HEINRICH MARSCHNER

WEBER LEADING HIS OPERA OF "DER FREISCHÜTZ" AT COVENT GARDEN THEATRE IN 1826.From a characteristic and truthful lithographed sketch made shortly before his death and published by J. Dickinson, 114 New Bond Street, London.

WEBER LEADING HIS OPERA OF "DER FREISCHÜTZ" AT COVENT GARDEN THEATRE IN 1826.

From a characteristic and truthful lithographed sketch made shortly before his death and published by J. Dickinson, 114 New Bond Street, London.

The device of introducing thelargoepisode in the overture of "Euryanthe" to accompany a tableau temporarily disclosed by the withdrawal of the curtain, the tableau having a bearing on the ghostly part of the dramatic tale, may be said to serve not only to prove Weber's appreciation of the fundamental defect of the book, but also to indicate his anxiety to establish a more intimate relationship between the instrumental introduction and the drama. The choral "Ave Maria" in the overture to Meyerbeer's "Dinorah" and the Siciliano in the prelude to Mascagni's "Cavalleria Rusticana" are but variations of Weber's futile invention. It would be unavailing to deny that the want of symphonic development in Weber's overtures, the circumstance that they are little else than potpourris of melodies idealized in a manner by the splendor of their instrumentation, prevents them from aspiring to the dramatic dignity and significance of such overtures as Mozart wrote for "Don Giovanni" and Beethoven for "Fidelio." As a creative composer Weber was first of all a melodist, secondarily a colorist. His want of constructive skill was held up as a reproach to him by his colleagues all through his career. It is not to make a plea in behalf of lawlessness to say that this deficiency in Weber's artistic equipment was less detrimental to his works and influence than a deficiency in any other department would have been. Not a destruction of form but an extension of forms, an adaptation of the vessel to its new contents, was a necessary consequence of the introduction of the Romantic spirit as a dominant element in music. The Romanticism of the poets who inspired the musical Romanticists, consisted not only in their effort to overthrow the stilted rhetoric and pedantry of the German writers who were following stereotyped French models, but also in their effort to disclose the essential beauty which pervades the world of mystery beyond the plain realities of this life. They found the elements of their creations in the imaginative literature of the Middle Ages,—the marvellous and fantastic stories of chivalry and superstition. A man like Schumann touches hands with these poets in all of their strivings. His music rebels against the formalism which had assumed despotic dominion over the art, and also expresses the thousand and one emotions to which that formalism refused adequate expression. Weber's art was so deeply rooted in that of the last century that he could not place himself wholly upon this level. His violations of conventional forms are less the fruit of necessity than the product of incapacity. His Romanticism, except that phase which we have already discussed in connection with his patriotic lyrics, had more of an external nature and genesis—it sprang from the subjects of his operas. The treatment of these subjects by an instinctively truthful musical dramatist was bound to produce the features in which that which is chiefly characteristic in Weber's music is found. The supernaturalism of "Der Freischütz" and "Oberon," the chivalresque sentiment of "Euryanthe" and the national tinge of "Preciosa," all made new demands upon music so soon as the latter came to be looked upon as only one vehicle of dramatic expression instead of the chief business of the piece. The musical investiture of necessity borrowed local elements from the subject. Without losing its prerogative as an expounder of the innermost feelings of the drama it acquired a decorative capacity so far as the externals of the play were concerned. Music became frankly delineative. Whatever may be thought of descriptive music in connection with the absolute forms of the art there can be no question as to its justification in the lyric drama where text, action and scenery are so many programmes, or guides to the purposes of the composer and the fancy of the listener. The more material kind of delineation, that which helped to heighten the effect of the stage pictures, to paint the terrors of the Wolf's Glen with its infernal rout as well as the dewy freshness of the forest and the dainty grace of the tripping elves, was paired with another kind far more subtle. The people of the play, like their prototypes in the mediæval romances, ceased to be representatives of universal types, and became instead individuals who borrowed physiognomy from time, environment and race. To give expression to the attributes thus acquired it became necessary to study the characteristics of those popular publications of emotion which had remained outside the artificial forms of expression. The voice of the German people with their love for companionship, the chase and nature, and their instinctive devotion to the things which have survived as relics of a time when their racial traits were fixed in them, Weber caught up from the Folk-song, which ever and anon in the history of art, when music has threatened to degenerate into inelastic formalism, has breathed into it the breath of life. For the delineation of spiritual characteristics Weber utilized the melodic and rhythmic elements of the people's self-created popular songs; for material delineation his most potent agency was instrumentation. To the band he gave a share in the representation such as only Beethoven, Mozart and Gluck before him had dreamed of. The most striking feature of his treatment of the orchestra is his emancipation of the wood-wind choir. His numerous discoveries in the domain of effects consequent on his profound study of instrumentaltimbreplaced colors upon the palettes of every one of his successors. The supernatural voices of his Wolf's Glen scene are echoed in Verdi as well as in Meyerbeer and Marschner. The fairy footsteps of Oberon's dainty folk are heard not only in Mendelssohn but in all the compositions since his time in which the amiable creatures of supernaturalism are sought to be delineated. The reform, not only in composition, but also in representation achieved by Richard Wagner is an artistic legacy from Carl Maria von Weber. It is but the interest upon the five talents given into the hands of a faithful servant who buried them not in the ground but traded with them "and made them other five talents."

Fac-simile of full score of the beginning of Agatha's great aria, from "Der Freischütz."

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H E Krehbiel

WEBER'S COAT OF ARMS.

HENRICH MARSCHNERReproduction of a lithograph portrait drawn by T. A. Jung and published by Johanning & Whatmore, London, 1830.

HENRICH MARSCHNER

Reproduction of a lithograph portrait drawn by T. A. Jung and published by Johanning & Whatmore, London, 1830.

IT is a little less than a generation since Heinrich Marschner died after having for the same time been one of the most picturesque and significant figures in the art-life of Hanover. For twenty-eight years he had been Royal Chapelmaster with salary and duties; for two years thereafter General Director of Music with a pension. Affecting a custom common among the men of learning in Germany and the academic musicians of Great Britain, he prefixed the title of his honorary university degree to his signature. He was Dr. H. Marschner. On court occasions he could bedizen his breast with baubles enough to make a brave show amongst the civil and military servants of his Hanoverian Majesty King George V. He was Knight of the Order of the Saxon-Ernestine House; Knight of the Guelphic Order; Knight of the Order of Danebrog; possessor of the Bavarian and Austrian medals for Merit in Art and Science. He was also Honorary Citizen of Hanover. He died suddenly of apoplexy at the age of sixty-six, before his capacity for work had become seriously impaired; his mind was occupied with a new opera when death overtook him. In his day and generation he was one of the most admired of Germany's opera writers. He lived to see nearly all of the colleagues and rivals of his prime die and their creations fade out of public memory. Lindpaintner, Dorn, and Reissiger are names that come to our ears like faint echoes of once-living voices. Kreutzer and Lortzing wake at long intervals in sporadic performances in small or provincial theatres. Marschner is in a more fortunate case, for his was greater genius. Three of his operas still have a considerable degree of vitality, and some of his stirring part-songs for men's voices are yet sung and heard with delight. But only in Germany. Dust lies deep upon his pianoforte and chamber music wherever it is. Yet it is less than a generation since he died. Day by day it becomes more difficult to assign him the place to which he is entitled in the Temple of Fame, for he wrote for but one people and his memory is perishing even amongst them.

The birth-place of Heinrich Marschner was Zittau in Saxony. He was born August 16, 1795 and imbibed his love for music as most German boys of good family imbibe theirs. His father was fond of the art and it was industriously practised in the family. When the lad manifested an unusual degree of talent, the father, instead of becoming alarmed, encouraged its use, though he had no mind that his son should become a musician. Karl Gottlieb Hering, an eminent musical pedagogue at the time a teacher in the town Seminary, was called in to be the lad's teacher. Meanwhile he pursued his other studies and in due time entered the Gymnasium where his musical gifts and lovely voice found occupation in the Gymnasial choir. At the solicitation of the music teacher in the Gymnasium at Bautzen he went thither for a space and sung the soprano solos in the Bautzen choir, but his voice changing he returned to his native town and there completed his lower studies. The political situation (it was in 1813 and Germany was preparing to rid herself of Napoleon) interfered with his father's wishes to have him proceed at once to Leipsic to take up the study of jurisprudence at the University. There was a brief respite which he spent in Prague until the suspension of the truce compelled him to leave the Bohemian Capital. He returned to his home in Zittau for a short time, then proceeded to Leipsic and was there a witness of the great three-days' battle. The brief stay in Prague had helped to keep the artistic fires burning on the altar of his heart, for there he became acquainted with Johann Wenzel Tomaschek, the Bohemian composer and teacher. Marschner was matriculated at the University so soon as the return of more peaceful timespermitted the step to be taken, and began his study of the law. His experience, however, was like that of Schumann later. While trying to be faithful to his Corpus Juris, he found the fascinations of Dame Music stronger than his will. Some of his essays in composition were applauded and he resolved to become a musician instead of a lawyer. Schicht, one of Bach's successors in the position of Cantor of the Thomas School was now his teacher, and in 1815 he felt himself sufficiently strong as a pianoforte virtuoso to undertake a concert tour to Carlsbad. There he met the Hungarian Count Thaddeus von Amadée, who persuaded him to seek his fortune in Vienna. He went thither in 1816, made the acquaintance of Beethoven and, aided by the music-loving Count, was appointed to a position as teacher in Pressburg where three years later he married his first wife, Eugenie Jaggi, and completed the first of his operas which achieved the distinction of a representation. This opera was "Henry IV. and d'Aubigné" which he sent to Weber at Dresden in 1818. A year earlier he had set Kotzebue's "The Kyffhaus Mountain." The title of this, his first opera, indicates that his mind was from the beginning turned toward the legendary materials which afterward became the inspiration of the Neo-Romantic school. It is possible, too, that this predisposition toward the supernatural was strengthened by an incident which has been related by Louis Köhler in connection with the first representation of "Henry IV. and d'Aubigné." This story is to the effect that one night in 1819 Marschner, living far from Dresden (the year must have been 1820, the place Pressburg) dreamed that he was witnessing a performance of his opera. The applause so excited him that he awoke and sprang from his bed. Ten days later he received a letter from Weber enclosing ten ducats honorarium and conveying the intelligence that on the night of the dream "Henry IV. and d'Aubigné" had been produced at Dresden with great success. As has already been indicated in one respect the credibility of the story suffers somewhat from analysis of its details. The fact that he dreamed of a performance of his opera and the possibility of the influence of the dream upon his mind need not be disputed. It is extremely improbable, however, that he was ignorant of the date set for the performance as is implied in the story, for on July 7, 1820, twelve days before the first representation, Weber, in continuance of the friendly policy which he adopted five years before in order to introduce Meyerbeer to Prague, published a description of the opera in theAbendzeitungof Dresden. It seems to be beyond question, however, that Weber produced the opera chiefly to encourage the young composer.

After spending over five years in Pressburg, Marschner visited Saxony to look after some family affairs. The kindness with which Councillor von Könneritz, Theatrical Intendant, and Weber received him, determined him to remove to Dresden. His wife had died soon after marriage. He now took up a residence in the Saxon Capital, and after he had composed incidental music for Kleist's drama, "Prince Frederick of Homburg," he was by royal rescript, dated September 4, 1824, appointed Royal Music Director of the German and Italian Opera, becoming thus an associate of Weber, whose friendship manifested itself daily in the most helpful manner.

Marschner's "Henry IV." was brought out by Weber in the year which gave "Der Freischütz" to the world. It was followed by "Saidar," words by Dr. Hornbostel, composed in 1819, "The Wood Thief," words by Kind, the poet of "Der Freischütz," and "Lucretia," words by Ehschlagen. "Saidar" was performed without success in Strassburg, "The Wood Thief" in January, 1825, in Dresden, and "Lucretia" in 1826 in Dantsic under Marschner's direction. Weber's death in London on June 5, 1826, marked a turning-point in the energetic young composer's career. Failing in the appointment to the post made vacant by Weber's death, he severed his connection with the Dresden Theatre, married a singer named Marianne Wohlbrück on July 3, and a few months later removed to Leipsic.

His second marriage was celebrated at Magdeburg. A brother of the bride was Wilhelm A. Wohlbrück, to whom Marschner submitted the subject of "The Vampire" before he returned to Leipsic. Two years afterwards the opera had its first representation. Its immediate success, and possibly his newly attained domestic happiness, were a mighty spur to his industry and fancy. "The Templer and the Jewess," founded on Scott's "Ivanhoe," followed in 1829, and "The Falconer's Bride" in 1830, Wohlbrück being the poet in both cases. The triumph of "The Vampire" was eclipsed by that of "The Templar and the Jewess," whose chivalresquesubject was naturally much more amiable than the gruesome story of "The Vampire." Marschner's attention was drawn to Scott's "Ivanhoe" when, having been invited like Weber to compose an opera for London, he imitated Weber's example and prepared himself for the work by learning English. "The Vampire," translated by Planché, the librettist of "Oberon," had been well received in London, though Planché took the liberty of changing the scene from Scotland, where the author of the story had placed it, to Hungary. Nothing came of the London invitation, because of the burning of the Covent Garden Theatre.

Marschner was now at the zenith of his fame. Toward the close of 1830 he accepted an invitation to become Royal Chapelmaster at Hanover and distinguished himself at once in his new position by composing "Hans Heiling," his finest work and the strongest prop of his present fame. The book of this opera had been submitted to him anonymously. When the opera was first performed in 1833 in Berlin the librettist sang the titular rôle. It was none other than Edward Devrient. Marschner's reception at Hanover was in every way distinguished, but long before his death he forfeited some of the good will of the court circles and the portion of society influenced by them. Domestic misfortunes doubtless contributed much to embitter his disposition. He lost his wife in 1854. The immediate cause of his withdrawal in 1859 from active service was the appointment of C. L. Fischer as second Chapelmaster against his wishes. He lost his interest in the orchestra which he had brought to a high state of efficiency and was pensioned off as a General Music Director. Before then he married a third wife, a contralto singer named Therese Janda of Vienna, who survived him. He died of an apoplectic stroke on December 15, 1861, at nine o'clock in the evening. Besides the works mentioned in the foregoing recital, he composed "The Castle on Aetna," "The Babü," "Adolph of Nassau," and "Austin," operas, and incidental music to Kind's "Fair Ella," Hell's "Ali Baba," Rodenberg's "Waldmüller's Margret" and Mosenthal's "The Goldsmith of Ulm."

Fac-simile of a letter thanking an unnamed composer for a set of variations on themes from his opera "Hans Heiling."

Marschner was not an old man when he died, yet his life compassed the climax of the Classic Period of German Music, the birth and development of the Romantic School and the first vigorous stirrings of the spirit exemplified in the latter-day dramas of Richard Wagner. He knew Beethoven, stood elbow to elbow with Weber, fought by the side of Spohr and exerted an influence of no mean potency in the development of Wagner. He was the last of the three foremost champions who carried the banner of Romanticism into the operatic field. It is likely that had he asserted his individuality more boldly instead of fighting behind the shields of his two great associates the world would know better than it does that he was a doughty warrior; and criticism would speak less often of his music as a reflection and of him as merely a strong man among theepigonoiof Beethoven and Weber. Wagner set his face sternly against the estimate which lowers him to the level of a mere imitator. Schumann esteemed his operas more highly than those of any of his contemporaries, in spite of their echoes of Weber's ideas and methods. His record of the impression made on his mind by a performance of "The Templar and the Jewess" is a compact and comprehensive estimate of Marschner's compositions: "The music occasionally restless; the instrumentation not entirely lucid; a wealth of admirable and expressive melody. Considerable dramatic talent; occasional echoes of Weber. A gem not entirely freed from its rough covering. The voice-treatment not wholly practicable, and crushed by the orchestra. Too much trombone."

It is scarcely to be marvelled at that the world should have accepted the old verdict. Outside of Germany Marschner has had no existence for more than half a century. In Germany three of his operas may occasionally be heard. All the rest of his list have disappeared from the stage as completely as the hundreds of his compositions in the smaller forms. These three operas, "The Vampire," "The Templar and the Jewess" and "Hans Heiling," not only contain his best music but also exemplify the sum of his contributions to the Romantic movement. In them he appears in his fullest measure complementary to Weber and Spohr. Yet to appreciate this fact it is necessary to view them in the light of the time and the people for which they were created. It is scarcely possible to conceive their existence, much less to perceive their significance under changed conditions and beyond the borders of the German land. The measure of their present popularity in Germany is also the measure of their comparative merit. In them is exhibited Marschner's growth in clearness, truthfulness and forcefulness of expression and his appreciation of Romantic ideals. At this late day it is impossible to perceive anything else than a wicked perversion of those ideals in "The Vampire"; yet it finds a two-fold explanation in the morbid tendency of literature and the stage in Europe two generations ago, and the well-known proneness of the Germans to supernaturalism. The story is an excresence on the face of Romanticism for which the creators of the literary phase of the movement are not responsible. It tells of a nobleman who, having forfeited his life, prolongs it and wins temporary immunity from punishment by drinking the life-blood of his brides, three of whom he is compelled by a compact with the Evil One to sacrifice between midnight and midnight once a year. At the base of this dreadful superstition lies the notion that the Vampire's unconquerable thirst for blood is a punishment visited upon a perjurer. It may be largely fanciful, but it must, nevertheless, not be overlooked in accounting for the popularity of this subject that a degree of sympathy for it among the German people may have been due to the fact that it contains a faint mythological echo. In the Volüspa perjurers are condemned in their everlasting prison-house to wade knee-deep in blood. It is this superstition which prolongs the action in the opera until the fiend has killed two of his victims and stands before the altar with her who had been selected as the third. In treating this gruesome subject Marschner and his librettist compelled their hearers to sup full of horrors; nor did they scorn the melodramatic trick, which survived in the Bertrams and Rigolettos of a later time, of investing a demon with a trait of character calculated to enlist sympathetic pity in his behalf. The direct responsibility for this bit of literary and theatrical pabulum rests with Byron. He wrote the tale for the delectation of his friends in Geneva. But the time was ripe for it. Planché adapted a French melodrama on the subject for London six years before he performed a similar service to Marschner's opera, and Lindpaintner composed his "Vampire" a year after Marschner's work had been brought forward.

Fac-simile autograph manuscript from "Hans Heiling," written by Marschner.

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The frank supernaturalism of "The Vampire,"though it can only present itself to us in the light of perverted and vulgarized Romanticism, made a powerful appeal to the Germans with their innate if unconscious sympathy with the dethroned creatures of paganism. It was the vivid embodiment of this sympathy which gave to the Romantic School the characteristic element which Marschner represents in his estate of originality. The supernaturalism which is little more than an influence in "Der Freischütz" is boldly personified in "The Vampire." Already at the outset of the opera, the silent diabolism of Weber'sSamielis magnified and metamorphosed into a chorus of witches, ghosts, and devils. The opening scene is a choral Wolf's Glen, the copy going so far as the choice of Weber's key, F-sharp minor. Yet in spite of the imitation it is here that Marschner first struck the keynote of the strongest element of his dramatic music,—the demoniac. It was the fault of the subject that he could not give a sign here of the element in which he is stronger still, or at least, more original,—the element of rude humor. That manifestation had to wait for the coming of Friar Tuck in his setting of the story of "Ivanhoe." The third element in which the strong talent of the composer moves most freely and effectually is the delineation of folk-scenes. Here he has followed closely in the footsteps of Weber and caught up the spirit of the common people as they gave it expression in their songs and dances. As Luther, in transforming a dialect into a literary language, caught the idiom from the lips of the people in the market-place, so Weber and Marschner went for their folk-music to the popular revels in tavern, field, and forest.

A want of dramatic cohesion and homogeneity has militated against "The Templar and the Jewess," the only opera of the three which might by virtue of its subject, have achieved and retained popularity in England, France and America as well as Germany. It suffers, too, in contrast with Weber's "Euryanthe" by reason of its failure to reach the lofty plane of chivalresque sentiment on which Weber's almost ineffable opera moves with an aristocratic grace and ease that put even "Lohengrin" to shame. Nevertheless, some of the significance of "The Templar and the Jewess" may be found in the evidences that "Lohengrin" is in part its offspring. The parallelisms are too striking to be overlooked, especially in the ordeals by which the two heroines are tried. The prayers of Rebecca and Elsa, the reliance of each upon a heaven-sent champion, the employment of the accompanying wood-winds stamp them as sisters in art. In "Hans Heiling," the supernaturalism is greatly purified and idealized. The hero of the opera is a king of underground spirits, who relinquishes his throne for love of a mortal maiden. He is deceived in his love, but stifles his desire for vengeance and returns to his old dominion. The musical advance over "The Vampire" is commensurate with the ethical. The musical declamation approaches in truthfulness that of the modern lyric drama, and an ingenious compromise is effected with the cumbersome device of spoken dialogue. In the scenes which play on the earth, this relic of the old GermanSingspielis retained; but inHeiling'ssubterranean kingdom all speech is music.

H E Krehbiel

FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDYReproduction of an engraving after an oil portrait from life, made by Mendelssohn's brother-in-law. W. Hensel.

FELIX MENDELSSOHN BARTHOLDY

Reproduction of an engraving after an oil portrait from life, made by Mendelssohn's brother-in-law. W. Hensel.

Mendelssohn

THE story of his fine life, watched over from the cradle as by fairies, is a poem. The family names are compound. Mendelssohn is German for son of Mendel; Bartholdy is Hebrew for son of Tholdy. One key to his artistic character is the general culture, intellectual and social, of the man, for which the opportunities were granted him from infancy in fuller measure than to any other great musician. Born in prosperity, amid refining influences; taught Greek and Latin classics; familiar with living poets, scholars and philosophers who frequented his father's house; passing a fortnight at the impressible age of eleven in the house of Goethe; imbued with reverence for the character and teaching of his wise Platonic grandfather, the Jew Moses Mendelssohn, the model for Lessing's "Nathan the Wise"; stimulated by the piquant and genial letters of his three gifted aunts (two of whom had turned Catholic), and above all by the tender, wise, exacting and appreciative oversight of his excellent father, to whom the best was only "just good enough," he grew unconsciously into a large and liberal way of thinking. He was at home in the most cultivated circles, "a native there, and to the manner born." What might it not have been to Schubert to have germinated and unfolded under such a genial sun in such a soil! Well was the youth named Felix!

Moses Mendelssohn, a little humpbacked Jew peddler boy, with keen eyes and winning face, came to Berlin about the middle of the last century. He had a hard fight with penury, and an unconquerable passion for knowledge and the culture of his mind. At that time the Jews in Germany were at the lowest stage of social repression. Excluded from nearly all honorable and profitable pursuits, restricted to Jew quarters, outcast and despised, they were the chosen victims of Christian intolerance. On the other hand, driven back upon the synagogue, upon the even fiercer bigotry of their own priests and rabbis, with whom "to speak the German language correctly or to read a German book was heresy," the young man was caught between two fires. Yet so brave, so able was he, so faithful to his great life purpose, and withal so winning by his hearty, sterling honesty of spirit, that he became one of the lights of German literature, one of its recognized apostles; the intimate associate of Lessing, Herder, Kant, etc. His conversation had the Socratic quality; and his "Phaedo," a dialogue on immortality, founded on that of Plato, was so persuasive that it was translated into many languages. He married a Jewess in Hamburg, and grew prosperous as well as learned. He left three daughters and three sons. Abraham, the father of Felix, was the second son, a thriving banker, for a while in Paris, when he married Lea Salomon, of the Bartholdy family, a lady of wealth and culture, from Berlin, and formed a partnership with his elder brother in his native Hamburg. Their first child was Fanny, born, as her mother said, with "Bach fugue fingers." The second child, Jakob Ludwig Felix, was born February 3, 1809. Before he was three years old, the French occupied Hamburg, and Abraham fled to Berlin, where he formed a new banking house, and his whole family were baptized into the Protestant Communion, taking the added name Bartholdy.

The patriarchal rule, obedience and industry, was strict in the house. But the father was kind and gentle as well as severe, and Felix loved him dearly; called him "not only my father, but my teacher both in art and in life"; and wondered how it was possible that a father, not a technical musician, could criticize the son's early efforts in composition so shrewdly and so justly. After Felix became famous, Abraham said once humorously of himself: "Formerly I was the son of my father, now I am the father of my son."

The mother, a lady of fine person, with an air of much benevolence and dignity, was a model housewife; spoke several languages, read Homer in the Greek, played the piano, and gave the first frequent five-minute lessons to her two eldest children, Fanny and Felix. The boy was full of life and fond of out-door play, very attractive with his long brown curls and great brown eyes. He was frank, unspoiled, earnest in what he undertook, and could bear no foolish flattery, no nonsense.

MENDELSSOHN'S BIRTHPLACE IN HAMBURG.Feb. 3—1809.

MENDELSSOHN'S BIRTHPLACE IN HAMBURG.

Feb. 3—1809.

After a short visit of the family to Paris, in 1816, when Fanny was eleven and Felix seven years old, the children's education began systematically. Heyse (father of the novelist) was their tutor at large; Ludwig Berger, teacher for piano; the strict, conservative Zelter (Goethe's friend) for thorough bass and counterpoint; Henning for violin. Felix, whose pen and pencil sketches in his letters show such a facile gift for drawing, was taught landscape by Rösel. Greek he learned with his younger sister Rebecka, even reading Æschylus. The children were kept closely to their lessons; Felix used to say how much they enjoyed the Sundays, when they had not to get up at five o'clock to work.

He was first heard in a public concert on Oct. 24, 1818, when he played the piano part in a trio with two horns with much applause. Early in his eleventh year he entered the singing class of the Singakademie as an alto. "There he took his place," writes his friend Devrient, "amongst the grown people, in his child's suit, a tight fitting jacket cut very low at the neck, and with full trousers buttoned over it. Into the slanting pockets of these he liked to thrust his hands, rocking his curly head from side to side, and shifting restlessly from one foot to the other."—He spoke French and English fluently; wrote a letter in good Italian; and translated the "Andrea" of Terence into German verse, besides making such good headway in Greek. He could ride and swim and dance, right heartily, but was not fond of mathematics.

In 1820, his twelfth year, he set about composing regularly. With that year begins the series of forty-four volumes in which he methodically preserved autograph copies of a great part of his works down to the time of his death, with date and place carefully noted. These are now in the Imperial Libraryat Berlin. Another proof of his methodical self-discipline is found in the fact that for many years he made it an invariable rule to composesomething every day.

His productive activity during the six early years from 1820 to 1826 was incessant, many-sided and prolific. In 1820, among other compositions named by Grove, are a Trio for piano and strings; a Sonata for pianoforte and violin; another for pianoforte solo; four organ pieces; a Cantata, bearing the earliest date of all (Jan. 13); a Lustspiel for voices and pianoforte, in three scenes, beginning: "Ich Felix Mendelssohn," etc. In 1821, five Symphonies for strings, songs, one-act operas. This was the year when Zelter first took him to Goethe at Weimar.

The next two years were no less productive. In the summer of 1822 the whole family made a leisurely tour in Switzerland, visiting on the way Spohr at Cassel, on the return Schelble, conductor of the famous Cäcilien-Verein at Frankfort, and Goethe again at Weimar. Near Geneva he wrote the first (Op. I) of three Quartets for pianoforte and strings. In the two years six more quartet Symphonies, making twelve in all, which do not figure in the catalogue, although they were not mere exercises. Then, too, an opera, "The Uncle from Boston," in three acts. He was then nearly fifteen, growing fast, his features and expression altering and maturing, and his hair cut short.

It is pleasant to read of the Sunday morning music in his grandmother's large dining-room, with a small orchestra, Felix conducting, Fanny or himself at the piano, Rebecka singing, and the young brother Paul playing the 'cello. Some composition of his own had place in every programme. Noted musicians passing through Berlin were often present. For critic there was his own father, besides the wise old Zelter. Every evening, also, more or less, the house was enlivened by music, theatrical impromptus, and "constant flux and reflux of young, clever, distinguished people, who made the suppers gay and noisy, and among whom Felix was the favorite." Among the intimates were Moscheles and Spohr.

MENDELSSOHN'S FATHER.Abraham Mendelssohn—from a pencil drawing made by his son-in-law William Hensel.

MENDELSSOHN'S FATHER.

Abraham Mendelssohn—from a pencil drawing made by his son-in-law William Hensel.

A great advance was shown in the compositions of 1824. In the summer Felix, with his father and Rebecka, visited a bathing place on the shores of the Baltic, where he got his first impressions of the sea, afterwards reproduced in theMeeresstilleoverture. In the next spring father and son were in Paris. There Felix met all the famous French musicians. Their devotion toeffectand superficial glitter, their ignorance of German music (Onslow, for instance, having never heard a note ofFidelio), the insulting liberties they took with some of its masterpieces, enraged the enthusiastic lad. With Cherubini his intercourse was more satisfactory. On the way home they paid a third, short visit to Goethe. The fiery Capriccio in F sharp minor, and the score of the two-act opera,Camacho's Wedding, from Don Quixote, were fruits of that year.

That summer Abraham Mendelssohn purchased the large house and grounds (ten acres) at No. 3 Leipziger Strasse, which became the sumptuous abode of the family, until the death of Felix, when it was occupied by the Herrenhaus, or House of Lords of the Prussian government. As described by Hensel, it was a dignified, old-fashioned, spacious palace, then in the suburbs of Berlin, near the Potsdam gate, on the edge of the Thiergarten. Behind the house was a court with offices, then gardens and a park with noble trees,—just the ideal seat for such an artistic family! There was a room for large musical parties and private theatricals. Between the court and the garden stood theGartenhaus, the middle of which formed a hall large enough to hold several hundred persons, with glass doors openingon the lawns and alleys. It was a delightful summer house, but rather bleak in winter. There the Sunday music found new life; there Felix composed the Octet for strings; there, too, in the fine summer of 1826, the work with which he "took his final musical degree," astonishing the world as a full-fledged composer, a master of original, imaginative genius, the overture toA Midsummer Night's Dream. He had been reading with his sisters the Schlegel and Tieck version of Shakespeare's play. In this and many instances Fanny, herself a good musician and composer, was her brother's confidante and critic. The fairy vein, which had cropped out in earlier works (the Quintet in A, the Octet, etc.), seemed to have reached its full expression here. And the wonder is that the motives of the Overture all came in place when he wrote music for the whole play seventeen years later.

MENDELSSOHN'S MOTHER.From a pencil drawing made by William Hensel.

MENDELSSOHN'S MOTHER.

From a pencil drawing made by William Hensel.

MeanwhileCamachowas granted one unwilling hearing by Spontini, in the smaller theatre. Galled by the sneering remarks of the critics, Felix found the art atmosphere of Berlin more and more antipathetic. Entering the University of that city, he had less time for composition. How far he followed the course does not appear. He attended lectures of Hegel (one of whose courses was on music), and of Ritter, the great geographer. And he resumed his study of Italian classics, translating into German verse sonnets of Dante and others. There too he became a proficient in landscape drawing. Ten years later the University of Leipsic conferred on him the honorary degree of Doctor of Philosophy.

The life in the new house was very genial and active. Felix practised riding, swimming and other gymnastics with characteristic ardor "to the utmost"; for skating he could not bear the cold. And what a brilliant andélitesociety frequented those large rooms: Rahel Varnhagen, Bettina, Heine, Holtei, Lindblad, Marx, Humboldt, W. Müller, Hegel,—all famous then or afterwards! Young people were there "in troops." They had a little newspaper of their own, called in summerGarten-Zeitung, in winterSchnee-und Thee-Zeitung, edited by Felix and Marx, to which all comers were free to contribute; paper, ink and pens lay ready in the summer-houses. Graver heads, like Humboldt and Zelter, used the opportunity! "In all this brilliant interchange of art, science and literature," says Grove, "Felix, even at this early date, was the prominent figure. When he entered the room every one was anxious to speak to him. Women of double his age made love to him; and men, years afterwards, treasured every word that fell from his lips."

During the next winter, hearing a complaint that Bach seemed like an arithmetical exercise, Felix formed a choir of sixteen voices for the practice of thePassion Musicat his house. That led to the public performance of the great neglected master-work a year later; and that to the "Bachgesellschaft" for the stately publication of all Bach's works, not yet completed. The little choir warmed to the heavenly music, and grew eager for its public performance, under Felix's own care, by the three to four hundred voices of the Singakademie, of which Zelter was Director. Besides the intrinsic difficulty of the music, there were two serious obstacles: the opposition of Zelter, and the apathy of the public. The first was overcome with the sanguine aid of his friend Devrient, the actor, who with him faced the lion in his den, and made him finally consent. The second melted to enthusiasm before the splendid success of the performance. Felix conducted the rehearsals without notes, knowingthe music all by heart; the leading opera singers undertook the solos; the public flocked to the rehearsals; and on Wednesday, March 11, 1829, this greatest choral work of the great old master composer was introduced to the world for the first time since his death. A thousand people were turned away from the doors. Said Felix: "It was an actor and a Jew who restored this great Christian work to the people." That was the dawn of the Bach culture, which steadily if slowly gains ground in these our modern times.

In the midst of this excitement, his gifted, darling sister Fanny became engaged to William Hensel, the distinguished Berlin painter. Mendelssohn had reached the age of twenty. Not on the best terms with the musical world of Berlin, he yearned for more congenial air and stimulus. To improve himself in art and general culture, and "to make friends," he set out on his "grand tour." He arrived in London (April 21), where he was welcomed by his friends Klingemann (then secretary of legation there) and Moscheles. At the Philharmonic Concert, May 25, he conducted his C-minor Symphony, old John Cramer leading him to the piano, at which in those days, the conductor sat or stood. The applause was immense, and the Scherzo (which he had scored from his Octet, in place of the Minuet and Trio) was persistently encored against his wish. The London reception had "wiped out the sneers and misunderstandings of Berlin." Near the close of his life he spoke of it as "having lifted a stone from his heart." Indeed, the English, from that day to this, have been warm, even to the extreme of partiality, in their enthusiasm for the man and for his music. He took part in several other London concerts, was much petted in aristocratic circles, and disported himself in so many fashionable balls and gaieties, that the sober family at home became alarmed for him.

From London to Scotland, where he called upon Sir Walter, and stopped at the Hebrides, sending thence in a glowing letter to Fanny the first motive of the famous overture which he scored in Rome. Returning to London in September, he was confined to his room two months and could not go home to his sister Fanny's wedding. In December he found her with her artist husband installed in theGartenhausas studio, together with the Devrients. These, indeed every member of the family took part in the little comedy,Das Heimkehr aus der Fremde("The Son and Stranger"), which Felix had composed for his parents' silver wedding. For Hensel, utterly unmusical, he wrote a part upon one note. That winter he composed his "Reformation Symphony." A chair of Music was founded expressly for him in the Berlin University, which he knew himself too well to accept.

In May, 1830, the "grand tour" was resumed. He reached Weimar on the 30th, spent a fortnight of close intercourse with Goethe, leading what he called a "heathenish life"; then several very interesting weeks in Munich. Then, through the Salzkammergut, to Vienna, where he found Haydn, Mozart and Beethoven ignored in favor of Hummel, Field, and Kalkbrenner; and where he passed a gay month with musicians, but managed to compose some serious things.

MENDELSSOHN'S SISTER.Fanny Mendelssohn—from a pencil drawing made by her husband, William Hensel.

MENDELSSOHN'S SISTER.

Fanny Mendelssohn—from a pencil drawing made by her husband, William Hensel.

Then came the leisurely, long stay in Italy, particularly Rome, of which his letters give such glowing and minute accounts. There he lived a most genial and happy life, giving himself up completely to the sunny scene and climate, to art, and fine churches (of which he found the music dull), old ruins, and allthat was picturesque and characteristic inroba di Romaof all sorts. He was six months in Rome; six weeks in Naples, finding there his old friend Benedict, whom he first knew as Weber's pupil in Berlin; then Florence, Genoa, Milan and the Italian Lakes. In Italy he composed the "Italian" and "Scotch" Symphonies, theWalpurgisnachtmusic, and many smaller things. And he filled several drawing-books with sketches. Then, by way of Switzerland, walking from Geneva to Interlachen (all minutely, graphically chronicled in the Letters), to Paris again, where he threw himself into the musical and social "swim." But in spite of his warm reception, and the presence of Hiller, Meyerbeer, and many friends, he found the gay metropolis no more to his taste than before, and was glad to spend two months again in the "smoky nest" of London, playing, composing, and publishing.

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