which 'protruded a long Hebrew nose and a huge pair of black whiskers.'
During his forty years' professional life the popular tenor had accumulated a large fortune, but in 1831 he unwisely joined Yates in buying the Colosseum in Regent's Park for 40,000l., and in 1835 built the St. James's Theatre, which cost 30,000l. Both of these speculations proved disastrous, and he was forced once more to return to the stage and concert-room. In 1839 he sang the parts of Tell and Don Giovanni in Rossini's and Mozart's operas, though both are written for baritones, but his voice at this time had suffered from the ravages of time, and he was no longer able to sing his old parts. In 1840 he went to America with his son Charles, but the tour was unsuccessful. On his return he gave a concert in which the father and son were the sole performers. For several years the veteran tenor continued to sing in public, principally in concerts and at provincial festivals, and he did not finally retire until March 1852, when his last appearance took place at the Wednesday concerts. After his retirement he lived at the Grange, Brompton, where he died on 17 Feb. 1856. He was buried in the Brompton cemetery.
Braham left six children. Three of his sons, Charles, Augustus, and Hamilton, adopted the musical profession; one of his daughters (afterwards Frances, countess Waldegrave) was for many years a notable figure in London society. A son by Nancy Storace took orders in the Anglican church. In person Braham was short, stout, and Jewish-looking. At one of the Hereford festivals his small stature gave rise to an amusing incident. Braham was singing the 'Bay of Biscay,' in the last verse of which he was in the habit of making considerable effect by falling on one knee at the words 'A sail! a sail!' On the occasion in question he did this as usual, but unfortunately the platform was constructed with a rather high barrier on the side towards the audience, so that the little tenor was completely lost to sight. The audience, in alarm, thinking he had slipped down a trap-door, rose like one man, and when Braham got up again he was received with shouts of laughter. His voice had a compass of nineteen notes, with a falsetto extending from D to A in alto; the junction between the two voices was so admirably concealed that it could not be detected when he sang an ascending and descending scale in chromatics. The volume of sound he could produce was prodigious, and his declamation was magnificent. Even in 1830, when he sang in Auber's 'Masaniello,' his voice is said to have rung out like a trumpet. In spite of all these extraordinary natural gifts, great discrepancies of opinion exist as to the merits of his singing. His great fault seems to have been that though he could sing with the utmost perfection of style and execution, yet he generally preferred to astonish the groundlings by vulgar and tricky displays and sensational effects. In this way he was accused of corrupting the taste of the age, and he certainly injured his voice by shouting and forcing it, so that in his later days he even sang out of tune. He frittered away extraordinary powers of declamation and pathos in trivialities and vulgarities, and used his magnificent talents only as a means of acquiring money. When at the zenith of his career, he entertained the Duke of Sussex at his house, and in the course of the evening sang a number of songs in the most perfectly artistic style. 'Why, Braham,' said the duke, 'why don't you always sing like that?' 'If I did,' was the reply, 'I should not have the honour of entertaining your royal highness to-night.' His own compositions were of the feeblest description, and could only have been endurable by the embellishments he introduced in singing them, but which are never found in the published copies of his operas and songs. In private life he was much liked, especially in his later days, when he enjoyed great reputation for his conversational powers. The best portraits of him are: (1) a water-colour drawing by Deighton, painted in 1830 (now in the possession of Mr. Julian Marshall); (2) a vignette by Ridley, after Allingham (published 26 July 1803); (3) a coloured full-length, as Orlando in the 'Cabinet,' drawn and etched by Deighton (22 March 1802); (4) a vignette by Anthony Cardon, after J. G. Wood (published 30 Nov. 1806); and (5) a vignette by H. Adlard, 'Mr. Braham in 1800,' in Busby's 'Concert Room Anecdotes.'
[Grove's Dict. of Musicians, i. 269 a; Hall's Retrospect of a Long Life (1883), ii. 250; London Mag. N.S. i. 118; Public Characters (1803-1804), vi. 373; Gent. Mag. May 1856, p. 540; Georgian Era, iv. 299; Genest's Hist. of the Stage, vii.; Parke's Musical Memoirs, i. 296, 325, &c.; Quarterly Mus. Review, i. 876, ii. 207, iii. 273, vii. 280, 429, viii. 151, 267, 291, 411; Harmonicon for 1832, p. 2; Annals of the Three Choirs, 77; Phillips's Musical Recollections, i. 83, ii. 55, 62, 247, 316; Musical World, 29 July and 5 Aug. 1854, 23 Feb. 1856; Brit. Mus. Music Catalogue: information from Mrs. Keeley.]
BRAHAM, ROBERT (fl. 1555), edited in 1555 'The Auncient Historic and onely trewe and syncere Cronicle of the warres
