BAPTIZED BELLS
Baptized bells are still by many people believed to possess marvellous powers. In Roman Catholic countries the large church bells are most frequently named after particular saints. The baptism, or the dedication to a saint, as the case may be, is performed with solemn ceremonies. The words of consecration pronounced by the priest are "May this bell be sanctified and consecrated in the name of the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Ghost, in honour of Saint – ." A real baptism does not always take place, but the solemn consecration resembles so closely a baptismal ceremony that it is not surprising the people should generally regard it as such; neither is it surprising that with these exhibitions there should still prevail many superstitious notions relating to miraculous bells.
The uneducated man in Lithuania believes that a newly-cast church bell emits no sound until it has been consecrated and baptized; and the sound of a baptized bell, he fancies, frightens away all sorcery, and even the devil. Moreover, the Lithuanians have a poetical and beautiful conception, according to which the souls of the deceased are floated on the sounds of baptized bells into Heaven.32
If we look back a century or two, we meet with popular traditions implying that baptized bells were regarded by many persons much as living beings. Take, for instance, the following story, recorded by Montano: – "When the French, anno 1677, in their cruel madness held possession of the town of Deux-Ponts (or Zweibrücken), they took the bell from the church-tower and endeavoured to destroy it by knocking it to pieces. This they were, however, unable to accomplish. They, therefore, made a large fire, upon which they placed the bell with the intention of melting it. All the military officers stood by to watch the process. How great was their surprise when they saw that the tortured bell begin to sweat blood! The highest officer took his handkerchief, stained it with the blood, and sent it to the King of France; for he thought it possible that, without this irrefragable evidence, neither the king nor anyone else would believe the miracle."
The Swiss preserve some curious traditions respecting baptized bells. They have even had a medal struck commemorating some miracle which occurred when the Pope sent such a blessed bell to the canton of Valais. Moreover, all the bells of the Roman Catholic churches in Switzerland wander annually to Rome for the purpose of confession. They leave on Thursday in Passion Week, and return on the following Saturday; at any rate, there is no bell-ringing during the time indicated. Rochholz says that it is a usual custom in Switzerland to have sponsors at the baptismal ceremony of a church-bell, to dress the bell for the occasion in a garment called "Westerhemd;" to pronounce the Creed in its name; and to sprinkle it with holy water. All these rites were, for instance, observed in the village of Ittenthalen situated in the valley of Frickthal, canton Aargau, where the new bell received not only the name of the godmother, but also was presented by her with a baptismal gift of 200 francs.33
Unbaptized bells have, according to accounts from various countries, often proved troublesome, and instances are mentioned of their having flown out of towers, several miles distance through the air, and having fallen into a pond believed to be bottomless. In Moringen, a small town south of Hanover, is a bottomless pond called "Opferteich" ('Pond of Sacrifice') near which, according to an old tradition, the pagan ancestors of the people of Moringen used to offer sacrifice. A bell which through some neglect had not received the rite of baptism, flew into the pond, where it is said to be chained fast and guarded by a ferocious dog. Another unbaptized bell was carried by an awful storm from the church of Grone, a village not far from Moringen, a long distance through the air, and sunk into a pond, where it rests on a table covered with black. At least, a diver, whom the peasants engaged to recover it, reported that he had seen it so placed. But when they sent the diver down a second time, provided with a rope to secure the bell, they found, on drawing up the rope, the diver and not the bell fastened to it, and he was dead.34
In a morass near the town of Lochen, in Holland, are two ponds of stagnant water, in which the Evil One has hidden two fine bells which, many years ago, he suddenly carried off from the church-tower of Lochen, as they had not been baptized. These bells are still heard by the people, tolling every year on Christmas Eve precisely at twelve o'clock. The Dutch call these two ponds "Duivelskolken."35
INSCRIPTIONS ON CHURCH BELLS
The inscriptions on church bells are sometimes so quaint, and in some countries so characteristic, that a collection of them would probably be amusing. Take, for instance, the following English specimens, in which the names of the donors are immortalised: —
On a bell at Alderton are the words: —
"I'm given here to make a peal,
And sound the praise of Mary Neale."
And on a bell at Binstead: —
"Doctor Nicholas gave five pounds,
To help cast this peal tuneable and sound."
An alarm-bell in the church of Sherborne, cast in the year 1652, bears the inscription: —
"Lord, quench this furious flame!
Arise, run, help, put out the same!"
On the bell which emits the highest sound in the peal of St. Mary's, at Devizes, are the words: —
"I am the first, altho' but small,
I will be heard above you all."
St. Helen's Church, at Worcester, possesses a set of eight bells, cast in the time of Queen Anne, with inscriptions recording the victories gained in her reign.
A recent traveller in Iceland saw in a village of that country a church-bell which had the inscription in the German language: —
"Aus dem Feuer bin ich gegossen,
Hans Meyer in Kopenhagen hat mich geflossen, Anno 1663."36
recording that it had been cast, more than two hundred years ago, by a German founder residing in Denmark. The great bell in the cathedral at Glasgow contains a statement of its having been cast in the year 1583, in Holland, and recast in the year 1790 in London; and a bell in the cathedral of St. Magnus, at Kirkwall, Orkney, records that it was sent to Amsterdam to be recast in the year 1682. Still more frequent than historical statements are scriptural sentences and religious admonitions.
The Burmese, in order to protect a newly-cast bell from being defiled by their European aggressors, have hit upon the expedient of supplying it with a threatening sentence. The bell is in a Buddhist temple at Moulmein. Besides an inscription in Burmese characters it has a sentence in bad English running thus: —
"This bell is made by Koonalinnguhjah the priest, and the weight 600 viss. No one body design to destroy this bell. Moulmein, March 30, 1855. He who destroyed this bell, they must be in the great heell and unable to coming out."
THE CHURCH BELLS BANISHING THE MOUNTAIN-DWARFS
Curious traditions are still found among the country people in Sweden, Denmark, Germany and some other European countries, of mountain-dwarfs, and suchlike mysterious inhabitants of the country, having been forced to emigrate on account of the bell-ringing. To note one instance: —
In Holstein, people say, a large number of mountain-dwarfs, greatly troubled by the sounds of the many new church-bells introduced, made up their mind to leave the country. Accordingly, having arranged their affairs, they set out in a body and travelled northwards until they came to the River Eider, at a place where there is a ferry. It was late in the night when a knock at the door aroused the ferryman from his sleep. He thought he must have been dreaming; for, it had never happened that anybody had called him up in the middle of the night to be ferried over the river. He therefore took no notice of it, and soon fell asleep again. But after awhile he was awakened by the sound of another knock at the door; and this time he felt sure he had not been dreaming. So he dressed himself quickly, and opened the house-door to see who was there. But, strange enough, he saw no one at the door; and when he called out in the dark, inquiring who wanted him, he got no reply. Then he thought the best thing he could do would be to go to bed again. However, he had scarcely taken his coat off, when there came a bang at the door which quite startled him, so loud it was. Taking up a bludgeon from a corner of the room, and putting on his hat, he at once went out of the house to scrutinise the place.
He had gone only a few steps in the direction towards the river, when to his great surprise he saw before him in a field a multitude of gray-looking dwarfs, who moved restlessly to and fro like ants when you open an ant-hill. Presently one of them, a very old fellow with a long white beard, approached the ferryman and requested him to convey the whole company over the Eider.
"You will be duly paid for your services," said the pigmy with the long beard. "Only place your hat upon the bank of the river for our people to throw the money into as they enter the boat."
The ferryman did as he was desired; but he would rather not have had anything to do with these people. The boat was soon crowded with them. They scrambled about everywhere like insects, and he had to make the passage several times before he had carried them all over to the opposite bank of the river. He observed that each of them threw what appeared to be a grain of sand into the hat; but this he did not mind – thinking only how glad he should be when he had got rid of them all. In fact, he did not trust them, especially as the fellow with the long beard informed him that they were compelled to migrate to some other part of the world on account of the church bells and the hymn-singing, which they could not put up with any longer.
When the ferryman had carried over the last load of the little emigrants, he saw that the whole field near the place where he had landed them was glittering with lights, which flitted about in every direction. The little wanderers had all of them lighted their lanterns. But when he had returned to the bank near his house, and came to take up his hat, how he opened his eyes! Certainly he had never been so surprised in all his life. The hat was full of gold!
He joyfully carried the treasure into his house, and was immensely rich ever after. In short, this simple man became in no time one of the most respectable gentlemen in the country, and died actually worth thousands of pounds.
THE EXPULSION OF PAGANISM IN SWEDEN
If the reader should ever happen to visit Lagga, a parish in the south-west of Sweden, the people will point out to him an enormously large stone which a giant once threw at a church, and in which the marks of his strong fingers are still discernible. It was, Afzelius says, a common practice with giants in Sweden to hurl stones at the churches, but they never hit them. Moreover, the sound of the church bell was very hateful to them. Near Lagga is a mountain celebrated as the former domicile of a giant, who lived there until the time of the Reformation, when the church of the place was provided with bells. One morning the dejected giant addressed a peasant from Lagga, whose name was Jacob, and who happened to be at the foot of the mountain. "Jacob!" said the giant in a subdued tone of voice, "come in, Jacob, and eat of my stew!"
But Jacob, alarmed at the kind invitation, replied rather hesitatingly: "Sir, if you have more stew than you can consume, you had better keep the rest for to-morrow."
Upon this sensible advice, the dejected giant complained: "I cannot stay here even till to-morrow! I am compelled to leave this place because of the constant bell-ringing, which is quite insupportable!"
Whereupon Jacob, getting a little courage, asked him: "And when do you intend to come back again?"
The dejected giant, hearing himself thus questioned, ejaculated whiningly: "Come back again? Oh! certainly not until the mount has become the bottom of the sea, and the sea itself arable and fertile land; if this should ever happen, then I may perhaps come back again."
CURIOSITIES IN MUSICAL LITERATURE
Anything which is new and unprecedented in music is seldom at once properly appreciated by the majority of musicians however beautiful it may be. Hence the diversity of opinion concerning certain important musical compositions which we meet with in our literature.
The 'Letters on Musical Taste' written by J. B. Schaul ('Briefe über den Geschmack in der Musik. Carlsruhe, 1809,') contain many sensible observations which are blemished by unreasonable attacks on Mozart, because the then new composer did not in his operas restrict himself to the same treatment of the orchestra to which previous masters had accustomed the ear. Schaul was a great admirer of Boccherini. "What a difference between a Mozart and a Boccherini!" he exclaims. "The former leads us among rugged rocks in a thorny forest but sparingly strewn with flowers; whereas the latter conducts us into a smiling landscape with flowery meadows, clear and murmuring brooks, and shady groves, where our spirit abandons itself with delight to a sweet melancholy, which affords it an agreeable recreation even after it has left these pleasant regions."
There are several other remarks of this kind in the book, which aroused the ire of Carl Maria von Weber, and induced him to take up his pen in defence of Mozart,37 which he probably would have thought unnecessary, if the book were not otherwise rather clever.
When, in the year 1790, Mozart's 'Don Giovanni' was performed in Berlin for the first time, the new opera found favour with the public, but by no means with the critics. The following extract is translated from the 'Chronik von Berlin,' Vol. IX., p. 133: – "It is not by overcharging the orchestra, but by expressing the emotions and passions of the heart, that the composer achieves anything great, and transmits his name to posterity. Grétry, Monsigny, and Philidor are, and ever will be, examples of this truth. Mozart, in his 'Don Giovanni,' aimed at producing something extraordinary, thus much is certain, and something extraordinary surely he has produced; nothing however, which could not be imitated, or which is great. Not the heart, but whim, eccentricity, and pride are the sources from which 'Don Giovanni' has emanated… This opera, nevertheless, proved remunerative to the manager; and gallery, boxes and pit will also in future not be empty; for a ghost in armour and furies spitting fire are a powerful magnet."38
The chord with the augmented octave, which occurs several times in Mozart's overture to 'Don Giovanni': —
has caused more than one honest theorist to shake his head. No doubt, if seen in notation disconnected from the preceding and following bars, it looks deterrent enough; but ought it thus to be judged? Still, Schilling in his Musical Dictionary,39 has thought it necessary to excuse Mozart for having used this chord. In the article headed "Accord" he remarks: "Türk says we possess no chord with an augmented octave. Until Mozart, this interval was only used as a Suspension. Mozart, however, makes it stable enough by filling with it a whole bar of 4/4 time. The master always knows why he acts in a certain particular way and not otherwise; and as in 'Don Giovanni' the extraordinary is predominant, this long-sustained augmented interval – this premeditated poignard-stab – may stand there as a warning to our libertines. We, for our part, know nothing more frightful than this sustained chord, and the sudden energy with which it is intended to be executed."
If Mozart could provoke adverse criticism, it is not surprising that Beethoven did, considering his great originality. Dr. Crotch therefore, should not be thought a worse critic than many others when he says (in his 'Lectures,' London, 1831, p. 146) of Beethoven: "That he has ever disregarded the rules of composition is to be regretted, as there does not seem to have been the least good obtained by it in any one instance."
Rochlitz, in criticising Beethoven's last violin quartets, which he evidently did not like, cautiously observes: "When Beethoven had published his first three Trios for pianoforte, violin and violoncello – and soon afterwards, his first Symphony in C major – a certain reviewer thought it right and good to speak of the Trios almost jokingly, treating them rather as confused explosions of the bold wantonness of a young man of talent; and the symphony he earnestly and warningly declared to be an odd imitation of the style of Haydn, amounting almost to caricature. Yet this critic was really an able musician of much experience, and standing firm as a rock in his time and its theory. He had also produced many works which are justly appreciated, and he liked Beethoven in a degree. Had the man given his name, or did we not owe reticence to the dead, every reader would concede this, and even more, if we named him. Again, when Beethoven had finished his second Symphony in D major, and Prince Lichnowsky brought the manuscript to Leipzig, Spazier, after the performance of the symphony, gave his opinion about it in his new journal, entitled 'Zeitung für die elegante Welt.' He called it a coarse monster – a pierced dragon writhing indomitably, which will not die, and which in bleeding to death (Finale) flourishes its uplifted tail furiously in all directions in vain. Now, Spazier was a clever fellow, a many-sided and versatile man, and by no means inexperienced. As musician, he was acquainted with every composition which in his time was considered as superior. Having been a pupil and faithful assistant of Reichardt, he enjoyed as a critic a by no means small reputation, and was even feared. Since then, twenty-five years have elapsed; and what is now thought of these works by the whole world?"40
A collection of the musical reviews emanating from critics of reputation, which condemn our master-works, might be amusing, but would probably be more ridiculous than instructive. England especially could contribute a large share of such curiosities in musical literature. No doubt some of the judges were clever enough; they cannot exactly be said to have been unable to understand what they criticised; but they had compiled a certain code of rules for their own guidance in judging, gathered from the works of some favourite composer, which rules they considered as the only right ones. Consequently they denounced whatever they found in disagreement with their adopted code.
J. N. Forkel, the learned and justly-esteemed author of a 'History of Music,' and of several other useful works, possessed for J. S. Bach so intense an admiration, that he had at last no ear for any composer who differed from his idol. Hence his unwarrantable attacks on Gluck in his 'Musikalisch-Kritische Bibliothek,' Gotha, 1778.
We possess in the German language a cleverly written book entitled 'Ueber Reinheit der Tonkunst' (On the Purity of Music), the first edition of which appeared in the year 1825. The author of this book, A. C. J. Thibaut, a distinguished Professor of Law in Heidelberg, had studied the old Italian and Dutch Church composers of the time of Palestrina, whose works he delighted in having performed at regular meetings of a number of well-trained choristers in his house. Thibaut's enthusiasm for the old writers of vocal music without instrumental accompaniment was so unbounded that the great instrumental compositions by Beethoven and others had but little attraction for him. He ridicules with much sarcasm Weber's overture to 'Oberon.' Celebrated pianists evidently found but little favour with him. Still, Thibaut has had a beneficial influence on musicians, and his strange and spirited book deserves a prominent place among our curiosities in musical literature.
Distinguished composers sometimes prove but unreliable judges of the merits of other composers, especially if the latter are their contemporaries, and perhaps their rivals. We know from the biographies of the composers how greatly Weber disliked Rossini; how lightly Spohr appreciated Weber's 'Der Freischütz' when all the world was in ecstasy about the opera; how Spohr found fault with Beethoven's symphonies. And we know what Beethoven, in an unguarded moment, said of these composers. We remember Mozart's unfavourable opinions concerning Clementi, Abbé Vogler and some other musical celebrities of his time; likewise J. S. Bach's joking remarks to his son Friedemann about their going to Dresden to listen to the "pretty little songs" of Hasse; and Handel's hard words about Gluck: "He knows no more of counterpoint than my cook!" – not to record other such gossip which is rather scandalous. Being reminded of these musical discords, it is all the more agreeable to remember the sincerity with which many of our great musicians have acknowledged the merits of their compeers. Haydn's esteem for Mozart was only equalled by Mozart's esteem for Haydn. Beethoven's high appreciation of Cherubini is notorious. Likewise, Schubert's admiration of Beethoven. But it is unnecessary here to point out instances of the kind.
Musical amateurs often evince a preference for a certain composer merely because they have accidentally become more familiar with his works than with those of other composers. No wonder that in their literary productions referring to music they should have largely contributed to the curiosities. In noticing here M. Victor Schœlcher's 'Life of Handel,' it is with sincere esteem for his enthusiasm and perseverance, which enabled him to collect interesting information respecting the great composer. However, in order to write the 'Life of Handel' it is not sufficient to be an enthusiastic admirer of his works. One must be well acquainted with the musicians contemporary with the great composer, and with the stage of progress of the art at the time when the little boy Handel took his initiatory lessons. One must also have practical experience in musical composition. The following opinion expressed in the work alluded to may serve as an example of a literary curiosity from a musical amateur: – "When a great artist like Handel is accused of theft, the proofs should be exhibited openly… These pretended thefts are nothing but accidental resemblances, fugitive, and quite involuntary… If Dr. Crotch is to be believed, Handel was never anything but a plagiarist, who passed his life in seeking ideas out of every corner!" and so on. Now, it is a well-known fact that Handel did in several instances make use of the compositions of others. But, no discerning biographer would for this reason regard him as a thief. The really musical inquirer would find it interesting to examine carefully how the great composer has treated and ennobled ideas emanating from others.
An autobiography of a celebrated musician may be instructive, if the author possesses the moral courage to record candidly what he has thought and felt. He must tell the truth, and nothing but the truth. How seldom is this the case! Be it from a praiseworthy consideration for others, or perhaps from personal vanity, statements of committed mistakes, unsuccessful struggles, and such like facts, are often omitted or gilded over. The letters of celebrated musicians, published after their death by their friends, are generally so much polished, and sentences thought to be injurious to the reputation of the great artist so carefully expunged, that we obtain only occasionally a glimpse at the real life of the man. Perhaps the most amiable, but also the weakest publications of this kind are generally the biographical notices which have been edited by the widow of a celebrated musician. To note one instance: 'Spohr's Autobiography' is interesting, although it is somewhat tinged with self-complacency. After Spohr's death his widow published the Autobiography, supplementing it with laudatory remarks such as the following: —
"During the last few years of his life he often expressed his conviction that there must certainly be music in Heaven, although it might be very different from our own music. When his wife replied with all her heart: 'Yes, perhaps different; but more beautiful than yours it cannot be!' – Then, a smile of happy contentment and blissful hope spread over his face."41
The musician acquainted with the frequent repetitions in Spohr's works of certain modulations and mannerisms in favour with the composer, may well be excused if he shudders at the thought that he should have to listen to them eternally.
Let us now direct our attention for a moment to books relating to musical controversy. The reader is probably aware of the dispute occasioned by Gluck and Piccini, in France, towards the end of the last century, and of the large number of pamphlets which it caused to be published, including some which were written by the most distinguished thinkers of the time. The dispute concerning the genuineness of Mozart's Requiem likewise supplies some curious specimens of musical literature. The paper-war commenced with an article by Gottfried Weber, published in the musical journal 'Cæcilia,' in the year 1825. The gauntlet thrown down was taken up, in the same year, by the Abbé Stadler. After this beginning of the controversy, other champions, pro and contra, made their appearance; and the quarrel, conducted not entirely without personal insult, soon grew to be as formidable as the fray between the Montagues and the Capulets, – when, fortunately for the sake of concord, Mozart's MS. score of the Requiem was discovered, and revealed which portions of the work had been committed to paper by himself, and which were written after his death by his instructed disciple, Süssmayr.
Another controversy of a peculiar kind, in which many musicians took part, and upon which several dissertations were published, originated in a violent attack by Giovanni Spataro upon Franchino Gafori, in the beginning of the sixteenth century. An account of this dispute, which related to some theoretical questions, is given in Hawkins's 'History of Music,' London, 1776, Vol. II., p. 335. As regards the style of language of the combatants, it reminds us more of fists and clubs than of needle-guns; but this is only what might be expected.
Again, as regards the learned inquiries respecting the origin and use of music, some curious treatises may be noticed.
The opinion that man learnt the art of music from the songs of birds is very old, and was already held by the Roman poet Lucretius, nearly a century before our Christian era. Guido Casoni, in his 'Della Magia d'Amore,' Venice, 1596, finds the origin of music in Love. J. C. Ammon, a German clergyman, wrote in the year 1746, an essay entitled 'Gründlicher Beweis dass im ewigen Leben wirklich eine vortreffliche Musik sei' ('A Clear Proof that there is in Eternal Life really excellent Music'). Also Mattheson, of whose literary productions more than one might be classed with the curiosities, wrote circumstantially about the music in Heaven. A book of his on the subject, published in the year 1747, bears the title – 'Behauptung der himmlischen Musik aus den Gründen der Vernunft, Kirchen-Lehre, und Heiligen Schrift' ('An Assertion that there is Music in Heaven, proved from conclusions of reason, from the teaching of the Church, and from Holy Scripture'). Latrobe, in his treatise entitled 'The Music of the Church,' London, 1831, settles this question by citing passages from the Revelation; for instance, the nature of the instrumental accompaniments to the vocal music in Heaven, is in his opinion clearly revealed by the passage "Harpers harping upon their harps." (Rev. XIV., 2).
The erroneous conjecture, that the art of music suggested itself originally to man, from his hearing the various sounds in nature, instead of being innate in him, has been entertained by several writers. Suffice it to notice two books on this hypothesis, written in the present century: 'The Music of Nature; or an attempt to prove that what is passionate and pleasing in the art of singing, speaking, and performing upon musical instruments, is derived from the sounds of the Animated World,' by William Gardiner; London, 1832. 'La Harpe d'Eole et la musique cosmique; études sur les rapports des phénomènes sonores de la nature avec la science et l'art;' par J. G. Kastner; Paris, 1856. – Kastner is the author of several musical treatises which might be enumerated with the literary curiosities.
Feyoo y Montenegro, a Spanish ecclesiastic, about the middle of the eighteenth century, wrote a dissertation, the title of which, translated into English, is: 'The Delights of Music accompanied by Virtue are upon Earth the foretaste of Heaven.' By way of contrast to this may be noticed Francesco Bocchi's 'Discorso sopra la Musica,' Florence, 1580, in which the learned author maintains that music is injurious to morals and good manners. Vicesimus Knox, in his 'Essays moral and literary,' London, 1778, recommends the acquirement of musical accomplishments as a means of protecting oneself in old age from contempt and neglect.
The oddities of the following English works are sufficiently indicated by their titles: – 'The Schoole of Abuse conteining a pleasaunt Inuective against Poetes, Pipers, Plaiers, Jesters, and such like Caterpillers of a Commonwelth,' by Stephen Gosson; London, 1579. 'Histrio-mastic; The Player's Scovrge, or Actors' Tragedie,' by William Prynne; London, 1633. For the publication of this work, which contains a satire against vocal music, the author was condemned by King Charles I. to have his ears cut off, and to stand in the pillory.
Curious specimens of English treatises on sacred music are: – 'A Treatise concerning the lawfulness of Instrumental Musick in Holy Offices,' by Henry Dodwell. Second edition; London, 1700. 'The Temple Musick; or an Essay concerning the Method of Singing the Psalms of David, in the Temple, before the Babylonish Captivity,' by Arthur Bedford; London, 1706. 'The Great Abuse of Musick,' by Arthur Bedford, London, 1711.