PICTURED LIVES OF GREAT MUSICIANS by Alethea B. and Rebekah Crawford BACH, HAYDN, MOZART, BEETHOVEN, SCHUBERT, WAGNER (Parsifal) OF GREAT MUSICIANS By ALETHEA B. and REBEKAH CRAWFORD L/0C/Ÿ & Mozart Schubert bz. Bach Haydn Beethoven Wagner {Parsifal) V X i BOSTON C. C. BIRCHARD & COMPANYCopyright, 1924 By C. C. Birchard & Company International copyright secured2fn Uototng jlttcmorp OF ALETHEA B. CRAWFORDT il 11 TiiitrBT'iiTn>rT«i!rirxTirjTOiir>i j7TTiLB.wiiiiTiwì»iMiniraw ew«oa; ■<<«?£ an»  PICTURED LIVES OF GREAT MUSICIANS JOHANN SEBASTIAN BACH 1685-1750 HE German word “Bach” means “brook,” and, indeed, like a noble brook is the great family which bears this name. The Bach family can be traced almost to Eisenach its source among the mountains of Thuringia, flowing down, always clear, pure, and musical, ever receiving new accessions of likewise pure and musical waters, until at last itsbeauty and greatness culminate in the greatest of them all, — Johann Sebastian Bach, born in 1685 at Eisenach, in the grand duchy of Saxe-Weimar. Eisenach is a little town full of interesting memories, and famous for its music. In the fifteenth century its poor children used to wander about the streets, singing for alms. The master of the The Wartburg Eisenach school formed a strolling chorus in 1600, and similar choruses were continued for more than one hundred x ears. Xo doubt our great Bach, when a lad, marched through the streets singing, as, perhaps, Luther had done two hundred years before. There is a fine Wagner Museum at Eisenach, but the town remains an objective point to the traveler chiefly on account of its famous castle, theii a r n 9 Wartburg, to enter which one must (as they did centuries ago) cross on the old drawbridge. Nearly six hundred feet above Eisenach stands this t. / ancient abode of the Landgraves of Thuringia, and one must be a sturdy walker to enjoy the continuous ascent. Children and other travelers who find the route too formidable' may avail themselves of the brisk little donkeys that are kept at hand for transportation purposes. Each donkey has a pet name, and his photograph may be taken away as a ‘souvenir. Once attained, the height offers a magnificent view. In this castle overlooking the town the Sangerkrieg (minstrels’ contest) was held in 1207. No doubt Bach in his boyhood made many a journey to this place which, with its noble altitude, its history and association with musical events, must have been a source of inspiration to his impressionable mind. The house in which Bach was born attracts all visitors. This little German house is finely preserved, though it is said by those who have seen it that eight families or more now occupy the building. Bach belonged to a very musical lineage. In the middle of the seventeenth century there were at least thirty members of the Bach family who held responsible positions as organists in Saxony and in Thurin- gia. but it was left to this musician to make the Bach name famous in the history of music. When he was ten years old both his parents died, and he went to live with his elder brother, Johann Christoph, an organist at Ohrdruf, and Sebastian’s first teacher. He had a faithful little pupil, but, according to his idea, a too ambitious one. The boy could play all his lessons by heart, and aspired to more advanced music. The brother had in his possession a manuscript volume containing pieces by celebrated composersof the past which young Bach longed to play, but which his brother would not allow him to attempt. W hen young Bach found that his brother would not yield to his entreaties, he decided to have the book at any cost. When all in the house were fast asleep he would creep downstairs and manage with his little hands to extract it from its supposedly safe hiding place; then, creeping back tremblingly to his garret room, he would copy it by the light House in which Bach was born of the moon, note by note. It took him six months to complete the task. Unfortunately for him his brother discovered the transcript shortly after its completion and robbed him of it. It was a crushing blow to his boyish hopes when he was not allowed to keep it, but he did not realize until after years the greater misfortune that followed from this ambitious task. The strain of copying the notes by moonlight injured his eyes so seriously that they always troubled him, and as he grew older the affliction increased.For several years before he died he was totally blind. His brother’s death left him alone in the world and dependent on his own resources, but with his youthful pluck he resolved to go to Lüneburg. Having a fine soprano voice, he obtained a place in the choir of St. Michael’s School, where, in return for his services, he received his education. He was instructed in both vocal and instrumental music, but organ and piano- t forte were his chief studies. Böhm, the organist at Lüne- Copying Music by Moonlight burg, inspired him to work; but Reinken, a renowned Dutch organist at Hamburg, and a wonderful player, was lii- I30Ä 1 sh admiration. Bach's chief recreation on holidays was to walk thirty miles to Hamburg and listen to Reinken’s grand music. It is interesting to know that Händel, about the same time, also came to Hamburg, where German opera was flourishing, but the two great masters never met. Once, when returning from one of his expeditions to Hamburg, young Bach found himself so hungry that, as he was passing an inn, he was glad to stop and sniff the deliciousaroma of cooking viands. No doubt the expression of his countenance was wistful in the extreme, and certainly it was observed by some one, for he was suddenly aroused from his meditations by being struck by two herring heads thrown from inside the inn. He picked them up and, to his delight and surprise, found in each head a gold coin. Never was a gift more appreciated. The amount was sufficient to buy a -a « I—J a — J s Î a : a ■•* — zZ -a— —V * K 9— tzz îsaf . a—bt-— ai a® =f£=| 8— La * *=p- f-r w/* • u 1 1 LrF UZ a—*— F? Fh rfl& —i ^=A= / -^ a 1 p 1* a >- M-+- —-4 i LMV-flLJ2 l: i j ¿..ii—T 1 ft J 1^' M Î T'*-. 1 gitf< -= f Mf-fe " r riff f--q-a L-J—' a- ’?r =^PFRANZ JOSEPH HAYDN 1732-1809’ ». • «c. e.? —--------------- ----------- FRANZ JOSEPH HAYDN 1732-1809 SEE, my dear Hummel, the house in which Haydn was born. To think that so great a man should have seen the light in a peasant's wretched cottage.*’ Such were the words of Beethoven upon his death bed when he House in which Haydn was born was shown a lithograph print of Haydn’s birthplace. The house still exists and is very little changed. The windows to the right, the grass plot, and the fence have disappeared. There is now a bench under the window at the left and a rudely executed tablet inserted in the wall, bearing the words: “Here was born Joseph Haydn, March 31, 1732, at Rohrou on the Hungarian frontier.” The little place belonged to Count Harrach, who had employed Haydn’s parents. Many years later, upon the great composer sreturn from his English triumphs in 1795, the Count erected in his park a memorial to him. Haydn was never ashamed of his humble birthplace, and often spoke of it. When he revisited his old home, upon the occasion of the dedication of the Harrach memorial, he went to the old house first, where he knelt in the old sitting room, kissed its threshold, and pointed out the settle where he had once displayed in sport that childish musical skill which was an indication of Playing with his Father his future artistic career. Once, in recalling his past struggles, he said: “The young may learn from me that something may come out of nothing. What I am is entirely the result of the most pressing necessity.” Haydn was descended from a long line of humble toilers. His father was a wheelwright, and his mother was a cook in the family of Count Harrach. Joseph was one of twelve children. Six died when very young, and three lived to become noted in the musical world. Haydn's father was by nature a lover of music. He had a fine tenor voice and could•w accompany himself on the harp without, however, being able to read music. After a hard day’s work it was in music that he sought recreation. His three children were always present to join in the singing as best they could. The earnings of the poor wheelwright were not enough to support his large family, and he and his wife determined to increase their income bv the aid of music. On Sundays and holidays they gave regular performances in the inn at Rohrou, where, after the evening services, the village people assembled. “Little Sepperl,” as Joseph was called, astonished every one bv his correct ear and sweet voice. More than this, he closely imitated the correct handling of a violin bow. His imaginary fiddle consisted of a small piece of wood, the bow being represented by a small twig of willow with which he scraped the board — gently, loudly, quickly, or slowly as the music required, his little head moving to and fro, keeping time with the utmost accuracy, as if he were playing in a band. A relative, Herr Frank, happened to be present at one of these meetings, and, thinking that the child must be very fond of music to be content with such a dumb instrument, offered to take him to Hamburg to be instructed. So at six years of age he went to the large town. Haydn returned home only as a visitor, but his parents’ influence was felt during his whole life and gratefully acknowledged. He would say, in his old age: “My parents were so strict in their lessons of neatness and order, even in my earliest vouth, that at last 7 «7 V 7 these habits became second nature.’’ In Hamburg Haydn learned the rudiments of music and developed his knowledge of the art. In one of his autobiographical sketches he writes: “Almighty God, to Whom I give thanks for all His unnumbered mercies, bestowed upon me such musical facility that even in my sixth year I sang with confidence several masses in the church choir, and could play a little on the violin and piano.” Besides this, while at Hamburg he studied the technique of all the ordinary instruments, and could play upon most of them. He also writes: “I thank Herr Frank, even in Improvised Kettledrum his grave, for making me work so hard, though I used to get more blows than food.” Shortly after Haydn’s arrival at Hainburg his ability was tested. It was in Passion Week, a time of numerous processions. The kettledrummer of the choir band had died, and the choirmaster was at a loss to know what to do. As he could not find a substitute, he decided to try his young pupil, Haydn. He showed little Joseph how touse the drum, and left him to practice. As he had no drum to practice on, he improvised one. He took a round basket filled with flour, covered it over with a cloth, then placed it upon an upholstered chair, the best one in the house, and drummed away with so much spirit that he did not observe the flour which had sifted out and ruined the chair. Of course he was scolded, but Herr Frank laughed when he found how well he could drum. As he was such a little fellow, and could not reach up to the man accustomed to carry the drum, a good-natured hunchback offered to carry the drum for him, and unfortunately caused much laughter in the procession. When Haydn grew to be a man he often led orchestras and bowed his thanks to applauding thousands, but he never experienced a prouder moment than when, scantily clad and half starved, he marched proudly in that procession beating the big drum. Haydn thus gained a practical knowledge of the drum, and the drum parts in his symphonies are of especial importance. This first appearance of the boy convinced Herr Frank that Haydn was destined for a musical career. His industry was great, and his beautiful voice was much admired. The result was that in two years he went to Vienna under happier auspices. One day Herr Reutter, the court composer at Vienna, visited Hamburg in search of boy singers to be choristers in the great St. Stephen’s Church at A ienna. The pastor of the Hamburg church was an intimate friend of Choirmaster Reutter, and he told him about little Ha\ dn, w ho was sent for to appear before Herr Reutter at the Dean s house, where he was a guest. Little Joseph, lacking a mother’s care, presented a shabby appearance. He already had adopted the bob wig so familiar in all his pictures. Therehappened to be some cherries on the Dean’s table, and little Joseph, being scantily fed, could not keep his eyes off them. Reutter noticed it and gave him some. He then made him sing some Latin and Italian strophes, the meaning of which Haydn did not know; but Reutter seemed satisfied and asked him to execute a shake, which of course he Haydn's Introduction to Reutter could not do. So, in a childish way, the little musician said he could not shake, nor could his teacher, either. Reutter laughed and gave him a few suggestions. He imitated his instructor so well and showed such promise that he was accepted. Thus, at the age of eight, he became a chorister boy at St. Stephens Church, where he remained for five or six years. The house in which he lived was closeto the Cathedral. His days were spent in singing in the choir or in study; but Reutter grew neglectful of his pupil and gave him little instruction. Being thrown on his own resources, he indulged his instinct for composition, although his knowledge of that branch of music was meager. During this period he was as much a boy as his comrades, and as fond of fun and mischief. Unfortunately this led him into serious trouble. He became possessor of a new pair of scissors, and the pigtail of one of his school fellows suggested an opportunity for their use. The fatal scissors met and the pigtail was removed. Reutter condemned him to a caning and then expelled him. It was in November, 1749, when Haydn was turned adrift. Hungry and weary he wandered all night in the streets of Vienna, and in the morning he was found almost exhausted, by an acquaintance, Spangler, also a chorister, who took him to his garret and gave him lodgings through the winter. Haydn earned a pittance by fiddling at balls and by arranging musical compositions. Finally, a Viennese merchant loaned him 150 florins, without either interest or security, “until better days should come." Haydn faithfully repaid it, and half a century afterward, in token of his gratitude, he left in his will 150 florins to the merchant's granddaughter. Haydn took lodgings in the sixth story of a large house in a good part of the city. His room was scarcely large enough for him to turn around in. It had neither window nor stove. The roof was old, and snow and rain made their way through it. Life was indeed hard, but he was constantly at work, and having bought a cheap edition of Fux’s Gradus and the Sonatas of Philip Emanuel Bach, he was preparing himself for the life he vowed should be his, — that of a composer, and he was happy. He said to his friend, Greisinger, “WhenI sit down at my old worm-eaten clavier I envy no king liis good fortune.” By the aid of his clavier — for Haydn, unlike Beethoven, required an instrument to compose by — he wrote a short four-part mass, which, by a curious accident, came into his a I tv o years later. It was his first great work, and the old man was delighted with its youthful fire and melodv. About this time the young musician became acquainted with the poet Metastatio, who wrote many libretti for Gluck, and through him he met Niccolo Porpora, called the Patriarch of Melody.” The musical training of the poet’s adopted daughter, Marianna Martines, was confided to Haydn, who wrote many charming duets for her. She was also taking singing lessons of Porpora, and Haydn often went with the little girl to play her accompaniments. The Italian master soon found Haydn most useful, and arranged with him to be his accompanist and general utility man, in return for which he would give him lessons in composition, in singing, and in Italian. In this picture, we see Porpora giving a singing lesson to the wife of Correr, the Venetian ambassador. Many of Hav dn s biographers assert that he was engaged in a menial capacity for a time (he has been called ' Porpora’s boot-black”), and afterward was promoted to the position of accompanist during an artistic tour which Porpora made in Germany. Haydn’s first decided good fortune was his appointment in 1759 as music director to Count Morzin, a wealthy Bohemian, who had a private band of sixteen or eighteen performers at his country house near Pilsen. For him Haydn wrote his first symphony, a work which, though small and light,” contained that germ of unitv and clearness which made it the worthy precursor, not only of his own classic compositions for grand orchestra, but also of those bv Mozart, Beethoven, and others. ‘'Haydn,” says Carpani, “like Columbus, opened the way to a new world. He was ‘the father of symphony.’” One condition attached to Count Morzin’s service was celibacy, but Haydn, always susceptible, had lost his heart to one of Porpora's Singing Lesson his pupils, the youngest daughter of a hairdresser named Keller. She did not return his affection, but took the vows of a nun instead. So father Keller proposed he should marry his eldest daughter, Maria Anna Alozsia Apollonia. As the Kellers sheltered Haydn once during his extreme poverty, it is thought that gratitude for past kindness induced him to agree to the marriage, which occurred in November, 1760. It is enough to say they were married, but not mated.She used her husband’s compositions with equal indifference as gifts to her friends or for curl papers. Count Morzin did not find out that Haydn was married until six months after; but another circumstance was the real cause of his losing his position. The Count felt compelled to curtail expenses, so his musicians were dismissed and his establishment closed. e Ha\ dn was with the Count, Prince Esterhazv had heard one of his compositions and was so charmed with it that he asked the Count to let him engage Haydn as his assistant choirmaster. Several months passed without any orders being received, so Haydn wrote a svmphonv which he managed to have performed on Esterhazv’s birthdav, on which occasion the composer was present. Prince Ester-hazy was delighted with the music and inquired who wrote it. Haydn, poor and shabbily dressed, was presented to him as the author. “What! Is the music by this Moor? W ell, Moor, from this moment you are in my service. What’s your name?” “Joseph Haydn, Your Excellence.” But I remember that name. A on are already in my household. How is it that I have not seen you before? Well, go i 11 ess \ ourself like a choirmaster. I don’t want to see you like this. You are so little and look so shabby. Get a new coat, a proper wig with curls, bands and red-heeled shoes. Let them be high, so that your stature may accord a -a provided for you.” And, with humble thanks, the poor artist accepted the position to be one of Esterhazy s household. Haydn’s appointment as vice choirmaster was confirmed in 1761. It speaks well for Haydn’s temper that he lived peaceably with his nominal superior, old Werner, who had been choirmaster for nearly one-third of a centurv.Prince Esterhazy lived onlv one year after Haydn’s appoint-ment, and was succeeded by his brother, known as “Nicholas the Magnificent.” He had fabulous wealth, and his personal attractions and popularity would have made him an idol in Vienna society, yet he preferred the country. He occupied himself by building a new Versailles at Esterhaz on the southern shore of the vast Lake Neuseidler. On this un-healthful site, not drained until fifteen years later, he erected the new palace, containing one hundred and sixty-two rooms, white marble reception room, splendid library, theatre, and opera house. It was finished in 1766, and, Werner having died, Haydn became choirmaster. His salary amounted to about $500 a year. He had a suite of three rooms, and had plenty of time for composition, hunting, and fishing. The contract between Prince Esterhazv and Haydn shows how much of a servant the musician was in the last century. In the articles Haydn is commanded to be strictly temperate, to abstain from any coarseness in eating, in dress, or in manners, and he was at this time constantlv addressed in the contemptuous third person. Nevertheless, he was delighted with the quality of his sixteen musicians and with his vocalists. That he remained true to his friendships and his art is shown by his declaration in later life: “I have associated c with emperors and queens and many great gentlemen, and have had many flattering remarks from them, but I do not care to live on a confidential footing with such people, and prefer folk of my own wealth in life.” There is a funny story connected with the Farewell Symphony (more often called The Surprise Symphony), written in 1772. It seems that the Prince stayed longer at his castle* of Esterhaz than was agreeable to his musicians, who desired to see their families in Vienna. They appealed to Haydn to intercede in their behalf. The choirmaster svm-pathized with them, but was in a quandary about presenting their petitions to Prince Esterhazy, who had declared he would remain at his castle two months longer. So Haydn planned the finale of this symphony as a gentle hint to the The Farewell Symphony Prince. In the midst of an important part one instrument ceased, the musician noiselessly folded up his music, put out his candle and went away. Soon a second finished and went off also; a third and fourth followed, extinguishing their lights, and taking their instruments away. The orchestra grew smaller, naturally, and more indistinct. The Prince and his friends sat in silent wonder. Finally, when all but one player had departed, Haydn took his candle and silently withdrew. Only the first violinist re-HAYDN 45 mained. Haydn had purposely selected him, as his plnj ing was very pleasing to the Prince, who would feel obliged to wait until the conclusion. The end came at last. The solitary light was extinguished, and the last player disappeared, whereupon the Prince rose and said: If all go, we may as well go.” He followed the musicians to the anteroom and greeted them with these words: Haydn, the gentlemen have my consent to go to A ienna to-morrow. In 1785, when Haydn’s art was firmly established abroad, he was commissioned by the chapter of the Cathedral at Cadiz to compose some music for Good Friday, to follow after an explanation by the priest of the Seven AA ords of our Saviour on the Cross. Haydn, in one of his letters, v rites that only instrumental music can express the Seven AA ords, and he always considered this one of his best works. It was afterwards enlarged into a cantata. It was performed twice in London under his own direction. In the finale he has an earthquake effect which is most impressive. A Hungarian butcher once went to Haydn when he was living with Prince Esterhazy, and begged him to write a minuet, a new one, different from any of his other minuets, that might be played for the first time at the wedding festivities of the butcher’s daughter. Haydn was amused at the request and the butcher's earnestness about it. So, like the good-natured fellow, as he called himself, he promised to have the minuet ready at the time named. Accordingly, when Herr Butcher appeared a few days later HaA dn produced the piece, played it and then presented it to the honest tradesman, who, with many bows, took the prize and v ent away, forgetting, in his emotion, to say thank j ou. One day, about a month afterward, Haydn heard strange noises under his window. Although the music w as uncouth and  bad enough, he thought he recognized in it the tune of the minuet he had composed for the butcher. Looking out of the v indow, he saw a strange sight. A magnificent ox, decked out with flowers and leaves, was being led up to his door, amid the rejoicing clang of the music, with the butcher at the head of the procession, hat in hand, waiting for Haydn The Ox Minuet to appear. This is what he said: “Mein Herr Haydn, you no doubt wondered that I had nothing to say when you gave me the beautiful minuet. The fact was, all the words I v anted to say didn’t seem to come somehow; but at the feast, when old and young were dancing away so merrily to your tune, thinks I to myself, he shall have the best ox I can find, and that won’t be good enough for our great and generous Herr Haydn. So, your honor, I’ll take it tothe yard with your permission, and may you have good luck with it." And there the ox went, and the next day Havdn sold it to Prince Esterhazy for a good round sum. The minuet will always be called The Ox Minuet to the end of time. Many of Haydn’s compositions have nicknames, owing to some peculiar incident associated with them. One of his quartettes is called The Razor Quartette, because when Bland, the English publisher, visited him one morning he found him shaving. Haydn grumbled at the dulness of his razor, and said: “I’d give my best quartette for an English razor." Bland rushed off to his own lodgings and soon returned with his own razor which he presented to Haydn, who gave in return his latest quartette, ever after called The Razor Quartette. Haydn's hands were comparatively small, and he sometimes had difficulty in striking all the notes in a complicated chord. But he was resourceful. One day he was playing a great piece. The music crashed and rolled and died away into soft, dreamy melody, to wake again in stirring harmony. Havdn was entranced. Suddenly he came to a passage where, after using every available finger, he found one note which he was unable to reach, and that a note necessary to complete the harmony. Nature had given him a very long nose. Quick as a flash he struck the elusive kev until his nose — and saved his harmony. In 1790 Prince Esterhazy died and left Haydn a good pension. Prince Anton, his successor, dismissed the orchestra but allowed Havdn 400 florins a year. He was now free to accept some of the offers made to him. He finally accepted one from Salomon, a London manager and conductor. The following conversation took place betweenHaydn and Mozart before his departure for England: ‘'Papa Haydn,” said Mozart, “you are fifty-eight years old. You should not leave your own country; you have no training for the great world and speak too few languages.” Haydn replied: “My dear boy, I’m still strong and active, and my language is known all over the world.” The day before his departure Mozart spent with him, and at the moment of separation he exclaimed: “We are saying our last farewell.” Haydn also was deeply moved. He was twenty-four years older than Mozart, and the thought of his own death occurred to him. When, one year later, he heard of Mozart’s death, his grief was deep and sincere, as the friendship between the two had been delightful. This London visit broadened Haydn’s intellectual horizon and gave his fancy freer development. On one occasion earlier in life Haydn received a commission from a comic actor to put a farce of his to music. The farce was called The Devil on Two Sticks. The well-known story of Haydn’s Tempest Music is connected with this. In one part a terrible thunderstorm at sea is supposed to be raging. The music must tell the story. As he had never seen the ocean, he had not the slightest idea of what a storm at sea might be. The actor tried to tell him about the waves running mountain high, the pitching and tossing of the ship, the rolling of the thunder and howling of the wind, but Haydn only brought forth jerky sounds on the piano. The actor was hoarse in consequence of his efforts to make the composer understand. Finally, in a rage, Haydn crashed his hands on the two ends of the instrument and cried: “Let’s have done with this tempest!” The actor sprang up and embraced him, saying: “That is the right thing!” And, with this crash and a run of chromatics to the centerof the piano, this troublesome tempest was rendered in a most satisfactory manner. Years after, when Haydn was crossing the Straits of Dover to England, he had occasion to think of this tempest. All the way over he remained on deck to watch that huge monster, the sea. It was his first glimpse of it, and, though he was fascinated, he acknowledged himself frightened and Crossing the English Channel uncomfortable. He was very seasick, but amid his suffering he could not refrain from laughing at his recollection of that early experience. Haydn’s arrival in London created a sensation. For three days his name was mentioned in every newspaper. Every day he was expected to dine at some notable’s house, and every one was curious to see him. Such honors had not been bestowed on any one for over fifty years; but sometimes he longed for Vienna, where he would have more time for work. He gave a series of concerts while in London, with ever-increasing success.Before he left England the University of Oxford conferred upon him the degree of Doctor of Music. In 1792 he returned to A ienna, where he had a great ovation, and two years later he went back to England. During this second and last visit to England even Royalty was at his feet. He was invited to spend the summer at Windsor Castle, but preferred to return to Vienna. During the war times of 1796, the High Chancellor, Count Saurau, determined to have a national song written facsimile of Manuscript of Austrian Hymn which would show to all the world the true devotion of the Austrian people to their good and upright King, the Father of His Country, and arouse in the hearts of all good Austrians that noble pride which was necessary to the energetic accomplishment of the beneficial measures of the Sovereign. Accordingly he asked the immortal Haydn to write an Austrian Hymn equivalent to the English HAYDN National Hymn. Haydn had already made an orchestral arrangement of the latter, and had been convinced, upon hearing it sung at public festivals, of the devotion of the English people to their king. He had also preserved his devotion to his own fatherland through many a sharp test, and his stay in England had served to show how much his Austrian home was to him. Therefore it was with pleasure that he began his work, and on February 12, 1797, the birthday of the Emperor, Haydn’s Emperor s Hymn was sung in all the theatres of Vienna. The construction of the melody is considered a masterpiece. If he had written nothing else but this song, his name would have been immortalized. The work that Haydn accomplished during his youth and early manhood was great, but it remained for his old age to accomplish his greatest work and the one by which he is best known, — the oratorio of The Creation. Soon after leaving London, where the words had been given him by Salomon, Haydn began to compose the music with great ardor. “Never was I so pious,” he said, “as when composing The Creation. I knelt down every day and prayed God to strengthen me for my work.” Its first performance was a private one at Schwartzenberg Palace on the 29th and 30th of April, 1798, and in public, nearly a year later, at the National Theatre. Haydn received the entire proceeds of this performance, — 4,000 florins (equivalent to about $1,600), all expenses having been paid by several noblemen. Its success was immediate. The whole audience was deeply impressed, and Haydn himself had difficulty in expressing his sensations. “One moment,” he said, “I was as cold as ice, the next I seemed on fire. More than once I was afraid I should have a stroke.” Only once Haydn52 PICTURED LIVES OF THE MUSICIANS conducted The Creation outside of Vienna. That was in 1800, before Archduke Palatine Joseph of Hungary. No sooner was the score engraved than the great oratorio was performed everywhere. After he wrote The Seasons, his public career as a composer came to a close. He lived in great retirement, and it was only at the request of his friends that he consented to appear once more in public. At Academy of Music to hear his Creation That was on March 27, 1808, at the Academy of Music at \ ienna, which was to close its season with a brilliant performance of The Creation under the direction of Salieri, a celebrated conductor of that period. The picture illustrates this event. The prospect of Haydn’s presence drew a great audience. All eyes were turned toward the seat of honor which had been reserved for him. At last the door leading into the orchestra opened, and Haydn, seated in a chair and accom- panied by his friends, was carried to his place. The whole assembly arose and rousing cheers greeted him, the band playing at the same time, while Haydn was too deeply moved to express his thanks. Finally the performance began, and the veteran composer was so overpowered by it that he suddenly rose from his chair, and, throwing up his arms, Havdn on his Death Bed exclaimed with tears in his eyes: “No, it is not my work; it came from above.“ He fell back in a state of exhaustion and was taken from the hall at the end of the first part. As he was carried away people of the highest rank thronged to take leave of him, and he was fervently embraced by Beethoven. At the door he paused and lifted his hand as if in the act of blessing.To so patriotic a subject it was a great sorrow to see the capital twice occupied by the enemy, — in 1805 and 1809. AA hen the city was bombarded the second time, the first shot fell not far from his house. He was an old man and was naturally alarmed, but his courage prevailed and he called out to his servants, “My children, be not frightened. No harm can come to you while Haydn is by.” A touching incident is related of those last days which serves to show the affection and esteem in which Haydn was universally held, even by the enemies of his country. The last visit he received as he lay on his death bed was from a French officer (Vienna being then in the hands of the French). This officer was a musician and a warm admirer of Haydn’s genius, and, moved by the occasion, he sang the aria “In Native AVorth and Honor Bound,” from The Creation, thus testifying to the veneration he felt for the composer, who was greatly affected by this recognition from an alien source. Shortly before his death he summoned his servants and was carried to the piano where he solemnly played the Emperor’s Hymn three times as a last expression of his patriotism. Five days later, May 31, 1809, he breathed his last, at the age of seventy-seven. The trouble which then prevailed in Adenna made it impossible to arrange a funeral. His remains were buried with great simplicity, and at the instance of his friends Mozart’s Requiem was performed in honor of his memory. A Home Scene He readily and gladly seated himself at the piano to play the part written for him, while Wolfgang played his part on his little violin, and Nannerl sang the arias. Only a short time after this Wolfgang w’as requested by the Empress to produce a comic opera, which he did; and it is very likely that he took some parts of it from the opera he had w’rittenMOZART 77 - ----------------————————— for the amusement of his father. But the little boy’s success and popularity aroused so much jealousy that his lather had to take him away from these scenes, and the opera he had written for the Empress had to be produced in private at the royal court, where it met with great success. A Private Concert at Vienna Here we see Mozart playing before a select audience at a private concert given by the Archbishop. His first experience in Vienna as organist of the court and cathedral was most unfortunate. He was treated by the Archbishop as though he were a slave, and was made to eat with persons of the lowest rank in the household. After this bitter experience Mozart threw off the tyranny of the Archbishopforever and became a free man, leading his chosen life of teaching and composing. In 1789 he traveled to Berlin and Leipsic, and it was on this tour that he stopped for an hour and played on the organ in the St. Thomas School, where the great master, Bach, had spent so many years. This picture shows you Playing on Organ at the School of St. Thomas Mozart at the organ. The cantor declared that it seemed to him as though his old teacher Bach had returned from the dead. Frederick William II, the King of Prussia, offered him a salary of 3,000 thalers (about $1,800) to be choirmaster at Berlin. He refused, saying: “Shall I forsake my good Emperor?” But the “good Emperor” re- MOZART 79 fused to increase the stipend he gave him. When Leopold became King, Mozart applied for the position of assistant choirmaster at the Cathedral, but was refused. His pupils grew less numerous, and in 1790 he had only two. In order to reach Frankfort for the coronation of the Emperor Leopold, he was obliged to raise funds by pawning his silverware. Program of Magic Flute In 1791 he composed an opera which he called The Magic Flute, the first program of which is here reproduced. This was first presented in 1791 and became his most successful opera, reaching its two hundredth performance in 1795. It brought enormous receipts to the manager, Schikaneder, but not one penny for Mozart. MMozart’s wife, Constance, proved a great blessing to him. When he returned home weary from teaching there was always a sweet face smiling a welcome. When he was composing (so wrapped up in his own thoughts and blind to all ordinary life), Constance saw to it that he was not dis- Mozart’s Wife turbed. When he was overworked she read aloud to him and told him entertaining stories. The following illustration shows us Mozart and Michael Haydn, brother of the great Haydn. Mozart found him in bed and greatly depressed, for Haydn had been ordered by the Bishop to write two duets for the violin and viola within a given time. Owing to his illness he felt unequal to the task, the non-fulfillment of which would involve great pecuniary loss. Mozart comforted him by saying that he need not bother himself about it; that he knew Michael’s style exactly and would write them for him. Three days later Mozart handed his friend two duets. “All you have to do «/ now is to put your name to the title-page, and I defy any Mozart and Michael Haydn one to say that these duets were not written by you, Michael Haydn,’’ he exclaimed. The secret was well kept, and it was not until years later that these duets appeared as Mozart’s work. Late in the year 1769 Mozart’s father determined to give his son the advantages of travel in Italy, not only for educational purposes, but to make the young man’s name better known. They visited Verona, Mantua, Milan and other important Italian cities, his fame increasing as they went, and reached Rome during Holy Week in the year 1770. They attended the great festivals at the Vatican, and what most excited his attention was an afternoon service at the Sistine Chapel, where he heard Allegri’s famous Miserere. This psalm, Miserere mei Deus, is a part of the service called Tenebrce, and is sung in the Sistine Chapel late in the afternoon of only three days in the year, — Wednesday of Holy Week, Maundy Thursday and Good Friday. It is a wonderfully impressive ceremony, and in Mozart’s time the music was jealously guarded. The boy was deeply affected by it -and knew it would not be possible for him to get a copv ol the music; but his marvelous memory enabled him that night to write down the entire Miserere with but few mistakes, as appeared by a surreptitious comparison when he heard it again on Good Friday. Although it was a violation of the law, his achievement was considered too great a feat to be condemned. His sense of pitch was extraordinary. When he was only seven years old he played on Schactner’s violin, which, on account of its soft tone, he called-“butterfiddle.” A few days afterward he was amusing himself with his own little violin when Schactner called. The little fellow, after a few moments of thought, said: “ What is your butterfiddle about? And, by the way, Herr Schactner, your violin is one-half of a quarter of a tone lower than mine; that is, if it is tuned the same as it was when I played on it last.” Herr Schactner laughed, and, at the request of the boy’s father, got his violin and found that the child was correct. The following picture shows the difference between an ordinary ear and the ear of this great musician. How much of Mozart’s delicacy of hearing was due to the shape of hisear is a question we cannot determine; but the difference shown in the picture is enough to cause conjecture. Mozart's Ear (at Left) compared with an Ordinary Ear Playing at the Borghese Palace He was in the greatest demand while in Rome, playing at concerts given by the notables of the day. One of the most celebrated occasions wras when he played in theBorghese Palace in the presence of a celebrated Cardinal, Pallavicini, who is seen in the picture. An amusing incident occurred at this concert. He played so marvelously that some one present ascribed his playing to the witchcraft of the diamond ring he wore. He took off the ring and played better than ever. The Cardinal introduced him to Mozart at the Age of Nine the Pope, who gave him the cross of the Order of the Golden Spur. But Wolfgang did not care for his title of “ Signor Cavaliere,” and soon dropped it, somewhat to his father’s disappointment. Likenesses of Mozart exist in great variety. More than twenty have been preserved, a few of which are presented MOZART •fit in these pages. The first one shows him at the age of nine years, when he was beginning to astonish musical circles by his precocious powers. As a boy he was slender, but he became stouter with years, as these illustrations show. He was somewhat below middle height and was not, perhaps, considered distinguished in appearance. Mozart as a Youth He is said to have had a nervous manner, with a restless and absent look in his eyes. But when he began to play he became a different being. His eyes brightened, all his nervousness disappeared, his whole soul seemed to be concentrated on his art, as the genius took the place of the man. He had a pleasant, fun-loving disposition and welcomed social diversions as a relief from hard brain-work. At such times he became the boy again. His later portraits present varying aspects of his personality, but the majority of them show him as a handsome man, having an ample forehead, regular features, cleft chin, and dreamy eyes with well-arched brows. His hair, of which From a Drawing he was somewhat vain, is powdered and in a tie. In some of his portraits he wears a high-collared, buttoned coat, plain neckcloth, and the wide-frilled shirt of the period. Some of the many pictures of Mozart have been declared spurious, but the examples given here are of undoubted authenticity.Mozart’s private character, which in his time was attacked and slandered, has, by the searching investigation of recent years, been found free from any reproach save that of improvidence. The latter defect may have been more apparent A Familiar Portrait than real, as his income was never large and he had many legitimate charges against it which prevented his saving money. His letters amply prove the generous, loving spirit of the bov and man. V One of the attractions of Salzburg is the Mozarteum, amuseum dedicated to memorials of him. Here is seen the room in which he was born. This and the adjoining room Mozarteum at Salzburg Room in which Mozart was born form at present the Mozart Museum, in which are deposited all original family portraits, busts, autographs, original manu- scripts of the minuet written during his fifth and sixth years, and many other relics. Mozart’s favorite grand piano and his spinet are to be seen in the museum at Salzburg. The piano, used by Mozart during the last ten years of his life, has five octaves, and was made bv the celebrated Anton Walter. Its value V Room containing Spinet and Grand Piano was estimated, after Mozart's death, at 80 florins (about $25), and it probably sold for less. It came into the possession of Hummel, the composer and pianist, and finally was given to the Mozarteum. The spinet has five octaves, and was used in composing The Magic Flute and the Requiem. In the background are thé pictures of the Mozart family, bv Carmontelle.This picture shows Mozart singing his last requiem. The story is that about the time he was writing The Magic Flute he received a visit from a tall man clad in gray, who handed him a letter containing a request for a requiem. Mozart agreed to furnish it, and was paid in advance a certain sum which was to be doubled on its completion. He had to promise to make no effort to discover his patron. Mozart The Requiem had been very ill and without money, and this strange request impressed him greatly. He was in the habit of going with his wife every morning for a stroll in the park, and one day he was much fatigued after his walk and fell asleep. This was what he dreamed: He was dead and in his grave, and around him was a choir of angels singing “God watching over us, slumbers not nor sleeps.” He had never heard anything half so beautiful; it was sweeter than any church music he had ever written. Upon awakening, and before the effect of the dream had passed away, he jotted down the notes in red chalk on the bench he was sitting upon, as he had no pencil or paper. While he was finishing a phrase, an official appeared and censured him for defacing the bench, but when he found the offender was Mozart, he allowed him to finish, and when the composer found he had no more room, the official ran off and got him another bench and told him there were plenty more where that bench came from. When the whole was written, Mozart arose from his knees and hummed the composition from beginning to end. The keeper offered to send the benches to Mozart’s house, but Mozart declined, saying, “I have it here,’’ pointing to his heart and head. In the Requiem Mozart is said to have expressed all the tender contrition of a sinner whose sins are forgiven. Every day for two months the keeper Geppert made a pilgrimage to the bench where he met the composer of The Magic Flute. Hour after hour he would sit on the bench waiting for Mozart, who never appeared. Finally, when the snow began to fall one day, some one approached him and asked him if he were Geppert, and, if so, he had a message from Mozart to the effect that he had completed the Requiem, and although he was desperately ill they were going to run it over the next day and wanted him to be present. The Requiem was sung, the dying Mozart taking the contralto part. Geppert was so overcome that he rushed out of the house without saying good-bye to the dying musician. On the following day, December 5, 1791, Mozart died, at the age of thirty-six. His remains were conveyed to the church- yard of St. Marx. Most of his friends were prevented from attending his funeral service on account of the fierce snowstorm that raged, and those who did go returned as soon as possible to the gaieties of Vienna. The city of Vienna paid a splendid tribute to the genius of Mozart by erecting to his memory a beautiful monument. Although monuments had been erected in his honor all over the civilized world, no stone marks the spot where his ashes are placed. His own immortal memorial he erected for himself in his works, and these show the truth of a remark Monument at Vienna of one of his admirers: “Mozart was a gift which heaven conferred upon earth.” Owing to an extraordinary story which was circulated to the effect that his skull had been stolen from a museum in Vienna, the matter was investigated and the historv has been given to the world. The skull was never in the museum at Vienna. It has now been placed in the Hyrtel Orphan Asylum at Noedling in Austria.The exact resting place of Mozart was known only to a grave digger, Joseph Rothmayer, who was also a skilled musician and great admirer of Mozart. In order to prevent the body from being stolen he wound long wires around the casket. Some time afterward, however, Rothmayer, animated by musical enthusiasm, opened the grave and stole The Skull of Mozart the skull, which he kept as a sacred relic until his death, when it became the property of one Radechopf, his successor. Both these men maintained the greatest secrecy about their ghastly treasure. Joseph Hyrtel became the next owner. He was also a musician of renown and an admirer of Mozart. Radechopf gave Hyrtel the skull as a mark of esteem, andon his death bed Hvrtel revealed the secret to his brother, who had the skull suitably inscribed and placed on a velvet cushion under a glass cover. In this condition the skull is still to be seen in the museum at Noedling. Mozart has often, been compared with Shakespeare, Goethe, Beethoven Haydn, and others, but the truest parallel is Raphael. In the works of both we admire the same marvelous beauty and refinement; the same pure harmony and ideal truthfulness. Both men took the same intense delight in creation, which made them regard each fresh work as a sacred task, and they felt the same gratitude to their Maker for His divine gift of genius. The influence of each upon his art was immeasurable. As painting has only one Raphael, so music has but one Mozart. We may well sav, in the words of one of his most com-petent critics, ‘‘Mozart was a king and a slave, — king in his own beautiful realm of music; slave of the circumstances and the conditions of this world. Once over the boundaries of his own kingdom and he was supreme; but the powers of the earth acknowledged not his sovereignty. O Mozart! Immortal Mozart! How many and what countless images of a brighter and a better world hast thou stamped upon our souls!”MOZART From Adagio of Pianoforte Sonata Köeli Verz: N2570 r-Ä- (,- • J -JÉ—Lt 9 x 9 a p-rir-*-fc iri p X» > F, ■ > 0«ff T~ c -—d ^■1 MMi MM r r— «T-—I- ■fV. - -fc-V L r r ' * w l -J' IP, UmhJ » ~V £T - . —k L Æ J « n ¡"7 7 “ ^U’ P«L JI 1——  hsbuhiLUDWIG VAN BEETHOVEN 1770-1827 The name and memory of Beethoven awaken in the hearts of lovers of music sentiments of the deepest reverence and admiration. The career of this great out- 9 — Beethoven's Birthplace 1* |r ft T u —J, * standing figure in the history of music marks the introduction of imagination into the classicism of his predecessors; the infusion of a warmth and ethical sentiment never before100 PICTURED LIVES OF THE MUSICIANS realized and never since equaled, which enlarged the sphere of human emotion in music as Shakespeare and Goethe enlarged the influence of poetry. To Beethoven belongs in prééminent degree the highest realization of music as a language of the emotions and a medium for their fullest expression. The first picture is of the city of Bonn, in Germany, the birthplace of the immortal Beethoven. In the foreground The Attic is a memorial monument on the pedestal of which the name “Beethoven” stands alone in all its rugged simplicity. It would have been easy to be eulogistic, but the name is sufficient; the greatest of tone masters requires no more. The scene above shows the attic room in the house in which Beethoven was born. On the tablet over a restaurant in Bonngasse (Spring Street) are cut in German the words:“In this house Ludwig van Beethoven was born, December 17, 1770.” There is some doubt about this date. His father was so anxious to have him an infant prodigy that he always represented him as being younger than he really was. His baptismal registration is dated December 17, 1770, and if the general custom was followed he was bap- The House in which he was born tized the day following his birth, which would thus be fixed as on December 16. The house, as you see, is forlorn. His father and also his grandfather were musicians in the court band of the Elector of Cologne, at Bonn. Like so many musicians, Ludwig gave early signs of his aptitude for the Divine Art. At four years of age he began to pick out tunes upon the102 PICTURED LIVES OF THE MUSICIANS tinkling clavier. It was from purely selfish motives that his father made him devote all his time to the violin and clavier. Mozart’s father watched over him with loving care, but the father of Beethoven thought only of the money his gifted boy could earn for him. His father was shiftless, intemperate, and lazy. Ludwig and his Teacher, Pfeiffer His teacher, Pfeiffer, was a clever musician who lodged with the Beethovens. Beethoven always declared that he learned more from him than from any one else, but Pfeiffer was ever ready to encourage the father’s tyranny. Very often, coming home at midnight from a late supper, they would make the little Beethoven get up and practice till the break of day. His next instructor was Neefe, an or-ganist, with whom he studied for several years. When he was only twelve years old, Beethoven acted as organist in Neefe’s place during the absence of the latter on a journey. Soon afterward he became assistant organist to the Elector Beethoven's Mother of Cologne at a small salary. Very early in life, while yet a mere child, he loved to improvise, but he did not preserve any of his vagrant fancies until he was twelve years old; then he wrote three little sonatas, colorless things, merely showing his acquaintance with Mozart and Haydn. His104 PICTURED LIVES OF THE MUSICIANS father published these early works with a dedication purporting to have been written by Beethoven to the Elector of Cologne. In this dedication he was made to call himself in his eleventh vear. .j—i v—«; 7— "f «5 : e r?—*- Il ~~ II 2^ >— 6 L i ■ ■ 1 ■ —sr—fcr-k a - 1 a • J-—- » -J 4 -/5pc 7 .7 7 • a 4 UT>-—* a ~a o □1 1 „ 'V •w V 1 J k~ J w/’ * „1 l<- 1— -r —0 Fine ► — TP— - - - 1 K > F r - 3 7 » 4= 1 *— 1813-1883 PARSIFAL WILHELM RICHARD WAGNER 1813-1883 PARSIFAL PARSIFAL is Wagner’s Swan Song, having been pro-dnced just one year before his death. Wagner, while searching for material for Tannhäuser, came across the poem of Parsifal by Wolfram von Esehenbaeh, and, as Wagner expressed it, an entirely new world of poetical matter opened before him. Wagner made no use of ideas suggested by the old poem till fifteen years later, when he began his poem of Parsifal during his stay at Zurich. Twenty years later he finished the poem, which was published apart from the music. He was sixty-five years old when he began to compose the music for it, and this was not completed till 1882, only a few months before it was first presented at Bayreuth. The instrumentation of Parsifal occupied Wagner for nearly three years, and it wearied him greatly. Wagner was most fastidious with the instrumentation. The assignment of a. theme to such and such an instrument was the effort of long meditation, because everything for him must have a purpose and a meaning. There has been much discussion about Parsifal. It is not an opera; it is not even a lyric drama. It is, like the great tragedies of the Greeks, a religious ceremony. When first produced at Bayreuth it was repeated sixteen times. People went from all quarters of the globe to hear and see it. No man ever went before his Maker with a nobler offering than Parsifal. The best-known modern poets who have been directly influenced by the literature of the Grail are Tennyson, Lowell, and Wagner. It was an event for artistic Europe. The proceeds of the first sixteen performances of Parsifal were sufficiently large to guarantee the regular and continued opening of the The Temple of the Holy Grail theatre, and since 1882 performances of Wagnerian opera have been held regularly. The legend of the Holy Grail is a beautiful one. On Mount Salvat, far away among the Pyrenees, stood a temple built by Titurel to receive the Holy Grail, — the cup from which the Saviour drank at the Last Supper, and in which His blood was caught as He hung upon the cross. Titurel, the founder of the Temple, feeling too old to continue his office as guardian of the Grail, appointed hisson Amfortas as his successor, giving him the sacred spear which pierced the Saviour’s side, and told him that no one could resist him as long as he wielded it and kept himself pure. The Holy Grail For many years Amfortas led a holy life, defending the Holy Grail from every foe and performing his sacred office in a most exemplary manner. He taught the Knights of the Grail to fight for the right and rescue the feeble and oppressed, and sent out messengers to all parts of the worldto redress wrong, whenever they were called upon to do so by words which suddenly appeared and glowed like fire around the edge of the Mystic Grail. All the Knights who served the Holy Grail were not only fed with celestial viands by its virtue alone, but were endowed with resistless The Holy Spear power so long as they remained unknown. They also had the power of recovering from every wound as if by magic, and once a year, on Good Friday, a white dove flew into the temple and rested upon the Holy Grail to give it renewed strength. Naturally many Knights wanted to be admitted to the Temple, but none except those whose lives were Lpure and had a high purpose could be admitted. So when Klingsor, the magician, tried to get in he was refused. The Grail chose its own Knights and did not choose him. Then he swore he would be revenged upon the Grail Knights; he would tempt them away from the Temple; he would overthrow them and find a way to steal the Grail itself. So, for this purpose, he built an enchanted palace near the Temple of the Grail and filled it with every kind of pleasure that he could devise to entice the Knights of the Grail to enter his castle, and if any Knight came, if any Knight staved in the enchanted halls to eat or drink or dance or play, that Knight was lost forever. So many were led astray that Amfortas decided to put an end to these fatal enchantments. Holding in his hand the spear which is almost as great and wonderful a thing as the Grail, he entered Klingsor’s castle. He was sure he could destroy Klingsor and put an end to his magic. But, alas, he was too confident of his strength. He had no sooner entered the enchanted garden, where roamed a host of lovely maidens bent upon his ruin, than he yielded to the flattery of Kun-drv, the fairest of them all. For a moment, in gazing upon her wondrous beauty, he forgot to guard the sacred spear which his father had begged him never to lay aside. Klingsor seized the spear and thrust it into the side of Amfortas. The King was borne back to the Temple with just such a wound as that other which this same spear had made so many years ago. And the magician had the spear. As Klingsor held it the blood flowed from its point and trickled down the shaft, staining his hand a deep, ugly red. Having stolen the spear, he now awaited an opportunity to steal the Grail. Amfortas returned to Mount Salvat, bearing with him the stain of his ■■■ sin mingled with eternal remorse, which was more agonizing than his wound. His wound was incurable, and his suffering was greatly increased whenever he uncovered the Holy Grail; for, being a Priest King, he was compelled to celebrate the holy mysteries, and he shrank with terror from performing them. It was in vain that Knights brought him Parsifal as a Boy precious balms from distant lands; nothing could alleviate his torture. Before the tabernacle one day, when imploring the Saviour’s mercy, he heard a celestial voice prophesying the healing of his wound and redemption of his sins by a being full of purity and pity. An innocent one should come to restore the Grail to its immaculate condition, and having secured the spear from Klingsor should restore it to the LTemple, where one touch of it would heal the wound which it had inflicted on Amfortas. When the curtain rises we see a wooded, mountainous country. The scene represents a clearing upon the border of a beautiful lake. Here and there masses of rock may be seen projecting from the tree trunks and tangle of wild shrubbery. To the left is a road losing itself in the depth Two Squires and Gurnemanz asleep of the forest and leading upward to the Temple of the Grail. It is morning, and the waters of the lake, visible in the background, are bathed in the intense light of awakening dav.