Cornell University Library 
 ML 390.B87 1922 
 
 The world's great men of music / 
 
 3 1924 022 470 052 
 
 CORNELL 
 
 UNIVERSITY 
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 Gift Of 
 Prof. and Mrs. Edward Morri 
 
 MUSIC 
 
The original of this book is in 
 the Cornell University Library. 
 
 There are no known copyright restrictions in 
 the United States on the use of the text. 
 
 http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022470052 
 
STORY-LIVES OF 
 MASTER MUSICIANS 
 
 BY 
 
 HARRIETTE BROWER 
 
 Author of "Piano Mastery, First and Second Series," 
 
 "Home-Help in Music Study," "Self -Help in 
 
 Piano Study," "Vocal Mastery," ete. 
 
 WITH TWENTY-TWO PORTRAITS 
 
 NEW YORK 
 
 FREDERICK A. STOKES COMPANY 
 
 PUBLISHERS 
 
Oopyright, 192S, hy 
 Fbederice a. Stoexs COUPAIIY 
 
 AU rights reserved 
 
 First Printing July 25, 1922 
 
 Second Printing February 26, 1923 
 
 Third Printing August 20, 1923 
 
 Fomth Printing November 18, 1925 
 
 Fifth Printing November 15, 1927 
 
 Sixth Printing June 3, 1929 
 
 Printed in the United States ofAmenca, 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 The preparation of this volume began with a 
 period of delightful research work in a great 
 musical library. As a honey-bee flutters from 
 flower to flower, culhng sweetness from many 
 blossoms, so the compiler of such stories as these 
 must gather facts from many sources — from 
 biography, letters, journals and musical history. 
 Then, impressed with the personality and in- 
 dividual achievement of each composer, the 
 author has endeavored to present his life story. 
 
 While the aim has been to make the story- 
 sketches interesting to young people, the author 
 hopes that they may prove valuable to musical 
 readers of all ages. Students of piano, violin 
 or other instruments need to know how the great 
 composers lived their hves. In every musical 
 career described in this book, from the old masters 
 represented by Bach and Beethoven to the 
 musical prophets of our own day, there is a. 
 wealth of inspiration and practical guidance for 
 the artist in any field. Through their struggles, 
 sorrows and triumphs, divine melody and har- 
 mony came into being, which will bless the world 
 for all time to come. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 OEAPTXB PAOB 
 
 Foreword v 
 
 I Palestrixa 1 
 
 II JoHX Sebastian Bach 9 
 
 III Georqe Frederick Handel 23 
 
 IV Christoph Willibald Gluck .... 39 
 V Josef Haydn 52 
 
 VI Wolfgang Mozart ........ 70 
 
 VII LuDwiG VAN Beethoven 98 
 
 VIII Carl Maria von Weber 114 
 
 IX Franz Shubert 128 
 
 X Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdt . . .142 
 
 XI Robert Schumann 160 
 
 XII Frederic Chopin 182 
 
 XIII Hector Berlioz 204 
 
 XIV Franz Liszt .222 
 
 XV Giuseppe Verdi 242 
 
 XVI Richard Wagner 260 
 
 XVII Cesar Franck 281 
 
Contents 
 
 OHAPTBB PAGE 
 
 XVIII Johannes Brahms 293 
 
 XIX Edward Grieo 316 
 
 XX Peter Ilyitch Tschaikowsk? .... S3S 
 
 XXI Edward MacDoweu, 34(8 
 
 XXII Clacde Achu,!,!! Debussy 361 
 
ILLUSTRATIONS 
 
 Bichard Wagner Frontispiece 
 
 VACINO 
 PAGB 
 
 Palestrina 8 
 
 John Sebastian Bach . . . 9 
 
 Gteorge Frederick Handel S8 
 
 Christoph Willibald Gluck ......... 39 
 
 Josef Haydn . .,.,.......,.. 68 
 
 Wolfgang Mozart • . . ,. . 69 
 
 Ludwig van Beethoven 112 
 
 Carl Maria von Weber ,. .113 
 
 Franz Shnbert . . . . . 140 
 
 Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy 141 
 
 Bobert Schamann 180 
 
 Frederic Chopin 181 
 
 Hector Berlioz ., 220 
 
 Franz Liszt ............. 221 
 
 Giuseppe Verdi 242 
 
 Cesar Franck . . ,., .,..,..... 292 
 
 Johannes Brahms .,.,...,.,.... 293 
 
 Edward Grieg . -, . 332 
 
Illustrations 
 
 lAOINO 
 PAGE 
 
 Peter Ilyitch Tsehaikowsky 333 
 
 Edward MacDowell 360 
 
 Claude Achille Debussy ......... 361 
 
Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
STORY-LIVES OF 
 MASTER MUSICIANS 
 
 PALESTRINA 
 
 To learn something of the life and labors of 
 Palestrina, one of the earliest as well as one of the 
 greatest musicians, we must go back in the world's 
 history nearly four hundred years. And even 
 then we may not be able to discover aU the events 
 of his life as some of the records have been lost. 
 But we have the main facts, and know that 
 Palestrina's name will be revered for aU time as 
 the man who strove to make sacred music the ex- 
 pression of lofty and spiritual meaning. 
 
 Upon a hoary spur of the Apennines stands 
 the crumbling town of Palestrina. It is very old 
 now; it was old when Rome was young. Four 
 hundred years ago Palestrina was dominated by 
 the great castle of its lords, the proud Colonnas. 
 Naturally the town was much more important in 
 those days than it is to-day. 
 
 At that time there lived in Palestrina a peasant 
 pair, Sante Pierluigi and his wife Maria, who 
 
2 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 seem to have been an honest couple, and not 
 grindingly poor, since the will of Sante's mother 
 has lately been found, in which she bequeathed a 
 house in Palestrina to her two sons. Besides this 
 she left behind a fine store of bed linen, mattresses 
 and cooking utensils. Maria Gismondi also had 
 a little property. 
 
 To this pair was born, probably in 1526, a boy 
 whom they named Giovanni Pierluigi, which 
 means John Peter Louis. This boy, from a 
 tiniest child, loved beauty of sight and sound. 
 And this is not at all surprising, for a child sur- 
 rounded from infancy by the natural loveliness 
 and glory of old Palestrina, would imconsciously 
 breathe in a sense of beauty and grandeiu*. 
 
 It was soon discovered the boy had a voice, and 
 his mother is said to have sold some land she 
 owned to provide for her son's musical training. 
 
 From the rocky heights on which their town 
 was built, the people of Palestrina could look 
 across the Campagna — the great plain between — 
 and see the walls and towers of Rome. At the 
 time of our story. Saint Peter's had withstood the 
 sack of the city, which happened a dozen years be- 
 fore, and Bramante's vast basilica had already 
 begun to rise. The artistic life of Rome was still 
 at high tide, for Raphael had passed away but 
 twenty years before, and Michael Angelo was at 
 work on his Last Judgment. 
 
Palestrina 8 
 
 Though painting and sculpture flourished, 
 music did not keep pace with advance in other 
 arts. The leading musicians were Belgian, 
 Spanish or French, and their music did not match 
 the great achievements attained in the kindred art 
 of the time — architecture, sculpture and painting. 
 There was needed a new impetus, a vital force. 
 Its rise began when the peasant youth John 
 Peter Louis descended from the heights of Pal- 
 estrina to the banks of the Tiber. 
 
 It is said that Tomasso Crinello was the boy's 
 master; whether this is true or not, he was surely 
 trained in the Netherland manner of composition. 
 
 The youth, whom we shall now call Palestrina, 
 as he is known by the name of his birthplace, re- 
 tiu:ned from Rome at the age of eighteen to his 
 native town, in 1544, as a practising musician, 
 and took a post at the Cathedral of Saint Aga- 
 pitus. Here he engaged himself for hfe, to be 
 present every day at mass and vespers, and to 
 teach singing to the canons and choristers. Thus 
 he spent the early years of his young manhood 
 directing the daily services and drumming the 
 rudiments of music into the heads of the little 
 choristers. It may have been dry and wearisome 
 labor; but afterward, when Palestrina began to 
 reform the music of the church, it must have been 
 of great advantage to him to know so absolutely 
 the liturgy, not only of Saint Peter's and Saint 
 
4 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 John Lateran, but also that in the simple cathe- 
 dral of his own small hill-town. 
 
 Yoimg Palestrina, living his simple, busy life 
 in his home town, never dreamed he was destined 
 to become a great musician. He married in 
 1548, when he was about twenty-two. If he had 
 wished to secure one of the great musical appoint- 
 ments in Rome, it was a very imwise thing for 
 him to marry, for single singers were preferred 
 in nine cases out of ten. Palestrina did not seem 
 to reahze this danger to a brilliant career, and 
 took his bride, Lucrezia, for pure love. She 
 seems to have been a person after his own heart, 
 besides having a comfortable dowry of her own. 
 They had a happy union. Which lasted for more 
 than thirty years. 
 
 Although he had agreed to remain for Kfe at 
 the cathedral church of Saint Agapitus, it seems 
 that such contracts could be broken without periL 
 Thus, after seven years of service, he once more 
 tinned his steps toward the Eternal City. 
 
 He returned to Rome as a recognized musician. 
 In 1551 he became master of the CapeUa Giulia, 
 at the modest salary of six scudi a month, some- 
 thing hke ten dollars. But the young chapel 
 master seemed satisfied. Hardly three years 
 after his arrival had elapsed, when he had written 
 and printed a book containing five masses, which 
 he dedicated to Pope Julius III. This act 
 
Palestrina 
 
 pleased the pontiff, who, in January, 1555, ap- 
 pointed Palestrina one of the singers of the 
 Sistine Chapel, with an increased salary. 
 
 It seems however, that the Sistine singers 
 resented the appointment of a new member, and 
 complained about it. Several changes in the 
 Papal chair occurred at this time, and when Paul 
 IV, as Pope, came into power, he began at once 
 with reforms. Finding that Palestrina and two 
 other singers were married men, he put all three 
 out, though granting an annuity of six scudi a 
 month for each. 
 
 The loss of this post was a great humiliation, 
 which Palestrina found it hard to endure. He 
 fell ill at this time, and the outlook was dark in- 
 deed, with a wife and three little children to pro- 
 vide for. 
 
 But the clouds soon lifted. Within a few 
 weeks after this unfortunate event, the rejected 
 singer of the Sistine Chapel was created Chapel 
 Master of Saint John Lateran, the splendid 
 basilica, where the young Orlandus Lassus had so 
 recently directed the music. As Palestrina 
 could stiQ keep his six scudi pension, increased 
 with the added salary of the new position, he was 
 able to establish his family in a pretty villa on the 
 Coelian Hill, where he could be near his work at 
 the Lateran, but far enough removed from the 
 turmoil of the city to obtain the quiet he desired. 
 
6 Story-Lives of Master Muaiciane 
 
 and where he lived in tranquillity for the next 
 five years. 
 
 Palestrina spent forty-four years of his life in 
 Rome. All the eleven popes who reigned during 
 this long period honored Palestrina as a great 
 musician. Marcellus II spent a part of his three 
 weeks' reign in showing kindness to the young 
 Chapel master, which the composer returned by 
 naming for this pontiff a famous work, "Mass of 
 Pope MarceUus." Pius IV, who was in power 
 when the mass was performed, praised it elo- 
 quently, saying John Peter Louis of Palestrina 
 was a new John, bringing down to the church 
 militant the harmonies of that "new song" which 
 John the Apostle heard in the Holy City. The 
 musician-pope, Gregory XIII, to whom Pal- 
 estrina dedicated his grandest motets, entrusted 
 him with the sacred task of revising the ancient 
 chant. Pope Sixtus V greatly praised his beau- 
 tiful mass, "Assumpta est Maria" and promoted 
 him to higher honors. 
 
 With this encouragement and patronage, Pal- 
 estrina labored five years at the Lateran, ten 
 years at Santa Maria Maggiore and twenty three 
 at Saint Peter's. At the last named it was his 
 second term, of course, but it continued from 
 1571 to his death. He was happy in his work, in 
 his home and in his friends. He also s^ved quite 
 a little money and was able to give his daughter- 
 
Palestrina 
 
 in-law, in 1577, 1300 scudi; he is known indeed, 
 to have bought land, vineyards and houses in and 
 about Rome. 
 
 All was not a life of sunshine for Palestrina, 
 for he suffered many domestic sorrows. His 
 three promising sons died one after another. 
 They were talented young men, who might have 
 followed in the footsteps of their distinguished 
 father. In 1580 his wife died also. Yet neither 
 poignant sorrow, worldly glory nor ascetic piety 
 blighted his homely affections. At the Jubilee 
 of Pope Gregory XIII, in 1575, when 1500 pil- 
 grims from the town of Palestrina descended the 
 hills on the way to Rome, it was their old towns- 
 man, Giovanni Pierluigi, who led their songs, as 
 they entered the Eternal City, their maidens clad 
 in white robes, and their young men bearing ohve 
 branches. 
 
 It is said of Palestrina that he became the 
 "savior of church music," at a time when it had 
 almost been decided to banish all music from the 
 service except the chant, because so many secular 
 subjects had been set to music and used in church. 
 Things had come to a very difficult pass, until at 
 last the fathers turned to Palestrina, desiring 
 him to compose a mass in which sacred words 
 should be heard throughout. Palestrina, deeply 
 realizing his responsibility, wrote not only one 
 but three, which, on being heard, pleased greatly 
 
8 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 by their piety, meekness, and beautiful spirit. 
 Feeling more sure of himseK, Palestrina con- 
 tinued to compose masses, until he had created 
 ninety-three in all. He also wrote many motets 
 on the Song of Solomon, his Stabat Mater, which 
 was edited two hundred and fifty years later by 
 Richard Wagner, and his lamentations, which 
 were composed at the request of Sixtus V. 
 
 Palestrina's end came February 2, 1594. He 
 died in Rome, a devout Christian, and on his 
 coffin were engraved the simple but splendid 
 words: "Prince of Music." 
 
Palestrina 
 
(fffflQ-KM ye/o/mciu *0*^ 
 
II 
 
 JOHN SEBASTIAN BACH 
 
 Away back in 1685, almost two hundred and 
 fifty years ago, one of the greatest musicians of 
 the world first saw the light, in the little town 
 of Eisenach, nestling on the edge of the Thurin- 
 gen forest. The long low-roofed cottage where 
 little Johann Sebastian Bach was born, is still 
 standing, and carefully preserved. 
 
 The name Bach belonged to a long raice of 
 musicians, who strove to elevate the growing art 
 of music. For nearly two hundred years there 
 had -been organists and composers in the family; 
 Sebastian's father, Johann Ambrosius Bach was 
 organist of the Lutheran Church in Eisenach, 
 and natvu-ally a love of music was fostered in the 
 home. It is no wonder that httle Sebastian 
 should have shown a fondness for music almost 
 from infancy. But, beyond learning the violin 
 from his father, he had not advanced very far 
 in his studies, when, in his tenth year he lost both 
 his parents and was taken care of by his brother 
 Christoph, fourteen years older, a respectable 
 musician and organist in a neighboring town. 
 To give his little brother lessons on the clavier. 
 
10 S tor y -Lives J) f Master Musicians 
 
 and send him to the Lyceum to learn Latin, sing- 
 ing and other school subjects seemed to Christoph 
 to include all that could be expected of him. 
 That his small brother possessed musical genius 
 of the highest order, was an idea he could not 
 grasp ; or if he did, he repressed the boy with in- 
 difference and harsh treatment. 
 
 Little Sebastian suffered in silence from this 
 coldness. Fortimately the force of his genius 
 was too great to be crushed. He knew all the 
 simple pieces by heart, which his brother set for 
 his lessons, and he longed for bigger things. 
 There was a book of manuscript music containing 
 pieces by Buxtehude and Frohberger, famous 
 masters of the time, in the possession of Chris- 
 toph. Sebastian greatly desired to play the 
 pieces in that book, but his brother kept it under 
 lock and key in his cupboard, or bookcase. One 
 day the child mustered courage to ask permis- 
 sion to take the book for a little while. Instead 
 of yielding to the boy's request Christoph be- 
 came angry, told him not to imagine he could 
 study such masters as Buxtehude and Froh- 
 berger, but should be content to get the les- 
 sons assigned him. 
 
 The injustice of this refusal fired Sebastian 
 with the determination to get possession of the 
 coveted book at all costs. One moonlight night, 
 long after every one had retired, he decided to 
 
John Sebastian Bach 11 
 
 put into execution a project he had dreamed of 
 for some time. 
 
 Creeping noiselessly down stairs he stood be- 
 fore the bookcase and sought the precious vol- 
 tune. There it was with the names of the vari- 
 ous musicians printed in large letters on the back 
 in his brother's handwriting. To get his small 
 hands between the bars and draw the book out- 
 ward took some time. But how to get it out. 
 After much labor he f oimd one bar weaker than 
 the others, which could be bent. 
 
 When at last the book was in his hands, he 
 clasped it to his breast and hurried quickly back 
 to his chamber. Placing the book on a table in 
 front of the window, where the moonlight feU 
 full upon it, he took pen and music paper and 
 began copying out the pieces in the book. 
 
 This was but the beginning of nights of endless 
 toU. For six months whenever there were moon- 
 light nights, Sebastian was at the window work- 
 ing at his task with passionate eagerness. 
 
 At last it was finished, and Sebastian in tiie joy 
 of possessing it for his very own, crept into bed 
 without the precaution of putting away all traces 
 of his work. Poor boy, he had to pay dearly 
 for his forgetfulness. As he lay sleeping, Christ- 
 oph, thinking he heard sounds in his brother's 
 room, came to seek the cause. His glance, as 
 he entered the room, fell on the open books. 
 
12 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 There was no pity in his heart for all this devoted 
 labor, only anger that he had been outwitted by 
 his small brother. He took both books away and 
 hid them in a place where Sebastian could never 
 find them. But he did not reflect that the boy 
 had the memory of all this beautiful music in- 
 delibly printed on his mind, which helped him 
 to bear the bitter disappointment of the loss of his 
 work. 
 
 When he was fifteen Sebastian left his 
 brother's roof and entered the Latin school con- 
 nected with the Church of St. Michael at Liine- 
 burg. It was found he had a beautiful soprano 
 voice, which placed him with the scholars who 
 were chosen to sing in the church service in return 
 for a free education. There were two church 
 schools in Liineburg, and the rivalry between 
 them was so keen, that when the scholars sang in 
 the streets during the winter months to collect 
 money for their support, the routes for each had 
 to be carefully marked out, to prevent collision. 
 
 Soon after he entered St. Michael's, Bach lost 
 his beautiful soprano voice; his knowledge of 
 violin and clavier, however, enabled him to keep 
 his place in the school. The boy worked hard at 
 his musical studies, giving his spare time to the 
 study of the best composers. He began to 
 realize that he cared more for the organ than for 
 any other instrument; indeed his love for it be- 
 
John Sebastian Bach 18 
 
 came a passion. He was too poor to take lessons, 
 for he was almost entirely selMependent — a 
 penniless scholar, living on the plainest of fare, 
 yet determined to gain a knowledge of the music 
 he longed for. 
 
 One of the great organists of the time was 
 Johann Adam Reinken. When Sebastian 
 learned that this master played the organ in St. 
 Katharine's Church in Hamburg, he determined 
 to walk the whole distance thither to hear him. 
 Now Hamburg was called in those days the 
 "Paradise of German music," and was twenty- 
 five good English roiles from the little town of 
 Liineberg, but what did that matter to the eager 
 lad? Obstacles only fired him to strive the 
 harder for what he desired to attain. 
 
 The great joy of listening to such a master 
 made him forget the long tramp and all the 
 weariness, and spurred him on to repeat the 
 journey whenever he had saved a few shillings to 
 pay for food and lodging. On one occasion he 
 lingered a little longer in Hamburg than usual, 
 until his funds were weU-nigh exhausted, and be- 
 fore him was the long walk without any food. 
 As he trudged along he came upon a small inn, 
 from the open door of which came a delightful 
 savory odor. He could not resist looking in 
 through the window. At that instant a window 
 above was thrown open and a couple of herrings' 
 
14 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 heads were tossed into the road. The herring 
 is a favorite article of food in Germany and poor 
 Sebastian was glad to pick up these bits' to satisfy 
 the cravings of hunger. What was his surprise 
 on pulling the heads to pieces to find each one 
 contained a Danish ducat. When he recovered 
 from his astonishment, he entered the inn and 
 made a good meal with part of the money; the 
 rest ensured another visit to Hamburg. 
 
 After remaining three years in Liineburg, 
 Bach secured a post as violinist in the private 
 band of Prince Johann Ernst of S axe- Weimar; 
 but this was only to fill the time till he could find 
 a place to play the instrument he so loved. An 
 opportunity soon came. The old Thuringian 
 town Arnstadt had a new church and a fine new 
 organ. The consistory of the church were look- 
 ing for a capable organist and Bach's request to 
 be allowed to try the instrument was readily 
 granted. 
 
 As soon as they heard him play they oflFered 
 him the post, with promise of increasing the sal- 
 ary by a contribution from the town funds. 
 Bach thus found himself at the age of eighteen 
 installed as organist at a salary of fifty florins, 
 with thirty thalers in addition for board and lodg- 
 ing, equal, all in all, to less than fifty dollars. In 
 those days this amount was considered a fair sum 
 for a yoimg player. On August 14, 1708, the 
 
John Sebastian Bach 15 
 
 young organist entered upon his duties, promis- 
 ing solemnly to be diligent and faithful to all re- 
 quirements. 
 
 The requirements of the post fortunately left 
 him plenty of leisure to study. Up to this time 
 he had done very little composing, but now he 
 set about teaching himself the art of composition. 
 
 The first thing he did was to take a number of 
 concertos written for the violin by Vivaldi, and 
 set them for the harpsichord. In this way he 
 learned to express himself and to attain facility in 
 putting his thoughts on paper without first play- 
 ing them on an instrument. He worked alone in 
 this way with no assistance from any one, and 
 often studied tUl far into the night to perfect 
 himself in this branch of his art. 
 
 From the very beginning, his playing on the 
 new organ excited admiration, but his artistic 
 temperament frequently threatened to be his un- 
 doing. For the yoimg enthusiast was no sooner 
 seated at the organ to conduct the church music 
 than he forgot that the choir and congregation 
 were depending on him and woidd begin to im- 
 provise at such length that the singing had to 
 stop altogether, whUe the people hstened in mute 
 admiration. Of course there were many disputes 
 between the new organist and the elders of the 
 church, but they overlooked his vagaries because 
 of his genius. 
 
16 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 Yet he must have been a trial to that well- 
 ordered body. Once he asked for a month's leave 
 of absence to visit Liibeck, where the celebrated 
 Buxtehude was playing the organ in the Marien 
 Kirche during Advent. Liibeck was fifty miles 
 from Amstadt, but the courageous boy made the 
 entire journey on foot. He enjoyed the music at 
 Liibeck so much that he quite forgot his promise 
 to return in one month until he had stayed three. 
 His pockets being quite empty, he thought for 
 the first time of returning to his post. Of course 
 there was trouble on his return, but the authori- 
 ties retained him in spite of all, for the esteem in 
 which they held his gifts. 
 
 Bach soon began to find Arnstadt too small 
 and narrow for his soaring desires. Besides,, his 
 fame was growing and his name becoming known 
 in the larger, adjacent towns. When he was 
 offered the post of organist at St. Blasius at 
 MiUhausen, near Eisenach, he accepted at once. 
 He was told he might name his own salary. If 
 Bach had been avaricious he could have asked a 
 large sum, but he modestly named the small 
 amount he had received at Amstadt with the ad- 
 dition of certain articles of food which should be 
 delivered at his door, gratis. 
 
 Bach's prospects were now so much improved 
 that he thought he might make a home for him- 
 self. He had fallen in love with a cousin, Maria 
 
John Sebastian Bach 17 
 
 * I II r I I 
 
 Bach, and they were married October 17, 1707. 
 
 The young organist only remained in Miil- 
 hausen a year, for he received a more important 
 offer. He was invited to play before Duke Wil- 
 helm Ernst of Weimar, and hastened thither, 
 hoping this might lead to an appointment at 
 Court. He was not disappointed, for the Duke 
 was so delighted with Bach's playing that he at 
 once offered him the post of Court organist. 
 
 A wider outlook now opened for Sebastian 
 Bach, who had all his young life struggled with 
 poverty, and privation. He was now able to 
 give much time to composition, and began to 
 write those masterpieces for the organ which have 
 placed his name on the highest pinnacle in the 
 temple of music. 
 
 In his comfortable Weimar home the musician 
 had the quiet and leisure that he needed to perfect 
 his art on all sides, not only in composition but in 
 organ and harpsichord playing. He felt that he 
 had conquered all difficulties of both instruments, 
 and one day boasted to a friend that he could 
 play any piece, no matter how difficult, at sight, 
 without a mistake. In order to test this state- 
 ment the friend invited him to breakfast shortly 
 after. On the harpsichord were several pieces of 
 music, one of which, though apparently simple, 
 was really very difficult. His host left the room 
 to prepare the breakfast, while Bach began to try 
 
18 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 over the music. All went well until he came to 
 the difficult piece which he began quite boldly 
 but stuck in the middle. It went no better after 
 several attempts. As his friend entered, bringing 
 the breakfast. Bach exclaimed: — "You are right. 
 One cannot play everything perfectly at sight, — 
 it is impossible!" 
 
 Duke Wilhelm Ernst, in 1714, raised him to 
 the position of Head-Concert Master, a position 
 which offered added privileges. Every autmnn 
 he used his annual vacation in travehng to the 
 principal towns to give performances on organ 
 and clavier. By such means he gained a great 
 reputation both as player and composer. 
 
 On one of these tours he arrived in Dresden in 
 time to learn of a French player who had just 
 come to town. Jean Marchand had won a great 
 reputation in France, where he was organist to 
 the King at Versailles, and regarded as the most 
 fashionable musician of the day. All this had 
 made him very conceited and overbearing. 
 Every one was discussing the Frenchman's 
 wonderful playing and it was whispered he had 
 been offered an appointment in Dresden. 
 
 The friends of Bach proposed that he should 
 engage Marchand in a contest, to defend the 
 musical honor of the German nation. Both 
 musicians were willing; the King promised to 
 attend. 
 
John Sebastian Bach 19 
 
 The day fixed for the trial arrived; a brilliant 
 company assembled. Bach made his appear- 
 ance, and all was ready, but the adversary failed 
 to come. After a considerable delay it was 
 learned that Marchand had fled the city. 
 
 In 1717, on his retm-n from Dresden, Bach 
 was appointed Capellmeister to the young Prince 
 Leopold of Anhalt-Cothen. The Prince was an 
 enthusiastic lover of music, and at Cothen Bach 
 led a happy, busy life. The Prince often 
 journeyed to diflPerent towns to gratify his taste 
 for music, and always took Bach with him. On 
 one of these trips he was unable to receive the 
 news that his wife had suddenly passed away, and 
 was buried before he could return to Cothen. 
 This was a severe blow to the whole family. 
 
 Four years afterward. Bach married again, 
 Anna Magdalena Wiilkens was in every way 
 suited for a musician's wife, and for her he com- 
 posed many of the delightful dances which we 
 now so greatly enjoy. He also wrote a niunber 
 of books of studies for his wife and his sons, 
 several of whom later became good musicians and 
 composers. 
 
 Perhaps no man ever led a more crowded life, 
 though outwardly a quiet one. 'He never had an 
 idle moment. When not playing, composing or 
 teaching, he would be found engraving music on 
 copper, since that work was costly in those days. 
 
20 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 Or he would be manufacturing some kind of 
 musical instrument. At least two are known to 
 be of his invention. 
 
 Bach began to realize that the Cothen post, 
 while it gave him plenty of leisure for his work, 
 did not give him the scope he needed for his art. 
 The Prince had lately married, and did not seem 
 to care as much for music as before. 
 
 The wider opportunity which Bach sought 
 came when he was appointed director of music in 
 the churches of St. Thomas and St. Nicholas in 
 Leipsic, and Cantor of the Thomas-Schule 
 there. With the Leipsic period Bach entered 
 the last stage of his career, for he retained this 
 post for the rest of his hfe. He labored un- 
 ceasingly, in spite of many obstacles and petty 
 restrictions, to train the hoys under his care, 
 and raise the standard of musical efficiency in 
 the Schule, as choirs of both churches were re- 
 cruited from the scholars of the Thomas School. 
 
 During the twenty-seven years of Hfe in 
 Leipsic, Bach wrote some of his greatest works, 
 such as the Oratorios of St. Matthew and St. 
 John, and the Mass in B Minor. It was the 
 Passion according to St. Matthew that Men- 
 delssohn, about a hundred years later discov- 
 ered, studied with so much zeal, and performed 
 in Berhn, with so much devotion and success. 
 
 Bach always preferred a hfe of qiiiet and re- 
 
John Sebastian Bach 21 
 
 tirement; simplicity had ever been his chief 
 characteristic. He was always very religious; 
 his greatest works voice the noblest sentiments 
 of exaltation. 
 
 Bach's modesty and retiring disposition is il- 
 lustrated by the following little incident. Carl 
 Philip Emmanuel, his third son, was cembahst in 
 the royal orchestra of Frederick the Great. His 
 Majesty was very fond of music and played the 
 flute to some extent. He had several times sent 
 messages to Bach by Phihp Emmanuel, that he 
 would like to see him. But Bach, intent on his 
 work, ignored the royal favor, until he finally 
 received an imperative command, which could not 
 be disobeyed. He then, with his son Friedmann, 
 set out for Potsdam. 
 
 The King was about to begin the evening's 
 music when he learned that Bach had arrived. 
 With a smile he turned to his musicians: 
 "Gentlemen, old Bach has come." Bach was 
 sent for at once, without having time to change 
 his traveling dress. His Majesty received him 
 with great kindness and respect, and showed him 
 through the palace, where he must try the Silber- 
 mann pianofortes, of which there were several. 
 Bach improvised on each and the King gave a 
 theme which he treated as a fantasia, to the aston- 
 ishment of all. Frederick next asked him to 
 play a six part fugue, and then Bach improvised 
 
22 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 one on a theme of his \3wn. The King clapped 
 his hands, exclaiming over and over, "Only one 
 Bach! Only one Bach!" It was a great 
 evening for the master, and one he never forgot. 
 
 Just after completing his great work. The Art 
 of Fugue, Bach became totally blind, due no 
 doubt, to the great strain he had always put upon 
 his eyes, in not only writing his own music, but in 
 copying out large works of the older masters. 
 Notwithstanding this handicap he continued at 
 work up to the very last. On the morning of the 
 day on which he passed away, July 28, 1750, he 
 suddenly regained his sight. A few hours later 
 he became unconscious and passed in sleep. 
 
 Bach was laid to rest in the churchyard of St. 
 John's at Leipsic, but no stone marks his resting 
 place. Only the town library register tells that 
 Johann Sebastian Bach, Musical Director and 
 Singing Master of the St. Thomas School, was 
 carried to his grave July 30, 1750. 
 
 But the memory of Bach is enduring, his fame 
 immortal and the love his beautiful music inspires 
 increases from year to year, wherever that music 
 is known, all over the world. 
 
Ill 
 
 GEORGE FREDERICK HANDEL 
 
 While little Sebastian Bach was laboriously 
 copying out music by pale moonlight, because of 
 his great love for it, another child of the same age 
 was finding the greatest happiness of his life 
 seated before an old spinet, standing in a lumber 
 garret. He was trying to make music from 
 those half dumb keys. No one had taught him 
 how to play; it was innate genius that guided his 
 little hands to find the right harmonies and bring 
 melody out of the old spinet. 
 
 The boy's name was George Frederick 
 Handel, and he was born in the German town of 
 HaUe, February 23, 1685. Almost from 
 infancy he showed a remarkable fondness for 
 music. His toys must be able to produce 
 musical sounds or he did not care for them. The 
 child did not inherit a love for music from his 
 father, for Dr. Handel, who was a surgeon, 
 looked on music with contempt, as something be- 
 neath the notice of a gentleman. He had de- 
 cided his son was to be a lawyer, and refused to 
 allow him to attend school for fear some one 
 
24 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 might teach him his notes. The mother was a 
 sweet gentle woman, a second wife, and much 
 younger than her husband, who seemed to have 
 ruled his household with a rod of iron. 
 
 When little George was about five, a kind 
 friend, who knew how he longed to make music, 
 had a spinet sent to him tmbeknown to his father, 
 and placed in a comer of the old garret. Here 
 the child loved to come when he could escape 
 notice. Often at night, when all were asleep, he 
 would steal away to the garret and work at the 
 spinet, mastering difficulties one by one. The 
 strings of the instrument had been wound with 
 cloth to deaden the sound, and thus made only a 
 tiny tinkle. 
 
 After this secret practising had been going on 
 for some time, it was discovered one night, when 
 little George was enjoying his favorite pastime. 
 He had been missed and the whole house went in 
 search. Finally the father, holding high the 
 lantern in his hand and followed by mother and 
 the rest of the inmates, reached the garret, and 
 there found the lost child seated at his beloved 
 spinet, quite lost to the material world. There 
 is no record of any angry outburst on the father's 
 part and it is likely little George was left in 
 peace. 
 
 One day when the boy was seven years old, the 
 father was about to start for the castle of the 
 
George Frederick Handel 25 
 
 Duke of Saxe-Weissenfels, to see his son, a step- 
 brother of George, who was a valet de chambre to 
 the Duke. Little George begged to go too, for 
 he knew there was music to be heard at the castle. 
 In spite of his father's refusal he made up his 
 mind to go if he had to run every step of the way. 
 So watching his chance, he started to run after 
 the coach in which his father rode. The child 
 had no idea it was a distance of forty miles. He 
 strove bravely to keep pace with the horses, but 
 the roads were rough and muddy. His strength 
 beginning to fail, he called out to the coachman 
 to stop. His father, hearing the boy's voice, 
 looked out of the window. Instead of scolding 
 the little scamp roimdly, he was touched by his 
 woebegone appearance, had him lifted into the 
 coach and carried on to Weissenfels. 
 
 George enjoyed himself hugely at the castle. 
 The musicians were very kind to him, and his de- 
 light could hardly be restrained when he was 
 allowed to try the beautiful organ in the chapeL 
 The organist stood behind him and arranged the 
 stops, and the child put his fingers on the keys 
 that made the big pipes speak. During his stay, 
 George had several chances to play; one was on 
 a Sunday at the close of the service. The 
 organist lifted him upon the bench and bade him 
 play. Instead of the Duke and all his people 
 leaving the chapel, they stayed to listen. When 
 
26 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 the music ceased the Duke asked: "Who is that 
 child? Does anybody know his name?" The 
 organist was sent for, and then little George was 
 brought. The Duke patted him on the head, 
 praised his playing and said he was sure to be- 
 come a good musician. The organist then re- 
 marked he had heard the father disapproved of 
 his musical studies. The Duke was greatly 
 astonished. He sent for the father and after 
 speaking highly of the boy's talent, said that 
 to place any obstacle in the child's way would 
 be unworthy of the father's honorable profes- 
 sion. 
 
 And so it was settled that George Frederick 
 should devote himself to music. Frederick 
 Zachau, organist of the cathedral at Halle, was 
 the teacher chosen to instruct the boy on the 
 organ, harpsichord and violin. He also taught 
 him composition, and showed him how different 
 countries and composers differed in their ideas of 
 musical style. Very soon the boy was composing 
 the regular weekly service for the church, besides 
 playing the organ whenever Zachau happened to 
 be absent. At that time the boy could not have 
 been more than eight years old. 
 
 After three years' hard work his teacher told 
 him he must seek another master, as he could 
 teach him nothing more. So the boy was sent 
 to Berhn, to continue his studies. Two of the 
 prominent musicians there were Ariosti and 
 
George Frederick Handel 27 
 
 Buononcini; the former received the boy kindly 
 and gave him great encouragement; the other 
 took a dislike to the little fellow, and tried to 
 injure him. Pretending to test his musicianship, 
 Buononcini composed a very difficult piece for 
 the harpsichord and asked him to play it at sight. 
 This the boy did with ease and correctness. The 
 Elector was delighted with the little musician, 
 offered him a place at Court and even promised 
 to send him to Italy to pursue his studies. Both 
 offers were refused and George returned to 
 Halle and to his old master, who was happy to 
 have him back once more. 
 
 Not long after this the boy's father passed 
 away, and as there was but little money left for 
 the mother, her son decided at once that he must 
 support himself and not deprive her of her small 
 income. He acted as deputy organist at the 
 Cathedral and Castle of Halle, and a few years 
 later, when the post was vacant, secured it at a 
 salary of less than forty dollars a year and free 
 lodging. George Frederick was now seventeen 
 and longed for a broader field. Knowing that 
 he must leave Halle to find it, he said good-by 
 to his mother, and in January 1703, set out for 
 Hamburg to seek his fortune. 
 
 The Opera House Orchestra needed a sup- 
 plementary violin. It was a very smiall post, but 
 he took it, pretending not to be able to do any- 
 thing better. However a chance soon came his 
 
28 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 way to show what he was capa;ble of. One day 
 the conductor, who always presided at the harpsi- 
 chord, was absent, and no one was there to take 
 his place. Without delay George came forward 
 and took his vacant seat. He conducted so ably, 
 that he secured the position for himself. 
 
 The young musician led a busy life in Ham- 
 burg, filled with teaching, study and composition. 
 As his fame increased he secured more pupils, 
 and he was not only able to support himself, but 
 could send some money to his mother. He be- 
 lieved in saving money whenever he could; he 
 knew a man should not only be self supporting, 
 but somewhat independent, in order to produce 
 works of art. 
 
 Handel now turned his attention to opera, 
 composing "Almira, Queen of Castile," which 
 was produced in Hamburg early in January 
 1705. This success encouraged him to write 
 others ; indeed he was the author of forty operas, 
 which are only remembered now by an occasional 
 aria. During these several years of hard work 
 he had looked forward to a journey to Italy, for 
 study. He was now a composer of some note 
 and decided it was high time to carry out his 
 cherished desire. 
 
 He remained some time in Florence and com- 
 posed the opera "Rodrigo," which was per- 
 formed with great success. While in Venice he 
 brought out another opera, "Agrippina," which 
 
George Frederick Handel 29 
 
 had even greater success. Rome delighted him 
 especially and he returned for a second time in 
 1709. Here he composed his first oratorio, the 
 "Resurrection," which was produced there. 
 Handel returned to Germany the following year. 
 The Elector of Hanover was kind to him, and 
 offered him the post of Capellmeister, with a sal- 
 ary of about fifteen hundred doUars. He had 
 long desired to visit England, and the Elector 
 gave him leave of absence. First, however, he 
 went to Halle to see his mother and his old 
 teacher. We can imagine the joy of the meet- 
 ing, and how proud and happy both were at the 
 success of the young musician. After a httle 
 time spent with his dear ones, he set out for Eng- 
 land. 
 
 Handel came to London, preceded by the 
 fame of his Italian success. Italian opera was 
 the vogue just then in the English capital, but 
 it was so badly produced that a man of Handel's 
 genius was needed to properly set it before the 
 people. He had not been long on Enghsh soil 
 when he produced his opera "Rinaldo," at the 
 Queen's Theater; it had taken him just two 
 weeks to compose the opera. It had great suc- 
 cess and ran night after night. There are many 
 beautiful airs in "Rinaldo," some of which we 
 hear to-day with the deepest pleasure. "Lascia 
 ch'jo pianga" and "Cara si's sposa" are two of 
 them. The Londoners had welcomed Handel 
 
30 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 vdth great cordiality and with his new opera he 
 was firmly established in their regard. With 
 the young musician likewise there seemed to be a 
 sincere affection for England. He returned in 
 due time to his duties in Hanover, but he felt 
 that London was the field for his future activities. 
 
 It was not very long after his return to Ger- 
 many that he sought another leave of absence to 
 visit England, promising to return within a 
 "reasonable time." London received him with 
 open arms and many great people showered 
 favors upon him. Lord Burlington invited him 
 to his residence in Piccadilly, which at that time 
 consisted of green fields. The only retunj to be 
 made for aU this social and home luxury was 
 that he should conduct the Earl's chamber con- 
 certs. Handel devoted his abundant leisure to 
 composition, at which he worked with much ar- 
 dor. His fame was making great strides, and 
 when the Peace of Utrecht was signed and a 
 Thanksgiving service was to be held in St. 
 Paul's, he was commissioned to compose a Te 
 Deum and Jubilate. To show appreciation for 
 his work and in honor of the event, Queen Anne 
 awarded Handel a life pension of a thousand 
 dollars. 
 
 The death of the Queen, not long after, 
 brought the Elector of Hanover to England, to 
 succeed her as George I. It was not likely that 
 King George would look with favor on his former 
 
George Frederick Handel 31 
 
 Capellmeister, who had so long deserted his post. 
 But an opportunity soon oame to placate his 
 Majesty. A royal entertainment, with decor- 
 ated barges on the Thames was arranged. An 
 orchestra was to furnish the music, and the Lord 
 Chamberlain commissioned Handel to compose 
 music for the fete. He wrote a series of pieces, 
 since known as "Water Music." The king was 
 greatly delighted with the music, had it repeated, 
 and learning that Handel conducted in person, 
 sent for him, forgave all and granted him another 
 pension of a thousand dollars. He was also ap-*' 
 pointed teacher to the daughters of the Prince of 
 Wales, at a salary of a thousand a year. With 
 the combined sum (three thousand dollars) which 
 he now received, he felt quite independent, in- 
 deed a man of means. 
 
 Not long after this Handel was appointed 
 Chapel master to the Duke of Chandos, and was 
 expected to live at the princely mansion he in- 
 habited. The size and magnificence of The Can- 
 nons was the talk of the country for miles around. 
 Here the composer lived and worked, played the 
 organ in the chapel, composed church music for 
 the service and wrote his first English oratorio, 
 "Esther." This was performed in the Duke's 
 chapel, and the Duke on this occasion handed the 
 composer five thousand dollars. Numerous com- 
 positions for the harpsichord belong to this 
 period, among them the air and variations known 
 
32 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 as "The Harmonious Blacksmith." The story 
 goes that Handel was walking to Cannons 
 through the village of Edgeware, and being over- 
 taken by a heavy shower, sought shelter in the 
 smithy. The blacksmith was jsinging at his work 
 and his hammer kept time with his song. The 
 composer was struck with the air and its accom- 
 paniment, and as soon as he reached home, wrote 
 out the tune with the variations. This story has 
 been disputed, and it is not known whether it is 
 true or not. 
 
 When Handel first came to London, he had 
 done much to encourage the production of opera 
 in the Italian style. Later these productions had 
 to be given up for lack of money, and the King's 
 Theater remained closed for a long time. 
 Finally a number of rich men formed a society 
 to revive opera in London. The King sub- 
 scribed liberally to the venture. Handel was at 
 once engaged as composer and impressario. He 
 started work on a new opera and when that was 
 well along, set out for Germany, going to Dres- 
 den to select singers. On his return he stopped 
 at Halle, where his mother was still living, but 
 his old teacher had passed away. 
 
 The new opera "Radamisto" was ready early 
 in 1720, and produced at the Royal Academy of 
 Music, as the theater was now called. The suc- 
 cess of the production was tremendous. But 
 Handel, by his self-will had stirred up envy and 
 
George Frederick Handel 33 
 
 jealousy, and an opposition party was formed, 
 headed by his old enemy from Hamburg, Buon- 
 oncini, who had come to London to try his for- 
 tunes. A test opera was planned, of which 
 Handel wrote the third act, Buononcini the sec- 
 ond and a third musician the first. When the 
 new work was performed, the third act was pro- 
 nounced by the judges much superior to the sec- 
 ond. But Buononcini's friends would not ac- 
 cept defeat, and the battle between all parties 
 was violent. Newspapers were full of it, and 
 many verses were written. Handel cared not a 
 whit for all this tempest, but calmly went his 
 way. 
 
 In 1723, his opera "Ottone" was to be pro- 
 duced. The great singer Cuzzoni had been en- 
 gaged, but the capricious lady did not arrive in 
 England till the rehearsals were far advanced^ 
 which of course did not please the composer. 
 When she did appear she refused to sing the aria 
 as he had composed it. He flew into a rage, took 
 her by the arm and threatened to throw her out of 
 the window imless she obeyed. The singer was 
 so frightened by his anger that she sang as he 
 directed, and made a great success of the aria. 
 
 Handel's industry in composing for the Royal 
 Academy of Music was imtiring. For the first 
 eight years from the beginning of the Society's 
 work he had composed and produced fom-teen 
 operas. During all this time, his enemies never 
 
34 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 ceased their efforts to destroy him. The great 
 expense of operatic production, the troubles and 
 quarrels with singers, at last brought the 
 Academy to the end of its resources. At this 
 juncture, the famous "Beggar's Opera," by John 
 Gay, was brought out at a rival theater. It was 
 a collection of most beautiful melodies from 
 various sources, used with words quite un- 
 worthy of them. But the fickle public hailed the 
 piece with delight, and its success was the means 
 of bringing total failure to the Royal Academy. 
 'Handel, however, in spite of the schemes of his 
 enemies, was determined to carry on the work 
 with his own fortune, He went again to Italy 
 to engage new singers, stopping at Halle to see 
 his mother who was ill. She passed away the 
 next year at the age of eighty. 
 
 Handel tried for several years to keep Italian 
 opera going in London, in spite of the lack of 
 musical taste and the opposition of his enemies; 
 but in 1737, he was forced to give up the struggle. 
 He was deeply in debt, his whole fortvme of ten 
 thousand pounds had been swept away and his 
 health broken by anxiety. He would not give up ; 
 after a brief rest, he returned to London to begin 
 the conflict anew. The effort to re-awaken the 
 English public's interest in Italian opera seemed 
 useless, and the composer at last gave up the 
 struggle. He was now fifty-five, and began to 
 
George Frederick Handel 35 
 
 think of turning his attention to more serious 
 work. Handel has been called the father of the 
 oratorio; he composed at least twenty-eight 
 works in this style, the best known being "Sam- 
 son," "Israel in Egypt," "Jephtha," "Saul," 
 "Judas Maccabaeus" and greatest of all, the 
 "Messiah." 
 
 The composer conceived the idea of writing the 
 last named work in 1741. Towards the end of 
 this year he was invited to visit Ireland to make 
 known some of his works. On the way there he 
 was detained at Chester for several days by con- 
 trary winds. He must have had the score of the 
 "Messiah" with him, for he got together some 
 choir boys to try over a few of the choral parts. 
 "Can you sing at sight?" was put to each boy be- 
 fore he was asked to sing. One broke down at 
 the start. "What de devil you mean!" cried the 
 impetuous composer, snatching the music from 
 him. "Didn't you say you could sing at sight?" 
 
 "Yes sir, but not at jirst sight." 
 
 The people of Dublin warmly welcomed 
 Handel, and the new oratorio, the "Messiah," 
 was performed at Music Hall, with choirs of both 
 cathedrals, and with some concertos on the organ 
 played by the composer. The performance took 
 place, April 13, 1742. Four hundred pounds 
 were realized, which were given to charity. The 
 success was so great that a second perfor- 
 
36 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 mance was announced. Ladies were requested 
 to come without crinoline, thereby providing 
 a hundred more seats than at the first 
 event. 
 
 The Irish people were so cordial, that the com- 
 poser remained almost a year among them. For 
 it was not till March 23, 1743, that the "Messiah" 
 was performed in London. The King was one 
 of the great audience who heard it. All were so 
 deeply impressed by the Hallelujah chorus, that 
 with the opening words, "For the Lord God om- 
 nipotent reigneth," the whole audience, including 
 the King, sprang to their feet, and remained 
 standing through the entire chorus. From that 
 time to this it has always been the custom to 
 stand during this chorus, whenever it is per- 
 formed. 
 
 Once started on this line of thought, one 
 oratorio after another flowed from his prolific 
 pen, though none of them proved to be as ex- 
 alted in conception as the "Messiah." The last 
 work of this style was " Jephtha," which contains 
 the beautiful song, "Waft her, angels." While 
 engaged in composing this oratorio, Handel be- 
 came blind, but this affliction did not seem to 
 lessen his power for work. He was now sixty- 
 eight, and had conquered and lived down most 
 of the hostiHty that had been so bitter against 
 him. His fortunes also constantly improved, 
 
George 'Frederick Handel 37 
 
 so that when he passed away he left twenty- 
 thousand pounds. 
 
 The great composer was a hig man, both 
 physically and mentally. A friend describes 
 his countenance as full of fire; "when he smiled 
 it was hke the sun bursting out of a black cloud. 
 It was a sudden flash of intelligence, wit and 
 good humor, which illumined his countenance, 
 which I have hardly ever seen in any other." He 
 could relish a joke, and had a keen sense of 
 humor. Few things outside his work interested 
 him; but he was fond of the theater, and hked to 
 go to picture sales. His fiery temper often led 
 him to explode at trifles. No talking among the 
 listeners could be borne by him while he was con- 
 ducting. He did not hesitate to visit violent 
 abuse on the heads of those who ventured to 
 speak while he was directing and not even the 
 presence of royalty could restrain his anger. 
 
 Handel was always generous in assisting those 
 who needed aid, and he helped found the Society 
 for Aiding Distressed Musicians. His last ap- 
 pearance in public, was at a performance of the 
 "Messiah," at Covent Garden, on April 6, 1759. 
 His death occurred on the 14th of the same 
 month, at the house in Brook Street where he 
 had lived for many years. Thus, while born in 
 the same year as Sebastian Bach, he outlived him 
 by about a decade. He was buried in Westmin- 
 
38 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 ster Abbey, and later a fine monument was 
 erected to his memory. The most of his manu- 
 scripts came into the possession of King George 
 III, and are preserved in the musical library of 
 Buckingham Palace. 
 
Ue^p ^Sinc/) yian?e^ 
 
IV 
 
 CHRISTOPH WILLIBALD GLUCK 
 
 Christoph WnjiiiBAUD Gluck has been called 
 the "regenerator of the opera" for he appeared 
 just at the right moment to rescue opera from the 
 deplorable state into which it had fallen. At 
 that time the composers often yielded to the 
 caprices of the singers and wrote to suit them, 
 while the singers themselves, through vanity and 
 ignorance, made such requirements that opera it- 
 self often became ridiculous. Gluck desired "to 
 restrict the art of music to its true object, that of 
 aiding the effect of poetry by giving greater 
 expression to words and scenes, without inter- 
 rupting the action or the plot." He wrote only 
 operas, and some of his best works keep the stage 
 to-day. They are simple in design yet powerful 
 in appeal: very original and stamped with refine- 
 ment and true feeling. 
 
 The boy Christoph, like many another lad who 
 became a great musician, had a sorrowful child- 
 hood, full of poverty and neglect. His home 
 was in the httle town of Weissenwangen, on the 
 borders of Bohemia, where he was bom July 2, 
 1714, As a little lad he early manifested a love 
 
40 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 for music, but his parents were in very 
 straitened circumstances and could not afford 
 to pay for musical instruction. He was sent to 
 one of the public schools. Fortimately the art 
 of reading music from notes, formation of scales 
 and f imdamentals, was taught along with general 
 school subjects. 
 
 While his father lived the boy was sure of 
 sympathy and affection, though circimistances 
 were of the poorest. But the good man passed 
 away when the boy was quite young, and then 
 matters were much worse. He v/as gradually 
 neglected imtil he was at last left to shift for him- 
 self. 
 
 He possessed not only talent but perseverance 
 and the will to succeed. The violoncello at- 
 tracted him, and he began to teach himself to play 
 it, with no other help than an old instruction book. 
 Determination conquered many difficulties how- 
 ever, and before long he had made sufficient prog- 
 ress to enable him to join a troop of traveling 
 minstrels. From Prague they made their way 
 to Vienna. 
 
 Arrived in Vienna, that rich, gay, laughter- 
 loving city, where the people loved music and 
 often did much for it, the youth's musical talent 
 together with his forlorn appearance and condi- 
 tion won sympathy from a few generous souls, 
 who not only provided a home and took care of 
 his material needs, but gave him also the means 
 
Christoph Willibald Gluch 41 
 
 to continue his musical studies. Christoph was 
 overcome with gratitude and made the best pos- 
 sible use of his opportunities. For nearly two 
 years he gave himself up to his musical studies. 
 
 Italy was the goal of his ambition, and at last 
 the opportimity to visit that land of song was 
 within his grasp. At the age of twenty-four, in 
 the year 1738, Gluck bade adieu to his many kind 
 friends in Vienna, and set out to complete his 
 studies in Italy. Milan was his objective point. 
 Soon after arriving there he had the good fortune 
 to meet Padre Martini, the celebrated master of 
 musical theory. Young Gluck at once placed 
 himself under the great man's guidance and 
 labored diligently with him for about four years. 
 How much he owed to the careful training 
 Martini was able to give, was seen in even his first 
 attempts at operatic composition. 
 
 At the conclusion of this long period of devoted 
 study, Gluck began to write an opera, entitled 
 "Artaxerxes." When completed it was ac- 
 cepted at the Milan Theater, brought out in 1741 
 and met with much success. This success induced 
 one of the managers in Venice to oflFer him an 
 engagement for that city if he would compose a 
 new opera. Gluck then produced "Clytem- 
 nestra." This second work had a remarkable 
 success, and the managers arranged for the com- 
 position of another opera, which was "Demetrio," 
 which, like the others was most favorably received. 
 
42 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 Gluck now had offers from Turin, so that the 
 next two years were spent between that city and 
 Milan, for which cities he wrote five or six operas. 
 By this time the name of Gluck had become 
 famous all over Italy; indeed his fame had spread 
 to other countries, with the result that tempting 
 offers for new operas flowed in to him from all 
 directions. Especially was a London manager, 
 a certain Lord Middlesex, anxious to entice the 
 young composer from Italy to come over to 
 London, and produce some of his works at the 
 King's Theater in the Haymarket. 
 
 The noble manager made a good offer too, and 
 Gluck felt he ought to accept. He reached 
 London in 1745, but owing to the rebellion which 
 had broken out in Scotland all the theaters were 
 closed, and the city in more or less confusion. 
 However a chance to hear the famous German 
 composer, who had traveled such a distance, was 
 not to be lost, and Lord Middlesex besought the 
 Powers to re-open the theater. After much 
 pleading his request was finally granted. The 
 opening opera, written on purpose to introduce 
 Gluck to English audiences, was entitled "La 
 Caduta del Giganti,"— "Fall of the Giants"— 
 and did not seem to please the public. But the 
 young composer was imdaunted. His next 
 opera, "Artamene," pleased them no better. 
 The mind of the people was taken up at that 
 period with politics and political events, and they 
 
Christoph Willibald Gluck 48 
 
 cared less than usual for music and the arts. 
 Then, too, Handel, at the height of his fame, was 
 living in London, honored and courted by the 
 aristoctacy and the world of fashion. 
 
 Though disappointed at his lack of success, 
 Gluck remained in England several years, con- 
 stantly composing operas, none of which seemed 
 to win success. At last he took his way quietly 
 back td Vienna. In 1754, he was invited to 
 Rome, where he produced several operas, among 
 them "Antigone" ; they were all successful, show- 
 ing the Italians appreciated his work. He now 
 proceeded to Florence, and while there became 
 acquainted with an Italian poet, Ranieri di Cal- 
 zabigi. They were mutually attracted to each 
 other, and on parting had sworn to use their in- 
 fluence and talents to reform Italian opera. 
 
 Gluck returned to Vienna, and continued to 
 compose operas. In 1764, "Orfeo" was pro- 
 duced, — an example of the new reform in opera! 
 "Orfeo" was received most favorably and sung 
 twenty-eight times, a long run for thctee days. 
 The singing and acting of Guadagni made the 
 opera quite the rage, and the work began to be 
 known in England. Even in Paris and Parma 
 it became a great favorite. The composer was 
 now fifty, and his greatest works had yet — ^with 
 the exception or "Orfeo" — ^to be written. He 
 began to develop that purity of style which we 
 find in "Alceste," "Iphigenie en Tauride" and 
 
44 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 others. "Alceste" was the second opera on the 
 reformed plan which simplified the music to give 
 more prominence to the poetry. It was pro- 
 duced in Vienna in 1769, with the text written by 
 Calzabigi. The opera was ahead of "Orfeo" in 
 simplicity and nobility, but it did not seem to 
 please the critics. The composer himself wrote: 
 "Pedants and critics, an infinite multitude, form 
 the greatest obstacle to the progress of art. 
 They think themselves entitled to pass a verdict 
 on 'Alceste' from some informal rehearsals, 
 badly conducted and executed. Some fastidious 
 ear found a vocal passage too harsh, or another 
 too impassioned, forgetting that forcible expres- 
 sion and striking contrasts are absolutely neces- 
 sary. It was likewise decided in full conclave, 
 that this style of music was barbarous and ex- 
 travagant." 
 
 In spite of the judgment of the critics, 
 "Alceste" increased the fame of Gluck to a 
 great degree. Paris wanted to see the man who 
 had revolutionized Italian opera. The French 
 Royale Academic had made him an offer to visit 
 the capital, for which he Was to write a new opera 
 for a debut. A French poet, Du Rollet, living 
 in Vienna, offered to write a hbretto for the new 
 opera, and assured him there was every chance 
 for success in a visit to France. The hbretto was 
 thereupon written, or rather arranged from 
 Racine's "Iphigenie en Aulide," and with this, 
 
Christoph Willibald Gluch 45 
 
 Chevalier Gluck, lately made Knight of the 
 papal order of the Golden Spur, set out for 
 Paris. 
 
 And now hegan a long season of hard work. 
 The opera "Iphigenie" took about a year to com- 
 pose, besides a careful study of the French lan- 
 guage. He had even more trouble^ with the 
 slovenly, ignorant orchestra, than he had with 
 the French language. The orchestra declared 
 itself against foreign music; but this opposition 
 was softened down by his former pupil and 
 patroness, the charming Marie Antoinette, 
 Queen of France. 
 
 After many trials and delays, "Iphigenie" was 
 produced August 19, 1774. The opera proved 
 an enormous success. The beautiful Queen her- 
 self gave the signal for applause in which the 
 whole house joined. The charming Sophie 
 Amould sang the part of Iphigenie and seemed 
 to quite satisfy the composer. Larrivee was the 
 Agamemnon, and other parts were well sung. 
 The French were thoroughly delighted. They 
 feted and praised Gluck, declaring he had dis- 
 covered the music -of the ancient Greeks, that he 
 was the only man in Europe who could express 
 real feelings in music. Marie Antoinette wrote 
 to her sister : "We had, on the nineteenth, the first 
 performance of Gluck's 'Iphigenie,' and it was 
 a glorious triumph. I was quite enchanted, and 
 nothing else is talked of. All the world wishes 
 
46 Story-Lives 6f Master Musicians 
 
 to see the piece, and Gluck seems well satisfied." 
 The next year, 1775, Gluck brought out an 
 adaptation suitable for the French stage, of his 
 "Alceste," which again aroused the greatest 
 enthusiasm. The theater was crammed at every 
 performance. Marie Antoinette's favorite com- 
 poser was again praised to the skies, and was 
 declared to be the greatest composer living. 
 
 But Gluck had one powerful opponent at the 
 French 'Court, who was none other than the 
 famous Madame du Barry, the favorite of 
 Louis XV- Since the Queen had her pet 
 musical composer, Mme. du Barry wished to 
 have hers. An Italian by birth, she could 
 gather about her a powerful Italian faction, 
 who were bent upon opposition to the Austrian 
 Gluck. She had listened to his praises long 
 enough, and the tremendous success of 
 "Alceste" had been the last straw and brought 
 things to a climax. Du Barry would have 
 some one to represent Italian music, and 
 applied to the Itahan ambassador to desire 
 Piccini to come to Paris. 
 
 On the arrival of Piccini, Madame du Barry 
 began activities, aided by Louis XV himself. 
 She gathered a powerful Italian party about her, 
 and their first act was to induce the Grand 
 Opera management to make Piccini an o£Fer for 
 a new opera, although they had already made 
 the same offer to Gluck. This breach of good 
 
Christoph Willibald Gluch 47 
 
 faith led to a furious war, in which all Paris 
 joined; it was fierce and bitter while it lasted. 
 Even politics were forgotten for the time being. 
 Part of the press took up one side and part the 
 other. Many pamphlets, poems and satires 
 appeared, in which both composers were un- 
 mercifully attacked. Ghick was at the time in 
 Germany, and Piccini had come to Paris 
 principally to secure the tempting fee offered 
 him. The leaders of the feud kept things well 
 stirred up, so that a stranger could not enter a 
 cafe, hotel or theater without first answering the 
 question whether he stood for Gluck or Piccini. 
 Many foolish lies were told of Gluck in his ab- 
 sence. It was declared by the Piccinists that he 
 went away on purpose, to escape the war ; that he 
 could no longer write melodies because he was 
 a dried up old man and had nothing new to give 
 France. These lies and false stories were put to 
 flight one evening when the Abbe Arnaud, one 
 of Gluck's most ardent adherents, declared in an 
 aristocratic company, that the Chevalier was re- 
 turning to France with an "Orlando" and an 
 "Armide" in his portfolio. 
 
 "Piccini is also working on an 'Orlando,' " 
 spoke up a follower of that redoubtable Italian. 
 
 "That wiU be all the better," returned the 
 abbe, "for we shall then have an 'Orlando' and 
 also an 'Orlandino.' " 
 
 When Gluck arrived in Paris, he brought with 
 
48 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 him the finished opera of "Annide," which was 
 produced at the Paris Grand Opera on Septem- 
 ber 23, 1777. At first it was merely a succes 
 d'estime, but soon became immensely popular. 
 On the first night many of the critics were 
 against the opera, which was called too noisy. 
 The composer, however, felt he had done some 
 of his best work in "Armide"; that the music 
 was written in such style that it would not grow 
 old, at least not for a long time. He had taken 
 the greatest pains in composing it, and declared 
 that if it were not properly rehearsed at the 
 Opera he would not let them have it at all, but 
 would retain the work himself for his own 
 pleasure. He wrote to a friend: "I have put 
 forth what httle strength is left in me, into 
 'Armide'; I confess I should like to finish my 
 career with it." 
 
 It is said the Gluck composed "Armide" in 
 order to praise the beauty of Marie Antoinette, 
 and she for her part showed the deepest interest 
 in the success of the piece, and really "became 
 quite a slave to it." Gluck often told her he "re- 
 arranged his music according to the impression it 
 made upon the Queen." 
 
 "Great as was the success of 'Armide,' " wrote 
 the Princess de Lamballe, "no one prized this 
 beautiful work more highly than the composer of 
 it. He was passionately enamored of it ; he told 
 the Queen the air of France had rejuvenated his 
 
Christoph Willibald Gluck 49 
 
 creative powers, and the sight of her majesty 
 had given such a wonderful impetus to the flow 
 of ideas, that his composition had become like 
 herself, angehc, subhme." 
 
 The growing success of "Armide" only added 
 fuel to the flame of controversy which had been 
 stirred up. To cap the climax, Piccini had 
 finished his opera, which was duly brought out 
 and met with a brilliant reception. Indeed its 
 success was greater than that won by "Armide," 
 much to the delight of the Piccinists. Of course 
 the natural outcome was that the other party 
 should do something to surpass the work of their 
 rivals. Marie Antoinette was besought to pre- 
 vail on Gluck to write another opera. 
 
 A new director was now in charge of the 
 Opera House. He conceived the bright idea of 
 setting the two composers at work on the same 
 subject, which was to be "Iphigenie en Tauride." 
 This plan made great commotion in the ranks of 
 the rival factions, as each wished to have their 
 composer's work performed first. The director 
 promised that Piccini's opera should be first 
 placed in rehearsal. Gluck soon finished his 
 and handed it in, but the Italian, trusting to the 
 director's word of honor, was not troubled when 
 he heard the news, though he determined to com- 
 plete his as soon as possible. A few days later, 
 when he went to the Opera House with his com- 
 pleted score, he was horrified to find the work of 
 
50 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 his rival already in rehearsal. There was a 
 lively scene, but the manager said he had 
 received orders to produce the work of Gluck at 
 once, and he must obey. On the 18th of May, 
 1779, the Gluck opera was first performed. It 
 produced the greatest excitement and had a 
 marvelous success. Even Piccini succumbed 
 to the spell, for the music made such an im- 
 pression on him that he did not wish his own 
 work to be brought out. 
 
 The director, however, insisted, and soon after 
 the second Iphigenie appeared. The first night 
 the opera did not greatly please; the next night 
 proved a comic tragedy, as the prima donna was 
 intoxicated. After a couple of days' imprison- 
 ment she returned and sang well. But the war 
 between the two factions continued till the death 
 of Gluck, and the retirement of Piccini. 
 
 The following year, in September, Gluck 
 finished a new opera, "Echo et Narcisse," and 
 with this work decided to close his career, f eehng 
 he was too old to write longer for the lyric stage. 
 He was then nearly seventy years old, and 
 retired to Vienna, to rest and enjoy the fruits of 
 all his years of incessant toil. He was now rich, 
 as he had earned nearly thirty thousand pounds. 
 Kings and princes came to do him honor, and to 
 tell him what pleasure his music had always 
 given them. 
 
 Gluok passed away on November 15, 1787, 
 
Christoph Willihald Gluck 51 
 
 honored and beloved by all. The simple beauty 
 and purity of his music are as moving and ex- 
 pressive to-day as when it was written, and the 
 "Michael of Music" speaks to us still in his 
 operas, whenever they are adequately performed. 
 
V 
 
 JOSEF HAYDN 
 
 In Josef Haydn we have one of the classic 
 composers, a sweet, gentle spirit, who suiffered 
 many privations in early hfe, and through his 
 own industrious efforts rose to positions of 
 respect and honor, the result of unremitting toil 
 and devotion to a noble ideal. Like many of the 
 other great musicians, through hardship and 
 sorrow he won his place among the elect. 
 
 Fifteen leagues south of Vienna, amid marshy 
 flats along the river Leitha, hes the small village 
 of Rehrau. At the end of the straggling street 
 which constitutes the village, stood a low 
 thatched cottage and next to it a wheelwright's 
 shop, with a small patch of greensward before it. 
 The master wheelwright, Mathias Haydn, was 
 sexton, too, of the httle church on the hill. He 
 was a worthy man and very religious. A deep 
 love for music was part of the man's nature, 
 and it was shared to a large extent by his wife 
 Maria. Every Sunday evening he would bring 
 out his harp, on which he had taught himself to 
 play, and he and his wife would sing songs and 
 hymns, accompanied by the harp. The children, 
 too, would add their voices to the concert. 
 
 62 
 
Josef Haydn 53 
 
 The little boy Josef, sat near his father and 
 watched his playing with rapt attention. Some- 
 times he would take two sticks and make believe 
 play the violin, just as he had seen the village 
 schoolmaster do. And when he sang hymns 
 with the others, his voice was sweet and true. 
 The father watched the child with interest, and a 
 new hope rose within him. His own hf e had been 
 a bitter disappointment, for he had been unable 
 to satisfy his longing for a knowledge of the art 
 he loved. Perhaps Josef might one day become 
 a musician — indeed he might even rise to be 
 CapeUmeister. 
 
 Little Josef was bom March 31, 1732. The 
 mother had a secret desire that the boy should 
 join the priesthood, but the father, as we have 
 seen, hoped he would make a musical career, and 
 determined, though poor in this world's goods, to 
 aid him in every possible way. 
 
 About this time a distant relative, one Johann 
 Mathias Frankh by name, arrived at the Haydn 
 cottage on a visit. He was a schoolmaster at 
 Hainburg, a little town four leagues away. 
 During the regular evening concert he took 
 particular notice of Josef and his toy viohn. 
 The child's sweet voice indicated that he had the 
 makings of a good musician. At last he said: 
 "If you will let me take Sepperl, I will see he is 
 properly taught; I can see he promises well." 
 
 The parents were quite willing and as for little 
 
54 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 Sepperl, he was simply overjoyed, for he longed 
 to learn more about the beautiful music which 
 filled his soul. He went with his new cousin, as 
 he called Frankh, without any hesitation, and 
 with the expectation that his childish day dreams 
 were to be realized. 
 
 A new world indeed opened to the six year old 
 boy, but it was not all beautiful. Frankh was a 
 careful and strict teacher; Josef not only was 
 taught to sing well, but learned much about 
 various instruments. He had school lessons also. 
 But his life in other ways was hard and cheer- 
 less. The wife of his cousin treated him with the 
 utmost indifference, never looking after his 
 clothing or his well being in any way. After a 
 time his destitute and neglected appearance was 
 a source of misery to the refined, sensitive boy, 
 but he tried to reahze that present conditions 
 could not last forever, and he bravely endeavored 
 to make the best of them. Meanwhile the train- 
 ing of his voice was well advanced and when not 
 in school he could nearly always be found in 
 church, listening to the organ and the singing. 
 Not long after, he was admitted to the choir, 
 where his sweet young voice joined in the church 
 anthems. Always before his mind was a great 
 city where he knew he would find the most 
 beautiful music — the music of his dreams. That 
 city was Vienna, but it lay far away. Josef 
 
Josef Haydn 55 
 
 looked down at his ragged clothing and wondered 
 if he would ever see that magical city. 
 
 One morning his cousin told him there would 
 be a procession through the town in honor of a 
 prominent citizen who had just passed away. 
 A drummer was needed and the cousin had pro- 
 posed Josef. He showed the boy how to make 
 the strokes fpr^ march, with the result that Josef 
 walked in the procession and felt quite proud of 
 this exhibition of his skill. The very drum he 
 used that day is preserved in the httle church at 
 Hainburg. 
 
 A great event occurred in Josef's prospects at 
 the end of his second year of school life at Hain- 
 burg. The Capellmeister, Reutter by name, of 
 St. Stephen's cathedral in Vienna, came to see 
 his friend, the pastor of Hainburg. He hap- 
 pened to say he was looking for a few good voices 
 for the choir. "I can find you one at least," said 
 the pastor; "he is a scholar of Frankh, the school- 
 master, and has a sweet voice." 
 
 Josef was sent for and the schoolmaster soon 
 returned leading him by the hand. 
 
 "Well my little fellow," said the Capell- 
 meister, drawing him to his knee, "can you make 
 a shake?" 
 
 "No sir, but neither can my cousin Frankh." 
 
 Reutter laughed at this frankness, and then 
 proceeded to show him how the shake was done. 
 
56 Storp-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 Josef after a few trials was able to perform the 
 shake to the entire satisfaction of his teacher. 
 After testing him on a portion of a mass the 
 Capellmeister was willing to take him to the Can- 
 torei or Choir school of St. Stephen's in Vienna. 
 The boy's heart gave a great leap. Vienna, the 
 city of his dreams. And he was really going 
 there! He could scarcely beheve in his good 
 fortune. If he could have known all that was 
 to befall him there, he might not have been so 
 eager to go. But he was only a little eight-year- 
 old boy, and childhood's dreams are rosy. 
 
 Once arrived at the Cantorei, Josef plunged 
 into his studies with great fervor, and his prog- 
 ress was most rapid. He was now possessed 
 with a desire to compose, but had not the slight- 
 est idea how to go about such a feat. However, 
 he hoarded every scrap of music paper he could 
 find and covered it with notes. Reutter gave no 
 encouragement to such proceedings. One day 
 he asked what the boy was about, and when he 
 heard the lad was composing a "Salve Regina," 
 for twelve voices, he remarked it would be better 
 to write it for two voices before attempting it in 
 twelve. "And if you must try your hand at 
 composition," added Reutter more kindly, 
 "write variations on the motets and vespers 
 which are played in church." 
 
 As neither the Capellmeister nor any of the 
 teachers oflPered to show Josef the principles of 
 
Josef Haydn SI 
 
 composition, he was thrown upon his own re- 
 sources. With much self denial he scraped to- 
 gether enough money to buy two books which he 
 had seen at the second hand bookseller's and 
 which he had longed to possess. One was Fox's 
 "Gradus ad Parnassum," a treatise on composi- 
 tion and counterpoint; the other Matheson's 
 "The Complete Capellmeister." Happy in the 
 possession of these books, Josef used every mo- 
 ment outside of school and choir practise to 
 study them. He loved fun and games as well as 
 any boy, but music always came first. The de- 
 sire to perfect himself was so strong that he 
 often added several hours each day to those al- 
 ready required, working sixteen or eighteen 
 hours out of the twenty-four. 
 
 And thus a number of years slipped away 
 amid these happy surroundings. Little Josef 
 was now a likely lad of about fifteen years. It 
 was arranged that his younger brother Michael 
 was to come to the Cantorei. Josef looked 
 eagerly forward to this event, planning how he 
 would help the little one over the beginning and 
 show him the pleasant things that would happen 
 to him in the new life. But the elder brother 
 could not foresee the sorrow and privation in 
 store for him. From the moment Michael's 
 piu"e young voice filled the vast spaces of the 
 cathedral, it was plain that Josef's singing could 
 not compete with it. His soprano showed signs 
 
58 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 of breaking, and gradually the principal solo 
 parts, which had always fallen to him, were given 
 to the new chorister. On a special church day, 
 when there was more elaborate music, the "Salve 
 Regina," which had always been given to Josef, 
 was sung so beautifully by the little brother, that 
 the Emperor and Empress were delighted, and 
 they presented the young singer with twenty 
 ducats. 
 
 Poor Josef! He realized that his place was 
 virtually taken by the brother he had welcomed 
 so joyously only a short time before. No one 
 was to blame of course ; it was one of those things 
 that could not be avoided. But what actually 
 caused him to leave St. Stephen's was a boyish 
 prank played on one of the choir boys, who sat 
 in front of him. Taking up a new pair of 
 shears lying near, he snipped off, in a mischie- 
 vous moment, the boy's pigtail. For this jest he 
 was punished and then dismissed from the school. 
 He could hardly reahze it, in his first dazed, 
 angry condition. Not to enjoy the busy life any 
 more, not to see Michael and the others and have 
 a comfortable home and sing in the Cathedral. 
 How he lived after that he hardly knew. But 
 several miserable days went by. One rainy 
 night a young man whom he had known before, 
 came upon him near the Cathedral, and was 
 struck by his white, pinched face. He asked 
 where the boy was living. "Nowhere — I am 
 
Josef Haydn 59 
 
 starving," was the reply. Honest Franz 
 Spangler was touched at once. 
 
 "We can't stand here in the rain," he said. 
 "You know I haven't a palace to offer, but you 
 are welcome to share my poor place for one night 
 anyway. Then we shall see." 
 
 It was indeed a poor garret where the 
 Spanglers lived, but the cheerful fire and warm 
 bread and milk were luxuries to the starving lad. 
 Best of all was it to curl up on the fl.oor, beside 
 the dying embers and fall into refreshing slum- 
 ber. The next morning the world looked 
 brighter. He had made up his mind not to try 
 and see his brother; he would support himself by 
 music. He did not know just how he was going 
 to do this, but determined to fight for it and 
 never give in. 
 
 Spangler, deeply touched by the boy's forlorn 
 case, offered to let him occupy a corner of his 
 garret until he could find work, and Josef grate- 
 fully accepted. The boy hoped he could quickly 
 find something to do; but many weary months 
 were spent in looking for employment and in 
 seeking to secure pupils, before there was the 
 slightest sign of success. Thinly clad as he was 
 and with the vigorous appetite of seventeen, 
 which was scarcely ever appeased, he struggled 
 on, hopeful that spring would bring some sort of 
 good cheer. 
 
 But spring came, yet no employment was in 
 
60 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 sight. OHis sole earnings had been the coppers 
 thrown to him as he stood singing in the snow 
 covered streets, during the long cold winter. 
 Now it was spring, and hope rose within him. 
 He had been taught to have simple faith in God, 
 and felt sure that in some way his needs would 
 be met. 
 
 At last the tide turned slightly. A few pupils 
 attracted by the small fee he charged, took 
 lesiSons on the clavier; he got a few engagements 
 to play violin at balls and parties, while some 
 budding composers got him to revise their manu- 
 scripts for a small fee. All these cheering signs 
 of better times made Josef hopeful and grateful. 
 One day a special piece of good fortune came his 
 way. A man who loved music, at whose house 
 he had sometimes played, sent him a hundred 
 and fifty florins, to be repaid without interest 
 whenever convenient. 
 
 This sum seemed to Haydn a real fortune. 
 He was able to leave the Spanglers and take up a 
 garret of his own. There was no stove in it and 
 winter was coming on; it was only partly light, 
 even at midday, but the youth was happy. For 
 he had acquired a little worm-eaten spinet, and 
 he had added to his treasures the first six sonatas 
 of Emmanuel Bach. 
 
 On the third floor of the house which con- 
 tained the garret, lived a celebrated Italian poet, 
 Metastasio. Haydn and the poet struck up an 
 
Josef Haydn 61 
 
 acquaintance, which resulted, in the musician's 
 introduction to the poet's favorite pupil, 
 Marianne Martinez. Also through Metastasio, 
 Haydn met Nicolo Porpora, an eminent teacher 
 of singing and composition. About this time 
 another avenue opened, to him. It was a fashion 
 in Vienna to pick up a few florins by serenading 
 prominent persons. A manager of one of the 
 principal theaters in Vienna, Felix Kurz, had 
 recently married a beautiful woman, whose love- 
 liness was much talked of. It occurred to 
 Haydn to take a couple of companions along 
 and serenade the lady, playing some of his own 
 music. Soon after they had begun to play the 
 house door opened and Kurz himself stood there 
 in dressing gown and slippers. "Whose music 
 was that you were playing?" he asked. "My 
 own," was the answer. "Indeed; then just step 
 inside." The three entered, wondering. They 
 were presented to Madame, then were given re- 
 freshments. "Come and see me to-morrow," 
 said Kurz when the boys left; "I think I have 
 some work for you." 
 
 Haydn called next day and learned the 
 manager had written a libretto of a comic opera 
 which he called "The Devil on two Sticks," and 
 was looking for some one to compose the music. 
 In one place there was to be a tempest at sea, and 
 Haydn was asked how he would represent that. 
 As he had never seen the sea, he was at a loss how 
 
62 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 to express it. The manager said he himself had 
 never seen the ocean, but to his mind it was like 
 this, and he began to toss his arms wildly about. 
 Haydn tried every way he could think of to 
 represent the ocean, but Kurz was not satisfied. 
 At last he flung his hands down with a crash on 
 each end of the keyboard and brought them to- 
 gether in the middle. "That's it, that's it," cried 
 the manager and embraced the youth excitedly. 
 All went well with the rest of the opera. It was 
 finished and produced, but did not make much 
 stir, a fact which was not displeasing to the 
 composer, as he was not proud of his first at- 
 tempt. 
 
 His acquaintance with Porpora promised 
 better things. The singing master had noticed 
 his skill in playing the harpsichord, and oflFered 
 to engage him as accompanist. Haydn gladly 
 accepted at once, hoping to pick up much musical 
 knowledge in this way. Old Porpora was very 
 harsh and domineering at first, treating him 
 more like a valet than a musician. But at last he 
 was won over by Haydn's gentleness and 
 patience, until he was willing to answer all his 
 questions and to correct his compositions. Best 
 of aU he brought Haydn to the attention of the 
 nobleman in whose house he was teaching, so 
 that when the nobleman and his family went to 
 the baths of Mannersdorf for several months. 
 
Josef Haydn 63 
 
 Haydn was asked to go along as accompanist to 
 Porpora. 
 
 The distinguished -musicians he met at Man- 
 nersdorf were all very kind to him and showed 
 much interest in his compositions, many of which 
 were performed during this visit. The noble- 
 man, impressed with Haydn's desire to succeed, 
 allotted him a pension of a sum equal to fifteen 
 doUars a month. The young musician's first act 
 on receiving this was to buy himself a neat suit 
 of black. 
 
 Good fortune followed him on his return to 
 Vienna. More pupils came, imtil he was able to 
 raise his prices and move into better lodgings. 
 A wealthy patron of music, the Countess of 
 Thun, sent for him to come and see her. She 
 had heard one of his clavier sonatas played, 
 fovmd it charming and wished to see the com- 
 poser. Her manner was so sympathetic, that 
 Haydn was led to tell her the story of his 
 struggles. Tears came into her eyes as she 
 listened. She promised her support as friend 
 and pupil, and Haydn left her with a happy, 
 grateful heart. 
 
 His compositions were heard in the best 
 musical circles in Vierma, and the future was 
 bright with promise. A wealthy music patron 
 persuaded him to write a string quartet, the first 
 of many to follow. Through this man he re- 
 
64 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 ceived, in 1759, an appointment of music director 
 to a rich Bohemian, Count Morzin, who had a 
 small orchestra at his country seat. In the samel 
 year the first Symphony was composed. 
 
 As brighter days dawned, Haydn procured 
 all the works on theory obtainable, and studied 
 them deeply. He had mastered the difficulties 
 of the "Gradus," one of the books purchased 
 years before, and without any outside help had 
 worked out his musical independence, unin- 
 fluenced by any other musician. He was now 
 twentyrsix, and his fame was growing. Mean- 
 while an affair of the heart had great influence 
 on his life. Sometime previously Haydn had 
 been engaged to give lessons on the harpsichord 
 to two daughters of a wig-maker named Keller. 
 An attachment soon sprang up between the 
 teacher and the younger of the girls. His 
 poverty had stood in the way of making his 
 feelings known. But as prosperity began to 
 dawn, he grew courageous and asked the maiden 
 to become his wife. His disappointment was 
 keen when he found the girl had in the Iheantime 
 decided to take the veil. The wig-maker proved 
 to be a matchmaker, for when he learned how 
 matters stood he urged the composer to take the 
 sister, who was only three years older. The 
 gentle Haydn was unable to withstand the 
 pressure brought to bear, and consented. After 
 his bride was his he foimd he had won a virago. 
 
Josef Haydn 65 
 
 one who cared nothing for art or for her hus- 
 band's ideals> if only she could have enough 
 money to spend. 
 
 The composer was in sad straits for a while, 
 but fortunately a way opened by means of which 
 he could be free. Count Morzin, where he had 
 conducted the orchestra, was obliged to reduce 
 his estabhshment and dismissed his band and its 
 director. As soon as this was known, the reign- 
 ing Prince of Htmgary, Paul Anton Esterhazy 
 offered Haydn the post of assistant Capell- 
 meister at his coimtry seat of Eisenstadt. The 
 head Capellmeister, Werner, was old, but the 
 Prince kept him on account of his long service. 
 Haydn, however, was to have entire control of 
 the orchestra, and also of most of the musical 
 arrangements. 
 
 Haydn was blissfully happy over the reali- 
 zation of his highest hopes. In his wildest 
 dreams he had never imagined such magnificence 
 as he found at the palace of Eisenstadt. The 
 great buildings, troops of servants, the wonder- 
 ful parks and gardens, with their flowers, lakes 
 and fountains almost made him believe he was in 
 fairyland. Of course there would be some hard 
 work, though it would not seem hard amid such 
 fascinating surroundings and there would be 
 plenty of leisure for his own creative activities. 
 Best of all his wife could not be with him. 
 
 Prince Paul Anton passed away after a year 
 
66 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 and his brother Nikolaus succeeded him. He 
 advanced Haydn still further, and increased his 
 salary. Werner, the old Capellmeister, died in 
 1766, and Haydn succeeded to the full title. 
 This was the father's dream for his boy Josef, 
 and it had been abundantly realized. His 
 mother had passed away, but his father was 
 living, and had come, on one occasion, to Eisen- 
 stadt to see him. His brother Michael who had 
 now become Concertmeister in Salzburg, spent 
 several happy days with him also. 
 
 The summer residence of Prince Nikolaus at 
 Esterhazy had been rebuilt, enlarged and was 
 more magnificent than Eisenstadt. The music 
 was more elaborate. The Prince was so fond of 
 the hfe there that he postponed his return to 
 town till late in the autumn. 
 
 In order to give him a hint through music, 
 Haydn composed what he called the "Farewell 
 Symphony," in which, toward the close each pair 
 of players in turn rose, extinguished their candles 
 and passed out, until only the first viohnist re- 
 mained. He last of all blew out his light and 
 left, while Haydn prepared to follow. The 
 Prince at last understood, and treating the whole 
 as a joke, gave orders for the departure of the 
 household. 
 
 In 1790 Haydn lost the master to whom he 
 was so devotedly attached. He received a pen- 
 sion of a thousand florins on condition that he 
 
Josef Haydn 67 
 
 would retain his post. But Prince Anton, who 
 succeeded his brother, cared nothing for music; 
 Haydn was not obliged to live at the palace and 
 retiu-ned to Vienna. Several attempts had al- 
 ready been made to induce him to visit London, 
 but he always had refused. Now there seemed 
 to be no obstacle in the way. One day a visitor 
 called. "My name is Salomon; I have come 
 from London to fetch you; we will settle terms 
 to-morrow." On the sail from Calais to Dover, 
 the composer first saw the sea and was re- 
 minded of his boyish efforts to describe it in 
 tones. 
 
 London welcomed Haydn warmly, for his 
 fame had preceded him and his music was 
 familiar. The first concert was given March 11, 
 1790 at the Hanover Square Rooms, and was a 
 great success. This was followed by a series of 
 concerts, and at last a benefit for the composer 
 on May 16, which was an ovation and realized 
 three hundred and fifty pounds. He heard the 
 "Messiah" for the first time and when, at the 
 "Hallelujah Chorus," the audience sprang to its 
 feet, he burst into tears, exclaiming "He is the 
 master of us all!" 
 
 At Oxford, in July, he received the honorary 
 degree of Doctor of Music, and three great con- 
 certs were given in his honor, with special per- 
 formers brought from London. In fact the 
 whole visit to England had been such a success 
 
68 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 that he repeated the trip in 1794, and received 
 even greater honors. His symphonies were 
 heard on all London programs. He was the 
 lion of the season, and was frequently invited to 
 Buckingham Palace to play for the King and 
 Queen, who always urged him to live in England. 
 Haydn was now sixty-five; he had composed 
 quantities of music, but his greatest work, "The 
 Creation," was not yet written. While in Lon- 
 don, Salomon had shown him a poem founded on 
 "Paradise Lost," written years before in the 
 hope that Handel would use it for an oratorio. 
 Haydn decided to try his hand at oratorio on 
 this subject. As he went on, it grew to be a 
 labor of love and prayer. It was finished and 
 performed in Vienna, March 19, 1799, and made 
 a profoimd impression. The composer at once 
 began work on a second oratorio, founded on 
 Thompson's "Seasons." The desire for work 
 was strong within, but his health was failing. 
 " 'The Seasons' gave me my finishing stroke," he 
 often remarked to friends. 
 
 Haydn was acknowledged on every hand as 
 the father of instrumental music. He laid great 
 stress on melody. "It is the air which is the 
 charm of music," he said, "and it is the air which 
 is the most difficult to produce. The invention 
 of a fine melody is a work of genius." 
 
 Full of years and honors, respected and be- 
 loved. Father Haydn passed away. As Vienna 
 
Cvo 
 
 L/cA-u^'^ad/, c^/tt<fL (xr^ fi 
 
 
Josef Haydn 69 
 
 II I J i j , I I I ■ I 
 
 was at that time in the hands of the French, he 
 was given a very simple burial. In 1820 Prince 
 Esterhazy had the remains reinterred in the 
 upper parish church at Eisenstadt, where a 
 simple stone with Latin inscription is placed in 
 the wall above the vault to mark the spot. 
 
VI 
 
 WOLFGANG MOZART 
 
 The early December dusk was closing in over 
 the quaint old city of Salzburg. Up on the 
 heights above the town the battlements of the 
 great castle caught a reflection of the last gleams 
 of light in the sky. But the narrow streets 
 below were quite in shadow. 
 
 In one of the substantial looking houses on a 
 principal thoroughfare, called the Getreide 
 Gasse, lights gleamed from windows on the third 
 floor. Within, all was arranged as if for some 
 special occasion. The larger room, with its three 
 windows looking on the street, was immaculate 
 in its neatness. The brass candlesticks shone 
 like gold, the mahogany table was polished like 
 a mirror, the simple furniture likewise. For to- 
 day was Father Mozart's birthday and the little 
 household was to celebrate the event. 
 
 Mother Mozart had been busy all day putting 
 everything in order while Nannerl, the seven 
 year old daughter, had been helping. Little 
 Wolfgang, now three years old, in his childish 
 eagerness to be as busy as the others, had only 
 
 70 
 
Wolfgang M ozart 71 
 
 hindered, and had to be reprimanded once in a 
 while. One could never be vexed with the little 
 elf, even if he turned somersaults in new clean 
 clothes, or made chalk figures all over the living- 
 room chairs. He never meant to do any harm, 
 and was always so tenderhearted and loyable, it 
 was hard to scold him. 
 
 And this was the Father's birthday, about the 
 most important of all the family celebrations. 
 Already the roast on the spit was nearing per- 
 fection, while in the oven a fine cake was brown- 
 ing. 
 
 When all was ready and Leopold Mozart had 
 received the good wishes of the little household, 
 baby Wolfgang was mounted on a footstool to 
 recite a poem in honor of the occasion. When 
 he had finished it he stood quietly a moment then 
 reaching out his tiny arms, clasped them tightly 
 about his father's neck, and said: 
 
 "Dear papa, I love you very, very much; after 
 God, next comes my papa." 
 
 Leopold Mozart was a musician and held the 
 post of Vice-Capellmeister. Music was honored 
 in this simple home, and when two of the Court 
 musicians, friends of Father Mozart, came in to 
 join the festivities on this birthday night, a toast 
 was drunk to the honor of Musica, the divine 
 goddess of tones. 
 
 "I wonder if even a little of my own musical 
 knowledge and love for the art will overflow 
 
72 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 upon the two dear children," remarked Father 
 Mozart, gazing down tenderly on the little ones. 
 
 "Why not," answered the mother; "you long 
 ago promised to begin lessons with Nannerl; can 
 she not start this very night?" ' 
 
 "Yes, indeed, Papachen, may I not learn to 
 play the piano? I promise to work very hard." 
 
 "Very well," answered the father; "you shaU 
 see I am grateful for all the love you have showed 
 me tonight, and I will begin to teach Nannerl at 
 once." 
 
 "I want to learn music too," broke in little 
 Wolfgang, looking at his father with beaming 
 eyes. 
 
 Every one laughed at this, while the father 
 said baby Wolfgang would have to grow some 
 inches before he could reach the keys. 
 
 The lesson began, and the little girl showed 
 both quickness and patience to grasp the ideas. 
 No one at first noticed the tiny child who planted 
 himself at his sister's elbow, the light of the 
 candles falling on his delicate, sensitive featm^es 
 and bright brown hair. His glance never left 
 Nannerl's fingers as they felt hesitatingly among 
 the white and black keys, while his ear easily un- 
 derstood the intervals she tried to play. 
 
 When the little girl left the piano, or the harp- 
 sichord, as it was called in those days, Wolfgang 
 slipped into her place and began to repeat with 
 his tiny fingers what his father had taught her. 
 
Wolfgang Mozart 78 
 
 He sought the different intervals, and when at 
 last he found them, his little face beamed with 
 joy. In a short time he was able to play all the 
 simple exercises that had been given his sister. 
 
 The parents hstened to their wonder-child 
 with ever increasing astonishment, mingled with 
 tears of emotion. It was plain to be seen that 
 Wolfgang must have lessons as well as Nannerl. 
 And what joy it would be to teach them both. 
 
 It was a happy household that retired that 
 night. Nannerl was happy because she at last 
 had the chance to take piano lessons. Wolf- 
 gang, Kttle "Starbeam," dreamed of the wonder- 
 ful Goddess of Music, who carried him away to 
 fairyland which was filled with beautiful music. 
 The parents were filled with joy that heaven had 
 granted them such blessings in their children. 
 
 The musical progress of the children was quite 
 remarkable. Marianne, which was Nannerl's 
 real name, soon began to play very well indeed, 
 while little Wolfgang hardly had to be told any- 
 thing in music, for he seemed to know it already. 
 The father would write Minuets for the little 
 girl to study; her tiny brother would learn them 
 in half an hour. Soon Wolfgang was able to 
 compose his own Minuets. Several have come 
 down to us which he wrote when he was five 
 years old ; and they are quite perfect in form and 
 style. 
 
 One day Father Mozart brought home 
 
74 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 Schachtner, the Court trumpeter, to dinner. 
 Coming suddenly into the living-room, they 
 found the tiny elf busily writing at his father's 
 desk. . 
 
 "Whatever are you doing, Wolferl?" cried his 
 father, gazing at the ink stained fingers of his 
 little son and then at the paper covered with 
 blots. 
 
 "Oh, Papa, a piano sonata, but it isn't finished 
 yet." 
 
 "Never mind that," said Leopold Mozart, "let 
 us see it, it must be something very fine." 
 Taking up the paper the father and his friend 
 looked at it curiously. The sheets were be- 
 daubed with ink stains that almost concealed the 
 notes. For the child had thrust his pen each 
 time to the bottom of the ink well, so that fre- 
 quent blots on the paper were the result. These 
 did not trouble him in the least, for he merely 
 rubbed his hand over the offending blot and pro- 
 ceeded with his writing. 
 
 At first the two friends laughed heartily to see 
 how the little composer had written the notes 
 over smudges, but soon the father's eyes filled 
 with happy tears. 
 
 "Look, my dear Schachtner!" he cried. "See 
 how correct and orderly it all is, all written ac- 
 cording to rule. Only one could never play it 
 for it seems to be too difiicult." 
 
 "But it's a sonata, Papa, and one must practice 
 
Wolfgang Mozart 75 
 
 it first, of course, but this is the way it should go." 
 
 He sprang to the piano and began to play. 
 The small fingers could not master the more in- 
 tricate parts, but gave sufficient idea of how he 
 intended the piece to sound. 
 
 They stood in speechless astoniishment at this 
 proof of the child's powers ; then Leopold Mozart 
 caught up the little composer and kissing him 
 cried, "My Wolfgang, you will become a great 
 musician." 
 
 Wolfgang, not content with merely learning 
 the piano, begged to study the violin also. His 
 violin lessons had hardly begun when one evening 
 his father and two friends were about to play a 
 set of six trios, composed by Wentzl, one of the 
 players. Wolfgang begged to be allowed to 
 play the second violin. Needless to say his re- 
 quest was refused. At last he was told he might 
 sit next to Schachtner and make believe play, 
 though he must make no sound. 
 
 The playing began, when before long it was 
 seen the boy was actually playing the second 
 violin part and doing it correctly. The second 
 violin ceased bowing in amazement and allowed 
 Wolfgang to go on alone. After this he was 
 permitted to play all the second violin part of the 
 whole six pieces. Emboldened by this success, 
 he volunteered to attempt the first violin part, an 
 oflFer which was greeted with laughter; but noth- 
 ing daunted, he took up his violin and began. 
 
76 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 There were mistakes here and there, of course, 
 but he persisted to the end, to the astonishment 
 of all. 
 
 Three years had passed swiftly by since little 
 Wolfgang Mozart began to study music the 
 night of his father's fortieth birthday. He had 
 made marvelous progress and already the fame 
 of his powers had passed beyond the narrow 
 limits of his native town. Leopold Mozart had 
 no means other than the salary which he received 
 from the Court. His children's musical gifts 
 induced the father to turn them to advantage, 
 both to supply the family needs and to provide 
 the children a broad education in music. He de- 
 termined to travel with the children. A first 
 experiment in January, 1762, had proved so suc- 
 cessful that the following September they set 
 out for Vienna. Wolfgang was now six years 
 old and Marianne eleven. 
 
 At Linz they gave a successful concert and 
 every one was delighted with the playing of the 
 children. From here they continued their 
 journey as far as the monastery of Ips, where 
 they expected to stay for the night. It had been 
 a wonderful day, spent in sailing down the 
 majestic Danube, till they reached the grey old 
 building with its battlemented walls. Soon 
 after they arrived. Father Mozart took Wolf- 
 gang into the chapel to see the organ. 
 
 The child gazed with awe at the great pipes. 
 
Wolfgang Wozart 77 
 
 the keyboard and the pedals. He begged his 
 father to explain their working, and then as the 
 father fiUed the great bellows the tiny organist 
 pusljed aside the organ bench, stood upon the 
 pedals and trod them, as though he had always 
 known how. The monks in the monastery 
 hastened to the chapel, holding their breath as 
 one pointed to the figure of a tiny child in the 
 organ loft. Was it possible, they asked them- 
 selves, that a child could produce such beautiful 
 music? They remained rooted to the spot, tiU 
 Wolfgang happened to see them and crept 
 meekly down from his perch. 
 
 All the rest of the journey to Vienna, Wolf- 
 gang was the life of the party, eager to know the 
 name and history of everything they met. At 
 the custom-house on the frontier, he made friends 
 with the officials by playing for them on his 
 violin, and thus secured an easy pass for the 
 party. 
 
 Arrived at Vienna, Leopold Mozart found the 
 fame of the children's playing had preceded 
 them. A kind and gracious welcome awaited 
 the little party when they went to the palace of 
 Schonbrunn. The Emperor Franz Josef took 
 to Wolfgang at once, was delighted with his 
 playing and called him his "little magician." 
 The boy's powers were tested by being required 
 to read difficult pieces at sight, and playing with 
 one finger, as the Emperor jestingly asked him 
 
78 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 to do. Next, the keyboard was covered with a 
 cloth, as a final test, but little Wolfgang played 
 as finely as before, to the great delight of the 
 company who applauded heartily. The little 
 magician was so pleased with the kindness of 
 both the Emperor and Empress that he returned 
 it in his own childish way, by climbing into the 
 lap of the Empress and giving her a hug and a 
 kiss, just as though she were his own mother. 
 He was also greatly attracted by the little 
 Princess Marie Antoinette, a beautiful child of 
 about his own age, with long fair curls and laugh- 
 ing blue eyes. The two struck up an immediate 
 friendship. 
 
 After the favor shown them at Court, the 
 gifted children became the rage in Vienna 
 society. Invitations poured in from every side, 
 and many gifts. Those bestowed by the royal 
 family were perhaps the most valued. Wolf- 
 gang's present was a violet colored suit, trimmed 
 with broad gold braid, while Nannerl received a 
 pretty white silk dress. Each of the children 
 also received a beautiful diamond ring from the 
 Emperor. A portrait of the boy in his gala suit, 
 which was painted at the time, is still preserved. 
 
 The following year the Mozarts took the chil- 
 dren on a longer journey, this time with Paris in 
 view. They stopped at many towns and cities 
 on the way. At Frankfort the first performance 
 Was so successful that three more were given. 
 
Wolfgang Mozart 79 
 
 A newspaper of the time says "little Mozart is 
 able to name all notes played at a distance, 
 whether single or in chords, whether played on 
 the piano, or any other instrument, bell, glass or 
 clock." The father offered as an additional at- 
 traction that Wolfgang would play with the key- 
 board covered. 
 
 The family stayed five months in Paris; the 
 children played before the Court at Versailles, 
 exciting surprise and enthusiasm there and 
 wherever they appeared. From Paris they 
 traveled to London, in April, 1764. 
 
 Leopold Mozart's first care on reaching the 
 great English metropolis was to obtain an intro- 
 duction at Court. King George III and the 
 Queen were very fond of music, and it was not 
 long before an invitation came for the children to 
 attend at the Palace. The King showed the 
 greatest interest in Wolfgang, asking him to 
 play at sight difficult pieces by Bach and 
 Handel. Then the boy, after accompanying 
 the Queen in a song, selected the bass part in a 
 piece by Handel, and improvised a charm- 
 ing melody to it. The King was so impressed 
 that he wished him to play the organ, in the play- 
 ing of which Wolfgang won a further tri- 
 umph. 
 
 The King's birthday was to be celebrated on 
 June 4 and London was crowded with people 
 from all parts of the country. Leopold Mozart 
 
80 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 had chosen June 5 as the date for his first public 
 concert. The hall was filled to overflowing; one 
 hundred guineas being taken in. Many of the 
 assisting performers would take no fee for their 
 services, which added to the father's gratitude 
 and happiness. 
 
 Not long after this Leopold Mozart fell ill, 
 and the little family moved to Chelsea, for the 
 quiet and good air. Later they were given 
 another reception at Court, where, after Wolf- 
 gang's wonderful performances, the children won 
 much applause by playing some piano duets com- 
 posed by the boy — a style of composition then 
 quite new. 
 
 In July, 1765, the family left London and 
 traveled in Holland, after which came a second 
 visit to Paris, where they added to their former 
 triumphs, in addition to playing in many towns 
 on the way back. Finally the long tour was 
 brought to a close by the return to Salzburg in 
 November, 1766. 
 
 At the period of musical history in which the 
 gifted boy lived, a musician's education was not 
 complete unless he went to Italy, for this country 
 stood first as the home of music. Leopold 
 Mozart had made a couple of trips to Vienna 
 with his children, the account of which need not 
 detain us here. He had decided that Wolfgang 
 must go to Italy, and breathe in the atmosphere 
 of that land of song. And so in December, 1769, 
 
Wolfgang Mozart 81 
 
 father and son set out for the sunny south, with 
 high hopes for success. 
 
 Mozart's happy nature was jubilant over the 
 journey. He watched eagerly the peasants as 
 they danced on the vine-clad terraces, over- 
 looking the deep blue lakes, — or listened as they 
 sang at their work in the sunny fields. He 
 gazed at the wonderful processions of priests 
 through narrow streets of the towns, but above 
 all there was the grand music in the cathedrals. 
 
 The young musician had plenty of work to do, 
 more than most boys of thirteen. For, besides 
 the concerts he had to give, he was set difficult 
 problems by the various professors who wished 
 to test his powers. The fame of his playing con- 
 stantly spread, so the further he traveled into 
 Italy there were more demands to hear him. At 
 Roveredo, where it was announced he would 
 play the organ in St. Thomas's Church, the 
 crowd was so great he could scarcely get to the 
 organ-loft. The vast audience listened spell- 
 bound, and then refused to disperse till they had 
 caught a glimpse of the boy player. At Verona 
 he had another triumph; one of his symphonies 
 was performed, and his portrait was ordered to 
 be painted. 
 
 When they reached Milan the Chief musician 
 of the city subjected the boy to severe tests, all 
 of which he accomplished to the astonishment and 
 delight of everybody. It was at Bologna how- 
 
82 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 ever, where he met the most flattering reception. 
 Here was the home of the famous Padre Martini, 
 the aged composer of church music. Father 
 Martini was ahnost worshiped by the Italians; 
 he was a most lovable man and looked up to as a 
 great composer. He had long ago given up at- 
 tending concerts, so that every one was astonished 
 when he was present in the brilliant audience 
 gathered at Count Pallavicini's mansion to listen 
 to the boy's playing. Wolfgang did his best, for 
 he realized the importance of the event. Father 
 Martini took the boy to his heart at once, invited 
 him to visit him as often as possible during his 
 stay, and gave him several fugue subjects to 
 work out. These the boy accomplished with 
 ease, and the Padre declared he was perfectly 
 satisfied with his knowledge of composition. 
 
 The journey to Rome was now continued, and 
 for Wolfgang it was a succession of triumphs. 
 At Florence he played before the Court of the 
 Archduke Leopold, and solved every problem 
 put to him by the Coiu"t music director as easily 
 as though he were eating a bit of bread. 
 
 It was Holy Week when young Mozart and 
 his father entered Rome, and the city lay under 
 the spell of the great festival of the year. They 
 soon joined the throngs that filled the vast 
 temple of St. Peter's, to which all turn during 
 this solemn season. After attending a service 
 and viewing the treasures of the Cathedral, they 
 
Wolfgang Mozart 83 
 
 turned their steps to the Sistine Chapel, which 
 contains the wonderful painting of the Last 
 Judgment by Michael Angelo; It was here that 
 the celebrated Miserere by Allegri was per- 
 formed. Wolfgang had been looking forward 
 to this moment all through the latter part of his 
 journey. His father had told him how jealously 
 guarded this music was; it could never be per- 
 formed in any other place, and the singers could 
 never take their parts out of the chapel. He 
 was intensely eager to hear this work. And in- 
 deed it would be difficult to imagine anything 
 more beautiful and impressive than the singing 
 of the Miserere, which means "Have Mercy." 
 It follows the solemn service called Tenebrae, 
 (Darkness) during which the six tall candles on 
 the altar are extinguished one by one, — till but 
 one is left, which is removed to a space behind the 
 altar. Then in almost complete darkness the 
 Miserere begins. A single voice is heard sing- 
 ing the antiphon, or short introduction, — and 
 then comes silence, a silence so profound that the 
 listener scarcely dares to breathe for fear of dis- 
 turbing it. At length the first sad notes of the 
 supplication are heard, like the softest wailing of 
 an anguished spirit; they gradually gain force 
 till the whole building seems to throb with the 
 thrilling intensity of the music. 
 
 The young musician was profoundly moved; 
 the father too. was much affected by the solemn 
 
84 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 service. Neither spoke as they left the chapel 
 and sought their lodgings. After they had re- 
 tired the boy could not sleep ; his thoughts were 
 filled with the wonderful music he had heard. 
 He arose, lit the lamp, and got out pens and 
 music paper. He worked industriously the long 
 night through. When morning dawned the boy 
 sat with his beautiful head upon his folded arms, 
 asleep, while before him on the table lay a score 
 of the Miserere of AUegri, entirely written from 
 memory. 
 
 The next day. Good Friday, the Miserere was 
 performed for the second time. Wolfgang, the 
 boy of fourteen, who had performed the wonder- 
 ful feat of writing this work out after one hear- 
 ing, again attended the service, keeping the score 
 in his hat, and found his work was nearly per- 
 fect, needing but a couple of trifling corrections. 
 
 The news of this startling feat gained for the 
 young musician a cordial welcome into the houses 
 of the great in Rome; during their stay father 
 and son were feted to their hearts' content. 
 
 At Naples, their next stopping place, Wolf- 
 gang played before a brilliant company, and ex- 
 cited so much astonishment, that people declared 
 his power in playing came from a ring he wore on 
 his finger. "He wears a charm," they cried. 
 Mozart smiled, took off the ring and played more 
 brilliantly than ever. Then the enthusiasm was 
 redoubled. The Neapolitans showed them 
 
Wolfgang Mozart 85 
 
 every attention and honor. A carriage was pro- 
 vided for their use, and we have an account of 
 how they drove through the best streets, the 
 father wearing a maroon-colored coat with light 
 blue facings, and Wolfgang in one of apple 
 green, with rose-colored facings and silver 
 buttons. 
 
 It was indeed a wonderful tour which they 
 made in Italy, though there is not time to tell of 
 many things that happened. On their return to 
 Rome, the Pope gave him the order of the 
 Golden Spur, which made hun Chevalier de 
 Mozart. Arriving at Bologna the young 
 musician was made a member of the Accademia 
 Filharmonica. The test for this admission was 
 setting an antiphon in four parts. Wolfgang 
 was locked in a room till the task should be 
 finished. To the astonishment of everybody he 
 asked to be let out at the end of half an hour, — 
 having completed the work. 
 
 The travelers now proceeded to Milan, where 
 Mozart was to work on his first opera, for which 
 he had received a commission. It was a great 
 task for a boy to accomplish and we find the 
 young composer writing to his mother and sister 
 to pray for his success. The opera was called 
 "Mitridate," and was finished after three months' 
 hard work. The first performance was given in 
 Milan, December 26, 1770, and was conducted 
 by Wolfgang himself. It was a proud, happy 
 
86 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 day for the father, indeed for the whole family. 
 "Mitridate" succeeded beyond their hopes; it 
 was given twenty times before crowded houses; 
 and its success brought an election to the 
 Accademia, and also a commission to write a 
 dramatic Serenata for an approaching royal 
 wedding. This work also was a great success. 
 The Empress who had commissioned Mozart to 
 compose the work was so pleased, that besides the 
 promised fee, she gave the composer a gold watch 
 with her portrait set in diamonds on the back. 
 
 Sunshine and success had followed the gifted 
 boy through all his travels ; but now shadows and 
 disappointments were to come, due to jealousy, 
 intrigue and indifference of those in power who 
 might have helped him but failed to recognize his 
 genius. Shortly after the return of the father 
 and son to their home town of Salzburg, their 
 protector and friend, the good Archbishop of 
 Salzburg, died. His successor was indifferent to 
 art and held in contempt those who followed it 
 as a profession. He persistently refused to ap- 
 point the young musician to any office worthy 
 his talent or to recognize his gifts in any way. 
 While Mozart remained at home in Salzburg, 
 hoping his prospects would improve, he worked 
 at composing with untiring dihgence. By the 
 time he was twenty-one he had accumulated a 
 mass of music that embraced every branch of the 
 art. He had a growing reputation as a com- 
 
Wolfgang Mozart 87 
 
 poser but no settled future. He had the post of 
 eoncertmaster, it is true, but the salary was but a 
 trijfle and he was often pressed for money. Leo- 
 pold therefore decided to undertake another pro- 
 fessional tour with his son. The Archbishop 
 however prevented the father leaving Salzburg. 
 So the only course left open was to allow Wolf- 
 gang and his mother to travel together. They 
 set out on the morning of September 23, 1777. 
 Wolfgang's spirits rose as the town of Salzburg 
 faded into the haze of that September morning; 
 the sense of freedom was exhilarating; he had 
 escaped the place associated in his mind with 
 tyranny and oppression, to seek his fortune in 
 new and wider fields. 
 
 At Munich where they first halted, Wolfgang 
 sought an engagement at the Elector's Coiu't. 
 He had an audience at the Nymphenburg, a mag- 
 nificent palace on the outskirts of the city. The 
 Elector said there was no vacancy; he did not 
 know but later it might be possible to make one, 
 after Mozart had been to Italy and had made a 
 name for himself. With these words the Elector 
 turned away. Mozart stood as if stunned. To 
 Italy, when he had concertized there for about 
 seven years, and had been showered with honors ! 
 It was too much. He shook off the dust of 
 Munich and he and his mother went on to Mann- 
 heim. Here was a more congenial atmosphere. 
 The Elector maintained a fine orchestra, and 
 
88 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 with the conductor, Cannabich, Mozart became 
 great friends, giving music lessons to his 
 daughter. But he could not seem to secure a 
 permanent appointment at Court, worthy his 
 genius and ability. Money became more scarce 
 and the father and sister must make many sacri- 
 fices at home to send money to maintain mother 
 and son. With the best of intentions Wolfgang 
 failed to make his way except as a piano teacher. 
 The father had resorted to the same means of 
 secm-ing the extra sums required, and wrote 
 quite sharply to the son to bestir himself and get 
 something settled for the future. 
 
 For the young genius, Mannheim possessed a 
 special attraction of which the father knew noth- 
 ing. Shortly after their arrival in the city, 
 Wolfgang became acquainted with the Weber 
 family. The two oldest daughters, Aloysia, 
 fifteen, and Constanza, fourteen, were charming 
 girls just budding into womanhood. Aloysia 
 had a sweet, pure voice, and was studying for the 
 stage ; indeed she had already made her debut in 
 opera. It was not at all strange that young 
 Mozart, who often joined the family circle, should 
 fall in love with the girl's fair beauty and fresh 
 voice, should write songs for her and teach her 
 to sing them as he wished. They were much to- 
 gether and their early attraction fast ripened 
 into love. Wolfgang formed a project for help- 
 ing the Webers, who were in rather straitened 
 
Wolfgang Mozart 89 
 
 circumstances, by undertaking a journey to Italy 
 in company with Aloysia and her father; he 
 would write an opera in which Aloysia should ap- 
 pear as prima donna. Of this brilliant plan 
 he wrote his father, saying they could stop 
 in Salzburg on the way, when the father and 
 Nafanerl could meet the fair young singer, whom 
 they would be sure to love. 
 
 Leopold Mozart was distracted at news of this 
 project. He at once wrote, advising his son to 
 go to Paris and try there to make a name and 
 fame for himself. The son dutifully yielded at 
 once. With a heavy heart he prepared to leave 
 Mannheim, where he had spent such a happy 
 wiater, and his love dream came to an end. It 
 was a sad parting with the Weber household, for 
 they regarded Wolfgang as their greatest bene- 
 factor. 
 
 The hopes Leopold Mozart had built on Wolf- 
 gang's success in Paris were not to be realized. 
 The enthusiasm he had aroused as a child prodigy 
 was not awarded to the matured musician. 
 Three months passed away in more or less fruit- 
 less endeavor. Then the mother, who had been 
 his constant companion in these trials and travels, 
 fell seriously ill. On July 3, 1778, she passed 
 away in her son's arms. 
 
 Mozart prepared to leave Paris at once, and his 
 father was the more willing, since the Archbishop 
 of Salzburg offered Wolfgang the position 
 
90 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 i 
 
 of Court organist, at a salary of 500 florins, with 
 permission to absent himself whenever he might 
 be called upon to conduct his own operas. Leo- 
 pold urged Wolfgang's acceptance, as their 
 joint income would amount to one thousand 
 florins a year — a sum that would enable them to 
 pay their debts and live in comparative comfort. 
 
 To Mozart the thought of settling down in 
 Salzburg under the conditions stated in his 
 father's letter was distasteful, but he had not the 
 heart to withstand his father's appeal. He set 
 out from Paris at once, promising himself just 
 one indulgence before entering the bondage 
 which lay before him, a visit to his friends the 
 Webers at Mannheim. When he arrived there 
 he found they had gone to Munich to live. 
 Therefore he pushed on to Munich. The Weber 
 family received him as warmly as of old, but in 
 Aloysia's eyes there was only a friendly greeting, 
 nothing more. A few short months had cooled 
 her fickle attachment for the young composer. 
 This discovery was a bitter trial to Wolfgang 
 and he returned to his Salzburg home saddened 
 by disappointed love and ambition. 
 
 Here in his old home he was cheered by a rap- 
 turous welcome ; it was little short of a triumph, 
 this greeting and homage showered on him by 
 father, sister and friends. In their eyes his suc- 
 cess was unshadowed by failure ; to them he was 
 Mozart the great composer, the genius among 
 
Wolfgang Mozart 91 
 
 musicians. He was very grateful for these 
 proofs of affection and esteem, but he had still 
 the same aversion to Salzburg and his Cotirt 
 duties. So it was with new-kindled joy that he 
 set out once more for Munich, in November, 
 1780, to complete and produce the opera he had 
 been commissioned to write for the carnival the 
 following year. 
 
 The new opera, "Idomeneo," fulfilled the high 
 expectations his Munich friends had formed of 
 the composer's genius. Its reception at the re- 
 hearsals proved success was certain, and the 
 Elector who was present, joined the performers 
 in expressing his unqualified approval. At 
 home the progress of the work was followed with 
 deepest interest. The first performance of 
 "Idomeneo" took place on January 29, 1781. 
 Leopold and Marianne journeyed to Munich to 
 witness Wolfgang's triumph. It was a proud, 
 happy moment for all three; the enthusiastic 
 acclaim which shook the theater seemed to the old 
 father, who watched with swimming eyes the sea 
 of waving hands around him, to set the seal of 
 greatness on his son's career. 
 
 The Archbishop, under whom Mozart held the 
 meager ofiice we have spoken of, grew more 
 overbearing in his treatment; he was undoubt- 
 edly jealous that great people of Vienna were 
 so deferential to one of his servants, as he chose 
 to call him. At last the rupture came; after a 
 
92 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 stormy scene Mozart was dismissed from his ser- 
 vice, and was free. 
 
 Father Mozart was alarmed when he heard the 
 news of the break, and endeavored to induce 
 Wolfgang to reconsider his decision and return 
 to Salzhm-g. But the son took a firm stand for 
 his independence. "Do not ask me to return to 
 Salzburg," he wrote his father; "ask me any- 
 thing but that." 
 
 And now came a time of struggling for 
 Mozart. His small salary was cut off and he 
 had but one pupU. He had numerous friends, 
 however, and soon his fortunes began to mend. 
 He was lodging with his old friends the Webers. 
 Aloysia, his former beloved, had married; 
 Madame Weber and her two unmarried daugh- 
 ters were now in Vienna and in reduced circum- 
 stances. Mozart's latest opera, "The Elope- 
 ment," had brought him fame both in Vienna 
 and Prague, and he had the patronage of many 
 distinguished persons, as well as that of Em- 
 peror Josef. 
 
 Mozart had now decided to make a home for 
 himself, and chose as his bride Constanza Weber, 
 a yoimger sister of Aloysia, his first love. In 
 spite of Leopold Mozart's remonstrance, the 
 yoimg people were married August 16, 1782. 
 
 Constanza, though a devoted wife, was inex- 
 perienced in home keeping. The young couple 
 were soon involved in many financial troubles 
 
Wolfgang Mozart 93 
 
 from which there seemed no way out, except by 
 means of some Court appointment. This the 
 Emperor in spite of his sincere interest in the 
 composer, seemed disincUned to give. 
 
 Mozart now thought seriously of a journey 
 to London and Paris, but his father's urgent ap- 
 peal that he would wait and exercise patience, 
 delayed him. Meanwhile he carried out an ard- 
 ent desire to pay a visit to his father and sister 
 in Salzburg, to present to them his bride. It 
 was a very happy visit, and later on, when 
 Mozart and his wife were again settled in Vienna, 
 they welcomed the father on a return visit. Leo- 
 pold found his son immersed in work, and it 
 gladdened his heart to see the appreciation in 
 which his playing and compositions were held. 
 One happy evening they spent with Josef 
 Haydn who, after hearing some of Mozart's 
 quartets played, took the father aside, saying: 
 "I declare before God, as a man of honor, that 
 your son is the greatest composer I know, either 
 personally or by reputation. He has taste, but 
 more than that the most consummate knowledge 
 of the art of composition." 
 
 This happy time was to be the last meeting be- 
 tween father and son. Soon after Leopold's 
 return to Salzburg, he was stricken with illness, 
 and passed away May 28, 1787. The news 
 reached the composer shortly after he had 
 achieved one of the greatest successes of his life. 
 
94 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 The performances of his latest opera, "The Mar- 
 riage of Figaro," had been hailed with delight 
 by enthusiastic crowds in Vienna and Prague; 
 its songs were heard at every street corner, and 
 village ale house. "Never was anything more 
 complete than the triumph of Mozart and his 
 'Nozze di Figaro,' " wrote a singer and friend. 
 — "And for Mozart himself, I shall never for- 
 get his face when lighted up with the glowing 
 rays of genius; it is as impossible to describe 
 as to paint sunbeams." 
 
 Despite the success of Figaro, Mozart was 
 still a poor man, and must earn his bread by giv- 
 ing music lessons. Finally the Emperor, hoping 
 to keep him in Germany, appointed him Cham- 
 ber-composer at a salary of about eighty pounds 
 a year. It must have seemed to Mozart and his 
 friends a beggarly sum for the value his Majesty 
 p4*ofessed to set upon the composer's services to 
 art. "Too much for the httle I am asked to 
 produce, too little for what I could produce," 
 were the bitter words he penned on the official 
 return stating the amount of his salary. 
 
 Mozart was inclined to be somewhat extrava- 
 gant in dress and household expenditure, also 
 very generous to any one who needed assistance. 
 These trials, added to the fact that his wife was 
 frequently in ill health, and not very economical, 
 served to keep the family in continual straits. 
 
Wolfgang Mozart 95 
 
 Occasionally they were even without fire or food, 
 though friends always assisted such dire distress. 
 Mozart's father had declared procrastination 
 was his son's besetting sin. Yet the son was a 
 tireless worker, never idle. In September, 1787, 
 he was at Prague, writing the score of his greatest 
 opera, "Don Giovanni"; the time was short, as 
 the work was to be produced October 29. On 
 the evening of the 28th it was found he had not 
 yet written the overture. It only had to be writ- 
 ten down, for this wonderful genius had the music 
 quite complete in his head. He set to work, while 
 his wife read fairy tales aloud to keep him awake, 
 and gave him strong punch at intervals. By 
 seven o'clock next morning the score was ready 
 for the copyist. It was played in the evening 
 without rehearsal, with the ink scarcely dry on 
 the paper. 
 
 Even the successes of "Don Giovanni," which 
 was received with thunders of applause, failed to 
 remedy his desperate financial straits. Shortly 
 after this his pupil and patron. Prince Karl 
 Lichnowsky, proposed he should accompany him 
 to Berlin. Mozart gladly consented, hoping for 
 some betterment to his fortunes. The King of 
 Prussia received him with honor and respect 
 and offered him the post of Capellmeister, at a 
 salary equal to about three thousand dollars. 
 This simi would have liberated him from all his 
 
96 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 financial embarrassments, and he was strongly 
 tempted to accept. But loyalty to his good Em- 
 peror Josef caused him to decline the offer. 
 
 The month of July, 1791, found Mozart at 
 home in Vienna at work on a magic opera to 
 help his friend Salieri, who had taken a little 
 theater in the suburb of Wieden. One day he 
 was visited by a stranger, a tall man, who said 
 he came to commission Mozart to compose a 
 Requiem. He would neither give his own 
 name nor that of the person who had sent him. 
 
 Mozart was somewhat depressed by this 
 mysterious commission; however he set to work 
 on the Requiem at once. The composing of 
 both this and the fairy opera was suddenly in- 
 terrupted by a pressing request that he would 
 write an opera for the coronation of Leopold 
 II at Prague. The ceremony was fixed for Sep- 
 tember 6, so no time was to be lost. Mozart set 
 out at once for Prague. The travehng carriage 
 was at the door. As he was about to enter it, 
 the mysterious stranger suddenly appeared and 
 enquired for the Requiem. The composer could 
 only promise to finish on his return, when hastily 
 entering his carriage, he drove away. 
 
 The new opera, "La Clemenza di Tito," was 
 finished in time and performed, but was received 
 somewhat indifferently. Mozart returned to 
 Vienna with spirits depressed and body exhausted 
 by overwork. However, he braced himself anew. 
 
Wolfgang Mozart 97 
 
 and on September 30th, the new fairy opera, 
 the "Magic Flute," was produced, and its suc- 
 cess increased with each performance. 
 
 The Requiem was not yet finished and to this 
 work Mozart now turned. But the strain and 
 excitement he had undergone for the past few 
 months had done their work : a succession of faint- 
 ing spells overcame him, and the marvelous 
 powers which had always been his seemed no 
 longer at his comLmand. He feared he would not 
 live to complete the work. "It is for myself I 
 am writing the Requiem," he said sadly to Con- 
 stanza, one day. 
 
 On the evening of December 4, friends who had 
 gathered at his bedside, handed him, at his desire, 
 the score of the Requiem, and, propped up by 
 pillows he tried to sing one of the passages. The 
 effort was too great; the manuscript slipped from 
 his nerveless hand and he f eU back speechless with 
 emotion. A few hom"s later, on the morning of 
 December 5, 1791, this great master of whom it 
 was prophesied that he would cause all others to 
 be forgotten, passed from the scene of his many 
 struggles and greater triumphs. 
 
VII 
 
 LUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN 
 
 The Shakespeare of the realm of music, as he 
 has been called, first saw the light on December 
 16, 1770, in the little University town of Bonn, 
 on the Rhine. His father, Johann Beethoven, 
 belonged to the court band of the Elector of Co- 
 logne. The family were extremely poor. The 
 little room, where the future great master was 
 born, was so low, that a good-sized man could 
 barely stand upright in it. Very small it was 
 too, and not very light either, as it was at the 
 back of the building and looked out on a walled 
 garden. 
 
 The fame of young Mozart, who was ac- 
 claimed everywhere as a marvelous prodigy, had 
 naturally reached the father's ears. He decided^ 
 to train the little Ludwig as a pianist, so that he 
 should also be hailed as a prodigy and win fame 
 and best of all money for the poverty-stricken 
 family. So the tiny child was made to practice 
 scales and finger exercises for hours together. 
 He was a musically gifted child, but how he hated 
 those everlasting tasks of finger technic, when he 
 
 98 
 
Ludwig van Beethoven 99 
 
 longed to join his little companions, who could 
 run and play in the sunshine. If he stopped his 
 practice to rest and dream a bit, the stern face 
 of his father would appear at the doorway, and 
 a harsh voice would call out, "Ludwig! what are 
 you doing? Go on with your exercises at once. 
 There will be no soup for you till they are fin- 
 ished." 
 
 The father, though harsh and stern, wished his 
 boy to have as thorough a knowledge of music 
 as his means would permit. The boy was also 
 sent to the public school, where he picked up read- 
 ing and writing, but did not make friends very 
 quickly with the other children. The fact was the 
 child seemed wholly absorbed in music; of music 
 he dreamed constantly; in the companionship of 
 music he never could be lonely. 
 
 When Ludwig was nine his father, regarding 
 him with satisfaction and some pride, declared he 
 could teach him no more — and another master 
 must be found. Those childhood years of hard 
 toil had resulted in remarkable progress, even 
 with the sort of teaching he had received. The 
 circumstances of the family had not improved, 
 for poverty had become acute, as the father be- 
 came more and more addicted to drink. Just 
 at this time, a new lodger appeared, who was 
 something of a musician, and arranged to teach 
 the boy in part payment for his room. Ludwig 
 wondered if he would turn out to be a more se- 
 
100 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 vere taskmaster than his father had been. The 
 times and seasons when his instruction was given 
 were at least unusual. Tobias PfeifPer, as the 
 new lodger was called, soon discovered that father 
 Beethoven generally spent his evenings at the tav- 
 ern. As an act of kindness, to keep his drunken 
 landlord out of the way of the police, Tobias used 
 to go to the tavern late at night and bring him 
 safely home. Then he would go to the bedside 
 of the .sleeping boy, and awake him by telling him 
 it was time for practice. The two would go to 
 the living room, where they would play together 
 for several hours, improvising on original themes 
 and playing duets. This went on for about a 
 year ; meanwhile Ludwig studied Latin, French, 
 Italian and logic. He also had organ lessons. 
 
 Things were going from bad to worse in the 
 Beethoven home, and in the hope of bettering 
 these unhappy conditions, Frau Beethoven 
 undertook a trip through Holland with her boy, 
 hoping that his playing in the homes of the 
 wealthy might produce some money. The tour 
 was successful in that it relieved the pressing 
 necessities of the moment, but the sturdy, inde- 
 pendent spirit of the boy showed itself even then. 
 "The Dutch are very stingy, and I shall take 
 care not to trouble them again," he remarked to 
 a friend. 
 
 The boy Ludwig could play the organ fairly 
 well, as he had studied it with Christian ISTeefe, 
 
L/udwig van Beethoven 101 
 
 who was organist at the Court church. He also 
 could play the piano with force and finish, read 
 well at sight and knew nearly the whole of 
 Bach's "Well Tempered Clavichord." This was 
 a pretty good record for a hoy of 11, who, if he 
 went on as he had hegun, it was said, would be- 
 come a second Mozart. 
 
 Neefe was ordered to proceed with the Elector 
 and Court to Miinster, which meant to leave his 
 organ in Bonn for a time. Before starting he 
 called Ludwig to him and told him of his in- 
 tended absence. "I must have an assistant to 
 take my place at the organ here. Whom do you 
 think I should appoint?" Seeing the boy had no 
 inkling of his meaning, he continued: "I have 
 thought of an assistant, one I am sure I can 
 trust, — and that is you, Ludwig." 
 
 The honor was great, for a boy of eleven and a 
 half. To conduct the service, and receive the 
 respect and deference due the position, quite 
 overwhelmed the lad. Honors of this kind were 
 very pleasant, but, alas, there was no money at- 
 tached to the position, and this was what the 
 straitened family needed most sorely. The 
 responsibilities of the position and the confidence 
 of Neefe spurred Ludwig on to a passion of 
 work which nothing could check. He began to 
 compose; three sonatas for the pianoforte were 
 written about this time. Before completing his 
 thirteenth year, Ludwig obtained his first offi- 
 
102 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 ' - 
 
 cial appointment from the Elector; he became 
 what is called cembalist in the orchestra, which 
 meant that he had to play the piano in the or- 
 chestra, and conduct the band at rehearsals. 
 With this appointment there was no salary at- 
 tached either, and it was not until a year later 
 when he was made second organist to the Court, 
 under the new Elector, Max Franz, that he be- 
 gan to receive a small salary, equal to about six- 
 ty-five dollars a year. We have seen that the 
 straits of the family had not prevented Lud- 
 wig from pursuing his musical studies with great 
 ardor. With his present attainments and his 
 ambition for higher achievements, he longed to 
 leave the little town of Bonn, and see something 
 of the great world. Vienna was the center of 
 the musical life of Germany; the boy dreamed 
 of this magical city by day as he went about his 
 routine of work, and by night as he lay on his 
 poor narrow cot. Like Haydn, Vienna was the 
 goal of his ambition. When a kind friend, 
 knowing his great longing, came forward with 
 an oflPer to pay the expenses of the journey ^ the 
 lad knew his dream was to become a reality. In 
 Vienna he would see the first composers of the 
 day; best of all he would see and meet the divine 
 Mozart, the greatest of them all. 
 
 Ludwig, now seventeen, set out for the city of 
 his dreams with the brightest anticipations. On 
 his arrival in Vienna he went at once to Mo- 
 
Lvdwig van Beethoven 103 
 
 zart's house. He was received most kindly and 
 asked to play, but Mozart seemed preoccupied 
 and paid but little attention. Ludwig, seeing 
 this stopped playing and asked for a theme on 
 which to improvise. Mozart gave a simple 
 theme, and Beethoven, taking the slender thread, 
 worked it up with so much feeling and power, 
 that Mozart, who was now all attention and as- 
 tonishment, stepped into the next room, where 
 some friends were waiting for him, and said, 
 "Pay attention to this young man; he will make 
 a noise in the world some day." 
 
 Shortly after his return home he was sad- 
 dened by the loss of his good, kind, patient 
 mother, and a few months later his little sister 
 Margaretha passed away. No doubt these sor- 
 rows were expressed in some of his most beauti- 
 ful compositions. But brighter days followed 
 the dark ones. He became acquainted with the 
 Breuning family, a widow lady and four chil- 
 dren, three boys and a girl, all young people. 
 The yoimgest boy and the girl became his pupils, 
 and all were very fond of him. He would stay 
 at their house for days at a time and was always 
 treated as one of the family. They were cul- 
 tured people, and in their society Beethoven's 
 whole nature expanded. He began to take an 
 interest in the literature of his own country and 
 in English authors as well. All his spare time 
 was given to reading and composition. A valu- 
 
104 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 able acquaintance with the young Count Von 
 Waldstein was made about this time. The 
 Count called one day and found the composer at 
 his old worn out piano, surrounded by signs of 
 abject poverty. It went to his heart to see that 
 the young man, whose music he so greatly ad- 
 mired should have to struggle for the bare ne- 
 cessities of life while he himself enjoyed every 
 luxury. It seemed to him terribly unjust. He 
 feared to offend the composer's self-respect by 
 sending him money, but shortly after the call 
 Beethoven was made happy by the gift of a fine 
 new piano, in place of his old one. He was very 
 grateful for this friendship and later dedicated 
 to the Count one of his finest sonatas, the Op. 53, 
 known as the "Waldstein Sonata." 
 
 With a view of aiding the growth of the opera, 
 and operatic art, the Elector f oimded a national 
 theater, and Beethoven was appointed viola 
 player in the orchestra besides stiU being assis- 
 tant organist in the chapel. In July, 1792, the 
 band arranged a reception for Haydn, who was 
 to pass through Bonn on his way from London, 
 where he had had a wonderful success, to his 
 home in Vienna. Beethoven seized the oppor- 
 tunity to show the master a cantata he had just 
 composed. Haydn praised the work and 
 greatly encouraged the young musician to go 
 forward in his studies. The Elector, hearing of 
 Haydn's words of praise, felt that Beethoven 
 
iMdrnp van Beethoven 105 
 
 should have the chance to develop his talents that 
 he might be able to produce greater works. 
 Therefore he decided to send the young com- 
 poser, at his own expense, to study strict coun- 
 terpoint with Haydn, He was now twenty-two 
 and his compositions already published had 
 brought him considerable fame and appreciation 
 in his vicinity. Now he was to have wider scope 
 for his gifts. 
 
 He bade farewell to Bonn in November of 
 this year and set out a second time for the city 
 of his dreams — ^Vienna. He was never to see 
 Bonn again. He arrived in Vienna compara- 
 tively unknown, but his fine piano playing and 
 wonderful gift for improvising greatly im- 
 pressed all who heard him. He constantly 
 played in the homes of the wealthy aristocracy. 
 Many who heard him play, engaged lessons and 
 he was well on the road to social success. Ytet 
 his brusque manners often antagonized his pa- 
 trons. He made no effort to please or conciliate ; 
 he was obstinate and self-wiUed. In spite of 
 all this, the innate nobleness and truth of his 
 character retained the regard of men and women 
 belonging to the highest ranks of society. With 
 the Prince and Princess Lichnowsky Beethoven 
 shortly became very intimate, and was invited 
 to stay at the ^Palace. The Princess looked 
 after his personal comfort with as motherly an 
 affection as Madame Breiming had done. The 
 
106 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 etiquette of the Palace however, offended Lud- 
 wig's love of Bohemianism, especially the dress- 
 ing for dinner at a certain time. He took to 
 dining at a tavern quite frequently, and finally 
 engaged lodgings. The Prince and his good 
 lady, far from taking offense at this unmannerly 
 behavior, forgave it and always kept for Bee- 
 thoven a warm place in their hearts, while he, 
 on his part was sincere in his affection for his 
 kind friends. 
 
 Beethoven began his lessons with Haydn, but 
 they did not seem to get on well together. The 
 pupil thought the master did not give him 
 enough time and attention. Wlien Haydn 
 went to England, albout a year after the lessons 
 began, Beethoven studied with several of the 
 best musicians of the city, both in playing and 
 composition. Albrechtsberger, one of these, 
 was a famous contrapimtist of his time, and the 
 student gained much from his teaching. The 
 young musician was irresistible when he seated 
 himself at the piano to extemporize. "His itn- 
 provisating was most brilliant and striking," 
 wrote Carl Czerny, a pupil of Beethoven. "In 
 whatever company he might be, he knew how 
 to produce such an effect upon the listeners that 
 frequently all eyes would be wet, and some 
 listeners would sob; there was something won- 
 derful in his expressive style, the beauty and 
 originality of his ideas and his spirited way of 
 
Ludtvig van Beethoven 107 
 
 playing." Strange to say the emotion he roused 
 in his hearers seemed to find no response in 
 Beethoven himself. He would sometimes laugh 
 at it, at other times he would resent it, saying, 
 "We artists don't want tears, we want ap- 
 plause." These expressions however only con- 
 cealed his inner feelings — for he was very 
 sympathetic with those friends he loved. His 
 anger, though sharp, was of short duration, but 
 his suspicions of those whose confidence he had 
 won by his genius and force of character, were 
 the cause of much suffering to himself and 
 others. 
 
 Beethoven in appearance was short and 
 stockily built ; his face was not at all good look- 
 ing. It is said he was generally meanly dressed 
 and was homely, but full of nobUity, fine feeling 
 and highly cultivated. The eyes were black and 
 bright, and they dilated, when the composer was 
 lost in thought, in a way that made him look in- 
 spired. A mass of dark hair sm-mounted a high 
 broad forehead. He often looked gloomy, but 
 when he smiled it was with a radiant brightness. 
 His hands were strong and the fingers short and 
 pressed out with much practise. He was very 
 particular about hand position when playing. 
 As a conductor he made many movements, and 
 is said to have crouched below the desk in soft 
 passages; in crescendos he would gradually lift 
 himself up until at the loudest parts he would 
 
108 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 rise to his full height with arms extended, even 
 springing into the air, as though he would float 
 in space. 
 
 Beethoven as a teacher, showed none of the 
 impatience and carelessness that were seen in 
 his personal habits. He insisted on a pupil re- 
 peating the passage carefully a number of times, 
 until it could be played to his satisfaction. He 
 did not seem to mind a few wrong notes, but the 
 pupil must not fail to grasp the meaning or put 
 in the right expression, or his anger would be 
 aroused. The first was an accident, the other 
 would be a lack of knowledge of feeling. 
 
 Beethoven loved nature as much or more than 
 any musician ever did. How he hailed the 
 spring because he knew the time would soon 
 come when he could close the door of his lodg- 
 ings in the hot city, and slip away to some quiet 
 spot and hold sweet communion with nature. 
 A forest was a paradise, where he could ramble 
 among the trees and dream. Or he would select 
 a tree where a forking branch would form a seat 
 near the ground. He would climb up and sit in 
 it for hours, lost in thought. Leaning against 
 the trunk of a lime tree, his eyes fixed upon the 
 network of leaves and branches above him, he 
 sketched the plan of his oratorio "The Mount of 
 Olives"; also that of his one opera "Fidelio," and 
 the third Symphony, known as the "Eroica." 
 He wrote to a friend, "No man loves the coim- 
 
iMdwig van BeetJioven 109 
 
 try more than I. Woods, trees and rocks give 
 the response which man requires. Every tree 
 seems to say 'Holy, holy.' " 
 
 Already, as a young man, symptoms of deaf- 
 ness began to appear, and the fear of becoming 
 a victim of this malady made the composer more 
 sensitive than ever. He was not yet thirty when 
 this happened, and believing his life work at an 
 end, he became deeply depressed. Various 
 treatments were tried for increasing deafness; 
 at one time it seemed to be cured by the skill of 
 Dr. Schmidt, to whom out of gratitude he dedi- 
 cated his Septet, arranged as a Trio. By his 
 advice the composer went for the summer of 
 1820 to the little village of Heiligenstadt (which 
 means Holy City) in the hope that the cahn, 
 sweet environment would act as a balm to his 
 troubled mind. During this period of rest and 
 quiet his health improved somewhat, but from 
 now on he had to give up conducting his works, 
 on account of his deafness. 
 
 It may be thought that one so reticent and re- 
 tiring, of such hasty temper and brusque man- 
 ners, would scarcely be attracted to women. 
 But Beethoven, it is said, was very susceptible 
 to the charm of the opposite sex. He was how- 
 ever, most careful and high-souled ia all his re- 
 lations with women. He was frequently in love, 
 but it was usually a Platonic affection. For the 
 Coimtess Julie Guicciardi he protested the most 
 
110 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 passionate love, which was in a measure re- 
 turned. She was doubtless his "immortal be- 
 loved," whose name vibrates through the Adagio 
 of the "Moonlight Sonata," which is dedicated 
 to her. He wrote her the most adoring letters; 
 but the union, which he seemed to desire so in- 
 tensely, was never brought about, though the 
 reason is not known. For Bettina von Arnim, 
 Goethe's little friend, he conceived a tender 
 affection. Another love of his was for the 
 Countess Marie Erdody, to whom he dedicated 
 the two fine Trios, Op. 70, but this was also a 
 purely Platonic affection. The composer was 
 tinfortunate in his attachments, for the objects 
 were always of a much higher social standing 
 than himself. As he constantly associated with 
 people of rank and culture, it was natural that 
 the young girl nobly bom, with all the fascina- 
 tions of the high bred aristocrat, should attract 
 him far more than the ordinary woman of his 
 own class. And thus it happened that several 
 times he staked his chances of happiness on a 
 love he knew could never be consummated. Yet 
 no one needed a kind, helpful, sympathetic wife 
 more than did our poet-musician. She would 
 have soothed his sensitive soul when he suffered 
 from fancied wrongs, shielded him from intru- 
 sion, shared his sorrows and triumphs, and at- 
 tended to his house-keeping arrangements, 
 which were always in a sad state of confusion. 
 
Ludimg van Beethoven 111 
 
 This blissful state was seemingly not for him. 
 It was best for the great genius to devote himself 
 wholly to his divine art, and to create those mas- 
 -terpieces which will always endure. 
 
 In 1804 Beethoven completed one of his 
 greatest symphonies, the "Eroica." He made a 
 sketch, as we have seen, two years before. He 
 had intended it to honor Napoleon, to whose 
 character and career he was greatly attracted. 
 But when Napoleon entered Paris in trivmiph 
 and was proclaimed Emperor, Beethoven's wor- 
 ship was turned to contempt. He seized the 
 symphony, tore the little page to shreds and 
 flung the work to the other end of the room. It 
 was a long time before he would look at the music 
 again, but finally, he consented to publish it 
 under the title by which it is now known. 
 
 When we consider the number and greatness 
 of Beethoven's compositions we stand aghast at 
 the amount of labor he accomplished. "I live 
 only in my music," he wrote, "and no sooner is 
 one thing done than the next is begun. I often 
 work at two or three things at once." Music 
 was his language of expression, and through his ' 
 music we can reach his heart and know the man 
 as he really was. At heart he was a man cap- 
 able of loving deeply and most worthy to be 
 loved. 
 
 Of the composer's two brothers, one had 
 passed away and had left his boy Carl, named 
 
112 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 after himself, as a solemn charge, to be brought 
 up by Uncle Ludwig as his own son. The com- 
 poser took up this task generously and unself- 
 ishly. He was happy to have the little lad near 
 him, one of his own kin to love. But as Carl 
 grew to young manhood he proved to be utterly 
 imworthy of all this affection. He treated his 
 good uncle shamefully, stole money from him, 
 though he had been always generously supphed 
 with it, and became a disgrace to the family. 
 There is no doubt that his nephew's dissolute 
 habits saddened the master's life, estranged him 
 from his friends and hastened his death. 
 
 How simple and modest was this great 
 master, in face of his mighty achievements! 
 He wrote to a friend in 1824: "I feel as if I 
 had scarcely written more than a few notes." 
 These later years had been more than full of 
 work and anxiety. Totally deaf, entirely 
 thrown in upon himself, often weak and ill, the 
 master kept on creating work after work of the 
 highest beauty and grandeur. 
 
 Ludwig van Beethoven passed from this plane 
 March 26, 1827, having recently completed his 
 fifty-sixth year, and was laid to rest in the Wah- 
 ring Cemetery near Vienna. Unlike Mozart, 
 he was buried with much honor. Twenty 
 thousand people followed him to his grave. 
 Among them was Schubert, who had visited him 
 on his deathbed, and was one of the torch 
 
LuDvviG VAN Beethoven 
 
&U^t^ 
 
Ludwiff vari Beethoven 113 
 
 bearers. Several of the Master's compositions 
 were sung by a choir of male voices, accompanied 
 by trombones. At the grave Hummel laid three 
 laurel wreaths on the casket. 
 
VIII 
 
 CARL MARIA VON WEBER 
 
 As we have already seen in the life stories of a 
 number of musicians, the career they were to fol- 
 low was often decided by the father, who deter- 
 mined to form them into wonder children, either 
 for monetary gain or for the honor and glory of 
 the family. The subject of this story is an ex- 
 ample of such a preconceived plan. 
 
 Franz Anton von Weber, who was a capable 
 musician himself, had always cherished the de- 
 sire to give a wonder child to the world. In his 
 idea wonder children need not be bom such, they 
 could be made by the proper care and training. 
 He had been a wealthy man, but at the time of 
 oiu" story, was in reduced circumstances, and 
 was traveling about Saxony at the head of a 
 troupe of theatrical folk, called "Weber's Com- 
 pany of Comedians." 
 
 Little Carl Maria Friedrich Ernst, to give 
 his full name, was bom December 18, 1786, at 
 Eutin, a little town in Lower Saxony. He was 
 the first child of a second marriage, and before 
 the baby boy could speak, his career had been 
 
 lU 
 
Carl Maria von Weber 115 
 
 planned; the father had made up his mind to 
 develop his son into an extraordinary musical 
 genius. It is not recorded what his young 
 mother, a delicate girl of seventeen, thought 
 about it; probably her ideas for her baby son did 
 not enter into the father's plan. Mother and 
 child were obliged to follow in the train of the 
 wandering comedians, so baby Carl was brought 
 up amid the properties of stage business. Scen- 
 ery, canvas, paints and stage lights were the 
 materials upon which Carl's imagination was 
 fed. He learned stage language with his 
 earliest breath ; it is no wonder he turned to writ- 
 ing for the stage as to the manner born. 
 
 As a child he was neither robust nor even 
 healthy, which is not surprising, since he was 
 not allowed to run afield with other children, 
 enjoying the sweet air of nature, the flowers, 
 the simshine and blue sky. No, he must stay 
 indoors much of the time and find his playmates 
 among cardboard castles and painted canvas 
 streets. This treatment was not conducive to 
 rosy cheeks and strong, sturdy little legs. 
 Then, before the dehcate child was six years 
 old, a violin was put into his hand, and if his 
 progress on it was thought to be too slow by his 
 impatient father, he was treated to raps and 
 blows by way of incentive to work yet harder. 
 His teachers, too, were continually changing, as 
 the comedians had to travel about from place to 
 
116 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 place. After awhile he was taken in hand by 
 Michael Haydn, a brother of the great Josef. 
 Michael was a famous musician himself and 
 seldom gave lessons to any one. But he was 
 interested in Carl and took charge of his musical 
 education for some time. 
 
 It was not long before Carl Maria's genius 
 began definitely to show itself, for he started to 
 write for the lyric stage. Two comic operas ap- 
 peared, "The Dumb Girl of the Forest," and 
 "Peter SchmoU and his Neighbors." They 
 were both performed, but neither made a hit. 
 
 When Carl was seventeen, the father decided 
 he should go to Vienna, for there he would meet 
 all the great musicians of the time. The boy 
 was at the most impressionable age: he was 
 lively, witty, with pleasant manners and amiable 
 disposition; he soon became a favorite in the 
 highest musical circles. It was a gay life and 
 the inexperienced youth yielded to its allure- 
 ments. In the meantime he did some serious 
 studying imder the famous Abbe Vogler. The 
 following year the Abbe recommended him to 
 the conductorship of the Breslau Opera House. 
 This was a very difficult post for a boy of 
 eighteen, and he encountered much jealousy and 
 opposition from the older musicians, who did not 
 relish finding themselves under the leadership of 
 such a youth. A year served to disgust him with 
 the work and he resigned. During the year he 
 
Carl Maria von Weber 117 
 
 had found time to compose most of his opera 
 "Ruhezahl." 
 
 For the next few years there were many "ups 
 and downs" in Carl's life. From Breslau he 
 went to Carlsruhe, and entered the service of 
 Prince Eugene. For about a year he was a 
 brilliant figure at the Court. Then war clouds 
 gathered and the gay Court life came to an end. 
 Music imder the present conditions could no 
 longer support him, as the whole social state of 
 Germany had altered. The young composer 
 was forced to earn his livelihood in some way, and 
 now became private secretary to Prince Ludwig 
 of Wurtemburg, whose Court was held at Stutt- 
 gart. The gay, dissolute life at the Court was 
 fuU of temptation for our young composer, yet 
 he foimd considerable time for composition; his 
 opera "Sylvana" was the result, besides several 
 smaller things. During the Stuttgart period, his 
 finances became so low, that on one occasion he 
 had to spend several days in prison for debt. 
 Determined to recruit his fortunes, he began 
 traveling to other towns to make known his art. 
 In Mannheim, Darmstadt and Baden, he gave 
 concerts, bringing out in each place some of his 
 newer pieces, and earning enough at each concert 
 to last a few weeks, when another concert would 
 keep the wolf from the door a little longer. 
 
 In 1810, when he was twenty-four, he finished 
 his pretty opera "Abu Hassan," which, on the 
 
118 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 suggestion of his venerable master, Vogler, he 
 dedicated to the Grand Duke. The Duke ac- 
 cepted the dedication with evident pleasure, and 
 sent Carl a purse of gold, in value about two hun- 
 dred dollars. The opera was performed on 
 February 6, 1811, and its reception was very 
 gratifying to the composer. The Grand Duke 
 took one hundred and twenty tickets and the 
 performance netted over two hundred florins 
 clear profit. It was after this that Carl Maria 
 went on a tour of the principal German cities and 
 gave concerts in Munich, Prague, Berlin, Dres- 
 den and other places. He was everywhere 
 welcomed, his talents and charming manners 
 winning friends everywhere. Especially in 
 Prague he found the highest and noblest aristoc- 
 racy ready to bid him welcome. 
 
 Weber paid a visit to Liebich, director of the 
 Prague theater, almost as soon as he arrived in 
 town. The invalid director greeted him warmly. 
 
 "So, you are the Weber! I suppose you want 
 me to buy your operas. One fills an evening, the 
 other doesn't. Very well, I will give fifteen hun- 
 dred florins for the two. Is it a bargain?" 
 Weber accepted, and promised to return the 
 next spring to conduct the operas. He kept his 
 promise, and the result was much better than 
 he ever dreamed. For beyond the performance 
 of his operas, he was offered the post of music 
 director of the Prague theater, which post was 
 
Carl Maria von Weber 119 
 
 just then vacant. The salary was two thousand 
 florins, with a benefit concert at a guaranteed 
 sum of one thousand more, and three months 
 leave of absence every year. This assured sum 
 gave young Weber the chance of paying his debts 
 and starting' afresh, which, he writes "was a de- 
 light to him." 
 
 The composer now threw himself heart and 
 soul into improving the orchestra placed in his 
 charge. Before long he had drilled it to a high 
 state of excellence. Many new operas were put 
 on the stage in quick succession. Thus Weber 
 worked on with great industry for three years. 
 The success he achieved created enemies, and 
 perhaps because of intrigues, envy and Ul feeling 
 which had arisen, he resigned his post in 1816. 
 The three years in Prague had been fruitful in 
 new compositions. Several fine piano sonatas, 
 a set of "National Songs," and the Cantata, 
 "Kampf und Sieg," (Struggle and Victory). 
 This last work soon became known all over 
 Germany and made the gifted young composer 
 very popular. During this period Weber be- 
 came engaged to Caroline Brandt, a charming 
 singer, who created the title role in his opera of 
 "Sylvana." 
 
 Weber had many kind, influential friends in 
 Prague, who admired his zeal and efiiciency as 
 music director. One of them, Count Vitzhum, 
 did all he could to secure Weber for Dresden. 
 
120 Story-Lii'ves of Master Musicians 
 
 On Christmas morning, 1816, he received the ap- 
 pointment. He wrote to Caroline: "Long did 
 I look on Count Vitzhmn's letter without daring 
 to open it. Did it contain joy or sorrow? At 
 length I took courage and broke the seal. It 
 was joy! I am Capellmeister to his Majesty the 
 King of Saxony. I must now rig myself out in 
 true Court style. Perhaps I ought to wear a 
 pigtail to please the Dresdeners. What do you 
 say? I ought at least to have an extra kiss from 
 you for this good news." 
 
 He went to Dresden, and at first looked over 
 the situation. On nearer view the prospect was 
 not as bright as it had appeared at first. There 
 was a rival faction, strongly opposed to his plans 
 for the promotion of German opera. There had 
 never been anything tolerated at Dresden but 
 Italian opera, and there were many talented 
 Italian singers to interpret them. Weber was 
 encouraged by a new national spirit, which he 
 felt would favor German opera, and was deter- 
 mined to conquer at all costs. He finally suc- 
 ceeded, for, as he wrote to a friend, "The Italians 
 have moved heaven, earth and hell also, to 
 swallow up the whole German opera and its pro- 
 moter. But they have found in me a precious 
 tough morsel; I am not easily swallowed." It 
 was the same kind of fight that Handel waged in 
 England, and that Gluck fought against the 
 Piccinists. 
 
Carl Maria von Weber 121 
 
 "Joseph and his Brethren," by Mehul, was the 
 first opera to be taken up by the new conductor. 
 He drilled the orchestra much more carefully 
 than they had been accustomed, and while, in the 
 beginning, some were sulky at the strictness they 
 were subjected to, yet they finally saw the justice 
 of it and at last took pride in doing their work 
 well. "Joseph" was brought out January 30, 
 1817. The King and Court were present, and 
 everything passed off well, indeed remarkably 
 well. His majesty was greatly pleased and did 
 not cough once during the whole performance, 
 as he used to do when things did not go to suit 
 him. 
 
 In spite of Italian opposition which still con- 
 tinued, Weber's efforts to establish German opera 
 kept right on, until at last it became a State insti- 
 tution, and the composer was appointed musical 
 director for life. With this bright prospect in 
 view he was able to wed his beloved Caroline. 
 They were married on November 4. A quota- 
 tion from his diary shows the talented musician 
 had become a serious, earnest man. "May God 
 bless our union, and grant me strength and power 
 to make my beloved Lina as happy and contented 
 as my inmost heart would desire. May His 
 mercy lead me in all things." 
 
 Weber was now entering the most prolific and 
 brilliant period of his life. His music became 
 richer, more noble and beautiful. The happy 
 
122 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 union with Caroline seemed to put new life and 
 energy into him, and as a resvdt his works became 
 quickly known aU over Europe. His mind was 
 literally teeming with original themes, which 
 crowded each other, struggling to be expressed. 
 First there was the "Mass in E flat," a beautiful, 
 original work; then a festal Cantata, "Nature 
 and Love," written to celebrate the Queen 
 of Saxony's birthday. After this the "Jubilee 
 Cantata," composed to celebrate the fiftieth 
 anniversary of the reign of Augustus, of 
 Saxony. The Itahan faction prevented a per- 
 formance of the whole work, and only the 
 Overture was given. When the entire work 
 was heard it made a great sensation. Now came 
 a Jubilee Mass and some piano pieces, among 
 them the charming and famous "Invitation 'to 
 the Dance," with which every one is familiar. 
 While writing all these works, the composer was 
 busy with one of his greatest operas, "Der 
 Freischiitz." On May 8, 1820, a hundred years 
 ago, the score of "Der Freischiitz," was sent to 
 the director of the Berlin theater, and directly 
 put in rehearsal. The rehearsals had not pro- 
 ceeded very far before Weber, the tireless cease- 
 less worker, had finished his important opera, 
 "Preciosa," which was also despatched to Berlin. 
 "Preciosa" was brought out before "Der Frei- 
 schiitz," which was just as it should be, as the 
 public needed to be educated up to the "Frei- 
 
Carl Maria von Weber 123 
 
 schiitz" music. "Preciosa" was founded on a 
 Spanish story, "The Gypsy of Madrid," and 
 Weber has written for it some of his most charm- 
 ing melodies, full of Spanish color, life and 
 vivacity. Nowadays the opera is neglected, but 
 we often hear the overture. It is to be noted 
 that the overtures to each of Weber's operas con- 
 tain the leading themes and melodies of the 
 operas themselves, showing with what skill the 
 artist wrought. When Weber's widow pre- 
 sented the original score of "Der Freischiitz" to 
 the Royal Library in Berlin, it was found there 
 was not a single erasure or correction in the 
 whole work. 
 
 On June 18, 1821, came the first performance 
 of Weber's masterpiece, "Der Freischiitz." The 
 theater was beseiged for hours by eager crowds, 
 and when the doors were at last opened, there was 
 a grand rush to enter. The whole house from pit 
 to galleries was soon filled, and when the com- 
 poser entered the orchestra, there was a roar of 
 applause, which it seemed would never end. As 
 the performance proceeded, the listeners became 
 more charmed and carried away, and at the close 
 there was a wild scene of excitement. The suc- 
 cess had been tremendous, and the frequent 
 repetitions demanded soon filled the treasury of 
 the theater. Everybody was happy, the com- 
 poser most of all. The melodies were played on 
 every piano in Germany and whistled by every 
 
124 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 street urchin. Its fame spread like lightning 
 over Europe, and quickly reached England. In 
 London the whole atmosphere seemed to vibrate 
 with its melodies. In Paris, however, it did not 
 please on first hearing, perhaps because it was so 
 thoroughly German. But somewhat later, 
 when renamed "Robin des Bois," — "Robin of the 
 Forest," — it was performed some three hundred 
 and fifty times before being withdrawn. 
 
 Weber kept ever at work. Two years after 
 the production of "Der Freischiitz" the opera of 
 "Euryanthe" was completed. The libretto was 
 the work of a half demented woman, Helmine 
 von Chezy, but Weber set out to produce the best 
 opera he was capable of, and to this story he has 
 joined some wonderful music. It was his 
 favorite work; he wrote to his beloved wife two 
 hours before the first performance : "I rely on 
 God and my 'Euryanthe.' " The opera was 
 produced at the Karnthnertor Theater, in 
 Vienna, on October 25, 1823. The composer, 
 though weak and ill, made the long journey to 
 the great city, that he might personally introduce 
 his favorite to the Viennese. He wrote his wife 
 after the performance: "Thank God, as I do, 
 beloved wife, for the glorious success of 'Eury- 
 anthe.' Weary as I am, I must stUl say a sweet 
 good night to my beloved Lina, and cry Victory! 
 All the company seemed in a state of ecstasy; 
 
Carl Maria von Weber 125 
 
 singers, chorus, orchestra; — ^all were drunk, as it 
 were, with joy." 
 
 The title role was taken by Henrietta Son- 
 tag, a young girl, still in her teens, though 
 giving high promise of the great things she 
 achieved a few years later. Strange to say, a 
 short time after its first appearance, "Euryanthe" 
 failed to draw. One reason might. have been 
 laid to the poor libretto, another to the rumor, 
 started, it is said, by no less an authority than the 
 great master Beethoven, that the music of the 
 opera was "only a collection of diminished 
 sevenths." 
 
 The composer lost no time in laying his score 
 before Beethoven, who said he should have 
 visited him before, not after the performance. 
 He advised him to do what he himself had done 
 to "Fideho," cut out nearly a third of the score. 
 Weber took this advice, and remade parts of the 
 opera, where he deemed it necessary. 
 
 The strain of the production of "Euryanthe" 
 told severely on the composer's delicate health, 
 and he returned to Dresden in an exhausted 
 state. There was no rest for him here, as official 
 duties were pressing. The malady afflicting his 
 lungs had made rapid progress and he began to 
 fear he should not be long spared to his wife and 
 little ones. 
 
 He shook off the apathy and took up his pen 
 
126 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 once more. His fame was known all over 
 Em-ope and many tempting offers came in from 
 all directions. One of these was from Covent 
 Garden Theater, London, in the summer of 1824, 
 which resulted in a visit to the English capital. 
 Charles Kemble, the director of Covent Garden, 
 desired Weber to write a new opera for produc- 
 tion there. "Oberon" was the subject at last 
 decided upon; it was taken from an old French 
 romance. Weber at once set to work on the 
 music of this fairy opera, and with the exception 
 of the overture, had finished the work in time to 
 bring it to London in 1826. He was iU and 
 suffering at the time he left home, February 7, 
 and it seemed as though he were bidding a final 
 good-by to his wife and little ones. 
 
 Arrived in London, Sir George Smart invited 
 him to take up his residence in his house. Here 
 he had every comfort, a beautiful piano too was 
 placed at his disposal by one of the first makers 
 in London. "No King could be served with 
 greater love and affection in all things," he wrote; 
 "I cannot be sufficiently grateful to heaven for 
 the blessings which surround me." Here he 
 composed the beautiful Overture to "Oberon" 
 which was only completed a few days before the 
 first performance of the opera. 
 
 "Oberon" was given at Covent Garden on 
 April 12. The house was packed from pit to 
 dome, and the success was tremendous. Next 
 
Carl Maria von Weber 127 
 
 morning the composer was in a highly nervous 
 and exhausted state, but felt he must keep his 
 promise to Kemble and conduct the first twelve 
 performances of "Oberon." He was to have a 
 benefit concert, and hoped through this to have a 
 goodly sum to take back to his little family. Sad 
 to relate, on the evening chosen. May 26, a heavy 
 rain fell and the hall was nearly empty. After 
 the concert he was so weak he had to be assisted 
 from the room. The physician ordered post- 
 ponement of the journey home, but he cried con- 
 tinually, "I must go to my own — I must! Let 
 me see them once more and then God's wiU be 
 done." 
 
 The next morning, when they came to call 
 him, all was still in his chamber; he had passed 
 away peacefully in sleep. 
 
 Weber was buried in Lrondon. His last 
 wish — ^to return home, — ^was finally fulfilled. 
 Eighteen years after, his remains were brought 
 to Dresden, and the composer was at last at 
 home. 
 
IX 
 
 FRANZ SCHUBERT 
 
 In the old Lichtenthal quarter of the city of 
 Vienna, in the vicinity of the fortifications, there 
 still stands an old house. It is evidently a public 
 house, for there hangs the sign — "At the Red 
 Crab." Beside this there is a marble tablet 
 fastened above the doorway, which says that 
 Franz Schubert was born in this house. At the 
 right of his name is placed a Ijrre crowned with a 
 star, and at the left a laurel wreath within which 
 is placed the date, January 31, 1797. 
 
 This then was the birthplace of the "most 
 poetical composer who ever lived," as Liszt said 
 of him; the man who created over six hundred 
 songs, eight symphonies, operas, masses, chamber 
 works and much beautiful piano music, and yet 
 only lived to be thirty-one. It is almost imbe- 
 lievable. Let us get a nearer view of this re- 
 markable musician. 
 
 His father kept a school here; there were five 
 children, four boys and a girl to provide for, and 
 as there was nothing to depend on but the school- 
 master's pay, it is easy to see the family was in 
 
 128 
 
Franz Schuhert 129 
 
 poor circumstances, though the wife managed 
 most carefully to make ends meet. They were a 
 very devoted family altogether. Little Franz 
 early showed a decided fondness for music, and 
 tried to pick out bits of tunes of his own by ear 
 on an old dilapidated piano the family possessed. 
 He made friends with a young apprentice who 
 took him sometimes to a piano wareroom in the 
 city, where he was allowed to play his little tunes 
 on a fine piano. 
 
 When Franz was seven he began to have music 
 lessons at home, the father teaching him violin 
 and his big brother Ignaz, the piano. Franz, in 
 his eagerness to learn soon outstripped his home 
 teachers, and told them he could go on alone. It 
 was then decided he should go to the parish choir 
 master, Holzer, to learn piano, violin, organ, 
 singing and thorough bass. Soon Holzer was 
 astonished at the boy's progress. "Whenever ,1 
 begin to teach him anything I find he knows it 
 already; I never had such a pupil before." By 
 the time Franz was eleven, his voice had come 
 out so well that he was given the place of head 
 soprano in the parish church, and played violin 
 solos whenever they occurred in the service. 
 He had even begun at home to compose and write 
 down little piano pieces and songs. The parents 
 considered that this remarkable talent should be 
 cultivated further, if possible, in order that it 
 might assist the slender purse of the family. 
 
130 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 There was a choir school, called the Convict, 
 which trained its boys for the Imperial Chapel. 
 If Franz could prove his ability to enter this 
 school, he would receive free education in return 
 for his services. 
 
 One fine morning in October, 1808, Franz in 
 his homespun grey suit, spectacles shielding his 
 bright, near-sighted eyes, his bushy black hair 
 covered by an old fashioned hat, presented him- 
 self for examination by the Court CapeUmeister 
 and the singing master. The other boys jeered 
 at his odd appearance, but he kept his good 
 humor. When his turn came to sing, after solv- 
 ing all the problems given, his singing of the trial 
 pieces was so astonishing that he was passed in at 
 once, and ordered to put on the imiform of the 
 imperial choristers. 
 
 The boy soon found plenty to fill his time and 
 occupy his mind. There was the school 
 orchestra, in which he was able to take a prom- 
 inent place. There was daily practise, in«#yhich 
 the boys learned the overtures and symphonies 
 of Mozart and Haydn, and even Beethoven. 
 He loved best Mozart's "Symphony in G minor," 
 in which he said he heard angels singing. The 
 leader of the orchestra was attracted to the lad's 
 playing the very first day he entered, for he 
 played with such precision and understanding. 
 One day Franz mustered courage to talk a little 
 to the big conductor, whose name was Spaun, and 
 
Franz Schubert 131 
 
 confessed he had composed quite a good deal 
 already, adding he would like to do it every day, 
 only he could not afford to get the music paper. 
 Spaun received this burst of confidence with sym- 
 pathy, and saw to it that the boy was, in the 
 future, suppHed with the necessary music paper. 
 
 Franz had soon made such progress on the 
 violin, that he began to take the first violin parts 
 and when the conductor was absent he was asked 
 to lead the orchestra. Indeed by his deep ear- 
 nestness and sincerity, as well as ability, the 
 gifted boy had become a power in the school. 
 When he went home to see his people, which could 
 only be on Sundays and holidays, it was a happy 
 reunion for aU. If he brought home a new string 
 quartet, the father would get out his 'cello, Ignaz 
 and Ferdinand would take first and second violins 
 and the young composer the viola. After it had 
 been played through, then all the players dis- 
 cussed it and offered their criticism. Indeed 
 Franz was composing at such an astonishing rate, 
 that it was difficult to keep him supplied with 
 music paper. One of his works of this time was 
 a fantasia for four hands, in twelve movements. 
 Then came a first attempt at song writing, a 
 long affair which also contained twelve move- 
 ments, and was in melancholy mood. 
 
 Five years the boy Franz Schubert remained 
 at the Convict School and as he had decided to 
 give himself entirely to music, there was no rea- 
 
132 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 son for his remaining longer in the school. At 
 the end of the year 1813, he left, and his depar- 
 ture was celebrated by the composition of his first 
 Symphony, in honor of Dr. Lang, the musical 
 director. The lad, now seventeen, stood at the 
 beginning of his career; he was full of hope and 
 energy, and determined to follow in the foot- 
 steps of the great masters of music. Of aU his 
 compositions so far produced, his songs seemed 
 to be the most spontaneous. He probably did 
 not guess that he was to open up new paths in 
 this field. 
 
 Hardly had he left the school when he was 
 drafted for the army. This meant several years 
 of virtual captivity, for conscription could not be 
 avoided. The only other thing he could do was 
 to return home and become a teacher in his 
 father's school. He chose the lesser evil and 
 qualified at once to become his father's assistant, 
 which would also assure him a certain amount of 
 leisure. We can imagine him installed as teacher 
 of the infant class, and realize how distasteful 
 was the daily roimd of school work, and how he 
 longed to have it over, that he might put on 
 paper all the lovely themes that had come to him 
 through the school day. Other bright spots were 
 the happy hours he spent with the Grob family, 
 who lived also in the district of Lichtenthal. 
 The family consisted of a mother, a son and 
 daughter. They were all musical. Therese 
 
Franz Schubert 133 
 
 Grob had a fine voice and she enjoyed the songs 
 Schubert brought her to sing, while her brother 
 Heinrich could play both piano and 'cello. 
 Many evenings filled with music were passed by 
 the young people. His friends at the Convict 
 too, welcomed each new piece he wrote. Nor 
 did he forget his old master Holzer, the organist 
 of the little church where the composer himself 
 regularly attended. During 1814, Schubert 
 composed his first maes, which was performed 
 October 16. It excited so much interest that it 
 was repeated ten days later at the Augustine 
 church, Franz conducted, the choir was led by 
 Holzer, Ferdinand sat at the organ, and Therese 
 sang the soprano solos. In the audience sat old 
 Salieri, Cotut Capellmeister of Vienna, with 
 whom Beethoven had studied. Salieri praised 
 Schubert for his work, and said that he should 
 become his pupil. He kept his word and gave 
 the yoxmg composer daily lessons for some time. 
 The father was so proud and happy that he 
 bought a five octave piano for his boy, to cel- 
 ebrate the event. 
 
 Schubert added many compositions to his list 
 this year, among them seventeen songs, including 
 "Gretchen at the Spinning Wheel." His ac- 
 quaintance with the poet Johann Mayrhofer, 
 with whom he soon became intimate, was of 
 benefit to both. The poet produced verses that 
 his friend might set to music. The following 
 
134 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 ■■^^^^^■^— ^11 ■ I ■ —^^M^ m a ■[■■■I..I..M ■■■I.. II ■■ ■— ^—^—^^— ^ 
 
 year, 1815, he wrote a hundred and thirty-seven 
 songs, to say nothing of six operas, and much 
 music for church and piano. Twenty-nine of 
 these songs were written in the month of August. 
 One day in August eight songs were created; on 
 another day seven. Some of the songs were quite 
 long, making between twenty and thirty pages 
 when printed. 
 
 A new friend came into Schubert's life the 
 next year. His name was Franz Schober, and 
 he intended entering the University in Vienna. 
 Being a great lover of music and also familiar 
 with some of Schubert's manuscript songs, he 
 lost no time, on arriving in Vienna, in seeking out 
 the composer. He found the young musician at 
 his desk very busily writing. School work was 
 over for the day, and he could compose in peace. 
 The two young men became friends at once, for 
 they felt the sympathetic bond between them. 
 They were soon talking as though they had 
 always known each other. In a few words 
 Schubert told his new friend how he was situated 
 at home, and how he disliked the daily drudgery 
 of school teaching. On hearing of these trials 
 Schober suggested they should make a home to- 
 gether, which arrangement would free the com- 
 poser from the grinding life he was living and 
 enable him to give his whole time to his art. The 
 proposal delighted Franz, and the father 
 willingly gave his consent. And so it came 
 
Tranz Schubert 135 
 
 about that the composer was free at last, and took 
 up his abode at his friend's lodgings. He in- 
 sisted on giving him musical instruction, to make 
 some return for all his kindness, though this did 
 not last long, owing to the dislike Franz always 
 had for teaching of any sort. 
 
 Schubert, at the age of twenty-four, had com- 
 posed a great quantity of music, but none of it 
 had as yet been published. He was almost un- 
 known, and publishers were unwilling to under- 
 take issuing the work of an unknown man. 
 When his songs were performed by good artists, 
 as had been done a number of times, they won 
 instant recognition and success. Seeing that the 
 publishers were unwilhng to print the work of an 
 imknown musician, two of Schubert's friends 
 undertook to publish the "Erlking," one of his 
 first songs, at their own risk. At the Sonn- 
 leithner mansion, where musicals were regularly 
 held, the "Erlking" had been much applauded, 
 and when it was decided to have it published, the 
 decision was announced. A hundred copies 
 were at once subscribed for^ and with this 
 encouragement the engraving of the "Erlking" 
 and "Gretchen at the Spinning Wheel" was 
 forthwith begun. The pieces were sold by the 
 music publishers on commission. The plan suc- 
 ceeded beyond expectation, so that other songs 
 were issued in the same way, imtil, when seven 
 had appeared the publishers were willing to risk 
 
136 Storp-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 the engraving of other songs themselves. Be- 
 fore all this had taken place, Johann Vogl, an 
 admired opera singer in Vienna at the time, had 
 learned Schubert's "Erlking," and had sung it 
 in March, 1821, at a public concert patronized by 
 royalty. The song was received with storms of 
 applause. Schober, who knew the singer, con- 
 stantly talked to him about the gifts of his friend 
 and begged him to come and see Schubert. At 
 last one day he consented. They found the com- 
 poser hard at work as usual, music sheets cover- 
 ing the floor as well as the table and chair. 
 Vogl, used to the highest society, made himself 
 quite at home and did his best to put Schubert 
 at his ease, but the composer remained shy and 
 confused. The singer began looking over some 
 manuscripts. When he left he shook Schubert's 
 hand warmly, remarking; "There is stuflP in you, 
 but you squander your fine thoughts instead of 
 making the most of them." 
 
 Vogl had been much impressed by what he had 
 seen that day, and repeated his visit. Before 
 long the two were close friends. Schubert wrote 
 to his brother: "When Vogl sings and I ac- 
 company him, we seem for the moment to be one." 
 Vogl wrote of Schubert's songs that they were 
 "truly divine inspirations." 
 
 Schubert's residence with his friend Schober 
 only lasted six months, for Schober's brother 
 came to live with him, and the composer had to 
 
Franz ScJiubert 137 
 
 shift for himself. Teaching was exceedingly- 
 distasteful to him, yet as his music did not bring 
 in anything for years after he left home, he had 
 to find some means of making a living. In these 
 straits he accepted a position as music teacher 
 in the family of Count Johann Esterhazy. This 
 meant that he must live with the family in their 
 Vienna home in winter, and go with them to their 
 country seat in the summer. The change from 
 the free life he had enjoyed with his friends who 
 idolized him and his beautiful music, to the 
 etiquette of aristocratic life, was great. But 
 there were many comforts amid his new surroimd- 
 ings ; the family was musical, the duties were not 
 heavy, and so Schubert was not unhappy. 
 
 At the Esterhazy country estate of Zelesz, he 
 heard many Hungarian melodies sung or played 
 by the gipsies, or by servants in the castle. He 
 has employed some of these tunes in his first set 
 of Valses. In his present position he had much 
 leisure for composition. Indeed Franz Schu- 
 bert's whole life was spent in giving out the vast 
 treasures of melody with which he had been so 
 richly endowed. These flowed from his pen in a 
 constant stream, one beautiful work after 
 another. He wrote them down wherever he 
 happened to be and when a scrap of paper could 
 be had. The exquisite song "Hark, Hark the 
 Lark" was jotted down on the back of a bill of 
 fare, in a beer garden. The beautiful works 
 
138 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 which he produced day after day brought him 
 little or no money, perhaps because he was so 
 modest and retiring, modestly imdervaluing 
 eveiything he did. He had no desire to push 
 himself, but wrote because impelled to by the 
 urge within. So little did he sometimes value 
 his work that a fine composition would be tucked 
 away somewhere and quite forgotten. His 
 physical strength was not robust enough to stand 
 the strain of constant composition. Then too, 
 when funds were very low, as they often were, he 
 took poor lodgings, and denied himself the neces- 
 sary nourishing food. If he could have had a 
 dear companion to look after his material needs 
 and share his aims and aspirations, his earthly life 
 might have been prolonged for many a year. 
 With no one to advise him, and often pressed with 
 himger and poverty, he was induced to sell the 
 copyrights of twelve of his best songs, including 
 the "Erlking" and the "Wanderer," for a sum 
 equal to about four hundred dollars. It is said 
 the publishers made on the "Wanderer" alone, 
 up to the year 1861, a sum of about five thousand 
 five hundred dollars. It is true that "every- 
 thing he touched turned to music," as Schumann 
 once said of him. The hours of sleep were more 
 and more curtailed, for he wrote late at night 
 and rose early the next day. It is even said he 
 slept in his spectacles, to save the trouble and 
 time of putting them on in the morning. 
 
Franz Schubert 139 
 
 In Schubert's boyhood, the music of Mozart 
 influenced him most. This is seen in his earlier 
 compositions. Beethoven was a great master to 
 him then, but as time went on the spell of his 
 music always grew stronger. In 1822, he wrote 
 and published a set of variations on a French air, 
 and dedicated them to Beethoven. He greatly 
 desired to present them in person to the master he 
 adored, but was too shy to go alone. Diabelli, 
 the publisher, finally went with him. Beethoven 
 was courteous but formal, pushing paper and 
 pencil toward his guest, as he was totally deaf. 
 Schubert was too shy to write a single word. 
 However he produced his Variations. Bee- 
 thoven seemed pleased with the dedication, and 
 looked through the music. Soon he found some- 
 thing in it he did not approve of and pointed it 
 out. The young author, losing his presence of 
 mind, fled from the house. But Beethoven really 
 liked the music and often played it to his nephew,, 
 
 Five years later, dm-ing his last illness, a, 
 collection of some sixty of Schubert's songs was 
 placed in his hands. He turned them over and 
 over with amazement and delight. "Truly 
 Schubert has the divine fire," he exclaimed. He 
 wanted to see the composer of such beautiful 
 music. Schubert came and was allowed to have 
 a talk with him first, before other friends who 
 were waiting. When Schubert paid another 
 visit to the bedside of the master, it was almost 
 
140 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 the end of his life, though he could recognize aU 
 who stood about him. Overcome with emotion, 
 Schubert left the room. 
 
 A couple of weeks after this Schubert was one 
 of the torch bearers who accompanied the great 
 master to the last resting place. Little did the 
 young man of thirty dream that he would soon 
 follow after. His life at this time was full of 
 disappointments. He had always longed to 
 write for the lyric stage. He composed numer- 
 ous operas; but they were always rejected, for 
 one reason or another. The last, "Fierabras," 
 which was on the point of being produced, was 
 finally given up. The composer became very 
 dejected, and believed himself to be the most un- 
 fortunate, the most miserable being on earth. 
 But, fortunately for Schubert, his cheerfulness 
 again asserted itself and the stream of production 
 resumed its flow. With his temperament, at one 
 moment he would be utterly despairing, the next 
 his troubles would seem to be forgotten, and he 
 would be writing a song, a symphony or a sonata. 
 At aU events, constant work filled his days. 
 The last year of his life was productive of some 
 of his finest works. 
 
 About the end of October, 1828, he began to 
 show signs of a serious breakdown. He was 
 living at the home of his brother Ferdinand, in 
 one of the suburbs of the city. Although he re- 
 vived a little during the early part of November, 
 
tl^pL, cJj^a/iSm)^ 
 
Franz Schubert 141 
 
 so that he could resume walks in the neighbor- 
 hood, the weakness increased, and eleven days 
 passed without food or drink. Lingering tiU 
 the nineteenth of November, he passed peace- 
 fully away, still in his early manhood. The old 
 father, the schoolmaster at the old home, hoped 
 to have his son buried in the little cemetery near 
 by. But Ferdinand knew his brother's wish, to 
 be placed near Beethoven in Wahringer Ceme- 
 tery. The monument, erected by his friends and 
 admirers the following year, bears, above the 
 name, this inscription: 
 
 "Music has here entombed a rich treasure, but much 
 fairer hopes." 
 
X 
 
 FELIX MENDELSSOHN-BARTHOLDY 
 
 Mendelssohn has often been named "Felix 
 the Happy," and he truly deserved the title. 
 Blest with a most cheerful disposition, with the 
 power to make friends of every one he met, and 
 wherever he went, the son of a rich banker, sur- 
 rounded with everything that wealth could give, 
 it was indeed no wonder that Felix Mendelssohn 
 was happy. He did not have to struggle with 
 poverty and privation as most of the other great 
 musicians were forced to do. Their music was 
 often the expression of struggle and sorrow. 
 He had none of these things to bear ; he was care- 
 free and happy, and his music reflects the 
 joyous contentment of his life. 
 
 The Mendelssohn family originally lived in 
 Hamburg. Their house faced one of the fine 
 squares of the city, with a handsome chiu-ch on 
 the opposite side. The building is stiU there and 
 well preserved, although the principal story is 
 used as public dining rooms. A large tablet has 
 been placed above the doorway, with a likeness 
 of the composer encircled by a wreath of laurel. 
 
 142 
 
Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy 143 
 
 Here little Felix was born, February 3, 1809. 
 There were other children, Fanny a year or two 
 older, then after Felix came Rebekka and little 
 Paul. When French soldiers occupied the town 
 in 1811, life became very rmpleasant for the 
 German residents, and whoever could, sought 
 refuge in other cities and towns. Among those 
 who successfully made their escape was the 
 Mendelssohn-Bartholdy family, the second 
 name belonged to the family and was used to dis- 
 tinguish their own from other branches of the 
 Mendelssohn family. With his wife and chil- 
 dren, Abraham Mendelssohn fled to Berlin, and 
 made his home for some years with the grand- 
 mother, who had a house on the Neue Promenade, 
 a fine broad street, with houses only on one side, 
 the opposite side descended in a grassy slope to 
 the canal, which flowed lazily by. 
 
 It was a happy life the children led, amid ideal 
 surroundings. Fehx very early showed a great 
 fondness for music, and everything was done to 
 foster his budding talent. With his sister 
 Fanny, to whom he was devotedly attached, he 
 began to have short music lessons from his mother 
 when he was only four years old. Their prog- 
 ress was so satisfactory, that after a while, pro- 
 fessional musicians were engaged to teach them 
 piano, violin and composition, as a regular part 
 of their education. Besides these, they must 
 study Greek, Latin, drawing and school subjects. 
 
144 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 With so much study to be done each day, it was 
 necessary to begin work at five o'clock in the 
 morning. But in spite of hard work all were 
 happy, and as for Felix nothing could dampen 
 the flow of his high spirits; he enjoyed equally 
 work and play, giving the same earnest attention 
 to each. Both he and Fanny were beginning to 
 compose, and Felix's attempts at improvising 
 upon some comical incident in their play time 
 would call forth peals of laughter from the in- 
 separable children. 
 
 Soon more ambitious attempts at composition 
 were made, the aim being to write little operas. 
 But unless they could be performed, it was use- 
 less to try and make operas. This was a serious 
 difficulty; but Felix was deeply in earnest in 
 whatever he undertook, and decided he must 
 have an orchestra to try out his operatic efforts. 
 It looked like an impossibility, but love and 
 money can accomplish wonders. A small orches- 
 tra was duly selected from among the members 
 of the Court band. The lad Felix was to con- 
 duct these sedate musicians, which he did mod- 
 estly but without embarrassment, standing on a 
 footstool before his men, waving the baton like 
 a little general. Before the first performance 
 was quite ready, Felix felt there must be some 
 one present who could really judge of the merits 
 of his little piece. Who would do so better than 
 his old professor of thorough bass and composi- 
 
Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy 145 
 
 tion, Carl Zelter, the director of the Berlin Sing- 
 akademie. Zelter agreed to accept this delicate 
 office, and a large number of friends were invited 
 for the occasion. 
 
 This was only the beginning of a series of 
 weekly musical evenings at the Mendelssohn 
 home. Felix, with his dark curls, his shining 
 eyes, and charming manners, was the life of any- 
 thing he undertook. He often conducted his 
 little pieces, but did not monopohze the time. 
 Sometimes all four children took part, Fanny 
 at the piano, Rebekka singing, Paul playing the 
 'cello and Felix at the desk. Old Zelter was 
 generally present, and though averse to praising 
 pupils, would often say a few words of encourage- 
 ment at the close. 
 
 Felix was at this time but little more than 
 twelve years old. He had within the last year 
 composed fifty or sixty pieces, including a trio 
 for piano and strings, containing three move- 
 ments, several sonatas for the piano, some songs 
 and a musical comedy in three scenes, for piano 
 and voices. All these were written with the 
 greatest care and precision, and with the date of 
 each neatly added. He collected his pieces into 
 volumes; and the more work he did the more 
 neatly he wrote. 
 
 The boy Felix had a wonderful gift for making 
 friends. One day he suddenly caught sight of 
 Carl Maria von Weber walking along the streets 
 
146 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 of Berlin, near his home. He recognized the 
 famous composer at once, as he had lately visited 
 his parents. The boy's dark eyes glowed with 
 pleasure at the recognition, and tossing back his 
 curls, he sprang forward and threw his arms 
 about Weber's neck, begging him to go home 
 with him. When the astonished musician re- 
 covered himself, he presented £he boy to Jules 
 Benedict, his young friend and pupil who walked 
 at his side, saying, "This is Felix Mendelssohn." 
 For response Felix, with a bright look, seized the 
 young man's hand in both his own. Weber stood 
 by smiling at the boy's enthusiasm. Again Felix 
 besought them to come home with him, but 
 Weber had to attend a rehearsal. "Is it for the 
 opera?" the boy cried excitedly. 
 
 "Yes," answered the com^ser. 
 
 "Does he know all about it?" asked Felix, 
 pointing to Benedict. 
 
 "Indeed he does," answered the composer 
 laughing, "or if he doesn't he ought to for he has 
 been bored enough with it already." The boy's 
 eyes flashed. 
 
 "Then you will come with me to my home, 
 which is quite near, wiU you not?" There was 
 no refusing those appealing dark eyes. Felix 
 again embraced Weber, and then challenged his 
 new friend, Mr. Benedict, to race him to the door 
 of his house. On entering he dragged the visitor 
 upstairs to the drawing-room, exclaiming. 
 
' FeUoD Mendelssohn-Bariholdy 147 
 
 "Mama, Mama, here is a gentleman, a pupil of 
 Carl Weber, who knows all about the new opera, 
 'D'er Freischiitz.' " 
 
 The young musician received a warm welcome, 
 and was not able to leave until he had played on 
 the piano all the airs he could remember from the 
 wonderful new opera, which Weber had come to 
 Berlin to superintend. Benedict was so pleased 
 with his first visit that he came again. This time 
 he found Felix writing music and asked what it 
 was. "I am finishing my new quartet for piano 
 and strings," was the simple reply. To say that 
 Benedict was surprised at such an answer from 
 a boy of twelve hardly expresses what he felt. 
 It was quite true he did not yet know Felix 
 Mendelssohn. "And now," said the boy, laying 
 down his pen, "I wiU play to you, to prove how 
 grateful I am that you played to us last time." 
 He then sat down at the piano and played cor- 
 rectly several melodies from "Der Freischiitz," 
 which Benedict had played on his first visit. 
 After that they went into the garden, and Felix 
 for the moment, became a rolHcking boy, jump- 
 ing fences and climbing trees like a squirrel. 
 
 Toward the close of this year, 1821, his teacher 
 Zelter announced he intended going to Wiemar, 
 to see Goethe, the aged poet of Wiemar, and 
 was willing to take Felix with him. The poet's 
 house at Wiemar was indeed a shrine to the elect, 
 and the chance of meeting the object of so much 
 
148 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 hero worship, filled the impressionable mind of 
 Felix with reverential awe. Zelter on his part, 
 felt a certain pride in bringing his favorite pupU 
 to the notice of the great man, though he would 
 not have permitted Fehx to guess what he felt 
 for anything he possessed. 
 
 When they arrived, Goethe was walking in 
 his garden. He greeted both with kindness 
 and affection, and it was arranged that Fehx 
 should play for him next day. Zelter had 
 told Goethe much about his pupil's unusual tal- 
 ents, but the poet wished to prove these accounts 
 by his own tests. Selecting piece after piece 
 of manuscript music from his collection, he asked 
 the boy to play them at sight. He was able to 
 do so with ease, to the astonishment of the friends 
 who had come in to hear him. They were more 
 delighted when he took a theme from one of the 
 pieces and improvised upon it. Withholding 
 his praise, Goethe announced he had a final test, 
 and placed on the music desk a sheet which 
 seemed covered with mere scratches and blotches. 
 The boy laughingly exclaimed, "Who could ever 
 read such writing as that?" Zelter rose and 
 came to the piano to look at this curiosity. 
 "Why, it is Beethoven's writing; one can see that 
 a mile off! He always wrote as if he used a 
 broomstick for a pen, then wiped his sleeve over 
 the wet ink!" 
 
 The boy picked -out the strange manuscript 
 
Felix Mendelssohn-BartJioldy 149 
 
 bit by bit; when he came to the end he cried, 
 "Now I will play it through for you," which 
 he did without a mistake. Goethe was well 
 pleased and begged Felix to come every day and 
 play, while he was in the city. The two became 
 fast friends; the poet treated him as a son, and 
 at parting begged he would soon return to 
 Wiemar, that they might again be together. 
 During the following summer the whole family 
 made a tour through Switzerland, much to the 
 delight of Felix, who enjoyed every moment. 
 There was little time for real work in composi- 
 tion, but a couple of songs and the beginning 
 of a piano quartet were inspired by the view 
 of Lake Geneva and its exquisite surround- 
 ings. 
 
 When Felix returned to Berlin, he had grown 
 much, physically as well as mentally. He was 
 now tall and strong, his curling locks had been 
 clipped, and he seemed at a single bound to have 
 become almost a man. His happy, boyish 
 spirits, however, had not changed in the least. 
 About this time the family removed from their 
 home on the Neue Promenade, to a larger and 
 more stately mansion, No. 3 Leipsiger Strasse,^ 
 then situated on the outskirts of the town, near 
 the Potsdam Gate. As those who know the 
 modem city realize, this house, now no longer 
 a private residence, stands in the very heart of 
 traffic and business. The rooms of the new 
 
150 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 home were large and elegant, with a spacious 
 salon suitable for musicals and large functions. 
 A fine garden or park belonged to the house, 
 where were lawns shaded by forest trees, wind- 
 ing paths, flowering shrubs and arbors in shady 
 nooks, offering quiet retreats. Best of all there 
 was a garden house, with a central hall, which 
 would hold several hundred people, having long 
 windows and glass doors looking out upon the 
 trees and flowers. Sunday concerts were soon 
 resumed and given in the garden house, where, 
 on week days the young people met, with friends 
 and elders, to play, and act and enjoy the social 
 hfe of the home. The mansion and its hospi- 
 tality became famous, and every great musician, 
 at one time or another, came to pay his respects 
 and become acquainted with this art-loving 
 family. 
 
 At a family party in honor of Felix's fifteenth 
 birthday, his teacher Zelter saluted him as no 
 longer an apprentice, but as an "assistant" and 
 member of the Brotherhood of Art. Very soon 
 after this the young composer completed two 
 important works. The first was an Octet for 
 strings. He was not yet seventeen when the 
 Octet was finished, which was pronounced the 
 most fresh and original work he had yet accom- 
 plished. It marked a distinct stage in the gifted 
 youth's development. The composition which 
 followed was the beautiful "Midsummer Night's 
 
Feliv Mendelssohn-Bartholdy 151 
 
 Dream" music. He and his sister Famiy had 
 lately made the acquaintance of Shakespeare 
 through a German translation, and had been fas- 
 cinated by this fairy play. The young people 
 spent much of their time in the lovely garden 
 that svmimer, and amid these dehghtful sur- 
 roundings the music was conceived. 
 
 The Overture was first to spring into being. 
 When it was written out, Felix and Fanny often 
 played it as a duet. In this form the composer- 
 pianist Moscheles heard it and was impressed 
 by its beauty. The fascinating Scherzo and 
 dreamy Nocturne followed. When all were 
 elaborated and perfected, the complete work was 
 performed by the garden house orchestra for a 
 crowded audience, who abundantly expressed 
 their delight. Sir G. Macfarren has said of it: 
 "No one musical work contains so many points 
 of harmony and orchestration that are novel yet 
 none of them have the air of experiment, but all 
 ceem to have been written with a certainty of 
 iheir success." 
 
 And now a great plan occupied Mendels- 
 sohn's mind, a project which had been forming 
 for some time; this was nothing less than to do 
 something to arouse people to know and appre- 
 ciate the great works of Johann Sebastian Bach, 
 Two years before Felix had been presented with 
 a manuscript score of Bach's "Passion according 
 to St. Matthew," which Zelter had allowed to be 
 
152 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 copied from the manuscript preserved in the 
 Singakademie. The old man was a devoted 
 lover of Bach's music, and had taught his pupil 
 in the same spirit. When Felix foimd himself 
 the possessor of this wonderful book, he set to 
 work to master it, until he knew every bit of it by- 
 heart. As he studied it deeply he was more and 
 more impressed with its beauty and sublimity. 
 He could hardly believe that this great work was 
 unknown throughout Germany, since more than 
 a hundred years had passed since it had been 
 written. He determined to do something to 
 arouse people from such apathy. 
 
 Talking the matter over with musicians and 
 friends, he began to interest them in the plan to 
 study the music of the Passion. Soon he had 
 secured sixteen good voices, who rehearsed at his 
 home once a week. His enthusiasm fired them 
 to study the music seriously, and before very 
 long they were anxious to give a public perform- 
 ance. There was a splendid choir of nearly four 
 hundred voices conducted by Zelter, at the Sing- 
 akademie; if he would only lend his chorus to 
 give a trial performance, under Mendelssohn's 
 conducting, how splendid that would be! But 
 Felix knew that Zelter had no faith in the public 
 taking any interest in Bach, so there was no use 
 asking. This opinion was opposed by one of his 
 little choir, named Devrient, who insisted that 
 Zelter should be approached on the subject. As 
 
Felix MendelssoJm-Bariholdy 153 
 
 he himself had been a pupil of Zelter, he per- 
 suaded Mendelssohn to accompany him to the 
 director's house. 
 
 Zelter was found seated at his instrument, en- 
 veloped by a cloud of smoke from a long 
 stemmed pipe. Devrient unfolded the plan of 
 bringing this great work of Bach to the knowl- 
 edge of the public. The old man listened to 
 their plea with growing impatience, until he be- 
 came quite excited, rose from his chair and paced 
 the floor with great strides, exclaimilig, "No, it 
 is not to be thought of — it is a mad scheme." 
 To Fehx argument then seemed useless and he 
 beckoned his friend to come away, but Devrient 
 refused to move, and kept up his persuasive argu- 
 ment. Finally, as though a miracle had been 
 wrought, Zelter began to weaken, and at last 
 gave in, and besides promised all the aid in his 
 power. 
 
 How this youth, not yet twenty, undertook the 
 great task of preparing this masterpiece, and 
 what he accomplished is little short of the mar- 
 velous. The public performance, conducted by 
 Mendelssohn, took place March 11, 1829, with 
 every ticket sold and more than a thousand 
 persons turned away. A second performance 
 was given on March 21, the anniversary of 
 Bach's birth, before a packed house. These per- 
 formances marked the beginning of a great Bach 
 revival in Germany and England, and the love 
 
154 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 for this music has never been lost, but increases 
 each year. 
 
 And now it seemed best for Felix to travel 
 and see something of other countries. He had 
 long wished to visit England, and the present 
 seemed a favorable time, as his friends there 
 assvired him of a warm welcome. The pleasure 
 he felt on reaching London was increased by 
 the enthusiastic greeting he received at the hands 
 of the musical pubhc. He first appeared at 
 a Philharmonic concert on May 25, when his 
 Symphony in C minor was played. The next 
 day he wrote to Fanny: "The success of the con- 
 cert last night was beyond all I had ever 
 dreamed. It began with my Symphony. I 
 was led to the desk and received an immense 
 applause. The Adagio was encored, but I went 
 on; the Scherzo was so vigorously applauded 
 that I had to repeat it. After the Finale there 
 was lots more applause, while I was thanking 
 the orchestra and shaking hands, till I left the 
 room." 
 
 A continual round of fimctions interspersed 
 with concerts at which he played or conducted, 
 filled the yoimg composer's time. The overture 
 to "Midsummer Night's Dream" was played 
 several times and always received with enthusi- 
 asm. On one occasion a friend was so careless 
 as to leave the manuscript in a hackney coach 
 on his way home and it was lost. "Never mind, 
 
Feliiv Mendelssohn-Bartholdy 155 
 
 I will write another," said Mendelssohn, which 
 he was able to do, without making a single error. 
 
 When the London season closed, Mendelssohn 
 and his friend Klingemann went up to Scotland, 
 where he was deeply impressed with the 
 varied beauty of the scenery. Perhaps the 
 Hebrides enthralled him most, with their lonely 
 grandeur. His impressions have been pre- 
 served in the Overture to "Fingal's Cave," while 
 from the whole trip he gained inspiration for 
 the Scottish Symphony. 
 
 On his return to London and before he could 
 set out for Berlin, Felix injured his knee, which 
 laid him up for several weeks, and prevented 
 his presence at the home marriage of his sister 
 Fanny, to William Hensel, the young painter. 
 This was a keen disappointment to all, but 
 Fanny was not to be separated from her family, 
 as on Mendelssohn's return, he found the young 
 couple had taken up their residence in the Gar- 
 tenhaus. 
 
 Mendelssohn had been greatly pleased with 
 his London visit, and though the grand tour he 
 had planned was really only begun, he felt a 
 strong desire to return to England. However, 
 other countries had to be visited first. The fol- 
 lowing May he started south, bound for Vienna, 
 Florence and Rome. His way led through 
 Wiemar and gave opportunity for a last visit to 
 Goethe. They passed a number of days in sym- 
 
156 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 pathetic companionship. The poet always 
 wanted music, but did not seem to care for Bee- 
 thoven's compositions, which he said did not 
 touch him at all, though he felt they were great, 
 astonishing. 
 
 After visiting numerous German cities, Swit- 
 zerland was reached and its wonderful scenery 
 stirred Mendelssohn's poetic soul to the depths. 
 Yet, though his passionate love of nature was so 
 impressed by the great mountains, forests and 
 waterfalls, it was the sea -which he loved best of 
 all. As he approached Naples, and saw the sea 
 sparkling in the sun lighted bay, he exclaimed: 
 "To me it is the finest object in nature! I love 
 it almost more than the sky. I always feel 
 happy when I see before me the wide expanse of 
 water." Rome, of course, was a center of fas- 
 cination. Every day he picked out some special 
 object of interest to visit, which made that par- 
 ticular day one never to be forgotten. The tour 
 lasted until the spring of 1832, before Mendels- 
 sohn retm-ned to his home in Berlin, only to leave 
 it shortly afterwards to retm-n to London. This 
 great city, in spite of its fogs, noises and turmoil, 
 appealed to him more than the sunshine of 
 Naples, the fascination of Florence or the 
 beauty of Rome. 
 
 The comment on Mendelssohn that "he lived 
 years where others only lived weeks," gives a 
 faint idea of the fulness with which his time 
 
Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy 157 
 
 was occupied. It is only possible to touch on his 
 activities in composition, for he was always at 
 work. In May 1836 when he was twenty-seven, 
 he conducted in Diisseldorf the first perform- 
 ance of his oratorio of "St. Paul." At this 
 period he wrote many of those charming piano 
 pieces which he called "Songs without Words." 
 This same year brought deepest happiness to 
 Mendelssohn, in his engagement to Cecile Jean- 
 Renaud, the beautiful daughter of a French 
 Protestant clergyman. The following spring 
 they were married, a true marriage of love and 
 stedfast devotion. 
 
 The greatest work of Mendelssohn's career 
 was his oratorio of "Elijah" which had long 
 grown in his mind, until it was on the eve of com- 
 pletion in the spring of 1846. In a letter to the 
 famous singer Jenny Lrind, an intimate friend, 
 he writes: "I am jumping about my room for 
 joy. If my work turns out half as good as I 
 fancy it is, how pleased I shall be." 
 
 During these years in which he conceived the 
 "Elijah," his fame had spread widely. Honors 
 had been bestowed on him by many royalties. 
 The King of Saxony had made him Capellmeister 
 of his Court, and Queen Victoria had shown him 
 many proofs of personal regard, which endeared 
 him more than ever to the country which had first 
 signally recognized his genius. 
 
 It was Leipsic perhaps which felt the power of 
 
158 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 his genius most conclusively. The since famous 
 Leipsic Conservatory was founded by him, and 
 he was unceasing in his labors to advance art in 
 every direction. He also found time to carry out 
 a long cherished plan to erect, at the threshold of 
 the Thomas School, Leipsic, a monrmient to the 
 memory of Sebastian Bach. 
 
 Let us take one more glimpse of our beloved 
 composer. It was the morning of August 26, 
 1846. The Town Hall of Birmingham, Eng- 
 land, was j&lled with an expectant throng, for to- 
 day the composer of the "Ehjah" was to conduct 
 his greatest work, for the first time before an 
 English audience. When Mendelssohn stepped 
 upon the platform, he was greeted by a deafen- 
 ing shout; the reception was overwhelming, and 
 at the close the entire audience sprang to its feet 
 in a frenzy of admiration. He wrote to his 
 brother Paul that evening: "No work of mine 
 ever went so admirably at the first performance, 
 or was received with such enthusiasm both by 
 musicians and public." During April the follow- 
 ing year, four performances of the "Elijah" took 
 place in Exeter Hall, the composer conducting, 
 the Queen and Prince Albert being present on the 
 second occasion. This visit to England which 
 was to be his last, had used his strength to the 
 hmit of endurance, and there was a shadow of a 
 coming breakdown. Soon after he rejoined his 
 family in Frankfort, his sister Fanny suddenly 
 
Feliiv Mendelssohn-Bariholdy 159 
 
 passed away in Berlin. The news was broken 
 to him too quickly, and with a shriek he fell un- 
 conscious to the floor. 
 
 From this shock he never seemed to rally, 
 though at intervals for a while, he still com- 
 posed. His death occurred November 4, 1847. 
 It can be said of him that his was a beautiful 
 life, in which "there was nothing to tell that was 
 not honorable to his memory and profitable to 
 all men." 
 
 Mendelssohn's funeral was imposing. The 
 first portion was solemnized at Leipsic, attended 
 by crowds of musicians and students, one of the 
 latter bearing on a cushion a silver crown pre- 
 sented by his pupils of the Conservatory. Be- 
 side the crown rested the Order "Pour le Merite/' 
 conferred on him by the King of Prussia. The 
 band, during the long procession, played the E 
 minor "Song without Words," and at the close of 
 the service the choir sang the final chorus from 
 Bach's "Passion." The same night the body was 
 taken to Berlin and placed in the family plot in 
 the old Dreifaltigkeit Kirch-hof, beside that of 
 his devoted sister Fanny. 
 
XI 
 
 ROBERT SCHUMANN 
 
 Many of the composers whose life stories we 
 have read were surrounded by musical atmos- 
 phere from their earliest years; Robert Schu- 
 mann seems to have been an exception. His 
 father, August Schumann, was the son of a poor 
 pastor, and the boy August was intended to be 
 brought up a merchant. At the age of fifteen 
 he was put into a store in Nonneburg. He was 
 refined in his tastes, loved books, and tried even 
 in boyhood to write poetry. He seemed des- 
 tined, however, to live the life marked out for 
 him, at least for a time. It grew so distasteful, 
 that later he gave it up and, on accoimt of ex- 
 treme poverty, returned to his parents' home, 
 where he had the leisure to write. At last he 
 secured a position in a book store in Zeitz. In 
 this little town he met the daughter of his em- 
 ployer. The engagement was allowed on the 
 condition that he should leave the book store 
 and set up his own business. But where was 
 fthe money to come from? He left the store, re- 
 turned home and in a year and a half had earned 
 
 160 
 
Robert Schumann 161 
 
 a thousand thalers, then quite a handsome sum. 
 
 He now claimed the hand of his chosen love 
 and established in the book business, labored so 
 unceasingly, that the business increased. Then 
 he moved to a more favorable location, choosing 
 the mining town of Zwickau, in Saxony. 
 
 Here, this industrious, honorable man and his 
 attractive, intelligent, but rather narrow and un- 
 educated young wife lived out their lives, and 
 brought up their children, of whom Robert, born 
 June 8, 1810, was the yoimgest; before him there 
 were three brothers and a sister. All passed 
 away before Robert himself. 
 
 He was the so-called "handsome child" of the 
 family, and much petted by the women. Be- 
 sides his mother there was his god-mother, who 
 was very fond of him, and at her home he would 
 spend whole days and nights. As his talents 
 developed, the boy became the spoilt darling of 
 everybody. This lay at the foundation of his 
 extreme susceptibility, even the obstinacy of his 
 riper years. 
 
 Little Robert at six was sent to a popular 
 private school and now for the first time mingled 
 with a number of children of his own age. The 
 first symptoms of ambition, the source of much 
 of his later achievement, began to show itself, 
 though quite unconsciously. It made him the life 
 of all childish games. If the children played 
 "soldiers," little Robert was always captain. 
 
162 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 The others loved his good nature and friendli- 
 ness, and always yielded to him. 
 
 He was a good student in the primary school, 
 but in no way distinguished himself in his stud- 
 ies. The following year he was allowed to take 
 piano lessons of an old pedantic professor from 
 Zwickau High School. This man had taught 
 himself music, but had heard little of it. The 
 kind of instruction he was able to give may be 
 imagined, yet Robert was faithful all his life to 
 this kind old friend. 
 
 In spite of inadequate guidance, music soon 
 kindled the boy's soul. He began to try to make 
 music himself, though entirely ignorant of the 
 rules of composition. The first of these efforts, 
 a set of httle dances, were written during his 
 seventh or eighth year. It was soon discovered 
 that he could improvise on the piano; indeed he 
 could sketch the disposition of his companions 
 by certain figures on the piano, so exactly and 
 comically that every one burst out laughing at 
 the portraits. He was fond of reading too, much 
 to his father's delight, and early tried his hand at 
 authorship. He wrote robber plays, which he 
 staged with the aid of the family and such of his 
 youthful friends as were qualified. The father 
 now began to hope his favorite son would 
 become an author or poet; but later Robert's 
 increasing love for music put this hope to 
 flight. 
 
Robert Schumann 168 
 
 The father happened to take his boy with him 
 to Carlsbad in the summer of 1819, and here he 
 heard for the first time a great pianist, Ignatz 
 Moscheles. His masterful playing made a 
 great impression on the nine year old enthusiast, 
 who began now to wish to become a musician, 
 and applied himself to music with redoubled zeal. 
 He also made such good progress at school that 
 at Easter 1820 he was able to enter the Zwickau 
 Academy. 
 
 The love for music grew with each day. With 
 a boy of his own age, as devoted as himself to 
 music, four-hand works of Haydn, Mozart and 
 Beethoven, as well as pieces by Weber, Hummel 
 and Czerny, were played almost daily. The 
 greatest ecstasy was caused by the arrival of a 
 Steck piano at the Schumann home, which showed 
 that father Schmnann endeavored to further his 
 boy's taste for music. About this time Robert 
 found by chance, the orchestral score of an old 
 Italian overture. He conceived the bold idea 
 of performing it. So a bit of an orchestra was 
 gathered among the boys he knew, who could 
 play an instrument. There were two violins, 
 two flutes, a clarinet and two horns. Robert, 
 who conducted with great fervor, supplied as 
 best he could the other parts on the piano. 
 
 This effort was a great incentive to the boys, 
 principally to Robert, who began to arrange 
 things for his little band and composed music for 
 
164 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 the one hundred fiftieth PsaLn. This was in his 
 twelfth year. 
 
 August Schumann was more and more con- 
 vinced that Providence had intended his son to 
 become a musician, and though the mother strug- 
 gled against it, he resolved to see that Robert had 
 a musical education. Carl Maria von Weber, 
 then living in Dresden, was written to, and an- 
 swered he was willing to accept the boy as a stu- 
 dent. The plan never came to anything how- 
 ever, for what reason is not known. The boy 
 was left now to direct his own musical studies, 
 just when he needed an expert guiding hand. 
 He had no rivals in his native town, where he 
 sometimes appeared as a pianist. It was no 
 wonder he thought he was on the right road, and 
 that he tried more than ever to win his mother's 
 consent to his following music as a life work. 
 
 And now a great change took place in the 
 lively, fun-loving boy. He seemed to lose his 
 gay spirits and become reflective, silent and re- 
 served. This condition of mind never left him, 
 but grew into a deeper reserve as the years 
 passed. 
 
 Two events deeply stirred Robert's nature 
 with great force — ^the death of his father in 1826, 
 and his acquaintance with the works of Jean 
 Paul. The Jean Paul fever attacked him in all 
 its transcendentalism, and this influence re- 
 mained through hfe, with more or less intensity. 
 
Robert Schumann 165 
 
 After his father left him, Robert found he 
 must make a choice of a profession. His 
 mother had set her heart on his making a study of 
 law, while his heart was set on music. Yielding 
 to her wishes for a time he went to Leipsic in 
 March 1828 to prepare to enter the University 
 as a student of law. He also gained consent to 
 study piano at the same time, and began lessons 
 with Frederick Wieck. The desire to study 
 with Wieck was inspired by the piano playing of 
 his little daughter, Clara, then nine years old, 
 who had already gained a considerable degree of 
 musical culture and promised to make her mark 
 as a pianist. 
 
 Under his new teacher, Robert for the first 
 time was obliged to study a rational system of 
 technic and tone production. He was also ex- 
 pected to learn harmony correctly, but strangely 
 enough he seemed to take no interest in it, even 
 saying he thought such knowledge useless. He 
 held to this foolish idea for some time, not giving 
 it up till forced to by realizing his total ignorance 
 of this branch of the art. 
 
 Robert now became greatly impressed by the 
 genius of Franz Schubert. He eagerly played 
 everything the master had composed for the 
 piano, both for two and four hands, and Schu- 
 bert's death during this year, filled him with pro- 
 found grief. The young musical friends with 
 whom Robert had become intimate, while living 
 
166 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 in Leipsic, shared his enthusiasm about his hero 
 of German song, and they desired to enlarge 
 their knowledge of Schubert's work. They did 
 more, for they decided to take one representative 
 composition and practise together till they had 
 reached the highest perfection. The choice fell 
 on the Trio in B flat major, Op. 99, whose 
 beauties had greatly impressed them. After 
 much loving labor the performance was well 
 nigh perfect. Schumann arranged a musical 
 party at which the Trio was played. Besides 
 students and friends, Wieck was invited and 
 given the seat of honor. 
 
 This musical evening was the forerunner of 
 many others. Weekly meetings were held in 
 Robert's room, where much music was played 
 and discussed. The talk often turned to grand 
 old Bach and his "WeU-tempered Clavichord," 
 to which in those early days, he gave ardent 
 study. 
 
 With all this music study and intercourse with 
 musical friends there was very little time left for 
 the study of law. Yet he still kept up appear- 
 ances by attending the lectures, and had intended 
 for some months to enter the Heidelberg 
 University. This decision was put into execu- 
 tion in May 1829, when he started by coach for 
 Heidelberg. 
 
 We find Robert Schimiann at nineteen domi- 
 ciled in the beautiful city of Heidelberg, and 
 
Robert Schumann 167 
 
 surrounded by a few musical friends, who were 
 kindred spirits. With a good piano in his room, 
 the "hfe of flowers," as he called it, began. Al- 
 most daily they made delightful trips in a one- 
 horse carriage into the suburbs. For longer 
 trips they went to Baden-Baden, Wurms, Spires 
 and Mannheim. Whenever Robert went with 
 his friends he always carried a small "dumb 
 piano" on which he industriously practised 
 finger exercises, meanwhile joining in the con- 
 versation. During the following August and 
 September, Robert and two or three chosen com- 
 panions made a dehghtful journey through 
 Italy, the young man preparing himself by 
 studying Latin, in which he became so fluent that 
 he could translate poems from one language to 
 the other. 
 
 The next winter Robert devoted himself to 
 music more than ever — "played the piano 
 much," as he says. His skill as a pianist grad- 
 ually became known in Heidelberg and he fre- 
 quently played in private houses. But he was 
 not content with the regular study of the piano. 
 He wanted to get ahead faster and invented 
 some sort of a device to render his fourth finger 
 more firm and supple. It did not have the 
 desired effect however, but was the means in 
 time of injuring his hands so that he never 
 could attain the piano virtuosity he dreamed of. 
 
 Before starting on the trip to Italy just men- 
 
168 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 tioned, he felt that a decision must be reached 
 about his music. It had become as the breath of 
 life to him. He wrote his mother and laid bare 
 his heart to her. "My whole hfe has been a 
 twenty years struggle between poetry and prose, 
 or let us say — between music and law. If I 
 follow my own bent, it points, as I believe cor- 
 rectly, to music. Write yourself to Wieck at 
 Leipsic and ask him frankly what he thinks of 
 me and my plan. Beg him to answer at once 
 and decisively." The letter was duly written to 
 Wieck, who decided in favor of Robert and his 
 plans, 
 
 Robert on hearing his decision was wild with 
 joy. He wrote an exuberant letter to Wieck 
 promising to be most submissive as a piano pupil 
 and saying "whole pailfuls of very very cold 
 theory can do me no harm and I will work at it 
 without a murmur. I give myself up whoUy to 
 you." 
 
 With a heart full of hope, young Schimaann 
 returned to Leipsic, which he had gladly left 
 more than a year before. It was during this 
 early resumption of piano lessons with Wieck 
 that he began the treatment which he thought 
 would advance his technic in such a marvelously 
 short time. He fastened his third finger into a 
 machine, of his own invention, then practised un- 
 ceasingly with the other fovu*. At last he lost 
 control over the muscles of the right hand, to his 
 
Robert Schumann 169 
 
 great distress. He now practised unremittingly 
 with the left hand, which gained great facility, 
 remarkable long after he had given up piano 
 playing. 
 
 Under these difficulties piano lessons with 
 Wieck had to be given up and were never re- 
 sumed. He studied theory for a short time 
 with Kupach, but soon relinquished this also. 
 He was now free to direct his own path in music 
 and to study — study, and compose. 
 
 One of the first pieces he wrote was "The 
 Papillons" — "Butterflies," — published as Op. 2. 
 It was dedicated to his three sisters-in-law, of all 
 of whom he was very fond. In the various 
 scenes of the Butterflies there are allusions to 
 persons and places known to the composer; the 
 whimsical spirit of Jean Paul broods over the 
 whole. 
 
 Robert began to realize more and more his 
 lack of thorough theoretical knowledge and ap- 
 pUed to Dorn, who stood high in the musical pro- 
 fession in Leipsic. On his introduction, in 
 spite of his lame hand he played his "Abegg Vari- 
 ations," pubhshed as Op. 1, and Dorn was willing 
 to accept the timid quiet youth as pupil. He 
 studied with great ardor, going from the A. B. C. 
 to the most involved counterpoint. 
 
 Thus passed two or three busy years. Part 
 of the time Schumann had a room in the house of 
 his teacher Wieck and thus was thrown more or 
 
170 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 less in the society of Clara Wieck, now a young 
 girl of thirteen or fourteen. Later he gave up 
 his room — ^though not his intimate relations with 
 the family — and moved to a summer residence in 
 Riedel's Garden, where he spent the days in 
 music and the evenings with his friends. 
 
 The year 1833, was one of the most remarkable 
 in his life so far. Not the least important event 
 was the establishment of the "Neue Zeitschrift 
 ftir Musik." Schumann himself says of this: — 
 
 "At the close of the year '33, a nimiber of 
 musicians, mostly young, met in Leipsic every 
 evening, apparently by accident at first, but 
 really for the interchange of ideas on all musical 
 subjects. One day the young hot heads ex- 
 claimed: 'Why do we look idly on? Let's take 
 hold and make things better.' Thus the new 
 Journal for music began. 
 
 "The youthful, fresh and fiery tone of the 
 Journal is to be in sharp contrast to the char- 
 acterless, worn-out Leipsic criticism. The ele- 
 vation of German taste, the encouragement of 
 yoimg talent must be our goal. We write not to 
 enrich tradespeople, but to honor artists." 
 
 Schumann took up arms in favor of the 
 younger generation of musicians and helped make 
 the fame of many now held in the world's highest 
 esteem. Sometimes, he admits, his ardor 
 carried him too far in recognition of youthful 
 talent, but in the main he was very just in his 
 
Robert Schumann 171 
 
 estimates. We do not forget how his quick com- 
 mendation aided Brahms. 
 
 The young musicians who foimded the paper 
 had formed themselves also into an alliance, 
 which they called the Davidshiindlerschaft. 
 The idea of this alliance, which was derived from 
 David's war with the Philistines, seemed to exist 
 only in the mind of Schumann himself. It gave 
 him a chance to write under the name of different 
 characters, chief of whom were Florestan and 
 Eusebius, between whom stood Master Raro. 
 In Florestan Schimiann expressed the powerful, 
 passionate side of his nature, and in Eusebius the 
 mild and dreamy side. 
 
 He wrote to a friend : "Florestan and Eusebius 
 are my double nature, which I would gladly — 
 like Raro — ^melt down into one man." As time 
 passed however, he made less and less use of 
 these fanciful images until they finally seemed 
 to fade out of his mind. 
 
 An important event of 1834, was Schumann's 
 acquaintance with Ernestine von Fricken, who 
 came to Leipsic from the little town of Asch, on 
 the Bohemian border. She lived at the Wiecks', 
 expecting to become a pianist imder Papa 
 Wieck's tuition. Schumann became greatly in- 
 terested in Ernestine and for some time he had 
 in mind an engagement with her. The noble 
 "itudes Symphoniques" were written this 
 year. The theme was suggested by Ernestine's 
 
172 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 father. The "Carnival" was partly written in 
 this year, but not completed tiU the following 
 year. In this collection of charming short pieces 
 he brings in the characters of his dreapas, — 
 Florestan, Eusebius, Chiarina (Clara), Estrella 
 (Ernestine). There is the March against the 
 Philistines, and the titles of many other of the 
 little pieces are characteristic. It is a true 
 Schumann composition, full of his traits. Here 
 we have the sweet, graceful, elegant and the very 
 himiorous and comical finale. 
 
 The tone creations of 1835 consist of the two 
 Sonatas, F sharp minor. Op. 11 and G minor. 
 Op. 22, which are held by pianists to be among 
 his most interesting and poetical works. 
 
 By the next year Schumann had suffered a 
 deep sorrow in the loss of his mother, and also 
 his love for Ernestine began to cool, until the 
 partial bond was amicably dissolved. Mean- 
 while his affection for Clara Wieck, who was 
 just budding into womanhood, began to ripen 
 into devoted love. This, too, was the beginning 
 of the long struggle for the possession of his be- 
 loved, since the father had opposed such a con- 
 nection from beginning to end. Schumann 
 wrote a friend in 1839 : "Truly from the struggle 
 Clara has cost me, much music has been caused 
 and created; the Concerto, Sonatas, Davids- 
 biindler Dances, Kreisleriana and Kovellettes 
 are the result." Beyond the compositions just 
 
Robert Schumann 173 
 
 mentioned, he relieved his oppressed heart by a 
 composition rich in meaning — nothing less than 
 the great Fantaisie, Op. 17. He meant to con- 
 tribute the profits from its sale to the fund for 
 the erection of a monument to Beethoven. The 
 titles to the three movements were "Ruins," 
 "Triumphal Arch," "Starry Crown." He 
 afterwards gave up the whole idea, and dedi- 
 cated the work to Franz Liszt. 
 
 Schumann lived a quiet, busy life, and if he 
 could have gained the consent of Clara's father 
 for their union, he would have been supremely 
 happy. He feared the principal reason of 
 Wieck's refusal was that the young man should 
 earn more money first, before thinking of 
 settling down with a wife. Robert therefore re- 
 verted more seriously to a plan he had thought 
 of, to go to Vienna, and move his paper to that 
 city, hoping to better his fortunes. He felt, too, 
 that he ought to travel, as he had remained in 
 Leipsic for eight years without change. 
 
 Thus, by the end of September, 1838, Schu- 
 mann started for Vienna with many high hopes. 
 A friend invited him to remain at his house, 
 which was of much advantage. He made many 
 calls and visits, saw musicians and publishers, 
 and really learned to know the city for itself. 
 He found it would not be profitable for him to 
 publish the Journal there, also that the Austrian 
 capital was a no more propitious place to make 
 
174 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 one's fortune than the smaller town of Leipsic. 
 However he w#as able to compose a number of 
 works which have become among the best known 
 and beloved of all, including the "Arabesque," 
 "Faschingsschwank," or "Carnival Strains from 
 "Vienna," the "Night Pieces," Op. 24, and other 
 short compositions. 
 
 When Robert discovered Vienna was not the 
 city to prosper in, he thought of a return to 
 Leipsic, to win his bride. He came back in 
 April, and succeeded, with the help of legal pro- 
 ceedings, in securing Clara's hand in marriage. 
 This was in 1840. From now on Schumann 
 began to write songs. In this one year he com- 
 posed as many as a hundred and thirty-eight 
 songs, both large and small. He writes at this 
 time: "The best way to cultivate a taste for 
 melody, is to write a great deal for the voice and 
 for independent chorus." 
 
 He now began to express himself not only in 
 song but in orchestral music. His first effort 
 was the beautiful B flat major Symphony, which, 
 with the songs of that time seems to embody all 
 the happiness he enjoyed in winning his Clara. 
 She proved a most admirable helpmate, trying to 
 shield him from interruptions and annoyance of 
 every sort, so he should have his time undis- 
 turbed for his work. Thus many of his best 
 compositions came into being in the early years 
 of wedded happiness. 
 
Robert Schumann 175 
 
 This retirement was interrupted in 1844, by a 
 long concert tour planned by Clara. She was 
 firmly decided to go and made Robert solemnly 
 promise to -accompany her to St. Petersburg. 
 He was loath to leave the quiet he loved, but it 
 had to be done. Clara had great success every- 
 where, as a pianist, giving many recitals during 
 their travels from place to place. From Russia 
 the artist pair went to Helsingfors, Stockholm 
 and Copenhagen, They started on their tour 
 in January and did not reach home till the first 
 of June. 
 
 Schumann now seemed to lose interest in the 
 Journal and expressed a wish to withdraw from 
 it and live only for his creative art. An alarm- 
 ing state of health — both mind and body — seemed 
 to make this retirement desirable. Perhaps 
 owing to this condition of health he decided to 
 leave Leipsic for good and make his home in 
 Dresden. He and his wife took formal leave of 
 Leipsic in a Matinee musical given on the eighth 
 of December. 
 
 But life in Dresden became even more 
 strenuous and more racking than it had been in 
 Leipsic. He threw himself into the labor of 
 composing the epilogue of Goethe's "Faust" with 
 such ardor that he fell into an intensely nervous 
 state where work was impossible. However, 
 with special medical treatment he so far re- 
 covered that he was able to resume the work, but 
 
176 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 still was not himself. We can divine from brief 
 remarks he let drop from time to time, that he 
 lived in constant fear — fear of death, insanity or 
 disaster of some kind. He could not bear the 
 sight of Sonnenstein, an insane asylum near 
 Dresden. Mendelssohn's sudden death in 
 November, 1847, was a great shock and preyed 
 on his mind. 
 
 Schumann had intervals of reprieve from these 
 morbid dreams, and he again began to compose 
 with renewed — almost abnormal — ^vigor and pro- 
 ductiveness. 
 
 The artist pair took a trip to Vienna where 
 Clara gave several concerts. They spent some 
 weeks there and before returning to Dresden, 
 gave two splendid concerts in Prague, where 
 Schumann received a perfect ovation for his 
 piano quintette and some songs. A little later 
 the two artists made a trip north. In Berlin 
 Robert conducted a performance of "Paradise 
 and the Peri" at the Singakademie, while Clara 
 gave two recitals. 
 
 This year of 1847 was a very active one out- 
 side of the musical journeys. The master com- 
 posed several piano trios, much choral music, and 
 began the opera "Genevieve," which was not 
 completed however, until the middle of 1848. 
 All the compositions of the previous year were 
 perfectly lucid and sane. The opera unfortun- 
 
Robert Schumann 177 
 
 ately had a text from which all the beauty and 
 romance had been left out. 
 
 The music, however, revealed a rare quality of 
 creative power, combined with deep and noble 
 feeling. Schimiann's nature was more lyric than 
 dramatic ; he was not bom to write for the stage. 
 The lyric portions of his opera are much the best. 
 He did not realize that he failed on the dramatic 
 side in his work, indeed seemed quite unconscious 
 of the fact. 
 
 "Genevieve" was given in Leipsic in June 
 1850, directed by the composer. Two more per- 
 formances were given and then the work was 
 laid away. 
 
 In 184r8, Schimiann, who loved children dearly 
 and often stopped his more serious work to write 
 for them, composed the "Album for the Young," 
 Op. 68, a set of forty-two pieces. The title 
 originally was: "Christmas Album for Children 
 who like to play the Piano." How many chil- 
 dren, from that day to this have loved those little 
 pieces, the "Happy Farmer," "Wild Rider," 
 "First Loss," "Reaper's Song," and all the rest. 
 . Even the great pianists of our time are not above 
 performing these little classics in public. They 
 are a gift, unique in musical hterature, often 
 imitated, but never equaled by other writers. 
 Schumann wrote of them: "The first thing in the 
 Album I wrote for my oldest child's birthday. 
 
178 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 It seems as if I were beginning my life as a com- 
 poser anew, and there are traces of the old 
 human here and there. They are decidedly dif- 
 ferent from 'Scenes from Childhood' which are 
 retrospective glances by a parent, and for elders, 
 while 'Album for the Young' contains hopes, 
 presentments and peeps into futurity for the 
 young." 
 
 After the children's Albvim came the music to 
 Byron's "Manfred." This consists of an over- 
 ture and fifteen numbers. The whole work, 
 with one exception, is deep in thought and 
 masterly in conception. The overture especially 
 is one of his finest productions, surpassing other 
 orchestral works in intellectual grandeur. 
 
 A choral club of sixty-seven members, of 
 which Schxmiann was the director, inspired him 
 to compose considerable choral music, and his 
 compositions of this time, 1848-9, were numer- 
 ous. 
 
 The intense creative activity of 1849 was 
 followed by a period of rest when the artist pair 
 made two trips from Dresden, early in 1850. 
 Leipsic, Bremen, and Hamburg were visited. 
 Most of the time in Hamburg was spent with 
 Jenny Lind, who sang at his last two concerts. * 
 
 The late summer of 1850 brought Schiimann 
 an appointment of director of music in Diissel- 
 dorf, left vacant by the departure of Ferdinand 
 
Robert Schumann 179 
 
 Hiller for Cologne. Schumann and his wife 
 went to Diisseldorf the first week of September 
 and were received with open arms. A banquet 
 and concert were arranged, at which some of the 
 composer's important works were performed. 
 His duties in the new post were conducting the 
 subscription concerts, weekly rehearsals of the 
 Choral Club and other musical performances. 
 He seemed well content with the situation and it 
 did not require too much of his physical strength. 
 
 Outside of his official duties his passion for 
 work again gained the ascendent. From Nov- 
 ember 2, to December 9, he sketched and 
 completed the Symphony in E flat in five parts, 
 a great work, equal to any of the other works in 
 this form. 
 
 From this time on, one important composition 
 followed another, until increasing illness for- 
 shadowed the sad catastrophe of the early part 
 of 1854. He wrote in June 1851, "we are all 
 tolerably well, except that I am the victim of oc- 
 casional nervous attacks; a few days ago I 
 fainted after hearing Radecke play the organ." 
 These nervous attacks increased in 1852. He 
 could not think music in rapid tempo and wished 
 everything slow. He heard special tones to the 
 exclusion of all others. 
 
 The close of 1853, brought two joyful events 
 to Schumann. In October he met Johann 
 
180 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 Brahms, whom he had introduced to the world, 
 through his Journal, as the "Messiah of Art." 
 In November he and his wife took a trip through 
 HoUand, which was a triumphal procession. 
 He found his music almost as well known in 
 Holland as at home. In Rotterdam and 
 Utrecht his third symphony was performed; in 
 The Hague the second was given, also "The 
 Pilgrimage of the Rose." Clara also played at 
 many concerts. 
 
 Just before Christmas the artist pair returned 
 to Diisseldorf . 
 
 The hallucinations which had before obsessed 
 him now returned with alarming force. He 
 could no longer sleep — ^he seemed to be lost in 
 mental darkness. 
 
 One day in Febuary 1854, his physician made 
 a noon call upon him. They sat chatting when 
 suddenly Schumann left the room without a 
 word. The doctor and his friends supposed he 
 would return. His wife went in search of him. 
 It seems he had left the house in dressing-gown, 
 gone to the Rhine bridge and thrown himself 
 into the river. Some sailors rescued him. 
 
 He now received constant care, and it was 
 found best to place him in a private hospital near 
 Bonn. Here he remained till the end of July, 
 1856, when the end came. 
 
 In his death the world of music lost one of the 
 mo§t highly gifted spirits. His life was im- 
 
^^^^^^>^^^^ ^^::::z^ 
 
Robert Schumann 181 
 
 portant and instructive for its moral and 
 intellectual grandeur, its struggles for the 
 noblest, loftiest subjects as well as for its truly 
 great results. 
 
XII 
 
 FREDERIC CHOPIN 
 
 What would the piano playing world do with- 
 out the music of Frederic Chopin? We can 
 hardly think of the piano without thinking of 
 Chopin, since he wrote almost exclusively for the 
 universal instrument. His music touches the 
 heart always rather than the head, the emotional 
 message far outweighs the intellectual meaning. 
 It is vital music — love music, winning the heart 
 by its tenderness, voicing the highest sentiments 
 by its refinement, its purity, its perfection of de- 
 tail and finish. 
 
 And the man who could compose with such 
 refinement, with such appealing eloquence, must 
 have possessed those qualities which shine out in 
 his music. He must have been gentle, chival- 
 rous, high-thoughted. We cannot avoid ex- 
 pressing ourselves in our work — in whatever we 
 do. 
 
 The father of this beloved composer was a 
 Frenchman, born in Nancy, Lorraine, in 1770, 
 the same year Beethoven saw the light in Bonn. 
 He was carefully brought up, well-bred and well- 
 
 182 
 
Frederic Chopin 183 
 
 educated. When a friend of his in Warsaw, 
 Poland, in the tobacco and snuff trade, then in 
 high repute with the nobility, needed help with 
 his book-keeping, he sent for the seventeen-year- 
 old lad. Thus it happened that Nicholas 
 Chopin came to Warsaw in 1787. It was a time 
 of unrest, when the nation was struggling for 
 liberty and independence. The young man ap- 
 plied himself to master the language, and study 
 the character and needs of his adopted country, 
 that he might be well informed. During the 
 period of insecurity in pohtical affairs, the to- 
 bacco factory had to be closed and Nicholas 
 Chopin looked for other activity. A few years 
 later we find him in the household of Countess 
 Skarbek, as a tutor to her son, Frederic. Here 
 he met his bride, Justina de Krzyzanowska, a 
 young lady of noble but poor family, whom he 
 married in 1806. She became the mother of his 
 four children, three girls and a boy. 
 
 The boy Frederic Chopin, was born on March 
 1, 1809, in the little village of Zelazowa Wola, 
 belonging to the Countess Skarbek, about 
 twenty-eight miles from Warsaw It is prob- 
 able the family did not remain here long, for the 
 young husband was on the lookout for more 
 profitable employment. He was successful, for 
 on October 1, 1810, he was appointed Professor 
 of French in the newly founded Lyceum in 
 Warsaw. He also soon organized a boarding 
 
184 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 school for boys in his own home, which was 
 patronized by the best Polish families of the 
 country. 
 
 Surrounded by refined, cultivated people, in 
 an atmosphere at once moral and intellectual, 
 little Frederic passed a fortunate childhood. 
 He soon manifested such fondness for music, 
 especially for the piano, that his parents allowed 
 him to have lessons, his teacher being Adalbert 
 Zywny, the best-known master of the city. It is 
 related that Zywny only taught his little pupil 
 first principles, for the child's progress was so 
 extraordinary that before long he had mastered 
 all his teacher could impart, and at twelve he was 
 left to shape his own musical destiny. 
 
 He early gave proofs of his talents. Before 
 he was eight years old he played at a large 
 evening company, with such surprising clever- 
 ness that it was predicted he would become 
 another Mozart. The next year he was invited 
 to take part in a large concert given under dis- 
 tinguished patronage. The boy was a simple, 
 modest child, and played the piano as the bird 
 sings, with unconscious art. When he returned 
 home after this concert, his mother asked : "What 
 did the people like best?" and he answered 
 naively: "Oh, mama, every one was looking at 
 my coUar." 
 
 After this, little Frederic became more than 
 
Frederic Chopin 185 
 
 ever the pet of the aristocracy of Warsaw; his 
 charming manners, his unspoiled nature, his 
 musical gifts made him welcome in princely 
 homes. He had also begun to compose; indeed 
 these efforts started soon after he began piano 
 lessons, and before he could handle a pen. His 
 teacher had to write down what the little com- 
 poser played. Among those early pieces were 
 mazurkas, polonaises, valses and the like. At 
 the age of ten he dedicated a march to Grand 
 Duke Constantine, who had it scored for band 
 and played on parade. He started lessons in 
 composition with Joseph Eisner, a celebrated 
 teacher, who became a hfe-long adviser and 
 friend. 
 
 Up to the age of fifteen, Frederic was taught 
 at home, in his father's school. He now entered 
 the Warsaw Lyceimii and proved a good 
 student, twice carrying off a prize. With this 
 studiousness was joined a gaiety and sprightli- 
 ness that manifested itself in all sorts of fun and 
 mischief. He loved to play pranks on his sisters, 
 comrades and others, and had a fondness for car- 
 icature, taking off the peculiarities of those 
 about him with pose and pen. Indeed it was the 
 opinion of a clever member of the profession, 
 that the lad was born to become a great actor. 
 All the young Chopins had a great fondness for 
 literature and writing; they occasionally tried 
 
186 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 their hand at poetry, and the production of 
 original one-act plays, written for birthday fetes 
 and family parties. 
 
 The most important event of Frederic's 
 fifteenth year was the publication of his first 
 composition for piano, a Rondo in C minor. 
 This was soon followed by a set of Variations, 
 Op. 2, on an air from Mozart's "Don Giovanni." 
 In these early pieces, written perhaps even be- 
 fore he was fifteen, we find the first stages of his 
 peculiar style. Even at this early time he was 
 pleased with chords that had the tones spread 
 apart in extended harmony. As his hands were 
 small he invented a contrivance which separated 
 the fingers as far apart as possible, in order that 
 he might reach the new chords more easily. 
 This he wore even during the night. The con- 
 trivance however, did not result in injury to his 
 hands, as did Schumann's efforts to strengthen 
 his fourth finger. 
 
 In 1827, Chopin finished his studies at the 
 Lyceum and determined to adopt music as his 
 profession. He was now seventeen, of slender 
 figure, finely cut features, high forehead, delicate 
 brows above dreamy, soulful eyes. Though not 
 weak or sickly, as some accounts make out, he 
 was never very robust; he would far rather he 
 under beautiful trees in delightful day dreams, 
 than take long excursions afoot. One of his 
 aversions was smoking or tobacco in any form; 
 
Frederic Chopin 187 
 
 he never vised it in his whole Hfe. He was 
 vivacious, active, hard working at music and 
 reasonably healthy in early youth, but not of a 
 hardy organism. His mother and sisters con- 
 stantly cautioned him to wrap up in cold or 
 damp weather, and like an obedient son and good 
 brother, he obeyed. 
 
 Young Chopin greatly wished to travel and 
 see something of the world. A much longed- 
 for opportimity to visit Berlin came to him the 
 following year. An old friend of his father's, 
 Dr. Jarocki, Professor in the Warsaw Uni- 
 versity, was invited to attend a Philosophic 
 Congress, presided over by Alexander von Hum- 
 boldt, to be held in that city. The good Pro- 
 fessor was willing to take his friend's son under 
 his wing, and Frederic was quite beside himself 
 with joy, for now he beheved he could meet 
 some of the musical celebrities of Berlin, and 
 hear some great music. As to the latter his 
 hopes were realized, but he did not meet many 
 musicians, and could only gaze at them from a 
 distance. It may have been a certain shyness 
 and reticence that stood in the way, for he wrote 
 home about a concert in the Singakademie: 
 "Spontini, Zelter and Felix Mendelssohn were 
 all there, but I spoke to none of these gentlemen, 
 as I did not think it becoming to introduce my- 
 self." Music and things connected with -music, 
 music-«hops and piano factories, took up most 
 
188 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 of his time, as he declined to attend the meetings 
 of the Congress. 
 
 "At the time of the Berlin visit," writes 
 Niecks, his biographer, "Chopin was a lively, 
 well-educated, well-mannered youth, who walked 
 through life, pleased with its motley garb, but as 
 yet unconscious of the deeper truths, the im- 
 mensities of joy and sadness, of love and hate, 
 which lie beneath the surface." 
 
 After a stay of two weeks in the Prussian 
 capital, Professor Jarocki and Frederic started 
 on their return to Poland. During the journey 
 they were obliged to halt an hour for fresh horses. 
 Chopin began to look about the little inn for 
 some sort of amusement to while away the time. 
 He soon discovered in a corner, an old piano, 
 which proved to be in tune. Of coiu-se he lost 
 no time, but sat down and began to improvise on 
 Polish melodies. Soon his fellow passengers of 
 the stage-coach began to drop in one after 
 another; at last came the post master with his 
 wife and pretty daughter. Even when the hour 
 was up and the horses had been put to the chaise, 
 they begged the young musician to go on and on. 
 Although he remonstrated, saying it was now 
 time to go, they protested so convincingly that the 
 boy sat down again and resumed his playing. 
 Afterwards wine was brought in and they all 
 drank to the health of the yoimg master. 
 Chopin gave them a mazurka for farewell, then 
 
Frederic Chopin 189 
 
 ■; ■ T.T ■ I 
 
 the tall post master caught him up and carried 
 him out to the coach, and all travelers started 
 away in high spirits. 
 
 About the middle of July, 1829, Chopin with 
 three young friends, started out for Vienna. In 
 those days an artist, in order to make himself 
 and his work known, had to travel about the 
 world and arrange concerts here and there, in- 
 troduce himself to prominent people in each 
 place and make them acquainted with his gifts. 
 The present journey had for its object Vienna, 
 the city of Beethoven and Schubert and other 
 great masters. 
 
 Of course the yoimg musician carried many 
 letters of introduction, both to publishers and 
 influential persons, for whom he played. Every 
 one told him he ought to give a concert, that it 
 would be a disgrace to parents, teachers and to 
 himself not to appear in pubUc. At last 
 Frederic overcame his hesitation. In a letter 
 home he writes ; "I have made up my mind ; they 
 tell me I shall create a furore, that I am an 
 artist of the first rank, worthy of a place beside 
 Moscheles, Herz and Kalbrenner," weU-known 
 musicians of the day. One must forgive the 
 nineteen year old boy, if he felt a little pride in 
 being classed with these older and more famous 
 musicians. 
 
 The concert took place in the Imperial Opera 
 House, just ten days after his arrival, and from 
 
190 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 all accounts was a great success. Chopin was 
 more than satisfied, he was delighted. Indeed 
 his success was so emphatic that a second con- 
 cert was given the following week. In both he 
 played some of his own compositions and im- 
 provised as well. 
 
 "It goes crescendo with my popularity here, 
 and this gives me much pleasure," he wrote 
 home, at the end of the fortnight, and on the 
 eve of starting to return. On the way back the 
 travelers visited Prague, Teplitz and Dresden. 
 A couple of days were spent in each, and then 
 the party arrived safely in Warsaw. 
 
 With such an intense nature, friendship and 
 love were two vital forces controlling life and 
 action. Chopin was devoted to his friends; he 
 clung to them with effusive ardor, incompre- 
 hensible to those less sensitive and romantic. 
 With Titus Woyciechowski he was heart to heart 
 in closest intimacy, and wrote him the most ador- 
 ing letters when they chanced to be separated. 
 Titus was less demonstrative, but always re- 
 mained devoted. 
 
 Love for women was destined to play a large 
 part in the inner life of Chopin. The first 
 awakening of this feehng came from his admi- 
 ration of Constantia Gladowska, a beautiful girl 
 and vocal pupil at the Conservatory at Warsaw. 
 Strangely enough he admired the young lady 
 for some time at a distance, and if report be true, 
 
Frederic Chopin 191 
 
 never really declared himself to her. But she 
 filled his thoughts by day, and he confessed to 
 dreaming of her each night. When she made 
 her debut in opera, he hung on every note she 
 sang and rejoiced in her success but did not 
 make his feelings known to her. All this pent- 
 up emotion was confined to his piano, in im- 
 passioned improvisations. 
 
 Seeing no suitable field for his genius in War- 
 saw and realizing he ought to leave home and 
 strike out for hunself , he yet delayed making the 
 break. He continued putting off the evil day 
 of parting from home and friends, and especially 
 putting a wide distance between himself and the 
 object of his adoration, Constantia. 
 
 The two years of indecision were fruitful in 
 producing much piano music and in complet- 
 ing the beautiful E minor Concerto, which was 
 rehearsed with orchestra and was performed at 
 the third and last concert he ever gave in Warsaw. 
 This concert was arranged for October 11, 1830. 
 Chopin requested Constantia Gladowska, whom 
 he had never met, to sing an aria. In the 
 success of the evening sorrow was forgotten. 
 He wrote to his friend: "Miss Gladowska wore 
 a white gown with roses in her hair and was 
 wondrously beautiful; she had never sung so 
 well." 
 
 After this event, Chopin decided the time 
 had come for him to depart. His trunk was 
 
192 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 bought, his clothing ready, pocket-handkerchiefs 
 hemmed ; in fact nothing remained but the worst 
 of all, the leave-taking. On November 1, 1830, 
 Eisner and a number of friends accompanied 
 him to Wola, the first village beyond Warsaw. 
 There they were met by a group of students 
 from the Conservatory, who sang a cantata, com- 
 posed by Eisner for the occasion. Then there 
 was a banquet. During this last meal together, 
 a silver goblet filled with Polish earth was pre- 
 sented to Chopin in the name of them all. 
 
 We can imagine the tender leave-takings after 
 that. "I am convinced," he said, "I am saying 
 an eternal farewell to my native country; I have 
 a presentiment I shall never return." And so 
 indeed it proved. 
 
 Again to Vienna, by way of Breslau, Dresden 
 and Prague. In Vienna all was not as rosy as it 
 had been on his first visit. Haslinger was un- 
 wilhng to publish more of his compositions, 
 though there were the two concertos, etudes and 
 many short pieces. The way did not open to 
 give a concert. He was lonely and unhappy, 
 constantly dreaming of home and the beloved 
 Constantia. From graphic letters to one of his 
 dearest friends, a few sentences will reveal his 
 inner life. 
 
 "To-day is the first of January (1831). Oh, 
 how sadly this year begins for me I I love you 
 all above all things. My poor parents! How 
 
Frederic Cliopin 193 
 
 are my friends faring? I could die for you all. 
 Why am I doomed to be here so lonely and for- 
 saken? You can at least open your hearts to 
 each otjher. Go and see my parents — and — Con- 
 stantia." 
 
 Although it did not seem advisable to give 
 concerts in Vienna, yet Chopin made many 
 pleasant acquaintances among the musicians and 
 prominent people, and was constantly invited. 
 He had planned to go from Vienna to either 
 Italy or France. As there were political trou- 
 bles in the former country, he decided to start 
 for Paris, stopping on the way at a few places. 
 In Munich he gave a morning concert, in the 
 hall of the PhiUiarmonie, which won him renown. 
 From Munich he proceeded to Stuttgart, and 
 during a short stay there, heard the sad news of 
 the taking of Warsaw by the Russians. This 
 event, it is said, inspired him to compose the 
 C minor Etude, Op. 10, No. 12. 
 
 The Poles and everything Polish were at that 
 time the rage in Paris. The young Polish mas- 
 ter found ready entrance into the highest musi- 
 cal and literary circles of this most delightful 
 city of the world. All was romance, fantasy, 
 passion, which fitted with Chopin's sensitive and 
 romantic temperament. Lfittle wonder that he 
 became inspired by contact with some of the 
 greatest in the world of arts and letters. 
 
 There were Victor Hugo. King of the roman- 
 
194 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 ticists, Heine, poet and novelist; De Musset, 
 Flaubert, Zola, Lamartine, Chateaubriand, 
 Baudelaire, Ary Scheffer, Merimee, Gautier, 
 Berlioz, Balzac, Rossini, Meyerbeer, Hiller, 
 Nourrit, to mention a few. Liszt was there too, 
 and George Sand, Mendelssohn and Kalkbren- 
 ner. Chopin called on the last named, who was 
 considered the first pianist of the day, and played 
 for him. Kalkbrenner remarked he had the 
 style of Cramer and the touch of Field. He 
 proposed that Chopin should study three years 
 with him, and he would then become a great 
 virtuoso. Of course the young artist might have 
 learned something on the mechanical side, but 
 at the risk of injuring the originaUty and style 
 of his playing. His old friend and teacher 
 Eisner, kept him from doing this. 
 
 The first year in Paris Chopin played at a 
 number of concerts and functions, with ever in- 
 creasing success. But in spite of the artistic 
 success, his finances ran low, and he began to 
 consider a trip to America. Fortunately he met 
 Prince Radziwill on the street at this time, and 
 was persuaded to play at a Rothschild soiree in 
 the evening. From this moment, it is said, his 
 prospects brightened, and he secured a number 
 of wealthy patrons as pupils. Whether this be 
 true or not, he came to know many titled per- 
 sonages. One has only to turn the pages of his 
 music to note how many pieces are dedicated to 
 
Frederic Chopin 195 
 
 Princess This and Countess That. This mode 
 of life was reflected in his music, which became 
 more elegant and aristocratic. 
 
 During the season of 1833 and 1884, Chopin 
 continued to make his way as composer, pianist 
 and teacher. A letter to friends in Poland, says : 
 "Frederic looks well and strong; he turns the 
 heads of all the French women, and makes the 
 men jealous. He is now the fashion." 
 
 In the spring of 1834 Chopin had been per- 
 suaded by Ferdinand Hiller to accompany him to 
 Aix-la-Chapelle, to attend the Lower Rhine 
 Music Festival. Before they started Chopin 
 found he had not the money to go, as it had been 
 spent or given to some needy countryman. 
 HiUer did not like to go alone, and asked if his 
 friend could think of no way out of the dilemma. 
 At last Chopin took the manuscript of the E flat 
 Valse, Op. 18, went with it to Pleyel the pub- 
 lisher, and returned with five hundred francs. 
 They could now go and enjoy the trip they had 
 planned. 
 
 In July, 1835, Chopin met his parents at 
 Carlsbad, where his father had been sent by the 
 Warsaw physicians to take the cure. The young 
 musician, now famous, had not seen his parents 
 in nearly five years, and the reunion must have 
 been a happy one. From here he went to Dres- 
 den and Leipsic, meeting Schumann and Men- 
 delssohn- Schumann admired the young Pole 
 
196 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 greatly and wrote much about him in his musical 
 magazine. Mendelssohn considered him a "really 
 perfect virtuoso, whose piano playing was both 
 original and masterly," but he was not sure 
 whether his compositions were right or wrong." 
 Chopin also stopped in Heidelberg on the way to 
 Paris, visiting the father of his pupil Adolph 
 Gutman. He must have been back in Paris about 
 the middle of October, for the papers mention 
 that "M. Chopin, one of the most eminent pianists 
 of our epoch, has just made a tour of Germany, 
 which has been for him a real ovation. Every- 
 where his admirable talent obtained the most flat- 
 tering reception and excited much enthusiasm." 
 
 The story of Chopin's attraction for Marie 
 Wodzinski and his reported engagement to her, 
 is soon told. During his visit in Dresden, after 
 leaving his parents in Carlsbad, he saw much of 
 his old friends. Count Wodzinski and his fam- 
 ily. The daughter, Marie, aged nineteen, was 
 tall and slender, not beautiful but charming, with 
 soft dark hair and soulful eyes. Chopin spent all 
 his evenings at their home and saw mudi of 
 Marie. The last evening the girl gave him a 
 rose, and he composed a valse for her. 
 
 The next svmmier the two met again at Ma- 
 rienbad, and resumed their walks, talks and 
 music. She drew his portrait, and one day 
 Chopin proposed She assured him she would al- 
 ways remain his friend, but her family would 
 
Frederic Chopin 197 
 
 never consent to their marriage. So that brief 
 romance was over. 
 
 An attachment of a different sort was that with 
 Mme. Dudevant, known in literature as George 
 Sand. Books have been written about this re- 
 markable woman. The family at Nohant where 
 she had spent her childhood, where her two 
 children, Maurice and Solange, lived, and where 
 her husband sometimes came, became distasteful 
 to her; she wanted to see life. Paris offered it. 
 Although possessing ample means, she arranged 
 to spend six months in Paris each year, and live 
 on two hundred and fifty francs a month. She 
 came in 1831. Her minage was of the simplest 
 — ^three small rooms, with meals from a near-by 
 restaurant at two francs ; she did the washing her- 
 self. Woman's attire was too expensive, so, as 
 she had worn man's attire when riding and hunt- 
 ing at Nohant, she saw nothing shocking in wear- 
 ing it in Paris. 
 
 Her literary student life, as she called it, now 
 began. She went about the streets at all times, 
 in all weathers; went to garrets, studios, clubs, 
 theaters, coffee-houses, everywhere but the salons. 
 The romance of society-life as it was lived in the 
 French capital, were the studies she ardently 
 pursued. From these studies of life grew the 
 several novels she produced during the years 
 that followed. 
 
 It is said that Chopin met Mme. Sand at a 
 
198 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 musical matinee, given by the Marquis of C, 
 where the aristocracy of genius, wealth and 
 beauty had assembled. Chopin had gone to the 
 piano and was absorbed in an improvisation, 
 when lifting his eyes from the keys he encountered 
 the fiery glances of a lady standing neai*. Per- 
 haps the truer account of their first meeting is 
 that given by Chopin's pupil Gutman, Mme. 
 Sand, who had the facvdty of subjugating every 
 man of genius she came in contact with, asked 
 Liszt repeatedly to introduce her. 
 
 One morning, early in the year 1837, Liszt 
 called on his brother artist and found him in 
 good spirits over some new compositions. He 
 wished to play them to some friends, so it was 
 arranged that a party of them, should come to 
 his rooms that evening. Liszt came with his 
 special friend, Mme. d'Agoult and George Sand. 
 Afterwards these meetings were frequently re- 
 peated. Liszt poetically describes one such even- 
 ing, in his "Life of Chopin." 
 
 The fastidious musician was not at first at- 
 tracted to the rather masculine-looking woman, 
 addicted to smoking, who was short, stout, with 
 large nose, coarse mouth and small chin. She 
 had wonderful eyes, though, and her manners 
 were both quiet and fascinating. 
 
 Her influence over Chopin began almost at 
 once; they were soon seen together everywhere. 
 Sand liked to master a reserved, artistic nature 
 
Frederic 'Chopin 199 
 
 such as that of the Pohsh musician. She was not 
 herself musical, but appreciated all forms of 
 art. 
 
 In 1838 Mme, Sand's son Maurice became ill, 
 and she proposed a trip to Majorca. Chopin 
 went with the party and fell ill himself. There 
 were many discomforts during their travels, due 
 to bad weather and other inconveniences. 
 
 Chopin's health now began to be a source of 
 anxiety to his friends. He had to be very care- 
 ful, gave fewer lessons during the season, and 
 spent his vacations at Nohant. He played 
 rarely in public, though there were two public 
 concerts in 1841 and '42 at Pleyel's rooms. 
 From 1843 to 1847 he lived quietly and his life 
 was apparently happy. He was fond of the 
 Sand children, and amused himself with them 
 when at Nohant. 
 
 But the breach, which had staii;ed some years 
 before, between Mme. Sand and Chopin, wid- 
 ened as time passed, and they parted in 1847. 
 It was the inevitable, of course. Chopin never 
 had much to say about it ; Sand said more, while 
 the students asserted she had killed their beloved 
 master. Probably it all helped to undermine 
 the master's feeble health. His father passed 
 away in 1844, his sister also, of pulmonary trou- 
 ble ; he was lonely and ill himself. He gave his 
 last concert in Paris, February 16, 1848. 
 Though weak he played beautifully. Some one 
 
200 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 said he fainted in the artist's room. The loss of 
 Sand, even though he had long wearied of her, 
 was the last drop. 
 
 To secure rest and change, he undertook a trip 
 to London, for the second and last time, arriving 
 April 21, 1848. He played at different great 
 houses and gave two matinees, at the homes of 
 Adelaide Kemble and Lord Falmouth, Jime 23, 
 and July 7. These were attended by many ti- 
 tled personages, Viardot Garcia sang. The 
 composer was thin, pale, and played with "wasted 
 fingers," but the money helped replenish his de- 
 pleted purse. 
 
 Chopin visited Scotland in August of the same 
 year, and stayed with his pupil Miss Jane Stir- 
 ling, to whom he dedicated the two Nocturnes, 
 Op. 55. He played in Manchester, August 28; 
 his playing was rather weak, but retained all its 
 elegance, finish and grace. He was encored for 
 his familiar Mazurka, Op. 7, No. 1, and repeated 
 it with quite different nuances. One survivor 
 of this audience remarked subsequently in a 
 letter to a friend: "My emotion was so great I 
 was compelled to retire to recover myself. I 
 have heard all the celebrated stars of the musical 
 firmament, but never has one left such an impres- 
 sion on my mind." 
 
 Chopin returned to London in November, 
 and left England in January 1849. His purse 
 was very low and his lodgings in the Rue 
 
Frederic Chopin 201 
 
 Chaillot, Paris, were represented as costing half 
 their value, the balance being paid by a Russian 
 Countess, who was touched by his need. The 
 generous hearted Miss Stirling raised 25,000 
 francs for the composer, so his last days were 
 cheered by every comfort. He passed away 
 October 17, 1849, and every writer agrees it was 
 a serene passing. His face was beautiful and 
 young, in the flower-covered casket, says Liszt, 
 for friends filled his rooms with blossoms. He 
 was buried from the Madeleine, October thir- 
 tieth. The B flat minor Funeral March, orches- 
 trated by Reber, was given, and during the ser- 
 vice Lef ebure Wely played on the organ the E 
 and B minor Preludes. His grave in Pfere La- 
 chaise is sought out by maiiy travelers who ad- 
 mire his great art. It is difficult to find the tomb 
 in that crowded White City, but no doubt all 
 music lovers seek to bring away at least a leaf — 
 aa did the writer — from the earthly resting place 
 of the most ideal pianist and composer who ever 
 lived. 
 
 Chopin was preeminently a composer for the 
 piano. With the exception of the Trio, Op. 8 
 arid a book of Polish songs, everything he wrote 
 was for his favorite instrimient. There are 
 seventy-one opus numbers in the list, but often 
 whole sets of pieces are contained in one opus 
 number, as is the case with the Jfitudes, of which 
 there are twelve in Op. 10, and the same in Op. 25. 
 
202 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 These Etudes take up every phase of piano tech- 
 nic; each one has a definite aim, yet each is 
 a beautiful finished work as music. They have 
 been edited and re-edited by the greatest mas- 
 ters. 
 
 The twenty-four Preludes were composed be- 
 fore the trip to Majorca, though they were per- 
 fected and polished while there. Written early 
 in his career, they have a youthful vigor not often 
 foimd in later works. "Much in miniature are 
 these Preludes of the Polish poet," says Huneker. 
 
 There are four Impromptus and four Bal- 
 lades, also four Scherzos. In them the composer 
 is free, fascinating, often bold and daring. The 
 great Fantaisie, Op. 49, is an epic poem, much 
 as the Barcarolle is a poem of love. The two 
 Sonatas, not to mention an early effort in this 
 form, are among the modern classics, which are 
 bound to appear on the programs of every 
 great pianist of the present, and doubtless of the 
 future. The two Concertos are cherished by 
 virtuosi and audience alike, and never fail to 
 make an instant and lasting appeal. 
 
 And think of the eleven Polonaises, those 
 courtly dances, the most characteristic and na- 
 tional of his works ; the fourteen Valses, beloved 
 of every young piano student the world over; 
 the eighteen Nocturnes, of starry night music; 
 the entrancing Mazurkas, fifty-two in number. 
 One marvels, in merely glancing over the list. 
 
Frederic Chopin 203 
 
 that the composer, who lived such a super-sen- 
 sitive hectic life, whose days were so occupied 
 with lesson giving, ever had the time to create 
 such a mass of music, or the energy to write it. 
 When one considers the amount of it, the 
 beauty, originaKty and glory of it, one must ac- 
 knowledge Frederic Chopin as one of the great- 
 est piano geniuses of all time. 
 
XIII 
 
 HECTOR BERLIOZ 
 
 In the south of France, near Grenoble, is 
 found a romantic spot, La Cote Saint-Andre. 
 It lies on a hillside overlooking a wide green and 
 golden plain, and its dreamy majesty is accen- 
 tuated by the line of mountains that bounds it 
 on the southeast. These in turn are crowned 
 by the distant glory of snowy peaks and Alpine 
 glaciers. Here one of the most distinguished 
 men of the modern movement in French musical 
 art. Hector Berlioz, first saw the light, on De- 
 cember 11, 1803. 
 
 He was an only son of a physician. His 
 father, a learned man, with the utmost care, 
 taught his little boy history, literature, geog- 
 raphy, languages, even music. Hector was a 
 most romantic, impressionable child, who peopled 
 nature with fairies and elves, as he lay under 
 great trees and dreamed fantastic day dreams. 
 Poetry and rom,antic tales were his delight and 
 he found much to feed his imagination in his 
 father's large library. 
 
 His mother's father lived at Meylan, a little 
 
 204 
 
Hector Berlioz 206 
 
 village not far from Grenoble, and there, in this 
 picturesque valley, the family used to spend a 
 part of each summer. 
 
 Above Meylan, in a crevice of the mountain, 
 stood a white house amid its vineyards and gar- 
 dens. It was the home of Mme. Gautier and her 
 two nieces, of whom the yovmger was called 
 Estelle. When the boy Hector saw her for the 
 first time, he was twelve, a shy, retiring Httle 
 fellow. Estelle was just eighteen, tall, graceful, 
 with beautiful dusky hair and large soulful eyes. 
 Most wonderful of all, with her simple white 
 gown, she wore pink slippers. The shy boy of 
 twelve fell in desperate love with this white robed 
 apparition in pink slippers. He says himseK: 
 
 "Never do I recall Estelle, but with the flash 
 of her large dark eyes comes the twinkle of her 
 dainty pink shoes. To say I loved her com- 
 prises everything. I was wretched, dimab, de- 
 spairing. By night I suffered agonies — ^by day 
 I wandered alone through the fields of Indian 
 com, or, like a wovmded bird, sought the deepest 
 recesses of my grandfather's orchard. 
 
 "One evening there was a party at Mme. 
 Gautier's and various games were played. In 
 one of them I was told to choose first. But I 
 dared not, my heart-beats choked me. EsteUe, 
 smiling, caught my hand, saying: 'Come, I will 
 begin; I choose Monsieur Hector.' But, ah, she 
 laughed! 
 
206 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 "I was thirteen when we parted. I was thirty 
 when, returning from Italy, I passed through 
 this district, so filled with early memories. My 
 eyes filled at sight of the white house: I loved 
 her still. On reaching my old home I learned 
 she was married!" 
 
 With pangs of early love came music, that is, 
 attempts at musical composition. His father 
 had taught him the rudiments of music, and soon 
 after gave him a flute. On this the boy worked 
 so industriously that in seven or eight months he 
 could play fairly well. He also took sing- 
 ing lessons, as he had a pretty soprano voice. 
 Harmony was likewise studied by this ambitious 
 lad, but it was self taught. He had f oimd a copy 
 of Rameau's "Harmony" among some old books 
 and spent many hours poring over those la- 
 bored theories in his efforts to reduce them to 
 some form and sense. 
 
 Inspired by these studies he tried his hand at 
 music making in earnest. First came some ar- 
 rangements of trios and quartettes. Then 
 finally he was emboldened to write a quintette for 
 flute, two violins, viola and 'cello. Two months 
 later he had produced another quintette, which 
 proved to be a little better. At this time Hector 
 was twelve and a half. His father had set his 
 heart on the boy's following his footsteps and be- 
 coming a doctor; the time was rapidly approach- 
 ing when a decision had to be made. IDoctor Ber- 
 
Hector Berlioz 207 
 
 lioz promised if his son would study anatomy 
 and thoroughly prepare himself in this branch 
 of the profession, he should have the finest flute 
 that could be bought. His cousin Robert shared 
 these anatomical lessons; but as Robert was a 
 good violinist, the two boys spent more time over 
 music than over osteology. The cousin, however, 
 really worked over his anatomy, and was always 
 ready at the lessons with his demonstrations, 
 while Hector was not, and thus drew upon him- 
 self many a reprimand. However he managed 
 to learn all his father could teach him, and when 
 he was nineteen consented to go to Paris, with 
 Robert, and — ^though much against his will — ^be- 
 come a doctor. 
 
 When the boys reached Paris, in 1822, Hector 
 loyally tried to keep his promise to his father 
 and threw himself into the studies which were so 
 repugnant to him. He says he might have be- 
 come a common-place physician after all, had he 
 not one night gone to the opera. That night 
 was a revelation; he became half frantic with ex- 
 citement and enthusiasm. He went again and 
 again. Learning that the Conservatoire library, 
 with its wealth of scores, was open to the public, 
 he began to study the scores of his adored Gluck. 
 He read, re-read and copied long parts and 
 scenes from these wonderful scores, even forget- 
 ting to eat, drink or sleep, in his wild enthusiasm. 
 Of course, now, the career of doctor must be 
 
208 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 given up; there was no question of that. He 
 wrote home that in spite of father, mother, rela- 
 tions and friends, a musician he would be and 
 nothing else. 
 
 A short time after this the choir master of 
 Saint Roch, suggested that Hector should write 
 a mass for Innocents' Day, promising a chorus 
 and orchestra, with ample rehearsals, also that 
 the choir boys would copy the parts. He set to 
 work with enthusiasm. But alas, after one trial 
 of the completed work, which ended in confusion 
 owing to the countless mistakes the boys had made 
 in copying the score, he rewrote the whole com- 
 position. Fearing another fiasco from amateur 
 copyists, the young composer wrote out all the 
 parts himself. This took three months. With 
 the help of a friend who advanced funds, the 
 mass was performed at Saint Roch, and was well 
 spoken of by the press. 
 
 The hostility of Hector's family to music as a 
 profession, died down a bit, owing to the success 
 of the mass, but started up with renewed vigor 
 when the son and brother failed to pass the 
 entrance examinations at the Conservatoire. 
 His father wrote that if he persisted in staying 
 on in Paris his allowance would be stopped. 
 Lesueur, his teacher, promised to iatercede and 
 wrote an appealing letter, which really made 
 matters worse instead of better. Then Hector 
 went home himself, to plead his cause in person. 
 
Hector Berlioz 209 
 
 He was coldly received by his family ; his father 
 at last consented to his return to Paris for a time, 
 but his mother forbade it absolutely. In case he 
 disobeyed her will, she would disown him and 
 never again wished to see his face. So Hector 
 at last set out again for Paris with no kind look 
 or word from his mother, but reconciled for the 
 time being with the rest of the family. 
 
 The young enthusiast began life anew in Paris, 
 by being very economical, as he must pay back 
 the loan made for his mass. He found a tiny 
 fifth floor room, gave up restaurant dinners and 
 contented himself with plain bread, with the ad- 
 dition of raisins, prunes or dates. He also 
 secured some pupils, which helped out in this 
 emergency, and even got a chance to sing in 
 vaudeville, at the enormous sum of 50 francs per 
 month ! 
 
 These were strenuous days for the eager ardent 
 musician. Teaching from necessity, in order to 
 live, spending every spare moment on composing; 
 attending opera whenever he got a free ticket; 
 yet, in spite of many privations there was happi- 
 ness too. With score under arm, he always 
 made it a point to follow the performance of any 
 opera he heard. And so in time, he came to 
 Imow the sound— the voice as it were, of each in- 
 strument in the orchestra. The study of Bee- 
 thoven, Weber and Spontini — ^watching for rare 
 and imusual combinations of sounds, being with 
 
210 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 artists who were kind enough to explain the com- 
 pass and powers of their instruments, were the 
 ways and means he used to perfect his art. 
 
 When the Conservatoire examinations of 1827, 
 came on. Hector tried again, and this time passed 
 the prehminary test. The task set for the 
 general competition was to write music for 
 Orpheus torn by the Bacchantes. An incom- 
 petent pianist, whose duty it was to play over 
 the compositions, for the judges, could seem to 
 make nothing of Hector's score. The six 
 judges, headed by Cherubini, the Director of the 
 Conservatoire, voted against the aspirant, and 
 he was thrown out a second time. 
 
 And now came to Berlioz a new revelatiort — • 
 nothing less than the revelation of the art of 
 Shakespeare. An English company of actors 
 had come to Paris, and the first night Hamlet 
 was given, with Henrietta Smithson — who five 
 years later became his wife — as Ophelia. 
 
 In his diary Berlioz writes: "Shakespeare, 
 coming upon me unawares, struck me down as 
 with a thunderbolt. His lightning spirit opened 
 to me the highest heaven of Art, and revealed to 
 me the best and grandest and truest that earth 
 can give." He began to worship both the 
 genius of Shakespeare and the art of the beauti- 
 ful English actress. Every evening found him 
 at the theater, but days were spent in a kind of 
 
Hector Berlioz 211 
 
 dumb despair, dreaming of Shakespeare and of 
 Miss Smithson, who had now become the darling 
 of Paris. 
 
 At last this sort of dmnb frenzy spent itself 
 and the musician in him awoke and he returned to 
 his normal self. A new plan began to take 
 shape in his mind. He would give a concert of 
 his own works: up to that time no French 
 musician had done so. Thus he would compel 
 her to hear of him, although he had not yet met 
 the object of his devoted admiration. 
 
 It was early spring of the year 1828, when he 
 set to work with frantic energy, writing sixteen 
 hours a day, in order to carry through the 
 wonderful plan. The concert, the result of so 
 much labor, was given the last of May, with 
 varying success. But alas. Miss Smithson, ad- 
 sorbed in her own affairs, had not even heard of 
 the excitable young composer who had dared 
 and risked so much to make a name that might 
 attract her notice. 
 
 As Berlioz pere again stopped his allowance. 
 Hector began to write for musical journals. At 
 first ignorant of the ways of journalism, his wild 
 utterances were the despair of his friends; later 
 his trenchant pen was both admired and feared. 
 
 For the third time, in June of this year, he 
 entered the Conservatoire contest, and won a 
 second prize, in this case a gold medal. Two 
 
212 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 years later he won the coveted Prix de Rome, 
 which gives the winner five years' study, free of 
 expense, in the Eternal City. 
 
 Before this honor was achieved, however, a new 
 influence came into his life, which for a time over- 
 shadowed the passion for Shakespeare and Miss 
 Smithson. It happened on this wise, 
 
 Ferdinand Hiller, composer, pianist and one 
 of Hector's intimate friends, fell deeply in love 
 with Marie Moke, a beautiful, talented girl who, 
 later on, won considerable fame as a pianist. 
 She became interested in the young French com- 
 poser, through hearing of his mental suffering 
 from HiUer. They were thrown together in a 
 school where both gave lessons, she on the piano 
 and he on the — guitar! Meeting so constantly, 
 her dainty beauty won a warm place in the 
 affections of the impressionable Hector. She 
 was but eighteen, while her admirer was twenty- 
 five. 
 
 Hiller saw how things were going and behaved 
 admirably. He called it fate, wished the pair 
 every happiness, and left for Frankfort. 
 
 Then came the Prix de Rome, which the poor 
 boy had struggled so long to win, and now did 
 not care so much for, as going to Italy would 
 mean to leave Paris. On August 23, 1830, he 
 wrote to a friend : 
 
 "I have gained the Prix de Rome. It was 
 
Hector Berlioz 218 
 
 awarded unanimously — a thing never known be- 
 fore. My sweet Ariel was dying of anxiety 
 when I told her the news ; her dainty wings were 
 all ruffled, till I smoothed them with a word. 
 Even her mother, who does not look too favor- 
 ably on our love, was touched to tears. 
 
 "On November 1, there is to be a concert at 
 the Theater Italien. I am asked to write an 
 Overture and am going to take as subject Shake- 
 speare's Tempest; it wiU be quite a new style of 
 thing. My great concert, with the Symphonic 
 Fantastique, willtake place November 14, but 
 I must have a theatrical success; Camille's 
 parents insist on that, as a condition of our mar- 
 riage. I hope I shall succeed." 
 
 These concerts were both successful and the 
 young composer passed from deepest anxiety to 
 exuberant delight. He wrote to the same friend ; 
 
 "The Tempest is to be played a second time at 
 the opera. It is new, fresh, strange, grand, 
 sweet, tender, surprising. Fetis wrote two 
 splendid articles about it for the Revue Musicale. 
 — My marriage is fixed for Easter, 1832, on con- 
 dition that I do not lose my pension, and that I 
 go to Italy for one year. My blessed Sym- 
 phonic has done the deed." 
 
 The next January Berhoz went home to his 
 family, who were now reconciled to his choice of 
 music as a profession, and deluged him with 
 
214 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 compliments, caresses and tender solicitude. 
 The parents had fully forgiven their gifted 
 son, 
 
 "There is Rome, Signore." 
 
 It was true. The Eternal City lay spread 
 out in purple majesty before the yovmg traveler, 
 who suddenly realized the grandeur, the poetry 
 of this heart of the world. The Villa Medici, 
 the venerable ancient palace, centuries old, had 
 been reserved by the Academiie of France as home 
 for her students, whose sole obligation was to 
 send, once a year, a sample of their work to the 
 Academie in Paris, 
 
 When Hector Berlioz arrived in Rome he was 
 twenty-seven, and of striking appearance. A 
 mass of reddish auburn hair crowned a high fore- 
 head ; the features were prominent, especially the 
 nose; the expression was full of sensitive refine- 
 ment. He was of an excitable and ardent tem- 
 perament, but in knowledge of the world's ways 
 often simple as a child. 
 
 Berlioz, who was welcomed with many hu- 
 morous and friendly jests on his appearance 
 among the other students, had just settled down 
 to work, when he learned that his Ariel — other- 
 wise Marie Moke — ^had forsaken him and had 
 married Pleyel. In a wild state of frenzy he 
 would go to Paris at once and seek revenge. He 
 started, got as far as Nice, grew calmer, re- 
 mained at Nice for a month, during which time 
 
Hector Berlioz 216 
 
 the Overture to "King Lear" was written, then 
 returned to Rome by the way of Genoa and 
 Florence, 
 
 By July 1832, Berlioz had returned to La 
 Cote Saint Andr'^ for a home visit. He had 
 spent a year in Italy, had seen much, composed 
 a nimiber of important things, but left Rome 
 without regrets, and foxmd the familiar land' 
 scape near his home more fascinating than any- 
 thing Italy could show. 
 
 The rest of the summer was spent in the 
 beautiful Dauphiny coimtry, working on the 
 "Damnation of Faust." In the fall he returned 
 to Paris. The vision of his Ophelia, as he used to 
 call Miss Smithson, was seldom long absent from 
 his thoughts, and he now went to the house where 
 she used to live, thinking himself very lucky to 
 be able to find lodging there. Meeting the old 
 servant, he learned Miss Smithson was again in 
 Paris, and would manage a new English theater, 
 which was to open in a few days. But Berlioz 
 was planning a concert of his own compositions, 
 and did not trust himself to see the woman he 
 had so long adored imtil this venture was over. 
 It happened, however, that some friends induced 
 her to attend the concert, the success of which is 
 said to have been tremendous. The composer 
 had the happiness of meeting the actress the 
 same evening. The next day he called on her. 
 Their engagement lasted nearly a year, opposed 
 
216 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 by her mother and sister, and also by Hector's 
 family. The following summer Henrietta 
 Smithson, all but ruined from her theatrical ven- 
 tures, and weak from a fall, which made her a 
 cripple for some years, was married to Hector 
 Berlioz, in spite of the opposition of their two 
 families-. 
 
 And now there opened to Berlioz a life of 
 stress and struggle, inseparable from such a 
 nature as his. At one moment he would be in 
 the highest heaven of happiness, and the next in 
 the depths of despair. His wife's heavy debts 
 were a load to carry, but he manfully did his 
 best to pay them. We can be sure that every 
 work he ever produced was composed under most 
 trying circumstances, of one kind or another. 
 One of his happiest ventures was a concert of his 
 own compositions, given at the Conservatoire on 
 October 22, 1833. Of it he wrote: "The con- 
 cert, for which I engaged the very best artists, 
 was a triumphant success. My musicians 
 beamed with joy all evening, and to crown all, I 
 found waiting for me a man with long black hair, 
 piercing eyes and wasted form. Catching my 
 hand, he poured forth a flood of burning praise 
 and appreciation. It was Paganinil" 
 
 Paganini commissioned Berlioz to write a solo 
 for his beautiful Strad. viola. The composer de- 
 murred for a time, and then made the attempt. 
 While the result was not just what the violinist 
 
Hector Berlioz 217 
 
 wished, yet the themes afterward formed the 
 basis for Berlioz' composition "ChUde Harold." 
 
 The next great work vmdertaken by Berlioz 
 was the Reqiiiem. It seems that, in 1836, the 
 French Minister of the Interior set aside yearly, 
 3,000 francs to be given to a native composer, 
 chosen by the Minister, to compose a religious 
 work, either a mass or an oratorio, to be per- 
 formed at the expense of the Government. 
 
 "I shall begin with Berlioz," he announced: 
 "I am sure he could write a good Requiem." 
 
 After many intrigues and difficulties, this 
 work was completed and performed in a way 
 the composer considered "a magnificent tri- 
 imiph." 
 
 Berlioz, like most composers, always wished 
 to produce an opera. "Benvenuto Cellini" was 
 the subject finally chosen. It took a long time 
 to write, and perhaps would never have been 
 finished, since Berlioz was so tied to bread-win- 
 ning journalistic labors, if a kind friend — ^Ernest 
 Legouve — ^had not offered to lend him two 
 thousand francs. This loan made him indepen- 
 dent for a little time, and gave him the necessary 
 leisure in which to compose. 
 
 The "Harold" music was now finished and 
 Berlioz advertised both this and the Symphonic 
 Fantastique for a concert at the Conservatoire, 
 December 16, 1838. Paganini was present, and 
 declared he had never been so moved by music 
 
218 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 before. He dragged the composer back on the 
 platform, where some of the musicians still 
 lingered, and there knelt and kissed his hand. 
 The next day he sent Berlioz a check for twenty 
 thousand francs. 
 
 Berlioz and his wife, two of the most highly 
 strung individuals to be foimd anywhere, were 
 boimd to have plenty of storm and stress in their 
 daily life. And so it came about that a separa- 
 tion, at least for a time, seemed advisable. Ber- 
 lioz made every provision in his power for her 
 comfort, and then started out on various tours to 
 make his compositions known. Concerts were 
 given in Stuttgart, Heckingen, Weimar, Leipsic, 
 and in Dresden two, both very successful. 
 Others took place in Brunswick, Hamburg, 
 Berlin, Hanover, finishing at Darmstadt, where 
 the Grand Duke insisted not only on the com- 
 poser taking the full receipts for the concert, but, 
 in addition, refused to let him pay any of the ex- 
 penses. 
 
 And now back in Paris, at the treadmill of 
 writing again, Berlioz had the sort of mentality 
 which could plan, and also execute, big musical 
 enterprises on a grand scale. It was proposed 
 that he and Strauss should give a couple of 
 monster concerts in the Exhibition Building. 
 He got together a body of 1022 performers, all 
 paid except the singers from the lyric thea- 
 
Hector Berlioz 219 
 
 ters, who volunteered to help for the love of 
 music. 
 
 It was a tremendous imdertakmg, and though 
 an artistic success, the exertion nearly finished 
 Berlioz, who was sent south by his physician. 
 Resting on the shores of the Mediterranean, he 
 afterwards gave concerts in Marseilles, Lyons, 
 and Lille and then traveled to Vienna. He 
 writes of this visit : 
 
 "My reception by all in Vienna — even by my 
 feUow-plowmen, the critics — ^was most cordial; 
 they treated me as a man and a brother, for 
 which I am heartily grateful. 
 
 "After my third concert, there was a grand 
 supper, at which my friends presented me with 
 a silver-gUt baton, and the Emperor sent me 
 eleven hundred francs, with the odd compliment: 
 'Tell Berlioz I was really amused.' " 
 
 His way now led through Hungary. Per- 
 formances were given in Pesth and Prague, 
 where he was royally entertained and given a 
 silver cup. 
 
 On returning to Paris, he had much domestic 
 trouble to bear. His wife was paralyzed and his 
 only son, Louis, wished to leave home and be- 
 come a sailor — ^which he did eventually, though 
 much against the wishes of his parents. 
 
 The "Damnation of Faust," now finished, was 
 given at the Opera, and was not a success. Ber- 
 
220 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 lioz then conceived the idea of going to Russia to 
 retrieve his fortunes. With the' help of kind 
 friends, who advanced the money, he was able to 
 carry out the plan. He left for Russia on 
 February 14, 1847. The visits to both St. 
 Petersbiu-g and Moscow prpved to be very suc- 
 cessful financially as well as artistically. To 
 cap the climax, "Romeo and Juliette" was per- 
 formed at St. Petersburg. Then the King 
 of Prussia, wishing to hear the "Faust," the com- 
 poser arranged to spend ten days in Berlin: 
 then to Paris and London, where success was 
 also achieved. 
 
 Shadows as well as sunshine filled the next few 
 years. The composer was saddened by the 
 passing of his father. Then a favorite sister 
 also left, and last of all his wife passed quietly 
 away, March 3, 1854. With all these sorrows 
 Berlioz was at times nearly beside himself. But 
 as he became calmer he decided, after half a year, 
 to wed a woman who had been of great assistance 
 to hitn in his work for at least fourteen years. 
 
 The remaining span of Berlioz' life was out- 
 wardly more peaceful and happy. He continued 
 to travel and compose. Everywhere he went he 
 was honored and admired. 
 
 Among his later compositions were the Te 
 Deum, "Childhood of Christ," "Lelio," "Beatrice 
 and Benedict" and "The Trojans." 
 
 At last, after what he called thirty years of 
 
Hector Berlioz 
 
Hector Berlioz 221 
 
 slavery, he was able to resign his post of critic. 
 "Thanks to 'The Trojans,' the wretched quill dri- 
 ver is freel" 
 
 A touching episode, told in his vivid way, was 
 the meeting, late in life, with his adored Estelle 
 of the pink shoes. He called on her and found 
 a quiet widow, who had lost both husband and 
 children. They had a poignant hovu- of reminis- 
 cence and corresponded for some time after- 
 wards. 
 
 Hector Berlioz passed away March 8, 1869. 
 The French Institute sent a deputation, the 
 band of the National Guard played selections 
 from his Fimeral Symphony; on the casket lay 
 wreaths from the Saint Cecilia Society, from the 
 youths of Himgary, from Russian nobles and 
 from the town of Grenoble, his old home. 
 
 The music of Berlioz is conceived on large 
 lines, in broad masses of tone color, with new 
 harmonies and imposing eflfects. He won a 
 noble place in art through many trials and hard- 
 ships. His music is the expression, the reflec- 
 tion of the mental struggles of a most intense 
 nature. The future will siu-ely witness a greater 
 appreciation of its merits than has up to now 
 been accorded it. 
 
XIV 
 FRANZ LISZT 
 
 Feanz Liszt, in his day the king of pianists, 
 a composer whose compositions still glow and 
 bum with the fire he breathed into them; Liszt 
 the diplomat, courtier, man of the world — always 
 a conqueror! How difficult to tell, in a few 
 pages, the story of a life so complex and absorb- 
 ing! 
 
 A storm outside: but all was warmth and 
 simple comfort in the large sitting-room of a 
 steward's cottage belonging to the small estate 
 of Raiding, in Hungary. 
 
 It was evening and father Liszt, after the 
 labors of the day were over, could call these 
 precious hours his own. He was now at the old 
 piano, for with him music was a passion. He 
 used all his leisure time for study and had some 
 knowledge of most instruments. He had 
 taught himself the piano, indeed vmder the cir- 
 cumstances had become quite proficient on it. 
 To-night he was playing something of Haydn, 
 for he greatly venerated that master. Adam 
 Liszt made a striking figure as he sat there, his 
 
 222 
 
Franz Liszt 223 
 
 fine head, with its mass of light hair, thrown 
 back, his stern features softened by the music he 
 was making. 
 
 At a table near sat his wife, her dark head with 
 its glossy braids bent over her sewing. Hers 
 was a sweet, 'kmdly face, and she endeared her- 
 self to every one by her simple, unassmning man- 
 ners. 
 
 Quite near the old piano stood little Franz, not 
 yet six. He was absolutely absorbed in the 
 music. The fair curls fell about his childish face 
 and his deep blue eyes were raised to his father, 
 as though the latter were some sort of magician, 
 creating aU this beauty. 
 
 When the music paused, little Franz awoke as 
 from a trance. 
 
 "Did you like that, Franzerl?" asked his father, 
 looking down at him. The child bent his curly 
 head, hardly able to speak. 
 
 "And do you want to be a musician when you 
 grow up ?" Franzerl nodded, then, pointing to a 
 picture of Beethoven hanging on the wall, ex- 
 claimed with beaming eyes: "I want to be such 
 a musician as he is!" 
 
 Adam Liszt had already begun to teach his 
 baby son the elements of music, at the child's 
 earnest and oft-repeated request. He had no 
 real method, being self-taught himself, but in 
 spite of this fact Franz made remarkable prog- 
 ress. He could read the notes and find the keys 
 
224 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 ■ ■■■ ■' ■ I " '■■'■■I- ■ I W illi. 11 ■ H ill—— — — 1— — 1—w ^— M 
 
 with as much ease as though he had practised 
 for years. He had a wonderful ear, and his 
 memory was astonishing. The father hoped his 
 boy would become a great musician, and carry 
 out the dream which he had failed to realize in 
 himself. 
 
 Little Franz was born in the eventful year of 
 1811,— the "jeax of the comet." The night of 
 October 21, the night of his birth, the tail of the 
 meteor seemed to light up the roof of the Liszt 
 home and was regarded as an omen of destiny. 
 His mother used to say he was always cheerful, 
 loving, never naughty but most obedient. The 
 child seemed religious by nature, which feeling 
 was fostered by his good mother. He loved to 
 go to church on Sundays and fast days. The 
 midnight mass on Christmas eve, when Adam 
 Liszt, carrying a lantern, led the way to church 
 along the country road, through the silent night, 
 filled the child's thoughts with mystic awe. 
 
 Those early impressions have doubtless in- 
 fluenced the creations of Liszt, especially that 
 part of his "Christus" entitled "Christmas 
 Oratorio." 
 
 Before Franz was six, as we have seen, he had 
 already begun his musical studies. If not sitting 
 at the piano, he would scribble notes — for he had 
 learned without instruction how to write them 
 long before he knew the letters of the alphabet, 
 or rudiments of writing. His small hands were 
 
Franz Liszt 225 
 
 a source of trouble to him, and he resorted to all 
 kinds of comical expedients, such as sometimes 
 playing extra notes with the tip of his nose. In- 
 deed his ingenuity knew no bounds, when it came 
 to mastering some musical difficulty. 
 
 Franz was an open minded, frank, truth- 
 loving child, always ready to confess his faults, 
 though he seemed to have but few. Strangely 
 enough, though bom an Hungarian, he was 
 never taught to speak his native tongue, which 
 indeed was only used by the peasants. German, 
 the polite language of the country, was alone 
 used in the Liszt home. 
 
 The pronounced musical talent of his boy was 
 a source of pride to Adam Liszt, who spoke of it 
 to all his friends, so that the little fellow began 
 to be called "the artist." The result was that 
 when a concert was to be given at the neighbor- 
 ing Oldenburg, Adam was requested to allow his 
 wonder child to play. 
 
 When Franz, now a handsome boy of nine, 
 heard of the concert, he was overjoyed at the 
 prospect^ of playing in public. It was a happy 
 day for him when he started out with his father 
 for Oldenburg. He was to play a Concerto by 
 Reis, and a Fantaisie of his OAvn, accompanied 
 by the orchestra. In this his first public attempt 
 Franz proved he possessed two quahties neces- 
 sary for success-— talent and will. All who 
 heard him on this occasion were so delighted, tiiat 
 
226 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 Adam then and there made arrangements to 
 give a second concert on his own account, which 
 was attended with as great success as the first. 
 
 The father had now fully made up his mind 
 Franz was to be a musician. He decided to 
 resign his post of steward at Raiding and take 
 the boy to Vienna for further study. 
 
 On the way to Pressburg, the first stop, they 
 halted to call at Eisenstadt, on Prince Esterhazy. 
 The boy played for his delighted host, who gave 
 him every encouragement, even to placing his 
 castle at Pressbm-g at his disposal for a concert. 
 The Princess, too, was most cordial, and gave 
 the boy costly presents when they left. 
 
 At Pressburg Adam Liszt succeeded in arrang- 
 ing a concert which interested all the Hungarian 
 aristocracy of the city. It was given in the spa- 
 cious drawing-rooms of the Prince's palace, and a 
 notable audience was present. Little Franz 
 achieved a triumph that night, because of the 
 fire and originality of his playing. Elegant 
 women showered caresses upon the child and the 
 men were unanimous that such gifts deserved to 
 be cultivated to the utmost without delay. 
 
 When it was learned that father Liszt had not 
 an ample purse, and there would be but little for 
 Franz's further musical education, six Hunga- 
 rian noblemen agreed to raiste a subscription 
 which would provide a yearly income for six 
 years. With this happy prospect in view, which 
 
Franz Liszt 227 
 
 relieved him of further anxiety, the father wrote 
 to Hummel, now in employ of the Court at Wei- 
 mar, asking him to undertake Franz's musical 
 education. Hummel, though a famous pianist, 
 was of a grasping nature; he wrote back that 
 he was willing to accept the talented boy as a 
 pupil, but would charge a louis d'or per lesson! 
 
 As soon as the father and his boy arrived in 
 Vienna, the best teachers were secured for Franz. 
 Carl Czerny was considered head of the piano 
 profession. Czerny had been a pupil of Bee- 
 thoven, and was so overrun with pupils himself, 
 that he at first declined to accept another. But 
 when he heard Franz play, he was so impressed 
 that he at once promised to teach him. His 
 nature was the opposite of Hummel's, for he was 
 most generous to struggling talent. At the end 
 of twelve lessons, when Adam Liszt wished to 
 pay the debt, Czerny would accept nothing, and 
 for the whole period of instruction — a year and 
 a«half — ^he continued to teach Franz gratuitously. 
 
 At first the work with such a strict master of 
 technic as Czerny, was very irksome to the boy, 
 who had been brought up on no method at all, 
 but was allowed free and unrestrained rein. He 
 really had no technical foundation; but since he 
 could read rapidly at sight and could glide over 
 the keys with such astonishing ease, he imagined 
 himself already a great artist. Czerny soon 
 showed him his deficiencies ; proving to him that 
 
228 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 an artist must have clear touch, smoothness of 
 execution and variety of tone. The hoy re- 
 belled at first, but finally settled down to hard 
 study, and the result soon astonished his teacher. 
 For Franz began to acquire a richness of feeling 
 and beauty of tone wonderful for such a child. 
 Salieri became his teacher of theory. He was 
 now made to analyze and play scores, also com- 
 pose little pieces and short hymns. In all these 
 the boy made fine progress. 
 
 He now began to reahze he needed to know 
 something besides music, and set to work by 
 himself to read, study and write. He also had 
 great opportunity, through his noble Hunga- 
 rian patrons, to meet the aristocracy of Vienna. 
 His talents, vivacity and grace, his attractive 
 personality, all helped to win the notice of 
 ladies — even in those early days of his career. 
 
 After eighteen busy months in Vienna, father 
 Liszt decided to bring his boy out in a public 
 concert. The Town Hall was placed at his dis- 
 posal and a number of fine artists assisted. 
 With beaming face and sparkling eyes, the boy 
 played with more skill, fire and confidence than 
 he had ever done before. The concert took place 
 December 1, 1822. On January 12, 1823, Franz 
 repeated his success in another concert, again 
 at the Town Hall. 
 
 It was after this second concert that Franz's 
 reputation reached the ears of Beethoven, always 
 
Franz Liszt 229 
 
 the object of the boy's warmest admiration. 
 Several times Franz and his father had tried to 
 see the great master, but without success. 
 Schindler was appealed to and promised to do 
 his best. He wrote in Beethoven's diary, as the 
 master was quite deaf: 
 
 "Little Liszt has entreated me to beg you to 
 write him a theme for to-morrow's concert. He 
 wUl not break the seal tiU the concert begins. 
 Czemy is his teacher — ^the boy is only eleven 
 years old. Do come to his concert, it wiU en- 
 courage the child. Promise me you will come." 
 
 It was the thirteenth of April, 1823. A very 
 large audience fiUed the Redouten Saal. When 
 Franz stepped upon the platform, he perceived 
 the great Beethoven seated near. A great joy 
 filled him. Now he was to play for the great 
 man, whom all his yoimg life he had worshiped 
 from afar. He put forth every effort to be 
 worthy of such an honor. Never had he played 
 with such fire ; his whole being seemed thrilled — 
 never had he achieved such success. In the ad- 
 miration which followed, Beethoven rose, came 
 upon the platform, clasped the boy in his arms 
 and kissed him repeatedly, to the frantic cheers 
 of the audience. 
 
 The boy Franz Liszt had now demonstrated 
 that already at eleven years old, he was one of 
 the leading virtuosi of the time; indeed his great 
 reputation as a pianist dates from this third 
 
230 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 Vienna concert. The press praised him highly, 
 and many compared him to the wonderful genius, 
 Mozart. Adam Liszt wished him now to see 
 more of the world, and make known his great 
 talents, also to study further. He decided to 
 take the boy to Paris, for there hved the cele- 
 brated composer, Cherubini, at that time Director 
 of the Paris Conservatoire. 
 
 On the way to Paris, concerts were given in 
 various cities. In Munich he was acclaimed "a 
 second Mozart." In Strassburg and Stuttgart 
 he had great success. 
 
 Arrived in Paris, father and son visited the 
 Conservatoire at once, for it would have been a 
 fine thing for the boy to study there for a time, 
 as it was the best known school for counterpoint 
 and composition. Cherubini, however, refused 
 to even read the letters of recommendation, say- 
 ing no foreigner, however talented, could be ad- 
 mitted to the French National School of Music. 
 Franz was deeply hurt by this refusal, and 
 begged with tears to be aUowed to come, but 
 Cherubini was immovable. 
 
 However they soon made the acquaintance 
 of Ferdinand Paer, who offered to give the child 
 lessons in composition. 
 
 Franz made wonderful progress, both in this 
 new line of study, and in becoming known as 
 a piano virtuoso. Having played in a few 
 of the great houses, he soon found himself the 
 
Franz Liszt 231 
 
 fashion; everybody was anxious for "le petit Litz" 
 as he was called, to attend and play at their 
 soirees. Franz thus met the most distinguished 
 musicians of the day. When he played in public 
 the press indulged in extravagant praise, calling 
 him "the eighth wonder of the world," "another 
 Mozart," and the like. Of course the father was 
 overjoyed that his fondest hopes were being 
 realized. Franz stood at the head of the vir- 
 tuosi, and in composition he was making rapid 
 strides. He even attempted an operetta, "Don 
 Sancho," which later had several performances. 
 
 The eminent piano maker, Erard, who had a 
 branch business in London and was about to 
 start for that city, invited Liszt to accompany 
 him and bring Franz. They accepted this plan, 
 but in order to save expense, it was decided that 
 mother Liszt, who had joined them in Paris, 
 should return to Austria and stay with a sister 
 till the projected tours were over. 
 
 Franz was saddened by this decision, but his 
 entreaties were useless; his father was stern. 
 The separation was a cruel one for the boy. For 
 a long time thereafter the mere mention of his 
 mother's name would bring tears. 
 
 In May, 1824, father and son, with Erard, 
 started for England, and on June 21 Franz 
 gave his first public concert in London. He had 
 already played for the aristocracy in private 
 homes, and had appeared at Couf t by command 
 
232 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 of King George IV. The concert won him 
 great success, though the English were more 
 reserved in their demonstrations, and not like 
 the impulsive, open-hearted French people. He 
 was happy to retiirn to Paris, after the London 
 season, and to resume his playing in the French 
 salons. 
 
 The next spring, accompanied by his father, 
 he made a tour of the French provinces, and then 
 set out for a second trip to England. He was 
 now fourteen; a mere boy in years, but called the 
 greatest pianist of the day. He had developed 
 'So quickly and was so precocious that already he 
 disliked being called "le petit Litz," for he felt 
 himself full grown. He wished to be free to act 
 as he wished. Ad^m, however, kept a strict watch 
 on aU his movements, and this became irksome 
 to the boy, who felt he was already a man. 
 
 But father Liszt's health became somewhat 
 precarious; constant traveling had undermined 
 it. They remained in Paris quietly, till the 
 year 1826, when they started on a second tovu* 
 of French cities tUl Marseilles was reached, 
 where the young pianist's success was overwhelm- 
 ing. 
 
 Returning to Paris, Franz devoted much 
 of his time to ardent study of counterpoint, im- 
 der Anton Reicha. In six months' study he had 
 Doastered the difficulties of this intricate art. 
 
 Adam Liszt and Franz spent the winter of 
 
Franz Liszt 283 
 
 1826-7 in Switzerland, the boy playing in all im- 
 portant cities. They returned to Paris in the 
 spring, and in May, set out again for England 
 on a third visit. Franz gave his first concert 
 in London on June ninth and proved how much 
 he had gained in power and brilliancy. Mos- 
 cheles, who was present, wrote: "Franz Liszt's 
 playing svirpasses in power and the overcoming 
 of difficulties anything that has yet been heard." 
 
 The strain of constant travel and concert play- 
 ing was seriously telling on the boy's sensitive, 
 excitable nature. He lost his sunny gaiety, 
 grew quiet, sometimes almost morose. He went 
 much to chm-ch, and wanted to take orders, but 
 his father prevented this step. Indeed the 
 father became alarmed at the boy's pale face 
 and changed condition, and took him to the 
 French watering place of Boulogne-sur-Mer. 
 Here both father and son were benefited by the 
 sea baths and absolute rest. Franz recovered 
 his genial spirits and constantly gained in health 
 and strength. 
 
 But with Adam Liszt the gain was only tem- 
 porary. He was attacked with a fever, suc- 
 cimibed in a few days and was buried at Bou- 
 logne. The loss of his father was a great blow 
 to Franz. He was prostrated for days, but 
 youth at last conquered. Aroused to his re- 
 sponsibilities, he began to think for the future. 
 He at once wrote his mother, telling her what 
 
234 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 had happened, saying he would give up his con- 
 cert tours and make a home for her in Paris, by 
 giving piano lessons. 
 
 Looking closer into his finances, of which he 
 had no care before, Franz found the expenses 
 of his father's illness and death had exhausted 
 their little savings, and he was really in debt. 
 He decided to sell his grand piano, so that he 
 should be in debt to no one. This was done, 
 every one was paid off and on his arrival in Paris 
 his old friend Erard invited him to his own home 
 till the mother came. 
 
 It was a sweet and happy meeting of mother 
 and son, after such a long separation. The two 
 soon found a modest apartment in the Riie Mon- 
 tholon. 
 
 As soon as his intention to give lessons be- 
 came known, many aristocratic pupils came and 
 found him a remarkable teacher. Among his 
 new pupils was Caroline Saint Cricq, youngest 
 daughter of Count Saint Cricq, then Minister 
 of the Interior, and Madame his wife. 
 
 Caroline, scarcely seventeen, the same age as 
 her young teacher, was a beautiful girl, as pure 
 and refined as she was talented. Under the 
 eyes of the Countess, the lessons went on from 
 month to month, and the mother did not fail to 
 see the growing attachment between the young 
 people. But love's young dream was of short 
 duration. The Coimtess fell ill and the lessons 
 
Franz Liszt 285 
 
 had to be discontinued. Caroline did not see her 
 devoted teacher tUl all was over. 
 
 There was now another bond between them, 
 the sympathy over the loss of their dear ones. 
 The Count had requested that the lessons should 
 be resumed. But when the young teacher re- 
 mained too long in converse with his pupil after 
 the lessons, he was dismissed by the Count, and 
 all their sweet intercourse came to an abrupt 
 end. 
 
 Mme. Liszt did all she could to soothe the 
 grief and despair of her son. For days and 
 weeks he remained at home, neglecting his piano 
 and his work. He again thought of the church 
 with renewed ardor and told his mother he now 
 had decided to become a monk. His spirits 
 sank very low; he became ill, unable to leave 
 the house and it was reported everywhere he had 
 passed away. 
 
 Again he rallied and his strong constitution 
 conquered. As strength slowly retmned, so 
 also did his activity and love of life. 
 
 During his long convalescence he was seized 
 with a great desire for knowledge, and read 
 everything he could lay hands on. He would 
 often sit at the piano, busying his fingers with 
 technic while reading a book on the desk before 
 him. He had formerly given all his time to 
 music and languages; now he must know liter- 
 ature, politics, history and exact sciences. A 
 
236 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 word casually dropped in conversation, would 
 start him on a new line of reading. Then came 
 the revolution of 1830. Everybody talked poli- 
 tics, and Franz, with his excitable spirits, would 
 have rushed into the conflict if his mother had 
 not restrained him. 
 
 With all this awakening he sought to broaden 
 his art, to make his instrument speak of higher 
 things. Indeed the spirit must speak through 
 the form. This he realized the more as he lis- 
 tened to the thrilling performances of that wiz- 
 ard of the violin, Paganini, who appeared in 
 Paris in 1831. This style of playing made a 
 deep impression on Liszt. He now tried to do 
 on the piano what Paganini accomplished on the 
 violin, in the matter of tone quality and in- 
 tensity. He procured the newly published 
 Caprices for violin and tried to learn their tonal 
 secrets, also transcribing the pieces for piano. 
 
 Liszt became fast friends with the young com- 
 poser, Hector Berlioz, and much influenced by 
 his compositions, which were along new harmonic 
 lines. Chopin, the young Polish artist, now ap- 
 peared in Paris, playing his E minor Concerto, 
 his Mazurkas and Nocturnes, revealing new 
 phases of art. Chopin's calm composure tran- 
 quilized Liszt's excitable nature. From Chopin, 
 Liszt learned to "express in music the poetry of 
 the aristocratic salon." Liszt ever remained a 
 
Franz Liszt 237 
 
 true and admiring friend of the Pole, and wrote 
 the poetic study sketch of him in 1849. 
 
 Liszt was now twenty-three. Broadened and 
 chastened by all he had passed through, he re- 
 sumed his playing in aristocratic homes. He 
 also appeared in public and was found to be quite 
 a different artist from what the Parisians had 
 previously known. His bold new harmonies in 
 his own compositions, the rich effects, showed a 
 deep knowledge of his art. He had transcribed 
 a number of Berlioz's most striking compositions 
 to the piano and performed them with great 
 effect. 
 
 The handsome and gifted young artist was 
 everywhere the object of admiration. He also 
 met (Jeorge Sand, and was soon numbered 
 among that wonderful and dangerous woman's 
 best friends. Later he met the young and 
 beautiful Countess Laprunarede, and a mutual 
 attraction ensued. The elderly Coimt, her hus- 
 band, pleased with the dashing young musician, 
 invited him to spend the winter at his chateau, 
 in Switzerland, where the witty Countess virtu- 
 ally kept him prisoner. 
 
 The following winter, 1833-34, when the salons 
 opened again, Liszt frequented them as before. 
 He was in the bloom of youth and fame, when he 
 met the woman whe was to be linked with his 
 destiny for the next ten years. 
 
238 Story-hives of Master Musicians 
 
 We have sketched the childhood and youth of 
 this wonderful artist up to this point. We will 
 pass lightly over this decade of his career, merely 
 stating briefly that the lady — the beautiful 
 Countess d'Agoult, captivated by the brilliant 
 talents of the Hungarian virtuoso, left her hus- 
 band and child, and became for ten years the 
 faithful companion of his travels and tours over 
 Europe. Many writers agree that Liszt en- 
 deavored to dissuade her from this attraction, and 
 behaved as honorably as he could under the cir- 
 cumstances. A part of the time they lived in 
 Switzerland, and it was there that many of Liszt*s 
 compositions were written. 
 
 Of their three children, the boy died very 
 young. Of the girls, Blandine became the wife 
 of i^mile OUivier, a French literary man and 
 statesman. Her sister, Cosima, married first 
 Hans von Biilow and later Richard Wagner. 
 
 In 1843 Liszt intended to take Madame with 
 him to Russia, but instead, left her and her chil- 
 dren in Paris, with his mother, as the Countess 
 was in failing health. His first concert, in St. 
 Petersburg, realized the enormous sum of fifty 
 thousand francs — ^ten thousand dollars. In- 
 stead of giving one concert in Moscow, he gave 
 six. Later he played in Bavaria, Saxony and 
 other parts of Germany. He then settled in 
 Weimar for a time, being made Grand Ducal 
 Capellmeister. Then, in 18441-45, longing for 
 
Franz Liszt 239 
 
 more success, he toured Spain and Portugal. 
 
 A generous act was his labor in behalf of the 
 Beethoven monument, to be erected in the 
 master's birthplace, Bonn. The monument was 
 to be given by subscriptions from the various 
 Princes of Germany. Liszt helped make up the 
 deficit and came to Bonn to organize a Festival 
 in honor of the event. He also composed a Can- 
 tata for the opening day of the Festival, and in 
 his enthusiasm nearly ruined himself by paying 
 the heavy expenses of the Festival out of his own 
 pocket. 
 
 The political events of 1848 brought him 
 back to Weimar, and he resumed his post of 
 Court Music Director. He now directed his 
 energies toward making Weimar the first musi- 
 cal city of Germany. Greatly admiring Wag- 
 ner's genius, he undertook to perform his works 
 in Weimar, and to spread his name and fame. 
 Indeed it is not too much to say that without 
 Liszt's devoted efforts, Wagner would never 
 have attained his vogue and fame. Wagner 
 himself testified to this. 
 
 While living in Weimar, Liszt made frequent 
 journeys to Rome and to Paris. In 1861 there 
 was a rumor that the object of his visits to Rome 
 was to gain Papal consent to his marriage with 
 the Princess Sayn-Wittgenstein. During a 
 visit to Rome in 1864, the musician was unable 
 to resist longer the mysticism of the church. He 
 
240 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 decided to take orders and was made an Abbe. 
 
 Since that time. Abbe Franz Liszt did much 
 composing. He also continued to teach the 
 piano to great numbers of pupils, who flocked to 
 him from all parts of the world. Many of the 
 greatest artists now before the public were num- 
 bered among his students, and owe much of their 
 success to his artistic guidance. 
 
 In 1871, the Hungarian Cabinet created him a 
 noble, with a yearly pension of three thousand 
 dollars. In 1875, he was made Director of the 
 Academy at Budapest. In addition, Liszt was 
 a member of nearly all the European Orders of 
 Chivalry. 
 
 Franz Liszt passed away August 1, 1886, in 
 the house of his friend, Herr Frohlich, near 
 Wagner's Villa Wahnfried, Bayreuth, at the 
 age of seventy-five. As was his custom every 
 summer, Liszt was in Bayreuth, assisting in the 
 production of Wagner's masterpieces, when he 
 succumbed to pneumonia. Thus passed a great 
 composer, a world famous piano virtuoso, and a 
 noble and kindly spirit. 
 
 For the piano, his chosen instrumtent, Liszt 
 wrote much that was beautiful and inspiring. 
 He created a new epoch for the virtuoso. His 
 fifteen Hungarian Rhapsodies, B minor Sonata, 
 Concert Etudes and many transcriptions, ap- 
 pear on all modem programs, and there are 
 many pieces yet to be made known. He is the 
 
Franz Liszt 241 
 
 originator of the Symphonic Poem, for 
 orchestra; while his sacred music, such as the 
 Oratorio "Christus," and the beautiful "Saint 
 Elizabeth," a sacred opera, are monuments to his 
 great genius. 
 
XV 
 
 GIUSEPPE VERDI 
 
 In the little hamlet of Le Roncole, at the foot 
 of the Apeninnes, a place that can hardly be 
 found on the map, because it is just a cluster of 
 workmen's houses, Giuseppe Verdi, one of the 
 greatest operatic composers, was bom, October 
 9, 1813. 
 
 There were great wars going on in Europe 
 during that time. When Giuseppe was a year 
 old, the Russian and Austrian soldiers marched 
 through Italy, killing and destroying every- 
 where. Some of them came to Le Roncole for a 
 few hours. All the women and children ran to 
 the church and locked themselves in for safety. 
 But these savage men had no respect for the 
 house of God. They took the hinges off the 
 doors and rushing in murdered and woimded the 
 helpless ones. Luigia Verdi, with the baby 
 Giuseppe in her arms, escaped, ran up a narrow 
 staircase to the belfry, and hid herself and child 
 among some old lumber. Here she stayed in 
 her hiding place, until the drunken troops were 
 far away from the little village. 
 
 242 
 
GiusEppi Vkrw 
 
Giuseppe Verdi 243 
 
 The babe Giuseppe was bom among very 
 poor, ignorant working people, though his 
 father's house was one of the best known and 
 most frequented among the cluster of cottages. 
 His parents Carlo Verdi and Luigia his wife, 
 kept a small inn at Le Roncole and also a little 
 shop, where they sold sugar, coffee, matches, 
 spirits, tobacco and clay pipes. Once a week the 
 good Carlo would walk up to Busseto, three 
 miles away, with two empty baskets and would 
 return with them filled with articles for his store, 
 carrying them slung across his strong shoulders. 
 
 Giuseppe Verdi who was to produce such 
 streams of beautiful, sparkling music, — needing 
 an Act of Parliament to stop them, as once hap- 
 pened, — ^was a very quiet, thoughtful little 
 fellow, always good and obedient; sometimes 
 almost sad, and seldom joined in the boisterous 
 games of other children. That serious expres- 
 sion found in all of Verdi's portraits as a man 
 was even noticeable in the chUd. The only time 
 he would rouse up, was when a hand organ 
 would come through the village street; then he 
 would follow it as far as his little legs would 
 carry him, and nothing could keep him in the 
 house, when he heard this music. Intelligent, 
 reserved and quiet, every one loved him. 
 
 In 1820, when Giuseppe was seven years old, 
 Carlo Verdi committed a great extravagance for 
 an innkeeper; he bought a spinet for his son. 
 
244 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 something very unheard of for so poor a man to 
 do. 
 
 Little Giuseppe practised very diligently on 
 his spinet. At first he could only play the first 
 five notes of the scale. Next he tried very hard 
 to find out chords, and one day was made per- 
 fectly happy at having sounded the major third 
 and fifth of C. But the next day he could not 
 find the chord again, and began to fret and fume 
 and got into such a temper, that he took a 
 hammer and tried to break the spinet in pieces. 
 This made such a commotion that it brought his 
 father into the room. When he saw what the 
 child was doing, he gave a blow on Giuseppe's 
 ear that brought the little feUow to his senses at 
 once. He saw he could not punish the good 
 spinet because he did not know enough to strike 
 a common chord. 
 
 His love of music early showed itseK in many 
 ways. One day he was assisting the parish 
 priest at mass in the little church of Le Roncok. 
 At the moment of the elevation of the Host, such 
 sweet harmonies were sounding from the organ, 
 that the child stood perfectly motionless, listening 
 to the beautiful music, all vmconscious of every- 
 thing else about him. 
 
 "Water," said the priest to the altar boy. 
 Giuseppe, not hearing him, the priest repeated 
 the call. Still the child, who was listening to the 
 music, did not hear. "Water," said the priest 
 
Giuseppe Verdi 245 
 
 a third time and gave Giuseppe such a sharp 
 kick that he fell down the steps of the altar, 
 hitting his head on the stone floor, and was taken 
 unconscious into the sacristy. 
 
 After this Giuseppe was allowed to have music 
 lessons with Baistrocchi, the organist of the 
 village church. At the end of a year Baistrocchi 
 said there was nothing more he could teach his 
 young pupil, so the lessons came to an end. 
 
 Two years later, when old Baistrocchi died, 
 Giuseppe, who was then only ten, was made 
 organist in his place. This pleased his parents 
 very much, but his father felt the boy should be 
 sent to school, where he could learn to read and 
 write and know something of arithmetic. This 
 would have been quite impossible had not Carlo 
 Verdi had a good friend living at Busseto, a shoe- 
 maker, named Pugnatta. 
 
 Pugnatta agreed to give Giuseppe board and 
 lodging and send him to the best school in the 
 town, all for a small sum of three pence a day. 
 Giuseppe went to Pugnatta's ; and while he was 
 always in his place in school and studied dili- 
 gently, he still kept his situation as organist of 
 Le Roncole, walking there every Sunday morn- 
 ing and back again to Busseto after the evening 
 service. 
 
 His pay as organist was very small, but he 
 also made a little money playing for weddings, 
 christenings and funerals. He also gained a 
 
246 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 few lire from a collection which it was the 
 habit of artists to make at harvest time, for which 
 he had to trudge from door to door, with a sack 
 upon his back. The poor boy's hfe had few 
 comforts, and this custom of collections brought 
 him into much danger. One night while he was 
 walking toward Le Roncole, very tired and 
 hungry, he did not notice he had taken a wrong 
 path, when suddenly, missing his footing, he fell 
 into a deep canal. It was very dark and very 
 cold and his limbs were so stiff he could not use 
 them. Had it not been for an old woman who 
 was passing by the place and heard his cries, the 
 exhausted and chilled boy would have been 
 carried away by the current. 
 
 After two years' schooling, Giuseppe's father 
 persuaded his friend, Antonio Barezzi of Bus- 
 seto, from whom he was in the habit of buying 
 wines and supplies for his inn and shop, — to take 
 the lad into his warehouse. That was a happy 
 day for Giuseppe when he went to live with 
 Barezzi, who was an enthusiastic amateur of 
 music. The Philharmonic Society, of which 
 Barezzi was the president, met, rehearsed and 
 gave all its concerts at his house. 
 
 Giuseppe, though working hard in the ware- 
 house, also found time to attend all the rehearsals 
 of the Philharmonics, and began the task of copy- 
 ing out separate parts from the score. His 
 earnestness in this work attracted the notice of 
 
Giuseppe Verdi 247 
 
 the conductor, Ferdinando Pfovesi, who began 
 to take great interest in the boy, and was the first 
 one to understand his talent and advised him to 
 devote himself to music. A Canon in the Cathe- 
 dral offered to teach him Latin, and tried/ to 
 make a priest of him, saying, "What do you want 
 to study music for? You have a gift for Latin 
 and it would be much better for you to become a 
 priest. What do you expect from your music? 
 Do you think that some day you will become 
 organist of Busseto? Stuff and nonsense! 
 That can never be." 
 
 A short time after this, there was a mass at a 
 chapel in Busseto, where the Canon had the 
 service. The organist was unable to attend, and 
 Verdi was called at the last moment to take his 
 place. Very much impressed with the unusually 
 beautiful organ music, the priest, at the close of 
 the service desired to see the organist. His 
 astonishment was great when he saw his scholar 
 whom he had been seeking to turn from the 
 study of music. "Whose music did you play?" 
 he asked. "It was most beautiful." 
 
 "Why," timidly answered the boy, "I had no 
 music, I was playing extempore — just as I felt." 
 
 "Ah, indeed," replied the Canon; "well I am 
 a fool and you cannot do better than to study 
 music, take my word for it." 
 
 Under the good Provesi, Verdi studied until 
 he was sixteen and made such rapid progress 
 
248 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 that both Proves! and Barezzi felt he must be 
 sent to Milan to study further. The lad had 
 often come to the help of his master, both at the 
 organ and as conductor of the Philharmonic. 
 The records of the society still have several 
 works written by Verdi at that time — ^when he 
 was sixteen — composed, copied, taught, rehearsed 
 and conducted by him. 
 
 There was an institution in Busseto called the 
 Monte di Pieta, which gave four scholarships of 
 three himdred francs a year, each given for four 
 years to promising young men needing money to 
 study science or art. Through Barezzi one of 
 these scholarships was given to Verdi, it being 
 arranged that he should have six hundred francs 
 a year for two years, instead of three hundred 
 francs for four years. Barezzi himself ad- 
 vanced the money for the music lessons, board 
 and lodging in Milan and the priest gave him a 
 letter of introduction to his nephew, a professor 
 there, who received him with a hearty welcome, 
 and insisted upon his living with him. 
 
 Like all large music schools, there were a 
 great many who presented themselves for admit- 
 tance by scholarship and only one to be chosen. 
 And Verdi did not happen to be that one, Basili 
 not considering his compositions of sufficient 
 worth. This was not because Verdi was really 
 lacking in his music, but because Basili had 
 pther plans, This did not in the least dis- 
 
Giuseppe Verdi 249 
 
 courage Giuseppe, and at the suggestion of 
 Alessando RoUa, who was then conductor of La 
 Scala, he asked Lavigna to give him lessons in 
 composition and orchestration. 
 
 Lavigna was a former pupil of the Conserva- 
 toire of Naples and an able composer. Verdi 
 showed him some of the same compositions he 
 had shown Basili. After examining them he 
 willingly accepted the young aspirant as a pupil. 
 
 Verdi spent most of his evenings at the home 
 of the master, when Lavigna was not at La 
 Scala and there met many artists. One night it 
 chanced that Lavigna, Basili and Verdi were 
 alone, and the two masters were speaking of the 
 deplorable result of a competition for the posi- 
 tion of Maitre di Capelle and organist of the 
 Church of San Giovanni di Monza. Out of 
 twenty-eight young men who had taken part in 
 the competition, not one had known how to 
 develop correctly the subject given by Basili 
 for the construction of a fugue. Lavigna, with 
 a bit of mischief in his eyes, began to say to his 
 friend: — "It is really a remarkable fact. Well, 
 look at Verdi, who has studied fugue for two 
 short years. I lay a wager he would have done 
 better than your eight and twenty candidates." 
 
 "Really?" replied Basili, in a somewhat 
 vexed tone. 
 
 "Certainly. Do you remember your subject? 
 Yes, you do? Well, write it down." 
 
250 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 Basili wrote and Lavigne, giving the theme 
 to Verdi, said : 
 
 "Sit down there at the tahle and just begin to 
 worktiut this subject.'* 
 
 Then the two friends resumed their conversa- 
 tion, until Verdi, coming to them said simply: 
 "There, it is done." 
 
 Basili took the paper and examined it, show- 
 ing signs of astonishment as he continued to read. 
 When he came to the conclusion he complimented 
 the lad and said: "But how is it that you have 
 written a double canon on my subject?" 
 
 "It is because I found it rather poor and 
 wished to embellish it," Verdi replied, remember- 
 ing the reception he had had at the Conservatoire. 
 
 In 1833 his old master Provesi died. Verdi 
 felt the loss keenly, for Provesi was the one who 
 first taught him music and who showed him how 
 to work to become an artist. Though he wished 
 to do greater things, he returned to Busseto to 
 fulfill his promise to take Provesi's place as 
 organist of the Cathedral and conductor of the 
 Philharmonic, rather big positions to fill for a 
 young man of twenty. 
 
 And now Verdi fell in love with the beautiful 
 Margherita, the oldest daughter of Barezzi, who 
 did not mind giving his daughter to a poor 
 yoimg man, for Verdi possessed something 
 worth far more than money, and that was great 
 musical talent. The young people were 
 
Giuseppe Verdi 251 
 
 married in 1836, and the whole Philharmonic 
 Society attended. 
 
 About the year 1833-34 there flourished in 
 Milan a vocal society called the Philharmonic, 
 composed of excellent singers xmder the leader- 
 ship of Masini. Soon after Verdi came to the 
 city, the Society was preparing for a perform- 
 ance of Haydn's "Creation." Lavigna, with 
 whom the young composer was studying com- 
 position, suggested his pupil should attend the 
 rehearsals, to which he gladly agreed. It seems 
 that three Maestri shared the conducting during 
 rehearsals. One day none of them were present 
 at the appointed hour and Masini asked young 
 Verdi to accompany from the full orchestral 
 score, adding, "It will be sufficient if you merely 
 play the bass." Verdi took his place at the 
 piano without the slightest hesitation. The 
 slender, rather shabby looking stranger was not 
 calculated to inspire much confidence. How- 
 ever he soon warmed to his work, and after a 
 while grew so excited that he played the accom- 
 paniment with the left hand while conducting 
 vigorously with the right. The rehearsal went 
 off splendidly, and many came forward to greet 
 the young conductor, among them were Counts 
 Pompeo Belgiojoso and Remato Borromes. 
 After this proof of his ability, Verdi was ap- 
 pointed to conduct the public performance, 
 which was such a success that it was repeated by 
 
252 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 general request, and was attended by the highest 
 sodety. 
 
 Soon after this Count Borromes engaged 
 Verdi to write a Cantata for chorus and or- 
 chestra, to honor the occasion of a marriage in 
 the family. Verdi did so but was never paid a 
 sou for his work. The next request was from 
 Masini, who urged Verdi to compose an opera 
 for the Teatro Filodramatico, where he was con- 
 ductor. He handed him a libretto, which with a 
 few alterations here and there became "Oberto, 
 Conte di San Bonifacio." Verdi accepted the 
 offer at once, and being obliged to move to Bus- 
 seto, where he had been appointed organist, re- 
 mained there nearly three years, dm-ing which 
 time the opera was completed. On returning to 
 Milan he found Masini no longer conductor, and 
 lost all hope of seeing the new opera produced. 
 After long waiting however, the impressario sent 
 for him, and promised to bring out the work the 
 next season, if the composer would make a few 
 changes. Young and as yet unknown, Verdi 
 was quite willing. "Oberto" was produced with 
 a fair amount of success, and repeated several 
 times. On the strength of this propitious begin- 
 ning, the impressario, Merelli, made the young 
 composer an excellent offer — to write three 
 operas, one every eight months, to be performed 
 either in Milan or in Vienna, where he was im- 
 pressario of both the principal theaters. He 
 
Giuseppe Verdi 253 
 
 promised to pay four thousand lire — about six 
 hundred and seventy dollars— for each, and 
 share the profits of the copyright. To young 
 Verdi this seemed an excellent chance and he ac» 
 cepted at once. Rossi wrote a libretto, entitled 
 "Proscritto," and work on the music was about 
 to begin. In the spring of 1840, Merelli hurried 
 from Vienna, saying he needed a comic opera for 
 the autunm season, and wanted work begun on it 
 at once. He produced three librettos, none of 
 them very good. Verdi did not like them, but 
 since there was no time to lose, chose the least 
 offensive and set to work. 
 
 The Verdis were living in a small house near 
 the Porta Ticinesa; the family consisted of the 
 composer, his wife and two httle sons. Almost 
 as soon as work was begun on the comic opera, 
 Verdi fell ill and was confined to his bed several 
 days. He had quite forgotten that the rent 
 money, which he always liked to have ready on 
 the very day, was due, and he had not sufficient 
 to pay. It was too late to borrow it, but quite 
 unknown to him the wife had taken some of her 
 most valuable trinkets, had gone out and 
 brought back the necessary amount. This 
 sweet act of devotion greatly touched her hus- 
 band. 
 
 And now sudden sorrow swept over the little 
 family. At the beginning of April one of the 
 little boys fell ill. Before the doctors could 
 
254 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 understand what was the matter, the little fellow 
 breathed his last in the arms of his desperate 
 mother. A few days after this, the other child 
 sickened and died. In Jime the young wife, un- 
 able to bear the strain, passed away and Verdi 
 saw the third coffin leave his door carrying the 
 last of his dear ones. And in the midst of these 
 crushing trials he was expected to compose a 
 comic opera! But he bravely completed his task. 
 "Un Giomo di Regno" naturally proved a dead 
 failure. In the despondency that followed, the 
 composer resolved to give up composition alto- 
 gether. Merelli scolded him roundly for such a 
 decision, and promised if, some day, he chose to 
 take up his pen again, he would, if given two 
 months' notice, produce any opera Verdi might 
 write. 
 
 At that time the composer was not ready to 
 change his mind. He could not live longer in 
 the house filled with so many sad memories, but 
 moved to a new residence near the Corsia di 
 Servi. One evening on the street, he ran against 
 Merelli, who was hmrying to the theater. With- 
 out stopping he linked his arm in that of the 
 composer and made him keep pace. The 
 manager was in the depths of woe. He had 
 secured a libretto by Solera, which was "wonder- 
 ful, marvelous, extraordinary, grand," but the 
 composer he had engaged did not like it. What 
 was to be done? Verdi bethought him of the 
 
Giuseppe Verdi 255 
 
 libretto "Proscritto," which Rossi had once 
 written for him, and he had not used. He sug- 
 gested this to Merelli. Rossi was at once sent 
 for and produced a copy of the libretta Then 
 Merelli laid the other manuscript before Verdi. 
 "Look, here is Solera's libretto; such a beautiful 
 subject! Take it home and read it over." But 
 Verdi refused. "No, no, I am in no humor to 
 read librettos." 
 
 "It won't hurt you to look at it," urged 
 Merelli, and thrust it into the coat pocket of the 
 reluctant composer. 
 
 On reaching home, Verdi pulled the manu- 
 script out and threw it on the writing table. As 
 he did so a stanza from the book caught his eye ; 
 it was almost a paraphrase from the Bible, 
 which had been such a solace to him in his solitary 
 life. He began to read the story and was more 
 and more enthralled by it, yet his resolution to 
 write no more was not altered. However, as 
 the days passed there would be here a line written 
 down, there a melody — ^untU at last, almost un- 
 consciously the opera of "Nabucco" came into 
 being. 
 
 The opera once finished, Verdi hastened to 
 Merelli, and reminded him of his promise. 
 The impressario was quite honorable about it, 
 but would not agree to bring the opera out until 
 Easter, for the season of 1841-42, was already 
 arranged. Verdi refused to wait until Easter, 
 
256 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 as he knew the best singers would not then be 
 available. After many arguments and disputes, 
 it was finally arranged that "Nabuceo" should 
 be put on, but without extra outlay for 
 mounting. At the end of February 1842, re- 
 hearsals began and on March ninth the first per- 
 formance took place. 
 
 The success of "Nabucco" was remarkable. 
 No such "first night" had been known in La 
 Scala for many years. "I had hoped for suc- 
 cess," said the composer, "but such a success — 
 never!" 
 
 The next day all Italy talked of Verdi. Doni- 
 zetti, W'hose wealth of melodious music swayed 
 the Itahans as it did later the English, was so 
 impressed by it that he continually repeated, "It 
 is fine, uncommonly fine." 
 
 With the success of "Nabucco" Verdi's career 
 as a com.poser may be said to have begun. In 
 the following year "I Lombardi" was pro- 
 duced, followed by "Emani." Then came in 
 quick succession ten more operas, among them 
 "Attila" and "Macbeth." 
 
 In 1847, we find Verdi in London, where on 
 July 2, at Her Majesty's Theater, "I 
 Masnadieri" was brought out, with a cast includ- 
 ing Lablanche, Gardoni, Colletti, and above all 
 Jenny Lind, in a part composed expressly for 
 her. AH the artists distinguished themselves; 
 Jenny Lind acted admirably and sang her airs 
 
Giuseppe Verdi 257 
 
 exquisitely, but the opera was not a success. No 
 two critics could agree as to its merits. Verdi 
 left England in disgust and took his music to 
 other cities. 
 
 The advantage to Verdi of his trips through 
 Europe and to England is shown in "Rigoletto," 
 brought out in Vienna in 1851. In this opera 
 his true power manifests itself. The music 
 shows great advance in declamation, which lifts 
 it above the ordinary Itahan style of that time. 
 With this opera Verdi's second period begins. 
 Two years later "Trovatore" was produced in 
 Rome and had a tremendous success. Each 
 scene brought down thunders of applause, until 
 the very walls resounded and outside people took 
 up the cry, "Long live Verdi, Italy's greatest 
 composer! Vive Verdi I" It was given in Paris 
 in 1854, and in London the following year. In 
 1855, "La Traviata" was produced in Vienna. 
 This work, so filled with delicate, beautiful music, 
 nearly proved a failure, because the consvmaptive 
 heroine, who expires on the stage, was sung by a 
 prima donna of such extraordinary stoutness 
 that the scene was received with shouts of 
 laughter. After a number of unsuccessful 
 operas, "Un Ballo in Maschera" scored a success 
 in Rome in 1859, and "La Forza del Destino," 
 written for Petrograd, had a recent revival in 
 New York. 
 
 When Rossini passed away, November 13, 
 
258 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 1868, Verdi suggested a requiem should be 
 written jointly by the best Italian composers. 
 The work was completed, but was not satisfactory 
 on account of the diversity of styles. It was 
 then proposed that Verdi write the entire work 
 himself. The death of Manzoni soon after this 
 caused the composer to carry out the idea. Thus 
 the great "Manzoni Requiem" came into being. 
 
 In 1869, the Khedive of Egypt had a fine 
 opera house built in Cairo, and commissioned 
 Verdi to write an opera having an Egyptian 
 subject, for the opening. The ever popular 
 "Aida" was then composed and brought out in 
 1871, with great success. This proved to be the 
 beginning of the master's third period, for he 
 turned from his earlier style which was purely 
 lyric, to one with far more richness of orchestra- 
 tion. 
 
 Verdi had now retired to his estate of Sant' 
 Agata, and it was supposed his career as com- 
 poser had closed, as he gave his time principally 
 to the care of his domain. From time to time it 
 was rumored he was writing another opera. The 
 rumor proved true, for on February 5, 1887, 
 when Verdi was seventy-four years old, "Otello" 
 was produced at La Scala, Milan, amid indescrib- 
 able enthusiasm. Six years later the musical 
 world was again startled and overjoyed by 
 the production of another Shakespearean opera, 
 "Falstaff," composed in his eightieth year. 
 
Giuseppe Verdi 259 
 
 In all, his operas number over thirty, most of 
 them serious, all of them containing much 
 beautiful music. 
 
 At Sant' Agata the master lived a quiet, re- 
 tired life. The estate was situated about two 
 miles' from Busseto, and was very large, with 
 a great park, a large collection of horses and 
 other live stock. The residence was spacious, 
 ajid the master's special bedroom was on the first 
 floor. It was large, light and airy and luxu- 
 riously furnished. Here stood a magnificent 
 grand piano, and the composer often rose in the 
 night to jot down the themes which came to him 
 in the sUence of the midnight hom-s. Here "Don 
 Carlos" was written. In one of the upper 
 rooms stood the old spinet that Verdi hacked at as 
 a child. 
 
 Verdi was one of the noblest of men as well 
 as one of the greatest of musical composers. He 
 passed away in Milan, January 27, 1901, at the 
 age of eighty-eight. 
 
XVI 
 
 RICHARD WAGNER 
 
 One of the most gigantic musical geniuses the 
 world has yet known was Richard Wagner. 
 Words have been exhausted to tell of his achieve- 
 ments ; books without number have been written 
 about him ; he himself, in his Autobiography, and 
 in his correspondence, has told with minutest 
 detail how he lived and what his inner life has 
 been. What we shall strive for is the simple 
 story of his career, though in the simple telling, 
 it may read like a fairy tale. 
 
 Richard Wagner first saw the light on May 
 22, 1813, in Leipsic. Those were stirring times 
 in that part of the world, for revolution was 
 often on the eve of breaking out. The tiny babe 
 was but six months old when the father passed 
 away. There were eight other children, the 
 eldest son being only fourteen. The mother, a 
 sweet, gentle little woman, found herself quite 
 vmable to support her large family of growing 
 children. No one could blame her for accepting 
 the hand of her husband's old friend, Ludwig 
 Geyer, in less than a year after the loss of her 
 
 260 
 
Richard Wagner 261 
 
 first husband. Geyer was a man of much artistic 
 talent, an actor, singer, author and painter. He 
 thought little Richard might become a portrait 
 painter, or possibly a musician, since the child 
 had learned to play two little pieces on the piano. 
 
 Geyer found employment in a Dresden the- 
 ater, so the family removed to that city. But he 
 did not live to see the blossoming of his youngest 
 step-son's genius, as he passed away on Sep- 
 tember 30, 1821, when the child was eight years 
 old. 
 
 Little Richard showed wonderful promise 
 even in those years of childhood. At the 
 Kreuzschule, where his education began, he de- 
 veloped an ardent love for the Greek classics, 
 and translated the first twelve books of the 
 Odyssey, outside of school hom-s. He devoured 
 all stories of mythology he could lay hands on, 
 and soon began to create vast tragedies. He 
 revelled in Shakespeare, and finally began to 
 write a play which was to combine the ideas of 
 both Hamlet and King Lear. Forty-two per- 
 sons were killed off in the course of the play and 
 had to be brought back as ghosts, as otherwise 
 there would have been no characters for the last 
 act. He worked on this play for two years. 
 
 Everything connected with the theater was of 
 absorbing interest to this precocious child. 
 Weber, who lived in Dresden, often passed their 
 house and was observed with almost religious awe 
 
262 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 by little Richard. Sonijetimes the great com- 
 poser dropped in to have a chat with the mother, 
 who was well liked among mnsiciansf and artists. 
 Thujs Weber became the idol of the lad's boy- 
 hood, and he knew "Der Freischiitz" almost by 
 heart. If he was not allowed to go to the theater 
 to hsten to his favorite opera, there would be 
 scenes of weeping and beseeching, until per- 
 mission was granted for him to. run off to the 
 performance. 
 
 In 1827 the family returned to Leipsic, and 
 it was at the famous Gewandhaus concerts that 
 the boy first heard Beethoven's music. He was so 
 fired by the Overture to "Egmont," that he de- 
 cided at once to become a musician. But how — 
 that was the question. He knew nothing of 
 composition, but, borrowing a treatise on har- 
 mony, tried to learn the whole contents in a week. 
 
 It was a struggle, and one less determined than 
 the fourteen-year-old boy would have given up 
 in despair. He was made of different stuff. 
 Working alone by himself, he composed a son- 
 ata, a quartette and an aria. At last he ven- 
 tured to anno\mce the result of his secret studies. 
 At this news his relatives were up in arms ; they 
 judged his desire for music to be a passing fancy, 
 especially as they knew nothing of any prepara- 
 tory studies, and realized he had never learned 
 to play any instrument, not even the piano. 
 
 The family, however, compromised enough to 
 
Richard Wagner 263 
 
 engage a teacher for him. But Richard would 
 never learn slowly and systematically. His 
 mind shot far ahead, absorbing in one instance 
 the writings of HoflFmann, whose imaginative 
 tales kept the boy's mind in a continual state of 
 nervous excitement. He was not content to 
 dimb patiently the mountain; he tried to reach 
 the top at a bound. So he wrote overtures for 
 orchestras, one of which was really performed in 
 Leipsic — a marvelous affair indeed, with its 
 tympani explosions. 
 
 Richard now began to realize the need of solid 
 work, and settled down to study music seriously, 
 this time under Theodor Weinlig, who was cantor 
 in the famous Thomas School. 
 
 In less than six months the boy was able to 
 solve the most difficult problems in counterpoint. 
 He learned to know Mozart's music, and tried to 
 write with more simplicity of style. A piano 
 sonata, a polonaise for four hands and a fan- 
 taisie for piano belong to this year. After that 
 he aspired to make piano arrangements of great 
 works, such as Beethoven's "Ninth Symphony." 
 Then came his own symphony, which was really 
 performed at Grewandhaus, and is said to have 
 shown great musical vigor. 
 
 Intrumental music no longer satisfied this 
 eager, aspiring boy; he must compose operas. 
 He was now twenty, and went to Wiirzburg, 
 where his brother Albert was engaged at the 
 
264 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 Wiirzburg Theater as actor, singer and stage 
 manager. Albert secured for him a post as 
 chorus master, with a salary of ten florins a 
 month. 
 
 The young composer now started work on a 
 second opera, the first, called "The Marriage," 
 was found impracticable. The new work was 
 entitled "The Fairies." This he finished, and 
 the work, performed years later, was found to 
 be imitative of Beethoven, Weber, and Marsch- 
 ner; the music was nevertheless very melodious. 
 
 Wagner returned to Leipsie in 1834. Soon 
 there came another impetus to this budding gen- 
 ius: he heard for the fibrst time the great singer 
 Wilhelmina Schroeder-Devrient, whose art made 
 a deep impression on him. 
 
 It was a time for rapid impressions to sway 
 the ardent temperament of this boy genius of 
 twenty-one. He read the works of Wilhehn 
 Heinse, who depicts both the highest artistic 
 pleasures and those of the opposite sort. Other 
 authors following the same trend made him be- 
 lieve in the utmost freedom in politics, literature 
 and morals. Freedom in everjrthing — ^the pleas- 
 ures of the moment — seemed to him the highest 
 good. 
 
 Under the sway of such opinions he began to 
 sketch the plot of his next opera, "Prohibition 
 of Love" (Liebesverbot), foimded on Shake- 
 
Richard Wagner 265 
 
 speaxe's "Measure for Measure." This was 
 while he was in Teplitz on a summer holiday. 
 In the autumn he took a position as conductor in 
 a small operatic theater in Magdeburg. Here 
 he worked at his new opera, hoping he could in- 
 duce the admired Schroedeip-Devxient to be his 
 heroine. 
 
 Wagner remained in this place about two years 
 and finished his opera there. The performance 
 of it, for which he labored with great zeal, was 
 a fiasco. The theater, too, failed soon after and 
 the young composer was thrown out of work. 
 His sojom-n there influenced his after career, as 
 he met Wilhelmina Planer, who was soon to be- 
 come his wife. 
 
 Hearing there was an opening for a musical 
 director at Konigsberg, he traveled to that town, 
 and in due course secured the post. Muina 
 Planer also f oimd an engagement at the theater, 
 and the two were married on November 24, 1836 ; 
 he was twenty-three and she somewhat younger. 
 Kind, gentle, loving, she was quite imable to im- 
 derstand she was linked with a genius. Wagner 
 was burdened with debts, begun in Magdeburg 
 and increased in Konigsberg. She was almost 
 as improvident as he. They were like two chil- 
 dren playing at life, with fateful consequences. 
 It was indeed her misfortune, as one says, that 
 this gentle dove was mismated with an eagle. 
 
266 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 But Minna learned later, through dire necessity, 
 to be more economical and careful, which is more 
 than can be said of her gifted husband. 
 
 After a year the Konigsberg Theater failed 
 and again Wagner was out of employment. 
 Through the influence of his friend Dorn, he 
 secured a directorship at Riga, Minna also being 
 engaged at the theater. At first everything went 
 well; the salary was higher arid the people among 
 whom they were placed were agreeable. But 
 before long debts began to press again, and 
 Wagner was dissatisfied with the state of the Ijnric 
 drama, which he was destined to reform in such 
 a wonderful way. He was only twenty-four, 
 and had seen but little of the world. Paris was 
 the goal toward which he looked with longing 
 eyes, and to the gay French capital he deter- 
 mined to go. 
 
 When he tried to get a passport for Paris, 
 he found it impossible because of his debts. Not 
 to be turned from his purpose, he, Minna and the 
 great Newfoundland dog, his pet companion, 
 all slipped away from Riga at night and in dis^ 
 guise. At the port of Pillau the trio embarked 
 on a sailing vessel for Paris, the object of aU 
 his hopes. The young composer carried with 
 him one opera and half of a second work — 
 "Rienzi," which he had written during the years 
 of struggle in Magdeburg and Konigsberg. In 
 Riga he had come upon Heine's version of the 
 
Richard Wagner 267 
 
 Flying Dutchman legend, and the sea voyage 
 served to make the story more vital. 
 
 He writes : "This voyage I shall never forget 
 as long as I live; it lasted three weeks and a 
 half, and was rich in mishaps. Thrice we en- 
 dured the most violent storms, and once the cap- 
 tain had to put into a Norwegian haven. The 
 passage among the crags of Norway made a 
 wonderful impression on my fancy; the legends 
 of itie Flying Dutchman, as told hy the sailors, 
 were clothed with distinct and individual color, 
 heightened hy the ocean adventures through 
 which we passed." 
 
 After stopping a short time in London, the 
 trio halted for several weeks in Boulogne, because 
 the great Meyerbeer was summering there. 
 Wagnei* met the influential composer and con- 
 fided his hopes and longings. Meyerbeer re- 
 ceived the poor young German kindly, praised 
 his music, gave him several letters to musicians 
 in power in Paris, but told him persistence was 
 the most important factor in success. 
 
 With a light heart, and with buoyant trust in 
 the future, though with little money for present 
 necessities, Wagner and his companions arrived 
 in Paris in September, 1839. Before him lay, 
 if he had but known it, two years and a half of 
 bitter hardship and privation; but — "out of 
 trials and tribulations are great spirits molded." 
 
 There were many noted musicians in the 
 
268 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 French capital at that time, and many oppor- 
 tmiities for success. The young German pro- 
 duced his letters of introduction and received 
 many promises of assistance from conductors and 
 directors. Delighted with his prospects he lo- 
 cated in the "heart of elegant and artistic Paris," 
 without regarding cost. 
 
 Soon the skies clouded; one hope after another 
 failed. His compositions were either too difficult 
 for conductors to grasp, or theaters failed on 
 which he depended for assistance. He became 
 in great distress and could not pay for the fur- 
 niture of the apartment, which he had bought on 
 credit. It was now that he turned to writing 
 for musical journals, to keep the wolf from the 
 door, meanwhile working on the score of 
 "Rienzi," which was finished in November, 1840 
 and sent to Dresden. In later years it was 
 produced in that city. 
 
 But the Wagners, alas, were starving in Paris. 
 One of Richard's articles at this time was called 
 "The End of a Musician in Paris," and he makes 
 the poor musician die with the words; "I believe 
 in God — ^Mozart and Beethoven." It was al- 
 most as bad as this for Wagner himself. He 
 determined to turn his back on all the intrigues 
 and hardships he had endured for over two years, 
 and set out for the homeland, which seemed the 
 only desirable spot on earth. 
 
 The rehearsals for "Rienzi" began in Dresden 
 
Richard Wagner 269 
 
 in July 1842. Wagner had now finished "The 
 Flying Dutchman," and had completed the out- 
 line of "Tannhauser," based on Hoffmann's 
 story of the Singers' Contest at the Wartburg. 
 
 And now Wagner's star as a composer began 
 to rise and light was seen ahead. On October 
 20, 1842 "Rienzi" was produced in the Dresden 
 Opera House and the young composer awoke 
 the next morning to find himself famous. The 
 performance was a tremendous success, with 
 singers, public and critics alike., The perfor- 
 mance lasted six hours and Wagner, next day, 
 decided the work must be cut in places, but the 
 singers loudly protested: "The work was heav- 
 enly," they assured him, "not a measure could 
 be spared." 
 
 With this first venture Wagner was now on the 
 high road to success, and spent a happy winter 
 in the Saxon capital. He could have gone on 
 writing operas like "Rienzi," to please the public, 
 but he aimed far higher. To fuse all the arts in 
 one complete whole was the idea that had been 
 forming in his mind. He first illustrated this 
 in "The Flying Dutchman/' and it became the 
 niain thought of his later works. This theory 
 made both vocal and instrumental music second- 
 ary to the dramatic plan, and this, at that time, 
 seemed a truly revolutionary idea. 
 
 "The Flying Dutchman" was produced at the 
 Dresden Opera House January 2, 1843, with 
 
270 Story'Lives of MaHer Musicians 
 
 Mme. Schroeder-Devrient as Senta. Critics 
 and public had expected a brilliant and imposing 
 spectacle like "Rienzi" and were disappointed. 
 In the following May and June "The Dutch- 
 man" was heard in Riga and Cassel, conducted 
 by the famous violinist and composer, Spohr. 
 
 In spite of the fact that "The Flying Dutch- 
 man" was not then a success, and in Dresden 
 was shelved for twenty years, Wagner secured 
 the fine post of Head Capellmeister, at a salary 
 of nearly twelve hundred dollars. This post he 
 retained for seven years, gaining a great deal of 
 experience in orchestral conducting, and pro- 
 ducing Beethoven's symphonies with great orig- 
 inality, together with much that was best in or- 
 chestral literature. 
 
 "Tannhauser" was now complete, and dur- 
 ing the following summer, at Marienbad, sketches 
 for "Lohengrin" and "Die Meistersinger" were 
 made. During the winter, the book being made 
 he began on the music of "Lohengrin." In 
 March of the exciting year 1848, the music of 
 "Lohengrin" was finished. There was a wide 
 difference in style between that work and "Tann- 
 hauser." And already the composer had in mind 
 a new work to be called "The Death of Sieg- 
 fried." He wrote to Franz Liszt, with whom 
 he now began to correspond, that within six 
 months he would send him the book of the new 
 work complete. As he worked at the drama, 
 
Richard Wagner 271 
 
 however, it began to spread out before him in a 
 way that he could not condense into one opera, 
 or even two; and thus it finally grew into the 
 four operas of the "Ring of the Nibelungen." 
 
 It must not be imagined that Wagner had 
 learned the lesson of carefulness in money mat- 
 ters, or that, with partial success he always had 
 plenty for his needs. He had expensive tastes, 
 loved fine clothing and beautiful surroundings. 
 Much money, too, was needed to produce new 
 works ; so that in reality, the composer was always 
 in debt. The many letters which passed between 
 Wagner and Liszt, which fill two large volumes, 
 show how Liszt clearly recognized the brilliant 
 genius of his friend, and stood ready to help 
 him Over financial difficulties, and how Wagner 
 came to lean more and more on Liszt's gener- 
 osity. 
 
 Just what part Wagner played in the revolu- 
 tion of 1848 is not quite clear. He wrote sev- 
 eral articles which were radical protests for free- 
 dom of thought. At all events he learned it 
 would be better for him to leave Dresden in 
 time. In fact he remained in exile from his 
 country for over eleven years. 
 
 Wagner fled to Switzerland, leaving Minna 
 still in Dresden, though in due time he succeeded 
 in scraping together fimds for her to follow him 
 to Zurich. He was full of plans for composing 
 "Siegfried," while she continually urged him to 
 
272 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 write pleasing operas that Paris would like. 
 Wagner believed the world should take care of 
 hiniv while he was composing his great works, 
 whereas Minna saw this course meant living on 
 the charity of friends, and at this she rebelled. 
 But Wagner grew discouraged over these petty- 
 trials, and for five years creative work was at a 
 standstill. 
 
 How to meet daily necessities was the all ab- 
 sorbing question. A kind friend, who greatly 
 admired his music. Otto Wesendonck, made it 
 possible for him to rent, at a low price, a pretty 
 chalet near Lake Zurich, and there he and Minna 
 lived in retirement, and here he wrote many arti- 
 cles explaining his theories. 
 
 During the early years at Zurich Wagner's 
 only musical activity was conducting a few 
 orchestral concerts. Then, one day, he took out 
 the score of his "Lohengrin," and read it;, some- 
 thing he rarely did with any of his works. Seized 
 with a deep desire to have this opera brought 
 out, he sent a pleading letter to Liszt, begging 
 him to produce the work. Liszt faithfully ac- 
 complished this task .at Weimar, where he was 
 conducting the Court Opera. The date chosen 
 was Goethe's birthday, August 28, and the year 
 1850. Wagner was most anxious to be present, 
 but the risk of arrest prevented him from ven- 
 turing on German soil. It was not tUl 1861, 
 in Vienna, that the composer heard this the most 
 
Richard Wagner 273 
 
 popular of all his operas. Liszt was profoundly 
 moved by the beautiful work, and wrote his en- 
 thusiasm to the composer. 
 
 Wagner now took up his" plan of the Nibelung 
 Trilogy, that is the three operas and a prologue. 
 Early in 1853 the poem in its new form was corti- 
 plete, and in February he sent a copy to Liszt, 
 who answered : "You are truly a wonderful man, 
 and your Nibelung poem is surely the most in- 
 credible thing you have ever done!" 
 
 So Wagner was impelled by the inner flame of 
 creative fire, to work incessantly on the music of 
 the great epic he had planned. And w'ork he 
 must, in spite of grinding poverty and ill health. 
 It was indeed to be the "Music of the Future." 
 
 After a brief visit to London, to conduct some 
 concerts for the London Philharmonic, Wagner 
 was back again in Zurich, hard at work on the 
 "Walkiire," the first opera of the three, as the 
 "Rheingold" was considered the introduction. 
 By April 1856, the whole opera was finished and 
 sent to Liszt for his opinion. Liszt and his 
 great friend. Countess Wittgenstein, studied out 
 the work together, and both wrote glowing let- 
 ters to the composer of the deep effect his music 
 made upon them. 
 
 And now came a halt in the composition 
 of these tremendous music dramas. Wagner 
 realized that to produce such great works, a 
 special theater should be built, of adaptable de- 
 
274 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 sign. But from where would the funds be forth- 
 coming? While at work on the "Walkiire," the 
 stories of "Tristan" and "Parsifal" had sug- 
 gested themselves, and the plan of the first was 
 already sketched. He wrote to Liszt: "As I 
 have never in life felt the bliss of real love, I 
 must erect a monument to the most beautiful of 
 all my dreams." The first act of "Tristan and 
 Isolde" was finished on the last day of the year 
 1857. In his retreat in Switzerland, the com- 
 poser longed for sympathetic, intellectual com- 
 panionship, which, alas, Minna could not give 
 him. He found it in the society of Marie 
 Wesendonck, wife of the kind friend and music 
 lover, who had aided him in many ways. This 
 marked attention to another aroused Minna's 
 jealousy and an open break was imminent. 
 The storm, however, blew over for a time. 
 
 In June, 1858, Wagner was seized with a de- 
 sire for luxury and quiet, and betook himself to 
 Venice, where he wrote the second act of 
 "Tristan."" Then came the trouble between 
 Wa^er and the Wesendoncks which caused 
 the composer to leave Zurich finally, on August 
 17, 1859. Minna returned to Dresden while 
 Wagner went to Paris, where Minna joined bim 
 for a time, before the last break came. 
 
 What promised to be a wonderful stroke of 
 good luck came to him here. His art was 
 brought to the notice of the Emperor, Napoleon 
 
Richard Wagner 275 
 
 III, who requested that one of his operas should 
 be produced, promising carte blanche for funds. 
 All might have gone well with music of the ac- 
 cepted pattern. But "Tannhauser" was dif- 
 ferent, its composer particular as to who sang 
 and how it was done. The rehearsals went 
 badly, an opposing faction tried to drown the 
 music at the first performance. Matters were so 
 much worse at the second performance that 
 Wagner refused to allow it to proceed. In spite 
 of the Emperor's promises, he had borne much 
 of the expense, and left Paris in disgust, bur- 
 dened with debt. 
 
 From Paris Wagner went to Vienna, where 
 he had the great happiness of hearing his 
 "Lohengrin" for the first time. He hoped to 
 have "Tristan" brought out, but the music 
 proved too difficvdt for the singers of that time 
 to learn. After many delays and disappoint- 
 ments, the whole thing was given up. Reduced 
 now to the lowest ebb, Wagner planned a con- 
 cert tour to earn a living. Minna now left him 
 finally; she could no longer endure life with this 
 "monster of genius." She went back to her rela- 
 tives in Leipsic, and passed away there in 1866. 
 
 The concert tours extended over a couple of 
 years, but brought few returns, except in Russia. 
 Wagner became despondent and almost con- 
 vinced he ought to give up trying to be a com- 
 poser. People called him a freak, a madman. 
 
276 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 and ridiculed his efforts at music making. And 
 yet, during all this troublesome time, he was at 
 work on his one humorous opera, "Die Meister- 
 singer." On this he toiled incessantly. 
 
 And now, when he was in dire need, and suf- 
 ferings a marvelous boon was coming to him, as 
 wonderful as any to be found in fairy tale. A 
 fairy Prince was coming to the rescue of this 
 strugghng genius. This Prince was the young 
 monarch of Bavaria, who had just succeeded to 
 the throne left by the passing of his father% 
 The youthful Prince, ardent and generous, had 
 long worshiped in secret the master and his 
 music. One of his first acts on becoming Lud- 
 wig of Bavaria, was to send for Wagner to come 
 to his capital at once and finish his life work in 
 peace. "Hie wants me to be with him always, to 
 work, to rest, to produce my works," wrote 
 Wagner to a friend in Zurich, where he had been 
 staying. "He will give me everything I need; 
 I am to finish my Nibelimgen and he will have 
 them performed as I wish. All troubles are to 
 be taken from me; I shall have what I need, if 
 I only stay with him." 
 
 The King placed a pretty villa on Lake Starn- 
 berg, near Munich, at Wagner's disposal, and 
 there he spent the summer of 1864. The King's 
 summer palace was quite near, and monarch and 
 composer were much together. In the autumn 
 a residence in the quiet part of Munich was set 
 
Richard Wagner 277 
 
 apart for Wagner. Hans von Biilow was sent 
 for as one of the conductors; young Hans 
 Richter lived in Munich and later became one of 
 the most distinguished conductors of Wagner's 
 music. 
 
 The Billows arrived in Munich in the early 
 autimm, and almost at once began the attraction 
 of Mme. Cosima von Biilow and Wagner. She, 
 the daughter of Liszt, was but twenty five, of 
 deeply artistic temperament, and could under- 
 stand the aims of the composer as no other 
 woman had yet done. This ardent attraction 
 led later to Cosima's separation from her hus- 
 band and filially to her marriage with Wagner. 
 
 The first of the Wagner Festivals under 
 patronage of the King, took place in Munich 
 June 10, 18, 19, and July 1, 1865. The work 
 was "Tristan and Isolde," perhaps the finest 
 flower of Wagner's genius', and already eight 
 years old. Von Biilow was a superb conductor 
 and Ludwig an inspired Tristan. Wagner was 
 supremely happy. Alas, such happiness did not 
 last. Enemies sprang up all about him. The 
 King himself could not stem the tide of false 
 rumors, and besought the composer to leave 
 Munich for a while, till public opinion calmed 
 down. So Wagner returned to his favorite 
 Switzerland and settled in Triebschen, near 
 Lucerne, where he remained till he removed to 
 Bayreuth in 1872. 
 
278 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 In 1866, the feeling against Wagner had 
 somewhat declined and the King decided to have 
 model performances of "Tannhauser" and 
 "Lohengrin" at Munich, The Festival began 
 June 11, 1867. The following year "Die Meis- 
 tersinger" was performed — June 21, 1868. 
 
 And now the King was eager to hear the 
 "Ring." It was not yet complete but the mon- 
 arch could not wait and ordered "Das Rhein- 
 gold," the Introduction to the Trilogy, to be pre- 
 pared. It was poorly given and was not a suc- 
 cess. Not at all discouraged, he wished for "Die 
 Walkiire," which was performed the following 
 year, June 26, 1870. 
 
 It had long been Wagner's desire to have a 
 theater built, in which his creations could be 
 properly given under his direction. Bayreuth 
 had been chosen, as a quiet spot where music 
 lovers could come for the sole purpose of hearing 
 the music. He went to live there with his family 
 in April, 1872. Two years later they moved into 
 ViUa Wahnfried, which had been built according 
 to the composer's ideas. Meanwhile funds were 
 being raised on both sides of the water, through 
 the Wagner Societies, to erect the Festival 
 Theater. The comer stone was laid on 
 Wagner's birthday — ^his fifty-ninth — May 22, 
 1872. It was planned to give the first per- 
 formances in the summer of 1876; by that time 
 
Richard Wagner 279 
 
 Wagner's longed-for project became a reality. 
 
 The long-expected event took place in August, 
 1876. The Festival opened on the thirteenth 
 with "Das Rheingold," first of the Ring music 
 dramas. On the following night "Die Walkiire" 
 was heard; then came "Siegfried" and "Gotter- 
 dammerung," the third and fourth dramas being 
 heard for the first time. Thus the Ring of the 
 Nibelungen, on which the composer had labored 
 for a quarter of a century at last found a hearing, 
 listened to by Kings and Potentates, besides a 
 most distinguished auxiience of musicians from 
 aU parts of the world. 
 
 At last one of Wagner's dreams was realized 
 and his new gospel of art vindicated. 
 
 One music drama remained to be written — 
 "Parsifal," his last. Failing health prevented 
 the completion of the drama until 1882. The 
 first performance of this noble work was given 
 on July 26, followed by fifteen other hearings. 
 After the exertions attending these, Wagner 
 and his wife, their son Siegfried, Liszt and other 
 friends, went to Italy and occupied the Ven- 
 dramin Palace, on the Grand Canal, Venice. 
 Here he lived quietly and comfortably, sur- 
 rounded by those he loved. His health failed 
 more and more, the end coming February 13, 
 1883. 
 
 Thus passed from sight one of the most aston- 
 
280 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 ishing musicians of all time. He lives in his 
 music more vitally than when his bodily presence 
 was on earth, since the world becomes more 
 familiar with his music as time goes on. And to 
 know this music is to admire and love it. 
 
XVII 
 CESAR FRANCE 
 
 Whateteh we learn of Cesar Franck endears 
 him to all who would know and appreciate the 
 beautiful character which shines through his art. 
 He was always kind, loving, tender, and these 
 qualities are felt in the music he composed. 
 Some day we shall know his music better. It 
 has been said of this unique composer: 
 "Franck is enamored of gentleness and consola- 
 tion; his music rolls into the soul in long waves, 
 as on the slack of a moonlit tide. It is tender- 
 ness itself." 
 
 In Liege, Belgium, it was that Cesar Franck 
 was born, December 10, 1822. Chopin had 
 come a dozen years earlier, so had Schumann, 
 Liszt and other gifted ones; it was a time of 
 musical awakening. 
 
 The country about Liege was peculiarly 
 French, not only in outward appearance, but in 
 language and sentiment. Here were low hiUs 
 covered with pines and beeches, here charming 
 valleys; there wide plains where the flowering 
 broom flourished in profusion. It was the 
 
 281 
 
282 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 Walloon country, and the Francks claimed de- 
 scent from a family of early Walloon painters of 
 the same name. The earliest of these painters 
 was Jerome Franck, bom away back in 1540. 
 Thus the name Franck had stood for art ideals 
 during a period of more than two and a half 
 centuries. 
 
 When Cesar and his brother were small chil- 
 dren, the father, a man of stern and autocratic 
 nature — a banker, with many friends in the 
 artistic and musical world — decided to make 
 both his sons professional musicians. 
 
 His will had to be obeyed, there was no help 
 for it. In the case of Cesar, however, a musician 
 was what he most desired to become, so that 
 music study was always a delight. 
 
 Before he was quite eleven years old, his 
 father took him on a tour of Belgium. It looked 
 then as though he had started on a virtuoso 
 career, as the wonder children — Mozart, Chopin, 
 Thalberg, Liszt and others who had preceded 
 him, had done. The future proved, however, 
 that Cesar's life work was to be composing, 
 teaching and organ playing, with a quiet life, 
 even in busy Paris, instead of touring the world 
 to make known his gifts. 
 
 During this youthful tour of Belgium, he met 
 a child artist, a year or two older than himself, a 
 singer, also touring as a virtuoso. The little girl 
 
Cesar Franch 283 
 
 was called Pauline Garcia, who later became 
 famous as Mme. Pauline Viardot Garcia, 
 
 When Cesar was twelve he had learned what 
 they could teach him at the Liege Conservatory, 
 and finished his studies there. His father, ambi- 
 tious for the musical success of his sons, emi- 
 grated with his family to Paris, in 1836. Cesar 
 appHed for entrance to the Conservatoire, but it 
 was not until the following year, 1837, that he 
 gained admission, joining Leborn^'s class in 
 composition, and becoming Zimmermann's pupil 
 in piano playing. At the end of the year the 
 boy won a' prize for a fugue he had written. In 
 piano he chose Hummel's Concerto in A minor 
 for his test, and played it off in fine style. 
 When it came to sight reading, he suddenly 
 elected to transpose the piece selected a third 
 below the key in which it was written, which he 
 was able to do at sight, without any hesitation or 
 slip. 
 
 Such a feat was unheard of and quite against 
 the time-honored rules of competition. And to 
 think it had been performed by an audacious slip 
 of a boy of fifteen! The aged Director, none 
 other than Maestro Cherubini, was shocked out 
 of the even tenor of his way, and declared that a 
 first prize could not be awarded, although he 
 must have realized the lad deserved it. To 
 make amends, however, he proposed a special 
 
284 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 award to the audacious young pianist, outside 
 the regular competition, to be known as "The 
 Grand Prize of Honor." This was the first 
 time, and so far as is known, the only time such a 
 prize has been awarded. 
 
 Cesar Franck won his second prize for fugue 
 composition in 1839. Fugue writing had be- 
 come so natural and easy for him, that he was 
 able to finish his task in a fraction of the time al- 
 lotted by the examiners. When he returned 
 home several hours before the other students had 
 finished, his father reproached him roundly for 
 not spending more time on the test upon which 
 so much depended. With his quiet smile the 
 boy answered he thought the result would be all 
 right. And it was! The next year he again 
 secured the first prize for fugue ; this was in July 
 1840. The year following he entered the organ 
 contest, which was a surprise to the examiners. 
 
 The tests for organ prizes have always been 
 four. First, the accompaniment of a plain 
 chant, chosen for the occasion; second, the per- 
 formance of an organ piece with pedals; third, 
 the improvising of a fugue ; fourth, improvising 
 a piece in sonata form. Both the improvisations 
 to be on themes set by the examiners. Cesar at 
 once noticed that the two themes could be com- 
 bined in such a way that one would set off the 
 other. He set to work, and soon became so ob- 
 sorbed in this interweaving of melodies that the 
 
Cesar Franch 285 
 
 improvisation extended to unaccustomed lengths, 
 which bewildered the examiners and they 
 decided to award nothing to such a tiresome boy. 
 Benoist, teacher of this ingenious pupil, ex- 
 plained matters with the result that Cesar was 
 awarded a second prize for organ. 
 
 He now began to prepare for the highest 
 honor, the Prix de Rome. But here parental 
 authority interfered. For some unexplained 
 reason, his father compelled him to leave the 
 Conservatoire before the year was up. It may 
 have been the father desired to see his son become 
 a famous virtuoso pianist and follow the career 
 of Thalberg and Liszt. At any rate he insisted 
 his boy should make the most of his talents as a 
 pCTformer and should also compose certain pieces 
 suitable for public playing. To this period of 
 his life belong many of the compositions for 
 piano solo, the showy caprices, fantaisies and 
 transcriptions. Being obliged to write this kind 
 of music, the young composer sought for new 
 forms in fingering and novel harmonic effects, 
 even in his most insignificant productions. 
 Thus among the early piano works, the Eclogue, 
 Op. 3, and the Ballade, Op. 9, are to be found in- 
 novations which should attract the pianist and 
 musician of to-day. 
 
 His very first compositions, a set of three 
 Trios, Op. 1, were composed while he was stOl at 
 the Conservatoire, and his father wished them 
 
286 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 dedicated "To His Majesty, Leopold I, King of 
 the Belgians." He wished to secure an audience 
 with the King and have his son present the com- 
 position to his Majesty in person. It may have 
 been for this reason he withdrew the boy so sud- 
 denly from the Conservatoire. However this 
 may have been, the Franck family returned to 
 Belgiimi for two years. At the end of that time, 
 they all returned to Paris, with almost no other 
 resources than those earned by the two young 
 sons, Josef and Cesar, by private teaching and 
 concert engagements. 
 
 And now began for Cesar Franck that life of 
 regular and tireless industry, which lasted 
 nearly half a century. This industry was ex- 
 pressed in lesson-giving and composing. 
 
 One of the first works written after his return 
 to Paris, was a musical setting to the Biblical 
 story of "Ruth." The work was given in the 
 concert room of the Conservatoire, on January 
 4, 1846, when the youthful composer was twenty- 
 three. The majority of the critics found little 
 to praise in the music, which, they said, was but 
 a poor imitation of "Le Desert," by David. One 
 critic, more kindly disposed than the others, 
 said: "M. Cesar Franck is exceedingly naive, 
 and this simplicity we must confess, has served 
 him well in the composition of his sacred ora- 
 torio of 'Ruth.' " A quarter of a century later, 
 a second performance of "Ruth" was given, and 
 
Cisar Franck 287 
 
 the same critic wrote: "It is a revelation! 
 This score, which recalls by its charm and 
 melodic simplicity Mehul's 'Joseph,' but with 
 more tenderness and modern feeling, is certainly 
 a masterpiece." 
 
 But alas, hard times came upon the Franck 
 family. The rich pupils, who formed the yoxmg 
 men's chief clientele, all left Paris, alarmed by 
 the forebodings of the revolution of 1848. Just 
 at this most inopportune moment, Cesar decided 
 to marry. He had been in love for some time 
 with a young actress, the daughter of a well- 
 known tragedienne, Madame Desmousseaux, 
 and did not hesitate to marry in the face of bad 
 times and the opposition of his parents, who 
 strongly objected to his bringing a theatrical 
 person into the famUy. 
 
 Cesar Franck was then organist in the church 
 of Notre Dame de Lorette, and the marriage 
 took place there, February 22, 1848, in the very 
 thick of the revolution. Indeed, to reach the 
 church, the wedding party were obliged to climb 
 a barricade, helped over by the insurgents, who 
 were massed behind this particular fortification. 
 
 Soon after the wedding, Franck, having now 
 lost his pupils — or most of them — and being con- 
 tinually blamed by his father, whom he could no 
 longer supply with fimds, decided to leave the 
 parental roof and set up for himself in a home of 
 his own. Of course he had now to work twice 
 
288 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 as hard, get new pupils and give many more 
 lessons. But with all this extra labor, he made 
 a resolve, which he always kept sacredly, which 
 was to reserve an hour or two each day for com- 
 position, or for the study of such musical and 
 literary works as would improve and elevate his 
 mind. Nothing was ever allowed to interfere 
 with this resolution, and to it we owe all his 
 great works. 
 
 Franck made his first attempt at a dramatic 
 work in 1851, with a libretto entitled "The 
 Farmer's Man." As he must keep constantly 
 at his teaching during the day, he devoted the 
 greater part of the night to composition. He 
 worked so hard that the opera, begun in 
 December 1851, was finished in two years, but he 
 paid dearly for all this extra labor. He fell ill 
 ■ — a state of nervous prostration — and was un- 
 able for some time to compose at all. 
 
 It was indeed a time of shadows for the young 
 musician, but the skies brightened after a while. 
 He had the great good fortune to seciu'e the post 
 of organist and choir master in the fine new 
 basilica of Sainte Clothilde, which had lately 
 been erected, and which had an organ that was 
 indeed a masterpiece. This wonderful instru- 
 ment kept all its fulness of tone and freshness of 
 timbre after fifty years of use. "If you only 
 knew how I love this instrument," Father 
 Franck used to say to the cure of Sainte 
 
CSsar Franck 289 
 
 Clothilde; "it is so supple beneath my fingers 
 and so obedient to all my thoughts." 
 
 As Vincent d'Indy, one of Franck's most 
 gifted and famous pupils, writes : 
 
 "Here, in the dusk of this organ-loft, which I 
 can never think of without emotion, he spent the 
 best part of his life. Here he came every 
 Sunday and feast day — and toward the end of 
 his life, every Friday morning too, fanning the 
 fire of his genius by pouring out his spirit in 
 wonderful improvisations, which were often far 
 more lofty in thought than many skilfully 
 elaborated compositions. And here, too, he 
 must have conceived the sublime melodies which 
 afterward formed the groundwork of his 'Beati- 
 tudes.' " 
 
 "Ah, we knew it well, we who were his pupils, 
 the way up to that thrice-blessed organ loft, a 
 way as steep and difficult as that which the 
 Gospels tell us leads to Paradise. But when we 
 at last reached the httle organ chamber, all was 
 forgotten in the contemplation of that rapt pro- 
 file, the intellectual brow, from which seemed to 
 flow without effort a stream of inspired melody 
 and subtle, exquisite harmonies." 
 
 Cesar Franck was truly the genius of improvi- 
 sation. It is said no other modern organist, not 
 excepting the most renowned players, could hold 
 any comparison to him in this respect. Whether 
 he played for the service, for his pupils or for 
 
290 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 some chosen musical guest, Franck's improvi- 
 sations were always thoughtful and full of 
 feeling. It was a matter of conscience to do his 
 best always. "And his best was a sane, noble, 
 sublime art." 
 
 For the next ten years Franck worked and 
 lived the quiet life of a teacher and organist; his 
 compositions during this time were organ pieces 
 and church music. But a richer inner life was 
 the outgrowth of this period of calm, which was 
 to blossom into new, deeper and more pro- 
 foundly beautiful compositions. 
 
 One of these new works was "The Beatitudes." 
 For years he had had the longing to compose a 
 religious work on the Sermon on the Mount. 
 In 1869, he set to work on the poem, and when 
 that was well under way, began to create, with 
 great ardor, the musical setting. 
 
 In the very midst of this absorbing work came 
 the Franco-Prussian war, and many of his 
 pupils must enter the conflict, in one way or 
 another. Then early in 1872, he was appointed 
 Professor of Organ at the Conservatoire, which 
 was an honor he appreciated. 
 
 The same year, while occupied with the com- 
 position of the "Beatitudes," he wrote and com- 
 pleted his "Oratorio of the Redemption." After 
 this he devoted six years to the finishing of the 
 "Beatitudes," which occupied ten years of his 
 activity, as it was completed in 1879. A tardy 
 
Cisar Franck 291 
 
 recognition of his genius by the Government 
 granted himf the purple ribbon as officer of the 
 Academy, while not until five or six years later 
 did he receive the ribbon of a Chevalier of the 
 Legion of Honor. 
 
 In consequence of this event his pupils and 
 friends raised a fimd to cover expenses of a con- 
 cert devoted entirely to the master's composi- 
 tions. These works were given — conducted by 
 Pasdeloup: Symphonic Poem— "Le Chasseur 
 Maudit," Symphonic Variations, piano and 
 orchestra, Second Part of "Ruth." Part II 
 was conducted by the composer and consisted of 
 March and Air de Ballet, with chorus, from 
 "Hulda" and the Third and Eighth Beatitudes. 
 
 The Franck Festival occurred January 30, 
 1887, and was not a veiry inspiring performance. 
 The artist pupils of the master voiced to him 
 their disappointment that his works should not 
 have been more worthily performed. But he 
 only smiled on them and comforted them with 
 the words : "No, no, you are too exacting, dear 
 boys ; for my part I am quite satisfied." 
 
 No wonder his pupils called him "Father 
 Franck," for he was ever kind, sympathetic and 
 tender with them all. 
 
 During the later years of Cesar Franck's 
 earthly existence, he produced several master- 
 pieces. Among them the Violin Sonata, com- 
 posed for Eugene and Theophile Ysaye, the D 
 
292 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 minor Symphony, the String Quartet, the two 
 remarkable piano pieces. Prelude, Chorale and 
 Fugue, Prelude, Aria and Finale, and finally 
 the Three Chorales for organ, his swan song. 
 His health gradually declined, due to overwork 
 and an accident, and he passed quietly away, 
 November 8, 1890. 
 
 Chabrier, who only survived Franck a few 
 years, ended his toudiing remarks at the grave 
 with these words : 
 
 "Farewell, master, and take our thanks, for 
 you have done well. In you we salute one of 
 the greatest artists of the centvu-y, the incompar- 
 able teacher, whose wonderful work has produced 
 a whole generation of forceful musicians and 
 thinkers, armed at all points for hard-fought and 
 prolonged conflicts. We salute, also, the up- 
 right and just man, so himiane, so distinguished, 
 whose counsel was svu^e, as his words were kind. 
 Farewell!" 
 
Cksar Fhanck 
 
 From the volume "Prom Gneg to lirahiiis" by 1). G. Mason. 
 Courtesy of The Maemillaii Coiii/Hiny. 
 
cyC^'t-i'^-^.-e^ /o/^ Cjy/t^u^^^ 
 
XVIII 
 
 JOHANNES BRAHMS 
 
 It has been truly said that great composers 
 cannot be compared one with another. Each is 
 a solitary star, revolving in his own orbit. For 
 instance it is impossible to compare Wagner and 
 Brahms; the former could not have written the 
 Gterman Requiem or the four Symphonies any 
 more than Brahms could have composed 
 "Tristan." In the combination of arts which 
 Wagner fused into a stupendous whole, he 
 stands without a rival. But Brahms is also a 
 mighty composer in his hne of effort, for he 
 created music that continually grows in beauty 
 as it is better known. 
 
 Johannes Brahms was born in Hamburg, May 
 7, 1833. The house at 60 Speckstrasse still 
 stands, and doubtless looks much as it did seventy 
 years ago. A locality of dark, narrow streets 
 with houses tall and gabled and holding as many 
 families as possible. Number 60 stands in a dis- 
 mal court, entered by a close narrow passage. 
 A steep wooden staircase in the center, used to 
 have gates, closed at night. Jakob and Johanna 
 
 293 
 
294 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 lived in the first floor dwelling to the left. It 
 consisted of a sort of lobby or half kitchen, a 
 small living room and a tiny sleeping closet — 
 nothing else. In this and other small tenements 
 like it, the boy's early years were spent. It 
 certainly was an ideal case of low living and high 
 thinking. 
 
 The Brahms family were musical but very 
 poor in this world's goods. The father was a 
 contra bass player in the theater; he often had to 
 play in dance halls and beer gardens, indeed 
 where he could. Later he became a member of 
 the band that gave nightly concerts at the 
 Alster PaviUion. The mother, much older than 
 her husband, tried to help out the family finances 
 by keeping a little shop where needles and 
 thread were sold. 
 
 Little Johannes, or Hannes as he was called, 
 was surrounded from his earliest years by a 
 musical atmosphere, and must have shown a 
 great desire to study music. We learn that his 
 father took him to Otto Cossel, to arrange for 
 piano lessons. Hannes was seven years old, 
 pale and delicate looking, fair, with blue eyes 
 and a mass of flaxen hair. The father said : 
 
 "Herr Cossel, I wish my son to become your 
 pupil; he wants so much to learn the piano. 
 When he can play as well as you do it will be 
 enough." 
 
 Hannes was docile, eager and quick to learn. 
 
Johannes Brahms 295 
 
 He had a wonderful memory and made rapid 
 progress. In three years a concert was ar- 
 ranged for him, at which he played in chamber 
 music with several other musicians of Hamburg. 
 The concert was both a financial and artistic suc- 
 cess. Not long after this, Cossel induced 
 Edward Marxsen, a distinguished master and his 
 own teacher, to take full charge of the lad's 
 further musical training. Hannes was about 
 twelve at the time. 
 
 Marxsen's interest in the boy's progress in- 
 creased from week to week, as he realized his 
 talents. "One day I gave him a composition of 
 Weber's," he says. "The next week he played 
 it to me so blamelessly that I praised him. 'I 
 have also practised it in another way,' he 
 answered, and played me the right hand part 
 with the left hand." Part of the work of the 
 lessons was to transpose long pieces at sight; 
 later on Bach's Preludes and Fugues were done 
 in the same way. 
 
 Jakob Brahms, who as we have seen was in 
 very poor circumstances, was ready to exploit 
 Hannes' gift whenever occasion offered. He 
 had the boy play in the band concerts in the 
 Alster Pavillion, which are among the daily 
 events of the city's popular life, as all know who 
 are acquainted with Hamburg, and his shillings 
 earned in this and similar ways, helped out the 
 family's scanty means. But late hours began to 
 
296 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 tell on the boy's health. His father begged a 
 friend of his, a wealthy patron of music, to take 
 the lad to his summer home, in return for which 
 he would play the piano at any time of day 
 desired and give music lessons to the young 
 daughter of the family, a girl of about his own 
 age. 
 
 Thus it came about that early in May, 1845, 
 Hannes had his first taste of the delights of the 
 country. He had provided himself with a small 
 dumb keyboard, to exercise his fingers upon. 
 Every morning, after he had done what was 
 necessary in the house, Hannes was sent afield 
 by the kind mistress of the household, and told 
 not to show himself till dinner time. Perhaps 
 the good mistress did not know that Hannes had 
 enjoyed himself out of doors hours before. He 
 used to rise at four o'clock and begin his day 
 with a bath in the river. Shortly after this the 
 little girl, Lischen, would join him and they 
 would spend a couple of hoiu-s rambling about, 
 looking for bird's nests, hunting butterflies and 
 picking wild flowers. Hannes' pale cheeks soon 
 became plump and ruddy, as the result of fresh 
 air and country food. Musical work went right 
 on as usual. Studies in theory and composition, 
 begun with Marxsen, were pursued regularly in 
 the fields and woods all summer. 
 
 When the summer was over and all were back 
 in Hamburg again, Lischen used to come some- 
 
Johannes Brahms 29^ 
 
 times to Frau Brahms, of whom she soon grew 
 very fond. But it troubled her tender heart to 
 see the poor little flat so dark and dreary; for 
 even the living room had but one small window, 
 looking into the cheerless courtyard. She felt 
 very sorry for her friends, and proposed to 
 Hannes they should bring some scarlet runners 
 to be planted in the court. He fell in with the 
 idea at once and it was soon carried out. But 
 alas, when the chUdren had done their part, the 
 plants refused to grow. 
 
 Johannes had returned home much improved 
 in health, and able to play in several small con- 
 certs, where his efforts commanded attention. 
 The winter passed uneventfully, filled with 
 severe study by day and equally hard labor at 
 night in playing for the "lokals." But the next 
 summer in Winsen brought the country and 
 happiness once more. 
 
 Hannes began to be known as a musician 
 among the best families of Winsen, and often 
 played in their homes. He also had the chance 
 to conduct a small chorus of women's voices, 
 called the Choral Society of Winsen. He was 
 expected to turn his theoretical studies to ac- 
 count by composing something for this choir. 
 It was for them he produced his "A B C" song 
 for four parts, using the letters of the alphabet. 
 The composition ended with the words "Winsen, 
 eighteen-hundred seven and forty," simg slowly 
 
298 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 and fortissimo. The little piece was tuneful and 
 was a great favorite with the teachers, from that 
 day to this. 
 
 The boy had never heard an opera. During 
 the summer, when Carl Formes, then of Vienna, 
 was making a sensation in Hamburg, Lischen 
 got her father to secure places and take them. 
 The opera was the "Marriage of Figaro." 
 Hannes was almost beside himself with delight. 
 "Lischen, listen to the music! there was never 
 anything like it," he cried over and over again. 
 The father, seeing it gave so much pleasure, took 
 the children again to hear another opera, to their 
 great dehght. 
 
 But the happy summer came to an end and 
 sadness fell, to think Johannes must leave them, 
 for he had found many kind friends in Winsen. 
 He was over fifteen now and well knew he must 
 make his way as a musician, help* support the 
 family, and pay for the education of his brother 
 Fritz, who was to become a pianist and teacher. 
 There was a farewell party made for him in 
 Winsen, at which there was much music, speech 
 making and good wishes for his future success 
 and for his return to Winsen whenever he could. 
 
 Johannes made his new start by giving a con- 
 cert of his own on September 21, 1848. The 
 tickets for this concert were one mark; he had 
 the assistance of some Hamburg musicians. In 
 April next, 1849, he announced a second concert, 
 
Johannes Brahms 299 
 
 for which the tickets were two marks. At this 
 he played the Beethoven "Waldstein Sonata," 
 and the hrilliant "Don Juan Fantaisie." These 
 two works were considered about the top of 
 piano virtuosity. Meanwhile the boy was 
 always composing and still with his teacher 
 Marxsen. 
 
 The political revolution of 1848, was the cause 
 of many refugees crowding into Hamburg on 
 their way to America. One of these was the 
 violinist, Edward Remenyi, a German Hun- 
 garian Jew, whose real name was Hofmann. 
 But it seemed Remenyi was really in no haste to 
 leave Hamburg. Johannes, engaged as accom- 
 panist at the house of a wealthy patron, met the 
 violinist and was fascinated by his rendering of 
 national Hungarian music. Remenyi, on his 
 side, saw the advantage of having such an ac- 
 companist for his own use. So it happened the 
 two played together frequently for a time, until 
 the violinist disappeared from Germany, for 
 several years. He reappeared in Hamburg at 
 the close of the year 1852. He was then twenty- 
 two, while Brahms was nineteen. It was sug- 
 gested that the two musicians should do a httle 
 concert work together. They began to plan out 
 the trip which became quite a tour by the time 
 they had included all the places they wished to 
 
 visit. 
 The tour began at Winsen, then came Cella. 
 
300 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 Here a curious thing happened. The piano 
 proved to be a half tone below pitch, but Brahms 
 was equal to the dilemma. Requesting Remenyi 
 to tune his violin a half tone higher, making it a 
 whole tone above the piano, he then, at sight, 
 transposed the Beethoven Sonata they were to 
 play. It was really a great feat, but Johannes 
 performed it as though it were an every day 
 affair. 
 
 The next place was Luneburg and there the 
 young musician had such success that a second 
 concert was at once announced. Two were next 
 given at Hildesheim. Then came Leipsic, Han- 
 over and after that Weimer, where Franz Liszt 
 and his retinue of famous pupils held court. 
 Here Johannes became acquainted with RaflF, 
 Klindworth, Mason, Priikner and other well- 
 known musicians. 
 
 By this time his relations with Remenyi had 
 become somewhat irksome and strained and he 
 decided to break off this connection. One 
 morning he suddenly left Weimar, and traveled 
 to Gtottingen. There he met Joseph Joachim, 
 whom he had long wished to know, and who was 
 the reigning violinist of his time. Without any 
 announcement, Johannes walked in on the great 
 artist, and they became fast friends almost at 
 once. Joachim had never known what it was to 
 struggle; he had had success from the very start; 
 life had been one long triumph, whereas Johannes 
 
Johannes Brahms 301 
 
 had come from obscurity and had been reared in 
 privation. At this time Johannes was a fresh 
 faced boy, with long fair hair and deep earnest 
 blue eyes. Wiillner, the distinguished musician 
 of Cologne, thus describes him: "Brahms, at 
 twenty, was a slender youth, with long blond hair 
 and a veritable St. John's head, from whpse eyes 
 shone energy and spirit." 
 
 Johannes was at this time deeply engaged on 
 his piano Sonata in F minor, Op. 5. He had 
 already written two other piano sonatas, as yet 
 little known. The Op. 5, is now constantly 
 heard in concert rooms, played by the greatest 
 artists of our time. 
 
 In disposition Hannes was kindly and sincere ; 
 as a youth merry and gay. A friend in Diissel- 
 dorf, where he now spent four weeks, thus de- 
 scribes him: 
 
 "He was a most imusual looking young 
 musician, hardly more than a boy, in his short 
 summer coat, with his high-pitched voice and 
 long fair hair. Especially fine was his energetic, 
 characteristic mouth, and his earnest, deep gaze. 
 His constitution was thoroughly healthy; the 
 most strenuous mental exercise hardly fatigued 
 him and he could go to sleep at any hour of the 
 day he pleased. He was apt to be full of 
 pranks, too. At the piano he dominated by his 
 characteristic, powerful, and when necessary, 
 extraordinarily tender playing." Schumann, 
 
302 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 whom he now came to know in Diisseldcrrf, 
 called him the "young eagle — one of the elect." 
 In fact Schmnann, in his musical journal, 
 praised the young musiician most highly. And 
 his kindness did not stop there. He wrote to 
 Hannes' father, Jakob Brahms, in Hamburg, 
 commending in glowing terms his son's composi- 
 tions. This letter was sent to Johannes and the 
 result was the offering of some of his composi- 
 tions to Breitkopf and Hartel for publication. 
 He had already written two Sonatas, a Scherzo, 
 and a Sonata for piano and violin. The Sonata 
 in C, now known as Op. 1, although not his first 
 work, was the one in which he introduced himself 
 to the public. For, as he said: "When one first 
 shows one's self, it is to the head and not to the 
 heels that one wishes to draw attention." 
 
 Johannes made his first appearance in Leipsic, 
 as pianist and composer, at one of the David 
 Quartet Concerts, at which he played his C major 
 Sonata and the Scherzo. His success was im- 
 mediate, and as a result, he was able to secure a 
 second publisher for his Sonata Op. 5. 
 
 And now, after months of traveling, playing 
 in many towns and meeting with many musicians 
 and distinguished people, Johannes turned his 
 steps toward Hamburg, and was soon in the 
 bosom of the home circle. It is easy to imagine 
 the mother's joy, for Hannes had always been 
 the apple of her eye, and she had kept her 
 
Johannes Brahms 303 
 
 promise faithfully, to write him a letter every 
 week. But who shall measure the father's pride 
 and satisfaction to have his boy return a real 
 musical hero? 
 
 The concert journey just completed was the 
 bridge over which Johannes Brahms passed from 
 youth to manhood. With the opening year of 
 1854, he may be said to enter the portals of a 
 new life. 
 
 He now betook himself to Hanover, to be near 
 his devoted friend Joachim, plunged into work 
 and was soon absorbed in the composition of his 
 B major Piano Trio. Later Schumann and his 
 charming wife, the pianist, came to Hanover for 
 a week's visit, which was the occasion for several 
 concerts in which Brahms, Joachim and Clara 
 Schumann took part. Soon after this Schu- 
 mann's health failed and he was removed to a 
 sanatorium. In sympathy for the heavy trial 
 now to be borne by Clara Schumann, both yoimg 
 artists came to Diisseldorf, to be near the wife of 
 their adored master, Robert Schumann. There 
 they remained and by their encouragement so 
 lifted the spirits of Frau Clara that she was able 
 to resume her musical activities. 
 
 Johann had been doing some piano teaching 
 when not occupied with composition. But now, 
 on the advice of his musical friends, he decided to 
 try his luck again as a concert pianist. He be- 
 gan by joining Frau Clara and Joachim in d 
 
304 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 concert at Danzig. Each played solos. Johann's 
 were Bach's "Chromatic Fantaisie" and several 
 manuscript pieces of his own. After this the 
 young artist went his own way. He played 
 with success in Bremen, also in Hamburg. It is 
 said he was always nervous before playing, but 
 especially so in his home city. However all 
 passed off well. He now settled definitely in 
 Hamburg, making musical trips to other places 
 when necessary. 
 
 Robert Schumann rallied for a while from 
 his severe malady, and hopes were held out of 
 his final recovery. Frau Clara, having her little 
 famdly to support, resumed her concert playing 
 in good earnest, and appeared with triumphant 
 success in Vienna, London and many other cities. 
 When possible Brahms and Joachim accom- 
 panied her. Then Schxmiann's malady took an 
 unfavorable turn. When the end was near, 
 Brahms and Frau Clara went to Endenich and 
 were with the master till all was over. On Jidy 
 31, 1856, a balmy suramier evening, the mortal 
 remains of the great composer were laid to rest 
 in the little cemetery at Bonn, on the Rhine, 
 The three chief mourners were: Brahms — ^who 
 carried a laurel wreath from the wife — Joachim 
 and Dietrich. 
 
 Frau Schumann returned to Dusseldorf. the 
 next day, accompanied by Brahms and Joachim. 
 Together they set in order the papers left by the 
 
Johannes Brahms 305 
 
 composer, and assisted the widow in many little 
 ways. A little later she went to Switzerland to 
 recover her strength, accompanied by Brahms 
 and his sister Elise. A nimiber of weeks were 
 spent in rest and recuperation. By October the 
 three musicians were ready to take up their 
 ordinary routine again. Frau Clara began 
 practising for her concert season, Joachim re- 
 turned to his post in Hanover, and Johann 
 turned his face toward Hamburg, giving some 
 concerts on the way, in which he achieved pro- 
 nounced success. 
 
 The season of 1856-7, was passed unevent- 
 fully by Brahms, in composing, teaching and oc- 
 casional journeys. He may be said to have had 
 four homes, besides that of his parents in Ham- 
 burg. In Diisseldorf, Hanover, Gottingen and 
 Bonn he had many friends and was always 
 welcome. 
 
 It may be asked why Brahms, who had the 
 faculty of endearing himself so warmly to his 
 friends, never married. It is true he sometimes 
 desired to f oimd a home of his own, but in reality 
 the mistress of his absorbing passion was his art, 
 to which everything else remained secondary. 
 He never swerved a hair's breadtihi from this de- 
 votion to creative art, but accepted poverty, dis- 
 appointment, loneliness and often failure in the 
 eyes of the world, for the sake of this, his true 
 love. 
 
306 Story -Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 Johannes was now engaged as conductor of a 
 Choral Society in Detmold, also as Court Pianist 
 and teacher in the royal family. The post 
 carried with it free rooms and living, and he was 
 lodged at the Hotel Stadt Frankfort, a com- 
 fortable inn, exactly opposite the Castle, and 
 thus close to the scene of his new labors. 
 
 He began his duties by going through many 
 short choral works of the older and modern 
 masters. With othei* musicians at Court much 
 chamber music was played, in fact almost the 
 entire repertoire. The young musician soon be- 
 came a favorite at Court, not only on account of 
 his musical genius but also because of the 
 general culture of his mind. He could talk on 
 almost any subject. "Whoever wishes to play 
 well must not only practise a great deal but read 
 many books," was one of his favorite sayings. 
 One of his friends said, of meetings in Brahms' 
 rooms at night, when his boon companions 
 reveled in music: "And how Brahms loved the 
 great masters! How he played Haydn and 
 Mozart! With what beauty of interpretation 
 and delicate shading of tone. And then his 
 transposing!"- Indeed Johann thought noth- 
 ing of taking up a new composition and playing 
 it in any key, without a mistake. His score 
 reading was marvelous. Bach, Handel, Mozart, 
 Haydn, all seemed to flow naturally from under 
 his fingers. 
 
Johannes Brahms 307 
 
 The post in Detmold only required Brahms' 
 presence a part of the year, but he was engaged 
 for a term of years. The other half of the year 
 was spent in Hamburg, where he resumed his 
 activities of composing and teaching. The sum- 
 mer after his first winter in Detmold was spent 
 in Gottingen with warm friends. Clara Schu- 
 mann was there with her children, and Johann 
 was always one of the family — as a son to her. 
 He was a famous playfellow for the children, 
 too. About this time he wrote a book of charm- 
 ing Children's Folk Songs, dedicated to the chil- 
 dren of Robert and Clara Schimiann. Johann 
 was occupied with his Piano Concerto in D 
 minor. His method of working was somewhat 
 like Beethoven's, as he put down his ideas in 
 notebooks. Later on he formed the habit 
 of keeping several compositions going at 
 once. 
 
 The prelude to Johann's artistic life was suc- 
 cessfully completed. Then came a period of 
 quiet study and inward growth. A deeper 
 activity was to succeed. It opened early in the 
 year 1859, when the young musician traveled to 
 Hanover and Leipsic, bringing out his Concerto 
 in D minor. He performed it in the first named 
 city, while Joachim conducted the orchestra. 
 It was said the work "with all its serious striving, 
 its rejection of the trivial, its skilled instrumen- 
 tation, seemed difficult to understand; but the 
 
808 Story-Live» of Master Musicians 
 
 pianist was considered, not merely a virtuoso but 
 a great artist of piano playing." 
 
 The composei; jiad now to hurry to Leipsic, as 
 he was to play Vith the famous Gewandhaus 
 orchestra. How would Leipsic behave towards 
 this new and serious music? Johann was a 
 dreamer, inexperienced in the ways of the world ; 
 he was an idealist — in short, a genius gifted with 
 an "imagination, profound, original and ro- 
 mantic." The day after the concert he wrote 
 Joachim he had made a brilliant and decided 
 failure. However he was not a whit dis- 
 couraged by the apathy of the Leipsigers toward 
 his new work. He wrote: "The Concerto will 
 please some day, when I have made some im- 
 provements, and a second shall sovmd quite 
 different." 
 
 It has taken more than half a century to 
 estabUsh the favor of the Concerto, which still 
 continues on upward wing. The writer heard 
 the composer play this Concerto in Berlin, 
 toward the end of his life. He made an un- 
 forgettable figure, as he sat at the piano with his 
 long hair and beard, turning to gray; and while 
 his technic was not of the virtuoso type, he 
 created a powerful impression by his vivid inter- 
 pretation. 
 
 After these early performances of the Con- 
 certo, Johann returned to Hamburg, to his com- 
 posing and teaching. He, however, played the 
 
Johannes Brahms 309 
 
 Concerto in his native city on a distinguished oc- 
 casion, when Joachim was a soloist in Spohr's 
 Gesang-Scene, Stockhausen in a magnificent 
 Aria, and then Johann, pale, blond, slight, but 
 calm and self controlled. The Concerto scored 
 a considerable success at last, and the young 
 composer was content. 
 
 In the autimm of this year, Johann paid his 
 third visit to Detmold, and found himself 
 socially as well as musically the fashion. It was 
 the correct thing to have lessons from him and 
 his presence gave distinction to any assemblage. 
 But Johann did not wish to waste his time at 
 social ftmctions; when obliged to be present at 
 some of these events he would remain silent the 
 entire evening, or else say sharp or biting things, 
 making the hosts regret they had asked him. 
 His relations with the Court family, however, 
 remained very pleasant. Yet he began to chafe 
 under the constant demands on his time, and the 
 rigid etiquette of the little Court. The next 
 season he definitely declined the invitation to re- 
 visit Detmold, the reason given was that he had 
 not the time, as he was superAasing the publica- 
 tion of a mmaber of his works. Brahms had 
 become interested in writing for the voice, and 
 had already composed any number of beautiful 
 vocal solos and part songs. 
 
 We are told that Frau Schumann, Joachim 
 and Stockhausen came frequently to Hamburg 
 
310 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 ' ^ 
 
 during the season of 1861, and all three made 
 much of Johannes. All four gave concerts to- 
 gether, and Johannes took part in a performance 
 of Schumann's beautiful Andante and Varia- 
 tions, for two pianos, while Stockhausen sang 
 entrancingly Beethoven's Love Songs, accom- 
 panied by Brahms. On one occasion Brahms 
 played his Variations on a Handel Theme, "an- 
 other magnificent work, splendidly long, the 
 stream of ideas flowing inexhaustibly. And the 
 work was wonderfully played by the composer; 
 it seemed like a miracle. The composition is so 
 difficult that none but a great artist can attempt 
 it." So wrote a listener at the time. That was 
 in 1861. We know this wonderful work in these 
 days, for all the present time artists perform it. 
 At each of Frau Schumann's three appearances 
 in Hamburg during the autimin of this year, she 
 performed one of Brahms' larger compositions; 
 one of them was the Handel Variations. 
 
 Although one time out of ten Johann might be 
 taciturn or sharp, the other nine he would be 
 agreeable, always pleased — ^good humored, satis- 
 fied, hke a child with children. Every one hked 
 his earnest nature, his gaiety and humor. 
 
 Johann had had a great longing to see Vienna, 
 the home of so many great musicians; but felt 
 that when the right time came, the way would 
 open. And it did. Early in September, 1862, 
 he wrote a friend: "I am leaving on Monday, 
 
Johannes Brahms 311 
 
 the eighth, for Vienna. I look forward to it 
 like a chHd." 
 
 He felt at home in Vienna from the start, and 
 very soon met the leading lights of the Austrian 
 capital. On November 16, he gave his first con- 
 cert, with the Heknesberger Quartet, and before 
 a crowded house. It was a real success for 
 "Schumann's young prophet." Although con- 
 cert giving was distasteful, he appeared again on 
 December 20, and then gave a second concert 
 on January 6, 1863, when he played Bach's Chro- 
 matic Fantaisie, Beethoven's Variations in C 
 minor, his own Sonata Op. 5, and Schumann's 
 Sonata OP. 11. 
 
 Johann returned home in May, and shortly 
 after was offered the post of Conductor of the 
 Singakademie, which had just become vacant. 
 He had many plans for the summer, but finally 
 relinquished them and sent an acceptance. By 
 the last of August he was again in Vienna. 
 
 Now followed years of a busy musical Ufe. 
 Brahms made his headquarters in Vienna, and 
 while there did much composing. The wonder- 
 ful Piano Quintette, one of his greatest works, 
 the German Requiem, the Cantata Rinaldo and 
 many beautiful songs came into being during 
 this period. Every little while concert tours 
 and musical journeys were undertaken, where 
 Brahms often combined with other artists in giv- 
 ing performances of his compositions. A series 
 
312 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 of three concerts in Vienna in February and 
 March, 1869, given by Brahms and Stoekhausen, 
 were phenomenally successful, the tickets being 
 sold as soon as the concerts were announced. 
 The same series was given in Budapest with 
 equal success. 
 
 Early in the year 1872, when our composer 
 was nearly forty, we find him installed in the 
 historic rooms in the third floor of Number 4 
 Carl's Gasse, Vienna, which were to remain to 
 the end of his life the nearest approach to an 
 establishment of his own. There were three 
 small robms. The largest contained his grand 
 piano, writing table, a sofa with another table 
 in front of it. The composer was still smooth 
 of face and looked much as he did at twenty, 
 judging from his pictures. It was not until sev- 
 eral years later, about 1880, that he was adorned 
 by the long heavy beard, which gave his face such 
 a venerable appearance. 
 
 The year 1874, was full of varied excitement. 
 Many invitations were accepted to conduct his 
 works in North Germany, the Rhine, Switzer- 
 land, and other countries. A tour in Holland 
 in 1876, brought real joy. He played his D 
 minor Concerto in Utrecht and other cities, con- 
 ducted his works and was everywhere received 
 with honors. But the greatest event of this year 
 was the appearance of his first Symphony. It 
 was performed for the first time from manu- 
 
Johannes Brahms 313 
 
 script in Carlsruhe and later in many other cities. 
 In this work "Brahms' close affinity with 
 Beethoven must become clear to every musician, 
 who has not already perceived it," wrote Hans- 
 lick, the noted critic. 
 
 We have now to observe the imwearied energy 
 with which Brahms, during the years that fol- 
 lowed added one after another to his list, in 
 each and every branch of serious music; songs, 
 vocal duets, choral and instrumental works. In 
 the summer of 1877 came the Second Symphony. 
 In 1879 appeared the great Violin Concerto, 
 now acclaimed as one of the few masterpieces for 
 that instrument. It was performed by Joachim 
 at the Gewandhaus, Leipsic, early in the year. 
 There were already four Sonatas for Piaijio and 
 Violin. The Sonata in G, the Rhapsodies Op. 
 79 and the third and fourth books of Hungarian 
 Dances, as duets, were the pubhcations of 1880. 
 He now wrote a new Piano Concerto, in B flat, 
 which he played in Stuttgart for the first time, 
 November 22, 1881. In 1883 the Third Sym- 
 phony appeared, which revealed him at the zenith 
 of his powers. This work celebrated his fiftieth 
 birthday. 
 
 The Fourth Symphony was completed during 
 the simimer of 1885. Then came the Gipsy 
 Songs. 
 
 From 1889 onward, Brahms chose for his sum- 
 mer sojourn the town of Ischl, in the Salzkam- 
 
814 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 mergut. The pretty cottage where he stayed 
 was on the outskirts of the town, near the rush- 
 ing river Traun. He always dined at the 
 "Keller" of the Hotel Ehzabeth, which was 
 reached by a flight of descending steps. In this 
 quiet country, among mountain, valley and 
 stream, he could compose at ease and also see 
 his friends at the end of the day. 
 
 A visit to Italy in the spring of 1890, afforded 
 rest, refreshment and many pleasant incidents. 
 
 The "Four Serious Songs," were published in 
 the summer of 1896. At this time Brahms had 
 been settled in his rooms at Ischl scarcely a fort- 
 night when he was profoundly shaken by news 
 of Clara Schumann's death. She passed peace- 
 fully away in Frankfort, and was laid beside her 
 husband, in Bonn, May 24. Brahms was pres- 
 ent, together with many musicians and celebri- 
 ties. 
 
 The master felt this loss keenly. He spent 
 the summer in Ischl as usual, composing, among 
 other things, the Eleven Choral Preludes. Most 
 of these have death for their subject, showing 
 that his mind was taken up with the idea. His 
 friends noticed he had lost his ruddy color and 
 that his complexion was pale. In the autvunn 
 he went to Carlsbad for the cure. 
 
 After six weeks he returned to Vienna, but 
 not improved, as he had become very thin and 
 walked with faltering step. He loved to be 
 
Johannes Brahms 315 
 
 with his friends, the Fellingers, as much as pos- 
 sible, as well as with other friends. He spent 
 Christmas eve with them, and dined there the 
 next day. From this time on he grew worse. 
 He was very gentle the last months of his life, 
 and touchingly grateful for every attention shown 
 him. Every evening he would place himself at 
 the piano and improvise for half an hour. When 
 too fatigued to continue, he would sit at the 
 window till long after darkness had fallen. He 
 gradually grew weaker till he passed peacefully 
 away, April 3, 1897. 
 
 The offer of an honorary grave was made by 
 the city of Vienna, and he has found resting 
 place near Beethoven and Mozart, just as he 
 had wished. 
 
 Memorial tablets have been placed on the 
 houses in which Brahms lived in Vienna, Ischl 
 and Thun, also on the house of his birth, in Ham- 
 burg. 
 
XIX 
 
 EDWAKD GRIEG 
 
 "From every point of view Grieg is one of the most origi- 
 nal geniuses in the musical world of the present or past. 
 His songs are a mine of melody, surpassed in •wealth only 
 by Schubert, and that only because there are more of 
 Schuberfs. In originality of harmony amd modulation he 
 has only six equals. Bach, Schubert, Chopin, Schumann, 
 Wagner and Liszt. In rhythmic invention and combination 
 he is inexhaustible, and as orchestrator he ranks among the 
 most fascinating." 
 
 Hknry T. Finck 
 
 Edward Haugaeup Geieg^ "the Chopin of 
 the North," was a unique personality, as well as 
 an exceptional musician and composer. While 
 not a "wonder child," in the sense that Mozart, 
 Chopin and Li§zt were, he early showed his love 
 for music and his rapt enjoyment of the music 
 of the home circle. Fortunately he lived and 
 breathed in a musical atmosphere from his ear- 
 liest babyhood. His mother was a fine musician 
 and singer herself, and with loving care she 
 fostered the desire for it and the early studies of 
 it in her son. She was his first teacher, for she 
 kept up her own musical studies after her mar- 
 riage, and continued to appear in concerts in Ber- 
 
 316 
 
Edxmrd Grieg 317 
 
 gen, where the family lived. Little Edward, 
 one of five children, seemed to inherit the 
 mother's musical talent and had vivid recollec- 
 tions of the rhythmic animation and spirit with 
 which she played the works of Weber, who was 
 one of her favorite composers. 
 
 The piano was a world of mystery to the 
 sensitive musical child. His baby fingers ex- 
 plored the white keys to see what they sounded 
 like. When he found two notes together, form- 
 ing an interval of a third, they pleased him bet- 
 ter than one alone. Afterwards three keys as 
 a triad, were better yet, and when he could grasp 
 a chord of four or five tones with both hands, he 
 was overjoyed. Meanwhile there was much 
 music to hear. His mother practised daily her- 
 self, and entertained her musical friends in 
 weekly soirees. 'Here the best classics were per- 
 formed with zeal and true feeling, while little 
 Edward listened and absorbed music in every 
 pore. 
 
 When he was six years old piano lessons be- 
 gan. Mme. Grieg proved a strict teacher, who 
 did not allow any trifling; the dreamy child found 
 he could not idle away his time. As he wrote 
 later: "Only too soon it became clear to me I had 
 to practise just what was unpleasant. Had I not 
 inherited my mother's irrepressible energy as well 
 as her musical capacity, I should never have suc- 
 ceeded in passing from dreams to deeds." 
 
318 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 But dreams were turned into deeds before long, 
 for the child tried to set down on paper the little 
 melodies that haunted him. It is said he began 
 to do this at the age of nine. A really serious 
 attempt was made when he was twelve or thirteen. 
 This was a set of variations for piano, on a 
 German melody. He brought it to school one 
 day to show one of the boys. The teacher 
 caught sight of it and reprimanded the young 
 composer soundly, for thus idling his time. It 
 seems that in school he was fond of dreaming 
 away the hours, just as he did at the piano. 
 
 The truth was that school life was very un- 
 sympathetic to him, very narrow and mechani- 
 cal, and it is no wonder that he took every op- 
 portunity to escape and play truant. He loved 
 poetry and knew all the poems in the reading 
 books by heart; he was fond, too, of declaiming 
 them in season and out of season. 
 
 With the home atmosphere he enjoyed, the 
 boy Grieg early became famUiar with names of 
 the great composers and their works. One of 
 his idols was Chopin, whose strangely beautiful 
 harmonies were just beginning to be heard, 
 though not yet appreciated. His music must 
 have had an influence over the lad's own efforts, 
 for he always remained true to this ideal. 
 
 Another of his admirations was for Ole BuU, 
 the famous Norwegian violinist. One day in 
 summer, probably in 1858, when Edward was 
 
Edward Grieg 319 
 
 about fifteen, this "idol of his dreams" rode up 
 to the Grieg home on horseback. The family 
 had lived for the past five years at the fine estate 
 of Landaas, near Bergen. The great viohnist 
 had just returned from America and was visit- 
 ing his native town, for he too was born in Ber- 
 gen. That summer he came often to the Griegs' 
 and soon discovered the great desire of young 
 Edward for a musical career. He got the boy 
 to improvise at the piano, and also to show him 
 the little pieces he had already composed. There 
 were consultations with father and mother, and 
 then, finally, the violinist came to the boy, 
 stroked his cheek and announced; "You are to 
 go to Leipsic and become a musician." 
 
 Edward was overjoyed. To think of gaining 
 his heart's desire so easily and naturally; it all 
 seemed like a fairy tale, too good to be true. 
 
 The Leipsic Conservatory, which had been 
 founded by Mendelssohn, and later directed for 
 a short time by Schumann, was now in the hands 
 of Moscheles, distinguished pianist and conduc- 
 tor. Richter and Hauptmann, also Papperitz, 
 taught theory; Wenzel, Carl Reinecke and 
 Plaidy, piano. 
 
 Some of these later gained the reputation of 
 being rather dry and pedantic; they certainly 
 were far from comprehending the romantic trend 
 of the impressionable new pupil, for they tried to 
 curb his originality and square it with rules and 
 
320 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 customs. This process was very irksome, for 
 the boy wanted to go his own gait. 
 
 Among his fellow students at the Conserva- 
 tory were at least a half dozen who later made 
 names for themselves. They were: Arthur Sul- 
 livan, Walter Bache, Franklin Taylor, Edward 
 Dannreuther and J. F. Barnett. AU these were 
 making rapid progress in spite of dry methods. 
 So Edward Grieg began to realize that if he 
 would also accomplish anything, he must buckle 
 down to work. He now began to study with 
 frantic ardor, with scarcely time left for eating 
 and sleeping. The result of this was a complete 
 breakdown in the spring of 1860, with several 
 ailments, incipient lung trouble being the most 
 serious. Indeed it was serious enough to de- 
 prive Grieg of one lung, leaving him for the re- 
 mainder of his life somewhat delicate. 
 
 When his mother learned of his illness, she 
 hurried to Leipsic and took him back to Bergen, 
 where he slowly regained his health. His par- 
 ents now begged him to remain at home, but he 
 wished to return to Leipsic. He did so, throw- 
 ing himself into his studies with great zeal. In 
 the spring of 1862, after a course of four years, 
 he passed his examinations with credit. On this 
 occasion he played some of his compositions — ^the 
 four which have been printed as Op. 1 — and 
 achieved success, both as composer and pianist. 
 
 After a summer spent quietly with his parents 
 
Edward Grieg 321 
 
 at Landaas, he began to prepare for coming 
 musical activities. The next season he gave his 
 first concert in Bergen, at which the piano pieces 
 of Op. 1, Four Songs for Alto, and a String 
 Quartet were played. With the proceeds of 
 this concert he bought orchestral and chamber 
 music, and began to study score, which he had 
 not previously learned to do. In the spring of 
 1863 — ^he was hardly twenty then — ^he left home 
 and took up his residence in Copenhagen, a 
 much larger city, offering greater opportunties 
 for an ambitious young musician. It was also 
 the home of Niels W. Gade, the foremost Scan- 
 dinavian composer. 
 
 Of course Grieg was eager to meet Gade, and 
 an opportunity soon occurred. Gade expressed 
 a willingness to look at some of his compositions, 
 and asked if he had anything to show him. 
 Edward modestly answered in the negative. 
 "Go home and write a symphony," was the retort. 
 This the young composer started obediently to 
 do, but the work was never finished in this form. 
 It became later Two Symphonic Pieces for Piano, 
 Op. 14. 
 
 Two sources of inspiration for Grieg were Ole 
 Bull and Richard Nordraak. We remember 
 that Ole BuU was the means of influencing his 
 parents to send Edward to Leipsic. That was 
 in 1858. Six years later, when Ole Bull was 
 staying at his coimtry home, near Bergen, where 
 
322 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 he always tried to pass the summers, the two 
 formed a more intimate friendship. They played 
 frequently together, sonatas by Mozart and 
 others, or trios, in which Edward's brother John 
 played the 'cello parts. Or they wandered to- 
 gether to their favorite haunts among mountains, 
 fjords or flower clad valleys. They both wor- 
 shiped nature in all her aspects and moods, and 
 each, the one on his instrument, the other in his 
 music, endeavored to reproduce these endless in- 
 fluences. 
 
 Richard Nordraak was a young Norwegian 
 composer of great talent, who, in his brief career, 
 created a few excellent works. The two musi- 
 cians met in the winter of 1864 and were attracted 
 to each other at once. Nordraak visited Grieg in 
 his home, where they discussed music and patriot- 
 ism to their hearts' content. Nordraak was 
 intensely patriotic, and wished to see the establish- 
 ment of Norse music. Grieg, who had been more 
 or less influenced by German ideas, since Leipsic 
 days, now cast off the fetters and placed himself 
 on the side of Norwegian music. To prove this 
 he composed the Humoresken, Op. 6, and dedi- 
 cated them to Nordraak. From now on he felt 
 free to do as he pleased in music — to be himself. 
 
 In 1864 Grieg became engaged to his cousin, 
 Nina Hargerup, a slender girl of nineteen, who 
 had a lovely voice and for whom he wrote many 
 of his finest songs. He returned to Christiania 
 
Edward Grieg 323 
 
 from a visit to Rome, and decided to establish 
 himself in the Norwegian capital. Soon after 
 his arrival, in the autumn of 1856, he gave a con- 
 cert, assisted by his financee and Mme. Norman 
 Neruda, the violinist. The program was made 
 up entirely of Norwegian music, and con- 
 tained his Violin Sonata Op. 8, Humoresken, 
 Op. 6, Piano Sonata, Op. 7- There were two 
 groups of songs, by Nordraak and Kjerulf re- 
 spectively. The concert was a success with press 
 and public and the young composer's position 
 seemed assured. He secured the appointment 
 of Conductor of the Philharmonic Society, and 
 was quite the vogue as a teacher. He married 
 Nina Hargerup the following June, 1867, and 
 they resided in Christiania for the next eight 
 years. 
 
 Grieg could not endure "amateurish medioc- 
 rity," and made war upon it, thus drawing 
 jealous attacks upon himself. His great friend 
 and ally, Nordraak, passed away in 1868, and 
 the next year his baby daughter, aged thirteen 
 months, the only child he ever had, left them. 
 
 In spite of these discouragements, some of his 
 finest compositions came into being about this 
 period of his life. Songs, piano pieces and the 
 splendid Concerto followed each other in quick 
 succession. 
 
 Another satisfaction to Grieg was a most 
 sympathetic and cordial letter from Liszt on' 
 
324 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 making acquaintance with his Sonata for viohn 
 and piano, Op. 8, which he praised in high terms. 
 He invited Grieg to come and visit him, that they 
 might become better acquainted. This xmsoUc- 
 itated appreciation from the famous Liszt was a 
 fine honor for the young composer, and was the 
 means of inducing the Norwegian Government 
 to grant him an annuity. This sum enabled 
 him the following year, to go to Rome and meet 
 Liszt personally. 
 
 He set out on this errand in October, and later 
 wrote his parents of his visits to Liszt. The first 
 meeting took place at a monastery near the Ro- 
 man Forum, where Liszt made his home when in 
 town. 
 
 "I took with me my last violin Sonata, the 
 Funeral March on the death of Nordraak and a 
 volume of songs. I need not have been anxious, 
 for Liszt was kindness itself. He came smiling 
 towards me and said in the most genial manner: 
 
 " 'We have had some httle correspondence, 
 haven't we?' 
 
 "I told him it was thanks to his letters that I 
 was now here. He eyed somewhat hungrily the 
 package under my arm, his long, spider-like 
 fingers approaching it in such an alarming man- 
 ner that I thought it advisable to open at once. 
 He turned over the leaves, reading through the 
 Sonata. He had now become interested, but my 
 courage dropped to zero when he asked me to 
 
Edward Grieg 325 
 
 play the Sonata, but there was no help for it. 
 
 "So I started on his splendid American 
 Chickering grand. Right in the beginning, 
 where the violin starts in, he exclaimed: 'How 
 bold that is ! Look here, I like that ; once more 
 please.' And where the viohn again comes in 
 adagio^ he played the part on the upper octaves 
 with an expression so beautiful, so marvelously 
 true and singing, it made me smile inwardly. 
 My spirits rose because of his lavish approval, 
 which did me good. After the first movement, I 
 asked his permission to play a solo, and chose the 
 Minuet, from the Humoresken." 
 
 At this point Grieg was brave enough to ask 
 Liszt to play for him. This the master did in a 
 superb manner. To go on with the letter: 
 
 "When this was done, Liszt said jauntily, 'Now 
 let us go on with the Sonata' ; to which I natur- 
 ally retorted, 'No thank you, not after this.' 
 
 " 'Why not? Then give it to me, I'll do it.' 
 And what does Liszt do? He plays the whole 
 thing, root and branch, violin and piano; nay 
 more, for he plays it fuller and more broadly. 
 He was literally over the whole piano at once, 
 without missing a note. And how he did play! 
 With grandeur, beauty, unique comprehension. 
 
 "Was this not geniality itself? No other great 
 man I have met is like him. I played the 
 Funeral March, which was also to his taste. 
 Then, after a little talk, I took leave, with the 
 
326 Sitory-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 consciousness of having spent two of the most in- 
 teresting hours of my life." 
 
 The second meeting with Liszt took place 
 soon after this. Of it he writes in part : 
 
 "I had fortunately received the manuscript of 
 my Concerto from Leipsic, and took it with me. 
 A number of musicians were present. 
 
 " 'Will you play?' asked Liszt. I answered 
 in the negative, as you know I had never prac- 
 tised it. Liszt took the manuscript, went to the 
 piano, and said to the assembled guests: 'Very 
 well, then, I will show you that I also cannot.' 
 Then he began. I admit that he took the first 
 part too fast, but later on, when I had a chance 
 to indicate the tempo, he played as only he can 
 play. His demeanor is worth any price to see. 
 Not content with playing, he at the same time 
 converses, addressing a bright remark now to 
 one, now to another of his guests, nodding from 
 right to left, particularly when something pleases 
 him. In the Adagio, and still more in the Finale, 
 he reached a climax, both in playing and in the 
 praise he bestowed. 
 
 "When all was over, he handed me the manu- 
 script, and said, in a pecuKarly cordial tone: 
 'Keep steadily on ; you have the ability, and — do 
 not let them intimidate you!' 
 
 "This final admonition was of tremendous im- 
 portance to me ; there was something in it like a 
 sanctification. When disappointment and bit- 
 
Edward Grieg 327 
 
 temess are in store for me, I shall recall his words, 
 and the Remembrance of that hour will have a 
 wonderful power to uphold me in days of ad- 
 versity." 
 
 When Edward Grieg was a little over thirty, 
 in the year 1874, the Norwegian Government 
 honored him with an annuity of sixteen hundred 
 crowns a year, for life. Another good fortune 
 was a request from the distinguished poet, Hen- 
 rik Ibsen, to produce music for his drama of 
 "Peer Gynt." 
 
 With the help of the aimuity Grieg was able 
 to give up teaching and conducting and devote 
 himself to composition. He left Christiania, 
 where he and Mme. Grieg had resided for eight 
 years, and came back for a time to Bergen. 
 Here, in January 1874, Ibsen offered him the 
 proposition of writing music for his work, for 
 which he was arranging a stage production. 
 
 Grieg was delighted with the opportunity, for 
 such a task was very congenial. He completed 
 the score in the autumn of 1875. The first per- 
 formance was given on February 24, 1876, at 
 Christiania. Grieg himself was not present, as 
 he was then in Bergen. The play proved a real 
 success and was given thirty-six times that 
 season, for which success the accompanying 
 original and charming music was largely re- 
 sponsible. 
 
 Norway is a most picturesque country, and no 
 
328 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 one could be more passionately fond of her 
 mountains, fjords, valleys and waterfalls than 
 Edward Grieg. For several years he now chose 
 to live at Lofthus, a tiny village, situated on a 
 branch of the Hardanger Fjord. It is said no 
 spot could have been more enchanting. The 
 little study, consisting of one room, where the 
 composer could work in perfect quiet, was 
 perched among the trees above the fjord, with a 
 dashing waterfall near by. No wonder Grieg 
 could write of the "Butterfly," the "Little Bird," 
 and "To the Spring," in such poetical, vivid har- 
 monies. He had only to look from his window 
 and see the marvels of nature about him. 
 
 A few years later he built a beautiful villa at 
 Troldhaugen, not far from Bergen, where he 
 spent the rest of his life. Some American 
 friends who visited them in 1901, speak of the 
 ideal existence of the artist pair. Grieg himself 
 is described as very small and frail looking, with 
 a face as individual, as unique and attractive as 
 his music — ^the face of a thinker, a genius. His 
 eyes were keen and blue; his hair, almost white, 
 was brushed backward like Liszt's. His hands 
 were thin and small; they were wonderful hands 
 and his touch on the piano had the luscious 
 quality of Paderewski's. Mme. Grieg received 
 them with a fascinating smile and won all hearts 
 by her appearance and charm of manner. She 
 was short and plump, with short wavy gray hair 
 
Edward Grieg 329 
 
 and dark blue eyes. Her sister, who resembled 
 her strongly, made up the rest of the family. 
 Grieg called her his "second wife" and they 
 seemed a most united family. 
 
 Here, too, Grieg had his little work cabin 
 away from the house, down a steep path, among 
 the trees of the garden. In this tiny retreat he 
 composed many of his unique pieces. 
 
 As a pianist, there are many people living 
 who have heard Grieg play, and all agree that 
 his performance was most poetical and beautiful. 
 He never had great power, for a heavy wagon 
 had injured one of his hands, and he had lost the 
 use of one of his lungs in youth. But he always 
 brought out lyric parts most expressively, and 
 had a "wonderfully crisp and buoyant execution 
 in rhythmical passages." He continued to play 
 occasionally in different cities, and with increased 
 frequency made visits to England, France and 
 Germany, to make known his compositions. He 
 was in England in the spring of 1888, for on May 
 3, the London Philharmonic gave almost an en- 
 tire program of Grieg's music. He acted in the 
 three-fold capacity of composer, conductor and 
 pianist. It was said by one of the critics : "Mr. 
 Grieg played his own Concerto in A minor, after 
 his own manner ; it was a revelation." Another 
 wrote; "The Concerto is very beautiful. The 
 dreamy charm of the opening movement, the 
 long-drawn sweetness of the Adagio, the grace- 
 
330 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 ful, fairy music of the final Allegro — ^all this 
 went straight to the hearts of the audience. 
 Grieg as a conductor gave equal satisfaction. It 
 is to be hoped the greatest representative of 'old 
 Norway' will come amongst us every year." 
 
 Grieg did return the next year and appeared 
 with the Philharmonic, March 14, 1889. The 
 same critic then wrote : 
 
 "The hero of the evening was unquestionably 
 Mr. Grieg, the heroine being Madame Grieg, 
 who sang in her own unique and most artistic 
 fashion, a selection of her husband's songs, he 
 accompanying with great delicacy and poetic feel- 
 ing. Grieg is so popular in London, both as 
 composer and pianist, that when he gave his last 
 concert, people were waiting in the street before 
 the doors from eleven in the morning, quite as 
 in the old Rubinstein days." 
 
 In only a few cities did the artist pair give 
 their unique piano and song recitals. These 
 were: Christiania, Copenhagen, Leipsic, Rome, 
 Paris, London and Edinburgh. They were in- 
 deed artistic events, in which Nina Grieg was 
 also greatly admired. While not a great singer, 
 it was said she had the captivating abandon, 
 dramatic vivacity and soulful treatment of the 
 poem, which reminded of Jenny Lind. 
 
 Mme. Grieg made her last public appearance 
 in London in 1898. After that she sang only 
 for her husband and his friends. 
 
Edward Grieg 331 
 
 Grieg's sixtieth birthday, June 15, 1903, was 
 celebrated in the cities of Scandanavia, through- 
 out Europe and also in America : thus he lived to 
 see the recognition of his unique genius in many 
 parts of the world. 
 
 Grieg was constantly using up his strength by 
 too much exertion. To a friend in 1906, he 
 wrote : "Yes, at your age it is ever hurrah- vivat. 
 At my age we say, sempre diminuendo. And 
 I can tell you it is not easy to make a beautiful 
 diminuendo." Yet he still gave concerts, saying 
 he had not the strength of character to refuse. 
 Indeed he had numerous offers to go to America, 
 which he refused as he felt he could not endure 
 the sea voyage. Always cheerful, even viva- 
 cious, he kept up bravely until almost the end of 
 his life, but finally, the last of August, 1907, he 
 was forced to go to a hospital in Bergen. On 
 the night of September 3, his life ebbed away 
 in sleep. 
 
 The composer who through his music had en- 
 deared himself to the whole world, was granted 
 a touching funeral, at which only his own music 
 was heard, including his Funeral March, which 
 he had composed for his friend Nordraak. The 
 burial place is as romantic as his music. Near 
 his home there is a steep cliff, about fifty feet 
 high, projecting into the fjord. Half way up 
 there is a natural grotto, which can only be 
 reached by water. In this spot, chosen by Grieg 
 
332 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 himself, the urn containing his ashes was de- 
 posited some weeks after the funeral. Then the 
 grotto was closed and a stone slab with the words 
 "Edward Grieg" cut upon it, was cemented in the 
 cliff. 
 
Peter Ilyitch Tschaikowsky 
 
XX 
 
 PETER ILYITCH TSCHAIKOWSKY 
 
 Russian composers and Russian music are ea- 
 gerly studied by those who would keep abreast of 
 the time. This music is so saturated with strong, 
 vigorous life that it is inspiring to listen to. Its 
 rugged strength, its fascinating rhythms, bring a 
 new message. It is different from the music of 
 other countries and at once attracts by its un- 
 usual melodies and its richness of harmony. 
 
 Among the numerous composers of modern 
 Russia, the name of Peter Ilyitch Tschaikowsky 
 stands out most prominently. This distinctive 
 composer was born on April 28, 1840, in Votinsk, 
 where his father, who was a mining engineer, had 
 been appointed inspector of Qie mines at Kamsko- 
 Votinsk. The position of manager of such im- 
 portant mines carried with it much luxury, a fine 
 house, plenty of servants and an ample salary. 
 Thus the future young musician's home life was 
 not one of poverty and privation, 'as has been the 
 lot of so many gifted- ones, who became creators 
 in the beautiful art of music. 
 
 Peter Ilyitch was less than five years old when 
 
 333 
 
334 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 a new governess came into the family, to teach 
 his elder brother Nicholas and his cousin Lydia. 
 As a little boy he was apt to be untidy, with but- 
 tons missing and rumpled hair. But his nature 
 was so affectionate and sympathetic that he 
 charmed every one with his pretty, loving ways. 
 This natural gift he always retained. The gov- 
 erness was a very superior person and her in- 
 fluence over her young charges was healthful and 
 beneficial. The child Peter was most industrious 
 at his lessons ; but for recreation often preferred 
 playing the piano, reading, or writing poetry, to 
 playing with other children. 
 
 When Peter was eight, the family moved to 
 St. Petersburg, and the two younger boys were 
 sent to boarding school. The parting from his 
 home but especially from his mother — though he 
 saw her once a week — ^nearly broke his heart. 
 Such a school was no place for a sensitive, high- 
 strung boy like Peter, who needed the most 
 tender fostering care. The work of the school 
 was very heavy, the hours long. The boys often 
 -sat over their books till far into the night. Be- 
 sides the school work, Peter had music lessons of 
 the pianist Philipov, and made rapid progress. 
 At this time music in general excited the boy 
 abnormally ; a hand organ in the street would en- 
 chant him, an orchestra strangely agitated him. 
 He seemed to live at a high strung, nervous ten- 
 
Peter Ilyitch Tschaikotvsky 335 
 
 sion, and had frequent ailments, which kept him 
 out of school. 
 
 In 1849 the father secured another appoint- 
 ment, this time at Alapaiev, a little town, where, 
 though there was not so much luxury, the family 
 tried to revive the home life of Votinsk. 
 
 No one at Alapaiev seemed to take any inter- 
 est in the boy Peter's music. He was really 
 making great progress, for he had learned much 
 in the lessons he had taken in St. Petersburg. 
 He studied many pieces by himself, and often 
 improvised at the piano. His parents did noth- 
 ing to further his musical education; this may 
 have been because they were afraid of a return 
 of the nervous disorders that the quiet of the 
 present home surroundings had seemed to cure. 
 
 From the fact that the father had held gov- 
 ernment appointments, his sons were eligible for 
 education at the School of Jurisprudence. 
 Peter was accordingly entered there as a scholar, 
 and completed his course at the age of nineteen. 
 In those nine years the child Peter developed into 
 maturity. During this period he suffered the loss 
 of his mother, a handsome and very estimable 
 woman, whom he adored with passionate devo- 
 tion, and from whom he could never bear to be 
 separated. 
 
 While attending the Law School, music had to 
 be left in the background. His family and com- 
 
336 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 panions only considered it as a pastime at best, 
 and without serious significance; he therefore 
 kept his aspirations to himself. The old boyish 
 discontent and irritability, which were the result 
 of his former nervous condition, had now given 
 place to his natural frankness of character and 
 charm of manner, which attracted all who came in 
 contact with him. 
 
 In 1859, when Peter had finished his studies 
 at the School of Jurisprudence, he received an 
 appointment in the Ministry of Justice, as clerk 
 of the first class. This would have meant much 
 to some young men, but did not greatly impress 
 Peter, as he did not seem to take his work very 
 seriously. During the three years in which he 
 held the post, he followed the fashion of the day, 
 attended the opera and theater, meanwhile re- 
 ceiving many impressions which molded his char- 
 acter and tastes. The opera "Don Giovanni," 
 Mozart's masterpiece, made a deep impression 
 upon him, also the acting of Adelaide Ristori 
 and the singing of Lagrona. 
 
 The new Conservatoire of Music was founded 
 at St. Petersburg in 1862, with Anton Rubin- 
 stein as director, and Tschaikowsky lost no time 
 in entering as a pupil, studying composition and 
 kindred subjects with Professor Zaremba. His 
 progress was so rapid in the several branches he 
 took up — piano, organ and flute — ^that Rubin- 
 stein advised him to make music his profession. 
 
Peter Ilyitch Tschaikowsky 337 
 
 and throw his law studies to. the winds. Thanks 
 to Rubinstein, he secured some pupils and also 
 engagements as accompanist. Meanwhile he 
 worked industriously at composition, and one of 
 his pieces was a Concert Overture in F, scored 
 for small orchestra. In 1865 he took his diploma 
 as a musician and also secured a silver medal for a 
 cantata. One year after this the Moscow Con- 
 servatoire was founded, with Nicholas Rubin- 
 stein at its head. The position of Professor of 
 Composition and Musical History was offered to 
 Tschaikowsky, then only twenty-six. It was a 
 flattering offer for so young a man, when many 
 older heads would have liked to secure such an 
 honor. He moved to Moscow, and retained his 
 position in the Conservatoire for at least twelve 
 years, in the meantime making many friends for 
 himself and his art, as his fame as a composer 
 grew. One of these friends was the publisher 
 Jurgenson, who was to play rather an important 
 part in the composer's life, through accepting 
 and putting forth his compositions. 
 
 During those first years in Moscow, Tschai- 
 kowsky made his home with Nicholas Rubinstein. 
 His life was of the jsimplest, his fare always so. 
 Later on when money was more abundant, and 
 he had his own house in the country, he hved with 
 just the same simplicity. One would think that 
 all this care and thought for expense would have 
 taught him the value of money. Not at all. He 
 
338 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 never could seem to learn its value, never cared 
 for it, and never could keep it. He liked to toss 
 his small change among groups of street boys, and 
 it is said he once spent his last roubles in sending 
 a cablegram to von Biilow in America, to thank 
 him for his admirable performance of his first 
 Piano Concerto. Often his friends protested 
 against this prodigality, but it was no use to pro- 
 test, and at last they gave up in despair. 
 
 Soon after he began his professorship in Mos- 
 cow, he composed a Concert Overture in C minor. 
 To his surprise and disappointment, Rubinstein 
 disapproved of the work in every way. This 
 was a shock, after the lack of encouragement in 
 St. Petersburg. But he recovered his poise, 
 though he made up his mind to try his next work 
 in St. Petersburg instead of Moscow. He called 
 the new piece a Symphonic Poem, "Winter Day- 
 dreams," but it is now known as the First Sym- 
 phony, Op. 13. About the end of 1866, he 
 started out with it, only to be again rebuflPed and 
 cast down. The two men whose good opinion he 
 most desired, Anton Rubinstein and Professor 
 Zaremba, could find nothing good in his latest 
 work, and the young composer returned to 
 Moscow to console himself with renewed efforts 
 in composition. Two years later the "Winter 
 Daydreams" Symphony was produced in 
 Moscow with great success, and its author was 
 much encouraged by this appreciation. He was. 
 
Peter llyitch Tschaikowsky 339 
 
 like most composers, very sensitive to criticism 
 and had a perfect dread of controversy. 
 Efforts to engage him in arguments of this sort 
 only made him withdraw into himself. 
 
 Tschaikowsky. held the operas of Mozart he- 
 fore him as his ideal. He cared little for 
 Wagner, considering his music dramas to be 
 built on false principles. Thus his first opera, 
 "Voivoda," composed ia 1866, evidently had his 
 ideal, Mozart, clearly in mind. It is a some- 
 what curious fact that Tschaikowsky, who was 
 almost revolutionary in other forms of music, 
 should go back to the eighteenth century for his 
 ideal of opera. Soon after it was completed 
 "Voivoda" was accepted to be produced at the 
 Moscow Grand Theater. The libretto was 
 written by Ostrowsky, one of the celebrated 
 dramatists of the day. The first performance 
 took place on January 30, 1869. We are told 
 it had several performances and considerable 
 popular success. But the composer was dis- 
 satisfied with its failure to win a great artistic 
 success, and burnt the score. He did the same 
 with his next work, an orchestral fantaisie, 
 entitled "Fatum." Again he did the same with 
 the score of a complete opera, "Undine," finished 
 in 1870, and refused at the St. Petersburg 
 Opera, where he had offered it. 
 
 "The Snow Queen," a fairy play with music, 
 was the yoimg Russian's next adventure; it was 
 
340 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 mounted and produced with great care, yet it 
 failed to make a favorable impression. But 
 these disappointments did not dampen the com- 
 poser's ardor for work. Now it was in the 
 realm of chamber music. Up to this time he 
 had not seemed to care greatly for this branch of 
 his art, for he had always felt the lack of tone 
 coloring and variety in the strings. The first 
 attempt at a String Quartet resulted in the one 
 in D major. Op. 11. To-day, fifty years after, 
 we enjoy the rich coloring, the characteristic 
 rhythms of this music; the Andante indeed makes 
 special appeal. A bit of history about this same 
 Andante shows how the composer prized 
 national themes and folk tunes, and strove to 
 secure them. It is said that morning after 
 morning he was awakened by the singing of a 
 laborer, working on the house below his window. 
 The song had a haunting lilt, and Tschaikowsky 
 wrote it down. The melody afterwards became 
 that touching air which fills the Andante of the 
 First String Quartet. Another String Quartet, 
 in F major, was written in 1814, and at once ac- 
 claimed by all who heard it, with the single ex- 
 ception of Anton Rubinstein. 
 
 Tschaikowsky wrote six Symphonies in all. 
 The Second, in C minor was composed in 1873; 
 in this he used themes in the first and last move- 
 ments, which were gathered in Little Russia. 
 The work was produced with great success in 
 
Peter Ilyiteh Tschaikowsky 341 
 
 Moscow in 1873. The next orchestral composi- 
 tion was a Symphonic Poem, called "The 
 Tempest," with a regular program, prepared by 
 Stassow. It was brought out in Paris at the 
 same time it was heard in Moscow. Both at 
 home and in France it made a deep impression. 
 The next work was the splendid piano Concerto 
 in B flat minor. Op. 23, the first of three works 
 of this kind. At a trial performance of it, his 
 friend and former master, Nicholas Rubinstein, 
 to whom it was dedicated, and who had promised 
 to play the piano part, began to criticize it un- 
 mercifully and ended by saying it was quite un- 
 playable, and unsuited to the piano. 
 
 No one could blame the composer for being 
 offended and hurt. He at once erased the name 
 of Nicholas Rubinstein from the title page and 
 dedicated the work to Hans von Biilow, who not 
 long after performed it with tremendous success 
 in America, where he was on tour. When we 
 think of all the pianists who have won acclaim 
 in this tanperamental, inspiring work, from Car- 
 reno to Percy Grainger, to mention two who 
 have aroused special enthusiasm by their thrill- 
 ing performance of it, we can but wonder that 
 his own countrymen were so short sighted at 
 the time it was composed. Later on Nicholas 
 Rubinstein gave a superb perfonnance of the 
 Concerto in Moscow, thus making some tardy 
 amends for his unkindness. 
 
842 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 Tschaikowsky was now thirty-five. Most of 
 his time was given to the Conservatoire, where he 
 often worked nine hours a day. Besides, he had 
 written a book on harmony, and was contribut- 
 ing articles on music to two journals. In com- 
 position he had produced' large works, including 
 up to this time, two Symphonies, two Operas, 
 the Concerto, two String Quartets and numer- 
 ous smaller pieces. To accomplish such an 
 amount of work, he must have possessed immense 
 energy and devotion to his ideals. 
 
 One of the operas just mentioned was entitled 
 "Vakoula the Smith." It bears the date of 1874, 
 and was first offered in competition with others. 
 The result was that it not only was considered 
 much the best work of them all but it won both 
 the first and second prizes. "Vakoula" was 
 splendidly mounted and performed in St. Peters- 
 burg, at the Marinsky Theater at least seven- 
 teen times. Ten years later, in January 1887, it 
 appeared again. The composer meanwhile had 
 re-written a good part of it and now called it 
 "Two Little Shoes." This time Tschaikowsky 
 was invited to conduct his own work. The in- 
 vitation filled him with alarm, for he felt he had 
 no gift in that direction, as he had tried a couple 
 of times in the early years of his career and had 
 utterly failed. However, he now, through the 
 cordial sympathy of friends, decided to make the 
 
Peter Ilyitch TscTiaikotashy 343 
 
 attempt. Contrary to his own fears, he obtained 
 a successful performance of the opera. 
 
 It proved an epoch-making occasion. For 
 this first success as conductor led him to under- 
 take a three months' tour through western 
 Europe in 1888. On his return to St. Peters- 
 burg he conducted a program of his own com- 
 positions for the Philharmonic Society, which 
 was also successful, in spite of the intense 
 nervousness which he always suffered. As a re- 
 sult of his concert he received offers to conduct 
 concerts in Hamburg, Dresden, Leipsic, Vienna, 
 Copenhagen and London, many of which he ac- 
 cepted. 
 
 To go back a bit in our composer's life story, 
 to an affair of the heart which he experienced in 
 1868. He became engaged to the well-known 
 singer Desiree Artot; the affair never went 
 further, for what reason is not known. He was 
 not yet thirty, impressionable and intense. 
 Later on, in the year 1877, at the age of thirty- 
 seven, he became a married man. How this 
 happened was doubtless told in his diaries, which 
 were written with great regularity: but un- 
 fortxmately he destroyed them all a few years 
 before his death. The few facts that have been 
 gleaned from his intimate friend, M. Kashkin, 
 are that he was engaged to the lady in the spring 
 of this year, and married her a month or so after- 
 
344 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 ward. It was evidently a hasty affair and sub- 
 sequently brought untold suffering to the com- 
 poser. When the professors of his Conserva- 
 toire re-assembled in the autumn, Tschaikowsky 
 appeared among them a married man, but look- 
 ing the picture of despair. A few weeks later 
 he fled from Moscow, and when next heard of 
 was lying dangerously ill in St. Petersburg. 
 One thing was evident, the ill-considered 
 marriage came very near ruining his life. The 
 doctors ordered rest and change of scene, and his 
 brother Modeste Ilyitdh took him to Switzerland 
 and afterward to Italy. The peaceful life and 
 change of scene did much to restore his shattered 
 nerves. Just at this time a wealthy widow lady, 
 Madame von Meek, a great admirer of Tschai- 
 kowsky's music, learning of his sad condition, 
 settled on him a generous yearly allowance for 
 life. He was now independent and could give 
 his time to composition. 
 
 The following year he returned to Moscow 
 and seemed quite his natural self. A fever of 
 energy for work took possession of him. He 
 began a new opera, "Eugen Onegin," and com- 
 pleted his Fourth Symphony, in F minor. The 
 score of the opera was finished in February, 
 1878, and sent at once to Moscow, where the first 
 performance was given in March 1879. In the 
 beginning the opera had only a moderate suc- 
 cess, but gradually grew in favor till, after five 
 
Peter Ilyitch Tschaikowsky 345 
 
 years, it was performed in St. Petersburg and 
 had an excellent reception. It is considered 
 Tschaikowsky's most successful opera, sharing 
 with Glinka's "Life of the Tsar" the popularity 
 of Russian opera. In 1881 he was invited to 
 compose an orchestral work for the consecration 
 of the Temple of Christ in Moscow. The 
 "Solemn Overture 1812," Op. 49, was the out- 
 come of this. Later in the year he completed 
 the Second Piano Concerto. The Piano Trio in 
 A minor, "To the memory of a great artist," Op. 
 50, refers to his friend and former master, 
 Nicholas Rubinstein, who passed away in Paris, 
 in 1881. 
 
 Tschaikowsky's opera, "Mazeppa," was his 
 next important work. In the same year the 
 Second Orchestral Suite, Op. 53, and the Third, 
 Op. 55, followed. Two Symphonic Poems, 
 "Manfred" and "Hamlet" came next. The 
 latter of these was written at the composer's 
 country house, whose purchase had been made 
 possible by the generosity of his benefactress, 
 and to which he retired at the age of forty-five, 
 to lead a peaceful country life. He had pur- 
 chased the old manor house of Frovolo, on the 
 outskirts of the town of KUn, near Moscow. 
 Here his two beautiful ballets and two greatest 
 Symphonies, the Fifth and Sixth, were writte^. 
 The Fifth Symphony was composed in 1888 and 
 published the next year. On its first hearing it 
 
346 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 made little impression and was scarcely heard 
 again till Nikisch, with unerring judgment, 
 rescued it from neglect; then the world dis- 
 covered it to be one of the composer's greatest 
 works. 
 
 Tschaikowsky's two last operas, the "Pique 
 Dame" (Queen of Spades), Op. 68, and "King 
 Rene's Daughter" are not considered in any way 
 distinctive, although the former was performed 
 in New York, at the Metropolitan. The Third 
 Piano Concerto, Op. 75, occupied the master 
 during his last days at Frovolo; it was left un- 
 finished by him and was completed by the com- 
 poser Taneiev. The wonderful Sixth Sym- 
 phony, Op. 74, is a superb example of Tschai- 
 kowsky's genius. It was composed in 1893, and 
 the title "Pathetic" was given it by the composer 
 after its first performance, in St. Petersburg, 
 shortly before his death, as the reception of it by 
 the public did not meet his anticipations. In 
 this work the passion and despair which fill so 
 many of the master's finest compositions, rise to 
 the highest tragic significance. The last move- 
 ment, with its prophetic intimation of his coming 
 death, is heart-breaking. One cannot listen to 
 its poignant phrases without deep emotion. 
 The score is dated August 31, 1893, On 
 October twelfth, Tschaikowsky passed away in 
 St. Petersburg, a victim of cholera. 
 
 A couple of years before he passed away, 
 
Peter Ilyitch TschaikowsJey 847 
 
 Tschiakowsky came to America. In May, 1891, 
 he conducted four concerts connected with the 
 formal opening of Carnegie Hall, New York. 
 We well remember his interesting personality, 
 as he stood before the orchestra, conducting 
 many of his own works, with Adele Aus der 
 Ohe playing his famous Concerto in B flat 
 minor. 
 
 The music of this representative Russian com- 
 poser has made rapid headway in the world's ap- 
 preciation, during the last few years. Once 
 heard it will always be remembered. For we 
 can never forget the deeply human and touching 
 message which is brought to us through the 
 music of Peter Ilyitch Tschaikowsky. 
 
XXI 
 
 EDWARD MacDOWELL 
 
 Edwabd MacDowell has been acclaimed 
 America's greatest composer. If we try to sub- 
 stitute another name in its place, one of equal 
 potency cannot be found. 
 
 Our composer's ancestors were Irish and 
 Scotch, though his father was bom in New York 
 City and his mother was an American girl. 
 Edward was their third son, and appeared 
 December 18, 1861; this event happened at the 
 home of his parents, 220 Clinton Street^ New 
 York. 
 
 The father was a man of artistic instincts, and 
 as a youth, fond of drawing and painting. His 
 parents had been Quakers of a rather severe sort 
 and had discouraged all such artistic efforts. 
 Little Edward seems to have inherited his 
 father's artistic gifts, added to his own inclina- 
 tion toward music. 
 
 The boy had his first piano lessons when he 
 was about eight years old, from a family friend, 
 Mr. Juan Buitrago, a native of Bogota, South 
 America. Mr. Buitrago became greatly inter- 
 
 348 
 
Edward MacDowell 349 
 
 ested in Edward and asked permission to teach 
 him his notes. At that time the boy was not 
 considered a prodigy, or even precocious, though 
 he seemed to have various gifts. He was fond 
 of covering his music and exercise books with 
 little drawings, which showed he had the innate 
 skill of a bom artist. Then he hked to scribble 
 bits of verses and stories and invent fairy tales. 
 He could improvise little themes at the piano, 
 but was not fond of technical drudgery at the 
 instrument in those early days. 
 
 The lessons with Mr. Buitrago continued for 
 several years, and then he was taken to a pro- 
 fessional piano teacher, Paul Desvernine, with 
 whom he remained till he was fifteen. During 
 this time he received occasional lessons from the 
 brilliant Venezuelan pianist, Teresa Carreno, 
 who admired his gifts and later played his piano 
 concertos. 
 
 Edward was now fifteen, and his family con- 
 sidered he was to become a musician. In those 
 days and for long after, even to the present 
 moment, it was thought necessary for Americans 
 to go to Europe for serious study and artistic 
 finish. It was therefore determined the boy 
 should go to Paris for a course in piano and 
 theory at the Conservatoire. In April, 1876, 
 accompanied by his mother, he left America for 
 France. 
 
 He passed the examinations and began the 
 
350 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 autumn term as a pupil of Mannontel in piano 
 and of Savard in theory and composition. 
 
 Edward's knowledge of French was very un- 
 certain, and while he could get along fairly well 
 in the piano class, he had considerable trouble in 
 following the lessons in theory. He determined 
 to make a special study of the language, and a 
 teacher was engaged to give him private lessons. 
 
 His passion for drawing was liable to break 
 out at any moment. During one of the lesson 
 hours he was varying the monotony by drawing, 
 behind his book, a picture of his teacher, whose 
 special facial characteristic was a very large nose. 
 Just as the sketch was finished he was detected 
 and was asked to show the result. The pro- 
 fessor, instead of being angry, considered it a re- 
 markable likeness and asked to keep it. Shortly 
 after this the professor called on Mrs. Mac- 
 Dowell, telling her he had shown the drawing to 
 an eminent painter, also an instructor at the 
 ficole des Beaux Arts. The painter had been so 
 greatly impressed with the boy's talent that he 
 offered him a three years' course of free instruc- 
 tion, under his own supervision. He also 
 promised to be responsible for Edward's support 
 during that time. 
 
 This was a vital question to decide; the boy's 
 whole future hung in the balance. Mrs. Mac- 
 Dowell, in her perplexity, laid the whole matter 
 before Marmontel, who strongly advised against 
 
Edward MacDowell 351 
 
 diverting her son from a musical career. The 
 decision was finally left to Edward himself, and 
 he chose to remain at the Conservatoire, 
 
 Conditions there, however, were not just to 
 his liking, and after two years he began to think 
 the school was not the place for him. It was 
 the simmier of 1878, the year of the Exposition. 
 Edward and his mother attended a festival con- 
 cert and heard Nicholas Rubinstein play the 
 Tschaikowsky B flat minor piano Concerto. 
 His performance was a revelation. "I can never 
 learn to play the piano like that if I stay here," 
 exclaimed Edward, as they left the hall. 
 
 They began to consider the merits of the 
 different European schools of music, and finally 
 chose Stuttgart. Mrs. MacDowell and her son 
 went there in November hoping that in this 
 famous Conservatory coidd be found the right 
 kind of instruction. 
 
 But alas, MacDowell soon found out his mis- 
 take. He discovered that he would have to un- 
 learn all he had acquired and begin from the be- 
 ginning. And even then the instruction was not 
 very thorough. 
 
 They now thought of Frankfort, where the 
 composer Joachim Raff was the director and 
 Carl Heymann, a very brilliant pianist, was one 
 of the instructors. 
 
 After months of delay, during which young 
 MacDowell worked under the guidance of Eh- 
 
352 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 lert, he at last entered the Frankfort Conserva- 
 tory, studying composition with Raff, and piano 
 with Heymann. Both proved very inspiring 
 teachers. For Heymann he had the greatest 
 admiration, calling him a marvel, whose technic 
 was equal to anything. "In hearing him practise 
 and play, I learned more in a week than I ever 
 knew before." 
 
 Edward MacDowell remained in close study 
 at the Frankfort Conservatory for two years, his 
 mother having in the meantime returned to 
 America. He had hoped to obtain a place as 
 professor on the teaching staff of the institution. 
 Failing to do this he took private pupils. One 
 of these, Missr Marian Nevins, he afterwards 
 married. He must have been a rather striking 
 looking youth at this time. He was nineteen. 
 Tall and vigorous, with blue eyes, fair skin, rosy 
 cheeks, very dark hair and reddish mustache, he 
 was called "the handsome American." He 
 seemed from the start, to have success in 
 teaching, though he was painfully shy, and 
 always remained so. 
 
 In 1881, when he was twenty, he applied for 
 the position of head piano teacher in the Darm- 
 stadt Conservatory, and was accepted. It meant 
 forty hours a week of drudgery, and as he pre- 
 ferred to live in Frankfort, he made the trip 
 each day between the two towns. Besides this 
 he went once a week to a castle about three hours 
 
Edward MacDoiaell 353 
 
 away, and taught some little counts and 
 countesses, really dull and sleepy children, who 
 cared but little if anything for music. How- 
 ever the twelve hours spent in the train each 
 week, were not lost, as he composed the greater 
 part of his Second Modern Suite for piano. Op. 
 14 ; the First Modem Suite had been written in 
 Frankfort the year before. He was reading at 
 this period a great deal of poetry, both Grcrman 
 and EngUsh, and delving into the folk and fairy 
 lore of romantic Germany. AU these imagina- 
 tive studies exerted great influence on his sub- 
 sequent compositions, both as to subject and con- 
 tent. 
 
 MacDowell found that the confining labors at 
 Darmstadt were telling on his strength, so he 
 gave up the position and remained in Frankfort, 
 dividing his time between private teaching and 
 composing. He hoped to secure a few paying 
 concert engagements, as those he had already 
 filled had brought in no money. 
 
 One day, as he sat dreaming before his piano, 
 some one knocked at the door, and the next in- 
 stant in walked his master Raff, of whom the 
 young American stood in great awe. In the 
 course of a few moments. Raff suddenly asked 
 what he had been writing. In his confusion the 
 boy stammered he had been working on a con- 
 certo. When Raff started to go, he turned back 
 and told the boy to bring the concerto to him the 
 
354 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 next Sunday. As even the first movement was 
 not finished, its author set to work with vigor. 
 When Sunday "came only the first movement was 
 ready. Postponing the visit a week or two, he 
 had time to. complete the work, which stands to- 
 day, as he wrote it then, with scarcely a correc- 
 tion. 
 
 At Raff's suggestion, MacDowell visited Liszt 
 in the spring of 1882. The dreaded encounter 
 with the master proved to be a delightful sur- 
 prise, as Liszt treated him with much kindness 
 and coin-tesy. Eugen D 'Albert, who was 
 present, was asked to accompany the orchestral 
 part of the concerto on a second piano. Liszt 
 commended the work in warm terms : "You must 
 bestir yourself," he warned D'Albert, "if you 
 do not wish to be qutdone by our young Ameri- 
 can." Liszt praised his piano playing too, and 
 MacDowell returned to Frankfort in a happy 
 frame of mind. 
 
 At a music Convention, held that year in 
 Zurich, in July, MacDowell played his First 
 Piano Suite, and won a good success. The fol- 
 lowing year, upon Liszt's recommendation, both 
 the First and Second Modern Suites were 
 brought out by Breitkopf and Haertel. "Your 
 two Piano Suites are admirable," wrote Liszt 
 from Budapest, in February, 1883, "and I ac- 
 cept with sincere pleasure and thanks the dedi- 
 cation of your piano Concerto." 
 
Edward MacDowell 355 
 
 The passing of Raff, on Jime 25, 1882, was 
 a severe blow to MacDowell. It was in memory 
 of his revered teacher that he composed the 
 "Sonata Tragica," the first of the four great 
 sonatas he has left us. The slow movement of 
 this Sonata especially embodies his sorrow at the 
 loss of the teacher who once said to him: "Your 
 music will be played when mine is forgotten." 
 
 For the next two years MacDowell did much 
 composing. Then in June 1884 he returned to 
 America, and in Jiily was married to his former 
 pupU, Miss Marian Nevins, a union which proved 
 to be ideal for both. Shortly after this event the 
 young couple returned to Ein-ope. 
 
 The next winter was spent in Frankfort, in- 
 structing a few private pupils, but mostly in 
 composing, with much reading of the literature 
 of various countries, and, in the spring, with 
 long walks in the beautiful woods about Frank- 
 fort. Wiesbaden became their home during the 
 winter of 1885-6. The same year saw the com- 
 pletion of the second Piano Concerto, in D 
 minor. 
 
 In the spring of 1887, MacDowell, in one of 
 his walks about the town, discovered a deserted 
 cottage on the edge of the woods. It overlooked 
 the town, with the Rhine beyond, and woods on 
 the other side of the river. Templeton Strong, 
 an American composer, was. with him at the time, 
 and bo^h thought the little cottage an ideal spot 
 
356 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 for a home. It was soon purchased, and the 
 young husband and wife lived an idyllio life for 
 the next year. A small garden gave them exer- 
 cise out of doors, the woods were always entic- 
 ing and best of all, MacDowell was able to give 
 his entire time to composition. Many beautiful 
 songs and piano pieces were the result, besides 
 the symphonic poem "Lamia," "Hamlet and 
 Ophelia," the "Lovely Alda," "Lancelot and 
 Elaine," and other orchestral works. 
 
 In September, 1888, the MacDowells sold their 
 Wiesbaden cottage and returned to America, 
 settling in Boston. Here MacDowell made 
 himself felt as a pianist and teacher. He took 
 many pupils, and made a conspicuous number 
 of public appearances. He also created some of 
 his best work, among which were the two great 
 Sonatas, the "Tragica" and "Eroica." One of 
 the important appearances was his playing of the 
 Second Concerto with the Philharmonic Orches- 
 tra of New York, under Anton Seidl, in 'Decem- 
 ber, 1894. 
 
 In the spring of 1896 a Department of Music 
 was foimded at Colimibia University, of New 
 York, the professorship of which was offered to 
 MacDowell. He had now been living eight 
 years in Boston ; his fame as a pianist and teacher 
 was constantly growing; indeed more pupils 
 came to him than he could accept. The pros- 
 pect of organizing a new department from the 
 
Edward MacDowell 357 
 
 very beginning was a difficult task to undertake. 
 At first he hesitated ; he was in truth in no hurry 
 to accept the offer, and wished to weigh both 
 sides carefully. But the idea of having an as- 
 sured income finally caused him to decide in 
 favor of Columbia, and he moved from Boston 
 to New York the following autimm. 
 
 He threw himseK into this new work with 
 great ardor and entire devotion. With the 
 foimding of the department there were two dis- 
 tinct ideas to be carried out. First, to train 
 musicians who would be able to teach and com- 
 pose. Second, to teach musical history and aes- 
 thetics. 
 
 All this involved five courses, with many 
 lectures each week, taking up form, harmony, 
 counterpoint, fugue, composition, vocal and in- 
 strvmiental music, both from the technical and 
 interpretative side. It was a tremendous labor 
 to organize and keep all this going, unaided. 
 After two years he was granted an assistant, 
 who took over the elementary classes. But even 
 with this help, MacDowell's labors were increas- 
 ingly arduous. He now had six courses instead 
 of five, which meant more classes and lectures 
 each week. Perhaps the most severe drain on 
 his time and strength was the continual correc- 
 tion of exercise books and examination papers, 
 a task which he performed with great patience 
 and thoroughness. Added to all this, he de- 
 
358 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 voted every Sunday morning to his advanced 
 students, giving them help and advice in their 
 piano work and in composition. 
 
 Amid all this labor his public playing had 
 to be given up, but composition went steadily on. 
 During the eight years of the Columbia profes- 
 sorship, some of the most important works of his 
 life were produced; among them were, Sea Pieces 
 the two later Sonatas, the Norse and the Keltic, 
 Fireside Tales, and New England Idyls. The 
 Woodland Sketches had already been published 
 and some of his finest songs. Indeed nearly one 
 quarter of all his compositions were the fruit of 
 those eight years while he held the post at Co- 
 Imnbia. 
 
 In 1896 he bought some property near Peter- 
 boro, New Hampshire — fifteen acres with a small 
 farmhouse and other buildings, and fifty acres of 
 forest. The buildings were remodeled into a 
 rambling but comfortable dwelling, and here, 
 amid woods and hills he loved, he spent the sum- 
 mer of each year. He built a little log cabin in 
 the woods near by, and here he wrote some of his 
 best music. 
 
 In 1904 MacDowell left Columbia, but con- 
 tinued his private piano classes, and sometimes 
 admitted free such students as were unable to 
 pay. After his arduous labors at Columbia, 
 which had been a great drain on his vitality, he 
 should have had , a complete rest and change. 
 
Edward MacDoioell 359 
 
 Had he done so, the collapse which was imminent 
 might have been averted. But he took no rest 
 though in the spring of 1905 he began to show 
 signs of nervous breakdown. The following sum- 
 mer was spent, as usual, in Peterboro but it 
 seemed to bring no relief to the exhausted com- 
 poser. In the fall of that year his ailment ap- 
 peared worse. Although he seemed perfectly 
 well in body, his mind gradually became like that 
 of a child. The writer was privileged to see him 
 on one occasion, and retains an ineffaceable 
 memory of the composer in his white flannels, 
 seated in a large easy chair, taking little notice 
 of what was passing about him, seldom recogniz- 
 ing his friends or visitors, but giving the hand of 
 his devoted wife a devoted squeeze when she 
 moved to his side to speak to him. 
 
 This state continued for over two years, until 
 his final release, January 23, 1908, as he had just 
 entered his forty-seventh year. The old West- 
 minster Hotel had been the MacDowell home 
 through the long illness. From here is but a 
 step to St. George's Episcopal Church, where a 
 simple service was held. On the following day 
 the composer was taken to Peterboro, his summer 
 home, a spot destined to play its part, due to the 
 untiring efforts of Mrs. MacDowell, in the de- 
 velopment of music in America. 
 
 Mr. Gilman tells us : 
 
 "His grave is on an open hill-top, command- 
 
360 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 ing one of the spacious and beautiful views he 
 had loved. On a bronze tablet are these lines 
 of his own, used as a motto for his 'From a Log 
 Cabin,' the last music he ever wrote : 
 
 'A house of dreams untold 
 
 It looks out over the whispering tree-tops 
 
 And faces the setting sun.' " 
 
Edward MacDowei.l 
 
Claude Aciiille Debussy 
 
XXII 
 
 CLAUDE ACHILLE DEBUSSY 
 
 "I love music too much to speak of it otherwise than 
 passionately." 
 
 Debussy 
 
 "Art is always progressives it cannot return to the past, 
 Tvhich ii definitely dead. Only imbeciles and cowards look 
 backward. Then — Let us work!" 
 
 Debussy 
 
 It is difficult to learn anything of the boy- 
 hood and youth of this rare French composer. 
 Even his young manhood and later life were so 
 guarded and secluded that few outside his inti- 
 mate circle knew much of the man, except as mir- 
 rored in his music. After all that is just as the 
 composer wished, to be known through his com- 
 positions, for in them he revealed himself. They 
 are transparent reflections of his character, his 
 aims and ideals. 
 
 Only the barest facts of his early life can be 
 told. We know that he, was born at Saint Ger- 
 main-en-Laye, France, August 22, 1862. From 
 the very beginning he seemed precociously gifted 
 in music, and began at a very early age to study 
 the piana His first lessons on the instrument 
 
 861 
 
362 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 were received from Mme. de Sivry, a former pu- 
 pil of Chopin. At ten he entered the Paris Con- 
 servatoire, obtaining his Solfege medals in 1874, 
 '75, and '76, under Lavignac; a second prize for 
 piano playing from Marmontel in 1877, a first 
 prize for accompanying in 1880; an accessory 
 prize for counterpoint and fugue in 1882, and 
 finally the Grande Prix de Rome, with his can- 
 tata, "L'Enfant Prodigue," in 1884, as a pupil 
 of Guirand. 
 
 Thus in twelve years, or at the age of twenty- 
 two, the young musician was thoroughly fur- 
 nished for a career. He had worked through 
 carefully, from the beginning to the top, with 
 thoroughness and completeness, gaining his hon- 
 ors, slowly, step by step. All this painstaking 
 care, this overcoming of the technical difficulties 
 of his art, is what gave him such complete com- 
 mand and freedom in using the medium of tone 
 and harmony, in his unique manner. 
 
 While at work in Paris, young Debussy made 
 an occasional side trip to another country. In 
 1879 he visited Russia, where he learned to know 
 the music of that land, yet xmdreamed of by the 
 western artists. When his turn came td go to 
 Rome, for which honor he secured the prize, he 
 sent home the required compositions, a Sym- 
 phonic Suite "Spring," and a lyric poem for a 
 woman's voice, with chorus and orchestra, en- 
 titled "La Demoiselle Elue." 
 
Claude Achille Debussy 363 
 
 From the first Claude Debussy showed him- 
 self a rare spirit, who looked at the subject of 
 musical art from a different angle than others 
 had done. For one thing he must have loved 
 nature with whole souled devotion, for he 
 sought to reflect her moods and inspirations in 
 his compositions. Once he said: "I prefer to 
 hear a few notes from an Egyptian shepherd's 
 flute, for he is in accord with his scenery and 
 hears harmonies rmknown to your treatises. 
 Musicians too seldom tiu-n to the music inscribed 
 in nature. It would benefit them more to watch 
 a sunrise than to hsten to a performance of the 
 Pastorale Symphony. Go not to others for 
 advice but take counsel of the passing breezes, 
 which relate the history of the world to those 
 who can listen." 
 
 Again he says, in a way that shows what de- 
 light he feels in beauty that is spontaneous and 
 natural: 
 
 "I lingered late one autumn evening in the 
 coimtry, irresistibly fascinated by the magic of 
 old world forests. From yellowing leaves, 
 fluttering earthward, celebrating the glorious 
 agony of the trees, from the clangorous angelus 
 bidding the fields to slumber, rose a sweet per- 
 suasive voice, counseling perfect oblivion. The 
 sun was setting solitary. Beasts and men turned 
 peacefully homeward, having accomphshed their 
 impersonal taisks." 
 
364 Story-Lives of Master 'Musicians 
 
 When as a youth Debussy was serving with his 
 regiment in France^ he relates of the delight he 
 experienced in listening to the tones of the bugles 
 and bells. The former sounded over the camp 
 for the various military duties; the latter be- 
 longed to a neighboring convent and rang out 
 daily for services. The resonance of the bugles 
 and the far-reaching vibrations of the bells, with 
 their overtones and harmonics, were specially 
 noted by the yoimg musician, and used by him 
 later in his music. It is a well-known fact that 
 every tone or sound is accompanied by a whole 
 series of other sounds; they are the vibrations 
 resulting from the fundamental tone. If the tone 
 C is played in the lower octave of the piano, no 
 less than sixteen overtones vibrate with it. A few 
 of these are audible to the ordinary listener, but 
 very keen ears will hear more of them. In 
 Claude Debussy's compositions, his system of 
 harmony and tonality is intimately connected 
 with these laws of natxiral harmonics. His 
 chords, for instance, are remarkable for their 
 shifting, vapory quality ; they seem to be on the 
 border land between major and minor — conso- 
 nance and dissonance ; again they often appear to 
 float in the air, without any resolution whatever. 
 It was a new aspect of music, a new style of chord 
 progression. At the same time the young com- 
 poser was well versed in old and ancient music; 
 he knew all the old scales, eight in number, and 
 
Claude Achille Debussy 365 
 
 used them in his compositions with compelling 
 charm. The influence of the old Gregorian chant 
 has given his music a certain fluidity, free rhythm, 
 a refinement, richness and variety peculiarly its 
 own. 
 
 We can trace impressions of early life in De- 
 bussy's music, through his employment of the old 
 modes, the bell sounds which were familiar to his 
 boyhood, and also circumstances connected with 
 his later life. As a student in Rome, he threw 
 himself into the study of the music of Russian 
 composers, especially that of Moussorgsky; 
 marks of the Oriental coloring derived from these 
 masters appear in his own later music. When he 
 returned to Paris for good, he reflected in music 
 the atmosphere of his environment. By interest 
 and temperament he was in sympathy with the 
 impressionistic school in art, whether it be in 
 painting, literature or in music. In Debussy's 
 music the qualities of impressionism and symbol- 
 ism are very prominent. He employs soimds as 
 though they were colors, and blends them in such 
 a way as literally to paint a picture in tones, 
 through a series of shaded, many-hued chord pro- 
 gressions. Fluid, flexible, vivid, these beautiful 
 harmonies, seemingly woven of refracted rays of 
 light, merge iato shadowy melody, and free, flow- 
 ing rhythm. 
 
 What we first hear in Debussy's music, is the 
 strangeness of the harmony, the use of certain 
 
366 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 scales, not so much new as unfamiliar. Also the 
 employment of sequences of fifths or seconds. 
 He often takes his subjects from nature, but in 
 this case seems to prefer a sky less blue and a 
 landscape more atmospheric than those of Italy, 
 more like his native France. His music, when 
 known sufficiently, will reveal a sense of propor- 
 tion, balance and the most exquisite taste. It 
 may lack strength at times, it may lack outbursts 
 of passion and intensity, but it is the perfection 
 of refinement. 
 
 Mr. Ernest Newman, in writing of Debussy, 
 warmly praises the delightful natm-alness of his 
 early compositions. "One would feel justified in 
 building the highest hopes on the young genius 
 who can manipulate so easily the beautiful shapes 
 his imagination conjures up." 
 
 The work of the early period shows Debussy 
 developing freely and naturally. The indepen- 
 dence of his thinking is unmistakable, but it does 
 not run into wilfulness. There is no violent 
 break with the past, but simply the quickening 
 of certain French quahties by the infusion of a 
 new personality. It seemed as if a new and 
 charming miniaturist had appeared, who was 
 doing both for piano and song what had never 
 been done before. The style of the two Ara- 
 besques and the more successful of the Ariettes 
 oubliees is perfect. A liberator seemed to have 
 come into music, to take up, half a century later. 
 
Claude AcTiille Debussy 367 
 
 the work of Chopin — ^the work of redeeming the 
 art from the excessive objectivity of German 
 thought, of giving it not only a new :soul but a 
 new body, swift, lithe and graceful. And that 
 this exquisitely clear, pellucid style could be made 
 to carry out not only gaiety and whimsicality but 
 emotion of a deeper sort, is proved by the lovely 
 "Clair de Lune." 
 
 Among Debussy's best known compositions are 
 "The Afternoon of a Faim," composed in 1894 
 and called his most perfect piece for orchestra, 
 which he never afterward surpassed. There are 
 also Three Nocturnes for orchestra. In piano 
 music, as we have briefly shown, he created a new 
 school for the player. All the way from the two 
 Arabesques just mentioned, through "Gardens in 
 the Rain," "The Shadowy Cathedral," "A Night 
 in Granada," "The Girl with Blond Hair," up to 
 the two books of remarkable Preludes, it is a new 
 world of exotic melody and harmony to which 
 he leads the way. "Art must be hidden by art," 
 said Rameau, long ago, and this is eminently 
 true in Debussy's music, 
 
 Debussy composed several works for the stage, 
 one of which was "Martyrdom of Saint Sebas- 
 tien," but his "Pelleas and Melisande" is the one 
 supreme achievement in the lyric drama. As 
 one of his critics writes : "The reading of the score 
 of T611eas and Melisande' remains for me one 
 of the most marvelous lessons in French art: it 
 
368 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 would be impossible for him to express more 
 with greater restraint of means." The music, 
 which seems so comphcated, is in reaUty very 
 simple. It soimds so shadowy and impalpable, 
 but it is really built up with as sure control as 
 the most classic work. It is indeed music which 
 appeals to refined and sensitive temperaments. 
 
 This mystical opera was produced in Paris, at 
 the Opera Comique, in April, 1902, and at once 
 made a sensation. It had any number of per- 
 formances and still continues as one of the high 
 lights of the French stage. Its fame soon reached 
 America, and the first performance was given in 
 New York in 1907, with a notable cast of sing- 
 ing actors, among whom Mary Garden, as the 
 heroine gave an unforgettable, poetic interpre- 
 tation. 
 
 Many songs have been left us by this unique 
 composer. He wa;s especially fond of poetry 
 and steeped himself in the verse of Verlaine, VU- 
 lon, Baudelaire and Mallarme. He chose the 
 most unexpected, the most subtle, and wedded 
 it to sounds which invariably expressed the full 
 mteaning. He breathed the breath of life into 
 these vague, shadowy poems, just as he made 
 Maeterhnck's "Pelleas" live again. 
 
 As the years passed, Claude Debussy won 
 more and more distinction as a unique composer, 
 but also gained the reputation of being a very 
 unsociable man. Physically it has been said that 
 
Claude Achille Dehussy 369 
 
 in hisf youth he seemed hke an Assyrian Prince; 
 through hfe he retained his somewhat Asiatic ap- 
 pearance. His eyes were slightly narrowed, his 
 black hair curled lightly over an extremely broad 
 forehead. He spoke little and often in brusque 
 phrase. For this reason he was frequently mis- 
 understood, as the irony and sarcasm with which 
 he sometimes spoke did not tend to make friends. 
 But this attitude was only turned toward those 
 who did not comprehend him and his ideals, or 
 who endeavored to falsify what he believed in and 
 esteemed. 
 
 A friend of the artist writes: 
 
 "I met Claude Debussy for the &st time in 
 1906. Living myself in a provincial town, I 
 had for several years known and greatly ad- 
 mired some of the songs and the opera, 'Pelleas 
 and Mfilisande,' and I made each of my short 
 visits to Paris an opportimity of improving my 
 acquaintance with these works. A young com- 
 poser, Andre Caplet, with whom I had long been 
 intimate, proposed to introduce me to Debussy; 
 but the rumors I had heard about the composer's 
 preferred seclusion always made me refuse in 
 spite of my great desire to know him. I now 
 had a desire to express the feelings awakened 
 in me, and to commimicate to others, by means 
 of articles and lectures, my admiration for, and 
 my belief in, the composer and his work. The 
 result was that one day, in 1906, Debussy let 
 
370 Story-Lives of Master Musicians 
 
 me know through a friend, that he woiild like to 
 see me. From that day began our friendship." 
 
 Later the same friend wrote: 
 
 "Debussy was invited to appear at Queen's 
 Hall with the London Symphony Orchestra, on 
 February 1, 1908, to conduct his 'Afternoon of 
 a Faun,' and 'The Sea.' The ovation he re- 
 ceived from the English public was exceptional. 
 I can still see him in the lobby, shaking hands 
 with friends after the concert, trying to hide his 
 emotion, and saying repeatedly: 'How nice they 
 are — ^how nice they are!' " 
 
 He went again the next year to London, but 
 the state of his health prevented his going any- 
 where else. For a malady, which finally proved 
 fatal, seemed to attack the composer when in his 
 prime, and eventually put an end to his work. 
 We cannot guess what other art works he might 
 have created. But there must be some that have 
 not yet seen the light. It is known that he was 
 wont to keep a composition for some time in his 
 desk, correcting and letting it ripen, until he felt 
 it was ready to be brought out. 
 
 One of his cherished dreams had been to com- 
 pose a "Tristan." 
 
 The characters of Tristan and Iseult are pri- 
 marily taken from a French legend. Debussy 
 felt the story was a French heritage and should 
 be restored to its original atmosphere and idea. 
 This it was his ardent desire to accomplish. 
 
Claude Achille Debussy 371 
 
 Debussy passed away March 26, 1918. 
 
 Since his desire to create a Tristan has bee« 
 made impossible, let us cherish the rich heritage 
 of piano, song and orchestral works, which this 
 original French artist and thinker has left be- 
 hind, to benefit art and his fellow man. 
 
 THE END 
 

 
 
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