A Comprehensive Library of Information
for Music Lovers and Musicians

Editor-in-Chief

DANIEL GREGORY MASON
Columbia University

Associate Editors

EDWARD B. HILL LELAND HALL
Harvard University Past Professor, Univ. of Wisconsin

Managing Editor

CÉSAR SAERCHINGER
Modern Music Society of New York

In Fourteen Volumes
Profusely Illustrated

NEW YORK
THE NATIONAL SOCIETY OF MUSIC

Edward Alexander MacDowell

After a photo from life

THE ART OF MUSIC: VOLUME FOUR

Music in America

Department Editors:

ARTHUR FARWELL

AND

W. DERMOT DARBY

Introduction by

ARTHUR FARWELL

Associate Editor 'Musical America'
Formerly Lecturer on Music, Cornell University, and
Supervisor of Municipal Concerts, City of New York

NEW YORK
THE NATIONAL SOCIETY OF MUSIC

Prophecy, not history, is the most truly important concern of music in America. What a new world, with new processes and new ideals, will do with the tractable and still unformed art of music; what will arise from the contact of this art with our unprecedented democracy—these are the questions of deepest import in our musical life in the United States. The past has consisted chiefly of a tasting of the musical art and traditions of the old world. The present is divided between imitation of the old and searching for the new, both in quality and application. The fruitage of our national musical life is still for the future. Intense as are the activities of the present, they are still merely the preparation of the soil for a future growth the nature and extent of which we can only guess at to-day. The stream of musical evolution in America, in the present transitional period, is rapidly overflowing its wonted banks, and passing the boundaries of the traditional musical world. The many are striving to obtain that which has been the exclusive possession of the few, and in this endeavor are not only extending, but also actually transforming the art. The paramount issues change with the passing of the seasons. One imported European sensation gives way to another. The problem of the true basis of American music dissolves overnight, and gives way to the problem [Pg viii] of the specific evaluation of individual composers, whatsoever their tendency. The questions of the narrow concert world dwindle before the greater question of a broad musical administration for the people. We stand, in fact, in a state of chaos with respect of musical activities and ideals, and only the clearest thinkers are able to catch the truer and larger drift of the national evolution, or effectively direct it. Too many persons are ready to suppose that the issues of music in America lie wholly within the scope of purely musical considerations, and that they do not depend, as is actually the case in certain important respects, upon the nature of the national ideals and tendencies. The national need will condition the supply, and the more truly and deeply a national need is fulfilled, the more vital will be the result. For this reason it is important that the general national condition with respect of music be carefully studied, and that misconceptions and theories be relinquished in favor of a knowledge of facts.

If now we set out to glance over the circumstances which have eventually brought about the present condition of music in America, we find that this history, taken in its largest outlines, has a threefold aspect, the features of which may be roughly termed appreciation, creation, and administration. The degree in which the new world has grasped and understood the facts of musical development in the old must constitute a chief factor in any consideration of its musical evolution, and this subject will naturally include a reference to musical culture in America. The second general division of the subject relates to American composers and the creative musical output of the nation. The matter of the appreciation of this output will best be touched upon in connection with this aspect of the subject. With the question of administration we approach a phase of the subject which has of late assumed momentous [Pg ix] proportions, touching directly, as it does, the great question of the relation of music to the people—the reaction of democracy to the art of music. The divisions of Appreciation and Administration are, of course, very closely related, and some chapters, such as that on Education, embody both aspects in almost equal degree. Hence the line cannot be very sharply drawn. Our sequence of chapters, while emphasizing the three aspects here set forth, has therefore been arranged with a view to presenting as continuous a story as possible. The chapters reviewing the creative activities of American composers have accordingly been placed together at the end of the volume.

We can not deeply consider the matter of the appreciation of the musical art of the old world by the new, without coming to the realization that it is complete. This, it must be recognized, is a matter which does not ultimately depend upon the numerical extent of the appreciators, but upon the quality of appreciation existing within the nation. Were this not so, we could not affirm the existence of a complete appreciation of its musical art by any nation of the world. In the broad sense in which we must necessarily speak in dealing only with the major facts of civilization and evolution, we may say that German musical art is appreciated by the German nation, even if only here or there someone is found who understands precisely the principles of Beethoven's form, or Wagner's harmony. In the practical progress of the world it is general acceptance and use, together with a sufficient artistic appreciation, technical and otherwise, on the part of certain individuals, which constitutes national appreciation of art. The knowledge and action of such preëminent individuals qualify the appreciative life of the nation. The evolution of the world to-day resides in the evolution of the progressive thought of individuals. Such thought outdistances the slower[Pg x] mental operations of the mass, which is nevertheless drawn along into ever new sets of changing conditions, through the modern development of the means of communication and the corresponding rapidity of both material and spiritual advance.

Such conditions of appreciation exist in a signal manner in the America of to-day. It is the simplest and most obvious of facts that there is a general acceptance and use of European musical art, old and new, throughout the 'musical world' of America. The relation of that 'musical world' to the whole population will be considered later. It is equally obvious to the qualified observer that no point of European musical art is without its thorough-going students and appreciators, and ardent conservators, in America. From Bach and Haydn, nay, from the Gregorian chant, the Greek enharmonic, the Oriental scale, down through every intermediate period and personality to the present day of Stravinsky and Schönberg, every phase of musical history and life has its students and its champions in the new world. America has, in truth, summed up the musical life of the ages and reflects it daily in the multitudinous activities of her musical world. The quality of American appreciation has one advantage of the greatest significance over that of any other land, in that it is without national or racial prejudice. Being without history or unity, with respect of race, the American people are without a racial folk-song, and hence are bound by no ancient racial sympathy or habit to a particular fundamental conception of the character of music. German music, French, Russian, Bohemian, Scandinavian, Italian—all are accepted with equal eagerness and sympathy. In America the world's music falls on fresh ears, with the result that a catholicity of taste prevails such as is to be found in no other land, and with the further result that a unique and broadly inclusive national impression of musical[Pg xi] character in general has been gained. This in turn is leading to a national creative musical output which, if it has not converged upon any one distinctive national character, is, on the other hand, wholly free from dependence upon the traditional character of the music of any other nation, and could have been produced by no other nation.

The upshot of the status of American appreciation of musical art is that, although the work of more extensively familiarizing the population with the world's music must continue, the evolution, broadly, of America as an appreciative nation has been fulfilled, and it can from now on find no true musical progress except as a creative nation. Not only has it studied, at home and abroad, all that the outside world has produced, but it has now thoroughly studied the various phases of aboriginal music which exist upon its own soil. The national life has passed beyond its school days and entered the period where it has no alternative but to face judgment as a musically productive nation with legitimate pretensions to maturity.

In view of the intense musical interest and eagerness of the American people, of the vigorous and very rapidly expanding development of musical life in the United States since the Civil War, and the enormous sums which the nation spends annually for musical education, both at home and abroad, it would be irrational to expect anything less than the results above indicated. Musical education, which has played so vast a part in this development, shares, nevertheless, the general chaotic condition of American musical life. The absence of a National Academy of Music leaves the country still without any official standard of musical education, although high ideals and thorough courses are maintained in the music departments of the larger universities. There are several independent musical academies and conservatories of high standing,[Pg xii] with a sufficiently broad and well ordered curriculum, and an unnumbered mass of nondescript music schools innocent of all normal standards. The same scale, from the highest excellence to downright charlatanism, is to be found in the field of private instruction, and one of the greatest educational problems which the nation faces is to bring some element of standardization into this field. This is a matter for state action, and in several states a movement is well under way for the licensing of music teachers. The development of music in the public schools, well grounded in the early part of the last century, has of late years been pushed with vigor and intelligence, and has led to unprecedented studies in the adaptation of music to the child, as well as to the composition of a great quantity of new and appropriate children's songs of excellent quality. The chief difficulty with national musical progress through the public schools lies in the fact that such a minute proportion of public school scholars go to high school and college, most of them losing all contact with musical education before reaching an age when their interest in it can be firmly established. This circumstance is now happily being continually more widely met from extra-educational quarters, in the present movement for music for the people through various channels to be referred to later. Professional educators are inclined to lay too much stress on school education as a means of developing appreciation in the mass, forgetting that the time must come when the chief musical training of the people, with respect of their ultimate enjoyment of music, must consist in a general public hearing of music of the highest order.

In centres of highly refined musical culture, America, from East to West, is not lacking. An aristocracy of musical appreciation has followed upon the establishment of symphonic and chamber music organizations in a number of cities. This culture is, however, almost[Pg xiii] exclusively devoted to the maintenance of traditional European standards, and is inclined to take slight cognizance of the native and democratic developments in which the true national progress of the present lies. The presence of such a culture in America is therefore not altogether an unmixed blessing; in fact it may lead to certain results of positive evil. The presence of retrospective hyper-refinement in a nation at a time when rugged creative strength, even if crude in its artistic results, should be manifested, may be harmful in its effect upon normal creative progress, especially when, with the backing of wealth, the press, and the academy, it arrogates to itself the possession of the true vision of artistic standards.

If, then, the tide of musical appreciation in America has reached a normal level, in accordance with the general civilization of the world of to-day, if the appreciative era, purely as such, is past, the creative epoch has only fairly begun. America, in musical composition, already reckons a historical sequence approaching to a classical, a romantic and an ultra-modern period, exhibiting the strange spectacle of most of the founders of the first period living to see the flowering of the last, during their active lifetime. In fact, some of the pioneers have actively engaged in fostering the issues of all three epochs. The truth of this curious condition is that this triple-aspected development of the past fifty years can not in reality be said to represent even the beginning of the actual creative epoch of the nation. As the child is said to pass through phases corresponding to the entire ancient history of the race, so this chapter in American music represents the rapid passage of the youthful America through the previous history of the art; it has represented the desire to catch up with the world at large. Even if some works of lasting value have been produced, as is undoubtedly the case, this period has in[Pg xiv] actuality represented a mere reflex of European musical civilization, a surface agitation, to be followed by an authentic and original national productivity along the lines of its own needs and ideals.

So irregular and tumultuous have been the conditions of musical development in America, that early influences have been of relatively small qualitative importance in determining the ultimate issues of American music. There are but two such early influences of importance to record, and one of these has become wholly negligible with relation to our independent art of music, finding its only resultant effect in the church music of America. This, attributable in the first instance to the Netherland school of the Renaissance, appeared as the early English contrapuntal school of Purcell, becoming associated with the music of the Protestant Church in England, and finally becoming diluted to the productions of the school of Billings and Hopkinson in America. American hymnology undoubtedly owes its character to this evolutionary sequence, although in the end American church music has become inundated with the German influence in its more sentimental aspects, and presents in general a profound degeneration too momentous for discussion in the present brief review. The one great original influence acknowledged by the nation, in its musically creative life, is the mighty German tradition of the epoch of Beethoven. It is significant and fortuitous that America was colonized, musically, at the time when the influence of that tradition was paramount in the world. It was the emigrating German music teacher, in every city and town of the United States, who implanted the fundamental conception of musical art in American civilization. Accepted and consulted everywhere, he determined the character of music in America in the period of reconstruction and educational expansion after the Civil War. His influence[Pg xv] was solidified by the character of symphonic and choral enterprise, and by that of the performances of German musical artists touring in America. The Italian was the accredited opera singer and nothing more; the German was the teacher.

In the subsequent course of developments, two matters have militated against the ultimate domination of the German influence in American composition. One is the extensive change which has since occurred in the racial nature of the population. Continued immigration from all lands has eventually produced a population too diverse to accept and perpetuate, as its dominant musical character, the tradition of any one nation, however musically great. The other is the amazing musical awakening of all Europe since the epoch of Beethoven, and especially since Wagner, and the consequent deluge of modern music from various nations which has poured in upon American musical life. In view of the infinity of newly revealed possibilities, the American composer has been unwilling to continue to reflect merely the one tradition with which his nation was formerly acquainted, in howsoever high honor that tradition was held. It is to be said, however, that the substantial character of German formal musical construction has exerted, as it should, a permanent influence upon the American attitude toward composition, and one which is certain to operate beneficially upon the creative musical life of the nation. The American point of departure has been one not so much of technical system and ideals generally, as of temperament.

A third matter qualifying this emancipation of American music is the unearthing of the mass of aboriginal folk music peculiar to America, particularly that of the Indian and the negro. This has had a far more significant and widespread influence upon composers in America than critics in general have been willing[Pg xvi] to admit, and many of the strongest works now appearing in this country acknowledge an influence from these sources.

The 'American folk-song' discussion arose after what has been termed the classical period of American music, of which J. K. Paine may be considered the founder, and during the period in which the romantic influence, culminating in the work of MacDowell, was beginning to yield to the influence of the ultra-moderns. The factors which broke the exclusive German domination in America were, on one hand, the following up on this side of the water of the musical individuality gained by other European nations, and, on the other hand, the movement for the development of aboriginal folk-song in America. To these causes, some may add a spontaneous climatic influence, but of this there has as yet been no material demonstration.

The gist of the folk-song discussion was the question as to whether the basis of a characteristic national American musical art was to be found in the music of the negroes or Indians. This discussion arose after Antonin Dvořák's proclamation of such a possibility during his sojourn in America in the years 1892-95, and rose to its height several years after the foundation in 1901, by the writer, of The Wa-Wan Press, a movement for the attainment of a greater freedom in American music along both modern European and American aboriginal lines. As in all such matters, the question was answered by the degree and quality of creativeness in the works brought forward in exemplification of the principle. Good works on Indian or negro themes have lived, and bad ones have died. It soon became plainly evident that there was no popular prejudice against music drawing upon the characteristics of these native aboriginal sources; on the contrary, much interest was evinced, as has frequently been shown by the attitude of audiences listening to[Pg xvii] such works and by the popularity which certain of them have attained. The subject has also been made one for special study by numerous musical clubs throughout the country. What was asked was merely that the result should be good music. The influence of Indian and negro music upon American composition has thus spontaneously come to be recognized as a national and acceptable one, and the reflection of it by American composers to-day arouses scarcely a murmur of comment. That only a certain proportion of composers in America would respond to these influences was soon perceived, and with the readiness of the people to accept this kind of work, it became merely a question of the proportion of American musical art which should exhibit these tendencies. There appears to be no diminution of the tendency of many composers to draw upon these apparently inexhaustible aboriginal sources, and with the constant advance of creative musical art in America, and with its eagerness to press to a conclusion every available phase of music susceptible of development, there is every reason to believe that this influence, now generally recognized, will lead to a very considerable mass of achievement of a high character. America is too diverse in its sympathies and ideals to acknowledge any one national or racial influence as paramount in its musical art, but absolute creative freedom is essential to its national character.

Upon the original German influence, which has been rapidly modified in America by the work of Wagner and Strauss, there has followed chiefly the influence of modern France. Many American composers have lent themselves with avidity to the assimilation of the new technical resources revealed by Debussy and his colleagues, with excellent results so long as they considered these merely as accretions to their previous resource, but in general with equal failure where they have thought to create in the spirit of the French idiom.[Pg xviii] The directness of Russian musical expression has made its appeal to American composers, though its influence upon the color of American music has been inconsiderable in comparison with the French. The one cumulative effect of the many influences, from within and without, which have qualified the nature of American music, especially during the last two decades, has been to wrench it free from the uninspiring and nationally inappropriate character which it had acquired as the result of its original exclusive early German influence, without, it is to be noted, leading it into imitative subservience to the particular character of the musical art of any other nation. In other words, America has gained its creative musical freedom, even if still too new to that condition to manifest its ultimate results. With this widened horizon, the true creative epoch of American music has only now begun. The handful of American composers of serious ideals and noteworthy ability who could be named a few years ago has increased to scores, and new names appear in such rapid succession that the fairly definite knowledge which America had of its chief composers of the 'classical' and 'romantic' epochs can give only the feeblest conception of the present condition of composition in America. The best of the newer work shows a loftiness of ideals, a breadth of outlook, a definiteness of purpose, a freshness of color, a sense of the beautiful and an esprit which argue strongly for the future honor of American music. The chief danger which threatens the American composer is the tendency to accept and conform to the standards of the centres of conventional and fashionable musical culture, especially in unsubstantial modern aspects, and to fail to study out the real nature and musical needs of the American people. Such a tendency naturally lingers with the lingering domination of Europe over the standards and the machinery of American musical life. Conformity means representation[Pg xix] and a certain sort of acclaim for the composer; nonconformity means severance from the usual and conventional centres and institutions of musical culture. Critical approbation does not mean the response of the people; the composers most highly acclaimed by the critics can by no means be said to have come closest to touching the national heart. The attitude of the world of musical 'culture' in America is still cold toward the native producer; this narrow American 'culture' world pays for the maintenance of fashionable foreign standards, and resents any interference with this course. Concert singers are seldom heard in American songs worthy of their artistry, and orchestral conductors seldom give, on their own initiative, successful native orchestral works, an isolated performance of which has been arduously procured elsewhere.

With the people generally, however, the matter is quite otherwise. The people of the nation have never shown a disposition to receive otherwise than cordially the work of their own composers. From Stephen Foster, through the ranks of popular music composers, to MacDowell, to many song composers of the present, and latterly to the composers of music for popular festivals and pageants—wherever the composer has gone directly to the people and served their needs, whether in the sphere of lesser or greater ideals, he has found a ready welcome and a hearty response. The pathway of true creativity, of healthy growth and achievement for the composer in America to-day, lies in abandoning the competition with European sensationalists and ultra-modernists in the narrow arena of the concert halls of 'culture', and turning to the fulfilment of national needs in the broadest and deepest sense.

The accomplishment of this matter is linked with the third and last general division of our main subject,[Pg xx] the question of administration. As a natural consequence of events in American musical history, dating from the earliest days, there has arisen the so-called 'musical world' of America to-day, the well-defined national system of concert, recital and operatic life. This system arose normally to supply the new world with the products of the highly developed musical art of the old, and in such a capacity it has admirably served its purpose. In the course of time, however, and with the increasing wealth and musical culture of America, the harvest to be reaped by the commercial exploitation of foreign artists has not remained unperceived by a country not naturally backward in the perception of commercial advantage. It is quite natural that those who took into their hands the management of these affairs should seek the greatest profit which they could be made to yield. This, it will readily be seen, was not to come from the broad development of a given locality, which would involve education and a departure from the centres of wealth, but from the exploitation of the narrow circle of wealth and culture which existed in every community of importance. Thus a great circuit was established throughout the country, by which a process of skimming the cream from as many communities as possible was set in operation, in the presentation of famous foreign artists to what has been allowed to pass as the American public. Thus a system established originally as a service to the people has finally degenerated to the condition of a commercial enterprise which is utterly without regard to the broader interests of the people. The true condition of affairs is made evident to-day by the fact that when a resident of any moderate-sized prosperous American city starts to inaugurate some local musical enterprise for the benefit of the whole community, and calling for the entire community's support, he learns that the concert and recital life of his city, its 'musical[Pg xxi] world,' reaches and is supported by but from three to five per cent. of the entire population. The other ninety-five to ninety-seven per cent. find the regular musical events beyond their means, as well as beyond the facts of their culture, though in the latter respect America is now rapidly learning that the enjoyment of the best music is far less dependent upon special education than has commonly been supposed.

Meanwhile, by phonograph and player-piano, by newspaper and magazine, by high-class municipal concerts and occasional chance glimpses into the world of greater musical possibilities, the mass of the people have begun to become awakened to the existence of the larger musical world which they do not see and the larger musical life which they do not share, and to crave participation in it. Finally, therefore, we have the spectacle of an American 'musical world' which is no longer true to American conditions and which does not serve the people. In short, we have finally come face to face with the problem of the reaction of musical art and democracy.

With this question the nation has of late begun to deal in no half-hearted or uncertain manner. In fact, the national response to this situation involves the greatest American musical movement of the day. In its earlier phase the question asked was: Will the people, under democracy, rise to the accepted standards of musical culture? A negative answer to this question has been generally entertained, and among cultured people it has been commonly supposed that democracy would drag down the standards of musical culture. That a wholly new and multifold phase of musical life would arise to meet the requirements of a civilization such as that of America seems to have been earlier suspected or foreseen only by a few thinking students of conditions, who recognized the fact that the exact meeting of the mass, as it became more enlightened, with[Pg xxii] the conditions of traditional musical culture was not the solution which was to be expected or even desired. The plain fact was that the people at large were not enjoying the benefits, the pleasure, recreation, or inspiration, as the case might be, of all that the world prizes as music in any of its forms above that of popular songs and dances. Neither the educational system, on the one hand, nor the cultural system, on the other, provided them with it. One merely gave a little elementary training of the most primitive sort, and for a short time, to children, and the other did not reach beyond the extremely restricted sphere of culture and wealth. A movement was needed which should bring music in all of its forms directly to the masses of the people, and in the nation-wide campaign for what may be termed 'music for the people' such a movement has arisen. Experiments on every hand have shown that the people have needed only to be brought in contact with the higher forms of music, under advantageous conditions, to rise spontaneously to the enjoyment of it. The movement, in its activities, has assumed no particular form, but has taken a variety of forms according to the possibilities of local conditions. The 'Forest Festival,' or 'Midsummer High Jinks,' of the Bohemian Club in San Francisco, while not open to the general public, has nevertheless shown the potent appeal of outdoor musical dramatic festivals to a large number of persons not commonly in touch with musical life. Municipal concerts on a scale not hitherto attempted, such as those in Central Park, New York, presenting not band, but orchestral concerts of the world's greatest music, have met with an astonishing and enthusiastic response on the part of the masses who have hitherto had no opportunity of hearing anything above the popular music of the streets, the dance halls, and the 'movies.' The musical phase of the social centre movement has assumed vast and national[Pg xxiii] proportions, making use of the public school halls for concerts and recitals for thousands of persons who were previously without musical opportunities. Certain towns, such as Bethlehem, Pa., Lindsburg, Kans., and the towns of the 'Litchfield County Choral Union,' Conn., have established choral enterprises which include in the choruses practically the entire population. In two years the custom of Christmas trees with music, free to the people, has become almost a national movement. The 'community chorus,' such as that established in Rochester, N. Y., with a membership of nearly one thousand drawn from the people at large, and singing in the public parks and school halls, should prove a desirable form of people's musical enterprise in many places. Standard symphony orchestras in various cities are branching out extensively in the direction of giving concerts involving the highest order of music to the people at popular prices, and in some cities the organization of symphony orchestras for popular price concerts is threatening the existence of the regular orchestra. And well-nigh surpassing in significance most other phases of the general movement, and certainly in their popular inclusiveness, are the pageants or 'community dramas' with music, which are now constituting a feature of community life throughout the country.

If, then, the appreciative epoch along the older lines, is concluded in America, it may be said that the nation is coming to a new appreciation of music, as a whole, in its relation to humanity. The new movement will call forth new and larger efforts on the part of American composers, who, with their present thorough assimilation of the various musical influences of the world, will lead the nation into a new and mature creative epoch.

Arthur Farwell.

August, 1914.

[Pg xxiv]

[Pg xxvi]

[Pg xxvii]

[Pg xxix]

CHAPTER I
OUR ENGLISH INHERITANCE

Whatever else the American music-lover may be, he is decidedly not chauvinistic. Deprecatingly he is wont to speak of native artistic accomplishment, and, however much he may be disposed to vaunt the stellar achievements of our few great opera houses and orchestras, he is content to draw a veil of modest silence over that part of our musical history which precedes the advent of those de luxe organizations. Hence it is, perhaps, that the searchlight of the historian has played but fitfully upon the early musical life of America—for, although popular interest may not inspire the writing of history, it is not without its influence on the publication thereof. Possibly the musical life of pre-Revolutionary America has had little to do with shaping the ultimate artistic destinies of the nation, yet it formed the matrix into which our subsequent musical culture has been embedded and as such it is of both interest and importance to those who would follow a phase of our national development, as yet regrettably neglected.

It is a peculiar tendency of the American historian to lay the foundation of our national history squarely on the Rock of Plymouth. A solid foundation, truly, but not a very broad one. The predominant influence of New England in the industrial and commercial development of the United States can hardly be gainsaid.[Pg 2] That its influences on the country's æsthetic development have been equally predominant is questionable. More especially in musical matters are we inclined to call it into dispute. If we might judge from American popular music, we should be disposed to infer that such influences as may have been active in the shaping of it came chiefly from the South. Nor is popular music a negligible criterion in this respect, for in it have always lain the germs of truly national art. Of course, our knowledge of the state of musical culture in the early colonies does not enable us to say definitely and dogmatically just where and how American musical development first began. It will probably appear eventually that the early musical life of the colonies has had very little to do with our musical culture of to-day. But, purely as a matter of historic justice, it might be pointed out that unqualified statements, such as the assertion of Ritter that 'the first steps of American musical development may be traced back to the first establishment of English Puritan colonies in New England,' are, to say the least, somewhat premature.[1]

I

A consideration of music among the Indians is not germane to our present purpose. As far as we are [Pg 3]concerned Indian music is an exotic, and it is only of recent years that American composers have turned to it in a conscious search for national color which is, perhaps, the first real symptom of aspiration toward characteristically national expression. From the point of view of musical history the development of American music must be considered as beginning among the first white settlers on these shores, and it may be said at once that those beginnings, like Guy of Warwick's death, are still 'wrop in mystery.' Regarding musical life in the colonies before the year 1700 our information is so slight as to be negligible. For almost a century preceding that year white men—many of them men of culture—had been settled in America.[2] That these men completely forgot the art in which so many of them found pleasure, and in which at least a few of them must have possessed some skill, is a supposition too absurd to be seriously entertained. As to the nature and proportions of their musical activities we have no exact evidence and, in default of such, it is necessary for us to dip a little into comparative history.

In England the curtain of the seventeenth century rose on a country that as yet knew not cropped heads nor Geneva cloaks nor steeple-crowned hats nor the snuffling drone of Hop-on-High-Bomby mournfully mouthing the sinfulness of the flesh and the menace of the wrath to come. England still deserved its old-time appellation of 'merrie.' It still ate and drank, sang and swore, bussed and wantoned blithely, lustily, as befitted a country with a full purse, a sound constitution, and a healthy indifference to the disturbing subtleties of theology and metaphysics. It was a robust, Falstaffian England, still unregenerate, still addicted to sack and loose company, but with a mind as clearly [Pg 4]keen as a Sheffield blade and a heart as soft and impressionable as its own Devonshire butter—'pitiful-hearted butter that melted at the sweet tale of the sun.' In short, a normal, vigorous, able-bodied, human country, not yet soured by the virus of an acidulated Puritanism, nor devitalized by the distemper of a cultivated licentiousness; a country in whose fertile soil the seeds of art might well germinate and flourish apace. And, as a matter of fact, English music, like English drama and poetry, was then approaching the culmination of its golden age. In Italy, Palestrina had just died; Peri and Monteverdi were shaping the beginnings of opera; the madrigal, the mystery, the morality and the masque were the prevailing media of secular musico-literary expression, while popular instrumental music was represented by Pavans, Galliards, Allmains, Courantes, and other courtly-sounding forms. The stern, strict god of polyphony was already stooping to flirt with the light and wayward muse of the people, making the first tentative advances toward a union from which was destined to spring a seductively human art. Never since has England stood so high musically among the nations of Europe. Never since has she produced composers who so closely rivalled the greatest of their contemporaries. There was William Byrd 'a Father of Musicke,' as the Cheque-book of the Chapel Royal has it—one of the most learned contrapuntists of his time and unequalled by any of his contemporaries in compositions for the virginals. There was John Dowland, 'whose heavenly touch upon the lute doth ravish human sense.' There was Orlando Gibbons, one of the greatest composers of his period, who was then in the beginning of his distinguished career. These, and many other English composers of scarcely lesser note, were as highly honored abroad as they were at home. Their influence on the development of German music has been admitted even by German[Pg 5] critics.[3] In England the madrigal flourished then as it did nowhere else in Europe and reached a degree of perfection hitherto unattained even by the best madrigalists of Italy and the Netherlands. What Peri and Monteverdi were doing successfully in Italy in the pseudo-Grecian music-drama, the English were attempting to do, more characteristically though less successfully, in the masque. Some of the most famous of English popular songs—like 'The Bailiff's Daughter of Islington,' 'The Three Ravens,' and 'Drink to Me Only with Thine Eyes'—have come down to us from that period. Indeed, the musical vitality of the England of that time was truly remarkable, and thousands of madrigals, motets, anthems, ayres, and ballets remain as eloquent witnesses to its teeming fecundity. English instrumentalists were then rated the best in Europe and were as commonly employed in the courts of Germany as German instrumentalists are now employed in the restaurants of London.

Nor was this noteworthy musical activity confined to the small class of professional musicians. If we may believe Morley,[4] and read aright the references of Shakespeare and other contemporary writers, music was sedulously practised by all classes in England, from the sovereign to the beggar. Queen Elizabeth, we find, played excellently on the virginals and the poliphant, though it does not appear that her dour successor took very kindly to such exercises. It seems to have been a matter of course that every well-reared girl should sing at sight and play acceptably on the virginals, the flute, and the cittern. Sight-reading—alas for our degenerate days—was apparently a universal accomplishment, at least among people of the better classes. After viols were introduced, every gentleman's [Pg 6]house contained a chest of them and the chance visitor was expected to take his part at sight in the impromptu concerts which were a favorite form of social diversion. 'Tinkers sang catches,' says Chappell, 'milkmaids sang ballads; carters whistled; each trade, and even the beggars had their special songs; the bass-viol hung in the drawing-room for the amusement of waiting visitors; and the lute, cittern, and virginals, for the amusement of waiting customers, were the necessary furniture of the barber-shop. They had music at dinner; music at supper; music at weddings; music at funerals; music at night, music at dawn; music at work; music at play.'

II

From this intensely musical England came the band of colonists who landed at Jamestown, Virginia, in 1607. About half of them were 'gentlemen' and the remainder were soldiers and servants. The proportion of gentlemen—'unruly gallants,' as Capt. John Smith calls them—was less in later emigrations, though it was always comparatively high. Many soldiers came, and some convicts and young vagrants picked up in the streets of London were sent out as servants. Starvation, disease, and the attacks of Indians left very few survivors among those who came to Virginia during the first ten years. Afterward the population grew very rapidly and contained, on the whole, representative elements of all classes in England, with a comparatively large proportion of the upper classes. In 1619, as we learn from a statement of John Rolfe, quoted in John Smith's 'Generali Historie,' the first negro slaves were introduced into Virginia. A description in the 'Briefe Declaration' shows Virginia about two years later as a country already in the enjoyment of peace[Pg 7] and prosperity. 'The plenty of these times,' says the writer, 'unlike the old days of death and confusion, was such that every man gave free entertainment to friends and strangers.' About that time land was laid out for a free school at Charles City and for a university and college at Henrico, but the project was not then carried through. As yet, however, there was not any pressing demand for public educational advantages, as the proportion of children was still very small. Later years saw a great increase in the population, both native and English born. During the Civil War there was a large exodus from England of cavaliers, as well as merchants, yeomen, and other substantial people, who found the troubles at home little to their taste or profit. There must have been little to distinguish the Virginia society about the middle of the seventeenth century from English society of the same period. The colonists lived well; they were prosperous; they had good, substantial houses equipped with good, substantial English furniture; they entertained with open-handed freedom and generosity. 'The Virginia planter,' says George Park Fisher, 'was essentially a transplanted Englishman in tastes and convictions and imitated the social amenities and culture of the mother country. Thus in time was formed a society distinguished for its refinement, executive ability and generous hospitality for which the Ancient Dominion is proverbial.'[5]

The population of Virginia always remained largely rural, but nevertheless there was social life aplenty. Education was mainly in the hands of the clergy, who, as a rule, were Englishmen of culture. But steps toward public education were taken at a very early period. The attempt of 1621 failed, as we have noticed, but in 1635—three years before John Harvard made his [Pg 8]bequest—Benjamin Syms left an endowment for a free school in Virginia. This, to quote a recent writer, 'was the first legacy by a resident of the American plantations for the promotion of education.' Another free school was established in 1655 by Captain Henry King, and two in 1659 by Thomas Eaton and Captain William Whittingdon. In 1670, according to a report from Sir William Berkeley to the Commissioners of Foreign Plantations, the population of Virginia consisted of 40,000 persons, of whom 2,000 were negro slaves and 5,000 white servants. The 2,000 negro slaves probably included a number of mulattoes, for even then there must have been traffic between white men and negro women, as we may infer from the law which gave to a child the status of its mother. The remainder of the population was almost exclusively English. What we have said of Virginia in the seventeenth century applies also in a general way to Maryland and Carolina, both as to population and conditions, though the Huguenot emigration to Carolina in 1685 made a decided difference in the character of the population there subsequent to that date.

This brief incursion into general history has been made, not to prove anything, but to bring forward a few facts which may be found suggestive. The Southern colonists during the seventeenth century were predominantly English people of the first and second generations. They were fairly representative of contemporary English society, though the proportion of 'gentlemen' was higher among them than at home. They came, as we have seen, from a country where music was practised enthusiastically by all classes. It is preposterous to think that in the new country they discarded their musical tastes like a worn-out garment. There is no reason why they should have done so. After the first years of famine and turmoil and death they were comparatively peaceful and prosperous. There were[Pg 9] among them, it is true, a certain number of stern-faced Puritans, melancholy preachers of the sinfulness of pleasure; but on the whole the attitude of the Southern colonists toward life was that of the gay, gallant, laughter-loving cavaliers. There is little doubt that these same gallant gentlemen kept up in the colonies that devotion to the joyeuse science for which they had been famed since the days of Cœur de Lion. In the announcements of the early concerts at Charleston in the first half of the eighteenth century we find that the orchestra was often composed in part of neighboring gentlemen, who were good enough to lend their services for the occasion, or sometimes that certain gentlemen, of their courtesy, obliged with instrumental or vocal selections. Whence we may infer that the custom of keeping a chest of viols in his house for the use of his family and his guests, so generally observed by the English gentleman at the beginning of the seventeenth century, was still honored by the colonial gentleman at the beginning of the eighteenth.

The cultured colonists followed English fashions very closely in all things, and the music they played was doubtless the music in vogue in London drawing-rooms and concert halls. The humble colonists, presumably, were less concerned with the mode, and sang and played the old English tunes which they and their fathers and their grandfathers had brought across the sea. American historians have taken for granted, with a good deal of smug complacency, that there was no real musical life among these people. The assumption seems to be based—if it has any basis—on the fact that the population of the South was preëminently rural. But that there was little urban life does not mean that there was little community life. On the contrary, life in the South was much more intimately gregarious than is usual in towns and cities, and it is in hospitable social gatherings rather than in stiff-backed attendance[Pg 10] at concerts and operas that the musical soul of a people finds real expression. Furthermore, the Southern colonists had a communal consciousness, as we may see from their early essays in public education, and it is probable that this consciousness expressed itself in other ways of which we have no evidence. The churches brought them together, also, perhaps for social as well as religious gatherings. It is, indeed, a plausible surmise that musical reunions of some sort, apart from purely private entertainments, were not unknown to them.

The music of the colonial proletariat was English, that of the gentlefolk largely so. Among the common people this music may have undergone some alteration in the course of time, and certain gifted ones among them may have made original music of their own. We can conceive that the gentlefolk occasionally occupied themselves with musical composition, and some of their efforts, perchance, percolated through the classes and became the property of all the people. We cannot say, but it is possible; it is even probable. If English music did not undergo a change in Virginia and Maryland and Carolina, we can be sure that it altered somewhat in the hands of the pioneers who carried it to Kentucky, to Missouri, to Texas. One hears in the Southwest many quaint, characteristic old songs and tunes of unmistakably English origin. We can safely assume that by the time they reached Missouri and Texas from England they had absorbed quite a little local color.

Nor must we forget that the music of the American negroes is the music of the English colonists strained through the African temperament; or perhaps we should say the African temperament strained through the music of the English colonists. In any case, Afro-American music is a blend, and the mixing, we may suppose, began with the beginning of slavery in the[Pg 11] Southern colonies. The negro slaves were an ignorant, impressionable people set down in the middle of a white civilization from which they naturally and immediately began to absorb the things that were appreciable to their senses. The most easily appreciable, perhaps, of these things was music, and such music as the negroes heard among the white people they absorbed and, to some extent, assimilated.[6]

Just how much all this has to do with American music we cannot say, any more than we can say just what is American music. National music, we take it, is the composite musical inheritance of a people, molded and colored by their composite characteristics, inherited and acquired. And the music of the South is undoubtedly part of the musical inheritance of the American people. How much of that inheritance we have rejected and how much retained will not appear until some historian arises with enough scholarship to analyze our musical heritage in detail; with enough genius in research to trace its elements to their sources; and with enough patriotic enthusiasm to lend him patience for the task. In the meantime, surface conditions fail to justify the arbitrary ruling out of the South as an utterly negligible factor in our musical development.

III

In approaching the history of the New England Puritans one is in danger of making serious mistakes, due to temperamental prejudices and to a misconception of the Puritan attitude toward life. The term Puritan itself is more or less indeterminate, covering all sorts and conditions of men with a wide diversity [Pg 12]of views on things spiritual and temporal.[7] There is a very general impression, totally unsupported by historic evidence, that the Puritans frowned intolerantly on every worldly diversion, including music. Many of the zealots did, it is true—in every movement there are extremists—and the general trend of thought was influenced somewhat by their thunderous denunciations of all appearance of frivolity. In such circumstances the average human being, uncertain how far he may safely go, is inclined to avoid the vicinity of danger and seek the haven of a strictly negative attitude toward everything about which may hang the very slightest suspicion of impropriety. We have many instances in history of this same tendency. The early Christians, taking Christ's warning against the world and the flesh in its most extreme literalness, adopted a course for avoiding hell and gaining heaven which, if consistently followed, would soon have left the world barren of any beings from whom the population either of heaven or of hell might be recruited. We are apt, however, to exaggerate the self-denying habits of the Puritans. On many points of conduct and dogma they were fiercely and uncompromisingly intolerant. Their Sabbath observance was strict to the point of absurdity. But in general they were not disposed to deprive the world of innocent pleasure.

The New England Puritans were more or less of a piece with their English brethren, and we have every evidence that the latter tolerated music, even cultivated it with assiduity. Milton's love of music is well known.[8] John Bunyan, a typical lower-class Puritan, speaks of it frequently and appreciatively in the 'Pilgrim's[Pg 13] Progress.' 'That musicke in itself is lawfull, usefull and commendable,' says Prynne in his 'Histrio-mastix,' 'no man, no Christian dares deny, since the Scriptures, Fathers and generally all Christian, all Pagan Authors extant do with one consent averre it.' Even the anonymous author of the 'Short Treatise against Stage-Playes' (1625) admits that 'musicke is a cheerful recreation to the minde that hath been blunted with serious meditations.' Not only Cromwell, but many other Parliamentary officers, including Hutchinson, Humphrey, and Taylor, were sincere devotees of the art. Colonel Hutchinson, one of the regicides, 'had a great love to music,' according to the 'Memoirs' of his wife, and often diverted himself with a viol, 'on which he played masterly; he had an exact ear and judgment in other music.' In the retinue of Balustrode Whitelocke, who was sent by Cromwell as ambassador to Queen Christina of Sweden in 1653, were two persons included 'chiefly for music,' besides two trumpeters. Whitelocke himself was 'in his younger days a master and composer of music.' On one occasion, during his stay at the Swedish court, the queen's musicians 'played many lessons of English composition,' and on another occasion, after the ambassador's party had played for her, Christina declared that 'she never heard so good a concert of music and of English songs; and desired Whitelocke, at his return to England, to procure her some.'

Ecclesiastical music was indeed vigorously suppressed, but solely for reasons touching the propriety of its employment in the worship of God. Outside the churches the Puritans showed no particular objection to the art. In fact, the practice of music was common enough among them, if we are to believe the statement of Solomon Eccles, a professional musician, who was successively a Presbyterian, an Independent, a Baptist, and an Antinomian, and always found it easy to make[Pg 14] a living by his profession. Notwithstanding the ban on theatres, public operatic performances were inaugurated in London in 1656 and were continued without interference. The publishing of music flourished under the Commonwealth as it never did before in England, and large collections of Ayres, Dialogues, and other pieces remain to us from that period. Such activity in music publishing could have been stimulated only by a corresponding demand, and a demand for printed music could not have co-existed with a neglect of musical practice.[9]

However, we must not jump to the conclusion that the American Puritans were as freely inclined to the practice of music as their brethren across the sea. As a matter of fact, they had no musical life whatsoever. There are some points in the psychology and condition of the New England colonists which may help to explain this seeming anomaly. A large proportion of the people of England were Puritans merely because it was not safe or convenient for them to be anything else, and they changed their moral and theological complexions just as soon as a change in fashion rendered the transformation desirable. Many of the most prominent members of the Parliamentary party were drawn into the movement more through political ambition or democratic ideals than for religious reasons. Cromwell's famous 'Trust in God and keep your powder dry' might well express the mental attitude of more than a few of them. Even among the religious leaders were a goodly number whose only desire was to reform what they considered the ritualistic abuses in the English church of their time and who had not the slightest ambition to suppress the harmless pleasures of life or the ordinary manifestations of human instincts. The New England Puritans, on the other hand, were a select[Pg 15] group of people who were driven across an inhospitable ocean to the barren shores of a strange land by the indomitable zeal of their convictions, the stern intractability of their consciences and the adamantine obstinacy of their independence. They were not Puritans merely in externals; they were Puritans to the core. Their view of life was uncompromisingly serious. The world was not to them a place for dalliance; it was a place for work, for the earnest sowing of seeds that might bring forth a harvest of grace and godliness, a harvest worthy to be garnered by the Master into His eternal storehouse. So, however kindly they may have looked upon music, they could not conscientiously have allowed it to engage much of their attention. They could with consistence postpone the gratification of their musical tastes to the next world, where, for all eternity, the practice of music would be their chief occupation. Besides, the life of the first settlers in New England was not such as to encourage any indulgence in unnecessary relaxation. What with the stubborn barrenness of the soil, the ferocity of the Indians, and the extreme inclemency of the climate, they had little opportunity for the cultivation of those gentler arts toward which by taste and temperament they were not, in any case, very strongly inclined.

And, indeed, from such information as we are able to gather on the subject, it would appear that the practice of music, even in its simplest forms, was practically unknown to the New England Puritans before the end of the seventeenth century, though some of the Leyden colonists, according to Winslow, were 'very expert in music.' Out of the forty-odd psalm tunes in use among the Pilgrims only five were generally known to New England congregations a generation later, and, even of these five, no congregation could ever perform one with any approach to unanimity. 'In the latter part of the seventeenth and the commencement of the eighteenth[Pg 16] centuries,' says Hood, 'the congregations throughout New England were rarely able to sing more than three or four tunes. The knowledge and use of notes, too, had so long been neglected that the few melodies sung became corrupted until no two individuals sang them alike.' The Rev. Thomas Symmes, in an essay published in 1723, tells us that 'in our congregations we us'd frequently to have some people singing a note or two after the next had done. And you commonly strike the notes not together, but one after another, one being half-way thro' the second note, before his neighbor had done with the first. This is just as melodious to a well-tuned musical ear as Æsop was beautiful to a curious eye.' 'It's strange,' he comments further on, 'that people that are so set against stated forms of prayer should be so fond of singing half a dozen tunes, nay one tune from Sabbath to Sabbath; till everybody nauseates it, that has any relish of singing.' In fact, the reverend gentleman confesses that if anything could drive him to Quakerism or Popery it would be the style of singing in vogue among his co-religionists. John Eliot, son of the Indian apostle, in an essay published in 1725, says that 'often at lectures, and especially at ordinations, where people of many congregations met together, their ways of singing are so different that 'tis not easy to know what tune is sung, and in reality there is none. 'Tis rather jumble and confusion. Altho' they all doubtless intend some tune or other, and, it may be, the same, yet they differ almost as much as if, everyone sung a different tune.' The effect must have been delightful. Samuel Sewall, who was precentor of his church for twenty-four years, makes the following plaintive entry in his diary for February 6, 1715: 'This day I set Windsor tune, and the people at the second going over into Oxford, do what I could.' Under date of February 23, 1718, he writes: 'I set York tune, and the congregation went out of it into St.[Pg 17] David's in the very 2nd going over. They did the same three weeks be.' Certainly the vocal efforts of the New England saints must have been excruciating when they moved the Reverend Thomas Walter to declare that the singing of his congregation 'sounded like five hundred different tunes roared out at the same time.' It is almost unbelievable that people of intelligence, as most of the early New Englanders were, should be so utterly callous to ear-splitting discords of that kind, but the testimony of their own pastors puts the matter beyond doubt.

Now much of this extraordinary chaos in the congregational singing of the seventeenth century New England colonists was probably due to the prevailing doubt as to whether singing was, after all, quite proper to the worship of God. Until well into the eighteenth century the propriety of singing psalms in church was a subject of heated controversy. John Cotton published a tract in defense of the custom in 1647 ('Singing of Psalms a Gospel Ordinance'), and, as late as 1723, a number of clergymen published a tract called 'Cases of Conscience about Singing Psalms, briefly considered and resolved,' in which we find the proposition: 'Whether you do believe that singing Psalms, Hymns and Spiritual Songs is an external part of Divine Worship, to be observed in and by the assembly of God's people on the Lord's Days, as well as on other occasional meetings of the Saints, for the worshipping of God....' Those who had taken singing in church as a matter of course, and had made of it such a cacophantic horror as is described by Eliot, Walter, and others, characteristically championed their own style of singing, which they called 'the old way,' and zealously opposed any attempt to sing by rule as a step toward Popery.

But, apart from all differences of opinion upon church singing as such, no people who were in the[Pg 18] habit of practising music, even in the most elementary way, could make such a hopeless mess of ensemble singing in unison, when the tunes were so old and familiar and the number of them so limited. Ensemble singing by a mixed gathering of untrained people is likely to be pretty bad in any case, but even among a heterogeneous and untutored crowd there are always a number whose accuracy of ear and intonation suffices to keep the others more or less close to the melody—especially when it is a familiar one. Among New England colonists, however, the ability to sing must have been about as common as the ability to dance on the tight rope. The Rev. Thomas Symmes assures us that he was present 'in a congregation, when singing was for a whole Sabbath omitted, for want of a man able to lead the assembly in singing.' Certainly the good people of that congregation on the whole must not have counted singing among their diversions—if they had any. We have no ground for stating flatly that the New Englanders of the seventeenth century absolutely abstained from singing on all occasions; but if they did sing it was in a most primitive and haphazard fashion.

Instrumental music certainly was taboo to them. As far as we know there was not a musical instrument in New England before the year 1700. If there was, it has shown remarkable ingenuity in escaping detection. Before leaving this world for a better one, the New England colonist was meticulously careful in making out a full and exact inventory of his material possessions. He told in painful detail just how many pots and pans, bolsters, pillows, tables and chairs he had been blessed with and in just what condition he bequeathed them to posterity. Nothing detachable in the house was too small nor of too little value to escape his conscientious enumeration. But of musical instruments the testamentary literature of New England contains[Pg 19] no mention. The first suggestion we find of the existence of such a thing is a laconic reference in the diary of the Rev. Joseph Green under date of May 29, 1711: 'I was at Mr. Thomas Brattle's, heard ye organs and saw strange things in a microscope.' We have no means of knowing, unfortunately, what were the musical qualities of Mr. Thomas Brattle's 'organs'; perhaps they were as strange as the things the reverend diarist saw in the microscope. Anyhow, as far as we can discover, they were unique in New England. Perhaps they were the same that Mr. Brattle bequeathed to the Brattle Square Church of Boston in 1713. The congregation of the church did not 'think it proper to use the same in the public worship of God,' and the instrument was consequently given to King's Chapel, where it was introduced in the services, to the consternation, anger and disgust of Dr. Cotton Mather and the greater part of the population of New England. This organ is still preserved for the benefit of the curious, and, though its musical possibilities apparently were limited, it at least marked a precedent which, as we shall see in a later chapter, was followed by good results.

It has been mentioned that most of the New England congregations, at the end of the seventeenth century, knew not more than five psalm-tunes. Those, it is assumed, were the psalms called 'Old Hundred,' 'York,' 'Hackney,' 'Windsor,' and 'Martyrs.' The early Pilgrims, presumably, were more eclectic. They used the volume of tunes compiled by the Rev. Henry Ainsworth, of Amsterdam. The version of Sternhold and Hopkins was used in Ipswich and perhaps elsewhere. In 1640 both the Ainsworth and the Sternhold and Hopkins versions were generally superseded by the 'Bay Psalm Book,' though Ainsworth's psalter was retained by the churches of Salem and Plymouth for some time longer. The 'Bay Psalm Book' was compiled by a number of Colonial clergymen, including Rev. Thomas[Pg 20] Weld, Rev. John Eliot, of Roxbury, and Rev. Richard Mather, of Dorchester. It is interesting chiefly as containing some of the quaintest verses ever written. Thus:

and again:

The settings of the tunes in the New England psalm-books were those of Playford and Ravenscroft, but, as we have seen, the congregations habitually introduced original harmonizations of their own. The general method of singing those psalms was known as 'lining out.' That is to say, the minister or deacon first sang each line, to give the key, and the congregation followed his lead—more or less. The results of this system were often ludicrous. For instance, there is the well-known example, cited by Hood, where the deacon declares cryptically:

'The Lord will come and he will not,'

and follows this up with the perplexing injunction:

'Be silent, but speak out.'

Owing to the efforts of John Cotton and other cultured clergymen the people as a whole soon came to accept singing as proper to divine service, but many decades passed before they could be persuaded that the cultivation of the voice or the use of any outward[Pg 21] means to acquire skillfulness in singing was decent or godly. Not to the outward voice, they argued, but to the voice of the heart did God lend ear; and, though their singing was verily as the bellowing of the bulls of Bashan, it mattered not except to the ears of their neighbors, who, in truth, must have been sufficiently calloused to the discord of harsh sounds. This peculiar attitude lasted until well into the eighteenth century. Even as late as 1723 the 'Cases of Conscience,' to which we have referred, contained such questions as:

'Whether you do believe that singing in the worship of God ought to be done skillfully?' and 'whether you do believe that skillfulness in singing may ordinarily be gained in the use of outward means by the blessing of God?' By the efforts of enlightened clergymen like Mather, Symmes, Dwight, Eliot, Walter, and Stoddard the people of New England were finally brought to a realization of the fact that their praise would be just as acceptable to God if offered on the key; but their conversion was a slow and painful process. Two decades of the eighteenth century had passed before they began to pay any attention to the cultivation of church music, and, as we shall see in the next chapter, this awakening interest coincided with the first faint stirrings of a general musical life in the Puritan colonies.

W. D. D.

CHAPTER II
THE BEGINNINGS OF MUSICAL CULTURE IN AMERICA

The whole history of early musical culture in America—obscure enough at best—is additionally obfuscated by the persistent illusion of American historians that the New England psalm-tunes formed the absolute basis of our musical development. This illusion may be part of the widespread impression that the church has been the exclusive fons et origo of musical art. Thus Ritter: 'Musical culture in America, as in the great musical countries of Europe—Italy, France, Germany—took its starting point from the church.'[10] As a consequence of this view of things we find the early chapters of all existing histories of American music strewn with 'psalm-tunes,' 'church choirs,' and 'clergymen,' as thick as autumn leaves in Vallombrosa. All of which would be perfectly desirable if the importance of these factors in our musical development were apparent. Neither in our popular music nor in works of our serious composers can we trace the influence of New England psalmody, though we can trace the influence of German folk-songs and Scotch reels and Irish jigs and negro tunes and the writings of every European composer, from Bach to Brahms.

[Pg 23]

We have no desire to belittle the achievements of New England or the magnitude of its part in the history of the country. But—owing perhaps to the fact that literary production in America was for many generations confined almost exclusively to the New England states—we have had imposed on us a habit of thought which is a sort of historical synecdoche—New England being the figurative whole. Of course, it does not make a particle of difference to American music what we may think or say about its parentage. But, as long as history is to be written, it is well that it shall be written with some attempt at a disinterested attitude, and assumptions that the genesis of our music lay in New England or in any other circumscribed locality are entirely ex parte. Most of our composers have been disciples of some recognized European school or eclectic students of several schools. We can point in them to the influence of Bach or Mozart, of Beethoven or Brahms, of Schubert, Mendelssohn or Grieg, of Wagner, Strauss or Debussy, just as we can point to such influences in the writings of every European composer, great or small. The musical inheritance of the American composer is not American; it is universal. For a variety of reasons we have not yet developed a distinctively national school, but, among our younger composers who are unmistakeably American, where are the traces of Puritan psalmody? The ethical influence of Puritanism is still strong in the land; it still colors our literature, art and public life; it even colors our music. But purely æsthetic influence is quite a different thing. Frankly, we believe that the music of colonial New England has had no more influence on our music of to-day than the writings of Cotton Mather have had on the work of O. Henry.

These prefatory remarks are made simply to emphasize the fact that the following sketch of the beginnings of musical culture in New England and elsewhere[Pg 24] is intended only as a statement of historical facts and not as an argument for the influence of the New England colonies, or of any other colonies, in the development of American music. Little information is obtainable concerning the musical life of America before the end of the eighteenth century, and in these early chapters we are merely trying to arrive at an approximate estimate of what that musical life may have been, leaving philosophical deductions therefrom to those skilled in the drawing of such. If a predominating amount of space is given to the New England colonies it is chiefly because our available information concerning them is very much fuller than that which we possess concerning the rest of the country.

I

We have already seen that up to the end of the seventeenth century there were not, as far as we can discover, even the most elementary attempts at a musical life in New England. The writer of 'Observations Made by the Curious in New England,' published in London in 1673, remarks that there were then in Boston 'no musicians by trade.' It is to be assumed that there were none elsewhere in New England. The installation of Mr. Thomas Brattle's organ in King's Chapel forty years later necessitated the importation of a 'sober person to play skillfully thereon with a loud noise.' This person was a Mr. Price, who appears to have been the first professional musician in New England. He was followed by Mr. Edward Enstone, of England, who came over as organist in 1714. To augment his salary of £30 a year, Mr. Enstone, on Feb. 21, 1714, filed a petition 'for liberty of keeping a school as a Master of Music and a Dancing Master,' but the petition was 'disallowed by ye Sel. men.' In the Boston[Pg 25] 'News Letter' of April 16-23, 1716, the same Mr. Enstone inserted the following explicit advertisement:

"This is to give notice that there is lately sent over from London, a choice Collection of Musickal Instruments, consisting of Flageolets, Flutes, Haut-Boys, Bass-Viols, Violins, Bows, Strings, Reads for Haut-Boys, Books of Instructions for all these Instruments, Books of ruled Paper. To be Sold at the Dancing School of Mr. Enstone in Ludbury Street near to Orange Tree, Boston.

Mr. Enstone was a person of versatility. Apparently he triumphed over 'ye Sel. men,' and, in addition to this gratifying fact, we may infer from his advertisement that musical instruments were used to an extent in Boston prior to 1716. If Mr. Enstone's consignment were the first he would hardly have failed to mention it. He is exhaustively informative. The allusion to the mending of musical instruments also suggests that already they were not uncommon. 'Virginalls and Spinnets' were strung and tuned by Mr. Enstone, though they were not included in his imported collection. We have been unable to discover any information which would throw light on the extent to which musical instruments were used in New England during the first half of the eighteenth century. Even toward the end of the century their use was not very common. But probably they were used to some extent among people of culture as early as the year 1700, and to an increasing extent as time advanced and old prejudices weakened.

Among the people at large the most potent factor in developing a musical life was the formation of singing societies for the cultivation of a proper method of singing psalms. This reformation had long been[Pg 26] advocated by the most enlightened clergymen of the colony. Prominent among them was the Rev. Thomas Symmes, who thus interrogatively argues his cause:

'Would it not greatly tend to promote singing of psalms if singing schools were promoted? Would not this be a conforming to scripture pattern? Have we not as much need of them as God's people of old? Have we any reason to expect to be inspired with the gift of singing, any more than that of reading? Or to attain it without suitable means, any more than they of old, when miracles, inspirations, etc., were common? Where would be the difficulty, or what the disadvantages, if people who want skill in singing would procure a skillful person to instruct them, and went two or three evenings in the week, from five or six o'clock to eight, and spend the time in learning to sing? Would not this be an innocent and profitable recreation, and would it not have a tendency, if prudently managed, to prevent the expense of time on other occasions? Has it not a tendency to divert young people, who are most proper to learn, from learning idle, foolish, yea pernicious songs and ballads, and banish all such trash from their minds? Experience proves this. Would it not be proper for school masters in country parishes to teach their scholars? Are not they very unwise who plead against learning to sing by rule, when they can't learn to sing at all unless they learn by rule? Has not the grand enemy of souls a hand in this who prejudices them against the best means of singing? Will it not be very servisible in ministers to encourage their people to learn to sing? Are they not under some obligation by virtue of their office to do so? Would there not, at least in some places, appear more of that fear of man, which brings a snare, than of true Christian prudence in omitting this? And, as circumstances may allow, would it not[Pg 27] be very useful and profitable if such ministers as are capable would instruct their people in this art?'

The introduction of Satan as the protagonist of unskillful singing is an ingenious and appropriate touch. One might infer from the allusion to idle, foolish and pernicious songs and ballads that the young people of New England were not unlike young people of less godly places and expressed their feelings in ways that might have shocked their proper elders. If they did, it is a pity that some of their songs and ballads have not come down to us, be they never so pernicious. The advice of the Rev. Mr. Symmes, however, appears to have been followed, for we find that about the year 1720 singing societies began to sprout in various parts of New England. At first these were concerned exclusively with church music, but the elementary musical training they afforded was helpful in developing a capacity for the practice and appreciation of other music.

The growth of singing societies naturally created a demand for some sort of musical literature and inspired the publication of many books of psalm-tunes and instructions. This demand was anticipated as early as 1712 by the Rev. John Tufts, pastor of the Second Church in Newbury, who published in that year 'A very Plain and Easy Instruction to the Art of Singing Psalm tunes; with the Cantos or Trebles of twenty-eight Psalm tunes, contrived in such a manner as that the Learner may attain the Skill of Singing them with the greatest ease and speed imaginable.' About two years later he published 'An Introduction to the singing of Psalm Tunes, in a plain and easy method. With a collection of Tunes in Three Parts.' The essence of the 'plain and easy method' seems to have been the substitution of letters for the customary musical notation, together with lessons 'to assist in Raising and Falling of notes either gradual or by leaps, the groundwork[Pg 28] of all good singing, and is not to be obtained ordinarily without help of some Skilful Person, or of an Instrument.' 'But being attained and observing the few foregoing Rules,' the reverend author continues encouragingly, 'you will be able to leap with your voice from one note to another, as they occur in various distances, and with a little practice to sing all tunes in this book, or other prick'd after this method in all their parts, with ease and pleasure.' The tunes and their arrangements were taken by the Rev. Mr. Tufts from Playford's 'Book of Psalms.'

In 1721 the Rev. Thomas Walter, of Roxbury, Mass., published a book comprehensively entitled 'The Grounds and Rules of Musick explained. Or an introduction to the Art of singing by Note: Fitted to the meanest capacity. By Thomas Walter, A.M. Recommended by Several Ministers.' As illustrating the Rev. Mr. Walter's qualifications to explain 'the Grounds and Rules of Musick' we would quote the following delightful and illuminating disquisition: 'There are in Nature but seven distinct sounds, every eighth Note being the same. Thus when a tune is sung by another upon a Key too low for the Compass of my Voice, if I will sing with the Person, it must be all the Way, eighth Notes above him. I naturally sound an Eighth higher. So a Woman naturally strikes eighth notes above the grum and low sounding Voice of a Man, and it makes no more Difference than the singing of two Persons upon an Union or a Pitch. So, on the contrary, when we sing with a Voice too High and shrill for us, we strike very naturally into an Octave or Eighth below. And here let it be observed that the Height of a note and the Strength of singing it are too different Things. Two notes of equal Height may be sounded with different degrees of Strength so as that one shall be heard much further than the other.' This book has the honor of containing the 'first music printed with bars in[Pg 29] America,' Mr. Tufts having omitted in his works the bars marking the measures.[11] The arrangements were taken from Playford.

In 1741 Dr. Watts' 'Psalms' were printed in Boston, and an edition of Watts' 'Hymns' were printed in the same year by Dr. Franklin in Philadelphia. The next important publication was a part of Tansur's collection,[12] which was printed by William Bailey at Newburyport, Mass., in 1755, under the title of 'A Complete Melody in Three Parts.' In 1761 there was published in Philadelphia a large work called 'Urania, or a Choice Collection of Psalm-Tunes, Anthems and Hymns. From the most approv'd Authors with some entirely new: In Two, Three and Four Parts. The Whole peculiarly adapted to the use of Churches, and Private Families. To which are prefix'd the Plainest and most Necessary Rules of Psalmody. By James Lyon, A.B....' Three years later appeared in Boston 'A Collection of the best Psalm Tunes, in two, three and four parts; from the most approved authors, fitted to all measures, and approved by the best masters in Boston, New England; the greater part of them never before printed in America. Engraved by Paul Revere, printed and sold by him and Jos. Flagg.' In his preface Flagg, with admirable patriotism, pointed out that, though most of the tunes in his book came from across the Atlantic, the paper on which they were written was of American manufacture; and he hoped that the fact would recommend his book 'even to those who have no peculiar relish for the music.' We shall have more to say of Flagg in a later chapter. Daniel Bailey, of Newburyport, published in 1764 'A new and complete Introduction to the Grounds and Rules of Music in two [Pg 30]books,' of which the first is taken from Williams and the second from Tansur. In 1769-71 Bailey issued a two-volume work called 'The American Harmony.' The first volume is a reprint of Tansur's 'Royal Melody,' together with 'A new and correct Introduction to the Grounds of Musick, Rudimental, Practical and Technical,' also taken from Tansur. The second volume is a reprint of Aaron Williams' 'New Universal Psalmodist.'[13]

Most of the music in the collections of Lyons, Flagg, and Bailey was the work of contemporary English church-composers. Some of it may have been written by Americans, but there has been identified only the anthem called 'Liverpool,' in Lyon's collection, which is the work of William Tuckey, of New York. This is only pseudo-American, however, as Tuckey was an Englishman. It is merely an imitation of the weak style of verse anthem then popular in England, and the same is true of the other compositions which may be American. Notwithstanding the poor quality of the music, the success of Bailey's collections serves to show the advance which church singing must have made in New England. The florid 'fuguing choruses' and canons, popular among the hymn-writers who followed Purcell in England, were not very noble or inspiring music, but their performance entailed a degree of musical expertness far removed from the cacophantic crudity of which the Rev. Thomas Symmes and his contemporaries so plaintively spoke. At the same time it may be pointed out that these early collections of psalm-tunes are full of errors, due to the lack of persons competent to read proofs of musical works, and, if the leaders of church choirs were not musicians enough to correct such errors in the rendering, either their ears were yet imperfectly trained or they had a [Pg 31]sense of free harmony far in advance of their age. Furthermore, it was very late in the eighteenth century before the reform in church singing became general throughout New England. In the 'History of Worcester' we read of an energetic duel on August 5th, 1779, between the old deacon and the singers, in which the deacon read the psalm according to the 'lining-out' method, while the choir simultaneously sang the verse without pause, according to the new system. Force of numbers and noise finally overpowered the doughty old champion of tradition, who, we are informed, 'retired from the meeting-house in tears.' It was as late as 1785 before the parish of Rowley joined the march of progress, as we find the following entry under that date in the 'History of Rowley': 'The parish desire the singers, both male and female, to sit in the gallery and will allow them to sing once on each Lord's day without reading by the deacon.'

II

We may assume that musical culture made noticeable progress in New England in the second half of the eighteenth century. Among the mass of the people it remained somewhat primitive, but among the cultivated classes in Boston and the larger cities the best contemporary music was heard frequently and with appreciation. As we shall see in a later chapter, public concerts were held in Boston at least as early as 1731, and they seem to have compared favorably with similar functions in European cities. But of musical life in the intimate sense there was still comparatively little. Brissot de Warville writes from Boston in 1788: 'You no longer meet here that Presbyterian austerity which interdicted all pleasure, even that of walking, which forbade travelling on Sunday, which persecuted[Pg 32] men whose opinions were different from their own. The Bostonians unite simplicity of morals with that French politeness and delicacy of manners which render virtue more amiable. They are hospitable to strangers and obliging to friends; they are tender husbands, fond and almost idolatrous parents, and kind masters. Music, which their teachers formerly proscribed as a diabolical art, begins to make part of their education. In some houses you hear the forte-piano. This art, it is true, is still in its infancy; but the young novices who exercise it are so gentle, so complaisant and so modest, that the proud perfection of art gives no pleasure equal to what they afford.'

There were at that time very few pianos in New England and we find from the newspaper advertisements that the teacher usually lent his own piano to his pupils for practice. We have it on the authority of Mr. Elson that the efforts of the pupils were customarily confined to Gyrowetz, or to 'Washington's March,' 'The Battle of Prague,' or the Sonata pour le Clavecin ou Forte-piano, qui représente la bataille de Rossbach. Composée par M. Bach—not the majestic Johann Sebastian, of course. Ritter has copied the following titles from a manuscript book of the late eighteenth century: Ça Ira, 'White Cockade,' 'Irish Howl,' 'French March,' 'Hessian Camp,' 'Duchess of Brunswick,' 'Duetto' by Mancinelli, 'Water Rice,' 'Nancy of the Mill,' 'O Bessy Bell,' 'German Spaw,' 'Ossian's Ghost,' 'Duke of York's March,' 'Duetto,' by Dr. Arne, 'Every Inch a Soldier,' 'Quick March of the Twenty-sixth Regiment,' 'March,' 'Poor Soldier,' 'Sound Alarm,' 'When Nichola first to court began,' 'Sweet Village of the Valley,' 'Minuetto,' 'Dead March in Saul,' 'Bright Phœbus,' 'Ode to Harmony,' 'Swedish Air,' 'Quick March,' 'King of Sweden's March,' Marche des Marseillais, 'Hessian Air,' 'Baron Steuben's March,' 'Prince Frederick's March,' 'Sonata[Pg 33] from Minuetto in Samson,' 'March in Joseph,' 'Trio' by Humphrey.

It may be of interest to note some of the secular music published in New England at that time. We find the following advertisement in the 'Columbian Centinel' of Boston in 1798. 'Just published, price one dollar, neatly bound and lettered, sold by E. Larkin, No. 47, Cornhill, "The Columbian Songster and Free Mason's Pocket Companion." A Collection of the newest and most celebrated Sentimental, Convivial, Humorous, Satirical, Pastoral, Hunting, Sea and Masonic Songs, being the largest and best collection ever published in America. Selected by S. Larkin.' In the same year there appeared in Northampton, Mass., 'The American Miscellany.' From the foreword of the ingenuous editor we learn that in this work 'a general preference has been given to American productions, and perhaps nothing will more effectually exhibit the progress of the human mind in the refinements which characterize the age, than the songs which, from general consent, are now in vogue.' The exhibit is not very complimentary to the 'progress of the human mind.' Most of the songs contained in these collections are flatly commonplace, many of them are cheap and tawdry in the extreme. It would hardly be fair to look upon such publications as reflecting the musical taste of the cultured class in New England. Just what proportion that class bore to the total population we cannot say. We can safely assume, however, that the concerts given in Boston and elsewhere during the second half of the eighteenth century fairly indicate the taste of the musical elect in New England. The citation of a few programs in this place will, consequently, not prove amiss.

A concert in honor of President Washington's visit to Boston, given on the 27th October, 1789, is advertised as follows:

[Pg 34]

In Salem on the 15th May, 1798, was given the following concert:

[Pg 35]

Audiences in those days must have had Gargantuan musical appetites. Mr. Mallet, a French musician resident in Boston, gave a concert there on the 19th May, 1801, which included two overtures, four concertos (for clarinet, violin, bass and oboe, respectively), six solo vocal pieces and one duet!

[Pg 36]

III

No doubt these concerts show that the musical taste even of cultured New England was somewhat indiscriminate. But the tendency to serve strangely mixed programs was not confined to America. We find, too, that concerts were very frequently a medium for the exploitation of compositions by the concert givers or their friends. This custom was not confined to America either, nor was it confined to the eighteenth century. On the whole, and considering all the circumstances, the concert life of New England speaks well for the musical culture of its people. The same may be said of concert-life elsewhere in America. Unfortunately our information concerning general musical culture in other parts of the country is extremely scanty, but we may assume that the inhabitants of the Middle and Southern colonies enjoyed a fuller musical life than was possible in New England, where it was retarded by conditions that were not operative elsewhere. In Pennsylvania, it is true, Quakerism must have exercised a repressive influence, though, from the evidence at our disposal, we find that Philadelphia at the end of the eighteenth century was more advanced musically than any other city in America. Practically our only sources of information concerning early musical life in New York, Philadelphia and the South are the records of operatic and concert performances, and, while we shall speak of those activities more fully in later chapters, we may be pardoned for referring briefly to them here.[15]

In New York English opera was heard perhaps as early as the year 1702, but performances did not become[Pg 37] common until about 1750. After the production of the 'Beggar's Opera' in the latter year 'all the most popular ballad-operas,' to quote Ritter,[16] 'successively appeared on the New York stage. Besides these most of the musical farces, melodramas, pantomimes, which proved successful in London, were also produced in New York.' Concerts became increasingly common in the second half of the century and some of the programs were remarkably interesting. By way of illustration we quote the following program of a concert given on the 9th February, 1770, for the benefit of Mr. Stotherd:

In January, 1770, a large part of Handel's 'Messiah' was given in New York for the benefit of William Tuckey, with the assistance of 'a considerable number of ladies and gentlemen.' The program of a concert given by gentlemen of the army and navy in April, 1782, reads:

[Pg 38]

Of course, all the concerts given in New York were not on an equally high plane. Many of them were frankly popular and many mixed judiciously the popular with the serious. A large proportion of these were given at Vauxhall, Ranelagh, Columbia and other public gardens where it was necessary to cater to the taste of an assorted assemblage. On the whole, however, the musical taste of the New York public was remarkably good. Haydn seems to have been the favorite composer of the time and after him we notice most frequently the names of Pleyel, Handel, Corelli, Gossec, Stamitz, Gyrowetz, and Bach.[18]

The musical life of Philadelphia during the second half of the eighteenth century was apparently richer than in any other American city. There are no records of public concerts there before the year 1757, but after [Pg 39]that date they became so suddenly common and maintained such a relatively high standard that the musical soil in which they grew must have been extremely fertile—notwithstanding the Quakers. Indeed, the musical taste of the Philadelphians seems to have been at once more eclectic and more discriminating than that of the citizens of Boston and New York. Besides Haydn, Pleyel, Handel, and the rest we find in their programs the names of Grétry, Boccherini, Viotti, Kreutzer, Paesiello, Sacchini, Cimarosa, Piccini, Gluck, and Mozart.[19] The programs were much less mixed than was customary in Boston and New York. We find fewer comic numbers and fewer songs to Mars and Bacchus, to larks and pining hearts and sighing breezes. And quite as much consideration was shown to the native American composer as is shown by the concert-givers of to-day. Consider the following program of the first Uranian Concert, given at the Reformed Church, in Race Street, on the 12th April, 1787:

[Pg 40]

We may mention here the extraordinary Grand Concert given at the Reformed Church in Race Street on May 4, 1786, with a chorus of two hundred and twenty and an orchestra of fifty. Of course, such concerts were unusual in Philadelphia. Choruses of two hundred and twenty and orchestras of fifty were not then common, even in European capitals. But, as Mr. Sonneck has observed, such undertakings were not possible 'without a logical evolution of conditions,' and this concert throws a very favorable light on musical conditions in Philadelphia. Incidentally, we learn that nearly one thousand tickets were sold for the event, a remarkable showing for a city of about 40,000 people.

There was a very active musical life in the South during the eighteenth century, and it was much more diffused than in the Middle or New England colonies. A peculiar feature of the public concerts in the South was the frequency with which amateurs appeared as performers. We find the vocal part in one concert was taken by 'a gentleman who does it merely to oblige on this occasion.' In the advertisement of another we read that 'the gentlemen who are the best Performers, both in Town and Country, are so obliging as to assist ... on this Occasion.' Again we notice the announcement of a 'Concert of Vocal and Instrumental Musick to be performed by Gentlemen of the place, for the entertainment of all lovers of Harmony.' Such announcements were common. Of course, amateurs sometimes took part in concerts in the North, especially before the Revolution. As a rule, they were gentlemen of the king's army and navy, among whom the practice of music seems to have been sedulously cultivated. But it would appear that the proportion of practical amateur musicians was much greater in the South than elsewhere in America, and that fact alone speaks volumes for the culture of the Old Dominion.

Charleston was beyond doubt the leading Southern[Pg 41] city in musical matters. We know definitely that public concerts were given there as early as 1732, and it is quite probable that they were given earlier. In 1762 was formed the St. Cæcilia Society,[20] an organization devoted to the cultivation of the best in music. It was the first musical society formed in America. The following program, given on the 6th March, 1794, under its patronage, will illustrate the taste of the people of Charleston:

It is noteworthy to find a symphony of Mozart on a program of March 9, 1797.

It would appear that the citizens of Baltimore were not quite so refined in their musical taste as their neighbors in Carolina. Nevertheless they enjoyed an active musical life. Concerts of fair quality were common enough, and we read also of such interesting things as [Pg 42]the production in English of Pergolesi's Serva Padrona in 1790.[21]

In Williamsburg, Fredericksburg, Richmond, Petersburg, Norfolk, Alexandria and elsewhere in Virginia there were public concerts given at an early period. Unfortunately there has not yet been unearthed much documentary evidence which would throw light on the early musical life of these cities. But from what we know of Charleston and Baltimore and from our general knowledge of conditions among the Southern colonists we should be inclined to say that the Virginia cities possessed a musical life quite creditable in proportion to their size. The same is true of Savannah and New Orleans. It must not be forgotten that, with the exceptions of Charleston and Baltimore, no Southern city had a population of more than ten thousand people. Most of them had very considerably less. Obviously it would be unfair to expect that they enjoyed metropolitan conditions.

IV

Enough, perhaps, has been said to show that the American colonists were not the musical barbarians they are so frequently and complacently pictured. Of course, European writers visiting the colonies almost invariably took occasion to incorporate in their literary works slighting references to the state of culture in America. The custom still obtains among literary visitors to these shores. Since the time of Columbus, apparently, it has been an unwritten law that European travellers must speak slightingly of American culture, just as American travellers must make uncomplimentary remarks about European hotel accommodations and transportation systems. Such comments are [Pg 43]usually the result of a congenital incapacity to see more than one thing at one time. As a rule they are accurate, but they do not mean what they seem to mean. They are sentences detached from their context. A statement that there is no first-class symphony orchestra in New York would have a very different significance from a statement that there is no first-class symphony orchestra in Oskaloosa—though both sound alike to one who knows nothing about either New York or Oskaloosa. Equally ridiculous are the well-meant attempts to demonstrate the growth of our artistic stature by drawing parallels between the musical activity of the colonies and the musical activities of America to-day. In 1750 the population of Boston, New York, Philadelphia, Baltimore, Richmond, and Charleston combined was less than one hundred thousand, and even as late as 1800 it was little over two hundred thousand. If we are to be fair to the American colonists, we must take into consideration the conditions under which they lived, the youth of the country, its comparative isolation from the old-established centres of culture, the many and complex circumstances that operated to retard its æsthetic development. And if we take these things into consideration, we cannot fairly persevere in our supercilious attitude toward the musical life of eighteenth-century America.

There is another side to the picture, however. In spite of the undeniable growth of musical culture among the American people of the eighteenth century, it cannot be said that music had a really intimate meaning for them, that they had woven it into the web of their lives, that they had found in it a necessary form of expression. Art is created that way. It may be the folk-song of an ignorant peasant or the symphony of a Mozart or Beethoven. But always it is born of a need for personal expression. Music was not personal to the American colonists; it was still an exotic, a pleasure[Pg 44] supplied from outside sources, a diversion which serious men might occasionally enjoy but to which they could not afford to devote serious attention. Even among a certain class of Americans of the present day this attitude persists to some degree. Music is not yet generally regarded as a profession for men. Men go into business; they become brokers, lawyers, or politicians; they even become newspaper reporters—but not musicians. Music is still par excellence the avocation of long-haired, libidinous foreigners. We may, perhaps, without injustice trace this attitude to Puritan New England. The aristocracy of the South had the aristocratic point of view. Most Southern gentlemen were practical musicians. They were not, of course, professional musicians—gentlemen did not adopt professions, except that of arms. But music had a certain personal meaning for them. It was a graceful and elegant medium for the expression of their gallant, romantic and courtly sentiments. They could sing of arms and the red glow of wine and the red lips of women—all frankly important things in their lives, all supposedly unimportant things in the lives of the upright New Englanders. But, as a vehicle for the expression of profound and fundamental emotions, music had no meaning to them.

The aristocratic Southern point of view, however, did not impress itself on the mass of the American people; the New England point of view did. The psychological effect of New England on the rest of the country has been extraordinary. Certainly the New Englanders were fond of music; they encouraged it; they had considerable taste; they were glad to have their daughters take music lessons—music was a thoroughly ladylike accomplishment. When Priscilla spilled the 'Battle of Prague' con brio over the 'forte piano' her performance brought undiluted joy to the parental heart. When Fil Trajetto played a concerto[Pg 45] of Corelli the more cultivated Bostonian could justly appreciate the virtues of the composition and its performance. The people of New England had relatively as much taste and culture as the same class of people elsewhere. Nevertheless they did not feel music as a serious and necessary thing.

V

Such an attitude was most unfavorable to the growth of a native art. During the eighteenth century there were few native American musicians by profession. In the South the professional musicians were chiefly French, in the North chiefly English. As a consequence there were few American composers. Of course, many Americans manufactured music. Every civilized man at some period of his life has composed a tune or a poem or a play. It is as inevitable as the measles. The American colonists did not escape the infection. Many American compositions lie unidentified in the early collections of hymns and anthems; many more undoubtedly were denied even such an anonymous burial. We have already alluded to William Tuckey, whose anthem was included in the collection of James Lyon. Tuckey was organist of Trinity Church, New York. He has sometimes been called the first American composer, and he would be did he not happen to be born in Somersetshire, England. Many of Tuckey's contemporaries, such as Flagg, and undoubtedly others whose names have been forgotten, composed church music in the style of the period—the weak, insipid, undistinguished style of Tansur and Williams. We can easily afford to forget their efforts.

There are, however, a few American composers of this period whom we cannot afford to forget It is really impossible to say who was the first American[Pg 46] composer, but the right to the title seems to be divided between Francis Hopkinson and James Lyon, natives of Philadelphia and Newark, N. J., respectively. Certainly they were the first of any importance. Hopkinson, a lawyer, poet, musician, inventor, painter, and signer of the Declaration of Independence, was one of the most remarkable men of his time. He was born in 1737, was graduated at the College of Philadelphia, received the degrees of Master of Arts and Doctor of Laws from that institution and the degree of Master of Arts, gratiæ causa, from the College of New Jersey. After his admission to the bar he held a number of public offices, became a delegate to the first Continental Congress and was appointed by that body to 'execute the business of the Navy under their direction.' He presided over the Admiralty Court of Pennsylvania from 1779 until its jurisdiction became vested in the United States and took an important part in the debates of the convention which framed the Constitution. We know little of his musical education, but the most important part of it seems to have been guided by James Bremner, while his taste was undoubtedly polished by subsequent visits to Europe. He was an able harpsichordist, we learn, and often deputized for Brenner as organist of Christ Church. In spite of his official duties he found time to promote musical education, to give concerts and to participate in frequent musicales at the home of Governor John Penn. His inventive turn found expression in an improved method of quilling a harpsichord, the application of a keyboard to the harmonica and a 'contrivance for the perfect measurement of time,' known as the Bell-harmonic.

The most important thing about Francis Hopkinson from our point of view, however, is that his song 'My Days Have Been so Wondrous Free,' dated 1759, is, as far as we know, the earliest secular American composition extant. It is included in a collection of songs[Pg 47] made by Hopkinson which contains also several other specimens of his muse. They are pretty, simple, graceful, and somewhat amateurish. Among them is an anthem with figured bass—a rarity in early American music. Possibly Hopkinson was editor and part author of the 'Collection of Psalm Tunes with a few Anthems and Hymns' published in 1763 for the use of Christ and St. Peter's churches. He has been credited with the authorship of one of the numerous 'Washington's Marches,' though which of them he wrote—if he wrote any—his sole and painstaking biographer[22] has been unable to discover. Mr. Sonneck, however, has succeeded in proving that he composed 'The Temple of Minerva, a Musical Entertainment performed in Nov., 1781, by a Band of Gentlemen and Ladies at the hotel of the Minister of France in Philadelphia.' The music of this piece, unfortunately, is not extant. A collection of eight songs by Hopkinson, with accompaniments for harpsichord or pianoforte, was published in Philadelphia in 1788. Speaking of these Mr. Sonneck says: 'As a composer Francis Hopkinson did not improve greatly during the twenty years which separate this song collection from his earliest efforts. His harmony is still faulty at times, and he possesses not an original musical profile. To claim the adjective of beautiful or important for these songs or his other compositions would mean to confuse the standpoint of the musical critic with that of the antiquarian. But even the critic who cares not to explain and pardon shortcomings from a historical point of view will admit that Hopkinson's songs are not without grace and that our first poet-composer obeyed the laws of musical declamation more carefully than a host of fashionable masters of that period. Artistically, of course, he resembles his contemporaries. His musical world, like theirs, was an [Pg 48]untrue Arcadia, populated with over-sentimental shepherds and shepherdesses, or with jolly tars, veritable models of sobriety and good behavior, even when filling huge bumpers for drinking-bouts. Then again we notice in Francis Hopkinson's music the studied simplicity of that age for which treble and bass had become the pillars of the universe. This and much more is antiquated to-day. But why should we criticize at all our first "musical compositions?" It becomes us better to look upon these primitive efforts as upon venerable documents of the innate love of the American people for the beauties of music and as documents of the fact that among the signers of the Declaration of Independence there was at least one who proved to be a "successful Patron of Arts and Sciences."'

It is a peculiar coincidence that in 1759, the same year in which Hopkinson's first songs were written, an ode, set to music by James Lyon, a student at Nassau Hall, was performed at the college commencement. This, perhaps the earliest of American commencement-odes, is unfortunately not extant. Lyon was graduated from Princeton in 1759 and took up his residence in Philadelphia. There he seems to have founded or taught in a singing school where one of his anthems was performed in 1761—'an elegant anthem,' according to the 'Pennsylvania Gazette.' In 1762 he received the degree of M.A. from Princeton and perhaps wrote the music for an entertainment entitled 'The Military Glory of Great Britain' which was performed at the commencement. Subsequently he was ordained a minister in the Presbyterian church and preached the gospel in Nova Scotia, Maine, and elsewhere until his death in 1794.

We have already adverted to Lyon's 'Urania, or a choice Collection of Psalm-Tunes, Anthems and Hymns from the most approved Authors, with some entirely new.' This collection exercised an important influence[Pg 49] on subsequent early American psalmodists.[23] The six tunes marked as new were composed by Lyon. These, together with settings of the 17th and 19th psalms, a setting of one of Watts' lyric poems, 'Friendship,' and a 'Marriage Hymn,' are all the known works of Lyon still extant. 'Their study,' says Mr. Sonneck, 'will induce no critic to call Lyon a composer of real merit or even a musician fully conversant with musical grammar. His music, viewed from an æsthetic standpoint, is in no way remarkable. He certainly gave his best in the Hymn to Friendship, the minor movement of which contains a few unexpected rays of beauty. This movement, and the fact that Lyon energetically occupied himself with music, when music was in its infancy in colonial America, prove that he possessed some inborn musical talent. For nobody will compose in a musical wilderness, no matter how valueless the compositions may be, if not forced to do so by latent creative powers. Had Lyon been educated in England, Germany, or Italy his talents would have developed to greater advantage, and his name might figure in musical dictionaries, these mausoleums of celebrity, none of which to-day mentions him. But his importance lies not in the sphere of æsthetics; it lies rather in the sphere of retrospective history. Not the absolute, but the relative merits of his music attract our attention. He was a pioneer and thereupon rests his lasting glory.'

In 1746 was born in Boston a man who bore the undistinguished name of William Billings. Billings was a tanner by profession and a musician by instinct. It is unfortunate that this pioneer American composer should have become the butt of so much ridicule; yet one must admit that he invited ridicule. There was something ludicrous even in his personal appearance.

[Pg 50]

'He was somewhat deformed,' says Ritter, 'blind of one eye, one leg shorter than the other, one arm somewhat withered, and he was given to the habit of continually taking snuff. He carried this precious article in his coat pocket made of leather, and every few minutes would take a pinch, holding the snuff between the thumb and clinched hand. To this feature we must add his stentorian voice, made, no doubt, rough as a saw by the effects of the quantity of snuff that was continually rasping his throat.'[24] His zeal continually outran his discretion. Even in church his voice drowned those of his neighbors. He was of the temperament that cannot approve without giving three cheers. The very titles of his works provoke a smile. For instance:

'The New England Psalm Singer: or American Chorister
Containing a number of Psalm-tunes, Anthems and Canons.

In four or five parts. (Never Before Published.)

Composed by William Billings, a native of Boston, in
New England.

Matt. 12. 16. "Out of the Mouths of Babes and Sucklings hast
thou Perfected Praise."

James 5. 13. "Is any Merry? Let him sing Psalms."

Boston: New England, Printed by Edes and Gill.'

Nevertheless Hillings was an original genius with an unaffected, fervent and sincere love of his art. His very naïveté is refreshing in an age which artistic artificiality had rendered almost sterile. Of musical knowledge he possessed very little. What knowledge he had he picked up himself from such limited sources as were at his disposal. In the preface to his 'New England Psalm-Singer' he confesses ingenuously: 'For my own [Pg 51]part, as I don't think myself confined to any Rules for Composition laid down by any that went before me, neither should I think (were I to pretend to lay down rules) that any who comes after me were anyways obligated to adhere to them any further than they should think proper: so in fact I think it is proper for every composer to be his own learner. Therefore, upon this consideration, for me to dictate or to prescribe Rules of the Nature for others, would not only be very unnecessary but also a very great Vanity.' Later he frankly confessed the immaturity that dictated those statements. He set himself more humbly to the study of rules for composition and developed an enthusiasm for counterpoint, of which he speaks in the following terms: 'It has more than twenty times the power of the old slow tunes; each foot straining for mastery and victory, the audience entertained and delighted, their minds surpassingly fluctuated, sometimes declaring for one part and sometimes for another. Now the solemn bass demands their attention—next the manly tenor—now, the lofty counter—now, the volatile treble. Now here—now there, now here again. O, ecstatic! Rush on, you sons of Harmony!' Even the tremendous earnestness of the man does not save this from being funny. It is poor Billings' fate to be funny under nearly all circumstances.

The 'New England Psalm-Singer' appeared in 1770. It may be recalled that Beethoven was born in the same year. Eight years later Billings published 'The Singing Master's Assistant,' a revision of his first work, which attained wide popularity in New England and was known as 'Billings' Best.' Following came 'Music in Miniature,' 1779; 'The Psalm-Singer's Amusement,' 1781; 'The Suffolk Harmony,' 1786; and 'The Continental Harmony,' 1794. Besides these Billings published singly a number of anthems and other compositions. All of his works show a most primitive conception of[Pg 52] the art of composition and a very hazy knowledge of the rules of harmony and counterpoint. But they contain melodic and rhythmic force and originality. Billings could not write a good fugue, but he could write a good tune. Many of his compositions became very popular in New England. Although he had invited Britain and the Colonies to join 'unanimously' when he published his first collection, he was one of the most fiery of patriots when the Revolution broke out. Nothing could surpass the fierce ardor of his zeal. He expressed in dynamic terms his love of country and contempt for his enemies, and he called down all the wrath of an omnipotent deity on his unworthy head if he should ever prove untrue to Boston—meaning America. What were written originally as psalm-tunes he had no difficulty in turning into ringing patriotic songs. Many of them were sung by the New England soldiers throughout the war, and the tune known as 'Chester' was a favorite with the Continental fifers.

Billings is said to have introduced the use of the 'pitch-pipe' into New England choirs—where it was badly needed—and he is supposed to have been the first in New England to use the violoncello in church. According to Ritter, 'he is credited with the merit of having originated concerts or musical exhibitions in New England'; but concerts or musical exhibitions were originated there before he was born. Billings' merit is that he was the first musician of really independent and original talent that America produced. He was handicapped by lack of technical knowledge and lack of a suitable milieu. He wrote some good tunes which passed into the musical life of the people. He is a noteworthy figure, but his importance is not overwhelming.

Among Billings' contemporaries may be mentioned Oliver Holden, Andrew Law, Jacob Kimball, Jr., Samuel Holyoke, Samuel Read, and Lowell Mason. None of[Pg 53] these possessed much more musical knowledge than Billings and all of them, with one exception, possessed much less talent. Holden is known chiefly for his 'Coronation' hymn, which is still popular. He published 'The American Harmony' in 1792. Law was the author of a collection of anthems and hymns, besides some compilations on musical theory. His taste was better than the average of his time, but his information and creative capacity were limited. One of his hymns, 'Archdale,' acquired wide popularity. There is nothing particular to say about Kimball, Holyoke or Read. They were of about the same stamp as Holden and Law—mediocre writers of uninspired and conventional psalm-tunes.

Lowell Mason stands out above the rest as a musician in the truer sense of the word. The earnest valor with which he combated the condition prevalent in the New England churches, flooded with 'fugue tunes' in imitation of the imported variety but devoid of any musical value, must be recognized. He was a pioneer in the work of substituting for this worthless stuff tunes at once simple and noble, in accordance with the principles of harmony, and symmetrical in form. Mason was born in 1792, at Medfield, Mass., and died in 1872 at Orange, N. J. He went to Savannah, Ga., and divided his time between banking and musical study under F. L. Abell. In 1822 he returned to Boston and published the 'Boston Handel-Haydn Society's Collection of Church Music,' containing a number of his own compositions. The most familiar of his tunes are probably 'Corinth' ('I love to steal a while away'), 'Cowper' ('There is a fountain filled with blood'), 'Bethany' ('Nearer, my God, to Thee'), 'The Missionary Hymn' ('From Greenland's Icy Mountains'), and 'Mount Vernon' ('Sister thou wert mild and lovely'). After 1827 Dr. Mason (the degree of Mus.D. was conferred on him by New York University) took charge of the music in[Pg 54] no less than three churches, but subsequently confined his labors to Dr. Lyman Beecher's Bowdoin Street Church, whither pilgrimages were soon made from all over the country 'to hear the wonderful singing.' His training of boys' voices particularly was a marvel to his generation. Mason's educational work is indeed of uncommon importance and will be touched upon in a later chapter. With Professors Park and Phelps he edited the 'Sabbath Hymn Book' (1858) and in 1830 he issued the 'Juvenile Lyrics,' said to be the earliest collection of songs for secular schools published in America.

Except for the rugged originality of the ludicrous Billings, the opening of the nineteenth century had still disclosed nothing of American composition that might be considered other than commonplace. But at least the pioneer work had been done with commendable earnestness and under very real handicaps. The actual achievements of pioneers are never very great, but the value of their work is incalculable. To the pioneers of American composition we can at least tender our respect for the undoubted sincerity of their efforts.

W. D. D.

CHAPTER III
EARLY CONCERT LIFE

In our last chapter we spoke to some extent of concert life in America during the eighteenth century, and it may be well to complete the record here as far as the information at our disposal will allow. The importance of concerts as reflecting the musical culture of a people can very easily be overestimated. At best, they represent the taste of merely a small portion of the community; at worst they serve simply as occasions for social display and for the indulgence of various forms of snobbery. It is very difficult at a distance to judge a true from a false artistic life. For aught we know to the contrary, the concerts of the American colonists represented chiefly their ideas of what was socially correct. On the other hand, we are equally justified in assuming that these concerts reflected accurately the musical taste of the people. The truth is that we must accept the record of early concert life in America purely for its historic interest. Such deductions as we may draw from it must always be presumptive. On the surface, as we have already said, it speaks well for the state of musical culture in America of the eighteenth century. It would be futile—perhaps disappointing—to pry further into its possible significance.

A certain characteristic indifference to the importance[Pg 56] of historical remains has lost to us irretrievably much documentary evidence that would be of great value in compiling a complete history of music in America. Of our earliest newspapers, such as the 'Boston News Letter,' the 'New York Gazette,' the 'American Weekly Mercury,' and the 'South Carolina Gazette,' no complete files seem to have been preserved, and there is an irritating poverty of other documents that would supplement the information contained therein or fill out such lacunæ as the lost numbers may have left. For our information on early concerts in America we are almost totally dependent on old newspaper files. Even if these files were complete it would not follow by any means that the information obtainable from them would be exhaustive, for it is not probable that the newspapers mentioned all the concerts given. A few diaries and similar documents have been discovered which throw a little added light on the subject, but there still remain many dark corners.[25]

I

We cannot say when or where the first public concert was given in America. The first of which we have any record was advertised in the Boston 'Weekly News Letter' of December 16-23, 1731. It was 'a Concert of Music on sundry Instruments at Mr. Pelham's great Room, being the house of the late Doctor Noyes near the Sun Tavern.' Further than that we know nothing about it. We find notices of other concerts at intervals for several years, but nothing is said about the music played or the people who took part in them. In 1744 a concert was given at the historic Faneuil Hall, which [Pg 57]had been built two years earlier and which was apparently the favorite place for such functions until about the year 1755, when it was supplanted by the newly erected Concert Hall in Queen Street.[26]

Most of the concerts at Faneuil Hall were given for the benefit of the poor and were held, it would appear, only by express permission of the selectmen. In 1755 we first notice concerts given for the benefit of private individuals and presumably without the permission of the selectmen. One was given for John Rice, organist of Trinity Church, and several for Thomas Dipper, organist of King's Chapel. We know nothing about these concerts except that they consisted of 'select pieces by the best masters.' It is possible that there existed from about the year 1744 a musical organization of which a Mr. Stephen Deblois was treasurer and which gave frequent concerts. The minutes of the Boston selectmen meetings, as reprinted in the 'Boston Town Records,' contain an entry under date of Nov. 21, 1744, to the effect that 'Mr. William Sheafe and a number of gentlemen desire the Use of Faneuil Hall for a Concert of Musick ... the Benefit arising by the Tickets to be for the Use of the Poor of the Town....' On Dec. 12, it was reported that 'the Selectmen received of Mr. Stephen Deblois two hundred and five pounds five shillings old Tenor being collected by a Concert of Musick in Faneuil Hall for the Use of the Poor of the Town'—obviously the same concert for which permission was granted to 'Mr. William Sheafe and a number of gentlemen.' In September, 1754, Stephen Deblois purchased Concert Hall for two thousand pounds, with the result that concerts immediately shifted there from Faneuil Hall. Thomas Dipper, for whom so many benefits were given, apparently had a hand in the organization,[Pg 58] if there was one. We find an announcement in January, 1761, that 'Mr. Dipper's Public Concert will begin on Tuesday the 20th instant.' This suggests that there may have been also a series of private concerts for subscribers, as the term 'public' concert was very unusual in Colonial times. We read in the Boston 'News Letter' of April 29, 1762: 'The members of the Concert, usually performed at Concert Hall, are hereby notified that the same is deferred to the end of the Summer months. And it is desired that in the meantime each member would settle his respective arrearage with Stephen Deblois, with whom the several accounts are lodged for that purpose.' We are, in fact, confronted with suggestions of a musical organization which held a series of concerts for members and another for non-members. Whether such an organization existed or not, it is at least certain that Boston enjoyed the luxury of subscription concerts as early as 1761.

The 'Massachusetts Gazette' of October 2, 1766, advertised a series of concerts to begin on October 7, and 'to be continued every Tuesday evening for eight months.' The concerts were to be held at Concert Hall and intending subscribers were referred to Stephen Deblois. Beginning with the year 1770, several series were given by William Turner, Thomas Hartley, and David Propert, the latter promising in his announcement selections 'out of Mr. Handel's oratorios' besides 'select pieces upon the harpsichord with accompaniment compos'd by the most celebrated masters of Italy and London.' W. S. Morgan also gave some concerts immediately before the war. It had not yet become customary to announce the programs in detail and we are consequently in the dark as to the nature of most of them. Some of the concerts apparently were merely operas in concert form. An announcement of June 20, 1770, speaks of a vocal entertainment of three acts.[Pg 59] 'The songs (which are numerous) are taken from a new celebrated opera, call'd "Lionel and Clarissa."' In the diary of John Rowe there is the following entry under date of March 23, 1770: 'In the evening I went to the Concert Hall to hear Mr. Joan read the Beggar's Opera and sing the songs....'

We find, however, a very fine program announced for May 17, 1771, by Josiah Flagg—the same of whom we have already spoken as a prominent compiler of psalm-tunes. Flagg was for many years a most conspicuous figure in the musical life of Boston. Besides publishing two good collections of psalm-tunes, he founded and trained a militia band and was active in promoting concerts of remarkably high quality. As he was the first to publish programs we cannot well compare his musical taste with that of his contemporaries, but it is doubtful if the average concert of the time rose to the level of the following:

The other concerts given by Flagg were of about the same standard. He seems to have disappeared from Boston about the year 1773. His most important successor in the promotion of music in Boston was William Selby, an Englishman, who came over as organist of King's Chapel, Boston, in 1772, or perhaps earlier.[Pg 60] Selby threw himself into the musical life of his adopted country with an enthusiasm for the cause which seems always to have been exclusively confined to foreigners. He played and taught the harpsichord and organ, composed prolifically, promoted concerts of fine quality, and was the leading spirit in the Musical Society which did much for music in Boston between 1785 and 1790. His devotion to choral music was especially noteworthy and he promoted some choral concerts of an artistic quality far beyond anything yet heard in America. We find announced for April 23, 1782, a concert under his direction, to consist of 'Musica Spiritualis, or Sacred Music, being a collection of Airs, Duetts, and Choruses, selected from the oritories [?] of Mr. Stanly, Mr. Smith and the late celebrated Mr. Handel; together with a favorite Dirge, set to music by Thomas Augustus Arne, Doctor in Music. Also, a Concert on the Organ, by Mr. Selby.' In the 'Massachusetts Gazette' of January 2, 1786, there is announced a remarkable concert to be given by the Musical Society on January 10. Besides prayers, psalms, and the Doxology, 'as set to musick by Mr. Selby,' the program consisted of the overture to Handel's 'Occasional Oratorio'; the recitative 'Comfort ye my people,' from the 'Messiah,' and the aria, 'Every valley shall be exalted,' from the same work; the fourth Concerto of Amizon, musica da capella, op. 7; 'Let the bright Cherubims,' from 'Samson,' and 'The trumpet shall sound,' from the 'Messiah'; the second organ concerto of Handel; 'a Solo, Piano, on the organ,' by Mr. Selby; and 'a favourite overture by Mr. Bach,' performed by 'the musical band.' A similar program was repeated on January 16, 1787, at a 'Spiritual Concert for the benefit of those who have known better Days.' The 'Hallelujah Chorus' from the 'Messiah' was included in the latter program, as was also Piccini's overture to La buona figliuola, a solo from the oratorio[Pg 61] 'Jonah,' composed by Felsted, and a 'favourite overture' of Carlo Ditters,[27] played by 'the musical band.'

The Musical Society gave many concerts up to the year 1790—mostly in subscription series and always, it would seem, under the leadership of Selby. Apparently there were other musical societies in Boston as early as the year 1787, for the 'Massachusetts Centinel' on September 22 of that year announced a 'concert of Sacred Musick to assist in rebuilding the Meeting House in Hollis Street, agreeably to the generous intentions of the Musical Societies in this town.' The name of William Billings appears twice on the program of this concert. We have already mentioned the concert in honor of Washington's visit to Boston at which Felsted's oratorio, 'Jonah,' was given in its entirety—the first time that a complete oratorio had been given in Boston.[28]

The last mention of Selby's name in connection with a concert was in 1793 when the following program was given for his benefit and that of Jacobus Pick:

[Pg 62]

This program is important as marking a sharp transition in the style of Boston concerts. Due partly to the influx of theatrical companies, following the lifting of the ban on dramatic productions, and partly to the sudden increase in the number of French musicians, concerts in Boston after the year 1790 entirely lost their old dignified and solid demeanor and acquired a strange new lightness, a transatlantic frivolity, a cosmopolitan air, a flavor of complete worldliness. The 'late celebrated Mr. Handel' disappears entirely from the concert programs of a city to which he had for long been the musical mainstay, and in his stead enter Pleyel, Grétry, Gluck, and 'the celebrated Haydn.'

Until the beginning of the nineteenth century the leading figures in the concert life of Boston were Messrs. Pick and Mallet, Mrs. Pownall, and Dr. Berkenhead. The most important of these was Mallet, a French gentleman, who is supposed to have come to America with Lafayette and to have served in the army of the Revolution. In addition to his concert activities he taught music, played the organ for the 'Rev. Mr. Kirkland's congregation,' and was one of the first music publishers in Boston. After the year 1793 we find his name infrequently on concert programs, and after that year, too, we notice a decided decline in both the number and the quality of Boston concerts.

That the concert-life of New England was not altogether confined to Boston we gather from the old records and newspaper files of Cambridge, Salem, Newport, Providence, Newburyport, Hartford, New Haven, and other towns. On the whole, the concerts given in those towns followed closely the taste of Boston. As far as we can discover, they were not very frequent; but, when it is considered that as late as the beginning of the nineteenth century none of the towns named possessed as many as two thousand inhabitants and some of them contained less than half that number, it[Pg 63] would be unreasonable to expect that they could have supported serious concerts to any great extent. Indeed, it is surprising that they should have lent their patronage to symphonies of Haydn, Pleyel, and Stamitz; overtures, concertos, quartets, and other numbers constituting what in the eighteenth century were 'heavy' programs; and we are not prepared to say how much patronage would be forthcoming for concerts of the same relative 'heaviness' in American towns of the same size to-day.

II

Turning to New York, we find that concert life began there about the same time as it did in Boston. In fact, wherever the first concert in America may have been held—a disputed point which is not of vital importance—the impulse to give such musical entertainments seems to have affected the whole country almost, if not quite, simultaneously. That there were concerts held in New York as early as 1733 appears from the publication in the New York 'Gazette' for December 24-31 of that year of a fearfully bad poem 'written at a Concert of Music where there was a great Number of Ladies.' In spite of the indiscriminate taste of the 'Gazette' it is unfortunate that we have preserved a very few numbers between 1725, when it first appeared, and 1733, when Zenger's New York 'Weekly Journal' was started. Possibly it said something in intelligible prose about such concerts as may have been given before the latter date. We first get on solid ground in 1736 with the announcement for January 21 of 'a Consort of Musick, Vocal and Instrumental for the Benefit of Mr. Pachelbell, the Harpsichord Part performed by himself. The Songs, Violins and German Flutes by private Hands.' For nearly twenty years following there is trace of only two concerts, concerning which no particulars[Pg 64] have been vouchsafed us. Then we read in the New York 'Mercury' of January, 1754, that Mr. Charles Love gave 'a Concert of vocal and instrumental Musick. To which will be added several select pieces on the hautboy by Mr. Love. After the concert will be a Ball.' In the following year William Tuckey advertised in the 'Weekly Post Boy' a 'Concert of Vocal and Instrumental Musick' of which he was good enough to indicate partially the program. Among other things he promised 'the celebrated dialogue between Damon and Chloe, compos'd by Mr. Arne. A two part Song, in Praise of a Soldier, by the late famous Mr. Henry Purcell. An "Ode on Masonry"[30] never perform'd in this country, nor ever in England but once in publick. And a Solo on the German flute by Mr. Cobham.' Mr. Tuckey's sympathies were pronouncedly English, but his taste was good. A concert given in 1756 featured a new organ built by a New Yorker named Gilfert Ash and two songs composed by Mr. Handel, one of them being 'in praise of musick, particularly of an organ.' There is no further mention of concerts in the newspapers until 1760 and, except there was a conspiracy of silence on the part of the press, the concert life of New York up to that year must have been extremely meagre.

It would appear, however, that subscription series started in 1760, for we find a notice in the New York 'Gazette' of January 14 that 'the Subscription Concert will be opened on Thursday next, the 15th instant,' and that 'those gentlemen that intend to subscribe to the said concert, are desired to send their names to Messrs. Dienval and Hulett who will wait on them with tickets, for the season.' In 1762 Messrs. Leonard and Dienval announced 'a publick and weekly Concert of Musick,' probably a continuation of the subscription series inaugurated[Pg 65] in 1762, though there is no announcement for 1763. Apparently there were subscription concerts every year until 1767, presumably under the same auspices. Then there is a hiatus until 1773, when subscription concerts were revived.

John Jones, in the meantime, had given summer concerts at his Ranelagh Gardens from 1765 until the enterprise failed in 1768. Also, Edward Bardin started a tri-weekly concert of music at his 'King's Arms Garden in the Broadway' in 1766. We do not know how long he continued his musical entertainments; we only know that he went out of business in 1769. Undeterred by the failure of Jones and Bardin, Samuel Francis opened Vaux Hall Gardens in 1769. He announced a concert of music, vocal and instrumental, to be given twice a week, but it would appear that he met with no greater success than his predecessors.

Besides summer concerts at the various gardens and the subscription concerts already alluded to, there were between 1760 and 1775 a number of benefit concerts, as well as a few performances by military bands and theatrical companies. The fine program given at Mr. Stotherd's benefit on February 9, 1770, has been quoted in the preceding chapter. About the same year French and Italian virtuosi began to settle in New York and their presence soon made itself felt.

The only musician in New York at this period who stands out prominently is William Tuckey and, though he gave some benefit concerts, he was concerned mainly with the development of church music. However, it is worthy of note that he was the first to introduce the 'Messiah' to America, the occasion being a concert of sacred music in 1770, devoted largely to excerpts from that oratorio, including 'the overture and sixteen other pieces, viz. air, recitatives and choruses.' During the war there were a number of concerts in New York given by officers of the British army and navy. William[Pg 66] Brown, who also appears in the concert life of Philadelphia and the South, gave a subscription series in New York in 1783 and again in 1785. Subsequently there seems to have been a lull in the musical affairs of the city until 1788, when subscription concerts were revived under the direction of Alexander Reinagle, 'member of the Society of Musicians in London,' and Henri Capron, a pupil of Gaviniés. They were continued by Mr. and Mrs. Van Hagen, 'lately from Amsterdam.' Pleyel, Stamitz, Dittersdorf, Martini, and Haydn shared the chief honors on the programs of that period, and we find a duet of Mozart on a program offered by Reinagle and Capron in 1789.

Beginning about the year 1797 the concert season in New York shifted from the winter to the summer, and regular subscription concerts consequently declined. Their place was taken by concerts which the enterprising proprietors of public gardens offered as special attractions to their patrons. It would seem at first blush that the musical taste of the people at large was exceptionally good when concerts of high grade really proved attractive, but the public gardens of that period usually did not cater to the masses. After the failure of Samuel Francis's Vaux Hall Gardens, enterprises of the kind seem to have lost favor. In 1793 we find Mrs. Armory running a Vaux Hall in Great George Street and announcing a concert of 'the most favourite overtures and pieces from the compositions of Fisher and Handel ... the orchestra being placed in the middle of a large tree.' Joseph Delacroix in the following year gave a very fine concert under the leadership of James Hewitt at his 'Salloon,' the Ice House Garden, No. 112 Broadway. Three years later he announced concerts of vocal and instrumental music to be given with an orchestra of fifteen of the best musicians three times a week at his newly decorated Vaux Hall Gardens. In 1798 he raised the number of his concerts to four a[Pg 67] week, but in the following year, unfortunately, he had to abandon the enterprise. The concerts given by Delacroix were invariably of the highest grade, according to later eighteenth-century standards.

During the summers of 1798 and 1799 there were given nightly concerts of 'vocal and instrumental' music at B. Ishewood's Ranelagh Garden near the Battery. The programs were made up almost entirely of popular songs. Joseph Corre, who opened Columbia Garden, opposite the Battery, in 1798, and Mount Vernon Garden on Leonard Street in 1800, hit upon the idea of attracting both æsthete and philistine by a judicious mixture of serious and popular programs. His serious concerts were similar to those given by Joseph Delacroix; his popular programs contained the same sort of stuff as was offered at Ranelagh Gardens.

Besides these summer garden concerts and the winter subscription series already mentioned there were many single benefit concerts after the war. The first of these, apparently, was given by William Brown in 1786, and in the same year Alexander Reinagle gave a Gargantuan affair that included three Haydn overtures, five excerpts from the 'Messiah' and 'Samson,' a concerto for violin, a sonata for pianoforte, a duet for violin and 'cello, and ten miscellaneous vocal numbers. Between that year and the end of the century benefit concerts were given by Henri Capron, the Van Hagens, John Christopher Moller, Jane Hewitt, George Edward Saliment, Mrs. Pownall, Mrs. Hodgkinson, Mme. De Sèze, and others. As a rule these concerts followed the prevailing fashion in the make-up of their programs. Haydn, Pleyel, Stamitz, Sacchini, Martini, Wranitzky, Kozeluch, and Clementi furnished the pièces de résistance for programs otherwise consisting of songs, concerts, sonatas and lesser instrumental forms by unidentified composers. The presence of a[Pg 68] French operatic troupe in 1790 gave a theatrical tinge to a few concerts in which they participated.

Outside of New York City there was practically no concert life, either in New York or New Jersey. Occasionally some musician on his way between New York and Philadelphia or the South would give a concert in Princeton, Newark, Trenton, or New Brunswick. One concert in the last-named town featured 'speaking and elegant dancing between the parts.' Albany, presumably, had the benefit of a few concerts, perhaps by visiting musicians from New York. Mr. Sonneck has discovered the announcement of a creditable concert given there in 1797 by J. H. Schmidt, 'formerly organist of the cathedral of Schiedam in Holland,' also formerly of Charleston and Baltimore. On the whole, however, New York and New Jersey, except for New York City, were musically very backward compared with New England.

III

Nothing, perhaps, could better illustrate the contradictory complexity of environmental influences than the state of musical culture in eighteenth-century Philadelphia. Compared with the Quaker attitude toward music, that of the Puritans was almost indecently liberal. Yet Philadelphia was beyond doubt musically the most cultured city in eighteenth-century America. The cause is not apparent, but we have ample evidence of the fact. As in the case of other American cities, it is impossible to say when public concerts started in Philadelphia. The first mention of concerts there, so far discovered, is in Gottlieb Mittelberger's Reise nach Pennsylvanien im Jahre 1750. But these, the author states, were private concerts 'auf dem Spinnet oder Klavicymbel.' No announcements of public concerts appear in the Philadelphia newspapers until 1757,[Pg 69] when the 'Pennsylvania Gazette' announces one under the direction of Mr. John Palma. The same gentleman gave another concert a few months later, as we find from the ledger of George Washington, who bought tickets for it. No more public concerts appear before 1764 and, indeed, they seem to have been far from common until after the war. During the last years of the century the musical life of Philadelphia was extremely rich, both as to public concerts and otherwise.

We know nothing about the concert of 1764 except that it was under the direction of James Bremner.[31] Another concert under the same direction was given in the following year. It was announced as a 'Performance of Solemn Music,' the 'vocal parts chiefly by young Gentlemen educated in this Seminary' (College of Philadelphia), and accompanied by the organ. It was a very fine concert, and the fact that it was highly successful is eloquent of the state of musical culture in Philadelphia at that time. Besides a chorus and airs set to scriptural texts the program included a Stamitz overture, the Sixth Concerto of Geminiani, an overture by the Earl of Kelly, Martini's Second Overture, the overture to Arne's 'Artaxerxes,' a sonata on the harpsichord, and a solo on the violin. Two orations were added for good measure. A series of subscription concerts was inaugurated on Thursday, January 19, 1764, and continued every Thursday until May 24 following. Apparently these also were under the direction of James Bremner and there is prima facie evidence that Francis Hopkinson was connected with them in some capacity. A second series was advertised to begin on Thursday, November 8, 1764, and to be continued until March 14 following. The programs of these concerts were not printed in the newspapers, as [Pg 70]admission was confined to subscribers, and it seems to have been customary to print programs for distribution with the tickets—an eminently sane and praiseworthy custom which fortunately still survives in America.

A concert given in 1764 by Stephen Forrage for his own benefit and that of other 'assistant performers at the Subscription Concert,' may be mentioned, were it only for the fact that Mr. Forrage appeared as soloist on Benjamin Franklin's 'famous Armonica, or Musical Glasses, so much admired for their great Sweetness and Delicacy of its tone.' We trust he had more respect for the musical proprieties than he evidently entertained for the grammatical ones. After 1765 no concerts appear until November, 1769, when Giovanni Gualdo gave a 'Grand Concert of Vocal and Instrumental Musick ... directed by Mr. Gualdo, after the Italian method'—whatever that may have been. Most of the program consisted of compositions by Mr. Gualdo, and there were two overtures by the Earl of Kelly.[32] In the same month a subscription series was started—'The Vocal Music by Messieurs Handel, Arne, Giardini, Jackson, Stanley, and others. The instrumental Music by Messieurs Geminiani, Barbella, Campioni, Zanetti, Pellegrino, Abel, Bach, Gualdo, the Earl of Kelly and others.' Gualdo gave two benefit concerts in 1770 and one in 1771. He died soon after. In the latter year also Mr. John McLean, instructor on the German flute, gave a concert 'performed by a full Band of Music, with Trumpets, Kettle Drum, and every instrument that can be introduced with Propriety,' and 'interspersed with the most pleasing and select Pieces, composed by approved authors.' A concert of popular songs by a Mr. Smith in 1772 was apparently the only [Pg 71]public attempt to break the musical monotony of Philadelphia until Signior Sodi, 'first dancing master of the opera in Paris and London,' gave a grand affair at which a Mr. Vidal, 'musician of the Chambers of the King of Portugal,' played 'on divers instruments of music,' while Signior Sodi, Miss Sodi, and Mr. Hullett (of New York) danced minuets, a louvre, a 'new Philadelphia cotillion,' a rigadoon, an allemande, a jigg, and a hompipe. In the same year 'Mr. Victor, musician to her late Royal Highness the Princess of Wales and Organist of St. George's, London,' advertised a performance on 'his new musical instruments ... the one he calls tromba doppio con tympana, on which he plays the first and second trumpet and a pair of annexed kettle drums with the feet, all at once; the other is called cymbaline d'amour, which resembles the musical glasses played by harpsichord keys, never subject to come out of tune, both of his own invention.'

From all of which appears that for a short time before the war musical life in Philadelphia degenerated sadly. Presumably the people were too much interested in the big and burning issues of the day to lend substantial support to concert givers. Likewise during the war they were too much occupied with more vital and disturbing affairs. While Lord Howe's army occupied Philadelphia there were, according to Capt. Johann Heinrich of the Hessian Jäger Corps, 'assemblies, concerts, comedies, clubs, and the like,' but it would hardly be patriotic to consider these activities of the enemy. Apart from them there were no public performances during the war until, on December 11, 1781, Lucerne, the French minister, gave an 'elegant concert' in honor of Generals Washington and Greene 'and a very polite circle of gentlemen and ladies,' at which was performed Francis Hopkinson's patriotic 'oratorial entertainment "Temple of Minerva".'

After the war, however, the musical life of Philadelphia[Pg 72] awoke with a bound. The revival was inaugurated by a fortnightly series of city concerts in 1783 under the leadership of John Bentley. A second series under the same leadership followed in 1784. Bentley promised for his second season 'a more elegant and perfect entertainment than it was possible (from the peculiar circumstances of the time) to procure during the last winter,' and he felt encouraged in his enterprise by 'the rising taste for music, and its improved state in Philadelphia.' Bentley discontinued his concerts in 1785-86 and apparently that season was barren of such entertainments. In 1786, however, there came the advent of Alexander Reinagle. Together with Henri Capron, William Brown, and Alexander Juhan he started in that year a series of twelve fortnightly concerts, the programs of which were all announced in the newspapers. Certainly there could have been no lack of musical culture among the Philadelphians when they supported an extended series of such concerts as were given by Reinagle et al. The concerts were continued in the winter of 1787-88 and then apparently discontinued until 1792, when they were revived by Messrs. Reinagle and Capron in conjunction with John Christopher Moller. In these the high standard of the preceding concerts was well maintained.

Meanwhile a Mr. Duplessis, who kept an English school for young gentlemen, started a series of fourteen concerts on his own account in 1786, but we do not know how many he succeeded in giving. In the same year an amateur subscription series was started, apparently under the auspices of a society called the 'Musical Club,' and was continued every season until 1790-91. Then, it seems, there was a consolidation of amateurs and professionals in 1794, with Reinagle as the guiding spirit. They gave a season of six subscription concerts with programs devoted largely to Haydn, Pleyel, and Handel. No further subscription series are[Pg 73] discoverable before the end of the century, with the exception of those given by Mrs. Grattan, who, in 1797, announced eight subscription concerts. As she referred to these as 'the second Ladies Concert' the inference is that she had already given a series in 1796. Mrs. Grattan confined her activities chiefly to chamber and vocal music, but as we find Handel, Haydn, Pleyel, Paesiello, Viotti, and Sacchini figuring on her programs, it is evident that the public taste had not degenerated. She gave another season in 1797-98, after which she left Philadelphia for Charleston, appearing later in New York. In addition to regular subscription concerts there were, after the Revolution, an increasing number of affairs given for private profit, for charity, and for other purposes. Especially noteworthy are the activities of Andrew Adgate, who was a real pioneer of artistic choral music in Philadelphia. In 1784 Adgate founded by subscription 'The Institution for the Encouragement of Church Music,' which became known in 1785 as the Uranian Society and in 1787 as the Uranian Academy of Philadelphia.

In the preceding chapter we mentioned the Grand Concert given on May 4, 1786, with a chorus of 230 and an orchestra of 50, as well as the concert of April 12, 1787. Both were given under the auspices of the Uranian Society, with Adgate as conductor. It is worthy of note that the syllabus of the second concert was accompanied by remarks on the pieces to be performed—probably the first example of annotated programs in America. The Uranian Academy was actually opened in 1787 and its second annual concert was held in 1788. How long afterward it survived we cannot say, as no further references to it are found in the newspapers. According to Scharf and Westcott's 'History of Philadelphia,' however, it was active until after 1800.

After 1788 the sacred choral concerts—or 'oratorios,' as they were called—gradually approximated the style[Pg 74] of the purely secular vocal and instrumental concerts, and after 1790 they seem to have disappeared altogether.

The arrival in 1790 of the French company of which we have already spoken introduced a strikingly novel note into the concert life of Philadelphia. In contrast to the style of thing done by Bremner, Hopkinson, Reinagle, and other men of severe taste their programs do not strike us too favorably. Indeed, their concerts marked the beginning of a curious corruption in the public taste and of a tendency toward indiscriminate program-making which has not yet completely disappeared from our midst. From this time until the end of the century hardly a program appears that does not contain a theatrical composition of Monsigny, Paesiello, Sacchini, Cimarosa, Cherubini, or some other operatic writer of this period, and, as we draw nearer to the nineteenth century, the more miscellaneous become the programs. During those years the concert-life of Philadelphia was dominated largely by French musicians, most of whom, it would appear, were men who had received the best European training. We notice, for instance, that Joseph César was 'a pupil of the celebrated Signor Viotti and first violin of the theatre in Cape François,' and that Victor Pelissier was 'first French horn in the theatre in Cape François.' Perhaps the fact that so many of the French musicians were virtuosi inspired the making of programs devoted to medleys, ariettes, 'favourite sonatas,' and concertos for every instrument that could possibly be employed solo. Yet even such a thorough artist as Alexander Reinagle descended—perforce, we presume—to the inclusion in his programs of such vocal gems as 'Kiss me now or never,' 'Poor Tom Bowling,' 'My Poll and my partner Joe,' 'A Smile from the girl of my heart,' and so forth. Mr. and Mrs. Hodgkinson, Mrs. Pownall, Miss Broadhurst and others gave concerts with programs equally[Pg 75] miscellaneous, and it must be admitted that all this points to a distinct musical retrogression in Philadelphia during the last decade of the eighteenth century.

There remain to be mentioned the summer concerts given in public gardens which became very popular toward the beginning of the nineteenth century. They were inaugurated, it would seem, by a Mr. Vincent M. Pelosi, proprietor of the Pennsylvania Coffee House, who proposed for the summer season of 1786 'to open a Concert of Harmonial Music,' to be continued weekly from the first Thursday of June to the last Thursday of September. His example was followed in 1789 by Messrs. George and Robert Gray, proprietors of 'Gray's Gardens,' who gave weekly concerts from May to October, and continued that feature until about 1793. As their programs included compositions of Haydn, Stamitz, Martini, and Abel, it may be seen that they adhered to the prevailing standard. George Esterley started concerts at his 'Vauxhall Harrowgate' in 1789, engaging as soloist 'a lady from Europe who has performed in all the operas in the theatres Royal of Dublin and Edinburgh.' The announcement has a very modern ring. As far as we know Esterley continued his enterprise at least until 1796, presenting somewhat the same programs as Messrs. Gray. In 1797 Messrs. Bates and Darley opened Bush Hill or Pennsylvania Tea Gardens with vocal and instrumental music as a feature, but were obliged to dissolve partnership in the same year. John Mearns, proprietor of the Centre House Tavern and Gardens, announced in 1799 that he would add 'to the entertainment his house afforded ... at a very great expense ... a grand organ of the first power and tone, which [would] be played every Monday, Wednesday and Friday evening during the summer.' He added regular concerts in the following summer.

[Pg 76]

IV

It is not a far-fetched surmise that concerts, in the broadest acceptation of the term, were known in the South earlier than in any other part of the country. The colonial cavalier, who, after the fashion of English gentlemen at the time, kept a chest of viols in his house, must occasionally have found among his visitors a sufficient number of competent players to form an ensemble of some sort. As the population increased and the opportunities for social intercourse improved these occasions undoubtedly became frequent, and, without any sacrifice of historical probability, one can easily imagine social gatherings at which the most skillful musicians performed concerted pieces for the entertainment of the other guests. The picture is quite in accord with what we know of English and Southern colonial society in the late seventeenth and early eighteenth century. Certainly, in Charleston and other centres of Southern society and culture, it is hard to imagine that private musical affairs were not quite common at the beginning of the eighteenth century. Indeed, a large proportion of the earlier public concerts in Charleston were given by amateurs with the assistance of professional musicians, and it is reasonable to assume that a habit of giving private concerts preceded the custom of giving public ones.

The first public concert we find trace of in Charleston was a benefit given for Mr. John Salter in 1732. Several other benefit concerts were given in the same year. We know nothing about them except that they consisted of vocal and instrumental music and were usually followed by a ball. Mr. Sonneck thinks it probable that they were devoted to 'more or less skillful renditions of Corelli, Vivaldi, Purcell, Abaco, Handel, Geminiani, and such other masters whose fame was[Pg 77] firmly established in Europe.' Probably subscription concerts started in 1732 or 1733, for in the latter year we find 'N. B.'s' to concert advertisements to the effect that 'This will be the last Concert' and 'This is the first time on the subscription.' These subscription seasons apparently continued until 1735. From that year until 1751 there are no concerts advertised except a benefit for John Salter and one for Charles Theodore Pachelbel. A benefit concert in 1751, one in 1755, and one in 1760 brings us through years of famine to 1765 and Mr. Thomas Pike. Mr. Pike was a talented person who played the French horn and the bassoon, and also taught ladies and gentlemen 'very expeditiously on moderate terms in Orchesography (or the art of dancing by characters and demonstrative figures)'. He gave a concert in 1765 with the assistance of 'gentlemen of the place,' and was obliging enough to publish the program, which was devoted to horn, violoncello, harpsichord, and bassoon concertos, a song, a trio, and the overture of Handel's 'Scipio.'

In 1767 Messrs. Bohrer, Morgan and Comp started weekly concerts at their Charleston Vauxhall. They did not include tea and coffee in the price of the tickets, but on one extraordinary occasion when 'four or five pieces' were exhibited between the parts of the concert 'by a person who is confident very few in town ever saw, or can equal, his performance,'—on that extraordinary occasion tea and coffee were included in the expense 'till the person above mentioned begins.' Unfortunately we do not know the nature of the person's performance. He was, it seems, a very exclusive person and refused to appear more than once in Charleston, 'unless by the particular desire of a genteel company.' Nevertheless the enterprise of Messrs. Bohrer, Morgan and Comp does not seem to have succeeded. Peter Valton gave a benefit concert in 1768 and a subscription concert in 1769. In the meantime the St. [Pg 78]Cæcilia Society, which was founded in 1762, had been giving regular subscription seasons since 1766 or perhaps earlier. That these St. Cæcilia Concerts were important affairs is evident from an advertisement inserted by the society in the New York, Philadelphia, and Boston papers in 1771, calling for a first and second violin, two hautboys, and a bassoon, and offering to such, if 'properly qualified,' a one-, two-, or three-year contract. The society continued to give regular concerts all during the century, but we have no information as to their nature.

Outside the St. Cæcilia concerts we find in 1772 only one, 'the vocal part by a gentleman, who does it merely to oblige on this occasion,' and, in 1773, two at which a Mr. Saunders exhibited 'his highest dexterity and grand deception.' In 1774 a Mr. Francheschini, who seems to have been a violinist of the St. Cæcilia Society, announced a concert for his benefit by express permission of that organization. Mr. Van Hagen, of Rotterdam, who afterward appeared in New York and Boston, gave a concert in the same year, at which Signora Castella performed on the musical glasses. Then the war intervened, putting practically a complete quietus on music for the time being.

So far, the concert-life of Charleston, from what we know of it, does not at all compare with that of contemporary New York, Philadelphia, or Boston. After the war it improved somewhat, but the intrusion of theatrical people into the concert field immediately following the war was very unfortunate from a musical point of view. With the exception of a subscription series started in 1786 by Joseph Lafar, and concerning which we have no particulars, there do not appear to have been any concerts worthy of the name until after 1790. They were simply scrappy theatrical entertainments, disguised sufficiently to evade the law which[Pg 79] seems to have existed in restraint of such. The following advertisement shows the modus operandi, which is very suggestive of the 'Sacred Concerts' given on Sundays in many of our present-day vaudeville houses. 'On Saturday evening at the Lecture Room, late Harmony Hall, will be a Concert, between the parts will be rehearsed (gratis) the musical piece of Thomas and Sally. To which will be added, a pantomime, called Columbia, or Harlequin Shipwreck'd.'

Even acrobatic performances were introduced into the concerts of this period. Several concerts for charity were given in 1791, and may have been real concerts, though we have no particulars concerning them. George Washington attended one in that year, at which, he says, 'there were at least 400 ladies the number and appearance of which exceeded anything of the kind I had ever seen.' Excusably enough, perhaps, he was not sufficiently interested in the music to say anything about it.

From 1793 on, however, the concert-life of Charleston was very rich. Resides the subscription concerts of the St. Cecilia[33] Society, there were regular series by the Harmonic Society, which appeared in 1794, as well as frequent concerts given by individual musicians. Much of this activity was due to the influx of French musicians following the revolutions in France and St. Domingo. We find most of the benefit concerts from 1793 to the end of the century given by people with French names, and there is a decided leaning toward French composers, such as Grétry, Gossec, Davaux, Michel, La Motte, Guenin, and Gluck. However, the concerts on the whole were sufficiently eclectic, featuring also the compositions of Haydn, Pleyel, Stamitz, Gyrowetz, Corelli, Giornovichi, Hoffmeister, Viotti, Martini, dementi, Sacchini, Jarnovick, Krumpholtz. [Pg 80]Handel, Cimarosa, and even Mozart.[34] Certainly the music lovers of Charleston did not suffer from lack of variety.

Mrs. Pownall, whom we have already met, gave a concert in 1796 which was somewhat out of the ordinary. It was advertised as a Grand Concert Spiritualé[!], and was devoted almost exclusively to 'overtures, songs and duets, selected from the most celebrated of Handel's oratorios: the "Messiah," "Judas Maccabæus," "Esther," etc., etc.' In the same year there was advertised a 'Grand Musical Festival,' which is interesting for many reasons. Probably it was the first musical affair in America to which the term 'Festival' was applied; it employed an orchestra of over thirty performers, which was an unusually large ensemble for that time, and it included among the numbers on its program the overture to Gluck's Iphigénie en Aulide and Haydn's Stabat Mater—'the celebrated Stabat Mater of Doctor Haydn,' as the announcement puts it. Apart from these, there were no further concerts in the last decade of the century which call for special mention. Two attempts were made to revive the Vaux Hall, one by 'Citizen' Cornet in 1795 and one by Mons. Placide in 1799, but they do not seem to have added much of value to the musical life of the city. On the whole, in Charleston, as elsewhere in America, the beginning of the nineteenth century saw a perceptible decline in the public demand for music of the best kind.

Our information on early concert-life in other Southern cities does not enable us to say much about it. In Maryland, Annapolis probably took the lead musically until after the middle of the century, but no sources [Pg 81]have been disclosed which would supply us with any details of its musical life. We are a little better informed on musical affairs in Baltimore subsequent to the year 1780 and it would seem that toward the end of the century that city resembled Charleston very closely in the number and quality of its concerts. Also to Baltimore as to Charleston there was a large influx of French musicians after 1790, and with similar results. We know nothing about concerts in Baltimore prior to the year 1784, when William Brown demonstrated his 'superior talents on the German flute.' A couple of concerts, one of instrumental music only, are advertised for 1786, and in the same year we find the first notice of a subscription season. As far as we can discover subscription concerts were a regular feature of the musical life of the city until the end of the century. In 1790 Ishmail Spicer, who conducted a singing school for the improvement of church music, exhibited his pupils in a concert of sacred music. Then came the French musicians with their overtures of Grétry and their ariettes of Dalayrac. Like their compatriots in Charleston, they proved commendably catholic in their tastes, and, in addition to French compositions, gave frequent examples of Haydn, Pleyel, Stamitz, Bach, and Gyrowetz (whose name they never succeeded in spelling correctly). Though they practically monopolized musical affairs in Baltimore for many years, they collaborated freely with English, German, and Italian musicians, all of which made for the musical good of the city. It may be mentioned that Alexander Reinagle gave some concerts in Baltimore in 1791 and 1792, with programs of a quality which might be expected from an artist of his superior attainments, and he seems to have been the only non-French musician who counted much in the concert life of Baltimore in the last decade of the century. As elsewhere in America, there were open-air concerts in summer at[Pg 82] such resorts of the Baltimore fashionables as Gray's Gardens and Chatsworth Gardens, and, as elsewhere in America, the musical life of the people degenerated sadly with the opening of the nineteenth century.

Williamsburg, Fredericksburg, Petersburg, Norfolk, Richmond, Alexandria, Savannah and other Southern cities apparently had a musical life as rich as could reasonably be expected in communities of their size. We possess little information concerning them, but there have been unearthed by Mr. Sonneck a number of references to concerts in these cities, sometimes with programs quoted in full, which show that they heard the best contemporary music occasionally, and perhaps even frequently. Many of the concerts were given by visiting musicians, such as Mrs. Pick, Mrs. Sully, Mrs. D. Hemard, Mr. Graupner, Mr. Shaw, and others whose names appear on the concert programs of Charleston, Philadelphia, and Roston. Rut it is certain that there was also in most of these cities a musical life which functioned quite independently of such visitors. Fredericksburg, we know, had a Harmonic Society in 1784, which gave concerts 'the third Wednesday evening in each month,' and it is not improbable that similar societies existed in other towns where there was much social intercourse between people of culture, refinement and exceeding leisure. Among the music-loving, pleasure-loving, gregarious gentlefolk of the old South, unhampered by the fetters of occupation and confronted merely with the task of making life pass as pleasantly as possible, the formation of such societies must have been inevitable. Perhaps among the families of their descendants scattered all over the country there may be preserved many old documents that would throw a welcome light on their musical life, but until such documents do appear we must rest content with the surmise, based upon the little information we possess, that musical culture in the South, if it did not[Pg 83] quite reach the standard attained in Boston, New York, and Philadelphia, was at least more widely diffused than elsewhere in America.

A comparison between the eighteenth-century concert life of America and of Europe will easily show that this country, even considering its many disadvantages, was not very far behind the older continent. Paris, London, Vienna, Berlin, and perhaps a few other German cities like Mannheim and Hamburg, were ahead of New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and Charleston in the quality of their concerts, but not so very far ahead as to make the American cities look provincial in comparison. When we consider the wealth of tradition behind the musical life of Europe and the many difficulties which confronted early concert givers in America the difference appears still less. But, as we pointed out in the last chapter, there was one very profound and important difference—the European cities were productive, the American cities were not. And, after all, the artistic stature of a country must finally be measured not by what it appreciates, but by what it creates. Thus measured, America of the eighteenth century was still a musical infant.

W. D. D.

CHAPTER IV
EARLY MUSICAL ORGANIZATIONS

All over the country in the last decade of the eighteenth century there is noticeable a decline in the musical taste of the American people as represented in their public musical life. This was due probably to a variety of causes, chief among which seems to have been the influx, after the Revolution, of a flood of immigrants lacking the culture which the colonists had inherited or through long-settled and prosperous residence acquired. The second decade of the nineteenth century, however, saw a renaissance of musical activity, which was developed into vigorous life chiefly through the agency of definitely constituted musical organizations. The concerts of the eighteenth century, on the whole, were rendered possible by a coöperation between people of culture, which in itself constituted a loose sort of organization. This coöperation, indeed, crystallized about the middle of the century into a number of avowedly musical societies. The history of the earliest of these is wrapped in considerable obscurity and there is an impressive number of them claiming to be called the first. The claim can never satisfactorily be determined, for it is quite impossible to define categorically the limits of a musical organization. Broadly, the term covers any number of people[Pg 85] coöperating for a musical purpose, and would include a singing class of half a dozen members as fittingly as a modern orchestra or a musical society of hundreds.

We may, however, define a musical society in the modern sense as a body of people regularly and permanently organized for the carrying out of a definite program of musical education, study or performance. Such societies in America have been an evolution. They have evolved, on the one hand, from coöperation between cultured amateurs for the purpose of giving musical performances and, on the other, from the formation of singing classes for cultivating a proper skill in rendering the psalms. There is, consequently, considerable justification for the course taken by some historians in looking upon these singing classes as the first of our musical organizations, though, as will appear later, they had nothing to do with the formation of our earliest musical societies properly so called, such as the St. Cecilia Society of Charleston, the Musical Society of Boston or the Harmonic Society of New York.

I

As far as we know, the first avowedly musical organization in America was the Orpheus Club, which is said to have existed in Philadelphia in 1759. We possess no information concerning it. Philadelphia at that time contained a goodly number of music lovers. Such men as John Penn, James Brenner, Dr. Kuhn, and Francis Hopkinson, were then engaged in breathing the spirit of life into the dead body of musical Philadelphia. How well they succeeded we have seen in our chapter on early concerts. Musical gatherings were frequent at their homes and it is not impossible that they were prominently concerned in the formation of the Orpheus Club. If they were, the activities of[Pg 86] that organization must have been very interesting and we can only regret that no record of them has seen the light.

In default of unimpeachable evidence even of the existence of the Orpheus Club at the time mentioned we must award the title of pioneer among American musical organizations to the St. Cecilia Society of Charleston.[35] This society was founded in 1762. According to the rules, which were 'agreed upon and finally confirmed' in 1773, it consisted of one hundred and twenty members and its main purpose apparently was to give concerts. Until well into the nineteenth century it was the centre of the concert life of Charleston and for many years it seemed indeed to have almost a monopoly of the musical talent, amateur and professional, in the city. It even went as far as Boston to gather properly qualified performers into its fold. In addition to a yearly concert on St. Cecilia's Day, the society gave regular fortnightly concerts during the season. The orchestra was composed of gentlemen performers and professional musicians—the latter engaged by the year. It was the nearest approach to a permanent orchestra that existed in America outside the theatres before the nineteenth century and there is every likelihood that its performances reached a high standard of technical and artistic excellence.

An Orpheus Society apparently existed in Charleston in 1772 and there has been found an allusion to an Amateur Society in 1791. A Harmonic Society also appeared there in 1794. All these societies gave concerts, but there are so few references to them in the contemporary press that we know nothing else definite about them. Probably their activities were to a large extent private and their concerts were confined to [Pg 87]members. This would easily account for the absence of their names from the newspaper advertisement. There was a musical society in Baltimore in 1799 and a Harmonic Society in Fredericksburg, Va., in 1784. We know nothing about the former, but the latter, we gather, was 'peculiarly intended for benevolent purposes' and gave concerts on the third Wednesday evening of each month. Whether musical societies also existed in other Southern towns, such as Williamsburg, Richmond, Alexandria, Norfolk, and Petersburg, it is impossible to say. Probably they did. All the chief Virginia towns were of about equal size and importance, and social conditions in all of them were strikingly alike. The existence of a musical society in one of them is prima facie evidence of its existence in the others.

Considering the great activity apparent in the musical life of Philadelphia during the second half of the eighteenth century, the dearth of musical organizations is surprising. There appears to have been a musical club under the auspices of which subscription concerts, known collectively as the 'Amateur Concert,' were given between 1787 and 1789. This and the Orpheus Club already mentioned were the only musical societies existing in Philadelphia during the eighteenth century as far as we can discover. The Uranian Society is hard to classify, but it was really more an educational institution than a musical society in the accepted meaning of the term. It was founded in 1784 by Andrew Adgate, as an 'Institution for the Encouragement of Church Music,' an 'Institution for promoting the knowledge of psalmody' and an 'Institution for diffusing more generally the knowledge of Vocal Music.' Evidently there was some confusion in Mr. Adgate's mind as to the exact purpose of his institution. It was a somewhat Utopian scheme, contemplating the establishment of a free school for the study[Pg 88] of vocal music, open to all denominations and subsisting on public bounty. The institution became known as the Uranian Society in 1785 and as the Uranian Academy in 1787. The plan of the academy, as finally formulated in the latter year, shows that its purpose had definitely narrowed down to the teaching of church music. The country was not yet ripe for such an undertaking and the enterprise failed, but between 1785 and 1787 it was responsible for a number of choral concerts on a scale hitherto unequalled in America.

Considering that there was an active concert life in New York at least as early as 1754, it might be presumed that musical societies of some sort existed there at that date, but we have no evidence on the subject. The first mention we find of a musical society in New York is contained in the advertisement of a concert in 1773 at which some of the instrumental parts were played by gentlemen of the Harmonic Society. Possibly the Harmonic Society had already been in existence for some years, but up to 1773 it escaped mention in the newspapers. How long it lasted we cannot say. In 1786 we find in the New York 'Daily Advertiser' an announcement that 'the Society for promoting vocal music meet at six o'clock this evening at Mr. Halett's School Room in Little Queen Street, agreeable to adjournment.' No further mention of the society appears and there is no clew to its name or to the length of its existence. Obviously it was not identical with the Harmonic, for the gentlemen of that society seem to have been devoted chiefly to instrumental music.

There was in New York a St. Cecilia Society, founded apparently in 1791, 'with a view to cultivate the science of music and good taste in its education' (?). Instrumental music was its main consideration and it held weekly concerts, the nature of which we have been unable to discover. We know only that 'the principal[Pg 89] professors of music' were 'members and performers at these concerts.' The society lasted until 1799, when it was amalgamated with the Harmonical Society, which had been founded in 1796 'for the purpose of cultivating the knowledge of vocal and instrumental music.' The result of the amalgamation was the Philharmonic Society which held its first annual concert at the Tontine Hotel on Broadway in December, 1800, 'with a variety of vocal and instrumental music by the most celebrated performers in the city.' It is impossible to say how long the Philharmonic lasted, but probably it survived until well into the nineteenth century.

In 1793 there appears a mention of a Uranian Musical Society, which 'was instituted for improvement in sacred vocal music.' Meetings were held every Wednesday, and, judging from the number of prominent New Yorkers included in its membership, the society must have exercised considerable influence. The last mention of it appears in 1798, but there is no evidence that it ceased to exist in that year. Of the Polyhymnia Society, founded in 1799, and the Euterpean Society, which probably first appeared in 1800, we know nothing. According to Ritter, the latter was considered as 'perhaps the oldest musical society in the United States,' and 'as the lineal descendant of the old Apollo.' There is absolutely no evidence to support either of these statements. Mr. Sonneck quotes from the 'Sketches and Impressions' of Thomas Goodwin, published in 1887, the following note on the subject: 'The Euterpean, an amateur orchestra, was already an old organization half a century ago. It had been well managed, and owned a small library and several valuable instruments.... I have a program of its forty-eighth anniversary concert, given January 21, 1847, which would carry its organization back to the last century.' From the fact that the Euterpean Society[Pg 90] does not appear among the musical societies in the directory of 1799, Mr. Sonneck is inclined to the opinion that the society was founded on January 21, 1800.

Probably in New York and elsewhere in America there were a number of convivial clubs in which music, especially the singing of glees and catches, occupied an important place. The frequency of such organizations in England is an argument in favor of the assumption, for English life was reproduced very much in detail by the American colonists. It is not surprising that they escaped mention in the contemporary press, as their activities were not of any public interest. An exception must be made in favor of the Columbian Anacreontic Society, which was modelled upon the famous Anacreontic Society of London. The latter is of special interest to Americans, since it furnished indirectly the music of 'The Star Spangled Banner.' The New York version of the society probably was more innocuous than its English model, though its affairs must have been marked by a robust jolity. It was founded by John Hodgkinson, a former member of the London Anacreontic Society, whose excellent musical endowments and achievements did not prevent him from being a faithful worshipper of Bacchus, and possibly it numbered also in its membership other graduates of its English prototype. The exact date of its foundation is not known, but it certainly existed in 1795, as we glean from the following item in a concert program of that year:

'Collini's Odes on the Passions (!), to be spoken by Mr. Hodgkinson. With music representative of each passion; as performed at the Anacreontic Society, composed by J. Hewitt.' This, Mr. Sonneck notes, 'is in all probability the earliest example of melodramatic music composed in America.' Unfortunately we have no other data on the nature of the music performed at the concerts of the society. These were held usually[Pg 91] at the Tontine Coffee House, and it may be assumed that they were devoted chiefly to catches, glees, and other songs similar to those performed by the English society, but perhaps not so intimately frank. Unlike the English society, but curiously like every American stag society, before or since, the Columbian Anacreontic held an annual ladies' night. The custom carries an unpleasantly philistine flavor, which is further emphasized when we read an announcement that such members of the society as chose to attend a benefit performance for John Hodgkinson would be accommodated in the 'Shakespeare Box' and would 'wear their badges.' But in spite of all this it seems to have been of some value in the musical life of New York.

II

During the first half of the nineteenth century the chief musical societies in New York seem to have been the New York Choral Society, the Philharmonic Society, the Euterpean Society, the Handel and Haydn Society, The Musical Fund, and the Sacred Music Society. Of the Euterpean Society we have already spoken as having been founded probably in 1800. Apparently it was composed chiefly of wealthy amateurs and was somewhat dilettante in its activities. A contemporary critic thus arraigns it: 'This society, from its long standing, the respectability of its officers, and the individual talent of its members, might possess the most extensive influence in the musical community. It has in its possession funds, and the largest library of instrumental music in the country; and yet, with all these advantages on its side, what has the Euterpean done, or what does it do? It can be summed up in a few words. A few of its members meet every Friday evening and play overtures and symphonies; and every[Pg 92] year they give an indifferent concert and a ball, the last of which is the chief attraction. Now, we ask the Euterpean if, like a horse in a mill, they are forever to pursue this eternal round?'

The Euterpean did not continue that or any other course for very long, but, whatever justice there may have been in the foregoing criticisms, it was certainly the only instrumental music society in New York during the years immediately preceding the advent of the Philharmonic. Possibly its annual concert was 'indifferent,' but the program of 1839, quoted by Dr. Ritter, which includes compositions of Herold, Auber, Bellini, Boehm, Purcell, Rossini, and Thalberg, would argue the contrary.[36] The orchestra was of sufficiently good symphonic proportions. It consisted of six first violins, five second violins, four tenors, three 'celli, two contrabasses, four flutes, two oboes, two clarinets, two bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, three trombones, kettle drums, drum and cymbals. Apparently the principals in the orchestra of the Euterpean lacked zeal and enterprise, but, whatever their faults, we are justified in looking upon the society as the parent of the Philharmonic and as an important factor in the development of orchestral music in New York.

Of this Philharmonic Society, which succeeded the Euterpean and which is still flourishing, we shall speak in a later chapter. As far as we can discover it had nothing to do with the earlier society of the same name which was founded in 1799 of the junction between the Harmonical and the St. Cecilia societies. The earlier Philharmonic is somewhat elusive. If the occasional allusions to a Philharmonic Society during the [Pg 93]first decades of the nineteenth century referred to the same organization, it probably existed until about 1829. There is a possibility, however, that the original Philharmonic failed and that various attempts were made to form other societies under the same name. Dr. Ritter says that the Musical Fund, organized about 1828, was the successor to a Philharmonic, the object of which was 'to promote the cultivation of the science of music; to afford facilities for the exhibition of talent, and its advancement to fair competition among the profession and amateurs.' As the Musical Fund gave monthly rehearsals for 'the display of glee and solo talent,' it may be inferred that the Philharmonic was concerned mainly if not altogether with vocal music; but we have been unable to discover any evidence which would show that the two societies had anything in common.

The New York Choral Society, which devoted its energies to sacred music, seems to have done very notable work during the short time it lasted. It was founded in 1823, chiefly by Episcopal clergymen, and its first grand concert, given at St. George's Church on Beekman Street in 1824, is interesting enough to deserve citation:

[Pg 94]

Unfortunately contemporary critics were more enthusiastic than discriminating and it is impossible to tell what sort of performance was given of this excellent program. The effect of the forte parts of Mozart's motetto, one critic asserts, 'was almost overwhelming to a great number of the auditors, and will not be soon forgotten.' The same gentleman quite loses his balance over the 'sublime and majestic chorus from the oratorio of "Mount of Olives," which was another of the full pieces that had never before been presented to the musical public of this city. The connoisseurs and critics were watching with considerable solicitude to hear the splendid effort of genius, and which may be justly ranked among the first compositions of the present day. We believe we may assert with confidence that the expectations of all were fully realized, and, with regard to many of the audience, far exceeded. The effect was indeed grand, and was heightened by the trumpet of Mr. Petrie, and the kettle drums.'

In connection with Mr. Petrie's trumpet it may be of interest to note the extraordinary predilection of New Yorkers at that time for brass instruments. Dr. Ritter quotes the following from a contemporary critic: 'The uncommon partiality our citizens manifest for the noisy part of the orchestra has been lately much commented upon by strangers. The trumpet and trombone[Pg 95] occupy, in our concerts, the posts of honor. True it is, Mr. Norton and Mr. Gambeti are excellent performers—but we hear them in concerts too often. In England they have Harper, a first-rate trumpet; and Germany has Schmidt, the best trombone that ever existed. This gentleman visited England and was heard occasionally, but at Niblo's Garden we will undertake to say that more trumpet and trombone concertos were played last season than have been heard in England and Germany for two years. If Mr. Young adds himself to this triumvirate next season, we may fairly expect New York will be blown away.'

The Choral Society seems to have been eclipsed and perhaps absorbed by the New York Sacred Music Society, which was founded in the same year. The latter owed its existence to the somewhat peculiar circumstance of a strike among church choristers. Considerable reputation attached to the choir of Zion Church, which was known as the Zion Church Musical Association. The association applied to the vestry for an increase of salary or permission to give a concert. Their request was refused, and, after some bickering, the choir resigned and formed The New York Sacred Music Society. The history of this society is one of brilliant accomplishment. At first its means and its membership were limited, and its artistic ambitions were hampered by the lackadaisical attitude of most of its members, to whom the meeting room of the society was merely 'a pleasant place in which to pass an evening, to see their friends, and hear a little music.' Nevertheless, a few years after its foundation it was already doing work of a standard that must give it a notable place in the history of New York musical organizations. In 1827 it gave a concert for the benefit of the Greek patriots, with a program on which figured the names of Handel, Mozart, Beethoven, Arne, and Jomelli. There was an orchestra of twenty-seven,[Pg 96] a chorus of about sixty, and a number of distinguished soloists, which included the famous Madame Malibran. 'From this period,' says the New York 'Musical Journal,' 'the history of the progress of the highest species of sacred music in this city is identified with the history of the society.'

Four years later the Sacred Music Society produced the 'Messiah' in its entirety, under the leadership of Uriah C. Hill, whom we shall have occasion to meet later. There was an orchestra of thirty-eight instruments and a chorus of seventy-four voices. Encouraged by its success it gave Haydn's 'Te Deum' and 'Creation,' and in 1838 it produced Mendelssohn's 'St. Paul'—only two years after that work had made its first appearance at Düsseldorf. For reasons which we are unable to discover the Sacred Music Society ceased to exist in 1849. Possibly the musical public of New York were not overly inclined toward oratorio, and possibly also the society suffered from the competition of a number of rival organizations. Most of these, such as 'The Academy of Church Music,' were formed out of church choirs and very evidently aspired to rival the fame of the Sacred Music Society. None of them, however, attained any success. Their effect, indeed, was if anything, pernicious, for what New York then needed in its musical affairs was concentration rather than expansion.

For a short time New York possessed a Handel and Haydn Society which originated in a number of oratorio performances gotten up to finance the rebuilding of the Zion Church. This was before the day of the Sacred Music Society. The Musical Fund, already mentioned, seems to have been chiefly an orchestral organization, notwithstanding the fact that, as Dr. Ritter points out, it gave monthly rehearsals for 'the display of the glee and solo talent' of the city. A concert given by it in 1830 included the overture to Mozart's 'Magic[Pg 97] Flute,' an overture of Winter, a pianoforte solo, a clarinet concerto, and a trumpet concerto(!). We find that at its concert in 1836 the Musical Fund had a very well balanced orchestra of thirty-eight instruments and performed, among other things, the overtures to Rossini's 'Sémiramide' and 'William Tell.' Handel, Haydn, Mozart, Gluck, Beethoven, Rossini, and Weber all figured on the society's programs, and on one occasion it presented Beethoven's 'Eroica,' arranged for septet.

About this time there seems to have been a number of musical societies among the German population of New York, which was beginning to assume large proportions. Chief of these was the Concordia, which was devoted to the improvement of instrumental and vocal music. For a short time the Concordia was conducted by Daniel Schlesinger, a native of Hamburg and a pupil of Ferdinand Ries, who exercised considerable influence on musical life in New York during his few years in the city. Many semi-private clubs for the cultivation of various branches of music also began to make their appearance, but they are of no particular importance, except in so far as they testify to the growth of a serious interest in musical matters.

III

It is quite impossible to say when and where the first musical society made its appearance in New England. Though both Mr. Elson and Dr. Ritter assert that the Stoughton Musical Society was founded in 1786 its right of priority is not apparent. Even if it had its beginning in the singing school which Billings taught at Stoughton in 1774, it still must yield precedence to the St. Cecilia and Orpheus societies of Charleston, the Orpheus Club of Philadelphia, and the Harmonic Society[Pg 98] of New York—all of which were in existence before the latter date.

Mr. Sonneck thinks that some sort of musical society existed in Boston as early as 1761. Certainly an Aretinian Society existed there in 1782, as we know from the announcement of a concert in which it took part. Apparently it was devoted to the cultivation of sacred choral music. An organization known as the Musical Society was founded in Boston some time before 1786. In that year it gave a concert of 'Sacred Musick, vocal and instrumental—for the benefit and relief of the poor prisoners confined in the jail of this town.' Apparently William Selby was conductor of the society, at least during the years 1786-88, and a regular series of subscription concerts were given every season until 1790, when the society seems to have gone out of existence. There must have been other societies in Boston at the same time, for we find that the proceeds of a concert held in 1787 were to be devoted to the rebuilding of the Meeting House in Hollis Street, 'agreeably to the generous intentions of the Musical Societies in this town who have projected this concert.' Some of these may have been founded before the Musical Society.

The Stoughton Society, of which so much has been made in the histories, is of importance chiefly because it was the first society that we know of which was formed among the people and not among cultured amateurs and professional musicians. Otherwise it is of slight interest. It did nothing particularly noteworthy and we cannot even say that it was an organization of high artistic efficiency. The fact that its nucleus was a singing class of Billings is hardly an endorsement of its quality, for there is no evidence that Billings possessed any qualifications as a trainer of choruses. He was still primitive enough to include female voices in the tenor part. Nevertheless, as Deacon[Pg 99] Samuel Tolman informs us, the Stoughton Musical Society was 'large and respectable' and was 'attended with spirit.' Its fame was great throughout Massachusetts and only once was its supremacy questioned. The incident is related by Mr. Elson as follows: 'Many clergymen in following the good old fashion of "exchanging pulpits," had become familiar with the excellent church music of Stoughton, and sounded its praise abroad. The singers of the first parish of Dorchester, Massachusetts, took umbrage at this and challenged the Stoughton vocalists to a trial of skill. The gauntlet was at once taken up, and the contest took place in a large hall in Dorchester, many of the leading Bostonians coming out to witness it. The Dorchester choristers were male and female, and had the assistance of a bass viol. The Stoughton party consisted of twenty selected male voices, without instruments, led by the president of the Stoughton Musical Society, Elijah Dunbar, a man of dignified presence and of excellent voice. The Dorchester singers began with a new anthem. The Stoughtonians commenced with Jacob French's "Heavenly Vision," the author of which was their fellow townsman. When they finally sang, without books, Handel's "Hallelujah Chorus" the Dorchestrians gave up the contest and gracefully acknowledged defeat.' At least the choristers of Massachusetts were enthusiastic and sincere, and for their enthusiasm and sincerity one can forgive them many faults.

How many musical societies existed in Boston during the last years of the eighteenth century we cannot say. There seems to have been a number of them. In 1789, during the visit of Washington to Boston, 'an Oratorio or Concert of Sacred Musick' was given in which the choruses of the oratorio of Jonah were sung by the Independent Musical Society. There is no evidence of the dates at which this society began or ended its existence, but it must have been a fairly efficient organization.[Pg 100] There was no lack of competent musicians in Boston at that time, and choral singing especially seems to have been in high favor with a goodly share of the population. The society of the Sons of Apollo, which existed in 1795, was probably a vocal organization also, though we know nothing about it. Boston possessed a Philharmonic Society which was founded probably before 1799. Possibly Gottlieb Graupner, one of the most prominent figures in the early musical life of Boston, was among its founders, and it seems likely that it was identical with the Philharmonic Society which is supposed to have been founded by Graupner and his friends in 1810 or 1811. According to Mr. J. S. Dwight, author of a 'History of Music in Boston,' the Philharmonic was 'simply a social meeting, held on Saturday evenings, when, in their small way, they practised Haydn's symphonies.' This statement, however, does not square with the fact that the society gave regular concerts and was described by the musical journal, 'Euterpeiad,' as a 'useful nursery of music.' Its last concert took place in 1824 and apparently it went out of existence in that year.

During the last few years of the eighteenth and the first decades of the nineteenth centuries musical societies began to spring up in the smaller cities throughout the country. Very little information concerning them has come to light, but it is probable that research will finally disclose a surprising amount of serious musical activity in places which so far have escaped mention in our musical histories. The impression that musical culture in early America was confined to Boston, New York, Philadelphia, and Charleston has taken firm root and is confirmed by most of the evidence on the subject which has appeared. But research in American musical history has for the most part been extremely superficial and determined in its direction by preconceived impressions which are[Pg 101] wholly one-sided. Such special studies in early American musical history as have been made—those of Mr. O. G. Sonneck, for example—have exploded many longstanding fallacies and misconceptions and undoubtedly further research will clear the field of other myths now generally accepted as incontestable.

There was a St. Cæcilia Society at Newport, R. I., in 1793, and we find mention in 1797 of the anniversary meeting of the Concord Musical Society. What the nature of these societies was we can only guess. They were undoubtedly conscious attempts to organize all the music lovers of these towns into compact bodies for the better promotion and enjoyment of their favorite art. It is our conviction that dozens of such societies existed in the smaller towns throughout the country. In fact, it would seem that sometimes several societies co-existed within a very small area—at least in New England—and formed themselves into associations. We have an instance in the case of the Essex Musical Association of Massachusetts, which was founded in 1797. A copy of its constitution is preserved in the Roston Athenæum. In 1821 the 'Euterpeiad' woke up to the fact that there was a very large amount of musical activity throughout the country. 'During the last week,' it says, 'we noticed the following musical performances that were to take place in the present month of May: A concert of sacred music by the Beethoven Society at Portland (Me.), a grand concert at Augusta (Ga.), a select oratorio at Providence by the Psallion Society, a grand concert of music by the Philadelphia Musical Fund, the grand Oratorio the "Creation" by the Harmonic Society of Baltimore, a performance of sacred music by the New Hampshire Musical Society at Hanover, in Boston an instrumental and vocal concert for the benefit of Mr. Ostinelli, and a public oratorio by the Handel and Haydn Society.'

About this time there existed in Dartmouth College a Handel Society, which is notable as having been the first serious attempt by an American college to promote musical culture. It was also the last for a considerable period. Concerning this society Dr. Ritter quotes the following from a letter written to him by Dr. A. G. Brown, president of Hamilton College: 'The aims of the society were of the best. A good working library of the best musical works then attainable was procured, including such works as the "Messiah," the "Creation," The Handel and Haydn Society Collection of Anthems, the old Colony Collection, and other music of like kind. This was carefully studied by the Society, and at the regular weekly meetings carefully sung.... Members of the society were chosen after due examination, and counted it an honor to be members of the association. Ladies were admitted as honorary members. And I have never heard better church-music than from that society at some period of its existence. Its influence did not stop within the walls of the college, but was widely diffused, and continued beyond college life.' Unfortunately its influence did not continue for very long.

Building of the Handel and Haydn Society of Boston (1850)

Without doubt there were many musical societies in Boston during the early years of the nineteenth century, but, with the exception of the Philharmonic Society, we have been able to discover only the Massachusetts Musical Society, formed in 1807 'for improving the mode of performing sacred music.' It would appear that this society confined its activities exclusively to hymns, with the natural result that few members were attracted to it. It ceased to exist in 1810. Whatever other societies may have existed in Boston were completely overshadowed by the founding of the Handel and Haydn Society in 1815. This famous organization antedates several of the societies we have already mentioned, but the greater part of its career is covered [Pg 103]by a later period. We consequently defer treatment of it to the chapter dealing with these important modern societies, of which it may be said to have been the first.

W. D. D.

CHAPTER V
THE BEGINNINGS OF OPERA

Accepting the year 1750 as the earliest in which indisputable records appear of opera in New York, writers on American musical history pass over the remainder of the century with a few brief references and escape with evident relief to the arrival of García's Italian troupe in 1825.[37] This willingness to let the dust lie undisturbed on certain phases of our musical development is hardly justifiable in the present instance, for undoubtedly these writers were well aware that opera in America during the eighteenth century was not such an infrequent and sporadic thing as to deserve no extended mention. Mr. H. E. Krehbiel, in his anecdotic and entertaining 'Chapters of Opera,' writes: 'There are traces of ballad opera in America in the early decades of the eighteenth century, and there can exist no doubt at all that French and Italian operas were given in some form, perhaps, as a rule, in the adapted form which prevailed in the London theatres until far into the nineteenth century, before the year 1800, in the towns and cities of the Eastern seaboard which were in most active communication with Great Britain.'

If ballad operas were known in America in the early

[Pg 105]

decades of the eighteenth century and French and Italian operas were given before the beginning of the nineteenth, it is surely worth while to consider what part they played in the musical life of the country. The subject, of course, is bristling with difficulties. Information is scarce and not easily accessible. Much of the difficulty is due to the fact that before the nineteenth century there were no opera companies, in our sense. Operatic performances were given by regular theatrical companies whose repertory was made up partly of straight drama and partly of opera. Artistic versatility was a characteristic of the period, and performers like Mrs. Oldmixon and Miss Broadhurst were prominent not only on the dramatic and operatic stage, but also on the concert platform. Our search for the beginnings of opera, therefore, lead us naturally to early records of the American theatre, and an examination of these elucidates some interesting facts.

I

The first mention of theatrical performances in America is found in the whimsical autobiography of the mercurial Tony Aston—'Gentleman, Lawyer, Poet, Actor, Soldier, Sailor, Exciseman, Publican; in England, Scotland, Ireland, New York, East and West Jersey, Maryland, Virginia (on both sides Cheesapeek), North and South Carolina, South Florida, Bahamas, Jamaica, Hispaniola, and often a Coaster by all the same.' In the 'beginning of Queen Anne's reign,' he tells us, he arrived at Port Royal Harbor where Governor Moore was about to start on an expedition against St. Augustine. This was in September, 1702. Tony accompanied Moore and returned with him to Charleston in January, 1703. 'Well,' he says, 'we arrived in Charles-Town, full of Lice, Shame, Poverty, Nakedness[Pg 106] and Hunger:—I turned Player and Poet and wrote one Play on the Subject of the Country.' We may assume, therefore, that Charleston witnessed theatrical performances in 1703. In the same year the redoubtable Tony went to New York. 'There,' he says, 'I lighted of my old Acquaintance Jack Charlton, Fencing Master, ... after acting, writing, courting, fighting that Winter ... my kind Captain Davis ... gave me free passage for Virginia....' Apparently, then, there were theatrical performances in New York in the winter of 1703-04.

Whether these and the performances in Charleston were the beginning of the theatre in America, we cannot say, nor do we know if they included operas. Quite probably they did. The autobiography from which we have quoted prefaced the published edition of Tony Aston's 'Fool's Opera' and it has been inferred that his work was played during Aston's visit to America. As it was published several years after his return to England there is not much reason to believe that New York or Charleston heard it, but Aston's evident interest in works of the kind would indicate that he exhibited his talent in such entertainments while he was in this country. It may, however, be pointed out that opera was not in high favor in England at that time. Beginning with 'The Siege of Rhodes' in 1656 opera was the chief form of theatrical entertainment until the end of the Commonwealth. For some peculiar reason—perhaps Cromwell's love of music—it was tolerated in spite of the ban on the theatres. But after the Restoration the drama came into its own again, and with Congreve, Wycherley, Vanburgh, and others catering brilliantly to the taste of the times, opera was temporarily neglected. Interest in it revived under Queen Anne, with the coming of Handel and the Italian opera, but, except for the temporary vogue of ballad-opera, following the production of 'The Beggar's Opera' in 1728, English[Pg 107] opera failed to attract the popular favor. Indeed, it never reached a point where it deserved to attract favor. Except for a few weak efforts in the Italian recitative style English opera before the ballad opera was chiefly drama with incidental music. The idea was popular in Elizabethan times, as we may see from Shakespeare's plays. In the operas of the Commonwealth and Restoration periods the musical side was more emphasized, but the play was the thing, and there was no Shakespeare or Jonson or Marlowe or Beaumont and Fletcher to endow the thing with life.

So that whatever operatic performances may have resulted from Tony Aston's visit to America could not be of any importance, though they might be of some historical interest. One wonders if Tony's regrettable departure from these shores left America theatrically barren. Many years pass before we discover any sign of life. Then from Jones's 'Present State of Virginia,' published in London in 1724, we learn that a playhouse existed in Williamsburg, Va., at least as early as 1722. Ten years later New York saw the opening of a New Theatre in the building of a gentleman with the explosive appellation of Rip Van Dam. Its name would suggest that another theatre existed previously in New York. We cannot say what operas, if any, were given there, but probably the Gray-Pepusch 'Beggar's Opera,' Hill's 'The Devil to Pay,' and Fielding's 'Flora, or Hob in the Well,' were produced. At this period the ballad opera was enjoying its vogue in England, and fashions both on and off the English stage were faithfully copied in America. Almost until the end of the century ballad operas remained very popular in this country. They had very little in common with opera as we understand it and have no real place in the evolution of the art-form. The music rarely was written especially for them, but was arranged from existing compositions, especially from English, Irish, and Scotch folk-tunes.[Pg 108] Occasionally the 'composer' showed real skill in making his adaptations, as Dr. Pepusch did in the 'Beggar's Opera,' but more frequently still the music was singularly inept and the whole entertainment bordered closely on extravaganza.

We find that 'Flora, or Hob in the Well,' was performed at the Courtroom, Charleston, in 1735, and that the New Theatre in the same city also produced 'Flora,' as well as 'The Devil to Pay,' in 1736. New York probably was giving similar performances at the same time, but we can discover nothing definite on the subject until 1739, when we note that at Henry Holt's Long Room there was performed 'A New Pantomime Entertainment in Grotesque Characters, call'd the Adventures of Harlequin and Scaramouch, or the Spaniard Trick'd. To which will be added an Optick'—whatever that was. A company of actors appeared in Philadelphia in 1749, but their advent inspired the city magistrates to 'take the most effectual measures for suppressing the disorder.' The unfortunate artists whose presence constituted a disorder then went to New York, where they fitted up a building of the Hon. Rip Van Dam as the 'Theatre in Nassau Street.' There, in 1750 and 1751, they gave a number of operatic performances, including Fielding's 'Mock Doctor,' 'The Beggar's Opera,' 'The Devil to Pay,' Cibber's 'Damon and Philida,' Fielding's 'Virgin Unmask'd,' 'Flora,' and 'Colin and Phœbe.' In 1751 they went South and, as the New York Company of Comedians, obtained from Acting Governor Lee of Virginia permission to build a theatre in Williamsburg. They played at Fredericksburg in 1752 and in the same year, as the Company of Comedians from Virginia, opened the New Theatre in Annapolis, Md., with 'The Beggar's Opera.' They also gave the 'Virgin Unmask'd,' the 'Mock Doctor,' 'Damon and Philida,' and 'The Devil to Pay.' Then, metamorphosed into the Company of Comedians from Annapolis,[Pg 109] they appeared in upper Marlborough, where they gave 'The Beggar's Opera,' 'With Instrumental Music to each Air, given by a Set of private Gentlemen.' We have been unable to follow them further. Part of the original New York company to which they belonged remained in that city and formed the nucleus of a new company which in 1751-52 gave a number of operas at the Nassau Street Theatre, including Carey's 'Honest Yorkshireman.'

Hallam's London Company of Comedians, subsequently the American Company and later the old American Company, continued the work of supplying Americans with regular theatrical performances, including operas. We have been unable to follow their activities in detail. In 1765 New York heard the pantomime ballad 'Harlequin's Vagaries,' perhaps the 'Harlequin Faustus' of Rich, with music by Gaillard. Three years later was given Bickerstaff's 'Love in a Village,' the music adapted by Arne from his own compositions and from the works of Handel, Boyce, Howard, Baildon, Festing, Geminiani, Galuppi, Giardini, Paradies, Abos and Agus. Everything was grist to the ballad-opera mill. Bickerstaff's 'The Maid of the Mill,' with music by Dr. S. Arnold, was played in New York in 1775.

II

Theatrical activities were naturally curtailed severely during the war, but with the establishment of peace there was a great revival. After the Revolution, indeed, the popularity of the theatre became much greater and more widespread than it ever had been before. And coincident with the popularity of the theatre came the popularity of opera. Even in Boston the old prejudice against the theatres began to disappear, though the blue laws of 1750 were still in force. Several attempts were[Pg 110] made at various times to circumvent these laws by presenting operas under the guise of concerts, and the resulting performances must occasionally have been wonderfully concocted. We find an announcement in 1770 of 'A vocal entertainment of three acts. The songs (which are numerous) are taken from a new celebrated opera, call'd "Lionel and Clarissa."' An entry in the diary of John Rowe during the same year reads: 'In the evening I went to the Concert Hall to hear Mr. Joan read the Beggar's Opera and sing the songs.' In 1792 Alexander gave in Boston 'a musical entertainment called the Poor Soldier delivered,' and from that time forward the friends of opera in Boston met with no opposition, though it was long before Boston became an operatic city.

In the meantime Maria Storer was winning fame throughout the country as a ballad opera singer. Such pleasant and innocuous pieces as 'Thomas and Sally,' 'Dorcas and Squire,' and 'Lionel and Clarissa' were very popular at the time, and old favorites like the 'Beggar's Opera' and 'The Devil to Pay' held their own with a vitality that was surprising. The fact is that the American people, exhausted by the labor and suffering of the war, were in the state of mind now generally ascribed to 'the tired business man,' and the English ballad opera was just the sort of light entertainment they needed. English opera retained its popularity, especially in New York, until well into the nineteenth century; but from about the year 1790 it was forced to compete with French and Italian opera introduced by refugees from France and St. Domingo, and gradually it lost ground until eventually it disappeared completely.

Between 1789 and 1793 there were given at concerts in Philadelphia compositions by Rousseau, Dalayrac, Gluck, Paesiello, Monsigny, Sacchini, and Cimarosa, and it is not improbable that operas by these composers[Pg 111] were also given, though we find no mention of the fact. The first unquestionable record of a French or Italian opera in this country is the performance of Pergolesi's Serva Padrona, under the title of 'The Mistress and Maid,' given by a French company at Baltimore in 1790. In 1791-92 Dibdin's 'The Deserter,' adapted from Le Déserteur of Monsigny, was given in New York, and it may be of interest to note that Sheridan and Linley's 'Duenna' was given in the same season. Charleston, always an enterprising city musically, harbored a company of French comedians who arrived from St. Domingo in 1794, and enjoyed performances of operas by Rousseau, Grétry, Cimarosa, Paesiello, and other composers then popular in Europe.

In the meantime there existed a healthy rivalry between New York and Philadelphia touching the excellence of their respective operatic organizations. Wignell and Reinagle opened the New Theatre in Philadelphia in 1793 and gave especial prominence to opera. As might be expected when Reinagle was at the helm, the performances reached a high standard of artistic merit. Reinagle himself was one of the conductors and among them also was Filippo Trajetto, whom we have already met in the concert life of Boston. Mrs. Oldmixon, Miss Broadhurst and Miss Brett seem to have been the vocal stars. In New York James Hewitt, George Geilfert or Gilfert, and Francis Hodgkinson directed the musical activities of the theatre and exerted themselves strenuously to surpass Reinagle's organization. Dunlap writes in his 'History of the American Theatre': 'We have noticed the improvement made by Mr. Hodgkinson in the orchestra at New York, improvements rendered necessary by the excellence of this branch of theatrical arrangement in the rival company of Philadelphia. (The orchestra at Philadelphia, under the direction of Reinagle, who sat at the harpsichord, was much superior to that of New York.) Instead of[Pg 112] the "one Mr. Pelham" and his harpsichord, or the single fiddle of Mr. Hewlett, performers of great skill filled the bands of the two rival cities. In New York the musicians were principally French; most of these gentlemen who had seen better days,—some driven from Paris by the revolution, some of them nobles, some officers in the army of the king, others who had sought refuge from the devastation of St. Domingo.' Certainly, the debt of the United States to France is heavy in many directions.

Dr. Ritter has been at pains to compile a list of the English operas given in New York between 1793 and 1823. The former year saw Shield's 'The Farmer,' Storace's comic opera, 'No Song, No Supper,' and Dibdin's 'The Waterman.' During the season 1793-94 there were played Dibdin's 'Lionel and Clarissa,' and 'The Wedding Ring,' Arnold's 'Inkle and Yarico,' Shield's 'Poor Soldier,' 'Love in a Camp,' and 'Rosina,' 'The Beggar's Opera,' 'No Song, No Supper,' and 'The Devil to Pay.' Dibdin's 'Quaker,' Arnold's 'The Children of the Wood,' Storace's 'The Haunted Tower.' Carter's 'The Rival Candidate' and 'Macbeth' with music were given in 1794-95. In 1796 were produced 'Rosina,' 'The Children in the Wood,' 'The Maid of the Mill,' Reeve's 'The Purse,' Shield's 'Robin Hood,' 'No Song, No Supper,' 'The Haunted Tower,' 'The Surrender of Calais,' Arnold's 'The Mountaineer,' Altwood's 'The Prisoner,' 'Poor Soldier,' 'The Padlock,' and an English version of Rousseau's 'Pygmalion.' What is probably the first American opera was produced in New York on April 18 of the same year. It is called 'The Archers, or the Mountaineers of Switzerland,' and was written by Benjamin Carr to a libretto by William Dunlap. In 1796 also appeared 'Edwin and Angelina,' composed by Victor Pelissier to a libretto by one Smith. This has often been spoken of as the first American opera, but apparently it saw the light some months later than Carr's[Pg 113] work, and, in any case, Pelissier was not an American. Another opera from his pen, to a libretto by William Dunlap, called 'The Vintage,' was produced in New York in 1799—but we are anticipating.

The seasons of 1797 and 1798 seem to have been rather poor in New York. Dr. Ritter notes only Storace's 'Siege of Belgrade' and Shield's 'Fontainebleau' in the former year, and Mrs. Oldmixon in 'Inkle and Yarico' in the latter year. Nothing is mentioned for 1799 and 1800 except Pelissier's 'The Vintage' and an opera composed by Hewitt to a libretto by Dunlap. In 1801 appeared Kelly's 'Bluebeard,' Reeve and Mazzinghi's 'Paul and Virginia,' 'The Duenna,' Shield's 'Sprig of Laurel,' and Kelly's 'The Hunter of the Alps.' Then there is a hiatus until 1807 and 1808, when we find 'The Siege of Belgrade,' Dr. Arnold's 'The Review,' Kelly's 'We Fly by Night' and 'Cinderella,' 'Forty Thieves,' Storace's 'Lodoiska,' and Mazzinghi's 'The Exile.' Another famine followed until 1812 when 'Bluebeard' was produced. The years 1813-14 saw Henry Bishop's 'Athis,' 'The Farmer and His Wife,' and 'The Miller and His Men.' Between 1814 and 1819 are noted 'The Poor Soldier,' 'Love in a Village,' 'Review,' 'Siege of Belgrade,' 'Bluebeard,' 'Lodoiska,' 'The Maid of the Mill,' 'Castle of Andalusia,' 'The Beggar's Opera,' 'Lionel and Clarissa,' 'Fontainebleau,' Kelly's 'Bride of Abydos,' and 'Rob Roy.' From this time on the vogue of English opera rapidly declined and there are signs of a growing interest in Italian, French, and German opera, though New York had little opportunity of hearing such before 1825. An opera called 'The Barber of Seville,' adapted by Bishop probably from Rossini's work, was produced in 1819-20. Such adaptations seem to have been not infrequent, and it can hardly be said that there was any artistic excuse for them. A similar adaptation of Mozart's Nozze di Figaro, made by Bishop, was played in New York in 1823 and two years[Pg 114] later there was presented a mutilated version of Weber's Freischütz. It is worthy of note that John Howard Paine's 'Clari, the Maid of Milan,' containing the song 'Home, Sweet Home,' was produced in New York on November 12, 1823. The opera itself soon melted into oblivion, but the song has survived as one of the most widely popular lyrics ever composed. Other operas given in New York between 1819 and 1825 include Braham's 'English Fleet,' 'The Deserter,' Bishop's 'Henry IV,' Kelly's 'Russian,' Bishop's 'Montrose,' 'The Duenna,' and Bishop's 'Maid Marian.'

III

One turns with relief to contemporary opera in New Orleans. The preëminence of New Orleans as an operatic centre among American cities of the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries was as marked as that of New York has been in recent times, though its population was only a fraction of that possessed by New York, Philadelphia, or Boston. Of course, New Orleans really was not an American city and did not contain any considerable number of American residents until many years after the Louisiana Purchase. It was, in effect, a French provincial city with a metropolitan flavor due to its position as the head of a rich and important colony. When one remembers the notably gregarious instincts of Frenchmen and their intense and tenacious devotion to the homeland, it is easy to understand how in New Orleans they reproduced as far as possible the social and artistic conditions of Paris. The thoroughly French character of New Orleans and its life remained unchanged during the Spanish régime, and even the purchase effected no appreciable change until many years had passed. This was especially so at the opera, which even now remains a[Pg 115] thoroughly French institution, and it has been said that until after the Civil War American visitors to the opera were very rare. Indeed, opera is a form of art which has always appealed less to native Americans than to foreign-born citizens.

Information on the actual beginnings of opera in New Orleans are rather scanty, but we know that a regular troupe of French comedians and singers appeared there in 1791, and it is to be assumed that they presented operas of Grétry, Gluck, Dalayrac, Monsigny, and others, more or less efficiently. Opera, drama, and ballet in the best French manner were given at M. Croquet's Théâtre St. Philippe in 1808. Another theatre was built in St. Peter Street in 1810, and among the operas given there in that and the following year were Paesiello's 'Barber of Seville' and Zingarelli's 'Romeo and Juliet.' The arrival of John Davis in 1811 with a troupe from San Domingo marks one of the real epochs in American operatic activities. Davis built the Théâtre d'Orléans in 1813 and, when it was burned down four years later, he rebuilt it at a cost of $180,000. This new theatre was by far the finest and best appointed in America. Opera was given there three times a week by a regular opera company, and not by artists who combined opera with the spoken drama, as was customary elsewhere in America. After the death of John Davis his son Pierre conducted the theatre for twenty-five years. The glories of French opera in New Orleans during those years must await mention in a later chapter, but, remarkable as they were, they hardly surpassed the achievements of the elder Davis during a period when opera elsewhere in America offered little of interest or artistic importance. The works of Rossini, Mozart, Spontini, Méhul, Grétry, Gluck, and other of the most eminent operatic composers were given in the best manner by competent orchestras and ensembles, by distinguished conductors and soloists. Beginning with[Pg 116] García's visit in 1825, New York received frequent attentions from foreign opera companies, and soon was enjoying an operatic life which has now grown to proportions surpassed by few cities in the world, but at least half of the nineteenth century had passed away before New Orleans lost its proud position as the real home of opera in America.

W. D. D.

CHAPTER VI
OPERA IN THE UNITED STATES. PART I: NEW YORK

The vogue of English ballad opera, as we have seen, began to lose some of its hold on New York audiences during the first years of the nineteenth century. Symptomatic of an awakening desire for other forms of operatic entertainment were the adaptations of Il Barbiere di Siviglia, Le Nozze di Figaro, Der Freischütz, and similar favorites of the contemporary European stage. There existed in New York at that time a society of some brilliance, wealth, and culture—a modest replica of the upper circles of London, Paris, and Vienna. In these latter cities the opera flourished as a social function; it was one of the most important foci of fashion. Obviously New York could not remain long without such an addition to its fashionable life. Nor could English opera serve the purpose, for English opera had ceased to be the thing in London. Society had taken up Italian opera, and only Italian opera was then de rigueur. Why New York did not have Italian opera at an earlier date it is difficult to say. Possibly the field did not seem sufficiently tempting to the European entrepreneurs; possibly New York society had not yet affected that cosmopolitan air which had come to be the distinguishing mark of the socially elect elsewhere.

[Pg 118]

Whatever factors operated to keep Italian opera out of New York, the situation had altered sufficiently in 1825 to tempt Manuel García[38] over with an opera company in that year. To be sure, García was past his prime as a singer and, except for his daughter, Maria, and the basso Angrisani, his company was worse than indifferent. But his coming marked the beginning of an epoch in the operatic history of this country. He gave New Yorkers a first taste of the best in contemporary opera and inaugurated a fashion which on the whole has been productive of very brilliant results. In spite of the fact that opera is not and never has been in New York a diversion for the proletariat; in spite of the fact that it has been to a large extent a vehicle for ostentation; in spite of the fact that its conduct has not always been guided by broad artistic ideals—in spite of all these and other drawbacks New York has set for itself a standard of operatic achievement which is scarcely surpassed by any city in the world. The value of this standard in the promotion of musical culture is questionable; that it subserves the best interests of art is not certain. But at least New York must be awarded the credit of doing such operatic work as it has chosen to do in a finished and magnificent manner.

I

The foundation of this work was laid by Manuel García at the Park Theatre in 1825. This house was opened in 1798 and was rebuilt in 1820 after its destruction by fire. It was the house of English opera as well as of the spoken drama prior to the García invasion. Apparently the pièce de résistance on García's contemplated[Pg 119] program was an authentic version of Rossini's Barbiere di Siviglia, and it does not seem that he had in project anything more exacting than this and other light examples of the reigning Italian school. But in New York he ran foul of the old idealist, Lorenzo da Ponte, librettist of Mozart's Don Giovanni, Le nozze di Figaro, and Così fan tutte, now condemned to the obscure fate of a small merchant and teacher of Italian.[39] Da Ponte persuaded García to put on Don Giovanni and succeeded in obtaining the necessary reinforcements to make such a production possible. The production of Don Giovanni was really an event, but whether the people of New York accepted it as such we cannot say. García also presented Rossini's Barbiere di Siviglia, Tancredi, Il Turco in Italia, Sémiramide, and La Cenerentola, besides two operas of his own composition entitled L'Amante astuto and La Figlia dell'Aria. The beauty, art, and magnetism of the youthful Maria García made the season a success and started the fashion of operatic idols which still influences to a large extent the success or failure of that form of art. Otherwise the season was undistinguished.

García went to Mexico in 1826, but his daughter remained in New York and sang in English opera at the recently erected New York Theatre. She also sang in the choir of Grace Church—a strikingly unusual proceeding for an artist who had already won international renown. For over five years there was no more Italian opera in New York, nor was there, indeed, a regular operatic season of any kind. English ballad opera, however, again came into favor for a time and there were also performances in English of such works as Auber's Masaniello, Boieldieu's La dame blanche, [Pg 120]and Mozart's Il flauto magico—all wretched adaptations of the originals. Seemingly the operatic managers of that time had all the peculiar vices of the musical comedy producer of to-day. The scores of Mozart, Auber, Rossini and other masters were subjected to incredible mutilations, and inapt interpolations of every kind were used to catch the popular taste. If the following picture of musical life in New York is not overdrawn it certainly paints an extraordinary state of affairs. It is taken from a letter written by a visiting German musician to the Cæcilia, a musical journal of Mayence.[40]

'Here the musical situation is the following: New York has four theatres—Park Theatre, Bowery Theatre, Lafayette Theatre, and Chatham Theatre. Dramas, comedies, and spectacle pieces, also the Wolf's Glen scene from Der Freyschütz, but without singing, as melodrama, and small operettas are given. The performance of a whole opera is not to be thought of. However, they have no sufficient orchestra to do it. The orchestras are very bad indeed, as bad as it is possible to imagine, and incomplete. Sometimes they have two clarinets, which is a great deal; sometimes there is only one first instrument. Of bassoons, oboes, trumpets, and kettle drums, one never sees a sight. However, once in a while a first bassoon is employed. Oboes are totally unknown in this country. Only one oboist exists in North America and he is said to live in Baltimore.

'In spite of this incompleteness they play symphonies, and grand overtures, and if a gap occurs they think this is only of passing importance, provided it rattles away again afterward....

'Performances take place six times a week in these theatres. Sunday is a day of rest. The performances commence at half past seven, and last until twelve, [Pg 121]sometimes till one. Rope-dancers, or one who is a good clown—even if he be able to execute only tolerably well a few jumps that resemble a dance, and can make many grotesque grimaces,—or one who plays (all by himself) on the barrel-organ, cymbals, big drum, Turkish pavilion,—these are the men that help the manager to fill the treasury, and these people earn enormous sums.'

At this ebb-tide of music in New York there stood out in bold relief the venerable figure of Lorenzo da Ponte, the old idealist, the type of the world's dreamers, whose achievements are rarely recorded.

Da Ponte had a dream. It was of a permanent Italian opera in New York, with himself as poet. The dream was not realized, but it had an important influence. After five years of endeavor da Ponte succeeded in inducing a French tenor named Montressor to undertake a season of opera at the Richmond Hill Theatre. The season opened in October 6, 1832, but failed after thirty-five performances. On the whole, it would seem that the company was a very good one, and it is hard to explain its failure except on the ground that New York audiences were still lacking in the faculty of appreciation. The orchestra was supposed to be the best that had yet been heard in the city, and, fortunately for New York, most of its members settled there after the failure of the enterprise. The operas performed during Montressor's season were Rossini's Cenerentola and L'Italiani in Algieri, Bellini's Il Pirata, and Mercadante's Elisa e Claudio.

Notwithstanding Montressor's failure, da Ponte still remained undaunted. He now determined that the[Pg 122] thing really needed was an Italian opera house decked out with the same social halo as adorned the brilliant institutions of London and Vienna. He was right. The Metropolitan Opera House of to-day is just the sort of institution that da Ponte forecasted, and its success proves that the old dreamer was no bad prophet. Through his influence the Italian Opera House was built on the corner of Church and Leonard Streets at a cost of $150,000, and with the coöperation of many of the most eminent citizens. Evidently it was designed to appeal to the cream of the beau monde. We quote from the diary of Philip Hone, Esq., sometime mayor of New York:

'——The house is superb, and the decorations of the proprietors' boxes (which occupy the whole of the second tier) are in a style of magnificence which even the extravagance of Europe has not yet equalled. I have one-third of box No. 8; Peter Schermerhorn one-third; James J. Jones one-sixth; William Moore one-sixth. Our box is fitted up with great taste with light blue hangings, gilded panels and cornice, armchairs and a sofa. Some of the others have rich silk ornaments, some are painted in fresco, and each proprietor seems to have tried to outdo the rest in comfort and magnificence. The scenery is beautiful. The dome and the fronts of the boxes are painted in the most superb classical designs, and the sofa seats are exceedingly commodious.'

This resplendent institution was opened on November 18, 1833, under the joint management of da Ponte and the Chevalier Rivafinoli—the latter being, according to da Ponte, 'a daring, but imprudently daring, adventurer, whose failures in London and in Mexico and Carolina, were the sure forerunners of his failure in New York.' The season was advertised for forty nights, but there was a supplementary season of twenty-eight nights. In addition there were fifteen performances[Pg 123] given in Philadelphia. Socially and artistically the season was a distinct success, but financially it was a failure. The operas performed were Rossini's La gazza ladra, Il barbiere di Siviglia, La donna del lago, Il Turco in Italia, Cenerentola and Matilda di Shabran, Cimarosa's Il matrimonio segreto, Paccini's Gli Arabi nelli Gallie, and an opera called La casa di Pendere, by the conductor, Salvioni.

During the same season there was also a period of English opera at the Park Theatre, where 'Cinderella,' 'The Barber of Seville,' 'The Marriage of Figaro,' 'Artaxerxes,' 'Masaniello,' 'John of Paris,' 'Robert the Devil' (adapted and arranged), and other works were produced with Mr. and Mrs. Wood as principal singers. 'The house,' according to the 'American Musical Journal,' 'was crowded nightly.' The management of the Park Theatre certainly presented a much more varied and catholic program than was furnished by the Italian Opera House; but we suspect shrewdly that variety was its chief distinction.

When Rivafinoli's enterprise collapsed, the Italian Opera House was taken over by Porto and Sacchi—the latter treasurer and the former one of the singers of the Rivafinoli company. The season opened on November 10, 1834, with Bellini's La Straniera, and during its short life Rossini's Eduardo e Christina, L'Inganno felice, L'Assedio di Corinto, and Mosé in Egitto were also produced. It collapsed with the sudden disappearance of the prima donna, Signora Fanti. The Signora's defection, however, was rather the occasion than the cause of its untimely end. One is tempted to say that the Italian Opera House suffered from too much Rossini. But the real secret of its failure lay in the fact that it was not in the fashionable section of the city. The lure of art, reinforced by rich silk ornaments and paintings in fresco, by 'superb classical designs' and 'exceedingly commodious' sofa[Pg 124] seats did not prove sufficiently strong to draw society from the strictly defined path of its appointed orbit. The valorous old da Ponte pleaded eloquently, but in vain. Abyssus abyssum invocat, as he truly complained.

II

After a year of vacancy the Italian Opera House went to James W. Wallack, father of the famous John Lester Wallack, and after a year of the spoken drama it went up in smoke. For ten years Italian opera in New York was as dead as the English queen whose demise is her chief title to fame. But New York was not wholly barren of opera during those years. In 1837 came Madame Caradori-Allan from England to sing in oratorio, concert, and opera in New York, Boston, Philadelphia, and elsewhere. She gave some operas at the Park Theatre in 1838, including Balfe's 'Siege of Rochelle,' Bellini's La Sonnambula, Rossini's Il Barbiere di Siviglia, and Donizetti's Elisir d'amore, all in English. Also in 1838 a company which Dr. Ritter calls 'the Seguin combination' gave some operatic performances at the National Theatre. He tells us that Rooke's opera, 'Amalie, or the Love Test,' was performed for twelve consecutive nights before crowded houses.[41]

Noteworthy were the efforts of an English company who in 1839 gave performances of Beethoven's Fidelio, Rossini's La Cenerentola and La Gazza ladra, Bellini's La Sonnambula, Auber's Fra Diavolo, Donizetti's Elisir d'amore, and Adam's Postilion de Lonjumeau.

[Pg 125]

This was by far the choicest operatic menu that had ever been placed before New Yorkers. The performances were in English and we are not enlightened as to their quality; we know only that the venture was not a success. In 1840 the Woods returned with a season of operas in English, including La Sonnambula, Fidelio, and—sublime bathos—the 'Beggar's Opera'! Later the singer and composer, Braham, beloved of Englishmen, appeared at the Park Theatre in 'The Siege of Belgrade,' 'The Devil's Bridge,' 'The Waterman,' and 'The Cabinet.' Except for the visits of the New Orleans opera companies, of which we shall speak in another chapter, these were the only operatic treats vouchsafed to New Yorkers between the years 1834 and 1844.

In the meantime a gentleman named Ferdinand Palmo was making quite a reputation as a cook and proprietor of the Café des Mille Colonnes on Broadway, near Duane Street. Mr. Palmo suffered from that ancient delusion known as 'opera for the people,' and under its influence he spent the accumulated profits of the Mille Colonnes in remodelling Stoppani's Arcade Baths, on Chambers Street, into a popular opera house. There, in 1844, he opened a season of Italian opera with Bellini's I Puritani. Mr. Palmo was certainly determined to give New Yorkers the best that could be obtained. He had Madame Cinti-Damoreau, whom Fétis described as one of the greatest singers the world had known; he had a great tenor in Antognini, whom Richard Grant White compares as a singer to Ronconi and as an actor to Salvini; he had a very good soprano in Borghese. In addition he had an orchestra of 'thirty-two professors.' He survived the first season, but in the middle of the second the 'thirty-two professors' went on strike for their wages and the sheriff's minions descended on the box office receipts, the Mille Colonnes and everything else attachable that Mr. Palmo possessed.[Pg 126] The attempt at a democratic opera was a fine and courageous one, but the time was not ripe for such an effort.[42]

After Palmo's failure his theatre was taken over by a new company which included among its principal members Salvatore Patti and Catarina Barili, the parents of Carlotta and Adelina Patti. It had a very brief existence and in 1848 Palmo's Opera House became Burton's Theatre. In the meantime, however, New York had been enjoying an assortment of other operas, presented by various visiting companies. The most important of these was a French company from New Orleans which, in 1843, presented La fille du régiment, Lucia di Lammermoor, Norma, and Gemma di Vergy—in French, of course. There were also several English companies, notably the Seguins, who gave opera in English at the Park Theatre and elsewhere. In 1844 the Seguin company produced Balfe's 'Bohemian Girl' for the first time in America.

It has frequently been the lot of New York to be visited by Italian opera companies from Cuba, Mexico, and South America. These companies were sometimes very bad, sometimes indifferent, sometimes very good. Of the last-named category was the company brought from Havana by Señor Francesco Marty y Tollens in 1847. Señor Marty was backed in his enterprise by James H. Hackett, the actor, and William Niblo, proprietor of the famous gardens. He had a very good company, notable chiefly for the fact that its conductor was Luigi Arditi, composer of Il Bacio—the 'Maiden's Prayer' of aspiring coloraturas. A season was given at the Park Theatre, after which there were [Pg 127]a number of extra performances at Castle Garden. The repertory included Verdi's Ernani and I due Foscari, Bellini's Norma and Sonnambula, Paccini's Saffo, and Rossini's Mosé in Egitto. Señor Marty returned in 1848,1849, and 1850, with a company which Max Maretzek described as the greatest ever heard in America. The famous contrabassist, Bottesini, was musical director and Arditi remained as conductor. Among the operas performed were Verdi's Attila and Macbeth, Meyerbeer's Huguenots and Donizetti's La Favorita.

Opera in English was still given frequently but without any regularity at various theatres. Madame Anna Bishop appeared in a number of operas in 1847, and during the same year W. H. Reeves, brother of the famous Sims Reeves, made his operatic début. Among the novelties produced was Wallace's Maritana. In 1850 Madame Anna Thillon appeared in Auber's 'Crown Diamonds' at Niblo's and two years later Flotow's 'Martha' was produced.

III

In the meantime, however, New York had launched one of the greatest of operatic enterprises, a direct successor to the Italian Opera House conceived and carried out by the old dreamer da Ponte. Palmo's splendid experiment had only served to show that da Ponte was right. Democratic opera was a delusion. Opera in Italian or in any other language foreign to the mass of the people was foredoomed to failure. Only the glamour of social prestige could save it. And, just as opera needed society, so did society need opera. It was out of the question, of course, that persons of social pretensions should patronize Palmo's or Niblo's or Castle Garden or any other place geographically outside the social sphere and appealing largely to the common herd. Society is a jewel which shines only in an[Pg 128] appropriate setting. Hence one hundred and fifty gentlemen of New York's social (and financial) élite got together and guaranteed to support Italian opera in a suitable house for five years. On the strength of this guarantee Messrs. Foster, Morgan and Colles built the Astor Place Opera House, a theatre seating about 1,800 persons. 'Its principal feature,' said the slightly malicious Maretzek, 'was that everybody could see, and, what is of infinitely greater consequence, could be seen. Never, perhaps, was any theatre built that afforded a better opportunity for a display of dress.' The Astor Place Opera House was opened in 1847, with Messrs. Sanquirico and Patti, late of Palmo's, as lessees, and Rapetti as leader of the orchestra. They produced during the season Verdi's Nabucco and Ernani, Bellini's Beatrice di Tenda, Donizetti's Lucrezia Borgia, and Mercadante's Il Giuramento. In 1848 the house was taken over by E. R. Fry, an American, who brought over Max Maretzek as conductor and gathered together a fairly good company, including M. and Mme. Laborde. The operas given were Verdi's Ernani, Bellini's Norma, and Donizetti's Linda di Chamouni, Lucrezia Borgia, L'Elisir d'amore, Lucia di Lammermoor, and Roberto Devereux. Fry made a complete failure, and, judging by his list, one is impelled to say he deserved it.

In 1849 Maretzek became lessee of the house and began that chequered career as an impresario which ended only when the Metropolitan so to speak shut its newly made doors in his face. Most of his singers were taken from Fry's company, but he also had some new ones, among them the Signora Bertucca, who was included in the famous list which, according to Mr. H. E. Krehbiel, the redoubtable Max invariably checked off on his fingers when recounting his services to opera in New York. Maretzek remained at the Astor Place Opera House until 1850, and during three seasons gave Lucia, L'Elisir d'amore, Don Pasquale, Il Barbiere,[Pg 129] Rossini's Otello, I Puritani, Belisario, Ernani—the list is tiresomely familiar.[43]

In the meantime the Astor Place Opera House was leased to William Niblo, the backer of Señor Francesco Marty y Tollens. Niblo's idea in leasing the opera house was to eliminate it as a competitor. In pursuance of this idea he engaged one Signor Donetti, and his troupe of performing dogs and monkeys, whom he presented to the aristocratic patrons of the institution. The patrons obtained an injunction against Niblo on the ground that the exhibition was not respectable within the meaning of the terms upon which the house was leased. 'On the hearing to show cause for this injunction,' says Maretzek, 'Mr. Niblo called upon Donetti or some of his friends who testified that his aforesaid dogs and monkeys had in their younger days appeared before princes and princesses and kings and queens. Moreover, witnesses were called who declared under oath that the previously mentioned dogs and monkeys behaved behind the scenes more quietly and respectably than many Italian singers. This fact I feel that I am not called upon to dispute.' Thus the ambitions and exclusive Astor Place Opera House ended as a joke. The building was used later as a library.

There is a peculiar resemblance between opera houses and human beings. High hopes and ambitions mark the beginnings of both; but the corrosive influences of life's practical everyday soon tarnish the shining metal of their ideals until finally they are reduced to the dull commonplace that marks the end of all created things. And, it may be added, in the majority [Pg 130]of cases the most powerfully corrosive influence is money. An instance in point occurred in New York in 1852. It was another dream of democratic opera—or rather, democratic music—a dream of a great new institution adapted to American conditions wherein would germinate and grow to a brilliant flowering the seeds of a national musical art. Truly a beautiful dream, and one which, it might seem, should easily materialize in a country so rich, so young, so eager, so progressive. A charter was obtained from the state of New York authorizing the establishment of an 'Academy of Music for the purpose of cultivating a taste for music by concerts, operas, and other entertainments, which shall be accessible to the public at a moderate charge; by furnishing facilities for instruction in music, and by rewards of prizes for the best musical compositions.' American music-lovers were naturally gratified and Mr. D. H. Fry, a prominent musical critic, ventured to hope that it might 'yet come to pass that art, in all its verifications,' would 'be as much esteemed as politics, commerce, or the military profession. The dignity of American artists lies in their hands'—meaning, we presume, the hands of the Academy promoters.

The dignity of American artists lay in very incompetent hands—incompetent as far as the dignity of American art was concerned. The commodious new Academy was leased to Max Maretzek, who sub-leased it to J. H. Hackett, and it was opened in October, 1854, with a company headed by Grisi and Mario. The showman exploitation of great artists existed long before P. T. Barnum exhibited Jenny Lind. The appearances of Henrietta Sontag at Niblo's in La fille du régiment in 1850 and of Grisi and Mario at Castle Garden in 1854 were purely and simply showman enterprises.

In January, 1855, Ole Bull, the Norwegian violinist, took over the management of the Academy, with the earnest intention of carrying out the high purposes for[Pg 131] which it was founded. As a first step to that end he offered a prize of one thousand dollars for the 'best original grand opera, by an American composer, and upon a strictly American subject.' The phrase has become almost a formula. It is unfortunate that idealistic enterprises in America always seek to fly before they can walk. There was no American composer capable of writing an original grand opera on any subject, neither was there a public opinion cultivated enough to support such an enterprise as the Academy. Within two months of Ole Bull's announcement, 'in consequence of insuperable difficulties,' the Academy was forced to close and the original grand opera by an American composer never saw the light. The season was completed by the Lagrange company from Niblo's, managed by a committee of stockholders, with Maretzek as conductor.

III

A bright rift in the cloud that hung over operatic New York at that time was the coming to Niblo's in 1855 of a German company, with Mlle. Lehman (not, of course, the more famous Lilli Lehmann) as star. Among the operas presented were Flotow's 'Martha,' Weber's Der Freischütz, and Lortzing's Czar und Zimmermann.

In the following year the German company added Mme. Johannsen to its forces, with Carl Bergmann as conductor, and presented, among other operas, Beethoven's Fidelio. Bergmann remained as conductor for several years and did an amount of pioneer work for German opera in New York the importance of which has been curiously ignored. It may be mentioned here, though a little in advance of our narrative, that he introduced Wagner's Tannhäuser for the first time in America at the Stadt Theatre, New York, in 1859. The[Pg 132] chorus was supplied by the Arion Männergesangverein.[44]

In 1855 Maretzek produced Rossini's 'William Tell' and Verdi's Il Trovatore at the Academy. He had a good company which included the soprano Steffanone—one of Señor Marty's singers—and the tenor Brignoli, who became a great favorite with New Yorkers. A Mr. Payne opened a season of forty nights there in the fall of 1855 and in the following year Maretzek again became lessee. He soon quarrelled with the proprietors of the Academy and went to Boston. In January, 1857, Maurice Strakosch opened a season of Italian opera with an indifferent company, but in March Maretzek reappeared and set up an opposition at Niblo's. The next few seasons were marked by an amount of activity in which control of the operatic field was a consideration paramount to artistic achievement. Maretzek, Strakosch, and the latter's aide, Bernard Ullman, were the principals in an amusing campaign which, on more than one occasion, saw the rival impresarios acting as partners. Strakosch and Ullman opened the Academy season in the fall of 1857 with the fascinating Emmilia Frezzolini in La Sonnambula. Carl Anschütz, later of the Arion, was conductor. It was really a good season and, though it saw no novelties, it was redeemed from the usual hurdy-gurdy category by the production of Les Huguenots and Robert le Diable. In March, 1858, 'Leonora,' by the American composer W. H. Fry, was produced at the Academy under the bâton of Carl Anschütz.

Maretzek, in the meantime, was in Philadelphia with a company headed by the famous buffo, Roncone. In 1858 he returned to New York and opened a season at the Academy, while Strakosch took up a stand at Burton's Theatre. Ullman came from Europe in October,[Pg 133] bringing with him the saucy and winsome Maria Piccolomini, whom he advertised as a lineal descendant of Charlemagne and the great-granddaughter of Schiller's hero, Max Piccolomini. As a showman Ullman was second only to the great Barnum. Maretzek and Ullman joined hands at the Academy in the fall of 1859 and presented Adelina Patti in Lucia di Lammermoor.

For several years following there is nothing much to note. The operatic situation was summed up in the alternate quarrels and reconciliations of Maretzek, Ullman, and the brothers Maurice, Max, and Ferdinand Strakosch, all of whom at various times have taken occasion to speak of the sacrifices they made for Italian opera in New York. As a matter of fact, opera was to all of them what the green table is to the confirmed gambler. Yet they accomplished much, and, though they relied mainly on the hackneyed list of Rossini, Donizetti, and Bellini, they introduced New York opera-goers, during the sixties and seventies, to a number of novelties. Among these may be mentioned Meyerbeer's L'Africaine, Le Pardon de Ploërmel, and L'Étoile du Nord, Verdi's Aïda, Gounod's Faust, Thomas's Mignon, Wagner's Lohengrin, and the Crispino e la Comare of the Ricci brothers—all in Italian. Maurice Strakosch was responsible for the presence in America of Christine Nilsson and of Italo Campanini, both distinguished artists who held a high place for many years in the affections of New Yorkers.[45]

By far the most noteworthy operatic event of the sixties was a season of German opera given by Carl Anschütz at the old Wallack Theatre on Broadway and [Pg 134]Broome Street in 1862. The principals of the Anschütz company were mediocre, though they included Mme. Johannsen, but there was a good orchestra and a well-trained chorus. The list of operas included Mozart's Die Zauberflöte, Don Juan, and Die Entführung aus dem Serail, Beethoven's Fidelio, Weber's Freischütz, Auber's Le Maçon, and Flotow's Martha and Stradella. Unfortunately, no social glamour was attached to the enterprise, nor were the times especially propitious to it, and it soon failed.

In the seventies there was a great vogue of the Offenbach opéra bouffe, and such airy trifles as La belle Hélène and La grande duchesse occupied the public interest to the exclusion of more serious musical fare. As is usually the case in America, the interest reached the intensity of a mania and it was necessary that public curiosity be satisfied by a sight of the composer himself. Accordingly Offenbach came over in 1875. But as soon as the people had satisfied their curiosity they lost all interest in him and his tour was a complete failure.[46]

In 1876 Mlle. Teresa Tietjens came to America under the management of Max Strakosch and appeared at the Academy of Music with great success, especially in Norma and Lucrezia Borgia. Two years later a short season of opera was given at the Academy by a German company headed by Mme. Pappenheim and Charles Adams. It was far from successful, but during its brief existence New Yorkers had an opportunity of hearing Wagner's Lohengrin, Tannhäuser, Der fliegende Holländer, and Rienzi, Halévy's La Juive, and Gounod's Faust.

In 1878 Max Strakosch, with a company that included Clara Louise Kellogg and Annie Louise Cary, ignored the Academy of Music and settled down at the Booth [Pg 135]Theatre. There he gave a season of three weeks, presenting Aïda, La Traviata, and Il Trovatore. The directors of the Academy, in the meantime, turned to Colonel James H. Mapleson, one of the most famous of operatic impresarios, who, as manager of Her Majesty's Theatre and of Drury Lane, London, had for some time been engaged in a lively operatic war with Frederick and Ernest Gye at Covent Garden. Mapleson was a most astute manager and a devoted protagonist of the 'star' system. During his first season in 1878-79 he brought over a brilliant company which included Minnie Hauck, Etelka Gerster, and Italo Campanini, with Luigi Arditi as conductor. His list of operas was less impressive. The only novelty was Bizet's Carmen. On the whole, the season was moderately successful and Mapleson made a contract with the stockholders of the Academy for the seasons of 1879-80, 1880-81, and 1881-82. Nothing occurred in any of those seasons which calls for special mention. They presented the same old list of operas in the same old way. Italian opera in New York was getting into a rut and was losing its hold on the people. The Academy was becoming more and more unsuited to the growing demands of New York Society. Everything was, in fact, ripe for the inauguration of a new epoch.

IV

It must be confessed that the evolution of opera in New York has been determined more by social than by artistic factors, and a history of New York society would be almost a necessary background for a complete narrative of its operatic development. Here it is necessary to mention that the Vanderbilt ball of 1882 marked the culmination of a social revolution in New York. During the early years of the nineteenth century there was an absolute ascendancy of that social[Pg 136] element which is known by the name of Knickerbocker. It was composed, in the main, of old families with certain undeniable claims to birth, breeding, and culture. They constituted a caste which was not without distinction. But about 1840, with the rapid material development of the country, began the influx of a new element armed for assault on the social citadel with the powerful artillery of wealth. Gradually this new element widened a breach in the rampart of exclusiveness which the Knickerbocker caste had built around itself, and at the above-mentioned Vanderbilt ball the citadel finally surrendered. The effect on the operatic situation was immediate. There was not sufficient accommodation in the Academy for the newly amalgamated forces, and a box at the opera was, of course, a necessary badge of social distinction. Consequently, in 1883, the Metropolitan Opera House Company (Limited) was formed by a number of very prominent gentlemen for a purpose sufficiently indicated by its title. The very prominent gentlemen were James A. Roosevelt, George Henry Warren, Luther Kountze, George Griswold Haven, William K. Vanderbilt, William H. Tillinghast, Adrian Iselin, Robert Goelet, Joseph W. Drexel, Edward Cooper, Henry G. Marquard, George N. Curtis, and Levi P. Morton. This, financially speaking, impressive list is important because it helps us to understand the true nature of the enterprise upon which these gentlemen embarked.[47]

The Metropolitan Opera House was leased for the season of 1883 to Mr. Henry E. Abbey and was opened on October 22 with Gounod's Faust. In the cast on the opening night were Mesdames Nilsson and Scalchi and Signor Campanini, while Signor Vianesi acted as [Pg 137]musical director. The season lasted until December 22, with regular subscription performances on Monday, Wednesday, and Friday evenings and Saturday afternoons. Two performances missed from the regular subscription series were given after the return of the company from a trip to Boston on January 9 and 11. A spring season, begun on March 10, lasted until April 12. The operas given between October 22 and April 12, with order of their production, were: Gounod's Faust (in Italian), Donizetti's Lucia di Lammermoor, Verdi's Il Trovatore, Bellini's I Puritani, Thomas's Mignon, Verdi's La Traviata, Wagner's Lohengrin (in Italian), Bellini's La Sonnambula, Verdi's Rigoletto, Meyerbeer's Robert le Diable (in Italian), Rossini's Il Barbiere di Siviglia, Mozart's Don Giovanni, Boïto's Mefistofele, Ponchielli's La Gioconda, Bizet's Carmen, Thomas's 'Hamlet,' Flotow's 'Martha,' and Meyerbeer's Les Huguenots and Le Prophète. Apart from Mme. Nilsson and Signor Campanini, the principal artists engaged were Marcella Sembrich—probably the greatest coloratura soprano since Patti—who afterward became very familiar to New Yorkers; Mme. Fursch-Madi, a French contralto, who had already sung in New Orleans; and M. Capoul, French tenor, who had appeared at the Academy under Maurice Strakosch in 1871. The company gave fifty-eight performances in Brooklyn, Boston, Philadelphia, Chicago, Cincinnati, St. Louis, Washington, and Baltimore. Mr. Abbey's losses on the season have been estimated at more than $500,000. He had no ambition to undertake another one.

Colonel Mapleson, in the meantime, was holding on at the Academy, where he still retained Patti as the chief attraction, assisted by the fresh-voiced Etelka Gerster, then on the threshold of her career, Mme. Pappenheim, whom we have already met in German opera,[Pg 138] Signor Nicolini,[48] a mediocre tenor, and Signor Galassi, a good baritone.

During this season, also, there occurred under his management the American operatic début of Mrs. Norton-Gower, afterward known as Mme. Nordica. The operas performed were Bellini's La Sonnambula and Norma, Rossini's La Gazza ladra, Donizetti's L'Elisir d'amore and Linda di Chamouni, the Ricci brothers' Crispino e la Comare, Gounod's Faust, Flotow's Martha, Meyerbeer's Les Huguenots, and Verdi's La Traviata, Rigoletto and Aïda.

In 1884 Leopold Damrosch submitted to the directors of the Metropolitan a proposition for a season of German opera under his management, and, faute de mieux, the directors acceded. Dr. Damrosch secured a very strong company, including Amalia Materna, who, in Bayreuth, had created the part of Kundry in Parsifal; Marianne Brandt, also known in Bayreuth; Marie Schroeder-Hanfstängel of the Frankfort Opera, a pupil of Mme Viardot-García and the chief coloratura singer of the company; Auguste Seidl-Krauss, wife of Anton Seidl, then conductor of the Stadt Theater in Bremen, and Anton Schott, a tenor of considerable reputation in Wagnerian rôles, whose explosive methods led von Bülow to describe him as a Militärtenor—ein Artillerist. The list of operas given included Wagner's Tannhäuser, Beethoven's Fidelio, Meyerbeer's Les Huguenots, Weber's Der Freischütz, Rossini's 'William Tell,' Wagner's Lohengrin, Mozart's Don Giovanni, Meyerbeer's Le Prophète, Auber's La Muette de Portici, Verdi's Rigoletto, Halévy's La Juive, and Wagner's Die Walküre. It is not surprising that the season was a pronounced success. The receipts up to the middle of January were double those of the corresponding period in the previous[Pg 139] year, though the prices had been reduced considerably. But the season was brought to a tragic close and the cause of German opera in New York was set back many years by the unexpected death of Dr. Damrosch on February 15, 1885.

During the previous year a season of Italian opera had been given at the Star Theatre by James Barton Key and Horace McVicker with the Milan Grand Opera Company, recruited from Italian singers who had been stranded by the failure of operatic ventures in Mexico and South America. The only interesting feature of the season was the production of Il Guarany, a Spanish-American opera by Señor Gomez. Colonel Mapleson started his seventh season at the Academy on November 10, 1884. He still retained Patti and had annexed Scalchi and Fursch-Madi from Abbey's disbanded forces, but his season presented nothing of interest while it gave every evidence that his operatic reign in New York was drawing to a close. The season of 1885-86 was his last with the exception of a short attempt in 1896. He had lost Patti but he still presented a strong company, which included Alma Fohström, Minnie Hauck, and Mlle. Felia Litvinoff, better known as Madame Litvinne. The season ended in a dismal failure after twelve evening and four afternoon performances. With the exception of Carmen, Fra Diavolo, and L'Africaine there was no variation from the stereotyped program of which New York must have been intensely sick. During a short return engagement, however, Mapleson's company gave Massenet's Manon for the first time in America (Dec. 23, 1885).

A very much better showing was made by the German company, which gave a season during the same time at the Thalia Theatre under the management of Gustav Amberg and the conductorship of John Lund, a chorus master and assistant conductor under Dr. Damrosch at the Metropolitan. The repertory included[Pg 140] Der Freischütz, Adam's Le Postilion de Lonjumeau, Nicolai's Die lustigen Weiber von Windsor, Victor Nessler's Trompeter von Säkkingen, and Maillart's Les Dragons de Villars Germanized as Das Glöckchen des Eremiten. A light program, of course, but very refreshing. During the same season an American opera company made a loud attempt to do something, but it blew up with a bad odor of scandal before it went very far. Its artistic director was Theodore Thomas, and during its short existence it gave Goetz's 'Taming of the Shrew,' Gluck's Orpheus, Wagner's Lohengrin, Mozart's 'Magic Flute,' Nicolai's 'Merry Wives of Windsor,' Delibes' 'Lakmé',' Wagner's 'Flying Dutchman,' and Massé's 'Marriage of Jeanette'; Delibes' ballet 'Sylvia' was also performed. Considering this fine start, it is a very great pity the American Opera Company could not keep its head straight.

After the death of Dr. Damrosch the directors of the Metropolitan sent Edmund C. Stanton and Walter Damrosch to Europe to organize a company for a second season of German opera. The result was perhaps the finest operatic organization New York had yet seen. It included Lilli Lehmann, the greatest of all Wagnerian sopranos; Marianne Brandt, Emil Fischer, the inimitable 'Hans Sachs,' Auguste Seidl-Krauss, and Max Alvary, who set the matinee-idol fashion in operatic tenors. Anton Seidl was conductor and Walter Damrosch assistant conductor. The operas produced were Wagner's Lohengrin, Die Walküre, Tannhäuser, Die Meistersinger, and Rienzi, Meyerbeer's Der Prophet, Bizet's Carmen, Gounod's Faust, and Goldmark's Die Königin von Saba.

In the fall of 1885 there was a short season at the Academy of Music by the Angelo Grand Italian Opera Company. Angelo was a graduate of the luggage department of Mapleson's organization. His season lasted two weeks, during which he presented Verdi's[Pg 141] Luisa Miller, I Lombardi, Un Ballo in Maschera, and I due Foscari, as well as Petrella's Ione. The American Opera Company, in the meantime, had been reorganized as the National Opera Company, which, still under the directorship of Theodore Thomas, gave performances in English at the Academy, the Metropolitan, and in Brooklyn. Among the interesting features of their program were Rubinstein's Nero, Goetz's Der Widerspenstigen Zähmung, Delibes' Lakmé, and a number of ballets, including Delibes' Coppelia. In the spring of 1887 Madame Patti appeared at the Metropolitan in a 'farewell' series of six operas under the management of Henry E. Abbey. She continued to make 'farewell' appearances for over twenty years.

The most notable features of the Metropolitan season of 1886-87 were the productions of Wagner's Tristan und Isolde, Beethoven's Fidelio, Goldmark's Merlin, and Brüll's Das goldene Kreuz. Notable, also, was the appearance of Albert Niemann, histrionically the greatest of all Tristans.[49] The season of 1887-88 saw the production of Wagner's Siegfried and Götterdämmerung, besides Nessler's Der Trompeter von Säkkingen, Weber's Euryanthe, and Spontini's Ferdinand Cortez. There were two consecutive representations of the entire Ring des Nibelungen during the season of 1888-89, the only novelty being Das Rheingold. Der fliegende Holländer, Un Ballo in Maschera, Norma, and Cornelius's Der Barbier von Bagdad were added to the list in his season of 1889-90.

Outside the Metropolitan there was a season of German opera at the Thalia Theatre in 1887, the prima donna being Frau Herbert-Förster, the wife of Victor Herbert. The list of operas offered was commonplace. In 1888 the National Opera Company, without Theodore Thomas but with a distinguished tenor in Barton McGuckin, gave a short and unsuccessful season at the [Pg 142]Academy of Music. A notable event of the same year was the first performance in America of Verdi's Otello by a company brought from Italy by Italo Campanini. The enterprise failed, partly owing to the incompetence of the tenor, Marconi, who was cast for the title rôle, and partly owing to the fact that New Yorkers, for some peculiar reason, seem constitutionally incapable of appreciating Verdi in his greatest and least conventional works. Eva Tetrazzini, sister of the more famous Luisa, was the Desdemona of the occasion.

The only performance of Italian opera in New York during the season of 1888-89 was a benefit for Italo Campanini at which he appeared with Clémentine de Vère in Lucia di Lammermoor. During the season of 1889-90 some performances of opera in English were given by the Emma Juch Opera Company at Oscar Hammerstein's Harlem Opera House, which was also the scene of a short postlude to the Metropolitan season by a company conducted by Walter Damrosch and including Lilli Lehmann. The Metropolitan in the meantime was occupied by a very strong Italian company under the management of Henry E. Abbey and Maurice Grau. The company included Patti, Albani, Nordica, and Tamagno,[50] with Arditi and Romualdo Sapio as conductors. Tamagno's presence meant, of course, the production of Otello, and this was the only interesting feature of the repertory. Patti was still singing a 'farewell' in the old hurdy-gurdy list.

The season of 1890-91 proved to be the end of German opera at the Metropolitan for some years. Der fliegende Holländer, Tannhäuser, Lohengrin, the Ring operas (except Das Rheingold), Tristan und Isolde, and Die Meistersinger, Beethoven's Fidelio, Cornelius's Der Barbier von Bagdad, Bizet's Carmen, and Meyerbeer's Le Prophète, Les Huguenots, and L'Africaine[Pg 143] were chosen from the regular repertory, while the novelties were Alberto Franchetti's Asraël, Anton Smareglia's Der Vasall von Szigeth, and Diana von Solange by His Royal Highness Ernest II, duke of Saxe-Coburg-Gotha. The two first-named novelties were of slight account, while the last-named was so trivial as to lend color to the innuendos that the justly famed liberality of His Royal Highness in the matter of decorations was being exercised for the benefit of some persons not unknown at the Metropolitan.

V

For the season of 1891-92 the Metropolitan was leased to Messrs. Abbey, Schoeffel and Grau. The lessees brought together a brilliant company, including Lilli Lehmann, Emma Eames, Marie Van Zandt, Giula and Sophia Ravogli, Lillian Nordica, Emma Albani, Jean and Édouard de Reszke, and Jean Lassalle. Vianesi was conductor. Meyerbeer, Gounod, Bizet, Verdi, and the older Italians supplied the list of operas for the season, while Lohengrin, Die Meistersinger, Der fliegende Holländer, and Fidelio were given (in Italian) as a sop to the 'German element.' The only novelties were Gluck's Orfeo and Mascagni's Cavalleria rusticana, the latter having been given previously by two companies in English. A supplementary season in 1892 featured Patti in Lucia and Il Barbiere. In the same year the Metropolitan was partially destroyed by fire.

The Metropolitan Opera House Company was reorganized in 1893 as the Metropolitan Opera and Real Estate Company and made a new lease with Abbey, Schoeffel and Grau, which, through various vicissitudes, lasted until Heinrich Conried took over the reins in 1902. Abbey died in 1896 and Grau remained at the head of affairs until Conried's advent. The season[Pg 144] of 1893-4 presented nothing new except Mascagni's L'Amico Fritz, which did not make a sensation. There was, however, a sensation in the fascinating shape of Emma Calvé, whose Carmen is an imperishably piquant memory with New York opera-goers. With Nellie Melba and Pol Plançon she was the chief newcomer of the season. A supplemental season presented Massenet's Werther. Otherwise there is only to note the Carmen craze provoked by Calvé and a Faust craze induced by the coincidence of Emma Eames, Jean de Reszke, and Plançon. The latter was so pronounced as to lend point to Mr. W. J. Henderson's witty characterization of the Metropolitan as the Faustspielhaus.

Calvé did not return for the season of 1894-5 and in her place came Zélie de Lussan, whom New Yorkers refused to accept as a suitable embodiment of Mérimée's heroine. Francesco Tamagno and Victor Maurel were the other noteworthy newcomers, while Luigi Mancinelli was the principal conductor. The important event of the season was the first performance of Verdi's Falstaff, and there was a new opera, Elaine, by the Argentine composer Herman Bemberg, a distinct anti-climax.

In the meantime, there were signs that a new order of things at the Metropolitan was much desired of a large section of the New York music-loving public. The Metropolitan had practically a monopoly of opera in the city and a few serious attempts had recently been made to break that monopoly. Oscar Hammerstein and Rudolph Aronson had rushed to the front with immature performances of Cavalleria rusticana in 1891. The former, apparently, had already been inoculated with the managerial virus and in 1893 he opened his Manhattan Opera House on Broadway and Thirty-fourth Street. Moszkowski's Boabdil and Beethoven's Fidelio were the features of a season of two[Pg 145] weeks which saw the beginning and end of that particular enterprise. Some performances in English were given at the Grand Opera House, beginning in May, 1893, and in the same year the Duff Opera Company presented an English version of Gounod's Philémon et Baucis.

There was, however, a demand of which these flimsy ventures took no account, and the credit for realizing it sufficiently to take chances on it goes to Walter Damrosch and Anton Seidl. The former took advantage of the presence in New York of Amalia Materna, Anton Schott, Emil Fischer, and Conrad Behrens to give representations of Die Walküre and Götterdämmerung at the Carnegie Music Hall and the Metropolitan Opera House, respectively. Further evidence of the strong Wagnerian tendency in New York was the success of an improvised performance of Tannhäuser by the German Press Club. The next symptom of the movement was the organization of a Wagner Society to support a season of Wagner operas at the Metropolitan. Unfortunately Seidl and Damrosch were rivals and could not agree on a plan by which they might give German opera together. Damrosch was able to secure subscriptions enough to insure him against loss, and, after the close of the Metropolitan season of 1894-95, he gave seventeen performances of opera with a middling company which included Johanna Gadski, then a novice, Marie Brema, Max Alvary, and Emil Fischer. The enterprise was devoted altogether to Wagner and was an immense success. Denied the use of the Metropolitan for another season, in 1896 Damrosch established himself at the Academy of Music with a strong company which numbered among its members Milka Ternina, Katherina Klafsky, Johanna Gadski, Max Alvary, and Emil Fischer. Besides the Wagner repertory he presented Fidelio, Der Freischütz, and his own opera, 'The Scarlet Letter,' based on Hawthorne's romance[Pg 146] of that name. The second Damrosch season was a failure.

Before returning to the Metropolitan season of 1895-6 it may be mentioned that, on October 8, 1895, Sir Augustus Harris, of Covent Garden, presented at Daly's Theatre some 'beautiful music composed for the occasion' by 'Mr. Humperdinckel.' Sir Augustus was referring to Humperdinck's Hänsel und Gretel.[51] The Metropolitan season of 1895-96 was distinguished by an announcement that 'the management [had] decided to add a number of celebrated German artists and to present Wagner operas in the German language, all of which operas will be given with superior singers, equal to any who have ever been heard in the German language.' The 'number of celebrated German artists,' however, materialized into three, of whom only Marie Brema could even by poetic license be characterized as 'superior.' Calvé returned to glad the hearts of Carmen lovers, and, except for the addition of Mario Ancona, a sterling bass, the other principals remained the same as in the preceding season. Anton Seidl was conductor. Unquestionably the event of the season was Jean de Reszke's presentation of Tristan in the soft-toned vesture of bel canto. De Reszke, of course, was too great an artist to turn the character into an Italian stage lover, but he did present a vocally mellifluous Tristan and his methods have influenced all subsequent interpreters of the rôle. Two acts of Bizet's Pêcheur de Perles, Massenet's Navarraise (with Calvé), and Boïto's Mefistofele were other interesting features of the season.

In the fall of 1896 Colonel Mapleson made a short reappearance at the Academy of Music. He still retained his bad taste in choosing a répertoire, but he provided one novelty in the shape of Giordano's Andrea[Pg 147] Chénier. After the opening of the Metropolitan season he moved to Boston, where his orchestra went on strike and his American career ended forever. The loss of Mme. Nordica by disagreement and of Mme. Klafsky and Mr. Alvary by death was a handicap to the Metropolitan in the beginning of its season of 1896-97. Before the season had closed Melba injured her voice singing Brünnhilde and had to retire; Eames was compelled to undergo an operation, and Castelmary fell stricken with heart disease during a performance of Tristan und Isolde. In spite of which the season managed to run its allotted span. The only novelty was Massenet's Le Cid.

There was no Metropolitan season in 1897-98, but Walter Damrosch and Charles A. Ellis gave a series of German and Italian operas at that house in January and February, 1898, with an excellent company, which included Melba, Nordica, Gadski, Marie Mattfeld, Emil Fischer, David Bispham, and Giuseppe Campanari. In May of the same year the Milan Royal Opera Company, of La Scala, recruited chiefly from Mexico and South America, introduced New York to Puccini's La Bohème. The opera was again produced later in the year at the Casino by another Italian company and in English at the American Theatre by Henry W. Savage's Castle Square Opera Company.

Melba and Sembrich came back to the Metropolitan for the season of 1898-99 and among the newcomers were Ernestine Schumann-Heink, Suzanne Adams, Ernest Van Dyck, Albert Saleza, and Anton Van Rooy. Nordica, Eames, Lehmann, Mantelli, the brothers de Reszke, Pol Plançon, David Bispham, and Andreas Dippel were also in the company—altogether a very brilliant assemblage. The only novelty was Mancinelli's Ero e Leandro. Antonio Scotti was a newcomer in the season of 1899-1900, which was also distinguished by a visit from Ernst von Schuch, director of the[Pg 148] opera at Dresden, who conducted two performances of Lohengrin. Before the opening of the following season the Metropolitan English Grand Opera Company, promoted by Henry W. Savage and Maurice Grau, gave a series of operas in English with a tolerably good repertory and a very good list of singers. Savage's Castle Square Company had already brought forward earlier in the year a novelty in the shape of Spinelli's A basso Porto, and at the Metropolitan he produced for the first time Goring-Thomas's 'Esmeralda.'

For the season of 1900-01 Milka Ternina came to the Metropolitan and New York was introduced to Louise Homer, Lucienne Bréval, Fritzi Scheff, the inimitable and much-lamented Charles Gilibert, Imbart de la Tour, Robert Blass, and Marcel Journet. Mancinelli was still conductor. The novelties were Puccini's La Tosca and Ernest Reyer's Salammbo. Of the newcomers for 1901-02 the only one that calls for mention is Albert Reiss, whose Mime and David still delight New York Wagner lovers. Isidore de Lara's Messaline and Paderewski's Manru were the novelties, and there was also a gala performance in honor of Prince Henry of Prussia, which was one of the most elaborate displays of snobbery ever staged in America. Walter Damrosch, Signor Sepilli, and M. Flon were the conductors. Alfred Hertz came over as conductor of German opera for the season of 1902-03, and has remained a distinctly reliable asset to the Metropolitan ever since. The only novelty of that season was Ethel Smyth's Der Wald, though Verdi's Ernani and Un Ballo in Maschera had been strangers for so long that they were novelties in effect. Before the opening of the season Mascagni favored New York with a visit and produced at the Metropolitan his own operas Zanetto, Cavalleria rusticana, and Iris. His enterprise was not successful.

[Pg 149]

VI

Maurice Grau was compelled through ill health to retire from the management of the Metropolitan during the season of 1902-03 and before the opening of the next season the reins passed to Heinrich Conried, a native of Austria, who had already made an enviable reputation as manager of the German theatre in Irving Place and of various German and English comic opera companies. Conried was an excellent impresario. For his first season he annexed Enrico Caruso, Olive Fremstad, and Otto Goritz, and brought over Felix Mottl as conductor, besides retaining Sembrich, Eames, Calvé, Homer, Scotti, Plançon, Journet, Campanari, and other Grau stars. Everything else he did before or since, however, was overshadowed by his production of Parsifal on December 24, 1913. Whether his action was artistically and ethically justified or whether, as many believed, it was a violation of the sacred shrine of Bayreuth, is not a question pertinent to this narrative. But there is no doubt that his motives in staging the opera were purely commercial and the manner in which he advertised it was productive of unfortunate results which cheapened Wagner's solemn art-work beyond expression. For purposes of record it may be noted that in this first American production of Parsifal Milka Ternina was the Kundry, Alois Burgstaller the Parsifal, Anton Van Rooy the Amfortas, Robert Blass the Gurnemanz, Otto Goritz the Klingsor and Marcel Journet the Titurel. Alfred Hertz conducted. Prompted by the tremendous publicity given to Parsifal, Henry W. Savage hawked it in an English version all over the country. A much-touted novelty; a variant from the small-time vaudeville, from the eternal stock company, from eternal boredom; a cross between a church meeting and a circus! Such was Parsifal to the shirt-sleeved communities[Pg 150] of America from coast to coast. It was a sad spectacle—the saddest perhaps in the artistic annals of this country.

In his second season Conried staged a rather too elaborate production of Strauss's Die Fledermaus, which he followed up in his third season with Der Zigeunerbaron. The production of Hänsel und Gretel in the presence of the composer and the revival of Goldmark's Königin von Saba were creditable features of the third season. In 1906-07 Mr. Conried outshone himself and, whatever his motives, he stirred operatic New York then as it had perhaps never been stirred. To begin with, he produced Richard Strauss's setting of Oscar Wilde's Salome. Such a fluttering in the moral dovecotes has rarely been seen. Ever meticulously careful of its spotless purity, New York protested violently against the 'shocking exhibition' and, after the first performance, the directors of the Metropolitan issued the following notice: 'The directors of the Metropolitan Opera and Real Estate Company consider that the performance of Salome is objectionable and detrimental to the best interests of the Metropolitan Opera House. They therefore protest against any repetition of this opera.'

However, the bad taste left by Salome in the mouths of the Metropolitan Opera House patrons was presumably removed by the gala productions of Puccini's Manon Lescaut and Madama Butterfly in the presence of the composer. The former had already been given by an Italian company at Wallack's Theatre in 1898 and the latter in English by Savage's company at the Garden Theatre in 1906. Other novelties of the season were Berlioz's La Damnation de Faust and Giordano's Fedora. In the season of 1907-8 the only novelty was Francesco Cilea's Adriana Lecouvreur. The season was otherwise notable for the presence of Gustav Mahler, then conductor of the Court Opera, Vienna, who[Pg 151] gave extraordinary readings of Don Giovanni, Fidelio, Tristan und Isolde, and Die Walküre.

Conried resigned from the Metropolitan management in February, 1908. His managerial career was certainly extraordinary; he thoroughly stirred New York's turgid operatic waters. The list of artists introduced by him is a brilliant one. Besides the names already mentioned it includes Bella Alten, Lina Cavalieri, Geraldine Farrar, Marie Mattfeld, Bessie Abbott, Marie Rappold, Berta Morena, Carl Burrian, Allessandro Bonci, Riccardo Martin, and the great Russian basso, Theodore Chaliapine.

In the meantime Oscar Hammerstein, who had made various immature attempts to break into the operatic field, built a new Manhattan Opera House, which he opened in December 3, 1906, for a season of opera which closed on April 20, 1907. His high sounding promises were not taken seriously by musical New York, but the achievements of his first season changed that attitude materially. True, the list of operas brought forward is not inspiring. It included I Puritani, Rigoletto, Faust, Don Giovanni, Carmen, Aïda, Lucia di Lammermoor, Il Trovatore, La Traviata, L'Elisir d'amore, Gli Ugonotti (Les Huguenots), Il Barbiere di Siviglia, La Sonnambula, Cavalleria rusticana, Mignon, I Pagliacci, Dinorah, Un Ballo in Maschera, La Bohème, Fra Diavolo, Marta, and La Navarraise. But the significant fact is that Mr. Hammerstein had the courage to start a season of opera on an elaborate scale in opposition to the Metropolitan and without the support of 'society.' His success demonstrated the feasibility of such an enterprise and gave an impetus to the growth of public interest in opera, of which others are now reaping the benefit. He was rather unfortunate in his repertory, but he was more fortunate in his selection of artists. Among them were Melba, Calvé, Regina Pinkert, Bressler-Gianoli, Giannina Russ, Eleanora de[Pg 152] Cisneros, Allessandro Bonci, Maurice Renaud, the greatest of French baritones, Charles Dalmorès, Charles Gilibert, Mario Ancona and Vittorio Arimondi. He was additionally fortunate in securing Cleofonte Campanini as conductor.

For his second season Mr. Hammerstein added to his forces Lillian Nordica, Mary Garden, Emma Trentini, Alice Zeppilli, Ernestine Schumann-Heink, Jeanne Gerville-Réache, Giovanni Zenatello, Amadeo Bassi, Mario Sammarco, Hector Dufranne, Adamo Didur, and several others of lesser note, besides retaining his principals of the preceding season, with the exception of Calvé and Bonci. Before the season closed he also presented Luisa Tetrazzini. The first production in America of Charpentier's Louise and Debussy's Pelléas et Mélisande were notable results of a new policy which was to make the Manhattan Opera House par excellence the home of French opera in New York. Other French operas on the list for the same season were Carmen, Berlioz's La Damnation de Faust, Offenbach's Les Contes d'Hoffmann, a revival, Gounod's Faust, and Massenet's Thaïs and La Navarraise. The Italian list departed from the hackneyed a little by the inclusion of Giordano's Siberia and Andrea Chénier and of the Ricci brothers' Crispino e la Comare.

After the resignation of Mr. Conried from the Metropolitan, Giulio Gatti-Casazza and Andreas Dippel were appointed managers. The former had been director of La Scala in Milan, and the latter for several years had been a prominent and versatile member of the Metropolitan company. Apparently the design in conjoining them was to give equal representation to the Italian and German sides of the house. The results for the season 1908-9 were very pleasing and there was a good admixture of Italian and German operas, without any startling revolution in the general character of the repertory. The novelties were d'Albert's Tiefland, Smetana's[Pg 153] Die Verkaufte Braut, Catalini's La Wally, and Puccini's Le Villi, while there were revivals of Massenet's Manon, Mozart's Nozze di Figaro, and Verdi's Falstaff. The most notable addition to the Metropolitan forces was Arturo Toscanini, who came from La Scala as conductor of Italian opera. Hertz and Mahler remained as conductors of German opera, though Toscanini led performances of Götterdämmerung and Tristan und Isolde with apparent gusto and brilliant success. Among the new singers were Emmy Destinn, Frances Alda, Bernice di Pasquali, Marion Flahaut, Pasquale Amato, Adamo Didur, and Carl Jörn.

In the same season Mr. Hammerstein brought forward a number of interesting novelties, including Saint-Saëns's Samson et Dalila, Massenet's Le Jongleur de Notre Dame, and the Princesse d'Auberge of Jan Blockx. He also had the hardihood to produce Salome, and its success seems to indicate that the squeamishness of New York's moral stomach had, by some strange process, entirely disappeared. Except for Otello there was nothing else of particular interest in his list. During the season of 1909-10 he produced Strauss's Electra and Massenet's Hérodiade, Grisélidis, and Sappho. In addition he made experiments with opéra comique, presenting Maillart's Les Dragons de Villars, Planquette's Les Cloches de Corneville, Audran's La Mascotte, Donizetti's La Fille du Régiment, and Lecocq's La Fille de Madame Angot. The most notable acquisitions to his forces in this season were Madame Mazarin, a French dramatic soprano of fine talent, Lina Cavalieri, and John McCormack, the Irish lyric tenor. He no longer had the services of Campanini, his principal conductor being the Belgian de la Fuente. After the close of the season he sold out to the Metropolitan interests and entered into an agreement with them not to give grand opera in New York city for ten years.

[Pg 154]

The season of 1909-10 at the Metropolitan had a number of unusual features. The most prominent of them was the appearance of a Russian troupe of dancers headed by Anna Pavlova and Mikail Mordkin. Another departure was a series of performances at the New Theatre, a beautiful house originally designed to give drama under somewhat the same auspices as prevailed at the Metropolitan. The operas given at the New Theatre were, on the whole, works of a light and intimate character, such as Fra Diavolo, La Fille de Madame Angot, Flotow's Stradella, Lortzing's Czar und Zimmermann and Pergolesi's[?] Il Maestro di Capella. Nineteen operas, three ballets, and a pantomime were presented at this house. At the Metropolitan thirty-seven were produced, the chief novelties being Franchetti's Germania, Tschaikowsky's Pique Dame, Frederick S. Converse's 'Pipe of Desire' (the first production of an American opera at the Metropolitan), and Bruneau's L'Attaque du Moulin. There was a splendid revival of Gluck's Orfeo ed Eurydice under Toscanini.

After the close of the season Mr. Dippel left the Metropolitan to assume the direction of the Chicago-Philadelphia Opera Company, which was formed chiefly of artists from Mr. Hammerstein's disbanded forces. During the season of 1910-11 he gave a subscription series of French operas at the Metropolitan on Tuesday evenings from January to April. The novelties of the series were Victor Herbert's Natoma, Wolff-Ferrari's Il Segreto di Susanna, and Jean Nougues' Quo Vadis? The regular Metropolitan season saw the first production on any stage of Puccini's La Fanciulla del West and Humperdinck's Königskinder, in the presence of their respective composers. Dukas' Ariane et Barbe-Bleue had its American première and there was also a brilliant revival of Gluck's Armide.

The seasons of 1911-12, 1912-13, and 1913-14 at the Metropolitan have been notable chiefly for the first[Pg 155] performance in America of Horatio W. Parker's 'Mona,' which was awarded the prize offered by the Metropolitan directors for the best opera by an American composer. Thuille's Lobetanz, Wolff-Ferrari's Le Donne Curiose, Leo Blech's Versiegelt, Walter Damrosch's Cyrano de Bergerac, Victor Herbert's Madeleine, Moussorgsky's Boris Godounoff, Strauss's Rosenkavalier, Charpentier's Julien, Montemezzi's L'Amore dei tre re, and Wolf-Ferrari's L'Amore medico were the other novelties. Among the new singers engaged for those seasons were Lydia Lipkowska, Frieda Hempel, Margarete Ober, Lucrezia Bori, Margarete Matzenauer, Hermann Jadlowker, Leo Slezak, Carl Burrian, Jacques Urlus, Hermann Weil, Heinrich Hensel, and Giovanni Martinelli. During 1914-15 Melanie Kurt, Wagnerian soprano, and Elisabeth Schumann were added to the list of singers, and the novelties were Giordano's Madame Sans-Gêne and Leoni's L'Oracolo. The season's sensation was a revival of Carmen with Farrar.

In 1913 a project was launched through the initiative of the City Club of New York to establish a regular stock opera company which would provide good opera at popular prices. The project was supported by the Metropolitan directors—especially by Otto H. Kahn, chairman of the board—and a guarantee was secured sufficient to cover any deficit which the company might suffer in the beginning. As there was considerable doubt whether New York would support opera in English it was decided to make the experiment of giving operas in their original language and in English on different nights. Messrs. Milton and Sargent Aborn were entrusted with the management of the new enterprise and they were assisted materially by the coöperation of the Metropolitan in the matter of scenery and other accessories. The company was selected on the[Pg 156] principle of securing a good, well-balanced ensemble and avoiding any approach to the 'star' system.

Rarely has an operatic enterprise been launched under more favorable auspices. It had the enthusiastic and unanimous endorsement of the press, the lively interest of the public, the backing of many of the wealthiest and most influential men in New York, as well as the quasi-official support of the city itself through the City Club. Finally, it was installed in the beautiful Century (formerly New) Theatre. Naturally, its first season was to a large extent an experiment and there was every reason to suppose that the faults disclosed would quickly be remedied. But the Century enterprise quickly succeeded in proving two very important facts, viz., that there is in New York a large public eager for good opera at popular prices and that this public wants opera in the English language.

The season was not far advanced before it became apparent that what we may call the Opera-in-English nights were more extensively patronized than the performances of operas in their original language, and the management accordingly reduced the performances in a foreign language to one a week. The success of the enterprise was sufficiently indicated by the public demand which was so unexpectedly great—especially for the cheaper seats—that after the close of the season the capacity of the house had to be increased to 1,800 seats.

The répertoire of the Century Opera Company during its first season included Aïda, La Gioconda, 'Tales of Hoffmann,' Il Trovatore, Thaïs, Louise, Faust, La Tosca, Lucia, 'Samson and Delilah,' 'Madam Butterfly,' 'The Bohemian Girl,' 'Romeo and Juliet,' Rigoletto, 'Haensel and Gretel,' Cavalleria rusticana, Pagliacci, Manon, Lohengrin, 'The Secret of Suzanne,' 'The Jewels of the Madonna,' Tiefland, 'Martha,' and 'Natoma.' The conductors were Alfred Szendrei and Carlo Nicosia. For[Pg 157] its season of 1914-15 the Century considerably strengthened its forces, and particularly the orchestra, and it added a number of experienced singers to its roll. Most of its artists, it may be remarked, were Americans. The new conductors were Agide Jacchia, late of the Montreal Opera Company, and Ernst Knoch, who was formerly assistant to Richter, Bolling and others at Bayreuth. Jacques Coini, probably the most artistic stage director New York has had in connection with opera, was engaged in that capacity by the Century Company. The répertoire was largely that of the first season with the addition of La Bohème, 'Carmen,' and 'William Tell.' Of the entire list, ten were chosen by popular vote. Altogether the quality of the performances was considerably improved, most of the crudities of the first season being eliminated. But financially the enterprise, like all preceding efforts in the same direction, was not successful and the general support did not warrant the continuance of Mr. Kahn's subsidy, and consequently performances were suspended in the spring of 1915. Some sort of revival of the enterprise is devoutly to be hoped for.

W. D. D.

CHAPTER VII
OPERA IN THE UNITED STATES. PART II

I

During the greater part of the nineteenth century New York was unquestionably the metropolis of opera in America, and to trace operatic performances outside that city is a complicated and difficult undertaking. Generally speaking, other cities obtained their opera by grace of visiting companies from New York and, on the whole, that grace was not abundant. Exception must be made in the case of New Orleans and San Francisco. The latter city never enjoyed what might be called a permanent operatic institution such as was familiar to New York from the days of da Ponte, but it had the advantage of frequent visits from opera troupes on their way to and from Mexico.

The first opera given in San Francisco, as far as we can discover, was Ernani, which was produced by George Lover in 1853. Later, attempts to establish Italian opera there were made by Lanzoni and Lamperti. In 1857 Signor and Signora Bianchi gave a season with a very good company and in opposition to another company brought together by Thomas Maguire. Those were the days of flowing gold in California,[Pg 159] when the raw yellow metal was thrown on the stage in moments of enthusiastic appreciation. It cannot be said that artistic conditions were ideal. Madame Anna Bishop was in San Francisco in 1858-59, but she seems to have taken part only in operatic concerts. A Spanish opera company and a company known as the Bianchi Troupe appeared at the old Metropolitan Theatre in the early sixties, producing Norma, La Sonnambula, La Favorita, Belisario, Linda di Chamouni, Ernani, Nabucco, Il Trovatore, and other works of the same type. La Traviata was produced at a benefit for Signora Brambilla in 1866 and three years later Parepa Rosa appeared in Don Pasquale. In 1870 there were three opera companies playing San Francisco at about the same time. Alice Oates' Popular Opera Bouffe Company gave La Périchole, Petit Duke, La Fille de Madame Angot, and Giroflé-Girofla with great success, while similar works were presented by a French company with Marie Aimée. At the Bijou Theatre Campobello's troupe gave Il Barbiere di Siviglia, La Favorita, and other compositions of the same school. In the same year Theodor Wachtel, the famous coachman tenor, appeared—presumably in Le Postillon de Lonjumeau—and Mme. Mez Fabbri also gave a series of operas.

For several years following we can find no definite information about opera in San Francisco beyond the fact that Mme. Zeiss-Dennis, the famous contralto, made operatic appearances during the early seventies. In 1876-77 Marie Rose, Annie Louise Cary, and Clara Louise Kellogg gave English representations of Carmen and Die Zauberflöte, and in 1878 the two last-named appeared in a season of opera at the Baldwin Theatre. At the same theatre earlier in the latter year Catherine Lewis sang in opéra bouffe of the Giroflé-Girofla type. The redoubtable Colonel Mapleson brought Her Majesty's Opera Company to San Francisco in 1881, and in the following year the Emma Juch Opera Company[Pg 160] gave a season at Baldwin's Theatre. Mme. Eugénie Pappenheim, whom we have already met in New York, appeared with the German and Italian Opera Company in 1884, and in 1884-85 there was a season of light opera at the Tivoli Theatre, among the operas produced being 'Little Red Riding Hood,' Boccaccio, and 'H. M. S. Pinafore.' The appearances of Etelka Gerster, Adelina Patti, and Emma Abbott were other features of operatic life in San Francisco in 1884.

From this time on San Francisco enjoyed opera in large quantity and of occasionally high quality. Light opera was especially in evidence, with the Tivoli Theatre as its favorite home. Offenbach's 'The Georgians,' as well as Lucia di Lammermoor, 'Martha,' 'Cinderella,' 'The Mikado,' 'Nanon,' 'Nell Gwynne,' 'Olivette,' 'The Three Guardsmen,' and 'Princess Ida' were produced in 1885. In the same year Amalia Materna, Emma Nevada, and Sofia Scalchi made their San Francisco débuts. The ill-fated National Opera Company and Emma Abbott's troupe were the chief purveyors of opera in 1887. The latter remained for a few years. In 1889 came Paston and Canteli's Madrid Spanish Opera Company, which produced Il grand Mogul, La Mascota, Galatea, Il Ballo in Maschera, Il Trovatore, and La Zaroule. Tamagno in Otello was the most noteworthy event of 1890, and 1891 is remarkable for the appearance of a Jewish opera troupe which gave operas in the Jewish language. There is nothing particular to record for the years 1892, 1893, 1894, and 1895. The presence of the Tavery Opera Company was the chief event of 1896, while in 1897 the predominant feature was the appearance of Puccini's Opera Company in La Bohème, La Traviata, Cavalleria rusticana, Faust, and other works.

The subsequent history of opera in San Francisco is chiefly the recital of visits by opera troupes from various quarters. Apart from the Emma Abbott Opera[Pg 161] Company, which was more or less a fixture, there has been no permanent operatic organization there; but San Francisco is an eager supporter of opera and has never lacked a generous supply of it. Comic opera has been especially well supported and the Tivoli Theatre has perhaps seen more of that form of entertainment than any other house in the United States.

II

In New Orleans during the first half of the nineteenth century opera flourished with a brilliance unknown elsewhere in America. The Louisiana city was, as we have pointed out, an American Paris, and the best operatic artists of the French capital appeared there in works selected from the current Parisian répertoire. The opera house was the centre of social, artistic, and musical New Orleans. It was an institution with a tradition and an atmosphere. The brilliant and cultured Creole society lent to it the glamour which only society can give, but it was not dependent upon social support in the same sense as the successive New York opera houses were dependent on such support. It was a popular institution; it was an integral part of the life of the city; it was a source at once of pride and pleasure to the humblest citizen. And to a certain extent it remains so still.

The father of opera in New Orleans, as we have already pointed out, was John Davis, who built the Théâtre d'Orléans in 1816. This theatre was remodeled in 1845 and was destroyed by fire in 1866. Its glory, however, had departed several years previous to the latter date and had passed over to the New French Opera House, erected by the New Orleans Opera-House Association in 1859. The moving spirit in the new enterprise was M. Boudousquie, who became its manager. M.[Pg 162] Parlange tried a season of opera at the Théâtre d'Orléans in 1859-60, but without success, and the old house then fell into disuse. Its history, however, had been a brilliant one. For over forty years it had maintained a standard of artistic excellence unsurpassed in America and not far below that of the best European opera houses. Its ensembles, both vocal and instrumental, were exceptionally good—notably so, indeed, in a period when operatic stars were too conspicuously in the ascendant. True, its repertory was never remarkable either for its novelty or for its eclecticism. But that was a fault only too common to opera houses both here and abroad during the first half of the nineteenth century. The list of operas presented at the Théâtre d'Orléans between 1825 and 1860 would be too long to quote here, but it may be mentioned that during that time New Orleans heard the following operas for the first time: Le Barbier de Séville, La Maette de Portici, Fra Diavolo, Robert le Diable, L'Éclair (Halévy), Sémiramide, Les Huguenots, La Sonnambula, Zanetta (Auber), Lucia di Lammermoor, La Esmeralda (Prévost), Beatrice di Tenda, Il Furioso, L'Elisir d'Amore, Norma, Guillaume Tell, La Favorita, La Fille du Régiment, La Juive, Lucrecia Borgia, I Puritani (in Italian), Belisario (in Italian), La Reine de Chypre, Der Freischütz, Les Martyrs, Charles VI (Halévy), Jérusalem (Verdi), Le Prophète, Le Caïd (Thomas), Les Deux Foscari, Les Montenégrins (Limmander), La Gazza Ladra, Tancredi, Othello (Rossini), Moses (Rossini), Don Giovanni, Marguérite d'Anjou (Meyerbeer), La Vestale (Spontini), L'Étoile du Nord, Il Trovatore, Ernani, Jaguarita (Halévy), Martha and Rigoletto. Of these Il Furioso, L'Elisir d'Amore, Les Martyrs and Le Prophète were given for the first time in America.

M. Boudousquie opened the New Orleans Opera House with a brilliant company which included Mathieu (tenor), Melchisedes (baritone), Genebrel (basso), and[Pg 163] Feitlinger (soprano). He presented Le Pardon de Ploërmel for the first time in New Orleans and put on a number of operas already familiar to the city, including Rigoletto, with the novice Patti in the rôle of Gilda. The war naturally killed all operatic activities for the time being. Subsequently the New Orleans Opera House was reopened with a strolling company managed by the Alhaiza brothers. In 1866 a splendid company gathered together by the Alhaizas in France was drowned on the voyage to America in the wreck of the Evening Star. A surviving brother opened with an Italian troupe, and since then the New Orleans Opera House has continued its functions, with occasional interruptions, per varios casus per tot discrimina rerum. Italian, German and English companies have been heard there from time to time, but on the whole it has remained a thoroughly French house directed by French managers and presenting opera in the French tongue. Its principal artists have been selected from among the best on the contemporary French stage and have included many singers of world-wide reputation. For years it has been the custom of the house to change its singers every season, and on that account it would be impossible to enumerate here the list of distinguished artists who have appeared on its boards. Mention may be made, however, of such well-known names as Devoyed, Durnestre, Ambre, Tournie, Levelli, Pical, Michat, Orlius, Etelka Gerster, Fursch-Madi, Paulin, Baux, Mounier, Deo, Feodor, Albers and Maurice Renaud. The following operas have been given in New Orleans for the first time from 1866 to 1914, inclusive: Crispino e la Comare, Faust, Un Ballo in Maschera, Petrella's Ione, Linda di Chamouni, L'Africaine, Gounod's Romeo et Juliette, Donizetti's Don Sebastian, Der fliegende Holländer, Lohengrin (in Italian), Fidelio (in Italian), Tannhäuser (in Italian), Aïda, Carmen, Mefistofele (in Italian), Paul et Virginie, Mireille (in[Pg 164] Italian), Les Petits Mousquetaires (first time in America), Planquette's Rip Van Winkle, Gounod's Le Tribut de Zamora (first time in America), Thomas's Le Songe d'une nuit d'eté, Lalo's Le roi d'Ys (first time in America), Le Cid, Sigurd (first time in America), Cavalleria rusticana (in English), Hérodiade (first time in America), Samson et Dalila (first time in America), Lakmé, Esclarmonde (first time in America), Manon, Les Pécheurs de Perles, Werther (first time in America), Salvayre's Richard III (first time in America), Die Walküre (in German), Siegfried (in German), Tristan und Isolde (in German), Die Götterdämmerung (in German), La Navarraise, Benvenuto Cellini, I Pagliacci, La Reine de Saba (first time in America), Reyer's Salammbo (first time in America), Godard's La Vivandière, La Vie de Bohême, La Giaconda, Cendrillon (first time in America), Messaline, Verdi's Otello (in English), Tosca (in English), Parsifal (in German), Siberia (first time in America), L'Amico Fritz, Cilea's Adrienne Lecouvreur (first time in America), Madam Butterfly (in English), Fedora (in Italian), Louise, Le Jongleur de Notre Dame, Hänsel und Gretel, Thaïs, L'Attaque du Moulin, Leroux's Le Chemineau (first time in America), Don Quichotte (first time in America), Quo Vadis, Sappho, Saint-Saëns' Phryne, and Bizet's L'Arlésienne (first time in America).

III

Historically the French opera in New Orleans is of great importance for its influence on the operatic development of other cities. This is especially true of Philadelphia, which was introduced to opera by the New Orleans organization in 1827. Philadelphia, of course, was already familiar with the English ballad opera and it had heard a diluted English version of[Pg 165] Der Freischütz in 1825, but of opera in its real sense it was still quite innocent. The New Orleans company which appeared at the Chestnut Street Theatre in 1827 returned each succeeding season until 1834. The following list of operas produced by them may be of interest: Le petit Chaperon rouge, Joconde, Robin des Bois (Der Freischütz), Azema, La Dame blanche, Le Maçon, Werther, Thérèse, Rendezvous bourgeois, Le Solitaire, La fète du village voisin, Adolphe et Clare, Les voitures versées, Les Visitandines, Le nouveau seigneur de village, Cendrillon, Les Folles amoureuses, Aline, Moses in Egypt, La Vestale, Jean de Paris, Trente ans de la vie d'un joueur, Fiorella, La Fiancée, Gulistan, La Caravane de Cairo, La Dame du lac, Le Calife de Bagdad, Comte Ory, La Muette de Portici, Fra Diavolo, Guillaume Tell, Le Barbier de Séville, La Clochette, La Gazza Ladra, Le Petit Matelot, La pie Voleuse, La Jeune Prude, Zampa, Jean, Rossignol, Le Philtre, La Tour de Nesle. The Montressor Troupe, an Italian company, appeared at the Chestnut Street Theatre in 1833 and gave Philadelphia its first taste of Italian opera, presenting Il Pirata, Italiani in Algieri, La Cenerentola, Rossini's Otello, and Mercadante's Elisa e Claudio.

The proximity of New York insured frequent visits of opera companies from that city, and it may be said without exaggeration that from this time forward New York was almost exclusively the source of supply for opera in Philadelphia. So much is this so that to follow the history of opera in the former city is practically to follow it in the latter, except that New York was a base and Philadelphia a visiting point. Opera in English by the Woods was a feature of the Philadelphia season in 1843 and, in the following year, the Rivafinoli Opera Troupe, which we have already met in New York, gave a season of ten nights. Cimarosa's Matrimonio segreto was the most interesting of their offerings.[Pg 166] More opera in English by the Woods, the Seguins, Caradori-Allan, Fanny Elssler, and others occupied musical Philadelphia until 1845, the only break being a short season in 1843 by an Italian company which presented Norma, Lucia di Lammermoor, Belisario, I Puritani, and Gemma di Vergy. The New Orleans company reappeared in 1845 with La Favorite, La Fille du régiment, Robert le diable, Le Domino noir, La Muette de Portici, L'Ambassadrice, La Juive, and Les Huguenots.

The Havana troupe, which we met in New York, regaled Philadelphia in 1847 with Pacini's Saffo, Verdi's Ernani, I Lombardi and Due Foscari, with Bettini's Romeo e Giuletta, with La Sonnambula, Mosé in Egitto, Norma, and Linda di Chamouni. The Seguins still continued to give opera in English. Sanquirico and Patti brought their company from New York in 1848, without setting the Delaware on fire, though they included Don Giovanni in their extended répertoire. They remained in Philadelphia until 1851, when the Havana troupe appeared with a splendid company, including Bosio, Bertucca, Salvi, and Marini. The only novelty produced by the Havana company was Don Pasquale, but their performances were artistically the finest that had been heard in Philadelphia. In 1852 the Seguins produced Verdi's Luisa Miller for the first time in America. Both Albani and Sontag appeared in Philadelphia in 1853 with the old Rossini-Bellini-Donizetti program, and a similar repertory secured the appearances of Grisi and Mario in 1855. Il Trovatore was heard in 1856 with Brignoli and Anna La Grange. Opera in English still continued under various auspices.

An event in the operatic history of Philadelphia was the opening in 1857 of the Academy of Music, which continued to be the home of opera in that city until Oscar Hammerstein built his Philadelphia Opera House in 1908. It was erected by a company promoted and[Pg 167] organized by most of the wealthy and socially prominent residents of Philadelphia. The first year of its existence was rendered interesting by the visit of a German company headed by Mme. Johannsen, which gave Der Freischütz, Fidelio, Auber's Le Maçon, and Lortzing's Czar und Zimmermann. There was Italian opera of the usual sort aplenty in that and the succeeding year. The winsome Piccolomini made her Philadelphia début in 1859 and additional variety was introduced into the same year by the production of Le Nozze di Figaro, Don Giovanni, Pergolesi's La Serva Padrona, Meyerbeer's Les Huguenots and Robert le diable, Verdi's I Vespri Siciliani, and Mozart's Die Zauberflöte. Ronconi, Carl Formes (somewhat passé), and Adelina Patti-Strakosch were the most notable artists—apart from Piccolomini. A French company gave Offenbach's La Chatte Métamorphosée and other comic operas in 1860 and the following year saw the first production in Philadelphia of Verdi's Un Ballo in Maschera and Massé's Les Noces de Jeanette. Meyerbeer's Dinorah was a novelty of 1862.

The German company with Madame Johannsen reappeared in 1863 and 1864, and to musical Philadelphia it must have come like the first breeze of autumn after a parching summer. Its répertoire included Martha, Der Freischütz, Le Maçon, Kreutzer's Nachtlager in Granada, Fidelio, Die Zauberflöte, Lortzing's Der Wildschütz, Boieldieu's Jean de Paris, Flotow's Stradella, Mozart's Die Entführung aus dem Serail, and Le Nozze di Figaro, Méhul's Joseph, Adam's Le Postillon de Lonjumeau, Nicolai's Die lustigen Weiber von Windsor, Spohr's Jessonda, Gounod's Mireille, as well as Don Giovanni, Faust, and Tannhäuser. At least seven of these were complete novelties to Philadelphia. The Italians continued in force with Clara Louise Kellogg, Bellini, Zucchi, and others. Petrella's Ione was a novelty of 1863 and in 1864 'Notre Dame of Paris,'[Pg 168] by the American composer W. H. Fry, was produced under the leadership of Theodore Thomas. In 1865 La Forza del Destino appeared and in 1866 L'Africaine, Crispino e la Comare, and L'Étoile du Nord.

Balfe's 'The Rose of Castile,' Auber's La Fiancée, Eichberg's 'Doctor of Alcantara,' Wallace's 'Maritana,' and other works were given in English by Ritching's troupe in 1866 and 1867. Indeed, opera in English persisted in Philadelphia as it has done nowhere else in America. Italian opera continued on its usual course from year to year without any achievements of special note. In 1868 and again in 1873, 1875, and 1879 there was an epidemic of opéra comique during which Philadelphia heard La Grande Duchesse, La Belle Hélène, Barbe-Bleue, La Périchole, Orphée aux Enfers, Les Bavards, Monsieur Chaufleuri, Géneviève de Brabant, L'Œil Crève, Fleur de Thé, La Vie Parisienne, Le Petit Faust, Les Cent Vierges, La Fille de Madame Angot, and other works of that type. The first performance of Gounod's Romeo et Juliette in 1868, Le Prophète in 1869, Bristow's 'Rip Van Winkle' in 1870, Thomas's Mignon and Hamlet in 1872, Verdi's Aïda in 1873, Lohengrin in 1874, Der fliegende Holländer in 1877, Rienzi and Carmen in 1878, and Boïto's Mefistofele in 1881 may also be worthy of notice. During those years Strakosch and Mapleson were the chief purveyors of opera to Philadelphia, excepting, of course, the French troupes who were so generous of opéra comique novelties. In 1882 the Boston Ideal Opera Company, of which we shall have something to say later, appeared at the Walnut Street Theatre presenting Fatinitza, 'The Pirates of Penzance,' 'The Mascot,' Olivette, 'Czar and Carpenter,' 'H. M. S. Pinafore,' and 'The Chimes of Normandy.' The Emma Abbott Grand English Opera Company appeared in the same year, as did Maurice Grau's French Opera Company.

[Pg 169]

From this time on Philadelphia was supplied with opera chiefly from the Metropolitan in New York until Mr. Hammerstein built his Philadelphia Opera House there in 1908 and presented the same attractions as were heard at the Manhattan. After he sold out to the Metropolitan interests the Chicago-Philadelphia Opera Company, of which we shall speak later, catered to the operatic demands of the Quaker city.

IV

Chicago, in spite of—or perhaps because of—its phenomenally rapid growth, has only recently become an operatic city of any importance. But one must not conclude that opera was unknown there before the unlucky Mr. Hammerstein was compelled to forego the organization which his genius had created and which formed the nucleus of the Chicago Opera Company. Chicago, indeed, became acquainted with opera while yet it was a city only in futuro, and it continued to enjoy opera with more or less regularity during all the succeeding years, though it lacked a permanent organization of its own until fate and Mr. Hammerstein conspired to supply one.

The beginning of grand opera in Chicago has been traced by Mr. Karleton Hackett, and his record of it furnishes interesting and rather amusing reading.[52] Chicago in 1850 had a population of about 28,000 people and a theatre built and managed by J. B. Rice. Mr. Rice was enterprising and an important result of his enterprise is noticed in the Chicago 'Journal' of July 27, 1850, as follows: 'Mr. Rice, ever ready to minister to the tastes of the public, has effected an engagement with an opera troupe of acknowledged reputation who will make their first appearance on Monday evening.

[Pg 170]

Among them are Mr. Manners and Miss Brienti, names already familiar to many of our readers. This is a new feat in theatrical entertainments and one which should meet with distinguished favor.'

Two nights later La Sonnambula formally introduced Chicago to the 'new feat in theatrical entertainments.' As an example of musical criticism in its simplest terms we quote the following from the 'Journal': 'An excellent house welcomed the Opera Troupe to the Chicago boards last evening and La Somnambula (!) was performed as announced. Whatever may be the taste of the theatre-going public in this city with regard to Operas, all must conceed (!) that the music was of a high order, and executed with admirable grace and skill. Miss Brienti's face is eloquent in her favor, to begin with, and her voice, now as soft as a vesper bell, now wild and shrill as a clarion, doubles and completes the charm. Messrs. Manvers and Quibel both possess voices of tone, power and cultivation, and with Miss Brienti and Miss Mathews make melody and harmony that Apollo would not hesitate to accompany upon his ocean-tuned harp.'

The second performance of La Sonnambula was interrupted by a fire which burned down Mr. Rice's theatre. The enterprising manager, however, erected a 'new and splendid establishment' which was opened early in 1851. Two years later Signor Poliani, 'acting in the name and on behalf of Mme. de Vries and Signor L. Arditi,' announced performances at the Chicago Theatre of 'the opera in three acts, Lucia di Lammermoor, the chef d'œuvre of Donizetti, and the grand masterpiece of Bellini, Norma.' In addition to Mme. de Vries and Signori Pezzolini, Toffanelli and Colletti, there was 'a very effective chorus of ladies and gentlemen—the best in the United States of America and desirable even in Europe.' The orchestra, furthermore, was 'composed of solo performers, and all professors of the[Pg 171] highest standing—over 40 in number, the whole under the magic direction of the most distinguished master and composer, Sig. L. Arditi, of European fame and well known as one of the greatest living composers.' One is not surprised to learn that this marvellous company made a great hit and remained in Chicago long enough to give La Sonnambula. It was succeeded by a troupe of 'acting monkeys, dogs, and goats.'

In 1858 Chicago had its next operatic treat when the New Orleans English Opera Company—which assuredly did not come from New Orleans—gave a season of two weeks, presenting La Sonnambula, 'Daughter of the Regiment,' Auber's 'Crown Diamonds,' and Fra Diavolo, 'The Barber of Seville,' 'The Bohemian Girl,' 'Cinderella,' Der Freischütz, and Il Trovatore. The tenor rôles were sung by a lady. In the same year Carl Formes, whose reputation had outlived his voice, appeared with a strong company which carried no less than three conductors—the same being Carl Anschütz, Carl Bergmann, and Theodore Thomas. Maurice Strakosch with Amalia Patti, Brignoli, and the others of his troupe visited Chicago in 1859, giving Il Trovatore, Martha, Norma, La Sonnambula, La Favorita, and Don Giovanni—the last-named with a 'cast which has never been excelled in any opera house in Europe, New York, Boston, or Philadelphia.'

From this time forward Chicago was supplied with opera almost exclusively from New York and was included in the itinerary of the tour with which nearly every New York company began or finished its season. The visits of the New York companies to Chicago varied in length from a week to four weeks. After Mr. Hammerstein sold out to the Metropolitan interests his forces formed the nucleus of a newly organized Chicago-Philadelphia Opera Company, which, under the management of Mr. Andreas Dippel and subsequently of Mr. Cleofonte Campanini, has since given Chicago[Pg 172] regular seasons of opera rivalling in the standard of their achievement those given at the Metropolitan in New York.

The Chicago-Philadelphia company has divided its season between the two cities after which it is named, besides making post-season trips to a number of Western cities. During the few years of its existence it has placed to its credit a number of notable achievements, including the first performances in America of Jean Nougues' Quo Vadis?; Ermano Wolf-Ferrari's Il Segreto di Susanna and Le Giojie della Madonna; Victor Herbert's Natoma; Goldmark's 'Cricket on the Hearth' (in English), Massenet's Cendrillon and Don Quichotte, and Franchetti's Cristoforo Colombo. Its regular repertory has been mainly that which prevailed at the Manhattan Opera House under Hammerstein. The same is true of most of its singers. Among the more notable additions to its list of artists have been Jeanne Korolewicz, Maggie Teyte, Caroline White, Lillian Grenville, Mario Guardabassi and Tito Ruffo, and it has also enjoyed frequent 'visits' from stars of the Metropolitan and Boston Opera Houses, with both of which it is closely affiliated.

Boston, like most other American cities, has been until recently in the position of depending chiefly on New York for its operatic fare. It was the latest of the large Eastern cities to become acquainted with grand opera, having been introduced to that form of entertainment by the Havana company of Señor Marty y Torrens in 1847. Satisfied apparently with what was supplied to it from New York, it initiated no noteworthy operatic enterprises of its own until 1909, when the Boston Opera House was built through the munificence of Mr. Eben D. Jordan. The artistic direction of the new enterprise was placed in the hands of Mr. Henry Russell, who for some years previously had toured the country successfully with his San Carlo Opera Company.[Pg 173] Since then Boston has been an operatic city of importance. In addition to excellent performances of the regular French, Italian, and German repertory made familiar by the Metropolitan and Manhattan companies, it has heard the first performances in America of Debussy's L'Enfant Prodigue, Raoul Laparra's La Habañera, Frederick Converse's 'The Sacrifice,' Zan-donai's Conchita, Erlanger's Noël, Kienzl's Kuhreigen, Bizet's Djamileh, Louis Aubert's Forêt Bleue, and Henri Fevrier's Monna Vanna.

The Boston Opera Company is very closely affiliated with the Metropolitan and the principals of each are carried on the roster of the other. To a lesser extent there is a like exchange between the Boston and the Chicago-Philadelphia companies. Almong the more notable artists who have sung with the Boston company (excluding those belonging principally to the Metropolitan company) may be mentioned Carmen Mélis, Georgette Le Blanc-Maeterlinck, Leon Sibiriakoff, José Mardones, Florencio Constantino, Giovanni Zenatello, George Baklanoff, Lucien Muratore, Vanni Marcoux, and Eduardo Ferrari-Fontana.

It would be impossible, within the limits of a chapter, to follow operatic activities in other cities of the United States. Nearly every city of importance has received more or less regular visits from the big New York companies, from the Chicago-Philadelphia company, and from lesser enterprises organized for touring purposes. There would be little point in citing a list of these enterprises, but mention may be made of the opera companies promoted by Henry W. Savage and the Aborns, which have done for the smaller cities of the United States what the Carl Rosa and Moody-Manners companies have done for the principal cities of Great Britain.

In many of the more progressive musical cities—such as San Francisco, Los Angeles, Minneapolis, and Cincinnati—the question of permanent operatic establishments[Pg 174] has been strongly mooted, and undoubtedly the time is fast approaching when these and other cities will enjoy the advantages which now belong only to New York, Boston, Chicago, Philadelphia, and New Orleans.

V

The line of demarcation between grand opera and comic opera is not easy to trace. Both have run together with a promiscuity which makes it very difficult to follow the history of one as distinguished from that of the other. Le Nozze di Figaro and Il Barbiere di Siviglia go hand in hand with Fidelio and Norma; Die Meistersinger is a companion of Tristan. The convenient tendency to spread the generic name of opera over all forms of musico-dramatic expression is found in all countries and periods. It is particularly noticeable in America, where even the dignified Metropolitan Opera House found it consistent to conjoin Die Fledermaus and Der Zigeunerbaron with Parsifal and Salome.

In our general survey of opera in America we have touched on the comic opera activities which went on more or less in association with grand opera, and it only remains for us to refer briefly to the activities of such companies as devoted themselves exclusively to the lighter form of entertainment. The first of these, of course, were the French companies from New Orleans who familiarized the country with Pergolesi, Rousseau, Piccini, Cimarosa, Méhul, Grétry, Dalayrac, Boieldieu, Auber, and other masters of the light opera. Apart from the companies playing English ballad opera—a distinct genre—these were the only troupes of note which presented exclusively the lighter side of operatic art until late in the nineteenth century.

The real era of comic opera in America began about[Pg 175] 1870 and lasted for somewhat less than twenty years. The first notable event of this period was the importation of Miss Emily Soldene and company—then the rage of London—by Messrs. Grau and Chizzola. They opened a season of opéra bouffe in English at the Lyceum Theatre, New York, in November, 1874, and played to crowded houses for several months, presenting Généviève de Brabant, Chilperic, La Fille de Madame Angot, and Madame l'Archiduc. Afterward they visited Philadelphia, Brooklyn, Boston—'beautiful, bald-headed Boston,' as Miss Soldene called it—Washington, Baltimore, Cincinnati, Chicago, Louisville, St. Louis, Houston, Galveston, and New Orleans. In 1875 Madame Aimée arrived with her French opéra bouffe company, also under the management of Messrs. Grau and Chizzola, and soon afterward came the Offenbach craze and the ill-starred visit of the composer.

Next came the vogue of the Gilbert and Sullivan operas, with very fortunate results for America. The manager of the Boston Theatre was then engaged in a desperate and unsuccessful hunt for novelties and, in the extremity of his need, he appealed to his musical director. 'See here,' said the latter, 'this "Pinafore" that everybody is crazy about has been already done to death in many ways—but has it been really sung? Never! Well, then, why not get Phillips and Whitney and Barnabee and Tom Karl together and see what the piece is like, musically.'[53] The suggestion appealed to the manager and it was agreed that the proposed cast would be ideal. Hence the formation of the company known as the Boston Ideals, which produced 'Pinafore' on April 14, 1879. For all-round artistic excellence nothing like that performance had ever been given by an English-speaking company in America, nor did any opera company ever make such a success in this country as was achieved by the Boston Ideals.

[Pg 176]

Miss Soldene's troupe, it is true, was a tremendous rage, but she is frank enough to confess that its success was not exactly a triumph of pure art. Setting a precedent for all managers of musical comedy, she selected a chorus with a minimum of voice and a maximum of personal pulchritude. She was rewarded by liberal patronage from the sort of men who know the difference between a chorus girl and a show girl. The Boston Ideals, on the other hand, were a splendidly talented and efficient organization, containing some of the finest artists America had produced and inspired with a sincere enthusiasm for their work. During the six years following the production of 'Pinafore' they played 'The Sorcerer,' Boccaccio, Olivette, 'The Mascot,' 'Czar and Carpenter,' 'Bohemian Girl,' 'Chimes of Normandy,' 'The Musketeers,' 'Pirates of Penzance,' 'Patience,' 'Marriage of Figaro,' Fra Diavolo, 'The Weathercock' (their only failure), Giroflé-Girofla, Barbe-Bleue, 'Martha,' Fanchonette, Giralda, L'Elisir d'Amore, and 'Visit of the Blue Stocking.'

Subsequently the company was reorganized and, at the suggestion of Colonel Henry Watterson, was christened 'The Bostonians.' Under its new name the company lived for twenty-five years, surviving by considerable length the popularity of comic opera in America. Among the works it produced were 'The Poachers,' 'Dorothy,' Don Pasquale, Don Quixote, Mignon, 'Pygmalion and Galatea,' 'Robin Hood,' 'The Knickerbockers,' 'The Ogalallas,' 'Prince Ananias,' 'In Mexico, or a War-time Wedding,' 'The Serenade,' 'Rip Van Winkle,' 'Maid Marian,' 'Rob Roy,' 'Vice Roy,' 'The Smugglers,' 'Maid of Plymouth,' and 'Queen of Laughter.' Of these the most successful by far was De Koven's 'Robin Hood,' which the Bostonians played for twelve years without dimming the freshness of that most delightful of American light operas. Not the least valuable of the services rendered to music by the Bostonians was the[Pg 177] opportunity they gave to young American singers. 'The Bostonians,' said Henry Clay Barnabee, 'gave the United States the most successful school for operatic study that this country has ever had, and from its ranks graduated an astonishing number of well-known singers. No other organization has done more, if as much, toward assisting American writers of opera.' A list of the well-known graduates of the Bostonians would be too long to quote, but among the familiar names may be mentioned Marie Stone, Alice Nielsen, Grace Van Studdiford, Jessie Bartlett Davis, Marcia Van Dresser, Kate Condon, Tom Karl, Joseph Sheehan, George B. Frothingham, Eugene Cowles, Allan Hinckley, and W. H. MacDonald, besides the inimitable comedian—Barnabee. The company, of course, devoted its efforts largely to Boston, New York, and other Eastern cities, but it made frequent tours west of the Mississippi, playing every city of importance between that river and the Pacific Coast.

In New York the chief purveyor of comic opera during the seventies was Maurice Grau, who had brought over Emily Soldene and Mme. Aimée and who continued to import European favorites, including the Offenbach operetta queen, Madame Théo. Rudolph Aronson, who had done some successful experimenting in concert direction, next came forward with an original scheme for a combined theatre, concert hall, restaurant, and roof garden—an American adaptation of such European institutions as the Ambassadeurs, Kroll's Garten, and the Volksgarten. With the backing of nearly all the socially and financially prominent gentlemen in New York he formed the New York Casino Company and built the Casino, a Mauresque structure which is as much in place on Broadway as Independence Hall would be in Algiers. With the operetta company of John A. McCaull, taken over from the Bijou Opera House, the Casino opened in October, 1882, presenting Johann[Pg 178] Strauss's 'The Queen's Lace Handkerchief.' After a very successful run this operetta was taken off to make room for the Maurice Grau French Opera Company headed by Madame Théo, which gave La Jolie Parfumeuse, Romeo et Juliette, Paul et Virginie, La Fille de Madame Angot, and La Mascotte. The McCaull Opera Company, with Lillian Russell, then returned to the Casino, presenting 'The Sorcerer,' 'The Princess of Trebizond,' 'The Queen's Lace Handkerchief,' 'Prinz Methusalem,' 'The Beggar Student,' 'Merry War,' 'Polly,' 'Billie Taylor,' 'Nanon,' 'Amorita,' 'Gypsy Baron,' 'Erminie,' 'The Marquis,' 'Madelon,' 'Nadjy,' 'The Yeomen of the Guard,' 'The Brigands,' 'The Drum Major,' 'The Grand Duchess,' 'The Brazilian,' 'Madame Angot,' 'Poor Jonathan,' 'Apollo,' 'Indigo,' 'The Tyrolean,' Cavalleria rusticana, 'Uncle Celestin,' 'Child of Fortune,' 'The Vice-Admiral,' and 'The Rainmaker of Syria.' This company had become known in the meantime as the Casino Comic Opera Company. In 1886 it went on tour, playing Boston, Philadelphia, and Brooklyn, while the Casino was occupied by the Violet Cameron Opera Company from London. The latter presented 'The Commodore' and 'Kenilworth' with little success. In 1892 Mr. Aronson decided to change the policy of the Casino and to produce there lighter works of the best French and German operatic schools. While he was in Europe the directors of the Casino decided to turn the house into a music hall on the style of the Empire and the Alhambra in London.

By this time, however, comic opera had lost its hold on the fickle affections of the American people and frequent efforts to revive interest in it since then have met with no more than the success of a temporary curiosity. Much of the decline in the popularity of comic opera was due to the rise of the English musical comedy, beginning with 'Florodora' and 'The Belle of New York.' Except for occasional excursions into Orientalism, like[Pg 179] 'The Geisha' and 'San Toy,' musical comedy rapidly ran into a set type of 'girl' show invariably characterized by inanity of plot, mediocrity of text and music, and a lavish display of feminine charms. For a time the success of Lehàr's 'Merry Widow' induced a vogue of Viennese light opera, of which traces still exist, and occasional revivals de luxe of 'Erminie,' 'Robin Hood,' and the Gilbert and Sullivan operas aroused temporary interest. But since the old Casino days there has been no public in New York for comic opera and in that respect the fashion of New York has been followed by the rest of the country. No comic opera which has come before the public on its own merits and without the support of some such stimulus as the 'Soul Kiss' waltzes of the new Viennese school, has been able to win any measure of success. An instance may be cited in the complete failure of 'Veronique.' Attempts to reach a public educated above the musical attractions of the ordinary theatres have been no more fruitful. Oscar Hammerstein made a gallant and costly effort with French comic opera at the Manhattan and the Metropolitan followed his good example more eclectically at the New Theatre (now the Century). In neither case was New York interested. Even when the indomitable and persevering Mr. Hammerstein shifted to Broadway and to the vernacular, his productions of 'Hans the Flute Player' and 'The Firefly,' flavored with the sauce piquante of Emma Trentini, failed to stimulate a lasting appetite in the New York theatre-goers. Andreas Dippel opened a series of comic opera productions in the season of 1914-15. How far and how successfully his plans will mature remains to be seen. But so far the lethargy of the public toward comic opera has triumphantly resisted every attempt to rouse it and the prospects of the enterprising impresario in that field are far from encouraging. The trouble seems to lie deeper than mere indifference to a particular[Pg 180] genre of musical entertainment. It is presumably symptomatic of a general apathy toward good music, or rather of a general lack of intelligent æsthetic appreciation. That the faculty of intelligent æsthetic appreciation is somewhat rudimentary in the average American of to-day is a fact that the unbiased observer can hardly escape.

W. D. D.

CHAPTER VIII
INSTRUMENTAL ORGANIZATIONS IN THE UNITED STATES

I

In spite of the work done by the Euterpean Society, the Musical Fund and the Sacred Music Society, New York in the first decades of the nineteenth century did not possess an orchestral organization capable of interpreting adequately the compositions of the great masters. As we have already pointed out, the city was suffering from musical expansion when it really needed concentration. It was suffering also from too much amateurism. Many clear-headed New York musicians realized the needs of the situation and eventually there arose a healthy agitation in favor of a strong permanent orchestra of professional musicians. The agitation found an energetic leader in Uriah C. Hill, conductor of the Sacred Music Society, and chiefly through his efforts the Philharmonic Society was formed in 1842. In many respects the Philharmonic differed from all the societies which preceded and most of those which have followed it in America. It was simply a coöperative association of professional musicians organized for the purpose of giving concerts of[Pg 182] the highest class. Amateurs were excluded and the society enjoyed neither patronage nor guarantee. Its first concert took place at the old Apollo Rooms on December 7, 1842, with Beethoven's Fifth Symphony as the pièce de résistance. The list of symphonies performed by it during the first ten years of its existence illustrates the consistence with which it carried out its dignified purpose. Among them were Beethoven's Second, Third, Fourth, Sixth, Seventh, Eighth, and Ninth; Mozart's 'Jupiter,' G minor and E flat; Haydn's Third and B flat; Mendelssohn's Third and Fourth; Schubert's C major; Schumann's First; Spohr's D minor, Die Weihe der Töne and Double Symphony; Kalliwoda's First; Gade's in C; and Lachner's Prize Symphony. Among the other interesting features of its early seasons were Mendelssohn's 'Fingal's Cave,' Sterndale Bennett's 'The Naiads,' and Berlioz's Francs Juges overtures.

But the Philharmonic, in spite of its splendid efforts, failed to win unanimous endorsement from musical New York and in 1854 there was a revolt of several of its own members, headed by G. Bristow and by Fry, musical critic of the 'Tribune.' The grievance was that the Philharmonic had made 'a systematic effort for the extinction of American music.' Mr. Bristow was especially wroth. During the eleven years of its existence, he complained, the society had played only one piece of American composition, preferring to devote itself to the works of German masters, 'especially if they be dead'—meaning Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Schubert, and others. By these and similar remarks we may gauge the mental calibre of Mr. Bristow. Whatever grain of justice may have been in the movement which he headed, it could not possibly succeed under his leadership and, after threatening for a time the very existence of the Philharmonic, the American revolution petered out. It was not the last[Pg 183] time, however, that the society suffered from the pernicious activity of stupid and bigoted incompetents.

The orchestra of the Philharmonic during its first season numbered fifty-three performers, divided as follows: seventeen violins, five violas, four violoncellos, five contrabasses, three flutes, one piccolo, two oboes, two clarinets, three bassoons, four horns, two trumpets, four trombones, and one pair of kettle drums. In the beginning there was no permanent conductor, but at different times between 1842 and 1849 the orchestra was led by Uriah C. Hill, H. C. Timms, W. Alpers, G. Loder, L. Wiegers, D. G. Etienne, and A. Boucher. Theodore Eisfeld was conductor from 1849 to 1855 and from the latter year until 1866 he alternated with Carl Bergmann. From 1866 until 1876 Bergmann was sole conductor and his services to music in New York during those years were of the highest value. He was especially instrumental in bringing before New Yorkers the compositions of Liszt, Wagner, Raff, Rubinstein, and the romanticists generally. Dr. Leopold Damrosch conducted the orchestra in 1876-77, and then came Theodore Thomas, who signalized his entrance by performing the First Symphony of Brahms. Thomas probably did more to cultivate the taste of New York concert goers than any other orchestral conductor who ever worked in that city. Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms, over and over again, formed the burden of his musical message, and for variety Tschaikowsky, Wagner, Liszt, and Rubinstein. He was an idealist—an uncompromising idealist—and, as he would not descend to the concert-going public, the concert-going public perforce ascended to him. His work was of incalculable value. In 1891 he was succeeded by Anton Seidl, another big figure and the best possible successor of Thomas. Seidl was more tolerant than Thomas and more modern in spirit. He laid less emphasis on the classics and more on Liszt, Wagner, and Tschaikowsky.[Pg 184] And he was much more generous of novelties, which included the first performance anywhere of Dvořák's 'New World' symphony. Admirably did he build on the solid foundation his predecessor had laid. After his death in 1898 Emil Paur succeeded to the bâton and reigned until 1902, when Walter Damrosch conducted for a season. Then for three years the society presented a series of guest conductors, including Édouard Colonne, Wassili Safonoff, Gustav Kogel, Henry Wood, Victor Herbert, William Mengelberg, Max Fiedler, Ernest Kunwald, Fritz Steinbach, Richard Strauss, Felix Weingartner, and Karl Panger. Safonoff was then engaged for three years and after him came Gustav Mahler, one of the greatest and most individual conductors of recent times. Mahler's interpretations and technical innovations stirred musical New York to its depths and aroused a storm of critical commentary both favorable and otherwise. His sudden resignation in 1911 was wrapped in a cloud of mystery, not free from a black tinge of scandal, the onus of which, however, did not rest upon him. He was succeeded by Josef Stransky, who still remains (1915).

In 1912 the Philharmonic was the fortunate recipient of a bequest of $500,000 from Joseph Pulitzer, late owner and editor of the New York 'World.' Under the conditions of this bequest the society was reorganized from a coöperative association into a membership corporation. The results in many ways have been advantageous. While the coöperative idea had some good features, it had the great drawback that in unprofitable seasons the members sought more lucrative engagements, with a consequent reduction of rehearsals and loss of homogeneity in the work of the orchestra. Under the new system a stricter discipline is possible and in consequence the orchestra shows a great improvement in technique.

The Philharmonic Society of New York, with Joseph Stransky conducting.

From a photograph (1914) taken in Carnegie Hall, New York

The Philharmonic, of course, was never long without a rival in New York. Brooklyn made the first serious effort at competition when its own Philharmonic was established in 1857 with Theodore Eisfeld as conductor. During its initiatory season it produced Beethoven's Third and Seventh Symphonies, Mendelssohn's Fourth, and Gade's C Major. Carl Bergmann succeeded Eisfeld and after him came Theodore Thomas. The early history of the Brooklyn Philharmonic was brilliant with achievement and promise, but unfortunately that achievement was not sustained nor that promise fulfilled. The indefatigable Theodore Thomas maintained a lively rivalry with the New York Philharmonic off and on between 1864 and 1879. He gave annual series of what he called symphony soirées, and for a few years he also gave garden concerts in summer. In 1879 he went west as director of the newly established Cincinnati College of Music, but two years later he returned as conductor of the Philharmonic.

Meanwhile Dr. Leopold Damrosch in 1878 founded the Symphony Society of New York with the avowed purpose of breaking away from the established conservatism of the Philharmonic and exploring newer fields of musical composition. Dr. Damrosch conducted the orchestra until his death in 1885, when he was succeeded by his son Walter. At first the society gave only twelve concerts yearly but its activities gradually increased until it was giving about one hundred—its average for the last ten years. These include extended tours throughout the United States and Canada. The career of the Symphony Society has not been without vicissitudes. For many years after the death of Dr. Damrosch it had to fight a discouraging struggle against lack of interest and of financial backing. In 1899 Walter Damrosch retired from the fight and devoted himself to composition; but in the following year he went to the Metropolitan as conductor of German opera, and apparently the experience revived his ambitions as a[Pg 186] conductor. After he retired from the Metropolitan he succeeded in obtaining a subsidy for the Symphony Society from a number of prominent New York citizens. Since then the fortunes of the organization have been in the ascendant and they were definitely assured in the spring of 1914 when its president, Mr. H. H. Flagler, announced 'that in order to further its artistic aims, he was prepared for the future to defray any deficit of the society up to the amount of one hundred thousand dollars annually.'

Though the prime purpose of the New York Symphony is to produce important novelties, it has always rested its program on the foundation of the classics. Dr. Damrosch was a devoted lover of Beethoven, and it was entirely in accordance with his ideals that the society, in 1907, gave the first Beethoven festival in America. Many of the symphonic works of Brahms, Tschaikowsky, Sibelius, and Elgar were given their first performances in America by the Symphony Society and the first Brahms festival in this country was given by it in 1912. As if to complete the society's identification with the trio of immortal 'B's,' Mr. Damrosch has shown lately a large devotion to the works of Bach. Since 1907 the society has given much attention to the modern French school and has introduced New York to many compositions of Debussy, Dukas, Enesco, Chausson, and Ravel.

The popularity of 'guest' conductors, due to the experiment of the Philharmonic Society, led Mr. Damrosch in 1905-06 to hand over the bâton for several concerts to Felix Weingartner; but, as Mr. Henderson says, Weingartner's 'refined scholarship and intellectual subtlety escaped the notice of all save the connoisseurs' and his engagement failed to arouse much public interest. Except for this brief interim Mr. Damrosch has been the society's only conductor since 1885. In addition to its regular activities the orchestra[Pg 187] is employed to play the programs of the Young People's Symphony Concerts given originally under the conductorship of Frank Damrosch but latterly under that of Walter. These concerts were planned as an educational series for juveniles, but they have come to make a much wider appeal and attract audiences which consist more of adults than of children. Their educational value is considerable.

Of even broader educational value, perhaps, is the work of the People's Symphony Orchestra, conducted by Franz X. Arens—though it is handicapped by lack of sufficient endowment. The object of the orchestra is to provide good music for working people of small means, and it would seem that such an object is sufficiently laudable to attract generous support from those wealthy music-lovers who profess a sincere interest in the promotion of the art. In spite of handicaps the People's Symphony has existed since 1900, but insufficient funds have spelled little rehearsal and few concerts, with a consequent circumscribing of its efforts.

When musical cultivation in any community reaches a certain stage it tends to specialize. That stage has long been passed in New York and during recent years there has been a notable outcrop of societies devoted to the study and performance of the compositions of different nations, periods or schools. In the symphonic field the most notable of these is the Russian Symphony Society, founded in 1903. The orchestra, under the direction of Modest Altschuler, is composed largely of Russian musicians and is devoted almost exclusively to the performance of works by Russian composers. Since its foundation it has introduced New York to new compositions by Tschaikowsky, Glinka, Napravnik, Rimsky-Korsakoff, Glazounoff, Rubinstein, Ippolitoff-Ivanoff, Davydoff, Gretchaninoff, Taneieff, Moussorgsky, Arensky, Borodine, Kallinnikoff, Rachmaninoff,[Pg 188] Dargomijsky, Afanasyeff, César Cui, Glière, Scriabine, Balakireff, and others.

There remains to be mentioned the Volpe Symphony Orchestra founded by Arnold Volpe in 1904, the Italian Symphony Orchestra, formed in 1913 by Pietro Floridia, and a number of temporary orchestras got together for special purposes, such as park concerts. For several years New York has maintained a high standard in its open air free concerts in Central Park. These have been so extensively patronized that it has been found desirable to give as many as seven a week, from June to September.

II

Until the last quarter of the nineteenth century Boston lagged considerably behind New York in the matter of orchestral music. After the demise of the Boston Philharmonic Orchestra in 1824 the city was without any permanent symphonic organization until 1840, when the Academy of Music established an orchestra. During its existence of seven years the Academy orchestra varied in size from twenty-five to forty performers, many of whom were amateurs. It introduced to Boston most of the standard symphonies and some other works of importance, but its ambition seems to have been greater than its ability. It was succeeded in 1847 by the Musical Fund Society, founded in imitation of the Philadelphia society of that name, by Thomas Comer. Comer leaned emphatically to the popular in music and there was little value to the performances of the Musical Fund until George J. Webb took over the leadership during the last few years of the society's life, which ended in 1855. In the meantime Boston had been enjoying good music through the agency of the Germania Orchestra, a body of young[Pg 189] German musicians who had come to America during the revolutionary troubles of 1848. The Germania was a travelling orchestra, but it gave a large proportion of its concerts in Boston. Its conductors were successively Carl Lenschow and Carl Bergmann and there seems to be little doubt that it was by far the best orchestra America had yet heard.

In 1855 Carl Zerrahn, flute player of the Germania, founded an orchestra which became known as the Philharmonic and which gave regular concerts in Boston until 1863. He was invited, in 1866, to the conductorship of the orchestra newly formed by the Harvard Musical Association. This was really the first permanent orchestra of value that greater Boston possessed, and during the twenty years of its existence it clung with remarkable consistency to the highest musical ideals. Included in the works performed by it were the nine Beethoven symphonies; twelve Haydn and six Mozart symphonies, Spohr's Die Weihe der Töne; Schubert's B minor (unfinished) and C major; Mendelssohn's 'Italian,' 'Scotch,' and 'Reformation'; the four symphonies of Schumann; Gade's First, Second, Third, and Fourth; two of Raff and two of Brahms; Rubinstein's 'Ocean'; Berlioz's Fantastique; the Second of Saint-Saëns; two of Paine; one of Ritter; Liszt's symphonic poems, Tasso and Les Préludes; Lachner's first suite and Raff's suite in C; Spohr's Irdisches und Göttliches for double orchestra; and overtures by Gluck, Mozart, Beethoven, Mendelssohn, Cherubini, Schubert, Weber, Schumann, Gade, Bennett, Bargiel, Buck, Goldmark, Paine, Chadwick, Parker, Henschel, Rietz, and others. Nevertheless the Harvard Orchestra did not receive very warm support from the people of Boston. Among musicians, too, there grew up gradually a certain impatience at its undoubted conservatism and finally a rival was[Pg 190] started which was organized as the Philharmonic Society in 1880.

There was not room enough in Boston for two orchestras, but there was room and need for one good orchestra which would cater fully to the city's musical tastes. Such an orchestra needs a sponsor in the shape of heavy financial backing and the deus ex machina in this case was Henry L. Higginson, the banker, who founded the Boston Symphony Orchestra at his own risk and guaranteed its permanency. Under the leadership of George Henschel the orchestra opened its first season in 1881 with Beethoven's 'Dedication of the House.' It gave twenty concerts that season and twenty-six in the third season. Since then the regular number has been twenty-four, in addition to public rehearsals. Regular visits are made to New York, Philadelphia, Washington, Providence, and other large cities, bringing the total number of concerts each season to the neighborhood of one hundred.

George Henschel returned to Europe in 1884 and Wilhelm Gericke came over from Vienna as conductor. To Gericke must be awarded the chief credit for making the Boston Symphony Orchestra what it is to-day—the finest in America and one of the most perfectly balanced and finished symphonic ensembles in the world. Gericke was a disciplinarian of the most rigid type and under his iron rule practically all the technical weaknesses of the orchestra were eliminated. Musically, like Theodore Thomas, he was an ardent devotee of Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms, and he was more concerned with strictly traditional interpretations of the classics than with incursions into new and untried fields. Just as Thomas in New York had an ideally suitable successor in Anton Seidl, so Gericke had an ideally suitable successor in that remarkable orchestral virtuoso, Arthur Nikisch. Perhaps musical America has never known anything like the four seasons[Pg 191] during which the temperamental and fiery Nikisch performed on the perfect instrument which Gericke had left to his hand. He was succeeded by Emil Paur, a decided modernist in his tendencies, who made Boston familiar with Tschaikowsky, Richard Strauss, and lesser post-Wagnerians. Gericke returned in 1898 and in the following year Symphony Hall was built. Max Fiedler was the next conductor, and after him came the present incumbent of the post—the scholarly and immaculate Dr. Karl Muck.

III

When Theodore Thomas left the New York Philharmonic he accepted the musical directorship of the American Opera Company, to which we have already referred in a previous chapter. When he got back to New York after an absence of two seasons he attempted to revive his old orchestral organization, in spite of the fact that there were three competing orchestras in the field. His attempt was a dismal failure and he found himself stranded without money, engagements or prospects. At this ebb-tide of his affairs he met Mr. C. N. Fay, of Chicago, who inquired whether he would be willing to go to that city if he were given a permanent orchestra. 'Oh,' said Thomas, 'I'd go to hell if you would give me a permanent orchestra.' So he went to Chicago.

Before the fire of 1871 Chicago had an orchestra of its own, conducted by Hans Balatka. Then it was without one until Mr. Fay issued his invitation to Theodore Thomas in 1890. Fay succeeded in getting fifty men to guarantee $1,000 each for a season and formed the Orchestra Association. After taking a year in which to organize his players, Thomas started the career of the orchestra that bears his name in 1891. A most instructive essay might be written upon the succession[Pg 192] of difficulties, financial and other, which the Theodore Thomas Orchestra was compelled to surmount before it reached the position of solid permanency which it now occupies. That it did surmount those difficulties is due chiefly to the iron obstinacy of Thomas himself and to the persistent optimism of Mr. Bryan Lathrop, who steered the enterprise through many critical situations. Shortly before his death on January 4, 1905, Thomas succeeded in realizing his desire to secure for the orchestra a home of its own. Had he failed in that object it is quite probable that the orchestra would have been disbanded after his death, but in succeeding he raised the orchestra to the position of an institution in which Chicago has since taken an increasingly great pride.

Thomas was succeeded in the conductorship by Frederick A. Stock, who still holds the post. We have had occasion to point out before that Thomas was very fortunate in his successors. In Chicago, as elsewhere, his conservatism held him more or less closely to the classics and his interpretations of these established a high and dignified standard which was of incalculable value in educating the public taste. Accepting this standard as his own, Mr. Stock ventured gradually into new paths and, while still maintaining the classic tradition, he led his public into greater intimacy with the moderns. César Franck, d'Indy, Debussy, Chausson, Glazounoff, Gretchaninoff, Balakireff, Borodine, Sinigaglia, Max Reger, Richard Strauss, Gustav Mahler have all figured on his programs, together with Bach, Beethoven, and Brahms, with Haydn and Mozart, with Schubert, Schumann and Mendelssohn, with Wagner, Liszt, and Tschaikowsky. Like the other big American orchestras, the Theodore Thomas organization makes an annual tour, bringing to the smaller cities their meed of musical entertainment and to the larger ones an opportunity of comparing notes.

[Pg 193]

In spite of the great strides made by Chicago in musical culture during recent years, its importance in the musical history of the Middle West is second to that of Cincinnati. From the beginning the elements composing the citizenship of the latter city were such as to introduce musical activity at a very early stage. The first Sängerfest in the West was held at the old Armory Hall there about 1842, and in 1878 the Cincinnati College of Music, equipped to teach all branches, was founded by Miss Dora Nelson.

The Cincinnati College of Music, which has since become the College of Music of Cincinnati, became the vibrant centre of musical growth in the Middle West. It was never without its own orchestra, string quartet, chorus and school of opera and expression. Through its faculty concerts, lectures, and other forms of educational entertainments the people of Cincinnati became interested and discriminating auditors.

Theodore Thomas was the first musical director of this school, and it was from Cincinnati that he first exercised the influence which has since resulted in such remarkable advance in all musical centres of the Middle West. The first May Music Festival to be given in America was organized and performed under his direction in 1873. Five years later, during which time the Cincinnati Festival had become an established institution, the Springer Music Hall was erected for the future use of the May Festival Association.

The May Festivals were given loyal public support and were successful from the beginning. Choral societies were numerous and the cause of advanced musical education found sincere support in every section of the city. The first orchestra to give public concerts was organized and operated by Michael Brand, a 'cellist of considerable local fame. He had gathered about him the more advanced of the local musicians and in 1894[Pg 194] an orchestra of forty men was giving concerts under his direction.

In 1895 public spirited women, interested in the advancement of music, conceived the idea of establishing a regular symphony orchestra on a substantial basis through public subscription. This movement was led by the Ladies' Musical Club, of which Miss Emma L. Roedter was president and Mrs. William Howard Taft, wife of the later President of the United States, secretary. The conception of the plan that was followed is accredited to Miss Helen Sparrman, at that time honorary president of the Ladies' Musical Club. As a result, the Cincinnati Orchestra Association Company was organized and nine concerts were given under its direction during the season 1895-96.

The season was divided into three series of three concerts each, and three prospective conductors, all of them men of wide experience, were engaged to conduct a series each.

Following the performance of these trial concerts ten thousand dollars was secured by public subscription and the succeeding fall an orchestra of forty-eight men, with Frank Van der Stucken as permanent conductor, was established. The first regular season in 1895-96 consisted of ten pairs of concerts given in Pike's Opera House, on Friday afternoons and Saturday evenings, from November 20 to April 11, inclusive. The orchestra was increased to seventy men during the season 1896-97 and the concerts transferred to Music Hall, where they were given until the winter of 1911. About this time Mrs. Thomas J. Emery had begun the construction of a building for the use of the Ohio Mechanics Institute and the auditorium was so constructed that it could be made the home of the orchestra, which at this time was being operated under the corporation title of The Cincinnati Symphony Orchestra Association Company.

[Pg 195]

Mr. Van der Stucken's incumbency as conductor of the orchestra ended in 1906. The concerts given by the association during the season 1907-08 were given with orchestras from other cities and in 1908 no concerts were given. During the summer of 1909, however, the association, under the leadership of Mrs. Holmes, placed the orchestra on a permanent basis by raising a subscription fund of fifty thousand dollars a year for five years. Mr. Leopold Stokowski was installed as conductor and ten pairs of concerts were given the following year. The orchestra numbered sixty-five men.

The season 1911-12 was marked by an increase to seventy-seven men. On the retirement of Mrs. Holmes as president, the orchestra had been brought up to a membership of eighty-two men and Mr. Stokowski had been succeeded by the present conductor, Dr. Ernst Kunwald, for five years an associate of Arthur Nikisch in the Berlin Philharmonic Orchestra.

The orchestra's sphere of influence began to extend beyond the environs of Cincinnati in 1900. Since that time it has made annual tours, visiting Pittsburgh, Buffalo, Cleveland, Columbus, Toledo, Detroit, Grand Rapids, Indianapolis, Louisville, Terre Haute, Oberlin, Akron, Dayton, Springfield, Kansas City, Omaha, Wichita, St. Louis, Milwaukee, Chicago, and other cities of the Middle West and South.

Pittsburgh, like all other cities preëminently industrial, has developed but slowly that side of its civic life in which the arts find important place, and not until 1873 did it possess a musical body that might properly be called an orchestra. This was known as the 'Germania' and was founded and conducted by George Toerge. It consisted of from thirty-five to forty-two instruments and its programs were made up chiefly of symphony movements, overtures, and lighter music. There was nothing very ambitious in its aims or[Pg 196] achievements, but undoubtedly it was not without its influence in preparing the way for others. Later Carl Retter organized what was known as Retter's Orchestra, which, under his leadership and that of Fidelis Zitterbart, continued valiantly the pioneer work done by the Germania. Its first concert was devoted to Gluck, Beethoven, Boccherini, Johann Strauss, and Keler-Bela. Retter was succeeded in 1879 by Adolph M. Foerster, who conducted the orchestra for the next two years.

As yet there was not sufficient interest in musical affairs in Pittsburgh to support a permanent orchestra worthy of the city, but there were a number of valuable musical organizations, such as the Gounod Club, the Symphonic Society, the Art Society, and the Mozart Club, which, singly or together, did excellent work in providing orchestral concerts. Then came the twenty-eighth National Saengerfest, which was held in Pittsburgh in 1896 and which inaugurated an epoch in the musical affairs of the city. This festival, to quote Mr. Adolph Foerster, 'aroused the first impulse of bringing order out of the chaos existing at that time. It was to create an orchestra for this great event and thus lay the foundation for a permanent organization to give concerts at Carnegie Hall, then nearing completion. Though concerts were begun a few months after the dedication of the hall, the orchestra was not, however, engaged, since the elaborate programs designed excluded the possibilities of adequate interpretations by the orchestra as then equipped. Perhaps to no other one man than to Charles W. Scovel is due the credit of solving the intricate problem of establishing the guarantee fund, bringing the different elements into harmony, and thus making the orchestra a possibility.'

The Pittsburgh Symphony Orchestra gave its first concert on February 27, 1896, with Frederic Archer as[Pg 197] conductor and with a program that included compositions of Mendelssohn, Beethoven, Rameau, Saint-Saëns, Massenet, Liszt, and Wagner. In 1898 Archer was succeeded in the conductorship by Victor Herbert, whose brilliance, verve, and tendency toward the picturesque in music appealed strongly to the Pittsburgh public and established for his orchestra of sixty-five men a popularity which a more severe and conservative leader might have failed to attract. Theodore Thomas always took his position firmly on the heights and compelled his audience to climb up to him; Herbert adopted the reverse method, starting in the pleasant, flower-decked plain and cheerfully leading his public by his hand to more stimulating altitudes. Possibly his plan was not the best sort of educational discipline, but it seems to have been productive of good results. Emil Paur, who succeeded him in 1910, paid more respect to the great gods on high Olympus, bowing down with especial reverence before the shrine of Brahms. 'It must be recorded,' says Mr. Foerster, 'that ever since Mr. Paur has conducted the orchestra the non-local financial as well as artistic successes have been much increased. The orchestra is a regular visitor each season to many large cities.... Each season the demand for the orchestra has increased, and thus it has become a national educator, a notable benefactor in the musical development of this country, probably traversing a larger area than any of the great symphony orchestras.' In addition to its regular conductors the orchestra has at various times played under the leadership of guest conductors, including Richard Strauss, Eugen d'Albert, Walter Damrosch, and Edward Elgar.

IV

Perhaps the most striking feature of recent musical history in the United States is the remarkable growth[Pg 198] of musical culture in the West. So rapid has been this growth, so widely has it spread, so numerous and varied are the activities it has brought in its train that it would be impossible to follow it in any detail. The number of musical clubs and organizations which have sprung up in recent years in the vast territory between the Mississippi and the Pacific is too great even to be catalogued in a general sketch of this nature. In many of the large cities, however, some of these organizations have reached a position of national importance and rival the best products of the older cities of the East. Notable among those is the Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra, which is generally conceded to rank with the Boston Symphony, the Theodore Thomas Orchestra, and the New York Philharmonic. It owes its inception entirely to Emil Oberhoffer, who started it as a support for the chorus of the Philharmonic Society of Minneapolis, of which he was conductor. He succeeded in obtaining a guarantee of $30,000 for three years, then one of $90,000 for three years, and finally one of $65,000 annually for three years. With that backing he was able to organize and perfect an orchestral body which has few equals in America and of which he still remains conductor. During its first season the orchestra gave six concerts. Since then the number has increased to forty annually. After its regular season the orchestra makes a spring tour extending from Winnipeg in the North to Birmingham, Ala., in the South, and from Akron in the East to Wichita in the West. St. Paul also has an excellent orchestra, organized in 1905, which gives a season of ten concerts, seventeen popular Sunday afternoon concerts, and three children's concerts—so that, on the whole, the twin cities are very generously supplied with orchestral music.

San Francisco, curiously enough, has been somewhat tardy in orchestral matters and it was not until 1911[Pg 199] that it organized an orchestra of any importance. So far the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, under the leadership of Henry Hadley, has done excellent work. During its three seasons it has given five symphonies of Beethoven, three of Brahms, one of Dvořák, one of César Franck, two of Hadley, one of Haydn, three of Mozart, one of Rachmaninoff, two of Schubert, one of Schumann, and three of Tschaikowsky, besides compositions by Bach, Berlioz, Bizet, Borodine, Chadwick, Debussy, Elgar, Goldmark, Gounod, Grieg, Victor Herbert, Humperdinck, Lalo, Liszt, MacDowell, Massenet, Mendelssohn, Moszkowski, Nicolai, Ravel, Reger, Rimsky-Korsakoff, Rossini, Rubinstein, Saint-Saëns, Sibelius, Smetana, Johann Strauss, Richard Strauss, Svendsen, Coleridge Taylor, Verdi, Wagner, Weber, and many others—it would be impossible to conceive of a more catholic assemblage.

Seattle has a fine symphony orchestra of its own, and in the Southwest Denver shines as the possessor of an ambitious symphonic organization. Since 1907 St. Louis has had a good orchestra under the leadership of Carl Zach. In 1911 The Kansas City Musical Club, a women's organization, succeeded in promoting an Orchestra Association to guarantee the losses of an orchestra which is doing good work under the leadership of Carl Busch. Los Angeles, Wichita, Cleveland, Detroit, and other Western and Middle Western cities also have creditable orchestras of their own.

Returning East we note the orchestra of the Peabody Institute in Baltimore and the symphony orchestras of Atlanta, Washington, New Haven, and Buffalo. These are all relatively modest organizations, but they supplement excellently the work of the large visiting orchestras. Philadelphia, however, possesses an orchestra which has now definitely taken its place among the greatest in the country. It is the outgrowth of about fifty amateur and semi-professional musicians[Pg 200] who, between 1893 and 1900, gave a few concerts each season at the Academy of Music under the leadership of Dr. W. W. Gilchrist. These men formed the nucleus of a permanent orchestra of seventy-two players, which was organized in 1900. Fritz Scheel, then conducting an orchestra at one of Philadelphia's summer parks, was appointed conductor. Under him the important formative work was solidly accomplished and when Carl Pohlig, first court conductor at Stuttgart, came over as conductor in 1907 he found at his disposal a finished ensemble. Pohlig was succeeded by Leopold Stokowski in 1912. The latter's knowledge of American traditions and artistic needs, gained at first while conductor of the Cincinnati orchestra, served to put him in sympathy with the musical desires and ideals of his public and the success of the orchestra under his leadership has been very marked. Besides its regular season of fifty-one concerts (season of 1913-14) the Philadelphia orchestra gives a number of popular concerts, fills many engagements in nearby towns and cities, and makes two tours of a week each in the Middle West and New England.

'Believing that a great orchestral organization should have an educational influence'—we quote from the prospectus of the Philadelphia orchestra—'he (Mr. Stokowski) chooses the compositions to be played from all periods and all schools and arranges his programs in the manner which he considers most likely to prove both pleasure-giving and enlightening. The list of programs for the past season (1913-14) included two devoted wholly to Wagner, one of which was made up of excerpts from the four operas of the "Ring," presented in their natural sequence. From Bach to Richard Strauss, from Gluck to Erich Korngold—the repertory, though kept always up to his high standard, is inclusive and comprehensive. It touches upon all fields of music, faltering before no technical requirements—there[Pg 201] is nothing in the most modern range of the most complicated orchestral works that the orchestra has not at one time or another essayed, one of its achievements being the entirely successful performance of Richard Strauss's tremendous Sinfonia Domestica.'

Altogether, in orchestral matters America has sufficient reason to be proud of her attainments. Of course, one cannot argue from the existence of good orchestras the coincidence of a high or widely diffused state of musical culture. They are to some extent the joint product of money and civic pride. But their educational influence is beyond question and thus we may at least argue from the increasing number of good orchestras in America a bright promise for the future.

V

Aside from purely orchestral organizations there has been in recent years, especially in the larger cities, an increasing number of societies devoted to the study of special phases of musical art and which give occasional illustrative concerts with orchestra. As these are quasi-social in their activities and somewhat restricted in their appeal, their influence on the musical culture of the country generally is not of much account. Quite the opposite, however, is true of the large number of important ensembles devoted to the performance of chamber music. The growth of public interest in the smaller instrumental forms promoted by these ensembles is not the least interesting and significant feature of musical conditions in present-day America. It might not, perhaps, be extreme to say that a real appreciation of chamber music is the identifying mark of true musical cultivation, and the ever-increasing public which patronizes the concerts of chamber music organizations in this country is one of the most[Pg 202] encouraging signs patriotic American music-lovers could wish to see.

Probably we must go back to our charming old friends, the cavaliers of Virginia, with their 'chests of viols' and their compositions of Boccherini and Vivaldi, to find the beginnings of chamber-music in America. Undoubtedly small private ensembles antedated orchestras in this country as they did everywhere else. We know that at Governor Penn's house in Philadelphia Francis Hopkinson and his friends met together frequently for musical entertainment, and such gatherings must have been numerous in New York, Boston, Charleston, and other colonial centres of culture. However, we must grope along until well into the nineteenth century before we find a public appearance in America of a chamber music ensemble. The pioneer, as far as we can discover, was a string quartet brought together in 1843 by Uriah C. Hill, founder of the New York Philharmonic. Samuel Johnson, an original member of the Philharmonic, writes about this quartet as follows: 'A miserable failure, artistically and financially. It would be gross flattery to call Mr. Hill a third-rate violinist; Apelles was a good clarinet, but a poor violinist.... Lehmann was a good second flute; Hegelund was a bassoon player and naturally best adapted to that instrument; he was a very small-sized man, with hands too small to grasp the neck of the 'cello. The whole enterprise was dead at its conception.' But perhaps Mr. Johnson did not like Mr. Hill. Richard Grant White said that the soirées of the Hill Quartet 'were well attended and successful.'

In 1846, however, New York was treated to a quartet headed by the great Sivori. 'This was something like a real quartet' according to Samuel Johnson. Three years later Saroni's 'Musical Times' arranged a series of four chamber music concerts in which the best artists in New York appeared. The program of the first[Pg 203] concert included Mozart's D minor string quartet, Beethoven's B flat piano trio, and Mendelssohn's D minor piano trio—rather a choice dish. Then came Theodore Eisfeld, who, in 1851, established a string quartet that set a very high mark for its successors to shoot at. At its first concert it presented Haydn's Quartet, No. 78, in B flat, Mendelssohn's trio in D minor, and Beethoven's quartet No. 1, in F major. Eisfeld maintained that standard for several years, clinging religiously to Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven, Mendelssohn, and Spohr. And, furthermore, his soirées were well patronized. Beyond question he created a real demand for that sort of thing, so that in 1855, at the suggestion of Dr. William Mason, Carl Bergmann instituted a series of soirées for the performance of chamber music and organized a quartet consisting of himself, Theodore Thomas, Joseph Mosenthal, and George Matzka. Mason was pianist. These concerts, known first as the Mason and Bergmann and then as the Mason and Thomas series, were continued every season (except that of 1856-57) until 1866. They improved considerably on the work done by Eisfeld, adding to the names of Haydn, Mozart, and Beethoven on their programs those of Schumann, Rubinstein, Brahms, Raff, and other contemporaries.

Boston in the meantime had been initiated into the beauties of chamber music by the Harvard Musical Association, which gave a regular series of soirées there every year between 1844 and 1850. Stimulated by the success of these affairs, five professional musicians—August Fries, Francis Riha, Edward Lehman, Thomas Ryan, and Wulf Fries, to wit—organized the Mendelssohn Quintet Club. This was the first important chamber music ensemble in America and for nearly fifty years it continued to cultivate its chosen field, not only in Boston, but all over the United States. Its first concert included Mendelssohn's Quintet, op. 8,[Pg 204] a concertante of Kalliwoda for flute, violin and 'cello, and Beethoven's Quintet, op. 4. The Mendelssohn Quintet Club was an active and progressive organization, keeping well up with contemporary composition and frequently augmenting its members so as to give sextets, septets, octets, nonets, and other larger chamber-music forms.

The next noteworthy chamber music organization in the East was the Beethoven Quintet Club formed in Boston in 1873. Then came the era of what we might call the Boston Symphony graduates, viz., the Kneisel Quartet, the Hoffman Quartet, the Adamowski Quartet, and the Longy Club (wind instruments)—all offshoots of the same great orchestra. Of these perhaps the most notable is the Kneisel Quartet (founded in 1884), which has won a deservedly high reputation as well for its splendid interpretations of standard compositions as for its frequent presentation of interesting novelties. Since 1905 the Kneisel Quartet has made New York its headquarters and like the Flonzaleys and other organizations tours the entire country every season. In 1904 Mr. Kneisel's successor as concertmeister of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, Prof. Willy Hess, founded the Boston Symphony Quartet, which has since then given concerts of very high standard in Boston and elsewhere. The Longy Club of wind instruments (founded in 1899) is also a noteworthy organization and does work of the highest artistic excellence in a field but slightly exploited. Among other chamber music ensembles which have seen the light in Boston may be mentioned the Theodorowicz Quartet, the Olive Mead Quartet, the Eaton-Hadley Trio, and the Bostonia Quintet Club, composed of string quartet and clarinet.

New York is not quite so well favored in this respect, but it possesses several chamber music organizations of some distinction. Chief of them is the Flonzaley Quartet, which in point of individuality has probably no[Pg 205] peer in America. The Barrère Ensemble of woodwinds, headed by George Barrère, first flutist of the New York Symphony Society, is also an organization of exceptional excellence, though it does not possess the perfect balance and all-round finish of the Longy Club. Among others, the Marum Quartet, the Margulies Trio, and the New York Trio are worthy of note.

In Chicago the principal chamber music organizations are the Heerman Quartet and the Chicago String Quartet. Practically every other city of importance in the country has one or more such ensembles, some of them professional, some of them semi-professional and some of them amateur. While the private performance of chamber music in any community usually precedes the institution of public concerts, regular professional bodies follow as a rule the establishment of large orchestras; hence it would be futile to look for good chamber music ensembles outside the principal cities.

The activities of the musical clubs all over the country include in a majority of cases the occasional performance of chamber music works. In the small towns these are usually private, social affairs; in the large cities they often succeed in reaching a wide public. There are literally thousands of such clubs in the United States and their influence in the promotion of musical appreciation is very great. Of course, many of them are namby-pamby pink tea gatherings, leaning languidly toward the Godard's Berceuse style of composition and conversational clap-trap touching art and artists. But the majority of them, we are inclined to believe, are serious in aim and accomplish an amount of good in their immediate environment. It is worthy of remark that a very large proportion of them are composed exclusively of women.

W. D. D.

CHAPTER IX
CHORAL ORGANIZATIONS AND MUSIC FESTIVALS

I

Unquestionably an epoch in the cultivation of choral music in America was inaugurated by the foundation of the Boston Handel and Haydn Society in 1815. Whether or not there is anything in the theory that American musical organizations had their genesis in the singing classes of Massachusetts, it may scarcely be denied that the cultivation of ensemble singing received earlier and more serious attention in New England than elsewhere in this country. The reason is sufficiently obvious. The people of New England were a church-going race, and singing, even when Puritan asceticism was most intense, was an essential factor of religious services. As soon as the New England conscience was convinced that good singing was no more frivolous and immoral than bad singing the people turned with characteristic zeal to choral practice and singing societies throughout the land became as common as Sunday-schools. These societies were very distinct in character from other American musical organizations, and the distinction was entirely in their favor. They were the outgrowth of a real and widely felt popular need; they had a practical purpose in which[Pg 207] all their members were seriously interested. On the contrary, the other early musical societies for the most part were promoted by wealthy amateurs from motives which at best were not free from suspicion of dilettantism and at worst were purely snobbish.

The nucleus of the Handel and Haydn Society was the choir of the Park Street Church and the moving spirit in its formation was Gottlieb Graupner, whose services to music in Boston we have already noticed. Associated with him were Asa Peabody and Thomas Webb Smith. The society, according to its pre-organization announcement, was formed with the object 'of cultivating and improving a correct taste in the performance of sacred music'—a phrase which recalls the exhortations of the Rev. Thomas Symmes and his colleagues a century earlier. On Christmas evening, 1815, according to the Hon. Robert C. Winthrop, the first concert of the society was given 'to a delighted audience of nine hundred and forty-five persons, with the Russian Consul, the well-remembered Mr. Eustaphieve, assisting as one of the performers in the orchestra.' The first program was appropriately devoted altogether to Handel and Haydn.

The growth of the society to a position of commanding artistic stature was rapid. In 1818 it gave a performance of the 'Messiah' complete—possibly for the first time in America.[54] In the following year the 'Creation' was given, and the 'Dettingen Te Deum' followed soon after. It would seem that the society in 1823 unofficially commissioned Beethoven to write an oratorio for its use,[55] and that fact alone would indicate that it had come to take itself very seriously indeed. Masses by Haydn and Mozart, the larger part of Beethoven's 'Mount of Olives,' Handel's 'Samson,' and Donizetti's[Pg 208] 'Martyrs' were features of the society's work between 1825 and 1850.

Until 1847 the Handel and Haydn was conducted by its successive presidents, the most notable of whom were Thomas Smith Webb, Lowell Mason, and Jonas Chickering. Then the offices of president and conductor were dissociated. Carl Bergmann became conductor in 1852 and in 1854 he was succeeded by Carl Zerrahn, who occupies a prominent place in the history of musical progress in Boston. He remained with the Handel and Haydn until 1895, after which came Benjamin J. Lang and Emil Mollenhauer, successively.

The Handel and Haydn Society bulks so large in the musical life of Boston that the other choral organizations of the city are somewhat excessively overshadowed. But there are a number of excellent and distinctive societies which deserve more than passing mention. Chief of these is the Choral Art Society organized in 1901 by Mr. Wallace Goodrich, in imitation of the Musical Art Society of New York, for the study and performance of works of the Palestrina school, Bach, and the more modern masters of a cappella music. The Apollo Club, founded in 1871, is one of the best male choruses in the country and the Cecilia Society, dating from 1877, is noted for its presentation of interesting novelties. Of particular importance, too, is the People's Choral Union, a chorus of four hundred voices, recruited from the working classes.

II

The splendid work done by the Sacred Music Society of New York has been noticed in a previous chapter. Unfortunately the society did not live long. During the last five years of its existence it had a robust rival in the Musical Institute, a chorus of one hundred[Pg 209] and twenty voices under the leadership of H. C. Timm, which has to its credit performances of Haydn's 'Seasons' (1846) and Schumann's 'Paradise and the Peri' (1848) among others.

In choral as in orchestral matters New York was suffering from too much competition. Out of the débris of the two chief competitors arose, in 1849, the New York Harmonic Society, which lived until 1863 under the successive conductorships of Timm, Eisfeld, Bristow, Bergmann, Morgan, Ritter, and James Peck. In its own way the Harmonic Society was just as important and efficient as the Philharmonic, but longevity decidedly was not a feature of New York choral organizations. Out of the remains of the Harmonic came the Mendelssohn Union, of which Bristow, Morgan, Bergmann, and Theodore Thomas were successively conductors, and then followed the Choral Music Association, a most exclusively fashionable organization.

The complaint from which New York choral societies were suffering at that time might accurately be diagnosed as anemia and it was fortunate that for several years previously there had been a large influx to the city of red Germanic blood. In 1847 a number of these lusty Germans got together and formed a male chorus which they called Deutscher Liederkranz. There was life in the Liederkranz, and art and sincerity and enthusiasm and everything that ought to be in a musical society. It gave a tremendous impulse to the art of choral singing in New York and the extent of its influence in the musical life of the community cannot easily be overestimated. The list of important works performed by it would be too long to quote here, but we may mention, as illustrating the quality of its taste, Mozart's Requiem, Mendelssohn's Walpurgisnacht, Haydn's Schöpfung, Schumann's Des Sänger's Fluch, Schubert's Chor der Geister über dem Wasser and Die Verschworenen, Liszt's Prometheus,[Pg 210] Meyerbeer's 'Ninth Psalm,' Bruch's Odysseus, Brahms' Ein deutsches Requiem and Schicksalslied, and Hoffman's Melusine and Aschenbrödel. There has been nothing anemic about the Liederkranz. In 1856 it admitted women to its choruses. This step had been contemplated for some years and in connection therewith there had been vigorous warfare within the ranks of the society. As a result the anti-feminist irreconcilables seceded in 1854 and formed the Männergesangverein Arion, which has since travelled at a musical pace as lively as that of its parent.

Unfortunately we have not space to speak of the splendid work accomplished by the Arion during the sixty years of its existence. Not the least of its services to music in America was the introduction of Dr. Leopold Damrosch, who conducted it for several years. In 1873 it occurred to Dr. Damrosch that New York needed a society which would give the larger forms of choral music in a competent fashion. The Mendelssohn Union and the Church Music Association still existed. Both had done excellent work, the latter having been responsible for the first performance in America of Beethoven's Mass in D. But, possibly because of their own peculiar lack of vigorous life, they failed to attract the public. That the need for such an organization as the Oratorio Society, which Dr. Damrosch founded in 1873, was very real is sufficiently proved by its rapid success. The new society avoided the mistake made by all its predecessors in starting too pretentiously and began with a few modest concerts of a miscellaneous nature. But by the time death deprived it of its founder in 1885 it had placed to its credit achievements in choral music such as had never been approached by any other organization in New York, or, in fact, elsewhere in America. These included the great choral classics: Beethoven's 'Ninth Symphony,' Bach's 'St. Matthew's Passion,' Handel's 'Messiah' and 'Judas Maccabæus,' Mendelssohn's 'Elijah' and 'St. Paul,' Haydn's 'Creation,' Brahms' 'A German Requiem,' and others, together with first performances in America of Berlioz's Damnation de Faust and Requiem, Frederick H. Cowen's 'St. Ursula,' Leopold Damrosch's 'Ruth and Naomi' and 'Sulamith,' Kiel's Christus, and Liszt's Christus. We may also mention performances in concert form of Gluck's Orpheus, Berlioz's Les Troyens, and Wagner's Parsifal (excerpts).

American Pioneer Conductors: Anton Seidl, Theodore Thomas, Dr. Leopold Damrosch.

Dr. Damrosch was succeeded by his son Walter, who conducted the society until 1889, introducing to America Berlioz's Te Deum, his own 'Scarlet Letter' and 'Manila Te Deum,' Gounod's 'Redemption,' Edward Grell's Missa Solemnis, George Henschel's Stabat Mater, Gustav Mahler's 'Choral Symphony' (No. 2), Horatio Parker's 'St. Christopher,' Saint-Saëns' 'Samson and Delilah,' Heinrich Schütz's 'Seven Last Words,' Edgar Tinel's 'St. Francis of Assisi,' and Tschaikowsky's 'Legend,' Pater noster, and Eugen Onegin. He also gave a complete version in concert form of Parsifal. Frank Damrosch, another son of Dr. Damrosch, became conductor of the society in 1889. In the meantime Mr. Andrew Carnegie had become interested in the work and it was mainly this interest which led him to build the Carnegie Music Hall. The Oratorio Society, which had given its concerts successively in Steinway Hall, the Academy of Music, and the Metropolitan Opera House, moved to the new hall in 1891, celebrating the event with a festival made memorable by the presence of Tschaikowsky as a guest conductor. During his twelve years as conductor of the society Mr. Frank Damrosch raised its repertory to eighty-six compositions, adding fourteen works to the list. Several of these were given for the first time in America, including Sir Edward Elgar's 'The Apostles' and 'The Kingdom,' Gabriel Pierné's 'The Children's Crusade,' Strauss's 'Taillefer,' and Wolf-Ferrari's La vita nuova.[Pg 212] Other important performances were Bach's 'B Minor Mass' and Beethoven's 'Mass in D.' Chicago anticipated the Oratorio Society by three days in the first American performance of Elgar's 'The Dream of Gerontius.' In 1912 it collaborated with the Symphony Society in a Brahms festival, singing 'Nenia,' the 'Triumphal Hymn,' and 'A German Requiem.' Frank Damrosch resigned in the same year and was succeeded by Louis Koemmenich. The novelties of Mr. Koemmenich's first two seasons were Otto Taubmann's Eine Deutsche Messe and Georg Schumann's 'Ruth,' and there were two performances of the 'Ninth Symphony' in conjunction with the Symphony Society at a Beethoven festival in 1914.

In 1893 Frank Damrosch organized a professional chorus under the title of the Musical Art Society, for the performance of a cappella works of Bach, the Palestrina school, and more modern masters. The society was quite different from any choral organization that had ever been formed in America, aiming at the interpretation of a style of music that is in the highest degree difficult and unusual. To cover acceptably the field of a cappella music from Josquin des Près, Palestrina, Orlando di Lasso, Eccard, Gabrieli and Orlando Gibbons to Debussy, d'Indy and Richard Strauss is an artistic enterprise which only a chorus of artists, one would think, would venture to undertake. The Musical Art Society has succeeded very well in its difficult task and its concerts are invariably among the most interesting events of the New York season. Its repertory to date includes the names of over one hundred composers, with special emphasis on Palestrina, Bach, and Brahms, and it includes also a large number of delightful old Minnelieder, mediæval hymns and German, Scandinavian, Scotch, French, Bohemian, and English folk-songs.

Similar work is done by the Schola Cantorum, under[Pg 213] Kurt Schindler, which has given especially interesting programs of old troubadour songs and madrigals of the French renaissance. It was originally organized, under the auspices of the MacDowell Club, as the MacDowell Chorus. The Lambord Choral Society, organized under the conductorship of Benjamin Lambord in 1912, is devoted to the study and performance of small, rarely heard choral works by modern composers. During its first season its activities included a series of chamber music concerts, as well as a concert with chorus and orchestra in celebration of the centenary of Wagner's birth. The Modern Music Society was organized in 1913, with the Lambord Choral Society as one of its constituent parts. The new society made its first public appearance with a noteworthy concert devoted altogether to works of modern American composers, its avowed purpose being the encouragement of native composition.

Among other New York choral organizations may be mentioned the United Singers and the People's Choral Union, which may be cited as a prominent example of community music in a large city. The People's Choral Union and Singing Classes were established in 1892 by Frank Damrosch in close affiliation with the work of the Cooper Institute, established to disseminate knowledge and culture among the people, particularly working men and women.

In Brooklyn the Oratorio Society and the Choral Society are probably the best of a number of good choruses, though in Brooklyn, as in most big cities, there are several German singing societies which excel in their own particular field.

Considering its great musical activity, Philadelphia is not especially conspicuous for its choral organizations, but the Orpheus Club, a male chorus founded in 1872, the Cecilia Society, founded in 1875, and the Philadelphia Chorus Society are worthy of mention. By far the[Pg 214] most interesting centre of choral music in Pennsylvania is the Moravian settlement of Bethlehem, which since its foundation in 1741 has been cultivating that branch of musical art with splendid sincerity and idealism. As early as 1811 Haydn's 'Creation' was performed there; Bach's great B minor Mass was given by the Bach Choir of Bethlehem for the first time in America in 1900, and in 1903 the choir held a Bach festival during which it performed the entire 'Christmas Oratorio,' the Magnificat, 'St. Matthew's Passion,' and the B minor Mass.

Of course, every city and town of any size in the East has one or more singing societies which do their own fair share in entertaining and improving it musically. It would be impossible to enumerate them. New England is, as it always has been, an especially lively centre of choral work, and such cities as Portland, Me., Springfield and Concord, Mass., Burlington, Vt., and New Haven, Conn., possess highly trained and efficient choruses. Of particular interest is the Worcester County Musical Association, of Worcester, Mass., an outgrowth of the old musical conventions held for the purpose of promoting church music. It was organized in 1863 and for a few years confined itself to psalm-tunes and simple, sentimental cantatas; but it soon graduated to Handel, Haydn, Mendelssohn, Rossini, Verdi, Gounod, and other serious composers of oratorios and masses. The annual festivals of the association now rank among the most important events of the American musical year.

III

In the West Cincinnati takes the lead as a pioneer in choral music. As early as 1819 there was a Haydn Society in Cincinnati which seems to have been the successor of an older organization. Its first concert[Pg 215] was devoted to Handel and Haydn, and its second included also Mozart. Soon afterward were born the Episcopal Singing Society and the Euterpean Society. Then came the Sacred Music Society and the Amateur Musical Association. The latter gave the 'Creation' in 1853. Coincidentally there grew up a number of Männerchor societies, which in 1849, collaborating with several similar bodies in neighboring towns, organized the first of the great Sängerfeste already mentioned. In 1856 the Cecilia Society came into being and inaugurated a new era for choral music in Cincinnati. At its first concert it performed Mendelssohn's 'Forty-second Psalm,' a cantata of Mozart, a chorus for female voices from Spontini's Vestale, Haydn's 'Come, Gentle Spring,' and some choruses from Schneider's 'Last Judgment.' Subsequently it presented other works of Haydn, Mozart, and Mendelssohn, as well as compositions of Beethoven, Schumann, Handel, Gluck, Gade, Neukomm, Weber, and Wagner.

The next important society in Cincinnati was the Cincinnati Harmonic, out of which grew the Festival Chorus Society. The latter was organized in connection with the Cincinnati May Festivals which started in 1873 and in which thirty-six societies from the West and Northwest, including over one thousand singers, participated. The stimulation furnished by this and subsequent coöperative festivals resulted, as Theodore Thomas hopefully predicted, in sending 'new life and vigor into the whole musical body of the West.' Cincinnati still retains its activity in choral music and possesses a large number of excellent singing societies, most of which are German. Among these we may mention the Männerchor and the Orpheus as perhaps the most conspicuous.

It would indeed be impossible to estimate fully the value the influence exercised by Germans and German singing societies had on the cultivation of music in[Pg 216] America. In Milwaukee, for example, the Musikverein, organized in 1849, stood for years as a beacon light of musical culture, shedding its rays far and near over the artistic darkness of the newly settled West. 'The elements of which the Musik-Verein was composed,' says Ritter, 'were many-sided. There were to be found that German indigenous growth, the Männerchor (male chorus), the orchestra, the chorus composed of male and female voices, amateurs performing the different solo parts. The whole field of modern musical forms was cultivated by those enthusiastic German colonists, the male-chorus glee, the cantata, the oratorio, the opera, chamber music in its divers forms, the overture, the symphony were placed on the programs of this active society. Its musical life was a rich one and its influence through the West was of great bearing on a healthy musical development.'

There are over twenty German choruses in Milwaukee; in St. Louis there are probably as many, while in Chicago the number is beyond count—there are certainly more than one hundred. St. Louis started its musical life rather early and established a Philharmonic Society in 1838. Seven years later a Polyhymnia Society was formed and about the same time a Cecilian Society and an Oratorio Society came into being. A new Philharmonic Society was organized in 1859 and later came the St. Louis Choral Society. These, of course, leave out of account the German societies, of which the most prominent are the Liederkranz, the Socialer Sängerchor, the Germania Sängerbund, the Orpheus, and the Schweizer Männerchor. As early as 1858 Chicago had a Musical Union devoted to the study of oratorio. During the eight years of its existence it gave the principal oratorio classics, including the 'Creation,' 'Messiah,' and 'Elijah.' It was succeeded by the Oratorio Society, which persevered, under the conductorship of Hans Balatka, until the great fire. After[Pg 217] the fire it was revived, but in 1873 its library and effects were again burned and further attempts to continue it were unavailing. The summer of 1872 saw the organization of the Apollo Club, which is to-day the only society of importance in Chicago devoted to the cultivation of oratorio music. There is also a Chicago Musical Art Society patterned after the Musical Art Society of New York and doing similar work. These are the chief agencies for the cultivation of choral music in Chicago, apart from the multitude of German societies to which we have already alluded.

San Francisco had an oratorio society, organized by Rudolph Herold, as early as 1860, and soon afterward a Handel and Haydn Society entered the field. The fact that these societies received support during several years of competitive existence speaks well for the state of musical cultivation in San Francisco at that date. And certainly the city has not deteriorated musically since then, if we may judge from the number of choral societies now active there.

The most notable of these is the Loring Club, a male chorus, founded in 1876, which gives concerts of unusual artistic excellence. Los Angeles, Seattle, Portland—in fact all the coast cities—are wide-awake and progressive musical centres and possess efficient organizations devoted to church work. It would be impossible to note all of them. Indeed, the compass of a bulky volume would scarcely inclose reference to all the choral societies at present active in the United States. There is scarcely a community in the land which does not possess one or more such societies, ranging in character from church choirs to the most pretentious of choral organizations. Many of them, especially in such cities as Baltimore, Washington, New Orleans, Richmond, Louisville, Dallas, Denver, and Kansas City, compare favorably with the more widely known societies of New York, Boston, and Chicago.[Pg 218] We must also advert again to the work of the German singing societies, which flourish in practically every city in the country, and to the less widespread activities of the Scandinavian singing societies in such centres as Lindsborg, Kansas. These supplement splendidly the work of the native American societies, which, to tell the truth, are more exclusively devoted to the classics of sacred music than is good for their æsthetic health. Altogether the cultivation of choral music is carried on most vigorously throughout the length and breadth of America. It must be admitted that, except in certain circumscribed localities—Massachusetts, for example—it has not yet struck root among the people. It is still carried on chiefly by social coteries, by churches, by artistic circles, by people with aspirations. Americans do not get together and sing from an inward urge to sing, as do the Germans and other people implanted in our midst. Possibly that will come with the racial homogeneity which this great crucible of a country is striving to bring forth. In the meantime, everything that an eager, ambitious, and optimistic people can do to overcome its musical handicaps is now being done by the people of America and the multiplicity and activity of its choral organizations are symptomatic of the energy of its endeavor.

In the meantime the only choral organization in the American continent that can compare with the premier European ensembles has been developed in Canada. The fact is not without its significance. The Toronto Mendelssohn Choir, to which we refer, stands out among American choirs even more prominently than does the Boston Symphony Orchestra among American orchestras, and its marked preëminence has been acknowledged without a dissentient voice by the whole body of critical opinion in this country. It was founded in 1894 by Sir Edmund Walker, Dr. A. S. Vogt, Dr. Harold Clark and Messrs. W. E. Rundle, W. H. Elliott, A. E.[Pg 219] Huestis, and T. Harold Mason, and since the beginning it has been under the conductorship of Dr. Vogt. The general policy of the Toronto Choir is the study and performance of works concerning practically the whole range of choral composition, including all forms of a cappella work, operatic excerpts, standard oratorios, cantatas and lesser forms. Among the more important works performed by the choir may be mentioned Brahms' 'German Requiem,' Verdi's 'Manzoni Requiem,' Bach's 'B Minor Mass,' Wolf-Ferrari's 'The New Life,' Elgar's 'King Olaf,' 'Caractacus' and 'The Music Makers,' Pierné's 'The Children's Crusade' and Coleridge-Taylor's 'Hiawatha' and 'A Tale of Old Japan.' Included also in the repertory of the choir are smaller works by Palestrina, Lotti, Elgar, Hugo Wolf, Granville Bantock, Percy Pitt, Max Reger, Tschaikowsky, Moussorgsky, Sibelius, Rachmaninoff, Gretchaninoff, Brahms, Richard Strauss, Nowowiejski, and others. Besides its annual cycle of five festival performances at home the Toronto Choir has made frequent visits to the more important musical centres of the United States. It has given three concerts in Chicago, two in Cleveland, seven in Buffalo, four in New York, and one in Boston.

As indicating the impression made by this organization on the centres of musical culture in the United States we may quote the following from Philip Hale's criticism of its first performance in Boston: 'It is not too much to say that its performance was a revelation to even those who heard the celebrated choruses of this country and in European cities. Other choruses may show a high degree of technical perfection; they may be conspicuous for decisive attack, perfect intonation, unvarying precision, fleetness in rapid passages, the management of breath or distribution of singers that insures musical and rhetorical phrasing. The Mendelssohn Choir is thus conspicuous, but it has other qualities that are rare in choirs even for a small and carefully[Pg 220] selected number. This choir of Toronto is remarkable for exquisite tonal quality. In piano passages the tone is as though disembodied. There is no thought of massed singers or of any individual singer. The vigor of these singers never approached coarseness, and in fortissimos that were "as the voice of many waters" there was always the suggestion of reserve force, so that there was beauty in strength. There were delicate nuances in the performance, sudden and surprising contrasts without disturbance in rhythm and without loss in purity of intonation. These nuances and contrasts were apparently spontaneous.' H. T. Parker wrote on the same occasion: 'In our musical generation Boston has heard no such choral singing as that of the Mendelssohn Choir in Symphony Hall, last evening, and applauded no choral conductor of such ability as its leader, Dr. Vogt. Now, whether the singers be one or two hundred, a beautiful tone, an expressive tone, a varied tone, is the sum and the substance, the beginning and the end of musical impartment. No choir, no choral conductor, has so mastered these secrets or gone so far in high and various attainment in them as Dr. Vogt and these Torontans. It seems almost pedagogical, before these higher achievements of the Mendelssohn Choir, to rehearse the technical skill of the choristers and their conductor—their fidelity to the true pitch, their decisiveness of attack, their precision of utterance, their separate and collective command of vocal technique, their sense of pace and rhythm. Like unanimity and a unique sensitiveness equally distinguished the singing of the choir on its expressive, its poetizing, its dramatizing side.'

IV

One is frequently impelled to wonder at the peculiar trait of human psychology which leads people to gather[Pg 221] together for the celebration of festivals. We do not allude here to national festivals, or even local festivals, in honor of some historic event or personage. We have in mind such apparently motiveless gatherings as the majority of music festivals. Some of them, of course, have a very definite purpose, and some, such as the Bayreuth Festival and the Mozart Festival at Salzburg, have a very obvious motive. But most of them seem to have no other raison d'être than the instinctive desire of a number of people to gather into a crowd and make a big noise. Festivals of this sort are extraordinarily common in America. It is difficult to say whether the amount of labor involved in the organization of them could not be more profitably expended. Undoubtedly in territories where musical culture is as yet a delicate, doubtful growth they furnish a decided stimulation. To borrow a phrase from the expressive American slang, they are excellent contrivances for 'whooping things up.' But in a deeper sense they seem in the main rather futile. We may instance the case of the Worcester Festival to which we have already alluded. It has been held annually for fifty-six years and each year it has been very finely planned and carried out. Each year also it has cost much money. Yet during that time it has not brought into the light a single new composer, new singer or new instrumentalist; nor has it made Worcester and its environs any more musical than they have always been. Like most of its kind it is merely an inflated concert and the value of inflated concerts at stated intervals is at least open to discussion.

These festivals are peculiarly American and seem to have grown out of the old musical conventions so dear to the hearts of the psalm-singing New Englanders. As far as we can discover, the first musical convention was instituted at Montpelier, Vermont, by Elijah K. Prouty and Moses Elia Cheney, both singing-school instructors.[Pg 222] It seems to have been a combination of concert and musical debate. This was in 1839. Later conventions were held at Newberry, Windsor, Woodstock, Middlebury, and elsewhere in the Green Mountain state. In 1848 Chicago had a musical convention, held at the First Baptist Church, and another four years later under the direction of William Bradbury. Rochester (N. Y.), New York, Richmond, Washington, Quincy (Ill.), Jacksonville (Ill.), and North Reading (Mass.) took up the movement in turn under the direction of George F. Root. All these conventions were purely educational in character and were concerned chiefly with the art of teaching music.

The Worcester Festival, when it started in 1858, was a convention of the same sort, with 'lectures upon the voice; the different styles of church music, ancient and modern; the philosophy of scales, harmony, etc., with singing by the whole class and by select voices; solos by members of the convention and ladies and gentlemen from abroad.' But the promoters of the project—Edward Hamilton and Benjamin F. Baker—hoped that at no distant day it might be possible 'to achieve the performance of the oratorios and other grand works of Handel, Haydn, Mozart, Beethoven.' This purpose has been gradually achieved as the educational features of the festival have been dropped. Carl Zerrahn was chief conductor of the festival from 1866 to 1897 and was assisted at various times by W. O. Perkins, George F. Root, Dudley Buck, Victor Herbert, Franz Kneisel, and others. His successors have been George W. Chadwick, Wallace Goodrich, and Arthur Mees, in the order named.

The next festival of importance was the May festival of Cincinnati, started by Theodore Thomas in 1873. Thomas had a peculiar penchant for festivals. Quite probably they were of some value in stirring up interest in choral singing throughout the West. The prospect[Pg 223] of going to the city every two years and participating in a big musical jamboree undoubtedly had the effect of stimulating choral societies in the smaller towns. Since 1873 the Cincinnati May Festival has been held regularly under the conductorship of Dr. Otto Singer, Arthur Mees, Frank Van der Stucken, and others. For several years, starting in 1881, the city also held annual opera festivals.

To follow the spread of the festival epidemic from coast to coast would be impossible. Nearly every city and town in the country has at one time or other been infected. With some of them it has become chronic. Boston had it for a time. New York and Chicago later caught it from Theodore Thomas, but recovered quickly. We may also mention the peace jubilees of Patrick Sarsfield Gilmore, which were a particularly virulent form of the trouble. In Maine there have been regular festivals for eighteen years, with centres in Bangor and Portland. They are very big and well-conducted affairs, with a mammoth chorus, a large orchestra and soloists of international reputation. Similar in type are the South Atlantic States musical festivals held at Birmingham and Spartansburg for the last twenty years. Chicago has had a North Shore Festival Association for six seasons. Then there are the festivals of the North American Sängerbund, the North Eastern Sängerbund, and the innumerable Männergesangvereine all over the country; the Youngstown Music Festival, the Albany Music Festival, the festival of the Buffalo Musical Association and the Wednesday Club of Richmond, the Hampden County Festival, and the Kansas Farmers' Easter Festival; festivals in Los Angeles, Seattle, and Bellingham on the coast—a perfectly bewildering array of festivals.

There are, however, two festivals which stand out from all the others by virtue of their origin and the nature of their activities. The older of these is the[Pg 224] Norfolk Festival of the Litchfield County Choral Union, which has now (1914) completed its twenty-eighth season. This is not a drummed-up affair. It is a perfectly natural outgrowth of the numerous old singing societies with which Litchfield county was dotted in the psalm-singing days; it is in the best sense a product of the soil. The Litchfield County Choral Union grew out of the association of neighboring small ensembles for the occasional production of large choral works in a manner which none of them individually could accomplish in an effective manner. The purpose was a very useful one and it has had the effect of raising materially the standard of the choral work among the small societies composing the union. The Norfolk Festival itself, which is a comparatively recent institution, owes most of its present value to the efforts of Robbins Battell, the founder of the professorship of music at Yale, and more specially to the generosity and artistic idealism of Carl Stoeckel, who was, during Mr. Battell's lifetime, his secretary and aid. Mr. Stoeckel, as Mr. Battell's successor, has backed the festival with unstinted liberality. He has enabled it to bring before the public new works of famous as well as little known contemporary composers—particularly American—giving substantial cash prizes for the best new American compositions. He has placed at the disposal of the Litchfield County Choral Union a meeting place in ideal surroundings, modestly termed the 'Music Shed,' and he has brought to the support of the chorus for each festival an orchestra recruited from the best New York and Boston organizations, as well as an array of distinguished soloists. To secure the best possible performance of new works produced at the festival he has spared neither trouble nor expense, as may be instanced by the fact that he brought Jean Sibelius to America to conduct his own compositions. The value of these festivals to all the choral societies and church[Pg 225] choirs composing the Litchfield County Union is obvious, but they have a still wider and greater value in introducing to the world the creations of native American composers and in holding up an example of fine artistic idealism which cannot be without its influence on the soul of the nation.

Of peculiar interest is the MacDowell Festival, held annually since 1910 at Peterborough, N. H., under the auspices of the MacDowell Memorial Association. It is a fact that Edward MacDowell did some of his best and most characteristic work—the Norse and Keltic sonatas, the New England Idyls and Fireside Tales, and many songs and choruses—in a log cabin on his farm at Peterborough, 'surrounded by enormous pines facing through a lovely vista Monadnock and the setting sun.' Realizing the value to a creative artist of such inspiring surroundings, he conceived the idea of bequeathing the place as a centre for artists seeking congenial conditions for work and rest. After his death the property was transferred by Mrs. MacDowell to the MacDowell Memorial Association. To quote the language of the deed of gift, 'it is expressly and especially desired that this home of Edward MacDowell shall be a centre of interest to artists working in varied fields, who, being there brought into contact, may learn to appreciate fully the fundamental unity of the separate arts. That in it the individual artist may gain a sympathetic attitude toward the works of artists in fields other than that in which such artist tries to embody the beautiful by recognizing that each part has a special function just so far as it has gained a special medium of expression.'

It is obvious that the beneficent influence of the MacDowell bequest is not confined to music, but it is natural under the circumstances that music should be the main beneficiary. Consequently the MacDowell Festival, which is a sort of annual get-together party, is predominantly[Pg 226] a musical event, though the drama and the dance have their share in it. It is valuable primarily as the free expression of æsthetic aspiration unshackled by the deadening fetters of commercialism; and secondarily as a reasonably good opportunity for the American composer to obtain a public hearing. If its intent is finer than its accomplishment that is a fault unfortunately only too common to idealistic enterprises. Locally it accomplishes something of practical artistic value by supporting the MacDowell Choral Club (75 voices) and the MacDowell Choir of Nashua (100 voices), both under the leadership of Eusebius Godfrey Hood, and undoubtedly it exercises a stimulating effect upon those who participate in it.

One cannot omit here a notice of the pageant movement which has grown to quite striking proportions in America within the past few years and which its leading promoters designate as the most significant feature of our present artistic development. The term pageant is not particularly definitive. As applied to certain mediæval entertainments it was sufficiently explicit, but being a convenient and picturesque word it has been borrowed somewhat freely and indiscriminately of recent years. The beginning of the modern pageant occurred in England in 1905 and its father was Sir Gilbert Parker. It is a sort of tableau vivant, recreating for a few hours some especially picturesque period of the country's history. The Elizabethan period seems to be preferred. Music enters into it only incidentally. Boston was the first American city to adopt the idea. This was in 1908. Quebec followed soon afterward and Philadelphia staged an elaborate pageant in 1912. All these were modelled after the English type.

In the meantime some Americans, notably William Chauncy Langdon and Arthur Farwell, had been evolving an idea to which they applied the convenient name of pageant but which is fundamentally different from[Pg 227] the English type and its imitators. Briefly, the new pageant is a community drama; it is a drama with the place for its hero and the development of the community for its plot. In this novel type of drama the individual is entirely submerged and the historical incidents are chosen rather for their symbolical value than for their intrinsic interest. The spirit informing the history of the community is the dominant theme. Out of this idea, it is claimed, there is being developed a new art-form representatively American and interpretative of the American spirit. The first pageant embodying the community idea was written by William Chauncy Langdon for Thetford, Vt., in 1911. Some of the music was composed by James T. Sleeper, but most of it was adapted. The pageant of St. Johnsbury, Vt., also written by Mr. Langdon, followed in 1912. Brookes C. Peters, a local man, composed most of the music for it. Then came the pageant of Meriden, N. H., in 1913, in which Mr. Langdon and Arthur Farwell collaborated and which was the first pageant composed as a musical art form complete. Mr. Farwell brought to this work a large enthusiasm for the idea and an ardent faith in its possibilities, and he has since taken a very conspicuous part in its development. The pageant of Darien, Conn., in 1913, composed by him to the book of Mr. Langdon, shows considerable progress in the evolution of the pageant as a distinct art-form. Another step in advance was taken by the pageant of Cape Cod in 1914, written by Mr. Langdon with music by Daniel Gregory Mason. The elaborate pageant and masque of St. Louis in 1914 was of a somewhat different order and resembled more closely the English type. The music of the masque was composed by Frederick S. Converse, and, being conceived as an independent art unit rather than as incidental music, may be regarded as a new departure in the 'masque' rather than a development of the pageant-form.

[Pg 228]

Regarding the musical side of this and other pageants Mr. Langdon says in a letter to the writer: 'So far as I know in no English pageant has there been any attempt to recognize the pageant as a new musical art-form in itself and to develop the music as an art-unit, comparable to the sonata, symphony, or opera. The music has all been incidental music, though often filling quite thoroughly all openings for anything of the kind. Herewith much original composing has been done, and some of it at least very fine composing. The formative idea, or precedent I almost call it, is to be found in the chorus of the Greek drama set to music. So, too, the music written for the Philadelphia pageant of 1912 is of the same type, as that pageant itself was modelled after the English type quite closely rather than following the American departures. But thus far, so far as I know, my pageants are the only ones that regard the pageant as a musical as well as dramatic art-form and seek to work out its development as such.' Certainly the new pageant is one of the most interesting developments in American art, and it is especially interesting in view of the fact that it is a distinctly American idea particularly well calculated, one would think, to be a vehicle for the expression of the American spirit. So far, of course, it is largely an experiment and its history lies rather in the future than in the past. Its susceptibility to national application favors its possibilities considerably.

The lack of such susceptibility lessens the importance of many other local and very characteristic art developments. The most interesting of these are the Grove Plays, or Midsummer High Jinks of the Bohemian Club of San Francisco, which are briefly an expression in drama and music of the spirit of joy. Climate, locale and a body of artists with the sort of traditions indicated by their club name, combine to give these affairs their characteristic flavor, and it is doubtful if they[Pg 229] could be imitated successfully under different conditions. But it would seem that similar attempts at local expression, whatever form they may take, are likely to become common in America in the future, and serve as valuable and much-needed stimulants to the creation of a worthy native art.

W. D. D.

CHAPTER X
MUSICAL EDUCATION IN AMERICA

There seems to be general agreement among students of American music that we are entering upon a national era. That we did not attain this stage long before has generally been laid to the inadequacy of our educational system in music. A less apparent yet more rational statement would be that our educational equipment, growing with the increasing culture of the people and adapting itself to their timely needs and developing comprehension, was the kind most desirable. A 'mugwump' was defined by General Horace Porter as 'a man educated beyond his ability.' Had a European system of musical education, however theoretically ideal, been imposed on young America when necessarily occupied with material problems, we might now be a nation of musical mugwumps, smugly satisfied with ourselves, and incapable of original achievement.

If it be granted, then, that musical culture is conditioned, in kind and degree, upon the character of the people concerned, then the colonization of our country becomes a subject of prime importance, affording, indeed, the best logical method, in conjunction with a general chronological order, for discussing the present subject.

The various colonies which were planted on our[Pg 231] eastern shores developed by permeating in successive waves of immigration New York, northern Ohio, Indiana and Illinois, and Michigan and Wisconsin; thence the lines became divergent, broadening through the trans-Mississippi plains until, emerging on the Pacific, they embrace the entire coast, from Seattle to Los Angeles. While the original spirit has been greatly tempered in the course of this progress, its distinctive character still remains—a pale tinge of Puritanism, as it were, which colors every expression of life, and which can be traced on the sociological map of the United States by a narrowing belt of ever-deepening hue, back to its undiluted source: the all-pervasive theocracy of colonial New England.

From the time when this religious influence began to reach beyond its original boundaries, it met and amalgamated, in a social though not sectarian sense, with Presbyterianism, a kindred spirit which, somewhat later than Puritanism, came to America, largely from Scotland, and took root in almost all the colonies from New York to the Carolinas. The 'blue laws' of Connecticut, so repressive of the graces of life, of love and laughter and music, found their counterpart in the Westminster Catechism, wherein the 'moral law,' that is, the regulation of social relations, is said to be 'summarily comprehended in the Ten Commandments,' the first four of which are specifically religious.

Religion being the dominant factor in this stream of social influence which flowed through America, and the Bible standing as the chief and final authority on all matters of life, music, the ever-willing handmaid of every human institution asking her assistance, was naturally drafted into the exclusive service of the church. The first singing books were psalm books; the first singing schools were organized for the purpose of the instruction and training of church congregations and church choirs.

[Pg 232]

I

Private instruction in music was unknown for more than a century after the settlement of the country. In 1673 the British Commissioner for the Plantations reported that there were no 'musicians by trade' in the United States. Indeed, it was not until 1730 that an advertisement appears of a music teacher. In that year a newspaper in Charleston, S. C., printed a notice that John Salter was teaching music in a young ladies' boarding school conducted by his wife.

It is true that some of the psalm-books contained hints for singing, but these were either too obvious or too vague to be of practical value. Thus in the 1698 edition of the 'Bay Psalm-Book' (the work, first published in 1640, ran through seventy editions) there is this general direction: 'First, observe how many note-compass the tune is next the place of your first note, and how many notes above and below that, so as you may begin the tune of your first note, as the rest may be sung in the compass of your and the people's voices, without Squeaking above or Grumbling below.'

As we have seen (in Chapter II), the first books of psalmody pretending to be works of instruction were those of the Rev. John Tufts, of Newbury, Mass., published in 1712 and 1714, and that of the Rev. Thomas Walter, of Roxbury, Mass., published in 1721. Largely as a result of Tufts' and Walter's publications, singing schools to teach the reading of psalm-tunes by sight began to be established in New England, although not without strenuous opposition.

In 1723 the Rev. Thomas Symmes, of Bradford, Mass., published a 'joco-serious dialogue concerning regular singing,' which bore the title 'Utile Dulci.' In this he presents and answers prevalent objections to singing by note, among which the following are significant of the[Pg 233] ignorance, intolerance and pruriency of the 'unco guid' of that day:

'5. That it is Quakerish and Popish, and introductive of instrumental musick.

'6. That the names given to the notes are bawdy, yea blasphemous.'

The second stimulus to musical education in America was imparted by various American reprints of two English books on psalmody: W. Tansur's collection, 'The Royal Melody Complete,' published in 1754, and Aaron Williams' 'The New Universal Psalmodist,' published in 1763. The prevalent taste in England for musical rococo, such as florid and meaningless 'fuguing choruses,' was thus transplanted to the colonies, where it made a deep impression which was harder to remove and persisted longer than in the mother country.

The most conservative strain of English musical culture, that associated with the Anglican church, existed also in America, awaiting its turn to reign, when growth in general culture and artistic capacity should cause the people to tire of the ingratiating but inconsequential music which held sway. Its exponent was William Tuckey, an English musician of high training and culture, who came to New York in 1753 and made an earnest attempt to educate the colonial people in an appreciation of the best church music. His career as teacher as well as organist and composer has already been touched upon in these pages (see Chap. II). Tuckey called himself 'Professor of the Theory and Practice of Vocal Music,' and the part he played in the musical education of New York and Philadelphia fully justifies the assertion that he was the first teacher in America worthy of the title. His pupils became prominent in all movements of their respective cities for the elevation of not only sacred but secular music to the best standards of Europe.

Already there was the leaven of German influence[Pg 234] working for the betterment of music in America. In 1741 Moravian Brethren in their community at Bethlehem, Pa., a little town which has retained to the present day the distinction of being a home of music of the highest order, had established singing schools. Ten years later they formed, in connection with these, an orchestra for the rendition of secular as well as sacred music. In the correspondence of the time, lovers of their country, men who, like Samuel Adams, of Boston, had begun to think nationally and who shortly afterward were to become patriots of the Revolution, put on record their gratification at this important contribution to American culture.

A taste for good music and a desire to inculcate it were also developing in Philadelphia and Baltimore, as shown by records of the time. In 1764 the vestry of St. Peter's and Christ Church in the prosperous city founded by William Penn extended a vote of thanks to two of its most cultured and public-spirited citizens, William Young and Francis Hopkinson (who was soon to achieve distinction as a poet and patriot of the Revolution), for instructing the children of the church in psalmody. In 1765, at St. Anne's Church, Baltimore, Hugh Maguire, probably the organist, established a singing school, for use in which he published 'a new version of the psalms, with all the tunes, both of particular and common measure.' He announced that he would teach singing at their homes to young ladies who played the spinet, his remuneration to be fifteen shillings a quarter and an entrance fee of one dollar.

Returning to New England, we find in William Billings, the 'great Yankee singing-master,' the most important musical influence of the time. The date of publication of his original compositions, 1770, marks an era in American music. By this time the old psalm-tunes in use, only four in number, were worn to death, and the new tunes, having been composed in the novel[Pg 235] fuguing style of the English compositions, became instantly popular with the singing schools, which Billings was energetic in organizing and conducting. The most notable of these, that at Stoughton, Mass., is elsewhere described, as well as the general activities of Billings and other teachers of the same general school.

In the circle of musical development of which Philadelphia was the centre, Andrew Adgate of that city was the leading spirit. In 1784 he established an 'Institution for the Encouragement of Church Music' supported by subscription and governed by trustees. So fervent was Adgate in the cause of 'music for the people' that, as conductor of the institution, he organized 'public singings,' which became so popular that within a year the trustees, objecting to 'the indiscriminate assemblage' of the general public, restricted admission to subscribers. Adgate thereupon resigned his position and established a free school, 'Adgate's Institution for diffusing more generally the knowledge of vocal music.' It is significant of the public spirit of the 'cradle of independence' that he found a number of influential men willing to act as trustees of the new organization. The splendid institution which is now the University of Pennsylvania opened its doors to the new enterprise. Inviting requests to join these free classes, Adgate announced: 'The more there are who make this application and the sooner they make it, the more acceptable will it be to the trustees and the teacher.'

Adgate's Institution had a marked influence in Philadelphia in the development of musical appreciation, which is an essential precedent in any community of the practical cultivation of the art. Foreign music teachers after trying vainly in other places, such as New York, for something like remunerative recognition, finally found it in the city whose civic spirit had been broadened by Adgate to include artistic as well as material progress. Among these may be mentioned William[Pg 236] Tuckey, already noted; the English musician, Rayner Taylor, who came to America in 1792; and Filippo Trajetta, a Venetian, the son of the noted composer Tomaso Trajetta. Filippo was trained by the best masters, notably Piccini; entering the revolutionary army of Italy, he was captured by the royalists, but, escaping, fled to America, arriving in Boston in 1799, where he taught singing. He toured through the South as a theatrical manager, and finally settled in Philadelphia, teaching and composing music ('Washington's Dead March' being his most popular composition) until his death at the age of seventy-eight in 1854. He published 'Rudiments of the Art of Singing' as a text-book for the 'American Conservatorio,' an institution established in Philadelphia by his pupil, Uri K. Hill; in this he advocated the Italian system of solfeggio to supersede the 'defective sol-fa-ing' in universal use in America.

In New England, more particularly Boston, we find that the foreign influence was making itself felt in music through 'The Massachusetts Compiler,' a work which embodied something of the theory of music as given in the works of German, French, and English authorities. The introduction of this element was probably due to Hans Gram, the German organist at Brattle Church, Boston, who, with Oliver Holden and Samuel Holyoke, published the work in 1795. To Gottlieb Graupner, another German, was mainly due the foreign influence which caused Boston to become for half a century the leading city of the country in musical influence. The 'Philharmonic Society,' which was formed by Graupner and his associates in 1810, prepared the way for the Handel and Haydn Society, founded in 1815, which not only educated Boston and New England in musical appreciation, but had a formative influence on the taste of the entire country.

English talent conjoined at Boston with German in this educational work. Dr. G. J. Jackson, an English[Pg 237] musician of the order of William Tuckey and Rayner Taylor—indeed, he was Taylor's schoolmate—had come to America in 1796, and taught music at Norfolk and Alexandria, Va., and Baltimore, Philadelphia, and New York. In his northward progress he arrived in Boston in 1812, and became organist successively of the Brattle Street Church, King's Chapel, Trinity Church, and St. Paul's Church. He was the leading choirmaster of his day, teaching the English method of chanting, and was employed as music teacher by the first families. He published a book of chants, anthems, etc., and contributed original compositions to 'The Churchman's Choral Companion,' published in New York in 1808 by the Rev. William Smith. His friend Rayner Taylor was also represented in the collection.

II

A singing club, more social than serious in its purpose, had been formed at Harvard in 1786. In 1808 a novel institution, the 'Pierean Sodality,' was established at the college. This was a singing fraternity, the members of which were linked together by a common interest in music. The Sodality was the germ of the present Department of Music in Harvard University. Out of it there arose in 1837 the 'Harvard Musical Association,' composed of alumni of the college who had been members of the Sodality. The report of the committee on organization admirably described the fraternal function of music and stated the fashion in which this was to be realized by the new association:

'Nothing unites men more than music. It makes brothers of strangers; it makes the most diffident feel at home; the most shy and suspicious it renders frank and full of trust; it overflows the rocks of separation[Pg 238] between us; it comes up like a full tide beneath us, and opens a free intercourse of hearts.

'We propose, then, to form an association which shall meet here annually on commencement day: if for nothing more, at least to exchange salutations and review recollections, and feel the common bond of music and old scenes....

'But the ultimate object proposed is the advancement of the cause of music, particularly in this university. We would have it regarded as an important object of attention within its walls, as something which sooner or later must hold its place in every liberal system of education; and that place not accidental or a stolen one, but formally recognized. We that love music feel that it is worthy of its professorship, as well as any other science.'

As we shall see later this high purpose was fulfilled in the establishment of a Department of Music in Harvard on an equal basis with the other departments. The association stated that one of its objects was to collect a musical library, and another to promote the production of great symphonies. This program was greatly extended in the course of the existence of the association; chamber concerts, hitherto unknown in Boston, were given in the winter under the leadership of such artists as Herwig and Hohnstock. These concerts led in 1849 to the organization of the Mendelssohn Quintet Club for the exclusive cultivation of chamber music. In 1852, with the moral backing of the association, J. S. Dwight, one of its leading spirits, established 'Dwight's Journal of Music,' a periodical of the highest aim and most authoritative character. Its publication ceased in 1881.

The 'Handel Society of Dartmouth College,' discussed in another connection, had a fate unworthy of its high character and sadly significant of the low state of musical appreciation in the smaller colleges of the[Pg 239] times, and in the 'common people' from which class their students were chiefly drawn. It dwindled and died for lack of recruits. Pity it is that some loyal patron of the college had not provided for the perpetuation of the society, if only as a memorial of Dartmouth's chief glory, even surpassing that of having trained in some measure the classic rhetoric and Olympian accents of the greatest of American orators. Our democracy alone, unaided by college culture, produced Lincoln, in most minds the rival of Webster in perfect phrase and his superior in heart-moving utterance, if not in ear-entrancing tone. It has not yet brought forth the compeers of these in music, since education is required to supply the nurturing musical environment found abroad but hitherto lacking in American life. Had music been permanently established as a part of the curriculum of Dartmouth alone, not to speak of the other colleges, a few young men with a native taste for it would undoubtedly have been found in every class and these would have cherished and transmitted the sacred fire with increasing ardor until the inevitable time arrived when native genius would be kindled into immortal flame.

III

A new order of native-born music teachers, those who pursued European methods in their instruction, was now arising. The chief of this class was Lowell Mason. Mason was born at Medfield, Mass., and spent his youth and early manhood in Savannah, Ga., where he was engaged in business. A music-lover from early childhood, he carried to the South the psalmody of New England, but, becoming master of a church choir, he felt the inadequacy of existing collections of church music and, with the valuable assistance of a local music[Pg 240] teacher, Mr. Abel, prepared a new one suited to his needs.

He came to Boston seeking a publisher and found it in the Handel and Haydn Society, which, in 1822, not only published the collection but gave the society's name to it. It met with great success, running through many editions. In 1826 its compiler delivered a series of lectures in Boston churches on church music which attracted such favorable attention that he was induced to make his home in the city. In time he became president of the Handel and Haydn Society, and, when the Boston Academy of Music was established, largely through his efforts, he was put in charge of it.

At this period began a movement to reform radically our entire system of school instruction, and the moment was propitious for the introduction of music in the public schools, a purpose upon which Mr. Mason had set his heart. In 1830 William C. Woodbridge delivered before the American Institute of Instruction in Boston an address on 'Vocal Music as a Branch of Common Education,' illustrated by Mason's pupils, in which the lecturer, recently returned from Europe, warmly advocated the cultivation of music as an essential element of American, as it was of foreign life. One sentence of his lecture is startling to us of the present generation in its inferential revelation of the primitive nature of juvenile instruction in the United States as late as 1830. Mr. Woodbridge, speaking of music being 'the property of the people' in Germany and Switzerland, heard in field and factory, and in gatherings for pleasure no less than in assemblies for worship, added: 'But we were touched to the heart when we heard its cheering animating strains issuing from the walls of a schoolroom.'

Mr. Woodbridge was an enthusiast over the Pestalozzian method as applied to instruction in music. He not only collected all the literature he could on the[Pg 241] subject, but even translated the more important works and turned over the entire material to Mr. Mason. This wise teacher experimented first with the method before adopting it. The success of the trial made him an ardent supporter of the new system of instruction, which completely overthrew the old custom of starting the pupil off with a complete tune and correcting defects as these manifested themselves. The Pestalozzian method is truly the natural one, building up, instead of patching up. This will be seen by examining its principles:

To apply this revolutionary method to teaching music was the central purpose of the establishment of the Boston Academy of Music. It had a useful career during the fourteen years of its existence. Mr. Mason, like Mr. Adgate, of Philadelphia, believed in 'music for the people,' and his generosity in extending this without considering material profit kept the institution in constant need of funds until it gave up the struggle and closed its doors in 1847.

The Academy was more than a New England institution: it was a national one, in that music teachers in every part of the country wrote to it for guidance in their work. And it left behind it the finest of mmorials,[Pg 242] the establishment in Boston, and, through Boston's example, all over the nation, of music in the public schools, not merely as a relief from other studies, but as a study itself. This innovation was made by the city fathers of Boston in 1837, after a trial of the propositions had proved successful. T. Kemper Davis, chairman of the school committee, made a long and learned report upon the subject which is a classic of its kind, and as such may be read with profit by teachers of music, particularly those in the public schools.[56]

Music in the public schools of New York had an independent origin. In 1835 Darius E. Jones experimented with the idea of forming singing classes in the schools and teaching them without compensation. The trial was successful, and the school board gave him permission to continue the work provided no expense was incurred and regular studies were not interfered with. Music in the New York schools was not effectively recognized by provision for compensation until 1853. T. B. Mason, the brother of Lowell Mason, introduced singing in the public schools of Cincinnati. Pittsburgh began such instruction in 1840. Nathaniel D. Gould, a music teacher and composer, claimed to have been the first to teach singing to children in a systematic method. From 1820 onward he organized such classes in New England, New York, and New Jersey.

The recognition by municipal authority of music as an essential element of education has been ratified in the fullest manner by national authority. Philander P. Claxton, United States Commissioner of Education, addressing the National Education Association convened at St. Paul, in July, 1914, asserted that music is of more practical value than any subject of the usual curriculum, except reading and writing, and with [Pg 243]these studies, and physical culture and arithmetic, forms the fundamentals in elementary education.

While in the later thirties colleges and universities were not prepared to grant music a place in the academic curriculum, they began to recognize it as an important element of culture, and to extend to it their patronage. In 1838 William Robyn, a professor in St. Louis University, formed, under the auspices of the institution, a musical society called the 'Philharmonic' for the performance of public concerts. These were well patronized.[57]

IV

The German immigration was in full force in the forties, cities such as St. Louis, Cincinnati, and Milwaukee becoming the homes of great numbers of this music-loving people. In the broad sense of the term, they formed the greatest educational influence in music that the country had yet received. It is said that wherever two Germans settled in America they organized themselves into a Sängerbund. Tyrolese and Swiss singers and bell-ringers began to tour the country in 1840 and delighted Americans of every class—even now they are popular in the Chautauqua circles. However, when, lured by the success of the jodlers, really fine German bands, such as the Steiermarkers, Gungl's band, the Saxonia and Germania, came over in quest of American dollars, they met with consistent failure, and were forced to dissolve—to the great benefit of American musical education, for the individual members generally became teachers of instrumental music in the localities where they were stranded. It was only by playing dance music and popular airs that the bands met [Pg 244]with any success whatsoever. Gungl (whose 'Railroad Galop,' an imitative composition, was the most popular in his répertoire) wrote home to a musical journal in Berlin that music 'lies still in the cradle here and nourishes herself on sugar-teats.'

The sentimental strain in German vocal music of the period made it more popular than German instrumental music, in that the American palate had been prepared for sentimentality by a saccharine sort of psalmody and secular music which was being sprinkled over the country by a second generation of Yankee music teachers of the Billings order. Elijah K. Prouty and Moses E. Cheney were leading representatives of this class. Prouty was a peddler, singing teacher, and piano tuner. Cheney was a leader of a church choir. In 1839 they organized and conducted a musical 'convention' at Montpelier, Vt., at which, with shrewd perception of popular interest in novelty and variety, they practised 'unusual tunes, anthems, male quartets, and duets and solos for both sexes.' For the secular music they used the 'Boston Glee Book and Social Choir,' compiled by George Kingsley. In order to attract the attendance of non-musical people, in the intervals between performances short debates were held between the local ministers, lawyers, and other prominent citizens.

In May, 1848, another musical convention was held in Chicago, which discussed the general question of musical education and the specific one of music in the public schools. Four years later William B. Bradbury led a similar but larger convention. At this convention the 'Alpine Glee Singer,' a compilation by Bradbury, was used for secular music, indicating the strong influence which the elementary sentimentality of German popular music exerted upon Americans. Sugared American psalmody, flavored with German sentimentality, and colored with a crudity of technique almost aboriginal[Pg 245] produced that sort of musical candy which we know as the Sunday-school song. Bradbury was a pioneer in the composition and publication of such music, although, to do him justice, the especially deleterious coloring of the mixture was added by his successors, among whom Ira D. Sankey and P. P. Bliss may be mentioned as chief offenders. The collections of this school of musical composers must be reckoned by thousands in editions and millions in numbers of copies. Bradbury alone compiled more than fifty singing books, containing many of his own compositions. Of these collections 'The Jubilee,' published in 1857, sold 200,000 copies; 'Fresh Laurels' (1867), 1,200,000 copies; and a series known as the 'Golden Series,' 2,000,000 copies.

This flood of sentimentality, completely inundating the Sunday-school, poured into the public school, and almost swamped the ark of juvenile education in music which careful hands had just committed to that great stream of popular culture. When music became recognized as an essential element of education, it was inevitable that the only available juvenile songs, those of the Sunday-school, should be introduced in the public schools. Indeed, the singing of anything in the schools was preferable to the entire absence of song, and so this order of music, representing, as it did, the popular taste of the time, marks, although we are loath to say it, an important step forward.

Dr. Lowell Mason was the chief assistant at an event which marks an epoch in American musical education, namely, the birth of the normal musical institute from the so-called musical convention. This occurred in 1856 at North Reading, Mass., where an annual musical convention of the usual sort was converted into a school of a fortnight's duration for instructing its members, particularly teachers, in both musical theory and practice. The example was followed all over the country to the great benefit of musical pedagogy. Associated with[Pg 246] Dr. Mason in this work of popularizing music was George F. Root, who journeyed over the country conducting conventions, lecturing, etc.[58]

V

During the second half of the nineteenth century the teaching of music passed in large measure from the hands of single, independent teachers into the direction of music masters associated in institutions for class instruction, which are generally known as conservatories, although this term in its European signification of a large, completely equipped and nationally endowed school of music is misleading. Indeed, the pretense seems to have been deliberate. Dr. Frank Damrosch, in an address on 'The American Conservatory,' before the Music Teachers' National Association at Oberlin, Ohio, in 1906, said:

While there are hundreds of conservatories of the class described by Dr. Damrosch scattered over the Union, a number of institutions are to be found which rank in thoroughness and comprehensiveness of instruction with the best European conservatories. These [Pg 247]have been in every instance of slow growth, the most pretentious in chartered plans having made early and signal failures in the province of musical education, though some of them won success in other musical activities. A typical example of this order is the Academy of Music of New York, whose career is recorded in Chapter VI.

The earliest American conservatory worthy of its name is the Conservatory of Music of the Peabody Institute, Baltimore, which was founded in 1857. Its chief contribution to American musical education has been the Peabody concerts, a series of eight performances having been given annually since 1865. From 1872 to 1898 Asger Hamerick, the Danish composer, was director. He organized an orchestra of fifty performers, which became, under his intelligent training, a highly efficient instrument for the rendition of the most advanced music. The programs of his concerts were formed of overtures, symphonies, concertos, suites, and vocal solos. He gave especial attention to works by American, English, and Scandinavian composers, performing for the first time in America many notable compositions, among them a number of his own. The good work of the Peabody concerts, attracting, as it has done, the respectful attention of foreign masters, should be a matter both of encouragement and pride to those who have the cause of American music at heart. It points the way to high attainment in our musical appreciation and notable achievement in native composition.

The year of 1867 is notable in American musical history for the establishment of five leading conservatories or musical colleges: the New England Conservatory in Boston; the Boston Conservatory; the Cincinnati Conservatory; the Oberlin Conservatory; and the Chicago Academy of Music, later known as the Chicago Musical College.

[Pg 248]

The New England Conservatory was founded by Eben Tourjée, whom Sir George Grove, in his 'Dictionary of Music and Musicians,' denominates the 'father of the conservatory or class system of instruction in America.' The nature of this system and its advantages have been well expressed by Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, who said: 'The class system has the advantage over the private instruction of the individual in that, by the participation of several in the same lessons and studies, a true feeling is awakened; and in that it promotes industry, spurs to emulation, and is a preservative from one-sidedness of education and taste.'

Dr. Tourjée, in 1851, at the age of seventeen, formed classes at his home, Fall River, Mass., for instruction in vocal and instrumental music. In 1859 he founded a musical institute at East Greenwich, where he greatly developed his method. In 1863 he visited Europe to gain information concerning the conduct of European conservatories, and upon the ideas thus secured he established the Providence Conservatory of Music, and in 1867 the New England Conservatory of Music in Boston. For a time he conducted both schools, then devoted himself exclusively to the latter. From its beginning the Boston institution secured the best masters available and gave a maximum of musical instruction at a minimum of cost. It has sent forth over the country thousands of accomplished pianists, organists, and vocalists, and, what is even more pertinent to the present subject, music teachers, trained in Tourjée's methods. After the founder died (in 1890), Carl Faelten acted as director, until in 1897 he founded a school of his own for instruction in the piano. No school of its kind stands higher in America.

In 1897 George W. Chadwick, the professor of harmony, composition, and orchestration, was made director of the New England Conservatory. For several[Pg 249] years Mr. Chadwick had conducted the annual musical festivals at Springfield and Worcester, Mass., and his special attention was thereby directed toward great orchestral and choral performances by the students, whose number was mounting into the thousands. By the generosity of patrons of the Conservatory, especially Eben D. Jordan, president of the trustees, a large building was erected in 1902, containing facilities for instruction superior even to those of European conservatories, and an auditorium, Jordan Hall, whose large size and fine acoustic properties render it one of the important concert halls of the country, use as such being frequently made of it by visiting artists, to the great advantage of the students as well as the general public. The instrumental equipment of the conservatory is large, the collection of organs, including the pipe organ in Jordan Hall, which is one of the largest in the world, being especially notable.

The conservatory possesses one of the best working musical libraries in the country, a unique feature being the choral library of the Boylston Club (founded 1872) and its successor, the Boston Singers, which contains many copies of manuscript treasures in European collections. This library was a gift to the conservatory by George L. Osgood. The Boston Public Library nearby contains the Allen A. Brown collection of musical books and manuscripts, which is excelled in America only by the Congressional Library at Washington. Accordingly, the pupils of the conservatory have at hand every facility for acquiring a musical education which the most ardent student could desire. It is not surprising that among its three thousand and more students every one of the forty-eight states of the Union is represented, as well as a dozen foreign countries, even distant Russia and Turkey.

The curriculum of the conservatory has been generally described by Frederick W. Colburn in 'The Musical[Pg 250] Observer' for July, 1913. Mr. Colburn, after mentioning special features, such as the conservatory orchestra of seventy-five members, affording the training and routine indispensable to professional performers whose ranks it is annually supplying, says: 'While the new is studied, the fundamentals are not lost sight of. All the courses have been planned to avoid turning out narrow and one-sided specialists. The management realizes that the professional musician has need of very broad and very correct culture. The students listen to lectures on the history and theory of music from such authorities as Louis C. Elson and Wallace Goodrich. The modern languages and English diction are taught by experts, several of whom are authors of their own text-books. The pianoforte instruction follows approved methods; it shows much of the influence of the late Carl Baermann, one of the most eminent of the German musicians who have settled in this country. The vocal instruction is along the lines of the old Italian method which has formed the voices of most of the world's great singers. The teaching of the organ accords with the practice of the best German and French organists. In all departments there is present the idea of thoroughly grounding the student in the essentials of musical art and of avoiding easy, ready-made and get-culture-quick methods.'

The Boston Conservatory, second in the list of five founded in 1867, was organized by Julius Eichberg, a distinguished German violinist and composer, who had been, since 1859, director of the orchestra at the Boston Museum. This speedily won and long maintained a high reputation, particularly for instruction in the violin, on which subject Eichberg prepared a number of valuable text-books.

The Cincinnati Conservatory of Music was founded by Clara Bauer, who still is active in its management, having charge of the home for the female pupils. This[Pg 251] was the first conservatory in the country to establish a residence department—indeed, its group of buildings and park-like grounds give the conservatory a truly academic aspect possessed by few institutions of its kind that are situated in cities. Miss Bauer, however, recognized from the beginning that the all-important element of a conservatory was its teaching force. She secured representative talent in the various branches of music from the various European musical centres, thereby securing warm approbation of the institution from foreign musical artists and critics. The faculty now numbers sixty members; it contains artists notable for excellence in every branch of musical arts and pedagogy. General cultural studies, such as dramatic art, literature, and modern languages, are conducted with special application to their relation to music.

The Cincinnati Conservatory was the first to conduct a summer music school. The sessions have been uninterrupted since 1867. Attended largely by music teachers, they have greatly advanced the cause of musical education in the territory tributary to the city.

The Oberlin Conservatory of Music, at Oberlin, presents so many object lessons of musical pedagogy that it demands rather extended treatment here.

In the first place, the institution had a natural origin: it was formed to teach psalmody to a religious community and, in growing beyond this limited field by adding one musical feature after another as the developing taste of the people demanded, it typifies the history of music in the nation. Secondly, the conservatory has a proper environment. It was planted in a soil already enriched by culture, Oberlin being the seat of a college distinguished for progressive ideas and high ideals, the reaction of which upon musical work is always inspiring—indeed, is essential to the highest achievement. Thirdly, the Oberlin Conservatory has a proper organization. It is a social democracy and[Pg 252] thereby calculated to produce that free and fraternal spirit which is the soul of art. Young men and women meet on equal terms and there are no distinctions among them based on wealth or nationality or even race, Oberlin having been the first college to include negroes among its students. Lastly, the conservatory has a sound program and is living up to this as well as could be expected in view of the pressure exerted on all 'schools of the people,' to supply immediate demands. It believes in constructive work, in learning by doing. Thus it regards a practical knowledge of the science of musical composition as necessary to an intelligent appreciation of musical masterpieces, and to this end has established a course in theory and composition which requires four years of hard study and assiduous practice. The class system of instruction is the one adopted as the chief method, it being supplemented by private instruction.

Dr. Florens Ziegfeld, a distinguished German pianist, still conducts (1915) the conservatory which he founded in Chicago—the last of the five started in 1867—under the name of the Chicago Academy of Music, and which is now called the Chicago Musical College. The institution was burned out in the great fire of 1871, but with indomitable courage Dr. Ziegfeld at once secured new quarters and continued his classes. The course of study was steadily enlarged until now it includes every department of music and the principal modern languages, the faculty being one of the strongest in the country, comparing favorably with those of European conservatories. By authority of the State of Illinois the college grants music teachers' certificates and confers musical degrees. The college is finely situated on Michigan Boulevard, overlooking Lake Michigan and Grant Park. It contains a concert hall seating 1,000. A student orchestra of seventy members is maintained,[Pg 253] affording practical training in conducting and ensemble playing.

In 1871 a conservatory of music was established in Jacksonville, Ill., the seat of Illinois College. Its founder was Professor W. D. Sanders, a leading Western educator, and its first director was I. B. Poznanski, a violinist and composer who later became instructor at the Royal Conservatory, London. In 1903 the conservatory was merged with the college. The Cleveland Conservatory of Music was also founded in 1871. It adopted the European conservatory method of instruction.

In 1873 Northwestern University at Evanston, Ill., became a co-educational institution and at once established a 'Conservatory of Music' that began, and for many years thereafter remained, on a low plane of instruction. The university authorities, in the manner of old-time monarchs, 'farmed out' to the director of the conservatory the privilege of running the business for a percentage of the receipts, and gave him a free hand and full responsibility. Naturally the conservatory was conducted in a way to produce the greatest immediate returns.

In 1891 Prof. P. C. Lutkin was put in charge of the conservatory. He insisted that the title be dropped and that the school be made a department of the university, directly under control of the university authorities; and that its director should receive a full professorship with a fixed salary, in order that educational ideals should not be compromised by financial considerations. These changes were authorized, and Professor Lutkin radically revised and extended the curriculum to make it conform to academic standards. By 1895 a four-years course was developed, to correspond with that of the Liberal Arts department. The 'Department of Music' then assumed the title of 'School of Music' and became a coördinate division of the[Pg 254] university, like the School of Law, the School of Mines, etc., with its own dean and faculty. Its pupils, of course, retained all the opportunities for general culture afforded by the college of Liberal Arts.

In an address delivered before the Music Teachers' National Association at Oberlin in 1906, Professor Lutkin said: 'The exact point where general education should give way to the study of music is a much discussed one, and we will not stop to consider it here, except to say that we have placed it at the point of entrance-requirements in the College of Liberal Arts. The fact that the students are able to pursue advanced work in history of music, harmony, counterpoint, analysis, etc., is of itself a clear index as to their mental capacity, and places them, without doubt, upon a plane of mentality quite up to that required of college students.' The music department of the Northwestern University now ranks with the best conservatories in the country.

Concerts have always formed the leading element in developing American appreciation of music. The enthusiasm created by the festivals conducted in Cincinnati by Theodore Thomas in the early seventies led directly to the establishment in 1878 of the Cincinnati College of Music by Miss Dora Nelson. The institution was planned along the lines of European conservatories, with a close relation to superior public performances in the city, the patrons of which were patrons of the college. With a fine faculty the institution has retained to the present the high reputation it won at the outset. Theodore Thomas was the first musical director of the school, and among his successors is Frank Van der Stucken.

Of the important Chicago schools of music the earliest was the Chicago Conservatory, established in 1884. Quite a typical institution is the American Conservatory of Chicago. It was founded in 1886 by its present head,[Pg 255] President John J. Hattstaedt, with the assistance of several of Chicago's music-loving citizens. Its quarters were in Weber Hall Building, corner of Wabash Avenue and Jackson Street, which were retained for ten years, when the conservatory was removed to the adjoining building—Kimball Hall, where it still remains.

From a small institution it has grown to be one of America's largest schools of music, registering about 2,000 students annually. The faculty numbers seventy-five, and contains many teachers of national reputation. A modern and thorough curriculum includes all branches of instrumental and vocal music, theory and composition, dramatic art, expression, physical culture, and modern languages. Special features are: a complete and well-established Normal School, a student's orchestra, a musical bureau and a carefully arranged series of faculty and pupils' recitals.

In 1885 two conservatories, the American Institute of Applied Music and the National Conservatory of Music, were established in New York. Miss Kate S. Chittenden was the founder of the Institute, Mrs. Jeannette M. Thurber of the Conservatory. Both are flourishing to-day under control of the founders and with excellent faculties and ample musical facilities.

The National Conservatory, because of certain philanthropic features, is deserving of special mention as a type of institution which is not wholly commercial in its ends, and which has prepared the way for a type that is purely artistic in its purposes. It offers musical instruction to every applicant without regard to race, sex, or creed, the sole condition being that he shall give proof of a natural talent for music; this instruction it imparts without cost to those unable to pay.

The title of National Conservatory is formally justified by the fact that it was chartered in 1891 by a special act of Congress, the official home being designated as Washington. A far better claim to the title could[Pg 256] be based on the facts that names of even more than national fame appear on the roll of its faculty from the beginning, when such musicians as Rafael Joseffy, Camilla Urso, and Victor Herbert were connected with the institution, down through Dvořák's brilliant régime to the present day.

The Conservatory at its outset secured experts in special lines of music as instructors. For three years (1892-95) Dr. Antonin Dvořák was its director. Under his management liberal prizes were awarded for original compositions, and the works, a symphony by Henry Schoenefeld, a piano concerto by Joshua Phillen, a suite for string orchestra by Frederick Bullard, and a cantata by Horatio W. Parker, were performed in public concert. Under the direction of the distinguished composer the National Conservatory orchestra became notable not only for artistic excellence, but, what pertains more to the present subject, for the superior training it afforded poor young men of talent, and the places this enabled them to obtain in leading American orchestras. This work, of course, did not cease with Dr. Dvořák's retirement.

An institution incorporating in a systematic and substantial way the public and philanthropic spirit which has called into existence so many of our conservatories and schools of music is the Institute of Musical Art of the City of New York. This is the model institution of its kind in America; and, as there is promise that its example will be followed in other cities of the Union, leading to the establishment of musical education on a high and uniform plane, it deserves special notice.

Recognizing that schools of music, inaugurated with fine ideals and a sound program to attain these, have almost without exception been forced by the need of funds to lower their standard and modify their curricula to suit the popular demand for easy and flashy courses, Dr. Frank Damrosch determined to found an[Pg 257] institution wherein commercial considerations would not enter. In James Loeb, a New York banker, he found a patron of art in thorough sympathy with the project. By a fund of a half million dollars, given in memory of his mother, Betty Loeb, Mr. Loeb put the splendid idea into concrete form, and in 1905 established and endowed the Institute of Musical Art with Dr. Damrosch as its director.

The purpose of the Institute is to provide thorough and comprehensive courses in music, each of which is planned to include every study necessary for mastering a particular branch of music, and all of which taken together cover the whole art. The Institute is enabled to execute this plan inflexibly because it is independent of tuition fees, since the revenue from these is supplemented by the interest of the funds. Accordingly the fees have been fixed at moderate and uniform rates, while no expense is spared in securing the best talent available as a teaching and training force.

The roll of the faculty contains seventy-seven names. The faculty council which directs the policy of the Institute consists of the director and five other experts. Since operatic and concert managers agree that individual instruction and criticism cannot be too carefully given in the case of students intending to make the performance of music a profession, and, as this thorough system of education is equally beneficial to the amateur, it has been adopted by the Institute. Theoretical subjects are the only ones taught in class.

In addition to the direct personal teaching which the student receives, he is surrounded by artistic and educational influences calculated to broaden his general knowledge and culture and to improve his taste and discrimination. The discipline which is an essential principle of the Institute, and which is lacking in private instruction, where the pupil often demands and[Pg 258] obtains relaxing modifications of the instructor's system to suit his inclinations, since he is paying for his education, is of the highest value in developing character. Students of an art which in its nature tends to overstimulate the emotional nature need a corrective cultivation of the powers of the intellect and the will which students of other subjects do not so much require, since, from their studies, intellectual development is acquired directly and, reason being the governor of the will, control of this great moral force is indirectly imparted.

Like the National Conservatory the Institute is open to students of both sexes, irrespective of creed or race. The only demand is that they give proof of general intelligence, musical ability and serious purpose. Every regular student is required to follow a prescribed course not only in the specific branch which he has selected, but, in order to provide a proper foundation for this, in the subject of music in general. The student begins the course at the stage for which his attainments and abilities have prepared him, as these are indicated by three tests: as to his general knowledge of music; as to his sense of musical hearing; as to his vocal or instrumental talent.

The departments of study are singing, piano, organ, stringed instruments, orchestra, public school music and theoretic course. The courses are divided into seven grades, the last four being post-graduate. The post-graduate diplomas are of two types, called teachers' and artists'. For the teachers' diploma two grades of pedagogy and advanced work in theory and technique are required; for the artists', either two or three grades in theory, technique, and ear training, according to the proficiency of the student, which is tested not only by work done in the Institute, but by a public recital before musicians not connected with the Institute. The work of the seventh grade in the artists'[Pg 259] course is confined to the study of composition in the various forms of complete sonata, chamber music, vocal forms, overture and orchestration. A prize sufficient to provide for a year of European life and experience is given annually to that graduate in any of the artists' courses, or in composition, whom the faculty and trustees think most deserving of the award and distinction.

The leading schools of music in Canada are the Toronto Conservatory of Music and the Conservatorium of Music in McGill University at Montreal.

The Toronto Conservatory was founded by the late Dr. Fisher in 1886 and opened in 1887. In the thoroughness of its courses and the completeness of its equipment it ranks with the best conservatories in Europe. In 1897 it purchased its present centrally located site, in close proximity to the cluster of educational and public buildings, and began the erection of the structures which now form its commodious home. Its music hall is architecturally one of the finest edifices of the kind and its auditorium is acoustically one of the most satisfactory halls in Canada for chamber music and other recitals. It contains a three-manual concert organ which is a masterpiece of Canadian workmanship. The main hall is supplemented by smaller ones for lectures and recitals and by practice rooms equipped with two-manual organs. The musical equipment in general is ample and comprehensive, meeting the needs of the 2,500 pupils in attendance.

On the death of Dr. Fisher in 1913, Dr. A. S. Vogt, whose work as conductor of the Mendelssohn Choir of Toronto is well known, and who had been for many years teacher of piano in the Conservatory, was advanced to the position of director. The faculty consists of 139 professors and instructors. It is almost exclusively British in composition, in striking contrast to the[Pg 260] faculties of leading conservatories in the United States, on whose roll Continental European names abound, often to the point of a majority. However, many of the instructors have received their education at foreign conservatories.

The Conservatory is divided into eleven departments, schools for the piano, the voice, the organ, the violin, and other stringed instruments, theoretical instruction, embracing harmony, counterpoint, composition, orchestration, musical history and acoustics, orchestral and band music, expression (including education, physical culture, etc.), modern languages, piano tuning, and kindergarten music method. The extremely practical elements of this curriculum indicate the attention paid to the fundamental needs of the public.

The Conservatory maintains an orchestra for practice in routine and training for students sufficiently advanced to justify their assignment to places in the organization. Frank E. Blatchford, of the violin faculty, who is also concert master of the Toronto Symphony Orchestra, is the conductor.

The Conservatory is affiliated with its near neighbor, the University of Toronto. Students who pass the conservatory examinations in musical theory are exempted from corresponding examinations by the University for the degree of Bachelor of Music. In its desire to spread at least a measure of musical knowledge and appreciation among the people, the conservatory conducts correspondence courses in musical theory, and, for the convenience of practice, especially in the piano, maintains eleven branches in the outlying residential districts of Toronto.

The McGill University Conservatorium was opened in 1904. The Conservatorium, however, was then only in its experimental stage and it was not until October, 1908, that the connecting link between the University and the Conservatorium was completed by the appointment[Pg 261] as director of Dr. Harry Crane Perrin, professor of music in the University. In 1909 the orchestra was formed, which was composed of students of the Conservatorium, and in February of that year they gave their first orchestral concert.

VI

Henry Dike Sleeper, professor of music in Smith College, a women's college of the first rank, has made an interesting analysis of the character of musical instruction given in the leading universities and colleges where the subject is taught. He says that there are four ideals of study:

1. Musical composition: Great emphasis is laid on this at the University of Pennsylvania, and it is a predominant, though lesser element in the schemes of Harvard and Yale.

2. Public performance: This is the chief feature of education in the conservatories affiliated with, but not a part of the regular academic course. These conservatories are founded largely in the West and South, and are connected with colleges that either are for women or are co-educational.

3. Culture: Amherst, Beloit, Cornell, and Tufts are examples of institutions where the music courses tend chiefly to imparting musical appreciation.

4. A balance of the three: composition, concerts, culture. Examples of where this ideal of rounded development is sought for are the women's colleges, Smith and Mount Holyoke, and co-educational institutions, such as Oberlin and Ohio Wesleyan, and the State Universities of Michigan, Wisconsin, and Nebraska.

In the light they throw on the status of musical education in American universities the following authoritative[Pg 262] statistics, the latest of the kind compiled, are illuminating:

In a monograph on 'Music Instruction in the United States,' prepared by Arthur L. Manchester after exhaustive inquiry and published by the United States Bureau of Education in 1908, the enrollment of students of music in 151 colleges and universities was 18,971, of whom 5,257 were men and 13,714 were women. There was an average attendance in each institution of about 125.

Dr. Rudolf Tombo, registrar of Columbia University, in an article in 'Science' for December 25, 1908, and January 1, 1909, stated that from statistics supplied him by twenty-five leading universities, not counting summer schools conducted under their auspices, ten had departments of music and five had courses of music. In a total attendance in all departments of all the twenty-five universities amounting to 35,885, the students of music numbered 1,940, which is only 5.4 per cent. of the total.

When the great popular interest in music, as exhibited by the attendance at operas, concerts, and musical festivals, is taken into consideration, this low percentage would indicate that the universities are not adopting attractive methods of musical instruction. Evidently the cause of higher musical education will be more readily served by improving the character of instruction in the conservatories, where enthusiasm among the students prevails, than by attempting to wake up university men from their indifference to music—for enthusiasm is a prerequisite in all studies and pursuits.

The pioneer in creating a department of music in American universities was John K. Paine, teacher of music in Harvard in one capacity or another from 1862 until 1905, when he retired on a pension. Although practical music courses, piano-playing and singing, were taught in women's colleges, notably Vassar, before[Pg 263] Mr. Paine began his work in Harvard, he was the first teacher to direct his energies toward establishing music as an academic study, on an equality with all the other branches, counting like them for the arts degrees of A. B. and A. M.

The history of music is obviously an academic study, and Mr. Paine judiciously began his campaign by securing permission in 1870 to deliver a university course of lectures on the subject. In 1870 he had persuaded the faculty to introduce harmony and counterpoint in the curriculum, counting for the bachelor of arts degree. After this vital concession, the faculty could not well deny to music full standing in the university. In 1875 Mr. Paine was appointed professor of music.

The indifference of the students to the art, and their prejudice against music as an academic study, were harder to contend with. For twenty years Prof. Paine carried on his work without assistance in instruction and with small classes. Then the students seemed suddenly to wake up to the fact that a department of music conducted on the high plane of Oxford and the great German universities was a matter to be proud of, and they began in increasing numbers to embrace the rare advantage extended to them. When Prof. Paine retired he had three assistants in his work and over two hundred students in his classes.

Prof. Walter R. Spalding, Mr. Paine's successor, aided by able teachers, such as Edward Burlingame Hill, instructor in musical history, have continued the good work of the founder. The course is essentially theoretical; it includes harmony, counterpoint, musical form, musical history, and the higher branches of composition, including orchestration. In 1912 the students of the department established the 'Harvard Musical Review,' a publication of high ideals.

Professor Paine, and Professors Parker and MacDowell, his contemporaries at Yale and Columbia, respectively,[Pg 264] achieved fame as practical exponents of the art in its highest realm. Professors of music in European universities as a rule are learned theorists and historians, but not composers. It is a moot question which class of instructors is the better. In behalf of instruction by a creative genius it is claimed that it inspires students with pride in their teacher and, if training is afforded in composition, with desire to emulate his achievements. In behalf of the academic drill-master it is urged that the thorough grounding which he imparts develops that all-round ability in music which, when the purpose is in time realized by students, will itself generate enthusiasm. The respective merits of the two systems may thus be summed up: the American early develops musical appreciation, the European musical knowledge. Since these qualities have reciprocal influence, it would seem that the two systems should be combined, at least in America, where musical appreciation on the part of the student can not always be assumed, as in Europe.

Of the departments of music in women's colleges, that in Wellesley may be considered the most academic. A school of music was established in 1875, its pupils being drawn chiefly from the special students, who lacked preparation for the regular college studies and so were limited to the so-called 'accomplishments' of music and drawing, with a smattering of literature. As it became increasingly evident that the emphasis in the school of music was on performance—the development of highly specialized skill—and that the predominating interests in the college were intellectual rather than vocational, the school was seen to be out of place. The students diminished in members to less than 100 in 1895. In 1896-7 the school was converted into a regular department of the college, the curriculum in music being made mainly theoretical, the courses being harmony, counterpoint, musical form, history of[Pg 265] music, and free composition. The director since 1897 has been Hamilton C. Macdougall. There are eight other professors in the department faculty, and students number over two hundred. In 1907 Billings Hall was erected for the use of the department. While practice in music has been subordinated to theory, it has been retained and even improved since the school became the department. Indeed, in 1897 a college orchestra was organized.

The four leading women's colleges in the East, Vassar, Wellesley, Smith, and Mt. Holyoke, have much the same curriculum in music, instruction being given in both theory and practice with mutual benefit resulting from the reacting influence one on the other. In this respect it would seem that these institutions have a decided advantage over such universities as Harvard, where there is no training in musical performance.

In the same year that music was made a part of the curriculum of Harvard (1875), classes in music were inaugurated at the University of Pennsylvania under Professor Hugh A. Clarke. As has already been stated, the attention paid to composition is the distinguishing feature of the course.

In 1894 the department of music was established in Yale University, and Horatio W. Parker, Mus. D., was placed at its head. At present there are nine other professors and instructors in the faculty of the department. The aims of Dr. Parker and his assistants are to provide adequate instruction for those who desire to become musicians by profession, either as teachers or as composers, and to afford a course of study for those who intend to devote themselves to musical criticism and the literature of music. Accordingly the work of the department is divided into practical and theoretical courses. The practical courses consist of instruction in pianoforte, organ, violin, and violoncello playing, in singing, and in chamber music (ensemble-playing).[Pg 266] No student is admitted to a practical course other than singing and violoncello playing unless he is also taking at least one of the theoretical courses.

The theoretical courses are subdivided into elementary and advanced. The former class includes harmony, counterpoint, and the history of music; the latter class instrumentation, advanced orchestration and conducting, and strict and free composition. Both courses in composition are under the immediate direction of Dr. Parker, whose special fitness has been commented upon in another chapter. Dr. Parker requires every student in the composition courses to produce an extended original work. This usually takes the form of a sonata. The students are incited to excel in original composition as well as in artistic performance by the Sandford Fellowship, which gives two years' study abroad to the most gifted performer who shall also show marked ability as a composer.

Allied with the department is the New Haven Symphony Orchestra, a complete and well-equipped organization of seventy players, which gives a series of concerts during the winter. It affords opportunity to the students of orchestration to hear their work actually and adequately played, and, when its quality warrants, to have the composition publicly performed. Several original works are thus produced every year. They are commonly overtures, but piano concertos and other works have occasionally been presented.

The orchestra also opens to the student a gateway into professional life by admitting to it those whose performance on the violin or violoncello has been approved. Students of the piano, as well as of the violin, are allowed to rehearse with the orchestra and even to perform publicly if their fitness to do so has been demonstrated. The students give informal recitals from time to time and, toward the end of the[Pg 267] college year, a concert, accompanied by the Symphony Orchestra.

This insistence on the study of the theory of music and the demonstration of the theoretical principles by original composition as the only proper foundation of education in the art are the distinguishing characteristics of the Yale department of music, and the practical achievements of Dr. Parker and his students would seem to justify the soundness of the idea.

In 1896 Edward MacDowell, the composer, was called to the chair of music in Columbia University. Mr. MacDowell, either because of his temperament or the limitations imposed by the university on his work, did not find the position so congenial as Dr. Parker has done at Yale. Instead of being inspired by teaching to greater feats of composition, Mr. MacDowell seemed hampered, and, to the great loss of American music, produced fewer and fewer of those fine works which cause him to be acclaimed as the greatest of American composers. He resigned the position in 1904, two years before his death.

In 1906 the department of music which had developed independently in the Teachers' College was combined with the department in the university to form the Columbia School of Music. Cornelius Rübner, Mus. D., is the present head. The declared aims of Prof. Rübner and his four associates in the faculty of the school are to treat music historically and æsthetically, as an element of liberal culture; to teach it scientifically and technically, with a view to training musicians who shall be competent to teach and compose; and to provide practical training in orchestral music. There are a university chorus and an orchestra (the Columbia Philharmonic) in connection with the school, which present much the same opportunities to the students as those afforded by the New Haven Symphony Orchestra to the Yale students. The school holds two annual[Pg 268] concerts of original compositions by its students and conducts many other concerts as well as public lectures and recitals.

The various courses may be counted toward the degrees of bachelor of music, of arts, of science, and master of arts. The curriculum includes the history of music, conducted by Prof. Daniel Gregory Mason; harmony, counterpoint, sight-singing and playing; composition, orchestration, and symphonic form, conducted by Prof. Rübner. The school also offers courses in teaching and supervising music at the Teachers College. The equipment of the school is large and comprehensive. The department of music in the University Library contains a well-selected working collection not only of treatises but also of compositions. The private library of Anton Seidl, consisting of 1,220 scores, which was presented to the university, has been placed in the rooms of the School of Music.

The University School of Music at Ann Arbor, which is conducted by the Musical Society of the University of Michigan, was founded by Prof. Henry S. Frieze, and its membership is restricted to officers, graduates, and students of the university. In 1888 the present head of the school, Albert A. Stanley, took charge. He greatly strengthened the technical and theoretical work. Under his direction the policy of the school has been to train a few students thoroughly rather than many superficially. The courses are those generally given in schools of music connected with American universities: harmony, single and double counterpoint; canon and fugue; history of music; analysis and criticism; musical appreciation.

Since our Western State universities form each the summit of public education in its state, such institutions as Michigan pay much attention to training teachers of music in the public schools. The University of Wisconsin goes much further than this. In connection[Pg 269] with its admirable University School of Music, which is one of the best in the country in that not only the theory of music is taught in the most approved academic fashion, but practice is also afforded in choral and instrumental music, and it has established a 'university extension' division for educating the whole people of the state in music.

As stated in a bulletin of the university, the School of Music stands ready to assist any community in strengthening its musical life by the following means:

Truly an extensive program and one worthy of emulation.

VII

The introduction of music into the public schools has already been discussed. It is a great tribute to[Pg 270] the soundness of the pedagogic principles laid down by Mason and Woodbridge, the pioneers in juvenile musical education, that, despite the many new methods which have been tried, music in the public school is largely conducted along the original lines. Singing in chorus with use of specially prepared and successively graded exercises printed on charts or written on the blackboard and song books, and, most important of all, under the leadership of a teacher with winning personality and knowledge of the childish mind, has been found to produce the best results. So great proficiency has been achieved in the training of juvenile choruses for musical festivals that the only really satisfactory choruses given by a great multitude of persons are the choruses of children, some of which have exceeded three thousand voices.

The basis of juvenile instruction in music is marked rhythm and simple melody, with a short range of pitch, which are best taught in unison. The voices of the children with a good natural ear being fortunately in a large majority they tend to correct the defective auditory perception of the minority.

When the voices of the children are sufficiently trained by singing together simple rote songs, musical analysis is begun. The notes are taught to be recognized first by the ear, and then by the eye, and a practical application of this knowledge is made by exercises and songs. The same general process is pursued until, by the time the pupil reaches the higher grades, he has acquired an ability to sing at sight any new song which a non-professional musician is likely to be called on to render.

In small American towns the regular teachers in the public schools carry on musical exercises. But they are not without easy access to knowledge of approved methods, for this is published in a special magazine, 'The School Music Monthly,' which was established in[Pg 271] 1900. Many other magazines, educational as well as musical, contain articles and even departments on the subject.

Furthermore, there exists a great and influential organization, the Music Teachers' National Association, which was founded in 1876 with Dr. Eben Tourjée as its president. This uses every means in the power of an extra-governmental association to keep up the standard of musical education in the country. It holds annual sessions wherein methods in musical pedagogy are presented and discussed. In many states similar associations are found whose membership is confined to music teachers in the state. These are not affiliated with the National Association, and their activities are less general in scope, although of more immediate interest to the members because applied to matters of special concern.

Cities of from 8,000 to 200,000 inhabitants usually employ a special teacher to direct instruction in music in the public schools. Larger cities have a number of these teachers and one or more supervisors or directors of public school music. New York, for example, has one director, one assistant director and fifty-six special teachers. From the vastness and complexity of the situation in the largest cities, musical education has of necessity become highly systematized and correspondingly efficient.

New York perfected its system about 1900. The capstone may be said to be the public musical lectures and performances given in connection with the evening lecture courses presented in the public schools and other public buildings under the general auspices of the Board of Education and the special supervision of Dr. Henry M. Leipziger.

Indeed, it is only since the beginning of the century that the country in general has come to recognize at all adequately the supreme importance of musical[Pg 272] culture to community or civic life. As a result of this recognition there has been a general movement in the central and western states, and in encouragement of the study of music to add the forces of private instruction to public by giving credit in the schools for musical work done outside of them, which credit many state universities have in turn accepted by admitting high school graduates upon their certificates.

A more spectacular expression of appreciation of the value of music to community life is the growing use of children's singing for musical festivals, concerts, and pageants. In many cities the performance by public school children of concerts ranging from simple unison songs to part songs, cantatas, and even light operas has become a regular feature of community life. In many cases school orchestras and bands have accompanied the choruses. In this way the public schools have become foreshadowings of the conservatories and the university schools of music. In time the weak spot in our higher musical curricula, the course in 'musical appreciation' which so many idlers follow as a 'royal road' to a musical education (although it is found in none of the Royal Conservatories of Europe), will have no excuse for being retained, for our high school pupils will already possess it in sufficient measure to pursue with zest the hard technical courses the mastery of which is necessary to the making of a real musician.

VIII

While the American people have shown themselves opposed to the conduct or subsidization of music by the national government, as this has been often proposed in plans for a national conservatory, we have seen, in the case of Wisconsin, that this does not apply to the state governments, at least in respect to the feature[Pg 273] of popular education in music. Still less does it apply to the conduct of music by the municipal government. For many years the 'city fathers' of most American municipalities have provided band concerts in the public parks during the summer season. The programs of these concerts, however, until quite recently, were planned with little regard to education of the people in appreciation of the best music—the selections being of the so-called 'popular' order, the prevalent opinion of the directors being that the mass of the American people did not enjoy music of a high order.

A few far-seeing men, whose prescience was based on long and intimate acquaintance with the musical taste of every class in the community, had a confident faith that if selections of the best music were placed on the programs of the park concerts the public would become rapidly educated to prefer them to the other selections. This was done, and the result showed that the proposers of the innovation had been, if anything, too reserved in their prophecy. From the very beginning the new selections met with favor. Music lovers, many attending for the first time, crowded into the parks to hear the concerts and, by their intense interest during the performance and enthusiastic hand-clapping at its close, they not only silenced opposition, but even converted it into approval.

Said Arthur Farwell, supervisor of municipal music in New York from 1910 to 1913, in 'The Craftsmen' (Nov., 1910): 'The little comedy of resistance to classical music on the part of the average American man ends when he finds himself one of fifteen thousand similar persons—as happened repeatedly in New York this summer—listening in perfect silence to the great musical imaginings of the age by that most wonderful of instruments, the modern orchestra in the hands of a capable leader.'

[Pg 274]

New York is the acknowledged leader of American cities, and in many respects is their model in this development of municipal music from the most defective of instrumentalities for educating the people in musical appreciation into possibly its most effective one. Accordingly the story of the regeneration wrought in this municipality will indicate better than any other account the movement in the same direction all over the country. And for purposes of record it is well to quote Mr. Farwell, who in his official position was mainly responsible for the revolution:

'Municipal music in New York falls within the province of two departments, the Department of Parks and the Department of Docks and Ferries. It has been customary in the past to have frequent band and orchestral concerts at the Mall in Central Park with organizations of some size, and to have weekly concerts by smaller bands of twenty-one men and a leader in a number of the other parks. It has also been customary to have concerts nightly on all of the nine recreation piers on the North and East Rivers.

'Without describing the status of most of the music in the past, it may at least be said that the administrations supporting it let the work out to many independent band leaders, without requiring the upholding of musical standards, or having the means to uphold them, and without even suggesting such standards.

'The task of the new department heads, Charles B. Stover, Commissioner of the Department of Parks, and Calvin Tomkins, Commissioner of the Department of Docks and Ferries,[59] was therefore to place the work of providing municipal music upon a basis admitting of musical standards, and thus to make possible the systematic carrying out of new and progressive ideas.

'In the Park Department, Commissioner Stover's first [Pg 275]act in extending the scope and influence of the municipal music was to increase the number of music centres. Most important of all, he increased the number of symphony orchestras to two, and opened a new music centre for orchestral music at McGowan's Pass in the upper end of the park, where there is a natural amphitheatre. The crowds from the upper East Side that frequent this portion of the park are made up of persons who for the most part have never heard a symphony orchestra. It is an interesting fact that at the first concert given them there was much curiosity, but little real response, up to the performance of a movement from a Beethoven symphony, which brought forth prolonged and enthusiastic applause until an encore number was played. The concerts at McGowan's Pass have grown steadily and rapidly in popularity, eager audiences of from four to six thousand, or more, assembling at every performance....

'One other feature of fundamental importance in any truly national development, a feature wholly new, has marked the season's concerts in Central Park. This is the establishment by Commissioner Stover of a rule that each of the two orchestras shall perform one new or little-heard composition by an American composer each week. This is a step of the utmost moment, not so much in the mere gaining of a hearing for the works now performed, as in the recognition of the composers of our own land as a factor in the creation of America's dawning musical democracy.

'On the recreation piers the band concerts provided by the Dock Department have been enjoyed by many thousands. An innovation there has been to classify the program, and give the concerts distinctive character on different evenings—an Italian Opera Night, American Night, Wagner Night, Folk Songs and Dances, German-Slavonic Night, etc....

'In these activities of only a single summer, it will[Pg 276] be seen what a vista of possibilities has been revealed. If these developments have any meaning whatsoever, they have a meaning of the deepest sort for every American city and village. The magnitude of New York's operations is not the most important point. We are most deeply concerned with the spirit of these progressive activities, a spirit which may find its appropriate expression wherever there exists a community, large or small, which senses the upward trend of American humanity and democracy.'

M. M. M.

CHAPTER XI
THE FOLK ELEMENT IN AMERICAN MUSIC

We have been frequently obliged to indicate, in the course of our 'Narrative History of Music,' that certain known facts about musical beginnings were not first facts—that there were premises upon which these facts were based—beyond the ken of the historian. Thus we discovered that some time in the early centuries of our era a type of chant known as plain-song was systematized by musicians, but we were unable to reveal the actual source of that music; later we came upon a more or less artistic expression in the form of troubadour songs, and again found their actual source shrouded in mystery—or tradition—and so forth. We were consequently forced to the conclusion that, as practice precedes theory, something else precedes artistic music, which is its source and real beginning. That something is the elementary expression of the race—or folk-song. Art music is rooted in folk-song as surely as the tree is rooted in the soil.

Folk-song is the musical expression of the racial genius. Art music is the individual expression of the same genius, plus the personal character of the artist. However distinctive or individual his expression, no composer has been able to divorce himself from the racial genius of which he is a part, any more than a[Pg 278] poet of a nation has been able to rise above the national idiom. 'A creative artist,' says Mr. Henry F. Gilbert,[60] 'is like a noble tree. However tall the tree may grow, pointing ever heavenward, it still has its roots in the soil below and draws its sustenance therefrom. So with the great creative artist: however elevated and universal his utterances become, the roots of his being are so deeply embedded in the consciousness of the race of which he is a part, that the influence and color of this race spirit will be apparent in his greatest works.'

It follows, then, that a composition, if it is to be great, will be recognizable not only as the work of a man, but also as the product of a race. This may sound radical in the abstract, but the fact is easily demonstrated by concrete examples. To quote from the same source: 'When we survey with our mind's eye the bulk of German music and contrast it with the bulk of French music or Italian music we immediately perceive that there is a fundamental difference between them. Never mind whether we can define it or not, there the difference is, and I believe that most of us recognize it without any trouble. At bottom this difference is because of the difference in race. Inasmuch as the Italian composer in his music unconsciously expresses the peculiar temper and character of the people among whom he has been born and of whom he is a spiritual as well as a physical fragment, so the German composer expresses, likewise unconsciously, the quite different temper and character of the people from whom he sprang.... How can any one fail to recognize these national, or, say, racial characteristics? But there is a school of critics which maintains that the greatest music strikes the universal note, and is free from the taint of nationalism. If this were so we might expect to find the greatest music of Germany, France, Italy, Russia, Finland, or any other country to be very similar in its appeal[Pg 279] and effect. We should find all this great music to be lacking in special racial character and to be expressive only of those characteristics which are common to all the different peoples. If this were true it would, of course, be possible to conceive of any great piece of music having been written by any person regardless of his nationality. But can you do it? Can you, for instance, conceive of Beethoven's symphonies being the normal expression of an Italian? Or of 'Tristan' having been written by an Englishman? Can you imagine the 'Pathétique' Symphony of Tschaikowsky having been written by a Frenchman, or Verdi's 'Otello' composed by a Norwegian? No; the trail of nationality is over them all.... I believe that the greatest creative artists have ever been national in the deepest sense of the word. They have been the mouthpieces of a people, and, while in their works they unrolled new and hitherto unknown visions of beauty, their masterpieces have always been an expression and extension of the race consciousness rather than a contradiction and denial of it.'

If we accept this dictum, it will be quite rational, in treating the music of any nation, to begin at the bottom—by defining the sources and general character of its folk-song. We should have no difficulty in doing this in the case of France, Germany, or, say, Spain, which are more or less racially simple, but not so when we take a country like Austria, for instance, which is the home of at least three different racial stocks. Each of these has a well-developed music of its own, which has a well-defined racial complexion quite distinct from that of the others. Now America is precisely in this position, but in a very much higher degree. We have not three, but thirty or more different racial stocks, and of these perhaps six or seven are of sufficient strength and sufficient permanence to have become definitely associated with the American soil. Only in a limited[Pg 280] sense, however, are these race settlements 'localized,' as they are in Austria, and therefore capable of retaining in any degree their characteristics and traditions. America's position is, in fact, unique in that it fuses all these apparently antagonistic elements, thus obliterating in a large measure their own racial peculiarities and, by the addition of a new, a neutralizing element, substituting a new product. That product is still in the making, and the neutralizing element is so intangible as to defy definite description. Indefinitely it is the spirit born of the sense of liberty of action, opportunity and optimistic endeavor which colors the character of every settler or immigrant, irrespective of his extraction.

In contemplating the chaotic state of our 'national' music and in realizing that its ultimate character is in its formative stage, we are too apt to forget that it too has its folk-song antecedents, however heterogeneous they may be. We are not here concerned with the ultimate product, but with its ingredients. If these are partly English, Irish, Scotch, German, French, and Spanish, they are nevertheless legitimate, though these foreign ingredients may be dismissed with a mere mention in so far as they have suffered no peculiar transformation upon American soil; those that have suffered transformation, like those that are indigenous, must receive attention because they have become legitimate material for our composers to draw upon in order to identify their art with their country. In spite of the peculiar position of America with regard to artistic individuality, then, we may be justified in treating the story of American creative musical art in the usual manner—beginning with folk-song.

[Pg 281]

I

Since we have drawn the distinction between adapted and indigenous folk-song, the question naturally arises whether there exists in America a truly indigenous folk-song at all. It has been agreed that America, having been colonized by Europeans, possesses no native culture whatever, except such as the Indians may have had. The Indian, indeed, has the best claim to the name American, being indigenous, or at least so early a colonizer as to have constituted virtually a native race. But being the one element which has not been fused with the many elements of which the American nation is now composed, he is to-day in the anomalous position of an indigenous foreigner. For the American of to-day is predominantly European—of overseas origin—and the European conquerors have, in this case, not adopted the 'culture' of the vanquished, because that culture was inferior to their own.

The North American Indian has shown unquestioned evidences of art instincts—in his folk-lore, his handicrafts, and perhaps also in his music. But, with respect to the last, his impulses are so circumscribed by religious formulas and so little affected by a sense of proportion that they hardly achieve even the mildest form of artistic expression or design. Moreover, the idiom he employs is so foreign to us, so exotic in its nature, that either an unconscious or an impulsive use of it by American composers would be out of the question. What use has been made of Indian material has been with the conscious purpose of lending a savage character or local color to the music, as in the preëminent case of MacDowell's 'Indian Suite.' This is exactly analogous to the use of Oriental color by such composers as Saint-Saëns or Delibes. 'Arrangements,' or harmonizations, attempted upon the basis of our[Pg 282] European scale have led to some pleasing results at the hands of Frederick R. Burton, Arthur Farwell and others, but at a total sacrifice of the original character of the tunes. What appeal such arrangements have to our ears depends entirely upon the harmonic texture or a readjustment of the melody according to European ideas, not upon its intrinsic value.

'Folk-songs are echoes of the heart-beats of the vast folk and in them are preserved feelings, beliefs and habits of vast antiquity. Not only in the words, which have almost monopolized folk-song study so far, but also in music and perhaps more truthfully in the music than in the words. Music cannot lie, for the reason that the things which are at its base, the things without which it could not be, are unconscious, involitional human products.'[61] It is evident that unless we understand or feel 'the things which are at its base' we cannot respond to the utterances that express them. If for no other reason, the songs of the Indian, because they express the emotions of man at a lower and totally foreign stage of culture, cannot enter into assimilation, with our own. They are therefore not significant to Americans as folk-songs and we have accordingly treated them under the heading of Primitive Music in Volume I (pp. 1 ff.).

With the Indian rejected as a source of folk-song where are we to find such sources? Folk-songs, according to a dictionary definition, are 'marked by certain peculiarities of rhythm, form, and melody, which are traceable, more or less clearly, to racial (or national) temperament, modes of life, climatic and political conditions, geographical environment and language.' The distinction of one kind of folk-song from another therefore depends upon a difference in these peculiarities, and we shall have to look for distinctive characteristics that belong to no other race if we are to find a truly [Pg 283]indigenous folk-song. On the other hand, the conditions under which folk-song grows (for it does 'grow' while its sophisticated counterpart is 'built') are essentially the same. The proverbial dictum that 'sorrow is the mother of song' is true as a general rule. It is borne out by the fact that a great majority of the folk-songs of all nations carry a note of melancholy, and a great preponderance of all such songs is in the minor mode. But this is particularly so in Northern countries. No doubt the harsher climatic conditions impose a heavier burden of care. Mr. Krehbiel, who has examined many folk-songs with regard to the relative proportion of modes, remarks that nearly all of Russian song shows the minor predominance peculiar to Northern countries, and he concludes that political conditions have much the same effect as climatic ones.

Of course, the songs of happiness are many, too, but even these are in a measure the product of suffering, for man recognizes well-being very often only by contrast; continuous bliss he is apt to manifest by indifference. Hence we are not surprised that the strongest outbursts of joy, often wild and boisterous, are common to the nations whose dominant note is grief. But whatever the country, folk-song springs invariably from the poorest classes, and most often from the peasant, for, exposed to the phenomena of nature as well as to economic stress, his imagination is constantly stirred by the beauties of the earth, the mysteries and the tragedy of life.

In looking for analogous conditions in America we may think first of the pioneer, the early settler, who no doubt had hardships to endure and privations to suffer. But by peculiar circumstances he was unfitted for the creation of song. Springing largely from a notoriously unimaginative tradesman's class, inspired by the stern principles of a piety that deliberately suppressed impulsive expression as sinful, and almost constantly[Pg 284] engaged in savage warfare, he may hardly be looked upon as an originator of poetic beauty. Moreover, his English culture clung to him for generations, while politically he considered himself an Englishman. The songs he sang, therefore, were the songs of his fathers, and precious little social opportunity he had for indulging in their charm. Isolation and lack of communication effectually precluded a current interchange of ideas.

In a great measure these conditions apply to the subsequent generations of all European races in America—the pioneers as well as the later immigrants. Their own traditions, whatever their nationality, are preserved for a generation or so to the exclusion of new influences; then the old songs die away and the memory of them becomes obliterated in the great stream of cosmopolitanism. Only in isolated spots, where a race, especially strong in tradition or racial peculiarities, or where a mere aggregation of people, united in a common mode of life, is sequestered, have these traditions survived or engendered new ones. Instances of this are the French Canadians, the Creoles of Louisiana, the Spanish-Americans of Mexico and California, and the mountaineers of Kentucky and Virginia. These people have a folk-song peculiar to themselves, which is founded, however, upon a traditional racial idiom, and may therefore be classed as 'adapted' or 'transformed' folk-song. For the indigenous American folk-song we shall have to look elsewhere.

The only caste in American history whose condition in any way resembled that of the peasant class in Europe was the negro slave of the South. Not only was he subjected to sufferings, hardships, and oppression, but, injected into a civilization in which he found himself an outcast, he was forced to create a racial existence for himself, which, while it adapted elements of the society that ruled him, nevertheless was bound to[Pg 285] be distinctive because of a peculiar admixture of savage customs and superstitions, the imperfection of his understanding, and the extraordinary emotional makeup of his character. The negro in his uncivilized way was endowed with the ingenuousness of a child, and the susceptibility to impressions that goes with the untutored mind. He had a childlike, poetic nature, a natural gift of song, an emotionalism and a sentimentality that responded unfailingly to all the pangs of an unjust and cruel existence. The ruthless severing of family ties, the physical pains, the hardships of labor found a direct expression in his music, the idiom of which was partly innate and partly acquired. Add to this the intense religious excitement to which the negro is subject—an emotion which seems to have translated itself with all its elemental power from savage idolatry to Christian worship—and you have a combination which could not but produce a striking result. 'Nowhere save on the plantation of the South could the emotional life which is essential to the development of true folk-song be developed, nowhere else was there the necessary meeting of the spiritual cause and the simple agent and vehicle.'[62]

The peculiar fact that the one true indigenous class of American folk-song is the product of an African race is, as we have seen, due to circumstances alone. It is no reflection upon the capabilities of the other races for artistic expression. It simply demonstrates the fact that folk-song grows under certain conditions and no other. A nation that is prosperous, that is plunged headlong into the feverish activities of industrial progress, cannot be expected to bring forth melancholy 'complaints' or gems of contemplative lyricism. But there come even to such nations moments of national stress that give rise to unusual outbursts. While these are usually voiced by single individuals, they reproduce [Pg 286]so vividly the spirit of the people that they often rank with folk-songs in spontaneity and directness. Such are the patriotic songs, whose creation accompanied every war and every revolution. Often they are mere adaptations of freshly composed words to old but stirring tunes, which thus take on a new significance—often these very tunes are 'captured' from the enemy and annexed to the country's flag. Such was the case in the War of the Revolution, in the War of 1812, and again in the Civil War. These songs—not strictly folk-songs—might better be described as 'songs in the folk manner,' a distinction indicated in German by the adjective volkstümlich or volksmässig.

Such songs in the folk manner follow in the wake of every considerable folk-song tradition. They have not failed to do so in America, and it is significant that the spirit which they reproduce or aim to reproduce is the spirit of the negro folk-song. The movement, or after-movement, started with the imitation of negro ditties by white composers in connection with the so-called negro minstrel troupes which, beginning about 1845, became a favorite form of amusement in the United States. Its culmination must be recognized in the work of such men as Stephen Foster and Henry Clay Work, whose works are part of the permanent stock of American lyrics. Beyond this the negro song has had an influence upon the so-called American popular song, a degenerate type which has appropriated, often in distorted form, some of the character of plantation song, notably the peculiar form of syncopation known as 'ragtime.'

We have now enumerated all the subdivisions of folk-song in its broader sense: the native folk-song proper, exemplified by the negro plantation song; the song in the folk manner, exemplified by the negro minstrel tunes, the work of Stephen Foster and the patriotic songs, adapted or original; the adapted folk-song of the[Pg 287] French-Canadian, Spanish-American, the Kentucky mountaineer, etc.; and, finally, the simon-pure folk-song of foreign birth, perpetuated in America by immigrants. All of these are vital forces in American composition and as such must receive more detailed attention.

II

The discussion of the negroes' claim to the title 'American' would be perhaps out of place at this late date, and particularly in this place, were it not that a considerable class of American citizens has denied to them not only social equality but equal consideration and opportunity as a native citizen of the country. The preponderance of European blood in the nation hardly justifies this any more than it would justify the exclusion of the large number of Americans that are of anciently oriental origin. In contrast with this the name 'American' is never denied to the Indian, but priority of settlement can hardly be argued in his favor, for by such reasoning the negro has superior claims over some of the 'elect' of the white elements among Americans. Negroes were sold into slavery in Virginia before the landing of the Pilgrims in 1790. The first census of the United States showed 759,208 negroes, and to-day they constitute nearly 13 per cent. of the entire population. Their intellectual powers have been amply proved by the achievements of individual members of the race, in science, in education, and in the arts. It is hardly necessary to name such men as Booker T. Washington, Paul Lawrence Dunbar, and Dr. Burghardt DuBois in support of this. Mr. Krehbiel, however, does well in quoting the last-named of these in proving the present contention:

'Your country? How came it yours? Before the Pilgrims landed we were here. Here we have brought[Pg 288] three gifts and mingled them with yours—a gift of story and song, soft stirring melody in an ill-harmonized and unmelodious land; the gift of sweat and brawn to beat back the wilderness, conquer the soil and lay the foundations of this vast economic empire two hundred years earlier than your weak hands could have done it; the third a gift of the Spirit. Around us the history of the land has centred for thrice a hundred years; out of the nation's heart we have called all that was best, to throttle and subdue what was worst; fire and blood, prayer and sacrifice have billowed over this people, and they have found peace only in the altars of the God of Right....'

The negroes' songs are sung in the language of the country—or a dialect of it; and, while they do not voice the sentiments of the entire population—no song in a country so heterogeneous could do that—they are American songs by the same right that the peasant songs of Russia are Russian or the song of any other class of Americans would be American.

In order to prove the originality of the negro folk-song it has been necessary to combat the opinion of so learned a writer as Dr. Wallaschek,[63] who has contended that these songs are 'unmistakably "arranged"—not to say ignorantly borrowed—from the national songs of all nations, from military signals, well-known marches, German students' songs, etc., unless it is pure accident which has caused me to light upon traces of so many of them.' This radical statement, while it has the force of scientific deduction, is erroneous in the premises upon which these deductions are based. Dr. Wallaschek has relied too freely upon the testimony of travellers whose musical knowledge is doubtful and he has evidently confused genuine slave songs with imitations of them, such as the so-called minstrel tunes written by whites. Besides, as Mr. Krehbiel very [Pg 289]plausibly remarks, 'similarities exist between the folk-songs of all peoples. Their overlapping is a necessary consequence of the proximity and intermingling of peoples, like modifications of language; and there are some characteristics which all songs except those of the rudest and most primitive kind must have in common. The prevalence of the diatonic scales and march-rhythms, for instance, make parallels invariable. If the use of such scales and rhythms in the folk-songs of the American negroes is an evidence of plagiarism or imitation, it is to be feared that the peoples whose music they put under tribute have been equally culpable with them. Mr. William Francis Allen—with Charles Pickard Ware and Lucy McKim Garrison the compiler of the most famous collection of negro songs[64]—while admitting that negro music is partly imitative of the music of the whites, says that 'in the main it appears to be original in the best sense of the word, and the more we examine the subject, the more genuine it appears to be.' Only in a very few songs does Mr. Allen trace strains of less familiar music which the slaves heard their masters sing or play. In spite of this, the songs themselves prove that they are the spontaneous utterances of an entire people. As in the case of all folk-songs, their first germs were uttered by individual spokesmen, but these germs were such genuine reflections of sentiments common to all and were subjected to such modifications in their travels from lip to lip as to assume the character of a composite expression of the race. They are indeed 'original and native products. They contain idioms transplanted hither from Africa, but as songs they are the product of American institutions, of the social, political, and geographical environment within which their creators were placed in America; of the joys, sorrows, and experiences which fell to their lot in America.'

[Pg 290]

Having established the 'Americanism' and the originality of the negro folk-song, and having stated the presence of an African as well as European element, we may now attempt to point definitely to instances of both. Generally speaking, the African characteristics consist of rhythmic and melodic aberration, while the European ingredients find expression in the harmonic structure and the style of the melodies as far as they are influenced by that structure. But this statement is subject to qualifications. While the African, like every other exotic race, is generally innocent of harmonic science, travellers have brought evidences of a genuine natural feeling for harmony among the African tribes. Thus a German officer recounted to John W. D. Moodie[65] how his playing of an aria from Gluck's Orfeo on the violin was immediately imitated with accompaniments by the native Hottentots. Peter Kolbe, writing in 1719, testified to the Hottentots' playing of their gom-goms in harmony, and Mr. Krehbiel records the singing of a Dahoman minstrel at the World's Columbian Exposition (1893) to the accompaniment of a Chinese harp as follows: 'With his right hand he played over and over again a descending passage of dotted crotchets and quavers in thirds; with his left hand he syncopated ingeniously on the highest tuned string.' According to the same writer, another investigator, Dr. Wangemann, transcribed a hymn by a Kaffir in which the solos were sung in unison but the refrain in full harmony. These instances should give some clue to the extraordinary ability of negroes to 'harmonize,' that is, improvise harmonies to a given melody.

Of course, the strongest musical accomplishment of the African is his extraordinary command of rhythm. As is the case with most primitive music, the rhythm of the African music is determined by the native dances. The drum, which marks the rhythm, is the [Pg 291]most important instrument of the African, and his ability upon it is nothing short of marvellous. He has developed a 'drum language' which he uses in signalling in war time and for communication at long distance. 'The most refined effects of the modern tympanist seem to be put in the shade by the devices used by African drummers in varying the sound of their instruments so as to make them convey meanings, not by conventional formulas but by actual imitation of words.'[66] Their ability to use cross rhythms and intricate effects of syncopation is evidently inherited by the American negroes, whose prowess in that direction may be verified in a thousand dance halls. Syncopation and the peculiar form of it which Mr. Krehbiel refers to as the 'Scotch snap' is indeed the outstanding characteristic of all negro music. The short note on a strong beat immediately followed by a longer one on a weak beat, and the consequent shifted rhythm popularly known as 'ragtime' is scarcely ever absent in negro folk-music. That it is a heritage from Africa seems to be conclusively proved by the recording of such melodies as these:

Drum Call from West Africa.

[PNG][Listen]

Hottentot Melody.

[PNG][Listen]

Next to their rhythmic snap, the most radically outlandish characteristic of the negro songs is their frequent variation from the diatonic scale. This most often takes the form of a raised (major) sixth in a minor key (while the seventh is not varied or is omitted altogether); the raised seventh in the minor scale, or the flattened seventh in the major. Besides these 'wild notes,' as Mr. Krehbiel calls them, there are omissions of certain notes of the scale that produce a decided exotic[Pg 292] effect. Thus we have the major scale without the seventh or without the fourth, and the minor scale without the sixth. The major scale with both the fourth and the seventh omitted, in other words the pentatonic scale, familiar in all primitive and exotic music as well as in certain folk-tunes, notably the Celtic, is also present in negro song. There are, moreover, examples in the so-called whole-tone scale.

The effect produced by these aberrations constitutes the most beautiful quality of negro music. We cannot refrain from quoting here an example or two. The raised sixth in the minor scale is most exquisitely shown in the famous 'spiritual' 'You May Bury Me in de Eas',' which we quote in full, without harmonization:[67]

[PNG][Listen]

Another instance is seen in the second section of 'Come Tremble-ing Down,' the first part of which is in C major, turning into A minor with a striking disregard of harmonic convention, and proceeding as follows:

[PNG][Listen]

[Pg 293]

Such examples contain nothing that is imitative. Their disregard for the natural progressions of diatonic melody leave no doubt that the negro possessed, to begin with, a wholly independent sense of tonality, which sense he has in some measure retained or compromised. As an instance of the minor seventh in the major scale take 'A Great Camp Meetin'.' We quote only the last three measures of the first section in order to establish the key:

[PNG][Listen]

And, as a last example of tunes that have little in common with any other kind of folk-song, a melody worthy of the sophistication of an ultra-modern composer, let us add 'O'er the Crossing':

[PNG][Listen]

There are many, many more.[68] Melodic imagination of a high order would be required to produce consciously such melodies as these. There is in them little [Pg 294]that is trivial, nothing that is frivolous. Even the 'rhythmic snap' never sounds cheap in true negro music, as distinct from worthless imitations and so-called popular music—'coon songs' and the like. Note the following as a noble example of its use:

[PNG][Listen]

In summing up the melodic and rhythmic characteristics of negro tunes we may state the apparently contradictory fact that the great majority of them are in the major mode, notwithstanding their almost ever-present note of sadness. Out of 527 songs analyzed by Mr. Krehbiel 416 are in ordinary major, only 62 in ordinary minor, 23 'mixed and vague,' and 111 pentatonic. Herein the negro folk-song differs from most other folk-songs. Its Southern habitat would, of course, seem to predispose it to major, and thus it bears out the argument in favor of climatic influence. Nevertheless the effect of sadness in the melodies does not escape us. Often it is produced by the aberrations of which we have spoken; but more often it is less tangible. In the words of Dr. DuBois 'these songs are the music of an unhappy people, of the children of disappointment; and they tell of death and suffering and unvoiced longing toward a truer world, of misty wanderings and hidden ways.'

Practically all of the songs are in duple and quadruple rhythm, triple time is extremely rare. The rhythmic propulsion is always strong. The persistent excitement of rhythm is evidently an African relic and the sense of it is so strong as to overcome the natural[Pg 295] tendencies of the text. 'The negroes keep exquisite time,' says Mr. Allen, 'and do not suffer themselves to be daunted by any obstacle in the words. The most obstinate hymns they will force to do duty with any tune they please and will dash heroically through a trochaic tune at the head of a column of iambs with wonderful skill.'

The form of the songs is, of course, determined by the structure of the verse. They are composed of simple two-and four-bar phrases. Four such usually make up a stanza, while four more are comprised in the 'chorus' often placed at the beginning of the song and repeated after every verse. The stanzas of the older songs commonly contain an alternating solo and refrain; the second and fourth lines are usually given to the refrain and the first and third to the verse, the third being often a repetition of the first. In some cases the refrain occupies three lines and the verse the remaining one. 'The refrain is repeated with each stanza,' says Mr. Allen concerning the manner of performance, 'the words of the verse are changed at the pleasure of the leader, or fugleman, who sings either well-known words, or, if he is gifted that way invents verses as the song goes on.'[69]

Some difficulty was experienced by those who have transcribed the music of the negroes in reproducing 'the entire character' of the songs by the conventional symbols of the art. This is due in part to the primitive elements in the music, and in part to the peculiar manner of the performance. The characteristic improvisational style of the negro, the peculiar quality of the voices, and the slurring of certain values are all necessary in order to produce the proper effect. Moreover, the improvised harmony, simple as it was, had become an inherent part of the music not easily to be reproduced. The following description, taken from 'Slave [Pg 296]Songs in the United States,' may be illuminating in this connection:

'There is no singing in parts, as we understand it, and yet no two appear to be singing the same thing; the leading singer starts the words of each verse, often improvising, and the others who "base" him, as it is called, strike in with the refrain, or even join in the solo when the words are familiar. When the "base" begins the leader often stops, leaving the rest of the words to be guessed at, or it may be they are taken up by one of the other singers. And the "basers" themselves seem to follow their own whims, beginning when they please and leaving off when they please, striking an octave above or below (in case they have pitched the tune too high), or hitting some other note that "chords," so as to produce the effect of a marvellous complication and variety and yet with the most perfect time and variety, and yet rarely with any discord. And what makes it all the harder to unravel a thread of melody out of this strange network is that, like birds, they seem not infrequently to strike sounds that cannot be precisely represented by the gamut and abound in "slides" from one note to another and turns and cadences not in articulated notes.'

A word should be added here regarding the instruments used by the negro. The one most closely identified with him is, of course, the banjo, which, in a primitive form, he is said to have brought from Africa. The 'banjar' to which Thomas Jefferson refers in his 'Notes on Virginia' was an instrument of four strings, or perhaps less at first, whose head was covered with a rattlesnake's skin, and which resembled closely an instrument used by the Chinese. (Cf. Vol. I, p. 54.) It is thought that the original banjo was a melodic rather than a harmonic instrument, which is the peculiar office of its modern off-spring, and, since the negro's music was at first purely melodic, it must have been accordingly[Pg 297] played. The tuning, too, was probably very different from that of the banjo of to-day.

Besides this, the negro's chief instrument was the drum, as already indicated. There were two principal sizes, made of a hollowed log (the smaller one often of bamboo sections) over the end of which sheep or goat skin was stretched. These drums were played in a horizontal position, the player sitting on the instrument astride. Then there were rattles, some like the Indians', some consisting of a jaw-bone of an animal, across which a piece of metal was 'rasped'; also the morimbabrett, consisting of a small shallow box of thin wood, with several sections of reed, of graduated lengths, placed across it, the ends of which were plucked by the player. The familiar Pan's pipes, made from two joints of brake cane ('quills') and various noise instruments—'bones,' triangle, tambourine, and whistles—were all made to do duty. But when the negro had become thoroughly civilized the violin became his favorite instrument, and the 'technique' he achieved upon it without any real training has often astonished the white listener.

III

Attention was not directed to the value of negro songs till the middle of the nineteenth century. Considerable research resulted finally in the publication of several collections, of which the 'Slave Songs of the United States,' already mentioned above, was the first. This collection of songs represents every phase in the gamut of expression. The so-called 'sorrow' songs, the oldest surviving negro songs, are perhaps the most expressive. Some of them have sprung from the memories of a single act of cruelty, or an event of such tragedy as to create a really deep impression. Others echo simply the hardships encountered day by day. There are[Pg 298] songs, too, that reflect the sunshine and gaiety that was not altogether foreign to plantation life, but those inspired by grief are the most beautiful. Then there are the 'occupational' songs suggested by the rhythm of labor which form a part of every kind of folk-song the world over. The value of such songs was fully recognized by the slaves' masters, for they were unfailing accelerators of labor, and it is known that the slaves who led the singing in the field were given special rewards. In consequence of this the negroes generally came to abhor that class of songs, and it is significant that very few of the 'corn songs,' 'reel tunes,' 'fiddle songs,' and 'devil songs' have been preserved, while hundreds of the religious songs—'spirituals,' etc.—are now common property.[70]

A special class of labor songs were the so-called 'railroad songs,' which originated during the Civil War, when negroes were employed in building earth works and fortifications. They consisted of a series of rhythmic, protracted chants, upon words usually originated by a leader. Railroad tracks were laid to these same strains—hence their name. Their originality of thought and the fact that they represent the last spontaneous outburst of the negro under rapidly changing conditions, lends them a special interest. The railroad itself naturally stimulated the negro's imagination. He introduced it metaphorically even in his religious songs: the Christian was a traveller, the Lord was the conductor and the ministers were the brakemen. At gospel stations the train stopped for those that were saved, or to supply the engine with the water of life. All of [Pg 299]the negro's power of imagery was here brought into play.

The love songs of the negro are few and those few lack depth, and sometimes border on frivolity. An exception is usually made for 'Poor Rosy,' concerning which one old negress has said that 'it cannot be sung without a full heart and troubled spirit.'

We have already pointed out the preponderance of religious songs in the folk-music of the negro. The reason is not hard to find. In his aboriginal home religious rite, music and dance were closely associated, as they are in the life of all primitive peoples. The African's religion was a form of idolatry known as voodooism. Connected with it were certain chants and rites, relics of which have long survived.[71] These primitive rites were calculated to excite the emotions rather than to uplift the spirit and under this excitement the negro gave voice to the music that was in him. He accepted the Christian religion as a substitute just as he accepted the English language as a substitute for his African tongue. He garbled both. He considered the new religion not in a dogmatic, philosophical, or ethical sense, but rather as an emotional experience. When under religious excitement he would wander through the woods in swamps much like the ancient Bacchantes. 'A race imbued with strong religious sentiment,' says Mr. M. A. Haskell,[72] 'one rarely finds among them an adult who has not gone through that emotional experience known as conversion, after which it is considered [Pg 300]vanity and sinfulness to indulge in song other than of a sacred character.'

His religion became the negro's one relief, comfort, and enjoyment. His daily life became tinged with his belief; in his very sufferings he saw the fulfillments of its promises. Nothing but patience for this life, nothing but triumph in the next—that was the tenor of his lay. Emancipation he thought of in terms of ultimate salvation rather than earthly freedom. Thus he sang:

A religious allegory colored nearly all his songs, a pathetic, childlike trust in the supernatural spoke through them, and biblical references, echoes of the 'meetin',' shreds of the minister's teaching, were strewn indiscriminately through all of them. 'The rolling of Jordan's waters, the sound of the last trumpet, the vision of Jacob's ladder, the building of the ark, Daniel in the lion's den, Ezekiel's wheel in the middle of a wheel, Elijah's chariot of fire, the breaking up of the Universe, the lurid pictures of the Apocalypse—all asked for swelling proclamation.' Analogies between the chosen people and their own in bondage were inevitable—and 'Hallelujahs' seemed as appropriate in secular songs as in spiritual ones.

Often biblical words were garbled into mere nonsense. Thus 'Jews crucified him' became 'Jews, screws, defidum,' etc. The personality of the Prince of Darkness assumed a degree of reality which reminds us of the characters of mediæval miracle plays. One of the songs personifies him thus:

[Pg 301]

The so-called spirituals ('sper'chels) hold perhaps the largest place in the negro's sacred repertory. These plantation songs—'spontaneous outbursts of intense religious fervor'—had their origin chiefly in the camp-meetings, the revivals, and other religious exercises. 'They breathe a childlike faith in a personal Father and glow with the hope that the children of bondage will ultimately pass out of the wilderness into the land of freedom.' To them belong such gems as 'You May Bury Me in the Eas',' the plaintive 'Nobody Knows de Trouble I see,' the tender 'Swing Low, Sweet Chariot,' and many others as rare.

At meetings the spirituals were often accompanied by a most extraordinary form of religious ceremony, namely the so-called 'shouts,' which flourished particularly in South Carolina and south of it during antebellum days.[73] The spirituals sung in this connection were consequently called 'shout songs' or 'running spirituals.' The shouts were veritable religious orgies, or bacchanalia, and no doubt represent a relic of an African custom. Julien Tiersot refers to them as 'dishevelled dances.'[74] A vivid description of a shout is given by a writer in 'The Nation' of May 30, 1867:

'... The "shout" takes place on Sundays, or on "praise" nights throughout the week, and either in the praise-house or in some cabin in which a regular religious meeting has been held. Very likely more than half the population of a plantation is gathered together. Let it be the evening, and a light fire burns red before the door of the house and on the hearth. For sometime one hears, though at a good distance, a vociferous exhortation or prayer of the presiding elder or of the brother who has a gift that way and is not "on the back [Pg 302]seat"—a phrase the interpretation of which is "under the censure of the church authorities for bad behavior"—and at regular intervals one hears the elder "deaconing" a hymn-book hymn, which is sung two lines at a time and whose wailing cadences, borne on the night air, are indescribably melancholy.

'But the benches are pushed back to the wall when the formal meeting is over, and old and young, men and women, sprucely dressed young men, grotesquely half-clad field hands—the women generally with gay handkerchiefs twisted about their heads and with short skirts—boys with tattered shirts and men's trousers, young girls barefooted, all stand up in the middle of the floor, and when the "sperichil" is struck up begin first walking and by and by shuffling around, one after the other, in a ring. The foot is hardly taken from the floor, and the progression is mainly due to a jerking, twitching motion which agitates the entire shouter and soon brings out streams of perspiration. Sometimes they dance silently, sometimes as they shuffle they sing the chorus of the spiritual, and sometimes the song itself is sung by the dancers. But more frequently a band, composed of some of the best singers and of tired shouters, stand at the side of the room to "base" the others, singing the body of the song and clapping their hands together on the knees. Song and dance are alike extremely energetic, and often, when the shout lasts into the middle of the night, the monotonous thud, thud of the feet prevents sleep within half a mile of the praise house.'

Closely related to the shout songs are the funeral songs which accompanied the 'wakes' and burials of the negroes. They were sung in a low monotonous croon by those who 'sat up' and are particularly noted for their irregularity in everything except rhythm. The negroes are especially inclined to voice their sorrow in nocturnal song, as their savage ancestors did before[Pg 303] them, and likewise they indulged in funeral dances at night. Mrs. Jeanette Robinson Murphy, writing in 'The Independent,' speaks of a custom in which hymns are sung at the deathbed to become messengers to loved ones gone before and which the departing soul is charged to bear to heaven. 'When a woman dies some friend or relative will kneel down and sing to the soul as it takes flight. One of these songs contains endless verses, conveying remembrances to relatives in glory.' Often these funeral songs convey deep emotion in a nobly poetic vein. An example recorded by Colonel Thomas Wentworth Higginson has the following words:

'Never, it seems to me,' comments Col. Higginson, 'since man first lived and suffered, was his infinite longing for peace uttered more plaintively than in that line.' There are many other examples of such funeral songs preserved; some of them Mr. Krehbiel has reprinted in his 'Afro-American Folksongs' (pp. 100 ff.).

Few of the secular songs have survived. Even these, it seems, were often made to do service in the religious meeting, on the Wesleyan principle that it would not do to let the devil have all the good tunes. Some songs,[Pg 304] on the other hand, were used to accompany rowing as well as 'shouting'—probably because of the similarity of the rhythm in the two motions. In 'Michael, Row the Boat Ashore,' which was a real boat-song, not a human Michael but the archangel himself was meant. Other tunes used for rowing were 'Heav'n Bell a-ring',' 'Jine 'em,' 'Rainfall,' 'No Man,' and 'Can't stay behin'.' Similarly, other spirituals were used as working songs, for their rhythms were hardly ever sluggish. As a good specimen of purely secular songs—'the strange barbaric songs that one hears upon the Western steamboats'—Mr. W. F. Allen points to the following:

[PNG][Listen]

The negro's natural impulse for dancing seems to have found its outlet in the 'shout,' as far as the Atlantic seaboard states are concerned at least, for the Christian sects promptly stamped out the dances which were connected with primitive superstition. In Louisiana, however, the negro came in contact with a very different sort of people, the Spanish and French settlers—southern races of a more sensuous turn than the Anglo-Saxon. The musical result was the superposition of Spanish and French melody over negro rhythms—the[Pg 305] two ingredients of the Creole folk-songs, which are to a large extent dance songs.

The warlike and lascivious dances of the African took on a more civilized form under the influence of Spanish and French culture, though they are said in some cases to have remained licentious enough. But the product has been highly influential musically. Thus the fascinating Habañera, the familiar rhythm of many a Spanish melody, is, according to Albert Friedenthal,[75] of negro origin. As its name indicates, Havana was its home and from there it spread to all Spanish and Portuguese America, the West Indies, Central and South America. 'Extended and complicated rhythms are known only where the negroes are to be found,' says our investigator. Mr. Krehbiel quotes a creole song from Martinique, built upon the Habañera rhythm, entitled Tant sirop est doux, and speaks of Afro-American songs in which the characteristic rhythm is so persistently used as to suggest that they were influenced by a subconscious memory of the old dance. Other dances of negro origin, mentioned by writers on the Antilles, are the Bamboula, Bouèné, Counjai, Kalinda, Bélé, Bengume, Babouille, Cata, and Guiouba. The term 'juba' applied to the plucking accompaniments of negro dance-songs in minstrel shows may be a derivative of the last.

In speaking of the Creole we must emphasize that the word is not properly applied to any persons of mixed stock, as has been frequently done. Creole is a word of Spanish etymology and was used to denote the pure-blooded Spanish or French native of the American colonies. But it is the negro slaves of these creoles—whom we may call black creoles (including mulattoes, quadroons, etc.)—that created the charming songs breathing the spirit of the tepid zone along the great gulf and the Father of Waters. They, too, are [Pg 306]the creators of the patois to which the songs are set. Concerning the origin of this patois Mr. Krehbiel gives some interesting details: 'The creole patois, though never reduced to writing by its users, is still a living language. It is the medium of communication between black nurses and their charges in the French families of Louisiana to-day, and half a century ago it was exclusively spoken by French creoles up to the age of ten or twelve years. In fact, children had to be weaned from it with bribes or punishment. It was, besides, the language which the slave spoke to his master and the master to him. The need which created it was the same as that which created the corrupt English of the slaves in other parts of the country.... Thus, then, grew the pretty language, soft in the mouth of the creole as bella lingua in bocca toscana, in which the creole sang of his love, gave rhythmical impulse to the dance, or scourged with satire those who fell under his displeasure.'

The Creole songs, according to Lafcadio Hearn, are 'Frenchy in construction but possess a few African characteristics of method.' 'There could neither have been creole patois nor creole melodies but for the French and Spanish blooded slaves of Louisiana and the Antilles. The melancholy, quavering beauty and weirdness of the negro chant are lightened by the French influence, subdued and deepened by the Spanish.' Unlike the negro slave of the Virginias and Carolinas, etc., who poured out all his emotion in gospel hymn and spirituals, the black creole was especially fond of love-songs—crooning love songs in the soft, pretty words of his patois—some sad, some light-hearted. One is 'the tender lament of one who was the evil of his heart's choice the victim of chagrin in beholding a female rival wearing those vestments of extra quality that could only be the favors which both women had courted from the hand of some proud master[Pg 307] whence alone such favors could come.'[76] Another, 'Caroline,' reveals the romance and the tragedy of the dramatic life of the young creole slaves. We quote it here, as our one example of creole tunes:

[PNG][Listen]

In general, the love song of the black Creole is more distinctive than that of other Afro-Americans. A famous example is 'Layotte,' utilized by Louis Moreau Gottschalk (b. New Orleans, 1829, of French and English parentage), who achieved international fame both as pianist and composer. Gottschalk did much to make the charm of Creole melodies known to the world. The themes of his piano pieces perpetuate many of these melodies, among them Avant, grenadier, which forms the theme of one of his earliest compositions, Bananier. The popularity of Gottschalk and the general interest which his music aroused in Paris and elsewhere was one of the sensations of the musical world of that day.

Another class of lyrics peculiar to the Creoles were the satirical songs which may be a survival of a primitive practice brought by their ancestors from America. At carnival times scores of these songs make their appearance—or reappearance,—new and topical words being applied to the old tunes, and public as well as personal grudges are taken out in this manner. Such songs are Musieu Bainjo, a mild bit of pleasantry leveled at a darkey who 'put on airs,' and Michié Préval, [Pg 308]of which Mr. Cable says that for generations the man of municipal politics was fortunate who escaped entirely a lampooning set to its air. 'Its swinging and incisive rhythm made it the most effective vehicle for satire which the Creole folk-song has ever known.' (Krehbiel.) In Martinique these satirical songs, or pillards, are more malicious in intent and often cruel in the relentless public castigation they inflict upon the objects of their makers' hate.

Other creole songs are of a historical nature, recording events or episodes of importance to the community. The invasion of Louisiana by the British in 1814, and the capture of New Orleans by the Union forces in 1862, for instance, were thus chronicled.

The musical value and the charm of negro songs were little appreciated until the Jubilee Singers of Fisk University, Tenn., made their famous tour, which began in October, 1871. George L. White, the treasurer of the school—one of the institutions for the education of the blacks that came under the patronage of the American Missionary Association—desirous of raising funds for its maintenance, was struck with the artistic possibilities of the little choir of students which he had organized and trained. After several successful concerts held in nearby towns he embarked upon a grand tour of the country, with the object of raising a fund of $20,000. The little company of emancipated slaves—at no time more than fourteen strong—gave the world so remarkable a demonstration of the musical qualities of their race that the matter has hardly been called into question since. In less than three years, moreover, they brought back to Fisk University nearly $100,000. Their adventures are told in detail by J. B. T. Marsh, who, in his 'Story of the Jubilee Singers,' says in part: 'They were turned away from hotels and driven out of railroad waiting rooms because of their color. But they[Pg 309] had been received with honor by the President of the United States, they had sung their slave songs before the Queen of Great Britain, and they had gathered as invited guests about the breakfast-table of her Prime Minister. Their success was as remarkable as their mission was unique!

The climax of their tour was the participation in the World's Peace Jubilee held in Boston in June-July, 1872. There, before an audience of 40,000 people gathered from all parts of the country, they sang themselves into the hearts of the nation, in spite of a recurrence of race prejudice. Their singing of Julia Ward Howe's 'Battle Hymn of the Republic' to the tune of 'John Brown' was, according to Mr. Marsh, 'as if inspired.' 'When the grand old chorus "Glory, Hallelujah" followed with a swelling volume of music from the great orchestra, the thunder of the bands and the roar of artillery, the scene was indescribable. Twenty thousand people were on their feet. Ladies waved their handkerchiefs, men threw their hats in the air and the Coliseum rang with the cheers and shouts of "the Jubilees, the Jubilees, forever!"'

The fame of the 'Jubilees' soon spread abroad, and, responding to a demand, they appeared in England, Scotland, and Ireland, with extraordinary success. Their appeal was direct to the hearts of the people, and an echo of it is preserved to this day in the adoption of at least one melody as an English Sunday-school hymn. A second tour took the colored singers into Holland, Switzerland, and Germany as well, and everywhere they met with the deepest appreciation. Received by the sovereigns of both Holland and Germany, they were given the use of the Dutch cathedrals and the Berlin Domkirche for their concerts. The Berlin Musikzeitung indulged in a long laudatory article concerning their music and the artistic finish of their singing, and Franz Abt, the composer, acknowledged their[Pg 310] work in the following remark: 'We could not even take our German peasant and reach in generations of culture such results in art, conduct, and character as appear in these freed slaves.'

Other musicians have from time to time called the world's attention to the value of negro music. Most prominent among them being Dr. Antonin Dvořák, who, during his stay in America, voiced his admiration of it and made use of the material in several of his best known compositions, notably the 'New World Symphony' and the 'American Quartet.' It will be appropriate to add in conclusion the well-known passage from Dr. Dvořák's article in the 'Century Magazine' of February, 1895, which has caused so much comment:

'A while ago I suggested that inspiration for truly national music might be derived from the negro melodies or Indian chants. I was led to take the view partly by the fact that the so-called plantation songs are indeed the most striking and appealing melodies that have been found on this side of the water, but largely by observation that this seems to be recognized, though often unconsciously, by most Americans. All races have their distinctive national songs which they at once recognize as their own, even if they have never heard them before. It is a proper question to ask, what songs, then, belong to the American and appeal more strikingly to him than any others? What melody will stop him on the street, if he were in a strange land, and make the home feeling well up within him, no matter how hardened he might be, or how wretchedly the tunes were played? Their number, to be sure, seems to be limited. The most potent, as well as the most beautiful among them, according to my estimation, are certain of the so-called plantation melodies and slave songs, all of which are distinguished by unusual and subtle harmonies, the thing which I have found in no other songs but those of Scotland and Ireland.'

[Pg 311]

Many American composers have, since these lines were written, acted upon the suggestion contained in them. We need but mention George W. Chadwick, Henry Schoenefeld, E. R. Kroeger, Henry F. Gilbert, Arthur Farwell, and W. H. Humiston among those who have drawn upon this fertile treasure of thematic material. It is but the beginning, however. American music is becoming more and more distinctive. Whether intentionally or spontaneously, our musical literature is bound to absorb some of the color of so potent an element of national lore.

IV

A great deal cannot be said at this time about the American folk-song from other than negro sources. Doubtless there is a wealth of song to be found in the Spanish-American sections along our borders, in the recesses of the Blue Ridge mountains, whose communities still live by the guide of primitive instincts and in defiance of law and order; on the great prairies of the west, where the cowboy has developed a rude type of chivalry peculiar to himself and with it an idiom reflecting the dare-devil and man-defying existence which he leads. But little has been done to collect this scattered store, to commit it to paper, and to sift the worthy from the dross.

As regards the cowboy songs, the Southwest Society of the Archæological Institute of America, under the direction of Charles F. Lummis, has recently done some pioneer work. One of the songs thus gathered, 'The Lone Prairie,' was harmonized by Mr. Arthur Farwell and published in the Wa-wan Press series in 1905. In the arranger's opinion it is probably the first cowboy song to be printed. As such it acquires a special interest. It is in the minor mode, has the rhythmic snap[Pg 312] peculiar to negro music, though it is in triple rhythm, and acquires a certain exotic flavor by the constant use of the minor seventh instead of the leading tone. Its outstanding ethnic character, if it has any, is, however, Irish. It is not improbable that the cowboy song should have acquired a certain tone from the music of the Indian, though a generous admixture of the Celtic idiom is most certainly to be expected from the racial character of the caste.

In the same number of the Wa-wan Press there are two examples of Spanish-Californian folk-songs that are extremely interesting. Their Spanish character is unmistakable, though perhaps the tone is a little more plaintive than we are wont to expect from their original Southern habitat. 'The Hours of Grief' and 'The Black Face' are both set in the minor, and the 2/4 (quasi 6/8) measure, with the characteristic dotted rhythm, only accentuates the sombreness of the sentiment. Syncopation is used sparingly, at the end of a phrase only. The subject of the latter song—the lament of a dusky youth over his unhappy love for a white beauty, would bespeak negro origin, too, and the general character of the piece is certainly reminiscent of the Creole dance songs with their Habañera rhythm.

The Spanish-American songs of further south, of Central America and Mexico, hardly come within our scope, though American composers would be quite justified in drawing upon them for material. A collection recently made by Miss Eleanor Hague, of the American Folklore Society, and published with accompaniments by Edward Kilenyi, does not reveal much beyond the standard of salon music, though in their own home the characteristic environment of Spanish America and the peculiar manner of their performance may add greatly to their effect. To quote Miss Hague:

'To sit in the plaza of some quaint Mexican town on a starry perfumed evening is to realize the significance[Pg 313] of highly colored and impassioned utterance. One's blood is fired by the rhythmic quality of the music which floats out from the gaily lighted central pavilion, and the groups of people are a delight to one's eyes: Indians in white cotton clothes, gaudy serapes and big hats; groups of young girls with scarfs over their heads walking about; other groups of young men in the picturesque charro costume, as well as occasional older people of dignified mien. On a bench an exquisitely pretty girl sits beside her mother, with her eyes fixed on space, but quite conscious of the youth in his best embroidered jacket and sombrero, at the further end of the bench, who gazes shyly at her and then looks away with rapture in his eyes. If he has not already begun to "play the bear" under her window he undoubtedly will soon reach that point in his courtship.... In Mexico the guitar is used everywhere for accompanying and also for solos. As a rule in playing accompaniments the natives content themselves with simple harmonies in chord form or as arpeggios; but they have a deep affection for successions of thirds and never seem to tire of their honied sweetness.'

The French-Canadian, across the other border of the United States, also has developed a folk-song peculiar to himself in the course of his romantic existence. It is so closely allied to French folk-song that we have preferred to treat it in that connection. There remains only to be mentioned the folk-song of the Kentucky mountaineer which has had some attention at the hands of Mrs. Jeannette Robinson Murphy, already quoted above. The mountaineer, like the cowboy, is made up of various national strains, and his song in consequence is one of mixed or indefinite character. The rhythmic element again predominates and, indeed, practically all his songs have their principal use in connection with the dance. Fast rhythmic tunes in duple time and in very simple form are sung as accompaniment[Pg 314] to all the so-called 'set dances,' which form the chief entertainment at evening gatherings in log cabins. Upon these occasions the fiddler assumes the office of leader for both song and dance—he calls out the tunes, directs the 'figures' and sings the first verse of the song, while his assistant, by a peculiar tapping of the strings of the instrument, marks the rhythm. The songs, or ballads, are often of humorous or bantering flirtatious character, and in them is perpetuated many a peculiarity of mountaineer life.

At this point we end our necessarily incomplete review of American folk-song, a subject which future research will do much to place more nearly within our reach. We shall now discuss briefly the American song in the folk manner, which may be considered to have grown out of the folk-song proper.

V

About the year 1830 an American comedian, W. D. Rice (1808-1860), popularly known as 'Daddy' Rice, stood in a stable in Louisville, Ky., and watched an old, deformed and decrepit negro singing a lively tune to words something like these:

and a number of other verses recounting the wondrous adventures of 'Jim Crow.' They are not very exciting, to be sure, and their humor hardly appeals to our jaded minds to-day. The tune, too, is mediocre enough. But 'Daddy' Rice saw a great opportunity. He learned[Pg 315] the song and sang it, accompanied by all the funny turns and motions of the old negro and many more. Soon after he was appearing in a theatre in Pittsburgh, and, meeting a negro porter on the way, took him to the theatre, borrowed his clothes, donned them, blackened his face with cork and added a black wig of matted moss. When he appeared on the stage and sang 'Jim Crow' the audience roared with laughter; but when he added topical verses of his own and made his antics still funnier, the house went wild. To add to the mirth, Cuff, the negro, whose professional services were in demand, came on to the stage in négligé and frantically expostulated to reclaim his clothes. Of course, the audience mistook the interruption for part of the 'show' and the signal for a climax of hilarity.

That was the birth of 'Negro Minstrelsy'—a type of entertainment which for the greater part of the century was one of the chief delights of the American public. How much, or little, of it was 'negro' matters little—the original impulse, at any rate, came from that source, and the rich opportunities for humor—of an innocent sort—to be gotten out of lampooning the race, were eagerly exploited. The 'dandy darky,' the character created by Rice, soon became a stock article of the common show and he made his way to every stage. The 'cork fraternity,' as one of its members called the profession, enlarged rapidly and soon numbered many distinguished representatives. Joe Jefferson himself made his début in that capacity at the tender age of four, when he emerged from a bag on 'Daddy' Rice's shoulders. As for 'Daddy' himself, he added song after song to his répertoire, until there were enough for several evenings' entertainment. He toured not only America but England as well and acquired a considerable fortune.

He was, by the way, not the first to 'blacken his face[Pg 316] professionally.' From Charley White's diary[77] we learn that already in 1799 'Mr. Graupner' did so, 'Pot Pie Herbert' in 1814, Andrew Jackson Allen in 1815, etc., etc. In that year, indeed, according to Mr. Krehbiel, a song description of the battle of Plattsburg was sung in a drama to words supposedly in negro dialect. But organized negro minstrelsy did not exist until 1843, when Frank Brown, Billy Whitlock, Dick Pelham, and Dan D. Emmett appeared in the Chatham Square Theatre, New York, as the Virginia Minstrels and were 'received with deafening applause.' They were soon followed by band after band and hence transferred their labors to England to escape competition. When they returned there were the 'Kentucky Minstrels,' 'Congo Minstrels,' 'Original Virginia Serenaders,' 'African Serenaders,' and many more, among them the famous Christy's Minstrels, organized in 1844 or 1845.

The droll humor of the negro, his native wit and ludicrous ways were a rich field for travesty to draw upon. Exaggerated, burlesqued in showman fashion, it was the joy of audiences still fond of slap-stick comedy. But the pathetic side of negro existence, told in sentimental ballad and stories of plantation life, appealed as well. No less a person than Thackeray was affected by it. According to the famous author's own testimony, it 'moistened his spectacles in a most unexpected manner.'

From a mere accessory to the performance the negro minstrel show, thanks to the ingenuity of Edwin T. Christy, spread itself to usurp the entire evening. Christy created the form, the stereotype, as it were, of the minstrel show. He provided for a first part during which the performers, from four to twenty in number, seated in a single row with the 'interlocutor' in the centre[Pg 317] and 'bones' and 'tambo' at either end, engaged in repartee and song in negro dialect alternately. During the second part or 'olio' there were banjo playing, clog dancing, and other 'specialties.' It might be remarked here that the negro minstrel developed a style of instrumentalism all his own, consisting largely of violin and banjo playing, often in trick fashion, between the knees, over the head, behind the back, etc. The third part of the minstrel show degenerated into a musical variety entertainment as far removed from plantation life as possible.

Increased virtuosity notwithstanding, this breaking away from the negro traditions of the old minstrelsy brought about decay. Gorgeous show and glitter superseded negro characterization, just as the coon song took the place of the negro ditty, while only the blackened faces recalled the original intent of the entertainment. At present the minstrel show is dead except in amateur circles of the country town.

But it has served its purpose. It has created a stock of songs which, though not strictly folk-tunes, are so nearly so as to find a legitimate place in this chapter. Only indirectly were they influenced by the negro; their composers were the minstrels themselves—the minstrels of fifty years ago, who constitute as unique a type as has existed in America. Indeed, they wrote the greater part of the 'popular music' of their day. Their entertainment called for a distinct and peculiar type of songs and the supplying of this demand called into play much genuine talent, though the showman was sadly deficient in musical grammar. His first models were probably the negro folk-songs with their stanza and chorus, the former a simple melody, the latter in improvised harmony. 'The melodies which were more direct progenitors of the songs which Christy's minstrels and other minstrel companies carried all over the land were attributed to the Southern negroes; songs[Pg 318] like "Coal Black Rose," "Zip Coon,"[78] and "Ole Virginny Nebber Tire" have always been accepted as the creation of the blacks,' says Mr. Krehbiel, 'though I do not know whether or not they really are.'

Most of the names of minstrel composers are now forgotten; B. R. Hanby, the author of 'Ole Shady'; Eastburn, who wrote 'The Little Brown Jug'; the writers of 'Gentle Annie' and 'Rosa Lee, or Don't be Foolish, Joe,' live on by their songs alone. But there are two names, perhaps three, that stand out above the rest and should be remembered as the names of composers. One of them only was a minstrel, Dan Emmett, and one of his inspirations has sufficed to make him immortal.[79] Many other popular and original tunes flowed from his facile pen—'Old Dan Tucker,' 'Early in the Morning,' etc.—but none has achieved the fame of 'Dixie.' The second famous writer of minstrel tunes, Stephen Foster, was a composer who wrote in the minstrel style simply because it was the prevailing style and because he found a ready market for that sort of product. But, regardless of the artistic value of that kind of music in general, Foster must always be counted among the really great American composers.

Stephen Collins Foster was born in Lawrenceburg, now a part of Pittsburgh, Pa., on July 4, 1826. By instinct and by inheritance he was a Southerner, for his father had come from Virginia and his mother from Maryland. Foster was not a professional musician; he acted as bookkeeper for his brother, a prosperous merchant of Pittsburgh, and got his inspiration at camp meetings. He taught himself the flageolet, studied Mozart and Weber assiduously, and acquired a knowledge [Pg 319]of French and German by his own efforts. He dabbled in composition, turned out a 'Tioga Waltz' for four flutes (!), and in 1842 wrote a song, 'Open thy Lattice, Love,' to words by someone else. He and five friends constituted themselves a little singing club and for this he wrote many songs, including 'Oh, Susanna,' 'Old Uncle Ned,' etc., in the style of the negro folk-song. Though a German musician of Pittsburgh criticized his work for him, he certainly had no real musical training. By the advice of friends he devoted several years to the voice and pianoforte, 'but he was afraid that too much study would impair his originality! Hence, if his harmonies are bald, his accompaniments empirical, and his part writing unskilled, we need not wonder, but only regret that so graceful a flower was not planted in richer soil.'[80]

After submitting 'Oh, Susannah' to a minstrel troupe Foster adopted that style for most of his songs. There are about one hundred and sixty in all, a small number of them true gems, perhaps unsurpassed in their way; many, especially the later ones, mere pot-boilers. 'The Old Folks at Home,' 'My Old Kentucky Home,' 'Massa's in de Cold, Cold Ground,' 'Old Black Joe,' are practically immortal. They are to America what Silcher's and Weber's songs are to Germany—they are as simple and beautiful in their expression as they are sincere in their sentiment. They were born of the impulse of creation and it is to be remarked that this applies to the text as well, for Foster wrote nearly all of his own lyrics.

There are besides a number of sentimental ballads—'Nellie Bly,' 'Nancy Tile,' 'Come where My Love Lies Dreaming,' etc.—perhaps somewhat more artificial, rather trivial in sentiment and certainly more German than negro in their substance—and some comic pieces, [Pg 320]such as 'The Camptown Races.' His last work was 'The Beautiful Dream,' written in 1864.

Foster had a gentle, sweet nature, but lacking in self-discipline and easily led. He was childlike in his sentiments, possessed of a pathetic affection for his parents and an almost maniacal love for his mother throughout his life. He married at the age of twenty-eight, but soon separated from his wife, became shiftless and addicted to drink. Want drove him to rapid production—he could write a song in the morning, sell it at noon and spend the proceeds at night. Finally, he found himself in New York, penniless, without employment and in 1864 came to a tragic end in a cheap East Side hotel at the age of thirty-three.

His life, with its grim romance, reminds one of the career of that other American genius, Edgar Allan Poe. Both were aristocrats of Southern antecedents and made of the very essence of the American stock. Both spoke in an idiom remarkably attuned to the best of the American genius. Foster's melodies partake essentially of the folk manner—they are volkstümlich—they might have been folk-songs, except that they are individually conceived, that their birth is legitimate, so to speak. In the hearts of the people they rank as folk-songs, and, their appeal being permanent, interesting conclusions might be drawn from them as to the qualities of the American national character.

The other non-minstrel composer whom we desire to mention as a writer of popular tunes of the minstrel type is Henry Clay Work (b. Middletown, Conn., 1832, d. Hartford, Conn., 1882). Work also was not a trained musician in the modern sense, but a musician of earnest endeavor and sincere expression. Louis C. Elson says 'he sounded the most characteristic note of all the American composers of the time, and his songs give almost every note in the gamut of expression, from sarcasm to triumph, from gaiety to military glory.'

[Pg 321]

The emancipation movement inspired Work in the direction of pseudo-negro songs—'Kingdom Comin’' and 'Babylon is Fallen' being the first of a series of contributions to the music of the Civil War. Work's most lasting success is, of course, 'Marching Through Georgia,' which properly comes under the head of patriotic songs.

VI

A type of folk-song that is as often appropriated as it is indigenous is the patriotic song. It can be called a folk-song only in the sense that the people sing it, though in a measure it must reflect the character of the people—in a measure only, for one nation is very much like the other when fired by patriotism. Almost invariably, however, such songs are created at times of national stress, when feelings run high and poetic outbursts come from unexpected quarters. Such are the circumstances under which nearly all patriotic songs were created, 'Yankee Doodle,' 'Hail Columbia,' 'The Star Spangled Banner,' 'John Brown,' and 'Marching Through Georgia' included. Some, like 'Dixie,' became patriotic unintentionally, so to speak, and some, like 'America,' were simply applications of foreign tunes to native words.

The earliest American patriotic song, dating from colonial days, was a 'Liberty Song,' the words of which were written by Mrs. Mercy Warren, the wife of Mr. James Warren, of Plymouth. The verses were as amateurish as the music is angular and bombastic. It was advertised in the 'Boston Chronicle' in 1768. Both the advertisement and the song are reproduced in Elson's 'History of American Music' (pp. 140 ff.). The patriotism reflected in the song is that of the Colonial:

[Pg 322]

But after 1770 a new version appeared:

After the storm thus foreboded broke loose, the 'Liberty Song' hardly sufficed to express people's feelings, but there was nothing to take its place. To be sure, in William Billings' 'Singing Master's Assistant' there were printed two war songs that became very popular, especially the one for which Billings himself composed the words and set them to his favorite tune, 'Chester':

'The enthusiasm with which Billings sang and taught these songs communicated itself to the people, even to those who in the prejudice of their time had strenuously opposed singing in the churches, but no one could doubt the composer's sincere patriotism.'[81] Then there were some stanzas, set to an old Scotch tune and sung by the Pennsylvania regiments during the Revolution, and a convivial soldiers' song, 'The Volunteer Boys,' that was composed by Henry Archer, an Englishman, in 1778, and widely sung. But the one revolutionary tune that has survived was, strange enough, originally a song of derision aimed at the American troops by the British. That tune is 'Yankee Doodle.' 'Yankee,' the term still applied to Americans in general by Europeans, but by Americans to New Englanders in particular, has [Pg 323]a doubtful etymology. There is an Indian word 'yankoos,' which means invincible, and a Cherokee word, 'eankke,' signifying coward or slave; 'kanokie,' or silent man, was the name applied to Connecticut settlers by the natives—according to 'Diedrich Knickerbocker'—and, finally, there is 'yengeese,' an Indian corruption of 'English'—all possible roots of the word. There are other plausible derivations, including one from the Norwegian and others from the Scotch. The word 'doodle,' too, has a Scotch meaning—'dudeln,' to play music. For the origin of the combination 'Yankee Doodle,' there are, as Mr. Sonneck puts it, 'whole genealogies of theories.' Probably the words were not used before 1700. The first known mention of the song so entitled is in a letter of April 26, 1776, in which it is called 'a song composed in derision of New Englanders, scornfully called Yankees.'

Many theories there are also regarding the origin of the tune. Most of them, including the well-known story of a British officer having composed it during the Revolution, are impossible, while the claim of Dr. Richard Schuchburgh[82] as its composer (at Albany in 1755) is very doubtful. It is said to have been played by a fife-major of the Grenadier Guards in 1750 as a march, and a tune at least similar to it is supposed to have been familiar to the English peasantry previous to the time of Charles I. Whatever its origin, it was played by the Americans at Burgoyne's surrender (Saratoga, 1777) and again at the surrender of Yorktown, at the instance of Lafayette, who probably intended it as a taunt. It was recognized officially as an American national song at the signing of the treaty of Ghent (1814), when the Flemish burghers serenaded the American ambassadors with the tune, having learned it from Henry Clay's servant!

[Pg 324]

'America,' sung to the same tune as 'God Save the King'—a tune that has been variously appropriated by other nations—had its American origin in the Park Street Church, Boston, the words being written for a children's celebration held on July 4, 1832, by the Rev. Samuel F. Smith, a young theological student. Before this, however, the tune had done service at different times for 'God Save America,' 'God Save George Washington,' and what not. The origin of the melody, like that of many other good tunes, is shrouded in mystery. It is generally attributed to Dr. John Bull (b. 1563), who is supposed to have written it for a banquet given to James I in 1607. But Mr. Sonneck remarks that 'with such arguments [as Mr. Elson's comparisons] the main theme of the last movement of Beethoven's Ninth Symphony would become very close to being inspired by 'Yankee Doodle.'[83] After citing many theories Mr. Elson remarks that 'there seems, however, scarcely a doubt that Henry Carey, the composer of "Sally in Our Alley," the unfortunate genius who commited suicide after a blameless life of eighty years, with a single half-penny in his pocket [in the year 1740], was the author and composer of the great anthem.'

Joseph Hopkinson (1770-1842), in a letter of August 24, 1840, throws light on the origin of 'Hail Columbia,' another popular American patriotic song. It was, according to him, originally a political song rather than a national one. The tune is that of the old 'President's March,' a leading work in the early American répertoire, composed, some say, by Johannes Roth, a German musician of Philadelphia, popularly known as 'Old Roth,' in 1689, but more probably by a certain Pheil, to whom it is attributed in a copy of the year 1793, in the possession [Pg 325]of the Library of Congress.[84] In 1798 Hopkinson wrote new words for it, which were a glorification of President Adams and Federalism. Sung by Hopkinson's friend, Gilbert Fox, an actor, at a benefit performance, it roused great enthusiasm and the audience joined in the chorus. But the 'Aurora' of April 27,1798, called it 'a most ridiculous bombast and the vilest adulation of the Anglo-monarchical party.' Since its use as a Federal song 'Hail Columbia' has undergone a considerable process of polishing, but its erstwhile popularity has not by any means worn off.

'The Star Spangled Banner,' because of its exclusive use and its inherent musical strength universally recognized as the 'National Anthem' of America, is, like its brothers, an imported article. The tune is that of an old English drinking song, 'To Anacreon in Heaven,' written by the president of the Anacreontic Society in London about 1770-75. The music is, in all likelihood, by John Stafford Smith (1750-1836), also a member of the society and author of the Musica Antiqua (1832). Its American use dates from 1798, when Robert Treat Paine, whose real name was Thomas Paine, but who objected to being confused with the 'atheist' Paine, adopted it to words of his own, under the title of 'Adams and Liberty, the Boston Patriotic Song.' Other versions, such as 'Jefferson and Liberty,' appeared for various occasions, one even to celebrate the Russian victory over Napoleon! But the real version, the one we know to-day, was born during the War of 1812 under conditions which fire the patriot's imagination.

The story is well known. Francis Scott Key, the author of the words, was sent to the British Fleet in Chesapeake Bay as the envoy of President Madison to request the release of a non-combatant citizen held as prisoner. As the bombardment of Fort Henry was to take place that day, the British commander retained [Pg 326]Key till there was no fear of divulging the British plans. On the morning of Sept 14th, after a night of bombardment, the anxious envoy looked toward the fort and there saw the flag of his country still flying proudly over the battlements. Inspired by the sight, he wrote the first stanza on the back of an old letter:

On the return to Baltimore he wrote the remaining stanzas and the poem appeared in the Baltimore 'American' of September 21, 1814, as a 'broadside.' The stirring measures of the song have never lost their hold on the American people, and the piece has taken its place among the great national anthems of the world.

The next national song, in chronological order, is the popular 'Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean' ('The Red, White and Blue'). Its history is not so romantic. Thomas à Becket, an English actor in 1843, playing at that time in Philadelphia, wrote both the verses and the music, after rejecting a set of verses written by David T. Shaw, a singer then appearing at the 'Museum,' also in Philadelphia. It first appeared, however, as the work of Shaw—until à Becket convinced the publisher of his authorship—after which it was so published, with the inscription 'Sung by D. T. Shaw.' When the author of the song visited England in 1847 he found the song already 'naturalized' as 'Britannia, the Pride of the Ocean,' and it has since become a favorite of the British army and navy.

The national song répertoire received no further notable accessions till the Civil War, a period terrible[Pg 327] and wonderful, that called forth expressions of exalted feeling on both sides of the struggle, North and South. 'The Star Spangled Banner' was at first claimed by both sides. But all attempts to adapt the song by the addition of new verses seem to have failed. The South found an early substitute in such songs as 'Maryland, My Maryland,' which James Ryder Randall wrote to suit the melody of the old German folk-tune O Tannenbaum. The occasion for this effusion was the attack on the Sixth Massachusetts Regiment while marching through Baltimore.

Of all the other Southern war songs only one has survived, and that was of Northern origin. 'Dixie's Land' was, we have already seen, originally a 'walk-around' dance, written for Bryant's Minstrels by one of their number, Dan Emmett. There has been so much discussion of the circumstances of its birth that it may be well to quote an eye-witness, so to speak, namely, Charley White, the minstrel, whose diary has already furnished us with some facts:

'One Saturday night in 1859, when Dan Emmett was a member of Bryant's Minstrels at Mechanics' Hall, New York, Dan [Bryant] said to Emmett: "Can't you get us up a walk-around dance? I want something new and lively for next Monday night." At that date, and for a long time after, minstrel shows used to finish up the evening performance with a walk-around dance, in which the whole company would participate. The demand for this especial material was constant, and Dan Emmett was the principal composer of all, especially for the Bryant Minstrels. Emmett, of course, went to work, and, as he had done so much in that line of composition, he was not long in finding something suitable. At last he hit upon the first two bars, and any composer can tell you how good a start that is in the manufacture of a melody. The next day, Sunday, he had the words commencing "I wish I was in Dixie." This[Pg 328] colloquial expression is not, as most people suppose, a Southern phrase, but first appeared among the circus men in the North. In early fall, when nipping frost would overtake the tented wanderers, the boys would think of the genial warmth of the section they were heading for and the common expression would be, "Well, I wish I was in Dixie." This gave the title or catch line; the rest of the song was original. On Monday morning the song was rehearsed and highly recommended, and at night, as usual, the house was crowded and many of the auditors went home singing "Dixie." The song soon became the rage and several other minstrel organizations ... applied to Emmett for copy and privilege of using it.... Not only was Emmett robbed of the copyright, but the authorship of it was disputed as well.'

In secession days the song was branded in the North as a Rebel song, and a Maine editor attacked Emmett as a Secessionist. It next bobbed up in New Orleans in 1861 as a 'Zouave march' in 'Pocahontas,' appropriated for the occasion by Carlo Patti, the brother of the prima donna, who acted as conductor. When the war broke out, the Washington Artillery had it arranged as a quick-step and soon 'saloons, parlors, and the streets rang with the Dixie air.' The contagious nature of the tune easily accounts for its rapid spread and ultimate universal popularity. It is undoubtedly the most original of all American national songs.

Turning to the North, the first tune we meet is the famous 'John Brown's Body,' one of the most stirring marching songs ever written, a favorite among soldiers the world over. Its origin is humble—a camp-meeting song among many, sung by the negroes in the South years before the War, to religious words. It may be, indeed, a negro folk-song, though its authorship is claimed for William Steffe, a composer of Sunday-school music. It was started on its patriotic career[Pg 329] by the 'Tigers,' a battalion in the 12th Massachusetts Regiment. The words 'Say, brothers, will you meet us?' were taken from the lips of recruits by Captain Hallgreen, the author of the poem. John Brown, the hero of the song, was not the John Brown of Harper's Ferry, but a good-natured Scotchman, who was the subject of a current joke among the men. The words were prophetic, for John Brown of the 'Tigers' lost his life during a retreat of the Union forces. All attempts of the superior officers to substitute a name with more dignity and fame miscarried, and John Brown was made immortal by his fellows. The 'Twelfth' sang the song from city to city and the swing of it set people wild. Later, when heard in camp, the tune appealed so strongly to James Freeman Clarke, that he induced Julia Ward Howe to dignify it with more serious words. 'The Battle Hymn of the Republic' was the result.

A composer whose Civil War songs achieved almost the rank of national songs is George F. Root (1820-1895). His 'Battle Cry of Freedom,' 'Tramp, Tramp, Tramp, the Boys are Marching,' and 'Just Before the Battle, Mother' became favorites during the war and have enjoyed an afterglow of popularity since. Dr. Root was an exponent of the Lowell Mason system,[85] and was a convention leader who had followed Mason in his method of diffusing music among the masses. He was a pupil of George J. Webb and also pursued the study of his art in Paris.

As a final word we must recall Henry Clay Work's 'Marching through Georgia,' which is perhaps the best of the tunes written expressly as war songs. It is a stirring melody with all the qualities of a national anthem, though unfortunately its partisan inspiration and associations will not allow it to be such. There is nothing to record in the way of patriotic songs since the stormy days of the Civil War. Peaceful times have [Pg 330]turned composers' attention elsewhere, and progress in the higher forms of art music has gone on apace. Accordingly, it now becomes our duty to record the achievements of American musicians in the field of conscious creative endeavor.

C. S.

CHAPTER XII
THE CLASSIC PERIOD OF AMERICAN COMPOSITION

I

American musical composition lends itself to several kinds of classification, according to the point from which it is viewed. Historically, or, more properly speaking, chronologically, considered, the entire output of American composers divides itself rather naturally into two parts. The first comprises the works of those writers with whom this chapter deals, and who have adopted the older models of the classic and romantic schools. In the second group we find those writers of a later generation who employ post-Wagner idioms. Some of these have stopped at the Wagner boundaries, while others, naturally the younger men, have pressed on and are following in the steps of the ultra-modern German or French composers. In this classification, as in all artistic comparisons, there can be drawn no sharp line of demarcation. We find an occasional flash of modernity in a supposedly confirmed classicist, while, on the other hand, among the more advanced and iconoclastic of our modern writers we often find a remaining trace of a severer classicism.

[Pg 332]

Outside of these two principal groups we see to-day a constantly increasing number of composers who are making serious attempts to weld from the several folk-song elements of this continent a truly national music. It was Antonin Dvořák who first counselled the American composer to thus employ the methods from which alone could be formed a distinctive school. Dvořák himself, in setting the example, only proved how deep-rooted are the traditions and feelings of the racial vein, and placed our negro themes into a setting unmistakably Slavic. It must be confessed that a similar result has been obtained by most of our native composers and the surroundings in which they have set these various folk-song elements only serve to emphasize the decided and almost inevitable leanings of these composers toward one or another of the prevailing European schools.

From an æsthetic standpoint our native art exhibits the varied manifestations common to the art of all times, traits as varied as those of human character itself. Broadly speaking, there are always the large and the small, which in poetic forms we can conveniently label as epic and lyric. Of the former there is no prodigality of output by any age or people. There is always much of the spurious epic, and it must be confessed that America, with its lack of national consciousness and art discipline or tradition, together with its over-weening ambition, has already produced its share of this form of insincere art. On the contrary, the number of genuine lyrical writers which America can boast is surprisingly large, and those names which stand out conspicuously in the annals of American art may, almost without exception, be called lyricists.

Early American Composers: Lowell Mason, William H. Fry, Louis M. Gottschalk, Stephen Emery.

The first creative activities in American music were those of the psalm-tune writers in New England, William Billings, Oliver Holden, Lowell Mason, and others which have been spoken of in our chapter on the Beginnings of Musical Culture (pp. 45 ff.). Historically these early hymns are interesting, and, had not European culture so completely influenced the later course of American composition, it is not unlikely that they might have served in some measure as a contributory vein to our native art. They remain, however, but the reflection of the colorless puritanism which was their source, a naïve expression which can hardly be placed in the category of art and hence as American compositions do not here claim our further notice.

While in the early years of New England there was developing a music which, in a way, sprang from the people—a music which really expressed a vital phase of the common life—there were elsewhere springing up the first growths of a more sophisticated art. This art, borrowed from European culture, has served as the real foundation of all that is esoteric in American music to-day, but at the same time its presence has fostered those influences which constitute the barrier to a vital national expression. It is significant that these first appearances of a more ambitious art were in a department where there could be no nourishment from native roots of tradition, taste, or even understanding—that of opera.

In spite of these circumstances, so discouraging to the healthy growth of a natural art-expression, it must be related that the operas of William H. Fry (born in Philadelphia, 1813; died 1864) were serious in their aim and in their workmanship showed the hand of a surprisingly skilled artist and one well versed in the older dramatic formulas. The claim that Fry has to the title given him by certain writers as 'the first American composer' is therefore considerable. Fry's training was entirely European. He was for some time resident in Paris, where, we are told, he was a friend of Berlioz. Of Fry's several operas 'Leonora' (produced in 1845) seems to have been the most successful.[Pg 334] The book is after Victor Hugo's Notre Dame de Paris, and, while the score represents merely (as do many more modern American operatic scores) a strange mingling echo of the several European models of the day, there are a vitality and a grasp of form which make the achievement in a measure phenomenal.

Associated with Fry in his musical life was another pioneer of the opera field, George F. Bristow (born in 1825; died in 1898), whose scores, however, have less of dramatic freedom than have those of Fry, being more strongly marked with the influences of German classicism. Bristow's works include an opera, 'Rip Van Winkle,' an unfinished opera, 'Columbus,' the oratorios 'Praise to God' and 'Daniel,' five symphonies, two overtures, string quartets, and many shorter works.

Another name that finds place in the early annals of American music is that of Stephen Emery (born 1841; died 1891), counted a composer in his day but now known to us chiefly as one of America's first theoreticians and the teacher of many whose names are now well known.

Larger is the place filled by the name of Gottschalk. Louis Moreau Gottschalk may be claimed as an American, having been born at New Orleans in 1829, but his decidedly Creole origin and French education seem to remove him from the line of relationship with those Anglo-Saxon traditions which we are apt to consider as constituting the purely American.

Gottschalk enjoyed during his life equal fame as pianist and composer. His claim to the former was probably just; Berlioz himself spoke with enthusiasm of his playing and of our own artists we have the testimony of many, such as William Mason, Carl Bergmann, and Richard Hoffman, as to the genuine enjoyment which they obtained in hearing the concerts of Gottschalk. But how evanescent has been the fame of his compositions, existing only in the memory of comparatively[Pg 335] few; as entities they are already silent pages of notes. All that is heard of his music to-day is an occasional faint tinkle of that surviving strain of sentimentality which was destined to such continued popularity in the polite répertoire, 'The Last Hope.' Gottschalk wrote two operas and several orchestral scores and many songs, but his piano compositions comprise the bulk of his works. While there are among these compositions many pages of beauty not unlike that of Chopin, and in the dance compositions on negro-creole and Spanish themes a certain vigor and distinction, the majority of them represent the merest vehicles of virtuosity written to tickle the ears of a public which had been brought up on the banalities played by the sensational pianists that visited America in those days. Over-sentimental, and at times vulgar, as the art of Gottschalk now appears to us, his place in American music is an important one and we cannot but feel that amid environments more sustaining to a higher ideal of art such a genuinely musical temperament as was his would have produced an art less ephemeral.

II

These early apparitions of American musical art are now to us only matters of history. Whatever influence they may have had on the conditions of their day, our present day musical life has been unaffected by them. For the establishment of that which, for lack of better name, we call the American school of composers we again look to New England. Through the few composers known as the Boston group America first assimilated into its musical life the best traditions of European musical culture and in the labors of these men the American community was taught in some degree to look seriously upon the native composer and his achievement.

[Pg 336]

First in this list is the name of the man who stands as the patriarch of American music, John Knowles Paine, the first professor of music at Harvard University and the pioneer in the field of symphonic composition. Born in Portland, Maine, in 1839, Paine received a thorough academic training in Germany (1858-1862). While still abroad he produced several ambitious works and he returned to America with a fame that eventually secured for him the chair of music at Harvard. Here he filled an important mission in guiding the steps of many of the younger composers who studied with him. In the meantime Paine's academic life by no means stifled his creative impulse and his list of works shows a steady output up to within a short time before his death in 1906.

Important among Paine's larger works are the two symphonies, the first in C minor and the second ('Spring Symphony') in A major, the oratorio 'St. Peter,' two symphonic poems, 'The Tempest' and 'An Island Fantasy,' the music to Sophocles' 'Œdipus' for male voices and orchestra, and an opera, 'Azara.' Besides these there is a considerable list of chamber music and much in the smaller forms.

Paine's music, while never approaching modernity in the present-day application of the word, in passing through several periods of development arrived at a point where the idiom employed could in a broad sense be termed modern. An anti-Wagnerite in the early days of his academic austerity, he lived to be drawn into the Wagner vortex and in some of his later works the Wagner influence asserts itself. Perhaps the most representative of Paine's works is one which belongs to an earlier period, the music to Œdipus Tyrannus (1881). In this work Paine uses a classic-romantic medium far from rich in its color possibilities, with which, however, he obtains a notable variety of effect and a glowing warmth of style. In size of conception[Pg 337] the summit of Paine's achievement is to be found in his opera Azara (1901) composed to a libretto of his own after the old Breton legend 'Aucassin and Nicolette.' Containing much that is beautiful, and estimable in its workmanship, the opera fails in dramatic force and has never come to a stage production. A concert performance of it was given, however, in 1906 by the Cecilia Society of Boston under the direction of B. J. Lang.

The most representative member of the present Boston colony, as well as one of the most eminent of American composers, is George W. Chadwick (born 1854). Mr. Chadwick's education also was a German one and on his return to America after three years' study in Leipzig and Munich he began to produce works of a scholarly formality. Had the course of Mr. Chadwick's development been arrested at this point he might fittingly bear the title of 'academic' which Mr. Rupert Hughes puts on him.[86] But between the date of these earlier works and Chadwick's latest works there has been in his art a steady development both in form and spirit, so that his recent scores, 'Adonis' (1901), 'Euterpe' (1904), 'Cleopatra' (1906), and 'Aphrodite' (1912), are distinctly representative of the modern school. These works, while purporting to be program music, are only qualifiedly so, for Chadwick always preserves a certain severe formalism which precludes the possibilities of his capitulation either to the impressionist vagaries of modern French music or to the polyphonic complexities of the Germans of to-day. In spite of this tendency to formality, Mr. Chadwick in his writing has achieved a notable freedom of style, a dramatic force and a mastery of orchestral color which contribute to give him a certain place among living orchestral composers. Mr. Chadwick enjoys the largest hearing of living American composers.

[Pg 338]

His name has been permanent in the lists of the Boston Symphony, while he has had frequent hearings in the other orchestras of America and Europe. Mr. Chadwick is also without question the best equipped and experienced of our native conductors, having been for many years the director of the Springfield and Worcester festivals.

Besides his orchestral works, Chadwick has shown himself a versatile and prolific composer in a great amount of chamber music, a large number of choral works, a comic opera, many songs, choruses, and piano compositions. Unlike the lyric genius of MacDowell, his talent does not find itself so fitted to the smaller forms and he seems often to slight them with an expression more or less banal in its conventionality. It must be added, however, that there are exceptions to this and one might cite the 'Ballad of Trees and the Master' as being one of Chadwick's best inspirations.

Mr. Arthur Foote has long been acknowledged in Europe as one of the foremost American composers. In his own country his influence has been as widely felt as that of any of his countrymen. Not only by his compositions but by his teaching as well, his name has become pre-eminent. Graduated from Harvard in 1874, he was granted the degree of A. M. in music the following year. His teachers in composition were Stephen A. Emery and Professor John Knowles Paine of Harvard. Furthermore, he studied the piano and the organ with B. J. Lang of Boston. All his training was received in this country, and the results of it may well be a source of pride to his countrymen.

Entering upon his career at a time when the standard of musical performance in this country was low, he was quick to respond to the influence of Theodore Thomas, and later Franz Kneisel, and to exert his efforts in raising the state of performance here toward its present equality with that of Europe. He was no less quick to[Pg 339] study and to appreciate the great works pouring out upon Europe at that time. He has always kept in closest touch with the development of all branches of music down to the present, and has ever been active in bringing new works before the public.

As a composer he has written in nearly all forms except the opera. Many of his songs have achieved a world-wide fame, such as the 'Irish Folk-song,' 'I'm Wearing Awa' to the Land o' the Leal' and the brilliant Bedouin song for chorus of men's voices. These songs should not be taken as the complete expression of his genius, but should lead to the study of his other songs, more than a hundred in all, which are not less inspired because more difficult. A keen insight into the possibilities of the voice, a touch of lyric genius, and an unfailing ingenuity in accompaniments are their distinguishing characteristics.

In the treatment of string instruments Foote has been remarkably successful. Two trios, two quartets and a very fine piano quintet in A minor are conspicuous in the list of American music. The quintet has been and still is distinguished by many performances. Through the strings he approached the orchestra. A serenade in E for string orchestra has been frequently heard. Two suites for full orchestra, one in D minor and one in E, and a symphonic prologue, Francesca da Rimini, have proved his skill in combining instruments. Very recently he has written a series of pieces suggested by the Rubaîyat of Omar Khayyâm, which are far more brilliantly scored and are quite in keeping with the modern spirit of splendid tone color.

As organist for many years at the First Unitarian Church in Boston he acquired that intimate familiarity with the possibilities of the organ which shows in the many pieces he has written for it. But particularly as a pianist he won a wide fame, and the more than ten series of pianoforte pieces are written with an appreciation[Pg 340] of pianistic effect which distinguishes them in the main from nearly all other pianoforte music produced in this country. Nor should the skill he has shown in editing the pianoforte works of many of the great masters pass unnoticed.

Of his compositions as a whole it may be said that they are astonishingly original in an age which has found it all but impossible to escape imitation. He is, like most of the great composers, largely self-taught, and yet there is scarcely a trace of mannerisms; nor what is even more remarkable, of the mannerisms of others. His music is the pure and perfectly formed expression of a nature at once refined and imaginative. In these days of startling innovations, the sincerity of which may not be unhesitatingly trusted, it sounds none the less spirited because it is unquestionably genuine and relatively simple. It stands forth as a substantial proof that delicate poetry and clear-cut workmanship have not yet failed to charm.

Although he has lived at New Haven for the past twenty years, during which time he has been professor of music at Yale, Horatio Parker's career is in a large measure identified with Boston and its circles. Parker was born (1863) at Auburndale, a suburb of Boston, and his earliest teachers were Stephen Emery and Chadwick. After his preliminary studies with these men Parker studied with Rheinberger in Munich. Returning home in 1885, he soon began to attract notice by the excellence of his compositions and to-day he stands as one of the commanding figures in American music. His compositions have won a dignified place for themselves and his conscientious labors at Yale have created a music department that far excels those of the other American universities in the practical advantages which it offers to the serious music student.

The list of Parker's works is long and varied. It[Pg 341] contains, besides his two most famous works (the oratorio Hora Novissima and the opera 'Mona'), several orchestral scores, among others an overture (in E flat), a symphony, and 'A Northern Ballad.' There are also several shorter choral works, a few chamber music works, including a string quartet, a string quintet, and a suite for piano, violin and 'cello, besides many songs and piano pieces.

The same qualities of Parker's art which contribute to the success of Hora Novissima, the first work to bring him fame, are those which operate against the success of his latest and largest effort, the opera 'Mona.' The former offered to the composer the most suitable field for his scholarly but somewhat ascetic conceptions and by this same self-contained and poised loftiness of style, together with a rare skill in handling vocal masses in contrapuntal design, does he achieve in Hora Novissima a work of genuine strength and a valuable addition to the list of modern oratorios. The work, written in 1893 for the Church Choral Society of New York, received its first performance by that body. Performances by several other choral societies and at several musical festivals in America rapidly followed, and in 1899 it had the honor of being the first American work to appear upon the program of the Three Choirs Festival in Worcester, England, at which performance the composer conducted. Since that time it has assumed its place among the standard choral works of our day.

Parker's opera, 'Mona,' was awarded the prize offered by the Metropolitan Opera Company in 1911 in a contest of American composers. Its score reveals an enormous advance in the composer's mastery of resource, both as regards dramatic expression and orchestral color. There are an admirable freedom of line and sustained polyphonic interest, while the skill with which the orchestral color is distributed exhibits[Pg 342] Parker's strongest feature. In spite of these merits the almost unanimous opinion of the music critics must be admitted, in a degree, as just. The opera, upon its production at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York, in 1911-12, was found to be lacking in a really convincing musical grip, due to the absence of an underlying emotional warmth and to the essentially unmelodic treatment of the solo voices. The choruses and mass effects proved the best features of the opera, again showing that Mr. Parker's first successes were in a field more suited to his talents than the domain of dramatic music. Another opera, 'Fairyland,' won another prize of ten thousand dollars in 1915.

Mrs. H. H. A. Beach stands quite in a class by herself as the only American woman who has essayed compositions in the larger form. Her success entitles her to a prominent place among the most serious of American composers. Her 'Gaelic Symphony' and her sonata for violin and piano are two long successful works, while recently she has had a most cordial and flattering reception in Europe for her piano concerto in which she herself played the solo part. Besides these works Mrs. Beach has written a Jubilate for chorus with orchestra, and a quantity of piano music and songs, of which some of the latter have achieved a wide popularity.

Mrs. Beach at her best writes in a broad and bold vein with a pulsing rhythmical sense, a natural melodic line, and she exhibits an extraordinary strength in the sustained and impassioned quality of her climaxes. On the other side, Mrs. Beach may be accused of having a harmonic sense rather too persistently conventional and in her less inspired moments her fault is that which Mr. Hughes[87] has pointed out, namely, a tendency to over-elaboration.

There are several other composers whose labors are [Pg 343]identified with the musical life of Boston, although in some instances they have not been continuously resident there. Louis Adolphe Coerne received his early training at Harvard under Prof. Paine and was later awarded a doctor's degree in philosophy by the same university for his excellent book 'The Development of the Modern Orchestra.' Coerne's achievement in composition has been considerable; he is the author of two operas, one of which has been successfully performed in Germany. Other works include a symphonic poem on 'Hiawatha' and a ballet, 'Evadne.'

James C. D. Parker is one of the names associated with the older days of Boston's musical growth, for Mr. Parker graduated from Harvard in 1848 and his 'Redemption Hymn' was performed by the Handel and Haydn Society in 1877. He is best known by several melodious songs and by his church music.

George Whiting and George W. Marston are names which perhaps belong more properly in the list of church composers, as they were both closely identified with that field. The former, however, has written several works of large dimension, notably a cantata, 'The Golden Legend,' which has been much praised, while Mr. Marston's name is known outside of church circles by a surprisingly long list of songs, which, though slight in construction, are not without imaginative qualities.

Although not attaining to such a mastery of the more amplified forms as does Mrs. Beach, Margaret Ruthven Lang has made several successful essays in the form of orchestral overtures, which have been played. Miss Lang's best-known works, however, are her songs, the widespread popularity of certain ones of which has given her a real and lasting fame as a song writer.

[Pg 344]

III

In grouping the foregoing names and labelling them as the 'Boston group' it must not be understood to imply that the art of these writers forms a school in the sense of its having a common distinctive idiom or style. The group marks in some of its members, as has been said before, an early era of American composition. The fact that Boston became the birthplace of America's first serious musical art was probably due to the presence there of the largest and best permanent orchestra, to the establishment of the first university department of music (at Harvard), and doubtless also in no small degree to the general intellectual life of the New England metropolis.

Generally speaking, however, locality plays but a small part in marking the traits of our native composers. As in all places and at all times, opportunity to hear and to be heard has drawn the best talent to the larger centres. The musical life of New York, as well as that of Chicago, while differing in many essential features from that of Boston, discloses many similar phases of artistic endeavor as we compare the contemporaneous musical life of these cities.

Among the names of those who were the pioneers in the musical culture of New York none is better known than that of William Mason, the first of America's great pianists, who in his earlier life did valiant service in America for the cause of Schumann and Brahms and whose entire life represents one of the highest and most effective of America's cultural influences. Dr. Mason was a son of Lowell Mason (q. v.) and was born in 1829. He spent the years from 1849 to 1854 in Europe, where he was one of the intimate circle of pupils which surrounded Liszt at Weimar.

[Pg 345]

Dr. Mason's place as a composer is not a large one. His list of works is represented almost exclusively by piano compositions, of which he wrote about forty. They are all in the smaller mold, and, while they are rather stereotyped and conventional in their lines, they have found a place in the pianistic répertoire as grateful and pleasing pieces of piano music.

The composer of church music has had a large place in the field of American composition. The impetus given to this branch of art by the New England 'psalm-tune teachers' was a strong one and it is but a natural consequence of their labors that to-day the church commands the services of so many of our writers. We shall consider the church composers and their works in subsequent paragraphs of this chapter, but the name of the Nestor of anthem writers—Dudley Buck—deserves mention in this place as being one of the first workers in the general musical service of earlier days in New York. Moreover, while the present fame of Buck rests largely upon his church music and upon one or two deservedly popular songs, he must not be overlooked as one of the first composers in America to essay the larger forms of cantata and oratorio.

Buck was born in Hartford in 1839. He studied at Paris and at Dresden for two years. Returning to America, he pursued his career first in his native city, later at Chicago and Boston, finally settling in 1875 at New York, where he passed the remainder of his life. Apart from the large mass of church music, more largely representative of his real mission than any other of his compositions, the list of Buck's works includes a symphonic overture 'Marion,' a comic opera 'Deseret,' besides a list of something like eighteen cantatas, the most ambitious of which is 'The Light of Asia.'

Buck's style never achieved a distinctive vein, nor is it ever marked with a loftiness of conception, but instead[Pg 346] there are, in the best of his pages, a Mendelssohnian fluency of writing and a natural melodic line which have gained for his works the favor of a large public.

One of the first native composers to receive serious recognition in Chicago was Silas G. Pratt, a musician who seems to have had a Wagner-like genius for self-exploitation, but whose brilliant career must be said to have been incommensurate with the real value of his works. Pratt was born in 1846 and as early as 1872 gave a concert of his own works in Chicago. Several years later he produced some of his larger works at concerts in Germany and England, and in 1885 his oratorio, 'The Prodigal Son,' and an anniversary overture were given in London. His opera 'Zenobia' had meanwhile (1882) been given in Chicago. Besides these works Pratt wrote two symphonies, a symphonic suite, and several works which are evidently an effort toward a national music, at least such is the implication of their titles and programs. One of these represents a battle of the Civil War, another depicts the incidents of Paul Revere's ride, while a third bears the impressive title 'The Battle of Manila.'

Another potent activity in the earlier days of Chicago's musical life was that of Frederic Grant Gleason (born in 1848), who has to his credit an imposing list of large works, including two operas, 'Montezuma' and Otho Visconte, a symphonic poem, 'Edris,' several cantatas, and many smaller works. Gleason was highly esteemed by Theodore Thomas, who produced many of his works in the Chicago concerts of the Thomas Orchestra.

Henry Schoenefeld was one of the first Americans to follow Dvořák's suggestion in adopting native folk-song as thematic material. Schoenefeld was born in Milwaukee in 1857 and on his return from Europe in 1879 took up his residence in Chicago. Not unlike his are the talents and aims of Maurice Arnold, another of[Pg 347] the first to exploit the negro themes, which he successfully incorporated into a violin sonata and a series of 'Plantation Dances.' Both will receive more extended notice in a later chapter.

As against these early efforts at instilling negro flavor into our national music may be noted one of the first attempts at utilizing Indian music as a thematic basis. This was done by Frederick R. Burton in his cantata 'Hiawatha' (1898). Besides this, the most successful of his works, Burton wrote a cantata, 'The Legend of Sleepy Hollow,' and the last years of his life were devoted to writing one of the most important contributions to the literature of American folk-music, a book on Indian music entitled 'American Primitive Music,' which was published in 1909, after Mr. Burton's death.

New York is often accused of being peculiarly non-representative of typical American life. The accusation is, in a measure, just and holds good in its application to musical conditions. As the metropolis, where, without doubt, more music than anywhere else in the country is heard, New York lacks a local life of its own; there is no feeling of neighborly companionship among its art workers, and in consequence there hardly exists that which we could term a New York 'group' of composers in the sense to which the term is applied to Boston's community of music-makers. New York claims as citizens many of America's best known composers, but they figure too little in the musical life of the city and are the objects of too little local pride.

An exception to this, however, is found in the case of Arthur Whiting, whose concerts bring him often into public view and whose local reputation as a pianist is undoubtedly far greater than his recognition as a composer. Deserving of the latter, however—and that by reason of a very serious and notable achievement in[Pg 348] creative fields—Arthur Whiting must be counted as one of the real ornaments of America's list of composers. Mr. Whiting's well-known Brahms enthusiasm and his activities as a producer of Brahms' works bring upon him the suspicion of being a thorough-going Brahmsite, even in his own compositions; a suspicion, however, not well founded, for Mr. Whiting is quite free from the Brahms influence. That he is ofttimes prone to intellectuality, and too rarely gives himself up to the spontaneous and expressively beautiful, is perhaps a more just accusation, but the statement that Mr. Whiting is an artist of deep sincerity, of high ideals, and of thorough equipment must remain unchallenged.

Mr. Whiting's recent work has been almost exclusively in the smaller forms. He has, however, in the past written several larger works, the best known of which is his Fantasie for piano and orchestra. This work, recently revived at a concert given by the American Academy, has a rhythmic energy that makes it 'American' in the best sense—a genuine and spontaneous expression of the national nervously intense temperament. For the most part, however, the orchestra has seemed to have but small inspiration to offer to him and his sober formal sense and his own distinctions of style lead him more naturally to the piano, the vocal quartet, and to other chamber music combinations as his medium of expression.

Henry Holden Huss is principally known through his successful handling of the larger forms and he can point with just pride to the real success which has been that of his piano concerto in D minor, his violin concerto, and his sonata for violin and piano. These, as well as a sonata for violoncello and piano, have all found acceptance with a number of the best living interpretive musicians, who have given Huss a very wide hearing.

[Pg 349]

Mr. Huss acknowledges himself a thorough-going Wagnerite and confesses to coming largely under the influence of his works, but the bulk of his writings shows other influences, notably in the strong sense of the classic cyclical form, which Mr. Huss handles with an excellent mastery and in which he proves himself an artist of great resource and equipment. Another favorite form with Huss is the extended aria with orchestra, and in this form he has written several of his best works. Among these may be mentioned 'Cleopatra's Death' for soprano, 'Nocturne' for the same voice, 'The Seven Ages of Man' for baritone, 'Home They Brought Her Warrior Dead' for alto, and 'After Sorrow's Night' for soprano. In the last-named work Mr. Huss has employed a harmonic scheme which in its modern freedom represents his most advanced development.

IV

At the head of the list of America's lyricists there stands a name perhaps more illustrious than any other which she boasts—that of Ethelbert Nevin. To speak critically of the art of Nevin is a delicate and a difficult task. Its nature does not invite critical examination or demand extended analysis. Nevin's music, in its absence of decided intellectual qualities, presents no striking originalities of style, but remains throughout the simply spontaneous and unaffected utterance of a real and deeply musical nature. It possesses, nevertheless, a strongly individual style (often becoming, we must confess, a mannerism) and an irresistible charm. Moreover, the wide appeal which it has made must be sufficient proof of the real vitality that underlies the seemingly slight psysiognomy of this delicate lyricism. To the aspiring mind, in the presence of an expression so genuine, there must come a strong[Pg 350] regret that with such poetical tenderness and grace there should not have been a vein of greater virility to have sounded a deeper note; one that would have played a more important part in the upbuilding of our national art. Despite the fact that the natural flow of Nevin's lyricism beguiled him continually along the lines of least resistance, his life's record was that of a very hard-working and conscientious artist.

Nevin was born near Pittsburgh in 1862. He had the advantage of early musical studies at home and abroad during a European sojourn of his family and he commenced his professional studies in 1881 under B. J. Lang and Stephen Emery in Boston. In 1884 he went to Berlin, where he worked diligently at his piano studies under Karl Klindworth. Returning home, two years later, he settled at Boston and taught, concertized, and followed more zealously his increasing inclination for composition. In 1891, after the publication of some of the songs and piano pieces which have since become so generally popular, Nevin's fame rapidly increased and he was able to indulge his taste for the roving life which he followed during the last ten years of his life, living at Paris, Berlin, Florence, Algiers, and elsewhere, with intervening visits to America, where he was heard in concerts of his own works. In the fall of 1900 Nevin settled at New Haven, where he died suddenly in February, 1901.

The list of Nevin's works comprises almost exclusively short songs and piano compositions. Exceptions to this are several choruses, two pieces for violin and piano, and a posthumously published cantata. That Nevin had larger ambitions in his later life is shown from certain of his letters and the sketches of larger works which he left unfinished. But as the result of his early habits of composition, of the too easy flow of his melody, and perhaps also of his too early successes he was kept within the confines of those miniature[Pg 351] and delicate forms which he made his own domain. The characteristics of Nevin's music, as displayed in these works, are, first, a melodic sense which, though lacking in variety because of decided mannerisms that control it, is full of graceful charm and genuine lyrical quality; second, a harmonic sense ever more limited in its scope but of natural and moving expressiveness. Into the naïve fabric of this the composer contrived to instil a flavor which, if not decidedly original, had a strongly individual feeling.

The first of Nevin's works to reach any popularity was 'A Sketch Book,' published in 1888. Several of its numbers are still reckoned among the most popular of Nevin's works. This was followed by several similar albums of songs and piano pieces until 1891, when, in a book of piano pieces entitled 'Water Scenes,' he published what was to be a piece of world-wide popularity, 'Narcissus.' 'A Book of Songs' (1893) contains the best of Nevin's vocal works. Regarded as a whole, they lack a uniformity of style and despite Mr. Thompson's assertion[88] that Nevin felt but slightly the influences of other composers, these songs show decided traces of the stamp which the study of other writers put upon his work. Chopin is perhaps the prevailing influence that shows itself. Some of the songs of this group mark Nevin's nearest approach to a dramatic style. In parts of number seven of this group, entitled Nocturne, there is a considerable sweep of fiery strength, and the two entitled 'Orsola's Song' and 'In the Night' exhibit a virile content rarely present in Nevin's work. We need not speak of the more popular songs of Nevin, such as 'The Rosary,' 'Little Boy Blue,' ''Twas April,' and 'Mighty Lak' a Rose.' Their appeal lies largely in the sentimental though genuinely tender and deep touch of pathos which they contain.

Nevin's piano works are distinctly Chopinesque.

[Pg 352]

Suave and elegant figures, grateful to the player, abound in these works and show the hand of the skillful pianist that Nevin was. Some of these piano pieces have become quite as popular as have the songs, and the collections entitled 'In Arcady' and 'A Day in Venice' have been placed in the household répertoire.

Ethelbert Nevin made no claims for his art. Almost unconscious of the larger world of a more universal expression, which the past and present might have offered to him, he created his own limited world and lived therein. We shall mistake, however, if we judge too slightingly of this world as the dilettante expression of a mere précieux. Something there is of genius in a man who can speak to so many. Ethelbert Nevin was an ornament to American music and the fame of his works will outlive the bulk of our more esoteric art.

It is difficult to find a fitting name to follow that of Nevin. While we have had writers in the smaller forms who equalled and even surpassed Nevin in dramatic force, or in subtleties of construction, the remainder of our purely lyrical writers, it must be said, are on a considerably lower plane and there is lacking in the work of most of them the elegance and fastidiousness which bring these small works within the pale of art. The status of many American songs is—unfortunately with truth—described in Grove's Dictionary (Vol. IV, 'Song'), where it is said: 'Many other American composers whose songs, whilst enjoying a great popularity, descend almost to the lowest level of vocal music.'

Ethelbert Nevin.

After a photograph from life

There are, however, a good many men whose works are saved from this condemnation. Notable among these is Wilson G. Smith (born in 1855), whose songs and piano contributions, while they must perhaps be designated as salon pieces, possess, nevertheless, a genuine charm. Many of Smith's piano pieces are an intentional imitation of other composers, in which field he is particularly happy. Of his songs there are a number which have been much sung. Rupert Hughes, with a just critical sense, not always his, points out the excellence of Smith's song 'If I but Knew,' as especially notable.

Certain of Reginald de Koven's songs rival in popularity the light operas of that composer (see Chap. XV). After many years of use 'O Promise Me' still retains its place in the popular affections, as was demonstrated in the repeated encores demanded for it when it was interpolated in a recent revival of 'Robin Hood.' De Koven's lyricism, however, is of the lightest order and his failure to strike a deeper vein is well attested in the empty pomposity of his setting of Kipling's 'Recessional.'

A composer to whose songs Henry T. Finck in his 'Songs and Song Writers' gives a special place is Clayton Johns, of Boston (born 1857), who was a pupil of Paine and later studied two years at Berlin. Johns' songs number about one hundred. Mr. Finck finds in them a Franz-like quality and attributes their popularity to a simplicity without emptiness. Besides songs, Mr. Johns has written a few choruses and two pieces for string orchestra.

Frederick Field Bullard is another composer who wisely realized the natural limitations of his muse and devoted himself almost exclusively to song writing. His most successful song was his stirring and widely popular 'Stein Song,' which by its frequent use on all sorts of occasions has attached to itself somewhat the importance of a national song. Bullard's larger ambitions found expression in the ballad form, which he chose for a setting of Tennyson's melodrama 'The Sisters.'

W. H. Neidlinger (born in 1863) was a pupil of Dudley[Pg 354] Buck. His long list of compositions comprises almost exclusively songs. The instinctive naïveté of Mr. Neidlinger's style has contributed to his success in a number of children's songs.

Of a larger mold and a more intensive beauty is the lyricism of Marcus Carroll, a composer Irish born but whose entire musical life has been spent in, and belongs to, America. Mr. Carroll's works include several short pieces for orchestra. There is an 'Intermezzo' of melodic and colorful beauty which was played by Anton Seidl, while a 'Dance of the Gnomes' and a 'Valse' have been often heard at the 'pop' concerts in Boston. Besides these there is a 'Romance' for 'cello and orchestra and some part-songs of which the charming cycle of songs for women's voices from Stevenson's 'Child's Garden of Verses,' entitled 'A Child's Day,' have been much sung. Mr. Carroll shows himself in these works to be a most gifted melodist. His style is sincere, straightforward, at times conventional, but there are a warmth of feeling and an abundance of color, grace, and vitality which render his work notably successful.

Another foreign-born composer who must be counted in the list of Americans is Edward Manning. Mr. Manning was born in Canada, but came early in life to New York where he studied with MacDowell. The greater part of Mr. Manning's compositions are songs, although there has lately come from his pen a trio for strings and piano which must take rank with the very best of American chamber music. Another larger work of Manning's is an aria, 'The Tryst,' for soprano and orchestra, which has been sung by Louise Homer. Manning has the essential and rare equipment of the real composer, the melodic gift. There is a strong Grieg flavor in his melodies and often in his harmonic treatment of them, but later songs show a tendency to a more advanced modernity.

Frank LaForge follows narrowly the path of the[Pg 355] German lied composers. With no decided originalities, Mr. LaForge has written many highly artistic songs which often find place in song recital programs, especially in those of Mme. Gadski.

The name of Charles B. Hawley is one that for many years has figured largely on American singers' programs. Mr. Hawley has a true melodic vein which runs freely through a large number of songs. His harmonic treatment is, on the other hand, of the most conventional and there is nothing in his works to court criticism of an intimate order. Mr. Hawley in these characteristics stands as typical of quite a large group of American song writers. These composers write fluently, melodically, gracefully, and occasionally attain to a commanding lyrical eloquence, but for the greater part their work lacks distinction and flavor. Always too conventional, sometimes to a point of banality, it cannot contribute much to the upbuilding of a serious art in this country. The group thus described contains such writers as Victor Harris, C. W. Coombs, R. Huntington Woodman, Charles Gilbert Spross, James H. Rogers, Bruno Huhn, James W. Metcalfe, Ward Stephens, William G. Hammond, Franklin Riker, Oley Speaks, Jessie Gaynor, and Edna R. Parks.

V

America's contribution to church music has been large and varied. As chamber music seems to serve as the practice field for German composers, so does church music apparently occupy the less aspiring or intense moments of most of our writers. Composers of all classes and leanings have offered their share to the constantly increasing list of anthems and services to be found in the catalogues of our publishers and there seems to be, moreover, a legion whose entire efforts[Pg 356] are in this field. As a whole this music may be classified like the music of other departments: a comparatively small percentage of it is good, much is mediocre, while the vast balance is worthless. The meritorious section of this work subdivides itself into several kinds of excellence. We have among our church musicians a certain few who write the sober and so-called ecclesiastical style which the canons of the English schools have laid down as being the fitting adjunct of the church's service, while, again, particularly in America, a large amount of church music is couched in an idiom somewhat more secular in tone, in which a more popular melodic treatment lends so-called 'human interest' to the work. To the more ascetic this form of writing is the bane of church music. Gounod is perhaps the instigator of this practice of importing into the church the profane sensuousness of a more worldly art. Despite a strong note of reactionary protest, he has had many imitators both in England and America, and the 'operatic' anthem has become a standard form. Of these two classes of church music, namely, the essentially sacred and that more secularly tinged, it is the latter that is abused in American church music. Whereas in England the great respect for tradition keeps most of her church composers within the narrow paths of ecclesiastical austerity—where, it must be said, they often become contrapuntally arid or musty—the American anthem writer too often sins on the other side and has a strong tendency to become sentimentally maudlin in accepting as a working rule Voltaire's keen definition of church music as 'the pursuit of sensuous pleasure in the duties of a cult established to combat such a pursuit.'

Many of the composers whose works have been the subject of the foregoing pages have written for the church, and in some cases their church music represents an important phase of their work. We have[Pg 357] already spoken of Mr. Buck's importance as a church composer; other earlier composers whose church music was important are G. W. Marston, who wrote many anthems and sacred songs; W. W. Gilchrist, whose list of anthems and church cantatas is a long one; C. C. Converse, who, besides essaying a vast deal of serious music in a larger way, found his best success in several well-known hymns. Richard Henry Warren, Remington R. Fairlamb, and Smith N. Penfield are also names that have figured in the recent decades of ecclesiastical composition.

Horatio Parker, whose works we have already reviewed, is at present the most representative church composer in America. Parker has devoted some of his best inspirations to the church and has written many fine anthems and services, while his stirring hymn-tunes, with their modern harmonies, mark a real stage of evolution in that restricted field. Foote and Chadwick have both done much in church music; there is, however, a neutral quality about their anthems and they possess neither the distinctive qualities of the purely ecclesiastical style nor that of the popular anthem. Arthur Whiting has written comparatively little church music but the few things that he has done are among the best of all American church music. There is a feeling of great strength and solidity in Mr. Whiting's vocal writing and his style is always pure. The other church composers who generally follow the more severe style are mostly members of America's English colony of organists, true to the tradition of their training: Will C. Macfarlane, Clement R. Gale, T. Tertius Noble, are to be named as some of the best known of these writers.

It is most fortunate that the more popular style of anthem has one exponent who brings to it not only its essential elements of popularity, but who is able to add as well those sterling qualities of intrinsic musical[Pg 358] worth which place his anthems in a unique class. This writer is Harry Rowe Shelley. Shelley was born in 1858. His first studies were under Dudley Buck and he later studied with Dvořák in Europe. His list of about fifty anthems are deservedly the most popular of native works used in American churches to-day, and his sacred songs are also a most serviceable addition to the church répertoire. It must be added that, although Mr. Shelley has found his truest mission in church music, he has had larger ambitions which he has not entirely failed in fulfilling, and the list of his works includes an opera, 'Leila,' a symphonic poem, 'The Crusaders,' a dramatic overture, Francesca da Rimini, an oratorio, 'The Inheritance Divine,' a suite for orchestra, a fantasia for piano and orchestra, piano pieces and songs.

Among those whose work follows lines similar to that of Shelley is P. J. Schnecker, whose numerous anthems possess somewhat the physiognomy of Shelley's works, but are without their genuine musical qualities. John Hyatt Brewer has written church music of considerable distinction as well as several cantatas both sacred and secular. Brewer was a pupil of Buck and was born in 1856. Sumner Salter, Gerrit Smith, Louis R. Dressler, Frank N. Shepherd, Fred Schelling, are other names familiar to the choir loft. Important among church compositions are the works of Eduardo Marzo. Mr. Marzo's work is mostly for the Catholic service and, thus restricted in its use, it has not come to the general notice which it would otherwise have reached.

In concluding, we add a few names of those who, among the younger men, are producing church music of a freshness and vigor which promises well for a renaissance of sacred music that shall happily combine the dignity of the older schools with the more vital utterance of a contemporaneous expression.[Pg 359] Frank E. Ward, whose secular compositions find mention in another chapter of this volume, has written many good anthems and two sacred cantatas. Philip James is the author of some strikingly good church music, while Mark Andrews, Clifford Demarest, Caryl Florio, and W. Berwald are well-known and esteemed names to those who follow the lists of standard church music.

B. L.

CHAPTER XIII
ROMANTICISTS AND NEO-CLASSICISTS

Between the founders of musical composition in America, who felt chiefly the influence of that musical world of which Beethoven was the great central figure, and those who have looked to aboriginal and other native sources for inspiration on the one hand, or European ultra-modern tendencies on the other, there exists a large and important group of American composers whose artistic origin is to be associated with the so-called 'romantic' school, of which Schumann is the generally accepted protagonist. Proudly as the dramatic phase of the romantic movement shone forth at the same time in the genius of Richard Wagner, it was left with the non-dramatic wing of the romantic school to establish the ideals which should dominate and direct the romantic movement which was subsequently to arise in America. There are a number of reasons why this should have been the case, as there are also reasons to believe that the full influence of Wagner's ideas has not yet been felt in America. In the first place, it was during the epoch of the romantic movement that the German musician and music teacher first began to look to the new world as a field for the broad extension of his labors. Every city and[Pg 361] town of America came to have its German music teachers; they were accepted everywhere as representatives of the highest musical civilization of the world, and it is, in fact, to this early German musical emigration that the substantial foundations of our American musical education are due. As qualifying factors, however, in the influence which he was to exert upon the future, there were two facts in general which characterized him: his profession, which was usually that of pianist and piano teacher, and his anathematization of Wagner. While Beethoven was his musical god, in his capacity of pianist he also spread the influence of that side of the romantic movement which perpetuated, and developed, the tradition of piano music. Thus Schumann and Chopin, and their contemporaries, came to a measurable fullness of appreciation in America at a time when Wagner was held to be a mad and dangerous musical anarchist.

Quite aside from this group of circumstances, it was also true that nothing could be more remote from the American civilization of the time than the possibility of any semblance of the realization of Wagner's ideals. Opera was the most fitful and exotic of institutions, and the theatre in general, except for such occasional meteoric apparitions as Edwin Booth, was in a condition of the greatest crudity, as well as being under the ban of a puritanism which, fortunately, in these latter days, is beginning somewhat to relax its tenacity. Because of the unripeness of American life for a creative art of music, the influence of the early German invasion did not produce many composers. It had, however, implanted ideals which were to assume the greatest importance in the future. When the overwhelming Wagnerian flood at last arrived, in the splendid productions of the music-dramas under the direction of Seidl and the Damrosches, it found the ideals of the classical and romantic schools already well implanted;[Pg 362] more than that, it found a rapidly increasing group of young composers who had arisen under the influence of those ideals. The result was that these composers, who did not share the prejudices of their Teutonic musical forbears, drank in with avidity the wonderful new harmonies of Wagner, and set about incorporating them, not in music-dramas, but in the sonatas and symphonies arising from the classical tradition, and all manner of free forms to which the romantic school had given birth. The Wagnerian harmonies were accepted, but the forms of the earlier movements were retained, except where the followers of Liszt ventured forth on scantily charted seas of formal emancipation. Similarly other new influences began to be felt, and Tschaikowsky, in a new symphonic emotionalism, and Brahms, in a new flowering of thematic development, gave encouragement in the retaining of earlier forms. The dual product of these various influences was, on the one hand, a romanticism which claimed both harmonic and formal freedom, and a neo-classicism which welcomed the new harmonic world opened up by Wagner, but inclined to cling to the forms of the classical epoch.

I

As the first modern American composer to step forth with a highly characterized poetic individuality, Edward Alexander MacDowell (b. 1861, d. 1908) quickly took, and his work has held, since his untimely death in 1908, a unique and preëminent place in American music. As the first great pioneer of the romantic school in America his place is certainly assured, and, while the perspective thus far gained upon his work has by no means led to a unanimity of opinion concerning it, the dignity, charm, and poetic fancy of a great part[Pg 363] of it must assuredly give it an enduring position in the musical world. All barriers of adverse criticism and opinion fall before creativeness, to the extent to which it is truly creative, and it is the creative character of MacDowell's music that insures its persistence. Noteworthy is it also that it is through his greatest works, such as the second piano concerto and the Celtic Sonata, that his fame chiefly endures, a convincing evidence that his highest aspirations did not strike wide of their mark.

An inquiry into the nature of MacDowell's genius must perforce lead us to a recognition of his Celtic antecedents and sympathies; for with all his early German experience and training, with all his substantial Teutonic technical foundation gained thereby, he was first and last a Celt in spirit. Over the heavy bog of German harmony and counterpoint his sensitive fancy danced like restless thistledown, following the lightest whimsey of the breeze and the most tremulous maneuverings of shadow-play. In his more powerful tone painting it is the elements, rather than the passions, that command him. The old nature-worship which is so ineradicable an element of the psychic constitution of the Celt, and which leads him to commune with the innumerable and elusive hosts of the land of faery, never forsook the soul of MacDowell, or ceased to direct the course of his genius. Impatient of the restraints of the outer world, and of its weight of poetry-quenching affairs and transactions, his spirit hurried ever to a communion with the moods and mysteries of nature, and to that corresponding dream-world of intensified nature-perceptions within the soul to which these are the appointed and the alluring gateway. MacDowell's dream-world was directly conjoined with that of 'Fiona Macleod,' whose subjective nature-pictures offer a close literary parallel to the tone-pictures of the composer. These two traversed[Pg 364] the same region, which is that of the psychic perceptions, but the account of it brought back by MacDowell presents one striking fundamental difference from all accounts rendered by poetry-making Celts who have remained upon their native soil. In the American the soul no longer cries out from under an age-long burden of poverty and oppression; the heartache and the world-weariness have been sloughed off in the new-world birth. No outcry of the heart is the music of MacDowell, but an eager self-surrendering to the interpretation of the facts and moods of nature, the rocking of a lily-pad on cool waters, the lonely drift of an iridescent iceberg, the mad sudden impact of a hurrying gust. Often are these interpretations of an almost uncanny intimacy, so subtle and sensitive is their touch.

In one very important respect the personal analogy between MacDowell and William Sharp breaks down. The creator of 'Fiona Macleod' gained the freedom of the psychic world only at the expense of his virility. The man, Sharp, was left behind, when 'Fiona's' turn came, a fact attested by the writings of the latter at every point. MacDowell found no need for the splitting up of his personality into its masculine and feminine elements; he carried his manhood with him into the sphere of the psychic and brought forth not artistic shadowings merely, but also, especially in his heroic moments, solid structures. For all his instinctive abhorrence of the ponderousness often associated with the expression of the Teutonic spirit, his severe Frankfort training often served him in good stead; it may, indeed, have been the balance-wheel of his entire artistic life.

Too much the child of nature's dream-world to sound the depths of passion, too restless with the joy of nature's kaleidoscopic shift and play to touch the spiritual heights of peace, well severed from the material[Pg 365] world, but not yet united with the spiritual, MacDowell hovered in the mid-region of the psychic, happily lost in its shadowy wonderworld of dissolving forms and elusive beauty. This was at once the limitation and tragedy, as well as the genius, of MacDowell's life and art. He remained a wanderer on the borderlands of spirit, never coming to his spiritual home, and at the end his mind itself wandered never to return in this life. But he had struck a telling blow for American musical art, and placed the nation upon a new musical footing.

MacDowell was a nationalist only by virtue of his instinctive sensitiveness to his environment. As the English critic, Ashton-Johnson, has pointed out, his autumn scenes spontaneously portray not the mere brown decay of the European "fall," but the golden splendor of the American autumn. The Indian and the negro find their way into his works here and there in delicate touches, because the tradition of them is in the American air and scarcely to be avoided.

MacDowell's teachers in theory were Savard, at the Paris Conservatoire, and Joachim Raff, in Frankfurt, and in piano, at these places respectively, Marmontel and Heyman. An interim was spent with Ehlert in Wiesbaden. Franz Liszt was MacDowell's friend and helped him to recognition in Germany. No American composer has been so prominent as MacDowell as a concert pianist. His sensitive performances of his own works served to make them broadly known and to establish the traditions of their interpretation. The composer took up his residence in America again in 1888, after twelve years of absence, first in Boston, and later in New York, where, until his unfortunate friction with the academic authorities, he exerted a wide influence as professor of music at Columbia University. The malady which alienated him from his powers in his last years, and which finally brought about his end,[Pg 366] called universal attention to America's musical awakening and prowess by the same stroke in which it removed the nation's musical leader.

MacDowell attained his chief critical recognition through his two concertos and four sonatas for piano. The second concerto, in D minor, with its alternate phases of nobility and charm, stands as a monument to the composer's highest powers, with regard both to pianistic and orchestral mediums of expression. The composer's harmonic warmth and individuality, his freshness of melodic inspiration, his marked capacity for skillful and colorful orchestration, his eager and highly pitched temperament, are all manifest throughout the work. Of the four sonatas, the 'Tragica,' 'Eroica,' 'Norse,' and 'Keltic,' the last has been universally judged the greatest, and one of his greatest works. Lawrence Gilman calls it his 'masterpiece.' As their titles indicate, these works are all programmatic, though not slavishly so, and romantic in the highest degree. Their material, derived from the rich storehouse of Gaelic legend, finds the composer on his native spiritual heath, and in them he speaks with an authority not surpassed, perhaps not equalled, in the whole range of his work beside.

The 'Indian Suite' (opus 48) has been the most frequently heard of MacDowell's orchestral works, which have, as a class, been somewhat overshadowed by the piano compositions. In it the composer has touched but lightly upon his Indian thematic sources, building from his own fertile imagination a work of substantial character in five movements, depicting his conception of various phases of Indian life. The fourth movement, a dirge, has won great favor through its sheer imaginative beauty, but the work as a whole has not proved wholly convincing, and is far less true to the Indian than the sonatas are to the Gaelic genius. It represents, however, a matured mastery of orchestration[Pg 367] and the formal presentation of ideas. An earlier orchestral suite (opus 42) is a less notable work, reflecting the influence of Raff, and is seldom heard. 'The Saracens' and 'The Lovely Alda,' two colorful orchestral fragments from a once-projected 'Roland' symphony, are not infrequently heard, and with pleasure, but, while characteristic of the composer's genius, are scarcely representative of it. An earlier 'Hamlet and Ophelia' overture has fared rather less well.

In a great number of little piano compositions, grouped under various titles, MacDowell has left an exquisite and extensive legacy of works which mirror forth the world of multitudinous fancy which he delighted to haunt. Not conceived with the view of displaying modern concert technique, but in a vein of sincere and intimate poetic expression, these works have been cherished and enjoyed wherever the piano is played. Reflecting more particularly the earlier phases of the composer's artistic sympathies are two suites (opera 10 and 14), 'Forest Idyls' (opus 19), 'Six Idyls' (opus 28), 'Four Little Poems' (opus 32), 'Marionettes' (opus 38), and 'Twelve Studies' (opus 39). The works in this form by which MacDowell has chiefly endeared himself to the rank and file of American music-lovers, are 'Woodland Sketches' (opus 51), containing 'To a Wild Rose' and 'To a Water Lily;' 'Sea Pieces' (opus 55); 'Fireside Tales' (opus 61), and 'New England Idyls' (opus 62), the last work of the composer.

By no means the least of MacDowell's contributions to musical literature, either in quantity or quality, are his songs, of which there are some ten groups for solo voice, and various part songs, chiefly for male voices. In the spheres of charm, fancy, and 'atmospheric' intuition these undoubtedly hold a very high place, though in respect to passion and imaginative vigor the same can scarcely be said, despite the claims of[Pg 368] Henry T. Finck, who places MacDowell with the highest rank of the world's song-writers. The highest type of song-writing would seem to demand not so much a passion for beauty as a passion for passion itself, either physical or spiritual, and such a quality, while not absent from it, was not central to the ethereal character of MacDowell's genius.

Lawrence Gilman's 'Edward MacDowell' presents a sympathetic and illuminating study of the composer and his work.

II

One of the rocks upon which the high character of modern American music is founded is the art-activity of Edgar Stillman-Kelley (b. April 14, 1857). While he has not given forth his compositions in rapid succession or in great quantity, he has, nevertheless, struck a series of telling blows for the honor and dignity of creative musical art in America. Especially is this true in view of the fact that he has formulated, maintained and promulgated definite ideals of music throughout a period which has been characterized mainly, in this respect, by confusion and groping, and, too frequently, even by grovelling. In a post-Wagnerian period in which vacillation, obscurity, and disorder have reigned throughout a large part of the musical world, he has steadily advanced the standard of lucidity, order, and faith. Lofty in imagination, of a high sense of beauty, and at the same time exceptional in scholarship and breadth of intellectual vision, he combines qualities which must necessarily single him out as a leader of importance in the musical movement to which America has given birth. The same qualities have also fitted him to exercise a beneficent influence, in certain directions, upon more recent and newly appearing phases of native musical evolution. It has[Pg 369] been Stillman-Kelley's fate that both his name and his influence have outdistanced the general knowledge of his works. Two circumstances may be held accountable for this: the fact that he has given out no quantity of works in small forms through which his music might become accessible to music-lovers everywhere through the universal medium of the piano, and the further fact that it is particularly in just such forms as Stillman-Kelley has produced that, as a nation, we are slow in giving our own composers a wide hearing. The American symphony, on American programs, must wait, first, and perhaps rightfully, upon the classics, and, second, and often with bitter wrong, upon the sensational European novelties of the hour.

So independent and individual a thinker is Stillman-Kelley, so sui generis his work, that it can be explained by no theory of particular or individual influences, but only by a knowledge of the composer's broad survey of the modern field, with emphasis, to be sure, upon the greatest in Germanic tradition. The fundamentals of that tradition one feels the composer to have grasped, but of the principles thus deeply assimilated he makes his own use. In short, he follows principles, and not men, and for this reason the Wagnerian 'passage,' the Tschaikowskian phrase, which drip so easily from the pen of many latter-day composers, are never to be encountered in Stillman-Kelley's music. Into this technique, acquired through close observation and analysis of the works of the masters, the composer imports his own spirit; he has his own story to tell and is very certain of the manner in which he wishes to tell it. The superficial criticism of the day, which looks for raw and sensational departures from the pre-Debussyian musical scheme, will find Stillman-Kelley conservative, at moments even downright Teutonic; but the gulf which separates him, in spirit and message, from both his precursors and contemporaries,[Pg 370] European and American, must be plain to every observant person. In this rapid age people are, however, not apt to be closely observant, and it appears that there will still be a considerable interval before Stillman-Kelley's true artistic and intellectual stature will be recognized.

To grasp the nature of the high distinction which must be accorded him, it must be understood that Stillman-Kelley's formative period was that very epoch of the Wagnerian cataclysm which blasted the individuality of composers as the cyclone devastates the forest. So surcharged with the dominating personality of Wagner was this epoch that it seemed no composer sympathetic to that personality could breathe the air of its period and retain his musical individuality. Futile blotches of misunderstood Wagnerian harmony took the place of compositions. This was the tide that Stillman-Kelley stemmed, and his position takes on the aspect of solitary grandeur when it is perceived that he is the only composer in the contemporary American ranks, receptive to the changing order, who can be said to have come through wholly unscathed. While guided primarily by a sense of the beautiful, it was through sheer force of mentality, and standing alone, that the composer achieved this feat and preserved for his nation a straight path for the classical tradition and ideal without relinquishing that freedom of mind which alone can secure the growth of the individual through the apprehension and application of contemporary thought.

The thought can almost be ventured that Stillman-Kelley was the first composer to use the post-Wagnerian harmonic vocabulary without the result sounding like Wagner. If a heroic instinct for thematic development in the face of the harmonic orgies of the time contributed to this achievement, it was secondary to a contribution of even greater distinction. This more[Pg 371] original contribution may be termed the application of a geometrical poetic sense to the new harmony. Of the tyrant that enslaved the composers of the time Stillman-Kelley promptly made himself the master. Out of the new material he generated for his use harmonic motives, symmetrical blocks of harmony, bearing a particular relation to his thematic material, and, by the application of these well-defined and well-rounded harmonic motives to his formal structure, he attained, at a stroke, the employment of the new medium, the preservation of clarity and order, and thereto a new musical personality. He did not recede to an archaic classical purism and offer the familiar excuse of those who found in Wagner the ruination of pure music. He advanced bravely on to the dangerous ground of the new territory and made it his own without sacrificing the fundamental classical character of his ideals and without losing his wits.

Both in spirit and technique Stillman-Kelley's artistic personality may be seen in microcosmic scope, as it were, in his highly individual song, 'Israfel' to the poem of Edgar Allan Poe. Here are the serene beauty, the highly imaginative harmonic tinting, the touch of the fantastic, the formal amplitude and symmetry, the predominance of phantasy over passion, which characterize all of the composer's work. The companion song, 'Eldorado,' on Poe's poem of that name, is equally typical of the composer's genius, though strongly contrasted with 'Israfel' in subject.

Stillman-Kelley first became known through his intensely characteristic and 'atmospheric' music for 'Macbeth,' dating from early days in San Francisco. This he has in later years revised and cast in the form of an orchestral suite, composing for the play a wholly new overture of momentous proportions. This is a massive and sombre work, dealing with the conflict of conscience and evil ambition, its murky content being[Pg 372] relieved only by the introduction of a theme of the joys of Gaelic royalty, which later on assumes a grim aspect, being stated in conjunction with the theme of ambition.

The 'Aladdin' suite has perhaps been less infrequently heard than Stillman-Kelley's other orchestral works. In this work the composer availed himself of certain Chinese themes, of which he made a characteristically thorough study while in San Francisco (and which resulted also in his widely known song 'The Lady Picking Mulberries'). This suite is in the composer's most genial vein and is a tour de force of piquant orchestration. Its movements depict 'The Wedding of Aladdin and the Princess,' 'A Serenade in the Royal Pear Garden,' 'Flight of the Genie with the Palace,' and 'The Return and Feast of the Lanterns.'

Stillman-Kelley's greatest recent offering is his 'New England' symphony, in B minor, produced by the Litchfield County Choral Union, at Norfolk, Conn., June 3, 1913. In it the composer has sought to embody 'something of the experiences, ambitions, and aspirations of our Puritan ancestors.' It was greeted as a work of large importance, needing further hearing for its full appreciation. The composer has completed sketches of a 'Gulliver' symphony and an 'Alice in Wonderland' suite, the subjects of both of which attest his love of the fantastic and call attention to his equal devotion to the element of humor. There is an orchestral score of 'Israfel.'

In chamber music form he has produced a quintet for strings and piano which has had much success on both sides of the Atlantic, and a less well-known string quartet in variation form. There are also a few early songs and piano compositions. Mention should be made of the composer's very successful and famous music for the dramatic presentation of 'Ben Hur,' and the exquisite 'Song of Iras' taken from it.

[Pg 373]

Born in Wisconsin, Mr. Stillman-Kelley has lived successively in Stuttgart, San Francisco, New York, New Haven (where he occupied the chair of music at Yale University during a year's absence of Horatio Parker), and Berlin. He now (1914) holds a 'composer's fellowship' at Western College, Oxford, Ohio, giving lectures there and at the Cincinnati conservatory. His chief teacher in theory was Seifriz, in Stuttgart.

III

Among the most earnest and advanced leaders of American music stands Arne Oldberg (b. 1874), a musical personality of the highest nobility and idealism, and a consummate master of his art. Unquestionably as fully equipped master of thematic development in the cyclic forms as America has produced, his loftily conceived chamber music and orchestral works present themselves in a spiritual and technical serenity, artistic authenticity and completeness, which baffle the critical beholder. Indeed, it is with the music-makers who wrote before relentless Beethoven forced the skyey goddess down into the world-struggle that Oldberg has the closest spiritual kinship. Never since Mozart has music been more bafflingly 'absolute' than in the bulk of his works in orchestral and chamber music, and piano forms. The appearance of these works, so modern from the standpoint of thematic and formal development in this epoch, seems to call for a revision of modern musical psychology and philosophy. Much of modern 'pure' music is too dramatic to endure a comparison in this respect, or else too philosophical and too deeply involved in the world-problem. To Brahms' technical system that of Oldberg more nearly corresponds than to any other.

In this music, at the same time, there is no reversion to the style of an earlier day; it carries no slogan of[Pg 374] 'back to Mozart.' Trained as he was in the severe school of Joseph Rheinberger, to Oldberg, to be sure, the modern French school does not exist, but neither, for that matter, does the traditional shadow of turgidity and heaviness which hangs about the Teutonic genius even at its most idealistic. Those who think to perceive a measure of old-fashionedness in his music are looking at the letter rather than the spirit, which is ever onward and creative, though in its own way, and without admitting that modern progress lies only in the adoption of the Gallic idiom. It is the music of spiritual upliftment and refreshment, waiting its day until sensationalism and mere color-riot shall have lost their power to appeal.

The two quintets for piano and strings (opera 16 and 24) present a joyous and upspringing lyricism all but unknown to the music of the day, together, especially in the latter and more mature work, with a thematic involution that would be appalling were it not for the exuberant spontaneity of their inspiration. A string quartet in C minor (opus 15) is a less complete revelation of the composer's powers. A woodwind quintet in E flat major (opus 18), on the other hand, is a miracle of gladness and of grave and haunting loveliness.

A symphony in F (opus 23), twice rewritten but not yet performed, contains a slow movement that represents the composer at his highest level of contemplative beauty. The overture 'Paolo and Francesca' (opus 21) marks a departure from his usual absolutism; it is a work of large dimensions and great warmth of feeling, and made a deep impression upon the listeners when performed by the Theodore Thomas Orchestra on January 17-18, 1908. The same orchestra has given performances of Oldberg's 'Academic Overture,' written for the Northwest University at Evanston, Ill., a 'Theme and Variations' (opus 19), and a set of[Pg 375] 'Symphonic Variations,' for organ and orchestra (opus 35), the variation form being one in the possibilities of which Oldberg has great faith. An almost uniform success has followed these various performances. A second symphony, in C minor (opus 34) has followed the first in F, and there is a recent 'Orchestral Rhapsody' (opus 36). An 'Arabesque' for piano (opus 31) shows the composer in a new vein. The admirable 'Symphonic' concerto for piano and orchestra (opus 17), and the horn concerto (opus 20), are almost entirely unknown. There are besides these works a considerable number of piano works, a sonata (opus 28) of great lyrical charm, a very extraordinary set of 'Thematic Variations,' a poetic and stirring 'Legend,' a set of three beautiful and highly interesting 'Miniatures,' and various other works.

Mr. Oldberg was born at Youngstown, Ohio, in 1874. He is of Norse extraction, being of the third generation on American soil, and holds the chair of music at the Northwestern University.

Much space would be required in which to give an adequate account of the creative activities of Henry Hadley (b. 1871), one of the most spontaneous and prolific of American composers, and one of the best known, at home and abroad.

By temperament and choice of subject matter Hadley places himself in the ranks of the romanticists, but his tenacious loyalty to the symphonic form, among a wide variety of other forms, bespeaks a neo-classical leaning and is scarcely to be explained by a mere desire to essay expression in all forms. Moreover, while in orchestral technique Hadley is a student and, in some sort, a disciple of Richard Strauss, unlike that composer he inclines, in his orchestral works other than symphonic, to the overture form rather than the less closely knit 'tone-poem.' In orchestral realism he follows[Pg 376] Strauss but a short way, eschewing violence and holding a rather unique middle course between realism and impressionism; something more than impressionist merely, a suggestive realist he might be termed.

Everywhere in Hadley's music is energy, fancy, the spirit of youth. It bubbles and glints, running an inexhaustible gamut of varying tints and ingenious and poetic tonal designs. It is the music of immense enjoyment of objective life, of actions, sights, emotions. Too eager and full of action to be deeply reflective, too happy to be philosophic, it is the part of Hadley's music to quicken the sense of life and of delight in the teeming visible world about us. Sombre, pensive, or bleak it may be at times, according to the composer's expressive need, but it is the tone-poet's fancy that decrees it, never a confession of Weltschmerz on the composer's part.

The first symphony, 'Youth and Life' (opus 25), is highly characteristic of the buoyancy, the nervous energy, and the imaginative fertility of the composer. The second, 'The Four Seasons' (opus 30), is a delicate balance, within the classical form, of romanticism, impressionism, and symbolism. It is romanticism that predominates, however, although such distinct impressions as those of wintry blasts and falling autumn leaves are happy and noteworthy features of the work. The languor and sun-warmed luxuriance of mid-summer finds poignant and beautiful expression. The third symphony, in B minor (opus 60), seems to be less well known than the others. The fourth symphony, 'North, East, South, West' (opus 64), was received with enthusiasm when produced under the direction of the composer at a meeting of the Litchfield County Choral Union, on June 6, 1911. Hadley indulges in a little aboriginal Americanism in the 'South' and 'West' movements, though his only definitely discernible 'nationalism' lies in his inherent temperamental[Pg 377] character. The four symphonies reveal a constantly progressive growth in modern harmonic vision and in orchestral mastery. The only American composer to enter the field of symphonic conducting as a profession, Hadley, in his technical development, has made the most of his contact with the orchestra.

There are three overtures, 'Hector and Andromache,' the jubilant 'In Bohemia,' and one of sombre character to Stephen Phillips' 'Herod.' A tone-poem, 'Salome,' finds him at his nearest to Strauss in ideals, even if not in style. His most recent orchestral work, produced in 1914, is entitled 'Lucifer.' From earlier days are several 'Ballet Suites,' an 'Oriental Suite' and a 'Symphonic Fantasie.' The still more recent 'Culprit Fay,' after Rodman Drake's poem, has won various and deserved honors. Hadley's one grand opera, 'Safie,' dating from his incumbency as opera conductor in Mainz, Germany, was produced there on April 4, 1909, but has not been heard in America. There are songs in great number and variety, several cantatas, a number of works in different small forms, and considerable church music.

Hadley is a native of Massachusetts, and comes of a musical family. Among his teachers are, first, his father, and later Chadwick in Boston and Mandyczewski in Vienna. He has several times been a prize-winner with his compositions, the second symphony winning the Paderewski Prize and one offered by the New England Conservatory, both in 1901, and the 'Culprit Fay' winning the National Federation of Musical Clubs' Prize in 1909. Mr. Hadley became conductor of the Seattle Symphony Orchestra in 1909 and the San Francisco Orchestra in 1911, which latter post he still holds.

One of the sturdiest musical figures in the ranks of American arrivés is Frederick Shepherd Converse[Pg 378] (b. 1871), artistically of strong romantic leanings, although brought up under the classic influences of the widely influential course in theory conducted by the late James K. Paine at Harvard University. A taker of honors here, as well as at Munich under Rheinberger, where he went after a period of study with Chadwick in Boston, Converse has realized a degree of scholarship seldom attained or even aspired to in America. He is typically representative of what might be called the second generation of modern American composers, the one following immediately upon that of Foote, Chadwick, and their colleagues. Like all the active minds of his generation, he exhibits the tendency to break the shackles of classical tradition while still preserving reverence for its ideals. With the exception of one retrospective inspiration, the string quartet (opus 18), he appears to be done with the sonata form at about the eighth opus number. Previous to that he had produced a symphony in D minor (opus 7), a sonata for violin (opus 1), a string quartet, and an overture. The later string quartet has qualities of admirable lyrical beauty.

It is in his large romantic outreachings that Converse is best and most favorably known. Indeed, the composer himself styles his first orchestral tone-poem, the 'Festival of Pan,' a 'romance.' Subsequent orchestral works in so-called 'free' form (an absurd term, since every authentic form gains its strength through conformity to some law, even if not a familiar one) are 'Endymion's Vision,' a bit too 'free' in form but of rich and imaginative orchestral color, and, better known and more highly appraised, 'The Mystic Trumpeter,' after Walt Whitman. 'Night' and 'Day,' two poems for piano and orchestra, and La Belle Dame Sans Merci, ballade for baritone and orchestra, as well as the orchestral works mentioned, have all been[Pg 379] produced by orchestras and artists of the first prominence and with marked success.

Mr. Converse has made two heroic ventures onto the still unwon but yielding field of American grand opera. 'The Pipe of Desire,' with text by George E. Barton, a one-act opera, is in mood a reflection from the poets of the Celtic twilight. It was given a special production of three performances in Boston, in 1906, and experienced a brief revival, in March, 1910, at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York, and in the following January in Boston. A second opera, in three acts, 'The Sacrifice,' dealing with a romantic Spanish-Californian subject, is regarded as showing a marked advance in operatic style. It was produced by the Boston Opera Company in March, 1911, with a measure of success, but the scope of its bearings has not yet been extended. Mr. Converse's most recent large work was the composition of the music for the 'Pageant and Masque of St. Louis,' May 28-31, 1914, a broad and vigorous piece of writing. In general, his music is of strong fibre, harmoniously and melodically and warm in color, though his style has not yet broken wholly away from its academic moorings. For several years after 1902 he served as instructor and professor in the musical department of Harvard University.

IV

A very substantial and influential personality in American musical life is that of Ernest R. Kroeger, who was born in St. Louis, Mo., August 10, 1862, and whose activities have ever since been identified with that city. The list of his published compositions is enormous and comprises works in many forms. As is the case with most American composers, his orchestral[Pg 380] and chamber music works remain in manuscript, and consist of three 'symphonic overtures,' 'Sardanapalus,' 'Hiawatha,' and 'Atala,' the first Oriental in character, the two latter Indian, overtures on the subjects of 'Thanatopsis' and 'Endymion,' a 'Lalla Rookh' suite, two string quartets, and, for piano with strings, a trio, quartet, and quintet.

Despite Kroeger's scholarly handling of the sonata and fugue forms his tendency is strongly romantic, as is indicated by the subjects not only of his overtures but of the great number of his piano works, which touch a whole world of romance from Greek mythology to Indian and negro folk-lore. Among his more representative piano works are '12 Concert Études' (opus 30), a suite (opus 33), four 'sonnets' (opus 36), Sonata in D flat (opus 40), Prelude and Fugue in B flat minor (opus 41), 'Mythological Scenes' (opus 46), ten 'American Character Sketches' (opus 53), and twenty 'Moods' (opus 60). Widely known as a writer of songs of much poetic charm and appeal, his best works in this form are the 'Persian Love Song' (from opus 43), the famous 'Bend Low, O Dusky Night' (from opus 48), Ten Songs (opus 65), and a song cycle, 'Memory' (opus 66). He has written much for the organ, and there is a sonata for violin and piano (opus 32), also a recent large work for recitation or action, 'The Masque of Dead Florentines' (opus 75), on Maurice Hewlett's poem. In style Kroeger leans strongly upon the German tradition, but is fond of writing in an Oriental vein. He has held many positions of responsibility, among them being the presidency of the Music Teachers' National Association, and the important post of Master of Programs at the St. Louis World's Fair, which service won him an office in the French Academy. His influence has been far-reaching in the musical upbuilding of the Middle West.

[Pg 381]

Leaning somewhat more heavily upon the classic than the romantic aspects of German tradition, the work of Rubin Goldmark (b. 1872) makes serious claim to a place of high regard in the field of American music. While having had the advantages of European study, Goldmark also reflects a measure of the considerable influence exerted by Dvořák upon composition in America, having been one of those under the guidance of the Bohemian composer during his period of teaching in New York. In so far as this influence is discernible in one of Goldmark's well-defined musical personality, it is to be sought in the general nature of his musical ideals, and only very slightly in the specific Americanism encouraged by Dvořák (1841-1904). A firm emotional texture, gained by warmth of both harmony and melody, and a virility arising from a marked rhythmic sense characterize Goldmark's music. His creative impulse is guided more by emotional sincerity and verity than by the element of charm, though it is not without moments of tender and limpid beauty.

His trio for piano, violin and 'cello is an exceptionally substantial opus 1, and his 'Hiawatha' overture won enthusiastic praise from no less discerning a critic than James Huneker. Among his earlier works are a sonata for piano and violin, a 'Romanza' for 'cello, and a number of piano compositions and songs, the latter especially revealing an imagination of distinctive character. An 'Ode to Colorado' for mixed voices issues from the composer's occasional residence in Colorado Springs, as also four 'Prairie Idylls' for piano. From Goldmark's maturer powers springs the quartet in A major, for piano and strings, which, in its class, won the Paderewski Prize in 1909, the poetic merits of the work being revealed in a subsequent performance by the Kneisel Quartet. The impressive and[Pg 382] highly-appraised tone-poem 'Samson' was produced by the Boston Symphony Orchestra in March, 1914.

One of the first of the post-Chadwickian generation of American composers to step into prominence was Howard Brockway (b. 1870), who received a very thorough training under the American O. B. Boise in Berlin. He brought back, among other large works, a symphony which he had composed at the age of twenty-four and which had called much attention to his gifts and potential career when performed at a concert of his works in Berlin. Walter Damrosch once said, 'The trouble with American composers is they write one symphony when they come back from Europe and then do nothing more.' A significant half-truth is contained in the remark. The classical musical education requires, tacitly or otherwise, the symphonic effort. Then come the American environment and the dampening absence of a market for symphonies by Young (and Old) America; then the writing of songs in order to find a way to a hearing; and then, if the composer is to belie the Damroschian dictum, a gradual artistic resurrection harmonious with American institutions, purposes, and ideals.

Brockway did, in fact, give out a quantity of small works, songs and piano compositions, on his return to America, all of which, it may be said, reveal a sensitive and truly poetic musical nature, capable of lifting itself well up through the dense and earthy atmosphere of technique into the realm of poetic perception and expression. The outcome of his return to large forms it is a bit early to predict. The knowledge of a manuscript quintet for strings and piano, and a piano concerto, under his highest opus numbers, 36 and 37, adumbrates an auspicious future for his expression in large forms. Meanwhile a suite for 'cello and piano (opus 35) has been given out, and an admirable[Pg 383] cantata, 'Sir Olaf,' has been heard. From his earlier portfolio credit is to be given him for the beautiful violin sonata (opus 9) and the significant 'Ballade' and 'Sylvan Suite' (op. 11 and 19), both for orchestra.

An extraordinarily prolific composer is Homer N. Bartlett (1845-1911), the separation of whose more distinguished works from the mass that he has written will be effected only by the sifting process of time. From the Salonstück period of his 'outrageously' popular 'Grand Polka de Concert' (opus 1), through the ambitious violin concerto (opus 109), which was entirely rewritten in 1908, and the symphonic poem 'Apollo' from the same period, to the works bearing the Himalayan opus numbers 215 and 220, a 'Meditation' and an Air à la Bourrée for violin, is a far cry. In providing a list of his works the composer writes at the end, 'opus numbers here increase to 231, although I am striving to keep them down.' This great output shows a steady increase in distinction, and covers a wide range of tendencies, almost wholly in the direction of romanticism.

'Khamsin,' which Hughes refers to as a fragment of a cantata, was rewritten in 1908 as an extended dramatic aria for tenor solo, in three connected parts. In its earlier form it was heard at a New York Manuscript Society concert, and is regarded as representative of the best and most dramatically inspired of Bartlett's work. Two movements of an ingeniously exotic 'Japanese Suite' for orchestra were heard at the Central Park orchestral concerts in 1910 and revealed a good control of orchestral resource. There are also clever piano compositions on Japanese themes, a Japanese 'Revery' and 'Romance' (opus 221), and 'Kuma Saka' (opus 218) for four hands. There are also an opera, 'La Vallière,' written in 1887, an operetta, 'Magic Hours' (opus 225), and many choruses, songs, piano[Pg 384] compositions, including a prize-winning nocturne ('Kranbach' prize), violin compositions, organ works, and songs. Bartlett was born in 1846 at Olive, N. Y., and has been active as a teacher and organist in New York City.

Mr. Rossetter G. Cole is best known as the composer of the melodrama 'King Robert of Sicily' (op. 22), to which David Bispham's stirring interpretation has brought great popularity. This work contains some of Mr. Cole's best inspirations; while adhering to idioms that are conventional, there is an admirable following of the dramatic line and a real atmospheric descriptiveness. It is harmonically conventional, at times markedly Wagnerian, and there are some excellent effects in ecclesiastical harmonies. In an earlier melodrama, 'Hiawatha's Wooing,' op. 20, Indian themes are utilized, though but slightly. Still earlier published works are 'The Passing of Summer,' a 'lyrical idyll' for soli, chorus and orchestra, while still in manuscript there is a sonata for violin and piano (op. 8), works which placed by the side of Mr. Cole's later compositions become comparatively unimportant. Of recent publication a 'Ballade' for cello and orchestra (op. 25) and two organ pieces, 'Fantasie Symphonique' (op. 28) and 'Rhapsody' (op. 30), are written for their respective instruments with a well-calculated effectiveness. One of Mr. Cole's recent compositions is a bit of descriptive piano writing entitled 'Sunset in the Hills.' This shows a considerably more advanced harmonic scheme and one much richer in color, which now fade into the more delicate tints of an idyllic MacDowell-like mood.

V

Generations of composers succeed each other quickly in America with, however, but the flimsiest of boundaries,[Pg 385] chronological and artistic. We now come to a group of composers, in general slightly younger than those already considered, who in the romantic and neo-classical fields may be regarded as 'runners up,' whose 'arrival' is well under way and who press hard for the highest rank and honors in their field in the national and even in the international musical life. No order of precedence will be attempted in making note of their achievements, as none has been made hitherto with a few exceptions in favor of seniority and fame.

One of the staunchest and most uncompromising upholders of a severe classical ideal is Daniel Gregory Mason (b. 1873). With sureness, if not over-rapidly, he has developed a mode of expression singularly lucid, symmetrical and thorough in its formal unfoldment. Thoughtful in the extreme, modest in the nature and statement of his themes, he seeks the source of power in completeness and symmetry of outline, in the bringing of his themes to the fullest and most rounded development, and in clarity of harmonic structure. Not even the strictest of classicists, in these days, can wholly escape the influence of the romantic epoch, and if a sympathy with the ideals of Schumann has in a measure qualified Mason's musical outlook in the first instance, it has yielded to a stronger leaning to the artistic creed of Brahms. Some of the composer's pages bear a marked Brahms-like aspect. These earlier influences have been broadened and enriched in Mason's later work by a studious devotion to the music of César Franck and of Vincent d'Indy, the composer having studied with the latter in 1902 and later. These latter influences have produced a very evident effect upon his harmonic scheme, which presents a conservative use and treatment of thoroughly modern resources, though with a characteristic avoidance of anything approaching to the harmonic sensationalism of much latter day music. In all ways, in fact, Mason's music is[Pg 386] a protest against the sensational tendency of the time.

The composer's most ambitious work is a symphony for grand orchestra (opus 11), in C minor, written in 1913-14. It is in four movements, the last two connected, without program, and is 'cyclic' in construction. Another important work is a quartet in A major (opus 7). The sonata for violin and piano (opus 5), in G minor, which has been widely performed, is thoroughly representative of the composer's ideals. The first movement, suave and musical, though not particularly striking in its themes, is in an extended sonata form, rather highly modernized with respect to secondary themes and transitional passages, and reveals much ingenuity in thematic variation and transformation. The warm melody of the second movement, andante tranquillo, is of memorable beauty. The last movement is in the nature of a spirited tarantella, with an admirably contrasted theme of choral-like character, an effect one may fancy to bear a slight analogy to the finale of Beethoven's Kreutzer Sonata.

An 'Elegy' (opus 2), in variation form, is wrought with technical nicety, but leans dubiously upon an ultra-conservative treatment. 'Country Pictures' (opus 9), six pieces for pianoforte, show much fancy and charm. No. 1, 'Cloud Pageant,' is colorful and pictorially suggestive, interesting in its thematic inversions, and develops massively. No. 2, 'Chimney Swallows,' is clever in motion, and particularly in its insistence on the interval of the 'second.' No. 4, 'The Whippoorwill,' is a charming piece of classical realism, and No. 5, 'The Quiet Hour,' comes as near to ultra-modernism as the composer ventures. Other works are: 'Five Children's Songs' (opus 1), with texts from Stevenson; 'Romance' and 'Impromptu' (opus 3), for pianoforte; a whimsical set of 'Variations on Yankee Doodle in the Styles of Various Composers'; 'Pastorale' for violin,[Pg 387] clarinet and piano (opus 8); and 'Passacaglia' (opus 10), for organ.

Mr. Mason is a native of Boston and a member of a famous family of musicians, being a grandson of Lowell Mason, and a nephew of Dr. William Mason. He is a graduate of Harvard, where some of his early musical studies were pursued under Paine. Since 19 he has held the associate professorship of music in Columbia University, and he has done much by lectures and literary work to promote musical appreciation. His 'From Grieg to Brahms' (1902) and its sequels have exerted a wide influence.

Emanating from strongly academic influences, David Stanley Smith (b. 1877), who has for a number of years been associated as assistant professor with the musical department of Yale University, exhibits a marked romantic tendency of imagination, albeit one exceptionally well guarded by a devotion to the structural ideals of the classic writers. The distinguished character of his talent has brought him rapidly to the front, and none of his more important works have had to wait long for a hearing. Smith places a strong insistence upon coherence in thematic development and tonality as the only basis upon which to found a musical work, and, while partial to high harmonic color and ready to depart from the text-books in harmonic usage, he is unwilling to allow color effect to usurp the place of structural continuity. Desirous and capable as he is of advancing upon the debatable borders of modern harmonic resource, he does not burn the bridges of conservatism behind him. His music bespeaks a sensitively poetic nature, sentiment, color and emotion rising easily through the foundational stratum of a thorough but not overweighted technique.

His symphony in F minor was performed by the Chicago Orchestra under Stock in December, 1912, and[Pg 388] was well received. It is thoroughly representative of the composer's blending of modern and classic ideals and methods. The quartet in E minor (opus 19), departing from earlier styles chiefly in rhythmic intricacy, has been played by the Kneisels in many cities. An 'Overture Joyeuse' (opus 11) was conducted by the composer at one of the Chickering production concerts in 1904; it finds the composer scarcely emancipated from academic trammels. This and a much later 'symphonic sketch,' 'Prince Hal,' have both been conducted by the composer with the New Haven Symphony Orchestra. A 'Symphonic Ballad' (opus 24) has been given with this orchestra, and also at the concerts of the St. Louis Symphony Orchestra. 'Pan,' a chorus for women's voices, on Elizabeth Barrett Browning's poem, with orchestra and Pan-pipe obbligato inevitably assigned to the oboe, has been widely heard, and is a work brimming with color and rhythm. 'The Wind-Swept Wheat' and 'The Dark' are also for women's chorus with orchestra. A mixed chorus with orchestra, 'The Fallen Star,' won the Paderewski Prize in 1909. A trio in G major (opus 16) and an orchestral 'Allegro Giocoso' have, like all the foregoing works, been publicly performed, as well as numerous anthems and songs. Smith was born in Ann Arbor, Mich., and educated at Yale.

A composer of the younger Boston group is Edward Burlingame Hill (b. in 1872), a music-maker of reflective temperament whose work, always refined and thoughtfully molded, inclines to tints and moods of delicate and subtle texture. His musical studies were conducted at Harvard University, under Professor Paine, but the music of MacDowell, then a resident of Boston, was the chief influencing factor in his earlier work. At this time he wrote several piano sonatas, one in F sharp, one in E after Kipling's 'The Light[Pg 389] that Failed,' and a 'Sonata Patriotica,' the title of the latter being far from an indication of any nationalistic tendency in his later work. These works have not been published. Under the same influence he wrote a number of short piano compositions and songs, among the former a set of 'Four Sketches after Stephen Crane', (opus 7), containing an engaging satirical pleasantry on the 'little devils grinning in sin,' and 'Country Idyls' (opus 10), exquisitely tinted and showing a quality of charm which is not the most prominent attribute of American music in general. The titles of some of the above-mentioned works reveal the composer's discriminating literary tastes, which are further borne out in the choice of the poems for his songs, among their authors being the names of Tennyson, Rossetti, Henley, Arthur Symons, Ambrosius, and Dowson. He has written many part-songs to Elizabethan words. A work of much more importance than any of the foregoing is 'The Nuns of the Perpetual Adoration' for chorus and orchestra (opus 15), on the poem by Dowson, which was performed at a concert of the Modern Music Society of New York in 1914, under the direction of Benjamin Lambord. It reveals refined musicianship of a high order and, rather dangerously for the maintenance of interest, though advantageously for an exhibition of the psychological penetration of the composer, sustains a peculiar mood of spiritual aloofness. A pantomime 'Jack Frost in Midsummer' (opus 16), which has been publicly performed, is one of the best of the later works of Hill, who is more distinguished in artistic personality than in the quality of being prolific. Another pantomime is 'Pan and the Star.' He has in manuscript an overture to 'She Stoops to Conquer,' and a set of variations for string quartet. Hill was comparatively early attracted to the modern French school and his later work has been strongly influenced by it, though not to the point of radical ultra-modernity.[Pg 390] This tendency is exhibited at its most advanced in the symphonic poem, 'The Parting of Launcelot and Guenevere,' after the poem by Stephen Phillips. As in 'Pan and the Star,' the composer's dramatic instinct comes strongly into play, and the work might be as aptly called a dramatic symphony, since the dramatic aspects of the poem have appealed most strongly to the composer.

Another representative of the Harvard University influence is Philip Greeley Clapp, whose tone-poem 'Norge' and a symphony have been performed by the Boston Symphony Orchestra, the latter in the spring of 1914 under the composer's direction. The former received considerable commendation, but the latter was not greeted with unmixed cordiality. Olin Downes, the critic of the Post, pronouncing denunciation upon it in unequivocal fashion, though Philip Hale regarded it with a measure of favor. Clapp is gifted with ideas and temperament, but is considered not yet to have issued from the formative stage or to have acquired a definite and personal style. The forms in which he writes indicate a strong classical tendency, but his sympathies with respect to thematic treatment and harmony are modern. Among his works are a quartet for strings, in C minor, a prelude 'In Summer,' for orchestra, a number of songs for solo voice, as well as part-songs, and several songs with orchestral accompaniment.

John Beach has shown evidence of distinguished sensitiveness and refinement of feeling in a number of songs and piano compositions which, as in the case of Hill, find the composer going to high literary sources for inspiration. While not original in a startling sense, there is a very personal element in Beach's music; without a very abundant technique he succeeds in his best work in getting himself expressed and is singularly[Pg 391] free from imitation, both in the emotional content of his music and in his technical presentation of it. He is a true and original melodist, with a sense of beauty of no mean order which is quite his own, and at times shows a considerable and subtle harmonic imagination. 'A Song of the Lilac,' poem by Louise Imogen Guiney, is an inspired little picture of the perfumed and mystic night wind. 'A Woman's Last Word,' on Browning's poem beginning 'Let's contend no more, love,' is very sincere in its emotion, as is also his warmly autumnal ‘'Twas in a World of Living Leaves,’ on Henley's poem. 'In a Gondola,' an extended 'dramatic monologue for baritone,' on Browning's poem, is a complete drama in brief, with some effective and luscious tone painting. Of the piano compositions one remembers with pleasure 'A Garden Fancy,' on lines by Rossetti, an 'Intermezzo' with a very poetic middle section, a 'Monologue' of Schumann-Brahms influence, and the 'New Orleans Miniatures,' reflecting charmingly a series of impressions gained in that city during the composer's residence there as a teacher. Beach comes from Gloversville, N. Y., and was for a time instructor in music at the University of Minnesota.

One of the most brilliant of the younger American group is Arthur Bergh (b. 1882), the spread of whose fame as the composer of melodramatic music to Poe's 'Raven' has been almost as rapid as was that of the erratic poet-genius himself through his achievement of that immemorially haunting poem. It was first produced by David Bispham, to whom it is dedicated, in 1909, and has become a universal favorite with his audiences everywhere. This music offers no startling problems for the modern theorist, scarcely for the lay musician, in fact, so simple and clear is it in construction; but it has an inner quality not easy to describe, a quality of verity, of directness, of immediacy of expression,[Pg 392] seldom attained by composers of the time. Here are no blotches or wastes of mere color, such as Poe might easily invite; the work is everywhere thematic. Three themes, of electrical directness and poignant eloquence (two for the raven and one for the 'lost Lenore'), suffice the composer for the entire work, with a subsidiary theme or two, but there is not a spot of tedious or laborious thematic development in the composition; it is everywhere fresh, crystalline and crisp. It is music that lives and speaks at every point. A little tempered programmatic suggestion is employed, at the rapping on the door, but always with the musical aim above the realistic. The 'Lenore' theme is of haunting loveliness, and the theme of the 'stately raven' is a stroke of genius in the simple expression of mystery and dignity. Everywhere is poetic and idealistic atmosphere, gained always with the simplest of means. It is to the composer's credit that, with a true intuition for the relative values in the content of the poem, he has made, not the gloom of the shadow-haunted chamber, but the dream of the 'lost Lenore,' the dominant note of the work. The composer has made an admirable orchestral score of the composition, which was produced, with Bispham as reader, the composer conducting, at a concert of the 'American Music Society' in New York, on April 18, 1909.

The composer has completed another 'melodrama' of a similar order, on Browning's 'Pied Piper of Hamelin,' also with orchestral score, which, if anything, surpasses the 'Raven.' He has published about thirty songs and about an equal number of piano compositions and some for violin. Of the songs the 'Night Rider,' on a poem by Fullerton Waldo, is the most important, a high-spirited and poetic work. It is scored for orchestra. In most of these smaller works Beach has not embodied a very significant content, but they have ingenuity, charm, and sentiment. 'Plaintive Love'[Pg 393] from opus 14 may be mentioned as colorful. He has many unpublished works, among them a light romantic opera, 'Niorada,' some excellent piano suites, two overtures, a 'Festival March,' a recent symphonic choral for orchestra and chorus entitled 'The Unnamed City,' and many songs. Bergh was the conductor of the orchestra in Central Park, New York, in the summer of 1914.

Joseph Henius, whose untimely death in 1912 cut short the career of a musician of high ideals, has left a published violin sonata of high merit. It was first produced by David and Clara Mannes in New York in 1909 and was enthusiastically received. It is fairly strict sonata form except for the slow movement. This is a romance of deep poetic fervor, alternately sombre and exalted, and reveals a lofty melodic beauty and much warmth of feeling. Henius has aimed at keeping melody plainly in view, and at the same time to gain perfection of the cyclic form. He was a pupil of Dvořák and a determined classicist. Among his manuscripts are a quintet in D major, a quartet in G minor, a comic opera and various songs.

A composer of classical leanings is Frank Edwin Ward (b. 1872), who has been connected with Columbia University as organist since 1904, and as Associate in Music since 1909. His works in the cyclical forms are a published sonata for violin and piano (opus 9), and, in manuscript, a quartet for piano and strings (opus 13), a string quartet (opus 22), and a suite for orchestra (opus 25). Modern in a general way, though not in the latter-day sense of the term, Ward's music exhibits an unusual melodic fluency and a harmonic variety and flexibility which often lend it interest and charm. It is music that is sincere and well-felt, and wholly devoid of strain. The workmanship is clean-cut and musicianly, and the form well-rounded and[Pg 394] balanced. A rhapsody for piano and violin or violoncello (opus 10) is effective and spirited with an andante appassionato movement of much warmth. Of a group of short piano pieces (opus 5), 'Prelude' shows a distinguished and refined quality of musical thought, with much modulatory interest, and a MacDowellish 'By the Sea Shore' is very agreeable music. There are also a number of songs and organ pieces, two sacred cantatas, 'The Divine Birth' and 'The Savior of the World,' secular part songs, and over thirty anthems and services.

Carl Busch (b. 1862), although of foreign birth, has long been classed among American composers. He has for many years been identified with the musical life of Kansas City, Mo., where he is conductor of the symphony orchestra and the Philharmonic Choral Society. He has also conducted concerts in his native land, Denmark, where he was knighted by the government in 1912. His early studies were conducted in Copenhagen, but his work as a composer began only with his residence in America, now of twenty-five years' duration. Busch's tendency is almost wholly along romantic lines, and his achievements are of a substantial character. He is best known for his works for chorus and orchestra, impressive compositions conceived on broad lines. Among the most important of these are 'King Olaf,' and 'The Four Winds,' the latter of Indian character. Others are: 'The American Flag,' 'Paul Revere's Ride,' 'The League of the Alps,' and 'The Brown Heather.' Busch has an excellent technical command of orchestral resource, and has produced a number of large orchestral works, among them a prologue, 'The Passing of Arthur,' a rhapsody, 'Negro Carnival,' and a testimony to the persistence of Stephen Foster's fame and influence in string variations on 'The Old Folks at Home' and 'My Old Kentucky Home.' During the last ten years Busch has felt strongly the[Pg 395] Indian influence and, aside from 'The Four Winds,' has produced an 'Indian Legend' for violin and piano, two groups of Indian songs, two symphonic poems and several smaller orchestral works, all of Indian character. From an earlier period are many songs and choruses and a number of violin pieces.

Also foreign born, and famous chiefly through his long and distinguished career as a conductor, Walter Damrosch (b. 1862) has made noteworthy incursions into the field of composition. Wherever David Bispham has sung, his stirring setting of Kipling's 'Danny Deever' is a popular favorite. In 1894 he essayed an American grand opera in 'The Scarlet Letter,' produced in Boston and New York under his own direction, but the work did not hold the stage. Much more favorable comment was evoked by his second opera, 'Cyrano,' text by W. J. Henderson, which was produced at the Metropolitan Opera House in New York on February 27, 1913. The critic of the 'New Music Review' wrote of Mr. Damrosch and this work, 'He has written in a well recognizable post-Wagnerian style.... His score is commendable for its coloring, its richness, and for the touch with which he has emphasized and elucidated passages now emotional, now gay, now picturesque, now tragic. The music of "Cyrano" is undoubtedly composed with skill, with verve, and in parts with spontaneity.' In the midst of a busy conductor's life Mr. Damrosch has unquestionably borne his share of the effort to make America an opera-producing nation.

Two other Americans coming within the present classification who have striven in the field of grand opera are Albert Mildenberg and William Legrand Howland. Mildenberg has written three grand operas, 'Michael Angelo,' in one act, and two three-act operas, 'Raffaelo' and 'Angelo,' none of which, however, have yet come to performance. His light operas have been[Pg 396] produced at different times, 'The Wood Witch,' by the Bostonians; 'The Weather Vane,' by an independent company; and 'The Princess Delft,' by various American colleges. Howland has also written three grand operas, 'Nita,' 'Sarrona,' and 'Bébé.' These have been produced in Italy, 'Sarrona' being the only one to be heard in America, when given under somewhat trying conditions by an independent company in New York, February 10, 1910. It is a melodious score, rather lightly orchestrated, but not without moments of notable effectiveness.

VII

San Francisco, especially as the home of the Bohemian Club, with its world-famous 'Midsummer High Jinks' or 'Forest Festival,' holds a record as a city of composers that is little appreciated in the Eastern part of the United States. Of this group William J. McCoy has probably made the most significant contribution to musical art. A composer of high ideals and broad artistic vision, of large emotional capacity and wide experience, his work reveals him as an artist of no ordinary stature. Educated in America under William Mason, and in the German schools under Carl Reinecke and Moritz Hauptmann, he nevertheless at an early period made himself familiar with the principles of the French school. His music is characterized by directness of invention, breadth of resource, and an appealing emotional warmth, and shows him, as well, as an adept in orchestration. His virile and dramatic music for 'The Hamadryads,' the 'Midsummer High Jinks' of 1904, text by Will Irwin, was one of the strongest factors in the elevation of the Bohemian Club's festival to the high fame which it enjoys. The themes are all lyrically appealing and of jubilant spontaneity, those of 'hope' and 'supplication' being particularly[Pg 397] felicitous, while the final processional march shows an almost Wagnerian breadth and rhythmic swing. The overture was performed in New York, on April 18, 1909, at a concert of the American Music Society at Carnegie Hall. McCoy's music for the 'Jinks' of 1910, 'The Cave Man,' text by Charles K. Field, shows a pronounced advance in the employment of modern resource. One of its chief features is the 'Song of the Flint,' a work of strong dramatic power. A grand opera, 'Egypt,' libretto by Charles K. Field, is the composer's most recently completed work, having been finished in 1914, and is thought to be his most representative and substantial achievement. An early symphony was performed in Leipzig in 1872. There are also an 'Ave Verum' for solo, male chorus and organ, a quintet in G, and various songs and short instrumental pieces. The composer is also the author of a theoretical work, 'Cumulative Harmony.' McCoy was born in Crestline, Ohio, in 1848.

Another veteran 'Jinks' composer of San Francisco is Humphrey J. Stewart, who has been the 'Musical Sire,' as it is termed, of the eleventh (1888), thirteenth (1890), fifteenth (1892), seventeenth (1894), eighteenth (1895), twentieth (1897), twenty-first (1898), twenty-sixth (1903), and twenty-ninth (1906) 'Midsummer High Jinks.' Stewart is of English birth, a composer of high musicianship, and is widely known in the field of church music.

Edward F. Schneider, of San Francisco, has also made a notable contribution to the music of the Bohemian Club, having been the composer of the 'Jinks' drama for 1907, the 'Triumph of Bohemia,' text by George Sterling, which was very cordially received. He is also the composer of the 'Jinks,' or 'Grove Play,' as this festival is sometimes called, to be presented in 1915. It is entitled 'Apollo,' the text being by Frank Pixley. Schneider's tendencies are inclined toward[Pg 398] the classic tradition, though not without rather strong romantic influence, and find their chief expression in his symphony, 'In Autumn Time,' which has been produced by the San Francisco Symphony Orchestra, under Henry Hadley's direction. His music is strongly melodic, an infrequent modern characteristic, warm in emotional quality and of well-balanced and rounded formal construction, though little touched by ultra-modernism. Of a number of songs 'The Deep Sea Pearl' may be singled out for its quality of haunting beauty, and a setting of Tennyson's 'Eagle' for descriptive power. A 'Romantic Fantasy' and 'Midwinter Idyl,' both for violin and piano, are extremely melodious, and show a sympathetic management of violin writing.

Another San Francisco composer of notable ability is Wallace Sabin, who composed the music for the Bohemian Club Grove Play of 1909, 'St. Patrick at Tara,' the text by H. Morse Stephens. This, one of the most famous 'Jinks,' won high favor, and the music, if not striking in originality, was dignified and of firm texture, and carried out admirably the Celtic musical idiom. A wild Irish revel, in the form of a jig, was one of its most striking features, and of much solidity and breadth was the processional chorus at the entrance of the King of Leinster with his retainers. Sabin has written much music for the church.

Herman Perlet, another of the San Francisco group, wrote the music for the Grove Play of 1913, 'The Fall of Ug,' text by Rufus Steele. The themes show a considerable power of characterization and a lively and elastic rhythmic sense. Perlet's tone-poem 'Mount Tamalpais,' was heard, under the composer's direction, in San Francisco in June, 1912, and called forth warm praise from the critic of the 'Call.' While not an avowed nationalist or 'aboriginalist,' he has based this work upon a theme of the Lake County Indians.[Pg 399] A 'Symphonic Suite' and a 'Symphonie Spirituelle' are of more recent date.

Edward G. Stricklen is one of the younger San Franciscans, and is regarded as a composer of ability and promise. The music for 'The Green Knight,' text by Porter Garnett, the 'Jinks' of 1911, is his contribution to the art achievement of the Bohemain Club. It is music of distinguished imaginative character and much freshness of inspiration, showing the rich modern harmonic texture which characterizes the younger school of American composers. Stricklen is also the composer of the first 'Parthenia,' the annual festival expressing the passage from girlhood to womanhood, inaugurated by the women students at the University of California.

Theodore Vogt and Arthur Weiss should be mentioned in connection with the San Francisco group, the composers of the 'Jinks' of 1905 and 1908, respectively, 'The Quest of the Gorgon' and 'The Sons of Baldur'; and also Joseph D. Redding, the composer of the first 'Jinks' known as a 'Grove Play,' which was entitled 'The Man in the Forest,' and was produced in 1902. John Harradan Pratt, of San Francisco, has composed, among other works, a trio for pianoforte and strings, which, if conservative, shows genuine classical ideals and considerable charm.

Nathaniel Clifford Page (b. 1866), at one time associated with the San Francisco group, but who later removed to the East, is a composer of a high order of musicianship. He has an early opera, 'The First Lieutenant,' produced in San Francisco in 1889, as well as two later operas, and has written much incidental and entr'acte music for plays. An orchestral 'Caprice' is an astonishing display of orchestral and contrapuntal ingenuity, and his part song on lines from the opening of Keats' 'Endymion' shows a highly refined sense of beauty.

[Pg 400]

There are many American composers of the younger generation, or, if somewhat older, too infrequently heard, who have shown a greater or less degree of creative capacity along the line of the ideals considered in the present chapter, but of whom it is too early to predict the nature or possible height of their promised achievements. Henry Lang, of Philadelphia, took the first prize in the chamber music class of the prize competition of the National Federation of Musical Clubs in 1911, with a trio for piano and strings, in E major. Henry V. Stearnes, with a very melodious trio in D minor, took the second prize in this class at the same competition. Stanley R. Avery, of Minneapolis, has written a considerable number of songs showing fancy and charm, among them 'When Hazel Comes,' 'There's a Sunny Path,' 'The Shepherdess,' an Easter song called 'The Dawn of Life,' 'On a Balcony,' a graceful song with a warmly emotional climax, and an 'Esquimo Love Song' of curiously chilly atmosphere. He has written also part songs and church music. Arthur Olaf Anderson, of Chicago, who has also written many charming songs, is a purist in his art, gaining exquisite effects with great simplicity and lucidity. Among his songs are 'May-time,' 'Roses,' In verschwiegener Nacht, and 'Mother Mine.' He is the composer of two pianoforte sonatas, several short suites and pieces for large and small orchestra, and a number of mixed male and female choruses. Chester Ide, of Springfield, Ill., is a composer of delicate poetic fancy who often shows an unusually poignant sense of beauty. He has written suites for orchestra, vocal works with orchestra, songs, and piano pieces. The songs 'Lovers of the Wild' and 'Names,' on poems by Stevenson and Coleridge, reveal grace and buoyancy of inspiration, and a waltz, 'To Margaret,' gains a singular intensity of dreaminess with the simplest of means. Albert Elkus, of Sacramento, Cal., has written piano pieces showing individuality.[Pg 401] Cecil Burleigh is a composer of exceptional promise, who devotes himself chiefly to the violin. His 'Eight Characteristic Pieces' (opus 6) for that instrument are musicianly, well felt, and fanciful, though not showing the character revealed in his later work. The 'Rocky Mountain Sketches' and 'Twelve Short Poems,' also for violin and piano, show a very great advance in imaginative quality, as does also a set of five 'Indian Sketches.' A recent violin and piano sonata, entitled 'Ascension,' is his most ambitious work. Christian Kriens, of Hollandish birth, has written felicitously in various forms. A number of solos for violin and 'cello, with piano accompaniment, show him as a fertile melodist. One of the former, 'Summer Evening,' is a simple mood of considerable loveliness. A composer of piquant and charming individuality is Charles Fonteyn Manney (b. 1872), of Boston, who has written many excellent songs, 'Orpheus with His Lute' being perhaps the best known. Frederick Fleming Beale, of Seattle, has shown originality and noteworthy poetic quality as a song writer. J. Homer Grunn, located at Phœnix, Ariz., has embodied impressions of the 'land of little rain' in a pianoforte suite, 'Impressions of the Desert,' and has written a Marche Héroïque for two pianos, 'Concert Studies,' and 'Garden Pieces.'

Edmund Severn (b. 1862, in England) has given himself extensively to composition for the violin. His concerto for that instrument in D minor is on broadly melodic lines, is, on the whole, conservative, but makes occasional excursions into whole-tone scale effects. A suite for violin and piano, 'From Old New England,' draws upon old tunes and ballads of that region for its thematic material, though scarcely constituting the composer a nationalist. Its movements, 'Pastoral Romance,' 'Rustic Scherzo,' 'Lament,' and 'Kitchen Dance,' are excellent violin writing, and show humor and a sprightly fancy. There is also a sonata for violin and[Pg 402] piano and a symphonic poem, 'Launcelot and Elaine,' which has been heard at the Worcester, Mass., festivals.

Certain American composers of distinguished attainments in the sphere of romantic and neo-classic ideals have preferred to spend their lives in Europe, with the result that their work is little known at home. Among these Arthur Bird (b. 1856) is known as the possessor of a fertile and truly musical imagination and a thorough technique. He has composed a symphony, suites, and a 'Carnival,' for orchestra; a ballet, Rübezahl; an opera, 'Daphne'; and various works for piano and organ. His decimet for wind instruments won the Paderewski prize for chamber music in 1902. Bird is a musician of German training and French sympathies and calls himself a 'conditional modernist.' He makes his home in Berlin, where he studied under Haupt, Loeschhorn and Urban. Earlier in his career he spent two years with Liszt at Weimar. In 1886 Bird was the conductor of the Milwaukee Musical Festival. Another of the expatriated is Bertram Shapleigh, who has adopted England as his home. His output is enormous and comprises works in many forms, among them orchestral works, cantatas, and choruses, and violin and 'cello solos, though songs constitute by far the greater part of his music. For orchestra he has a 'Ramayana' suite and four symphonic sketches, Gur Amir.

VIII

The classical tendency, by which is commonly meant the impulse to compose in the 'cyclic' forms, is seldom manifested by women composers, for reasons which have been variously explained, or for which explanation has been attempted. Whatever the true reason may be, it is, in fact, wholly on the side of romanticism, with the possible exception of literary tendencies[Pg 403] in the choice of poems for songs, that all the women composers coming within the scope of this chapter are found. One of the most gifted of these is Mabel Daniels (b. 1878), who has the distinction of having won both prizes offered for women composers in the competition of the National Federation of Musical Clubs for 1911, the first with a song for soprano, 'Villa of Dreams,' poem by Arthur Symons, and the second with two three-part songs for women's voices with accompaniment of pianoforte and two violins, 'Eastern Song,' the author of the text not stated, and 'The Voice of My Beloved,' the text selected from the 'Song of Solomon.' 'Villa of Dreams' is a broadly conceived aria, essentially melodious, and harmonically modern in the general sense of being free in modulatory treatment, without crossing the border line of ultra-modern chord effects. It is fluent in inspiration and authentically poetic. Miss Daniels' most significant work is a poem for baritone and orchestra. 'The Desolate City' (W. S. Blunt), produced at the Peterborough festival in 1913, and later by the Chicago orchestra in Syracuse, the composer conducting. 'Love, When I Sleep,' on original verses which show the composer to have a marked poetic gift, from three 'Songs of Damascus,' is notable for its melodic warmth. A 'Fairy Scherzo' for orchestra was conducted by the composer at the MacDowell Festival at Peterborough, N. H., in August, 1914.

Widely known through her irresistibly lilting 'Boat Song,' Harriet Ware, through many songs of exquisite character, has taken her place as one of the most prominent women composers of America. Her work has assumed a thoroughly modern character, is highly refined in feeling and often subtle in its expressiveness. Among her songs one of the best is 'The Call of Râdha,' which contrasts with poignancy the worlds of sense and spirit. 'The Forgotten Land,' another song which[Pg 404] takes high rank, shows a considerable chromatic harmonic fluency, and paints an exquisite tone-picture of a far-away world. 'Rose Moral' has much simple beauty, 'To Lucasta' fine contrasts of mood, and 'My Love is a Rider' is very bold and poetic. A true ecstasy lives in 'Joy of the Morning,' and 'The Last Dance' is rich and warm in sentiment throughout.

Few composers of America, of either sex, have surpassed in quality of spiritual beauty and refinement some of the songs of Gertrude Norman Smith, who commands regions of inspiration to which only a few rare souls have access. One studies and regards with keenest admiration such exquisite and deeply felt inspirations as 'From Afar in the Night,' with its restful motion; 'The Golden Birch,' so melodically beautiful and sensitive in harmony; the somewhat Schubertesque but quaintly charming 'In the Cloister Garden'; the joyously lilting 'In the Vale of Llangollen,' on Arthur Symons' poem; and the mood-heavy and passionate song on the same poet's 'Rain on the Down.'

An extraordinary record is that of Eleanor Everest Freer, of Chicago, who has, in a large number of songs, well-nigh summed up the whole range of the best in English and American lyrical literature, having drawn upon upward of sixty of the greatest poets in the language for her texts. Her opus 22, alone, consists of settings of the entire fourty-four 'Sonnets from the Portuguese,' of Elizabeth Barrett Browning. Her music presents the wide variety of expressiveness which such a task would of necessity demand, but, despite the interesting character of much of this music, it may be conceived that a richer musical texture would have been gained by a higher concentration upon a lesser output. The music shows French influence and is laudable for its freedom from the outworn conventions of Germanic tradition.

A melodist of much spontaneity and charm is Celeste[Pg 405] Heckscher, who has written a considerable number of songs and piano pieces of appealing lyrical quality, as well as an orchestral suite, 'Dances of the Pyrenees,' which has been very successfully performed at the concerts of the Philadelphia Symphony Orchestra and elsewhere. Among the songs 'Music of Hungary' is characteristic and bold; 'Serenade' is melodically ingratiating; and 'Pastoral Lullaby,' on a melody from the orchestral suite, has a haunting melodic outline and charm of mood. A 'Romance' for 'cello is simple and effective, affording a good opportunity for developing tonal breadth.

Clara A. Korn, ranked by Rupert Hughes as a composer of 'works of serious intention and worthy art,' has written a considerable number of piano pieces in the smaller forms, including a suite, 'Rural Snapshots,' an album of 'Nine Songs,' and for violin and piano a suite, 'Modern Dances,' and an Air de Ballet.

With characteristic Western enterprise Mary Carr Moore, of Seattle, composed, produced, and conducted a grand opera, 'Narcissa,' text by Sarah Pratt Carr, in that city in 1912 with pronounced success. The text is based on a romantic episode of local history. Mrs. Moore is the composer of many charming songs.

A complete list of American women composers would be of astonishing length, and beyond the scope of the present work. Helen Hopekirk, of Boston, should be mentioned, who has contributed to song and pianoforte literature much of worth, of beauty and charm, not untouched in its imaginative quality by the composer's Celtic derivation. Fannie Dillon, of Los Angeles, in a number of piano compositions, shows emotional and imaginative force, and a geometrical handling of ideas and grasp of harmonic construction having an almost masculine character. She has given a musical setting to Browning's 'Saul.' Mary Turner Salter (b. in 1856) is widely known for songs of much fineness of spirit[Pg 406] and humanity of appeal. Amy Woodford Finden's setting of Lawrence Hope's 'Indian Love Lyrics' have enjoyed a very wide popularity. Lola Carrier Worrell is the composer of many pleasant songs. A peculiar depth and authenticity of mood lurks in several songs of not very formidable technical construction by Katherine Ruth Heyman. Charming songs have been written by Alicia Van Buren, Virginia Roper, Louise Drake Wright, Alice Getty, and Caroline Holme Walker.

A. F.

CHAPTER XIV
NATIONALISTS, ECLECTICS, AND ULTRA-MODERNS

With the struggle toward national musical individuality on the part of the different nations of Europe, especially with the achievements of modern France, and with the development of the internal aboriginal musical resources of America, the creative musical life of the United States took on an entirely new aspect. While the influences which shaped the romantic and neo-classic epoch did not cease, they became greatly modified. The ideals of that epoch yielded to new issues, and the general forward movement was divided into two camps, one seeking a national individuality for American music and the other a continuation of the most recent European developments, especially those of France and post-Wagnerian Germany. Neither of these two movements was destined eventually to dominate the field. The promoters of neither movement were wholly convinced or wholly single-minded. The so-called 'Nationalists' experimented to some extent with the ultra-modern technical developments, and the ultra-moderns could not refrain from some essays with primitive American themes. It was inevitable that a broad eclecticism should arise, and in this a more truly national movement stepped forth than was presented by either of the existing wings. The will[Pg 408] for the greatest freedom, essential to the American spirit, asserted itself, and in its newest phase the nation is declaring for a complete musical independence, based upon the unrestricted assimilation and reflection of every phase of musical influence, within and without.

I

No American composer stands forth with a more sharply defined individuality than Henry F. Gilbert, and none has given himself with greater ardor to the accomplishment of something truly American in musical art. The ultimate stature of an artist finds a certain measure of adumbration in the absorptive and impressionable capacity of his early years. With Gilbert this capacity was exceptionally large and sensitive. As a mere boy in his teens he had an insatiable curiosity concerning every discoverable phase of the world's music, and at that age, while America was still in the throes of the Wagner controversy, he was thoroughly familiar with the music of the entire group of now famous French, Russian, Bohemian, and other composers, whose names at that time were wholly unknown on this side of the water, and comparatively little known at home. At the same time he gained an authoritative knowledge of the folk-songs of the world, and made extensive studies into remote aspects of the world's literature. Gilbert was born in Somerville, Mass., in 1868, and studied for a time with MacDowell, in Boston, but he never had much academic training. Concerning his formative influences, the composer may be allowed to speak for himself, as he has done in the following words:

American Composers: John Alden Carpenter, Charles Martin Loeffler,
Henry F. Gilbert Campbell-Tipton.

Finishing in his earliest period with the strictly German influence, Gilbert had also done with the exhibition of a predominating modern French influence before his colleagues had awakened to the existence of such a thing. It is, however, significant to note that the 'Negro Episode' for orchestra, and arranged also for piano, dates from earliest days. An orchestral 'Legend' was a companion piece. The modern French influence appears in the richly colored and highly poetic soprano aria, 'Salammbô's Invocation to Tänith,' on Flaubert's text; in the very imaginative songs, 'Orlamonde' (Maeterlinck), and 'Zephyrus' (Longfellow), and in the fanciful tone-poem for piano, 'The Island of the Fay,' after Poe. From this general period came, in strong contrast, the barbaric and famous 'Pirate Song,' as well as the delicate 'Croon of the Dew,' and the 'South American Gypsy Songs.' A strong Celtic influence now asserted itself, based upon the Irish literary revival and a study of ancient bardic and other Celtic folk-songs. The chief results were the 'Lament of Deirdre,' a remarkable song of intensest pathos and mood-heaviness; four very individual songs called 'Celtic Studies'; and the 'Fairy Song,' all on verses of the Irish poets. A fine piece of American savagery from this period, presumably deriving from Whitmanic influences,[Pg 410] is the song on Frederick Manley's poem, 'Fish Wharf Rhapsody.' These various phases finally yielded to a strong impulse toward a bold expression of Americanism, and Gilbert composed the 'Comedy Overture on Negro Themes,' a vigorous and jubilant work which has been widely heard and has awakened much interest in the composer. A less important 'Humoresque on Negro Minstrel Tunes,' for orchestra, followed, and a massive orchestral 'Negro Rhapsody,' first produced at the 'Norfolk Festival' under the composer's direction in 1913. 'The Dance in the Place Congo,' for orchestra, after a vivid word-painting by George W. Cable, is the composer's most extensive work. There are also for orchestra 'American Dances in Ragtime Rhythm,' and, in another vein, an impressive 'Symphonic Prologue' to J. M. Synge's 'Riders to the Sea,' conducted by the composer at the MacDowell festival at Peterboro, N. H., in 1914. There is a song on Whitman's 'Give me the splendid silent sun,' a chorus with orchestra, 'To Thee, America,' five 'Indian Scenes' for piano, and other works. Often rough in technique, though greatly resourceful, and rich in orchestral imagination, it is to the spirit of the time and nation that Gilbert makes his contribution and his appeal. He is the avowed enemy of tradition and fashion, whether in art, dress, or speech, and a fighter for freedom and individuality in music.

A. F.

Arthur Farwell is a composer who may well be called representatively American, inasmuch as his work contains elements which exemplify the spirit and aims of our native art. Mr. Farwell is perhaps most widely known for his studies in Indian music and for such of his compositions as are built from this material. He has realized, however, that presenting as it does only one phase, and that a more or less exotic one, Indian music in no way can stand as an accepted basis of our[Pg 411] national musical art. Mr. Farwell has kept well abreast of the tide of modern music and has cultivated a style in which its idioms are employed with considerable originality and imbued with the rare poetic feeling that is his. It is with this broadness of view also that Mr. Farwell conducted the Wa-Wan Press, established by him in 1901. This institution had as one of its principal missions the promulgation of the Indian and other folk elements in American composition and the exploitation of such works as employed this element. Its pages were, nevertheless, open to all native composers, irrespective of 'school,' who had something to say, and its founder has to his great credit the record of having lent early recognition to a number of the younger and progressive American composers.

Farwell's earlier compositions reveal the usual sway of varied influences with a tendency to the original harmonic treatment that has remained the distinctive feature of his late work. He may be said to have first 'found himself' in an overture, 'Cornell' (op. 9), written while he was a musical lecturer at Cornell University. Combining Indian themes and college songs in a sort of American academic overture, the vigor of style and effectiveness of scoring has gained for this work a permanent place in the orchestral répertoire. Following this Mr. Farwell devoted himself for some time to the study of and experiments in Indian music, and thus follow in his list of works several of his best-known compositions; the book of 'American Indian Melodies,' for piano; 'Dawn'; 'Ichibuzzh'; and 'The Domain of the Hurakan.' The orchestral version of the last-named work is a score of great impressiveness and of brilliant color. It has had several conspicuous performances which have done much to win recognition for his larger gifts.

The 'Symbolistic Studies,' comprising opera 16, 17, 18, and 24, are tone-poems with a generic title. The[Pg 412] composer describes them as being 'program music, the program of which is merely suggested,' an attempt, in other words, to create a form that shall offer the composer the means of unrestricted expression, while its musical coherence shall preserve an intrinsic worth and general appeal as absolute music. In the 'Impressions of the Wa-Wan Ceremony' (opus 21) and the 'Navajo War Dance' (opus 29) Mr. Farwell has made further interesting and effective treatment of the Indian color. The set of pieces comprised under the former title contains some very atmospheric pages in which the strange monotony that marks the Indian song is obtained by novel uses of diatonic material at once bold and beautiful. The barbaric crudity is still further implied in the 'Navajo War Dance,' where Farwell has renounced almost all defined harmony, preserving only the vigorous rhythm of the dance in the bold intervals of the Indian melody.

Mr. Farwell was one of the first composers to write music for the so-called community pageants. In the 'Pageant of Meriden' and the 'Pageant of Darien' he has obtained a remarkable success by the masterly skill with which he has welded the diffusive elements of pictorial description, folk-song suggestion, dances and choruses, into a coherent and artistic whole. Equally successful along similar lines was Farwell's music for Louis N. Parker's play, 'Joseph and His Brethren,' and Sheldon's 'Garden of Paradise.'

In his vocal compositions Farwell shows some of his best inspirations. Among the larger of these works is a tone-poem for voice and orchestra, opus 34 (the words from Sterling's 'Duandon'), a score of rich color and poetic description in which the voice has little of what has heretofore been known as melody, but performs a more modern function of sounding the salient notes of harmonies that are woven in an ultra-modern profusion of color. The same is true of several other[Pg 413] large songs, such as 'A Ruined Garden' (opus 14), 'Drake's Drum' (opus 22), and 'The Farewell' (opus 33). In the second section of 'A Ruined Garden,' however, there is a clearer line of melody over a harmonic scheme of haunting loveliness. This song is one of the more popular ones of Mr. Farwell's list, having been sung frequently by Florence Hinkle and others of note. There is an orchestral version of the accompaniment which enhances its rich color effects. In his two most recent songs, 'Bridal Song' and 'Daughter of Ocean' (opus 43), the composer has applied in a more modern and highly colored scheme some of the experiments with secondary seventh chords that lend such interest to his later Indian studies.

In some of his shorter songs Farwell has again made some valuable contributions to the nationalistic development. Besides the interesting cowboy song, 'The Lone Prairie,' already mentioned (see Chap. VII), there is a remarkable utilization of the negro element in 'Moanin' Dove,' one of the 'negro spiritual' harmonizations beautiful in its atmosphere of crooning sadness. In concerted vocal music Farwell has made a setting of Whitman's 'Captain, My Captain' for chorus and orchestra (opus 34), a 'Hymn to Liberty,' sung at a celebration in the New York city hall (1910); some male and mixed choruses, and part-songs for children.

B. L.

Harvey Worthington Loomis occupies not merely a unique place in American music, but one which is elusively so, and difficult of both determination and exposition. To place the delicate and fragile spirit of a Watteau or a Grétry in the midst of the hurly-burly of American life would seem a sorry anachronism, as well as anatopism, on the part of the Providence which rules over the destinies of art. Yet it is some such position that Loomis occupies, a fact which tends to[Pg 414] explain why he has not received the attention at the hands of his countrymen that the rare originality, charm, and finish of his work merit. The court of Louis XVI would have opened its palaces and gardens to him, but the America of the twentieth century with difficulty finds standing room for him in the vestibule. Bringing with him such a nautilus-like spirit as animated the artists of an earlier France, he matured it in an America which as yet knew scarcely anything of any musical system or spirit beyond the German. It is, therefore, a wholly amazing phenomenon of art that, out of materials thus solid, Loomis contrived to fashion his aerial and delicately tinted fairy edifices of tone, of a character totally different from those of Teutons of the subtler sort, and foreshadowing the achievements of the later Frenchmen with a newly devised medium at their command. It is evidence of the purest kind of the yielding of matter to spirit.

Consider that exquisite masterpiece, 'In the Moon Shower'—a very epitome in miniature of Loomis' genius—a setting of Verlaine's L'heure exquise for singing voice, speaking voice, piano, and violin. It seems not to contain a harmony or a progression with which we have not long been made familiar by our Germanic system, and yet how complete the departure which it makes from the spirit of German tradition, and how utterly it dissolves the medium which it draws upon to re-materialize it as the shadowy reflection of a Verlaine dream. It is not that Loomis has not become familiar with, and in a measure assimilated, the later French idiom, but that, without the knowledge and employment of it, he earlier spontaneously breathed forth the quality of spirit which we now recognize in a Debussy or a Ravel. Loomis has also been exceedingly hospitable to native aboriginal themes and has treated them in the spirit of a delicate and refined impressionism.[Pg 415] His technique is invariably of the nicest, with minute attention to every detail.

Loomis has produced much. There is a grand opera, 'The Traitor Mandolin'; two comic operas; incidental music of most aristocratic artistry to the plays 'The Tragedy of Death,' by René Peter, and 'The Coming of the Prince,' by William Sharp, and music of similarly refined mood to a number of pantomimes—a favorite form of Loomis—'The Enchanted Fountain,' 'Put to the Test,' 'In Old New Amsterdam,' 'Love and Witchcraft,' and 'Black and White.' There are many piano compositions of charm, sprightliness, humor, and impressionistic interest, including two books of 'Lyrics of the Red Man'; and many songs brimming with poetry and character, among them 'In the Foggy Dew,' 'Love Comes, Love Goes,' 'Hark, Hark, the Lark' (a delightful conception inviting no comparison with Schubert), and songs of negro character, such as the exquisite 'Hour of the Whippoorwill.' Loomis has written choruses and part-songs, and a stupendous quantity of excellent children's songs for schools. The composer was born in Brooklyn, N. Y., in 1865 and makes his home in New York. He started upon his musical career in the National Conservatory, where he was awarded a free scholarship by Dr. Dvořák.

II

If, thus early, it may be said that the many musical ideals and influences which have struck root in America have centred and blended in any single composer, that composer is Frederic Ayres. The true eclecticism which constitutes the latest phase of American development, to have value for musical art, must necessarily involve the complete submergence and assimilation of hitherto unreconciled influences in a single new creative[Pg 416] personality. Of such a new and authentic American electicism Ayres stands forth so clearly as the protagonist that a claim for him in this rôle will hardly be successfully disputed. This occupation of such a position is, however, a purely spontaneous circumstance, arrived at by obedience to no theory, but only through creative impulse.

Without being unduly extravagant, informal, though logical, as a formalist, Ayres commands his many qualities for the expressive purposes of a spirit eager for the discovery and revelation of perfect beauty. Such a perfection of beauty he by no means always finds; indeed, his earlier experimental excursions not infrequently left the ground rough over which he trod. And even at the present time he is only entering upon a full conscious command of his material. Only a keen sensitiveness to every significant influence, European and American, could have led to the development of so rounded and typical a musical character. Taught, in the first instance, by Stillman-Kelley and Arthur Foote, his broad sympathies led him early to blend the German, French, and American spirit through a devotion to no less striking a group of composers than Bach, Beethoven, Stephen Foster, and César Franck. A constant contact with natural scenes of the greatest grandeur, in the Rocky Mountains of Colorado, has undoubtedly exercised a broadening effect upon his conceptions. While he has not employed native aboriginal themes, or even made a special study of them, many of his melodies have a strong Indian cast, which is difficult to explain except on the basis of some psychological aspect of climatic and other environmental influences.

The trio for piano, violin, and 'cello (opus 13) abounds in supreme qualities of freshness and spontaneity. Taken as a whole, it is typical of the manner in which the composer rises, easily and blithely, out[Pg 417] of the ancient sea of tradition into the blue of a new and happier musical day. The work was first heard on April 18, 1914, at a concert of the Cincinnati Conservatory of Music, and has since had various public performances. The violin sonata (opus 15) is of great beauty and rich in characteristic qualities, and presents an interesting study in formal originality. A piano sonata (opus 16) and a 'cello sonata (opus 17) have been completed. Ayres has written songs of surpassing loveliness and originality. His 'Sea Dirge,' a setting of Shakespeare's 'Full Fathom Five,' from 'The Tempest,' reveals a poignancy of imagination and a perception and apprehension of beauty seldom attained by any composer. Other highly poetic Shakespeare songs are 'Where the Bee Sucks,' 'Come Unto These Yellow Sands,' 'It was a Lover and His Lass.' A richly colored vocal work is 'Sunset Wings' (opus 8), after Rossetti. 'Two Fugues' (opus 9) and 'Fugue Fantasy' (opus 12), for piano, of American suggestiveness, Indian and otherwise, are striking tours de force of originality. The 'Songs of the Seeonee Wolves' (opus 10), from Kipling's 'Jungle Book,' are vivid presentations of the composer's conception of the call of the wild. Ayres was born at Binghamton, N. Y., March 17, 1876, and lives in Colorado Springs, Col.

One of the most keenly individualized of American composers, and one of the most daring and original in the employment of ultra-modern resource, is Arthur Shepherd, formerly of Salt Lake City and at present connected with the New England Conservatory of Music in Boston, Mass. His work, as a whole, is almost unique in American music in the completeness of its departure from the styles of any individual composers who may earlier have stimulated or influenced him. The dominating factor in his work, almost from the beginning, has been the will to express himself in a[Pg 418] certain manner, wholly his own, and on this positive ground extraneous influences have been able to gain but a scant foothold. Of the Brahms and Wagner influences which he acknowledges, the former can be traced only in his earliest pages, and the latter seems nowhere to appear. His harmony would make any other German than a radical Strauss enthusiast shrink with horror, so sweeping and so subversive of the usual order are its departures from the accepted scheme, while, on the other hand, it can be said to be very little suggestive of the characteristic harmonic quality of the modern French school. Especially it eschews the luscious and velvety harmonic surface of Debussy. In both melody and harmony, the saccharine—even the merely sweet—the sensuous and the languorous, Shepherd dethrones with the sedulous intolerance of a Pfitzner and, like that composer, exalts in its place a clear and luminous spiritual beauty. Otherwise he works in lines that cut, in chords that bite and grip, and rises often to great nobility of conception and expression. In his latest works, 'The Nuptials of Attila,' a dramatic overture after George Meredith, and a 'Humoreske' for pianoforte and orchestra, he has fought against the tendency toward over-complexity manifested in his earlier work, and has gained a greater clarity of harmonic texture.

The pianoforte sonata in F minor (opus 4), with which the composer took the National Federation of Musical Clubs' prize in the 1909 competition, is a massive work of great breadth of conception. The second movement shows Shepherd's peculiar power of evoking deeply subjective moods; it presents an almost ghostly quality of the elegiac and has much of nobility. The third movement makes bold use of a cowboy song and has a magnificent original melody of a broad Foster-like quality, but the composer holds 'nationalism' to be merely incidental to a broader artistic function.[Pg 419] He rises to an unusual naturalness in this movement, which, like the others, is highly virile. 'The City in the Sea,' a 'poem for orchestra, mixed chorus, and baritone solo,' on Bliss Carman's poem, is a large work of extraordinary modernity and individuality. 'Five Songs' (opus 7) are worthily representative and contain much of beauty. There are also 'Theme and Variations' (opus 1), and 'Mazurka' (opus 2), for pianoforte, and a mixed chorus with baritone solo, 'The Lord Hath Brought again Zion.'

Noble Kreider, through the possession of that more exalted sense of beauty and flashing quality of inspiration which illuminates only the rarer musical souls of any period, takes his place with those in the forefront of American musical advance. In this capacity, however, his place is less that of a militant than that of a standard-bearer of ideals of beauty. He has the further distinction of being the only American composer, of first rank at least, who has found the complete expression of his personality and ideals through the medium of the piano, and who, as an inevitable corollary of this circumstance, has more intimately and sympathetically than any other made the piano speak its own proper language. American composers write seriously, and sometimes admirably, for the piano now and then; Kreider lives and breathes through it. It responds to him sensitively and with its whole soul, as it did to Chopin. It has become identified with his imaginative quality.

Chopin has, indeed, been the strongest influence in the formation of Kreider's musical character, and while, in his earlier work, nothing was more evident than this fact, in his later nothing is more evident than the emergence of his own individuality. So distinct, however, is Kreider's personality that it is unmistakably present even in much of his earliest music. A[Pg 420] mystery and sombreness, as of an influence of the North, foreign to Chopin, dominates certain of his moods; and then Kreider is more of a pagan than Chopin was.

The 'Two Legends' (opus 1) have beauty and inspiration, if not a particular distinction of modernity. The 'Ballad' (opus 3) is of heroic and Ossianic cast, restless, like much of Kreider's music, with contained passion—a passion which at times flashes forth in unexpected lightning strokes. A 'Nocturne' (opus 4) is haunting in melody and of an almost Oriental languor. The 'Impromptu' (opus 5) is a darting and upspringing inspiration, with a middle section of great lyrical warmth and beauty. Opus 6 comprises two 'Studies,' both containing a very high quality of beauty with special technical interest. 'Six Preludes' (opus 7) are characteristic, at times Chopinesque, and always fresh and inspirational. The 'Prelude' (opus 8) is a broad and powerful processional of great cumulative dynamic force. 'Three Moods' (opus 9) show the full emergence of the composer's individuality; the second, 'The Valley of White Poppies,' is a rarely perfect and ecstatic inspiration. Opus 10 contains a 'Poem' and a 'Valse Sentimentale.' There is also an unpublished work for 'cello and piano and a very original 'Nocturne.' Kreider's development has been chiefly self-directed. His birthplace and home is Goshen, Indiana.

Benjamin Lambord is a composer whose work reflects in a striking manner the evolutionary upheaval which, in the present generation, has carried the nation from the end of the old epoch to the beginning of the new. There could not well be a closer fidelity to the old German musical spirit and style, especially as pertains to the Lied, than in Lambord's early songs. Even that restricted medium, however, lent itself to all levels of creative impotence or dignity, and if there is[Pg 421] a particular distinguishing characteristic in Lambord's work in that style, it is to be found in a peculiar depth of sincerity, an adumbration of personality yet to emerge in individualized expression. This quality will be observed in the first number, Christina Rossetti's 'Remember or Forget,' of the composer's opus 1, which consists of three songs. 'Four Songs,' opus 4, fall under the same dispensation; all indicate a leaning to poetry of high character. A trio for violin, 'cello, and piano (opus 5) from the same period shows good impulse and bold and well-defined themes, but is conventional in harmony and structure generally. An elaborate 'Valse Fantastique' (opus 6) shows a similar energy and boldness of contour. The modern musical ear must search diligently, however, to discover its fantastic element. 'Two Songs' (opus 7), on poems of Heine and Rückert, are deeply felt, and 'Lehn deine Wang' in particular manifests a tendency to enrich the older medium.

With opus 10, 'Two Songs with Orchestra,' however, the composer stands forth in a wholly new light, as an ultra-modern of exceptional powers, and with a subtlety, an imagination and a rich and varied color-sense of which the earlier works can be said to give no appreciable indication. The second of these songs, 'Clytie,' on a poem by André Chénier, is a highly mature expression in the ultra-modern Germanic idiom, technically speaking, though in its musical quality there is much of subtle individuality. The voice part is managed with an appreciation of both delicacy and power, as well as the requirements of artistic diction, and the accompaniment is a web of sensitive modulation and dissonance pregnant with sensuous beauty at every point. The upbuilding of the climax is masterly. The song was presented with much success at a concert of the Modern Music Society in New York in the season of 1913-14, when it was sung by Miss Maggie Teyte.[Pg 422] At the same concert, under the composer's direction, was heard a number from his opus 11, 'Verses from Omar,' for chorus and orchestra. Here Lambord adds to his expressional scheme an effective pseudo-Oriental quality, gaining an insistent atmosphere with very simple means. Particularly interesting is the way in which he has varied the manner of employment of his main theme, showing a keen sense of thematic organization. Peculiarly gratifying is the a cappella rendering of the lines beginning 'But ah! that Spring should vanish with the rose' after the powerful climax for chorus and orchestra combined. The composer also has an 'Introduction and Ballet' (opus 8) for orchestra, a work of considerable elaborateness and much rhythmic and melodic variety, one which shows his thorough grasp of orchestral technique. With the nationalistic school Lambord has nothing in common. He is, however, a native New Englander, being born in Portland, Me., in 1879, and his earlier studies in composition were pursued under MacDowell at Columbia University. Later he travelled in France and Germany and studied orchestration with Vidal in Paris.

III

In the modification of the romantic through the influence of the ultra-modern school, the musical development of Campbell-Tipton presents a circumstance which is typical of the experience of many American composers whose formative period coincides with the present transitional epoch. The style of the composer's earlier work rested upon a broad Germanic basis, modern, yet scarcely having passed from the modernity of Liszt to that of Strauss. His work in the earlier vein is vigorous, structurally firm, definite in its melodic contours, and warm in its harmonic color. Force[Pg 423] of personality asserts itself, even if the means employed are not highly individualized and lean overheavily upon tradition. To this period belong 'Ten Piano Compositions' (opus 1); 'Romanza Appassionata' (opus 2), for violin and piano; 'Tone Poems' (opus 3), for voice and piano; two 'Legends,' and other works, especially songs. The culminating expression of this period is the 'Sonata Heroic,' for piano, a work of solidity and brilliance, in one broadly conceived movement. It is quasi-programmatical and is founded upon two themes, representing the 'Hero' and the 'Ideal,' the latter in particular being a melody of much warmth and beauty. These are variously interwoven in the development section, and lead to a return upon the second theme and a climax upon the heroic theme. The work has had various public performances in America and Europe. 'Four Sea Lyrics,' for tenor with piano accompaniment, on poems by Arthur Symons, belong, broadly speaking, to the period of the sonata. They are works of distinguished character, 'The Crying of Water' being especially poignant in its expressiveness. The somewhat elaborately worked out 'Suite Pastorale' (opus 27), for violin and piano, and 'Two Preludes' (opus 26), mark no particular departure in style, except that the second of the latter is so modern as to have no bar divisions.

With the 'Nocturnale' and 'Matinale' (opus 28), especially the former, comes a marked departure toward impressionism and ultra-modern harmonic effect, with a gain in color and a corresponding loss in structural quality. The 'Four Seasons' (opus 29), symbolizing four seasons of human life, bear out the tendency toward impressionism and harmonic emancipation, and at the same time seek a greater substantiality of design and treatment. There is an 'Octave Étude' (opus 30), for piano, and a 'Lament' (opus 33), for violin and piano. Among other songs are 'A Spirit Flower,'[Pg 424] 'Three Shadows,' 'A Fool's Soliloquy,' 'The Opium Smoker,' and 'Invocation.' An opera is in process of completion. Campbell-Tipton was born in Chicago, in 1877, and lives at present in Paris.

Arthur Nevin would be deemed an out-and-out romanticist were it not that the authorship of so significant a work as an Indian opera, drawing freely upon Indian songs for thematic material, places him in the ranks of those who have proved the existence of available sources of aboriginal folk-music in America. Nevin is not, however, a nationalist, avowed or otherwise, but with the freedom and experimental eclecticism which has come to be so general a characteristic with American composers, he is ready to draw upon any promising new source of musical suggestion or inspiration. The opera in question, 'Poia,' text by Randolph Hartley, is based upon a sun legend of the Blackfeet Indians of Montana, with whom the composer spent the summers of 1903 and 1904 collecting material. 'Poia' was produced at the Royal Opera, Berlin, Dr. Karl Muck conducting, on April 23, 1910, under stormy circumstances, due to the violent opposition of an anti-American element in the audience. The composer was, nevertheless, many times recalled at the close. The orchestral score is elaborate and modern in instrumental treatment. While Nevin acknowledges Wagner as the chief formative influence upon his musical character, the music of 'Poia' presents little or nothing in the way of obvious Wagnerisms. It is freely lyrical, often very melodious, and, where not boldly characterized by Indian themes, is built on modern German lines. A second opera, 'Twilight,' in one act, has not been performed.

'The Djinns,' a cantata on the metrical fancy of the same name by Victor Hugo, won, with the a cappella chorus, 'The Fringed Gentian' (Bryant), the divided[Pg 425] first prize of the Mendelssohn Club of Cleveland, Ohio, in 1912. The cantata is composed for mixed chorus accompanied by two pianos. The composer has chosen not to follow in his musical rhythms the metrical caprice of the poet, but to employ the words freely in a piece of modern musical tone-painting, following the single emotional crescendo and decrescendo of which the poem consists. The work is thoroughly representative of the restless energy of Nevin's muse and contains examples of the sustained lyricism and melodic and rhythmic charm which characterize much of his music. The miniature orchestral suite, 'Love Dreams,' had its first performance, under the composer's direction, at the Peterboro Festival in 1914. Other works of the composer are a pianoforte suite, 'Edgeworth Hills,' 'Two Impromptus' for piano, two mixed choruses on poems by Longfellow, 'At Daybreak' and 'Chrysoar,' and many songs of much charm, including a very direct and sincere piece of expression, 'Love of a Day,' the well-known 'Egyptian Boat Song,' and the exquisite 'Indian Lullaby' on a Blackfeet Indian melody. A piano trio in C major and a string quartet in D minor are in manuscript.

Charles Wakefield Cadman, despite his sympathetic and successful entrance—successful, very likely, because sympathetic—into the field of Indian music, can scarcely be justly classed as a downright nationalist. None of the reputed 'nationalist' composers of America, for that matter, will bear strict analysis as such, for in all cases their compositions upon aboriginal or other primitive melodies peculiar to America constitute but one department of their endeavor, and represent but one element of their ideal. Cadman, nevertheless, had he composed nothing beyond the famous Indian song, 'From the Land of the Sky-Blue Water,' would have done enough to prove the most important and valuable[Pg 426] contention included in the nationalist creed, which is that aboriginal American folk-songs may be a stimulus to the making of good music of a new sort, and that there is nothing inherent in Indian melodies to repulse popular sympathy. Like other American nationalists, Cadman is at heart an eclectic. The nationalism of Grieg, Tschaikowsky, and Puccini interests him, but not so much as the American freedom of choice.

The song mentioned is one of a set of four which first brought the composer into public notice, in 1907. The others are 'Far Off I Hear a Lover's Flute,' 'The Moon Drops Low,' and 'The White Dawn is Stealing.' In his treatment of these Indian themes he does not accentuate their aboriginal character, but enfolds them naturally in a normally modern harmonic matrix, with very pleasing effect. These songs were followed by 'Sayonara,' a Japanese romance, for one or two voices; 'Three Songs to Odysseus,' with orchestral accompaniment (opus 52); 'Idyls of the South Sea'; and 'Idealized Indian Themes,' for the piano—revealing various phases of the composer's versatility and fertile fancy. A representative recent work is the 'Trio in D Major' (opus 56), for violin, violoncello, and piano, of which the leading characteristics are melodic spontaneity and freshness of musical impulse. Everywhere are buoyancy, directness of expression, motion, but little of thematic involution or harmonic or formal sophistication. It is the trio of a lyrist; from the standpoint of modern chamber music it might be called naïve, but the strength, sincerity and beauty of its melodies claim, and sometimes compel, one's attention. There are strong occasional suggestions of Indian influence, probably unintentional on the composer's part, as there is no evidence revealing this work as one of nationalistic intention. The trio has been widely performed.

Cadman has a completed three-act Indian opera, 'The Land of Misty Water,' libretto by Francis La[Pg 427] Flesche and Nelle Richmond Eberhart. Forty-seven actual Indian melodies form its thematic basis. Other works are 'The Vision of Sir Launfal,' a cantata for male voices; 'The Morning of the Year,' a cycle for vocal quartet; and many works in various small forms. Cadman won the second prize in its class in the National Federation of Musical Clubs Prize Competition of 1911 with a song, 'An Indian Nocturne,' and one of the 'Four Indian Songs' was awarded a prize in a Pittsburgh Art Society competition.

The recent sudden appearance of John Alden Carpenter among American composers, with work of singularly well-defined individuality and notable maturity of style, is a phenomenon which calls to mind Minerva springing full-grown from the head of Jove. Except for a sonata for violin and piano, Carpenter's published work consists wholly of songs. The first set, 'Eight Songs for a Medium Voice,' show forth at once the unique personality of the composer. It is Carpenter's distinction, in a sense, to have begun where others have left off. He is a personality of the new musical time with its new and transformed outlook upon the art. The margin of advance gained by the most recent developments of modernity, more especially from the French standpoint, becomes his main territory, while it would be well-nigh impossible, from his work, to suspect that the old ground of tradition and formula had ever existed. Far from his modernity meaning complexity, it is attained generally by means of a veritably startling simplicity. It is the principles of modernity which interest him, and he seeks the simplest means of their exemplification. Above all, he takes high rank in the sensitive perception of beauty. These characteristics are all manifest in the 'Eight Songs' which comprise the richly beautiful 'The Green River' (Lord Douglas), a limpid setting of Stevenson's[Pg 428] 'Looking-Glass River,' a setting of the Blake 'Cradle Song' which combines science and poetry in a remarkable degree in view of the simplicity of treatment, the somewhat overweighted 'Little Fly' (Blake), the lusty Dorsetshire dialect song, 'Dont Ceäre' (Barnes), a crisp interpretation of Stevenson's 'The Cock Shall Crow,' and characteristic settings of Waller's 'Go, Lovely Rose' and Herrick's 'Bid Me to Live.' Of four highly modernized and colorful Verlaine songs, Le Ciel and 'Il Pleure dans mon Cœur,' attain the most modern scheme of musical thought with astonishingly simple means; the Chanson d'Automne is sympathetically set, and 'Dansons la Gigue' is sufficiently sardonic. 'Four Songs for a Medium Voice' contain the mysterious tone-painting 'Fog Wraiths' (Mildred Howells), 'To One Unknown' (Helen Dudley), and two poems by Wilde, Les Silhouettes and 'Her Voice.'

In the somewhat elaborate settings of poems from Tagore's 'Gitanjali' Carpenter wrestles with the problem of setting prose poetry to music, often with felicitous effect and yet not always convincingly, despite the intrinsic beauty of his musical ideas. The violin sonata in its themes, its strikingly individual harmonic intuitions, and its structure generally, is of great beauty and interest. The composer was born in Illinois in 1876, graduated at Harvard and studied music with Bernard Ziehn and Sir Edward Edgar. In 1897 he entered the business established by his father in Chicago and has since directed it.

An American ultra-modernist of extensive attainments, but whose work has as yet come very little into public attention, is T. Carl Whitmer. In an age when sensationalism and sensuousness have predominated in the taste of the musical world it is not surprising to find but slight public progress being made by a composer whose whole tendency is in the direction[Pg 429] of a highly clarified spirituality, as is the case with this composer. Whitmer has a spiritual kinship with that small group of composers (Arthur Shepherd in America, Hans Pfitzner in Germany, and d'Indy in France may be included in it) who, however different they may be in musical individuality, unite in banishing utterly from music not only the vulgar but also even the more distinguished aspects of the sensuously sweet, which chiefly and most quickly (except for the rhythmic element) recommends music to the multitude the world over. Whitmer's music is psychologically subtle and spiritually rarefied; in color it corresponds to the violet end of the spectrum. It shuns realistic and elemental qualities and seeks an ethereal expression which gives it not infrequently a sense of over-earthliness. Its salient characteristics are well represented in a soprano song, 'The Fog Maiden,' an achievement of extraordinary originality and distinction of mood. Among the composer's many other songs are the scintillating and crisp 'My Lord Comes Riding,' the poignantly expressive 'Song from the Gardener's Lodge,' the sanely ultra-modern 'Just To-night,' 'Song from Pippa Passes,' 'My Star,' 'Ah! Love, but a Day,' 'Cloud and Wind,' 'Nausicaa,' 'Willowwood,' 'Ballad of Trees and the Master,' 'I Will Twine the Violet,' 'Christmas Carol,' and 'Our Birth Is but a Sleep.' Whitmer's manuscripts include no less surprising an offering than six 'Mysteries,' or spiritual music-dramas, 'The Creation,' 'The Covenant,' 'The Nativity,' 'The Temptation,' 'Mary Magdalene,' and 'The Passion,' upon which works the composer has published a little essay entitled 'Concerning a National Spiritual Drama.' For chorus with orchestra is an 'Elegiac Rhapsody,' and for orchestra alone a set of 'Miniatures,' originally for piano, of which 'Sunrise' is the most important. There are an 'Athenian' sonata for violin and piano, various organ works, anthems, and women's choruses, and a number[Pg 430] of 'Symbolisms'—readings of original texts with piano accompaniment.

IV

William Henry Humiston has not given out a large quantity of work, but all that he has done bears the stamp of a genuine personality and indicates a composer of rich and sincere musical feeling. One may go further and say that Humiston is animated by the spirit of nobility of the old classicists from Bach down, and shares their passion for cleanness and clarity of expression. In his eschewing of the more fashionable ultra-modern idiom of the day there is neither a pose of 'back to Mozart' nor a sense of incapacity or unwillingness to join the chase. Merely he goes his own way and takes his own time about it, and the result is music that is worth hearing and that takes strong hold of the affections. In 'Iphigenia before the Sacrifice at Aulis' (poem by Sara King Wiley), a dramatic scene for soprano, chorus, and orchestra, Humiston has produced a work of great dignity, fervor, and beauty. His themes are few and trenchant, each an authentic creative idea, and he has admirably, in his music, contrasted the dramatic motives of the poem. His well-known 'Southern Fantasy,' for orchestra—the quiet Americanism of which makes it possible to include him in the present chapter—is based on three principal themes of negro character, and in general strikes the more sombre note of negro psychology, though a lively dance appears in the middle, later to be combined, with contrapuntal wit, with one of the other themes. It is a work of true beauty and reveals Humiston's mastery of orchestration. A suite for violin and orchestra is virtually, in its three movements, built out of a single theme, which the composer finally fugues for a climax. The work is no less beautiful than clever[Pg 431] and, like the compositions already mentioned, is bound to take a high place in the final accounting of American music. There is also an overture to 'Twelfth Night,' written for Maude Adams. Among Humiston's songs are: 'Song of Evening' and 'Song of a Young Girl' (both Sara King Wiley), 'Yo te amo' (Rosalie Jonas), 'Beauty's Daughters' (Byron), and 'Thou Beauteous Spring' (Kern).

A personality of unusual vigor and distinction of character is that of John Powell, who has rather suddenly come into notice through a number of large-dimensioned works of interesting content. Disregarding from the outset the classical thematic styles, the composer yet retains the cyclical forms, almost recklessly surcharging them with an Americanism of the boldest sort. This Americanism derives from the folk-songs and folk-music generally of the south-eastern part of the United States and from Virginia in particular. He easily brushes aside at a stroke the critical objections of the past decade to the modern harmonization of these folk-tunes. Through all his work is an unusual, an almost singular, opulence of impulse, of inspiration—the composer has an amazing amount to say and the notes tumble over themselves in his eagerness for expression. 'Sonata Virginianesque' (opus 7), for violin and piano, is in three movements, 'In the Quarters,' 'In the Woods,' and 'At the Big House,' and is based on negro motives and old reel tunes. There are three piano sonatas, Psychologique (opus 15), Noble (opus 21), and Teutonica (opus 24). The first treats of the human soul-struggle under the text 'The wages of sin is death.' The Sonata Noble is strongly Virginian and volkstümlich. The 'Teutonica' is an expression of the Teutonic psychology and is a kind of symphony for piano, in the form of an allegro sostenuto (sonata form), and a set of variations which comprise the elements of several[Pg 432] movements. Opus 13 is a piano concerto in B minor and opus 23 is a violin concerto largely based on Virginian folk-tunes. The string quartet (opus 19) is strongly American, even in its finale, which is a tarentella. The piano suite 'In the South' (opus 16) includes 'Humming Birds,' a remarkable combination of realistic tone-painting and musical structure, a splendidly sombre 'Negro Elegy' and a big and virile 'Pioneer Dance,' on a melody of 'Crocker' fiddle-tune type. Another piano suite, 'At the Fair' (opus 22), gives us a classic on the notorious 'Hoochee-Coochee' dance; 'Clowns,' with peculiar harmonic and melodic kinks; 'Banjo-picker,' a remarkable art-expression of the typical banjo tune, and other movements. Beyond these are 'Variations and Double Fugue' (opus 20), for piano, on a theme of F. C. Hahr, a work of American characteristics, and 'Three Songs' (opus 18).

Blair Fairchild is one of the American composers who have preferred to live chiefly abroad, a sin for which the penalty is to be little known at home. Fairchild was heard in New York in the season of 1913-1914 with his choral and orchestral work 'From the Song of Songs,' which was performed at a concert of the Modern Music Society. It is a work of excellent musicianship, though singularly apart from the chief elements of modern French advance for a composer who is so much at home in Paris. The tonally 'non-committal' chord of the augmented fifth is occasionally employed, but otherwise the scheme is distinctly Germanic, though without violent modernity. The most memorable phrase of the work is a little a cappella section at the words 'I adjure you, O daughters of Jerusalem,' which in its simple lyricism contrasts well with the more elaborate context. The choral writing is excellently managed. A companion work in the same form is 'David's Lament.' Fairchild has produced several[Pg 433] chamber music works, a string quintet (opus 20), a Concerto de Chambre (opus 26), for violin, piano, and string quartet, and a trio for piano, violin, and 'cello (opus 24), all maintaining his high standard of musicianship. For orchestra there is a pair of sketches, 'Tamineh,' after a Persian legend, containing Songe d'amour and Paysage, the score being dedicated to Florent Schmitt. There are also 'Six Psalms' for chorus (a cappella) and soli.

Maurice Arnold is a member of the group of Americans who came under the influence of Dvořák during the latter's stay in America, and he has lent his striking gifts to the cause of the romantic-nationalistic movement. His Symphony in F Minor, produced under his own leadership in Berlin in 1907, called forth warm praise from the German press, which found it a vigorous and poetic work, and in certain of its aspects boldly American. The directness and warmth of Arnold's melodic inspiration is equally manifest in the Sonata in B Minor for violin and piano. The main theme of the first movement is a rhythmically sparkling melody showing negro characteristics, although the composer achieves his effects of negro musical color without the employment of actual folk-tunes. The second movement attains a high level of beauty and intimate poetic appeal, and the last movement, in the character of a jig, is virile. Arnold's cyclical works are not highly involved thematically, though formally well-balanced; their strength lies in their admirable lyrical qualities. The very pleasing 'Plantation Dances' for orchestra have been heard in many places, but a 'Dramatic Overture' remains almost unknown. Other works are a cantata, 'The Wild Chase,' various piano exotics, including a Danse de la Midway Plaisance, a Turkish march, and a Caprice Espagnole, a number of songs, and two comic operas.

The work of Henry Schoenefeld bears a certain relation[Pg 434] to that of Arnold in that both composers felt the influence of what Rupert Hughes has termed the 'Dvořákian invasion,' although Schoenefeld, like other Americans, had essayed the field of negro music before that historic event. The most significant and representative published work of the composer is the 'Sonata (quasi fantasia) for Violin and Piano' (opus 53), which won the prize offered by Henri Marteau in 1899. Schoenefeld's better known works comprise a suite for strings (opus 15), an overture, 'In the Sunny South,' and a festival overture, 'The American Flag,' all of which have been described by Hughes, as well as a 'Rural Symphony,' which won a National Conservatory prize. An ode for male chorus, solo and orchestra, Die drei Indianer, a 'Reverie' for string orchestra, harp, and organ, and two impromptus for string orchestra, Valse Noble and 'Meditation,' are among the composer's later works, and there are many small piano compositions.

The last ten years of the composer's life have been devoted to a study of Indian music and themes, which have served as the inspiration of his recent compositions. He has composed a pantomime-ballet, 'Wachicanta,' founded on an Indian legend, the music of which idealizes Indian life, retaining the barbaric color. This ballet, in the opinion of Ruth St. Denis, the dancer, is the first adaptation of an Indian theme to the modern ballet form by an American composer.

Still later, and of greater magnitude, is Mr. Schoenefeld's opera in three acts and four scenes, based on a libretto in English, which portrays a tragedy of Indian life in Florida. The structure is modern, and the composer's purpose again to idealize his Indian material. Mr. Schoenefeld is of the belief that Indian folk-lore and tradition constitute the most poetic and essentially American musical material available. Mr. Schoenefeld was born in Hughestown in 1857.

[Pg 435]

V

It is seldom that a serious American composer trains all his batteries upon the target of a single musical form, but this is what Sidney Homer has done with respect to the song. In consequence he has attained a high development of his individuality in the song form, as well as having produced many examples of it, his published songs numbering nearly eighty. His work shows immense range of character, from a veritable drama in song form, such as the stormily emotional 'How's My Boy?' (Dobell), to childhood songs of the utmost simplicity, such as the 'Seventeen Lyrics from Sing-Song,' by Christina Rossetti, containing the charming 'Boats Sail on the Rivers.' While Homer frequently makes elaborate tone-poems of his accompaniments, he does not follow the modern French vocal declamatory style, but aims rather at what might be termed dramatic melody. He seeks an intimate union of music not only with the general emotional character and fluctuations, but also with the particular verbal shadings of the text. German in technical foundation, his individuality is well defined, and he is thoroughly emancipated from dependence upon the German idiom. 'Infant Sorrow,' an impassioned plaint of babyhood, is interestingly representative of the type of dramatic song which Homer has developed. It is one of two settings from the 'Songs of Experience' of the undying, yet strangely living, William Blake, the other, 'The Sick Rose,' being peculiarly poignant in its melody, which is almost entirely constituted of the intervals of the minor second and major seventh. The harsh 'Pauper's Drive' (Noël), and the bold challenge, 'To Russia' (Joaquin Miller), are in the dramatic tone-poem style, while the whimsical 'Fiddler of Dooney' (Yeats) more nearly approaches being a downright[Pg 436] tune. To the writing of sheer tunes Homer has devoted also a considerable share of his effort, with signal success, as the popularity of 'A Banjo Song' and 'Uncle Rome' testifies. Widely known, also, are his deeply felt setting of Stevenson's 'Requiem,' the charming and humorous 'Ferry me across the water,' on Christina Rossetti's poem, and the warmly melodious 'Dearest' (Henley), and Hood's 'Song of the Shirt.'

Almost exclusively devoted to vocal writing is Henry Clough-Leighter, who has over one hundred published songs and nearly an equal number of choral works, including settings of the Anglican Service. Exceptions are in the form of duets and studies for piano. In the classification somewhat loosely undertaken in the present chapter Clough-Leighter would be regarded as an eclectic. His work shows the influence of the various modern schools without leaning overheavily upon the individuality of any one of them, albeit there is evidence of a considerable influence from the Germany of Richard Strauss. He lays tumultuous siege to the strongholds of modern harmony and especially modulation, in which latter respect he is bold sometimes to a fault, inclining to a tonal restlessness that will not bear too much insistence. His harmonic fluency is unusual, and his workmanship immaculate. Among Clough-Leighter's most important choral works are: 'The Righteous Branch' (opus 32), 'Christ Triumphant' (opus 35), and 'Psalm of Trust,' all contrapuntal in treatment and requiring a large chorus of skilled voices. There are a number of song cycles, including 'Youth and Spring' (opus 5), 'Rossetti-Lyrics' (opus 58), 'Two Lyrics' of Victor Hugo (opus 53), all with piano accompaniment; 'Love-Sorrow' (opus 44) with accompaniment of violin, 'cello, and piano, and 'The Day of Beauty' (opus 48), for high voice, string quartet, and piano. 'Lasca,' a symphonic ballad for tenor and orchestra, is one of the best and most dramatic of the[Pg 437] composer's works. 'Seven Songs' (opus 57) show a wealth of emotion and fancy, Requiescat (Oscar Wilde) attaining a considerable distinction of mood. Clough-Leighter is a native of Washington, D. C. (b. 1874), and held organists' posts there and in Providence. Latterly he has been head of the editorial department of the Boston Music Company, and has made Boston his home.

Marshall Kernochan, though his output has not been large, has written a number of songs possessing qualities of distinction. He is among those brave souls who have essayed Walt Whitman and in his two Whitman settings, indeed, he has come off with an unusual measure of success. These are: 'Out of the rolling ocean the crowd' and 'We two together.' While neither of these songs reveals striking originality or more than a mild modernism so far as harmony goes, they are conceived with a breadth and carried through with a power that lift them out of the usual run of contemporary native songs. The composer has made the most of the lyrical possibilities of the lines, and has done well with the less singable phrases by a careful attention to syllabic accent and duration. 'We Two Together' has an exquisite middle section and a very powerful climax, and will require a singer of heroic mold. 'Lilacs' (Armitage Livingston) is a little work of true delicacy and possesses style, and its companion, 'A Child's Song' (Richard Hovey), treats sympathetically a little masterpiece of childhood poetry. Among the composer's other songs are four on poems by Browning, 'A Serenade at the Villa,' 'Round Us the Wild Creatures,' from 'Ferishta's Fancies,' 'At the Window,' and 'Give a Rouse.'

Homer Norris has not been without an influence upon the development of ultra-modernism in America by virtue of being one of the first teachers of theory in this country to receive his training in Paris. Moreover, he[Pg 438] was writing songs revealing modern French influence at a time when probably Loeffler and Gilbert were the only others in America who knew what was happening to musical evolution in France. His richly harmonized 'Twilight' is a song of much beauty, and more daring than successful, probably, is 'Peace' (Sill), the accompaniment of which consists of nothing but slow descending scales of C. Interesting, also, as a bit of early French influence is the Maeterlinck Et s'il revenait un jour? of delicate mood. Norris has also a sacred cantata, 'Nain,' and a cycle for vocal quartet on words chosen from Whitman and entitled 'The Flight of the Eagle.'

Gena Branscombe is one of the very few women composers of America who have established for themselves a genuine creative musical individuality. Even among this few Miss Branscombe holds a position of distinction, partly through the intensity of her personality and partly through her approach to harmonic ultra-modernism, a field to which most women composers, being only melodists, are strangers. There would be no occasion to refer to the question of sex in the present instance except that when it is stated to be feminine it commonly implies an inevitable discount upon attainment and is urged as an excuse for feeble work, which circumstance entitles a woman composer for whom such excuse need not be made, as in the case of Miss Branscombe, to a measure of corrective credit. Inexhaustible buoyancy, a superlative emotional wealth, and a wholly singular gift of musical intuition are the qualities which have shaped the composer's musical personality. Being a woman, it may be said at once that structural ideals do not interest her. Her work is an outpouring of moods, moods of an intensity and richness which demand a high musical color scheme. This, not science—though Miss Branscombe is well grounded in theory—but a startling[Pg 439] character of intuition, provides her withal. Her impatient melodies leap and dash with youthful life, while her accompaniments abound in harmonic hair-breadth escapes. No considered harmonic or modularity scheme gives her music its richness of color; she continually leaps into apparently remote progressions without looking before, and the same intuition which suggested the hazard suggests also the way out, which comes with surprising facility. She is best known for her many songs, among them the dreamful and haunting 'Krischna' and 'Dear Little Hut by the Rice Fields,' both Laurence Hope's poems, also Hope's 'Just in the Hush,' 'The Deserted Gypsy,' and the stirring 'Dear Is My Inlaid Sword'; the rich and impassioned Browning settings, 'There's a Woman Like a Dewdrop,' 'Serenade,' from 'In a Gondola,' 'Boot and Saddle,' etc.; the sombre 'Sleep, Then, Ah, Sleep!' (Le Gallienne); the fanciful and exotic little cycle 'A Lute of Jade' (Crammer-Byng), and many others. Miss Branscombe has written a very spirited 'Festival March' for orchestra, which was produced at the Peterboro Festival in 1914; an extended Concertstück for piano and orchestra; part-songs for women's voices; and a number of compositions for violin and piano. Miss Branscombe is Canadian by birth.

Alexander Russell is the composer of a number of songs of strong emotional appeal. He first became known for his setting of Lanier's 'Sunset,' a warmly colored work, but somewhat over-Wagnerized. 'My Heaven' (Harry S. Lee) also has lyrical intensity and bears out the chromatic scheme of the other. 'The Sacred Fire' (Alice Duer Miller) has more distinction of mood as well as greater unity of design, and 'Expectation' (John Hay) also shows an advance in style and individuality. 'In Fountain Court' (Arthur Symons) is perhaps his most mature and characteristic expression. Among other songs are 'Elegy on the[Pg 440] Death of a Mad Dog' (Goldsmith), 'The Prayer Perfect' (Riley), 'My True Love Lies Asleep' (Lizette Reese), and 'A Gypsy Song' (Braley). Russell's work shows chiefly the influence of the modern German school.

James Philip Dunn is a militant ultra-modern realist. He was first known by an extremely vigorous quintet for pianoforte and strings, in G minor, which was heard at one of the concerts of the New York Manuscript Society. It is of considerable thematic, and particularly of dramatic, interest, though scarcely revealing a settled style. Strauss, Wagner, Tschaikowsky, and Puccini have all influenced him strongly, with Strauss leading, but what ultimate personality will issue from this strenuously boiling melting-pot it is too early to say. The far from bashful realism of Dunn's setting of Poe's 'Annabel Lee,' for voice and orchestra, which was sung by Frank Ormsby at a People's Symphony Concert in the season of 1913-14, somewhat shocked the sensibilities of the critics, for futurism was still merely a name (Schoenberg's quartet not yet having arrived on the scene) and realism could still hold terrors for the sensitive. The goal of realism is the stage, and so in fact Dunn's latest works are designed for the theatre. They are called 'Lyric Scenes' and consist of two short and superlatively intense musical stage episodes, 'The Fountain,' after Charles McMillan, and the grewsome 'A Kiss in the Dark,' after Maurice Lavelle. They are truly amazing in musical structure and emotional content and may well be considered to represent the dernier cri in realism, after which can come only the deluge—or futurism. The composer has also a sonata for violin and piano in G major and a piano tarantella and minuet.

Alexander Hull, whose great quantity of work is accessible as yet only through one book of ten songs, is a composer who is likely to be heard more of in[Pg 441] the future. These songs reveal influences ranging from Schubert to Hugo Wolf, but, of much greater importance, they reveal also a richly endowed creative musical personality, even if one that has only begun to find itself in terms of a matured art. One will look far for a clearer spiritual beauty than that of the 'Wanderer's Night Song' (Goethe), or for a fleeting spontaneity and dissolving charm surpassing that of the little 'Blue, Blue, Floweret Mine.' 'My Love Is Lovelier than the Sprays' (Ezra Pound) has moments of magical and haunting beauty, though it runs the risk that Hull not infrequently takes of sacrificing simplicity and clarity of the voice part to harmonic interest in the accompaniment. 'Within the Convent Close' (Wilbur Underwood) reveals the composer's power to establish and maintain a mood and it also hints at the unexploited possibilities of the secondary seventh chords. Hull experiments; he is quite willing to be unsuccessful, but he insists upon the essay and is thus strongly creative. He admits many influences, and therefore will find his own mature style tardily. He has written over one hundred songs, a symphony, a suite for string orchestra, a fantasia for orchestra with piano, violin compositions, a suite for piano, a piano sonata, choral, and other works.

A. Walter Kramer has put out a considerable number of works in small forms, ranging in tendency from the earlier to the later German and deriving influence occasionally from French sources. He is an eclectic, but from the German standpoint. His works are chiefly songs and string pieces. Among the former are: 'I Dreamed and Wept a-Dreaming' (Heine), very German in scheme, albeit sufficiently modern; 'In Dreams' (Prudhomme), a work of ultra-modern tendencies which follows its title well and successfully establishes its mood; 'Come to Me' (Christina Rossetti), a mood of spiritual exaltation, which presents an avoidance[Pg 442] of traditional harmonic formulæ not always to be found in Kramer's music; the languorous and somewhat Debussyish 'A Nocturne,' and 'Bes' ob All,' a song in negro character based upon a melody originally composed for violin, which suggests MacDowell in mood-quality. For violin and piano is the characteristic Intermède Arabe, a fervent 'Elegy' of melodic warmth and breadth, and other works. Beyond these are works for piano, 'cello and piano, string orchestra, organ, and a number of part-songs.

So rapidly and in such numbers do new American composers appear in these days that both omission and disproportion must occur in dealing with the coming generation in any such chapter as the present. A few names may be mentioned, however, of composers who have given indications of having serious aims. Francis Hendricks has written piano compositions that are not without charm and modernity of style, as well as songs. Charles T. Griffes, in songs and piano pieces, has shown a refined appreciation of modern ideals. Deems Taylor was heard at the MacDowell Festival in 1914, with an admirable ballad, 'The Highwayman,' for solo baritone, women's chorus, and orchestra. At the same festival was heard a prelude by Edward Ballantine to Herman Hagedorn's play 'The Delectable Forest,' a work regarded as subtle and imaginative, and two movements of Lewis M. Isaacs' ballet suite, 'Atalanta.' Chalmers Clifton's suite for trumpet and orchestra has been heard at a MacDowell Festival. Leo Ornstein, in his 'Preludes' and 'Impressions of Notre Dame,' for piano, has out-moded Schoenberg and Stravinsky and inaugurated the school of post-futurism.

American nationalists are not to be sought exclusively among the native-born, as the example of Dvořák shows. Carlos Troyer, an Alsatian of long residence in America, has made a significant contribution[Pg 443] to the nationalistic phase of native music in his songs of the Zuñi Indians, collected during his sojourns with that extraordinary tribe. Among them are the 'Zuñian Lullaby,' 'Sunrise Call of the Zuñis,' 'The Coming of Montezuma,' 'Great Rain Dance of the Zuñis,' 'Festive Sun Dance,' and 'Hymn to the Sun.' If Troyer has not escaped Germanizing the accompaniments of these songs, neither has he obscured their essential character.

On the side of negro music contributions of great value have been made by two gifted representatives of the race, Harry Burleigh and Will Marion Cook. Burleigh is known by a number of original songs, sincere in their feeling and of much melodic and harmonic appeal, among them the favorite 'Jean' and the very passionate 'Elysium.' In 'Plantation Melodies Old and New' he has given excellent settings to seven highly characteristic negro songs, two of them, 'My Merlindy Brown' and 'Negro Lullaby,' being original, poems for the group being provided by R. E. Phillips, J. E. Campbell, and Paul Laurence Dunbar. Of much original poetic fancy, as well as valuable in its presentation of various negro motives in effective development, is his piano suite, 'In the Southland,' which has MacDowellish touches about it. There are also 'Saracen Songs,' 'Five Songs of Lawrence Hope,' and arrangements of songs in H. E. Krehbiel's book, 'Afro-American Folk Songs.'

The work of Will Marion Cook presents some quite extraordinary qualities and in part deals with characteristics of the negro which have hitherto found little or no expression in terms of modern musical art. Such a thing as his song, 'A Negro Sermon,' was certainly never set forth in print before. It reflects the quintessence of the drollery and humor of the primitive negro in religion, and follows with prodigious alertness his swift and erratic, though deeply sincere, zig-zaggings of[Pg 444] thought and mood. It is an altogether amazing production, a psychological musical achievement. The same is to be said of 'An Explanation,' a negro court scene in the form of a song. From such unusual works as these to straightforward ragtime Cook's songs cover a wide range of style. The 'Rain Song' is whimsical and forceful, with elemental emotion and impulse, and 'Swim Along' is full of instinctive joy of life.

VI

No composer in America has so completely arrived at an authentic and mature musical individuality along the line of ultra-modern European developments as Charles Martin Loeffler. Though of Alsatian birth, his long residence in this country has identified him with American musical life. Too much the artist to theorize about his art, he has enunciated no creed, although he has been known to suggest the idea that the composer's musical personality is largely constituted by the assimilation of all that is sympathetic to him in the range of his musical observation. Applying this principle to his own work, it is plain that his closest affiliation is with the school of modern France, although the work of no American composer is less closely identified than his with that of any one individual of the modern French group. There speaks through Loeffler's music a distinct personality, one that lives upon a high plane of poetic imagination, and whose intuitions are subtle and refined in a wholly extraordinary degree. Here is no convenient falling back upon modish scale effects or generic modern harmonies, but a pressing forward to the keenest and most poignant individualism. If it is an individuality that insists upon a veritable aristocracy of emotional and psychological subtlety, a total repudiation of the primitive passions which bind certain[Pg 445] great composers to mother earth and lead them to brave the charge of occasional banality, on the other hand, it is one which gives an intense and unvitiated delight to those minds which are able to follow its excursions into the remote and unwonted regions of the soul. 'Tuneful' Loeffler's music cannot be called, but it sings constantly in its own preordained and peculiar way, and its motives are often haunting and always distinguished. Loeffler's literary researches are incredible in extent and singularity, and have undoubtedly had a far-reaching effect upon the character of his genius, as has also his intimate knowledge of and devotion to the Gregorian chant, of the austere arcanum of which he is a supreme master. He is a consummate master of orchestration and his orchestral works have been heard with most of the great orchestras of the world.

His serious claims as a composer were first made known through his Veillées de l'Ukraine, for violin and orchestra, a suite based upon tales by Gogol, which was heard in Boston, with the composer as soloist, in 1891, although an earlier string quartet in A minor had been previously heard in Philadelphia. A sextet for two violins, two violas, and two 'cellos next came into notice, and after that a 'Fantastic' concerto for 'cello and orchestra. The 'Divertimento in A Minor,' for violin and orchestra, the composer played at a Boston symphony concert in 1895. Loeffler's fame has rested chiefly upon his remarkably imaginative tone-poems, La Mort de Tintagiles, after Maeterlinck, La Bonne Chanson and La Villanelle du Diable, after Verlaine and Rollinat, respectively, and the 'Pagan Poem,' after Virgil, which includes a piano and three trumpets behind the scenes. The songs are exquisite reflections of the composer's subtle imagination; among them are: Harmonies du Soir, Dansons la Gigue, La Cloche fêlée, Timbres Oubliés, 'The Hosting of the Sidhe,' 'The Host[Pg 446] of the Air,' and 'To Helen.' There are also an octet for strings, clarinets, and harp; a quintet for three violins, viola, and 'cello; two rhapsodies for oboe, viola, and piano; 'By the Waters of Babylon,' for women's chorus, two flutes, 'cello, harp, and organ; and other works. The composer was for many years second concert master of the Boston Symphony Orchestra, and makes his home in Boston and Medfield, Mass.

Extreme ultra-modernism, stopping, however, on the hither side of futurism, has not been pushed farther in America than in the very remarkable work of Carl Engel. Except that he is himself, he might be regarded as a disciple of Loeffler. His published work consists of several groups of songs, in which the voice is treated in the modern French mode of lyrical declamation over an accompanying tone-poem of high refinement of mood, a positively diabolical ingenuity and subtlety of invention, and impeccable technical finish. In this scheme—determined by the most recent Gallic influences—Engel goes his individual way, producing work that is always interesting and often unusual in both originality and beauty. Of the six Chansons intimes, on poems by Jean Moréas, one is struck particularly by A l'Océan, which is extraordinarily bold in its assertion of tragic oceanic emotion. Rions is a fine piece of bitter ultra-modern irony—a companion piece to Loeffler's Dansons la Gigue. Trois Epigrammes, on poems by Paul Mariéton, have much of poignancy and eloquence and weave a dizzying web of ingenious ultra-modernism. One thinks—how far from Americanism is this remarkable work! Of 'Two Lyrics,' poems by Amy Lowell, 'The Sea Shell' is of most ingratiating charm, particularly with respect to its lilting motion; and here the composer has allowed himself to write a tune! 'Three Sonnets' present Lecture du Soir (Chantavoine), an excellent example of Engel's capacity for[Pg 447] originality, Dors, ma Belle (Marsolleau), and En Voiture (Ajalbert), all of recent date. 'Four Lyrics' (poems by Cora Fabbri) are earlier songs and show the composer's point of departure.

Another extreme ultra-modern of Gallic musical sympathies is Henry Eichheim, who is known by a group of 'Seven Songs,' a showing not great in quantity but of a quality revealing at once a convincing distinction of achievement. It is not, however, the emotional refinements of the French poets to which Eichheim responds, but to the alluring and shadowy tints of the 'Celtic Twilight.' From Yeats he has chosen 'The Heart of the Woman' and 'Aedh Wishes His Beloved were Dead'; from Fiona Macleod, 'When the Dew is Falling,' 'The Undersong,' 'Across the Silent Stream,' and 'The Lament of Ian the Proud'; while he has made a single departure in the 'Autumn Song' of Rossetti. Individual and subtly felt as these songs are, Eichheim is concerned not so much with sheer or extreme ingenuity of means as with the attainment of the expression of deep and dreamful moods, modern in poetic expression, and hence demanding an equally modern musical treatment. This the composer gives them, finding a deeply sincere expression through the highly modern means employed. Perhaps the most eloquent of the 'Seven Songs' is 'Aedh Wishes His Beloved were Dead,' its solemn march of rich harmonic progressions conveying an emotion of singular depth and beauty. Eichheim has also written three symphonic poems.

Victor Herbert has made departures into the realms of serious music, notably of late years, in two grand operas, 'Natoma,' in three acts, and 'Madeleine.' 'Natoma,' the text of which is by Joseph D. Redding, was first produced on February 23, 1911, in Philadelphia and subsequently in New York and Chicago. It deals[Pg 448] with a story of Spanish and Indian life in California in the early part of the last century. The opera has had a very considerable measure of success and reveals Herbert's skillful handling of the orchestra, his power in broad concerted forms, and his unsuspected knowledge of Indian music. 'Madeleine,' produced at the Metropolitan Opera House, New York, in the season of 1913-14, was not regarded with an equal favor.

Besides some already included in this chapter there are other composers of foreign birth who either live or have sojourned here, as well as American composers who have preferred to live chiefly abroad.

Walter Morse Rummel, who makes his home in Berlin and Paris, has made for himself an individual and significant place in modern music. The tonal emancipation which Debussy gained through a basic devotion to the Gregorian chant, Rummel with increasing success seeks and finds in certain mediæval songs of the folk, in particular those of the troubadours of the twelfth and thirteenth centuries. His earlier works, for example the 'Five Songs,' dating from 1906, seem conventional in scheme, although one notes their essential refinement and esprit. The 'Ten Songs for Children, Young and Old,' are of another stamp. Innocently simple in appearance, they reveal on closer observation all the sophistication of a profound devotee of the ecclesiastical modes, or, it may be, the spontaneous utterance of one with whom these have become 'second nature.' Like 'Alice in Wonderland,' they will speak with equal pertinence to children and grown-ups. 'A Fairy Suite,' for piano, being 'Five Short Stories Preceded by a Prologue and Followed by a Moral,' are an achievement of similar intent, scintillating with fancy, charm, humor, and modern interest. As the 'Prologue' and 'Moral' are practically identical, the purpose of the latter would seem to be to exhort us always, in art, to return to our main subject.

[Pg 449]

'Hesternæ Rosæ' consists of a collection of troubadour and other mediæval songs, rhythmically reconstructed from the original neumes, and hence hypothetical. They are profoundly interesting and merit close study. Rummel has composed also a quartet for strings, a violin sonata, for piano a 'Prelude,' 'Sea Voices,' and 'Seven Little Impressions for a Simple Mind,' and many songs.

Hugo Kaun, an American resident of Berlin, has been a prodigious producer, his work being in keeping with the modern German musical scheme. He has much structural power, a fertile imagination, and a considerable sense of beauty. His chief works are three symphonies, a piano concerto, a violin concerto, a Fantasiestück for violin, eight chamber music works, five symphonic poems, and an enormous quantity of songs, the best known, perhaps, being 'My Native Land,' and many short piano pieces. He has also written two oratorios, the most important being 'Mother Earth.'

Paul Allen, of Boston, has lived chiefly in Italy, where, as one would expect, he has produced operas. Two of these are 'The Philtre' and 'Milda,' each in one act. They follow the modern Italian operatic scheme and show the composer's close sympathy with the spirit of modern Italian stage music. He has written extensively for the piano also, among his writings in this form being an Alla Tarantella, an excellent and refined little work, sensitive to the genius of Italian folk-music, and a 'Meditation' having remarkable depth of feeling, a work emerging from a real emotion and expressed in unusually beautiful terms.

Kurt Schindler, of German birth, and latterly a resident of New York, has put out about twenty-five songs possessing charm and simplicity, though not of a very strong modernity. One of the best, and a work of true beauty, is the 'Faery Song' on Keats' poem. 'Adoration' is another of the Keats group, and in another[Pg 450] group the composer has set poems of Wilde, Swinburne, and—a strange third to companion such a pair—Meredith. He has also 'Five Folk-Song Paraphrases,' the originals drawn from Italy, Russia, and France.

Platon Brounoff, a Russian living in New York, has composed, among other works, an overture, 'Russia,' which has been performed at the Central Park concerts under Arnold Volpe's direction, and a characteristic piano suite, 'In the Village.'

The Suite Fantastique for piano and orchestra by the pianist Ernest Schelling has been heard in New York. It is a clever and brilliant work, and makes ingenious use of 'Yankee Doodle,' 'Dixie,' and the 'Swanee River.'

Arthur Fickenscher, at present living in Berlin, has developed a highly refined and highly modernized art of which more is likely to be heard later. One of his most important works is a setting of Rossetti's 'Willowwood' for chorus and orchestra.

A. F.

CHAPTER XV
THE LIGHTER VEIN

It cannot be too often reiterated that, however highly developed an art a nation's music may become, it inevitably springs from the germ of popular expression that voices itself in the simple songs of its masses, the folk-music. In this lies the essence of its being and to this it owes its vitality. America's history has been such as to deprive her in a great measure of a folk-music in the true sense of the word. Many causes have contributed to this; the decidedly non-idyllic character of its early phases and the suppressing hand of Puritanism were undoubtedly potent factors, but the fundamental reason lies in the absence of a national consciousness, which is necessarily lacking in a country of mixed peoples developing a borrowed civilization. Now that America is able to boast the beginnings of a sophisticated art, it is beginning to be more deplored that there is not present the rich vein of folk-music to lend to our native art that vital and distinctive touch that should give it its place among the nation's music.

The course of our national life has brought, however, from time to time, certain moments when there has emanated from the people a voice more distinctly local in its suggestions, not entirely lacking the influence of a borrowed expression, but blending with it a certain flavor of its own and thereby creating a sort[Pg 452] of music in the folk-manner. Such were the songs of Stephen Foster, and such were the patriotic songs of the Civil War times, and in these two contributions to our native music we have the most genuinely and deeply emotional expressions that have yet sprung from Americans of European origin. Previous to the appearance of these, the complexion of our music had been almost entirely English, consisting as it did of patriotic or sentimental songs either actually imported from England or locally written songs which copied the English models so slavishly as to lose all distinction.

The negro element began at an early epoch to bear an influence on our expressions. As the one keenly suffering people in our midst, leading a life of elemental toil and possessing richly endowed musical natures, the negro, with his intensely emotional expression, was bound to make himself heard and felt throughout the land, and his songs entered largely into the fibre of our own expression. But even the most ardent supporter of the practice of employing the negro element as a basis for American music must admit that there is much of the exotic about it, and that by its employment alone our native art will never attain to that desideratum of the American composer, a nationalistic feeling.

It has already been remarked in commenting on this subject how Dvořák in handling this negro element remained unequivocally Slavic in idiom, and it has been noted, also, with what scant success our own composers have pursued the same efforts toward concocting what would seem an indigenous art. That such a nationalistic art, when it does finally evolve, will contain a strong strain of these various influences is undoubtedly the case, but the tinge of real local atmosphere which will constitute its nationalism will be an intangible quality not existing in any defined formula.[Pg 453] It will not possess salient external features which our own composers may seize upon, but it will be charged with a consciousness that shall be inherent in the composers themselves and shall find unconscious voicing in their melodies. It is not unreasonable to suppose that it is from what we generally designate as our 'popular music' that such an art will emanate; from the street, the theatre, the dance hall, and more particularly from the sentimentalities of the popular songs which periodically hold the affections of such a vast public. Ephemeral as is the mass of this music that annually sweeps over our country, each phase of it leaves its mark, some deeper than others, but all contributing to the upbuilding of the national character of our music.

I

Let us turn our attention to a brief survey of some of these phases of the popular music, both past and present.

Generally speaking, the bulk of this music may be classified into the two form-divisions which distinguish the main orders of all musical art—the dance and the song form, the rhythmic and the lyric. While the latter predominated in the popular music of past decades, the present-day tendencies give greater importance to the dance and even the larger part of our popular songs are set to the more enlivening rhythms of the prevailing dance measures. We have seen that the 'minstrel show' provided the medium whereby the first purveyors of popular music reached the public. It was through the means of this popular entertainment that many of the early favorites reached fame. With the rise of the vaudeville or 'variety show' the character of popular music underwent a considerable change. The introduction of the comic song brought a new[Pg 454] element into its nature and then came that slough of sentimentalism which was to remove from our popular music the naïve but sincere appeal of the old ballads and replace them with the more sophisticated but vulgar frivolities.

The sentimental song has, however, never entirely disappeared from the popular répertoire; it has, indeed, persistently maintained a considerable place in the affections of every period. Even the younger of our own generation can recall the phase of popular taste that existed just before the inauguration of a new order in the appearance of 'ragtime.' Almost all of the then popular melodies consisted of songs replete with the so-called 'heart quality.' The mild eroticism of 'Sweet Marie' and 'The Sweetest Story ever Told' shared the popular favor with the patriotically sentimental 'Comrades' and 'Just Break the News to Mother,' songs in which the memory of the war lingered and which were prompted by the success of the military drama. While the popularity of these songs has been great, the public has been indifferent to the composers, and they have had to be content with an almost anonymous fame. Some of the men who represent this past decade of the sentimental song are: Charles K. Harris, whose greatest success was 'After the Ball'; Charles Graham, Felix McGlennon, H. W. Petrie, and Paul Dresser.

The reappearance of the negro-element in the form of the 'coon song' marks an important epoch in the evolution of our popular music. The 'coon song' presents to us the light-hearted side of the negro; the pathos of the slave is never presented in these later negro songs—only the 'darky's' picturesqueness, his quasi-humorous vagabondage, and, in the more vulgarized types, his frenzied ribaldry.

The coon song has passed through a number of development stages. The first examples, such as 'Kentucky[Pg 455] Babe' and 'Little Alabama Coon,' were of a naïve variety which contained but the merest suggestion of the real negro element. There has been a subsequently wider utilization of the syncopated rhythms which constitute the popularities of 'ragtime' and present-day examples, such as 'Waitin' for the Robert E. Lee,' represent a rather complicated and decidedly more characteristic type than do the coon songs of preceding seasons.

Following the success of the coon song there was an exploitation of the 'Indian' song. These songs were even less genuine in origin than their antecedents. The Indian element was often obtained by the employment of a sort of garbled Oriental ragtime or of a disguised Celtic idiom, and only the titles revealed these compositions as Indian. 'Hiawatha' and 'Tammany' were among the first of these songs, and they were followed by a large number of imitations.

Besides these two principal classes of popular music employing a local color in its idiom, countless experiments have been made with other varieties. The Oriental has been much used and the refrain of the once popular 'Streets of Cairo' has served as the 'leitmotif' of a thousand and one pieces partaking of a pseudo-Orientalism. The Irish song has had a persistent vogue; it has several representative types; the sentimental 'Annie Rooney' and 'Maggie Murphy' of earlier days have been succeeded by the more boisterous 'Bedelia' and the perennial 'Mr. Dooley.' There is usually a saving grace of humor in these Hibernian offerings which palliates even their most patent vulgarity.

The vogue of the more recent popular music has been dictated by the various dance fads which have lately seized the public fancy. First the 'turkey trot' and 'barn dance' brought forth such originalities as 'Alexander's Rag Time Band' and 'Everybody's Doin'[Pg 456] It,' these to be followed by an avalanche of various 'glides' and 'rags.' The music of the dances and dance songs is unique in its blending of certain negro qualities of rhythm and melody with a strange indeterminate sense of something Slavic or Oriental in their abandon. The last aspect of popular dance music is that furnished by the importation of the 'tango,' maxixe and other Latin American dances. Most of the more popular tunes to which these steps are danced are pronouncedly Spanish and have in most cases been imported with the dances themselves.

An ingenious procedure on the part of the popular composer has been to weave into the verse or refrain of a song a few measures of some well-known popular classic. One of the first and perhaps the best known example is the use of Mendelssohn's 'Spring Song' in the refrain of the song so disrespectfully called 'That Mendelssohn Rag.' Following this there have appeared many such appropriations and nearly the entire list of the popular melodies of the standard classics has been thus utilized.

Viewed as a whole, the popular music of to-day presents an expression far in advance of that of even a few years ago. Some of it contains subtleties of harmonic and rhythmic design that would have been caviar to the public of yesterday. It is to be regretted that this advance in form has been made at the sacrifice of the more ingenious spirit of the early popular music, and that the tone of most of our popular music to-day is so uniformly vulgar.

II

There is a middle world of music that touches, on its one side, the more elevated regions of art, while, on the other, it does not lose its hold on the larger[Pg 457] world of popular taste. This is the world of comic opera—using the term in its general sense of a stage piece with music of a lighter variety.

The American public was early taught to appreciate this form of artistic amusement; the history of opera in this country shows a continuous record of the production of such works in all the larger cities. Important agencies in the popularizing of comic opera were the early performances of the Gilbert and Sullivan operettas, the brilliant seasons of French and Viennese opera at the Casino Theatre in New York, and the excellent services of the Bostonians in presenting ideally some of the most charming of the standard répertoire, besides revealing the merit of our native composers, in giving with success some of the first American comic operas to reach public hearing.

Up to the time of the Bostonians' championship of the American light opera composer there has been but an occasional performance of some work of local interest. Julius Eichberg is generally accredited with being America's first comic opera composer, his fame resting largely on a popular work entitled 'The Doctor of Alcantara' that was produced in Boston in 1862. Eichberg could be called an American composer only in that an American city happened to be the scene of his activities. There is nothing about his work to give it any special significance as American.

In fact, as we look over the entire product of our light opera composers, we are forced again to deplore the lack of a distinctive vein or local sense that would put the national seal on America's many and notable achievements in this field. Even England, whose cultivated art is almost as devoid of a national feeling as is America's, has, in the Gilbert and Sullivan operettas, works of a truly national significance. Mr. Krehbiel has observed that George Ade has the requisite equipment of an American Gilbert, but that as yet there has[Pg 458] not been found the composer who could be his Sullivan.

To assert convincingly America's claims to having contributed largely and valuably to the world's comic operas we have only to put forward these names: Reginald de Koven, Victor Herbert, and John Philip Sousa. The first name in this group is of one who is perhaps more closely identified with the comic opera stage than any other living composer. Reginald de Koven was born in 1861 at Middletown, Conn. After graduating at Oxford University in 1880 he began his career as a musician by studying in several European cities. The studies which were to bear the greatest fruit were those pursued under that master of comic opera, Suppé. On returning to America Mr. de Koven resided for some years in Chicago, where he did musical journalism and wrote the experimental scores that preceded his first and greatest success, 'Robin Hood.' Mr. de Koven's career since coming into the fame to which this work has brought him has been too familiar to need recounting. He is as well known for his songs as for his operas and his place in the lists of American lyricists is noted in Chapter XII.

If any of our younger composers of comic opera are possessed of an artistic ideal, doubtless in nine out of ten cases it is to write an opera that shall combine the sterling worth of good music with telling popular qualities in the measure that 'Robin Hood' does it. It is too late a day to write either a description or analysis of a work every page of which is familiar to the great majority of our music-loving public. It alone, of all the successes of past years, survives in the popular affection; and it is reassuring to those who fear an ultimate total depravity of taste that his work of charming grace and color can still hold the boards. 'Robin Hood' was the third opera which de Koven wrote. It was produced in 1890 by the Bostonians. Its success[Pg 459] was not at first marked, but it did not take long for it to find its place, and it is estimated that the work now has over three thousand performances to its credit.

De Koven in this appealing work has successfully simulated the hale and hearty style of the English ballad and the idyllic simplicity of the country dance and pastoral scene. With these qualities he has combined the richer warmth of a glowing romantic melodiousness and a graceful and lilting gaiety after methods of the Viennese and French schools. Vocally stirring and effective in both its solo parts and ensembles, colorful if not brilliant in its orchestration, 'Robin Hood' is a masterpiece of its genre. Withal de Koven is always natural and spontaneously straightforward—traits that have laid him open to the accusation of persistent plagiarism. Mr. de Koven does at times employ themes that suggest other works, but this is true of many another composer whose integrity is unquestioned, and there is much truth in Mr. Hughes' designation of de Koven as 'the best abused composer in America.'

Since the success of 'Robin Hood' Mr. de Koven has been in the unfortunate position of a man attempting to repeat a success along similar lines. Once only has he made any near approach to it and that in his seventh opera, 'Rob Roy' (produced in 1894). There is in this score much of the same freshness that characterizes 'Robin Hood,' and its melodies are not too reminiscent of the earlier works. The same cannot be said of many of de Koven's other operas, for in his less inspired moments the composer's heartiness becomes a rather too square pomposity and his lighter moments often descend to a banality unworthy of his best style. The following are among the other operas of de Koven, with the dates of their productions: 'The Begum' (1887), 'Don Quixote' (1889), 'The Fencing Master' (1892), 'The Knickerbockers' (1893), 'The Algerian'[Pg 460] (1893), 'The Tsigane' (1895), 'The Mandarin' (1896), 'The Paris Doll' (1897), 'The Highwayman' (1897).

Victor Herbert in his comic operas has contrived to write in a vein somewhat more varied than de Koven. While he has never achieved a success to equal that of 'Robin Hood,' his operas taken as a whole exhibit a more sustained power of invention and inspiration than those of de Koven. Herbert's style is more marked by piquancy and lightness, but he is not lacking in a melodic sense both charming and natural.

Herbert's style has undergone an evolution since his entrance into the comic opera field. His earlier works, such as 'The Wizard of the Nile,' 'The Serenade,' and 'The Idol's Eye,' are very simple in structure, while in some of his later works he employs an ambitious scheme that the laity are wont to identify with 'grand' opera. Some of Herbert's later scores are: 'The Red Mill,' 'Mlle. Modiste,' 'Algeria,' and 'Sweethearts.' Mr. Herbert was born in Ireland in 1859, was musically educated in Germany, and came to America at about the age of twenty-seven as solo 'cellist to the Metropolitan Opera House. His 'Americanism' is, therefore, acquired.

John Philip Sousa's fame, as is well known, is not primarily that of an opera composer. As the 'march king' Mr. Sousa's fame is as unique as it is deserved. Sousa is of German-Spanish descent. He was born in Washington in 1859. His career has been one of rich practical experience and opportunity, leading to an engagement as the leader of the United States Marine Band. In 1892 he organized the band which bears his own name and that organization has, perhaps, a more world-wide fame than any other feature of our musical life.

Mr. Sousa has been often held up as the most representative of American composers, an estimate that is[Pg 461] not without considerable truth. An analogy has been made between the Strauss waltzes and the Sousa marches: the latter have not perhaps so much art as the former, but they are all admirable pieces of composition, solid in harmonic structure, and stirring in their melodic directness. 'The Washington Post,' 'The Liberty Bell,' 'The High School Cadets,' and 'King Cotton' have each, in turn, inspired the land with their martial vigor, while 'The Stars and Stripes Forever' has become permanent in the people's affections, being, indeed, a national anthem more eloquent in Americanism than many of the tunes that bear the official seal as such.

Sousa has written several comic operas. One only of these, 'El Capitan,' has met with success. It contains much music of an agreeable brilliancy and gracefulness, notably one of the best examples of the composer's marches. There is lacking, however, in Sousa's music a quality very essential to the rounding out of a successful opera score. We refer to the more sensuous melodic line which lends color to the sustained portions of a work. Later operas of Sousa include: 'The Bride Elect,' 'The Charlatan,' 'Chris and the Wonderful Lamp,' and 'The Glass Blowers,' and it may be added that Mr. Sousa has made several incursions into the field of more serious music, having written a symphonic poem and several other works for orchestra.

One of the most prolific composers of American light opera was Julian Edwards (1855-1910). Mr. Edwards' list of about twenty operas includes the names of several that have had remarkable success. 'Brian Boru' and 'Dolly Varden' are more than names to many. In 1904 Mr. Edwards wrote the opera 'Love's Lottery,' which served as the vehicle whereby Mme. Schumann-Heink entered the comic opera field.

Ludwig Englander and Gustav Luders are other names endeared to American comic opera lovers. Both[Pg 462] are of foreign birth, however. The operas of the latter include 'King Dodo,' 'Grand Mogul,' and 'The Prince of Pilsen,' all works which, though neither marked by originality nor over-refined, contained enough of musical vitality to have won a place in the public esteem.

Less known writers who have from time to time added their quota to the country's enlivening and tuneful music include: G. Thorne, whose opera, 'A Maid of Plymouth,' was one of the first in the répertoire of the Bostonians; Henry Waller, the composer of 'Olgallalas,' which was also produced by the Bostonians; Carl Pflueger, who wrote '1492,' given by the Boston Cadets, an amateur organization, in one of their excellent productions; and Barnet, whose 'Jack and the Beanstalk' was also sung at one of the Cadets' 'shows.'

Several of the more serious composers have essayed the comic opera, not always successfully. George W. Chadwick's 'Tabasco,' first produced by the Boston Cadets, had a fair success when subsequently given professionally, but Edgar Stillman-Kelley's 'Puritania' and Henry Hadley's 'Nancy Brown' were decided failures. One of the recent successes was Deems Taylor's 'The Echo,' originally written as a college 'show' but achieving a long run on New York's Broadway.

Viewed in the light of present-day conditions and compared with the class of works that constitute the large part of modern musical stage-works, most of the foregoing operas may be classed as hopelessly old-fashioned and passé. The decline of comic opera commenced with the ascendency of the English 'musical comedy.' There are, it is true, many works of the latter order that contain pages of music far better than what is to be found in many of the more strictly operatic works. Such works as 'Florodora' and 'The Geisha,' as well as many later ones, have had much charm and refinement. It is the tendency of these[Pg 463] works to abolish the romantic strain of the old-fashioned opera that constitutes its baneful influence. The play and the music have become gradually more and more divorced and to-day the musical portions of such a work have little or no bearing on the action or the scene, but consist almost entirely of topical songs introduced in much the same irrelevant manner in which they are so ingeniously brought into a vaudeville 'act.' Paraphrasing Voltaire, the majority of this degenerate class is neither musical nor comic.

This is the direction followed by our lighter musical plays of most recent times. It is to be regretted that the grace and refinement that marks many of the English musical comedies is so entirely lacking in the American imitations of the same class. A note of vulgarity insinuates itself unfailingly into the bulk of our contemporaneous popular music. Flagrant examples of the ultimate type of musical play above described are those of George M. Cohan, in whose inspiration some have seen the first manifestation of the American 'genius.' The titles of some of Mr. Cohan's plays, such as 'Yankee Doodle Boy,' 'Little Johnny Jones,' and 'George Washington, Jr.,' reveal the jingoistic qualities of his inspirations. The musical numbers of these works are expressed in terms more or less Mr. Cohan's own. He has utilized 'ragtime' largely and in the rhythmical excitement of his songs lies their strongest appeal. Other authors whose works follow generally either the Americanized form of the English musical comedy or the more distinctly native form of Mr. Cohan's 'musical shows' are: Jean Schwartz, Silvio Hein, Gus Edwards, Manuel Klein, Raymond Hubbel, and Robert H. Bowers.

It is to be hoped that there will be a return to the more legitimate forms of lighter operas and that a revival of taste for the more refined forms of stage work may soon offer again to the American composer[Pg 464] opportunities to demonstrate the very suitable field which this branch of the art offers to his talent. An optimistic observer of present conditions may see in the unqualified vulgarity of our popular music to-day only the token of a vitality which, when softened by the refining touch of the next decade, shall result in an expression of individual charm.

B. L.

In English

In German

In French

INDEX FOR VOLUME IV

N. B.—Figures in italics indicate major references.

A

Abbey, Henry E., 136f, 142f.

Abbott, Emma, 160f, 168.

à Becket, Thomas, 326.

Aborigines. See Primitive music; also Indians.

Aborn, Milton and Sargent, 155ff, 173.

Abt, Franz, quot., 309f.

Ade, George, 457.

Adgate, Andrew, 73, 87, 235.

Ainsworth, Henry, 19.

Albany (N. Y.), early concerts in, 68.

Alda, Frances, 153.

Allen, Paul, 449.

Allen, William Francis (quoted on negro music), 289, 295, 301, 304.

Alvary, Max, 140, 145, 147.

Amato, Pasquale, 153.

'America' (national anthem), 324.

American Institute of Applied Music, 255.

American Opera Company (of 1885), 140f.

Americanism. See Nationalism.

Anderson, Arthur Olaf, 400.

Andrews, Mark, 358f.

Annapolis (Md.), 80f, 108.

Anschütz, Carl, 132ff.

Anthems. See Church music.

Antognini, 125.

Appreciation (musical) in America, etc., xii-ff.

'Archers (The),' first American opera, 112.

Arditi, Luigi, 126f, 135, 171.

Aretinian Society (of Boston), 98.

Aronson, Rudolph, 144, 177f.

Arne, (Dr.) Thomas, 39, 69f.

Arnold, Maurice, 346f, 433.

Ash, Gilfert, organ-builder, 64.

Aston, Tony, 105ff.

Astor Place Opera House, 128f.

Avery, Stanley R., 400.

Ayres, Frederick, 415ff.

B

Baermann, Carl, 250.

Bailey, Daniel, 29ff.

Bailey, William, 29.

Baker, Benjamin F., 222.

Balfe's 'Bohemian Girl,' in New York, 126.

Ballad opera in America, 104ff. See also English opera.

Ballantine, Edward, 442.

Baltimore, early musical activities in, 41f, 81f, 87, 101, 234.
[Pg 470]
Bangor (Me.), music festivals, 223.

Banjo, primitive and modern, 296.

Bardin, Edward, 65.

Barnabee, Henry Clay, 175, 177.

Barrère, Georges, 205.

Barrère Ensemble, 205.

Bartlett, Homer N., 383f.

Battell, Robbins, 224.

'Battle Hymn of the Republic,' 329.

Bauer, Clara, 250f.

Beach, John, 390f.

Beach, [Mrs.] H. H. A., 342.

Beale, Frederick Fleming, 401.

Beethoven, in early American concerts, 95, 97;
influence of in America, 360f.

Beethoven festival (in New York), 186.

Bentley, John, 72.

Bergmann, Carl, 131f, 183, 185, 189, 203, 208, 209.

Bergh, Arthur, 391ff.

Bertucca (Signora), 128.

Berwald, W., 358f.

Bethlehem (Pa.), choral music in, 214, 233f.

Billings, William, 39, 49ff, 61;
as singing teacher, 98;
original compositions of, 234f;
patriotic songs of, 322.

Bird, Arthur, 402.

Bispham, David, 147.

Bliss, P. P., 245.

Bohemian Club of San Francisco, 228f, 396ff.

'Bohemian Girl' (Balfe), 126.

Bori, Lucrezia, 155.

Boston, early musical activities, 31ff, 236ff, 240ff;
early public concerts, 56ff, 83;
early musical societies, 98ff;
early opera, 109f;
opera, 172f;
orchestral organizations, 188ff;
chamber music in, 203f;
choral societies, 206ff;
music festivals, 223;
'Boston group' of composers, 335ff.

Boston Conservatory, 250.

Boston Symphony Orchestra, 190.

Bostonians (light opera troupe), 176f;
their influence on comic opera, 457.

Bottesini, 127.

Boudousquie, and New Orleans opera, 161ff.

Bradbury, William B., 222, 244f.

Brahms, influence of, in America, 348, 362.

Brahms festival, 186.

Brand, Michael, 193f.

Brandt, Marianne, 138, 140.[Pg 471]

Branscombe, Gena, 438f.

Brattle, Thomas, 19.

Bremner, James, 69, 85.

Brewer, John Hyatt, 358.

Brignoli, 132.

Bristow, George F., 334;
(quoted) 182.

Broadhurst (Miss), 74f, 111.

Brockway, Howard, 382f.

Brooklyn (N. Y.), choral societies of, 213.

Brooklyn Philharmonic Society, 185.

Brounoff, Platon, 450.

Brown, A. L., quoted, 102.

Brown, William, 66f, 72.

Buck, Dudley, 345f.

Bull, Ole, in America, 130f.

Bullard, Frederick Field, 353.

Bunyan, John, quoted, 12.

Burleigh, Cecil, 401.

Burleigh, Harry, 443.

Burrian, Carl, 155.

Burton, Frederick R., 347.

Busch, Carl, 394f.

Byrd, William, 4.

C

Cable, George W., 307f.

Cadman, Charles Wakefield, 425ff.

Calvé, Emma, 144, 146, 151.

Campanari, Giuseppe, 147.

Campanini, Cleofonte (opera conductor), 152f, 171f.

Campanini, Italo, 133, 135f, 141.

Campbell-Tipton, 422ff.

Canada, conservatories of, 259ff.

Canadian folk-song, 313.

Capron, Henri, 66, 72.

Caradori-Allan (Mme.), 124.

Carey, Henry, 324.

'Carmen,' in New York, 135, 155.

Carnegie, Andrew, 211.

Carnegie Hall (New York), 211.

Carpenter, John Alden, 427f.

Carr, Benjamin, 112.

Carroll, Marcus H., 354.

Caruso, Enrico, 149, 155.

Casino Theatre (New York), 177f.

Catholic Church. See Church music; also Palestrina.

Cavalieri, Lina, 151, 153.

'Cavalleria Rusticana' (Mascagni), in New York, 143.

Century Opera Company (New York), 155ff.

Chadwick, George W., 248f, 311, 337f, 357, 462.

Chamber music ensembles, in the United States, 201ff.

Chappell, on music in the 17th century, 6.

Charleston (S. C.), early concerts in, 9, 40ff, 76ff, 83;
early musical societies of, 86f;
early opera, 106, 108, 111.

Cheney, Moses E., 244.

Chicago, opera in, 169ff;
orchestral organizations of, 191ff;
chamber music organizations in, 205;
choral societies of, 216f;
[Pg 472]musical conventions in, 222, 244;
music festivals in, 223.

Chicago Conservatory, 254f.

Chicago Musical College, 253f.

Chicago-Philadelphia Opera Company, 169, 171f.

Chittenden, Kate S., 255.

Chopin, influence of, in America, 361, 419f.

Choral music, in early Boston, 60, 73, 88;
in Bethlehem (Pa.), 214, 233f.

Choral societies, community choruses, xix;
early American, 84ff;
American, 206ff.
See also German choral societies.

Christy, Edwin T. (negro minstrel), 316ff.

Church music, in America, x;
in early New England, 13ff;
early American, 45, 231ff, 332f;
(influence of) 345;
early Philadelphia institution for, 87f;
American composers of, 355ff.
See also Sacred Music.

Church music, Institution for the Encouragement of, 73.

Cincinnati, choral societies, 214ff;
music festival, 222f;
opera in, 173f;
orchestral organizations of, 193f.

Cincinnati College of Music, 254.

Cincinnati Conservatory, 247, 250f.

Clapp, Philip Greeley, 390.

Classic composers, American, 331ff, 360ff, 407ff.

Claxton, Philander D., 242f.

Cleveland Conservatory, 253.

Clifton, Chalmers, 442.

Clough-Leighter, Henry, 436f.

Coerne, Louis Adolphe, 343.

Cohan, George M., 463.

Coini, Jacques, 157.

Cole, Rossetter G., 384.

College of Music of Cincinnati, 193.

Colleges (American), musical courses in, 261ff.

Colleges, musical. See Conservatories.

'Columbia, the Gem of the Ocean,' 326.

Columbia Anacreontic Society, 90f.

Columbia University, music department of, 267f.

Comer, Thomas, 188.

Comic opera, in America, 174ff;
American, 456ff.

Commercialism in music in America, xvi.

Community drama. See Pageants.

Composition, courses in. See Colleges (American), musical courses in; also Conservatories.

Concerts, (early American) 31, 33ff;
compared to European, in 18th cent., 83, 55ff, 84ff;
(municipal) xviii-f;
(symphony, at popular prices), xix;
(free public) 273ff.
See also Musical organizations.

Concordia Society (of New York), 97.[Pg 473]

Congregational singing in early New England, 15ff.

Conried, Heinrich, 149ff.

Conservatories, American, vii-f, 246ff.
See also Canada; also specific names.

Convention, musical, 244.
See also Music festivals.

Converse, C. C., 357.

Converse, Frederick S., 154, 227, 377ff.

Cook, Will Marion, 443f.

Coombs, C. W., 355.

'Coon song,' 454f.

Corre, Joseph, 67.

Cotton, John, cited, 17, 20f.

Counterpoint (Billings quoted on), 51.

Cowboy songs, 311f.

Creoles, music and dances of, 304ff.

Cromwell, Oliver, cited, 13.

D

Damrosch, Frank, 187, 211, 212, 213, 256ff;
quoted on American conservatories, 246.

Damrosch, Leopold, 138f, 183, 185, 210.

Damrosch, Walter, 140, 142ff, 184ff, 211;
quoted, 382;
as composer, 395.

Dance songs, in 'popular' music, 455f.

Dances, of negroes, 304f.

Daniels, Mabel, 403.

Dartmouth College, early musical society in, 101f, 238f.

Davis, John, 115, 161.

Davis, T. Kemper, cited, 242.

Deblois, Stephen, 57f.

de Koven, Reginald, 353, 458ff.

Debussy, influence of, in America, xiii;
works of, introduced in America, 186.

Delacroix, Joseph, 66f.

Demarest, Clifford, 358f.

Democracy and American music, xvii.

Denver (Colo.), orchestra in, 199.

Destinn, Emmy, 153.

Dillon, Fannie, 405.

Dippel, Andreas, 147, 152ff, 154, 171f, 179.

Dipper, Thomas, 57f.

'Dixie,' 318, 327f.

Dixon, George Washington (negro minstrel), 318.

Dowland, John, 4.

Drama. See Comic Opera; Musical Comedy; Opera; Theatre.

Drum, as used by negroes, 297.

Dunlap, William, 112;
on early American opera, 111f;
librettist of first American opera, 112.

Dunn, James Philip, 440.

Dvořák, Antonin, 184, 256;
on American music, xii, 332;
on negro folk-song, 310.

Dwight, J. S., quoted, 100, 238.

Dwight's Journal of Music, 238.[Pg 474]

E

Eames, Emma, 143, 147.

Eccles, Solomon, cit., 13f.

Education, musical. See Musical Education.

Edwards, Julian, 461.

Eichberg, Julius, 250, 457.

Eichheim, Henry, 447.

Eisfeld, Theodore, 203.

Eliot, John, cit., 16, 19ff.

Elizabeth (Queen), cit., 5.

Elkus, Arthur, 400.

Elson, Louis C., on early American music, 2, 32;
cited, 97;
quoted, 99;
on American patriotic songs, 320, 324.

Emery, Stephen, 334.

Emmett, Daniel D. (negro minstrel), 316, 318;
composer of 'Dixie,' 327f.

Engel, Carl, 446f.

England (music and customs), in 17th cent., 3ff;
opera in, during 17th-18th cent., 106f;
pageants in, 226, 228;
church music in, 356;
comic opera in, 457.

Englander, Ludwig, 461f.

English influence, (on early German music) 4f;
(on early American musical societies) 90f;
(on music in early Boston) 236f;
(on early American music) 284.

English language, opera in. See Opera in English. See also Comic opera.

English musical comedy. See Musical comedy, English.

English opera, in early America, 36f, 107ff, 112;
in 17th-18th cent., 106ff;
decline of, in New York, in early 19th cent., 117;
revival of, 119ff, 123ff.

Enstone, Edward, 24f.

Erskine, Thomas Alexander, 70.

Essex Musical Association, 101.

Esterley, George, 75.

Europe, concert life of, during 18th century, 83.

European influence, on American composition, 284, 331ff.

European universities, musical courses in, 264.

Euterpean Society, of early New York, 89ff.

F

Faelten, Carl, 248.

Fairchild, Blair, 432f.

Farrar, Geraldine, 151, 155.

Farwell, Arthur, 226f, 310, 410ff;
on municipal music, 273ff.

Fay, C. N., 191.

Felsted, Samuel, 61.

Festivals, musical. See Music festivals.

Fickenscher, Arthur, 450.

Finck, Henry T., cited, 353, 368.

Finden, Amy Woodforde, 406.

Fischer, Emil, 140, 145, 147.

Fisk University, Jubilee Singers of, 308ff.[Pg 475]

Flagg, Joseph, 29, 45.

Flagg, Josiah, 59.

Flagler, H. H., 186.

Flonzaley Quartet, 204f.

Floridia, Pietro, 188.

Florio, Caryl, 358f.

Foerster, Adolph M., 196;
quoted, 197.

Folk-song (in America), x-f, xi-ff, 277ff, 451f.
See also Cowboy songs; Negro folk-song; Indians; Canadian folk-songs; Spanish-American folk-songs; 'Popular' music.

Foote, Arthur, 338ff, 357.

Forrage, Stephen, 70.

Foster, Stephen Collins, 286, 318ff, 452;
(influence of) 416.

Francis, Samuel, 65.

Franklin, Benjamin, 29, 70.

Fredericksburg, early musical life of, 82, 87.

Free concerts. See Concerts.

Freer, Eleanor Everest, 404.

Fremstad, Olive, 149.

French influence, on music in America, xiii-f, 74, 79, 81;
on negro music, 304ff;
on modern American music, 407, 409, 414, 416, 427, 437f, 441, 444, 446ff.

French opera, in early America, 104, 110f, 114ff, 126;
in (modern) New York, 152, 154, 178f;
in New Orleans, 161ff;
in Philadelphia, 168.

French-Canadian folk-song, 313.

Friedenthal, Albert, cited, 305.

Frieze, Henry S., 268.

Fry, D. H., quoted, 130.

Fry, E. R., 128.

Fry, William H. (opera composer), 132, 167f, 333f.

Funeral songs, of negroes, 302f.

Futurism, 440, 442.

G

Gadski, Johanna, 145, 147.

Gale, Clement R., 357.

García, Manuel (in New York), 118f.

Garden, Mary, 152.

Gatti-Casazza, Giulio, 152ff.

Gaynor, Jessie, 355.

Georgia, early concerts in, 82.

Gericke, William, 190f.

German choral societies, (in New York) 209f;
in the west, 215f;
(general) 218.
See also German musical societies.

German influence on American music, x-ff, 22, 215f, 233f, 243ff, 360ff, 369;
(modern) 420, 422, 435f, 440f, 449;
in early Boston, 236.

German musical societies, in early New York, 97.

German opera, in New York, 131ff;
in the United States, 159ff.

Germania orchestra (Boston), 188f.

Gerster, Etelka, 137, 160.

Gerville-Réache, Jeanne, 152.

Getty, Alice, 406.[Pg 476]

Gibbons, Orlando, 4.

Gilbert, Henry F., 311, 408ff;
quot. on racial influence, 278.

Gilchrist, W. W., 357.

Gilibert, Charles, 148, 152.

Gilman, Lawrence, cited, 366, 368.

Gleason, Frederic Grant, 346.

Gluck, works of, in early American concerts, 62, 79, 80.

Goldmark, Rubin, 381.

Goodrich, Wallace, 208.

Goritz, Otto, 149.

Gottschalk, Louis Moreau, 307, 334f.

Gould, Nathaniel D., 242.

Gounod, influence of, on American church music, 356.

Grant, James Augustus, 298.

Grattan (Mrs.), 73.

Grau, Maurice, 142ff, 149, 175, 177.

Graupner, Gottlieb, 100, 207, 236.

Green, Joseph, quoted, 19.

Grétry, works of, in early American concerts, 62, 79, 81.

Griffes, Charles T., 442.

Grunn, J. Homer, 401.

Gualdo, Giovanni, 70.

H

Hackett, Karleton, cited, 169.

Hadley, Henry, 375ff, 462.

Hague, Eleanor, quoted, 312f.

'Hail Columbia' (national song), 324f.

Hale, Philip, on Toronto Choir, 219f;
cited, 390.

Hamerick, Asger, in America, 247.

Hamilton, Edward, 222.

Hammerstein, Oscar, 144, 151ff, 169, 179.

Hammond, William G., 355.

Hanby, B. R., 318.

Handel, works of, in early American concerts, 32ff, 37ff, 58ff, 62, 64ff, 70, 72f, 77, 80, 93ff.

Handel and Haydn Society (of Boston), 102f, 206ff.

Handel and Haydn Society (of early New York), 96.

Harris, Augustus, quoted, 146.

Harris, Charles K., 454.

Harris, Victor, 355.

Hartford, early concerts in, 62f.

Harvard University (music department of), 237f, 263.

Harvard Musical Association, 189, 203, 237f.

Haskell, M. A., quoted, 299.

Hattstaedt, John J., 254f.

Hawley, Charles B., 355.

Haydn, works of, in early American concerts, 38f, 41, 62f, 66f, 72f, 75, 80f, 96f.

Hearn, Lafcadio, cited, 299, 306.

Hebrew, operas in, 160.

Heckscher, Celeste, 404.

Hempel, Frieda, 155.

Henderson, W. J., cited, 144;
quoted, 186.

Hendricks, Francis, 442.

Henius, Joseph, 393.[Pg 477]

Hensel, Heinrich, 155.

Henschel, George, in America, 190.

Herbert, Victor, 154ff, 197, 447f, 460.

Herbert-Förster, 141.

Hertz, Alfred, 149, 153.

Hess, Willy, 204.

Heyman, Katherine Ruth, 406.

Higginson, Henry L., 190.

Higginson, Thomas Wentworth, quoted, IV. 303.

Hill, Edward Burlingame, 388ff.

Hill, Uriah C., 181, 183, 202.

Hodgkinson, Francis, 111.

Hodgkinson, John, 90.

Holden, Oliver, works of, IV. 52-53.

Holyoke, Samuel, 52f.

Homer, Louise, 148.

Homer, Sidney, 435f.

Hone, Philip, 122.

Hopekirk, Helen, 405.

Hopkinson, Francis, 46ff, 69, 71, 85.

Hopkinson, Joseph, on origin of 'Hail Columbia,' 324f.

Howland, William Legrand, 396.

Hughes, Rupert, cited, 337, 342, 353, 405, 433f, 459.

Huhn, Bruno, 355.

Hull, Alexander, 440f.

Humiston, W. H., 311, 430f.

Huss, Henry Holden, 348f.

Hutchinson (Colonel), cited, 13.

Hymnology, American, x, 332f.
See also Church music; Psalmody.

I

Ide, Chester, works of, 400.

Incas. See Peruvians.

Indians (American), primitive music of, 281;
(in American music) xi-ff, 2f;
(used by American composers) 365, 394f, 410ff, 417, 424ff, 434, 443, 448.
See also Primitive Music in General Index (Vol. XII).

'Indian' song, in 'popular' music, 455.

Indian Suite (MacDowell), 366f.

[d']Indy, cited, 429.

Institute of Musical Art (New York), 256ff.

Instrumental music, forbidden by Puritans, 18f;
beginnings of, in New England, 24ff, 32ff.
See also Concerts, Orchestral organizations, Chamber music ensembles.

Instruments (primitive), of negroes, 296.

Irish influence on music in America, 22.

'Irish' song, in 'popular' music, 455.

Isaacs, Lewis M., 442.

Italian influence on music in America, xi.

Italian opera in early America, 104, 110;
in New York City, 117ff;
in the U. S., 158ff.

Italian Symphony Orchestra (New York), 188.

J

Jacchia, Agide, 157.

Jackson, L. J., 263f.

Jadlowker, Hermann, 155.

James, Philip, 358f.

Johns, Clayton, 353.

Johnson, [Dr.] Samuel (quoted), 202.

Jones, Darius E., 242.

Jones, John, 65.

Jordan, Eben D., 172, 249.

Jörn, Carl, 153.

Journet, Marcel, 148f.

K

Kahn, Otto H., 155f.

Kansas City (orchestra in), 199.

Kaun, Hugo, 449.

Kelley, Edgar Stillman. See Stillman-Kelley.

Kellogg, Clara Louise, 159.

Kelly, Earl of. See Erskine, Thomas Alexander.

Kentucky mountaineers, folk-songs of, 313f.

Kernochan, Marshall, 437.

Key, Francis Scott, 325f.

Kimball, Jacob (Jr.), 52f.

Kneisel Quartet, 204.

Knoch, Ernst, 157.

Koemmenich, Louis, 212.

Korn, Clara A., 405.

Kramer, A. Walter, 441f.

Krehbiel, H. E., on opera in early America, 104;
cited, 128, 146, 457;
on folk-songs, 283, 285, 288ff, 305f, 316ff.

Kreider, Noble, 419f.

Kriens, Christian, 401.

Kroeger, E. R., 311, 379f.

Kunwald, Ernst, 195.

Kurt, Melanie, 155.

L

La Forge, Frank, 354f.

Labor songs of negroes, 298.

Lambord, Benjamin, 420ff.

Lambord Choral Society, 213.

Lang, Henry, 400.

Lang, Margaret Ruthven, 343.

Langdon, William Chauncey, 226ff.

Law, Andrew, 52f.

Lehmann, Lilli, 140, 142f, 147.

Light opera. See Comic opera.

Lipkowska, Lydia, 155.

Liszt, influence of, in America, 362.

Litchfield County Choral Union, 223ff.

Loeb, James, 257.

Loeffler, Charles Martin, 444ff.

Longy Club of Boston, 204f.

Loomis, Harvey Worthington, 413ff.

Los Angeles (Cal.), opera in, 173f.

Love, Charles, 64.

Love songs of negroes, 299, 306f.

Luders, Gustav, 461f.

Lund, John, 139.

Lutkin, P. C., 253f.[Pg 479]

Lyon, James, 46, 48f.

Lyricists, American. See Song-writers.

M

McCormack, John, 153.

McCoy, William J., 396f.

MacDowell, Edward, 225, 267, 281, 362ff.

MacDowell Chorus (New York), 213.

MacDowell Festival (Peterboro, N. H.), 225f.

MacDowell Memorial Association, 225.

Macfarlane, Will C., 357.

McGill University (Toronto), 260f.

McGuckin, Barton, 141.

McLean, John, 70.

Madrigal (in England), 5.

Maguire, Hugh, 234.

Mahler, Gustav, in America, 150f, 153, 184.

Mallet (Mr.), 62.

Manchester, Arthur L., 262.

Manhattan Opera House (New York), 144, 151ff.

Manney, Charles Fonteyn, 401.

Manning, Edward, 354.

Mapleson, James H., 135, 137f, 139, 146f, 159, 168.

'Marching through Georgia,' 329.

Maretzek, Max, 127, 128ff.

Marsh, J. B. T., quoted, 308f.

Marston, George W., 343, 357.

Martinelli, Giovanni, 155.

Martini, works of, in early American concerts, 66f, 69, 75, 79.

Maryland, early music in, 80ff.

'Maryland, My Maryland,' origin of, 327.

Marzo, Eduardo, 358.

Mascagni, Pietro, in America, 148.

Mason, Daniel Gregory, 385ff.

Mason, Lowell, 52ff, 239ff, 245f.

Mason, William, 203, 344f.

Massachusetts Musical Society, 102.

Materna, Amalia, 138.

Mather, Cotton, cited, 19, 21.

Matzenauer, Margarete, 155.

Mearns, John, 75.

Melba, Nellie, 144, 147, 151.

Melodramatic music (first American), 90.

Mendelssohn, Felix, on music conservatories, 248.

Mendelssohn Quintet Club, 203f.

'Messiah' (Handel), early performance in New York, 65, 96.

Metcalfe, James W., 355.

Metropolitan Opera House (organization and history of), 136ff.

Mexico, folk music of, 312f.

Mildenberg, Albert, 395f.

Milton, cited, 12.

Milwaukee, choral societies of, 216.

Minneapolis, opera in, 173f.

Minneapolis Symphony Orchestra, 198.

Minstrelsy. See Negro minstrelsy.

Mittelberger, Gottlieb, cited, 68.[Pg 480]

Modern Music Society of New York, 213, 421f, 432.

Montressor, 121.

Moodie, John W. D., cited, 290.

Moore, Mary Carr, 405.

Moravian settlement (Bethlehem, Pa.), 214, 233f.

Mordkin, Mikail (dancer), 154.

Morley, Thomas, cited, 5.

Mozart, works of, in early American concerts, 39, 66, 80, 95ff.

Muck, Karl, 191.

Municipal music, xviii-f, 272ff.

Music festivals in America, 220ff;
(musical convention) 244.
See also Pageants.

Music publishing, early English, 14;
early American, 27ff.

Music teachers, licensing of, viii.

Music Teachers' National Association, 271.

Musical Art Society of New York, 212.

Musical Colleges. See Conservatories.

Musical comedy (English) in America, 178, 462f;
(American) 463.

Musical convention. See Music festivals.

Musical Education, American, vii-viii, xv-ff, 87, 230ff.

Musical societies. See Musical organizations.

Musical Fund Society, 93, 96f.

Musical organizations, early American, 82, 84ff;
American (instrumental), 181ff.
See also Choral societies.

N

National Conservatory of Music (New York), 255f.

National Opera Company, 141.

National songs, American, 321ff.

Nationalism (in American music), vi, 277ff, 365, 407ff.

Nationalists (school of American composers), 407ff.

Negro folk-song, 10f, 284ff, 451;
in American composition, xi-ff, 365, 409f, 413, 416, 430ff, 442ff, 450.
See also 'Coon song.'

Negro minstrelsy, rise of, 314ff.

Neidlinger, W. H., 353f.

Nelson, Dora, 193, 254.

Nevin, Arthur, 424f.

Nevin, Ethelbert, 349ff.

New England, influence of, on music in America, 1-2;
early music of, 11ff, 22ff;
attitude of, toward music, 44f;
early musical societies of, 97ff;
choral societies in, 214;
early music in, 232f, 236ff, 332f.

New England Conservatory (Boston), 247ff.

New Haven (Conn.), early concerts in, 62f.

New Jersey, early concerts in, 68.

New Orleans, early music in, 42;
early opera in, 114ff;
[Pg 481]opera in, 161ff.

Newport (R. I.), early concerts in, 62f;
St. Cæcilia Society of, 101.

New York City, public concerts, xviii;
early music in, 36ff;
early public concerts, 63ff, 83;
early musical societies, 88ff;
opera in (early) 104, 106ff, 116, (recent) 117ff;
orchestral organizations of, 181ff;
chamber music in, 202ff;
choral societies, 208ff;
music festivals, 223;
music in public schools, 242, 271;
conservatories, 255ff;
municipal music in, 273ff;
N. Y. group of composers, 347f.

New York Choral Society, 93ff.

New York Sacred Music Society, 95f.

Niblo, William, 126f, 129ff.

Nicolini, 138.

Niemann, Albert, 141.

Nikisch, Arthur, 190f.

Nilsson, Christine, 133, 136.

Noble, T. Tertius, 357.

Nordica, Lillian, 138, 142f, 147, 152.

Norris, Homer, 437f.

Northwestern School of Music, 253f.

Notation, 27ff.

O

Ober, Margarete, 155.

Oberhoffer, Emil, 198.

Oberlin Conservatory, 247, 251f.

'Occupational' songs (of negroes), 297.

Offenbach, Jacques, in America, 134.

Oldberg, Arne, 373ff.

Opera, in England, 14;
beginnings of, in America, 104ff;
in New York City, 117ff;
popular-price, in N. Y., 155;
in the United States, 158ff.
See also Opera, American; Opera in English.

Opera, American, (first) 112;
(early) 333ff;
(first to be prod. in Met. Opera House, N. Y.) 154;
(A. Nevin) 424f;
(Herbert) 447f.

Opera, Comic. See Comic opera.

Opera, English. See English opera.

Opera in English (in New York), 141ff, 145, 148, 155ff;
(in Philadelphia) 168.
See also Musical comedy.

Oratorio, first heard in Boston, 61;
in early Philadelphia concerts, 73f;
in early New York, 96;
in early Boston, 99;
in Chicago, 216f.

Oratorio Society of New York, 210ff.

Orchestral organizations in the United States, 181ff.

Orchestras, early New York, 92, 120.

Organ (Brattle), first in New England, 19.

Organizations. See Musical organizations.

Ornstein, Leo, 442.

Orpheus Club (Philadelphia), 85f.

Osgood, George L., 249.[Pg 482]

P

Page, Nathaniel Clifford, 399.

Pageants, xix, 226ff, 412.

Paine, John Howard, 114.

Paine, John Knowles, xii, 262, 336f.

Palma, John, 68f.

Palmo, Ferdinand, 125f.

Park Theatre (early New York), 118, 123ff.

Parker, Gilbert, 226.

Parker, Horatio W., 155, 265ff, 340ff, 357.

Parker, H. T., on Toronto Choir, 220.

Parker, James C. D., 343.

Parks, Edna R., 355.

'Parsifal' (Wagner), first American performance of, 149f.

Patriotic songs (American), 321ff, 452.

Patti, Adelina, 133, 137, 139, 141ff, 160, 163, 166, 171.

Paur, Emil, 184, 191, 197.

Pavlova, Anna (dancer), 154.

Peabody Institute, 247.

Pelissier, Victor, 112f.

Pelosi, Vincent M., 75.

People's Symphony Orchestra (New York), 187.

Perlet, Herman, 398f.

Pfitzner, Hans, cited, 429.

Pflueger, Carl, 462.

Philadelphia, early music in, 36, 38ff, 234f;
early public concerts, 68ff, 83;
early musical societies, 85, 87f;
early opera, 108, 110ff;
opera, 164ff;
orchestra, 199ff;
choral societies, 213;
pageant (of 1912), 228.

Philadelphia Symphony Orchestra, 199f.

Philharmonic Society of New York, 181ff.

Pianoforte, first in New England, 32.

Pianoforte music, American (treatment), 419.

Piccolomini, Maria, 133.

Pike, Thomas, 77.

Pilgrims, 19.
See also Puritans.

Pittsburg, orchestral organizations of, 195ff.

Plançon, Pol, 144, 147.

Pleyel, works of, in early American concerts, 35, 41, 62f, 66f, 72f, 79, 81.

Polyphony in early English music, 4.

Ponte, Lorenzo da, in America, 121ff, 127.

'Popular' music in America, 2, 451ff, 464.
See also Negro folk-song.

'Popular-price' opera. See Opera, popular.

Portland, Me., early concert in, 101;
music festivals in, 223.

Powell, John, works of, 431f.

Pownall (Mrs.), 74f, 80.

Pratt, John Harradan, 399.

Pratt, Silas G., 346.

Price (first professional musician in New England), 24.[Pg 483]

Prouty, Elijah K., 244.

Providence (R. I.), early concerts in, 62f, 101.

Prynne, quoted, 13.

Psalmody, early New England, 13ff, 25ff, 332f.

Public Schools, American music in, xii, 240ff, 270ff.

Pulitzer, Joseph, 184.

Purcell, Henry, composition by, in early New York concert, 64.

Puritans, 11ff;
influence of, on American music, 1f, 22f, 333.

R

Racial influence (in music), 277ff.

'Ragtime,' in 'popular' music, 454ff;
in musical plays, 463.

'Railroad songs' (of negroes), 298.

Read, Samuel, 52f.

Redding, Joseph D., 399.

Reinagle, Alexander, 66f, 72, 74, 81;
and early Philadelphia opera, 111.

Religious songs, of negroes, 299ff.

Renaud, Maurice, 152.

Reszke, Jean de, 143f, 146f.

Revere, Paul (as music engraver), 29.

Rhythm, in negro folk-song, 289ff.

Rice, J. B., 169ff.

Rice, W. D. ('negro' comedian), 314f.

Riker, Franklin, 355.

Ritter, Frederic Louis, on early American music, 2, 22;
cited, 32f, 37;
quoted, 50, 52, 89, 92ff, 102, 112f, 120f;
on German choral societies, 216.

Rivafinoli, Chevalier, 122.

'Robin Hood' (de Koven), 176, 179, 458f.

Rochester (N. Y.), 'community chorus' in, xix.

Rogers, James H., 355.

Romantic school, in American music, xii, xiv, 360ff.

Rooke, William Michael, 124.

Root, George F., 222, 246;
patriotic songs of, 329.

Roper, Virginia, 406.

Rowe, John, quoted, 59, 110.

Rübner, Cornelius, 267.

Rummel, Walter Morse, 448f.

Russell, Alexander, 439f.

Russell, Henry, 172f.

Russell, Lillian, 178.

Russian influence, on American music, xiv.

Russian Symphony Society of New York, 187f.

S

Sabin, Wallace, 398.

Sacchini, works of, in early American concerts, 74, 79.

Sacred music, early American societies for cultivation of, (New York) 95f, (Boston) 102.
See also Church music; also Oratorio.

Safonoff, Wassili, 184.[Pg 484]

St. Paul (Minn.), orchestra, 198.

St. Louis (Mo.), orchestra in, 199;
choral societies, 216;
pageant (1914), 227.

St. Denis, Ruth, cited, 434.

St. Cæcilia Society, of Newport, 101.

St. Cecilia Society, of (early) New York, 88f.

St. Cecilia Society, of Charleston, 41, 77ff, 86.

Salem (Mass.), early concerts in, 62f.

'Salome' (Strauss) perf. in New York, 150, 153.

Salter, Mary Turner, 405f.

Sanders, W. D., 253.

San Francisco, opera, 158ff, 173f;
orchestras, 199;
choral societies, 217;
composers, 396ff.
See also Bohemian Club of San Francisco.

Sankey, Ira D., 245.

Savage, Henry W., 137, 147ff.

Savannah (Ga.), early music in, 42, 82.

Scales, in negro music, 289, 291ff.

Scandinavian singing societies (of America), 218.

Scheff, Fritzi, 148.

Schelling, Ernest, 450.

Schindler, Kurt, 213, 449f.

Schlesinger, Daniel, 97.

Schmidt, J. H., 68.

Schnecker, P. J., 358.

Schneider, Edward F., 397f.

Schoenefeld, Henry, 311, 346, 433f.

Schola Cantorum (New York) 212f.

Schools. See Public schools and Conservatories.

Schott, Anton, 138.

Schroeder-Hanfstängel, Marie, 138.

Schuch, Ernst von, in America, 147f.

Schumann, Elisabeth, 155.

Schumann, Robert, influence of, in America, 361.

Schumann-Heink, Ernestine, 147, 152.

Scotch influence, on American music, 22.

Scotti, Antonio, 148.

Seattle (Wash.) Symphony Orchestra, 199.

Secular music, beginnings of, in America, 33, 46ff, 54.

Seidl, Anton, 140, 145f, 183.

Seidl-Krauss, Auguste, 138, 140.

Seiffert, Max, cited, 5.

Selby, William, 59ff.

Sembrich, Marcella, 137.

Severn, Edmund, 401f.

Sewall, Samuel, quoted, 16f.

Shapleigh, Bertram, 402.

Sharp, William, Edward MacDowell compared to, 364.

Shaw, David T., and 'Columbia,' 326.

Sheafe, William, 57.

Shelley, Harry Rowe, 357f.

Shepherd, Arthur, 417ff;
cited, 429.

'Shouting' (of negroes), 304.

Sight-reading (in 17th cent.), 5f;
[Pg 485]in early New England, 16.

Singing, congregational, in early New England, 15ff.

Singing schools, formation of, in early New England, 25ff;
early American, 232ff.
See also Choral societies.

Singing societies. See Choral societies.

Slaves, music of. See Negro folk-song.

Sleeper, Henry Dike, on music in colleges, 261.

Slezak, Leo, 155.

Smith, David Stanley, 387f.

Smith, Gertrude Norman, 404.

Smith, John Stafford, 325.

Smith, Samuel F. (author of 'America'), 324.

Smith, Wilson L., 352f.

Social centres, xviii-f.
See also Municipal music.

Societies. See Choral societies; Musical organizations; Orchestral organizations.

Soldene, Emily, in America, 175f.

Song-writers (American), 349ff, 362ff, 408ff.

Sonneck, Oscar G., cited, 36, 39f, 47ff, 56, 64, 68, 76f, 82, 89f, 98, 101, 104;
quoted, 323f.

'Sorrow songs' (of negroes), 297f, 302f.

Sousa, John Philip, 460f.

South (the), early music in, 9ff;
early concerts in, 40ff, 76ff;
attitude of, toward music, 44;
early professional musicians in, 45;
early opera in, 106, 108;
music festivals in, 223.

Southwest, music in the, 10.

Spaeth, Sigmund, cited, 12.

Spanish opera, in New York, 139.

Spanish-American folk-songs, 312f.

Speaks, Oley, 355.

Spirituals (of negroes), 301f, 304.

Spross, Charles Gilbert, 355.

Stamitz, Johann, works of, in early American concerts, 38, 63, 66f, 69, 75, 79, 81.

Stanley, Albert A., 268.

Stanton, Edmund C., 140.

'Star Spangled Banner,' 325ff.

Stearnes, Henry V., 400.

Stephens, Ward, 355.

Stewart, Humphrey J., 397.

Stillman-Kelley, Edgar, 368ff, 462.

Stock, Frederick A., 192.

Stoeckel, Carl, 224.

Stokowski, Leopold, 200.

Stoughton Musical Society, 97ff.

Stover, Charles B. (N. Y. Park commissioner), 274f.

Strakosch, Maurice, 132f, 171.

Strakosch, Max, 133ff.

Stransky, Josef, 184.

Strauss, Richard, 150;
influence of, on American music, 375f.

Stricklen, Edward G., 399.

Sullivan, [Sir] Arthur, comic operas of, in America, 175f, 179, 457.

Sunday School music, 245.

Symmes, [Rev.] Thomas, 16, 18, 21;[Pg 486]
on singing, 26f;
on 'singing by note,' 232f.

Symphony orchestras. See Orchestras; also Concerts.

Symphony Society of New York, 185ff.

Syncopation. See Ragtime.

T

Tamagno, Francesco, 142, 144.

'Tannhäuser,' first performance of, in New York, 145.

Tansur, works of, printed in America, 29f, 45.

Taylor, Deems, 442, 462.

Teaching. See Music Teachers; Public schools; Conservatories; Colleges.

Ternina, Milka, 148f.

Tetrazzini, Luisa, 152.

Thackeray, cited, 316.

Theatre (American), beginnings of, 104ff.

Thomas, Theodore, 140f, 168, 171, 183, 185, 191f, 193, 203, 222.

Thompson, Vance, cited, 351.

Thorne, G., 462.

Thurber, Jeannette M., 255.

Tietjens, Teresa, 134.

Toerge, George, 195.

Tombo, Rudolf, quoted, 262.

Tonality (in music of negroes), 289, 291ff.

Toronto Conservatory, 259f.

Toronto Mendelssohn Choir, 218ff.

Toscanini, Arturo, 153.

Tourjée, Eben, 248.

Trajetta, Filippo, 111, 236.

Trentini, Emma, 152, 179.

Troyer, Carlos, 442f.

Tschaikowsky, influence of, on American music, 362.

Tuckey, William, 30, 37, 39f, 64f, 233.

Tufts, John, 27ff.

U

Ullman, Bernard, 132f.

Universities, musical courses in, 261ff.

University of Michigan, music department of, 268.

University of Pennsylvania, music course in, 261.

University of Wisconsin, music department of, 268f.

Uranian Academy, 73, 87f.

Urlus, Jacques, 155.

V

Van Buren, Alicia, 406.

Vaudeville, influence of, on popular music, 453f.

Verdi, operas of, in America, 142.

Viennese operetta in America, 179.

Violin playing (among negroes), 297.[Pg 487]

Viols, in England, 5f;
in America, 9.

Virginia, in 17th cent. 6ff;
early public concerts, 42, 82;
early musical societies, 87;
early opera, 108.

Vogt, A. S., 218ff, 259.

Vogt, Theodore, 399.

Volpe, Arnold, 188.

Voltaire, quoted, 356.

Von Hagen, 78.

W

Wachtel, Theodore, 159.

Wagner, 145f, ('Parsifal' in N. Y.) 149f;
influence of, in America, 360ff, 370f, 424.

Walker, Caroline Holme, songs of, 406.

Wallaschek, Richard, cited, 288.

Waller, Henry, 462.

Walter, Thomas, cited, 17, 21, 28.

Ward, Frank Edwin, 358f, 393f.

Ward-Stephens, 355.

Ware, Harriet, 403f.

Warren, Mercy (author of early patriotic song), 321f.

Washington, Booker T., quot. 298.

Washington, George, concert in honor of, 33f;
quoted, 79.

Watt, Isaac, 29.

Wa-Wan Press, xii.

Webb, George J., musical activities, 188.

Weil, Hermann, 155.

Weingartner, Felix, in America, 184, 186.

Weiss, Arthur, 399.[Pg 488]

Wellesley College, 264f.

West, orchestral organizations in, 197ff.

White, Charles (negro minstrel), 316.

White, Richard Grant, quot. 202.

Whitelocke, Balustrode, cited, 13.

Whiting, Arthur, 347f, 357.

Whiting, George, 343.

Whitmer, T. Carl, 428f.

Williams, Aaron, 30, 45.

Winslow, on early New England music, 15.

Women composers (American), 402ff, 438f.

Woodbridge, William C., on music in the public schools, 240f.

Woodman, R. Huntington, 355.

Worcester (Mass.), 31;
choral society, 214;
music festival, 221f.

Work, Henry Clay, 286, 320f, 329.

Worrell, Lola Carrier, 406.

Wright, Louise Drake, 406.

Y

Yale University, music department in, 265ff.

'Yankee Doodle,' 322f.

Z

Zerrahn, Carl, 189;
conductor of music festivals, 222.
Ziegfeld, Florens, 252.