F. HIPPOLITE BARTHÉLÉMON, a fine perform_The Violin Some Account of That Leading Instrument and Its Most Eminent Professors, from Its Earliest Date to the Present Time; with Hints to Amateurs, Anecdotes, etc.

at Bordeaux, in 1741. In the early part of his life, he served awhile as

a midshipman in the navy of the King of Spain; but Apollo soon asserted

his claims above those of Mars, and Barthélémon resigned himself to that

softer sway. After pursuing his new career for a time in Paris, where he

composed an opera for the Italian Theatre, he came over to England in

1765. Here also he produced an opera for the Italian stage, through the

success of which he became acquainted with Garrick, and received from

him a musical commission, which was settled for in a way that evinced

the accustomed parsimony of that great actor and little manager. As

leader of the Opera band for several seasons, and solo performer on

various public occasions, Barthélémon gave ample proofs of his mastery

over the violin. His adagios in particular were much admired, and his

extempore cadences were so scientific and appropriate as, to seem like

the natural continuation of the composer’s own ideas. Among his

engagements while in London, was that of leading the band at Vauxhall

Gardens; in which situation he once figured as a principal in a

whimsical occurrence. It chanced, one night, when the gardens were full

of fashionable company, and the stream of music was at high tide, that a

bewildered _bat_, which had winged its eccentric course for some time

about the walks, to the discomposure of the visitors, found its way into

the illuminated orchestra, and, after having made two or three circuits

there, flew into Barthélémon’s face, with so forcible a familiarity as

to unseat him from his eminence, and precipitate him, wholly frighted

from his propriety, to the floor. He fell on his ceremonial sword,

which, in breaking his fall, was itself broken; and he was picked up in

a condition which fortunately did not forbid his joining in the general

chorus of laughers; nor did he fail to congratulate himself, that, in

falling on his own sword, he had _not_ done so after the old Roman

fashion[47].

One of Barthélémon’s points of excellence consisted in his _solo_

performances of Corelli’s music, in which his sweetness and polished

taste were charmingly manifested. He and Salomon are supposed to have

been the last, who made it a regular habit to study, and to perform in

public, the compositions of Corelli. Barthélémon died in London, in the

year 1808.

Dismissing, with the tribute of a simple mention, the names of

Mondonville, Bertheaume, Jadin, and Grasset, we come now to the more

recent time when the genius of _Viotti_, diffusing its influence over

the whole modern system of violin performance, lent an especial lustre

to a number of musical _satellites_ who are marked in the _French_

nomenclature. The Italian Viotti infused new life into the French

School, which, seeking its resources more from fancy than from feeling,

and (with few exceptions) relying rather upon the small excellencies of

nice execution, than upon the sympathies which _expression_ can command,

had become somewhat exhausted. Viotti communicated to the French

Violinists a share of the vigour and the intellectual character that

animated his own style, and taught them

“To fill the languid pause with finer joy.”

LOUIS JULIEN CASTELS DE LABARRE, one of the pupils who were modelled by

the above great master, was born at Paris, 1771, of a noble family of

Picardy. When finished as an instrumentalist, from the hands of Viotti,

he went, at the age of twenty, to Naples, where he studied composition

under Sala, at the Conservatory of La Pietà, as he did afterwards in

France, under Méhul. After two years of success as “premier violon” at

the Théâtre Français, he entered the orchestra of the Grand Opera. The

published works of Labarre for his instrument are of the lighter kind.

Of a year later in date of birth than the preceding artist, is PIERRE

JEAN VACHER, also of Paris. At eight years of age he commenced his

labours on the violin, under Monin, of whom fame is nearly silent; and

a few years later, his _second_ master (albeit “nulli secundus”) was

Viotti. From the age of fourteen to nineteen, Vacher was engaged as

violinist at the great Theatre at Bordeaux. In the early part of the

French Revolution, he went to Paris, where he remained several years in

the orchestra of the Vaudeville Theatre, and became known as a composer

by means of some popular airs, suited to the demands of that

establishment. He was afterwards employed in the orchestras of the

Théâtre Feydeau, and of the Académie de Musique, &c. He published

several operas (or works) of violin music.

PIERRE RODE, another of the eminent players formed by Viotti, was born

at Bordeaux, in 1774. His musical tendencies were manifested from his

infancy; and, after some instructions bestowed on him in compliance with

his early bias, he was sent, while yet but thirteen years old, to Paris,

which city has always been considered, in modern times, as the centre of

the musical art in France, and enjoys indeed something approaching to a

monopoly of it[48]. Here he was introduced to Viotti, who made kindly

estimate of his capacity, and interested himself much in directing and

improving its exercise. His first public appearance was in 1790, before

a Parisian audience—one of his master’s concertos being the subject of

the display. Shortly after this, he was appointed principal second

violin at the Théâtre Feydeau, and obtained further notice by means of

his performance of other concertos of Viotti’s, on selected occasions.

In 1796, Rode commenced professional travelling, and went through

Holland and Hamburgh to Berlin. Returning homewards, he was shipwrecked

on the English coast. This accident gave him an opportunity of visiting

his great preceptor Viotti (who was as yet receiving English shelter and

hospitality),—but it did not enable him to make the impression of his

talents felt here; for, after one attempt, in which (probably through

the disadvantage of being hardly known to us islanders) he met with

slender encouragement, the solemn terrors then prevalent at the Alien

Office intervened to arrest his ambitious bow-arm. In those really

perilous days, our green-eyed government certainly saw _more_ perils

than had either existence or probability. It would seem as if the plague

of democracy had been by them considered to infest the very garments of

a Frenchman, and the air that surrounded his person. It mattered not in

what shape, or with what business, he presented himself; suspicion

whispered an _aliàs_ against them all. If he professed to amuse, he was

but the more likely to be intent on deceiving. Viewed by the help of

this principle, a fiddler became obviously a highly dangerous character.

If discord was confessedly mingled with his strains, surely revolution

might lurk in his fiddle-case. “Let no such man be trusted;” and,

accordingly, Rode was invited to discontinue his sojourn, “_parmi nous

autres Anglais_.” His countryman, Mons. Fétis, in recording the

particulars of Rode’s career, has fallen into the error of attributing

to the English _public_, instead of their political _directors_, his

unhonored departure.

Re-embarking for Hamburgh, the disappointed artist travelled through

Germany, and again reached Paris, the scene of his first triumphs. Here

he was appointed Professor of the Violin at the Conservatory, and

played with renewed success at the Feydean Concerts;—but, with a

continued disposition for travelling, he went soon after to Madrid.

Boccherini, then established in that city, entered into friendship with

him, and scored several of his concertos for him.

In 1800, Rode returned to Paris, and was at once nominated Solo Violin

to the private band of Bonaparte, Chief Consul. His fame and his

excellence were by this time alike matured. He was invited to St.

Petersburg in 1803, receiving the appointment of First Violin to the

Emperor’s band, with the sole duty of playing at the Court Concerts, and

at those given in the Imperial Theatre. After five years thus passed

with high credit, he returned to Paris, and gave what was professedly

his last public concert. Great was the disappointment, however, among

the discerning Parisian Amateurs, at finding that a great change had

come over the _spirit_ of his performance—that he had no longer at

command the brilliancy and fire which had marked him for one of Viotti’s

_own_, but that a premature decay seemed to be upon him, although the

purity of tone, the taste, the elegant style of bowing, were yet

remaining. This exhibition appears to have had a chilling effect upon

the artist himself, who, for a long time afterwards, was heard by his

friends alone. In this latter way, his quartett-playing, accompanied by

Baillot and Lamarre, created real gratification.

His love of fame, meanwhile, did not decline with the powers which had

formerly attended and balanced it. He undertook a further course of

travel in 1811, and went through Austria, Hungary, Styria, Bohemia,

Bavaria, and Switzerland. In 1814, he was resident at Berlin, whence he

returned to his native Bordeaux. He could not yet reconcile his mind,

however, to the relinquishment of a career which his abated energies

forbade him to continue. It was reserved for another (and a most

mortifying) visit to Paris, to convince him that the hope of shining was

now but a morbid feeling within him. He quitted that scene in a state of

grievous and irrecoverable depression. The wanderer came back to his

home, only to languish onwards to his grave. Towards the close of 1829,

a paralytic stroke affected both his body and his intellect. In this

state he lingered nearly twelve months, and died in November, 1830.

Monsieur Fétis has recently referred[49], with a just exultation, to the

days wherein the triple force of Rode, Kreutzer, and Baillot, threw its

lustre over the French School of Violin-players. He characterizes the

talent of Rode as subtle, delicate, brilliant, and frequently

suggestive, in its effects, of the great master who had called it forth.

“There are few living,” he observes, “who have heard that admirable

talent in all its beauty, as it was displayed at the concerts of the Rue

Feydeau, and at those of the Opera; but the artists who _have_ enjoyed

that pleasure, will never forget the model of perfection which then

astonished them.”

As a writer for his instrument (it has been remarked), Rode merits a

distinguished place. His musical education, as regards the principles of

composition, had been neglected, so that he was at first obliged to

derive from his friends the accompaniments to his Concertos; but his

melodies are remarkable for sweetness; the plans of his compositions are

well conceived; and he is not without originality. His Concertos are

well known and admired, wherever the violin is played. Paganini has

performed them at his concerts. His quartetts—which, are, in fact,

brilliant solos for the first violin, accompanied by a second violin,

tenor and bass—have also had great success, especially when his own

skilful hand lent its aid to their execution.

Ten Concertos,—four Quartetts for two violins, tenor and bass,—three

Airs with variations, for a full orchestra, and the same arranged as

quartetts—three sets of violin Duetts—and a share in the compilation of

the celebrated “_Méthode d’Instruction_,” adopted for the

violin-students at the French Conservatory—are the principal labours of

this master. He also wrote some detached pieces, as Andantes, Rondos,

&c.

RODOLPHE KREUTZER, the son of a German musician in the service of the

King of France, was born at Versailles, in 1767, and, in consequence of

his French birth-place and career, is claimed with superior right by

the French School, although something of German inter-mixture, besides

that of the blood, must be distinguished in the early lessons he

received on his instrument, both from his father, and from a far more

important preceptor, Anthony Stamitz.—Under the latter, his advancement

was so rapid as to induce his _début_, at the age of thirteen, at the

_Concert Spirituel_, where he performed a concerto, either of his own,

or his master’s composition, as has been variously represented. From

that time to the age of twenty, his compositions for the violin became

frequent, though rather directed by innate genius than by the

prescriptive rules of composition, of which he had acquired very little.

His desires extended meanwhile towards the condition of a theatrical

Composer, in which object he was assisted by the patronage of the Queen,

Marie Antoinette, as well as by the appointment he received, in 1790, of

First Violin at the _Opéra Comique_. Of his _Lodoiska_, and other

achievements in operatic music, it is needless here to treat: but it

may be noted as a curious fact, that his neglect of the study of harmony

continued till after he had been the composer of at least three

successful operas. He seemed to write by instinct; and his custom, while

composing, was to walk about his room, singing his melodies, and playing

on his violin, till he found an accompaniment which pleased him. When

afterwards appointed a Professor at the newly-established

_Conservatoire_, he fancied that to be a learned contrapuntist was

necessary to the performance of his duties, and so entered, somewhat too

late in life, on a course of study which had little other effect than to

cripple his imagination. As a Professor, however, he is distinguished by

the number of excellent pupils whom he has produced. His mode of

instruction was signalized by the enthusiasm and confidence he instilled

into his scholars. An energy that shrank from no difficulties, lived in

the master, and was reflected in his disciples, who became

distinguished, in general, for a brilliant execution.

Kreutzer made a tour, in 1798, through the north of Italy and Germany,

and returned to Paris by the way of Hamburg and Holland, giving concerts

in all the principal cities. After this, he wielded his instrument in

the immediate service of Napoleon; and, on Rode’s departure for Russia,

he succeeded him as Solo Violin at the Opera; which situation he

exchanged, in 1810, for that of _Chef d’Orchestre_. Fourteen years

afterwards, decorated with the insignia of the Legion of Honour, he

changed his post to that of general Director of the Music at the Opera;

and, after this accumulation of credit, he retired in 1826. Declining

health led him to Geneva, where he died, in January, 1831.

Kreutzer’s compositions, independently of those for the stage (which

exceed thirty in number), consist of two “sinfonie concertanti” for two

violins—one sinfonia for violin and violoncello concertante—upwards of

fifty concertos, duetts, trios and quartetts—five sets of sonatas for

violin and bass—eight sets of studios and capriccios—and several airs

with variations. The compilation of the _Violin-system_ for the

Conservatory was also in part effected by him.

CHARLES PHILIPPE LAFONT, one of the most excellent of recently living

violinists, was born at Paris, where the beauties of his execution long

continued to draw numerous audiences to the concerts he was in the habit

of giving. His first lessons in the art were received from his uncle,

Bertheaume. After having, successively, Berton, and Navoigille the

elder, as masters in composition, and acquiring, by unaided study, a

knowledge of singing, he travelled with his uncle, who procured him

occasions for exhibiting his various powers in the principal cities of

Europe. Returning to France in 1794, he first appeared at Paris as a

vocalist; but was _most_ admired as a _violin performer_, in which

character he shone at the Opera concerts, and the _Salle Olympique_. He

completed his studies under Kreutzer and Rode—to the latter of whom, in

the sweet qualities of his style, he mainly inclined. His next journey

was to Petersburg, where he resided several years, as the Emperor’s

First Violin. In 1805 or 1806, he returned to his native city; and was

appointed leader at the King’s Chapel.

A suavity and elegance, especially in _cantabile_ movements—a tasteful

selection of ornament—and an exemplary purity of tone—have been remarked

as denoting this artist. The scene in his career which exhibits him in

an indiscreet rivalry with Paganini, will be found under the memoir

given of that extraordinary person.

PIERRE BAILLOT, of high name in the French School, which he was partly

enabled to acquire through Italian instruction, was born about the year

1770, near Paris, to which city the curious in coincidences will be

delighted to find that they can trace the local origin of so many of

those eminent violinists who have made it, also, the scene of their

brilliant exertions. Baillot repaired early to Rome, where he remained

some years under the tuition of Polani, an excellent Professor of the

school of Tartini. His own feeling and intellect appear to have done

more for his advancement, however, than the lessons of preceptors. An

artist of a very high order, well versed in the mechanical resources of

his instrument, he was also thoroughly embued with musical sentiment,

and was a discriminating judge in matters of composition.

After his return from Italy, the sound and excellent qualifications he

evinced were the cause of his succeeding Rode, about the year 1795, as

Professor of the violin at the Paris Conservatory. He was the editor,

and (with Rode and Kreutzer) a joint compiler, of the noted System of

Instruction which has contributed so important an aid towards the

successful formation of, perhaps, all the living French violinists. The

System for the Violoncello, in use at the same institution, was likewise

produced under his editorship.

Fine taste, variety of manner, admirable bowing, and forcible tone,

marked the performance of Baillot. In playing solos, to accompany the

dancers at the Opera, Baillot was, consciously, out of his element; but

at the annual quartett-meetings, where the business was that of giving

manifestation to the genius of Boccherini, Haydn, Mozart, and

Beethoven, his soul was kindled, and his powers came forth.—His pupils

have been many—including Habeneck and Mazas.

ALEXANDRE JEAN BOUCHER, born, “comme tant d’autres” of his class, in

fiddler-fostering Paris, came into the world in 1770, and arrived at

early excellence on “the leading instrument.” When seventeen years old,

he went to Spain, where he was appointed Violinist of the Chamber and

Chapel of Charles IV. During the time that monarch resided in France,

Boucher was also in his suite. His mode of obtaining introduction to the

“Majesty of Spain” was as remote from all the prescriptions of courtly

etiquette as can well be imagined. It forms the subject of a good

anecdote, thus translated from the “Souvenirs” of Blangini, the

well-known musical composer:—

“Boucher, when a very young man, at Madrid, was without friends, nor had

anything to depend on, save his bow and his strings. He knew that the

King of Spain was passionately fond of music, and he was anxious that

his Majesty should hear him play; but, having no friend who could help

him to obtain an introduction at Court, he fell upon the following

scheme for the attainment of his object. One day, he stationed himself

in the doorway of the palace gate-keeper’s lodge. The man at first

scrupled to allow him to remain there; but he at length consented, and

Boucher began to play in his most exquisite style. After a little time,

the rolling of the King’s carriage was heard at a distance; his Majesty

was going out to take a drive, and, as he approached, Boucher played

with increased energy and delicacy. The King, surprised at what he

heard, stopped and enquired who was playing. On being informed, he

ordered that Boucher should be presented to him. He directed him to go

to the palace on the following day. Boucher of course obeyed the

mandate. The King was enchanted with his talent, and, shortly after, he

was appointed first violin of his Majesty’s Chamber Band.”

Shortly after the second restoration of the Bourbons to the throne of

France, Boucher proceeded to St. Petersburgh, where he was engaged to

give some concerts. Here again we derive from Signor Blangini an

anecdote, which he states himself to have received from an individual of

undoubted veracity, who had it from the violinist himself.

“Every one who has seen Boucher, must have been struck by his singular

resemblance to the Emperor Napoleon: this resemblance was remarkable,

not only in his countenance, but in his figure. During his stay at St.

Petersburgh, he was one evening engaged to perform at a concert given by

the Grand Chamberlain, Prince Narishkin. The Emperor Alexander was

present, and in the course of the evening his Majesty stepped up to

Boucher, and said, with the affability for which he was distinguished,

“Monsieur Boucher, I have a favour to ask of you.”

Boucher bowed.

“It is an affair,” continued the Emperor, “quite unconnected with the

exercise of your profession.”

“I am wholly at your Majesty’s service.”

“Well, come to the palace to-morrow morning, at twelve precisely. You

shall be immediately shown into my cabinet, and I will tell you what I

have to request. It is a favour which will greatly oblige me.”

“Boucher puzzled himself the whole night, but without being able to form

any probable conjecture of what the Emperor wanted. Next day, he

repaired to the palace at the appointed hour. When he was ushered into

the Emperor’s cabinet, the persons there, among whom was the Grand Duke

Constantine, immediately withdrew. Alexander desired Boucher to follow

him into an adjoining apartment. There he saw, on a sofa, a small

three-cornered hat, a sword, a Colonel’s uniform of the chasseurs of the

French Imperial Guard, and a cross of an officer of the Legion of

Honour.

“Now,” said the Emperor Alexander, “I will explain to you the favour I

have to request. All those objects which you see there, belonged to the

Emperor Napoleon; they were taken during the campaign of Moscow. I have

frequently heard of your _resemblance_ to Napoleon; but I did not expect

to find the likeness so strong as it is. My mother often regrets that

she never saw Napoleon; and what I wish you to do—is to put on that

dress—and I will present you to her.”

“The Emperor withdrew, and left Boucher to array himself in the imperial

costume. When he had completed his toilette, he was conducted to the

apartment of the Empress. The Emperor assured his mother that the

illusion was complete, and that she might now say she had seen _the

great man_. These were Alexander’s words.”

—LIBON, born in 1775, was one of the pupils of Viotti. He became first

violinist at the _Chapel_ of the King of Portugal—and subsequently held

a similar appointment at Madrid, under Charles IV. In this our

Protestant country, where the violin holds no place in the musical

service of the church, the mention of such engagements as these,

represents hardly any definite idea to the mind. “What can the _fiddle_

possibly have to do with _religion_?” is a question very likely, here,

to precipitate itself from the lips of some honest mystified Englishman.

It is a question which _I_ do not undertake to answer, having no such

_experience_ on the subject as would give any value to my reply; but I

recommend those who are anxious for a solution of the point, to travel

abroad—to witness personally this kind of conjunction, as it exists

there—and to _test_ it by its effects upon heart and mind.—In 1803,

Libon returned to Paris, and was successively first violinist to the

Empresses Josephine and Maria Louisa, and to Charles X. He was the

composer of several much-admired Studies, and of various pieces played

at the _Conservatoire_. He died in 1838.

—BELLON, who presents oddly the example of a fine artist made out of a

man of commerce, is one of the French violinists who have displayed

their talents in our metropolis. The following notice of him was given

in the Harmonicon, on the occasion of his performing, in 1826, a

Concerto of Kreutzer’s, at the Philharmonic Concert:—

“The composition denotes a rich invention, united to great practical

knowledge, and was played with a feeling, a firmness, a length of bow,

and a breadth of tone, which, in these squeaking days, were as

unexpected as delightful. M. Bellon is already a highly distinguished

disciple of that fine school of the violin which boasts of Viotti as its

head, and enumerates among its members, Rode, Baillot and Kreutzer; the

latter of whom—the well-known composer of many admired operas—is his

master, and has so well seconded his natural inclinations, that he has

enabled him, in the short space of four years, to stand forward and be

acknowledged as one of the greatest violinists of the day. His history

is rather curious: he was a respectable tradesman in Paris, and was

offered a violin in barter for one of his commodities, an umbrella. He

agreed to the exchange, acquired some little knowledge of the

instrument, became a pupil of Kreutzer, was accepted (though beyond the

prescribed age) at the _Conservatoire_, and is now what we have

described him.”

FRANÇOIS-ANTOINE HABENECK (the eldest of three brothers of this name)

was born at Mezières, June 1st, 1781. Being the son of a performer in a

regimental band who was a native of Manheim, but had taken service in

France, he learned from his father to play the violin, and at the age of

ten he played Concertos in public. After residing in several towns where

his father’s regiment was in garrison, he went to Brest, and passed many

years there, solely occupied with the care of developing his faculties,

as far as he could do so, without model, and without master. While

there, he wrote several Concertos and even Operas, without any other

guide than his instinct, and without possessing any notions of the art

of writing. He was more than twenty years of age when he arrived in

Paris. Being admitted to the _Conservatoire_, as a pupil of M. Baillot,

he was not long in placing himself in the first rank amongst the

violinists who proceeded from that school; and, after a brilliant

competition, he obtained the first prize in 1804, and was appointed

_répétiteur_ of his Master’s class. The Empress Josephine, after having

heard him in a solo, testified her satisfaction by a pension of 1200

francs. About the same epoch, he obtained, as the result of a

competition, a place among the first violins at the opera. Less

fortunate in a second competition, which was shortly after opened, for

the post of leader of the second violins at the same theatre, Habeneck

saw preferred to himself a violinist of moderate ability, of the name of

Chol, a very respectable man, but by no means equal to the young artist

in talent. In a short time, however, this injustice was repaired, for

he was trusted with the post of first violin _adjoint_ for the solos;

and when Kreutzer took the direction of the orchestra, after the

retirement of Persuis, Habeneck succeeded him as first violin.

In 1806, he had become distinguished for that happy organization which

specially qualified him for the direction of a concert-orchestra. At

this period, it was the practice, for the violinists who had obtained a

first prize at the concerts of the _Conservatoire_, alternately to

direct the concerts of that school for a year. But the superior

capabilities of Habeneck for this undertaking soon became so evident,

that he remained in possession of the appointment till the temporary

close of the Conservatory in 1815, after the entry of the allied armies

into Paris. It was in these concerts that he caused to be played, for

the first time, Beethoven’s First Symphony (_in C_). At a later period,

when he was charged with the direction of the sacred concerts at the

Opera, he continued to make the works of this great artist known to the

few enlightened amateurs who came to hear them. But it was, especially,

when a new Concert Society was organized at the Conservatory, in 1828,

that these grand compositions excited the liveliest enthusiasm by the

warmth and energy which M. Habeneck was able to impress upon the

execution of them.

Appointed director of the Opera in 1821, Habeneck discharged the

functions of that office until 1824. At this period, the Viscount of

Rochefoucault changed the administration of that theatre; but, in order

to indemnify M. Habeneck, he created for him the place of

Inspector-General of the _Conservatoire_, which he never filled, and a

third violin class; and caused Kreutzer to retire, in order to give to

M. Habeneck his post of chef-d’orchestre to the Opera. After the

revolution of 1830, M. Habeneck added to these appointments that of

first violin in the King’s band. His best pupils at the Conservatory

were M. Cavillon and M. Allard.

M. TOLBECQUE is one of the artists who have acquired reputation in

France. In the season of 1831, he visited England, and performed at the

Philharmonic Concert; since which time, he has become familiarized among

us, with a reputation that stands higher for solidity than for

brilliancy. M. Tolbecque has a younger brother, who is also a violinist

of some skill, and is known in England.

PROSPER SAINTON, whose talents have been advantageously known to British

audiences for several seasons past, was born at Boulogne, in 1814, being

the son of a merchant in that town. His parents, who were no votaries of

music, gave him an education that looked towards the law. His maternal

grandfather, however, discerning something of the youth’s real bias,

gave him some initiatory musical notions, and then succeeded, though

with difficulty, in obtaining the paternal consent that his grandson

should be provided, at college, with an instructor for the violin.

Opposing fears represented that such an indulgence would wholly turn

aside the pupil from his severer studies. Notwithstanding these

prognostications, he gained an eminent position in his class, and was

afterwards admitted Bachelor of Letters, with the fullest credit.

In 1830, the period at which young Sainton passed his examination for

the University, the Revolution of July burst forth, and proved nearly

the ruin of his father (then President of the Tribunal of Commerce at

Toulouse), who became deeply involved in the commercial crisis that

ensued. In spite of this disaster, he was anxious that his son should

still maintain the jurisprudential complexion of his studies; but filial

respect could not _always_ hold in suppression the tendencies of

struggling nature—and the son’s vocation for music became more and more

manifest. The notion of entering, _one_ day, the Paris Conservatory, had

taken root in his mind. A permission to repair to the capital for

_legal_ purposes, led to the fulfilment of the cherished vision. In the

trustful idea of being able, by his progress in a new direction, to

furnish ground for a reversal of the paternal decree, he entered, with a

beating heart, within the resonant walls of the _Conservatoire_. There,

received, in 1832, into Monsieur Habeneck’s class, he commenced the only

career that could satisfy his long-baffled inclination. For the first

year, indeed, he managed to pursue his law-course, along with the very

dissimilar course prescribed at the Conservatory;—but, after that vain

trial of a somewhat _Mezentian_ process, he surrendered himself entirely

to his passion for the violin, and declined all further concern with

Justinian and the _Pandects_. The _dry_ was thus exchanged for the

_delectable_—hard fact, for tender feeling. _Law_, by this arrangement,

had one reluctant follower the _less_—and _Music_, one loving disciple

the _more_.

Fortified with a potent plea—that of the second _prize_, which he

obtained in 1833—the young aspirant succeeded in reconciling his father

to his engagement in the artistic arena; and then, with powers fully

emancipated, his progress was rapid, and the following year brought him

to the attainment of the _first_ prize.

The _début_ of Sainton in Paris was of a most encouraging success; but,

without waiting to construct a fixed reputation there, he quitted the

capital, to enter on a course of professional travel, to which mode of

life, a youthful imagination, unshaded by experience, was lending the

usual irresistible attractions. The result, however, shewed no

disheartening contrast with hopes thus sanguine; for he met with favour

everywhere. After visiting Italy, Germany, Russia, Sweden, Denmark and

Spain, he returned to the place of his nativity, to share with parents,

of whom he was then become the sole support, the fruits of his

persevering labours.

In 1844, after the decease of his mother, Sainton made his first

appearance in London, where his reception at the concerts of the

Philharmonic Society was such as to induce his return in the year

following;—since which time, he has only quitted our shores to add _one_

more country to his travelling list—namely, Holland,—where new

successes, crowned with presents from Royalty, gladdened his career. His

residence in England has been followed by various appointments—those of

Violin-Professor at the Royal Academy of Music, Leader at the Italian

Opera and at the Philharmonic, and (in 1848) Conductor and Violin

Solo-player in Her Majesty’s State Band.

Monsieur Sainton’s works for the violin, to the present time,

comprise:—1. A Fantasia in A.—2. An Air with Variations, in D.—3. A

Capriccio, with Piano Accompaniment.—4. A Concert Waltz.—5. A Concerto

in A, Op. 9.—6. An Italian _Thema_, with Variations, Op. 10.—7. A

Fantasia on Lindpaintner’s “Standard-Bearer.”—8. Fantasia on Lucrezia

Borgia.—9. Souvenirs from the “Figlia del Reggimento.”—10. Air with

Variations, in G.—11. Concerto in D minor.—12. Concerted Solo in E

major.

* * * * *

Under the French School, as most nearly assimilating with it in

character, may be included the able artists who, in recent days, have

contributed to the honour of Belgium. At the head of these, stand De

Beriot and Vieuxtemps;—of whom, as well as of their compatriot, Artot,

some account shall here be introduced.

CHARLES AUGUSTE DE BÉRIOT, conspicuous for the perfection of the

qualities by which his playing has been distinguished—for remarkably

just intonation—grace—refined taste—rich and charming tone—and for

elegant bowing and wonderful execution, was born at Louvain, of noble

parentage, in 1802. Left an orphan at the age of nine, he found, in M.

Tiby, professor of music in that town, a tutor, a second father, and a

master who laboured with zeal to develop his happy dispositions for

music. Already had he arrived at a certain degree of skill on the

violin; and his progress had been so rapid, that he was able to play

Viotti’s Concerto in A flat (letter H) in such mode as to excite the

admiration of his compatriots. Endued, besides, with a contemplative

mind (says M. Fétis), and having no model immediately at hand that he

could imitate, he sought within himself for that principle of the

beautiful, whereof he could have no notion, except through the

spontaneous strivings of his own individuality. As to the report that he

was the pupil of Jacotot, it appears that the general attention of the

Belgians had been directed for years to the prodigious results which

were said to be derived from “Jacotot’s Method;” and that De Beriot,

wishing to know what advantage _he_ might obtain from its processes, had

some conversations with its inventor, and then learned from it little

more than two things, of _gravity_ rather than of _novelty_; viz. that

perseverance triumphs over all obstacles—and that, in general, we are

not _willing_ to do all that we are _able_ to do. The young artist

comprehended the truth contained in these oracular propositions, and

turned it to his own profit. To this extent only can De Beriot be called

the pupil of Jacotot.

A happy organization, moral as well as physical, an education well

commenced—and labour regulated with the greatest judgment—could not fail

to ensure for De Beriot the acquisition of a very remarkable talent.

Nothing was still necessary but contact with fine talents of other

kinds, in order to finish, to adjust, and to give determined character.

De Beriot was nineteen years old, when (in 1821) he quitted his native

town, and repaired to Paris; where his first object of care was to play

before Viotti, at that time Director of the Opera. After hearing him

with attention, “You have,” said the renowned artist, “a fine style;

give yourself up to the business of perfecting it; hear all the men of

talent; profit by everything, and imitate nothing.” This advice seemed

to imply the recommendation to have no master. De Beriot, however,

thought it necessary to take lessons of Baillot, and entered the

Conservatory with this view; but he was not long in discovering that his

talent had already a character of its own, which it would be difficult

to modify, without injuring its originality. He continued therefore but

a few months in the classes of the Conservatory, resumed the control of

his own labours, and soon appeared at concerts with brilliant success.

His first Airs with Variations, compositions full of grace and novelty,

augmented his rising reputation.

From a brilliant career in Paris, De Beriot passed, in 1826, into

England, where he met with a corresponding reception. In London, as well

as in some of our provincial cities, he gave concerts, that were

attended with transports of applause. Besides engagements at the

Philharmonic Society, he was heard at some of the Musical Festivals,

which take place annually in the principal towns of England. Of the

impression he produced among ourselves, a marked _individual_ instance

is on record, in the fact (stated in the Harmonicon) of a certain

gentleman travelling from Glasgow expressly to hear him play a Concerto

at the Birmingham Musical Festival, and declaring himself amply

recompensed by the result, for his trouble, time, expense and fatigue!

To his performance during one of his later visits to England, the

_Harmonicon_ thus alluded:—

“We knew not which most to admire—his tone, his vigor, the determined

manner in which he sprang to his extreme shifts, his staccato passages,

the bow bounding from the string with an elasticity almost magical, or

the boldness and certainty of his double stops.”

Returning to his native land, with a now brilliant renown, De Beriot was

presented to King William, who, although he had little love for music,

understood the necessity of assuring the independence of a young artist

who gave such promise of becoming an honour to his country. He granted

him a pension of 2000 florins, with the title of “first violin solo” in

his private band. The Revolution of 1830 deprived De Beriot of these

advantages.

It was at one time objected to this artist, that, bounding the scope of

his talent to the composing and playing of Airs with Variations, he shut

himself up within too confined a sphere. Of this reproach he cleared

himself, by the composition of _Concertos_, which he played on various

occasions, and wherein he discovered grander proportions, both as to

conception and execution. The last of these Concertos is full of

originality.

A marked incident in the life of this artist, was his hymeneal

engagement with the celebrated Malibran; and the close opportunities

thus possessed of hearing that accomplished woman, appear to have

exercised the happiest influence on his own talent. At Naples, where he

appeared at a concert given at the Theatre _San Carlos_, he obtained an

enthusiastic success, very uncommon among the Italians; for that nation,

passionate in its admiration of _song_, pays usually a lower degree of

homage to _instrumentalists_.—An anecdote or two may serve to close our

notice of this eminent artist. One of our own violinists, more noted for

his execution than his feeling, was once complaining to him that he

found he could produce very little effect with his (De Beriot’s) _airs

variés_.—“_C’est qu’il y faut de l’âme!_” (“What they require, is

_soul_”) was the laconic reply of the Belgian.

An auditor at one of the concerts here, in which De Beriot was to

exhibit his powers being previously unacquainted with the person of the

great artist, inquired of a neighbouring sitter (apparently French)

whether _that_ were De Beriot—indicating, at the same time, the

individual on whom his supposition rested. The foreign gentleman made

answer in the affirmative; adding, with enthusiasm, and in English of

his own modification, “Sare, you may be sure dat dere is _bot won_ De

Ber-r-r-riot!”

HENRI VIEUXTEMPS was born at Verviers, in 1820. His father, a soldier

retired from the service, practised as a maker and tuner of musical

instruments; and little Henry evinced, at an early date, his natural

taste for music, by the pleasure he found in listening to the

performances of his father on the violin. At two years of age, he amused

himself for hours together by rubbing the hair of a violin-bow on the

strings of a little instrument. At the age of four and a half, he began

to read music. A zealous amateur, charmed with the child’s happy

indications, offered to defray the expenses of his musical education,

and placed him under the tuition of M. Ledoux, an able professor of the

violin, who, by his lessons, developed the talents of the young

violinist, destined soon to become one of the most distinguished

artists of his day. So rapid was his progress, that he was enabled, at

the age of eight years, to undertake, with his master, a tour for the

purpose of giving concerts in the principal towns of Belgium. While at

Brussels, he met with De Beriot, who, struck with his precocious skill,

gratuitously gave him lessons for several months, In the spring of 1830,

he went with his new master to Paris, and performed at a concert given

in the _Salle_ of the _Rue de Cléry_. The future eminence of the

artist-child was then confidently predicted. Returning to Verviers, a

short time after, Vieuxtemps resumed his studies. In 1833, he engaged

with his father in a tour through Germany, during which he acquired, by

the custom of playing in public, the assurance necessary to the

unembarrassed display of talent. It was at Vienna that he obtained his

first really important success. While there, he took some lessons of

Simon Sechter, Organist to the Court, and then returned to Brussels,

where he only stayed a few months. At the end of 1834, he went to Paris,

and, finding no opportunity of exhibiting his talents in that city, he

proceeded to London, where, however, his reception fell somewhat short

of his expectations. Returning to Paris in the summer of 1835, he

resolved to perfect his knowledge of music, and entered on a course of

studies in composition, under Reicha. The superficial but rapid method

of this professor was exactly that which best suited an instrumentalist,

little anxious to acquire a profound knowledge of the forms of

counterpoint, for which he considered he had no use. After this, he

began writing his first compositions, and played them in the course of a

tour in Holland, which he made in 1836;—he then went again to Vienna,

and published his first works.

In 1838, Vieuxtemps played with success at the theatre at Brussels, and

also in a concert given in the Church of the Augustins by the

Philanthropic Society. His performances were “fantaisies” and fragments

of Concertos, in which some happy ideas were noticeable, but mixed with

incoherences. Immediately after this, he set out for Russia, giving

concerts, by the way, at Prague, Leipsig, Dresden, and Berlin. On

quitting this last city for Petersburgh, he was seized with a serious

illness, in a little Russian village, and was detained there more than

two months. On his arrival at Petersburgh, he met with splendid success,

as he did also at Moscow. It was in Russia that he wrote a new Violin

Concerto, and a Grand “Fantaisie” (orchestral), the superiority of

which, when compared with his foregoing productions, is so marked, that

his detractors, both at Paris and Brussels, availed themselves of this

fact to dispute the authorship. It is no unreasonable supposition, that

his future works will give an emphatic denial to these jealous

insinuations. After a stay of more than a year in Russia, Vieuxtemps

returned to Brussels in 1840, and, the 7th of July following, he played

his new Concerto and his “Fantaisie” in a grand concert given for the

benefit of the musicians of the orchestra at the theatre. These pieces,

in the execution of which the artist displayed the finest talent,

excited transports of enthusiasm. Vieuxtemps played them again, with

similar result, at the concerts given at Antwerp, on the inauguration of

the statue of Rubens.

A Parisian success formed now the object of Vieuxtemps’ advancing

ambition. This he obtained in the winter following, exciting no less

interest by the merit of his later productions, than by his skill upon

his instrument. He afterwards made a second tour in Holland, and then

revisited Germany, and appeared, for the third time, at Vienna. Having

travelled through Poland, he returned to Brussels in June 1843, and, in

the fall of that year, was heard in America. His subsequent career has

confirmed all the anticipations formed by the judicious as to the

distinction he would attain.

JOSEPH ARTOT, born at Brussels in 1815, had for his first music-master

his father, a player of the first horn at the theatre of that city. At

the age of five, he _solfa-ed_ with facility; and, with less than

eighteen-months’ study on the violin, he was able to play at the

theatre, in a Concerto of Viotti’s. Charmed with the felicitous aptitude

of the child, M. Snel, at that time first violin-solo, undertook the

task of developing it by his instructions, and not long afterwards sent

him to Paris. There, Artot was admitted as a page at the Chapel-Royal;

and when he had attained his ninth year, he passed under the direction

of the elder Kreutzer, for the study of the violin. This distinguished

artist conceived a regard for him, and often gave him lessons, out of

class, at the Conservatory. On the retirement of Kreutzer, in 1826, his

brother Augustus Kreutzer, who replaced him, evinced for Artot no less

kindness than his predecessor. Artot had just completed his twelfth

year, when the second violin-prize was awarded him, in the competition

at the Conservatory. In the year following, he obtained the first prize.

He then quitted Paris, to visit his own country—playing with success at

Brussels, and making, some months after, a journey to London, where he

was not less fortunate. Returning subsequently to Paris, Artot became

attached to the orchestras of various theatres; but the desire of making

himself known caused him to renounce these appointments, and travel in

the south of France. The result was successful everywhere. He has

written _quatuors_ for the violin, and a _quintett_ for piano, two

violins, alto and bass, two airs with variations for the violin,—and

other works.

Shifting the ground, and giving a fresh stir to our attention, let us

now pass “from _gay_ to _grave_, from lively to severe”—or, in other

words, from _France_ to _Germany_; in which latter country, will be

found ample matter for observation and comment, as relates to the theme

we are pursuing.

CHAPTER V.

THE GERMAN SCHOOL.

“Plain, without pomp—and rich, without a show.” DRYDEN.

Germany and Italy may _each_ be regarded as an abiding realm of sweet

sounds, a special nursery and _home_ of music. They are the two

countries from which, since the days of modern civilization, the great

supplies of musical thought and feeling have been diffused abroad, for

the delight of nations;—the _feeling_, for the most part, proceeding

from Italy, and the _thought_ from Germany, comformably to the

characteristics of the two people respectively. Impulse and passion

predominate on the Italian side—intellect and fancy on the German, and

the division into two great schools, or systems, marked severally by

these opposite qualities, takes its date from about the commencement of

the 18th century. The two musical _natures_, thus distinguished from

each other, have found each a different channel for its

_expression_—that of Italy becoming essentially _vocal_, that of

Germany, _instrumental_. Italian music is fresh from the heart,

spontaneous, and _glowing_ with melody: German music, true to the spirit

of its birth-place, is either grave and solid, or wild and fantastic.

Less simple than the Italian in its elements, the German musical genius

has sought its chief glory amid the intricate combinations of

orchestral science, where its laborious and meditative turn can have

fullest exposition.

Passing from these general remarks to a consideration of the German

School of the _Violin_, in particular, we may observe, that, although

derived originally, like all the others, from that of Italy, and

contracting no inconsiderable obligations to it in its progress, it has

been, on the whole, much less indebted to the Italians for resources and

support, than the School either of France or England. The cause of this

arises out of the admitted fact, that the Germans are essentially a more

musical people[50]—are more deeply imbued with a musical character of

their own—than the natives of the two latter countries. They have been

less willing, as well as less needing, than these, to incur the debt to

Italy—and certainly less willing to add to its amount. The love of the

instrument diffused itself very speedily among them (the Germans), and

their own powerful musical organization enabled them not only to modify

more promptly, after their own character, the hints which they received

from its original Italian cultivators, but to be satisfied with a

smaller quantity of confirmation from the same source. Their comparative

independence, however, or disinclination to borrow, has been somewhat

unfavourable to the completeness of their success as _performers_ on the

violin. They have, as it were, impressed their own stamp and character

upon it —that is to say, they have attained an honest solidity of

execution, of high value in orchestral playing; but, with a few

prominent exceptions, such as Kiesewetter and Mayseder, they seem to

have neglected, as uncongenial to them, the lighter graces and

refinements which have been so readily caught up by the more imitative

Frenchman. As violinists of _display_, therefore, they must be content

to rank below the French. They are below them in that which their

dignity has not thought proper to make the subject of competition—the

“manual exercise” of the instrument. They are inferior in _execution_,

and therefore less effective as solo-players; for though the German

violinists have, in recent times, enjoyed some repute for their skill in

fingering difficult passages with the left hand, they have frequently

been deficient with the right; that is to say, indifferently versed in

the dexterities of the bow.

The ingenious author of “A Ramble among the Musicians of Germany” has

considered the Violin School of that country, at present, to be

inferior, not only to the French—which there is no contesting—but also

to that of England. In this latter notion I cannot help thinking him

mistaken—and I would appeal to his own declaration, that although in

Germany “one may find no band equal to that of the Philharmonic Society,

fifty may be found, _only_ inferior to it.” This fact supposes of

necessity a very large body of good sound violin-players, whose united

merits render it scarcely possible to regard the state of the art in

their country as _inferior_ to what it is in ours.

The Germans have, after all admitted drawbacks, a high renown in

connection with that leading instrument which it is the business of

these pages to celebrate. They have the renown that justly attaches to

the production of the greatest _writers_ of all for the _Violin

Family_. Their compositions for the instrument, in its _single_ state,

are perhaps over-laboured, over-full of chromatic passages, and wanting

in the broad, simple, vocal character of the Italian music of the same

class;—they have been content, individually, to _talk_ with the violin,

whilst the Italians have _sung_ with it;—but—they have tasked their own

genius to find scope for its powers in the aggregate—to develop its

resources _in combination_ with those instruments that are its immediate

relatives; and, in this collective character, they have given new

triumphs to it. The names of Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven, at once

suggest themselves, and assert for their country, under this view, a

superiority which the world does not seek to dispute. In the

_quartetts_, and other instrumental pieces, up to _symphonies_

inclusive, which have been produced by these great men, all the higher

capabilities of bowed instruments are consulted and brought forward,

with a nicety of discernment, and a richness, variety, and grandeur of

effect, which excite equally our surprise and gratification.—Let us now

consider, in their order, the principal German masters whose eminence

relates particularly to the violin.

It is hardly necessary to enumerate all the early performers mentioned

with commendation by Walther in his Dictionary, since their fame and

influence do not appear to have travelled beyond their own country. We

will therefore commence with DAVID FUNK, originally a singer at

Reichenbach, where he was born in the early part of the seventeenth

century. He was an excellent musician, and a capital performer on the

violin and the viol-da-gamba, besides displaying talent on the

harpsichord and the guitar. He was, moreover, a general scholar, and one

of the most elegant versifiers in Germany. Independently of his

excellence as a practical musician, he obtained credit as a composer, in

a variety of styles; and his compositions for the church and the chamber

were much admired. His talents, brilliant and diversified as they were,

suffered some tarnish from his immoral conduct. It was in 1670 that he

began to shine as a composer, by the publication of a collection of

pieces for the viol-da-gamba. He was under the patronage of the Princess

of Ostfrise, during seven years. That Princess, however, dying in 1689,

Funk, then more than sixty years old, returning to the place of his

nativity, succeeded in obtaining several appointments; but these he had

scarcely retained for a year, when the extreme irregularity of his life

deprived him of them, and reduced him to the necessity of quitting the

town as hastily as possible. It was in the depth of winter; and in his

flight, through frost and snow, he arrived at the gate of the castle of

Schleitz. The sordid state of his habiliments made so repulsive an

impression on the porter, that he refused him admittance; but his good

fortune, prevailing, brought to the spot the chapel-master, Liebich,

who, acquainted with his merit, though previously a stranger to his

person, expressed his desire for the honor of his friendship, and, in

the name of the lord of the castle, whose favour and protection he

himself enjoyed, invited the fugitive to his patron’s table. The Count

was so delighted with his musical talents and various knowledge, that he

retained him as his friend and companion, till letters arrived from

Wohnsiedel, claiming him as a moral delinquent, to answer for some part

of his past conduct. The Count, disposed to favour him as much as the

nature of the case would admit, advised him to depart secretly, and

afforded him every assistance for his journey. Funk, once more a

wanderer, without knowing whither to go, was, a few days afterwards,

found dead, behind a hedge, in a field near Arnstadt!

It is doubtful whether any of the violin compositions of this master are

extant; but, among his sacred instrumental pieces, there is one which

has received the encomium of all real judges of music: it is a _drama

passionale_, the words of which, as well as the music, were his own.

THOMAS BALTZAR, born at Lubeck about 1630, was esteemed the finest

performer on the violin of his time. He came to England in 1658, at

which time the instrument had not yet been enabled to manifest its real

powers among us, nor to emerge (as it shortly afterwards did) from the

low estimation in which it was held. Baltzar may be considered as having

helped in no small degree to prepare the way for its rescue from

humility in this country. He lived, for about two years after his

arrival here, in the house of Sir Anthony Cope, of Hanwell, in

Oxfordshire. He is said to have first taught the English the practice of

shifting (that is to say, of what is termed the _whole-shift_), and the

use of the upper part of the finger-board—in like manner as Geminiani is

believed to have been our first instructor in the _half-shift_.[51] It

is certain that the power of execution and command of the instrument,

exhibited by Baltzar, were matter of novelty among us, although we had a

native performer, of no mean abilities at that period, in the person of

Davis Mell, who, in delicacy of tone and manner, seems even to have

exceeded the more potent and renowned German. Baltzar was of a

Bacchanalian turn in his habits, and was believed to have brought his

end somewhat the nearer thereby. His remains obtained the honor of a

place in Westminster Abbey, in the year 1663. Dr. Burney has

characterized his compositions as discovering “genius and a strong

hand.”

HENRY JOHN FRANCIS BIBER, vice-chapel-master to the Bishop of Salzburg,

seems to have been one of the best violin-players of his time; and his

_solos_, which he published in 1681 (with a bass), are stated by Dr.

Burney to comprise more of fancy, as well as of difficulty, than any

music of the same period. One of the pieces is written on three staves,

as a score for two violins and bass, but is designed to be played (as

regards the violin) in _double stops_. Others are played in different

tunings of fourths and fifths, as for a treble viol.

GODFREY FINGER, a Silesian, was a voluminous composer for the violin; in

a style of less power than that of Baltzar, but of more polish, and

approaching somewhat to the Italians, Bassani and Torelli. He was some

years resident in England, having received, in 1685, the appointment of

chapel-master to King James II. On returning to Germany, he became

chamber-musician to the Queen of Prussia in 1702, and, in 1717,

chapel-master to the Court of Gotha.

JOHN GOTTLIEB GRAUN, brother of the celebrated chapel-master of that

name, and born about the year 1700, was an excellent performer on the

violin, and a respectable composer, of the old school. He was

concert-master to the King of Prussia, and there are extant of his

writings, several overtures, symphonies, concertos, a “Salve Regina,”

and some masses. He transmitted, through several good pupils, the

serviceable solidity of his talent.

FRANCIS BENDA, usually commemorated as the originator of a distinct

style of violin-performance in Germany, was a native of Bohemia, and

born in the year 1709. At the age of seven, he commenced vocal studies,

and, two years afterwards, became a sopranist in the choir of St.

Nicholas, at Prague. He soon afterwards went to Dresden, where he was

immediately received among the _élèves_ of the _Chapelle Royale_, in

which situation he continued eighteen months. About this period he began

to practise the violin, and had no other resource than that of engaging

himself with a company of itinerant musicians, who attended fêtes and

fairs. While thus situated, he formed an acquaintance with a blind Jew,

of the name of Loebel, a virtuoso of no mean order, who became his

master and his model. At length, tired of this wandering life, he

returned to Prague, and took lessons of Kouyezek, an excellent violinist

of that town. He was now eighteen; and, eager in the pursuit of

professional excellence, resolved to visit Vienna, where he soon found

an opportunity of profiting by the example of the then celebrated

Franciscello. After a residence of two years in that city, he went to

Warsaw, where he was nominated Chapel-Master. In 1732, at the

recommendation of Quantz, the Prince Royal of Prussia (afterwards

Frederic II) received him into his band. Anxious for further improvement

in his art, he became the pupil of Graun, for the violin; then studied

harmony under his brother; and afterwards learned composition of Quantz

himself. In 1732, he replaced Graun as the King’s Concert-Master, which

situation he held till his death, at Potsdam, 1786.

Of the peculiar qualities of Benda, as a violinist, Dr. Burney, in his

Travels, thus speaks:—“His manner was neither that of Tartini, nor of

Veracini, nor that of any other leader; it was purely his own, though

founded on the several models of the greatest masters:”—and Hillar, in

his Biography, tells us “that his tones were of the finest description,

the clearest and most euphonious that can be imagined. The rapidity of

his execution, and the mellow sweetness of his altissimo notes, were

unequalled. With him, the violin had no difficulties. He was master of

all its powers, and knew when to use them.”

JOHN STAMITZ, Concert-Master and Chamber-Musician at Mannheim, and

regarded, like the preceding artist, as the founder of a distinct class

of German violinists, was born in 1719, at a small town in Bohemia,

where his father was a school-master. Besides the high repute he enjoyed

as regards the formation of pupils, Stamitz has attained a just

celebrity by his written works. These (which include a curiosity in

art—a _duett_ for _one violin_) consist principally of symphonies or

overtures, concertos, quartetts and trios. Though exhibiting a masterly

character, they convey the impression, at this period, of belonging too

peculiarly to the old school, and have been considered, by some critics,

to savour too much of the Church style.

The successors of Benda and Stamitz, still adding some improvements to

the precepts or the practice inculcated by those eminent directors, may

be said to have created a school of their own, at the head of which we

should place Leopold Mozart (author of “_Der Violinschule_”), Fraenzl,

and Cramer, who made some approach to Tartini, his contemporary, and

flourished long in England, as a concerto-performer and leader. Of the

first and the last of these three professors, some account shall here be

subjoined.

LEOPOLD MOZART, father of him who, in the fullest sense permitted to

sublunary credit, may be called, “The Undying One,” was born at Augsburg

in 1719. After having completed his studies, and particularly a course

of jurisprudence, at Salzburg, young Leopold entered the family of the

Count of Thurn, in the somewhat odd quality of _Valet-de-Chambre

Musicien_. The situation of a violinist having become vacant in the

chapel of the Prince Bishop of Salzburg, he obtained it in 1743. His

compositions made him favourably known in Germany but his reputation was

extended principally by the _Method_ for the Violin, which he published

in 1756, and which, for half a century, was considered as the best work

of the kind.

In 1762, Leopold Mozart obtained the post of Second Chapel-Master at the

Court of Salzburg. Of seven children whom he had by his marriage, there

remained to him only the son, afterwards so famous, and a daughter,

whose success in childhood promised a talent which was never realized.

The musical education of the children occupied all the time which his

duties and his works left to the father. A little while after his

nomination as Second Chapel-master, he commenced long tours with his son

and daughter, visiting the principal courts of Germany, Holland, England

and France, and passed many years in Italy. Returning to Salzburg, rich

in the hopes that centered on his son,—but with an exchequer nearly

exhausted by the charges attendant on so much itinerancy—he did not

again quit the residence of his Prince till 1775. Anxiously careful

about ameliorating the condition of his family, he failed to secure that

object, and became more and more impoverished. The forms and practices

of a scrupulous devotion furnished him, however, with some consolation

in his griefs, and alleviated his sense of suffering from the gout. He

died at Salzburg, in 1787.

Of the Symphonies composed by Leopold Mozart, it suffices for their

commendation to say, that some of them have been attributed to his son.

His _Method_ for the violin is entitled “Versuch einer Gründlichen

Violinschule,” Augsburg, 1756, 4to., with a portrait of the author, and

four plates representing the different positions for holding the bow and

the violin. This work, composed according to the doctrine of Tartini,

contains (says M. Fétis) some excellent things, and will always be read

with profit by such violinists as are disposed to reflection on the

subject of their art. The second edition, completed, appeared, under the

title “Gründliche Violinschule,” in 1770. A third edition was published

in 1785. It has since been frequently reprinted, and translated into

several languages.

WILLIAM CRAMER was a native of Mannheim, and born in the year 1730.

Influenced by an early passion for music, and aided by the bounty of

Prince Maximilian, he soon acquired excellence on his favourite

instrument, and, at the age of twenty, obtained a situation in the

chapel of the Elector Palatine. Not, however, receiving on the Continent

encouragement commensurate with his continual and rapid improvement, he,

in 1770, came to England, where he soon obtained the situations of

Leader of the Opera-House band, and of the King’s Concerts. In 1787,

under John Bates, the Conductor, he led the performances given at

Westminster Abbey in commemoration of Handel, and led them in a style

that proved his thorough comprehension of the music of that great

master. Though Cramer failed to obtain in Germany sufficient patronage

to induce his remaining in that country, his claims were admitted there

by all real judges of executive talent; and in England he was esteemed

the first violinist of his time. It used to be asserted of him that he

joined the emphatical expression of Benda with the brilliancy of Lolli.

The decision and spirit which characterized his playing, gave him great

advantage as a leader.—The latter days of Cramer were somewhat clouded.

The emoluments arising to him from the Opera House, and from his

employment as a private teacher of the violin, had been considerable

during many years; but talent is too frequently a bad economist, and his

was one of the cases in which it proved so. The embarrassment he

sustained in his affairs, and the transfer of the post of leader of the

Opera-band to the greater Viotti, combined to exercise an injurious

effect on his health and spirits. His death occurred in October 1799.

Cramer was twice married, and had two sons by his first

wife—John-Baptist the great _Pianiste_, and François, of whom

presently.[52]

JOHN PETER SALOMON was born at Bonn, in 1745. Director, purveyor,

composer and performer, he was one of those whom the musical historian

must delight to honour. He was educated for the law; but the voice of

music was too powerful within him to be restrained. While very young, he

became a performer in the Electoral Chapel at Bonn. In 1781 he went to

Paris, with a result of more fame than profit. His enterprising spirit,

regulated by discretion, found a happier field in London, where his

cheerful disposition, polished manners, good sense, and general

attainments, soon obtained for him the friendship of all who at first

patronized him for his professional talents. His concerts in 1791 form

an epoch in musical history—for, to them we are indebted for the

production of Haydn’s twelve Grand Symphonies, known everywhere as

“composed for Salomon’s Concerts.” Salomon had formed his project, and

digested its details, in the previous year. In order to give every

possible effect, as well as _éclat_, to his concerts, he determined to

engage that “par nobile,” Haydn and Mozart, not only to write

exclusively for them, but to conduct their compositions in person. For

this purpose he went to Vienna, where, after several interviews with

both these great musicians, it was mutually agreed that Haydn should go

to London the first season, and Mozart the next. They all dined together

on the day fixed for the departure of the two travellers. Mozart

attended them to the door of their carriage, wishing them every success,

and repeating, as they drove off, his promise to complete his part of

the agreement the following year. This, however, was an abortive hope.

_L’homme propose, Dieu dispose_:—Mozart, who had filled a short life

with durable deeds, was carried, within that stipulated interval, to the

grave!—The terms on which Haydn undertook so long a journey and so

responsible a duty, were, £300 for composing six grand Symphonies, £200

for the copyright of them, and a benefit, the profits guaranteed at

£200. Salomon re-engaged Haydn for the season 1792, on the same terms,

except that, for the copyright of the last six Symphonies, the increased

sum of £300 was paid. In the first concert of this year, Yaniewicz

played a Violin Concerto. At the first of the series in 1793, Viotti

made his début in London, in _his_ favourite Violin Concerto. In 1794

and 95, Haydn, having visited London a second time, was again at the

same post of pianoforte president. In 1796, Salomon’s discriminating

judgment brought out of obscurity, and placed in their proper sphere,

the extraordinary vocal powers of Braham. Of Salomon’s subsequent

subscription concerts, engagements at private music parties, attendances

at the Prince of Wales’s Carlton-House Concerts, compositions of

canzonets, songs, glees, &c. it is not requisite here to treat. His

public career extended to the period of the formation of the

Philharmonic Society, in 1813, of which he was one of the original and

most zealous promoters and assistants. He died Nov. 28th, 1815. His

remains, followed to the grave by a long train of professional and other

friends, were interred in the great Cloister of Westminster Abbey.

Salomon was one of the few whose right to contend for the honour of

being considered the greatest performer in Europe on the violin, was

manifest. His taste, refinement, and enthusiasm, as Dr Burney has

observed, were universally admitted. His profound knowledge of the

musical art served to add solidity to his fame. His judgment and vigour,

as a leader, are traditionally well known. Among his pupils, Pinto

proved the extent of his master’s skill, and his ability in

communicating it. Unfortunately, this extraordinary young man, whose

musical progress reflected so much honour on his teacher, possessed

qualities that are but too frequently the regretted concomitants of

genius, and he perished just as he was ripening into finished

excellence. Salomon, besides other works, published two Violin

Concertos, arranged for the pianoforte, with full accompaniments; and

six Solos for the violin, printed first in Paris, afterwards in London.

Among his unpublished compositions, are some Violin Quartetts, Trios,

and Concertos.

CHARLES STAMITZ, eldest son of Stamitz the famous, was born at Mannheim,

in 1746. He was made a violinist by his father, and his father’s pupil,

Cannabich; and was afterwards engaged in the chapel of a German Prince,

till the year 1770, when he went to Paris, and made a durable impression

there, both as a concerto-player on the violoncello and tenor, and as an

instrumental composer. His writings had all the fire and spirit of those

of his father, as well as an admixture of later improvements, without

servility of imitation, as relating to _any_ style. Many of them were

published at Paris, Berlin, and Amsterdam. This artist died at Jena, on

his journey to Russia, in 1801.

JOHN FREDERICK ECK, born at Mannheim, in 1766, became Concert Director

to the Court of Munich. Noted as an artist in his day, he is further

noted as having assisted to develop the great faculty of Louis Spohr.

ANDREAS and BERNARD ROMBERG, cousins to each other, and scions of a

family of some note in the annals of music, were for several years joint

participants in labours connected, immediately or incidentally, with the

violin. About the year 1790, the two cousins held situations in the

court-chapel of the Elector of Cologne, at Bonn, where Andreas was

already distinguished by his excellent performance on the violin, and

his compositions, both vocal and instrumental; and Bernard no less for

his violoncello-playing, and the pieces he had written, either for his

own instrument, or the full orchestra[53].

When the French armies entered Bonn, at the commencement of the

revolutionary war, the Elector’s musical establishment was broken up,

and the two cousins proceeded to Hamburgh, where they readily obtained

engagements in the orchestra of the German Theatre. In 1795, they left

Hamburgh, and, continuing their mutually beneficial compact, made

journeyings together through several cities of Germany and Italy,

establishing everywhere the reputation of being among the best violin

and violoncello players of the day. Their duetts and concertante

performances, in particular, had that perfect harmony of finish which

the constant habit of studying and playing _together_ could perhaps

alone bestow. The familiar interchange of ideas was likewise of

advantage to them in the compositions which they produced, whether

conjointly or separately. They may be styled, by no very forced

parallel, the “Beaumont and Fletcher” of the musical world.

In 1797, they returned to Hamburgh, where Andreas remained; while

Bernard, two years afterwards, made a separate excursion through England

and Spain, to Lisbon, and, returning to Hamburgh about 1803, obtained

subsequently a situation in the Royal Chapel at Berlin. Andreas had, in

the mean time, turned his attention more extensively towards

composition, and produced works involving larger combinations, and full

orchestral agency, such as it is not requisite here to specify. Both the

cousins, moreover, are _best_ known as voluminous, and at one time

highly popular, composers for their _own_ particular instruments. Their

chief instrumental works, as an English critic has remarked, will always

be heard with pleasure, although without the excitement which attends

Beethoven, or the deep admiration which waits upon Mozart. Of these

works it may suffice here to enumerate:—

Four Concertos for the violin—two Quintetts—twenty-four Quartetts

(comprised in eight sets)—a Quartett for the pianoforte and

stringed instruments—nine Duetts—and a set of three Studios, or

Sonatas for the violin—by _Andreas Romberg_.

A set of three Quartetts—four single Quartetts—a Trio for violin,

tenor, and violoncello obligato, in F—six Concertos, and several

Concertantes and Airs with Variations, for the violoncello—two

Quartetts for pianoforte and stringed instruments—by _Bernard

Romberg_.

FRANÇOIS CRAMER, second son of William Cramer, was born near Mannheim,

in 1772. He commenced his labours on the violin under regular tuition,

at a very tender age, and was no novice in the art of handling it, when,

in his eighth year, he left his native country, to join his father and

his brother John, who were settled in England. A long suspension of his

practice, however, was rendered necessary by feeble health; and the

extent of delay prescribed by Horace with regard to a poem—“nonum

prematur in annum”—was nearly enforced as to young Cramer’s violin,

which he had to keep in reserve during a lapse of seven years. On

recommencing, he found himself under the disadvantage of having to toil

over all the elementary ground anew. He did this, however, with good

heart, and then worked his way into close acquaintance with the Solos

of Geminiani and Tartini, and the _Capriccios_ of Benda and old Stamitz.

At the age of seventeen, he was placed, as a gratuitous member, in the

Opera band, by his father, who was its leader. In the course of a few

years, he rose in the ranks of the orchestra, and was appointed

principal second violin under his father, not only at the Opera, but at

all the principal concerts, as the King’s Concerts of Ancient Music, the

Ladies’ Concerts, and the great provincial musical festivals. On the

death of his father, he was appointed leader of the Ancient Concerts,

and came into very general employment as an orchestral leader, during

many years—a position for which his steadiness of direction, and his

solid style of playing, well qualified him. It was on his capacity as a

leader, especially for the lofty music of Handel, that his fame rested.

As a solo-player, he never had much importance—his powers of execution

not being of the kind that ensures the uniform triumph over difficult

passages.

FRIEDRICH ERNST FESCA, born at Magdeburg, in 1789, was brought up in the

midst of music, and took to the study of the violin in his ninth year,

under M. Lohse, first violinist of the Magdeburg Theatre. Fesca made

rapid progress, and was speedly delighted at being enabled to join in

quartetts of Haydn, Boccherini and Mozart. In his eleventh year, he

exhibited in a concerto on the violin, publicly, at Magdeburg. His first

essay in composition was a concerto for the violin, performed by himself

at Leipsig. Introduced by Marshal Victor to Jerome Buonaparte, he became

first violinist at Cassel. His forte in instrumentalizing lay

principally in the _adagio_, that true touchstone of a performer’s

abilities and it was in giving effect to this that his inmost soul shone

forth. His _compositions_, also, showed superior delicacy in the

adagio. Fesca afterwards became first violin of the Court Theatre at

Carlsruhe, and at a later period was concert-master to the Grand Duke of

Baden. He died in 1825, leaving a character highly esteemed and

respected, especially for its exemption from the alloy of professional

envy. He was distinguished in other compositions besides the

instrumental. His quartetts possess great merit, but are by no means to

be ranked with those of Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven. They are marked by

grace and feeling, more than by invention.

CHRISTOPH GOTTFRIED KIESEWETTER was born in 1777, at Anspach, where his

father was first violinist at the Royal Chapel. His own devotion to the

instrument was repaid by the high reputation he acquired, rather than by

pecuniary success;—for music in Germany, like virtue everywhere, is, in

a certain qualified sense, its own reward. In that country, where the

practice of the musical art is so extensively diffused, the individual

professor has not the opportunity of rendering it so lucrative to

himself, as it is where talent is concentrated among a very few of the

community. Holding the appointment of leader of the band to the

Hanoverian Court, Kiesewetter found himself too poor for the maintenance

of a wife and eight children. In 1821, he came to London, and at once

established a reputation here by his spirited playing at the

Philharmonic Concerts. His execution was considered to be sometimes

quite amazing, but not always perfect. It was particularly remarked that

in quick playing he had a sort of jerking squeak in his high notes, that

was somewhat anti-musical, and was one of the consequences of his too

frequent use of the extra shifts. These squeaking notes, and marked

slidings of the finger up the strings, as it has justly been observed,

may shew a certain kind of mechanical skill that partakes of the nature

of practical wit, but they also betray the weaker part in the

instrument, and are apt to be (except when _insured_ by the skill of a

Paganini) more provoking than pleasing. There existed a similar cause of

deduction from the praise due to _another_ German violinist, M. Hauman,

who played at the Philharmonic in 1829. Kiesewetter, when in Germany,

was fond of introducing Russian airs into his performances, which he did

with happy effect. His action in playing was not graceful: this was

probably to be attributed, in some degree, to the effect of a pulmonary

complaint under which he suffered.

Mr. Gardiner has described the painful circumstances attendant on the

last two performances of this accomplished artist, which took place at

Leicester. On both occasions he was supported into the orchestra, and

placed in a chair, by his brother professors,—his debility being so

distressingly apparent that many persons apprehended he would expire in

the room. The audience, with one voice, entreated that he would abandon

the idea of playing; but he persisted; and though the withering hand of

death had so visibly touched him, he had yet enough of energy remaining,

to exhibit a few scintillations of his taste and style; but his fire and

vigor were gone. He died in London, in September 1827, receiving

unremitting attentions at the close of his career from his pupil, Oury.

His death may be in some sort regarded as a loss to our English

violinists—for the animation of his performance, beyond what is common

either in his own country or here, afforded a useful example, which

might have been prolonged with advantage.

LOUIS SPOHR, the most highly gifted and accomplished of living German

musicians, is the son of a physician at Seesen, in the Brunswick

territory, where he was born in 1784. In his juvenile days, he was less

forward in the exhibition of the musical faculty than has been the case

with many whose powers, at maturity, have been far below his. The late

Duke of Brunswick, however, who was himself a performer on the violin,

interested himself in the success of young Spohr, and received him as a

musician in the Chapel Royal. The Duke afterwards enabled him to

accompany a distinguished player, Francis Eck, on a tour to Russia, by

which means he acquired much important musical knowledge. On his return,

he applied himself very closely to violin-practice, and then travelled

through various parts of Germany, exciting enthusiasm by the fine

qualities of his playing; for by that time he had already impressed on

the instructions derived from his master the seal of his own

organization and fine meditative powers. In 1805, he became

concert-master, violinist, and composer, to the Duke of Saxe Gotha. In

1814, Spohr was in Vienna during the Congress, on which conspicuous

occasion Rode and Mayseder had likewise resorted thither; and a story

was current which represented each of these eminent performers as having

played in succession, in a quartett of his own composition, at a private

party, with the result of a unanimous preference for Mayseder, both as

to the composition and the performance. This tale is not accredited by

the judgment formed of the respective competitors by the public: and any

belief of it must be greatly at the expense of the musical discernment

among the “private party.”—A tour through the principal Italian

cities, where he gained general applause, occupied Spohr in 1817;

and he was subsequently director of the music at the Theatre of

Frankfort-on-the-Main. In 1820, he was in England, exhibiting his

admirable powers at the Philharmonic Concerts, where he introduced two

fine symphonies and an overture, of his composition; but, neither here

nor in France, which country he also visited, was he appreciated to the

full extent of his merits: The cause of this has been well suggested by

an able English critic, whose remarks, somewhat abridged, I here

subjoin:—

“We had the traces, in Spohr’s execution, of a mind continually turning

towards refinement, and deserting strength for polish. His tone was pure

and delicate, rather than remarkable for volume or richness; his taste

was cultivated to the highest excess; and his execution was so finished,

that it appeared to encroach, in a measure, upon the vigour of his

performance. But he was very far from being deficient in the energy

necessary to make a great player. The fact seems to be, that this

quality, which for its inherent pre-eminence is most distinguishable in

other violinists, was, in Spohr, cast into secondary importance, and

rendered less discernible, by the predominating influence of his

superior refinement. His delicacy was so beautiful, and so frequent an

object of admiration, that his force was lowered in the comparison. And

as it is frequently the consequence of a too subtle habit of refining to

obliterate the stronger traces of sensibility, so his expression was

more remarkable for polished elegance, than for those powerful and

striking modifications of tone that are the offspring of intense

feeling. It is probably owing to this softening-down of the bright and

brilliant effects, that he failed (if such a man could be ever said to

fail) in eliciting the stronger bursts of the public approbation which

attend those exhibitions of art that are directed against, and that

reach, the affections of a mixed audience. Thus, though in the very

first rank of his profession and of talent, Spohr perhaps excited a

lower degree of interest than has frequently attended the performance of

men whose excellences were far below standard. Such is the common fate

of all extreme cultivation and polish. It transcends the judgment of the

million. The Roman critics remarked the pre-eminent beauty with which

Spohr enriched his playing, by a strict imitation of vocal effects. They

said he was the finest _singer_ upon the violin that ever appeared.

This, perhaps, is the highest praise that can be bestowed. The nearer an

instrument approaches the voice, the nearer is art to the attainment of

its object.”

In the autumn of 1839, Spohr was at the Norwich Musical Festival, where

his appearance, after a lapse of sixteen years, excited much interest.

He was then described as “a tall and stout man, with a noble head, a

pleasing aspect, and a presence in which much simple dignity was

engagingly blended with gentleness and modesty.” His Violin Concerto,

played on that occasion was a newly-written work, exhibiting no mean

share of his genius as a composer. It was remarked that in his playing

he made no use of the more artificial resources of the modern school—not

introducing into any of his highest flights a single “harmonic note,” a

single touch of the instrumental _falsetto_—but producing every note in

those flights by fairly stopping the string, in perfect tune, and with

the utmost parity of tone. Great command of the bow, and lively rapidity

of fingering, were also obvious.

Broad and large in dimensions as in design, and marked by high creative

genius, are some of the works that illustrate the name of this potent

artist—works that summon to their exposition vocal and instrumental

_multitude_:—but these it is hardly requisite here to particularize. It

more concerns me to state that, of his active and intelligent career,

one of the best results has been the formation of many a well-trained

pupil, now holding honorable position in this or that great city of

Europe. The principles and details of his mode of instruction—so far as

the breathing soul could convey them through the medium of inanimate

paper—are found in his great didactic work, “_Der Violin-Schule_”

published at Vienna by Haslinger, and subsequently translated into

French. For the benefit of English students, a version, prepared by Mr.

John Bishop, of Cheltenham, and bearing the author’s own attestation of

its fidelity, has been issued by Messrs. Robert Cocks and Co.

With reference to the violin-compositions of this great master, the

following warm (and perhaps but little exaggerated) tribute has been

rendered by a critic in the “Spectator:”—

“The writers of violin concertos are, for the most part, only known as

such; but _Spohr’s_ compositions for his instrument display not only the

brilliancy of their author’s execution, but the elevated character of

his mind: we listen not only to the principal performer with wonder, but

to the whole composition with delight. They have a character of their

own—unlike and _beyond_ that of any similar productions of any age or

country.”

CHARLES WILLIAM FERDINAND GUHR, “_Chef-d’Orchestre_” of the Theatre of

Frankfort-on-the-Main, was born at Militsch, in Silesia, in 1787. His

father, a singer at the principal church of that city, undertook the

musical education of his son. At fourteen years of age, Guhr entered,

as a violinist, the chapel in which his father was employed. His youth,

and want of experience in the art of writing, did not deter his ambition

from composing many concertos, quatuors and other pieces for the violin.

When he had attained the age of fifteen, his father sent him to Breslau,

to continue his studies there, under the direction of the chapel-master,

Schnabel, and the violinist, Janitschek. His progress was rapid, and he

soon returned to Militsch. When Reuter took the direction of the theatre

of Nuremberg, he placed Guhr in the post of _Chef-d’Orchestre_. His

talents in the art of directing introduced in a short time considerable

ameliorations into the state of music in that town. He performed several

concertos of his own composition, and had some of his operas performed

with success at the theatre. Having passed several years at Nuremberg,

and having, while there, married Mademoiselle Epp, a singer at the

theatre, Guhr accepted the direction of the music at the theatre of

Wisbaden; but the war of 1815 having ruined this as a place of

residence, Guhr went to Cassel, where the Prince named him director of

the music of his chapel, as well as of the theatre. Vacating this post

in the year following, he remained without employ up to the year 1821.

At that period, an engagement for 22 years was offered him as director

of the orchestra of the theatre at Frankfort-on-the-Main with a salary

of 5,000 florins, which he accepted.

In Germany, M. Guhr was very advantageously known as a violinist; and he

is said also to have possessed considerable skill on the piano. In the

earlier steps of his progress on the violin, following the example of

Rode, he aimed principally at precision and purity in his playing; but,

after having heard Paganini, he entirely changed his model, and made a

special study of the peculiarities of that extraordinary man’s

execution. We are specially indebted to him for a work (already alluded

to) on this subject, which was received with much interest; it is

entitled “Ueber Paganini’s Kunst, die Violine zu spielen.”

JOSEPH MAYSEDER, a violinist of a high order, and, in a certain limited

line, an original composer of acknowledged merit, acquired a

considerable share of popularity in a comparatively short time. Residing

principally at showy and dazzling Vienna, where the present musical

taste does not conform, in point of solidity, to the accustomed German

standard, he exercised the peculiarities of his style with unchecked

freedom. As a composer, his ambition was generally to sparkle, and his

habit was nearly all gaiety, or, as one of our musical critics has

termed it, a tricksy _mixture_ of gaiety and melancholy. His writings,

full as they are of ingenuity, and containing much that cannot fail to

please, are chargeable with a somewhat too flimsy character, and with

too evident a tinge of what may be called the _coquetry_ of composition.

His playing, which was touched with the jerking manner observed in

Kiesewetter, was also distinguished by much brilliancy and great powers

of rapidity.

BERNHARD MOLIQUE, Concert-master to the Court, and second leader of the

orchestra to the Opera, at Stuttgard, was born at Nuremberg, Oct. 7,

1803. His father, a town musician, was his first master, and taught him

to play, not one, but many instruments; the violin was, however, that

which the young artist preferred, and on which his progress was most

rapid. At the age of fourteen, he was sent to Munich, and placed under

the direction of Rovelli, first Violin of the Chapel Royal. Two years

afterwards, he went to Vienna, where he obtained a place in the

orchestra of the theatre “An der Wien.” In 1820, he returned to Munich,

where, although but seventeen years of age, he succeeded his master,

Rovelli, as First Violin to the Court. During the two subsequent years,

Molique laboured to impart to his talent a graceful and energetic

character. In 1822, he found himself sufficiently advanced in his art to

be in a condition to travel, in the quality of artist, and give

performances in great cities. He obtained leave of absence, and visited

with good success, Leipzig, Dresden, Berlin, Hanover and Cassel.

In 1826, Molique was engaged at the Court of Stuttgard, as

Concert-Master. There he obtained renown for the development of a new

talent, the direction of an orchestra, in which post he was equally

remarkable for precision, sentiment, and accurate appreciation of the

slightest effects of instrumental colouring.

In 1836, M. Molique made a journey to Paris, and executed one of his

concertos for the violin, at the Concerts of the _Conservatoire_. The

journals which spoke of the effect of this composition, did justice to

its beauty: but, according to their account, the execution does not

appear to have produced upon the audience such an effect as ought to

have resulted from the talent of the artist. It has been a subject of

remark, that something of the same sort has happened in the case of most

of the violinists of the German School who have performed before

audiences at Paris; and that Spohr and Lipinski, who have had a great

reputation elsewhere, produced but little sensation in that city. Must

not the cause of this be sought in the diversity of national taste?—The

published works of M. Molique have for many years contributed to the

extension of his renown.

Vainly, oh, Pen! expectant here thou turn’st

To trace the doings of Teutonic ERNST—

To shew what praise he won, what hearts he moved,

What realms he traversed, and what trials proved.

Wanting the _records_ that should speak his fame,

Prose fails—and Verse, alas! but gives _his name_.

So, in life’s common round, when just aware

That one whom we have longed to _know_, is near—

To see him, hear him, _chat_ with him, prepared,

We find he’s gone, and has but _left his card_!

Under the German branch of our subject, as more analogous to that than

to any one of the others, may perhaps be most fitly presented some

particulars concerning the remarkable Norwegian artist, OLE (or OLAUS)

BULL, who, in 1836, came hither to dazzle and animate us, like a

coruscation from those “northern lights” that are often so conspicuous

in his own land. His advent to our shores was immediately preceded by a

visit to our lively neighbours on the southern side of the Channel. The

following sketch—of which the earlier and more picturesque portion is

chiefly derived from a French account, written by a medical professor

and musical amateur at Lyons—will furnish some idea of the powers and

peculiarities of this individual.

It chanced, on a certain day, during the time when the cholera was

ravaging the French capital, that one of the numerous diligences which

were then wont to make their return-journey in an almost empty state,

deposited, in the yard of a coach-office, a young northern traveller,

who came, after the example of so many others, to seek his fortune at

Paris. Scarcely arrived at his twentieth year, he had quitted his

family, his studies, and Norway, the land of his home, to give himself

wholly up to a passion which had held sway within him from his infancy.

The object of this pervading passion was music, and the violin. Deeply

seated, active, and irresistible, the bias had seized him when he

quitted his cradle, and had never ceased from its hold upon him. At six

years old, he would repeat, on a little common fiddle bought at a fair,

all the airs which he had heard sung around him, or played in the

streets: and, two years afterwards, he had astonished a society of

professional men, by playing at sight the first violin-part in a

quartett of Pleyel’s—though he had never taken a lesson in music, but

had found out his way entirely alone! Destined afterwards by his family

to the ecclesiastic life, and constrained to the studies which it

imposes, he had still kept his thoughts fixed on his beloved violin,

which was his friend, his companion, the central object of his

attachment. At the instance of his father, the study of the law became

subsequently his unwilling pursuit: and, at length, these struggles

ended in his yielding to the impulse of his love for the violin; and

banishing himself from Norway, in order to devote all his days to the

cultivation of music.

In the midst of a mourning city—a mere atom in the region of a

world—what is to become of the young artist? His imagination is rich,

but his purse is meagre: his whole resource lies in his violin—and yet

he has faith in it, even to the extent of looking for fortune and renown

through its means. Friendless and patronless, he comes forward to be

heard. At any other moment, his talent must have forced public attention

in his behalf; but, in those days of desolation, when death was

threatening every soul around, who could lend his ears to the charmer?

The young artist is left alone in his misery—yet not quite alone, for

his cherished violin remains like a friend to console him. The cup of

bitterness was soon, however, to be completely filled. One day, in

returning to his miserable apartment in an obscure lodging-house, he

found that the trunk, in which his last slender means were contained,

had disappeared. He turned his eyes to the spot where he had placed his

violin ... it was gone! This climax of disaster was too much for the

poor enthusiast, who wandered about for three days in the streets of

Paris, a prey to want and despair, and then—threw himself into the

Seine!

But the art which the young Norwegian was called to extend and to

embellish, was not fated to sustain so deplorable a loss. The hand of

some humane person rescued him from this situation. His next encounter

seemed like _another_ special interposition of Providence; for he became

the object of benevolent attention to a mother who had just lost her son

through the cholera, and who found in the young stranger so remarkable a

resemblance to him, that she received him into her house, and, though

possessed but of moderate means herself, furnished relief to his

necessities. The cholera, in the mean time, ceased its ravages, and

Paris resumed its habitual aspect. Supplied with bread and an asylum,

and soon afterwards with the loan of a violin, Ole Bull was again

enabled to gratify his devotion for music. By degrees his name began to

be heard, and he arrived at some small reputation. Thus encouraged, he

ventured the experiment of a Concert; and fortune smiled on him for the

first time, for he gained 1200 francs—a large sum, considering the

position in which he then was.

Possessed of this unexpected, and almost unhoped-for, little fortune, he

set out for Switzerland, and went thence into Italy.

At Bologna, where his first _great_ manifestation appears to have been

made, he had tried vainly to obtain an introduction to the public, until

accident accomplished what he had begun to despair of. Full of painful

emotion at the chilling repression which his simple, inartificial,

unfriended endeavours had been fated to meet with, he one day sat down

with the resolution to compose something; and it was partly amidst a

flow of obtrusive tears that his purpose was fulfilled. Taking up his

instrument, he proceeded to try the effect of the ideas he had just

called into life. At that moment, it chanced that Madame Rossini was

passing by the house in which his humble apartment was situated. The

impression made on her was such, that she spoke in emphatic terms upon

it to the director of a Philharmonic Society, who was in a critical

predicament, owing to some failure in a promise which had been made him

by De Beriot, and the syren, Malibran. Madame Rossini’s piece of

intelligence was a burst of light for the “Manager in distress:” he had

found his man. The artist was induced to play before the dilettanti of

Bologna, and his success was complete.

At Lucca, Florence, Milan, Rome, and Venice, the impression he made was

yet greater and more decisive. On each occasion, he was recalled several

times before the audience, and always hailed with the utmost enthusiasm.

At the Neapolitan theatre of _San Carlo_, he was summoned back by the

public no less than nine times—thrice after the performance of his first

piece, and six times at the end of the second. It was a perfect

_furore_.

Our Norwegian artist now revisited Paris, under happier auspices.

Welcomed and introduced with eager kindness by the composer of “Robert

le Diable,” he was several times listened to with delight on the stage

of the Opera, and obtained the greatest success that has been known

since the displays made by Paganini.

Opinions were not agreed as to the extent to which Ole Bull was to be

considered an imitator of Paganini. It appears certain that the example

of the latter first led him to attempt the more strange and remote

difficulties of the instrument. It was during the time of his distressed

condition, that he found means to hear the great Italian artist, by

actually selling his last shirt, with the produce of which he joined the

crowd in the saloon of the French Opera. Every one around him, after the

electrifying strains of the magical performer, was exclaiming that he

had reached the farthest limits of what was possible on the violin. Ole

Bull (says the writer of the French account), after applauding like the

rest, retired in thoughtful mood, having just caught the notion that

something beyond this was yet possible; nor did the idea cease to occupy

his mind, but gathered fresh strength during his rambles in Switzerland

and Italy, until it impelled him, at Trieste, to abandon the old track,

and resign himself to the dictates of his own genius.

In justice to Paganini, it must never be forgotten that _he_ was the

first who, in modern days, conceived the principle of its being possible

to extract a variety of new _effects_ from the versatile instrument that

had been supposed to have surrendered all its secrets to the great

antecedent Masters; and that his practice lent marvellous illustration

to what he proceeded, under that impulse, to explain;—nor does the

supremacy of Paganini in the _nouveau genre_, for the reasons previously

touched upon in these pages, seem likely to be seriously shaken by _any_

who may seek the encounter of a comparison. It may certainly be averred,

however, that, of all who have attempted to follow in the direction

taken by the great Genoese genius, Ole Bull has been, owing to the fire

and enthusiasm of his own temperament, decidedly the farthest removed

from servility of imitation. It speaks much for the originality of the

Norwegian artist, that, in the early practice of his instrument, instead

of a fostering excitement, he had to encounter the decided opposition of

adverse views; and, instead of the open aid of a master, had only for

his guide the secret impulses of his own mind. On the whole, he must be

acknowledged a man of fine genius, who forced his way through no common

difficulties to a distinguished rank in the musical art, and who

presents, to the contemplation of the persevering student, one of the

most cheering of those examples which the history of human struggles in

pursuit of some absorbing object is so useful to enforce. It must add

not a little to our admiration of him, to find that, in the mysteries of

composition, he has discovered and shaped his own course. The ingenuity

of construction evident in the orchestral accompaniments to his pieces,

would suggest a methodical study of the harmonic art: yet it was said,

on the contrary, that he was quite unacquainted with even the elementary

rules of that art; and that it would have puzzled him to tell the

conventional name of any one chord. How then did he arrive at the power

of writing music in parts? He opened a score, studied it, thought over

it, made a relative examination of its parts after his own way, and

then, setting to work, as the result of this progress, became a composer

himself. In the character of his compositions, we may trace the effect

of this unusual and (it must be confessed) somewhat too self-dependent

“moyen de parvenir.” They are impulsive and striking—enriched with

occasional passages of fine instrumentation, and touched with sweet

visitations of melody—but they are deficient in coherence of structure,

and in the comprehensiveness of a well-ordered design. They may serve as

fresh examples to illustrate the old maxim—that genius itself cannot

with safety neglect that ordinary discipline which gives familiarity

with the rules and methods of art.

The most surprising thing (amounting indeed to an enigma), in connection

with Ole Bull’s powers of execution, was the very small amount of manual

practice which he stated himself to have been in the habit of bestowing

on the instrument—a thing quite at variance with all the received

notions, as well as usage, on the subject. His labour was, it appears,

in by far the greater part, that of the head; and a very limited

application of the hands sufficed to “carry out” what he ex-cogitated—to

work out his purposes and “foregone conclusions.” It sounds nobly, as a

proposition, that it is “the mind’s eye,” and not the blind gropings of

practice, that should shew the violinist the way to greatness, and give

him the knowledge which is power: but, alas! common natures—nay, all

that are not marvellously _un_common—find it necessary to draw to the

utmost on both these resources, and cannot spare their hands from the

neck of the instrument. This comparatively trifling amount of manual

cultivation, however, while it remains on the whole “a marvel and a

mystery,” may be accepted as a proof in itself of how little trick

(setting aside his extravagant “quartett on _one_ string”) there was in

Ole Bull’s performance: for the successful display of tricks is

essentially dependent on the most assiduous manipulation;—the

_charlatanerie_ of the instrument being the triumph of the hand, as

distinguished from that of the mind. To particularize the various merits

which belong to his execution, would lead beyond the limit here

proposed—else might his sweet and pure tone—his delicate harmonics—his

frequent and winning _duplicity_ of notes and shakes—his rapid and exact

_staccato_, &c. be severally dwelt upon in terms of delight.—I cannot

forbear referring, however, to the “ravishing division” of his

consummate _arpeggios_, forming a finely regulated shower of notes,

rich, round, and most distinct, although wrought out by such slight

undulations of the bow, as to leave in something like a puzzle our

notions of cause and consequence. To suit the wide range of effects

which his fancy sometimes dictated, it appears (another marvel!) that he

subjected his violin to some kind of _alterative_ process; for which

purpose he would open it (to use his own expression) like an oyster!

The manners and conversation of this young artist, at the time when he

was exciting attention in England, bore an impress of genius which it

was impossible to mistake; and his occasional sallies of enthusiasm

served to impart an increased interest to the abiding modesty which

tempered and dignified his character. In describing the state of his own

mind, under the immediate domination of musical ideas, he pictured it

under the forcible figure of an alternate heaven and hell; while he

would speak of the object and intention of his playing as being to

_raise a curtain_, for the admission of those around him, as

participants in the mysteries open to himself. In his habits, he was

very temperate—wisely avoiding to wear out, by artificial excitements,

the spontaneous ardour of his eminently vital temperament.

All the ordinary arts and intrigues by which it is so common, and is

sometimes thought so necessary, for men to seek professional

advancement, seemed completely alien to the nature of this child of the

north. In person, he was tall, with a spare but muscular figure, light

hair, a pale countenance, and a quick, restless eye, which became

extremely animated whilst he was in the act of playing. When I add that

he entertained an invincible antipathy to _cats_—exhibiting unequivocal

signs of distress whenever one of those sleek and sly animals was

discovered in the social circle—I shall have furnished all the

information I am able to give (his latter career being unknown to me)

concerning a man well entitled to commemoration.

* * * * *

Before concluding this chapter, a few words of record are due to the two

sons of one of the most gifted musicians of the present day. I allude to

the associate brothers LABITSKY, who, after a training in the Musical

Conservatory at Prague, and subsequent studies prosecuted at Leipsig,

have become candidates for public favour in England, where (for the

present, at least) they appear to be settled. Their first appeal to

notice in this country took place at Her Majesty’s Theatre, during the

progress of the late Grand National Concerts. Their style is said to be

characterized by firmness and evenness in the bowing, with a

correspondent fulness and purity of intonation.

CHAPTER VI.

THE ENGLISH SCHOOL.

... a _crescent_; and my auguring hope

Says it will come to the full.—SHAKSPEARE.

Climate, and the national habits of life, have in England presented no

light obstacles to the progress and well-being of the musical art, as

collectively regarded. The fogs and lazy vapours that so oft obscure, in

our dear country, the genial face of the sun, must needs check and chill

our animal spirits, and beat back into the heart the feelings that else

would seek fellowship with the ear, by uttering the language of sweet

sounds. The eager pursuit of business, on the other hand—the continuity

of _action_, rigorously self-imposed, in order to satisfy both our

material wants and our ambition—leaves us little opportunity—even when

our sky and our land are _not_ mutually frowning and exchanging sullen

looks—for the liberation and development of our half-stifled musical

impulses. The consequence of this two-fold opposition is—in

multitudinous instances—that the music which is _in_ us, comes not

_out_; and hence it happens that we are too often suspected, by

foreigners, of organic deficiency in this matter, and too often induced

to doubt of ourselves. With the luxurious climate, however, and the

leisurely life, that combine to make the people of _Italy_ as vocal as

grasshoppers, _we_, too, should burst forth into the raptures of song,

and overflow with melodial honey;—_so_ at least I venture to believe,

when I think of our stock, actually _hived_, in the way of _glees_ and

_ballads_—a not contemptible little store.

The Violin Some Account of That Leading Instrument and Its Most Eminent Professors, from Its Earliest Date to the Present Time; with Hints to Amateurs, Anecdotes, etc. · 第 13 / 16 章

F. HIPPOLITE BARTHÉLÉMON, a fine performer of the old school, was born