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It was during this season that Mr. Chorley first heard her. He writes in his "Musical Recollections" a vivid description of her appearance in "Fidelio": "She was a pale woman. Her face, a thoroughly German one, though plain, was pleasing from the intensity of expression which her large features and deep, tender eyes conveyed.
But I will not pity you for the increase of occupation produced by an increase of such comfort as your mother's and sister's presence must give. What it will be for you to have a branch to sun yourself on, after a long flight against the wind! To Mr. Chorley 50 Wimpole Street: January 3, 1845. Dear Mr.
In spite, however, of the general testimony to her great dramatic ability, so clever and capable a judge as Henry Chorley rated her musical genius as far higher than that of dramatic conception. He says: "Though creative as an executant, Malibran was not creative as a dramatic artist.
The ancient monument, erected to the memory of Colonel Tyldesley, upon the ground where he fell at the battle of Wigan Lane, only tells a little of the story of Longfellow's puritan hero, Miles Standish, who belonged to the Chorley branch of the family of Standish of Standish, near this town. The ingenious John Roby, author of the "Traditions of Lancashire," was born here.
Chorley describing her, in his recollections, said that she was better than beautiful, insomuch as a "speaking Spanish human countenance by Murillo is ten times more fascinating than many a faultless face such as Guido could paint." When her death was announced, in 1836, Ole Bull, who had known her well, exclaimed: "I cannot realize it. A woman with a soul of fire, so highly endowed, so intense.
As you say, sir, Englishmen are good whist-players. It's their national game, I believe." "Won't be a fair match, Mr Chorley," said the dealer in hog-meat; "but since you propose it, if Mr Hatcher here your name, sir, I believe?" "Hatcher is my name," replied the person addressed, the same who suggested whist.
I am so delighted that you are to lift up your voice again, and so grateful to Mr. Chorley. Ah yes, if we go to Paris we shall draw you. Mr. Chorley shan't have all the triumphs to himself. Not a word more, says Robert, or the post will be missed. God bless you! Do take care of yourself, and don't stay in that damp house. And do make allowances for love. Your ever affectionate BA.
Chorley tells us how convincingly these rare and remarkable merits impressed themselves on him, "when, after a few years' absence from our stage, Mme. Persiani reappeared in London, how, in comparison with her, her younger successors sounded like so many immature scholars of the second class."
At Ripley, which was the next village to that in which Mr Beresford, Nan's father, was rector, lived Squire Chorley, who had a large family of boys and girls. They were fond of getting up concerts, and theatricals, and readings for the poor people, and in all these things the Beresfords were always asked over to help.
And so on this point Marx leaves us just as wise as we were before. There is a gentleman who can decide by a word as to the authenticity of these letters of Beethoven, since he originally furnished them for publication in the English translation of Schindler's "Biography." We refer to Mr. Chorley, of the "London Athenaeum."
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