Chapter 3

"Some writers imagine the organ to have had seven or eight stops,--that is, so many different _kinds_ of tones,--which would place them nearly on a par with our own. Others think that they possessed seven or eight _keys_; that is, so many _tones_ only. It has been a point of dispute as to what function the water performed in working it. Vitruvius is rather hazy on this point, saying only that it is 'suspended' in the instrument. The water, when the organ was played, was in a state of agitation, as if boiling.

"There are medals still in existence which were awarded to victors in organ contests, on which this instrument is represented with two boys blowing or pumping; but the representation is too small to clear up any doubtful points."

But, without devoting further space to the music that was in vogue prior to the Christian era, I proceed to notice that our first reliable account of it, as a system, commences with the fourth century; at which time St. Ambrose, Bishop of Milan, arranged the sacred chants that bear his name, and which were to be sung in the cathedrals.

In the year 600 St. Gregory improved upon these chants, inventing the scale of eight notes. His system is the basis of our modern music.

From the close of the eleventh to the commencement of the fourteenth century, minstrels, _jongleurs_, or troubadours, were the principal devotees of music. They seem to have been its custodians, so to speak; and to their guild many of the knights belonged. Some of the kings and nobles of the time were also, in a sense, troubadours; such as, for instance, Thibault of Navarre, and William the Ninth of Poitou.

These roving musicians, who generally united the qualities of the poet, the musical composer, and performer, were treated with much favor by princes and all the nobility, and were everywhere warmly welcomed for a long period. It is, however, far from pleasant to have to say that this for a long time noble class of musicians, to whom we owe so much for the preservation unbroken for three hundred years of the chain of musical life, as well indeed, also, as that of general literature, spoiled perhaps by the excessive praises and indulgences accorded them, became at last quite dissolute, and fell from their high position. All royal favors were finally withdrawn from them, and orders for their restriction were issued from the throne.

Mr. B.W. Ball (in that faithful exponent of art, "The Boston Commonwealth") thus expressively sings the story of the ancient troubadour, styling him--

"THE POET OF OLD."

Once the poet wandered, With his lyre in hand,-- Wandered, singing, harping, On from land to land.

Like a bird he hovered; And, where'er he came, Kindled he each bosom With his song to flame.

Careless of the morrow, Journeyed he along; Opened every portal To the sound of song.

_Sua sponte_ heart's-ease In his bosom grew: Happiness as birthright, Like the gods, he knew.

All life's haps and changes On his chords he rung: Every thought, emotion, In him found a tongue.

Voiced he for the lover Passion of his breast; Feigned he, death to lighten, Islands of the Blest.

Up in ether throned he Gods, the world to sway,-- Gods to bend and listen While their votaries pray.

Soul and sense, enchanted, Drank his accents in: E'en to marble bosoms He his way could win.

From her casement Beauty Leaned his song to hear: E'en the haughty conqueror Bent a willing ear;

For without the poet And his epic lay Passed his vast existence, Whirlwind-like, away,--

Trace nor vestige leaving Where his legions trod, Which the year effaced not From the vernal sod.

Thus the poet wandered In a nobler time,-- Wandered, singing, harping, Free of every clime.

During the fourteenth century, music was most cultivated by the people of the Netherlands, who carried the art towards much perfection, producing several fine composers, and furnishing the leading musical instructors for the other parts of Europe. Among some of the ablest musicians of the Netherlands may be mentioned Dufay, Jan of Okenheim, and Josquin Despres, the latter being the most celebrated of contrapuntists. The Netherland musical supremacy lasted until 1563.

In the year 1400 the claims of music received the recognition of the crown in England, a charter being granted to a regularly formed musical society.

Commencing with the invention of movable type in 1502 (which invention so vastly facilitated the publication and spreading of the thoughts of the composer), and with the Reformation in the sixteenth century, the noble art of music began a new, unimpeded, and brilliant career among the civilized nations of the world. Dating from thence, the steps in the progress of this delightful science can be plainly traced. Unvexed and unfettered by the obscurities that attach to its antique history, we can contemplate with pleasure and profit the wonderful creations and achievements of its devotees.

This I need not attempt here, save in the briefest form; my purpose in preparing this chapter being only to give, as indicated in the title, a glance at the history of music.

To Palestrina, a learned Italian of the sixteenth century, and whose musical genius and industry were most remarkable, is due the greatest homage and gratitude of a music-loving world. Of him an eminent musical writer says, "It is difficult to over-estimate his talent and influence over the art of music in his day. He was regarded as the great reformer of church music. His knowledge of counterpoint, and the elevation and nobility of his style, made his masses and other compositions, of which he wrote a great number, examples for all time of what music should be."

In this century lived many notable composers, nearly all of whom distinguished themselves in the production of madrigal music. To the latter the English people were much devoted. Reading at sight was at that day, even more than now, a common accomplishment among the educated. The English queen Elizabeth was quite fond of music, and was somewhat accomplished in the art, performing upon the lute, virginals, and viol. She often charmed the _attaches_ of and visitors to her court by her skilful performances. During her reign, and by her encouragement, the cultivation of this noble art received a new and strong impulse in England, and several composers and performers of high merit lived.

In the year 1540 oratorio was first composed, followed by opera in 1594. During this period, instrumental music began to be used in the churches; and the violin was brought by the celebrated Amati family to a beauty of form, and sweetness of tone, not since excelled.

During the seventeenth century such great composers as Stradella, Scarlatti, Caldara, and Claudio lived; and the different forms of opera were developed in England, France, and Italy.

During the seventeenth and eighteenth centuries the art of music, in its new, rich, and deep developments, as shown in the masterly, wonderful creations of several of the great composers of those periods, and in the scientific performances of many fine instrumentalists, attained a height of surpassing grandeur. Many men of brilliant musical genius and of remarkable industry and perseverance were born; and, with new conceptions of the scope and capabilities of the divine art, they penetrated its innermost depths, and brought to the ears of the music-loving world new and enrapturing forms of harmony. Among these great masters, leaving out those already mentioned, were Handel, Henry Purcell, Bach, Gluck, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, and Spontini.

But, before proceeding farther, the writer considers it proper to remark, that to give a extended description of the progress of music during the three last centuries, mentioning in detail the many creations and achievements of those who have become great, nay, in some instances he might say almost immortal, in its sacred domain, would require a volume far beyond the pretensions and intended limits of this one.

Besides, the author confesses that he pauses with feelings of reverence while contemplating the mighty genius and divinely approximating achievements of Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Spohr, and Mendelssohn, fearing that his unskilful pen might fail in an attempt at description. Nor does he feel much less embarrassed when he contemplates the accomplishments of those wonderful interpreters of the works of the noble masters, who have, either through the enchanting modulations of their voices or with skilful touch upon instruments, evolved their magic strains. Let an abler pen than mine portray the sublime triumphs of Hasse, Mario, Wachtel, Santley, Whitney; of Albani, Malibran, Lind, Parepa Rosa, Nilsson; of Haupt, Paganini, Vieuxtemps, Ole Bull, Rubinstein, Liszt, and Von Bulow.[4]

[Footnote 4: For an able criticism of the composers and some of the performers mentioned, the reader is referred to Professor Ritter's very valuable History of Music, in two volumes.]

The eighteenth century was a most remarkable period for achievements in the composition of orchestral, oratorio, and operatic music,--the same being finely interpreted by vocal and instrumental artists of most wonderful skill.

In referring to some among that galaxy of bright stars, I use, in regard to Mozart, the clear and beautiful language of another:[5] "The great musical composer Mozart was a wonderful instance of precocity, as well as of surpassing genius. He died at the early age of thirty-five, after a career of unrivalled splendor, and the production of a succession of works which have left him almost, if not entirely, without an equal among either his predecessors or those who have come after him. Mozart's devotion to his art, and the indefatigable industry with which, notwithstanding his extraordinary powers, he gave himself to its cultivation, may read an instructive lesson, even to far inferior minds, in illustration of the true and only method for the attainment of excellence. From his childhood to the last moment of his life, Mozart was wholly a musician. Even in his earliest years, no pastime had any interest for him in which music was not introduced. His voluminous productions, to enumerate even the titles of which would occupy no little space, are the best attestation of the unceasing diligence of his maturer years. He used, indeed, to compose with surprising rapidity: but he had none of the carelessness of a rapid composer; for so delicate was his sense of the beautiful, that he was never satisfied with any one of his productions until it had received all the perfection he could give it by the most minute and elaborate correction. Ever striving after higher and higher degrees of excellence, and existing only for his art, he scarcely suffered even the visible approach of death to withdraw him for a moment from his beloved studies. During the last moments of his life, though weak in body, he was 'full of the god;' and his application, though indefatigable, could not keep pace with his invention. 'Il Flauta [Transcriber's Note: Flauto] Magico,' 'La Clemenza di Tito,' and a 'Requiem' which he had hardly time to finish, were among his last efforts. The composition of the 'Requiem,' in the decline of his bodily powers, and under great mental excitement, hastened his dissolution. He was seized with repeated fainting-fits, brought on by his extreme assiduity in writing, in one of which he expired. A few hours before his death took place, he is reported to have said, 'Now I begin to see what might be done in music.'"

[Footnote 5: In the Library of Entertaining Knowledge, vol. iii. p. 76.]

Mozart's compositions number over six hundred, and two hundred of them had not until quite recently been printed. He composed fifty-three works for the church, a hundred and eighteen for orchestra, twenty-six operas and cantatas, a hundred and fifty-four songs, forty-nine concertos, sixty-two piano-forte pieces, and seventeen pieces for the organ.

Of Beethoven, Professor F.L. Ritter, in one of his excellent lectures on music, says, "Beethoven's compositions appeal to the whole being of the listener. They captivate the whole soul, and, for the time being, subdue it to an intense, powerful, poetical influence, impressing it with melancholy, sorrow, and sadness, elevating it heavenwards in hopeful joy and inspired happiness."

The following description[6] of Beethoven's last hours on earth, as he was nearing the time

"When all of genius which can perish dies,"

although replete with sadness, is yet a tribute so touchingly beautiful and eloquent as to make it well worthy of insertion here.

[Footnote 6: Anonymously contributed to the Boston Folio for May, 1877.]

"THE LAST MOMENTS OF BEETHOVEN.

"He had but one happy moment in his life, and that moment killed him.

"He lived in poverty, driven into solitude by the contempt of the world, and by the natural bent of a disposition rendered harsh, almost savage, by the injustice of his contemporaries. But he wrote the sublimest music that ever man or angel dreamed. He spoke to mankind in his divine language, and they disdained to listen to him. He spoke to them as Nature speaks in the celestial harmony of the winds, the waves, the singing of the birds amid the woods. Beethoven was a prophet, and his utterance was from God.

"And yet was his talent so disregarded, that he was destined more than once to suffer the bitterest agony of the poet, the artist, the musician. He doubted his own genius.

"Haydn himself could find for him no better praise than in saying, 'He was a clever pianist.'

"Thus was it said of Gericault, 'He blends his colors well;' and thus of Goethe, 'He has a tolerable style, and he commits no faults in orthography.'

"Beethoven had but one friend, and that friend was Hummel. But poverty and injustice had irritated him, and he was sometimes unjust himself. He quarrelled with Hummel, and for a long time they ceased to meet. To crown his misfortunes, he became completely deaf.

"Then Beethoven retired to Baden, where he lived, isolated and sad, in a small house that scarcely sufficed for his necessities. There his only pleasure was in wandering amid the green alleys of a beautiful forest in the neighborhood of the town. Alone with the birds and the wild flowers, he would then suffer himself to give scope to his genius, to compose his marvellous symphonies, to approach the gates of heaven with melodious accents, and to speak aloud to angels that language which was too beautiful for human ears, and which human ears had failed to comprehend.

"But in the midst of his solitary dreaming a letter arrived, which brought him back, despite himself, to the affairs of the world, where new griefs awaited him.

"A nephew whom he had brought up, and to whom he was attached by the good offices which he had himself performed for the youth, wrote to implore his uncle's presence at Vienna. He had become implicated in some disastrous business, from which his elder relative alone could release him.

"Beethoven set off upon his journey, and, compelled by the necessity of economy, accomplished part of the distance on foot. One evening he stopped before the gate of a small, mean-looking house, and solicited shelter. He had already several leagues to traverse before reaching Vienna, and his strength would not enable him to continue any longer on the road.

"They received him with hospitality: he partook of their supper, and then was installed in the master's chair by the fireside.

"When the table was cleared, the father of the family arose, and opened an old clavecin. The three sons took each a violin, and the mother and daughter occupied themselves in some domestic work.

"The father gave the key-note, and all four began playing with that unity and precision, that innate genius, which is peculiar only to the people of Germany. It seemed that they were deeply interested in what they played; for their whole souls were in the instruments. The two women desisted from their occupation to listen, and their gentle countenances expressed the emotions of their hearts.

"To observe all this was the only share that Beethoven could take in what was passing; for he did not hear a single note. He could only judge of their performance from the movements of the executants, and the fire that animated their features.

"When they had finished they shook each other's hands warmly, as if to congratulate themselves on a community of happiness; and the young girl threw herself weeping into her mother's arms. Then they appeared to consult together: they resumed their instruments; they commenced again. This time their enthusiasm reached its height; their eyes were filled with tears, and the color mounted to their cheeks.

"'My friends,' said Beethoven, 'I am very unhappy that I can take no part in the delight which you experience; for I also love music: but, as you see, I am so deaf that I cannot hear any sound. Let me read this music which produces in you such sweet and lively emotions.'

"He took the paper in his hand: his eyes grew dim, his breath came short and fast; then he dropped the music, and burst into tears.

"These peasants had been playing the allegretto of Beethoven's Symphony in A.

"The whole family surrounded him with signs of curiosity and surprise.

"For some moments his convulsive sobs impeded his utterance; then he raised his head, and said, 'I am Beethoven.'

"And they uncovered their heads, and bent before him in respectful silence. Beethoven extended his hands to them, and they pressed them, kissed, wept over them; for they knew that they had amongst them a man who was greater than a king.

"Beethoven held out his arms, and embraced them all,--the father, the mother, the young girl, and her three brothers.

"All at once he rose up, and, sitting down to the clavecin, signed to the young men to take up their violins, and himself performed the piano part of his _chef-d'oeuvre_. The performers were alike inspired: never was music more divine or better executed. Half the night passed away thus, and the peasants listened. Those were the last accents of the swan.

"The father compelled him to accept his own bed; but, during the night, Beethoven was restless and fevered. He rose: he needed air: he went forth with naked feet into the country. All nature was exhaling a majestic harmony; the winds sighing through the branches of the trees, and moaning along the avenues and glades of the wood. He remained some hours wandering thus amid the cool dews of the early morning; but, when he returned to the house, he was seized with an icy chill. They sent to Vienna for a physician. Dropsy on the chest was found to have declared itself; and in two days, despite every care and skill, the doctor said Beethoven must die.

"And, in truth, life was every instant ebbing fast from him.

"As he lay upon his bed, pale and suffering, a man entered. It was Hummel,--Hummel, his old and only friend. He had heard of the illness of Beethoven, and he came to him with succor and money. But it was too late: Beethoven was speechless; and a grateful smile was all that he had to bestow upon his friend.

"Hummel bent towards him, and, by the air of an acoustic instrument, enabled Beethoven to hear a few words of his compassion and regret.

"Beethoven seemed re-animated; his eyes shone: he struggled for utterance, and gasped, 'Is it not true, Hummel, that I have some talent, after all?'

"These were his last words. His eyes grew fixed, his mouth fell open, and his spirit passed away.

"They buried him in the little cemetery of Dobling."

Among the most eminent composers of the present century may be mentioned Auber, Schubert, Rossini, Meyerbeer, Mendelssohn, Weber, Verdi, and Wagner.

In "The Contemporary Review" there lately appeared the following beautifully worded tribute to the noble qualities of Mendelssohn:--

"Mendelssohn reigns forever in a sweet wayside temple of his own, full of bright dreams and visions, incense, and ringing songs, and partly is he so sweet, because, unburthened with any sense of a message to utter, a mission to develop, he sings like a child in the valleys of asphodel, weaving bright chaplets of spring flowers for the whole world, looking upon the mystery of grief and pain with wide eyes of sympathy, and at last succumbing to it himself, but not understanding it, with a song of tender surprise upon his lips."

Since the times of the great writers of the eighteenth century, and of the first half of the present one, no new developments or advancements have been made in musical creations.[7] Indeed, it would seem that the time has not yet come for attempts to be made to improve upon the works of those great musical luminaries; for they have left too much that is deep, classical, charmingly beautiful, and soul-satisfying. The musical world has paused, not caring to go farther, to conscientiously study their noble creations, so fruitful in the delights, the soul-elevating influences, which they afford.

[Footnote 7: It would, perhaps, be better at present to except those of Wagner, upon the _surpassing_ merits of which the best critics are as yet divided.]

But, although no great genius has of late years appeared with newer and greater creations to claim our attention from those of the past, it is gratifying to know that great advancement is being made in a more general musical culture among the people; while the number of really great instrumentalists and vocalists is quite large, and is constantly increasing. In these latter respects the present far exceeds the past.[8] In fact, the study of the art of music has begun to be considered a necessity; and ability in its comprehension and performance is now far from being considered as merely an ornamental accomplishment. All this springs from the very nature of this divine art, the mission, so to speak, of which is, to constantly open new fountains of pleasure in the human heart; to cheer, to soothe, and to bless mankind throughout all time.

[Footnote 8: It should also be here remarked, that there has been, too, a remarkable improvement made in the construction of most all musical instruments; they having been brought to a nicety and beauty of form and tone probably not dreamed of by the makers of the past.]

But, after all, we know not how soon another great musical genius may startle us from our complacent studies of the masters of the past; for we are even now somewhat threatened in this respect by Richard Wagner, the eminent composer of Germany. He is not satisfied with the music of the past nor the present, and points to his own present and prospective creations as samples of what the "music of the future" will be. Just now, musical critics, while generally conceding to him much power as a composer, are divided in opinion as to whether his ideas are to be accepted in their entirety.

Still, who can now tell what the "music of the future" _may_ be?