[Illustration: 27. Mendelssohn’s Congratulations to Moscheles, May 30,
1844. (See page 245.)]
Mendelssohn had been requested by the Handel Society to prepare an
edition of the Oratorio “Israel in Egypt.” Later on, a difficulty arose
in reference to the notation. Moscheles says, in a letter to
Mendelssohn: “A meeting was convened to discuss the subject; and after a
lively debate it was decided that the only way to put before the public
that notation which you saw in the original manuscript, and which you
wish to adopt, would be to publish a fac-simile of it. But that, to be
sure, would be out of keeping with the three works already published by
the Society.”
On the 8th of May Mendelssohn came to London, where he was as
enthusiastically received as ever, whether he appeared before the public
as a composer, a conductor, or a pianist. In Moscheles’s concert he
played, with him and Thalberg, Bach’s Triple Concerto; in which his
performance, and especially his improvisation of the Cadenza, is
described as simply miraculous. On another occasion he played
Moscheles’s “Hommage à Handel,” for two performers, with the composer;
at the Philharmonic he conducted for the first time his
“Walpurgisnacht.”
As on former occasions, he was a constant and welcome guest in Chester
Place. In celebration of Moscheles’s birthday, he drew a second page of
illustrations, referring to Moscheles’s works, as a sequel to the one he
made in 1832. “The writing,” he says, “is again Emily’s; the poem,
Klingemann’s; the design is again invented and the ink-blots omitted by
Felix Mendelssohn Bartholdy.” Amongst the various humorous allusions to
Moscheles’s works, we find his song “Silent Love,” represented by a
padlock closing the composer’s mouth. The “March of intellect,
Miss-understanding,” allude to the “Harmonized Scales” written by
Moscheles for his youngest daughter, Clara. The “Scène champêtre”
illustrates the “Concerto Pastorale.” “Les Roses et les épines de la
dédication” show us Moscheles presenting his Concerto to Mendelssohn,
who is bowing and profusely thanking, quite unconscious of the difficult
passage which is lying in wait for him behind his back. The following is
the translation of the lines in the centre of the page:--
“On and still on, the journey went,
Yet has he kept us all in view--
Working in age with youth’s content,
In living--fresh, in loving--true.”[51]
Mendelssohn left London on the 10th of July; two months later he and
Moscheles met in Frankfurt. Another drawing illustrates an amusing
incident at a concert that Moscheles gave in that city. It is described
in a letter from Moscheles’s daughter Emily:--[52]
* * * * *
“The room, long before the concert began, was crammed full, and still
the people were coming. ‘What will the Frankfurters say when they find
no seats?’ said Mendelssohn to Rosenhain. ‘Let us try to hire some
chairs. Come along!’ Off they were, but it was no easy matter to get
chairs; for, it being the time of the fair, there were none to spare in
the crowded hotels. At last they found four dozen in a small inn. ‘These
must be sent immediately,’ says Mendelssohn. ‘But who is to pay?’
inquires the landlord. ‘A great artist, Moscheles, who is giving a
concert. It is all right; your money is safe.’ ‘Stop a minute!’ says the
canny landlord; ‘those great artists often give concerts, pocket the
money, and then disappear. I must have something down.’ Mendelssohn and
Rosenhain empty their pockets, which happen to be poorly filled. The
landlord, however, is satisfied, and they hurry off to the concert-room
with an instalment of chairs inside and outside their cab, the rest
following.
“Another little incident that pleased Mendelssohn mightily, was a
certain C far down in the bass, which my father unexpectedly put in as
he was playing his A flat Study. ‘That took me by surprise,’ he said;
‘it has a splendid effect, and ought not to be forgotten. I must put it
down at once in Mrs. Moscheles’s album.’ He did so, drawing at the same
time the cab, Rosenhain, himself, chairs, and all, but only half a
horse. ‘I can’t draw that by heart,’ he said.”
* * * * *
FRANKFURT, March 7, 1845.
MY DEAR FRIEND,--It really was too kind of you to sit down and have a
talk with me on paper, in the good old style. Now I will just leave
everything to take care of itself till I have returned your chat and
thanked you for your never-varying kindness to me. What you say of
musicians and their doings in England, is certainly far from
satisfactory; but where are doings ever satisfactory? Our inner life it
is that is worth living; but then that is a very different thing to our
outer doings,--something very much better. Conducting and getting up
public performances is all very well in its way; but the result, even
for the public, does not go far. A little better, a little worse, what
does it matter? How soon it is forgotten! And what is it but our inner
life, our calm and peaceful moments, that act and react on all this,
that impel us and lead us onwards, taking all that public business in
tow, and dragging it here and there, whichever way it should go?
That is the language of a Philistine (you will say), of a domestic
animal, or a snail. And yet there is some truth in it; and one book of
your “Studies” has had more influence on the public and on art than I
don’t know how many morning and evening concerts in I don’t know how
many years.
Do you see what I am driving at? I should so much like to get that
four-hand Sonata of yours, or some four-hand Studies, or, for that, some
two-hand ones, or whatever else you might send. But, to be sure, your
season is beginning; and how little time is left you for composing and
for your own
[Illustration: 28. Incidents of a Concert at Frankfurt. A Pen Drawing by
Mendelssohn. (See page 246.)]
self, I know full well. But don’t let the English Misses make you forget
the German Misses, and their necessary adjuncts the Misters, who are
waiting for that four-hand Sonata.
As for your feeling hurt by anything the Directors of the Philharmonic
may have decided upon amongst themselves, I can only say you do them too
much honor; their counsels can scarcely pretend to such distinction. On
the contrary, I must confess that after I saw more of them last year, my
good opinion was very much shaken, and my belief, too, in the future
prospects of the Society. I very much doubt whether anything important
can be expected of it; although, to be sure, the end will not come as
long as the public opens its purse-strings. But the fact of the matter
is, there are some very indifferent representatives of the musical
profession that want to take the lead, and are allowed to do so; and the
consequence is, as usual, that misunderstandings arise, intrigues
follow, and the main object to be pursued is neglected. _C’est tout
comme chez nous._ Do not ask where the _nous_ is. It is everywhere. Just
the old thing,--the inner life I was speaking of on the other page: _da
capo del segno fino al_ [Illustration: segno symbol] _e poi_.
I regret the difficulty with the Handel Society, but I cannot alter my
views on the subject. On less important points I am ready to give way;
as, for instance, in reference to the accidentals,--although there, too,
I prefer the old method, on account of the long bars. But I cannot
possibly introduce my marks of expression into a score of Handel’s, nor
my tempi, nor anything else, unless it is to be made perfectly clear
what is mine and what Handel’s; and as he has put his pianos and fortes
and his figured basses where he thought them necessary, I must either
omit them or leave the public in doubt as to which is his marking and
which mine. It would be no great trouble to any one who agrees with my
marking, to have it copied from the pianoforte arrangement into the
score. On the other hand, it would be no slight evil if the edition did
not clearly distinguish between Handel’s and the editor’s views. I must
say that the interest I take in the Society is entirely dependent on the
decision in reference to this point. The edition of the “Anthems” was so
unsatisfactory, on account of the new marking, that I would never use it
for the purposes of a public performance. I wish to know, above all
things, what is Handel’s and what is not. This desire the Council shared
with me last year; but now the opposite views seem to prevail, and if
they are adopted, I for one (and a good many with me, I believe) will
much prefer the old edition, with its incorrect notes, to the new one
with its various conceptions and consequent marking. All that I have
written to Macfarren. I trust you are not angry with me for speaking out
so plainly. My opinion is so intimately connected with what I have held
to be right, all my life, that I could not possibly alter it.
We have had little music here lately. But one great treat was the
performance, at a private house, of Cherubini’s second Requiem, in D
minor. They had given it six months’ study, and it went accordingly.
André has just sent the original score of Mozart’s C major Symphony
(“Jupiter”) for my perusal. I must write out something from it for you
that will amuse you. Eleven bars before the end, it formerly stood
thus:--
[Illustration: musical notation]
The whole repetition of the theme he has written on an inserted leaf;
the above passage is struck out, and only comes in three bars before the
end. Isn’t it a happy alteration? The repetition of the seven bars is
one of the passages in that Symphony I love best.
But here our gossip must end.
Yours ever,