Anything which is new and unprecedented in music is seldom at once
properly appreciated by the majority of musicians however beautiful it
may be. Hence the diversity of opinion concerning certain important
musical compositions which we meet with in our literature.
The 'Letters on Musical Taste' written by J. B. Schaul ('Briefe ¸ber den
Geschmack in der Musik. Carlsruhe, 1809,') contain many sensible
observations which are blemished by unreasonable attacks on Mozart,
because the then new composer did not in his operas restrict himself to
the same treatment of the orchestra to which previous masters had
accustomed the ear. Schaul was a great admirer of Boccherini. "What a
difference between a Mozart and a Boccherini!" he exclaims. "The former
leads us among rugged rocks in a thorny forest but sparingly strewn with
flowers; whereas the latter conducts us into a smiling landscape with
flowery meadows, clear and murmuring brooks, and shady groves, where our
spirit abandons itself with delight to a sweet melancholy, which affords
it an agreeable recreation even after it has left these pleasant
regions."
There are several other remarks of this kind in the book, which aroused
the ire of Carl Maria von Weber, and induced him to take up his pen in
defence of Mozart,[37] which he probably would have thought unnecessary,
if the book were not otherwise rather clever.
When, in the year 1790, Mozart's 'Don Giovanni' was performed in Berlin
for the first time, the new opera found favour with the public, but by
no means with the critics. The following extract is translated from the
'Chronik von Berlin,' Vol. IX., p. 133:--"It is not by overcharging the
orchestra, but by expressing the emotions and passions of the heart,
that the composer achieves anything great, and transmits his name to
posterity. GrÈtry, Monsigny, and Philidor are, and ever will be,
examples of this truth. Mozart, in his 'Don Giovanni,' aimed at
producing something extraordinary, thus much is certain, and something
extraordinary surely he has produced; nothing however, which could not
be imitated, or which is great. Not the heart, but whim, eccentricity,
and pride are the sources from which 'Don Giovanni' has emanated....
This opera, nevertheless, proved remunerative to the manager; and
gallery, boxes and pit will also in future not be empty; for a ghost in
armour and furies spitting fire are a powerful magnet."[38]
The chord with the augmented octave, which occurs several times in
Mozart's overture to 'Don Giovanni':--
[Music]
has caused more than one honest theorist to shake his head. No doubt, if
seen in notation disconnected from the preceding and following bars, it
looks deterrent enough; but ought it thus to be judged? Still, Schilling
in his Musical Dictionary,[39] has thought it necessary to excuse Mozart
for having used this chord. In the article headed "Accord" he remarks:
"T¸rk says we possess no chord with an augmented octave. Until Mozart,
this interval was only used as a Suspension. Mozart, however, makes it
stable enough by filling with it a whole bar of 4/4 time. The master
always knows why he acts in a certain particular way and not otherwise;
and as in 'Don Giovanni' the extraordinary is predominant, this
long-sustained augmented interval--this premeditated poignard-stab--may
stand there as a warning to our libertines. We, for our part, know
nothing more frightful than this sustained chord, and the sudden energy
with which it is intended to be executed."
If Mozart could provoke adverse criticism, it is not surprising that
Beethoven did, considering his great originality. Dr. Crotch therefore,
should not be thought a worse critic than many others when he says (in
his 'Lectures,' London, 1831, p. 146) of Beethoven: "That he has ever
disregarded the rules of composition is to be regretted, as there does
not seem to have been the least good obtained by it in any one
instance."
Rochlitz, in criticising Beethoven's last violin quartets, which he
evidently did not like, cautiously observes: "When Beethoven had
published his first three Trios for pianoforte, violin and
violoncello--and soon afterwards, his first Symphony in C major--a
certain reviewer thought it right and good to speak of the Trios almost
jokingly, treating them rather as confused explosions of the bold
wantonness of a young man of talent; and the symphony he earnestly and
warningly declared to be an odd imitation of the style of Haydn,
amounting almost to caricature. Yet this critic was really an able
musician of much experience, and standing firm as a rock in his time and
its theory. He had also produced many works which are justly
appreciated, and he liked Beethoven in a degree. Had the man given his
name, or did we not owe reticence to the dead, every reader would
concede this, and even more, if we named him. Again, when Beethoven had
finished his second Symphony in D major, and Prince Lichnowsky brought
the manuscript to Leipzig, Spazier, after the performance of the
symphony, gave his opinion about it in his new journal, entitled
'Zeitung f¸r die elegante Welt.' He called it a coarse monster--a
pierced dragon writhing indomitably, which will not die, and which in
bleeding to death (Finale) flourishes its uplifted tail furiously in all
directions in vain. Now, Spazier was a clever fellow, a many-sided and
versatile man, and by no means inexperienced. As musician, he was
acquainted with every composition which in his time was considered as
superior. Having been a pupil and faithful assistant of Reichardt, he
enjoyed as a critic a by no means small reputation, and was even feared.
Since then, twenty-five years have elapsed; and what is now thought of
these works by the whole world?"[40]
A collection of the musical reviews emanating from critics of
reputation, which condemn our master-works, might be amusing, but would
probably be more ridiculous than instructive. England especially could
contribute a large share of such curiosities in musical literature. No
doubt some of the judges were clever enough; they cannot exactly be said
to have been unable to understand what they criticised; but they had
compiled a certain code of rules for their own guidance in judging,
gathered from the works of some favourite composer, which rules they
considered as the only right ones. Consequently they denounced whatever
they found in disagreement with their adopted code.
J. N. Forkel, the learned and justly-esteemed author of a 'History of
Music,' and of several other useful works, possessed for J. S. Bach so
intense an admiration, that he had at last no ear for any composer who
differed from his idol. Hence his unwarrantable attacks on Gluck in his
'Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek,' Gotha, 1778.
We possess in the German language a cleverly written book entitled
'Ueber Reinheit der Tonkunst' (On the Purity of Music), the first
edition of which appeared in the year 1825. The author of this book,
A. C. J. Thibaut, a distinguished Professor of Law in Heidelberg, had
studied the old Italian and Dutch Church composers of the time of
Palestrina, whose works he delighted in having performed at regular
meetings of a number of well-trained choristers in his house. Thibaut's
enthusiasm for the old writers of vocal music without instrumental
accompaniment was so unbounded that the great instrumental compositions
by Beethoven and others had but little attraction for him. He ridicules
with much sarcasm Weber's overture to 'Oberon.' Celebrated pianists
evidently found but little favour with him. Still, Thibaut has had a
beneficial influence on musicians, and his strange and spirited book
deserves a prominent place among our curiosities in musical literature.
Distinguished composers sometimes prove but unreliable judges of the
merits of other composers, especially if the latter are their
contemporaries, and perhaps their rivals. We know from the biographies
of the composers how greatly Weber disliked Rossini; how lightly Spohr
appreciated Weber's 'Der Freisch¸tz' when all the world was in ecstasy
about the opera; how Spohr found fault with Beethoven's symphonies. And
we know what Beethoven, in an unguarded moment, said of these composers.
We remember Mozart's unfavourable opinions concerning Clementi, AbbÈ
Vogler and some other musical celebrities of his time; likewise J. S.
Bach's joking remarks to his son Friedemann about their going to Dresden
to listen to the "pretty little songs" of Hasse; and Handel's hard words
about Gluck: "He knows no more of counterpoint than my cook!"--not to
record other such gossip which is rather scandalous. Being reminded of
these musical discords, it is all the more agreeable to remember the
sincerity with which many of our great musicians have acknowledged the
merits of their compeers. Haydn's esteem for Mozart was only equalled by
Mozart's esteem for Haydn. Beethoven's high appreciation of Cherubini is
notorious. Likewise, Schubert's admiration of Beethoven. But it is
unnecessary here to point out instances of the kind.
Musical amateurs often evince a preference for a certain composer merely
because they have accidentally become more familiar with his works than
with those of other composers. No wonder that in their literary
productions referring to music they should have largely contributed to
the curiosities. In noticing here M. Victor Schoelcher's 'Life of
Handel,' it is with sincere esteem for his enthusiasm and perseverance,
which enabled him to collect interesting information respecting the
great composer. However, in order to write the 'Life of Handel' it is
not sufficient to be an enthusiastic admirer of his works. One must be
well acquainted with the musicians contemporary with the great composer,
and with the stage of progress of the art at the time when the little
boy Handel took his initiatory lessons. One must also have practical
experience in musical composition. The following opinion expressed in
the work alluded to may serve as an example of a literary curiosity from
a musical amateur:--"When a great artist like Handel is accused of
theft, the proofs should be exhibited openly.... These pretended thefts
are nothing but accidental resemblances, fugitive, and quite
involuntary.... If Dr. Crotch is to be believed, Handel was never
anything but a plagiarist, who passed his life in seeking ideas out of
every corner!" and so on. Now, it is a well-known fact that Handel did
in several instances make use of the compositions of others. But, no
discerning biographer would for this reason regard him as a thief. The
really musical inquirer would find it interesting to examine carefully
how the great composer has treated and ennobled ideas emanating from
others.
An autobiography of a celebrated musician may be instructive, if the
author possesses the moral courage to record candidly what he has
thought and felt. He must tell the truth, and nothing but the truth. How
seldom is this the case! Be it from a praiseworthy consideration for
others, or perhaps from personal vanity, statements of committed
mistakes, unsuccessful struggles, and such like facts, are often omitted
or gilded over. The letters of celebrated musicians, published after
their death by their friends, are generally so much polished, and
sentences thought to be injurious to the reputation of the great artist
so carefully expunged, that we obtain only occasionally a glimpse at the
real life of the man. Perhaps the most amiable, but also the weakest
publications of this kind are generally the biographical notices which
have been edited by the widow of a celebrated musician. To note one
instance: 'Spohr's Autobiography' is interesting, although it is
somewhat tinged with self-complacency. After Spohr's death his widow
published the Autobiography, supplementing it with laudatory remarks
such as the following:--
"During the last few years of his life he often expressed his conviction
that there must certainly be music in Heaven, although it might be very
different from our own music. When his wife replied with all her heart:
'Yes, perhaps different; but more beautiful than yours it cannot
be!'--Then, a smile of happy contentment and blissful hope spread over
his face."[41]
The musician acquainted with the frequent repetitions in Spohr's works
of certain modulations and mannerisms in favour with the composer, may
well be excused if he shudders at the thought that he should have to
listen to them eternally.
Let us now direct our attention for a moment to books relating to
musical controversy. The reader is probably aware of the dispute
occasioned by Gluck and Piccini, in France, towards the end of the last
century, and of the large number of pamphlets which it caused to be
published, including some which were written by the most distinguished
thinkers of the time. The dispute concerning the genuineness of Mozart's
Requiem likewise supplies some curious specimens of musical literature.
The paper-war commenced with an article by Gottfried Weber, published in
the musical journal 'CÊcilia,' in the year 1825. The gauntlet thrown
down was taken up, in the same year, by the AbbÈ Stadler. After this
beginning of the controversy, other champions, _pro_ and _contra_, made
their appearance; and the quarrel, conducted not entirely without
personal insult, soon grew to be as formidable as the fray between the
Montagues and the Capulets,--when, fortunately for the sake of concord,
Mozart's MS. score of the Requiem was discovered, and revealed which
portions of the work had been committed to paper by himself, and which
were written after his death by his instructed disciple, S¸ssmayr.
Another controversy of a peculiar kind, in which many musicians took
part, and upon which several dissertations were published, originated in
a violent attack by Giovanni Spataro upon Franchino Gafori, in the
beginning of the sixteenth century. An account of this dispute, which
related to some theoretical questions, is given in Hawkins's 'History of
Music,' London, 1776, Vol. II., p. 335. As regards the style of language
of the combatants, it reminds us more of fists and clubs than of
needle-guns; but this is only what might be expected.
Again, as regards the learned inquiries respecting the origin and use of
music, some curious treatises may be noticed.
The opinion that man learnt the art of music from the songs of birds is
very old, and was already held by the Roman poet Lucretius, nearly a
century before our Christian era. Guido Casoni, in his 'Della Magia
d'Amore,' Venice, 1596, finds the origin of music in Love. J. C. Ammon, a
German clergyman, wrote in the year 1746, an essay entitled 'Gr¸ndlicher
Beweis dass im ewigen Leben wirklich eine vortreffliche Musik sei' ('A
Clear Proof that there is in Eternal Life really excellent Music'). Also
Mattheson, of whose literary productions more than one might be classed
with the curiosities, wrote circumstantially about the music in Heaven.
A book of his on the subject, published in the year 1747, bears the
title--'Behauptung der himmlischen Musik aus den Gr¸nden der Vernunft,
Kirchen-Lehre, und Heiligen Schrift' ('An Assertion that there is Music
in Heaven, proved from conclusions of reason, from the teaching of the
Church, and from Holy Scripture'). Latrobe, in his treatise entitled
'The Music of the Church,' London, 1831, settles this question by citing
passages from the Revelation; for instance, the nature of the
instrumental accompaniments to the vocal music in Heaven, is in his
opinion clearly revealed by the passage "Harpers harping upon their
harps." (Rev. XIV., 2).
The erroneous conjecture, that the art of music suggested itself
originally to man, from his hearing the various sounds in nature,
instead of being innate in him, has been entertained by several writers.
Suffice it to notice two books on this hypothesis, written in the
present century: 'The Music of Nature; or an attempt to prove that what
is passionate and pleasing in the art of singing, speaking, and
performing upon musical instruments, is derived from the sounds of the
Animated World,' by William Gardiner; London, 1832. 'La Harpe d'Eole et
la musique cosmique; Ètudes sur les rapports des phÈnomËnes sonores de
la nature avec la science et l'art;' par J. G. Kastner; Paris,
1856.--Kastner is the author of several musical treatises which might be
enumerated with the literary curiosities.
Feyoo y Montenegro, a Spanish ecclesiastic, about the middle of the
eighteenth century, wrote a dissertation, the title of which, translated
into English, is: 'The Delights of Music accompanied by Virtue are upon
Earth the foretaste of Heaven.' By way of contrast to this may be
noticed Francesco Bocchi's 'Discorso sopra la Musica,' Florence, 1580,
in which the learned author maintains that music is injurious to morals
and good manners. Vicesimus Knox, in his 'Essays moral and literary,'
London, 1778, recommends the acquirement of musical accomplishments as a
means of protecting oneself in old age from contempt and neglect.
The oddities of the following English works are sufficiently indicated
by their titles:--'The Schoole of Abuse conteining a pleasaunt Inuective
against Poetes, Pipers, Plaiers, Jesters, and such like Caterpillers of
a Commonwelth,' by Stephen Gosson; London, 1579. 'Histrio-mastic; The
Player's Scovrge, or Actors' Tragedie,' by William Prynne; London, 1633.
For the publication of this work, which contains a satire against vocal
music, the author was condemned by King Charles I. to have his ears cut
off, and to stand in the pillory.
Curious specimens of English treatises on sacred music are:--'A Treatise
concerning the lawfulness of Instrumental Musick in Holy Offices,' by
Henry Dodwell. Second edition; London, 1700. 'The Temple Musick; or an
Essay concerning the Method of Singing the Psalms of David, in the
Temple, before the Babylonish Captivity,' by Arthur Bedford; London,
1706. 'The Great Abuse of Musick,' by Arthur Bedford, London, 1711.
A German philosopher, in the beginning of the present century, wrote 'On
our Inclination to sing when we are in a cheerful Mood.' Others have
shown that cheerful music makes some persons feel sad. Shakespeare knew
this, to conclude from Jessica's words (The Merchant of Venice, Act V.,
Scene I.): 'I am never merry when I hear sweet music.'
As regards curious illustrations of musical instruments, the following
works are especially deserving of notice:--
'Musica getutscht und ausgezogen,' Basel, 1511, by Sebastian
Virdung.--'Musica instrumentalis,' Wittenburg, 1529, by Martin
Agricola.--'Musurgia seu Praxis MusicÊ,' Strassburg, 1536, by Ottomarus
Luscinius.--The last-named work is written in Latin; the other two are
in German. All these contain illustrations of the instruments described
by the authors. Sebastian Virdung's book is written in dialogue. Virdung
and Luscinius (whose German name was Nachtigall) were priests. Martin
Agricola was a professional musician, and conductor of a choir and
orchestra at Magdeburg. His book is written in wretched doggerel rhymes,
but the wood-engravings are very exact, and his explanations are lucid.
The circumstances of Martin Agricola having been practically experienced
in the art, and having lived, so to say, in the midst of the instruments
on which he treats, render his observations especially reliable.
The same may be said of Michael PrÊtorius, a distinguished Kapellmeister
at Brunswick, who is the author of 'De Organographia,' Wolfenb¸ttel,
1619. This valuable treatise forms the second volume of a work entitled,
'Syntagma Musicum,' etc. The first volume treats on the history of
music, chiefly sacred; it is written in Latin, and was published in
1615. The third volume, which like the second is written in German,
contains an account of the different vocal compositions in use at the
time when the work was written. The wood-engravings of 120 instruments
belonging to Volume II. were published with the separate title:
'Theatrum Instrumentorum seu Sciagraphia,' Wolfenb¸ttel, 1620. The
proper German name of PrÊtorius is Schulz. It was not unusual with the
old German authors to Latinize their names on the title-page of their
books.
The works just noticed are now so scarce that the musician rarely finds
an opportunity to consult them. Hardly more accessible is the 'Harmonie
universelle,' Paris, 1636, by F. Marin Mersenne,--a work which is valued
especially on account of its comprehensiveness. The second volume
contains descriptions with illustrations of the musical instruments in
use about the year 1600. Mersenne was a monk,--as was also Athanasius
Kircher, whose 'Musurgia universalis' appeared in Rome in the year 1650.
Kircher's work is less scarce than that of Mersenne, but also less
important. The illustrations in 'Musurgia universalis' are however,
interesting, and it is principally on account of them that the work is
still appreciated by musical historians. The 'Musurgia universalis' is
written in Latin. Athanasius Kircher occupied himself also in making
acoustic experiments, and he wrote a treatise on the subject,
illustrated by engravings. He also constructed various acoustic
instruments, which after his death, were deposited with other
curiosities left by him, in a Museum at Rome. Dr. Burney, who saw them
in Rome in the year 1770, remarks in his Journal: "They are now almost
all out of order; but their construction is really curious, and
manifests an ingenuity as well as zeal of this learned father in his
musical inquiries and experiments."
Filippo Bonanni, who like Athanasius Kircher was a Jesuit Father,
published at Rome in the year 1722, a work entitled 'Gabinetto armonico
pieno d'istromenti sonori,' which contains 138 copper-plate engravings
of musical instruments, most of them with representations of the
performers. It is written in Italian. A second edition, in Italian and
French, appeared in 1776. Bonanni's work is an amusing picture-book
rather than a scientific treatise. The illustrations are inexact, and
the explanations are meagre and unsatisfactory. The author had evidently
never seen most of the instruments which he describes, and many of the
illustrations appear to have been drawn from his description and not
from actual specimens.
It is however, from Bonanni and kindred writers that Laborde has
compiled his 'Essai sur la Musique,' Paris, 1780. It would be more easy
than pleasant to cite mis-statements copied from old authors by Laborde
which have been recapitulated almost verbally by subsequent writers down
to FÈtis. In consulting the 'Essai sur la Musique' with its
illustrations, many of which are fanciful, it must be borne in mind that
Laborde was a musical dilettante more distinguished for his enthusiasm
for the art, than for any particular qualification as an author on the
subject in question.
Sir John Hawkins, likewise a musical dilettante and ardent lover of the
art, by persevering diligence succeeded in accumulating a large mass of
material for the compilation of a history of music, published in 1776,
which contains many interesting accounts of scarce works on music, with
extracts from them; but he was evidently not much of a musician, and the
information he offers is arranged without sufficient discernment or
order.
Hawkins was probably unacquainted with the original German works from
which he gives extracts in translation. At any rate, he has made some
funny mistakes. For instance, in noticing a publication of a series of
letters on music by Steffani, he says (Vol. IV., p. 303): "Mattheson, in
his 'Orchestra', mentions two persons, namely John Ballhorn and ( )
Weigweiser, as the authors of observations on these letters by Steffani;
but, according to Mattheson, neither of them was either able to read the
original, or in the translation to distinguish between the sense of the
author as delivered in the text, or the opinions of the translator
contained in the notes."
Now, the fact is that neither John Ballhorn nor Wegweiser--or Weigweiser
as Hawkins spells the word,--were distinguished men deserving a place in
a 'General History of Music.' "Johann Ballhorn" merely signifies "a
Blunderer," just as "Jack of all Trades" signifies a person who can turn
his hand to anything. Old Mattheson was a quaint and sarcastic writer.
He calls the translator of Steffani's treatise from Italian into German
a "Johann Ballhorn" on account of the blunders in the translation; and
another writer, who commented upon the subject, and who put himself
forth as a true Mentor, he nicknames Wegweiser, which simply means
"Guide." The student ought, however, to acknowledge the literary
scrupulosity of Hawkins evinced by his leaving a small blank space open
before "Weigweiser" to enable any reader who may happen to be informed
of the christian name of this gentleman, to insert it there. Still,
Hawkins may well be excused, considering that even Nagler, in his
well-known Lexicon of Artists, written in German, exhibits a somewhat
similar "John Ballhorn." He mentions a Mr. "Somebody" among the English
engravers, and states that this artist has engraven the Death of General
Wolfe painted by West.
A writer on musical history must above all be a musician of practical
experience--an accomplished executant on at least one instrument, so
that he is enabled to familiarize himself with the compositions of
different masters more thoroughly than could otherwise be possible; and
a composer in order to form a correct judgment of the compositions of
others. The opinion about Handel or Bach of a writer who is but
imperfectly practised in counterpoint, and who is incompetent to produce
correctly a fugue or other intricate composition constructed according
to fixed rules, is not likely to prove of use to the student of musical
history. Burney possessed many of the qualities requisite for a musical
historian. He was a professional musician systematically trained in the
art, and an intelligent inquirer without pedantry or prejudice.
Moreover, he had the moral courage to rescind an opinion when he
discovered that it was erroneous. For instance, respecting an opinion
which he formerly held on German music, he candidly avows ('History of
Music' Vol. IV., p. 606), "It was inconsiderately inserted in the first
edition of my 'German Tour' before I was able to examine the truth....
So far, therefore from letting a second-hand prejudice warp my judgment,
or influence my opinions in writing my General History, I have long
been keeping double guard over my pen and my principles."
The most valuable literary productions are generally to be found among
the investigations which are confined to a certain branch of the art.
The works which pretend to embrace its whole science are often but mere
compilations by writers who, like Bottom the weaver, want to act not
only Pyramus, but at the same time also Thisbe and the lion.[42]
With the objectionable curiosities in musical literature might also be
classed certain compilations which contain acute observations
interspersed with silly remarks. In the preface the author states that
he considers it an agreeable duty to acknowledge his obligations to
other writers; but, as he does not indicate in the course of the book
the sources from which he has drawn, most readers remain ignorant of the
fact that the acute observations ought properly to have been given in
inverted commas.
Equally objectionable are certain productions bearing on the Êsthetics
of music, in which the author shows with high-flown words that he is
himself not quite clear about what he propounds. It certainly seems odd
that just such worthless productions are often prefaced with the remark
that the subject of the book has never been properly treated before,
whereas there are generally much better works on the same subject well
known to musicians.
Here also may certain puffing publications be alluded to, which resemble
the literary productions of quack doctors. Some are curious, however
objectionable they may be. We have guides professing to teach how to
become a brilliant player without the trouble of practising an
instrument; how to compose fine music with the aid of dice instead of
musical knowledge; how to sing in chorus without having a voice; and
suchlike tempting propositions.
Nor must the fanciful schemes for reform relating to the theory of
music, to musical notation, to the construction of instruments, etc., be
left unnoticed. Some of these are very extravagant, while others have
proved to be of greater practical utility than was expected. Space can
only be afforded here for three curious examples of proposed
innovations, two of which shall be selected from English publications of
this description.
'An Essay to the Advancement of Musick, by casting away the Perplexity
of different Cliffs, and uniting all Sort of Musick,--Lute, Viol,
Violin, Organ, Harpsechord, Voice, etc.--in one Universal Character;' by
Thomas Salmon, London, 1672.
'A New System of Music, both theoretical and practical, and yet not
mathematical; written in a manner entirely new; that's to say, in a
Style plane and intelligible; and calculated to render the Art more
Charming, the Teaching not only less tedious, but more profitable, and
the Learning easier by three Quarters. All which is done by tearing off
the Veil that has for so many ages hung before that noble Science;' by
John Francis De La Fond, London, 1725.--The author proposes to abolish
the clefs entirely, as he finds them only troublesome.
Wilhelm K¸hnau published in Berlin, in the year 1810, a book entitled
"Die Blinden Tonk¸nstler," which contains the biographies of seventy
blind musicians. The author discards all the foreign words used in
German music, and substitutes for them German words of his own coining.
For Kapellmeister he proposes 'Tonmeister;' for Clarinette, 'Gellflˆte;'
for Harmonika, 'Hauchspiel;' and so on. He, however, does not stand
alone as such a whimsical innovator. Beethoven, ten years later, coined
the word 'Hammer-KlaviËr' for Pianoforte, and used it on the title-page
of his large sonata in B flat major, Op. 106.
As specimens of Lampoons may be mentioned:--Joel Collier's 'Musical
Travels through England,' London, 1774, written in ridicule of Dr.
Charles Burney; and L. Rellstab's 'Henriette, oder die schˆne S‰ngerin,'
Leipzig, 1826, which caricatures certain admirers of the celebrated
songstress and estimable lady, Henriette Sontag, in Berlin. These
musical enthusiasts included several noblemen of the highest position,
and a foreign ambassador at the Prussian Court, who were described under
fictitious names so as to be easily recognised. The scandalous gossip
thereby occasioned induced the government to confiscate the obnoxious
though witty book, and to condemn Rellstab to be imprisoned three months
in the fortress of Spandau. The punishment of the author, of course,
greatly increased the popularity of the book. Being forbidden by high
authority, it was read everywhere,--even aloud to circles of guests in
the coffee-rooms and wine-houses of Berlin,--until curiosity was
satisfied.
As regards musical novels, those which may be called curious are mostly
so on account of their eccentricities and improbabilities. Some
interesting exceptions could, however, be pointed out. The heroes of the
novels are not unfrequently drawn from life, inasmuch as they represent
certain celebrated musicians.
E. T. A. Hoffmann, the spirited and highly imaginative novelist, has
taken, it is generally believed, the eccentric musician Louis Bˆhner as
a model for his famous 'Kapellmeister Kreisler.' After having travelled
for several years through Germany, and performed his own compositions in
concerts at different courts, Louis Bˆhner, more estimable as an artist
than otherwise, retired to his native village in Thuringia, where he
died in great poverty. His concerto in D major for the pianoforte, Op.
8, which was published about ten years before Weber composed 'Der
Freisch¸tz,' contains the following passage--
[Music]
in which may be recognised the melody of Agatha's grand Scena. Besides
this, there occur in Bˆhner's concerto some other slight resemblances
with phrases in 'Der Freisch¸tz.' It is said that on a certain occasion
Bˆhner played the concerto in the presence of Weber. The resemblances
are not very striking, and may be accidental. Their discovery, however,
did not fail to cause some contributions to our literary curiosities.
The journals of musicians travelling in distant parts of the world often
contain, as might be expected, interesting observations about music,
which are not likely to be found in the journals of other travellers. If
not particularly instructive, they are at least often amusing to
musicians who prefer to read something about their art more novel and
refreshing than they are likely to find in their treatises on
thorough-bass. A. Anton, a German by birth, who was band-master in the
Bengal army, published, after his return to the Fatherland, some
unpretending extracts from his journal, under the title 'Von Darmstadt
nach Ostindien; Erlebnisse und Abenteuer eines Musikers auf der Reise
durch Arabien nach Lahore. Die denkw¸rdigen Ereignisse der letzten Jahre
nach seinem Tagebuch wahrheitsgetreu geschildert.' ('From Darmstadt to
the East Indies; Life and Adventures of a Musician during his journey
through Arabia to Lahore. The memorable occurrences of the last years
truthfully depicted from his journal;' Darmstadt, 1860.)
M. Hauser, an accomplished violinist, has given an account of his
travels round the world, in a series of letters published with the
title: 'Aus dem Wanderbuche eines ˆsterreichischen Virtuosen; Briefe aus
Californien, S¸damerika, und Australien.' ('From the Journal of Travels
of an Austrian Virtuoso; Letters from California, South America, and
Australia;' Leipzig, 1859.) Hauser's grand show-piece was evidently a
sort of descriptive composition of his own, called 'The little Bird in
the Tree,' in which he cleverly imitated the chirping of the tiny
feathered songster. Whether he imitated it by bowing above or below the
bridge, he does not state. In Tahiti he played it with success to queen
Pomare; and at the gold-fields he charmed the diggers with it to such a
degree, that they rewarded him with pinches of gold-dust and nuggets
fresh from the soil. Having himself become thoroughly tired of 'The
little Bird in the Tree,' although it was his own composition, and
wishing to treat the people with some really good music, he ventured, at
a concert in a town of the Isthmus of Panama, to play Beethoven's famous
violin concerto. His audience were at first puzzled, not knowing what to
make of the music; soon, however, silence changed into general
conversation about the news of the town and suchlike topics. In order
to gain a hearing and money, there was no choice for the _virtuoso_ but
to resort to 'The little Bird in the Tree.' With this conviction he laid
aside the classical music, determining at the same time to enjoy it all
the more heartily at home after having made his fortune. His jottings
contain interesting statements concerning the cultivation of music in
the various countries which he visited.
A journal of a vagabond musician may, perhaps, be thought to possess but
little attraction. If, however, the vagabond musician is an intelligent
man who has had the advantage of a University education, his
observations may be much more interesting than those of a fashionable
_virtuoso_ who moves in the highest circles of society, but whose
knowledge is almost entirely confined to his profession. Ernst Kratz was
such a man. He published his journal in two volumes entitled 'Kunstreise
durch Nord-Deutschland' ('Rambles of an Artist through North Germany;'
Sonderburg, 1822). This strange journal, which the author brought out at
his own expense, is mentioned neither by FÈtis nor Forkel. Probably it
never became known through the usual channel of the book trade. It will
be the last of the productions noticed in the present survey of literary
curiosities; but, considering that it is as scarce as it is singular, an
account of it more detailed than has been given of the extraordinary
publications previously noticed may interest the musical reader.
Ernst Kratz was a Prussian, born during the second half of the last
century. His diary commences with an account of his unsuccessful
attempts, in the year 1813, to obtain a commission in the Prussian army
against the French. He had then just left the University of Halle. Why
he should have wished to give up his profession as a lawyer, does not
transpire; perhaps his overflowing energy, and his love of adventure,
made the quiet and regular life of a peaceable citizen appear to him but
a miserable existence. Though of a generous disposition, he was
evidently a self-willed and quarrelsome man, not likely to follow
submissively the dictates of others, who perhaps might be his superiors
in position, but his inferiors in talent and knowledge. Having a fine
bass voice, and some skill in playing the pianoforte and the violin, it
occurred to him, during a visit to a wealthy brother-in-law residing in
a small town in the province of Brandenburg, to organise a concert for
the benefit of the wounded soldiers disabled in the war with Napoleon I.
The zeal with which he engaged in the praiseworthy scheme secured him
the co-operation of the musical dilettanti among the nobility and gentry
of the town and its neighbourhood. The concert proved a decided success,
and, to the gratification of all there was a good round sum of money to
be handed over to the fund for the wounded soldiers.
The result of his first attempt induced Kratz to give similar concerts
in different provincial towns for the same charitable purpose. The
preparations caused him endless trouble, as he generally had to practise
beforehand with each of the amateur singers, his or her part alone, to
enable them to perform with tolerable correctness. The result was
sometimes unsatisfactory, not only musically, but also financially, as
the unavoidable expenses almost swallowed up the receipts. Meanwhile
Kratz received from the Princess Wilhelm of Prussia, the patroness of
the Society for the Relief of the Wounded Soldiers, the title of
'Kammers‰nger,' in acknowledgment of his benevolent exertions. The
honour conferred upon him increased his fondness for a rambling life,
while it was of little or no use to him in gaining the means of
subsistence.
Soon he traversed large districts of Central and Northern Germany,
giving concerts, with which he combined declamatory performances.
Experience taught him to restrict his visits almost entirely to small
towns and watering-places, where his expenses were small, and where he
had no rivalry to fear. During these wanderings he occasionally met with
a clergyman, a doctor, or a lawyer, with whom he had studied in Halle;
and the hospitable manner in which most of his former acquaintances
received him, suggests that they must have had pleasant recollections of
his companionship.
He seldom omits to record in his journal the number of visitors to his
concert; its proceeds and expenses; with other little business details.
These memoranda he intersperses with various observations, of which the
following is a specimen:--
"I may take this opportunity to confute the erroneous opinion,
entertained by many, that a clever music-director can hear every false
tone which occurs in the orchestra. This may be possible if there is
only one instrument for each part, but not otherwise; and also not when
the orchestra is playing _forte_. The music-director T¸rk, in Halle,
known as a great theorician and as a good composer, usually had at his
winter concerts the assistance of some students, as they occasioned him
no expense and rendered his orchestra more complete. I offered to assist
as a violin player; but, as the number of violinists was sufficient,
while there was only one tenor player, he appointed me to the tenor.
This I rather liked, since as the performances consisted chiefly of
operatic music and oratorios, it enabled me to follow cursorily the
words with the music. Without an acquaintance with the words, the music
of the songs is hardly comprehensible. My colleague did the same. Not
unfrequently we became so much absorbed in this pursuit that we played
wrong,--nay, we lost our part,--without T¸rk perceiving it. On the other
hand, it occurred not seldom that he cried out to us: "_Die
Pr‰tschel!_"[43] when we played correctly. This is easily explicable.
If, for instance, five soprano singers execute in unison a passage
rather rapidly, and one of them introduces a wrong tone not very loud,
the best music-director will not perceive it; still less when the
mistake occurs in the middle parts where the other parts cover the false
tone. Of course, it is different if the tone is long sustained and sung
loud."
When Kratz has made himself rather ridiculous, he can philosophize about
the occurrence so that it appears to him very interesting. Take, for
instance, his account of a rehearsal in which he ventured to play a
violin concerto beyond his power:--
"When the orchestra had played the introductory Tutti, and I had to
begin the Solo,--suddenly it becomes misty before my eyes, my whole
body trembles, I cannot see the notes clearly, cannot command my
fingers, cannot manage the bow. We begin again, and a third time; but it
is not much better, although we make some progress. By degrees I become
more collected; still my playing remains a wretched attempt to the end,
provoking the suppressed and loud laughter of the musicians. None of the
somewhat difficult passages, which I knew by heart, could I play. I am
not a _virtuoso_ on the violin; but if one has attained a certain
dexterity, one must be able to play those pieces which one has properly
learnt. Thus this rehearsal enriched my psychology, inasmuch as it
served me as an example for the proposition:--It is very difficult, if
not impossible, to appear in later years before the public in a capacity
in which one has not appeared in early youth. The fear for the teacher
suppresses in youth the shyness for the public, and accustoms us to
resist it, and not allow it to become an obstacle. The fear for the
teacher is a support which later we miss, while the shyness which
overcomes us is all the stronger since we have learnt the value of the
opinion which formerly concentrated only in the teacher, and with which
we were well acquainted beforehand. While as a singer and a declamator I
feel the most at my ease when I appear before a large audience, at the
rehearsal, in the presence of an orchestra only, I could not play a
violin concerto, merely because the former I have done in public from
early youth, and this never before."
The proceeds of his concerts he divided into two equal portions, one of
which he regularly forwarded after the concert to the relief fund for
the wounded soldiers, retaining the other half to defray his travelling
expenses. But his concerts were often so thinly attended that they
realized no proceeds to divide, and hardly sufficient means for his
subsistence. He feared to come into suspicion of having appropriated to
himself more than his due; and he felt vexed at the implications which
he sometimes thought he detected in the remarks of strangers, intimating
that the wounded soldiers were of more use to him than he to them.
Reduced to this extremity, Kratz resolved to trouble himself no
further about the wounded soldiers, and henceforth to give his
musical-declamatory entertainments for his own benefit. And with this
step begins a new epoch in his life, in which he depicts himself in his
journal as a genuine vagabond musician. After two years' rambles, he
writes:--"I must mention that my purse is at present in a very low
condition. This is something very common to all travelling artists with
or without reputation, and does not happen now for the first time to me.
In Silesia and other provinces I had already experienced the same
trouble. Considering the peculiar nature of my vocation, I never
expected from the very outset of my rambles that I should gain much
money. That I have not suffered more frequently, is owing to my very
moderate habits, and also to the circumstance that my strong physical
condition enables me to brave any adversities. Whenever my endeavours to
obtain an audience in a town failed, I at once submitted myself to
restrictions and deprivations. I should not even now think this worth
mentioning, did it not show how greatly I had to suffer on account of
the musical festival at Frankenhausen. In fact, it was owing to this
that I became for the first time quite destitute." This happened in
1815. The musical festival in Frankenhausen was under the management of
music-director G. F. Bischoff. A new cantata by Spohr, performed in the
presence of the composer, who afterwards played a violin concerto,
constituted its principal attraction. It speaks much for the love of
music in Kratz that, notwithstanding his miserable circumstances, he
carried out his intention of attending the festival. His request for
permission to assist in the orchestra, or in the chorus, met with a
refusal on the pretext that it came too late, all the places being
filled. Disappointed, he bent his steps to Heringen, a neighbouring
small town, with the intention of giving a musical-declamatory
entertainment which might help him to some food, and to the price of a
ticket of admission to the concert in Frankenhausen. His struggles he
faithfully records thus:--
"In Ashausen, a village three-quarters of an hour's walk from Heringen,
I went into the inn for the night. It was Sunday. The room below was
full. I heard music in the upper room; went up stairs, and found there
was dancing going on. I watched the dancers for a long time. Then,
merely for my love of music, I placed myself among the musicians and
played occasionally with them. When they thus recognised me as a
musician, they treated me--but, unfortunately, with spirits. However,
sometimes bread and butter, and oftener cake, was handed to them, of
which I was likewise asked to partake; and this suited me better. After
the dancing was over, several peasants gathered round the new musician,
and I played to them dance-tunes on the violin, which they liked better
than the tunes of their own band. I took up a horn, having learnt the
instrument formerly, and blew them a piece or two. They now wanted to
treat me with spirits, which I however felt obliged to decline, although
it was fine liqueur; for I am no spirit-drinker. The cake, unhappily,
was consumed. I now learnt that they were celebrating the baptism of a
child. I only wished they might continue the whole night, as it would
save me the expense of a bed. However, about three o'clock in the
morning the last of the company departed, and I had to go down into the
public room, where I threw myself on a bench to avoid paying for a bed.
Nevertheless, the unreasonable host demanded that I should pay him for
having slept in his house; but this I did not, because I had only two
groschen[44] in my possession, and could not entirely divest myself of
cash. I therefore paid him only a half groschen for a cup of coffee in
the morning."
Arrived, on Monday, at Heringen: "In the afternoon I happen to pass the
church, which is open. I enter and sit down, tarrying near to my Only
Friend. There I remain alone for a long time, occupied with my
reflections; for, I stand so alone in the world.--In the evening the
decisive hour approaches; the concert at Frankenhausen is at stake,
and--Behold! I have an audience of nineteen persons, few expenses, the
host of the Town-Hall means it well with me, and Frankenhausen is safe!"
Kratz shows himself always to the greatest advantage when he is very
badly off. As soon as he gains a little money, he generally becomes
quarrelsome. It would only be painful to trace his ups and downs,--the
former occurring but occasionally, and being but slight,--until his
arrival in Cassel. In this town the manager of the theatre, perhaps in
an unguarded moment of compassion, gives him hope of an engagement as
singer. The music-director Guhr holds out the same encouragement,
amounting almost to a promise. They afterwards find that their intention
cannot possibly be carried out. Kratz, greatly disappointed, brings an
action against them for breach of promise. Other persons become
implicated in this formidable law-suit, which is carried on for about
two years. During all the time Kratz makes constant pedestrian tours
into the country, giving musical-declamatory entertainments in the small
towns and villages, living on the plainest of fare and sleeping upon
straw. When he has scraped together a few thalers, he returns to Cassel
to hand them over to his lawyer. One cannot but admire his energy; if he
had employed only half of it in a noble cause, he might have done much
good. He lost his law-suit and left Cassel.
On New Year's Eve, 1816, we find him in full-dress at a ball given by a
former fellow-student, now a person of high position in Quedlinburg, who
has taken him for a week into his house, and has dressed him up. The
next day, Kratz reflects upon the event, in his journal, thus:--
"January 1st, 1817. Every thing changes in life. The deadening winter is
followed by the reviving spring; out of the moistened eye beams again
the sun-ray of joy. The first day of the last year found me in the hut
of a peasant, sleeping on a couch of straw, and my rest unpleasantly
disturbed by the firing of volleys by the peasant lads; the first day of
this year finds me awake in a brilliantly-lighted saloon, where I am
surrounded by varicoloured figures moving in the brightness of light,
where the sound of music floats agreeably about my ears, while I am
blissfully waltzing round with the most charming girl in the room."
Unfortunately for Kratz, this blissful state was of but short duration.
Soon we find him again as before in his "Rambles of an Artist," except
that he now moves gradually to the North, until he reaches Hamburg,
which he enters, and where we lose sight of him.
In the present survey several books have been mentioned which possess
but little value. Still, they deserve a place among the fanciful,
paradoxical, extravagant, and quaint publications relating to the art of
music. Some more might have been cited; but the list is probably large
enough to convince the lover of music that we are by no means in want of
curiosities in our musical literature.
[Illustration]
[37] 'Hinterlassene Schriften von C. M. von Weber. Zweite Ausgabe,
Leipzig, 1850.' Vol. II., P. 14.
[38] 'Geschichte der Oper in Berlin, von L. Schneider. Berlin, 1850,' P.
240.
[39] 'Universal-Lexicon der Tonkunst. Stuttgardt, 1835.'
[40] Rochlitz wrote this in the year 1828. See 'Allgemeine musikalische
Zeitung,' Jahrgang XXX, P. 489.
[41] 'Louis Spohr's Selbstbiographie. Cassel, 1861.' Vol. II., P. 404.
[42] A Midsummer-Night's Dream, Act I., Scene 2.
[43] The Tenor (Italian, _Viola di braccio_) is called in German
_Bratsche_, corrupted here into _Pr‰tschel_.
[44] A groschen is about an English penny.
[Illustration]