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—byAndreas 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—byBernard Romberg.
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—byAndreas 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—byBernard 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 workedhis way into close acquaintance with the Solos of Geminiani and Tartini, and theCapricciosof 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 theadagio, that true touchstone of a performer’s abilities and it was in giving effect to this that his inmost soul shone forth. Hiscompositions, 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 Kiesewetterwas 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 thestrings, 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 wheninsuredby the skill of a Paganini) more provoking than pleasing. There existed a similar cause of deduction from the praise due toanotherGerman 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, occupiedSpohr 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 approbationwhich 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 finestsingerupon 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 instrumentalfalsetto—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 worksthat illustrate the name of this potent artist—works that summon to their exposition vocal and instrumentalmultitude:—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; butSpohr’scompositions 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 andbeyondthat 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 ofChef-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 entirelychanged 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 tricksymixtureof 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 thecoquetryof 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. Twoyears 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 theConservatoire. 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’stTo trace the doings of TeutonicErnst—To shew what praise he won, what hearts he moved,What realms he traversed, and what trials proved.Wanting therecordsthat should speak his fame,Prose fails—and Verse, alas! but giveshis name.So, in life’s common round, when just awareThat one whom we have longed toknow, is near—To see him, hear him,chatwith him, prepared,We find he’s gone, and has butleft his card!
Vainly, oh, Pen! expectant here thou turn’stTo trace the doings of TeutonicErnst—To shew what praise he won, what hearts he moved,What realms he traversed, and what trials proved.Wanting therecordsthat should speak his fame,Prose fails—and Verse, alas! but giveshis name.So, in life’s common round, when just awareThat one whom we have longed toknow, is near—To see him, hear him,chatwith him, prepared,We find he’s gone, and has butleft 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(orOlaus)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 toa 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 remainslike 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 likeanotherspecial 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 firstgreatmanifestation appearsto 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 ofSan 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 perfectfurore.
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 theOpera, 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 thathewas the first who, in modern days, conceived the principle of its being possible to extract a variety of neweffectsfrom 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 thenouveau genre, for the reasons previously touched upon in these pages, seem likely to be seriously shaken byanywho 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 marvellouslyuncommon—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 ononestring”) there was in Ole Bull’s performance: for the successful display of tricks is essentially dependent on the most assiduous manipulation;—thecharlatanerieof the instrument being the triumph of the hand, as distinguished from that of the mind. To particularize the various merits whichbelong to his execution, would lead beyond the limit here proposed—else might his sweet and pure tone—his delicate harmonics—his frequent and winningduplicityof notes and shakes—his rapid and exactstaccato, &c. be severally dwelt upon in terms of delight.—I cannot forbear referring, however, to the “ravishing division” of his consummatearpeggios, 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 ofalterativeprocess; 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 toraise 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 completelyalien 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 tocats—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 brothersLabitsky, 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.
... acrescent; and my auguring hopeSays 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 ofaction, 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 arenotmutually 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 isinus, comes notout; 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 theluxurious climate, however, and the leisurely life, that combine to make the people ofItalyas vocal as grasshoppers,we, too, should burst forth into the raptures of song, and overflow with melodial honey;—soat least I venture to believe, when I think of our stock, actuallyhived, in the way ofgleesandballads—a not contemptible little store.
In addition to the two sources of impediment just noticed, may we venture to glance at a third? There is another gloom, besides that of our skies, that has had its obstructive influence, and still, insomedegree, retains it. England, happily for her own comfort, has now left far behind her those puritanic days wherein all persons who ministered to theamusementof their fellow-beings were stigmatized as the “caterpillarsof a common-wealth,” and found law and opinion alike arrayed against them;—but the spirit of Puritanism, once so tyrannically exclusive, has never since departed wholly from among us—and we have, to this day, many sincere and well-meaning compatriots, whose peculiar notions of what constitutes piety, lead them to look with distrust and suspicion upon all that is beautiful in Nature or in Art, and so, to consider musical talent rather as a snare to be shunned, than as a resource to be cherished. These movers-in-a-mist, and extra-burden-bearers, confounding intoonethe two ideas of cultivation and corruption, as if the terms were synonymous, refuse all countenance to music, as anart. Its secular forms, in particular, are their aversion; for they have a strong impression that music is then,only, in its right place, when directly employed in the service of the sanctuary. They discover, even in anOratorio, copious matter for reprobation. They have no sympathy with the practice of the sweetly majestic Psalmist of Israel, whobrought together, to aid in the solemnities of public worship, all that wasbestin vocal and instrumental skill. Vociferated dissonance, exempt from rule, and from accompaniment, hastheirapproval, far above any tempered and balanced harmony; because (astheypersuade themselves) the one comes from the heart, and the other doesnot. To such persons, I can only (in the words of the Archbishop of Granada to Gil Blas) wish all happiness, and a little moretaste—regretting that the influence of what I conceive to be theirmistakeshould have helped, with the other cited causes, to lessen the diffusion among us of the most delightfully recreative of all the arts, which, thus discouraged, has been driven to become the spoiled favourite of the great and rich, instead of being the constant friend and solace of the whole community.
Adverting now specifically to the English School of the violin, I would remind the reader of what has been previously observed respecting the very low estimation in which that instrument was for some time held, after its first advent to this country. To raise it into favorable regard, and to stimulate the efforts of our native professors, successive importations of foreign talent (chiefly from Italy) were required, and supplied. Our debt of this kind to the Italians has been larger than that of our continental neighbours, either of France or of Germany. Indeed the very fact of our possessing a School of our own, in this branch of art, has, I believe, been commonly overlooked by the musical writers of the continent: nor is this very surprising, when it is considered how the great masters from Italy, taking the lead in concerts and public performances, became “the observed of all observers,” and the sole marks, or at least the principal ones, for the pen of the writer. It may bedemonstrated, nevertheless, that we, too, as violinists, have our separate credit to assert for the past, and yet more for the present, though we may not aspire to an equal amount of merit, in this sense, with Germany or France. We have certainly not caught, so effectually as the French, the various dexterities and felicities of execution; but it is perhaps not too much to say that we possess more “capability” for the development of the graver and better sort ofexpression. Your Englishman, with all his lumpish partiality for beef and pudding, is generally allowed to be a being of profounder sensibilities than your Frenchman. He is a better recipient of the more intense emotions that lie within the province of the “king of instruments,” although its more brilliant characteristics are less within his reach. The violin is ashifting Proteus, which accommodates itself to almost every kind and shade of emotion that may actuate the human mind: but then, the lighter emotions more frequently dispose us to seek the aid of music for their audible sign, than the graver ones: therefore your Frenchman, “toujours gai,” is oftener impelled to practise the violin than your Briton; and therefore he becomes, after his own fashion, a better player. But, after all, those who would appreciateallthe capabilities of the violin as an individual instrument, should watch its “quick denotements, working from the heart,” under all manner of hands—Italian, German, French, English, Dutch, and the rest.
With regard tocompositionsfor the instrument, generally, it must be admitted that those to which merit, as well as custom, has given the greatest currency in this country, have been of foreign production—chiefly Italian or German. Truth requires the acknowledgment, that inthismatter we stand far from high in the scale ofnational comparison. It is the remark of Burney, that, for more than half a century preceding the arrival of Giardini, the compositions of Corelli, Geminiani, Albinoni, Vivaldi, Tessarini, Veracini, and Tartini, supplied all our wants on the violin. Though somewhat poor in this point of view, we are, however, not destitute. Let us advert here to two instances only, that is to say, Boyce and Purcell. Dr. Boyce’s “Twelve Sonatas, or Trios, for two Violins and a Bass,” were longer and more generally purchased, performed, and admired (says Dr. Burney) than any productions of the kind in this kingdom, except those of Corelli. They were not only in constant use as chamber-music, in private concerts—for which they were originally designed—but in our theatres as act-tunes, and at the public gardens as favourite pieces, for many years.
“Purcell’s Sonatas and Trios (observes Mr. Hogarth, in his ‘Memoirs of the Musical Drama’) belong to the same school as those of Corelli. The Trios of the great Italian composer were published in the same year, and could not have served as a model to Purcell, who, in acknowledging his obligation to ‘the most famed Italian masters’ in this species of composition, must have alluded to Torelli and Bassani, the latter of whom was Corelli’s master. Purcell’s Sonatas, in some respects, are even superior to those of the great Italian composer; for they contain movements which, in depth of learning and ingenuity of harmonical combination, without the least appearance of labour or restraint, surpass anything to be found in the works of Corelli: but Corelli had the advantage of being a great Violinist, while Purcell, who was not only no performer himself, but probably had never heard a great performer, had no means, except the perusal of Italian scores, of formingan idea of the genius and powers of the instrument. This disadvantage prevented Purcell from striking out new and effective violin passages, and produced mechanical awkwardness, which a master of the instrument would have avoided: but it did not disable him from exhibiting taste and fancy; and every admirer of the works of Corelli will take pleasure in these Sonatas of Purcell.”
The first Englishman who seems to have attained distinction as a professional Violinist, wasJohn Banister, successor of Baltzar, the Lubecker, in the conduct of Charles the Second’s new band of twenty-four violins.Davis Mell, the clock-maker, should, however, if we are to “keep time,” be first introduced, since, although but an Amateur, he was an eminent hand at the violin, and was an agent of some little importance in the diffusion of a taste for the instrument, ere it had yet struggled into general notice. The merits of Davis Mell may be best described in the language of an already familiar friend, honest Anthony Wood:—
“In the latter end of this yeare (1657), Davis Mell, the most eminent Violinist of London, being in Oxon, Peter Pett, Will. Bull, Ken. Digby, and others of Allsowles, as also A. W. (Anthony à Wood) did give him a very handsome entertainment in the Tavern cal’d The Salutation, in St. Marie’s Parish, Oxon, own’d by Tho. Wood, son of —— Wood of Oxon, sometimes servant to the father of A. W. The company did look upon Mr. Mell to have a prodigious hand on the Violin, and they thought that no person (as all in London did) could goe beyond him. But when Tho. Baltzar, an outlander, came to Oxon in the next yeare, they had other thoughts of Mr. Mell, who tho’ he play’d farr sweeter than Baltzar, yet Baltzar’s hand was morequick, and could run it insensibly to the end of the finger-board.”54And in another place, the same writer says, “After Baltzar came into England, and shew’d his most wonderful parts on that instrument, Mell was not so admired; yet he play’d sweeter, was a well-bred gentleman, and not given to excessive drinking, as Baltzar was.”
It is worthy of notice that in the year of that event (the Restoration) which proved so favourable to the march of fiddling in this country, there was published by John Jenkins (who had been a voluminous composer offanciesfor viols) a set of twelve sonatas for two violins and a bass, professedly in imitation of the Italian style, and the first of the kind which had ever been produced by an Englishman. “It was at this time” (observes Burney) “an instance of great condescension for a musician ofcharacterto write expressly for so ribald and vulgar an instrument as theviolinwas accounted by the lovers of lutes, guitars, and all thefretfultribe.” This John Jenkins is designated by Wood as a little man with a great soul. He died in 1678.
John Banisterwas the son of one of thewaitsof the parish of St. Giles; yet, under this humble condition, he was enabled, by obtaining the rude commencement of a musical education from his father, to work his entrance into a successful career. He manifested, in a short time, such ability on the violin, as to gain the marked encouragement of being sent into France by our vivacious Charles II, for improvement, and of being appointed, on his return, leader of the royal band. From this service he was dismissed, for an offence ofthe tongue, such as the French partialities of the English King could not brook. He had ventured to tell Charles that the English performers on the violin were superior to those of France. Pity that a potentate so expert at ajestcould not (or would not) find one wherewith to excuse the frankness of his man-in-office! Banister was one of the first who established lucrative concerts in London. In the announcement of one of these (in 1677), it is stated that the musical performance will begin “with the parley of instruments, composed by Mr. Banister, and performed by eminent masters.” Banister died in 1679, and was interred in the cloister of Westminster Abbey. A contemporary, of some celebrity for his musical zeal, the Hon. Mr. North, has made a flattering allusion to this individual:—“It would be endless to mention all the elegant graces, vocal and instrumental, which are taught by the Italian Masters, and perhaps outdone by the English Banister.”
John Banister, Jun. son of the preceding artist, and trained, by his father to his own profession, obtained a post as one of King William’s band, and also played the first violin at Drury Lane, when operas were first performed there. In this latter post he continued for a number of years, and was succeeded in it by Carbonelli. He was the composer of severalgrounds with divisions, inserted in the publication called the “Division Violin;” and a collection of music for the instrument, jointly written by himself and the German, Godfrey Finger, was published by him, and sold at his house in Brownlow-street, Drury Lane. This Banister died about the year 1729.
Obadiah Shuttleworth, organist of St. Michael’s, Cornhill, and afterwards of the Temple Church, manifested such powers on the violin as to be ranked amongthe first performers of his day. He was the son of a person who lived in Spitalfields, and who had acquired a small fortune, partly by teaching the harpsichord, and partly by copying Corelli’s music for sale, before it wasprintedin England. Shuttleworth was the leader at the Swan Concert in Cornhill, from the time of its institution till his death, about the year 1735. He was likewise a respectable composer, and produced twelve concertos and several sonatas, for violins. Of his compositions, however, if any are now extant in print, they are only two of the concertos, which were formed from the first and eleventh solos of Corelli.
Henry Eccles, an English Violinist of considerable eminence, dedicated himself to foreign service, owing either to the want of due encouragement in his native country, or to the disappointment of expectations too loftily pitched. He went to Paris, and succeeded in attaching himself to the band of the King of France. His father, Solomon, had been also a professor of the instrument, and had some hand in the second part of the “Division Violin,” published in London, 1693. Henry Eccles was the composer of twelve esteemed Violin Solos, published at Paris in 1720.
In treating of the progress of the violin in England, let us here again refer to the great name ofPurcell. The colouring and effects of an orchestra, as Dr. Burney has remarked, were but little known in Purcell’s time, yet he employed them more than his predecessors; and, in his sonatas, he surpassed whatever our country had produced or imported before. The chief part of his instrumental music for the theatre is included in a publication which appeared in 1697, two years after his death, under the title of “A Collection of Ayres composed for the Theatre, &c.” These airs were in fourparts, for two violins, tenor and bass, and were in continual requisition as overture and act-tunes, till they were superseded by Handel’s hautbois Concertos, as were those also by his overtures, while Boyce’s Sonatas and Arne’s compositions served as act-tunes55. Purcell lived, however, somewhat too early, or died too young, for the attainment, even byhisgenius, of any very high success is instrumental composition. Bassani and Torelli, others inferior to them, formed his models of imitation for violin-music—the works of Corelli being hardly then known in this country; and indeed he was so imperfectly acquainted with the extensive powers of the violin, as to have given occasion to Dr. Burney to remark that he had scarcely ever seen a becoming passage for that instrument in any of his (Purcell’s) works. His Sonatas, which contain many ingenious, and, at the time when they were composed,newtraits of melody and modulation, must yet be admitted to discover no great knowledge of the bow, or of the peculiar genius of the instrument and, if they are compared with the productions of his contemporary, Corelli, they will hardly escape being characterized as barbarous. This,the substance of Burney’s remarks on this matter, though according somewhat fainter praise to Purcell than is assigned to him by Mr. Hogarth, does not seem to differ much from the latter, in the essential points.
The arrival of Geminiani and Veracini, which took place in 1714, formed the commencement of an important epoch in the progress of the violin in England. The abilities of those eminent foreign masters established them as models for the study of our own artists, and confirmed the sovereignty of the instrument over all others, in our theatres and concerts. The next English performer to be noticed is—
William Corbett, a member of the King’s band, and a violinist of celebrity, who was the leader of the first Opera orchestra in the Haymarket, at the time when “Arsinoe” was performed there. In the year 1710, when the Italian Opera, properly so called, was established (with “Rinaldo” for its initiatory piece), a set of instrumental performers were expressly introduced, and Corbett, though in the service of the King, was permitted to go abroad. Visiting Rome, where he resided many years, he made a valuable collection of music and musical instruments. Some persons, professing to be acquainted with his circumstances, and fidgetting themselves to account for his being able to lay out such sums as he was observed to do, in the purchase of books and instruments, asserted pretty roundly that he had an allowance from Government, besides his salary, with the commission to watch the motions of the Pretender! This anxiety to construe fiddling into politics, and to find the heart of a state-mystery in the head of a violinist, is of a piece with what has been already related as to Rode and Viotti.—Returning from Italy about the year 1740, Corbett brought over with him a great quantityof music which he had composed abroad. Full of ambition to print, and desire to profit, he issued proposals for publishing by subscription a work entitled “Concertos, or universalBizarreries, composed on all the newgustos, during many years’ residence in Italy.” This strange medley he dragged into publication; but buyers were few and shy. It was in three books, containing thirty-five Concertos of seven parts, in which he professed to have imitated the style of the various kingdoms in Europe, and of several cities and provinces in Italy. In his earlier days, before he left England, he published, in a soberer vein, two or three sets ofSonatas for Violins and Flutes,—twelveConcertos for all Instruments, and several sets of what were calledTunes for the Plays. Corbett died, at an advanced age, in the year 1748, bequeathing by his will the best of his instruments to Gresham College, with a salary of ten pounds a-year to a female servant, who was to act in the demonstrative character. Her expositions of the merits of this collection, are not to be confounded with the “Gresham Lectures.”
Michael Christian Festing, performer and composer, but coming short of the summit in either capacity, was, I believe, of German birth, but nurtured to his art in England, under the direction of Geminiani. He filled the place of first violin at a musical meeting called thePhilharmonic Society, and chiefly composed of noblemen and gentlemen performers, who met on Wednesday nights, during the winter season, at the Crown and Anchor Tavern, in the Strand. On the building of the Rotunda in Ranelagh Gardens, he was appointed sole conductor of the musical performances there. By his zeal and indefatigable exertion, he also contributed very essentially to the establishment of thefundinstituted for the support of decayed musicians and their families;and for several years discharged, without any remuneration, the office of secretary to that excellent institution. Its rise occurred in the year 1738, from the following circumstance. Festing, happening to be seated one day at the window of the Orange Coffee-House, at the corner of the Haymarket, observed, in the act of driving an ass, and selling brick-dust, a boy whose intelligent countenance, contrasting with the humility of his rags, strongly excited his interest. On enquiry, the lad was found to be the son of amusician, who had fallen under the blight of adversity. Struck with sorrow and mortification that the object before him should be the child of a brother-professor, Festing determined to attempt some plan for his support. In this worthy purpose he was assisted by Dr. Maurice Greene—and from this germ of benevolence, sprang eventually the enlarged and estimable charity which has since flourished from season to season.
Inferior, as a performer on the violin, to several others of his time, Festing had nevertheless sufficient talent, in association with gentlemanly manners and conduct, to obtain considerable influence in the musical profession, and to derive an ample and constant support from the patrons of the art among the nobility. Though not eminent as a composer, he has shewn some merit in hissolos, and a very fair understanding of the nature and resources of the instrument. These solos are but little known, having been originally sold only by private subscription. Festing died in 1752. He was succeeded at Ranelagh, and at some of the Concerts, by Abraham Brown, a performer who had a clear, sprightly, and loud tone, but had no sense of expression.
Thomas Pinto, who attained the honor of dividing with Giardini the leadership of the band at the King’sTheatre, was born in England, of Italian parents. His early genius for the Violin was so well directed as to render his playing, as a boy, a theme of astonishment; and, long before he was of age, he was employed as the leader of large bands at Concerts. At this time, however, he fell into a train of idle habits, and began to affect the fine gentleman rather than the musical student—keeping a horse, and sporting a special pair of boots, as his custom of a morning, while a switch in his hand displaced the forgotten fiddle-stick. From this devious course he was reclaimed by the accident of the arrival of Giardini, whose superiority to all the performers he had ever heard, inclined him to think it necessary that he should himself recur to practice; and this he did, for some time, with great diligence. A very powerful hand, and a wonderfully quick eye, were the masterly possessions of Pinto, and enabled him to perform the most difficult music at sight. He played thus, indeed, with more advantage than after studying his subject; for then, in his carelessness, he would trust to his memory, and frequently commit mistakes—missing the expression of passages, which, if he had thought them worth looking at, he would have executed with certainty. After leading at the Italian Opera whenever Giardini’s more extensive avocations caused him to lay down the truncheon, Pinto was engaged as First Violin at Drury-Lane Theatre, where he led for, many years. On the death of his first wife, Sybilla, a German singer, he married another singer, Miss Brent (the celebrated pupil of Dr. Arne), and settled in Ireland, where he died in the year 1773.
Matthew Dubourg, recorded to have been one of the most eminent of the race of English Violinists, was born in the year 1703, and gave very early evidence ofhis musical propensities. It does not appear from whom he derived his first instructions on the instrument; but, when quite a child, he played his first solo (a sonata of Corelli’s) at one of the concerts of the eccentric Britton, the musical small-coal man. To make his infantine person sufficiently visible on that occasion, he was made to borrow elevation from a joint-stool; and so much was the “tender juvenal” alarmed at the sight of the splendid audience assembled for music and coffee in Britton’s dingy apartment, that at first he was near falling to the ground, from dismay. When about eleven years of age, he was placed under the tuition of Geminiani, who was then recently arrived in this country; and, thus tutored, he was enabled fully to confirm the promise which his first attempts had exhibited. At the age of twelve, he was again before the public—having a benefit concert at what was called the Great Room in James Street. Before he had completed his seventeenth year, he had acquired sufficient power and steadiness to lead at several of the public concerts; the fulness of his tone, and the spirit of his execution, being generally noticed. A few years more sufficed to establish thoroughly his reputation; and, in 1728, he was honoured with the appointment of Master and Composer of the State-Music in Ireland. This situation had been previously offered to his late preceptor, Geminiani, and by him declined on account of its not being tenable, in those jealously restrictive days, by a member of the Romish Communion. As the duties of this employment did not require Dubourg’s constant residence in Ireland, he passed much of his time in England, where he was chosen instructor in music to the Prince of Wales, the Duke of Cumberland, and other amateurs, whose names might belong to a “Dictionary of Etiquette.” On the death of Festing,in 1732, he was appointed Leader of the King’s Band, which situation, together with his Irish post, he was so far a musicalpluralistas to retain until his death, which occurred in London in the year 1767. As a member of society, according to the testimony about him which remains, few men of his profession have rendered themselves more generally respected thanhedid.
A considerable share of originality appears to have marked the style of this artist, who, if he derived essential aid from the great man that called him pupil, was any thing but his slavish imitator. “Dubourg’s performance on the violin,” says Sir John Hawkins, “was very bold and rapid—greatly different from that of Geminiani, which was tender and pathetic;-and these qualities, it seems, he was able to communicate; for Clegg, his disciple, possessed them in as great perfection as himself.” According to the same authority, the talent of Dubourg won for him many admirers, and among them a Mrs. Martin, who had become, from a Dutch widow, an English wife, and, being possessed of a large fortune, came to reside in London, where, during the winter season, she had frequent Concerts, resorted to by citizens of the first rank, and at times by some of the nobility. A picture of Dubourg, painted when he was a boy, was, it seems, a conspicuous object in Mrs. Martin’s Concert-Room.56
As a composer, Dubourg is, or rather was, known by theodeshe officially set to music in Ireland, and by a great number ofsolosandconcertosfor the violin, whichhe wrote for his own public performances. Though alleged to have possessed much intrinsic merit, none of these appear hitherto to have been printed; nor is it likely that they will ever now meet with that honour, as the change of fashion in music would hardly admit of their being rescued from “the drearyfuimusof all things human.” For a long time, however, his works (in their aforesaid manuscript state) continued in the possession of one of his pupils; and perhaps they are not yet scattered, but may be at this moment reposing in some dark old chest, undisturbed, save by the nibblings of the worms. In the faint hope of yet bringing some of them to the light, although with no view towards their multiplication, I have had recourse (but without success) to the friendly aid of that oft-times efficacious doubt-cleaver and knot-cracker, known by the name of “Notes and Queries.” As to theodesabove referred to, they wereex-officiocelebrations of royal virtue, from the now-forgotten hand of Benjamin Victor, the poet-laureate, who has achieved for himselfnorealization of the classic wish, “victorque virûm volitare per ora.” Of several of these stately effusions, I have the words now before me. They might serve to provoke the smiles of another and a very different laureate, the living Tennyson; but, as a stimulus tomusic, I can say nothing for them—and can onlyhopethat my progenitor’s attempts, in association with them, may have been worthy of better company.
While in Ireland, Dubourg was honoured with the intimacy of Pope’sGiant, the Briarean Handel; and an anecdote, in which they are both concerned, serves to shew, amusingly enough, that tendency toexpatiatediscursively on their own peculiar instrument, by which most performers of eminence are distinguished. Handel,in a spirit of charity that harmonized fortunately with his interest, but is not to be suspected of being on that account the less sincere, commenced his career in Ireland by presiding at the performance of theMessiah, for the benefit of the Dublin City-Prison. On a subsequent evening, Dubourg, as leader of the band, having acloseto makead libitum, wandered about so long, in a fit of abstract modulation, as to seem a little uncertain about that indispensable postulate, the original key. At length, however, he accomplished a safe arrival at theshakewhich was to terminate this long close, when Handel, to the great delight of the audience, cried out, loud enough to be heard in the remotest parts of the theatre—“Welcome home, welcome home, Mr. Dubourg!” One of the evidences of Handel’s friendship for him, is to be found among his testamentary arrangements, which included a bequest of £100 in his favour.
During his location in Ireland, Dubourg was also visited (in 1761) by his master Geminiani, towards whom he always evinced the utmost regard, and who died in his house, at the great age of 96.
Garrett, Earl of Mornington, noted for his fine musical taste, no less than for his lineal antecedence to the Duke of Wellington, took the interest of a patron in this modest man of art, of whose ability he shewed a precocious discernment, in his very infancy—as the following little tale will explain.
The father of the Earl played well, as an amateur, on the violin, so as to give frequent delight to his child, whilst in the nurse’s arms, and long before he could speak. Dubourg, happening on some occasion to be at the family seat, was not permitted by the child to take the violin from his father nor was the opposition overcome till his little hands were held. After having heardDubourg, however, the case was altered, and there was then muchmoredifficulty in persuading him to let Dubourg give the instrument back to his father; nor would the infant ever afterwards permit the father to play, whilst Dubourg was in the house.
It appears that the name of this artist is the first on record in connection with the performance of aviolin concertoon the stage of an English theatre. At the oratorios given by Handel at Covent Garden in 1741 and 42, Dubourg occupied the ears and eyes of the public, in that way, for many successive nights. Several other performers took the hint, and started upon the same footing soon after57. This sort of exhibition, after some years, seems to have grown too common, to satisfy the public appetency; wherefore a Signor Rossignol, in 1776, undertook to perform after a mode which we should now styleà la Paganini: indeed he seemed to go beyond the modern “miracle of man,” for he advertised “a concerto on the violin,without strings.” Whether the joke turned on the plural number, in particular, or (as the lawyers say) how otherwise, it is now impossible to ascertain.
Dubourg—peace to his gentle memory!—was interred in the church-yard of Paddington, where his calling in life, and his summons to death, were denoted in the following gracefully reflective epitaph:—