Fuller Maitland Schumann 1884

C|je (great iHuStriang

Edited by Francis Huefkkr

SCHUMANN

Br

J. A. FULLER-MAITLAND.

NEW YORK

SCRIBNER AND WELFORD
1884

Uniform with this Volume , price 3s. each.

THE GEE AT MUSICIANS

A SERIES OF BIOGRAPHIES

XDITBD BT

FRANCIS HUEFFER.

MOZART.

HANDEL.
MENDELSSOHN.
HAYDN
BERLIOZ.*
BEETHOVEN.*
CHURCH COMPOSERS.

* In Preparation.

WAGNER.

WEBER.

SCHUBERT.

ROSSINI.

PURCELL.

BACH.

ENGLISH

TO

MADAME CLAEA SCHUMANN

THE FOLLOWING IMPERFECT SKETCH OF HER HUSBAND’S LIFE

fa Srtuatdl,

WITH DEEPEST RESPECT AND GRATITUDE.

PREFACE.

Those who expect to find in the following pages a
complete and exhaustive life of Robert Schumann must
of necessity be disappointed. The time for writing
such a life is not yet come; while so many of the
composer's most intimate friends and relations are still
living, much must needs be left unsaid. Not that
there was any action of his life which would not bear
the closest scrutiny, but certain circumstances, and in
particular those which darkened the close of his career,
must for the present be hinted at rather than described.

Nor can the present sketch lay claim to any impor¬
tant accession of new material to that which has been
already published in the German lives of the master.
For several details which clear up one or two points
where the existing lives are at variance, and for some
of the anecdotes, the author is indebted to the kind¬
ness of Madame Schumann, Herr Joachim, and others;
but the bulk of the book cannot boast of much origin¬
ality, since it is mainly based on the work of others.

Among the biographies of Schumann, Wasielewski's
stands first; with regard to all the facts of the com¬
poser's life, it is absolutely reliable, and is also valuable
as being founded in great part on personal recollection.
The analyses of the compositions are exceedingly good,
—in the original German at least, for in the English
translation many of them are omitted or curtailed.
The second life in order of publication was that of

PREFACE.

vi

August Keissmann, who, like his predecessor, devotes
much attention to the compositions, without adding
much to what was already known concerning the
master’s life. A valuable element in his book is the
complete catalogue of Schumann’s works in chrono¬
logical order, upon which the list at the end of this
book is founded. The careful and interesting article
contributed to Grove’s “ Dictionary of Music and
Musicians,” by Dr. Philipp Spitta, which has since
been republished in its original German, rather supple¬
ments than supplants Wasielewski’s work; it contains
much new matter, and is of the greatest value to the
student of Schumann’s life. Mr. Hueffer’s “ Music of
the Future” contains an article of great interest on
Schumann, and, what is still more valuable, a collection
of letters addressed by the composer to Anton von
Zuccalmaglio, or rather translations from these docu¬
ments, which are in Mr. Hueffer’s possession. One of
the most important additions to the Schumann literature
has been lately published. “ Die Davidsbimdler,” by
F. Gustav Jansen (Leipzig : Breitkopf and Hartel), is
a collection of sketches rather than a life of the master ;
but his figure is presented to us far more vividly than
in any of the lives, properly so called. Many interesting
anecdotes and personal recollections by some of his
most intimate friends are given; and though the book
modestly professes to be a study of the earlier part
only of Schumann’s life, it is much more than this, for
numbers of hitherto unpublished letters, ranging over
a very considerable portion of his career, are inserted,
as well as some very interesting sketches of those who
came into the closest contact with the composer.

CONTENTS

CHAPTER I.

The Twenty Years* War

CHAPTER II.

The Artist’s Development

CHAPTER III.

The Shadow of Death .

CHAPTER IY.

The Pianoforte Works ....

CHAPTER Y.

Songs, Concerted and Orchestral Works

CHAPTER VI.

Choral, Narrative, and Dramatic Works

CHAPTER VII.

PAOV

1

. 13

27

47

. 63

. 85

Schumann the Critic

101

Vlll

CONTENTS,

CHAPTER VIII.

PAG*

Schumann and his Critics. 122

Chronological Table of Robert Schumann’s Life and

Works. . .. 137

i

Index , . 147

EOBEET SCHUMANN.

CHAPTER I.

THE TWENTY YEARS* WAR.

1810—1830.

“ My whole life has been a twenty years* war between prose
and poetry—between law and music.**

Schumann's letter to his mother , 1830.

Interesting as it is, in beginning a musical biography,
to trace the artistic faculty back through generations of
highly-gifted ancestors, and to establish the position
that genius, like insanity, is hereditary, there are many
cases where it is impossible to do this. In some
instances, as notably in that of the Bach family,
musical ability was a second nature to every scion of
the house, so that to be a Bach was to be a musician.
Theirs was an exceptional, not to say unique, case in
the history of music. It is not uncommon to find, that
among the progenitors of a composer there have been
individuals who had a liking for music, or even a
more decided taste for it. In the Schumann family
however, no musical ancestor has been discovered by

2

EGBERT SCHUMANN.

any of his biographers, and we may take it for granted
that no such existed.

The composer's father, Friedrich August Gottlob
Schumann (born 1773), was the son of a clergyman in
Saxony, Friedrich Gottlob Schumann by name, who
designed for his son a commercial career. After a long
and wearisome period of tutelage, August Schumann
determined to abandon the idea of a mercantile life,
and to adopt a profession more congenial to his literary
tastes; these were by no means small, and they had been
fostered during a short period of study at the university
of Leipzig, where a situation in a commercial establish¬
ment had been obtained by him. One Heinse, a
bookseller, offered him a subordinate place in his
employ, and Schumann accepted the situation, as
affording him the opportunity of learning the trade
that he wished to adopt, and also of improving his
knowledge and culture in the atmosphere of books.
Here he became acquainted with the daughter of the
chief surgeon of Zeitz, Johanna Christiana Schnabel,
who afterwards became his wife. Before the marriage
could take place, it was necessary for Schumann to
found a firm of his own; in order therefore to procure
the requisite capital, he returned to business, went into
partnership, in the year 1795 with a merchant of
Nonnaburg, and soon afterwards was in a position to
marry and set up as a bookseller. He now took one
of his brothers into partnership, and established the
firm of t( Schumann Brothers," which lasted from 1808
till 1840, in the Saxon town of Zwickau.

Neither * he nor his wife seems to have had any
remarkable love of, or aptitude for, the art to which

THE TWENTY YEARS* WAR.

3

they were the means of giving so distinguished an
ornament. All that is on record concerning August
Schumann’s literary attainments is that he had a
decided love of the belles lettres, being especially fond
of the poems of Milton and Young, and that he pub¬
lished translations of Byron’s “ Childe Harold ” and
“ Beppo.” He also wrote some treatises on commercial
and other subjects, which obtained a certain degree of
celebrity.

The mother seems to have been a person of an emi¬
nently practical disposition; though entirely lacking
in imagination, she was much addicted to that kind
of romantic sentimentality which is only found to
perfection in minds of a thoroughly common-place
type.

Four children, Edward, Karl, Julius, and Emilie,
were born to the Schumanns before the birth of Robert
Alexander, which took place on June 8, 1810, in the
house at Zwickau, No. 5, on the market-place. The
youngest survived the rest, the sister dying in her
twentieth year in a condition of nervous melancholy
which bordered closely on insanity.

From his father Robert Schumann seems to have
inherited, together with a certain delicacy of constitu¬
tion, his keenness of perception, imaginative nature,
and sensitive disposition; while his mother’s predilec¬
tions may be held responsible for her son’s romantic
tendencies.

His general education began in his sixth year at the
school of Archdeacon Dohner in his native town; his
first lessons in music were received in the following
year from one of the professors at the High School of

b 2

4

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

Zwickau, J. G. Kuntsch. As this teacher had risen
from a very low condition and was entirely self-taught,
we may conclude that his method was not all that
might have been desired; his pupil, however, conceived
an affection for him which lasted for many years, for in
1852 we find him writing to his old master of thirty-
five years before in terms of the highest esteem and
most grateful affection. It was at this time that he
began to amuse himself and his companions by giving
musical expression to their various peculiarities on
the piano. The extraordinary skill with which he
perceived their characteristics, to say nothing of the
musical ability that such a feat presupposes, shows
that even at this childish age his insight into human
nature must have been extraordinarily developed.

In the summer of 1819, his father took him to
Carlsbad, where he heard Moscheles play, an event of
which he preserved the liveliest recollection in after¬
life. When the boy was ten years old, he was entered
in the fourth class of the Zwickau Academy, where he
remained until 1828. Here he formed the first of his
many musical friendships with the son of a musician
named Piltzing, in whose society he explored the
great world of compositions of all schools, so far as
they were procurable by the boys, in the form of
pianoforte arrangements. In this, as in many similar
undertakings, the elder Schumann gave his son every
encouragement that lay in his power, laying in a stock
of standard compositions for the boy's benefit. The
discovery, among these last, of the orchestral parts of
Rightin's overture to “ Tigranes,” incited the friends to
form a small band for the performance of this work;

THE TWENTY YEARS* WAR.

5

and such of their schoolfellows as had a love of music
were at once enlisted in the project, the result being
that a performance took place under Robert’s direction,
who not only conducted, but filled in all the missing
parts on the piano. The entire strength of this first
orchestra of Schumann’s consisted of seven players—
two violins, two flutes, a clarionet, and two horns.
This inaugural meeting was followed by many similar
ones, at some, if not all of which, compositions by
Schumann himself were played to a small but appre¬
ciative audience, consisting solely of the boy’s father.
His appearances were not entirely limited, however, to
this very exclusive circle: when he was about eleven
years old he accompanied, standing up at the piano to
do so, at a public performance of Schneider’s “ Welt-
gericht,” which was conducted by Kuntsch. His fame
as a pianist and extempore player became known in
his native town, and his father, who, from having been
thwarted in his own choice of a profession in early life,
was well able to sympathize with his son’s artistic
desires, resolved, notwithstanding his wife’s remon¬
strances, to make a musician of him. With this object
in view, he wrote to C. M. von Weber, at that time
Capellmeister in Dresden, asking him to undertake
his son’s musical education. This Weber agreed to do,
but the project came to nothing; and the death of
August Schumann in 1825 put a stop to the idea of
Robert’s adopting the artistic life; for the prejudices
of the mother were now unopposed.

At this time the inordinately high spirits which
characterized his childhood forsook him gradually,
giving way to a melancholy disposition, from which

6

EGBERT SCHUMANN.

henceforth he never was entirely free. Doubtless the
change in his temperament was due in no small degree
to the absence of his father's encouragement in his
artistic developmeut. What he lacked at home w$s in
some measure made up for by the kindness and geniality
of a family with whom he became very intimate at this
time, that of Dr. Carus, who was afterwards professor
of medicine in the universities of Leipzig and Dorpat,
and whose wife, an enthusiastic lover of music, found
a congenial friend in Schumann. With this lady he
enjoyed, to use his own expression, “ perfect revels of
song;" he also made sundry experiments in song¬
writing on his own account.

At this, time he made his first acquaintance with the
writings of Jean Paul, and passed through a phase of
transcendentalism, writing a good deal of poetry and
setting it to music of his own. In March, 1828, the
mother, having found a partisan in Robert’s guardian,
a certain merchant named Rudel, determined to force
her son into the legal profession, and with that in¬
tent sent him off to Leipzig, where he matriculated as
studiosus juris. Through two former friends—Flechsig
and Semmel by name—he now became acquainted
with a fellow-student named Gisbert Rosen, with whom
he rapidly became very intimate, for he found that
Rosen thoroughly sympathized with him in his devoted
admiration of Jean Paul. In April, only a month
after his matriculation, when Rosen was quitting
Leipzig for Heidelberg, Schumann bore him company,
and invited him to stay at his own home, and after a
short visit the friends resumed their journey, Schumann
going only as far as Munich. The stay here was

THE TWENTY YEARS 5 WAR. 7

marked by a great event in the youth 5 s life, an intro¬
duction to Heine, who received the friends very kindly,
delighting them with his brilliant conversation. At
Augsburg, on his way to Munich, Schumann had a first
experience of the tender passion. His host in that
town, Dr. Kurrer, to whom the travellers had brought
a letter of ' introduction, had a pretty daughter called
Clara, and with this young lady Schumann fell at
once in love, in spite of the fact that she was already
engaged to be married. His passion seems to have
been of the most platonic and transcendental kind, for
the betrothed lover was cognizant of the affair through¬
out, and made no sort of objection. After the friends
had parted at Munich, and Schumann had gone back to
his books at Leipzig, he made frequent allusions to
the lovely Clara in his correspondence with Rosen, but
the flame soon burnt itself out.

At Leipzig, Schumann found that he could not alto¬
gether relinquish music and poetry for his studies : he
wrote to Rosen that he has “not been to a single
lecture, but has worked by himselfthis he explains
to mean that he has “played the piano and written
some Jean-Pauliads." His friends, the Caruses, having
by this time come to Leipzig, Schumann resumed his
old intimacy with them, and at their house had the
advantage of meeting many interesting people, chief
among whom were Marschner the composer, and, most
important for his future life, Friedrich Wieck, whose
pupil he soon afterwards became. No doubt he was
attracted to him, in part at least, by the extraordinary
playing of his elder daughter, named, like the romantic
• youth's first love, Clara. By this time, though she was

8

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

only nine years old, she had made such wonderful
progress under her father, as to warrant her appearing
in public; and two years afterwards, we hear of her
making a musical tour. Since the gifted lady is,
happily, still before the public to bear witness to the
excellence of her father's early training, we need not
doubt that Schumann profited to a very great degree
by his instructions, even though they were not of long
duration. For at Easter 1829, Schumann went to
Heidelberg, ostensibly to complete his legal studies,
but inwardly resolved to become a musician, should
any opportunity present itself. Under Wieck he had
devoted his energies entirely to the technique of the
art, neglecting his master's urgent advice that he
should improve his scanty theoretical knowledge; and
yet, in spite of his contempt for the science of music,
his favourite composers were not only Schubert, who
had just died, and in whose works Schumann and his
friends took a keen interest, but Bach, whose com¬
positions, one would think, would fire any one with
the necessary energy to undertake the scientific part of
musical study. During this phase he wrote some four-
hand Polonaises, a Quartet for piano and strings, and
some songs, all unpublished. In a little more than
a year from this time, after his technical acquirements
had been rendered useless by the accident which
turned the whole course of his artistic career, he
bitterly regretted having worked so exclusively at the
mechanical branch of the art, and wished that he had
the time over again to give to the theoretical studies
which he had neglected.

No doubt the move to Heidelberg was undertaken

THE TWENTY YEARS’ WAR.

9

in deference to his mother’s wishes, for she was
probably dissatisfied with the young student’s progress
in the law, and perhaps thought he would be less
exposed to temptations of a musical kind in a new
sphere. The chief purpose of his going cannot, as
some have thought, have been to renew his intimacy
with Rosen, for the latter’s time was finished, and it
was only by a piece of good fortune that he managed
to stay on in the university, and thus to resume his
interrupted intercourse with Schumann. In the transit
between the two universities, Schumann spent the
Easter holidays on visits to his relations at Zwickau
and Schneeberg, and in a letter written to Rosen from
the latter place we see that the many festivities given
by his friends in his honour succeeded in effacing to a
great extent the regrets which he felt at leaving
Leipzig. On May 2nd he started for Heidelberg, but
he was induced to make a detour, by the accidental
companionship of the poet Willibald Alexis, with whom
the impulsive youth was so charmed, that he went for
some distance down the Rhine in his company, and
thus did not reach Heidelberg or his friend till the
end of the month. The learned Thibaut undertook
the superintendence of Schumann’s studies, but poor
Pegasus would not work in harness; Schumann felt
an ever-increasing distaste for the learned profession
for which he was intended. Though Thibaut’s
lectures failed to inspire in him any reverence for the
study of jurisprudence, he was attracted by another
side of his teacher’s knowledge, for in after-years we
find him recommending to all young musicians the
frequent study of his quondam preceptor’s admirable

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

10

contribution to musical literature, the treatise “ On
Purity in Musical Art”—“Ueber Reinheit der Ton-
kunst." In a little time Thibaut had the wisdom to
perceive his pupil's true vocation, and to advise him
to embrace the musical profession. Not that it re¬
quired any wonderful degree of perspicacity to see
that Schumann could never make a good lawyer, for
he himself always expressed his dislike of the subject
with the utmost freedom. It must not be imagined
that he passed his time at Heidelberg in idleness; he
continued his study of the pianoforte technique with
the greatest diligence, and during the excursions that
he made in the neighbourhood with his friends Rosen
and Semmel, the latter of whom had come to the
university, much to Schumann's gratification, he took
a dumb keyboard in the carriage and practised five-
finger exercises constantly. It would seem that this
contrivance did him very little good, for in the advice
to young musicians, from which we have already
quoted, he advises the student to try such inventions
“ just to see how useless they are." The friends longed
to extend their travels, and to make a tour in North
Italy. When the summer vacation began, Schumann
wrote to his guardian, Rudel, to ask for the necessary
supplies, and for permission to go. Some difficulty
was at first made at home, for the young man had not
been particularly economical during his university life;
but ultimately permission was given, and he started;
his friends, however, failed him at the last moment,
and he had to go alone. The journey, which extended
as far as Venice, was by no means devoid of incident,
to judge from several letters to Rosen and to Therese,

THE TWENTY YEARS* WAR.

11

the wife of his eldest brother Eduard; in these, which
are given in Wasielewski*s life, we hear of a very
transient passion for a charming English girl whom
he met in Milan, and who presented him, at parting,
with a branch of cypress; of a dispute in a Venetian
restaurant with a gentleman of Hebrew extraction,
which, happily, was without serious consequences of
any kind; of a short attack of illness; and, more than
all else, of his first hearing Paganini.

On his return to Heidelberg, after some difficulties
with importunate creditors, he continued his piano
studies with renewed ardour; a new friend, a student
named Topken, being admitted to the circle of his
intimates. During this winter, too, he went into society
more than he had hitherto done, and was received
with open arms in the musical world of the place.
One public appearance, at which he played the
“Alexander Variations** of Moscheles, took place at
Heidelberg, but most of the invitations received by
him for public performances were refused.

Among the musical productions which date from
this time, are some of the pieces afterwards collected
into the work called “ Papillons,** the variations on
the name Abegg , and a good many sketches, one among
them being for the Toccata (op. 7), which was then
projected in D major. About this time Schumann
went to Frankfort, and heard Paganini again to his
great delight. The impression produced on him by the
great violinist resulted in the arrangement for the
pianoforte of his studies and caprices; and an agree¬
able episode, in the shape of a meeting with a young
lady named Meta Abegg, which took place at a ball

12

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

at Mannheim, was preserved in the variations on her
surname, as represented by the notes A, B flat, E,
Gr, Gr. On his return, since his chance of distinguishing
himself in the approaching law examination was very
small indeed, he resolved to induce his mother to
withdraw her objections, and to allow him to devote
himself to music. After some discussion with her and
his guardian, in which the mother took the view that
her son had not sufficient talent to ensure his artistic
success, the question was referred to Wieck. He
gave the answer that Schumann so eagerly hoped to
hear, and it was resolved, to his unspeakable joy, that
he should become a pianist by profession. He looked
forward to six years of hard work before he would
be fit to appear in public; but this was as nothing
compared with the tedious suspense of his life up to
this point, which, as he tells his mother in a letter
on the all-important subject, “had been a twenty
years' war between prose and poetry—betwen law and
music."

The war was now at an end; henceforward Schumann
lived for art alone.

THE ARTIST^ DEVELOPMENT.

13

CHAPTER II.

THE ARTIST’S DEVELOPMENT.

1830—1843.

“ Out of weakness made strong.”

In the .summer and autumn of 1830 Schumann’s
prospects, which in the event proved so illusory, were
at their brightest. With the dearest wish of his heart
realized, released from the obnoxious studies, and free
to follow that vocation for which he imagined that he
was best fitted, he saw himself on the threshold of a
glorious career, and felt that when he had once over¬
come those technical difficulties connected with the
pianoforte, which were as yet insuperable by him, he
would be ready to launch himself into the great world of
music. He determined to put himself in the hands of
his old teacher, Wieck, and with that object went
back to Leipzig, where he was fortunate enough
to obtain rooms in Wieck’s own house, Grimmaische
Gasse, No. 36. Here he remained until the autumn of
1832. He soon, however, became discontented with his
rate of progress, and fondly imagined that he could
arrive at the desired perfection by a royal road of his
own invention. He gave up his lessons with Wieck
and pursued his plan in entire secrecy. Though the

14

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

exact details of the invention were never revealed, it is
known what were its object and mode of operation.
In order to gain equality of strength and independence
in all the fingers, he fastened the third finger, the
weakest of all, in a strained position, and then prac¬
tised diligently with the others. When t}ie time came
for the release of the finger and the demonstration of
the success of the operation, he found to his horror
that the third finger was useless, and indeed that his
whole right hand, to which alone the invention had
been applied, was practically crippled. Every remedy
was tried, but in vain. For a long time he did not
give up hoping for a cure, and meanwhile he practised
assiduously with the left hand, in expectation of the
time when his right should be restored to him. This
recovery never took place, and it as well for music
that it was so, for in losing a pianist whose powers,
however great, could only have delighted his contempo¬
raries, the. art gained a composer, whose conceptions
will rejoice the hearts of all generations till the end
of time.

Though all his hopes of success as a virtuoso were
thus dashed to the ground, Schumann did not
lose courage, but, believing in his own powers as a
composer, determined to begin over again in a new
branch of art, and to pursue those theoretical studies
that he had once despised and disliked. His teacher
in composition was not Wieck, but Heinrich Dorn, who
was at that time conductor of the Leipzig opera. Under
him Schumann had to begin with the most elementary
studies, his first task being to harmonize a chorale in
four parts. He made rapid progress, and benefited

THE ARTIST'S DEVELOPMENT.

15

to the full by Dorn's instructions. The first-fruits of
his labour in the new profession were the “ Papillons,"
which he had begun in the previous year, and which he
now completed, dedicating them to his three sisters-in-
law, Therese, Rosalie, and Emilie, the last of whom
must not be confused with his own sister of the same
name, who had died before this. It was not until the
next year, 183i, that his right hand became so hope¬
lessly lame as to make it a matter of absolute certainty
that he would never be able to play, or at least to
become a public performer. What he felt concerning
this downfall of all his early hopes, just when the
difficulties that formerly stood in his way were over¬
come, we know from a letter written by him to his
friend Topken, on Good Friday, 1833, in which he
refers to the folly of striving after a perfection of
technique, which can only be acquired by long patience,
and not by artificial expedients. He says, “ we grasp
the handle so tightly that the vessel is shattered."
But still he makes light of the accident itself, and he
naively lets us into the secret of his comparative
indifference to the condition of his hand by alluding
to “ a great orchestral symphonyand from other
passages in the letter, which is given entire in the
original German of Wasielewski's life, we see that the
new artistic aspirations and ideals had by this time
begun to make up for the loss he had sustained.

In this year Schumann made his first attempt at
musical criticism. He had become acquainted with
Chopin's variations on “ La ci darem la mano," which
had just been published in Vienna as the composer's
Opus 2, and he thereupon wrote a somewhat fancifu

16

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

eulogy on the work, and sent it to the Allgemeine
Musikalisclie Zeitung , in which periodical it appeared,
much to the astonishment, no doubt, of the regular
readers of the paper; for a wilder, more rhapsodical
piece of writing, calling itself a musical criticism, never
was in this world before. The imaginary characters
of Florestan and Eusebius, who make their first ap¬
pearance in this article, and of whom more anon,
cannot have given much assistance to an uninitiated
public, desiring to understand and enter into the
sentiments of the writer concerning Chopin. The
article, which appears in vol. xxxiii., No 49 of the
paper, is re-published, and forms the first of the
collected writings of Schumann.

In the winter of 1832.-33 he paid visits to his rela¬
tions at Zwickau and Schneeberg, staying in the former
town for some time, and working hard at composition.
Besides the “ Intermezzos ” and the Paganini Caprices,
both of which date from this time, we hear of a
symphony in G minor, the first movement of which was
played both at Zwickau and Schneeberg during the
winter; the whole work was given in 1835 at Zwickau,
but it has never since been heard of by the world, nor
was it ever published. The first performance of the
opening movement *of the work in his native town took
place on an occasion most memorable to Schumann, for
it was at a concert given by Clara Wieck, who was
then thirteen years old. Schumann, as we may well
believe, was enraptured by her exquisite playing,
though of course he can scarcely have regarded her
with feelings of a wanner kind, considering her tender
age. In March, 1833, he returned to Leipzig, though

THE ARTIST’S DEVELOPMENT.

17

not to Wieck’s house : he took up his residence in a
house in Riedel’s garden. While here he seems to
have worked hard in the daytime, though not with
any teacher, and to have received his intimates in the
evenings, or joined their festive gatherings at the
“ Kaffeebaum ” restaurant; not that he was a very
sociable member of the company, for he generally sat
quite silently, taking or seeming to take little interest
in what was going forward. While he was in these
picturesque surroundings he completed the set of
studies after Paganini’s Caprices, the Toccata, re¬
modelled and transposed from D to C major, and
wrote a set of Impromptus on an air by Clara Wieck,
which were afterwards published as op. 5. In the au¬
tumn, probably because the weather made the garden-
house less to be desired than in the summer, he changed
his place of abode, and took lodgings in No. 21, Burg-
strasse, on the fourth story. Here the news of his
sister-in-law Rosalie’s death on October 17 reached him
and produced a severe attack of nervous mental excite¬
ment, during which he seems to have suffered exceed¬
ingly. It may be surmised that it was a foreshadowing
of the doom which was ultimately to obscure his mind,
for according to one account he made an attempt to
throw himself out of the window. However this may
be, it is certain that in after-life he had the greatest
objection to sleeping in a room on an upper floor.

At the end of this year several new friendships were
formed, chief amongst which were those with a painter
named Lyser and with Ludwig Schunke, a musician
of considerable talent, with whom Schumann speedily
became intimate.

c

18

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

These friends, together with some others, assisted
Schumann in projecting the musical periodical which
engrossed so much of his attention about this time.
In the preface to his collected works, he describes how
the young musical enthusiasts among whom he was
thrown agreed in deploring the existing state of music
in Germany. We hear how “the stage was ruled by
Rossini, and the pianoforte by Herz and Hiinten, almost
to the exclusion of every one else. And yet only a
few years had passed since Beethoven, Weber, and
Schubert lived amongst us.” One day the young en¬
thusiasts were struck with a bright idea : “ Let us no
longer look on idly, let us try to make things better,
so that the poetry of art may once more be duly
honoured.” Thus arose the first pages of the Nene
Zeit8chrift fur Musik. We must remember that at
this time the only musical criticism in Germany was
of the most futile kind. Silly, superficial admiration
of mediocrity—Schumann used to call it “ honey-
daubing” (“ Honigpinselei ”)—or contemptuous depre¬
ciation of what was new or unknown, these were the
order of the day in such of the journals as deigned to
notice music at all, and even in the Allgemeine Musi
kalische Zeitung the state of things was not much
better.

When the new literary venture was launched upon
the world—the first number appeared on April 3rd,
1834—Schumann was assisted in bringing it out by
Schunke before-mentioned, Friedrich Wieck, and a
clever man of letters, a certain Julius Knorr. It was
not until the summer of this year that they secured
the valuable help of Carl Banck, who came from Berlin

THE ARTISTES DEVELOPMENT.

19

at. this time, partly in order to take part in the new
scheme, and whose influence brought many admirable
contributors into the undertaking.

We must now introduce the reader to two female
friends of Schumann's, who exercised considerable in¬
fluence over him at this and subsequent periods. His
friend Schunke had introduced him to Frau Henriette
Voigt, the wife of a merchant in Leipzig, an accom¬
plished, cultivated lady, and altogether a friend after
Schumann's own heart. He found in her a spirit akin
to his own, and remained on terms of the greatest
intimacy with her until her early death in 1889. The
other friendship was of a more romantic kind, and was
also of much shorter duration. A young lady named
Ernestine yon Fricken had lately come to Leipzig, in
order to complete her study of the pianoforte under
Wieck, in whose house she, like Schumann before her,
took up her abode. If we may believe Wasielewski,
she had not any surpassing attractions, either physical
or intellectual, which would account for Schumann's
ardent affection for her, and we therefore need not
wonder that his love should have proved very transient,
especially when we remember that within a couple of
years from this time, he had conceived the real love of
his life, for her who was to him a faithful friend and a
devoted wife, as well as a keen sympathizer with all his
artistic ideals. .

For the sake of all students of Schumann's musical
and critical writings, it will be convenient in this
plaGe to give a complete list, so far as it is known, of
the various pseudonyms adopted by Schumann for him¬
self and his friends, as well as those used by his friends

c 2

20

BOBEBT SCHUMANN.

as noms de plume in their contributions to the paper.
Some of the names occur only in Schumann’s writings,
others only in his compositions, but it is most con¬
venient to give the entire list now.

“ Florestan ”

“ Eusebius *

“ Meister Raro ”

“ Jeanquirit ”

“ Serpentinus ”

“B.” . . .

« rj_v »»

“ Julius ”

“ Knif ”

“Jonathan ”

“ Fritz Friedrich ” .

“ Gottschalk Wedel”
“ Felix Mentis ” . .
“Walt” . .

:}

Schumann. The name represents the
turbulent and impulsive side of his
nature, full of imaginative activity.

Schumann. The character is an em¬
bodiment of the gentle, thoughtful,
and sensitive qualities in the com¬
poser.

Schumann. This character stands be¬
tween the two former, acting as
moderator in their frequent disputes,
and sometimes as judge, summing
up after their opposing criticisms
have been uttered. Tne name is
sometimes applied to F. Wieck.

Schumann. A name subscribed occa¬
sionally, but comparatively rarely,
to some criticisms written in a light
and humorous style.

Carl Banck

' Julius Knorr.

. Ludwig Schunke, sometimes Schumann.
Lyser the painter.

Anton von Zuccalmaglio.

. F. Mendelssohn-Bartholdy.

(?) The name occurs only once; it is taken
from Jean Paul’s “ Flegeljahre.”

^ Clara Wieck.

| Henrietta Voigt.

Ernestine von FrickeU.

Livia Gerhardt, a clever singer, wk<»
afterwards married Dr. Frege.

The leading spirits of the undertaking were accus¬
tomed to sign their contributions very often with.

“ Chiarina ”
“Zilia” .
“Cecilia”

“ Eleanore ”

“ Estrelle V
“ Giulietta

THE ARTIST^ DEVELOPMENT.

21

certain combinations of figures. The figure 1 indicates
that Knorr is the author; 2, 12, 22, 32, are adopted
by Schumann himself; 3 by Schunke; and 6, 16, 20,
&c., by Carl Banck.

These, with some kindred souls, among whom were
Berlioz and Chopin, were one and all, with or without
their knowledge, incorporated in a certain mystical
community of Schumann's own invention, familiar to
students of his compositions under the, name of the
“ Davidsbund." The bond of union in this society,
which, as Schumann himself tells us, “ existed only in
the head of its founder," was the determination to do
battle in the cause of musical progress against Philis¬
tinism in every form. The “Davidsbund” has been
well compared to the “ Pre-Raphaelite Brotherhood''
in England, and this comparison is perhaps the best
explanation that could be given of the aims and objects
of Schumann and his friends.

Of Schumann's own work as an author we shall have
occasion to speak more fully in a later chapter. So
much as this it was necessary to say concerning the
“ Davidsbund " and the Neue Zeitschrift, in order to
explain the constant references with which we shall
meet in the letters dating from this time.

The year which saw the projection and commencement
of the Neue Zeitschrift was, as we might expect, not
particularly rich in musical productions. But though
the works produced and sketched were small in quan¬
tity—the “ Etudes Symphoniques" were completed
and the “ Carnaval" begun—as far as quality is con¬
cerned they were surpassed by none of the composer’s
pianoforte works. Both compositions will be examined

22 ROBERT SCHUMANN.

in detail later. But we may remark in passing, that
both contain evidences which prove that he was, or
fancied himself, deeply in love with Mdlle. von Fricken
at the time when the works were composed. The
“Etudes” are written on a theme composed by
the lady’s father, and a very beautiful theme it
is; and the u Carnaval " contains, besides a little piece
supposed to represent her character, constant reference
to a phrase of four notes, which in their German
nomenclature spell the word Asch , the name of the little
village in Bohemia from which the fair one had come
to Leipzig. The second of these compositions was not
finished till the following year, by which time he had
sustained a loss which deeply affected him, his friend
Schunke having died of consumption in the winter,
while Schumann was on a visit to his relations at
Zwickau. In a letter to Joseph Fischhof, given by
Wasielewski, he informs him of Schunke's death in
words which show how much it affected him, and at
the same time he requests Fischhof to help him in the
conduct of the paper. Accordingly we find Fischhof
shortly . after this acting as Schumann's colleague,
although he lived at Vienna.

In October, 1835, the arrival of Mendelssohn in
Leipzig gave a new interest to Schumann's life. The
two great composers met for the first time on October
3rd, at the house of Friedrich Wieck, the day before
Mendelssohn conducted his first concert at the Gewand-
haus. Moscheles was also in Leipzig at the time, and
was present at the frequent meetings of which that
just mentioned was the first. During the next two or
three years the two artists were on terms of the greatest

THE ARTIST'S DEVELOPMENT.

23

cordiality. Schumann's feeling for Mendelssohn was
one of genuine and unbounded admiration, a feeling
which was by no means reciprocated, although Men¬
delssohn recognized in Schumann a kindred spirit so
far as artistic ideals were concerned. The opinions of
each concerning the other will be given when we come
to examine Schumann's relations with his critics, and
with those whom he criticized.

In was in the spring of the following year that he
began to regard Clara Wieck in another light than
that of a gifted artist, and to turn his wandering affec¬
tions in that direction from which they never after¬
wards swerved. In consequence of a long separation
from the object of his affection, while she was away on a
concert tour with her father, Schumann had no oppor¬
tunity of declaring his love, though he managed to
establish a correspondence through a friend and fellow-
worker on the paper, a certain August Kahlert, until
the summer of 1837, when his proposal, made to
Wieck, was received by no means favourably, although
it was not absolutely rejected. The father held that
the prospects of the young composer were not suffi¬
ciently certain to allow of his marrying. He may also
have cherished hopes of a more ambitious kind for his
daughter. In order to render his pecuniary circum¬
stances more satisfactory, Schumann conceived the
project of going to Vienna, and establishing his
periodical in that city, there being no musical paper of
any kind there. In a letter to Zuccalmaglio, dated
August 8th, 1838, given in the appendix to Mr.
Hueffer's “ Music of the Future," he says, “ I hope to
derive much good from this change; a new round of

24

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

life, new work, and new ideas. I shall have many
troubles to get over; and we have to go on rather
gently, as the censorship is strict and will suppress
freelySchumann of course thought that he was
going into a world of music, where that opposition to all
artistic progress which has always been a distinctive
characteristic of the musical society of Leipzig would
no longer be felt, and where he should meet with
enthusiastic support and sympathy in his literary and
artistic schemes. But these hopes were dashed to the
ground when he came to know the real state of music
in Vienna, the city which of all others deserves the
name of the city of music. Here, where Haydn, Mo¬
zart, Beethoven, and Schubert had lived and worked,
there was little trace of their influence. The attractive
trivialities of Strauss in the sphere of instrumental
music, and of Proch and his followers in vocal music,
were the only compositions that the people cared to
hear.

In spite of his disappointment with the Viennese
public, and the many difficulties caused by the censor¬
ship, he did not relinquish the idea of bringing out the
Neue Zeitschrift in Vienna until the spring of the
next year, 1839, when, seeing that the case was hope¬
less, he came back to Leipzig. He brought two trea¬
sures home with him; one was the score of Schubert's
Symphony in C major, which was entrusted to his care
by the composer’s brother Ferdinand, and which
Schumann got performed at the Gewandhaus on March
21st. The other treasure was a steel pen, which
Schumann, who dearly loved anything that savoured
of sentimental mysticism, found lying upon the grave

THE ARTIST’S DEVELOPMENT.

25

of Beethoven in Wahring cemetery, and which he kept,
regarding it as a portent of unusual good, and using it
on very special occasions, as for instance when writing
the score of the Symphony in B flat, and the notice of
Schubert’s C major Symphony for the Zeitschrift .

On his return home he renewed and improved his
friendship with Sterndale Bennett, who had come to
Leipzig shortly before Schumann went away. But with
this exception he made no new friends, for he was en¬
grossed in his attempts to obtain the consent of Wieck
to his union with Clara, attempts which were only
crowned with success after a long and tedious law¬
suit, which resulted in the necessary permission being
absolutely forced out of the obdurate parent. The
lovers, after having waited in a state of the most pain¬
ful suspense, were at last happily married on September
12th, 1840, in the church of Schonefeld, near Leipzig.
Shortly before his marriage the degree of Doctor of
Philosophy was conferred upon him by the University
of Jena. Eight children were the fruit of this mar¬
riage, all of whom survived Schumann.

The various difficulties and disappointments through
which he had gone since he first declared his affection,
had borne fruit in his musical creations. All the finest
of his pianoforte works date from these years. It
would seem that he had resolved to attain to the per¬
fection of form as a writer for the piano before at¬
tempting any other branch of composition. True, there
are a few essays in other directions, as, for instance, the
Symphony in G minor; but of the works which we now
possess,.all the greatest of those written for the piano
are earlier in date than any other class of his works.

26

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

The period which immediately succeeded the marriage
was one of quiet, happy work. In the profound
retirement which he enjoyed almost without interrup¬
tion for the next four years, he studied every new form
of composition, making himself master of each in turn,
and leaving in each works which in truth deserve the
epithet “monumental.” In 1840, the year of his mar¬
riage, he devoted himself exclusively to song-writing.
In 1841 he composed no fewer than three of his four
great symphonies, and in 1842 his masterpieces of
chamber music were produced.

In the beginning of this year he was induced to
break through his retirement, and to accompany his
wife on a concert tour to Hamburg, where his B flat
Symphony was performed, and whence she went on to
Copenhagen without him, since he preferred going
back to his labours. In the summer of the same year
they went for a tour in Bohemia, but he could not but
be conscious that the divine afflatus was upon him, and
that he must devote himself heart and soul to composi¬
tion. In 1843 he wrote the cantata, “Paradise and
the Peri,” his first essay in the direction of concerted
vocal music. And at this point, when his outward
circumstances were of the happiest kind, when he had
won the woman who of all others was the most capable
of making him happy, he stood at the zenith of his
career, having obtained absolute mastery over every
form of music. At this point, therefore, we may most
fitly close our examination of the second section of
Robert Schumann’s life, and the first. of his artistic
career.

THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

27

CHAPTER III.

THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

1843 — 1856 .

We have seen how Schumann, after passing through
the many and various difficulties that beset him at the
beginning of his life, and again at the outset of his
professional career, had at length attained to the
fulfilment of all his desires. The art of composition
had now been perfectly mastered. No longer do we
hear of those early struggles to acquire the faculty of
casting his musical ideas into perfect form. He had
reached a point where composition came easily to him,
and henceforth in all that he writes we trace that
feeling of spontaneity which is the mark of all con¬
summate achievements in art. His outward circum¬
stances, as we have said, were entirely favourable to
his creative activity, and fortune seemed once again to
shine upon him. No doubt he would have been still
happier than he was if he had met with a little more
appreciation from his contemporaries and fellow-
musicians, for whom he himself had always a word of
praise whenever it could reasonably be bestowed. But
this want is one which he shares with all the greatest
men of the earth, or almost all. Since the day when
Cimabue's Madonna was enthroned in the church of

28

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

Santa Maria Novella amid the joyful acclamation of
all Florence, it may be doubted whether any of the
world's greatest men have ever received the universal
homage of their contemporaries. This has been
reserved for those of secondary achievement. And,
indeed, so few have been the exceptions to the rule,
that it may almost be held to be a test of true great¬
ness that an artist, whether poet, painter, or musician,
should be despised and rejected by those among
whom he lives. As Landor says, “ We cannot hope
for both celebrity and fame: supremely fortunate are
the few who are allowed the liberty of choice between
them."

It is curious to reflect that all the honour which the
world gave to Schumann during his life was the degree
of Doctor at Jena, and a professorship in the conserva-
torium of Leipzig, which had been founded through
the exertions of Mendelssohn, and to which Schumann
was appointed on April 3rd, 1843. In the winter of the
same year the first performance of " Paradise and the
Peri" took place in the Gewandhaus, and the work
so enthusiastically received that it had to be given
again in a week's time. But successes like this were
very few, and only served as the exceptions to the
rule just given. Though his own triumphs were of
the rarest occurrence, he could share in those of his
wife, and we know that her successes were keenly
enjoyed by him. In the spring of 1844 they went
together on a concert tour to Russia, and in a letter
written by Schumann from St. Petersburg to his
father-in-law (with whom a reconciliation had been
brought about in the previous year), we see that the

THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

29

journey gave him the greatest possible pleasure. The
public triumphs of Madame Schumann, the great
favour with which the two artists were received in
the musical world of the Russian capital, and the
frequent intercourse with Adolph Henselt, were the
most important elements in Schumann's enjoyment.

On their return to Leipzig in June, he began to
think of severing his connection with the Neue Zeit-
schrift , which had now lasted just ten years. Since
1840, the year in which he first attained to perfect
freedom of musical expression, the direction of the
journal had occupied a secondary place in his thoughts,
and the want of success which attended his endeavours
to publish it in Vienna probably conduced to his inten¬
tion of giving up the regular work of the paper. After
July, 1844, he was only an occasional contributor. In
addition to his composition there were duties in con¬
nection with the professorship, of which we have
spoken; and to these he now applied himself. But it
does not appear that he had any of the special gifts
which go to make a good teacher. He seems to have
lacked the power of imparting instruction in words,
and of communicating to the pupil the method by
which any desired effect was to be obtained. His bio¬
grapher, Wasielewski, gives from his personal recollec¬
tion a very good instance of his peculiarities of tuition.
He tells us that he (the writer) had to play the violin
part in the B flat trio of Schubert in one of the classes
for concerted music, and that Schumann scarcely
opened his lips, during the whole lesson, although,
as Wasielewski modestly admits, there was plenty of
opportunity for correction. The habits of silence

30

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

and reserve, which were growing upon him more and
more, were no doubt signs of the progress of that
mental affliction which from this time onwards in¬
creased with every year, the attacks of nervous ex¬
citement and unaccountable melancholy becoming more
and more frequent as time went on. The state of his
health was no doubt the principal reason for his move
to Dresden, which took place in October of this
year. It was thought, and probably with some truth,
that he had suffered from too much music in Leipzig,
and that in a new atmosphere he might recover from
the weariness and lassitude which oppressed him, and
in time regain some of the musical ardour of his
earlier life. His position in Leipzig obliged him to
hear an immense amount of music, and in Dresden he
need only hear what he liked. The relief that he felt
at first is expressed in a letter to F. David, in which
he says, " Here ” (in Dresden) “ one can get back the
old lost longing for music, there is so little to hear !
It just suits my condition, for I still suffer very much
from my nerves, and everything affects and exhausts
me directly/’

Though Leipzig ceased to be his home from the
autumn of 1844, it was not till December of that year
that he settled for good in Dresden, after having taken
his farewell of Leipzig at a matinee mvsieale on December
8th. We must not infer from his relief at hearing less
music that he had become negligent as far as his own
compositions were concerned. During this very time
we know that he was working far too intensely at
the “ Scenes from Faust/’ A Dresden doctor, named
Helbig, strongly recommended him to distract his

THE SHADOW OP DEATH.

31

thoughts and to take up some interest altogether
apart from music, but this he could by no means be
persuaded to do. Dr. Helbig's account of Schumann's
physical and mental condition is quoted by Wasielewski,
and is of course most interesting, since it gives an
exact description of the symptoms of the case, and its
peculiar circumstances. Of these the most remarkable
were that he lost the power of remembering musical
ideas, even when he was composing, and that he was
constantly troubled with what may be called an auri¬
cular delusion, imagining that he heard one particular
note (an A) always going on. This state of things
lasted with slight intermissions until February, 1846,
when he regained much of his former health, both in
mind and body; not that the clouds which had
gathered thickly around him were ever again dispersed
altogether, but before the final darkness they parted,
for intervals of longer or shorter duration. When we
consider the grandeur and breadth of the works which
were produced during the years between his residence
in Dresden and his death, it is almost impossible to
believe them to be the compositions of one who
laboured under so severe an affliction as that to which
Schumann was subject. For a long time he seems to
have possessed the power of resisting, so far as music
was concerned, the influence of his disease, and it was
only in his relations with others, and apart from music,
that his condition was seen at its worst. The silence
and depression by which he had for a long time been
affected, were now almost unconquerable, even by
his most intimate friends. It is true that during the
years he spent at Dresden he became very fond of Fer-

32

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

dinand Hiller, and that he interested himself con¬
siderably in Richard Wagner, who was at that time in
Dresden. His opinion of “ Tannliauser,” which was not
very favourable at first, became gradually more and
more so; and from this it is evident that he retained
sufficient energy and perseverance to devote time and
attention to the study of such a work as this.

With the improvement in his health came the deter¬
mination to perfect himself in a branch of musical
science to which he thought he had not given enough
time, viz., counterpoint. The result of his ardour is
comprised in the works for the pedal-piano, all of
which show more contrapuntal skill than had appeared
in any earlier compositions. Among the greater
works, most of the pianoforte concerto and the 0 major
Symphony date from this period (1845-46) ; and cer¬
tainly no music could be more free from all trace of
morbid feeling than these two masterpieces of Schu¬
mann's art.

In the winter of 1846-47 the Schumanns visited
Vienna, and stayed there several weeks. Madame
Schumann gave some concerts, and in the early part
of the year they returned by way of Prague, where two
concerts were given, at one of which the pianoforte
quintet was played with the greatest success. In the
summer they went for a short time to Zwickau, and
Schumann had the satisfaction of a really enthusiastic
reception in his native town. The new symphony and
the pianoforte concerto were performed under Schu¬
mann's direction, and were highly appreciated.

The good effects produced by these journeys on
Schumann's health may be traced in the list of works

THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

33

composed in this year, which is more than usually ex¬
tensive. Two trios for piano and strings, and a con¬
siderable amount of vocal music, bobh for solos and
chorus, were written, and a great part of one of his
chief works, the opera of “ Genoveva,” was planned,
though little was actually composed except the over¬
ture. The realization of one of his most cherished
schemes was at hand. It appears that as early as 1840
he had begun to think about writing a grand opera;
but his purpose did not become fixed till 1844 or
thereabouts, when he commenced to cast about in good
earnest for a libretto, or rather for a subject that would
attract his imagination and inspire his creative powers.
Among the many subjects that suggested themselves,
the following are the most worthy of note: “Faust,”
the “ Nibelungenlied,” the “ Wartburg Tournament of
Song,” and the “Veiled Prophet ” from Moore’s “ Lalla
Kookh.”. The first of these ideas was used, as we have
seen, in a different way, in the form of the “ Scenes from
Goethe’s ‘ Faust;’ ” and it seems very probable that the
last would have been chosen, but for the fact that an
Oriental subject had quite recently been set by him,
which, moreover, was taken from the same English poem.
He intended to turn his attention to this subject at a
later date, and it is evident from a letter on the subject
to Zuccalmaglio that he was quite aware of the dra¬
matic capabilities of Moore’s story. It was not till
many years after Schumann’s death that an opera was
written upon the “ Veiled Prophet ” by Mr. C. Villiers
Stanford, one of the most ardent of Schumann’s
admirers. The third of the stories we have mentioned
had been appropriated by Wagner before Schumann

D

34 ROBERT SCHUMANN.

had begun even the outline of his own work, and there¬
fore was out of the question. It is just possible, too,
that the idea of giving musical treatment to the “ Ni-
belungenlied ” may have occurred to Wagner as early
as this, though the four poems which make up “ Der
King des Nibelungen ” were not written till 1853.
However this may be, it is in vain to wish that we had
two musical settings of the great Norse myth, and by
two such different men as Wagner and Schumann.

At last, in the beginning of 1847, Schumann became
acquainted with Hebbel's play on the story of
“ Genevieve,” and at once decided to adopt the subject
for his opera. He wished to temper the harrowing
and sensational scenes of that drama by infusing into
the libretto some of the spirit of Tieck's poem on the
same subject, but his efforts to get a satisfactory
book made by Robert Reinick were unsuccessful, and
Hebbel himself could not be induced to modify his
work to please Schumann. He was obliged therefore
to compile a libretto for himself from the two works
and as best he could, and it must be confessed that
the result is by no means altogether successful.
The words will be spoken of more fully when \ve
come to consider the opera as a whole.

In the beginning of 1848 we find Schumann in a
much more satisfactory condition than he had been
for some time. The last touches were given to the
“ Scenes from ‘ Faust/ ” and the opera was approach¬
ing completion. He now succeeded his friend Hiller
as conductor of a choral society for male voices.
This occupation gave him a new interest, and the
work happened at this time to be particularly con-

THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

35

genial to him, as he had lately composed several,
choral works for men's voices, and an opportunity
was afforded him of hearing the effect of some of the >
“ Faust ” choruses.

In this, the later part of his residence in Dresden,
it is curious to notice that, whereas he had always
been used to take up one form of musical composi¬
tion with great energy at one time, and to devote
himself exclusively to it while the mood was on him,
he now produced works in almost every form; vocal
musio and instrumental, chamber music and orchestral,
wor^a, of large and of small calibre, were produced
with the greatest possible rapidity. His compositions
seemed* as it were, to flow in an irresistible stream,
nor could the interruptions caused by outward circum¬
stances deter him from his work. The list for 1849 is
larger and more varied than that for any other year;
but at the same time it contains fewer of those works
which have been accepted as his finest. The best
work of this period is the “ Manfred ” music.

Schumann ^leffc Dresden for a time in 1849, when
that disturbance took place in which Richard Wagner,
who in politics as in art was an ardent revolutionary,
bore no inconsiderable part. Schumann's nature un¬
fitted him utterly for public life in any form, and we
may feel sure that the sensitive composer, with his
reserved, silent disposition, would have made a very
poor demagogue indeed, even if he had held the
extreme views of his younger .brother in art. He
seems to have been sufficiently in sympathy with the
insurrectionists to make his stay at Dresden somewhat
undesirable, and in the little village of Kreischa, about

p 2

36

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

four and a half miles off, he could go on peacefully
with his work, and yet be within hearing of the stirring
events of that month of May.

In the midst of this turbulent state of affairs, Schu¬
mann heard of a new sphere of work for which he
considered himself fitted by his signal success in con¬
ducting the chorus of male voices, of which mention
has been already made. On the death of Mendelssohn,
Julius Rietz had succeeded to the post of conductor at
the Gewandhaus in Leipzig, and rumour now said that
Rietz was appointed Capellmeister at Berlin. There¬
upon Schumann caused application to be made for the
post at the Gewandhaus through a certain Dr. Hartel.
The endeavour to obtain the appointment was unsuc¬
cessful, since Rietz was not removed from Leipzig.
It seems pretty certain that the post would not have
been well filled if Schumann had been appointed, for
the same qualities which prevented his being a good
teacher stood in his way as a conductor. It is related
that his constitutional diffidence of manner was so
strong that he could not bring himself to correct his
orchestra for any particular mistake, or to draw atten¬
tion to it, but would simply direct them to begin again
at the beginning. If the band did not discover the
mistake for themselves, it had to remain unconnected
at the performance.

In August, 1849, the one hundredth anniversary of
Goethe’s birth gave occasion for the performance of
the " Scenes from * Faust/ ” and accordingly such of
these as were by this time completed were given, to¬
gether with Mendelssohn’s “ Walpurgisnacht,” both
at Dresden and Leipzig, Schumann’s work alone being

THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

37

performed at the same time at Weimar. The'" Scenes,”
as we now have them, were not finished until 1853,
and were not published till after the composer's
death.

Schumann's wish for the Gewandhaus post had left
him the desire for some kind of regular duty connected
with music, and accordingly, during the winter of
1849-50, we find him making arrangements in order
to obtain some such post as that which he had wished
for at Leipzig. Some influential friends in Dresden
tried to get for him an appointment as assistant Capell-
meister there, but from some cause or other this also
fell through. While he was in doubt about this, how¬
ever, a much better post was actually offered to him:
a vacancy of a similar kind had occurred at Diissel-
dorf in consequence of Ferdinand Hiller's removal to
Cologne. The only drawback, or at all events the
chief one, to the new post, was the distance of Diissel-
dorf from the neighbourhood where Schumann had lived
all his life; but after some preliminary negotiations
had been settled—Hiller himself being the medium of
communication throughout—Schumann decided to
accept the offer. Before taking up his abode in
Diisseldorf he had to fulfil several engagements; of
these the most important was the superintendence of
the production of “ Genoveva " in Leipzig.

In the early spring of the year he undertook another
concert tour with his wife, visiting Leipzig, Bremen,
and Hamburg. From a letter written by Madame
Schumann to Hiller, we hear of four weeks pleasantly
spent in Leipzig, and in Hamburg she says that Jenny
Lind had sung at the two final concerts of the tour.

38

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

so that the success of the undertaking is manifest.
The preparations for “ Genoveva 99 were later in the
year, as the opera was produced on June 25, and for
this event the Schumanns again went to Leipzig; The
time of year was unpropitious, and the work did not
suit the taste of the Leipzig public; at all events, it
was received without much enthusiasm. The warmest
admirer of the new work seems to have been Spohr,
who was unfeignedly delighted with it.

The move to Diisseldorf was not made until Septem¬
ber, 1850, and his first appearance as conductor tbok
place on October 24th. In his new capacity of musical
director (Stadtischer Musikdirector) he had to conduct
not only an orchestra, but also a vocal union. A series
of concerts of the most successful kind was giVen
during the winter, and at the first some of his owii
works were performed, under the direction of Julius
Tausch. The new sphere of action contained all that
he could desire—regular work, a good orchestra and
chorus at command, always ready to perform his
new compositions as soon as they were written, and
the power of bringing to a hearing whatsoever music
he considered worthy of that honour. Now at last h©
was in a position to hold out to young composers the
encouragement he had always wished to give them. We
know from many passages in his writings how dear to
his heart was the cause of young musical aspirants, and
we need not wonder when we find that during his first
concert season in Diisseldorf one of the evenings was
devoted exclusively to the works of living composers,
'a proceeding at that time quite unheard of.

In connection with this change of residence there

THE SHADOW OP DEATH.

39

appears for the first time a curious peculiarity, which
proves to be a foreshadowing of presentiment of the fate
which was now so near. In one of the letters to Hiller
which bear upon the subject of the Diisseldorf appoint¬
ment, he expresses his horror at finding that the town
contained a lunatic asylum; he describes how he had
once or twice stayed in a house whose windows looked
out upon an institution of the sort, and how the con¬
stant sight of it had preyed upon his mind. He takes
comfort, however, from the idea that after all his in¬
formation may have been incorrect, and that the asylum
may turn out to be nothing more gloomy than a hos¬
pital. From the way in which he is able to reason
himself out of his nervous dread, we see that at the time
this letter was written he was in an unusually satis¬
factory condition, and one altogether the reverse of
morbid. The influence of Dresden, and the interest he
took in public matters at this time, had no doubt been
good, and had taken him out of himself for the time
being. This more hopeful condition of things was
not of long duration, though at first Schumann seemed
to have received much benefit from the change of life
as well as the change of scene. His creative facility
was greater than ever. The “ Rhine Symphony ” and
a number of ballads set elaborately and at considerable
length, of which the “Pilgrimage of the Rose ” is
the most prominent, were the most important of the
works produced during the early part of the Diissel-
dorf period. Besides these, there are many isolated
compositions of almost every kind, and we hear of
schemes for a second opera and for an oratorio.
Neither of these came to anything, but the last project

40

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

bore fruit in a Mass and a Requiem. The only
permanent result of the operatic scheme was the
composition of an overture to Schiller's “Braut von
Messina/' in which play he had been much interested,
with a view to having an opera libretto written
upon it.

A journey to Switzerland with his family in the
summer of 1851, a short visit to Antwerp in August
of the same year, in order to act as judge at a com¬
petition of the Belgian “ Mannergesangverein," and a
week spent in Leipzig in March, 1852, broke what
by this time had become the monotonous routine of
the life at Diisseldorf. The Leipzig visit was fully
occupied with the performances of Schumann's own
music; to such a point had his fame increased even
in that cold and unappreciative town.

The Lower Rhine Music Festival (Niederrheinische
Musikfest) is the largest and most celebrated insti¬
tution of the kind in Germany. It is held at Whit¬
suntide in annual rotation at Cologne, Aix, and
Diisseldorf, so that in each town it is usually of
triennial recurrence, like our own provincial festivals.
In May, 1853, the thirty-first of these gatherings took
place at Diisseldorf, and in ordinary circumstances the
task of directing the entire festival would have devolved
on Schumann. He, however, only conducted the music
on the first day, consisting of Handel's “Messiah " and
his own symphony in D minor; the rest of the festival
was conducted by Hiller, at Schumann's request. It
had grown of late more and more evident that Schu¬
mann's powers of conducting were not adequate to such
a task as was now set before them; and symptoms of

THE SHADOW OP DEATH.

41

failing health had begun once again to show themselves.
No doubt the regularity of the work at Diisseldorf, that
very regularity which he had thought would be so greatly
beneficial, had begun to have no good effect on him.
If in earlier life he had had some similar post, he
might very probably not have felt his present duties
to be injurious, but his strength was now not sufficient
for all that he had to do; and, besides, the consciousness
of his shortcomings as a conductor, which he, with his
sensitive nature, cannot but have felt, must have added
not a little to the irksomeness of his position. When
we know that one of the most marked signs of the
mental disorder which was now beginning to show it¬
self, was that all music heard by him seemed to be
taken too fast, and that accordingly he slackened
the pace of every composition which he himself con¬
ducted, 1 there is little difficulty, in accounting for
the desire on the part of the authorities to procure
a substitute for him. They wished very naturally to
effect this without hurting Schumann's feelings, and
an attempt was made after the first concert of the
winter series in 1853 to induce him to retire, but
Schumann felt aggrieved by their well-meant insinua¬
tions, and the result was a difference of no amicable
kind. Julius Tausch, of whom mention has before
been made, succeeded him as conductor, and Schu¬
mann began to take measures for a speedy departure
from Diisseldorf. His thoughts turned once more to
Vienna, as they had done on a former occasion, but

1 On one occasion, when he was conducting a symphony of
his own, he continued to beat time after the conclusion of the
work, oblivious of the fact that the players had stopped.

42

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

his wish to live there was not destined to be ful¬
filled.

• The annoyance caused by this misunderstanding
with the authorities was in some degree counter¬
balanced by a very great pleasure which came to
Schumann in the same month as that first concert of
the series, after which, as we have said, he laid down
the conductor's Mton. A letter of introduction was
brought to Schumann from Joseph Joachim, recom¬
mending to his notice a young composer of whose
powers the writer had formed the highest opinion. The
bearer of the letter was no other than Johannes Brahms,
and the reception which he got from Schumann, as
soon as his works had been seen, must have far ex¬
ceeded the most sanguine hopes of the aspiring com¬
poser. At once Schumann recognized the surpassing
capabilities of the young man, and wrote to Joachim
these words, and nothing more: “Das ist der, der
kommen musste" (“This is he who was wanted to
come"). In defence of his new friend’s qualifications
as a composer, Schumann returned for the last time into
the world of letters, and published in the periodical
with which he had been so intimately connected an
article entitled “New Paths" (“Neue Bahnen ”),
which is certainly one of his most remarkable writings.
In it Schumann seems to sing his “ Nunc Dimittis/'
hailing the advent of this young and ardent spirit, who
was to carry on the line of great composers, and to
prove himself no unworthy member of their glorious
company. The concluding sentence of the article,
which contained the composer's last printed words, is
not a little remarkable, for it gives fullest expression

THE SHADOW OF DEATH.

43

to that principle which had always governed his own
criticisms, and which is in the highest degree valuable
ior all criticism: “In every age there is a secret
band of kindred spirits. Ye who are of this fellow¬
ship, see that ye weld the circle firmly, that so the
truth of Art may shine ever more and more clearly,
shedding joy and blessing far and near.”

Little more remains to be told. In the winter of 1853
a concert tour was undertaken by the Schumanns in
Holland, and the reception there accorded to his music,
more especially at Utrecht and Rotterdam, gave him
the keenest satisfaction. In January, 1854, “ Paradise
and the Peri ” was performed at Hanover, and while
there- Schumann had some pleasant intercourse with
several congenial spirits. On his return he took con¬
siderable interest in preparing his critical and other
writings for the press, and even contemplated a new
literary scheme. Very soon after this journey, how¬
ever, his mental condition assumed the gravest aspect,
and he became a prey to almost unintermittent melan¬
choly. Beside the old delusion of a persistent musical
note always audible, there appear to have been halluci¬
nations of a more vivid kind. On one occasion he was
under the impression that Schubert and Mendelssohn
had visited him and had given him a musical theme,
which he wrote down, and upon which he set himself to
write variations. These were never finished, but it is
not a little curious that almost immediately after the
tragic circumstance which compelled his friends to
place him under medical restraint, he resumed the task
of composing on this same theme with renewed energy.
Schumann's own variations have never been published,

44

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

bat the theme which originated in so curious a manner
has been used by Brahms for a set of four-hand varia¬
tions, and published as his op. 23. The terrible
disease had not given any manifestations of an alarming
kind, but on February 27th, 1854, in one of his more
acute attacks of melancholy, he attempted to commit
suicide by throwing himself into the Rhine. He was
saved by some boatmen and restored to his friends.
After this it was of course necessary to place him under
restraint, and indeed he himself had expressed his will¬
ingness to be confined in an asylum, even before this
sad event. He was placed under the care of Dr.
Richarz, who had a private asylum at Endenich, near
Bonn, and here he remained for two years, his condition
showing occasional improvement, so that he was not
debarred altogether from intercourse with his friends.
A touching account of his condition at this time is given
by his biographer, Wasielewski, who visited him in the
summer of 1855, and was allowed to watch him un¬
observed as he sat at his piano improvising. The end
came on July 29th, 1856. He died at four o’clock in
the afternoon, in the presence of his beloved wife, and
was buried two days afterwards at Bonn, in the church¬
yard opposite the Sternenthor.

Seventeen years after the master’s death, a festival
in his honour was held in the town where he was
interred. This took place on August 17th, 18th,
and 19 th, 1873, and was devoted entirely to Schu¬
mann’s works. Of these nearly all the most remark¬
able were performed; his widow, his biographer
Wasielewski, and Joachim, taking an active part in
the arrangements. The proceeds were used for the

THE SHADOW OP DEATH.

45

erection of a monument above the composer's grave,
and this was unveiled in 1880, when a concert of
great interest was given.

Those who knew Schumann well describe him as a
man of moderately tall stature, well-built, and of a
dignified and pleasant aspect. The outlines of his
face, with its intellectual brow, and its lower part
inclining slightly to heaviness, are sufficiently familiar
to us all; but we cannot see the dreamy, half-shut
eyes kindle into animation at a word from some
friend with whom he felt himself in sympathy, nor
have we any sketch or drawing which would show
us what he looked like in ordinary life, or when
engaged in earnest conversation with his friends. In
the case of Beethoven there exists a most valuable
sketch, if sketch it should be called, and not rather
caricature, which gives us an impression of the man
such as no other portrait can convey; but with
Schumann there is nothing of the kind, or if there
be, it has never been published. We have to con¬
tent ourselves with verbal descriptions.

We have seen that, so far as outward circumstances
were concerned, Schumann's life was uneventful; the
crises through which he passed were nearly all of a
mental kind, but perhaps for that very reason they
were the more trying, seeing that in the greater num¬
ber he could apply to no friend- for sympathy or
counsel. Until his marriage he was almost entirely
debarred, partly, no doubt, by his own reticence, from
the closest intimacy even with those to whom he was
most attached; and we can hardly doubt that, forced as
he was to live a life of spiritual loneliness, his constitu-

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

fcional habit of melancholy, and his inherent tendency ,
towards insanity had a more fatal effect upon him than .
they would have had if he had persuaded himself to ,
seek the sympathy of those around him more diligently,
and to have opened his heart more freely to those by
whom he was beloved.

THE PIANOFORTE WORKS.

47

CHAPTER IY.

THE PIANOFORTE WORKS.

At the outset of any account of Robert Schumann's
compositions, one group of works must command chief,
and, for a time, exclusive attention. We have seen
that it was his practice to confine himself almost
entirely to one class of composition at a time, and that
he never rested, or turned his attention to another
branch of the art, until he had done the best he could
in the particular class he had chosen. Since at the
beginning of his artistic career he intended to fit him¬
self for the profession of a pianist, it is easy to account
for the fact that his earliest compositions are one and
all for the instrument which it was his ambition to
play. It is not often easy, and in many cases it is
quite impossible, to trace the course of an artist's
growth from his published works; but in Schumann's
pianoforte compositions we are permitted to watch his
gradual development, and to see how the mysteries of
musical form became ever more and more clear to
his understanding. At first he wisely refrained from
attempting to write in the classical form at all, and it
was not till the sixth year from the time of his begin¬
ning composition that he wrote his first sonata; but
there is no evidence that he was hampered in the ex-

48

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

pression of his ideas by his lack of theoretical musical
knowledge. He had found a form which met all the
requirements of his creative faculty, and in which he
could express all that he wished. This form, if form
it can indeed be called, consists in the combination of
many short musical organisms into one set or collection
of pieces, the whole becoming organic by means of the
inherent connection between the component parts. All
Schumann’s most important compositions for the piano,
as well as many of those which are less remarkable,
are in this form, though it is curious that he seldom, if
ever, uses it for works. of any other kind. Many of
the songs, indeed, are in sets, as the " Dichterliebe,”
“ Frauenliebe,” &c. But the form is not the same, for
any song may be sung by itself without losing any of
its beauty or significance, while in the case of tbe
pianoforte works, no piece can be taken out of its
surroundings without some detriment to its proper
effect.

Before considering the most important and the best
known of the piano works, we must take a cursory
glance at the earliest efforts of the composer. The
“ Abegg ” variations (op. 1) originated, as has been
already related, in Schumann’s having met at a ball at
Mannheim a young lady named Meta Abegg. He ex¬
perienced towards her just so much of the gentle pas¬
sion as warranted him in turning her name into a
musical phrase, and writing a set of variations on a
melody constructed upon that phrase. The work is
not musically of any importance, and the influence of
Moscheles is evident throughout; but it is highly
interesting to the pianoforte student, for it shows how

THE PIANOFORTE WORKS.

49

deeply its author had penetrated inter the technique of
the instrument, and even in this first composition there
is, in the finale, an instance of an effect of Schumann's
own.invention, viz., the gradual taking off of a chord
from the bass upwards, leaving at last the upper¬
most note sounding alone. The published variations
appeared with a dedication to a purely imaginary
“ Pauline, Comtesse d'Abegg."

It was about the same time that Schumann heard
Paganini, and that his admiration found expression in
a transcription of six of his caprices for the piano (op.
3). The chief interest attaching to this production is
due to the preface, in which Schumann explains the
purpose of the work, and gives many directions of the
highest possible value, concerning the proper style of
rendering to be adopted in these and similar pieces.
Some time after the publication of the first set of
caprice-studies, a second set (op. 10) was undertaken.
These have much greater intrinsic value than the earlier
series, for the composer no longer adheres religiously
to the actual notes of Paganini, but allows his own
individuality to appear, enriching and extending Paga¬
nini’s themes with great success.

We now have to consider the first of those sets
or cycles of pieces of which passing mention was made
above. The u Papillons ” (op. 2) are a genuine
“ Jean-Pauliad,” to use Schumann’s own expression.
The title was no doubt meant to embody all sorts of
fanciful ideas, such as the upward soaring of his genius
when freed from the bondage of its chrysalis condition,
by which last figure he would represent the long period
of his legal studies, before he was allowed to look for-

50

BOBBBT SCHUMANN.

ward to the musician's career. There appears not to be
any intimate connection between the title and the pieces
themselves. The meaning of these, as the composer
himself tells us in a letter to Henriette Voigt, is to be
found in the last chapter—or rather the last but one
—of Jean Paul's u Flegeljahre,” in which a ball is
described. Bey.ond its youthful freshness and its
constant variety, the work as a whole has no very
great importance, nor can it compare for a moment
with the u Carnaval,” for which it undoubtedly
served as the sketch (conf. the two finales, and the
way in which No. 1 of the “ Papillons ” recurs in
“Florestan ” of the “ Carnaval”). Tet there are in
the earlier work individual pieces of extraordinary
charm, such as Nos. 1,4, 5, 7, and 10. No. 8 was
once made the vehicle of a joke by its composer, who
passed it off upon his friend Topken as a waltz by
Schubert. No. 9 is also interesting as containing in
its second section the germ of a phrase that was used
by Schumann in several later works. This beautiful
effect of a scale with one or more chromatic intervals,
rising persistently under, through, and above the rest
of the parts, which are as persistently stationary,
whether the notes are sustained or repeated, occurs
again in the first movement of the quintett, in the
slow movement of the trio in F (op. 80), and in the
first of the “ Fantasie-Stucke/' for piano alone.

Although some of the other cycles of pianoforte pieces’
come considerably later in order of publication, yet they
were nearly all written in this first period of Schu¬
mann's career as a composer, so that it will be most con¬
venient to examine them in this place. In those cycles

THE PIANOFORTE WORKS.

51

which are best known, the “ Carnaval,” the u Fantasie*
Stiicke,”. the “ Kinderscenen,” and the u Waldscenen/’
all the pieces have some title or other, as the name of a
person or a character, of an incident or a scene. Though
these are, one and all, felt to be absolutely true as
musical delineations, and as representing individualities
of character or incident in a way that is far beyond the
power of words, it must not be supposed that the
composer deliberately set himself, as some maker of
drawing-room pieces might do now-a-days, to write a
musical description of such an individual or such a
scene. In every case, as Schumann himself tells us,
the piece was written first, and the right name found
for it afterwards. He viewed the other method with
supreme contempt. Whatever his manner of working,
there is no doubt that he possessed the most extra¬
ordinary power of perceiving and giving musical ex¬
pression to the salient points in a character or circum¬
stance that took his fancy. The reader will remember
how he used to amuse himself and his schoolfellows
in a way very like this.

In the “ Six Intermezzi ” (op. 4) we have a set of
pieces to the meaning of which the author has given
us no clue, except in the middle section of No. 2, where
the words “ Meine Ruh' ist bin ” may perhaps be taken
as an, indication that the whole number is to be under¬
stood as a delineation of Goethe’s “ Gretchen ” as she
appears in the later scenes of “ Faust/’ Part I. With
the exception of No. 4, all the Intermezzos are in the
same form, a modification of the da-capo form, the
middle section of each being called “ Alternative,”
after which the first subject returns. They are highly

a 2

52

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

interesting, in a purely musical point of view, though
their fame has been eclipsed by that of the “ Novel-
letten," which, like them, are left unexplained by the
composer, and to which they stand in the same
relation that the “ Papillons " do to the “ Carnaval."

Of all the pianoforte works, the “ Carnaval ” (op. 9)
is perhaps the most popular; its wonderful animation
and never-ending variety ensure the production of its
full effect, and its great and various difficulties make it
the best possible test of a pianist's skill and versatility.
The theme of the whole composition is a phrase of the
most unpromising character, consisting of the four
notes A, E flat, C and B—called in German A, S, C, H
which thus make up the name of the town where
Schumann's friend, Ernestine von Fricken, lived. The
name is also translated into musical notes in another
way, as A flat, C and B, A flat being called As in
German. It happens, too, that these four letters are
the only letters in the name Schumann which bear a
musical significance. The three phrases thus generated
are given in their simplest form in the number called
\* Sphinxes." In the entire collection of pieces there
are only two that contain no reference to these notes,
and by far the greater number are actually developed
from them. And yet not even Schumann ever wrote
a work in which there was more constant variety, or
one in which the delineation of characters, both real
and imaginary, was more true to nature. The members
of the mystic “Davidsbund" jostle with the four
time-honoured figures of pantomime. There are also
four portrait-studies, labelled respectively “ Chiarina,"
“ Chopin," “ Paganini," and “ Estrelle," of which the

THE PIANOFORTE WORKS. 53

first three are such speaking likenesses —“ Chiarina ”
is a portrait of Madame Schumann at the age of
fifteen—that we feel absolutely certain that “ Estrelle ”
is no less perfect a presentment of the fair Ernestine,
and that we know her as thoroughly as if we had seen
her in the flesh. Among the prettiest numbers are
three called “ Reconnaissance,” “ Aveu,” and “ Pro¬
menade,” which may be regarded as making up the
description of some tender episode. The finale is that
wonderful “ Marche des Davidsbiindler contre les
Philistins,” in which the fatuous old tune of the
‘ Grossvatertanz ” is used to represent the enemies
of musical enlightenment, and is worried, laughed at,
attacked, and at last thrust ignominiously from the
scene.

A work which is no less masterly in design and
effective in execution dates from the same year as the
€f Carnaval,” and, like it, is built upon a theme con¬
nected with Schumann's brief affection for Mdlle. von
Fricken. The melody on which the “ fltudes Sympho-
niques" (op. 13) are written is from the pen of the
lady's father, and a very beautiful melody it is. All
the studies or variations, as they are indifferently called,
are instinct with originality and strength, and are full
of fancy; some of them, as for instance No. 2, and the
variation immediately preceding the finale, rise to a
height of passion that had not been attained in any
former work of Schumann's. The whole concludes
with a brilliant movement developed at considerable
length, in which the theme of the variations appears
only in a subordinate position; the opening subject is
taken from a song in Marschners opera " Templer

54

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

und Judin,” which contains the words “Du stolzes
England, freue dich.” The adoption of this theme for
the finale was intended by Schumann as a compliment
to Sterndale Bennett, who had just come to Leipzig
at the time when the variations were composed, and to
whom Schumann dedicated them. It is to be feared
that the English cpmposer scarcely estimated the
honour that Schumann had done him at its true
value, for it is related that on one occasion, in after¬
years, he heard the work played, and failed to
recognize it.

It was not till 1835 that any attempt to use the
sonata-form was made. The only two works which
are actually called sonatas date from this year. The
first (op. 11), in F sharp minor, is remarkable as being
the only composition actually published under a pseu¬
donym by Schumann. Its original title runs—“ Sonata
for the pianoforte, dedicated to Clara by Florestan and
Eusebius.” No more accurate description of the
contents of the sonata could be given than that which
is conveyed in the title. The two contrasting sides of
the composer's character are brought out in strongest
relief, nor is there throughout any attempt at compro¬
mise or coalition between them. Eusebius leads off
with an Adagio of great beauty and of a more passionate
character than most of the music to which his name is
applied. This introduces the first movement proper,
in which the restless and impulsive Florestan reigns
supreme. This movement, like the finale, in which the
same side of the author’s character is brought out, is
developed at great length, but is singularly deficient
in proportion and beauty of structure, though individual

THE PIANOFORTE WORKS.

55

passages here and there have a considerable degree
of charm and originality. The best section of the
sonata is the slow movement, and it is at the same
time the simplest and most unpretentious. The
scherzo is very good, and it also contains a genuine
piece of musical fun in the burlesque pomposity of the
Intermezzo, and in the turgid piece of mock-heroic
recitative that leads back to the scherzo.

The second sonata (op. 22), in G minor, had been
begun as early as 1833, and was not finished in its
ultimate form until 1838. A great advance is per¬
ceptible, in respect of clearness of expression, in both
the first and last movements. The time-directions in
the first movement are sufficiently amusing; the
opening is marked u II piu presto possibile,” and yet at
the end the player is told to increase the pace, the
words “ piu mosso ” occurring at the beginning of the
coda, and “ancora piu animato” twenty-five bars
before the close.

The Fantasia in C (op. 17), dedicated to Liszt, deserves
to be mentioned in this place, for though it is very far
from conforming to the rules of sonata structure, it is
at least as good a sonata as that in F sharp minor.
There is certainly one particular in which it trans¬
gresses the most elementary of the rules, viz., that the
slow movement is placed last of all. Though in the
present form of the work this arrangement is un¬
explained, we Can understand it better when we know
the original purpose for which it was written. In
1835 a movement was set on foot throughout Germany
to raise a monument to Beethoven in his native town
of Bonn. Schumann's opinions concerning this project

56

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

may be read in four articles called “ Beethoven’s Mo¬
nument,” which are signed respectively by Florestan,
Jonathan, Eusebius, and Raro. He conceived the plan
of contributing, not a sum of money, but a musical
composition, of which the pecuniary proceeds should be
given to the fund. What is now known as the Fantasia
in C is that composition; its title was to have been
“ Obolus,” as a modest indication of its purpose; and
the three movements were to be called “ Ruins,”
“ Triumphal Arch,” and “ The Starry Crown ” (Ruinen,
Triumphbogen, and Sternenkranz). For some reason
or other the work was not published at this time,
and it was afterwards altered in name, and the
motto from Schlegel added, as we now have it. In
point of form, an advance has again been made, for all
the departures from the orthodox sonata structure are
intentional, and not merely the result of insufficient
knowledge or study ; and in respect of its : noble
themes, its spontaneity, and its depth of passion, it
takes very high rank among the piano works of
Schumann.

The sonata in F minor (op. 14), was, when first
published, called, in deference to a foolish whim of the
publisher, “ Concert pour pianoforte seul, In order
that the title should not be quite inappropriate
Schumann made certain modifications in the first move¬
ment, and left out the two scherzos. In the second
edition of the work he restored the first movement to
its original form, and put in one of the scherzos. The
sonata is of great beauty throughout; it is scarcely less
imaginative than the Fantasia of which we have just
spoken, and in point of form it is much better. The

THE PIANOFORTE WORKS,

57

slow movement consists of variations on a theme by
Clara Wieck, which are treated in Schumann's happiest
vein. The finale is most interesting, although a little
too long.

Beside the defects in technical form, there is one
fault which is common to all the sonatas, and that is an
entire lack of real unity between the movements, and
it is all the more remarkable because in after-life no
quality is more prominent in all the composer's con¬
certed and orchestral compositions, than this same
unity, the want of which is so deeply felt in his early
attempts. But yet, with all their departures from pre¬
cedent and real defects, the beauties which these
works contain must endear them to every lover of
music, as well as to every student of Schumann's com¬
positions.

The next group of works which we have to consider
is of the highest interest, for, as he himself admits,
most, if not all of them, bear the reflection of his emo¬
tional state in one of the most critical periods of his
life,—those years, namely, during which he strove so
valiantly for the hand of Clara Wieck. The four years
of suspense and anxiety bore the richest fruit in the
shape of compositions which for vividness of imagi¬
nation, and truth of spiritual portraiture, have never
been surpassed. In point of form, a return is made to
the old “ cyclic " arrangement; the individual pieces
are longer and more elaborately treated than is the
case in the earlier works, and as a rule they can be
played separately, and are so intended by the composer.
The practice of affixing names to the separate pieces
is gradually discarded, and where they are given, we

58

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

cannot but feel in some instances that the whole
meaning is in no wise expressed by the name. In
the “ Fantasiestiicke ” (op. 12) some of the names are
quite indefinite, and we are free to imagine the com¬
poser’s intention for ourselves. In the “ Kinder-
scenen” (op. 15) all the titles are definite except the
last one, which may be taken as containing the moral
of the whole. “ The poet speaks ” to those for whom
he has coujured up scenes from their own childhood,
and delivers himself of the envoi of his poem. We
may observe that this is the last work, dating from the
period when he wrote exclusively for the piano, that is
furnished with titles for the separate pieces.

The “ Davidsbiindler ” (op. 6), to which title the
name of “'Dances ” was at first appended, are not, as
some have supposed, to be viewed as an extension of
the finale of the “ Carnaval,” but as a development of
the primary ideas represented by the names Florestan
and Eusebius. The two contrasting characters appear
here for the last time in music—the work, though
called op. 6, was not composed till 1837—each piece
being signed with one or other of their initials and
some with both. A musical phrase of Clara Wieck y s
composition is prefixed to the whole as motto. To
her both this work and the “ Fantasiestiicke w were sefifc
from Vienna, and from letters which accompanied
them, we see that they were mystic love-poems, meant
to be completely intelligible only to her to whom they
were sent. Exquisite as are some of the passages in
the “Davidsbiindler/’ some of the numbers are so
wild and obscure that the work has never attained to
a wide popularity.

THE PIANOFORTE WORKS.

59

The “ Novelletten ” (op. 21), the fall meaning of
which has never been disclosed, are intrinsically so
beautiful, that they are much better known than any
of the works in the group we are now examining; we
know that there is an intention in them beyond tbeir
musical value, but we are given no clue except in the
Intermezzo of the third number, which once bore
the inscription from Macbeth , “ When shall we three
meet again," &c. These pieces, like the “ Nacht-
stiicke ” (op. 23) and the “ Humoreske ” (op. 20), both
of which were written in the year after the “ Novel¬
letten," appeal most definitely to the imagination of
every musician, though the ideas which they call up
are not in words to be expressed. The “ Humoreske ”
differs only apparently in form from the others. It is
really in the cyclic form, but the component parts are
joined more closely together than is the case with the
rest.

From the name “ Kreisleriana " (op. 16), which is
taken from the title of one of Hoffmann's “ Fantasie-
stiicke in Callots Manier," we might suppose that
Schumann had returned to his early practice of tran¬
scribing in music the impression produced upon him
by what he read, but in this instance a deeper meaning
is to be perceived; under the guise of Hoffmann's
quaint creation, the “ Capellmeister Kreisler/’ there can
be little doubt that Schumann means to present another
portrait of himself, as he had done before in the
" Davidsbiindler." Florestan and Eusebius are not
introduced in person, but it is easy to recognize their
presence. The names were never used by Schumann
in his music after the “ Davidsbiindler ” (1837), and

60

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

it was not long before they also disappeared from his
prose writings, Eusebius making his last appearance
in 1839> and Florestan in 1842. Thus the period
during which this fancy was kept up, or what is called
by one of the latest of Schumann’s biographers his
“ Davidsbiindlerperiode,” corresponds almost exactly
to that division of his life immediately preceding his
marriage in which he devoted himself entirely to
pianoforte composition. With a passing mention of
some exceedingly graceful pieces of lighter structure—
“Ar&beske” (op. 18), “ Blumenstiick ” (op. 19),
“ Scherzo, Gigue, Romanza, and Fughetta” (op. 32),
by name—we come to one which is of great interest,
since it reflects most definitely the impression produced
upon the composer by his first visit to Vienna, when
he went there in 1838 with the intention of bring¬
ing out the Neue Zeitschrift in that city. The
“ Faschingsschwank aus Wien”—carnival jest from
Vienna—consists of four movements, of which three
are among the brightest and most attractive creations
of the composer* The point of the joke lies in the
first movement, in which the “ Marseillaise,” a tune
at that time interdicted in Vienna, is surreptitiously
introduced. It is surely not too fanciful to interpret
the second movement, Romance, as a representation
of Schumann’s weariness and disappointment in the
gay Austrian capital, concerning which, as we have
seen, his hopes had been so sanguine.

The piano works written after 1839 are so few and.
comparatively so unimportant that they may be noticed
in a very few words. Among the solos, the “ Wald-
scenen” (op. 82), the four marches (op. 76), and the

TUE PIANOFORTE WORKS.

61

mysterious u Morning Songs ” (op. 133), the last com¬
position of the master, written during the sad final
years of his life, are the most prominent. The collec-
tionsof pieces called “Bunte Blatter,” “Jugend-album,”
&c., were made up of short sketches written for the
most part in the early period of his career, but not
included in any of the former sets of pieoes. Among
the duets, the Andante and Variations for two
pianofortes (op. 46) is pre-eminent. The work was
at first written for two pianofortes, two violoncellos,
and two horns, and it is curious to find in one or two
of the variations traces of the composer's original
intention. In the eighth variation, for instance, the
leading phrase has evidently been transferred from
the horn parfc.

Compared with the other piano works, the delightful
duets called “ Bilder aus Osten '' are very late in order
of composition, coming as they do after the opera
“ Genoveva.”

Before leaving this branch of our subject, we must
warn the student of Schumann's pianoforte works
against placing any reliance in the metronome marks,
which are quite incorrect in all the existing editions, the
composer's own metronome being altogether out of
order. Madame Schumann, in the edition of her
husband's pianoforte works which she is at present
preparing for the use of students, intends to indicate
the correct time of the compositions by new metronome
marks.

Concerning Schumann's own pianoforte playing,
those who heard him most frequently tell us that he
produced an extraordinary richness of effect and depth

62

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

of tone; that his accentuation was very slight, and that
he used both pedals with the greatest freedom, some¬
times, it would seem, at the expense of clearness. His
,predilection in favour of the frequent use of the pedal
appears throughout his works; a certain peculiarity in
his method of directing its use is to be noticed; he
employs no sign, as all other composers do, for the
momentary lifting of the pedal at a change of harmony,
but reserves the asterisk commonly used at such points
for passages where the pedal is to be dispensed with
altogether, leaving to the discretion of the player the
management of its necessary and constant intermission.
An amusing story, apropos of Schumann’s playing, is
told in Jansen’s " Davidsbiindler.” The composer used
often, in the dead of night, to sit at his piano and play
by the hour together, giving the reins to his imagina¬
tion. An industrious, but too practical, piano-player,
who lodged in the same house with him, struck with
the romance of the situation, determined to follow his
example; accordingly one night when the moon was
flooding the room with light, and all things contri¬
buted to a romantic effect, this sentimental person
rose from hi3 bed and betook himself with passionate
emotion to his instrument, and played—the first of
Cramer’s studies !

soncM —Concerted and orchestral works. 63

CHAPTER V.

. SONGS—CONCERTED AND orchestral works.

TuR year 1840 was an eventful one in Schumann’s
life, and affected his artistic development as much as it
did his outward circumstances. The crisis of his love-
story had come: the long years of suspense were over;
the object of his true and enduring affection was won;
and henceforth the current of his life was changed.
The fanciful romance of the “ Davidsbund,” which had
given rise to so many beautiful creations, was forgotten,
and replaced by interests and emotions of a more actual
and substantial kind. Instead of a morbid habit of
introspection, we now find in him a keen insight into
human character; and instead of self-analysis, sympathy.
The very form of composition to which he devoted
himself exclusively during this momentous year—the
song—led him to seek inspiration outside himself, since
the choice of subject, and to some extent the limitations
of form, lay not with himself, but with another. With
the same whole-hearted devotion that he had previously
brought to bear on pianoforte writing, he now applied
himself to the art of setting words to music. We found,
in reviewing the pianoforte works, that none of the
best in that class were written subsequently to 1839,

64

ROBERT SCHUMAim.

and a similar phenomenon meets us here : nothing but
songs were composed in the year of Schumann's
marriage, and none of the greatest and most famous
songs date from any other year. There are indeed
many fine songs contained in the larger vocal works,
which are of later date ; but these are for the most
part of a dramatic order, and we are speaking of the
song proper, that is to say, of a lyrical entity, indepen¬
dent and self-contained. There is one respect in which
the comparison with the pianoforte works does not
hold good; in those we can trace the composer's
gradual progress from a condition of immaturity to one
of absolute perfection, but in the songs no such advance
is to be perceived. V Not that all the songs attain to one
level of excellence, but their difference in value depends
on quite other conditions than those which limited him
in the pianoforte works. They vary, not any longer ip.
the point of structure, but in the amount of imaginative
power and truth of delineation which they display. In
some of the songs we feel that the common expression
ft set to music " is the only true one; there is no indis¬
soluble bond of union between words and music, nor is
there any reason why later composers should hesitate
to write music to the same words. But in others, and
these are by far the most numerous class, the marriage
of " perfect music unto noble words " has indeed been
brought about; the poem seems to have waited incom¬
plete until the creation of the music which itself
inspired, and any other setting of the words, though it
may have many points of value, seems little short of
sacrilegious.

This power of putting himself on a par with the poet

SONGS— CONCERTED AND ORCHESTRAL WORKS. 65

whose words he sets, and entering completely into his
mind, is the quality that distinguishes Schumann from
the earlier song-writers. In the songs of Beethoven,
however fine the words, they appear as nought in com¬
parison of the music, and the same may generally be
said of Schubert, though in certain isolated instances,
especially where the words are by Goethe or Heine, the
composer has succeeded in attaining to the perfect
balance between words and music, so that neither is sub¬
ordinate to the other. Who, for instance, can read the
Cm Erlkonig ” without thinking of Schubert's setting ?
But it is possible to read “ Ich denke dein/’ or even
“ Kennst du das Land," without the thought of any
one of the many songs which these words have
suggested.

But what was the exception with the older composers
becomes the rule with Schumann. Not in a song here
and there, but throughout entire cycles of songs, he
follows his poet's varying moods, amplifying. and
idealizing his thoughts, but never assuming more than
a just equality. Of all the songs, the set called
“ Dichterliebe," written to sixteen of the short poems
which make up the “ Buch der Lieder " of Heine, are
the most characteristic in this respect. In considering
these songs, we cannot divide Schumann's work from
Heine's, or think of the two men separately; each bears
an equal share in the effect produced, and indeed it is
sometimes impossible to rid ourselves of the impression
that the songs are the work of one man, not of two.
Not one of all those subtle touches of pathos, humour,
or passion, which make Heine's poetry what it is, is
lost upon Schumann; so absolute is the assimilation,

66

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

and so well is it sustained, that it is next to impossible
to say which are the best and truest of the songs,
though in point of technical vocal treatment they are
not so equal. Schumanns songs are in many moods,
but there is not one of these that is unrepresented in
the " Dichterliebethis must be our excuse forgoing
more into detail with this set than with any other. The
idyllic grace of Nos. 1—3, 5,8, 12, and 15, is re-echoed
again and again, as for instance in “ Wenn ich fruh in
den Garten gehV* “ Auftrage/V or "Dein Angesicht.”
Nos. 4, 10, 13, and 14, with their calm openings and
their infinitely sad endings, such as none but Heine
could have written, and none but Schumann could have
set, find parallels here and there among the other
settings of words by the same poet; and even “ Ich
grolle nicht,” which has never been even approached
in its isolation of passionate despair, has more than one
companion in point of sustained emotion, as “ Wid-
mung" and " Stille Thranen.” No. 9, in which the
voice has only the subordinate part to play, connects
itself with “ Es leuchtet meine Liebe,” a conception
of rare beauty, but one which cannot be appreciated or
realized as a song; it is only when it is heard in another
shape, as the Scherzo of the string Quartet in A minor,
that the full meaning and poetry of the idea is brought
out. In No. 6, the music reflects not only the meaning
of the poem, but also the impression made upon
Schumann by the solemn grandeur of Cologne, y*
That power which he had exercised since the first days
of his musical life, of expressing in music the personal
characteristics of his friends, was now and henceforth
directed into a new channel. No longer do we meet

SONGS—CONCERTED AND ORCHESTRAL WORKS. 67

with those portraits of individuals, real or imaginary,
which are of such constant occurrence in the pianoforte
works; instead of these, he reproduces for us, as here,
the impression that certain places, especially towns,
have made upon his imagination. One instance occurs
in the pianoforte works : the “ Faschingsschwank aus
Wien ” gives, as we have said before, the most vivid
picture of Vienna, as it affected the composer. In
another song, “ Stirb, Lieb, und Freud,” we seem to
breathe the very air of Augsburg, or of one of the
storied cities of Germany. A nobler example than any
we have mentioned is a passage in the “ Rhenish ”
Symphony, where Cologne is again the subject. Of
this we shall presently speak more in detail. No. 11
is in some ways the most wonderful of the set; in its
mixture of humour and tragedy, the music is as
thoroughly in the spirit of Heine as are the words.
To this song there are two parallels, "Abends am
Strand,” and " Der arme Peter,” bpth set to Heine's
words, and both giving musical expression to that
mirth of Heine's which seems always on the verge of
tears. It has been well said, “ What Schubert was to
Goethe, Schumann was to Heine.” The last of the set.
No. 16, may claim to rank with the ballads, which are
no less remarkable in their own way than the lyrical
songs. A merely narrative poem like Chamisso's
“ Lowenbraut ” might well fail to kindle Schumann's
imagination; in this class, too, it was for Heine to
inspire his best work, by the poem of “ The two Grena¬
diers,” in which the composer saw an opportunity for
bringing in his favourite “ Marseillaise.” The manner
in which the idea of the soldier's death is conveyed in

p 2

68

BOBERT SCHUMANN.

the closing chords of the accompaniment, is most
striking, and may serve as another instance of the
sympathy between the author and the composer.

Hardly less wonderful, though in an entirely different
way, is the Lorelei ballad called “ Waldesgesprach,”
which occurs in a set of songs written to words by
Eichendorff, and called “ Liederkreis.” This song,
with its feeling of weird and irresistible fascination, is
intensely powerful in effect, and is conceived in the
truest spirit of romance. Others of this set, as “ In
der Fremde,” No. 1, “ Mondnacht,” and “ Friihlings-
nacht/’ are of exquisite beauty, but as a whole they
are not equal to the “ Dichterliebe,” nor have they
that continuity and connection which is so remarkable
an element in another cycle of songs, the “ Frauenliebe
und Leben.” The words, by Chamisso, are not of a
very high order ; but the music to which they are set
reveals to us an extraordinary depth of penetration into
a side of human pharacter which men are generally
supposed incapable of understanding—the intensity
and endurance of a pure woman's love. Few of the
songs are widely known, except, perhaps, “ Er, der
herrlichste von alienall are at least interesting, but
the master-touch appears quite at the end, in the short
instrumental coda which summarizes all that has gone
before, and welds all the songs into a perfect whole,
just as is done in the “ Dichterliebe.”

The songs of Schumann are often charged with being
unvocal; this is in a measure true, inasmuch as it
requires a cultivated and sympathetic musician, rather
than a mere vocalist, to sing them with proper effect;
but when this condition is fulfilled, there are no songs

SONGS—CONCERTED AND ORCHESTRAL WORKS. 69

that can compare with these for passionate intensity
and depth of emotion.

In 1841, the year immediately succeeding the “ song-
year," the composer's chief though not exclusive
attention was turned to orchestral composition, three
out of the five symphonic works having been written
at this time. Since, however, an examination of these
productions would lead us into a later period of Schu¬
mann's career than the one we are now engaged upon,
it will be better to defer it till we have considered the
concerted or chamber compositions, to which the next
year was wholly devoted.

As in 1840, nothing but songs was written, and all
the best date from that year, so in 1842 nothing but
chamber music was written, and Schumann's master¬
pieces in this branch of art saw the light at this time.
The first production was that which we know as op. 41,
consisting of three Quartets for strings alone. Con¬
sidered without reference to the instruments for which
they are written, these show a perfection of form which
can only be accounted for when we remember the
attention he had given in the previous year to sym¬
phonic structure; but viewed as string Quartets, they
are by. no means perfect. The composer has not
succeeded in freeing himself from the influence of the
pianoforte, nor has he as yet attained to the power of
investing the stringed instruments with that com¬
bination of independence and interdependence which
characterizes all the masterpieces in this kind. The
first of the three, in A minor, is undoubtedly the best;
it suffers less than the others from the defects we have
just mentioned,, and its intrinsic beauty and individu-

70

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

ality have procured for it a certain degree of celebrity,
though this is as nothing when compared to the fame
of the two great compositions of this year, concerning
which we shall speak immediately. The other two
Quartets stand in F and A major; the latter is the
more remarkable, since it contains many passages in
which may be perceived the germs of similar subjects
in the Quintet.

The Quintet in E flat (op. 44), for pianoforte and
strings, has earned for itself a position second only to
the finest works of Beethoven.. Here in England, it
has outlived the howls of execration with which it was
at first greeted by the sapient critics, and at the
present time no more generally popular piece of con¬
certed music can be found, unless it be the “Kreutzer”
Sonata of Beethoven. And it is not only admired and
beloved by cultivated musicians—among these no
dissentient voice will be found—but it can also be
enjoyed, though of course in a more limited degree, by
the general public, and even by the lowest class,
socially speaking, that can be got together, as has been
proved over and over again, when it has been played
to audiences in the East end of London, and listened
to with the greatest and most evident pleasure. The
perfection of its form and structure; the variety and
spontaneity of its lovely melodies; the breadth of its
technical treatment in all the parts; the magnificent
effects of sound ; the unceasing contrasts now between
the movements themselves, now between their several
subjects, as for instance in the Scherzo and its two
Trios, or in the solemn march and its central section, or
even between the pianoforte and the strings; all these

SONGS—CONCERTED AND ORCHESTRAL WORKS. 71

qualities combine to make the Quintet the masterpiece
of Schumann’s work in this sphere of composition, and
to raise it to a point at least as high as any piece of
chamber music that the world has seen since Beethoven.

The Quartet for pianoforte and strings, also in B
flat (op. 47), is second only to the Quintet among
Schumann’s works. It is not at first easy to see why
it has not attained to as great a degree of popularity as
its companion, for it is no less spontaneous and original:
the first movement is as vigorous, and the last as
bright, as the corresponding portions of the Quintett;
and the “ romantic ” element is quite as strong in the
gloomy Scherzo and in the passionate Andante, with
its bitter-sweet suspensions, as it is in the middle
movements of the earlier work. The Scherzo of the
Quartet, like that of the Quintet, has two Trios, and of
these the second bears a curious resemblance, and one
for which there is no accounting, to a passage near the
end of the first movement of the “ Faschingsschwank.”
The sombre colouring of this movement may perhaps
partly account for the difference in popularity between
these two works, the greatest of Schumann’s chamber
compositions; but another reason may be found in the
fact that whereas a perfect balance subsists between a
quartet of strings on the one hand, and the pianoforte
on the other, a trio of stringed instruments cannot so
easily be used as a contrast to the piano alone.

The only other work of 1842 is one which serves to
show that the composer intended to have enriched the
list for this year with a pianoforte Trio. The “ Fan-
tasiestiicke ” for piano, violin, and violoncello (op. 88),
are infinitely below the level attained in the other

72

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

productions of the year : they were no doubt meant at
first for a Trio, but were considered to lack the conti¬
nuity which this title would require, and so were called
by the humbler name they now bear.

For five years Schumann desisted from chamber
compositions, and it was.not till 1847 that the first
works which deserve the name of pianoforte trios were
written. The first, in D minor (op. 63), is full of passion,
and bears traces here and there of that gloomy restless¬
ness which gradually overshadows the production of
this and subsequent years. This character is apparent
only in the first and third sections , the Scherzo and
the Finale are delightfully fresh and healthy in their
tone. The second Trio, in F major (op. 80), is far
brighter and more generally attractive than the first;
while more graceful, it is however less impassioned,
except indeed in the Adagio, which is one of the most
deeply felt utterances of its composer. The third Trio
dates from 1851, and was written between the two
violin Sonatas, which we shall shortly have to consider.
Its key is Q minor, and its opus-number 110. In no
respect can it compare with the other Trios, for the
gloom of the author’s later years has settled upon it so
as not merely to give colour to the subjects on which
the music is built, but even to render the form obscure.
A curious return is made in the Finale to the mood of a
work written in very different times, the Fantasia in
C (op. 17), with the central movement of which the last
section of the G minor Trio has much in common.

Finer by far than this work are the violin Sonatas
which precede and follow it in the list for 1851. They
are in A minor and D minor, and are numbered opp«

SONGS—CONCERTED AND ORCHESTRAL WORKS. 73

105 and 121. The first is the more generally known of
the two, but both contain many passages of great
beauty and individuality. Schumann’s favourite device
of alluding to a former movement in a later one, is
used in the slow movement of the second Sonata with
the happiest possible effect. There are a good many
sets of separate pieces for the piano and one other
instrument; of these the most important are the three
Fantasiestiicke for piano and clarionet, op. 73, and the
well-known set for piano and violoncello called “Stiicke
im Volkston,” op. 102. A set of three Romances for
oboe and piano, op. 94, also deserves mention; though
not familiar to the public in their original form, they
have become more or less widely known through the
medium of an arrangement of the oboe part for the violin.

Between the* concerted chamber music and the or¬
chestral works stands a class of composition which was
in its ordinary use foreign to Schumann’s nature, and
in which he has only left us one example of surpassing
merit. The essential idea of the Concerto, at least in
the modern acceptation of that term, involves the
thought of display ; in all- the classical models of the
form, constant opportunities .are given for the soloist
to show off his powers to the best advantage, and in
most examples a blank space is left which the performer
is expected to turn to account as best he may. Now it
is not needful to have studied Schumann’s character
very deeply to know that nothing could be more
thoroughly antagonistic to all his artistic convictions
than such personal display as is here implied. Yet he
could not fastidiously reject a form that all the great
masters had used with success, and that had been found

74

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

so effective in the hands of his great contemporary,
Mendelssohn. Thus it came about, that in 1841, when
he was engaged upon orchestral composition, he wrote
an Allegro for pianoforte and orchestra, completing it
in 1845 by the addition of the other movements which
unite with it to form the great pianoforte Concerto in
A minor, op. 54. The Allegro is not in strict form,
excepting that the piano has a solo marked Cadenza
near the end, a section, by the way, that seems to
belie the essential purpose of a Cadenza, inasmuch as
it starts, not faster than the rest of the movement, but
at exactly half the pace, with the utmost deliberation.
The solo part has plenty of difficulties, and many of its
passages are extremely brilliant, but it is not allowed
to usurp attention for long together; the orchestral
treatment is throughout so interesting, and the com¬
binations of effect are so skilfully managed that the
hearer is compelled to listen more to the composition
as a whole than to the solo part as the most prominent
feature of attraction, and so the idea of personal display
is successfully kept in the background. The charm of
the musical dialogue in the Intermezzo, and of the
cross-rhythm in the second subject of the Finale, has
never been surpassed in any work of the master's, and
as a whole the Concerto must be allowed a very high
place among his compositions. Two other works for
piano and orchestra exist, numbered 92 and 134 re¬
spectively ; they are both in the same form, an Allegro
with an introduction. Though they contain many inte¬
resting passages and points of beauty, they Bamnot hold
their own beside the Concerto of which we have just
spoken.

SONGS—CONCERTED AND ORCHESTRAL WORKS. 75

A Concerto for violoncello and orchestra, op. 129, and
a similar work for four horns and orchestra, op. 86,
are more remarkable for their extraordinary technical
difficulty than for any great amount of intrinsic musical
beauty, except in the slow movement of the violoncello
composition. One work for violin and orchestra, a
Fantasia dedicated to Joachim, is printed as op. 131,
and another, a Concerto in four movements, remains still
unpublished. Besides this Concerto the same great
artist possesses a musical curiosity of very great interest
in the shape of a Sonata for violin and pianoforte,
written conjointly by Albert Dietrich, Johannes Brahms,
and Robert Schumann, on the occasion of Joachim's
visit to Diisseldorf in 1853. Schumann's part in the
affair consists of a beautiful Romance and a somewhat
lengthy Finale.

The orchestral works of Schumann have not yet
attained, in England at least, to anything like the
degree of popularity which has been universally
accorded to his pianoforte and chamber compositions,
as well as to the songs. It is not very easy to account
for this. Dating as most of them do from the finest
’ period of the composer's career, and the happiest of
his life, they are full, as we might expect, of beauties
of the most exquisite kind, and in some respects they
are surpassed by none of the other works. In all the
Symphonies, and in all their parts, the greatest possible
freedom and nobility of invention is displayed; the
treatment of the subjects is unconstrained, ingenious,,
and thoroughly original; and there are many points in
the orchestration which astonish and delight us, even
in the earliest examples, by their newness and beauty

76

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

of effect. It is not till we come to examine his ordi¬
nary treatment of the orchestra that we are able in
any degree to explain the fact that the Symphonies
are less widely known than almost any class of Schu¬
mann’s compositions. In listening to these Sym¬
phonies, or indeed to any of the orchestral works, one
can hardly resist a certain feeling of heaviness and
oppression, not by any means in the subjects them¬
selves, or in their treatment, bat in the way they are
set before the hearer. The constant doubling of the
string parts by the wind, and of one half of the wind
band by the other, produces an effect of thickness in
the sound which detracts to no slight extent from
the beauty of the subjects, especially at their first
appearance, when clearness is above all to be desired.
We can well understand that to an audience accustomed
to the fairy lightness of Mendelssohn’s orchestration,
Schumann’s must have seemed terribly wanting in
brilliancy; but with the broader views of art which
are now gaining ground among us, we may be sure
that these Symphonies will increase year by year in
popularity, until they are accepted at their true value.

Of an early attempt at orchestral composition, made
in the year 1832, we have already made brief mention.
Beyond the fact of its being in G minor, little is known
concerning it; it was given in public and in its entirety
on a certain memorable occasion in Zwickau, when the
composer first saw and heard Clara Wieck. The work
which is always reckoned as the first Symphony is in
B flat major, and numbered op. 38. It was written,
like two of the other symphonic works, in 1841, the
year in which he began to turn his attention in good

SONGS—CONCERTED AND ORCIESTRAL WORKS. 77

earnest. to orchestral writing. When we remember
the great happiness that had just crowned his hitherto
unsatisfied life, we need not wonder at the genial
freshness and placid beauty that breathes from every
page of the score. The meaning of the whole becomes
clearer to us when we know that Schumann originally
meant to call it “ Spring Symphony/’ The first move¬
ment was to have represented “ Spring’s awakening,”
and the last “ Spring’s farewell.” To those purists
who, forgetful of Beethoven’s Ninth Symphony^ object
to the introduction of a triangle into the score of a
Symphony, this explanation of the first intention of the
composer may not be unacceptable; they will perhaps
allow the obnoxious instrument to remain, on condition
of its carrying with it some spring-like suggestion.
The rest of the world, meanwhile, will contentedly
admire the effect produced, without seeking out any
specially vernal phenomenon as an excuse for an inno¬
vation upon stereotyped form.

In connection with the opening bars of the Sym¬
phony a circumstance is related by Dr. Spitta, which
shows the. inexperience of the composer in rather
a characteristic way. The introductory phrase was
originally identical with the first eight notes of the
chief subject of the Allegro; on the B flat horn,
however, the notes G and A are “ stopped” notes,
while the B flat is naturally produced, so that a
most ludicrous effect resulted at the first rehearsal,
and one which amused Schumann as much as it did
any one else. The difficulty was overcome by trans¬
posing the whole phrase a third higher. Side by side
with this proof of the composer’s deficiency in tech-

78

EGBERT SCHUMANN.

nical knowledge, it is extraordinary to find instances
of the greatest boldness of orchestral treatment. Thus
the slow movement is no more remarkable for its
intrinsic beauty than for the newness of ita. effects.
Among these the most prominent is the passage for
the trombones at the end, by which the way is pre¬
pared for the Scherzo. There are two Trios to this,
as to so many others of Schumann's Scherzos; in the
charming dialogue of the first we catch a faint remi¬
niscence of a passage in the first movement of the
“ Faschingsschwank." Another reminiscence of a
pianoforte work, namely, the last of the “Kreisleriana,"
occurs as an episode in the last movement, which, if it
were only more lightly orchestrated, would yield to
none of its composer's works in point of attractiveness.

The second work of the year is one from which its
author with characteristic modesty withheld the title
of Symphony only because it lacked a slow movement.
Thus the composition in B major (op. 52), has been
] always named “ Overture, Scherzo, and Finaleof the
| first movement Dr. Spitta has observed that it “ offers
us the only example to be found in Schumann of the
influence of Cherubini, a master for whom he had a
great reverence." The Scherzo is highly original,
and its Trio, both in itself and in the way it is intro¬
duced, is perfectly contrasted with it. The Finale,
which underwent considerable alteration in 1845, is
not of very great interest; indeed the work as a whole
must be admitted to be decidedly inferior to the Sym¬
phonies properly so called.

Second among these last, in order of composition,
stands the Symphony in D minor (op. 120), which, like

SONGS—CONCERTED AND ORCHESTRAL WORKS. 79

the two works we have just noticed, was written in
1841, two months after the Overture, Scherzo, and
Finale, but subjected to a complete revision in 1851.
In its later form it appeared after the other Symphonies,
and has therefore been generally called the fourth of
the set. The alterations in the score were confined
for the most part to a redisposition of the wind band,
and to the omission of a guitar, which was at first
included in the accompaniment of the Romanza, its
place being taken in the new recension by the pizzi¬
cato strings. In regard to musical form, this wort
has one. feature of absolute novelty, which is notified
in the sub-title “ Introduction, Allegro, Romanze,

• Scherzo, und Finale in einem Satze” (in one move¬
ment). Not only is no pause made between the four
sections of the work—there was a precedent for this
in Mendelssohn’s “ Scotch ” Symphony—but there is
an essential unity and interconnection between what
would in ordinary circumstances be called the move¬
ments, which is entirely original. In an autograph
copy in the possession of Joachim, yet another title is
found: “ Symphonic Fantasia/’ which implies that the
composer desired more freedom of form than could be
found within the limitations of the ordinary Symphony.
It is a favourite device of Schumann’s to allude in one
movement to a passage or subject which has occurred
in a former one, but nowhere is this artifice employed
so constantly or with so good an effect as in the D
minor Symphony. A certain arpeggio-like figure which
appears at first in the introduction in the most un¬
obtrusive way conceivable, turns out to be nothing
less than the motto of the whole work. It is the chief

80

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

subject of the ensuing Allegro, and it is there used
with a pertinacity, and varied with an ingenuity, in the
highest degree remarkable. Thirty-five bars after the
commencement of the second half of the Allegro, it
appears in conjunction with an episode which is ulti¬
mately to become the chief subject of the Finale, though
even there it will be accompanied by the same motto-
phrase. During the Romance and Scherzo the motto
is unheard, but it reasserts itself in a passage of L sur¬
passing grandeur, which is used to lead iqto the finale.
The Romance is exquisitely tender and is orchestrated
most effectively. Of the phrase taken from the In¬
troduction we have already spoken; from this is deve¬
loped an episode surrounded by lovely figurations on
the solo violin. This episode is shortly afterwards
heard as the trio of the passionate Scherzo, and it is
used again with great effect to prepare the way for the
wonderful interlude before the Finale. The last move¬
ment affords, in its second subject, one of the very
few instances in which Schumann can be accused of
1 having adopted the idea of any other composer. The
| similarity, nay, identity, between this and an episode
in the Larghetto of Beethoven’s second Symphony, has
been often pointed out, and indeed it could hardly
escape the observation of any person acquainted with
both works. Of all the Symphonies, if that in B flat is
the brightest and happiest, that in D minor is by far
the most passionate and deeply felt.

We now have to consider a work dating from 1846,
just halfway between the first and second recensions
of the D minor Symphony. Written, or at least
sketched, as Schumann himself tells us, at a time of

I

fcONGS- 7 -CONCERTED AND ORCHESTRAL WORKS. 81

great physical suffering, the Symphony in C major
(op. 61) is to be regarded as reflecting the struggle of
the composer's spirit* with the overpowering depression
induced by his bodily weakness. “ The first move¬
ment," he says, “ is full of this contest, and its cha¬
racter is one of caprice and defiance" ( launenhaft ,
widerspenstig). .The motto of this Symphony—for
like its companion in D minor it has a motto—is the
trumpet-call with which it opens; it is used less con¬
stantly, but is more striking when it appears, than the
arpeggio in that work. It reappears at the close of
the Scherzo, and forms an important factor in the
coda of the Finale. The Scherzo is no less 1 defiantly
capricious than the first movement ; it is in 2—4 time,
and has two Trios, the first of which is one of those
charming dialogues between wind and strings that
are so characteristic of Schumann, while*the second is
an example of wonderful ingenuity and beauty of or¬
chestral effect. It is impossible to convey in words
any idea of the beauty of the slow movement. In
addition to its felicity of invention, its passionate
expression, its clearness of form, and originality of
instrumentation, it has a feeling of perfect maturity
and repose which raises it to a higher level than either
of the former slow movements. Its subject is brought!
in again with the happiest results in the working out 1
of the Finale, which forms a vigorous close to this most
interesting work. One pecu liarity of form ^which it
has in common with the Finale of the D minor Sym¬
phony may be mentioned. After the “ working-out"
the first subject does not reappear, but in its.stead a
new subject is introduced. This subject, in the C \

- a

82

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

I

I

major Symphony, though new as regards that work, is
j not new in music, for it has done duty before in one
1 of Beethoven's songs, “ An die feme Geliebte," and
\ also in the Andante of Mendelssohn's “ Hymn of
\ Praise." It is so perfectly fitted for its present posi-
\ tion, however, that it is only the most captious of
\ critics who would find fault with it for not being en¬
tirely new.

“"Between this and the next Symphony there is again
an interval, this time of four years. The last of the
Symphonies, in B flat (op. 97), is almost the last work
of its author of which it may be said that no falling-off
in power, no decrease in brightness, and no signs of
the final morbid condition of his mind, can be perceived.
In 1850 he had just taken up his abode at Diisseldorf,
and, as we have seen, he looked forward to his new life
there with the brightest hopes. The “ Rhenish " Sym¬
phony, as it is generally called, reflects this sanguine
mood with the utmost clearness; nor is that all, for it
portrays most distinctly the impression produced on
the composer by the new scenes in which he found
himself. He tells us himself that it was the first sight
of Cologne Cathedral that suggested the composition
to his mind. During a visit to that city Schumann
was present at Archbishop von Geissel's elevation to
the cardinalate, and the effect produced on his imagi¬
nation by the ceremony found expression in the fourth
movement of the Symphony, to which he at first
intended to give the title “ In the style of an accom¬
paniment to a solemn ceremony'’ (im Gharakter der
Begleitung einer feierlichen Ceremonie), He discarded
this name, however, before the publication of the work.

SONGS—CONCERTED AND ORCHESTRAL WORKS. 83

as he had the “ Spring'' names in the B flat Symphony,
explaining his objection to such titles in the words,
€< One must not show his heart to people; a general
impression of a work of art suits them, better; then
they at least draw no wrong comparisons.” The
wholo work is instinct with the poetry and romance
which are to the German mind inseparable from the
Rhine and its neighbourhood; it is thoroughly national,
and it need not surprise us to find it much more
popular in style, and more generally appreciated than
the other Symphonies. The Scherzo, with its Yolks-*
lied-like subject, is the most charming, as the fourth
is the most solemn movement to be found in the
Symphonies; the latter, which serves to prepare tho
hearer for the bright Finale, is a marvel of constructive
ingenuity and orchestral effect.

Concerning the Overtures, the only other works
written by Schumann for orchestra alone, we need not
go into any degree of detail; nor can we do better
than quote Dr. Spitta's excellent summary of them in
his article on Schumann in Grove's Dictionary:—

" The poetical Con cert-Overture, invented by Men¬
delssohn, and‘practised by Bennett and Gade, was a
form never cultivated by Schumann. His Overtures
are c opening pieces/ whether to opera; play, or some
festivity or other. In this again he follows Beethoven.
His Overtures, like those of Beethoven, are most effec¬
tive in the concert-room, when the drama or occasion
for which they were composed is kept in mind. It is
so even with the wonderful ‘ Genoveva * Overture,
which contains something of Weber's power and swing;
but more than all it is true of the Overture to Byron's

o 2

84

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

‘ Manfred/ so full of tremendous passion. None of
the Overtures subsequently written by Schumann
reached this degree of perfection, least of all his
‘ Faust' Overture, though that to the f Braut von
Messina ' (op. 100) is not much inferior to ‘ Man¬
fred/ In the last year of his productive activity
Schumann was much occupied with this form, but the
exhausted condition of his creative powers cannot be
disguised, either in the ‘ Faust' Overture or in those
to Shakespeare's € Julius Caesar ' (op. 128), and to
Goethe's ‘ Hermann und Dorothea' (op. 136), which
last he had intended to set as an opera. The festival
Overture on the ‘ Eheinweinlied' (op. 123) is cleverly
worked, and a very effective piece d 3 occasion

CHORAL, NARRATIVE, AND DRAMATIC WORKS. 85

CHAPTER YI.

CHORAL, NARRATIVE, AND DRAMATIC WORKS.

The compositions to which the above title is to be
applied date, one and all, from the period of Schumann's
life which we called the third, viz., the years 1843—
1856; indeed, the first work of the kind, “Paradise
and the Peri,” was written in the first year of that
period. Of the composer’s friend, Emil Flechsig, who
now appeared as the translator of Moore's words,
mention has been already made. Much alteration was
necessary before the poem could be effectively set to
music, and this alteration was undertaken by Schumann
himself. The resulting libretto was fitted to music
which in construction approaches more nearly the
oratorio than any other form, since the dramatic
element is modified, if not removed, by the employment
of a “ narrator.'' This feature has in some quarters
been objected to on the ground that it is imitated from
the Passion-music of Bach; but the objection is a
purely superficial one, for Schumann uses not merely
one particular solo voice, but different soloists, and even
chorus, to deliver the narrative portions of the text.
Though Moore's poem contains much that is eminently
suited to musical treatment, there is yet a certain
similarity in the incidents and in the way they are told,

86

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

which makes it difficult, if not impossible, to avoid
some degree at least of monotony. So much being*
admitted, as it will be by those who have given any
attention to the subject of the musical capabilities of
words, it cannot be denied that Schumann's first
attempt to set a long narrative poem to music is
wonderfully successful. It is not until the third part,
which treats of the Peri's ultimate success, that the
interest begins to flag, or any feeling of monotony to
be experienced. The first scene or part is exceedingly
fine; the interest of the music is well sustained, and a
climax of very great beauty is obtained in the Finale,
“For blood must holy be." In the chorus which
describes the Indian conqueror, nothing can be more
admirable or more thoroughly characteristic of the
composer than the reticence and moderation which led
him to abstain from employing in the accompaniment
any of those bizarre effects of orchestration which
another musician might have delighted in, and used
with no sparing hand. Noble as is the close of the
first part, it is far eclipsed by more than one section of
the second; the Chorus of Genii and the Quartet,
“ For there's a magic in each tear," are beautiful in
different ways; the scene between the dying lovers,
and the final dirge, are intensely pathetic, and show
the dramatic side of Schumann's art, a side that is
more rarely revealed than any other. Part III., even
when the episodes which hamper its action are omitted,
cannot but strike the hearer as unnecessarily long,
though , the opening chorus is as graceful, and the
ensemble, “ 0 blessed tears," is as impressive as any¬
thing id the work. If the whole could have concluded

CHORAL, NARRATIVE, AND DRAMATIC WORKS. 87

with the number last mentioned, the feeling of anti¬
climax, which is now produced by the Finale, would
have been avoided. Notwithstanding the drawbacks
we have pointed out, the beauties of the work are
sufficiently numerous and striking to admit it to a very
high place among Schumann's compositions, and to
warrant us in endorsing the composer’s conviction,
expressed in a letter, “A soft voice seemed to say
while I wrote. It is not in vain that thou art writing."

The list of Schumann’s works for the years 1846—
1849 contains a large number of choral compositions,
for the most part short in extent, and comparatively
unimportant. It will be remembered that during that
time the composer held the post of conductor of a
choral society in Dresden, a post vacated by Hiller on
his removal to Diisseldorf. The choruses we have
mentioned were doubtless written for this society, and
we need not be surprised to find them suffering from
that want of spontaneity and inspiration which is the
besetting sin of nearly all such pieces d'occasion. The
best are the “ Jagdlieder" (op. 137), for male chorus,
with an ad libitum accompaniment for four horns, and
the Motett, “Verzweifle nicht" (op. 93), for double
male chorus. Among the choral works of 1849 there
are two to which the remark just made does not apply.
The " Requiem for Mignon " (op. 98) is one of the most
delicate and sympathetic works that ever came from
Schumann’s pen. It would be impossible to imagine
any setting of the exquisite passage in “ Wilhelm
Meister " which would reflect more faithfully the spirit
of Goethe's purest conception. The other exception is
the setting of Hebbel’s “ Nachtlied " (op. 108), which

88

ROBERT SCHUMANN,

displays greater power of choral treatment than any
earlier work for chorus alone. Beside the choral
works of this period there are three compositions for •
concerted solo voices which may be spoken of in this
connection, since they date from the same year as the

Requiem ” and the “ Nachtlied.” The " Spanisches
Liederspier* (op. 74), the “ Minnespiel ” (op. 101), and
the “ Spanische Liebeslieder (op. 138), are all in the
same form, that, namely, of a song-cycle in which the
separate members are now allotted to a single voice and
now set as Duets or Quartets. The arrangement has a
wonderfully good effect, and the cycles are among the
most attractive works of the composer, though they
have not hitherto attained the popularity to which they
are entitled. Of late years, however, the form has
found such wide acceptance through the medium of the
beautiful “ Liebeslieder” of Brahms, that we may hope
that Schumann’s cycles, which doubtless suggested the
form to the younger composer, may soon reach at least
an equal measure of renown.

Of the circumstances which led to the composition of
Schumann’s single opera, we have spoken in another
place. The reader will remember that he was obliged
to construct his own libretto, having been unable to
induce Hebbel to modify his sensational play of
“ Genoveva ” to suit his (Schumann’s) ideas of what an
opera should be. His praiseworthy efforts to soften
down the horrors of the drama and to bring it more
into harmony with Tieck’s dramatic poem on the same
subject, unfortunately resulted only in the diminution
of the power and interest of the play. The character
of Golo, the servant to whose care Genoveva is confii3 3ft "»>

CHORAL, NARRATIVE, AND DRAMATIC WORKS. 89

by her too trusting husband, and who betrays his trust
in the most infamous manner, first assailing the lady’s
virtue, and then, in revenge for her resistance, traducing
her to his master, is one for which the sympathies of
an audience cannot possibly be enlisted. The expedient
of making him act in obedience to the commands of
the witch Margaretha, and thus transferring some of
the responsibility of his guilt to her, is not very success¬
ful, nor does it tend to strengthen his character. Nor
when we come to consider the music are matters much
better in this respect. Golo's lovely song in the first
act is false to his character as it is revealed in the later
scenes. If his sin had been one which proceeded from
uncontrollable passion moved by a sudden impulse, if
we had been permitted to see him repentant, not merely
remorseful, and if he were represented as confessing
his crime to the master whom he had outraged, then
the first song might be regarded as true to his better
self. But the pertinacity with which he urges his
hateful suit, and the diabolical ingenuity of the plan by
which his revenge is brought about, preclude the
charitable supposition suggested at the opening. A
suggestion was made to Schumann by a well-known
musical savant in Leipzig to the effect that a scene
between Golo and Siegfried should be inserted near
the close of the opera, to satisfy poetical justice. But
even the contemplation of such a scene was too painful
for the tender-hearted composer, and so the opera lost
a number which would have given it that dramatic
intensity and propriety which it now lacks. Another
passage which, though of great beauty so far as music
is concerned, is yet terribly undramatic, is the opening

90

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

scene of Act III. In fact the only part which has
consistency and truth is that allotted to the long-suffer¬
ing heroine, whose character is, more than any other,
capable of lyrical treatment. But once consider the
work from a musical point of view alone, and it will be
found full of beauties of the highest order. The whole
of the first act, and more particularly the march and
. the tenor solo,—the first Duet and the Finale in Act
II.,—the opening of Act III., and many passages in the
magic-mirror scene, where Margaretha shows Siegfried
the fictitious evidences of his wife’s guilt,—Genoveva’s
solo and the ensemble before the Finale of the last act,—
all these are but examples of the musical beauty which
goes through the whole. Like Weber’s “ Euryanthe,”
from which, by the way, Schumann got several sug¬
gestions, “ Genoveva ” must live by its musical beauty
alone; and the fact that it has hitherto had but a
precarious hold upon the operatic stage of Germany is
a matter for regret rather than, surprise.

Though “Genoveva” is the only opera, properly
speaking, composed by Schumann, there is another
. work intended for theatrical performance, which, small
as it is in extent, is entitled to a very high position
among the master’s works. The music to Byron’s
“ Manfred” (op. 115) was written, like the greater
part of “ Genoveva,” in 1848. Though dramatic in
form, the poem is so essentially undramatic in character
that its presentment upon any other stage than that
of Germany is out of the question. There, however,
. it is still occasionally performed, in conjunction with
Schumann’s music. The work ha£ few, if any, of the
elements which make incidental stage music effective.

CHORAL, NARRATIVE, AND DRAMATIC WORKS. 91

Like “ Genoveva,” it must be judged exclusively as,
pure music, without reference to its theatrical purpose,
and as a poetical transcript in music of the feelings
excited in the reader of Byron's drama. The overture,
a serious and impassioned composition, which would
seem to have been written first, without reference to
the rest of the music, is perhaps the best of Schumann’s
overtures in point of sustained power and interest. Of
the vocal portions, the choruses are the best, showing
as they do a greater freedom and ease of treatment
than any former choral work of the composer’s; the
Hymn of the Spirits of Ahrimanes, and the final
Requiem, are particularly fine. The invocations in the
earlier scenes are less interesting; the absence of
dramatic treatment makes itself unpleasantly felt. The
finest sections are the “ melodramas,” all of which
have great musical beauty, though their dramatic
connection with the passages they are intended to
accompany is of the slightest. The whole scene between
Manfred and Astarte suggested an orchestral number
of the greatest refinement and sympathetic beauty. A
characteristic instance of the composer’s gentleness of
disposition as contrasted with the gloom of the poet
whose words he was illustrating, is found at the close
of the “ Manfred ” music, where the Requiem Chorus
sheds over the final moments of the drama a glow of hope
that is not even suggested in Byron’s work. It has
been truly said that the music, in spite of its great
beauty, finds its proper place neither on the stage nor
in the concert-room; its effects are too delicate and
subtle, and not sufficiently dramatic for the theatre,
and on the other hand it is difficult to keep the action

92

R0BEET SCHUMANN.

of tlie play before the minds of a concert audience. If
the “ symphonic poem” had been invented in Schu¬
mann’s day, or rather, if it had at that time acquired
the general acceptance it has since obtained, the
“ Manfred ” music would have been a perfect example
of the form, for as a poetic rendering in music of the
impression produced by the play, nothing can be
finer or more deeply felt than Schumann’s composi¬
tion.

In musical importance, as in extent, the “ Scenes
from Goethe’s Faust” are to be regarded as the
greatest work of his later years. It is, moreover, of
the highest interest to the student of the composer’s
life, for in no other of his productions are we allowed,
as we are here, to trace the gradual decadence of the
artist’s powers from their fullest and most mature
vigour to their final condition of obscurity and gloom.
The composition of the scenes occupied no small part
of his attention during a very considerable period of
his life, for the first scene in order of production was
completely sketched out in 1844, and the Overture,
which was written last of all, dates from 1853, the last
year of his creative activity. In 1848 the great
division of the work which stands as Part III. was
completed by the composition of the Chorus, “ A noble
ray.” It is occupied solely with the last scene of the
second part of the play, the Epilogue in heaven, which
treats of the final salvation of Faust. It was this
noble scene which first inspired Schumann to under¬
take the task of setting to music passages from the
most important poem of modern times. The mystical
leanings of his earlier days awoke again to find their

dHORAL, NARRATIVE, AND DRAMATIC WORKS. 93

true fulfilment in the pure and spiritual ecstasy of
Goethe’s vision.

Taken alone and as a complete entity, the " third
part ” may be considered as Schumann’s masterpiece*
All his noblest qualities as a composer are here seen
to the best advantage; his purity of emotion, his
keenness of spiritual insight, here find their proper
sphere, in a work the like of which no other composer
has ever attempted. The highest degree of celestial
exaltation, which others have now and then reached at
supreme moments of briefest duration, is by Schumann
sustained throughout the seven scenes which make up
the last division of the work. Even the short intro¬
ductory chorus, with its expression of heavenly calm,
raises the hearer into a region far above the earth.
The solos of the three anchorites, the music of which
is an admirable example of the composer's use of
contrast, and the graceful Chorus of happy spirits of
boys, lead most effectively into the scene of Faust’s
salvation, beginning “A noble ray of spirit-life."
This number, composed, as we have said, no less than
four years after the rest of Part III., is* surpassed by
none in variety and wealth of imagination. The effect
of the little Quartet, “We with all joy receive him " is
unspeakably beautiful; it is no doubt partly due to
the strange tonality, and to its extreme simplicity as
compared with the rest of the number. The fine
scene which follows, and in which Doctor Marianus,
Gretchen, the penitents and the Mater Gloriosa appear,
is again the work of 1844; it prepares us in the best
possible way for the splendid final scene, the “ Chorus
mysticus," which is one of the most beautiful of Schu-

94

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

mann’s creations, and certainly the most elaborate
vocal composition ever written by him, being set for
eight part chorus and solo voices, and treated in the
richest polyphonic style. After the Chorus had been
written some time, the composer considered that its
latter part, from the opening of the Allegro in F major,
“ The ever-womanly beckons us on,” had too much
the air of earthly enjoyment, and that it did not, with
all its intricacy of construction, reach the level of
spiritual purity which he had set himself to attain.
He therefore rewrote the Chorus from that point to the
end, and in many ways the work of 1847, for from
that year the second recension dates, is to be preferred
to the original version; it is more ethereal in character,
its construction is not so visibly elaborate, and there
is no alloy of earth in its happiness.

Between the completion of the third part, and
the composition of those scenes which followed it
in chronological order, only one year elapsed, but
that was the most prolific year of Schumann's life,
1849, in which no fewer than thirty works, each
bearing a separate opus-number, were written ; the
mere interval of time therefore hardly represents
the real space between the sections, or accounts
for their difference of style. The work of 1849
consists of Part I. and the first half of Part II.,
ending with the sunrise and Faust's awakening. The
opening scene, in the garden, is tender and idyllic, but
without any special power or charm; its effect is
greatly impaired by the orchestration, which the com¬
poser intended to make full and massive, but which he
only succeeded in making heavy. In this and the fol-

CHORAL, NARRATIVE, AND DRAMATIC WORKS. ,95

lowing number, Gretchen's prayer, a certain 'lack of
form is perceptible, which entirely deprives them of
the interest with which they would, no doubt, have
been invested had they been written in Schumann's
earlier years. The scene in the cathedral, which begins
with a dialogue of no great interest between Gretchen
and the evil spirit, ends with the solemn strains of the
“ Dies irae,” but there is a lack of impressiveness about
the scene which it is extremely difficult to account for.
Wasielewski says very truly, “ To paint the terrors of
the Last Judgment was not given to him; he had
another artistic mission to fulfil.” The “ Ariel '' scene
at the beginning of Part. II., set for soli and chorus,
is the finest section outside the third part; it is exqui¬
sitely graceful, as befits the subject, and its elaborate
construction helps rather than hinders the effect.
After the sunrise, a scene set for tenor solo, the accom¬
paniment to which is orchestrated with much of the
composer's old power, the awakened Faust (baritone)
has a long song of considerable length, with which the
portion written in 1849 closes.

The next year saw the completion of the scenes-
which close the second part and treat of the death
of Faust. The sombre character of these scenes fell
in with the composer's mood, and the music is
full of power which may fitly be called graphic,
though not dramatic. The work was now finished
all but the Overture, to the composition of which
Schumann looked forward with something like ap¬
prehension. To compose an Overture to “Faust,”
understanding by that name not one but both parts
of Goethe's poem; to give, within the narrow limits

fcOfcERtf SCHtJMANtf.

96

of the form, any foreshadowing of the innumerable
elements in the drama; and to provide a fitting in¬
troduction to musical scenes, many of which had been
written years before—this was a task before which
the boldest of composers might well have quailed.
At the beginning of 1851 he expressed himself thus (we
quote from Wasielewski): “ I am often haunted by the
thought of having to write an Overture to the ‘ Faust 9
scenes, but I am convinced that this task, which I
regard as the hardest of all, can scarcely be satisfac¬
torily achieved; the elements that have to be mastered
are too many and too gigantic. But yet it is necessary
that I should preface the music to ‘ Faust 9 with an in¬
strumental introduction, for otherwise the whole will
not be rounded off nor the various moods fitly ushered
in. Yet it cannot be undertaken on the spot; I must
await the moment of inspiration, then it will get on
quickly. I have been much occupied, as I have said,
with the idea of a c Faust , Overture, but as yet nothing
has come of it.” The moment of inspiration did not
arrive till 1853, when the powers of the composer were
all but exhausted. All things considered, the failure
of the Overture in point of artistic merit was a foregone
conclusion. A work of art which is so far from being
spontaneous that its author dreads to undertake it,
could scarcely succeed, even if the other conditions
were as favourable as possible; taking into considera¬
tion, therefore, the existing circumstances in this case,
we shall not be surprised to find the u Faust ” Overture
what it is, an obscure and gloomy composition, which
has the air of having been left without those finishing
touches which would in earlier years have been applied

CHORAL, NARRATIVE, AND DRAMATIC WORKS. 97

to it, and would have given it the neoessary clear¬
ness.

In the last years of the composer's public life, he
returned to a form that he had used with success in
one instance, “ Paradise and the Peri." The form of
the short ballad set for soli, chorus, and orchestra, com¬
mended itself to the wearied imagination of Schumann
as presenting ideas of a picturesque and romantic kind
in a small compass. Five works in this form are among
the latest productions of the master. In 1851 were
written, “ Der Rose Pilgerfahrt" (op. 112) and “Der
Konigssohn" (op. 116); in 1852, “ Des Sangers Fluch”
(op. 139) and “VomPagen und der Konigstochter ”
(op. 140); and in 1853, “Das Gluck vonEdenhall"
(op. 143). Of these the first, the accompaniment to
which was first written for the piano alone, the orches¬
tral setting being an afterthought, is by far the best,
since it contains one or two numbers, notably a dirge,
in which the musical treatment is well sustained, and
something of the old power displayed. Many beautiful
ideas are, as we might expect, to be found here and
there in the other ballads, but on the whole they are
by no means satisfactory. The narrative portions are
executed in a perfunctory style, as though the parts
that took Schumann's fancy had been written first and
the connecting links added afterwards, when his
interest in the subject had begun to fade. Besides
these, Schumann wrote in the last year of his creative
activity two ballads for declamation, but they have
little claim upon our notice beyond their novelty in form.

Among Schumann's works, there are very few com¬
positions to which the word “ sacred " in its ordinary

98

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

sense can be applied. That this arises from no want
of sympathy with, or reverence for, the highest purpose
and object of art, appears most clearly in a letter
written in January, 1851, in which the following pas¬
sage occurs: “ To apply his powers to sacred music
must ever remain the loftiest aim of the artist. But
in youth we are all too firmly rooted to earth with its
joys and sorrows; with advancing age the branches
stretch higher. And so I hope that the time for my
efforts in this direction is not far distant.” In a
former chapter mention has been made of his intention
of undertaking an Oratorio; the scheme fell through,
but the idea bore fruit in the shape of a Mass and
Requiem, both written in 1852,* and numbered op.
147 and op. 148 respectively. Both seem to have
been intended rather for sacred concerts than for the
church service, and the arrangement of the former is
at variance with the ritual of the Catholic Church.
Its best numbers are the “ Credo ” and “ Sanctus,” in
the latter of which the orchestration and arrangement
are especially fine. The Requiem contains many inte¬
resting passages, but that which is generally the most
effective section of the service, the hymn “ Dies irae,”
is the weakest portion of the music. He would almost
seem to have been hampered by the very familiarity of
the words, and to have been unable to give them satis¬
factory musical expression. Far better are the settings
of two hymns by Ruckert for Advent and the new year,
(opp. 71 and 144 respectively), both set for soli, chorus,
and orchestra, and both showing strength of construc¬
tion, and the highest earnestness of purpose. Not
only did the words offer a new field to the composer

CHORAL, NARRATIVE, AND DRAMATIC WORKS. 99

but since the hymns date from 1848 and the beginning
of 1850, it is not surprising to find in them more
sustained power than is to be seen in the later works
of which we have just spoken. In considering the
choral, and more especially the “ sacred” works of
Schumann, we are irresistibly driven to the conclusion
that to this most sympathetic of composers, from
whom the knowledge of no emotion in the individual
heart was withheld, it was a matter of extreme difficulty
to give expression to collective emotion, or to those
feelings which affect the whole of mankind in common.
That power, granted to Mendelssohn in so remarkable
a degree, was denied to Schumann. Those who would
see what Schumann can do in the realm of sacred
music must go to the third part of “ Faust,” to the
Requiem for “ Mignon,” or the close of the “ Manfred ”
music, all of which are on behalf of individual per¬
sonages, though they are sung by a chorus. A short
song of exquisite beauty and purely devotional cha¬
racter, also entitled “ Requiem,” and set to words attri¬
buted to Heloisa, the beloved of Abelard, must not be
forgotten in this connection; it is contained in the
collection published as op. 90.

At the close of our survey of the composer's works,
a passing mention must be made of one of the last
efforts of his expiring genius. Just before the clouds
that were to obscure his intellect, and ultimately his
life, gathered thick around him never to disperse, he
made a return to that form of composition in which he
had in early years created so many enduring master¬
pieces. The set of “ Five Morning Songs ” (“ Gesange
derFriih,” op. 133) for pianoforte solo, must ever be

h 2

164940

100

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

intensely interesting to the lover of Schumann's cha¬
racter as well as of his music. In spite of many
beautiful passages there is much that is gloomy, and
the forms, except in the case of the first piece, lack
conciseness; still now and then we come upon ideas
and phrases that have something of the brightness
suggested in the title. Connecting themselves as they
do by their form with the earliest efforts of the com¬
poser, they serve to bind together the whole circle
of his works, works which, whatever their musical
merit in relation to the productions of other com¬
posers, have certainly never been surpassed in respect
of the various kinds of interest that attach to their
composition.

SCHUMANN THE CRITIC.

101

CHAPTER VII.

SCHUMANN THE CRITIC.

It will be remembered that for a period of almost
exactly ten years the composer devoted himself with
great assiduity to the interests of a musical paper of
which he was one of the original founders, and ulti¬
mately the editor—the Neue Zeitschrift filr Musik.
Authorship was no unaccustomed pursuit to Schu¬
mann, for in very early days we hear of his helping
his father in some of his literary work, and no doubt
he would be thoroughly familiar with the business of
publishing. When we consider his early training, to
say nothing of his years of university study, we need
not be astonished to find him possessed of such literary
power as has been exhibited by no other practical
musician befdre or since, with the single exception of
Richard Wagner. But even more remarkable than
his literary talent is his power of discerning the merits
and demerits of musical compositions, in other words,
^his critical faculty. It has often been asserted, and it
is to a certain extent true, that the creative faculty
cannot coexist with the critical, and that an artist
can no more j udge of the works of other artists than
he can of his own. Schumann stands as a lasting re¬
futation of this assertion, or perhaps as the most pro-

102

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

minent exception to the rule. He possesses the cri¬
tical faculty to an extent that has never been equalled,
at all events in connection with music. There is no
quality to be desired in a musical critic which Schu¬
mann does not possess. That his artistic aims and
tenets were of the purest and highest, will not be
questioned even by the most superficial observer of
his life and works. The object of his own critical
labours, as of the journal which is inseparably con¬
nected with his name, was “ the elevation of German
taste and intellect by German art, whether by pointing
to the great models of old time, or by encouraging
younger talents.” To this maxim Schumann adhered
through life. MJnlike most critics, he found, or seemed
to find, praise easier than blame. In the great mass
of criticisms, from the first article in praise of Chopin ^
contributed to the Allgemeine Musikalische Zeiturig
in 1831, to the final eulogy of Johannes Brahms, dated 4
1853, expressions of grave censure are few and far
between. Whatever is praiseworthy receives its meed
of praise; faults are extenuated wherever it is possible,
and in the case of the errors of youth the composer
is corrected in the kindest way imaginable, and en¬
couraged to do better. In reading, after the lapse of
so many years, his opinions of men who have since
become well known,—opinions pronounced for the
most part upon some very early work,—it is wonderful
to see how in nearly every case the verdict of later
years has confirmed his judgment..

Scattered up and down his “Gesammelte Schriften,”
there is, besides the criticisms of composers and their
works, an abundance of sentences concerning music

SCHUMANN THE CRITIC.

103

in general which are worthy of a place among the
established and unalterable rules of art. “ A true
master draws to his feet not scholars, but masters.”
“ The artist is to choose for his companions those who
can do something besides playing passably on one
or two instruments,—those who are whole men, and can
understand Shakespeare and Jean Paul.” “ ‘ It has
pleased/ or 'It has not pleased/ say the people.
As if there were nothing higher than pleasing the
people.” “ To send light into the depth of the human
heart—that is the artist's calling.” Concerning the
critical faculty : “ I speak with a certain diffidence
of-jyorks of whose precursors I know nothing. I
like to "know something of the composer's school, of
his youthful aspirations, his examples, and even of his
actions and the circumstances of his life,—in a word,
of the man and the artist, and what he has done
hitherto.” "A musical work is to be regarded from
four points of view,—from that of form (the whole,
the separate divisions, the periods, and the phrases),
5f the musical composition (harmony, melody, con¬
struction, elaboration, style), of the particular idea
intended to be represented, and of the spirit that
inspired form, material, and idea.” Speaking of the
difficulty of judging a work before hearing it per¬
formed, he says: “ Though the inner hearing is the
finer musical organization, yet the spirit of the per¬
formance has to be considered, and the bright, living
sound has its peculiar effects, concerning which even
the good musician, who can, as it were, hear through the
eye from the paper, may be deceived.” Besides the
well-known “ Buies for young Musicians,” which need

104

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

not be quoted here, we find many hints of the greatest
value on the subject of early musical training. In
reviewing the performance of an infant prodigy, which
he does with exceeding kindness, these remarks occur:
“ Manual dexterity should be developed aS quickly as
possible into virtuosity. But that feat whereby our
young musicians have mostly obtained that name we
must withstand as utterly false—that, namely, of extem¬
pore playing in early life/' u Do not put Beethoven
too soon into the hands of the young; steep and
strengthen them in the fresh animation of Mozart/'
More important than the general aphorisms about
music are the opinions upon particular musicians, and
of these the most interesting to the reader of our own
day are the criticisms upon composers who were already
famous when Schumann wrote, or who have since
become so. The names of many composers of the
generation that is now passing away would not at this
day be so well known as they are, but for some friendly
word in the Neue Zeitschrift, without which their merit
would never have become known. As we have said in
an earlier chapter, there was no paper existing at the
time when the Neue Zeitschrift was started in which
^young composers could hope for anything like a fair
criticism of their works. The importance of Schu¬
mann's work, therefore, on the musical history of the
present century, can hardly be over-estimated. It
may not be uninteresting to gather from his writings
passages in which his opinion of the great composers
of different times is expressed.

\ His admiration of Bach is unbounded. Among the
most beautiful of the author's prose compositions is

SCHUMANN THE CRITIC.

105

one in which he describes how he tried to find the
grave of the great master, and received from the sexton
the answer to his inquiry, “But there are so many
Bachsafter which he turns to the description of
Mendelssohn's playing of one of Bach's organ chorales,
with the reflection that fame is something different
from a tombstone. The “ Crucifixus " in the Mass in
B minor is called “ a piece that is only to be compared
with other things of Bach, one before which all masters
of all times must bow in reverence." In another place
he calls him “ the greatest composer in the world."

Concerning Handel we find very. little except a
casual remark on his popularity in England.

Of Dom. Scarlatti he says : “ The marshalled array,
so to speak, of Bach’s ideas is not to be found in him;
he is far more superficial, fugitive, and rhapsodical; it
is difficult always to follow him, so quickly are his
threads interwoven and loosed again; in relation to his
time his style is short, pleasing, and piquant."

A movement by Couperin “ has a Proven£al touch
and tender melody."

Of Mozart’s “ Figaro “ The music to the first act I
consider the most heavenly that Mozart ever wrote.”

The most important utterance concerning Beethoven
is contained in the four articles, signed Florestan, Jo¬
nathan, Eusebius, and Raro respectively, upon the
subject of a monument to Beethoven. Elsewhere he
says of the C minor Symphony: “Often as it is
heard, both in public and in private, it exerts un¬
altered power in every age of life, like many great
natural phenomena, which, often though they are re¬
peated, yet fill us ever afresh with fear and wonder."

106

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

The chief tribute to the memory of Schubert is the
splendid history and analysis of the Symphony in 0
major, which, it will be remembered, was brought tp
light by means of Schumann, and in which he naturally
felt a special interest. The article, which was written
with the pen that Schumann found lying on Beethoven's
grave, is delightful from beginning to end, and
abounds in short graphic touches, some of which, like
that in which he describes the Symphony as “ heavenly
length ” (himmlische Lange), will only be forgotten
when the music itself shall have passed into oblivion.

In a review of one of Cherubini's Masses the follow¬
ing admirable touch occurs: “ Those passages which
sound even secular, out of place, and almost theatrical,
belong, like the incense, to the Catholic ceremonial,
and affect the imagination so that one seems to have
before one's eyes all the pomp of that service.”

\For Weber he has all the romanticist's sympathy.
“ Euryanthe ” is spoken of in terms of unqualified ad¬
miration, which is not surprising when we remember
what an influence that work had on iC Grenoveva.”
" The opera cost him a piece of his life. True; but
through it he is immortal.” It is “ a chain of brilliant
jewels from beginning to end.”

For another eminent romanticist, our own John
Field, he has “ nothing to say but unending praise
and for Field's greater disciple, Chopin, he cherished
the most affectionate admiration throughout his life.
On his behalf that extraordinary first-fruit of Schu¬
mann's literary undertaking, “ Ein Werk II.,” of which
mention has already been made, was written. Those
who know and love Chopin's later works may not think

SCHUMANN THE CRITIC.

107

the “ La ci darem " variations in any respect remark¬
able ; all the more .then must they wonder at Schu¬
mann's discernment of the promise which they contain.
In a review of his second Concerto, Schumann, in the
character of Eusebius, says: “ He had his education
from the greatest,—from Beethoven, Schubert, and
Field. We may suppose him to have received from
the first his daring spirit, from the second his tender
heart, and from the third his facile hand." One of
the best and wisest articles in the collection is one in
which some of Chopin's pianoforte works are reviewed,
and in which the composer is warned against confining
himself to pianoforte writing, since there is a danger
of his reaching no • higher a level than that which he
had already attained. The article is doubly interest¬
ing as it is dated 1841, and thus was written just
after Schumann had emancipated himself from his ex¬
clusive devotion to piano composition. The final sen¬
tence is very characteristic : “ The Waltz " (op. 42, in
A flat, with the cro&s-rhythm) “ is, like his earlier ones,
a drawing-room piece of the noblest kind ; if he were
to play it at a ball, thinks Plorestan, at least half the
ladies who danced ought to be countesses." Chopin's
admirers will hardly agree with Schumann's opinion
of the Funeral March, and the movement which follows
it; in a review of the whole Sonata, this passage occurs:
“ There follows, even gloomier, a Marcia Funebre,
which has something almost repulsive in it; in its
stead an Adagio, perhaps in D flat, would have had
an incomparably more beautiful effect. Then what
comes in the last movement under the heading
‘Finale' is more like a mockery than music. Yet

108

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

one must admit that even from this unmelodious,
joyless movement a peculiarly weird spirit holds us
in its thrall, so that we listen till the end, spell¬
bound, powerless to resist its influence, without
murmur,—but also without praise; for music it is not.
So closes the Sonata as enigmatically as it began, like
a sphinx in mocking laughter/' For the gloomy side
of Chopin’s nature Schumann had little sympathy.
A notice of the Tarantelle (op. 43), couched in no
favourable terms, is followed by a review of Stern dale
Bennett’s Rondo Piacerole (op. 25), which begins with
these words: (i After the composition just mentioned
Bennett's seems like a dance of the Graces after a
witches’ revel.”

For the composer last named Schumann had a
warm affection, both as a man and as an artist. From
the time of his arrival in the musical world of Leipzig,
the “ Gesammelte Schriften ” are full of the most ap¬
preciative notices of his works. Appreciative they
are in the truest sense, for while their author shows
that he has no slight predilection for Bennett’s style,
he yet is able to estimate him at his true value, fully
recognizing the fact that he cannot claim a place among
the greatest composers, though he deserves a very high
one among those of less exalted rank. He is earnestly
recommended to devote himself to orchestral compo¬
sition, and to attempt the larger forms of art. He is
“ to turn from what is elegant and playful, and to find
a language for strength and passion.’'

The figure that is most prominent in Schumann’s
writings, and that may be considered the hero of the
“ Gesammelte Schriften,” is that of his greatest con-

SCHUMANN THE CRITIC.

109

^temporary, Mendolssohn. Each work of the com¬
poser's, as it is published or performed, is greeted
with the most generous and enthusiastic acclamation.
A passage, which is as remarkable for justice as for
beauty, must be quoted from a review of “ St. Paul."
He calls it “a work of the purest kind, a work
of peace and love. It would be wrong, and would
displease the poet, to compare it with the Oratorios
of Bach or Handel. In so far as all church composi¬
tions, all sacred buildings, or all pictured Madonnas
have something in common, they are alike; but Bach
and Handel wrote when they were men, and Mendels¬
sohn wrote almost as a youth."

He speaks of the Trio in D minor as “ the master-
trio of the present time, just as, in their own time,
were the Trios of Beethoven in B flab and D, and
that of Schubert in E flat.” In the same article we
meet with one of Schumann's most pregnant utter¬
ances; he calls Mendelssohn “ the Mozart of the 19th
century, the man who mostly clearly discerns and
reconciles the contradictions of our time." He then
proceeds: “And he will not be the last composer.
After Mozart came a Beethoven; the new Mozart
will be succeeded by a new Beethoven, ay, he is
perhaps already born." In all Schumann’s writings,
nothing is more remarkable than his absolute freedom
from jealousy, which in his position in relation to
Mendelssohn might have been so easily stirred up
in a less generous nature. At different times during
their lives attempts were made to bring the two
greatest musicians of their time into opposition, but
as far as Schumann was concerned, he was guiltless

110

BOBEBT SCHUMANN.

of even an envious thought. In this connection a
good anecdote is given in Jansen’s “ Davidsbiindler,”
to the effect that a certain celebrated musician spoke
slightingly of Mendelssohn in Schumann’s presence.
The latter sat silent for a time, as his custom was,
but at length he got up, took the speaker by the
shoulders, and with the words, “Sir, who are you,
that you dare to speak thus of a master like
Mendelssohn ? ” left the room.

v Among the men of lesser achievement, Heller and
Henselt receive almost unqualified commendation, and
their names are among those of most frequent
occurrence. The value of the former is well summed
up in the following sentence: “ He possesses an ex¬
traordinary power of arranging the mediocrities of
other composers, so that they sound like good original
compositions. We hardly know any other composer
who resembles him in being able to lose so little of
his dignity in a form which, from an artistic point
cf view, must always be looked upon with a certain
suspicion. Let him bestow some of his wealth upon
the amateur; for him he will build a bridge that
will lead to the understanding of the deeper mysteries
of art. He need not fear that his own better powers
will thereby be impaired.”

Yieuxtemps, who in another branch of art is akin
to these last, is called “ the most gifted of our younger
masters, who already stands so high that one cannot
contemplate his future without a secret dread.^

A considerable space is devoted to Berlioz, the
^ latest and most extreme of the Romanticists. His
Symphony called “ Episode de la vie d'un artiste ”

SCHUMANN THE CRITIC.

Ill

is minutely analyzed in one of the longest and most
detailed of Schumann's reviews. Great admiration is
expressed for his new orchestral effects, as for his
boldness and originality, while at the same time the
critic is by no means blind to his defects, as for in¬
stance the poverty of his melodies and the lack of
sustained power. In the course of an interesting
review of the “ Waverley ” Overture, he says, “ Ber¬
lioz’s music must be heard to be appreciated,” and
€< One does not know whether to call him a genius or
a musical adventurer.” Apropos of the meanings which
had been looked for in this Overture, he makes this
characteristic protest: “ Heavens, when will the timo
come when we shall no longer be asked what we mean
by our divine compositions; look for the fifths and
leave us in peace.” Several other articles on Berlioz
not contained in the t€ Gesammelte Schriften ” are
given by Jansen. In one of these we meet with an
utterance of Schumann's in later life: “I expressed
my opinion that there was a divine spark in this
musician, and hoped that riper age would purify
and glorify it to the clearest flame. Whether this
wish has been fulfilled I know not, for I am not
acquainted with the works of Berlioz's mature
manhood.”

Liszt comes in for more commendation than we
should have expected Schumann to bestow. Speaking
of his great set of studies, he says : “ His own life
stands in his music. Taken early from his fatherland,
thrown into the exciting atmosphere of a large town,
wondered at even as a child and as a boy, he appears
in his earlier compositions now as longing for his

112

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

German home, and now as frivolous, and brimming
with the light froth of the French nature.”

It is deeply interesting to find him criticizing the
performances and productions of her who, as Jansen
says, “ filled his life with the sunshine of love.”
When Clara Wieck. was a mere child, her playing
drew from Schumann his second prosa composition,
an article contributed in August, 1832, to a periodical
called the Comet , and couched in terms of the most
enthusiastic admiration. In the following year he
says, in writing to a friend concerning her, “ Think of
perfection, and I will agree to it.” In the last letter
of his that has been published, which bears the date
of January, 1854, he alludes to his wife’s rendering
of his latest work, the “ Morning Songs,” in a manner
which shows that his opinion of her supreme artistic
powers had undergone no change. In the Neue Zeit-
schrift her figure, generally veiled under one of the
Davidsbiindler disguises, is of frequent occurrence,
and some of her compositions are reviewed. It is not
difficult here and there to discern the lover beneath
the critic’s mask, although in no instance can the
author be accused of undue partiality.

Among the younger men whom Schumann helped
\ to usher into fame, Gade receives the greatest amount
of attention, his early works being exhaustively and
most wisely criticized. The critic evidently delights
m the musical possibilities in the composer’s name,
noticing that the letters which compose it are iden¬
tical with the names of the open notes on the violin.
On the occasion of Gade’s departure from Leipzig,
Schumann wrote in his album a little musical setting

SCHUMANN THE CRITIC.

113

of the words “ Auf Wiedersehn ” (au revoir ), using as
a bass the notes 0 a d e and a d e (farewell).

Among the later articles there is one dated 1848,
in which a set of songs by Robert Franz is sympa-
thetically reviewed, and the composer hailed as a
transmitter of the true traditions of the song-form.
The criticism is all the more valuable as coming from
one who, three years before, had written some of the
most beautiful songs that have ever been given to the
world.

By far the most significant of the articles which
have for their object the encouragement and vindica¬
tion of young musicians is that entitled, “ Neue, ^
Bahnen,” of which mention has been already made.
Written in 1853, long after the author had given up -
his literary work altogether, it brings before us the
figure of the composer, at the end of his course, con- "
sciously and formally handing on the high traditions
of classical form to a rising, youthful genius whom
he feels to be worthy of them. And that Johannes
Brahms has kept them pure and undefiled will not be
doubted or denied by any musician by whom his
works have been carefully and thoroughly studied.

The Neue Zeitschrift was exceedingly successful,
and naturally had considerable influence in the world
of music. Many a composer with such an influence
at command, would not have scrupled to use it on
behalf of his own productions, nor would much blame
attach to such a procedure. But to the high-minded
nature of Schumann nothing could be more abhorrent.
The casual reader of the “Gesammelte Schriften*
would scarcely suspect, if he did not know beforehand,

i

114

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

that the writer was a composer at all, for the infre¬
quent allusions to his own works are so cursory when
they do occur that they might well escape observation.
The longest criticism of a work of his own occurs in
an article on Franz Liszt, that artist having played
the “ Carnaval ” at one of his own concerts. After
devoting considerable attention to the other numbers
in the programme, he gives a very short account of
the origin and general scope of his composition,—
in which, by the way, he alludes to the lady to whom
the “ Carnaval ” was dedicated as " a musical acquaint¬
ance,^—and goes on to say: “ Though there is much
that may please one person or another, yet the moods
of the music are too constantly changing for an entire
public, that does not want to be scared off every
minute from one thing to another, to follow.” In
letters to intimate friends he speaks, on rare occasions,
more freely about his productions. One of the most
interesting letters given by Jansen is addressed to
Verhulst, and bears the date June, 1843. It contains
the following passage: “Much in my Quintet and
Quartet will appeal to you; there is in them real
life and movement. The Variations for two piano¬
fortes, &c.” (see p. 61), “I have just heard for the
first time; they did not go particularly well. • They
will have to be practised; their mood is very elegiac,
and I think I must have been rather melancholy when
I wrote them.”

In the case of two composers, Schumann has often
been accused of forming and pronouncing an unfair
judgment, or at all events one in which the majority
of cultivated musicians cannot agree. These two are

SCHUMANN THE CRITIC. 115

^ Meyerbeer and Wagner. His opinion of the former was
certainly in the highest degree unfavourable. In his
criticism of the (i Huguenots ” he makes the nearest
approach to invective that is to be found in his
writings. Before we join in the accusation, we must
remember that Schumann’s artistic convictions were
diametrically opposed to the operatic method and
style of Meyerbeer, who never hesitated to sacrifice
whatsoever did not add to. the stage effect, or to use
means which must be admitted to be meretricious in
order to gain his ends. The delicate details by which
Schumann attained, in his songs, his wonderfully true
delineations of character and emotion, were altogether
out of Meyerbeer’s reach ; but on the other hand they
are utterly unsuited to the theatre, where they produce
very much the same effect as if the subtlest touches
of Turner’s hand had been applied to scene-painting.

. Another thing which will be perceived by the careful
reader of the article in question, and which will help
to exonerate the author from the charge brought
against him, is that he attacks, not so much Meyerbeer
himself, as those foolish admirers of his who wished
to claim for him a place in the highest rank of com¬
posers. Could Schumann have foreseen the present
position of Meyerbeer in the estimation of musicians,
and have realized that no one would wish to place
him beside Mozart, Beethoven, or even Mendelssohn,
he would surely have hesitated to pour out the vials
of his wrath. Perhaps his bitterest expression, if ex¬
pression it can be called, occurs in the “ Theaterbiich-
lein,” a group of short operatic criticisms given at the
end of the collected writings, where the heading

i 2

116

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

“ Prophet von Giac. Meyerbeer ” is followed by
nothing but the date and a little black cross, as though
to indicate a wish that the dead composition might
rest in peace.

The passages in the “Gesammelte Schriften” in
which Wagner’s name occurs are certainly, on the
whole, of a disparaging kind. But only one of the
short paragraphs in which he is mentioned refers to
him as a composer. Of the others, one finds fault
with his additions to Gluck's “ Iphigenia/’ and one
with his reading and interpretation of “ Fidelio.’'
Schumann had quite enough of the purist in his dis¬
position to prevent his approving of any innovations
in the score of a classical work, but be this as it may,
nothing is said of Wagner as a writer of stage music,
except in the few lines that refer to “ Tannhauser,"
in which Schumann forbears to criticize the work in
detail, withholding his ultimate opinion till a later
occasion. He fully recognizes the claims of the opera
to a more thorough examination, while confining him¬
self to the following remarks, which are all the criti¬
cism he gives his readers : “ It certainly has a stroke
of genius. If his music were only as melodious as it
is spirited, he would be the man of the time." This
criticism is not to be taken as the author’s final
opinion, for he afterwards wrote a longer and more
appreciative notice of the same work, which, however,
does not appear in his collected writings. We cannot-
look for very enthusiastic admiration of Wagner from
Schumann, for what was said above concerning'
Meyerbeer holds good, though in a far less degree,
of Wagner, who, though he never sacrifices anything'

SCHUMANN THE CRITIC.

117

to stage effect, yet uses it as an important factor in
his work. There was thus a divergence in artistic
tenets between these two great men, and it was not
lessened in their personal relations. Their opinions
of each other are placed in amusing juxtaposition in
E. Hanslick's “ Musikalische Stationen." Wagner ex¬
pressed himself thus to the author in 1846 : “ Schumann
is a highly gifted musician, but an impossible man.
When I came from Paris I went to see Schumann; I
related to him my Parisian experiences, spoke of the
state of music in France, then of that in Germany,
spoke of literature and politics, but he remained as
good as dumb for nearly an hour. Now one cannot
go on talking quite alone. An impossible man! "
Schumann's account, apparently of the same interview,
is as follows: “I have seldom met him, but he is a
man of education and spirit; he talks, however, un¬
ceasingly, and that one cannot endure for very long
together."

If after all the critic is to be accused of narrowness
of view in the case of these two composers, there are
numberless passages in the collected writings which
prove that, as a rule, his opinions were broad enough
to please the most eclectic and universal of music-
lovers. Though in one place he says of Eossini, “ He
is the most excellent scene-painter,—but take away
fro.m him the artificial light and the seductive distance
of the theatre, and see what remains," he reckons the
“ Barbiere " as one of the “ first comic operas of the
world," the others - being “ Figaro," and Boieldieu’s
“ Jean de Paris," and in another place he speaks of it
as " cheering, spirited music, the best that Rossini has

118

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

ever written/' No work of Bellini’s is directly
criticized, but his name is not unfrequently mentioned,
and sometimes almost with approbation. There is a
characteristic story in Jansen’s book, which tells how
he suspected himself of having been moved to tears by
an aria of Donizetti's, and how he was greatly relieved
when he succeeded in proving to his own satisfaction
that it was the voice of the singer, not the beauty
of the music, that had touched his heart.

In the earlier part of the collection we find a rich
fund of humour perpetually revealing itself, as well
as a vein of gentle satire which is used more often to
soften the sting of the blame that is to be bestowed
than to give it an additional poignancy. A Sonata by
a certain count who was addicted to amateur composi¬
tion is reviewed by “ Eusebius," who affects to treat
it as the work of a young lady, and to give the
imaginary composer much good advice couched in the
most courteous terms. At the close “ Florestan"
adds the words, “ How slily my Eusebius goes round
about! Why not say plainly, the count has much
talent, but has not studied enough." In a review of
twelve studies by Cramer he feigns that the title-page
has been lost, and makes various guesses at the com¬
poser's name, according to the style and character of
each study. In writing of some young lady's rondo ,
he lessens the severity of his criticism by couching it
in English. After a punning allusion to her lack of
hearty and her similarity in style to Herz, he goes on :
“The hand yields not in whiteness to the keys it
touches. I could indeed wish that the Diamonds which
adorn it existed in the mind,—yet I would take the

SCHUMANN THE CRITIC.

119

hand, if You would give it me, with this single promise
on your part, that You would never compose anything.”
Speaking of the four Overtures to “Fidelio,” he
tlianks the Viennese of 1805 for their want of appre¬
ciation of the first Overture, in consequence of which
the world was enriched by the other three. A very
prolific composer is told that “ if he had not got to
his op. 1 250 he would be farther on,” implying that his
desire for publicity has hindered his artistic progress.
The scholastic Philistines are well described: “ Accord¬
ing to them Beethoven never wrote a fugue, nor was
he capable of writing one, and even Bach allowed
himself liberties over which one can but shrug one’s
shoulders; the best instruction is only to be got from
Marpurg.”

He had a pleasant way of reviewing a mass of music
that was not very interesting. He makes the music
appear as a subordinate accessory in a narrative or
sketch. In an article called “ The Psychometer ” he
describes with much elaboration a purely imaginary
machine, which is supposed to answer questions con¬
cerning the merits of musical compositions inserted in
it. Schumann’s opinion of the works to be reviewed
is of course given as an example of the use of the
instrument. In an article dated 1835, and quoted by
Jansen, the criticism of some pianoforte pieces is inter¬
spersed with scraps of overheard conversation, real or
imaginary. An article called “ Tanzliteratur ” notices,
among other things, compositions by Schubert and
Clara Wieck, and gives a most poetical account of
the lady’s playing, calling her “Zilia” throughout.
Another batch of dance music, among which are

120

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

waltzes by Chopin and Liszt, is reviewed under the
guise of a description of a ball, where of course the
works to be criticized form the programme. It is
throughout most amusing, and one passage which
describes a certain Ambrosia hammering out a waltz
by Liszt with great and visible effort, is not unworthy
of Jean Paul.

Occasionally Schumann ventured into the region of
pure fiction, without reference to his critical function.
A fable of considerable length, written with a polemic
intention, in answer to some virulent attacks that had
been made upon him and his paper, will be found in
Jansen’s book, where also the circumstances which led
to its composition are given in full. Perhaps the most
touching and sympathetic of all Schumann’s prose
writings is an article, or rather a sketch, called “ The
Old Captain,” the central figure of which is evidently
drawn from the life. Besides many pathetic and
humorous touches, it contains a beautiful description
of the ideal relations between performer and listener.
t( To no one could I play better, or with greater plea¬
sure, than to him. His listening elevated me; I swayed
him and led him whither 1 would, and yet it seemed to
me that it all came first from him.”

One of Schumann’s most characteristic traits, both as
a critic and as a man, was his kindness to young musi¬
cians just on the threshold of their career. Of the
many instances of encouragement shown in the course
of criticism, one will suffice to quote. A young singer
had failed to produce any effect on the audience
in consequence of extreme nervousness. Schumann
wrote; “Nervousness is known to make itself felt

SCHUMANN THE CBITIC.

121

most in the higher notes, and once or twice the singer
missed her entry, a thing which has happened to a
thousand singers before her.” A delightfully interest¬
ing account of a visit paid to Schumann in 1840 is
given by the pianist Amalie Reiffel, and quoted entire
by Jansen; she describes her own feelings at being
obliged to play to the composer, and his kind recep¬
tion and treatment of her, in a most graphic and
charming manner. To another, and a far greater
artist, he spoke words of kindly encouragement, which
have been retained with affectionate remembrance ever
since. When Joseph Joachim first visited Leipzig as
a boy of thirteen, he played one evening at Mendels¬
sohn^ house. After playing the “ Kreutzer” Sonata
with his host he happened to sit near Schumann, who,
having remained silent for some time, at last leant for¬
ward and pointed to the stars, which were shining
into the room ; then, patting Joachim’s knee, he said,
“ Do you think they know up there that a little boy
has been playing down here with Mendelssohn ? ”

122

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

CHAPTER VIII.

SCHUMANN AND HIS CRITICS.

The reader of the lives of Mendelssohn and Schumann
cannot fail to be struck by the contrast between the
two careers. To the one, public life must have seemed
one long triumphal procession. From the time of his
arrival at Leipzig, when he was received with open
arms by the entire musical world, until his early death,
the enthusiastic adulation of the public never for an
instant waned. On crowds and on individuals alike,
the magical fascination of his personality exerted an
influence that was irresistible. When from Mendels¬
sohn^ pen were pouring in ceaseless rapidity composi¬
tions that could be understood and loved at once by all
who heard them, it was little wonder that the public
had no time or inclination to give to the work of Schu¬
mann that attentive study by which alone they can be
properly appreciated. Not that he was intentionally
ignored; the public at large could scarcely be expected
to realize his musical merits for themselves, and besides
this, he was almost entirely unknown in society, chiefly
owing to his silent, reserved manner and disposition.
We in England, who are accustomed to look upon
Madame Schumann with an additional interest and
reverence on account of her alliance with the composer.

SCHUMANN AND HIS CRITICS.

123

can scarcely realize that at one time his chief claim to
notice, in the eyes of the German public, lay in the
fact of his being her husband. Yet such was the case,
as there is abundant evidence to show. It is related
that after she had played at one of the small German
courts, her serene host asked her with great affability,
“ If her husband was also musical ? ''

Though he was so completely unknown to the general
public, there were yet a select few, critics and others,
by whom his works were appreciated and keenly ad¬
mired. In the first letter of Schumann's appended to
Wasielewski's “ Life,” an account is given to the writer's
friend Topken of an appreciative criticism which had
just appeared in the Wiener Musilcalische Zeitung (No.
26, 1832), and which the composer goes to the trouble
of transcribing. The article, which refers to the
“Abegg” Yariations and the “Papillons," was
written by the poet Grillparzer; considering the time
at which it was written it is remarkably appreciative,
and even reminds us now and then of Schumann's first
criticism of Chopin, though it is inferior to that article
both in musical knowledge and in imagination. The
young composer's boldness and independence are fully
recognized: “ He belongs to no school, but creates of
himself without making any parade of outlandish ideas,
collected together in the sweat of his brow; he has
made himself a new ideal world in which he moves
almost as he wills, and with a certain original
bizarrerie.”

Another favourable critic of some of Schumann's
early works was Franz Liszt, who wrote in the Gazette
Musicale for Nov. 12th, 1837, a thoroughly svmpa-

124

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

thetic and intelligent criticism of the Impromptus, op.
5, arid the two Sonatas, opp. 11 and 14. In giving
his opinion of the composer's works as a whole, he says
with great truth, “ The more closely we examine
Schumann’s ideas, the more power and life do we dis¬
cover in them; and the more we study them, the more
are we amazed at the wealth and fertility which had
before escaped us."

From the great French romanticist. Hector Berlioz,
there came no direct criticism of any work of Schu¬
mann's, but from an expression in one of his letters we
gather that he entertained at least a high respect for
his powers. He says that the Offertorium from bis
(Berlioz's) “Messedes Morts" met with unexpected
success, and “ won the invaluable approval of one of
the most remarkable composers and critics of Germany,
Robert Schumann."

The two Sonatas which Liszt had reviewed in the
Gazette Musicale were sent to Moscheles for notice in
Schumann's own paper. Beside the criticism itself,
which would naturally be of the most favourable kind,
there are some words quoted in Moscheles' “Life," from
his diary, which show that the writer only expressed
his true sentiments in the published article.

He says (we quote from Mr. A. D. Coleridge's trans¬
lation), “ For mind (Geist), give me Schumann. The
romanticism in his works is a thing so completely
new, his genius so great, that to weigh correctly the
peculiar qualities and weakness of this new school
I must go deeper and deeper into the study of his
works."

One of the most prominent figures in the musical

SCHUMANN AND HIS CRITICS.

125

world of Schumann’s time was Moritz Hauptmann, the
cantor of the Thomasschille in Leipzig, and the most
eminent theoretical musician of his day. In the highly
interesting series of his letters to Hauser, Schumann’s
name occurs very rarely. In one place, speaking of
the pianoforte works in the year 1839, he calls them
“ pretty and curious little things, all of which are
wanting in solidity, but are otherwise interesting.”
In one of his letters to Spohr we find that his opinion
has undergone considerable alteration. He says : “ I
have heard three Quartets ” (op. 41) “ by Schumann,
the first that he has written, which pleased me very
much; they caused me great astonishment concerning
his talent, which I did not think so very remarkable
when I heard some pianoforte things some time ago;
they were too condensed and scrappy, and constantly
fell into mere eccentricity. Here, too, there is no lack
of what is unusual, both in form and contents, but it is
made and held together with great power, and much is
very beautiful.”

Prom Mendelssohn’s strange silence on the subject
of Schumann as a composer, it may safely be concluded
that he did not appreciate him at his true value. He
recognized Schumann’s literary power and critical
acumen, but failed altogether to realize his true great¬
ness. Certain persons, who at one time devoted a
great deal of attention to the search for any evidence
that would prove the two greatest composers of their
day to have cherished animosity against one another,
made the most of the absence of Schumann’s name
from Mendelssohn’s published letters, but happily
there is plenty of proof that their relations were always

126

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

on the friendliest possible footing, though Mendelssohn
never repaid in kind the numberless tokens of Schu¬
mann's admiration, which were constantly appearing in
the Neue Zeitschrift.

For a number of years Sterndale Bennett, in like
manner, failed to appreciate Schumann's music; nor
is it hard to account for this, when we remember that
at the period when he enjoyed the closest personal
intimacy with the composer, 1 the years 1836 and 1837,
the latter had only written the earlier pianoforte
works, which were not at first received with any de¬
monstrations of delight by the musical world. It was
not until the composer had been at rest for many
years that the eyes. of his friend were opened to
the surpassing beauties of some of the finest works,
such as, for instance, the Symphonies and other orches¬
tral compositions. Yet, although his admiration was
limited, he acted the part of a true and loyal friend to
Schumann, being among the first and most eager sup¬
porters and promoters of his music in England. Many
of Schumann’s most important works were heard for

1 Some idea of this intimacy is given by the fact that, on
the occasion of one of those jovial evenings which were so fre¬
quently passed in the company of the composer, Bennett wrote
a little canon on the following words :—

“ Herr Schumann ist ein guter Mann,

Er raucht Tabak als Niemand kann;

Ein Mann vielleicht von dreissig Jahr,

Mit kurze Has’ und knrze Haar.”

(“ Herr Schumann is a first-rate man,

He smokes as ne’er another can;

A man of thirty, I suppose,

Short is his hair,*and short his nose.”)

SCHUMANN AND HIS CRITICS. 127

the first time in London under Bennett/s direction.
Another most ardent pioneer of Schumann's was Mr.
John Ella, who introduced nearly all the chamber
music to an English audience at the concerts of the
Musical Union. Mention must be made of the Phil¬
harmonic Society, at whose concerts at least two of
the symphonic works, and “ Paradise and the Peri ”
were brought out; also of the Cambridge Univer¬
sity Musical Society, under whose auspices the piano¬
forte Concerto, the “ Rheinweinlied '' overture, and the
“ Scenes from Faust '' (part III.) were first given in
England. But the greatest meed of praise is due to
the constant and indefatigable zeal of Mr. August
Manns and Sir George Grove, who at the Crystal
•Palace concerts did much, the one by his intelligent
and sympathetic interpretations, and the other by his
able and appreciative analyses, to transform the atti¬
tude of the British public towards Schumann's orches¬
tral works from one of scanty toleration to one of
admiring sympathy.

The worst enemies to the progress of Schumann's
popularity in this country were , the leading musical
critics, who set themselves systematically to pour con¬
tempt and even ridicule upon his works, whenever they
were performed. Without quotations it would be im¬
possible to give the reader any idea of the virulence or
the intemperance of these attacks, but it is undesirable
to give references by which the writers might be iden¬
tified, more especially as those very organs in which
the most abusive passages are to be found are those
which have since been most closely identified with the
cause of musical progress.

128

ROBERT SCHUMANN*

The attack began in a carefully indirect manner
in the course of a favourable notice of the “ Album
fur die Jugend.” “ These pieces, which the recondite
and mystical composer of the ‘ Kreisleriana/ g Para¬
dise and the Peri/ and ‘Genoveva/ would most
probably contemn as mere trifles,—shallow common¬
places—foolish, because they are pleasing and intelli¬
gible,—are, on these very grounds, among the most
acceptable of Dr. Schumann’s works. The writer’s
grim and gloomy works on a large scale are liked only
by a small congregation of admirers, which, happily
for the health of musical society, does not increase.”
This was in 1852. In the next year the same weekly
periodical published the following sapient criticism of
the Quintet: €S We must give up Dr. Schumann if this
be his most agreeable work. Straightforward enough
it is, and less freaked (sic) by uglinesses than is usual
with him; but in three of the four movements the
ideas are worn and stale, not to say frivolous. . . .
That which should be grand is only heavy,—that which
should be brilliant is only bustling,—that which should
flow, stagnates. ... On the whole, unpleasing pre¬
tention hiding real poverty occurs to us as the general
character of this quintet.”

In the spring of the year in which her husband
died, Madame Schumann paid a visit to England, and
played, among other things, his Duet for two pianos,
with Sterndale Bennett, and his pianoforte Concerto.
One of the critics, who was always good enough to
admire the lady’s playing, approved to some extent of
the Duet, but spoke, in criticizing the Concerto, of the
u efforts of the gifted lady to make her husband’s

SCHUMANN AND HIS CRITICS.

129

curious rhapsody pass for music , 1 ” and called “ many
of the bravura passages utterly extravagant.” The
reader who has felt the charm of the cross-rhythm in
the finale of this work will be surprised to hear, from
another critic, of “ the rondo (sic) to his piano Concerto,
where the monotonous limping of the second subject,
in place of piquing the ear, harasses it by producing
an effect of lameness which retards the animation of
the movement.”

In the way of sweeping assertions, the following
are unsurpassed; they occur in a criticism on the
Overture, Scherzo, and Finale (op. 52), when that work
was produced at the Philharmonic concert of April
4th, 1853. "An affectation, a superficial knowledge
of art, an absence of true expression, and an infelicitous
disdain of form have characterized every work of Robert
Schumann's hitherto introduced into this country.
. . . The convulsive efforts of one who has never
properly studied his art to hide the deficiencies of
early education under a mist of pompous swagger. . . .
The whole work is unworthy of analysis, since it has
no merit whatever.” In these years the orchestral
compositions were uniformly treated with contempt.
The Symphony in B flat is called by one critic " heavi¬
ness without pomp, and harshness without brilliancy.”
In a musical paper the Symphony in D minor is
reviewed on two occasions, separated by the interval of
a year, in terms which form, when read together, an
amusing and instructive commentary on the worth of
contemporary criticism. In 1857 we read, "A sort of
trio to the quick movement in the romanza consists of
gasping strains that may be likened to the final

130

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

breathing of a dying fish. . . . The finale is more
clear and rational, and for a very good reason,—the
reminiscences of Beethoven are absurdly palpable.”
In the following year the same organ expresses its
opinion that in the first movement “ some discords . . .
are enough to perpendicularize one's hair. In the
finale these painful noises are again indulged in. We
might put up with it to the end of the romanza, but
beyond this point the patience of an audience should
not be tried.” The “ infatuation ” of Mr. Manns in
producing the work is spoken of at the same time
with much condolence.

From these critics nothing was sacred. After the
terrible catastrophe of February 27th, 1854, when his
attempt to commit suicide necessitated his being placed
under restraint, it was deliberately asserted in a paper
devoted to the interests of music, that he was suffering
from an attack of delirium tremens !

On June 23rd, 1856, “Paradise and the Peri” was
performed at a Philharmonic concert, by her Majesty's
command, under the direction of Sterndale Bennett,
and with Madame Lind-Goldschmidt in the principal
part. This event was followed by an article in a
prominent daily paper which, for vigour of vitupera¬
tion and total disregard of truth, is happily without
parallel in the annals of English musical criticism. It
is impossible, without quoting the article in extenso , to
convey an idea of the rancour of its spirit, but we
must content ourselves with brief extracts. “What¬
ever has been presented from the studio of this illus¬
trious composer has met with a fiasco. • • • He began
nobly, as a critic and general writer upon music. But

SCHUMANN AND HIS CRITICS,

181

most unhappily he began to compose himself,—a mission
for which nature had never pointed him out. , . . Quick
to detect the weakness of others, he failed to acknow¬
ledge his own; and from small things to large (from
bad to worse), as blind impulse suggested and ambi¬
tion drove him on, he became transformed by degrees
from one of the friends to one of the enemies of art.
For a long time Schumann stood at the head of a
phalanx of apostates, who were only arrested for a time
by the short but brilliant career of Mendelssohn from
exercising a pernicious influence throughout the length
and breadth of Germany. ... A still more daring
and uncompromising innovator appearing, however,
in the person of Richard Wagner, Schumann from the
post of generalissimo subsided into one of the sub¬
sidiary officers of the new ' school/ His vanity was
hurt; his egotism received a deadly blow. . . . Though
backward to admit this new prophet at the beginning,
he was compelled to do so at the end. The result is
patent to the world. Schumann went mad, and Wagner
reigned alone. ... We have only to add that as a
musical composition it (i.e.' Paradise and the Peri')
is destitute of invention and wanting in intelligible
form; that its melodic ideas are as vague and common¬
place as its treatment, both for voices and instruments,
is unscholarlike. A less 'dainty dish * was assuredly
never 'set before the Queen/” Referring to the
same concert in another place, the same critic remarks,
"Robert Schumann has had his innings, and been
bowled out,—like Richard Wagner. 'Paradise and
the Peri* has gone to the tomb of the 'Lohengrins/”
The passage about the composer's ambition and
K 2

132

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

egotism is only equalled by the gratuitousness of the
assumption that his insanity was caused by jealousy
of Wagner. That the schools of these two composers
can ever have been considered as identical, seems to
us nowadays inconceivable ; they have diverged widely
enough in these later years to satisfy even the captious
critic whom we have just quoted, as is amply proved
by an utterance from the head-quarters of Wagnerism
concerning Schumann, which we shall presently have
to consider. The state of English opinion remained
very much the same, improving only by slow degrees,
until nearly ten years had elapsed since the. composer’s
death. The first sign of the general adoption of wiser
and broader views concerning Schumann was the
unanimously favourable reception of the “ Rhenish”
Symphony when it was given at one of Signor Arditi’s
concerts at Her Majesty’s Theatre in 1865. From
that time onwards the fame of Schumann has steadily
increased, and his music has gradually made its way
to the hearts of all real lovers of music in our country.

The German attack on Schumann, to which we
have just alluded, is to be found in the number
of the Bayreuther Blatter —the organ of the extreme
Wagnerian party—for August, 1879. The importance
of the article is not so much due to anything which it
contains, as to the quarter from whence it comes. If
it could be conclusively proved to represent the
opinions of the master himself, a certain historical
interest would attach to it, but as there is nothing to
show that Wagner was to be held in any way respon¬
sible for what appeared in the periodical, it must
stand or fall on its own merits exclusively. Without

SCHUMANN AND HIS CRITICS,

133

being known to fame himself, the writer bears a
surname which has become celebrated throughout the
musical world, and which therefore may be supposed
to carry a certain degree of weight in musical matters.
He poses as the defender of the classical composers
against the onslaught of the “ romanticist” Schumann,
whose antagonism to their cause he is at infinite pains
to establish. His line of argument would seem to be
something like this: “ The classicists and romanticists
must be eternally antagonistic the one to the other;
the former are all good, therefore the latter are all
bad. But Schumann is a romanticist ; he is therefore
a bad composer.” If we accept Coleridge’s dictum
that assertion is the strongest form of argument, we
must admit the strength of this writer’s position to
be absolutely impregnable, for it relies wholly upon
assertions, proof being apparently regarded as alto¬
gether superfluous. One of his assertions is as follows :
“ The great popularity of this author, if it lasts much
longer, will render the understanding and enjoyment
of all the classics of music difficult, if not indeed impos¬
sible.” Until some explanation is kindly vouchsafed
as to the manner in which the reputation of the great
masters is to be injured, we must continue to think
that their standing will not be materially imperilled by
the duration, not to say increase of Schumann’s fame.
During the greater part of the article, the writer
ignores altogether the possibility of any of Schumann’s
works being regarded as anything but “ romantic.”
He implies, in one place, that some of the larger
works may be considered to be in harmony with the
u classical” rules, for he owns, in the most candid

134

ROBERT SCHUMANN.

manner, to sympathizing with the celebrated sentiment
of Caliph Omar, on the occasion of the burning of the
Alexandrian Library, “ that those books which were
in agreement with the Koran were superfluous, and
those in opposition to it pernicious/' The writer is
in happy ignorance that, if his own dictum were
accepted and acted upon, all music written subsequently
to the close of the " classical 33 age,—whenever that
was,—would stand condemned, including the works
of that master in whose honour the Bayreuther Blatter
were founded.

As the Bayreuth attack was based, ostensibly, at
least, upon an imagined antagonism between Schumann
and classical composers, so the London attacks of
twenty years before were really dictated by a desire to
sweep away all suspected rivals from before the feet
of the adored Mendelssohn. This may, in some
measure, excuse the eagerness and bitterness of the
critics, though their virulence and intemperance are
unpardonable.

The fact that Mendelssohn's compositions were from
their first appearance received with universal admira¬
tion, while those of Schumann have waited so long for
general acceptation, is a direct consequence of the
differing theories of art pursued by the two men. The
former felt that nothing that could not at once appeal
to the world in general was worth saying in music;
the latter, that he must say that which was given him
to say, whether the public understood him or not.

The temptation to compare the relative greatness of
these two composers is strongest exactly at the time
when it is most impossible that such a comparison

SCHUMANN AND HIS CRITICS.

135

could be justly instituted. We, eveu yet, stand too
near them to be able to decide which is the greater of
the two. Those who stand at the foot of a mountain
cannot form a right judgment as to the comparative
height of its peaks; with increasing distance the
spectator's estimate becomes ever more and more just.
So it is with our opinion of these masters. We are
too much inclined to range ourselves on one side or
another, according to our various artistic creeds ; but
music is justified of all her children, and we may rest
assured, that high on the roll of her glorious sons, not
far from the names of Bach and Beethoven, are written
those of Mendelssohn and Robert Schumann.

THE END.

J

CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF
ROBERT SCHUMANN’S LIFE AND WORKS.

A.D. AGE. EVENTS OF HIS LIFE A HD COMPOSITIONS. PAGE

1810. Birth (June 8) . . . . . . . 3

1816. 6. Goes to Dohner’s school.3

1817. 7. Receives first musical instruction from Kuntsch 4

1819. 9. Taken to Carlsbad to hear Moscheles . . 4

1820. 10. Enters the Zwickau Academy .... 4

1821. 11. Accompanies at a public performance of “ Welt-

gericht ”.5

1825. 15. Death of his father.5

1828. 18. Matriculates at Leipzig as “ Studiosus juris ” . 5

Journey to Munich and Augsburg. Studies music

with Wieck.6, 7

1829. 19. Goes to Heidelberg (Easter) to study law. Holi¬

day trip to Venice.8-11

Polonaises for four hands, piano and string
quartet, and songs, all unpublished. Also
Nos. 1, 3,4,6, and 8 of “ Papillons,” op. 2. 8,11

1830. 20. Hears Paganini at Frankfort. Finally discards
* the law, and returns to Leipzig to study with

Wieck.11-12

His right hand crippled. Studies with Heinrich

Dorn . . ..14

Sketches for Toccata, op. 7, and “ Abegg ” varia¬
tions .11,12

“ Abegg ” variations, op. 1. . . . 48,123

Arrangements of Paganini’s caprices begun 11, 49

1831. 21. First musical criticism on Chopin’s variations,
published in Allgemeine Mnwkalische Zei-
tnng ........

15

138

CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF

A.D. AGE. EVENTS OF HIS LIFE AND COMPOSITIONS. PAGE

“ Papillaris,” op. 2, completed . . 15, 49, 50, 123

Allegro for pianoforte, op. 8.

1832. 22. Visit to Zwickau and Schneeberg in the winter.

Part of a symphony in G minor played at
Clara Wiecfrs concert at Zwickau (Nov. 18) 16

Six Intermezzi for pianoforte, op. 4 . . 16, 51

Studies after Paganini’s caprices, Book I., op. 3.16,49
Nos. 1, 3,12,13, and 15 from “ Albumblatter,”

1833. 23. Return to Leipzig (Riedel's Garten, afterwards

Burgstrasse).. 16,17

Death of Rosalie Schumann (Oct.) . . .17

Studies after Paganini’s caprices, Book II.,

op. 10 . ..17,49

Impromptus on an air of Clara Wieck, op. 5 17,124

Toccata for pianoforte, op. 7 . . .17

Sonata in G minor begun, op. 22 . . .55

1834. 24. Neue Zeitschrift projected, and first number pub¬

lished (April 3). Death of Schunke (Dec. 7) 18, 22

fitudes Symphoniques, op. 13 . . 21, 22, 53, 54

Carnaval, op. 9, begun.21,22

1835. 25. G minor symphony performed as a whole at

Zwickau.16

Mendelssohn comes to Leipzig (Oct.) . . 22

Carnaval, op. 9, finished . . .22, 52, 53, 114

• Sonata in F sharp minor, op. 11 . . 54, 55,124

Sonata in G minor, op. 22, except last movement 55
Nos. 2,4,11, and 17 of “ Albumblatter,” op. 124.

1836. 26. Beginning of affection for Clara Wieck . . 23

► Fantasia for pianoforte in C, op. 17 . . 55, 56

Sonata in F minor, op. 14. (“ Concert pour piano¬
forte seul ”) .... 56, 57,124

Nos. 5 and 7 of “ Albumblatter,” op. 124, and
No. 6 of “ Bunte Blatter,” op. 99.

kobert Schumann’s life and works. 139

A.D. AGE. EVENTS OF HIS LIFE AND COMPOSITIONS. PAGE

1837. 27. Wieck’s consent to the match asked and refused 23

Fantasiestiicke for pianoforte, op. 12 . . 58

“ Die Davidsbiindler,” op. 6 . • . .58

No. 8 of “ Albumblatter,” op. 124.

1838. 28. Journey to Vienna to arrange for publication

there of the Neue Zeitsclirift . . 23, 24

Kinderscenen, op. 15.

Kreisleriana, op. 16.

Novelletten, op. 21.

Scherzo, Gigue, and Roman za, from op. 32
Finale of sonata, op. 22 (see above) .

Nos. 9,10,14, and 18 of op. 124, and 2, 5, 7, 8,
and 9 of op. 99.

58

59

59

60
55

1839. 29. Return to Leipzig (April).24

Arabeske, op. 18.60

Blumenstiick, op. 19.60

Humoreske, op. 20.59

Nachtstiicke, op. 23.59

Faschingsschwank aus Wien, op. 26 . . .60

Fughetta, from op. 32 . . . . .60

Three Romances, op. 28. .

No. 19 of op. 124, and Nos. 1 and 10 of op. 99.

1840. 30. Degree of “ Doctor ” conferred by University of

Jena (Feb.).25

Lawsuit to obtain Clara Wieck’s hand . . 25

Marriage (Sept. 12)- ...... 25

Composes songs exclusively.

Songs (for one voice, unless otherwise described):—
Liederkreis (Heine), nine songs, op. 24.

“ Myrthen,” twenty-six songs (four books) op. 25.
Lieder und Gesange, five songs, op. 27.

Three poems (Geibel), 1st for two sopranos, 2nd
for three sopranos, and 3rd for small chorus
(“ Gipsy Life,” Zigeunerleben), op. 29.

Three poems (Geibel), for one voice, op. 30.

Three ballads (Chamisso), op. 31 ... 67

Six songs for male chorus, op. 33.

Four duets, soprano and tenor* op. 34.

140

CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF

A.D. AOS. EVENTS OF HJS LIFE AND COMPOSITIONS. PAGE

Twelve poems, “ Liederreihe ” (Kerner), op. 35.

Six poems (Reinick), op. 36.

Twelve poems from Ruckert’s “ Liebesfruhling,”
op. 37. (Nos. 2, 4, and 11 by Clara Schu¬
mann.)

Liederkreis (Eichendorff), twelve songs, op. 39 . 68

Five songs, op. 40.

“ Frauenliebe und Leben” (Chamisso), eight

songs, op. 42.68

Romanzen und Balladen, Book I. (3), op. 45.

„ Book II. (3), op. 49.

„ Book III. (3), op. 53.

Three two-part songs, op. 43.

“ Dichterliebe,” sixteen songs from Heine’s

“ Buch der Lieder,” op. 48 . . . . 65-67

“ Belsatzar ” ballad (Heine), op. 57.

“ Der Deutsche Rhein/* patriotic song for solo
and chorus (without opus number).

1841. 31. B flat symphony conducted by Mendelssohn in
the Gewandhans, March 31. The other
symphonic works of the year played on
December 6.

First symphony in B flat, op. 38. . . 76-78, 129

Overture, Scherzo, and Finale for orchestra, in E

(first recension of Finale), op. 52 . 78,129

Fourth symphony, in D minor, op. 120 (first

recension) . . . . 78,80, 129,130

First movement of piano concerto, op. 54 . . 74

Song, “ Tragodie ” (Heine), from op. 64.

Nos. 4,12, and 13 from bp. 99, and No. 16 from
op. 124.

1842. 32. Concert tour to Hamburg. B flat symphony

given there.26

Tour in Bohemia. Quartets played at David's
house.

Three quartets for strings, in A minor, F and A,

op. 41 . 69, 70, 125

Quintet for pianoforte and strings in E flat,

op. 44 .. 70,114,127

Quartet for pianoforte and strings in E flat,

op. 47 . . . . . . . 71,114

bobbrt Schumann’s life and works.

141

A.D. AGE. EVENTS OF HIS LIFE AND COMPOSITIONS. PAGE

Fantasiestiicke for pianoforte, violin, and violon¬
cello, Op. 88.71, 72

1843. 33. First performance of quintet (January 8, in tlie
Gewandhaus).

Appointed professor in Conservatorium of Leip¬
zig, April 3.28

First performance of duet, op. 46 (August 19).

First performance of “ Paradise and Peri ” (De¬
cember 4).28

Andante and variations for two pianofortes, op.

46.61,114

“Paradise and the Peri” for solos, chorus, and

orchestra, op. 60 . . 85-87, 127, 128,130, 131

No. 11 of op. 99, and No. 6 of op. 124.

1844. 34. Tour in Russia (January to June).

Gives up regular editorial work (July
Change of residence from Leipzig to Dresden

(October).

Farewell concert in Leipzig (December 8) .

29

30
30

Chorus and aria for an opera on Byron’s
“ Corsair ” (unpublished).

Epilogue to Goethe’s “Faust,” set for solos,
chorus, and orchestra (first recension), no
opus number .... 92-94, 127

1845. 35. Intimacy with Hiller, Contrapuntal studies 31, 32

Four fugues for the pianoforte, op. 72.

Studies for the pedal piano, op. 56.

Six fugues on the name “ Bacn,” for organ, op.

60. ' ~ '
Sketches for the pedal piano, op. 58.

Remainder of pianoforte concerto, op. 54. 74,127,128
Second recension of “ Finale ** of op. 52 .78

No. 20 from op. 124.

1846. 36. Yisit to Yienna in the winter

“ Second ” symphony, in C, op. 61

Five songs (Burns) for mixed chorus, op. 55.

Four songs for mixed chorus, op. 59.

. 32

80-82

142

CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF

A.D. AGE. EVENTS OF HIS LIFE AND COMPOSITIONS. PAGE

1847. 37. Visits to Prague and Berlin (spring) . . 32

Visit to Zwickau (summer) .... 32

Discussion about the opera .... 33

Death of Mendelssohn (November).

Two songs (Morike) for one voice, completing
op. 64.

Overture to “ Genoveva,” op. 81. . . . 84

Final chorus from “ Faust ” (2nd recension) 92-94
Trio for pianoforte and strings in D minor, op.

63 . . ... 72

Song, “ Zum Abschied,” for chorus and wind
instruments, op. 84.

Trio for pianoforte and strings in F, op. 80 . 72

“ Ritomelle” (Riickert) for four-part male chorus,
op. 65.

Three songs for male chorus, op. 62.

Act I. of “ Genoveva” completely sketched.

1848. 38. Conducts a choral society (January, &c.) . . 34

Part of “ Faust ” music privately performed . 35

Difficulties of getting opera produced.

“ Genoveva ” completed, op. 81 . . . 88-90

Chorus from “ Faust,” “ Gerettet ist das edle

Glied ”.92-94

“ Christmas Album ” for the young, op. 68 . 128

Musio to Byron's “ Manfred,” op. 115 . 84, 90-92

“Adventlied” (Riickert) for solo, chorus, and

orchestra, op. 71 .98

“ Bilder aus Osten,” pianoforte duet, op. 66.

Five pieces included m “ Waldscenen,” op. 82.

1849. 39. Moves from Dresden to Kreischa, in consequence

of insurrection of May .35

Efforts to obtain appointment at Leipzig . . 36

“ Faust ” music performed in Dresden, Leipzig,

and Weimar (August).36

Remainder of “ Waldscenen,” op. 82 . . .60

Fantasiestiicke for clarionet and pianoforte, op.

73.. 73

Adagio and Allegro for horn and pianoforte, op.

Concertstiick for four horns and orchestra, op. 86 75

bobebt Schumann’s life and wobks.

143

A D. AGE. EVENTS OF HIS LIFE AND COMPOSITIONS. PAGE

BaUaden undRomanzen for chorus, Book I., op.

67; Book II., op. 75; Book III., op. 145;

Book IV., op. 146.

Romances for female chorus, Book. I., op. 69 ;

Book II., op. 91.

Spanisches Liederspiel, op. 74 . . . . 88

Five “ Stiicke im Volkston” for piano and vio¬
loncello, op. 102.73

Lieder-Album for the young, op. 79.

“ Jagdlieder,” five songs for male chorus and

four horns obbligato, op. 137 ... 87

Motet “ Verzweifle nicht,” for double male

. chorus, op. 93. . 87

“Minnespiel,” from Riickert’s “ Liebesfriihling,”

op. 101. ..88

Four marches for pianoforte, op. 76 . . . 60

No. 14 of op. 99.

Songs (nine) from “ Wilhelm Meister,” and “ Re¬
quiem for Mignon ” for chorus, op. 98 . 87

Cathedral, garden, and “ Ariel ” scenes from

“ Faust ”.94, 95

Four duets for soprano and tenor, op. 78.

Twelve pianoforte pieces (four hands), op. 85,
Introduction and Allegro for pianoforte and

orchestra, op. 92.74

Four songs for double chorus, op. 141.

“ Nachtlied ” (Hebbel), for chorus and orchestra

op. 108 . 87,88

Spanische Liebeslieder, op. 138 ... 88

Three songs (Byron’s Hebrew Melodies) for one
voice, with harp or piano accompaniment,
op. 95.

Three Romances for oboe and piano, op. 94 . 73

“ Schon Hedwig,” ballad for declamation (Heb¬
bel), op. 106.

1850. 40. Concert tour to Leipzig, Bremen, and Hamburg

(spring).37

Production of “ Genovevaf’ (June 25) . . 38

Appointment to Diisseldorf, in Hiller’s place, .
and removal there (September) . . 37, 38

“ Neujahrslied” (Riickert) for chorus and or¬
chestra, op. 144 ...... 98

Three songs, op. 83. ,

144

CHRONOLOGICAL TABLE OF

A.D. AGE.

1851. 41.

EVENTS OP BIS LIFE AND COMPOSITIONS. PAGE

Songs (five), op. 77; (five), op. 96; and (five),
op. 127.

Six songs (Wilfried v. d. Neun), op. 89.

Six poems (Lenau), and “ Requiem ” (old Catho¬
lic poem), op. 90.99

Scene of the four grey women, and Faust’s
death (“ Faust ”).

Concertstiick for violoncello and orchestra, op.

129.75

“Third” or “Rhenish” symphony in E flat,

op. 97 . . . . . . 82,83, 132

Overture to Schiller’s “Brautvon Messina,” op.

100. 40, 84

Journey to Switzerland (summer), and to Ant¬
werp (August).40

Overture “ Braut von Messina,” played at Ge-
wandhaus (November 6).

Four Songs (Nos. 1, 2, 3, and 6), from op. 107.
Overture to “ Julius Caesar,” op. 128 ... 84

“ Marchenbilder ” for pianoforte and viola, op.

113.

Four “ Husarenlieder ” (Lenau), op. 117.

“Der Rose Pilgerfahrt ” (Pilgrimage of the
Rose) (Moritz Horn), for solos, chorus, and

orchestra, op. 112.97

“ Der Konigssohn ” (Uhland), for solos, chorus,

and orchestra, op. 116.97

“ Madchenlieder ” (Elisabeth Kulmann), for two
sopranos, op. 103.

Seven songs (E. Kulmann), op. 104.

“ Ballscenen,” pianoforte duet, op. 109.

Five “ Heitere Gesange,” op. 125.

Three Fantasiestiicke for pianoforte, op. 111.

Sonata for pianoforte ana violin, in A minor,

op. 105. .. 72, 73

Three poems (Pfarrius), op. 119.

Symphony in D minor, op. 120 (2nd recension). 129
Trio for pianoforte and strings, in G minor, op.

110 . . . . . . . .72
Sonata for piano and violin, in D minor, op. 121 73

Overture to Goethe’s “ Hermann und Dorothea,”
op. 136.

84

eobeet Schumann’s life and works.

145

A.D. AGE EVENTS OP HIS LIFE AND COMPOSITIONS. PAGE

1852. 42. Visit to Leipzig (March).40

Festival of music for male voices, Diisseldorf
(August).

“ Des Sangers Fluch ” (Uhland), for solos,

chorus, and orchestra, op. 139 ... 97

Mass for four-part chorus and orchestra, op. 147 98

Requiem for four-part chorus and orchestra, op.

148 ........ 98

“ Vom Pagen und der Konigstochter,” four bal¬
lads (Geibel),for solos, chorus, and orchestra,
op. 140.97

Five poems of Queen Mary Stuart for mezzo-
soprano, op. 135.

Two songs (Nos. 4 and 5 of op. 107).

- Four songs, op. 142.

Three songs for three-part female chorus (pro¬
bably composed this year), op. 114.

1853. .43. Lower Rhine Musical Festival, Diisseldorf

(May).40, 41

Gives up post as conductor (October) . . 41

Brahms and the article “ Neue Bahnen ” . 42, 113
Concert tour in Holland (winter) ... 43

“Das Gluck von Edenhall,” ballad (Uhland),

for solos, chorus, and orchestra, op. 143 . 97

Festival overture on the “ Rheinweinlied,” for

orchestra and chorus, op. 123 . . 84, 127

Seven pianoforte pieces in fughetta form, op. 126.

Three pianoforte sonatas for the young, op.

118.

Overture to “ Faust ” . . . . . 95,96

Concert Allegro, with Introduction for pianoforte

and orchestra, op. 134.74

Fantasia for violin and orchestra, op. 131 . . 75

Ballads for declamation, “Vom Haideknabe,”
(Hebbel), and “ The Fugitives ” (Shelley),

op. 122.97

“ Kinderbaiy* six pianoforte duets, op. 130.
Intermezzo (Romance) and Finale of a violin
sonata, written in conjunction with Die¬
trich and Brahms (unpublished) . . 75

1854. 44. Attends performance of “ Paradise and Peri ” at

Hanover (January).43

I*

146 Robert Schumann’s life and works.

A.D. AOS. EVENTS OS HIS LIPS AND COMPOSITIONS. PAGE

Attempt to commit suicide (February 27) . • 44

Confinement in asylum near Bonn until

1856. 46. His death (July 29) . . . . . .44

Works of Uncertain Bate.

Five songs, published in various “ albums ” between 1844
and 1850, the whole set appearing firat in the latter
year as op. 51.

“ Der Handscnuh ” (Schiller), ballad, probably composed
in 1849-50, first published in 1851.

“ Marchenerzahlungen, ,, four pieces for clarionet, viola,
and pianoforte, op. 132, probably written in 1853.

“ Gesange der Friih ” (morning songs), five pianoforte

pieces, op. 133 .. 61, 99,100, 112

Canon on “ An Alexis” given in J. Knorr’s op. 30.

Pianoforte accompaniment to the six violin sonatas of J.

S. Bach.

Scherzo and Presto passionato for pianoforte, Nos. 12 and
13 of the posthumous works published by Rieter-
Biedermann.

Soldatenlied for one voice and pianoforte accompaniment.

INDEX,

Alexis, Willibald, 9.

Bach, J. S., 1C4,105,119.

Banck, Carl, 18, 20, 21.

Beethoven, 55, 105,119.

Bellini. 118.

Bennett, W. Sterndale, 25, 54,108,126-128,130.
Berlioz, Hector, 110, 111, 124.

Boieldieu, 117.

Brahms, Joh. 42, 44, 75, 88, 102,113.

Byron, Lord, 90—92, 141,143.

XJartjs, Dr., and his family, 6, 7.

Cherubini, 106.

ChopiD, Fr., 15,102,106—108,120.

Couperin, 105.

Cramer, J. B., 62,118.

“ Davidsbtjnd,” The, 20—22, 52, 53.

Dietrich, Albert, 75.

Dohner, Archdeacon, 3.

Donizetti, 118.

Dorn, Heinrich, 14.

Dresden, Insurrection of May, 1849, 35, 36.

English criticisms of Schumann, 127—132.

Field, John, 106.

Fischhof, Joseph, 22.

Flechsig, Emil, 6.

“ Florestan and Eusebius,” 16, 20, 52, 54, 56, 59, 118.
Franz, Robert, 113.

Frege, Madame (see Gerhardt).

Fricken, Ernestine von, 19, 20, 52, 53.

L 2

148

INDEX.

Gade, Niels W., 112.

Gerhardt, Livia (Madame Frege), 20.

Grillparzer, F., 123.

Handel, G. F., 40,105.

Hauptmann, Moritz, 125.

Hebbel, Friedrich, 34, 87, 88.

Heine, Heinrich, 7, 65—67.

Heller, Stephen, 110.

Henselt, Adolph, 29,110.

Hiller, Ferdinand, 32, 34, 37, 39—41, 87.

Hoffmann, E. T. A., 59.

Joachim, Joseph, 42, 75, 79,121.

Kahlert, August, 23.

Knorr, Julius, 18, 20, 21.

Kuntsch, J. G., 4.

Kurrer, Dr., 7.

Lind, Jenny, 37,130.

Liszt, Franz, 55, 111, 112, 120, 123,124.

Lyser, J. P., 17, 20.

Marschner, Heinrich, 7, 53.

Mendelssohn-Bartholdy, Felix, 20, 22, 28, 36, 76, 79, 109, 110
121, 122,125,134,135.

Meyerbeer, Giacomo, 114—116.

Moscheles, Ignaz, 4,11, 22, 124.

Mozart, 105.

Neue Zeitschrift fur Musik , 17—19, 21, 24, 29, 42,113.
Niederrheinische Musikfest (Lower Rhine Musical Festival,
40, 41.

Reiffel, Amalie, 121.

Richarz, Dr., 44.

Rietz, Julius, 36.

Righini, Vincenzo, 4, 5.

Rosen, Gisbert, 6, 7,9—11.

Rossini, G., 117.

Riickert, Friedrich, 98.

Scarlatti, Domenico, 105.

Schnabel, Johanna (see Schumann, Johanna).

Schneider, Friedrich, 5.

Schubert, Franz, 24,106.

INDEX.

149

Schumann, Clara (geb. Wieck), 7, 8,16, 17, 23, 25, 26, 28, 52,
53, 57, 58, 61,112,119,122, 128.

-:-, Edward, 3,11.

--, Emilie, 3.

--, Emilie (geb. Lorenz), 15.

-, Friedrich August Gottlob (the composer’s father),

2 3 5

-, Friedrich Gottlob, 2.

■ - -, Johanna Christiana (the composer’s mother), 2,

3,12.

-, Julius, 3.

—-, Karl, 3.

-, Robert Alexander (for the events of Schumann’s

life the reader is referred to the foregoing chronological
table): school-life, 3—5; musical portraits of his com¬
panions, 4; public appearances as a pianist, 5, 11; studies
for the law, 6—12; love of Jean Paul, 6, 7,20,103; adven¬
tures in Italjr, 11; hears Paganini, 11; studies with Wieck,
8,12,13; injures his hand, 13—15; studies with Dorn, 14;
visit to Vienna, 23, 24; degree of doctor, 25, 28; appointed
professor at Conservatorium, 28; his powers as a teacher,
29; as a conductor, 34, 36, 37, 38, 40, 41, 87; as a pianist,
61, 62; as a critic, 15, 42,101—121; his opinion of his own
compositions, 113, 114; personal appearance and charac¬
teristics, 45, 46 ; his melancholy, 5, 6, 17,30—32, 39, 41,
43, 44; contemporary appreciation, 27, 28; fame in Eng¬
land, 127, 132, 134, 135.

-festival at Bonn, 44.

his works *

Chamber music, 26, 33, 69—73, 75,128.

Concertos, 32, 73—75, 128,129.

“ Faust” Scenes, 30, 34, 36, 92—96.

“ Genoveva,” 33, 34, 38, 88—90.

“ Manfred ” music, 35, 90—92.

Overtures, 40, 83, 84.

“ Paradise and the Peri,” 26, 28, 43, 85—87,130,131.

Pianoforte works, 11,12,15,17, 21, 22, 32, 47—62, 99,

100 .

“ Pilgrimage of the Rose,” 39.

Sacred music, 39, 40, 97—99.

Symphonies, 16, 25, 26, 32, 39, 40, 69, 75—83, 129,
130.

Vocal music, 26, 33, 48, 63—69, 87, 88, 97.

-, Rosalie (geb. Illing), 15,17.

■' ■ —, Therese (geb. Semmel), 11,15.

Schunke, Ludwig, 17, 20, 21, 22.

Semmel, 6,10.

INDEX,

150

Spohr, Ludwig, 38.

Tausch, Julias, 38, 41.

Thibaat, A. F. J., 9,10.

Topken, Th., 11,15, 50,123.

VlEUXTEMPS, 110.

Yoigt, Henriette, 19, 20.

Wagner, Richard, 32, 33, 35,101,116,117,131,132.
Wagnerian attack on Schumann, 132—134.

Weber, 0. M. von., 5, 90,106.

Wieck, Clara (see Schumann, Clara).

-, Friedrich, 7, 8,18, 20, 22, 23, 25, 28.

Zuccalmaglio, Anton von, 20, 23, 33.