The Mendelssohn family had moved to Berlin when Felix was only three
years old, and the Berliners always claimed him as their own. Strange
to say, the city of his birth did not recognise his talent for many
years. At the age of twenty he went to England, and the high breeding,
personal beauty, and charming manner of the young musician gave him
the _entrée_ into the most fastidious and exclusive circles. His first
symphony and the "Midsummer-Night's Dream" overture stamped his power
with the verdict of a warm enthusiasm; for London, though cold and
conservative, is prompt to recognise a superior order of merit.
His travels through Scotland inspired Mendelssohn with sentiments of
great admiration. The scenery filled his mind with the highest
suggestions of beauty and grandeur. He afterwards tells us that "he
preferred the cold sky and the pines of the north to charming scenes
in the midst of landscapes bathed in the glowing rays of the sun and
azure light." The vague Ossianic figures that raised their gigantic
heads in the fog-wreaths of clouded mountain-tops and lonely lochs had
a peculiar fascination for him, and acted like wine on his
imagination. The "Hebrides" overture was the fruit of this tour, one
of the most powerful and characteristic of his minor compositions. His
sister Fanny (Mrs. Hensel) asked him to describe the grey scenery of
the north, and he replied in music by improvising his impressions.
This theme was afterwards worked out in the elaborate overture.
We will not follow him in his various travels through France and
Italy. Suffice it to say, that his keen and passionate mind absorbed
everything in art which could feed the divine hunger, for he was ever
discontented, and had his mind fixed on an absolute and determined
ideal. During this time of travel he became intimate with the sculptor
Thorwaldsen, and the painters Leopold Robert and Horace Vernet. This
period produced "Walpurgis Night," the first of the "Songs without
Words," the great symphony in A major, and the "Melusine" overture. He
is now about to enter on the epoch which puts to the fullest test the
varied resources of his genius. To Moscheles he writes, in answer to
his old teacher's warm praise--"Your praise is better than three
orders of nobility." For several years we see him busy in multifarious
ways, composing, leading musical festivals, concert-giving, directing
opera-houses, and yet finding time to keep up a busy correspondence
with the most distinguished men in Europe; for Mendelssohn seemed to
find in letter-writing a rest for his over-taxed brain.
In 1835 he completed his great oratorio of "St. Paul," for Leipsic.
The next year he received the title of Doctor of Philosophy and the
Fine Arts; and in 1837 he married the charming Cécile Jeanrenaud, who
made his domestic life so gentle and harmonious. It has been thought
strange that Mendelssohn should have made so little mention of his
lovely wife in his letters, so prone as he was to speak of affairs of
his daily life. Be this as it may, his correspondence with Moscheles,
Devrient, and others, as well as the general testimony of his friends,
shows us unmistakably that his home-life was blessed in an exceptional
degree with intellectual sympathy, and the tenderest and most
thoughtful love.
In 1841 Mendelssohn became Kapellmeister of the Prussian court. He now
wrote the "Athalie" music, the "Midsummer-Night's Dream," and a large
number of lesser pieces, including the "Songs without Words," and
piano sonatas, as well as much church music. The greatest work of
this period was the "Hymn of Praise," a symphonic cantata for the
Leipsic anniversary of the invention of printing, regarded by many as
his finest composition.
Mendelssohn always loved England, and made frequent visits across the
Channel; for he felt that among the English he was fully appreciated,
both as man and composer.
His oratorio of "Elijah" was composed for the English public, and
produced at the great Birmingham festival in 1846, under his own
direction, with magnificent success. It was given a second time in
April 1847, with his final refinements and revisions; and the event
was regarded in England as one of the greatest since the days of
Handel, to whom, as well as to Haydn and Beethoven, Mendelssohn showed
himself a worthy rival in the field of oratorio composition. Of this
visit to England Lampadius, his friend and biographer, writes--"Her
Majesty, who as well as her husband was a great friend of art, and
herself a distinguished musician, received the distinguished German in
her own sitting-room, Prince Albert being the only one present besides
herself. As he entered she asked his pardon for the somewhat
disorderly state of the room, and began to rearrange the articles with
her own hands, Mendelssohn himself gallantly offering his assistance.
Some parrots whose cages hung in the room she herself carried into the
next room, in which Mendelssohn helped her also. She then requested
her guest to play something, and afterwards sang some songs of his
which she had sung at a court concert soon after the attack on her
person. She was not wholly pleased, however, with her own performance,
and said pleasantly to Mendelssohn, 'I can do better--ask Lablache if
I cannot; but I am afraid of you!'"
This anecdote was related by Mendelssohn himself to show the
graciousness of the English queen. It was at this time that Prince
Albert sent to Mendelssohn the book of the oratorio "Elijah" with
which he used to follow the performance, with the following
autographic inscription:--
"To the noble artist, who, surrounded by the Baal worship
of corrupted art, has been able by his genius and science to
preserve faithfully like another Elijah the worship of true
art, and once more to accustom our ear, lost in the whirl of
an empty play of sounds, to the pure notes of expressive
composition and legitimate harmony--to the great master, who
makes us conscious of the unity of his conception through
the whole maze of his creation, from the soft whispering to
the mighty raging of the elements: Written in token of
grateful remembrance by
"Albert.
"Buckingham Palace, _April 24, 1847_."
An occurrence at the Birmingham festival throws a clear light on
Mendelssohn's presence of mind, and on his faculty of instant
concentration. On the last day, among other things, one of Handel's
anthems was given. The concert was already going on, when it was
discovered that the short recitative which precedes the "Coronation
Hymn," and which the public had in the printed text, was lacking in
the voice parts. The directors were perplexed. Mendelssohn, who was
sitting in an ante-room of the hall, heard of it, and said, "Wait, I
will help you." He sat down directly at a table, and composed the
music for the recitative and the orchestral accompaniment in about
half an hour. It was at once transcribed, and given without any
rehearsal, and went very finely.
On returning to Leipsic he determined to pass the summer in Vevay,
Switzerland, on account of his failing health, which had begun to
alarm himself and his friends. His letters from Switzerland at this
period show how the shadow of rapidly approaching death already threw
a deep gloom over his habitually cheerful nature. He returned to
Leipsic, and resumed hard work. His operetta entitled "Return from
among Strangers" was his last production, with the exception of some
lively songs and a few piano pieces of the "Lieder ohne Worte," or
"Songs without Words," series. Mendelssohn was seized with an
apoplectic attack on October 9, 1847. Second and third seizures
quickly followed, and he died November 4th, aged thirty-eight years.
All Germany and Europe sorrowed over the loss of this great musician,
and his funeral was attended by many of the most distinguished persons
from all parts of the land, for the loss was felt to be something like
a national calamity.