OFFENBACH AT BREAKFAST.

Daily Telegraph (Napier), Issue 3060, 18 April 1881, Page 3

OFFENBACH AT BREAKFAST.

bx Howard Pato,

Offenbach was one of the most generous and genial of men. Though a steady worker, as the number of his operas amply testify, he usually retired from his piano at one o'clock and twiddled the keys no more that day. In the summer he resided at the Pavilion of Henri Quatre afc St. G-erniain, and in a sumptuous little apartment, all gold and cupids and flowers, he entertained his friends to most exquisite little breakfasts. He paid great attention to his wines and offered his visitors Groutte dOr and Clos Yougeot that at Bignon's and the Cafe Anglais would have cost a hatful of gold. These breakfasts were really carefully composed dinners as far as the variety of the menu was concerned.

" My guests travel from Paris, the journey awakens their appetites, and this high clear air mates their palates petulant. We must nourish ourselves," the maestro would say. The last time I had the pleasure of breakfasting with the composer of Orpliee mix JSnfers he wag stiffering from a painful attack of gout, and though he eat and drink sparingly his natural sprightliness and gaiety of disposition constantly broke forth in the way of anecdotal illustration. He had but recently returned from the United States, and as I had first met him in New York the conversation naturally drifted over the ocean. He was greatly touched at the profuse and unbounded hospitality he met with there. Everybody knew his brilliant music and people vied with each other to show him attention, and when they do take you in hand in the United States your " inner man" is tried to the utmost of its capacity. " If I had oaten and drank all that was prepared for me, I should never have reached France alive. They stuffed their visitors in America as the good Breton dames do the breasts of ftlieir fat turkeys. My reputation was no doubt extended by my visit to New York, but, Mon Dieu! I deepened the roots of this cursed gout!" Offenbach was intensely amused at the curiousity to behold him in the United States, and he said the ladies especially criticized his appearance mercilessly whenever, he appeared in public. They noted the length of his nose, the spurseness of his hair, the thinness of his cheek, and the t>mallnes3 of his figure in no unrestrained terms.

" And that's Offenbach, eh ?" cried a lady one day in his hearing. " Why, he looks a cross between a little white hawk and a benevolent Mephistopheles. But there, he wrote Lα Belle Hulene, and I forgive him."

This lady afterwards become one of M. Offenbach's most attached friends, and feted him in princely style. She gave in his honour a supper one night (it started at midnight and broke up at seven a.m.), and the back of each menu, was decorated with a scene from one of his operas, beautifully done in water colours by a clever artist. The " Mozart of the Champs Elysees, as Bossini once called him, was delighted at this graceful and artistic attention, and

often told his comrades in Paris of the ingenious way the idea was worked out. Another point Offenbach spoke of in connection with his visit to America was the management of concerts and musical entertainments in New York on the Sunday. Shortly after his arrival in the Empire city lie saw a sacred concert announced on the Sabbath day. To his immense surprise the concert began with an overture to Lα Qrande Duchesse and would up with the " Galop Infernale" from Orphee. " Mon Dieu !" said he with a smile, " the Americans have odd notions of what is sacred. There was nob a serious number in the entire programme, and what is more, the director announced the concert xinder my patronage. Fancy how they would have shouted in Paris to have seen the name of Offenbach ' bossing,' as you Yankees say, a sacred concert."

" Another time," continued the composer, " I was taken on a Sunday to a sacred free lunch, whatever that meant, and I wus assured that I ought to hear Mr Ward Beecher preach, because he edified his congregation with Theology Boulfe. Diable ! the Americans mix up matters in a grotesque fashion."

After the breakfast was finished at St. Germain I drove back to Paris. An American friend accompanied me. It was a delightful day, in the month of .Tune, and when the voiture was brought round to the door, feeling jolly and radiant with my excellent repast, I leaped into a seat with animation. M. Offenbach hobbled out with two canes, dragging one leg slowly after the other, and screwing up his features through twinges of pain. " Dear Mons. Offenbach, what would you give to be able to jump into a carriage like that ?" I inquired gaily.

" Give, Mon Dieu! give—why two of my best operas ! Adieu, mon cher, come and see me soon again, and perhaps I shall have thrown away these sticks. Give my love to America. Adieu!"

And off I went to Paris and thought how generous and amusing he was. His talk now and then was as light and glittering as his music ; and if he could be thus gay in the midst of pain, what exuberance of spirit and irresistible sparkle he must have possessed when in a condition of perfect health !