Frau Schumann in Baden-Baden—Circle of friends there—Hermann Levi—Madame Pauline Viardot-Garcia—The LandgrÄfin of Hesse and the Pianoforte Quintet—Death of Frau Brahms—Concert-journey—The Horn Trio—Frau Caroline Schnack—Last visit to Detmold—First Sonata for Pianoforte and Violoncello—The German Requiem—Brahms at ZÜrich—Billroth—Brahms and Joachim on a concert-tour in Switzerland—Hans von BÜlow—Reinthaler.

In the year 1864, or possibly at the end of 1863, the domestic troubles that had arisen from Jakob Brahms' early marriage with a delicate woman nearly twenty years his senior came to a crisis which Johannes, loving both father and mother with tender devotion, could no longer bear. By his wish the ill-assorted couple separated. Jakob had long since become fairly prosperous in a small way, holding a recognised position as a double-bass player amongst the orchestral musicians of Hamburg, and had even been appointed a member of the Philharmonic band since Stockhausen's election as the society's conductor. He now found quarters for himself in the Grosser Bleichen; the home in the Fuhlentwiethe was given up. Fritz, who, in spite of his want of energy, was doing well as a teacher, took lodgings in Theaterstrasse, and Frau Brahms and Elise removed to comfortable rooms in the Lange Reihe, Johannes, poor as he was, taking upon himself the sole responsibility of their maintenance. The time was still distant, in spite of the composer's steadily-growing fame, when his circumstances were to become prosperous. Had money-making been one of his immediate objects, he could certainly have attained it with little difficulty; but his aims were wholly ideal, and directly included pecuniary profit only so far as this was necessary for his own decent maintenance and for the exercise of ungrudging generosity to his family. His income, derived from the sale of his copyrights and from his public activity as a pianist—for he practically gave up teaching on going to Vienna—sufficed for these ends; he had learned from early youth to find happiness in the realities of life, and to treat as superfluities as many things as possible. The cultivation of happiness he viewed, not only as a part of wisdom, but as a duty. 'Let us, so far as we may, retain a fresh, happy interest in life, which we have at any rate to live' was not with him a mere phrase to be offered for the benefit of a friend in trouble, but one of the abiding principles by which he shaped his own daily existence.

No year would have been possible to Brahms without sight of his parents and he stayed near them for part of the summer, his first visit after embracing father and mother being, as usual, to Marxsen. Further plans were not difficult to arrange, and chief among them was that of a long visit to Baden-Baden. 'Johannes took us by surprise on July 30' is Frau Schumann's entry, in her diary, of his arrival. He stayed on for the remainder of the season, residing in a charming villa close to the grounds of the Kurhaus, which was placed at his disposal by Rubinstein, who had taken it for the summer, but left in August.

Frau Schumann's residence at Baden-Baden brought in its train results which are of much interest in the history of Brahms' career. The not-distant capital of the duchy of Baden, Carlsruhe, was to become, in the course of the next few years, an important centre for the cultivation of his art. It seems convenient, therefore, to mention at once the names of a few members of a group of friends belonging to Frau Schumann's circle who resided or stayed frequently in the neighbourhood, and with whom Brahms became more or less intimate.

Jakob Rosenhain (born 1813), a composer now forgotten, but esteemed in his day, and recognised both by Schumann and Mendelssohn, lived at Baden-Baden, and was sometimes to be met at Frau Schumann's house. His name heads the programme of Johannes' first public concert of 1848. The painter Anselm Feuerbach (1829-1880), a little-known and disappointed man in 1864, whose art has attained great posthumous celebrity, came annually with his mother to pass a few weeks there. The name of Frau Henriette Feuerbach appears on the title-page of Brahms' work 'NÄnie,' which was composed soon after the premature death of her son. With the mention of Feuerbach must be associated that of Julius Allgeyer, introduced to our readers in an early chapter as a student of copperplate engraving at DÜsseldorf, and now settled in Carlsruhe as a high-art photographer. Allgeyer had a genius for friendship. He was extraordinarily attached to Feuerbach, of whose art he made himself the apostle; but though his four years' residence in Rome (1856-1860) in close intercourse with the painter caused an interruption of his personal intimacy with Brahms, the two men remained in occasional correspondence, and held each other in cordial esteem. Now the old friendship was renewed, and it was not long before Brahms came to occupy a place in the engraver's affections second only to that of Feuerbach. The thought that he had known and loved both musician and painter through the period of their dawning fame was, in after-years, a source of satisfaction and pride to Allgeyer, whose name has become well known in Germany as that of Feuerbach's biographer.

In the middle of the sixties Carlsruhe, under the encouragement of its reigning Grand-Duke Frederick, occupied an exceptionally brilliant position amongst the smaller European centres of dramatic and musical art, to which it had been raised by the talents and devotion of Edward Devrient, the eminent stage-director of its court theatre, whose name may be familiar to some English readers as that of one of Mendelssohn's intimate friends. A man of wide general culture, the author of the standard work on its subject—'The History of German Dramatic Art'—playwright, singer, actor, possessed of an intimate knowledge of the best traditions of the German stage in the wide sense that includes opera, which had been derived from thirty years of professional association with the court theatres of Berlin and Dresden, Devrient was an ideal man for his post. His own sympathies remained faithful to the classical school of opera upon which his taste had been formed, but he did not allow his devotion to Gluck and Mozart and his interest in the revival of works of an early period to narrow the sphere of his activity. Taking a broad view of the duties of his position, he recognised the claim to hearing of the New-German school, and several of Wagner's musical dramas had been performed in the Carlsruhe court theatre by his permission, if not on his initiative, before his resignation of his post soon after the celebration of his artistic jubilee in April, 1869.

Not the least of his services to music was his choice of a successor to the post of court capellmeister at Carlsruhe, which fell vacant on the resignation of Joseph Strauss (not of the celebrated Vienna family) early in 1864. By recommending Hermann Levi (1839-1900) for the appointment, famous after the middle of the seventies amongst the famous Wagner conductors, and director of the first performances of 'Parsifal' (July-August, 1882), and by the generosity with which he permitted the youthful musician to profit by the fruits of his own ripe experience, he contributed in no small degree towards perfecting the technical education of an artist whose name will be remembered in musical history as amongst those of the great in his chosen branch of activity.

A gifted pupil of the Leipzig Conservatoire, Levi resolved, at an early age, to aim at achieving distinction as a conductor, and, on entering the service of the Grand-Duke of Baden in his twenty-sixth year, he had already laid the foundation of his future celebrity in successive posts at SaarbrÜck, Mannheim, and Rotterdam. He had a large and enthusiastic nature which caused him to reject the formal and stereotyped in art and to sympathize with what seemed to him genuinely progressive, and, becoming early in his career a great admirer of Schumann's music, he passed easily to a recognition of the genius of Brahms, with whom he had a slight acquaintance before settling at Carlsruhe.

The singer Hauser, the violoncellist Lindner, the hornist Segisser, the authoress FrÄulein Anna Ettlinger—all resident in Carlsruhe—the learned Oberschulrath Gustav Wendt, called there in 1867, whose rooms were the scene of many distinguished gatherings, are to be included in our list; and of particular interest is the name of the violoncellist Bernhard Cossmann, of Weimar celebrity, who settled at Baden-Baden in 1870. Brahms was a willing and heartily welcome visitor at his house, and took part there in performances of his E minor Violoncello Sonata, and, with the hornist SteinbrÜgger, of the Horn Trio.

A noteworthy and picturesque figure, familiar in the artist circle, was that of Tourgenieff, who visited Baden-Baden annually from early in the sixties until the opening of the seventies. In conclusion is to be added the name of Pauline Viardot-Garcia, who settled at Baden in 1863, building a spacious villa in the Lichtenthaler AllÉe for her summer residence, which contained a gallery of fine paintings, chiefly of the Spanish and Netherlands schools. Amongst her possessions was Mozart's autograph score of 'Don Giovanni,' which she kept enshrined in a valuable casket. Madame Viardot was a musician in a very comprehensive sense of the word. Her triumphs on the operatic stage belong to the history of musico-dramatic art; she had been a pupil of Liszt on the pianoforte, had studied counterpoint and composition, and composed a good deal. Several of her operettas, for which Tourgenieff furnished the text-books, were performed privately by her pupils and children in her miniature theatre in Baden-Baden, where she was accustomed to entertain many of the celebrities of the time. One was given in German translation by Richard Pohl, as 'Der letzte Zauberer,' on the Court stages of Carlsruhe and Weimar. At the request of some of her girl pupils, Brahms composed a short choral serenade for her birthday one summer subsequent to our present date, and conducted its performance by the young ladies, outside her house, at an early hour of the morning. This pleasant incident of the seventies recalls that of the forties, when the youthful Johannes consented to fill the offices of composer and conductor at Winsen on the occasion of Rector KÖhler's birthday.

Brahms was presented by Frau Schumann, in the course of this his first lengthened stay at Baden-Baden, to the Princess Anna, LandgrÄfin of Hesse on an occasion when the two artists performed his sonata for two pianofortes privately before Her Royal Highness. The work, which, as we have seen, had failed to win public sympathy when performed in a Vienna concert-room, made its mark on this occasion. It appealed strongly to the royal listener, who, at the close of the last movement, warmly expressed to the composer her sense of its beauty. Brahms, gratified and pleased at the Princess's unreserved appreciation, called on her the following day, and begged permission, which was readily granted, to dedicate the work to her; and on its publication the following year in its final form—a quintet for pianoforte and strings—Her Royal Highness's name appeared on the title-page. The Princess acknowledged the compliment of the dedication by presenting Brahms with one of her treasures—the autograph score of Mozart's G minor Symphony. It passed after his death, as part of his library, into the possession of the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde, Vienna.

An interesting reference to the dedication and the time is in the possession of the present Landgraf of Hesse, whose musical talent was recognised and encouraged by Brahms twenty years later, and is contained in a letter of thanks written by the master in 1892 on the dedication to him of a fantasia for pianoforte published that year by the Prince:

'Your Royal Highness
Most gracious Herr Landgraf!

'Whilst I venture to express to Your Royal Highness my most respectful and hearty thanks for the dedication of the fantasia, very many and very pleasant recollections occur to me.

'The high and agreeable distinction, as which I regard the dedication, reminds me of the similar pleasure I experienced when I was permitted to inscribe my quintet to your highly-honoured mother, the Frau LandgrÄfin. That was in beautiful Baden-Baden, and it would be too tempting to go on chatting about the unforgettable music-hours and pleasant days; but much else crowds upon the memory: Meiningen, Frankfurt, Vienna, Baden, etc. I think that by my mere mention of these names Y.R.H. will know what a valued memorial your work and its dedication, by which I am so much honoured, will be to me of many pleasant times.

'With my hearty thanks for the valuable present, I unite the wish that our glorious art may bring to Y.R.H. many more hours as happy as those were of which this fantasia gives such convincing testimony.

'Your Royal Highness's deeply obliged

'Johannes Brahms.

'Vienna, Jan. 1892.'

On September 12 Frau Joachim's first child was born, and there was no doubt as to what he should be called. Johannes must, of course, be godfather, and give his name to Joachim's boy. Brahms was not present at the christening, but he sent to the parents as his congratulatory gift the manuscript of the little song published long afterwards as No. 2 of Op. 91, the 'Geistliches Wiegenlied,' or, as it is called in the published translated title, 'The Virgin's Cradle Song.' The words are imitated by Geibel from a text of Lope de Vega, 'Die ihr schwebt um diese Palmen' (Ye who o'er these palms are hov'ring). The music, composed for contralto, viola, and pianoforte, is founded upon the melody of an old song,[11] which, given in Brahms' composition to the viola, serves as the basis for the contrapuntal treatment of the voice and pianoforte parts.

Brahms left Baden-Baden on October 10, and, returning to Vienna, passed the next few weeks in quiet pursuit of his ordinary avocations, happy at knowing himself in complete possession of his time, yet perhaps not without an occasional passing regret at the thought of the pleasure he had derived the previous season, as conductor of the Singakademie, from his association with choir and orchestra. The change he had advised in the family arrangements at Hamburg was not greatly to prolong for his mother the peaceful old age he had desired to secure for her. Frau Brahms had taken her last farewell of her dearly-loved son when he quitted Hamburg in the summer. Her health, which had for some time been growing weaker, continued to fail, and on February 2, 1865, she quietly breathed her last.

Johannes, who took the next train to Hamburg after receiving his sister's summons, arrived soon after all was over, and turned immediately towards his mother's bed-chamber. He had once before passed through a great sorrow, but in Schumann's case death had come in the guise of a friend. This was another kind of bereavement, and the loss of the dear, simply-loving old mother wrung his heart. 'Do not go in yet, Hannes,' said Elise, trying to prevent him, and, indeed, as he passed on into the room the sudden complete realization of the mother's tenderness gone from his life broke down his self-command on the instant. He knelt down by the quiet bed and sobbed aloud in uncontrollable grief. When he had somewhat collected himself he presently went out. Solitude, however, often welcome to him, was not what he wanted to-day, nor over-much sympathy, but affection—and affection of a kind that perhaps may have seemed to him something akin to the assured, unreasoning mother's love. He turned into kind Frau Cossel's and asked her to let him have a child. His own little goddaughter Johanna was most willingly at his service as a companion, and as soon as she was ready the pair walked away together hand in hand back to Elise, the little girl somewhat awed by the situation and the changed demeanour of the friend whom she was accustomed to regard as the merriest of her companions, but glad to be in his society on any terms. Leaving his godchild with Elise, Johannes almost immediately went out again, and returned after a while with his father, whom he drew with him into the adjoining room, accidentally leaving the door of communication a little open. The scene of the death-chamber was thus made visible to the frightened Johanna from her position in the parlour, and imprinted itself indelibly on her brain. She watched it spellbound, and was not too young a child to be penetrated and touched by what she saw.

The two men stood together by the bedside for a few seconds without stirring. Then Johannes, putting his hand on his father's arm, gently guided it towards the motionless figure, and, placing the husband's hand over that of the dead wife, kept both covered with his own in a last reconciliation. Kind friends came to the funeral, and true sympathy was at hand, but Johannes shrank in his grief from hearing the expression of condolence. 'I have no mother now: I must marry,' he said miserably when the service was over. Stockhausen and his wife insisted that he and Elise should dine quietly with them that day, and there is little doubt that Brahms was helped by the affectionate consideration shown on all sides, and was quietly grateful for it. He returned to his work in a few days, but the responsibility for the maintenance of Elise, who, having strongly felt the mother's side of the family difficulties, shrank from the idea of rejoining her father, remained entirely his.

The two first books of the 'Magelone Romances,' dedicated to Stockhausen, and the Pianoforte Quintet were published by Rieter-Biedermann early in the year. The version of the quintet as a Sonata for two Pianofortes was issued by the same house in 1872.

The Quintet in F minor, Op. 34, is unquestionably one of the greatest works of chamber music for pianoforte and strings ever written. Some distinguished writers go so far as to give it the first place amongst the composer's works of its class; and if regard be had to the largeness of its proportions, the stormy grandeur and the deep pathos of its ideas, its extraordinary wealth of thematic material, and the astonishing power with which this is handled, it must be admitted that there is something to be said in support of such a view. To the author it certainly appears impossible to select one of Brahms' works of this period and this class for preference as compared with the others. All are so great as, so to say, to defy future competition. They seem as unapproachable and secure on their own lines as the immortal '48' themselves in another category. The imaginative power which surges through the first movement of the quintet recalls the daring of the youthful Johannes, and is guided now by a master-hand. This movement dominates the whole work. Its contrasted tones of passionate splendour and scarcely less passionate mystery are reflected in the rich pathos of the 'andante un poco adagio,' in the weird fitfulness of the scherzo with its heart-gripping trio, and in the doubtful tranquillity of the finale, bursting in the coda into a rushing impetuosity which carries the movement to a triumphant conclusion. Few of Brahms' compositions contain more striking illustrations than this one of his power of fertilizing his themes and bringing new, out of previous, material, a power which gives to his works a coherence and solidity hardly equalled save in the compositions of Bach himself, and which has a certain artistic analogy with the secret force that governs all natural organic development.

The summer of this year was again spent near Frau Schumann. Brahms took lodgings—two small rooms well provided with windows—in Frau Becker's house, which was situated a little apart from the village of Lichtenthal in an idyllic spot amongst the hills. His plan of life, essentially the same wherever he fixed his summer residence, was to rise with the dawn, and, after making himself an early cup of coffee, to enjoy the fresh delights of early morning by going for a long walk in the surrounding forest. He then returned to work in his rooms until the time arrived for his mid-day dinner, taken usually in the garden of the 'Golden Lion'; for in these days he only dined occasionally, when accompanied by a friend, at the somewhat more expensive 'Bear.' By four o'clock he was generally in Frau Schumann's balcony for afternoon coffee and to pass an hour with her in music, conversation, or walking. More often than not he returned to supper at half-past seven, when his place was laid at table, as a matter of course, at Frau Schumann's right hand.

All the circumstances of his surroundings were favourable to his creative activity, which was unceasing, and the profound emotional experience that had recently moved and enriched his spirit had already caused in him the stirrings of the impulse that was to grow and gradually to dominate him until it had become embodied in a work which, had it been the only child of his genius known to the world, would have sufficed to immortalize his name.

Before Brahms' departure from Lichtenthal a communication from Hamburg added to his feelings of tenderness and regret the shadow of a grave family apprehension.

Having accepted engagements in Switzerland and Germany for the ante-Christmas concert-season, he remained on till the end of October in his quarters at Frau Becker's, and here, about a week before the commencement of his tournÉe, he received the news that his father had resolved to marry again, and had become engaged to a widow. The intelligence, such as it was, came direct from Jakob, but it contained no particulars whatever to soften the anxiety it aroused, no mention being made in it even of the name of the intended wife, and it threw the son into a state of the strongest agitation, in which the tender pang for the dear old mother may very possibly not have been the predominating element. Who could the wife-elect be? Would she make Jakob happy? Could the marriage state be happy except under the rarest combination of circumstances? Were there children of the widow's first marriage to be provided for? if so, by whom? Jakob's means could bear no additional burden. And yet, the dear, homely, uncultured father, often enough a butt for the wit of the younger musicians standing by his side in the Philharmonic orchestra; this musician without musical endowment, who loved his music and his instruments, as Johannes sometimes declared, if such affection were to be measured by proof given, better even than he himself loved his art; who had persevered doggedly through long years of privation and struggle in his endeavours to attain to some small place in the world of art, and had won it, his father—and it needs no prophet to realize the pathos of this thought to the loving heart of the great composer—did he not deserve happiness if happiness should follow the step? Johannes was that day capable of but two resolutions on the subject: first, that his father should be made happy if anything he could say or do could help to make him so, and, secondly, that as soon as his engagements should permit, he would go to Hamburg and judge for himself of the wisdom of Jakob's choice.

The first of Brahms' concert undertakings for the autumn was fulfilled on November 3 in the hall of the Museum, Carlsruhe, where he performed his Pianoforte Concerto at the first subscription concert of the season, accompanied by the grand-ducal orchestra under Levi. The work was received, for the first time, with every sign of approval. 'The people had the surprising kindness to be quite satisfied, to call for me, praise me, and all the rest of it,' he wrote to Dietrich.

Two of the vocal quartets, Op. 31, were included in the programme, and Brahms played some unaccompanied Schumann solos in the second part of the concert.

On the 6th of the month two new 'Magelone Romances' were sung for the first time in public by Krause, at a concert given in the same hall by Frau Schumann and Joachim; and before Brahms left Carlsruhe the first private performance took place of the newly-completed Trio in E flat for pianoforte, violin, and horn, a composition which has now long occupied a peculiar place in the affection of genuine lovers of his music on account of the tone of pure beauty that pervades it—beauty of sound, of mood, and idea. The noble simplicity of its themes and the spontaneous character which distinguishes their development hold the attention even of the unfamiliar listener from beginning to end of this inspired work, and the great musicianship of the composer has wrought it to a flawless example of its kind, in which no weak spot can be detected by deliberate examination. The adagio has the character of a lament, and can hardly be matched as an expression of profound sadness excepting by a few others of Brahms' and some of Beethoven's slow movements. The work was a favourite with the composer, and it is of interest to know from his own lips that its inception was due to an inspiration that came to him in the course of one of his walks near Lichtenthal. A year or two later than our present date, as he was ascending one of his beloved pine-clad hills in Dietrich's company, he showed his friend the exact spot where the opening theme of the first movement had occurred to him, saying: 'I was walking along one morning, and as I came to this spot the sun shone out and the subject immediately suggested itself.'[12]

From Carlsruhe Brahms proceeded to Switzerland, where he appeared at Basle, ZÜrich, and Winterthur. At ZÜrich he conducted his D major Serenade, given there two years previously under Fichtelberger, and performed the solo of Schumann's Pianoforte Concerto, and Bach's Chromatic Fantasia; and at Winterthur he gave a chamber music soirÉe in combination with his friend Theodor Kirchner and the young violinist F. Hegar. Of this Widmann, who saw and heard Brahms for the first time on the occasion, has given some account in his 'Recollections.'

'There was,' he writes, 'a something in his countenance which suggested the certainty of victory, the beaming cheerfulness of a poet happy in the exercise of his art.'

Returning to Germany, Brahms appeared next at Mannheim, and, on December 12, conducted his D major Serenade and played Beethoven's E flat Concerto at the fifth GÜrzenich subscription concert of the season at Cologne. He had but little success on this occasion either as pianist or composer. The serenade was criticised as being too lengthy and its themes as too 'naÏve' for his elaborate treatment of them. A different reception was accorded him at a soirÉe of chamber music held at the conservatoire, when he performed with Hiller his Duet Variations, Op. 23, and with von KÖnigslow and his colleagues the G minor Pianoforte Quartet. Both works were received with acclamation, and the composer achieved a success worthy of his position in the world of art. Before leaving Cologne Brahms played at a meeting of the Musikverein to a private audience of the members, most of them professors and students of the conservatoire. Amongst the pieces chosen by him for performance on this occasion were Bach's great Organ Prelude and Fugue in A minor.

And now the anxious son found opportunity to hurry with beating heart to Hamburg to see his father and to make the acquaintance of his stepmother-elect. To find, also, every probability that Jakob had chosen wisely, and that his contemplated change of life bade fair to ensure a happy and peaceful close to a career that had been full of hardship and uncertainty.

Frau Caroline Schnack, a handsome widow who had already been twice a wife, was just turned forty-one, and therefore more than seventeen years the junior of her proposed third husband. She had an only child, her son Fritz, born of her second marriage, now a lad of about thirteen. Capable and managing, she kept an excellent public dining-room for single men not far from the musicians' 'BÖrse,' described in an early chapter of our narrative, and had a regular clientÈle amongst the members of the Stadt Theater orchestra. Since the time when Johannes had thought it advisable for his parents to separate, Jakob had been one of her daily customers, and her good cooking and substantial capacity had gradually opened for her the way to his affection. Johannes, on his interview with Frau Schnack, was at once favourably impressed by her personality and gave his consent to the engagement, only insisting that full time for consideration on both sides should be allowed before the taking of the irrevocable step of marriage; and after a day or two in Hamburg he set out with a greatly relieved mind for Detmold, where he had arranged with Bargheer to spend the Christmas week and to reappear as composer and pianist on the scenes of his former activity.

The visit passed off most happily. The great composer, to whom, with some disappointment, much success and fame had come since his last sojourn in the little capital six years previously, was merry according to his wont when in the midst of familiar associates. Such changes as had taken place in the circle were for the better. Bargheer was married, Carl von Meysenbug engaged. The reunions of the former bachelor friends were enlivened by the presence of ladies—charming young married women and pretty girls—and Brahms was ready to abandon himself to any amount of fun, his almost extravagant buoyancy of spirits being no doubt assisted by the reaction from his late tension of mind in regard to his father's affairs. These social occasions were but the interludes between more serious pleasures. Every day there was music at the palace, the castle, or one or more of the private musical houses. Brahms conducted his A major Serenade and played Beethoven's E flat Concerto at an orchestral concert, and took part in a soirÉe at the palace, where, amongst other things, he performed the Kreutzer Sonata with Bargheer before the well-remembered sympathetic court circle. The visit, which was the last paid by him to Detmold, formed a fitting close to his association with Prince Leopold's court, to whose memory, and especially to that of the various members of the princely family, must ever attach the artistic distinction of their early recognition of the composer's genius and their appreciation of his personality.

Brahms' next destination was Oldenburg, where he arrived in time to celebrate the New Year's festival of 1866 with the Dietrichs. He played his own Concerto and an unpublished composition of Schubert at the subscription concert of January 5, and at the chamber music soirÉe of the 10th contributed some Bach solos to the programme and took part with Dietrich in a performance of Schumann's Variations in B flat, and with Engel and Westermann in the first public performance of his own Horn Trio, which created a deep impression. It is important to add here that Westermann used the natural horn on the occasion by the particular desire of Brahms, who now and always insisted to the hornists of his acquaintance on the impossibility of securing a poetical interpretation of his work with the ventil horn.

'If the performer is not obliged by the stopped notes to play softly the piano and violin are not obliged to adapt themselves to him, and the tone is rough from the beginning.'[13]

The appearances at Oldenburg closed the tournÉe. Gratified as our musician declared himself to be with the results of his journey, which, if it had not brought him a series of triumphs, had at least demonstrated the fact that his works were gradually making their way through the musical circles of Europe, it was not, as we know, part either of his inclination or his aim to prolong his occasional artistic travels. He chafed at the restriction to personal freedom resulting from fixed engagements, and at the disturbance of mind inseparable from hurried journeys from place to place, and this year he had more than ordinary reason for desiring to be settled again to the quiet concentration of thought essential to all art-creation worthy to be so called. After a second and longer stay in Hamburg that confirmed the satisfaction with which he had lately contemplated the idea of his father's approaching marriage, he returned to Carlsruhe to pass the rest of the winter in Allgeyer's house in Langenstrasse, now known as Kaiserstrasse.

The first quarter of the year 1866 witnessed the publication of a long list of works. By Rieter-Biedermann, the two sets of extraordinarily difficult and brilliant Paganini Variations for Pianoforte, which, when in the hands of a competent executant, are found to be full of original and striking effects, even if they be inferior in musical value to the composer's other achievements in this form[14]; the three Sacred Choruses, Op. 37, for unaccompanied women's voices, and mentioned in our first volume in connection with the Ladies' Choir. By Simrock, the second String Sextet in G major, worthy sister to its companion work, though it has not obtained quite so wide a popularity, and the Sonata in E minor, dedicated to Dr. Josef GÄnsbacher. The Horn Trio was issued by the same house quite at the end of the year.[15]

The Sonata in E minor for pianoforte and violoncello, the earliest of Brahms' seven published duet sonatas for pianoforte and another instrument, all of which are characteristic examples of certain sides of his genius, is a valuable number in the comparatively short list of works of its class for the violoncello. The first movement is of graceful, expressive, delicately melodious character, rising at one point of the development section towards passion, but returning immediately to the dainty, dreaming mood by which the composer so often subdues his hearers to the spell of his imagination. The 'allegretto quasi menuetto' which follows is an exquisite example of a species of movement in the making of which Brahms stands unrivalled. It fascinates with irresistible certainty by its ethereal, playful, poetic fancy, to which the touch of seriousness in the trio offers just sufficient, not too pronounced, contrast. The finale is written con amore in the form of a free fugue, which, full of spirit and energy throughout its course, rattles to its close in a lively coda. Care should be taken not to exaggerate the pace of this movement in performance. If taken too quickly, the violoncello passages lose their due effect.

On his return to Carlsruhe, Brahms settled down to the actual writing of the German Requiem, with which he was occupied during the succeeding months, and it was one of Allgeyer's favourite recollections in later years that a portion of the inspired work had been put on paper under his roof.

It is well known that Brahms' nearest friends accepted the composition as his memorial of his mother. 'We all think he wrote it in her memory, though he has never expressly said so,' Frau Schumann told the author some years later. 'Never has a nobler monument been raised by filial love,' said Joachim, referring to the German Requiem in the course of his address at the Brahms Memorial Festival held at Meiningen in October, 1899; and we may at least say with certainty that the work, which must be regarded as the crowning point of much of the composer's previous activity, is, on the whole, a memorial of the emotions by which he was stirred during the period that immediately succeeded his mother's death, apart from the question of whether or not he had planned it at an earlier time. It is, however, a circumstance of great interest that the strains he had conceived in his grief for the tragedy of Schumann's illness recurred to him as appropriate for the solemn mourning march—one of the most vivid and extraordinary of his inspirations—of the Requiem,[16] and we cannot be wrong in assuming that the remembrance of his beloved friend was with him as he worked. Perhaps we may venture to think that two of the strongest affections and griefs of Brahms' life, associated with strangely contrasted objects—Schumann, the great genius and master, Johanna, the simple old mother—live together in this exalted music. There is no warrant for the statement of anything more precise as to the composer's intention excepting with regard to the fifth number, the soprano solo with chorus, which was added some time after the completion of the other movements. Of this it may be said definitely, as will presently appear, that whilst Brahms was engaged in writing it the thought of his mother was present in a special sense to his memory.

Jakob's marriage with Frau Schnack took place in March, rather more than a year after the death of his first wife. Johannes sent a substantial sum of money as a wedding present, and his great contentment in the anticipation of his father's happiness was a constant and favourite theme in his talks with Allgeyer, always an interested and sympathetic listener.

Frau Caroline's business was given up, and the newly-married pair settled into a comfortable flat on the fourth floor of No. 5, Anscharplatz, at the corner of Valentin's Camp, a respectable business quarter of Hamburg, where there was sufficient accommodation to allow Frau Caroline to turn her housekeeping talents to account by taking two or three men boarders. A large airy room, 'the corner room,' was reserved for Johannes, who was ultimately responsible for the rent of the flat, and to it were transferred his books, bookcase, and other belongings, from the apartments that had been his mother's in the Lange Reihe, whilst Elise arranged to live near an aunt in another quarter of the city. A photograph of Johannes, taken by Allgeyer, was sent to Jakob a few weeks after the wedding as a permanent souvenir of his son's felicitations on the occasion. It is still in existence, and is now in the possession of Herr Fritz Schnack, 'the second Fritz,' as Johannes caressingly called his quasi stepbrother.

Persuaded by Theodor Kirchner, who was at this time resident in ZÜrich, to spend the summer near him, Brahms, arriving in the middle of April, found a lodging in a small house on the ZÜrichberg which commanded a splendid prospect of lake and mountain. Here every facility was abundantly at hand for his enjoyment. Dividing his time, from a very early hour of the morning until noon, between musing in the open air and work in his room, he was usually to be met about twelve o'clock in the museum, which became a place of rendezvous for his friends. After the early dinner, always taken out of doors in fine weather, and a more or less prolonged sitting over newspapers, or in chat with acquaintance, in the open air, he would drop in at a friend's house, generally Kirchner's, pass an hour or two in informal sociability, and often make music with some of the resident musicians. It was at Kirchner's that he became acquainted with the celebrated Swiss writer and poet, Gottfried Keller, and with the distinguished ZÜrich professor of surgery, Dr. Theodor Billroth, who was some four years our composer's senior, and who, called subsequently to Vienna, became one of Brahms' most familiar friends. Billroth's love for music was second only to his devotion to his own great vocation. He had studied the violin under Eschmann, played at a weekly trio meeting at his house in Plattenstrasse, ZÜrich, and was sufficiently proficient to take part on the viola with professional musicians in private performances of Beethoven's quartets and Brahms' sextets. He could play the piano well, was a good sight-reader, and acted occasionally as musical critic to one of the ZÜrich papers.

'Brahms arrived here a few days ago,' he writes on the 22nd of April to his friend, Professor LÜbke of Stuttgart. 'This morning he and Kirchner played some of Liszt's symphonic poems on two pianofortes. Horrible music!... We purged ourselves with Brahms' new sextet that has just come out. Brahms and Kirchner played it as a duet.'[17]

The composer became intimate, also, at the house of Herr and Frau Wesendonck, who had been Wagner's great friends during his residence at ZÜrich, and could not hear enough about the composer of the 'Meistersinger,' of whom the Wesendoncks possessed inexhaustible personal recollections and several valuable souvenirs. Amongst these was the master's autograph score of the 'Rheingold,' an object that was regarded by Brahms with a respect almost amounting to veneration.

Traits of habit and character similar to those with which the reader is familiar, and which recall the period of the Detmold visits, are described in Steiner's 'Recollections,' by Capellmeister F. Hegar,[18] who was the inseparable associate of Brahms and Kirchner:

'... We were no less impressed by his extraordinarily sound health. He could venture upon anything. How often has he passed the night on the sofa of my bachelor's quarters when he was disinclined to climb the ZÜrichberg in the late hours of evening. Once indeed, when an older friend less hardy than himself claimed my hospitality, he lay down underneath my grand piano, and declared next morning that he had slept splendidly.'

Hegar mentions that Brahms' musical memory and unusually rapid power of apprehension excited the astonished admiration of the ZÜrich musicians.

'When we played him our compositions for the first time, he would afterwards sit down and repeat long portions note for note from memory, pointing out the weak places.'

One or two reminiscences of the summer are to be found in the volume of Billroth's letters from which quotation has already been made. Amongst them is the description of a music-party at his house, at which Brahms was present to hear a performance of his lately-published Sextet in G major. The consciousness of the composer's presence so unnerved Billroth that he was obliged to ask Eschmann, who was amongst the listeners, to relieve him of his part of second viola.

'I have learnt never to play before a composer,' he wrote a few days afterwards, 'unless his work has been well rehearsed. As I was quite familiar with the composition, I could imagine the vexation Brahms must have felt, although he put the matter aside in the kindest way. Kirchner, Brahms and Hegar had been up late together the night before and were tired. Everything contributed to make the evening dull.'

Of the sextet he says: 'I think it wonderfully fine; so clear, so simple, so masterly.'

Brahms remained in Switzerland until the middle of August, and, arriving on the 17th of this month to stay for a few weeks at his old lodgings in Lichtenthal, surprised Frau Schumann by appearing before her for the first time with a beard. He did not at this period persevere very long in wearing the appendage, which changed his appearance in an unusual degree, but he adopted it a second time, and, as it proved, permanently, about fourteen years later.

The composer had worked steadily on at the German Requiem during the months of his residence in ZÜrich, and that he now completed it in Lichtenthal—save and excepting only the fifth number—is to be inferred from the inscription on the manuscript score—'Baden-Baden im Sommer, 1866'—now in possession of the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde at Vienna. Great additional interest is given to this date by a short entry made by Frau Schumann in her diary early in September, which is, without doubt, the earliest written note upon the now famous work.

'Johannes has been playing me some magnificent movements out of a Requiem of his own and a string quartet in C minor. The Requiem delighted me even more, however. It is full of tender and again daring thoughts. I cannot feel clear as to how it will sound, but in myself it sounds glorious.'[19]

The extract has a double interest, as furnishing a new illustration of Brahms' caution with regard to publication, and especially in the case of works which constituted for him a new artistic departure. The String Quartet in C minor was not published until 1873, seven years from our present date.

About the middle of September Joachim appeared in Lichtenthal, and after a few days' stay there carried Brahms away with him. He had become a man at large through the political events of the year, by which the kingdom of Hanover became part of Prussia, having felt it impossible to accept the offer made him to retain his appointment after the deposition of King George, and was able to follow his inclination as to his arrangements for the autumn and winter season. These included tours in Switzerland and France, and it was ultimately arranged between the friends that Johannes should combine with him in some of his Swiss concerts.

Brahms spent most of the intervening time in Hamburg, and was so happy in his comfortable corner room in the Anscharplatz that he began seriously to entertain the idea of settling down again under his father's roof. Frau Caroline managed the household with careful but judicious thrift, and there was peace and contentment in the home. In his own way Jakob was as regular in his habits as his son. Every morning he went to the 'BÖrse' to inquire for work, and was generally successful in obtaining small engagements, often to act as substitute in the theatre orchestras. His position as bassist at the Stadt Theater had come to an end in the course of the fifties, owing to changes in the management, but he continued a member of the Philharmonic orchestra until a year before his death. He was proud and fond of Frau Caroline, always came home as soon as his work was done to enjoy the good plain fare which she had ready for him, and was perfectly happy as he sat in the kitchen with his pipe and a large cup of thin coffee, watching her movements. Once a week he amused himself by walking in the Jews' quarter of the city and inspecting the cheap second-hand wares with which the vendors sought to tempt his custom. His weakness for bargains was sometimes a source of embarrassment to his wife, in spite of her firmness in limiting his loose pocket-money to the sum of a few pence. Now he would send home to her a quantity of wardrobe hooks, another time many pounds'-weight of honey. 'Goodness, Brahms! what are we to do with it?' she would despairingly inquire. 'Yes, Lina, but I couldn't let it stand at the price,' he would answer. Johannes used to lecture his father on his weakness for spending money, telling him how careful he himself was obliged to be, and could be seriously vexed if he found that Jakob had been really extravagant or thoughtless. This, however, occurred but seldom.

A letter to Dietrich from the Anscharplatz mentions the Requiem, and evidently answers an inquiry from Albert as to the long-delayed Symphony in C minor of which we heard in the summer of 1862.

'Dear Dietrich!

'Before the summer is over you shall be reminded of me by a short greeting....

'Unfortunately I cannot wait upon you with a symphony, but it would be a joy to have you here for a day, to play you my so-called German Requiem.

'I have been till now living in Switzerland, in ZÜrich. I shall stay here a little and think of going then to Vienna....'[20]

The concert-journey with Joachim was very successful, and afforded Brahms quite unexpected evidence of the progress his music was making in Switzerland. This country was, in fact, one of the earliest in which his art met with general appreciation, and much of the credit of its acceptance there must be ascribed to the efforts of Theodor Kirchner, who, as the reader may remember, was one of the most gifted musicians of the Schumann circle, and who seized every opportunity that offered from the beginning of Brahms' career, to spread the understanding of his compositions. Kirchner filled an organist's post at Winterthur for nearly ten years before his removal to ZÜrich in 1862, and, whilst developing an active musical life in the little town, made his influence felt far beyond its limits.

The tour opened on October 24 in Schaffhausen, and included Winterthur, Basle, and finally MÜhlhausen in Alsace. An interesting incident of the visit to MÜhlhausen was the renewal of friendly relations, after ten years of estrangement, between Joachim and von BÜlow, who was resident during the season 1866-67 at Basle, and gave Trio concerts there with Abel and Kahnt. No communication took place between the former Weimar intimates during the week passed by Brahms and Joachim at Basle, but BÜlow's affectionate nature was strongly stirred by seeing his old friend again on the concert-platform and hearing his public performances, which he describes as 'ideal perfection.' The sequel may be told in the words of his letter to Raff, dated Basle, November 22.

'And now, a great piece of news. On Sunday the 10th I travelled to MÜhlhausen for the Brahms-Joachim concert, and the relation of friendship between Joachim and me was renewed on French soil after ten years' interruption. This will lead to no results of a positive nature, but a stone has been taken from my heart, and from his also as he has assured your sister-in-law. For my sake Joachim returned to Basle for a few hours and then took the night train to Paris.'[21]

Some years were yet to elapse before BÜlow could pretend to any cordiality of feeling towards the art of Brahms. In another letter of 1866 we read:

'I respect and admire him, but—at a distance. The Pianoforte Quintet seems to me the most interesting of his large compositions.... Kiel is much more sympathetic to me.'[21]

He prevailed upon himself, indeed, to play the Horn Trio at his Basle Trio concert of March 26, 1867, when his colleagues were Abel and Hans Richter, who commenced his artist's career as a hornist, and was at this time living in Switzerland in the enjoyment of Wagner's intimacy; and he included Joachim's Variations for viola and pianoforte in the same programme; but as late as 1870 he wrote to Raff:

'What do the Br.'s matter to me? Brahms, BrahmÜller, Bruch, etc. Don't mention them again! Who knows whether a Riehl may not turn up in 1950 to beplutarch them as maestrinelli? The only one who interests me is Braff!'

The fact that von BÜlow's critical faculty was subject to the disturbing influence of his capacity for warm friendship cannot lessen the admiration inspired by his talents and his generous nature. His severe animadversions on Brahms' works, together with his practical neglect of them up to a period when his opinion as to their merits had become very much a matter of indifference, may be pardoned by the lovers of our master's art, who remember that they were, for the most part, the outcome of his deep personal affection for Liszt, Wagner, and Joachim, and of his long-continued intimate association with the leaders and prominent disciples of the New-German school.

Brahms returned to Vienna, after about a year and a half of absence, immediately after his friend's departure from MÜhlhausen, and spent the winter quietly at work in his room on the fourth story of No. 6, Poststrasse. The earliest event of any importance to his career that marks the opening months of the year 1867 is the first public performance of the Sextet in G major, which was given at the Hellmesberger concert of February 3. The reader will by this time hardly be surprised to learn that the work was received without enthusiasm.

'The composer was certainly called for and applauded,' says Schelle, Hanslick's successor in the Presse, and a loyal though unbiassed supporter of Brahms, 'but it was with a certain reserve. One felt distinctly that the public was not carried away by the work, but desired to do justice to so admirable an achievement.... Brahms may be called a virtuoso in the modern development of the quartet style, ... but only that can reach the heart which proceeds from the heart, and the sextet comes from the hand and the head, whilst the warm pulsations of the heart are to be felt only at intervals.'

So Bach's works were once spoken of, so Beethoven's in their day. So, it may almost be said, must be criticised all musical creative achievement that adequately expresses an original individuality. The composer of genius has to go through a long apprenticeship before he acquires a language of his own really capable of conveying his thoughts to the world. By the time he is master of it, he has, by the nature of things, placed himself outside the immediate comprehension of all but a few specially qualified listeners, and must be willing to wait for his reward until some of those to whom he speaks have had time to follow him a certain distance along his appointed path, and opportunity to become familiarized with his manner of utterance. Brahms was content to wait, and he waited almost with equanimity of spirit, never losing faith in the future, though he had something more pronounced to encounter than indifference. Hirsch, of the Wiener Zeitung, wrote apropos of the sextet:

'We are always seized with a kind of oppression when the new John in the wilderness, Herr Johannes Brahms, announces himself. This prophet, proclaimed by Robert Schumann in his darkening hours, who, for the rest, has his energetic admirers in Vienna—we mention this in our position, from pure love of truth—makes us quite disconsolate with his impalpable, dizzy tone-vexations that have neither body nor soul and can only be products of the most desperate effort. Such manifest, glaring, artificiality is quite peculiar to this gentleman. How many drops of perspiration may adhere to these note-heads?'

On the 25th of this same month of February, the earlier B flat Sextet, by this time almost popular in more than one Continental city, and long known in New York through Mason's concerts, was performed for the first time in England at the Monday Popular Concerts, St. James's Hall, London, by Joachim, Louis Ries, Henry Blagrove, Zerbini, Paque, and Piatti. The director, S. Arthur Chappell, printed a notice in the programme-books to the effect that he introduced the work by Joachim's desire. It made no impression, and the composer was not again heard at the Popular Concerts for five years.

If the recognition of Brahms' exact claims as a composer, even by his Austrian public, long remained dubious, his qualities as a pianist seldom failed to evoke unmistakable signs of their warm approval. With the arrival of March he prevailed upon himself this year to announce concerts in Vienna, Graz, Klagenfurth, and Pesth, and the success of his performances was unequivocal, in spite of the approach of spring and the unusual warmth of the season.

'At last a pianist who entirely takes hold of one,' exclaims Schelle, writing of the first concert; 'one only needs to hear his first few chords to be convinced that Herr Brahms is a player of quite extraordinary stamp. The musical critic of the Wiener Zeitung writes that Herr Brahms was cordially received by his "party." We may remark that Brahms was received, not by a "party," but by the entire very numerous public, with applause such as is seldom heard in Vienna concert-rooms. If, however, the audience of the evening is to be described as the "party" of the distinguished artist, it must be said that his party consists of the cultivated experts of musical Vienna.'

The instrumental numbers of the programme were Beethoven's Fantasia, Op. 77; Bach's G major Fantasia; Brahms' Scherzo; Schumann's Etudes Symphoniques; Brahms' Paganini Variations. The concert-giver played as an additional piece his own arrangement for the pianoforte of the fugue from Beethoven's String Quartet, Op. 59, No. 3,

'which,' says Schelle, 'claims almost more admiration even than his performance, for it is a most faithful reflection of the entire score which we meet unchanged in the effective costume.'

At the second concert in Vienna, which took place on April 7, after Brahms' return from the provinces, the programme included Bach's F major Toccata; Beethoven's Sonata, Op. 109; Brahms' Handel Variations and Fugue; Schumann's Fantasia in C, Op. 17; and short pieces by Scarlatti and Schubert. As an additional piece, an arrangement of a movement from Schubert's Octet was conceded. Vocal numbers were included in both programmes.

Brahms himself mentions the concerts in a letter to Dietrich.

'The result was so good in every respect,' he writes, 'that I must call myself doubly an ass for not having secured it earlier and taken the opportunity to get rid of my Requiem.'He let the work lie for several months longer, however, without coming to any decision about it. On July 30 he again wrote to Dietrich:

'... In all haste: I start to-morrow with my father on a little tour through Upper Austria. I do not know when I shall be back. Keep the accompanying Requiem until I write to you. Don't let it go out of your hands and write to me very seriously by-and-by what you think of it.

'An offer from Bremen would be very acceptable to me.

'It would have to be combined with a concert engagement. In short Reinthaler must probably be sufficiently pleased with the thing to do something for it.

'For the rest, I am inclined to let such matters quietly alone, for I do not intend to worry myself about them.

'I am ready for anything from Christmas onwards. Joachim and I probably gave concerts here before.'

There is a trace of nervous anxiety in this letter which leaves little doubt that Brahms had within him the consciousness that in the German Requiem he had transcended all his previous achievements, and that he was even unusually anxious to ensure a favourable opportunity for the hearing of his new work. Until now it had been submitted to none of his companions, save, perhaps, Joachim, and it is evident that he did not easily bring himself to the resolution of sending it away even for Dietrich's sympathetic inspection, and that, whilst he hoped, he somewhat dreaded to hear the result of a communication with Reinthaler. We must postpone for awhile our account of the fortunes of the manuscript in order to follow our musician on his holiday journey, on which he no doubt started with a mind sufficiently relieved by the mere fact of his decision to be able to await with composure the next issues of fate.

Herr kÖniglich Musikdirektor Carl Martin Reinthaler (born 1822), municipal music-director of Bremen and organist of the cathedral, to whom the manuscript is meanwhile to be submitted, was a distinguished musician and the composer of numerous works in very varied forms, vocal and instrumental. His oratorio 'Jepthah' was performed in London in 1856 under John Hullah's direction; several of his operas—'KÄthchen von Heilbronn,' 'Edda,' etc.—composed later in his career, were given with success in Bremen, Hanover, and other towns; and his 'Bismarck Hymn' won the prize in a competition adjudged at Dortmund. By his talent and earnestness in his position as conductor of the orchestral concerts at Bremen, he did much to raise the standard of musical taste in the city.