The Private Life of the Great Composers

Cornell University Library ML 390.R87 3 1924 022 191 781 CORNELL UNIVERSITY LIBRARY - BOUGHT WITH THE INCOME OF THE SAGE ENDOWMENT FUND GIVEN IN 1 8^1 BY HENRY WILLIAMS SAGE ÛSIC L/BRARY The original of this book is in the Cornell University Library. There are no known copyright restrictions in the United States on the use of the text. http://www.archive.org/details/cu31924022191781 THE PEIVATE LIFE OF THE GREAT OOMPOSEES BEETHOVEN. THE PEIVATE LIFE OE'THE GEEAT COMPOSERS JOHN feedeeice: eowbotham AUTHOE op "the HISTORY OP JIDSIO," ETC. WITS FOSmAITS LONDON ISBISTEE AND COMPANY Limited 15 & 16 TAVISTOCK STREET, COVENT GAEDEN 1892 ; LOHDON PEINTED BY J, b. TIRTUE AND CO., LIMITED, CITY ROAD, To my esteemed Friend Of EndcUffe, Sheffield PREFACE. Foe the Lists of Works wMcIl are appended to eacL. Life I have to express my obligation to Mr. James D. Brown, the learned author of the "Dictionary of Musicians," whose admirable compilations exceed in correctness and completeness most foreign biblio- graphies. J. F. E. CONTENTS. PAGE 1. Beethoven 1 2. Mozart 33 3. Haydn 56 4. Bach 78 5. Handel 98 6. Gltjck 127 7. Mendelssohn 152 8. Chopin 173 9. schitbert 192 10. Liszt 211 11. EossiNi 231 12. Schumann 251 13. Donizetti 272 14. Meyeebeee 294 15. Wagner 316 BEETHOVEN. It is seven o'clock in fhe morning at No. 6, ScMn- kelsgasse, Vienna, and the summer sun is pouring in -&H-€e©dr" through the brown bottand blinds, wKch -are-the-soMtary -arwning- that the many-paned windows possessT- In a small room overlooMng the street, Beethoven, the only lodger of the house, has risen, and is performiag a rapid toilet, in which appearance is sacrificed to speed, for he never looks at the glass, which is hanging conveniently in front of him ; and, in tying his stock, he twists it into such a knot that every fold of the carefully starched article disappears in a multitude of creases, and there seems no prospect of untying it again without actually cutting it asunder. He seems in a tremendous hurry to finish the intro- ductory business of the day. His coat is at last huddled on; and, as he rushes across the passage which separates his bedroom from his study behind, we may see very well that, in his htirry, he has forgotten to bru^h his hair, which gives him a very wild look as he bursts into the latter apartment, still slumbering undisturbed in the precise condition wherein he left it on the preceding evening. Not a paper seems to have been moved ; but he gazes suspiciously round to assure himself of this fact. -I-t-is- one-of-~his peouliarities'to1ilsi&t4hart--the-s&rvant-shalO.-ne,ver-enter his" Spaitei:€nt^_ All " tidying " and dusting have. ; 2 PEIVATE LIFE OF THE GREAT COMPOSERS. therefore^ to be done by stealth, and generally take place before lie is up in tbe morning. Tbe reason of Ms precipitate toilet this morning, if we would know the truth, is because he had left a valuable symphony lying among some old newspapers the night before, -which might easily have been car- ried off to light the fire -with, and he was tortured by anxiety until he had assured himself of the safety of his treasure. There it is, however, safe and sound. Al- though he strongly suspects that periodical -nsits are made to his apartments by the maid-of-all-work, she has evidently not been here this morning. He draws up the blinds with a sigh of relief. The room which serves him at once as a study and a parlour is a large one, lookiag out on the court behind, and except for the confusion in which it is kept would be a well-furnished one. A grand piano is a conspicu- ous object in the corner nearest the window ; opposite is a small -writing table positively piled -with manuscripts of every description. Not only do they load the table with their mountains of paper, but a number of them have fallen off at the sides, and form a goodly pile on the floor, where they have e'ndently lain for some time, if the dust that has accumulated on them is any evidence. In the centre of the room is the large oblong table, covered with a baize cloth, where he generally sits, to judge by the armchair drawn close up, and the pen and ink ready to hand. Like the writing table, it is littered -with manuscripts but they are manuscripts in the course of manufacture. Some are only just begun, others are nearly finished, but are provokiiigly left incomplete, when only a few more bars would end them; others, and the majority. ; BEETHOVEN. 3 are more or less advanced. There are specimens of several styles of music on the table ; and, side by side with an incomplete quartet and an unfinished sonata, are waltzes, transcriptions, variations on popular airs, and even arrangements of Scotch songs. The cherished symphony lies on a chair close to the stove, or ofen, which decorates the apartment, and is carefully unrolled by the composer from a Wiener Zeitung, wherein for some reason or another he had wrapped up the piece during the preceding evening. That task over, he proceeds to a cupboard, which occupies one corner of the apartment, and taking thence a coffee canister, very solemnly and with much delibe- ration counts out seventeen beans, which are to serve for his breakfast. Carrying them to the door he calls to the servant, and bids her prepare his coffee. Tho- roughly used to his peculiar ways, she departs with the coffee beans without a word, and, by the time she returns with the beverage, Beethoven is so immersed in his work as not to notice her entry. This morning he is engaged in the composition of the Seventh Symphony, and all his energies are ab- sorbed in the task. Bound him, on his table, lie a pile of little, dirty, bethumbed note-books,—some of them with covers (evidently having been bought in a shop) others, simply pieces of paper loosely stitched together ; others, nothing more than the backs of envelopes folded together in a bunch. They all have their dates, however, these little books ; and as the present year is 1812, we may see, by examining their superscriptions, that they go back year by year to 1803, or even earlier, and form a connected chain, with a few omissions here and there, so that, in the whole nine years, there is scarcely a month which is not accounted for. By the care he 4 PRIVATE LIFE OF THE GREAT COMPOSERS. takes of these little books he seems to treasure them highly. He selects first one, then another; inspects them earnestly, tidies up the heap for the year, and passes on to the next pile. His occupation at present will elucidate one cardinal principle of his manner of work, which was to jot down his musical thoughts as they occurred to him in stray moments, and model them into connected compositions at his leisure ; hence the very great interest that he displays in his note-hooks. He may be working at the allegro of the symphony: the first theme may have occurred to him yesterday, the second may have been pondered over and jotted down seven years ago, and the note-book when called upon can yield it up to him. Nay, more : a theme in a sonata or symphony, which reads to the eye and sounds to thj ear the most flowing and spontaneous of melodies, may be made up of stray thoughts, each of a few bars only, disjointed, uncon- nected, and jotted down years apart; but which he, by his marvellous art, can form into a beautiful and symmetrical whole. There are instances of such skilful fusion of ideas in the symphony which he is writing. For the leading theme of the second movement, to revive his con- ception of it he will have to look back six years ; and, at last, in an old thumbed and dog-eared note-book of the year 1806, he will find its beautiful melody first delineated. Even then it will be in a different form from what he is inclined to accept, and he will spend hours in trifling with this note, altering that, making, corrections, and re-corrections, xmtil Ms fas- tidious taste is -finally satisfied, and the lovely air is allowed to pass. His note-books will reveal him many thoughts for this Seventh Symphony, all of a remote — BEETHOVEN. date, and all of a simple and primitive form, "wl^cli Ms mornings are now occupied in refining into immortal If we take tlie liberty of examining these note-books for ourselves, we sball find them a bard task to decipher. Beethoven was Îways very jealous of, a strang'er in- specting these little books,jorJearJh§iJh£jnigkt_steal anyTBf*TM~goI3eniaeas. He nesd not have been so apprehensive™ noEo^ût himself could by any possi- bility read them. As we look at them we see a veritable chaos before us on the paper. The notes are written without Hnes, and, to discover their relative heights, we have to rely on the purest guesswork. They are thrown about, too, in such a confusion, and so heedlessly dotted down, that we can never tell where one air ends and another begins, or calculate that the same distance above which marked a major third may not be used at the very next interval to denote an octave.

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