately  she  was  not  oversensitive.  That  the  coarse 
and  the  fine  were  incongruously  interwoven  within  her  was  her 
salvation.  The  New  York  butcher's  daughter  and  the  diplo- 
mat's wife  were  alike  ready  to  find  life  an  exciting  adventure. 

Teresa  greeted  the  news  of  the  marriage  with  disapproval. 
Altogether  she  and  Rosie  agreed  as  well  as  it  might  be  expected 
that  a  del  Toro,  grandniece  of  Bolivar,  the  perfect  cavalier,  could 
agree  with  Madame  Sans-Gene  resurrected. 

"Du  bist  Orplied,  mein  Land."  Not  more  fervently  did  the 
poet  and  the  composer  sing  their  worship  of  the  land  of  their 
imagination  than  Teresa  felt  it  alive  within  her  for  the  land 
of  her  remembrance,  of  that  childhood  which  had  lasted  only 
for  eight  years  in  all.  Caracas  appeared  to  her  a  golden  city  of 
fairy-tale  splendor,  not  to  be  entered  until  the  trail  had  been 
blazed  with  many  deeds  of  valor,  a  sun-dusted  city,  seen  elu- 
sively  through  the  gossamer  tissue  time  had  let  down  between 
it  and  her.  Was  she  ever  to  see  it  again?  Instead,  here  she  was 
in  New  Rochelle,  preparing  without  particular  anticipation  for 
the  concerts  she  and  Tag  were  planning  together  for  the  com- 
ing winter,  resting  from  a  too  strenuous  season,  and  thoroughly 
delighting  in  one  thing  only,  the  care  of  her  babies. 

One  morning  out  of  the  blinding  blue  of  midsummer,  there 
came  that  which  threw  the  Tagliapietra  household  into  a  tor- 
nado of  excitement  and  activity.  An  official-looking  document 
from  Venezuela  was  in  itself  enough  to  arouse  some  curiosity. 
It  came  from  the  President's  office.  Only  after  several  readings 
did  Teresa  grasp  the  full  import  of  the  communication.  In  the 
name  of  the  Government  of  Venezuela,  its  President  formally 
invited  her,  Teresita  Carrefio,  to  visit  Caracas,  there  to  give  a 
series  of  concerts  in  the  coming  fall.  The  offer  was  not  only 
flattering,  but  generous,  promising  assured  and  triumphant  suc- 
cess. She  might  again  see  the  scenes  of  other  years,  redefine  the 


TERESA  CARRENO  149 

blurred  outlines  of  memory.  Neither  Tag  nor  Teresa  was  apt 
to  receive  negatively  any  suggestion  that  added  variety  and  ad- 
venture to  the  flattening  panorama  of  their  lives.  Tag  saw  the 
possibility  of  greater  personal  success  than  he  was  finding  in 
the  United  States,  and  Teresa  thought  it  salutary  that  her  hus- 
band learn  to  appreciate  his  wife  as  one  who  counted  in  the 
life  of  a  whole  nation.  Might  it  not  improve  their  loosening  re- 
lationship, establish  it  upon  a  surer  foundation?  From  every 
angle  the  invitation  was  not  to  be  ignored.  Besides,  foreign 
horizons  meant  greater  future  prestige  at  home.  To  overcome 
any  possible  reluctance  there  came  word  from  Manuel,  urging 
acceptance,  promising  to  do  his  part  in  paving  the  way  for  their 
coming,  and  also  from  her  aunt,  Maria  Teresa  Carreno,  asking 
them  with  all  Venezuelan  cordiality  to  be  her  house  guests  dur- 
ing their  stay.  A  favorable  reply  was  on  its  way  to  Caracas  by 
return  mail.  Preparations  were  set  in  motion  at  once. 

Teresa  did  not  know  or  care  that  Venezuela  had  just  been 
passing  through  a  period  of  depression  so  severe  that  it  had 
earned  the  title  of  "fatal  biennial."  Politics  in  any  form,  because 
they  had  never  affected  her  personally,  she  did  not  even  try  to 
understand.  Neither  the  Civil-  nor  the  Franco-Prussian  War  had 
kept  her  from  playing  successfully  in  spite  of  them.  She  would 
have  been  the  first  to  ridicule  the  suspicion  that  reasons  of  state 
might  play  a  part  in  the  invitation  extended  to  her  now.  Yet 
many  believed  that,  because  the  Crespo  administration  was  tot- 
tering, any  measure  that  would  substitute  a  common  enthusi- 
asm for  virulent  antagonism  should  be  encouraged,  such  as  the 
coming  of  Venezuela's  greatest  living  genius,  Teresa  Carreno. 
When  they  at  last  set  sail,  it  did  not  worry  them  in  the  least 
that  coincident  with  their  proposed  arrival  in  Venezuela  hotly 
contested  elections  were  to  take  place.  In  Puerto  Cabello  high- 
powered  dispute  had  ended  in  rioting  and  violence.  Seven  per- 
sons were  wounded;  one  was  killed.  The  opposition  used  the 
incident  to  its  own  advantage  by  putting  the  blame  on  the  gov- 
ernment incumbent.  All  over  Venezuela  feeling  on  both  sides 
rose  to  the  seething  point. 


150  TERESA  CARRENO 

Such  were  the  internal  storms  amid  which  on  a  cloudless  after- 
noon of  mid-October,  1885,  the  steamer  Caracas  docked  at  the 
port  of  La  Guaira,  its  houses  looking  as  if  made  of  pastel-tinted 
cardboard  plastered  in  tiers  against  the  rocks.  With  inexpres- 
sible happiness  Teresa  set  foot  upon  native  soil.  A  special  car 
stood  waiting  at  the  station  of  the  railroad  which  had  been  in- 
augurated two  years  before  as  a  part  of  the  celebration  in  honor 
of  Bolivars  centenary.  As  the  train  climbed  from  one  lonely 
eminence  to  the  next,  drawing  her  into  cooler  heights  of  moun- 
tain and  forest,  as  she  watched  the  turquoise  ocean  disappearing 
behind  her,  and  felt  the  transcendent  grandeur  of  virgin  nature 
once  more  familiarly  about  her,  she  saw  herself  again  as  that 
eager-eyed  little  girl  who  more  slowly  and  primitively  had 
driven  down  the  rocky  roads  to  meet  her  unknown  destiny. 
How  different  the  Teresita  of  today,  hardened  at  thirty-two  by 
trouble  and  by  many  bitter  mistakes.  How  would  she  be  re- 
ceived, and  what  would  she  have  to  say  to  her  countrymen  ?  "It 
is  in  me  to  do  more  than  I  have  yet  accomplished.  I  must  go 
upwards  relentlessly,  like  this  train.  I  feel  that  I  must,"  she 
thought.  On  wheezed  the  locomotive.  Tag,  the  unheroic,  was 
distinctly  relieved  when  the  last  precipice  had  been  skirted.  He 
was  the  first  to  hear  a  band  playing  in  the  distance,  rousing  Te- 
resa from  her  absorption  to  listen.  To  the  strains  of  "Gloria  al 
bravo  pueblo"  the  train  came  to  rest  at  the  platform,  thronged 
with  a  dizzying  mass  that  resolved  itself  into  unfamiliar  faces, 
young  and  old,  shading  from  black  to  white.  All  were  waving 
handkerchiefs,  throwing  flowers,  and  shouting.  Could  all  this 
be  for  her? 

The  answer  came  from  a  group  of  gentlemen,  young  gentle- 
men in  their  most  formal  dress,  waiting  stiffly  at  attention  to 
receive  her.  One  of  them,  Senor  Gonzales  Picon  Febres,  after 
a  few  words  of  welcome,  presented  her  with  a  bouquet  tied 
with  streamers  of  bright  blue  silk  inscribed  in  gold  letters:  "A 
Teresa  Carreno  Sus  Compatriotas."  Teresita — in  Venezuela  she 
is  to  this  day  known  by  no  other  name  than  that — was  unpre- 
pared for  any  such  demonstration.  Everything,  from  the  sound 


TERESA  CARRENO  151 

of  her  mother  tongue  to  the  unbridled  enthusiasm  that  now 
welcomed  her  home,  touched  her.  To  the  remarks  of  Senor 
Febres  she  just  managed  to  reply  in  an  uncertain  voice :  "These 
tears  which  come  from  the  heart  speak  for  me.  I  do  not  de- 
serve so  much."  Once  seated  in  the  waiting  carriage  drawn  by 
the  most  beautiful  pair  of  horses  in  all  Caracas  she  quickly  re- 
gained her  composure.  Meanwhile  the  dedicatory  verses  of  a 
rising  young  poet,  Alirio  Diaz  Guerra,  printed  as  leaflets,  were 
being  scattered  among  the  people.  At  last,  escorted  by  twenty 
equipages  filled  with  all  that  was  most  distinguished  in  society, 
Teresa  was  permitted  to  proceed  at  snail's  pace  down  the  Ave- 
nida  Central  toward  the  home  of  her  aunt,  who  with  her  one- 
year-old  baby  had  in  1862  braved  a  foreign  land  for  the  sake  of 
Teresita,  the  prodigy. 

Caracas  was  thoroughly  enjoying  itself.  The  narrow  side- 
walks were  jammed.  From  every  window  handkerchiefs  were 
waving  and  loud  were  the  shouts  of  "Viva  Teresita!'  Her  car- 
riage, the  target  for  flowers  that  finally  covered  her  like  a 
blanket,  moved  on  in  stately  measure.  As  she  bowed  and  waved 
acknowledgment  every  man  became  her  potential  slave  at 
sight;  every  woman  measured  her  as  a  possible  rival.  This  was 
indeed  a  homecoming.  The  matron  of  New  Rochelle,  proud 
mother  of  two  delectable  babies,  so  reluctantly  left  behind,  for 
the  moment  did  not  exist.  Instead  here  was  a  queen,  returned 
from  exile  of  many  years  to  the  country  where  she  again  might 
reign  over  devoted  subjects.  She  played  the  part  with  gusto,  un- 
conscious that  Tag  found  the  role  of  Prince  Consort  less  to  his 
liking.  Nobody  seemed  to  take  notice  of  him,  and  he  was  the 
only  one  glad  to  have  the  triumphal  corso  end  at  45  Avenida 
Norte.  His  frankly  rude  impatience  made  an  unbecoming  back- 
ground for  Teresita  as  she  took  long  and  effusive  leave  of  her 
followers,  and  feeling  himself  at  further  disadvantage  with  rel- 
atives he  had  trouble  in  understanding,  a  clairvoyant  thought 
came  to  him.  It  would  have  been  better  far  had  he  stayed  at 
home. 

As  usual,  when  things  went  wrong  with  him,  Tag  made 


152  TERESA  CARRENO 

Teresa  suffer  for  it.  Once  in  the  privacy  of  the  house  he  became 
sulky,  abusive,  and  ceased  to  care  what  might  be  the  impression 
he  made  upon  his  hosts.  For  Teresita  Tag's  tantrums  were  daily 
diet  in  New  Rochelle.  There  she  could  ignore  them.  In  Vene- 
zuela they  offended  her  pride  deeply  because  her  standing  as 
something  above  the  mortal  was  at  stake.  Husbands  in  Caracas 
treated  their  wives  with  punctilious  respect,  above  all  in  pub- 
lic. Tag's  explosions,  likely  to  occur  anywhere  at  any  time, 
would  not  only  belittle  him  but  her  in  the  eyes  of  her  country- 
men. She  felt  the  danger  and  began  to  regret  as  he  did  that 
she  had  urged  him  to  accompany  her. 

The  day  was  not  to  end  without  another  demonstration  in 
Teresita's  honor.  After  dinner  quiet  had  descended  upon  the 
house  that  was  her  shelter.  The  patio,  fragrant  widi  odors  that 
poignantly  reawakened  memory,  lay  in  grateful  silence.  Sud- 
denly came  the  tramp  of  many  feet  and  the  confusion  of  laugh- 
ing voices !  The  entire  Club  Bolivar,  most  exclusive  of  its  kind, 
had  come  to  serenade  their  famous  compatriot.  C.  V.  Landaeta, 
its  spokesman,  congratulated  Teresita  in  poetic  words  upon  her 
safe  arrival  in  the  land  of  her  birth,  presenting  her  with  a 
sumptuous  bouquet  of  flowers.  A  country  where  orchids  grow 
wild  could  afford  to  be  lavish.  There  was  singing  by  the  tenor, 
Senor  Molina,  accompanied  by  young  Tomas  Michelena,  the 
festivity  lasting  far  into  the  night. 

Teresita,  rejuvenated,  took  the  deepest  satisfaction  in  all  these 
tributes,  and  lost  no  time  in  making  public  a  letter  of  apprecia- 
tion in  the  Opinion  National,  the  organ  of  the  Government.  It 
read: 

On  touching  the  shores  of  the  land  of  my  birth,  I  have  been  hon- 
ored in  receiving  from  my  compatriots  splendid  proof  of  their  cor- 
diality towards  my  humble  self;  I  do  not  deserve  so  much. 

I  am  grateful,  very  grateful  for  the  kind  expressions  of  friendship 
and  consideration  with  which  I  have  been  welcomed  in  this  city,  after 
long  absence  in  foreign  countries;  and  I  take  this  occasion  to  declare 
with  all  my  heart  the  thankfulness  I  feel  for  so  much  kindness,  which 
I  shall  know  how  to  return. 


TERESA  CARRENO  153 

My  greetings  to  the  illustrious  Press  of  Caracas,  to  the  Reception 
Committee,  to  the  members  of  the  Club  Bolivar,  and  other  persons 
from  whom  I  have  received  unmistakable  signs  of  esteem,  and,  very 
particularly,  to  the  worthy  President  of  the  Republic,  the  highly 
honorable  General  Joaquin  Crespo. 

Daily  distinctions  were  conferred  upon  Teresita.  The  free- 
dom of  Caracas  and  the  keys  to  the  city  were  hers,  and  a  depu- 
tation formally  sent  by  the  Government  one  morning  presented 
her  with  the  Busto  de  Bolivar,  a  medal  given  only  to  outstand- 
ing citizens  or  to  an  occasional  foreigner  for  distinguished  serv- 
ice rendered  to  Venezuela.  In  return,  piloted  by  Manuel,  Ter- 
esita and  Tag  one  morning  called  upon  the  President  to  ask, 
as  was  polite  procedure,  that  he  accept  the  dedication  of  her 
first  concert  scheduled  to  take  place  on  October  29,  1885. 

Preparations  began  in  earnest.  The  Teatro  Guzman  Blanco 
was  placed  at  her  disposal  as  the  only  fitting  hall  for  so  sensa- 
tional an  event.  The  first  complications  arose  with  the  assem- 
bling of  the  program  in  which  national  and  social  politics  made 
demands.  First  of  all,  since  the  concert  was  to  take  place  on  the 
eve  of  the  name  day  of  the  Libertador,  it  was  deemed  suitable 
that  his  grandniece  dedicate  this,  her  first  appearance,  to  his 
memory,  as  well  as  to  him  who  now  occupied  the  presidential 
chair.  That  Senor  Molina,  in  return  for  taking  part  in  the  sere- 
nade of  the  Club  Bolivar,  should  be  asked  to  contribute  some 
tenor  solos,  was  a  natural  courtesy.  Then,  as  background  for 
the  Chopin  "Concerto  in  E  minor,"  which  Teresita  had  chosen 
because  it  could  most  easily  dispense  with  full  orchestral  ac- 
companiment, Teresita  had  to  gather  and  blend  together  a 
string  quintette  and  a  pianist.  This  called  for  frequent  rehears- 
ing, and  time  passed  busily  for  all  but  Tag.  Left  to  his  own 
vagabonding  he  soon  found  congenial  company,  and  his  bel- 
lowing voice  and  laugh  became  familiar  sounds  reechoing  from 
wall  to  wall  in  the  streets  by  day.  At  night  he  had  soon  tapped 
most  of  the  gambling  resources  of  Caracas,  finding  them  inex- 
haustible wells  of  diversion.  Venezuela,  he  found,  had  its  points 
after  all,  and  Tag  was  almost  glad  that  he  had  come.  A  more 


154  TERESA  CARRENO 

amiable  mood  made  him  quite  ready  to  appear  in  the  first 
concert. 

In  its  final  form  it  was  framed  at  each  end  by  orchestral  sin- 
fonias.  Each  of  the  assisting  soloists  appeared  twice  upon  the 
program  which  fell  into  two  parts.  In  the  first  Teresita  played 
the  "Concerto."  The  second  began  with  her  "Himno  a  Bolivar" 
for  chorus  and  orchestra,  now  to  be  heard  for  the  first  time 
publicly  in  Caracas.  Henselt's  "If  I  Were  a  Bird,"  Gottschalk's 
"Tremolo,"  and  her  own  "Saludo  a  Caracas"  made  up  a  group 
of  piano  solos.  Liszt's  "Sixth  Rhapsodie"  in  brilliant  conclusion 
called  for  the  "Teresita  Waltz"  as  encore. 

The  freshly  redecorated  Teatro  Guzman  Blanco  was  com- 
pletely filled.  Fashionable  society  attended  in  toto.  Conjecture 
and  gossip  ran  high.  The  atmosphere  which  Teresita  would 
need  to  penetrate  was  surcharged  with  an  unblending  mixture 
of  admiration,  envy,  disapproval,  and  curiosity.  Many  would 
have  welcomed  a  good  fiasco  rather  than  a  good  concert.  The 
minority  were  drawn  by  the  music  itself.  To  most  it  meant  the 
best  show  of  the  season,  one  that  would  refreshingly  break  con- 
versational drought. 

Notably  excepting  the  field  of  opera,  musical  taste  in  Vene- 
zuela had  been  at  a  standstill  for  years.  Caracas,  taught  by  an 
annual  season  of  French  and  Italian  opera  finally  considered 
indispensable,  was  a  better  judge  of  good  and  bad  singing  and 
acting  than  of  piano  playing.  Beyond  that  it  was  content  with 
sentimental  songs  and  dance  music.  The  Chopin  "Concerto," 
heard  for  the  first  time  in  Caracas,  at  least  with  anything  but 
second  piano  accompaniment,  must  have  lured  many  of  the 
audience  beyond  their  musical  depth,  without,  however,  im- 
peding their  enjoyment  of  this  ovation  to  Venezuela's  glorious 
daughter.  It  began  uproariously  as  soon  as  Teresita,  elegantly 
clad  in  unrelieved  black,  the  arms  bare,  the  decollete  severe  and 
low,  crossed  the  stage  with  her  famous  stride,  so  purposeful 
and  elastic  that  it  made  the  boards  vibrate  beneath  her  feet.  Un- 
embarrassed as  one  equally  at  home  in  the  salons  of  the  world 


TERESA  CARRENO  155 

and  in  its  cottages  she  sat  immovable  a  moment  before  begin- 
ning. 

One  of  the  really  absorbed  listeners,  just  recovered  from  a 
serious  illness,  closed  his  eyes  so  as  not  to  be  diverted  from  the 
music  of  the  artist  by  the  beauty  of  the  woman,  now  in  the 
perfection  of  maturity  more  appealing  to  him  than  the  fresh- 
ness of  youth.  His  annoying  neighbor  insisted  upon  telling  him 
what  it  was  she  was  playing,  while  all  he  wished  was  to  listen 
uninformed  and  undisturbed.  At  the  beginning  the  music  had 
seemed  to  him  a  perfect  imitation  of  the  frantic  applause  which 
had  greeted  her  entrance.  Then  it  became  vague  and  melan- 
choly like  the  dream  of  an  unhappy  poet.  The  doctor  had  for- 
bidden his  staying  for  the  whole  concert.  But  that  night  he 
could  not  sleep  for  thinking  of  "esa  bella  Americana."  The 
critics  were  unanimously  taken  captive.  She  not  only  honored 
herself  but  Venezuela,  they  said.  Chopin  himself  would  have 
thanked  her  for  making  his  composition  greater  even  than  he 
had  conceived  it.  "She  not  only  interprets,  she  exalts."  Diffi- 
culties they  declared  nonexistent,  and  her  legato,  her  shading, 
her  phrasing,  and  her  delicacy,  all  were  alike  found  admirable, 
beyond  praise. 

Teresa  stood  among  the  bouquets,  wreaths,  and  garlands 
heaped  about  her,  bowing  regally,  only  with  more  personal  gra- 
ciousness  than  usual.  If  there  was  a  flaw,  it  was  the  absence  of 
Crespo,  probably  prevented  by  duties  of  state,  and  of  her  cousin, 
Guzman  Blanco,  still  in  exile.  It  was  an  open  secret  that  Guz- 
man Blanco  was  slated  to  be  Crespo's  successor,  that  he  was  in 
fact  already  the  power  behind  the  throne,  and  that  it  was  Guz- 
man Blanco  who  had  used  the  pressure  of  his  influence  to 
assure  Teresa's  homecoming. 

The  papers,  flaming  with  eulogies,  asked  for  more  concerts. 
One  even  hoped  for  a  plan  to  repatriate  Teresita  in  her  own 
land,  and  gladly  the  Opinion  Nacional  spread  the  good  news: 
"Our  great  pianist  is  preparing  another  concert.  Everything  in 
this  concert  will  be  surprising  and  new."  This  time  Teresita 


156  TERESA  CARRENO 

chose  to  dedicate  it  "To  the  refined  and  illustrious  Society  of 
Caracas." 

Teresita  dared  to  entrust  the  "Capriccio  Brillante"  of  Mendels- 
sohn and  the  "Polonaise"  of  Weber-Liszt  to  Senor  Pineda  and 
the  orchestra  for  accompaniment.  Senor  Pedro  J.  Izquierdo 
sang  a  number  of  arias,  after  which  Senor  Guillermo  Smith 
sounded  a  jubilant  note  upon  his  cornet.  Teresa's  personal  part 
closed  with  Beethoven's  "Andante  in  F"  and  Kullak's  famous 
"Octave  Study."  The  orchestra  again  framed  the  whole.  Tag 
did  not  appear. 

Artistically  and  financially  Teresa  had  cause  to  be  gratified. 
Such  playing  Caracas  was  not  likely  to  hear  again.  But  what 
of  the  "refined  and  illustrious  Society  of  Caracas"  ?  As  day  after 
day  passed,  and  not  a  single  lady  from  among  those  to  whom 
Teresa  had  dedicated  her  second  concert  came  to  call  upon  her, 
much  less  to  invite  her,  she  became  aware  that  something  was 
amiss.  Whatever  attention  she  received  was  from  gentlemen — 
attention  often  too  glowing  for  comfort — or  from  an  occasional 
family  closely  connected  with  the  existing  government.  It  was 
a  source  of  acute  embarrassment,  especially  to  Teresa's  aunt, 
that  her  own  friends  completely  withdrew  at  this  time,  the 
more  because  she  guessed  the  reason.  Teresa  found  herself  with 
more  than  enough  time  on  her  hands  to  practice  undisturbed. 
Effusive  public  ovation  had  not  prepared  her  in  any  way  for 
this  private  fiasco.  She  felt  profoundly  wounded.  As  so  often 
she  called  pride  to  the  rescue.  A  letter  written  to  Caroline 
Keating  Reed  in  a  rosy  moment  gives  no  inkling  of  cloudy 
horizons. 

February  ist,  1886 
We  have  been  here  since  the  15th  of  October,  and  upon  my  ar- 
rival in  this  city  the  whole  city  went  to  meet  me,  with  a  band  of 
music,  speeches  etc.,  etc.,  and  all  the  demonstrations  of  affection 
from  my  countrymen.  I  will  not  enter  into  details  for  it  will  be  all 
you  want  to  know,  the  result  of  it  all.  To  you  and  quite  in  confidence 
(for  anyone  else  not  knowing  me  might  think  me  vain  and  ridic- 
ulous) I  will  tell  you  that  I  have  been  treated  as  a  queen.  My  en- 


TERESA  CARRENO  157 

trance  to  the  city  was  such  a  general  rejoicing  that  the  streets  through 
which  my  carriage  was  to  pass  from  the  station  to  the  house,  were 
crowded  with  people  who  cheered  me  as  I  passed  and  waved  hats 
and  handkerchiefs  and  treated  me  really  as  if  I  had  been  the  queen 
entering  her  city.  Since  the  ovations,  flowers,  speeches,  serenades, 
decorations,  medals,  in  fact  all  sorts  of  sweet  and  honorific  demon- 
strations have  been  poured  upon  my  head,  and  I  have  felt  all  the 
time  as  if  I  did  not  deserve  anything  and  were  worth  very  little  in 
comparison  to  the  honor  I  was  receiving.  The  government  presented 
me  with  the  Busto  of  Bolivar,  which  is  the  highest  honor  they  can 
bestow  on  anyone,  and  Tag  also  was  presented  with  it  after  the  first 
concert  at  which  he  sang,  which  was  on  January  10th.  The  most 
touching  of  all  to  my  heart  has  been  a  beautiful  golden  medal  which 
the  press  of  Caracas  presented  me  with,  and  a  Diploma  containing 
so  many  highly  flattering  things  that  I  hardly  know  myself  after  read- 
ing it.  We  stayed  here  in  Caracas  one  month  after  the  15th  of  October, 
and  then  we  travelled  to  Puerto  Cabello,  Valencia  and  Ciudad  de 
Cura  and  then  returned  here  on  December  28th,  and  since  then  have 
given  two  more  concerts  here.  Now  we  are  en  route  to  Ciudad  Bolivar 
and  Trinidad  and  from  there  to  Maracaibo.  After  Maracaibo  we  re- 
turn here  and  probably  we  will  after  a  short  season  here  return  home! 
The  very  word  home  thrills  me  all  over!  Just  think  what  a  long  sep- 
aparation  from  my  two  darlings,  from  all  that  my  heart  longs  for 
day  and  night!  You  who  so  well  know  how  my  heart  is  wrapped  up 
in  those  children  can  imagine  how  cruel  this  separation  is  to  me, 
how  great  the  sacrifice,  but  as  it  is  for  their  sake  that  I  am  doing 
all  this,  I  must  pick  up  my  courage  and  try  to  bear  it.  Tag  is  al- 
most entirely  like  himself  again,  and  the  climate  has  restored  him 
to  health  again,  which  if  nothing  else  had  been  obtained  from  our 
trip  out  here,  this  would  be  quite  sufficient.  You  will  be  surprised 
to  see  how  much  longer  we  have  stayed  here  than  we  first  intended, 
but  as  business  turned  out  so  well,  we  determined  to  remain  about 
these  parts  for  the  rest  of  the  season.  .  .  . 

Outwardly  Teresa  continued  to  appear  unmoved,  serene,  all- 
conquering.  She  only  regretted  that  in  those  first,  overjoyous 
days  she  had,  chameleonlike,  shed  the  protective  skin  of  aloof- 
ness to  show  the  warmth  of  her  sincere  affection  to  those  one- 
time family  friends  whose  endearing  demonstrations  were  only 


158  TERESA  CARRENO 

half  meant.  She  had  forgotten  how  colonial,  how  more  than 
puritanical  Caracas  still  was,  with  its  tightly  corseted  standards 
in  which  her  freedom-hungry  spirit  could  no  longer  be  con- 
fined. Bad  enough,  thought  Caracas,  that  a  del  Toro  had  be- 
come a  public  performer,  even  publicly  singing  in  opera.  Since 
she  had  real  genius,  that  might  have  been  overlooked.  But  it 
was  unforgivable  that  she  had  gone  counter  to  her  religion,  no 
longer  even  attended  mass,  that  she  had  been  divorced  and 
had  married  again,  moreover,  according  to  so-called  common 
law  unrecognized  in  orthodox  Caracas,  and  that  she  had  now 
brought  with  her  this  unmannerly,  objectionable  person,  her 
quasi-husband.  Had  Teresa  left  him  at  home,  instead  of  flaunt- 
ing him  publicly  in  Caracas,  her  own  wholesomeness  and  charm 
might  have  lifted  the  barriers.  More  and  more  Tag's  behavior 
was  becoming  scandalous.  First  it  was  only  hinted,  but  soon  es- 
tablished as  a  fact,  that  Giovanni  Tagliapietra  had  treated  his 
wife  with  such  violence  that  she  was  obliged  for  a  time  to 
change  her  residence,  that  Manuel  had  to  keep  him  away  from 
Teresa  at  the  point  of  a  pistol.  Scenes  of  disagreement  and  rec- 
onciliation were  clearly  audible  upon  the  listening  street.  Their 
quarrels  became  teacup  gossip.  Women  declared  themselves  un- 
willing to  trust  their  children  to  such  a  siren.  Rumor  with  her 
distorting  and  magnifying  glasses  made  matters  worse.  She 
had,  so  it  said,  found  more  than  normal  favor  in  the  eyes  of 
Guzman  Blanco,  her  second  cousin  on  the  maternal  side. 

Teresa  was  ready  to  leave  Caracas  to  its  scandal-savoring  par- 
ties, and  to  take  Tag  away  to  more  healthful  cities  of  Vene- 
zuela, where  together  they  might  gather  new  laurels  in  spots 
less  hampered  by  tradition.  She  realized  that  he  would  not  have 
resorted  to  making  such  an  exhibition  of  himself  if  he  had  had 
something  else  to  do.  After  an  extended  tour  through  the  prov- 
inces she  decided  upon  giving  a  farewell  concert  in  Caracas, 
which,  on  account  of  its  success,  had  to  be  repeated.  The  first  was 
called  a  gala  function  and  was  listed  as  being  under  the  aus- 
pices of  the  youth  of  Caracas.  It  took  place  on  January  10,  1886. 
At  the  head  of  a  long  program  in  which  the  two  artists  were 


TERESA  CARRENO  159 

supported  by  the  orchestra,  Teresa  expressed  her  gratitude  in 
print — was  there  a  sarcasm  in  the  words  ? 

As  the  greatest  proof  of  my  devotion  to  my  compatriots  of  beloved 
Venezuela,  I  have  returned  to  its  arms  to  offer  it  my  farewells  in 
a  last  concert.  It  is  with  that  alone  that  I  am  able  to  return  so  many 
evidences  of  affection;  and  my  husband,  also  delighted,  has  agreed 
to  take  part  in  it,  showing  in  this  way  his  love  for  those  who  have 
showered  me  so  often  with  delicate  attention.  Wherever  fate  may 
take  me,  there  will  always  gratefully  beat  my  heart  for  this  piece  of 
earth  which  I  so  dearly  cherish. 

This  concert,  which  the  youth  of  Caracas  commemorated  with 
a  medal  of  gold  presented  to  Teresita,  offered  the  novelty  of  a 
duet  from  //  Trovatore  sung  at  the  close  by  Teresita  and  Tag 
together.  Finally,  by  general  request,  another  farewell  concert 
took  place  on  February  24.  It  was  given  in  honor  of  the  Min- 
isters of  the  Cabinet  for  the  benefit  of  the  Caracas  Hospitals, 
and  again  terminated  with  a  joint  duet,  this  time  from  Lucia. 
The  Chopin  "Concerto,"  on  this  occasion  accompanied  by  full 
orchestra,  was  repeated,  and  a  "Tarantella"  by  Gottschalk,  also 
with  the  orchestra  assisting,  evidently  had  its  first  hearing  and 
probably  its  last.  Definitely  and  finally  to  leave  Caracas  on  this 
charitable  note  was  Teresita's  firm  intention.  On  neither  side 
was  there  unbearable  sorrow  at  parting.  Caracas  was  offended 
that  Teresita  would  not  tailor  her  life  to  its  fixed  measure- 
ments; Teresita  found  it  intolerable  to  be  drawn  into  close  and 
narrow  perspective  by  the  myopically  guided  pencil  of  provin- 
cial prejudice.  Had  not  someone  been  reported  as  having  said 
that  many  young  girls  of  Caracas  played  as  well  as  she  ?  Ridicu- 
lous as  such  a  criticism  was,  it  rankled. 

Once  more  the  pair  started  upon  a  trip  that  led  them  as  far 
as  Trinidad.  Everywhere  they  shared  the  program  together, 
everywhere  a  triumphant  reception,  if  not  always  a  full  house, 
awaited  them.  The  unprejudiced  cordiality  of  the  provinces  did 
much  to  reestablish  a  happy  state  of  mind  within  and  between 
themselves.  Teresita  could  again  enjoy  to  the  full  the  parties 


i6o  TERESA  CARRENO 

given  for  her.  Because  it  helped  to  keep  domestic  peace  it 
pleased  her  that  Tag  was  well  received.  To  sit  through  endless 
literary  festivities  staged  in  her  honor,  to  hear  poem  after  poem 
of  which  she  was  invariably  the  subject,  all  this  did  not  seem 
to  tire  her.  If  only  she  had  left  Caracas  on  the  same  note  of 
triumph  on  which  she  had  entered  it !  Flowers  and  presents  did 
not  allow  her  to  forget  that  minor  ending. 

Meanwhile  Guzman  Blanco  was  again  in  office.  One  of  his 
first  acts  was  to  urge  Teresita  to  revisit  Caracas.  Beside  the  fact 
that  it  would  have  been  rudeness  to  refuse  the  new  President, 
here  was  the  chance  to  strike  that  compensating  major  chord. 

During  her  absence  public  opinion  had  not  changed  in  Tere- 
sita's  favor.  The  very  fact  that  Guzman  Blanco  stood  as  her 
sponsor  did  not  increase  her  popularity.  The  new  Government 
was  holding  its  own  with  characteristic  difficulty.  Guzman 
Blanco  was  known  to  be  vain  and  personally  ambitious.  Noth- 
ing was  more  important  to  him  than  a  statue  in  his  honor. 
Even  the  genius  of  his  cousin  he  considered  just  another  feather 
with  which  to  adorn  his  already  well-trimmed  cap.  Her  fire, 
her  wit,  her  charm  were  enough  to  turn  the  head  of  the  most 
resistant  man,  and  Blanco  was  not  one  of  these. 

A  literary  festival  was  prepared  to  celebrate  his  return  to 
power  in  formal  fashion.  Prize-winning  sonnets  were  read  in 
his  honor.  Jose  Antonio  Calcano  read  one  of  his  poems,  com- 
memorating the  last  hours  of  Bolivar's  life.  An  intimate  inter- 
lude warmed  the  atmosphere.  Seated  in  the  presidential  box, 
Guzman  Blanco  noticed  his  predecessor  close  by.  With  gentle- 
manly tact  he  invited  General  Crespo  to  join  him,  while  Senora 
Blanco  took  her  seat  with  Senora  Crespo.  Enthusiasm  needed 
only  this  to  flare  up  wildly.  Applause  came  from  the  heart, 
now  for  the  President,  now  for  the  artists,  the  lion's  share  always 
being  reserved  for  Teresita  Carreno.  Politics,  literature,  and  mu- 
sic melted  into  inseparable  homage. 

After  this  it  seemed  only  natural  for  Teresa  to  give  a  "grand 
gala  concert  herself  in  honor  of  the  illustrious  American,  Guz- 
man Blanco,  and  of  his  most  respected  Senora,"  to  congratulate 


TERESA  CARRENO  161 

them  upon  their  happy  return.  It  took  place  early  in  Septem- 
ber, 1886.  Knowing  that  nothing  could  please  him  more  Tere- 
sita  quickly  composed  a  "Hymn  to  Guzman  Blanco."  The  solo 
part  against  a  background  of  chorus  and  full  orchestra  fell  to 
the  lot  of  Tag.  Under  the  baton  of  Senor  Pineda  Teresita  played 
the  "Hungarian  Fantasia"  of  Liszt  and  the  Weber-Liszt  "Polo- 
naise." Tag  chose  some  of  his  old  favorites  from  his  rather 
limited  concert  repertoire.  Teresa  the  composer,  the  pianist, 
and  the  wife  had  reason  to  look  with  pride  upon  the  success 
of  the  evening.  The  stage  was  festive  with  the  gaily  colored 
flag  of  Venezuela  draped  around  an  oil  painting  of  the  new 
President.  Former  disappointments  faded  into  insignificance. 
This  was  the  major  ending.  To  add  another  farewell  concert 
after  this  seemed  like  tempting  Providence.  There  is  record 
that  such  a  one  was  planned.  The  reason  for  its  sudden  recall 
is  not  given,  the  responsibility  resting  upon  "unforeseen  cir- 
cumstance." It  is  highly  probable  that  a  new  project  made 
hasty  departure  imperative. 

The  enthusiasm  Teresita  had  aroused  in  Guzman  Blanco  sur- 
passed the  reasonable.  Her  return  to  Venezuela  must  at  any 
price  be  assured  and  that  speedily.  Congress  had  just  voted  the 
annual  appropriation  of  100,000  bolivars  to  finance  the  season  of 
opera  which  was  to  begin  early  in  the  new  year.  Could  any- 
thing be  more  timely  than  to  entrust  Teresita,  who  had  herself 
sung  in  opera,  with  this  enterprise?  The  idea  was  a  brilliant 
one,  thought  Guzman  Blanco,  not  stopping  to  consider  that 
the  qualities  that  make  a  great  artist  and  a  good  manager  are 
in  their  essence  of  different  kind.  Tag  needed  no  persuasion  to 
second  the  plan,  and  if  Teresita  had  any  qualms,  they  were 
soon  overcome  by  the  confidence  of  the  other  two.  Without  de- 
lay it  was  decided ;  Tag  must  go  to  Italy,  Teresa  to  New  York, 
to  assemble  the  company,  both  to  meet  in  Caracas  in  early  Jan- 
uary. Tag,  in  his  element  as  future  manager  of  the  Teresa  Car- 
reno  Grand  Opera  Company,  immediately  set  off.  Teresita, 
scarcely  stopping  for  the  most  necessary  farewells,  embarked 


162  TERESA  CARRENO 

for  New  York,  where  with  every  fiber  of  her  being  she  longed 
to  be.  Not  the  opera  company,  but  her  two  children  were  the 
magnet  that  drew  her  home.  Never  would  she  set  sail  again 
without  them. 

Fall  was  at  its  loveliest  when  she  once  more  greeted  the  New 
York  skyline.  This  was  the  country  of  her  habit,  more  really 
hers  than  the  country  where  she  was  born.  But  once  more  with 
those  friends  whose  trustworthiness  she  had  missed,  she  gave 
no  hint  that  the  glittering  brilliance  of  that  glorious  tour  had 
had  its  obscuring  shadows.  In  every  sense  her  success  and  Tag's 
had  been  phenomenal,  unprecedented.  Teresa  talked  even  her- 
self into  believing  that  it  must  have  been  so. 

If  Teresa  missed  Tag  at  all,  it  was  with  relief  that  she  could 
have  her  children  to  herself.  On  entering  her  home  she  felt 
peaceful  and  contented,  as  so  rarely  when  Tag  was  near.  Hear- 
ing and  engaging  singers  for  her  opera  company  was  a  divert- 
ing by-product  among  her  other  activities,  one  that  she  found 
herself  unable  to  take  very  seriously.  That  time  was  short  and 
few  good  singers  left  unemployed  at  the  height  of  the  season, 
would  have  caused  Teresa  more  worry  had  she  rated  the  musi- 
cal taste  of  Caracas  more  highly.  In  this  she  miscalculated. 

Time  and  distance  did  not  make  it  possible  to  keep  in  close 
touch  with  Tag's  procedure.  In  the  way  of  the  genius,  expect- 
ing nothing  less  of  others  than  their  very  best,  Teresa  trusted 
that  smooth  emulsion  would  result  from  this  miscellany  of 
talent  assembled  without  the  binder  of  common  experience  and 
common  drill.  In  January  there  was  still  time  for  a  few  con- 
certs reaching  from  Boston,  where  Teresa  shone  in  "the  fifth 
grand  concert  of  the  Ideal  Music  Course  of  the  Boston  Sym- 
phony Orchestral  Club,"  to  Cincinnati,  where  three  recitals  fol- 
lowed each  other  closely. 

Finally  on  Friday,  February  25,  1886,  Teresa  with  her  French 
maid,  Josephine  de  Paul,  two  children,  and  thirty-two  people 
of  the  operatic  ensemble  left  the  ship  Valencia  at  La  Guaira. 
The  inevitable  intimacy  of  life  on  shipboard  had  given  Teresa 


TERESA  CARRENO  163 

more  than  a  hint  of  what  might  be  in  store  for  her  with  a 
group  so  unevenly  tempered,  and  often  she  had  occasion  to 
wish  that  the  ship  might  be  turned  back  to  safer  harbor.  It 
took  all  her  cheerfulness,  tact,  and  personality  to  adjust  differ- 
ences, and  to  reassure  the  none-too-brave  company  whom  a 
rousing  storm  had  reduced  to  unaccustomed  prayer.  Fortu- 
nately there  remained  five  days  after  landing  before  Tag's  ar- 
rival presented  a  further  problem.  Teresita  was  already  estab- 
lished in  an  apartment  she  had  rented  near  the  Panteon  when 
he  appeared  in  all  his  importance  as  "Director  and  Adminis- 
trator" of  the  company,  for  which  Teresa  was  officially  respon- 
sible, and  to  which  she  lent  her  more  famous  name.  "Let  us 
prepare  to  enjoy  the  ineffable  pleasures  which  the  present  sea- 
son of  Italian  opera  will  offer  us,"  welcomingly  and  hopefully 
writes  the  Opinion  NacionaL 

The  published  list  of  artists  included  singers  by  their  own 
admission  famous  in  all  the  principal  theaters  of  Europe  and 
the  United  States,  a  complete  corps  de  ballet  with  a  prima  bal- 
lerina, and  an  orchestra  of  thirty  professors  of  whom  five  came 
from  Europe.  The  conductor  was  Fernando  Rachelle.  The  roster 
promised  three  operas  new  to  Caracas,  The  Huguenots,  Mi- 
gnon,  and  Carmen,  also  Ruy  Bias,  Lucia,  Rigoletto,  Un  Ballo 
in  Maschera,  Faust,  Norma,  Lucrezia,  Aida,  Roberto  il  Diavolo, 
L'Africana,  La  Sonnambula,  II  Barbiere  de  Sevilla,  etc.,  etc. 
Each  subscription  series  gave  admission  to  ten  different  per- 
formances, the  prices  ranging  from  $10  to  $13,  boxes  for  six 
persons  selling  at  $120.  Un  Ballo  in  Maschera  was  chosen  to 
introduce  the  company.  Seats  sold  quickly.  The  city  buzzed. 
A  representative  of  the  press  who  was  invited  to  hear  the  dress 
rehearsal  reported  that  all  who  had  the  privilege  of  being 
guests  at  this  performance  were  delighted  with  its  quality.  He 
then  devoted  equal  space  and  eulogy  to  the  freshly  redecorated 
walls  and  the  woodwork,  and  left  it  to  the  public  to  judge  of  the 
merits  of  the  individual  artists,  merely  taking  the  opportunity 
to  felicitate  Senora  Carreno  for  her  cleverness  in  choosing  so 


164  TERESA  CARRENO 

admirable  a  troupe,  and  Caracas  for  having  in  its  walls  a  com- 
pany "that  will  make  it  forget  its  natural  troubles  and  enjoy 
countless  delights." 

Dr.  Manuel  Revenga,  to  whose  courteous  pen  fell  the  diffi- 
cult duty  of  writing  the  criticism  of  the  first  public  perform- 
ance, expressed  himself  with  kindly  appreciation,  but,  for  a 
Venezuelan,  with  marked  reserve.  He  stressed  disproportion- 
ately the  difficulties  Carreno  must  have  encountered  in  bring- 
ing together  a  group  of  artists  at  such  a  short  notice  just  when 
the  most  and  the  best  were  already  under  contract  elsewhere. 
Considering  this  handicap  the  management,  according  to  Senor 
Revenga,  could  only  be  said  to  have  done  well.  The  two  ele- 
ments that  spoke  most  loudly  for  the  success  of  the  enterprise 
he  found  in  the  quality  of  the  voices,  almost  all  conceded  to  be 
admirable,  and  in  the  fact  that  it  was  sponsored  by  Teresita 
Carreno.  Quite  incredible  he  found  the  ridiculous  rumor  that 
there  existed  in  Caracas  a  spirit  of  hostility  toward  this  great 
artist,  and  consequently  to  the  undertaking  to  which  she  lent 
her  name.  Carreno,  he  asserted,  in  no  way  deserved  such  an 
attitude,  nor  was  it  in  keeping  with  Venezuelan  courtesy.  It 
would  be  unthinkable  for  people  as  deferential  and  just  as  his 
countrymen  were  known  to  be  to  harbor  a  grudge  against  a 
Venezuelan,  all  the  more  so  because  she  happened  to  be  one 
of  her  daughters.  Wishing  to  waste  no  more  words  upon  such 
bagatelles,  he  turned  to  the  description  of  the  glittering  audi- 
ence, distinguished  by  the  presence  of  the  President  and  his 
illustrious  family.  With  the  exception  of  the  tenor  who  ob- 
viously was  suffering  from  acute  stage  fright,  and  so  left  his 
audience  cold,  Senor  Revenga  had  nothing  unfavorable  to  say 
of  the  entire  company. 

The  second  series  opened  with  Lucia,  more  genuinely  suc- 
cessful for  the  appearance  in  the  title  role  of  Senora  Linda  Bram- 
billa,  who  fired  the  critic  to  extravagant  words  of  praise.  This, 
however,  did  not  suffice  to  keep  the  attendance  from  falling  off 
noticeably  from  then  on  night  after  night.  In  spite  of  reviews 
that  gave  hint  of  the  ominous  undercurrent  of  general  dissatis- 


TERESA  GARRENO  165 

faction,  in  spite  of  the  apparently  good  impression  made  by 
Tag  as  Valentine  in  Faust,  there  could  soon  be  no  hiding  of 
the  fact  that  animosity  was  gaining  momentum,  fanned  to  heat 
by  the  opposition  party  on  the  alert  to  make  the  most  of  any 
governmental  faux  pas.  La  Campana,  2.  short-lived  journal, 
whose  reason  for  being  was  to  run  counter  to  whatever  hap- 
pened to  be  in  favor  with  the  Government,  however  praise- 
worthy, jumped  at  the  chance  to  make  this  operatic  venture  a 
point  of  political  contention,  the  opera  house  its  battleground. 
i(Don  Fiasco  continua  in  alza"  cries  ha  Campana. 

No  wonder  that  similar  unrest  was  felt  behind  the  scenes. 
Strange  were  the  things  that  happened  there.  During  rehearsal 
one  morning  a  bottle  containing  a  nasty  liquid  suddenly  broke 
at  the  feet  of  Teresita.  Nor  could  a  stone  that  grazed  her  head 
have  been  a  mere  accident.  Added  to  the  customary  interludes 
of  intrigue  and  rivalry  within  the  company,  fear  of  danger  from 
without  spread  its  disorganizing  influence.  Abusive  articles  ap- 
peared ;  threatening  letters  fed  the  already  overstimulated  imag- 
ination with  dread  and  terror.  Even  from  the  audience  came 
audible  hisses  and  whistles  of  disapproval,  while  an  egg  splash- 
ing upon  the  stage  not  infrequently  added  its  spurt  to  the 
legitimate  sound  of  song  and  orchestra,  an  occurrence  which 
the  performers  learned  to  take  philosophically.  It  did  not,  how- 
ever, help  to  improve  the  ensemble,  which  was  undeniably 
bad.  Teresa  was  too  busy  to  take  in  the  full  meaning  of  the 
controversy  of  which  the  opera  company  was  the  unhappy 
focus,  and  which  the  politicians  and  their  agents  so  thoroughly 
exploited.  The  opposition  needed  a  target  for  its  venom,  for 
which  it  chose  the  deplorable  Tag.  Generally  disliked,  he  was 
the  logical  one  to  attack.  One  morning  an  anonymous  letter 
threatened  him  with  a  volley  of  ripe  tomatoes,  should  he  re- 
appear upon  the  stage  as  Rigoletto.  Rather  than  brave  the  in- 
sult Tag  chose  the  safer  course,  and  published  a  letter  in  which 
he  took  reluctant  leave  of  his  audience,  also  making  public  the 
one  which  caused  him  to  take  the  step.  The  amusement  with 
which  this  abdication  must  have  been  greeted  may  well  be 


166  TERESA  CARRENO 

imagined.  At  his  expense  the  city  rang  with  ridicule  and  anec- 
dote. Only  one  brave  voice  was  heard  to  urge  his  return  to  the 
stage. 

Even  this  new  humiliation  did  not  down  Teresa.  She  was 
made  of  tough,  resilient  fiber.  If  failure  were  once  again  to 
turn  to  success  some  drastic  measure  alone  could  do  it.  Mean- 
while Holy  Week  gave  breathing  space.  Teresa,  ever  inventive 
in  a  crisis,  had  time  to  map  out  new  tactics.  There  was  still  her 
popularity  as  a  pianist  left  to  turn  to  account.  When  it  was 
announced  that  at  the  next  performance  of  Rigoletto  she  would 
play  the  "Polonaise"  of  Weber-Liszt  between  the  second  and 
third  acts  the  public  was  forced  to  admire  her  resourcefulness. 
There  was  at  once  a  marked  increase  in  the  size  and  the  cordial- 
ity of  the  audience. 

Signor  Rachelle,  his  nerves  on  edge  from  the  strain  of  over- 
work and  the  miscarriage  of  all  his  best  intentions,  came  to  the 
limit  of  endurance  caused  by  rumors  of  a  plot  to  blow  up  the 
opera  house  during  the  next  performance.  That  he  could  not 
face.  So,  feigning  illness  he  left  the  company  to  the  mercy  of 
bombs  that  never  exploded.  Another  conductor  lasted  only  for 
a  night.  Teresa  on  this  occasion  again  tried  to  save  the  day  by 
playing  the  "Sixth  Rhapsodie"  of  Liszt  during  the  intermission, 
proudly  ignoring  danger.  Two  of  her  young  admirers  were 
clapping  to  the  point  of  paralysis.  One  of  them,  too  exhausted 
to  continue,  jokingly  suggested  to  the  other:  "And  now  that 
we  have  applauded  the  artist,  let  us  recall  her  again,  and  as 
cordially  hiss  the  impresario." 

The  opera  must  continue.  That  was  all  that  mattered  to 
Teresa  now.  But,  try  as  she  might,  nobody  was  found  willing  to 
step  into  the  vacancy.  This  put  Teresa  on  her  mettle.  One  of 
her  beliefs  was  that  the  impossible  exists  only  to  be  proved  pos- 
sible by  the  strong-hearted.  The  papers  announced  one  morn- 
ing: "Teresa  Carreno  herself  will  conduct  the  orchestra  in  La 
Favorita  and  ha  Sonnambula."  Admiration  once  more  flamed 
for  the  intrepid  amazon,  worthy  indeed  to  be  named  with  the 
great  Bolivar.  And  she  who  had  never  before  conducted  was  able 


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TERESA  CARRENO  167 

as  well  as  any  man  to  hold  orchestra,  soloists,  and  chorus  to- 
gether. Moreover,  she  rather  enjoyed  the  experience.  The  ex- 
hilaration of  feeling  within  her  unplumbed  depths  of  power 
rising  to  the  surface  at  her  call  uplifted  her  spiritually,  al- 
though, overfatigued  by  this  unaccustomed  exercise,  her  arms 
ached  through  the  night  in  spite  of  the  efforts  of  a  devoted 
masseuse  by  day.  But  what  did  that  matter  if  the  season  could 
be  brought  to  its  close  without  further  mischance  ?  Indications 
were  hopeful.  The  journals  praised  Teresa's  conducting;  when- 
ever La  Brambilla  sang  the  house  was  well  filled. 

The  greatest  lack  of  all  was  in  the  quality  of  the  tenor.  Cara- 
cas knew  its  arias,  and  refused  to  be  satisfied  with  a  voice 
whose  long,  high  notes  were  barren  of  all  sweetness,  growing 
thinner  and  duller  onlv  to  break  off  at  the  end  for  lack  of 
control.  Even  La  Brambilla  could  not  make  up  for  that.  Again, 
in  addition  to  the  conducting,  Teresa  appeared  between  acts  as 
pianist.  Her  pluck  might  have  saved  the  day  had  it  not  been 
for  the  sudden  real  or  assumed  indisposition  of  La  Brambilla 
herself.  This  was  the  coup-de- grace.  II  Trovatore  and  Lucia  had 
a  hearing  each  under  Teresa's  baton.  Then  even  she  had  to 
concede  that  "Don  Fiasco"  had  won  the  day,  and  that  the  opera 
season  must  end  a  week  before  its  time. 

As  for  La  Brambilla,  miraculously  restored  to  health,  she 
found  herself  able  to  give  a  recital  on  May  1,  the  very  day  that 
was  to  have  marked  the  triumphant  farewell  of  the  Carreno 
Opera  Company.  Other  concerts  by  the  prima  donna  followed, 
whose  success  was  the  more  flamboyant  for  the  background  of 
failure  against  which  they  were  silhouetted.  Teresa  made  hasty 
preparation  for  leaving.  As  a  last  act  of  generosity  the  Govern- 
ment bought  the  properties  of  the  disbanded  opera  company 
for  20,000  bolivars,  finally  also  the  concert  grand  piano  espe- 
cially designed  for  Teresa  by  the  Weber  Company.  That  same 
piano  may  still  be  standing  as  it  did  in  1935,  turned  upon  its 
side,  in  a  dark  corner  of  the  Teatro  Municipal,  ruined  by  damp- 
ness and  the  all-penetrating  comajen.  The  old  janitor  still  re- 
members that  ill-fated  opera  season  in  which  there  was  nothing 


168  TERESA  CARRENO 

luminous  but  Teresa  herself  in  all  her  beauty,  her  genius,  and 
her  courage. 

For  a  person  like  Teresa  Carreno,  who  had  achieved  the  un- 
achievable since  childhood,  to  whom  intuition  had  pointed  the 
way,  it  was  natural  to  believe  that,  Teresa  being  Teresa,  ob- 
stacles would  overcome  themselves,  that  no  matter  how  un- 
charted the  jungle  paths  upon  which  she  chose  to  enter,  they 
would  inevitably  lead  to  the  chosen  destination.  In  coming  to 
Venezuela  she  made  two  fatal  mistakes.  She  chose  both  the 
wrong  time  and  the  wrong  method.  Far  from  binding  her  to 
the  country  of  her  origin,  it  estranged  her  from  it.  This  mutual 
misunderstanding,  for  which  both  sides  may  be  held  responsi- 
ble, was  not  to  be  entirely  dispelled  during  her  lifetime.  As 
advancing  years  brought  perspective  and  more  lucid  under- 
standing, a  longing  to  revisit  her  country  was  born.  She  had 
made  plans  to  revisit  it  in  1917,  plans  which  were  foiled  by 
her  death.  Had  this  visit  become  a  fact  she  would  have  found 
an  understanding  welcome  by  a  musical  generation  more  ready 
to  receive  her  message  and  by  a  society  less  overcritical  of  the 
external  and  trivial,  more  open  to  sincerity  and  greatness  of 
heart.  Teresa  would  have  felt  at  home  in  the  Venezuela  of 
today. 

Many  instances  in  her  later  life  gave  evidence  of  this  perhaps 
unconscious  nostalgia.  There  was  one  glittering  day  in  the 
Swiss  Alps.  Carreno  and  a  number  of  others  were  together  in 
the  little  funicular  train  that  puffs  its  way  from  the  Scheidegg 
to  Grindelwald,  the  seat  of  Carreno's  summer  colony  of  1912. 
Suddenly  Carreno's  attention  was  caught  by  two  people  in 
front  of  her.  They  had  not  spoken  a  word.  Turning  to  her  hus- 
band, she  said :  "Those  people,  I  am  sure,  are  from  my  country. 
I  am  going  to  speak  to  them."  She  was  right.  For  the  rest  of 
the  trip  she  talked  only  with  them.  Rarely  had  she  been  so 
elated,  so  absorbed. 

Not  alone  were  the  roots  of  her  being  embedded  in  the  fruit- 
ful tropical  soil  that  clung  to  them.  There  it  was  also  that  the 
tender  shoots  sprouted  that  foreordained  the  line  and  tempo  of 


TERESA  CARRENO  169 

her  growing  as  person,  as  artist.  The  tree  developed  into  mag- 
nificent prime  of  stature  and  of  flowering.  Then,  blessed  by  the 
glow  of  sunset,  its  leaves  carpeted  adopted  earth  with  scarlet 
and  gold.  But  whether  the  sap  coursed  violently  or  quietly, 
whether  it  became  thinned  or  enriched  by  frequent  transplant- 
ing, there  remained  that  which  in  its  essence  was  of  Venezuela. 


Teresa  returned  to  New  York  under  the  disappointment  of 
thwarted  affection.  It  had  flowed  strongly,  ready  to  expend 
itself  upon  anyone  who  approached  her  with  simple  friendli- 
ness. There  had  been  few  of  those.  Instead  she  had  felt  herself 
shut  out,  set  apart,  ostracized.  As  she  reviewed  the  season  in 
the  perspective  she  realized  that  she  had  been  shortsighted,  that 
she  herself  was  largely  to  blame  for  the  outcome.  "I  have  been 
stupid,  unforgivably  stupid,"  she  admitted  to  herself.  Pride 
again  did  not  permit  her  to  share  this  secret  with  her  friends 
at  home.  For  them  she  jotted  down  only  the  happy  hours,  until 
they  firmly  believed  that  the  brilliant  success  of  the  first  visit 
was  only  surpassed  by  that  of  the  second.  Covering  the  original 
canvas  of  drab  misadventures  with  the  gayest  colors  on  the 
palette  of  her  imagination,  Teresa  herself  soon  felt  better.  Only 
in  Venezuela  some  still  remember  the  underlying  painting, 
without  caring  to  expose  it. 

And  soon  came  the  cheerful  distraction  of  moving  into  a  new 
home.  Teresa,  suddenly  feeling  the  need  of  being  closer  to  her 
friends,  the  MacDowells,  chose  207  East  Eighteenth  Street.  The 
mentally  relaxing  activity  of  making  the  house  livable  suited 
her  mood.  The  furniture  she  bought  was  to  be  paid  for  little 
by  little.  In  time  her  home  should  be  entirely  hers.  Tag  was 
consulted  only  in  second  intention. 

The  routine  of  concert  life  soon  caught  her  in  its  automati- 
cally spinning  wheel,  as  if  there  had  been  no  interlude.  Hughsie 
and  Josephine  were  there  to  take  care  of  the  children.  Teresita 
began  to  show  signs  of  uncommon  gift  for  the  piano.  For  the 
entertainment  of  friends  she  played  the  Bach  "Prelude"  to  the 
applique  of  Gounod's  "Ave  Maria,"  sung  by  her  father.  Piano 
her  mother  taught  her  according  to  Manuel  Antonio's  method. 
When  practicing  was  finished,  Teresita  was  eager  to  go  on 
with  inventions  of  her  own.  "And  now  may  I  do  my  non- 
sense?" she  would  ask.  It  consisted  in  transposing  whatever 
struck  her  fancy  from  one  key  to  another. 

Often  little  Giovanni  sat  quietly  by  her  side.  If  someone  in- 


TERESA  CARRENO  171 

terrupted,  he  reprimanded  them  curtly;  "Sh!  Dada  is  playing 
Bach!"  Next  to  that  the  greatest  thrill  of  his  babyhood  was  the 
room  that  displayed  his  father's  operatic  wardrobe.  Each  sepa- 
rate costume  was  a  living  person  with  whom,  hardly  able  to 
speak  intelligibly,  he  held  long  conversation. 

In  Teresa's  eyes  nothing  remained  of  the  perfect  lover  she 
had  once  seen  in  Tag.  Strangely  enough,  just  at  this  time  the 
announcement  sent  out  more  than  a  year  ago  had  borne  fruit, 
the  two  were  more  often  heard  in  concert  together  than  before. 

Meanwhile  Ginka  Watson,  whose  nature  could  not  bear  to 
see  things  going  wrong  without  doing  her  part  to  right  them, 
kept  on  urging  a  separation.  "It  is  in  Germany  you  should  take 
refuge  from  that  creature,  your  husband,"  she  tirelessly  re- 
peated. And  Teresa  just  as  regularly  countered:  "Where  shall  I 
get  the  money?"  There  the  matter  rested.  She  would  never 
again  leave  the  United  States  without  her  children.  The  idea, 
however,  germinated,  and  Ginka,  the  practical,  was  cogitating. 

In  March,  1888,  Teresa  opened  the  door  of  her  house  one  morn- 
ing to  a  dapper,  blond  Italian,  fresh  from  the  stormy  Atlantic, 
which  had  behaved  more  uproariously  than  usual  that  winter 
of  the  famous  blizzard.  He  radiated  sunshine  and  kindness,  to 
which  Teresa  instantly  responded,  and  announced  himself  as 
Arturo,  her  brother-in-law.  He  had  come,  so  he  said,  in  search 
of  the  good  fortune  he  had  failed  to  find  as  a  soldier  in  Italy. 
There  was  nothing  remarkable  about  him  except  that  he  was 
entirely  uncomplicated  and  still  at  sea  as  to  his  plans  and  ex- 
pectations. His  gifts  were  the  modest  but  dependable  ones  of 
honesty,  industry,  and  pride,  leavened  by  a  detached  and  hu- 
morous slant  he  threw  even  upon  his  misfortunes.  Helplessness 
was  always  provocative  for  Teresa.  She  at  once  made  it  her 
duty  to  see  that  he  was  properly  clothed  and  introduced. 

It  did  not  take  Arturo  long  to  feel  the  disharmony  existing 
in  his  brother's  household,  nor  to  become  aware  of  its  cause. 
That  anyone  could  wish  to  maltreat  a  person  as  ravishing  as  his 
sister-in-law  was  beyond  his  comprehension.  He  in  his  turn  ap- 


172  TERESA  CARRENO 

pointed  himself  Teresa's  protector-in-chief,  and  wedged  him- 
self in,  a  willing  buffer,  to  lessen  the  shock  of  domestic  con- 
troversy from  whichever  side  it  might  originate. 

In  nearly  every  crisis  he  found  himself  on  Teresa's  side,  and 
at  last  he  came  to  agree  with  Mrs.  Watson  that  the  only  hope 
for  peace  lay  in  separation  once  and  for  all,  preferably  with  an 
ocean  between.  He  played  with  the  children,  who  adored  him, 
and  he  was  daily  in  and  out  of  the  house,  for  Teresa  took  com- 
fort in  his  presence,  sympathizing  with  his  predicaments.  No 
matter  how  earnestly  he  tried,  Arturo,  hampered  by  a  strange 
language,  by  different  habits  of  life,  and  by  the  fact  that  he  had 
never  been  trained  for  anything  in  particular,  was  not  able  to 
find  work  that  was  either  interesting  or  remunerative.  He  went 
along  his  slow,  laborious  way  patiently  and  uncomplainingly, 
earning  little  beyond  a  living  wage,  keeping  his  simple  room 
with  artistic  economy  as  neat  as  a  convent.  To  live  frugally  was 
no  special  deprivation  to  Arturo.  He  was  as  vain  as  any  other 
young  Italian  soldier  of  fortune,  but  he  did  not  indulge  his 
vanity  at  any  expense  but  his  own.  He  was  more  inclined,  when 
he  had  saved  a  little,  to  buy  a  toy  for  the  children  or  a  bunch  of 
flowers  for  the  mother  just  returned  from  a  concert  journey. 

After  the  Venezuelan  interlude  Teresa  seemed  possessed  by 
the  drive  to  practice  hours  upon  end.  To  her  friends  her  play- 
ing had  never  sounded  better.  MacDowell  appeared  more  and 
more  often  upon  her  programs — he  had  been  introduced  even 
to  Venezuela  by  way  of  the  "Hexentanz" — and  the  D  minor 
concerto  still  in  manuscript  was  taking  shape  under  her  fingers. 

Shortly  after  their  marriage  in  1884  the  young  MacDowells 
visited  London,  primarily  to  attend  every  possible  performance 
in  which  Henry  Irving  and  Ellen  Terry  took  part.  On  account 
of  Marian  MacDowell's  poor  eyesight  they  were  obliged  to  sit 
in  the  most  expensive  seats,  their  one  great  extravagance.  Out 
of  this  experience  there  evolved  a  composition  written  in  hom- 
age to  Henry  Irving,  meant  as  a  musical  character  sketch  of 
Ellen  Terry,  an  airy  scherzo  for  piano  duet.  Lacking  courage  to 


TERESA  CARRENO  173 

approach  Henry  Irving,  MacDovvell  let  this  work  lie  dormant 
until,  later  on  in  Germany,  it  became  the  Scherzo  of  the  "Con- 
certo in  D  minor,"  dedicated  to  Carreno.  It  was  eminently  right 
that  she  should  be  the  first  to  play  it  publicly.  A  double  joy  was 
in  store. 

Theodore  Thomas,  who  rarely  admitted  soloists  to  his  Sum- 
mer Night  Concerts  in  Chicago,  made  an  exception  in  favor  of 
Teresa,  inviting  her  to  play  the  MacDowell  "Concerto"  under 
his  baton  on  July  5,  1888.  That  her  friend  of  long  ago  had  not 
thought  her  worthy  of  taking  part  in  any  of  his  concerts  since 
her  return  to  America  had  given  Teresa  many  unhappy  hours. 
This  at  last  was  ample  compensation.  Not  only  was  she  to  be 
his  assisting  artist,  but  she  was  to  collaborate  with  him  in  bring- 
ing out,  for  the  first  time  anywhere,  the  "Concerto"  which 
was  already  peculiarly  her  own.  How  much  this  appearance 
meant  to  her  is  clearly  shown  in  her  letter  of  thanks,  published 
in  the  biography  of  Rose  Fay  Thomas.  She  wrote  timidly,  hum- 
bly. 

Chicago,  July  6,  1888 
Dear  Mr.  Thomas : 

It  would  have  given  me  the  greatest  pleasure  to  come  to  see  you 
this  morning  instead  of  writing,  but  knowing  how  pressed  for  time 
you  are,  I  deprived  myself  of  this  pleasure,  thinking  that  you  would 
feel  thankful  that  I  did  not  come  to  take  away  your  valuable  time 
from  your  numerous  occupations. 

I  only  wish  to  thank  you  from  all  my  heart  once  more  for  the 
kindness  and  consideration  with  which  you  treated  me  yesterday, 
and  to  tell  you  how  proud  and  happy  I  feel  that  once  again  I  have 
been  allowed  the  pleasure  and  privilege  of  playing  under  your  mas- 
terly baton. 

Let  me  also  thank  you  in  Edward  MacDowell's  name,  who  feels 
highly  honored  that  his  composition  should  have  come  under  your 
notice,  and  that  it  should  have  been  brought  before  the  public  under 
your  leadership. 

I  sincerely  hope  that  I  may  have  the  pleasure  of  seeing  you  again, 
and  if  I  may  I  will  come  and  knock  at  your  door  when  you  are  in 


174  TERESA  CARRENO 

New  York,  and  hope  that  you  will  always  look  upon  me  as  the 
same  little  girl  whose  tottering  footsteps  in  her  profession  you,  with 
your  powerful  hand,  were  the  first  to  guide  and  support. 

Yours  very  sincerely, 

Teresa  Carreno 

Besides  making  Teresa  newly  conscious  of  her  powers,  this 
occasion  crystallized  the  determination  in  Ginka  Watson's 
mind  that  something  must  be  done  at  once  to  free  her  friend 
from  an  impossible  situation  at  home,  and  to  send  her  to  Ger- 
many, where  under  Tapsig  she  herself  had  studied. 

In  the  winter  season  of  1888  Teresa  for  the  first  time  joined 
the  Redpath  Lyceum  Circuit,  the  oldest  of  its  kind  in  the 
United  States,  and  toured  through  the  Middle  West  together 
with  her  old  associates,  Emma  Juch,  Hope  Glenn,  and  Lich- 
tenberg,  the  violinist,  using  her  usual  repertoire  and  meeting 
with  her  usual  success.  The  announcements  stated  that  "the 
extent  of  her  popularity  makes  her  a  public  educator,  and  that 
she  computes  to  have  averaged  more  than  150  concerts  a  year, 
making  about  1650  concerts  in  eleven  years."  Though  this  may 
safely  be  considered  a  manager's  gross  exaggeration,  it  is  true 
that  Teresa's  record  was  unbroken  by  a  single  year  of  relaxation 
from  concert  routine,  and  in  spite  of  the  birth  of  many  children, 
it  exceeded  in  all  probability  that  of  any  pianist,  male  or  female, 
of  that  decade  in  the  United  States. 

Among  Ginka's  students  was  Helen,  daughter  of  N.  K.  Fair- 
bank.  Both  father  and  daughter  were  fervent  admirers  of  Te- 
resa's playing,  and  so  it  was  to  Helen  that  Mrs.  Watson  decided 
to  confide  her  hopes  for  Teresa's  future.  She  agreed  that  Teresa 
could  not  find  true  appreciation  as  an  artist  in  the  United  States 
as  long  as  she  was  a  member  of  Lyceum  Circuits  and  other  such 
combinations,  that  her  home  life  was  intolerable,  that  the 
emergency  called  for  immediate  action.  Helen  made  up  her 
mind  to  ask  her  genial  father  for  help.  It  was  not  the  first  time 
that  he  had  been  approached  in  the  interest  of  a  musician  in 
distress.  When  his  daughter  told  him  that  it  was  imperative  for 


TERESA  CARRENO  175 

Teresa  to  have  $5,000  at  once,  and  that  he  must  be  the  one  to 
lend  it  to  her,  he  laughed  aloud. 

"It  is  against  my  principles  to  lend  money  to  an  artist.  As  far 
as  I  am  concerned  I  might  as  well  throw  it  outright  into  Lake 
Michigan.  Never  yet  has  any  one  of  them  returned  a  cent  of 
any  loan  I  made  him."  His  daughter's  hopes  crumbled  at  this 
abrupt  dismissal.  "But  I  happen  to  like  this  woman,  and  I  want 
her  to  succeed.  She  shall  have  the  money,"  he  concluded.  To- 
gether the  two  friends  drew  up  the  message  that  spelled  free- 
dom for  Teresa. 

In  New  York  Arturo  happened  to  be  with  Teresa  when  the 
telegram  came.  It  was  he  who  was  immediately  aflame  with 
enthusiasm.  "Teresita,  you  must  go.  Never  will  such  an  op- 
portunity come  a  second  time.  Make  up  your  mind  at  once 
while  Giovanni  is  away."  Teresa  was  unconvinced.  Her  last  ad- 
venture had  turned  out  badly.  What  reason  had  she  to  expect 
a  better  outcome  for  this.  She  heard  herself  saying,  "How  could 
I  ever  hope  to  repay  such  a  sum?"  "No  need  to  worry  about 
that,"  urged  Arturo.  "There  will  be  no  difficulty  once  you  are 
known  in  Germany.  Think  of  your  children!  For  them  alone 
you  must  accept,  whatever  the  risk.  I  shall  not  leave  this  room 
until  you  do."  Before  he  had  finished  Teresa  knew  what  her 
decision  would  be.  "May  the  dear  Father  in  Heaven  help  me," 
she  said,  as  she  signed  her  name,  less  boldly  than  usual,  to  the 
ending  of  another  chapter.  Arturo  triumphantly  departed  with 
the  telegram.  His  step  was  elated  and  light.  The  sense  that  her 
departure  would  spell  inevitable  personal  loss  was  not  yet  upon 
him.  Teresa,  left  alone,  was  overcome  with  dread.  Her  respect 
for  everything  that  Germany  meant  in  music  reached  the  point 
of  veneration.  Could  she  hope  to  measure  up  to  its  standards  as 
an  artist?  German  criticism  was  often  devastating,  she  knew. 
Could  she  consider  herself  ready  to  face  it  confidently?  She 
must  have  time  for  preparation.  And  yet  on  Tag's  account,  if 
on  no  other,  there  must  be  no  delay.  Arturo  agreed  that  a  few 
months  in  Paris  with  Manuel,  now  risen  to  the  dignity  of 
Secretary  of  the  Venezuelan  legation,  would  be  advisable.  Tag 


176  TERESA  CARRENO 

returned  to  a  fait  accompli,  and,  not  suspecting  that  the  separa- 
tion was  meant  to  be  final,  was  persuaded  to  consent  without 
difficulty.  He  begged  to  be  taken.  But  that  was  a  mistake  Teresa 
would  never  make  again. 

Friends  did  their  utmost  to  hasten  the  departure  for  fear  that 
something  might  happen  to  prevent  it.  When  one  day  in  early 
July  of  1889  Teresa  found  herself  standing  on  the  deck  of  the 
steamer  Gallia,  bound  for  England,  Mrs.  MacDowell  and  her 
husband  comfortingly  by  her  side  as  fellow  passengers,  it  was 
as  if  she  had  been  catapulted  there  by  a  force  outside  herself. 
Tag,  hidden  behind  a  huge  bouquet  of  flowers,  seemed  as  un- 
real as  the  country  of  her  destination.  Until  the  last  moment 
little  Giovanni,  in  tears,  had  to  be  kept  from  running  back  to 
his  father.  Arturo  held  his  breath  until  connection  with  land 
was  completely  severed.  Not  until  then  did  he  take  time  to 
think  of  himself.  As  the  ship  took  its  measured  way  and  disap- 
peared, he  became  poignantly  aware  that  the  day  had  darkened. 
Tag  returned  to  his  house,  to  the  emptiness  that  Teresa  had  so 
overflowingly  filled,  quickly  shook  off  his  lonesomeness,  and 
set  off  in  his  usual  manner  to  make  the  most  of  his  unshackled 
leisure. 

Then  more  than  now  an  ocean  journey  was  the  chance  of  all 
others  to  take  spiritual  inventory.  The  long,  placid  days  in  the 
steamer  chair  made  Teresa  for  the  first  time  conscious  of  her- 
self as  an  entity.  No  longer  was  she  Teresita  to  be  adopted  or 
discarded  at  will,  nor  Teresa  to  be  bullied  or  protected.  "I  am 
Carreno,"  came  the  echo  of  a  happier,  younger  voice,  and  she 
said  it  again  with  firmer  assurance,  with  better  understanding. 
She  would  shape  her  own  destiny,  live  her  own  life,  however 
buffeted,  undisturbed  and  unafraid.  In  her  mirror  she  took  the 
lines  of  her  face  under  scrutiny.  Disenchantment  had  straight- 
ened them,  pointed  them,  deepened  them,  hardened  them.  De- 
termination should  keep  them  so.  That  she  was  still  lavishly 
beautiful  she  scarcely  noticed.  It  had  never  added  to  her  hap- 
piness. 

Arrived  in  London  on  July  13,  1889,  she  deposited  her  money 


TERESA  CARRENO  177 

and  in  bold  strokes  signed  her  name  simply  "Teresa  Car- 
reno,"  in  official  abdication  of  marital  ties.  Life  in  an  Eng- 
lish hotel  of  the  most  conservative  type  soon  made  it  apparent 
that  her  children's  manners  left  much  to  be  desired.  Giovanni, 
when  left  unattended,  took  delight  in  investigating  all  the  mech- 
anisms new  to  him,  even  to  pulling  the  chains  of  the  toilets. 
It  was  quite  as  embarrassing  to  have  the  young  tornadoes  burst 
upon  the  quiet  of  the  dining  room,  shrieking  with  wild  excite- 
ment. The  disapproving  eyes  of  all  England  seemed  focused 
upon  her  as  they  were  sent  from  the  room  in  disgrace. 


Once  in  Paris  bitter  memories  reawakened.  Teresa  was  little 
tempted  to  renew  old  ties.  She  meant  to  build  a  new  life,  but 
not  on  the  ashes  of  another.  Only  one  simple  duty  was  kept 
uppermost  in  all  her  planning,  that  of  preparing  with  all  con- 
centration for  her  Berlin  debut  in  the  fall.  Her  six  long  hours 
of  daily  practice  were  of  a  more  thorough  searching  kind  than 
any  she  had  known  before.  She  meant  to  discover  what  her  best 
really  was.  For  she  must  knock  at  the  gate  of  the  wrorld's  strong- 
est musical  citadel,  armed  with  no  less  a  weapon.  Only  by  this 
arduous  road  could  she  earn  her  way  to  that  new  independence 
through  which  she  would  be  able  to  bring  up  her  children  in 
peace.  And  how  delicious  to  be  for  the  first  time  in  her  life 
really  free,  free  to  use  the  ample  sums  lying  in  London  to  her 
credit,  accountable  to  no  other  person.  Best  of  all,  with  the 
country  of  her  destination  she  would  have  not  a  single  con- 
nection, not  even  that  of  language.  She  saw  herself  a  diver 
standing  on  a  cliff,  giving  a  last  glance  far  down  at  the  still 
surface  that  in  a  moment  would  be  shaken  into  flowing  motion. 
Who  could  foretell  the  shape  or  the  direction  of  those  wave 
patterns  ?  How  far  might  they  not  reach ! 

On  July  22  Carreno  rented  an  apartment  in  the  Avenue  Mac- 
Mahon.  Manuel  lived  in  the  same  house.  For  the  furnished 
entresol  and  first  Stage  she  payed  750  francs  a  month.  While 
she  practiced  and  Josephine  did  the  cooking,  the  children  were 
most  often  to  be  found  with  Rosie.  Carreno  felt  the  sting  of 
jealousy.  On  one  occasion,  when  the  children  had  returned  late 
from  a  thrilling  visit  above,  Carreno  could  be  heard  from 
Manuel's  apartment  scolding  in  her  penetrating  mezzo:  "If  you 
like  it  better  with  your  aunt,  you  might  just  as  well  pack  your 
bags,  and  move  up  there  altogether." 

There  were  drives  through  the  Bois  de  Boulogne.  Once,  poor 
as  she  was,  she  had  walked  as  a  celebrity  along  the  very 
ways  where  now  she  rode  forgotten.  There  were  fascinating 
mornings  of  shopping  for  hats  and  dresses  and  corsets.  Mme. 


TERESA  CARRENO  179 

Mulot-Larcheveque,  23  Boulevard  des  Capucines,  designed  two 
concert  gowns,  one  of  mother-of-pearl  velvet,  the  other  of  em- 
broidered creamy  yellow  silk.  Each  made  her  the  poorer  by 
850  francs,  but  the  new  Carreno  must  be  suitably  gowned.  This 
was  as  justifiable  as  the  expense  of  having  photographs  taken 
of  Teresita  and  Giovanni,  separately  and  together. 

Of  these  months  of  adjustment  Teresa's  letter  to  her  friend, 
Carrie  Keating,  gives  the  most  valid  resume.  It  is  dated  October 
4,  1889. 

As  I  presume  you  would  like  to  know  what  I  have  done  since  the 
3rd  of  July,  I  will  tell  you.  We  had  a  beautiful  trip  across,  and 
(wonderful  to  relate!)  I  was  hardly  seasick  at  all.  It  is  true  that 
Mrs.  MacDowell  was  so  courageous  and  did  so  well,  that  I  could  not 
very  well  do  less  than  follow  her  example.  We  arrived  in  London  on 
the  13th  of  July,  and  remained  there  nine  days.  We  did  London 
pretty  thoroughly  and  it  gave  me  the  greatest  pleasure  to  see  all 
the  old  familiar  places  of  my  childhood  and  girlhood  again  after  so 
many  years.  Mrs.  MacDowell  and  I  went  to  visit  the  different  places 
at  which  I  lived  and  my  heart  ached  again  for  the  old  times  when  my 
poor  father  was  by  my  side. 

We  reached  here  on  the  22nd  of  July,  found  Emanuel  and  his  wife 
waiting  most  impatiently  for  us  with  arms  opened.  You  have  no  idea 
what  a  surprise  I  gave  them,  for  they  had  no  idea  of  my  coming  here 
until  they  received  a  telegram  which  I  sent  from  London  the  day 
after  we  reached  there.  Emanuel  looks  better  than  ever;  he  has  grown 
very  much  stouter  and  looks  all  the  better  for  it,  and  is  the  same 
dear  good  boy,  now  with  all  the  qualities  of  a  good  man  and  all 
the  boyishness  left  behind.  His  wife  is  a  most  lovely  girl,  and  when 
I  think  of  the  outrageous  things  that  were  told  me  about  her  I  feel 
like  going  home  and  cutting  the  tongues  of  the  \naves  who  said 
them.  She  is  one  of  the  best  and  dearest  girls  you  ever  heard  of,  and 
I  am  anxious  for  you  to  know  her.  They  are  as  happy  together  as  the 
day  is  long,  and  it  does  my  heart  good  to  see  them  so.  Manuel's  posi- 
tion here  is  very  nice,  and  they  enjoy  themselves  immensely  as  of 
course,  Emanuel  being  Secretary  of  the  Legation,  this  gives  them 
many  an  opportunity  of  enjoying  themselves. 

I  have  been  here  ever  since.  First  I  had  an  apartment  in  the  same 
house  with  Emanuel,  3  Avenue  MacMahon,  close  to  this  one,  and 


180  TERESA  CARRENO 

now  have  taken  this  one  until  Nov.  ist  when  I  go  to  Berlin.  Of  music 
I  have  heard  little.  In  London  I  heard  Verdi's  Otello  given  exactly 
as  it  was  given  when  first  produced  in  Milan,  all  with  the  exception 
of  the  prima  donna  who  was  very  fair.  Tamagno's  voice  is  magnificent, 
specially  in  the  upper  notes,  and  Maurel's  Iago  histrionically  is  worthy 
of  Salvini.  His  voice  is  no  longer  what  it  was,  but  he  is  such  a  great 
artist  that  he  makes  you  forget  that.  As  to  the  Orchestra  and  Chorus 
I  never  heard  the  like.  The  Orchestra  specially  fairly  took  me  off  my 
seat. 

Here  there  is  nothing  but  the  "Exposition,"  and  specially  the  "Eiffel 
Tower."  People  dream  of  it,  eat  on  it,  speak  of  nothing  else  and  wear 
it  in  every  way  conceivable,  until  at  last  you  seem  to  be  surrounded 
by  a  lot  of  maniacs.  In  all  justice  we  must  say  that  all  this  fun  is  well 
deserved,  for  it  is  a  most  marvelous  piece  of  engineering,  but  you  get 
a  little  tired  of  hearing  so  much  about  it. 

Mr.  and  Mrs.  MacDowell,  my  sister-in-law  and  I  went  one  day  to 
the  very  top,  and  the  sight  was  grand.  The  Exhibition  itself  is 
very  interesting,  but  I  have  not  been  able  to  see  as  much  of  it  as 
I  should  have  liked.  I  shall  go  again  before  it  closes  and  see  some 
more. 

My  first  appearance  will  take  place  in  Berlin  at  my  own  Concert, 
assisted  by  the  Philharmonic  Orchestra,  on  the  18th  of  November. 
The  friends  of  the  family  are  requested  to  pray  for  the  occasion! 
How  I  wish  you  were  here  with  me  then,  and  now  and  ever!  Do  you 
think  you'll  come  over  next  summer  ?  If  I  stay,  I  hope  you  will  come, 
but  to  tell  you  the  truth,  Carrie  dearest,  I  am  so  dreadfully  awfully 
homesick  that  I  hope  next  summer,  if  I  live,  will  see  me  in  America, 
for  there  is  no  land  to  me  like  the  United  States,  no  people  like  the 
Americans.  God  bless  them!  They  have  no  idea  how  much  I  love 
them.  I  paid  a  visit  to  my  dear  old  friend  Gounod,  and  you  have  no 
idea  how  cordially,  how  affectionately  he  received  me.  He  played  for 
me  his  last  composition  "mon  dernier  enfant"  as  he  called  it,  a  most 
beautiful  orchestral  composition,  and  made  me  play  for  him  on  his 
Steinway  grand  of  which  he  is  awfully  proud,  and  told  me  I  was 
the  first  person  he  had  ever  allowed  to  play  on  his  piano  besides 
himself.  Wasn't  that  flattering,  and  wasn't  it  good  of  him?  He  is 
not  only  a  great  man  but  he  is  a  great  good  man!  I  can't  tell  you 
how  much  true  pleasure  I  derived  from  this  visit  which  lasted  two 
hours  for  he  would  not  let  me  go  sooner.  .  .  . 


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TERESA  CARRENO  181 

Another  letter,  a  copy  of  which  Teresa  kept  in  her  business 
files,  was  addressed  to  her  friend  of  Boston  days,  Hans  von 
Biilow.  It  read: 

Cher  Maitre: — Je  ne  me  doutais  guere  que  la  prochaine  fois  que 
j'aurais  le  plaisir  de  vous  ecrire  ce  serait  de  Paris,  c'est  a  dire  que  je 
me  trouverais  en  Europe  si  pres  de  vous.  Comme  vous  voyez  je  me 
trouve  a  Paris  et  je  ne  veux  que  vous  le  sachiez  par  personne  d'autre 
que  par  moi-meme,  et  je  viens  par  ces  lignes  vous  envoyer  mes  bons 
souhaits.  Je  suis  venue  en  Europe  pour  me  faire  entendre  et,  si  je 
peux,  faire  quelques  engagements  de  concert.  Le  18  du  mois  prochain 
je  donne  mon  premier  concert  a  Berlin,  et  j'ose  esperer  que  j'aurais  le 
plaisir  de  vous  voir  a  Berlin  pendant  mon  sejour.  Je  vous  prie  de 
continuer  cette  bonte  et  amitie  que  vous  m'avez  toujours  temoignees 
et  qui  m'honorent  tant,  et  je  me  mets  sous  votre  aile  protectrice! 

Veuillez  presenter  a  Madame  von  Biilow  mes  meilleurs  souvenirs 
et,  agreez,  je  vous  prie,  l'assurance  de  mes  meilleurs  sentiments 
d'amitie  et  d'admiration. 

Teresa  decided  to  confront  Berlin  unattended,  which  meant 
finding  a  place  where  the  children  could  safely  board  with 
Josephine  and  be  given  their  first  schooling  besides.  In  Mont- 
morency at  the  highly  respectable  Institution  de  Demoiselles, 
directed  by  two  maiden  ladies,  Miles.  Penache  and  Degrouel, 
the  ideal  place  was  found.  Carreno  was  already  in  touch  with 
Berlin's  foremost  impresario,  Hermann  Wolff,  whom  she 
found  to  her  relief  as  much  at  home  in  French  as  in  German, 
and  quite  able  to  advise  her  about  anything  from  concert  halls 
and  programs  to  a  suitable  pied-a-terre. 

One  evening  in  late  October  Teresa  Carreno  descended  from 
her  train  into  the  jumble  of  sounds  and  odors  that  was  Ger- 
many. Somehow  she  managed  to  reach  the  Askanischer  Hof 
safely,  if  in  a  daze.  Herr  Wolff  had  chosen  well.  It  was  a  place 
frequented  mainly  by  those  of  artistic  profession,  adequate  and 
moderate  in  price.  On  the  top  floor,  the  one  where  she  could 
best  practice  without  disturbing  others,  there  was  a  room  large 
enough  to  accommodate  an  upright  piano  on  the  side  of  the 


182  TERESA  CARRENO 

house  facing  the  court.  From  Paris  she  had  brought  an  an- 
noying cold  which  increased  her  loneliness.  There  was  no  use 
in  trying  to  make  an  impression  upon  her  German  impresario 
in  that  state.  She  would  use  the  time  of  her  isolation  in  learning 
German.  Mornings  while  her  room  was  being  put  in  order  she 
made  a  habit  of  reciting  German  phrases  aloud,  interspersed 
with  penetrating  sneezes,  as  she  paced  up  and  down  in  the  un- 
heated  corridor.  Her  neighbors  were  mystified  to  hear  a  voice 
repeating  with  insistent  determination:  "Ich  bezahle  meine 
Rechnung  nicht.  Ich  bezahle  meine  Rechnung  nichtl — Hap- 
chi,  Hap-chi,  Hap-chi!!!" 

In  the  front  room  across  the  hall  lived  Frau  Koch  and  her 
daughter  Emma.  The  mother  was  a  typical  German  Hausfrau, 
whose  outlook  accommodated  itself  easily  to  the  limits  of  her 
four  walls.  Her  daughter  Emma  had  a  wider  horizon.  She  had 
studied  under  the  Master  Liszt,  and  had  made  occasional  ex- 
cursions into  the  concert  field,  in  which  she  acquitted  herself 
creditably,  even  accompanying  Joachim  on  one  memorable 
tour.  Now  she  had  settled  down  to  the  more  sedate  and  profit- 
able life  of  a  music  teacher  a  la  Liszt,  chaperoned  by  her  ultra- 
conservative  mother,  whose  views  on  most  subjects  she  shared. 

"Hap-chi!  Ich  bezahle  meine  Rechnung  nicht,"  insisted  the 
decidedly  foreign  and  forceful  voice.  There  was  no  doubt  that 
she  meant  it,  whoever  it  was.  Frau  Koch's  curiosity  was  aroused. 
She  opened  her  door.  Carreno,  believing  that  she  had  un- 
wittingly made  herself  objectionable,  apologized,  bad  German 
mixed  with  bad  cold.  At  least  she  could  offer  this  peculiar  per- 
son temporary  warmth  in  a  room  cozily  heated  by  the  efficient 
tile  stove.  Undoubtedly  she  would  then  discover  why  it  was 
that  the  lady  so  loudly  refused  to  pay  her  bill.  Frau  Koch  had 
not  expected  to  find  her  guest  so  sympathetic.  Both  laughed 
heartily  over  the  misunderstanding,  and  Carreno  was  delighted 
to  be  able  to  drop  into  accustomed  French.  As  the  days  passed, 
the  cold  vanished  under  the  care  of  her  neighbors,  and  the 
concert  loomed  closer,  this  acquaintance  ripened  into  intimacy. 
Carreno  took  pains  to  consult  the  Kochs  about  the  thousands 


TERESA  CARRENO  183 

of  details  connected  with  her  concert.  But  in  the  end  she  meant 
to  do  as  she  herself  pleased. 

Hermann  Wolff  and  Louise,  his  wife,  whose  caustic  wit 
made  many  within  the  musical  fraternity  uncomfortable,  were 
not  slow  in  falling  under  the  spell  of  a  personality  so  refresh- 
ingly different  from  the  ones  that  usually  met  in  their  drawing 
room.  Wolff,  in  spite  of  his  easy-going  joviality,  was  an  astute 
manager.  Teresa  was  impressed.  The  two  together  played  the 
intricate  game  of  artist  versus  impresario  with  friendly  and 
skillful  rivalry.  They  crossed  verbal  swords  in  sharp  thrust  and 
parry,  thoroughly  enjoying  their  differences  and  readjustments, 
and  remained  close  friends  for  life  in  spite  or  because  of  them. 
Hermann  Wolff  was  a  businessman  with  the  soul  of  an  artist, 
Carreno  an  artist  trained  by  hard  experience  to  count  the  cost. 
Now  more  than  ever,  in  order  to  meet  her  obligation  to  Mr. 
Fairbank,  she  must  hold  her  own  financially.  She  must  not  let 
herself  be  flattered  or  fooled.  The  two  close  antagonists  re- 
spected the  qualities  that  each  represented,  and  avoided  danger- 
ous misunderstanding  on  the  common  ground  of  humorous 
give  and  take.  Their  letters  are  full  of  witty  badinage. 

Nobody  knew  better  than  Hermann  Wolff  how  to  promote 
interest  in  a  new  artist  and  how  to  direct  gossip  in  spinning  her 
magic  web.  From  Louise's  day-at-home  there  emanated  rumors 
of  a  full-blooded  South  American  Creole,  whose  romantic  epi- 
sodes were  the  talk  of  the  United  States.  Hints  of  this  kind  in- 
sinuated themselves  even  into  the  apartment  of  the  Kochs. 
Could  it  be  true  that  there  was  an  unlovely,  sordid  background 
in  the  life  of  this  beautiful  woman  whose  manners  were  so 
naturally  distinguished?  They  decided  to  withhold  judgment 
until  after  the  concert.  This  did  not  keep  Emma  from  feeling 
acutely  embarrassed  when  in  a  public  place  Teresa,  with  the 
familiarity  to  which  close  association  under  the  roof  of  the 
Askanischer  Hof  entitled  her,  took  Emma's  arm  to  walk  up 
and  down  during  the  intermission. 

Carreno  chose  the  Singakademie  for  its  intimate  atmosphere, 
and  for  its  great  tradition.  There  Rubinstein  and  Clara  Schu- 


184  TERESA  CARRENO 

mann  had  appeared  before  her.  It  was  with  such  as  these  that 
she  wished  to  be  compared.  The  custom  of  having  only  one 
soloist  in  a  concert  was  strange  but  to  her  liking.  Wolff  recom- 
mended a  debut  with  full  orchestral  background  as  the  most 
effective  introduction,  and  together  they  decided  upon  the 
Grieg  "Concerto"  with  the  accompaniment  of  the  Philharmonic 
Orchestra  under  the  baton  of  its  standing  conductor,  Herr 
Kogel.  Nobody  as  yet  had  heard  Carreno.  Wolff  had  insisted 
upon  that  and  wondered.  Could  a  person  who  had  never  had 
training  or  experience  in  Germany  succeed  with  a  German 
audience  ?  He  doubted  it.  But  after  all  the  risk  was  hers  alone, 
and  personally  he  liked  her  enough  to  do  all  he  could  to  create 
a  proper  setting.  From  the  United  States  came  letters  in  her  be- 
half, the  Venezuelan  colony  reserved  seats  in  a  block,  and  to 
the  surprise  of  Herr  Wolff  tickets  were  actually  selling  in  fair 
number. 

Among  the  few  letters  of  introduction  Teresa  had  found 
time  to  present  was  one  to  Emil  Breslauer,  editor  of  Der 
Klavierlehrer.  He  chose  the  night  before  her  concert  to  call 
upon  her,  and  Carreno,  increasingly  nervous  as  time  shortened, 
felt  that  she  needed  the  encouragement  of  a  neutral  colleague. 
She  offered  to  play  for  him,  and  he  listened  intently,  silently. 
There  was  no  doubt  that  he  was  stirred,  he  himself  did  not 
know  whether  with  pleasure  or  pain.  Very  different,  very  ab- 
sorbing he  admitted  it  to  be.  Then  the  pedantic  pedagogue 
raised  his  voice.  "But  your  technique  is  so  unusual.  We  in  Ger- 
many have  a  more  controlled  style,  do  not  let  ourselves  go  so 
extremely!"  And  he  proceeded  to  show  Carreno  how  the  con- 
servative German  virtuoso  was  accustomed  to  play  upon  the 
stage.  When  the  little  man  had  gone  Carreno  was  in  a  worse 
state  than  before.  She  had  never  given  much  thought  to 
method  and  technique,  had  just  played  as  was  most  convenient, 
as  it  brought  out  most  easily  what  she  meant  to  say.  In  America 
nobody  had  complained.  But  perhaps  there  was  something  to  be 
said  for  Breslauer's  point  of  view.  Once  more  she  sat  down  at 
the  piano,  trying  her  best  to  work  out  a  passage  according  to 


TERESA  CARRENO  185 

his  suggestions.  The  effect  failed  to  satisfy  her.  "There's  no 
use,"  she  thought,  as  she  gave  it  up  after  several  hours  of  effort. 
How  could  she  change  her  way  of  doing  overnight,  even  if  she 
knew  exactly  what  she  wanted!  Her  dreams,  when  she  finally 
fell  asleep,  were  disquieted  by  a  procession  of  gnomes  who 
hooted  her  off  the  stage  because  she  had  the  wrong  method. 

It  had  never  been  Carreno's  habit  to  practice  to  any  extent 
on  the  day  of  an  important  concert.  A  walk  in  the  Tiergarten 
and  good  news  of  the  children  from  Josephine  lifted  her  sag- 
ging spirits.  It  was  a  spiritless  day.  The  one  rehearsal  accorded 
her  had  gone  satisfactorily.  Herr  Kogel  had  seconded  her  well, 
and  the  orchestra  at  the  end  had  made  noises  of  approval.  The 
last  movement  of  the  "Concerto"  she  must  remember  to  take  at 
a  more  moderate  pace.  The  orchestra  had  been  left  breathlessly 
behind.  There  was  no  further  faltering.  The  grandniece  of 
Bolivar  would  cross  her  Andes  too.  As  eagerly,  though  not  so 
happily,  as  on  the  day  of  her  debut  in  Irving  Hall  she  watched 
the  sinking  of  the  day  that  would  pass  upon  her  worth  as  an 
artist.  No  candidate  ever  visualized  the  implications  of  success 
or  failure  more  clearly.  The  thought  of  her  yellow  Paris  gown 
of  crepe  de  Chine  cheered  her.  Would  she  look  more  beautiful 
in  it  than  in  the  simple  dress  of  white  her  mother  had  once 
made?  Was  this  the  same  little  girl  of  long  ago?  Then  her 
world  had  been  filled  by  her  piano  and  her  dolls.  Life  with  her 
piano  and  her  children  still  was  all  she  asked  for.  Then  she  had 
felt  within  her  that  she  would  play  her  best;  now  she  knew 
that  she  must  play  her  best,  for  the  sake  of  the  children  that 
needed  her,  for  the  sake  of  the  friends  who  believed  in  her,  for 
the  sake  of  her  own  inner  peace.  As  she  turned  from  the  win- 
dow against  which  her  imagination  heard  the  rain  prickling  as 
in  that  far-off  twilight  of  November,  1862,  she  seemed  again  to 
hear  a  voice:  "It  is  time  to  be  dressed  now,  Teresita." 


In  der  Massigung  zeigt  sich  der  Meister. 

Goethe 


PART  III 
ARTIST 


1AM  Carreno!"  The  Philharmonic  Orchestra  gave  the  con- 
cert its  official  and  perfunctory  opening  with  Mendels- 
sohn's "Overture"  to  Die  Schone  Melusine,  while  in  her 
cell  backstage  Carreno  strode  up  and  down,  clearly  aware  that 
she  was  facing  the  ultimate  test.  In  a  moment  she  must  be  able 
to  bring  Latin  and  Teuton  into  common  understanding,  or  re- 
turn to  the  untenable  life  of  yesterday.  Three  short  weeks  had 
convinced  her  that  musically  this  was  her  country,  that  per- 
sonally she  wanted  to  know  these  Germans  and  their  intricate 
language.  She  felt  that  here  idealism,  mental  thoroughness,  and 
orderly  economy  lived  together  in  helpful  harmony.  There  was 
much  for  her  to  learn.  She  must  not  fail  tonight.  How  long 
since  she  had  felt  ill  at  ease  and  humble  before  a  concert  as 
she  did  now!  The  Bechstein  seemed  a  foreign  instrument,  un- 
approachable and  menacing.  The  cigarette  in  her  hand  trem- 
bled. 

Hermann  Wolff  looked  in  to  assure  his  new  protegee  that 
there  was  a  fair  audience,  and  himself  that  all  was  well.  Too 
sensitive  to  the  reactions  of  artists  to  do  the  wrong  thing  at  a 
crucial  moment,  he  said  a  few  meaningless  words  that  suc- 
ceeded in  drawing  forth  an  unexpectedly  robust  and  healthy 
laugh  and  as  tactfully  disappeared.  This  exotic  beauty  had 
aroused  his  liking.  He  wished  her  well,  not  for  his  own  sake 
alone;  but  he  was  too  experienced  to  count  upon  anything  ante 
jestum.  What  he  had  heard  at  Carreno's  hands  had  impressed 
him,  but  what  of  her  nerves,  what  of  the  critics?  "Das  ver- 
dammte  Temperament"  he  growled  taking  his  seat  next  to  his 
wife.  Although  he  was  fond  of  music  and  of  people,  first  of  all 
he  was  a  businessman.  In  passing  he  took  in  his  audience.  The 
members  of  foreign  diplomatic  circles  stood  festively  out  from 
the  underfed  and  carelessly  assembled  music  students,  who, 
taking  their  passes  as  a  right,  felt  themselves  privileged  to  criti- 
cize with  double  severity  and  to  leave  at  the  first  tingle  of 
ennui. 

The  overture  was  finished.  Carreno  stood  with  nerves  quiver- 


COHCERTDIRECTION 
HERMANN  WOLFF. 


Montag,  den  18.  November  1889, 

Abends  7l/2  Uhr  pracise: 

Im  Saal  der  Singakademie 

CONCERT 

von 

Teresa  Carrefio 

mit  clem 

Berliner  Philharmonischen  Orchester 

iinter  Leitung  des 

Herrn  Kapellmeister  Gustav  F.  Kogel. 


Programm. 

1.  Ouverture  zum  ,,Marchen  von  der  schonen 

Melusine",  op.  32  .     .     . F.  Mendelssohn. 

2.  Concert  fur  Klavier  mit  Begleitung  des  Or- 

chesters  A-moll,  op.  16 Ed.  Grieg. 

Allegro  molto  moderate  —  Adagio.  — 
Allegro  moderate  molto  e  marcato  quasi  Presto. 

3.  Zwolf  symphonische  Etuden,  op.  13.     .    R.Schumann. 

4.  Andante  fur  Streichquartett P.  Tschaikowsky. 

5.  Polonaise  brillante  f  Klavier  mitBegleitung 

des  Orchesters Weber-Liszt. 

— — — c-ooggo-O-o- 

Concertfiugel:  Bechstein. 

W&hrend  der  Musik  bleiben  die  Saalthiiren  geschlossen. 

Billets  a  5,   3  und  2  Mark  sind  in  dei  Hof-Musikhandlung  der  Herren 
Ed.  Bote  &  G.  Book,  Leiptiger  Str.  37,   sowie  Abends  an  der  Kasse  zu  haben. 

_   . san 

« C7jfc3 — =» 

ttuchdi'ucktrei  der  ,,Volki.Z»itui>gu.    Ut.-Ges.  in  Htrlin,  L'utzoiritr.  lOi. 

Berlin  Debut  Program 


TERESA  CARRENO  191 

ing  for  the  touch  of  the  keys.  Barely  giving  Herr  Kogel  time 
to  take  his  stand  before  the  orchestra,  head  thrown  back,  tight- 
lipped,  she  crossed  the  stage  of  the  Singakademie,  upon  which 
Mendelssohn  had  so  often  made  the  great  Bach  live  again. 
From  the  middle  of  the  platform  she  measured  her  adversaries 
with  a  glance  that  radiated  force,  warmth,  and  magnetism. 
With  one  of  her  famous  bows,  all-inclusive  like  a  searchlight, 
traveling  down,  across,  and  up  again  in  slow  and  regal  ac- 
knowledgment of  the  applause  that  welcomed  her,  tamely  at 
first,  then  with  rising  intensity,  Carreno  won  over  many  an 
unbeliever  before  playing  a  single  note. 

Silence!  An  angry  rumble  of  the  kettledrums  and  Carreno 
was  off  to  the  attack.  Mightily  the  opening  cadenza  of  the 
Grieg  "Concerto"  thundered  and  reverberated  in  this  hall  of 
classic  aura,  like  cannon  roaring  out  of  quiet.  Backs  stiffened, 
eyes  sought  each  other  for  information,  for  confirmation.  Could 
this  be  a  woman  ?  Some  goddess  might  have  played  an  Olym- 
pian piano  like  this.  Geographically  the  music  unfolded  itself 
in  jagged  Nordic  vistas.  Fir-dotted  cliffs  disappeared  palisade- 
like in  dark  waters.  Caves  that  made  a  perfect  setting  for  the 
frolic  of  elves  and  trolls  undermined  stark  mountains.  Wher- 
ever Venezuelan  imagination  led,  this  composite  person,  the 
audience,  helplessly  followed.  Whatever  the  eye  saw,  that  the 
ear  heard;  in  such  perfect  harmony  meaning  and  motion 
blended.  One  deaf  to  sound  might  have  caught  the  flavor  of  the 
music  by  watching  the  changing  play  of  expression  that  edited 
each  mood  and  idea  as  Carreno  dreamed,  danced,  and  drove 
her  way  to  the  climax.  Attention  was  held  taut  until  the  final 
smashing  chord,  which  was  still  vibrating  when  the  audience 
let  go  in  frantic  applause  of  hand  and  foot,  punctuated  by 
bravos.  In  spite  of  themselves  the  critics  were  hypnotized  to 
join  in.  Under  their  very  noses  a  new  Lorelei  was  luring  Berlin 
to  fearful  depths.  By  some  illegitimate  magic — what  Bechstein 
had  ever  been  subjected  to  such  treatment — she  was  upsetting 
some  of  the  most  cherished  tenets  of  German  musical  faith, 
transcending  standards  of  accepted  good  taste.  In  the  last 


192  TERESA  CARRENO 

maestoso,  leaving  the  few  who  were  already  familiar  with 
Grieg's  score  openmouthed,  did  she  not  have  the  audacity  to 
change  the  master's  own  arpeggios  to  saber-rattling  octaves  ?  A 
dangerous  person,  the  more  so  for  her  incontestable  beauty! 

Again  in  her  cell,  now  become  her  sanctuary,  Carreno  flung 
a  shawl  about  her  shoulders.  Why  did  every  room  in  Germany 
have  to  have  a  different  temperature  from  its  neighbor  ?  Amer- 
ica could  teach  this  country  much  about  the  comforts  of  life. 
Shivering,  partly  from  cold,  partly  from  excitement,  Carreno 
began  to  take  inventory.  She  had  played  very  nearly  her  best; 
that  she  knew.  Her  audience  had  been  affected  strongly;  that 
she  sensed.  Could  it  be  that  they  were  making  fun  of  her  ? 

She  was  still  thinking  this  over  when  the  door  opened  slightly 
to  admit  the  head  of  a  very  subdued  Herr  Breslauer.  "Liebe 
Gnadige  Frau  Carreno,"  he  wailed.  "Ich  war  ein  Esel,  ein 
E-s-e-l!  Es  war  groszartig,  noch  nie  d  age  we  sen  groszartig!" 
The  ever-watchful  Herr  Wolff  cut  short  the  flow  of  compli- 
ment with  a  curt:  "A  plus  tard,  Monsieur,  Madame  doit  se  re- 
poser"  escorting  him  firmly  into  the  buzzing  hall.  Hardly  had 
they  taken  their  places  when  Carreno,  not  stopping  for  even 
a  glance  at  the  mirror,  stepped  out  before  her  judges  once 
again  to  face  her  hardest  task  unseconded,  the  "Symphonische 
Etuden"  of  Germany's  own  Schumann.  Still  ringing  in  their 
ears  must  be  the  authentic  interpretation  that  the  divine  Clara 
had  given  them,  or  the  more  robust  reading  of  Sophie  Menter. 
Berlin  knew  beyond  a  doubt  how  these  variations,  exploding 
with  difficulties,  should  sound.  It  was  temerity  indeed  to  at- 
tempt to  brave  the  enemy  in  the  heart  of  his  own  fortress !  The 
drawbridge  was  at  an  angle,  the  moat  wide  and  deep. 

Carreno  began.  She  announced  the  theme  slowly,  drily.  Im- 
peccably correct  it  was,  like  an  exercise.  Some  who  secretly  re- 
garded this  as  one  of  Schumann's  least  grateful  works  began  to 
dread  the  lengths  that  stretched  before.  Was  this  superwoman 
going  to  commit  the  unforgivable  sin  of  boring  her  listeners? 
Not  so!  Still  holding  temperament  in  check,  she  kept  her 
hearers  alert  with  biting,  sarcastic  accentuation  and  relentless 


TERESA  CARRENO  193 

rhythm,  little  by  little  abandoning  her  reserve,  building  up  her 
effects  with  the  assurance  only  he  can  have  who  recognizes 
space  and  time  as  servants  of  that  which  exists  timeless,  space- 
less, a  unit.  She  tossed  off,  laughed  off,  prodigious  difficulties. 
At  times  her  hands  moved  so  swiftly  from  her  stocky  wrists 
that  they  appeared  as  a  blur.  Impulsive  change  of  tempo  there 
was  in  plenty  and  notes  that  jangled  as  they  oversprang  the 
power  of  the  Bechstein,  but  no  mind  was  allowed  to  wander  in 
the  process.  Let  the  sensitive  jump,  let  the  pedant  be  shocked 
from  his  ruts.  Follow  he  must  through  the  pungent  pages  to  the 
very  end.  With  the  sharpness  of  steel  Carreno  stabbed  the  most 
stolid  listener  alive.  Soothing  gentleness,  eerie  loveliness,  that 
she  did  not  find  or  bring  this  night.  It  was  Carreno  fighting  for 
freedom.  The  ending  march  piled  climax  upon  climax  until 
with  a  last  accelerando  victory  was  hers,  leaving  exhausted  upon 
the  scene  all  but  the  pianist  herself.  The  critics,  usually  so 
voluble,  sat  speechless. 

Excitement  during  the  intermission  reached  the  decibels  of  a 
stock  exchange  in  session,  which  would  not  be  suppressed  even 
after  the  orchestral  interlude  until  Carreno  was  again  seated 
before  the  piano.  No  more  concessions,  no  more  restraint!  The 
Weber  "Polonaise,"  doubled  in  hazards  by  Liszt,  was  her  war 
horse.  She  rode  it  with  all  the  fire  and  fury  of  her  tempestuous 
being.  The  sparkle  of  her  runs  was  so  dazzling  that  some  in- 
stinctively closed  their  eyes.  Before  the  end  all  were  her  slaves. 
She  held  them  breathless,  as  she  made  an  incredibly  even,  swift, 
and  surging  trill  shiver  down  to  the  vanishing  point  at  her  own 
excess  of  leisure.  Then  one  rocketlike,  multicolored  flame  of 
sound,  and  it  was  finished. 

Aloofly  she  accepted  the  homage  of  flowers,  bowing  in  a  com- 
prehensive sweep,  as  if  condescending  to  acknowledge  herself 
the  unchallenged  superior  of  her  captives.  Returning  time  after 
time  in  response  to  demonstrations  that  grew  more  and  more 
hysterical,  she  wondered  again,  "Are  they  making  fun  of  me?" 
Seeing  people  crowded  around  the  stage,  waving  their  handker- 
chiefs, standing  on  the  seats,  stamping  on  the  floor,  they  re- 


i94  TERESA  CARRENO 

minded  her  of  a  mob  of  Venezuelans  in  revolution.  It  took  all 
the  vocabulary  of  Herr  Wolff  to  convince  her  that  she  was,  in- 
deed, a  success.  In  the  Garderobe  after  the  janitor  had  dimmed 
the  hall  lights,  and  later  on  in  the  streets,  that  miraculous  trill 
was  still  the  universal  topic. 

In  the  cool  of  night  the  critics  found  time  for  more  dispas- 
sionate reflection.  They  were  one  and  all  obliged  to  grant  that 
here  was  a  pianist  to  be  reckoned  with,  at  least  potentially  one 
of  the  first  water.  They  marveled,  if  not  without  reservation,  at 
her  endurance,  her  daring  individuality.  What  of  it,  if  her  tone 
lacked  richness  and  delicacy,  if  her  tempi  were  too  erratic,  if 
she  dealt  in  extremes  beyond  the  measure  called  for  by  tradi- 
tion! They  called  her  the  "lioness  of  the  keyboard,"  "Briinn- 
hilde,  the  Walkiire,"  a  name  that  accompanied  her  through 
life.  Typical  was  the  review  of  the  Allgemeine  Musi\zeitung. 

...  It  is  long  since  I  have  heard  a  pianiste  who  has  attracted  me  as 
completely  as  Frau  Carreno.  Here  at  last  comes  an  independent 
personality,  standing  out  from  among  so  much  mediocre  talent, 
which,  neatly  combed  and  brushed,  pervades  the  wide  avenues  of 
prevailing  pianism.  With  complete  and  blinding  technical  virtuosity, 
with  strength  sufficient  for  two  pianists,  and  with  an  uncommonly 
and  strongly  sculptured  sense  of  rhythm,  Frau  Carreno  combines 
spiritual  freedom  and  independence  of  interpretation,  which  lifts  her 
far  above  mere  pianism  into  the  realm  of  true  art.  Everything  about 
this  woman,  speaking  from  an  artistic  point  of  view,  is  tailored  to 
extraordinary  measure,  and  therefore  I  understand  that  many  of  her 
listeners  are  repelled  by  the  power  of  this  presence,  which  has  nothing 
feminine,  and  yet  again  nothing  unbeautiful,  or  unnatural  in  its 
artistic  expression.  Comparing  Frau  Carreno  with  the  average  pi- 
aniste, she  stands  out  as  a  Briinnhilde  against  one  of  the  "flappers" 
of  our  time,  and  if  this  Apollonic  Wishmaiden  upsets  our  comfortable 
Philistinism  somewhat  with  the  crackling  flame  of  her  passionate 
nature,  a  call  for  help  may  be  in  order  on  the  part  of  endangered  con- 
ventionality, but  it  will  not  affect  the  victorious  and  compelling  art 
of  this  tower  of  strength.  I  do  not  doubt  that  the  guild  of  critics  may 
dwell  upon  certain  unevennesses,  but  I  confess  openly  that  it  is  re- 
pugnant to  me,  still  under  the  impression  of  the  brilliant  achievement 


TERESA  CARRENO  195 

attained  by  Frau  Carreno  in  the  Grieg  "Concerto  in  A  minor,"  the 
"Symphonic  Studies"  of  Schumann,  and  the  Polacca  of  Weber  in  E, 
arranged  by  Liszt,  to  weigh  with  academic  coolness  the  pros  and  cons 
of  some  individual  tempi,  or  of  a  possible  excess  of  force.  Instead  I 
am  delighted  once  again  at  last  to  have  chanced  upon  a  pianiste  in 
whose  soul  something  unusual  is  happening,  which  materialized 
musically  in  its  own  special  way.  The  Philharmonic  Orchestra  under 
the  direction  of  Herr  Kogel  accompanied  the  Grieg  "Concerto"  very 
well.  In  the  "Polonaise,"  it  did  not  follow  the  rhythmic  nuances  with 
which  the  soloist  enhanced  it,  sympathetically  enough.  I  hope  that 
after  the  stormy  and  endearing  applause  tendered  her,  Frau  Carreno 
will  allow  herself  to  be  heard  more  frequently  before  the  Berlin  public. 

Hans  von  Biilow,  who  had  done  her  the  honor  of  attending 
the  debut,  was  heard  to  say:  "She  is  undoubtedly  the  most  in- 
teresting pianiste  of  the  present,"  and  that  in  spite  of  the  fact 
that  he  had  little  use  for  women  as  musicians.  A  letter  to  Wolff 
expresses  his  feelings  on  this  subject:  "Do  I  need  more  of  the 
'Eternal  feminine'  for  my  concerts?  Ask  yourself  about  the 
drawing  power  (to  the  box  office).  I  for  my  own  part  miss 
rustling  garments  on  the  platform  with  delight." 

On  the  morning  after  the  concert  Hermann  Wolff  inter- 
rupted Carreno' s  breakfast  in  order  to  translate  for  her  the 
mountain  of  criticisms  into  French.  On  the  strength  of  these  he 
insisted  that  she  follow  up  her  success  immediately  with  a  solo 
recital  unassisted.  Carreno,  still  dazed  and  somewhat  skeptical, 
consented. 

On  the  evening  of  November  30  she  found  herself  once  more 
at  the  same  Bechstein  in  the  same  hall,  this  time  completely 
sold  out,  due,  some  said,  to  the  miracle  of  a  single  trill. 

A  stately  figure  in  softly  trailing  velvet,  Carreno  crossed  the 
stage  accompanied  by  acclaim  as  spontaneously  from  the  heart 
as  her  own  playing.  This  was  not  an  audience  to  be  conquered, 
but  a  crowd  of  followers  eager  to  be  led  wherever  she  chose. 
Berlin  had  adopted  "Die  Carreno"  after  a  single  hearing.  Be- 
fore the  first  note  of  the  "Appassionata"  sounded  she  felt  that 
she  belonged. 


196  TERESA  CARRENO 

As  in  the  "Symphonische  Etuden"  the  week  before  she  began 
with  extreme  deliberation,  reticently,  severely.  Those  >who 
looked  for  tenderness  and  charm  in  the  "Andante"  were  disap- 
pointed. It  stood  in  naked  simplicity,  classic  in  architecture. 
Had  they  been  mistaken  after  all,  wondered  the  critics?  Sud- 
denly she  hammered  them  to  acute  tension  with  disagreeable 
reiteration  of  those  arid  diminished  sevenths  that  usher  in  the 
"Finale."  Something  momentous  was  about  to  happen.  Visibly, 
as  a  body,  the  audience  was  drawn  forward.  What  a  tempo, 
what  fierceness  of  rhythm !  Could  she  possibly  hold  it  through  ? 
She  could,  and  she  did.  Rejoicing  tirelessly  and  disdainfully  in 
every  difficulty,  Carreno  made  vivid  and  vocal  the  terrific  pas- 
sion inherent  in  Beethoven's  music,  and  led  it  with  inexorable 
inner  logic  to  its  wild,  intoxicating  close.  The  Titan  of  Bonn 
stood  revealed,  as  Klinger  has  revealed  him  in  marble,  un- 
tamed, unpolished,  unresigned.  Even  those  who  disagreed  with 
Carreno's  convictions  most  loudly  during  the  intermission,  had 
to  admit  that  they  were  held  in  complete  subjection.  They  felt 
that  here  was  beauty  of  soul  both  simple  and  great,  seeking 
not  its  own.  That  she  saw  her  truths  in  superlatives  did  not  in 
essence  detract.  Is  not  genius  itself  an  exaggeration?  What  if 
she  played  the  left  hand  before  the  right,  dragged  out  her 
melodies,  or  pounded  the  all-too-responsive  Bechstein  at  times 
without  mercy!  That  which  she  said  had  the  rightness  and 
persuasiveness  of  truth  itself.  "She  plays  like  Rubinstein  on  one 
of  his  good  days,"  whispered  the  critic  of  the  Norddeutsche 
Allgemeine  Zeitung.  Conversation  buzzed  excitedly,  yet  in  un- 
dertones as  if  under  the  impression  of  an  aurora  borealis.  The 
gentle  Herr  Breslauer  complained  in  his  journal:  "It  is  impos- 
sible to  evaluate  her.  Even  the  most  coolheaded  are  caught  in 
the  rapids.  But" — here  the  piano  pedant  raises  his  head — "from 
the  German  point  of  view  much  should  be  different."  The 
Chopin  group,  although  more  temperate,  drew  forth  decided 
pros  and  cons.  Again  it  was  in  the  music  that  approached  the 
virtually  impossible  that  Carreno  was  most  completely  at  home 
on  this  night. 


TERESA  CARRENO  197 

The  Paganini-Liszt  "Campanella"  was  one  of  her  affinities  of 
long  standing.  Nearing  the  famous  trill,  Carreno  became  con- 
scious of  two  in  the  front  row  busily  conversing,  evidently  with 
minds  far  removed  from  music.  Lifting  her  left  eyebrow,  which 
should  have  warned  them,  she  began  the  trill.  It  rose  lightly  as 
Ariel,  growing  in  speed  and  force  until  there  was  not  enough 
strength  in  the  fingers  of  one  hand  alone  to  admit  of  further 
power.  (The  two  in  the  front  row,  she  noticed,  were  still  deep 
in  their  own  affairs.)  Carreno  trilled  on,  using  both  hands  to 
hammer  out  a  vibrating  quiver,  breath-taking  in  its  crescendo. 
(Could  it  be  that  they  were  still  unaffected?)  The  trill  from  its 
incredible  height  dwindled  into  nothing.  (Aha!  They  talked 
no  more.)  Again  it  soared  to  peaks  where  human  beings  no 
longer  may  breathe.  Not  until  she  had  the  satisfaction  of  seeing 
two  faces  upturned  to  her  own  in  speechless  amazement  did 
she  let  it  sink  into  silence.  Decidedly,  in  the  sacred  name  of 
good  taste  this  was  too  much.  Marvelous  as  it  was,  such  things 
should  not  happen  in  Germany.  "Probably,"  said  a  critic,  "the 
words  of  the  German  poet:  'In  moderation  the  master  shows 
himself,'  have  not  yet  been  translated  into  Spanish." 

The  octaves  of  Liszt's  "Sixth  Rhapsodie"  closed  the  con- 
cert proper  with  their  blaring  fanfare.  A  music-hungry  mob 
crowded  forward  for  its  quota  of  encores.  Carreno,  to  whom 
the  concert  had  seemed  one  of  the  shortest,  played  on  until  by 
order  of  the  management  the  hall  was  darkened.  The  temper  of 
the  press  in  general  was  typified  by  the  V ol\szeitung. 

Grandiose  as  the  effect  of  her  playing  are  also  its  faults,  but  I  would 
be  a  Philistine  indeed  for  this  reason  to  indict  our  guest  before  the 
forum  of  the  academicians.  The  style  of  her  offerings  still  needs 
schooling;  yet  with  all  her  exaggerations  we  welcome  her  as  a  sound- 
ing protest  against  that  affected  lifelessness,  of  which  today  even 
virtuosos  of  the  first  rank  make  themselves  guilty. 

Back  in  her  hotel  Carreno  poured  out  her  joys  and  her  hopes 
to  her  friends  across  the  hall.  Now  she  could  soon  have  her 
children  with  her,  pay  her  obligations,  and  find  the  permanent 


198  TERESA  CARRENO 

home  for  which  she  had  longed.  She  was  still  at  her  liveliest 
when  she  noticed  that  Emma  was  yawning  and  that  Frau  Koch 
had  fallen  asleep.  Another  day  was  at  the  dawn. 

She  awoke,  her  determination  fixed  to  go  to  the  children  for 
the  holidays.  To  this  a  reluctant  manager  was  obliged  to  con- 
sent, but  not  until  he  had  exacted  a  promise  that  she  return  by 
the  middle  of  January  as  his  prize  exclusively  on  the  same  terms 
customary  with  artists  like  Eugen  d' Albert.  In  the  interim 
he  would  lose  no  time  in  making  her  name  known  wherever 
his  influence  counted.  Engagements  began  to  trickle,  then  to 
pour  in.  Hans  von  Billow  himself  asked  for  a  repetition  of  the 
Grieg  "Concerto"  under  his  baton  in  the  Berlin  Philharmonic 
Concert  of  January  31,  an  honor  accorded  few  newcomers.  In 
her  3-by-4  diary  of  Russia  leather  adorned  with  a  four-leaf 
clover  Carreno  enters  on  the  day  of  the  public  rehearsal,  "great 
success,"  on  the  day  of  the  concert,  "great  success."  This  ap- 
pearance was  to  cement  a  lifelong  friendship,  occasionally 
spiced  with  misunderstandings,  between  two  whose  tempera- 
tures registered  at  the  thermometric  antipodes,  the  cold,  meticu- 
lous scholar  and  the  hot-blooded,  impulsive  Amazon. 

Three  days  after  this  concert,  Hans  von  Bulow  wrote:  "Car- 
reno is  a  phenomenon,  an  exotic  one,  a  young  Kundry.  I  call 
her  benedicta  in  nomine  Apollonis,  for  she  sweeps  the  floor 
clean  of  all  piano  paraders,  who  after  her  coming,  must  take 
themselves  elsewhere.  Wherever  she  is  heard  she  is  engaged  for 
a  second,  yes,  even  a  third  time — I  recommend  to  you  this  en- 
richment in  new  sensations."  More  practical  witness  to  her  tri- 
umph, Carreno  could  enter  an  income  for  January  of  3,450 
marks. 

On  February  13  Carreno  gave  her  third  concert,  this  time 
again  with  orchestral  accompaniment,  playing  three  concerti, 
one  of  which  was  that  of  MacDowell. 

In  the  midst  of  ovations  such  as  Germany  usually  reserved  for 
its  own  acknowledged  great,  one  wish,  suppressed  during 
many  years,  rose  to  the  surface  with  such  frequent  recurrence 


TERESA  CARRENO  199 

that  it  would  no  longer  be  denied.  Carreno  had  never  forgotten 
her  first  child,  the  one  she  had  been  forced  to  abandon  to  the 
care  of  another.  For  fourteen  years  there  had  been  no  word  of 
her.  Not  to  be  able  to  imagine  one's  own  daughter!  See  her 
she  must!  For  one  whole  morning  Carreno  composed  draft 
after  draft  of  a  letter  that,  she  hoped,  would  speak  to  the  heart 
of  her  old-time  friend.  She  wrote  laboriously  in  German: 

Dear  Mrs.  BischofT: — On  the  21st  instant  I  go  to  Wiesbaden  to 
fulfill  a  concert  engagement,  and  I  come  most  earnestly  to  beg  of 
you  to  allow  me  to  see  my  daughter  for  a  few  minutes. 

I  think  that  in  all  these  years  of  a  silence  so  painful,  to  me,  in  which 
I  have  longed  oh!  with  such  a  heavy  heart  to  hear  something  of 
my  child  without  in  any  way  causing  her  or  you  any  pain,  I  have 
sufficiently  proved  to  you  how  thoroughly  I  wished  you  to  keep  all 
my  rights  over  her,  (for  this  was  the  promise  I  made  to  myself)  that 
she  should  grow  loving  you  with  all  her  heart  and  undisturbed  by 
the  thought  of  her  unfortunate  and  unhappy  mother.  I  still  intend  to 
keep  this  promise,  for  more  than  ever  I  am  convinced  that  for  the 
child's  own  sake  I  acted  right,  and  if  she  does  not  know  who  I  am, 
and  what  my  relation  to  her  is,  I  will  never  tell  her,  for  her  own  sake; 
but  I  cannot  come  so  near,  longing  as  I  do  for  one  look  at  her  and 
not  see  her.  In  the  name  of  the  love  you  bear  that  child  who  after  all 
is  my  child — and  I  gave  her  to  your  keeping  that  she  might  in  a 
measure  with  her  child-love  compensate  you  for  the  love  and  kindness 
which  I  owed  you,  and  though  lawfully  having  the  right  to  claim  her, 
I  have  never  attempted  to  do  so,  nor  will  I  as  long  as  you  live — in 
the  remembrance  of  the  love  you  once  bore  me  I  appeal  to  your  heart 
to  let  me  have  the  comfort  of  seeing  her  when  I  come  to  Wiesbaden. 
What  I  ask  you  is  very  little  for  you,  and  it  will  be  so  much  for  me. 

The  next  day  after  the  concert  I  shall  call  at  your  house  and  hope 
that  you  will  grant  my  request. 

With  the  deepest  feelings  of  gratitude  for  all  you  have  been  to 
my  daughter,  and  for  all  you  were  to  me  in  days  gone  by,  I  remain, 

Yours  faithfully,  Teresa  Carreno. 

Mrs.  Bischoff  chose  not  to  receive  Carreno.  Emilita  knew  of 
her  real  parentage,  but  in  a  way  calculated  to  make  her  feel 
ashamed  of  it.  Carreno  was,  so  Emilita  had  been  told,  a  light- 


200  TERESA  CARRENO 

minded  woman  of  the  prevalently  objectionable  artist  type, 
more  addicted  to  luxury  and  jewels,  of  which  she  owned  trunk- 
fuls,  than  of  taking  responsibility.  That  this  wall  of  fiction 
might  some  day  be  dynamited  was  her  ever-present  dread.  It 
was  a  menace  in  itself  that  Teresa  had  come  to  Germany  and 
had  taken  it  by  storm.  With  all  the  intensity  of  a  jealous 
woman's  nature,  she  meant  to  stay  alone  in  the  affections  of 
this  young  girl  upon  whom  she  had  lavished  the  care  and 
comforts  due  an  only  daughter.  She  replied  through  her  lawyer 
two  days  after  the  meeting  was  to  have  taken  place. 

February  24, 1890 

Mrs.  Bischoff  asks  me  to  answer  your  letter  written  to  her  from  Berlin 
and  to  say  that  she  in  no  wise  can  acknowledge  the  legal  rights  to 
the  little  daughter  of  Mr.  Sauret  which  you  stress  in  it.  As  matters 
stand,  it  is  incontestable  that  the  child  stands  under  the  control  of 
her  father,  and  that  the  father  alone  has  the  right  to  decide  about 
her  care,  upbringing  and  education.  You  will  admit  yourself  that 
by  Frau  Bischoff  she  is  being  treated  in  such  an  outstandingly  af- 
fectionate, sensible  and  actually  motherly  manner,  that  interference 
with  these  conditions  could  not  but  be  harmful  for  the  mental  and 
moral  development  of  the  child. 

Under  these  circumstances  my  honored  client  is  obliged  to  deny 
herself  in  her  own  interest  as  well  as  that  of  the  child  any  kind  of 
intercourse  with  you,  personal  or  otherwise,  and  asks  you  to  give  up 
any  further  attempts  to  intrude  upon  her,  to  which  under  existing 
law  you  have  no  rights.  This  will  be  all  the  less  painful  to  you,  be- 
cause since  your  divorce  from  your  husband  you  have  never  in  the 
slightest  degree  concerned  yourself  about  the  child,  and  have  even 
expressed  the  wish  at  one  time  that  henceforth  you  desired  not  to 
exist  for  her. 

Carreno  turned  from  the  inhospitable  door  to  her  work  for 
comfort.  A  full  schedule  of  concerts  stretched  ahead. 

To  the  army  of  music  students  who  hopefully  flocked  to  Ger- 
many in  the  Nineties  Carreno  became  the  embodiment  of  their 
ultimate  ideal  for  themselves.  She  was  the  superlative  pianist, 


TERESA  CARRENO  201 

the  incomparable,  the  most  complete,  the  most  splendid,  and 
as  a  natural  corollary  she  must  be  of  course  the  happiest  mortal 
on  earth.  Inhabiting  her  own  private  Utopia,  at  whose  glamor- 
ous perfection  they  could  only  guess,  they  gave  Carreno  a  place 
aloof,  too  high  for  belittling  envy.  They  saw  her  embowered 
among  flowers  of  perennial  freshness,  surrounded  by  a  rainbow 
aura  of  their  own  youthful,  extravagant  imaginings.  She  grew 
to  be  their  musical  gold  standard.  Secretly  each  one  thought 
herself  a  potential  Carreno.  Perhaps  some  day  they  too,  through 
the  magic  effect  emanating,  so  people  had  said,  from  the  Berlin 
musical  atmosphere,  would  hold  court  against  a  fragrant  floral 
background,  while  silks  and  satins  beyond  dreams  and  count- 
ing hung  idly  in  wardrobes,  like  those  of  Carreno.  Jewels  like 
hers,  too  many  of  them,  defying  choice,  filled  chest  upon  chest 
of  their  imagination.  They  endowed  her  with  a  geyser  of  a  bank 
account,  that  miraculously  took  care  of  itself,  with  friends  of 
high  degree  who  would  never  fail  or  disappoint  her,  always 
appear  when  needed,  yet  never  outstay  their  welcome,  devoted 
servants  who  would  not  so  much  as  allow  her  to  pin  on  a  hat 
or  button  a  shoe.  And  like  Carreno  they  would  play,  and  play, 
and  play  for  hours  upon  end,  living  perpetually  on  that  high 
level  of  ecstasy  to  which  she  lifted  her  hearers.  So  her  life  must 
always  have  been,  must  ever  be !  How  thrilling  just  to  pick  up  the 
handkerchief  she  carelessly  dropped  on  the  stage,  to  see  her  set 
her  ample,  generously  rounded  signature  to  one  of  her  pro- 
grams for  an  album  of  memories,  to  feel  the  glance  of  piercing 
velvet  that  seemed  to  read  and  comprehend  them  at  once  and 
wholly!  Oh!  to  be  a  Carreno! 

Carreno  sat  in  the  twilight,  wearing  a  plain  woolen  wrapper 
that  had  warmed  her  for  many  years.  Cigarettes  had  punctured 
it  in  places.  But  Carreno,  watching  the  soothing  smoke  rings 
thinning  into  nothing,  liked  it  all  the  better  for  the  holes.  She 
was  not  one  to  cast  old  friends,  even  inanimate  ones,  lightly 
aside.  Her  mood  today  was  one  of  extreme  melancholy.  What 
curse  had  been  laid  upon  her  that  she,  like  the  Flying  Dutch- 
man, must  travel  eternally  from  place  to  place  without  a 


202  TERESA  CARRENO 

home,  far  from  her  country,  her  children !  Why  had  life  denied 
her  the  rights,  the  security  given  ordinary  mothers,  safely  pro- 
tected by  their  husbands  ?  She  should  have  shown  more  sense  in 
choosing  hers.  How  could  she  hope  to  sift  out  a  few  true  friends 
from  the  flatterers  that  surrounded  her  to  the  exclusion  of  any 
real  privacy?  How  could  she  answer  all  these  unimportant  let- 
ters, thank  people  for  their  flowers,  sign  her  name  endlessly  for 
silly  young  things,  while  her  dresses  needed  mending,  and  she 
should  be  going  over  her  accounts.  No  manager  must  be  al- 
lowed to  take  advantage  of  her.  Indeed  not!  What  would  Tag 
say  to  the  letter  that  told  him  definitely  that  between  him  and 
her  all  was  ended  ?  How  long  would  it  take  her  at  the  rate  of 
her  present  prospects  to  repay  the  loan  of  Mr.  Fairbank  ?  Could 
she  afford  to  have  Teresita  and  Giovanni  with  her  now?  No! 
They  were  better  off  in  Montmorency.  The  daily  news  of  them 
which  she  required  indicated  that  they  were  well  and  happy. 
Teresita  was  already  speaking  French  very  nicely  and  Giovanni, 
the  darling,  had  written  her  an  undecipherable  scrawl  that  she 
carried  in  her  bag  wherever  she  went.  She  would  see  them  on 
her  way  to  England,  God  willing!  That  alone  was  worth  living 
and  working  for.  Tomorrow  she  must  be  off  again  for  another 
city  she  would  learn  to  know  only  through  its  hotels  and  its 
concert  halls.  In  Dresden  she  had  not  even  had  time  to  see  the 
"Sistine  Madonna."  Instead  she  was  obliged  to  receive  the  bor- 
ing, perfunctory  calls  of  official  dignitaries.  Thank  fortune,  her 
trunk  at  least  was  packed. 

Far  below  sounded  the  even  tramp  of  soldiers,  a  military 
band  suddenly  breaking  into  one  of  those  marches  that  give 
spring  to  tired  feet.  It  reminded  her  that  the  piano  was  awaiting 
her  pleasure.  Although  she  did  not  feel  well — her  nerves,  she 
supposed — and  not  at  all  like  practicing,  from  the  very  first 
note  she  responded  to  the  healing  power  of  the  art  to  which 
she  had  committed  herself.  Troubles  receded.  She  became  as 
young  Germany  dreamed  her,  the  empress  of  the  piano.  Slowly, 
painstakingly  as  any  student,  she  sought  for  new  and  deeper 
meaning  in  the  compositions  already  so  intimately  hers,  de- 


TERESA  CARRENO  203 

manded  more  than  she  had  yet  given.  She  studied  self-forget- 
fully,  time-forgetfully,  until  a  knocking  upon  the  wall  re- 
minded her  that  to  her  neighbors  sleep  was  more  necessary 
than  music.  Suddenly  she  felt  tired  and  hungry.  She  put  more 
briquettes  into  the  friendly  tile  stove — that  institution  which  for 
warmth  and  economy  still  seeks  its  equal — and  quickly  brewed 
a  cup  of  tea  on  her  spirit  burner  to  make  more  palatable  the 
open  sandwich  of  blackbread,  butter,  and  cold  meat  of  which 
her  daily  supper  consisted.  Oh !  to  be  with  her  children ! 


The  first  tour  extended  from  Holland  to  Prague  and  back  to 
include  Belgium.  Everywhere  Carreno  appeared  as  a  revela- 
tion. She  was  delared  to  be  the  only  one  who  could  boast  of  a 
"full  house  in  this  overcrowded  season."  No  pianist  since  Tausig 
and  Rubinstein  had  been  so  royally  welcomed.  None  could 
compete  with  her  unless  it  were  the  formidable  d' Albert,  now 
on  tour  in  America.  Carreno  made  mental  note  that  here  was 
one  rival  who  must  be  heard.  A  critic  from  Antwerp's  he  Pre- 
curseur  called  her  a  Venezuelan  capable  of  thawing  the  North 
Pole;  the  Prague  Politi\  invented  the  term  "Keyboard-million- 
airess" in  her  honor. 

Carreno  had  been  called  upon  to  play  the  Grieg  "Concerto" 
in  Leipzig  on  March  29,  1890.  The  Centralhalle  was  its  setting. 
In  one  of  the  front  rows  of  the  Gewandhaus  Saal  sat  two  men, 
one  a  Leipzig  music  publisher,  Herr  Fritzsch,  the  other  a  man 
of  undersized  figure  capped  by  an  enormous  head,  from  which 
two  points  of  light  flashed  searchingly.  He  was  seen  to  listen  in 
rapt  attention,  punctuating  a  passage  here  and  there  with  a 
whispered  "enorm,  groszartig,  gewaltig!'  He  was  first  to  ap- 
plaud at  the  end,  first  to  greet  Carreno  in  the  artists'  room  after 
the  "Concerto"  was  finished.  Doubling  in  a  precise  bow  he  in- 
troduced himself:  "Mein  Name  ist  Grieg."  Carreno's  heart 
missed  a  beat.  There  jumped  to  her  mind  all  the  liberties  she 
had  taken  with  the  last  pages  of  the  master's  work,  the  octaves 
she  had  substituted  for  the  arpeggios  in  the  score.  For  once 
she  found  no  words,  stood  like  a  schoolgirl  waiting  for  a  just 
reprimand.  "Madame,"  said  Grieg,  "I  did  not  know  that  my 
concerto  was  so  beautiful."  The  photograph  he  gave  her  on 
this  day  is  inscribed,  not  too  grammatically,  in  his  hand:  "Die 
ausgezeichnete  Meisterin  mit  Dan\  und  Verehrung  Edvard 
Grieg."  From  that  day  on  they  were  fast  friends,  he  one  of  her 
frankest  critics. 

That  he  was  not  always  in  agreement  with  her  a  letter  from 
Grieg  to  Andreas  Winding  clearly  shows: 


TERESA  CARRENO  205 

Frau  Carreno  played  Chopin's  "E  minor  Concerto"  and  Liszt's 
"Hungarian  Fantasia"  with  orchestra  excellently.  But  the  devil  is 
in  these  virtuosos  who  always  want  to  improve  on  everything.  In  the 
first  measures  she  pleased  to  play  more  slowly  in  the  passages,  so  that 
the  tempo  went  Heidi!  And  in  the  Finale  she  suddenly  took  the 
second  theme  much  more  slowly.  There  should  be  a  penalty  for 
such  things.  And  on  top  of  it  she  acted  so  proud;  that  was  the  worst 
of  it.  But  thereupon  I  gave  her  a  piece  of  my  mind  and  added :  "Well, 
Chopin  is  dead,  he  doesn't  hear  it!  What  Weingartner  says  of  the 
tempo  rubato  conductor  is  true  also  for  the  performing  artist.  They 
all  suffer  from  virtuoso  or  importance  mania. 

In  Paris  on  a  passing  visit  with  her  children  Carreno  was  laid 
low  by  a  violent  attack  of  quinsy,  or  angine  as  the  French  doc- 
tor more  poetically  called  it,  not  making  it  less  painful  on  that 
account.  She  suffered  acutely,  a  high  fever  which  lasted  for  days 
leaving  her  so  weak  that  she  did  not  care  to  start  for  England 
without  Manuel  in  attendance. 

On  the  opposite  side  of  their  compartment,  as  the  train  sped 
toward  London,  there  happened  to  sit  a  stolid-looking  German 
reading  his  paper.  Carreno,  in  reckless  spirits  matched  by  a 
brother  in  a  holiday  mood,  was  up  and  down,  packing  and  re- 
packing her  bags,  commenting  in  strident  soprano  upon  every- 
thing that  passed  through  her  mind  or  before  her  eyes.  Soon  the 
farther  window  was  the  object  of  her  attraction.  She  crossed 
over,  jostling  the  phlegmatic  stranger  without  apology,  then 
trumpeted  back  to  Manuel  in  Spanish :  "Our  portly  friend  will 
think  that  I  wish  to  make  love  to  him,  but  I  only  wish  to  ad- 
mire the  scenery."  So  boisterously  they  enjoyed  themselves  at 
his  expense,  like  two  thoughtless  children.  Arrived  at  the  sta- 
tion, hardly  had  the  train  whistled  itself  to  a  standstill  when 
another  whistle  caught  her  ear.  Did  she  imagine  that  she  was 
hearing  the  Siegfried  motif  ?  No,  there  upon  the  platform  stood 
a  group  of  jovial  young  men  evidently  expecting  someone.  Sud- 
denly the  "portly  friend"  pushed  forward,  his  lips  framing  the 
same  motif  in  reply.  The  group  rushed  to  greet  him.  Who 
could  this  man  be,  so  musically  awaited,  on  such  intimate  terms 


2o6  TERESA  CARRENO 

with  Wagner?  It  came  to  her  like  a  stunning  blow.  The  great 
Hans  Richter  himself!  Carreno,  like  every  pianist  worth  the 
name,  had  hoped  one  day  to  play  under  his  baton.  She  moaned 
in  self-abasement.  "How  could  I  be  so  rude,  so  mad."  How 
ironically  the  maestro  had  bowed  himself  out  of  the  compart- 
ment. "What  a  fool  I  was" — and  there  was  nothing  she  despised 
more — "what  a  damn  fool,"  she  repeated.  No  great  harm  was 
done,  however.  On  November  9  and  often  thereafter  she  was 
to  play  a  concerto  conducted  by  Richter.  The  incident  was 
never  mentioned  between  them. 

Musical  London  which  had  once  meant  home  to  Carreno, 
and  which  she  came  to  capture  anew  in  the  late  May  of  1890, 
had  changed  in  twenty  years.  It  received  her  cautiously,  finding 
her  too  spectacular,  her  programs  too  unconservative.  The  Lon- 
don Times  disliked  "the  trick  of  appending  little  final  flourishes 
to  almost  every  work  played,"  and  talked  condescendingly  of  the 
"beauty  in  pink  cashmere  and  silk  brocade."  Carreno  was  not 
disheartened.  "If  London  refuses  to  be  taken  in  a  concert  or 
two,  I  shall  simply  have  to  convert  it,"  she  decided.  It  was  im- 
portant to  be  accepted  in  England,  a  country  loyal  beyond  all 
others  to  the  artists  of  her  adoption,  and  she  meant  to  return 
until  she  too  was  numbered  among  them.  Socially  at  least  she 
was  a  success. 

Back  again  in  Paris  Carreno  faced  problems  other  than 
musical  ones.  She  was  too  much  a  Venezuelan  to  leave  her  earn- 
ings lying  stagnant  in  a  vault.  She  had  an  urge  to  join  the  jug- 
glers of  the  stock  market,  tempered  by  the  experience  of  one 
acquainted  with  poverty.  Fortunately  there  was  among  her 
friends  a  man  who  taught  her  how  to  handle  investments 
wisely.  When  her  gambler's  instincts  threatened  to  prevail 
against  the  calculations  of  the  business  woman,  she  reminded 
herself  of  the  $5,000  owing  her  benefactor  in  Chicago.  Yet  in 
her  purse — a  slight  harking  back  to  atavistic  longings — there 
was  almost  always  sure  to  be  found  a  lottery  ticket.  That  was 
one  of  her  few  harmless  indulgences,  returning  to  her  in  pleas- 
ure what  the  fates  denied  in  coin. 


TERESA  CARRENO  207 

Waiting  for  her  in  Paris  Carreno  found  the  much  dreaded 
letter  from  Tag  postmarked  Toronto,  May  22,  1890.  He  wrote 
in  placating,  operatic  Italian,  trying  to  touch  her  in  the  spot  he 
knew  to  be  most  vulnerable,  the  welfare  of  their  children: 

Dear  Teresita: 

I  received  your  letter  which  gave  me  pleasure  and  displeasure.  I 
spent  two  wakeful  nights  asking  God  for  the  grace  of  giving  me 
the  idea  of  an  answer,  and  finally  He  dictated  this  one,  and  I  thank 
Him  a  thousand  times  for  the  decisions  which  He  Himself  placed  in 
my  heart. 

Hear  therefore  what  I  shall  tell  you,  and  I  call  God  to  witness 
that  what  I  say  will  be  rigidly  carried  out.  God  told  me  this :  "Teresita, 
you  are  a  good  and  honest  woman,  and  furthermore  an  even  better 
mother,  and  that  is  why  I  love  you  more  (if  that  is  possible)  than  I 
loved  you  in  the  days  when  I  first  met  you.  I  do  not  know  whether 
you  have  the  same  affection  for  me,  but  you  cannot  deny  that  after 
twelve  years  of  life  together  you  must  have  some  feeling  for  the 
father  of  your  children.  And  now  it  is  precisely  on  account  of  the 
love  that  we  both  bear  them  that  I  speak.  We  have  these  two  little 
angels,  so  good  and  so  lovely,  and  we  must  be  proud  of  them  and 
make  their  life  as  little  unhappy  as  possible,  strewing  roses,  not 
thorns  upon  the  path  they  must  tread.  .  .  .  Let  us  leave  the  past 
behind  us — let  us  think  of  the  future — my  errors  towards  you  were 
provoked  by  my  love.  .  .  . 

Teresita,  I  wish  to  make  you  happy,  and  I  swear  that  you  will  be- 
come so.  Only  love  me  a  little  and  you  will  be  happy  with  your  chil- 
dren and  your  old  Nanno.  We  are  at  an  age  when  illusions  no  longer 
exist.  Give  me  your  hand  and  you  will  see  what  Nanno  is  able  to  do 
after  so  many  years  of  unfortunate  experience.  .  .  . 

I  want  to  make  you  my  queen,  love  you,  respect  you  and  do  all 
within  my  power  to  make  you  forget  the  unfortunate  past. 

Think  well  before  answering,  for  upon  your  reply  depends  your 
future  and  mine  and  that  of  our  children.  In  any  case  I  have  to  tell 
you  that  I  can  no  longer  live  without  seeing  them,  and  should  you 
decide  not  to  see  me,  I  still  would  come  to  embrace  them  without 
embracing  their  mother.  Write  me  soon.  Kiss  the  children  for  me. 
And  as  for  you,  who' sent  no  kiss  to  me,  receive  one  from  your  Nanno, 
who  always  loves  you  and  will  still  make  you  happy. 


208  TERESA  CARRENO 

I  have  insured  my  life  for  $10,000,  so  that  if  I  should  die  tomorrow, 
you  can  have  the  money  for  the  children.  I  did  this  yesterday,  Mutual 
Life*  Insurance,  N.Y.  Therefore,  I  still  have  $2000  which  I  saved,  after 
having  settled  everything.  Now  I  am  on  the  way  to  earn  much  money. 

Dr.  Anderson  in  Detroit  gave  me  a  wonderful  pin  with  six  lovely 
diamonds  for  Teresita,  and  I  had  bought  two  very  beautiful  earrings 
with  diamonds  for  you,  which  I  have  here.  I  also  bought  for  you 
two  Japanese  kimonos  as  a  surprise,  one  for  summer  and  the  other 
for  winter,  immense  shawls  and  lots  of  small  things  that  would  have 
given  you  pleasure. — Another  kiss  from  Nanno. 

P.S.  After  my  firm  decision,  all  now  depends  upon  you,  to  make 
a  good  person,  a  good  father,  and  a  good  husband  of  me. 

Your  Nanno 

All  debts  are  paid,  I  have  about  $2000  left,  but  I  am  giving  up  the 
house.  Write  me  to  Steinway  Hall,  since  I  do  not  yet  know  where 
I  shall  live. 

Carreno  was  not  tempted,  neither  for  herself  nor  for  Teresita 
and  Giovanni.  She  laid  aside  the  letter  with  distaste.  Not  even 
a  ripple  of  longing  was  left  to  see  again  this  man  she  had 
known  too  well,  too  long.  That  subject  was  closed.  It  was  easy 
to  brush  aside  the  past,  the  more  because  she  had  already  out- 
lived it,  and  because  summer,  a  long  summer  of  happiness,  was 
close  at  hand. 

With  Manuel,  Rosie,  the  children,  and  Josephine  she  took  a 
cottage  at  Berck-sur-Mer  on  the  Normandy  coast  to  "rest  and 
pick  up."  There  were  woods  on  one  side,  the  sea  on  the  other, 
and  the  place  was  as  healthful  as  it  was  cheap.  Proudly  she 
writes  of  Teresita  and  Giovanni:  "They  have  grown  so  much, 
and,  forgive  the  vanity,  so  pretty  too."  It  pleases  her  that  Ter- 
esita reads  music  well.  From  villa  Pauline,  chalet  Number  8, 
she  writes  to  Carrie  Keating  urging  her  to  come.  "You  are  over- 
worked and  (as  I  have  done)  have  borrowed  too  much  on  your 
capital  of  vitality !  But,  never  mind,  darling,  you  and  I  are  made 
of  the  stuff  that  never  says  die,  and  we  wouldn't."  She  apolo- 
gizes for  not  being  able  to  ask  her  to  live  in  her  house.  The 
two  teachers  of  the  children  were  to  be  there:  "They  were  so 
good  to  my  babies  that  I  want  to  do  what  I  can  to  show  them 


TERESA  CARRENO  209 

my  appreciation  of  their  behaviour,  and  they  are  two  very 
charming  girls."  Even  here  the  responsibilities  of  her  profes- 
sion are  ever  present:  "The  only  thing  which  will  interfere  with 
our  visit  together  will  be  my  work,  for  I  have  to  work  very 
hard  this  summer  on  account  of  having  so  many  engagements 
to  fulfill  next  winter,  and  having  to  get  new  things  ready  for 
my  concerts." 

Carrie  arrived,  was  met  at  the  station  and  nearly  smothered 
under  the  great  black  cape,  as  Carreno  threw  her  arms  about 
her.  Berck-sur-Mer  was  the  meeting  place  of  the  Venezuelan 
colony  of  Paris.  Carreno  joined  in  with  them,  even  playing  an 
occasional  game  of  tennis  or  watching  the  shooting  matches  in 
which  Rosie  excelled.  She  found  that  this,  indeed,  was  the  ideal 
place  for  relaxing  tired  nerves,  regaining  strength — and  losing 
weight.  Autumn  too  soon  crept  in  upon  her  happiness,  and  the 
day  of  parting  from  the  children  approached.  She  had  counted 
upon  making  a  new  home  for  them  in  Berlin.  Wolff  had  sternly 
objected.  Engagements,  really  important  ones,  were  coming  in. 
She  must  not  be  distracted.  This  season,  he  said,  would  set  the 
pace  for  all  future  ones,  solidify  her  position.  He  predicted  for 
her  more  engagements  in  Germany  "than  all  the  pianists  to- 
gether," trusting  that  she  would  be  well  disposed  toward  "a 
very  fatiguing  season  which  promises  good  returns  in  marks, 
florins,  rubels,  francs,  and  crowns,"  and  himself,  incidentally, 
equally  good  ones  in  ten-per  cent  commissions. 

Wolff's  snappy  letters  were  meant,  and  seldom  failed,  to 
make  Carreno  smile  even  in  her  gloomiest  moments.  He  had  a 
genius  for  understanding  artists.  To  brave  their  stormy  tem- 
perament was  refreshing  as  the  driving  wind  after  listless  sum- 
mer heat.  He  could  hardly  wait  to  have  it  lash  his  face  again. 
At  the  end  of  September  he  wrote: 

Chere  amie:  J'ignore  s'il  vous  interesse,  mais  je  dois  vous  le  dire: 
je  suis  de  retour.  Berlin  commence  done  a  etre  complet  et  n'attend  que 
votre  arrivee  pour  etre  completement  complet.  Tres  bien  dit,  n'est-ce 
pas?  Ma  femme  est  encore  a  Grossgmein  avec  ses  enfants  (et  les 
miens).  .  .  .  Quant  aux  affairs,  je   trouve   Scheveningen,  comme 


210  TERESA  CARRENO 

M.  Fernow  vous  le  propose,  parfaitement  acceptable.  Vous  vivrez 
pendant  une  huitaine  comme  une  "deesse  en  Hollande,"  vous  aurez 
succes,  tres  beaucoup  bon,  nous  en  ferons  une  jolie  petite  reclame 
pour  les  autres  pays  et  villes  qui  auront  plus  tard  Fhonneur  de  vous 
entendre  et  payer,  et  tout  finira  aussi  bien  qu'il  commence. 

He  might  have  noted,  as  she  did  in  her  diary,  that  this  would 
give  her  the  opportunity  of  trying  out  the  Saint-Saens  "Con- 
certo in  C  minor"  on  a  European  audience  with  the  promise  of 
1,000  francs  to  add  to  her  bank  account. 

On  October  9  the  strenuous  season  began.  With  few  inter- 
missions Carreno  played  daily,  traveled  almost  daily,  grateful 
only  that  Herr  Wolff  knew  how  to  plan  the  routes  with  a  view 
to  proximity,  economy,  and  the  least  possible  discomfort.  In  one 
of  her  first  concerts  on  October  13  she  was  to  play  the  Saint- 
Saens  "Concerto"  under  von  Biilow  in  Berlin.  In  a  letter  to 
Wolff  he  writes : 

Saint-Saens  ist  doch  ein  famoser  Musiker!  Sein  viertes  Klavier-konzert 
kann  einen  von  dem  Ekel  an  Musik  curiren,  den  man  sich  in  Ihrem 
(daran  unschuldigen)  Bureau  zuzieht  durch  Einblick  in  die  aller- 
hand  Parti  (tor)  turen,  denen  Sie — Gottlob — eine  nur  fTQchtige 
Gastfreundschaft  gewahren.  Welche  Sardousche  Technik  und  Ele- 
ganz!  Wie  hat  Alles  Hand  und  Fusz,  wie  gehen  feinsinnige  Origi- 
nalitat,  Logik,  und  Anmuth  harmonisch  mit  einander!  Hoffentlich 
spielt  Teresa  (Carreno)  das  Werk  correkt! 

If  ever  a  man  knew  the  meaning  of  that  last  word  it  was 
Hans  von  Biilow.  He  himself  was  its  living  embodiment.  Car- 
reno respected  him  for  it  and  learned.  There  was  no  need  to 
worry  on  this  occasion.  Again  he  wrote  to  Wolff  after  her 
Leipzig  concert — "Die  Senora  (Carreno)  war  pyramidal — Sie 
leistete  wahrhaft  Staunenswiirdiges,  nach  meinem  Dafiirhalten 
in  jeder  Hinsicht  noch  Vollendeteres  als  in  Berlin — Publikum 
war  ganz  aus  dem  Hauschen,  raste  formlich." 

Speaking  of  this  second  concert  the  Allgemeine  Musi\zei- 
tung  hears  a  new  note  in  her  playing:  "Frau  Carreno,"  it  says, 
"enchanted  her  audience  through  her  apparently  more  ethereal 


TERESA  CARRENO  211 

and  yet  fiery  and  brilliant  piano  playing  completely.  The  artist 
seems  to  have  become  more  and  more  accustomed  to  her  Bech- 
stein,  which  used  to  sound  harsh  now  and  then  under  her 
powerful  touch,  but  now  has  developed  the  greatest  beauty  of 
tone  in  spite  of  all  the  fullness  of  volume  which  the  fingers  of 
no  German  pianist  have  ever  surpassed." 

In  Dortmund  she  played  the  "G  minor  Fantasia  and  Fugue" 
of  Bach-Liszt.  This  collaboration  suited  her  perfectly  at  the 
time,  Bach  as  a  tribute  to  German  taste,  Liszt  for  her  own 
gratification.  To  be  a  true  interpreter  of  Bach  unadulterated, 
Carreno  at  this  time  lacked  objectivity  and  perspective.  On  the 
other  hand  the  Grieg  "Concerto"  and  its  fidus  Achates,  the 
Weber-Liszt  "Polacca,"  were  heard  in  the  majority  of  her  or- 
chestral concerts,  giving  way  occasionally  to  the  Saint-Saens  "C 
minor  Concerto"  and  the  "Hungarian  Fantasia"  of  Liszt,  an  old 
friend  resurrected. 

The  "Second  Concerto"  of  MacDowell  also  had  another 
hearing  in  Dresden  on  October  28,  1890.  As  Wolff  had  feared, 
the  press  with  few  exceptions  called  it  a  superficial  work  empty 
of  thought.  The  public  received  it  in  a  more  friendly  spirit. 
Encouraged  by  this  she  dared  to  propose  it  for  a  first  hearing 
before  the  ultraconservative  Gewandhaus  audience  of  Leipzig. 
Von  Biilow  at  first  rebelled.  A  laconic  telegram  caused  him  to 
change  his  mind.  It  read:  "No  MacDowell,  no  Carreno." 

Until  the  end  of  November  Germany  claimed  her,  a  con- 
gested tour  of  the  large  cities  of  Switzerland  followed,  often 
two  concerts  in  the  same  city,  and  more  concerts  in  Germany 
nearly  up  to  Christmas.  Important  musicians  found  that  she 
was  somebody  to  cultivate.  Max  Reger  enthused:  "Last  Friday 
I  heard  Teresa  Carreno,  the  newest  star,  decidedly  the  best 
among  the  pianists  of  today."  And,  not  least  of  her  satisfactions, 
the  income  for  1890  totaled  the  sum  of  34,134  marks. 

The  entrance  of  1891  deserved  a  new  diary,  again  of  red 
leather  gilt-edged,  embossed  with  four-leaf  clovers.  The  first 
entry  as  usual  is  a  prayer:  Que  le  bon  Dieu  soit  avec  nous  et 


212  TERESA  CARRENO 

garde  nos  enfants  en  bonne  sante.  On  that  same  day  Carreno, 
who  had  spent  Christmas  in  Montmorency  with  the  "babies," 
left  for  Austria. 

Hermann  Wolff  meanwhile  is  relentlessly  training  his  new 
star  to  be  as  reliable  in  business  as  in  profession.  When  she  side- 
steps her  obligations  or  procrastinates  in  their  fulfillment  he 
severely  calls  her  to  task:  "Chere  amie,  pensez  un  peu  a  l'avenir. 
Vous  n'avez  pas  l'intention  de  delaisser  la  musique.  Mes  so- 
cietes  sont  habituees  a  vos  promptes  reponses — nous  ferons  bien 
de  n'y  rien  changer.  Je  vous  prie  done  de  me  repondre  le  plus 
vite  possible  a  toutes  mes  questions." 

It  was  to  be  a  memorable  year  in  that  it  marked  her  first 
visit  to  Russia.  On  January  28  in  St.  Petersburg  Carrefio's  diary, 
in  general  kept  for  her  itinerary  and  her  expenses  exclusively, 
records:  "Saw  Rubinstein  for  the  first  time  after  twenty  years." 
During  her  brief  stay  she  dined  at  his  house  on  every  free  night. 

The  Russian  tour,  lasting  well  into  February,  was  not  either 
critically  or  financially  successful.  Carreno  was  as  always  popu- 
lar with  her  audiences,  less  so  with  the  critics.  The  St.  Peters- 
burg Herald  finds  that  she  too  often  goes  beyond  the  measure 
of  the  beautiful  and  the  noble,  that  a  Chopin  Nocturne  can't 
stand  a  forte  like  the  Schubert-Tausig,  March,  and  states  that 
the  "Romance"  of  Tschaikowsky  could  scarcely  be  recognized, 
so  changed  and  exaggerated  was  its  interpretation.  "Great  ex- 
citement was  created  by  a  trill  which  lasted  about  half  an  hour, 
more  beautiful  pianistically  than  musically."  Among  Carrefio's 
complaints  not  the  least  was  that  in  default  of  a  Bechstein  she 
was  obliged  to  play  a  piano  of  second  grade. 

Came  a  short  and  in  comparison  heavenly  interlude  of  con- 
certs in  Germany.  March  again  called  her  away,  this  time  to 
Scandinavia  where  in  April  the  King  of  Sweden  conferred 
upon  her  in  person  the  gold  medal  "Litteris  et  Artibus."  Then 
at  last  she  might  return  to  the  place  that  such  as  it  was  meant 
home  to  her,  the  Askanischer  Hof. 


It  was  foreordained  that  the  most  talked-of  pianists  of  the  day, 
both  under  the  same  management,  in  the  course  of  time  must 
meet.  On  April  10,  1891,  a  date  she  would  never  forget,  Car- 
reno sat  gossiping  over  the  teacups,  taking  unofficial  lessons  in 
the  ways  of  the  musical  world  from  Louise  Wolff,  the  one  best 
qualified  to  give  them.  A  caller  was  announced  and  greeted 
with  the  enthusiasm  Frau  Wolff  reserved  for  old  friends.  Be- 
fore the  formula  of  introduction  had  blurred  first  impressions, 
intuition  had  registered  a  warning  which  was  to  haunt  Carrefio 
in  retrospect.  Such  might  have  been  the  effect  upon  her  if  a 
snake  had  suddenly  crossed  her  path.  Eyes  seconded  the  shock 
of  repulsion.  She  thoroughly  disliked  this  gnomelike  person 
who,  careless  in  dress  with  stringy  hair  cut  long  and  a  straggly 
mustache,  reminded  her  of  nothing  so  much  as  of  a  tree  that 
badly  needed  pruning.  She  resented  his  high  voice  minor  in 
inflection,  the  sinister  look  of  his  eyes  peering  through  narrow 
slits,  eyes  that  saw  too  much  and  revealed  nothing.  His  hand 
felt  flabby  in  her  own  hearty  grasp.  So  this  was  he  with  whom 
she  had  so  often  been  compared!  So  this  was  the  great  Eugen 
d'  Albert! 

Carreno  mentally  added  this  encounter  to  the  list  of  her  dis- 
enchantments.  She  listened  distantly  as  he  complimented  her 
with  effusion  upon  a  recent  performance  of  the  Grieg  "Con- 
certo." Unflattered  she  used  her  usual  stencil  in  reply:  "You  are 
very  kind,"  and  then  fell  silent.  Not  his  new  Gronberger  dog, 
not  his  recent  visit  to  the  United  States,  not  the  villa  he  had  just 
bought  in  the  suburb  Lichterfelde,  not  even  the  fact  that  it  was 
his  birthday  roused  her  interest.  She  soon  invented  an  excuse 
to  leave.  Thus  on  a  deceptive  cadence,  this  first  meeting  ended. 
D'Albert  on  his  part  was  both  musically  and  personally  im- 
pressed. Carreno's  indifference  nettled  him.  Women  generally 
capitulated  at  sight. 

Louise  Wolff  knew  that  nothing  would  give  him  greater 
pleasure  than  to  see  Carreno  in  one  of  his  concerts.  Diplomat 
that  she  was,  she  succeeded  in  bringing  her  to  the  managerial 


2i4  TERESA  CARRENO 

box  on  the  occasion  of  a  public  rehearsal  of  the  Sternsche  Gesang 
Verein.  D'Albert  was  to  be  heard  in  Beethoven  s  "G  major 
Concerto." 

On  that  day  the  Philharmonie  was  sold  out  as  for  her  own 
concerts.  But  the  box  in  which  she  sat  was  to  her  satisfaction 
the  focus  of  every  opera  glass.  At  last  the  lights  were  lowered. 
D'Albert  looking  more  gnomelike  than  ever  came  pattering 
across  the  stage  escorted  by  wild  applause.  He  made  a  jerky 
bow  that  ludicrously  threw  a  lock  of  hair  into  his  eye.  Carreno 
settled  down  to  the  prospect  of  a  half  hour  with  a  concerto  she 
did  not  care  for  and  an  artist  she  positively  disliked. 

Then  serenely  as  if  from  the  upper  air  there  unveiled  itself 
that  most  touching  of  introductions  with  all  the  simplicity  of 
childhood,  all  the  philosophy  of  ageless  wisdom.  Carreno  felt  a 
catch  in  her  throat.  She  had  not  realized  how  lovely  it  was. 
Leaning  forward  she  waited  for  the  next  entrance  of  the  piano 
as  for  a  revelation,  and  a  revelation  it  was.  What  did  it  matter, 
how  he  looked,  how  he  talked.  That  man  could  play  with  a 
purity  beyond  imagination.  Not  since  Rubinstein  had  a  pianist 
given  her  such  affecting  happiness.  Never  had  she  found  such 
depths  of  beauty  in  that  all-too-short  slow  movement,  such 
impertinence  in  the  rondo.  A  thousand  beguiling  little  devils 
seemed  to  be  dancing  with  harmlessly  pointed  pitchforks.  She 
laughed  aloud.  When  the  "Concerto"  was  finished,  Carreno  in- 
sisted upon  being  taken  backstage,  shining  with  the  thrill  of 
hearing  herself  outplayed,  much  to  the  amusement  of  Louise 
Wolff,  who  did  not  hesitate  to  throw  in  her  "I-told-you-so."  Here 
indeed  was  true  greatness.  It  scarcely  bothered  her  that  d'Albert 
was  basking  in  the  idolatry  of  his  adorers,  that  they  knelt  on 
the  stage  and  kissed  his  hands,  for  now  she  could  understand. 
Before  her  very  eyes,  through  the  magic  of  Beethoven,  the 
dwarf  had  been  transformed  into  a  giant.  She  could  not  resist 
the  temptation  to  dine  that  evening  at  the  house  of  a  mere  ac- 
quaintance, because  the  invitation  was  baited  with  the  promise 
that  d'Albert  would  be  there. 

On   his   part  the   approval   of   Carreno   affected   d'Albert 


TERESA  CARRENO  215 

strangely.  Her  innate  generosity  of  spirit  enfolded  him  com- 
pletely. Her  compelling  power  was  full  of  a  magnetism  to 
which  he  strongly  responded.  In  her  warming  presence  what 
might  he  not  become!  D'Albert  felt  it  important  to  see  her 
again.  The  season  now  ending  had  been  a  crowded  one  for 
both.  Hermann  Wolff  had  seen  to  that.  Now  their  paths  inten- 
tionally or  not  crossed  more  often.  Occasional  absence  added  its 
spicy  tang  to  their  meetings.  They  were  seen  together  at  con- 
certs. Each  played  at  the  meeting  of  the  Tonkiinstler-Verein  at 
the  end  of  May  and  in  turn  applauded  the  other.  D'Albert  had 
chosen  the  Martucci  "Concerto,"  Carreno,  as  usual  under  protest, 
the  MacDowell  "Concerto."  The  audience  received  her  well  to 
the  extent  of  demanding  a  repetition  of  its  prickling  Scherzo. 
MacDowell  had  a  harder  stand  against  the  ultraconservative 
body  of  critics.  One  reviewer  used  his  imagination:  "It  was  as 
if  little  figurines  on  a  what-not  began  to  dance,  the  only  humor- 
ous touch  being  that  a  whole  orchestra  had  to  play  for  them, 
much  ado  about  nothing  the  final  outcome."  He  admitted  that  it 
merited  the  encore  given  it,  adding  however  that  the  rest  of  the 
"Concerto"  was  not  worth  mentioning,  and  that  "after  the  pas- 
sionate pianist  had  left  the  stage,  a  large  part  of  the  audience  also 
fled  from  the  hall  before  the  Bruckner  'Te  Deum!  "  The  Bbrsen 
Courier  noted  a  momentary  loss  of  memory  on  Carreno's  part  in 
the  Presto,  one  for  which  d'Albert  might  easily  be  held  responsi- 
ble. The  Vossische  Zeitung  on  the  other  hand  found  the  "Con- 
certo" full  of  imagination,  grateful  for  the  pianist  though  lack- 
ing in  clarity  of  form  in  the  last  movement,  and  the  applause  and 
profusion  of  flowers  with  which  the  pianist  was  overwhelmed 
noteworthy. 

The  outcome  of  the  season  surpassed  expectation,  and  Wolff, 
the  secondary  beneficiary,  had  every  right  to  gloat  over  it  and  to 
count  upon  an  even-more-glowing  future.  In  the  highest  of 
spirits  he  writes:  "Ne  vous  fachez  pas  de  la  difference  de  vos 
cachets  de  l'ancienne  epoque  '89-91  et  de  ceux  de  l'avenir,  pro- 
curez-vous  une  poche  de  cuire  plus  grande  que  celle  que  je  con- 
nais  et  qui  ne  suffira  plus  pour  ces  cachets." 


216  TERESA  CARRENO 

On  June  2,  but  added  in  retrospect  later,  stands  a  startling  entry 
in  Carreno's  diary:  "Went  with  my  Liebchen  to  hear  his  Quar- 
tette played  by  Joachim's  Quartette  at  the  Singakademie."  The 
day  following  holds  another  revealing  sentence :  "Told  my  whole 
history  to  my  Liebchen."  For  privacy  they  took  the  train  to  Lud- 
wigsfelde  one  day  in  June,  walking  for  hours  through  the  coun- 
try they  both  loved  and  picnicking  in  a  grove  where  only  the 
sunbeams  found  entrance  and  thrushes  sang  their  obbligato.  On 
this  particular  day  there  was  so  much  to  be  said,  so  much  to  be 
confided,  that  the  last  train  for  Berlin  had  left  before  they 
thought  about  so  practical  a  detail.  Both  d'Albert  and  Carreno 
perpetuated  this  day  in  her  diary,  she  simply  with  the  words: 
"Went  to  Ludwigsfelde  with  Liebchen."  He  more  specifically  in 
German:  "Alone  together  in  Ludwigsfelde.  Rode  to  Berlin  on 
a  freight  train.  Arrived  at  two  in  the  morning.  It  was  very  nice, 
as  always  when  we  are  together." 

Musical  Berlin  wagged  its  tongue  and  looked  tolerantly  on. 
For  d'Albert,  eleven  years  Carreno's  junior,  new  vistas  of  delight 
were  opening.  The  more  experienced  Carreno,  who  had  so  reso- 
lutely cut  herself  off  from  the  past  she  had  outgrown,  found  life 
again  worth  living,  not  for  the  sake  of  her  children  alone,  but 
for  its  own  radiant  self.  Then  for  the  moment  happiness  was 
clouded  by  separation.  After  dinner  together  at  WolfTs  one  eve- 
ning Carreno  left  for  Paris,  d'Albert  for  Switzerland. 

As  if  from  another  world,  another  century,  Tag  wrote  once 
more,  not  believing  in  a  final  break.  Carreno  gave  answer  with 
categorical,  conclusive  brevity. 

She  was  intent  upon  making  the  most  of  her  unscheduled  sum- 
mer. One  week  in  Berlin  had  proved  that  their  happiness,  d' Al- 
bert's as  well  as  hers,  depended  upon  being  together.  More  and 
more  he  needed  the  lift  her  abounding  vitality  gave  him,  and 
she  in  turn  a  deeper  insight  into  a  nature  that  revealed  itself  so 
divinely  to  her  in  sound.  Music  and  pity  had  drawn  her  to  mis- 
adventure with  fimile  Sauret,  music  and  loneliness  had  led  her 
to  seek  refuge  with  Giovanni  Tagliapietra.  Music  and  true  love 


TERESA  CARRENO  217 

now  at  last  pointed  with  compelling  finger  to  Eugen  d'Albert. 

An  intuitive  person  easily  becomes  a  fatalist.  Carreno  was  no 
exception.  This  was  their  destiny.  Two  weeks  in  Montmorency 
were  enough  to  assure  her  that  the  children  were  in  perfect 
health.  The  longing  to  be  with  d'Albert  became  irresistible.  On 
June  21  her  diary  tells  the  tale:  "Left  for  Wiesbaden  to  go  and 
meet  Liebchen."  Five  enthralling  days  together  in  Neuchatel  did 
not  suffice.  Neither  could  she  be  separated  from  her  "babies."  To- 
gether she  and  d'Albert  made  a  vital  decision.  The  entire  sum- 
mer should  be  theirs.  While  Carreno  returned  to  Montmorency 
to  prepare  her  children  for  the  journey,  d'Albert  found  the  ideal 
place  for  their  companionate  holiday  in  Chaumont.  There  Car- 
reno joined  him  on  July  9.  D'Albert's  piano  arrived  before  him 
at  the  Grand  Hotel.  Carreno  took  a  chalet  for  herself,  the  chil- 
dren/and Josephine. 

Overworked  and  overtired  as  she  was,  life  in  this  remote  para- 
dise, secluded  with  those  she  loved  about  her,  brought  the  re- 
freshment born  of  untouchable  happiness.  On  long  mountain 
walks  she  discovered  that  both  she  and  d'Albert  liked  to  live 
without  pretension,  preferably  in  the  country,  that  they  longed 
equally  for  peaceful  home  surroundings,  that  they  both  loved 
children.  Seeing  Carreno  with  hers  d'Albert  wished  that  his  son, 
Wolfgang,  might  have  had  such  a  mother  instead  of  the  flighty, 
if  charmingj  actress  he  had  married  at  the  age  of  twenty  and 
was  in  the  process  of  divorcing  on  grounds  of  extravagance  and 
weak-minded  flirtations.  "With  the  constant  inspiration  of  Te- 
resa's presence,  what  might  I  not  compose,"  thought  d'Albert. 
"With  him  beside  me,  how  might  I  not  play,"  sang  Carreno  in 
her  heart.  To  him  she  was  the  guardian  of  that  sacred  fire  which 
he  needed  to  enflame  his  own  creative  urge;  to  her  he  meant 
the  renewal  of  youth.  That  this  perfect  vacation  was  an  inviolate 
secret  even  from  Wolff  himself — so  they  believed — made  it  all 
the  more  enchanting,  and  it  was  understandable  that  they  wished 
it  to  endure  as  long  as  possible. 

In  order  to  put  off  that  inevitable  first  concert  of  autumn, 
Carreno  invented  excuses,  feigned  illness.  At  first  Wolff  in  a 


218  TERESA  CARRENO 

letter  full  of  his  old  banter  is  unsuspecting  and  hopes  that  she 
is  feeling  better.  He  writes : 

Mme.  Louise  Wolf?  epouse  du  sousigne,  mere  personelle  de  tous  ses 
enfants  (connus)  est  encore  a  Kufstein.  Elle  reviendra  lundi  prochain 
poussee  par  une  impatience  tres  naturelle,  quand  on  a  un  epoux  tel 
que  votre  ami  Wolff.  .  .  .  Mon  baiser  directoral  et  amical  vole  vers 
vous,  chere  amie,  je  vous  benis  en  vous  serrant  la  main  de  tremolo. 
Votre  ravissant  Wolff. 

In  September  Wolff  is  still  in  equable  mood.  "Vous  renoncez 
a  Braunschweig;  Riedel  [the  conductor]  en  pleurera,"  he  writes 
and  hopes  that  she  is  well  disposed  after  so  long  a  vacation. 
Toward  the  end  of  the  month  he  becomes  restive,  demands  to 
know  what  her  plans  are,  whether  he  can  still  reach  her  at  Chau- 
mont.  He  takes  her  to  task  for  being  slow  in  sending  programs, 
for  refusing  engagements  in  October,  and  begs  her  urgently  to 
begin  her  tour  with  Hanover  in  early  November. 

Meanwhile  Carreno  had  left  Chaumont  on  September  26  to 
settle  her  affairs  in  Paris  alone.  Her  diary  speaks  tersely  and  elo- 
quently. 

1  Oct.  Had  telegram  from  Liebchen  saying  he  had  bought  house. 

4  Oct.  Left  for  Dresden. 

5  Oct.  Arrived  Dresden  at  midnight.  Liebchen  met  me  on  the  way. 
Babies  will  thank  God. 

6  Oct.  Dresden  Hotel  Kaiserhof  [where  she  had  registered  under 
the  name  of  Josephine  de  Paul]. 

7  Oct.  Went  to  see  our  house  for  the  first  time.  Found  it  beautiful. 

12  Oct.  Went  into  our  lovely  home  at  Cos  wig.  Slept  there  for  the 
first  time. 

13  Oct.  Home  with  all  my  darlings.  Thank  God! 

Villa  Palstring,  in  Coswig  on  the  Elbe  between  Dresden  and 
Meissen,  was  rechristened  "Villa  Teresa"  and  became  the  setting 
for  their  idyll.  Its  walls  of  gray  stone  offered  the  space  and  se- 
clusion they  craved.  Feverishly  working  against  time  Teresa  or- 
dered furniture,  china,  curtains,  and  at  last  food  supplies.  She 


oo 


1 


TERESA  CARRENO  219 

directed  painters,  plumbers,  and  carpenters,  thoroughly  reveling 
in  the  confusion,  while  two  Bechstein  grands  lay  mutely,  accus- 
ingly on  their  sides  in  the  Coswig  station,  where  upon  some  pre- 
text Carreno  and  d'Albert  had  separately  required  them  to  be 
delivered.  What  did  concerts  matter  when  she  was  preparing  a 
home  for  her  children,  for  her  husband,  the  first  home  she  had 
really  ever  owned ! 

Wolff  grows  more  and  more  impatient.  Carreno's  erratic 
changing  of  her  programs  makes  him  nervous.  It  is  more  than 
probable  that  he  knows  her  secret,  yet  does  not  feel  free  to  speak 
of  it  except  in  innuendos.  On  November  3  he  grumbles : 

J'ai  ete  deux  fois  a  la  gare  croyant  que  vous  arriveriez  pour  repartir 
pour  Eberswalde.  Probablement  vous  etes  arrivee  avant  hier  soir  deja. 
Enfin  je  vois  que  vous  evitez  de  me  voir.  Je  ne  connais  pas  vos  motifs 
— mais  je  ne  peux  pas  m'empecher  d'etre  tres  etonne.  Jusqu'ici  vous 
aviez  toujours  cru  bon,  avant  le  commencement  de  vos  voyages,  de 
venir  causer  de  tout  I  Enfin  je  me  courbe! 

A  few  days  after  he  finds  more  cause  for  dissatisfaction.  Carreno 
must  either  have  failed  to  arrive  in  time  for  the  rehearsal  in 
Hanover  or  have  forgotten  to  bring  the  score  of  the  concerto.  For 
what  other  reason  could  it  have  been  that  she  played  only  solos. 

Carreno  did  not  take  these  admonitions  too  much  to  heart.  She 
was  thoroughly  absorbed,  happy  and  busy.  Besides,  there  was  no 
time  to  lose.  D'Albert  was  committed  to  a  tour  in  the  United 
States,  beginning  in  March.  Every  day  counted.  November  saw 
them  practically  installed,  the  pianos  set  up  in  opposite  wings. 
Laughingly  they  thumbed  their  noses  at  the  public  they  had,  so 
they  believed,  successfully  fooled.  A  concert  journey  for  either 
one  or  the  other  was  a  disagreeable  interruption,  a  return  to  earth 
from  a  heaven  all  their  own. 

Carreno's  diary  reads : 

4  Nov.    Greifswald.  Liebchen  in  Parchim. 

5  Nov.    Home!  Liebchen  zu  Hause  so  Gott  will! 

7  Nov.    Start  for  Hanover. 

8  Nov.    Hanover. 


ii  Dec.    Liebchen 
12  Dec.    Liebchen 


220  TERESA  CARRENO 

13  Nov.    Elberfeld  450m.  Liebchen  came  to  stay  over  Sunday  with 

me. 
19  Nov.    Wiesbaden  at  6  p.m.  Liebchen  came  to  meet  me.  Stayed 

at  Biebrich. 
22  Nov.    Berlin  Askanischer  Hof. 
24  Nov.    Returned  home  by  the  8  a.m.  train.  Found  babies  well, 

thank  God. 
7  Dec.    Liebchen  in  Wien. 
9  Dec.    Liebchen  in  Budapest. 
10  Dec.    Liebchen  in  Wien. 
in  Graz. 
in  Wien. 

13  Dec.    So  Gott  will  Liebchen  zu  Haus. 
15  Dec.     [Carreno  once  more  enters  her  own  concert  laconically] 

Konigsberg  700  M. 
22  Dec.    Erster  Tag  [in  d Albert's  hand.  It  was  Carrefio's  birthday]. 

Carreno  as  well  as  d'Albert  had  forgotten  that  the  two  most 
photographed  pianists  could  not  hope  to  live  long  incognito.  One 
morning  the  Signale  brought  the  paragraph:  "A  strange  bit  of 
news  from  the  realm  of  art  comes  to  us  by  way  of  Dresden.  Eugen 
d'Albert  and  Frau  Teresa  Carreno  are  said  to  be  married.  The 
pair  has  bought  itself  a  house  in  Coswig."  Paradise  was  invaded. 
D'Albert,  true  to  his  conventional  background,  had  long  urged 
official  marriage.  Carreno,  equally  true  to  her  philosophy, 
thought  it  simpler  to  evade  that  issue,  but  from  now  on  signs 
herself  Teresa  Carreno-d' Albert.  The  upheaval  in  musical  circles 
that  had  for  a  long  time  gossiped  about  something  of  this  kind 
can  be  left  to  the  imagination.  Since  it  was  sure  to  influence  the 
box  office  favorably  on  the  principle  that  any  kind  of  publicity 
is  better  than  none,  Wolff  could  afford  to  resign  himself  to  the 
inevitable.  On  the  eighth  of  December  he  writes :  "II  est  possible 
que  dimanche  matin  je  serai  a  Coswig  pour  vous  voir  et  votre 
mari."  And  so  with  the  unalterable  fact  brought  to  light  excite- 
ment gradually  quieted  down.  "Artists  are  that  way"  was  as 
good  a  conclusion  as  any,  and  following  upon  it  the  unanimous 
prophecy:  "It  cannot  last." 

In  the  sanctuary  outlined  by  the  high  walls  of  their  garden  the 


TERESA  CARRENO  221 

two  artists  were  attempting  to  prove  the  contrary,  turning  with 
new  zest  to  their  profession.  D'Albert  resented  every  concert  that 
took  him  away  from  the  opera  he  was  composing.  Carreno  went 
back  to  her  piano,  and  learned  from  the  husband  of  her  admira- 
tion to  bring  a  new  sense  of  measure  to  her  interpretations.  The 
Tschaikowsky  "Concerto  in  B  flat  minor"  was  added  to  her  list. 
Humbly  Carreno  one  day  asked  Billow,  under  whose  direction 
she  was  to  play  this  work,  to  give  her  a  lesson  in  its  reading.  "I 
don't  give  lessons,"  growled  the  master.  Carreno  smoothly  re- 
plied: "Indeed  you  do.  Every  time  you  conduct,  whenever  you 
play,  you  give  a  lesson  to  me."  So  tactful  a  compliment  unruffled 
even  a  Hans  von  Bulow. 

A  quarrelsome  friendship  was  theirs,  but  one  elastic  enough 
to  stand  the  strain,  kept  so  by  common  admiration.  Bulow  always 
stood  up  for  the  masculine  in  music.  So  he  writes  in  true  form: 
"Stupendous,  flabbergasting,  but  for  the  most  time  inartistically, 
Teresa  played  like  an  acrobat."  Then  he  voices  the  hope  that 
musically  d'Albert's  better  nature  will  triumph  over  Teresa's. 
From  its  beginning  the  Tschaikowsky  "Concerto"  was  particu- 
larly Carreno's  own.  Who  could  forget  the  excitement  of  those 
smashing  introductory  chords,  thrown  with  effortless  freedom 
into  the  keys,  turning  into  sound  so  rich  and  powerful  that  many 
an  orchestra  had  difficulty  in  holding  its  own  against  them  ? 

D'Albert  and  Carreno  had  many  friends  in  common.  One  of 
those  most  treasured  was  Johannes  Brahms.  At  a  dinner  party  he 
was  inveighing  against  the  women  pianists  who  insisted  upon 
cluttering  the  concert  season  with  their  weak-minded  music. 
Carreno  accepted  the  challenge.  "You  forget,  Meister,  that  I  am 
here,  and  I  am  a  woman,"  she  good-naturedly  reminded  him. 
"You  are  not  a  pianiste,  you  are  a  pianist,"  answered  Brahms, 
who  was  not  noted  for  making  pretty  speeches. 

One  day  in  Vienna  he  and  d'Albert  were  conversing  together 
over  beer  glasses,  the  subject  being  matrimony.  "Why  have  you 
never  married,  Meister?"  asked  d'Albert. 

"That  is  quite  simple;  because  I  have  never  found  a  wife  like 
yours,"  he  answered. 


222  TERESA  CARRENO 

Love  is  the  great  lubricant ;  it  reaches  the  most  strangely  assem- 
bled parts,  and  keeps  the  machine  running  with  no  apparent  fric- 
tion. It  is  the  great  stabilizer  which  can  hold  two  personalities  as 
divergent  as  London  is  from  Caracas  in  harmonious  balance. 
Carreno  and  d'Albert  had  much  to  learn  from  each  other.  Of  the 
two  Carreno  in  spite  of  her  maturity  was  the  more  teachable. 
Under  his  influence  her  taste  developed.  She  gradually  discarded 
the  flashy  works  with  which  her  programs  had  once  bristled. 
Vogrich,  Gottschalk,  and  even  Rubinstein  disappeared.  That 
MacDowell  suffered  the  same  fate  was  due  to  d'Albert's  prejudice 
against  him  both  personally  and  as  a  musician — he  had  once  been 
obliged  to  officiate  at  the  second  piano,  when  MacDowell  had 
played  his  "First  Concerto"  for  Liszt  in  Weimar — a  prejudice  in 
which  jealousy  was  probably  not  an  inconsiderable  factor. 

Constructively  d'Albert  was  without  doubt  responsible  for  a 
new  control,  a  new  inner  unity  in  her  readings.  Carreno  more 
seldom  let  herself  go  to  wild  extremes  of  length  and  height  for 
the  mere  joy  of  being  able  to  do  so.  Her  tone  took  on  subtle 
shades.  As  never  before  she  studied  to  find  deeper  values  in 
music  and  appreciably  enlarged  her  repertoire. 

Being  the  wife  of  d'Albert  involved  more  than  musical  give 
and  take.  For  a  young  man  of  twenty-six  he  was  already  set  in 
his  ways.  At  sixteen  he  had  clearly  realized  that  he  was  too  easily 
influenced,  and  had  tried  his  best  to  steel  himself  against  this 
failing.  Once  in  the  land  of  his  idolatry,  the  Germany  he  loved 
with  the  same  passion  he  brought  to  his  hatred  of  England,  he 
became  intoxicated  by  too  sudden  and  phenomenal  success,  al- 
lowing himself  to  succumb  to  the  pampering  and  flattery  of 
women.  This  was  his  besetting  curse,  until  one  or  another  became 
indispensable  to  his  happiness  and — so  he  thought — to  his  crea- 
tive unfolding.  Until  his  death  women  were  made  to  play  a  con- 
tributing but  a  subordinate  part.  Inasmuch  as  they  gave  his  musi- 
cal imagination  wing  he  valued  them.  When  it  sagged,  as  sooner 
or  later  it  must,  their  usefulness  automatically  ceased.  The  one 
who  was  willing,  as  selflessly  as  a  Senta,  to  drown  herself  in  the 
task  of  creating  the  conditions  under  which  d'Albert's  music 


TERESA  CARRENO  223 

could  flourish  uninhibited,  was  die  one  apt  to  hold  him  longest. 

His  first  wife,  Louise  Salingre,  suited  the  boy  of  twenty  very 
well  at  the  beginning.  She  laughed  at  his  peculiarities,  made  light 
conversation  when  he  felt  taciturn,  protected  him  even  from  his 
mother-in-law.  Patiently  she  had  followed  him  through  the 
labyrinth  of  his  eccentricities,  even  to  the  point  of  taking  part  in 
spiritualistic  seances  that  bored  her  as  much  as  they  fascinated 
him.  The  crisis  in  their  marital  relations  came  because  of  a  basic 
conflict  in  their  natures.  Louise  refused  to  conform  to  d' Albert's 
standards  of  penurious  carefulness  verging  on  the  stingy.  That, 
rather  than  the  love  affairs  which  d' Albert  used  as  a  pretext  for 
divorce,  brought  about  the  crisis.  He  insisted  upon  the  custody  of 
their  son  Wolfgang,  for  whom  as  for  all  children  he  felt  real 
affection. 

Considering  her  past  Carreno  entered  upon  her  third  marriage 
with  surprising  optimism.  Nomadic  life  had  accentuated  domes- 
tic leanings.  There  could  be  no  more  thrilling  adventure  than 
that  of  building  a  home,  organizing  it  on  the  ample  scale  con- 
sistent with  her  income — d' Albert  had  bought  the  house;  she 
would  keep  it  in  running  order  and  pay  the  bills — and  in  general 
playing  the  part  of  the  perfect  German  Hausfrau  a  la  d'Albert 
whenever  she  did  not  have  to  be  the  Meisterin  of  the  platform. 
This  meant  not  only  submitting  herself  and  her  children  to  the 
wearing  of  the  Jaeger  woolens  prescribed  by  Dr.  Lahmann  of 
Dresden's  famous  Weisser  Hirsch,  but  even  taking  part  in  the 
daily  exercises  upon  which  d'Albert  insisted.  Feet  bare,  hair  fly- 
ing, clad  in  flapping  wrappers  they  followed  their  leader.  These 
early  morning  rites  in  the  garden  must  have  provided  amuse- 
ment for  many  a  passer-by.  It  meant  cold-water  treatments  and 
the  supplanting  of  the  conventional  doctor  by  exponents  of  Na- 
turheil\unde.  For  milk  they  grew  to  depend  largely  upon  the 
two  goats  in  their  stable.  Wholeheartedly  Carreno  adopted  his 
theories  for  her  own,  even  to  the  education  of  children,  although 
in  this  field  his  experience  was  much  more  limited  than  hers. 

This  might  easily  have  become  the  source  of  many  a  misunder- 
standing, but  it  was  sidetracked  as  an  issue  by  the  departure  of 


224  TERESA  CARRENO 

d' Albert  for  America.  Carreiio  had  resisted  the  impulse  to  ac- 
company him  on  the  tour  in  which  her  husband  was  to  appear 
in  thirty  concerts  with  Nikisch  and  his  orchestra.  Before  sailing 
he  writes  in  nostalgic  German :  "And  yet  this,  if  God  will,  only 
short  separation  is  dreadful  too!" — and  farther  on,  the  first  cloud 
in  the  blue,  he  accuses  himself:  "Why  do  I  ever  make  you  sad?" 
On  February  22,  1892,  Carreno  tells  her  diary:  "My  darling  left 
for  America  via  London  at  7:22  p.  m.  May  God  take  him  safely 
across  and  bring  him  safely  back  and  help  me  to  bear  this  awful 
separation."  And  on  March  4:  "Liebchen  arrived  safely  in  New 
York.  The  Lord  be  millions  of  times  thanked  for  the  great 
mercy." 

Barely  in  New  York  he  takes  up  his  pen  again  in  homesick 
vein :  " — I  am  so  happy  you  are  still  in  Coswig,  in  our  house,  our 
home — I  feel  so  much  quieter  knowing  you  there."  And  he  goes 
on:  "All  about  us  and  me  was  in  the  paper  today.  The  people 
here  are  much  more  inquisitive  than  in  Europe." 

In  the  middle  of  March  he  expresses  himself  more  fully  in  his 
finely  pinched  writing: 

— And  how  loving,  how  sweet  you  write,  my  beloved. — Your  letters 
are  a  great,  great  consolation  to  me,  and  I  live  on  them,  and  they  give 
me  strength  to  bear  this  dreadful  separation.  My  love,  I  was  so  sad 
that  in  addition  to  everything  you  had  that  anxiety  about  Mrs.  Mac- 
Do  well  [Edward's  mother];  she  is  pretty  well  now,  and  it  is  no 
wonder  that  she  was  ill,  the  way  she  and  all  the  people  here  live. 
Think  of  this  drinking  ice-water,  coffee,  and  eating  two  meat  courses 
at  eight  o'clock  in  the  evening  with  the  children — in  a  room  that  has 
certainly  18  Reaumur.  That  the  people  live  at  all  is  a  wonder.  That 
we  live  as  we  do  and  that  I  am  as  pedantic  as  I  am  often  makes  you 
laugh,  my  darling,  but  it  is  a  great  safe-guard  to  us,  and  knowing 
that  you  live  so  too  always  makes  me  a  little  quieter.  All  the  people 
in  America  live  like  lunatics,  as  it  is  impossible  by  this  method  of 
living  not  to  be  sick  sooner  or  later.  My  beloved,  I  don't  drink  much 
water,  and  never  out  of  faucets —  And  how  these  artists  live!  Zum 
Beispiel — I  told  you  I  arrived  with  Nikisch  Sunday  evening  eleven 
o'clock;  instead  of  going  to  bed  as  I  did,  I  hear  he  sat  up  with  others 
playing  poker  until  six  o'clock  in  the  morning!  And  then  Paderewski 


TERESA  CARRENO  225 

— he  seems  never  to  have  gone  to  bed  before  eight  or  nine  o'clock 
in  the  morning.  And  then  when  they  are  ill  or  nervous  they  blame 
America! 

Altogether  in  a  bad  humor  he  complains  that  Mrs.  MacDowell 
constantly  reminds  him  of  the  fact  that  he  is  number  three,  that 
she  keeps  wanting  him  to  do  something  for  Giovanni  and  Ar- 
turo,  and  continues :  "Never  have  two  human  beings  needed  each 
other  more  than  we."  He  sees  "the  whole  world  in  black,"  but 
"as  a  light  in  all  this  darkness  is  my  really  great  success." 

The  following  day  sees  him  in  Baltimore.  He  speaks  of  a  long 
walk  through  the  streets  of  Washington : 

"My  picture  sitting  at  the  Knabe  piano  is  in  every  shop  window," 
he  finds  worth  reporting,  also  that  he  stopped  for  a  shave,  and  he 
apologizes :  "My  beloved,  I  can't  do  it  myself.  I  tried,  and  wanted  to 
do  it,  as  you  bought  the  razor  for  me,  and  I  know  it  pleases  you, — 
but  I  scratched  myself  awfully,  and  my  face  hurt  long  afterwards 
in  spite  of  my  taking  a  new  knife;  I  am  not  up  to  it!" — Then  he  goes 
on  in  German:  "I  played  the  Berceuse  as  encore  and  played  exqui- 
sitely. ...  If  only  Terry  had  heard  it  .  .  ." — and  then  adds :  "It  is  my 
sole,  my  only  joy  to  write  to  you,  to  pour  out  my  heart  to  you,  my 
only  good,  adored  wife."  Later  a  postscript :  "A  propos  of  Fr.  S. :  I 
believe  if  I  had  not  told  her  that  I  must  practice,  she  would  still  sit 
here.  I  find  all  the  people  so  lacking  in  sensitivity.  Why  does  she  speak 
with  me  about  Sauret  and  Tagliapietra  ?  Does  she  think  she  is  giving 
me  great  pleasure  thereby?" 

The  next  day,  back  again  in  the  Hotel  Normandie,  New  York, 
he  continues  at  length: 

"Of  all  places  I  like  best  to  be  here,  because  it  is  a  little — only  a  few 
hours  nearer  to  you.  They  would  not  cease  recalling  me  after  the 
Concerto  (Chopin)  which  I  really  played  very,  very  well,  my  be- 
loved Darling;  I  wish  you  had  heard  me!  You  never  heard  me  play 
the  Chopin  Concerto,  and  it  is  the  piece  I  certainly  play  best.  I  wished 
and  longed  that  you  had  been  there!  I  imagined  how  nice,  how  sweet 
it  would  be,  if  you  were  sitting  in  the  gallery,  and  how  you  would 
appreciate  and  love  every  point,  everything  I  did  well!"  [he  never 
sees  himself  in  the  audience  listening  to  Carreno  however]  "I  played 


226  TERESA  CARRENO 

(as  I  always  do)  as  if  You  heard  me!  The  solo  pieces  I  did  not  play 
so  well. — I  can't  play  the  Impromptu  of  Schubert  any  more.  I  have 
already  played  it  so  much.  It  is  a  piece  that  requires  inspiration  and 
then — it  is  the  piece  Terry  loved  to  hear  me  play,  and  I  can't  play  it 
any  more  without  her  being  there,  and  it  seems  to  me  to  be  sacrilege! 
In  the  Valse  Impromptu  of  Liszt  I  thought  so  much  of  you  my  darling 
— I  was  quite  away  in  my  thoughts  and  didn't  think  about  the  piece 
at  all — then  all  of  a  sudden  I  didn't  know  where  I  was  and  fumbled 
about  a  little — that  I  know  how  to  do  very  well! — I  don't  think  that 
anyone  noticed  it." 

Again  he  is  amazed  that  someone  wanted  to  talk  about  New 
Rochelle  to  him  "with  the  usual  delicacy  of  the  world."  In  Ger- 
many nobody  bothers  Carreno  about  his  number  one,  he  com- 
ments : 

My  love,  my  darling  [he  continues]  now  I  am  going  to  tell  you  some- 
thing that  seems  nearly  supernatural!  The  same  night  (I  have  reck- 
oned back)  that  you  dreamt  that  I  had  come  back  because  of  those 
Italians  [meaning  Giovanni  and  Arturo],  I  passed  a  sleepless  one 
in  which  I  took  the  resolution  to  leave  everything  in  the  lurch  and 
go  back  to  you  because  of  the  excitement  I  had  through  those  beasts. 
Isn't  that  funny  ? 

[Once  more  he  complains  of  one  of  her  friends]  Her  artistic  judg- 
ment doesn't  go  very  far  and  her  ideal  is  Huneker  of  whom  she 
speaks  every  minute.  That  does  not  upset  me  at  all,  but  I  don't  think 
she  understands  me, — otherwise  she  would  never  have  told  me  that 
it  was  stupid  of  you  to  marry  an  artist  again  and  cited  a  paper  which 
said  you  were  at  least  true  to  art  in  your  choice  of  husbands.  I  felt 
it  like  an  insult  and  would  have  given  anything  not  to  be  an  artist, 
as  the  comparison  with  those  pigs  is  too  much  for  my  pride. 

[And  growing  more  cheerful  he  concludes]  My  own  sweet  pet, 
how  you  are  an  angel  to  do  everything  just  as  I  like  it!  How  you  tell 
me  everything!  How  you  knew  that  I  should  like  you  to  stay  in 
Coswig!  My  darling,  you  are  too  good  to  me!  I  don't  deserve  it.  I 
should  tell  you  what  I  wear  ? — darling,  do  you  do  that  ?  Do  you  ever 
tell  me  what  stockings  you  wore  in  Dresden  or  anything  ?  Don't  you 
know  that  I  love  to  hear  it  ? 


COS  WIG    1893 

Carreno  and  d' Albert 


TERESA  CARRENO  227 

For  Carreno  as  well  as  cT Albert  the  three  months  of  separation 
crawled  slowly,  busily  away.  Outside  of  her  close-knit  concert 
trips  she  gave  her  attention  to  her  household  and  her  garden. 
D'Albert  must  find  it  in  full  bloom  for  his  homecoming.  She 
planted  pinks,  mignonettes,  begonias,  petunias,  daisies,  and 
marigolds.  When  her  husband  finally  returned  he  found  her 
literally  ill  with  joy. 

D'Albert  had  long  wanted  a  legal  marriage.  Now,  for  his  sake 
and  for  that  of  their  child-to-be,  Carreno  consented.  The  servants 
were  sent  off  for  a  vacation,  and,  taking  the  children  with  them, 
they  left  for  a  week  in  Folkstone,  England.  The  marriage  took 
place  on  July  27, 1892,  so  the  diary  reveals:  "The  Good  Lord  has 
granted  our  prayer!!  .  .  .  London  at  1  p.m." 

D'Albert  was  impatient  to  be  at  his  composing.  On  August  1 
Carreno  writes :  "Home  thank  God."  The  trip  must  have  been  a 
wearing  one,  for  on  September  27  there  is  the  next  entry:  "My 
precious  baby  girl  Eugenia  born  at  1/4  before  3  p.  m.  May  the 
Lord  bless  and  keep  her!" 

There  began  a  period  of  tireless  work.  D'Albert's  opera,  Der 
Rubin,  a  string  quartette,  and  his  second  "Piano  Concerto  in  E 
major,"  a  gift  for  Teresa,  were  the  result.  He  had  never  worked 
with  more  ease,  with  more  success,  with  more  privacy.  Only  an 
occasional  pupil,  or  an  invited  friend  invaded  the  sanctuary. 

Carreno  had  served  her  marital  apprenticeship.  It  was  unthink- 
able that  one  of  her  individuality  should  for  any  length  of  time 
be  submerged  by  a  husband  however  great  he  might  be.  Their 
ideas  about  the  education  of  children  differed.  Carreno  was  not 
as  willing  as  at  first  to  defer  to  her  husband  in  this.  The  rights 
of  motherhood  were  at  issue.  This  was  a  subject  of  controversy, 
at  first  smoothed  over  with  tact  by  one  or  the  other,  but  showing 
symptoms  of  trouble  ahead.  Carreno  was  free  of  debt.  Mr.  Fair- 
bank  had  been  fully  repaid.  She  was  sure  of  as  many  well-paid 
engagements  as  she  cared  to  accept,  could  feel  at  liberty  to  spend 
lavishly,  to  patronize  Bertha  Pechstein,  the  most  expensive  of  de- 
signers in  Berlin,  for  her  concert  dresses,  to  buy  luxuries  for  the 
children,  for  her  house.  The  staff  of  servants  matched  the  family 


228  TERESA  CARRENO 

in  size.  This  worried  the  thrifty  d'Albert  as  much  as  the  noise 
the  high-strung  children  could  not  help  making.  Differences  of 
opinion  grew  into  quarrels  out  of  proportion  to  their  importance. 
Carreno's  strident  volleys  of  temper  were  countered  more  subtly 
by  d'Albert's  sarcastic  digs.  They  hurt  each  other  only  to  be  the 
more  charmingly  reconciled.  Absence  of  greater  or  less  duration 
did  its  part  to  keep  the  rift  from  spreading. 

The  first  year  of  matrimony  was  nearing  its  end.  The  public 
and  the  always  gossip-hungry  musicians  had  to  admit  defeat  and 
turned  to  other  subjects  for  more  nourishing  food.  Apparently 
these  two  unblendable  instruments  were  still  managing  to  intone 
a  melody  in  consonance.  Carreno  worked  with  fervor  to  make 
the  most  of  her  husband's  "Concerto."  Was  it  not  her  very  own, 
written  with  her  and  their  baby  in  mind?  The  Neue  Musi\- 
Zeitung  concedes  that  the  first  hearing  with  d'Albert  as  soloist  in 
Bremen  and  Braunschweig  earned  "great  success."  Hanslick 
adds  his  comment.  "D'Albert  is  a  lucky  man.  He  can  either  play 
his  own  Concerto,  or  let  it  be  played  for  him  by  his  wife." 

Carreno's  first  appearance  under  the  baton  of  her  husband  in 
Berlin  on  the  eighth  and  ninth  of  January,  1893,  was  for  her  an- 
other great  personal  triumph.  Modestly  the  diary  says:  "Great 
success  for  my  Toto's  composition."  But  the  "Concerto"  fared  less 
well  at  the  hands  of  the  critics.  "She  did,"  they  admitted,  "do  the 
utmost  with  a  dull,  colorless  composition,"  playing  it  with  "com- 
plete masterliness."  It  would  have  taken  a  less  selfish,  less  jealous 
nature  than  d'Albert's  to  overlook  the  fact  that  it  was  the  per- 
former, not  the  composition,  that  was  drawing  the  applause.  Al- 
though his  name — as  usual  in  man-worshiping  Germany — stood 
first  on  the  program,  there  was  a  sting  in  a  combined  triumph 
which  gave  Carreno  precedence,  and  d'Albert  could  not  bring 
himself  to  laugh  at  the  bon  mot  which  traced  its  source  to  this 
concert.  "Frau  Carreno,"  it  was  said,  "yesterday  played  for  the 
first  time  the  second  concerto  of  her  third  husband  in  the  fourth 
Philharmonic  Concert." 

The  Tagliche  Rundschau  was  unduly  sarcastic:  "The  little 
Swabian  town  of  Weinsberg,  famous  for  the  fidelity  of  its 


TERESA  CARRENO  229 

women,  will  now  be  able  to  help  giving  honorary  citizenship  to 
Carreno  for  saving  the  work  of  her  husband,  at  least  for  that 
evening.  The  hot-blooded  Mexican,"  it  continues,  "shows  pecul- 
iar and  pleasing  changes  in  her  playing;  it  is  softer,  the  whole 
interpretation  more  feminine,  so  that  one  looks  forward  to  her 
playing  of  some  real  music  very  soon."  The  critic  becomes  posi- 
tively venomous  when  he  dismisses  d'Albert  with  what  seems  to 
be  personal  animosity:  "He  remains  that  which  he  is  in  fact,  a 
cosmopolitan  nomad,  who  has  no  home,  no  nationality,  no  pedi- 
gree." If  d'Albert  read  this  paragraph — and  there  is  little  hope 
that  it  escaped  his  eye — he  cannot  be  blamed  for  beginning  the 
year  in  a  bad  temper.  Although  Carreno  writes  on  January  19, 
"My  Toto  concert  1500  m.  The  public  fanatic  with  his  wonderful 
playing.  God  bless  him.  Played  his  sonata  for  the  first  time!"  he 
would  have  been  more  generous  than  he  was  to  delight  that  his 
Majesty,  King  of  Saxony,  had  honored  his  wife  with  the  title 
of  Konigliche  Kammermusi\erin  in  March,  1893,  and  had  an- 
nounced his  intention  of  attending  Carreno's  Dresden  recital  in 
person.  Loyally  Carreno — she  after  all  was  the  one  who  really  ap- 
preciated it,  though  she  could  not  call  it  either  great  or  grateful 
— took  the  d'Albert  "Concerto"  from  city  to  city,  introduced  it 
to  conductor  after  conductor.  For  that  year  it  was  the  mainstay 
of  her  appearances  with  orchestra.  Better  accepted  was  the  first 
"Suite"  of  d'Albert,  often  found  on  her  recital  programs,  wholly 
or  in  part,  where  the  MacDowell  "Suite"  had  formerly  held  its 
place. 

The  year  1893  marked  a  periocj  0f  depression  for  the  concert 
world.  Carreno  would  like  to  have  given  up  playing  entirely  for 
the  spring  season,  but  Hermann  Wolff  held  her  to  her  contracts. 
In  his  usual  vein  he  wrote  on  February  10: 

Chere  Amie:  J'ai  encore  a  vous  repondre  a  votre  aimable  invitation 
d'assister  a  votre  concert  de  Dresde.  Nous  serions  venus,  ma  femme 
et  moi,  mais  le  meme  jour  nous  avons  le  VHP  Concert  Philhar- 
monique.  Done  nous  ne  pouvons  pas,  ce  que  nous  regrettons  d'autant 
plus,  que  dans  des  concerts  qui  ne  sont  pas  pleins,  nous  le  sommes — 
de   "Galgenhumor"    [Gibbethumor].    Certes  avec   mes   nombreux 


23o  TERESA  CARRENO 

mains  (j'y  compte  mes  pieds  aussi)  j'aurais  fait  un  tapage  inoui, 
enfin  un  tapage  digne  de  votre  succes.  Que  voulez-vous  rien  ne  marche 
cette  annee.  Cependant  votre  concert  a  Berlin  ne  sera  pas  mauvais. 
C'est  toujours  ce  cher  petit  Maurice  [Rosenthal]  qui  attire  les  "sa- 
vants" et  "savantes."  Le  reste  ne  vaut  rien.  J'appartiens  au  reste! 

That  something  infinitely  precious  had  been  acquired  through 
d' Albert's  influence  is  attested  by  the  Signale  following  this 
same  Dresden  recital :  "To  her  hot  temperament,  her  orchestral 
touch  there  has  been  added  a  third  companion,  a  wonderful  clari- 
fication." A  new  sense  of  musical  values  had  come  to  her,  in  no 
wise  interfering  with  her  sparkling  spontaneity.  Her  music  was 
herself.  It  was  bound  to  change  as  she  changed.  No  static  art  was 
hers  eventually  to  be  outmoded.  Very  truly  she  wrote  years  later 
in  answer  to  a  questionnaire,  asking  for  a  resume  of  her  musical 
schooling:  "I  learned  from  everything,  from  everybody — and  I 
am  still  learning." 

On  February  21  d' Albert  had  returned  from  a  tour  of  three 
weeks  in  Russia  with  16,000  marks  in  his  pocket.  From  then  their 
journeys  took  them  in  rarely  interlocking  directions,  but  on  April 
12  Carreno  came  to  Berlin  to  hear  Joachim's  group  play  her 
husband's  second  "Quartette"  for  the  first  time  in  that  city. 

Since  d'Albert  was  frequently  called  upon  to  conduct  his  own 
"Concerto,"  it  seemed  natural  and  pleasant  for  Carreno  to  go 
with  him  to  cities  where  he  was  giving  solo  recitals  in  between, 
and  a  major  mistake  it  proved  to  be.  Carreno  did  not  know  how 
to  play  the  part  of  a  concert  artist's  wife  with  proper  abnegation 
and  tact.  She  was  very  apt  to  steal  his  thunder  even  in  the 
green  room.  Jealousy  raised  green  fingers.  D'Albert,  quite  openly 
preferring  to  go  off  with  groups  of  friends  without  her,  became 
embarrassingly  disagreeable  when  she  objected  to  sharing  him 
with  others. 

Finally  the  season  with  its  higher  ups  and  lower  downs  ended 
brilliantly  enough.  The  Beethoven  festival  in  Bonn,  upon  the 
roster  of  whose  performing  artists  the  names  of  d'Albert  and 
Carreno  both  appeared,  was  a  fitting  climax,  because  it  proved 


TERESA  CARRENO  231 

that  she  was  no  longer  a  star  apart,  but  a  musician  among  musi- 
cians, definitely  one  of  Germany's  own. 

A  workful  summer  lay  ahead  for  both.  Carreno  was  absorbed 
in  making  additions  to  her  repertoire,  for  example,  the  "E  flat 
Concerto"  of  Beethoven,  and  the  "Chromatic  Fantasia  and 
Fugue"  as  von  Blilow  had  edited  it.  D'Albert,  deep  in  his  opera, 
Der  Rubin,  took  time  off  to  teach  little  Teresita,  or  "Dada,"  as 
she  was  called,  piano,  taking  a  fatherly  interest  in  her  unfolding 
gifts.  Pupils  in  considerable  number  were  clamoring  for  lessons 
at  Coswig  gates,  and  were  often  taught  interchangeably  by  one 
or  the  other  of  the  artists.  D'Albert's  sarcasm  reduced  many  a 
young  aspirant  to  tears  that  his  wife  was  called  to  dry. 

The  holiday  was  not  to  end  without  its  rubs.  Pupils  brought 
restlessness  to  the  quiet  town  and  to  Villa  Teresa.  The  growing 
confusion  and  complication  of  life  were  irritating  to  edgy  nerves 
that  needed  soothing  not  stimulus.  From  the  servants'  quarters 
came  rumbles  of  disagreement.  D'Albert  would  have  preferred 
to  live  more  economically,  to  see  the  helpers  reduced  by  two, 
including  Fraulein  Knauth  with  whom  he  was  on  cordial  terms 
of  mutual  dislike.  Although  d'Albert's  son,  Wolfgang,  was  re- 
ceived by  Carreno  with  genuine  affection,  discipline  and  right 
education  were  more  than  ever  a  subject  of  heated  controversy. 
His  coming  gave  rise  to  the  most  quoted  of  all  the  Carreno- 
d'Albert  anecdotes.  One  morning  d'Albert  abruptly  interrupted 
Carreno's  practice :  "Come  quickly !  Your  children  and  my  chil- 
dren are  quarreling  with  our  children."  To  be  possible  it  should 
have  been  diminished  to  read:  "Your  child  and  my  child  are 
quarreling  with  our  child."  But  true  or  false  it  makes  an 
amusing  story,  stranger  to  the  ears  of  1893  than  to  those  of 
this  day. 

Fortunately  the  fall  season  opened  with  a  strenuous  list  of 
concerts  for  both,  whose  climax  was  the  first  performance  in 
Karlsruhe  of  d'Albert's  opera,  Der  Rubin.  "Great  success.  Thank 
God ! !"  says  Carreno  who  had  gone  with  her  husband.  Then  she 


232  TERESA  CARRENO 

was  called  to  Holland  and  Denmark,  leaving  Germany  to  d' Al- 
bert, where  they  met  again  three  weeks  later  in  Berlin.  One  of  his 
letters  gives  a  picture  of  his  state  of  mind  during  their  separa- 
tion and  of  their  more  and  more  precarious  relation  to  each 
other. 

Oh  my  love,  what  will  become  of  us?  Your  dear  letter  of  yesterday 
was  so  sweet,  but  you  suffer  as  I  do,  and  that  is  dreadful  to  me.  Yes, 
let  us  think  of  the  money,  but  we  can  earn  money,  and  still  we  do 
not  have  to  be  separated  for  so  long.  I  have  written  it  to  Wolff:  Russia 
with  you,  or  not  at  all!  He  was  completely  flabbergasted  that  I  wished 
to  give  concerts  there  with  you — why?  My  darling,  this  longing  is 
dreadful.  I  need  you  as  I  need  the  air  (even  more).  Oh  darling,  we 
must  plan  to  be  happy,  and  not  to  quarrel  any  more,  mustn't  we? 
I  know  it  is  always  my  fault,  but  I  will  be  different,  I  promise  you. 
Oh  Totty,  it  is  not  true  that  I  like  to  be  with  people,  or  else  how  is 
it  that  when  we  are  separated  I  see  nobody,  and  avoid  all  parties? 

— Oh  love,  our  differences  always  grow  out  of  the  house.  Think 
of  the  time  until  we  came  home  in  the  spring.  Was  it  not  glorious  ? 
But  at  home  you  have  many  cares,  and  that  makes  you  touchy.  .  .  . 
Angel,  Beloved,  to  travel  with  you  is  the  greatest  joy  of  my  life.  When 
people  ask  me  where  you  are  I  always  say  Kopenhagen.  The  other 
cities  are  too  far  away.  I  understand  that  you  don't  care  to  go  to  the 
theatre  without  me — neither  can  I — without  you  I  could  not  play 
in  Leipzig.  Only  you  give  me  peace. 

...  I  am  sorry  that  you  have  to  play  those  stupid  charity  concerts 
on  the  twenty-third  and  twenty-fourth.  Wolff  wrote:  "Charity  con- 
certs bring  returns,"  and  it  is  true. 

He  complains  that  Joachim  changes  his  program  every  min- 
ute. "I  am  angry  that  I  play  with  him."  If  all  goes  well  he  thinks 
it  would  be  nice  to  take  a  trip  to  Italy  together  and  do  nothing 
at  all,  and  again  speaks  of  the  household  expenses  as  the  source  of 
all  their  troubles,  ending  with  the  promise:  "It  shall  be  the  work 
of  my  life  to  show  you  my  gratitude."  Again  Carreno  comes  to 
Berlin  on  November  30  to  hear  d'Albert  play  with  Joachim. 
Clearly  the  two  could  not  be  happy  apart ;  neither  could  they  be 
completely  happy  together  at  home. 

At  the  end  of  summer  they  had  come  upon  an  idea  that  prom- 


TERESA  CARRENO  233 

ised  to  solve  some  of  the  difficulties.  Why  not  give  concerts  to- 
gether on  two  pianos?  They  would  be  quasi-pioneers  in  this 
field.  Their  cooperation  should  give  further  proof  of  their  con- 
jugal oneness,  and  provide  welcome  refreshment  for  the  press 
surfeited  with  the  unchanging  repertoire  of  the  artists  they  were 
paid  to  hear.  D'Albert  discovered  that  Friedemann  Bach  was  at 
his  best  in  the  "Sonate  in  F,"  and  by  the  end  of  October  he  had 
memorized  the  Sinding  "Variation."  The  Christmas  interlude 
gave  time  for  practice  together.  For  a  closing  number  on  these 
programs  they  decided  upon  Liszt's  "Concerto  Pathetique,"  add- 
ing a  group  of  solos  each  to  fill  out  the  concert.  The  plan  had 
the  sanction  of  Wolff.  This  marital  give  and  take  temporarily 
brought  new  zest  into  their  relations  and,  best  of  all,  there  was 
no  longer  time  to  quarrel  about  matters  of  less  moment. 

In  Amsterdam  on  December  28, 1893,  they  had  occasion  to  try 
out  the  Sinding  "Variations"  at  the  same  time  with  the  d' Albert 
"Concerto"  played  by  Carreno  under  the  composer's  direction. 
That  it  brought  a  fee  of  1,500  marks  augured  well  for  the  future 
of  the  ensemble.  Carreno  now  professionally  called  herself  Te- 
resa d'Albert-Carreno  instead  of  Teresa  Carreno-d'Albert  as  in 
previous  seasons.  It  better  accented  her  individuality.  Their  debut 
was  received  with  the  enthusiasm  worthy  of  it.  It  must  have  been 
amusing  to  see  Carreno  striding  majestically  before — acknowl- 
edging as  important  the  presence  of  her  audience,  while  little 
d'Albert  tripped  behind,  taking  his  seat  with  a  perfunctory  bow 
for  the  crowd  he  regarded  less  highly.  Musically  the  effect  of 
their  playing  was  so  electrifying,  its  inner  unity  so  compelling, 
that  even  today  there  are  those  who  speak  of  these  Doppelkpn- 
zerte  as  a  unique  experience.  For  once  the  critics  could  join  in 
the  unfeigned  admiration  of  the  public.  They  called  it  an  amaz- 
ing feat,  "an  ideally  perfect  ensemble,"  and  throughout  the 
spring  these  concerts  were  in  great  demand.  Financially  the  re- 
sult was  less  favorable.  The  receipts  were  not  much  more  than 
each  might  have  harvested  alone,  generally  1,000  marks  per  con- 
cert. For  Carreno  the  season  came  to  an  early  close.  There  was 
to  be  another  child. 


234  TERESA  CARRENO 

Tired  after  a  strenuous  winter  the  pair  returned  to  Coswig  under 
tension,  which  took  every  occasion  to  discharge  itself.  D'Albert, 
with  or  without  provocation,  was  irritable,  mean-spirited;  Car- 
reno joyful,  melancholy,  or  hysterical  by  turns.  Explosions  of 
anger  grew  more  frequent,  more  violent,  and  more  public,  the 
interludes  of  silence  longer  and  foreboding.  D'Albert  began  to 
seek  solace  in  flirtations  that  he  knew  would  enrage  Carreno.  To 
make  things  easier  the  children  were  sent  to  the  seashore  in  Au- 
gust where  after  a  series  of  scenes  at  home  d'Albert  joined  them. 
This  for  the  moment  brought  the  pair  to  their  senses,  and  on 
September  16,  1894,  Carreno  on  the  rebound  is  able  to  write  to 
her  friend  Carrie  Keating  Reed,  only  recently  married,  with 
her  habitual  exuberance,  perhaps  to  reassure  herself  in  a  rare 
moment. 

I  can  only  tell  you  that  the  word  happiness,  which  seemed  to  me 
to  exist  only  in  the  dictionary,  the  good  Lord  has  shown  me  that  it 
exists  also  on  earth,  and  that  it  exists  in  fact,  and  not  only  in  words 
or  dreams.  My  husband  combines  all  that  is  great  in  genius  and 
heart,  and  I  spend  my  life  wondering  how  it  is  possible  that  so  much 
greatness  and  goodness  should  be  combined  in  only  one  human  be- 
ing .  .  .  Teresita  and  Hans — we  call  him  so  now,  as  I  could  not  bear 
his  name  otherwise;  it  brought  too  many  horrible  recollections  with 
it! — have  at  last  found  a  Father  who  is  all  love,  tenderness,  and 
goodness  to  them.  Our  house  is  a  sort  of  mutual  worshipping  ad- 
miration society. 

Carreno  was  not  aware  that  the  chasm  between  her  and  her 
husband  had  widened  to  irreparable  dimension.  The  birth  of  a 
daughter  Hertha  on  September  26  gave  a  final  month  of  peace. 
Then  the  concert  season  once  more  took  the  artists  their  separate 
ways.  On  the  plea  that  there  was  insufficient  time  for  practice 
together  the  two-piano  concerts  were  by  common  consent  aban- 
doned. D'Albert  was  often  at  home  when  Carreno  was  not.  Rest- 
less in  her  absence,  he  sought  other  distraction.  Carreno's  appear- 
ance was  the  signal  for  explosions  of  temper,  threats  only  half 
intended,  for  illness  born  of  unhappiness.  On  October  17  the 
diary  becomes  Carreno's  confidant:  "The  most  unhappy  day  of 


TERESA  CARRENO  235 

my  life.  Had  I  not  lived  to  see  it  and  hear  what  my  husband  said 
to  me!!!  May  God  help  me  to  bear  my  suffering!  Only  God 
knows  what  I  suffer!!!" 

Just  then  with  deeper  understanding  of  a  weakness  she  de- 
tested she  writes  to  Teresita. 

How  can  you  tell  me  that  you  are  jealous  of  Herr  K —  [the  tutor]  ? 
My  own  Dadachen!  Have  I  not  talked  with  you  a  long  time  about 
this  ugly  feeling  some  time  ago  when  you  told  me  that  you  were 
jealous  of  Alice?  My  precious  own  girl!  You  must  do  all  you  can 
to  overcome  this  horrid  feeling,  or  you  will  be  a  very  unhappy  girl 
in  your  life.  As  I  told  you  before,  the  person  who  is  jealous  acknowl- 
edges his  (or  her  own)  inferiority,  and  our  pride  must  teach  us 
not  to  be  jealous.  Now,  think  well  over  what  I  say,  and  give  me  the 
joy  to  overcome  your  nasty,  ugly  jealousy.  ... 

Your  sweet  letter  gave  me  so  much  joy,  my  darling!  Write  me 
very  often  and  tell  Fraulein  to  pay  for  the  stamps,  and  I  will  return 
her  the  money  when  I  return  home.  Tell  me  all  that  happens  in  the 
house,  every  little  detail  is  dear  to  me,  as  I  want  to  go  on  in  my 
thoughts  living  with  you  all  from  one  minute  to  another.  Has  Frau- 
lein P.  had  a  lesson  from  Papa  yet  ?  How  did  she  play,  if  she  did  have 
a  lesson?  How  are  you  practising?  Good  and  very  regularly?  Tell 
me  all! 

And  Teresita  does,  even  in  poetry.  She  pictures  her  mother 
sitting  proudly  on  horseback,  "hoch  zu  Ross"  with  sword  in 
hand,  and,  knowing  it  would  please  her  mother,  or  only  im- 
agining the  splendors  of  a  concert  career,  she  writes:  "Oh,  if  I 
could  only  play  in  public!!  This  wish  is  so  great!" 

All  this  was  the  lull  before  the  cyclone.  Upon  release  from  duty 
Carreno  found  her  husband  at  home.  The  unbelievable  hap- 
pened. D'Albert's  philanderings  had  reached  proportions  too 
serious  to  be  ignored.  He  found  it  beyond  bearing  that  he  was 
treated  with  contempt  for  what  he  considered  unimportant  in- 
cidents. He  expected  his  wife  to  minister  to  his  wants,  to  cater  to 
his  self-respect,  and  to  shut  her  eyes  to  his  shortcomings.  Carreno, 
who  now  openly  belittled  him,  no  longer  fulfilled  these  require- 
ments. In  a  fit  of  temper  he  left  home,  with  his  way  mapped 


236  TERESA  CARRENO 

clearly  before  him.  This  time  there  would  be  no  coming  back. 
D'Albert  and  Carreno  would  never  spend  another  Christmas 
together. 

His  attitude  can  best  be  clarified  by  his  own  explanation,  mak- 
ing the  break  final.  Carreno  was  less  analytical,  but  her  silence 
is  quite  as  revealing  as  his  words.  On  December  17  he  writes 
from  Amsterdam  in  German : 

My  dear  good  Teresita: 

It  is  infinitely  hard  to  be  frank,  and  not  to  wound.  But  how  does 
one  give  proof  of  confidence  and  respect,  through  courage  to  tell 
the  truth  or  by  pasting  over  conditions  with  deceitful  lies? 

I  must  pour  out  my  heart  to  you,  tell  you  how  I  feel,  how  I  am 
affected,  what  I  wish  for  the  future  in  the  interest  of  all  of  us  and 
for  the  good  of  my  art.  Fraulein  Knauth  told  you  that  I  only  wished 
for  your  happiness.  That  is  very  true,  for  you  always  said  that  my 
happiness  was  yours,  and  that  is  why  I  write  about  my  happiness,  or 
rather  unhappiness,  and  about  what  must  happen  to  reconstruct  a 
quiet,  bearable  happiness.  On  that  account  your  happiness  is  the  chief 
thing.  Before  all  I  must  once  and  for  all  deny  that  H.  G.  and  M.  V. 
are  responsible  for  my  change  of  heart.  I  value  myself  after  all  too 
highly  to  allow  either  the  one  or  the  other  to  have  any  influence 
over  my  life.  Those  were  only  outward  circumstances :  The  real  reason 
for  my  change  of  soul,  and  so  for  all  of  this  uproar,  lies  much  deeper. 
Its  development  has  gone  on  unnoticeably  but  inevitably  for  two 
years  in  a  psychologically  perfectly  defensible  way.  You  noticed  it 
less  than  I,  because  this  kind  of  sensitivity,  the  expression  of  a  con- 
stantly pondering  state  of  mind,  is  entirely  German,  and  therefore 
must  be  entirely  foreign  to  the  understanding  of  one  who  comes  from 
Southern  lands.  Forgive  that  I  say  this  to  you! — You  said  the  other 
day  that  we  had  always  lived  so  happily. — You  perhaps,  but  not  I. 
There  were  scarcely  four  days  without  some  disturbance,  differences 
of  opinion,  or  scenes,  and  every  disturbance  left  a  wound  in  my  heart, 
and  brought  sadness  to  the  inner  tenderness  of  affection  that  I  offered 
you  in  such  abundance.  I  am  not  equal  to  these  disturbances,  to  you 
they  are  element  of  life,  necessity.  How  often  did  I  not  tell  you  that 
you  would  go  too  far,  that  sometime  I  might  become  an  entirely 
different  person!  You  did  not  think  it  possible.  The  disturbances  did 
not  excite  you  half  as  much  as  me.  You  say  many  things  that  you 


TERESA  CARRENO  237 

do  not  mean  at  all — and  I  always  believed  everything.  This  continu- 
ous irritation  almost  made  an  end  of  us.  This  inner  revolution  of  my 
soul  is  understandable,  natural,  and  I  can  justify  it  before  God.  You 
must  not  forget  that  I  am  still  young  enough  to  reconstruct  my  inner 
man,  to  change  and  recreate  myself  completely,  and  you  no  longer 
can,  and  so  do  no  longer  understand  me.  The  chief  part  of  your  life 
is  behind  you — I,  so  God  wills,  have  only  reached  half  of  it.  Added 
to  that  is  your  amazingly  vivacious  temperament  as  against  my  more 
quiet  and  simple  nature. — No  wonder  that  we  could  not  get  along 
together.  For  the  foundation  of  marriage  more  is  necessary  than 
merely  love.  We  were  only  happy  when  we  were  constantly  being 
considerate  of  each  other.  You  always  said  so,  but  I  was  the  one 
who  was  the  most  considerate,  and  so  you  often  thought  we  were 
happy  when  I,  at  least,  was  not.  For  two  years  I  have  never  been 
completely  happy  within.  That  is  the  reason  why  I  composed  so 
well — I  concentrated  upon  my  work  with  iron  perseverance,  and 
found  redemption  in  it. 

Of  your  perpetual  contempt  of  all  that  is  German  I  will  not  speak — 
that  was  only  a  bagatelle.  ...  I  often  tried  to  reveal  my  inner  self 
to  you.  You  never  understood  it.  How  often  I  told  you,  nobody  else 
would  have  stood  it  with  you.  You  answered,  you  would  have  sent 
him  to  the  Devil, — now  you  can  send  me  there. 

What  do  I  wish?  You  would  long  ago  have  asked.  I  wish  that 
we  both  shall  agree  that  we  can  no  longer  live  together  as  before, 
and  shall  have  to  arrange  our  life  accordingly.  I  wish  for  no  divorce! 
You  wanted  that,  but  I  want  peace  and  quiet  and  that  is  not  possible 
with  females.  I  have  lost  my  belief  in  everything,  want  to  be  alone, 
live  alone.  In  this  opinion  Brahms — with  whom  I  contracted  intimate 
friendship  in  Vienna — reinforced  me.  It  is  much  better  it  happens 
now  than  later,  before  we  spend  more  money,  before  we  become 
more  unhappy  still,  before  the  children  grow  older.  Dada  has  con- 
sidered a  life  apart  as  the  only  right  course  for  me  for  a  long  time. 
Children  and  fools  speak  the  truth. — 

I  send  you  many  kisses,  and  ask  you  again  to  receive  my  words 
with  composure.  Eugen. 

He  follows  this  tirade  up  with  a  laconic  note,  congratulating 
Carreno  upon  her  birthday,  accompanied  by  two  vases  for  ap- 
peasement. 


238  TERESA  CARRENO 

D'Albert's  letter,  although  it  contained  some  fundamental 
truths,  was  hardly  one  to  bring  the  happiness  that  he  so  ardently 
seemed  to  wish  for  her.  No  wife  likes  to  be  reminded  that  she  is 
only  important  as  a  background  for  his  more  weighty  concerns, 
that  his  philanderings  are  outward  circumstances,  that,  after 
three  years  of  adaptation  to  the  life  he  liked,  she,  the  Venezuelan, 
is  incapable  of  understanding  him,  the  German.  (Carreno  was 
not  the  only  one  who  found  d'Albert's  Germanophile  fanaticism 
puzzling.  Hanslick  ironically  commented  upon  it  when  he 
wrote:  "D'Albert  emphasizes  his  unadulterated  Germanism, 
which  one  is  occasionally  inclined  to  doubt  in  view  of  his 
French  name  and  English  birth.")  Most  cutting  of  all  was  the 
reminder  that  Brahms  and  her  own  little  daughter  had  been  en- 
listed on  his  side  and  that  the  sooner  they  separate — the  cheaper 
it  would  be. 

It  was  fortunate  for  Carreno  that  she  had  the  capacity  of  los- 
ing herself  in  Christmas  preparations  for  the  children,  and  also 
that  she  was  not  one  to  grieve  in  silence.  It  did  her  good  to  un- 
burden herself  to  the  only  too  sympathetic  Fraulein  Knauth.  As 
usual  in  moments  of  crisis  her  reaction  was  instantaneous.  No 
half  measures,  no  compromise  for  her !  She  would  insist  upon  di- 
vorce upon  her  own  terms.  The  way  to  strike  d' Albert  the  most 
telling  blow  would  always  be  by  way  of  his  pocket-book,  and 
she  did  not  mind  at  all  dealing  it. 

"Dios  sea  conmigo  y  mis  hijos  y  per  dona  a  Eugenio,"  says  the 
first  page  of  the  diary  of  1895.  She  prepared  to  steel  herself  to  go 
on  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  Like  Bolivar  she  would  build 
happiness  upon  the  pedestal  of  sorrow  vanquished.  Carreno 
threw  her  head  back,  and  as  she  had  advised  Dada,  called  pride 
to  her  aid.  By  one  of  the  thousand  channels  that  make  the  private 
lives  of  artists  public  property  the  unhappy  secret  began  to  filter 
out.  "I  told  you  so,"  smugly  said  some;  "here  endeth  the  third 
lesson,"  commented  others.  Sympathy  was  in  general  with  Car- 
reno. Whether  for  this  or  more  objective  reasons  the  critics  had 
never  praised  her  more  glowingly.  It  took  courage  to  put  herself 
again  at  the  service  of  the  d'Albert  "Concerto"  under  the  direc- 


TERESA  CARRENO  239 

tion  of  Felix  Mottl,  and  it  could  not  have  hurt  her  feelings  very 
much  that  the  critics  called  it  "a  washed-out  piano  story  in  four 
unprepossessing  movements,"  while  lauding  her  to  the  skies  for 
accomplishing  "wonders  unthinkable  since  Rubinstein." 

The  most  trying  ordeal,  one  they  both  would  have  given  much 
to  avoid,  faced  them  when  they  found  themselves  obliged  to 
play  in  another  concert  together.  D'Albert  conducted  his  "Con- 
certo." "In  the  hands  of  the  excellent  pianist  the  work  achieved 
signal  success."  And  fittingly,  sadly,  their  ensemble  faded  out 
in  the  strains  of  the  "Concerto  Pathetique." 

Carreno  waited  for  word  from  d' Albert's  lawyer,  one  that 
would  clarify  their  future.  Finally  on  February  27  she  addresses 
d'Albert  himself  in  desperation. 

My  present  situation  must  end.  I  must  at  last  know  how  I  have  to 
arrange  my  life. 

You  said  to  our  friends :  that  you  could  not  breathe  the  same 
air  with  me,  which,  after  the  way  you  behaved  towards  me,  I  can 
well  comprehend.  I  have  written  you  before:  you  have  a  conscience. 

So  I  ask  you  to  write  me  quite  in  detail  what  your  wishes  are,  and 
what  way  of  life  you  wish  that  we  shall  follow,  so  that  I  may  know 
what  is  to  happen  to  me,  and  what  I  have  to  do  with  the  servants,  etc. 

Farewell!  Teresita. 

D'Albert  evades  the  issue.  On  March  5  Carreno  writes  again, 
wisely  leaving  the  decision  to  him. 

Since  I  go  to  Spain  next  month,  and,  as  you  know,  my  tour  lasts  five 
or  six  weeks,  our  two  children  Eugenia  and  Hertha  cannot  possibly 
stay  alone  in  the  house  with  Emma  and  just  one  other  servant. 

I  hear  that  you  are  going  to  Italy  and  these  poor  children  would 
remain  unprotected  without  father  or  mother.  That  I  cannot  allow, 
and  I  would  rather  give  up  my  trip  at  once.  If  you  agree  I  shall  take 
them  with  Emma  to  Dr.  Lahmann  until  my  return,  and  so  the 
house  can  remain  closed  until  I  come  back,  unless  you  decide  that 
we  are  to  live  somewhere  else.  Farewell!  Teresita. 

The  trip  to  Spain  was  abandoned,  probably  due  to  the  illness 
of  Hans.  There  was  no  lack  of  engagements  waiting  for  her  in 


240  TERESA  CARRENO 

Germany.  While  Carreno  was  reaching  pinnacles  undared  be- 
fore d' Albert  was  pianistically  in  partial  eclipse.  A  new  star  had 
already  begun  to  kindle  a  responsive  flame  before  the  other  had 
paled.  Although  the  peace  and  quiet  he  needed  "was  not  possible 
with  females"  he  never  as  long  as  he  lived  was  without  one 
or  the  other  of  them  for  any  length  of  time.  Hermine  Fink,  the 
ascendant  star,  was  the  one  who  held  him  longest,  for  a  span  of 
ten  years.  She  had  sung  the  principal  soprano  part  in  d'Albert's 
opera  Der  Rubin  in  one  of  its  early  performances  and  so  had 
consciously  come  into  his  life  for  the  first  time  in  February,  1895. 
This  had  been  Carreno's  own  opera,  the  one  composed  under  her 
inspiration.  She  had  attended  the  Premiere  in  Karlsruhe  the  pre- 
ceding October,  and  afterwards,  thrilled  by  the  success  of  the 
husband  she  adored,  she  had  felt  moved  to  play  until  late  into 
the  night  for  the  group  of  people  celebrating  the  event  in  the 
house  of  the  "Generalintendant,"  unaware  happily  that  she  and 
the  next  Frau  d' Albert  were  in  the  same  room. 

In  order  to  avoid  a  meeting  d'Albert  asked  that  Carreno  stay 
away  from  Coswig  until  he  had  seen  to  his  packing,  had  paid  off 
the  servants.  He  himself  put  the  little  girls  in  care  of  the  mother 
of  Fraulein  Knauth  in  Liebstadt.  The  convalescent  Hans  was 
sent  to  a  sanitarium  for  children,  Teresita  to  a  private  school  in 
Dresden.  When  Carreno  returned  to  all  there  was  left  of  the 
home  she  had  loved,  she  found  it  bare,  everything  in  boxes, 
with  only  two  servants  in  attendance. 

Even  Fraulein  Knauth  had  gone.  In  an  affectionate  letter 
to  Carreno  she  told  of  her  engagement,  adding  that  what  she 
had  seen  of  married  life  in  Coswig  had  so  prejudiced  her 
against  it  that  she  had  almost  decided  not  to  try  it  for  herself, 
especially  since  Carreno  had  warned  her  in  a  moment  of  bit- 
terness that  "one  can  never  marry  too  late  or  be  divorced  too 


soon." 


At  the  end  of  the  month  d'Albert  finally  made  up  his  mind. 
He  accepted  a  call  as  Kapellmeister  to  the  Court  of  Weimar 
where  Carreno  had  played  for  the  Grand  Duchess  only  a 
month  before,  taking  Wolfgang  with  him.  Carreno,  completely 


TERESA  CARRENO  241 

unnerved,  sought  the  seclusion  of  Tyrol  for  a  needed  vacation. 
Good  businesswoman  that  she  was,  Carreno  insisted  upon  a 
divorce  on  her  own  terms.  D'Albert,  duly  informed,  was  hor- 
rified. This  must  not  happen.  He  must  be  the  first  to  file  suit. 
His  "always  pondering  German  mind"  hit  upon  several  plau- 
sible grounds  that  he  might  magnify  and  use  for  his  own  ends. 
First  he  did  his  worst  to  have  his  wife  declared  insane,  have 
her  safely  buried  in  an  asylum.  That  plea  had  been  helpful  in 
ending  his  first  marriage.  Her  nervous  tension,  her  hysterics, 
her  extravagance,  were  these  not  clear  signs  of  a  disordered 
mind  ?  This  first  assault  failed  completely. 

Resolutely  turning  away  from  her  troubles  Carreno  decided 
to  make  a  new  home  for  herself  and  her  four  children  in  Ber- 
lin. She  found  one  that  suited  her  and,  more  difficult  a  problem, 
one  in  which  she  might  practice  day  or  night  without  restric- 
tion, on  the  top  floor  of  Kurfiirstendamm  28.  She  entered  it  on 
May  19.  A  broad  staircase  carpeted  in  deep-piled  red  led  up 
story  upon  story.  On  each  landing  windows  of  colored  glass 
shed  a  religious  light,  the  one  uppermost  representing  a  bird 
of  Paradise  with  a  malevolent  glint  in  his  eye. 

The  apartment  itself  was  dignified,  airy  and  spacious,  its  L 
shape  typical  of  Berlin.  To  the  right  of  the  dark  hall  was  a 
small  reception  room  or  study,  to  the  left  the  formal  salon,  its 
furniture  decorated  elaborately  in  rose  brocade  upon  ornate 
gilt  frames.  At  one  end  behind  the  inevitable  table  stood  the 
even  more  inevitable  sofa,  the  seat  reserved  for  the  most  distin- 
guished visitor.  Opening  out  of  the  salon  was  Carreno's  studio. 
Even  when  empty  it  was  full  of  her  personality  and  became  the 
real  living  room  of  the  apartment.  Two  concert  Bechstein 
grands,  standing  end  to  end  on  layers  of  carpet  to  deaden  the 
sound  and  generally  covered  for  the  same  reason,  held  the 
center  of  the  room  as  they  should.  The  music  rack,  placed  on 
top  of  the  closed  piano  to  further  spare  the  ears  of  those  beneath, 
was  never  without  its  attendant  ash  tray.  Carreno  was  so  in- 
veterate a  smoker  that  she  taught  herself  not  to  let  her  cigarettes 


242  TERESA  CARRENO 

interfere  with  her  playing.  She  could  dispose  of  the  ashes  at 
any  tempo  without  break  of  continuity  even  in  the  most  florid 
cadenza.  Near  the  balcony  which  gave  on  the  Kurfurstendamm 
stood  the  writing  desk  with  its  many  cubbyholes  bulging.  The 
ebony  music  case  made  to  Carreno's  order  practically  filled  one 
side  of  the  room.  Near  the  glass-paneled  dining-room  door 
stood  a  couch,  a  table,  more  chairs,  and  the  tile  stove.  The  walls 
were  closely  hung  with  pictures,  photographs  of  Carreno's  par- 
ents, of  the  children,  of  musicians,  Brahms,  Beethoven,  Liszt, 
and  of  dear  friends.  The  dining  room,  high  ceilinged  as  the 
others,  was  the  typical  Berliner  Zimmer,  one  corner  pierced  by  a 
court  window  usually  intended  to  give  light  for  the  sewing  table 
of  the  Hausfrau.  Only  through  this  room  as  a  passage  could  the 
bedrooms  be  reached.  The  kitchen  lay  far  behind  in  incon- 
venient distance. 

It  was  a  different  woman  who  took  up  life  in  her  new  apart- 
ment. For  d'Albert  the  last  three  years  had  meant  an  exciting 
episode.  Whether  Carreno  admitted  it  to  herself  or  not,  he 
was  the  love  of  her  life.  That  he  still  had  the  power  to  make 
her  miserable  and  often  used  it  with  satisfaction  was  one  of 
the  stings  of  her  later  days.  Carreno  never  fully  recovered  from 
this  divorce.  She  had  been  Teresa  d'Albert,  Teresa  Carreno- 
d'Albert,  Teresa  d'Albert-Carreno,  to  become  again  Teresa  Car- 
reno. She  faced  it  frankly:  "I  am  growing  old." 

Meanwhile,  not  downed  by  a  first  reverse,  d'Albert  hit  upon 
an  idea  that  he  thought  approached  genius.  There  had  never 
been  a  legal  divorce  ending  Carreno's  common-law  marriage 
to  Giovanni  Tagliapietra.  Therefore  they  must  still  be  con- 
sidered married,  and  accordingly  what  was  there  to  prevent  a 
suit  for  bigamy  from  being  filed  against  her  ?  (This  is  the  man 
who  claims  through  his  biographer  that  he  had,  though  per- 
fectly innocent,  shouldered  all  the  blame  and  all  the  costs  of 
divorce  in  order  not  to  cause  annoyance  to  Carreno.)  It  did  not 
appear  to  matter  that,  were  he  upheld,  his  own  children  would 
no  longer  be  considered  legitimate.  This  attack  too  rebounded 
against    the    assailant.    Giovanni   Tagliapietra's    letters    were 


TERESA  CARRENO  243 

brought  in  as  proof,  and  a  good  friend  in  New  York  gave  his 
affidavit  that  there  had  been  no  formal  marriage.  The  suit  was 
reluctantly  withdrawn,  leaving  Carreno  victor  on  a  sorry  bat- 
tlefield. 

One  of  the  attending  casualties,  which  also  had  its  element  of 
tragedy,  was  that  it  meant  a  definite  break  for  life  with  Manuel, 
her  brother.  At  this  critical  time  he  had  refused  to  side  with 
his  sister,  preferring  to  disown  her  instead.  Had  he  forgotten 
the  many  times  she  had  saved  him  from  the  consequences  of 
his  unworthy  escapades,  selling  the  few  jewels  she  owned 
to  pay  his  debts  ?  The  poorer  for  yet  another  illusion  lost,  Car- 
reno filed  the  application  for  divorce.  She  no  longer  had  a  hus- 
band, no  longer  a  brother.  There  remained  the  children.  But 
for  this  there  were  times  when  she  would  have  ended  it  all.  As 
she  took  her  lonely  walks  by  the  Canal  its  water  exerted  tempta- 
tion. It  would  have  been  easy  to  yield  herself  to  its  smooth 
depths. 

On  October  2,  1895,  a  divorce  was  granted  Carreno  on  the 
grounds  of  willful  desertion.  D'Albert  was  instructed  to  take 
out  a  life-insurance  policy  in  favor  of  his  children,  to  provide 
them  until  the  age  of  independence  with  a  liberal  allowance 
for  maintenance  and  education.  D'Albert  heard  the  decree  with 
indifference  (less  than  a  month  later  he  married  Hermine 
Fink).  Carreno  burst  into  tears. 

From  the  courtroom  she  drove  to  her  friends,  the  Kochs.  Still 
red-eyed  but  smiling  she  burst  in  upon  them.  Again  her  nat- 
ural resilience  was  her  ally.  "Well,  it's  all  over,"  she  announced. 
"Have  you  anything  to  eat?  J'ai  une  faim  canine."  Then  once 
more  she  broke  down  and  unburdened  her  soul  at  length,  man- 
aging however  to  eat  a  good  luncheon  between  sobs — while 
the  Droschke  waited  below  forgotten. 


Work,  the  universal  comforter,  proved  to  be  the  best  counter- 
weight to  trouble.  She  lost  herself  in  it,  and  even  turned  once 
more  to  composition,  abandoned  since  childhood.  At  home  she 
led  two  full  and  often  conflicting  lives,  that  of  the  artist,  and 
that  of  the  mother.  Either  one  could  have  absorbed  her  com- 
pletely. After  an  early  breakfast  there  were  the  usual  household 
details  to  be  adjusted.  The  rest  of  the  morning  belonged  to 
music,  practicing,  teaching,  or  reading  over  manuscripts  sent 
by  hopeful  young  composers  who  banked  upon  her  to  make 
them  known.  After  lunch — Carreno  always  prepared  the  salad 
dressing  of  oil  and  lemon  at  the  table — she  found  a  game  of 
solitaire  restful  before  the  siesta.  Then  perhaps  another  lesson, 
an  hour  with  the  masseur,  or  more  work  at  the  desk  before  tea. 
There  were  bills  to  be  paid,  dates  to  be  accepted  or  refused, 
notes  to  be  written,  programs  to  be  sent.  Wolff  must  be  re- 
minded not  to  be  neglectful,  to  keep  her  fees  high,  her  con- 
certs in  close  and  logical  sequence,  to  find  engagements  that 
were  increasingly  important.  In  this  year,  particularly,  Carreno 
was  not  easy  to  satisfy.  From  now  on  she  would  be  nobody's 
fool. 

Very  elastic  was  the  number  of  those  who  used  to  gather 
around  Carreno's  long  dining-room  table  over  the  teacups  and 
the  cookie  jar.  Carreno  presided  at  the  head  of  the  table  and 
brewed  the  tea  which  she  herself  liked  very  strong  and  black. 
Conversation  was  gay  or  serious  according  to  her  predominat- 
ing mood.  If  the  day  had  been  a  peaceful  one  this  was  the  time 
for  the  children  to  ask  favors.  Later  the  twilight  hour  was  most 
suitable  for  the  daily  walk.  Dinner  was  generally  an  intimate 
affair,  occasionally  shared  by  a  few  guests.  Family  conferences, 
letters  to  the  children  away  at  school,  and  another  game  of 
solitaire  brought  the  day  to  a  close.  The  to  and  fro  of  concert 
trips  often  interrupted  this  schedule,  bringing  attendant  con- 
fusion to  the  household.  The  children  were  made  to  understand 
from  early  childhood  that  it  was  by  their  mother's  coming  and 
going,  her  happiness  or  depression,  that  their  own  lives  must  be 
regulated.  Meeting  the  train  that  brought  the  artist  back  from 


TERESA  CARRENO  245 

glories  they  could  only  imagine  to  become  their  mother  once 
more  was  the  high  spot  of  childish  memory. 

Even  before  the  divorce  had  become  final  Carreno  decided 
that  for  reasons  of  health  the  summers  must  not  be  spent  in 
Berlin.  By  happy  chance  she  found  in  Pertisau  on  the  Achensee 
in  the  Bavarian  highlands  a  peaceful  spot  in  which  to  plan  her 
new  life.  During  many  years  it  became  her  Sommerfrische. 
The  mountain  air  had  an  invigorating  lift,  woods  and  lake 
quieted  her  nerves.  There  she  could  live  the  simple  life  that 
pleased  her,  take  long  walks  in  heavy  boots  and  comfortable 
old  clothes.  Housekeeping  was  confined  to  the  essentials.  As  a 
buffer  between  Carreno  and  intrusion  there  was  always  "die 
gute  Krahl,"  a  lady  by  virtue  of  character  and  education,  who 
could  take  Carreno's  place  in  many  ways,  and  with  whom  she 
could  safely  leave  her  children.  No  less  important,  she  had  a 
talent  for  keeping  down  expenses  and  for  making  herself  tact- 
fully invisible.  Never  had  they  lived  so  well  and  so  cheaply  as 
under  her  management.  There  was  time  for  practice,  for  rest, 
and  for  the  children,  even  with  a  dozen  students  about  hovering 
for  their  turn  to  have  a  lesson.  Primarily  undertaken  for  finan- 
cial reasons — lessons  at  40  marks  each  did  help  to  meet  expenses 
— Carreno  found  that,  tiring  as  it  was,  she  liked  to  be  sur- 
rounded by  young  people,  finding  real  satisfaction  in  being 
helpful  to  them  at  the  outset  of  their  careers.  Some  were  to  be 
teachers,  others  had  visions  of  a  more  dramatic  future  behind 
the  footlights.  She  received  them  all  with  the  same  outgoing 
friendliness  and  anticipation.  Those  that  proved  to  be  un- 
worthy of  her  interest  soon  disappeared,  and  a  very  few  were 
admitted  to  the  inner  sanctum  of  her  affection  to  become  her 
adopted  "Berlin  sons  and  daughters,"  she  their  "Berlin  mother." 

Turning  the  current  of  misdirected  affection  back  into  the 
channel  of  motherhood,  since  childhood  art's  only  lasting  com- 
petitor, Carreno  determined  that  henceforth  she  would  live  for 
her  children  alone,  redouble  her  efforts  only  for  their  sakes. 
She  faced  the  fact  sorrowfully.  Inheritance  and  the  unfortu- 


246  TERESA  CARRENO 

nate  circumstances  of  their  birth  had  handicapped  her  two 
elder  children.  Giovanni  had  the  handsome  presence  of  a  Span- 
ish hidalgo  offset  by  a  willful  nature  and  lack  of  ambition. 
Teresita  with  all  her  promise  of  great  beauty  was  nervous  and 
seldom  completely  well.  How  to  guide  these  children  to  suc- 
cessful maturity  was  an  ever-present  worry.  While  the  divorce 
was  pending  Giovanni  managed  to  get  along  fairly  well  in  a 
school  in  Dresden.  Teresita,  also  in  a  private  school  of  that  city, 
was  far  more  of  a  problem.  Many  of  Carreno's  headaches  were 
caused  by  these  two  undeniably  gifted  Tagliapietras. 

The  one  of  all  others  to  whom  Carreno  could  turn  for  ad- 
vice in  a  domestic  quandary  was  her  friend  of  old,  Fanny  Mac- 
Dowell.  She  would  not  have  believed  in  progressive  education 
had  she  known  of  such  a  thing.  Her  rules  of  conduct  for  chil- 
dren were  contained  in  three  simple  words:  "Love,  honor,  and 
obey,"  the  latter  to  be  enforced  with  stern  discipline.  For  most 
of  Carreno's  difficulties  with  her  children  Fanny  conveniently 
blamed  d'Albert. 

Do  you  not  think  [she  wrote]  that  you  may  have  been  a  little  unwise, 
a  little  too  extreme  in  newfangled  notions  imbibed  from  that  scala- 
wag d'Albert  in  the  feeding  and  the  general  management  of  your 
little  flock?  See  how  strong  and  well  you  are!  How  sturdy  as  a  child! 
You  were  not  brought  up  as  you  are  bringing  up  your  own  darlings. 
I  know  you  do  it  because  you  believe  it  is  for  their  good,  but  why 
try  experiments  with  your  children  ?  Do  you  think  Jaegers  and  vege- 
tables and  peculiar  bathing  are  all  to  combine  to  make  a  healthy 
family?  Even  you,  strong  as  you  were  before  you  met  that  little 
monster,  fell  ill  with  the  kind  of  diet  you  conformed  to  at  his  wish. 
Oh,  Teresita  dear,  cast  off  all  the  chains  that  gnome  bound  you  with, 
be  your  own  beautiful  self,  and  let  common  sense  drive  out  all  the 
fads  that  you  have  adopted. 

Occasionally  she  took  up  the  cudgel  in  defense  of  her  son. 
When  Edward  failed  to  receive  even  a  word  of  congratulation 
from  Carreno  upon  the  Chair  established  for  him  at  Columbia 
University,  she  complained:  "I  hope  the  day  will  come  when 
you  will  think  differently  of  him  and  his  work — you  who  were 


TERESA  CARRENO  247 

one  of  the  very  first  to  appreciate  and  make  known  his  tal- 
ent. I  don't  know  what  he  thinks  of  your  silence — you  cannot 
deny  that  you  started  it  by  your  own  enthusiastic  rendering  of 
his  works."  Again  she  attributes  Carreno's  change  of  heart  to 
d'Albert.  It  was  he  who  had  revolutionized  her  attitude  toward 
Edward's  music,  who  had  even  succeeded  in  turning  her  against 
America.  It  would  have  been  better,  she  thought,  not  without 
prejudice,  if  Carreno  had  remained  in  the  United  States,  even 
at  the  expense  of  living  with  Giovanni  Tagliapietra.  Would  she 
not  by  this  time  have  owned  her  house,  which  had  risen  in 
value  enormously  since  then  ?  She  asked  for  the  assurance  that 
"you  will  hereafter  not  have  any  pity,  or  love,  or  whatever  you 
may  choose  to  call  it,  for  men."  In  contrast  there  was  invariably 
kind  mention  of  Tag's  brother,  Arturo.  "He  colored,  when  I 
gave  him  your  message.  He  lives  separately  from  Tag,  is  in- 
dustrious, and  tries  to  get  along.  He  speaks  excellent  English 
and  through  thick  and  thin  he  has  stood  up  for  you." 

Carreno  was  a  slave  to  her  concert  schedule.  Outside  of  that 
she  did  as  she  pleased.  Before  any  member  of  the  household 
made  plans  for  the  day  himself,  it  was  well  to  consider  how 
Carreno  was  feeling  that  morning.  It  was  for  her  to  dictate,  for 
them  to  conform. 

To  her  children  Carreno  was  a  dual  being.  She  was  a  goddess 
living  apart  in  a  splendid  world,  one  which  they  could  imagine 
but  which  she  did  not  share  with  them.  From  this  she  now  and 
then  returned  laden  with  flowers,  her  bag  full  of  presents  for 
those  who  deserved  them.  She  spoiled  and  scolded  almost  in 
the  same  breath  as  impulse  moved.  They  must  be  careful  in  ad- 
dressing her.  Any  contradiction  was  stopped  with  a  curt:  "How 
dare  you  speak  to  your  mother  in  that  way."  That  was  the  god- 
dess, not  their  mother.  But  every  stormy  reprimand  had  its 
reaction  in  demonstrative  forgiveness.  Then  she  became  the 
real  mother  who  loved  them  and  hugged  them,  who  worried 
over  their  clothes,  their  health,  and  their  manners. 

It  was  in  times  of  illness  that  she  was  most  truly  theirs.  Often 
she  sat  at  the  bedside  of  a  sick  child  the  night  through,  in- 


248  TERESA  CARRENO 

stinctively  doing  the  right  thing,  radiating  curative  magnetism. 
She  used  to  say  herself  that  if  art  had  failed  her  she  would  have 
become  a  nurse.  "And  I  would  have  been  a  good  one,"  she 
added. 

The  first  Christmas  in  the  Berlin  home,  in  spite  of  sad  mem- 
ories, was  gratefully  peaceful.  What  freedom  to  be  alone  with 
the  children,  not  to  be  obliged  to  consider  anybody's  tempera- 
ment but  her  own!  The  tree  in  the  corner  was  decorated  by 
Carreno  with  the  help  of  Krahl.  Standing  in  the  corner  of  the 
studio,  the  presents  in  profusion  arranged  on  separate  tables 
around  it  for  family  and  servants  alike,  it  made  the  apartment 
take  on  the  essence  of  home. 

There  had  been  no  dearth  of  concerts  ahead  that  fall.  Carreno 
needed  them  as  an  outlet  and  attacked  her  crowded,  neatly 
welded  schedule  with  all  energy.  Fees  too  were  becoming  gen- 
erous once  more.  The  majority  of  engagements  was  in  the  up- 
per brackets  from  600  to  1,000  marks.  More  than  any  other 
pianist  of  her  sex  Carreno  was  in  demand  for  concerts  with 
orchestra.  At  twilight  one  day  after  rehearsal  she  happened  to 
be  watching  the  fading  sunset  from  one  of  the  bridges  that 
span  the  Elbe  in  Dresden.  A  young  man,  finding  her  profile 
alluring,  stopped  beside  her,  inquiring  if  he  might  accompany 
her.  "Mein  Herr,"  she  replied  with  that  sharpening  of  the 
voice  which  commanded  instant  respect,  "I  have  just  been  ac- 
companied by  seventy  gentlemen.  One  is  not  enough  for  me," 
and  strode  away  unmolested. 

The  musical  critics,  not  unlike  the  critics  of  today,  were  apt 
to  see  their  artists  from  widely  differing  angles.  Die  Neue 
Zeitschrijt  fiir  Musi\  does  not  find  that  the  Carreno  of  early 
1896  has  basically  changed  since  her  first  appearance  in  Ger- 
many. To  him 

Frau  Carreno  belongs  to  those  volcanoes  that  are  still  in  full  eruption. 
She  feels  constrained  in  pedantic  fetters  like  a  bird  in  cage.  She  loves 
freedom,  loves  to  jump  and  tear  around  without  rein  like  the  horse 
of  the  prairies.  Instead  of  exhausting  itself  in  the  course  of  the  eve- 
ning her  power  progressively  increases.  She  grows  constantly  wilder, 
more  passionate.  Above  all  at  the  end,  when  the  real  program  is 


TERESA  CARRENO  249 

finished,  when  others  in  her  place  would  let  themselves  sink  into  a 
comfortable  chair,  she  just  finds  her  stride;  then  she  rages  with  un- 
tamable fire.  Her  eyes  sparkle  with  a  weird  light.  It  is  then  that  this 
beautiful  woman  is  surpassingly  beautiful.  It  is  then  that  her  playing 
reaches  its  climax. 

His  colleague  on  the  same  journal  comes  to  an  opposite  con- 
clusion a  little  later  on.  A  propos  of  the  Seventh  Philharmonic 
Concert  in  which  for  the  first  time  in  Berlin  Carreno  was  heard 
in  the  "Emperor  Concerto"  of  Beethoven  under  the  conductor 
Artur  Nikisch,  he  feels  that  she  must  be  warned  not  to  go  to 
the  other  extreme. 

She  gave  the  "E  flat  Concerto"  of  Beethoven  and  the  "Hungarian 
Fantasia"  of  Liszt  with  impeccable  technique  and  understanding, 
but  we  missed  her  usually  overflowing  temperament.  This  highly 
imaginative  artist  must  not  let  herself  be  frightened  by  pedantic 
school  teachers.  Her  fire,  her  passionateness  are  the  very  traits  that 
differentiate  her  from  the  numberless  hordes  of  pianists  of  both  sexes 
who  are  technically  capable  but  who  do  not  stand  out  with  any  partic- 
ular artistic  individuality.  She  should  not  take  the  trouble  to  repress 
these  qualities,  or  else  she  will  be  robbed  of  her  most  beautiful  jewel, 
her  own  personality. 

It  is  easy  to  comprehend  why  Carreno  preferred  to  file  away 
her  criticisms  without  reading  them. 

If  d'Albert  had  not  found  her  a  worthy  wife,  she  was  deter- 
mined that  he  should  learn  to  esteem  her  from  now  on  a 
formidable  rival.  It  must  have  displeased  her  to  read  in  refer- 
ence to  this  same  concert  a  review  of  Otto  Lessmann  in  the 
Allgemeine  Musikzeitung.  He  would  have  her  be  on  the  one 
hand  more  true  to  the  tradition  that  was  so  truly  d'Albert's  in 
the  reading  of  the  "Concerto,"  on  the  other  hand  more  true  to 
herself  and  her  gifts. 

Another  gentleman  of  Leipzig  steers  a  middle  course. 

On  seeing  her  [he  rhapsodizes]  many  a  person  must  have  silently 
sighed  with  me:  "Einst  ging  sie  zu  zwein,  Jetzt  geht  sie  allein"  in 
free  modification  of  one  of  the  most  meaningful  songs  of  Robert 
Franz.  But  before  the  all  conquering  power  of  her  art,  the  sympathy 
that  one  would  so  gladly  offer  her  in  this  hard  test  of  life  recedes. 


250  TERESA  CARRENO 

In  the  "E  minor  Concerto"  of  Chopin  and  the  "Hungarian  Fantasia" 
of  Liszt,  after  having  been  received  with  cries  of  joy  at  the  outset, 
she  scored  a  resounding  triumph.  Through  constant  purification  she 
has  abandoned  the  amazonlike  fury  with  which  she  used  to  pounce 
upon  the  greatest  tasks  of  virtuosity  as  if  upon  an  ironfast  cohort 
of  enemies,  and  that  without  loss  of  glowing  fullness  of  expression 
and  freshness  of  temperament. 

From  now  on  the  critics  were  more  and  more  divided  into 
two  camps,  those  that  wished  her  to  keep  forever  the  fire  of 
youth,  and  those  who  welcomed  the  note  of  contemplation  that 
with  advancing  years  more  truly  expressed  her  changing  self. 
As  regards  the  E  flat  concerto,  as  soon  as  it  had  become  more 
thoroughly  her  own  through  time,  the  great  assimilator,  all 
were  agreed  that  it  was  one  of  her  masterpieces. 

In  the  season  1895-96  Carreno  gave  no  less  than  seventy  con- 
certs. They  took  her  from  Germany  to  Great  Britain  and  back 
again  before  the  coming  of  the  new  year;  February,  1896,  saw 
her  on  a  tour  through  Scandinavia  where  great  success  was  a 
foregone  conclusion; — it  is  curious  that  in  Italy  and  France, 
countries  racially  allied  to  her  own,  the  public  was  less  respon- 
sive, the  critics  less  cordial,  than  in  Nordic  lands — March  was 
spent  mainly  in  Switzerland,  April  again  in  Norway  and 
Sweden.  When  it  came  time  to  join  the  children  in  Pertisau, 
Carreno  was  exhausted.  The  pupils  who  had  assembled  from 
far  and  near  held  their  breath  for  fear  that  a  lesson  might  be 
canceled.  But  even  this  so-called  vacation  was  interrupted  by  a 
concert  engagement  in  Lucerne,  too  lucrative  to  be  refused. 
Carreno  made  a  holiday  of  it,  used  it  to  show  Teresita  the  won- 
ders of  Switzerland. 

Aside  from  this  trip  Carreno  found  diversion  in  polishing  the 
string  quartette  she  had  composed  during  the  past  year,  the 
child  of  her  unhappiness.  In  the  sensitive  hands  of  the  Kling- 
ler  Quartet  it  came  to  life  under  ideal  conditions  in  the  Leipzig 
Gewandhaus  on  September  29,  1896.  Among  the  quantities  of 
flowers  presented  to  her  lay  a  silver  wreath  from  her  pupils. 
The  critics  were  friendly  if,  as  habitually  where  a  woman  was 


TERESA  CARRENO  251 

creatively  concerned,  somewhat  condescending,  and  the  "Quar- 
tette" was  in  due  time  accepted  for  publication  by  Fritzsch  in 
Leipzig.  Carreno  had  made  the  acquaintance  of  Herr  and  Frau 
Fritzsch  during  her  first  days  in  Germany  and  had  become  so 
grateful  for  friendship  in  difficult  hours  that  she  presented  the 
publisher  with  all  the  German  rights  to  her  "Teresita  Waltz," 
not  realizing  at  the  time  what  a  costly  gift  it  was  she  was  mak- 
ing. Another  composition,  a  serenade  for  string  orchestra,  re- 
mained in  manuscript  and  was  probably  never  performed. 

After  this  preliminary  introduction  to  the  fall  season  it  was 
time  to  organize  the  household  for  the  coming  winter.  Gio- 
vanni, in  spite  of  lack  of  application  which  kept  his  school 
grades  chronically  in  the  danger  zone,  got  on  fairly  well  in 
Schnepfenthal,  one  of  the  best  and  most  expensive  of  German 
schools.  Teresita  was  the  real  problem.  Fraulein  Kretzschmar 
in  Dresden,  whose  school  Teresita  had  entered  the  year  before, 
understood  her  charge  well,  and  analyzed  her  difficulties  with 
lucidity. 

Life  in  a  Pension  does  not  agree  with  Teresita,  and  yet  there  is  nothing 
definite  to  be  cured.  Against  threatening  anaemia  exercise  would  be  a 
remedy,  but  her  foot  will  not  allow  that.  Wine  and  iron  liqueur  are 
forbidden  by  her  former  way  of  living  at  home.  The  last  cold  was 
without  doubt  due  to  the  open  window. — She  is  desperate  because 
she  may  not  do  what  she  considers  salutary  and  open  windows  do 
not  belong  to  this  category.  .  .  .  She  needs  a  special  governess  for 
herself  alone,  because  she  is  in  many  ways  unreasonable.  When  she 
is  supposed  to  do  needlework  her  eyes  hurt  her,  and  yet  she  reads  as 
much  as  possible.  If  she  is  supposed  to  go  for  a  walk  her  foot  hurts 
her,  and  still  she  writes  on  the  same  day  to  Krahl  that  she  will  call 
for  her  to  go  to  a  concert.  And  so  she  practically  lives  in  constant 
contradiction.  She  said  at  first  that  she  must  eat  fruit,  but  she  won't 
touch  it.  She  should  eat  vegetables,  but  she  refuses  them.  Since  she 
eats  only  little  meat  she  really  does  not  get  enough  nourishment.  You 
can't  achieve  anything  with  her  by  force.  She  has  a  certain  passive — 
shall  we  say  suffering — resistance.  The  only  thing  to  be  done  is  to 
give  her  a  tutor  who  will  look  after  her  entirely.  Only  in  this  way 
can  she  hope  to  finish  the  year  tolerably  well. 


252  TERESA  CARRENO 

A  subsequent  experiment  of  keeping  Teresita  at  home  under 
private  instruction  was  also  unsatisfactory.  Carreno  felt  that 
after  all  a  school  would  be  more  capable  of  coping  with  her 
daughter's  difficulties.  The  Breymannsches  Institut  was  situ- 
ated, as  it  is  today,  in  the  unspoiled  country  near  Wolfenbuttel. 
The  setting  was  as  congenial  to  Carreno's  taste  as  the  simple, 
homelike  atmosphere  of  the  place.  Founded  by  the  niece  of 
Friedrich  Frobel,  it  breathed  his  spirit  and  clung  to  his  ideals 
for  the  education  of  children.  The  accepted  academic  subjects, 
the  household  arts,  music — and  the  weekly  bath  found  their 
place  upon  the  schedule  in  close  fraternity.  Plain  living  was  en- 
livened by  teas,  parties,  plays,  and  excursions  into  the  near  Harz 
mountains.  The  standards  of  instruction  and  conduct  were  high 
and  enforced  with  gentle  firmness.  Good  manners  were  en- 
couraged, not  for  outward  adornment,  but  as  the  expression  of 
character  and  kind  thoughts.  Carreno  had  good  cause  to  be  glad 
of  her  choice. 

Teresita  was  not  so  easily  pleased.  She  finds  the  girls  uncon- 
genial and  stupid.  She  complains  of  her  eyes,  of  headaches,  of 
the  food,  then  upon  remonstrance  she  writes  that  she  has 
"learned  to  suffer  without  complaining,"  an  accomplishment 
which  in  the  course  of  a  few  weeks  is  again  forgotten.  She 
accuses  herself  of  making  her  mother  constantly  unhappy, 
blames  herself  for  never  satisfying  her,  and  admits  that  she 
suffers  greatly.  She  worries  about  Carreno's  projected  trip  to 
the  United  States,  and  fears  that  her  life  will  be  endangered  by 
"that  awful  man  I  am  obliged  to  call  father."  But  it  does  please 
Teresita  that  the  English  teacher  asked  her  to  play  for  the 
school,  and  when  she  did  so  they  all  acted  as  if  she  had  pre- 
sented a  valuable  present.  "I  never  had  so  grateful  an  audience," 
she  concludes.  A  special  grand  piano  had  been  sent  for  her  use 
during  the  school  year.  No  dog  ever  guarded  a  bone  more  jeal- 
ously. Even  on  the  day  of  formal  student  recitals  hers  was 
the  only  hand  allowed  to  touch  its  keys.  The  other  performers 
were  obliged  to  content  themselves  with  an  upright  instru- 
ment. 

To  return  to  America  had  often  been  a  temptation  to  Car- 


TERESA  CARRENO  253 

reno.  She  had  not  been  justly  valued  there.  Now  with  the  back- 
ground of  great  European  success  her  reception  should  be  very 
different.  Of  a  number  of  offers  that  were  tentatively  made  her 
she  finally  accepted  the  most  profitable.  A  foolproof  contract, 
drawn  up  with  the  help  of  the  canny  Wolff,  finally  lay  signed 
in  her  desk.  Rudolph  Aronson,  her  former  impresario  of  the 
Casino  Concerts,  backed  by  the  Knabe  Piano  Company,  was  to 
manage  the  tour.  The  agreement  called  for  forty  concerts  at 
$400  each,  transportation  and  living  expenses  for  two  people 
to  be  paid  by  the  manager.  As  her  traveling  companion  Car- 
reno  chose  Henriette  Orbaan,  a  pupil  sent  to  her  under  the 
patronage  of  the  Dutch  Government. 

In  the  interim  there  was  a  heavily  booked  tour  awaiting  her 
through  Russia  and  the  Scandinavian  peninsula.  Everywhere 
Carreno's  success  continued  to  be  sensational.  In  Helsingfors 
she  was  obliged  to  give  four  concerts,  two  recitals,  one  concert 
with  orchestra,  and  one  concert  at  popular  prices.  After  the 
third  a  large  laurel  wreath  was  presented  to  her  with  great 
ceremony,  and  the  students  could  hardly  be  restrained  from  un- 
harnessing the  horses  of  the  carriage  to  draw  her  home  them- 
selves. At  her  final  appearance  the  audience  became  positively 
unmanageable.  There  were  some  who  kept  calling  for  "the 
hand,  the  hand,"  insisting  upon  kissing  it,  upon  touching  her 
dress.  Carreno  to  quiet  them  at  last  stepped  to  the  edge  of  the 
platform,  pausing  for  silence:  "Jag  kommer  tillbaka"  (I  shall 
come  back)  she  promised  in  her  best  Swedish.  Enthusiasm  be- 
came fanatical.  The  critics  broke  their  record  for  superlatives. 
Hardly  ever  had  there  been  such  a  triumph.  It  followed  her 
even  to  the  train,  where  several  hundred  people  were  gathered 
to  bid  her  farewell.  Women  and  children  nearly  suffocated  her 
with  flowers,  while  a  chorus  roared  loudly  in  competition  with 
the  cheers  of  the  mob.  Tired  and  well  content  Carreno  at  last 
sank  back  into  the  seat  of  her  compartment  and  spread  out  her 
cards  for  a  game  of  solitaire.  As  her  nerves  ceased  to  tingle  she 
began  to  feel  low  in  her  mind.  This  year  Christmas  could  not 
be  spent  with  her  children.  Instead  she  would  be  on  the  ocean, 
probably  seasick  in  a  storm. 


It  was  on  the  eve  of  the  new  year,  1897,  that  the  Aller  docked 
in  New  York.  Rudolph  Aronson  greeted  Carreno  at  the  pier 
and  escorted  her  to  her  apartment  in  the  Hotel  Netherland  on 
upper  Fifth  Avenue  at  Fifty-ninth  Street,  her  American  pied- 
a-terre  for  many  years  to  come.  That  her  first  appearance  was 
to  be  with  the  New  York  Philharmonic  Orchestra  promised 
well  for  the  tour  and  challenged  Carreno  to  do  her  best.  She 
chose  the  "D  minor  Concerto"  of  Rubinstein  for  this  ordeal. 
As  she  crossed  the  platform,  her  friends  noticed  the  now- 
predominating  shades  of  gray  in  her  hair,  simply  arranged  on 
top  of  her  head,  falling  becomingly  in  natural  waves  that  sof- 
tened the  etching  of  her  profile.  Her  black  velvet  dress  was 
richly  decorated  but  simple  in  line.  Frau  Pechstein  was  an  artist 
who  knew  how  to  create  the  illusion  of  height.  Before  the  pre- 
liminaries were  over,  before  a  note  had  been  played,  Carreno 
could  feel  that  her  audience  was  ready  to  play  follow-the-leader 
over  whatever  hurdles  she  would  take  them.  She  was  free  to 
forget  them,  to  relive  once  more,  in  memory  of  her  great  men- 
tor who  had  died  in  1894,  the  romantic  themes  that  she  loved. 
In  this  thrilling  setting  the  "Concerto"  became  new  and  fresh. 
The  audience  listened  in  excitement  that,  as  one  reviewer  com- 
mented, would  have  interrupted  her  opening  cadenza  with  ap- 
plause "had  it  been  a  less  refined  audience."  Not  since  Rubin- 
stein had  played  this  concerto  in  New  York  himself  had  it 
been  so  beautifully  interpreted.  W.  J.  Henderson,  a  critic  to  be 
respected,  notes  that  her  technique  has  become  more  sure,  more 
smooth,  that  her  style  has  broadened,  and  James  Huneker  adds : 
"Carreno  is  more  than  able  to  pilot  her  vessel  with  all  the  ease 
of  a  trusty  and  experienced  piano-mariner." 

To  the  critic  of  the  New  York  Advertiser  she  appeals  from  a 
different  side.  He  probably  had  not  heard  her  in  her  wilder 
days.  "She  is  a  strong  woman,  playing  her  instrument  strongly. 
— She  either  stands  revealed  in  the  glare  of  midday,  or  you 
hear  her  clear  cry  in  the  tropical  jungle  at  midnight,  while 


TERESA  CARRENO  255 

near-by  two  burning  points  tell  of  something  lurking  and  fe- 
line." Under  the  caption,  "The  Lioness  of  the  Piano,"  one  which 
aroused  Carreno's  anger  more  than  any  other,  the  critic  of  the 
New  York  World  hears  in  her  playing  the  bitterness  of  disillu- 
sionment with  life. 

She  has  lost  the  feminine  tenderness,  the  poetic  feeling,  the  suavity, 
which  were  once  elements  in  her  playing.  She  has  become  purely  a 
bravura  player — almost  brutal.  She  seems  to  have  been  completely 
influenced  by  the  methods  of  her  late  husband.  She  was  once  mag- 
netic, but  she  has  lost  that  quality  in  spite  of  the  still  potent  charms 
of  beauty  and  grace. 

Pooling  the  various  conflicting  verdicts  the  consensus  neverthe- 
less is  that  the  prodigy's  return  entitles  her  in  her  artistic  matu- 
rity to  a  place  among  the  first  of  her  contemporaries,  that  in 
whatever  way  she  may  assert  herself  she  does  so  with  the  legiti- 
mate authority  of  genius  polished  in  the  school  of  hard  work, 
and  harder  experience. 

Carreno  came  back  to  the  United  States  prepared  to  make 
amends  for  her  neglect  of  the  composer  she  once  had  so  ac- 
tively championed.  A  telegram  sent  to  her  in  Louisville  on 
April  21,  1897,  sounds  as  if  the  slight  of  former  days  were 
not  yet  forgotten.  It  ran:  "Have  just  seen  Saturday  program 
of  course  appreciate  compliment  but  dislike  Hexentanz  and 
Concert-Study  would  consider  personal  favor  if  you  left  me  out 
this  being  only  occasion  you  play  MacDowell  this  season  would 
prefer  not  having  my  weakest  piano  work  beside  Brahms  best 
[Variations  on  a  theme  of  Handel]  no  need  reprinting  program 
why  not  simply  omit  number.  E.  S.  MacDowell." 

Whether  Carreno  complied  with  the  request  is  not  known. 
But  as  soon  as  the  "MacDowell  Concerto"  reappeared  in  her 
repertoire  the  temporary  estrangement  was  entirely  put  to 
rights.  A  grateful,  whimsical,  if  slightly  formal  letter,  dated 
December  18,  1897,  helped  to  reestablish  the  friendship  in  all 
its  former  heartiness. 


256  TERESA  CARRENO 

My  dear  Teresita:  You  must  have  thought  me  very  indifferent — 
to  say  the  least — to  your  tremendous  successes  with  our  Concerto. 
I  have  meant  to  write  every  day — and  if  today  had  not  been  my  birth- 
day; consequently  a  holiday — I  might  have  put  it  off  again  until 
tomorrow.  The  day  I  heard  of  your  first  playing  it  I  myself  was 
playing  in  Boston  with  Paur.  I  tried  to  imagine  how  you  played  it 
and  did  my  best  with  my  rough  hands,  and  I  really  think  it  helped, 
for  they  gave  me  a  laurel  wreath.  Truly  I  have  been  driven  nearly 
crazy  with  work  these  last  weeks  so  I  beg  you  to  pardon  my  delay 
in  expressing  thanks  which  are  none  the  less  sincere  for  being  tardy. 
I  go  for  a  month's  Western  recitals  in  two  weeks  and  have  only  just 
begun  to  practice  for  them — have  not  had  time  before.  Added  to  all 
this  poor  Marian  is  have  a  wretched  time,  as  one  of  our  Boston 
friends,  a  lady — whose  family  all  live  in  Kentucky,  has  just  arrived 
in  New  York  all  alone  and  hopelessly  insane.  I  telegraphed  to  her 
family  and  two  doctors  and  nurses  have  full  charge,  still  the  shock 
to  Marian  was  not  the  best  thing  in  the  world —  So  you  see  we  have 
been  in  a  state  of  confusion  to  say  the  least,  and  this  late  acknowledge- 
ment of  your  choosing  my  concerto  for  one  of  your  many  triumphs 
has  some  excuse.  And  the  Concert  Study! — Well,  I  can't  help  it — I 
detest  the  thing,  though  I  have  now  to  "ochs"  on  it  myself.  The 
concert  tuner  agrees  with  me.  He  says  it  is  the  only  thing  in  my 
recitals  that  gives  him  work.( !)  It's  like  beating  carpets.  Again  pardon 
the  delay — and  levity  of 

Truly  your 

Edward  MacDowell 

Wolff  immediately  prepared  to  draw  profit  for  coming  Euro- 
pean tours  by  publishing  abroad  news  of  Carreno's  success  in 
the  United  States.  Jubilantly  he  wrote: 

Avant  tout  laissez-moi  vous  dire,  combien  nous  avons  ete  heureux 
que  la  mer  etait  une  assez  bonne  mere  pour  vous  de  sorte  que  vous 
pouviez  me  telegrafier  "right."  Puis  j'ai  appris  avec  un  profond  con- 
tentement  votre  premier  succes.  II  parait  qu'il  a  ete  le  plus  "tres 
beaucoup,"  que  Ton  puisse  avoir,  et  comme  un  tel  premier  succes 
decide  tout,  il  est  certain  que  votre  tournee  sera  une  suite  de  triomphes. 
.  .  .  Je  suis  curieux  d'apprendre  comment  la  vie  en  Amerique  vous 
plait  maintenant.  J'espere  que  pas  trop  bien — car  nous  vous  conside- 


COLUMBIA  UNIVERSrTY 
IN    THE    CITY  OF  NEW  YORK 

DEPARTMENT  OF   MUSIC 


"fe .  sf.  /f&r 


*£*&e&t^       -       t/    <0t<^s&2.     -^E^-r       <e^e^      ^^^ 

"•***■      "^    ***<^J~*.      *£**<,      s^~,        *s*%c~ 


7 


Letter  from  Edward  MacDowell  to  Carre  ho 


258  TERESA  CARRENO 

rons  comme  citoyenne  europeenne  maintenant,  qui  a  seulement  le 
droit  de  ramasser  de  temps  en  temps  beaucoup  de  dollars  en  Ame- 
rique. 

And  he  was  right.  Carreno  could  now  look  at  America  from 
a  different  perspective.  Standing  on  the  foundation  built  of 
her  established  success  across  the  Atlantic  she  now  towered  in 
honored  relief.  No  more  traveling  in  uncomfortable,  dirty  day 
coaches  in  the  company  of  pseudo-artists  that  seconded  her  only 
feebly,  no  more  second-rate  hotels  and  low  fees,  no  more  sitting 
up  late  after  a  concert  to  wash  underwear  and  mend  concert 
dresses  that  had  been  worn  too  often.  Was  she  much  happier 
now,  she  wondered,  as  she  looked  out  upon  the  Avenue?  She 
used  to  be  so  strong,  so  well.  Now  there  were  headaches  and 
twinges  of  rheumatism  to  plague  her.  The  doctors  were  not 
helpful,  their  unanimous  advice  a  season  of  complete  rest.  Rest 
indeed !  She  thought  of  her  children  in  their  expensive  schools, 
of  her  apartment  at  2,500  m.  a  year,  of  Bertha  Pechstein's  last 
bill  of  7,000  m.,  of  Fraulein  Krahl,  Josephine,  and  the  two 
other  servants.  Carreno  laughed.  It  struck  her  ears  disagreeably, 
and  she  cut  it  abruptly  short,  reaching  instead  for  the  Russian 
cigarette,  which  helped  to  make  life  tolerable. 

Then,  quickly  she  turned  from  her  own  troubles  to  those  of 
others.  How  might  she  help  poor,  pathetic,  patient  Arturo! — 
her  eyes  glowed  with  a  gentler  light.  And  dear  Mrs.  Watson 
who,  gifted  as  she  was,  really  should  be  playing  in  public  in- 
stead of  teaching  day  after  day.  She  must  find  her  a  good  man- 
ager. When  Henriette  knocked  at  the  door,  Carreno's  spirits 
were  so  far  restored  that  she  volunteered  to  give  her  a  lesson 
next  morning  and  suggested  a  shopping  expedition. 

Almost  immediately  after  its  promising  beginning  Carreno 
sensed  that  all  was  not  well  with  the  tour.  Aronson  had  written 
her  that  he  had  contracts  for  more  than  thirty  engagements. 
When  she  arrived  there  were  only  twenty-three.  Moreover,  he 
had  scheduled  her  first  recital  in  the  hall  of  the  Waldorf  Hotel 
where  major  concerts,  such  as  she  was  contracted  to  give,  did 
not  habitually  take  place.  That  in  itself  was  contrary  to  the  bar- 


TERESA  CARRENO  259 

gain.  When  after  a  concert  the  fee  was  not  forthcoming,  dis- 
satisfaction reached  the  breaking  point.  Evidently  Aronson, 
if  overflowing  with  good  intention,  had  insufficient  capital. 
Knowing  that  the  Knabe  Piano  Company  had  guaranteed  the 
contract,  she  did  not  hesitate  to  make  this  firm  responsible.  An- 
other impresario  must  be  appointed. 

Acting  for  R.  E.  Johnston,  J.  W.  Cochran  now  became  the 
personal  representative  of  Carreno's  tour.  He  was  a  young  man 
not  without  experience  in  the  managerial  field.  His  genial  na- 
ture and  sense  of  humor  appealed  to  Carreno  as  much  as  the 
fact  that  he  idolized  her.  So  without  too  much  apparent  con- 
fusion the  concerts  went  on  as  planned. 

In  Boston,  still  the  arbiter  of  all  things  musical,  the  Herald 
writes:  "She  returns  to  us  more  stately  of  presence,  more  im- 
posing of  manner,  than  when  she  was  here  last,  and  at  the 
same  time  a  more  deep,  serious,  and  matured  artist,  ranking 
with  the  best  in  her  art."  To  the  Boston  Gazette  "Madame  Car- 
reno has  reached  a  position  where  criticism  is  superfluity.  In 
the  matter  of  technique,  in  the  largeness  of  style,  adaptation  of 
means  to  end,  fine  taste,  and  self  reserve,  she  is  the  finished 
artist."  The  Boston  Times  gives  the  final  vote  of  confidence: 
"Among  the  few  virtuosal  triumphs  which  this  generation  is 
likely  to  remember  might  be  cited  the  first  concerts  given  here 
by  Rubinstein,  Billow,  d'Albert,  and  Paderewski.  To  this  short 
list  it  is  now  our  pleasure  to  add  Teresa  Carreno."  The  Phila- 
delphia North  American  agrees: 

Every  promise  of  her  earlier  years  has  been  more  than  fulfilled.  No 
such  piano  playing  has  been  heard  in  Philadelphia  for  years,  without 
forgetting  the  wonderful  performance  of  Adele  aus  der  Ohe  upon 
the  occasion  of  Tschaikowsky's  visit  to  this  city,  when  she  played  that 
composer's  first  Concerto  from  manuscript,  and  broke  her  health 
in  the  effort  which  it  cost  her.  As  for  that  gentle  genius,  I.  Pade- 
rewski, he  is  in  quite  another  class. 

Chicago  had  every  right  to  claim  a  major  part  in  making 
Carreno  famous,  and  it  was  there  that  the  greatest  ovation  of 


260  TERESA  CARRENO 

the  entire  tour  awaited  her.  The  criticism  of  the  Chronicle 
sounds  like  one  of  1863: 

The  audience  shouted  like  politicians  at  a  political  convention.  The 
women's  shrill  sopranos  sounded  above  the  hoarse  roars  of  their 
escorts'  approval,  and  they  split  their  gloves  and  blistered  their  hands 
in  the  wildness  of  their  enthusiasm.  When  from  sheer  exhaustion 
they  could  applaud  no  more,  the  tumult  even  increased  by  the 
stamping  of  feet,  and  hundreds  of  white  handkerchiefs  fluttered  from 
balcony  and  parquet.  The  Campanella  trill  was  the  event  of  the  eve- 
ning. At  the  close  the  people  mounted  the  stage,  hugged  and  kissed 
her,  and  someone  proposed  three  cheers  for  Carrefio  which  were  given 
with  a  will.  Then  two  hundred  people  started  in  procession  for 
the  green-room  to  obtain  souvenirs. 

Aside  from  the  exigencies  of  a  performing  artist's  daily  life, 
aside  even  from  the  longing  for  her  two  little  girls  ill  at  home 
with  the  measles,  there  was  another  ever-stalking  dread.  It  had 
lurked  in  hiding  during  the  days  of  happiness  with  d' Albert, 
and  finally  came  to  light  in  print  before  the  final  break  in  1895 : 

One  of  the  husbands  of  the  pianistic  bird  of  brilliant  plumage,  Teresa 
Carreno-Sauret-Tagliapietra-d'Albert,  is  on  the  war-path  after  his 
fickle  spouse.  The  enraged  baritone  declares  he  will  go  to  Europe 
and,  if  need  be,  take  by  force  his  two  children  from  the  custody  of 
their  beautiful  mother,  who,  rumor  asserts,  is  fonder  of  her  present 
husband,  Eugen  d'Albert,  than  of  any  predecessors.  Tagliapietra, 
called  Tag  popularly,  is  not  an  amiable  person  when  aroused,  and 
it  looks  as  if  there  were  a  storm  brewing  for  the  Carrefio  household 
when  the  opera  baritone's  operatic  season  is  ended. 

The  storm  had  been  temporarily  sidetracked,  but  during  Car- 
reno's  visit  to  the  United  States  it  again  gathered  force.  Tag's 
special  grievance  was  that  Carrefio  had  left  him  with  several 
months  of  rent  and  of  installments  on  their  furniture  unpaid. 
Hardly  landed  in  America  she  was  subjected  to  the  annoyance 
of  letter  after  letter  asking  for  the  $1,000  which  he  believed  to 
be  his  due,  although  it  was  Carrefio  who  had  always  paid  all 


TERESA  CARRENO  261 

their  common  expenses.  He  refused  to  take  part  in  an  interview 
in  the  presence  of  a  lawyer,  but  gradually  the  letters  strike  a 
threatening  note,  and  his  demands  increase  to  $2,000  for  found- 
ing a  "Singing  Conservatory."  Again  he  appeals  to  her  sym- 
pathy: "With  you  rests  the  balance  of  my  old  age,  just  as  you 
had  the  youth  of  my  life,"  he  declares  theatrically.  "I  would 
come  personally  to  see  you,  but  I  am  so  poorly  clothed  that  I 
would  feel  humiliated."  When  he  proposed  serving  her  with  a 
summons,  it  was  time  to  take  precautionary  measures.  A  de- 
tective was  engaged  as  a  protection  from  possible  attack,  and 
the  time  of  Carreiio's  sailing  for  Europe  was  kept  secret.  Even 
the  elder  MacDowells  and  Juan  Buitrago,  who  were  to  spend 
the  summer  in  Berlin  and  Pertisau,  took  passage  with  her  on 
the  Saale  under  assumed  names,  sailing  May  18,  1897.  In  Sep- 
tember comes  the  final  echo  of  a  long-surmounted  past.  Ta- 
gliapietra's  demands  have  diminished: 

In  my  life  with  you,  you  were  always  ready  to  help  strange  people. 
I  don't  understand  why  you  should  not  help  a  man  who  has  lived 
fifteen  years  with  you,  a  man  from  whom  you  had  three  children,  a 
man  who  only  claims  what  he  has  spent  for  you,  at  last,  a  man  who, 
outside  of  family  quarrels,  has  treated  you  with  respect  and  considera- 
tion. I  only  ask  you  for  $1500  to  be  able  to  open  a  Conservatory,  and 
make  my  living. 

It  is  no  longer  affection  he  allegedly  seeks,  but  money  to  pre- 
vent suicide.  This  constant  persecution  might  have  gone  on  for 
years  had  he  not  found  another  solution  for  his  difficulties. 

Half  a  year  later  he  married  Margaret  Townsend,  daughter 
of  a  once  wealthy  lawyer,  and  passes  out  of  the  picture  as  far 
as  Carreno  is  concerned.  Such  artists  as  Joseffy  and  Edwin 
Booth  frequented  the  Sunday  evening  salons  of  the  Townsends 
which,  in  the  eyes  of  conservative  New  York  society,  were  a 
shocking  desecration  of  the  Sabbath.  The  house  at  343  West 
Thirty-fourth  Street  gradually  lost  caste  as  business  crept  up, 
and  as  the  Townsend  fortune  dwindled  took  on  a  shabby,  for- 


262  TERESA  CARRENO 

lorn  look.  After  the  death  of  Mr.  Townsend  it  was  sold  as  a 
boarding  house  in  which  Tag  and  his  wife  continued  to  share 
a  back  bedroom  downstairs.  It  was  their  little  dog  "Frolic"  who 
on  April  12,  1921,  announced  in  low  moaning  howls  that  the 
once-so-colorful  career  of  his  master  had  ended. 


BERLIN    1897 

Teresa    Carreno   with    her   Children    Giovanni  and   Teresita 
Tagliapietra,  Eugenia  and  Hertha  d' Albert 


In  every  way  this  highly  important  season  had  fulfilled  its  pur- 
pose for  Carreno,  who  might  well  feel  gratified  that  she  had 
won  in  the  United  States  the  right  to  be  compared  only  with 
the  greatest  of  her  field,  irrespective  of  sex.  Nevertheless,  she 
was  not  reluctant  to  abandon  it  for  the  atmosphere  of  Germany 
more  congenial  to  the  artist.  Still  something  of  a  Yankee  at 
heart,  she  loved  America,  but  no  longer  wished  to  live  there. 
This  trip  had  settled  that  question  definitely. 

On  the  way  back  Carreno  had  time  to  reread  the  weekly  let- 
ters that  Teresita  wrote  from  school.  One  brought  the  tears  to 
her  eyes: 

Do  you  remember  how  lovely  Coswig  looked  in  summer  ?  Once,  the 
time  d'Albert  was  in  America,  you  sent  me  out  of  the  tyeine  Salon 
in  the  evening  in  the  garden  to  pick  a  few  leaves  to  put  in  your  letter 
to  him.  .  .  .  Do  you  remember  how  we  made  la  ronde  in  every  room 
in  the  house  in  the  evening,  when  the  painters  had  gone  ? 

When  Puppi  was  born  we  used  to  lay  her  in  the  cradle  on  the 
porch  stoop,  and  I  sat  by  her,  and  kept  the  humming  bees  and  flies 
away  with  a  Jaeger  handkerchief.  And  how  we  used  to  get  up  early 
and  Spargelstechen  [dig  asparagus].  And  later  we  used  to  pick 
strawberries  and  eat  them  with  sugar  and  cream  for  dinner. 

She  recalls  that  they  had  their  meals  outdoors  either  on  the 
wide  lawn,  or  on  the  little  platform  over  the  ice  cellar,  or  un- 
der a  beautiful  pear  tree,  and  sometimes  in  the  little  summer- 
house,  or  on  the  porch  in  front  of  the  h}eine  Salon,  and  when 
d'Albert  was  in  America  they  went  to  the  circus  or  the  zoo 
every  single  Saturday.  "And  then  how  we  used  to  water  the 
vegetables  and  the  flowers  and  all  that,  all  together  barefoot, 
running  around  with  our  hair  loose,  and  with  a  long  hose  in 
our  hands.  That  must  have  been  a  sight  for  other  people,  too 
funny  for  anything." 

She  herself  brought  up  a  problem,  suggested  a  new  line  of 
development,  which  might  have  resulted  in  a  happier  future 
for  a  child  of  her  temperament.  Teresita  had  become  absorbed 
in  the  study  of  science.  Quite  rightly  she  feared  the  surplus  of 


264  TERESA  CARRENO 

pianists,  as  much  as  her  own  nervousness  in  playing  before 
others,  dreading  comparison  with  her  great  mother.  She  did 
not  wish  to  become  "an  old  piano  teacher."  Instead  music 
might  better  be  her  avocation.  She  would  like  to  go  to  Karls- 
ruhe to  study  science  there,  were  it  not  too  much  of  a  sacrifice 
for  her  mother.  Not  minding  a  mixture  of  languages  she  writes 
in  April:  "I  love  Wissenschaft  so  much  as  you  have  no  idea. 
Everything  is  so  logicle.  Think  of  Mathematics,  what  grand 
logic  it  contends.  Oh!  [and  this  is  reminiscent  of  the  melodra- 
matic tone  of  her  father's  letters]  ...  if  I  could  only  serve  the 
greatest  of  all  Gods,  Wissenschaftl"  Teresita's  solicitude  for  her 
mother  is  unaffected.  She  is  puzzled  that  Carreno  comes  home 
sooner  than  planned.  "Has  it  anything  to  do  with  that  man  I 
am  obliged  to  call  Father  ?  Is  it  because  the  agents  have  cheated 
you  like  so  many  times  before?  I  have  cried  so  much  and  for 
the  first  time  I  have  truly  felt  the  real  seriousness  of  your  Beruf. 
Seldom  tears  were  spilt  so  free  from  Egoismus." 

Teresita  was  allowed  to  leave  school  to  welcome  her  mother 
in  Berlin.  Science  was  forgotten.  This  may  have  been  a  major 
mistake.  Carreno  considered  Teresita's  progress  in  piano  play- 
ing so  remarkable  that,  instead,  she  sent  her  back  to  school  to 
work  doubly  hard  at  the  piano. 

R.  E.  Johnston  meanwhile  was  doing  some  calculating.  He 
barely  gave  Carreno  time  to  reach  home  before  suggesting  plans 
for  another  tour  in  America.  He  explains:  "You  see,  I  am  tak- 
ing no  pianist,  as  I  prefer  to  wait  for  the  great  pianist,  not  be- 
cause she  is  such  a  great  pianist,  but  because  she  is  the  best 
fellow,  and  the  best  lady  to  do  business  with  that  I  ever  en- 
countered in  the  happy  experience  of  a  business  association." 
Carreno  loses  no  time  in  replying.  Hers  are  no  uncertain  terms. 
She  is  willing  to  consider  a  tour  of  not  less  than  eighty  con- 
certs at  $500  each,  clear  of  all  expenses  for  two  people.  She  will 
play  either  Knabe,  Chickering,  or  Steinway,  preferably  Stein- 
way.  The  contract,  made  with  R.  E.  Johnston  and  J.  W.  Coch- 
ran, is  to  be  guaranteed  by  the  piano  house. 

In  a  long  letter  to  Carrie  Reed  Carreno  takes  time  to  explain 


TERESA  CARRENO  265 

her  sudden  sailing  back  to  Germany.  She  attributes  it  to  her 
homesickness  for  the  children,  to  the  fact  that  Aachen  was  ex- 
pecting her  to  take  part  in  the  music  festival  of  the  lower  Rhine, 
and  lastly  to  the  menace  of  Tag.  After  her  concert  in  North- 
ampton the  day  before  leaving  she  barely  had  time  to  reach 
the  boat.  On  she  rambles  of  her  summer,  her  ill  health,  her 
hard  work.  Then  she  gives  a  forecast  of  the  coming  season, 
beginning  on  October  10  with  a  Philharmonic  Concert  in  Ber- 
lin. From  then  on  she  is  to  travel  through  Germany,  Austria, 
Hungary,  Holland,  and  perhaps  England  before  Christmas, 
then  to  Russia 

with  the  Good  Lord's  help.  And  I  begin  to  feel  very  weary  of  it  all. 
I  just  long  for  a  good  rest,  and  yet,  I  presume,  that  if  I  got  it,  I 
would  not  know  what  to  do  with  my  life,  after  having  worked  all 
my  life  as  I  have.  It  is  because  I  can't  get  it  that  I  want  it.  Human  all 
over!  [And  she  begs  Carrie  to  write  often]  Don't  forget  what  an 
unhappy  woman  I  am  in  reality,  and  in  spite  of  all  the  glory,  and  all 
I  may  have,  that  my  true  and  only  happiness,  besides  my  children  and 
my  art,  is  the  love  of  those  I  love.  .  .  . 

From  Mrs.  Watson  Carreno  hears  that  the  "Teresita  Waltz" 
"has  become  almost  as  much  of  a  universal  favorite  as  Pa- 
derewski's  Minuet  at  one  time." 

Carreno  expected  the  same  integrity  from  her  managers  that 
she  offered  them  in  all  her  own  dealings.  Her  stand  on  any 
matter  was  always  definite,  and  her  rules  for  keeping  her  pres- 
tige up  were  simple.  Never  would  she  play  in  any  town  for  a 
smaller  fee  than  the  one  she  received  there  before  for  a  similar 
engagement,  neither  would  she  accept  a  call  to  play  in  a  con- 
cert to  replace  another  artist,  even  though  it  had  cost  her  on 
that  account  a  last  opportunity  to  play  the  "D  minor  Concerto" 
of  Rubinstein  under  his  own  leadership  in  Cologne  the  year 
before  his  death.  Nor  would  she  tolerate  that  untruths  be 
printed  about  her.  She  did  not  hesitate,  disagreeable  as  it  was, 
to  sue  a  New  York  journal  for  libelous  remarks  made  against 
her,  a  suit  later  settled  for  cash  out  of  court  and  followed  by 


266  TERESA  CARRENO 

public  retraction  and  a  laudatory  biographical  article.  On  the 
other  hand  she  valued  the  favorable  repercussion  in  Germany 
of  her  successful  season  in  the  United  States.  "To  disappear  en- 
hances" was  as  true  for  one  side  of  the  Atlantic  as  for  the  other. 
But  although  she  could  show  the  world  to  others  through 
her  music  vividly  tinted  as  if  through  polaroid  glass,  her  own 
sky  was  long  drained  of  color.  Life  through  much  tasting  had 
lost  its  flavor.  Even  a  king  or  two  in  the  audience  was  only  a 
tame  incident.  The  music  itself  mattered,  and  would  have  mat- 
tered more,  if  there  were  more  leisure  for  practice.  Even  visit- 
ing new  countries  was  scarcely  thrilling  with  no  more  time  at 
her  disposal  than  to  drive  around  the  city.  She  submitted  to  of- 
ficial calls  and  receptions  just  as  she  allowed  herself  to  be 
richly  dressed  in  a  manner  befitting  a  person  of  her  prominence. 
Happy  from  the  heart  she  could  only  be  with  her  children,  and 
a  very  few  intimate  friends,  preferably  old  friends  whose  loy- 
alty had  stood  the  test.  There  were  men  that  would  have  liked 
to  marry  her,  who  could  have  freed  her  from  financial  cares. 
Carreno  was  not  tempted. 

Once  again  after  an  insufficient  period  of  relaxation  in  Pertisau 
the  winter  season  took  its  course.  The  "Concert  fitude"  of  Mac- 
Dowell  and  his  "Concerto"  found  a  place  upon  her  programs 
again.  In  one  of  her  own  concerts  with  orchestra  Carreno  chose 
to  play  three  concerti,  the  "Emperor  Concerto"  of  Beethoven, 
the  "Capriccio  Brillante"  of  Mendelssohn,  her  friend  of  long 
ago,  and  the  "Second  MacDowell  Concerto"  toward  which 
there  seemed  to  be  a  definite  change  of  heart.  Otto  Taubmann 
felt  that  she  reached 

the  full  height  of  her  accomplishment  in  the  interesting  and  valuable 
MacDowell  Concerto.  The  very  piquant  Scherzo  had  to  be  repeated. 
That  this  Concerto,  although  treated  symphonically  throughout, 
yet  furnishing  the  artist  with  so  remarkably  grateful  if  difficult  and 
taxing  a  problem,  has  been  so  little  noticed  by  pianists  is  striking,  the 
more  so  because  a  superabundance  of  such  musically  worthwhile  and 
pianistically  challenging  works  of  this  kind  does  not  exist. 


TERESA  CARRENO  267 

The  field  of  chamber  music  which  Carreno  had  entered  with 
her  own  composition  proved  to  be  an  outlet  that  was  to  delight 
her  increasingly.  With  d'Albert  as  with  Sauret  she  had  ex- 
plored the  intimacies  of  musical  give  and  take.  When  Julius 
Klengel,  noted  cellist  of  Leipzig,  asked  her  to  play  the  "Sinding 
Quintette"  with  the  men  of  his  group,  she  accepted  joyfully. 
In  compliment  her  "Quartette"  also  had  place  on  the  program. 
At  a  later  concert  of  the  Halir  Quartette  Carreno  again  ap- 
peared, taking  part  in  the  "Sonata"  of  Mrs.  H.  H.  A.  Beach  for 
violin  and  piano.  Another  pleasure  awaited  her.  For  the  sixtieth- 
anniversary  celebration  in  honor  of  Max  Bruch  she  appeared  to- 
gether with  Josef  Hofmann  in  Bruch's  "Fantasie,"  op.  11,  for 
two  pianos. 

To  Russia,  to  England,  and  home  again  the  season  unreeled 
itself.  The  days  succeeded  each  other  like  variations  on  a  more 
and  more  hackneyed  theme.  Wherever  travels  might  take  her 
the  routine  was  similar.  Arriving  at  her  destination  with  the 
faithful  shadow,  her  maid,  and  not  forgetting  to  count  the 
manifold  pieces  of  Handgepac\,  she  at  once  made  for  the 
usually  handsome  but  unhomelike  suite  reserved  by  Wolff  in 
the  best  hotel  of  whatever  the  city  might  be.  If  the  hour  were 
early,  a  continental  breakfast  was  served  in  her  room.  There, 
enveloped  in  her  long-treasured  red  wrapper,  she  could  read  her 
letters.  The  blue-gray  aura  of  the  first  cigarette  of  the  morning 
made  her  feel  less  strange.  Soon  it  was  time  to  notify  the  local 
manager  of  her  arrival,  to  thank  the  piano  house  for  setting  up 
a  practice  instrument  in  her  parlor.  There  might  be  a  rehearsal 
before  luncheon  or  a  walk  to  the  hall  to  make  the  acquaintance 
of  an  unfamiliar  concert  grand.  Nothing  was  permitted  to  in- 
terfere with  the  game  of  solitaire  that  ushered  in  the  siesta. 
Later  official  guests,  perhaps  the  mayor  of  the  city  or  the  heads 
of  musical  organizations,  were  received  with  the  gracious  re- 
moteness that  helped  to  shorten  their  visit.  Only  a  few  friends 
and  business  associates  were  invited  to  stay  for  tea  if  Carreno 
happened  to  be  in  the  mood. 

Then  came  the  ceremony  of  the  day,  a  rite  which  she  would 


268  TERESA  CARRENO 

concede  to  no  other  person,  that  of  arranging  her  hair  for  the 
concert.  In  preparation  the  triptych  mirror  was  flanked  by  twin 
candles.  Hair  pins  in  graduated  sizes  lay  in  military  rows  be- 
fore it.  Gradually  her  hair,  piled  high  in  a  simple  knot,  took 
on  the  look  of  a  finely  grained  surface,  shading  from  onyx 
black  to  the  white  of  marble,  each  strand  seeming  to  come  to 
rest  in  unintended  rightness,  even  to  the  willful  wisp  that  had 
escaped  to  curl  itself  tight  at  the  nape  of  the  neck. 

The  long-trained  dress,  be  it  of  brocade  and  lace,  of  silk- 
velvet  trimmed  with  heavy  gold  braid,  or  of  elaborately  em- 
broidered chiffon,  had  the  complicated  machinery  worthy  of  a 
modern  motor.  To  put  it  together  was  the  maid's  affair,  a  task 
over  which  she  perspired  more  than  Carreno  in  a  whole  week 
of  concerts.  Putting  on  matching  slippers  that  seemed  too  small 
to  carry  her  considerable  weight,  Cinderella  was  ready  for  the 
ball. 

She  stepped  into  the  carriage  with  the  precision  of  a  business 
magnate  going  to  his  office.  During  the  concert  nobody  was  al- 
lowed to  approach  her.  She  was  alone  with  her  music  in  a 
world  that  had  no  room  even  for  the  thought  of  her  children  or 
of  herself.  Many  a  time  she  played,  and  played  her  best,  when 
an  attack  of  influenza  had  sent  her  temperature  up  to  101  de- 
grees. Nothing  but  the  serious  illness  of  a  child  could  make  her 
cancel  a  recital.  At  all  costs  she  would  keep  faith  with  her 
audience.  Then  after  the  last  encore,  most  often  the  "Teresita 
Waltz,"  the  maid  quickly  threw  a  heavy  embroidered  shawl 
about  her  shoulders,  while  Carreno  made  ready  to  shake  hands 
with  those  who  felt  impelled  to  express  their  gratitude  in  words, 
but  often  became  tongue-tied  in  her  presence.  With  ready 
understanding  of  the  young  students  who  hopefully  held  out 
programs  and  pencils  for  her  autograph,  she  smiled  winningly, 
asking  kindly,  "Where  shall  I  put  it,  my  dear?"  Then  she 
scrawled  her  name  with  a  flourish,  while  her  eye  already  wel- 
comed the  next  in  line,  a  man  who  put  his  admiration  into 
words  consistent  with  his  gold  watch  chain  and  carefully 
pressed  swallow-tail.  Carreno  seemed  to  grow  taller  as  she 


TERESA  CARRENO  269 

passed  him  on  with  a  formal:  "You  are  very  kind  indeed,  very 
kind."  Then,  recognizing  a  familiar  face,  she  opened  her  arms 
wide.  "My  dear,  my  dear,  how  are  you,  and  how  are  your 
precious  children?  You  must  come  and  see  me  tomorrow  be- 
fore I  leave,  and  tell  me  all  about  everything.  Did  you  really 
think  I  played  well?"  Then  to  her  manager:  "Your  hall  has 
admirable  acoustics.  I  am  always  so  glad  to  play  here  for  you. 
Every  detail  is  so  carefully  planned,  and  such  a  large  audience! 
You  are  kind  to  take  so  much  trouble,  very  kind." 

A  little  girl  attracted  her  attention  in  the  background :  "And 
who  are  you,  my  dear?"  Shyly  she  came  nearer.  "I  just  wanted 
to  look  at  you,  please.  I  play  the  piano  too."  "Well,  my  dear, 
then  we  are  colleagues!  Marie,  please  take  this  young  artist's 
name  and  address.  I  want  to  send  her  my  photograph  for  her 
studio.  You  must  let  me  know  when  you  play  in  Berlin,  my 
dear,  and  remember  that  nobody  becomes  an  artist  without 
hard  work.  It  is  not  an  easy  life.  Good-night,  my  dear.  I  see  in 
your  eyes  that  you  are  earnest.  You  have  good  piano  hands. 
With  courage  and  perseverance  you  will  succeed.  Good-night, 
my  dear  and  Auf  Wiedersehen!"  A  radiant  child  flew  away, 
taking  with  her  something  more  uplifting  than  lessons  to  urge 
her  on.  Finally  for  the  last  time  Carreno  had  said  a  patient, 
"You  are  very  kind."  People  were  still  standing  about  in 
groups :  "Marie,  my  coat,  if  you  please !  You  will  excuse  me  if  I 
leave  you  now.  It  is  late  and  tomorrow  I  must  play  again. 
Thank  you  very  much.  You  are  very  kind.  I  will  come  again." 
Preceded  by  ushers  bearing  flowers,  a  large  bunch  in  her  own 
arms,  and  followed  by  Marie,  also  heavily  laden,  Carreno  made 
her  way  to  the  waiting  carriage. 

Back  in  the  hotel  Marie  unhooked  the  gown.  Madame  liked 
to  have  it  done  quickly,  for  now  came  the  culmination  of  the 
day.  Another  concert  was  wiped  off  the  slate.  At  last  she  could 
relax  in  the  comfort  of  her  negligee  for  a  midnight  dinner.  No 
other  meal  aroused  such  an  appetite.  To  be  invited  to  share  it 
was  to  know  Carreno  in  her  most  captivating  moments.  From 
oysters  to  ices  with  a  bottle  of  champagne  to  raise  her  spirits  she 


270  TERESA  CARRENO 

scintillated  with  humorous  anecdotes,  and  unburdened  her 
heart  in  reminiscence  now  sad,  now  gay.  A  last  cigarette  over 
a  last  game  of  solitaire  and  one  more  concert  day  had  passed. 
The  next  might  be  different  in  setting,  different  in  detail, 
But  from  now  on  her  concerts  were  in  general  but  the  neutral 
background  for  the  weaving  of  the  patterns  of  her  children's 
lives,  of  the  lives  of  a  few  close  friends.  What  happened  to  her 
personally  ceased  to  be  of  first  importance,  except  as  it  affected 
them.  Skies  were  gay  or  gray,  as  she  was  well  or  ill  to  work  for 
them,  as  they  lived  up  to  her  desires  for  them,  or  failed  to  do  so, 
as  she  was  able  or  impotent  to  help.  There  was  within  her  un- 
defined a  loneliness  for  a  companion  with  whom  she  could 
enjoy,  could  advise,  could  forget. 

For  the  summer  of  1898  Carreno  chose  a  new  setting  in 
Schwaz  near  Innsbruck.  A  modest  and  rather  inconvenient 
castle,  Schlosschen  Friedheim,  was  her  home.  But  there  too  was 
a  deep  blue  lake  encircled  by  mountains.  There  she  could  walk 
alone  or  accompanied  by  adoring  followers.  With  much  of  her 
old  gusto  she  joined  in  their  nonsense,  even  played  for  their  danc- 
ing. She  allowed  herself  to  be  photographed  in  their  midst. 
But  into  the  privacy  of  her  studio  nobody,  not  even  the  chil- 
dren, intruded.  There  for  hours  at  a  time  she  practiced,  taught, 
suffered,  wrote,  and  puffed  in  peace.  The  happiness  of  the 
household  depended  upon  the  mood  in  which  she  emerged  from 
her  refuge.  Eyes  looked  up  anxiously.  Would  she  suggest  an  ex- 
cursion into  the  mountains,  or  as  they  dreaded,  would  she  com- 
plain: "I  am  not  feeling  at  all  well,"  and  disappear  to  have  tea 
in  miserable  solitude. 

Carreno's  desk  was  as  always  piled  high.  A  conservatory  in 
Berlin  made  her  a  flattering  offer  to  join  its  staff.  This  she  de- 
clined. In  one  way  or  another  she  was  constantly  being  re- 
minded of  d'Albert.  He  insisted  upon  biweekly  reports  concern- 
ing the  health  of  their  children.  Meetings  were  arranged  and 
much  to  Carreno's  relief,  postponed  again.  There  were  annoy- 
ing conferences  between  his  lawyers  and  hers.  Carreno  was  hu- 
man enough  to  be  elated  at  the  rumor  that  he  was  not  playing 


TERESA  CARRENO  271 

as  well  as  before.  Some  critics  even  went  so  far  as  to  suggest 
that  he  marry  less  often  and  give  the  piano  too  a  temporary 
rest. 

Then  there  was  always  a  manager  to  scold  for  real  or  fancied 
omissions.  When  she  angrily  complained  that  the  time  of  an 
important  rehearsal  in  Dresden  had  not  been  imparted  to  her, 
Hermann  Wolff  shook  off  the  drops  of  her  displeasure  with  one 
of  his  tactful  and  merry  letters. 

Oh,  mignonne,  Reine  Veuve,  Imperatrice-Pianiste,  si  vous  ne  saviez 
nieux  par  coeur  vos  concertos  que  vos  lettres,  vous  ne  vous  appelleriez 
ni  Teresa  ni  Carreno.  Fixez  vos  yeux  miraculeux  sur  la  lettre  du  24 
mars.  Vous  y  trouverez  le  passage  classique  et  immortel:  Repetition 
generale — 7  h.  Ni  Schiller,  ni  Goethe  se  sont  exprimes — je  connais 
leurs  ceuvres — d'une  facon  plus  nette  et  plus  poetique.  Repetition 
generale!  Comme  c'est  tres  bien  dit  et  plein  de  charme.  Aucun  doute 
de  quoi  il  s'agit,  tandis  que  en  Faust  (surtout  dans  la  seconde  partie) 
vous  trouvez  des  endroits  nebuleux  et  beaucoup  moins  clairs. 

7  h.,  naturellement  du  soir.  Kant,  le  philosophe  de  Konigsberg, 
l'aurait  probablement  ajoute.  Mais  l'agent  poete,  s'adressant  a  l'artiste, 
supprime  ce  mot,  laissant  a  la  fantaisie  de  la  pianisticule  de  paraitre  a 
7  h.  du  matin. 

Et  puis  comme  un  petit  Capriccio,  comme  un  Intermezzo  charmant 
Fernow  vous  a  chante  dans  une  autre  lettre  une  admirable  melodie. 
L'on  desire  une  petite  repetition  a  1  h.,  ce  qui  confirmait  de  nouveau 
l'inestimable  repetition  generale  du  soir.  Conclusion:  Pardonnez- 
moi  d'etre  le  sacrifice  d'un  petit  oubli  de  votre  cote.  Comme  je  Fadore, 
ce  cote! 


Time  always  passed  on  eager  feet  in  Germany  and  spun  itself 
out  with  nostalgic  drag  in  America.  On  the  day  after  Christmas, 
1898,  Carreno  tore  herself  away  once  again  to  cross  the  ocean 
on  the  Trave.  Almost  everything  but  the  sea  ran  smoothly.  The 
Chickering  piano  house  became  her  official  manager  with  }.  W. 
Cochran  as  personal  agent.  In  its  final  form  the  contract,  if  it 
did  not  fulfill  her  demands,  assured  her  of  a  larger  income 
than  before,  and  of  a  third  again  as  many  concerts.  Accom- 
panied by  her  maid  and  Chickering's  most  reliable  tuner,  Mr. 
Ruhenbeck,  Carreno  traveled  to  the  Far  West.  She  did  not  easily 
let  circumstances  upset  her,  not  even  when  a  snowslide  held  her 
train  stalled  in  the  mountains  of  Colorado  for  two  whole  days, 
preventing  her  from  giving  her  first  concert  in  San  Francisco. 

Instead  of  considering  her  own  plight  she  went  to  see  if  all 
were  well  in  the  day  coach  ahead.  As  always  the  children  at- 
tracted her,  and  she  at  once  picked  out  the  dirtiest  and  hun- 
griest little  girl.  The  mother  had  other  children,  and  was  glad 
to  be  relieved  of  one  of  them,  so  Carreno  carried  her  prize  off 
triumphantly  to  her  stateroom,  undressed  and  bathed  her, 
washed  her  clothes  and  put  her  to  bed  on  the  sofa.  What  did  it 
matter  if  the  huge  reception  planned  in  her  honor  would  have 
to  be  given  up!  For  the  moment  nothing  could  be  done  about 
that;  she  might  as  well  make  the  best  of  it.  Of  all  the  interludes 
of  the  trip  this  was  the  happiest.  Not  so  for  the  tuner.  Carreno, 
unmindful  of  the  blizzard,  sent  him  off  into  the  town  of  Salida 
to  buy  the  supplies  she  needed  for  her  little  protegee. 

This  arduous  season  had  one  great  compensation.  It  reestab- 
lished her  friendship  with  Edward  MacDowell  on  its  old  foot- 
ing. The  "D  minor  Concerto"  was  everywhere  so  well  received 
that  she  thought  of  resurrecting  the  earlier  one  in  "A  minor" 
as  well.  Before  making  a  change,  which  in  her  opinion  would 
improve  the  first  movement,  she  wrote  asking  the  composer's 
permission,  to  which  he  replied  in  a  droll  letter  dated  March 
2,  1899: 


TERESA  CARRENO  273 

Respected  Valkyrie  and  Grandmother:  Why  did  you  consult  me 
about  that  streak  of  "light"  you  let  in  on  that  bit  of  dramatic  depravity 
in  the  first  part  of  my  Concerto  ?  Now  that  you  ask  me,  I  must  admit 
I  intended  that  passage  to  have  a  kind  of  "Atlas  with  a  sore  back" 
effect.  I  have  just  played  it  over  in  major  and  it  was  like  dosing 
Atlas  with  vin  Mariani.  So  there  you  are! — Seriously — I  had  planned 
the  whole  passage  on  the  broad  line  of  steady  development  from  dolce 
to  feroce — I  think  the  triumph  of  the  few  measures  in  major  dis- 
turbs the  steadiness  of  the  progression.  Of  course  I  can  see  how 
effective  the  new  bit  of  color  would  be — and — you  shouldn't  have 
asked  me!  There  are  lots  of  things  in  the  concerto  I  myself  would 
not  do  as  they  are  written  (I  mean  of  course  technically  and  in  regard 
to  expression  marks)  and  would  give  anything  to  hear  you  play  it. 
As  you  know,  there  is  nothing  more  despairing  than  trying  to  put 
certain  things  in  black  and  white  and  this  old  concerto  has  never 
been  revised  by  me  since  it  first  came  out.  You  certainly  must  do 
wonders  with  it  and  whatever  you  do  will  be  right,  because  it  will 
come  from  the  heart. — If  you  ask  me  a  plain  question  about  notes 
however — I've  got  to  tell  the  truth,  and  I  must  admit  the  passage  in 
question  has  a  minor  pug  nose  instead  of  a  major  straight  one. — I 
have  been  studying  your  dates  and  am  wondering  if  you  will  be  in 
N.  Y.  between  Pittsburgh  and  Boston  (March  14-17),  or  between 
Buffalo  and  Pittsburgh  (10-14).  If  so,  do  let  me  know  so  that  I  can 
make  confessions  about  the  concerto. — They  shan't  hamper  you  in 
the  smallest  particular —  No  need  to  say  thank  you!!  Your  faithful 
Grandson — 

Mutual  respect  and  modest  independence  speak  from  this  very 
characteristic  letter  of  Carreno's  one-time  pupil. 


On  May  16, 1899,  Carreno  left  for  home  on  the  S.S.  Lahn.  Lon- 
don claimed  her  for  concerts  in  June.  July  was  spent  in  Kolberg 
that  the  children  might  have  sea  bathing.  Then  again  the 
homelike  gates  of  Villa  Heigl  in  Pertisau  opened  to  receive  her, 
closing  to  shut  out  the  world.  Carreno  was  free  to  face  her  per- 
sonal problems.  It  was  appalling  to  find  them  more  compli- 
cated than  ever.  Where  should  she  begin  ?  To  whom  should  she 
turn  for  advice  ?  Chief  among  her  obligations  was  always  Ter- 
esita, at  home  since  Easter.  Musically  she  was  developing  as- 
tonishingly under  the  guidance  of  Josef  Hofmann.  Carreno 
was  proud  to  admit  that  even  she  herself  could  not  make  a  com- 
position as  quickly  her  own  as  Teresita.  There  were  no  diffi- 
culties that  with  perseverance  could  not  easily  be  conquered  by 
her  gifted  child. 

Released  from  the  restrictions  of  school,  which  she  detested, 
Teresita  expected  to  be  allowed  to  enter  unhampered  upon  her 
rights  as  an  adult.  It  irked  her  to  find  that  home  life  too  de- 
manded concessions.  Learning  how  to  manage  a  household  was 
an  unthinkable  bore  to  her  who  had  not  a  practical  thought  in 
her  mind,  quite  aside  from  the  chaos  it  created  within  that 
household.  This  tangent  was  quickly  abandoned.  Fraulein 
Krahl  took  over  the  tangled  reins  and  jangling  nerves  were 
soon  quieted,  but,  as  long  as  Teresita  was  at  home,  never  for 
long.  When  mother  and  daughter  were  together  there  was 
thunder  in  the  air.  After  open  clashes  between  them  the  situa- 
tion always  returned  to  the  status  quo  ante.  Carreno  felt  in- 
adequate to  deal  with  this  child,  well  as  she  understood  her, 
and  she  saw  that  preparing  Teresita  for  a  productive  career 
would  continue  to  be  as  difficult  as  compressing  quicksilver  into 
permanent  shape,  as  teaching  a  darting  hummingbird  to  plane 
like  a  sea  gull.  In  spite  of  school,  in  spite  of  the  remonstrance  of 
a  too  anxious  mother,  Teresita  remained  undisciplined,  unac- 
countable, more  often  disagreeable  than  friendly.  She  blamed 
everybody  from  God,  in  whom  she  had  no  real  belief,  to  fate 
and  her  mother,  the  most  convenient  target.  Money  in  a  de- 


TERESA  CARRENO  275 

pression  was  not  less  stable  than  her  own  sense  of  values.  A  new 
dress,  the  gratification  of  a  wish,  could  make  Teresita  angel- 
ically charming,  when  to  contradict  her  might  easily  cause  a 
family  tornado.  Trying  to  appeal  to  her  reason  was  as  useless  as 
attempting  to  make  a  fingerprint  on  water.  Carreno  was  in 
despair.  She  knew  herself  to  be  too  temperamental  to  deal 
rightly  with  a  daughter  in  whom  she  saw  so  much  of  herself. 
If  only  Teresita  had  had  a  wise  father  like  her  own!  Finally  it 
seemed  inadvisable  for  both  to  live  in  the  same  apartment.  Ter- 
esita was  sent  to  a  friend,  for  the  moment  a  good  solution.  The 
thought  flashed  into  her  mother's  mind  more  than  once.  "I 
wonder  what  Arturo  would  say."  When  she  had  failed,  he  had 
always  been  able  to  manage  Teresita  and  Giovanni.  His  ideas 
were  so  sane,  so  practical.  If  only  she  could  ask  Arturo's  ad- 
vice! 

Carreno  carefully  examined  the  receipts  of  her  recent  Amer- 
ican tour.  For  a  moment  she  dreamed  of  a  villa  of  her  own — it 
might  be  wise  to  buy  this  very  one — where  she  could  eventually 
live  the  unpretentious  life  of  a  private  citizen.  She  looked  for- 
ward more  and  more  eagerly  to  the  time  when  her  children 
would  be  self-supporting.  With  a  wrench  she  called  herself 
back  to  reality.  The  landlord  had  raised  the  rent  but  she  could 
not  bear  the  thought  of  moving.  She  would  write  to  Cochran 
that  the  next  American  tour  must  last  eight  months  at  the 
shortest,  remembering  also  to  remind  him  never  again  to  allow 
those  obnoxious  three-sheet  posters  to  advertise  her  as  "the 
lioness  of  the  piano."  A  lioness  indeed.  She  a  trained  circus 
animal !  It  reminded  her  of  lyceum  circuits,  of  stuffy  back  bed- 
rooms, of  dirty,  airless  halls  that  smelled  of  beer  and  cowboys. 
Last  year,  whenever  she  saw  these  posters — and  who  could  miss 
them — she  had  paid  a  man  to  tear  them  down. 

This  done  and  sealed  with  an  emphatic  thump,  she  turned 
to  write  a  letter  reprimanding  Giovanni  for  playing  his  mouth 
organ  in  study  hall.  "The  little  Devil!"  And  he  nearly  old 
enough  to  leave  school!  What  next?  Her  head  ached.  She 
would  have  tea  in  the  music  room  alone;  she  would  give  no 


276  TERESA  CARRENO 

more  lessons  today.  Those  baths  in  Italy  might  help  her  rheu- 
matism. But  then  what  would  all  the  students  do  who  had 
spent  their  precious  money  to  come  to  her  here  ?  She  turned  to 
the  piano,  her  best  medicine,  and  soon  was  lost  in  the  Schu- 
mann "Fantasia,"  searching  for  new  tone  effects,  for  deeper 
verities. 

The  fall  of  1899  came  almost  before  she  was  aware  of  it,  and 
long  before  she  was  ready  duty  like  an  eagle  was  carrying  her 
in  clutching  talons  through  Germany  and  Russia  and  back 
again  before  Christmas.  She  felt  inwardly  repaid  to  play  in 
Europe  again,  even  though  financially  she  earned  one  third  as 
much  as  in  America. 

Among  the  unpaid  bills  lay  a  communication  from  the  Court 
of  Wiirttemberg.  In  return  for  two  complimentary  concerts  His 
Majesty,  the  King,  would  be  pleased  to  honor  her  with  the 
Title:  "Pianist  of  the  Royal  Chamber."  Carreno  smiled  wanly; 
but  this  burdensome  honor  could  not  well  be  refused,  and  must 
be  correctly  answered.  Not  until  she  had  made  three  drafts  of 
her  acceptance  was  she  satisfied  that  all  the  endings  were  right 
and  the  word  order  could  not  be  misinterpreted  or  improved. 
She,  by  the  authority  of  genius  Royal  Chamber  Musician  to  the 
Court  of  God  and  Beethoven,  could  not  help  finding  all  this  a 
little  silly.  The  comment  in  her  diary  on  December  4  is  an  elo- 
quent "Ouf !" 

Christmas  with  the  children  was  over.  The  new  year  1900 
with  its  new  demands  was  upon  her.  Life  moved  too  swiftly  for 
recording.  It  was  as  if  the  cities  passed  her  by  while  she  re- 
mained standing.  Each  concert  was  brushed  away  with  the 
same  satisfaction  that  a  schoolgirl  takes  in  snipping  off  the 
heads  of  rows  of  paper  dolls  to  mark  the  days  before  vacation. 
Automatically  she  followed  her  approved  routine,  playing  for 
better,  for  worse,  in  sickness  or  in  health,  always  insisting  upon 
her  best  though  caring  little  what  the  critics  wrote.  In  spite  of 
the  pleasurable  memories  that  almost  every  concert  brought,  she 
continued  to  find  deepest  comfort  in  the  inscription  a  king  of 


TERESA  CARRENO  277 

old  had  caused  to  be  engraved  upon  his  ring:  "This  too  shall 
pass." 

Carreno's  friends  saw  the  danger  of  strain  without  letup.  They 
warned  against  a  summer  in  its  way  as  taxing  as  the  winter, 
and  advised  against  the  load  of  teaching,  rewarding  as  she 
found  it.  It  promised  a  certain  kind  of  immortality  in  a  too 
transient  world. 

This  particular  summer  there  were  other  serious  burdens  to 
carry.  Teresita,  whose  Latin  temperament  felt  itself  constricted 
in  the  stays  of  Berlin  decorum,  had  taken  it  upon  herself  to  go 
to  Paris,  asking  posthumous  permission  to  stay  there  after  she 
was  safely  installed  in  a  pension.  Carreno  was  obliged  to  ap- 
prove, and  she  at  once  made  arrangements  to  have  Teresita 
continue  her  studies  with  her  good  friend  Maurice  Moszkow- 
ski.  Meeting  her  upon  the  street  one  day  this  witty  gentleman 
doffed  his  hat  and  sang  his  "good-morning  Madame  Carreno," 
even  to  the  turn  over  the  n,  according  to  musical  tradition, 
much  to  their  joint  amusement. 

Worry  over  Teresita  weighed  lightly  balanced  against  the 
sudden  illness  of  Hertha,  her  baby.  Local  doctors  failed  to  check 
the  fever  constantly  at  a  peak  of  high  danger;  authorities  con- 
sulted by  telegram  were  not  more  helpful.  In  desperation  Car- 
reno turned  to  a  Berlin  specialist  in  the  nature-cure  methods 
advocated  by  d'Albert.  For  a  fabulous  sum  she  persuaded  him 
to  visit  her  child  for  the  single  hour  of  time  at  his  disposal.  Ac- 
cording to  Fraulein  Krahl  the  simple  remedy  of  a  clay  pack 
hardening  through  the  internal  heat,  drew  out  the  fever  and 
saved  the  life  of  the  child.  Night  after  night  the  mother 
watched  and  helped.  For  the  period  of  convalescence  Eugenia 
and  Hertha  were  sent  to  the  higher  altitude  of  Merano,  while 
Carreno,  completely  exhausted,  recovered  as  she  might  among 
her  duties.  It  was  not  the  best  of  ways  to  prepare  for  a  lengthy 
tour  of  the  United  States. 

Teresita,  meanwhile,  found  freedom  to  do  as  she  liked  in 
Paris  very  congenial.  On  the  whole  she  made  good  use  of  her 
time  and  even  gave  a  successful  concert  in  Paris  at  the  Exposi- 


278  TERESA  CARRENO 

tion  under  a  committee  headed  by  Camille  Saint-Saens.  In 
order  to  avoid  all  comparison  with  her  mother,  she  appeared 
simply  under  the  name  T.  C.  Tagliapietra. 

Before  leaving  for  America  Carreno  made  a  special  journey 
to  Paris,  thinking  in  a  sudden  burst  of  pride  to  take  Teresita  to 
New  York,  where  she  herself  could  give  her  lessons  and  for 
experience  send  her  pupils.  But  Teresita  preferred  to  stay  where 
she  was  in  the  semi-Bohemian  atmosphere  that  suited  her  so 
much  better. 


Mr.  Cochran  had  made  his  arrangements  with  the  care  born 
of  real  devotion  to  a  cause  in  which  he  fervently  believed.  His 
was  the  full  responsibility,  which  was  materially  lessened  by 
the  backing  of  Steinway  &  Sons.  The  tour  began  to  unwind  it- 
self at  first  without  incident.  It  took  her  to  the  Middle  West, 
Canada,  and  back,  then  southward  to  New  Orleans  and  Savan- 
nah, from  where  she  sailed  for  Havana  on  the  S.S.  Olivette. 

One  of  her  best  ideas — at  least  so  she  was  convinced — had 
been  thwarted  by  a  too  practical  manager.  It  had  pained  her  to 
see  Arturo  Tagliapietra  patiently  trudging  through  the  streets 
of  New  York  in  the  interest  of  a  typewriter  company,  always 
uncomplaining,  earning  a  sum  upon  which  another  would  have 
found  it  impossible  to  exist.  His  loyalty  was  touching,  and  she 
felt  herself  in  gratitude  bound  to  him  who  had  insisted  that 
she  take  the  decisive  step  of  her  life.  What  a  good  advance  agent 
to  send  to  Cuba  and  Mexico,  thought  Carreno!  Mr.  Cochran 
thought  otherwise,  going  himself  instead. 

In  Havana,  the  scene  of  a  great  childhood  triumph,  the  re- 
ception to  "La  Duse  del  Piano"  was  as  effusive  but  not  so  uni- 
versal as  it  should  have  been.  A  ball  given  by  the  Governor  as 
well  as  the  great  heat  was  brought  forward  in  excuse.  One  jour- 
nal stated  the  case  frankly:  "Music  in  Cuba  is  an  industry  not 
an  art,"  and  rather  overstrained  his  imagination  in  comparing 
Carreno  "in  her  dress  of  black  gauze  ornamented  with  gold 
sequins"  to  Wagner's  Briinnhilde.  Another  critic  thought  that 
the  augmented  prices  might  have  been  to  blame  for  the  empty 
boxes  and  adds :  "But  who  could  buy  a  bottle  of  champagne  for 
so  little?" 

Carreno  herself  in  a  letter  to  Carrie  Reed  preferred  to  disre- 
gard this  feature  of  the  trip.  As  usual  every  concert  must  appear 
to  be  a  success,  every  event  a  happy  one.  She  wrote : 

The  heat  was  so  intense  that  I  was  quite  overcome  by  it,  and  all 
I  could  do  when  people  gave  me  an  hour  or  two  of  respite  was  to 
lie  down  and  gasp  for  air  and  breath.  It  was  simply  awful!  I  gave 


280  TERESA  CARRENO 

three  concerts,  and  to  this  moment  I  do  not  know  where  I  found 
sufficient  energy  to  play.  Well,  I  did,  and  I  had  a  good  time  while 
I  was  there.  All  the  old  friends  of  my  childhood,  those  still  there, 
came  to  greet  me  in  the  most  kind  and  loving  manner.  .  .  . 

Her  best  send-off  was  the  comment  of  the  Havana  Post: 

Although  her  own  magnetic  personality  is  ever  present  to  her  lis- 
teners, she  herself  forgets  it,  and  loses  herself  in  the  spirit  of  her 
author,  bringing  out  his  national  characteristics,  his  temperament,  his 
school,  and  her  artistic  conscience  is  so  keen  that  she  takes  no  liberties 
whatsoever  with  text  or  time.  I  was  amazed  to  see  that  such  effects 
could  be  accomplished  by  such  legitimate  means,  but  what  an  artist 
it  takes  to  do  it! 

The  trip  to  Vera  Cruz  on  the  once-good  ship  Seneca — her  en- 
gines had  been  condemned,  she  no  longer  carried  freight,  nor 
did  she  carry  insurance — began  well  enough,  although  she  rose 
so  high  in  the  water  that  six  feet  of  the  copper  bottom  showed 
above  the  surface.  The  first  hours  were  spent  by  Carreno  and 
her  manager  counting  boxes  full  of  coin,  the  receipts  of  the 
Havana  concerts,  and  trying  to  translate  them  into  dollars  and 
cents.  It  was  a  difficult  game.  After  the  Spanish- American  War 
Cuban  currency  was  in  a  state  of  chaos.  In  the  boxes  were  coins 
of  many  lands,  among  them  an  oxidized  Spanish  doubloon, 
which  Carreno  bought  to  keep  as  a  forte  bonheur.  The  estimate 
had  finally  been  reached  and  punctuated  with  much  laughter, 
when  a  stiff  Norther  blew  up,  sending  the  Seneca  pitching  and 
rolling  about  in  crazy  gyrations.  At  the  climax  of  the  storm 
Carreno  sent  for  Mr.  Cochran.  The  maid  lay  in  one  berth,  an 
hysterical  Carreno  in  the  other.  She  was  no  longer  the  little  girl 
of  the  Washington  whose  faith  comforted  others.  "I  shall  never 
see  my  children  again,"  she  moaned.  Mr.  Cochran  himself  was 
not  sure  that  she  would,  but  he  managed  to  appear  confident, 
and  soon,  danger  forgotten,  they  were  again  joking  with  each 
other.  The  letter  to  Carrie  Reed  continues : 

It  took  us  a  whole  week  to  make  a  voyage  that  should  have  lasted 
two  days,  and  all  owing  to  the  mismanagement  of  the  steamship 


TERESA  CARRENO  281 

company.  To  begin  with  the  steamer  was  an  old,  rickety,  incapable 
concern,  and  so  we  had  to  stop  at  two  Mexican  ports,  El  Progreso 
and  Campeche.  It  happened  to  be  Ash  Wednesday  when  we  arrived 
at  the  first,  so  the  natives  felt  that  their  religious  conscience  absolutely 
forbade  their  working  on  that  or  the  following  day.  .  .  .  After  Cam- 
peche we  had  one  of  the  worst  storms  that  it  has  been  my  bad  luck 
to  experience  at  sea.  How  seasick  I  was,  my  darling!  No  name  can 
be  given  to  that  torture,  .  .  .  and  on  the  31st  of  the  month  I  hope  to 
be  in  Chicago  where  I  play  on  the  first  of  April.  (I  wonder  who  will 
be  fooled  on  that  day,  the  public  or  I!) 

In  Mexico  City,  where  Carreno  had  never  been  before,  she 
found  at  her  disposal  a  bungalow  nestling  in  a  sweet-smelling 
garden.  Her  coming  was  considered  not  only  a  musical  but  a 
social  event.  The  Minister  of  Finance  under  the  Diaz  adminis- 
tration wished  to  entertain  her  at  dinner,  thus  honoring  the 
daughter  of  a  former  colleague  of  Venezuela.  The  function  be- 
gan at  eleven  at  night  and,  interrupted  by  speeches  and  toasts, 
lasted  interminably.  Carreno  had  ample  time  to  examine  the 
elaborately  embroidered  tablecloth,  die  rows  of  heavy  silver 
epergnes  filled  with  flowers  and  tropical  fruits.  While  they  were 
still  at  table  the  clock  struck  half  past  four. 

One  of  her  concerts  was  given  for  the  Jockey  Club,  after  which 
a  deputation  presented  her  with  a  silver  wreath  resting  upon  a 
white  satin  pillow.  Carreno  accepted  it  with  a  polite  speech  in 
Spanish.  Then  turning  to  Mr.  Cochran,  she  wailed  sotto  voce: 
"What  am  I  going  to  do  with  it  ?  I  could  sleep  on  the  pillow,  but 
no  matter  how  famous  I  become,  my  head  will  never  be  large 
enough  for  that  wreath."  Until  she  had  brought  it  safely  to  her 
own  fireside,  it  seemed  as  if  she  were  doing  nothing  but  paying 
duty  on  that  particular  white  elephant. 

On  the  morning  of  her  first  concert  in  Mexico  City  Carreno 
accompanied  her  manager  to  the  Teatro  del  Renacimiento  to 
become  familiar  with  the  piano.  It  was  apparent  that  the  stage 
had  not  been  cleaned  for  many  days,  and  Carreno  gave  strict 
orders  that  the  platform  be  thoroughly  scrubbed  before  the  per- 
formance. True  to  Mexican  form  the  work  was  done  at  the 


282  TERESA  CARRENO 

last  moment,  and  the  stage  was  still  wet  when  Carreno  swished 
out  upon  it.  As  she  bowed  acknowledgment  after  the  first 
group  of  solos  her  foot  slipped.  She  narrowly  saved  herself  from 
falling,  but  at  the  expense  of  an  ankle  that  began  to  swell  even 
before  she  reached  the  wings,  making  her  faint  with  pain.  Mr. 
Cochran  suggested  giving  up  the  concert.  Carreno  refused.  Out 
she  walked  upon  the  stage  as  if  nothing  had  happened.  Nobody 
in  the  audience  was  aware  that  every  step  was  agony.  The 
concert  took  place  to  the  last  encore.  The  story  of  the  mishap 
and  of  her  stoicism,  which  Mr.  Cochran  shared  in  confidence 
with  the  press,  did  its  part  to  increase  her  popularity — and  her 
audiences.  So  captivated  were  the  Mexicans  that  they  suggested 
an  additional  benefit  performance  which  would  undoubtedly 
have  brought  huge  returns.  It  meant,  however,  the  cancellation 
of  a  date  in  a  small  California  town,  where  the  fee  was  cor- 
respondingly low.  Rather  than  break  faith  with  her  commit- 
ments, Carreno  gave  up  an  opportunity  she  greatly  coveted. 
Money  was  never  allowed  to  be  a  primary  consideration,  but 
she  turned  her  back  with  regret  upon  people  that  spoke  her 
language  and  had  made  her  feel  at  home. 

In  Nashville  she  proved  again  that  with  her  the  audience  al- 
ways came  first.  She  was  about  to  begin  her  concert — the  hall 
was  filled  to  the  last  seat — when  the  local  manager  burst  into 
the  room.  His  box-office  receipts  had  been  attached  for  failure 
to  pay  a  printing  bill  of  long  standing.  There  was  no  money 
for  the  artist,  there  could  be  no  concert.  Carreno  patted  him  re- 
assuringly on  the  back.  "These  people  have  come  in  good  faith 
to  hear  me,  I  will  on  no  account  disappoint  them." 

In  Cincinnati,  a  tribute  that  thrilled  her  profoundly,  the  en- 
tire audience  rose  to  its  feet  at  the  end  of  the  concerto.  Crit- 
ics, having  no  other  ground  for  fault-finding,  called  attention  to 
Carreno's  size  which  had  visibly  increased  since  her  last  appear- 
ance in  America.  Many  seconded  the  wish  of  one  who  said 
aloud:  "May  her  shadow  grow  less." 

In  every  respect  the  journey  went  from  one  stormy  ovation  to 
another,  reaching  its  climax  in  the  New  York  farewell  concert. 


TERESA  CARRENO  283 

Flowers  in  profusion,  encore  after  encore,  and  at  last  a  reception 
half  an  hour  in  length  made  her  feel  certain  that  she  had  not 
yet  worn  her  welcome  out. 

The  tour  was  well  over  with  a  fair  profit  for  both  the  mana- 
ger and  the  artist.  As  the  carriage  bumped  along  through  the 
desolate  streets  of  Hoboken  toward  the  pier,  Carreno  was 
hardly  conscious  of  the  German  band  on  a  corner  playing  its 
homesick  folk  songs.  She  and  her  manager  leaned  back  in  deep 
content.  On  the  uncomfortable  bench  opposite  Arturo  sat 
drooping.  Just  to  make  conversation  Mr.  Cochran  turned  to  his 
artist:  "There  is  only  one  thing  you  still  need,  Madame!  That 
is  a  secretary.  Arturo  should  make  a  capital  one.  Why  don't  you 
smuggle  him  along  in  your  trunk?"  Carreno  took  up  the  sug- 
gestion. "That's  an  idea,  Arturo!  If  you  take  the  next  boat  I 
will  pay  your  expenses,  and  [this  with  a  grand  theatrical  ges- 
ture] you  may  name  your  own  salary."  Arturo's  blue  eyes 
gleamed.  "Do  you  really  mean  it,  Teresita?"  Still  in  the  mood 
of  the  game  Carreno  answered:  "Of  course  I  do,"  and  tapping 
him  lightly  on  the  shoulder  with  her  umbrella  she  declaimed  in 
approved  Valkyrie  style:  "I  hereby  knight  you  my  secretary." 
Then,  as  the  carriage  drew  up  at  the  pier  she  pointed  to  the 
door:  "Arise,  Sir  Secretary!"  Surrounded  by  a  swarm  of  friends 
she  promptly  forgot  all  about  Arturo  standing  modestly  on  the 
fringe  of  the  circle.  As  the  S.S.  Maria  Theresia,  her  namesake, 
pulled  out,  there  he  was  jumping  up  and  down  like  a  puppet 
on  a  string,  until  he  reached  the  vanishing  point.  Carreno  turned 
away  from  the  rail.  Did  he  really  think  she  meant  it?  Would 
he  come  ?  She  left  it  to  fate  and  quickly  lost  herself  in  the  happy 
thought  that  soon  she  would  be  seeing  her  children.  No  matter 
how  seasick  she  might  be,  every  chug  of  the  engine  was  bring- 
ing her  closer  to  them.  Laden  with  the  good  returns  of  her 
concerts — each  one  had  brought  from  $300  to  $ 600  to  add  to  her 
reserves — she  could  indeed  look  forward  into  a  brighter  future. 

At  home  again  her  first  problem  was  as  always  Teresita.  On 
her  own  initiative  she  had  once  more  settled  in  Paris,  ostensibly 
studying  and  teaching,  but  according  to  all  reports  leading  the 


284  TERESA  CARRENO 

disorganized  life  that  suited  her  so  well.  It  was  not  unusual  for 
Teresita,  returning  from  some  pleasurable  jaunt,  to  find  the  pas- 
sage blocked  by  a  student  whose  lesson  she  had  conveniently 
forgotten.  Carreno  knew  something  must  be  done,  and  done 
quickly.  But  what  ?  "If  Arturo  were  here,  he  would  know,"  she 
thought,  and  then  her  attention  centered  upon  Giovanni  idly 
at  home  since  Easter. 

Herr  Ansfeld,  the  director  of  Schnepfenthal,  advised  ad- 
vanced schooling  and  suggested  Eisenach.  That  Giovanni's  ca- 
reer would  not  be  an  intellectual  one  was  obvious.  His  gifts 
were  above  the  average,  his  ambition  far  below.  The  violin,  for 
which  he  showed  talent,  seemed  to  present  the  best  solution. 
Carreno  took  it  upon  herself  to  investigate  the  possibilities  of 
Eisenach.  On  her  way  there  she  was  attracted  by  Friedrichroda. 
High  in  the  Thuringerwald,  it  combined  a  variety  of  the  walks 
she  loved  with  the  pure  air  necessary  for  Hertha's  well-being. 
There  too  was  ample  accommodation  for  students.  She  rented 
one  of  its  larger  villas  on  the  Schlossweg  and  returned  to  Berlin 
well  satisfied.  Much  still  remained  to  be  done  before  leaving. 


One  morning  very  early — nobody  was  stirring — the  sound  of 
the  doorbell  awakened  Josephine.  Looking  more  than  ever  like 
a  frightened  rabbit,  she  tripped  to  answer  it,  hands  folded, 
shoulders  bent  as  if  in  constant  prayer,  and  on  the  way  she 
shook  her  head.  "Poor  Madame,  these  awful  Germans  have  no 
respect  for  the  hours  of  sleep.  And  she  sleeps  so  lightly.  What 
can  they  be  wanting  now?" 

As  she  unchained,  unlocked,  and  unbolted  the  door  there 
stood  a  little  man,  his  blond  mustache  and  goatee  disheveled, 
his  trousers  unpressed,  but  his  eyes  twinkling,  as  he  held  a 
warning  finger  to  his  lips.  "If  it  isn't  Mr.  Arturo,"  beamed 
Josephine.  Arturo  whispered:  "It  is  to  be  a  surprise  so  big,  you 
have  no  idea.  You  must  help  to  hide  me."  Josephine  in  the 
spirit  of  the  game  scurried  away  for  hot  water  and  towels, 
while  Arturo  did  the  best  he  could  to  repair  the  ravages  of  a 
night  in  a  German  third-class  compartment.  His  coat  was 
frayed  at  the  collar,  his  trousers  worn  at  the  knee.  In  spite  of 
too  evident  poverty,  there  was  a  certain  dapper  neatness  about 
him,  and  as  he  straightened  his  waistcoat,  the  mirror  answered 
back:  "Arturo,  you  might  look  worse!"  Stowed  away  in  the 
room  that  gave  directly  onto  the  dining  room  he  waited  with 
what  patience  his  pounding  heart  could  muster  for  the  gather- 
ing of  the  family  at  breakfast  time.  Carrefio  in  her  voluminous 
wrapper  finally  took  her  seat  at  the  coffee  urn.  She  replied  to 
her  children's  anxious  glances :  "No,  I  am  not  feeling  at  all  well 
today.  Perhaps  it  would  be  better  to  give  up  Friedrichroda. 
Those  Italian  baths,  they  say,  are  so  good  for  rheumatism."  The 
children  looked  aghast.  Carrefio  suddenly  became  aware  of 
Josephine  by  her  side,  wringing  her  hands  nervously,  standing 
with  an  air  of  perpetual  apology,  as  if  asking  plenary  indul- 
gence for  having  been  born.  "What  is  it,  Josephine?"  Carrefio 
sounded  impatient,  and  Josephine's  voice  rose  higher  and 
higher:  "Please,  Madame,  there  is  a  very  large  package  in  the 
next  room.  The  man  said  it  is  important.  Will  Madame  be  so 
kind  as  to  look  at  it  now,  if  you  please?"  Carrefio  frowned. 


286  TERESA  CARRENO 

What  fool  of  a  person  could  have  thought  of  putting  it  in  there! 
She  could  not  remember  having  ordered  anything  large  and 
heavy.  All  at  once  the  door  opened,  and  framed  within  it  stood 
Arturo,  his  eyes  shining  points  of  sky  blue.  Forgotten  was  the 
rheumatism  as  Carreno  enveloped  her  ^^-brother-in-law  in  a 
hug  of  welcome.  Strange  that  she  hadn't  noticed  before  how 
fine  a  day  it  was !  The  family  barometer  took  a  miraculous  turn 
upward.  Yes,  they  would  go  to  Friedrichroda. 

In  a  thousand  little  ways  Arturo  knew  how  to  make  himself 
useful.  Only  a  week  and  it  seemed  as  if  he  had  always  been  a 
member  of  the  household.  The  little  room  at  the  right  of  the 
entrance  became  his  office.  There  tirelessly  he  made  order  in 
the  business  files  and  worked  at  his  German  so  that  one  day 
he  might  be  able  to  answer  the  telephone.  Carreno  sent  him  on 
the  delicate  mission  of  bringing  Teresita  home  from  Paris, 
where  she  had  gone,  again  on  her  own  venture,  after  a  passably 
successful  concert  tour  in  Sweden.  Tactfully  suggesting  a  trip 
to  Italy  to  visit  her  father's  family,  Arturo  succeeded  in  entic- 
ing her  by  that  roundabout  way  back  to  Berlin. 

To  Giovanni  he  appealed  through  their  common  love  for 
taking  long  bicycle  rides,  and  their  friendship  was  cemented 
over  the  chessboard.  Arturo  was  adept  at  the  game.  That  he 
was  careful  to  the  point  of  fussiness,  that  nobody  could  pack 
as  neatly  as  he,  that  no  task  was  too  difficult  or  too  insignificant 
for  him  if  it  was  she  who  wanted  it  done,  Carreno  soon  dis- 
covered. Fraulein  Krahl  was  the  only  one  displeased  by  his 
coming.  Meanwhile  the  atmosphere  of  the  summer  colony  in 
Friedrichroda  was  saturated  with  gaiety.  Even  Teresita,  pre- 
paring for  her  first  long  concert  tour,  was  amenable  to  her 
mother's  teaching. 

Before  it  was  time  to  leave  Friedrichroda  Carreno  had  come  to 
a  momentous  decision.  Arturo  must  be  invested  with  higher 
authority  than  that  of  uncle  or  secretary.  His  influence  over  the 
children  depended  upon  it.  As  for  her,  she  found  his  presence 
completely  congenial,   yes,   indispensable.  He  knew  how  to 


TERESA  CARRENO  287 

soothe  her  nerves  when  they  were  out  of  tune.  His  companion- 
ship was  diverting.  Above  all  else  here  was  a  man  whose  de- 
votion to  her  was  established  beyond  fear  of  turning,  who 
would  even  play  solitaire  with  her.  And  practically  and  affec- 
tionately he  needed  her  as  she  needed  him.  How  often  she  had 
said  to  Mr.  Cochran:  "If  I  only  had  someone  whom  I  could 
ask  with  the  assurance  of  a  frank  answer  'How  did  I  play  last 
night?' "  She  made  her  decision.  Arturo  must  travel  with  her, 
not  as  her  secretary  but  as  her  husband.  Hertha  and  Eugenia 
some  months  before  had  seriously  discussed  this  all-important 
subject.  Hertha  opened  it  by  saying:  "It  would  be  good  if 
Mammie  married  another  Papa."  But  Eugenia  warned  her: 
"Don't  tell  her  that.  She  would  feel  offended.  She  might  think 
we  didn't  have  enough  just  with  her." 

In  her  usual  direct  way  it  was  Carreno  who  made  the  ad- 
vances. No  aurora  borealis  had  ever  yet  appeared  with  such  ter- 
rifying beauty  to  mortal  man  as  this  cataclysmic  proposal  to  the 
ultramodest  Arturo.  How  could  he  be  a  fitting  husband  for  the 
great  Carreno!  His  heart  said  a  jubilant  "yes,"  but  not  without 
misgivings.  What  about  the  children  later  on?  Would  it  be 
for  their  best?  What  would  the  world  have  to  say?  Carreno 
brushed  aside  his  fears.  If  there  were  difficult  moments,  at  least 
they  would  face  them  together. 

At  the  end  of  September  the  announcement  exploded  with 
the  repercussion  of  a  major  tremor  throughout  the  world  of 
music.  To  the  international  press  it  gave  food  for  frivolous  and 
insulting  comment.  In  artistic  circles  it  became  the  joke  of  the 
season.  Carreno's  friends  were  divided  into  two  camps,  those 
who  abruptly  chose  to  cancel  their  intimacy  with  a  person  sud- 
denly gone  mad,  and  those  who,  incredible  as  they  found  this 
step,  decided  to  capitulate  to  a  decision  they  could  not  alter. 
Emma  Koch  and  her  mother  joined  the  first,  while  Mrs.  Mac- 
Dowell  and  Mrs.  Watson,  after  doing  their  best  to  influence 
Carreno  not  to  take  the  irrevocable  step,  lined  up  with  Mr. 
Cochran  on  the  other  side.  Carreno  looked  with  a  heavy  heart 
upon  the  havoc  her  coming  marriage  was  creating  in  her  circle. 


288  TERESA  CARRENO 

Gathering  her  real  friends  more  closely  within  its  shrinking  cir- 
cumference she  turned  her  thoughts  to  her  children.  At  last 
they  should  have  the  father  they  needed. 

For  the  sake  of  the  children  Carreno,  although  she  still  be- 
lieved that  ties  of  affection  were  the  only  binding  ones,  agreed 
that  the  marriage  should  take  place  according  to  the  involved 
machinery  of  the  German  law.  These  complications  combined 
to  defer  the  marriage  until  the  summer  of  1902. 

There  was  no  fear  in  Carreno's  heart  that  she  might  be  mak- 
ing a  mistake.  She  opened  her  heart  as  well  as  that  of  Arturo 
in  a  letter  to  a  good  friend  and  pupil: 

You  have  seen  enough  of  my  life  to  know  for  yourself  how  lonesome 
I,  in  reality,  was,  and  how  empty  my  poor  heart,  and  can  fully  un- 
derstand me.  That  I  am  happier  than  I  ever  dreamed  of  being  is  but 
a  short  and  poor  description  of  my  feelings,  and  even  if  I  wrote  you 
the  longest  letter  and  tried  to  convey  to  you  what  I  feel,  I  could  not  tell 
you  all  I  would  like  to  tell  you!  As  you  know  what  I  suffered  and  you 
really  are  my  friend,  I  know  that  you  will  rejoice  in  my  happiness, 
which  is  the  happiness  I  have  longed  for  all  my  life,  that  of  possessing  a 
true,  loyal,  and  noble  heart — who  will  help  me  through  the  few  years 
that  I  may  have  to  live  (they  cannot  be  many,  for  I  am  an  old  woman 
now)  and  who  will  share  with  me  my  troubles  as  well  as  my  joys. 
This  Arturo  will  do  as  my  husband,  just  as  he  used  to  do  when,  in 
silence,  he  loved  me  during  all  these  years  and  when  I  only  thought 
that  I  inspired  in  him  the  greatest  sympathy  on  account  of  the  mis- 
ery which  I  underwent  with  his  brother.  I  never  dreamed  that  he  had 
for  me  any  more  than  the  affection  of  a  brother,  and  not  the  slight- 
est suspicion  did  I  have  that  the  affection  which  I  yearned  for  was 
mine.  Had  I  only  known  it!  Isn't  it  a  strange  thing  that  all  these 
years  should  have  passed — he  loving  me  devotedly  all  these  fourteen 
years — I  absolutely  ignorant  of  it,  and  only  now  my  eyes  should 
have  been  opened?  He  was  too  proud  to  allow  himself  to  show  his 
true  feelings  to  me,  and  only  through  the  force  of  circumstances  did 
I  become  aware  of  what  he  felt  for  me.  How  strange  life  is  after  all! 
All  I  had  before,  only  flattered  my  vanity. — My  heart  took  no  part  in 
it  all,  excepting  the  love  I  bear  my  children  and  my  true  and  deep 
affection  for  my  friends.  Otherwise  I  was  most  unhappy,  for  I  missed 


TERESA  CARRENO  289 

the  true  and  loving  heart  which  I  wanted  for  my  own,  the  com- 
panion of  my  lonely,  sad  hours.  Now  I  have  him,  and  I  cannot  tell 
you  how  grateful  I  feel  for  this  happiness ! 

Arturo's  world  too  was  colored  by  his  own  unbelievable  good 
fortune.  To  show  his  gratitude,  as  well  as  to  get  used  to  himself 
in  this  glorified  role,  he  was  glad  to  accompany  Teresita  on  a 
tour  taking  her  to  Finland  and  Russia.  That  was  no  inconsid- 
erable test.  In  addition  to  the  customary  details  that  fall  to  the 
duty  of  a  personal  manager  he  had  to  be  ready  to  soothe,  to 
encourage,  and  to  see  that  hooks  matched  eyes  on  the  intricacies 
of  the  concert  dress.  His  own  nervousness  was  only  exceeded  by 
Teresita's.  In  her  first  concert  she  began  the  "Toccata  and 
Fugue  in  D  minor"  by  Bach  (as  Tausig  fitted  it  to  a  protesting 
piano)  as  if  she  meant  to  break  the  piano  to  pieces,  "like  a 
horse,  who,  frightened  at  something,  suddenly  runs  away,  not 
caring  where  he  is  going,  or  knowing."  From  then  on  she 
played  better  and  better  until  the  last  encore,  her  own  "Ber- 
ceuse," brought  her  a  real  triumph.  Teresita  by  her  beauty  won 
the  hearts  of  all  the  students  in  her  audience.  They  wanted  to 
carry  her  through  the  hall  on  a  chair;  they  covered  her  with 
flowers.  After  such  an  ovation  it  took  all  of  Arturo's  ingenuity 
to  keep  Teresita  to  her  routine  of  practice  and  sleep.  Never  for 
all  the  gold  in  the  world,  said  Arturo,  would  he  accompany 
Teresita  on  tour  again.  He  longed  for  Carreno  and  was  filled 
with  a  wild  jealousy  of  all  who  were  privileged  to  be  near  her. 
She  for  her  part  complains  that  his  letters  are  cold,  that  he  does 
not  share  his  thoughts  with  her,  to  which  Arturo  replies  help- 
lessly: "Povero  me!  I  am  not  a  Petrarch  nor  a  Tasso."  And  he 
wonders  that  she  can  love  a  man  who  has  such  bad  qualities. 

Teresita  returned  and  found  her  mother  ecstatic  over  her 
success  beyond  all  hopes.  Had  she  not  captivated  her  critics  as 
well  as  her  audiences?  Did  she  not  come  back,  wonder  upon 
wonder,  with  an  actual  profit  in  her  pocket  ?  Carreno  allowed 
happiness  to  cloud  judgment.  It  seemed  to  her  that  her  daugh- 
ter must  at  once  conquer  Germany  in  her  own  right.  She  saw 
that  notices  to  that  efTect  were  published  in  the  papers.  Wolff 


29o  TERESA  CARRENO 

put  in  a  deterrent  word,  and  a  friendly  musician  who  heard 
Teresita  in  Helsingfors  gave  voice  to  his  opinion  in  a  letter  he 
chose  to  send  anonymously. 

Your  daughter  has  celebrated  triumphs  here — everybody  allowed  him- 
self to  be  caught  in  the  applause  by  her  extraordinary  gift,  her  tempera- 
ment, and  her  lovable  appearance,  but  everybody  had  to  deplore  that 
these  good  qualities  were  not  blended  with  greater  technical  profi- 
ciency so  that  she  could  stand  out  as  a  fully  ripened  heiress  of  a  cele- 
brated name;  this  is,  in  short,  the  opinion  of  public  criticism  in  every 
city  also.  Gnadige  Frau,  believe  me,  if  your  daughter  now  appears  be- 
fore the  more  satiated  public  and  the  less  considerate  critics  in  Ger- 
many there  will  be  no  end  of  verdicts  which  will  be  painful  to  you  no 
less  than  to  your  daughter.  They  will  not  be  able  to  refrain  from 
showing  their  surprise  that  a  mother-artist  of  your  quality,  who  more 
than  any  other  ever  has  brought  technique  to  artistic  fruition,  has 
failed  to  notice  lacks  in  this  direction  in  her  daughter,  has  let  her 
remain  a  mediocre  dilettante.  You  would  have  to  bear  this  responsi- 
bility before  the  whole  world,  and  shadow  would  fall  upon  your 
own  name,  so  well  known,  so  highly  valued  everywhere,  which  could 
have  been  so  easily  avoided.  I  ask  you  to  examine  the  situation  your- 
self. You  will  certainly  not  say  that  I  am  wrong.  I  would  do  every- 
thing to  spare  you  and  your  young,  inexperienced  daughter  any 
sorrow,  and  I  wish  that  you  might  understand  my  fear,  might  listen 
to  me,  that  you  might  do  as  I  ask :  Do  not  let  any  further  tours  take 
place  at  present,  but  let  Fraulein  Teresita  be  content  until  later  with 
her  success  in  these  places,  and  from  now  on  concentrate  upon  her 
complete  education  in  every  direction.  If  you,  Gnadige  Frau,  do  not 
find  the  time  to  take  her  artistic  development  under  your  own  guid- 
ance, assign  your  daughter  to  a  teacher  of  whom  you  know  that 
he  will  take  charge  of  your  daughter  with  affectionate  interest,  care- 
fully and  without  jealousy,  without  brutality,  and  who  will  in  this 
way  lead  her  to  the  artistic  heights  and  maturity  that  has  and  shall 
set  the  name  Carreno  apart.  Then  you  will  have  full  joy  in  your 
lovable,  highly  talented  child —  Only  a  few  words  more!  I  must 
draw  your  attention  especially  to  good  and  careful  physical  educa- 
tion of  your  growing  daughter,  for  now  she  sits  in  such  a  bent  over 
position  at  the  piano,  that,  if  care  is  not  taken,  she  may  do  harm  to 
her  health  for  the  rest  of  her  life.  Now  I  have  poured  out  my  heart  to 


TERESA  CARRENO  291 

you. — May  you  take  heed  of  my  words.  An  admirer  and  a  man  of 
experience  has  spoken  them,  who  will  always  count  among  his  most 
enjoyable  hours  the  very  beautiful  ones  for  which  he  has  to  thank 
you,  and  who  will  always  follow  with  interest  the  continuation  as 
well  as  the  future  blooming  of  the  Carrefios,  and  who  hopes  that 
this  may  become  ever  more  brilliant  and  glorious. 

For  the  moment  Carreno  did  not  allow  this  sane  counsel  to 
guide  her.  Feverishly  she  wrote  to  everyone  who  might  have 
influence  to  launch  her  daughter  in  a  serious  career.  To  her 
letter  asking  for  a  higher  financial  rating  for  her  own  concerts 
the  imperturbable  Wolff  answered,  bowing  to  the  inevitable : 

Non,  chere  Amie,  j'ai  envie  de  vous — pour  nos  concerts— et  mes 
abonnes  partagent  cette  envie!  Que  faire?  Ce  que  j'aurais  fait  tout 
de  suite,  si  j'avais  su  que  vous  pouviez  etre  si  dure.  Done  entendu, 
tres  chere  amie!  800 — Mais  jurez  sur  ma  tete  depourvue  exterieure- 
ment  de  cheveux,  interieurement  de  cervelle,  que  vous  ne  trahirez 
pas  a  vos  collegues,  que  vous  etes  montee  tant  dans — mon  estime. 
Qu'est-ce  que  vous  jouerez?  Je  vous  serre  votre  main  si  habile  et 
suis  votre  petit  jouet. 

The  winter's  concert  tour  unfolded  in  even  rhythm,  to  Arturo 
who  combined  the  callings  of  secretary,  companion,  and  maid, 
like  a  happy  dream.  Carreno  enjoyed  as  much  as  he  the  hours 
spent  in  a  tailor's  establishment  in  London,  from  which  Arturo 
emerged  equipped  with  everything  necessary  to  play  the  part 
of  the  intended  husband  of  a  Carreno  in  perfect  form.  Each 
city  was  a  new  adventure,  and  who  could  blame  him  for  strut- 
ting a  little,  as  he  began  to  learn  to  take  charge  of  the  endless 
details  involved  in  the  business  of  giving  concerts.  From  school 
Eugenia  writes  with  childish  directness:  "Wie  geht  es  dem  On- 
\el?  1st  der  On\el  schon  Papa?"  Of  music  he  knew  little,  al- 
though he  had  the  instinct  of  every  good  Italian  for  it.  And  by 
dint  of  repetition — Arturo  was  a  good  listener — he  even  devel- 
oped a  critical  sense  of  a  sort.  At  last  Carreno  felt  that  there 
was  someone  at  her  side  to  whom,  with  the  confidence  that  it 
would  be  frankly  answered,  she  could  put  that  question :  "How 


292  TERESA  CARRENO 

did  I  play  last  night?"  She  had  never  traveled  so  smoothly,  so 
gaily.  Troubles  and  problems,  aired  before  an  understanding 
person,  seemed  to  be  already  half  solved.  Most  valuable  of  all 
Arturo  knew  by  intuition  when  to  be  silent,  when  to  disappear. 
So  for  the  usual  fifty  concerts  or  so  through  Germany,  through 
Holland,  through  Germany  again,  through  England,  Scotland, 
and  back  again  to  Germany  with  a  touch  of  Poland,  Carreno 
played  her  way  in  a  radiant  haze  that  gave  a  delicious  aura  to 
her  concerts. 

The  climax  of  the  tour  was  one  devoted  to  compositions  by 
Grieg  with  the  master  himself  presiding  over  the  "Grieg  Con- 
certo" in  Warsaw.  For  him  too  it  was  a  state  occasion.  He  wrote 
on  the  first  of  April: 

Highly  esteemed  Madame  Carreno: — The  news  that  you  will  once 
again  do  me  the  honor  to  play  my  A  minor  Concerto  under  my  di- 
rection gave  me  colossal  joy.  But  on  the  program  stands  besides  the 
piano  concerto  my  Ballade  in  G  minor  {op.  24).  Should  you,  however, 
which  is  very  probable,  neither  know  nor  play  this  long  and  com- 
plicated piece,  I  will  of  course  gladly  do  without  it,  but  in  that  case 
I  hope  that  you  will  be  so  kind  as  to  suggest  instead  some  of  my 
piano  pieces  which  you  may  already  have  embodied  in  your  reper- 
toire. I  shall  be  grateful  for  a  speedy  and  decisive  reply.  My  wife  is 
heartily  anticipating  seeing  and  hearing  you  again,  as  does  your  old 
admirer 

Edvard  Grieg. 

On  the  tenth  he  acknowledged  her  reply: 

My  hearty  thanks!  With  the  three  pieces  "Aus  dem  Volksleben" 
I  am  entirely  in  accord. 

You  call  this  concert  a  festival.  Yes,  when  you  take  part  in  it 
and  especially  if  you  play  the  Concerto  as  superbly  as  you  did  in 
Kopenhagen — (do  you  see  how  infamous  I  am!) — then  at  any  rate 
it  becomes  a  festival! 

Meanwhile  the  formidable  array  of  documents  required  for 
marriage  in  Germany  was  collecting  upon  Carreno's  desk,  and 
the  wedding  day  could  finally  be  set  for  June  30,  1902.  Teresita 


1902 


Arturo  Tagliapietra  and  Teresa  Carreno 


TERESA  CARRENO  293 

and  Giovanni  attended  the  simple  ceremony.  An  elaborate  din- 
ner at  which  champagne  flowed  generously  was  shared  by  a 
small  circle  of  friends  in  the  dining  room  of  Kurfurstendamm 
28.  It  was  natural  that  Italy  should  be  the  destination  for  their 
wedding  journey.  In  Tavernola  by  the  cool  waters  of  the  lake 
of  Iseo  they  took  a  house,  where  later  the  family  joined  them. 
Teresa  Carreno  was  once  more  Teresa  Carreno  Tagliapietra. 


PART  IV 


VISTA 


(/  j  012) 

Ju.  a£&>i  (ityfcdeA  fte>44<u«kj  u^(/k/tj  /iu  a/ZT 


TEN  years  passed.  It  was  the  evening  of  November  21, 
1912,  half  a  century  since  a  tiny  prodigy  had  promised, 
not  knowing  what  it  meant,  "I  shall  be  an  artist  all  my 
life";  twenty  three  years  since  a  Venezuelan  amazon  had  first 
flooded  a  Germany  grown  cold  and  conventional  with  the  sun- 
shine of  a  new  spontaneity  in  music.  Today  she  stood  unrivaled, 
the  empress  of  pianists. 

In  the  foyer  of  the  grand  banquet  hall  of  the  Kaiserhof  in 
Berlin  more  than  two  hundred  associates  and  friends  were  as- 
sembled to  do  Teresa  Carreno  honor.  They  had  answered  the 
call  of  Artur  Nikisch  and  his  committee  to  celebrate  her  golden 
anniversary  as  an  artist.  The  atmosphere  was  vibrant.  The  oc- 
casion was  one  to  evoke  high  enthusiasm  and  most  gay  attire, 
most  precious  jewels. 

Impatiently  attention  wandered  from  neighbor  to  neighbor, 
finally  centering  in  the  empty  arch  through  which  Carreno 
must  enter.  At  last  by  common  instinct  came  a  hush,  then  a 
wild  welcoming  wave  of  applause.  Teresa  Carreno,  more 
straight,  more  regal  than  ever  was  making  her  way  along  the 
improvised  aisle  on  the  arm  of  Arturo  Tagliapietra  who, 
flushed  and  uncomfortable,  passed  stiffly  by  her  side.  Ten  years 
had  made  little  outward  difference  in  Carreno's  appearance. 
Her  hair,  still  shading  from  coal  to  snow,  followed  its  former 
impulsive  curves,  framing  as  becomingly  as  ever  a  profile  as 
finely  sculptured  as  before.  Her  eyes  held  the  wisdom  that  time 
and  suffering  bring  and  glowed  with  the  light  of  old,  generated 
within.  In  her  dress  of  silvery  blue  silk  she  moved  slowly  to  the 
ballroom. 

At  the  center  of  the  long  table,  raised  to  dominate  the  hall, 
Carreno  and  her  suffering  husband  sat  enthroned  with  Hertha 
and  Eugenia  their  unwilling  neighbors.  Had  they  been  con- 
sulted the  daughters  would  have  chosen  to  sit  more  humbly 
among  their  contemporaries.  Eugenia  nervously  wondered  what 
she  could  find  to  say  to  the  pale  young  man  at  her  right,  what 
language  she  should  use.  It  did  not  help  matters  when  she  dis- 


298  TERESA  CARRENO 

covered  that  he  was  the  Ambassador  from  Venezuela,  and  that 
the  speech  he  was  to  give  made  him  momentarily  an  unrespon- 
sive companion.  Hertha  was  equally  at  a  loss.  At  her  left  pre- 
sided the  Wagnerian  soprano,  Lilli  Lehmann,  so  like  her 
mother  in  style  and  appearance.  Yet  glacier  and  geyser  were 
not  more  opposite  than  they.  All  at  once  Eugenia  and  Hertha 
pricked  up  their  ears.  Somewhere  out  of  sight  an  orchestra  was 
tuning.  Dinner  music  would  make  the  evening  pass  less  tedi- 
ously. Up  went  their  spirits  only  to  fall  with  sickening  speed  at 
the  loud,  unanimous  "sch"  that  after  the  first  phrase  reduced 
the  discouraged  players  to  silence.  They  were  not  impressed  by 
the  fact  that  gathered  here  was  a  representative  cross  section  of 
musical  Germany,  including  famous  artists,  delegates  from  ex- 
clusive organizations,  and  those  who,  be  it  artistically  or  com- 
mercially, were  responsible  for  the  smooth  running  of  the  con- 
cert mechanism.  At  Carreno's  table  sat  Christian  Sinding,  some 
of  whose  compositions  were  a  part  of  Carreno's  standing  reper- 
toire and  next  to  Sinding's  wife  Emil  Paur,  under  whose  baton 
Carreno  had  often  played  concertos,  among  them  his  own. 

And  there  near  the  end  of  the  important  table  was  "dear 
Louise."  Before  her  eyes  too  there  must  be  passing,  headed  by 
the  genial  Hermann,  a  procession  of  those  of  another  day,  who 
should  have  graced  this  occasion  by  privilege  of  friendship  and 
distinction:  Edvard  Grieg,  Johannes  Brahms,  Hans  von  Biilow, 
Anton  Rubinstein!  How  she  missed  them,  all  those  who  had 
helped  to  crystallize  her  standards.  As  she  caught  the  eye  of 
Louise  Wolff  Carreno  raised  her  glass  in  a  message  they  both 
understood. 

All  at  once  Lilli  Lehmann  was  the  focus  of  attention  as  she 
rose  from  her  chair.  With  a  gesture  worthy  of  an  Isolde  she 
drank  a  toast  to  her  sister  Walkiire  and  to  their  future  "Bruder- 
schaft"  (brotherhood),  a  rite  by  virtue  of  which  the  brilliant 
butterfly  of  the  Andes  and  the  great  silver  moth  of  Nordic 
moonlight  authorized  each  other  to  use  the  intimate  "Du," 
which  to  a  German  is  the  open  sesame  to  his  most  sacred  loy- 
alties. 


TERESA  CARRENO  299 

The  endless  reading  of  telegrams  from  fellow  musicians, 
from  friends  of  many  lands,  from  royalty  as  from  former 
servants  filled  the  intermission  between  courses.  There  were 
speeches  yet  to  follow,  a  poem  by  the  brother  of  Maurice  Mosz- 
kowski,  the  more  literary  if  not  more  witty  Alexander,  in 
which  he  welcomed  Teresa  as  tenth  to  the  company  of  the  nine 
Muses.  The  hour  grew  late.  As  the  master  of  ceremonies  pre- 
sented Dr.  Santos  Dominici,  Carreno's  compatriot,  the  audience 
seemed  little  inclined  to  give  him  ear.  Only  diplomatic  tact  and 
a  vital  interest  in  his  subject  saved  the  day.  Lyrically,  intimately 
he  carried  his  listeners  back  to  the  Venezuela  of  Carreno's  child- 
hood, tried  to  make  it  vivid  to  them  as  it  meant  home  to  him. 
Carreno  leaned  forward  captivated.  His  touching  picture  of  the 
background  against  which  her  genius  had  flowered  so  pre- 
maturely was  holding  enthralled  a  company  surfeited  and  fa- 
tigued by  a  banquet  that  had  lasted  too  long.  No  one  was  more 
profoundly  stirred  than  Carreno  herself.  Forgetting  that  it  was 
of  her  the  Envoy  was  speaking  she  joined  in  the  applause  as 
enthusiastically  as  the  rest. 

In  climax  Carreno  rose  among  her  flowers  to  thank  her  com- 
posite host.  Spanish-American  German  never  rang  out  more 
clearly.  "You  know  that  I  do  not  speak  good  German,  but  one 
language  we  all  speak,  that  is  the  language  of  the  heart,"  she 
began.  Movingly  she  paid  her  debt  of  gratitude  in  words  that 
caused  her  more  nervousness  in  the  speaking  than  a  whole  win- 
ter full  of  concerts. 

Eugenia  and  Hertha  sighed  with  relief.  Even  Arturo  unbent. 
That  patient  look  of  proud  embarrassment  had  not  once  left 
his  face.  Did  anyone  realize  how  difficult  it  was  to  be  the  hus- 
band of  a  Carreno,  he  wondered.  After  an  endless  reception  in 
the  foyer  Carreno  could  at  last  return  from  her  golden  jubilee 
to  the  place  that  Arturo  had  made  home,  and  to  the  game  of 
solitaire  which  alone  could  induce  a  restful  night. 


Carreno  awoke  in  a  mood  of  depression  to  a  world  steeped  in 
gloom.  Buffeted  by  winds  sometimes  too  strong  for  her  steady 
feet  she  stood  alone  on  the  heights.  Looking  far  down  into  the 
misty  distance  from  which  she  had  ascended  she  examined  once 
more  the  ledges  which  had  nearly  spelled  disaster  in  the  climb- 
ing. What  more  was  there  left  to  live  for,  what  greater  summits 
for  her  to  scale?  Looking  ahead  she  saw  a  level  road,  curving 
gradually  downward  in  the  distance.  The  prospect  was  dull, 
tame,  uninviting.  Yet  she  had  ample  cause  to  go  on,  for  Arturo's 
sake,  for  her  children  who,  one  and  all,  still  leaned  upon  her 
for  support.  Until  Hertha  and  Eugenia  were  safely  married  or 
established  in  productive  careers  she  must  keep  on  "with  the 
dear  Father's  help.'' 

Ten  years  of  matrimony  stretched  behind  Carreno  like  many- 
colored  streamers  from  a  maypole,  each  ribbon  representing  a 
life  close  to  hers.  Woven  together  in  haphazard  pattern  they 
made  up  her  own  much  more  truly  than  the  events  that  shaped 
it.  Negligible  in  comparison  was  the  round  of  concert  giving  that 
each  year  for  fifty  years  had  turned  like  a  phonograph  record, 
stopping  only  when  the  season  ran  down.  That  everlasting 
sameness  of  enforced  variety  which  others  might  stupidly  envy 
was  becoming  more  and  more  irksome.  Her  own  inner  tempo 
was  slowing  down,  she  felt,  to  a  congenial  andante.  Yet  out- 
wardly she  must  not  fail,  as  she  never  had  failed,  until  the  last 
note.  What  if  she  did  draw  upon  her  reserve  capital  of  strength, 
there  would  yet  be  enough  in  her  store  to  last  as  long  as  needed. 

From  1902  to  1912  the  graph  of  Carreno' s  concerts  still  shows, 
with  pockets  here  and  there,  a  gentle  trend  upward.  The  death 
of  Hermann  Wolff  in  1901,  a  heavy  personal  blow,  created  new 
problems.  Of  the  managers  who  were  tried  and  found  wanting 
in  one  vital  respect  or  another,  there  was  none  she  could  so 
entirely  respect,  none  with  whom  she  could  laugh  so  merrily 
in  the  midst  of  a  quarrel  both  enjoyed  as  a  sport  because  they 
were  so  evenly  matched.  The  season  of  1902-3  had  been  the 
leanest  of  all  in  the  German  period.  It  added  up  to  twenty-seven 
engagements  only,  the  customary  average  being  twice  that.  Car- 


Wal\iire 


TERESA  CARRENO  301 

reno  lost  no  time  in  advising  Hcrr  Fernow,  now  in  charge  of 
the  "Konzertdirektion  Wolff"  in  a  letter  that  was  politely  to 
the  point,  that,  unless  he  found  more  time  to  devote  to  her 
interests,  she  would  be  obliged  to  relieve  him  of  his  duties  as  her 
agent.  Herr  Fernow  heeded  the  warning,  for  the  year  follow- 
ing was  a  banner  one. 

In  the  spring  of  1903  Carreno  yielded  to  an  urge  of  long 
standing  to  visit  her  Mother  Country  Spain,  where  piano  re- 
citals were  the  exception.  Her  local  manager  was  somewhat 
worried  about  the  outcome  of  his  enterprise,  and  as  a  concession 
to  Spanish  taste  proposed  programs  of  lighter  character  than 
those  usually  chosen  by  Carreno  for  her  concerts  in  Germany. 
With  categorical  directness  Carreno  replied: 

The  artist  who  presents  himself  for  the  first  time  in  a  country 
ought,  before  everything,  to  show  what  he  can  do  with  the  repertoire 
that  makes  him  best  understood  by  his  public,  and  so  should  try 
to  gain  its  approval  not  for  what  he  plays,  but  for  how  he  plays. 
That  is  my  case,  and  thus  I  shall  be  obliged  to  proceed  with  Bar- 
celona and  the  other  places  in  Spain  where  I  shall  have  the  honor 
of  presenting  myself  just  as  in  London,  Paris,  etc.,  and  if  the  audience 
is  not  content,  it  will  be  my  fault  and  not  that  of  my  programs.  One 
can  never  hear  too  much  of  the  good  and  great  works  of  art,  and 
however  much  one  hears  an  A  flat  Polonaise  of  Chopin,  one  cannot 
cease  admiring  it.  So  my  good  friend,  Barcelona  will  have  to  bear 
with  my  programs  as  they  are! 

And  that  city  as  well  as  others  did  so  without  a  murmur  of 
complaint.  Lisbon,  for  instance,  was  moved  to  a  frenzy  of  ex- 
citement. Ladies  threw  upon  the  stage  the  flowers  they  wore. 
Carreno  played  enough  encores  to  fill  another  entire  program, 
among  them  her  own  "Danza  Venezolana."  She  returned  with 
another  triumph  and  12,000  francs  to  her  credit,  quite  ready 
for  a  summer  on  the  island  of  Wyk,  where  she  once  again 
proved  to  herself  that  it  was  the  mountains  she  really  pre- 
ferred. Here  she  prepared  the  "D  minor  Concerto"  of  Brahms 
for  public  performance,  perhaps  in  answer  to  the  demand  made 
public  by  certain  critics  that  she  enrich  her  programs  with 


302  TERESA  CARRENO 

new  works.  For  some  unexplained  reason  it  soon  disappeared 
from  the  list.  It  may  be  that  Carreno  shared  von  Biilow's  point 
of  view.  Approached  by  a  reporter,  who  wished  to  know  what 
changes  he  would  make  in  the  repertoire  of  an  orchestra  he 
had  been  appointed  to  conduct,  he  answered:  "Gentlemen,  we 
shall  play  the  same  music,  but  we  shall  try  to  play  it  better."  Or, 
more  probably,  time  and  health  forbade  that  she  spend  all  of 
each  summer  increasing  her  repertoire.  Carreno  did  make  a 
point  of  bringing  something  new  on  the  programs  of  the  first 
of  her  yearly  Berlin  recitals,  and  on  occasion  a  work  of  small  or 
large  dimension  by  a  minor  prophet  gave  encouragement  and 
prestige  to  the  author  she  sponsored,  Poldini,  Cowen,  Mrs. 
Beach,  and  even  Max  Reger  in  his  "salad  days"  among  them. 
Her  own  words  are  applicable  here.  Audiences  continued  to 
swarm  to  hear  her,  not  for  what  she  did  as  much  as  for  how 
she  did  it.  She  drew  them  more  magnetically  than  ever.  There 
were  more  fees  in  the  1,000  m.  class,  less  in  the  400  m.  brackets 
to  be  entered  in  the  book  of  accounts  kept  by  Arturo  with  such 
painstaking  accuracy  and  neatness  that  it  became  one  of  the 
family  jokes. 

Carreno's  relations  with  her  managers  had  always  been  based 
upon  the  best  mutual  interest.  It  was  not  in  her  to  accept  an 
engagement  at  so  high  a  figure  that  in  her  judgment  it  pre- 
cluded the  making  of  expenses  on  the  part  of  the  impresario. 
On  one  occasion  she  refused  an  engagement  in  Leipzig  at  an 
enormous  figure  giving  as  her  reason:  "Since  I  have  never  pre- 
viously been  able  to  earn  the  sum  that  Mr.  Eulenburg  offers  me 
for  three  recitals  in  Leipzig,  that  would  be  a  loss  for  him  which 
I  cannot  permit.  That  feeling  would  be  intolerable  to  me." 

Neither  would  she  be  railroaded  into  making  compromises 
of  which  she  disapproved,  although  they  might  possibly  be  of 
practical  advantage.  So  in  a  letter  to  Mr.  Adams,  who  advised 
a  placating  attitude  toward  a  gentleman  believing  himself  en- 
titled to  a  commission  on  one  of  her  concert  tours,  she  wrote : 

As  to  the  matter  of  Mr.  C,  I  am  sorry  to  say  I  cannot  accept  an 
amicable  settlement  of  it,  as  Mr.  C.'s  letters  are  absolutely  of  such 
an  offensive  character  that  it  is  impossible  for  me  to  accept  any  visit 


TERESA  CARRENO  303 

from  him.  He  has  no  more  and  no  less  than  called  me  a  liar  in  his 
last  letter,  and  I  do  not  allow  any  living  being  to  tax  me  of  untruth 
unpunished.  Kind  as  your  advice  is  in  regard  to  the  matter  between 
Mr.  C.  and  myself,  and  much  as  I  agree  with  what  you  write  that 
"it  is  much  easier  to  make  an  enemy  than  a  friend,"  I  am  of  the 
opinion  (and  always  have  been)  that  a  friendship  which  one  has  to 
pay  for  is  not  worth  keeping. 

For  five  consecutive  years  after  her  marriage  Carreno  made  Eu- 
ropean countries  her  territory,  as  much  for  the  sake  of  her  chil- 
dren as  to  let  the  notoriety  of  which  she  was  the  object  because 
of  her  fourth  marriage  quiet  down.  Not  until  the  spring  of  1907 
did  she  leave  this  well-combed  area.  However,  rumors  had  per- 
sistently reached  her  of  untold  riches  waiting  to  fall  into  the 
lap  of  musicians  adventurous  enough  to  gather  them  in  Aus- 
tralia and  New  Zealand.  To  prove  this  Paderewski's  bewilder- 
ing success  was  cited.  Benno  Scherek,  as  good  a  pianist  as  he 
was  an  impresario,  offered  himself  as  representative  for  the 
tour.  Arturo  was  more  than  ready  to  be  an  even  more  personal 
one.  For  him  the  joys  of  travel  could  never  reach  the  saturation 
point.  There  were  other  angles  in  favor  of  such  a  voyage.  It 
would  be  of  benefit  to  Teresita,  and  Carreno  herself  would  be 
relieved  to  have  her  younger  daughters  safely  out  of  reach  of 
their  father. 

Definite  plans  were  accordingly  made.  Carreno  found  a  gov- 
erness trustworthy  and  young  enough  to  be  a  companion  for 
the  two  adolescents.  Eugenia  and  Hertha  welcomed  the  change 
from  the  discipline  of  school  to  the  leisurely  pleasures  of  a  first 
sea  voyage.  Fearing  that  d' Albert  might  take  steps  to  prevent 
the  departure  of  his  children  preparations  were  made  with  all 
secrecy.  It  seemed  safer  for  that  reason  to  embark  at  Naples. 
Hardly  had  they  arrived  at  this  port,  when  they  heard  to  their 
dismay  that  d' Albert  had  taken  rooms  in  a  neighboring  hotel. 
Carreno  was  in  a  panic.  Instead  of  being  allowed  to  see  the 
sights  of  the  city,  the  children  were  kept  indoors.  Meals  were 
served  in  private.  Then  hastily  one  dark  night  Carreno  with 
her  retinue  of  family  and  of  trunks  and  bags  boarded  the  wait- 
ing Oruba.  Not  until  the  ship  was  safely  out  of  harbor  could 


304  TERESA  CARRENO 

she  bring  herself  to  laugh  at  the  danger  they  had  circumvented. 
It  did  not  occur  to  her  that,  as  it  actually  turned  out  to  be,  d' Al- 
bert might  have  been  totally  unaware  of  their  plans  as  of  their 
presence... 

Arrived  in  Melbourne  after  a  voyage  that  was  restful  even  for 
as  poor  a  sailor  as  Carreno,  the  tour  unwound  itself  in  general 
much  like  any  other,  except  that  the  coming  of  a  great  artist 
was  much  more  of  an  event  in  Australia  than  in  Europe.  Five 
concerts  in  each  of  the  larger  cities  became  the  rule.  Carreno 
strained  her  memory  to  resurrect  from  the  long  ago  composi- 
tions she  had  outgrown.  Gottschalk,  Vogrich,  even  her  own 
"Revue  a  Prague"  once  more  showed  their  heads  sheepishly 
above  the  surface. 

There  was  another  difficulty.  The  islands  could  boast  of  but 
few  orchestras  worthy  of  accompanying  a  Carreno.  A  whole 
repertoire  of  concerti  would  have  been  lying  useless  had  it  not 
been  for  Carreno's  resourcefulness.  She  decided  to  incorporate 
one  in  each  of  her  recital  programs,  enlisting  the  versatile 
Scherek  to  substitute  for  the  orchestra  at  a  second  piano.  It  was 
a  happy  solution.  A  concerto  in  any  form  was  a  novelty  in  most 
of  the  smaller  places,  and  in  spite  of  tropical  downpours  and 
intense  heat  the  concert  halls  were  always  well  filled. 

There  was  only  one  mishap  to  record.  During  the  second 
Melbourne  concert  a  slight  injury  to  the  little  finger  of  the 
right  hand  became  increasingly  painful  to  Carreno  during  the 
course  of  the  evening.  An  infection  set  in,  and  only  the  utmost 
stoicism  enabled  her  to  finish  a  program  whose  every  chord 
spelled  torture.  Her  doctor  advised  that  the  finger  be  lanced. 
"Go  ahead,"  said  the  Spartan,  proceeding  to  entertain  the  sur- 
geon with  her  most  witty  stories,  and  while  he  operated  upon 
the  precious  member,  she  wiped  of?  the  beads  of  perspiration 
rolling  down  his  face. 

Australian  society  took  Carreno  to  its  bosom.  It  had  not 
known  that  a  great  artist  could  be  so  unaffected,  so  approach- 
able. A  little  mixed  in  geography,  it  found  "no  frill,  no  fuss 
about  this  Sicilian  lady."  If  she  chose  to  wear  an  elaborate  robe 


TERESA  CARRENO  305 

en  train  of  black  velvet  embroidered  in  gold  for  a  matinee  con- 
cert, that,  all  agreed,  was  her  affair.  It  was  hard  to  make  time 
for  all  the  interviews  and  auditions  that  Carreno  granted  and 
Arturo  knew  how  to  cut  short  at  the  right  moment  by  entering 
the  room  on  one  pretext  or  another.  The  necessary  hours  of 
practice  with  Scherek  were  frequently  interrupted  by  aristo- 
cratic callers,  by  the  autograph  seekers  whom  Carreno  seldom 
denied,  and  by  reporters  who  wanted  to  know  whether  she  was 
to  wear  her  frock  of  gray  satin  with  slashed  elbow  sleeves  of 
chiffon,  or  her  favorite  one  of  black  tulle  covered  with  blue- 
green  paillettes,  among  which  seed  pearls  meandered  in  deli- 
cate tracery,  the  whole  over  mermaid-green  silk  veiled  by  white 
chiffon. 

No  detail  of  this  artist's  life  was  too  insignificant  to  appear  in 
print.  Carreno  was  bombarded  with  invitations,  only  a  few  of 
which  she  accepted,  and  never  without  consulting  her  manager 
who  knew  his  Australia.  One  morning  she  found  herself  receiv- 
ing in  the  alien  setting  of  the  Ladies'  Patriotic  Club  of  Sydney. 
Holding  a  bouquet  of  orchids  tied  with  the  red  and  yellow  of 
Spain  which  her  hostesses  deemed  appropriate,  she  stood  for 
hours  before  the  huge  bare  fireplace,  into  which  the  throng 
threatened  to  push  her.  They  made  a  wall  through  which  only 
the  most  aggressive  could  make  their  way.  Local  talent  lent  its 
indifferent  gifts  to  compositions  by  Chopin  and  Moszkowski  that 
fortunately  could  only  faintly  penetrate  the  incessant  buzz  of 
conversation,  of  which  anything  from  politics  to  corsets  was  the 
topic.  At  last  this  function  too  was  over,  a  tribute  to  the  cause 
if  only  another  chore  to  the  guest  of  honor,  and  Carreno  could 
enjoy  in  more  congenial  and  cool  company  a  launch  luncheon 
along  the  coast  line  of  the  harbor. 

Quite  different  was  an  entertainment  offered  Carreno  and 
Arturo  by  Maggie  and  Bella  Papakura  in  Rotorua,  New  Zea- 
land. The  two  sisters  could  be  counted  upon  to  provide  a  good 
show.  Beginning  with  the  poi  dancers  and  ending  with  cho- 
ruses by  the  children  of  the  native  school  there  was  not  a  dull 
moment.  In  the  bare  and  dusky  hall  of  Whakarewarewa  the 


306  TERESA  CARRENO 

natives  had  gathered  on  one  side,  the  foreigners  or  pahe\a  dis- 
tinguished by  an  invitation  at  the  other.  Meta  Tawpopoki,  a 
chief  of  the  Arawas,  gave  the  address  of  welcome  in  flowery 
Maori  language.  The  translation  of  the  Rev.  F.  A.  Bennett 
made  the  musical  words  intelligible  to  the  guests.  In  conclusion 
the  chief  asked  Carreno  to  show  her  pahe\a  accomplishments 
as  his  people  had  shown  theirs.  A  second  chief  voiced  the  same 
wish  on  the  part  of  his  numerous  progeny  huddled  in  a  wrig- 
gling group  upon  the  floor,  "that  they  might  also  sometime  be- 
come learned  in  the  pahe\a  art."  He  then  called  upon  the 
young  men  standing  along  the  wall  to  join  with  him  in  a  dance 
in  celebration  of  this  their  noted  guest.  Discarding  first  his 
coat  and  then  even  his  shirt  he  urged  them  on,  while  the  na- 
tives clapped  and  cheered  in  rhythm,  and  Carreno  joined  in  as 
if  she  were  one  of  them.  Then,  not  to  be  outdone  by  her  hosts, 
she  walked  to  the  piano  so  strangely  out  of  place  in  this  setting 
and  began  to  play,  while  the  exhausted  old  chief  still  lay  pant- 
ing in  the  middle  of  the  floor.  She  played  on  and  on,  not  with 
perfunctory  politeness,  but  with  the  thrilling  realization  that 
she  and  her  native  friends  after  all  spoke  and  understood  a 
common  language  in  music  and  the  dance.  It  was  late  in  the 
night  when  Carreno  and  Arturo,  laden  with  native  treasures  and 
blessings,  took  their  departure. 

Carreno  chose  to  consider  this  trip  to  a  new  land  a  kind  of 
vacation  before  the  really  serious  business  of  the  eighty  con- 
certs booked  for  her  in  the  United  States  by  R.  E.  Johnston  and 
the  John  Church  Company.  This  strenuous  holiday  was  com- 
plicated on  the  return  trip  by  the  fact  that  Eugenia  fell  ill  on 
the  steamer  with  a  case  of  intermittent  fever  about  which  the 
ship's  doctor  seemed  able  to  do  nothing.  Tired  from  nights  of 
sleeplessness  and  in  fear  of  losing  her  child  she  interrupted  the 
journey  in  the  Fiji  Islands.  As  soon  as  it  was  known  that  a 
renowned  pianist  had  reached  Suva,  petitions  begging  for  a 
concert  came  in  such  number  that  it  seemed  expedient  to  ar- 
range for  one.  There  was  only  one  piano  worthy  of  the  name 
and  that  was  woefully  off  pitch.  No  tuner  was  in  sight,  but 


Teresa  Carreno  Tagliapietra 


TERESA  CARRENO  307 

what  did  that  matter!  Carreno  quite  enjoyed  the  morning  that 
she  spent  putting  the  instrument  into  passable  shape  with  a  pair 
of  pliers.  The  concert  was  a  triumph,  and  in  a  surprisingly 
short  time,  thanks  to  good  medical  attention  and  the  doglike 
devotion  of  a  native  who  camped  on  the  mat  before  her  door, 
Eugenia  recovered  in  time  for  the  next  boat,  the  last  possible 
one  which  would  bring  them  to  America  for  Carreno's  first 
engagement.  Three  days  after  her  arrival  in  Chicago  Carreno, 
who  had  not  really  practiced  for  months,  and  had  contracted 
to  play  the  Everett,  a  piano  unfamiliar  to  her,  celebrated  an- 
other signal  triumph  in  Orchestra  Hall. 

One  cloud  hung  low  in  Carreno's  sky,  as  in  1907  it  darkened 
the  horizon  of  all  musical  America.  It  was  the  tragedy  of  the 
slow,  irrevocable  fading  of  Edward  MacDowell,  the  lovable 
friend  and  pupil  of  Carreno's  youth,  the  respected  colleague  of 
her  wiser  years,  the  first  American  to  be  admitted  to  German 
programs  on  equal  terms  with  its  own  composers,  the  one  be- 
fore all  others  who  had  given  dignity  to  the  profession  of  music 
in  the  United  States  by  earning  for  it  full  academic  recognition 
as  a  subject  worthy  of  higher  study  like  any  other  on  the 
University  curriculum!  Carreno  saw  Edward  for  a  last  time 
during  the  Christmas  holidays  in  New  York.  He  was  apa- 
thetically playing  with  his  toys.  Once  she  caught  his  eye,  shin- 
ing with  the  momentary  gladness  of  recognition,  then  return- 
ing almost  instantaneously  to  the  dullness  of  inner  withdrawal. 
Shortly  after  this  visit  she  was  playing  the  MacDowell  "Con- 
certo" with  the  Boston  Symphony  Orchestra.  Still  with  the 
pathos  of  this  meeting  in  mind  she  suddenly  forgot  what  she 
was  supposed  to  be  playing  and  floundered  noticeably  before 
finding  her  way,  a  rare  happening  indeed. 

That  Edward,  too,  fitfully  remembered  is  shown  in  a  letter 
penned  by  Marian  MacDowell,  Edward's  wife,  who  wrote  to 
Carreno  in  December: 

I  am  sitting  beside  Edward,  and  I  said  to  him  a  minute  ago,  "I  am 
writing  to  Teresita,  shall  I  send  her  your  love?"  His  face  brightened 
as  it  had  not  all  day,  and  he  said  "Yes."  A  few  memories  remain 


308  TERESA  CARRENO 

with  him,  and  you  are  one  of  them —  It  is  all  misty  but  I  know  you 
will  be  touched  when  I  tell  you  the  only  name  he  ever  calls  me  by 
save  my  own  is  Teresita!  In  the  summer  half  the  time  he  used  that 
name  for  me — he  said  so  little  in  the  old  days — but  quite  aside  from 
his  affection,  he  never  forgot  how  loyally  you  helped  him  and  how 
much  he  owed  you. 

After  the  final  catastrophe,  less  sad  than  the  living  death 
preceding  it,  Carreno  more  ardently  than  ever  put  herself  at 
the  service  of  MacDowell's  compositions.  No  longer,  as  Marian 
MacDowell  wrote  in  an  earlier  year,  was  she  "the  only  great 
artist  who  has  had  the  courage  and  the  will  to  actually  play 
his  music"  but  it  was  she  who  was  fittingly  chosen  to  play  his 
"Second  Concerto,"  so  particularly  hers  as  well,  in  the  great 
Memorial  Concert  in  New  York  on  March  31,  1908.  From  now 
on  the  "Keltic  Sonata"  and  later  the  "Tragica,"  too,  were  fre- 
quently heard  in  her  concerts. 

Carreno  was  traveling  in  the  West  at  the  time  of  the  funeral. 
She  felt  driven  by  her  so  readily  overflowing  sympathy  to  do 
something  for  the  comfort  of  Edward  MacDowell's  parents 
and  hit  upon  what  she  thought  was  a  perfect  plan.  Arturo  took 
a  strong  stand  against  it,  eventually  converting  her  to  his  way 
of  thinking.  He  reminded  her  that  what  she  needed  rather  than 
a  summer  of  sight-seeing  in  Italy  with  the  Thomas  MacDowells 
as  her  guests — after  a  long  series  of  concerts  at  $400  each  she 
could  afford  such  a  luxury — was  a  period  of  complete  rest  in 
preparation  for  a  season  that  promised  to  be  doubly  strenuous 
after  long  absence  from  Germany.  It  was  vital  that  she  come 
back  to  her  adopted  country  with  her  powers  unimpaired. 
Arturo  was  perfectly  right.  The  question  was  closed. 

When  later  in  March  Carreno  returned  to  New  York,  the 
first  one  to  greet  her  as  she  stepped  from  her  carriage  at  the 
door  of  the  Netherland  was  Mrs.  MacDowell.  With  a  fresh 
surge  of  pity,  Carreno  impulsively  poured  out  her  plan  for  the 
very  trip  she  had  so  definitely  given  up,  not  only  asking  the 
MacDowells  but  their  grandson,  and  Juan  Buitrago,  to  accom- 


TERESA  CARRENO  309 

pany  them,  all  as  her  guests.  The  dazed  Arturo  stood  help- 
lessly by. 

Two  people  ill  with  sorrow  were  not  calculated  to  affect  heal- 
ingly  nerves  that  were  raw  after  seventeen  months  of  almost 
continuous  concertizing.  The  trip  was  not  the  success  it  was 
meant  to  be.  The  MacDowells  found  that  the  comforts  of 
Italian  hotels  compared  unfavorably  with  those  to  be  had  in 
their  own  four  walls.  Carreno,  disappointed  that  drives  and  her 
favorite  museums  could  not  cure  her  friends  of  homesickness, 
at  last  left  them  under  the  care  of  Arturo,  while  she  withdrew 
to  the  simple  Hotel  Panorama  high  above  the  little  town  of 
Oberstdorf  in  Upper  Bavaria. 

Here  she  found  in  the  proprietor,  the  jovial  Herr  Theater- 
direktor  Grassl,  a  man  who  could  make  her  laugh  without  half 
trying.  Her  room  had  an  exquisite  view  of  snow-covered  moun- 
tains in  a  chain.  Every  night  as  she  mounted  the  stairs,  bran- 
dishing her  long  gaslighter  and  singing  Brunnhilde's  Ho-jo- 
to-ho,  she  knew  that  she  might  count  upon  a  restful  night.  In 
a  tiny  house  near-by  stood  her  piano.  She  spent  all  of  every 
morning  in  undisturbed  practice. 

Carrefio  and  Mrs.  Watson  conceived  the  idea  in  almost  tele- 
pathic coincidence  not  uncommon  between  them,  that  the  elder 
MacDowells,  the  Watsons,  and  the  Tagliapietras  should  spend 
the  following  summer  together  in  the  Catskills.  This  was  not 
to  be.  The  death  of  Mrs.  MacDowell  cut  the  knot  life  could  not 
loosen.  Carreno  wrote  to  their  common  friend  Adelaide  Okell : 

In  my  heart,  in  my  mind  she  lives  and  will  live  as  long  as  I  live.  As 
she  believed  so  thoroughly  in  an  after  life,  I  feel  as  if  she  really  were 
around  me  and  her  beloved  spirit  near  me,  and  that  she  knows  now, 
better  than  when  she  was  living,  how  deeply  and  tenderly  I  have 
loved  her  in  the  twenty-six  years  of  our  friendship. 

Overwork,  worry,  and  sorrow  undermined  Carreno's  vigor, 
like  termites  gnawing  at  the  beams  that  support  a  well-built 
house.  She  was  obliged  to  seek  the  health-giving  waters  of  Bad 


3io  TERESA  CARRENO 

Gastein,  where  she  became  a  noticeable  figure.  Even  those  who 
failed  to  recognize  her  knew  that  only  a  celebrity  would  walk 
so  proudly,  so  indifferently  in  stout  boots,  a  high-necked  white 
shirtwaist,  and  the  same  old  skirt  she  loved  the  better  for  every 
added  cigarette  hole  which  punctured  it.  The  broad  brim  of  a 
finely  woven  Panama  encircled  by  a  plain  black  band  shaded 
her  face  as  she  strode  down  the  street  among  more  worldly 
minded  mortals,  rhythmically  swinging  her  cane.  People  re- 
marked to  each  other  as  she  passed:  Could  this  stocky,  serious 
woman  be  the  beloved  Walkiire  who  looked  so  majestically 
happy  and  tall  upon  the  concert  stage  ? 

As  Oberstdorf  the  year  before  had  helped  to  guide  to  a  suc- 
cessful close  a  European  tour  that  broke  all  records  with 
seventy-six  concerts,  so  Gastein  fulfilled  its  mission  by  putting 
Carreno  into  shape  for  the  most  stupendous  effort  of  all.  Be- 
ginning in  Finland  she  went  by  way  of  a  crowded  winter  sea- 
son in  the  United  States  to  Australia,  New  Zealand,  and  South 
Africa,  then  back  by  way  of  Egypt  and  Italy  to  Germany  again. 
From  home  to  home  the  journey  lasted  eighteen  months.  A 
total  of  one  hundred  and  thirty-two  concerts  surpassed  that  of 
the  first  Australian  tour.  Financially  Carreno,  who  besides  Ar- 
turo  and  Mr.  Scherek  had  again  taken  the  two  younger  children 
and  their  governess  along,  barely  broke  even.  Yet  the  journey 
had  its  compensations.  Carreno's  old  wish  raised  its  head  to 
have  a  piece  of  land  that  she  might  call  her  own,  as  an  invest- 
ment first  of  all,  and  perhaps  as  the  place  where  she  might 
build  herself  the  home  to  which  she  would  ultimately  retire. 
It  was  an  important  moment  for  her  when  she  gave  bold  signa- 
ture to  the  deed  that  made  her  owner  of  a  thirty-acre  tract  of 
land  at  Grossmont  near  San  Diego  next  to  that  belonging  to 
her  good  friend,  Ernestine  Schumann-Heink. 

In  this  second  visit  to  the  antipodes  the  element  of  novelty 
which  packed  the  houses  before  was  lacking,  and  in  South 
Africa,  unused  to  solo  recitals,  five  concerts  at  a  stretch  were  a 
heavy  diet.  It  was  nevertheless  an  interesting  new  experience, 
even  if  occasionally  the  call  of  a  fire  sprinkler  drifted  into  the 


TERESA  CARRENO  311 

quiet  of  a  Beethoven  Andante  in  an  alien  key,  and  the  curfew 
call  for  the  Kafirs  blended  weirdly  with  the  strains  of  the  "Kel- 
tic Sonata."  The  obligatory  round  of  parties  varied  the  routine 
of  concert  playing.  For  the  first  time  in  her  life  Carreno  was 
called  upon  to  dedicate  a  golf  course  in  Johannesburg.  With 
the  club  especially  inscribed  and  presented  to  her  she  was  ex- 
pected to  send  the  first  ball  out  upon  the  green.  This  she  did 
to  such  good  effect  that  a  whole  army  of  caddies  was  unable 
to  find  it. 

More  than  once  an  insistent  sore  throat  and  attendant  rheu- 
matism threatened  to  put  an  end  to  the  tour.  On  the  way  home, 
when  a  last  concert  had  been  given  in  Cairo  under  acute  discom- 
fort, Carreno  sought  remedy  by  taking  a  trip  on  camel  back 
into  the  desert  sands.  But  not  until  the  baths  of  Italy  had  ex- 
erted their  curative  power  did  Carreno  lose  the  last  trace  of 
lameness.  It  was  an  exhausted  artist  who  returned  to  Kurfiir- 
stendamm  28  for  the  summer. 

Before  it  ended  the  doctor  prescribed  a  month  of  solitude  in 
Oberstdorf .  No  member  of  her  family  and  only  one  pupil  was 
allowed  to  accompany  her.  Every  morning  the  strains  of  the 
piano  part  of  the  Taneieff  or  the  Cesar  Franck  "Quintette," 
of  Liszt's  "Feux  follets"  or  the  "B  minor  Sonate"  of  Chopin 
floated  across  the  meadows  behind  the  practice  cabin  into  the 
woods  beyond,  and  often  Carreno  smiled  to  see  her  pupil  in  a 
light-blue  dress,  set  in  relief  against  the  dark  of  the  fir  trees, 
listening  and  learning  by  the  hour.  She  too  was  studying  the 
Chopin  "Sonate."  In  the  middle  of  the  next  lesson  Carreno  sud- 
denly burst  out  laughing.  "Very  good,  very  good,  my  dear !  You 
have  caught  my  tricks."  Then,  more  seriously,  she  reminded 
her:  "Copying  another  easily  turns  into  caricature.  What  is 
right  for  me  is  not  necessarily  right  for  you.  Interpretation  must 
spring  from  the  heart.  Nevertheless  you  have  done  very  well, 
my  dear.  Now  go  and  find  yourself  in  the  'Sonate,'  and  bring  it 


to  me  again  next  time." 


For  four  weeks  Carreno  enjoyed  the  walks  along  the  narrow 
wooded  paths  she  knew  so  well,  and  watched  from  her  high 


312  TERESA  CARRENO 

window  the  evening  mists  drifting  over  Oberstdorf  as  the  lights 
were  being  turned  on,  the  deeply  etched  mountains  turning  to 
rose  in  the  afterglow.  This  was  solitude  in  its  most  exquisite 
essence.  By  chance,  however,  one  acquaintance  or  another  had 
wind  of  Carreno's  whereabouts.  She  was  never  free  from  dan- 
ger of  intrusion.  Herr  Grassl  was  a  good  buffer.  He  loved  noth- 
ing better  than  to  make  excuses  for  her  according  to  the  best 
tradition  of  the  German  theater.  While  Carreno  quickly  dressed 
in  her  walking  clothes  to  make  truth  out  of  fiction,  Herr  Grassl 
with  a  flourishing  bow  and  elaborate  apology  convincingly  de- 
plored : 

Madame  will  be  desolate.  Not  long  ago  she  left  for  a  walk,  a  long 
walk.  No,  Madame  did  not  tell  me  where  she  meant  to  go.  Probably 
she  will  not  return  for  dinner,  and  it  is  such  a  good  dinner  too!  She 
would  so  have  delighted  to  have  you  share  it  with  her.  I  shall  most 
certainly  give  her  your  messages.  No,  she  is  not  at  all  well.  She  suffers 
from  acute  headache.  Auf  Wiedersehen,  meine  Herrschaftenl  Griiss 
Gottl  Madame  will  be  inconsolable. 

Meanwhile  Carreno,  setting  out  for  the  walk  she  was  supposed 
to  be  taking,  stopped  at  the  door  to  listen,  then,  thoroughly 
relishing  the  comedy,  slipped  away  by  the  back  door. 

And  soon  the  leaves  were  falling.  It  was  time  to  prepare  for 
another  European  winter,  opened  by  a  joint  tour  with  Mischa 
Elman  through  the  British  Isles.  Eugenia  had  begged  to  be 
taken  along  instead  of  Arturo.  She  looked  forward  to  it  as  a 
delightful  vacation,  not  realizing  the  duties  it  involved.  Count- 
ing baggage — Carreno  traveled  with  no  less  than  ten  trunks 
and  as  many  packages — laying  out  the  proper  clothes,  making 
calls,  attending  parties  that  lasted  late  at  night  after  the  con- 
cert she  could  only  hear  from  the  green  room,  all  this  was 
preliminary  to  the  routine  of  almost  daily  packing  while  the 
town  slept.  Carreno,  still  on  top  of  the  wave,  was  at  last  obliged 
to  send  her  daughter  to  bed,  while  she  played  her  favorite  part, 
that  of  nurse  to  one  of  her  children. 


TERESA  CARRENO  313 

One  mishap  nearly  ruined  the  trip.  Carreno  had  allowed  her- 
self a  great  luxury.  A  small  suitcase  of  alligator  skin  had  been 
made  for  her  according  to  her  own  specifications.  It  was  designed 
to  hold  all  die  fittings  given  her  in  the  course  of  time  by  pupils 
and  friends.  There  was  a  special  corner  reserved  for  the  pin- 
cushion Teresita  had  made  for  her  mother  at  the  age  of  six. 
Everything  about  this  bag  was  perfect  even  to  the  protective 
covering  of  light-brown  fabric  with  corners  and  initials  of 
darker  leather.  It  was  intended  to  last  a  lifetime  and  would 
have  added  prestige  to  any  traveler. 

One  night  on  the  point  of  leaving  London,  Carreno  had  ar- 
ranged her  things  in  the  compartment  of  the  train  and,  as  was 
her  habit,  went  outside  to  walk  up  and  down  the  platform  for 
a  last  moment  of  exercise.  When  she  returned  to  her  seat  her 
bag,  her  precious  bag,  was  nowhere  to  be  found.  All  the  pro- 
verbial efficiency  of  the  English  police  system  failed  to  unearth 
any  trace  of  the  suitcase  or  of  the  articles  within  it.  The  most 
valuable  one  was  a  pin  made  of  the  brightly  scintillating  blue 
wings  of  a  South  American  butterfly  with  jeweled  antennae, 
covered  with  glass  and  set  in  gold.  It  had  become  practically 
the  only  ornament  she  liked  to  wear.  But  the  loss  which  touched 
her  to  the  heart  was  the  tiny  pincushion  with  its  large  uneven 
stitching. 

After  disaster  and  near-disaster  Carreno  was  glad  to  return  to 
her  own  apartment.  There  also  things  sometimes  disappeared, 
but  one  always  knew  where  they  were  and  how  to  get  them 
back.  It  was  only  necessary  to  call  poor  old  Josephine:  "Jose- 
phine,  I  have  lost  my  silver  paper-cutter.  You  are  clever  at  find- 
ing things.  Please  see  that  it  is  put  back  in  its  place.  I  need  it 
before  tomorrow."  Invariably  the  lost  was  found.  Josephine  had 
one  single  obsession,  the  fear  of  being  left  penniless  to  starve. 
Against  this  evil  day  she  stowed  away  anything  that  happened 
to  attract  her,  from  ash  trays  to  coffee  grounds.  The  family 
good-naturedly  bore  with  this  idiosyncrasy.  After  all  who  could 
tell  fortunes  from  molten  lead  on  a  New  Year's  eve  more 
vividly  than  she,  and  who  at  heart  could  be  more  devoted! 


3M  TERESA  CARRENO 

Although  Carreno's  concerts  overreached  the  fifty  mark  in 
the  season  of  191 1  she  seemed  to  have  more  time  at  home  than 
usual.  Friends  who  dropped  in  at  the  tea  hour  often  found  her 
at  the  head  of  the  long  table.  One  afternoon  Frau  Leonard, 
whose  husband  was  entrusted  with  the  partial  management  of 
Carreno's  concert  business,  was  the  principal  guest.  Bruno  Gor- 
tatowsky,  Carreno's  assistant,  an  almost  daily  visitor,  and  the 
pupil  who  had  just  finished  her  lesson  were  the  only  ones  out- 
side of  the  family  circle  on  this  day.  Frau  Leonard  was  a  rela- 
tively new  friend.  Carreno  wished  to  show  her  special  courtesy. 
She  was  never  at  a  loss  for  vocabulary,  but  occasionally  the  con- 
volutions of  German  word  order  were  too  much  for  her.  As 
Frau  Leonard  was  leaving  Carreno  accompanied  her  to  the 
door.  Hertha,  always  the  first  to  enjoy  a  ludicrous  situation, 
laughed  aloud  to  hear  her  mother  say:  "Then  I  shall  have  the 
pleasure  of  not  seeing  you  until  April?"  As  she  reentered  the 
room,  Carreno  found  the  others  in  gales  of  merriment.  Not 
one  to  permit  a  joke  at  her  expense,  unless  it  were  initiated  by 
herself,  she  abruptly  left  the  room. 

But  Giovanni's  vagaries  always  amused  her.  His  gift  of 
mimicry  was  nearly  as  good  as  her  own.  Curiosity  prompting 
him  to  find  out  just  what  went  on  in  the  salon  when  his  mother 
gave  interviews,  he  disguised  himself  one  day  as  a  reporter, 
made  an  appointment  by  telephone,  and  rang  his  own  front 
doorbell.  Carreno  received  him  formally,  and  it  was  ten  min- 
utes before  the  light  in  his  eyes,  so  like  hers,  made  her  aware 
that  she  was  speaking  to  her  own  son. 

Another  year  flew  by — on  swifter  wings  than  ever,  it  seemed 
to  Carreno — and  soon  Hertha  and  Eugenia  were  again  im- 
patiently waiting  for  the  all-important  decision.  Where  would 
their  mother  decide  to  spend  the  summer  of  1912  ?  Young  girls 
of  eighteen  and  twenty  did  not  look  for  a  quiet  retreat  with  an 
inspiring  view.  Their  requirements  were  simple:  lots  of  com- 
pany and  lots  of  tennis !  A  friend  had  scoured  Switzerland  for 
the  ideal  spot  and  finally  found  it,  she  thought,  in  Grindelwald. 
The  Chalet  Burgner  stood  high  at  the  end  of  a  long  street. 


TERESA  CARRENO  315 

From  the  veranda  the  eye  was  led  over  the  valley  to  the  gleam- 
ing Grindelwald  glacier  field  nestling  in  the  bare  arms  of  the 
mountain.  The  house  was  much  like  the  Villa  Waltenberger  on 
the  Salzberg,  or  the  Hotel  Panorama  in  Oberstdorf .  It  was  spa- 
cious and  homelike  and  simple.  Along  the  main  street  which  it 
dominated  there  was  accommodation  for  the  pupils  and  their 
instruments  in  peasant  houses  and  pensions.  The  conditions 
were  equally  auspicious  for  those  seeking  solitude  and  for  the 
socially  inclined.  The  prospect  enchanted  Eugenia  and  Hertha, 
and  Carreno  with  her  thirty-odd  pieces  of  baggage,  her  hus- 
band, and  one  pupil  too  impatient  to  wait  for  the  rest,  set  out  to 
pave  the  way  for  the  coming  of  the  family  and  the  musical 
colony. 

Immediately  there  was  something  distasteful  to  her  in  the 
atmosphere  of  the  place.  The  air  was  invigorating,  and  yet  she 
felt  ill,  depressed.  At  last  she  found  the  explanation.  It  was  the 
glacier.  It  held  her  with  its  spell.  Look  at  it  she  must,  even 
against  her  will,  and  every  day  it  appeared  to  be  coming  closer. 
The  students  worked  feverishly,  on  pins  and  needles  for  fear 
that  their  maestra  would  abandon  this  queerly  assorted  group. 
They  did  not  breathe  freely  until  one  morning  Hertha  and 
Eugenia  zigzagged  down  the  street  to  spread  the  glad  news 
that  their  mother  was  feeling  better  and  had  decided  to  stay. 
She  had  even  joked  about  that  archhypnotist,  the  glacier.  It 
would  not  surprise  her,  so  she  said,  to  see  that  clammy  thing 
confront  her  eye,  slowly  making  its  way  up  the  aisle,  as  she 
stepped  upon  the  platform  at  her  Berlin  concert.  Might  it  be 
well  to  send  it  an  invitation  as  Don  Giovanni  had  summoned 
the  cold  statue  of  the  Commendatore  to  his  party?  All  was  well. 
Carreno  once  more  was  pouring  tea  for  the  chosen,  giving  les- 
sons, taking  her  morning  walks.  Arturo  again  trundled  his 
bicycle  up  the  hill,  reading  his  Corriere.  The  colony  celebrated 
and  joined  together  in  early  morning  tramps  that  began  in 
drizzling  rain  and  ended  on  crisp,  crackling  fields  of  snow. 

A  high  moment  came  when  Wilhelm  Backhaus  arrived  to 
practice  with  Carreno  for  their  coming  tour  of  Great  Britain 


316  TERESA  CARRENO 

in  two-piano  ensemble.  However  much  they  liked  each  other 
as  people,  there  was  not  enough  time  to  make  a  pretense  of 
blending  two  individuals,  artistically  as  far  apart  as  they  were 
in  age.  Musically  speaking,  Carreno  was  relieved  when  this 
tournament  came  to  an  outwardly  passable  end. 

Mentally  Carreno's  barometric  pressure  registered  an  all- 
time  low.  Truly  appalling  was  the  prospect  of  her  golden  jubi- 
lee as  an  artist.  It  also  brought  its  complications.  To  her  horror 
she  discovered  that  her  naive  and  faithful  assistant  Bruno  Gor- 
tatowsky  was  taking  up  a  collection  of  money  to  be  presented 
to  her  on  that  occasion.  Although  by  tactful  persuasion  he  was 
brought  to  abandon  the  project,  she  could  not  keep  him  from 
using  the  savings  he  had  accumulated  bit  by  bit  to  buy  himself 
the  Bechstein  he  coveted  and  needed,  in  order  to  present  her 
instead  with  a  costly  tea  service  of  solid  silver. 

One  morning  Carreno  was  walking  with  one  of  her  pupils 
along  a  Grindelwald  path.  She  stopped  to  look  at  the  moun- 
tains, at  their  peaks  of  blinding  white  against  unbroken  blue, 
as  if  to  measure  her  own  stature  against  their  immensity.  She 
spoke  as  if  to  herself:  "What  have  I  still  to  live  for?  After  this 
anniversary  celebration  I  shall  have  had  all  that  an  artist  can 
desire.  No  matter  how  long  I  may  live,  I  cannot  expect  to  reap 
higher  honor,  greater  glory,  or  more  wealth  than  are  mine  to- 
day. And  they  call  it  a  jubilee!"  For  a  time  there  was  silence. 
The  only  sound  the  dull  thud  of  the  cane  in  its  even  rhythm. 
And  once  more  she  halted  to  let  her  eye  travel  across  to  an 
almost  invisible  trail,  a  light,  jagged  line  engraved  upon  gray 
stone.  "There  still  is  one  thing  I  can  do.  I  can  teach.  If  a  moun- 
tain climber  who  has  scaled  dangerous  heights  meets  another 
looking  for  the  way  up,  is  it  not  his  duty  to  show  him  the 
shortest,  easiest,  safest  path?"  She  went  on  with  a  firmer,  faster 
step,  a  clearer  tapping  of  her  cane.  She  still  had  a  mission  to  per- 
form. 


Her  mind  turned  to  the  past.  Shocking  was  the  havoc  that  a 
fourth  marriage  had  created  in  Carreno's  inner  circle  those  long 
ten  years  ago.  She  was  not  one  to  tolerate  disrespect  of  the  hus- 
band she  had  chosen,  and  even  her  lawyer,  Justizrath  Michaelis, 
and  the  genial  Mr.  Cochran  had  been  under  suspicion  of  dis- 
loyalty, and  were  nearly  cut  from  her  list  like  many  others.  Mrs. 
Watson  and  Mrs.  MacDowell,  who  had  been  frank  in  opposing 
this  union  while  there  were  still  time,  resigned  themselves  to 
the  inevitable,  and  received  Arturo  as  a  fourth  in  their  respec- 
tive quartettes.  Mrs.  MacDowell  wrote  wistfully:  "I  never 
thought  it  would  fall  to  my  lot  to  defend  your  fourth  husband." 
That  he  grew  in  her  affection  to  the  end  a  letter,  probably  her 
last,  written  to  Carreno  on  February  i,  1909,  shows  very  defi- 
nitely: 

I  am  so  happy  that  you  have  such  a  dear,  devoted  husband  who  makes 
your  busy  life  more  restful,  contented,  and  happy.  God  bless  him 
for  it  too.  We  all  love  him.  Who  could  help  it  who  knows  him  as 
we  do,  the  loveliness  o£  his  daily  life — so  unspoiled  by  prosperity,  so 
faithful,  so  delicate  in  his  feelings — and  we  are  all  so  happy  that  you 
have  him  in  your  long  journey  to  smooth  all  the  rough  places  for  you 
that  he  can. 

Carreno  was  without  doubt.  In  marrying  blond,  blue-eyed 
Arturo  she  had  made  no  mistake.  What  if  he  had  added  an- 
other name  to  the  long  list  depending  upon  her  for  support! 
What  did  it  matter  that  she  had  lost  the  7,500  m.  she  had  in- 
vested in  the  business  which  Arturo  had  founded  with  such 
high  hopes !  It  was  the  fault  of  his  Italian  associate  that  the  en- 
terprise had  failed.  For  the  two  short  years  that  it  lasted  they 
had  sold  good  Italian  wines  and  the  best  salted  almonds  to  be 
had  in  Berlin  at  their  store,  Uhlandstrasse  48.  But  how  could 
Arturo,  careful  though  he  was  as  a  keeper  of  books,  be  expected 
to  have  the  necessary  business  acumen  to  hold  his  own  against 
an  ill-chosen  partner!  Carreno  entered  her  loss  and  quickly  for- 
got about  it.  Secretly  she  was  glad  that  Arturo  was  again  free 
to  devote  himself  to  her  interests  alone.  When  the  bustle  of  an 


318  TERESA  CARRENO 

apartment  full  of  children  unnerved  her,  it  was  a  refreshing 
change  to  go  off  to  an  Italian  restaurant  close  at  hand  with 
Arturo.  There  they  refurbished  old  jokes,  renewed  memories 
of  the  days  they  had  shared  years  ago,  over  a  delicious  dinner 
made  festive  with  a  bottle  of  the  best  dry  champagne. 

For  Arturo  it  was  enough  just  to  sit  or  to  walk  by  her  side. 
His  place  in  her  heart  had  made  him  feel  that  he  was  of  im- 
portance in  the  scheme  of  things,  and  this  he  prized  more  than 
the  worldly  comforts  he  now  was  permitted  to  enjoy,  his  hand- 
some clothes,  his  good  cigars.  There  was  no  doubt  that  he  ex- 
erted a  beneficent  influence  over  the  two  older  children.  He 
was  of  their  own  blood.  Arturo  had  been  the  friend  of  their 
childhood.  They  understood  each  other. 

It  was  different  with  the  little  d'Alberts.  As  their  own  father 
became  a  known  factor  in  their  lives,  they  quite  naturally  re- 
sented the  control  that  Arturo — called  Papa  to  distinguish  him 
from  d'Albert,  always  referred  to  as  "our  father" — had  over 
their  own  actions.  It  seemed  sometimes  as  if  they  could  not 
reach  their  mother  except  through  him.  The  older  they  grew 
the  more  complicated  was  this  relationship  to  become.  The  tact 
that  never  failed  Arturo  in  dealing  with  Teresita  and  Giovanni 
forsook  him  hopelessly  where  these  two  little  girls  were  con- 
cerned. They  stood  against  him,  strong  in  union,  a  formidable 
pair.  Violent  scoldings  so  congenial  to  the  Southern  tempera- 
ment faced  in  repercussion  the  telling  weapon  of  silence.  There 
were  weeks  when  the  opposing  camps  were  not  on  speaking 
terms. 

And  still  Carreno  knew  that  she  had  made  no  mistake.  She 
loved  Arturo,  trusted  his  judgment,  and  occasionally  he  even 
caused  her  unwitting  flurries  of  jealousy.  On  one  of  their  ocean 
voyages  Arturo's  chair  happened  to  stand  next  to  that  of  a  very 
personable  young  woman.  They  talked  and  laughed  together 
in  the  way  of  steamer  acquaintances.  Carreno  came  upon  them 
just  as  Arturo  was  picking  up  a  book  for  his  neighbor.  It  needed 
no  more  than  that  to  make  his  wife  stalk  off  to  her  cabin  in 
anger,  followed  by  a  puzzled  husband — how  was  he  to  know 


TERESA  CARRENO  319 

that  Eugenia  had  been  joking  about  "Papa's  love  affair?" — who 
reached  the  door  only  to  have  it  slammed  in  his  face.  "Don't 
you  dare  to  come  in  here,"  shouted  an  irate  voice,  and  poor 
Arturo  went  out  upon  the  deck  to  meditate  upon  the  ways  of 
an  artist  and  to  await  the  return  of  a  more  conciliatory  state  of 
mind. 

Whenever  Carreno  went  on  tour  with  her  personal  maid, 
Marie,  instead  of  Arturo  by  her  side,  she  took  comfort  in  writ- 
ing letters  to  her  husband  at  every  breathing  point.  Thus  from 
Amsterdam  in  one  of  those  rare  moments  when  she  considered 
her  reactions  to  her  own  concerts  worth  mentioning: 

Since  yesterday  evening  I  am  here  playing  the  part  of  a  great  lady 
without  taking  in  even  a  penny. — I  have  the  same  rooms  we  had 
together — do  you  remember? — and  it  makes  me  sick  at  heart  that 
you  are  not  here,  Turo  mio ! !  This  morning  I  stayed  in  bed,  and  after 
my  breakfast  I  did  my  accounts  with  the  result  that  I  lacked  one 
gulden  and  83  cents. — I  am  more  relieved  than  I  can  tell  you  not  to 
have  to  play  either  today  or  tomorrow.  I  feel  like  another  person  when 
I  haven't  another  program  before  me.  Yesterday  for  instance,  when 
I  had  played  really  well,  I  had  a  great  joy.  When  I  don't  play  as  I 
wish,  I  could  hit  myself  and  send  the  piano  and  all  concerts  to  the 
inferno. 

Carreno  was  not  an  artist  given  to  stage  fright.  She  had  her 
superstitions,  but  these  she  generally  left  outside  at  the  door  of 
the  concert  hall.  There  was  only  one  recital  that  she  regularly 
dreaded  every  year,  the  first  Berlin  Klavierabend  of  the  season. 
"Turo  mio,"  she  might  be  heard  to  say  almost  in  tears:  "I  know 
I  shall  play  badly,  I  feel  that  it  will  be  a  complete  fiasco."  Ar- 
turo knew  how  to  strike  the  right  note,  how  to  bring  a  smile 
to  those  tightly  set  lips:  "Teresita,  have  you  ever  made  a  failure 
in  Berlin? — No? — Well,  then  it  is  about  time  you  did.  Every- 
body has  to  play  badly  sometimes."  His  methods  worked.  He 
well  knew  that  not  even  the  glacier  of  Grindelwald  making  its 
dripping  way  to  the  front  row  could  affect  the  composure  of  the 
Walkiire  once  seated  before  her  Bechstein.  With  every  year 
of  companionship  Carreno  became  more  certain  that  Arturo's 


320  TERESA  CARRENO 

protecting  nearness  was  her  great  necessity,  of  which  nothing 
could  deprive  her  save  death. 

Carreno  turned  in  thought  to  the  child  of  her  worries,  Teresita. 
However  indefatigably  the  mother  tried  to  iron  out  her  jumble 
of  difficulties,  there  was  no  use.  Teresita  remained  an  undis- 
ciplined child  of  genius,  a  veritable  Peter  Pan  living  a  whim- 
sical life  in  which  adult  reasoning  played  no  part  and  awakened 
no  response.  The  family  could  not  feel  at  peace  in  the  apart- 
ment unless  Teresita  were  out  of  it  or  shut  up  in  her  room  with 
a  headache  that  was  real  or  improvised  as  it  happened. 

Following  the  advice  of  her  anonymous  counselor  in  Finland 
Carreno  had  come  to  see  that  it  was  not  for  the  best  to  push 
Teresita  into  a  premature  concert  career.  She  was  willing  to  let 
her  filter  into  public  consciousness,  giving  a  concert  here  or 
there  as  occasion  presented  itself.  Meanwhile  she  gave  her 
daughter  invaluable  but  irregular  lessons.  They  convinced  her 
that  here  was  the  dust  that  stars  are  made  of.  The  family 
learned  to  dread  these  lessons.  When  Carreno  announced  at  the 
luncheon  table:  "Teresita,  I  want  to  see  you  at  three  o'clock  to- 
day," they  shivered.  These  torrid  temperaments  were  bound  to 
clash  in  disagreement,  the  lessons  sure  to  end  in  a  double  head- 
ache. 

It  was  the  mother's  plan  that  they  appear  in  two-piano  con- 
certs together.  The  idea  had  public  appeal.  Nevertheless,  this 
combination  did  not  last.  Carreno  for  once  was  the  more  nerv- 
ous of  the  two,  and  the  quality  of  her  own  solo  groups  suffered 
in  consequence.  Besides,  she  could  never  be  sure  that  Teresita 
would  play  until  she  was  actually  on  the  platform.  Speaking 
of  such  a  concert  the  Neueste  Nachrichten  of  Chemnitz  noted 
that 

Fr.  Carreno  was  not  at  her  best  this  time;  the  palm  went  incontestably 
to  her  daughter,  Teresita  Carreno  Tagliapietra,  who  since  the  last 
time  she  played  in  Chemnitz  has  come  into  gorgeous  bloom  both 
bodily  and  musically,  and  who  gave  proof  yesterday  in  the  "E  minor 
Concerto"  of  Chopin  of  well-ripened  artistry.  I  cannot  remember  ever 


TERESA  CARRENO  321 

having  heard  this  concerto — or  Chopin  in  any  form  at  that — played 
so  beautifully  and  with  such  comprehension  of  his  own  inner  mean- 
ing- 

Finally,  in  1906,  Carreiio  found  her  daughter  ready  for  a 
concert  with  orchestra.  The  Singakademie,  she  hoped,  would 
prove  a  setting  of  as  good  omen  for  her  daughter  as  it  had  been 
for  herself  in  1889.  Teresita  presented  herself  in  three  concerti, 
each  one  an  old  favorite  on  the  slate  of  the  great  Briinnhilde. 
On  the  evening  of  the  ordeal  Carreno,  who  faced  thousands  at 
a  time  without  a  tremor,  was  too  nervously  upset  to  attend  the 
performance.  Teresita  felt  more  at  ease  for  her  absence.  This 
examination  earned  her  a  good  cum  laude.  The  Berliner  ho\al 
Anzeiger  admitted  that  "she  had  success,  but  she  would  perhaps 
have  had  a  greater  one  if  she  did  not  carry  the  name  which  on 
the  other  hand  again  wakened  an  interest  in  her  appearance  at 
the  very  outset.  For  Teresita  has  an  intensively  musical  nature 
together  with  individuality  and  wild  temperament. 

Her  managers  were  to  find  out  to  their  cost  that  this  tem- 
perament was  apt  to  trickle  into  her  business  relations.  They 
learned  not  to  count  her  concerts  before  they  were  given.  If 
she  appeared  for  rehearsal  at  all,  she  came  half  an  hour  late 
without  apology.  Or  she  would  telephone  to  her  agent  in 
Frankfurt,  postponing  a  concert  she  was  to  give  that  evening, 
simply  because  she  had  found  something  more  interesting  to 
do  in  Cologne.  Concert  agents,  who  had  at  first  taken  her  seri- 
ously for  the  sake  of  her  mother  and  her  promise,  after  Teresita 
had  defaulted  once  too  often,  began  to  withdraw  from  the 
scene.  When  she  did  play  the  result  was  not  to  be  foretold.  She 
might  choose  to  thrill  her  audience  with  delicate,  insinuating 
melodies,  or  it  might  be  her  night  for  deafening  their  ears  with 
the  noise  of  the  mob  storming  the  Bastille.  But  no  matter  how 
much  she  annoyed  them,  conductors,  critics,  agents,  and  the 
public  conceded  that  she  could  play  the  piano — if  and  when  she 
felt  inclined.  That  was  not  often,  for  there  was  little  ambition 
in  her.  She  preferred  to  lie  indolently  upon  her  uncomfortable 
laurels  rather  than  let  them  prick  her  into  activity  uncongenial 


322  TERESA  CARRENO 

to  her  nature.  And  with  teaching  the  situation  was  much  the 
same.  She  was  a  good  teacher  when  it  pleased  her  to  be.  If  she 
preferred  to  go  shopping  instead  of  giving  her  lesson,  she  did 
not  think  it  necessary  to  notify  her  students  first.  Let  them  wait 
by  twos  and  threes  if  they  cared  to. 

Teresita's  will-o'-the-wispish  charm  was  attractive  to  the 
young  men  of  her  acquaintance,  among  them  a  would-be 
singer,  conductor,  composer,  or  whatever  the  fates  would  lead 
him  to  become,  from  England.  A  broad,  tall,  and  likable  young 
man,  Teresita  found  him  amusing,  tolerable,  or  irritating  ac- 
cording to  her  mood.  He  fell  irreparably  in  love  with  this 
tousle-curled,  trouble-making  beauty  who  could  on  occasion 
turn  into  a  sleek  bobbed-haired  demon  with  bangs  overnight. 
Teresita  considered  him  a  plaything,  not  caring  particularly 
whether  he  came  or  went.  It  was  not  Teresita's  lovers  but  her 
health  that  bothered  Carreno  at  this  moment.  Since  she  could 
not  be  left  alone  in  the  apartment  while  her  mother  traveled  in 
Australia,  Carreno  decided  to  take  her  along.  Teresita  fell  in 
with  the  idea.  There  was  just  a  chance  that  this  adventuring 
might  brighten  the  dull  life  that  she  found  so  desolate.  Be- 
sides, she  liked  being  with  Arturo. 

Melbourne  was  the  first  objective.  One  morning  there  came 
a  knock  at  the  door:  "A  gentleman  to  see  you,  Miss,  from  Ber- 
lin." Teresita  clapped  her  hands:  "Mammie,  what  do  you 
think  ?  That  crazy  boy  has  followed  me  all  the  way  here,  but  I 
didn't  believe  he  would  do  it."  And  to  the  boy:  "I  shall  be  down 
directly,"  which  meant  a  good  half  hour  in  Teresita  language. 
This  time  when  he  asked  her  to  marry  him  she  saw  no  reason 
for  refusing.  Was  he  not  her  Lohengrin  come  to  fight  her  bat- 
tles, to  free  her  from  the  intolerable  monotony  of  being  her 
mother's  shadow?  Why  had  she  never  thought  of  it  before? 
She  could  lead  her  own  life,  be  her  own  free  self  like  any  other 
girl  of  twenty-five.  Carreno  agreed.  What  a  relief  to  delegate 
the  responsibility  of  Teresita  to  this  strong,  solid  Englishman. 
They  might  even  be  happy  together.  The  wedding  took  place 
simply  in  church  on  the  fifth  of  June,  1907,  and  Teresita  for 


TERESA  CARRENO  323 

the  first  time  was  to  know  the  joy  of  living  in  her  own  house, 
of  being  her  own  mistress  to  ride  and  swim  or  just  dream  at 
will  with  the  smoke  rings  wreathing  above  her.  The  pair  even- 
tually followed  Carreno's  route  home  by  way  of  the  Fiji  Is- 
lands. Suva  was  the  place  which  in  all  their  adventuring  suited 
them  best. 

When  Carreno  returned  to  Berlin  after  the  disenchanting 
summer  of  1908  in  Italy  and  Oberstdorf,  she  found  Teresita  es- 
tablished in  an  apartment  of  the  Kaiserin  Augustastrasse  74.  It 
was  not  Teresita  who  notified  her  mother  that  there  would  be  a 
baby  in  the  fall,  but  the  mother  of  her  husband,  who  casually 
mentioned  it  in  a  letter  written  to  ask  Carreno  to  settle  a  cer- 
tain sum  upon  Teresita  until  her  son  should  have  finished  his 
musical  studies.  Carreno  saw  with  a  sinking  heart  that  the  bur- 
den of  Teresita's  support  was  still  to  rest  mainly  upon  her  shoul- 
ders, and  answered  in  a  typical  letter: 

I  wish  it  were  in  my  power  to  do  as  you  ask  me.  Alas!  I  cannot,  for 
my  only  resources  are  my  work,  which  unfortunately  I  cannot  so 
safely  rely  on  (no  artist  ever  can)  as  to  enable  me  to  settle  any  fixed 
sum  on  Teresita  for  one  year  or  any  part  of  it.  That  I  am  ready  to 
do  what  I  can,  and  as  much  as  it  is  in  my  power,  I  hardly  need  to 
mention,  for  to  help  our  children  is  not  only  the  mother's  privilege  but 
her  greatest  pleasure. 

Meanwhile  Teresita  had  turned  from  her  piano  to  composi- 
tion, samples  of  which  she  sent  to  her  mother  in  Oberstdorf. 
Carreno  took  time  to  criticize  them  in  detail  in  a  letter  which 
shows  how  ready  she  always  was  to  ignore  previous  disappoint- 
ments in  the  dawning  of  the  slightest  hope. 

...  It  was  impossible  for  me  to  answer  your  first  letter,  because 
I  was  stupid  enough  to  try  to  cut  out  a  sliver  which  had  become 
imbedded  in  the  flesh  of  the  little  finger  of  my  right  hand,  and  the 
same  thing  happened  as  in  Melbourne.  Now,  God  be  thanked,  I  am 
better,  and  in  a  few  days  I  shall  not  even  remember  what  I  endured. 
Your  Sonata  has  many  very  good  things,  and  I  took  much  pleasure 
in  playing  it.  As  I  told  you  when  I  read  it  over  superficially  on  the 
day  you  showed  it  to  me,  it  is  not  good  that  the  first  part  should  be  in 


324  TERESA  CARRENO 

E,  and  the  second  in  D  major.  The  Scherzo,  too,  ought  to  stay  in  the 
principal  key  just  like  the  last  movement,  or  at  least  in  some  related 
one.  The  development  of  the  first  part  is  not  well-made,  and  the 
Scherzo  is  too  short.  All  these  defects  however  are  just  the  result  of 
your  inexperience.  With  the  next  Sonata  everything  will  be  much 
better.  Your  last  composition  (that  which  you  do  not  know  how  to 
name)  I  was  unable  to  play.  When  I  shall  do  so  I  will  tell  you  more 
about  it.  Your  idea  of  modernizing  that  Bach  Fugue  pleases  me 
very  much.  It  will  be  a  good  study  for  you,  and  will  be  a  good  thing 
for  the  piano  if  you  adapt  it  better  to  our  instrument  of  today.  I  am 
very  glad  that  the  things  for  the  "Killiwillie"  had  already  come  and 
amuse  you.  I  believe  I  have  not  forgotten  anything;  but  ask  your 
nurse,  and  tell  me  if  anything  is  lacking  and  I  will  send  it  to  you. 

In  October  the  baby  was  born.  Teresita,  the  mother,  was  al- 
most as  helpless  as  her  daughter  Suva.  When  the  baby  cried 
so  did  the  mother.  Teresita,  the  housekeeper,  fared  no  better. 
Seventeen-year-old  Eugenia  was  shocked  by  the  size  of  Teresita's 
meat  bill,  and  would  have  liked  to  show  her  how  to  manage  as 
thriftily  as  she  did  for  her  mother,  a  duty  she  only  recently  as- 
sumed. Both  Teresita  and  her  husband  were  unhappy.  Was  this 
the  freedom  for  which  they  had  forsaken  their  homes  ?  Was  it 
for  this  they  had  abandoned  their  music  studies?  When  Ter- 
esita's  mother-in-law  stepped  in,  offering  to  take  the  baby  while 
her  parents  went  on  with  their  professions,  both  jumped  at  the 
chance. 

Teresita  left  for  Paris  accompanied  by  Josephine,  this  time 
to  study  singing  and  acting.  She  bid  for  her  mother's  sympathy 
by  describing  her  lonely  Christmas  in  one  little  room  "like 
Mimi  in  La  Boheme.  ...  If  you  had  let  me  study  the  ballet 
when  I  was  nine  or  ten  years  old,  things  would  be  much  easier 
for  me.  .  .  .  People  expect  so  much  of  an  artist,  a  wonderful 
voice,  good  diction,  and  the  facility  of  a  ballet  dancer,  to  be 
Sarah  Bernhardts,  Duses,  Strausses,  and  Debussys  all  in  one," 
she  laments.  In  a  peculiar  manner  she  loved  her  mother.  "I  wish 
I  could  do  something  to  help  in  some  way,  as  it  seems  you  were 
born  to  work  for  other  people,"  she  affectionately  wrote  more 


TERESA  CARRENO  325 

than  once,  yet  without  energy  enough  to  put  her  thought  into 
action.  She  shared  with  her  mother  the  new  discovery  of  a 
miraculous  toothpaste  called  Kolynos,  and  asked  her  to  try  it 
on  the  "kids,"  and  then  in  the  same  breath  she  suggested  that 
her  mother  open  a  piano  school  in  Paris,  London,  and  New 
York  all  at  once,  because  people  are  becoming  interested  in 
"la  nouvelle  methode  allemande  par  laquelle  on  arrive  a  bien 
jouer  sans  beaucoup  etudier."  Even  Breithaupt's  revolutionary 
book,  Die  Natiirliche  Klaviertechni\,  dedicated  to  Carreno,  was 
being  translated  into  French. 

And  on  she  went  at  random,  adding  violin  and  wind  instru- 
ments to  her  studies  in  order  to  write  a  fairy  opera,  buying  ex- 
pensive clothes  while  her  mother  footed  the  bills.  Then,  tiring 
of  Paris,  Teresita  left  for  Levanto  to  study  singing  with  Brag- 
giotti,  and  finding  him  much  like  Lilli  Lehmann  in  his  style 
of  voice  production,  she  changed  to  Grazziani  in  Florence, 
who  taught  in  the  good  old  Italian  way  more  to  her  liking. 

Teresita  is  a  hard  person  to  keep  track  of.  She  lives  now  un- 
der Josephine's  name,  now  under  her  own.  Sometimes  she 
turns  up  in  Paris  where  the  floods  bring  the  smells  of  disin- 
fectants into  her  window  and  works  spasmodically  at  score 
reading  with  the  thought  of  becoming  a  conductor.  Again,  the 
fact  that  she  is  able  to  crescendo  from  a  pianissimo  to  a  good 
forte  on  high  C  makes  her  decide  that  singing  is  her  calling 
after  all.  Money  drifts  through  her  fingers  like  the  white  sand 
of  the  Riviera.  When  there  is  no  more,  she  pawns  the  clothes  she 
dislikes  and  writes  for  a  new  supply  of  funds.  Now  and  then 
she  sees  her  husband  only  to  quarrel  at  the  slightest  provocation 
or  none  at  all.  Amicably  enough  they  decide  to  separate,  not  yet 
a  year  after  the  child's  birth.  Again  she  moves  on  from  place  to 
place.  Her  husband  seeks  her  out  in  Jersey  only  to  find  that 
she  is  back  in  Paris.  Eager  to  marry  a  young  girl  of  recent  ac- 
quaintance who  will  make  him  a  better  wife,  he  now  desires 
a  divorce,  which  on  her  mother's  advice  Teresita  refuses  to 
grant.  Josephine  once  more  comes  to  live  with  her  favorite 
among  Carreno's  children,  this  time  in  a  Milan  apartment, 


326  TERESA  CARRENO 

where  Teresita  continues  to  disown  her  name.  She  is  afraid  of 
something,  of  anything,  even  of  people  on  the  street.  But  when 
Josephine  falls  ill  with  a  third  attack  of  double  pneumonia,  she 
nurses  her  day  and  night,  substituting  the  medicines  she  be- 
lieves in  for  those  the  doctor  prescribes.  Worse  comes  to  worst 
when  the  landlord  suddenly  sells  the  building,  and  orders  them 
to  leave  at  the  end  of  the  week.  Teresita  fights  for  a  reprieve. 
Moving  Josephine  just  then  would  be  fatal.  Several  weeks  of 
grace  are  granted,  during  which  a  chimney  fire  nearly  smothers 
them  both.  Yet  Josephine  miraculously  recovers,  thanks  to  the 
devoted  care  of  one  who,  like  Scarlett  O'Hara,  only  in  a  rare  mo- 
ment thinks  first  of  anyone  but  herself. 

Tired  of  Milan  Teresita  accepts  an  invitation  to  visit  a  friend 
in  Norway.  It  is  a  happy  vacation,  the  nicest  part  of  which 
is  the  time  spent  alone  as  Miss  de  Paul  in  Aasgaard:  "I  feel  so 
much  happier  and  quieter  when  people  know  nothing  about 
me,  and  I  can  pass  unobserved  through  the  crowds,"  she  writes. 

A  new  city  now  lures  her.  She  returns  to  Berlin  to  ask  that 
Arturo  accompany  her  to  Rome  where  Maestro  Villa  will  do 
wonders  for  her  voice.  She  sees  it  with  clarity.  The  piano  will 
always  wait  for  her.  For  singing  it  will  soon  be  too  late.  Ar- 
turo is  not  free  to  join  her  as  she  begged,  and  Teresita  leaves 
for  Rome,  only  to  abandon  it  again  for  Naples  against  her 
mother's  wishes. 

With  Teresita,  Carreno  would  always  be  beyond  her  depth. 
Her  resources  were  exhausted.  How  could  she  be  shielded,  kept 
safe  among  the  dreadful  people  she  chose  to  cultivate  as  her 
friends!  Yet  Teresita  proved  more  than  once  that  she  could 
handle  an  emergency.  Not  many  days  before,  Teresita  had 
pushed  away  only  just  in  time  the  point  of  a  dagger  meant  for 
the  heart  of  the  medical  student  at  her  side.  It  fell  from  the 
hand  of  a  jealous  rival.  Carreno  read  the  letter  telling  of  this 
episode  with  horror  and  sent  up  a  silent  prayer  to  the  Dear 
Father  for  the  one  who,  with  all  her  vagaries,  was  most  like  her- 
self. 


TERESA  CARRENO  327 

Carreno  never  admitted  to  herself  that  her  children  could  be 
grown  men  and  women.  Giovanni,  even  at  thirty,  was  still  her 
"beloved  baby  boy."  His  mother  liked  to  think  of  him  so,  liked 
to  manage  his  life.  In  great  part  this  attitude  helped  to  keep 
him  dependent,  kept  him  from  making  the  most  of  his  gifts. 
He  had  inherited  something  of  the  laissez  aller  nature  of  his 
father,  the  baritone,  his  love  of  a  game  of  chance,  as  well  as  a 
paler  reflection  of  his  talent,  but  he  looked  like  his  mother,  with 
the  same  cameo-cut-in-onyx  profile,  the  same  proud  bearing  of 
hidalgo  ancestors.  He  was  witty,  he  was  clever,  he  could  be 
the  life  of  the  party.  Yet,  unlike  his  mother,  his  joyousness 
seldom  rang  true.  It  displayed  itself  against  a  backdrop  of  pes- 
simism at  first  assumed — the  sophisticated  veneer  of  the  very 
young — then  gradually  becoming  ingrained. 

Far  from  intending  to  stand  in  his  way,  it  was  important  to 
Carreno  that  her  only  son  should  find  himself.  His  talent  for 
the  violin  was  already  somewhat  developed.  To  use  it  as  a 
means  to  this  end  seemed  worth  the  trial,  and  Carreno  un- 
hesitatingly spent  2,000  m.  for  a  good  violin  and  much  more 
for  the  best  of  teaching.  However,  long  hours  of  intensive 
practice  were  not  for  Giovanni.  He  would  have  reveled  in  that 
short-cut  method  "by  which  one  arrives  at  superlative  results 
without  much  study."  Thoroughly  annoyed  by  an  instrument 
which  would  not  at  once  respond  to  his  thought  and  fingers, 
he  turned  to  shorthand  and  typing,  learning  the  bare  essentials 
necessary  for  the  position  offered  him  in  a  business  office  in 
Paris.  The  sine  qua  non  of  alertness  and  care  for  detail  had  not 
been  acquired  in  his  course,  and  this  opening,  too,  soon  closed 
against  him. 

There  was  one  field  in  which  he  might  succeed  with  a  mini- 
mum of  effort,  given  the  prerequisite  which  Giovanni  felt  he 
had.  He  could  sing  in  his  beguiling  high  baritone  to  the  tinkle 
of  the  guitar  so  as  to  enrapture  his  friends.  With  practically  no 
study  at  all  he  joined  a  light  opera  company  in  London  for  a 
season,  then  toured  all  over  Great  Britain  taking  a  minor  part 


328  TERESA  CARRENO 

in  that  popular  success,  "The  Merry  Widow."  He  found  but 
slight  reward  in  this  dull  routine,  in  this  music  distasteful  to 
one  who  had  been  fed  on  richer  fare,  but  he  did  like  to  sing. 
That  he  knew. 

Carreno  believed  in  the  possibilities  of  his  voice  and  was  will- 
ing to  meet  the  expense  of  study  with  the  best  masters  Italy  af- 
forded. Giovanni  accordingly  settled  in  Rome  with  friends. 
From  there  he  wrote  to  his  mother:  "The  Signora  is  more  like 
Teresita  than  anybody  else.  She  lets  her  husband  do  the  work. 
She  stays  in  bed  and  complains,  when  it  is  she  who  is  late,  that 
the  dinner  is  cold."  The  expense  of  daily  lessons  and  comfort- 
able living  were  a  great  drain  on  Carreno's  purse.  Leaving  for 
her  second  Australian  tour  she  carefully  set  aside  the  allowance 
she  felt  she  could  afford,  to  be  sent  to  Giovanni  in  monthly  in- 
stallments. To  his  letter  of  thanks  Carreno  answered  encour- 
agingly, understanding! y,  revealingly: 

My  own  beloved  baby  boy:  Your  dear  letters  have  come  and  have 
rejoiced  our  hearts.  .  .  .  You  must  have  been  very  much  "down  in 
the  dumps"  when  you  wrote,  as  Arturo  received  a  letter  by  the  same 
mail  as  yours  to  me  from  Signor  Villa  in  which  he  speaks  most  en- 
couragingly about  your  progress  and  the  development  of  your  voice. 
I  was  very  much  surprised  at  what  you  write. 

Do  not  get  down-hearted,  darling,  as  even  though  your  voice  might 
not  develop  to  be  a  very  wonderful  voice,  the  quality  of  it  is  beautiful, 
and  if  you  become  a  true,  great  artist  you  will  carry  everything  through 
with  your  great  art;  but  it  must  be  truly  great  art!  It  is  not  the 
large  quantity  of  voice  which  makes  the  success:  it  is  the  great  art.  I 
could  name  to  you  a  whole  row  of  great  singers  whose  voices  were 
not  large.  In  fact  some  of  them  had  small  voices  as  for  instance  my 
old  teacher  Delle  Sedie.  .  .  .  Take  Maurel  as  another  example.  His 
voice  was  not  large  and  not  so  very  sympathetic  and  yet  what  a  great 
artist  he  is  even  as  an  old  man  now !  He  must  be  nearly  seventy  years 
old,  yet  he  is  great  as  an  artist,  though  his  voice  is  a  thing  of  the 
past.  Take  Wiillner;  did  he  ever  have  a  voice?  I  don't  think  he  ever 
had  as  much  as  he  has  now.  What  he  possesses  is  mighty  little  but 
more  than  he  ever  had,  and  what  a  career  he  has  made  with  his  great 
art,  his  temperament,  his  wonderful  diction  and  interpretation.  Did 


TERESA  CARRENO  329 

you  ever  hear  him  ?  He  has  made  a  sensation  in  the  United  States  and 
his  houses  have  been  crowded  to  overflowing  for  his  Liederabende 
in  every  city  in  which  he  has  appeared  in  America,  and  that  also 
singing  in  German. 

So,  darling  baby  boy  mine,  do  not  worry  and  do  not  get  discouraged. 
Work  hard  and  aim  at  the  highest  in  our  art  and  you  will  come  out 
with  flying  colors.  It  needs  a  lot  of  work,  of  thought;  in  fact  more 
mind-work  than  technical  work,  a  great  deal  of  self-abnegation  in 
every  respect.  But  the  results,  when  you  have  attained  that  height  in 
art  which  every  true  artist  must  aim  for,  are  most  satisfactory,  and 
one  feels  entirely  compensated  by  the  happiness  which  achieving 
something  of  what  we  hoped  for  in  our  art  brings  to  us.  No  one  knows 
that  better  than  your  mother,  my  darling  blessed  baby  boy!  So  then, 
courage,  and  work  for  the  highest! 

Your  sarcastic  remarks  about  the  money  matters  and  your  being 
afraid  of  being  left  to  suffer  for  want  of  money  in  case  you  are  ill 
I  do  not  think  I  deserve.  Will  you  look  back  into  all  your  life  and  tell 
me  whether  my  help  has  ever  failed  you.  As  you  must  acknowledge 
to  yourself  that  I  have  always  been  there  to  see  to  your  wants  and 
to  get  you  out  of  things  which  were  far  from  being  "wants,"  you  need 
not  fear  that  you  may  now  come  to  grief  for  want  of  my  help.  As 
long  as  I  can  work  and  earn,  and  you  are  not  yet  ready  to  take  up  the 
burden  of  your  self-support  as  an  artist  (which  I  know  how  anxious 
you  are  to  do!)  I  will  be  there,  sweetheart.  If  through  illness  or  acci- 
dent I  am  taken  away,  then  will  be  the  time  when  you  will  not  have 
your  mother  to  look  after  you. 

Arturo  was  delighted  with  your  Italian  letter,  and  we  both  were 
very  happy  to  see  how  much  you  have  learned.  Keep  on  studying  and 
improving,  my  darling.  Languages  are  of  great  importance  and  utility 
in  life,  especially  to  an  artist  who  must  travel  all  over  the  world  to 
earn  his  living. 

I  get  letters  pretty  regularly  from  Teresita  who  is  still  in  Paris  and 
seems  satisfied  with  her  progress.  Let  us  hope  that  she  will  succeed 
with  her  purpose.  Josephine  is  with  her,  as  you  know,  and  is  well,  I 
am  happy  to  say.  Whether  she  also  is  studying  singing  and  acting 
or  not,  that  I  don't  know.  Teresita  does  not  mention  anything  about 
it,  and  as  I  have  not  received  the  bills  for  Josephine's  tuition,  I  suppose 
that  she — Josephine — has  withstood  the  temptation. 

Things  with  us  are  going  less  well  in  a  business  way  than  they  did 


330  TERESA  CARRENO 

three  years  ago,  and  Heaven  knows  they  were  weak  enough.  Of  course 
this  is  quite  entre  nous,  as  it  will  not  do  for  people  to  think  that  I 
am  doing  anything  else  but  brilliant  business.  Should  anyone  ask  you, 
say  that  you  presume  that  business  is  good.  In  almost  every  city  I  have 
had  half  the  houses  which  I  had  the  last  time  I  was  here,  and  as  the 
enthusiasm  is  if  anything  greater  than  before  and  the  press  is  still 
more  enthusiastic  than  ever,  I  can't  explain  it  in  any  other  way  but 
that  the  people  are  not  musical  enough  to  wish  to  hear  me  play  again, 
and  only  those  who  are  really  interested  in  music  and  true  lovers  of 
it  come  to  my  recitals,  and  they  are  a  very  small  number.  So  far  I 
am  not  losing  money — es  fehlte  noch — but  I  am  not  making  any 
more  than  just  expenses.  It  is  rather  discouraging,  isn't  it?  If  the 
enthusiasm  were  not  as  it  is  I  would  give  it  up  and  take  a  rest  before 
going  to  South  Africa.  My  health  is  also  not  as  I  should  like  it,  as  I 
have  all  sorts  of  ailings  which  make  life  not  sweet;  but  as  long  as  it 
remains  within  these  limits  I  suffer  and  go  on  doing  my  different 
duties. 

Back  again  a  year  later  on  Italian  soil,  Carreno  visited  both 
Giovanni  in  Rome  and  Teresita  in  Milan.  From  there  she  wrote 
in  a  letter  that  gives  much  of  her  simple  philosophy: 

It  is  just  one  week  today  since  we  parted  with  you  at  the  station  in 
Rome  and  with  what  a  heavy  and  sad  heart  did  I  leave  you,  my  own 
darling!  I  felt  as  though  I  wanted  either  to  stay  with  my  boy  or  take 
him  along!  What  a  sad  fate  it  is,  after  all,  a  mother's!  She  brings  her 
babies  up  and  they  grow  nearer  and  dearer  to  her  heart  as  the  years 
come  and  go,  and  then  she  must  part  with  them  at  the  time  of  life 
when  age  weighs  upon  her  and  she  needs  them  and  their  love  more 
than  ever.  But  if  her  babies  are  happy  and  contented,  and  she  sees 
that  they  are  making  a  way  towards  a  position  which  may  bring  them 
all  they  themselves  wish  to  possess,  she  cheerfully  submits,  thanks 
God  that  her  darlings  are  doing  well,  and  builds  her  happiness  on  her 
own  unhappiness.  Queer,  is  it  not  ? 

Well,  never  mind !  Such  is  life,  such  is  nature  and  above  all,  such  is 
God's  own  will  and  we  must  submit  and  be  resigned. 

Once  having  bought  real  estate  in  California  Carreno 
thought  seriously  of  investing  in  property  in  Italy.  But  her 
sound  business  instincts  once  more  held  her  back  from  doing 


TERESA  CARRENO  331 

the  imprudent  thing  with  hard-earned  money.  She  writes  to 
Giovanni  soon  after  her  arrival  in  Berlin, 

Thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  your  dear  letter,  the  last  one  received 
only  yesterday  owing  to  the  fact  that  Arturo  and  I  took  a  trip  to 
Oneglia  (on  the  Italian  Riviera)  to  look  at  a  property  which — as 
far  as  the  description  and  the  photographs  which  were  sent  to  us  by 
the  agent  in  Venice  went — seemed  the  very  thing  which  I  have 
wanted  to  buy  as  a  speculation  for  many  years.  ...  In  order  not 
to  keep  you  in  suspense  about  it,  I  will  tell  you  right  now  that  it  was 
not  what  we  expected  and  of  course  we  did  not  buy  it.  It  is  beautifully 
situated  on  a  high  mountain  and  the  view  (all  around  are  olive  tree 
mountains)  is  most  beautiful.  If  I  had  money  I  would  buy  it  at 
once  as  a  place  where  we  could  go  every  summer  for  pleasure  and 
enjoy  the  gorgeous  scenery  and  the  pure  mountain  air!  I  haven't 
the  shekels  and  so  I  will  enjoy  the  high  altitude  of  28  Kurfiirstendamm 
if  I  can't  afford  to  hire  some  place  for  the  summer. 

Another  matter  which  we  have  settled  is  about  our  apartment.  We 
will  stay  right  here  where  we  are  although  I  found  one  apartment 
which  I  would  love  to  have  had,  the  price  of  it  being  1300  m.  more 
than  this  one  per  year,  and  taking  that  into  consideration,  the  large 
expense  of  moving  and  a  very  large  sum  which  would  have  to  be 
spent  to  get  the  other  apartment  in  order,  we  have  weighed  our  poverty 
against  all  other  probabilities  and  possibilities  and  decided  that  the 
most  reasonable  all  around  was  to  remain  where  we  are.  I  know  that 
you  will  not  be  sorry  to  hear  that  we  remain  in  the  old  home. 

We  are  very  sorry  to  hear  about  your  tooth,  my  darling  baby  boy. 
How  on  earth  did  you  break  it?  You  have  such  splendid  teeth  that 
you  ought  to  be  very  careful  of  them.  Did  you  try  to  bite  anyone's 
head  off,  and  was  it  a  head  of  iron  ?  .  .  . 

Enclosed  you  will  find  a  bill  for  one  hundred  marks  which  I  want 
you  to  use  for  a  trip  to  the  sea-side.  You  must  not  stay  in  Rome  during 
these  hot  weeks.  The  sea  air  will  do  your  voice  and  your  general 
health  a  lot  of  good.  So  please,  darling  baby  boy  mine,  take  the  next 
train  after  you  get  this  letter  and  go  anywhere  near  the  sea  where  it 
is  cool  and  where  the  air  is  invigorating.  If  you  need  more  money, 
let  me  know. 

In  August  of  191 1  Giovanni  was  obliged  to  confess  that  he 
had  gambled  away  most  of  his  allowance.  "My  cursed,  my 


332  TERESA  CARRENO 

damned  bad  luck  has  proven  itself  once  more,  and  was  mock- 
ing me,"  he  pleads,  and  adds  as  an  afterthought,  "I  know  I  am 
an  awful  burden  to  you."  Carreno  had  a  temperament  that 
could  flare,  but  in  forgiveness  too  she  was  never  halfhearted. 

The  reason  I  did  not  answer  you  sooner  after  receiving  your  former 
letter  was  that  I  felt  really  grieved  and  awfully  disappointed  in  you. 
I  have  such  confidence  in  your  sound  common  sense  and  in  your 
power  of  will  that  to  learn  that  you  had  again  succumbed  to  the 
temptation  of  gambling  was  a  great  blow  to  me  and  to  my  trust 
in  your  strength  of  will.  Had  I  written  you  under  the  impression 
which  your  letter  made  upon  me  I  would  have  added  to  your  feel- 
ings of  unhappiness,  and  I  preferred  to  wait  until  the  first  impression 
had  somewhat  subsided  and  I  felt  less  unhappy.  As  I  see  how  well 
you  recognize  your  own  folly,  I  am  not  going  to  say  any  more  about 
it.  Let  it  be  a  life-lesson  to  you,  darling  baby  boy! 

Who  is  that  idiot  Fano?  Has  he  the  long  ears  which  befit  his 
brain  condition?  If  he  hasn't  it  is  certainly  a  mistake  of  nature.  He 
should  have  four  legs,  long  ears  and  be  called  by  the  befitting  name 
"Asino." 

I  had  to  smile  at  what  you  write  was  his  opinion  of  your  voice. 
If  you  had  offered  him  a  thousand  Lire  to  get  you  an  engagement  in 
grand  opera  you  would  have  seen  how  much  better  he  found  your 
voice  immediately.  Italy  is  simply  a  debauche  country  in  art,  and  I  shall 
be  glad  when  you  are  ready  to  get  out  of  it. — Don't  you  let  anyone 
interfere  with  your  tone  production  which  is  most  excellent.  You 
really  sing,  not  bellow  as  is  the  fashion  now  in  Italy.  That  jackass 
called  Fano  didn't  think  your  voice  large  enough  to  sing  in  grand 
opera!  The  ignorant  fool!  At  any  rate  you  are  not  the  first  instance 
of  being  told  by  a  manager  that  the  voice  was  not  large  enough :  Your 
father  was  told  the  same  thing:  de  Reszke  (the  tenor)  was  told  to 
give  up  singing  as  he  had  no  voice:  Pauline  Lucca  was  sent  away 
from  a  conservatory  in  Vienna  because  she  had  no  voice,  and  hundred 
other  examples  I  could  cite  you  if  I  only  remembered  them  now. 
As  you  see,  Asini  are  a  common  animal  and  not  specially  Italian. 

I  enclose  here  two  hundred  marks,  all  I  have  with  me,  and  please 
let  me  know  at  once  how  much  money  you  need  to  accomplish  your 
object,  so  that  I  can  tell  Schickler  to  send  it  to  you. 


TERESA  CARRENO  333 

And  so  she  stands  as  fiercely  maternal  as  any  mother  bear, 
ready  to  growl  at  anyone  who  dares  to  attack  her  offspring. 
Giovanni  went  on  singing  from  one  impresario  to  another,  not 
knowing  which  criticism  to  take  to  heart.  According  to  one  his 
placement  was  wrong,  while  another  advised  musical  comedy 
in  America  because  of  its  less  exacting  standards,  and  a  third 
declared  that  "Baritono  Tagliapietra  ha  una  voce  bellissima  ma 
e  nervoso  come  un  diavolo." 

At  last  the  longed-for  chance  was  his.  He  had  a  real  en- 
gagement to  sing  in  //  Barbiere  de  Sevilla  in  Vignola  near 
Modena  on  Christmas  Day.  "You  will  understand  that  your 
baby  boy  is  in  awful  agonies,"  he  wrote.  "Think  of  me  at  nine 
o'clock  on  Sunday."  At  Kurfurstendamm  28  nobody  thought 
of  going  to  bed  before  the  coming  of  the  telegram  for  better  or 
worse.  The  bell  rang;  Carreno  unfolded  the  piece  of  buff 
paper  hardly  daring  to  read  its  message.  The  others  held  their 
breath.  "A  great  success!  It  was  a  great  success,"  shouted  the 
mother. 

Long  after  the  others  had  gone  to  bed  a  happy  mother  sat 
writing  to  her  son  from  the  fullness  of  her  pride: 

My  own  beloved  baby  boy:  Just  now  your  telegram  has  come  and 
our  joy  over  the  good  news  it  has  brought  to  us  I  cannot  tell  you  in 
words.  We  all  have  jumped  for  joy  and  oh!  how  thankful  your  old 
mother  feels  that  this,  your  first  trial  in  your  career  has  brought  you 
satisfaction  and  joy  and  also  the  encouragement  which  the  good  re- 
sults of  this  your  first  appearance,  the  first  step  in  your  career,  must 
be  to  you!  I  am  awfully  happy  over  it,  my  own  darling.  My  prayers 
were  with  you  as  also  my  heart  and  my  thoughts.  I  kept  watching 
the  clock  in  our  dining  room  as  we  sat  there  for  supper,  calculating  the 
time  at  which  you  made  your  entrance  and  followed  you  with  my 
imagination  from  one  scene  to  the  other,  praying  that  success  might 
be  yours.  My  prayers  were  heard,  and  how  grateful  am  I  for  this! 
Keep  on  working,  my  beloved  boy!  Do  not  lose  a  moment  of  study 
and  improvement  and  aim  at  the  highest  pinnacle  of  your  art.  Be  a 
true,  honest,  real  artist,  and  this  can  only  be  achieved  by  hard  and 


334  TERESA  CARRENO 

continued  work.  Nobody  knows  this  better  than  your  mother.  Art 
is  such  infinite  joy  to  the  artist  and  such  a  generous  repayer  for  all 
the  work  we  have  to  perform  and  all  the  sacrifices  we  bring  to  it! 
The  satisfaction  and  the  happiness  that  it  brings  us  in  return  no  one 
but  an  artist  can  know.  Those  who  serve  their  art  honestly  and  not 
for  their  own  glory,  those  are  the  chosen  ones,  the  truly  great,  and 
to  those  only  does  art  give  back  thousandfold  the  compensation 
for  all  their  hours  days,  months,  and  years  of  striving  for  the  highest 
ideal.  With  true  greatness  in  art  also  comes  the  remuneration  of  mak- 
ing yourself  an  independent  position  in  life.  I  have  written  down  now, 
my  beloved  darling,  in  these  lines  my  creed  and  my  experience.  Fol- 
lowing these  firm  convictions  even  though  it  may  not  be  as  great 
as  I  had  dreamed  it  in  my  youth,  has  yet  enabled  me  to  make  my 
way,  establish  for  myself  a  position  in  art,  and  also  has  brought  me 
the  material  remuneration  which  has  helped  me  to  help  my  babies. 
Above  all  this  has  stood  my  firm  belief  in  God  and  in  his  help  without 
which  I  could  have  done  nothing.  Without  God  there  can  be  no 
true,  great  art. 

We  have  missed  you  awfully,  my  own  precious  darling,  and  your 
mother  has  longed  and  longed  for  her  beloved  baby  boy.  Twenty 
times  a  day  at  least  I  wanted  to  write  and  send  you  the  money  to 
come  and  spend  the  Christmas  days  with  us,  and  the  only  thing  which 
kept  me  back  from  doing  it  has  been  the  thought  that  perhaps  in 
coming  away  just  now  you  might  miss  a  chance  of  presenting  your- 
self and  giving  yourself  a  chance  of  making  a  start  in  your  career  and 
judging  for  yourself  on  the  stage  what  you  can  do.  I  am  glad  now  that 
I  withstood  the  temptation  and  sacrificed  my  own  pleasure. 

The  Christmas  has  been  the  same  as  of  old  to  us.  The  tree  is  in 
my  study  here,  the  presents  on  the  table,  pianos,  sofas  just  as  you  so 
well  know  it.  I — well,  darling,  my  heart  was  heavy,  for  you  and 
Teresita  were  not  here.  My  mind  went  back  to  the  years  when  I  had 
you  all  around  me.  I  saw  you  in  my  heart's  memory,  first  with  your 
knickerbockers,  then  your  first  long  trousers,  your  getting  taller  and 
taller,  your  voice  changing,  your  hands  becoming  those  of  a  man, 
the  boy  disappearing,  and  then  I  saw  you  as  you  are,  a  tall,  splendid, 
manly  man.  Teresita,  the  darling  child,  wayward  but  sweet  with  all 
her  great  charm  and  her  beauty  developing,  her  great,  great  talent 
also  developing  and  being  neglected  by  her  and  making  me  so  un- 
happy because  of  this  neglect  of  a  great  gift  which  God  had  given 


TERESA  CARRENO  335 

her — then  all  my  worry  about  her — well,  darling,  this  all  made  my 
heart  feel  heavy. 

Well,  there  is  so  much  that  I  have  which  makes  me  feel  so  deeply 
grateful  to  Him  who  has  granted  it  to  me,  that  I  made  myself  no  end 
of  reproaches  for  allowing  any  other  thoughts  but  those  of  gratitude 
to  occupy  my  thoughts  and  my  heart,  and  when  your  telegram  came 
it  lifted  all  that  was  a  weight  from  my  heart  and  dispelled  all  that 
might  have  been  a  regret  of  the  times  gone  by.  I  am  now  happy  and 
only  gratitude  fills  my  poor  old  heart,  for  though  I  know  well  enough 
what  you  still  have  to  do,  this  good  beginning  is  a  good  omen  and 
makes  me  see  better  than  ever  that  I  made  no  mistake  in  advising  you 
as  I  did  when  you  sang  for  me  in  London  for  the  first  time  some  four 
years  ago  now. 

Arturo  and  I  returned  yesterday  afternoon  from  Budapest  and 
Vienna  where  I  had  been  playing.  Thank  Heaven  that  I  have  ten 
days  of  rest  before  me!  I  have  worked  awfully  hard  in  England  and 
here,  but  I  am  glad  that  I  did  it,  as  it  has  brought  me  good  results.  .  .  . 

Giovanni  did  not  have  the  push  to  follow  up  his  success  at 
once.  He  contented  himself  with  singing  in  small  towns  to 
good  effect  in  Don  Pasquale  and  Faust.  The  ability  to  keep 
his  temper  was  not  one  of  his  qualities,  and  it  did  not  ingratiate 
him  with  an  impresario  to  have  him  slam  the  door  in  his  face. 
It  was  Carreno  who  kept  his  courage  up  through  her  unbreak- 
able faith.  She  offered  him  the  chance  to  sing  in  her  concerts,  to 
study  for  opera  in  Germany,  anything  he  really  wanted,  and  un- 
flaggingly  she  wrote  giving  him  advice  from  the  deep  well  of 
her  own  experience,  as  in  the  letter  from  Lissa: 

Here  is  your  mother  in  a  little  bit  of  a  place  where  she  plays  this 
evening  (Heaven  knows  why!) — and  where  she  feels  just  as  lone- 
some and  as  hungry  for  a  sight  of  her  beloved  son  as  she  does  no 
matter  where  she  is  and  where  she  goes! 

From  your  letter  to  Arturo  I  see  that  you  did  not  get  my  telegram 
on  your  birthday  and  that  makes  me  feel  very  badly.  I  sent  it  on  the 
seventh  in  the  morning  from  Gottingen  (where  I  was  playing  that 
evening)  and  I  cannot  understand  why  it  did  not  reach  you.  I  feel 
awfully  over  it,  for  I  did  so  want  that  you  should  get  a  loving  greeting 
from  me  on  that  day!  My  thoughts  and  my  blessings  were  with  you 


336  TERESA  CARRENO 

as  they  ever  are,  but  I  wanted  to  remind  you  that  your  mother  had 
been  there  at  your  birth  and  was  so  happy  when  she  held  her  baby 
boy  in  her  arms!  God  bless  you,  my  own  darling,  and  keep  healthy 
and  happy  for  many  and  many  years  to  come! — 

I  am  continually  playing  and  travelling.  Since  years  I  have  not  had 
so  much  work  on  hand,  I  mean  so  many  concerts  following  each  other 
here  in  Europe,  and  though  I  am  glad  to  earn  the  money,  it  keeps 
me  a  slave  to  the  work  and  does  not  allow  me  to  do  any  writing  or 
anything  else  which  I  would  like  to  do  excepting  of  course  solitaire 
and  reading  in  the  trains.  .  .  . 

The  notices  about  your  performance  are  on  the  whole,  though 
short,  very  good — I  am  sorry  that  you  did  not  send  the  names  of  the 
paper  and  the  date.  You  must  collect  all  these  notices  with  the  titles 
of  the  paper  and  the  dates,  and  keep  them  to  send  to  the  agents,  as 
they  always  need  them  and  want  them  to  send  to  managers.  You 
must  get  yourself  several  copies  and  keep  one  for  your  own  private 
collection,  one  for  me,  and  the  other  for  the  "Reklame." 

In  talking  to  Leonard  (one  of  my  agents)  about  you  and  your 
success,  he  asked  me  whether  you  did  not  care  to  sing  in  German. 
When  I  told  him  that  you  could  do  so  as  you  spoke  the  language 
perfectly,  he  asked  me  why  you  did  not  come  to  Germany.  He 
thinks  that  you  could  do  well  and  find  an  engagement  in  a  theatre 
here.  I  told  him  that  you  wished  to  make  first  your  career  in  Italian 
Opera  before  you  tried  anything  else.  If  you  came  to  Germany  you 
would  have  to  study  first  with  a  Kapellmeister  the  German  operas. 
Would  you  care  to  do  this  ?  I  must  now  come  to  the  end  of  this  scrawl 
as  I  am  afraid  of  straining  my  hand  and  must  look  out  for  my  recital 
this  evening.  Night  before  last  I  played  in  Posen;  tomorrow  I  play 
in  Breslau  and  on  Wednesday  the  14th  in  Prag.  From  Prag  I  return 
home  to  Berlin  where  I  shall  be  until  the  eighteenth,  starting  on  that 
day  for  Vienna  where  I  play  on  the  19th  and  then  come  home  again  to 
stay  until  the  twenty-seventh.  I  play  with  Nikisch  at  the  Philharmonic 
Concerts  on  the  25th  (public  rehearsal)  and  on  the  26th  (Concert). 
Then  comes  Gewandhaus,  Leipzig,  and  then  I  continue  my  wander- 
ings to  Miinchen,  Halle,  Koln,  Bonn,  Frankfurt  a/M.,  Wiesbaden, 
Neustadt,  Karlsruhe,  Stuttgart,  Saarbriicken,  Greiz,  Leipzig,  Berlin 
(Elite  Concert),  Riga,  Konigsberg,  and  on  the  fourth  of  April  Paris. 
On  the  27th  of  April  I  play  again  in  London  and  on  the  7th  of  May 
I  give  my  first  summer  recital  in  London.  Would  you  like  to  sing 


TERESA  CARRENO  337 

in  my  recital  in  London?  How  jolly  that  would  be!  Let  me  know, 
darling,  if  you  feel  at  all  inclined  to  do  so. 

She  was  not  to  have  the  pleasure  of  presenting  her  son  in 
one  of  her  own  concerts.  Discouraged  that  Giovanni  leaned 
upon  her  more  exactingly  than  ever  and  that  for  three  months 
he  had  not  troubled  to  write,  she  finally  reminds  him  that  she 
is  no  longer  young,  that  she  does  not  feel  well  enough  to  carry 
the  burden  after  the  current  year,  much  to  her  sorrow,  "sor- 
row because  I  feel  my  physical  health  disappearing,  and  sorrow 
because  I  cannot  help  you  and  Teresita  until  you  are  on  top 
of  the  hill.  You  will  have,  both  of  you,  to  do  the  climbing  on 
your  own  feet."  Teresita  had  incurred  her  displeasure  by  leav- 
ing Rome,  her  teacher  Villa,  and  the  singing  career,  to  go  to 
Naples  for  purpose  of  her  own  without  caring  to  notify  her 
mother,  whose  patience  had  reached  the  snapping  point.  How- 
ever, it  was  not  in  her  to  abandon  the  children  to  their  fate.  Her 
threat  had  frightened  them  into  good  behavior,  and  she  went 
on  as  before. 

So  Carreno  with  all  the  hope  of  her  believing  affection  lived 
on  for  the  day  when  Giovanni's  best  would  be  recognized  by 
the  public  and  the  press.  Since  he  preferred  to  remain  in  Italy, 
good  fortune  attend  him  there ! 

For  Carreno  motherhood  had  found  its  fullest  reward  in  the 
two  daughters  of  d'Albert.  They  were  the  ones  to  draw  profit 
from  the  haphazard  upbringing  to  which  Teresita  and  Gio- 
vanni had  been  subjected.  Carreno  had  learned  much  at  their 
expense.  Eugenia  and  Hertha  were  not  burdened  with  the 
handicap  of  poor  inheritance.  Their  mother  resolved  that  they 
should  develop  normally  and  wholesomely,  much  like  any 
other  young  girls  of  their  age. 

When  Carreno  left  Coswig  for  Berlin,  she  entrusted  the  full 
care  for  her  little  girls  to  Fraulein  Krahl,  "die  gute  Krahl."  She 
was  devotion  itself,  beside  being  a  thrifty  housekeeper  and  a 
person  who  knew  her  own  mind.  The  domestic  mechanism 


338  TERESA  CARRENO 

ran  smoothly  under  her  supervision.  But  soon  after  Arturo's 
first  surprise  appearance  it  became  evident  that  he  disliked 
Krahl  as  cordially  as  she  looked  upon  his  coming  as  an  intolera- 
ble intrusion.  His  marriage  brought  the  strain  of  their  relation 
to  early  explosion.  A  slight  error  of  judgment  was  magnified 
in  importance  until  Carreno  was  brought  to  the  point  of  dis- 
missing her  faithful  helper  in  anger.  It  was  not  easy  for  Carreno 
to  sever  her  connection  with  one  who  had  stood  by  while  she 
was  steering  her  way  through  the  rapids  of  despair  to  happier 
waters.  This  shows  through  in  her  parting  letter: 

I  should  like  to  do  everything,  everything  for  you  to  show  you  how 
I  feel  with  you  with  my  whole  heart  and  how  full  I  am  with  gratitude 
for  the  love  you  bear  me  and  my  children.  Only  one  thing  I  cannot 
do,  much  as  I  should  like  to,  that  is  to  keep  you  with  me.  That  is 
quite  impossible  after  all  that  has  happened  between  us.  During  the 
seven  years  that  we  have  been  together  we  have  both  grown  older, 
I  have  even  grown  old  and  the  consideration  which  I  took  for  your 
very  marked  touchiness  and  independence  until  the  last  moment  of 
your  being  here  I  can  take  no  longer,  because  I  must  have  peace  and 
freedom  in  my  home. 

You  say  that  you  have  stood  a  great  deal  from  me.  You  will  never 
know,  for  I  cannot  express  it,  how  much  I  have  suffered  through 
your  lack  of  respect  and  consideration  for  me.  From  no  one  on  earth, 
excepting  those  three  horrible  men  to  whom  I  was  married  before 
I  married  my  present  husband,  have  I  stood  what  I  have  stood  from 
you.  Only  by  thinking  of  your  great  qualities  have  I  managed  to  be 
patient  with  you,  to  find  excuses  for  you  myself  in  my  heart,  and  so 
to  get  along  with  you  without  daily  friction!  You  don't  realize  it, 
because  that  is  the  way  you  are  and  you  can't  help  it;  but  I  can  no 
longer  live  that  way  and  have  grown  too  old  for  that.  Even  if  it  had 
been  my  fault — and  I  admit  that  I  may  be  to  blame — I  must  stay  as 
I  am  and  have  the  right  like  any  person  on  earth  to  do  what  I  like  in 
my  home  and  to  have  my  freedom. 

Believe  me,  my  good  Krahl,  when  I  resign  myself  to  the  sad  neces- 
sity of  giving  you  up,  I  am  the  loser,  not  you!  But,  alas!  there  is  no 
other  way.  Perhaps  in  time  we  shall  come  together  again,  when  the 
past  has  been  forgotten.  I  cannot  tell  you  enough  how  grateful  I  am 


TERESA  CARRENO  339 

for  your  feelings  towards  me  and  my  children.  And  my  friendship,  as 
well  as  the  love  of  the  children,  I  am  certain  you  will  have  for  life, 
no  matter  what  the  circumstances. 

Ever  since  the  separation  d'Albert  had  periodically  threat- 
ened to  take  advantage  of  the  clause  in  the  divorce  agreement 
which  gave  him  the  right  to  visit  their  children.  Each  time  the 
meeting  was  postponed  for  one  reason  or  another.  When  Ar- 
turo  had  taken  his  place  at  Carreno's  side,  d'Albert  again  en- 
tered an  intruding  wedge  through  his  lawyer,  who  wrote  ask- 
ing that  Carreno  dispose  the  minds  of  Eugenia  and  Hertha 
favorably  for  the  coming  of  their  father.  To  this  she  replied: 

It  is  unfortunately  not  possible  to  comply  with  Herr  dAlbert's  wish 
and  that  for  educational  as  well  as  health  reasons.  Herr  dAlbert 
seems  to  forget  that  his  children  know  nothing  of  him,  and  that  he  is 
a  perfect  stranger  to  the  little  ones.  If  I  may  remind  him  that  he  left 
his  children  when  the  elder  was  two  years  old  and  the  younger  only 
five  months,  he  can  explain  to  himself  why  the  children  know  nothing. 
I  have  thought  it  right  to  keep  them  as  long  as  possible  in  ignorance 
of  the  fact  that  their  father  left  them  without  any  reason  which 
could  justify  him  in  their  eyes.  The  children  are  so  sensitive  that  I 
let  them  go  nowhere  for  fear  of  their  becoming  ill  in  air  that  is  not 
quite  pure.  Therefore  I  must  insist  that  the  children  meet  their  father 
either  at  your  house  as  you  so  kindly  suggest  or  at  that  of  Frau 
Direktor  Wolff,  and  that  whosoever  accompanies  them  stays  with 
the  children  during  the  whole  of  the  time.  But  for  the  moment 
Eugenia  has  a  bad  attack  of  bronchitis  and  Hertha  too  is  ill  with  a  cold, 
so  that  the  doctor  has  strictly  forbidden  their  going  outdoors. 

This  visit  was  put  off  again,  and  in  reply  to  another  letter 
repeating  d' Albert's  wish  that  the  children  be  notified  of  his 
existence,  Carreno  wrote  once  more.  She  does  not  know  how  to 
prepare  the  children  for  seeing  the  father  who  until  now  has 
treated  them  with  disregard.  "Lies  are  unfortunately  much  too 
hard  for  me,  and  are  neither  to  my  taste  nor  in  my  character. 
He  must  find  a  way  to  their  hearts  himself  and  obtain  their 
pardon."  To  Carreno's  extreme  relief  this  visit  also  did  not 
materialize. 


340  TERESA  CARRENO 

Not  until  both  little  girls  were  away  at  school  in  Neu  Wat- 
zum  in  1904  were  they  to  make  the  acquaintance  of  their  father. 
At  least  nothing  had  been  done  to  prejudice  them  against 
d' Albert,  and  at  first  they  were  thrilled  to  go  to  this  intimate 
stranger  who  had  known  them  well  before  they  knew  them- 
selves. In  their  imagination  he  was  a  kind  of  Siegfried  as  stately 
as  their  mother.  They  knocked  at  his  door  in  a  hotel  of  Braun- 
schweig with  eager  knuckles. 

The  high-pitched,  weak  "Herein"  was  not  the  rich,  deep- 
voiced  welcome  they  expected,  nor  did  this  narrow-chested, 
dwarflike  person,  who  looked  at  them  peeringly  through  com- 
pressed slits,  come  up  in  any  way  to  the  ideal  of  their  imagina- 
tion. Worst  of  all  he  wore  his  hair  long  and  an  unfashionably 
broad-brimmed  hat  on  top  of  it.  Eugenia  especially  dreaded  the 
moment  when  she  would  have  to  present  him  to  her  school- 
mates. Disappointment  kept  them  unresponsive,  and  d' Albert  on 
his  part  was  at  a  loss  to  find  words  to  reach  these  hostile  little 
girls  whose  only  wish  from  the  moment  of  their  entrance  was 
to  be  gone  again.  Nevertheless,  from  then  on  the  father  made  a 
point  of  keeping  in  closer  touch  with  his  daughters,  partly  be- 
cause he  took  pleasure  in  annoying  Carreno  whenever  he  could. 
Eugenia  little  by  little  cultivated  a  certain  liking  for  him.  Her- 
tha  with  instinctive  loyalty  to  her  mother  held  herself  strictly 
aloof. 

Although  they  dressed  alike  in  their  blue  Peter  Thompsons, 
aprons  and  hair  ribbons  helped  to  accentuate  the  difference  be- 
tween the  two  sisters.  Eugenia's  hair  was  dark  with  a  coppery 
sheen  as  the  sun  fell  upon  it.  There  was  a  glint  of  copper,  too, 
in  her  brown  eyes.  In  temperament  and  looks  she  vaguely  sug- 
gested a  much  improved  d'Albert.  Blue-eyed  Hertha's  hair  was 
golden.  Her  profile  and  her  fearless,  straight  thinking  were  her 
mother's.  Eugenia  was  the  more  reserved,  Hertha  sunnily  out- 
going. Every  gesture  was  ample.  The  motion  of  her  walk  took 
in  all  of  the  surrounding  territory  as  she  threw  her  body  from 
side  to  side,  not  to  make  faster  progress  as  much  as  just  for  joy 
in  action.  When  something  amused  her  she  threw  back  her 


TERESA  CARRENO  341 

head,  opened  her  mouth  wide,  and  shouted  aloud.  There  were 
no  mezzotints  in  Hertha's  makeup. 

Of  the  two  Eugenia  was  the  more  practical,  the  more  con- 
ventional. It  bothered  her  that  she  was  almost  the  smallest  one 
in  the  whole  school,  that  her  pet  name  was  "Liliputchen."  No 
exercise  was  too  hard  provided  it  might  help  to  make  her 
taller,  while  Hertha  in  a  halfhearted  way  did  what  she  could 
to  grow  thin.  For  her  it  added  to  the  zest  of  life  to  shock  others 
by  her  antics,  although  Eugenia,  the  conformist,  called  her  to 
task  for  it  with  a  reproving  "Aber  Hertha!"  Eugenia  would  have 
had  her  mother  be  like  the  ordinary  mothers  of  her  friends. 
Once  she  called  her  to  task  for  addressing  the  letters  she  wrote 
to  them  jointly  to  "Frauleinen"  instead  of  "Fraulein."  She  went 
further,  admonishing  her:  "But  when  you  come  to  the  station 
to  meet  us,  please  don't  call  our  names  out  loud,  for  everyone 
will  repeat  them  then,  and  say  them  so  very  wrongly  because 
they  can't  pronounce  them.  But  please  above  all  don't  wear  that 
jacket,  you  know  which  one  I  mean,  the  one  I  can't  bear.  Even 
if  it  is  fashionable,  it  is  unfashionable  for  me."  At  another  time, 
upon  hearing  of  a  rumor  that  d'Albert  will  marry  again,  she 
exclaims  in  despair :  "I  feel  so  ashamed  of  my  father.  Why  can't 
he  ever  think  of  his  children  who  carry  his  name?  It  is  a  dis- 
grace to  us,  especially  in  Berlin,  where  people  are  so  particular 
about  the  names."  Being  the  children  of  artists  had  its  shadows. 

All  that  was  less  vital  to  Hertha.  She  was  at  the  age  when 
everything  was  either  "tragisch"  or  "pompos."  When  she  heard 
her  father's  opera  Flauto  Solo  in  Braunschweig  that  was  pom- 
pbs,  when  she  had  a  poor  report  it  was  tragisch,  but  it  did  not 
keep  her  unhappy  for  long.  What  really  upset  her  was  apt  to  be 
something  quite  different.  "When  other  people  write  'Berlin 
mother,'  then  it  is  absolutely  necessary  that  I  write  something 
also  in  that  style,"  and  she  begins  a  letter:  "My  own  darling 
Australian,  American,  European  mother."  From  the  depths  of 
her  affection  she  complains:  "It's  already  bad  when  you  can't 
be  there  Christmas,  Easter  or  New  Year,  but  when  it  comes  to 
birthdays,  my  own  private  days,  it  is  bad  luck!"  Hertha's  letters 


342  TERESA  CARRENO 

are  generally  playful.  She  is  fond  of  teasing  her  mother:  "I 
nearly  play  as  well  as  you  do.  I  thought  you  might  get  jealous, 
so  I  never  practice  more  than  two  hours.  I  might  play  better  if 
I  did,  so  I  won't.  I  play  your  waltz  now,  the  one  you  composed 
in  Sidney  [the  "Valse  Gayo,"  last  of  Carreno's  published  com- 
positions] only  it  sounds  a  little  different." 

Whether  they  were  at  school  in  Wolfenbiittel,  in  Chicago, 
with  their  governess  in  Melbourne  and  in  Durban,  or  on  vaca- 
tion in  Oberstdorf,  Ober-Salzberg,  and  Friedrichroda,  the  lives 
of  Hertha  and  Eugenia  ran  parallel.  They  quarreled  as  sisters 
do.  "You  know  that  contradicting  each  other  is  the  family 
crest,"  confesses  Hertha.  But  let  anybody  dare  to  attack  one, 
the  other  was  sure  to  take  a  formidable  stand  in  her  defense. 

Eugenia  was  a  versatile  person.  Her  talents  were  many  but 
not  driving.  She  played  nicely — her  hands  were  curiously  like 
her  father's — could  cook  a  good  dinner,  and  sew  a  neat  seam, 
and  play  a  game  of  tennis  of  which  any  young  girl  might  be 
proud.  In  fact  she  became  expert  in  sports  of  many  kinds,  of 
which  horseback-riding  was  her  favorite.  In  191 1  d' Albert  made 
her  a  present  of  a  horse,  as  much  for  the  pleasure  of  adding  its 
upkeep  to  Carreno's  already  heavy  burdens  as  for  that  of  de- 
lighting his  namesake.  Eugenia  was  the  persona  grata  of  the 
moment.  All  the  good  things  of  life  appealed  to  her  strongly, 
but  she  had  days  of  reflective  melancholy  in  which  she  took  her 
future  under  microscopic  consideration,  threatening  by  turns 
to  become  a  nurse,  a  suffragette,  or  a  nun.  After  her  confirma- 
tion in  the  Protestant  Kaiser  Wilhelm  Gedachtniskirche  she 
fell  naturally  into  the  groove  waiting  for  her  coming,  one 
which  suited  her  well  and  eased  Carreno's  shoulders.  Eugenia 
who  had  a  tendency  toward  order  and  thrift  soon  made  herself 
at  home  in  the  intricacies  of  the  art  of  keeping  house.  She  also 
became  her  mother's  right  hand  in  initiating  new  pupils  into 
the  technical  fundamentals  of  Carreno's  way  of  teaching. 

Hertha's  leanings  and  gifts  were  artistic  along  two  possible 
lines  not  incompatible  with  each  other.  She  could  cultivate 
painting,  drawing,  or  singing  with  promising  result,  and  she 


TERESA  CARRENO  343 

studied  earnestly  but  with  that  exuberance  which  makes  work 
seem  play. 

Carreno  could  look  with  just  pride  upon  these  two  daughters. 
She  had  brought  them  to  this  point  by  giving  them  the  ad- 
vantages of  discipline,  education,  and  travel.  Her  hopes  for 
them  were  of  the  highest.  "I  must  go  on  working  until  Hertha 
is  married,"  she  reminded  herself. 

In  her  eldest  daughter  Carreno  was  never  to  take  much  com- 
fort. As  soon  as  she  heard  of  the  death  of  Mrs.  Bischoff  in  1902, 
she  sent  word  to  Emilita  through  Mrs.  MacDowell  that,  if  she 
needed  it,  a  mother's  love  still  existed  for  her.  It  was  not  until 
three  years  later  that  Emilita  asked  her  mother  for  a  meeting 
in  Frankfurt,  where  Carreno  happened  to  have  a  concert  en- 
gagement. Clear-sighted  Arturo  put  in  his  word  of  warning. 
He  was  sure  it  would  prove  to  be  another  trouble  escaped  from 
her  Pandora's  box  already  overfilled.  Carreno  refused  to  listen. 
All  at  once  she  felt  she  could  not  wait  until  the  appointed  time 
to  see  this  child,  now  a  married  woman  thirty-one  years  old. 
Her  incorrigibly  maternal  nature  prevailed,  and  with  a  singing 
of  the  heart  she  made  ready  for  the  meeting. 

It  did  not  measure  up  to  expectation.  Arturo  was  right.  The 
motives  which  brought  Emilita  to  the  point  of  seeking  out  her 
mother  were  not  alone  the  promptings  of  affection.  Before  an 
hour  had  passed  it  was  obvious  that  "Lita"  looked  upon  her 
mother  as  the  plentiful  source  of  wealth  from  which  she  too 
might  draw  her  share.  Instead  of  the  5,000  marks  for  which 
she  frankly  asked  on  this  afternoon  she  left  with  500,  and  in 
parting  begged  Carreno  to  keep  the  meeting  secret  for  fear  of 
its  reaction  upon  Sauret,  her  father.  The  mother  in  Carreno 
could  survive  even  this  disappointment.  She  recognized  under- 
standing^ that  Lita  had  been  spoiled  by  an  overindulgent  fos- 
ter mother,  whose  fortune  she  had  inherited  and  brought  to  her 
husband,  a  young  captain  of  the  German  army.  This  money 
had  depreciated,  leaving  barely  enough  for  living  in  the  style 
demanded  by  army  etiquette.  Feeling  herself  not  without  re- 


344  TERESA  CARRENO 

sponsibility  toward  her  daughter  Carreno  decided  to  take  on 
Lita  and  her  many  wants.  Every  letter  kept  her  duly  informed 
of  them,  even  reminding  the  grandmother  of  the  birthdays  of 
her  three  grandchildren,  of  the  most  acceptable  presents  for 
every  occasion.  Naively  she  asked  for  jewelry  and  a  fur  coat 
for  herself,  for  money  that  would  spell  a  vacation  for  her  son 
Walter.  Or  Lisbeth  needed  a  change;  it  would  be  ideal  if  she 
could  visit  at  Kurfurstendamm  28.  Even  as  Carreno  tried  to 
gratify  Lita's  inexhaustible  wishes  to  the  limit  of  her  powers, 
a  voice  cried  within  her — "this  child  is  none  of  mine." 

Taking  all  in  all  Carreno,  surveying  the  past  decade  from  the 
perspective  of  the  jubilee  year  could  find  them  good,  could  still 
write :  "I  am  so  grateful  to  our  good  Father  in  Heaven  that  He 
has  granted  me  so  much  joy  in  life  which  has  helped  me  so 
much  to  stand  the  deep  sufferings  which  I  have  also  had  in  it." 


As  Carreno  turned  from  the  clear  vista  of  her  past  to  the  future 
which  Providence  in  its  kindliness  and  wisdom  shrouded  in 
mist,  she  knew  that  for  years  her  chief  suffering  had  come  from 
being  inadequate  to  the  task  of  helping  Teresita  realize  her  great 
potentialities.  After  the  strain  and  excitement  of  her  anniversary 
year  came  the  inevitable  reaction. 

Angered  by  Teresita's  active  opposition  to  her  wishes  and  by 
her  neglect  in  writing — "she  only  remembers  my  existence  when 
she  is  in  trouble  and  needs  my  help  and  the  only  address  she 
gives  me,  her  mother,  is  c/o  Cooks" — ,  Carreno  informs  Gio- 
vanni that  Teresita  is  not  to  be  allowed  to  spend  the  summer  in 
Salzberg.  "My  health  has  to  be  considered,  as  it  is  necessary  for 
you  all  that  I  can  keep  on  working  and  Teresita  would  make 
me  so  ill  that  I  would  be  totally  unfit  for  my  next  winter's  work 
or  to  give  the  many  lessons  which  I  shall  have  to  give  in  Salzberg 
in  order  to  be  able  to  pay  the  expenses  of  our  living  there.  If  I 
did  not  take  the  pupils  we  could  not  allow  ourselves  the  summer 
in  Salzberg  or  anywhere  else  but  at  home." 

A  month  later  she  writes  again : 

You  will  find  here  if  they  all  come,  twenty  pupils  of  mine.  How 
is  this  for  a  rest?  It  is  not  much  of  a  rest,  you  will  say,  and  I  know 
it;  but  we  could  not  have  been  able  to  afford  the  trip  here  and  the 
hiring  of  the  Villa,  and  in  one  way  we  have  a  rest,  for  we  all  can 
enjoy  this  beautiful  air,  and  I  know  that  we  need  not  worry  about 
the  expenses  connected  with  our  being  here. — Eugenia  and  Herta 
will  be  as  happy  as  can  be  to  see  you  and  are  both  looking  forward  to 
your  visit.  They  both  love  you  dearly,  and  if  you  teased  them  less 
their  happiness  would  be  untroubled.  Please,  darling  baby  boy,  do  not 
tease  them  so  much  and  for  my  sake  leave  the  question  of  fathers  at 
rest.  I  wish  you  all,  my  beloved  darlings,  would  only  remember  me 
in  the  parent  question,  and  as  I  have  been  both  mother  and  father 
to  you  all,  it  ought  to  be  easy  for  you  all  to  forget  that  there  ever  was 
a  father  in  question. 

Carreno  went  ahead  for  a  few  days  of  solitude  on  the  Salzberg 
before  the  influx  of  family  and  pupils.  Their  sixteen  pianos  were 


346  TERESA  CARRENO 

distributed  in  every  available  peasant  house  on  the  mountain  side. 
All  was  blissfully  peaceful.  The  clouds  that  shrouded  the  sum- 
mits overlooking  Berchtesgaden  nestling  below  were  not  yet 
clouds  of  war.  No  passport  was  needed  to  climb  the  road  leading 
up  the  mountain,  and  Carreno  enjoyed  her  walks  in  the  rain 
which  the  salty  mountain  was  miraculously  able  to  soak  in,  as 
hour  upon  hour  it  descended  in  drenching  sheets.  The  Villa 
Waltenberger  cuddled  against  the  woods  halfway  up  the  steep 
incline.  This  was  the  third  return  to  its  harboring  walls,  almost 
as  congenial  to  Carreno's  soul  as  Oberstdorf  and  the  Pertisau  of 
other  years.  From  the  toy  village  at  the  foot  of  the  mountain 
through  wooded  paths,  across  flower-dotted  fields  to  the  breath- 
taking view  of  higher  mountains  still,  dusted  with  snow,  every- 
thing awakened  a  health-giving  response  in  Carreno.  But  this 
year  the  twinges  of  rheumatism  were  particularly  stubborn.  The 
pupils  arrived  before  Carreno  was  in  shape  for  teaching. 

One  evening  the  family  was  finishing  a  late  supper.  From  far 
away,  then  closer  and  circling  around  the  house,  came  the  sound 
of  a  guitar.  It  was  "poor  old  Josephine"  who  knew  even  before  a 
tenor  voice  broke  into  an  Italian  folk  song,  who  it  was  that  so  ro- 
mantically announced  himself  in  a  serenade:  "It's  Giovanni,"  she 
called  out  and  hurried  as  fast  as  her  shuffling  feet  would  allow  to 
open  the  door.  And  with  the  coming  of  Giovanni,  the  romantic 
reincarnation  of  the  troubadour,  life  had  new  zest  for  the  Car- 
reno colony.  Whether  he  was  staging  a  mock  auction  of  one  of 
Hertha's  latest  paintings  or  singing  "Vorrei  bacciarti"  in  his 
melting  baritone  from  the  balcony  railing  to  the  accompaniment 
of  his  beribboned  guitar,  everybody  stopped  to  listen.  His  jovial- 
ity was  contagious,  but  though  it  could  raise  his  mother's  spirits, 
it  was  not  effective  against  rheumatism  and  gout.  Carreno  de- 
cided one  morning  that  she  must  go  at  once  to  Italy  for  the  good 
of  her  health,  and  it  was  a  dejected  group  of  pupils  who  watched 
the  vanishing  train  carrying  their  teacher  away,  the  one  for 
whose  instructions  some  had  come  from  Finland,  some  from 
Australia,  some  from  Turkey.  Would  she  come  back  in  two 
weeks  as  she  had  promised?  Those  who  chose  to  stay  on  the 


TERESA  CARRENO  347 

chance  of  a  return  bombarded  the  Villa  Waltenberger  daily  for 
news  of  Carreno's  health,  of  her  plans,  and  drowned  their  disap- 
pointment in  dogged  hard  work  in  the  morning,  in  rainy  walks 
to  Berchtesgaden  at  tea  time,  and  in  games  of  charades  or  cards  at 
night.  They  had  their  reward.  Carreno  rejoined  her  family  at 
the  end  of  the  third  week  almost  her  old,  energetic  self;  but  the 
relief  was  only  temporary. 

News  came  by  cable  one  morning  of  the  death  of  Mrs.  Wat- 
son, in  which  her  husband  had  preceded  her  the  year  before.  A 
few  days  later,  like  a  message  from  another  world,  came  her 
parting  letter,  adding  a  second  shock  to  the  impact  of  the  first. 
In  spite  of  a  trip  alone  to  Oberstdorf  before  the  beginning  of  the 
season  Carreno  was  in  no  condition  to  face  the  exigencies  of  an 
American  tour,  always  so  much  more  arduous  than  a  European 
one. 

There  was  always  Teresita  to  add  to  her  depression.  Teresita 
had  been  ill.  As  soon  as  she  was  able  to  leave  the  nuns  in  the 
nursing  home  in  Florence,  Carreno  sent  her  to  Lucerne  to  regain 
her  strength.  There  too  she  could  not  find  rest.  Penniless  as  usual 
Teresita  borrowed  from  a  casual  acquaintance,  played  the  races, 
and  won  enough  for  third-class  transportation  to  Brussels.  From 
there  she  called  to  her  mother  for  help,  and  once  more  not  in 
vain. 

Carreno  on  tour  in  England  visited  her  daughter  in  London 
before  embarking  for  the  United  States  in  the  fall  of  1913.  She 
listened  once  again  to  Teresita's  distorted  views  of  life,  heard 
herself  blamed  for  not  ever  having  tried  to  understand  her,  for 
being  thirty  thousand  years  behind  the  times  in  her  outlook.  Af- 
ter Teresita  had  left  the  hotel  that  evening,  Carreno  let  herself 
go  in  one  of  her  most  severe  attacks  of  hysterics;  then,  pulling 
herself  together,  she  went  for  a  long  walk,  not  knowing  or  car- 
ing where  it  took  her.  Teresita,  too,  spent  the  next  day  in  tears, 
then  tried  her  best  to  placate  her  mother  in  a  lovable,  contrite 
letter.  She  deplores  the  trouble  she  is  always  causing,  vows  to  do 
better,  and  advises  her  mother  to  take  bromides  instead  of  Fel- 
low's Syrup.  Unable  to  see  herself  as  the  cause  of  her  mother's 


348  TERESA  CARRENO 

ill  health,  Teresita  preferred  to  attribute  it  to  lack  of  oil  in  the 
air  of  Europe.  She  should,  prescribed  Teresita,  wrap  up  in  wool 
soaked  in  oil  to  grease  her  joints  "still  tuned  to  the  oily  air  of 
Caracas."  Might  it  be  that  a  potential  doctor  or  nurse  was  lost 
in  her  as  in  her  mother  ? 

With  a  large  sum  of  money  at  her  disposal  once  more  Teresita 
felt  better.  She  would,  she  decided,  return  to  the  piano,  give  con- 
certs, and  teach,  but  not  in  London.  And  so  before  the  new  year 
made  its  entrance  Teresita  was  once  more  discussing  her  future 
with  her  brother,  this  time  in  Milan.  Before  tea  was  served  she 
was  sure  she  wished  to  try  her  luck  as  an  artist  in  Greece,  and  as 
she  buttered  her  toast  she  changed  to  the  idea  of  teaching  the 
secrets  of  Carreno  technique  from  a  South  American  angle  in 
Paris,  then  before  the  cups  were  removed  she  dreamed  herself  in 
Algiers.  When  they  parted,  neither  knew  what  she  really  meant 
to  do. 

For  Carreno  herself  the  winter  of  1913  could  not  have  begun 
worse.  The  sea  voyage  was  not  long  enough  to  soothe  nerves 
jangled  askew.  Soon  after  landing  Carreno  fell  easy  prey  to  one 
of  her  chronic  colds  which  developed  into  influenza  and  then 
into  bronchitis.  Physicians  called  in  for  advice  in  nearly  every  city 
en  route  tried  one  and  all  to  persuade  her  to  abandon  the  tour. 
They  made  graphic  pictures  of  the  dangers  of  a  complete  nervous 
breakdown,  and  did  their  best  to  frighten  her  into  taking  a  year 
at  least  of  concertless,  studentless  rest.  It  sounded  appealing.  But 
what  of  her  manager  Mr.  Adams  of  the  Wolfsohn  bureau,  who 
had  worked  hard  and  successfully  to  fill  her  calendar  of  dates! 
What  of  the  John  Church  Company  who  were  counting  upon 
her  to  lend  the  weight  of  her  approval  and  prestige  to  the  Everett 
piano  which  she  was  playing  in  her  concerts !  No,  she  would  see 
it  through  to  the  end.  By  a  sheer  miracle  she  survived  and  that 
with  canceling  only  one  single  concert  in  all  of  the  more  than 
fifty  on  her  roster. 

Neither  public  nor  critics  knew  that  she  was  feeling  unfit, 
dragging  her  way  by  force  of  will  from  town  to  town.  On  the 


On 


fc 


M 


TERESA  CARRENO  349 

platform  she  still  appeared  the  Walkiire  whom  mortal  ills  could 
not  touch.  There  was  in  her  playing  a  new  aura  of  detached, 
visionary  unworldliness  that,  if  it  no  longer  drove  her  hearers 
to  excess  with  excitement  as  of  old,  did  bring  whole  audiences 
to  their  feet  in  spontaneous  expression  of  the  veneration  which 
awed  and  united  them  for  this  rare  moment.  They  unconsciously 
felt  in  her  music  as  they  listened  the  wisdom  and  measure  of 
long,  rich  living.  It  pointed  the  way  with  the  clarity  of  deep 
insight  to  purer  heights  of  serene  enjoyment  beyond  the  knowl- 
edge of  man,  but  not  beyond  his  capacity  of  feeling.  Her  appeal 
was  perhaps  less  for  the  young  than  before.  Those  whose  lives 
had  passed  the  middle  distance,  or  those  who  had  through  suffer- 
ing lived  much  in  a  short  span  of  time  understood  her  meaning 
best.  There  were  some  who,  openly  disappointed,  missed  the  fire 
of  the  old  Carreno,  and  did  not  know  how  to  find  the  new  in 
her  more  softly  voiced  world-mindedness.  Even  the  shopworn 
"Liebestraum"  in  her  hands  became  a  thing  of  elusive  loveliness. 
People  stopped  breathing  in  order  not  to  lose  the  point  where 
sound  merged  into  silence,  whose  very  emptiness  was  charged 
with  significance.  Many  who  came  to  hear  Carreno  with  the  sole 
idea  of  being  entertained  left  with  the  feeling  of  having  shared 
in  a  religious  experience.  Carreno  and  the  music  she  played  were 
still  indivisibly  one  and  the  same.  She  had  never  tried  to  look  or  to 
be  younger  than  she  was.  So  in  simple  honesty  she  disdained  to  as- 
sume the  dash  and  passion  natural  to  her  in  the  days  of  her  prime. 
Instead  she  rose  on  lighter  wings  into  the  rarer  atmosphere  of 
clairvoyance  where  now  she  felt  at  home.  No  less  honestly  could 
she  say  now  as  before:  "I  am  Carreno!"  So  Dr.  Walter  Niemann 
comparing  the  Carreno  of  the  Eighties  with  the  Carreno  in  1913 
understandingly  drew  her  musical  likeness  in  an  article  pub- 
lished in  Refyam's  Universum,  in  honor  of  her  sixtieth  birthday. 
(See  Postlude.) 

In  high  spirits  and  proud  of  the  crowning  of  her  efforts  with 
good  returns  and  better  health,  Carreno  looked  forward  eagerly 
to  her  home  and  her  children.  Hertha  and  Eugenia  had  been 
leading  busy  and  normal  lives  at  Kurfurstendamm  28,  Hertha 


350  TERESA  CARRENO 

dividing  her  interests  between  painting  and  singing.  The  latter 
she  seriously  considered  adopting  as  her  profession  until  a  cable 
from  Carreno  demanded  that  she  stop  her  lessons  at  once.  A 
casual  remark,  quite  unintentionally  made,  had  frightened  her. 
Hertha's  voice,  Eugenia  had  written,  sounded  husky.  Just  that 
was  enough  to  make  the  mother  fear  that  the  teaching  might  be 
at  fault.  It  never  occurred  to  either  of  the  younger  daughters  to 
disobey.  There  was  nothing  for  it  but  to  concentrate  with  double 
energy  on  painting  in  which  Hertha  had  been  making  note- 
worthy progress.  Eugenia  meanwhile  kept  house,  studied,  and 
taught  in  preparation  for  her  mother's  homecoming. 

The  season  was  at  last  safely  over,  and  Carreno  as  a  concession 
to  her  physicians  gave  up  teaching  for  the  summer.  Trouble 
loomed  on  the  horizon  with  new  and  dramatic  variations  on  the 
Teresita  theme.  From  Milan  she  had  set  out  in  search  of  her 
Eldorado  and  found  it  in  the  warmer,  freer  air  of  Kram  near 
Tunis.  She  wrote,  filled  with  new  peace,  of  the  happiness  she 
had  found  in  her  little  apartment  of  the  Arab  quarter  near  the 
sea.  Carreno's  hair  rose  as  she  read.  The  European  colony  might 
be  shocked,  the  police  might  look  upon  her  with  suspicion,  al- 
though a  perfectly  respectable  Neapolitan  had  come  with  her 
as  her  companion;  Teresita  for  once  was  in  her  element.  "I  am 
really  happy  in  the  bottom  of  my  heart,"  her  letter  fairly  shouted. 
And  not  the  least  of  her  reasons  for  this  was  Mohammed,  a 
romantic  young  Arab  ten  years  her  junior  in  front  of  whose 
cabin  she  went  swimming  every  day.  "There  is  youth  for  you," 
she  exulted  and  described  to  her  horrified  mother  how  Moham- 
med, angry  at  not  being  able  to  open  the  door  of  his  cabin, 
smashed  the  window  and  lifted  her  through  it  in  his  arms.  Then 
she  capped  all  with  the  climax  of  a  Liszt  "Polonaise":  "He  is 
just  the  sort  of  one  I  should  like  to  bring  to  you  as  a  son-in-law." 
Carreno  turned  cold  at  heart  while  Teresita's  letter  warbled  on. 
Little  does  it  matter  to  her  that  they  meet  only  on  the  grounds 
of  very  limited  French  on  his  part,  nor  does  she  care  especially 
that  he  already  has  four  wives,  since  he  makes  no  secret  of  it. 


TERESA  CARRENO  351 

The  dread  with  which  her  mother  awaited  the  next  letter  can 
well  be  imagined.  Could  there  be  worse  news  still  ?  There  could 
and  there  was. 

Teresita  had  fallen  critically  ill  with  an  eruption  and  a  fever 
which  made  her  turn  entirely  black.  Her  Neapolitan  companion 
took  the  first  possible  conveyance  for  home.  It  was  Mohammed 
who  cared  for  her  and  brought  a  nurse  from  Tunis.  To  make 
matters  worse  yet,  the  police  were  asking  for  her  birth  certificate 
and  Teresita  frantically  wrote  to  her  mother  for  it.  Meanwhile  a 
young  German  doctor,  the  same  whose  life  Teresita  had  saved 
from  the  point  of  a  hostile  dagger,  recommended  her  to  the  good 
offices  of  the  German  Consul.  She  begged  to  return  home,  to 
which  her  mother  cabled  an  emphatic  "no."  From  Malta,  which 
she  managed  to  reach  without  her  birth  certificate,  she  wrote  one 
of  her  most  pitiful,  childish  letters  in  her  almost  illegible  hand : 

...  I  really  do  not  understand  you.  I  expect  somebody  has  been 
telling  lies  about  me  to  you,  and  of  course  as  usual  you  believe  them 
— just  as  you  used  to  believe  Fraulein  Krahl.  ...  I  have  quite  out- 
grown the  influence  Naples  had  on  me.  Please  be  kind  and  change 
your  mind.  I  want  so  much  to  come  to  you.  I  want  to  work  and  study 
with  you  and  give  lessons.  I  give  you  my  word  of  honor  that  if  you 
take  me  back  I  will  behave  beautifully  and  you  will  not  regret  it. 

Carreno  replied  with  an  ample  cheque.  For  the  sake  of  her 
own  health  she  could  not  afford  another  set-to  with  Teresita. 

Meanwhile  the  threatening  rumble  of  war  was  becoming  more 
and  more  insistent  until  one  day  it  exploded  with  catastrophic 
detonation.  It  caught  Carreno,  returned  home  from  her  Amer- 
ican tour,  alone  in  Oberstdorf .  In  the  heat  of  mobilization  it  took 
Arturo  Rvt  days  to  reach  his  wife  from  Berlin,  and  not  until  the 
end  of  September  was  Carreno  in  possession  of  the  passport 
without  which  henceforth  one  could  not  live  or  leave  anywhere 
in  Europe. 

Once  more  at  home,  Arturo  told  her  of  a  new  disaster  which 
had  overwhelmed  Teresita.  She  had  left  Malta  on  the  Trieste, 
an  Austrian  vessel,  on  July  31,  1914,  which,  upon  declaration  of 


352  TERESA  CARRENO 

war,  put  in  at  Bone  harbor,  Algeria.  In  Batna  near-by  that  very 
evening  Teresita  was  arrested  as  a  spy,  not  being  in  possession  of 
any  papers  of  identification,  not  knowing  whether  she  should 
consider  herself  an  American  or  an  English  citizen,  whether  she 
were  divorced  or  not.  Things  looked  hopeless  for  her  in  the  dirty 
dungeon  she  shared  with  two  German  wild-beast  tamers  and 
two  Arab  women,  one  who  had  killed  her  husband,  the  other 
her  child.  The  fact  that  she  was  in  command  of  the  German 
language,  that  she  had  known  the  German  consul  in  Tunis,  and 
worse,  that  she  had  landed  just  before  the  Germans  shelled  Bone 
harbor,  militated  against  her.  Her  picture  appeared  in  the  papers 
as  that  of  the  one  who  had  given  the  signal  which  launched  the 
attack.  From  hour  to  hour  Teresita  expected  to  be  shot.  Happily 
she  managed  to  get  a  message  through  to  her  old  singing  teacher, 
Signor  Villa,  who  sent  it  on  to  Berlin,  and  soon  the  American 
Embassy,  later  joined  by  the  English,  was  enlisted  in  her  defense. 
However  the  Algerian  authorities  refused  to  free  her,  and  three 
months  and  a  half  passed  before  Teresita  had  permission  to  leave 
for  the  island  of  Mallorca.  There  at  the  Hotel  Catala  seven  kilo- 
meters from  Palma  she  reassembled  her  shattered  nerves  as  best 
she  could  after  an  experience  which  might  have  driven  the  most 
level-headed  person  to  insanity.  Pine-covered  mountains  made  a 
protecting  screen  against  the  north  winds,  and  open  country 
stretched  before  her  to  the  sea  beyond,  as  she  spent  day  upon 
day  lounging  on  the  wide  terrace,  waiting  for  permission  to 
leave  the  island  of  her  refuge  and  detention. 

At  the  outbreak  of  the  war  Carreno,  like  everyone  else  in  Ger- 
many, felt  sure  that  victory  would  be  on  the  German  side.  She 
refused  to  take  Arturo's  advice  and  remove  her  money  out  of 
the  hands  of  Schickler's  private  bank  for  deposit  in  Switzerland. 
Unlike  d'Albert  who,  good  German  that  he  was,  had  found  it 
expedient  to  become  a  Swiss  citizen  at  the  first  moment  of  con- 
flagration, she  preferred  to  stand  or  fall  with  the  country  of  her 
adoption.  In  September  she  wrote  to  Giovanni,  studying  in 
Milan,  from  whom  she  had  not  heard  for  three  months: 


TERESA  CARRENO  353 

I  have  to  give  you  very  unpleasant  news,  I  am  sorry  to  say.  Through 
this  terrible  war  we  find  ourselves  in  most  serious  financial  trouble. 
The  little  money  I  have  been  able  to  set  aside  is  all  tied  up,  and  all 
I  can  get  is  a  loan  on  it  to  enable  us  to  live,  and  that  depriving  us  of 
every  comfort.  We  have  to  do  without  servants  and  must  content 
ourselves  with  barely  enough  so  as  not  to  starve.  I  can  only  send 
150  marks,  and  you  will  have  to  see  what  you  can  do  to  earn  your 
bread  and  butter  for  alas!  I  cannot  help  you  any  more.  All  engage- 
ments for  the  winter  are  being  cancelled,  and  I  fear  there  will  be 
nothing  for  me  to  earn  either  with  concerts  or  with  pupils.  Who 
wants  lessons  under  these  terrible  circumstances? 

If  Carreno  painted  conditions  in  what  proved  to  be  colors  of 
somewhat  exaggerated  gloom,  telegrams  which  canceled  one 
after  another  of  the  fifty-five  engagements  already  on  her  list 
seemed  to  justify  her  in  so  doing.  Life  at  home  ran  along  in 
much  the  same  orderly  groove  with  only  one  servant  at  25  marks 
a  month  to  do  heavy  cleaning,  and  Josephine  to  help  where  she 
could.  Eugenia  and  Hertha  manfully  did  their  part  and  man- 
aged to  find  time  for  a  course  in  nursing,  working  for  war  relief 
wherever  they  were  allowed.  The  problem  of  their  status  of  na- 
tionality worried  the  authorities.  For  a  time  they  were  obliged 
to  present  themselves  at  police  headquarters  daily  until  some 
official  had  the  clever  idea  of  having  them  declared  not  alien  but 
homeless.  These  girls  without  a  country  were  allowed  to  travel  in 
Germany  on  English  passports,  suffering  outside  of  red  tape  no 
other  particular  inconvenience  on  that  account. 

Later  in  October  Germany  once  more  began  to  insist  upon  the 
solace  of  music  without  which  there  is  no  living  for  a  Teuton, 
although  making  it  as  difficult  as  possible  for  the  artist  who  was 
expected  to  provide  it.  On  every  provocation  in  every  city  pass- 
ports had  to  be  presented  and  studied  at  length,  questions  had  to 
be  answered  that  pried  into  one's  very  reason  for  being  born. 
Hours  that  should  have  been  spent  preparing  in  quiet  for  the 
evening  were  used  up  standing  in  line  at  the  Consulate  or  at  the 
police  station  until  there  was  barely  time  for  dressing.  Letters 
from  those  high  in  authority  availed  nothing  against  the  intrusive 


354  TERESA  CARRENO 

stupidity  of  some  of  the  inquisitors,  one  of  whom  wished  to  know 
why  Carreno  could  not  give  her  concerts  by  letter.  Crossing 
frontiers  was  worse.  Now  and  then  she  found  an  inspector  who 
could  be  counted  among  her  admirers  and  was  only  too  glad  to 
smooth  the  way.  More  often  she  was  obliged  to  let  herself  be 
herded,  pushed,  and  insulted  like  everyone  else  in  this  orgy  of 
hatred  and  suspicion.  She  made  the  best  of  it  because  she  felt 
now,  as  she  was  too  young  to  realize  in  1863,  that  she  could  bring 
a  measure  of  comfort  more  real  than  material  help  to  thousands 
whom  hope  had  forsaken.  For  this  it  was  worth  while  to  cross 
the  sealed  borders  of  Holland,  Denmark,  and  Sweden  with  all 
the  hardships  it  entailed. 

In  one  way  it  was  a  relief  to  be  on  tour  rather  than  at  home. 
Italy's  entrance  into  the  conflict  on  the  side  of  the  allies  brought 
disharmony  into  this  cosmopolitan  household.  That  Arturo's 
sympathies  were  ranged  on  the  side  of  the  country  of  his  birth 
was  natural.  Yet  he  was  obliged  to  live  among  those  who  thrilled 
to  every  German  victory.  Loud  disagreement  often  ended  in  the 
deadlock  of  silence  charged  with  tension.  Mealtimes  became  the 
dreaded  parts  of  the  day.  With  actual  relief  Carreno  left  for 
Madrid  alone  to  give  three  concerts  under  the  auspices  of  the 
Philharmonic  Society  there,  and  to  pilot  Teresita  back  from  Bar- 
celona. In  one  of  the  luxurious  apartments  of  the  Palace  Hotel 
she  prepared  for  these  all-important  functions.  The  Society  was 
the  most  exclusive  of  all  Spain,  only  members  having  entrance 
to  the  concerts  from  which  even  the  usual  critics  were  debarred. 
One  of  Carreno's  most  absorbed  listeners  was  the  Infanta  Isabel, 
aunt  of  the  King,  by  far  the  most  musical  member  of  the  royal 
household. 

By  ill  luck  Carreno  contracted  a  cold  on  the  night  of  her  first 
concert.  She  played  between  spells  of  coughing.  Bronchitis  de- 
veloped, and  for  more  than  a  week  she  was  forced  to  stay  in  bed. 
Her  second  concert,  played  before  she  had  recovered  strength 
sapped  by  high  fever,  was  nevertheless  received  with  universal 
enthusiasm  which  outlived  even  the  third  to  such  an  extent  that 
an  extra  concert  was  called  for  by  petition  and  unanimously 


TERESA  CARRENO  355 

voted  by  the  directorate.  All  this  was  tremendously  gratifying. 
But  Carreno  longed  for  home,  no  news  of  which  had  reached 
her  during  the  two  months  of  her  stay.  She  was  packing,  im- 
patient to  be  on  her  way,  when  the  Major  Domo  of  the  Court 
called  upon  her  with  great  ceremony,  bringing  an  invitation 
from  Queen  Victoria  to  play  a  week  later  at  the  Palace.  The  re- 
quest honored  her  too  much  to  be  denied. 

On  the  evening  of  May  31,  1915,  a  festal  equipage  pranced  up 
to  the  door  of  the  hotel  to  take  her  to  the  Queen.  As  she  entered 
the  hall  where  the  ladies  of  the  royal  family  and  of  the  Court 
were  standing  about  in  groups,  the  Queen  stepped  forward  to 
greet  the  guest  who  was  her  match  in  bearing.  Diamonds  glit- 
tered under  crystal  chandeliers  like  fireflies  under  the  stars.  After 
Carreno  had  been  presented  to  the  Queen  Mother  Maria  Chris- 
tina and  to  a  bevy  of  Princesses,  King  Alfonso  himself  entered 
the  hall  attended  by  Gentlemen  of  the  Court.  He  welcomed  Car- 
reno with  genial  cordiality  to  which  he  added:  "Senora  Carreno, 
I  have  known  you  very  well  since  my  boyhood.  Your  picture 
hangs  in  my  mother's  boudoir."  Then  while  the  others  were  tak- 
ing their  seats,  Carreno  was  escorted  to  the  piano.  Her  sweeping 
bow  was  the  gracious  salutation  of  one  queen  to  another.  Car- 
reno smiled.  She  was  suddenly  reminded  of  the  little  Teresita 
of  long  ago  whose  curtsy  had  been  her  downfall.  For  more  than 
an  hour  she  played  whatever  one  or  another  of  the  group  called 
for.  Last  of  all  the  Queen  Mother  asked  for  the  "Marche  Mili- 
taire."  This  the  King  really  appreciated.  "Oh,  Senora,"  he  said, 
"if  you  only  knew  what  suffering  this  composition  has  caused 
me!  My  mother  insisted  that  I  learn  to  play  the  piano.  I  have 
no  ear  for  music  and  nothing  on  earth  could  give  me  an  under- 
standing of  it.  I  remember  with  agony  that  she  would  make  me 
play  this  march  with  her  for  four  hands.  She  was  dreadfully 
strict  about  time,  and  made  me  count  aloud  one,  two ;  one,  two, 
until  I  was  hoarse." 

As  Carreno  shook  hands  with  the  Queen  in  leaving  she  was 
honored  by  another  invitation  to  play,  this  time  in  the  rooms  of 
the  Queen  Mother,  on  the  following  Thursday  afternoon.  Flat- 


356  TERESA  CARRENO 

tering  as  it  was,  Carrefio  accepted  with  reluctance.  There  had  still 
been  no  word  from  home.  The  days  dragged  on. 

This  second  appearance  at  Court  had  a  more  intimate  setting. 
The  Queen  Mother  received  her  guest  very  simply,  inquired  for 
her  family,  her  children,  and  apologized  for  asking  Carreno  to 
defer  her  playing  until  the  coming  of  King  Alfonso.  He  had  re- 
fused to  be  left  out.  "It  is  the  greatest  compliment  he  could  pay 
you,  my  dear  Senora,"  said  the  Queen  Mother.  Again  it  was  a 
request  program.  At  its  end  tea  was  served  at  two  tables,  one  for 
the  royal  family,  one  for  the  artist  and  members  of  the  Court 
circle.  A  chair  opposite  Carreno  was  vacant.  Seeing  this  the  King 
himself  took  his  seat  there  and  began  to  talk  vivaciously  with 
this  artist,  whom  he  liked  in  spite  of  her  playing  rather  than  be- 
cause of  it.  Carreno  was  as  much  touched  by  this  courtesy  as  by 
the  gifts  of  jeweled  brooches  presented  to  her  by  the  Queen,  the 
Queen  Mother,  and  the  Infanta  Isabel. 

After  this  Carreno  left  at  once  for  Barcelona,  settled  Teresita's 
affairs,  secured  her  English  passport,  and  managed  to  cross  the 
borders  in  safety.  She  rejoiced  to  Arturo, 

At  last  I  am  on  the  way  home,  and  I  can't  tell  you  how  happy  I  am! 
It  seemed  to  me  that  I  should  never  return  to  you  or  the  children,  and 
the  unbearable  thing  was  not  to  have  any  word  of  you.  The  despatch 
from  Eugenia  in  answer  to  mine  came  as  if  from  Heaven.  Thank 
God  that  you  are  well,  and  that  I  can  again  hear  from  you! 

Near  Lausanne  Teresita  found  a  place  where  she  could  try  to 
regain  control  of  herself  under  the  care  of  an  eminent  nerve 
specialist,  who  advised  temporary  rest  and  no  idea  of  a  musical 
career  for  a  long  time  to  come.  The  influence  of  North  Africa 
and  the  mental  torture  of  imprisonment  had  left  Teresita  passive, 
devoid  of  the  little  initiative  she  once  had.  She  waited  for  fate 
to  do  its  worst,  relegated  every  decision  to  her  mother,  and 
yearned  for  the  happy  days  in  Africa  with  Mohammed.  If  only 
she  could  earn  enough  money  to  go  to  Tangiers  and  live  in  a 
little  cottage  by  the  sea,  married  to  somebody,  anybody  who 
would  protect  her,  own  a  little  low  Arab  horse,  and  ride  and 


TERESA  CARRENO  357 

walk  and  live !  She  blames  her  mother  for  her  unhappy  state  and 
hits  the  point  in  self-analysis: 

You  see,  I  can't  rely  upon  myself  or  upon  my  capacities.  The  latter 
come  and  go  according  to  the  emotions  of  my  soul.  I  would  not  care 
if  I  did  not  have  your  name.  If  I  had  a  name  of  my  own  to  play  with 
in  my  musical  eccentricities  I  should  not  mind  in  the  least,  and  would 
go  concertizing  around  the  whole  world.  But  as  it  is  I  am  afraid  of 
putting  a  stain  on  that,  your  beautifully  polished  name. 

She  recognizes  that  "to  make  a  name  in  Europe  you  do  not  need 
to  be  young,  you  only  need  to  be  great" — yet,  too  tired  to  take  up 
the  challenge,  she  lapses  into  lethargy  and  leaves  all  to  Allah  and 
to  her  mother. 

But  Carreno  had  not  yet  reached  home.  In  Bern  she  drove  to 
the  American  Embassy  for  the  necessary  formalities  and  was  re- 
ceived by  an  uncouth  man  who  did  not  think  it  worth  while 
to  rise  from  the  chair  in  which  he  was  comfortably  sprawling. 
"If  I  had  been  the  laundress  bringing  his  collars  back  badly 
ironed,  he  could  not  have  been  less  courteous,"  commented  Car- 
reno. Between  yawns  he  informed  her  that  she  would  have  to 
have  a  birth  certificate  in  addition  to  her  passport  to  prove  that 
she  was  really  an  American  citizen.  Those  were  the  latest  orders. 
Then  he  withdrew  his  attention  in  favor  of  a  newspaper.  A  day 
and  a  half  passed  in  negotiation  before  she  was  able  to  leave  for 
Basle  and  there  she  was  held  up  for  three  more  days,  this  time  by 
German  officials,  until  she  could  prove  herself  a  bona  fide  resi- 
dent of  Berlin.  A  letter  to  Mr.  Cochran  summed  up  the  experi- 
ence of  this  trip  from  the  haven  of  home,  concluding: 

Well,  now  I  have  taken  you  to  Spain  and  to  the  Royal  Family  there, 
and  have  made  you  travel  through  France  and  Switzerland  (whether 
you  were  willing  or  not)  and  brought  you  into  Germany  and  into 
our  home.  I  will  allow  you  to  rest  a  while — I  think  you  need  it  badly 
— to  remain  at  your  own  dear  home,  and  as  you  are  there,  I  will  now 
bring  you  back  to  business  and  in  doing  so  will  end  my  letter  as  I 
began  it.  This  is  according  to  all  musical  rules.  And  yet  they  say 
we  women  are  not  logical! 


358  TERESA  CARRENO 

You  are  quite  right  about  the  advisability  of  my  placing  myself  in 
America  at  the  earliest  opportunity  and  (as  often  it  has  happened) 
your  thoughts  and  mine  were  running  in  the  same  channel.  From 
what  you  write  the  United  States  will  be  overrun  next  season  by 
musical  attractions  and  specially  by  pianists  of  more  or  less  popularity. 
In  view  of  this  I  have  asked  myself  and  am  now  putting  the  question 
before  you  whether  it  would  not  be  advisable  to  postpone  my  tour, 
"our  tour,"  until  the  season  1916/17,  provided  I  am  still  an  inhabitant 
of  this  planet.  My  prospects  here  even  with  this  terrible  war  and  in 
spite  of  it  are  very  good.  Already  I  have  many  offers  for  next  season, 
not  only  from  the  different  musical  societies  in  Germany  but  also 
from  those  of  Scandinavia,  Holland,  Switzerland,  and  Spain,  which 
again  wishes  to  have  me.  Even  admitting  that  circumstances  would 
be  such  that  some  of  those  offers  might  not  take  effect,  I  would  still 
have  enough  engagements  to  make  my  season  a  profitable  one.  Also 
with  pupils  I  would  be  able  to  make  a  good  income.  All  this  would 
happen  without  my  having  to  incur  any  extra  expense  and  I  would 
remain  at  home  or  within  easy  reach  of  my  family. 

And  so  it  was  decided.  The  summer  passed  busily.  Carreno  added 
Beethoven's  "G  major  Concerto,"  which  had  tempted  her  since 
she  first  heard  it  under  d' Albert's  fingers,  to  her  repertoire,  and 
began  to  make  plans  for  her  treatise  on  "Possibilities  of  Tone 
Color  by  the  Artistic  Use  of  the  Pedal."  Her  style  was  by  no 
means  literary,  but  she  had  something  authoritative  to  contrib- 
ute on  this  subject. 

It  looked  as  if  the  season  could  begin  with  tranquillity  when 
one  morning  the  newspapers  brought  word  that  Giovanni,  too, 
had  been  arrested  as  a  German  spy  in  Milan,  where  his  voice  was 
undergoing  the  changes  from  baritone  to  tenor.  Letters  from 
Germany  in  German  had  attracted  the  curiosity  of  the  Govern- 
ment, especially  a  postcard  in  which  Carreno  harmlessly  asked 
how  his  "work"  was  progressing.  The  quotation  marks  looked 
suspicious.  It  was  his  interest  in  guns,  however,  that  led  to  his 
undoing.  Lunching  one  day  in  a  public  restaurant  with  a  friend, 
Giovanni's  attention  was  arrested  by  a  passing  column  of  sol- 
diers. He  casually  inquired  whether  the  guns  they  carried  were 


TERESA  CARRENO  359 

Vetterli  guns.  The  remark  was  overheard  by  a  zealous  patriot, 
and  that  evening  soldiers  came  to  the  pension  with  a  warrant 
for  his  arrest.  They  gave  him  the  alternative  of  taking  a  cab  to 
the  police  station  at  his  own  expense  or  of  submitting  to  the  in- 
dignity of  walking  handcuffed  between  them.  There  his  money 
and  other  property  were  taken  from  him,  then  every  article  of 
clothing,  in  place  of  which  he  was  required  to  put  on  prison  gar- 
ments stained  with  blood  and  unwashed  since  the  last  user  had 
been  released  to  freedom  or  death.  He  shared  his  cell,  six  paces 
long  by  four  in  width,  with  an  ordinary  thief.  Two  filthy  mat- 
tresses directly  on  the  floor  masqueraded  as  beds.  Food  consisted 
of  bread  and  a  dish  of  thin  soup  served  in  containers  so  dirty  that 
for  three  days  Giovanni  was  unable  to  bring  himself  to  eat.  But 
for  a  friend  whose  anxiety  led  her  to  arouse  the  American  consul 
from  his  apathy  by  continuous  prodding,  Giovanni  might  have 
remained  in  prison  for  the  rest  of  the  war.  She  was  permitted  to 
supply  him  with  books,  food  cooked  in  the  pension,  and  money 
with  which  he  bribed  an  official  to  move  him  to  a  slightly  cleaner 
cell  of  his  own.  There  nights  continued  to  be  more  unbearable 
than  the  days.  Every  two  hours  a  guard  unlocked  the  cell  door, 
turned  the  light  of  a  lantern  full  upon  him,  and  locked  him  in 
again  with  a  bang  and  a  jangle  of  keys.  Even  within  these  in- 
tervals of  solitude  there  was  no  peace.  The  Sentinella  alerta  of 
the  guards,  repeated  every  fifteen  minutes  by  these  potential 
opera  singers  in  fortissimo,  made  the  fitful  sleeper  jump  to  wake- 
fulness. It  was  easier  to  rest  by  day.  After  eighteen  days  Giovanni 
was  given  his  liberty  and  his  property  on  condition  that  he  would 
leave  the  country  at  once.  He  had  no  greater  wish.  From  Lugano, 
his  first  stop,  he  made  his  way  to  Frankfurt,  there  to  adjust  his 
rising  voice  to  tenor  level,  quality,  and  repertoire  under  the  guid- 
ance of  Herr  Bellwidt.  Carreno  as  well  as  her  son  could  breathe 
freely  once  more. 

This  shock  at  the  beginning  of  a  taxing  season  helped  to  under- 
mine her  shaky  health,  but  it  was  not  her  own  condition  that 
upset  her  most.  From  Stockholm  she  wrote  to  Arturo : 


360  TERESA  CARRENO 

Only  a  few  lines  to  tell  you  everything  goes  well  although  as  usual 
I  have  a  cold.  But  after  Dr.  Rystedt  gave  me  those  old  cough  powders 
it  has  improved.  I  hope  that  you  received  my  telegrams.  Both  concerts 
here  and  in  Upsala  were  sold  out.  Was  that  not  nice?  All  our  dear 
friends  here  are  grieved  that  you  did  not  come  with  me  and  send 
you  their  hearty  greetings.  Frau  Hofmann  who  declared  that  you  are 
her  special  favorite  (the  dear  old  friend!)  asked  particularly  about 
your  health.  When  I  told  her  about  your  sciatica  she  said  to  tell  you 
that  there  is  a  famous  doctor  here  whose  specialty  is  sciatica.  He  says 
the  only  way  to  cure  it  is  to  stay  in  bed  two  weeks,  but  not  less,  and 
then  take  massage.  Not  before!  He  says  no  other  cure  is  useful.  The 
sciatic  nerve  must  have  complete  rest  and  then  you  get  well.  That 
sounds  very  sensible  and  I  urge  you  to  do  this. 

Again  and  again  Carreno  complains  that  Arturo  writes  noth- 
ing about  his  own  condition.  "That  after  all  is  the  most  important 
thing,"  she  reiterates.  From  Stavanger  she  finds  time  for  a  really 
long  letter  that  gives  insight  into  the  uncertainties  of  the  life  of  a 
concert  artist  during  the  war. 

.  .  .  You  will  be  surprised  to  have  a  letter  from  this  place,  I  know. 
An  engagement  for  400  crowns  was  offered  me  here  by  Hals,  and 
I  accepted  it,  very  especially  because  it  could  take  place  between  the 
two  concerts  in  Bergen.  I  played  here  night  before  last  and  was 
supposed  to  leave  for  my  second  concert  in  Bergen  this  evening. 
Last  night  when  I  was  ready  and  packed  to  take  the  night  boat  to 
Bergen,  I  had  a  telegram  from  Harloff  in  which  he  told  me  that 
the  prospects  for  today's  concert  were  so  bad  that  he  advised  me 
not  to  give  the  concert.  After  the  enthusiasm  of  the  audience  and, 
as  I  am  told,  the  splendid  criticisms  in  the  papers,  this  news  was  a 
great  surprise  and  certainly  not  a  pleasant  one.  Of  course  I  cancelled 
the  concert,  and  go  on  to  Bergen  to  night  to  take  the  night  train  to 
Kristiania  tomorrow,  then  on  to  Goteborg  on  the  eighteenth.  As  one 
says:  "Everything  has  its  bright  side."  I  felt  so  badly — I  caught  cold 
again  on  the  way  here — and  just  before  Harloff's  telegram  came  I 
had  decided  not  to  leave  for  Bergen  until  this  morning.  We  had 
such  a  storm  all  day  yesterday  and  way  into  the  night  that  I  was 
afraid  I  might  become  seriously  ill  if  I  went  out  in  such  awful  weather. 


TERESA  CARRENO  361 

And  then  came  Harloff's  telegram  and  I  could  stay  right  here,  which 
was  best  for  my  health. 

Business  in  Kristiania  was  not  good  either.  The  first  concert  brought 
me  700  crowns  and  in  the  second  I  lost  nearly  200  crowns.  So  the 
first  paid  for  the  last  and  I  had  427  crowns  left.  The  reason  is  said 
to  be  that  the  critic  of  the  most-read  paper  wrote  so  dreadfully  about 
me  that  people  after  reading  it  did  not  come  to  hear  me.  The  mu- 
sicians in  Kristiania,  so  I  am  told,  were  outraged  and  wrote  letters 
to  the  editor  of  the  paper  demanding  that  he  be  dismissed.  In  any 
case  the  audience  made  a  real  demonstration  in  the  second  concert, 
and  as  I  stepped  out  upon  the  platform  I  found  upon  my  chair  in 
front  of  the  piano  a  huge  laurel  wreath  tied  with  Norwegian  colors 
with  an  inscription  which  read:  "In  greatest  esteem  from  the  pianists 
and  pianistes  of  Kristiania."  The  applause  did  not  wish  to  end,  and 
I  had  to  stand  there  in  order  to  respond  gratefully  for  five  minutes 
before  I  was  allowed  to  sit  down  to  play.  Since  I  knew  nothing  of  the 
criticism  this  reception  was  somewhat  surprising  to  me.  The  next 
day  Hals  told  me  about  the  criticism,  and  then  I  understood  the 
reason  for  the  ovation.  It  was  a  nice  way  for  the  musicians  and  the 
audience  to  punish  the  critic,  and  I  was  very  much  touched  and 
grateful,  but  I  lost  money  through  this  Herr  Kriti\er,  in  spite  of 
everything. 

Frau  Sinding  (not  Frau  Christian  but  our  old  friend  in  Kristiania) 
told  me  just  on  the  day  of  my  departure  that  a  letter  had  been  made 
public  which  read :  The  admirers  of  Frau  Carreno  ask  her  to  give  one 
more  Popular  Concert  in  Kristiania.  That  was  nice  and  flattering  too, 
was  it  not  ?  Harloflf  in  Bergen  was  the  one  who  told  me  that  this 
bad  criticism  was  responsible  for  the  small  attendance.  Could  one 
think  of  anything  more  stupid?  All  the  other  critics  wrote  beautiful 
notices,  I  was  told  in  Kristiania,  and  just  this  one  had  more  influence 
than  all  the  others  together.  It  doesn't  flatter  the  intelligence  and  the 
musical  taste  of  the  Norwegian  Public. 

The  concert  in  Tonsberg  was  delightful  and  the  people  were  charm- 
ing. It  was  sold  out.  So  the  great?  critic  of  Kristiania  must  have  had 
no  influence  there.  .  .  . 

Now,  my  beloved,  I  have  told  you  everything  that  has  happened 
so  far.  All  our  friends  regret  very  much  that  you  did  not  come  along, 
and  send  you  their  greetings.  In  Kristiania  with  the  Sindings — do  you 


362  TERESA  CARRENO 

remember  when  we  were  there  together  and  the  chauffeur  could  not 
find  the  house  ? — I  was  asked  for  dinner,  and  Herr  Sinding  drank  to 
your  health  and  everyone  followed  suit.  That  gave  me  particularly 
great  pleasure.  Neither  were  our  children  forgotten.  They  are  really 
dear  good  people  and  true  friends.  I  also  had  the  pleasure  of  seeing 
Christian  Sinding  and  his  beautiful  lovable  wife.  They  send  you, 
Eugenia,  and  Hertha  their  greetings.  .  .  . 

And  so  I  hope  with  God's  help  to  be  with  you  and  my  "Babies" 
on  the  fifth.  Your  old  wife,  Teresa. 

As  Carrefio  wove  her  way  from  Scandinavia  to  Rumania  in 
more  than  forty  concerts  she  could  look  back  upon  1915  artisti- 
cally with  satisfaction.  More  and  more  she  was  drawn  to  Beetho- 
ven. His  "G  major  Concerto"  found  a  place  on  a  Berlin  program 
which  she  devoted  to  three  of  his  concerti.  With  Rose  she  ap- 
peared in  three  Beethoven  sonatas  for  violin  and  piano.  An  out- 
standing event  of  the  early  part  of  the  year  was  a  concert  shared 
with  Lilli  Lehmann.  It  was  one  of  the  memorable  events  of  the 
musical  season.  For  a  night  they  appeared  with  rejuvenated  fresh- 
ness, exuberantly  temperamental  as  in  the  old  days.  No,  her 
powers  were  not  waning.  "Do  you  never  grow  tired?"  someone 
asked  the  timeworn  question.  And  her  answer  was  an  exultant 
fanfare:  "When  I  do  I  shall  stop  playing."  In  Bucharest  bron- 
chitis threatened  and  was  subdued  without  causing  the  loss  of  a 
single  concert.  She  remembered  the  doctor's  warning:  "A  year 
of  complete  rest  or  else  a  nervous  collapse,"  only  to  put  it  con- 
temptuously aside. 

Again  and  again  Carrefio  had  reason  to  be  glad  that  she  was 
still  in  Europe  where  concerts  were  surprisingly  plentiful.  She 
was  relieved  to  assure  herself  in  person  that  Giovanni  was  im- 
proving in  health  and  voice,  that  he  was  in  good  hands,  and 
above  all  that  he  was  working,  "trying  to  enter  into  the  spirit  of 
the  great  Beethoven."  Here  and  there  an  engagement  to  sing  in 
opera  in  small  cities  brought  him  returns  in  experience  rather 
than  in  money.  It  was  gratifying,  too,  that  she  could  pass  approv- 
ingly upon  the  engagement  of  Eugenia  to  a  young  German  lieu- 
tenant, and  upon  the  teachers  Hertha  had  chosen  to  help  her 


TERESA  CARRENO  363 

with  her  singing  and  painting  in  Munich.  For  the  time  being 
Teresita  also  was  not  in  active  eruption.  The  anxious  mother  sent 
Arturo,  whose  sciatica  was  still  the  great  anxiety  of  the  moment, 
to  Switzerland  armed  with  a  letter  of  credit  which  would  make 
if  possible  for  Teresita  to  go  to  South  America  for  a  concert  tour, 
as  she  had  begged  to  do  long  before.  When  it  came  to  the  point 
of  making  definite  arrangements  for  sailing,  courage  forsook 
her.  She  refused  to  go  without  Arturo  for  a  manager  as  once  in 
Finland.  How  could  she,  she  argued  rightly,  take  charge  of  her 
own  business  when  she  had  never  been  able  to  do  mathematics  in 
any  form.  Arturo  categorically  refused,  and  Carreno  was  as  glad 
to  see  Teresita  come  to  the  sensible  conclusion  of  abandoning  the 
tour  as  she  was  to  see  the  letter  of  credit  returned  intact.  Instead 
Teresita  changed  her  quarters  to  Berne,  while  at  Carreno' s  sug- 
gestion Arturo  remained  in  Chexbres  for  treatment. 

The  cure  seemed  to  have  been  effective.  Together  Arturo  and 
Teresa  once  more  faced  the  hardships  of  a  journey  to  Spain  for 
three  highly  remunerative  concerts  under  the  auspices  of  the 
Philharmonic  Society  as  before.  The  French  Government  again 
created  difficulties  which  hampered  the  return  to  Berlin  so  seri- 
ously that  they  were  obliged  to  retrace  their  steps  from  the 
French  border  to  Madrid  to  ask  for  the  intercession  of  the  Infanta 
Isabel  in  their  behalf.  Upon  her  insistent  demand  permission  was 
granted  them  to  pass  through  French  territory  only  after  precious 
weeks  had  been  spent  in  besieging  one  office  after  another.  Safely 
at  home  once  more,  dangers  and  annoyances  of  the  past  were 
quickly  crowded  out  by  the  exigencies  of  each  day. 

One  morning  came  news  of  the  death  of  Manuel  after  pro- 
longed illness.  Devotedly  Rosie  had  cared  for  him  and  supported 
them  both  by  turning  to  the  breeding  of  dogs.  Handsome  Man- 
uel gone,  his  life  a  wasted  promise !  Carreno  could  not  let  herself 
go  in  the  luxurious  indulgence  of  grief.  There  were  concerts  to 
be  played.  She  must  spare  herself  for  what  lay  before  her.  Never- 
theless each  shock  took  its  toll  of  strength! 

Of  all  the  concerts  during  this  season  the  ones  to  which  she 
contributed  her  participation  for  the  benefit  of  war  relief  gave 


364  TERESA  CARRENO 

her  the  deepest  satisfaction.  When  the  Crown  Princess  of  Ger- 
many called  her  to  the  royal  box  to  thank  her  in  person  for  aid- 
ing a  cause  under  her  patronage,  Carreno  esteemed  it  an  honor. 
But  she  was  just  as  mindful  of  her  own  dignity  as  an  artist.  On 
one  occasion  she  had  given  her  services  for  the  benefit  of  the 
widows  and  orphans  of  fallen  soldiers  in  a  concert  at  Kroll's 
under  the  auspices  of  Excellenz  von  Blilow.  After  the  per- 
formance an  Adjutant  appeared  to  ask  that  Carreno  accompany 
him  to  the  box  of  His  Excellency  who  desired  to  express  his 
gratitude.  Carreno  drew  herself  up  to  her  full  stature,  unhesi- 
tatingly rejecting  the  distinction.  "Please  tell  His  Excellency  that 
no  thanks  are  necessary.  I  did  it  for  the  soldiers."  And  she  could 
not  refrain  from  adding:  "Besides,  if  Excellenz  von  Billow 
wishes  to  express  his  appreciation  he  should  come  to  me.  I  am  a 
woman." 

Art  admits  of  no  compromise.  It  was  Carreno's  sense  of  the 
dignity  of  her  calling  which  would  not  allow  her  to  accept  a 
financially  breath-taking  offer  to  play  every  evening  for  a  week 
in  this  same  setting  of  Kroll's  Theater  for  2,500  marks  a  night, 
she  to  play  for  one  hour  only.  Then,  after  an  intermission  the 
rest  of  the  evening  was  to  be  given  over  to  vaudeville.  In  order 
not  to  be  tempted,  in  order  to  keep  faith  with  herself  as  a 
musician,  she,  a  little  ruefully  to  be  sure,  sent  in  a  prompt  refusal. 


Word  from  Mr.  Cochran  seemed  to  point  the  way  to  a  successful 
season  in  the  United  States,  still  unscathed  by  war  and  its  reper- 
cussions. That  the  Steinway  Company  was  willing  to  cooperate 
was  an  additional  inducement,  and  Carrefio  in  spite  of  the  re- 
monstrance of  Eugenia  and  Hertha,  in  spite  of  the  advice  of  Ar- 
turo,  provisionally  agreed  to  brave  the  new  terrors  of  the  ocean, 
reserving  however  the  right  to  cancel  the  trip  should  there  be  too 
few  concerts  to  warrant  it. 

With  Eugenia  soon  to  be  married,  Hertha  in  Munich,  Gio- 
vanni in  Frankfurt,  Teresita  in  Switzerland,  and  Arturo  with 
her  in  America,  keeping  the  apartment  at  Kurfurstendamm  28 
would  have  been  an  inexcusable  extravagance.  Poor  old  Jose- 
phine could  go  with  Eugenia.  There  began  the  sad  business  of 
dismantling  the  home,  of  storing  furniture.  As  she  waited  while 
the  movers  carried  out  the  last  boxes,  Carreno  was  assailed  by 
a  premonition:  "I  feel  that  I  shall  not  come  back  again,"  she 
confided  to  Hertha.  It  would  not  have  been  a  great  disappoint- 
ment had  Mr.  Cochran  sent  word  that  the  tour  should  be  aban- 
doned, but  when  instead  a  cable  came  announcing  thirty  fixed 
engagements,  common  sense  dictated  immediate  departure. 

Carreno  and  Arturo  took  passage  for  September  7  on  the 
steamer  Os\ar  11,  sailing  from  Denmark.  Crossing  the  border 
at  Warnemunde  with  eight  trunks  and  more  pieces  of  hand 
luggage  was  no  laughing  matter.  There  was  no  detail  of  equip- 
ment which  customs  officials  did  not  find  worthy  of  suspicious 
scrutiny.  The  dresses,  carefully  packed  by  Arturo  with  tissue 
paper  between  the  folds,  were  deprived  of  this  protection.  Labels 
were  removed  from  all  bottles,  and  a  whole  supply  of  calling 
cards  was  confiscated.  Only  after  page-by-page  examination  was 
Carreno  permitted  to  take  her  music  and  her  books  out  of  the 
country  under  seal.  Arrived  in  Kopenhagen  completely  ex- 
hausted, it  was  found  necessary  to  repack  every  trunk  anew.  No 
danger  of  mines  at  sea  could  match  the  terrors  of  travel  on  land 
at  this  time,  Carreno  decided.  There  was  no  fear  in  her  as  she 
embarked,  and  in  fact  the  journey  proved  to  be  unexpectedly 


366  TERESA  CARRENO 

eventless  and  pleasurable,  potential  peril  merely  adding  a  stim- 
ulating tang. 

Of  her  arrival  in  New  York  Carrefio  tells  in  a  letter  to  one  of 
her  students. 

Your  dear  letter  welcoming  us  to  America  was  such  a  dear  welcome 
and  gave  both  your  Berlin  Daddy  and  your  Berlin  Mother  such  a 
great  pleasure!  Thank  you  a  thousand  times  for  the  dear  kind  mes- 
sage, my  darling  child!  We  arrived  on  the  nineteenth  instant  after 
having  a  most  pleasant  journey.  We  met  no  mines,  no  U-boats,  no 
submarines,  and  altogether  had  as  quiet  a  trip  (sea  and  all  other 
elements!)  as  could  have  been  wished.  As  soon  as  we  could  we  started 
looking  for  an  apartment,  as  we  intend  making  a  home  for  ourselves 
here  in  New  York  for  some  time  to  come.  I  find  that  I  will  have  time 
to  teach  whilst  I  am  here  (for  which  I  am  awfully  glad)  and  there- 
fore, we  want  more  privacy  and  independence  than  we  have  in  a 
hotel.  Until  now,  though  we  have  seen  a  great  number  of  apartments 
more  or  less  suitable,  we  have  not  found  just  what  we  wish  to  have. 
There  are  so  many  sides  to  this  important  question!  First  of  all  the 
price,  then  the  location,  the  size,  the  freedom  of  playing  the  piano 
when  and  as  I  feel  like  it,  which  means  of  course  at  reasonable  hours. 
And  in  order  to  find  all  these  conditions  we  are  yet  hunting.  Let  us 
hope  we  will  have  the  good  luck  to  find  just  the  treasure  for  which 
we  are  looking.  .  .  . 

I  will  tell  you  just  a  little  of  the  happenings  which  may  be  of  a  little 
interest  to  you  as  my  child.  First  of  all  Eugenia  married  on  the  ninth 
of  last  month  Lieutenant  Jorn  Duske.  He  is  a  very  charming  and 
energetic  young  man  twenty-five  years  old.  They  are  devoted  to  each 
other,  and  though  neither  one  of  them  has  much  of  the  "worldly 
goods,"  I  think  they  will  be  very  happy  in  their  married  life.  The 
wedding  was  a  'Kriegsheirath'  and  consequently  very  simple  and 
quiet.  .  .  . 

Before  leaving  Berlin  we  gave  up  our  apartment  in  Kurf  urstendamm 
28.  This  has  been  a  sorrow  to  me  as  you  can  imagine.  Twenty-two 
years  of  my  life  were  spent  there.  My  babies  came  as  babies  and  small 
children  to  this  home,  grew  up  in  it,  became  grown-ups.  ...  So  much 
joy  and  sorrow  did  I  go  through  at  28  Kurfiistendamm!  I  felt  as 
though  I  were  parting  with  a  large  share  of  my  heart  by  leaving  our 
old  home!  I  will  not  say  any  more  about  it,  darling,  for  my  heart 


TERESA  CARRENO  367 

grows  sadder  and  sadder  when  I  speak  of  it  all,  and  I  have  made 
up  my  mind  to  use  all  that  I  possess  of  will-power  to  fight  my  feelings. 

This  letter  is  growing  to  such  dimensions  that  in  kindness  to  you, 
my  sweet  child,  I  will  come  to  an  end.  .  .  .  Auf  baldiges  und  gesundes 
Wiedersehen,  darling  child,  and  with  a  heart  full  of  love  I  remain 
your  affectionate  "Berlin  Mother." 

P.S.  Sept.  29th.  I  just  found  an  apartment,  thank  Heaven!!  From 
tomorrow  on  our  address  will  be  the  "Delia  Robbia,"  740  West  End 
Ave.  This  will  be  your  New  York  home. 

One  of  the  chief  compensations  of  the  American  tour  of  1916 
was  to  be  the  renewed  opportunity  for  teaching.  In  Germany 
that  part  of  Carreno's  profession  had  lately  been  at  a  standstill, 
and  she  had  missed  it,  the  more  because  it  was  the  only  corner 
of  her  art  still  unexplored  in  fullness. 

Carreno  taught  according  to  three  simple  rules:  "1.  Master  the 
fundamentals.  2.  Know  what  to  do.  3.  Do  it."  Like  other  creative 
teachers  she  disliked  the  word  method.  It  suggested  constrain- 
ing walls,  not  opening  ways.  As  she  required  freedom  for  her- 
self, freedom  in  self-expression,  freedom  on  occasion  to  change 
her  mind,  so  she  insisted  that  her  students  take  advantage  of 
their  right  to  blaze  their  own  trails.  She  was  always  open-eared 
to  follow  an  interpretation  widely  divergent  from  her  own  to 
the  end,  if  she  found  in  it  something  significant,  something  sin- 
cerely personal,  and  her  praise  was  apt  to  be  as  extravagant  as 
her  blame.  At  no  time  was  a  student  in  doubt  as  to  his  rating, 
but  neither  was  there  a  guarantee  that  the  performance  which 
found  favor  today  might  not  meet  with  disapproval  tomorrow. 
A  pupil  who  expected  systematic  step-by-step  training,  a  Jacob's 
ladder  leading  to  the  paradise  of  art  according  to  a  black-and- 
white  right  and  wrong,  clear  as  the  Commandments,  soon  left 
in  utter  confusion  to  seek  another  master.  Those  independent 
enough,  imaginative  enough  to  penetrate  the  brambles  of  con- 
tradiction to  the  clearing,  discovered  that  the  principles  upon 
which  their  musical  beliefs  were  grounded  finally  tallied  with 
Carreno's  own.  In  their  essence  they  were  definite  as  the  Con- 
stitution. 


368  TERESA  CARRENO 

Until  German  standards  had  caused  Carreno  to  reevaluate  her 
playing  she  had  continued  to  teach  as  her  father  instructed  her, 
using  the  material  she  had  inherited  from  him  in  the  somewhat 
stereotyped  way  which  had  imitation  and  repetition  as  its  peda- 
gogical basis.  She  encouraged  her  disciples  to  copy  her,  and  in 
turn  presented  them  with  a  caricature  of  their  own  performance 
to  the  life.  She  was  an  active  listener,  and  if  the  modus  operandi 
failed  in  result  there  was  always  the  experimental  approach: 
"Try  it  this  way.  Perhaps  this  will  work  better."  Until  Carreno 
had  come  into  her  own  in  Germany,  the  quality  of  her  pupils 
had  been  uninspiring,  a  strain  to  the  patience  of  one  to  whom 
difficulties  presented  no  problem.  The  door  often  closed  with  a 
"thank  goodness  that's  over." 

Germany  revolutionized  this  attitude.  When  young  boys  and 
girls  came  to  Carreno  for  help  that  seemed  to  mean  life  or  death, 
she  began  to  give  closer  thought  to  her  responsibilities  as  a 
teacher.  What  did  she  have  to  give  in  return  for  their  investment 
in  money  and  in  faith?  Detailed  analysis  was  not  for  her.  She 
gladly  left  it  to  people  like  Rudolf  Maria  Breithaupt  who  had 
found  the  tenets  of  his  book,  Die  Natiirliche  Klaviertechni\,  con- 
firmed by  her  playing.  Weight  and  relaxation  were  the  recent 
bywords  of  pianistic  vocabulary.  That  they  were  more  often  mis- 
applied than  comprehended  was  an  unfortunate  by-product. 
Good-by  to  the  superannuated  Breslauer,  to  Kullak,  and  those 
of  his  kind!  Good-by  to  the  finger  methods  by  whose  limited 
lights,  like  the  ghostly  ones  of  the  marshes,  countless  potential 
virtuosos  had  sought  technical  perfection  and  found  instead  the 
end  of  a  promising  career  in  the  quicksands  of  neuritis.  Newly 
aware  of  reserves  of  power,  of  stronger  muscles  ready  to  take 
the  burden  from  the  weaker,  Germany  splashed,  rolled,  and 
pounded  to  its  heart's  content.  The  Liszt  pupil  had  paved  the 
way,  and  the  weight-technicians  followed  suit  with  uncon- 
trolled abandon,  in  joyous  confidence  that  they  had  found  the 
combinations  to  the  safe  where  the  secret  of  genius  lay  hidden, 
the  simple  solution  to  the  riddle:  "How  can  the  extraordinary 


TERESA  CARRENO  369 

be  accomplished  without  hard  work"?  In  their  intoxication  at 
finding  piano  playing  suddenly  made  easier  they  forgot  that  it 
is  not  a  system  but  the  person  who  succeeds,  that  Carreno  had 
found  the  opening  key  by  virtue  of  three  small  words:  "I  am 
Carreno"  long  before  she  was  eight  years  old.  Naively  they  ac- 
claimed her:  "Here  is  the  one  who  adopts  and  proves  our  the- 
ories." Whether  she  liked  it  or  not  Carreno  saw  herself  saddled 
with  a  method. 

Together  with  a  feeling  of  responsibility  the  years  brought 
another  revelation.  Teaching  had  its  moments  even  as  playing. 
There  were  facets  in  the  musical  profession  that  sparkled 
freshly  by  reflected  illumination.  The  development  of  a  student 
could  be  as  important,  as  exciting  as  her  own,  might  even  arm 
her  against  the  stagnation  of  unrelieved  routine.  Passing  on 
convictions,  putting  beliefs  into  words,  striking  responsive 
chords,  that  too  was  necessary,  never  forgetting  that  music  it- 
self, not  talking  about  it  is  the  thing.  How  many  times  she  was 
heard  to  insist:  "To  understand  music  you  must  hear  it,  to  love 
music  you  must  hear  it,  to  believe  in  music  you  must  hear  it." 
Her  disciples  were  taught  to  listen  well. 

Beyond  duty,  beyond  pleasure  Carreno  saw  in  music  a  way 
of  life,  demanding  full  dedication.  She  made  her  pupils  aware 
that  the  most  beautiful  piece  of  craftsmanship  is  not  necessarily 
art,  that  art  means  selfless  surrender  to  the  cause  of  the  com- 
poser by  a  soul  that  is  stirred.  "It  is  a  serious  thing  to  me  to 
play  Beethoven,"  Carreno  once  said.  "When  I  play  one  of  his 
Sonates,  I  say  a  prayer  with  every  phrase,  that  I  may  be  guided 
to  interpret  it  as  he  meant  it  to  be."  She  had  no  patience  with 
those  who  looked  for  other  than  inner  rewards  in  music,  who 
entered  upon  this  calling  in  a  spirit  of  self-seeking.  To  such 
she  gave  warning:  "Art  and  commercialism  are  born  enemies, 
far  more  than  England  and  Germany.  They  never  shake 
hands." 

Art  as  a  way  of  life  led  to  a  more  universal  conception  still. 
It  was  a  religion  to  which  in  all  faith  she  was  consecrated. 


370  TERESA  CARRENO 

"Without  God  there  can  be  no  true  great  art,"  Carreno  once 
quoted  in  a  letter  to  her  son,  and  it  was  not  in  ritual  but  in  art 
that  she  found  her  God. 

Guiding  principles  of  so  inclusive  dimensions  were  hard  in- 
deed to  compress  into  outline  form  for  a  student.  It  was  not  in 
Carreno  to  try  to  do  it.  Nothing  could  be  less  congenial  to  her 
than  the  academic  way.  According  to  the  inspiration  of  the 
moment  she  permitted  visions  of  her  inner  world  to  sift 
through,  radiant,  treasurable  particles  among  more  practical, 
less  colorful  grains.  It  was  left  to  the  student  to  choose  and  sort 
and  carry  away  what  he  found  useful.  The  supply  was  un- 
fathomable. 

High  moments  are  likely  to  bring  balancing  pits  of  depres- 
sion. There  was,  alas,  no  regular  weekly  lesson  hour  for  the 
Carreno  student.  It  was  not  unusual  for  him  to  wait  anxiously 
for  a  month  before  being  summoned  for  a  hearing,  or  to  be 
called  at  too  short  notice  only  to  be  met  at  the  door  by  Jose- 
phine with  a  contrite:  "I'm  so  sorry,  but  Madame  is  unable  to 
teach  this  afternoon.  She  is  suffering  from  a  very  severe  head- 
ache." On  one  occasion  Carreno  and  one  of  her  students  were 
on  the  train  homeward  bound  after  a  hard-working  summer. 
"My  dear,"  said  Carreno,  "it  just  occurs  to  me  that  we  have 
never  studied  a  Beethoven  sonate  together.  Bring  me  the  opus  no 
next  Thursday."  Rather  than  lose  the  opportunity  the  pupil 
rushed  from  the  station  to  the  apartment,  worked  day  and 
night,  even  allowing  herself  to  be  fed  at  the  piano,  and  finally 
appeared  with  her  sonate  for  a  lesson  that  lasted  through  the 
morning  and  proved  to  be  the  most  profitable  of  them  all. 

As  there  was  no  fixed  weekly  lesson  hour,  so  there  was  no 
timing  of  the  lesson  itself.  Carreno  taught  as  long  or  as  briefly 
as  she  pleased,  sometimes  even  by  correspondence.  If  absorbed, 
two  hours  might  pass  without  a  break,  while  the  teakettle  sang 
in  the  dining  room,  and  the  family  awaited  the  opening  of  the 
door  patiently.  They  found  amusement  in  the  interim  by  ridi- 
culing the  remarks  and  mistakes  that  filtered  through.  On  the 
other  hand  a  lesson  not  fully  prepared,  or  one  to  which  Car- 


TERESA  CARRENO  371 

refio  was  unsympathetically  inclined,  might  terminate  in  less 
than  half  of  the  usual  hour.  One  young  aspirant,  coming  for  a 
first  audition,  failed  completely  to  measure  up  to  standard.  Af- 
ter twenty  minutes  the  door  closed  behind  her.  The  customary 
bill  for  a  regular  lesson  was  sent  and  promptly  contested  by  the 
young  girl:  "Kindly  state  what  Madame  Carreno  charges  for 
a  twenty  minute  talk?"  The  reply,  sent  by  Arturo,  was  equally 
brief.  "Your  mother  asked  Madame  Carreno  to  give  you  a  les- 
son which  she  did.  Madame  Carreno's  time  in  music  is  not 
measured  by  minutes  but  by  the  lesson."  The  bill  was  paid 
under  further  protest. 

What  would  happen  in  the  lesson  was  quite  as  unpredictable. 
Carreno  felt  no  obligation  to  cover  assigned  ground.  Some- 
times the  hour  passed  in  the  minute  consideration  of  a  page  or 
two  of  a  composition  which  an  ambitious  student  had  prepared 
in  full.  Sometimes  a  technical  detail  that  needed  righting 
showed  her  in  relentless  vein,  hammering  at  the  problem  with 
patience  that  outlasted  her  pupil's,  unmindful  of  tears  shed  in 
the  process,  until  it  had  been  mastered  once  and  for  all.  Les- 
sons like  these  were  not  the  least  valuable  ones.  Then  again 
there  were  times  when,  sitting  at  the  far  end  of  the  room,  Car- 
reno listened  without  a  word  while  a  whole  movement  un- 
folded itself.  Then  might  come  the  moment  which  meant 
compensation  for  long  hours  of  floundering.  "You  played  that 
like  an  angel,  my  darling  child,  like  a  real  artist." 

More  often  than  not  Carreno  allowed  herself  to  react  spon- 
taneously without  continuity  of  plan,  throwing  in  a  suggestion 
here,  illustrating  a  point  there,  indicating  the  orchestral  part 
for  the  Concerto  on  the  second  piano  (while  the  cigarette 
glowed  on  between  her  small,  white  teeth),  leaving  it  to  the 
student  to  draw  the  inferences,  make  the  connections  later  on 
at  home.  By  instinct  she  felt  her  way  into  the  recesses  of  a 
student's  personality.  Pedagogically  she  was  a  democrat  and  re- 
frained from  imposing  her  established  individuality  upon  one 
still  in  process  of  formation.  She  was  sincere  in  saying:  "It  is 
no  compliment  to  the  teacher  to  be  told  that  her  pupil  plays  as 


372  TERESA  CARRENO 

he  does."  Rather  should  he  be  the  clarifying  mirror  in  which 
the  student  sees  himself  as  he  is. 

So  recognizing  the  relation  between  teacher  and  student  as 
a  very  personal  one,  Carreno  frankly  admitted  that  her  way  of 
teaching  might  not  be  right  for  every  student.  She  grew  to  be 
more  and  more  careful  in  her  choice.  A  student  lacking  in  ad- 
vancement but  otherwise  well  taught  was  advised  to  continue 
with  his  former  teacher;  to  another  she  recommended  study 
with  Leschetitzky,  although  his  ideas  were  different  from  her 
own,  because  she  felt  that  this  person  would  be  more  easily  at 
home  in  his  method.  For  drill  in  the  fundamentals  of  her 
technical  principles  she  sent  pupils  to  her  understudy,  Bruno 
Gortatowsky,  and  later  on  to  Eugenia.  A  person  for  whom  she 
felt  an  intuitive  dislike  was  refused  admittance  to  her  class  no 
matter  how  well  he  played. 

Once  the  pupil  was  accepted,  Carreno  expected  complete  re- 
sponsiveness. A  young  American  girl  came  for  a  first  lesson. 
Technically  maladjusted,  she  was  initiated  into  Carreno's  way 
of  doing,  very  unlike  her  own.  "But  Madame,"  she  pleaded, 
"you  are  not  going  to  change  my  technique,  are  you?"  "Don't 
worry,  my  dear,"  Carreno  reassured  her.  "I  am  not  going  to 
change  your  technique.  I  am  going  to  give  you  some." 

Disregarding  the  laws  of  professional  etiquette  always  ended 
in  abrupt  dismissal.  As  she  would  not  receive  as  her  student  one 
who  was  still  officially  under  the  direction  of  another,  so  she  re- 
fused to  see  again  a  girl  who,  she  discovered,  in  order  to  double 
results,  was  studying  with  two  teachers  at  the  same  time.  On 
one  point  especially  she  was  adamant.  No  one  had  the  right  to 
advertise  herself  a  Carreno  pupil  without  her  sanction.  It  en- 
raged her  to  hear  that  a  certain  Fraulein  was  giving  lectures  on 
the  "Carreno  Method"  before  one  of  the  outstanding  musical 
organizations  in  Berlin  when,  in  Carreno's  opinion,  she  could 
not  have  had  enough  lessons  to  master  her  ideas.  A  letter  to 
the  president  of  this  Verein  put  a  sudden  end  to  the  series.  On 
another  occasion,  Carreno  was  giving  a  concert  in  a  small  mid- 
Western  town.  In  passing  the  local  manager  happened  to  men- 


TERESA  CARRENO  373 

tion:  "Madame,  one  of  your  most  enthusiastic  pupils  is  teach- 
ing your  method  here."  Carreno  could  not  remember  the  name, 
though  she  had  an  almost  infallible  memory  for  names.  So  she 
asked  that  the  young  lady  be  brought  to  the  green  room. 
Neither  was  it  a  face  she  remembered,  and  Carreno  had  an 
equally  infallible  memory  for  faces.  "When  did  you  study  with 
me,  Miss  B?"  asked  Carreno.  "My  memory  is  so  poor."  "Ma- 
dame, I  really  must  confess  that  I  never  had  a  formal  lesson.  But 
when  you  were  in  Italy  one  summer  I  used  to  sit  beneath  the 
window  when  you  were  practicing.  I  learned  more  from  you 
then  than  from  any  other  teacher  I  ever  had."  "It  takes  an  artist 
to  learn  from  hearing  an  artist,"  was  Carreno's  comment  as  she 
turned  away  disgusted.  Again  in  San  Francisco  she  was  to  play 
the  Tschaikowsky  "Concerto."  The  rehearsal  went  badly.  The 
conductor  took  strange  liberties.  When  Carreno  frankly  ex- 
pressed her  displeasure,  he  explained  to  her  hearty  amusement: 
"You  see  it  was  this  way,  Madame.  I  wanted  particularly  to  be 
ready  for  your  coming.  A  young  pianist,  your  devoted  pupil, 
told  me  that  he  knew  exactly  how  you  wished  the  Concerto  to 
be  interpreted.  So  I  asked  him  to  rehearse  it  with  the  orchestra 
several  times  last  week."  "And  who  may  this  young  man  be?" 
asked  Carreno.  "Mr.  C  ?  Yes,  I  remember  him  perfectly.  I  can- 
not have  given  him  more  than  three  lessons  in  all.  Do  ask  him 
to  call  upon  me  at  my  hotel."  Needless  to  say,  Mr.  C.  thought 
it  the  better  part  of  valor  to  stay  away. 

Once  adopted  as  a  "Berlin  son  or  daughter"  the  student  had 
Carreno's  full  backing.  Her  propaganda  was  forceful  and  un- 
reserved, couched  in  superlatives  in  keeping  with  her  enthu- 
siasm. That  her  satellites  adored  her  was  common  knowledge 
in  musical  circles.  They  arranged  concerts  for  her,  often  created 
the  background  for  a  successful  appearance  through  the  atmos- 
phere of  eagerness  they  radiated  within  their  communities. 
This  give  and  take  with  her  musical  children  was  no  small 
compensation  in  Carreno's  life  of  trouble,  especially  during  the 
later  years. 

In  Carreno's  teaching  there  were  points  that  she  considered 


374  TERESA  CARRENO 

worthy  of  plentiful  repetition.  The  most  important  one  was 
physical  fitness.  Steady  nerves,  strength  and  quiet,  fresh  air  and 
exercise  in  it  were  to  her  the  sine  qua  non  of  success.  She  was 
radical  enough  to  say:  "It  is  better  to  work  too  little  than  too 
much."  In  the  summer  she  might  knock  at  the  door  of  an  over- 
conscientious  plodder.  "I  am  going  for  a  walk,  my  dear.  Will 
you  come  with  me  ?  It  will  do  you  good.  You  can  do  twice  as 
much  in  half  the  time  later  on."  Nobody  would  have  thought 
of  refusing  such  an  invitation,  even  if  the  heavens  were  behav- 
ing in  the  approved  Upper  Bavarian  manner,  disgorging  water- 
falls upon  the  great  and  the  ungreat,  obscuring  vision  until  one 
might  as  well  have  been  in  Illinois  for  all  the  sense  there  was 
of  mountains  capped  with  snow.  Enshrouded  like  monks  in 
water-shedding  capes  of  Loden  cloth,  heavy  shoes  thoroughly 
oiled,  they  went  on  and  on  for  hours.  Is  there  anything  more 
restful  to  tired  nerves  than  the  rain?  It  is  the  nearest  we  shall 
come  to  wearing  the  Tarn\appe  which  made  Siegfried  invis- 
ible. To  walk  silently  by  her  side  on  days  like  these  was  to 
know  Carreno  well. 

True  to  her  reputation  as  the  most  universal  of  pianists  Car- 
reno insisted  again  and  again  that  every  composition  be  treated 
as  a  whole.  Music  and  gesture  should  be  at  one.  As  strongly  as 
Wagner  she  dwelt  upon  this.  Interpretation  meant  revealing 
the  essential  no  more  than  subordinating  the  unessential.  Free- 
dom therefore  was  artistic  economy  in  its  truest  sense,  "he  trop 
est  ennemi  du  bien"  said  Rubinstein.  Could  there  be  anything 
more  ridiculous  than  an  exaggerated  flourish  of  the  arm  at  the 
end  of  a  Beethoven  Andante?  Could  the  ideal  of  every  serious 
pianist,  that  the  performer  be  forgotten  in  the  music  he  plays, 
be  attained  without  self -abnegating  oneness  of  music  and  mo- 
tion  ?  As  a  case  in  point  Carreno  insisted  that  the  holding  of  a 
chord  must  not  be  left  to  the  pedal  alone,  while  the  hands  lie 
idle  in  the  lap,  as  if  the  piano  were  a  mechanical  one  playing 
on  alone.  To  achieve  unity  inwardly  and  outwardly  in  architec- 
tural proportion,  this  should  be  the  aim  of  the  coming  artist. 

Simplicity  was  another  keynote  of  her  teaching.  A  great  com- 


TERESA  CARRENO  375 

position  does  not  become  greater  by  distortion.  Lack  of  man- 
nerism, accurate  adherence  to  the  spirit  of  a  composition,  with- 
out pedantic  enslavement  to  the  letter  of  a  particular  edition — 
although  she  had  her  favorites — she  considered  fundamental. 
If  a  student  after  sufficient  study  developed  a  conviction  con- 
trary to  the  indications  of  the  composer  or  to  her  own  Carreno 
made  no  objection.  She  remembered  that  as  a  child  of  fourteen 
she  had  played  a  certain  passage  forte  where  piano  was  noted. 
Matthias,  her  teacher  at  that  time,  drew  attention  to  the  mis- 
take. At  the  next  repetition  the  same  thing  occurred.  Manuel 
Antonio,  always  a  silent  observer  at  these  lessons,  scolded  her  for 
her  supposed  inattention.  Teresita  answered:  "But  I  can't  play 
it  that  way.  I  don't  feel  it  that  way."  Matthias  wisely  put  in  his 
word.  "Let  her  play  it  as  she  likes.  Later  she  may  change  and 
do  it  in  my  way  of  her  own  accord."  And  she  admitted  long 
after,  "So  I  did." 

Neither  was  Carreno  fussy  about  fingerings.  She  urged  each 
student  to  study  her  own  band,  to  find  for  herself  the  fingering 
that  suited  it  best,  and  then  to  stick  to  it.  In  case  of  difficulty 
she  recommended  practicing  passages  with  different  finger- 
ings to  iron  out  the  trouble,  as  well  as  transposing  them  into 
other  keys,  keeping  the  fingering  the  same. 

"El  todo  para  el  pianista  es  el  colorido"  Carreno  is  reported 
to  have  said.  This  may  be  an  editorial  overstatement.  It  is  true, 
however,  that  above  everything  she  valued  variety  in  interpreta- 
tion, this  rather  to  be  achieved  by  changes  of  tone  effect  than  by 
rhythmic  shiftings.  Cultivating  differences  of  touch  in  staccato 
and  legato,  increasing  the  dynamic  range  at  both  ends,  was  as 
much  her  ambition  for  the  student  as  keeping  tone  always 
within  the  margin  of  the  beautiful,  never  allowing  it  to  over- 
reach the  limitations  of  the  piano  mechanism.  As  she  believed  in 
making  the  most  of  a  roaring  climax,  so  she  did  in  the  effective 
value  of  exploring  the  softest  depths  to  the  last  whisper.  That  she 
considered  the  pedal  a  most  important  aid  in  achieving  shading  is 
proved  by  the  fact  that  the  only  work  ever  written  by  her  was 
on  that  subject.  In  it  she  made  clear  not  only  its  great  possi- 


376  TERESA  CARRENO 

bilities,  but  also  cautioned  against  its  abuse.  Like  fire  and  water 
she  esteemed  it  a  good  servant  but  a  bad  master,  and  as  strongly 
as  Clara  Schumann  herself  she  stood  out  against  the  pseudo- 
artists  who  wallow  in  " Pedal gerassel  una1  V erschiebungsgefuhl" 
(pedal  rattling  and  soft-pedal  feeling). 

Carreno  was  by  intuition  an  excellent  psychologist.  Diffi- 
culties, she  counseled,  become  easy  by  thinking  them  so.  The 
student  found  it  true.  She  urged  on  the  timid,  pinned  down  the 
inaccurate,  and  made  the  overconfident  aware  of  his  weak- 
nesses. When  confronted  by  that  common  phenomenon,  the 
nervous  pupil,  she  quieted  him  by  making  light  of  his  obsession. 
"Do  you  prefer  that  I  go  into  the  garden,  my  dear,  while  you 
play?"  Or  she  quoted  Gottschalk,  who  advised  his  own  dis- 
ciples: "Never  be  afraid  to  play  before  an  artist.  The  artist 
listens  for  that  which  is  well  done,  the  person  who  knows  noth- 
ing listens  for  the  faults."  She  made  him  transcend  the  mecha- 
nism of  the  instrument,  and  even  his  less  reliable  self,  by  bringing 
him  to  experience  the  joy  she  felt  in  playing  to  others.  She 
brought  him  for  the  time  to  forget  that  he  was  a  learner,  to 
shake  off  the  chains  that  forged  him  to  the  teacher,  to  play 
simply,  directly;  she  taught  him  to  respect  his  inner  man  as  his 
only  dictator.  When  in  a  lesson  repetition  had  called  for  more 
repetition,  punctuated  with  an  inexorable:  "No,  my  child,  that 
is  not  it  at  all !  Relax,  my  dear,  do  not  articulate.  You  are  play- 
ing the  piano,  not  shoveling  snow";  the  hour  was  not  allowed 
to  end  with  minor  inflection  but  on  an  ascending  note  of  encour- 
agement: "That  was  not  bad  at  all,  my  child,  not  bad  at  all. 
And  now  you  shall  have  a  cup  of  tea  to  make  up  for  the  trouble 
your  severe  old  teacher  gives  you."  Supposing  that  in  spite  of 
her  prodding  the  difficulty  under  consideration  had  not  been 
mastered  beyond  possibility  of  future  error,  instead  of  attack- 
ing it  again  the  next  time  in  the  same  passage,  another  similar 
one  was  substituted  to  clinch  the  matter.  For  example  a  student 
was  assigned  the  "Concert  Study  in  D  flat"  by  Liszt.  She  reacted 
to  it  negatively,  consequently  playing  it  badly,  perfunctorily. 
"Why,  my  darling  child,  it  sounds  as  if  you  had  just  come  out 


TERESA  CARRENO  377 

of  a  convent.  Let's  try  the  one  in  F  minor  for  next  time.  I  think 
you  practice  too  long  at  a  time.  I  must  send  Hertha  to  you  to- 
morrow for  a  game  of  tennis."  That  did  not  seem  to  help.  Re- 
lentlessly Liszt  followed  upon  Liszt  until  Grindelwald  and 
Liszt  could  never  again  exist  apart  in  the  mind  of  the  student. 
One  day  confronted  by  yet  another  composition  of  this  com- 
poser she  exploded,  "I  can't  bear  another  thing  of  his.  I  hate 
every  note  he  wrote.  It's  sugar  and  water."  "Splendid,  my  child, 
you  are  showing  signs  of  just  the  temperament  it  takes  to  play 
Liszt  well.  If,  detesting  Liszt  as  you  do,  you  play  him  beauti- 
fully notwithstanding,  how  much  more  of  an  artist  you  will  be! 
Bring  me  "Mazeppa"  next  time,  if  you  please."  The  student  sur- 
vived the  heroic  treatment,  learned  to  understand  the  greater 
Liszt,  and  lived  to  earn  the  seal  of  approval  for  her  reading  of 
the  "Liszt  Sonate."  Not  until  then  was  she  permitted  to  turn 
to  other  more  congenial  tasks. 

Ten  Carreno  pupils  meeting  together  would  agree  only  upon 
this — that  they  had  been  taught  in  ten  different  ways.  But  not 
one  would  have  exchanged  that  experience,  unorganized  as  it 
was,  for  another.  What  after  all  is  great  teaching  but  bringing 
the  student  alive  to  the  beautiful  in  music  and  making  him 
conscious  of  his  mission  to  keep  it  so  with  everything  within  his 
power.  In  that  sense  Carreno  was  a  great  teacher. 

The  first  business  talk  with  Mr.  Cochran  had  revealed  a  star- 
tling state  of  things.  It  came  to  light  that  instead  of  thirty  con- 
certs there  were  only  three  that  could  be  counted  upon  at  the 
moment.  The  cable  had  been  garbled  in  the  sending.  Carreno 
was  deeply  indignant.  She  might  then  have  stayed  near  her 
children  in  her  own  apartment.  With  the  utmost  difficulty  she 
brought  herself  to  consider  the  other  side  of  the  medal.  Even- 
tually she  might  be  glad  she  had  come  away.  There  would  be 
plenty  of  leisure  for  teaching.  Only  a  short  declaration  of  inten- 
tion in  the  musical  journals,  and  students  would  come  swarm- 
ing as  they  always  had  without  resorting  even  to  such  means. 
Now  that  she  was  really  in  the  United  States  there  would  also 


378  TERESA  CARRENO 

be  other  calls  for  her  participation.  Yet  the  blow  was  a  vital  one. 
She  would  not  be  able  to  afford  the  comfort  of  Arturo's  protect- 
ing presence  on  her  journeys,  or  the  services  of  a  personal  maid. 
In  their  apartment  they  must  now  content  themselves  with  only 
one  helper.  On  the  maid's  free  afternoons  Carrefio  herself  did 
the  cooking,  washed  the  dishes,  and  thought  nothing  of  wel- 
coming guests  at  the  door  enveloped  in  a  kitchen  apron.  Some 
of  her  happiest  moments  were  spent  in  this  domestic  way.  But 
she  could  not  dust  away  her  anxiety  about  the  children  from 
whom  there  was  no  word  for  two  long  months.  At  the  sight  of 
a  photograph  of  Hertha  placed  upon  her  dressing  table  by  a 
friend  who  thought  it  would  please  her,  she  burst  into  a  fit  of 
uncontrolled  weeping. 

This  worry  was  consigned  to  the  background  to  make  way 
for  a  more  tangible  one.  Just  as  she  was  about  to  step  out  upon 
die  platform  to  begin  her  Boston  recital  on  October  22,  Car- 
reno  received  word  of  the  illness  of  Arturo,  laid  low  by  an  at- 
tack of  acute  appendicitis.  Only  force  of  will  made  her  go 
through  with  the  performance,  kept  her  from  infecting  her 
audience  with  her  own  restlessness.  A  few  days  of  surpassing 
length  and  the  danger  was  past,  the  operation  avoided.  Carreno, 
again  at  home  for  a  breathing  space,  hovered  over  her  husband, 
showered  him  with  delicacies  she  ought  not  to  have  afforded, 
and  touched  his  heart  with  the  gift  of  a  very  comfortable  and 
expensive  armchair  in  which  to  spend  the  tedious  hours  of  con- 
valescence. When  finally  she  tore  herself  away  to  fulfill  her  en- 
gagements in  the  Middle  West,  she  wrote  from  every  possible 
stopping  place  in  words  that  were  full  of  affectionate  concern. 
From  Duluth  came  a  solicitous  letter,  as  usual  in  Italian : 

Most  beloved  and  most  dear  Turo  mio:  I  cannot  tell  you  the  joy 
which  your  dear,  dear  letter  gave  me.  A  thousand  times  thousand 
thanks,  Turo  mio.  I  understand  that  you  are  not  yet  capable  of  writ- 
ing long  letters,  and  I  do  not  wish  that  you  should  tire  yourself  giving 
me  more  than  the  news  of  how  you  are  feeling.  For  the  time  being  I 
shall  content  myself  with  this,  and  I  can't  tell  you  how  grateful  I 
am  to  the  good  God  who  had  helped  you  to  regain  your  health  and 


TERESA  CARRENO  379 

your  strength!  What  a  fright  you  gave  me,  Turo  mio!  Don't  do  it 
again,  I  beg  of  you!  Be  very  careful  and  do  nothing  that  might  cause 
you  the  slightest  disturbance,  for  the  love  of  God! — That  for  today, 
my  well-beloved!  Take  good  care  of  yourself  and  remember  that 
your  health  is  my  necessity  and  my  joy  and  comfort.  A  million  tender 
kisses  from  your  old  wife  Teresa. 

Ten  days  later  she  wrote  from  Chicago : 

My  most  dear  and  most  beloved  husband :  Thousands  and  thousands 
of  thanks  for  your  two  dear  letters  with  which  you  gave  me  most 
great  pleasure,  Turo  mio!  My  thoughts  are  always  with  you,  and  my 
prayers  for  your  health  fly  to  God  with  every  thought,  and  you  can 
imagine  how  happy  I  am  to  feel  that  you  are  improving  and  recov- 
ering completely.  God  be  thanked  thousands  and  thousands  of  times! 
You  can  imagine  too  the  joy  I  had  in  receiving  the  letter  of  our 
Eugenia ! !  It  was  a  real  feast  to  have  the  good  news  of  you  and  our 
children!  How  I  thank  the  good  God  for  having  also  granted  me 
this  boon.  Don't  be  worried  about  my  cold,  "ma  guarda  e  passa."  I 
feel  better,  thank  God.  You  should  be  accustomed  to  these  colds  of 
mine  by  now,  which,  as  you  know,  keep  company  with  me  all  winter. 
Aside  from  that  everything  goes  well. 

So  she  characteristically  made  light  of  her  own  troubles. 

On  December  11,  1916,  Carreno  returned  to  Arturo  for  the 
Christmas  hiatus,  spent  gaily  enough  among  friends  who  did 
their  best  to  distract  her  from  thought  of  the  double  distance 
war  had  created  between  her  and  her  children,  from  the  omi- 
nous vastness  of  empty  silence.  It  made  little  impression  that  she 
played  to  Woodrow  Wilson  in  the  White  House  where  once  she 
had  thought  as  little  of  playing  to  Lincoln.  Neither  did  it  reach 
beneath  the  surface,  although  for  the  moment  she  was  touched 
by  it,  that  the  orchestra  in  Kansas  City  greeted  her  entrance 
upon  the  stage  with  a  rousing  fanfare,  and  that  the  whole  audi- 
ence rose  to  its  feet  by  automatic  impulse.  These  things  had 
ceased  to  matter.  She  had  drunk  to  the  full  from  the  chalice  of 
ovations.  Her  real  happiness  lay  in  her  playing  and  in  solitude 
shared  with  Arturo,  her  hope  in  reunion  with  her  children. 

One  afternoon  in  Carreno's  music  room,  where  a  photograph 


380  TERESA  CAJtRENO 

of  Liszt  presided  on  the  open  Steinway,  twilight  was  inviting 
reminiscence.  A  circle  of  friends  from  Caracas  sat  listening  as 
she  described  her  visit  to  the  Court  of  Spain,  while  they  cozily 
stirred  their  tea  and  looked  far  down  upon  the  dreamy  Hudson. 
J.  Perez  Lee,  a  journalist,  eager  to  know  what  her  feelings 
were  about  the  land  of  her  birth,  turned  conversation  back  to 
her  Venezuelan  past.  Carreno  lowered  her  voice  and  spoke 
with  slow  emphasis.  "Sometimes  I  cherished  her  for  her  mis- 
fortunes, sometimes  for  the  generosity  of  her  nature,  always  as 
an  irreplaceable  mother.  Upon  her  bosom  I  wish  to  sleep  the 
dream  of  earth.  It  is  there  that  I  wish  my  ashes  to  rest."  Then 
simply  and  naturally  without  trace  of  dread  she  talked  on  about 
death  as  fulfillment,  death  as  a  friend,  and  so  they  sat  together 
for  a  long  time  in  deepening  darkness. 

As  the  season  began,  concerts  popped  up  like  puffballs  where 
they  were  least  expected.  There  would  be  in  all  as  many  as  Mr. 
Cochran  had  cabled  in  the  first  place,  even  if  at  fees  somewhat 
lower  than  those  anticipated.  Besides,  there  was  abundance  of 
private  teaching  in  odd  moments  and  flourishing  classes  at  the 
American  Institute  of  Applied  Music.  During  the  past  years  in 
Germany,  Carreno  had  pioneered  in  the  making  of  rolls  for 
the  Duo-Art,  the  Welte,  the  Ampico.  Reproducing  mechanisms 
had  brought  her  little  satisfaction.  In  the  first  place  the  ordeal 
of  playing  for  the  making  of  the  master  roll  was  nerve-racking. 
She  was  overcome  by  stage  fright  unknown  in  a  whole  lifetime 
of  concerts.  Hertha  once  had  accompanied  her  for  moral  sup- 
port on  such  an  occasion.  The  lights  which  went  on  and  off,  the 
three  men  who  sat  busily  taking  notes,  the  mystifying  machin- 
ery, all  combined  to  upset  her,  so  that  the  initial  roll  was  a 
complete  failure.  When  finally  with  perspiration  standing  out 
in  beads  from  every  pore  she  had  completed  her  work,  her  re- 
lief was  such  that  she  suggested  a  pleasure  trip  on  the  Rhine 
for  recuperation.  The  results  of  her  recordings  all  disappointed 
her.  In  spite  of  hours  spent  in  revision  she  found  them  far  from 
true  to  her  style.  She  tried  to  have  a  number  recalled  from  pub- 
lication, unwilling  to  allow  experimentation  at  such  a  price. 


TERESA  CARRENO  381 

Strangely  enough  she  made  no  phonograph  records.  At  the  re- 
quest of  an  English  publisher,  she  did  undertake  the  drudgery 
of  editing  some  of  the  pieces  in  her  repertoire  according  to  her 
own  interpretation.  The  book  on  the  use  of  the  pedal  was  in  its 
final  stages.  Carrefio  worked  without  wasting  a  minute,  as  if 
against  time.  And  yet,  all  told,  the  year  brought  the  leanest  of 
harvests. 


Since  the  entrance  of  the  United  States  into  the  war  in  the 
spring  of  19 17,  news  from  Germany  could  come  by  way  of 
neutral  countries  only.  Frau  Sinding  volunteered  to  act  as  trans- 
mitter for  the  Carrenos.  From  the  sketchy  words  which  passed 
the  censor  the  anxious  mother  could  gather  little  that  was  per- 
sonal or  heartening.  In  reply  to  a  cable  in  which  Hertha  asked 
permission  to  marry  Louis  Weber,  a  young  engineer  from 
Reutlingen,  then  in  the  army,  Carreno  sent  her  blessing.  Did 
she  remember  that  this,  according  to  her  own  setting,  was  to 
give  the  signal  for  her  retirement?  If  so  she  repudiated  it. 

The  far-off  horizon  glowed  with  promise  of  activity.  The 
Chicago  Musical  College  was  engaging  her  for  a  lucrative 
summer  session  of  teaching.  After  that  a  South  American  tour 
was  in  prospect  beginning  with  Brazil.  On  the  way  back  she 
planned  to  show  Venezuela  to  Arturo  and  Arturo  to  Venezuela. 
This  time  it  should  be  a  different  homecoming.  The  winter  con- 
certs in  North  America  were  to  be  in  the  hands  of  Winston  & 
Livingston  and  were  already  being  widely  advertised.  This  was 
no  time  to  rest  upon  her  laurels.  "Indeed  not!" 

In  good  spirits  Carreno  set  out  for  Havana,  where  her  con- 
tract called  for  three  concerts,  by  way  of  St.  Petersburg,  Florida. 
There  the  Carreno  Club,  still  flourishing  today,  did  her  honor; 
there  she  played  a  final  recital  in  the  United  States  before  sail- 
ing on  the  Olivette  from  Tampa.  Arturo  accompanied  her 
mainly  for  the  sake  of  his  health.  Her  own  seemed  neither  bet- 
ter nor  worse  than  usual.  Shortly  before  landing  she  was  sitting 
on  the  forward  deck  of  the  steamer.  Arturo  noticed  his  wife 
rubbing  her  eyes  as  if  to  get  rid  of  an  irritation.  "What  on 
earth  do  you  suppose  is  the  matter  with  my  eyes,  Arturo?"  she 
asked  without  special  concern.  "I  see  two  of  you,  two  of  the 
chair,  two  of  everything."  Arturo  tried  to  reassure  her,  but  the 
condition  persisted.  At  the  pier  a  host  of  old  friends  and  new 
received  her  with  bouquets  of  Havana's  most  precious  roses. 
They  too  were  doubled  in  her  sight. 

As  soon  as  she  was  safely  established  in  the  Hotel  Trotcha  she 


TERESA  CARRENO  383 

decided  to  consult  the  best  available  oculist,  Senor  Desvernine. 
He  proved  to  be  one  who  as  a  little  boy  had  been  chosen  to 
crown  Teresita  the  prodigy  with  a  wreath  of  gold  in  this  same 
city.  Carreno  refused  as  ridiculous  his  advice  that  she  leave  at 
once  for  New  York.  She  must  not  fail  her  audience.  If  neces- 
sary she  could  play,  as  she  often  did,  with  eyes  closed.  Mean- 
while the  glasses  prescribed  for  her  needed  changing  after  a 
few  hours  of  use.  The  evening  came.  Carreno  played  in  mas- 
terly manner  as  usual,  wearing  a  dress  of  light-blue  satin  em- 
broidered in  a  beaded  pattern.  It  seemed  to  make  no  difference 
that  she  saw  two  keyboards  instead  of  one,  that  the  hall  was 
half  empty;  she  had  the  satisfaction  of  having  done  her  duty. 
But  for  the  command  of  her  doctors  that  she  return  to  New 
York,  she  might  have  attempted  a  second  concert.  On  the  fol- 
lowing morning  before  her  departure  she  called  upon  an  old 
lady  whose  visit  she  had  missed  the  day  before.  There  was  no 
indication  that  she  realized  the  seriousness  of  her  condition  un- 
til her  first  words  to  Mr.  Cochran  who  met  her  at  the  train. 
Quite  simply  she  warned  him:  "You  have  seen  your  old  friend 
for  the  last  time." 

Meanwhile  in  Havana  there  were  those  who  attributed  Car- 
refio's  departure  to  unmotivated  wilfullness  due  to  the  disap- 
pointment at  having  so  small  an  audience  to  welcome  her. 
La  Noche  indulged  in  sarcasm.  "Singular  coincidence!  Like 
Paderewski  Teresa  Carreno  is  prevented  from  giving  the  con- 
certs she  announced.  Both  artists  became  ill  in  our  healthful 
pure  climate.  We  hope  that  Mme.  Carreno  grows  better  shortly 
and  can  still  give  in  spite  of  her  great  age  many  concerts  .  .  . 
in  New  York." 

Three  eminent  New  York  physicians,  including  a  nerve  and 
a  heart  specialist,  did  everything  that  could  be  done.  They 
agreed  that  the  trouble  was  a  grave  one,  diplopia,  a  partial 
paralysis  of  the  optic  nerve  which  threatened  to  go  farther. 
Complete  quiet  and  a  strict  diet  were  prescribed.  Arturo,  de- 
spair in  his  heart,  watched  by  her  side  and  kept  hope  alive. 
Medicines  which  might  have  helped,  Carreno  was  unable  to 


384  TERESA  CARRENO 

assimilate.  General  nervous  prostration,  developing  unrecog- 
nized through  years  of  overstrain  without  adequate  relief,  had 
finally  found  this  local  outlet.  The  capital  of  strength  upon 
which  Carreno  had  too  recklessly  drawn  was  drained.  Once 
more  she  sat  down  at  her  Steinway  to  play  the  "Harmonious 
Blacksmith"  variations,  the  last  encore  of  her  Havana  recital, 
holding  out  with  difficulty  to  the  end.  It  was  to  be  the  last  tryst 
with  music. 

News  of  her  illness,  spreading  through  the  United  States, 
reached  as  far  as  Teresita  in  London,  but  not  to  her  children 
in  Germany.  With  satisfaction  Carreno  read  the  short  letter 
that  told  of  Hertha's  wedding  in  Munich  on  April  2.  It  had 
after  all  been  the  signal  from  a  higher  source  for  her  retire- 
ment and  not  alone  from  the  concert  platform.  She  understood 
and  was  not  afraid,  only  tired,  too  tired  even  to  send  messages  to 
her  children.  At  seven  o'clock  in  the  evening  on  June  12, 1917,  the 
Walkure  entered  Walhalla. 


It  came  to  pass  that  after  a  time  the  artist 
was  forgotten,  but  the  wor\  lived!' 
Olive  Schreiner 


AFTERGLOW 


NOTHING  could  be  less  of  Carrefio  than  the  conventional 
funeral  services.  Flowers  that  once  became  more  alive  in  her 
vital  hands  drooped  beneath  the  suffocating  weight  of  her 
absence.  She  who  once  spoke  to  her  "dear  Father"  in  music, 
and  to  whom  he  gave  answer  quite  as  directly  in  the  voice  of  nature, 
would  have  looked  pityingly  from  the  place  of  her  liberation  upon 
a  group  of  mortals,  celebrated  mortals  to  be  sure,  huddled  too  closely 
together  in  too  small  a  space,  to  do  honor  in  the  presence  of  that 
material  shell  from  which  the  pearl  of  great  price  had  escaped  to 
fuse  its  iridescence  with  that  of  the  sunset.  How  useless  the  tears  of 
this  sad  company  come  to  bid  farewell  after  the  hostess  had  gone. 
A  giant  fanfare  in  the  open,  a  moment  of  universal  silence,  each  one 
alone  with  his  thoughts!  That  would  have  been  the  perfect  tribute. 

But  even  death,  the  bridge  that  each  must  cross  alone,  has  its  social 
obligations.  On  the  morning  of  Thursday,  June  14,  1917,  as  the  hour 
neared  eleven,  Carreno's  colleagues,  friends,  and  students  filled  her 
living  room.  None  of  the  many  artists  who  had  had  close  association 
with  her  felt  equal  to  making  music  for  this  occasion.  Strangers  in- 
toned "Nearer,  my  God,  to  Thee"  and  "Oh,  rest  in  the  Lord."  Dr. 
Louis  K.  Anspacher  of  Columbia  gave  the  commemorative  address. 

The  honorary  pallbearers  were  Ignace  Jan  Paderewski,  Ernest 
Hutcheson,  Walter  Damrosch,  Walter  Rothwell,  Josef  Stransky, 
Mischa  Elman,  Franz  Kneisel,  Albert  Spalding,  and  Charles  Stein- 
way. 

After  the  services  a  few  friends  accompanied  Arturo  to  Union 
Hill,  N.J.,  where,  according  to  the  wish  of  the  Walkiire,  and  most 
fittingly,  her  body  was  consigned  to  the  encircling  flames,  an  act 
which  in  welcoming  salute  Heaven  itself  punctuated  by  a  crash  of 
thunder. 

In  the  summer  of  1935  this  biographer  took  a  trip  to  Venezuela  in  the 
interest  of  her  book.  Except  for  a  painting  of  Carrefio  in  the  early 
years  hanging  in  the  Teatro  Municipal,  and  an  unrecognizable  bust 
standing  neglected  and  in  need  of  dusting  on  the  floor  of  a  room  of 
the  Academia  de  Musica,  she  found  little  external  evidence  that  this 
great  artist  was  appreciated  by  her  own  people.  Among  the  musicians 
and  scholars  of  Caracas  the  eager  response  whenever  her  name  was 
mentioned  was  all  the  more  surprising.  That  her  ashes  had  not  yet 


388  TERESA  CARRENO 

found  a  definitive  place  of  rest  after  so  many  years  aroused  consterna- 
tion. Carreno's  own  wish  that  she  be  buried  in  her  mother  country, 
although  several  times  published,  had  failed  to  draw  attention.  Now 
a  few  words  only,  and  the  proper  authorities  wakened  to  action. 
Mr.  Rudolf  Dolge  became  the  moving  spirit  of  the  undertaking  to 
bring  about  the  repatriation  of  the  ashes  of  Venezuela's  great  daugh- 
ter. In  this  he  was  seconded  by  Senor  Don  Salvador  Llamozas,  the 
Dean  of  pianists  in  Caracas,  and  one  who  had  been  among  those 
chosen  to  welcome  Carreno  home  in  1885. 

Arturo  Tagliapietra  was  readily  convinced  that  no  more  fitting 
honor  could  be  offered  the  memory  of  his  wife.  The  death  of  Presi- 
dent Gomez  delayed  the  execution  of  the  plan,  and  not  until  February, 
1938,  were  the  ashes,  housed  in  a  dignified  urn  of  greenish  bronze 
which  the  Venezuelan  sculptor,  Nicholas  Veloz,  had  fashioned, 
brought  home  on  the  S.S.  Santa  Paula.  That  the  event  might  not 
take  place  without  the  presence  of  at  least  one  member  of  Carreno's 
immediate  family,  Teresita  was  invited  to  come  to  Caracas  from 
London  as  guest  of  the  Government.  Together  with  a  deputation  of 
distinguished  citizens  she  waited  at  La  Guaira  to  receive  the  urn 
which  was  immediately  taken  to  the  chapel  of  the  Cementerio  del  Sur 
in  Caracas.  After  a  brief  religious  service  in  this  place  it  was  set  upon 
the  marble  pedestal  erected  for  it  in  the  poets'  corner.  There,  just  as 
the  sun  was  setting,  while  the  Military  Band  of  Caracas  played  Beet- 
hoven's "Funeral  March,"  President  Contreras,  in  the  presence  of 
Carreno's  relatives,  of  members  of  the  diplomatic  corps,  and  of  rep- 
resentatives of  societies  who  laid  their  wreaths  around  the  pedestal, 
unveiled  the  urn  draped  in  the  colors  of  Venezuela  and  of  the  United 
States.  In  brief  but  moving  words  Jose  Antonio  Calcano  made  the 
address  of  dedication  with  which  the  ceremony  closed. 

That  evening  in  the  Teatro  Municipal,  once  the  Teatro  Guzman 
Blanco  where  Carreno  was  so  often  heard,  a  great  concert  took  place 
in  her  memory.  It  lasted  over  two  hours.  There  sounded  once  again 
Cayetano  Carreno's  Mass,  "La  Oracion  en  el  Huerto,"  Carreno's 
"String  Quartette,"  and  her  "Hymn  to  Bolivar."  Fittingly  Juan 
Bautista  Plaza,  who  now  fills  the  post  of  Maestro  de  Capilla  once  held 
by  Carreno's  ancestors,  was  chosen  to  give  the  comprehensive  and 
eminently  appropriate  address  of  the  evening.  At  this  time  a  stamp 
was  also  issued  in  her  honor.  This  indeed  was  a  worthy  homecoming. 
Carreno  would  not  have  been  indifferent  to  it. 


CARACAS  I938 

Teresa  Carreno  repatriated 


TERESA  CARRENO  389 

So  it  is  best  to  leave  her.  Since  her  last  flight  it  has  not  been  per- 
mitted that  any  other  reach  her  universal  height,  that  any  take  her 
place.  She  is  a  memory,  an  influence,  a  belief,  a  legend.  Such  are  the 
steep  steps  to  oblivion.  In  essence  she  exists  wherever  great  music 
sounds,  wherever  her  artistic  credo  strikes  a  responsive  chord. 

To  the  young  musicians  of  Venezuela  her  life  will  remain  a  guid- 
ing torch.  Whether  her  ashes  stand  beneath  the  stars  or  are  moved  in 
due  time  to  a  shadowy  recess  of  the  Panteon  to  keep  august  company 
with  Bolivar,  so  many  of  whose  traits  she  shared,  wherever  music  is 
loved,  a  voice  will  still  be  heard  by  those  attuned  to  listen,  saying, 
"I  am  Carreno." 


POSTLUDE 

Teresa  Carreno 

An  article  in  honor  of  Carreno's  Sixtieth  Birthday 

by 

Dr.  Walter  Niemann 

from  Reclam's  Universum,  December  i,  1913 

I  PAINT  two  pictures  of  Carreno's  playing.  It  has  never  seen  its 
equal  in  fascinating  virility  and  hypnotic  power  among  the  mae- 
stros  of  piano  virtuosity.  The  first  is  the  Carreno  of  the  i88o's  and 
i89o's,  the  second  the  Carreno  of  today. 
A  Carreno  evening  in  the  wonderful  Empire  styled  hall  of  the 
Kurtheater  in  Wiesbaden,  tuned  to  white,  gold,  sparkling  crystal 
chandeliers  and  heavy  pillars  of  marble!  A  brilliant,  cosmopolitan 
gathering,  the  hall  completely  sold  out,  high  and  stormy  waves  of 
enthusiasm,  encore  after  encore — that  was  its  setting.  The  enthusiasm 
was  the  spontaneous  honoring  by  the  artistically  imaginative  people 
of  Germany  for  a  very  great  personality,  for  her  conquering  force, 
glowing  with  temperament,  for  her  regally  proud  and  thoroughbred 
individuality. 

The  playing  of  Carreno  combines  extreme  exploitation  of  force, 
masculine  sense  of  sculpture  in  the  modeling  of  the  tone,  with  the 
utmost  lightness  and  elasticity  in  the  working  of  the  entire  play 
mechanism.  Hence  her  unbelievable  endurance  and  joy  in  playing, 
her  enormous  strength  which  knows  no  exhaustion.  Her  genuine, 
thundering  octaves,  which  she  shakes  out  of  her  sleeve,  her  staccato 
filed  to  the  sharpest,  the  sheen,  the  intensity,  and  the  evenness  of  her 
passages,  the  iron  heaviness  of  her  chord  and  mass  effects  (introduc- 
tion of  the  B  flat  minor  Concerto  of  Tschaikowsky)  incomparable, 
and  of  its  kind,  inspired  by  fieriest  temperament  most  hot-blooded 
feeling,  quite  inimitable. 

Whoever  is  acquainted  with  the  hard,  stinging,  and  pointed  fortes 
of  so  many  of  our  younger  and  young  pianists — the  concert  tone  of 
Liszt  misunderstood — breathes  afresh  when  he  hears  a  fortissimo  of 
iron  power,  yet  of  absolute  beauty  and  fullness.  Royal  dignity,  aristo- 


392  TERESA  CARRENO 

cratic  pride,  that  is  the  realm  in  which  this  queen  of  pianists  reigns 
most  freely.  The  great  heroic  Concerti  (Beethoven  E  flat,  Liszt  E, 
Rubenstein  D  minor,  Tschaikowsky  B  flat  minor),  the  Polonaises  of 
Chopin  and  Liszt,  the  great  heroic  Sonatas  from  Beethoven  to  Chopin, 
Liszt,  and  MacDowell,  the  Erlking  of  Schubert-Liszt,  Schubert- 
Tausig's  Marche  Militaire,  Chopin's  great  Concert  Etudes  are  there- 
fore the  most  blazing  highlights  of  a  Carreno  evening.  The  stern 
defiance  which  burrows  its  way  through  the  rarely  heard  Polonaises 
in  E  flat  minor  and  F  sharp  minor  Carreno  brings  out  in  stirring 
verity;  the  firm  tread  of  the  Polonaise  rhythm  transforms  the  Chopin 
salon  under  her  hands  into  a  lofty  marble  hall  of  kings,  and  of  Polish 
petty  aristocrats  she  makes  a  festal  military  procession  of  rulers,  great 
and  small. 

Outside  of  the  standard  works  of  piano  literature  from  Beethoven 
to  Schumann  and  Liszt,  these  latter  conceived  with  authentically 
romantic  feeling — before  all  in  Schumann's  Fantasia  in  C  major — 
there  was  generally  little  or  no  place  left  in  her  repertoire  for  the 
new  or  the  contemporary.  This  was  characteristic  of  the  Carreno 
evenings  of  the  Eighties  or  Nineties.  In  them  the  name  of  Carreno 
shone  over  the  whole  world. 

During  the  years  of  her  marriage  to  d'Albert  something  new  and 
unique  was  added  to  this;  the  playing  of  two  magnitudes  upon  two 
grand  pianos.  And  again  an  unforgettable  impression  takes  memory 
back  to  that  same  hall  in  Wiesbaden.  There  they  played  together  the 
virile  Variations  in  E  flat  minor  by  Sinding.  Could  it  be  that  their 
human  harmony  was  perhaps  no  longer  completely  tuned  to  that 
soft  E  flat  major?  Or  what  could  it  have  been?  In  short,  never  was 
a  Nordically  heroic  dramatist  of  the  piano  recreated  more  heroically 
and  dramatically,  never  was  he  more  explosive  with  Promethean 
defiance,  each  wishing  to  outdo,  to  vanquish  the  other.  Here  any- 
thing technical  and  mechanical  was  forced  into  the  background, 
here  the  head  was  bowed  before  that  divine  something  which,  through 
the  volcanic  eruptions  of  two  temperaments  of  equal  stature,  over- 
flowed and  poured  down  upon  lowly  humanity  gathered  in  the  con- 
cert hall. 

The  Carreno  of  today  has  become  a  different  but  not  a  lesser  per- 
son. D'Albert  appears  to  have  signed  himself  over  to  pianistic  pugi- 
lism, since,  after  having  exhausted  success  in  opera  with  Tiefland, 
he  again  exchanged  the  desk  for  the  piano,  probably  after  too  long 


TERESA  CARRENO  393 

an  intermission.  How  differently,  how  much  more  wholly  and  ex- 
istentially  the  playing  of  Carreno  has  ripened  up  to  the  time  of 
golden  autumn!  Clarified  maturity,  human  as  well  as  artistic,  sub- 
limates her  playing  in  a  wonderfully  appealing  and  personal  way. 
Today  she  delights  in  quiet  breadth,  still,  thoughtful  contemplation, 
loving  care  for  detail,  fine  technical  polish,  measure  and  harmony  in 
everything.  Expert  drawing  overrules  glowing  color  and  shows  itself, 
particularly  in  the  interweaving  polyphony  of  Bach,  the  later  Beet- 
hoven and  Schumann,  in  utmost  refinement  of  musical  pastel.  Her 
incomparable  and  unexcelled  sense  of  architecture  and  proportion 
asks  for  and  gives  only  the  extreme  of  the  plastic  and  well-defined. 
The  melodic  line  has  perhaps  noticeably  suffered  the  loss  of  former 
sensuous  warmth  and  soulfulness,  its  poetic  fragrance,  her  tempera- 
ment now  perhaps  appreciably  lacks  the  old  hot  fire,  but  substituted 
for  it  is  a  dusky  chiaroscuro  in  piano  and  pianissimo  that  ravishes  in 
equal  measure. 

The  Carreno  program  gradually  follows  the  modern  trend  to  the 
new.  MacDowell  from  now  appears  with  his  four  great  Sonatas,  his 
Witches'  Dance,  the  Barcarolle,  the  Orientales,  the  Concert  Studies. 
And  in  conjunction  piquant  gew-gaws  of  the  witty  Hungarian  satirist, 
the  charming  conversationalist  of  Lake  Geneva,  Eduard  Poldini,  and 
of  others  who  are  "made"  if  Carreno  but  mentions  their  name. 

This  heavy,  golden  harvest  of  autumn  shows  its  fruits  in  manifold 
lights.  Pieces  of  grand  style  like  Chopin's  Ballade  in  G  minor,  like 
the  second  movement  of  Schumann's  Fantasia  in  C  major  show, 
even  in  respect  to  temperament,  the  Carreno  of  old.  Chopin  remains 
the  master  in  the  playing  of  whose  music  natural  lessening  of  tem- 
perament and  fire  is  yet  compensated  for  by  inner  intensity  of  feel- 
ing. It  is  Beethoven  who  shows  the  most  decided  clarification  in  the 
playing  of  the  artiste  to  the  limit  of  the  strictest  objectivation,  border- 
ing upon  the  classical.  Lyric  melodiousness  stays  under  cover,  reti- 
cent, subdued.  Even  a  predominantly  brilliant  and  exuberant  Sonata 
like  the  one  in  E  flat  from  Op.  31  by  Beethoven  is  perceived  in  intimate 
twilight.  One  cannot  help  noting  a  hint  of  the  didactic  in  her  playing. 
The  blooming,  warm  sensuousness  of  the  piano  tone  gives  way  to 
almost  bitter  reticence,  interpretation  to  peaceful,  superior  serenity. 

Between  the  mysterious  delicacy  of  tone  coloring  and  the  heavy 
pathos  of  the  fortissimo  there  lies  a  middle  kingdom  whose  somewhat 
arid  ground  falls  off  to  both  sides  perhaps  a  little  abruptly.  The  large 


394  TERESA  CARRENO 

all-comprehensive  drive  has  given  place  to  most  clear,  impersonal 
analysis,  to  the  sublimation  of  a  life  filled  with  profound  inner  ex- 
perience. 

That  is  the  Carreno  of  today.  The  Carreno  of  once  upon  a  time, 
mistress  of  the  musical  alfresco,  was  the  darling  of  the  masses.  The 
Carreno  of  today,  mistress  of  the  landscape,  of  intimate  story  telling, 
is  the  darling  of  connoisseurs  and  gourmets  of  the  piano.  And  that 
is  no  step  backward  but  forward,  which  may  have  been  bought  with 
much  resignation  and  sacrifice  of  concert  mob  applause,  for  whom 
strength  is  all,  refinement  nothing.  And  so  Carreno  of  today  remains 
equally  to  be  honored  as  the  Carreno  of  old,  whose  volcanic  tem- 
perament forced  the  old  and  new  world  into  the  spell  of  her  enchant- 
ment. We  greet  you  the  Maestra  and  Queen  of  all  pianistes,  from  the 
heart! 

Dr.  Walter  Niemann 


CHRONOLOGY 


IN  CARACAS,  VENEZUELA 

Birthday  of  Teresita  Carreno 
Departure 

IN  NORTH  AMERICA 

New  York 

Debut  of  the  Prodigy 
Boston 

Soloist  with  orchestra  of  the 
Philharmonic  Society 
Cuba 

Concert  of  the  Liceo  de  la 
Habana 
New  York 
Departure  for  Europe 

IN  EUROPE 

At  home  in  Paris 

Debut  in  Vivier  Concert 

London  preliminaries 

Death  of  Clorinda  Carreno 

Spanish  tour 

Paris  with  London  interludes 
In  London 

Pianist  of  Riviere  Promenade 
Concerts 

Pianist  with  Monday  Popu- 
lar Concerts 

Mapleson  Operatic  Concert 
Tour 
Teresita  sings  in  opera  in 
Edinburgh 

With  the  Patti-Mario  troupe 
in  the  United  States 


1853-1862 


December  22, 1853 
July  23,  1862 


1862-1866 


Marriage  with  Emile  Sauret     June,  1873 


August,  1 862- January,  1863 
November  25, 1862 
January,  1863 

January  24, 1863 

March-June,  1863 

April  25,  1863 
1863-1866 
April  7,  1866 

1866-1874 

1866-1870 
May  14, 1866 
June  and  July,  1866 
September,  1866 
November,  1866- January,  1867 
1 867-1 870 

1 870-1 874 

1871-1874 
1872 

January-March,  1872 
March  12,  1872 
September,  1872-May,  1873 


396 


TERESA  CARRENO 


Birth  of  Emilita  Sauret 

March  23, 1874 

Death  of  Manuel  Antonio 

Carreno 

Late  August,  1874 

IN  THE  UNITED  STATES 

1874-1889 

Tour  with  lima  di  Murska 

1 874-1 875 

Separation  from  Sauret 

Spring,  1875 

In   Boston   studying  to  be  a 

singer 

1 875-1 876 

Operatic  debuts  in  New  York 

and  Boston 

Spring,  1876 

New  Rochelle 

1876-1889 

Marriage     with     Giovanni 

Tagliapietra 

1876 

Lulu  Tagliapietra 

born  1878-died  1881 

Birth    of    Teresita    Taglia- 

pietra 

December  24,  1882 

Birth  of   Giovanni   Taglia- 

pietra 

January  7,  1885 

Venezuelan  Concert  Tour 

October,  1885-September,  1886 

Venezuelan  Operatic   Ven- 

ture 

February-May,  1887 

Departure  for  Europe 

July  3,  1889 

IN  GERMANY 

October,  1889-October,  1916 

Berlin  debut 

November  18,  1889 

Carreno  and  dAlbert 

1891-1894 

Birth  of  Eugenia  d'Albert 

September  27,  1892 

Two-piano  ensemble 

1893-1894 

Birth  of  Hertha  d'Albert 

September  26,  1894 

Divorce 

October,  1895 

Berlin,  Kurfurstendamm  28 

May,  1895-October,  1 91 6 

Summer  in  Pertisau,  Ach- 

ensee 

1895 

European  Concerts 

1 895- 1 896 

Summer  teaching  in  Per- 

tisau 

1896 

European  Concerts 

Autumn,  1896 

Tour  of  the  United  States 

December  22,  1896-May  28,  1897 

TERESA  CARRENO  397 


Summer  teaching  in  Per- 

tisau 

1897 

European  Concerts 

1897-1898 

Summer  in  Schwaz,  Ty- 

rol 

1898 

Tour  of  the  United  States 

December  27,  1898-May  16,  1899 

Summer  in  Kolberg  and 

Pertisau 

1899 

European  Concerts 

1 899-1 900 

Summer  in  Pertisau  and 

Merano 

1900 

Tour  of  the  United  States, 

Havana,  and  Mexico 

October  30,  1900-May  15,  1901 

Summer  in  Friedrichroda 

1901 

Concerts  in  Europe 

1901-1902 

Marriage  with  Arturo  Ta- 

gliapietra    June  30, 1902 

June  30,  1902 

Summer  in  Tavernola,  It- 

aly 

1902 

Concerts  in  Europe 

1 902-1 903 

Summer  in  Wyk  a  /  Fohr 

1903 

Concerts  in  Europe 

1903-1904 

Summer  in  Obersalzberg 

1904 

Concerts  in  Europe 

1 904-1 905 

Summer  in  Friedrichroda 

1905 

Concerts  in  Europe 

1 905-1 906 

Summer  in  Wyk  a  /  Fohr 

1906 

Concerts  in  Europe 

1906-1907 

Tour  of  Australia,  New  Zea- 

land,   and    the    United 

States 

April,  1907-April,  1908 

Summer  in  Italy  and  Ober- 

salzberg 

1908 

Concerts  in  Europe 

1 908-1 909 

Summer  in  Bad  Gastein 

and  Obersalzberg 

1909 

Tour  of  the  United  States, 

Australia,  New  Zealand, 

and  South  Africa 

November,  iooo-April,  iqii 

398 


TERESA  CARRENO 


Fall  in  Oberstdorf 
Concerts  in  Europe 

Summer  in  Grindelwald, 
Switzerland 
Concerts  in  Europe 

Golden  Jubilee 

Summer  in  Obersalzberg 
Tour  of  the  United  States 

Summer  in  Oberstdorf 
Concerts  in  Europe 

Summer  in  Berlin 
Concerts  in  Europe 

Summer  in  Berlin 

IN  THE  UNITED  STATES 

On  tour 

Last  Concert  in  Havana 

Death 


Repatriation  of  the  ashes  of 
Teresa  Carreno  in  Cara- 
cas by  the  Government 
of  Venezuela 


1911 
1911-1912 

1912 

1912-1913 

December  21, 1912 

1913 

October,  1913-May,  1914 

1914 

1914-1915 

1915 

1915-1916 

1916 

October,  1916-June,  igiy 

October,  1916-March,  1917 
March  21,  1917 
June  12, 1917 


February  15,  1938 


SOURCES 

The  most  vital  of  all  records  are  the  intangible,  vanishing  ones  of 
personal  intercourse.  Hours  spent  with  Carreno,  with  members  of  her 
family,  and  with  friends  of  long  standing  have  been  fertile  for  insight 
as  for  information.  By  courtesy  of  the  Executors  of  the  Estate  of 
Teresa  Carreno,  Arturo  Tagliapietra,  and  Clarence  M.  Woolley,  ac- 
cess has  been  given  to  letters,  concert  records,  articles,  criticisms, 
programs,  and  compositions  in  their  custody. 

It  is  neither  feasible  nor  necessary  to  list  all  the  books  and  articles 
consulted.  Newspapers  and  musical  journals  of  many  countries,  only 
the  most  important  of  which  are  listed,  have  furnished  a  liberal  share 
of  material. 

Manuscripts 

Calcano,  Jose  Antonio.  Palabras  pronunciadas  por  f.  A.  Calcano 
en  el  Cementerio  General  del  Sur,  al  Ser  Repatriados  las  Cenizas 
de  Teresa  Carreno  el  75  de  Febrero  de  1938. 

Carreno,  Teresa.  "War  Time  Experiences  of  a  Concert  Artist  Tour- 
ing Europe." 

Cochran,  J.  W.  "Teresa  Carreno  as  I  knew  her."  Told  to  Ray  C.  B. 
Brown. 

Cohen,  Nathaniel  H.  "Excerpts  from  the  Memoirs  of  Nathaniel  H. 
Cohen." 

Francia,  Felipe.  "Bautismos,  Matrimonios  y  Entierros  en  Caracas." 
Letra  F.  Libretas  9,  10,  11.  Tomo  XIX.  Academia  de  la  Historia, 
Caracas. 

Llamozas,  Salvador.  "La  Vuelta  a  la  Patria  de  la  celebre  Pianista 
Teresa  Carreno  en  1885." 

Okell,  Adelaide  C.  Teresa  Carreno.  Memorial  address  made  at 
Wesley  College  Conservatory,  Grand  Forks,  S.D.,  May  15,  191 8. 

Ponce,  Rafael  Mirabal.  " Apuntes  Historicos  sobre  la  Familia  Ca- 


rreno." 


Books 
Aronson,  Rudolph.  Theatrical  and  Musical  Memoirs.  New  York, 
W3- 


400  TERESA  CARRENO 

Bermudez,  Juan  Augustin.  Diccionario  Historico.  Madrid,  1800. 
Breithaupt,  Rudolf  M.  Die  Natiirliche  Klaviertechni\.  Der  Meisterin 

Teresa  Carreno  gewidmet.  Leipzig,  1905. 
Brown,  Abbie  Farwell.  The  Boyhood  of  Edward  MacDowell.  New 

York,  1924. 
von  Bulow,  Hans  Guido.  Briefe  und  Schriften  Hans  von  Billows. 

Ed.  by  Marie  von  Bulow.  vol.  8.  Leipzig,  1908. 
Camacho,  Simon  {pseud.  Nazareno).  Cosas  de  los  Estados  Unidos. 

New  York,  1864. 
Carraffa,  Alberto  y  Arturo.  Enciclopedia  Herdldica  y  Genealogica 

Hispano- Americana.  Tomo  24   (with  bibliography  and  plates). 

Madrid,  1926. 
Carreno,  Manuel  Antonio.  Manual  de  Urbanidad  y  Buenas  Maneras 

para  Uso  de  la  Juventud  De  Ambos  Sexos.  New  York,  Lima,  1859. 

Paris,  1920. 
Teresa.  Possibilities  of  Tone  Color  by  Artistic  Use  of  the  Pedals. 

Cincinnati,  New  York,  London,  1919. 
Cooke,  James  Francis.  Great  Pianists  on  Piano  Playing.  Philadelphia, 

1913. 
L.  Cortijo,  Alahija.  La  Musica  Popular  y  Los  Musicos  Celebres  de  la 

America  Latina.  Barcelona,  1917. 
Cowen,  Sir  Frederic  Hymen.  My  Art  and  my  Friends.  London,  1913. 
Charnace,  Guy  de.  Les  Etoiles  du  Chant  (Adelina  Patti).  Paris,  1866. 
Dalton,  Leonard  V.  Venezuela.  New  York,  1925. 
Damrosch,  Walter  Johannes.  My  Musical  Life.  New  York,  1923. 
Ehrlich,  A.  Beruhmte  Klavierspieler  der  Vergangenheit  und  Gegen- 

wart.  Leipzig,  1898. 

Beruhmte  Sangerinnern.  Leipzig,  1896. 

Elson,  Arthur.  Woman's  Wor\  in  Music.  Boston,  1904. 

Finck,  Henry  T.  My  Adventures  in  the  Golden  Age  of  Music.  New 

York,  1926. 
Fors,  Luis  Ricardo.  Gottschal\.  Havana,  1880. 
Gerhardi,  Dr.  Karl  August.  Das  We  sen  des  Genie  s.  Jauer,  1907. 
Gilman,  Lawrence.  Edward  MacDowell.  London,  New  York,  1906. 
Gottschalk,  Louis   Moreau.  Notes  of  a  Pianist.  Ed.  by  Clara 

Gottschalk;  translated  from  the  French  by  Robert  E.  Peterson. 

Philadelphia,  1881. 
Loreno  de  Guerra  y  Alonso,  Juan.  Guia  de  la  Grandeza.  Titulos  y 

Caballeros  de  Espana.  Madrid,  1917. 


TERESA  CARRENO  401 

Guinan,  Francisco  Gonzales.  Historia  Contemporanea  de  Vene- 
zuela. Caracas,  1924. 
Hegermann-Lindencrone,  L.  de.  The  Sunny  Side  of  Diplomatic  Life. 

New  York,  London,  1914. 
Collection  of  the  Hispanic  Society  of  America.  Carreno  de  Miranda. 

New  York,  1928. 
Kienzl,  Wilhelm.  Lebenswanderung.  Stuttgart,  1926. 
Koehler,  Elsa  von  Hase.  Briefe  eines  deutschen  Meisters,  Max 

Reger.  Leipzig,  1928. 
Lahee,  Henry  C.  Grand  Opera  in  America.  Boston,  1902. 
Lehmann,  Lilli.  My  Path  through  Life.  Translated  by  Alice  Benedict 

Seligman.  London,  19 14. 
Lipsius,  Ida  Maria.  La  Mara  (pseud.). 
Musikalische  Studien\opfe,  V.  Die  Frauen  im  Tonleben  der  Gegen- 

wart.  Leipzig,  1902. 
Lozano  y  Lozano,  Fabio.  El  Maestro  del  Libertador.  Paris,  1913. 
Mapleson,  James  Henry.  Memoirs.  2  vols.  London,  1888. 
Mason,  William.  Memoirs  of  a  Musical  Life.  New  York,  1901. 
Morsch,  Anna.  Deutschland's  Tonkjinstlerinnen.  Berlin,  1893. 
Perez  Balsera,  Jose.  Los  Caballeros  de  Santiago.  7  vols.  Madrid,  1936. 
Piferrer,  Francisco.  Nobiliario  de  los  Reines  y  Senorios  de  Espana. 

Madrid,  1859. 
Plaza,  Juan  Bautista.  Teresa  Carreno.  Caracas,  1938. 
Plaza,  Ramon  de  la.  Ensayos  sobre  el  Arte  en  Venezuela.  Caracas, 

1883. 

Porte,  John  F.  Edward  MacDowell.  London,  1922. 

Raupp,  Wilhelm.  Eugen  d' Albert,  ein  Kiinstler  und  Menschenschic\- 

sal.  Leipzig,  1930. 
Riviere,  Jules.  My  Musical  Life  and  Recollections.  London,  1893. 
Rojas,  Aristides.  Estudios  Historicos.  3  vols.  Caracas,  1927. 
Rourke,  Thomas.  Man  of  Glory,  Simon  Bolivar.  New  York,  1939. 
Rubinstein,  Anton.  Erinnerungen  aus  50  Yahren.  Leipzig,  1893. 
Anton  Rubinsteins  Gedan\en\orb.  Mit  einem  Vorwort  von 

Hermann  Wolff.  Leipzig,  1897. 
Ryan,  Thomas.  Recollections  of  an  Old  Musician.  New  York,  1899. 
Silva,  Andres  A.  Hojas  de  Todas  Colores.  Caracas,  1883. 
von  Stein,  Richard.  Grieg.  Leipzig,  1921. 
Strakosch,  Maurice.  Souvenirs  d'un  Impresario.  Deuxieme  edition. 

Paris,  1887. 


402  TERESA  CARRENO 

Thomas,  Rose  Fay.  Memoirs  of  Theodore  Thomas.  New  York,  191 1. 

Theodore.  A  Musical  Autobiography.  Ed.  by  George  P.  Upton. 

Chicago,  1905. 
Toye,  Francis.  Rossini,  A  Study  in  Tragi-Comedy.  London,  1934. 
Upton,  George  P.  Musical  Memories  18 50-1 900.  Chicago,  1908. 
Vaucaire,  Michel.  Bolivar.  Paris,  1928. 
Wilstach,  Paul.  Richard  Mansfield.  New  York,  1908. 

Articles 

Amphion  {pseud.) .  Mar! a  Teresa  Carreno.  El  Buen  Senrido.  Caracas, 

December  5,  1862. 
Armstrong,  William.  The  Best  Musical  Investment.  An  interview 

with  Teresa  Carreno.  The  Musician,  March,  1917. 
Teresa  Carrefio's  Reminiscences.  Musical  Courier.  Pt.  I.  June  28, 

1917.  Pt.  II.  July  6, 1917. 
Arrieta,  D.  A.  Teresa  Carreno.  El  Cojo  llustrado.  Caracas,  July  1, 

1893. 

Bei  Teresa  Carreno,  "der  Titanin  der  Tasten."  New  Yorker  Herold. 
December  24,  1916. 

Bolling,  Ernest  L.  Our  first  Musical  Ambassador,  Louis  Moreau 
Gottschalk.  The  Etude,  February,  1932. 

Brower,  Harriette.  Carrefio's  Technic  a  Parental  Gift.  Musical 
America.  December  8,  1913. 

Memories  of  Leslie  Hodgson :  Teresa  Carreno.  Musical  Amer- 
ica. July  14,  1917. 

Burgess,  Ruth  Payne.  Teresa  Carreno  como  Professora.  El  Universal. 
Caracas,  August  14, 1935. 

Camacho,  Simon.  Nazareno  {pseud.) .  El  Album  de  Teresa  Carreno. 
Diario  de  la  Marina.  Havana,  March  17,  1863. 

Carreno  in  Cuba.  Musical  Age.  New  York,  March  28,  1901. 

Celebridades  Contemporaneas :  Teresa  Carreno.  La  Regeneracion. 
Madrid,  November  28,  1866. 

Chorley,  Henry  F.  A  Spanish  American  Pianiste.  The  Athenaeum. 
London,  January  28, 1872. 

Giffen,  Yetta  Dorothea.  Wisdom  and  Wit  from  the  Lips  of  Teresa 
Carreno.  Musical  Courier.  March  8,  1917. 

Gutierrez,  Rafael  Hernandez.  Triunfo  del  Genio.  El  Porvenir.  Ca- 
racas, June  30, 1866. 


TERESA  CARRENO  403 

Idealism  in  Music  Study:  An  interview  with  Teresa  Carrefio.  The 

Etude.  Philadelphia,  June,  1917. 
Jacob,  O.  P.  Berlin  a  Musical  Dictator — Why?  Musical  America. 

June,  1912. 
Living  Stage  Folk  who  knew  and  cheered  Lincoln.  The  New  Yor\ 

Times.  February  12,  191 1. 
Larrazabal,  Felipe.  Tributo  de  Justizia  al  Merito.  El  Independiente. 

Caracas,  May  26, 1862. 
Lunt,  Cornelia  G.  Teresa  Carrefio :  An  Appreciation.  The  Musical 

Monitor.  New  York,  July,  1917. 
Mathews,  W.  S.  B.  Personal  Glimpses  o£  Teresa  Carrefio.  Music. 

New  York,  1897. 
Niemann,  Dr.  Walter.  Teresa  Carrefio.  Reclam's  Universum.  30 

Yhrg.  Heft  10.  December,  1913. 
Pardo,  Miguel  Eduardo.  Mujer  y  Artista.  El  Cojo  Ilustrado.  Cara- 
cas, May  15,  1903. 
Plummer,  Harry  Chapin.  Venezuela.  Pays  Honor  to  Memory  of 

Carrefio.  Musical  Courier.  March  25, 1938. 
Pombo,  Rafael.  Teresa  Carrefio.  La  Cronica.  New  York,  March  12, 

1863. 

Schultze,  Adolf.  Teresa  Carrefio.  Neue  Musi\-Zeitung.  Stuttgart- 
Leipzig,  November  13, 1902. 

Silva,  Andres  A.  Celebridades  Artisticas  de  Venezuela :  Maria  Teresa 
Carrefio.  Museo  Venezolano.  December  1, 1865. 

Teresa  Carrefio's  Death  ends  Notable  Career.  Musical  America.  June 
23,  1917. 

Teresa  Carrefio.  The  Lady.  London,  June  5,  1896. 

Teresa  Carrefio,  "Lioness  of  the  Piano."  The  World.  New  York, 
March  14, 1897. 

Troubles  of  a  Feminine  Impresario.  Musical  America.  November  6, 
1909. 

Un  Bautismo  de  Gloria.  El  Continental.  New  York,  January  1,  1863. 


INDEX 


A, 


.DAMOWSKI,  Josef,  141 

d'Albert,  Eugen,  198;  Carreno  and,  213- 
241;  in  Chaumont,  217-218;  in  Cos- 
wig,  218-240,  263;  playing  of,  214, 
270-271,  394;  in  two-piano  ensemble, 
233,  267,  394;  277,  303-304;  relation 
to  his  children,  339-342;  citizenship 
of,  352;  358;  marriages  of,  see  Teresa 
Carreno,  Hermine  Fink,  Louise  Sal- 
ingre 

d'Albert,  Eugenia  (daughter  of  Carreno 
and  d'Albert),  227,  239,  240,  263, 
291,  297,  298,  299,  300,  303,  306,  307, 
312,  318,  319,  324,  337-343,  349-350, 
353,  362,  365,  366,  372,  379 

d'Albert,  Hertha  (daughter  of  Carreno 
and  d'Albert),  234,  239,  240,  277,  284, 
297,  298,  299,  300,  304,  314,  315,  318, 
337-343,  346,  349,  350,  353,  362,  365, 
366,  378,  380,  382,  384 

d'Albert,  Wolfgang  (son  of  d'Albert), 
223,  240 

Alfonso,  King  of  Spain,  355,  356 

Arditi,  Luigi,  73,  138 

Aronson,  Rudolph,  136,  253,  254,  258- 
259 

Athenaeum  (London),  91,  95,  97,  105, 
106;  long  article  in,  98-100 

Auber,  Daniel  F.  E.,  80 

Aus  der  Ohe,  Adele,  259 


B, 


>ACKHAUS,  Wilhelm,  315-316 
Beach,  Mrs.  H.  H.  A.,  267,  302 
Benedict,  Sir  Julius,  95,  97 
Berlioz,  Hector,  80 

BischofT,  Mrs.,  92,  113,  117,  199-200,  343 
Blanco,  Guzman,  155,  158,  160,  161 
Blandin,  Bartolome,  14 
Blandin,  Padre  Domingo,  15 
Bolivar,  Busto  de,  153,  157 
Bolivar,  Club,  152,  153 
Bolivar,  Hymn  to,  137,  154,  388 
Bolivar,  Simon,  13,  16,  17,  18,  150,  166, 

185,  238,  389 
Brahms,  Johannes,   221,   237,   238,   255, 

301 


Brambilla,  Linda,  164,  167 
Breithaupt,  Rudolf  Maria,  325,  368 
Breslauer,  Emil,  184,  192,  197 
Breymannsches  Institut,  252 
Buitrago,  Juan,  121,  122,  146,  308 
Biilow,  Excellenz  v.,  364 
Biilow,  Hans  v.,  119,  181,  195,  198,  210, 
211,  221,  259,  302 


G 


iALCANO,  Jose  Antonio,  388 
Camacho,  Simon  (pseud.  Nazareno),  31- 

33 

Caracas,  3,  4,  6,  12-14;  celebration  of 
first  coffee  harvest,  14-15,  153,  154, 
158,  159 

Carreno,  Alonso,  11 

Carreno,  Bartolome,  12 

Carreno,  Clorinda  (mother  of  Carreno), 
3-4,  6-7;  ancestry  of,  18-19;  31,  35,  61, 
65,  68,  78,  81;  death  of,  76-77 

Carreno,  Emilia  (sister  of  Carreno),  20, 
21,  26 

Carreno,  Fernando  de,  11 

Carreno,  Garci  Fernandez,  11 

Carreno,  Gertrudis  (cousin  of  Carreno), 
26 

Carreno,  Jose  Cajetano  the  elder,  15 

Carreno,  Jose  Cajetano  the  younger,  13, 
15-16,  388 

Carreno,  Juan  de  la  Cruz  (uncle  of  Car- 
reno), 26,  38,  59 

Carreno,  Manuel  (brother  of  Carreno), 
64,  76,  92,  111-112,  117,  147,  153, 
158,  175,  178,  205,  208,  243,  363 

Carreno,  Manuel  Antonio  (father  of  Car- 
reno), 3-5,  10,  16,  19,  500;  exercises 
of,  21;  as  musician,  22;  Manual  de 
Urbanidad,  23-24;  loss  of  fortune,  30- 
3i;  35,  36,  38,  39,  43,  44,  45,  47, 
48,  50,  51,  52,  55,  60,  61,  62,  63,  64, 
68,  70,  72,  75,  76,  77,  78,  80,  87,  92; 
the  teaching  of,  93-94;  96,  97,  no, 
in,  127,  170,  179 

Carreno,  Maria  Teresa  (aunt  of  Carreno), 
26,  59,  149,  151 

Carreno  de  Miranda,  Juan,  n-12 


406 


INDEX 


Carreno,  Rosie    (wife  of  Manuel),   147- 

148,  178,  179,  208,  363 
Carrefio,  Simon,   16-18 
Carreno,  Teresa 

— anecdotes:  Varsovienne,  20-21;  the 
hats,  22;  the  party,  22-23;  Liszt, 
70-71;  funeral  wreath,  76;  the  first 
train,  85-86;  Rubinstein,  106-107; 
MacDowell,  122-123;  Damrosch,  L., 
137;  the  trill,  197;  Grieg,  204; 
Richter,  205-206;  Brahms,  221;  d" Al- 
bert, 231;  the  bridge,  248;  the 
blizzard,  272;  the  ankle,  281-282; 
Frau  Leonard,  314;  Excellenz  v. 
Bulow,  364 

— compositions:  22,  44,  46,  50,  68,  80- 
82,  95,  101,  112,  250,  251,  267,  342. 
See  also  "Teresita  Waltz" 

— conductor:   166-167 

— description:  30,  37,  38,  39-40,  42, 
43,  50,  56,  63,  77,  83,  92,  109, 
121,  134,  136,  140,  154,  155,  176, 
191,  201-202,  247-248,  254,  259, 
267-270,  275,  282,  305,  310 

— honors:  48,  51,  58,  153,  157,  212, 
229,  276,  297-299,  388 

— impresario:  161,  162-169 

— improvisation:  21,  22,  25-26,  27,  29- 
30,  47,  53,  62,  64 

— letters:  49,  152,  156-157,  159,  173, 
179-180,  181,  199,  208,  234,  235, 
239,  265,  279,  280,  288,  309,  319, 
323,  324,  328-330,  331,  332,  333- 

335,  335-337,  338-339,  339,  345, 
353,  356,  357-358,  360,  360-362, 
366-367,  378-379 
— life:  ancestry,  11 -19;  parents,  see 
Manuel  Antonio  Carreno  and  Clo- 
rinda  Carreno;  infancy,  20;  first  steps 
in  music,  20-22;  the  child,  22;  de- 
parture from  Venezuela,  27;  meet- 
ing with  Gottschalk,  31-33;  prelim- 
inary audition,  34-35;  debut,  3-10; 
ninth-birthday  concert,  36-37;  Bos- 
ton concerts,  38-51;  matinee  for 
children,  41-42;  with  Boston  Phil- 
harmonic Orchestra,  46-47;  Gil- 
more's  Band  Concerts,  43-44;  in 
Cuba,  54-59;  playing  for  Lincoln, 
61-62;  tenth-birthday  concert,  62; 
departure  and  shipwreck,  65-66;  in- 
troduction   to    Paris;    meeting    with 


Rossini,  68;  meeting  with  Liszt,  69- 
70;  Vivier  concert,  71;  first  solo  con- 
cert in  Paris,  74;  in  England,  75; 
death  of  mother,  76;  Spanish  tour, 
77-79;  meeting  with  Rubinstein,  86- 
87;  with  Strakosch  concert  groups, 
95;  Mapleson  provincial  tour,  10 1; 
Queen  in  The  Huguenots,  102-105; 
with  Patti-Mario  troupe,  106-109; 
first  marriage,  no;  birth  of  Emilita, 
no;  second  American  tour,  113- 
116;  separation  from  Sauret,  116; 
adoption  of  Emilita,  117;  operatic 
interlude,  n  8-1 21;  meeting  with  the 
MacDowells,  1 21-123;  second  mar- 
riage, 124-176;  birth  of  Lulu,  127; 
death  of  Lulu,  131;  Carreno  Con- 
cert Company,  1 30-131;  Carreno- 
Donaldi  Company,  1 31-134;  birth 
of  Teresita,  136;  the  Damrosch  tour, 
137-140;  Clara  Louise  Kellogg  Com- 
pany, 1 41-142;  first  performance  of 
MacDowell's  "Second  Suite  Mo- 
derne,"  142;  birth  of  Giovanni,  145; 
in  Venezuela,  147-162;  the  coming 
of  Arturo,  171;  debut  of  the  Mac- 
Dowell "Concerto  in  D  minor,"  173- 
174;  end  of  second  marriage  and 
departure  for  Europe,  174-177;  prep- 
aration in  Paris  and  Berlin,  178-185; 
Berlin  debut,  189-195;  second  con- 
cert, 195-197;  meeting  with  Grieg, 
204-205;  at  Berck-sur-Mer,  208-209; 
reunion  with  Rubinstein,  212;  with 
d'Albert,  213-241;  in  Chaumont, 
216-218;  in  Cos  wig,  218-241;  third 
marriage,  227;  birth  of  Eugenia, 
227;  birth  of  Hertha,  243;  divorce, 
243;  Pertisau,  245,  250,  266,  274- 
276,  277,  346;  European  tours,  245- 
250,  253,  267-270,  276-277,  301- 
303,  312-313,  359-364;  Carreno 
"Quartette  in  B  minor,"  250-251; 
American  tours,  254-262,  272-274, 
275,  279-285,  307-309,  3io,  348- 
349,  365-367,  377-38i;  Schwaz,  Ty- 
rol, 270;  the  coming  of  Arturo,  285; 
Friedrichroda,  286-287;  engagement 
and  fourth  marriage,  286-293;  Wyk 
a.  Fohr,  301;  Australian  tour,  303- 
307;  passing  of  Edward  MacDowell, 
307-308;    in    Italy    and    Oberstdorf, 


309;  Gastein,  310;  tour  of  South 
Africa,  311;  Oberstdorf,  31 1-3 12, 
346,  351;  tour  in  England,  312; 
Grindelwald,  313-316;  Golden  Jubi- 
lee, 297-300;  reunion  with  Emilita, 
343;  Obersalzberg,  345~347;  death 
of  Regina  Watson,  347;  arrest  of 
Teresita,  351-352;  war  experiences, 
351-358;  at  the  court  of  Spain,  354- 
356;  arrest  of  Giovanni,  358-359; 
death  of  Manuel,  363;  in  Havana, 
381-383;  illness  and  death,  382-384; 
funeral,  387;  repatriation  in  Vene- 
zuela, 387-388 

— managers.  See  Aronson,  Cochran, 
Danskin,  Johnston,  Weber,  Wolff, 
Wolfsohn;  relations  with,  302 

— performance:  7-9,  23,  39,  42,  46, 
47,  55,  61-62,  63,  67-68,  68-69,  74, 
78,  98,  99-100,  101,  102,  no,  120, 
121,  134,  140,  141,  142,  144,  146, 
159,  166,  184,  191-193,  194-195, 
196-197,  211,  212,  222,  228,  233, 
234,  239,  249,  250,  254-255,  259, 
260,  267,  280,  306,  349,  360-362, 

393>  396 

— singer:  82,  83,  101,  102-105,  in, 
115,  116,  118-121,  131,  132,  133, 
142,  143,  159 

— standards:  10,  49,  87,  91,  93,  109, 
125,  126,  144-145,  176,  222,  265- 
266,  275,  288,  301,  302-303,  319, 
329,  333-334,  339,  364,  366-376 

— study  and  practice:  21,  22,  25,  34, 
43,  52,  76,  86-87,  107,  143,  179, 
185,  202,  219,  230,  231,  244,  245, 
276,   277 

— teacher:  72,  93,  122-123,  128,  231, 
245,  250,  270,  286,  311,  315,  316, 
320,  324,  325,  346,  348,  350,  367- 

377 
Chickering  Piano  Company,  7,  9,  54,  145, 

264,  272 
Cochran,  J.  W.,  259,  264,  272,  275,  279, 

280,    281,    282,    283,    317;    letter    of 

Carreno   to,   357-358,   365,   377,   380, 
^383 

Cohen,  Nathaniel,  113,  114,  115 
Cowen,  Sir  Frederic  H.,   102,   105,   no, 

302 
Crespo,  J.,  President  of  Venezuela,   149, 

155,   160 


INDEX 

D 


407 


AMROSCH,  Leopold,  137,  138-140 
Damrosch,  Walter,  124,  387 
Danskin,  George,  38,  42,  44,  48-49,  50, 

5i 
Delle  Sedie,  83,  93,  94,  328 
Desvernine,  Dr.  C,  57,  383 
Dolge,  Rudolf,  388 
Dominici,  Dr.  Santos,  299 
Dore,  Gustave,  82-83 
Donaldi,  Mme.  E.,  131,  132,  133 
Dwight,    John    Sullivan,    44,    46,    47-48, 

62-63,  83,  109,  113,  127 


L^LMAN,  Mischa,  312,  387 
Erard,  Madame,  67,  69 
Everett  Piano,  307 


lAIRBANK,  Helen,   174 

Fairbank,  N.  K.,  142,  174-175,  183,  202, 

227 
Febres,  G.  P.,  150,  151 
Fernow,  Hermann,  210,  301 
Fink,  Hermine,  240,  243 
Friedrichroda,  284,  285,  286 
Fritzsch,  Herr,  204,  251 


G 


■  ASTEIN,  Bad,  310 
Genius,  60;  analysis  of,  91,  126,  149 
Goddard,  Arabella,  30,  31,  132 
Gortatowsky,  Bruno,  314,  316,  372 
Gottschalk,  Louis   Moreau,   5,   7,   9;    de- 
scription of,  28-29;  meeting  with  Ter- 
esita, 31-33;  letters  of,  35,  52-53;  58, 
61,  69,  80,  86,  89,  222,  304,  376 
"Gottschalk  Waltz,"  9,  35,  37,  54,  80 
Gounod,  Charles,  79,  81,  82,  180 
Grandmother  Gertrudis,  26,  59 
Grieg,  Edvard,  130,  137,  138,  142,  184, 
191-192,  195,  198;  meeting  with  Car- 
reno, 204-205,  211,  213,  292,  298 
Grindelwald,  168,  314-315,  316,  319,  377 

llAINES,  Robert  P.,  38 
Halir  Quartette,  267 
Halle,  Charles,  85,  98 
Hanslick,  Eduard,  228,  238 
Harrison,  L.  F.,  4-5,  10,  35,  36,  37 


408 

Hauck,  Minnie,  95 
Haydn,  Josef,  13,  14 
Henderson,  W.  J.,  254 
Heugel,  M.,  80,  82,  100 
Hofmann,  Josef,  34,  267,  274 
Hohenus,  Julius,  22,  25 
Humboldt,  Alexander  v.,  14,  18 
Huneker,  James,  121,  226,  254 


Irving  hall,  6,  34,  185 

Isabel,  Infanta,  354,  356,  363 


INDEX 


J 


OACHIM,  Josef,  105, 182, 216,  230, 232 
John  Church  Company,  348 
Johnston,  R.  E.,  259,  264,  306 
Josephine  (de  Paul),  162,  178,  181,  208, 

217,    258,    285,   313,   324,   325,   326, 

329,  346,  365,  370 


K, 


.ELLOGG,  Clara  Louise,  141 
Klengel,  Julius,  267 
Klingler  Quartette,  250 
Knabe  Piano  Company,  253,  259,  264 
Knauth,  Gertrud,  231,  238,  240 
Koch,  Emma,  182-183,  198,  243,  287 
Koch,  Frau,  182-183,  198 
Krahl,   "die  gute,"   245,   248,   251,   258, 

277,  286,  337-339,  35i 
Kurfurstendamm    28111,    241-242, 

3ii,  331,  333,  344,  349,  366 


248, 


L 


rARRAZABAL,  Felipe,  8,  51 
Lehmann,  Lilli,  298,  325,  362 
Lincoln,  Abraham,  61-62,  379 
Lincoln,  J.  W.,  Jr.,  41,  42 
Lind,  Jenny,  43,  55 
Liszt,  Franz,  meeting  with  Teresita,  69- 

70;  92,  368,  376-377,  393-394 
Llamozas,  Salvador,  388 
London  Philharmonic  Concerts,  no 


M 


APLESON,  Colonel,  97,  101,  102- 


105 
Marmontel,  A.,  75,  76,  81,  94 
Maria     Christina      (Queen     Mother 

Spain),  355-356 


Matthews,  W.  S.  B.,  143 

Matthias,  Georges,  76,  81,  375 

Mohedano,   Padre,    15 

Monday  Popular  Concerts  (London),  98, 
99,  100,  165,  106,  no 

Moszkowski,  Alexander,  299 

Moszkowski,  Maurice,  277,  299 

Mozart,  W.  A.,  5,  13,  14,  47,  55,  119 

Murska,  lima  di,  113,  127 

Musical  taste:  in  Cuba,  55,  56,  59,  279;  in 
England,  85,  206;  in  France,  85;  in 
Germany,  134,  144-145,  175,  189,  205, 
211,  222,  230;  in  the  United  States, 
128,  129-130,  133,  174,  253,  258,  275, 
307;  in  Venezuela,  25,  53,  154,   162. 

MacDowell,  Edward,  1 21-122;  early  com- 
positions of,  128-129;  "Second  Suite 
Moderne,"  142-143;  145, 172-174,  198, 
215,  222,  229,  246-247,  255-257,  266, 
272-273,  307-308,  395 

MacDowell,  Fanny  (Mrs.  Thomas),  121, 
122,  131,  170,  176,  179,  180,  225, 
246-247,  261,  287,  308,  309,  317 

MacDowell,  Marian  (Mrs.  Edward),  172- 
173,  256,  307,  308 

MacDowell  "Second  Concerto";  origin  of 
Scherzo,  172-174;  198,  211,  215,  252, 
255,  257,  266,  272,  277,  308 

MacDowell,  Thomas,  121,  179,  180,  308, 
309 


N, 


of 


IEMANN,  Dr.  Walter,  349 
Nikisch,  Artur,  224,  249,  297 

V^yBERSTDORF,    309,   310,   31 1-3 12, 

315,  323,  346,  347,  35i 
Obersalzberg,  315,  345~346 
Okell,  Adelaide,   309 
Ollivier,  Blandine,  69,  72,  79,  94 


1 ADEREWSKI,  I.  J.,  224,  259,  303,  383 
Patti,  Adelina,  8,  82,  95,  97,  104 
Patti,  Carlotta,  106,  108-109 
Paur,  Emil,  298 

Pertisau,  245,  250,  266,  274-276,  346 
Pineda,  Senor,  156,  161 


INDEX 


409 


Plaza,  Juan  Bautista,  388 
Princess  Mathilde,  79-80 
Princess  of  Wales,  85-86,  95 
Puzzi,  Madame,  74-75 


R 


.ACHELLE,  Fernando,  163,  166 

Reed,  Caroline  Keating,  131,  156-157, 
179,  208,  209,  234,  264-265,  279-281 

Reger,  Max,  211,  302 

Revenga,  Dr.  Manuel,  164 

Richter,  Hans,  205-206 

Rive-King,  Madame,   133,    140 

Riviere  Promenade  Concerts,  96,  97,  98, 
100 

Rodriguez,  Simon.  See  Simon  Carreno 

Rojas,  Aristides,  14 

Rossini,  Giacomo,  68-69,  70,  71,  72;  let- 
ters of,  73,  74;  Mass  of,  95 

Rubinstein,  Anton,  82,  86,  87,  99-100, 
106,  107,  121,  196,  204,  212,  214,  222, 
239,  254,  259,  265,  374 

Rudersdorff,  Mme.  H.,  98,  113,  11 8-1 19 


OAINT-SAENS,  Camille,  69,  210,  278 

Salingre,  Louise,  223,  241 

Sauret,  Emile,  106,  108,  109,  no,  in, 
113,  114,  115;  departure  of,  116;  117, 
123,  125,  200,  216,  225,  267,  343 

Sauret,  Emilita  (daughter  of  Carreno), 
110,  in,  117,  199-200,  343-344 

Scherek,  Benno,  303,  304,  305,  310 

Schumann,  Clara,  55,  98,  131,  184,  192, 

376 
Schumann-Heink,  E.,  310 
Schwaz,  Tyrol,  270 
Segur,  Comte  de,  14 
Sinding,  Christian,  298,  362 
Sojo,  Padre  Pedro,  13,  14,  15 
Steinway  &  Sons,  180,  264,  279,  365 
Strakosch,  Maurice,  95,  97,  106,  113,  119, 

135 
Sullivan,  Arthur,  96 


I 


AGLIAPIETRA,  Arturo  (husband  of 
Carreno),  171-172,  175*  176,  225, 
247,  258,  275,  279,  283,  284,  285-293, 
297,  299,  302,  305,  306,  309,  310, 
312,  315,  317-320,  322,  329,  33i,  335, 


338,  343,  35i,  352,  354,  356,  350-362, 
363,  365,  366,  378-379,  387,  388 

Tagliapietra,  Giovanni  (husband  of  Car- 
reno), 119,  124,  127,  128,  130,  131, 
134,  135-136",  145,  148,  149,  150-152, 
153,  156,  157,  158,  159,  160,  161,  162, 
165-166,  175,  176,  207-208,  216,  225, 
242-243,  247,  260-262,  264 

Tagliapietra,  Giovanni  Carreno  (son  of 
Carreno),  145,  170-171,  202,  208,  234, 
239,  240,  275,  284,  286,  293,  314,  318, 

327-337,  345,  346,  352,  353,  358-359, 
362 

Tagliapietra,  Lulu  (daughter  of  Carreno), 
127,  128,  131 

Tagliapietra,  Teresita  (daughter  of  Car- 
reno), 135,  136,  144,  145,  170-171, 
202,  208,  231,  234,  235,  237,  240,  246, 
250,  251-252,  263-264,  274-275,  277, 
278,  283-284,  286,  289-291,  292,  303, 
313,  318,  320-326,  328,  330,  334,  337, 
345,  346",  347-348,  350-352,  354,  356- 
357,  363,  365,  384,  388 

Tavernola,  293 

"Teresita  Waltz,"  145,  154,  251,  265,  268 

Tietjens,  Therese,  101,  108,  119,  120 

Thomas,  Ambroise,  82 

Thomas,  Theodore,  6,  9,  34,  36,  37,  136, 

173-174 
Toro,  del,  18,  19,  31,  77,  148,  158 


U 


RSO,  Camilla,  145 


VE 


ELOZ,  Nicholas,  388 
Venezuela,  6,  10,  12,  17,  19,  60,  75,  147, 

149,  159,  160,  164,  168-169,  172,  206, 

281,  299,  380,  389 
Victoria,  Queen  of  Spain,  355,  356 
Villa,  Maestro,  326,  328,  337,  352 
Vivier,  M.,  67,  69;  concert  of,  70-71 


WA 


ATSON,  Dr.  Lewis,  133 
Watson,  Regina  (Ginka),  132-133,  134, 
144-145,  171,  172,  174,  258,  265,  287, 

309,  317,  347 
Weber  Piano  Company,   121,   127,   133, 
142,  167 


410  INDEX 

Wolff,    Hermann,    181,    183,    189,    192,  Wullner,  Ludwig,  328 

194,  209-210,  212,  215,  217-218,  219,  Wyk  a.  Fohr,  301 

220,  229-230,  232-233,  253,  256-257, 

267,  271,  291,  300 

Wolff,  Louise,  183,  213,  214,  298,  339  7 

Wolfsohn  Bureau,  348  Z-<ERRAHN,  Carl,  44,  45,  46,  47,  48-49 


DATE  DUE 

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