musical genius and industry were most remarkable, is due the greatest
homage and gratitude of a music-loving world. Of him an eminent
musical writer says, "It is difficult to over-estimate his talent and
influence over the art of music in his day. He was regarded as the
great reformer of church music. His knowledge of counterpoint, and the
elevation and nobility of his style, made his masses and other
compositions, of which he wrote a great number, examples for all time
of what music should be."
In this century lived many notable composers, nearly all of whom
distinguished themselves in the production of madrigal music. To the
latter the English people were much devoted. Reading at sight was at
that day, even more than now, a common accomplishment among the
educated. The English queen Elizabeth was quite fond of music, and was
somewhat accomplished in the art, performing upon the lute, virginals,
and viol. She often charmed the _attachés_ of and visitors to her
court by her skilful performances. During her reign, and by her
encouragement, the cultivation of this noble art received a new and
strong impulse in England, and several composers and performers of
high merit lived.
In the year 1540 oratorio was first composed, followed by opera in
1594. During this period, instrumental music began to be used in the
churches; and the violin was brought by the celebrated Amati family to
a beauty of form, and sweetness of tone, not since excelled.
During the seventeenth century such great composers as Stradella,
Scarlatti, Caldara, and Claudio lived; and the different forms of
opera were developed in England, France, and Italy.
During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries the art of music, in
its new, rich, and deep developments, as shown in the masterly,
wonderful creations of several of the great composers of those
periods, and in the scientific performances of many fine
instrumentalists, attained a height of surpassing grandeur. Many men
of brilliant musical genius and of remarkable industry and
perseverance were born; and, with new conceptions of the scope and
capabilities of the divine art, they penetrated its innermost depths,
and brought to the ears of the music-loving world new and enrapturing
forms of harmony. Among these great masters, leaving out those already
mentioned, were Handel, Henry Purcell, Bach, Gluck, Haydn, Mozart,
Beethoven, and Spontini.
But, before proceeding farther, the writer considers it proper to
remark, that to give a extended description of the progress of music
during the three last centuries, mentioning in detail the many
creations and achievements of those who have become great, nay, in
some instances he might say almost immortal, in its sacred domain,
would require a volume far beyond the pretensions and intended limits
of this one.
Besides, the author confesses that he pauses with feelings of
reverence while contemplating the mighty genius and divinely
approximating achievements of Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Spohr, and
Mendelssohn, fearing that his unskilful pen might fail in an attempt
at description. Nor does he feel much less embarrassed when he
contemplates the accomplishments of those wonderful interpreters of
the works of the noble masters, who have, either through the
enchanting modulations of their voices or with skilful touch upon
instruments, evolved their magic strains. Let an abler pen than mine
portray the sublime triumphs of Hasse, Mario, Wachtel, Santley,
Whitney; of Albani, Malibran, Lind, Parepa Rosa, Nilsson; of Haupt,
Paganini, Vieuxtemps, Ole Bull, Rubinstein, Liszt, and Von Bulow.[4]
[Footnote 4: For an able criticism of the composers and some of the
performers mentioned, the reader is referred to Professor Ritter's
very valuable History of Music, in two volumes.]
The eighteenth century was a most remarkable period for achievements
in the composition of orchestral, oratorio, and operatic music,--the
same being finely interpreted by vocal and instrumental artists of
most wonderful skill.
In referring to some among that galaxy of bright stars, I use, in
regard to Mozart, the clear and beautiful language of another:[5] "The
great musical composer Mozart was a wonderful instance of precocity,
as well as of surpassing genius. He died at the early age of
thirty-five, after a career of unrivalled splendor, and the
production of a succession of works which have left him almost, if not
entirely, without an equal among either his predecessors or those who
have come after him. Mozart's devotion to his art, and the
indefatigable industry with which, notwithstanding his extraordinary
powers, he gave himself to its cultivation, may read an instructive
lesson, even to far inferior minds, in illustration of the true and
only method for the attainment of excellence. From his childhood to
the last moment of his life, Mozart was wholly a musician. Even in his
earliest years, no pastime had any interest for him in which music was
not introduced. His voluminous productions, to enumerate even the
titles of which would occupy no little space, are the best attestation
of the unceasing diligence of his maturer years. He used, indeed, to
compose with surprising rapidity: but he had none of the carelessness
of a rapid composer; for so delicate was his sense of the beautiful,
that he was never satisfied with any one of his productions until it
had received all the perfection he could give it by the most minute
and elaborate correction. Ever striving after higher and higher
degrees of excellence, and existing only for his art, he scarcely
suffered even the visible approach of death to withdraw him for a
moment from his beloved studies. During the last moments of his life,
though weak in body, he was 'full of the god;' and his application,
though indefatigable, could not keep pace with his invention. 'Il
Flauta [Transcriber's Note: Flauto] Magico,' 'La Clemenza di Tito,'
and a 'Requiem' which he had hardly time to finish, were among his
last efforts. The composition of the 'Requiem,' in the decline of his
bodily powers, and under great mental excitement, hastened his
dissolution. He was seized with repeated fainting-fits, brought on by
his extreme assiduity in writing, in one of which he expired. A few
hours before his death took place, he is reported to have said, 'Now I
begin to see what might be done in music.'"
[Footnote 5: In the Library of Entertaining Knowledge, vol. iii. p.
76.]
Mozart's compositions number over six hundred, and two hundred of them
had not until quite recently been printed. He composed fifty-three
works for the church, a hundred and eighteen for orchestra, twenty-six
operas and cantatas, a hundred and fifty-four songs, forty-nine
concertos, sixty-two piano-forte pieces, and seventeen pieces for the
organ.
Of Beethoven, Professor F.L. Ritter, in one of his excellent lectures
on music, says, "Beethoven's compositions appeal to the whole being of
the listener. They captivate the whole soul, and, for the time being,
subdue it to an intense, powerful, poetical influence, impressing it
with melancholy, sorrow, and sadness, elevating it heavenwards in
hopeful joy and inspired happiness."
The following description[6] of Beethoven's last hours on earth, as he
was nearing the time
"When all of genius which can perish dies,"
although replete with sadness, is yet a tribute so touchingly
beautiful and eloquent as to make it well worthy of insertion here.
[Footnote 6: Anonymously contributed to the Boston Folio for May,
1877.]
"THE LAST MOMENTS OF BEETHOVEN.
"He had but one happy moment in his life, and that moment
killed him.
"He lived in poverty, driven into solitude by the contempt
of the world, and by the natural bent of a disposition
rendered harsh, almost savage, by the injustice of his
contemporaries. But he wrote the sublimest music that ever
man or angel dreamed. He spoke to mankind in his divine
language, and they disdained to listen to him. He spoke to
them as Nature speaks in the celestial harmony of the winds,
the waves, the singing of the birds amid the woods.
Beethoven was a prophet, and his utterance was from God.
"And yet was his talent so disregarded, that he was destined
more than once to suffer the bitterest agony of the poet,
the artist, the musician. He doubted his own genius.
"Haydn himself could find for him no better praise than in
saying, 'He was a clever pianist.'
"Thus was it said of Géricault, 'He blends his colors well;'
and thus of Goethe, 'He has a tolerable style, and he
commits no faults in orthography.'
"Beethoven had but one friend, and that friend was Hummel.
But poverty and injustice had irritated him, and he was
sometimes unjust himself. He quarrelled with Hummel, and for
a long time they ceased to meet. To crown his misfortunes,
he became completely deaf.
"Then Beethoven retired to Baden, where he lived, isolated
and sad, in a small house that scarcely sufficed for his
necessities. There his only pleasure was in wandering amid
the green alleys of a beautiful forest in the neighborhood
of the town. Alone with the birds and the wild flowers, he
would then suffer himself to give scope to his genius, to
compose his marvellous symphonies, to approach the gates of
heaven with melodious accents, and to speak aloud to angels
that language which was too beautiful for human ears, and
which human ears had failed to comprehend.
"But in the midst of his solitary dreaming a letter arrived,
which brought him back, despite himself, to the affairs of
the world, where new griefs awaited him.
"A nephew whom he had brought up, and to whom he was
attached by the good offices which he had himself performed
for the youth, wrote to implore his uncle's presence at
Vienna. He had become implicated in some disastrous
business, from which his elder relative alone could release
him.
"Beethoven set off upon his journey, and, compelled by the
necessity of economy, accomplished part of the distance on
foot. One evening he stopped before the gate of a small,
mean-looking house, and solicited shelter. He had already
several leagues to traverse before reaching Vienna, and his
strength would not enable him to continue any longer on the
road.
"They received him with hospitality: he partook of their
supper, and then was installed in the master's chair by the
fireside.
"When the table was cleared, the father of the family arose,
and opened an old clavecin. The three sons took each a
violin, and the mother and daughter occupied themselves in
some domestic work.
"The father gave the key-note, and all four began playing
with that unity and precision, that innate genius, which is
peculiar only to the people of Germany. It seemed that they
were deeply interested in what they played; for their whole
souls were in the instruments. The two women desisted from
their occupation to listen, and their gentle countenances
expressed the emotions of their hearts.
"To observe all this was the only share that Beethoven could
take in what was passing; for he did not hear a single note.
He could only judge of their performance from the movements
of the executants, and the fire that animated their
features.
"When they had finished they shook each other's hands
warmly, as if to congratulate themselves on a community of
happiness; and the young girl threw herself weeping into her
mother's arms. Then they appeared to consult together: they
resumed their instruments; they commenced again. This time
their enthusiasm reached its height; their eyes were filled
with tears, and the color mounted to their cheeks.
"'My friends,' said Beethoven, 'I am very unhappy that I can
take no part in the delight which you experience; for I also
love music: but, as you see, I am so deaf that I cannot hear
any sound. Let me read this music which produces in you such
sweet and lively emotions.'
"He took the paper in his hand: his eyes grew dim, his
breath came short and fast; then he dropped the music, and
burst into tears.
"These peasants had been playing the allegretto of
Beethoven's Symphony in A.
"The whole family surrounded him with signs of curiosity and
surprise.
"For some moments his convulsive sobs impeded his utterance;
then he raised his head, and said, 'I am Beethoven.'
"And they uncovered their heads, and bent before him in
respectful silence. Beethoven extended his hands to them,
and they pressed them, kissed, wept over them; for they knew
that they had amongst them a man who was greater than a
king.
"Beethoven held out his arms, and embraced them all,--the
father, the mother, the young girl, and her three brothers.
"All at once he rose up, and, sitting down to the clavecin,
signed to the young men to take up their violins, and
himself performed the piano part of his _chef-d'oeuvre_.
The performers were alike inspired: never was music more
divine or better executed. Half the night passed away thus,
and the peasants listened. Those were the last accents of
the swan.
"The father compelled him to accept his own bed; but, during
the night, Beethoven was restless and fevered. He rose: he
needed air: he went forth with naked feet into the country.
All nature was exhaling a majestic harmony; the winds
sighing through the branches of the trees, and moaning along
the avenues and glades of the wood. He remained some hours
wandering thus amid the cool dews of the early morning; but,
when he returned to the house, he was seized with an icy
chill. They sent to Vienna for a physician. Dropsy on the
chest was found to have declared itself; and in two days,
despite every care and skill, the doctor said Beethoven must
die.
"And, in truth, life was every instant ebbing fast from him.
"As he lay upon his bed, pale and suffering, a man entered.
It was Hummel,--Hummel, his old and only friend. He had
heard of the illness of Beethoven, and he came to him with
succor and money. But it was too late: Beethoven was
speechless; and a grateful smile was all that he had to
bestow upon his friend.
"Hummel bent towards him, and, by the air of an acoustic
instrument, enabled Beethoven to hear a few words of his
compassion and regret.
"Beethoven seemed re-animated; his eyes shone: he struggled
for utterance, and gasped, 'Is it not true, Hummel, that I
have some talent, after all?'
"These were his last words. His eyes grew fixed, his mouth
fell open, and his spirit passed away.
"They buried him in the little cemetery of Dobling."
Among the most eminent composers of the present century may be
mentioned Auber, Schubert, Rossini, Meyerbeer, Mendelssohn, Weber,
Verdi, and Wagner.
In "The Contemporary Review" there lately appeared the following
beautifully worded tribute to the noble qualities of Mendelssohn:--
"Mendelssohn reigns forever in a sweet wayside temple of his
own, full of bright dreams and visions, incense, and ringing
songs, and partly is he so sweet, because, unburthened with
any sense of a message to utter, a mission to develop, he
sings like a child in the valleys of asphodel, weaving
bright chaplets of spring flowers for the whole world,
looking upon the mystery of grief and pain with wide eyes of
sympathy, and at last succumbing to it himself, but not
understanding it, with a song of tender surprise upon his
lips."
Since the times of the great writers of the eighteenth century, and of
the first half of the present one, no new developments or advancements
have been made in musical creations.[7] Indeed, it would seem that the
time has not yet come for attempts to be made to improve upon the
works of those great musical luminaries; for they have left too much
that is deep, classical, charmingly beautiful, and soul-satisfying.
The musical world has paused, not caring to go farther, to
conscientiously study their noble creations, so fruitful in the
delights, the soul-elevating influences, which they afford.
[Footnote 7: It would, perhaps, be better at present to except those
of Wagner, upon the _surpassing_ merits of which the best critics are
as yet divided.]
But, although no great genius has of late years appeared with newer
and greater creations to claim our attention from those of the past,
it is gratifying to know that great advancement is being made in a
more general musical culture among the people; while the number of
really great instrumentalists and vocalists is quite large, and is
constantly increasing. In these latter respects the present far
exceeds the past.[8] In fact, the study of the art of music has begun
to be considered a necessity; and ability in its comprehension and
performance is now far from being considered as merely an ornamental
accomplishment. All this springs from the very nature of this divine
art, the mission, so to speak, of which is, to constantly open new
fountains of pleasure in the human heart; to cheer, to soothe, and to
bless mankind throughout all time.
[Footnote 8: It should also be here remarked, that there has been,
too, a remarkable improvement made in the construction of most all
musical instruments; they having been brought to a nicety and beauty
of form and tone probably not dreamed of by the makers of the past.]
But, after all, we know not how soon another great musical genius may
startle us from our complacent studies of the masters of the past; for
we are even now somewhat threatened in this respect by Richard Wagner,
the eminent composer of Germany. He is not satisfied with the music of
the past nor the present, and points to his own present and
prospective creations as samples of what the "music of the future"
will be. Just now, musical critics, while generally conceding to him
much power as a composer, are divided in opinion as to whether his
ideas are to be accepted in their entirety.
Still, who can now tell what the "music of the future" _may_ be?
Before closing this chapter on the history of music, I think it highly
proper, as a matter of record and of appropriate interest, to refer
briefly to the almost wonderful achievements of that brilliant
impressario, P.S. Gilmore of Boston, who in the year 1869 conceived
the idea of having a grand musical festival, the noble objects of
which were to celebrate the restoration of peace in the United States,
and to quicken and increase the interest felt in music throughout this
country, and also the world, by bringing together in a single
performance a larger body of most skilful musicians than was ever
before attempted. An immense building called "The Coliseum" was
constructed for the purposes of the festival, which was to continue
five days. On the 15th of June, in the city of Boston, "The National
Jubilee and Great Musical Festival" was begun. The number of
instruments and performers composing the great orchestra was 1,011;
and an organ of immense proportions and power, built expressly for the
occasion, was employed. The grand chorus and solo vocalists numbered
1,040. Besides, one hundred anvils (used in the rendering of Verdi's
"Anvil Chorus") were played upon by a hundred of the city's firemen in
full uniform; while to all this was added a group of cannon, the same
being used in the performance of the "Star-spangled Banner." The vast
chorus, the orchestra, and all the leading performers (among the
latter were Ole Bull, Parepa, and Carl Rosa), were selected from the
finest musical people of the country, being accepted only after strict
testing by skilful judges. At this great gathering many of the works
of the great composers were performed, and only works of real merit
had a place on the programme. These were all performed by this vast
_ensemble_ with a precision and an excellence that were really grand
and wonderful. This achievement of Gilmore was considered the most
brilliant entertainment of modern times. Of it, it has been truly
said,--
"This great event, by the sublimity of its music, held the
nation spell-bound. The great volume of song swept through
the land like a flood of melody, filling every Christian
heart with 'glad tidings of great joy.' It came like a
sunburst upon a musical world, shedding light where had been
darkness before, and revealing a new sphere of harmony, a
fairy-land of promise, and triumphantly realizing greater
achievements in the divine art than were hitherto thought
possible. It will ever be a memorable epoch in the history
of music, a glorious event; and thousands upon thousands are
happier for that week of glorious music. The boom of the
cannon, the stroke of the bells,[9] the clang of the anvils,
the peal of the organ, the harmony of the thousand
instruments, the melody of the thousands of voices, the
inspiring works of the great masters, the song of the
'Star-spangled Banner,' the cheers of the multitude, the
splendor of the spectacle,--the memory of all this is the
rich possession of many, and will be ever recalled as the
happiest experiences of a lifetime."
[Footnote 9: The church-bells of the city were also employed in
rendering some of the music.]
The success of the "National Peace Jubilee" was so perfect, and had
produced a musical enthusiasm and revival so great, that, in the year
1872, Gilmore, still prolific in startling musical conceptions,
projected and carried into execution another festival of the same
general character as the first, only that it was far vaster and more
daring in its proportions. This one he styled "The World's Peace
Jubilee and International Festival." Several times during the week
that this great musical festival was held, not less than fifty
thousand people were present in the immense Coliseum building. This
time the orchestra consisted of two thousand instruments, and the
chorus numbered over seventeen hundred voices; while a mighty organ
and cannon and anvils were used as before. The great soloists engaged
were Mme. Leutner, Johann Strauss, Franz Abt, and Bendel. Foreign
governments being invited to send representatives from among their
best musicians, England sent the Band of the Grenadier Guards;
Germany, its great Prussian Band; France, the brilliant French
Republic Band. King William of Prussia sent also, as a special
compliment, his classical Court Cornet Quartet; and Ireland sent its
best band. To this galaxy of star military bands, perhaps the greatest
ever assembled, the United States added its own favorite Marine Band
of Washington. At this second great and vast assemblage of artists the
almost marvellous achievements of the first "Jubilee" were repeated to
the utmost delight of many thousands of people, and Gilmore became at
once the most brilliant and daring impressario genius of the world.
As before intimated, Wagner is not at all satisfied with pausing where
Mozart, Beethoven, and other great composers, left off. He believes
that their music can be improved upon. According to his theory, the
music of the opera, in the most highly-developed form of the latter,
is but an incidental element, the dramatic part being principal. He
lately composed a triology--three operas connected as one--with a
prologue, the subjects of the dramas being taken from mythology, and
forming beautiful fairy tales. To carry to the greatest perfection his
views and firmly-held ideas as to what music should be, and as to what
he stoutly avers it will be in the future, he selected from far and
near only the best artists for the performance of his opera (these
were subjected to long and careful rehearsals under his own
conductorship), and erected at Bayreuth, in Bavaria, a large and
beautiful theatre, which, in its minutest details even, was built
under his own supervision, and after his own peculiar ideas. It being
calculated to show to the highest advantage his conception, that, in
the expression of sentiment, music is only secondary, his orchestra of
one hundred and ten performers was placed out of sight of the audience
during the acting of the opera.
The great "Musical Festival," as it was called, continued three days,
the performance of each part of the triology occupying--exclusive of a
wait of one hour after each act--from four to five hours.
At these performances the nobility of Germany and other countries,
together with the Abbé Liszt, and many others in the higher walks of
music, were present. The audiences were immense, brilliant, and
exceedingly demonstrative in applause. At the close of the opera,
Wagner was called before the curtain, receiving quite an ovation: and
in his speech he said, "Now we see what can be done: at last we have a
German art."