Woman's Work in Music Part 2

Among the celebrated decisions is one given by the Countess of Champagne upon the question, "Can real love exist between married people?" Basing her decision on the fact that love implies a free granting of all favours, while marriage enforces constraint, the fair arbiter decided for the negative. Another decree, of wider application, was p.r.o.nounced by Queen Eleanor. A lover, after entreating his lady's favour in vain, sent her a number of costly presents, which she accepted with much delight. Yet even after this tribute to her charms, she remained obdurate, and would not grant him the slightest encouragement. He accordingly brought the case before the Court of Love, on the ground that the lady, by accepting his presents, had inspired him with false hopes. Eleanor gave the decision wholly in his favour, saying that the lady must refuse to receive any gifts sent as love-tokens, or must make compensation for them. The story does not tell whether the lady in question accepted the suitor or returned the gifts.

The absurdity to which these laws were carried is shown by another decision of Eleanor's. A gentleman became deeply smitten with a lady who had given her love to another, but who would have been pleased to return his devotion if ever deprived of her first lover. Soon after, the original pair were married. The gentleman, citing the decision that real love cannot exist between married people, claimed that the lady was now free to reward his fidelity. The lady declared that she had not lost the love of her first suitor by marrying him, but Queen Eleanor upheld the decision cited, and ordered the lady to grant her new lover the favours he desired.

The Troubadours at times treated subjects far different from the usual short lyrics or long romances. Many of these minstrels performed the unusual task of setting the laws in poetic form. It is not unusual to find lawyers becoming good poets, but in this case the legal minstrels drew from the codes of their native land enough inspiration for long effusions. Moral and religious precepts, too, were often put in the form of lengthy poems. Of even greater interest to the student of old customs are the so-called "Essenhamens," or collections of rules for behaviour for young ladies. In one of these, by Amanieus des Escas, called the G.o.d of love, the poet gives his counsel to a young lady in the train of some great countess. He meets her in one of her walks, whereupon she addresses him and asks for certain rules to guide her conduct. The poet, after apologetically insisting that she must know more about it, having ten times as much common sense as he has, overcomes his scruples, and proceeds to pour forth much undiluted wisdom.

From his verses we learn to approve of the well-known system of early rising and early retiring, with many minor points about was.h.i.+ng, dressing, caring for the teeth and nails, and other mysteries of the toilet. Then follow rules for behaviour in church, with directions to preserve a quiet demeanour, and avoid improper use of the eyes or the tongue. From the church the writer conducts his pupil to the dinner-table, reciting many important details in carving, pa.s.sing the dishes properly, and performing the correct ablutions. He closes this episode with the excellent advice that no harm can come from tempering wine with water. After this comes the conversation in the drawing-room, and many nave methods of raising interesting discussions are suggested.

Less highly gifted than the Troubadours were the Jongleurs, who composed their retinue. These musical jacks-of-all-trades began as accompanists, singing the songs of their master at the castles he visited. But soon they grew numerous and independent, and occupied a station varying from that of our public entertainers to that of the humblest street musician.

Nothing came amiss to them,--singing, playing all instruments, dancing, imitating the calls of animals and birds, and even the juggling that has derived its name from them. In the wandering life that they led, they were often forced to take their wives and children along, and thus women grew accustomed to take some part in the performances.

The glee-maidens were essentially an English inst.i.tution, and no doubt they were more sure of courtesy and protection in that country than on the Continent. They were by far the most romantic figures of the minstrel world. Often they would wander about the country alone and unguarded, braving or avoiding the dangers of the road. Sometimes their only escort was a pet dog or a goat. They arrayed themselves in small garments of bright colours, often adorned with silver, while on their feet were leather buskins. They were at home in the courtyards of castles and monasteries no less than in the midst of villages and towns, and, mounting on some slight knoll, they would entertain gentles and commoners with voice and violin. They are often introduced into the romances of early England, and many famous glee-maidens are found on the pages of history. One of the most celebrated was Adeline, who lived in the time of William the Conqueror, and was successful enough to be rewarded by him with an estate.

In the reign of Henry III. we find one really great figure among the glee-maidens,--Marie de France. She was the _Jongleuse_ of William Longsword, son of Henry II. and Fair Rosamond, and he certainly deserves the grat.i.tude of the literary world for discovering and fostering her wonderful talent. Born probably in Brittany, her life and works identified her with the English. She was familiar with the Breton tongue, and also with Latin. Her first production was a set of lays in French verse, that met with instant popularity throughout England. The courts of the n.o.bles reechoed with her praises, and ladies as well as knights were never weary of listening to her songs. Twelve of them are now in the British Museum, among them a beautiful one dealing with King Arthur and the Round Table. These works are of rare charm, no less for their pleasing style and depth of feeling than for their simplicity of expression and clearness of narrative. Her second effort was a poetical rendering of many of aesop's fables, done either as a favour or a tribute of love for her protector. This was followed by a translation of the Purgatory of St. Patrick in Ireland, taken from the Latin.

Few of the glee-maidens were so richly gifted or so highly placed as Marie. Most of them travelled about, either alone or in the company of glee-men, and were content with more ordinary compositions. At times they were accompanied by dancing bears, who went through their figures with the maidens, while the glee-men played, and tripped a fantastic toe, if not exactly a light one.

The existence of the Jongleurs gradually undermined that of the Troubadours, as the former grew more and more proficient. In the thirteenth century we find Guirant Riquier, often called the last of the Troubadours, requesting King Alfonso X. of Castile to make a definite cla.s.sification of Jongleurs, and t.i.tle the best, thus preventing the indiscriminate mixing of high and low musicians in the public mind. The king made some effort to do so, but met with little success, for the whole inst.i.tution was gradually decaying. A more tragic fate awaited the Troubadours of Provence, the home of the art. Espousing the cause of the Albigenses, they used their wit with such telling effect that they brought down upon themselves the deadly hatred of the Papists; and in the short but b.l.o.o.d.y war that followed, they were almost wholly exterminated in the cruel slaughter caused by the forces of religious intolerance. Don Pedro of Aragon, who came to aid his brother Troubadours, met with defeat and death, and after his loss the victors started on a career of cruelty, torture, and indiscriminate murder. The castles of the minstrel knights, once the home of beauty and song, were razed to the ground, and the Troubadours were blotted from the page of history.

CHAPTER III.

WIVES OF THE COMPOSERS

Among the women who have influenced music without actually creating it, none have had greater chances to use their power than the wives of the famous composers. Often they have been endowed with no inconsiderable musical genius themselves, but have sacrificed their claim to renown upon the altar of domestic duty. Sometimes, in rare instances, they have had the ability to perform the double task of caring for the household and continuing their own musical labours. Their story is an interesting one, and from the time of the great John Sebastian Bach, who stands as a model of domestic purity, down even to the present day, they have played a large part in shaping the musical destinies of the world.

From the twelfth to the seventeenth century is a long gap, and music underwent many changes during this period. After the pa.s.sing of the minstrel knights, popular music fades out of sight. That it had an existence, however, is amply proven. The Jongleurs must have continued long after their masters were stamped out, for their direct successors are with us to-day, and our hand-organ is the descendant of their fearful and wonderful organistrum. The entire school of English national music saw its palmiest days during this epoch. Even on the Continent, the great schools of contrapuntists delighted to show their skill by employing as their cantus firmus, or chief part, some well-known popular song, such as "L'Homme Arme," for example.

In Germany, the mantle of the Minnesingers fell upon the guilds of musical amateurs in the growing commercial cities. Less poetic than their predecessors, these Mastersingers, as they named themselves, often took refuge in arbitrary rules and set metrical forms that made a poor subst.i.tute for real inspiration. That there was some genuine poetic feeling and humour among them is shown by the work of Hans Sachs, the greatest of their number. He wrote many poems and plays, of which the "Fa.s.snachtspiele" were the most popular and the most mirth-provoking.

Contrary to the version of his life given in Wagner's opera, he succeeded in making a second marriage late in life; and contrary to the general experience in such cases, the marriage was a happy one, for his young wife was exceedingly proud of her famous husband. But in the actual creative work of the Mastersingers woman played no part.

Sacred music and the science of composition flourished as never before.

There is an appropriate saying that old music was horizontal, while now it is vertical; and the contrast between the interweaving of parts, proceeding smoothly together, and our single melodies supported by ma.s.sive chords, is aptly ill.u.s.trated by the remark. This very interweaving led to a style of music that was extremely complex, affording chances for intellectual and mathematical skill rather than emotional fervour. It has been customary to say that this style of composition was unsuited to women, and to pa.s.s over the epoch with the casual remark that no women composers appear within its limits. But modern research has shown the futility of this statement.

The records of the Netherland schools are meagre, so it is to Italy that we must turn for the earliest examples of skilled women composers. The first great name is that of Maddalena Casulana, who was born at Brescia about 1540. Her published compositions took the shape of two volumes of madrigals, issued in 1568 and 1583. Next in point of time comes Vittoria Aleotti, a native of Argenta. Her _magnum opus_ was published at Venice, in 1593, under the flowery t.i.tle, "Ghirlanda dei Madrigali a 4 Voci."

Francesca Baglioncella, born at Perugia in the same century, is another exponent of the art, while Orsina Vizzani, who first saw the light of day at Bologna in 1593, not only composed many pieces in this form, but by playing her own and others'[3] works did much to make it popular with all music-lovers in Italy.

The year 1600 saw the beginning of opera, due to the work of Peri and his Florentine compeers in trying to--

"Revive the just designs of Greece."

Among the early operatic composers is found the charming and accomplished Francesca Caccini, daughter of that Giulio Caccini who was Peri's friend and most formidable rival. Born at Florence in 1581, and educated in the most thorough manner, she was for many years the idol of her native city, not only because of her great talent in singing and composition, but also on account of the exquisite beauty of her Latin and Tuscan poetry. Among other musical works by her are two examples of the new form,--"La Liberazione di Ruggiero" and "Rinaldo Innamorato,"--both of which are preserved to us. A later composer in the same field was Barbara Strozzi, whose opera, "Diporti d'Euterpe," was successfully received at Venice in 1659. In Ricordi's modern collection of old Italian songs are some charming examples of her skill in other directions.

In the domain of Italian sacred music, too, the women were not inactive.

Catterina a.s.sandra, at the beginning of the seventeenth century, wrote a number of religious works, of which "Veni Sancte Spiritus," for two voices, achieved more than pa.s.sing fame. Margarita Cozzolani and Lucrezia Orsina Vezzana, both Catholic sisters, won renown by their motets and other sacred works. Cornelia Calegari, born at Bergamo in 1644, won the plaudits of her nation by her wonderful singing and organ-playing, as well as by her many compositions. Her first book of motets was published in her fifteenth year, and met with universal success. The highest forms possessed no difficulties for her, and among her works are several ma.s.ses for six voices, with instrumental accompaniment. These names are enough to show that woman was able to hold her own, even in a period when music had apparently banished those emotional qualities with which she is said to be most in sympathy.

The women of other countries were not idle in this period of musical activity. Germany, in spite of her meagre records, can show at least one great name. Madelka Bariona, who lived during the sixteenth century, upheld the musical reputation of her country by publis.h.i.+ng seven five-voiced psalms at Altdorf, in 1586. Bernarda Ferreira de Lacerda was of Portuguese nationality. She won great renown by her writings and her knowledge of languages. Philip II. of Spain wished to entrust her with the education of his children, but she declined, alleging as her reason that she wished to devote all her time to study. Many of her ma.n.u.script compositions and musical writings are preserved in the Royal Library at Madrid.

France can boast of a real genius in Clementine de Bourges, who was born at Lyons in the sixteenth century. Such authorities as Mendel and Grove accord her a rank with the very greatest of her time. She held a high position among the intellectual leaders of that day, as much by her great learning as by her musical skill. She shows complete mastery of many instruments, and her gifts in composition are amply proven by her four-part chorus, which can be found in J. Paix's organ collection. Her career was brought to an untimely end by grief. She was engaged to Jean de Peyrat, a royal officer, who met his death in a skirmish with the Huguenots in 1560. Her sorrow at this disaster proved incurable, and she died in the next year.

Although the unfortunate Mary, Queen of Scots, belongs to a more northern land, the credit of her talents may be fairly accorded to France, where she received her education. She made no musical attempts in the more ambitious forms, but wrote many songs, among which "Las! en mon doux Printemps" and "Monsieur le Provost des Marchands" met with considerable success in their day.

With the advent of Bach, music was no longer the dry mathematical study that it had been during the later middle ages, for in his hands it became imbued with true feeling. Descended from a famous family of musicians, he was born at the little German town of Eisenach, in 1685.

Receiving his early education at Ohrdruf, he showed himself endowed with unusual genius. Forced to make his way when fifteen years old, he supported himself in the Convent School of St. Michael's, at Luneburg, by means of his musical talents. After a short term as court musician at Weimar, he became organist of the New Church at Arnstadt, and here he met the woman who was to be his first wife. Almost the earliest mention of her is made in a report of the consistory, criticizing the young organist for certain breaches of discipline. From this report, it appears that he had asked for four weeks' leave for study, and had stayed away four months; he had played interludes that the reverend board considered too long and too intricate; and, on being reproved, he had made them too short; and once, during the sermon, he had gone forth and spent these stolen moments in a wine-cellar. The final charge asks by what authority he has latterly allowed a strange maiden to appear, and to make music in the choir. This "strange maiden," who made music with Bach in the solitude of the empty church, was none other than his cousin, Maria Barbara. A year later (1707) he married her, and took her to Muhlhausen, where he had found a less troublesome post as organist in the Church of St. Blasius.

The domestic life of Bach and his wife was a pattern for married couples of all time. All his friends unite in calling him an especially excellent "Haus-Vater," a term of commendation applied to those men who remember their duty to their own families, and do not sacrifice domestic happiness to fame and fortune. Personally he was pleasant to every one, mere acquaintances as well as intimate friends, and his house was always the centre of a lively gathering. With his wife, he took sedulous care of the education of his children, of whom there were no less than six at her early death in 1720.

Bach was not the man to remain long a widower, and in the next year the bereaved composer's fancy lightly turned to thoughts of a second marriage. His choice fell upon Anna Magdalena Wulken, a Cothen court singer of twenty-one years, and the happy consummation occurred on December 3d. She was a good musician, and did much to enliven the domestic circle by her beautiful soprano voice. Not content with merely taking part in her husband's works, she learned from him to play the clavier and read figured ba.s.s, and rendered him valuable aid by copying music for him.

Soon after the marriage, Bach and his wife started a ma.n.u.script music book, ent.i.tled "Clavier Buchlein von Anna Magdalena Bach, Anno 1720." On the first page was written a playful denunciation of the melancholy and hostility to art that were so often inculcated by the Calvinism of that time. This book and another of the kind, which followed it five years later, are both preserved in the Royal Berlin Library. In them are a series of clavier pieces, by Bach, Gerhard, and others; a number of hymns and sacred songs; one of several humourous song's, describing the reflections of a smoker; and still others, apparently addressed to his wife, and giving fresh proofs of his devotion to her. Her portrait was painted by Cristofori, but disappeared after being in the possession of one of the sons.

As a result of his second marriage, Bach was blessed with thirteen more children, six sons and seven daughters. All his children loved him, and his kindness and sincerity enabled him to retain their respect as well as their affection. In all his activity he was never too busy to save some time for the family circle, where, in later life, he would take the viola part in the concerted music that cheered his domestic hearth. It is sad to think of the poor wife's fate in contrast with so much family happiness. After Bach's death, in 1750, she struggled bravely to support her children, but became gradually poorer, and was forced to end her days in an almshouse, and be buried in a pauper's grave.

Less happy than Bach in his married life was Franz Josef Haydn. After a boyhood of poverty and struggles, he obtained a position as Kapellmeister to a Bohemian n.o.bleman, Count Morzin. This post was none too lucrative, however, for it brought the composer only about one hundred dollars a year, while his teaching could not have provided him with much extra wealth, and his compositions brought him nothing. Yet his financial troubles did not deter him from seeking those of matrimony, in spite of the fact that Count Morzin never kept married men in his service. According to the poet Campbell, marriage looks like madness in nine cases out of ten; and Haydn's venture was certainly no exception.

The one upon whom the composer's affections lighted was the younger daughter of a barber named Keller. He had met her while a choir-boy in the Church of St. Stephen, at Vienna, and she had afterward become one of his pupils. For some unexplained reason,--let us hope it was not because of the young composer's love,--she took to the veil, and renounced the wickedness and the marriages of the world. The barber, possibly hoping to lighten the suitor's disappointment, and very probably wis.h.i.+ng to have both daughters off his hands, promptly suggested to the young lover that he take the elder sister instead.

Apparently realizing that marriage at best is but a lottery, Haydn accepted the proposition.

The wedding took place at St. Stephen's, on November 26, 1760. Whether Count Morzin would have made an exception in Haydn's case, and retained him in spite of this event, there is no means of telling, for that n.o.bleman met with financial reverses, and was forced to give up his musical establishment. Fortunately for the young genius, some of his works had been heard and admired by the Prince Paul Esterhazy, who showed his musical discernment by taking Haydn into his service and becoming a lifelong patron of the composer.

There was little real affection between Haydn and his wife at the start of their life journey together. He declared, however, that he really began to have some feeling for her, and would have come to entertain still warmer sentiments toward her if she had behaved at all reasonably.

But unfortunately, she did not seem to be capable of behaving reasonably. The wives of great men are usually proud of the attainments of their husbands, and take no pains to conceal this fact. But the barber's daughter of Vienna was totally lacking in any real appreciation of her gifted consort. As Haydn himself observed once, it would have made no difference if he had been a shoemaker instead of an artist. She used his ma.n.u.script scores as curl-papers and underlays for the family pastry; she made continual use of the conjugal privilege of going through his pockets and abstracting the cash; and once, when he was in London, her calm selfishness rose to the point of asking him to buy a certain house, which she admired, so that she might have a home provided for her widowhood.

Through all his troubles, Haydn preserved a dignified silence about his domestic unhappiness, and in his letters it is mentioned only twice. For a long time he bore the trials patiently, but at length was forced to give up the household and live apart from his domestic tormentor. The woman who had hoped for a permanent home in her widowhood ended her lonely existence in 1800, nine years before the close of her husband's career.

With these facts in view, it is not surprising to find that Haydn at times sought elsewhere the consolation he was denied at home. He was fond of feminine companions, especially when they were well endowed with personal attractions. He must have possessed ingratiating manners, for he certainly could not boast of great personal attractions, and he himself admitted that his fair admirers were, "At any rate, not tempted by his beauty." His natural tenderness showed itself in a pa.s.sionate fondness for children,--a blessing denied to his own home.

One of his most violent friends.h.i.+ps had for its object a young Italian singer of nineteen, Luigia Polzelli. Apparently she was not happy with her husband, and a bond of mutual sympathy drew the composer to her.

After the death of her husband, she persuaded Haydn to sign a promise to marry her if his wife should die, but the composer afterward repudiated the agreement, very likely not wis.h.i.+ng to repeat his first matrimonial blunder.

Another romance is found in the love-letters sent to the composer by a charming London widow named Schroeter. Without overstepping the bounds of propriety, he was able to draw some profit from this episode, for he gave lessons to his fair admirer, and allowed her to do ma.n.u.script copying for him. Apparently the friends.h.i.+p was more of her seeking than of his own, as her letters to him bear witness. These are copied neatly in one of his note-books, along with various amusing "Anectods," a description of a London fog, "thick enough to be spread on bread," and an excellent receipt for making the Prince of Wales's punch.

Mozart was another musical genius who was forced to accept as second choice the sister of his first love, though in his case the results were not so disastrous as with Haydn. It was in Mannheim, on the way to Paris, that Mozart made the acquaintance of the copyist Weber, and succ.u.mbed to the charms of his daughter, Aloysia. But Leopold Mozart, wisely playing the role of stern father, soon sped the susceptible youth on his way to the French capital. It is a French proverb that tells us,--

"Nous revenons toujours a nos premiers amours,"--

and a year later he returned. But Aloysia, now famous by her singing, soon made it plain that his affection was no longer returned. Mozart seems to have borne the blow well, and soon after her marriage to the actor Lange, who proved a jealous husband, he wrote home his decision to wed her younger sister, Constance. After much opposition from members of both families, he carried out his intention.

As in Haydn's case, the young couple were forced to live on "bread and cheese and kisses," with none too much of the first two articles.

Mozart, more than any other composer, met with undeserved hards.h.i.+ps. On every side his music was praised and his genius admired, but n.o.bles and princes, and even the emperor, would give him no material aid. He made a devoted husband, and much of the money that disappeared so readily from his hands was probably used for the benefit of his wife, whose health was not of the best. Their life (in Vienna at first) was a continual effort to solve the old vexed problem of making both ends meet, and Constance must be given high praise for the wonderful skill with which she managed the small and uncertain income of her husband. Several times the young couple were brought face to face with the direst need, but their patience and cheerfulness carried them through the crisis. On one occasion, when there was no fuel on hand and no money to buy any, a visitor found the pair busily engaged in waltzing about their bare room in order to keep warm. At another time they were rescued from their extremity only by the kindness of their friend, the Baroness Waldstatten, who intervened just in time to save them from beggary.

After three years, Leopold Mozart relented enough to visit his daughter-in-law, whom he found far more deserving than he had expected; but he himself was not well off, and could be of little financial help.

That Constance was of great aid to her husband, in spite of an easy-going nature, cannot be doubted. She possessed the faculty of telling interesting stories and novelettes, and with this apparently inexhaustible fund of invention she would amuse him between his periods of work. The description that we have of the composition of the great "Don Giovanni" overture gives a pleasing ill.u.s.tration of this phase of the family life. Owing to rehearsals and other work, the day before the performance arrived with no overture yet written. In the evening, according to his custom, Mozart began the task by sketching out the themes and a general plan of construction for the work. Near him sat his wife, ready to entertain him with her pleasing tales when he looked up from his work. For one or two hours he did indulge in actual repose; but all through the rest of the night he continued the work, relieving his mental concentration by listening to the storiettes or occasionally sipping a gla.s.s of his favourite punch. The ma.n.u.script was completed and ready for the copyist the next morning at seven o'clock, and along with the other numbers scored a complete success in the evening.

Some blame has attached to Constance for the lack of exact knowledge about Mozart's grave. At the hour of his burial, in the public cemetery, a violent storm drove away all the mourners. There was a cholera scare in Vienna at the time, which kept many people away from the graveyard.

Her own neglect of the matter may have been caused by illness, but, whatever the reason, the fact remains that when public interest was aroused the exact location of Mozart's grave could no longer be defined.