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In the old Lichtenthal quarter of the
city of Vienna, in the vicinity of
the fortifications, there still stands an old house. It is evidently a
public house, for there hangs the sign—"At the Red Crab." Beside this
there is a marble tablet fastened above the doorway, which says that
Franz
Schubert was born in this house. At the right of his name is placed a
lyre
crowned with a star, and at the left a laurel wreath within which is
placed
the date, January 31, 1797.
This then was the birthplace of the
"most poetical composer who ever
lived," as Liszt said of him; the man who created over six hundred
songs,
eight symphonies, operas, masses, chamber works and much beautiful
piano
music, and yet only lived to be thirty-one. It is almost unbelievable.
Let
us get a nearer view of this remarkable musician.
His father kept a school here; there
were five children, four boys and
a girl to provide for, and as there was nothing to depend on but
the school-master's pay, it is easy to see the family was in poor
circumstances, though the wife managed most carefully to make ends
meet.
They were a very devoted family altogether. Little Franz early showed a
decided fondness for music, and tried to pick out bits of tunes of his
own
by ear on an old dilapidated piano the family possessed. He made
friends
with a young apprentice who took him sometimes to a piano wareroom in
the
city, where he was allowed to play his little tunes on a fine piano.
When Franz was seven he began to have
music lessons at home, the father
teaching him violin and his big brother Ignaz, the piano. Franz, in his
eagerness to learn soon outstripped his home teachers, and told them he
could go on alone. It was then decided he should go to the parish choir
master, Holzer, to learn piano, violin, organ, singing and thorough
bass.
Soon Holzer was astonished at the boy's progress. "Whenever I begin to
teach him anything I find he knows it already; I never had such a pupil
before." By the time Franz was eleven, his voice had come out so well
that
he was given the place of head soprano in the parish church, and played
violin solos whenever they occurred in the service. He had even begun
at
home to compose and write down little piano pieces and songs. The
parents
considered that this remarkable talent should be cultivated further, if
possible, in order that it might assist the slender purse of the
family.
There was a choir school, called the Convict, which trained its boys
for
the Imperial Chapel. If Franz could prove his ability to enter this
school,
he would receive free education in return for his services.
One fine morning in October, 1808, Franz
in his homespun grey suit,
spectacles shielding his bright, near-sighted eyes, his bushy black
hair
covered by an old fashioned hat, presented himself for examination by
the
Court Capellmeister and the singing master. The other boys jeered at
his
odd appearance, but he kept his good humor. When his turn came to sing,
after solving all the problems given, his singing of the trial pieces
was
so astonishing that he was passed in at once, and ordered to put on the
uniform of the imperial choristers.
The boy soon found plenty to fill his
time and occupy his mind. There
was
the school orchestra, in which he was able to take a prominent place.
There
was daily practise, in which the boys learned the overtures and
symphonies
of Mozart and Haydn, and even Beethoven. He loved best Mozart's
"Symphony
in G minor," in which he said he heard angels singing. The leader of
the
orchestra was attracted to the lad's playing the very first day he
entered,
for he played with such precision and understanding. One day Franz
mustered
courage to talk a little to the big conductor, whose name was Spaun,
and
confessed he had composed quite a good deal already, adding he would
like
to do it every day, only he could not afford to get the music paper.
Spaun
received this burst of confidence with sympathy, and saw to it that the
boy
was, in the future, supplied with the necessary music paper.
Franz had soon made such progress on the
violin, that he began to take
the
first violin parts and when the conductor was absent he was asked to
lead
the orchestra. Indeed by his deep earnestness and sincerity, as well as
ability, the gifted boy had become a power in the school. When he went
home
to see his people, which could only be on Sundays and holidays, it was
a
happy reunion for all. If he brought home a new string quartet, the
father
would get out his 'cello, Ignaz and Ferdinand would take first and
second
violins and the young composer the viola. After it had been played
through,
then all the players discussed it and offered their criticism. Indeed
Franz
was composing at such an astonishing rate, that it was difficult to
keep
him supplied with music paper. One of his works of this time was a
fantasia
for four hands, in twelve movements. Then came a first attempt at song
writing, a long affair which also contained twelve movements, and was
in
melancholy mood.
Five years the boy Franz Schubert
remained at the Convict School and as
he
had decided to give himself entirely to music, there was no reason for
his
remaining longer in the school. At the end of the year 1813, he left,
and
his departure was celebrated by the composition of his first Symphony,
in
honor of Dr. Lang, the musical director. The lad, now seventeen, stood
at
the beginning of his career; he was full of hope and energy, and
determined
to follow in the footsteps of the great masters of music. Of all his
compositions so far produced, his songs seemed to be the most
spontaneous.
He probably did not guess that he was to open up new paths in this
field.
Hardly had he left the school when he
was drafted for the army. This
meant
several years of virtual captivity, for conscription could not be
avoided.
The only other thing he could do was to return home and become a
teacher
in his father's school. He chose the lesser evil and qualified at once
to
become his father's assistant, which would also assure him a certain
amount
of leisure. We can imagine him installed as teacher of the infant
class,
and realize how distasteful was the daily round of school work, and how
he
longed to have it over, that he might put on paper all the lovely
themes
that had come to him through the school day. Other bright spots were
the
happy hours he spent with the Grob family, who lived also in the
district
of Lichtenthal. The family consisted of a mother, a son and daughter.
They
were all musical. Therese Grob had a fine voice and she enjoyed the
songs
Schubert brought her to sing, while her brother Heinrich could play
both
piano and 'cello. Many evenings filled with music were passed by the
young
people. His friends at the Convict too, welcomed each new piece he
wrote.
Nor did he forget his old master Holzer, the organist of the little
church
where the composer himself regularly attended. During 1814, Schubert
composed his first mass, which was performed October 16. It excited so
much
interest that it was repeated ten days later at the Augustine church.
Franz
conducted, the choir was led by Holzer, Ferdinand sat at the organ, and
Therese sang the soprano solos. In the audience sat old Salieri, Court
Capellmeister of Vienna, with whom Beethoven had studied. Salieri
praised
Schubert for his work, and said that he should become his pupil. He
kept
his word and gave the young composer daily lessons for some time. The
father was so proud and happy that he bought a five octave piano for
his
boy, to celebrate the event.
Schubert added many compositions to his
list this year, among them
seventeen songs, including "Gretchen at the Spinning Wheel." His
acquaintance with the poet Johann Mayrhofer, with whom he soon became
intimate, was of benefit to both. The poet produced verses that his
friend
might set to music. The following year, 1815, he wrote a hundred and
thirty-seven songs, to say nothing of six operas, and much music for
church
and piano. Twenty-nine of these songs were written in the month of
August.
One day in August eight songs were created; on another day seven. Some
of the songs were quite long, making between twenty and thirty pages
when
printed.
A new friend came into Schubert's life
the next year. His name was
Franz
Schober, and he intended entering the University in Vienna. Being a
great
lover of music and also familiar with some of Schubert's manuscript
songs,
he lost no time, on arriving in Vienna, in seeking out the composer. He
found the young musician at his desk very busily writing. School work
was
over for the day, and he could compose in peace. The two young men
became
friends at once, for they felt the sympathetic bond between them. They
were
soon talking as though they had always known each other. In a few words
Schubert told his new friend how he was situated at home, and how he
disliked the daily drudgery of school teaching. On hearing of these
trials
Schober suggested they should make a home together, which arrangement
would
free the composer from the grinding life he was living and enable him
to give his whole time to his art. The proposal delighted Franz, and
the
father willingly gave his consent. And so it came about that the
composer
was free at last, and took up his abode at his friend's lodgings. He
insisted on giving him musical instruction, to make some return for all
his
kindness, though this did not last long, owing to the dislike Franz
always
had for teaching of any sort.
Schubert, at the age of twenty-four, had
composed a great quantity of
music, but none of it had as yet been published. He was almost unknown,
and
publishers were unwilling to undertake issuing the work of an unknown
man.
When his songs were performed by good artists, as had been done a
number of
times, they won instant recognition and success. Seeing that the
publishers
were unwilling to print the work of an unknown musician, two of
Schubert's
friends undertook to publish the "Erlking," one of his first songs, at
their own risk. At the Sonnleithner mansion, where musicals were
regularly
held, the "Erlking" had been much applauded, and when it was decided to
have it published, the decision was announced. A hundred copies were at
once subscribed for, and with this encouragement the engraving of the
"Erlking" and "Gretchen at the Spinning Wheel" was forthwith begun. The
pieces were sold by the music publishers on commission. The plan
succeeded
beyond expectation, so that other songs were issued in the same way,
until,
when seven had appeared the publishers were willing to risk the
engraving
of other songs themselves. Before all this had taken place, Johann
Vogl,
an admired opera singer in Vienna at the time, had learned Schubert's
"Erlking," and had sung it in March, 1821, at a public concert
patronized
by royalty. The song was received with storms of applause. Schober, who
knew the singer, constantly talked to him about the gifts of his friend
and begged him to come and see Schubert. At last one day he consented.
They
found the composer hard at work as usual, music sheets covering the
floor
as well as the table and chair. Vogl, used to the highest society, made
himself quite at home and did his best to put Schubert at his ease, but
the composer remained shy and confused. The singer began looking over
some manuscripts. When he left he shook Schubert's hand warmly,
remarking;
"There is stuff in you, but you squander your fine thoughts instead of
making the most of them."
Vogl had been much impressed by what he
had seen that day, and repeated
his visit. Before long the two were close friends. Schubert wrote to
his
brother: "When Vogl sings and I accompany him, we seem for the moment
to
be one." Vogl wrote of Schubert's songs that they were "truly divine
inspirations."
Schubert's residence with his friend
Schober only lasted six months,
for
Schober's brother came to live with him, and the composer had to shift
for
himself. Teaching was exceedingly distasteful to him, yet as his music
did
not bring in anything for years after he left home, he had to find some
means of making a living. In these straits he accepted a position as
music
teacher in the family of Count Johann Esterházy. This meant that
he must
live with the family in their Vienna home in winter, and go with them
to
their country seat in the summer. The change from the free life he had
enjoyed with his friends who idolized him and his beautiful music, to
the
etiquette of aristocratic life, was great. But there were many comforts
amid his new surroundings; the family was musical, the duties were not
heavy, and so Schubert was not unhappy.
At the Esterházy country estate
of Zelész, he heard many
Hungarian melodies
sung or played by the gipsies, or by servants in the castle. He has
employed some of these tunes in his first set of Valses. In his present
position he had much leisure for composition. Indeed Franz Schubert's
whole
life was spent in giving out the vast treasures of melody with which he
had
been so richly endowed. These flowed from his pen in a constant stream,
one
beautiful work after another. He wrote them down wherever he happened
to be
and when a scrap of paper could be had. The exquisite song "Hark, Hark
the
Lark" was jotted down on the back of a bill of fare, in a beer garden.
The
beautiful works which he produced day after day brought him little or
no
money, perhaps because he was so modest and retiring, modestly
undervaluing
everything he did. He had no desire to push himself, but wrote because
impelled to by the urge within. So little did he sometimes value his
work
that a fine composition would be tucked away somewhere and quite
forgotten.
His physical strength was not robust enough to stand the strain of
constant
composition. Then too, when funds were very low, as they often were, he
took poor lodgings, and denied himself the necessary nourishing food.
If he
could have had a dear companion to look after his material needs and
share
his aims and aspirations, his earthly life might have been prolonged
for
many a year. With no one to advise him, and often pressed with hunger
and
poverty, he was induced to sell the copyrights of twelve of his best
songs,
including the "Erlking" and the "Wanderer," for a sum equal to about
four
hundred dollars. It is said the publishers made on the "Wanderer"
alone, up
to the year 1861, a sum of about five thousand five hundred dollars. It
is
true that "everything he touched turned to music," as Schumann once
said of
him. The hours of sleep were more and more curtailed, for he wrote late
at night and rose early the next day. It is even said he slept in his
spectacles, to save the trouble and time of putting them on in the
morning.
In Schubert's boyhood, the music of
Mozart influenced him most. This is
seen in his earlier compositions. Beethoven was a great master to him
then,
but as time went on the spell of his music always grew stronger. In
1822,
he wrote and published a set of variations on a French air, and
dedicated
them to Beethoven. He greatly desired to present them in person to the
master he adored, but was too shy to go alone. Diabelli, the publisher,
finally went with him. Beethoven was courteous but formal, pushing
paper
and pencil toward his guest, as he was totally deaf. Schubert was too
shy to write a single word. However he produced his Variations.
Beethoven
seemed pleased with the dedication, and looked through the music. Soon
he
found something in it he did not approve of and pointed it out. The
young
author, losing his presence of mind, fled from the house. But Beethoven
really liked the music and often played it to his nephew.
Five years later, during his last
illness, a collection of some sixty
of
Schubert's songs was placed in his hands. He turned them over and over
with
amazement and delight. "Truly Schubert has the divine fire," he
exclaimed.
He wanted to see the composer of such beautiful music. Schubert came
and
was allowed to have a talk with him first, before other friends who
were
waiting. When Schubert paid another visit to the bedside of the master,
it was almost the end of his life, though he could recognize all who
stood
about him. Overcome with emotion, Schubert left the room.
A couple of weeks after this Schubert
was one of the torch bearers who
accompanied the great master to the last resting place. Little did the
young man of thirty dream that he would soon follow after. His life at
this
time was full of disappointments. He had always longed to write for the
lyric stage. He composed numerous operas; but they were always
rejected,
for one reason or another. The last, "Fierabras," which was on the
point
of being produced, was finally given up. The composer became very
dejected,
and believed himself to be the most unfortunate, the most miserable
being
on earth. But, fortunately for Schubert, his cheerfulness again
asserted
itself and the stream of production resumed its flow. With his
temperament,
at one moment he would be utterly despairing, the next his troubles
would
seem to be forgotten, and he would be writing a song, a symphony or a
sonata. At all events, constant work filled his days. The last year of
his
life was productive of some of his finest works.
About the end of October, 1828, he began
to show signs of a serious
breakdown. He was living at the home of his brother Ferdinand, in one
of
the suburbs of the city. Although he revived a little during the early
part of November, so that he could resume walks in the neighborhood,
the
weakness increased, and eleven days passed without food or drink.
Lingering
till the nineteenth of November, he passed peacefully away, still in
his
early manhood. The old father, the schoolmaster at the old home, hoped
to
have his son buried in the little cemetery near by. But Ferdinand knew
his brother's wish, to be placed near Beethoven in Währinger
Cemetery. The
monument, erected by his friends and admirers the following year,
bears,
above the name, this inscription:
"Music has here entombed a rich treasure, but much fairer hopes."
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