A FORGOTTEN FAVOURITE.

Star (Christchurch), Issue 5861, 1 May 1897, Page 7

A FORGOTTEN FAVOURITE.

The death of Cornelie Falcon at the ripe old ago of eighty-five, recalls one of the most dramatic incidents in the history of the French opera. Few of the present! generation ever even heard the n&me o£ La Falcon. Certainly (our London correß* pondent writes) till yesterday it "would have conveyed nothing to me, and I flatter myself I am fairly well up in theatrical events. Yet Cornelie Falcon woe incomparably the greatest prima donna of her day, and for five years had Paris ail her feet. She studied at the Conservatoire . and made her d4bul in Robert It Diable at the Opora in July, 1832, scoring a triumph, akin to that of Fatti many years later. The Temps declared that never had there been such a brilliant entry- upon the operatic Btage, while among the chorus of delighted critics M. Blaze de Bury wrote i "It is impossible to imagine a clearer or more incomparably beautiful soprano. Such, a voice has rarely been heard before." After five years of the greatest success La Falcon's voice appeared to break. She went to Italy, in the hope that the climate would restore the lost notes, and then re^ turned to Paris, believing that she had entirely recovered. The night of La. Falcon's rentree was never forgotten by those present. From floor to ceiling a joyous, excited audience packed the magnificent house. Every box had one or more bouquets ready for the popular favourite, and when at last, beautiful and smiling, she stepped on to the stage a roar of welcome greeted her. Again and again the cheers were repeated but at length. they died away. The orchestra played the introduction and La Felcon opened her mouth to sing. But no sound came. The orchestra repoated half a dozen bars and again La Falcon essayed to lift up her voice. But that voice had gone never to return. Bursting into tears she quitted the stage and was never seen in public again. After that Cornelie Falcon lived for many years on the jewellery and presents given her in the days of her prosperity. When these were gone she supported herself humbly enough through needlework. Many would have helped the poor lady, but pride prevented her accepting assistance. In tune-she was forgotten, completely forgotten even by Paris. Latterly the old lady lived in a tiny room at the top of a huge workmen's building in the Quartier Latin. She was very poor and friendless and never talked of the past. One day the neighbours Madame Falcon dead, and then her identity leaked out. There was an old trunk under the bed, and in it were programmes of the performances in whioh the prima donna had taken part. The last was that of the night on whioh she lost her voice. A I piece -of blaok rlbboai had^eto^inxMi**©