THE LIBRARY OF THE UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA Music Library GIFT OF' Professor Albert Elkus LOUIS C. ELSON. EDROPEAN REMINISCENCE MUSICAL AND OTHERWISE. Being the Recollections of the Vacation Tours of a Musician in various Countries. By LOUIS C. ELSON. PHILADELPHIA : THEO. PRESSER. PREFACE. This book is the informal record of several vacations of a musician abroad. During- some years the author was correspondent of the New York Tribune, the Boston Advertiser, the Boston Transcript, and other journals, and the following pages are largely collated from his foreign letters sent to the American press. Naturally the chief interest is a musical one, but it was the delight of the writer to study the kaleidoscopic phases of European life in many different aspects, and the result was at times to take him very far from the musical field. He trusts that these discursions will not detract from the interest of a book which is only intended to rep- resent the playful side of a musician-' s life. This also will excuse the autobiographical ego which is used in these pages so freely by The Author. Music Library GIFT COPYRIGHT, 1891, BY LOUIS C. ELSON. COPYRIGHT, 1896, BY THEO. PRESSER. TABLE OF CONTENTS. CHAPTER I. The voyage — outward bound — musical and gas- tronomical doings on shipboard. ... 5 CHAPTER II. A CHANNEL PASSAGE COLOGNE GUIDES CHURCH OF ST. URSULA AN INTERVIEW WITH DR. FERDINAND HILLER A MUSICAL FESTIVAL. - - - - 12 CHAPTER HI. LEIPSIC SKETCH OF THE CONSERVATORY INTERVIEW WITH JADASSOHN EVENING WITH REINECKE A GER- MAR KNEIPE. -------20 CHAPTER IV. Northward to kiel — the north sea and Baltic copenhagen gade and the danish state conser- vatory an interview with svendsen music at the tivoli a convivial artists' gathering schar- wenka, dahl and others a dangerous bath un- expected friends. - - - - 35 625 vi CONTENTS. CHAPTER V. TO CHRISTIANIA A NORWEGIAN MEAL A VISIT TO THE MINISTER OF STATE A SONG OF THE NORTH A HALLING A WILD EXPRESS TRAIN. 50 CHAPTER VI. TO SWEDEN STOCKHOLM SUMMER MUSIC IN THE FAR NORTH THE JOURNEY SOUTHWARD A CANAL VOYAGE A BOY ORCHESTRA A PROUD PORTER. - - 5& CHAPTER VII. BAYREUTH A SLEEPY GERMAN TOWN BEFORE THE FES- TIVAL A VISIT TO MADAM WAGNER THE FIRST PER- FORMANCES OF THE FESTIVAL PARSIFAL DIE MEISTER- SINGER AN EVENING AT ANGERMANN's MIDNIGHT REVELRIES A MEETING WITH THE PRINCE OF HESSE A RECEPTION AT MADAM WAGNER'S. 73 CHAPTER VIII. Some features of bayreuth^-the trip to Munich franz lachner — nuremberg rheinberger wag- ner's first opera, "the fairies." 93 CHAPTER IX. TO VIENNA THE PRATER SOME GYPSY MUSIC BUDA- PESTH THE HOME OF THE GIPSIES HUNGARIAN MUSIC AND MANNERS. 106 CHAPTER X. ADELSBERG FLORENCE VENICE A CONCERT TWO MILES LONO THE RECEPTION OF THE QUEEN MUSIC ON THE GRAND CANAL ROME NAPLES POMPEII. - 120 CONTENTS. vii CHAPTER XI. CASAMICCIOLA A TERRIFIC EARTHQUAKE SCENES IN A DEVASTATED COUNTRY THE DEATH OF AN ENGLISH PIANIST THE FATAL TERMINATION OF A CONCERT A LIFE SAVED BY CHOPIN'S FUNERAL MARCH — PISA MILAN LAKE COMO AN IMPROMFTU MUSICALE. - - 142 CHAPTER XII. Switzerland — the great organ at luzerne — zither music in the alps climbing the chapeau bas the romantic mule a ride beset with dangers up the righi a musical acquaintance zurich chamounix geneva schaffhausen. - - 156 CHAPTER XIII. Paris — a Turkish bath — a suave barber — twenty- four HOURS OF TYPICAL PARISIAN LIFE A NIGHT IN PARIS A COMMUNIST GUIDE A FEARFUL RIOT A CHARGE OF THE FRENCH SOLDIERY LOUISE MICHEL INTERVIEWS WITH FRENCH COMMUNISTS. - - 181 CHAPTER XIV. THE GREAT EXPOSITION AT PARIS A MUSICAL DAY — AN ALGERIAN CONCERT INTERVIEW WITH MASSENET UNEXPECTED JURY DUTY A NIGHT AT THE OPERA WITH MASSENET THE GRAND OPERA SYBIL SANDERSON AND EMMA EAMES ART IN PARIS AN ANNAMITE CONCERT. 208 CHAPTER XV. Brussels — a female in a smoking car — Amster- dam THE JEWISH QUARTER ON FRIDAY NIGHT SCHE- VENINGEN A STORMY PASSAGE ACROSS THE CHANNEL LONDON — QUARITCH'S BOOK STORE ARISTOCRATIC CLUBS AND POVERTY-STRICKEN SLUMS A RIOT IN TRAFALGAR SQUARE LIFE IN THE ENGLISH METROPOLIS. - - 232 viii CONTENTS. CHAPTER XVI. A DISCURSIVE TALK MUSICAL EUROPE A DESCRIP- TION OF THE MUSICAL ADVANTAGES AND DISADVAN- TAGES OF DIFFERENT EUROPEAN CAPITALS WHERE THE AMERICAN STUDENT OUGHT TO GO IMPORTANT MUSICAL LETTERS BY ROBERT FRANZ. - - - - 250 CHAPTER XVII. The routine of European travel — useful hints as to costume preventives of seasickness passports ^-strassburg regulations languages— customs of- ficers tips. 271 CHAPTER XVIII. Departure from london — a funereal cabby — scotland edinburgh and glasgow abbotsford liverpool homeward bound a typical steamer concert the humors of an ocean voyage steer- age life home again. ----- 283 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. CHAPTER I. THE VOYAGE. OUTWARD BOUND. MUSICAL AND GASTRONOMICAL DOINGS ON SHIPBOARD. Beethoven once composed a comic song I It was called " Urian's Reise um die Welt," and began : Whene'er a man abroad doth go Great problems he'll unravel, I took my pack and was not slow To go about my travel. I shall follow the example of Beethoven's Urian and caper about Europe in a playful manner, studying people rather than palaces, and abjuring in advance all statistics and guide-book information. There are two especially thrilling points in the sea voyage — the moment of leaving land and the moment of sighting it. Between these, as between the covers of a railroad sandwich, there is much that is tn^ing to the soul, and much that cannot be described. Why is it that no poet has yet given adequate expression to the woe unutterable which characterizes mal de mer? The first day out every thing was calm, and the ocean smooth as a mirror. In fact, I may say that our movement was in seven flats — sea flat. Poets have used up a good deal of " divine inflatus " on the subject of " Night at Sea." I desire earnestly to enter my protest against their deceiving any more people . A night at sea, under the bewitching influence of a fog horn between 6 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. A and B flat, makes one remark with M. Clarence/ 4 Oh ! I have passed a miserable night." Then, also, one reads about the " silent watches of the night," which, on an ocean steamer , are not as silent even as a Waterbury watch . Every half hour the bells wake one up until one is haunted like Matthias in Irving's play. Even the dog-watch, (so called because it is curtailed), is not a silent one. The next day came a fog, and with it grief. The upper deck was soon occupied by the members of a large excursion party, who improvised a hospital ward of reasonable dimen- sions. The day came to a fog-horn conclusion. After observing the patients a while, I decided that, although they were not lively, they were very active. A tenor singer on board instantly threw up his engagements. It must not be supposed that these persons were sick for want of preventives. For the benefit of my readers, and humanity generally, I record the remedies for the malady: First, champagne. Second, eat all you can. Third, eat very lightly. Fourth, take phosphates and lemons. Fifth, avoid everything sour. Sixth, Ginger. Seventh, Bro- mide of Sodium. Eight, Peppermint. Ninth, Strychnine, in light doses, Tenth, Seltzer Aperient. Against such an array it would appear to be impossible for the sickness to make any headwa}^, but I suppose it gets its work in during the intervals between the taking of these remedies. One party on board the ship confided to me a real remedy. He advised me to drink Bass's ale in continuous and allopathic doses. This, it seems to me, changes the name of the dis- turbance, but does not essentially alter the symptoms. But then this man belonged to the " unregenerate party." Let me hasten to explain. The ship had among its passengers an incredible number of reverends — as many as Mark Twain met with in his ' ' Innocents Abroad . " In fact, were it not for the above described illness and its kindly remedies, we might have had one continuous service all the way across. EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES, 7 A crusade was soon organized and the goats driven away from the sheep. These rampant animals took refuge in the smoking room, where they gathered around tables and played a game whose name is derived from one of the innocent instruments used to stir the fire. In this case the game stirred up the fire. The sheep sent a petition, that card playing be stopped, to the captain. The goats con- cocted an anonymous and satirical proclamation, wherein many were held up in ridicule to an unsympathetic world. They spared none. Even I (who am a sheep) was lam- pooned with the rest. The sheep appealed to the captain to protect the fold, but that hardened official replied in substance, "A plague on both your houses," only he im- proved the force of Shakspeare's language by judiciously interspersed adjectives. The captain loved not the fold, and there was a degree of justice in his dislike. Many of the passengers had pinned their faith upon him with a confidence which would have flattered the oracle at Delphi. They frequented the vicinity of the bridge to consult him as to the various details of the sea and of the voyage. They regarded him as a sort of oceanic time table. "How long will the fog last?" "Will this wind continue all the way over?" ""When will we see an ice- berg?" were some of the riddles which I heard pro- pounded at the oracular shrine. But on his part there was none of the Delphian dignity. He would gaze at his ques- tioners with awe-struck and open-eyed wonder, and then recovering from his astonishment, would inquire whether he was taken for a (profane) weather prophet. There is never quite the homogeneity on a large ship that one finds on a small one. People gather into small groups and even cliques instead of being an entirely united community. Even " the solitary plank between us and eternity," of which the preacher speaks in his Sunday ser- mon , does not weld them together . But in one thing there 8 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. is not only sociability but communism, and that is in the matter of steamer chairs. Label your chair if 3-011 want to, let letters as large as the scare-lines of the Daily Thunder- bolt proclaim that it is personal property, yet some fair female in a state of eruption, or of exhausted somnolency, will curl up in it, and }^ou (being a modern chevalier Bayard) will walk the deck until she gets through. The only way to keep outsiders out of your steamer chair is to set fire to it. There is a certain caste on an ocean steamer; it is not founded on wealth, nor brains, nor char- acter, but on voyages; the man who has made a dozen is a veritable Brahmin — the one who is on his first trip is a meek and lowly Pariah . He is patronized , he is bullied, and his opinions, if he dares to express any, are pooh-poohed. The days on board of an ocean steamer pass with varying success. I must dissent from the poets in so far; after the first few days out, "familarity doth breed contempt,' ' or at least disappointment, with the summer sea, and then the days hang heavily. Shovel-board and ring toss fill in an occasional chink, but in this voyage the main relaxation was in religious services. From twenty prayers which I heard, I gathered that the clergymen all approved of the manner in which the Atlantic ocean was made. The pas- sengers practically indorsed the empty fifths and non-har- monic cross relations of the " Gospel Hymns" which they conscientiously sang in season and out of season, but which were occasionally varied by the Miserere from "Trova- tore," sung by a young lady with a rather vague and hesi- tant knowledge of the matter. It suited admirably to the condition of the limp parties of the "hospital ward," as the reclining place of the internally-disturbed ones on the up- per deck came to be called, but was not adapted to those enjoying reasonable health. But as it was given at regu- lar intervals during the day, quantity made up for quality. Meanwhile the unregenerate played "Napoleon," regard- EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. 9 less of any moral law . They kept it up night and day as assi- duously as the hymnists did their hymns. In short, they had a long ' ' Nap , ' ' but little sleep . But on Saturday night they joined in the sailor's toast and remembered "sweet- hearts and wives at home,'' and that was a bit of senti- ment which balanced many sins, for they seemed to mean it. But a dreadful fate befell us from another quarter. On discovering that the ship had no secular musical works aboard , I settled down in calm content . Suddenly a fiend , a Nihilist or a mistaken philanthropist, revealed the fact that he had a musical album in his trunk. It was one of those economical collections that give you two or three hundred of the most worn-out tunes for fifty cents. And after that we had the "Danube River" for breakfast, "ICannotSing the Old Songs" for lunch, "In the Gloaming" for dinner, and "Once Again" for supper. There was a perfect erup- tion of Molloy , Sullivan, and Pinsuti, The awful fact was developed that we had more singers than clergymen among us. We were between Scylla and Chary bdis, which is the polite way of saying that we had got out of the frying pan into the fire. Music on board ship is more or less of a nuisance, but we had a few good artists aboard who made the inevitable concert bearable. However, I had left my critical pen (with all the vitrol carefully wiped off) in camphor for the summer, and shall not analyze even my own musical performances. Of course "Rocked in the Cradle of the Deep" was given, and equally of course the irreverent smoking-roomers spoke of it as "Locked in the stable with the sheep." The regular singing during the concerts was by no means so bad, and the finale was especially charming, for we all took hands and sang "Auld Lang Syne" in true Scotch style. And now (as this was Saturday) came the preparations 10 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. for Sunday. Arrangements for divine service were easily made, for there was to be a church assembly in Belfast, and we had, as already intimated, some fifteen clergymen on board, and a goodly sprinkling of deacons. But the "best laid plans of mice and men" went to pieces. These clergymen fell to offering sacrifices to Neptune with a zeal that proved that they were not good Baptists. One sturdy minister, however, was left, like Elijah, "one solitary prophet of the Lord," and he gave a sermon which was emphatic and interesting. I was especially obliged to him that he did not bring out the "solitary plank" in his dis- course. This is as often present in a sermon at sea as the "solitary horseman" in the novels of G. P. R. James. It sends a thrill of horror into the breasts of the unregener- ate to tell them that there is but a solitary plank between them and eternity, and they are only reassured by going below and finding that the plank is some two feet thick and well braced, whereupon they at once fall back into their evil ways. I have always thought that the scriptural text, "Cast ye up!" would furnish excellent material for a sea sermon, yet I have never heard it used. A large part of the time at sea is spent at table. After one has ceased being a "contributor to the Atlantic," one feels as if he were built hollow all the way through, and the work of filling the vacuum begins. There was, however, one disturbing element at our table in the shape of a steward (or waiter) , who had evidently just been captured on an Irish bog and pressed into service. When we first met, he leaned cordially on my shoulder and confidentially asked for my order. Disentangling myself from his embrace, I gave him the details of my projected meal, but immediately found that his friendly interest was somewhat hampered by a lack of knowledge. He brought me many articles of food, but never by any chance what I had called for. Now began a series of object lessons which EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. \\ would have done credit to any kindergarten. I taught him that cucumbers were green, and tomatoes were red, and that in this respect they resembled the port and starboard lights of the vessel . I caused him to refrain from falling upon my neck when receiving my order. I taught him that a meal could sometimes pass without eating potatoes, which he continually and confidently brought me. I could not teach him, however, that the hardness of a hard-boiled egg should extend below the shell, and I once sent him for "boiled fowl," when his voice was pathetic as, suspecting me of playing a joke upon him, he replied, "We have no bald fowl, sorr." I suppose he thought that I, as an American , wanted a bald-headed eagle . But he was willing to learn, and under the influence of sundry coins of the realm he became constantly, if less affectionately, attentive. He was possibly a near relative of the scriptural steward "with one talent;" his one talent was breathing down my neck and then forgetting my order. The tip end of the voyage brought the charitable concert, in which the day and night gangs of our musical laborers joined forces and produced a tonal feast large enough to give the passengers musical dyspepsia. Then came " land ho!" distant views at first, then a land breeze which brought the peat odor so characteristic of Irish cabins and Irish whiskey. I want to add a trifle to the Shakespearian dis- coveries of Donnelly. The Bard of Avon was an Irishman! He has described both the Irish breezes and the Hibernian potheen in the exquisite but hitherto misunderstood line, " 'Tis true 'tis peaty, peaty 'tis, 'tis true." The usual bother with customs follows, but as the eminent Liverpudlian, who gazes at my wearing apparel and my soiled linen, finds neither alcohol, nor cigars, nor dynamite (I have no small vices) he decides to admit me to the land where the letter "H" is so badly treated, and where I my- self receive the Satanic title of "Hell. C. Hellson." 12 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. CHAPTER n. A CHANNEL PASSAGE COLOGNE GUIDES THE CHURCH OF ST. URSULA AN INTERVIEW WITH DR. FERDINAND HILLER A MUSICAL FESTIVAL. Naturally one goes with the stream of continental travel, from London to Rotterdam and on to Germany. The way from London to Cologne is long and decidedly uncomfortable. The channel is as unreliable as a spoiled beauty, one day all smiles and dimples, the next in an ungovernable temper and fury. May all the last syllables of half the cities in Holland be showered upon the boat that took me across! I have been in Turkish baths at 210°, and I have been in St. Louis dur- ing the heated term , but never have I been in an atmos- phere like that which filled the cabin of the steamer of the Great Eastern Railway. The channel boats are an abominable, eternal, and un- mitigated nuisance; they would not be tolerated in America for five minutes. Four first-class passengers are packed in what is ironically called a " state-room;" there is certainly no state about it, and precious little room. Four basins are prominently put under the four passengers' noses, whether they want them or not. The atmosphere of the cabin is so dense and peculiar that I wonder that somebody doesn't cut it up and sell it in Germany as Limburger cheese. In the morning we get up, one at a time, and scratch, for it would be impossible to scratch a duet or a trio in the confined space, and circumstances over which we EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. \% have no control seem to make scratching necessary . Thank heaven it has been a calm night and Ossa has not been heaped upon Pelion in the way of misery. The weather in Rotterdam reminds me of home. If ever a meteorological bureau is started in Holland it will run its reports about as follows: — Cold and clear, followed by warm and rainy, interspersed with thundershowers, followed by light frosts, after which the weather will become changeable. What a tantalizer the Dutch tongue is! One moment sounding like English, another like German, yet always eluding you if you speak either. I had my triennial search for a bath (I trust it will be understood that this does not refer to bathing in its totality, but the Holland branch of it only), and after hunting all over the city for Guricx's barber shop, where I was told I could get one, found only a poor joke instead of a bath. I broke up a little German to make it sound like Dutch, and said, "I want a bath," whereupon the facetious barber re- sponded in good German, "Very well, you may take one, but I haven't got any!" The idea of having that ancient joke sprung upon me in a strange land , far awa}^ from home, was too much, and that evening I shook the dust of Rotter- dam from my feet and started for Cologne. I soon saw the vast dome of Cologne rising from the plain, long before any other building was visible, and in half an hour was crossing the Rhine to get under its mighty shadow . Heine has pictured the city too well for any amateur tourist to say much about it. "Im Rhein, im heiligen Strom e Da spiegelt sich in den Well'n, Mit seinem grossen Dome Das grosse heilige Coin." 14 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. But Cologne has become somewhat monotonous to me, because it seems to have only one resident — Jean Maria Fa- rina. I went to the cathedral; under its eaves were four distinct Jean Maria Farinas; I went along a back street, there was another J. M. Farina who had evidently strayed away from the rest of the family and got lost; I went to the church of St. Ursula and passed another farinaceous settle- ment on the way. I think that the only solution of the mystery is that the original Mrs. Maria Farina must have had twins with a regularity very painful to her husband, who brought them all up in the perfumery business. I dreamed that night that Cologne was a great Farina pud- ding, and was being stirred up with the dome as a pudding stick . I have mentioned the fact that I went to the church of St. Ursula and the eleven thousand virgin martyrs. That noble institution interests me. Long ago St. Ursula came to Germany with eleven thousand young ladies. The Teu- tonic warrior calmly saw the price of chewing gum and confectionery go up three hundred per cent.; he saw his morning paper disappear to make bustles, and yet he made no sign — possibly because sign-painting was not yet invented . But when these eleven thousand and one ladies demanded the ballot, and outvoted him at every ward election , he saw that the time for action had come; he wrote a few articles to the Atlantic of that epoch — "What shall we do with our girls?" and "The superflous woman," — and then killed the whole lot and started the "church of the Holy Boneyard" with them . The bones are all there and can be exhibited to any skeptic. I saw them, and also the wine bowl used at the marriage at Cana, and a few other relics of antique con- viviality. The pleasantest event of my earliest Cologne experience was my visit to that Nestor of German music and litera- ture, Dr. Ferdinand Hiller, just eight months before his death. It was fortunate that I came to Cologne a few days EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES, 15 earlier than I had expected, for Dr. Hiller had given up the post of musical director of the city of Cologne, which he had held so honorably for so long a time, and was about leaving the city to take up his residence in Bonn . He gave me a most cordial greeting and seemed to take an especial interest in informing himself about our progress in America. Dr. Hil- ler was then an old man, but advancing years had left no trace upon the brightness of his conversation or the keenness of his intellect. His personal appearance was still impres- sive, although he had become very stout, and his gait was slow, if not feeble. His broad face was, however, full of animation when he became interested in any subject, and his words then flowed rapidly and he exhibited fire and en- thusiasm much at variance with his usual quiet mood. He began the conversation (after greetings had been exchanged) in English, but I observed, spite of his apparent ease in this language, that when he became forcible he slipped back into German . His first inquiries were for his friends in America. Mr. Dresel, Mr. Lang, Mr. Floersheim and Dr. Damrosch were especially remembered , and greetings sent to them in German fashion. Dr. Hiller knew our Boston S} T mphonic programmes quite thoroughly, but was not acquainted with the works of any of our American composers. I was un- feignedly sorry that the works of Paine, Whiting, Chadwick, Buck, Parker and others should not be known in Europe, for undoubtedly some of the musicians there think that we still occupy ourselves in producing negro melodies and " mother " songs. Dr. Hiller was pleased to learn that his little tone picture — "The Sentinel" — had won much success at the Symphony Concerts. " It is only a trifle," said he, "but it seems to succeed, as far as it goes." But he would not speak much of himself or his own work, although he grew eloquent when I spoke of his old friend Auerbach. He had but recently written an article in a Cologne journal about 16 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. the great novelist; " Not anything extensive, but a friend can always write best about a friend," he said. Speaking of American music, he remarked: " I fear that you are sometimes too gigantic, in musical festivals for exam- ple. It is a natural fault in a young nation which likes to do things at wholesale . ' ' He earnestly inquired about the stand- ing of opera among us (" The human voice always remains the greatest instrument," said he) and, deprecating the star system , hoped that we would not give German opera unless every part, great and small, were adequately filled. Speak- ing of the epochs of composition, he thought that, spite of the universal striving for a master's crown, which is apparent to-day, we would make but a poor showing beside the golden period when Haydn , Mozart, Beethoven, Schubert, and Weber followed in such quick succession, which he compared to the Raphael epoch in painting . ' 'But , " he added , " to-day is the epoch of execution. The great works have never received such performances as they do now, and this is true not only of orchestral but of almost all musical works. " Happening to speak of England, he interrupted me to say that the Eng- lish were more than mere art patrons; they appreciated what was really worthy, and he cited examples from Handel to Mendelssohn; " but," he concluded, " their drawing-room music is often very bad," and he shuddered , possibly at the recollection of some English drawing-room tenor. I ven- tured to quote the partisan spirit which was shown in Eng- land against Schumann , in the cause of Mendelssohn . ' ' Ah , yes," he replied, " but almost the same could be said of Germany at that time. Schumann was a plant of slow growth the world over." Again reverting to the dearth of really great composers, he said: " Whom have we in the symphonic field to-day? Possibly Brahms only. Of course time will sift all composers justly. Only the really worthy works remain after a generation has passed away. Unfor- tunately sometimes very little remains." EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. 17 In speaking of American literature — and Dr. Hiller was as great in literary as in musical analysis — he expressed great admiration for some of the works of Bret Harte. "We have no such characters in Germany, but they are so vividly drawn that they must have real prototypes somewhere.' ' This is all, (save matters of a private or social character), that I can recall of an interview with one of the greatest of the musicians of the pure school of Germany. All through the conversation I was struck by the conservative bent of the mind of Dr. Hiller. He scarcely mentioned the modern radical composers, but when he did he did not altogether condemn, but seemed to think their claims "not proven," and that their influence was pushing aside a worthier and healthier school — Mozart's, for example. As I rose to bid farewell, the doctor reiterated his greetings to American friends, and as I expressed a wish that we might yet see him amongst us, he smiled and sighed, and said, "Ah, no! it is too late now." And so I left one who has "fought the good fight" for music, and whose influence has been a shin- ing light to those who desire to see the musician become less of a specialist and more a man of broad culture. And now followed a musical feast upon which I stumbled almost unawares. I had found an American resident in Cologne, who insisted upon taking me around the city. As we were seated at table preparatory to this circular enter- prise, an editor of the "KolnischeNachrichten" took a seat near us in the restaurant. We were speedily introduced and soon joined by an editor of the "Kolnische Zeitung," with whom I had journe} r ed to Bayreuth a year before. At once the Amerikaner was made the honored guest, and when I mentioned that I desired to gather musical education unto myself, they shouted, "You have come just right! We will go to the Maennerchor and Schubertbund ! " I was ready to go to the stake in such good company, so I yielded a willing consent. The occasion turned out to be a special 18 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. one. The Schubertbuncl — a male chorus of Vienna — had come hundreds of miles to pay a visit to a rival society away up here in Cologne. Your true German Maennerchor likes to have heartiness, mirth and gemuthliclikeit mixed in with its singing, and I knew beforehand what I might expect; for had I not been at "salamanders" and other festivities at our own Orpheus Club in Boston? Arrived at the hall I found about a thousand people present seated at long tables, and ready to begin the ceremonies of welcome. These be- gan by the Kolner Maennergesangverein (some one hundred and fifty members) stepping upon the stage and singing four songs of welcome to their guests. Such solid, manly sing- ing can seldom be heard. The Apollo Club of Boston may sing with more perfect finish , but not with such a noble en- thusiasm or genuine heartiness. Now the Cologne society left the stage and the Austrians took it. They sang four songs also, but with thinner, more sugary voices. The company present was a distinguished one; all the litterateurs, physicians, lawyers and great merchants of Cologne were there, and the speeches were of a brilliant character, although a mutual admiration element was naturally in the fore- ground. Some good points were made, however, as when the president put the old conundrum "Was ist des Deutschen Vaterland?" and answered it — "So weit die Deutsche Zunge klingt Und Gott im Himmel Lieder sing-t," which brought the Austrians into the fold . Then , of course the Danube and the Rhine were made to intertwine, and the toasts were followed with plenty of vocal " Hochs," and finally musical slips were passed around, and we all united in singing a song of welcome. But every one who knows the spirit of the German Maennerchor (where singing is a means , rather than an end) EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. 19 will understand that the real fun began after the speeches and formalities were concluded. Then came impromptu poems (knittelversen), burlesque orations, stage representa- tions , and other enlivening proceedings . A bass whose voice seemed to come from a sub-cellar , and whose compass seemed in the neighborhood of twenty octaves, sang the mournful ballad "Im tiefen Keller," without which no German would be heartily jolly. At 1 a. m. I thought I would go to my hotel, although the hilarity showed no signs of diminishing. I heard the next day that at 3 a. m. some wilted Austrians were trying to open the great door of Cologne Cathedral with their latch ke} r s, under the impression that they lodged there; but only a decorous and reasonable Katzen jammer visited the sedate American guest. 20 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. CHAPTER III. LEIPSIC SKETCH OF THE CONSERVATORY INTERVIEW WITH JADASSOHN EVENING WITH REINECKE — A GERMAN KNEIPE. " I was borne to Bingen, Sweet Bing-en on the Rhine," By a steamboat which stopped at about every excuse for a wharf along the entire river. Probably this is the best way to study the beauties of the historic stream, and it is better, too, to take a boat on the upward journey, as it goes slower than the downward bound ones. The express boats are less desirable for the traveler who desires to see as much as pos- sible of the scenery, although I have found them comforta- ble enough for traveling. Of course the musician will stop off at Bonn, and go to the house where Beethoven was born; but here he will find himself in a quandary, for there are two of them! The guide would like to persuade you that Beethoven was twins and born half a mile apart at that! And also, if possible, get a double fee for having shown you two birthplaces where you only expected to find one. The house near the river is probably the only genuine birthplace, although both are labeled by the city. The Rhine scenery only begins to grow beautiful above Bonn, so the traveler can go thither by railroad if he chooses, and take the boat there. Of course I am not about to inflict a detailed account of this scenery upon the "gentle reader," lest he should become ferocious , but I may at least state that on a Sunday or a holiday the Rhine becomes a "-:.:■ CARL REINECKE, DIRECTOR OF THE ROYAL MUSICAL CONSERVATORY OF LEIPSICo EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. 21 perfect river of song; there is a constant visiting and repay- ing of visits going on among the Maennerchore, and as the boat draws toward a landing you will hear songs of greeting and songs of welcome, from both wharf and steamer. Ger- many may not be a land of vocalists, but it is certainly a land of singers, and if "die Meistersinger " have passed away, their mantle has fallen on broad shoulders, and still broader waists, in the male choristers who swarm on every hand; and they sing with a heartiness that would atone for many more vocal sins than they commit. And when they are very jovial they dance too. But do not dance with them, unless you enjoy pleasure mingled with danger, for most of them dance very much like pile drivers, with a ponderous vertical motion, and the inexperienced partner cannot always escape. At St. Goar, if there is a singing society left on board they will frequently favor you with " The Loreley," in honor of that first cousin of the sirens. Bingen does not show much that is either historical or musical, but it is tranquil beyond belief. It nestles among vineyards, and if the landlord of the hotel likes you he will give you a room overlooking the Rhine, with just space enough between you and the river for a little arbor, where you can take breakfast in the open air. In the evening I took the ferry to Riidesheim, and climbed up amid the vineyards to the place where they have erected the colossal statue of Germania, in memory of the Franco- Prussian war. How out of place it seemed! Below lay the peaceful valley, with the sunset gilding the quiet villages; a shower had just passed, and over Johannisberg there lin- gered a faint rainbow; the sweet earth-smell and the odor of "the green things growing" was all around; the vesper bells sounded softly from Riidesheim and Bingen — and there, amidst it all, was the grim military memento, and the tablet of the emperor and his generals. 22 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. But, after all, one cannot lose the military impression in Germany — soldiers, soldiers, soldiers, everywhere and at all times. Mainz came after Bingen, and seemed very prosy by con- trast, but I stayed one day at a prison-like hotel and medi- tated . In the morning the waiter brought breakfast to my room and insisted upon setting the table there. It took the most earnest representations to convince him that I had not been condemned to solitary — only to ordinary imprison- ment. But then came Frankfort and made amends, for Frankfort is one of the liveliest cities in Germany. It offers much to the antiquarian also. Its old streets and narrow alleys are in most instances exactly as they were 300 or 400 years ago. The houses lean over confidentially to within a few feet of each other as if they were whispering their opinions of the modern life now going on under their eaves, and were comparing it with "the good old times," which I think were very bad old times, times of torture, of rapine and cruelty, and of prejudice. Nevertheless, one can wander about the old city for hour after hour and never grow bored. There is no need of special sightseeing when every street is a sight, and where everything is quaint and peculiar. However, it is incumbent to go across the old bridge (14th century) and taste the apfelwein at Sachsen- hausen. This beverage is twin brother to very ancient cider of Maine. When I first tasted it I exclaimed, "Oh, this is hard!" The average tourist may devote a day to this excursion, the morning to apple-wine, the afternoon to colic. There is the usual bother at the hotel (a thoroughly Ger- man one, and not the tourist's great Hotel Sohwan), about a bath. Every trip this occurs somewhere, and it is always annoying. It is embarrassing to take a warm bath which will not get warm, and (when you are in dishabille, and EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. 23 complain through the door, which never locks, to the waiter) to have several persons enter and hold a council of war over your head. When the debating society has quite finished, they deign to tell you the results of their delibera- tions which are, first, the building is being repaired, and the bath has suffered thereby; second, there are fine warm baths on the Main river, a mile away; third, the waiter doesn't understand how to manage the bath; fourth, the plug which he has pulled to let cold water out, lets it in; and lastly, the chambermaid shall bring up hot water in pails until the required temperature is attained. I court- eously return thanks to the assembly and intimate that if they will retire I will ablute regardless of temperature, which they do, and I do, although I take the precaution of barricading the keyless door, resolved to resist any further invasion to the death. At the little hotel I had the typical German food (I may as well confess to enjoying it), and at each meal, while I hoped for the best, I was prepared for the Wurst. Speaking of that leads me to say a word about meats of continental Europe. Beef is generally execrable; mutton, not much better; lamb, generally of Pompeian antiquity; but veal always excellent and pork good. There are sepa- rate butchers in each branch, and " beef butcher," "swine butcher," "calf butcher," are the usual signs over their shops. Have you ever heard of the traveler who declaimed against Pisa as the wettest of cities? " Why," said he, " twenty years ago I left Pisa and it was raining; I come back and it is raining still! " Well, that may suit to Heidelberg. It rains there even in the finest weather, I think, and the same is true of the Black Forest. I believe the moist weather is considered good for the grapes which are flourishing. They only gather them in 24 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. after they are touched by the frost. This came about by accident at first. One year the grapes ripened slowly and they were left on the vines until late in autumn. There came a nipping frost, and all the vineyard owners thought the wine was ruined. The Johannisberg grapes were sold in one batch to a speculator. That year the wine was better than ever, and since then the wine makers have profited by the lesson. Of course in Heidelberg one must go straight to the castle. It is the most picturesque ruin in Europe. The kitchen, with its enormous spit and chimney, where they roaited oxen whole, and the great banqueting hall, are impressive enough still. They dined and wined heartily in those days, and then they roasted a few Protestants as an agreeable pastime for dessert, and said " by my halidome " and " away with him to the castle moat," and other things that we only get in the dime novels nowadays. I was greatly interested in one statue of wood, which they kept appro- priately in the cellar opposite the big wine barrel. It was the duke's jester, who lived somewhere in the beginning of the last century . His claim to historical perpetuity lies in the fact that he drank eighteen bottles of wine every day. I think he should have made it an even twenty, but I sup- pose he did not wish to become a hard drinker merely for the sake of two bottles of wine daily . After the castle the university is the spot that most at- tracts me. There is a story of a person seeking this insti- tution and asking another the way to it: — First party: "I beg pardon, but can you tell me where the university is?" Second Party: "I'm very sony I can't; I'm a student myself! " This might be true for two reasons: Firstly, the build- ings are small and unimpressive, and secondly, the students are not obliged to attend any lectures whatever. When it EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. 25 comes to examinations, however, they cannot pull through in the manner of some American college students that I know of, and on the whole the results are as thorough as those achieved by universities with more exacting details of discipline. I went through the main building with a proc- tor of radiant nose and beery breath, and through him suc- ceeded in speaking to a couple of the professors, (who are addressed as "excellenz,") one of whom invited me into his recitation room, where I heard a pleasant discourse upon "Goethe and Schiller." But the students interested me most . Evidently the baneful practice of duelling has not yet become obsolete, for some of them had faces that reminded me of modern magazine articles, they were so "copiously illustrated with cuts." I also visited a newspaper office in Heidelberg, and was amazed at the calmness and tranquility which pervaded the place. If you want to live in pensive solitude and medita- tion, become an editor of a German newspaper. They do not exchange over there, because the papers are of different prices, and they think it would not be fair all round. They have no American news whatever, spite of the fact that al- most everyone in Germany has relatives among us. The advertisements are often abbreviated to save expense, and the result is sometime rather ludicrous. I translate here for example: — "coreligionists . A young man, reduced circ, well ed., Luth. church, 25 yrs. o. makes strenuous app. for imm. posit. Ab. and will, to work. Add. 2104 this off." The above is literal, and is difficult to decipher as a rebus. The pathos is, however, largely taken out of it by abbrevi- ation . In passing through Baden I noticed that woman's rights were much respected. They have the right to labor even harder than the men. I saw many a hideous Maud Muller 26 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. in the fields, not only raking hay, but mowing, plowing and doing all the farmers' work. If they would only in- troduce Mor monism there, a large farmer might have an easy and profitable time, but one wife is scarcely enough working capital, no matter how hard it is worked. The railroad from Heidelberg down to Freiburg is one of those calmly deliberate institutions that annoy an Ameri- can . The train goes as slowly as a district messenger boy, and stops as often as a man at work on a job for which he is paid by the day. I was, however, preserved from ennui by the fact that the conductor, or guard, was a new one, and had a phenomenal lack of memory. I was kept busy almost the entire time in showing him my tickets . At the twentieth examination my patience gave out, and I asked him (in English) if he knew that he was a nuisance from Nuisance ville. "Ja! freilich?" ("Yes, certainly,") said he, rather than confess that he did not understand me. I had a more crushing revenge at the end of the trip, for after he had quite got through with his punching, clipping and examining, I found that he had punched just one ticket too many in my round trip book, and I introduced him to the superintendent at Freiburg, who delivered an oration which was Spartan in brevity, but sulphurous in quality. No one knows what language can do until he has heard a German official swear. But all petty annoyances subside in the cool, calm atmosphere of Freiburg, the city which stands at the edge of the forest. One can see one evidence of mountain neighborhood in the peculiar drainage of the city In every street are deep gutters of clear, rapidly-run- ning water. In Freiburg, at least, rolling in the gutter, would not mean uncleanliness. The neat, commercial hotel, "The Roman Emperor," where we stay, adds to our EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES 27 contentment, and its host, Herr Spreter, is a veritable Hans Sachs, burly, hearty, and a vivid contrast to the fawning type of landlord one finds so numerous in Europe. He has his opinions, too, and he told the fisherman of our party (for here I met a quintette of American friends "doing" the forest) , that he was a lunatic for desiring trout fried in lard when he could have them boiled in the Black Forest style. This style was peculiar, I must say, for the fish were always brought to the table alive, at first, swimming in a bucket of water. Although this dish was peculiar, the table d'hote was of the conventional pattern. All table d'hotes are. Do you know what this infliction means? It is as if a French cook were pursuing you through Europe! Everywhere the same food, cooked forever in the same manner. The solemnity begins with soup, after which comes a long pause, so long that you fear that the waiters have gone off to catch the fish. Finally they appear with the viand in question, together with a butter sauce and a dish of boiled potatoes. Now follows a long hiatus, ample time being given to digest the fish and get up a new appetite. Slowly and mournfully the waiters approach with bad roast beef and string beans. Again an interregnum , and then comes veal in some shape . The lapse of time which now follows is such that the guests feel old age coming on; at last the waiters come on also, and donate a piece of chicken or capon with salad to each victim. Finally the now decrepit and toothless guests re- ceive some pudding, fruit, etc., and depart. The man who has lived ten years at a European hotel has probably spent six years waiting for courses at a table d'hote, arid the above lines apply to every table d'hote in Europe. A fact worth recording is that when we leave the Freiburg hotel our burly host not only wrings our hands almost off, but gives to each a little present. To me he gave a bottle 28 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. of Kirschwasser, strong enough to burn through the stomach of a bronze statue. I, however, used it on the guides and drivers along the route, and they do not curl up and die, but smack their lips and enjoy it, as the Irishman did the aquafortis. We leave the land of railroad and stage here, and on horseback and in a wagonnette, hired by the day, pursue our explorations into the forest. The very names are awe- inspiring. Our first point is the "Hollenthal." "Down into the valley of Hell Rode the six — tourists." A fanciful name, but well enough deserved, for steep cliffs, dark glens and weird gorges are in it, and just after it comes the "Himmelreich," or " Paradise,' ' a smiling and pleasant valley, in fine contrast. We pass innumerable crucifixes. On almost every house there is a holy horror of some sort. It seems to be a sort of celestial fire insurance. The tiny chapels and churches in the depth of the woods are, however, a charming feature of the tour. We passed one little forest church which was so diminutive that if Phillips Brooks were to preach 'in it, it would be full, with- out any congregation whatever. At the little village of Hollenthal, just in front of the Star Hotel, we organized an impromptu game of base ball. The nines were very frag- mentary, but energetic, and the natives got out of the way with much celerity whenever a hot one came from the bat. They evidently thought that we were members of some insane asylum, and treated us with respectful pity. Finally one of the party knocked the ball into a mountain stream and another tumbled in after it while trying to fish it out, and the game came to an untimely end, but we had the satisfaction of being the first to play the American game in the Black Forest. EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. 29 Then followed a walk through the Rabenschlucht — the raven 's gorge — the beauty of which I cannot represent even if I were to print this chapter in colored ink. In every direction are beautiful walks and grand views, and a whole summer could not exhaust the interest of these valleys and hills. If the peasants could exist on scenery they would have an easy time of it; as it is they live mostly on potatoes, and are underfed and overworked. We go on to the Titi See, which is a lake in the midst of hills, full of fish. The roads all through this wonderful region are marvelously well made, as smooth as a table, and as clean. At this point I made a detour alone, to the little hamlet of Untermiinsterthal, in the dark recesses of the famous woods. A ruined castle stands at the entrance of the forest, which is black and gloomy enough to countenance all the terrible legends of robbery and violence which cluster around the place. On the way to the place I pass through the busy little city of Stauff en . Along the road I count fifteen crucifixes and shrines and ten breweries, from which I conclude that the inhabi- tants are devoted to religion and beer. As I drive along in my lordly coach every one takes off his hat in humble salute, which I acknowledge with a wave of the hand, as I suppose a great lord might do, but my dignity sits rather heavily upon me. I might ride all around Chicago in a hansom, and pay double the fare I am now giving, and not get so much homage. I feel like the rightful lord of the manor, returning to his own amid the joyous shouts of the happy peasantry, in the fifth act of a Bowery melo- drama. But, alas, the peasantry are not all happy, as I soon find out, for I have undertaken to bear the greetings of an absent son to his parents in the far-off forest, and in the little cot- tage the mother weeps and weeps to think that her boy has somehow come nearer to her, and yet is so far away. "The 30 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. short and simple annals of the poor" have been to me the dreariest thing in all Europe since I first landed on that side. Yet there is something to be said in favor of vegetating as some of these villagers do. The pretty cottages, with low, over-hanging roofs, are not uncomfortable, and the barn at the side, the piles of wood near the door, the mountain tor- rents rushing by, the wind soughing and singing in the trees, and the weird yet alluring depths of the wonderful enchanted forest, make up a picture which must make some impression on the inhabitants, even though they know it not. Their very legends and folk-lore prove it. On my return I find the party quite ready to proceed to Furtwangen, a distance of fully forty miles through the forest by stage. It is a delight to get away from the iron horse, to leave railroads and civilization altogether, (even if we cannot leave the beer saloon) , and come to the quaint little villages nestling among the hills, where the inhabitants know nothing of tourists, not even enough to bleed them. From the valleys our road goes up into the clouds, and at Giitenbach it is as cold as the most cultured Bostonian. Allured by the frigidity, and the apparent proximity of the peak, three of us leave the carriage, strike across lots, and endeavor to reach it on foot. Put not your trust in mountain distances! Before I get there my collar has gone down the back of my neck, I am breathing like an asthmatic locomotive, and m}^ feet seem to weigh six hundred pounds each. Furtwangen is a small city (over 3,000 inhabitants), but it is not down in the guide books and it has no city ways. It is also far from any railroad and devoted to clock-mak- ing and woodcarving. All the inhabitants study the latter and I visited the school where it is taught and saw the youngsters begin on carving raised diamonds on wooden plates, and the advanced classes end with most intricate and EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. 31 beautiful works of art in wood. Outside of the city I again tried mountain climbing; it is disgusting to toil up a couple of thousand feet and when you imagine that you have achieved something, to find a peasant complacently mowing or raking on top. They cultivate the land at unheard-of heights in this country. I imagine that they plow with balloons, and roll the harvest over the precipices into the valley, when it is ripe. We left the Black Forest at Triberg, and in the most dis- mal of rainstorms. All these charming mountain districts become fearfully dull when it storms, for then one can do nothiog but sit in -doors (or ride in a closed carriage) , or play billiards on tables with stony-hearted cushions, or chat with the scheme Kellnerin in the Wirthschaft. Even the latter resources failed , for when the fair maiden grew con- fidential and told me her name was Gretchen , I told her my name was Faust, and she didn't believe me, and went away. It is hopeless to joke with a driver here. In the midst of a pouring rain , our Jehu , who was taking us to Triberg, pulled up and asked if we wanted to see the waterfall! I told him that we could see the water fall very readily from where we sat; and he responded that that was impossible, for we would have to walk ten minutes through the woods before it came in sight. The Spanish fleet thou canst not see Because — it is not yet in sight. He wore cotton wool in his ears — all the drivers wear cotton wool in their ears. I think it is to keep their brains from evaporating. Naturally , they cannot hear very well. I told my driver to go into a wayside inn , where we stopped a while, and take a glass of beer at my expense; he took a bottle of good wine and charged it to me. But even good wine does not cost much , and no good traveler ought to worry over the small extortions of travel. With ordinary 32 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. care the entire cheatings of a long trip will not cost much more than a $10 bill will cover. How lonely one feels abroad when suddenly separated from traveling companions! I have a distinct fit of the blues as I make the journey towards Saxony alone, while the quin- tette leave the forest solitudes for the activity of Paris. But once in Leipsic I find friends again and, best of all, plenty of musical companionship. The famous old spots are visited in turn, beginning with a thirsty trip to Auerbach's Keller, made immortal by Goethe in his " Faust." To those who have read the work I can asseverate that no great band of students would find room to sing in its quarters, and Me- phistopheles would have been scared away by the high prices before he had a chance to sing his song. But it looks very ancient, and the mural paintings look old enough to have been done by Holbein. A pleasant call at the Leipsic con- servatory followed, and I met Professor Jadassohn, who is not only a splendid musician and composer, but a witty gen- tleman as well. His definition of the different species of composers struck me as epigrammatic. He said: " There are two species of renowned composers in the sea of music. Some of them are fishes, and some have learned how to swim. Mozart was one of the fishes." Reinecke, the veteran di- rector of the Gewandhaus concerts and of the Conservatory, also made a remark which will bear transcribing. Speaking of new countries and their growth in music, he said: "The chief trouble is that they inherit too soon the wealth of the older countries . They receive at once the most highly spiced and richly developed music of the modern masters, instead of growing up to them as we had to do." He feared that this would militate against a love of the clearer and simpler masterpieces of art, and that the mind beginning with the modern school would never duly appreciate Mozart or Haydn . He is very liberal, too, this Nestor among conductors, and EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. 33 while deprecating the vulgarities of Verdi, recognized the inspiration of parts of the Requiem and of the quartette in 1 ' Rigoletto . ' ' This may astonish many of the lesser musi- cians, who deem it incumbent to kick at Verdi at least once a day. Kapellmeister Reinecke in himself illustrates the modestly great character of the German musicians of rank. He has no tremendous salary; he does not dictate royal terms for every appearance of himself and orchestra; but he is sin- cerely honored by every one in Leipsic, and in his autograph album are letters of heartiest recognition from Schumann and Berlioz, down to kings and queens. It is, however, no longer a combination of poverty and honor for the mu- sicians in German}^. Mozart's day of suffering is past. An eminent professor at Leipsic told me that the high prices paid in America are having their influence in Germany . The great institutions find that if they wish to keep the musicians from starting for the New "World, they must give pecuniary inducements to stay in the Old. I had some charming glimpses of the home life of Kapellmeister Reinecke, as he took me from the Conservatory to his modest quarters in the Quersfrasse, somewhat nearer the sky than some of our less learned native composers dwell. A number of charm- ing young ladies of assorted sizes greeted my view in the drawing room, and I was presented, one by one, to the daughters of the Kapellmeister. Astounded at the rather numerous gathering, I ventured to ask whether any had es- caped, and was informed that some of them had, — into the bonds of wedlock . The sons , too , seemed especially bright , and the wit and badinage around the dinner table was some- thing long to be remembered. Reinecke has not got the American fever to any extent, and a very short sojourn showed me why he is not anxious to change his position for one in the New World. It is true that he has not a salary such as our directors and conductors of first rank obtain, 34 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. but on every side were tokens of friendship and homage from the greatest men and women of Europe, and when, the next day, he took me to his Kneipe near the Conservatory, I noticed that every one in Leipsic took off his hat to the simple and good old man; every one, from nobleman to peasant. It counts for something to be thus honored and beloved, and perhaps a few thousand dollars would not com- pensate for the loss of such friends. How kindly and pa- ternal Reinecke is, may be clearly shown by relating the origin of the beautiful violin part to the song " Spring Flowers." He had composed this without any violin obbli- gato whatever, and it was to be sung by a young lady at her debut in a Gewandhaus concert. The evening before the concert the artist came with a decided fit of the " nerves " to Reinecke's home, and in trembling and tears expressed her forebodings for the debut of the morrow. The good- hearted composer sat down to think matters over, and then exclaimed, "I will give you some extra support for the voice so that you cannot fail," and then wrote the violin part, which is so tender and characteristic. Immediate rehearsal followed, and thanks to the violin support and the goodness of Reinecke, the debut was a success. And at the Kneipe, too, I saw how much of contentment, passing riches, there was in such an artistic life, for here in the corner of a very modest Wirthschaft were gathered some of the greatest art- workers of Leipsic (literature and painting were represented, as well as music) , and every day at noon they met and spoke of their work, their hopes, their plans, and their arts; in such an atmosphere the plant of high ideality could not but thrive, and I could only wish that we might some da} T have such unostentatious and practical gatherings among the artists of America. EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. 35 CHAPTER IV. Northward to kiel — the north sea and baltic — Copen- hagen GADE AND THE DANISH STATE CONSERVATORY AN INTERVIEW WITH SVENDSEN MUSIC AT THE TIVOLI A CONVIVIAL ARTIST'S GATHERING SCHARWENKA, DAHL AND OTHERS A DANGEROUS BATH UNEXPECTED FRIENDS. From Leipsic I made a speedy allegro through the north . During the larger part of this trip I had with me a very- lively cornet player from Boston, a member of the sym- phony orchestra, and a very genial comrade. We had a sudden addition to our party, while traveling through Ger- many. It occurred thus: We had just passed the Saxon frontier, and were settling down to smoke and meditation, when, to our annoyance, two other travelers cnme into our compartment to claim seats. One then inquired of me in German which was little short of barbaric, if the train went through to Hamburg. Having answered in German, my answer was duly translated into English by the questioner to his companion. "Those fellows wanted to have the entire train to themselves," said one of the newcomers to the other. This remark was not translated to me . After a silence of some minutes, for the translations to and fro were rather arduous, one of the strangers began to get hungry; "ask that duffer if we are ever to get any lunch , ' ' quoth he ; it was high time , evidently, to arrange amortus vivendi with the newly arrived 36 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. delegation from the United States; therefore I suggested, as a relief from the strain of thus being filtered through Ger- man into English and back again, that we talk in the United States tongue at first hand! Tableau of joy and celestial happiness! The rescued wanderers were from the west; they were railroad men; they represented the Chicago, Mil- waukee & St. Paul railroad, one as its general emigration agent, the other as its European agent, their names were Powell and Norton, and they were in for any missionary efforts in the wickedest capitals of Europe that we might suggest. They agreed to join our caravan as far as Copen- hagen. Another gentleman, who will be readily recognized by his name — Mr. Smith — had also agreed to go the northern route with us; so it will be readily seen that I was a sort of railway "Pied Piper of Hamelin," whose services would be of enormous value to Cook, or any other well conducted tourist office. Our carriage, after the advent of a whole American rail- way company, became the scene of a prolonged revelry. The emigrant (by which it will be understood that I mean the gentlemanly emigration agent) spoke English and Welsh. The latter language was a blessing to us, for by it we over- came many a pompous official. If we came to a custom house where the officials spoke English, French, German, Danish, Italian and Spanish, we would send forward the emigrant, who would address them calmly and serenely in a language in which one consonant tumbled over the other. No hotel porter dared withstand this master stroke. But 1 grieve to say that a disease broke out in the party during the long railway journey to Hamburg. It was not cholera. It was kleptomania. Our trumpeter (cornetist aforesaid) and the emigrant, were suddenly seized with a vehement de- sire for relics of the trip, and after that at eveiy station a wild rush was made for the refreshment counter. Beer was EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. 37 the ostensible motive, but alas! after leaving each station their pockets disgorged matches, match boxes, a cracked beer mug, a placard, and one even purloined a railway illus- trated time table. During that devastating ride through Germany our car became more and more like a bric-a-brac shop. If America ever comes to a war with Germany (which Heaven forbid!) I should suggest to our government to en- gage our party as raiders. Sherman's march to the sea w r as nothing to our advance upon Hamburg. As this was the only time in my life that I became a relic hunter, I hope that my depredations, which were amply paid for in extra " tips," may be forgiven. Arrived at the Hamburger Hof,a hotel which is as grand as a castle, and has a splendid view, we allowed the emigrant to practice Welsh on the porter, while we engaged rooms, and after we had scrubbed off all the German real estate ac- quired on our journey, and disposed of all our ill-gotten 4 'relics," we sat down to a champagne supper, in which the C, M. & St. P. R. R. formally expressed its joy at making our acquaintance. When the traveler strikes the continent he leaves behind him two important conveniences — gas and soap. I can un- derstand why the continentals don't use each other's soap, and extend them my sympathy; but why they should build a hotel like a palace, and then put a few tallow dips in a room as large as a concert hall, passes my understanding. It must be that somebody once blew the gas out, and they wouldn't take any further chances. The next day our goodly company started for Copen- hagen. The journey through Altona to Kiel was of a gentler and more subdued character than that to Hamburg, and the thirst for seizing upon movable property had departed from us. At Kiel we found the boat in which we were to brave the raging sea to be a very small ship with a very large 38 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. captain . At first the voyage bade fair to be a prosperous one, and in the glee of a misplaced confidence we formed ourselves into a male quartette, and, taking seats upon the paddle-box, began an impromptu concert. In the midst of our singing we became aware of a series of violent knock- ings upon the paddle-box. Thinking that possibly some official of an effete monarchy was desirous of silencing our warblings, we only sang the louder. It was now "Good-by , sweetheart," that we were mangling, when, just as we had musically announced our intention of never leaving, though we'd said " Good-by, sweetheart, good-by," the knocking burst into a roar, and the whole paddle-box arose in the air in a shower of splinters. We concluded to retract our sen- timents and leave. We left; I may even say that we left rapidly. We all thought the scenery on the other side of the boat was more attractive. The boat came to a stand- still, and an examination showed that some rivets had be- come loosened and the wheel had been thrown from its bearings. We were obliged to lay to for three hours on the Ostsee in a heavy swell. There was nothing to do in the in- interim but to begin to fraternize with the passengers. But as these all began to have an ominously pale look and clinch their lips strangely, their conversation was not brilliant. I had watched a young Frenchman of obese tendencies at the table d'hote go through every dish on the table, and I found a few moments' relaxation in mentally going through the bill of fare backwards and checking off the viands as he gave them up; but after he had passed the soup on the return journey, even that amusement failed me. I was then struck with a happy thought and , borrowing a line which was on board , I philosophically went a-fishing. As the net result of half an hour was one misguided "torsk" (a diminutive rock cod), I gave this up, too, and went back to the pas- sengers. This time I was more fortunate, and found a EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. 39 young lady who had traveled all over South America, and spoke all languages except Welsh, so I had no fears of the irrepressible emigrant interrupting our conversation. I do not intend to inflict all the details of society conversation upon my readers, but I do think it worth while to record one fact that I was informed of, which is that the wild Ger- man youth do not have dime novels, but indulge in reading translations of an American author — J. Fenimore Cooper. I fear that our adventurous "small boy" would find Cooper rather slow. Finally the wheel was repaired, and the boat proceeded to its destination — Korsor. Here we took a railroad for Copen- hagen, whose every move was a volcanic eruption and an earthquake; but finally we arrived, and sought hospitable beds in the Hotel d'Angleterre. The Danes must be very ignorant. They spell Copenhagen Kjobenkavn! Fancy ask- ing a party of young ladies to join in a game of Kjobenhavn! They are far more honest, however, than the southern Europeans toward the tourist. They take their '• tips " regu- larly , but with perfect frankness , and without any sacrifice of dignity. I experienced this, when, on my arrival,! asked a gorgeous creature with huge side whiskers and a black dress coat, where I could be brushed and cleaned . He beckoned me aside, and, taking me to a side room, dropped on his knees. It was not to confess that he had embezzled the funds of a Danish savings bank, or to say that he was the traitorous ambassador of some Norwegian king; it was simply to black my boots; The operation was an embarrassing one; I felt as if I were receiving a shine from an archbishop, and it was with difficulty that I could bring myself to give him a half krone (fourteen cents) which, however, he took. In the evening we all went to the Tivoli. This is one of the chief sights of Copenhagen . It is a pleasure ground not unlike the Prater at Vienna, but smaller. Every kind of 40 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. amusement is going on within its limits, from whirligigs to classical concerts. First we went to a military concert here, where we sat and sipped our beer in sweet content, and with- out even feeling a desire to steal the beer glass; and here I had my first encounter with the Danish language. I had been carefully preparing myself with stock phrases, which I was ready to throw out easily and gracefully at any Dane who would stand them. The waiter stood them, but I can- not say that he understood them. He even answered back, as if it were my business to understand him. He finally got me so snarled up that I didn't understand myself, but by expressive pantomime we obtained our beer, and the Rubi- con was passed. I am not going to describe Thorwaldsen's Museum, where he lies at rest in his most fitting monument, amidst his own works. Any artistic reader who desires to know more about the impressions which thrill one in seeing these must buy " Baedecker's Guide," and get seven shillings worth of emotion . There is a wonderful steeple in Copenhagen. The steps which lead to the top go around the outside, and when one gets there a view bursts upon the beholder which em- braces all Copenhagen and the' surrounding country, and causes him to thrill with, etc., etc. (see guide book again for further details). I didn't go up. But I did see the great race of the Year at the suburb of Klampenborg. It was suf- ficiently important to draw horses and jockeys from Germany and England, and naturally drew out all of Denmark's aris- tocracy. A ride of an hour, and then a walk through the most beautiful of woods (the king's deer park) , brought us to the race-course. The crown prince and family were there, and carriages innumerable, as at an English Derby. The great stakes were won by a German horse, quite unexpectedly. I saw EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. 41 his jockey bold him back until past the quarter pole on the home stretch, and then, with the grandest possible rush, pass by everything and come in, not a full length ahead. At the finish (in sporting parlance) a blanket could have covered them all — if it had been large enough. The crowd burst forth in wild "hurrahs," but when the name was announced they changed these to hisses. Why? Because Denmark cordially detests Germany, and remembers Schles- wig-Holstein. After seeing a poorly run hurdle race, I went down to the fair which followed. I saw a Danish Punch and Judy. I did not fully understand the dialogue, but when I saw a gentleman with a crown seized by an imp and dragged off, I knew it was the German Emperor being escorted to a land where ulsters are unknown. I felt then that the Danes did not like Germany. The fair was like all other European peasant gatherings — people dancing in a heart-rending manner in hot sheds; soldiers parading with pretty sweethearts and smoking cigars that can be imagined but never described; booths with orches- tras, a bass tuba and a cornet; and a general enjoyment of everything that was unenjoyable, and chatter and noise everywhere. Back to Copenhagen after this. But never can pen of mine describe the agonies of getting back. The State rail- road of Denmark was unequal to the task of transporting fifteen thousand people, and the passengers had sometimes to wait two hours before getting a train, although they ran every fifteen minutes; the people were herded together like cattle, and admitted to the cars in separate droves. Yet all were so patient and uncomplaining that it was a perfect revelation to an American. Not a word or a murmur was heard from even women who stood with children in their arms. Meanwhile, the Chicago, Milwaukee & St. Paul rail- road, in the person of its accredited representatives, waxed 42 EUROPEAN REMINISCENCES. wroth. " If we dared to do anything like this," said the European (the European agent, as distinct from the Emi- grant) , "the people would mob us, and they would be right. This comes of centuries of endurance 1 They'd better im- port an American railway," and so on to the end of the chapter. It availed nothing. Completely fagged out, we finally reached Copenhagen. On the way, I had a question to ask of the conductor. I began, " Taler er Tisk?" (Do you speak German?) " No," was the snarly answer, "and I don't want to learn." I begin to suspect that the Danes don't like Germany. On the way home I was suddenly aroused from my lethargy. I smelt a smell. It was a strong smell. One that was richer than any of the hun- dred smells in Cologne, and stronger than any to be found in Naples. It was a Danish cheese store. They have very many cheese stores here, and each smells worse than the other. It brought back to memory Shakespeare's famous description of a Copenhagen cheese factory — " Something is rotten in the State of Denmark." This is the "some- thing " referred to, and the description is quite correct. Our Copenhagen experience was a brilliant and varied one. Our emigrant (the aforesaid emigration agent of the Chicago, Milwaukee