tyrant who whipped his daughters to
make them sing. I have no idea how she learned the secrets of
composition, but save for the management of the orchestra she knew them
well. She wrote numerous _lieder_ on Spanish and German texts and all of
these show a faultless diction. But contrary to the custom of most
composers who like nothing better than to show their compositions, she
concealed hers as though they were indiscretions. It was exceedingly
difficult to persuade her to let one hear them, although the least
were highly creditable. Once she sang a Spanish popular song, a wild
haunting thing, with which Rubinstein fell madly in love. It was several
years before she would admit that she wrote it herself.

[Illustration: Mme. Pauline Viardot]

She wrote brilliant operettas in collaboration with Tourguenief, but
they were never published and were performed only in private. One
anecdote will show her versatility as a composer. She was a friend of
Chopin and Liszt and her tastes were strongly futuristic. M. Viardot, on
the contrary, was a reactionary in music. He even found Beethoven too
advanced. One day they had a guest who was also a reactionary. Madame
Viardot sang to them a wonderful work with recitative, aria and final
allegro, which they praised to the skies. She had written it expressly
for the occasion. I have read this work and even the cleverest would
have been deceived.

But it must not be thought from this that her compositions were mere
imitations. On the contrary they were extremely original. The only
explanation why those that were published have remained unknown and why
so many were unpublished is that this admirable artist had a horror of
publicity. She spent half her life in teaching pupils and the world knew
nothing about it.

During the Empire the Viardots used to give in their apartment on
Thursday evenings really fine musical festivals which my surviving
contemporaries still remember. From the salon in which the famous
portrait by Ary Scheffer was hung and which was devoted to ordinary
instrumental and vocal music, we went down a short staircase to a
gallery filled with valuable paintings, and finally to an exquisite
organ, one of Cavaille-Coll's masterpieces. In this temple dedicated to
music we listened to arias from the oratorios of Handel and Mendelssohn.
She had sung them in London, but could not get a hearing for them in the
concerts in Paris as they were averse to such vast compositions.