Chapter II: The Lower Rhine Musical Festival

Herr Hauser had not forgotten Mendelssohn’s wish to be kept _au courant_ with regard to the events which took place at the _Theater an der Wien_. He had written more than one account of the various occurrences we have described; and, on the morning after the “benefit,” he wrote again, giving his friend a brief general description of the events of the evening. To the first and second of these letters Mendelssohn sent the following reply, containing much that will interest the reader:—

“Leipzig, 11th May, 1846.

“MY DEAR FRIEND,

“I well knew how pleased you would be with Jenny Lind—I never for a
moment doubted it; and I was pleased indeed to find, from your letter,
that I had not been mistaken, and that you had been so truly refreshed
and encouraged by an artistic nature so splendid and so thoroughly
genuine.

“Tell her that no day passes on which I do not rejoice anew that we
are both living at the same epoch, and have learned to know each
other, and are friends, and that her voice sounds so joyous, and that
she is exactly what she is, and, with that, give her my heartiest
greetings.

“And accept my best thanks for your two good letters. I should,
indeed, have thanked you long ago, had not my time been so wholly
absorbed by music that writing was impossible, for I sit, over both my
ears, in my _Elijah_, and if it only turns out half as good as I often
think it will, I shall be glad indeed! The first part will be quite
finished within the next few days, and a goodly portion of the second
part also. I like nothing more than to spend the whole day in writing
the notes down, and I often come so late to dinner that the children
come to my room to fetch me, and drag me out by main force.

“But, really, I must come some day to Vienna. I hear so much said
about it, right and left, and you all say such kind things about my
music, and give me such extraordinary accounts of your performances,
that you make my mouth water. Perhaps I may bring my _Elijah_, while
it is quite new, about the winter-time—for, naturally, it cannot be
given at Aix-la-Chapelle, since it is barely half finished; or,
perhaps I may wait until I have found a subject for my Opera, and
composed the music—if Jenny Lind is still there—and this last would be
the best. But, in some way or other, I hope to see our Imperial City:
and I shall not then make my first visit to the tower of S. Stephen’s,
or to the Sperl, but to the Bärenmühle. But perhaps you no longer live
there, in which case I shall come wherever you do live.

“But it is getting late, and I must leave off. Do you know whether
Jenny Lind is going to sing the part of ‘Donna Anna’ in Vienna? I
should like you to hear it. If she does not sing it, ask her to sing
the last or the first _aria_ to you in your room; and, when you greet
her, from me, tell her that I will write to her this week, but she
must forgive me if my letter is stupid, for, just now, I cannot do
anything better.

“Let me soon hear from you again. What happened at the second
performance of _Antigone_? And how are your sons, and your wife? Greet
them all many times, and continue kind to

“Thine,
“FELIX.”[77]

Herr Hauser’s letter of May 21—the day after the benefit—was, in some sort, an answer to this. He renews the invitation to Vienna, though complaining that he is not living so comfortably as in his former house in the Bärenmühle. He says that he duly reported to Mdlle. Lind Mendelssohn’s thankfulness that they were both born in the same epoch, and he himself hopes that they will all long continue to give thanks to God for so artistic a nature—and not without grave reason, for there are some still living who thank God heartily that they were, to a certain extent, contemporary with Mendelssohn.

Mdlle. Lind sang, with her usual success, at Herr Taubert’s _matinée_ in Streicher’s Konzert-Salon on May 10, contributing to the programme two of Taubert’s songs, and a northern melody; and, on the 21st, she sang, for the last time that season, at a grand orchestral concert, given for an institution for the support of little children at the _Theater an der Wien_, under the patronage of His Imperial Highness the Archduke Franz Carl.

And thus ended the first short season in Vienna. It had been, for all concerned, a tentative one, for no one could predicate, until trial had been made, the temper in which the Viennese might feel inclined to accept it. But the experiment had proved eminently successful, and there could be no possible doubt on the mind of any one as to the result of a similar enterprise undertaken during the ensuing winter. If the Viennese critics had seemed somewhat more cautious in their expressions than those of Berlin, the public had certainly been very much less so in their actions.

And, now, the scene of the long succession of triumphs was changed.

As early as the month of January, 1846, the committee of the “Lower Rhine Musical Festival” entered into negotiations with Mdlle. Lind in the hope of obtaining her assistance at the twenty-eighth meeting of the Association, which was appointed to take place, that year, on May 31, and June 1 and 2, at Aix-la-Chapelle.

The Association was, and still is, one of the most important in Europe, and one of the oldest also. First suggested in 1811, and regularly organised in 1818, it had, since that year, given an annual festival at Whitsuntide, either at Cologne, Düsseldorf, or Aix-la-Chapelle, each town taking upon itself the responsibility of arrangement, in its regular turn. Up to the year 1833 two concerts had been given annually, on Whitsunday and Whitmonday; but Mendelssohn, who that year had been for the first time appointed conductor, proposed an additional concert on the Tuesday morning; and, as the programme was on that day miscellaneous, it was called “The Artists’ Concert,” under which title it has ever since been annually repeated. The festival was held that year at Düsseldorf. Mendelssohn again conducted, in 1835, at Cologne; and in 1836 he produced his _Saint Paul_, at the eighteenth festival at Düsseldorf. Since then he had conducted three times; and now he was engaged again for 1846.

Many hindrances had arisen, and many changes been made with regard to the arrangements, chiefly in consequence of the difficulty of engaging an efficient company of artists to support Mdlle. Lind; for, unlike Herr Pokorny, the committee had determined that she should not be asked to sing with vocalists of inferior merit. But all was satisfactorily arranged before she left Berlin in April, and the programmes for the two first days finally decided upon.

The first grand rehearsal was fixed for Wednesday, May 27, and it had been arranged that Mdlle. Lind should leave Vienna on the 23rd, meet Mendelssohn at Frankfort on the evening of the 26th, and proceed with him down the Rhine to Aix-la-Chapelle on the 27th. But when the hour fixed for the departure from Vienna arrived, it was found that the injured man-servant was quite unfit to travel.

Always thinking of others, before caring for herself, Mdlle. Lind consulted with the doctors, and found that they demanded twelve hours longer in order that the sufferer might be comfortably bandaged and prepared, in so far as was possible under such circumstances, for the fatigues of the journey. To this delay she consented, in preference to leaving him friendless in Vienna. It was a great risk, and involved a terrible increase of fatigue for her at a time when she needed all her physical powers, as well as those of the mind, in preparation for the responsibilities devolving upon her at the festival. But she did not hesitate; though, in consequence of the lateness of the hour at which she was obliged to start, it was nearly midnight on Tuesday, May 26, before she arrived at Frankfort, where Mendelssohn had been awaiting her all the afternoon at the well-known hotel _Der Weisse Schwan_, in an agony of anxiety and suspense.

It was, indeed, a desperate venture. If, through any accidental hindrance, either of them had failed to appear at the rehearsal on Thursday the 28th, the success of the entire festival would have been endangered. But all fear of that was now at an end; and, leaving Görgel the wounded man-servant under careful medical attendance in Frankfort, the two friends, accompanied by Mdlle. Louise Johansson, started down the Rhine, on Wednesday the 27th, by the steamboat, and in due time reached Aix-la-Chapelle, where Mdlle. Lind, in accordance with the previous arrangement, became the guest of the Marquis and Marquise de Sassenay, and Mendelssohn occupied an apartment provided for him by the committee at the principal hotel—the _Grand Monarque_.

The festival was declared by all present to have been the best that had taken place within the memory of the public. The two principal songs in Haydn’s oratorio, _On Mighty Pens_ and _With Verdure Clad_, and the solo and chorus, _The Marvellous Work_, were calculated to display Mdlle. Lind’s powers, whether of voice, method, or poetical conception, to the greatest possible advantage—indeed, they became great favourites everywhere in later years. And yet it was undoubtedly in the third part of the oratorio that her ideal conception of the work reached its culminating point, for she threw the whole poetry of her womanly nature into the part of Eve, and emphasised its importance in a way which attracted the attention of every deep thinker among the audience. There can be no doubt that her interpretation of it coincided with Haydn’s, in every particular. Both saw that the whole interest of the work must of necessity concentrate itself upon the point at which the purpose of the Almighty Creator is consummated—the creation of man. And it was in closest sympathy with this conception that Haydn composed, and his careful interpreter sang, the music assigned to “the mother of us all.” Can we believe that their joint ideal was a false one?

Mdlle. Lind’s part in _Alexander’s Feast_ was also a very important one, demanding the combined powers of _virtuosa_ and poetess. But her greatest success, perhaps, was achieved on the Tuesday morning, at the “Artists’ Concert,” in Mendelssohn’s _Auf Flügeln des Gesanges_ and _Frühlingslied_, in which, say the critics of the period, “she produced an effect wholly unparalleled, insomuch that the meeting of 1846 was afterwards known as the “_Jenny-Lind-Fest_.””

Many dear friends, both of the conductor and the singer, assembled that year at Aix-la-Chapelle to do honour to the occasion; and it was altogether a very happy time, as some letters, fortunately preserved, sufficiently prove.

It will interest the reader to glance at three descriptions of the same pleasant Whitsuntide holiday, drawn from three different points of view— like P. de Champaigne’s threefold portrait of the great Cardinal de Richelieu in the National Gallery—less gorgeously toned, indeed, and by no means so grandly modelled; but certainly not less true to nature, though only in playful miniature.

Among the sympathetic friends who flocked to Aix-la-Chapelle, and certainly not among the least welcome of these, were Professor Geijer of Upsala and his wife, who had not breathed a word to any one of their intention to come. Their presence in the town was a surprise indeed; and Madame Geijer thus describes the meeting, in a letter forwarded to us by her son-in-law Count Hamilton, the Lord-Lieutenant of the province of Upland.

“Aachen, Whitsunday, 1816.

“Geijer was informed that ‘Fräulein’ Lind and Dr. Mendelssohn were at
home, so he went to Madame la Marquise de Sassenay’s, where Jenny Lind
was staying during her visit to Aachen.

“Jenny, however, was at rehearsal, so he went to the theatre and
enquired for her there.

“Soon afterwards Jenny came out, and could hardly believe her eyes.
She did not know whether she was dreaming, whether she was in Germany
or Sweden!

“She put her hands to her forehead, and was ready to cry. Later on,
she followed Geijer to the hotel at which we were staying. She was
joyous, excited, and exceedingly interesting and animated. She asked
with warmth and emotion after friends and acquaintances at home, and
more particularly after the Lindblads. Geijer told her that Lindblad
was engaged on an Opera. ‘Well,’ she cried, ‘and who is to sing it?’
Geijer answered, ‘You had better say who.’ ‘Yes,’ she said, ‘I may
help him to bring out an Opera, both at home, and here in Germany;
there is no doubt about that.’

“She spoke of the great success she had had in Vienna, and told him
how, after her last appearance, an attempt had been made to draw her
carriage, in consequence of which her man-servant had been severely
injured, so much so that she had been obliged to leave him behind.

“Jenny promised to get tickets for us for the concert, adding ‘I shall
tell them that I will not sing, if they do not give me tickets for
you.’ She also promised that she would arrange for Mendelssohn to play
to us; and, since the world now turns round according to her wishes
and commands, one may feel quite safe when she has pronounced her
_fiat_ in one’s favour.

“In the evening we were present at the rehearsal of the _Creation_,
and we then heard the good news that Mendelssohn had declared his
willingness to play to us, and that he would have a piano sent to our
rooms for that purpose.

“So, in the evening, Jenny and Mendelssohn came to us. Jenny sang some
_Lieder_, and I need neither describe nor praise them. Geijer was
quite beside himself with delight and pleasure.

“Mendelssohn thought Agnes and Jenny so like each other that they
might be taken for sisters.”

Five days after his departure from Aix-la-Chapelle Mendelssohn, who was then in Düsseldorf, sent the following account of the Festival to his friend Franz Hauser, at Vienna:—

“Düsseldorf, June 8, 1848.

“You wish me to tell you about the musical festival at Aachen. Well,
it was very good, very splendid, towering above all the others, and
chiefly owing to Jenny Lind; for, as to the orchestra, I have heard it
perhaps better on some other occasions, and the chorus, though
splendid, has been equally so at previous festivals. But they were all
so uplifted, so animated, so artistically moved by Lind’s singing and
manner, that the whole thing became a delight, a general success, and
worked together as it never did before.

“I had the clearest evidence of this at the last rehearsal, when I had
begged of her, for once, not to be the first and most punctual in
attendance, but to take some rest and come in towards the end of the
rehearsal. To this she agreed, and it was quite a misery to notice how
feebly things went—so devoid of swing that even I became listless,
like all the others, until, thank God! Jenny Lind appeared, when the
needful interest and good humour came back to us, and things moved on
again.

“There were, of course, wreaths, and poems, and fanfares, again and
again, and the audience was seized with that excitement which
manifests itself wherever she goes. The manner of its manifestation is
of no consequence.

“After the festival, we went together a little way on the Rhine; spent
a very pleasant day at Cologne, Bonn, up the Drachenfels, at
Königswinter, and back (to Cologne), and on the following day she left
for Hanover, and I for this place, where I took part yesterday in a
concert which also would have been a fine one if Jenny Lind had been
there.

“To-morrow I leave for Liège, in order to hear the _Lauda Sion_, which
I have composed for the festival of _Corpus Christi_ there.”

Finally, Mdlle. Lind recorded her own impressions of this Whitsuntide holiday—for earnest work in the cause of Art is really a holiday to earnest artists, however hard it may be—in the following letter to Herr Rudolph Wichmann, the Professor’s second son:—

“Aachen, June 2, 1846.

“MY DEAR RUDOLPH,

“My pleasure in Aachen will soon come to an end, for all will be over
to-day, and early to-morrow we leave. But I believe Mendelssohn means
to accompany us a little way, and we hope to see the view from the
Drachenfels, which will be very nice.

“How well everything went with me in Vienna! only my man-servant was
very nearly crushed to death, owing to the enthusiasm, so that I had
to leave him behind in Frankfort, and he has only just now rejoined
me.

“Farewell, my dear boy. Greetings from

“THY SISTER.”

It had been a happy time for all; but for Mendelssohn, with _Elijah_ not yet finished, though on the eve of production, and some hard days’ work still waiting for accomplishment in Düsseldorf, Cologne, and Liège, the fatigue was dangerously heavy, and the amount of excitement with which it was accompanied more disproportioned still to the then condition of his mental and physical powers, which sorely needed the rest he was nevermore able to accord to them.

But when did Prudence ever come to the front, to calm the suicidal eagerness of Genius?