Woman's Work in Music Part 4

But Wieck's refusal to sanction the marriage could not be altered. In fact, his opposition became even stronger and more determined. Finding any direct appeal of no avail, Schumann was forced to have recourse to law, and Wieck was compelled to give reason for his refusal before a legal tribunal. Although Schumann was not rich, yet he possessed some income from his paper, and his other work brought him enough reward to enable him to make a home for Clara. Besides these receipts, he had a small property that gave him an annual return of 500 thalers, and as he himself wrote: "We are young, and have hands, strength, and reputation.... Tell me now if there can be real cause for fear."

Nevertheless the case dragged on, and a nature as sensitive as his must have been deeply mortified by the legal wrangling and the publicity of the affair. At last a favourable decision was reached, and after a year of doubt and suspense the marriage took place on September 12, 1840.

Henceforth their life was one perfect union. There could be no happier marriage in the world than this one, where a man of creative genius was mated with a woman gifted with the ability and the wish to interpret his works earnestly and faithfully. They regarded art from different points, but with the same ideas and ideals. Both were wholly devoted to all that was true and n.o.ble, and both felt the same antipathy to whatever was trivial or superficial. Together they moved along the pathway of life; together they won their laurels. "To admire one or the other was to admire both," says Liszt, "for, though they sang in different tongues, their life music made but one n.o.ble harmony. The annals of art will never divide the memory of these two, and their names can never be spoken separately."

And now Schumann's happiness began to take tangible form and show itself to the world. Hitherto his compositions had been chiefly for the pianoforte, but now his genius burst forth in song. Cycle followed cycle during the next few years, and the fortunate lover sang of his happiness in strains of such romantic beauty that their charm can never fade while love and music have power to sway the pa.s.sions of mankind.

The warm feeling and emotion in the poems of Ruckert, of Chamisso, of Heine, were echoed and intensified by the choicest melodies of the art that is said to begin its expression where language ends. That Clara had some direct share in these songs, besides publis.h.i.+ng many of her own, there can be no manner of doubt. She certainly formed their inspiration, and must have a.s.sisted in the task of preparing them.

These works placed Schumann in the foremost rank of song composers, and he is now held equal to Schubert and Franz in this form, if not actually the greatest song-writer in the world. Franz is more delicate, Schubert more simply melodious, but Schumann's songs are endowed with a warm vigour of strong emotion that has never been equalled. His contemporaries felt their force, but hardly realized their full power, for one of the writers on Schumann's own paper accorded them only a secondary rank. "In your essay on song-writing," the composer replies, "it has somewhat distressed me that you should have placed me in the second rank. I do not ask to stand in the first, but I think I have some pretensions to a place _of my own_." Posterity has been proud to place him with the foremost.

In other matters besides those relating to art, the marriage was perfectly happy. Both husband and wife possessed simple domestic tastes, and both were endowed with the innate modesty that prevented their being harmed by the continual praise of the world. They lived for each other, and for their children. He modelled his compositions on lines to suit her artistic nature, and she threw herself ardently into the task of giving these works to the world. Her days were spent in winning fame for him, or in s.h.i.+elding his sensitive and irritable nature from too rude contact with the world. Now that his life was one of perfect tranquillity, he withdrew more than ever from intercourse with strangers, and became wholly absorbed in his domestic felicity and his creative work. The complete happiness of his married life was bound to produce its effect on his nature, and not only in the songs, but in the larger works also, his most beautiful music is due to the inspiring influences of this part of his life.

After a time his wife was able to entice him from the quiet home (first in Leipsic, then Dresden, and finally Dusseldorf) that sheltered this scene of domestic harmony. Sometimes her tours were taken alone, but at last she was able to draw him with her into the world. In Germany, in the Netherlands, in Austria, even in Russia, constant triumphs awaited them. There were a few exceptions, chief among them being Vienna, the city where Mozart struggled so long in vain, and where Gluck was unable to produce more than a pa.s.sing impression by his great operatic reforms.

But nearly all the places they visited offered admiration and incense to the faithful pair of artists. Through Schumann's genius, that of his wife was influenced, and Clara Schumann became far greater than Clara Wieck had ever been. She became a true priestess of art. She did not rest until she gave the world a clear understanding of the depth of thought in his great works. She made her fame serve his, and considered the recognition of his qualities her own reward. Yet it still happened at times that this recognition came slowly, and in Vienna, as late as 1846, he was spoken of merely as the husband of Clara Wieck, and after the court concert given by her, some one turned to him with the question: "Are you musical, too?"

Gradually the perfect happiness was marred by the growing sickness of Schumann. Always extremely nervous and excitable, he had on one or two earlier occasions been forced to forego work. In 1851 the disease became evident again. By degrees his conduct grew more and more eccentric, and he became a victim of actual delusions. He often insisted that he heard one particular note, or certain harmonies sounding, or voices whispering messages of hope or of sorrow. One night the spirits of Schubert and Mendelssohn seemed to reveal a theme to him, upon which he tried to complete a set of variations. At times he would work calmly and sensibly, but one day, in a fit of mental anguish, he left his house, alone, and threw himself into the Rhine. Rescued by some boatmen, he went home to experience a few more lucid periods, but insanity gradually mastered him. His last two years were spent in a private asylum near Bonn, where he died July 29, 1846. His wife, who had been on a tour in London, returned just in time to witness his end. He was buried in Bonn, near the tombs of Beethoven and Schubert.

As widow, Clara Schumann continued faithfully the work of her married life. Her many tours were still a means of performing her husband's music, and she was able to know that her life-work was successful in Germany at least. Soon after his death, the name of Schumann became immortal, and the very peculiarities of his work were recognized as essentially national in character. His widow found a home with her mother in Berlin, where she stayed for four years, and whither she returned after twelve years in Baden-Baden. In 1878 she became chief teacher of piano in the school founded by Doctor Hoch at Frankfort, and there for ten years she lived and worked with the most complete success.

In 1892 she retired from her labours, and on May 19, 1896, her long life of usefulness came to a quiet end. Five days later she was laid at rest with her husband in the peaceful little cemetery at Bonn.

In private life, as well as in public performance, her personality remained one of earnest simplicity and n.o.bility of thought. She was admired and loved by all who knew her, and when failing health compelled her to give up her teaching, their affection showed itself in the substantial form of a large subscription.

Her compositions, according to the foremost critics, are not numerous, but show the sincerity of purpose that marks all her work. Even her earliest pieces, chiefly short dance forms for piano, are redeemed from triviality by interesting rhythms and fresh, almost abrupt, modulations.

They are mostly delicate rather than forceful, with frequent ornaments and staccato pa.s.sages that require a light and skilful touch. Among her later and more serious works, the G minor trio is musicianly and interesting; the three cadences to Beethoven concertos are charming examples of their kind, and the preludes and fugues (Op. 16) form an excellent legato study, and are eminently successful in construction as well. A piano concerto, Op. 7, dedicated to Spohr, is short and poorly balanced, the first movement being a single solo leading into the andante. The later works, especially the songs, show plainly the influence of her husband's great genius. The list of her published compositions is as follows:

Op. 1, Quartre Polonaises, piano.

Op. 2, Caprices en Forme de Valses, piano.

Op. 3, Romance Variee, piano.

Op. 4, Valses Romantiques, piano.

Op. 5, Four Pieces Caracteristiques, piano.

Op. 6, Soirees Musicales, 6 pieces, piano.

Op. 7, Piano Concerto in A minor.

Op. 8, Variations de Concert (Pirate de Bellini), piano.

Op. 9, Souvenir de Vienne, Impromptu, piano.

Op. 10, Scherzo for piano.

Op. 11, Three Romances, piano.

Op. 12, Three Songs from Ruckert's "Liebesfruhling."

Op. 13, Six Songs.

Op. 14, Second Scherzo, piano.

Op. 15, Four Pieces Fugitives, piano.

Op. 16, Three Preludes and Fugues, piano.

Op. 17, Trio, G minor, for piano, violin, and 'cello.

Op. 18 and 19 did not appear.

Op. 20, Piano variations on a theme of Robert Schumann.

Op. 21, Three Romances, piano.

Op. 22, Three Romances, piano and violin.

Op. 23, Six Songs from Rollet's "Jucunde."

Without opus number, Cadenzas to Beethoven's concertos, Op. 37 and 58; Song, "Liebeszauber," Geibel; Andante and Allegro for piano; Song, "Am Strand;" and a march in E flat, composed in 1879 for a golden wedding.

Clara Schumann edited Breitkopf and Hartel's edition of her husband's works, and issued a volume of his early letters.

CHAPTER V.

OTHER MUSICAL ROMANCES

Although some of the great composers remained unmarried, many of them were influenced by women, and the effect is frequently visible in their compositions. Dedications of musical works to women are apparently a matter of little moment, but often they are surface indications of some deep feeling underneath, which is expressed in the music. Especially will this be found true in Beethoven's case, but it applies also to Schubert and other composers.

If George Frederick Handel never married, it was certainly not from lack of an opportunity to do so. In 1703, while still in his teens, he journeyed with his friend Mattheson, who was in search of a post as organist, from Hamburg to Lubeck. The place was occupied by the renowned Buxtehude, who was so advanced in age that he was forced to look for a successor. The two young aspirants tried the organs and clavicembalos, but did not care to accept the post. It seems that one of the conditions bound the successful applicant to marry the organist's daughter, and neither of them showed the slightest inclination to take this decisive step.

It is said of Handel that during his Italian trip he became engaged to the singer, Vittoria Tesi. But his biographer, Chrysander, disbelieves the story, and the historian Burney speaks of an Italian count as her lover. According to the latter account, she behaved very generously, and tried to dissuade her n.o.ble admirer from a marriage that would disgrace him and his family. Finding him insistent, she left her house one morning, and for fifty ducats persuaded a baker's apprentice to marry her, the pair to live separately, while the step would be used in dismissing the poor count. If she had really been engaged to Handel, or had loved him, she might have had a husband at less expense; and probably a musician is a more valuable article than a baker's apprentice.

During his long career in England, Handel was twice nearly married. In one case the mother of the fair charmer objected to her daughter's union with a "mere fiddler." Handel drew back with becoming pride, and was probably not much hurt. Certainly he never lost the magnificent appet.i.te for which he was famous. Soon afterward the mother died, and the father, apparently put in control of the family by this event, stated to the composer that there was now no objection to the match. But Handel declined the offer, saying that it was too late. The situation was different from that at Lubeck, and his musical career now stood in the way of matrimonial ventures. At a later time he wished to marry a lady of wealth and position, but, as she made it a condition that he should give up his profession, he declined to pursue the match. None of these women were of especial influence upon him or his music, and he composed his long series of operas and oratorios in complete bachelor freedom.

Gluck owed much of his musical success to the aid of a woman. While in Vienna, gaining fame by his earlier works in Italian style, he won the interest and esteem of the ladies of the imperial court, among them the Empress Maria Theresa. He was chosen to direct music at court festivals, and after one of his later Parisian successes, the empress honoured him with the post of court composer. Gluck's wife had not the position or influence to help him in the musical side of his career, as Clara Wieck did Robert Schumann, but in the cultivated atmosphere of the court he found one woman who afterward aided him with all the force of her rank and influence,--his pupil, Marie Antoinette, the future Queen of France.

Even at Vienna Gluck was planning the reforms in opera that were to banish the prevailing vocal inanities from the stage, and make his name immortal. He did not minimize the beauty of contemporary operatic music, but claimed that it consisted merely of a set of conventional arias and scenas, and that the music did not in any way emphasize or ill.u.s.trate the meaning of the words. As in the well-known s.e.xtet from "Lucia,"

which divides the sheep from the goats in our own day, the character of the music was often directly at variance with the spirit of the words.

His memorable production of "Orfeo," though not remodelling the world at a single stroke, won a full triumph, and showed all music lovers the force of the new theories.

[Ill.u.s.tration: MARIE ANTOINETTE]

It was the French attache, Du Rollet, actuated by a sincere admiration of the Vienna master's works, who first proposed to have Gluck come to Paris. One of the directors of the Royal Academy of Music, to whom Du Rollet addressed himself, made the matter public in France, but did not reply. After some time Gluck himself renewed the agitation for a hearing, with no better results. That his work was understood is shown by a note from the Academy to Du Rollet, wherein one of the directors promises to accept Gluck's opera if he will contract to furnish six more; for one such work would overthrow all the French operas produced up to that time. Finding the directors unable to come to a decision, Gluck appealed directly to the Dauphine Marie Antoinette, who gave the necessary orders, removed all difficulties, and invited Gluck to the city where she was to be his faithful friend and patroness through all struggles and trials.

Of the success of Gluck in Paris, this is hardly the place to speak.

Through all the intrigues of his musical enemies, the queen remained a firm adherent of the new school. The contest was long and fierce.

Singers left or pleaded some excuse at the last moment; rival composers produced opera after opera in hope of eclipsing him; critics, for and against, entered into a protracted war of words and wit; and finally Gluck's opponents, under the lead of Madame Du Barry, brought in the Italian Piccini, with the avowed intention of obliterating Gluck's fame.

Great as his genius was, he might have had a harder fight for justice but for his firm friend at court. He always had access to the queen, and was always accorded more respect at court than his rivals, Piccini or Sacchini. Realizing the worth of his own works, he often laid himself open to the charge of conceit, but the queen was ever ready to defend him warmly.

Marie Antoinette was herself a composer, and no doubt Gluck's early tuition was responsible for her musical attainments. Hers was not the rank nor the period in which a woman could attempt to work in the larger forms, but her songs were eminently successful. One of those, since made familiar by a more modern setting, is reproduced for the benefit of the reader. Its grace and charm will speak for themselves.

With Haydn and Mozart ranking among the married men, the next tonal master who claims attention is the great Beethoven. He was a mental giant endowed with intense emotional vigour,--hearing inwardly the beautiful strains that he wrote down, dreaming of the millennium and human brotherhood, and expressing in the most heartfelt terms his yearning for the one and only love who would share his lot with him. Yet when we come to search for this one and only love, we find that her name is legion. We also find that Beethoven remained single through it all, and never won a helpmate to guide his destinies and curb his eccentricities. His love for women was pure and sincere, if not lasting, and many indications of the strength of his pa.s.sion are to be found in the great works that bear his name.

That Beethoven stood in sore need of a wife to regulate his personal habits may well be a.s.sumed. Probably there never was a lodger who was more constantly in trouble than this irritable and absent-minded genius.

Wholly absorbed in his music, he never seemed to realize that thumping the piano at all hours of the day and night might prove disagreeable to his fellow boarders. Even when not playing, he would think out his great themes, and fall into a fit of abstraction that might last for hours. He would stand beating the time, or he would pace the room shouting out his melodies with full voice. As an antidote to this excitement, he would pour water over his hands at frequent intervals, regardless of the damage to the floor and the ceiling below. He was fond of taking long walks, which he would not omit in wet weather, and when he returned on rainy days the furniture was sure to suffer. He indulged in the habit of shaving at his window, to the great amus.e.m.e.nt of the people pa.s.sing by, and the intense chagrin of his landladies. As a result of these traits, he was forced to make frequent changes of base, and at one time he was paying rent in four different places at once.

The following story of Beethoven's absent-mindedness is vouched for by Moscheles: "When I came in early to find Beethoven, he was still abed; but feeling wide-awake and lively, he jumped up and placed himself at the window just as he was, in order to examine the 'Fidelio' numbers which I had arranged. Naturally a crowd of boys gathered under the window, whereupon he roared out, 'Now, what do those ---- boys want?'

Upon my pointing to his own scantily clad figure, he said, 'Yes, yes, you are quite right,' and immediately put on a dressing-gown."

Beethoven and his servants usually had hard times getting along with each other. He was utterly careless and untidy, and the utmost confusion reigned in his room. "Books and music were scattered in all directions,"

says a visitor. "Here the residue of a cold luncheon; there some full, some half-emptied, bottles. On the desk the hasty sketch of a new quartette; in another corner the remains of breakfast; on the pianoforte the scribbled hints for a n.o.ble symphony, yet little more than in embryo; hard by, a proof-sheet waiting to be returned; letters from friends, and on business, spread all over the floor; between the windows a goodly Stracchino cheese; on one side of it ample vestiges of a genuine Verona salami; and notwithstanding all this confusion, he constantly praised, with Ciceronian eloquence, his own neatness and love of order!" When something did go astray, he would complain bitterly that everything was done to annoy him; but, after a few moments of raving, he recovered his natural good humour.

Though never married, Beethoven was always in love. He had several attachments during his youthful days in Bonn, though none were really serious. Meeting again in later life with one of his early flames, the gifted singer, Magdalena Willman, he begged her to become his wife, but met with a refusal. "He was very ugly and half crazy," she said afterward in excuse. Most of the objects of his later affections were women of rank and position, but in early years he fell a prey to the charms of damsels in much more humble stations. According to his pupil, Ries: "Beethoven never visited me more frequently than when I lived in the house of a tailor, with three very handsome but thoroughly respectable daughters."

At twenty, he fell in love with Babette, daughter of the proprietress of a coffee-house that he frequented. That Babette's charms impressed others may be gathered from the fact that she afterward became the Countess Belderbusch. Three years later, Eleonora von Breuning was the recipient of his devotion, and he would no doubt have found a good wife in her if she, too, had not finally married some one else. The next important figure on the list was the Countess Babette de Keglevics, afterward Princess Odeschalchi, to whom Beethoven showed his feelings in the shape of the Sonata, Opus 7. The Baroness Ertmann he addressed as "Liebe, werthe, Dorothea Cecilia," while the Countess Erdody received the still warmer greeting of "Liebe, liebe, liebe, liebe Grafin." All of these women, and many others, were ready to stand almost any liberty from Beethoven, and they entertained the warmest affection for him. At a later date, the Countess Erdody erected a temple in her park to the memory of Beethoven. That his affections were changeable, if intense, was admitted by the composer himself. On being teased about his conquest of a beautiful woman, he admitted that she had interested him longer than any of the others,--namely, seven whole months.