gREMENYI 
 
 r MUSICIAN AND MA^ 
 
 APPRECIATION 
 

EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 Musician, Litterateur, and Man 
 Att ^pptttisitlan 
 
-'\:::^':. 7r 
 
 •> 1^ ^ 1 ' 
 
tt r«c,ecc c 
 
 
 ( From a pholograph taken in Riverside, California, in 1895) 
 
EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 Musician, Litterateur, and Man 
 Att Appr^natton 
 
 WITH SKETCHES OF HIS LIFE AND ARTISTIC CAREER, BY FRIENDS 
 
 AND CONTEMPORARIES, TO WHICH ARE ADDED CRITICAL 
 
 REVIEWS OF HIS PLAYING AND SELECTIONS 
 
 FROM HIS LITERARY PAPERS AND 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE 
 
 BY 
 
 GWENDOLYN DUNLEVY KELLEY 
 
 AND 
 
 GEORGE P. UPTON 
 
 Illustrated from Photographs 
 
 CHICAGO 
 A, C. McCLURG & CO, 
 
 1906 
 

 Copyright 
 
 A. C. McClurg & Co. 
 
 J906 
 
 Published April 14, 1906 
 
 • • •„€ 
 
 R. R. DONNELLEY & SONS COMPANY 
 CHICAGO 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 Foreword ix 
 
 Editor's Note . . . xi 
 
 PART I 
 BIOGRAPHICAL AND APPRECIATIVE 
 
 Biographical Sketch. George P. Upton ... 9 
 
 Master and Man. Gwendolyn Dunlevy Kelley . . 30 
 
 Life Sketch. Madame Remenyi 40 
 
 Reminiscences. Colonel Henry J. Kowalsky ... 48 
 Acquaintance and Friendship with Remenyi. 
 
 Mary Dunlevy Kelley 57 
 
 Sidelights on Remenyi as a Man. E. T. Cornelis . 70 
 
 Remenyi's Home and its Treasures. '' Un Cosaque^* 74 
 Remenyi, Liszt, and Brahms. Extract from ^'The 
 
 New York Herald y" January 18,1879 . . . 79 
 
 Remenyi as a Patriot. Morris Cukor .... 96 
 
 PART II 
 DEATH OF REMENYI AND TRIBUTES TO HIS GENIUS 
 
 Death of Remenyi. Extract from *^The New York 
 
 Herald" May 16, 1898 loi 
 
 Remenyi's Death on the Stage. Colonel Henry J. 
 
 Kowalsky 103 
 
 The Funeral Services in New York . . . .107 
 
 292357 
 
vi CONTENTS 
 
 In Memoriam. *'Corvina'' iii 
 
 Anecdotes OF Remenyi. Dr. Alexander Rixa . . 113 
 
 Further Anecdotes OF Remenyi 121 
 
 PART III 
 SKETCHES AND LETTERS 
 
 Music 133 
 
 Popular Music 135 
 
 Hindu Music 147 
 
 American versus European Civilization . . .156 
 
 Italy and the Golden Era of the Renaissance . 160 
 
 Architecture Past and Present 163 
 
 Greek and Japanese Art 165 
 
 Prediction of the Future of the United States . 167 
 
 Love of Natural Scenery 170 
 
 Gabriele d'Annunzio 172 
 
 Father Niagara 174 
 
 An Essay on Bach . . . . . . . .175 
 
 Violins and Violin-making 178 
 
 Paintings — Greuze and Rembrandt . . . .182 
 
 Aphorisms 184 
 
 Notes and Letters written to a Young Friend . 186 
 Correspondence between Robert G. Ingersoll and 
 
 Remenyi, i 880-1 898 203 
 
 PART IV 
 PRESS TRIBUTES, LIST OF COMPOSITIONS, ETC. 
 
 Press Tributes 213 
 
 Remenyi 's Compositions 242 
 
 Programme of Remenyi 's First Concert in the 
 
 United States (1850) 243 
 
 INDEX 247 
 
LIST OF PORTRAITS 
 
 PAGE 
 
 Portrait of ReMENYI, 1895 . . . Frontispiece 
 
 Portrait of Remenyi, 1882 . . . - 38 
 Portrait of Remenyi with Brahms, the Com- 
 poser, 1853 80 
 
 Portrait of Remenyi with Maximilian Vog- 
 
 RiCH, 1879 94 
 
 Death-mask of Remenyi 108 
 
 Portrait of Remenyi taken in Denver, Colo- 
 rado 118 
 
 Portrait of Remenyi with his Stradivarius, i 89 i 178 
 Portrait of Remenyi, 1897 . . . .188 
 Last Portrait of Remenyi, with Madame 
 
 Brehany, 1897 202 
 
FOREWORD 
 
 IN presenting the following portions of letters from 
 Edouard Remenyi, and supplementary sketches 
 kindly furnished by a few of his friends, I wish it to 
 be understood that it has never been my idea to 
 make this a complete biography. It is rather a 
 gathering up and weaving together of the leaves 
 which Remenyi himself had requested me to save — 
 the skeleton of a work that "might have been." 
 
 Gwendolyn Dunlevy Kelley. 
 
EDITOR'S NOTE 
 
 AS my collaborator says, this work is not to be 
 regarded as a biography in the ordinary mean- 
 ing of that word. It is simply a collection of bio- 
 graphical documents, many of them intrusted to her 
 by Remenyi, others contributed at her solicitation by 
 his personal friends and members of his family. It 
 was his desire that this material should be preserved, 
 and it was unquestionably his intention some day to 
 use it in making a story of his life. That day unfor- 
 tunately never came, but his friend, Miss Kelley, 
 knowing his purpose, collected the material after 
 his death, added her own enthusiastic tribute, and 
 intrusted the whole to me to be edited. This I have 
 done, carrying out to the best of my ability the pur- 
 pose merely of preserving the documentary informa- 
 tion necessary for a complete biography of the artist 
 and of furnishing a valuable work of reference for 
 musical students. 
 
 George P. Upton. 
 
 Chicago, February i, 1906. 
 
EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 Musician, Litterateur, and Man 
 
 PART I 
 BIOGRAPHICAL AND APPRECIATIVE 
 
 BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 
 
 EDOUARD REMENYI was born at Miskolcz, 
 Hungary, July 17, 1830. He was of Jewish 
 descent, son of John and Rosalie Hoffmann, and at 
 some later period Hungarianized his name to Re- 
 menyi.* The earliest reports aflSrm that he began 
 the study of music in Eger, Heves County, at the age 
 of seven, but his childhood was mainly spent in Mis- 
 kolcz, capital of the county of Borsod. That he 
 should have Hungarianized his name is not strange. 
 To the end of his adventurous life, though always 
 a restless wanderer, appearing and disappearing in 
 the strangest manner, he was an ardent Hungarian, 
 and his national sentiment was reflected alike in his 
 life and in his music. 
 
 * Riemann, in the latest edition of his " Dictionary of Music" enters 
 Remenyi as follows: " Remenyi, Edouard {Hoffmann, called R.), famous 
 violinist," etc. 
 
lo •.' EPpUAHl? .REMENYI 
 
 Rexiieia^djsi'ii^itsical tare^r began in 1839, about 
 which time he entered the Vienna Conservatory, 
 where he studied the violin under Joseph Bohm, 
 the teacher of Joachim and Laube. Some writers 
 state that he was at this time a pupil of Joachim's, 
 which is manifestly incorrect, as both entered the 
 Conservatory at about the same time, Remenyi 
 being then nine and Joachim eight years of age. 
 Little is known of Remenyi's work in the Conserva- 
 tory, except that he carried off one or two prizes. 
 That he made satisfactory progress is certain, for 
 shortly after his graduation he gave concerts at 
 Pesth with great success. 
 
 The year 1848 was an eventful one in the young 
 artist's life. The uprising against Austria, organ- 
 ized by Kossuth and others, appealed to Remenyi, 
 as it did to all young Hungarians, and roused his 
 patriotic fervor. As soon as the opportunity offered 
 itself, he took service under General Gorgey, who 
 succeeded Kossuth as dictator, and acted as a kind 
 of musical aide-de-camp to that officer. The revo- 
 lutionary army hailed him as its camp violinist. 
 His superior officer also evidently considered his 
 violin a more effective agency in the service than his 
 sword, for he would not permit him to go into battle. 
 There are stories that, carried away by enthusiasm, 
 he sometimes eluded Gorgey's vigilance and was 
 found on the field, but even there he was carefully 
 protected; Gorgey knew the value of his musical 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH ii 
 
 services, and saved him from any unnecessary risks. 
 So his time was mainly occupied in keeping up the 
 spirits of the revolutionists by playing the "czardas " 
 about the watchfires, or the " Racokzy march " 
 from village to village with its stirring call to arms. 
 That the Government appreciated the dangerous 
 possibilities of his playing in spreading the insurrec- 
 tionary spirit is shown by its effort to suppress it, but 
 he escaped its vigilance. The revolution was short- 
 lived, however. The final surrender was made at 
 Vilagos, August 13, 1849. 
 
 Like many another, Remenyi was obliged to ex- 
 patriate himself and seek refuge in the United States, 
 where he supported himself by the practice of his 
 art. His first concert was given at Niblo's Garden, 
 New York, January 19, 1850, with the assistance 
 of Mme. Stephani, a soprano vocalist, H. C. Timm, 
 pianist, and William Scharfenberg, pianist and 
 violinist, — two of the ablest musicians of that time, 
 — and an orchestra led by Theodore Eisfeld, one of 
 the pioneers of orchestral music in this country. 
 He remained in the United States but six months 
 and then returned to Europe. 
 
 The year 1853 marked an eventful period in 
 Remenyi's life. Early in that year he was giving 
 concerts in Hamburg. Upon one occasion, his ac- 
 companist being ill, he made inquiries among the 
 local musicians for a substitute and was referred to 
 Brahms, who was at that time teaching music and 
 
12 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 much in need of money. Brahms readily accepted 
 Remenyi's offer, and so commended himself by his 
 great ability that the latter was delighted with him 
 and suggested that they should make a concert tour. 
 Brahms, who was as young, as enthusiastic, and as 
 poor as his associate, at once accepted the proposition. 
 They left Hamburg in the Spring of 1853 for Weimar, 
 paying their travelling expenses by giving concerts; 
 for Remenyi had still another object in view. He 
 wished to go to Weimar to introduce to Liszt the 
 genius he had discovered. Upon reaching Hanover 
 Remenyi called upon Joachim, who had been his 
 fellow-student in Vienna, and asked him for a letter 
 of introduction for Brahms and himself to King 
 George, who was quite a musical amateur. The 
 two played before His Majesty, who applauded 
 Remenyi's performance but failed to recognize 
 Brahms's ability, though subsequently he was forced 
 to concede it. Arriving at Weimar, they promptly 
 called upon Liszt and were given the hospitality of 
 his home. Upon their first meeting they played to 
 Liszt, and Liszt in turn played some of Brahms^s 
 compositions, among them a sonata, during the 
 performance of which Brahms went to sleep. Sub- 
 sequently he explained his discourteous act by say- 
 ing that he was too fatigued by his journey to keep 
 awake. Liszt, however, was so unfavorably dis- 
 posed toward Brahms on account of his seeming 
 slight that Remenyi urged his companion to make 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 13 
 
 a change. He wrote at once to Joachim, asking 
 him to give Brahms a letter of introduction to 
 Schumann. With this letter, which prepared the 
 way for his subsequent success, Brahms left for 
 Diisseldorf, Remenyi remaining with Liszt. The 
 first tidings they heard from Brahms was contained 
 in the famous article, " Neue Bahnen," which 
 Schumann wrote for the Leipsic, "Neue Zeitschrift 
 flir Musik," in which he hailed Brahms as the 
 " New Messiah of Music." This is the version of 
 their relations substantially as given by Remenyi 
 himself. 
 
 There are other versions of this interesting episode. 
 Joachim himself has contributed a statement to the 
 new edition of Grove's " Dictionary of Music," 
 saying in effect that while Remenyi and Brahms 
 were at Hanover they visited him. He felt that 
 Brahms had a great future before him, and that 
 association with Remenyi, whose career was to be 
 that of a virtuoso, would not suit his tastes. He 
 therefore suggested to Brahms, if at any time he 
 should wish for more congenial work, to let him 
 know. Some weeks after this, Brahms visited 
 Joachim at Gottingen, and at the close of his stay 
 his host gave him a letter to Schumann. 
 
 Dr. Herman Deiters, in his biographical sketch 
 of Brahms, says: 
 
 " In 1853 he left home to accompany the Hungarian violinist Re- 
 menyi on a concert tour. During his tour he visited among other places 
 
14 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 Hanover, Gottingen, and Weimar, and by his playing and composi- 
 tions, attracted the attention of Joachim and Liszt. The former 
 was especially struck, when, in Gottingen, on account of the low 
 pitch of the piano, Brahms transposed Beethoven's " Kreutzer 
 Sonata," without having the notes before him, from A into B flat. 
 This success resulted in his severing his connection with Remenyi 
 and going to Dusseldorf in October, 1853, with an introduction from 
 Joachim to Schumann." 
 
 It should not be difficult to understand the reasons 
 for the separation of Remenyi and Brahms. Not- 
 withstanding Brahms's unfortunate experience at his 
 first meeting with Liszt — which is confirmed by 
 William Mason, at that time a pupil of Liszt — the 
 latter was greatly interested in his music. Joachim 
 had also recognized his superior ability; and when 
 Schumann not only recognized it, but recorded his 
 prophecy concerning " this chosen youth, over whose 
 cradle the Graces and Heroes seem to have kept 
 watch," is it strange that Brahms should have felt 
 that he had come to the parting of the ways with his 
 companion, who was a gypsy by nature and a virtuoso 
 by profession, and that he must take the " new paths " 
 which were to lead him to creative success ? This 
 much, however, must be placed to Remenyi's credit, 
 he was the first to recognize Brahms's ability. With 
 all the enthusiasm of his impulsive nature he de- 
 clared to Liszt that he had discovered a genius. 
 He made him known to Joachim and Liszt, and 
 through them to Schumann, who made him known 
 to the world. Remenyi never cherished resentment 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 15 
 
 against Brahms for ignoring him. A short time 
 before his death he began to write a complete ac- 
 count of his personal relations with Brahms for 
 Mr. W. S. B. Matthews's magazine, " Music," but 
 he finished only an introductory fragment. It con- 
 tains the following striking characterization as well 
 as friendly tribute to his old companion : 
 
 " Taking a broad view of him, Brahms was a man; a manly nature 
 in contrast to the degenerate effemination of present-day art; a 
 sturdy North German, sound to the roots, detesting pretences and 
 mannerisms, an enemy of empty phrases; distinguished, forcible in 
 character, strong in will and sentiment; a man possessing under a 
 hard and rough exterior a warm and throbbing heart. Thus in 
 Brahms the requirements for a true artist are an inseparable unit. 
 Equipped with the highest artistic endowments, genius, and origi- 
 nality, having the power which can create and need not borrow, en- 
 dowed with artistic culture in all its ramifications, he has created 
 masterpieces, long secure in the sacred shrine of German music; 
 treasures wrought of precious metal, remaining untarnished forever. 
 Brahms's systematic development reminds one forcibly of the 
 evolution of Beethoven; a healthy instinct conjoined with im- 
 perturbable self-criticism always guarded him against mistake; 
 and, although a bom lyrist, he withstood the alluring voice of the 
 stage, and never was faithless to his mission." 
 
 In passing, it is pleasant to note the high opinion 
 Liszt formed of Remenyi as an artist. In 1854 he 
 writes to Karl Klind worth: 
 
 "Your Murl* connection and Murl-wanderings with Remenyi 
 are an excellent dispensation of fate, and on July 6, the day of 
 your concert at Leicester, the Weimar Murls shall be invited to supper 
 at the Altenberg, and Remenyi and Klindworth shall be toasted for 
 ever." 
 
 * Liszt was the President of the Murls, or anti-Philistines, in Weimar. 
 
i6 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 Ten years later, writing to Franz Brendel, he 
 
 says: 
 
 " Of all the violinists I know I could scarcely name three who 
 could equal him as regards effect." 
 
 Five years later still he writes to Johann Von Her- 
 beck: 
 
 " He has delighted and captivated every one here, the critics as 
 well as the public, and that is verily no small matter, for in Weimar 
 we are accustomed to the most distinguished violin-virtuosos." ~ 
 
 Liszt refers to him still more explicitly and 
 enthusiastically in " The Gypsies and their Music 
 in Hungary": 
 
 "While the time seems to be near at hand when the national 
 character of the different schools shall disappear and Bohemian 
 music become a thing of the past, I have met with lively satisfaction 
 a young Hungarian, who has retained suflScient individuality and 
 spontaneousness to warrant that he will be written of some day in 
 the same strain as Csermak. Remen)^, although not a Romany, 
 has become imbued with Bohemian feeling and art. I have never 
 heard him without experiencing an emotion which revived the re- 
 collection left by Bihary In spite of the applause with which 
 
 he has invariably been greeted, he appears to be one of the few 
 artists who have a higher object than to make themselves a name by 
 means of which to amass a fortune, and who throughout their life 
 are never done with progress, but keep on steadily toward a superior 
 ideal. ... To reproduce Bohemian art as it ruled in Hungary in its 
 brightest days, something very different from the colorless and com- 
 monplace imitations of the modem artist is needed. Remenyi is 
 gifted with a vivacious, generous disposition which rebels against 
 monotony, and whose originality shows through everything and in 
 spite of everything. This is a token of the vitality of his talent and 
 insures him a special place in the gallery of men who have given new 
 life to a deserved branch of art." 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 17 
 
 This statement shows the interest which was taken 
 about this period in Magyar music, of which Remenyi, 
 not only then, but to the end of his life, was an ar- 
 dent exponent. It has always had an influence 
 upon modem music, and even upon the classical 
 masters, Haydn, Beethoven, Schubert, and others; 
 but it is most conspicuously shown in the music of 
 the Liszt period, notably in that composer's oratorio, 
 " The Legend of Saint Elizabeth," his symphonic 
 poem" Hungaria," and the " Rhapsodies Hongroises" ; 
 the "Hungarian Concerto" of Joachim; and the 
 " Hungarian Dances " arranged by Brahms in a 
 German setting, as well as in other chamber and 
 pianoforte work of this strictly German composer. 
 It can hardly be doubted that the latter's association 
 with Remenyi inspired the " Ungarische Tanze." 
 To be convinced of this it is only necessary to recall 
 the spirited controversy twenty-five years ago, when 
 Brahms was accused of plagiarism by Remenp and 
 his friends, who alleged, not merely that he had pub- 
 lished Magyar folk songs as his own, but had ap- 
 propriated some of Remenyi's own melodies. 
 
 Now Remenyi's " wander years " began. From 
 1854 to i860 he was engaged in concert tours upon 
 the Continent and in England, where he not only 
 gave concerts of his own but played several times 
 in the Philharmonic series. His English career 
 was crowned by the honor of appointment as solo 
 violinist to music-loving Queen Victoria. In i860 
 
i8 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 he was amnestied and returned to Hungary, where 
 he was welcomed most enthusiastically by the peo- 
 ple. His political offences had not been so grave, 
 nor his service in the army, so unpardonable, as to 
 constitute him persona non grata with the Austrian 
 government eleven years after the suppression of the 
 rebellion. On the contrary, the Emperor followed 
 the example of Queen Victoria and appointed him 
 chamber musician and solo violinist in the Court 
 band. He made few public appearances, however, 
 at this time, preferring for some reason to retire to 
 an estate which he owned in Hungary. In 1864 
 we hear of him in Rome ; Liszt writes of his playing 
 there with great success at the Teatro Argentina, 
 and a month or two later he mentions his concerts at 
 Carlsruhe. In 1865 Remenyi emerged once more 
 into the full glare of the musical world and made 
 his first appearance in Paris, where his salon con- 
 certs raised a perfect furore among the French aris- 
 tocracy. Concerts followed in Germany, Belgium, 
 Holland, and other countries, which added greatly to 
 his reputation and gave him a prominent place 
 among virtuosos. In 1869 Liszt speaks of him in 
 Weimar, and in 1870 he was back in London re- 
 peating his former successes. Early in the seven- 
 ties he had an orchestra at Budapest. 
 
 In 1872 he was married to Miss Gisella de Fay 
 de Faj, daughter of a famous Hungarian musician, 
 by whom he had two children, twins, Adrienne and 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 19 
 
 Tibor. His friendship with Liszt at this time was 
 somewhat weakened, though Liszt was at his wed- 
 ding and wrote some special music for the occasion. 
 He was also concertizing with Liszt in 1872 and 
 assisted at his jubilee in Budapest. 
 
 Remenyi's movements were never made by sched- 
 ule. Routine was impossible in his imcertain career. 
 Hence it was never safe to predict where he would 
 be from one season to another. In the latter part 
 of 1873 he made a home tour. In 1874 he was in 
 Egypt, and played to the Arabs on the great Cheops 
 pyramid. In 1875 ^^ was in Paris, playing in the 
 salons and the Pasdeloup concerts. In the Spring of 
 1877 London heard him again, and in the Summer 
 he was back in Paris. In the Summer of 1878 he 
 played in the Riviere concerts, Covent Garden, 
 London. In the Autumn of that year he made his 
 second visit to the United States, giving his first 
 concert at Steinway Hall, New York, November 11. 
 During the next few weeks he played in the New 
 York Philharmonic concerts; in the Brooklyn Phil- 
 harmonic concerts under Theodore Thomas's baton ; 
 in the Carlberg symphony concerts, in Boston, Hart- 
 ford, and, in the latter part of December, in Washing- 
 ton, where he was the guest of President Hayes at the 
 White House. The following year he continued 
 his American tour, playing in New York, Albany, 
 Troy, Buffalo, Cincinnati, Chicago, Quincy, Illinois, 
 Burlington, Iowa, and other cities. In 1880 he went 
 
20 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 as far west as Colorado and greatly enjoyed himself 
 in the mining camps, where he made himself a favorite 
 with the miners by his impromptu performances. 
 
 Then followed another of his mysterious disap- 
 pearances. The next tidings of the wanderer came 
 from Australia, where he had made a new discovery — 
 the brilliant vocalist, Melba. The next year he was 
 in India, and from 1886 to 1890, where was he not? 
 There are records of him in the Sandwich Islands, 
 Japan, China, Cochin China, Tasmania, New 
 Zealand, Burmah, Singapore, Java, Mauritius, the 
 Philippines, Ceylon, Madagascar, South Africa, 
 where he made a fresh discovery — this time, violins, 
 
 — and numerous other remote places. His move- 
 ments were always mysterious. There would be 
 long silences; then would come detailed reports of his 
 death. How many times he was shipwrecked, cap- 
 tured by savages and assassinated ! How many times 
 he vanished from human sight! How many times 
 he was reported deserted and dying in strange 
 countries! Soon, however, he would be announced 
 as playing in some place on the far edge of the world, 
 
 — always happy, always finding something beautiful, 
 always a roamer, always a gypsy. In 1891 his Far 
 Eastern travels were over and he went back to Lon- 
 don. He stayed there a few weeks, and then, after 
 sixteen years of absence, went to Hungary and home, 
 if he can be said to have had a home! 
 
 Remenyi was now sixty-one years of age. He had 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 21 
 
 travelled the world over, had delighted many strange 
 peoples with his playing, had been a favorite every- 
 where, and, notwithstanding his restlessness and 
 eccentricity of habit had made an excellent reputa- 
 tion and occupied a prominent place among violin 
 virtuosos. It would have been better perhaps, had 
 he retired from the stage and been contented to set- 
 tle down in Hungary. But he was not a man to 
 settle down. The Wanderlust was always strong 
 in his nature. Though not a Romany he had the 
 Romany spirit, and to wander about and see beauti- 
 ful things and play his violin was a necessity to him, 
 even now when no one knew better than he that his 
 powers were on the wane and that the spell of his 
 playing was disappearing. 
 
 Remenyi's long career of more than half a century 
 came to its close in this country. In March, 1898, 
 he was in Boston. It was his initial engagement 
 in vaudeville entertainment, but he drew a better 
 class of auditors than is usually to be found in vaude- 
 ville houses, and among them many musicians. He 
 played with much of his old fire and animal spirits, 
 for to the last he played as if he were playing to him- 
 self, who was greatly enjoying it; but to many of his 
 hearers the fineness of his art passed without appre- 
 ciation. 
 
 In the following May he played in San Francisco 
 at the Orpheum Theatre, another vaudeville house, 
 to large and enthusiastic audiences. He was not 
 
22 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 well when he arrived there. On the fifteenth he 
 went to the concert against his physician's advice. 
 His reception was extremely cordial, but it was ap- 
 parent that he was not in his customary good spirits. 
 After playing the " Liberty Hymn " he was recalled 
 and had played a few bars from Delibes' " Piz- 
 zicato" in the "Sylvia" suite, when he suddenly 
 fell forward unconscious and died soon after of apo- 
 plexy. His body was sent to New York. Memorial 
 services were held in the Lenox Lyceum, and he was 
 buried in Evergreen Cemetery, May 29. His long 
 wanderings were over. 
 
 He passed away as he wished, playing his loved 
 instrument. For more than sixty years the violin 
 had been his inseparable companion; and the fa- 
 vorite instrument of his collection, a Stradivarius, 
 always rested in its case upon a leaf of his favorite 
 palms. 
 
 Sir George Grove in his " Dictionary of Music 
 and Musicians " aptly characterizes Remenyi as 
 " the wandering musician par excellence , and at 
 intervals, when the whim takes him, he will disappear 
 from public view altogether. But although some- 
 what of the nature of a comet, he is undoubtedly a 
 star of the first magnitude in his own sphere." The 
 same authority is also correct when he says: " Alto- 
 gether his genius will be most appreciated in 
 the drawing-room, where his marked individuality is 
 felt more immediately than in a big concert hall." 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 23 
 
 A comet in the musical firmament certainly he was ; 
 moving in no regular orbit, his disappearances 
 strange, his coming and going not to be calculated, 
 governed by none of the fixed laws that govern the 
 other stars, subject only to his own vagrant fancies, 
 the Romany of music. He never travelled the 
 beaten tracks laid out by managers. His own fan- 
 cies were his managers, and they were as uncertain 
 as the winds. One month in Parisian salons, the 
 next found him among strange peoples in the Orient. 
 The only certain thing in Remenyi's musical life was 
 that he would not be where he ought to be at a given 
 time, and that he was just where he wished to be. 
 
 It is not easy to describe Remenyi's playing. His 
 technique was so phenomenal that difliculties did not 
 exist for him. His tone was bright, appealing, and 
 penetrating, and its beautiful quality was enhanced 
 by his always superior instruments. He was not 
 a severely correct and intellectual player like Cesar 
 Thompson or Wilhelmj, for instance, both of whom 
 he greatly admired, by way of contrast to his own 
 style, which was emotional, impulsive, passionate, and 
 altogether temperamental; now vigorous and virile, 
 again poetical and dreamy, according to the mood 
 of the moment. He had extravagances at times, as 
 emotional players often do. He had mannerisms 
 also, but they were the mannerisms of his moods, not 
 mannerisms for effect upon the thoughtless, like 
 those of the pianist, De Pachmann, for instance. 
 
24 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 At one moment he would be very serious, and then, 
 as the character of the music changed, he would 
 smile and talk to himself. Probably no one enjoyed 
 Remenyi's playing more than Remenyi himself. He 
 was a worshipper of beauty, a musical poet whose 
 fancies were informed by the Oriental spirit, and who 
 was prone to follow where those fancies led. Hence 
 while the classics were in his repertory — and he 
 played Bach and Beethoven with fine efiect — he was 
 more at home in warmly colored and strongly ac- 
 centuated music. In such works, which, unlike the 
 classics, did not restrain him within limits, and which 
 gave free rein to his fancies, he was at his best. Sir 
 George Grove was right when he said that Remenyi's 
 marked individuality would be felt more imme- 
 diately in a drawing-room than in a big concert hall. 
 He always made himself felt most strongly by his 
 individual appeal. He knew this himself. A friend 
 once said to him: " You can do a thing awfully well 
 when your technique is good; but when you have 
 lived it, you can make your audience do it with you." 
 Remenyi replied: "There is sure to be in every 
 audience at least one heart to which I may talk. 
 That is enough. I fix my eyes upon him. We un- 
 derstand each other; or, I may not see him, but he is 
 there. I feel it. As to the rest, if they do not under- 
 stand, I will make them feel." 
 
 Effective as Remenyi was in a concert room, and 
 powerfully as he could sway an audience by the 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 25 
 
 magic of his bow, he was at his best in private when 
 he was thoroughly in the mood and those present 
 were congenial. I have heard him more than a 
 score of times in concert halls, alone, and with or- 
 chestral accompaniment, but never have I heard him 
 play with such spirit and effect, and, I should add, 
 with such artistic conscientiousness, as one afternoon 
 in 1878 at a friend's house,* when, with Max Vogrich 
 at the piano, he played hour after hour, walking the 
 floor at times and talking softly to himself, or smiling 
 and addressing a pertinent word to some one present. 
 During that memorable afternoon he played selec- 
 tions from the repertory of violin works from the 
 Bach Chaconne down to his favorite czardas, besides 
 one or two extraordinary compositions by Vogrich.f 
 Remenyi was not a voluminous composer. Julius 
 Fuchs, in his valuable " Kritik der Tonwerke," 
 classifies but five of his works, m.. Fantasia, " Les 
 Huguenots," which is dedicated to the Emperor of 
 Germany; " Valse Nobile"; " Introduction and 
 Marche Hongroise "; Fantasia, " Barber of Seville," 
 and " Liberty Hymn." He wrote others, mostly 
 manuscript, among them " Death of Gezirel Has- 
 san," " A Tragedy," " Hungarian Hymn," three 
 
 * Upon this occasion Theodore Thomas, Otto Singer, Julius Fuchs, 
 A. W. Dohn, and Anna Mehlig, the pianist, were present. 
 
 t Max Vogrich, at this time a young man touring with Remenyi, was 
 making a stir in the world with his piano-playing and compositions. 
 Since that time he has written three operas, an oratorio, a mass, ten sym- 
 phonies, several concertos, songs, piano pieces, etc. 
 
26 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 " Morceaux Hongrois," and two violin concertos; 
 and he had planned a series of twelve compositions, 
 illustrating the span of life, which began with a Cas- 
 tilian dance measure. He also wrote several tran- 
 scriptions of the Field nocturnes, and Chopin waltzes 
 and polonaises, an arrangement of a Gregorian chant, 
 as well as transcriptions from Bach's and Schubert's 
 music, some of which were incorporated in a work 
 arranged by him and entitled " Nouvelle Ecole du 
 Violon." He wrote many Hungarian melodies 
 which have been freely appropriated by other com- 
 posers as folk-music. Indeed, if his Hungarian 
 compositions and arrangements could be collected 
 and carefully edited they would prove an important 
 addition to the music of that nationality. It was in 
 transcription that Remenyi chiefly excelled. 
 
 Remenyi's personality was curiously engaging. 
 He was somewhat short of stature and stout of 
 build, though one of the most abstemious of men in 
 his habits.* He had a large, well-shaped head, 
 smooth face, somewhat heavy features, and bright, 
 expressive eyes. He looked more like a well con- 
 ditioned monastery brother than a musician; indeed, 
 he affected none of the physical eccentricities or odd 
 
 * upon one occasion a dinner was given for him at one of the principal 
 hotels in Chicago. His host had arranged a most elaborate menu. The 
 oysters, soup, fish, and wine were declined by him successively to the as- 
 tonishment of the party; when the entrees were reached Remenyi, who had 
 been the life of the occasion, took from his pocket a small bag of crackers, 
 asked the waiter to bring him a glass of milk, and these constituted his 
 dinner. 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 27 
 
 habits sometimes employed by musicians and artists 
 for sensational impression. He was impulsive and 
 spontaneous in manner, and naive and original in his 
 speech, and particularly so in his letters, which are 
 curious for their mixture of slang and polyglot (he 
 was master of several languages), odd spellings and 
 capitalizations, bright flashes of wit, poor puns, and 
 brusqueness and childlikeness of expression. He 
 was generous to a fault, nearly always happy and 
 genial, diplomatic in his social contact, a man of the 
 world and a thorough cosmopolitan. Considering 
 the years he had devoted to travel, his love of pleasure 
 and his wide range of experience in all parts of the 
 world, it is surprising that he preserved such a re- 
 markable freshness of spirit and keenness of enjoy- 
 ment to the last. He was devotedly fond of travel, 
 a close observer of men and nature, and a worshipper 
 of beauty in all its forms. He was a connoisseur in 
 many directions and made valuable collections of 
 pictures, bric-a-brac, and violins. His habits were 
 extremely simple, though he was fond of being among 
 beautiful things and greatly enjoyed a luxurious 
 environment. Undoubtedly had Remenyi devoted 
 himself more closely to study, grounded himself 
 more securely in the classics, and kept his moods in 
 closer subjection, he might have been a greater artist 
 than he was; but it was not possible for a man of his 
 temperament to submit to rules or routine. He was 
 " a comet " in the musical sky, as Sir George Grove 
 
28 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 described him. He was uninfluenced by precedent, 
 careless of traditions, the product of no school, and 
 yet " a star of the first magnitude." 
 
 George P. Upton. 
 
 The following data concerning Remenyi's life in 
 Hungary were supplied by the Royal Hungarian 
 Academy of Music, and forwarded to Miss Kelley 
 by Hon. Frank Dyer-Chester, United States Con- 
 sul at Budapest, in 1903: 
 
 His childhood years were spent in the city of Miskolcz, north- 
 east of Budapest. His brother Anthony was an attorney, and his 
 cousin, Edward R., jr., was a professor in the Upper Gymnasium, 
 both of Budapest. 
 
 His first appearance in Pesth was at the end of the forties. 
 
 He took part in the War for Independence (1848-49) as Gor- 
 gey's camp vioKnist. 
 
 He was associated with the Hungarian exiles in London in the 
 fifties, chiefly with Imre Szekely, the pianist. 
 
 He settled down in Pesth in i860 and gave concerts both there 
 and in the country. 
 
 In the National Theatre in Budapest, contrary to the orders 
 of the police, he played the " Racokzy March, " and in the same 
 building he eulogized Cornelia BoUosy in 1863, in a stage-speech. 
 
 The fund for the statues of Petofi and Dugonies was created 
 with the help of his concerts. 
 
 At Budapest, in connection with Liszt and Joachim, he gave 
 concerts; and first fell out and afterwards made up with Mosonyi, 
 Bartalus, and other editors of the " Zeneszeti Lapok " ( Musical 
 Leaves ). 
 
 He acted as orchestra-director at the National Theatre in the 
 seventies. Differences took place between him and the orchestra, 
 
BIOGRAPHICAL SKETCH 29 
 
 as well as with Francis Erkel and the government's representative, 
 the intendant, Baron Felix Orczy. 
 
 His friendship with Liszt weakened. 
 
 He took part in the Liszt jubilee at Budapest in 1873, and 
 acted as intermediary with Count Andrassy toward the calling of 
 Liszt to the Royal Hungarian National Academy of Music. 
 
 He departed from Budapest. 
 
 He returned home after sixteen years of absence, in 1891, and 
 made a tour through the country. 
 
 His compositions and Italian letters are published in the ** Zeneszeti 
 Lapok." 
 
 He married the daughter of Anthony Faj, the noted pianist and 
 composer, and on the occasion of his wedding Liszt composed a 
 special march. 
 
 His accompanist was now Alexander Plotanyi, the accomplished 
 pianist. 
 
II 
 
 MASTER AND MAN 
 
 IN memory of the master who has laid his magical 
 bow for ever aside, but whose music is not dead, 
 I may perhaps explain that during the last few years 
 of his life it was my good fortune to be acquainted 
 intimately with Remenyi, not only as the wonderful 
 violinist, the companion of the greatest musicians 
 and writers and artists of his period, but as a personal 
 friend, and that I thus became familiar with the 
 traits of this strongly marked character, which was 
 as unique as it was gifted. 
 
 His artistic execution and his profound knowledge 
 of the subtlest secrets of his Stradivarius were, as his 
 wife expressed it, perhaps " the smallest part of Re- 
 menyi," for his mind w£ts one of the quickest and 
 most brilliant I have ever known. While he may 
 not have had the peculiar mental ability which fits a 
 man to take a successful part in the strenuous business 
 life of this twentieth century, his thought had re- 
 markable keenness and rapidity. His powers of 
 observation were extraordinary, and his memory was 
 retentive of the minutest details. His stores of wit 
 and anecdote were unlimited, and his knowledge of 
 
 30 
 
MASTER AND MAN 31 
 
 history and painting was so extensive that his own pri- 
 vate collection of art works was that of a connoisseur. 
 His familiarity with the literature of the book world 
 equalled his familiarity with what he termed " the 
 literature of the violin," for which he did so much 
 and which it was ever his aim to elevate and increase. 
 With all this was blended the strange musical tem- 
 perament of the virtuoso, ranging the whole gamut 
 from exalted enthusiasm and altruism to pathetic 
 sadness, combined with the simplicity of a child. 
 This human power, which carries with it that intangi- 
 ble promise and conviction of what the Italians call 
 simpatica was Remenyi's. He held the key to this 
 mystery, and it was not alone his bow that stirred the 
 minds and hearts of those who felt his magnetism. 
 His art was a form of prayer, and often he would play, 
 as in a meditation religieuse, both touchingly and up- 
 liftingly, music that appealed to the listener's soul. 
 
 Though a patriot, he was also a cosmopolite. He 
 observed and absorbed everything beautiful. His 
 vigor was stimulating to those who, like " ships that 
 pass in the night," even casually met him, and when 
 he had gone there seemed an emptiness, where his 
 vitalizing personality had been. Once, when Remen- 
 yi had been charming us by his conversation and im- 
 promptu music, he brought forth a rare Hungarian 
 root, orveny gyokir, and, asking for some glowing 
 embers, placed the spicy root among them, filling 
 the rooms with faint wreaths of bluish smoke, and 
 
32 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 diffusing an intoxicating, delicate fragrance, more 
 subtle than incense, which, combined with the sob- 
 bing music of his violin, fairly enthralled the senses. 
 Remenyi was gone, but the room seemed still to hold 
 in its very emptiness something of the magical, 
 weird scherzo, and of the unique personality he had 
 lived into it, and the scent of his Hungarian root lin- 
 gered, as the shadow of his music. 
 
 " All must be in harmony in this Grecian house," 
 he had said. " Where architecture is represented 
 in these beautiful pillars as well as in art and litera- 
 ture, you must also have an aesthetic incense — an 
 atmosphere. I will give you the root." Then, to 
 hold this root, he gave me a low bronze tripod vase 
 presented to him at the Chinese court, the imperial 
 stamp of the Ming dynasty upon it, with the lost 
 glaze of that apogee of Oriental art. 
 
 Such was Remenyi as I knew him in my home. 
 Such also was he in his own house; while his mag- 
 netism charmed every member, he found time also 
 to look after their individual interests and tastes. His 
 hand was ever outstretched to promote the projects 
 or hopes of " the least of these." Nor was his benevo- 
 lence confined to his inner circle. In many remote 
 towns and villages, his musical genius and the power 
 of his personality left their impress, as he brought 
 light, advice, and help to the struggling. He had 
 always time to listen. His interest in humanity was 
 so vividly real that the voung found ever a friend 
 
MASTER AND MAN 33 
 
 in him. His manner toward them was so imostenta- 
 tious and genuine that they soon found all embarrass- 
 ment melting away beneath the sunlight of his humor 
 and verve; and at last, absorbed by his interesting 
 conversation, their lips too became unsealed. Yet 
 this was the great player, whose travels had taken 
 him many times to the remotest comers of the globe, 
 the man whose friends were legion, from Liszt and 
 Victor Hugo (with whom Remenyi lived for years 
 in Paris) and from the courts of Europe and the 
 Orient, down to the humblest villagers. Such was 
 the man whose love of his native Hungary was so 
 exalted and so influential that the Austrian govern- 
 ment was at one time on the point of setting a price 
 upon his head. 
 
 Remenyi's optimism was tremendous, his love of 
 men intense, his admiration for women profound. 
 Truly he gave lavishly of his stores, not only by his 
 rarely brilliant conversational powers, but by his 
 extensive correspondence. His letters, written as 
 the mood seized him, were varied in the extreme; 
 some were witty, quaint, full of legends, notes on his 
 travels and concerts, and were spontaneously origi- 
 nal. But master-brains are the most effervescent and 
 sparkling in play-time ! In contrast with these were 
 others, serious or poetic, in which he spoke of setting 
 down stray ideas " as they came to him." He bade 
 me keep them, as he intended using them as the 
 " skeleton,'' so he called it, of the book it was in his 
 
34 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 mind " some day '' to write, on Music, Art, Nature, 
 etc., as he viewed them. Alas, that *' some day '' 
 never came; the book never was written; for Re- 
 menyi dropped dead in San Francisco, at the time of 
 the Spanish War, while he was playing an encore to the 
 song of our country for an immense and enthusiastic 
 audience; and so the "skeleton '' of the work which 
 was to have been remained in my library, where, in 
 rearranging the letters and looking at his photo- 
 graph, his intention was recalled to my mind. No 
 collection of fragments can approach what his own 
 completed work would have been; yet, knowing his 
 intention, I thought that, rather than lock these let- 
 ters and papers away from the thousands who have 
 been swayed by his music and personality, I would 
 attempt to weave the mosaic bits together. The re- 
 sult, such as it is, I can only bring as a tribute to the 
 memory of my friend. 
 
 Delightful as Remenyi was in his graciousness 
 when upon the concert-stage, it was even more 
 charming to hear him when, taking out his rare vio- 
 lin, he would awaken the echoes in an all but empty 
 room. Sometimes he would happen in informally 
 and, after visiting a little while, would play by the 
 hour — his Stradivarius seeming transformed into 
 a complete orchestra, as it pealed out in the stillness 
 of the place, thrilling one with vivid tone-pictures 
 of his land and rhapsodies of his own com- 
 position, their motifs sometimes allegro, conveying 
 
MASTER AND MAN 35 
 
 the impression at times of a bit of Grieg, with close 
 harmony and light in all, marvellous in execution, 
 but with a certain original spirit and fine shading. 
 How well I remember him at such times, as he 
 would lean against the arm of a chair, the dim light 
 bringing out all the strength of his rugged features, 
 so that each phrase of the musical conception he was 
 rendering seemed reflected in his fast-changing ex- 
 pressions ! His eyes would look into space, although 
 his instrument seemed verily alive beneath the light- 
 ning play of his fingers. Again his foot marked 
 the measure, as the concourse of tone mounted 
 from depths of pathetic harmony or simple aria, in 
 ever-varying crescendos, up toward the climax of 
 the glorious finale, his weird fire-tone thrilling be- 
 neath his brilliant technique until, with a circular 
 sweep of his bow, he would end with unequalled 
 brilliancy. The air seemed fairly quivering as he 
 ceased, as if his Stradivarius, a living thing, were 
 pulsing under its master's touch. He often rose and, 
 with dreamy eyes, would wander from room to room, 
 returning slowly. When the last tones had died 
 away he would give a short sigh; then, covering his 
 instrument in its silken wrappings with tender touch, 
 he would place it with extreme precision and care 
 upon the palm leaves in its soft-lined case. His 
 watchfulness over his beloved Stradivarius was strik- 
 ing. He usually had with him two violins, deeply 
 toned with age, the lost lustre of Cremona. But his 
 
36 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 care of one of these was especially jealous; he sel- 
 dom allowed it to be handled by others, and gener- 
 ally carried it, during his travels, with his own hand. 
 Its secrets he held in his heart, and at the soft but 
 firm touch of his powerful fingers its highest notes 
 would unfold and grow bell-like in clearness, yet 
 velvety with ineffable sweetness that could fade 
 away into scarcely more than the faint breath of a 
 zephyr. 
 
 When playing, as on all other occasions, Remenyi 
 was absolutely without self-consciousness. In pub- 
 lic he was generous with his encores and gracious in 
 his appreciation and acknowledgments. He was not 
 a tall man, but he maintained a certain dignity all his 
 own. His highly strung temperament, however, 
 showed itself in the quickness of his movements and 
 in the rapid flash of that kindly smile which often 
 curiously lit up his face. At times I have seen him 
 hold thousands spellbound. The same marvellous 
 power was realized in those early days when Remenyi 
 stirred the patriots of Hungary, his music his medium 
 and his burning convictions his inspiration. In mid- 
 dle life his genius brought him close to many of the 
 most celebrated figures of his period; in later years 
 it held his place warm in the hearts of the people, 
 albeit at times his own head was bowed by the weight 
 of responsibilities and cares. But these never wholly 
 obscured the snushine of his nature. 
 
 Remenyi's wit and sense of humor never failed 
 
MASTER AND MAN 37 
 
 him. He was easily amused and pleased, and his 
 appreciation was freely expressed. While impatient 
 of poseurs and bores, he was always keen to divine 
 and to point out the good in others and ever ready 
 with encouragement. He loved a good story, and he 
 often made himself the butt of his own, by ridiculing 
 his ovm peculiarities. At the same time he had a 
 craze for beauty in whatever form he found it. He 
 reverenced Nature, and had long been a student of 
 her secrets. He admired and gloried in whatever 
 was fine in men and women, and was singularly ten- 
 der with children. His cult of the beautiful was 
 surpassed only by his pride and enthusiasm for art in 
 its broadest sense. His motto might well have been: 
 "Outward, not inward; forward, not backward"; 
 yet often his mood, ever changing, was one of medita- 
 tion and introspection. 
 
 Remenyi was his own most rigid taskmaster. He 
 abhorred the phlegmatic and was impatient of lazi- 
 ness. Many a time in afternoon or evening, he would 
 exultingly count the length of the hours of his soli- 
 tary practising, striking his arm with pride, pointing 
 to its muscle and saying, " It is of iron, and my fin- 
 gers — !" Then, descending from his work, he 
 would take up the interests and conversation of his 
 family or friends, bandying jokes, telling stories, and 
 making himself the life of the party. 
 
 His attitude toward his wife was one of striking 
 tenderness, and often demonstrative (for during her 
 
38 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 later life she was an invalid), and his pride in her 
 unusual attainments was as apparent as was his con- 
 cern in his children's affairs. Madame Remenyi was 
 a lady of noble family, whose abilities were beyond 
 the ordinary, and in her nature there was a marked 
 serenity, absorbed though she was in her husband, 
 whose counsellor and most appreciative friend she 
 ever wag. In talking with Madame Remenyi no one 
 could well mistake the nobility of her thought. " She 
 has the patience of a saint," Remenyi would often 
 say, hovering near her and distressed when he found 
 her not so well as usual. His professional tours of 
 necessity took him much away from her, but he wrote 
 so easily and so often that she could follow him in 
 this way, and his returns home were joyous events. 
 No matter what the circumstances were, Remenyi 
 always burst in, embracing each member of his 
 family in his exuberant overflow of spirits, and im- 
 parting his spontaneous bonhomie and sunshine to 
 one and all. His interest in his two children was 
 deep, especially in the vocal ability of his daughter 
 Adrienne and the studies pursued by his son Tibor. 
 While he enjoyed the society of friends and acquaint- 
 ances, Remenyi was also fond of his home, and in it 
 were many rare relics of his long travels, such as 
 souvenirs, vases, etc., given him at the Chinese court, 
 and elsewhere. Wherever Remenyi went he was the 
 central figure; whether amid the Bohemianism of a 
 Hungarian restaurant, where he would take out his 
 
EDOUARD REMENYI 
 ( From a portrait taken in 1882 ) 
 
MASTER AND MAN 39 
 
 violin and play his native airs, or amid the pomp and 
 festivity of a state dinner at the palace. He was at 
 his ease, whatever his surroundings, at home or 
 abroad. 
 
 With such remarkable powers of observation and 
 memory his wide travels had greatly enhanced his 
 love of people, making of him a fascinating conver- 
 sationalist, one whose brain never seemed to weary or 
 whose fund of knowledge to be diminished ; yet con- 
 centration was one of his chief endowments. He 
 could become oblivious of those about him while 
 writing a letter, or lose himself in his music. 
 
 GV^NDOLYN DUNLEVY KeLLEY. 
 
m 
 
 LIFE SKETCH OF REMENYI 
 
 I FIRST saw my husband in 1848. I was then 
 but a little girl twelve years of age. He came into 
 my father's house at Miskolcz with a big slouch hat 
 on his head and followed by a throng of young men. 
 My sister and I were not allowed then to see or 
 speak to him, being little girls, but I managed to 
 get glimpses of him. He stayed forty-five days at 
 the house. I did not see him again until i860, when 
 he came back from his exile after the amnesty. He 
 then made a triumphal tour of Hungary. To my 
 knowledge he gave at that time one hundred thou- 
 sand florins (forty thousand dollars) of his earnings 
 toward defraying some of the expenses of the statue 
 of Petofi in Budapest and donations to the Conserva- 
 tory of Music. 
 
 After that I saw him from time to time until 
 December, 1871, when I became engaged to him, 
 and we were married February 10, 1872. 
 
 Only those who knew Remenyi well understood 
 his true character, so beautiful, so poetic, so naive. 
 I consider that the violm was but the medium of 
 expression for his overflowing artistic sensations, 
 
 40 
 
LIFE SKETCH OF REMENYI 41 
 
 albeit he was such a master of technique. My hus- 
 band was in no way conceited, nor jealous. He 
 was childlike at heart, and it was because of this that 
 he was so great. I have never known a nature imbued 
 to such a degree with the beautiful in all its mani- 
 festations. His was one of those very rare natures 
 wherein the finer qualities completely overshadow 
 small weaknesses. What a profoundly artistic na- 
 ture was Remenyi's! What power he had to per- 
 ceive the beautiful in all its forms ! It seemed given 
 to him to see much more of the beautiful than to us 
 ordinary mortals. These attributes were not first 
 developed in his years of maturity. He exhibited 
 them in a very high degree when a child of seven 
 years. His parents owned a bust of Napoleon, the 
 plaster of which, gaudy with gilding, shocked the 
 eyes of the little boy, who in his dreams seems to 
 have acquired by intuition that quick discernment 
 of beauty possessed by the Greeks. In brief, he 
 could not endure the sight of this abortion. So, 
 being too little to reach it, he cHmbed upon a ladder 
 and, armed with a long stick, smashed the unlucky 
 bust to pieces. At Eger, the seat of an archbishop, 
 where he spent the years of his early youth, there is 
 a pompous cathedral, built at the beginning of the 
 last century, which is frightful in style and reminds 
 one of those frosted cakes seen now and then in the 
 show-window of some patissier in one of the streets 
 of old Paris. Opposite, there stands a magnificent 
 
42 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 lyceum, a building of the time of Marie Th^rese, 
 which, however, no one ever seemed to notice, be- 
 cause of its old gray masonry and its air avoue. Here 
 the little Remenyi used to stand by the hour, con- 
 templating in ecstasy this structure which to him 
 seemed very, very beautiful. 
 
 The aesthetic sense was, very happily for him, 
 extraordinarily developed by the great man whom 
 he had the extreme luck to meet as soon as he had 
 left the Conservatory. Acquaintance with this man's 
 noble patriotic aspirations, philanthropic spirit, and 
 literary genius left an ineffaceable imprint upon the 
 soul of the young musician, causing him to cherish 
 things of intangible beauty. Later, when he came 
 to know the great poets and writers and artists 
 intimately this adoration of the beautiful was intensi- 
 fied, until at last it became the dominant passion of 
 his life. What a joy it was for him to read wonder- 
 ful pages, and to see the creations which the great 
 painters and sculptors have given us ! What ecstasy 
 to hear fine music, and what satisfaction to meet 
 those who by their execution were worthy to be called 
 artists and musicians! 
 
 Some have said that Remenyi was jealous at times 
 and unwilling to recognize the worth of his brother 
 musicians. Mon Dieu, what an error! No one was 
 ever happier than he when occasionally good fortune 
 offered him the enjoyment (regal) of hearing a per- 
 fect musician who at the same time had command 
 
LIFE SKETCH OF REMENYI 43 
 
 of technique. " Transcendant technique," he called 
 it when the individuaHty of the performer was visible 
 but the difficulties had become invisible, when the 
 severest passages were performed with as much ease 
 as if to render them were the most natural thing in 
 the world. He was exacting, and one might well be 
 so who had made so much music with Liszt, Biilow, 
 and others. He required much, but when he heard 
 something fine or beautiful, then his enthusiasm had 
 no limits. I recall his coming home one evening in 
 ecstasy after hearing an unknown individual play the 
 violin admirably, and he could not be reconciled to 
 the knowledge that that person was only a member of 
 a small orchestra. Remenyi never had patience with 
 a reputation manufactured by advertisement, but 
 all that was good and characteristic delighted him. 
 After having heard C^sar Thompson he wept for joy 
 at having heard the violin played with such mastery. 
 As he was more than sixty years old at that time, the 
 structure of his hands would not allow him to work 
 out this line of his technique to correspond with his 
 other abilities. However, after two years of study 
 he surprised us by playing to us a composition, 
 "Chant de TOrage" (Song of the Storm), which 
 was embellished throughout with pyrotechnics. In 
 June, 1890, when Remenyi was in London, after 
 twelve years passed far from Europe, he went to a 
 concert given by Sarasate. He was in such trans- 
 ports of pleasure over his beautiful and silvery 
 
44 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 playing, that he hurried to a florist and bought a bas- 
 ket of the most lovely flowers, which he sent immedi- 
 ately to the Spanish maestro. A Parisian artist, M. Von 
 Waffelghem, told me that Sarasate was extremely 
 touched by this offering on the part of a confrere, and 
 candidly acknowledged that he never had had a 
 similar tribute rendered him. And so it was that 
 everything beautiful, great, or lofty, whether it were 
 poetry, prose, painting, sculpture, science, patriotism, 
 humanity, or philanthropy, woke a vibrating echo in 
 his soul, which seemed to have been created for noble 
 and beautiful sensations. How great, too, was his 
 patriotism! Despite his long absence from his 
 native land, he always swore by it with the same 
 love, and ever expressed the most ardent wishes for 
 its prosperity. America, however, had become nearly 
 as dear to him, so great was his admiration for its 
 marvellous growth in the sciences and for its natural 
 resources. 
 
 My husband took up the violin at the age of seven 
 years, at Eger. At nine. Archbishop Pyrker, a well- 
 known writer of poems and dramas on religious sub- 
 jects, sent him to the Conservatory at Vienna. The 
 professor at Eger said that he would never learn to 
 play the violin. Happily, however, he completely 
 succeeded, for within three months he won the first 
 prize at the Conservatory. His teacher was the 
 famous Bohm, the instructor of Joachim, Laube, and 
 others. After leaving the Conservatory he went to 
 
LIFE SKETCH OF REMENYI 45 
 
 Paris, but had no teacher. He attended all the con- 
 certs, visited the museums, read fine literature, and, 
 in short, secured a thorough artistic education. 
 
 Remenyi abandoned all this, however, during 1848, 
 and enrolled himself as honved. General Klapka 
 has told me how Remenyi's mother confided him to 
 his charge, and of the bravery of my husband. Some- 
 time after the surrender at Vil^gos he went into Ger- 
 many, and it was there that he became acquainted 
 with Liszt, who appreciated him highly and took 
 him into his home, where he. remained eighteen 
 months. It was there that my husband learned the 
 most, as it was an atmosphere where all that was 
 great and beautiful was admired. 
 
 Remenyi knew all the famous men of his time. 
 In Hungary all our prominent statesmen loved him 
 greatly. Our famous Lzechenip was one of his pa- 
 trons. In France also he knew the great authors of 
 his time, being especially intimate with Theophile 
 Gautier, Les Goncourts, Flaubert, George Sand, 
 and Victor Hugo, with whom he stayed from six to 
 nine months. I wish to mention an incident which 
 illustrates the correct musical sense of Victor Hugo, 
 and shows that he discriminated well in what he 
 heard without being an avowed musician. He used to 
 say to my husband that he could not sympathize in 
 the least with Mendelssohn's music; that he did not 
 like it at all, but that he adored Schumann, Schubert, 
 and Chopin. My husband, however, believed that 
 
46 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 this was mere talk and that the master really knew 
 nothing about it. So to put it to the test, he said to 
 him: " See here, master, I am going to play you 
 something from Schumann which you have never 
 heard," and he played him an almost unknown 
 selection from Mendelssohn. Victor Hugo listened 
 to it, then rubbing his Olympian head, said: " Voila 
 que Schumann baissel This composition is by no 
 means up to the level of the other things of his with 
 which I am acquainted." He evidently felt, even if 
 he could not understand and analyze, that this music 
 was not in Schumann's vein. 
 
 In thinking of the literary style of my husband I 
 never could quite account for his prolific use of super- 
 latives, but now the explanation has come to me. 
 Where emotions were concerned he was like a 
 sixteen-year-old boy, who gives vent to all his 
 impressions without repressing them. At sixty-eight 
 my husband was equally young and equally moved by 
 the sacred fire of enthusiasm. Poor man! 
 
 Exiled and unable to enter Hungary, Remenyi 
 went to London and there, without being known, in 
 a competition of two hundred and eighty players, he 
 obtained the position of first violinist to the Queen. 
 In i860 he received amnesty, and in January he re- 
 turned to Hungary. He was welcomed back with 
 such an ovation as is rarely seen. He made many 
 journeys through Germany, Holland, and Russia 
 prior to our marriage, and afterwards was in Egypt, 
 
LIFE SKETCH OF REMENYI 47 
 
 Germany, Russia, France, and England, and finally 
 undertook his trip around the world. 
 
 The places which he best loved, climatically and 
 for their beauty, were Java, California, and Naples. 
 I am, therefore, so glad that during his last days he 
 should have been among his dearly loved palms. 
 
 Madame Remenyi.* 
 
 * Madame RemenyVs maiden name was Gisella de Fay de Faj. Her 
 father, Anton de Fay de Faj, was a musician of some talent, of whom 
 Liszt once said, " // old M. de Faj would only learn the rules of com- 
 position, Wagner and I would as well keep perfectly silent." 
 
IV 
 
 REMINISCENCES OF REMENYI 
 
 FOR many years Remenyi was my guest when he 
 visited San Francisco. It is needless for me 
 to say that I was always rewarded by the associa- 
 tion. He was a genial, whole-souled gentleman. 
 Having travelled all over the world, he was full of 
 good stories, and with his rare fund of humor, aside 
 from the individuality which stamped his narratives, 
 he always held sway when imparting his experiences. 
 He looked on the bright side of things, and usually 
 saw them from a humorous standpoint. He was as 
 youthful as a boy. He loved a joke as well as a pun, 
 in fact, punning was quite a habit with him. He 
 spoke many languages but could pun only in Eng- 
 lish, which he deplored as a great loss to his foreign 
 friends. He was happy in relating a pun he had 
 indulged in regarding his friend, the late Colonel 
 Robert G. IngersoU. 
 
 " When you depart from this earth, Colonel," 
 said Remenyi, " you will want to be the same in the 
 other world that you are here." 
 
 " Oh, I don't know," said IngersoU. " Why do 
 you think so ? ' ' 
 
 48 
 
REMINISCENCES OF REMENYI 49 
 
 " Because here you are a nice man, and when you 
 strike a warmer region you will still want to be an 
 ice man." 
 
 Remenyi was very fond of President McKinley, 
 with whom he was on social terms, and whom he 
 visited at the White House when in Washington. 
 Upon one such occasion the President remarked 
 that they were in the Cabinet Room. Remenp 
 looked around and said : 
 
 " You know, Mr. President, your Cabinet is incom- 
 plete and will always remain so until you add a fid- 
 dler to your body." 
 
 " Well," said the President, smilingly, " why this 
 addition ? " 
 
 " Because, first, I could always produce harmony 
 when you became inharmonious. If you found the 
 country financially depressed, I could make notes to 
 relieve you. I could always come to the scratch. 
 In fact, I could work the time to suit, and pull the 
 strings any way it became necessary." 
 
 The President laughed, slapped Remenyi on the 
 back, and said: " You will be quite an acquisition; 
 when Congress meets again, we will have the addition 
 authorized, and you will be recommended for the 
 place." 
 
 Remenyi often laughed at some of his critics who 
 accused him of indulging in tricks on the violin. He 
 said: " Quite the reverse is the fact; the violin does 
 tricks on me. But I presume my critics know little 
 
50 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 of the violin and much of tricks; and many a poor 
 scribe is sent to act as critic about art and music, con- 
 cerning which he has only a surface knowledge." 
 
 Remenyi in his time had been a collector of rare 
 oil-paintings; he was a judge of good work, and his 
 opinion on a painting was valuable. Upon one oc- 
 casion I accompanied him to see some pictures done 
 by an artist who, by reason of his intemperance, had 
 lost his position in the art world. He had about a 
 dozen, which he placed with an art-dealer, and, 
 wanting money at once, left word with him to sell 
 them at any price. They were landscapes and 
 scenes in California, and the moment Remenyi 
 saw them he proclaimed them the work of a good 
 artist. He requested me to inquire the price. I was 
 told we could have our choice at fifteen dollars each. 
 Remenyi said that he must have made a mistake, and 
 directed me to inquire again. The price was con- 
 firmed. He said: "We take them all." The 
 dealer requested to know where he should send 
 them. Remenyi was very nervous and answered 
 that he need not send them; that he would take them 
 away himself. He turned to me and said: " I am 
 going to impose a hardship on you, but this is a test 
 of your affection for me. We must carry these pic- 
 tures away ourselves." I said, "Why?" He an- 
 s\^ered: " I think in the first place the man will 
 change his mind on account of the price; and, second, 
 I could not in justice to my feelings take a chance and 
 
REMINISCENCES OF REMENYI 51 
 
 leave them behind me." So we started through the 
 streets with them, he almost on a run. Many per- 
 sons recognized us and turned and looked after us. 
 
 The distance to the hotel, of course, was not far, 
 but when we arrived at our apartments he placed the 
 paintings about the room and danced around in 
 admiration over the bargain he had made. While 
 in the midst of his glee, a knock on the door caused 
 him to lose color; he was pale as a ghost. He put 
 his finger on his mouth is if to direct silence. When 
 the knock became stronger he remarked : " I knew 
 it; they have discovered they have made a mistake 
 and come for them; but we have paid for them and 
 have the receipt. A bargain is a bargain." Then 
 again the knock was repeated. He nervously opened 
 the door, and in front of him stood a bell-boy with 
 a card from his piano accompanist. Remenyi was 
 much relieved, handed the boy a tip, and said, 
 " Tell him to come up." 
 
 In speaking of famous violinists and those who at- 
 tempt the mastery of the violin, Remenyi said: " To 
 speak of a person as a master of the violin is to assert 
 that which has never yet been achieved. Hun- 
 dreds of thousands fiddle, thousands play at the vio- 
 lin, and thousands play on the violin, a few thousand 
 perform well, and a few hundred play very well. The 
 great artists who achieve fame and are world- 
 renowned number less than fifty, while those who are 
 credited with being great virtuosos, you can count 
 
52 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 on one hand; and, as to its master, he has never 
 been born. So you begin with miUions and come 
 down to nothing, leaving the violin unconquered.'* 
 
 Remenyi was a genial, whole-souled being. He 
 was always kindness itself, but while he was ex- 
 tremely sociable, he gave his intimate confidence to 
 few. He remarked one day laughingly: " I will tell 
 you in strictest confidence that while my admirers 
 and the world at large credit me with being a great 
 performer on the violin, I am but a novice. I realize 
 this the more I practise and the older I grow. If I 
 do not practise to-day, to-morrow I know it; if I do 
 not practise to-morrow, any good artist can observe 
 it; and if I do not practise on the following day, then 
 the whole world knows it, that is, if I attempt to play. 
 I am a slave to my art, and this small combination of 
 wood and strings is my master. But I am happy only 
 when endeavoring to understand it, and my joy is 
 increased when I know that I have pleased a great 
 artist." 
 
 It happened that he and Isaye were sojourning in 
 San Francisco at the same time. Isaye was very fond 
 of Remenyi and very enthusiastic over certain pieces 
 that he played ; and while enjoying a social afternoon 
 together in my rooms at the Baldwin Hotel, Isaye 
 induced him to play a Hungarian rhapsody and a 
 Russian czardas. Remenyi played with tremendous 
 intensity; he was on his mettle, and anxious to im- 
 press Isaye with a heroic interpretation of the piece 
 
REMINISCENCES OF REMENYI 53 
 
 he performed. It was interesting to watch the player 
 and the listener. As Remenyi proceeded, Isaye be- 
 came excited, and the more Remenyi played the more 
 Isaye abandoned himself to his feelings. He played 
 for fifteen minutes. The whole air was charged 
 with his fantastic music. Isaye was greatly excited, 
 and when the little old man laid down his violin he 
 took him in his embrace and kissed him on each 
 cheek, shouting, " Charmant! Magnifique! Bravo! 
 Bravo!'' It was a rare sight — Isaye, the world- 
 accepted virtuoso of his time, lovingly and affection- 
 ately embracing his friend and proclaiming that no 
 man alive could play that class of music like him. 
 Tears trickled down Remenyi's cheek; he was as 
 happy as a king; he said criticism from such a 
 source was worth all his life's labor. 
 
 Remenyi, surprised at the lack of interest shown 
 by the American government in national music, said : 
 " As Americans, we are very poor in sentiment. 
 What are we doing to progress and master the higher 
 arts? Nothing. It's all money, money. We are 
 money-mad. We rush into Wall Street rich, and 
 then we rush out poor. If you stopped one of these 
 genuine Americans and asked him to listen to the 
 absolute necessity for a national conservatory of 
 music, he would push you aside as though you were 
 foolish. The day will come when American love of 
 art in all its forms will be demonstrated, and our 
 government will wake up from its Rip Van Winkleism 
 
54 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 and promote the interests of a music-loving people. 
 The great men at the head of this government should 
 understand that one of the surest ways of instilling 
 patriotism in the rising generation is to symbolize 
 the country's history by and through the hand of the 
 artist and the painter and the sculptor, or by its music 
 that bespeaks the sentiment and the grandeur of 
 millions of people, and their life in peace and war. 
 Why should we be compelled to look upon scenes of 
 foreign lands as portrayed by the foreign artist? 
 Why not American scenes by American artists ? My 
 friends say, ' Ah, it is a fad to purchase European 
 art.' Let national pride, then, overcome the fad. 
 You Americans have the grandest land in all the 
 world; but you don't do it or yourselves justice. 
 Never mind what is said about the great masters all 
 residing in Europe. Pay them something — for in 
 Europe they get little, and I am sure they will come. 
 The thing is to have the government establish and 
 maintain national conservatories of music and art. 
 Have an authorized conservatory the same as they 
 have in Europe, and you will attract Europe's best 
 masters and teachers. They would be happy to 
 come; only give them the opportunity. Once this 
 country takes hold, in the right way, America will 
 become the greatest musical centre of the world. As 
 things are now, you can't blame parents for sending 
 their children abroad for music; and yet it grieves 
 
REMINISCENCES OF REMENYI 55 
 
 me to see this done. I know the environment 
 awaiting the Americans." 
 
 Remenyi once attended the synagogue to hear the 
 playing of " Kol-Nedra," on the eve of the Day of 
 Atonement. It was a violin solo with orchestral and 
 pipe-organ accompaniment. During the perform- 
 ance he turned his eyes upward and tears streamed 
 down his cheeks. I afterwards remarked to him 
 that he seemed affected. 
 
 He said : " Oh, yes. No man can run away from 
 his blood or his true creed. The cruel suffering of 
 the Jews is piteously told in their music, and I am 
 carried back to my mother's knees when I hear it." 
 
 I said: " You talk as though you were a Jew; 
 are you ?" 
 
 He answered: " The man who would deny him- 
 self is a coward. My practices and professions have 
 been such as to please a good wife, yes, and to aid 
 the ambitions of my youth. I was once the Queen 
 of England's violin soloist. I have stood in many 
 high places and before great men. I yielded much 
 to wear around my neck a rosary that gave credence 
 when doubt was aroused. I did this because I was 
 raised in a land where I witnessed a prejudice that 
 was almost incredible, and I knew it would make 
 life's battle harder. I once asked an old bishop why 
 the Jews were disliked, and the bishop said : ' Be- 
 cause unless we keep them at a certain disadvantage 
 
56 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 they would proselyte us to their religion. The Jew's 
 one God doctrine is very simple; he has kept him- 
 self strong and unconquered by remaining stead- 
 fast in his belief. You see he takes the position that 
 he is correct even if he concedes that Christ was the 
 Messiah, for if Christ is after all God, the Jew wor- 
 ships Him, or whoever may be God; so he is sure of 
 his position that he worships God, while if we are 
 mistaken in our belief regarding the Trinity, our mis- 
 take is grievous. The Jew has his faults, but he 
 has also his virtues; and while we persist in trying to 
 impute evil to all he does, yet time overcomes all our 
 acts against him. Can it be the force of truth that 
 always finds its way to the surface? It must be 
 this, for I find that nothing, not even of the material 
 advantages that life offers, shakes the Jew from his 
 faith.' " 
 
 The visit to the synagogue with Remenyi and all 
 that occurred impressed me deeply, and when he 
 died, I knew then he was a Jew. 
 
 Henry J. Kowalsky. 
 
ACQUAINTANCE AND FRIENDSHIP WITH 
 REMENYI 
 
 WHEN it was advertised in the Autumn of 
 1882 that the renowned violinist, Edouard 
 Remenyi, was to give a concert in Columbus, Ohio, 
 all music-lovers anticipated a treat, but only those 
 of us who had heard him before knew how great a 
 one. There was a surprise for his audience, that 
 of hearing what wondrous tones the master could 
 draw from a brand-new violin, made in Columbus by 
 a man named Hesketh; for me there was the be- 
 ginning of a personal acquaintance which endured 
 until the maestro's death. 
 
 A young friend who had made one of our party in 
 Europe a few years before had become a journalist, 
 and in that capacity it was his privilege to interview 
 Remenyi, who was more than pleased to meet a trav- 
 eller and a polyglot so unexpectedly. The young 
 man was also surprised to find in Remenyi an inter- 
 esting, witty, and well-informed man as well as a 
 brilliant virtuoso. He asked permission to bring 
 him to call upon me. 
 
 Descending to the drawing-room, I found Remenyi 
 
 57 
 
58 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 seated at the piano, his soft felt hat beside him on 
 the floor. He was running his fingers over the keys, 
 looking up at a picture on the wall, but he rose at 
 once, acknowledging his introduction in his gallant 
 but jerky manner; then, turning with a glance which 
 circled the room, he said: " Ah, madame! I enter 
 your house; I tread upon this noble rug; I gaze 
 upon my love, the * Milo ' there (referring to a Barbe- 
 dienne bronze), and we are friends. When I saw her 
 for the first time, when I first went to Paris, I bowed 
 in adoration, and it is the shrine I have ever since 
 visited first, until my love for her has become a veri- 
 table craze, craze, craze.^^ Then, glancing at the 
 pictures on the walls, he said: " You see, madame, 
 I have never met you before; but I enter through the 
 Ionic columns of the peristyle of this Greek temple, 
 your home; I see your pictures; I gaze upon my 
 love; I stand upon this noble rug; and so I know 
 your tastes and mine are the same ; and people should 
 be friends who love the same beautiful things." It 
 was, as often after, almost a monologue. 
 
 It happened that upon the same evening as the con- 
 cert. Professor David Swing of Chicago was to give 
 his lecture upon " The Novel." It was delivered in 
 the High Street Congregational Church, of which the 
 pastor was the Rev. Frank Gunsaulus. Professor 
 Swing was to be our guest, and my husband, who had 
 gone to meet him, arrived with the Professor before 
 Remenyi had ended his visit. I wish I could recall 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH REMENYI 59 
 
 the conversation in detail with its many bright flashes, 
 but can only remember its general quality. After 
 one rather serious reflection of Remenyi^s, a quick 
 turn from gay to grave, Professor Swing remarked: 
 " You are a philosopher, Mr. Remenyi." 
 
 " Oh, yes, in a way. A fiddling philosopher or 
 philosophical fiddler, as you like." 
 
 Remenyi told me that he had promised to play at 
 the Asylum for the Blind the following morning, and 
 would take the liberty of asking me to come and 
 bring " the little one " — the compiler of these me- 
 moirs — and any special friends who would really 
 enjoy it, " for,'' he said, " I shall play from my heart 
 — and touch theirs." I took two friends and " the 
 little one," and was more impressed than ever before 
 by the quality and sympathy of Remenyi's playing 
 and his selections. There was, of course, no pro- 
 gramme, but some of the pieces were so tender and 
 pathetic as to make one's heart-strings vibrate as 
 if the violinist were playing upon them. Then when 
 he had moved his sensitive hearers to sympathy, he 
 played a " caprice " and next the riotous " Carni- 
 val of Venice," with brilliant and intricate impro- 
 vised variations, as he was in the habit of doing with 
 this theme, in which he let his merriment and fancy 
 have free range, until he aroused a corresponding and 
 responsive enthusiasm. All this time he watched 
 the faces before him with their sightless eyes, as they 
 reflected in their expressions and by unconscious 
 
6o EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 movements the emotions he produced in their re- 
 sponsive breasts. Then one or two of the most pro- 
 ficient of the bhnd musicians played for him, and 
 we moved to go. The matron urged him so strongly 
 to stay for luncheon that to my surprise he finally 
 said: " I regret that I cannot, but I am engaged to 
 lunch with Mrs. Kelley, am I not?" 
 
 I, of course, said, " Yes," and he was excused. He 
 explained that he could not stand the strain, and 
 felt that I would understand. In the course of our 
 repast he looked over the table inquiringly and asked, 
 " Have you any more of that sweetmeat I had 
 yesterday? It was awful good." I ordered some 
 sweet pickle of watermelon. It was brought in a 
 glass pickle-dish, which he appropriated and put be- 
 side his plate, exclaiming, " Good! Thank you!" 
 giving little smacks and blinking his eyes as he first 
 tasted it. 
 
 During this visit he spoke of much that was 
 interesting — the golden age of Hungary under 
 Mathias Corvinus, the heroism of the leaders, the 
 persecutions of the people, and their still uncon- 
 quered pride. He was fluent to eloquence and full 
 of the fire of patriotism. 
 
 He left Columbus that afternoon, but his informal 
 visits and his conversation, so full of the taste of the 
 connoisseur in art, of the genius of the musician, and 
 the enthusiasm of the patriot, left a lasting impres- 
 sion. Later he sent me a photograph, inscribed, and 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH REMENYI 6i 
 
 one or two little letters; but his travels carried him 
 far. I was out of the country when he was in it, and 
 it was many years before we met again. It was so 
 long, indeed, that the little incidents which marked 
 his visit in my mind might have been crowded from 
 his memory, in his varying and exciting experiences 
 in remote lands. 
 
 In the Spring of 1897 he again visited Columbus, 
 and gave a concert there and in several of the more 
 important neighboring towns. At the close of the 
 concert my husband made an appomtment for him 
 to call at our house the next day. When I met him 
 he exclaimed, " Still living in the Greek temple! 
 It is long since I entered from its Ionic porch." It 
 sometimes happens where tastes are congenial that 
 a long separation serves to bring persons nearer in- 
 stead of making a gap between, and the friendship 
 which might seem arrested by it proves to have been 
 developed mysteriously and is taken up at a point 
 far in advance of the one where it was interrupted. 
 So it was in this case. There had been only an 
 acquaintance, and that very brief; but Remenyi re- 
 turned after all the years really a friend, with much 
 to tell of his travels — of disaster by sea and musical 
 conquests by land; of fifty-nine concerts given at 
 intervals at Cape Town and of its beauties and musi- 
 cal taste; of the typhoon off Madagascar; of his 
 curios and his pictures. 
 
 "The little one " was become a young woman 
 
62 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 whose education, much of it in Europe, had given 
 her familiarity with several tongues, so that our con- 
 versation, like his letters, was a pot pourri of French, 
 German, and Italian. Her studio and her art-work 
 interested him greatly, especially her portrait minia- 
 ture of the beautiful Queen Margherita of Italy. 
 Remenyi^s expressions of approval and criticism 
 were frank and interesting. During his stay in Co- 
 lumbus, and between his concerts in the neighboring 
 towns, he made our home his chief stopping-place 
 and contributed greatly to our pleasure from the 
 storehouse of his knowledge. 
 
 The son of the house was at that time about twelve 
 years of age, and Remenyi amused himself coining 
 names to express his admiration of the child . ^ * Adonis 
 Appolonia " was Remenyi's favorite name, and he 
 likened the little boy's head to that of the young 
 Augustus. "O you medallion-faced little rascal!" 
 he exclaimed one day, "I am sorry for you, for people 
 will expect you to keep up to your beauty; where- 
 as from an old pumpkin-head like me they expect 
 nothing, and when they find my brilliant intelligence, 
 they are surprised!" 
 
 The boy's keen enjoyment of his humor greatly 
 attracted Remenyi, who, when near him, would clap 
 him on the back or hug him around the shoulders or 
 wrestle playfully with him. Remenyi's brilliancy 
 and his frequent flashes of wit as well as his originality 
 filled his conversation with surprises, which make it 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH REMENYI 63 
 
 extremely difficult to recall it in detail. Everything 
 was suggestive to him of some past experience or 
 wise and philosophical reflection. He showed us the 
 old small photograph of himself and Brahms taken 
 together when both were young men in Hamburg, 
 in 1853, which is reproduced in this volume. He 
 told of his friendship with Victor Hugo during some 
 years when they occupied apartments under the same 
 roof in Paris. Speaking one day of the lack of talent 
 in the children of great men, he was reminded, he said, 
 of an experience of the great author when asked about 
 his son, and if he had inherited any of his literary 
 tastes or had talent in any other of the arts. 
 
 " Mon fils,^^ exclaimed Hugo, " une fee a assiste d 
 sa naissance et lui a prodigue tous les dons, sauf le don 
 de s^en servir,^^ 
 
 He told us of his intense love of the palm and his 
 great desire, as a child, to see that tree, for he knew 
 it only from pictures; and how, when he had saved 
 a little money, he always bought books ; of his rapture, 
 on his first visit to the Riviera, where he saw the living, 
 growing, tall and stately palm trees. He gave us the 
 photograph of himself with the palm branch above 
 him and showed us a leaf, cut long before, which he 
 always kept in the case of his beloved Stradivarius. 
 He told us of the assertion of someone that no person 
 could compose a true and really good "Habanera,'^ 
 and how, afterwards, as he sat in a grove of palms, 
 the wind among their branches produced an irregular 
 
64 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 riotous clashing, a sort of syncopated movement, 
 which inspired him to compose a Habanera. He 
 called it "The Palms," and it was still in manu- 
 script. He talked much of his beloved Hungary, 
 and told us of a movement to erect a statue of King 
 Mathias Corvinus, to be dedicated in about two years, 
 in his birthplace, Kalozsvar, in Transylvania; he 
 said that he should go there to conduct his grand 
 national hymn on that occasion. This hymn for 
 five hundred voices and full orchestra was to be pro- 
 duced then and there for the first time. 
 
 One morning he asked if I would let him send for 
 his accompanist and his soprano to rehearse at our 
 house some parts of the programme to be given in a 
 neighboring town that night. Of course I was de- 
 lighted, and when he told me to ask a few musical 
 friends, I felt we should have a treat. About fifteen 
 appreciative ones came in response to my invitation. 
 After the various concert selections had been played 
 and sung to the great enjoyment of all, Remenyi, who 
 was in high spirits, said, " Now I shall play for you 
 my Habanera." The music of the manuscript was 
 difficult to read at sight, and had of course never been 
 studied, but a friend took the place of the professional 
 accompanist, and her fine instinct and tact, supple- 
 menting her knowledge, gave sympathetic support 
 to the wonderful playing of Remenyi. What verve! 
 What swinging rhythm! What abandon in the 
 riotous, catchy phrases ! One could hear in the close 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH REMENYI 65 
 
 harmonies the clashing of the palm branches, like the 
 swish and swirl of dancers' skirts. Remenyi, too, 
 moved about his end of the room, swaying often 
 in sympathy with the theme. His own enthusiasm 
 and joyousness were so contagious that it seemed as 
 if one could almost see in fancy a whole assembly of 
 gayly dressed peasants whirling and swinging to 
 the fascinating and capricious music. He then pro- 
 duced the manuscript of his " National Hungarian 
 Hymn " and requested of his pretty and sweet- voiced 
 soprano to smg the air at sight. The piano part 
 taxed all the efforts of the reader to the utmost, and 
 of course Remenyi's violin took the lead. A greater 
 change from the brilliancy of the Habanera can 
 scarcely be imagined. With calm dignity the hymn 
 opened, then the theme became more elevated, and 
 the symphonic harmonies more complex. Remenyi 
 himself moved slowly back and forth, sometimes with 
 closed eyes, sometimes tapping the pianist with his 
 bow for sharper accents. Onward and upward 
 swelled the musical tide. His hearers sat spellbound 
 and almost breathless, as the soul of the patriot seemed 
 to be seeking expression for its hope of freedom and 
 glory through the genius of the musician, until, 
 soaring ever onward, the music reached a magnifi- 
 cent climax which one felt was his dream of the 
 apotheosis of his beloved Hungary. We who listened 
 can never forget, for it is rarely given to follow in sym- 
 pathy such elevation of soul and sentiment. After 
 
66 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 this no more music was possible, and as the spell was 
 broken the company fell into little groups, many eager 
 for an opportunity to talk with the man of such magic 
 power. Several questions were asked as to gypsy 
 music, but Remenyi asserted from his knowledge of 
 the gypsies and their life that there exists no sepa- 
 rate gypsy music as such. 
 
 At that time he was very proud of the iron muscle 
 of his arm, and maintained that his diet of unleavened 
 bread, rolled thin and baked hard, with apples and 
 milk, was " fit for a king " and the best thing possible 
 to give vigor and force. Illness had necessitated 
 this diet, but he was, at that time, full of health and 
 life and in high spirits, effervescing in gayety, revel- 
 ling in extravaganza, and using and inventing slang 
 which was irresistibly funny. 
 
 He told an incident of one of his first trips West, 
 when he asked in Chicago how to reach a certain 
 town in Illinois. The clerk said, " By the C, B. & 
 Q." Remenyi was entirely at a loss to know what 
 he meant, but replied, " Then I will go D. A. T." 
 
 It was the clerk's turn to be puzzled, and he asked, 
 " What does that mean? " 
 
 '^ Well," questioned Remenyi, '^ what did you 
 mean ? " 
 
 " Chicago, Burlington & Quincy, of course." 
 
 "Ah! I meant day after to-morrow. ^^ 
 
 That year (1897) he was making a long concert 
 tour of small towns through the country, and some 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH REMENYI 67 
 
 of his letters, or extracts from them, written on the 
 wing and dropped from various halting-places, are 
 given in this volume. They were dashed off at odd 
 moments, and are full of the effervescing enthusiasm 
 of his disposition. His rollicking abandon of words 
 and phrases in various languages, many of his own 
 unique coining, contrasts with, and often cloaks, his 
 keen and deep appreciation of the characteristics of 
 nature, men, and things with which he came in 
 contact. His habit of repeating the letters of a word 
 to give the American emphasis, and his use of ex- 
 travagant numbers to express quantity, were most 
 origmal and amusing. 
 
 Much of the following Winter (1898) was spent in 
 New York by my daughter and myself. Over that 
 period in our acquaintance with Remenyi there hangs 
 the shadow of his terrible depression and anxiety 
 about financial affairs, and a corresponding lowering 
 of physical force. He would not admit the last, and 
 loved to tell how he could outwalk many younger 
 men of his acquaintance. He was a frequent visitor, 
 sometimes coming late in the evening, often on Sun- 
 day, and occasionally bringing his violin and playing 
 as he loved to play. The contract which he made 
 that season was a great trial and humiliation, but it 
 was forced upon him as the most continuous and 
 remunerative engagement he could make. It seemed 
 to appal him because, by the terms of it, he "would 
 be obliged to play for a long, long time." It was 
 
68 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 during this tour that he went West on the trip which 
 ended so tragically in San Francisco. It was sad 
 indeed to know that he did it with so heavy a heart, 
 feeliag that his genius was harnessed to the car of 
 Mammon and could never soar free again in a pure 
 artistic atmosphere. 
 
 I can never forget one flight of his highest musical 
 feeling. I wished to procure a violin for my son, and 
 Remenyi selected two for me to choose between. 
 The store was up one flight of stairs, and I heard 
 strains of the violin as I mounted. On entering I 
 found Remenyi seated at the side of the room near a 
 case of violins, among which were one or two of his 
 own placed on sale. He had taken one down and 
 was literally caressing it. He begged me to sit down 
 and re-seated himself. He did not have much to say, 
 seemed distrait, but drew soft whisperings of music 
 from the violin, which he still held. 
 
 At length he said, " Now I will play for you, 
 really,''^ and he did. With partly closed eyes he 
 played through the intricacies of a Bach fugue, with 
 ever-increasing brilliancy and intensity. The only 
 two others in the large square room were standing 
 near, quite motionless. There was almost a gasp 
 when Remenyi closed that most complex and wonder- 
 ful composition. He seemed to come back to earth, 
 and after some feeble effort at expression on my part, 
 he exclaimed, " That is m-u-u-sic! Oh, yes, I can 
 play." A man who was present and who was, I 
 
ACQUAINTANCE WITH REMENYI 69 
 
 learned afterwards, the concert-meister of Theodore 
 Thomas's orchestra, echoed, " He can play! " 
 
 I little knew as I left New York a few days after- 
 wards that it was the last time I ever should see or 
 hear Edouard Remenyi. 
 
 Mary Dunlevy Kelley. 
 
VI 
 SIDELIGHTS ON REMENYI AS A MAN 
 
 VOLUMES might be written on the dear old 
 man it was my privilege to call friend, but it 
 is my purpose only to relate a few instances which 
 came under my observation during the period of our 
 acquaintance that reveal some of the more intimate 
 characteristics of the man, unknown in his pro- 
 fessional life. 
 
 Remenyi was far above the petty jealousies so 
 often indulged in by artists, and was ever ready to 
 recognize and acknowledge merit in others. I re- 
 call a striking illustration of this in the debut of Cesar 
 Thompson, at Carnegie Hall, in 1894. I attended 
 the first performance with Remenyi and his son, and 
 probably the most enthusiastic of the audience was 
 Remenyi himself. How he raved over that marvel- 
 lous technician's mastery of apparent impossibilities! 
 After the concert he was not satisfied until he had 
 ordered a floral tribute to be sent at once to him with 
 his congratulations. I accompanied him home that 
 evening; he made his way immediately to his room 
 and, taking a violin, began practising with all his tire- 
 less energy. He explained to us later that he had 
 
 70 
 
SIDELIGHTS ON REMENYI AS A MAN 71 
 
 been attempting to play a portion of the afternoon's 
 programme, but that he could hardly hope to dupli- 
 cate Cesar's performance, the smallness of his hands 
 interfering seriously with some of its technical diffi- 
 culties; he said he would try, however. Some weeks 
 later he called several of us into his room and with 
 joyous simplicity played for us the very things he had 
 only a short while before considered beyond him. 
 
 Remenyi always held that constant work and 
 study were absolutely necessary, irrespective of 
 natural gifts, and he rigidly carried out that theory 
 throughout his life. Nor was his appreciation of 
 ability confined to artists of world-wide reputation, 
 like Thompson. No one was easier of access than 
 Remenyi, and during the years I had the privilege of 
 knowing him he was approached by many aspiring 
 violinists. To none did he ever refuse a hearing, 
 and wherever he saw signs of promise his advice and 
 patronage were generously given. 
 
 On one occasion he was invited to attend some 
 special celebration at the church of St. Francis Xavier 
 in New York City. He promised to play twice dur- 
 ing mass, but was so impressed with the perform- 
 ance of the organist, Dethier, then a young man of 
 twenty years, that he requested Dethier to play in 
 his stead for the second number. 
 
 The following incident in connection with Remenyi 
 brings to light his love of humor and his solicitude 
 for his fellow-man. I had dined with his family on 
 
72 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 Christmas day of 1896, and, as he was leaving for 
 Bridgeport that afternoon, I gladly volunteered to 
 accompany him to the station. While waiting for 
 the gates to open (for the train was not yet ready), 
 our attention was drawn to three laborers conversing 
 loudly in Hungarian. Remenyi at once became en- 
 grossed with the subject of their conversation, and in 
 a few moments, excusing himself, he went to the 
 ticket-office and returned with a ticket, which he pre- 
 sented to one of his three countrymen. At j&rst they 
 were greatly puzzled, then suddenly they grasped 
 his hands, and with joy and laughter, began making 
 speeches, unintelligible to me. After Remenyi had 
 left them he explained that the three men were going 
 to Bridgeport, having secured positions there. He 
 had heard one of them sadly remark that he would 
 be unable to accompany the others, not having the 
 wherewithal to buy his ticket, unless the good Lord 
 performed some miracle before the train left. 
 Remenyi, struck with the pathetic side of the affair 
 and the simple faith of the man, immediately per- 
 formed the hoped-for miracle. 
 
 If to the world Remenyi was a great artist, to 
 those whose good fortune it was to know him in- 
 timately he was also a great man, not wholly absorbed 
 with his violin, but keenly alive to everything of 
 interest to the mind; he was generously responsive 
 to all the sensibilities of the heart, capable of dis- 
 cussing Beethoven, Angelo, and Shakespeare, or of 
 
SIDELIGHTS ON REMENYI AS A MAN 73 
 
 bestowing alms and offering a helping hand with 
 equal grace — a man to whom none of the human 
 emotions was a stranger, and who merely selected 
 the violin as best fitted to give them all expression. 
 
 E. T. CORNELIS. 
 
VII 
 REMENYI'S HOME AND ITS TREASURES 
 
 SOME years ago I was visiting a friend in Hun- 
 gary, and was roused one morning very early 
 by a noise in the next room of doors slamming, 
 windows opening and shutting, and furniture mov- 
 ing about. When silence reigned once more, and 
 I was just falling asleep, there was a knock at my 
 door, and a pretty, fair-haired boy, looking like a 
 girl in disguise, walked in, saying: "I am Plotenyi 
 Nardor, the ardent disciple of Remenyi Ede, who 
 has this moment taken up his quarters in the next 
 room." 
 
 "All right. Did you wake me up simply to tell 
 me your name and your rank?'* 
 
 "No, but to beg you will rise, dress, and go for a 
 walk.'' The rascal said this with such a delight- 
 fully obstinate air that he quite won my heart. 
 
 "Go to walk, indeed! " I cried. 
 
 "Yes, master likes to practise very early in the 
 morning and can't bear to have any one hear him." 
 
 "The devil take you and your master, Remenyi 
 Ede ! " I exclaimed. The young fellow turned fiery 
 red and shook with rage and amazement. • 
 
 74 
 
REMENYI'S HOME AND ITS TREASURES 75 
 
 "Oh sir, sir, would you have the devil take him, 
 the great violinist, the successor to Bihary ? '' 
 
 "Is your master a gypsy?" 
 
 "No, but he is the only violinist who has the true 
 tradition of gypsy music." 
 
 "I like that music," said I, " so I'll get up and 
 go down into the garden." 
 
 "Oh, no, sir! Pray go for a long walk. See!" 
 and he opened the window, "every one has left the 
 castle." There, indeed, was the master of the house 
 leading off his friends. They had scarcely slept 
 three hours. I joined them at once, and everybody 
 began to tell me Remenyi's story. 
 
 At seventeen he was attached to the person of 
 Gorgey as a private violinist, during the Hunga- 
 rian war, playing before and after a battle. He 
 then shared the exile of Count Teleki Sardor and 
 other heroes, spending some time at Guernsey, 
 where he knew Victor Hugo. Thence he went to 
 Hamburg, London, and America, where he played, 
 going from triumph to triumph, his renown grow- 
 ing apace. Returning to Hungary, he travelled all 
 over the country, astonishing high and low alike, 
 and playing with the same poetry and fervor in 
 bams and palaces. 
 
 I slipped away and returned to the garden. 
 Remenyi was playing a Bach concerto. I uttered 
 curses, not loud but deep. So it was to play a Bach 
 concerto that this sham gypsy roused me at dawn 1 
 
76 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 He made his appearance at breakfast. He was 
 a common-looking man of medium size. His ex- 
 pression conveyed disdain of the world, yet there 
 was something' jolly in his look, movement, and voice. 
 
 "Remenyi worked well this morning,'' he said, 
 after breakfast. 
 
 He never spoke save to praise himself, and al- 
 ways talked of himself in the third person. 
 
 "Yes, on a Bach concerto,'* said I. 
 
 He drew himself up, exclaiming: "Remenyi plays 
 other things," and calling Nardor, he asked for his 
 violin. Twenty persons ran for it. He played a 
 Hongroise. With the first note his vanity dropped 
 from him like a cloak. He possessed every quality 
 that genius can grant — imagination, delirious fancy, 
 mild caprice, skill, clearness, precision, eloquence, 
 color. He laid down his bow, smiling like a child. 
 The music had worked a wondrous change in him. 
 He was natural and ingenuous. Now and then 
 he took up his violin and played one strain after 
 another. Thus we heard the ball-room scene from 
 Berlioz's "Romeo and Juliet." It was like a mag- 
 ical spell. We were in Italy; the silvery moonbeams 
 fell on the silent rows of cypress trees and marble 
 statues; fountains plashed, then a fair palace ap- 
 peared, all light and music; a crowd hurried by, 
 masked and gaily dressed; the night wind wafted 
 strains of dance music through the garden; then all 
 this faded, and we heard Juliet's cry. 
 
REMENYI^S HOME AND ITS TREASURES 77 
 
 When I thanked the great artist and expressed 
 my admiration of his wonderful execution, he re- 
 plied: "If Remenyi is only satisfied with himself!" 
 with an expressive gesture to complete his phrase. 
 
 He then played a duet with Nardor. Walking 
 sternly toward the mantelpiece, he stopped the pen- 
 dulum of a clock standing there, saying to his host : 
 "Let this clock forever mark the hour when Re- 
 menyi played to you." Horerath Karoly, to whom 
 he spoke, wept with emotion, and we all embraced 
 Remenyi in turn. Next day some devil of obsti- 
 nacy led him back to the Bach concerto. 
 
 On leaving, he invited me to accompany him to 
 his home, Rakos-Palota, near Pesth. He stopped 
 at every village, town, and castle on our way, and 
 wherever he was known was received with open 
 arms. If unknown, he had only to mention his 
 name to be greeted with delight and enthusiasm. 
 
 At last we reached Rakos-Palota. Remenyi's 
 house was a long, low building with nothing extra- 
 ordinary about it. A dirty courtyard filled with 
 poultry lay before it, and a few thin poplar trees 
 grew about, which looked so much like admiration 
 points that I suspected they were planted expressly. 
 Inside, the house formed a long gallery, partitioned 
 off and filled with every imaginable object of value 
 and rarity — all presents. There were curious old 
 jewels, antique rmgs, and gold chains, which would 
 drive a modern jeweller mad. Carvings and every 
 
78 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 variety of rare old china were strewn about, and 
 here and there were weapons of every age, old coins, 
 valuable manuscripts, tapestries, and paintings, but 
 his special treasures were a pair of boots which had 
 belonged to Liszt when a child, and his Hunga- 
 rian sword. 
 
 "Un Cosaque." 
 
VIII 
 REMENYI, LISZT, AND BRAHMS 
 
 AT one of the Philharmonic concerts in the Acad- 
 emy of Music when the society played the sec- 
 ond symphony of Johannes Brahms, and Edouard 
 Remenyi, the great violinist, performed for the first 
 time in this country the Concerto Pathetique by 
 Ernst, a gentleman observed to his companion: "It 
 is a remarkable fact that but for Remenyi we should 
 probably never have heard of Brahms or his great 
 symphonies. There is a curious romance connected 
 with the two artists." Attracted by the strange 
 assertion, the writer requested further information. 
 "I cannot give it," was the reply, "for I know only 
 the general fact. Go and see Remenyi himself; 
 he may be willmg to tell you the story." 
 
 Acting on the suggestion, the writer called at the 
 Westminster Hotel and, after repeated attempts, 
 succeeded in finding the great virtuoso at home, 
 or rather, as he put it, in his "musical den." . . 
 . . . When the writer broached the subject of 
 his visit and explained the incident that occasioned 
 it, a cloud temporarily passed over the features of 
 the artist and he remarked, "What you heard at 
 
 79 
 
8o EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 the Academy is true, but I am reluctant to give 
 you any further details. It is a secret which I have 
 carried for twenty-five years, and I see no necessity 
 for making it public now." 
 
 "Then you knew Brahms intimately?" 
 
 "Quite so; yes," and a curious smile was appar- 
 ent. 
 
 "Did you save his life, or anything of that kind?" 
 
 "Oh, no (the smile broadened), but we were 
 very good friends in our boyhood, as you may in- 
 fer from this picture," taking from an escritoire 
 an old-fashioned daguerreotype, dated on the back 
 "Hamburg, 1853," and representing two beardless 
 youths, one Remenyi sitting, and the other Johannes 
 Brahms standing, with his hand resting familiarly 
 on the shoulder of his companion. 
 
 "Then you must have known Brahms before he 
 met Robert Schumann?" 
 
 "Yes, I did." 
 
 "Yet, did not Schumann write in a musical jour- 
 nal in Leipsic in 1853 the startling announcement 
 that in the person of Brahms he had discovered a 
 new messiah in music?" 
 
 "That is true. I think that it was in the month 
 of October, but never mind." 
 
 "There must, therefore, be some basis for the 
 remark that I overheard at the Academy, and which 
 has brought me here." 
 
 "Well," said Remenyi, impulsively, "I will tell 
 
REMENYI, WITH BRAHMS, THE COMPOSER 
 
 ( From a daguerreotype made in Hamburg in January, 1853; Remenyi 
 sitting, Brahms standing ) 
 
REMENYI, LISZT, AND BRAHMS 8i 
 
 you, although, as I said before, I am reluctant to 
 reveal that which I have carefully withheld for a 
 quarter of a century. Listen ! " And with the pic- 
 ture in his hand, he commenced to pace nervously 
 up and down the floor. 
 
 "I was in Hamburg toward the end of the year 
 1852, a kind oi enjant gdtij a spoiled child of the 
 Slite of the city. There was scarcely a concert or 
 soirie where my presence and assistance were not 
 required. Probably much of this kindness and at- 
 tention were due to the fact that I was then a Hun- 
 garian exile. During the concerts, it was, of course, 
 necessary for me to employ the services of an ac- 
 companist. In January, 1853, a fashionable mu- 
 sical entertainment was announced at the house of 
 one of the great merchant princes of Hamburg, a 
 Mr. Helmrich. On the very day that the soirSe was 
 to take place I received a letter from my regular 
 accompanist stating that he would be unable to be 
 present that evening, owing to illness. I went 
 across the street from my hotel, to the music estab- 
 lishment of Mr. Auguste Bohm, to ascertain where 
 I could find a substitute. In answer to my inquiries, 
 that gentleman remarked, in a nonchalant manner, 
 that little Johannes would perhaps be satisfactory. 
 I asked what sort of Johannes he was. He replied, 
 'He is a poor piano-teacher, whose name is Johannes 
 Brahms. He is a worthy young man, a good musi- 
 cian, and very devoted to his family.' 'All right,' 
 
S2 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 I said ; 'send him to the hotel in the afternoon, and 
 I will see him.' 
 
 "About five o'clock of the same day, while prac- 
 tising in my room, somebody knocked at the door, 
 and in came a youth with a very high soprano voice, 
 but whose features, owing to the dusk of the evening, 
 I could not well discern. I lighted a candle, and 
 then saw standing before me a young man who ap- 
 peared to be about sixteen or seventeen years of 
 age. Both of us at that time were mere boys, and 
 probably looked younger than we were in reality. 
 He observed in a modest way, 'My name is Johannes 
 Brahms. I have been sent here by Mr. Bohm to 
 accompany you and shall be very happy if I can 
 satisfy you as an assistant.' We began to rehearse 
 at once, but he had scarcely touched the piano be- 
 fore I found that he was a far better musician than 
 my previous accompanist, and I became interested 
 at once in my new-made friend. I don't know why, 
 but at that very instant a sort of aureole seemed to 
 linger around his face, it lighted up so beautifully, 
 and I distinctly remember soliloquizing to myself: 
 'There is a genius here. This is no ordinary pianist. 
 Fate has laid her fingers on my friend.' I addressed 
 to him question after question concerning his ca- 
 reer, and learned its most important details, among 
 other things that he made compositions of his own. 
 We ceased rehearsing, and when he began to play 
 one of his sonatas, violin soiree engagements and 
 
REMENYI, LISZT, AND BRAHMS 83 
 
 everything were forgotten in the intense enthusiasm 
 that was engendered by the occasion. I was electri- 
 fied and sat in mute amazement. I could not help 
 making the involuntary remark, 'My dear Brahms, 
 you are a genius!' He smiled in a melancholy sort 
 of way — in fact, his face at that time always wore a 
 sad and thoughtful expression — and replied, ' Well, 
 if I am a genius, I am certainly not much recog- 
 nized in this good city of Hamburg.' 'But they 
 will recognize you,' I said, 'and I shall henceforth 
 tell everybody I meet that I have discovered in you 
 a rare musical gem.' You may imagine the char- 
 acter of that interview when I tell you we did not 
 separate until four o'clock in the morning. 
 
 "The people at Mr. Helmrich's were, of course, 
 disappointed and very angry at my non-appearance, 
 but I was a mere boy and cared little for con- 
 sequences at that time. The result was that I lost 
 many similar opportunities and became a sort of 
 laughing-stock among the citizens of Hamburg. 
 Some of them sneeringly said, 'As you don't want 
 us, we don't want you. Since you have found a 
 genius, go and help yourselves.' I took up the gaunt- 
 let. 
 
 "Not to be too long with you," Remenyi said, 
 "I have only to say that all of my engagements 
 ceased, but I clung to my Johannes through thick 
 and thin, feeling that all I said about him must 
 and would prove true. I had against me even 
 
84 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 Marxsen, his teacher of counterpoint, a very dig- 
 nified man, who told me plainly, ' Well, well, I am 
 very sorry for your judgment. Johannes Brahms 
 may have some talent, but he is certainly not the 
 genius you stamp him.' My reply was uniformly 
 the same. His own father, who was a musician, 
 likewise failed to discover the peculiar qualities 
 possessed by his gifted son, and I believe my judg- 
 ment of him was recognized and appreciated only 
 by his mother, who, with the instinctive nature of 
 her sex, saw when it was pointed out to her that 
 Johannes had before him the future of a great mu- 
 
 sician." 
 
 " What was the condition of his family at this 
 time?" 
 
 "They were in humble circumstances. The father 
 played contrabasso in small orchestras, but was not 
 by any means a remarkable musician. Johannes 
 lived with them and contributed to their sup- 
 port. He was bom when his mother was at a 
 comparatively advanced age — what I would call a 
 late-bom child. His mother, by the way, was older 
 than his father." 
 
 " What were the mental characteristics of 
 Brahms?" 
 
 " He was a great reader, especially of German 
 poetry, and knew the best of it more or less by heart. 
 To strangers he was monosyllabic in conversation, 
 inclined to be moody and reticent, but when alone 
 
REMENYI, LISZT, AND BRAHMS 85 
 
 with me he was joyous and communicative. In 
 fact he had perfect reliance on my judgment that 
 he would succeed, and seemed to accept my pre- 
 dictions just as much as if they were a matter of 
 fate. At this time he was giving lessons for the 
 paltry sum of fifteen cents an hour. I determined 
 to take him away from Hamburg, but everybody, 
 with the exception of his mother, smiled at the sug- 
 gestion, and regarded it as fraught with folly. How- 
 ever, in the Spring of 1853 we left the city for the 
 purpose of going to Weimar, but to get there we 
 required money, and we had none. We had, there- 
 fore, to play our way from station to station, giving 
 concerts in small villages and towns, writing and 
 distributing the programmes ourselves, and to be 
 content with receipts that did not average more 
 than five or ten dollars. From an enfant gdte you 
 see I came down to a very humble position, but I 
 never despaired. Everywhere en route I recom- 
 mended my Johannes to everybody as a genius, 
 for I desired him, in my enthusiasm, to be recog- 
 nized by the whole world. At last we reached Han- 
 over, when I went straight to Joseph Joachim, with 
 whom I had studied in the Conservatory at Vienna. 
 He was at this time about twenty-one years of age, 
 and a favorite of the blind King (who is now dead), 
 occupying the position of concertmeister to His 
 Majesty. I at once told him that I had no money, 
 and that he must assist me. I also said that I had 
 
86 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 left behind me in a little inn a young companion, 
 named Johannes Brahms, who was a musical genius. 
 At this stereotyped statement he smiled, and said 
 that he would willingly recommend me and my com- 
 panion to the King, in order that we might, per- 
 haps, obtain the privilege of giving a concert before 
 him, and thus secure a sufficient sum to carry us 
 on our way. 
 
 " In the afternoon of that day I was called, with 
 Joachim, to the presence of His Majesty. He in- 
 quired whom I desired for an accompanist and I 
 replied, ' Your Majesty, I want none, because I have 
 one with me whom I regard as a great musical 
 genius.' The blind King replied, 'Well, we will 
 hear your genius in the evening, when you shall 
 give a concert in the court circle.' In the course of 
 the evening the King asked Brahms to play some 
 of his own compositions. When he had finished. 
 His Majesty, taking my hand, led me to the win- 
 dow and said: 'My dear Mr. Remenyi, I believe 
 you are carried away by your enthusiasm; your 
 musical genius has no genius at all. ' This historical 
 moment was recalled to me by the King himself 
 when in Paris in 1874. At a concert at the Salle 
 Herz, after I had finished playing, he observed to 
 me: 'With reference to your friend Johannes 
 Brahms, you were right, and we were all wrong. I 
 remember your prediction in 1853 concerning that 
 young lad, and his present reputation is an honor 
 
REMENYI, LISZT, AND BRAHMS 87 
 
 to your judgment.' The present Duke of Cumber- 
 land, the son of the King, and the whole suite were 
 standing near by when His Majesty recapitulated 
 the circumstances in detail. They all stared at 
 me. 
 
 " From Hanover we went to Weimar, then the 
 home of Liszt, and proceeded to the H6tel de Russie. 
 I dressed in my finest clothes for the great event of 
 presenting myself to him. I went to his residence 
 alone, and had scarcely arrived before I was ushered 
 into a beautiful drawing-room full of the most ex- 
 quisite objects of art, where I tremblingly awaited 
 the appearance of the great man. As he came, 
 the sight of his fine Dantesque face, which once 
 seen can never be forgotten, almost overwhelmed 
 me, but in a very few moments his kind manners 
 and fine conversation put me completely at ease 
 and restored me my self-possession. I told him 
 frankly that I desired to avail myself of his instruc- 
 tion in music. He at once consented, adding that 
 it would give him an especial pleasure to teach me 
 because I was a fellow-countryman, a Hungarian. 
 He said he had heard of me, and had made many 
 inquiries concerning my past experience. In the 
 course of the conversation he facetiously inquired 
 if I was well supplied with money. I told him I 
 had little or none. * Where do you live ? ' said he. 
 I told him I was at a neighboring hotel. He said, 
 * Get your things together and come and live with 
 
88 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 me.' You cannot imagine my feelings. I was 
 again overwhelmed, but this time with joy and grati- 
 tude. I said to him ' But, my dear master, I am 
 not alone, ' and in a few hurried words explained 
 the discovery I had made in Hamburg, and de- 
 scribed my friend Johannes. * Oh, well, ' said he, 
 4t does not matter. Come and live here together.' 
 A heavy weight fell from my breast, and I ran back 
 to the hotel, carrying the good news. Brahms was 
 as much overjoyed as myself. We packed our 
 baggage, and the next morning went to Altenberg, 
 the residence of Liszt. After being comfortably 
 installed, the great master said: 'Well, what is your 
 genius, as you call him, able to do?' * Master, 
 he will play you some of his own compositions, 
 which I hope will satisfy your high judgment.' 
 Brahms was therefore invited to sit down to the 
 piano, but hesitated, not daring to do so in the 
 presence of so illustrious a personage. Seeing 
 this, Liszt kindly said : * If you have your composi- 
 tions at hand I will play them for you.' He played 
 two or three of them, as only the great maestro is 
 able to play, at first sight. Brahms was overpowered, 
 and I wept. After finishing them, Liszt left the 
 piano, and walked up and down the room, saying 
 nothing except * Well, well! We shall see! ' — noth- 
 ing more, and relapsed into silence. After this 
 pupils came in, and one of those interesting lessons 
 was given which are only to be witnessed at the 
 
REMENYI, LISZT, AND BRAHMS 89 
 
 Altenberg, where music was better taught and in a 
 more congenial way than anywhere else in the world. 
 It was a combination of theory and practice illus- 
 trated by the brain and fingers of the greatest 
 exponent of music who lives. I have no need to 
 say that the pupils regarded Liszt with veneration; 
 in fact, almost worshipped him. 
 
 "And now comes an incident which has been 
 a puzzle to me until the present time. While Liszt 
 was playing most sublimely to his pupils, Brahms 
 calmly slept in a fauteuil, or at least seemed to do so. 
 It was an act that produced bad blood among those 
 present, and everybody looked astonished and an- 
 noyed. I was thunderstruck. In going out I ques- 
 tioned Brahms concerning his behavior. His only 
 excuse w2ls: "Well, I was overcome with fatigue; I 
 could not help it." My friend, William Mason, a 
 distinguished American pianist and teacher, who 
 is now in this city, was present on the memorable 
 occasion and will corroborate the circumstance I 
 have described. I mentioned it to him only the 
 other day, and he remembered it perfectly. I said 
 to Brahms: 'Whatever the cause, that moment was 
 not the time for sleep, and I see clearly that there is 
 no staying for you here.' I commenced to think 
 about his removal to a more congenial place, still 
 determined, however, to adhere to my first judg- 
 ment. After a week's residence at Altenberg, I 
 said to Brahms: * It is useless for you to remain in 
 
go EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 this neighborhood any longer, still I cannot go with 
 you, because the great master is kind to me and I 
 must continue my studies with him, therefore I will 
 write a letter for you to Joseph Joachim, praying that 
 he will send you to Robert Schumann, at Diisseldorf / 
 He agreed to the proposition. We put our little 
 funds together, with which Brahms was able to 
 reach Hanover, whence he went straight to Robert 
 Schumann with a letter of introduction from my 
 friend Joachim. Strangely enough I did not hear 
 anything from Brahms for some time; probably he 
 forgot me [and Remenyi said it painfully]. One 
 day while sitting at dinner with Liszt (it was his 
 habit to open his letters and newspapers while 
 eating) he turned to me suddenly with the remark: 
 'Well, Remenyi, it seems that your judgment is right, 
 after all. Here is a letter in " The Leipsic New 
 Musical Journal," written by Robert Schumann, 
 that will astonish the musical world. It says that a 
 " new musical messiah has arrived, and that Minerva 
 stood at the cradle of Johannes Brahms." ' I burst 
 into tears, for I felt in an instant that it was a rec- 
 ompense for the devotion and persistency with which 
 I had unselfishly adhered to the fortunes of my 
 friend. Liszt became very thoughtful and said 
 nothmg more. From that moment I waited for a 
 letter from Brahms, but it never came. And this," 
 said Remenyi, "is the plain narrative of the incident 
 
REMENYI, LISZT, AND BRAHMS 91 
 
 which you have asked me to divulge, and which for 
 twenty years I have held sacred.'* 
 
 "By the way," added the speaker, turning to a 
 volume, "I see it is stated here that *in 1853 young 
 Brahms made his first concert tour, and by mere 
 chance went to Diisseldorf, where he took the occa- 
 sion to make the acquaintance of Schumann.' You 
 see from what I have said that it is absolutely not true. 
 The visit to Schumann was most deliberately ar- 
 ranged by myself, and my letter to Joachim and the 
 letter from Joachim to Schumann were simply 
 stepping-stones in the career of Johannes Brahms." 
 
 "Have you met Brahms in person since that time ? " 
 
 "Yes, twice. We were a few hours together, but 
 no reference was made by either of us to the past. 
 If he remembered it he may have had his reasons for 
 shunning the subject, and I certainly did not care 
 to recall it to his mind. Our conversation was of a 
 general character." 
 
 "Now, let me ask you another question. Why is 
 it you never play Brahms's 'Hungarian Dances,' 
 being a Hungarian yourself, and a natural lover of 
 your own national music?" 
 
 At this question Remenyi's face became suddenly 
 clouded: in fact, it was covered with a shadow of 
 pain. He replied after a moment, laying down the 
 above-mentioned daguerreotype. "Ah! there is an- 
 other point of history. You will remember that I 
 
92 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 told you we travelled from village to village, earning 
 a few dollars by the wayside. In the hotels at night, 
 for the purpose of killing time, it was my habit to 
 compose Hungarian melodies. Some of these I 
 showed to him. To several, for the purpose of ma- 
 king an innocent deception, I gave the name of 
 national airs, without saying by whom they were 
 written, and my pleasure was always boundless 
 when I heard him describe them as good, knowing 
 that he was an impartial judge and appreciated 
 that which was excellent in our art. One day, in 
 1868, after I had received my amnesty and was per- 
 mitted to return to Hungary and travel unrestrain- 
 edly elsewhere, I happened to be in Vienna, and by 
 accident went into a music store for the purpose of 
 learning what new publications had appeared. 
 Among the pieces that were handed me were a 
 series of Hungarian dances, which the proprietor of 
 the establishment said were making a sensation 
 all over the civilized world. I overlooked them 
 feverishly and discovered at once the origin of every 
 one of the ten numbers. It is true that in the first 
 editions made by Simrock, the title-page contained 
 the words, * Hungarian Dances,' followed, in very 
 small letters, by the words, * transcribed by (gesetzt),' 
 and then the words, in large letters, 'Johannes Brahms' ; 
 but since that time new editions have appeared as 
 the compositions of Brahms himself, and he must be 
 aware of the fact. Indeed [turning to a file of 
 
REMENYI, LISZT, AND BRAHMS 93 
 
 music], you can see here that his name is boldly 
 attached to these dances, as if he were the actual 
 composer. Now, the fact is that the ten composi- 
 tions have the following origin : 
 
 " The first, in G minor, is called in Hungary the 
 * Divine Czardas,' and was published early in 1850 
 by the music firm, Rozsavolgyi, of Pesth, as you 
 may see. 
 
 " The second, in D minor, is a popular czardas 
 known all over Hungary from time immemorial. 
 
 " The third is in F minor, and the first part of it 
 is my own. The second part is No. 5 of the * Tolnai 
 Lakadalmas ' czardas, by Riszner. 
 
 " No. 4 is not a Hungarian air at all, but a bad 
 imitation of Schubert's world-renowned serenade, 
 travestied into a czardas. 
 
 ^ " No. 5, the first part in F sharp minor, is a popu- 
 lar czardas by an unknown author. The second 
 part ism F sharp major; it is not at all Hungarian, 
 but a Slavonic dancing-air of olden time. 
 
 " No. 6 is a favorite czardas which became very 
 popular in Hungary in the year 1861, and was, I be- 
 lieve, composed by Nittinger. Hungarian popular 
 composers are very careless about their authorship 
 and then: copyrights, and I hope they will be sharper 
 hereafter. 
 
 " No. 7, in F, is entirely my own and very gen- 
 erally played. 
 
 "No. 8, in A minor, is a popular czardas 
 
94 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 composed by Szabady-Frank, and has been known 
 during the last twenty-five years in Hungary by 
 the name of 'Louisa Czardas.' It has a singular 
 resemblance to a duetto in * Lucia di Lammermoor.' 
 
 " No. 9, in E minor, is an air by some unknown 
 Hungarian warbler or troubadour. It is very fine, 
 and it was given to Brahms by me in 1853 during 
 our peregrinations. 
 
 "No. 10, is, again, taken from the very popular 
 'Tolnai Lakadalmas' czardas, by Riszner, the music 
 published by Wagner, and printed in Pesth about 
 the year 1840. One or two are Hungarian dances 
 composed by Keler Bela, but which I do not know 
 precisely. 
 
 "You see, therefore, why I am averse to the per- 
 formance of these so-called ' Brahms' dances.' I 
 have been asked to play them many times, but have 
 uniformly answered 'no,' for I knew them long be- 
 fore they ever appeared with the name of Brahms 
 as their figurehead." 
 
 "But if some of these are your own compositions, 
 why don't you play them?" 
 
 " For the simple reason that the public may think 
 I am not playing them in the right way, inasmuch 
 as they have been accustomed to hearing them given 
 in a style totally different from my own, although 
 I think you will concede that I ought to be the best 
 judge of the manner in which my own compositions 
 should be performed." 
 
) 3 
 
 ''\i'^-^M<i 
 
 EDOUARD REMENYI AND MAXIMILIAN VOGRICH 
 ( From a photograph taken in 1879 ) 
 
REMENYI, LISZT. AND BRAHMS 95 
 
 A rap at the door at this moment announced the 
 arrival of two or three gentlemen, and the interview 
 was thus brought to a close. Remenyi, however, 
 took occasion to say hurriedly that during his stay 
 in New York he had found another artist — a brother 
 Hungarian — who might be appropriately described 
 as the coming man in musical composition, and who 
 was destined for a remarkable career* He said: 
 
 " If, as a boy, I judged so well for Brahms, I have 
 now the courage, after twenty-five years* experience, 
 without fear of denial, to declare that I have discov- 
 ered another musical genius. I know that when I an- 
 nounce his name it will be the signal for the opening 
 of all the vials of malice and professional jealousy, 
 but if the Almighty preserves him in health, believe 
 me that you will yet see masterpieces by a man 
 who has been prodigally endowed by nature and who 
 will illustrate his gifts in a manner that will astonish 
 the lovers of all truly great music. He has the head 
 of a Mozart." 
 
 "What is his name?" 
 
 " I will reserve that until I see you again." 
 
 — ^New York Herald, Jan. 18, 1879. 
 
 * Remenyi referred to his protege^ Maximilian Vogrich, the composer. 
 
IX 
 REMENYI AS A PATRIOT 
 
 DURING the Hungarian Revolution of 1848 
 and 1849 Remenyi played a prominent part. 
 Though he did not actually fight, he was present at 
 the most important battles. During the engagements, 
 and also after a day's fighting was over, he encour- 
 aged the patriots to action by playing patriotic battle 
 airs and hymns in his inimitable style. So stirring, 
 indeed, was the effect of his activities that special 
 efforts were made by the Austrians and Russians to 
 capture him, for they considered him as important 
 a factor as some of the leaders. After the surrender 
 at Vilkgos, in 1849, Remenyi fled from Hungary 
 with other patriots. 
 
 During the '50's, he returned and found that Hun- 
 gary was almost like a graveyard; the Magyar 
 people were suffering in silence from the tyranny 
 of their Austrian oppressors. It was then that, go- 
 ing from city to city and from village to village, Re- 
 menyi, playing the soul-stirring "Racokzy March," 
 infused new blood into the people, called them to 
 action, and animated the patriots. The effect was 
 so tremendous that it alarmed the government. An 
 ofificial edict was issued forbidding Remenyi, under 
 
 96 
 
REMENYI AS A PATRIOT 97 
 
 the penalty of death, to play with this purpose in 
 view. Undaunted by this edict, he continued, and 
 eluded his pursuers for a time, but at last was again 
 compelled to flee from the country. After the agree- 
 ment between Hungary and Austria was consum- 
 mated, in 1867, and general amnesty declared, 
 Remenyi returned to his native land. 
 
 His best friend and comrade was Alexander Petofi, 
 the soldier poet and the popular idol of the Magyar 
 people, who not only helped them in their struggle 
 for liberty with the pen but also with the sword, 
 and fell at the battle of Segevar, in 1849. In order 
 to manifest the patriotic gratitude of the people to 
 this great leader, it was resolved to erect a monu- 
 ment to him at Budapest, and Remenyi, on a 
 concert tour throughout Hungary, raised thirty 
 thousand florins for that purpose,* declaring that 
 while he had no more than was absolutely necessary 
 to live on, he would not keep a dollar for himself 
 from the earnings of these concerts until he had 
 raised a sufficient amount for the erection of the 
 monument. This he accomplished, and the Petofi 
 statue at Budapest to-day is one of the grandest tes- 
 timonials to the unselfish patriotism of Remenyi. 
 
 I well remember, on one occasion about four years 
 before his death, calling upon him with a delega- 
 tion for the purpose of getting him to play at a char- 
 itable affair. He received us in his bedchamber. 
 
 * Mme. Remenyi in her sketch makes this sum one hundred thousand 
 florins. 
 
98 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 We found him sitting on his bed in picturesque 
 negligS, tuning and cleaning his favorite Stradiva- 
 rius, which he hugged very close to his breast. He 
 said to us that the Strad was his inseparable com- 
 panion and bedfellow, and that he could not sleep 
 peacefully unless he knew it was lying close by him. 
 Then, taking up the inanimate piece of wood, he 
 suddenly, with his characteristic quickness, played 
 one of his favorite serenades as if inspired by some 
 superhuman spirit, and while we were standing 
 around spellbound he broke into a fiery czardas. 
 
 On another occasion early in the Spring of 1898, 
 at a reception tendered to him by the New York 
 Hungarian Literary Society, on the eve of his de- 
 parture for the West, his last earthly journey, he 
 said to me: 
 
 "My dear Cukor, this piece of wood and its 
 predecessor were my truest, my closest companions 
 through life. When I wept, they sobbed, and when 
 I rejoiced, they laughed; they shared my sorrows 
 and my joys. I know and I feel that I shall die in 
 harness; that I shall go on my last earthly tour with 
 these precious companions of mine, interpreting 
 the very depths of my soul and giving expression to 
 my tenderest and deepest inspirations. Yes, my dear 
 boy, I shall die fiddling." 
 
 How true that prophecy was, is shown by his un- 
 timely death at San Francisco while he was actually 
 performing on his favorite Stradivarius. 
 
 Morris Cukor. 
 
PART II 
 
 DEATH OF REMENYI AND TRIBUTES TO 
 fflS GENIUS 
 
The strings are mute 
 And the bow is stilled, 
 For gone is the master-hand. 
 Yet the chords he stirred 
 In the hearts once thrilled 
 Find echoes in every land. 
 
 — G. D. K. 
 
I 
 
 DEATH OF REMENYI 
 
 EDOUARD REMENYI fell dead this afternoon 
 at the Orpheum Theatre in this city. It was 
 Remenyi's first appearance on the vaudeville stage. 
 As the artist appeared, and was greeted with tu- 
 multuous applause, he bowed his acknowledgment 
 and seemed immensely pleased at the reception 
 given him. He had played two or three classical 
 pieces, and had answered to an encore with the 
 familiar ' Old Glory.' Remenyi played as if in- 
 spired. His three thousand auditors, as he ap- 
 proached his climax, literally rose with him, leaving 
 their seats in then* excitement, completely carried 
 away by his achievement. When the music ceased 
 the house was swept with a torrent of bravos. In 
 response to another burst of applause, Remenyi 
 commenced to play Delibes' * Pizzicato.' He had 
 just completed a few bars of the difficult fingering 
 when he leaned forward as if to speak to one of the 
 musicians in the orchestra. He seemed to pause 
 a moment, and then slowly fell forward on his face. 
 One of the musicians caught him just before he 
 touched the stage and prevented him from rolling ofi. 
 
 lOI 
 
kpa: • ; EpOUARD REMENYI 
 
 All was over. He was carried from the stage, and 
 physicians worked over him for some time, but 
 their efforts were futile. Remenyi had seemed over- 
 whelmed at the great reception given him. After 
 playing his first selection, he said to a friend behind 
 the stage: ' Wonderful; a wonderful audience; won- 
 derful; a great people! ^ In addressing a gather- 
 ing of friends at his hotel last night, Remenyi said, 
 among other things : ^ I will play three-quarters of 
 my life, I will play all my life, and I will play after 
 I am dead. My hands are still limber and my 
 arms are still strong.' " — Despatch from San Fran- 
 cisco to the New York Herald, May i6, 1898. 
 
n 
 
 REMENYI'S DEATH ON THE STAGE 
 
 THE science of music is the science of moving 
 the mind or the soul, and he or she who is 
 gifted to become master can enslave those who 
 listen. Remenyi proved the truth of this definition. 
 It has been said that despondency anchors the soul 
 to its sorrow to the extent that it deafens the ear. 
 As was said, weepingly, by the exiled Israelites when 
 they hung their harps upon the willows by the river, 
 " How can we sing and play in a strange land when 
 our thoughts are on Zion?" Age had come upon 
 Remenyi; opportunities had been overlooked. His 
 youthful improvidence and carelessness with regard 
 to providing for old age were now telling on him. 
 The necessities of home forced him to accept exile 
 from the high place on the concert stage where he 
 had been a star; but with indomitable courage, 
 and defying the infirmities due to years and poor 
 health, he declared that in this new engagement 
 he would create the sensation of his life. He would 
 prove the truth of the statement that the moving 
 of the mind and the soul was the mission of music, 
 and that he would win from thousands the applause 
 
 103 
 
104 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 that would emphasize the same. He had come 
 here to play in a strange land, where his heart was 
 sad and his " Zion " seemed destroyed. This prom- 
 ise to triumph was not idle. No artist ever lived 
 who triumphed more than he did upon the occa- 
 sion in question. He appeared before many thou- 
 sands and was received with great enthusiasm. Not 
 one of those who applauded him knew that during 
 all the preceding night and up to noon of the day 
 on which he played, he had been suffering extreme 
 pain, and attended by a nurse and a doctor. When 
 the sun was well up, he inquired of the nurse the 
 time and said: "At eleven o'clock I must rehearse 
 with the orchestra." His physician. Dr. Winslow 
 Anderson, forbade him to leave his bed. 
 
 Remenyi smiled, and remarked: " I stayed in bed 
 all night because that was the proper place for me, 
 but to-day my place is on the stage with my violin, 
 and I will create the sensation of my life." 
 
 In disobedience to the doctor's orders and de- 
 spite the beseeching of his friends, he wrapped him- 
 self in his famous old cloak, and, placing his violin 
 under his arm, was starting for the Orpheum Thea- 
 tre, when a messenger brought in a large bunch 
 of carnations from my daughter. These he ad- 
 mired and raved over with his usual enthusiasm, 
 declaring that he could not go without writing her 
 a letter. He immediately sat down and penned 
 the following: 
 
REMENYI'S DEATH ON THE STAGE 105 
 
 "My very dear Miss Mabel: A million good thanks (count them) 
 for your gracious girlish floral sending. Will try to come up with 
 my violin to the sender and the beauty of the flowers. Thanks, 
 and beUeve me to be always your friend, 
 
 " Ed. Remenyi." 
 
 This was the last letter he ever wrote. He pro- 
 ceeded to the theatre, and when his place on the 
 programme was reached he appeared and was 
 greeted with an ovation. His audience knew him, 
 and they emphasized their feelings enthusiastically; 
 it was several minutes before he could proceed. 
 "My dearest friend!'' he said, as he held up his 
 violin and looked at it proudly. His first piece was 
 rendered possibly better than he had ever played it 
 before. The applause that followed betokened 
 that his audience was conscious such was the 
 fact. Bowing repeatedly, he proceeded with his 
 second piece, the " Pizzicato," from Delibes' ballet 
 "Sylvia." The applause which followed was no less 
 hearty. Then he played a third piece, which brought 
 forth new bravos and more strenuous applause. 
 After some hesitancy, being fatigued, in response 
 to the overwhelming call he appeared again and 
 finally consented to play " Old Glory," which is so 
 dear to every American. He had scarcely played 
 four bars, when suddenly his frame quivered and 
 his bow fell from his hands.* There was a great 
 
 * There is some confusion as regards the piece Remenyi was playing 
 when he fell. It is generally supposed he was just beginning to play the 
 " Pizzicato " from the Delibes* Suite, when the bow dropped from his hand. 
 
io6 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 silence; he looked bewildered; suddenly he sank 
 to the stage; he realized that his work was over. 
 His violin was his last thought. He put both arms 
 around it, hugging it as tenderly as a mother would 
 her babe. It was saved from being wrecked or 
 even injured by the fall. His lifeless body was car- 
 ried to an adjoining room, from whence it was 
 taken and lovingly cared for by his immediate 
 friends and sincere admirers. 
 
 The family were notified, and his body was directed 
 to be sent to his home in New York. While it 
 was resting here awaiting shipment, a death- 
 mask was taken by the artist, Val. Schmidt. 
 The mask was delivered to F. Marion Wells, 
 who had partly prepared a bust of Remenyi when 
 the artist himself died. 
 
 Henry J. Kowalsky. 
 
m 
 
 THE FUNERAL SERVICES IN NEW YORK 
 
 [The body of Remenyi arrived in New York, May 28, and was 
 taken by members of the Yorkville Hungarian Society to its rooms 
 to await the public funeral on the next day at the Lenox Lyceum. 
 The Remenyi Memorial Committee selected the following pall- 
 bearers: Colonel Robert G. Ingersoll, Henry D. Chapman, Jr., 
 Robert H. Griffin, Emerson McMillan, John Philip Sousa, Bruno 
 Oscar Klein, Max Vogrich, Isadore Luckstone, William Perzel, 
 Consul General Francis Stockinger, Robert W. Bourne, Edward 
 T. Cornells, Rafael Joseffy, Louis Fleishman, Alexander Hol- 
 lander, John D. Crimmins, Sigmund Neustadt, Theodore Jotis, 
 Vilmos Kovas, Sylvester A. Murphy, Emerson Kleinmann, Marcus 
 Brown, John Kiss, Norman A. Edison, and Morris A. Cukor. The 
 following description of the services is taken from " The New York 
 Herald "of May 30, 1898. 
 
 " The public funeral of Edouard Remenyi, the violin virtuoso, 
 took place yesterday morning at the Lenox Lyceiun, Madison Ave- 
 nue and Fifty-ninth Street, at eleven o'clock. The funeral 
 cortege left the Yorkville Hungarian Society's rooms at 10:30 
 o'clock and, headed by two hundred members of that so- 
 ciety, marched to the Lyceum. There the funeral party 
 was met by the pallbearers, numbering thirty well-known 
 men in the musical world, and friends of the dead musician, who 
 followed the body up the centre aisle. The Musical Mutual Pro 
 tective Union (Conductor, Sam Lehman) played a funeral march, 
 composed for the occasion by Ludomir Thomas. The body, in a 
 simple casket, surrounded by flowers, was laid on the catafalque, 
 and the programme, which consisted of six numbers, began. 
 The Lyceum was packed to overflowing by friends of the 
 
 107 
 
io8 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 dead violinist. The two children of Remenyi, Tibor and Adrienne, 
 walked in advance of the procession up the aisle and sat on either 
 side of the casket. Mrs. Remenyi, who has been an invalid for 
 years, was unable to attend. After the funeral march had been 
 played, the male chorus of the Hungarian Singing Society, led by 
 their conductor. Professor Ringelmann, sang the Hungarian na- 
 tional anthem, * Magyar Dalarda.' The fourth number on the 
 programme was the Hungarian National Dirge, played by five 
 Hungarian bands. The solo of Olah Pal, * Repulj Ferskun ' 
 (* Fly, My Bird '), was exquisitely executed, notwithstanding the 
 fact that Mr. Pal played the piece only from recollection of 
 hearing Remenyi play it. This was Remenyi's own composi- 
 tion, as well as his favorite piece, and the sweet mournful notes 
 of Mr. Pal's execution brought tears to many eyes in the audience. 
 The playing by the gypsy bands of the * Lehulott a Vezgo Nyarfa 
 Levele ' (* The Summer Leaves Have Fallen ') and the * Kitettek a 
 Holtestet * (' They Took the Coffin Away ') was also very effec- 
 tive. The combined Hungarian bands were under direction of Dr. 
 Leo Sommers."] 
 
 Mr. Morris Cukor, Hungarian consul, paid 
 the following brief but eloquent tribute to his 
 late friend : 
 
 " Fellow-countrymen and friends of the departed! 
 We have not only lost an artist, a musician, we have 
 lost a man. Countrymen, we have lost a patriot who 
 swayed men by his genius and music. Hungary 
 cannot alone lay claim to owning this great man; this 
 country, in which he died as he was playing its na- 
 tional hymn, can also claim him. He loved America 
 for the freedom its people enjoy, for he was above 
 all a lover of liberty. As a musician he knew no 
 school, he knew no master but one — inspiration. 
 
DEATH-MASK OF EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
THE FUNERAL SERVICES IN NEW YORK 109 
 
 Farewell, dear Master ! Farewell, dear Remenyi! 
 We loved you living; we love you dead." 
 Recorder Goff followed Mr. Cukor and said: 
 " I am honored to be called upon from out of 
 many people of my tongue much more able than I 
 to pay a tribute to this great man and musician, Ed- 
 ouard Remenyi. From the cradle his life was full of 
 sacrifices for his country and his brethren. Remenyi 
 was not alone a great musician, but he was also a 
 great patriot. Twelve years ago, we in the United 
 States were electrified by the influence of two great 
 evangelists. One was the orator, one was the smger. 
 This was not the first time that two men of the same 
 kind had by music and oratory changed the lives of 
 individuals and the policies of nations. During the 
 Revolution of 1848, when Hungary declared herself 
 independent of Austria, there were two men who 
 awakened the country in enthusiasm for freedom and 
 liberty — Kossuth, the orator, and Remenyi the 
 musician. Remenyi died as he wished to die. Just 
 at this time when this country, from ocean to ocean, 
 is enthused with patriotism, Remenyi drew his bow 
 across his violin, and, with the notes of ' The Star 
 Spangled Banner' dying away amid thundering 
 applause, he died, as he wished to die, with his dear 
 old instrument hugged tight to his breast. 
 
 " Good-bye, Remenyi! The world is better for your 
 having lived in it. Peace, peace, to your memory! " 
 
no EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 After the funeral services the body was taken to 
 Evergreen Cemetery, where the Actors' Fund of 
 America had prepared a grave for it. The floral 
 pieces, which were many, were contributed by the 
 Hungarian Literary Society, the Yorkville Hungarian 
 Society, the Hungarian Singing Society, Colonel 
 Robert G. IngersoU, Consul General Stockinger, the 
 Hungarian Sick and Benevolent Society, Rafael 
 Joseffy, and Colonel H. J. Kowalsky,of San Fran- 
 cisco, who sent a wreath of roses. Many other 
 pieces were sent, without the names of the senders 
 on them, from various parts of the country. 
 
IV 
 
 IN MEMORIAM 
 
 REMENYI was a man of such intensity of feel- 
 ing and enthusiasm toward his adopted coun- 
 try as well as his native land that the strain was likely 
 too great, but his friends cannot but feel that his 
 death was such a one as he would have chosen — to 
 fall with his violin in his hands in the midst of a 
 burst of patriotic enthusiasm. It would be super- 
 fluous to dwell upon his musical genius or his brilliant 
 career, familiar to all through his world-wide repu- 
 tation and his mastery of that most difficult of in- 
 struments. Yet those who knew Remenyi best often 
 felt and said that great as were his attainments as a 
 violin virtuoso, they were equalled by the rare bril- 
 liancy of his mind ; his great stores of knowledge, com- 
 bined with his astonishing powers of observation and 
 his phenomenal memory. Many will remember his 
 fluency of speech and his discriminating command 
 even of foreign tongues; the magnetism which sur- 
 rounded his unique and powerful personality; the 
 fascination of his conversation, and the flashes of his 
 wit. His humor was subtle and irresistible, while 
 his store of anecdote was apparently unlimited. Six 
 
 III 
 
112 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 years of his life were spent under the same roof with 
 Victor Hugo, and he was associated with such men 
 as Liszt, Seidl, and the most famous musicians and 
 artists of this country as well as of the Continent, and 
 leading minds in literary and political circles. 
 Remenyi was an unusual connoisseur of art and its 
 history, and his private collection comprised many 
 paintings by the old masters. He wielded the pen 
 with power and unique charm and originality. Al- 
 though Remenyi was essentially a cosmopolitan, he 
 was an intense lover of Hungary, its people, its his- 
 tory, and its music. His wife is a clever and charming 
 lady of the Hungarian nobility; he leaves also two 
 children. His loss as a composer will be greatly felt, 
 as many of his own creations were beautiful and full 
 of the Hungarian fire. Chief of these may be men- 
 tioned his " Royal Hymn," dedicated to " the King 
 of Hungary" (not to the Emperor of Austria) — a 
 superb, soul-stirring, and majestic march which was 
 to have been given to the public in Budapest in a 
 few years with Remenyi as leader of orchestra and 
 chorus. 
 
 " CORVINA." 
 
V 
 
 ANECDOTES OF REMENYI 
 
 ALEXANDER PETOFI, the great Hungarian 
 poet, the Edgar Poe of Hungary, wrote a poem in 
 which he prayed to God to grant him the boon of 
 letting him die on the battlefield. In 1848 his prayer 
 was granted, as he died fighting for his country's 
 liberty. Remenyi was a great admirer of Petofi, and 
 this was his favorite poem. He always said that he 
 would also pray God to let him die on the concert 
 platform, and his prayer was also granted — for he 
 died on the stage in San Francisco 
 
 Remenyi was an intimate friend of my father's, 
 and when I first met him in the lobby of the Grand 
 Pacific Hotel, Chicago, in 1878, and introduced 
 myself, he was so delighted that he waltzed around 
 the rotunda with me, people doubtless thinking him 
 crazy. He was a great enthusiast! 
 
 Remenyi was also a great linguist. He spoke the 
 languages of nearly all civilized nations, and some 
 Hindustani, as he had travelled for a number of years 
 in India, where he also became a vegetarian. During 
 1879 we were much together in Chicago, and one 
 evening I invited him to an Italian restaurant for 
 
 113 
 
114 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 a dish of macaroni, of which he was very fond. 
 When he addressed the proprietor in his own language 
 the latter was delighted to meet a countryman. The 
 same thing occurred in a French restaurant, where 
 he was taken for a Frenchman; in a Hungarian place 
 he was at last recognized as a Hungarian. 
 
 Remenyi had a wonderful memory. He knew 
 over six hundred musical pieces by heart, many of 
 them classical. One evening we were invited to a 
 friend's house where, in Remenyi's honor, the Liese- 
 gang Quartette was playing some of Beethoven's 
 and Mozart's sonatas. The host urged Remenyi 
 to play the first violin in one of his favorite sonatas, 
 but he replied," I shall not remember it any more, I 
 think, as I have not played it for twenty-five years." 
 He took his violin, however, went over to the music- 
 stand, looked into the music, started to play, and 
 after a few bars, left the stand and played it by heart. 
 
 At South Bend he played in a concert for the bene- 
 fit of the poor, under the auspices of the Ladies' 
 Benevolent Society. The ladies presented him with a 
 fine gold watch, and it was on this occasion that he 
 first played his great " Hymn to Liberty," with a 
 mixed chorus of over one hundred voices. A year 
 previous, when he was playing in Washington, D. C, 
 the Hon. Carl Schurz, then Minister of the Interior, 
 presented him with a watch; it was a master- work of 
 art, its two outside plates being inlaid with twenty- 
 florin gold pieces of Kossuth's money of 1848. 
 
ANECDOTES OF REMENYI 115 
 
 During this same Summer I also arranged a num- 
 ber of concerts in the neighboring towns and cities, 
 for Remenyi. In Elkhart, Indiana, as he came upon 
 the stage, a young couple sat, directly in front, 
 munching peanuts. Remenyi stood with violin in 
 hand, looking at the young people and smiling. The 
 audience also looked and began to grow uneasy. 
 At last he addressed them: " Ladies and gentle- 
 men : Permit me to wait until these good people have 
 finished their peanut feast." Here some one called: 
 " Put them out ! " but Remenyi answered : " No, my 
 good friend, we cannot do that ; these people paid for 
 their seats.'' By this time, however, the poor young 
 people shamefacedly hid their peanuts and the 
 concert began. 
 
 At Niles, Michigan, while he was playing the adagio 
 in the Mendelssohn concerto, a drum-and-fife corps 
 went marching by the theatre, and Remenyi stopped. 
 Thus he waited, violin in hand, until the noise died 
 out, the band playing a tune popular at that time, 
 " Charlie, come up, I want you! " At this he raised 
 his violin to his chin and, in imitation of the flute or 
 fife, played the same tune. There was a roar of 
 laughter and applause, and after that he continued 
 his concerto. 
 
 During one of Remenyi's concert tours the follow- 
 ing interesting occurrence took place in one of the 
 coaches in the train: As we were to arrive some- 
 what late in the city where he was to play that night, 
 
ii6 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 he took his instrument from the box to tune it. A 
 young fellow who occupied the next seat saw it and 
 said: " Give us a tune, old man! " 
 
 Remenyi took in the situation at once and answered, 
 " How much do you pay ? '' 
 
 " Well, I would risk a quarter." 
 
 " Now, that is not enough. I tell you what you 
 do: I shall play for you when the train slows down 
 near the station; but, as all the other people will hear 
 it, you go around with your hat and collect ! " 
 
 " It's a go! " said the youngster, and so it was. As 
 Remenyi commenced his playing I was watching 
 the young fellow, and I must give him credit for the 
 embarrassment noticeable on his face. He certainly 
 never had heard such strains, and after Remenyi 
 finished the boy stood there highly mortified. Re- 
 menyi smilingly reminded him of his promise, and 
 shamefacedly he took his hat and went around to 
 the passengers. There were quite a number of people 
 in the car who knew Remenyi, and they laughingly 
 threw some coin or a dollar-bill into the hat. When 
 the youngster handed the hat to Remenyi he told 
 me to count the money, and I found four dollars and 
 fifty cents. He requested me to add enough from 
 the funds I was carrying for him to make it ten 
 dollars, then handed the money to the young man, 
 with the remark: 
 
 " There, my boy, are ten dollars. Take them to 
 your town and hand them to the mayor with my best 
 
ANECDOTES OF REMENYI 117 
 
 regards and tell him that Edouard Remenyi, the Hun- 
 garian fiddler, sends them to the poor of his town. " 
 
 The boy took the money reluctantly, amid the 
 applause of the people in the car. 
 
 Remenyi stayed in my house until the Fall, when 
 he left for his concert tour. In 1880 I removed to 
 Denver, Colorado, where I again invited him to visit 
 me, his answer being that he would come on the con- 
 dition that I arrange some concerts for him. I gave 
 my promise and sent an agent all through the State 
 to arrange the dates, etc. When he arrived in Den- 
 ver, Remenyi was received with a brass band at the 
 depot and with a banquet in the evening at the 
 Windsor Hotel, to which all the editors of the city 
 and some oJ0&cials and friends had been invited. His 
 concert tour through the State was one great success! 
 
 At Fort Collins the hotel porter, a big burly 
 negro, approached Remenyi when he was sitting on 
 the veranda and the following colloquy ensued: 
 
 Porter, " What do you do in the show ? " 
 
 Remenyi, " I am the endman." 
 
 P. "I thought so. Have you got some influence 
 with the boss of the show ? " 
 
 R, " I think I have a little." 
 
 P. "I thought so. Could you get some tickets 
 for me and my old woman to the show? " 
 
 R. " Maybe I could." 
 
 P. " I thought so. Try hard ! '' 
 
 P. " I will try mighty hard." 
 
ii8 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 P. "I thought SO.'' 
 
 I gave the man two passes, and as we started to the 
 Opera House I gave him the violin to carry. 
 
 " Who plays this fiddle ? " he asked. 
 
 " The endman," I said. 
 
 ^' I thought so!" 
 
 After the concert, he was in the lobby waiting for 
 us with a very long face. Remenyi handed him the 
 violin, and we walked on, he mumbling constantly. 
 At last he turned to Remenyi and said : 
 
 " You bet you fooled me! " 
 
 Remenyi, "I thought so! '' 
 
 In a mining-town in Colorado some national melo- 
 dies nearly cost him his life. The audience was mostly 
 composed of miners. When the pianist appeared 
 the talk and noise went on all the same, and all 
 through the other numbers, so that when Remenyi 
 came on there was a perfect babel of noises. He 
 labored under some disadvantage in his personal 
 appearance, being a short stout man with a com- 
 plete tonsure, looking the priest for all the world. 
 " Hello, old man! " was the cry; " give us your bless- 
 ing first!" He stood there, violin in hand, staring 
 at the people for a few minutes, and, as the noise did 
 not cease, he raised the violin to his chin and began 
 to brush over the strings as if playing. The people 
 strained their ears to listen, until perfect quiet reigned. 
 Then, with his magic tones and strains, he charmed 
 and silenced them to such a degree that you could 
 
EDOUARD REMENYI 
 ( Taken in Denver, Colorado ) 
 
ANECDOTES OF REMENYI 119 
 
 have heard a pin drop. And he played Mendels- 
 sohn's concerto. The applause was frantic. Un- 
 fortunately, however, he played his famous American 
 medley as an encore. After the finish there was a 
 howling mob, standing on chairs and using them to 
 demolish things. After repeating it three times, as 
 the noise did not cease, the manager came running 
 on to the stage to beg Remenyi to play it once again, 
 as they were breaking his furniture. Seeing the ex- 
 hausted condition of the old man, however, I ordered 
 the carriage to the stage door and as soon as he reap- 
 peared in the green room, packed him into it and 
 carried him off to the hotel. I heard afterward that 
 the miners stormed the stage and looked for him. 
 
 Remenyi was both generous and honest. In Long- 
 mont, Colorado, a poor school-teacher brought a 
 violin to the hotel and asked him to buy it. Remenyi 
 was an expert in violins, and at the first glance saw 
 it was an Amati and asked the price. The man 
 thought about twenty-five dollars would not be too 
 much. Remenyi said, " No, the violin is worth two 
 hundred dollars to me," and paid that sum, to the 
 man's great surprise. Remen3d had at one time 
 about forty valuable old violins. What became of 
 them? When he died there were only two left. 
 
 The great charm and impressiveness of Remenyi's 
 playing were wonderfully demonstrated in Toledo 
 during the festivals of the United German Singing 
 Societies of America. He was one of the soloists, 
 
I20 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 and as one of his encores he played Schubert's " Sere- 
 nade." There were about twenty thousand people 
 in the big temporary hall, and toward the close, when 
 the song dies away gradually, the mass of people be- 
 came charmed to such a breathless quietude that 
 you actually could have heard a pin drop. 
 
 Remenyi supported the talented and tried to sup- 
 press the untalented. In every city where he played 
 there were always numbers of people coming to him 
 to have him hear them play or sing. Sometimes he 
 was harsh in his judgment, sometimes sarcastic, but 
 oftener gentle. A lady with a small voice, who was 
 desirous of going on the stage, asked his judgment. 
 He answered: " Madame, if you study well, you will 
 make a good parlor singer." To many a talented 
 violinist he gave letters of recommendation to his old 
 friend Joachim, which no doubt were of high value 
 to the bearer. 
 
 Alexander Rixa. 
 
VI 
 
 FURTHER ANECDOTES OF REMENYI 
 
 AN old comrade of the Hungarian violinist wrote 
 to '' The New York Sun " in 1878: 
 " Edward Remenyi, the coming genius of harmony, 
 is a Hungarian by birth and education. He en- 
 listed as a soldier (honved) in 1848, and became an 
 aide-de-camp to General Gorgey when the later was 
 appointed commander-in-chief of the hero-army of 
 Hungary. The writer was aide-de-camp also, and 
 ranked Remenyi. We all loved and admired him 
 so much that we used to drive him away from the 
 fields of battle in order to save the world a master in 
 music. Incidentally I will mention that on the 
 eleventh day of July, when one of the bloodiest 
 Austro-Russian and Hungarian battles was fought 
 Gorgey forbade Remenyi to follow us. He did follow, 
 nevertheless, and appeared in the white heat of the 
 conflict. Gorgey, on noticing him, ordered two 
 hussars to conduct him from the field under arrest.'* 
 
 Henri Baracs, a Hungarian journalist, relates 
 the following anecdote of Remenyi and General 
 Gorgey: 
 
 121 
 
122 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 " Remenyi, at the time of the Hungarian revolution, 
 was but a young fellow, yet had already won national 
 fame as a violinist. He was a great favorite with the 
 Hungarian commander-in-chief, General Gorgey, 
 as well as with his officers and men, and his playing 
 was inspiring to the soldiers. He was with Gorgey's 
 staff on that memorable August 13, 1849, when the 
 General at Vilagos surrendered the Hungarian army 
 to the Russians. Gorgey wore on his watch-chain a 
 locket given him by his wife, which he valued highest 
 among all his earthly possessions, it was said. But 
 after the surrender the General took this locket from 
 his chain and handed it to Remenyi with the words : 
 ' Keep it, for my wife will never forgive me for what 
 I have done to-day.' '' 
 
 TiBOR Remenyi, only son of the violinist, con- 
 tributes the following incidents, some of which relate 
 to the revolutionary experiences of his father. 
 
 " In the Revolution of 1848 my father was eighteen 
 years of age and was serving General Gorgey. On 
 the day of a battle he put on a uniform resembling 
 the GeneraPs, so that the enemy might shoot him 
 rather than the latter. After that, as Gorgey liked 
 him very much, he had my father locked up on the 
 day of the next battle so that he might not risk his 
 young life. But somehow he escaped from the place 
 where he was confined, and was the first on the field. 
 
 " When he went back the second time to Hungary 
 
FURTHER ANECDOTES OF REMENYI 123 
 
 in 1 89 1 (the first time was in i860), he was greeted 
 with a reception very much Hke the one Admiral 
 Dewey had on his return to America. I was with 
 him then. Soldiers lined the streets from the depot 
 to the hotel, and my father had to make speeches. 
 I saw an old man at a way-station shake him by the 
 hand and say that now he had seen Remenyi, he 
 could die happy! 
 
 " Few people know that he came to this country for 
 the first time in the steerage, in 1850, with Kossuth. 
 He possessed very little, and to get enough to eat 
 had to play for ten cents, at Niblo's Garden, I think. 
 He once showed me where the old place was in Four- 
 teenth Street. 
 
 '* When Remenyi was in Melbourne, Australia, in 
 1884, among the singers who wanted to be heard by 
 him was a Mrs. Armstrong. She had no sooner sung 
 the first notes of Schubert's "Serenade" than he 
 was convinced of her possibilities and urged her to go 
 to Europe for study. Six years later, when Remen)ri 
 returned to Europe from a tour of the world, he often 
 spoke of Mrs. Armstrong, and wondered what had 
 become of her and her beautiful voice. One night 
 at Covent Garden, in London, where ' Romeo and 
 Juliet ' was given, as soon as Juliet came upon 
 the stage, Remenyi left his box, in a great state of 
 excitement, and went behind the scenes. When he 
 returned, the cause of his agitation was discovered: 
 * That was Mrs. Armstrong,' he exclaimed." 
 
124 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 Remenyi often told with a merry chuckle the story 
 of his first appearance in Kensington Gardens to 
 play before the Queen. Prince Albert Edward was 
 there, then but a child in kilts, and he introduced 
 himself to the young virtuoso by jumping over his 
 shoulders and demanding a game of leap-frog. 
 
 Remenyi was taken by surprise by the unexpected 
 onslaught, and before a game could be arranged 
 the royal mother interposed by a command that the 
 prince apologize for the liberty he had taken, which 
 he did eventually most humbly. Then the artist 
 offered a back, and His Highness went over with a 
 gleeful bound and rolled his dumpling body on the 
 sod in high delight. 
 
 Remenyi and the artists of his troupe visited the 
 White House, December 7, 1878, upon the invitation 
 of Mrs. Hayes, and were entertained by the Presi- 
 dent and his wife. The musical programme included 
 a Chopin nocturne and mazurka and a serenade by 
 Dulcken, performed by Remenyi; Sullivan's " Lost 
 Chord," sung by Miss Ames; Barry's song, " Saved 
 from the Storm," sung by Mr. Courtney; " The 
 Village Blacksmith," sung by Sig. Campobello; and 
 the Boccherini minuet, played by Mr. Dulcken. 
 
 The New York correspondent of " The Boston 
 Evening Telegraph " writes the following, under date 
 of January 20, 1878. 
 
FURTHER ANECDOTES OF REMENYI 125 
 
 " In the large hall of the building on Leonard 
 Street, occupied by the Italian School of the Chil- 
 dren's Aid Society, there was an amusing illustra- 
 tion, a few evenings ago, of the fondness of the young 
 Italians for music, and of its influence upon them. 
 The locality is that formerly known as the Five 
 Points, and about four hundred and fifty children 
 of ragpickers, pedlers, and laborers assembled for 
 their Christmas festival, which had been postponed. 
 If it had been generally known that Remenyi had 
 kindly offered to show these children of the land of 
 song what could be done on the violin, the audience 
 would have been uncomfortably large. As it was, 
 the hall was crowded, and after the little ones had 
 sung a hymn, and a band, composed of the older 
 scholars, had performed some selections from Verdi 
 in a style which showed a decided inclination for 
 fortissimo effects, the Hungarian violinist began to 
 exercise the magic of his art. The four hundred 
 little faces brightened as the children listened to the 
 'Elegie' of Ernst and a Chopin nocturne. M. 
 Remenyi said that he would first try the effect of 
 serious music upon these little waifs of humanity, 
 and it was curious to note the interest which they 
 showed in the tender strains he drew from his violin. 
 As he played, his juvenile audience grew more and 
 more absorbed in their attention, and when he finished 
 they greeted him with a storm of applause. But 
 when he gave them a lively air with variations and a 
 
126 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 Caprice of Paganini's, introducing some of the sur- 
 prising staccato and pianissimo effects of which he 
 is master, the young ItaHans were irrepressible in 
 their demonstrations of delight. They could not be 
 kept from rising to their feet and interrupting the 
 performance with shouts and laughter and clapping 
 of hands. The Hungarian violinist certainly never 
 had a more enthusiastic and demonstrative audience 
 of admirers than these little Italians of the Five 
 Points of New York." 
 
 REMENYl'S CONCERT ON THE PYRAMID 
 
 The " Leipziger Illustrirte Zeitung," of March 15, 
 1873, published the following account of Remenyi^s 
 playing upon the Cheops pyramid: 
 
 " On the second of last January a number of ladies 
 and gentlemen travelled from Cairo to Gizeh. 
 Among them were Edouard Remenyi, his friend and 
 companion, Ferdinand Plotenyi, General Klapka, 
 and other notables. 
 
 "After their arrival at the pyramid of Cheops, they 
 were guided by eager fellahs four hundred and fifty 
 feet upwards. The most beautiful weather favored 
 the excursion. Not a breath of air stirred the atmos- 
 phere, and pure and cloudless glistened the deep 
 blue sky. The clearest light shimmered over the 
 endless expanse of desert. The tones of music pro- 
 duced a powerful effect in the awesome stillness which 
 exists at this altitude. Remenyi played a Prelude 
 
FURTHER ANECDOTES OF REMENYI 127 
 
 of Chopin, the Hungarian Hymn by Vorosmarty, 
 known as * Szozat/ a Turkish air of his own com- 
 position, the Hungarian song 'Repulj Ferskun ' 
 (* Fly, Swallow '), the Hungarian * Hymn of Prayer ' 
 by Kolsey, and with Plotenyi a duo by Spohr. Full 
 and pure rang out the tones of the violin from the 
 summit of the pyramid — now rejoicing, now wailing 
 and trembling— to those listening reverently below. 
 Upon their descent an elaborate breakfast awaited 
 them in the vice-regal pavilion at the foot of the 
 pyramid; but all present voiced the conviction that 
 the memory of the hours they had just passed 
 through could never be effaced." 
 
 REMENYI AND THE PALM 
 
 Remenyi's admiration for the palm reached almost 
 the dignity of a cult. In one of his photographs he 
 has seated himself beneath the curving sweep of its 
 graceful branches, and in the bottom of the soft- 
 lined case of his dearest Stradivarius he always 
 carried a leaf or two from the palm. These he was 
 wont to take up or point out as he tenderly would lift 
 or replace his instrument. While in the South, a 
 year or so before his death, he said he became so 
 enthusiastic over the palm that he was impelled to 
 write a composition — the mysterious whispering of 
 the wind in its distant branches bringing a peculiar 
 music to his acute ear, which he translated in a 
 weird and beautiful manner with his violin. The 
 
128 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 finished result was a superb and varied " Habanera," 
 marked by a rhythm and a haunting minor refrain 
 which, once heard, could never be forgotten. It was in 
 strange contrast to his brilliant compositions of Hun- 
 garian fire, his classic work, or the stately " Trium- 
 phal March," composed by him for the occasion of 
 the unveiling of the statue of his beloved Mathias 
 Corvinus, King of Hungary, wherein his grandest 
 conceptions and deepest enthusiasm find an impres- 
 sive scope. The figure of Remenyi as he played 
 these compositions of his own for a few friends 
 is inseparably associated with his music. Remenyi 
 was impatient of any break in the stillness of a room 
 in which he was playing, and often he would wander 
 back and forth, his instrument in hand, his music 
 growing fainter and fainter as he moved farther 
 away, and swelling again as he returned, perhaps, 
 to lean against a table or a chair, playing with eyes 
 all but closed. At such moments his smile and the 
 play of the expressions that would pass in rapid suc- 
 cession over his features were fascinating to follow. 
 Sometimes at the end of a piece he would let his 
 bow drop noiselessly across his knees, but more fre- 
 quently, if his execution had been brilliant he would 
 close with the sweep of his bow so familiar to all 
 his friends. In one of Remenyi's personal notes his 
 love of the palm appears in his manner of signing 
 himself: 
 
FURTHER ANECDOTES OF REMENYI 129 
 
 " Thousand million greetings and thanks to my good and 
 genial friend, from her devoted Palm-tree fiddler, Edouard 
 Remenyi." 
 
 " My acquaintance with Remenyi," writes Prof. J. 
 D. Batchelder, " was but the merest meeting; yet the 
 interview has always seemed to me significant, for 
 among the few words I ever heard him speak he 
 tried to embody his life philosophy. Together with 
 a friend I called on a lady then singing with con- 
 siderable success in his company. She had been an 
 old school-chum, and we were too frivolously happy 
 in our reminiscent chattering to appreciate the honor 
 when Remenyi entered and elaborately begged for 
 an introduction. 
 
 " * I am always eager to meet young girls,' said the 
 distinguished musician; *am eager to see every- 
 thing young and free and (excuse me) beautiful. 
 All beauty is a spree to me. It is so I live my life. 
 When I see a beautiful tree, to me it is a spree. 
 When a bird sings sweetly, to me it is a spree. If a 
 ship sails well it is a spree to me. And all life and 
 all beauty and, above all, all young things — they 
 are to me sprees, yes, sprees. It is thus I keep life 
 happy when I am getting old myself, for life could 
 get very, very dreary, my dear young ladies, if one 
 did not search out the sprees.' " 
 
PART III 
 
 SKETCHES AND LETTERS 
 
PART III 
 
 SKETCHES AND LETTERS 
 
 I 
 MUSIC 
 
 OUR music is of the very highest excellence. 
 Music is, we know, the loftiest expression of 
 human feeling. It is the very essence of genuinely 
 felt idealism; it utters the unutterable; it lifts us up 
 into the regions of contemplation and pure serenity. 
 It makes our bosoms heave with satisfaction, with 
 sadness, with joy, with high resolve, with deep hu- 
 man sympathy. Its beauty consists in its absolute 
 intangibility, it escapes our average everyday analy- 
 sis, though its rules are as strict as the grammar of 
 a language, within which the poet, the writer, the 
 speaker, have immense latitude and freedom for the 
 utterance or the inspiration which fills them, but to 
 the observance of which they are strictly bound. 
 And yet how wide is the scope of language! A 
 Dante, a Shakespeare, a Demosthenes, a Cicero, a 
 Burke, a Hugo, can each give free utterance to the 
 ideal thoughts within him, in language as rich and 
 
 ^33 
 
134 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 varied as his individual genius, but they are all the 
 while restricted by the unalterable laws which govern 
 the forms and beauties of language. 
 
 Just so, music, the most ideal of arts, stands higher 
 than literature or any other art. Its three elements 
 — Rhythm, Melody, and Harmony — are a holy 
 trinity, the mystery of which we need no Saint 
 Augustin to solve, and constitute the power to stir 
 up the feelings of the innermost spirit to a degree 
 that no other art can approach. Why this is I can- 
 not answer, neither can anyone define with absolute 
 certainty what is love, or sleep, or taste. But we feel 
 its power, just as we see with our eyes, — no, not with 
 our eyes, properly speaking, but the outer vibration 
 reverberates in us through those little spiritual win- 
 dows, and so music (which is vibration, too,) reaches 
 us through our hearing. But how? We know not. 
 As Shakespeare says, there are many things in 
 heaven and earth not dreamt of in our philosophy. 
 We need not trouble ourselves with the primordial 
 causes of music or any other indefinable metaphysical 
 or psychological matter. We hear music, but how the 
 physical proceeding is effected and how the physical 
 causes which put our tympana into vibrational mo- 
 tion reach our spirit does not matter. We hear, and 
 are elated. 
 
n 
 
 POPULAR MUSIC 
 
 IN crossing the Pacific from San Francisco to 
 Sydney, a highly cultured literary man re- 
 marked to me that it was very condescending on my 
 part to play, from time to time, popular melodies at 
 my concerts. I underline the word condescending, 
 as it is the pivotal column of what I have to say. 
 The gentleman was not a musician, and my answer 
 was somewhat as follows: 
 
 **My dear friend, I am, as you say, very often 
 asked to play, at my concerts, some popular melody 
 famiHar to all, and the request is generally accom- 
 panied by excuses for trespassing on the threshold 
 of Art's sacred temple by expressing such a wish. 
 In the first place, when I play popular melodies, I 
 choose only such as have intrinsic musical value, 
 but should people request me to play some trashy 
 piece, even if popular, which sometimes happens, 
 I simply refuse to comply; but I never refuse to 
 play a familiar popular melody, if good. Let me 
 further explain myself: The domain of Art is in- 
 finite. It may have a beginning, but most certainly 
 has no end. It is infinite, and the best an artist 
 
 135 
 
136 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 can do is to be meek. In that vast domain of musical 
 literature are, of course, included the national airs 
 and dancing tunes of all countries and nations, 
 civilized, semi-civilized, and barbarous. The richest 
 nations in this respect are the Spanish, Scotch, Irish, 
 English, German, Scandinavian, and Hungarian. 
 The popular melodies and dance tunes of these na- 
 tions are marvellously abundant. Some of the com- 
 posers of these remarkable melodies are known, but 
 by far the greater part of them are devoid of known 
 parentage. But what of that? They belong to the 
 nation. We may not know who planted a flower; 
 the seed fell into the ground and lo! we behold a 
 beautiful object with its exquisite fragrance. We 
 view with delight the splendid oak. Who planted 
 it? It does not matter. We see a graceful and 
 majestic palm. Where does it come from ? We do 
 not know. And so it is mostly with the popular 
 national melodies and dance tunes; they grow, so to 
 speak, and we musicians rejoice in them. We hear 
 and discriminate their beauties. The people who 
 know them almost as well as their mother-tongue, 
 and love them intuitively, fail to give them (because 
 of their familiarity) the importance they so richly 
 deserve, constituting, as they really do, one of the 
 brightest ornaments and most faithful expressions 
 of their nationality and characteristic individuality. 
 But, as discriminating power is not given to every- 
 body, all these airs are generally dumped into the 
 
POPULAR MUSIC 137 
 
 same basket, good and bad together. Now, as there 
 is bad, good, and magnificent literature; bad, good, 
 and magnificent painting, and so forth, in every 
 branch of art, so there are mediocre and absolutely 
 bad popular melodies; and then, again, there are 
 good, fine, grand, and even sublime ones. 
 
 " I repeat, the composers, especially of the old ones 
 are unknown. They were probably composed in 
 a moment of inspiration. Let me name at random 
 a few of the most perfect gems to be found among 
 the Scotch national airs, known to almost everybody. 
 ' Auld Lang Syne' — a dear old song, without which 
 friendly gatherings among EngHsh-speaking people 
 all over the globe would lose much of their charm. 
 How frank and straightforward is its flowing melody! 
 ^Ye Banks and Braes' — how it fascinates us with 
 its exquisitely smooth and lyric strains! ' Auld 
 Robin Grey,' a melody worthy of Beethoven; 
 'Scots, Wha Hae,' with its rugged and solemn an- 
 tique grandeur; * Charlie is my Darling,' with its 
 spirit-stirring joUity; * The Campbells are Com- 
 ing,' with its savage clannish majesty; 'John 
 Anderson, my Jo,' evidently an old Gregorian mel- 
 ody, simple, gloomy, and grand. I could name 
 many others, perfect ones too, Scotch, Irish, and 
 English, and of other nations. All of these melodies 
 I have named have absolute, intrinsic, musical value; 
 they are perfect gems, — in reahty, tuneful poems. 
 'The Last Rose of Summer,' with its melancholy, 
 
138 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 fragrant sweetness; 'Silent, O Moyle/ with its 
 inconsolable sadness; 'The Harp that Once through 
 Tara's Halls/ which tells so much of bygone glory; 
 and others, and again others, are all magnificent 
 melodic pearls which Erin can wear, with pride, in 
 her diadem. 
 
 " Then, again, those innumerable gay, half-merry, 
 half-sad, sturdy and jolly tunes in Papa BulPs song- 
 halls! What beautiful strains we possess in his 
 glees, madrigals, merry songs, and jolly, jolly horn- 
 pipes! Don't laugh — those hornpipe dancing tunes 
 are very fine, a thousand times finer and better 
 than thousands of pale-faced uncharacteristic com- 
 positions of our own day. What wealth you possess 
 in those melodic mines! Let me name the English 
 national anthem, 'God Save the Queen' (or King). 
 Has not its strain the simple simplicity (excuse this 
 pleonasm), the grandeur of a Doric temple? They 
 say it was composed by a Dr. Bull. Maybe ; but 
 nobody knows exactly who was the composer of 
 this air; yet how admirably it expresses English 
 loyalty (permit me to express it thus); it adapts 
 itself wonderfully to John BuUism. You may 
 wonder at my mentioning so many national tunes. 
 I omitted to mention the terribly popular 'Home, 
 Sweet Home.' I did it on purpose; which is, that 
 it is not a national melody at all. It is an importa- 
 tion, and not a happy one either. It is not English, 
 not American, though the words were written by 
 
POPULAR MUSIC 139 
 
 Payne, an American. The music to Payne's words 
 was adapted by Sir Henry Bishop, but never com- 
 posed by him. It is an old, very mediocre SiciHan 
 air, and was first sung, I believe, in 1839 or there- 
 abouts, in an opera called 'The Maid of Milan,' 
 in London. The prima donna who sang it first 
 must have sung it very well, and must have been 
 very beautiful, to have been able to nationalize into 
 English this by no means brilliant Sicilian melodic 
 importation. But, of course, the words helped to 
 make the melody go down, just as the good sauce 
 does the bad fish; and, as I said before, people are 
 not always happily discriminating in art matters; 
 so it remains, nevertheless, a very mediocre musical 
 utterance. I hope you will not kill me for daring to 
 destroy its undeserved halo. You can be sure I 
 never play it, but what of that? You can boast of 
 a host of other popular melodies; you do not need 
 this one. Give me those unbiassed magnificent 
 English, Scotch, and Irish musical gems, and I 
 am their fervent admirer. What is the * Mar- 
 seillaise '* but a God-inspired melodic flash, begotten 
 in a moment of exalted patriotic frenzy? It could 
 never have been composed and conceived in a 
 normal time — never. Rouget de ITsle, its com- 
 poser, was a very middling musician and a tolerably 
 bad poet; still, he wrote both the music and words of 
 this heroic strain. About thirty-two years after, in 
 a time of political calm, he composed another French 
 
140 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 anthem — fortunately for his fame but Httle known, 
 for this anthem is just as bad as the * Marseillaise ' is 
 absolutely sublime and grand. And what shall I 
 say about our own Hungarian march, the march of 
 marches — the ^Racokzy March' ? The composer of 
 this is also unknown, and hence I suppose it was 
 expressly composed for the Hungarians by an arch- 
 angel, in a heavenly leisure hour, and sent down by 
 some mysterious agency in order that they might 
 have a celestial grand martial strain for any emer- 
 gency; and, I assure you, it fits admirably to the 
 Hungarian idea of fervent patriotism. The arch- 
 angel composer in the heavenly spheres ought to 
 have had the great gold medal for having bestowed 
 upon the Hungarians such a heroic strain. ( I won- 
 der if they wear gold medals there, where King 
 David seems to be the musical director.) " 
 
 Now for parenthesis. Hardly had I finished my 
 eulogy upon our own Hungarian national march, 
 '^The March of Racokzy," when my gentleman 
 friend surprised me by asking if the ** Carnival of 
 Venice" is really a popular tune, and if it had any 
 musical value. My reply was: "Most certainly, 
 the tune itself is a popular melody, and a good one 
 too; but what on earth it has got to do with Venice 
 is more than I can tell you. First, the melody is 
 about two hundred years old ; then it is not Venetian 
 at all, but a Neapolitan canzonetta, ' O Cara Man- 
 nina Mia.' Its melody was, I believe, varied by 
 
POPULAR MUSIC 141 
 
 Locatelli, a great Italian violin virtuoso, before 
 Paganini, who also wrote variations upon it. 
 So did Ernst and many others; and you may amuse 
 yourself, my friend, making two billion variations, 
 if you like, — there is no limit to its possibilities. 
 But will the variations be good, that is the ques- 
 tion. If good, good; if bad, bad. But the melody 
 is certainly a good one and adapts itself admirably 
 to variations, having only two chords in it, which 
 two chords alternate with imperturbable regularity 
 on the tonica and the dominante. I myself play 
 it very often, but I must tell you at once that I never 
 yet wrote down a single one of my variations. I 
 always improvise them before the audience, never 
 playing them twice alike, and before commencing 
 to play, generally commend myself to the good will 
 and charity of some musical guardian angel not to 
 leave me in the lurch." 
 
 After this digression, let me resume my remarks 
 upon popular melodies. Great masters also treated 
 and developed them in their immortal works. 
 What is Chopin's music but the very quintessence 
 of his own Pohsh national feeling, in which his 
 whole grand musical soul tells us so eloquently of 
 the sufferings of his dearly beloved Poland? And 
 what is Schubert's music but the Olympian and 
 Elysian expression of the sublime folk-song ? Schu- 
 mann, in his imperishable compositions, is but the 
 
142 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 highest expression of his aphoristic, philosophic, and 
 lyric German heart and soul. Weber's immortal 
 "Freischiitz" is but a gigantic national Teutonic 
 outpouring of his musically lyric soul. One of 
 Mendelssohn's very best inspirations is a veritable 
 Volkslied in his "Lieder ohne Worte.'' Haydn 
 harmonized a great many Scotch melodies ; and is 
 he not the composer of the wonderful Austrian 
 national hymn? Had he composed nothing but 
 this melody, he would have a claim to immortality. 
 
 I could quote many more examples among the 
 great tone-masters to corroborate my statements. 
 
 Take French musical literature: Are Auber, Her- 
 old, Mehul, Boieldieu, and Gounod in his "Faust," 
 anything but transcendental musical expressions 
 of their nationality? Or among the Italians, Ca- 
 rissimi, Monteverde, Leo, Rossini, Bellini, Donizetti, 
 Verdi, and others, — are they not the national 
 expression of their Latin race? And Glinka, — 
 the Russian composer, is he not the vox populi of 
 his own nation? And so on ad infinitum. But 
 permit me to name one more — Beethoven, the 
 Shakespeare of music! Did not he, this musical 
 Jupiter, treat and develop Russian popular airs and 
 dance music in his wonderful string quartettes 
 (opus 59)? And what are, after all, the themes in 
 his great symphonies but the heaven-born folk-songs 
 of his deeply feeling big heart ? Did n't he say him- 
 self that he felt only with the people and through 
 
POPULAR MUSIC 143 
 
 the people, and did he not give the highest, the very 
 highest, artistic expression possible to those feelings, 
 just as Michel Angelo did in his imperishable works? 
 What name shall we give the andante movement in 
 the Seventh Symphony, and to the Choral Fantasia, 
 written for piano, chorus, and orchestra? What is 
 the last allegro in the Fifth Symphony but a popular 
 heavenly outburst of the most exalted triumph, — a 
 theme as simple as it is grand, — in fact, which could 
 not be simpler? All is expressed and magnificently 
 built up upon the two most elementary chords — 
 the tonica and dominante. And what is the last 
 melody in the Finale of the Ninth Symphony, this 
 crowning glory in musical literature, but, as I said 
 before, the heaven-bom folk-songs of his deep, 
 grand soul ? It is nothing else, and that is enough. 
 But how does the great master treat and develop 
 his folk-song, that is the question. The artist 
 must know how to set a jewel; he must know how 
 to enhance its beauties a thousand-fold. In one 
 word, he must be an artist, and must know his art 
 thoroughly. Yes, in the treatment and artistic 
 development of a subject lies the secret. Forma dat 
 esse ret. As an instance, let me mention your own 
 Shakespeare, who, to me, is a greater wonder than 
 even the Himalaya Mountains. He, in " Othello " 
 lays down the nucleus of his powerful drama in these 
 seemingly insignificant few lines: 
 
 Senator. Adieu, brave Moor! use Desdemona well. 
 
144 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 Brahantio, Look to her, Moor, if thou hast eyes to see. 
 She has deceived her father, and may thee. 
 
 Othello. My life upon her faith! Honest lago, 
 My Desdemona must I leave to thee. 
 
 This is all. This is his folk-song. But how does 
 the great giant poet treat and develop this seemingly 
 simple thesis? It is very simple. He does it with 
 such a master-spirit that it baffles description. It 
 can be read, heard, felt, and admired, but hardly 
 described. A complete physiological and psycholog- 
 ical analysis would be required to give an adequate 
 idea of his treatment of this simple theme. Vol- 
 umes could be written on this one drama of the 
 immortal bard, and have been. Let me continue. 
 When one artist, who knows what he is about, 
 takes up a worthy popular national melody, he 
 must show his appreciation of the gem he intends 
 to set, by doing it conscientiously and artistically. 
 If such melody is purely national, he must now lose 
 sight of its redundant national fragrance, and at the 
 same time must be able not to lose touch with the 
 people. It must not be a mixture composition. It 
 must not be as if I said: ^^Voulez-vous, my dear sir, 
 mir un biochiero di aqua gebuc ? " You will admit 
 it would be much more sensible to say, simply, 
 " My dear sir, will you give me a glass of water ? " 
 
 Before finishing I must yet say a few things to 
 complete the argument. People very often excuse 
 these wonderful melodies, and say to me, "You 
 
POPULAR MUSIC 145 
 
 know, it is only a simple air." Yes, I know; but 
 you may as well excuse a tiny flower on the ground 
 of its being a flower, or a beautiful woman on the 
 ground of her being a woman. And further, you 
 must know that Schubert, Mozart, and Beethoven 
 never wrote any but simple melodies when they wrote 
 melodies at all. You must never lose sight of this 
 simple statement, and keep this eternal truth con- 
 tinually in mind. 
 
 Again, some people insult these melodies by calling 
 them *' pretty." This word is really an outrage, 
 applied to these gems. A ballad or any other song 
 without special or intrinsic value or individual 
 character, written without any idea whatsoever, — 
 in fact, a compilation and not a composition, — those 
 ballads written by thousands of pale-faced or rosy- 
 cheeked fashionable composers, may be called 
 "pretty," I do not care, but not these imperishable 
 melodies! No, never! They are grand, and only 
 this word well expresses their value — grand in their 
 simplicity. Therefore, for heaven's sake, my dear 
 friend, do not excuse these simple national melodies. 
 They need no excuses — all they need is admiration, 
 which they so well deserve. Take my word for it, 
 they are a much greater and imperishable treasure 
 to a nation than even its national wealth. Banks 
 can, and do, and will, fail, but these transcendent 
 melodies will never fail, never die. 
 
 Remember what it was that remained of the 
 
146 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 Greeks and Romans and other fallen nations. Was 
 it not their art, literature, and philosophy? These 
 treasures still exist, whereas all the rest is gone, gone, 
 gone! 
 
 Forewarned, forearmed; and, my friend, you 
 are forewarned by me against using such an inappro- 
 priate expression as ^^condescending to play such 
 tunes. " On the contrary, I honor myself by playing 
 these melodies when I choose to do so, and by ascend- 
 ing with them ad astra as high as I can! Dixi et 
 salvavi animam meant. 
 
m 
 
 HINDU MUSIC 
 
 WHILE on the subject of music, it may interest 
 the music-loving reader, and also show my 
 impartiality, to read an article which I wrote for the 
 Calcutta Daily Englishman, It was about Hindu 
 music, and I wrote two or three times on this most 
 interesting subject. This will suffice to give an 
 insight into what I had to say, and I am quite will- 
 ing to acknowledge the beautiful whenever good 
 fortune brings me in contact with it, and however 
 strange it may seem to my previous European 
 notions. I give the extract in full from the Daily 
 Englishman: 
 
 "We have received from M. Remenyi, the emi- 
 nent Hungarian violinist, an account of a visit to the 
 Bengal Academy of Music, which will be read with 
 special interest by all who have given any atten- 
 tion to what Sir William Ivens calls *the Musical 
 Modes of the Hindus.' It is surprising how little 
 has been added to our knowledge of Gaudhama- 
 Veda since Captain Willard published his treatise 
 on the music of Hindustan, in the viceroyalty of 
 Lord W. Bentmck. Doubtless much has been 
 
 147 
 
148 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 written on Hindu music in the interval. The 
 Maharajah Lorindro Mohun Tagore has placed the 
 literature of the subject before the world in a series 
 of works of permanent value, and has devoted his 
 time and fortune to the establishment of the conser- 
 vatory with which his name will always be identified. 
 But the alleged beauty and value of the art are 
 about as far removed as ever from a general recogni- 
 tion among Europeans. It is known that the system 
 of notation introduced into European music by 
 Guido d'Arezzo early in the eleventh century came 
 originally from India, and is upwards of two thou- 
 sand years old; that we have here preserved in a 
 living state some of the archaic musical forms of 
 Greece; and that there was an Augustan age of 
 Hindu music prior to the time of the Mohammedan 
 dynasties. But when it comes to actual appreciation 
 of famous Hindu melodies, the European student 
 is at a loss. 
 
 "All the sympathy and appreciation which have 
 been bestowed upon the art of men like Bosanquet, 
 Carl Engel, Dr. Bumell, and Isaac Rice, the pianist, 
 do not help us here. To be honest, Hindu music 
 is not music to the ordinary European ear, and 
 we utterly fail to enter into the enjoyment of the 
 Hindu audience, even while we can speak with 
 deference of the antiquity of the art and the elabora- 
 tion of the system upon which it is founded. This, 
 we believe, is the popular view, fairly stated, and it is 
 
HINDU MUSIC 149 
 
 now possible to see how far this uncultured opinion 
 is wide of the mark. We have long waited for the 
 critical opinion of a skilled musician, who was also a 
 musical authority, and that opinion we now have 
 received. But we must leave M. Remenyi to de- 
 scribe in his own words what he saw and heard at 
 the Conservatory of Music. M. Remenyi says: 
 
 **'To begin with, it must be understood that I 
 have no idea of gushing in what I have to say, al- 
 though I shall have to write in terms of admiration. 
 To deal fully with Hindu music would require 
 volumes, but I must here content myself with giving 
 my unbiassed opinion, as a musician and student of 
 music, on the subject, as far as it is yet known to me. 
 And I must, in the first place, bear my humble 
 testimony to the value of the work that is being 
 done by the Rajah Lorindro Mohun Tagore, the 
 resuscitator of a nearly lost art, — for art it un- 
 doubtedly is, and a very fine art, too. This I say 
 to those who may think there is no such thing as 
 Hindu music. Arriving in India, and eagerly ask- 
 ing for such music, I constantly heard of only two 
 melodies, "Taza-be-Taza," and "Hili-mili-Pania." 
 I say at once that, hearing them, I did not go into 
 raptures about their beauty, nor believe in their very 
 questionable — musically questionable — Eastern 
 origin. Both of these melodies have a smack of 
 Belati (European) flavor and savor. Besides, each 
 person who sang them to me, sang them entirely 
 
ISO EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 different, and so I had to give up all hope of ever 
 correctly knowing those two Hindu tunes. At first, 
 it seemed to me that this was tout le bagage musicale 
 that I was to gather during my short stay in India. 
 But, fortunately for me, I received a few days ago, a 
 pressing invitation from the Rajah Lorindro to pay 
 him a visit and hear some real ancient Hindu music. 
 This was indeed welcome! I did not even inquire 
 if he spoke English, — which he does well, — knowing 
 that if he was a real musician we should understand 
 each other, with pen in hand and some music-paper 
 at our disposal. And I did use music-paper and 
 pen, but only to illustrate musically, and, of course, 
 entirely after our own European musical system, the 
 highly interesting conversation I had with the 
 learned Rajah. But the music! There could be 
 no doubt about that! Music it was, and delightful 
 it was to listen to all those melodies, entirely new to 
 me — a melodic and rhythmical revelation. Arriv- 
 ing at the Rajah^s residence, I saw, besides a multi- 
 tude of servants and others, a native sentry with 
 musket on his shoulder, and clad entirely in the uni- 
 form of a British soldier. This did not savor much 
 of musical learning. I was announced to the Rajah, 
 and in a few moments was shown into the interior. 
 Reaching the first floor, I immediately saw a gentle- 
 man in a small room, sitting at a writing-table. It 
 was the Rajah, and he greeted me in the most friendly 
 manner. He is the very personification of inborn 
 
HINDU MUSIC 151 
 
 politeness and affability, and as I soon saw was a 
 scholar, and thoroughly in earnest about Hindu 
 music. 
 
 " * We musicians have but one language all over the 
 world, and that the language of intervals — musical 
 sounds which bear such and such proportion to each 
 other; and that is the reason why musicians — I 
 mean theorists — understand each other, irrespec- 
 tive of spoken language. 
 
 " * During the conversation, a fine-looking young 
 man stepped in, and the Rajah introduced him as his 
 son, Pramod Kumar Tagore. On my right was a 
 small room, where a few native gentlemen sat on the 
 floor, examining musical instruments. Behind the 
 Rajah was a big glass case full of Japanese instru- 
 ments, a present from the Mikado. To my left, on 
 an antique bench was seated a very intelligent look- 
 ing middle-aged man, in strictly Hindu attire. 
 This gentleman, who was introduced to me as Babu 
 Kali Prasanna Banerjie (Master of Music), looked 
 more like a Hungarian — that is, a countryman of 
 mine — than a Bengali. He spoke Enghsh fluently, 
 as did also the son of the Rajah. The Rajah 
 played upon a kind of hybrid Hindu setar. Kali 
 Prasanna Banerjie had a genuine Hindu setar in 
 his hands, as long in shape as the one which the 
 goddess of Hindu music and learning, Saraswati, is 
 represented as holding. It seemed to me, also, that 
 this legendary Hindu goddess spread her protecting 
 
152 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 wings over the heads of the two musicians while 
 executing their rhapsody. I was simply charmed, 
 and gave free expression to my pleasure. I listened 
 with the greatest pleasure and attention to this 
 genuine music, — music untouched by foreign in- 
 fluence, — and everything became perfectly clear and 
 intelligible to me. 
 
 " * So true it is in art, that the highest is always the 
 simplest. Goethe is right in saying, "Poor art no 
 one can understand; good true art, and all can under- 
 stand well." 
 
 " ' The duet went on for about a quarter of an 
 hour, and I could discern with perfect clearness all the 
 intervals which we find in our music, and also in 
 the old Grecian gamuts, the Lydian, Phrygian, 
 Doric, and others. There was also the plaintive 
 special scale, with its augmented fourth, ascending 
 and descending. 
 
 " * The melodies sounded to me as clear and as 
 intelligible as any of our own Hungarian melodies, 
 known to me since childhood. 
 
 " * The Rajah played the principal part, and he 
 played like a consummate master of his art. Babu 
 Kali Prasanna Banerjie accompanied him like a 
 superb virtuoso, and I guessed at once that he was 
 improvising in his accompaniments the most intri- 
 cate counterpoint — yes, counterpoint, and good 
 counterpoint it was. There was no mistake about 
 that. And thus to my utter amazement I discovered 
 
HINDU MUSIC 153 
 
 during their fine performance that Hindu music is 
 founded absolutely on the same basis as our own 
 European music, which, by the way, came also from 
 the East. It is founded on the tonica, subdomi- 
 nante, and dominante chords. I noted down the 
 most striking features of the music and my notes 
 were found perfectly correct by the Rajah. After this 
 an incident of a very interesting character occurred. 
 I wanted to express musically my gratitude to 
 the Rajah for his kindness, and I begged his 
 son to dictate to me, at random, four intervals. 
 He did not catch my idea at first, but a word or 
 two put us right, and he dictated to me four inter- 
 vals just as they occurred to him. Upon those 
 four notes I composed and wrote down a strictly 
 correct Hungarian melody, which the Rajah and his 
 son read and sang perfectly. Now, this was not 
 only an acknowledgment, on my part, of the kind 
 reception they had accorded me, but also — how 
 shall I say it? — a kind of musical trap. In short, 
 I wanted to see if the Rajah or his son could music- 
 ally communicate this improvised Hungarian mel- 
 ody to Babu Kali Prasanna Banerjie, and to my 
 delight and surprise the Rajah copied my five- 
 line written melody, with all its rhythmical inter- 
 punctuation, on one line^ with a kind of abracadabra 
 hieroglyphics, and then Babu Kali played my 
 Hungarian air at once, and correctly. My musical 
 trap did not succeed. 
 
154 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 " *Now, to sum up all this, what do I mean to 
 affirm ? I would affirm, first, that our music comes 
 from the East; secondly, that the Hindu music in 
 its present state is just where our music was in the 
 fifteenth century, when the genius of a Palestrina 
 flashed in and put order into the Gregorian Modes 
 which had come from the East. Palestrina is the 
 veritable founder of our own European music, which 
 was developed up to the eighteenth century with such 
 wonderful progression, until at last the seeds which 
 Palestrina planted have grown into a luxuriant forest. 
 To drop the metaphor: We find music represented 
 in the eighteenth century by the genius of a Sebastian 
 Bach; and a little later we come to Beethoven, our 
 musical Jupiter. Now, I arrive at this simple con- 
 clusion. There is, when all is said, only an interval 
 of some four centuries between Palestrina and 
 Beethoven, a short period for such a development; 
 and may not, then, a Hindu Palestrina come to the 
 rescue of the ancient art of his country? From 
 the simple Gregorian chant we pass to the wonderful 
 polyphonic beauties of Beethoven's symphonies, and 
 may not the beautiful melodies of India be the be- 
 ginning of a new art departure? The good seed is 
 here, the good soil is here, and all it wants is the 
 care of the cultivator. The good Rajah Lorindro 
 is the prophet of this, for us, new art. I hope with 
 all my heart that followers will flock to his banner 
 
HINDU MUSIC 155 
 
 and take care not to undervalue the importance of 
 his highly interesting musical movement. 
 
 "*A last word: Some people, not musicians, of 
 course, said to me that all this music is only an in- 
 vention of recent date. Now, I vouch for it with 
 all my musical soul and all my modest knowledge, 
 that this is not so. 
 
 " ' But what if it were ? Everything in art has had 
 a humble beginning, and if you would show me 
 that this music was the creation of yesterday, it 
 would not affect my opinion of its genuine intrinsic 
 value. Criticism of this kind would cut at the 
 foundation of all art. If this spirit had been 
 allowed to tyrannize over men, there would have 
 been an end of all art, and the world would never 
 have known a Beethoven, a Gluck, a Mozart, a 
 Haydn, a Bach, a Chopin. 
 
 " * Has musical genius been given only to one or 
 other of the nations? No! Genius is a law to 
 itself, and is confined to no nation or country. In 
 conclusion, I have only to express my sincere thanks 
 to the Rajah for the musical revelation with which 
 he delighted me, and which I am sure will yet delight 
 many a musical scholar in critical Europe.' '' 
 
IV 
 
 AMERICAN VERSUS EUROPEAN 
 CIVILIZATION* 
 
 I DO not know if my letters are intensely interesting, 
 as you kindly state in your letter, but I know 
 that I have a " bone to pick " with you ; — this is what 
 I call gratitude with a vengeance. You dare to write 
 in your letter: " We can only hope that by the time 
 we return again to earth, say fifteen thousand years 
 hence, the American people may have caught up 
 with the people of Europe of three hundred years 
 ago." Now, how do you dare to speak thusly and so 
 disparagingly about the Americans ? Don't you know 
 yet that I am more of a Yankee, and in certain cases 
 even a " Sah" of the South, than are all the Americans 
 put together? I have enough American patriotism 
 in me to counterbalance easily the rest of the seventy- 
 four million Americans put together, and my patriot- 
 ism is of a reasoning and a logical sort, barring the 
 sentimental part of it altogether. First, I like 
 Beethoven, Michael Angelo, and Shakespeare be- 
 cause they are not only immensely broad, pyramidal 
 and Himalayan in their own (chosen art) expression, 
 
 * This and the following extracts are mainly from Remenyi's corre- 
 spondence. — Edr, 
 
 156 
 
CIVILIZATION 157 
 
 but because they surmise even more than their 
 dramatic, sculptural, and musical expressions seem 
 to contain. So this America, and the Americans in 
 America, is a nation of all possibilities, which we are 
 not any more in the Old Country. We are passe; 
 we are obliged to put on poudre and rouge to keep 
 up a seeming youth which is not ours any more; we 
 live in the present upon the glory of our not always 
 glorious past, whereas, with you Americans, you 
 constituted yourselves into a commonwealth and 
 into a nation under much more soothing, civilizing 
 possibilities. Your fathers are the Washingtons, 
 the Tom Paines, the Jeffersons, the Hamiltons, 
 the Jacksons, the Minute Men, the profoundly pa- 
 triotic Patrick Henrys, not to mention other con- 
 stellations, whereas our civilization emerged from 
 absolute darkness. Europe was base enough to let 
 the Pericles most glorious period submerge into the 
 most base Byzantinism, and waddled in fanatic jerks 
 and jumps through useless crusades and most gloomy 
 and guttery ignorance into the Dark Ages, from 
 which dark ages a Dante was the first beacon-light 
 which followed the brilliant torch of the highly 
 civilized Moor. Then science was forced down the 
 throat of ignorant Christian Europe by the Moslem 
 Moor. The sublimely sublime works of art of the 
 Moors were then destroyed piecemeal by the Chris- 
 tians in Spain, who also destroyed their unique and 
 fine architectural monuments and annihilated their 
 
158 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 scientific academies. Poor, stupid, superannuated, 
 degenerated Spain has to thank the Moors for the 
 few high schools, academies, and universities which 
 she still can boast. How every bad action comes 
 back with a vengeance to the originator ! Every edu- 
 cated and unprejudiced Spaniard must feel the con- 
 sequences of the unheard-of crimes of the twelfth, 
 thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries, and Spain's 
 idiotic colonial policy. 
 
 We emerged from such civilization, whereas your 
 civilization emerged (fortunately for you) from a 
 very magnificent school of philosophy, the philosophy 
 of the eighteenth century, which, because of prej- 
 udices, could not be realized in Europe, whereas 
 you made the most of it here. 
 
 Now to return, after this long awful yarn, why 
 have la" bone to pick '' with you? It is because 
 you dare to put fifteen thousand years to arrive and 
 to catch up with the European peoples where they 
 were three hundred years ago! Not much! 
 
 P. S. I don't know if I did forget in my to-day's 
 letter, to say that afterwards Christian Europe came 
 down to the most brutish ignorance. The Moslem 
 Moors were obliged to force their fine science and 
 civilization with the Moorish spear, and this happened 
 in the twelfth, thirteenth, and fourteenth centuries, 
 and the Christian civilized people, especially the Span- 
 iards, murdered them or drove them away. How 
 piteously a proud, stupidly proud, nation pays the 
 
CIVILIZATION 159 
 
 penalty of its overbearingness when it was seemingly 
 in good Itick! And how idiotically do the Spaniards 
 behave to the very end of the chapter in their Cuban 
 policy! A chicken ought to have more sense than 
 they show. But pride always precedes the fall. 
 
ITALY AND THE GOLDEN ERA OF THE 
 RENAISSANCE 
 
 WITH the impressions I received in my travel- 
 lings during these three weeks, the thoughts 
 I gathered in my poor brain during this time, and 
 the lovely, lovely, lovely country I went through in 
 New York, Pennsylvania, and Ohio, — I say with 
 those impressions I could fill volumes to the utter 
 discomfiture of humanity in general and you in par- 
 ticular! But I will do no such thing. I will give 
 simply my loving duty of weekly instalment, and try 
 to be as simple and unostentatious as possible. 
 Some benighted epochs, eras, in certain countries, 
 almost have epidemics in begetting geniuses. Take, 
 for an illustration, the Italian blessed epidemic which 
 began in the thirteenth century with Dante, Cimabue, 
 and Fra Andrea; and what an outcome from these 
 three workers! They worked almost day and night, 
 and through their work what a Milky Way of artistical 
 blessing they left to poor ungrateful humanity! 
 
 Just think of it! The whole Italian peninsula, 
 not mentioning its innumerable museums and 
 churches replete with masterpieces, is full of artistic 
 
 i6o 
 
RENAISSANCE i6i 
 
 inspiration. Each separate town is an architectural 
 revelation of its own. Pisa does not resemble Venice. 
 Venice does not resemble Rome, Rome does not 
 look like Florence, neither do Genoa, Urbina, 
 Ferrara, Pesaro, Sienna, Rimini, Verona, Modena, 
 Cremona, Bergamo, Palermo, Brescia, or Naples 
 look like any other city. In fact, the smallest village 
 has its very own physiognomy, and is filled, privately 
 and publicly, with artistic revelations. In fact, from 
 Trentino in Tyrol down almost to Africa (Girgenti) 
 everything is a " thing of beauty and a joy forever." 
 And this is not all ! Not only have the Italians shown 
 their own country what real, undefiled, honestly felt 
 and begotten Art is and means, but, look all over 
 the world, all the museums are full of their works! 
 
 If the present degenerated Italian population were 
 nothing but cut-throats, thieves, murderers, and so 
 forth, I would absolve them from their crimes as be- 
 ing the lineal descendants of Romans, Etrurians, 
 Greeks, and Tuscans. I almost regret that Rem- 
 brandt, Diirer, Gerard Douw, Franz Hals, Van Dyck, 
 and Rubens do not belong to the Italians. 
 
 Now isn't it almost blinding for a man of keen 
 appreciation to behold such a pageantry of geniuses? 
 For a man who feels their conception, their art, a 
 thousand lives would not suffice to appreciate and 
 to know them fully. If I were a young man, my 
 highest and keenest delight would be to travel with 
 one like you and to explain and to be his cicerone, 
 
i62 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 through the glorious peninsula; but such halcyon 
 days are out of question ! 
 
 Now, to touch a touchy question, I wonder what 
 such a man as Ghiberti or Michael Angelo or the di- 
 vine architects who conceived the Doge Palace, the 
 St. Marcus Church, the Cathedrals of Milan and 
 Certosa, .... what would those divine architects 
 say to a five or ten million dollar monstrous mon- 
 strosity like some of the palaces in New York ? They 
 would say that the architects had plenty of money, 
 splendid materials, magnificent engineering and 
 machines, fine conception of almost heavenly com- 
 fort, but devilishly poor architectural ideas, and the 
 more's the pity. Such monstrous landmarks are 
 going to stay almost for ages. 
 
VI 
 
 ARCHITECTURE PAST AND PRESENT 
 
 THE Riverside Drive in New York is glorious 
 and a most comfortable sight; but, pardon me, 
 I like better the dirtiest unobserved corner of Venice 
 in its full decay, than all the boulevards here in the 
 new country and over there in the old country. 
 There is more genuine artistic inspiration and 
 heavenly dirt (pardon the expression) in a few feet 
 of a calle (street) in Venice, than there is in a hun- 
 dred miles of the boulevards of New York, Berlin, 
 or Vienna, in the Esbekieh in Cairo, in the Nevsky 
 Prospect in St. Petersburg, or even in Paris. 
 
 I cannot help myself, but in all those fine and broad 
 thoroughfares of the above-named capitals, I see 
 always the architects, the surveyors, the engineers, 
 the contractors, who will and can do the job for so 
 much money; and if they can get a few more 
 millions, well, they can add so much more precious 
 marble, that is all. But artistic inspiration ? 
 
 Even in a building like the Paris Opera House, 
 which cost sixty-f9ur million francs, there is abso- 
 lutely nothing really and artistically grand, except 
 the fine and superbly designed staircase. That is 
 
 163 
 
1 64 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 a conception, and that is all. I could show you in 
 Paris unpretentious palaces and buildings which 
 cost a half-million of francs, and they are artistic 
 conceptions. Just like some newly written and mag- 
 nificently worked out symphonies by the new mas- 
 ters: they are fine as workmanship, nay, they may 
 be even called magnificent, but one mother-idea of 
 eight bars of the " Sinfonia Eroica," or the Seventh 
 Symphony, or the Ninth, of Beethoven, overshadows 
 them all, as the pyramid of Cheops overshadows the 
 billions of sand-cones in the Egyptian desert. At 
 sunset you see the pyramid, but you don't see the 
 sand-cones. 
 
 Speaking of pretentious modern buildings which 
 are masterly and horrid abortions, commend me to 
 the State-house at Albany, New York. There is a 
 building for you with the most stupid and bloated 
 pretensions. An appropriation was made years ago 
 by both Houses to build a new fine State-house to cost, 
 I believe, three to four millions. It has cost now more 
 than sixteen millions. Some of its parts begin to de- 
 cay, and, although seemingly magnificent, it smells 
 of its contractor, its boodle, and its aimless, stupid 
 arrogance. 
 
VII 
 GREEK AND JAPANESE ART 
 
 IN my estimation there are only two peoples who 
 were and are organically and supremely artistic in 
 all their notions. The one was the Greek, with the 
 adjacent nations under its influence, and they be- 
 came degraded after the loftiest era of Pericles — an 
 era supremely artistic and at the same time whole- 
 some, entire, establishing by sheer genius absolute 
 laws of the beautiful. They degraded themselves 
 through politics and intestinal strifes, foolish dema- 
 gogy, into the lowest Byzantinism, which went down 
 and down to the most degrading ignorance of the 
 Dark Ages, only to be lifted up again by one man, 
 aided by a few monks — Dante d*Alighieri. Of 
 course the Moors had a great deal to do with it. So 
 it is with Japan of the wonderful era of the Hiochys 
 and the constellation of wonderful Asiatic artists 
 until almost down to the nineteenth century. Then 
 came the Artistic Misfortune (maybe even the polit- 
 ical) of opening the country by Perry. Since then its 
 Asiatic and absolutely organic art goes down the 
 grade with electric quickness, until nothing remains 
 of its manifold and beautiful art but the shoddy and 
 
 165 
 
i66 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 its absolute cleverness and its commercial vogue 
 and affectation.* All this is still very, very clever, 
 cleverer than anything we (the boasting civilized 
 ones) can do. But cleverness is not genius; only 
 unbiassed and unconscious workmanship is Genius. 
 Between cleverness and genius the difference is as 
 great as the useful charmingness of a bee and the 
 seeming similarity of the odious and horrible wasp. 
 
 *JRemenyi*s keen observation is confirmed by the commercialism of much 
 of the Japanese art as shown in the Louisiana Purchase Exposition in 
 J 004. — Edr. 
 
VIII 
 
 PREDICTION OF THE FUTURE OF THE 
 UNITED STATES 
 
 MY love and patriotism for America and Ameri- 
 cans does not consist in sempiternal praise 
 through thick and thin. On the contrary, I can and 
 will find fault there where the fault is to be found; 
 but I can afford to do so because I do not do it with- 
 out cause, and my thorough and deep American 
 patriotism gives me entire liberty to see all things in 
 their proper light. Besides, this is a wonderfully 
 broad and grand country, and because you have to 
 pass hundreds of miles through sage-brush and noth- 
 ing else, this does not prevent you from driving, 
 walking, steaming, wheeling, railroading, riding 
 through thousands of miles of as fair countries and as 
 beautiful scenery as the Hesperides gardens of old 
 mythical or mystic lore. Besides, I am sure when the 
 practical laws of sound irrigation will be econom- 
 ically discovered and applied, those dreary and al- 
 most interminable sage-brush deserts will be turned, 
 through American genius, into fertile fields. You 
 can see already where deserts have been turned into 
 paradise in some of the sage-brush parts of California, 
 
 167 
 
i68 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 whereas, you can see in many southern parts of the 
 United States vast countries not blessed with sage- 
 brush but splendid fields utterly neglected. By-and- 
 by, all that will be utilized to give happy homes to 
 one hundred and fifty millions of people who will 
 inhabit this benighted country about twenty-five 
 years hence, because Europe and even Africa will 
 send their surplus or adventurous or happy home- 
 seeking people to the United States; and (don't 
 frown!) the more they come the happier and grander 
 this country will become. Canada, Cuba, Mexico, 
 will belong to it later, and the whole southern conti- 
 nent of America. You, you, the present composite 
 Americans, are the people who will assimilate the 
 Northern Gaul, the Anglo-Saxon, the Irish and 
 Scotch of Canada, and the Spanish-Indian peoples 
 of South America, whether you want to do so or not. 
 It is your fate, Monroe or no Monroe — (it n^y a pas 
 de Monroe qui y tient, as the old French saying has 
 it) ; that is, there is no Monroe who can stand in the 
 way. It's got to be. 
 
 I will describe a legend of mine, which I made up 
 in Winchester, Virginia, last Thursday. I found, 
 with the aid of my intelligent German cicerone, 
 the little stone, awfully unpretentious house wherein 
 dwelt a good sound engineer, who had to make a 
 plan for a town, which is now Winchester. The 
 engineer-surveyor was a young man, named George 
 Washington, and the big, big lord who gave him his 
 orders as a British high official went by the name of 
 
FUTURE OF THE UNITED STATES 169 
 
 Lord Fairfax. This Lord Fairfax had a fine palatial 
 residence as Governor (which is now used as a 
 school), and this subaltern officer, George Washing- 
 ton, had a horrid little stone shanty to dwell in. To 
 give you an idea what kind of an abode Washington's 
 residence was, it will suffice if I tell you it looks very 
 much like those Irish tenement residences in some 
 of the upper parts of New York. Such is the house 
 of George Washington, and Lord Fairfax's residence 
 is even to this day a palace. Now, if a Remenyi of 
 that time, for his fiddling capacity, had been invited 
 to Lord Fairfax's dinner (with fine silver service), 
 that Remenyi would have risen up and uttered the 
 following toast to Lord Fairfax and the rest of the 
 illustrious guests: 
 
 " Ladies and gentlemen, I met to-day a young man 
 named George Washington, whom the noble host 
 of this palace employs as a surveyor. Ladies and 
 gentlemen, this afore-mentioned George Washington 
 will make war on you, will vanquish you, and will be 
 the first president of a big commonwealth, and will 
 be called the * Father of his Country ' ; whereas you, 
 my dear Lord Fairfax, you will be utterly forgotten — 
 or if possibly remembered, it will only be through 
 George Washington." 
 
 Well, this aforesaid Remenyi would have been 
 kicked out with alacrity and speediness, and would 
 have been declared a lunatic, fit to be put into a 
 strait-jacket! Nevertheless, I should have been 
 all right, shouldn't I ? That is my legend. 
 
IX 
 
 LOVE OF NATURAL SCENERY* 
 
 I COULD go on ad infinitum^ but will mention 
 only Newcastle, Sharon, Oil City, Meadville, 
 Greenville, all in Pennsylvania; and New Brighton, 
 Rochester, East Liverpool, Steubenville, all in your 
 own bloomingly blessed "Buckeye State," and 
 Wheeling, West Virginia. Those cities are one and 
 all situated in the midst of a heavenly lovely coun- 
 try, good enough to be inhabited by angels (I fear 
 the present inhabitants are not all angels). How 
 many Americans of the seventy-four millions go 
 into ecstasy as I do, in running through those lovable 
 and idyllic valleys and gracefully shaped hills with 
 their most harmoniously blended thousand-fold 
 colors of your Indian summer foliage ! A Rousseau, 
 a Dupre, could have painted in these valleys for 
 fifteen thousand years and would only have been at 
 the very beginning, just as Calame could have gorged 
 his unquenchable thirst for glorious wild rocks and 
 Alpine grandeur in Colorado, New Mexico, and in 
 some parts of Arizona for ages. 
 [Again, writing from Washington, D. C, October 
 
 *Wriiten from Wheeling, West Virginia. — Edr. 
 
 170 
 
LOVE OF NATURAL SCENERY 171 
 
 17, 1897, Remenyisays:] Really, it is a good thing 
 that my poor eyes are so well fitted and placed in 
 their respective tabernacles, because, if they were not, 
 they would leave their dwelling-places quick, like a 
 shot. Besides, all this wondrous country, lighted 
 by such a glorious autumn sun, which did pour its 
 myriads of rays with such prodigal prodigality all 
 the time, morning, noon, until sunset, that it was an 
 eye-feast good enough for a legion of archangels. 
 And all that magnificent show was given without 
 any entrance-fee; and that is the reason that so many 
 millions of deadheads don't look at those marvellous 
 marvels, whereas they applaud like madmen when 
 they see a moon made out of cardboard and lighted 
 up with calcium lights and scenery painted with 
 untruthful colors, overdone, — those things are ap- 
 plauded to the sky (of the theatre), but a piece of 
 glorious natural scenery is enjoyed only by a very 
 few. 
 
X 
 
 GABRIELE D'ANNUNZIO 
 
 TO-DAY I send you a most important interview 
 with Gabriele d'Annunzio, the foremost liter- 
 ary young man of Italy, if not of the world. This 
 literary manifestation, I may say almost revelation, 
 of this young giant, is simply a masterpiece of mas- 
 terpieces; it is worthy to be put away, all haloed, 
 into a golden shrine, because it contains more to the 
 line than other good literary works to the volume. 
 It is an absolute revelation, a new leaf in literature, 
 although old as the oldest hills, but still new, be- 
 cause so few in many centuries contemplate matters 
 in such heavenly, haloed, truthful, beautiful, glowing 
 light. Read it, please, with great, great attention, 
 and when you have read it, read it again. It ^ill 
 teach you more than volumes of the very best litera- 
 ture. But, pray, most worthy sire (Remenyi), why 
 have I to be proud for this, these superb ideas of 
 this immortal interview? Why? Because my letter, 
 written without any ostentation to a friend privately, 
 without aiming at effect, has great similarity of ideas, 
 although expressed quite differently. Read again 
 my Wheeling letter, if it was not thrown into the 
 
 17a 
 
GABRIELE D'ANNUNZIO 173 
 
 waste-basket, and you will find that my thoughts 
 run in the same direction; and mind, if I had sup- 
 posed that my ideas run somewhat originally, and it 
 had been intended for publicity, I would have been 
 more careful — although aiming at effect is defect. 
 Anyhow, I will be proud for five minutes, and then 
 I will put on again sackcloth of meekness, and 
 throw ashes on my bald head. Please keep this 
 interview of D^Annunzio, because I intend to analyze 
 it with you. 
 
XI 
 
 FATHER NIAGARA 
 
 I WRITE you these few lines to let you know that 
 I am overpowered by the basso projondo of Father 
 Niagara. . . . This great old man does not bar- 
 gain, neither with his grandeur, nor of his beauty, 
 nor of his eternal eternity ( limited all the same). In 
 short. Papa Niagara does his duty, and he has ren- 
 dered me happy, yesterday and to-day. In front of 
 my windows there are the Rapids and the brilliant 
 sprays to rejoice my eyes; I am in ecstasy, and I 
 played yesterday at the concert like ten thousand 
 bricks. I did not recognize myself, and that is all 
 due to Father Niagara. *^A thing of beauty is a joy 
 forever " — that 's what Father Niagara whispers in- 
 to my ears. 
 
 174 
 
XII 
 AN ESSAY ON BACH* 
 
 If you want music for your own and music's sake, 
 look up to Bach. 
 
 If you want music which is as absolutely full of 
 meaning as an egg is full of meat, look up to Bach. 
 
 If you want rhythm, melody, harmony, and 
 counterpoint dropping down on you as easily as a 
 tepid summer rain, look up to Bach. 
 
 If you want absolute music without any devia- 
 tion from the sublime line of beauty, and without 
 any void, look up to Bach. 
 
 If you want heavenly music sent down to Mother 
 Earth, look up to Bach. 
 
 If you want four and five part writings with as 
 much ease as four or five angels ethereally breath- 
 ing, look up to Bach. 
 
 If you want drama, if you want tragedy, comedy, 
 subHme farce, jollity, humor, look up to Bach. He 
 had the absolute gamut of every human feeling, with 
 the exception of satire, which has no heavenly attri- 
 bute. 
 
 * Written in an observation car on the way from Telluridej Colorado ^ 
 to Rica under the impulse of the moment. 
 
 175 
 
176 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 If you want to hear how they will or may sing in 
 the seventh heaven, listen to his Passion music. 
 
 If you want to hear a fugue written with the care 
 and naturalness of a legerdemain from the celestial 
 abode, look up to Bach. 
 
 If you want to hear the endless melody, look up 
 to Bach. 
 
 If you want to hear a concert such as might be 
 ordered by the Lord in high heaven, the leader of 
 that orchestra is sure to be John Sebastian Bach. 
 
 If you want to hear so-called Catholic music or 
 so-called Protestant music, look up to Bach. 
 
 If you want to discover all the genuis music might 
 possess, look up to Bach. 
 
 If you want absolute beauty, and all that beauty 
 may suggest, look up to Bach. 
 
 If you want to know who is the embodiment of a 
 musical archangel, point to Sebastian Bach, and the 
 billions of cherubs and seraphs will nod to you, and 
 the good Lord will give His consent. 
 
 Children of tender age, who learn music, and after 
 having acquired the necessary and elementary rudi- 
 ments, and after having somehow learned how to 
 play the scales pretty smoothly, ought to be put at 
 once to play the two-voiced pieces so wonderfully 
 full of jollity and pure invention by Sebastian Bach. 
 A child put to such a task in a playful way, and en- 
 dowed with a little talent, would make astonishing 
 progress, and thus save a great deal of precious time 
 
AN ESSAY ON BACH 177 
 
 and unnecessary trouble in after life, and would be 
 thus endowed, through studying Bach in his tender 
 age, with an almost unerring judgment in music; 
 and, especially, such a musical child would never say 
 in after life, "This is a good piece for an encore," 
 and "It takes with the public," and such encore 
 pieces would never see the light of day, trashily 
 complied (not composed) by too many musical nin- 
 compoops all over the world. 
 
 Anyhow, Bach ought to be the daily bread, the 
 shibboleth, the taHsman, the panacea, and the vade 
 mecum of every musician; and if that would or could 
 be the case, then music would be the art of arts. 
 Being not yet rightly treated, it is already an art 
 and science combined, sent to us from heaven as a 
 consoling medium between here and there, of which 
 the archangel is Bach. 
 
XIII 
 VIOLINS AND VIOLIN-MAKING 
 
 IT is unnecessary to make a legend about the vio- 
 lin; that is, to overdo the effort to make its his- 
 tory poetical, when the instrument, just as it stands, is 
 perfect poetry. Why should we go into fables about 
 this or any other violin? Here, look at this; where 
 will you find an instrument with so little that is 
 mechanical about it, and yet has so much soul as the 
 violin? How simple and how perfect! After all 
 it is only a few pieces of spruce and maple, some 
 strings and a few pegs. Its shape cannot be im- 
 proved ; it was brought to perfection years ago, and 
 no ingenuity or skill can alter it for the better. 
 
 Ah ha, you like it ! Yes, it is a Stradivarius, made 
 in 1704, before Stradivarius had quite put the ideas 
 which he had acquired from his master, Nicholas 
 Amati, out of his mind. Caspar di Salo, the Mag- 
 ginis, the numberless Amatis (the makers of that 
 name, I mean — there were seven or eight of them), 
 the Stainers, and all the rest, during the sixteenth 
 and seventeenth centuries, were merely the great 
 predecessors, leading up to and concentrating their 
 powers in the two greatest geniuses of violin-making 
 
 178 
 
REMENYI WITH HIS STRADIVARIUS 
 (Said to be Remenyi's best photograph. Taken in December, 1891 ) 
 
VIOLINS AND VIOLIN-MAKING 179 
 
 at Cremona; namely, Guarnerius (Joseph del Gesu 
 — there were six or seven other makers of the same 
 name) and Stradivarius, just as all the great painters 
 and sculptors, all that galaxy of artists in the Renais- 
 sance were the predecessors, and concentrated their 
 forces in Michael Angelo, Raffael, and Leonardo da 
 Vinci. As the fine arts culminated in these great 
 artists, so the glorious art of violin-making culmin- 
 ated in the beginning of the eighteenth century when 
 Guarnerius died at quite an early age, and Stradi- 
 varius at the age of ninety-two. Then there came at 
 once a decline in the art of violin-making, and not 
 even the best of Stradivarius's pupils were able to 
 work with complete success at the art which their 
 master had taught them. 
 
 Now, to what shall we attribute the decline in the 
 art of violin-making ? I believe it is due to the limi- 
 tation of human capacity. Men are not capable of 
 remaining a long time in perfection, or as some say 
 — which amounts to much the same thing — there 
 was at that time a want of genius, which at some 
 epochs is more general than at others. It was so in 
 music at the end of the last century. Then was the 
 splendid epoch of the genius of Haydn, Mozart, and 
 Beethoven, but of course we must remember they 
 were followed by a splendid constellation, which in- 
 cluded such men as Mendelssohn and Schumann, 
 and the decline was more gradual than in the art of 
 violin-making. And in literature, too, you know 
 
i8o EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 it is the same. There are epochs when the great 
 writers seem to come all together, and after them 
 there seems to be nothing left to be written for a cen- 
 tury or more. 
 
 I do not attach so much importance to the age of 
 a violin, but rather look to the ability of the maker, as 
 exhibited in the instrument I may be judging. If 
 age were a great test of merit, then the violins made 
 by the Amatis, Magginis, and others should be better 
 than those made by Stradivarius and Guarnerius. 
 Nay, more, I will say that a perfect violin is the work 
 of a genius, not simply of a skilful artisan. Such 
 was the distinguished French maker, Lupot, who 
 made splendid violins, imitating Stradivarius in every 
 respect, in shape, varnish, wood, and workmanship. 
 He was a genius. We have his violins, now more 
 than eighty years old, but they are not to be compared 
 with those of the two great masters of the first half of 
 the eighteenth century. They must have had a 
 special genius for their work, knowing exactly the 
 quality of wood, the thickness they had to give it in 
 working it out, and a hundred other details which 
 were not secrets, but which could be brought to the 
 same state of perfection by pupils who had not genius 
 like theirs. The most laudatory thing that can be 
 said about one of these violin-makers is, not that his 
 work is so many years old, but simply that its quality 
 proves who was its maker. It was not mere chance 
 with these men. We dare not say that, because 
 
VIOLINS AND VIOLIN-MAKING i8i 
 
 every violin which has come from their hands, and 
 which has not been altered in pseudo-repairing, is 
 perfect. But we might write columns upon this 
 theme without exhausting it. Only think of it! 
 There has been no change whatever in the violin from 
 its earliest days, except in the outlines of its form, 
 and Guamerius and Stradivarius gave it its present 
 shape. 
 
XIV 
 PAINTINGS — GREUZE AND REMBRANDT* 
 
 THIS ought to have been written long ago, but 
 somehow or other, it always escaped my brain, 
 and my thoughts went into other channels. Of 
 the Greuze all I can say is, and I know what 
 I am speaking of, that it is even better than his 
 masterpiece, "Za Cruche Cassee " (" The Broken 
 Jug")) in the Louvre. In coloring it is certainly 
 much better treated. It is absolute perfection, and 
 so true. I am sure there is no better picture in 
 the Chicago Art Institute, if I may except "The 
 Servant Girl," by Rembrandt. That is the only 
 picture in the Art Institute which, in my opinion, 
 is better, although the comparison is scarcely 
 fair. The two pictures are absolutely different. 
 Their individuality is peculiar and sui generis, 
 and the treatment of each one is of a different (art) 
 world, so that comparison is out of the question. 
 The Greuze is true and more ideal than " The Ser- 
 vant Girl" of Rembrandt, but then Rembrandt's 
 treatment of his subject is still truer though less ideal. 
 
 *Remenyi refers in this sketch to paintings in his own collection. 
 He was familiar with the technique and epochs oj every school. 
 
 182 
 
GREUZE AND REMBRANDT 183 
 
 Greuze looked into the face of his subject and put 
 her up into heaven; Rembrandt looked also into the 
 face of his subject and put her into his heart. His 
 artistic heart was his heaven, and a grand heaven it 
 was — a heaven full of human radiancy and truth- 
 fulness, which reflect, with an extra haloed glory, on 
 the firmament of art, where he was such a shining 
 sun. I would say Rembrandt was a Sebastian Bach 
 with a glimpse of Beethoven, and Greuze was a 
 Chopin with a glimpse of Mozart. 
 
 It was Mr. Arthur Dawson, who is a fine critic 
 and connoisseur, who discovered that my Van der 
 Heist is not a Van der Heist but a Philippe de Cham- 
 pagne, which is much better. Just as I think that my 
 friend's Caravaggio (that wicked man playing the 
 flute) is, after due reflection, not a Caravaggio at all. 
 It is a much better picture (not Italian), but of the 
 Dutch School. There were some Dutch masters who 
 imitated the Italian style — few, but there were such 
 — and this Dutch Caravaggio is of those. All this 
 dawned on me only two or.three weeks ago. I have 
 that retrospective faculty; not only the faculty, but 
 I am also able to correct my somewhat erroneous 
 judgment without the least difficulty. 
 
 Art posesses me entirely. With me it is not an 
 agreeable pastime; it is my life, my blood, my every- 
 thing. 
 
A 
 
 XV 
 
 APHORISMS 
 
 RT is a virgin who resents and revenges her- 
 self on anybody who is rash enough to soil her. 
 
 A little too much is much too much; a wee bit too 
 
 little is not sufficient. 
 
 * # * 
 
 The difference between a bee and a wasp is not 
 great, but that difference makes all the difference. 
 
 If a musician should be vain, whisper into his ears 
 the name of Beethoven; and if, on hearing that name, 
 the musician does not collapse, stick a pin into him 
 as into a full-blown-up bladder, and just look at his 
 collapse! 
 
 There are but two things absolutely absolute; 
 
 those two things are Love and Art. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Duty is the only joy; work the only consolation. 
 
 * * * 
 
 '^ Le mieux est tou jours ennemi du hien^^; mats 
 
 184 
 
APHORISMS 185 
 
 dans ce cas le meilleurissime est pour toujour s ennemi 
 
 mime du meilleur. 
 
 * * * 
 
 You are hard at work; you do well to do so. An- 
 gels must work; only drones do not. Besides, 
 Leonardo da Vinci says: ^^Vogli sempre qiiel che tu 
 
 debt.'' 
 
 * * * 
 
 " I should like to have heard , who sings 
 
 classically." Does he? Does she? It is not so easy 
 to sing classically, after my ideas. Are you not too 
 lenient ? In some respects it is good to be lenient ; I 
 can't be, I 'm sorry to say, in art matters. Art, real 
 art, is absolute, and not lenient either, when judged 
 
 by Michael Angelo or Schumann. 
 
 * * * 
 
 Au jond, he knows a good thing when he sees it, 
 and, what is more, he has the holy enthusiasm for 
 
 Art, which is a fine gift.* 
 
 * * * 
 
 If the young musician takes his art into his soul 
 and heart, he will become one; if not, not. He 
 
 ought to grow. 
 
 * # # 
 
 Die echte Verkldrung in der Kunst ist das ewig 
 Natiirliche.'f 
 
 * This refers to a new acquairUance. 
 
 ^The true ideal in art is eternally the natural. 
 
XVI 
 
 NOTES AND LETTERS WRITTEN TO A 
 YOUNG FRIEND 
 
 I 
 Elkhart, Ind., May 14, 1897. 
 Ma Chere Enfant : — 
 
 ILy a dans moi une coquetterie fSroce, car quand 
 vous aspirerez avec dSlice le parjum dcre de cette ex- 
 cellente ragine Orientate, je savais d6jh que le paquet 
 entier vous appartenait, mais fat maintenu my 
 inborn ferocious coquetterie et je me suis dit quel effet 
 cela produira quand elk recevra tout le paquet envoye 
 de quelque part. 
 
 Le voilcL done ce paquet, et quoique je ne sois ni Grec, 
 ni jeune, ni beau, au contraire tout poturonesque 
 (^\xra^\!in\s poturon in French) cependant il y aura 
 de la joie dans la maison en recevant le petit paquet. 
 And now, faites le moi savoirpar un petit mot addr esse 
 a E. Remenyi, b> Chicago, III., if everything is all 
 O. K. dans la belle et bonne maison, et si on se souvi- 
 ent avec bienveillance du Seigneur Pumpkinois et de 
 toutes ses Crankinismes ? Je joue tous les jours de 
 mieux en mieux quelquefois, quand je suis dans la 
 tr^s sainte furie je joue comme 1,000,000,000,000 
 
 186 
 
NOTES AND LETTERS 187 
 
 diableSj diabloHns, imps, gnomes, et d'autres bites 
 feroces — et avec la grdce des gazelles. There now, 
 there is vanity for you — of course there is ! 
 
 Je donnerai trots sous si je pouvais vous avoir 
 aupres de moi, vous, et voire chere mbre et excel- 
 lentissime phe, et mime voire tante, en un mot, je me 
 suis enamourache de tout, msme des pierres de cette 
 belle et bonne maison antique — et maintenant bien de 
 choses tout ce quHl y ade plus aimables pour vous 
 tous — and all the rosy greetings from heaven and 
 musical and other paradises. Good-bye. 
 
 Your friend, 
 
 Ed. Remenyi. 
 
 P. S. — N^osez pas arriver ^ N, Y., avant que j ^y 
 sois — vous le saurez quand — car nous resterons 
 {avec ou sans voire permission) en correspondence. 
 Eljen Maty as Kiraly qui veut dire en hongroise, Vive 
 Mathias Corvinus roil 
 
 2 
 
 May 18, 1897. 
 
 And now I must acknowledge with horror-stricken 
 and sackclothed penance my abomination of not 
 having mentioned in my last letter your Narcissus 
 ApoUonea little brother. Oetait a Ihse-majeste, stu- 
 pid neglect on my part, for which I ask his boyship- 
 dom ten million times pardon. More I cannot do — 
 if I should even stand on my head. But can I, poor 
 Hungarian, get along in this world when " Meghalt, 
 Maty as Kiraly oda aj igaysaj " ? — which Hungarian 
 
i88 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 proverb means " King Matthias Corvinus is dead, 
 and justice has died with him," And now I finish, 
 as I have yet much to do. You ought to hear me 
 now, when I have my friend Sanolet as an accompa- 
 nist. Oh,my! "Oh, gracious!" '* Oh, holy smoke!" 
 What an artistico-artistic playing it is, and how 
 artistically you all would enjoy it! With love to 
 you all. 
 
 Your old gentleman friend, Le Epicurien and 
 high-liver friend, Ed. Remenyi. 
 
 P. S. — Les pauvres Grecs sont toujours battus* 
 
 3 
 
 Rhinelander, Wis., June 5, 1897. 
 
 Tai regu voire honnissimie lettre, et il est evidem- 
 ment evident que je n'ai pas regu voire seconde letire, 
 Elle se promhne prohahlement de post office en P. O., 
 forwarded and forwarded until it will reach me, Anno 
 Domini 1997; some time in that year when I will be 
 again in my fifth or sixth youth, not h la Ponce de 
 L6on, but h la Edouardus Remenyibus. You wrote me 
 something splendid, and that is that your splendid 
 mother looks so well after her campagne Aufent- 
 halt. 
 
 Alas, I will not Kook Kuchen through the big 
 telescope; the d — d fools in building its pedestal did 
 not calculate its weight and almost jeopardized the 
 
 * Referring to the Greco-Turkish war of 1897, and Greek friends par- 
 ticipating in it. 
 
EDOUARD REMENYI 
 ( From a photograph presented to the author in 1897 ) 
 
NOTES AND LETTERS 189 
 
 very telescope, and so I am cheated out of my visit 
 to the spheres. Dash it all, I am in a r-r-r-age. 
 Love to you all. 
 
 Your old gentleman friend, 
 
 Edguard Remenyi. 
 
 4 
 
 (Undated.) 
 
 How is it that you did not let me know if you re- 
 ceived the fragrant root, which is not Hungarian 
 but Oriental, pure and simple ? Now take immedi- 
 ately hold of a pen, do it with speediness and alacrity, 
 and inform me of this, and of many other Matthias 
 Corvinesque matters, and of everything, and of some 
 other matters. 
 
 You heard me that morning, the day when I left 
 you? All right, that was nofing: you ought to 
 hear me now, now that my friend pianist and ac- 
 companist has arrived from San Francisco, and you 
 would hear M-u-s-i-c, you bet ! Cest le cas de dire 
 " le mieux est tou jours ennemi du Men "; mats dans ce 
 cas le meilleurissime est pour toujours ennemi meme 
 du meilleur. 
 
 I am at last in my orientally perfumed musical 
 element (with a double vengeance), and now at last, 
 after years of musical and forced Carime (Lent), I 
 am in a perfect exotic musical garden of Hesperides 
 and musical Champs Elysees, I could make you 
 now paint miniatures, grandiatures, in oil, in pastel, 
 in Tod und Teufel that you would not recognize 
 
190 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 yourself, and that the female zealous paintress would, 
 could, and should paint until nothing would remain of 
 her but a spot — there now! I must finish. I have 
 to rehearse some foine new pieces of music of my 
 own composition, des pihces qui ne se mouchent 
 pas du pied. This means "unpretentious pieces, 
 yes, but devilishly good all the same." 
 
 Voire vieil ami, 
 
 Ed. Remenyi. 
 
 5 
 
 June 17, 1897. 
 
 T aurais du vous ecrire et vous remercier avant voire 
 last honne leiire, mais il esi encore ioujours temps de 
 le faire cl present, car il rCy a pas peril endemeure^ 
 n^esi ce pas ? Je ne sais pas au jusie quand ma saison 
 va finir, mais je crois vers le fin du mois de Juillei 
 or beginning of August, car, malgre les chaleurs 
 accdblantes le public vieni h mes concerts ei m^applaudie 
 a ioui casser, Aujourd^hui (17 Juin, 1S97) i'^^ ^4 
 ans, ei je me porie a merveille, grdce a ma dieie. On the 
 4th of July, je jiierai mon 2>oo-ihme jour de ceiie 
 dieie — pomme-hredid-lait-ique; ei plus je m^avance 
 dans cetie dieie plus j^y vois ses avaniages. Les 
 autres laisseni pendre leur langues dans cetie chaleur, 
 iandis que moi, je me sens comme un young spring in 
 field. Comment esi tout le monde h la belle et bonne 
 — good old mansion? Of course all and every- 
 body is all O. K. and well, and must be well, if not 
 wellerer. I do not know where I finish my season. 
 
NOTES AND LETTERS 191 
 
 but I will let you know in one or two weeks where 
 and when, and then you will know if I can still come 
 
 to . If not, the prophetesses and the prophet 
 
 will come to the mountain. I am glad that you are 
 hard at work. Duty the only joy; work the only con- 
 solation! Write as often as you want or can, but 
 write. Love to all. 
 
 From your 64-year-old fiddler friend, 
 
 Ed. Remenyi. 
 6 
 Chere, Cara Corvina: — 
 
 Et pourquoi ne rn'a-t-on pas repondu h ma dernihre 
 lettre, car je voulais ahsolument savoir quand vous 
 autres vous arriverez h New York. Moi! Malheureuse- 
 ment je n^arriverai que le 10 AoM. Please jaites 
 moi done savoir par retour du courrier quand la 
 Corvinus Matthias family sera in New York — how 
 long and where they will dwell. Unfortunately 
 ma pauvre femme est trh malade, et comme elle souffre 
 et depuis combien de temps. Avis a la lectrice. 
 Love to all. 
 
 Your old gentleman friend, 
 
 Ed. Remenyi. 
 
 P. S. — Please tell me all about your work — all. 
 
 7 
 Oscoda and Au Sable, Mich., 
 
 July 27, 1897. 
 
 Chere Corvina: — 
 
 En fin fai en une bonne petite lettre de vous, Merci. 
 
192 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 Je suis enchants que vous aspirez un air pur and 
 unadulteratedly unadulterated as you are yourself. 
 There now, there is a good compliment. When 
 you will come to New York only the gods on 
 Olympus know, and the little fishes ! I will arrive 
 in New York on the eighth or ninth of August, 
 but how long I can or will remain, I don't know yet; 
 five — six weeks anyhow in going out from and com- 
 ing into New York; for one or three days to Philadel- 
 phia, for one, three, or four days to Dobbs Ferry near 
 New York to see IngersoU; maybe somewhere else, 
 too, for a couple of days. Of course I will know 
 the time you can or are coming to New York. I will 
 be at home to expect your Royal Highness. 
 
 Quand h un desir de peindre comme Raffaelo and 
 Michel Angela, comme les Italiens Vappelent, c^est 
 un ddsir trhs modeste plus que modeste d^une descen- 
 dante de Matthias Corvinus. 
 
 I will have a great deal to do in New York, and for 
 that reason your Royal Highness's presence would be 
 very desirable. En attendant, je finis ma lettre, wish- 
 ing for three quadrillion tons of heavenly pure air, 
 in which your Royal Highness may recuperate all 
 your artistic strength, — so much not protected, in fact 
 
 so little understood in . It must have done to 
 
 you a car-load of good to have near you for a couple 
 of hours your obedient servant, your friend the old 
 gentleman who (h)appreciated you fully, without an 
 h, and who is your friend through all the spheres — 
 
NOTES AND LETTERS 193 
 
 and there are yet a few of them of which neither your 
 Royal Highness has any knowledge or tidings, 
 neither your faithful amigo muy devoHssimo, 
 
 Edguard Remenyi. 
 8 
 New York, August 16, 1897. 
 
 Your good letter with enclosed introduction duly, 
 awfully duly, received. I thank you for both — 
 but I do not thank you for not coming, or for not 
 being able to come, to New York, as I yearned and 
 longed to see you from a friendly view, from an 
 artistic standpoint, to discuss two million points on 
 art matters, and then we would not have been at the 
 beginning of the matter. And, from a Corvinian 
 standpoint too, because you must know that the in- 
 auguration of his monument, of his great monument, 
 will take place at Kolozsvar-Erd^ly; in German, 
 Klausenburg-Siebenburgen (in Latin, Erd^ly is Tran- 
 sylvania), and I believe that if you can show even 
 in a midgety way your descent from Hungary's 
 greatest king, you and your mother, you would get 
 such a reception that even the archangels would 
 envy you; and they are not noted for their envious 
 disposition, are they ? 
 
 Now, my dear Corvina, a simple question: In 
 your last letter, you address me, ^^Mon cher ami,^^ in 
 to-day's you write '^ My dear Signor." This is on 
 my dear Corviniana's part, absolutely erroneous, as I 
 am not an Italian. If you want to be very polite 
 
194 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 to me you would be obliged to write ^^ Edes Re- 
 menyi Ur " (" dear Remenyi Mister "). This is Hun- 
 garian. Herr, Monsieur, Signor, Sefior, Dom, Don, 
 Pafie, Mister, are " Ur " in Hungarian, and the 
 " Ur '' Cometh after the Remenyi, that is, Remenyi 
 Mister. Now you know it. 
 
 As to going to , it is more than tempting, but 
 
 between the cup and the lip there is many a slip, and 
 between my goodiest wish, desire, and will, and my 
 poter d'andare it y a thirty billion impediments, but 
 qui vive verra. Greeting to your parents, and where 
 is the Narcissus AppoUonia? If he wants a good 
 violin cheap, he can have one. I know of one. Thou- 
 sand million greetings and thanks to my good and 
 genial friend Corviniana. 
 
 From her devoted palm-tree fiddler, 
 Edguard Remenyi. 
 
 9 
 
 New York, Sept. lo, 1897. 
 
 Yes, I will be in Erie, Pa., on the twentieth. Erie is 
 the only place I know of. After the twentieth where 
 to will be my route I don't know, but in a few days 
 I will get it and will send it to you immediately. But 
 I despair all the same of meeting you on the road. 
 After the twentieth of November I will be de retour 
 in New York for three months, and I think you may 
 still be here, and that would give me great joy, great! 
 
 Six magnificent masterpieces are here — two 
 Dupr^s, one Morland, one Rousseau, one Panini, 
 
NOTES AND LETTERS 195 
 
 and one Calame (magnificent Alpine painter, mag- 
 nificent!); but all six are masterpieces. Oh! I hope 
 you will see these. 
 
 I will dine at M 's next Tuesday, and every- 
 thing will be all O. K., except Corvina will not be 
 
 there, and that is bad, of course. Is n't X a 
 
 fine fellow ? Yes, he is, but he ought to be four or 
 five inches taller, on fait ce qu^on pent, n^est ce pas? 
 Have you received my last letter badly directed? 
 Love to you all. 
 
 From your very devoted friend, 
 
 Edguard Remenyi. 
 10 
 Oswego, New York, Sept. 29, 1897. 
 Chere Amie Cgrvina: — 
 
 Voire bonne et charmante lettre m^est arrivi hier id 
 a Owego. Elle m^a fait grandement plaisir et faint- 
 erais Men voir vos dessins pour les vitraux, I could 
 perhaps suggest something to your ladyship. Vous 
 pouvez vous aisiment imaginer comme je me rSjouie 
 dejh a vous revoir a New York — hein ? En aurons 
 nous des conversations ci nous deux h donner Venvie 
 aux dieux et dresses Olympiens I Je ne vous dis 
 qui ga I 
 
 Tai Scrit, ily a trois jours, une assez tongue lettre 
 
 CL Monsieur , qui est vraiment un homme superbe, 
 
 digne d^etre encadre dans une auriole quand on pense 
 aux millions de nincumpoops qu^on rencontre sur le 
 haut chemin de la vie, et dire que je dois cette 
 
196 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 connaissance h la cherissime Corvina. Mais ce n^est 
 qu'a New York que la Mre Corvina verra comme quoi 
 je me connais dans son art, and don't you forgettez- 
 vousl Vous verrez que le vieux est bon cl quelque chdse 
 et que le Vieux se sont tous les jours plus jeune h cause 
 de sa diHe (aujourd^hui 389 jours of high living, — 
 on the left). Les pommes sont exquises, Le pain est 
 exquiSy et le lait est du Nectar pur, et j^en suis trbs 
 fier, que je suis le un entre un million — voire mime 
 ma situation sociale etles milles et milk temptations, un 
 entre vingt millions. And so I am going on with excel- 
 sior brows in the happy expectation to see you soon. 
 Give my love to all. 
 
 Your friend the old gentleman who will soon have 
 his twenty-fifth anniversary, 
 
 Edouard Remenyi. 
 II 
 Winchester, Va., Oct. 14, 1897. 
 
 Washington's old historical town! Tr^s interes- 
 sant pour moil Endlich, en fin vous voila arrive cl 
 New York chez votre charmante amie Lilian, and I 
 hope to see a great deal of you, of you both, during 
 my stay in New York, after the twentieth or twenty- 
 second of November. That it will be a grand pleasure 
 to the old man (I), cela va sans dire; in fact, I rejoice 
 at the outlook almost with a child's joy, who is to 
 get his Christmas presents and pounds of candies. 
 I hope nothing, nothing, nothing will intervene with 
 this symphonistic grand joy of mine. And now, 
 
NOTES AND LETTERS 197 
 
 good Corvina, put on your holidayest garbs, looks, 
 wits, allures, gestures, smiles, and even tears if you 
 may have some for Hellenic, I mean Greek, joys * 
 
 My wife and my twins will receive you with open 
 arms, and show you all I have still at home ; what 
 you will get from the old Man (me) is absolutely 
 reserved to the old man: he (the old man) never 
 would give that privilege to anyone but to himself, 
 to present it or them to your gladdened artistic eyes. 
 Write me always to 85th Street; everybody there 
 knows that you have a shrine in my heart — and 
 don't you forget it, sHl vous plait, I do not know if 
 our great friend will mention to you that I am obliged 
 to send him weekly an epistolary instalment; and 
 you have no idea with what gusto and pleasure I 
 send those epistolary offenbarungen (revelations) of 
 my soul to that pearl of American Manhood. 
 
 An awful modern mouth-organ in the streets of 
 historic Winchester disturbs my poor mind almost 
 to distraction, and the more I wish he may stop the 
 more he goeth on, the little devil ! 
 
 I must leave you in the lurch (qtcelle expression 
 choisie I) because I must write yet two million letters, 
 un peu moins ou plus, rCy jait rien. 
 
 Dear Corvina, please teach a little of your good 
 
 charming seriousness to , and you will get an 
 
 extra nickel from me, besides a crust (this is a mis- 
 nomer) of some of my hard-to:x; bread which I 
 
 * Remenyi refers to a victory of the Greeks. — Edr. 
 
198 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 devour daily since four hundred and three days. 
 That is a good record, ain't it? 
 
 And believe me to be your most devoted old 
 gentleman friend, 
 
 Edguard Remenyi. 
 
 12 
 
 Starling, O., Oct. 26, 1897. 
 
 These lines just to apprise you that next Sunday I 
 
 will be with the P 's at C , coming home with 
 
 them from Westerville, where I play next Satur- 
 day. II va sans dire que dimanche firai voir nos 
 amis, et nous chatterons beaucoup of our dear Corvina, 
 you bet. Avez-vous vu ma chhre femme que est une 
 invalide? Avez-vous vu mes en j ants? Avez-vous 
 entendu Adrienne ? Because musically she is very 
 talented, etc. 
 
 resphre de trouver {pour mot) une bonne tongue 
 lettre de votre part. Je demeurerai chez tes P — -'s, mais 
 
 comme my manager will live at the C with my 
 
 pianist and songstress, you can address your letter 
 there too. What are you doing in New York? 
 Write a long letter. Have you seen my fine pictures 
 at my home ? Mes compliments les plus gracieux a 
 Mile S, Write to your friend, 
 
 Ed. Remenyi. 
 
 Samedi, Nov. 27, 1897. 
 Une nouvelle pour vous: je jourerai en Metro- 
 politan Opera House un ou deux solos avec 
 
NOTES AND LETTERS 199 
 
 r accompagnement dWchestre. Uorchestre sera dirigi 
 par mon cher et grand compatriote, SeidL Vous et Miss 
 
 S , vous devez vous y trouver sans faute. Oest 
 
 pourune ceuvre de charite je crois St. Mark's Hospital. 
 respire qu^ il-y-aura un grand public et trhs repre- 
 sentative, et vous verrez, cMre Corvina,ceque your old 
 man will play and do. Among others I will play a 
 Bridal Song. You may call it anything, but it is mag- 
 nificently beautiful. It is a fine musician-like com- 
 position of the first crystalline water by my friend and 
 compatriot, Max Vogrich, who is in my consideration 
 the greatest now living genius. His face is a mixture 
 of Chopin and Schiller, not a bad milange either. 
 More of him when we will be together; il faudrait 
 que vous fassiez son portrait. His wife sings. Well ? 
 Ask Adrienne. Die Gottinen im Himmel konnen nicht 
 schoner singen. Musically she can put in one 
 mortar, Eames, Calv6, Melba, and tutti quanti. 
 But neither Vogrich nor his wife is or can be seen in 
 public. And you know, when I do speak on artistic 
 matters, I mean it. I know what I am speaking of. 
 I want to be an unerring oraculum, and I can assure 
 you I am in ninety-nine and one-half cases out of 
 a hundred — and that one-half which remains can 
 also be thrown in the totalizer. 
 
 How I rejoice to see you and to speak with you; 
 in five minutes we will speak more good, sensible, 
 artistic matters than ten million million bourgeois in 
 a million million years. My wife (not only you) 
 
200 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 says that Lilian is charming. Faut mieux. Main- 
 tenant je vous quitte reluctantly. 
 
 Your old man friend, 
 
 Edguard Remenyi. 
 
 14 
 
 Dec. 13, 1897. 
 
 Vous Ues une dme bien nee, ma chere Corvina, de 
 penser si gracieusement et aussi assidiXment b. votre 
 vieil ami Remenyi, Soyez convaingue que je ne 
 pense pas mains a vous, et rien au monde ne me 
 ferait plus de plaisir que de vous voir arriver a votre 
 noble but — du reste avec votre serieux et indomitable 
 volonte vous y arriverez — certes, que vous y arriverez, 
 Tai ecrit hier une bonne missive h votre chhre m^re, 
 parlant trts mat (?) de vous. 
 
 The musicale will take place next Wednesday. 
 There will be no more than ten or fifteen people, 
 and music for fifteen millions, but this musicale 
 can and will be repeated with a vengeance for Cor- 
 vina and Miss , rest assured of this. And now 
 
 you have that exact measure. I will stop and say au 
 revoir to you for next Thursday, partaking then of 
 my lacteal dinner in the charming society of two 
 golden brick girls. 
 
 Votre ami devout, 
 
 Ed. Remenyi. 
 
 P. S. — Hier soir, en vous Scoutant parler fetais trbs 
 charmS de vos apergus, et si favais trente et trois ans 
 de mains vous seriez une Loreley pour le Vieux (moi). 
 
NOTES AND LETTERS 201 
 
 Mais comme Us trente et trois arts ne se laissent pas 
 dwindle down — vous Ues une ravissante Vision pour 
 le reste de mes jours, and don't you forgettez-vous. 
 Toujours votre ami, the old gentleman, 
 
 Ed. Remenyi. 
 
 New York, Dec. 16, 1897. 
 Chere Corvina: — 
 
 Votre lettre est une chej-ff ceuvre de care, de bontS, de 
 prevoyance, de bons conseils, et d^autres belles qualitis, 
 et dans chaque ligne je pouvais m'apercevoir que vous 
 Ues mon ami, Vous n^aurez pas pu \aire mieux que 
 vous n^avez jaiL N^en parlons plus, Vous avez 
 fait ce que vous avez pu faire — non — vous avez jait 
 plus. Oest la vraie verite ou la viriti vraie, 
 
 Je viendrai prendre demain le violon, qu^en dites- 
 vous? Ecrivez-moi un mot si je fais bien d^apporter 
 le violon. 
 
 Toujours — et tout h vous, 
 
 Ed. Remenyi. 
 16 
 Buenos Ayres, Jan. 19, 1887.* 
 I am on my way to Mauritius. Of course you 
 think I have forgotten you and your good wife and 
 all my friends in Benton Harbor. No! But since 
 I saw you last time I went through the U. S. down 
 to California; left on the steamer for Honolulu, 
 Sandwich Islands; then to Australia, crossing the Paci- 
 fic Ocean; then to New Zealand and Tasmania; 
 
 ^Written to Mr. M. S. Owen. 
 
202 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 then back again to Australia and Queensland and 
 through the Torres Straits to Java; then through the 
 Straits to Burmah, India, Ceylon, back to the Straits; 
 then up to China and Japan, back to Manila, back 
 to the Straits, and am now on my way to Mauritius; 
 then to Cape Colony, and from there to South 
 America. If you don't call this travelling, I don't 
 know what you really can call it. 
 
 I saw wonder things, — wonderfully wonderful 
 things, and made a most tremendous collection of 
 the most valuable objects, mostly presents. Oh, if 
 you could see all those things! I could fill twelve 
 houses like yours chock-full. Now be a good boy 
 and write me a letter of two hundred thousand lines, 
 if you will. So much the better. Register your 
 letter, otherwise I never will get it, and keep me in 
 your good memory and friendship. 
 
 Edguard Remenyi. 
 
 October 25, 1897.* 
 I have just read of the railroad horror on the Hud- 
 son River, almost in the suburbs of New York. You 
 don't need to go to the Far West, or to the Colorado 
 canons for wrecks. Besides, there are other wrecks 
 too, and even more serious. See rather the Cas- 
 tilian pride's wreck! What a pitiful spectacle the 
 Spanish wreck presents in its stupid, blind pride! 
 She wrecks herself blindly in broad daylight. 
 
 ^Written to Mr. M. S. Owen. 
 
REMENYFS LAST PHOTOGRAPH 
 Taken with Madame Brehany, the singer, in October or November, 1897 
 
p 
 
 I 
 
 I 
 
XVII 
 
 CORRESPONDENCE BETWEEN ROBERT G. 
 
 INGERSOLL AND EDOUARD 
 
 REMENYI, 1880-1898* 
 
 I 
 
 August, 1880. 
 
 THIS week the great violinist, Edouard Remenyi, 
 visited me at Cape Ann, Massachusetts, and for 
 three days delighted and entranced the fortunate 
 idlers of the beach. He played nearly all the time, 
 night and day, seemingly carried away with his own 
 music. Among the many selections given were the 
 Andante from the tenth sonata in E flat, also from 
 the twelfth sonata in G minor, by Mozart. Nothing 
 could exceed the wonderful playing of the selections 
 from the twelfth sonata. A hush of death fell upon 
 the audience, and when he ceased tears fell upon 
 applauding hands. Then followed the " Elegie " 
 by Ernst, then " The Ideal Dance," composed by 
 himself — a fairy piece, full of wings and glancing 
 feet, moonlight and melody, where fountains fall in 
 
 *The Editors are indebted to Mrs. Robert G. Ingersoll for her kindness 
 in contributing the following correspondence between her husband and Re- 
 menyiy which has been preserved by her daughter ^ Miss Maude Ingersoll. 
 
 203 
 
204 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 showers of pearl, and waves of music die in sands 
 of gold. Then came the " Barcarole " of Schu- 
 bert, and he played this with infinite spirit, in a kind 
 of inspired frenzy, as though music itself were mad 
 with joy; then the grand sonata in G, in three move- 
 ments, by Beethoven. 
 
 R. G. Ingersoll. 
 
 2 
 
 ' Nov. 24, 1891. 
 My dear Remenyi: — 
 
 A thousand thanks for your good letter ! We will 
 not trouble you until after the concert. Then we 
 want you to come home with us. We will put you 
 carefully in the carriage and bring you to 400 Fifth 
 Avenue. We will have something to eat and a 
 small drop to drink, including Hathorne water of 
 the strongest brand, Saratoga Sec, of the vintage of 
 1833. Then we will take you where you want to go, 
 so you can have all the sleep you need before start- 
 ing for Syracuse. We all hope that you will have a 
 splendid audience Sunday night. Don't play any 
 better than you used to — we could not stand it. In 
 my mind the old tones are still rising and falling, 
 still throbbing, pleading, beseeching, imploring, 
 wailing, like the lost; rising winged and triumphant, 
 superb and victorious, then caressing, whispering 
 every thought of love; intoxicated, delirious with joy, 
 fainting with passion, fading to silence as softly and 
 imperceptibly as consciousness is lost in sleep. 
 
 R. G. Ingersoll. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE 205 
 
 3 
 
 Dec. 27, '97. 
 My dear Remenyi: — 
 
 I am delighted that you and your daughter are go- 
 ing to be with us on New Year's eve. We will put 
 the Old Year in his coffin, and we will rock the cradle 
 of the New. I know that we will all be happy — 
 happy to see you again. Give my best regards to 
 Mrs. Remenyi. If she is well enough, you must in- 
 duce her to come. We would all be glad to welcome 
 her. Yours always, 
 
 R. G. Ingersoll. 
 
 4 
 
 Dec. 27, '97. 
 My dear Remenyi: — 
 
 This is letter No. 2. I forgot to say in the first 
 that we would have baked apples, milk, and bread 
 like the soles of shoes. You can get fat. Apples 
 and Art, Bran and Brain, Milk and Music, — what 
 a blessed Trinity! Yours always, 
 
 R. G. Ingersoll. 
 
 5 
 Syracuse, N. Y., Nov. 30, 1891. 
 
 After the Ingersollean heaven! There now, so 
 much to begin with, my dear Ingersoll. And now I 
 have two hundred million requests to make to you, 
 but have no time to write them all down. I will just 
 mention a few: 
 
 I. Go to SeidPs — or give him a rendezvous some- 
 where; and this rendezvous idea must come from you 
 
2o6 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 and not at all from me, having received a letter from 
 me concerning my playing sometimes at his glorious 
 concerts. I must play there, and here too, coMe que 
 coMe; by all means it must be as soon as possible, and 
 if I have to come to New York from Pekin expressly 
 for that concert. Listen! I will write to-day to my 
 manager, Mr. George Hathaway, Redpath Lyceum 
 Bureau, a very good man and most reliable. Will 
 tell him all that happened, and how it happened, and 
 also that I must play there at all prices. Of course 
 Hathaway must know nothing of it, that you, the 
 Jupiter, do speak with Seidl, otherwise he would not 
 move in the matter. See? Now you understand 
 my situation. I am fully prepared for the — for that 
 musical fray; as prepared and as fully armed as 
 Minerva was when she came out fully armed from 
 Jupiter; and that it did not happen now does not 
 matter. But it must happen. I want to impress 
 this upon my Jupiter Ingersoll friend; and now you 
 know your duty concerning this matter. Of course 
 I will write to-day to Hathaway. He must move in 
 the matter. In fact, I have received this very moment 
 this very wire: "Have offered New York, Dec. 20 
 or 27; deeply regret the mishap and hope to make 
 satisfactory arrangements. Redpath Lyceum Bu- 
 reau." 
 
 You see he moves in the matter, but it must be the 
 Jupiter who moves in this matter. Now I have 
 said all I had to say, and I am fully understood. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE 207 
 
 2. Have you cabled to my wife? Of course you 
 have. 
 
 3. Another request: please do me another favor. 
 My twins, boy and girl, Tibor and Adrienne, eigh- 
 teen years old, will know about you. Please send 
 them, with a short dedicatory line from your pent-in 
 memory, a souvenir of the ever-to-be-remembered 
 evening of the twenty-ninth of November, spent at 
 your blessed house — a photographic album of New 
 York, New York with all its views. This would be 
 awfully nice of you. Do so! Now I end, expecting 
 your good lines as an answer, and with all my love 
 to all, from the oldest down to the three or four 
 months old one, and hugging them all, and with all 
 kinds of affection from 
 
 Your old fiddler friend, 
 
 Edouard Remenyi. 
 Later — You must do something more, more-er 
 for me. There is no rest for the wicked. But what 
 a musical satisfaction will I give you for all your 
 goodness, with a vengeance!* 
 
 *0w the occasion of Remenyi' s concert at the Metropolitan Opera House 
 in New York, in which he played with Seidl, I had dined with him at his 
 house, where, surrounded by his family, he partook, with his usual calm 
 satisfaction, of the hard bread, apples, and milk which he believed so bene- 
 ficial as a diet, and to which he attributed his remarkable vigor, the firmness 
 0} his muscle, and the strength of his arm. This, he affirmed, enabled him 
 to practise so many hours and to endure so much. As the time drew near 
 for his departure for the opera-house, he hastily collected the music he was to 
 render, and bidding Mme. Remenyi an affectionate au revoir, drove off. 
 Later, with his pretty daughter Adrienne and son Tibor, I watched Remenyi, 
 across the stretch of the crowded opera-house, as he took his place easily — 
 a small figure, surrounded by the great orchestra, which was conducted by his 
 
2o8 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 6 
 
 (Undated) 
 My dear Grand Man: — 
 
 If you want to be blown up — down — to be pul- 
 verized, to be electrified, to be flabbergasted, to be 
 electrically astonished, all you have to do is to come^ 
 and your family, to 35 South Fifth Avenue next 
 Wednesday at half-past three p. m., and you will see 
 things of which even you scarcely dreamt. Nikola 
 Tesla, the great electrician, asked me to wTite you, 
 so I did myself the honor. I woidd have come down 
 myself to go with you, but can't do it, being obliged 
 to go to Tesla next Wednesday with Dr. Antonin 
 Dvorak who wants also to see them experiments, but 
 who is such a practical (?) gentleman that he cannot 
 even find his own house on a clear day. Now I 
 have done my loving duty. 
 
 I am your old fiddler friend and admirer, 
 
 Ed. Remenyi. 
 
 ^'dear friend Seidll" The programme was long and difficult, btU the violin 
 0} Remenyi lifted its voice as that of some great prima-donna — its tones 
 soaring, true and clear, above the tremendous volume of the entire orchestra. 
 The striking point, however, came in the next number of the programme, 
 which was executed by Remenyi with the support of an accompanist and 
 only a few pieces of the orchestra. The fire of his playing, the brilliancy 
 of his tone and technique, were such that, surpassing himself, he so filled 
 that immense building it was only on second thought one realized that the 
 manifold voices of the orchestra, which had swelled out in the previous num- 
 bers, were no longer with him! Afterwards, when the storms of applause 
 were over and he had joined us, he gave the characteristic shrug of his 
 broad shoulders, and made use of the odd little expression, his usual form 
 of expressing any satisfaction in his own tours de force: " Well, how did 
 ii go? I played like a brick — yes? " G. D. K. 
 
CORRESPONDENCE 209 
 
 7 
 Salt Lake City, April 20, 1893. 
 
 It is a good while that I did not write to my dearest, 
 dear Jupiter. I would have two hundred thousand 
 things to write and say to you ; suffice one thing — and 
 that covers the whole ground — that you are in the 
 very centre of my heart, soul, or souPs heart. Take 
 your choice, and don't pay your money. I hear 
 from my savage mathematician son that he had the 
 honor and pleasure to be with you. I wish I had 
 been in his skin. 
 
 How is the grand young man's health? I hope 
 it is O. K. Am on my way to California, Oregon, 
 Washington, Idaho, Montana, and to the Ki-Ki-ri- 
 Ki-Ki-Ko-Ko-Ko also. If you think it the proper 
 thing to do, send me two lines for your friends at 
 Butte and Helena. Will be there one or two days, 
 all in all. If you think it not proper, don't. Love 
 to all. 
 
 From your O. G. fiddler friend and devotee and 
 admirer, Ed. Remenyi. 
 
 8 
 St. Cloud, Minn., Jan. 22, 1893. 
 
 MON TRES CHER JUPITER: — 
 
 I am sorry not to be in Chicago when you give 
 your Bob Burns lecture. Sorry I am, sorry I am, 
 that I see so little of you during this season, and I 
 am awfully sorry not to fiddle something grand with 
 
2IO EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 the great Seidl. But I have something really great 
 to fiddle, and that is Dvdrak's violin concerto in its 
 entirety (three parts), and greatly (I believe, at least,) 
 I do fiddle this concerto. Sorry I am, and I am 
 sorry, and that is all, but I am not sorry but glad 
 that I keep you right warmly in my esteem, admira- 
 tion, and love. You leave Chicago probably on 
 Tuesday and I will arrive there on Thursday. Too 
 bad! Please leave word if you have received this 
 scribble of mine. With love to all. 
 
 Your old gentleman fiddler friend, 
 
 Edouard Remenyi. 
 
 9 
 
 (Undated) 
 On the twenty-third of April I will finish my con- 
 cert tour, one hundred and seventy consecutive good 
 concerts to my record, and finding myself in my 
 wineless, meatless, smokeless, state of bliss and by 
 no means abstemiousness or asceticism. I hope that 
 the whole holy family at 400 is all O. K. in wineful, 
 meatful, smokeful state of bliss, and that them good 
 folks will receive me with (h)open (h)arms (no 
 harm done), on my return to New York toward the 
 end of April. With best love to all. 
 
 Your old fiddler friend and admirer, 
 
 Ed. Remenyi. 
 P. S. — A letter from IngersoU is always welcome 
 at the old Corner Church. 
 
PART IV 
 
 PRESS TRIBUTES, LIST OF COMPOSITIONS, 
 
 ETC. 
 
PART IV 
 
 PRESS TRIBUTES, LIST OF COMPOSITIONS, 
 
 ETC. 
 
 MR. MAPLESON'S benefit concert, as usual, 
 took place at the Crystal Palace, and as us- 
 ual consisted of an unlimited supply of miscellaneous 
 music, drawn mainly from Italian sources and per- 
 formed in approved fashion by the leading members 
 of Her Majesty's Theatre. There was, however, one 
 striking exception to the ordinary routine. The 
 audience, or at least its younger components, became 
 here for the first time acquainted with an artist whose 
 undeniable power must have been a surprise to 
 many. M. Edouard Remenyi, the Hungarian vio- 
 linist, has, it is true, a widespread — one may say 
 a European — reputation, but it resembles in its 
 character that of some of our non-exhibiting painters. 
 Most EngHsh amateurs have heard the name of 
 Remenyi, and know that he ranks amongst the first 
 of living vioHnists, but few can vouch for this general 
 impression by their personal experience. The artist 
 himself is largely responsible for this state of things. 
 For nearly thirteen years he has not been in England, 
 
 213 
 
214 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 and even his present visit to this country was not 
 originally made with a view to public performance. 
 It was only the almost sensational effect M. Remenyi 
 produced in private circles that caused him to accept 
 Mr. Mapleson's engagement on Saturday last. On 
 that occasion his success was brilliant. But the 
 transept of the Crystal Palace is not the right place 
 to display qualities of tone, nor a fantasia on themes 
 from " The Huguenots " (chosen by M. Remenyi in 
 accordance with the general character of the concert) 
 the right composition to throw light on the higher, 
 intellectual side of his style. It is a brilliant piece, 
 full of varied effects, and in the " Romance " from 
 the first act much sentiment may be introduced, but 
 the whole conception is not of a kind in which a first- 
 rate artist would show at his best. Such an artist M. 
 Remenyi is, and as such he will be acknowledged 
 beyond a doubt. . . . 
 
 As an artist, M. Remenyi combines perfect mastery 
 over the technical difficulties of his instrument 
 with a strongly pronounced poetic individuality. His 
 whole soul is in his playing, and his impulse carries 
 him away with it as he warms to his task, the im- 
 pression produced on the audience being, conse- 
 quently, on an ascending scale. He never tires, and 
 one never tires of him. Nothing more impressive 
 could well be imagined than hearing and seeing M. 
 Remenyi perform one of the stormier pieces of 
 Chopin transferred by him from the pianoforte to 
 
PRESS TRIBUTES 215 
 
 the violin, or a short fantasia of his own composition, 
 aptly called the " Heroic." But tenderer accents are 
 not wanting. The nocturnes of Chopin or of our 
 own Field are given with the tenderest dreaminess, 
 interrupted at intervals only by more impassioned 
 strains. His rendering also of Schubert's well-known 
 " Barcarole " is a masterpiece of sustained legato 
 playing. Another important feature of M. Re- 
 menyi's style is the national element. He strongly 
 maintains against Liszt the genuineness of Hun- 
 garian music, and has shown himself thoroughly 
 imbued with the spirit of that music by writing 
 several " Hungarian melodies," which have been 
 mistaken for popular tunes and actually adopted 
 as such by other composers. The same half-Eastern 
 spirit is observable in the strong rhythmical color- 
 ing of M. Remenyi's execution, seldom or never 
 attained in its original raciness by artists of Teu- 
 tonic origin. Such are the most striking features 
 of the vioHnist's style, but it must not be thought 
 that these quahties debar him from the serious and 
 congenial interpretation of classic masterpieces. His 
 repertoire comprises the names of Beethoven, Men- 
 delssohn, and Schumann, as well as those of Chopin 
 and Paganini. 
 
 — London Examiner, July 28, 1876. 
 
 M. Riviere's promenade concerts at Covent 
 Garden Theatre have thus far been attended with 
 
2i6 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 great success. The miscellaneous selection which 
 formed the second part of last night's concert was 
 chiefly remarkable for the splendid violin-playing of 
 Herr Remenyi, who introduced his own fantasia on 
 themes from " Les Huguenots." The composition 
 is skilfully and tastefully constructed, and afforded 
 occasions for the display of Herr Remenyi's powers 
 as a cantabile player, and as a brilliant executant of 
 bravura passages. The contralto air, " Nobil Don- 
 na," and the tenor air, " Ah, Piu Bianco," were 
 " sung " by him on the violin with a purity of phras- 
 ing and a grace of expression equalled by few operatic 
 vocalists, and his execution of florid passages was 
 simply marvellous. On several occasions during his 
 masterly performance the audience manifested their 
 delight by bursts of cheering, and at the conclusion 
 the demands for an encore were enthusiastic and 
 unanimous. 
 
 — London Globe, Oct. 12, 1878. 
 
 The first " classical " Wednesday night at M. 
 Riviere's concerts calls for a brief notice on our part. 
 Among the solo performances of the first part that of 
 M. Edouard Remenyi, the Hungarian violinist, de- 
 serves special mention. As regards volume and 
 beauty of tone, M. Remenyi ranks with the first 
 masters of his instrument, and his technical perfection 
 is second to few. In addition to this he has all 
 the verve and rhythmical decision peculiar to his 
 
PRESS TRIBUTES 217 
 
 nationality, and in the rendering of his native Hun- 
 garian airs he is absolutely unsurpassable. On the 
 present occasion, however, he showed that his talent 
 is not confined to one specialty, and his performance 
 of Spohr's eighth concerto for the violin was full of 
 breadth and classical repose. We expect to meet 
 with M. Remenyi's name in many concert pro- 
 grammes during the coming season. 
 
 — London Times, Oct. 10, 1878. 
 
 The appearance of distinguished violinists this 
 season before New York audiences has been among 
 the leading musical events. Last evening, notwith- 
 standing the threatening weather, Steinway Hall 
 was crowded with a brilliant assemblage, desirous of 
 witnessing the dehut of Edouard Remenyi. How a 
 violinist looks is always very interesting, for between 
 the instrument and the performer we are apt to create 
 certain imaginary sympathies. Remenyi for all the 
 world looks like some good French abhi who could 
 better intone a mass than draw dehcate and bewitch- 
 ing tones from his instrument. This artist's manner, 
 as far as pose goes, is exceedingly quiet and deliber- 
 ate. Once the instrument is in the violinist's hands 
 the somewhat lethargic face of the performer changes, 
 though imperceptibly. His eyes rarely look at the 
 audience. Entirely absorbed in the music he is pro- 
 ducing, his whole being seems to be centred on his 
 instrument. It was but necessary to listen to the first 
 
2i8 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 few bars of Mendelssohn's concerto, to be satisfied 
 that the instrumentalist was a virtuoso of the first 
 order. Remenyi's tones are wonderfully clear and 
 delicate, and have a sonority which is absolutely per- 
 fect. One marked peculiarity of his style is his 
 method of bowing. Effects of the most minute pre- 
 cision are produced by the archet touching the strings 
 while the bow does not move apparently an eighth of 
 an inch. When the bow is put on and taken off can- 
 not be seen. It is the wonderful sentiment, the pas- 
 sion, the feeling, which distinguishes Remenyi from 
 any other violinist we have yet heard in the United 
 States. This instrumentalist had given him last 
 evening no less than three entrees in the programme. 
 Mendelssohn's concerto, the andante and the rondo ; 
 three solos for the violin (the nocturne in E flat of 
 Chopin, with the mazurka and " Hungarian melo- 
 dies "), concluding with two strange capriccios of 
 Paganini, Nos. 21 and 24. The well-known Men- 
 delssohn concerto was, as to the andante, produced 
 by Remenyi in rather slower time than we have been 
 accustomed to hear it. We suppose this concerto, 
 considered properly as belonging to the modem 
 classic school, was introduced in the programme in 
 order that a critical audience should at the start 
 become assured of the power of the violinist. It was 
 played with wonderful charm and exquisite feeling, 
 and at its conclusion the performer was applauded to 
 the echo, and recalled four times. Familiar as we all 
 
PRESS TRIBUTES 219 
 
 are with Chopin, Remenyi's production of this great 
 master was a revelation. If the nocturne was fully 
 appreciated, the mazurka, played with an abandon 
 and passion, brought from the foreign element in the 
 house the wildest tokens of delight. The " Melodie 
 Hongroise " was equally well rendered. Here the 
 apparently quiet nature of the violinist seemed to lose 
 its restraint, and as the national lyric was brought 
 singing from the strings of the Stradivarius the effect 
 was magical. For an encore, Schubert's " Serenade" 
 was played. The peculiar capriccios of Paganini 
 were most charmingly rendered, and a whole flood 
 of delicate harmonies was produced. 
 
 — New York Times, Nov. 12, 1878. 
 
 The expectations raised concerning M. Edouard 
 Remenyi's talent as a violin virtuoso — expectations, 
 be it said, which rose considerably above the plane 
 of agreeable anticipation, inasmuch as Liszt, The- 
 ophile Gautier, and the leading music critics of 
 France and England have long been unanimous in 
 his praise — were all fulfilled by his performance at 
 last evening's concert in Steinway Hall. His appear- 
 ance was greeted with uncommon enthusiasm by 
 an audience which filled the house to overflowing, 
 and before the first part of the concert ended it was 
 clear that the newcomer had scored a great artistic 
 and popular success. His interpretation of the Men- 
 delssohn concerto was followed by four recalls, in 
 
220 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 which cheers mingled with plaudits, and the minor 
 pieces which he subsequently rendered literally took 
 the spectators by storm. M. Remenyi is not only 
 a master of technique, but a violinist in whose play- 
 ing sentiment, elegance, poetry, and expressiveness are 
 unusually conspicuous' elements. His instrument is 
 a palette of sound, on which every color and shade 
 lie within summons of his magic bow. Where his 
 work calls for pure cantabile, his execution is appar- 
 ently of the utmost simplicity; where the theme is 
 embroidered by the composer's fancy, it takes on a 
 picturesque grace which adds largely to its effective- 
 ness. In the lovely adagio of the Mendelssohn 
 concerto, for example, in which he took the time 
 much slower than less impressible violinists are in- 
 clined to do, his manner was one of unimpeachable 
 tranquillity and dignity; in the vivacious rondo, on 
 the contrary, his bow arm appeared to catch something 
 of the fairylike designs of the composer, and the 
 bow fairly danced over the strings with a lightness 
 and playfulness befitting a frolic of elves in a moon- 
 lit glade. Some points of Remenyi's playing, while 
 their beauty and eloquence were plain enough not to 
 require analysis, deserve attention. That his tone 
 is of exquisite sweetness goes without saying, but it 
 is particularly beautiful from the fact that the per- 
 former's power to sustain it is practically unlimited. 
 The change of bowing — from an up bow to a down 
 bow, and vice versa, can never be detected by the ear; 
 
PRESS TRIBUTES 221 
 
 and thus some marvellous effects are obtained by the 
 virtuoso. Then Remenyi's staccato is of unequalled 
 brilliancy of timbre and evenness, and his use of the 
 bow in producing it — the length of hair em- 
 ployed being perceptible — is as delightful to the eye 
 as its tones are pleasing to the ear. It seems a pity, 
 however, to dwell upon technicahties in speaking of 
 such a performance as the Hungarian artist suppHed 
 last night. A record of its charm is of far easier 
 preparation, and doubtless of more general interest. 
 — ^New York Evening Express, Nov. 12, 1878. 
 
 Edguard Remenyi, the famous Hungarian vio- 
 linist, made his first bow to an American audience on 
 Monday evening in Steinway Hall. Every seat was 
 filled, and among the interested Hsteners were many 
 of the countrymen of the great artist. The pro- 
 gramme was arranged apparently with a view to 
 show his mastery of all styles, containing, as it 
 did, compositions by Mendelssohn, Chopin, and Pag- 
 anini. He began by playing two movements of the 
 concerto by Mendelssohn, and, as he walked on the 
 stage in a quiet, unassuming way, he was greeted 
 with a hearty welcome. Simply in a musical sense 
 Wieniawski has played the andante better, and Ca- 
 milla Urso and Joseph White have done as well in the 
 rondo, but none of them could equal the grace and 
 delicacy of Remenyi's playing. His second selection 
 was a group of three pieces — nocturne in E flat, 
 
222 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 Op. 9, No. 2, Chopin; "Melodies Heroiques" and 
 " Lyriques Hongroises," transcribed by Remenyi, 
 and Chopin's mazurka, Op. 7, No. i. The nocturne 
 gave an opportunity for a display of the merits of 
 his playing, and was a revelation. His tone is sym- 
 pathetic, penetrating, nervous, tremulous with feel- 
 ing, yet not always of a perfect intonation, nor yet so 
 full and broad as that of a great artist we have 
 lately heard, and whose very opposite he is. In the 
 nocturne his phrasing, the exquisite delicacy and grace 
 of his execution, and the tender and loving treatment 
 of the melody were simply perfect. The impression 
 he had produced was deepened by the Hungarian 
 melodies and the Chopin mazurka, the audience 
 being aroused to a state of enthusiastic excitement. 
 After several recalls he played Schubert's " Sere- 
 nade " with much sweetness and eager intensity, 
 but with a tendency to over-ornamentation. The 
 concert closed with two of Paganini's capriccios — 
 the first a slow movement designed to show the 
 artist's tone and strength of repose, and the second 
 a brilliant show piece, containing a difficult passage 
 in harmonies, full of turns and other grace notes, 
 which was splendidly done. His repertory is very 
 large, covering apparently almost the whole field of 
 violin music, from the severer works of Bach, Beeth- 
 oven, Mozart, and Mendelssohn, down to those of 
 the later violin composers. Besides these he plays 
 a number of transcriptions of his own of all sorts. 
 
PRESS TRIBUTES 223 
 
 Chopin's nocturnes, mazurkas, and waltzes. Field's 
 nocturnes, Schubert's songs, and a vast number of 
 selections from operas of all sorts, from Mozart to 
 Wagner. His rendering of Paganini's two capric- 
 cios, Nos. 21 and 24, was brilliant, and the mazurka 
 (Chopin) elicited the wildest enthusiasm. In fact, 
 everything the artist played was greeted with the 
 most exuberant tokens of satisfaction and deHght. 
 —New York Musical Times, Nov. 16, 1878. 
 
 In appearance this player has the semblance of 
 a priest rather than that of an artist, although a 
 phrenologist would find the frontal development of 
 his cranium remarkably strong in the musical faculty. 
 In stature the artist is short, in figure stocky. With 
 his style of playing physique is all-important, for it 
 is the embodiment of suppressed intensity, fired, in 
 flashes, with the wildest abandon. Comparisons will, 
 of course, at this time be sought of the Hungarian 
 with the German artist who so recently preceded 
 him. Such cannot fairly or satisfactorily be made. 
 Wilhelmj's school is in the lofty mould of the clas- 
 sics; Remenyi's is of form and kind less classic, but 
 absolutely his own. His face marks him as sui 
 generis, and his playing is the reflex of the subtle 
 power, the matchless self-command, that speaks 
 from his eloquent eye and lurks about the comers of 
 his expressive mouth. He is a master of his instru- 
 ment, and no other violinist has ever inspired greater 
 
224 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 confidence, or shown such absolute certainty of 
 attack. His rendering of piano passages is ex- 
 quisitely delicate. His cantabile playing is singu- 
 larly sweet, and not once in the seven widely varied 
 numbers given did he make a harsh note or " saw " 
 the strings, as even the best artists may at times 
 permit themselves to do. His touch is, in fact, mar- 
 vellous, and the effects that he makes in diminu- 
 endo passages are surpassingly beautiful. He seems 
 to make his instrument a part of himself and it 
 glows and burns and flames under his master-hand, 
 ever en rapport with the strange magnetism of the 
 artistes powerful individuaHty. That these attributes 
 would not assert so emphatic an effect in music of 
 the purely classic school, where the artist is, neces- 
 sarily, restrained somewhat, must be at once evident, 
 and in the grand concerto by Mendelssohn, played 
 in the first part, they were suggested rather than ex- 
 hibited. 
 
 — New York Herald, Nov. 17, 1878. 
 
 The Hungarian violinist, Edouard Remenyi, who 
 made his first appearance in America last night in 
 Steinway Hall, is one of those phenomenal artists 
 who can be measured by the standard of no other 
 man. Comparison, in most cases, is but a pinchbeck 
 criticism, and with such an exceptional and original 
 performer as this it is entirely useless. All his work 
 bears the mark of his own strong character; and in 
 
PRESS TRIBUTES 225 
 
 everything that he does, whether we consider the 
 intellectual conception of the piece or the technical 
 execution of it, the differences which separate him 
 from other violinists are differences not so much in 
 the degree of merit as in kind. Perhaps, indeed, 
 there is one particular in which it is proper to com- 
 pare him with Wilhelmj, but there is only one. When 
 we are told that Remenyi is " the Liszt of the violin," 
 we naturally expect to hear from his instrument a 
 full and robust tone. We do hear a remarkably 
 pure, even, and effective tone, but it lacks something 
 of that masculine splendor which distinguishes Wil- 
 helmj 's, just as his style lacks the grand breadth, 
 dignity, and majestic repose of the famous German. 
 Remenyi's fascination is exerted by charms of another 
 sort. In mere technical facility he yields to no one. 
 In the power of expressing a certain order of emotions 
 we do not believe he has a rival. In fire, brilliancy, 
 and daring he reminds us of the accounts that have 
 been written of Paganini. His first selection last night 
 was a part of Mendelssohn's violin concerto, the 
 second and third movements. The andante was very 
 purely and beautifully played, with no excess of senti- 
 ment, to say the least, rather quicker than we are ac- 
 customed to hear it, and with perhaps an unexpected 
 degree of composure. It was not until the rondo 
 was reached that the violinist showed his quahty, 
 illuminating the whole movement with a strange fire, 
 at which the elegant Mendelssohn, if he was aware 
 
226 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 of it, must have stared in amazement. A still better 
 display of his characteristic powers was afforded by 
 a group of Chopin pieces, whose romantic spirit and 
 freedom in rhythmic structure seemed just suited to 
 his temper. 
 
 — New York Tribune, Nov. 12, 1878. 
 
 It is evident that this celebrated violinist has 
 entered upon a successful American career. His 
 performance on Monday night satisfied the audience 
 that he is a remarkable example of a school of art that 
 is not altogether familiar with our people, and his 
 second concert at Steinway Hall strengthened the 
 favorable impression made by him on his first appear- 
 ance. It has already been written that he is distinctive 
 in method, possesses an individuality of his own mak- 
 ing, and is utterly unlike his great compeers, Wilhelmj 
 and Ole Bull. Where Wilhelmj is majestic and 
 almost frigid, yet classically beautiful in his strong 
 harmonies, Remenyi is simply romantic. Where Ole 
 Bull scatters his poetical brilliants and, confident of 
 his artistic effects, throws off the lights and shadows 
 of his forty years of experience among the melodies of 
 every country in which he has sojourned, Remenyi 
 when left to himself, pours out the poetry of his own 
 warm Hungarian nature. Copying the sentiments 
 of Beethoven, and even introducing, as he did last 
 night, his own lengthy cadenza, there was much 
 wanting to elicit more than merely compHmentary 
 
PRESS TRIBUTES 227 
 
 enthusiasm; but when in subsequent numbers he 
 performed the " Nocturne de la Rose " (in A major, 
 No. 4), the " Barcarole " by Schubert, and Chopin's 
 valse (Op. 64, No. i), transcribed and arranged by 
 himself, and as the closing feature of the programme 
 played his own composition, " Introduction Guer- 
 riere " and the Hungarian " Marche Nationale," 
 there was no room left for doubt that a great artist 
 and executant was in our midst, and that he will 
 worthily retain his share of the field that is now being 
 so well occupied by the other two great artists whose 
 names have been mentioned. The peculiarities of 
 Remenyi's playing are, first, his apparent absence of 
 mind. He rarely seems to realize that an audience 
 is in front of him until he is awakened as from a 
 dream by the applause. Second, he is full of senti- 
 ment. He appears to enjoy a revel among the soft, 
 low, and tender notes of his violin rather than the 
 diabolic style which once made Sivori say he never 
 felt fully inspired until he saw Satan's tail protruding 
 from the apertures of his instrument. It is this 
 method which is calculated to make Remenyi popu- 
 lar. He plays from his heart and is sympathetic. 
 — New York Herald, Nov. 14, 1878. 
 
 The concert of last night was attended by a very 
 large audience, which became, before the close of the 
 evening, one of the most enthusiastic audiences ever 
 assembled in the Music Hall. Edouard Remenyi 
 
328 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 is a great violinist, and the pleasure of hearing him 
 now is increased by the inevitable and interesting 
 comparison which every one makes between him and 
 Wilhelmj. The latter has the obvious and super- 
 ficial advantage of looking the artist that he really 
 is; but no one could divine that Remenyi's short, stout 
 figure, bald head, ruddy complexion, and almost 
 grotesquely jolly countenance belonged to a musician 
 whose spirit is endowed with the finest sensibility 
 and has been touched by the poetic fire. Yet such is 
 indeed the fact. Remenyi is one of the first of living 
 violinists in his mastery of the technique of the instru- 
 ment. His tone has great strength, richness, and 
 resonance, and is only inferior in these qualities to 
 that of Wilhelmj, who in sonorous volume surpasses, 
 we think, any player ever heard in this country. 
 Remenyi's phrasing is beautiful, and it is only in 
 breadth that his style is of less worth than Wilhelmj's. 
 The Hungarian performer is likely to be the more pop- 
 ular of the two; he is more showy and specious; has an 
 intensity of style which is perhaps more immediately 
 telling and contagious because it is nearer the surface, 
 and has an absolute and conscious control of all that 
 is effective in his art. We do not mean to imply that 
 Remenyi is in the least a charlatan; the very con- 
 trary is true; but the quality of his genius is lighter, 
 swifter, more brilliant and dazzling than Wilhelmj's, 
 as well as less profound and less suggestive. The 
 difference between the two men as players is some- 
 
PRESS TRIBUTES 229 
 
 thing like that between Mozart and Beethoven as 
 composers ; and there is no reason why each should 
 not occupy his own lofty position. Remenyi shows 
 himself possessed of a singularly mercurial and 
 sensitive fancy, which, in the interpretation of com- 
 positions like Chopin's nocturnes, expresses itself 
 with truly poetic dreaminess, while in a waltz by 
 the same composer it is clothed in colors like those 
 of the rainbow. He has, as is natural, a peculiar 
 sympathy with the Hungarian music, and his per- 
 formance of it is more bewilderingly fascinating than 
 that of any artist whom we have heard ; the strange 
 and stirring rhythms having a new significance and 
 beauty as they are marked by his instrument. No 
 player, also, that we can recall, surpasses, perhaps 
 none equals, Remenyi in the ability to work up to the 
 height of a musical climax, not with crude violence 
 of style, but with steady growing and absolutely con- 
 tagious intensity. 
 
 — Boston Daily Advertiser, Nov. 21, 1878. 
 
 Great violinists have conspired together to make 
 true the old saw that " it never rains but it pours." 
 Wilhelmj has hardly left us when his countryman, 
 Remenyi, swoops down upon our city and carries 
 off what honors were left to be won. As if this were 
 not enough, Ole Bull steps in with his winning, pa- 
 ternal smile, and delights his crowds of sworn ad- 
 mirers as if nothing unusual had happened. But 
 
230 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 our present business is with Remenyi, who made his 
 first bow (or drew his first bow) in Boston last 
 Wednesday evening in the Music Hall. Not quite 
 his first though, for some of us can remember him 
 years ago in the Kossuth time, a slim young man, 
 playing delightfully. . . . 
 
 The very appearance of the man, as he stepped 
 forward upon the stage, was a good earnest of what 
 we were to expect from his playing. The good- 
 natured, close-shaven face — a perfect abbi face of the 
 time of Charles X — is full of that humor which 
 Thackeray has defined as a union of wit and love. 
 The innate tact, that power of pleasing for pleas- 
 ing's sake, which is expressed in the easy, curvilinear 
 movements of his body as he walks, — movements 
 which no Anglo-Saxon could hope to imitate, gracious 
 and graceful, yet prevented from being languid and 
 sentimental by a touch of sprightly bonhomie, — all 
 these indicate plainly enough, if physiognomy and 
 bearing indicate anything, the artistic quality of the 
 man. Nor were these prognostics deceptive. Of 
 all the fascinating violinists ever heard here, Remenyi 
 must be called the most bewitching. Like all fas- 
 cinating players he has a slight tendency toward some- 
 thing akin to mannerism; he is perhaps too fond 
 of constant pianissimo effects, yet a certain fine 
 esthetic perception saves him from mawkishness, 
 and we feel that there is more of elegance and grace 
 in his somewhat excessive deHcacy than there is of 
 
PRESS TRIBUTES 231 
 
 callow sentimentalism. His tone is always pure 
 and delicate; it has an almost cloying sweetness, re- 
 minding one of some of the delicious, sensuous 
 flute and reed effects in Berlioz's orchestration, yet 
 when he attacks strong passages, it acquires a rare 
 pungency of timbre that is as brilliant and telling as 
 that of a fine metallic tenor voice. His technique is 
 absolute, so perfect that it needs no comment. His 
 playing of numbers 21 and 24 of Paganini's capric- 
 cios (the latter of which is known to pianists as the 
 last of Liszt's formidable set of studies after Paganini) 
 showed the music in a new light. Violinist after 
 violinist has tried his hand at Paganini's music, but 
 without effect, so thin and poor is its musical essence; 
 with so little effect, indeed, that some persons have 
 been led to conjecture that the composer himself 
 never could have intoxicated his hearers, as he is re- 
 ported to have done, by pla)dng it as it is written. It 
 seemed impossible that such poor stuff should have 
 ever been effective. These capriccios are poor stuff 
 it is true, musically speaking, but if a man have the 
 devil in him, they offer a rare chance for showing 
 it. As Remenyi played them (especially the latter 
 one), they were like the friskiest champagne — no, 
 not champagne, but hot champagne punch, if such a 
 beverage exists. One listened to them as if bitten 
 by a rabid tarantula; it was irresistible. And yet all 
 this bewildering effect was produced without trickery; 
 by simple, contagious, personal magnetism. 
 
 — Boston Courier, Nov. 24, 1878. 
 
232 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 The first concert of the Philharmonic Society of 
 New York, under the direction of its new conductor, 
 Mr. Adolph Neuendorf, took place at the Academy of 
 Music on Saturday evening, November 23d. . . . 
 In the melodies, Remenyi's phrasing and depth of 
 expression were marvellously beautiful and intense, 
 his intonation perfect; in the bravura sense, though 
 the execution seemingly left nothing to be wished 
 for, it could not be adequately enjoyed, from the fact 
 that the violin at times seemed quite a semitone 
 higher than the orchestra. . . . Remenyi proved 
 his unique powers to their utmost in two smaller 
 selections from Chopin — the nocturne in E flat and 
 the mazurka in B flat, in which he again delighted 
 his audience by his remarkable delicacy of execution 
 and tone, facility in the reproduction of ornamental 
 portions, and his artistic expression of poetical sen- 
 timent. After each performance, he had quite a 
 triumph in the way of applause, and was obliged to 
 respond twice to the demand for encores. 
 
 — Musical Trade Review, Nov. 30, 1878. 
 
 The chief features of the Philharmonic's initial 
 concert of its twenty-first season were the presence 
 of Theodore Thomas as conductor, Remenyi as 
 violin soloist, and the advent of a Brooklyn lady as 
 a public vocalist. Miss Annie McCollum. Of Theo- 
 dore Thomas little need be said beyond that his 
 magnetism as a conductor was made very conspicu- 
 
PRESS TRIBUTES 233 
 
 ous by contrasting its effect with that attained by 
 Mr. Dietrich, although, to be sure, the latter gentle- 
 man has all the drudgery and no opportunity of 
 winning the laurels. M. Remenyi was not quite at 
 home in several severely classical passages. In the 
 andante of the Mendelssohn concerto, the tone pro- 
 duced seemed uncertain and spiritlessly weak. But 
 in his own transcription of Hungarian melodies and 
 Chopin's nocturne and mazurka, his style changed, 
 and the player became inspired under numbers more 
 natural to his taste and style. The audience really 
 acknowledged the genius of the virtuoso, and par- 
 ticularly during the clear-cut and very definable 
 pianissimo passages, in which he is unapproachable, 
 appeared oblivious of existence in their rapt attention. 
 Those passages of his have wonderful effect. To close 
 one's eyes, one might imagine, in the dead silence, 
 the house to be empty. Not even a breath is heard; 
 not a programme rustles; and if, at the moment of 
 one of those far-off yet distinct strains, some unlucky 
 wight chances to open the door and enter, he is 
 frowned into immovability. 
 
 Again, the audience never loses trace of the rhythm, 
 may the passage or the musical composition be ever 
 so strongly involved, and twisted, and rambling 
 from key to key, from chord to chord. And having 
 said all of this, one has n't even reached a tithe of a 
 description which can furnish an idea of this master's 
 performance. Those wonderful virtuoso artifices, 
 
234 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 which require almost legerdemain and sleight-of-hand 
 to accomplish, which with the great player are usu- 
 ally each the culmination of an effort — he scatters 
 them about continually, and in never-ceasing show- 
 ers, as an apple tree scatters blossoms in a spring 
 storm! And the delicacy, the pearliness, the intri- 
 cacy of these ornamentations, these instrumental 
 fireworks that glitter and flash over his play! It 
 was the realization of an old dream, the stepping into 
 life of a slight, short, dark, queer figure that the early 
 authors of this century have described; it was, in 
 a word, the picture of what Paganini must have 
 been. The magnetism of presence, the almost de- 
 moniac influence exerted over his audience, the 
 magician on the violin over again, who evoked what 
 sounds he wished, did with the instrument as he 
 listed,— it was just what Paganini was described to 
 have been. The comparison may not be new, — it 
 probably is not, — for it must strike every one who 
 hears Remenyi. 
 
 — Music Trade Review, Dec. 21, 1887. 
 
 When Remenyi came upon the stage he was re- 
 ceived with hearty applause. Nothing in his appear- 
 ance tells of the poetic or artistic genius within. 
 Little as Wilhelmj looked like a great and poetic 
 artist, Remenyi looks less so. But this is only the 
 seeming. With the first few minutes' playing on the 
 violin there is a transformation in the man, a trans- 
 
PRESS TRIBUTES 235 
 
 figuration, one would almost say. His play fills and 
 possesses the hearer, and one ceases to have eyes, 
 one has only ears — ears and an imagination. And 
 now comes the difficulty of specifying the particular 
 qualities that distinguish this performance. It is great 
 by right of the wonderfully clear, sweet tones, the 
 surpassing technique, the utter command of re- 
 sources, and the finished, brilliant production. But 
 its peculiarity lies deep in sentiment delicately and 
 touchingly expressed, and in culminations that are 
 radiant in their power and effect; also, in a delicacy 
 of treatment which seems like infinite tenderness, and 
 a poetic fragrance and fervor that continually suggest 
 pictures and words, as an incarnation of sounds. 
 
 And now the reader who was not present will imag- 
 ine that all has been told of Remenyi. Not the half 
 nor the quarter! There is a wonderful intensity 
 that vivifies and points his play, an almost piercing 
 intensity, which sends it to the brain of every hearer, 
 straight like an arrow. Not to the heart, for you are 
 too much astonished, too much overwhelmed to feel 
 deeply. Then there are color and expression which 
 markedly and unmistakably vibrate in the faintest 
 pianissimos, in those passages that float through the 
 house like a spirit-breath, that are more felt than 
 heard, — in those passages as well as in the broad 
 violoncello sounds, in the mad runs, in the pearly 
 trills, in everything! 
 
 — Hartford Daily Times, Dec. 20, 1878. 
 
236 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 Pike's Opera House was filled last night with an 
 audience congregated to greet the eminent pianist, 
 Julia Rive-King, assisted by Edouard Remenyi, the 
 Hungarian violinist, Gertrude Franklin, a soprano 
 vocalist of New York, and the Thomas Orchestra. 
 No. 2, the concerto (andante and rondo) by Men- 
 delssohn, brought to the front the celebrated violinist, 
 Remenyi. The pure, beautiful, entrancing tones 
 from Remenyi's wonderful instrument seemed to 
 talk with words of sympathy and consolation. It 
 was soul-music, heart-music, brain-music, tender, 
 touching, sympathetic, and melancholy, delicate as a 
 summer zephyr. At times it seemed like moonbeams 
 filtered to earth from a spring night's sky. The 
 rondo opened with the horns, a short prelude, fol- 
 lowed with a rapid staccato movement. Every note 
 of the melody seemed a diamond, clear and bright 
 as a raindrop 'neath a summer sun. Then came 
 long sustained notes, sandwiched between the very 
 quick movements, made so much the more fairylike 
 and impressive by contrast. The audience became 
 so enthused with the performance that at short in- 
 tervals storms of applause caused the hall to reecho, 
 and at the close of the piece, shouts, the clapping of 
 hands, and evidences of approbation and delight 
 recalled the distinguished artist, who generously 
 played Schubert's " Serenade " with a tenderness and 
 feeling we have never heard surpassed. It was as 
 sweet as the " first whisperings of love." Even 
 
PRESS TRIBUTES 237 
 
 Thomas joined in the recognition of eminent talent, 
 and split the palms of his white kids in token 
 thereof. 
 
 — Cincinnati Commercial, Jan. 30, 1879. 
 
 Remenyi has that fire and passion which thrill, 
 stir, and fascinate. Wilhelmj was classic and colos- 
 sal; Remenyi is romantic and poetical. There is the 
 same difference between them that there is between 
 Beethoven and Berlioz as composers, or between an 
 antique statue and a highly wrought picture of the 
 modem French school. Theodore Thomas covered 
 the ground very completely when he said that Wil- 
 helmj played to the musician and Remenyi to the 
 musicians and the other people. The dullest lis- 
 tener, who might hear Wilhelmj unmoved, could not 
 help being stirred by Remenyi. His contrasts are 
 very broad. In the Chopin nocturne, and the Schu- 
 bert " Serenade," which he gave for an encore, and 
 in the first of the Paganini capriccios, which is a slow 
 movement, he played with exquisite tenderness, and 
 at times with a delicacy almost feminine, producing 
 a tone full of sweetness and a peculiarly dreamy, fas- 
 cinating effect. Again, as in the Hungarian melodies, 
 the " Otello Fantasie," and the second Paganini 
 capriccio, with a fervor, fire, and abandon which 
 were irresistible. His technique is simply bound- 
 less and equal to any emergency. In this respect he 
 is the peer of any living player we have heard. It is 
 
238 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 simply electrifying, strangely fascinating, and mag- 
 netic as was that of Rubinstein as compared with 
 Von Billow. His bowing is often eccentric, and there 
 is a grotesqmrie at times in his work that closely 
 approaches the sensational, but there is no opportu- 
 nity to criticise such a player. He sweeps criticism 
 and every sort of objection away. A man with the 
 temperament of an iceberg might perhaps dissect his 
 playing, but unless he is at that degree of frigidity 
 he can remember little else but the potent spell of 
 the fascination which this great player weaves around 
 him, the exquisite colors, the dazzling brilliancy, 
 and the absolute abandon of his work. 
 
 — Chicago Tribune, Feb. 5, 1879. 
 
 The greeting awarded to the distinguished Hun- 
 garian violinist last evening was one of extraordinary 
 fervor, and the occasion was in all respects a great 
 one of its kind. . . . 
 
 It has been said of Remenyi that he is a Liszt of 
 the violin, for the reason perhaps that he possesses a 
 mysterious power over the weird, pathetic, appealing 
 tones of his instrument. It should be said, rather, that 
 he is a poet of the violin, and that he is great enough 
 in his own right to stand alone without being bols- 
 tered up by a simile which involves the name of 
 any other master. Coming as he does so soon after 
 Wilhelmj, the sharp contrast of his style inevitably 
 suggests a comparison with that eminent virtuoso. 
 
PRESS TRIBUTES 239 
 
 It is a comparison which illustrates the different 
 phases of genius, but detracts nothing from either 
 master. The Hungarian is not impressive in per- 
 sonal appearance. His stature is below the medium, 
 and his face is rather that of a sleek, well-fed abbS 
 of a French village than of a musician who plays 
 to kings and capitals. Neither is he a graceful 
 player, and his habit of whirling the bow over his 
 head and striking a powerful staccato note as it de- 
 scends upon the strings would seem meretricious if 
 it were not evidently unpremeditated. There is in 
 Remenyi Httle suggestion of the pure classicism of 
 Wilhelmj, the calm, noble dignity, the broad purity 
 and grace of style which have made the latter unriv- 
 alled in his special field. But Remenyi is not less great 
 in his way. He is the most individual and charac- 
 teristic of viohnists. His playing is the refinement 
 of poetic sentiment and dehcate execution. He 
 takes large license with his composer, and is most 
 felicitous in his renditions of Chopin, whose dainty 
 rhythmic measures impose but shght restrictions 
 upon the performer in respect to tempo and expres- 
 sion. His command of his instrument is complete, 
 and unlike that of any other master unless there may 
 be in it perhaps a suggestion of Vieuxtemps. It is 
 difficult at times to see how the effect is produced; 
 the bow seems to make a succession of round, crisp 
 notes with hardly a perceptible movement on the 
 strings; anon the fire of his hot-blooded race seems 
 
240 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 to break out, the player closes his eyes, bends for- 
 ward, and every string of his violin seems to quiver 
 and speak at once. In the programme of last even- 
 ing the violinist had three numbers, Ernst's " Otello 
 Fantasie," a nocturne and mazurka by Chopin, with 
 his own transcription of a Hungarian melody, and, 
 finally, two characteristic capriccios by Paganini. 
 These, with the attendant encores, gave him an 
 arduous evening, but he played with evident enjoy- 
 ment, and was received with enthusiastic favor. 
 As an enchanted visitor from one of the neighboring 
 counties remarked, it was " the silkiest fiddlin' he 
 had ever heard." 
 
 — Cleveland Leader, Feb. ii, 1879. 
 
 Mr. Pugh gave to his Star Course audience last 
 evening one of the best concerts that has been given 
 in Philadelphia for a long time. The important 
 feature of it was the violin-playing of Remenyi, the 
 Hungarian violinist, whose performance had the rare 
 merit of equalling, if not surpassing, its promise, as 
 well as the reports from other cities. There have 
 been many noisier and more demonstrative players 
 of his instrument here, and some that have done very 
 astonishing things. But in delicacy of tone and 
 elegance of touch with the fingers and the bow, com- 
 bined with intellectual and emotional expression in 
 interpreting music, scarcely any one can be fairly 
 said to have equalled him. 
 
PRESS TRIBUTES 241 
 
 Remenyi played Ernst's fantasia on " Otello " as 
 it has rarely, if ever, been played here, and for an 
 encore gave a transcription of Schubert's " Serenade," 
 which was remarkable as he played it, for no other 
 violinist could so fill with human tenderness an air 
 written for the voice. Later in the evening his tran- 
 scriptions of piano compositions by Chopin showed 
 the same rare power of taking another's work and 
 inspiring it with the soul that dwells in his instrument. 
 The characteristic Hungarian airs, however, showed 
 him at his best^ and perhaps it was well that he con- 
 cluded with some of Paganini's gymnastic work, 
 just to show that he could do it as well as anybody. 
 But evidently his art is seen to most advantage in 
 music of the graceful, tender sort, in which the artist 
 can express or respond to the feeling of the composer. 
 When playing pianissimo, now in sustained measure, 
 and again in a rush of delicate cadences; now with 
 the full tone of the strings, and again in harmonics, 
 the purity of which we have never heard equalled, 
 there is always an expression of thorough feeling as 
 well as of perfect technique. 
 
 — Philadelphia Evening Bulletin, 
 
 Mar. 25, 1879. 
 
REMENYI'S COMPOSITIONS* 
 
 Tibor Remenyi, son of the violinist, furnishes the 
 following partial list of his father's compositions: 
 
 1. Fantasia " Les Huguenots " (dedicated to the 
 
 Emperor of Germany). 
 
 2. " Valse Nobile " (for violin). 
 
 3. Introduction and "Marche Hongroise." 
 
 4. Fantasia, " Barbier de Seville.'' 
 
 5. " Hymn of Liberty" (for chorus and orchestra). 
 
 6. " The Death of Gezirel Hassan." 
 
 7. ^^ Tragedy." 
 
 8. Two concertos for violin. 
 
 9. " Hungarian Hymn." 
 
 10. '' Nouvelle Ecole du Violon." 
 
 11. "Trois Morceaux Hongrois." 
 
 12. "Home, Sweet Home " (arrangement). 
 
 13. Choral Theme. 
 
 14. Transcription of Field's Nocturnes. 
 
 15. Transcription of Chopin's Polonaises. 
 
 16. Several transcriptions from Bach and Schubert. 
 
 *Remenyi's principal work in composing was in his remarkable adap- 
 tations or arrangements of music for practical use for the violin, or the 
 violin with other instruments, his great desire being to increase what he 
 called " the literature of the violin.** — G. D. K. 
 
 242 
 
Programme of 
 
 REMENYI'S FIRST CONCERT IN THE 
 UNITED STATES (1850) 
 
 EDOUARD REMENYI, 
 Violinist, late from Hungary, 
 Begs to announce to the lovers of music that his 
 Grand Vocal and Instrumental 
 Concert 
 will take place at 
 Niblo's Saloon, Saturday evening, January 19, 1850. 
 On which occasion he will be assisted by the following artists: 
 Madame Stephani 
 A native Hungarian (her first appearance) 
 Mr. Wm. Scharfenberg 
 Mr. H. C. Timm 
 And an efficient orchestra under the direction of 
 Mr. Th. Eisfeld. 
 
 PROGRAMME 
 Parti 
 
 1. Overture to "Othello" .... Rossini. 
 
 Orchestra. 
 
 2. Concerto for the violin .... Vieuxtemps. 
 
 M. Remenyi. 
 
 3. Aria from **I1 Flauto Magico" . . ^ Mozart. 
 
 Mme. Stephani. 
 
 4. Capriccio for the piano . . . Mendelssohn. 
 
 Mr. Scharfenberg. 
 
 5. Concerto for the violin Molique. 
 
 M. Remenyi. 
 
 243 
 
244 EDOUARD REMENYI 
 
 Part II 
 
 6. Overture to "Felsenmiihle" . . . Reissiger. 
 
 Orchestra. 
 
 7 . Aria from * ' Prd aux Clercs. ' ' With obligato 
 
 accompaniment of violin .... Hirold. 
 Mme. Stephani and M. Remenyi. 
 
 8. Duo for violin and piano, on moti}s from 
 
 "Sonnambula" De Beriot. 
 
 Mr. Timm and M. Remenyi. 
 
 9. Aria 
 
 Mme. Stephani. 
 
 10. Hungarian Native Melodies .... 
 
 M. Remenyi (arranged by himself). 
 
 Remenyi made the following observations on this 
 programme twenty-eight years after it was given: 
 " I was then a mere child, only fourteen years old, 
 and I did not look to be any more than nine or ten. 
 I did not begin to grow until I was eighteen or nine- 
 teen, and I did not grow very tall then. My family 
 was exiled for participating in the war for the inde- 
 pendence of Hungary. I bore a small part in that 
 Revolution myself, although I was but twelve years 
 old at the time. Kossuth came to America an exile, 
 in 1852, I think.* I began to play the violin when I 
 was nine years old, and the exiles in whose company 
 I came to New York spoke of my extraordinary ability 
 for one so young. We were very warmly received 
 in New York and shown every courtesy. I had no 
 money, and some charitable gentlemen of the city 
 
 * Kossuth arrived at Washington, on the invitation of the United 
 Statest December so, 1851. — Edr. 
 
FIRST CONCERT IN AMERICA 245 
 
 conceived the idea of giving a concert to furnish me 
 with funds to enable me to finish my musical edu- 
 cation abroad. I do not recollect the names of those 
 kind gentlemen — only one, a Mr. Bailey, who was 
 a rich merchant. They were pleased to think I had 
 a natural talent for the violin which was worth de- 
 veloping. I remained in the United States only five 
 or six months, and with the proceeds of this concert 
 I went to France and Germany to prosecute my 
 studies. I put myself under the instruction of the 
 great master Lizst and became, so he said, an apt 
 pupil." 
 
 " Oh," exclaimed Remenyi, with an expressive 
 gesture, " music in America was in its infancy. 
 You had comparatively nothing. Music in this 
 country to-day is in a flourishing state. More works 
 of the great masters are given in New York than in 
 many of the larger cities of Europe. Thomas did 
 a splendid work for New York; he gave many of your 
 people a fine musical education. And the people of 
 this city still have leaders like Dr. Damrosch, Carl- 
 berg, and Neuendorf. There can be no comparison 
 between music in New York in 1850 and 1878. The 
 growth and development of correct musical taste has 
 been wonderful." 
 
INDEX 
 
INDEX 
 
 ACT 
 
 Actors* Fund of America pre- 
 pared Remenyi's grave, no 
 
 Aid for a countryman, 72 
 
 Amati violins, 178-181 
 
 Ames, Miss, singer at White 
 House concert (1878), 124 
 
 Anderson, Dr. Winslow, Remen- 
 yi's physician, 104 
 
 Architecture and thoroughfares, 
 163, 164 
 
 Armstrong, Mrs., see Melba 
 
 "Auld Lang Syne," 137 
 
 "Auld Robin Grey," 137 
 
 Bach, Remenyi's admiration for 
 the works of, 175-177 
 
 Bailey, Mr., early friend of 
 Remenyi, 245 
 
 Baracs, Henri, 121 
 
 "Barcarole," Schubert, Remen- 
 yi's playing of, 204, 215 
 
 Batchelder, Prof. J. D., 129 
 
 Beethoven's national feeling, 142, 
 
 143 
 
 Blind auditors, Remenyi played 
 before, 59 
 
 Bohm, Auguste, music dealer of 
 Hamburg, 81 
 
 Bohm, Joseph, teacher of Re- 
 menyi, 10, 44 
 
 Bosanquet, 148 
 
 Boston C^wnVr (quoted), 229-231 
 
 CIN 
 
 Boston Daily Advertiser (quot- 
 ed), 227-229 
 
 Boston Evening Telegraph 
 (quoted), 124-126 
 
 Bourne, Robert W., 107 
 
 Bowing, Remenyi's method of, 
 218, 220, 221,224, 238 
 
 Brahms, Johannes, 11-15,63,79 
 
 95 
 Brendel, Franz, 16 
 Brown, Marcus, 107 
 Bull, Ole, 226, 229 
 Bumell, Dr., 148 
 
 Camp violinist, Remenyi as, 10, 
 
 II, 18,96, 121, 122 
 Campobello, Sig., singer at 
 
 White House concert (1878), 
 
 124 
 Caravaggio, a painting attributed 
 
 to, 183 
 Carlberg, — , musical leader, 245 
 "Carnival of Venice," 59, 140 
 Chapman, Henry D., Jr., 107 
 "Charlie is my Darling," 137 
 Chicago Tribune (quoted), 237^ 
 
 238 
 Chopin's national feeling, 141, 
 
 as interpreted by Remenyi, 
 
 219 
 Cincinnati Commercial (quoted), 
 
 235-237 
 
 249 
 
250 
 
 INDEX 
 
 CLE 
 
 Cleveland Leader (quoted), 238- 
 
 240 
 Commercialism in Japanese art, 
 
 166 
 Compositions of Remenyi, 25, 26, 
 
 112, 128, 242 
 Concert - meister of Thomas 
 
 Orchestra, 69 
 Concert tours made by Remenyi, 
 
 19, 20, 46-48, 61, 66, 75, 115- 
 
 120, 201, 202 
 Connoisseur of art, Remenyi as 
 
 a, 31, 50, 112, 182, 183 
 Cornelis, Edward T., 107 
 Courtney, Mr., singer at White 
 
 House concert (1878), 124 
 Crimmins, John D., 107 
 Critics of art and music, 50 
 Cukor, Morris A, 107, 108 
 
 Daily Englishman^ Calcutta, 
 India (quoted), 147-155 
 
 Damrosch, Dr. Walter, 245 
 
 D'Annunzio, Gabriele, 172, 173 
 
 Dawson, Arthur, 183 
 
 Death of Remenyi, 22, loi, 102, 
 105, 106, III 
 
 Death-mask taken of Remenyi, 
 106 
 
 Deiters, Dr. Herman, 13 
 
 Denver (Colo.): welcome ten- 
 dered Remenyi, 117 
 
 Dethier, — , organist, 71 
 
 "Dictionary of Music," Grove, 
 13,22,24,27 
 
 "Dictionary of Music," Rie- 
 mann, 9 
 
 FRA 
 
 Diet upon which Remenyi sub- 
 sisted, 66, 190, 205, 207 
 
 Dietrich, Mr., conductor, 233 
 
 Dohn, A. W., 25 
 
 Dulcken, Mr., performed at 
 White House (1878), 124 
 
 Dvorak, Dr. Antonin, 208 
 
 Dyer-Chester, Hon. Frank, 
 Consul at Budapest, 28 
 
 Edison, Norman A., 107 
 Eisfeld, Theodore, orchestral 
 
 leader, 11, 243 
 Elkhart (Ind.): incident which 
 
 occurred at concert, 115 
 Engel, Carl, 148 
 Evergreen Cemetery, New York, 
 
 Remenyi's resting-place, no 
 Exile of Remenyi, 11, 18, 40, 96, 
 
 97, 244 
 Expansion predicted for the 
 
 United States, 168 
 
 Family of Remenyi, 18, 37, 38^ 
 
 108, 112, 198, 207 
 Fay de Faj, Anton de, father of 
 
 Madame Remenyi, 47 
 First concert given by Remenyi 
 » in the United States, 243-245 
 Flaubert, Gustave, 45 
 Fleishman, Louis, 107 
 Floral tributes at Remenyi's 
 
 funeral services, no 
 Fort Collins (Colo.) : incident 
 
 which occurred at concert, 117, 
 
 118 
 Franklin, Gertrude, vocalist, 236 
 
INDEX 
 
 251 
 
 FRE 
 
 " Freischutz," Weber, 142 
 Fuchs, Julius, 25 
 Funeral services held over Re- 
 menyi, 1 07-110 
 
 Gautier, Theophile, 45 
 " God Save the King," 138, 
 Goff, Recorder, speaker at Re- 
 
 menyi's funeral, log 
 Goncourts, Les Files, 45 
 Gorgey, General, Hungarian 
 
 patriot, 10, 75, 121, 122 
 Greek art, 165 
 Greuze, 182 
 Griffin, Robert H., 107 
 Guido d' Arezzo, 148 
 Gunsaulus, Rev. Frank, 58 
 "Gypsies and their Music in 
 
 Hungary, The," Liszt, 16 
 Gypsy music, 66, 75: see Magyar 
 
 music and Hungarian spirit in 
 
 Remenyi's playing. 
 
 Habanera suggested by rus- 
 tling palm leaves, 64, 128 
 Hartford Daily Times (quoted), 
 
 234, 235 
 Hathaway, George, 206 
 Haydn's national feeling, 142 
 Hayes, President and Mrs., 124 
 Helmrich, — , of Hamburg, 81 
 Hesketh, — , violin - maker of 
 
 Columbus, Ohio, 57 
 Hindu music, as written of by 
 
 Remenyi, 147-155 
 Hoffmann, parental name of 
 
 Remenyi, 9 
 Hollander, Alexander, 107 
 
 KLE 
 
 "Home, Sweet Home," 138, 
 139 
 
 Hugo, Victor, as friend of Re- 
 menyi, 33, 45, 46, 63, 75, III, 
 112. 
 
 " Hungaria," Liszt, 17 
 
 " Hungarian Concerto," Joachim, 
 17 
 
 "Hungarian Dances," Brahms, 
 17, 91-94 
 
 Hungarian spirit in Remenyi's 
 playing, 215, 229, 233 
 
 Ingersoll, Robert G., 48, 107, 
 
 203-210 
 Isaye's appreciation of Remenyi, 
 
 52,53 
 Italian Renaissance, 160-162 
 Italian school concert, 125, 126 
 
 Japanese art, 165, 166 
 Jealousy no part of Remenyi's 
 
 character, 42, 70 
 Jewish descent and religion of 
 
 Remenyi, 9, 55, 56 
 Joachim, Joseph, 10, 12, 13, 85, 
 
 90 
 "John Anderson, my Jo," 137 
 Josefify, Rafael, 107 
 Jotis, Theodore, 107 
 
 Karoly, Horerath, Tj 
 
 King George (the Blind King), 
 
 12, 80 
 Kiss, John, 107 
 Klapka, General, 45, 126 
 Klein, Bruno Oscar, 107 
 Kleinmann, Emerson, 107 
 
252 
 
 INDEX 
 
 KLI 
 
 Klindworth, Karl, 1 5 
 Kossuth, Louis, 10, 109, 123, 244 
 Kovas, Vilmos, 107 
 "Kritik der Tonwerke," Fuchs, 
 25 
 
 "Z« Cruche Cassie,'" Greuze, 182 
 
 "Legend of Saint Elizabeth, 
 The," Liszt, 17 
 
 Lehman, Sam, conductor of 
 orchestra at Remenyi's fun- 
 eral, 107 
 
 Leipziger Illustrirte Zeitung 
 (quoted), 126, 127 
 
 Lenox Lyceum, New York 
 scene of Remenyi's funeral, 
 107 
 
 " Lieder ohne Worte," Mendels- 
 sohn, 142 
 
 Linguist, Remenyi a, 113, 114 
 
 Liszt, Franz, 12-19, 45, 87-90, 
 
 245 
 
 Literary style affected by Re- 
 menyi, 27, 67, 112 
 
 London Examiner (quoted), 213- 
 215 
 
 London, (7M^ (quoted), 215, 216 
 
 London Times (quoted), 216, 217 
 
 Luckstone, Isadore, 107 
 
 Lupot, French violin-maker, 180 
 
 Lzechenip, — , Hungarian states- 
 man, 45 
 
 Maggini violins, 178-181 
 Magyar music, 16 
 Mapleson concert, London, 213- 
 215 
 
 NAT 
 
 " Marseillaise," 139 
 
 Marxsen, ,Brahms's teacher 
 
 in counterpoint, 84 
 
 Mason, William, pupil of Liszt, 
 14,89 
 
 Mathias Corvinus, Statute to, 64, 
 128 
 
 Matthews, W. S. B., 15 
 
 McCollum, Miss Annie, vocalist 
 232 
 
 McKinley, President, 49 
 
 McMillan, Emerson, 107 
 
 Mehlig, Anna, pianist, 25 
 
 Melba's acquaintance with Re- 
 menyi, 20, 123 
 
 Memory, Remenyi possessed re- 
 tentive, 114 
 
 Miners' demonstration over Re- 
 menyi's playing, 118, 119 
 
 Monroe Doctrine, 168 
 
 Moorish civilization in Spain, 
 157,158 
 
 Murls of Weimar, 15 
 
 Murphy, Sylvester A., 107 
 
 "Music," edited by W. S. B. 
 Matthews, 15 
 
 Music, as written of by Re- 
 menyi, 133, 134 
 
 Music in the United States and 
 Europe, comparatively con- 
 sidered, 245 
 
 Music Trade Review (quoted), 
 232-234 
 
 Musical Trade Review (quoted), 
 232 
 
 National hymn composed by 
 Remenyi, 64, 65 
 
INDEX 
 
 253 
 
 NAT 
 
 National Music in the United 
 
 States, 53, 54; in general, 136- 
 
 144 
 Natural scenery in United 
 
 States, 170, 171 
 "Neue Bahnen," by Robert 
 
 Schumann, 13, 80,90 
 Neue Zeitschrift fur Musik 
 
 (Leipsic), 13, 80, 90 
 Neuendorf, Adolph, conductor 
 
 of New York Philharmonic 
 
 Society, 232, 245 
 Neustadt, Sigmund, 107 
 New York Evening Express 
 
 (quoted), 219, 221 
 New York Herald (quoted), 79- 
 
 95, loi, 102, 107, 108, 223, 224, 
 
 226, 227 
 New York Musical Times (quot- 
 ed), 221-223 
 New York State-house, 164 
 New York Sun (quoted), 121 
 New York Times (quoted), 217- 
 
 219 
 New York Tribune (quoted), 224- 
 
 226 
 Niagara Falls, 174 ^ 
 
 Niblo's Garden, First concert 
 
 at, 11,123,243 
 Niles (Mich.): incident which 
 
 occurred at concert, 115 
 
 "Othello," keynote of, 143, 144 
 
 Paganini's compositions, 231, 
 
 234 
 Pal, Olah, soloist at Remenyi's 
 
 funeral services, 108 
 
 RAC 
 
 Palms, Remenyi's love for, 47, 
 63, 127-129 
 
 " Palms, The," Remenyi's Haba- 
 nera, 64, 128 
 
 Paris Opera House, 163 
 
 Patriotism of Remenyi, g, 96, 
 97, 108, 156, 167 
 
 Personal appearance of Re- 
 menyi, 26, 118, 217, 223, 228, 
 230, 234, 238 
 
 Perzel, William, 107 
 
 Petofi, Alexander, and statue 
 to his memory in Budapest, 
 28,40,97, 113 
 
 Philadelphia Evening Bulletin 
 (quoted), 240, 241 
 
 Plotenyi, Ferdinand, 126, 127 
 
 Plotenyi Nardor, friend and 
 pupil of Remenyi, 74 
 
 Popular Music, as written of by 
 Remenyi, 135-146 
 
 Practice, Remenyi's dependence 
 upon, 37, 52, 70, 74 
 
 "Pretty" melodies, 145 
 
 Prince Albert Edward and Re- 
 menyi, 124 
 
 Programme of Remenyi's first 
 concert in the United States, 
 
 243 
 Pyramid of Cheops, Remenyi 
 
 played upon summit of, 1 26 
 Pyrker, Archbishop, benefactor 
 
 of Remenyi in his youth, 44 
 
 Queen Victoria honored Re- 
 menyi, 17, 18, 46, 124 
 
 " Racokzy March," 140 
 
254 
 
 INDEX 
 
 RAK 
 
 Rakos-Palota, near Pesth, Re- 
 
 menyi's home, T], 78 
 Rembrandt, 182, 183 
 Remenyi, Tibor, son of Edouard 
 
 Remenyi, 122 
 Repertory played by Remenyi, 
 
 215, 222 
 " Rhapsodies Hongroises," Liszt, 
 
 17 
 Rice, Isaac, 148 
 
 Ringelmann, Professor, conduc- 
 tor of Hungarian Singing 
 Society, 108 
 Rive-King, Julia, pianist, 236 
 Riverside Drive, New York, 163 
 Riviere concert, London, 215-217 
 "Romeo and Juliet" (Berlioz), 
 
 Remenyi's playing of, 'j^ 
 Rouget de 1' Isle, composer of 
 the "Marseillaise," 139 
 
 Sand, George, 45 
 
 Sarasate, Spanish violinist, 43, 44 
 
 Sardor, Count Teleki, fellow ex- 
 ile with Remenyi, 75 
 
 Scharfenberg, William, pianist 
 and violinist, 11, 243, 244 
 
 Schmidt, Val., maker of death- 
 mask, 106 
 
 Schubert's national feeling, 141 
 
 Schumann, Robert, 13, 14, 80, 
 90, 91, 141 
 
 Schurz, Hon. Carl, presented 
 Remenyi with watch, 114 
 
 "Scots, Wha Hae," 137 
 
 Seidl in concert at Metropolitan 
 Opera House, 207-209 
 
 THO 
 
 Shakespeare, Remenyi's com- 
 ments on, 143, 144 
 
 " Silent, O Moyle," 138 
 
 Singer, Otto, 25 
 
 Sivori, — , 227 
 
 Sommers, Dr. Leo, musical 
 director at Remenyi's funeral 
 services, 108 
 
 Sousa, John Philip, 107 
 
 South Bend (Ind.) ladies present- 
 ed Remenyi with watch, 114 
 
 Spain's national policy, 157-159 
 
 " Spree," Remenyi's definition 
 of, 129 
 
 Stephani, Mme., vocalist, 11, 
 243, 244 
 
 Stockinger, Consul General 
 Francis, 107 
 
 Stradivarius violins, 1 78-1 81 
 
 Sweetness a quality of Re- 
 menyi's playing, 220, 224, 227, 
 231, 235-241 
 
 Swing, Professor David, 58, 59 
 
 Szekely, Imre, pianist, 28 
 
 Technique of Remenyi, 23, 43, 
 
 71, 208,220, 228, 231-241 
 Tesla, Nikola, 208 
 "The Campbells are Coming," 
 
 137 
 "The Harp that Once Through 
 
 Tara's Halls," 138 
 " The Last Rose of Summer," 137 
 " The Servant Girl," Rembrandt, 
 
 182 
 Thomas, Ludomir, composer of 
 
 Remenyi's funeral march, 107 
 
INDEX 
 
 255 
 
 THO 
 
 Thomas, Theodore, 19, 25, 232, 
 
 237, 245 
 Thompson, Cesar, 23, 43, 70, 71 
 Timm, H. C, pianist, 11, 243, 244 
 Toledo (Ohio) concert, iig, 120 
 
 " Ungarische Tanze," Brahms, 
 17 
 
 Untalented children of great 
 
 men, 63 
 Urso, Camilla, violinist, 221 
 
 Variations on the " Carnival of 
 
 Venice," 141 
 Vaudeville engagements of Re- 
 
 menyi, 21, 67, 68, 103 
 Violinists, Famous, 51 
 Violins, Remenyi's knowledge 
 
 and care of, 35, 68, 98, 119, 
 
 178-181 
 Vogrich, Max, 25,95, io7i i99 
 Von Herbeck, Johann, 16 
 
 YOU 
 
 Waffelghern, M. Von, 44 
 Washington and Lord Fairfax, 
 
 168, 169 
 Watches presented to Remenyi, 
 
 114 
 Welcome given Remenyi on his 
 
 return to Hungary, 122, 123 
 Wells, F. Marion, artist who 
 
 made bust of Remenyi, 106 
 White, Joseph, violinist, 221 
 Wieniawski, — , violinist, 221 
 Wilhelmj, — , violinist, 23, 223, 
 
 225, 226, 228, 229, 234, 237- 
 
 239 
 
 Winchester (Va.), sketch sug- 
 gested to Remenyi by visit to, 
 168, 169, 196 
 
 Wrecks, 202 
 
 "Ye Banks and Braes," 137 
 Young artists always granted a 
 hearing by Remenyi, 71, 120 
 
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