The King then led the old master into the room and introduced him to the musicians at their desks, as well as to the gentlemen-in-waiting. He had a pleasant word for each, and showed so little embarrassment in his new surroundings that Philipp Emanuel was greatly surprised. The gentlemen of the Court also were favorably impressed by the old musician, who attracted them all by his simple dignity and ease of manner.
The King looked affectionately at him. “Dear Bach,” he said with genuine tenderness, “I am doubly glad you arrived to-day. Only an hour ago two Silbermann pianos, for which I have long waited, were delivered at the castle, and I would like to have your expert opinion of them. I am aware that you are not an unconditional advocate of the Silbermann technic.”
“I was not at the beginning,” said Bach, modestly. “It would not have been right so long as its mechanism had serious faults; but in the course of years it has been improved by skilful and intelligent men, its faults have been corrected, and now it really is a masterpiece. Your Majesty has made no mistake in getting them.”
“I hope not, I hope not,” said the King; “but now let us look at them. One is in my workroom and the other is in my chamber. Ho, there! Lights! The gentlemen of the chapel are welcome to join us.”
Headed by the King and Bach, they went from one room to another, and Bach tried seven of these pianos, extemporizing so delightfully that the King was lost in admiration. “Splendid! splendid! that was masterly, dear Bach!” he exclaimed several times.
“Your Majesty is too generous,” said the old Cantor. “It does not require much musical ability to show off a piano. I pray you for some more important task than that.”
“Well, well, if you call that of no importance we must try something else. Will you take a theme and construct a fugue and variations upon it?”
“Gladly, Your Majesty, and if you are willing I will use the piano in Your Majesty’s workroom. It is the best of all the instruments.”
“I think so, too. Come in, gentlemen.”
All entered the apartment, eager with expectation, and grouped themselves around the piano. “Now, select a theme, dear Bach, and give us a three-part fugue, if it be not asking too much.”
The old master smiled quietly. “Will not Your Majesty have the goodness to give me the theme?”
“What? I? And you will extemporize a fugue and variations at the same time?”
“If it so please Your Majesty, I will undertake it with God’s help.”
“Well, I must say—but you shall have your way.”
The King went to the piano, stood a moment in thought, and then gracefully and elegantly played this charming theme:
“Does that satisfy you?”
Bach bowed respectfully, seated himself at the instrument, and began extemporizing a prelude of the same character as the theme, and as only he could do it. For some time he developed it beautifully, and then with graceful facility worked up the theme itself, in three parts, with such depth of feeling, richness of conception and harmonic color, and above all with such an absolute mastery of technic, that the musicians held their breath, and the King, standing behind Bach, was transfixed with astonishment.
“Marvellous!” he whispered more than once, and when Bach closed with a contrapuntal masterpiece, the so-called stretto,[47] he exclaimed enthusiastically: “Truly, there is but one Bach!” and embraced the deeply moved master with the affectionate familiarity of a fellow-artist. After this, he said he would retire to enjoy the impression made upon him, but would see Bach again the next day, as he wished to show him the organs in the Potsdam churches and hear him play on them. Bach cheerfully consented, and after making his adieus passed a quiet evening in his own family circle.
The next day, at the appointed hour, the royal carriage stopped at Emanuel’s door, and at the King’s request Friedemann accompanied his father. They were soon at the Church of the Holy Spirit, where the organ was in readiness and the King was awaited. In the meantime the church rapidly filled up with persons of high social standing and Court attendants, and soon the King’s carriage was heard at the door. With a quick step the sovereign entered, hastily greeting those in attendance, and making his way to the organ-loft, where he warmly greeted the master.
“Dear Bach, yesterday you served me a magnificent musical feast, which I greatly enjoyed; but you know the old saying: ‘The appetite grows by what it feeds upon,’ and I am free to say that to-day I am longing to hear a performance such as only you can give us.”
“And what might that be, Your Majesty?”
“A fugue in six parts.”
“Yes, but our theme of yesterday, as Your Majesty well knows, is not adapted to that style of polyphonic treatment. If Your Majesty will graciously choose one that is—”
“No, no, Bach, choose a fitting one yourself; we shall be the gainers thereby.”
“Your Majesty has only to command.”
The King nodded his assent, took a seat a little apart from his retinue, and Bach began.
A majestic prelude rang from the organ in a mighty flood of tone, ever bolder and more triumphant, until, reaching a climax, it gave place to the majestic chorale, “Ich weiss dass mein Erlöser lebt” (“I know that my Redeemer liveth”), which he developed in six parts with a dignity of style and a divine fervor that entranced his hearers. The characteristics of the theme and the accompanying modulations, the freedom and brilliancy of his treatment, the clearness of the composition, and the individuality of the single parts, all combined to make a marvellous performance. The King was so enthusiastic that he embraced the old master, and exclaimed with emotion: “I have heard the utmost of which the divine art is capable! I am glad I have lived to hear it.”
It was an inspiring day for the great musician. His son, Friedemann, also had to play for the King when they came to another church, and was heartily appreciated by the musicians, who could not resist the charm of his talent and performance. Other days not less inspiring followed these. It was a time so full of spiritual comfort and contentment that Bach devoted himself to composition, and produced one great work after another as if he had renewed his youthful power.
The King paid him affectionate attention to the last day of his visit in Potsdam, showed him everything worth seeing and remembering in Berlin, and magnanimously tendered him the highest honors in the royal musical service, which, though with some heaviness of heart, Bach declined out of consideration for his son Emanuel, asking for himself only the continuation of the royal favor and kindness. With sincere emotion the noble sovereign promised this. Bach left Potsdam after many happy weeks, and returned to his disagreeable Leipsic post, with a melancholy presentiment that the King’s promise to have another visit sometime would not be fulfilled.
Chapter VIII
The Last of Earth
It was only natural for the old master, weighed down with official and other burdens in Leipsic, to recall the delightful days in Potsdam and live them over; but the recollection of them was not a mere idle, dreamy revery; all his deeper feelings were so engrossed with the realities of his art that he did not hesitate to respond to its exacting demands. He decided to reset the theme which the King had given him with all the skill of which he was capable. He completed the task in a few weeks. In its new form the work had thirteen numbers, finished with masterly ability. He engraved it upon copper and dedicated it to the King, with the title, “Musical Offering, humbly dedicated to His Majesty, King of Prussia.” He sent it to the King with the following characteristic letter:
“All Gracious King:—Herewith I present to Your Majesty, with deepest respect, a musical offering, the noblest part of which is from your own hand. I recall with the highest pleasure the particular kingly grace with which, during my stay in Potsdam, Your Majesty condescended to give me a theme for a fugue on the piano, and to set me the task of working it out at once in your presence. As a subject, it was my duty to obey Your Majesty’s command. I soon realized, however, that because of lack of necessary preparation, the execution was not up to the standard demanded by such a theme. I then determined, and at once set about it, to work out this royal theme more perfectly, and then give it to the world. I have done this to the extent of my ability, and with no other purpose than the exaltation, though only in one small particular, of the glory of a sovereign who must be admired by all in music, as well as in war and the arts of peace. I make bold to add the following respectful request,—that Your Majesty will deign to honor this small work by graciously accepting it, and continue Your Majesty’s favor to Your Majesty’s most loyal subject and obedient servant,
The Author.
“Leipsic, July 7, 1747.”
While engaged upon this remarkable work, a new joy brightened his home. His daughter Frederica[48] was engaged to Altnikol, one of his best beloved scholars, who, upon Bach’s warm commendation, was given the lucrative position of organist and musical director by the Council of Naumburg. This enabled them to marry and have a home, thus lifting another burden from the loving father. He could contemplate the evening of life with serene hope. His own were all provided for, and he now devoted himself with all his powers to a work he had long contemplated. The evening of life might end in darkness, but now he was ready to go before the throne of the All Highest, to whose service he had devoted his art piously and faithfully all his life.[49]
The great work which he had so much at heart was “Kunst der Fuge” (“The Art of Fugue”), a wonderful creation, unsurpassed in the abundance of its contents and their development. In completely elaborated numbers, not in dry theoretical rules, he shows what a skilful composer may accomplish with a single theme, and how it may be developed in the form and according to the rules of strict counterpoint in every possible way. So far as harmonious combinations are concerned, each part is exhaustively treated.[50] In the closing fugue, beside the two parts of the original theme, he introduces a short but very striking theme of only four notes; but those four notes represent the whole life of the composer, with all its joys and sorrows, its divine inspiration, and its deep soul-sadness—the four notes, “B-A-C-H.”[51]
Bach’s labor upon this colossal work exhausted what little strength he had. His eyesight began to fail. His creative faculty was impaired. He could no longer work. The “Art of Fugue” remained unfinished. Philipp Emanuel added to the last bars of his father’s manuscript the sad words:
“While engaged on this fugue, in which the name of ‘Bach’ is introduced in counterpoint, the author died.”
It was true. The old master did not live to finish the work. The end was near at hand. Two operations were performed upon his eyes, but they failed to help him. His life passed into darkness before death.
But he never lost courage. His spiritual vision remained clear to the last, so that he beheld the glory of his God whom he was so soon to meet. In those last days, so full of pain and of sorrow over the thought that he might lose his faculties completely, he triumphed over sickness and death with the help of that lofty, unwavering faith which had been the inspiration of all his work. Almost with his dying voice he dictated to his beloved Altnikol the majestic chorale (“Wenn wir in höchsten Nöthen sein”):
“When, sunk in deepest misery,
To make escape we vainly try,
When earthly help in vain is sought,
And earthly counsels come to nought,
There still remains this one relief—
That Thou dost hear our cry of grief,
And that our faithful trust in Thee
From earthly ills will set us free.”[52]
This trust, this deliverance did not fail him in those last days of pain and sorrow, in the last hard struggle. He rose triumphant over them, and the Almighty Father’s hand led him to a place in the choir of angels and holy spirits who stand before the throne in adoration, singing, “Holy! Holy! is the Lord! Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honor, and power, and might be unto our God, forever and ever. Amen.”—Spitta’s “Life of Bach,” Vol. III, p. 274.
On the thirtieth of July, 1750, the world’s greatest musician was buried in St. John’s churchyard, Leipsic.[53]
Appendix
The following is a chronological statement of the principal events in the life of Johann Sebastian Bach:
| 1685 | Born at Eisenach, March 21. |
| 1693 | Began his studies with his brother, Johann Christoph. |
| 1700 | Chorister at the College of St. Michael’s in Lüneburg. |
| 1703 | Organist of Arnstadt Church. |
| 1707 | Organist of St. Blasius’s Church, Mühlhausen. |
| 1707 | Married Maria Barbara Bach. |
| 1708 | Court Organist at Weimar. |
| 1720 | Death of first wife. |
| 1721 | Married Anna Magdalena Wülkens. |
| 1723 | Cantor of St. Thomas’s School, Leipsic. |
| 1725 | Composed first part of “Well-Tempered Clavichord.” |
| 1729 | Composed St. Matthew Passion Music. |
| 1734 | Composed Mass in B minor. |
| 1734 | Composed the Christmas Oratorio. |
| 1740 | Composed second part of “Well-Tempered Clavichord.” |
| 1747 | Dedicated “The Musical Offering” to Frederick the Great. |
| 1749 | Partly finished the “Art of Fugue.” |
| 1750 | Died at Leipsic in his sixty-fifth year, July 28. |
Footnotes
“Jetzt komm ich, Herr, vor Deinen Thron
Mit loberfülltem Munde,
Und danke Dir durch Deinen Sohn
In dieser Abendstunde.
Nimm an das Opfer, das ich Dir
Mit meinen Lippen bringe,
Und höre gnädig was ich Dir
Zu Deiner Ehre singe.”
LIFE STORIES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE
Translated from the German by
GEORGE P. UPTON
8 Vols. Ready
- Beethoven
- Mozart
- Bach
- Maid of Orleans
- William Tell
- The Little Dauphin
- Frederick the Great
- Maria Theresa
Each, with 4 Illustrations, 60 cents net
LIFE STORIES FOR YOUNG PEOPLE
BIOGRAPHICAL ROMANCES
TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN BY
GEORGE P. UPTON
A new, interesting, and very useful series that will be found especially
suitable for school libraries and for supplementary reading
The books in this series are translated from the German, because in that country a specialty is made of really desirable reading for the young. Eight titles are now ready and more will follow.
Their simplicity and accuracy make them very useful for every school library in the grades.
For parents who feel disposed to give their children books that provide a mild element of historical information, as well as first-class entertainment, the little books will prove a veritable find.
The “life-stories” retain the story form throughout, and embody in each chapter a stirring event in the life of the hero or the action of the time. The dramatis personæ are actual characters, and the facts in the main are historically correct. They are therefore both entertaining and instructive, and present biography in its most attractive form for the young.
A FULL LIST OF THE TITLES IS GIVEN ON THE NEXT PAGE
The work of translation has been done by Mr. George P. Upton, whose “Memories” and Lives of Beethoven, Haydn, and Liszt, from the German of Max Mueller and Dr. Nohl, have been so successful.
Each is a small square 16mo in uniform binding, with four illustrations. Each 60 cents net.
FULL LIST OF TITLES
Frederick the Great
The Maid of Orleans
The Little Dauphin
Maria Theresa
William Tell
Mozart
Beethoven
Johann Sebastian Bach
“These narratives have been well calculated for youthful minds past infancy, and Mr. Upton’s version is easy and idiomatic.”—The Nation.
“He is a delightful writer, clearness, strength, and sincerity marking everything to which he puts his hand. He has translated these little histories from the German in a way that the reader knows has conserved all the strength of the original.”—Chicago Evening Post.
“They are written in simple, graphic style, handsomely illustrated, and will be read with delight by the young people for whose benefit they have been prepared.”—Chicago Tribune.
“The work of translation seems to have been well done, and these little biographies are very well fitted for the use of young people.... The volumes are compact and neat, and are illustrated sufficiently but not too elaborately.”—Springfield Republican.
“These books are most entertaining and vastly more wholesome than the story books with which the appetites of young readers are for the most part satisfied.”—Indianapolis Journal.
OF ALL BOOKSELLERS OR OF THE PUBLISHERS
A. C. McCLURG & CO., CHICAGO
Transcriber’s Notes
- Copyright notice provided as in the original—this e-text is public domain in the country of publication.
- In the text versions, delimited italics text in _underscores_ (the HTML version reproduces the font form of the printed book.)
- Silently corrected palpable typos; left non-standard spellings and dialect unchanged.