UNIVERSITY of ILLINOIS LIBRARY r>. . . • -• '• Class 9 Book W (o(o Volume .A / ^ UNIVERSITY of ILLINOIS LIBRARY r>. . . ‘ ' Class Book Wbb Volume I ' V.1 . > 1 , S^asstecs of Contemporary S^usii'c A SERIES OF BIOGRAPHICAL AND CRITICAL SKETCHES EDITED BY CHARLES WILLEBY Digitized by the Internet Archive in 2019 with funding from University of Illinois Urbana-Champaign https://archive.org/details/mastersofenglish00will_0 \ LIBRARY OF THc UNIVERSITY of ILLINOIS. From a Photograph by Devereux, Brighton Rasters of 6nglt0l) £pustc BY CHARLES WILLEBY AUTHOR OF “FR^D^RIC FRANCOIS CHOPIN” WITH ILLUSTRATIONS LONDON JAMES R. OSGOOD, McILVAINE & CO. 45 ALBEMARLE STREET 1896 -J X ^ NNtC. vcaiu l( V.I.'JI \0 0 Ituvi'tti I.t ( t 0 TO HIS ROYAL HIGHNES THE DUKE OF EDINBURGH THIS VOLUME IS WITH HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS’S SPECIAL PERMISSION RESPECTFULLY DEDICATED BY HIS ROYAL HIGHNESS’S HUMBLE AND OBEDIENT SERVANT CHARLES WILLEBY PREFACE The aim of this Series is to place on record the chief facts and incidents in the careers of the greatest living composers , and to sketch the respective ten¬ dencies and the distinguishing features of their work. It is intended to devote a volume to the musicians of each country , and, so far as practicable , to obtain all biographical data from the composers themselves. In the present volume this plan has been followed exclu¬ sively. The author wishes to acknowledge the assist¬ ance afforded him by Messrs. Novello, Chappell, Boosey, and Cramer, in kindly providing him with the full scores, &cof the various works for purposes of reference. London, 6th April 1893. CONTENTS PAGE ARTHUR SEYMOUR SULLIVAN • . I ALEXANDER CAMPBELL MACKENZIE • • 103 FREDERIC HYMEN COWEN • 173 • • • • CHARLES HUBERT HASTINGS PARRY • • 2 57 CHARLES VILLIERS STANFORD • • 281 LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS ARTHUR SULLIVAN . . . Frontispiece ARTHUR SULLIVAN (MENDELSSOHN SCHOLAR, i8 5 6). • To face p. I ARTHUR SEYMOUR SULLIVAN IN 1864 . ,, 20 FACSIMILE OF AUTOGRAPH SCORE OF “THE mikado” .,58 A. C. MACKENZIE. I0 3 A. C. MACKENZIE (KING’S SCHOLAR, 1862) „ Il6 BORGO-ALLA-COLLINA IN CASENTINO . . ,, 136 FREDERIC H. COWEN.. FREDERIC H. COWEN, AGED EIGHT YEARS 176 "CATCH ” FOR SIX VOICES, BY F. H. COWEN C. HUBERT H, PARRY C. V. STANFORD 28l LIBRARY ' UNIVERSITY Jt ILLINOIS. ARTHUR SULLIVAN Mendelssohn Scholar, 1856 ARTHUR SEYMOUR SULLIVAN nrivi f f nr 01 Of all the artistic careers in this country during the last fifty years, that of Arthur Sullivan is pei haps the most brilliant. No matter what difference of opinion may exist as to his absolute or comparative greatness, there is com¬ plete unanimity as regards the brilliancy of his career. Most regard him as the greatest musician of his country. Whenever occasion requires that we trot out ; our representative English musician, with one accord we point to him. His name is a household word. He is one of the few artists for whom the public has a true affection, quite apart from its admiration. As the only career parallel to his, that of Adelina Patti has been instanced. The sug¬ gestion is not without point. Both are pro¬ ducts of the “forties,” both have Italian blood in their veins, both have reached the highest pinnacle of success, and both are truly beloved MASTERS OF ENGLISH MUSIC by a country which has a reputation for callous- ness with respect to the providers of its artis¬ tic pleasure. Upon no two of her children has fortune smiled more benignly. And we are glad that it is so. I would conjure up no com¬ parison as to their relative merits in their re¬ spective spheres, nor would I be understood to hold a brief for the astrologists, though here is an excellent opportunity for them to * score.’ They would I have no doubt assure us that the “ horoscopes ” were very similar. All value that there is in the comparison is constituted in the mere fact of the comparison itself—the fact that for brilliancy, for a series of glorious triumphs, there is only, in the world of music, one career at all analogous to that of Arthur Sullivan. Curious as all else may be, it remains but coincidence. The Italian blood which there is in him comes from his mother, who was descended from an old family named Righi, the termin¬ ating “ i ” of which was afterwards Anglicised into “y.” His father was an Irishman, and a musician. The special branches of his art which he practised were those of bandmaster at the Royal Military College, Sandhurst, and later on professor of the clarionet at Kneller ARTHUR SEYMOUR SULLIVAN Hall. The former position he held from ,845 to 1856; the latter from the commencement of the existence of Kneller Hall as the “ Military School of Music,” in 1857, till his death. 1 nomas Sullivan had two sons, Frederic and Aithur. 1 he latter and younger, with whom we are chiefly concerned, was born in London on Lay r3, 1842. The early influence was of the happiest, for the father was an enthusiast in his art. We can imagine the loving fondness wit which he fostered the musical sensi- flity which the boy showed almost in his infancy. We can picture the joy it was to him to find in his second son what he had perhaps longed to find in his firstborn, a virgin soil wheron he might sow the seeds of sound, with well nigh certainty that they would strike root, and yield in plenty. Every childish longing to know more of what he heard around him—for he accompanied his father daily to his band practice—was ministered to with a loving care not only by the father, but by the players themselves. No practice was complete without the little curly-headed fellow, with his rosy face and darkly wondrous eyes, running hither and thither, happier there by far than with all the toys imaginable. And so it went on until he 3 MASTERS OF ENGLISH MUSIC reached eight years of age, by which time, incre¬ dible as it may sound, there was hardly a wind instrument that he could not play with more or less facility. Even thus early there was no doubt left in Mr. Sullivan’s mind that his son would be a musician, and he hoped a dis¬ tinguished one. But he was in no hurry for him to commence anything approaching a serious training. On the contrary, he decided that it would be best to get the boy away from all sound of music for a time. So he sent him to a private school in Bayswater. Here he re¬ mained until he was eleven. But the natural love of music within him was too strong thus to be repressed. He had heard that there was such a thing as a choir school in connection with the Chapel Royal, and nothing would do but that his father should place him there. In vain was all remonstrance, and in the end he had his way. He had an unusually beautiful treble voice, and, quite unaided, had learned to sing those arias which he had heard at home, and which even then he loved. Before he could enter the Chapel Royal it was necessary that his voice should be tried. His master therefore, acting under instructions from his father, took him to Sir George Smart, to whom 4 ARTHUR SEYMOUR SULLIVAN he sang. He in turn sent him to find out the Rev. Thomas Helmore, who was then master at the Chapel Royal, St. James’s. It happened that Mr. Helmore had recently removed from the house which he had occupied, and on the arrival of the boy and his master there, was not to be found. To make matters worse, the people in the house were unable to give any information as to his whereabouts. Here was an unlooked-for dilemma, at which the little fellow was quite heartbroken. But he deter¬ mined not to be beaten, and proceeded from baker to butcher, from butcher to draper, in the vicinity, until at last he was rewarded. Mr. Hel¬ more, they told him, had moved to Cheyne Walk. Off he went, as fast as his little legs could carry him, to Chelsea. Arrived there, he found the master without difficulty ; and having found him, he sang to him—sang to him “ With verdure clad”—with so pure a voice, so true an instinct, that two days afterwards he received a note to the effect that he might join the school. This was on the Tuesday in Holy Week, 1854 On the following Thursday he had learned and sung the treble part in Nares' anthem, “ Blessed is He,” and astonished every one. “ His voice was very sweet,” said Mr. Helmore, “ and his 5 MASTERS OF ENGLISH MUSIC style of singing far more sympathetic than that of most boys.” It would be impossible to overrate the good fortune which was his in coming at so susceptible an age under the influence of such a man as was Thomas Helmore. Besides being a good scholar and an earnest divine, he was a born schoolmaster as well as a cultured musician. His influence over the boys was of that order which endures, and the effect of which is ever felt by the man in after-life. They lived with him in Cheyne Walk, and with him they walked daily to services at St. James’s. He was no bigot. He did not weary them with Scriptural precepts. Rather did he strive to lead them by force of example, by force of circumstances in their daily life, and by instilling into them and fostering that esprit de corps which we term ‘ schoolboy honour,’ which is one of the purest forms of honour, and which, if he be worth his salt, is inherent in every boy, and only needs the fostering. There was nothing of the ‘ prig ’ in Helmore’s boys, yet they were good boys, and would have scorned a dirty trick. Not one of them but remembers the morning, when as¬ sembled in class for their usual lesson, they were bade put down their books and listen. The 6 ARTHUR SEYMOUR SULLIVAN news had just arrived of the great battle of the Alma. For lesson he read them W. H. Russell’s brilliant account of it, word for word, from the Times . It was one of the greatest lessons that they ever had—a lesson of courage, of steadfastness, of humanity that they never forgot. It appealed to every good instinct in their frank boyish natures. It roused the “ man ” within them, and they realised (more fully than anything else could have made them) that they had a duty to fulfil—a duty to them¬ selves and to each other—in that other battle of life which each would have to fight. Sullivan was only three years at the Chapel Royal; yet in that short time it was that he acquired much of that solid musical masonry upon which his work has been founded, and which has proved so sure. Here it was that he made his first attempts at musical composition. His first song, “ O Israel ”—a boyish homage to Mendelssohn, for it breathes “ Hear ye Israel ” in every bar—was written at this time. This he followed with an anthem, which was duly sung in the Chapel. How proud he felt when Bishop Blomfield, who was then Dean of the Chapel Royal, hearing that it was the work of one of the boys, sent for him, patted him on the 7 MASTERS OF ENGLISH MUSIC head, and gave him half a sovereign—the first half-sovereign he had ever earned! At this time he had had but eighteen months’ actual musical study ; but six months later it was put to a test which showed that, if it had not been lengthy, it had been indeed thorough. This was in 1856. Some ten years previously a movement had been made among the friends of Mendelssohn in Leipsic to found a scholarship in his memory. As soon as the matter had taken definite shape they appealed to his admirers in England for support. This was readily accorded, and a committee, with Mr. Carl Klingemann (Men¬ delssohn’s intimate friend) as secretary, was formed in London. In order to raise the necessary funds it was decided to take advantage of a generous offer to give her services made by Madame Jenny Lind, and to perform the “ Elijah ” on a grand scale. This, with the aid of the Sacred Harmonic Society and Mr. Julius Benedict, took place on the 15th December 1848. The result was a sum of some thousand pounds, which was invested and formed the nucleus of what is now our Mendelssohn Scholarship. The original plan, however, of amalgamating the London and Leipsic projects 8 ARTHUR SEYMOUR SULLIVAN fell through, and it was not until 1856 that the scholarship was actually thrown open for com¬ petition. Directly Sullivan saw it announced in the papers he determined to compete for it. Mr. Helm ore was quite willing that he should do so, and worked hard with him, determined that he should astonish the examiners, in spite of his age. He did more than this, for when the result of the examination was made public, he found himself elected first Mendelssohn Scholar. From among the many competitors there was only one other to compare with him, and that was Joseph Barnby. To this day he declares that, in the course of the many momentous episodes of his career, he never suffered more keenly the hopes and fears of expectation than when awaiting the judges’ decision. And in after-life he remembered this his first step to fame and fortune, and in memory of it increased the value of the scholarship by some a year. Although he now entered the Academy and enjoyed the benefits of the prize he had gained, he did not leave the Chapel Royal. His voice and talents were too valuable to be spared there until it was absolutely necessary. For two 9 MASTERS OF ENGLISH MUSIC years he studied harmony and counterpoint with Goss, and the pianoforte with Sterndale Bennett and O’Leary. Then his voice broke, and the committee decided that it was time for him to go to Leipsic ; so in the autumn of 1858 he left. On his way across he was robbed of all his little stock of money, and had it not been for the kindly help of a fellow-traveller there is no knowing in what straits he might have found himself. Arrived at Leipsic, he entered the Conserva¬ toire. Here he had for masters Hauptmann, Julius Rietz, Moscheles, and Plaidy—the first-named two for composition, and the latter for pianoforte. Of Plaidy he says: “His class was always thronged, and his instruction eagerly sought by pupils from all parts of the world. This popularity arose from his remarkable gift (for it was a gift) of imparting technical power. Were a pupil ever so deficient in execution, under Plaidy’s care his faults would disappear, his fingers grow strong, his touch become smooth, singing and equal, and slovenliness be replaced by neatness. Great attention to every detail, unwearying patience, and a genuine enthusiasm for the mechanical part of pianoforte playing were his most striking characteristics.”* * Grove’s “ Dictionary of Music.” 10 ARTHUR SEYMOUR SULLIVAN At Leipsic he worked very hard both at pianoforte playing and composition. The first we hear of his efforts in the latter direction is in connection with his overture, “The Light of the Harem,” which received a hearing at the stu¬ dents’ concerts. The Leipziger Journal of that year has mention of this. It says: “To-day’s examination was devoted partly to composition and partly to ensemble playing. With regard to the former we rejoiced in discovering in young Sullivan a talent for which, with earnest study, one may confidently predict a bright future. His overture, although somewhat lengthy, aimed with well-chosen means and full consciousness at a definite end. That he frequently consulted Mendelssohn we will not lay to his charge, as it would be looking for impossibilities to expect originality in such first attempts.” At this time Mendelssohn, Schumann, and Schubert were his ideals, and he could not but reflect them in his work. Indeed he has always been strongly influenced by the latter master. The Wagner of “ Tannhauser ” and “ Lohengrin ” also appealed strongly to him, although he has never been much in sympathy with either 1 ristan ” or the “ Nibelungen.” MASTERS OF ENGLISH MUSIC His overture was shortly afterwards followed by a string quartet. This work was heard by Spohr in Leipsic; and when the lad was intro¬ duced to him, the master could hardly believe that it was he who had written it. “ So jung,” he exclaimed, “ und doch so weit in der Kunst! ” (So young, yet so advanced in art!) This encouragement by so great a musician spurred the young composer on more than ever. He determined to write something which he could show to the Mendelssohn scholarship committee on his return — something which should prove to them that they had made no mistake in their estimate of his powers. The work eventually took the form of incidental music to Shakespeare’s “ Tempest.” It was per¬ formed at the annual concert in Leipsic in the early part of ’61. In the same year Sullivan returned to London, bringing the score with him. A few months after his return he added several numbers to the “Tempest” music, and it was produced at the Crystal Palace Concert on April 5, 1862. Its success was imme¬ diate and emphatic, and 'on the following Saturday it was, by general request, repeated. Amongst those who came to hear it on this 12 ARTHUR SEYMOUR SULLIVAN occasion was Charles Dickens. He was waiting outside the artists’ room as Sullivan came out, and going up to him and shaking him by the hand, he said, “ I don’t profess to know anything about music, but I do know that I have listened to a very beautiful work.” Shortly after this, Dickens accompanied Sullivan and Chorley to Paris, and there existed between the novelist and the musician one of the firmest of friendships, and one which was only severed by death. In Paris Sullivan made the acquaintance of Rossini. The Italian master was greatly struck with his talent, and morning after morning would insist upon playing with him the four- handed arrangement of the “Tempest” music. It is not difficult to understand the fascination it had for him. The freedom of its melody, the freshness of its conception, the joyousness of its spirit, the piquancy of the scoring, were one and all calculated to appeal strongly to the composer of ‘II Barbiere.’ Moreover, Rossini delighted in having young people around him, and there are not a few musicians and others who well remember many happy days spent with the old maestro at his pretty villa at Passy where he was wont to pass his summer. Sullivan, one of his ‘ jeunes confreres ’ as he used to call them, 13 MASTERS OF ENGLISH MUSIC enjoyed many delightful hours with him, and to-day treasures a beautiful miniature which the maestro gave him as a parting gift, as one of the most valuable of the many souvenirs which he possesses. Personally I look upon his intimacy with the Italian composer at this time as having greatly influenced him. At all events he was, immedi¬ ately after his visit to Paris, consumed with a strong desire to know more of opera and things operatic. Madame Viardot Garcia’s impersona¬ tion of £ Orfeo,’ which he had seen in Paris, had also left a lasting impression upon him. Yet he did not feel quite equal to giving adequate expression to his feelings in music until he knew something of the technique of the stage. To acquire this was a matter of no small difficulty. At last he decided to write to his friend Michael Costa, who was then conductor of the Opera at Covent Garden, and ask that he might be allowed to attend rehearsals there. Costa, however, refused, saying that he could make no exception to his stringent rule that no one should be allowed to attend rehearsal save those who were taking an active part in it. Neverthe¬ less he did not fail to recognise that his young friend only sought it as a means to an end and ARTHUR SEYMOUR SULLIVAN in no spirit of idle curiosity. He therefore proposed a compromise, to the effect that he should undertake the duties of organist to the Opera. He would then, of course, have un¬ limited access to the theatre, and would acquire the . experience he sought. This the young musician gladly accepted, and it proved of greater benefit to him than he had ever thought possible. He had been there but a short time when, at the conductor’s request, he wrote a Ballet for the opera. It was entitled “ L’ile Enchantee. From it alone he learnt much that was of value to him. The mere fact of having to subordinate his music to the requirements of the inventors, the scene-painters, stage machin¬ ists, and premiere danseuse , each of whom had not one but many words to say, was of itself a valuable lesson—the more so as these people were the best of their kind, and the sugges¬ tions they made were generally the outcome of knowledge and experience. It was well that he was even at that time possessed of an almost phenomenal facility of writing, or many of the demands made upon him could not have been complied with. Certainly the things he was called upon to illustrate musically were not lacking in variety. i5 MASTERS OF ENGLISH MUSIC For instance he says: “On one occasion I was admiring the ‘ borders ’ that Beverley had painted for a woodland scene. ‘Yes,’ he replied, ‘ they are very delicate, and if you could support them by something suggestive in the orchestra, we could get a pretty effect.’ I at once put into the score some delicate arpeggio work for flutes and clarionets, and Beverley was quite happy. The next day probably some such scene as the following would occur. Mr. Sloman, stage machinist (ioq.), ‘That iron doesn’t run in the slot as easily as I should like, Mr. Sullivan—we must have a little more music to carry her (Salvioni) across. I should like something for the ’cellos. Could you do it! ’ ‘Certainly, Mr. Sloman. You have opened a new path of beauty in orchestration,’ I replied gravely, and I at once added sixteen bars for the ’cello alone. No sooner was this done than a variation (solo-dance) was required, at the last moment, for the second danseuse who had just arrived. ‘ What on earth am I to do ? ’ I said to the stage manager, ‘ I haven’t seen her dance yet, and know nothing of her style.’ ‘I’ll see,’ he replied, and took the young lady aside. In five minutes he returned. ‘ I’ve arranged it all,’ he said. ‘ This is exactly what she wants 16 ARTHUR SEYMOUR SULLIVAN (giving it to me rhythmically), Tiddle-iddleum, tiddle-iddle-um, rum-tirum-tirum, sixteen bars of that; then rum-tum rum-tum, heavy you know, sixteen bars, and then finish up with the overture to “ William Tell,” last movement, sixteen bars and coda.' In ten minutes’ time I had com¬ posed it and written out a rtyetiteur's part, and it was at once rehearsed.” . Costa himself wa s, we know, a severe mar¬ tinet. Yet, autocratic, quick to take offence, and implacable as he was, he had a strong feeling of justice and was intensely kindhearted. He liked a strong staff about him and he liked them to be self-reliant. A man of iron nerve himself, he valued highly the possession of that quality in those under him. .It happened that an occasion arose in which, had not the young organist exercised the greatest presence of mind, nothing but the entire breakdown of the per¬ formance could have resulted. The opera was “ Faust,” and the house was packed. All went well until the church scene, in the midst of which the wire, connecting the pedal under Costa’s foot with the metronome stick at the organ, broke. In the concerted music this meant disaster, for the organist could hear nothing but his own instru¬ ment. Quick as thought, whilst he was playing MASTERS OF ENGLISH MUSIC the introductory solo, Sullivan called a stage hand. “ Go,” he said quickly, “and tell Mr. Costa the wire is broken and that he is to keep his ears open and follow meP No sooner had the man flown to deliver his message than the full meaning of his words flashed upon him. True, there had been no time for choice of expression, but what would Costa say to a message thus delivered by a stage hand, which, moreover, would certainly gain nothing of elegance in the telling ? The scene, however, went well, but at the end of the act he realised more fully than ever the arrogance (as it seemed to him) of his message, and approached his chief with no little nervousness. He commenced to apologise profusely. Costa, to his great surprise, stopped him at once, and shaking him by the hand said : “ No, no. Good boy, you kept your head and did quite right.” The great conductor never forgot the service which his young friend had rendered him, in saving him from what (although the result of pure accident) would have been nothing more nor less than a horrible fiasco. At this period he lost a lot of time writing an opera entitled “ The Sapphire Necklace,” the libretto of which, by Mr. Chorley, proved quite 18 ARTHUR SEYMOUR SULLIVAN unsuitable for stage representation. The over¬ ture is all that now exists of it, the remainder of the music having been utilised in other works. 1 hen came his cantata “ Kenilworth.’ 5 Here he suffered again at the hands of his librettist. It was produced at the Birmingham Festival (1864) and in spite of the patched-up libretto, the music did not fail to meet with recognition. Even now the interpolated scene from the “ Merchant of Venice,” “How sweet the moonlight sleeps” keeps its place in the concert-room. From this same time also dates his first success as a song-writer. « Orpheus with his lute which is one of his best songs-was now written and sold for a five-pound note. It has since been the source of an income of some hundreds yearly to its publishers. It must not be forgotten that, great as his artistic success had been, it had not been the means of bringing him in any considerable sum of money. He generally had a sufficiency for his needs, but by no means a superfluity. And although he was then, and has always been possessed of a strong spirit of true Bohemianism (for two of its constituent elements, the love of travel and the love of conversation, are his gieatest loves), he was none the less for that 19 MASTERS OF ENGLISH MUSIC desirous of worldly independence. Teaching as a means of livelihood he set his face against from the first. Yet composition in its more serious forms could not then be said to pay. He recognised full well that the duty of the man blessed with true genius in any art was to give free exercise to that genius; yet, on the other hand, he did not lose sight of the fact that the real purpose of a profession, be it that of music, literature, art or medicine, is to turn knowledge and talents to pecuniary profit. This he felt he must do in some way. A famous editor of the Quarterly Review once observed that “ a single hour of composition won from the business of the day is worth more than the whole day’s toil of him who works at the trade of literature; in the one case the spirit comes joyfully to refresh itself, like a hart to the water-brooks; in the other, it pursues its miserable way panting and jaded, with the dogs of hunger and necessity behind.” Now this is equally true of music, and lacks no amount of illustrative example. There is, with most artists, a very broad and distinctive line separating their professional from their truly inspirational work. But with Sullivan this is not markedly so. He, as I have said, recognised full well that if he persisted in his determination to ARTHUR SEYMOUR SULLIVAN IN 1864 I » ' library OF ME UNIVERSH v Jt LUWOlb. ARTHUR SEYMOUR SULLIVAN avoid the drudgery of teaching it would be necessary to replace it by some other professional activity as a means of money-making, and he determined to rely almost entirely upon composi¬ tion in one form or the other. His songs, even though in some primary instances he had dis¬ posed of them for a trifle, would as time went on become a source of handsome profit to him. This he could not fail to see. He resolved there¬ fore to devote himself in no small degree to the production of the lighter and smaller forms of his art. They, together with the performance of his duties as organist of the church (St. Michael’s, Chester Square, to which he had been appointed shortly after his return from Leipsic, and which post he held till 1867), should form the basis of his truly “ professional ” work. For a composer, the purely intellectual with no accompanying element of the professional must assuredly be the ideal life. But it was beyond his reach for the present at all events. All this he recog¬ nised and decided in his own mind. But now we come to what is really extraordinary. Having thus determined he sits down one evening, let us say, to write a song—in the exercise of his profession purely, just as a doctor would write a prescription for a patient. One might even go 21 MASTERS OF ENGLISH MUSIC so far as to say that he is avowedly about to compose what is very expressively described as a “ pot-boiler.” Well, in a short time it is finished. What do we find ? Invariably that it bears in every bar the stamp of true genius, of facile inspiration, that it smells not of the lamp at all—in a word, that it is ever beautiful, never laboured. It is from among these very “ pot-boilers,” if you will, that we find some of the loveliest of his youthful inspirations. Take for instance, “ I heard the nightingale,” “ Orpheus with his lute,” “ O Mistress mine,” “ Sweet day so cool,” “ The moon in silent brightness,” “ O fair dove, O fond dove ”—each and every one has beauty, many reveal real genius, all are geniality itself. This great faculty of being able at any moment to call upon his creative genius, be it on behalf of song or symphony, with well nigh certainty of response, is one of the most highly character¬ istic features of Sullivan as a musician. It has rarely failed him. A visit to Ireland about this time produced no less a work than his Symphony in E. It assuredly is tinged with his Irish impressions, and had its composer so wished it, could well have carried the title of “ Irish Symphony.” 22 ARTHUR SEYMOUR SULLIVAN Unfortunately it is, up to the present time, his only contribution to the great form of musical art, but it is one of the most perfect of all his orchestral compositions. The following year of 1866 was an eventful one for him both as a musician and a man. It saw the creation of two works, each of which, though differing widely from the other, was in its way highly typical of him. At an evening party at a friend’s house he had seen Du Mau- rier and Harold Power play Offenbach’s farce, “ Les Deux Aveugles.” It struck him that a similar extravaganza in English would be no less happy. On his way home from that party he mentioned his thought to Mr. Burnand. The latter was equally struck with it, and pro¬ posed an adaptation of J. Maddison Morton’s farce of “ Box and Cox.” This he lost no time in preparing, and shortly afterwards handed it completed to the composer, under the inverted title of “ Cox and Box.” Sullivan set to work on the music, and it was performed several times in private, but—as is his wont to this day —he wrote out no accompaniment, preferring, when required, to extemporise one himself. Some time afterwards it was arranged to perform the work at the Adelphi Theatre for the benefit 23 MASTERS OF ENGLISH MUSIC of a fund organised by the staff of Punch on behalf of their late colleague, C. Bennett, with the following caste : Box . . . M. G. Du Maurier. Cox . . . Mr. Harold Power. Sergeant Bouncer Mr. Arthur Blunt.* Full Orchestra conducted by the Composer. He deferred writing the accompaniment from week to week, from day to day, until the very last week had arrived, and the performance was announced for the following Saturday afternoon. Up to the previous Monday evening not a note for the orchestra was written. On that night he commenced to score, and finished two numbers before going to bed. On the Thursday evening two more had been completed and sent to the copyist, so that on Friday evening, at eight o’clock, when he again sat down to work, there were still five longish numbers to be scored, and the parts to be copied. Then began the tug of war. Two copyists were sent for, and as fast as a sheet of score was completed by the composer, the copyists in another room copied * This gentleman had not then joined the dramatic profession in which he afterwards made such a brilliant reputation as Mr. Arthur Cecil. 24 ARTHUR SEYMOUR SULLIVAN the parts. Throughout the night they kept it up, until at somewhere about seven in the morn¬ ing Sullivan, on going into the other room, found them both fast asleep. He was in despair. A moment’s thought, however, decided him. One thing was certain—there was no time to score. There was then but one alternative—to orches¬ trate the remaining numbers in parts . This he did, and at n a.m. all was finished, and at twelve the piece was rehearsed. What the achievement of a feat of this kind means—the strain on the memory and the application re¬ quired-only a musician can fully realise. But m this respect he is, at all events in England, unique. For rapidity of work he may have been equalled in the history of music, but I do not think he has been surpassed. “ Contraban- dista ” which followed “ Cox and Box ” was com¬ posed, scored, and rehearsed within sixteen days from the time he received the MS. libretto. The oveituie to “ Iolanthe ” was commenced at 9 p.m. and finished at seven the next morning. That to the “Yeomen of the Guard” was com¬ posed and scored in twelve hours, while the magnificent epilogue to the “Golden Legend,” which for dignity, breadth, and power stands out from amongst any of his choral examples, 25 MASTERS OF ENGLISH MUSIC was composed and scored within twenty-four hours. To merely write the number of notes in such a composition as this would be a feat to most men, but when all is perfection, as it is here, it is nothing short of prodigious. In this same year he had accepted an invita¬ tion to write a work for the Norwich Festival. As the time approached for its completion, he worked and worked, but without any result satisfactory to himself. About a month before the Festival, in sheer despair at his inability to satisfy himself, he said to his father (to whom he was passionately attached), “I shall give up the Norwich work; I can’t get an idea of any kind. I suppose that the fact of sitting down in cold blood to write an abstract work by a certain date with nothing suggestive to work upon, paralyses me.” “ No, my boy,” said his father.