Jul - 1825-26, On tour, Gmunden Symphony, Scott songs

At the beginning of 1825, Schubert was again resident in his dear Vienna, living as careless a life as ever with the few people whom he admitted to his intimacy. At this time he made the acquaintance of Sofie Müller, who enjoyed some renown as an actress, and was a singer to boot. Schubert and his cronies often visited the lady, the composer taking with him his newest songs for the pleasure of hearing her interpret them. Likely enough he wrote songs for no other purpose, and, if so, we should give thanks that Sofie Müller existed, and had a taste for music. From the artist's diary, published in 1832 we gather the names of some of the works with which she was concerned. Amongst them are that genuine masterpiece the "Young Nun," "Der Einsame" and "Drang in die Ferne." The last gathering at her house took place on March 30, shortly before Schubert started for a holiday amidst the romantic scenery of the Austrian Tyrol.

We are not informed how Schubert found the money for travelling expenses, but it may well be that he needed very little. Once on the scene of his wanderings every house was opened to him, and as the singer Vogl was his companion it is not likely that the cost of moving from place to place troubled him much. Be this as it may, our composer found himself at Steyr, Vogl's birthplace, some time in April. From that town the friends made excursions to various places within reach. "When summer began," writesKreissle, "the two artists, like wandering minstrels, started forth on their beautiful country expedition, bent on making at one time a stately convent, at another a city or town, ring with their already famous lays. They made considerable halts at Linz and Gmunden, and again at the proper starting point of their wanderings - Vogl's birthplace. Everywhere they fell in with friends and acquaintances, who received them with open arms. The still living witnesses of these days of Schubert's wanderings talk with delight of the happy hours they passed in the society of the unassuming and, at that time, happy and cheerful Schubert."One loves to think about, and sympathise with, the composer's delightful experience during this tour. To him came so few moments of life's sunshine, that the pleasure his journey gave him seems, as we dwell upon it, to find its own reflection in ourselves, especially when we consider that, if there be any truth in the theory of nature's compensation, his delight must have been intense indeed - the crowding into a few weeks of enjoyment that which with most people is spread over years. We learn incidentally that he was far too busy with his new friends to think much of those at home, and it is like the careless Schubert to be told by his father in a letter:- "I, as well as all your belongings, am surprised at your not letting us hear anything of you." He wrote to nobody, as far as can be ascertained, till.July 21, when he communicated with his friend Spaun, whom he had hoped to find at Linz, but did not. We can judge of his high spirits from the opening sentences of the letter:- "You may well imagine my uncommon vexation in being obliged in Linz to write to you in Lemberg. Deuce take that abominable duty which separates friends from one another, when they had scarce sipped the cup of friendship. Here, I am sitting still in Linz, half dead with the melting heat and in perspiration. I have a whole number of new songs, and you are not here! Are you not ashamed? Linz without you is a body without a soul, a rider without a head, broth without salt. If I didn't get good beer at Jägermaier's and decent wine at the Schlossberg, I would go and hang myself on the parade out of grief for the soul of the Linzers, which has taken wing and flown away."

Further on he says: "For the rest, don't let your hair grow grey with misery at being so far away from us. Brave the simple fate, let your gentle spirit expand like a flower, that you may diffuse the warmth of life in the cold north, and show your divine origin wherever you go." Then he adds a pompous aphorism akin to those already quoted from his diary: "Contemptible is the grief which stealthily creeps upon a noble heart; cast it away from you, and tear to pieces the vulture which is gnawing at your heart."

On July 25 Schubert found time to send off a letter to his parents. He began it with a confession of sin: "I admit the justice of your rebuke at my long silence," and went on to a lame excuse: "But as I am averse to writing mere empty words, and the present time with me offers but little of interest, you will forgive me if I have kept all news of myself from you until after the receipt of your affectionate letter." Once with pen in hand Schubert writes at length, and we get a detailed account of his experiences, mixed up with which are some allusions to his setting of the songs in Scott's "Lady of the Lake":- "My new songs out of Walter Scott's 'Lady of the Lake' were very warmly approved. My audience expressed great delight at the solemnity of my Hymn to the Blessed Virgin ('Ave Maria'); it seems to have infected the minds of listeners. I believe I have attained this result by never forcing on myself religious ecstasy, and never setting myself to compose such hymns or prayers except when I am involuntarily overcome by the feeling and spirit of devotion, in that case devotion is usually of the right and genuine kind." After this very interesting glimpse of Schubert's higher method, we find further reference to the songs, in which the name of England occurs:- "I intend to have some other arrangement as to the publication of these songs, the present one inviting so little attention. They must have the illustrious name of Scott on the title-page, and thus make people more curious; with the addition of the English text they might help to make me better known in England, if only once I could make some fair terms with publishers, but in that matter the wise and beneficent management of the Government has taken care that the artist shall remain for ever the slave of miserable hucksters." The letter contains a remark upon criticism which may also be worth transcribing. It arose out of a favourable notice of one of Schubert's works in some journal, and runs thus: I should like to have examined the review myself, to see if there was anything to be learned from it, for, however favourable the criticism may be the whole thing may be simply ridiculous if the reviewer, as is often the case, has not the proper understanding and capacity for reviewing." Thus did Schubert properly distinguish between unintelligent praise and that which comes from a man having connaisance de cause. Most artists, we should say, recognise the difference, but very few are bold enough and frank enough to say so openly. They take laudation all round with equal appetite, for fear of giving offence. Next in this fruitful letter we find a hit at a certain school of pianoforte players, since largely developed and now making pretensions, supported by a silly public, to be the only school. Speaking about certain of his own pieces, he remarks "These I played alone, and not without success, for some assured me that the keys under my hands sounded like singing voices, which, if it be true, is a delightful compliment, as I cannot endure the execrable pounding peculiar to even distinguished pianoforte players - it neither tickles the ear nor moves the feelings." Another citation and we have done with the letter. The master speaks of "the divine lakes and mountains " which so impressed his imagination, and lets it be seen that Nature, in her grand and beautiful manifestations, has given him both comfort and strength. It is with him "a great happiness to be restored anew to life, strength, and energy."

Later on (September 12) Schubert addressed a long letter to his brother, Ferdinand, in which he gives an animated description of his journey from Steyr to Salzburg. The exordium of this epistle contains a modest depreciation of the writer's descriptive power, but Schubert had a fair share of the quality in question, and could really express himself very well. Take the following as a specimen:- "From Neumarkt, which is the last stage before Salzburg, one gets the first glimpse of the snowcovered tops of mountains emerging from the Salzburg valley. About an hour from Nuemarkt the country is exceedingly beautiful- The Waler-See, which pours forth its clear bluish-green water, lights up this fair scene in an enchanting way. The situation is very lofty, and from that point one goes by a constant descent as far as Salzburg. The mountains appear higher and higher; the Untersburg, with its ghosts and legends, particularly peers above the rest like magic. The villages show signs of the wealth of former days. In the commonest peasant's houses one finds on all sides marble window and door ledges, sometimes even staircases of red marble. The sun darkens, and the gloomy clouds lower over the black mountains like children of themist; but they touch not the peak of the Untersburg - theyglide past as though afraid of its dreadful tenants. The far-off valley, which is studded with isolated castles, churches, and peasants' huts, becomes plainer and plainer to the enchanted eye. Towers and palaces gradually appear; at last one drives by the Kapuzinerberg, where the mighty rampart of rock rises perpendicularly from the roadside, and looks grimly down upon the wayfarer. The Untersberg, with its attendant mountains, becomes gigantic; its majesty seems almost to crush us. And now our road lies through some beautiful avenues to the town itself."

The truth of this picture is instantly recognised by those who know the road, and the character of it suggests that Schubert had been reading Walter Scott's descriptions of scenery with as much attention as he devoted to his lyrics. Our master goes on to tell about the town, the kind reception he and Vogl met with there, and so on. Presently comes a reference to Michael Haydn:-

"From the cathedral we went to the monastery of St.Peter, where Michael Haydn resided. The church here is also wonderfully beautiful. Here, as you know, is the monument of M. Haydn. It is very fine, but badly placed in an obscure out of the way corner.... Haydn's head is enclosed in an urn. I thought to myself, May thy pure and peaceful spirit hover around me, dear Haydn; and if I never can become like thee, peaceful and guileless, at all events none on earth have such deep reverence for thee as I have. sad tears fell from my eyes, and we went on."

But not a word about Mozart - the presiding genius of the place. Schubert avoids even mentioning his name. Strange omission! One supposes that he could hardly have thought of anybody else, and is puzzled by this inexplicable silence.

A second letter (September 21) describes the journey from Salzburg to Hallein, "a remarkable town, but uncommonly dirty and dismal," where all the inhabitants "look like ghosts," and are "thin enough to make tapers of." Then on through the Pass of Lueg, famous for a desperate fight between the Bavarians and the Tyrolese. A red cross commemorates the battle, and at sight of it Schubert breaks out into rhapsody, "O glorious Christ, how many wicked deeds must Thy sacred image appear to sanction! Thou Thyself, the cruellest memorial of human guilt, men set up. Thy image as though they would say, Lo, with insolent feet we have trampled upon the most perfect creation of the great God; should we feel compunction of heart in annihilating that noxious insect called man? "Finally the travellers regained Steyr where Schubert found a letter from his friend Bauernfeld, regarding domestic arrangements for the approaching winter in Vienna, and saluting him with a decided personality: "How fares it with thee, fattest of friends? I declare I believe your stomach is a size larger. Heaven keep it and bless it!" Schubert replied in a style of equal freedom mentioning the early days of October as the probable date of his return. So it turned out. Vogl went off into Italy, Schubert made for Linz, and there encountered a friend, Gatry, with whom he hired a one-horse carriage and drove back to the capital, rich in comparative health and spirits, but almost as poor in pocket as the beggars on the road. His first care in Vienna was to sell the "Lady of the Lake" songs - for 200 gulden or £20! - and repay the friends who had, in his absence, kept matters square with his landlord.

Schubert did not allow his pen to remain idle all the time he was away. He composed several songs and is said to have completed the Grand Symphony which should stand between the B minor fragment and the C major. Sir George Grove says: "But the great work of this date was the Grand Symphony, whch had been before him so long. We found him eighteen months ago writing quartets and the octet as preparation for it, and an allusion in a letter of Schwind's shows that at the beginning of August he spoke of the thing as virtually done. That it was actually put on to paper at Gastein at this date we know from the testimony of Bauernfeld, who also informs us that it was a special favourite with its composer." There can hardly be a doubt that Schubert was engaged during 1825 upon some such work. So much is proved by the references to it cited by Sir G Grove. But one of the strangest incidents in musical history is its utter disappearance. While numberless smaller compositions have survived all vicissiyudes, and well-nigh every work of the master is accounted for, the "Gastein Symphony" has vanished as completely as those Central Asian rivers which desert sands absorb. We do not even know its key and Dr. Kreissle has not more than a word to say even about its supposed existence at any time. To make these facts the more remarkable, the history of the work can be traced as far as September, 1826, when a member of the Austrian Musical Society conveyed to his brethren Schubert's desire to dedicate to them a symphony, and when the Society voted him £10 as a mark of good will, Schubert it is said deposited the manuscript at the Society's rooms, along with a letter running thus:-

"To the Committee of the Austrian Musical Society. - Convinced of the noble desire of the Society to give its best support to every effort in the cause of art, I venture, as a native artist, to dedicate this my symphony to the Society, and most respectfully to recommend myself to its protection. With the highest esteem, - Your obedient, Franz Schubert."

Now comes the strangest part of this most curious story. Here we see a great musical work pass into the hands of a Society which has shown practical sympathy with the composer, yet no record exists of its rehearsal, no one remembers that it was ever tried, and the catalogue of the Society's library may be searched in vain for any trace of it. Sir G. Grove truly says that "except for the minute and letter given above, and the positive statements of Bauernfeld quoted below, it might as well be non-existent." In presence of such a mystery as this, the mind casts about for a probable explanation. It is piqued by the puzzle and almost resents it. Now then, what explanation seems most probable? Obviously that the Gastein Symphony and the Symphony in C are, in their origin, one and the same. It is at least conceivable that the Musical Society found the Gastein work either not to their taste or not within their means (we know that the "C major" was voted impracticable), and that Schubert took it back for revision, which, in his careless way, he did not immediately set about. This speculation is somewhat strengthened by circumstances connected with the autograph of the "C major." The MS. in question contains many emendations, unusual with Schubert, but such as a man, having once entered upon revisions, might go on making. Moreover, in the Scherzo are sixteen bars taken from the octet, which, as we have seen, was written as a preparatory study for a grand symphony. Further, Sir G. Grove tells us that the autograph score is no rough copy; there are no traces of sketches or preparation, "the music has gone straight on to the paper without any intervention" - features which one would look for in the case of a revised edition of an already existing work. Documentary evidence tending to show that the "Gastein" and the "C major" are distinct compositions is found only in an article written by Bauernfeld for a Vienna journal after Schubert's death. There the master's , friend says: "To the larger works of his latter years also belongs a symphony written in 1825 at Gastein, for which its author had an especial predilection.... At a great concert given by the Musical Society shortly after his death, a Symphony in C was performed which was composed as early as 1817 (1818), and which he considered as one of his less successful works. Perhaps the Society intends at some future time to make us acquainted with one of the later symphonies, possibly the Gastein one already mentioned." It is clear from this that Bauernfeld supposed the MS. of the "Gastein" to be in the Society's possession. But if that were so, why, at a kind of commemorative concert, was it not performed?

A work specially dedicated to the Society by the dead author would surely have had infinitely greater claims than one of an earlier date and smaller pretensions. The inference is that the MS. had passed out of the Society's hands, and possibly back into those of the composer. In his catalogue of Schubert's works Bauernfeld makes two entries, as follows: "1825, Grand Symphony... 1828, Last Symphony." Clearly, therefore he believed that each was an independent work; but it is pretty evident, also, that Bauernfeld knew very little about either. There is nothing whatever in his testimony to show that his knowledge on the subject was not of the very vaguest kind. We here put forward the identity in origin of the "Gastein" and the "C major" simply as a speculation, which cannot well be a basis of belief. But it seems to us the only way out of a difficulty that, apart from it, presents an almost inconceivable concatenation of circumstances. Sir George Grove whose research cannot be too highly praised, so far adopts the theory of a distinct existence for the "Gastein" that he styles the C major "No. 10,'' instead of No. 9, but a faint suspicion seems to linger in his mind, otherwise he would have used more positive language than the following: "That it is an entirely distinct work from that in C, written two and a-half years later, can hardly admit of a doubt. " That which hardly admits doubt is not absolutely barred against it.

Of Schubert's doings between the date of his return to Vienna and the close of 1825, very little can be gleaned. He may have given himself up to the delights of friendship; consorting with that odd little company of intimates to whom the reader has already been introduced, and writing songs for their delectation as well as, incidentally, for a living. At any rate, the compositions of the year make a respectable total, and include twenty-three songs, as well as the pianoforte Sonatas in A minor, D major, and A major; and the Funeral March, à quatre mains, on the death of the Emperor Alexander. "It is also more than probable," says Sir G. Grove, "that the String Quartet in D minor was begun before the end of the year."

In 1826 Schubert had several chances of settling down to regular employment. We find one mentioned, as in prospect, by his friend Schwind, who, writing to the master, then in upper Austria, said:-

"Worschizek; (Imperial Court Organist) is on his last legs, and there will be a serious agitation on the question of the Court organistship. As far as I can learn, the successful man will be he who can best acquit himself as an extemporaneous performer on a given subject. At Gmunden you will have an organ at your service to practise on."

Worschizek died shortly after this letter was written (November, 1825), but we hear nothing of our master's candidature for the empty seat. Six months earlier another Court musician, Salieri, had passed away; his place being taken by Eybler, whose promotion left vacant the post of Vice-Capellmeister. This position Schubert coveted, as we know from his own lips, and in due course he joined the running for it, in company with seven others, namely, Seyfried, Girowetz, Kreutzer, Hoffmann, Hüttenbrenner, Würfel, and Glaser. Previously to this, the dignity had been offered to Wittasek, who declined it on account of age and infirmity. Umlauff was also proposed for the place, but ultimately it became a matter of competition, as we have just seen. All the candidates were spoken of by the Hofmusikgraf in his report to superior authority as "men of merit; each and all having claims, more or less worthy of consideration." With regard to Schubert personally these words were used: "Schubert appeals to his services as Court singer, confirmed by a testimonial of Salieri, who taught him composition, and vouches for the fact of his having composed five Masses, which have been used in several churches." In disposing of the appointment the Emperor passed over all the eight men above named, and gave it to Josef Weigl, Capellmeister at the Court Theatre, thus leaving poor Schubert out in the cold. When informed of his bad luck, the master said: "I should have much liked to receive that appointment, but I must feel satisfied in its having been bestowed upon so worthy a man as Weigl." In this spirit of philosophic resignation he went back to writing songs which, while they enriched the publishers, barely enabled him to live.

Another delusive prospect opened before Schubert at this time, and was lost, if we may credit Anton Schindler, through his own obstinacy and utter want of wordly wisdom. Herr Krebs (father of Marie Krebs, the now well-known pianist) having removed to Hamburg, his post of conductor at the Kärnthnerthor Theatre became vacant, and Schubert so far became the favoured candidate as to be taken on trial - that is to say, his appointment depended upon the successful setting of some operatic scenes. When rehearslng these, the soprano, Schechner, objected to certain features in one of her airs, and begged their modification. Schubert refused, and the result was that, at the general rehearsal, the lady broke down. Let Schindler continue the story: -

"There was a deep silence throughout the house, and consternation on every face. Whilst this was going an, Duport, the manager, was seen advancing now to one group, now to another or talking mysteriosly to the prima donna or the Cappelmeisters who were present. As for Schubert, he sat during a scene painful to everyone who witnessed it, like a marble figure, fixed to his chair, with his eyes rivetted upon the pages of the score lying open before him. At last, after a long pause, Duport stepped in front of the orchestra and said, in a very polite tone: 'Herr Schubert, we. should like to put off the performance for some days and I must ask you to make the necessary alterations in the scena, at all events, and to make it an easier matter for Fräulein Schechner.' Several of the players in the orchestra now exhorted Schubert to give way. Schubert's wrath,-after he had listened to Duport's speach, only grew more intense, and, calling out at the top of his voice, 'I alter nothing,' he shut up the score with a bang, put it under his arm, and walked off home as fast as he could. There was an end to all hope of his appointment."

This is a circumstantial story, and its truth is supported by the fact that Sir George Grove adopts it without question. It is right to mention, on the other hand, that Kreissle takes up a doubtful attitude, urging that Schindler was not unused to drawing the long bow, that the behaviour imputed to Schubert denies his "honest, good tempered manner," and that an eye-witness, then in the orchestra of the theatre, while allowing that the music given to Schechner was beyond her powers, could remember no such scene as that described above. Rather according to this authority, did Schubert behave "in his usual quiet and self-contained manner." We cannot decide between these conflicting statements but are anxious to believe with Kreissle, since Schindler represents our master as guilty of very foolish obstinacy. How could the world go on if it were full of dogged and unyielding resolution on matters of small importance?