'Now I think of remaining here quietly; it is unfortunately useless

for me to make plans, for only that happens which comes of itself.

'Nevertheless I wish to have the Requiem in my own cupboard again,

so send....'[22]

To this note Dietrich returned no answer, and Brahms, becoming

impatient, applied for information as to the whereabouts of his work to

Joachim, who wrote back that it was in Reinthaler's keeping. Possibly

Brahms may have been a little startled at finding that Dietrich, in his

eager friendship, had put such an elastic interpretation upon the

mention of the Bremen director quoted in our last chapter as to pass

over the injunction not to part with the manuscript; but however this

may be, he cannot but have been gratified at finding, as the result,

that the musician of his own selection had been so impressed by the work

as to wish to produce it at the earliest appropriate opportunity in the

cathedral of Bremen. It is known to some of Reinthaler's old friends

that he suggested the enlargement of the work to the dimensions of an

oratorio. That Brahms did not entertain the proposal is matter of

history.

The first performance of the Requiem, as originally completed, to be

given under Brahms' direction in Bremen Cathedral, was fixed for Good

Friday, April 10, 1868. Meanwhile the composer's engagements kept him in

Austria. The first three numbers of the new work were to be produced

under Herbeck at the Gesellschaft concert of December 1, and a tour

arranged with Joachim for the ante-Christmas concert-season included

concerts in Vienna, Budapest, and various provincial towns. The journey,

which opened at Vienna on November 9, was triumphantly successful.

Joachim performed the great solos of his répertoire by Bach, Tartini,

and Spohr, and shorter pieces by Schumann and Paganini, with all of

which concert-goers are now familiar, appearing also on his own account

in several great orchestral concerts. Brahms played works by Bach,

Schumann, Schubert, and some of his own compositions. Together the

concert-givers were heard in several of Beethoven's duet Sonatas,

Schubert's Fantasia, Op. 159, and Rondo Brilliant, Op. 70, etc.

'When Brahms and Joachim play Beethoven, Bach, Schubert together, the

conceptions are like living tone pictures,' says Billroth, who, called

to Vienna about a year after his first acquaintance with Brahms at

Zürich and settled there for good, had the delight of receiving and

hearing his two great artist friends at his house several times during

the two months of Joachim's stay.

The Gesellschaft concert of December 1 was devoted to the memory of

Schubert, and the three first numbers of the German Requiem formed an

appropriate first portion of a programme of which the second half

consisted of a selection from Schubert's music to 'Rosamund,' given for

the first time in a concert-room. The choruses were, of course, sung by

the Singverein, and Dr. Pänzer, of the imperial chapel, was responsible

for the baritone solo of the Requiem.

The performance of Brahms' movements did not result in a success, though

the two first were received with some tokens of approval. At the

conclusion of the third an extraordinary scene took place. The now

celebrated pedal point,[23] on which the last section of this number is

constructed, produced--partly owing to a mistake of the drummer, who

drowned the chorus by playing the famous 'D' _forte_ throughout--a

condition of nervous tension in a portion of the audience, a longing to

be relieved from the monotony of the one dominating sound; and when the

composer appeared on the platform in answer to the calls of some of his

hearers, unmistakable demonstrations of hostility mingled with the

plaudits. It may, indeed, be confidently surmised, and cannot appear

surprising, that but few even of those who supported him on this

occasion had any clear conception either of the meaning or importance of

his work. To Hanslick it appeared

'one of the ripest fruits in the domain of sacred music, developed

out of the style of Beethoven's late works.... The harmonic and

contrapuntal art learnt by Brahms in the school of Bach, and

inspired by him with the living breath of the present, is almost

forgotten in the expression of touching lament, increasing to the

annihilating death-shudder.'

Of its reception he says:

'It is intelligible that a composition so difficult to understand,

and which deals only with ideas of death, is not adapted for

popular success and that it does not entirely answer to the demands

of a great public. We should have supposed, however, that a

presentiment of the greatness and seriousness of the work would

have suggested itself even to those who do not like it and would

have won their respect. This seems not to have been the case with

half a dozen gray-haired fanatics of the old school, who had the

rudeness to greet the applauding majority and the composer, as he

appeared, with prolonged hissing--a requiem on the decorum and good

manners of a Vienna concert-room which astonishes and grieves us.'

Schelle, after reviewing the first number sympathetically and the second

almost enthusiastically, continues:

'Unfortunately the third is extremely inferior to it [No. 2]; the

text demanded a strong increase of effect which the composer has

been incapable of giving. The bass solo is not written gratefully

for the voice and there is much that is obtrusively bizarre and

unedifying in the chorus.... The movement was a failure....'

Hirsch did not fail to make use of his opportunity in the _Wiener

Zeitung_. He speaks of the 'heathenish noise of the kettledrums,' and

declares 'in the interest of truth' that the opposition party in the

audience had an immense majority.'

The concert is mentioned by Billroth in a letter dated December 24:

'I like Brahms better every time I meet him. Hanslick says, quite

rightly, that he has the same fault as Bach and Beethoven; he has

too little of the sensuous in his art both as composer and pianist.

I think it is rather an intentional avoidance of everything

sensuous as of a fault. His Requiem is so nobly spiritual and so

Protestant-Bachish that it was difficult to make it go down here.

The hissing and clapping became really violent; it was a party

conflict. In the end the applause conquered.'

It is characteristic of Brahms that his belief in the future of his work

was not diminished by the untoward incidents of this occasion. He looked

forward to the result of the coming performance in Bremen with a

confidence that was even enhanced by the fact that he had gained

experience with respect to the instrumentation of the third chorus.

He sent part of his manuscript to Marxsen with a letter from which the

following quotation was first published by Sittard in his 'Studien und

Charakteristiken':

'I send you some novelties and beg you, if time allows, to write me

_one_ or _many_ words about them. I enclose also something from my

Requiem and _on this I earnestly beg you to write to me_. It looks

rather curious in places and perhaps, in order to spare my

manuscript, you would take some music paper and put down useful

remarks. _I should like that very much._ The eternal "D" in No. 3.

If I do not use the organ it does not sound. There is much I should

like to ask. I hope you have time and some inclination; then you

will perceive at once what there is to ask and what to say.'

It is, as Hanslick observed, by no means unintelligible that the first

part of the German Requiem was not immediately accepted by the general

body of listeners assembled at the Gesellschaft concert of December 1,

unprepared as they were for the new and important element underlying its

conception. The title chosen by the composer was at the time, and has

been occasionally since, demurred to as misleading, on account of the

long association of the term Requiem with the ritual of the Roman

Church. It should, however, be obvious that by the word 'German'

departure is indicated from the practice of previous composers, which

places the composition in a category of its own and gives to its message

an applicableness beyond the limitations of creed. Brahms arranged his

own words, and by the fact of doing so, by his inspired musical

treatment of his texts, and his direct avoidance of giving to his work

an association with a particular church service or a familiar musical

form, requiem or mass, cantata or oratorio, has preserved in it, whether

or not consciously, an element of personal fervour that constitutes part

of the secret of its spell.

The texts, culled from various books of the Old and New Testaments and

the Apocrypha,[24] have been chosen, with entire absence of so-called

doctrinal purpose, as parts of the people's book, of Luther's Bible, the

accepted representative to Protestant nations of the highest aspirations

of man, and have been so arranged as to present in succession the

ascending ideas of sorrow consoled, doubt overcome, death vanquished.

That they open and close with the thought of love is not of necessity

to be ascribed solely to the artistic requirements of the work, or the

exigencies of its sacred theme. Whoever has studied Brahms' life and

works with sympathetic insight will be aware that the suggestion of love

triumphant runs through both like a continuous silver thread, and it is

open to those who choose, to accept this as indicative of a faith

dwelling within him, which was none the less fruitful for good because

it knew nothing of the dogma of the Churches.

The opening chorus of the Requiem furnishes the key-note of its spirit:

'_Blessed are they that mourn, for they shall be comforted. He that

goeth forth and weepeth, bearing precious seed, shall doubtless come

again with joy, bearing his sheaves with him. They that sow in tears

shall reap in joy._'

What more reassuring prelude could prepare the human soul for encounter

with its most dreaded foe than these inspired words, heard in the

exquisite setting of consolation by which the composer has illumined

their meaning? The tenderness of the benediction, the passion of the

anticipation, the recurring mournful calm that dies away in the softest

whisper of comfort, place the mind in an attitude of awed suspense which

finds its solution in the opening bars of the solemn, mysterious march

of the second movement. Here we are surely in the majestic presence of

death incarnate, wrapped, however, in a haze of beauty, sorrow,

tenderness, compassion, that betoken, not the ruthless enemy of mankind,

but a deeply mournful messenger subdued to a Divine purpose. '_Behold,

all flesh is as grass, and all the glory of man as the flower of

grass_,' chant the altos and tenors in unison an octave above the

basses, something of unearthliness in their tones, with the alternate

repetitions of the march; and the delicate, evanescent harmonies of the

answering phrase, '_The grass withereth, the flower fadeth_,' strangely

deepen the impression of transitoriness conveyed by the text. Relief is

given by a middle episode of somewhat more animated character: '_Be

patient therefore, brethren, unto the coming of the Lord. Behold, the

husbandman waiteth for the precious fruit of the earth, and hath, long

patience for it until he receive the early and latter rain. Be ye also

patient._' The final ending of the march, which is repeated after the

episode, is succeeded by the outburst of a transitional passage--'_God's

word endureth for ever_'--leading to the vigorous gladness of the second

section of the movement (fugato)--'_And the ransomed of the Lord shall

return and come to Zion with songs and everlasting joy upon their heads:

they shall obtain joy and gladness, and sorrow and sighing shall flee

away_'--whose ringing, jubilant tones are checked only by the passing

shade of sorrow, until it subsides into the more tranquilly happy mood

in which the chorus terminates.

In the third number the vision alters. To exaltation succeeds abasement.

We are shown the despondency, that is almost despair, of the soul

prostrate before its Lord: '_Lord, make me to know mine end, and the

number of my days what it is, that I may know how frail I am_.' The

movement opens with a baritone solo, supported by basses, drums, and

horn, which seems to crave nothing, hope for nothing. Words and melody

are, however, immediately repeated in chorus with plain harmonies that

somewhat relieve the first impressive gloom. Then there is a change. The

final cadence of the solo[25] becomes, in the chorus, a surprise cadence

upon which the baritone re-enters: '_Behold, thou hast made my days as

an handbreadth, and mine age is as nothing before thee_.' The tension

relaxes, and a note of pleading makes itself felt that is strengthened

in the choral repetition of the phrase by the movement of the

accompanying instruments. Through despondency, through resignation,

through questioning, the soul gradually rises to hope: '_Verily man at

his best state is altogether vanity. Surely every man walketh in a vain

show, surely they are disquieted in vain; he heapeth up riches, and

knoweth not who shall gather them. Now, Lord, what do I wait for?_' The

pleading becomes importunity, and the crisis is reached with the

reiteration of the last words, first in an increasing agitation, and

finally in deliberate, hushed tones that seem to challenge the Lord. The

effect that follows is, perhaps, unsurpassed in its pure loveliness

throughout the domain of sacred music. With the passage '_My hope is in

thee_' all doubt is resolved in a glow of warmth, reconciliation, and

trust, and the perfect assurance of faith, '_The souls of the righteous

are in God's hand_' becomes the subject of an accompanied choral fugue,

constructed from beginning to end upon a tonic pedal point, which

establishes the brief inspiration of the transition passage in a

protracted expression of unshakable confidence, and forms, not only the

climax of the movement, but the first climax of the entire work. In it

the soul attains to an elevation of faith from which it does not again

falter. Though sorrow may not yet be finally subdued, doubt is

conquered, and the fourth number--'_How amiable are thy dwellings, O

Lord of Hosts! My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the courts of the

Lord: my heart and my flesh crieth out for the living God. Blessed are

they that dwell in thy house; they will be still praising thee_'--is a

clear, melodious choral song with a flowing accompaniment, harmonized

simply, and with an occasional point of imitation, that expresses simple

affection and trust, emphasized towards the close of the movement by the

employment of increased contrapuntal resource.

The fifth number, added, as we have said, after the work was first

finished, and not essential to its conception as a whole, may have been

conceded to some need of contrast felt by the composer on hearing the

completed six movements consecutively. It consists of a very beautiful

soprano solo with chorus, of rather mystic character, to the words '_And

ye now are sorrowful. As one whom his mother comforteth, so will I

comfort you._'

The sixth chorus opens with a dirge--'_For we have no abiding city, but

we seek one to come_'--soon to be interrupted by the baritone solo:

'_Behold, I shew you a mystery: we shall not all sleep, but we shall be

changed._' The words are repeated by the chorus with a heightening

agitation of mysterious expectancy, that leaps suddenly at the clarion

call to tumultuous exultation: '_In a moment, in the twinkling of an

eye, at the trump: for the trumpet shall sound, and the dead shall be

raised incorruptible, and we shall be changed._' The wild agitation is

stayed by the quiet message of the solo, '_Then shall be brought to pass

the saying that is written_,' and a prolonged half-cadence leads to the

re-entry of the chorus in a magnificently-sustained inspiration of

triumphant joy: '_Death is swallowed up in victory. O death, where is

thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory?_' The glorious movement, after

mounting from height to height of power and splendour, suddenly, with an

unexpected change of time and key, reaches its climax in a brilliant

fugue, that seems, with its passion of never-ending praise, to reopen

the door of heaven and to transport the soul of the hearer to the

dazzling scene of the throne that is filled with the ineffable presence

of God: '_Thou art worthy, O Lord, to receive honour and power, for thou

hast created all things, and for thy good pleasure they are and were

created._'

The great work has now reached its final climax. The imagination of the

modern seer, soaring beyond sorrow, doubt, death, has pierced for a

moment through the mystery of things and shown us the unspeakable. But

the vision is not yet at an end. As in the writing of the Revelation of

St. John, so in the inspired music of the German Requiem. After the

lightnings and thunders and all the manifold glory of the throne, the

voice of the spirit: '_Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord

henceforth; Yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their

labours, and their works do follow them._' Confident, tender, majestic,

the message floats through the seventh movement, a veritable requiem, a

true song of peace, and, heard at length in the tones of the benediction

with which the work opens, sinks into silence with reiteration of

blessing.

It would be an attractive task to analyze the technical means that

Brahms has employed to give musical expression to the varied ideas, all

rooted in the central one of overruling love, which together form the

subject of this exalted work. Whilst he has used the resources of

classical art with a power and ease that recall the mastery of Bach and

Handel, he has given warmth and life to his creation by availing himself

of the harmonic development of musical means to which the genius of

Schumann gave such strong stimulus. Wisely conservative, he was also

modern in the best sense, nor could the German Requiem have attained the

position it has won in the hearts of thousands of men and women to whom

it has brought comfort in bereavement or solace in times of mental

distress, if he had not understood and shared in the spirit, and

answered to it in an idiom, proper to his time. This should not be

forgotten in the performance of the great work, which is sometimes given

with a cold, formal correctness supposed to be appropriate in the case

of classical compositions. Brahms was not a pedant, but a poet and

idealist, and the full beauty and fascination of his music is disclosed

only when it is interpreted with the insight that is born of enthusiasm

and imagination.

The Horn Trio was played in Vienna at the Hellmesberger Quartet concert

of December 29 by Brahms, Hellmesberger, and Kleinecke. Kleinecke

performed on the natural horn, and the beauty of his tone was remarked

on by one or two of the critics. The trio was received not unfavourably,

but with the reserve that usually attended the early performances of the

composer's works in the imperial capital at this period of his career.

The publications of the year were but two in number--the set of sixteen

Waltzes for four hands on the Piano, dedicated to Hanslick; and a book

of five Songs for men's four-part Chorus, both issued in the spring by

Rieter-Biedermann. Several, at least, of the waltzes date from the

Detmold period, and were played by Brahms, and heard by Carl von

Meysenbug, at the Hôtel Stadt Frankfurt. They are inimitable in their

delicate, caressing grace, and possess a charm which perhaps exceeds

that of any known examples of their kind. They were performed from the

manuscript, as finally arranged for publication, by Frau Schumann and

Dietrich at a music party given by the Grand-Duchess of Oldenburg in the

autumn of 1866.

Joachim's prolonged visit to Austria came to an end in the second week

of the New Year with a farewell dinner given in his honour by Brahms,

Billroth, Hanslick, and other friends, and a fortnight later he removed

with his family from Hanover to Berlin. His residence was permanently

fixed in the Prussian capital in the course of the following year by his

acceptance of the post of director of the Royal High School for Music

(executive art), which was about to be founded by King William of

Prussia (afterwards the German Emperor William I.), as an addition to

the State department for Art and Science, and in the planning and

practical arrangement of which Joachim actively participated. Under his

devoted management, it quickly rose to the high state of prosperity for

which it has long been famous, and now, after more than thirty-five

years of existence, it still enjoys the high advantage and distinction

of his personal labour and influence as director, conductor, and

teacher. The occasion of the opening in 1902, by the Emperor William

II., of the spacious new buildings of the Royal Schools for Art and

Science at Charlottenburg, of which the fine new music school is one,

must have seemed to the great veteran musician, as he recalled the

modest beginnings of his own special department in 1869, as one that

included the crowning of much of the activity of his life.

Brahms quitted Vienna a few weeks after his friend to fulfil a series of

concert engagements, most of them arranged with Stockhausen, for the

months of February and March, by which he hoped to make his journey to

North Germany on the business of the Requiem answer a practical as well

as an artistic purpose. He took up his headquarters at his father's

house, and it was the last time that he returned from Vienna to Hamburg

as to his nominal home. The post of conductor of the Philharmonic had

again fallen vacant in 1867 by Stockhausen's resignation, and again,

though Brahms did not apply for the appointment, there was a strong

conviction amongst his friends that he would accept it if it were

offered him. But it was not to be. Admired and loved as he was in

Hamburg by an ever-increasing circle of friends, it was by a circle

only. He was not popular with the average musician or the general

public, and the Philharmonic committee passed him over a second time,

electing Julius von Bernuth as Stockhausen's successor. Brahms said

little on the subject, but it is fairly certain that the mortification

caused him by this repeated slight from the musical officialdom of his

native city sufficed to lead him to the determination at which he soon

afterwards arrived, to settle permanently in Vienna.

Brahms made several public appearances in Hamburg during the second half

of February. He performed, at the Philharmonic concert of the 14th,

Beethoven's G major Concerto and Schumann's Etudes Symphoniques, adding

to the published version of the latter several variations contained in

Schumann's original manuscript. On the same occasion Stockhausen sang

Schubert's songs 'Memnon' and 'Geheimniss' to orchestral accompaniments

arranged by Brahms, at his request, a year or two previously. The

composer was able to spare a few days for Bremen, in order to make

Reinthaler's personal acquaintance, though his numerous engagements for

March obliged him to leave the work of preparation and rehearsal in the

experienced hands of his new friend. He played at the Oldenburg

subscription concert of the 4th,[26] and gave concerts with Stockhausen

during the same week in Dresden and Berlin, appearing for the first time

before the public of either capital. At the second concert in Berlin

(March 7) Nos. 3 and 5 of the 'Magelone Romances' were included in the

programme. On the 11th the two artists gave a soirée in Hamburg, when

Stockhausen introduced Brahms' 'Mailied' and 'Von ewiger Liebe' from the

manuscripts, and gave several folk-songs as an encore. At Kiel, where

they appeared on the 13th, they made the acquaintance of Löwe, the

famous ballad composer, now a man of seventy-two, with whose music

Brahms proved to be thoroughly familiar. Their next destination was

Copenhagen, where they had arranged to give four concerts. Stockhausen's

selection on the first of these occasions included songs by Stradella,

Schubert, and Boieldieu, all accompanied by Brahms, who performed as his

solos a Toccata and Fugue by Sebastian Bach Andante by Friedemann Bach,

two Scarlatti movements, Beethoven's Sonata in E flat, Op. 27, and, of

his own compositions, Variations on an original theme and the early

Scherzo in E flat minor. Both artists awakened a furore. Stockhausen

'electrified the house'; Brahms was 'enormously applauded,' especially

after the performance of his own compositions. The second concert, given

within the next few days, was equally successful. The concert-room was

crowded, the audience extraordinarily enthusiastic, and the financial

result brilliant beyond expectation. Then Brahms committed a _faux pas_,

which put an end, so far as he was concerned, to further result of the

triumph.

Being asked, at a party given by the Danish composer Niels Gade in his

and Stockhausen's honour, if he had visited and admired the great

Thorwaldsen Museum, of which the citizens of Copenhagen are so justly

proud, he replied in the affirmative, and added that the building and

its collection were so fine it was to be regretted they were not in

Berlin. This unfortunate remark, made in a circle representative of

educated Danish society, where the remembrance of the recent Prussian

occupation of Schleswig-Holstein was still sore, produced an effect

which the speaker had been far from intending. It was regarded as a

deliberate insult to the country in which Brahms had been a fêted guest,

and was resented so strongly as to make the composer's reappearance on a

Copenhagen platform impossible. Pursuing the wisest course open, he

embarked on the next boat for Kiel, leaving Stockhausen to make such

arrangements as he could for the third advertised concert, and to pursue

his success further by associating himself with Joachim, who was about

to pay a short visit to the Danish capital.

Arriving at Kiel at a very early hour in the morning, Brahms proceeded

to the house of Claus Groth, whose guest he had been on his outward

journey, and, walking in the garden until the inmates were astir, was

presently greeted by his friend from an upper window. 'Be quick and come

out; I have made a heap of money,' he cried in answer, slapping his

pocket. Coffee was soon served and a lively talk ensued, but, as no

explanation was offered by Brahms of his sudden reappearance, Groth at

length began to question him. 'What have you been about that you have,

so to say, run away? Stockhausen has not returned, and you have had

great success?' And thus brought to the point, the delinquent was

obliged to relate his indiscretion. 'Brahms! how could you have said

such a thing in a company of Danes!' cried Groth. 'I only meant,'

replied Brahms, 'that it would be better if so fine a work, so many

beautiful objects, were in a great centre where many people could see

them.' 'But you might have supposed Danes would not put up with such a

remark.' 'It did not occur to me,' answered Brahms. 'However,' he added

after a moment, 'I have earned so much money I shall not want more for a

long time; so the matter is indifferent to me.'

Brahms arrived in Bremen on the first day of April, to remain until

after the 10th as the guest of Reinthaler, with whom he soon became

intimate. Appreciation of his works had steadily grown in the artistic

circles of Bremen since the musical life of the city had been under the

leadership of the distinguished artist whose name will remain associated

with the first performance of the then complete German Requiem; and the

Good Friday concert of this year was anticipated with the interest

attaching to an event of unusual importance, the more so as many

distinguished visitors from far and near were expected to be present as

performers or in the audience. To the gratification of the former

members of the Ladies' Choir, Brahms expressed a wish that the old

favourite society should be represented in the chorus, and four of the

most enthusiastic and trusty of his quondam disciples--Fräulein Garbe,

Fräulein Reuter, Fräulein Seebohm, and Fräulein Marie Völckers--answered

to his summons, arriving at Bremen in time to take part in the last

general rehearsal. The programme of the sacred concert, the proceeds of

which were to be devoted to the Bremen musicians' provident fund,

included the German Requiem (baritone solo, Stockhausen), between the

first and second parts of which, some of the miscellaneous items were

placed; movements by Bach and Tartini, and Schumann's Abendlied for

violin (Joachim); 'I know that my Redeemer liveth' (Frau Joachim); air

for contralto with violin obligato from Bach's 'Matthew Passion' (Frau

Joachim and Joachim); and the 'Hallelujah' chorus. Brahms was to conduct

his new work, Reinthaler the remaining selections. All the soloists gave

their services.

The doors of St. Peter's Cathedral Church opened punctually at six

o'clock on Good Friday evening, and during the next hour the visitors,

many of them old acquaintances of the reader, streamed to their places.

Frau Reinthaler and Frau Stockhausen were of course present. The

Dietrichs, with their friend Fräulein Berninger, came from Oldenburg,

the Grimms from Münster. The Hamburg contingent included Minna Völckers,

the composer's former pupil and very stanch friend, now grown up into a

young lady, and her father, who had invited Jakob Brahms to accompany

them as his guest. Max Bruch, Schübring, and young Richard Barth were

there. Switzerland was represented by the future publisher of the

Requiem, Rieter-Biedermann; England by the enthusiastic John Farmer; and

shortly before the time of commencement Frau Schumann walked up the nave

on Brahms' arm. She had arranged that her intention of making the

journey from Baden-Baden with her daughter Marie should be kept a secret

from the composer, and the two ladies surprised him with their greeting

at the cathedral door.

No pains had been spared in the preparation of chorus and orchestra, and

their difficult tasks were perfectly achieved.

'The impression made by the wonderful, splendidly performed work

was quite overpowering,' says Dietrich, 'and it immediately became

clear to the listeners that the German Requiem would live as one of

the most exalted creations of musical art.'

The composer, the executants, and their friends, to the number of about

a hundred, met for supper in the ancient Rathskeller close to the

cathedral, and listened afterwards to a short address by Consul

Hirschfeld and to about a dozen other speeches.

'It is with great pleasure and justifiable pride,' said Reinthaler,

'that I greet this distinguished assemblage of visitors, some of

them gathered to perform, and others to hear, the new work of the

composer who is staying in our midst. The circumstance that it has

been performed for the first time here in Bremen gives me quite

peculiar happiness. It is a great and beautiful--one may say, an

epoch-making work, which has filled us who have heard it to-day

with pride, since it has inspired in us the conviction that German

art has not died out, but that it begins to stir again and will

thrive as gloriously as of old.

'A gloomy, anxious period has intervened since our last dear master

was carried to the grave;[27] it has almost seemed as though the

evening of musical art had fallen upon us; but to-day we are

reassured. In the German Requiem we believe that we have a sequel

worthy of the achievements of the great masters of the past.

'That I have had the good fortune to contribute towards ensuring a

not quite unworthy performance of the work gives me lively

satisfaction. Everyone concerned, however, has supported me to this

end. Each has brought cheerful good-will to his task, and devoted

himself to it with active zeal and unmixed enthusiasm, for each

felt it to be an elevating one.

'You will all certainly rejoice with me that the creator of the

glorious work is present amongst us and will joyfully raise your

glasses to the health of the composer, our Brahms.'

Brahms' answer was characteristically short and to the purpose:

'If I venture to say a few words to-night, I must premise that the

gift of oratory is in no wise at my command. There are, however,

amongst those present, many to whom I wish to say a word of thanks,

many dear friends who have been kind and good to me, and this is

especially the case with my friend Reinthaler, who has given

himself with such self-sacrifice to the preparation of my Requiem.

I place my collective thanks upon his head therefore, and call for

three cheers for his name.'

It may surprise and interest English readers to know that their country

was toasted on an occasion so peculiarly representative of German music

and musicians. After the various artists who had assisted in the

performance and one or two of the other distinguished guests had been

duly honoured, John Farmer rose to his feet, and delivered himself of

his sentiments in such German as he could command.

'I have come from a city,' he said, 'that is much larger than

Bremen, in which there are many fine houses and many rich men. You,

however, may be prouder than all the rich men in the big houses,

who are, indeed, very unfortunate. They have no such beautiful

music as you in Germany. If you were to come to England, and Brahms

himself were to come with you, to perform the Requiem, they would

not attend the concert, or if they were to attend it they would

say, "Is the fellow crazy?" You can have no idea how fortunate you

are in being able to understand all this beautiful music. Oh, I

have observed and have perceived that each one has followed it with

love and the whole energy of his soul! When I return to England, I

shall relate what I have seen, and will hope that we may, before

long, become as fortunate as yourselves and may be able to

understand and perform German music as you do.'

England found its defender in Herr Lehmann, who immediately rose to

reply:

'I would venture, nevertheless, to say a word in England's honour.

So many artists have met with an encouraging reception or have

found a happy home there; there are so many Englishmen who

understand and sympathize with German art and German life, that I

would beg leave to propose a glass to the honour of art-loving

England.'

The feeling of satisfaction expressed in Reinthaler's speech that the

distinction of the first performance of the German Requiem should have

fallen to Bremen was generally shared by the musicians and amateurs of

the city.

'Reinthaler has, with laudable judgment, concentrated his best powers

upon the arrangement of a concert which has given to Bremen a

distinctive artistic reputation,' says the critic of the _Bremen

Courier_, and the sentiment was expressed practically, as well as

verbally, in a communication sent to the composer a few days after his

return to Hamburg. The work was repeated on Tuesday, April 28, in the

hall of the Union, under Reinthaler's direction, when the baritone solo

was sung by Franz Krolop.

It is pleasant to be able to associate with the musical events of

1868--the year which, by virtue of the occurrences now recorded, marked

the beginning of a new period in Brahms' outward career and established

him in the eyes of the musicians of Europe as the greatest living artist

in his own domain--the name of an early friend whose skilled

appreciation of his genius had cheered and encouraged him in the dark

days of his youth. Frau Dr. Louise Langhans-Japha played the Quintet in

F minor for pianoforte and strings at her concert in the Salle Erard,

Paris, on March 24, and secured for it a very decided success. It is

impossible actually to affirm that the work was heard for the first time

in public in its final form on this occasion, but it is the first public

performance of which the author has been able to find record.

Brahms stayed on in the north for several weeks after the Good Friday

concert at Bremen, and found time to pay another, this time a holiday,

visit to the Reinthalers, and to make the acquaintance of many of their

friends. He derived particular pleasure from the society of some small

playfellows who welcomed him to Frau Reinthaler's nursery, and struck up

a special friendship with the eldest daughter of the house, little

Henriette. Hearing the child, hardly out of baby years, practising the

treble of a little pianoforte duet, he proposed to take the bass, and,

amusing himself by striking a wrong note, was promptly rebuked by his

colleague. 'You have played a wrong note,' said Misi, stopping short.

'Nun, we must do it again,' returned Brahms penitently, and recommenced.

'You have played another!' cried Misi; nor could the master be

pronounced perfect in his part until after two more attempts. He

stayed, too, for a few days in Oldenburg, and whilst there made several

excursions in the neighbourhood with Dietrich and Reinthaler. Driving

one day to Wilhelmshaven, the great northern war-harbour of Germany, he

was unusually absent-minded and serious, and mentioned that he had been

much struck with Hölderlin's poem, 'Hyperion's Song of Destiny,' which

he had read in the morning for the first time. After inspecting the

harbour and its sights, he withdrew to a distant part of the beach,

where he was observed by his friends to be busy with pencil and paper.

He was putting down the first sketches of his now celebrated setting of

the work.

Brahms spent the remainder of the year in Germany and Switzerland. After

attending the Rhine Festival held the last week of May in Cologne, he

settled down for some months at 6, Kessenicherweg, Bonn, in order to be

near Dr. Deiters, whom he met daily and admitted to his confidence on

the subject of his work. He was occupied with the final preparation of

the manuscript of the Requiem for the engraver, and played it through to

his friend, who had already studied it from the manuscript, saying, in

the course of the just-completed fifth number, '... _I will comfort you

as a mother comforts_,' that here he had thought of his mother.[28] He

was engaged again, also, with the C minor Pianoforte Quartet, which, as

we have seen,[29] has associations with a very much earlier period, and

played the sketches to Dr. Deiters, though the work was not finally

completed until after the further lapse of several years. The music to

Goethe's cantata 'Rinaldo' was in progress, and was finished shortly

before he quitted Bonn. Deiters was fortunate enough to have the

opportunity of listening, at his own house or in Brahms' rooms, to the

composer's interpretation of some of his published works, and to hear

his own opinion of many of his songs, which he estimated very variously.

Amongst those of which he thought most highly at this time was the 'Von

ewiger Liebe,' published later in the year as No. 1 of Op. 43.

Brahms was in happy summer mood throughout the time of his sojourn on

the Rhine. The fondness for dumb pets that always characterized him,

though he kept none of his own, was gratified by the confidence of some

pigeons that used to fly into his room and come to him to be fed. He

invited his father to join him during the last ten days of his stay, and

pleased himself by showing him the Rhine country and introducing him to

his friend. It was the only year of his life during which there was

intimate personal intercourse between himself and Deiters, but the two

men remained in correspondence, and the composer frequently sent copies

of his new works as they appeared, with an autograph inscription, to the

critic whose early appreciation through a period when their personal

acquaintance had been of the slightest had awakened in him a strong

feeling of regard and esteem. 'I feel under a great debt of obligation

to friend Deiters,' he says in the course of a letter to Dietrich

written in 1867.

Jakob Brahms was not allowed to return to Hamburg until he had a second

time tested his capacity for enjoying the delights of mountain scenery

by accompanying his son on a few weeks' journey in Switzerland; but

though Johannes made all possible arrangements to spare his father

fatigue, it became evident that he was very homesick. 'See, Johannes,

here is a little blue flower like that which grows near Hamburg,' he

said one day, lagging a little behind after he had walked some distance

in silence. An incident of the tour which pleased him, perhaps, better

than his pedestrian and driving experiences was the trial, at which he

was present, of the new movement of the Requiem, which the composer

wished to hear before delivering it for publication. This was arranged

for at Zürich by Hegar. Frau Suter-Weber undertook the soprano solo, and

orchestra and chorus were supplied by resident musicians. Jakob, on

this, as indeed on all occasions, fully appreciated the distinction he

derived from being his son's companion; but it is certain that he was

much relieved when the day came for him to return to his quiet home and

the unembarrassing society of his wife. 'Nu, Line, krigt mi Johannes nit

wieder hin' (Now, Lina, Johannes will not get me again), he said, as he

settled himself once more in his own chair; and he kept to his

determination, though he compromised matters on one or two subsequent

occasions by accepting his son's proposal that he should visit the Harz

and other districts in Frau Caroline's company.

Of the many pleasant social events of the year, a gathering in the

autumn at Dietrich's house in Oldenburg remains for mention. Frau

Schumann, her daughter Marie, and Brahms enjoyed their old friends'

hospitality during the last week of October, and the visit was

signalized by the first performance from the manuscript, before a

private audience, of the Hungarian Dances in their arrangement for four

hands on the piano.

'Frau Schumann and Brahms played them with an inspiration and fire

that transported everyone present,' says Dietrich.

Frau Schumann gave an evening concert in the hall of the Casino on the

30th, when her programme included her performance with the

composer--probably the first before a public audience--of Brahms'

Waltzes.[30]

Brahms and Stockhausen again united their forces in November, and gave

several concerts together. At the first of two soirées in Hamburg,

Brahms created a furore with some of the Hungarian Dances in their

arrangement as solos. The programme included a performance by

Stockhausen and his pupil Fräulein Girzik of two of the Duets, Op. 28,

the second of which was rapturously encored. Brahms, as usual,

accompanied his friend throughout the evening. He was received with

acclamation at Bremen on the 30th of the month, when he played the

pianoforte part of his A major Quartet at a concert of the excellent

resident string quartet party led by Jacobsen, a fine player, and second

concertmeister of the Bremen orchestra. On this, as on subsequent

visits to Bremen, Brahms stayed, as a matter of course, with the

Reinthalers.

Carl Bade, paying one of his frequent morning calls at the Anscharplatz

about this time, was startled as he entered the house by the appearance

of Jakob, who, coming towards him with finger on lip and laboriously

treading on tiptoe, solemnly whispered, 'Hush!...' 'What is it, Brahms?

Who is ill?' returned Bade under his breath, seriously alarmed. 'Hush!'

repeated Jakob as mysteriously as before; '_he is dor_' (he is there);

and, opening the door of the corner room, he pushed in the astonished

Carl and shut the door behind him without another word, leaving him

alone with his son, who was busy weeding out his library in readiness

for the despatch of his Hamburg possessions to Vienna. 'See here,' said

Johannes, after a kind word of greeting, giving Bade time to recover the

composure of which Jakob's strange _coup_ had for a moment robbed him,

by pointing to a volume in his hand, 'Kuhnau was a capable musician!'

The relation existing at this time between the elder and younger Brahms,

of which mention was made in an early chapter, was well illustrated

during the homely 'second breakfast' for which the party soon assembled.

Sociability was rendered impossible, in spite of the persistent efforts

of Johannes, by the father's overwhelming consciousness of his son's

presence. The awed feeling which possessed Jakob whenever he found

himself face to face with the living embodiment of his own miraculous

success in life was not unnatural, and can only inspire respect for the

memory of the older man, in whose simple humility, rooted in the

strongest and most legitimate pride, may, perhaps, be recognised some of

the essential qualities which endeared the great composer to all who

were privileged to call him friend.

Brahms returned to Vienna in December, and was, of course, present at

several concerts given there before and after Christmas by Frau

Schumann, who visited Austria after an interval of some years.

The list of publications belonging to this year is an important one,

not only because it includes the German Requiem (Rieter-Biedermann), but

because it is representative of the master in what may be roughly called

the second period of his activity as a composer of songs. From beginning

to end of his career he poured forth songs in many different forms--the

simple strophic, the 'durchcomponirtes' Lied, the latter necessarily

varying in structure with each fresh example.[31] This second period,

however, is marked not only by the sure mastery which had long

characterized Brahms' works in whatever domain he chose for the exercise

of his powers; its spirit is generally distinctive, and is that of the

poet's ripe manhood. Youth with its uncertainties is behind, age with

its gathering shadows not yet in sight; the composer holds the present

in firm grasp, and presents us with exquisite dream-pictures of life and

nature, the children of an imagination penetrated with a sense of the

beauty, the tenderness, the pathos of existence, and content in the

exercise of its ideality. Each of the five books published in 1868 (Op.

43 by Rieter-Biedermann, and Op. 46, 47, 48, 49 by Simrock) contains

such wealth of beauty that it is difficult to select either for

particular mention. Perhaps the palm should be given to Op. 43, of which

'Von ewiger Liebe' and 'Mainacht' are Nos. 1 and 2; but then, Op. 47

contains 'Botschaft,' and Op. 46 'Die Schale der Vergessenheit.'

Stockhausen, who stayed at Neuenahr in the summer of 1868, came over to

Bonn one day, and sang the greater number of these songs from the

manuscript, accompanied by the composer, to Deiters. Brahms seemed

determined not to publish 'Die Schale der Vergessenheit,' declaring it

to be too 'desolate,' but Stockhausen's enthusiasm prevailed to alter

his decision. Some of the shorter numbers belong, by date of

composition, to an earlier period, as Goethe's 'Die Liebende schreibt,'

the manuscript of which, in the possession of Frau Professor Böie, bears

the inscription 'Frl. Marie Völckers in kind remembrance' and the date

1863. The widely popular 'Wiegenlied,' Op. 49, No. 4, was composed for

one of Frau Faber's children, and the accompaniment is reminiscent of a

folk-song which Brahms heard from Fräulein Bertha Porubszky in the old

days of the Hamburg Ladies' Choir. The manuscript bears the inscription

'For Arthur and Bertha Faber for ever happy use. July 1868'; and at the

close 'Mit Grazie in infinitum,' and is in the possession of these old

friends of the composer.

Now, as ever, Brahms returned with delight to the fresh naïveté of the

folk-song, and numerous examples of his settings of texts obtained from

German, Bohemian, Italian sources are to be found in these books, of

which 'Sonntag,' Op. 47, No. 3, and 'Am Sonntag Morgen,' Op. 49, No. 1,

are perhaps the best known. 'Gold überwiegt die Liebe' is a touching

little lament (No. 4 of Op. 48). The text of 'Von ewiger Liebe' is

itself a Wendic folk-song, but the composer's treatment has placed it

amongst the finest works of German art in song-form. As a rule, however,

Brahms set folk-songs as such, and his treatment of them was direct,

and, so to say, unstudied. He has set for a single voice popular texts

of more than twenty nationalities besides his own, and, as he found

them, as they appealed to him, so he composed them, without attempt

either to interfere with the frank naturalness of the words, or to give

national colour to his music. Such musical references as he occasionally

makes in his songs to the origin of his texts are so unobtrusive as to

be hardly noticeable, excepting by a special student of the subject.[32]

'Vergangen ist mir,' Op. 48, No. 6, points back to the tonal system of

the Middle Ages. Like 'Sehnsucht,' Op. 14, No. 8, it is composed in the

Dorian mode.

The enumeration of the great song publications of 1868 is not yet at an

end. The issue by Rieter-Biedermann of Books 3, 4, 5, containing in all

nine numbers, of the 'Magelone Romances,' of which the first two books

had appeared in 1865, completed a song-cycle which ranks among the few

supreme achievements of its class, increasing to the number of four a

special group of names which had hitherto included those only of

Beethoven, Schubert, and Schumann.

The fifteen 'Magelone Romances' are extremely various in structure, and

can hardly be classified categorically under any of the ordinary

song-forms. Spitta expresses his sense of their importance by the word

'symphonic.' Brahms' own name 'Romance' sufficiently indicates their

nature, however. Some are of great, others of smaller, dimensions. Some

consist of several movements, others of one short movement in three

sections, of which the last repeats the first; one is bound into a whole

by the melody of a refrain. They give vivid expression to a wide range

of feelings: chivalric delight, progressive phases of passionate love,

the despair of separation, reawakened hope, the confident bliss of

reunion, certainty of the sacred power of love. Remembrance of the ideal

performances of Stockhausen, to whom the cycle is dedicated, was

indubitably present to Brahms' mind as he composed the songs, which,

with the exception of Nos. 11 and 13, should be sung by a man. One may

read and reread them, hear them and hear them again, but try in vain to

decide on a favourite number. Each one places the listener in an

enchanted world of noble beauty and romance, and in wealth and

individuality of idea the cycle assuredly does not rank last amongst the

few works of its kind.

The Songs and Romances Op. 44 mentioned in our first volume in

connection with the Ladies' Choir were now also published by

Rieter-Biedermann;[33] and Cranz of Hamburg issued the three Songs for

six-part Chorus _a capella_, Op. 42, all of great charm. Its five-bar

rhythm is an interesting feature of the second number, the lovely

'Vineta.' The text of No. 3, 'Darthula's Grabesgesang,' is a

translation from Ossian, and is contained in Herder's 'Stimmen der

Völker.'

'Brahms is here,' writes Billroth from Vienna on January 11, 'and

is to give concerts with Stockhausen. He is going to bring out a

cantata, Rinaldo, in February.... He is enthusiastic about the text

because it leaves so much to the composer.'

Goethe wrote his cantata expressly that music might be set to it by

Capellmeister Winter, a respectable musician of his day, for the Prince

Friedrich of Gotha, the possessor of an agreeable tenor voice, and a

good amateur vocalist. It is founded on an episode in Tasso's 'Jerusalem

Delivered,' and exhibits the conflict between weakness and strength in

the brave knight Rinaldo--a fictitious personage introduced into his

poem by Tasso--who is roused from his surrender to the witcheries of

Armida by the arrival, at the islet on which he is living with her, of a

party of knights, his friends--two only in Tasso's epic, but increased

to a chorus by Goethe. The cantata opens at a point where the knights

have succeeded in awakening Rinaldo from his dream of happiness, but are

unable to nerve him to the resolution of departure. As a final resource,

they hold up before him a diamond shield, which reflects his own image

in its degeneracy. The shock of what he sees restores him to full

consciousness, and he leaves the island in spite of Armida's

lamentations, fury, and enchantments, and his own regrets, encouraged

and supported by his friends. The final chorus with solo depicts the

happy return voyage, and the safe arrival of the ship at the shore of

the Holy Land.

Armida does not appear as a _dramatis persona_ in Goethe's work, and

Brahms' music is accordingly composed for tenor solo, men's chorus, and

orchestra. The poem is short and concise, containing but one dramatic

situation, but its very terseness has been advantageous to the composer,

for the text has not fettered his imagination by detail, whilst it has

supplied him with sufficient material for powerful and contrasted

musical presentation in the enchantments of Armida, the storm raised by

her to prevent the ship's departure, the calm, persuasive firmness of

the knights, the vacillation of Rinaldo (expressed in the first instance

in an impassioned scena), his pleadings with his friends, his final

awakening and recovery from the intensity of passion. Of all these

points Brahms has availed himself with force and warmth of imagination.

Many interesting details of the composition tempt our notice, but we may

only stay to direct the reader's attention to the conviction inspired by

the choruses of the noble, lovable character of the knights; to the

masterly means employed--so simple that only a master would have

ventured to restrict himself to them--at the moment when the shield is

displayed, which, in their place, convey, without any attempt at

tone-painting, but with absolute distinctness, the impression of the

friends' gentle determination with the shrinking Rinaldo; to the bright

martial movement in which the knights encourage him by reminding him of

the flashing lances, the waving pennons, the whole brilliant battle

array, of the crusaders' army from which the allurements of Armida have

too long detained him. In the final chorus a favourable wind swells the

sails of the ship, which rides joyously over the green waves, breaking

them into light foam as she passes, whilst Rinaldo and his companions

amuse themselves by watching the dolphins at play in the water, and are

filled with a light-hearted happiness that, as land is sighted, bursts

into exultant shouting of the names of Godfrey and Solyma (Jerusalem).

The work was performed for the first time from the manuscript, under the

composer's direction, on February 28, 1869, at a concert of the

Akademischer Gesangverein, Vienna. The title-part was sung with great

success by Gustav Walter, three hundred students well prepared by Dr.

Eyrich, the society's conductor, were responsible for the choruses, and

the orchestral accompaniments were performed by the entire body of

instrumentalists of the court opera.

A series of three concerts, given in Vienna in February and March by

Brahms and Stockhausen were phenomenally successful. The great baritone

had not been heard in the Austrian capital for many years, and all

tickets for the first concert were sold immediately after its

announcement. Brahms' selection for the series included works by Handel,

Bach, Couperin, Gluck, Beethoven, Schubert, Schumann, some of his own

Variations--notably those of the B flat Sextet--and Hungarian Dances;

and he accompanied his friend in many of the most celebrated songs of

his répertoire. The wonderful performance by the two artists of Brahms'

songs 'Von ewiger Liebe' and 'Mainacht' was one of the choice delights

of the first concert. A feature of the second was the performance by

Stockhausen and Fräulein Girzik of two of the composer's vocal duets.

The enthusiasm excited by the concert-givers in Vienna was equalled in

Budapest, whither they proceeded on March 10, in order to give a similar

series; and it was, if possible, exceeded on their final reappearance in

Vienna.

These concerts are of peculiar interest in Brahms' career, because the

last of them closes the period of his activity as a virtuoso. For

fourteen years, from the autumn of 1855 to the spring of 1869,

circumstances had obliged, and happily permitted, him to earn his

livelihood chiefly by the exercise of his powers as an executive artist;

but his reputation as a composer had grown uninterruptedly throughout

this time, and with the production of the German Requiem it attained a

height that gave him future independence of action. Though years were

still to pass before his circumstances became easy, they were not again

straitened, and from henceforth he undertook concert-journeys only in

the rôle of a composer, to assist at performances of his own works. The

occasions on which he appeared additionally as pianist with one of

Beethoven's or Schumann's great compositions became less and less

frequent, moreover, as, with passing time, he felt increasingly out of

regular practice. Brahms was, in later life, fond of illustrating the

fact of his long struggle with poverty by referring to the manuscript of

the Requiem. 'The paper is of all sizes and shapes, because at the time

I wrote it I never had money enough to buy a stock.' The immediate

impression created by the great work was, however, sufficiently

widespread and profound to place the composer alone, among the

musicians of his day, as the accepted representative of the classical

art of Germany, and the prices commanded by his copyrights gradually

increased accordingly. No long time elapsed before the German Requiem

had made the round of the musical cities of Europe. It was given, for

the first time after final completion and publication, at the Leipzig

Gewandhaus concert of February 18, 1869, under Reinecke, and was

performed in the course of the next few weeks in Basle (twice),

Carlsruhe (twice), Münster, Cologne, Hamburg, Zürich, and Weimar, and,

later in the year, in Dessau (twice), Chemnitz (twice), Barmen (four

choruses only), Magdeburg, Jena, and again twice in Cologne. The

complete work was not heard in Vienna until March 5, 1871, when it was

given by the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde under the composer's

direction, with Frau Wilt and Dr. Krauss as soloists, but achieved no

striking success. It was performed on July 7 of the same year (1871) for

the first time in England, before an invited audience, at the residence

of Sir Henry Thompson. Stockhausen conducted the rehearsals and

performance, and sang the baritone solo, Fräulein Anna Regan the soprano

solo. The chorus was composed of about thirty good musicians, and the

accompaniments were played in their arrangement as a pianoforte duet by

Lady Thompson and the veteran musician Cipriani Potter, then in his

eightieth year. The first public performance in England which the author

has been able to authenticate with precision is that of the Philharmonic

Society in St. James's Hall on April 2, 1873, under the direction of W.

G. Cusins, when the soloists were Mlle. Sophie Ferrari and Santley. The

work was performed for the first time in Berlin, Munich and St.

Petersburg in the spring, and in Utrecht in June, of the year 1872, and

in Paris in 1874.[34]

Probably it was due to the impression created by the German Requiem that

the Serenade in D, Op. 11, was performed for the first time in Berlin in

November, 1869, at one of the concerts of the Symphony Orchestra under

Capellmeister Stern.

'The reception showed that the public is beginning to understand

and value the composer Brahms, one of the few living creative

artists who are genuine and sincere,' wrote a Berlin critic.

In the earlier part of the same year Louis Brassin played the Handel

Variations and Fugue in Munich with very great success. Brassin was one

of the first artists to perform the work in public, and that he

introduced it to a Munich audience is the more interesting since the

musicians of the Bavarian capital had in 1869 shown scant, if any,

recognition of our composer's art, which was too progressive for Franz

Lachner, and too conservative for von Bülow, the successive leaders, up

to that date, of the musical life of the city. The work was played by

Bülow in November, 1872, in Carlsruhe, and from that time was heard at

his concerts with increasing frequency.

[22] Dietrich.

[23] A pedal point is a sound sustained, according to conditions

prescribed by the rules of art, during a succession of varying harmonies

of which it need not form an essential part.

[24] Matt. v. 4; Ps. cxxvi. 5, 6; 1 Pet. i. 24; James v. 7; 1 Pet. i.

25; Isa. xxxv. 10; Ps. xxxix. 4-7; Wisd. iii. 1; Ps. lxxxiv. 1, 2, 4;

John xvi. 22; Ecclus. li. 27; Isa. lxvi. 13; Heb. xiii. 14; 1 Cor. xv

51-55; Rev. iv. 11; Rev. xiv. 13.

[25] The cadences of music are somewhat analogous to the punctuation of

literature. A 'final cadence' has the effect of closing a musical

period.

[26] Dated April 4 in Dietrich's 'Recollections.'

[27] Schumann.

[28] Communicated in a letter to the author by Dr. Deiters.

[29] See Vol. I., p. 207.

[30] _Cf._ Dietrich, p. 54 _et seq_. The dates in the text are given on

the authority of Frau Schumann's diary.

[31] The strict strophic form is that in which voice-melody and

accompaniment are the same in each verse. It admits, however, of several

kinds of modification, as by varied accompaniment, slight variation of

voice-melody, and so forth. The 'durchcomponirtes' Lied, for which there

is no technical English term, is that of which the text is set

throughout to fresh musical thoughts and developments.

[32] Those who wish to study Brahms' treatment of folk-music in detail

are referred to Hohenemser's articles, 'Brahms und die Volksmusik,' in

_Die Musik_, Nos. 15 and 18, 1903.

[33] Dated 1866 in the Thematic Catalogue.

[34] Sir C. Villiers Stanford remembers being present at a public

performance of the German Requiem in London earlier than that of the

Philharmonic Society. This was at a students' concert of the Royal

Academy of Music under John Hullah, the then conductor of the orchestra,

the date of which, however, the author has not succeeded in

ascertaining.

CHAPTER XV

1869-1872

Brahms and Opera--Professor Heinrich Bulthaupt--The

Liebeslieder--First performance--The Rhapsody (Goethe's

'Harzreise') performed privately at Carlsruhe--First public

performance at Jena--Geheimrath Gille--The 'Song of

Triumph'--Performance of first chorus at Bremen--Bernhard

Scholz--The 'Song of Destiny'--First performance--Death of Johann

Jakob Brahms--First performance of completed 'Triumphlied' at

Carlsruhe--Summary of Brahms' work as a composer since 1862.

The theory that found wide acceptance during the lifetime of Brahms, and

was discussed at length in a feuilleton of the _Strassburger Post_

immediately after his death, that he never had and never could have

seriously entertained the idea of composing for the stage, was long ago

conclusively refuted by Widmann in his 'Recollections.' He shows that

the master's wishes pointed at more than one period of his career in the

direction of dramatic composition, and that he was prevented from

following them by the same difficulty which proved insoluble to

Mendelssohn--that of finding a libretto to suit his fancy.

'He was always particularly animated when speaking of matters

connected with the theatre, as for instance when he once very

decidedly demonstrated to me the vaudeville character of the first

act of "Fidelio," which generally passes for a very good text-book.

He possessed a genuine dramatic perception, and it gave him real

pleasure to analyze the merits and defects of a dramatic

subject.'[35]

The interest of this passage is enhanced by a few words that occur in an

article on Brahms by Richard Heuberger:[36]

'We sat together the whole evening and I remember that Brahms spoke

in detail of Mozart's "Figaro" and laid stress on the unparalleled

manner in which Mozart has overcome the enormous difficulties of

his text; "Mozart has composed it, not as a mere ordinary

text-book, but as a complete, well-organized comedy."'

It would certainly have been matter for surprise if Brahms, who was

peculiarly sensitive to the influence of really poetic dramatic effect,

and whose interest in the drama furnished him with a source of frequent

pleasure that did not diminish as he grew older--he rarely missed a

première at the Vienna Burg Theater--had passed through life without

feeling the inclination to test his powers as a composer for the stage,

and this is very far indeed from being the case. Widmann's account of

what took place between himself and Brahms on the subject of opera

belongs to the late seventies, and we shall revert to it in its place;

it points back, however, to an earlier time, which proves, as we might

expect, to be that of the composer's intimacy with Devrient and Levi,

with whose varied professional activity he manifested the warmest

sympathy, and especially to the year 1869, when the publication of the

German Requiem had left his mind at leisure for new important effort.

Perhaps we may perceive the direction in which his wishes were moving in

the fact that 'Rinaldo,' which contains the nearest approach to dramatic

composition to be found in the catalogue of Brahms' works, was completed

almost simultaneously with the Requiem; and it is possible that an

indication of the obstacle that was to prove insuperable to their

fulfilment may be read in Billroth's words quoted in the last chapter:

'Brahms is enthusiastic about [the text of] Rinaldo because it leaves so

much to the composer.' However this may be, it is certain that he was

strongly possessed at this period and on into the early seventies with

the desire to compose an opera, and that he not only opened his mind

unreservedly on the subject to his friends at Carlsruhe, but made

repeated efforts in other directions to procure a libretto adapted to

his views. Allgeyer furnished him with a completed text-book on

Calderon's 'The Open Secret.' Through Claus Groth he obtained an unused

text written for Mendelssohn by the poet Geibel, founded on the episode

of Nausikaa in the 'Odyssey,'[37] and amongst others with whom he

discussed the subject were Tourgenieff at Baden-Baden, who provided him

with sketches, and, Heinrich Bulthaupt, then a rising young dramatic

author and an intimate friend of Reinthaler's.

To Bulthaupt he proposed as a subject Schiller's fragment of a play

'Demetrius,' which he esteemed very highly, and, in a long conversation

with this gentleman at his house in Bremen, he explained with precision

his ideas as to the desirable treatment even of the minutiæ of dramatic

action, taking as the theme of his exposition the libretto, written by

Bulthaupt, of Reinthaler's opera 'Kätchen von Heilbronn.' Some of the

peculiarities of his views which created for him unnecessary

difficulties must be attributed to his inveterately logical habit of

mind, which made it repugnant to him to take certain things for granted

for the sake of stage exigencies. He went too far in a desire that the

minor details of the drama should be visibly developed. Pointing to a

scene in 'Kätchen von Heilbronn,' in the course of which three soldiers

go into a drinking cellar, not to reappear, he inquired: 'What becomes

of them?' 'It is assumed that they go away,' replied Bulthaupt; 'do you

mean to say that you wish actually to see them come out again on to the

stage?' 'I should like to do so,' Brahms answered. A moment's reflection

would, of course, have shown him that the scene in question was, in

fact, realistic, since the soldiers might in actual life have left the

cellar by a back-door, unseen by those who observed them enter through

the front one. The anecdote is, however, illustrative of a mental habit

which must have confronted Brahms with countless difficulties so long as

he merely contemplated the composition of an opera. The work of

composing one, had he ever settled down to it, might probably have

solved many of them.

The idea of 'Demetrius' fell through. Bulthaupt suggested to Brahms a

consideration which, in no way applicable to Schiller's piece, seemed to

him of importance in view of its adaptation as an opera. He thought that

the necessity of introducing some amount of Russian colouring into the

music of a drama having for its subject an episode of Russian history,

not only might prove irksome to a composer so strongly imbued as Brahms

with the sentiment of German nationality, but would be prejudicial to

the tragic breadth of Schiller's play as it stands. Brahms, on thinking

over the matter, probably felt the weight of his friend's remarks, for

he did not return to his proposal.

Points of interest in the composer's suggestion of Schiller's

'Demetrius' for the subject of a tragic opera are that ambition and not

love is the mainspring of its action, and that the feminine interest of

the piece is centred neither in maiden nor wife, but in Marfa, the

mother of Demetrius, in whom are exhibited powerful emotions arising

from unerring maternal instinct and baffled affection. It recalls the

period, moreover, when Brahms and Joachim shared each other's daily

thoughts on all subjects. Joachim composed an overture to Hermann

Grimm's play of 'Demetrius' in 1854, and, about the middle of the

seventies, the well-known 'Marfa' scena for contralto and orchestra from

Schiller's fragment. A similar association is presented in Brahms'

favourite suggestion for the text-book of a serio-comic opera or

operetta, of Gozzi's 'König Hirsch,' the work with which Joachim's

'Overture to a Play of Gozzi's' is to be connected. Arrangements by

Brahms of both these compositions of his friend, as pianoforte duets,

were found in his rooms after his death, and were published with the

very few manuscripts that he allowed to survive him.

Brahms travelled to Carlsruhe in March in order to conduct the

repetition performance of the German Requiem, but except for this

journey spent the early part of the year 1869 quietly in Vienna. The

advance of spring induced him to pay some visits in the north, after

which he proceeded to Lichtenthal. The event of the season in Frau

Schumann's private circle was the marriage of her third daughter Julie

to the Conte Radicati di Marmorito. The legend of an attachment between

Brahms and this lady has obtained sufficiently wide credence to demand

mention in our pages. It is, perhaps, not unnatural that the composer's

dedication to Fräulein Julie Schumann of his Variations for two

pianofortes on her father's theme, published in 1863, should have led a

few enthusiasts to draw their own romantic conclusions, and that such

conclusions should have spread; the less so since Fräulein Julie was

possessed of a graceful charm that made her interesting to all who were

brought into near contact with her. Brahms was not an exception from

others in his power of appreciating her attraction, but his admiration

of his old friend's daughter at no time advanced into special intimacy.

'I have spent the summer at Baden, and am going to remain for Julie

Schumann's wedding,' he writes to Dietrich. Brahms, Levi, and Allgeyer

together presented the bride with an _objet d'art_, a bronze plate, and

are represented contemplating it in a group in a photograph of the time.

The Contessa Radicati di Marmorito was taken by death from her husband

and children after a few years of happiness.

The completed musical fruits of Brahms' year were the Liebeslieder

Walzer and the Rhapsody for contralto solo, men's chorus and orchestra.

The 'Liebeslieder,' waltzes for pianoforte duet and _ad libitum_ vocal

quartet, composed to a number of verses from Daumer's 'Polydora,'

translations or imitations of Russian and Polish folk-songs, are amongst

the most popular of the composer's works, and are too familiar to need

detailed comment. They show Brahms in his perfection of dainty grace and

fresh, playful imagination, a mood in which he stands unrivalled. They

were performed for the first time in public at the subscription concert

of the Carlsruhe court orchestra of October 6. Frau Schumann, who played

Beethoven's G major Concerto on the same occasion, and Levi, were the

pianists, and Fräulein Hausmann, Frau Hauser, Herr Kürner, and Herr

Brouillet, the singers. Published shortly afterwards by Simrock, they

were heard in Vienna before the close of the year at the first

Singakademie concert of the season; and were performed at Frau

Schumann's concert in Vienna of January 5, 1870, by the concert-giver

and composer and the singers Frau Dustmann, Fräulein Girzik, Herr Gustav

Walter, and Dr. Krauss.

The Rhapsody was first heard privately at the rehearsal of the Carlsruhe

concert of October 6, Levi having arranged a performance for the benefit

of Frau Schumann and of Brahms himself. The solo was sung by Frau Boni.

The composer, writing to Deiters in September, says:

'... I should like to make a request to-day. I remember to have

seen at your house a volume of songs by Reichhardt (possibly

Zelter) which contained a stanza from Goethe's Harzreise. Could you

lend me the volume for a little while?

'I need hardly add that I have just composed it and should like to

see the work of my forerunner. I call my piece "Rhapsody," but

believe I am indebted also for the title to my respected

predecessor.

'I shall hear it in a few days, and should I then decide not to

print or perform the somewhat intimate music, I shall nevertheless

show it to you.'[38]

It seems probable, from the circumstances of the first public

performance of the Rhapsody, that Madame Viardot-Garcia was amongst the

small audience on this private occasion. The work was given on March 3,

1870, soon after its publication, at the Academic Concerts, Jena, under

the direction of the society's conductor, Dr. Ernst Naumann, when Madame

Viardot sang the solo; 'Rinaldo,' with Dr. Wiedemann as tenor, being

included in the programme.

Madame Viardot-Garcia, staying early in 1870 with Liszt, who had

returned to Weimar in 1869 after an absence of many years, met at his

house his devoted friend Geheimrath Gille, a distinguished musical

amateur, who occupied an official post at Jena and employed the greater

part of his leisure in the interest of the musical culture of the little

university town. Gille had in his youth known Goethe and Hummel, and

been on terms of close friendship with Henselt. His intimacy with Liszt

dated from the commencement of the great man's residence in Weimar, and

he soon became a warm supporter of the New-German party, received Wagner

into his house at Jena on his flight from Dresden to Liszt at Weimar,

and saw him safely over the German border. His sympathy with the new

tendencies did not render him insensible to the value of less

revolutionary developments of art. He had great interest and respect to

spare for Brahms' music, and encouraged its cultivation by Brendel's

society (Allgemeiner Deutscher Musikverein), on the committee of which

he was very active.[39] There can be little doubt that the performance

of the Rhapsody at Jena in March was the outcome of a friendly chat

between Madame Viardot and himself and of their mutual sympathetic

admiration of Brahms' art, which was shared by Dr. Ernst Naumann, an old

personal acquaintance of the composer. Since the performance of the

German Requiem in 1869 already chronicled, up to the present day,

Brahms' music has been well represented in the programmes of the Jena

societies under Naumann's direction.

The Rhapsody was given on March 19 under Grimm at Münster, and a little

later at Capellmeister Hegar's benefit concert at Zürich. It became a

favourite work with Frau Joachim, who sang the solo times innumerable

with extraordinary power and sympathy and invariable success.

Brahms' Rhapsody, Op. 53, is composed to a fragment--set also by J. F.

Reichhardt (1752-1814)--from Goethe's 'Harzreise im Winter,' which has

for its subject the poet's reflections on a visit paid by him to a young

hypochondriac whose melancholy had, as he feared, been confirmed by the

influence of his own 'Werther's Sorrows.' Goethe's efforts to raise the

youth from his state of mental depression had no immediate visible

result, though he ultimately recovered from his malady, and the three

verses selected from the poem for musical composition conclude with a

prayer to the Father of love on his behalf. Such a text was eminently

suited for musical expression by a composer who, intensely realizing the

problems of life, shaped his course by faith in the power of love; and

the Rhapsody furnishes another striking illustration of the strength of

imagination which enabled Brahms so to absorb himself in his text as to

be able to present it in musical sound--to capable listeners--with a

strength and reality usually associated only with impressions of sight.

Let anyone who is familiar with the composition read through Goethe's

poem from beginning to end, and note the accession of force with which

the verses set to music by Brahms come home to him. He will be reminded

of an object illuminated by sunlight that stands near others placed in

shadow.

The first of the three sections of the single movement that constitutes

the Rhapsody, an impressive orchestral picture upon which the

independent recitative of the solo voice enters, may be accepted as the

reflection of the poet's intense realization of the unhappy youth's

condition. Its tones convey a penetrating impression of rich warmth and

pity lying behind the deepest gloom. The feeling of the second section

is no less concentrated, though it is expressed with more calm:

'Ah! how comfort his sorrows

Who in balsam found poison?

Who from the fulness of love

Hath drunk but the hate of men?

Once despised, now a despiser,

Secretly he consumeth

All his own best worth

In fruitless self-seeking.'

The noble declamatory passages of the voice are supported by an

accompaniment that becomes agitated or intensely still in accord with

the course of the poet's self-questionings, which reach their only

possible and beautiful resolution in the third section:

'If thy Psalt'ry containeth,

Father of love, one tone

That can reach his ear,

Oh, refresh his heart!

Open his obscurèd sight

To the thousand sources

Near to the thirsty one

In the desert.'

Here, by a fine inspiration, the chorus of men's voices enters for the

first time _pianissimo_, supporting the solo voice in fervent

supplication.

Words and music are fitly associated throughout the movement, which is a

treasure amongst works of art, and it is impossible to say that either

of its parts is superior to the others, though the divine outpouring of

love and pity in the last section often seems to appeal, especially, to

the hearer listening for the first time to the composition. This,

however, is really due to its position, which contains and brings to an

issue the effect of what precedes it. The work has long since been

generally recognised as one of the finest of Brahms' shorter

compositions, and continues to be more in demand every year, though it

had no great immediate success.

'I send you my Rhapsody,' Brahms wrote to Dietrich in February,

1870, a week or two after its publication; 'the music-directors are

not exactly enthusiastic about the opus, but it may, perhaps, be a

satisfaction to you that I do not always go in frivolous 3/4 time!'

It sprang from the composer's very soul.

'He once told me he loved it so,' says Dietrich, 'that he placed it

under his pillow at night in order to have it near him.'

The Studies without opus number, Nos. 1 and 2, after Chopin and Weber,

were published in 1869 by Senff; and the first two books of Hungarian

Dances by Simrock, in the duet form for Pianoforte in which they

obtained enormous popularity. It was not until 1872 that they were

issued in the arrangement as solos, in which, as we know, they had

formed part of Brahms' répertoire during some years of his virtuoso

career.[40] Dunkl, a publisher of Budapest, used to relate in

after-years that Brahms, on the occasion of one of his early appearances

in that city, called on him and offered a selection of six of the Dances

for an absurdly small sum. Dunkl said he would give his answer after

hearing them in the evening. They had no success and the publisher

refused them, a proceeding which he afterwards found considerable reason

to regret.

The stirring events of the year 1870, the series of triumphs won by

German arms, and the federation of the various independent States under

the headship of Prussia which was to lead to the extraordinary

development of German political power and industrial progress that has

been witnessed by the present generation, were followed by our composer

with a mixture of ardent emotions, in which that of swelling patriotic

pride gained the predominance as each day brought news of fresh

victories won by the soldiers of the Fatherland. His vehement exultation

at the results of the war found embodiment in a great 'Song of Triumph'

for chorus and orchestra, with which he was occupied in 1871, and the

first chorus, completed early in the year, and sent at once to

Reinthaler, was performed from the manuscript in Bremen Cathedral on

Good Friday, April 7, under the composer's direction, at a concert given

by the Singakademie in memory of those who had fallen in the war.[41]

There is no need to dilate on the feelings which dominated Brahms during

the writing of this extraordinary work. They blaze out of it with an

intensity and an endurance of passion that well fit it to occupy its own

peculiar place amongst the great events that startled Europe at the

opening of the seventies. It commemorates heroic deeds in truly heroic

strains. By his choice of a text the composer at once raised the scope

of his work to a level above that of an ordinary _Te Deum_ for victory

in war; and the words selected by him from Revelation xix., which admit,

throughout each portion of the composition, of an application to the

overpowering occurrences of the time, were precisely those for whose

setting he alone of modern composers--we may even say of all composers

who have succeeded the two giants of the eighteenth century--was, by his

temperament, genius, and attainments, pre-eminently fitted.

The Triumphlied consists of three great movements for double chorus and

orchestra, the third of which contains a few passages for baritone solo.

'_Alleluia; salvation and glory and honour and power unto the Lord our

God: For true and righteous are his judgments._'

The solemnly jubilant orchestral prelude, the entry of the full double

chorus with loud and sustained Alleluias, lead to the principal theme of

the first movement, already suggested in the prelude, and

derived--though this is hardly appreciable by the unpractised ear of a

general audience--from the Prussian national air, which is identical

with England's 'God save the King.' This theme or some portion of it

almost invariably accompanies the phrase, '_Salvation, honour_, etc.,

_unto the Lord_,' which, with its surrounding Alleluias, forms the text

of the first portion of the movement, constructed entirely from diatonic

harmonies. The words '_For righteous and true are his judgments_' are

set to the broad themes of the middle portion, to which some heightened

effect is imparted by very sparing use of the more familiar chromatic

chords. The third section is a varied repetition of the first with a

coda. The movement is sustained at the white heat of jubilation until

the beginning of the close, when a few tranquil bars, in the course of

which the voices die away to rest, and the instruments are subdued to a

_pianissimo_ that becomes ever softer, prepare for the glorious outburst

with which the chorus terminates. The second movement has three varying

sections:

'_Praise our God, all ye his servants, and ye that fear him, great and

small._

'_Alleluia, for the Almighty God hath entered into his kingdom._

'_Let us be glad and rejoice and give honour to him._'

The first section opens with pure melodious beauty and lofty serenity,

and displays in its course numerous points of imitation, direct and by

inversion, which are easily discoverable by the student. It is succeeded

by a blast of trumpets, an outburst of Alleluias, and the announcement

of the Lord's reign by the voices of the two choirs which enter

successively on a sounding tonic pedal; the basses imitating the basses,

then the tenors the tenors, and so on, at half a bar's distance. This

proclamation section is appropriately concise and of superb grandeur. We

hear in it 'as it were the voice of a multitude, and as the voice of

many waters, and as the voice of mighty thunderings'; whilst the third

section, partly woven, by various kinds of imitation, from the phrases

of 'Nun danket Alle Gott,' which is sounded prominently by the flutes

and trumpets, is animated by a singularly naïve spirit of light-hearted

happiness and rejoicing.

'_And I saw heaven opened, and behold a white horse: and he that sat

upon him was called Faithful and True, and in righteousness he doth

judge and make war._

'_And he treadeth, the winepress of the fierceness and wrath of Almighty

God._

'_And he hath on his vesture and on his thigh a name called a King of

Kings and a Lord of Lords. Alleluia. Amen._'

Subdued awe; firm, proud confidence in a mighty, beneficent ruler; a

flash of fierce remembrance of injury--all are rendered with a power, a

vividness, a picturesque strength, that are not transcended, even if

they are equalled, by anything ever composed in the domain of choral

music for the church or the concert-room; and the greatness and glory of

'a King of Kings and a Lord of Lords' are celebrated in the long final

portion of this gorgeous third movement with dazzling brilliancy of

effect, sustained and augmented up to the very end.

The first chorus, performed before the audience of two thousand people

assembled in Bremen Cathedral on the evening of Good Friday, 1871,

reached its effect to a very considerable extent.

'It has a broad and, as it were, popular character, is conceived

simply and wrought with sincerity,' writes the correspondent of the

_Allgemeine Deutsche Musikzeitung_.'

The _Bremen Courier_ says:

'One again recognises the titanic capacity of the composer. The

work is a vocal joy-symphony, of imposing power and exalted

feeling. Praise is due to all concerned in the performance for they

have facilitated the understanding of the composer to a large

portion of the audience.'

The Dietrichs came from Oldenburg to hear the new work. Circumstances

prevented the attendance of Frau Schumann and Joachim. Neither artist

had returned from what had at this period become an annual visit of each

to England, which, in Frau Schumann's case, generally extended over at

least two months, and in Joachim's occupied the six weeks of Lent.

Pending Frau Schumann's return, Brahms remained among his friends in the

north, and played his D minor Concerto at the Bremen orchestral

subscription concert of April 25 with great success, giving pieces by

Bach, Scarlatti, and Schumann in the second part. Frau Schumann was back

in Lichtenthal early in May, and Brahms settled into his usual lodgings

there a few days before her arrival. The present writer had the

happiness of immediately following her, and the reader interested to

learn particulars of the summer life of quiet work and simple pleasures

that followed is referred to the Recollections placed at the beginning

of our first volume. The details there given are too slight and too

personal to be appropriate in the body of the present narrative, though

they may be found to have a value of their own for those interested in

whatever throws additional light on the true, lovable nature of Brahms.

It was about this time that our composer's art began to make perceptible

progress in London. No immediate result was perceptible from the

performance of the B flat Sextet led by Joachim at a Monday Popular

concert of 1867, but from the beginning of the seventies we find Brahms'

name appearing with some regularity in London programmes. No opportunity

was lost by Frau Schumann, Joachim, or Stockhausen for making propaganda

for their friend's music in private artistic circles. The performance of

the Requiem at Sir Henry Thompson's house in the summer of 1871, under

Stockhausen, has already been noted. Of minor incidents of the time in

this connection, the singing of two duets from Op. 28 by Madame

Viardot-Garcia and Stockhausen at a party given by the lady in London on

June 10 may be selected for mention.[42]

In the same year the call of Bernhard Scholz to Breslau added another to

the list of towns, now to increase rapidly, year by year, in which

Brahms' art came to be cultivated with particular vigour. Scholz, who

had held successive appointments in Hanover and Berlin, had been on

terms of familiar acquaintance with the composer from an early period of

both their careers. He now found himself in a position, as conductor of

the Breslau orchestral subscription concerts, freely to gratify his

admiration of the master's art. From this time not only were Brahms' new

orchestral works given, with few exceptions as they appeared, at the

Breslau subscription concerts, but any existing deficiencies in the

Brahms education of the musical public were supplied by performances of

the two Serenades and the Pianoforte Concerto. The composer himself

played the last-named work at Breslau in 1874 and 1876, when the

orchestra was of course conducted by Scholz. No less attention was

devoted to the chamber music. At the concerts of the resident string

quartet-party arranged by Concertmeister Richard Himmelstoss, at which

Scholz or Julius Buths often assisted as pianist, the two Sextets, the

Quartets and Quintet, and later works in their turn, were frequently

heard, and to the successful results of these efforts, to the warm

response they elicited from the musical circles of Breslau, we owe the

composition of a genial and now favourite work of our master, the

Academic Festival Overture, the appearance of which will be noted in its

place.

Amongst the friends who visited Lichtenthal during the summer of 1871

were Allgeyer, Levi, and Stockhausen, and on September 8 the 'Song of

Destiny,' completed in May, was rehearsed at Carlsruhe.

'Hyperion's Schicksalslied,' by Friedrich Hölderlin (1770-1834), sets

forth the serene, passionless, unchanging existence of the celestials,

surrounded by the clear light of eternity; and its contrast, the

ever-shifting, suffering life of humanity, wrapped in the darkness of

inscrutable mystery. The poem is entirely fatalistic, containing no

comment on what it depicts.

'Ye wander above in light

On tender soil, blessed immortals!

Glistening divine breezes

Touch you gently,

As the fingers of the artist

Sacred strings.

'Calm as the sleeping child

Breathe the celestials;

Chastely guarded

In modest bud,

Their spirits bloom eternally,

And their blissful eyes

Gaze in quiet, eternal stillness.

'But to us it is given

On no spot to rest;

Suffering men

Vanish, blindly fall

From hour to hour,

As water thrown

From rock to rock,

Year-long down into uncertainty.'

In Brahms' setting we have yet another fine choral work, characteristic

from every point of view, musical, æsthetic, and psychological--one,

moreover, which is of quite peculiar interest and value, since it

contains an express confession of that creed of love to which the

present writer has several times referred as being traceable throughout

the composer's life and works. The contrasted pictures of celestial and

human existence are set with the vivid force which we have noticed in

our brief studies of preceding works, the pathos and tragedy surrounding

the lot of mankind being treated with the deep, passionate feeling which

is invariably displayed by the composer when he is occupied with this or

kindred subjects. Brahms' 'Song of Destiny' does not, however, terminate

with Hölderlin's, nor could it have done so. Another passion lived

stronger within him than that with which he contemplated the phenomena

of human suffering, uncertainty, and death; and he has known how to

supplement his text with a short, but most exquisitely conceived,

orchestral postlude, which, whilst it rounds the work musically into a

whole, brings to the despairing soul a message of consolation, hope,

faith, courage, such as it is within the peculiar province of music to

convey, and which has the more power over the heart since it cannot be

translated into articulate words.

That Brahms actually had some such intention in adding the postlude is

in the personal knowledge of the present writer. He regarded it as not

merely accessory, but as being, in a sense, the most important part of

his composition. In rehearsing the work, it was over this portion that

he lingered with peculiar care; and when conducting its performance he

obtained from the postlude some of his rarest and most exquisite effects

of ethereal tenderness.

The work was performed for the first time from the manuscript on October

18, 1871, under the composer's direction, at a concert of the Carlsruhe

Philharmonic Society. The overture and garden-scene from Schumann's

'Faust' headed, and the conclusion of the second part--both under Levi's

direction--closed the programme, which further included two of

Schubert's songs. Fräulein Johanna Schwarz and Stockhausen were the

soloists of the occasion.

The impression made by the new work upon the audience of Carlsruhe was

profound, and the composer returned to Vienna gratified and pleased by

an immediate success which the experiences of his career had by no means

led him to regard as a foregone conclusion.

The Schicksalslied was published by Simrock in December, and was

performed early in 1872 in Bremen, Breslau, Frankfurt, and Vienna.

The only other original publications of 1871, the two books of Songs,

Op. 57 and 58, were issued by Rieter-Biedermann.[43] All the texts of

Op. 57 are original poems or imitations (Nos. 2, 3, 7) by G. F. Daumer,

whose texts are amongst the most passionate of those set by Brahms. The

composer seems to have imagined a portrait of the poet more or less in

correspondence with his verses, and Claus Groth tells an amusing story

of the shock sustained by Brahms on taking the opportunity of a visit to

Munich to call on Daumer.

'I loaded myself with all the books of my songs that contain

something of his. I found him at last, in an out-of-the-way house,

in an out-of-the-way street, and was shown to equally retired

apartments. There in a quiet room I found my poet. Ah, he was a

little dried-up old man! After my sincerely respectful address, on

presenting my music, the old gentleman replied with an embarrassed

word of thanks and I soon perceived that he knew nothing either of

me or my compositions, or anything at all of music. And when I

pointed to his ardent, passionate verses, he signed me, with a

tender wave of the hand, to a little old mother almost more

withered than himself, saying, "Ah, I have only loved the one, my

wife!"'

The opening of the year 1872 marks the beginning of a new period, not in

the artistic, but in the private life of Brahms. It found him installed

in the historic rooms in the third story of No. 4, Carlsgasse, Vienna,

which were to remain to the end of his life the nearest approach to an

establishment of his own to which he committed himself. He had lodged in

Novaragasse, Singerstrasse, Poststrasse 6, Wohlzeile 23, Ungargasse 2,

had stayed with his friends the Fabers--had, in fact, since his first

visit to Vienna, changed his residence at least with each new season.

When he took possession of his rooms in Carlsgasse 4 on December 27,

1871, he had moved for the last time. Here he lived for a little more

than a quarter of a century, here he died. He continued as he began, a

lodger in furnished apartments, renting his Carlsgasse rooms in the

first instance from a Frau Vogel, who, with her husband and family,

occupied the rest of the dwelling. Brahms' accommodation consisted of

three small rooms communicating one with the other. The middle and

largest contained his grand piano and writing-table, a small

square-shaped instrument to which a tradition was attached, and a table

and chairs arranged, German fashion, in front of a sofa. Here he

received his visitors. In a smaller room were his bookshelves and a high

desk for standing to write. There were cupboards for his music, which in

time overflowed into the rooms as he required more space for his

collections of original manuscripts, engravings, photographs, etc. A few

engravings adorned the walls, and his little bust of Beethoven reminded

him pleasantly of the old home in the Fuhlentwiethe. Frau Vogel was

responsible only for his mending, for the cleaning and dusting of his

rooms, and for opening the house-door to visitors. He took his early

dinner at a restaurant--the 'Kronprinz,' the 'Goldspinnerin,' the 'Zur

schönen Laterne,' and, for about the last fourteen years of his life,

at the 'Zum rothen Igel,' in the Wildpret Markt--and read the newspapers

afterwards over a cup of black coffee at one of the coffee-houses, in

his latter years generally the Café Stadtpark. He supped either at home,

with a book for company--when his fare usually consisted of

bread-and-butter and sausage, with a glass of beer or light wine--or

again at a restaurant, when, as at dinner, he liked to be joined by his

intimates. Needless to say, the private hospitality of friends was

abundantly at his command whenever he chose to avail himself of it.

The second performance of the Song of Destiny--the first since

publication--took place at the Gesellschaft concert of January 21, under

the direction of Anton Rubinstein, who held the post of 'artistic

director' of the society during the season 1870-71, succeeding Herbeck

on his appointment as capellmeister of the imperial opera.

The gratification which must have been felt by the composer at the

exceptional impression created by his work on his Austrian public was to

be clouded a few days later by news of his father's grave illness. Jakob

had been ailing for a year past, and had been obliged to resign his post

at the Philharmonic, together with smaller engagements, and accustom

himself to the sight of his beloved double-bass standing mute in a

corner of his parlour. Johannes, perceiving that advancing years were

beginning to tell on his father, had prescribed a change of residence

from the fourth story of 1, Anscharplatz to a first-floor flat in the

same street, but the failure of strength had not been recognised as

serious. Jakob did not complain of any particular symptoms, and it was

only on the occasion of his fetching the doctor to his stepson Fritz

Schnack, who had been brought home ill from St. Petersburg, that he

bethought himself to ask advice on his own account, when his alarming

condition became immediately apparent to the physician. Johannes, who

was immediately sent for, was on the spot without delay, and spent the

next fortnight at the bedside of the stricken man, whom he watched with

tenderest care and tried to cheer with loving encouragement. But the end

was near. Jakob was in the grip of a fatal malady which had ravaged his

constitution continuously during the past twelve months, though his

sufferings were neither acute nor prolonged. He died on February 11, in

his sixty-sixth year, from cancer of the liver, in the presence of his

wife and two sons, and an estrangement of some duration between Johannes

and the less energetic Fritz--returned from two years' absence in

Venezuela--was healed at his death-bed. The son's grief, as may be

expected from all that we have related of his clinging family affection,

was profound. His consolation was found in endeavours for the protection

and comfort of the woman who had brought contentment to the closing

years of Jakob's life, and he stayed on with Frau Caroline after the

funeral, helping her to make necessary arrangements and to look through

his father's little possessions. The old indentures of apprenticeship,

the document of citizenship, memorials of Jakob's early struggles and

modest personal successes, passed into the composer's keeping. A small

portrait in oils, of little value as a picture, but bearing evidence of

having been a good likeness of Jakob in his early manhood, was left with

the widow. 'Mother,' said Johannes excitedly the day before his

departure from Hamburg, turning suddenly to Frau Caroline after standing

for some minutes in silence before the painting, 'as long as you live,

this of course is yours, but promise that at your death it shall come to

me in Vienna!' The promise, readily given, was destined to remain

unfulfilled. Frau Caroline, her stepson's senior by more than six years,

was to outlive him.

Brahms' care for his father's widow did not cease with his return to his

occupations in Vienna. When Fritz Schnack was convalescent, and the year

sufficiently advanced for change of air to be desirable, he was sent

with his mother to Pinneberg, a pleasant country town of Holstein in

great repute with the citizens of Hamburg on account of its

health-giving climate. The visit proved so beneficial that Johannes

decided to settle his stepbrother there permanently to carry on the

business of a watch and clock maker, which he had hitherto followed in

St. Petersburg. He established him in a pleasant shop, providing him

with all the requisites for a new start, and wished to guarantee a

comfortable home for Frau Caroline as mistress of her son's modest

household; but the bright, energetic widow did not like the idea of

relinquishing her own activity. It was settled, therefore, that she

should return to Hamburg and to her business of taking boarders in the

first-floor flat in the Anscharplatz, on the condition, rigorously

extorted by Johannes, that she was to draw upon him in all cases of need

for herself or her son. Brahms was wont to complain to his stepmother in

after-years that she did not sufficiently fulfil her part of the

bargain, to scold her because she did not ask for money, and to propose

and insist on holiday journeys for herself and Fritz; and from the day

of his father's death to that of his own the kind, capable housewife

continued to be the representative to the great tone-poet of the simple,

restful tie of family affection to which he clung from beginning to end

of his career.

Elise Brahms was supported by her brother until her marriage, some time

later than our present date, with a watchmaker named Grund, a widower

with a family, and was the recipient of his generosity until her death

in 1892. Fritz, 'the wrong Brahms,' as he was sometimes called, by way

of distinguishing him from Johannes, gained a good position in Hamburg

as a private teacher of the pianoforte, and was for some years on the

staff of visiting teachers at Fräulein Homann's ladies' school at

Hamm--an establishment which enjoyed distinguished English as well as

German patronage. He had only so far followed in his brother's footsteps

as to have been the pupil successively of Cossel and Marxsen, and to

have made a few public appearances in Hamburg as pianist in his own Trio

concerts. His talents might have carried him farther if he had been more

active and ambitious. 'Is this your pianoforte-teacher's pace?' demanded

Johannes sharply on one of his visits to Hamburg, as he was striding

along the street in front of his brother, who could not or would not

keep up with him. Fritz was a favourite with his friends; he possessed

his share of the family humour, and was never known to brag. 'How is

your great brother?' an acquaintance asked him one day. 'What do you

mean?' retorted Fritz, who was tall and thin; 'I am bigger than he is!'

He died unmarried in Hamburg in 1886, at the age of fifty-one.

Preliminary arrangements were made in good time for the performance of

the completed Triumphlied at the Rhine Festival of 1872, held in

Düsseldorf; but as the date drew near the committee strangely refused to

invite the composer to conduct his work, and Brahms therefore withheld

the manuscript. It was performed for the first time on June 5 at a

farewell concert arranged by the Grand-Ducal Orchestra and the

Philharmonic Society of Carlsruhe jointly, for their departing conductor

Hermann Levi, who had been called to the post of court capellmeister at

Munich, which he held with brilliant success until failing health

compelled his retirement in 1896. Both Frau Schumann and Stockhausen

contributed to the programme of the concert, Stockhausen, as a matter of

course, singing the short solo of the Triumphlied. The performance seems

to have been a fine one, though the chorus at command only numbered 150

members. An enthusiastic account of the work sent from Carlsruhe to the

_Allgemeine Musikzeitung_ by Franz Gehring concludes:

'We Germans may feel proud that such an artist has been inspired by

the impression of the most momentous events to which our history

can point, to the composition of such a triumph-song. To the year

1870 attaches, not only the renown of our arms, but a new epoch of

our musical art.... It is based upon the modern development of long

familiar forms and modes of expression. That this development has

shown itself to be true and healthy (who had not foreseen it in

Brahms' German Requiem!) is the merit of the German master Brahms,

the greatest of the present day!'

Comparatively few musicians will be found in these days to deny that

Gehring's words were justified by the development of Brahms' own career,

though it cannot be concealed that a new epoch such as that to which the

reviewer looked forward seems to have closed for the present with the

master's death.

Contrary to Brahms' established custom, he accepted a concert-engagement

in the course of the summer, and appeared with immense success at the

Baden-Baden Kursaal subscription concert of August 29 as composer,

conductor, and pianist, with his own A major Serenade and Schumann's

Pianoforte Concerto. Amongst the visitors to Lichtenthal in the course

of the season was Reinthaler, who had been present at the performance of

the Triumphlied at Carlsruhe, and returned later to spend a short

holiday near his friends.

With the beginning of autumn, 1872, a period of ten years had elapsed

since Brahms' first visit to Vienna, and it will help the reader to

obtain a clear view of the development of his career as a composer if we

pause for a moment at this point, to consider what had been its special

features during the decade in the course of which he had gradually come

to regard Vienna as his home. We shall find that it had been entirely

logical and continuous, and singularly independent of those influences

of his changed environment to which imaginary effects on his art and

temperament have not seldom been attributed.

We observe, in the first place, that only one solo has been added to the

long list of important works for the pianoforte, accompanied and

unaccompanied, which Brahms carried with him to Vienna in 1862, and of

this one it must be said that the Paganini studies in two books,

immensely brilliant and ingenious though they be, cannot be seriously

regarded from the musical standpoint of the Handel or other preceding

sets of variations, but must be accepted more or less as diversions of

the composer's leisure hours. Several of the variations are little more

than transcriptions for the piano of some of those written by Paganini

on the same theme for the violin.

In the domain of chamber music, where, so far as it is yet possible to

anticipate the verdict of posterity, Brahms' place will be found amongst

the greatest composers of all periods, we find that his first series of

masterpieces for pianoforte and strings has been brought to a close

with the addition of two works--the Horn Trio performed in the autumn of

1865, and the Sonata in E minor for pianoforte and violoncello, whilst

by the side of the String Sextet in B flat has been placed another in G

major, not indeed transcending, but different from, and in every way

worthy of, its companion. With the enumeration of these published works

must be associated the mention of two others of peculiar interest in our

survey because they mark a fresh stage of Brahms' matured development.

The two String Quartets in C minor and A minor were kept in the

composer's desk for some years before they were finally completed. The

significance of their appearance, which we shall have to note in 1873,

as landmarks in Brahms' career, is best illustrated by the remembrance

that twenty years had elapsed since the fastidious self-criticism of the

young musician of twenty had caused the withdrawal of a string quartet

from the list of works proposed by Schumann for the consideration of the

publishers.

Brahms' fertility as a song-writer for a single voice was constant,

though it matured and varied in its manifestations with the onward

progress of his life. We have already referred to some of the phases of

its long middle period. The decade we are considering witnessed the

publication of eight books of miscellaneous songs and three books of the

Magelone Romances.

In the Liebeslieder, waltzes for pianoforte duet and vocal quartet, we

have the riper artistic fruition of the mood which produced the vocal

quartets, Op. 31, 'Alternative Dance Song,' 'Raillery,' and 'The Walk to

the Beloved,' composed at Detmold; and to the same early period the

Waltzes for pianoforte duet dedicated to Hanslick primarily belong.

The splendid achievement, however, which pre-eminently distinguishes

this portion of Brahms' career is to be found in another domain: that in

which we may now, in 1872, contemplate the literal fulfilment of

Schumann's much discussed prophecy; that in which 'the masses of chorus

and orchestra _have_ lent him their powers.' The composer has most

truly 'sunk his magic staff and revealed to us wondrous glimpses of the

spirit world.' The period which produced the German Requiem, the Song of

Destiny, and the Song of Triumph (1866-1871) could hardly be surpassed

in the brilliancy of its own special branch of achievement, and with the

completion of the last of these works the growth of Brahms' powers upon

this particular line of development had reached its summit. The choral

works in which the master hand of the great composer was to be again

revealed, whilst they afford additional opportunities of enjoyment to

the lovers of his art, could not, from the nature of those that had

preceded them, increase the lustre of his fame.

Of works for orchestra alone the two Serenades published in 1860 are

still the only examples. As we have seen,[44] Brahms, in the summer of

1862, showed Dietrich the first movement of the C minor Symphony, 'which

appeared, greatly altered, much later on,'[45] but since then the

composer's invariable answer to his friend's inquiries had been that the

time for a symphony had not yet arrived. The ten years we are

considering are, in fact, characteristic of the composer as well by

their silence as by their song. We cannot doubt that just as his choral

works were the ultimate outcome of a long period of retirement and

study, of which we have traced the early as well as the late results, so

the period of his symphonic achievement was being gradually prepared for

by special work as fundamental and unwearied. Of this we shall very soon

have to note the perfected first-fruits on the appearance of a short

orchestral composition, now amongst the most familiar and valued of the

treasures with which Brahms has enriched the musical world.

[35] 'Johannes Brahms in Erinnerung,' p. 37.

[36] 'Meine Bekanntschaft mit Brahms,' _Die Musik_, No. 5 of 1902.

[37] A few words that occur in a letter of Mendelssohn to his sister

Fanny Hensel are of interest here. 'Yesterday I read "Nausikaa" to

Cécile in Voss' translation.... This poem is really irresistible when it

becomes sentimental. I always felt an inclination to set it to music, of

course not for the theatre, only as an epic, and this whole day I feel

renewed pleasure in the idea' (p. 148 of Lady Wallace's translation of

Mendelssohn's letters, 1833-1847).

[38] The entire letter is published by Richard Heuberger in the

supplement to the _Allgemeine Musikzeitung_, 1899, No. 260.

[39] 'Franz Liszt's Briefe an Carl Gille,' with a biographical

introduction by Adolph Stern.

[40] Numbers 1, 3, 10, were published in 1874 as arranged by the

composer for orchestra, and were frequently conducted by him about that

date.

[41] The full programme was as follows:

A German Requiem (under Reinthaler's direction).

Arie from Handel's 'Messiah' and Graun's 'Der Tod Jesu.'

'Hallelujah, Heil and Preis sei Gott.' A song of Triumph for eight-part

Chorus and Orchestra lately composed by Johannes Brahms (under the

composer's direction).

Soprano, Frau Wilt from Vienna, Imperial chamber singer.

Baritone, Herr Schelper, of the Berlin Court Opera.

(The chorus of the Singakademie was augmented for the occasion to about

300 voices.)

The general (public) rehearsal took place on Thursday evening, April 6.

[42] The following were, as the author believes, first performances in

this country:

_Quartet in A major for Pianoforte and Strings_: May 23, 1871. St.

James's Hall, Musical Union (John Ella), by Jaell, Heermann, Wäfelghem,

Lasserre.

_Pianoforte Concerto, D minor_: March 9, 1872. Crystal Palace (A.

Manns), by Miss Baglehole (pupil of the pianist W. H. Holmes, one of the

first English musicians to appreciate the significance of Brahms' art).

The concerto was played for the second time in London by Jaell at the

Philharmonic concert of June 23, 1873.

_Sextet for Strings, G major_: November 27, 1872. St. George's Hall,

Musical Evenings, by Henry Holmes, Folkes, Burnett, Hann, C. Ould,

Pezze.

_Ballades for Pianoforte, Op. 10, Nos. 2 and 3_: March 17, 1873. St.

James's Hall, Monday Popular Concerts (S. Arthur Chappell), by Frau

Schumann.

_Handel Variations and Fugue for Pianoforte_: November 12, 1873. Crystal

Palace, by Florence May.

_Hungarian Variations for Pianoforte_: March 25, 1874. Crystal Palace,

by Florence May.

_Schumann Variations (Pianoforte Duet)_: March 30, 1874. St. James's

Hall, Monday Popular Concerts, by Miss Agnes Zimmermann and Mr. Franklin

Taylor.

_Serenade in A major (small Orchestra)_: June 29, 1874. St. James's

Hall, Philharmonic Society. Conductor: W. G. Cusins.

_Liebeslieder, Op. 52_: January 15 and 27, 1877. St. James's Hall, M.

and S. Popular Concerts. Pianists: Fräulein Marie Krebs and Miss A.

Zimmermann. Singers: Fräulein Sophie Löwe, Fräulein Redeker, William

Shakespeare, G. Pyatt.

_Neue Liebeslieder, Walzer, Op. 65_: May 18, 1877. Cambridge University

Musical Society's Concerts. Pianists: C. Villiers Stanford and Raoul C.

de Versan. Singers: Fräulein Thekla Friedländer, Fräulein Redeker, Rev.

L. Borrisow, Gerard F. Cobb.

N.B.--The _Quartet in G minor_ and the _Quintet in F minor_, both for

_Pianoforte and Strings_, were played for the first time at the Popular

Concerts respectively on January 26, 1874, by Hallé, Madame

Norman-Néruda (now Lady Hallé), Ludwig Straus, and Piatti; and on

February 27, 1875, by Hallé, Joachim, L. Ries, and Piatti, but may have

been previously given in England elsewhere.

The _Pianoforte Concerto in D minor_ was played for the first time in

Vienna at one of the Philharmonic Concerts of the season 1870-71, by the

composer, and for the second time in March, 1873, by Anton Door.

[43] The author has followed the date given in the published catalogue

of the issue of these two books of songs. By their opus numbers they

would rather belong to the year 1873 or 1874. Brahms' well-known

arrangement for Pianoforte of Gluck's Gavotte in A was published in 1871

by Senff.

[44] P. 278 of Vol. I.

[45] Dietrich, p. 42.

CHAPTER XVI

1872-1876

Publication of the 'Triumphlied,' with a dedication to the German

Emperor William I.--Brahms conducts the 'Gesellschaft

concerts'--Schumann Festival at Bonn--Professor and Frau

Engelmann--String Quartets--First performances--Anselm Feuerbach in

Vienna--Variations for Orchestra--First performances--'Triumphlied'

at Cologne, Basle, and Zürich--Resignation of appointment as

'artistic director' to the Gesellschaft--Third Pianoforte Quartet.

Brahms returned to Vienna for the concert-season of 1872-73 with a new

and absorbing interest before him. He had accepted the appointment of

'artistic director' to the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde, thereby

undertaking the duties of conductor, not only of the society's concerts,

but of the bi-weekly practices of its choral society. The usual scheme

of the Gesellschaft concert-season, extending from about the middle of

November to April, comprised four regular, and two extra, concerts with

orchestra and chorus, one at least of which was devoted to an oratorio

or other great choral work.

'Brahms will now conduct the Gesellschaft concerts,' writes

Billroth on October 25; 'he is preparing Handel's _Te Deum_ and

"Saul," two Bach cantatas, his "Triumphlied," etc. At present he is

all enthusiasm over the direction of the choral society, and

enraptured with the voices and the musical talent of the choir.

Should the results be favourable, he will, I think, persevere; a

failure might suffice to discourage him so much as to deprive him

of all inclination for the work....'

The season opened on November 10 with the following programme:

1. G. F. Handel: _Te Deum_ for the Dettingen celebration

of victory, 1743.

2. W. A. Mozart: Aria for Soprano, with obl. accompaniment

for pianoforte and orchestra

(Frau Wilt).

3.(_a_) J. Eccard: 'Ueber's Gebirg Maria geht.'

(_b_) H. Isaak: 'Inspruk ich muss dich lassen.'

Choruses _a capella_.

4. F. Schubert: Symphony in C major (arranged for

Orchestra from the Pianoforte Duet,

Op. 140, by J. Joachim).

This selection hardly invited an enthusiastic demonstration from a mixed

audience, but the performances were well received, and the occasion

resulted in a substantial artistic success for Brahms, and in the

removal of the doubt which had been entertained, even in some friendly

quarters, as to his fitness for his new duties. The inclusion of the

so-called symphony by Schubert was mentioned with disapproval by some of

the papers, though the masterly instrumentation of Joachim's

arrangement--made, we may add, at Schumann's suggestion--was duly

acknowledged.

The second concert, the first 'extra' of the season, was in every

respect brilliant. It included the second performance of the complete

Triumphlied, published shortly before by Simrock with Brahms' dedication

to His Majesty the Emperor William I. The original title inscribed on

the manuscript of the work--'Song of Triumph on the Victory of German

Arms'--was shortened on publication to the simple 'Song of Triumph.' The

programme of December 6 was as follows:

1. Handel: Concerto for Organ and Orchestra.

2. Mozart: Offertorium for double Chorus, Orchestra,

and Organ.

3. Gluck: Aria from the opera 'Alcestis' (Frau

Joachim).

4. J. S. Bach: Prelude and Fugue in E flat for Organ.

5. J. Brahms: Song of Triumph for Solo, eight-part Chorus,

Orchestra, and Organ (solo, Dr. Krauss).

The performances of the great organ-player S. de Lange, invited from

Rotterdam for the occasion, on the society's new instrument, which had

been inaugurated at the previous concert by Bibl; the singing of Gluck's

aria by Frau Joachim; the rendering of two choral works, both new to the

audience, the productions of two masters each representative of his day,

with the art history of a century lying between them, combined to make a

programme of peculiar and varied interest. The Offertorium, an

unpublished work composed by Mozart in his twenty-first year, was

written for double chorus and organ, to which the composer afterwards

added two violins. Brahms now availed himself for the support of his

voices of the entire string band, and the performance of the beautiful

and unfamiliar work made a great impression. It was published almost

immediately by J. P. Gotthard of Vienna. The most important event of the

concert was, of course, the first performance in Vienna of the

performer's Song of Triumph.

'A truly magnificent work, which produced a profound and enduring

impression,' says Schelle; 'the German victories have been the

occasion of its composition.... Both as regards its form and its

treatment of masses, this work bears the stamp of a masterpiece.

The performances were excellent. The society's concerts could

certainly be in no better hands.'

The Triumphlied was given a week later, December 14, in Munich, under

Franz Wüllner, and was again reviewed at length in the _Allgemeine

Zeitung_ of the 25th in a highly interesting article by Franz Pyllemann.

'The orchestra develops truly royal splendour.... What wealth of

tone-combination, what intoxicating charm of colouring, strike the

ear of the listener! The knowledge shown in the use and application

of the most appropriate and noble means of expression, as offered

by the various instruments, must be noted with deep admiration.

Brahms' mastery in the handling of chorus has long been common

knowledge. He makes great demands on his singers, and does not

readily restrict the development of an artistic idea on account

either of their convenience or their uncertainty. But, how his

choral movements sound! In this respect, the master stands nearer

to the heroes of choral composition, and especially Handel, than

any other modern musician. He has studied their works; he has most

intimately fused their, for our time, almost enigmatical technique

with the many resources of modern art; so that we might often

suppose ourselves to be listening, as regards his thematic work,

the polyphonic construction of his parts, to a masterpiece of the

eighteenth century, whilst the character of the themes, the quality

of the harmonies, the condition of the form, on the whole and in

detail, are entirely modern, are quite specifically "Brahms."'

The work was given at the Gewandhaus Concerts, Leipzig, on February 27,

1873.

The effect of the second 'regular' Gesellschaft concert of the season,

on January 5, 1873, was marred by a series of misfortunes. Three works

were announced for performance:

1. Hiller: Concert Overture in D major.

2. Schumann: 'Des Sängers Fluch.'

3. Mendelssohn: 'Die Walpurgis Nacht.'

Hiller, who happened to be staying in Vienna, had promised to conduct

his overture to 'Demetrius,' the most successful of his four works in

this form, but, owing to an accident to the music, it was necessary to

substitute another, which proved ineffective. The drummer was attacked

by sudden illness on the day of the concert, and the substitute provided

proved unequal to the emergency; Hiller was obliged to rap for silence

immediately after beginning the performance of his work, and to

recommence. A similar mishap attended the course of the 'Sängers Fluch,'

under Brahms' direction, in consequence of a misunderstanding between

the solo vocalists and the harpists. Mendelssohn's work alone went

without a blemish.

A very great success was obtained at the next concert, on February 28,

the second 'extra' of the season, with Handel's oratorio 'Saul,' given

for the first time in Vienna. The great work was received with

enthusiasm, and the performance pronounced perfect both by public and

press.

This was followed, at the next 'regular' concert on March 23, by a

varied programme:

1. Bach: Easter Cantata, 'Christ lag in Todesbanden.'

2. Haydn: Symphony in C major.

3. German Folk-songs for unaccompanied mixed Chorus:

(_a_) 'In stiller Nacht.'

(_b_) 'Dort in den Weiden steht ein Haus.'

4. Schubert: 'Ellen's zweites Gesang' (arranged for

Soprano solo, women's Chorus, and Instruments

by Brahms).

5. Beethoven: Chorus from 'Die Weihe des Hauses,' for

Soprano solo, Chorus, and Orchestra.

The attitude of the audience during the early part of this concert was

somewhat doubtful, the opening cantata being followed with earnestness,

but with scanty demonstrations of approval. At the entry of the chorale

at the close of the work, however, an electric feeling passed through

the packed hall as at the release from strained attention, and the

applause which followed was loud and resounding.

'It is hardly possible to bestow enough praise upon the performance

of the cantata,' says Schelle (the _Presse_); 'the choral society

and their conductor Brahms acquitted themselves most splendidly of

their task, and warm acknowledgment is also due to Herr Organist

Bibl.'

Similar praise is given to the performance of the other numbers of the

programme, special mention being made of the folk-songs, one of which

had to be repeated.

'In a word,' concludes the critic, 'the satisfaction caused us by

the beautifully arranged concert must, we think, have been equalled

by that felt by Brahms at its success.'

Billroth gives an interesting account, in a letter dated March 29, of

the energy and success of Brahms' work in this new field of labour.