1865-1883.
I went to Munich and found Wagner considerably depressed. “Tristan,” the
work he evidently loved with no ordinary affection, had, after seven
years of hoping against hope, but just been performed to his intense
satisfaction, when the ideal impersonator dies. The happiness he had
recently felt at the three “Tristan” performances, coupled with the
publication of the piano scores of the “Walküre” and “Tristan” had, to
an extent, kept his mind free. These events passed, and his friends
departed, he fell into a desponding mood. Minna, his wife, was not
there. This was a constant irritation to him. He affected to care
nothing about it, but his references to her absence showed how it
annoyed and preyed upon him. Then was he placed in delicate relations
with the young king of Bavaria. Louis constituted Wagner his
adviser--his Mentor. Questions of state were submitted to him. The
king’s personal advisers were aware of this, and resented it. Wagner
knew of the intrigues against him. He sincerely yearned for quietude;
all the more because he instinctively felt the coming storm. He showed
me all the letters that his royal devotee had written to him, and this I
can testify, that breathing as they did the fervid adoration of a
cultured, highly gifted youth for a genius, Wagner on his side felt no
less intense admiration and affection for the “god-like” king. So great
was the influence it was assumed Wagner possessed over the monarch, that
his good-will was sought by all classes of petitioners for the royal
favour.
The house inhabited by Richard Wagner was detached, an uncommon thing
for houses in Germany. It had been built, he told me, by an Englishman,
and now that he could command practically “unlimited means,” he did not
restrict his wants. I may say he positively revelled in his grandeur
like a boy. His taste in arranging his house once again provoked the
hostile comments of an ever-ready opposition press. As I have before
remarked, this charge of Oriental luxury was a stock one with some
people. Even now, his velvet coat and biretta are made the subject of
puerile attacks; but I cannot refrain from stating that Richard Wagner’s
house and decorations are far surpassed by the luxuriously appointed
palaces of certain English painters, musicians, and dramatic poetasters.
Wagner was fond of velvets and satins, and he knew how best to display
them. The arrangements in the house, too, showed the unmistakable
guiding of a woman. Madame von Bülow acted as a sort of secretary to
Wagner. Wagner was a prolific correspondent, but during the early
portion of the summer, he had, it seems, been busy finishing the score
of the second act of “Siegfried.”
[Sidenote: _WAGNER A BORN ACTOR._]
Wagner laid bare his hopes and wishes to me. He merits eulogy for his
fearlessness. With that trait I was particularly struck. In relating the
subject of a certain interview with the king, I was of opinion he had
been too blunt of speech, too outspoken in his criticism, and I asked
what would he do were he to lose the royal favour, remembering how dark
and mournful had been his days at the moment the king sought him out.
His reply startled me. “I have lived before without the king, and I can
do so again.” Honour to Wagner! He was fearless here as he was in his
music--no concessions to false art.
A born actor Wagner? Certainly. Out together one day he related to me
the story of his climbing the Urirothstock in company with a young
friend. Some distance up the mountain, his companion, who was following,
exclaimed he was giddy and falling, upon which Wagner turned round on
the ledge of rock, caught his friend, and passed him between the rock
and himself to the front. The scene was reproduced very graphically. His
presence of mind never left him. Truly, Wagner was born to teach actors.
I found that the same boyish love of fun remained with Wagner. He dearly
loved a joke, a good story, a witty anecdote. Many did he tell me. Even
when I was leaving Munich, his stories came out, so that on saying
good-bye, he added, “Well, we have had some discomforts, but a good many
jokes.”
Towards the end of the year the intrigues of his opponents proved too
strong for him. He left Bavaria; but I will give some few extracts from
his next letter, which will tell the history in his own way. It is
dated--
CAMPAGNE AUX ARTICHAUX.
...The stories you read in the papers of my flying the country are
wholly untrue. The king did nothing of the kind. He _implored_ me
to leave; said my life was in danger; that the director of the
police had represented to him the positive necessity for my
quitting Munich, or he could not guarantee my safety. Think, so
greatly did he fear the populace! The populace opposed to me? No;
not if they knew me. My return, I am told, is only a question of
time; until the king is able to change his advisers. May he come
out of his troubles well....
Yours,
RICHARD WAGNER.
GENEVA, 1866.
The next letter of interest is dated nearly six months later. It shows
that Wagner and the king did not then always get on well together.
MUNICH, June, 1867.
MY GOOD FERDINAND: I will keep my promise about August. He is here.
I will see to it, but there are so many obstacles. The king is
influenced by innumerable enemies, who are jealous of me, and
angered at my influence with him. I have, indeed, almost broken off
our relations, only the scandal would be too great!
“Lohengrin” and “Tannhäuser” were to be produced with the best
artists and dresses. I was anxious to have Tichatschek as
Lohengrin. He had, however, been singing elsewhere, in
“Masaniello,” so that he was hoarse. The _entourage_ of the king
seemed to have conceived a thorough dislike of Tichatschek. But
what is more true, they were, I am convinced, desirous of
preventing my appearing with the king at the performance, because
they feared a demonstration.
After the last rehearsal, a few days ago, the king, who was
present, sent for me. Tichatschek had displeased him, and he
asserted he would never again attend a performance or rehearsal in
which that singer took part. As this dislike referred only to the
stiff acting of Tichatschek (for he had sung splendidly), I felt
that the king’s enthusiasm inclined to the spectacular, and where
this was defective, he could not elsewhere find compensation. But
now comes the outrage. Without consulting me, he ordered
Tichatschek and the “Ortrud” to be sent away. I was, and am,
furious, and forthwith mean to quit Munich. Now you know the
situation, you will understand the impossibility of doing anything
at present.
Yours,
RICHARD WAGNER.
[Sidenote: _THE MARRIAGE WITH COSIMA._]
Nothing came of the promise to help Roeckel, though Wagner and the king
were soon reconciled. Roeckel became editor of a democratic newspaper,
ceasing all active participation in the musical world. The friendship of
Louis grew stronger, if that were possible, and Wagner shows by his
letters that he was quite “the guide, philosopher, and friend” of the
young monarch. Of his communications to me during the next year, I
select the following short note, as possessing a wider interest than a
merely personal communication.
DEAR OLD FRIEND: The 21st June first performance of the
“Meistersinger” (model). On the 25th the second, and repetition of
it up to about the 20th July. Now see whether you can catch
something of it. It will be worth while, and will give me great joy
when you come. Many hearty greetings.
From yours,
RICHARD WAGNER.
MUNICH, at Bülows, 11 Arcos Strasse, 11th June, 1868.
As the above note shows, Wagner was living in Bülow’s house. I purposely
pass over the next two years. Events were coming to a climax. He and I
did not agree; but still his friendship never waned or abated one jot.
Meanwhile his wife, Minna, had died at Dresden. The two following notes
tell their own tale. The first is but a very short communication of what
the world had foreseen; the second was the printed card announcing his
second marriage, which I presume was sent to all his friends.
CENTER
(1)
MY DEAR FERDINAND: You will be no doubt angry with me when you hear
that I am soon to marry Bülow’s wife, who has become a convert in
order to be divorced.
Yours,
RICHARD WAGNER.
JULY, 1870.
CENTER
(2)
We have the honour to announce our marriage, which took place on
the 25th August of this year, at the Protestant Church of Lucerne.
RICHARD WAGNER,
COSIMA WAGNER, _née_ LISZT.
25TH AUGUST, 1870.
In the following November Wagner wrote to me again. It was the first of
a series of letters relative to the purchase of a costly edition of
Shakespeare, in English, as a birthday present to Madame Wagner. I
publish six of these. They show Wagner by the fireside, at home with
wife and children. Nearly sixty, with the close of his life almost in
sight, he first bathes in that unspeakable happiness--the presence of
children constantly about him, ready to receive the pent-up affection of
half a century. It seems to me that his state of mind will be best
understood by a few words, taken from the closing paragraph of his
letter of the 25th November, 1870: “God make every one happy. Amen!”
(1)
[Sidenote: “_A SPLENDID SON._”]
DEAR OLD ONE: If you are still alive, and not angry with me for
various reasons, you could do me a right good service. I should
like to make a present to my wife (you know the deep, serious
happiness that has been mine) on her birthday, which falls just on
Christmas Eve,--a present of one of the most beautiful editions of
Shakespeare in English. I do not so much want one of those editions
with a voluminous appendix of critical notes as a really luxurious
edition of the text. If such an edition de luxe is only published
with notes, and so forth, well, then I will have that. I know that
in this respect the English have achieved something extraordinary,
and it is just one of their grand editions I should like to
possess. Further, it must be encased in a truly magnificent
binding, and of the greatest beauty. All this, I feel sure, can
only be obtained for certain in London. Now be so good as to occupy
yourself in the most friendly manner for me. Deem me worthy of a
response and a note of the price, that we may arrange everything,
and I will forthwith send you the necessary funds.
How are you all at home? I hear that the English are making
colossal profits by the war. I hope something of the good may fall
to you. Your last letter coming after such a long time was a
delightful surprise, and has given me much joy, for I perceive in
it that you still are actively employed. Often do I now think of
you because of your love for children. My house, too, is full of
children, the children of my wife, but beside there blooms for me a
splendid son, strong and beautiful, whom I dare call _Siegfried
Richard Wagner_. Now think what I must feel, that this at last has
fallen to my share. I am fifty-seven years old.
Be most fondly greeted.
From your
RICHARD WAGNER.
LUCERNE, 11 November, 1870.
(In pencil on the last page of the letter.)
Perhaps the director of the theatre might make me a present of a
copy of Shakespeare.
(2)
When Ferdinand in pious rage,
The Moors afar did chase!
Therefore, thou most excellent good one, quick to business!
Your recommendation seems to point to the Cambridge edition of
Dyce. You say that the cost will be about three guineas (_i.e._ £3.
3_s._) therefore--let us stop at Dyce’s--this Cambridge edition.
But you do not tell me, however, whether it is one volume or in
several. Further, how am I to decide about the binding? I know that
in London bookbinding is treated as an art, and I would much like
to have a good specimen of London art work for my wife (for I
cannot present her with anything else). Acting upon the hypothesis
that it is in one volume only, I have forwarded to you six pounds
for disposal upon the work, and therefore three pounds less three
shillings will be available for the binding. Should there be two
volumes, then you must consider whether for the money you can still
obtain something remarkably good. If not--then order unhesitatingly
what is good, and write to me at once and I will send you a few
pounds more immediately. The chief point to be kept in view is that
you arrange with the bookbinder so as to have the work finished in
time to enable me to present it here on Christmas Eve.
But now, above all, be not angry with me for thus earnestly
importuning you. If you but think of Milton Street and Portland
Terrace, lobster salad, punch, and Lüders, then shall I be
pardoned. And lastly will come your good wife to the rescue, who,
notwithstanding that she, as I see, has still little children, may
yet have some kind remembrance for me.
I am glad that you write to me about yourself in full; one cannot
do anything better than write about one’s self to one’s friends,
for the more one reflects the less one seems to know of others.
According to this, I ought to write a great deal about myself, but
that I must defer for an ocular inspection by you; therefore, come
and see me. My son is Helferich Siegfried Richard. My son! Oh, what
that says to me!
_You_ have plenty of children’s prattle, are used to it like the
English to hanging, but with me the hanging is only just beginning.
Now I must prepare to live to a good old age, for then will others
profit by it. Outside my home life, one thing only do I propose to
accomplish, and that, the performance of my “Nibelungen” drama as I
have conceived it. It appears to me that the whole German Empire is
only created to aid me in attaining my object. Carlyle’s letter in
the “Times” has caused me intense satisfaction. The Messieurs
Englishmen I have already learned to know through you. I need but
refer to divers data I have from you to be at once clear about the
character of this strangely ragged nation.
God make every one happy. Amen! Now greet mamma and children, and
tell them of Milton Street. Come next summer into Switzerland and
keep me in your heart as I do you.
Yours,
RICHARD WAGNER.
LUCERNE, 25th November, 1870.
[Sidenote: _HIS IDEA OF SHAKESPEARE._]
(3)
MY GOOD FERDINAND: Is it not too bad that I am still to give you so
much trouble? I thought there must be, especially in London, a
central depot where one could quickly be informed about the most
complicated matters of all kinds. Does there not exist, _i.e._ in
Regent Street, or in some other main thoroughfare, a bookseller who
keeps on hand a stock of editions de luxe of celebrated authors, in
elegant and costly bindings, ready for sale for certain festive
occasions? Certainly it would have been better could you have
alighted upon such an edition of “Shakespeare” already bound. That
a bookbinder would now undertake such a task, I myself feel it is
somewhat venturesome to hope. But as you are such a good fellow I
leave the whole business entirely in your hands. Do not let the
price frighten you, for when it is a question of a birthday gift
for such a noble, dear woman, then, in honour of Shakespeare, one
may afford to be liberal. Yet on this occasion, I insist that the
external must be the pre-eminent consideration, the thing to be
first thought of, viz. beautiful, correct print on beautiful paper,
artistic binding, and--the internal Shakespeare supplies himself;
but do not trouble at all about the critical notes of English
editors.
As the time is now very close upon us, it would be best if you
could still discover, all ready and complete, a luxurious book, in
a luxurious shop, in a luxurious binding; for the rest--go on! I am
not sending you any further money to-day, as I want to leave the
matter entirely in your hands. How much more I am to send you we
will arrange later on.
Adieu for to-day!
Good old fellow!
Make sure that we see you next summer here!
Don’t be melancholy, and keep me in your love.
Yours,
RICHARD WAGNER.
LUCERNE, 9th December, 1870.
(Herewith the addresses of the London banker: nice fellows those!!)
(4)
DEAR GOOD PRAEGER: Ah, now all is right, and the trouble at an end.
You will have seen by my last letter that it seemed to me our only
hope lay in finding an edition de luxe ready bound. That this
should have been in nine volumes, though not precisely an edition
de luxe, is satisfactory; therefore, have you acted most
blamelessly and correctly. Instead of having to transmit to you
further subsidies, you tell me there is even a balance at my
disposition. Now I have cudgelled my brains as to what can be
purchased with the remaining twelve shillings. In this matter it
will depend on the patience and perseverance of your wife, should
she see some pretty trifling _article-de-mode_ to put on the
Christmas table, where it might look well, perhaps. My wife has
spoken to me about, and would like, if possible, an East India, or
even Chinese, foulard dress, rich, highly-coloured patterns on
satin ground, brilliant and luxurious, _i.e._ Orientally fantastic,
such as is sure to be found in London. Now if your good wife would
be kind enough to look to this, and should it not go into the
abnormal in cost, of which, naturally, there is no intention, since
the proposed costume is not to serve for ostentation, but for the
gratification of a fantastic taste, I would beg of you to make bold
and send me about twenty metres of such a material, and to send it
off at once. The settlement of the transaction on my side would
follow immediately. I do not restrict the price, as that might
hamper you; but on the other hand, I beg you to understand that, in
case it is really something beautiful and original, Oriental, do
not stop at the price. Only in respect of the design, I remember
there must be no figures, nothing but flowers--that much do I
remember. God knows to what new trouble I am putting you again.
Don’t take it too seriously, but remain good to me, for this is the
most important of your business.
Heart greetings to all of you, from yours,
RICHARD WAGNER.
LUCERNE, 11th December, 1870.
(5)
[Sidenote: _PREPARING FOR “DER RING.”_]
DEAR OLD FRIEND: Yes, yes! so it is, and I have neglected to inform
you that “Shakespeare” rightly and well came into my hands. It
arrived somewhat late, but for the efforts on your part to fully
gratify me I give you my thanks. Altogether I am sorry I did not
pay more thought to the gigantic proportions of London business,
as I feel by that I have unknowingly thrown upon you a lot of
trouble in this affair. But now that everything has turned out
well, I thank you once more, and promise not to trouble you again
with such commissions. I write to you in haste, as I am preparing
for a journey; to-morrow I go with my wife into Germany, where I
propose to try and discover how matters stand. Several things are
in preparation, but all tend to one good, that is, the performance
of the “Nibelung” _after my own way_. Leipzic, Dresden, and above
all, Berlin, will be visited by me. In Berlin, where they have made
me a member of the Academy, I shall deliver a discourse on the
mission of the opera, etc.
I will send to you the “Kaisermarsch,” and all else that comes out.
Now look to it that you pay me a visit next summer in our beautiful
retreat. By the middle of May we shall have returned.
And now, farewell!
Be not angry with me!
Greet wife and children, and keep loving
Your faithful friend,
RICHARD WAGNER.
LUCERNE, April, 1871.
(6)
LEIPZIG, 12th May, 1871.
This I have carried about with me on a long journey, for, when I
wanted to send it from Lucerne, I found I had mislaid your address.
It is fortunate that in your last letter, sent after me from
Lucerne, and which has just reached me, I have once again your
address.
I am fatigued, and I return to-morrow.
As regards the proposals and offer of the English music-sellers, I
would beg you to request them to address in the matter, Tausig,
Dessauer Strasse 35, Berlin. He has urged me to let him manage many
things in which I am always worsted. He will arrange with the
publishers, O. F. Peters, music bureau, in a manner that I shall
derive all possible advantage. Else, dearest, I am well, and my
undertaking bodes well for a success.
Best greetings to wife and children.
Love me, and forever yours,
RICHARD WAGNER.
Then came the following:--
DEAREST: Come when you will! Alas, everybody comes in the few weeks
of the summer, and it is possible that you will find visitors
already when you come. In the quiet time not even a cock crows
after you, but you will find your place prepared for you; only,
therefore, to our next meeting.
Yours,
RICHARD WAGNER.
LUCERNE, TRIBSCHEN, 6th June, 1871.
[Sidenote: _STANDING ON HIS HEAD._]
In the summer I went to stay with Wagner. How changed! Fifty-eight years
old, and yet but one year in the possession of what is called home. His
had been a roving life. Not through choice, but necessity. Energetic and
persevering, never leaving a stone unturned or failing in an effort to
preach his creed. And so through the long years of early manhood and
middle age had he struggled with adversity, never finding an abiding
resting-place. But the sunset of his life was setting in rich, warm
colours. A feeling of serenity, born of the conscious security from
worldly anxieties, had taken possession of him. His work had been
acknowledged throughout Europe. He was ambitious, and his soul was
satisfied. Now was he for the first time living in that warm-hearted,
self-denying atmosphere of “home,” where dwelt a remarkably cultured,
intellectual wife and children. _There_ “bloomed for him a splendid son,
strong and beautiful.” Yes; he was happy. His naturally buoyant
temperament had not lessened with years. I remember full well, one day
when we were sitting together in the drawing-room at Tribschen, on a
sort of ottoman, talking over the events of the years gone by, when he
suddenly rose and stood on his head upon the ottoman. At the very
moment he was in that inverted position the door opened and Madame
Wagner entered. Her surprise and alarm were great, and she hastened
forward, exclaiming, “Ah! lieber Richard! Richard!” Quickly recovering
himself, he reassured her of his sanity, explaining that he was only
showing Ferdinand he could stand on his head at sixty, which was more
than the said Ferdinand could do. This was a ridiculous incident, but
strikingly illustrative of the “Wagner as I knew him.” I suppose there
are few thinking people who will deny the seriousness and profundity of
Wagner’s mind, and that perhaps in earnestness of purpose and power of
reflection, he may be said to have been the equal of Carlyle; yet who
can picture the “sage of Chelsea” standing on his head at sixty, or
indeed at any period of his life?
Wagner’s tranquillity of mind was delightful to contemplate. He longed
for “peace on earth and good will to all men.” The desire of his heart,
the dream of those early Dresden days, was about to be realized. A
theatre constructed after his own theory was soon to be erected. The
architect and engineer, Neumann and Brandt, came to Lucerne during my
visit. I was privileged to be present at their discussions. It was
another illustration of “to have a clear notion of what you want is
half-way to get it.” “The theatre must be so built that it can be
emptied in the space of one or two minutes”; upon this Wagner insisted.
Did the experts explain some detail to him it was marvellous to see how
quickly he grasped the point and debated it with them. His heart was in
his work, in this as in all he did, and there lay the secret of his
success, for of this I am convinced, that without his indomitable will,
that untiring perseverance which would not be conquered, the genius of
Wagner would have availed him but little.
In writing of “Wagner as I knew him” I have touched upon certain
subjects and criticised him in a manner which I am aware many of his
worshippers might perhaps shrink from. But in this I have in no way
offended Wagner. He wished to be known as he was. Indeed, he has written
his own life, which, should it please the Wagner heirs, may one day be
given to the world to its great gain. I became aware of the existence of
this autobiography in the following manner. Wagner and his wife were
going out, leaving me alone at Tribschen. Before going, Wagner placed in
my hands a volume for my perusal during his absence. “It is my
autobiography,” he said. “Only Liszt has a copy; none other has seen it,
and it shall not be published until my Siegfried has reached his
majority.” I read it carefully, and I may state, without touching upon
any of the matter contained therein, that in my treatment of Wagner I
have not uttered one word to which he himself would not have subscribed.
To see Wagner surrounded by children was a pleasant sight. He was as
frolicsome as they. He would have the children sing the “Kaisermarsch”
at the piano, and reward them with coins. As regards their discipline
and training, he effaced himself completely before Madame Wagner. To his
wife he showed the tenderest affection. It might almost be said of him
that he was the most uxorious of husbands.
[Sidenote: _LISZT “BEGAN TOO LATE.”_]
No matter the mood in which I found Wagner, it was always the old
Wagner. Did we set out for a stroll, he would take me into some wayside
inn, there to eat sausages and drink beer. I must add that his drinking
was of the most moderate description. It was during one of these rambles
that we spoke of Liszt, and in the talking, he told me that Liszt had
been more pained at his daughter Cosima’s change of religion from Roman
Catholic to Protestant, than at her divorce from von Bülow. Among other
things, too, he said, speaking of Liszt as a composer, that “he [Liszt]
had begun too late in life.”
To me Wagner was all affection. He played to me, showed me everything
received from the king (among the many presents were two handsome vases,
the equivalent of which in money Wagner said he would have preferred),
and did all that he could to make my stay agreeable. I did not stay the
whole time I had purposed; I left somewhat unexpectedly. My departure
brought the following letter from Wagner:--
Thou strangest of all men, why do you not give a sign of life? Is
it right or just? After having lived among us, as one of us, to
have left us so suddenly, and not without causing us some anxiety,
too, on your behalf. How wrong if you were in a dissatisfied mood
with us; but that cannot be; rather be convinced that we take the
most hearty interest in you, and that this is the sole reason which
induces me to make this inquiry.
Let me hear from you, and be heartily greeted.
From yours ever,
RICHARD WAGNER.
From now to the day of his death I have but little to tell. He had
arrived at a time when the world accepted him as one of its great men.
His movements were chronicled in the press as though he were some
minister of state. I saw him repeatedly since 1872, notably at the
opening of the Bayreuth theatre in 1874, and at the succeeding
representations there, and naturally on his coming to London for the
Albert Hall Wagner Festival in 1877, when at the banquet given at the
Cannon Street Hotel in his honour, he toasted me as the friend, “the
first in this country to nobly support him,” at a time when he was a
stranger in the land and the target of hostile criticism. Later on, I
saw him again at the “Parsifal” performances at Bayreuth, which proved
to be for the last time.
My task is done.
Wagner’s labours ceased at Venice on the 13th February, 1883. What he
has accomplished is beyond the power of any man to destroy. Were Wagner
himself to return to us, _he_ could not undo what he has done. In future
years, aye, in future centuries, men will come from all parts of the
civilized globe to worship at Bayreuth; that is the Mecca of musicians.
There is the shrine of the founder of a new religion in art, pure and
ennobling to all who have ears to hear and human hearts that can be
touched. To use an old metaphor, but accurate and appropriate when
applied to Wagner, his work is as the boundless ocean; many will sail
their craft upon it, from the majestic ship of tragedy to the winsome
bark of comic opera, and then shall they not have navigated all the
seas.
[Sidenote: _HIS EARNESTNESS OF PURPOSE._]
The key of Wagner’s success is his truth. Look at his work from
whichever side we may, that is it which ever finds its way into all
hearts. While the musicians were, and some still are, engaged in the
dissecting-room, with a bar here and bar there, with the people, the
laymen, he is universally popular. And what is the cause? His truth, his
earnestness. At bottom, it is this sincerity which has made him great.
Speaking of the laymen, I am forcibly reminded of perhaps the most
musically gifted and most devoted of all, one Julius Cyriax, a German
merchant of the city of London, whose friendship Wagner contracted here
in 1877, and with whom Wagner was in intimate correspondence down to the
last.
And if this be the judgment passed upon his work, what shall be said of
the character of the man? Without fear, I say earnestness of purpose
guided him here too; that he was impatient of incompetence when it
sought to pose as the true in art was, and is, natural in a great
genius. Autocratic in bearing, and the intimate of a king, though
democratic in music and a professed lover of the _demos_ in his earlier
career, this is but a seeming contradiction. Democratic describes his
music; no domineering there of one voice; and democratic, too, in the
last days, when he refused imperial distinctions, preferring to remain
one of the people. An opponent in art, he was to be dreaded. Why?
Because he fought for his cause with such a whole-heartedness that he
drove, as Napoleon used to say, “fear into the enemy’s camp.” His
memory, like that of all great men, was extremely retentive. He was a
hard worker, as his eleven published volumes of literary matter and
fourteen music-dramas abundantly testify. To accomplish such work was
only possible to a man of method, and he _was_ methodical and careful
withal in what he did. Look at his handwriting and music notation, small
but clear, neat and clean. He was not free from blemish or
prejudice,--who is?--but
Take him all in all,
We ne’er shall look upon his like again.
Typography by J. S. Cushing & Co., Boston.
* * * * *
THE STORY OF MUSIC.
BY W. J. HENDERSON.
_12mo, Ornamental Cloth Cover, $1.25._
“Mr. Henderson tells in a clear, comprehensive, and logical way the
story of the growth of modern music. The work is prefixed by a
newly-prepared chronological table, which will be found invaluable by
musical students, and which contains many dates and notes of important
events that are not further mentioned in the text.... Few contemporary
writers on music have a more agreeable style, and few, even among the
renowned and profound Germans, a firmer grasp of the subject. The book,
moreover, will be valuable to the student for its references, which form
a guide to the best literature of music in all languages. The story of
the development of religious music, a subject that is too often made
forbidding and uninteresting to the general reader, is here related so
simply as to interest and instruct any reader, whether or not he has a
thorough knowledge of harmonics and an intimate acquaintance with the
estimable dominant and the deplorable consecutive fifths. The chapter on
instruments and instrumental forms is valuable for exactly the same
reasons.”--NEW YORK TIMES.
“It is a pleasure to open a new book and discover on its first page that
the clearness and simple beauty of its typography has a harmony in the
clearness, directness, and restful finish of the writer’s style.... Mr.
Henderson has accomplished, with rare judgment and skill, the task of
telling the story of the growth of the art of music without encumbering
his pages with excess of biographical material. He has aimed at a
connected recital, and, for its sake, has treated of creative epochs and
epoch-making works, rather than groups of composers segregated by the
accidents of time and space.... Admirable for its succinctness,
clearness, and gracefulness of statement.”--NEW YORK TRIBUNE.
“The work is both statistical and narrative, and its special design is
to give a detailed and comprehensive history of the various steps in the
development of music as an art. There is a very valuable chronological
table, which presents important dates that could not otherwise be well
introduced into the book. The choice style in which this book is written
lends its added charms to a work most important on the literary as well
as on the artistic side of music.”--BOSTON TRAVELLER.
LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 15 East 16th Street, New York.
* * * * *
PRELUDES AND STUDIES.
_MUSICAL THEMES OF THE DAY._
BY W. J. HENDERSON,
Author of “The Story of Music.”
_12mo, Cloth, Extra, Guilt Top, $1.25._
“The questions which he handles are all living. Even the purely
historical lectures which he has grouped together under the general head
of “The Evolution of Piano Music,” are informed with freshness and
contemporaneous interest by the manner which he has chosen for their
treatment.... The concluding chapter of the book is an essay designed to
win appreciation for Schumann, ... and is the gem of the book both in
thought and expression.”--NEW YORK TRIBUNE.
“Leaving Wagner, of whom the book treats in a most interesting way, the
evolution of piano music is taken up and treated in such a way as to
convince one that the writer is a master of his subject. Mr. Henderson
dwells on the performances of some living players, their methods,
manner, etc., and closes his work with a number on Schumann and the
programme symphony.”--DETROIT SUNDAY NEWS.
“The book is written by one who knows his subject thoroughly and is made
interesting to the general public as well as to those who are learned in
music.”--BOSTON POST.
“All lovers and students of music will find much to appreciate.... Mr.
Henderson writes charmingly of his various subjects--sympathetically,
critically, and keenly. He shows a sincere love for his themes, and
study of them; yet he is never pedantic, a virtue to be appreciated in a
writer of essays upon any department of art.”--BOSTON TIMES.
“Mr. Henderson’s clear style is well known to readers of the musical
criticism of the New York Times, and his catholicity of sentiment, and
freedom from prejudice, ... though this volume will be especially
valuable to the student of music, it will be helpful to the amateur, and
can be read with satisfaction by one ignorant of music, which,
altogether, is surely high praise.”--PROVIDENCE SUNDAY JOURNAL.
“It is a volume of extremely suggestive musical studies.... They are all
full of appreciative comment, and show considerable clear insight into
the origin and nature of musical works. The author has a style which is
adapted to exposition. The book is an attractive one for the lover of
music.”--PUBLIC OPINION.
“Mr. Henderson studies carefully and intelligently the evolution of
piano music and Schumann’s relation to the development of the programme
symphony. This is a suggestive, original, and well-equipped group of
essays upon themes which interest musicians.”--LITERARY WORLD.
LONGMANS, GREEN, & CO., 15 East 16th Street, New York.
* * * * *
FOOTNOTES:
[1] Letter to F. Villot.
[2] The original in the possession of Edward Roeckel, Bath.
[3] Neighbouring mountains.
[4] A daughter of August Roeckel.
[5] August’s wife.
[6] The Work and Mission of my Life, chap. ix.
[7] Sunday Times, 6th May, 1855.
[8] Written before his death in 1890.
[9] 24th February, 1855.
[10] Roeckel.
[11] English Gentleman.
[12] August’s father.
[13] Secretary of the Philharmonic Society.
[14] This is Wagner’s characteristic jocularity, Lüders being a man of
short and slight stature and most mild in temper.
[15] Edward Roeckel of Bath.
[16] “Peps” was the dog which helped to compose “Tannhäuser.”
[17] The parrot.
[18] Wagner used to take “Gypsy” out for a walk daily.
[19] Then conductor of the New Philharmonic concerts, at present
director of the London Academy of Music.
[20] Meaning of two Richard Wagners.
[21] Burning of the opera house, Covent Garden.
[22] An English translation of these memoirs by Baron de Worms was
published in 1887.
[23] Letter to Mr. Villot, page 35.
[24] Alluding to the action taken by Frederick of Baden (whose wife was
a lover of Wagner’s music) to secure the reinstalment of Wagner as a
citizen of Germany.
[25] Then “Chef de claque.”
* * * * *
Typographical errors corrected by the etext transcriber:
Seigfried=> Siegfried {pg 18}
Kapelmeister=> Kapellmeister {pg 26}
misletoe=> misletoe {pg 32}
orchestra after Hadyn=> orchestra after Haydn {pg 42}
the gift of Shroeder-Devrient.=> the gift of Schroeder-Devrient. {pg 74}
Niebulungen=> Nibelungen {pg 97}
as Tannhauser emerging from=> as Tannhäuser emerging from {pg 116}
“Rienzi” rehersal in the overture=> “Rienzi” rehearsal in the overture
{pg 125}
order came from Luttichon=> order came from Luttichorn {pg 133}
Liepzic dialect=> Leipzic dialect {pg 135}
his easily understoood=> his easily understood {pg 191}
Götterdamerung=> Götterdämmerung {pg 242}
Aria (“Non mi du”)=> Aria (“Non mi dir”) {pg 257}
cequi ne sera pas chose facile=> ce qui ne sera pas chose facile {pg
277}
absolutely nesessary=> absolutely necessary {pg 282}
Götterdammerung=> Götterdämmerung {pg 291}
Nuitre posed a soft answer=> Nuiter posed a soft answer {pg 305}
If it does=> It it does {pg 311}
run as follows=> runs as follows {pg 315}
Freischutz=> Freischütz {x3}