Among the better class of rather old-fashioned but effective
transcriptions for the piano, which have fallen somewhat into neglect of
later years, Kullak’s pianoforte version of Weber’s “Lützow’s Wild Ride”
deserves attention.
The original ballad, which formed the text of Weber’s song, was one of
the best of many of similar character by Karl Theodor Körner, that
trumpet-voiced Swabian poet, the popular idol of his time in southern
Germany, who sounded the notes of patriotism, conflict, and heroism in
simple but ringing verses, which still echo in the hearts of his
countrymen, and which describe the scenes, and glow with the fervid
spirit of the century’s dawn.
Major Lützow, the hero of the ballad, was an officer in the Prussian
Hussars during the brief and disastrous struggle with Napoleon in 1813,
when his country went down, crushed well-nigh out of existence, by the
invincible power and iron hand of the all-conquering Emperor. When
Berlin surrendered, the Prussian army was disarmed and disbanded, and
the King, Frederick William III, was forced to accept with thanks the
most humiliating conditions of peace; and even the beautiful Queen
Louisa, the people’s beloved divinity, had to humble herself in her
despair to beg from the generosity of the victor the most ordinary
concessions to the vanquished. Major Lützow indignantly repudiated the
disgraceful treaty and openly defied the vengeance of the great
Napoleon. Rallying a few of his gallant riders about him, he escaped to
the forests, and there organized a guerrilla band, for months waging a
phenomenally desperate but successful war on his own account with the
world’s conqueror and his matchless army.
Lützow and his “Black Riders” were soon known far and near, the hope and
pride of friends, the terror of foes; and hundreds of the best martial
spirits of Germany flocked to his standard. He pushed his daring raids
even across the Rhine into France, sweeping down like a whirlwind
apparently from the sky, at the most unexpected times and places,
leaving consternation and destruction in his track, and was gone again
before the French could rally to oppose him. Soon the belief spread that
the “Black Riders” were a supernatural phenomenon, an incarnation of the
bloody spirit of the time, half men, half demons, bearing charmed lives,
ignoring time, distance, and other human limitations, and liable to
appear at any moment, without warning, in the midst of the imperial
camp, or in the heart of Paris. Their very name was enough to shake the
nerves of the bravest veteran.
This element of the supernatural Körner has ingeniously worked into the
ballad, and it adds materially to the thrilling power of the heroic
narration, though it is used, and very judiciously, not in the form of
positive statement, but in a mood of shuddering inquiry and doubt.
Weber, in his vocal setting of the ballad, with his usual ability in
grasping and utilizing every realistic suggestion of his subject, has
emphasized both the martial and the spectral phases of the theme,
treating with equal skill the spirit of martial daring and heroic
patriotism which spoke in Lützow’s deeds, and the supernatural terrors
which they awoke. One moment the “Black Huntsmen” sweep by us across
some open moonlit plain, with a wild haste, with the clang of saber, the
ring of bugle, and the tramp of rushing steeds; the next they flit
before us through the gloom of the forests, vague, mysterious, like the
indistinct phantoms of war. The distinct imitation of the rhythmic beat
of galloping hoofs, so frequent a device in descriptive music, is
effectively utilized here in accompaniment, while the melody of the
song, full of trumpet-like suggestions, is raid to consist in part of
actual bugle calls which were used among Lützow’s raiders.
Kullak, in his instrumental transcription, while preserving with
artistic fidelity the composer’s intention in all the original effects
of the song, has broadened, enriched, and intensified them, and at the
same time adapted them cleverly to the resources of the piano. In places
they may be still further enhanced by playing, as I would recommend to
those possessing sufficient technic for it, all the scale passages for
both hands in octaves, instead of single notes, as they are written,
thus adding volume and brilliancy to the work as a whole.
The introduction, in rapid triplets, with marked accentuation,
reproducing the exact rhythm of the gallop of horses, should begin
softly, as if distant, and rise in a steady crescendo to a strong
climax, suggesting the swift approach of a troop of riders; then the
melody enters, bold and distinct, as if in trumpet tones, or given by
the resonant voices of the dashing troopers. The piece must be varied by
frequent and marked contrasts; now a trumpet-call, clear and sharp,
answered by a distant echo; now a whispered hint of spectral terrors;
again the sweep and rush, the clash and clamor, the delirious excitement
of the impetuous charge.
The exultant climax, at the close, well expresses the sentiment of the
final verse of the ballad:
“The Fatherland is free, famous, and triumphant,
Glory to the heroes whose blood has bought the victory!”
This composition of Weber’s, when given by a rousing, ringing,
full-voiced male chorus of Germans, stirs the martial spirit in every
breast, just as the Marseillaise fires the blood of the French. In its
piano transcription, by Kullak, I recommend it to every player and
teacher who is seeking something which is very difficult to
find—namely: a good and effective number, martial and rhythmic in
character, which is of real merit, and is a novelty to the audience of
to-day, and yet has a classic name attached. It is admirably adapted to
close a program or to end a group of several shorter compositions of
varying mood.
SCHUBERT
1797 1828