Hector Berlioz gazed at the stage, enthralled by the leading lady. Harriet Smithson, celebrated Irish Shakespearean actress, was performing in Paris; for him it was the beginning of an obsession, which culminated in his most famous work, the Symphonie Fantastique.
Harriet was born in Ennis, Ireland in 1800, into a theatrical family; her father was a theatre manager and her mother was an actress. She moved to England in 1817, and within a year was performing at Drury Lane. Extremely gifted, nowhere were her talents more appreciated than in Paris, where she was most renowned for her portrayals of Juliet and Ophelia.
During a performance, on 11 September 1827, the young Hector Berlioz, fell in love. Harriet was already famous, but he was an unknown 23 year-old composer (he was born on December 11, 1803) who still had his name to make. This was not aided by his unconventional approach to music, an attitude not shared by the musical establishment.
Already working on an idea for a symphony provisionally entitled Episode in the Life of an Artist, his desire for Harriet became inextricably linked with its composition. Obsessed, he followed her whenever possible, lurking in alleyways waiting for her to pass. He wrote passionate letters, and staged private concerts of his music in the hope that she would hear of his success.
Harriet, who was frightened by his pursuit, refused to meet him, returning his numerous letters. She pointed him out to other members of the cast, bidding them: ‘To beware of the gentleman with eyes that bode no good.’
When the theatre company left Paris, Berlioz grew unreasonably bitter, feeling that Harriet had unfairly rejected him. His response was to blacken her name, and he slandered her with the same relentless zeal with which he had previously pursued her.
All the frustration and intensity of feeling he had for Harriet, was poured into the completion of his new symphony, but instead of the work symbolising the fullness of his love, as he had intended, it was now revised to show the supposed treachery of his beloved.
Three years later Paris was in turmoil. A revolution erupted in July 1830, and Hector worked on his symphony to the sound of bullets flying past his windows.
Harriet, who had returned in March, was devastated when the theatre closed and the manager absconded with the season’s takings. She was owed 7,500 francs for five months work, leaving her nearly destitute. As usual her elderly mother and invalid sister, both of whom she financially supported, were with her.
Such was her prestige in Paris that a number of distinguished artists came to her aid in the form of a benefit concert, from which she received 15,000 francs. Although the concert had been scheduled for 28 November, Maria Malibran, the operatic prima donna fell ill, and the date was changed to 5 December 1830.
Incredibly, this was the same day as the premiere of the Symphonie Fantastique. It was thought by some that Berlioz had deliberately chosen the date to spite his former infatuation. Paris buzzed with speculation.
Berlioz had intended to distribute leaflets to his audience, explaining the revised meaning of his work, with defamatory references to Harriet. Fortunately his friends dissuaded him, but he did include a comment concerning the ‘Witches’ Sabbath’ movement, that his beloved, ‘is now only a courtesan worthy to figure in such an orgy.’
The Symphonie Fantastique was a triumph and Berlioz was hailed as a genius.
Earlier that year, at his fourth attempt, he had been awarded the Prix de Rome, and had to take up residence in Italy for two years of study – a condition of winning.
Apart from not wanting to quit the scene of his musical triumph, he also did not want to leave his new love, Camille Moke, a talented pianist. He tried to postpone his trip several times, without success, and so they became engaged on the eve of his departure.
Weeks passed, with no word from Camille, until he received a letter informing him that she had married a wealthy piano manufacturer, Joseph Pleyel.
Distressed, he appeared to develop signs of madness by plotting revenge on Camille and her family. His memoirs show that he planned to return to France disguised as a lady’s maid, and gain admittance to the Pleyel household, shoot Camille’s mother, her husband, and then Camille, before taking a mixture of laudanum and strychnine. Fortunately for the Pleyel family, his luggage (including pistols, poison, and the maid’s costume) was lost in Genoa.
Feeling that the only option left open to him was suicide, he tried to drown himself in Nice, but it seems that the act of attempting to end his life finally brought him to his senses. He completed a further year of study in Rome, before returning to Paris.
A second performance of Symphonie Fantastique was to take place on 9 December, 1832; Harriet was in Paris and decided to attend. As she took her seat in one of the boxes, she was heard to remark: ‘Poor young man, I expect he has forgotten me. At least, I hope he has.’
Five years had passed since Berlioz had first seen her, but far from forgetting her, his desire burned as fiercely as ever. When he heard that she might attend, he revised his programme notes to exclude the ‘Witches’ Sabbath’ reference.
Although they had never met, for him she was a mixture of Ophelia, Juliet, and Desdemona, his idealised woman. When Harriet sent him a brief note of congratulations, the day after the concert, Berlioz used that as an opening to arrange a meeting.
Doubtless she was flattered by the enduring nature of his regard, after all, such constancy was rare. The courtship was quiet, in contrast to the public adulation that had gone before. They married in Paris on 3 October 1833, with Franz Liszt as a witness. For a few years they were happy together, both adoring their son, Louis, who was born in August 1834.
But such extreme worship as Berlioz had felt for Harriet could not possibly survive the reality of married life. Harriet’s stage career was finished; she had tried, and failed, to run her own theatre company, her lack of French contributing to its collapse.
Their finances were a disaster; Berlioz earned very little from his music and relied on journalism to provide an income. He no longer regarded Harriet as the unattainable passion of his life, but merely as an ex-actress who expected him to support her aging mother and invalid sister, as well as his son.
Romantically involved with Marie Recio, an opera singer, Berlioz travelled abroad as much as possible. Harriet began drinking heavily and suffered a series of stokes which left her paralysed, and unable to speak. She who had declaimed Shakespeare could no longer utter even simple sentences.
Berlioz continued to support her financially until her death aged 53 at Montmatre, where she is buried. The inscription on her vault reads simply: Henriette Constance Berlioz Smithson, née à Ennis en Irlande, morte à Montmatre le 3 mars 1854.
After her death, Liszt wrote: ‘She inspired you, you sang of her, her task was done.’
© Lorraine Mace, 2003
Sources Used
Sounds Magnificent by Herbert Chappell – Published by the British Broadcasting Corporation.
The Complete Book of Classical Music (Paperback Edition) edited by David Ewen – Published by Robert Hale, London.
Chronicle of an ‘Idée Fixe’ by Christopher Fifield – Published by Philips Classics Productions.
The Listener’s History of Music by Percy A. Scholes – Published by the Oxford University Press, London.
Ewen’s Musical Masterworks (Second Edition) by David Ewen – Published by Arco Publishing Company, New York.
www.berliozfestival.org/biography1.htm
