CHAPTER VIII
THE ORATORIO FROM BEETHOVEN TO BRAHMS
Beethoven: ‘The Mount of Olives’; Spohr: ‘The Last Judgment’ and ‘Calvary’--Mendelssohn: ‘St. Paul’--‘Elijah’ and ‘Hymn of Praise’--Liszt: ‘St. Elizabeth’ and ‘Christus’--Oratorio in England; Sterndale Bennett: ‘The Woman of Samaria’; Costa’s ‘Eli’--Oratorio in France; Lesueur; Berlioz’s _L’enfance du Christ_--Gounod: ‘The Redemption’; _Mors et Vita_.
I
With the early years of the nineteenth century came many forces which fed the awakening desire for choral song. The dawning consciousness of national life in the Teutonic nations and the grateful sense of relief from Napoleonic oppression, with the accompanying train of intellectual
## activities which the new sense of freedom let loose--all contributed
to develop, in Germany particularly, a new attitude toward choral song as an outlet for the expression of the newly-awakened sense of new relationships. Hence in Germany we will find the most important centre of choral activities in the first half of this century. Here many of that remarkable group of German composers who assumed undisputed leadership of the musical world during this period, gave to the oratorio their richest thoughts and maturest attention--among them Beethoven, Spohr, Mendelssohn and Liszt.
‘Christ on the Mount of Olives’ (_Christus am Oelberge_) was Beethoven’s only oratorio. It was begun in 1800 at a period when he was still under the influence of Haydn and Mozart. It was finished in 1801 and first performed at Vienna, April 5th, 1803. Its first production in England was in 1814 under Sir George Smart during the Lenten oratorios at Drury Lane. Huber’s text, which was written in fourteen days, has been universally condemned as lacking in solemnity and failing in the essential dramatic requirements. Several attempts have been made to substitute texts for the original one that would remove its incongruities, but without satisfactory results.
The work calls for three solo voices, Jesus, Peter, and the Seraph. The introduction is an orchestral _adagio_ movement, very dramatic in character, depicting the agony in the Garden. This is followed by a recitative and aria for Jesus (tenor), ‘All my soul within me shudders,’ a sweet, pathetic number, in spite of its incongruity. There ensues a scene and aria by the Seraph, ‘Praise the Redeemer’s goodness,’ and joined to it a buoyant, joyous _obbligato_ with chorus, ‘O triumph, all ye ransomed!’ This is followed by a duet between Jesus and the Seraph, ‘On Me then fall thy heavy judgment,’ which, like Jesus’ first aria, offends through verging on the dramatic. After a short recitative in which Jesus welcomes death, there follows a strong and properly dramatic number, a chorus of soldiers in march-time, ‘We surely here shall find Him,’ in which are heard the shouts of the rabble and the grief of the apostles. Next comes a dialogue between Jesus and Peter, ‘Not unchastised shall this audacious band,’ and following this, a passage which again strains one’s sense of propriety, comes a trio between Jesus, Peter and the Seraph, with chorus, ‘O sons of men, with gladness.’ The last number, a chorus of angels, ‘Hallelujah, God’s Almighty Son,’ begins with a short but powerful orchestral introduction which is followed by a joyous outburst; and this in turn merges into a massive fugue, enriched and strengthened by a splendid orchestral accompaniment such as only Beethoven could conceive.
Had Beethoven written another oratorio, as he evidently contemplated, he doubtless would have enriched this form out of the tragic experiences of his later life, as he so bountifully did the more congenial forms of instrumental speech.
Spohr (1784-1859) was a prolific composer in instrumental and vocal forms. His ‘Jessonda’ was regarded as one of the strongest early romantic operas and two of his three oratorios enjoyed a large measure of popularity during his lifetime and in subsequent years, particularly in England. His style was melodious, exceedingly chromatic and modulatory, but his musical powers lacked the ability for sustained flights. While his musicianship charms, one feels a certain discrepancy between the grandeur of some of his oratorio themes and his musical mode of handling them. The Handelian breadth and massiveness is absent. His three oratorios are ‘The Last Judgment,’ ‘Calvary’ and ‘The Fall of Babylon,’ the last named written for the Norwich (England) Festival of 1842.
‘The Last Judgment’ (_Die letzten Dinge_)--not to be confounded with an earlier, crude oratorio, _Das jüngste Gericht_, written in 1812--was composed in 1825 and first performed on Good Friday, 1826, at the Lutheran Church at Cassel. The first large performance was at the Rhenish Festival at Düsseldorf of the same year. Its first hearing in England was at the Norwich Festival, September 30th, 1830, and in America, at Boston, March 20th, 1843, when it was presented by the Handel and Haydn Society. The English title of the oratorio is misleading and was a mistranslation, confused with Spohr’s earlier work, of similar name but different meaning. There is no suggestion of the terrors of the last judgment in this oratorio. The text of the first part is given over wholly to the general thought of praise ‘unto Him that sitteth upon the throne and unto the Lamb forever.’ The second
## part is concerned with those portions of Revelation that describe the
signs of the last day, closing with St. John’s vision of a new heaven and a new earth.
The first part contains among other numbers the well-known chorus, ‘All glory to the Lamb that died’; the admirable tenor solo and chorus, ‘Blessing, honor, glory and power,’ with a tranquil beginning and ending, but expanding into a well-written fugue in the middle; and the closing number, a beautiful quartet and chorus, ‘Lord God of Heaven and Earth.’ The second part begins with an orchestral introduction which graphically portends the signs and wonders of the last day. These are dramatically related in the following long bass recitative with vigorous, agitated accompaniment. After the powerful chorus, ‘Destroyed is Babylon,’ the vision of a new heaven and earth is proclaimed by the soprano, and three transitional numbers lead to the last movement, a majestic chorus, ‘Great and wonderful are all Thy works,’ which consists of a smooth introduction, a lively fugue, still another fugue (‘Thine is the kingdom’), followed by an exultant outburst of praise and the final Amen.
‘Calvary’ was first performed at Cassel on Good Friday, 1835. Four years later it was given in England at the Norwich Festival, the composer himself conducting. While it met with considerable criticism because of ecclesiastical prejudice against the introduction of the personality of Jesus among the singing characters (Beethoven’s ‘Mount of Olives’ occasioned the same offense), the work was a signal success. The text was by Rochlitz.
The work deals with scenes connected with the crucifixion and abounds in beautiful, expressive melody, both in the choruses (sung by the friends of Jesus) and in the ariosos of Mary and the recitatives of John. The beautiful chorus, ‘Gentle night, O descend,’ following a very grave and somewhat protracted overture, is an example of this expressive melody. The work becomes more impressive toward the close; especially so is the cry of Jesus, ‘My God, my God, O why hast Thou forsaken me?’ followed by the fervent prayer of the disciples, ‘In this dread hour of death,’ and another beautiful number sung by the disciples, ‘His earthly race is run,’ set for a quartet of solo voices accompanied by the chorus. A highly dramatic number is the chorus of priests and people, as they express their consuming fear aroused by the convulsions of nature attendant upon the crucifixion. The final number is a beautiful, sustained chorus of the disciples, ‘Beloved Lord, Thine eyes we close.’
II
The world waited fifty-six years after the first performance of Handel’s ‘Messiah’ (1742) before Haydn presented his ‘Creation,’ the first oratorio after Handel’s death that is comparable with his great masterpiece. After a lapse of thirty-eight years another oratorio appeared--Mendelssohn’s ‘St. Paul’--which rose above the ‘Creation’ and revealed its composer as one on whose shoulders the mantle of both Handel and Bach had descended with power. Versatile as Mendelssohn was in many forms, vocal polyphony seemed most congenial of all, and he will undoubtedly live longest in his great choral masterpieces, ‘St. Paul’ and ‘Elijah,’ the latter of which reaches a point of grandeur of conception and effective dramatic expression that remains as yet unsurpassed by any subsequent choral work. One of the most skillful contrapuntists since Bach, a perfect master of orchestration and possessed of exquisite sense of formal values, Mendelssohn was splendidly equipped to take advantage of the tremendous strides that had been made in the musical means of expression since the time of Handel and Haydn. He absorbed the devotional intensity of Bach’s choral music and reinstated the chorale as an integral element of German oratorio; from Handel he borrowed massiveness of choral structure and brilliance of vocal writing. Like Handel, his mode of musical speech was direct and intimate and its appeal was couched in terms of even more suave beauty. The immediate success of Mendelssohn’s oratorios was without doubt greatly aided by the favorable condition of the popular religious thought, as well as by the great acceleration in the interest in choral singing that had resulted from the immense popularity of Haydn’s ‘Creation’ in Germany. The appeal of this oratorio (‘Creation’) was doubly strong on account of its simplicity of conception and musical expression, so that in all directions choral societies were formed for the express purpose of producing it. A wide demand for choral works was created, but nothing of permanent value came in response until Mendelssohn’s ‘St. Paul.’ On the whole Mendelssohn’s oratorio-arias suffer from a lack of forcefulness due to the remarkable ease with which he invented sensuously charming melodies, so that many of them lack depth; but in choral writing his extraordinary architectonic skill led him firmly to a style which carries him close to the height where Handel dwelt.
‘St. Paul’ was the first of Mendelssohn’s great oratorios. It was written at the request of the Cecilia Society of Frankfort-on-the-Main--begun in Düsseldorf and completed at Leipzig, when the composer was in his twenty-sixth year. The text was written by the composer with the assistance of his friends Fürst and Schubring, after A. B. Marx had declined to write it on the ground that the introduction of chorales would be unsuited to the period of the narrative. The work is developed from three main themes--the martyrdom of St. Stephen, the conversion of St. Paul and the latter’s career after this event. Lampadius calls the work ‘the glorification of Christianity with its humility, its joy in living and dying for the Lord, in contrast to the blind self-righteousness of Judaism and the more sensuous morality of the heathen schools. It is the contrast, or rather the struggle, of the last two with the first, and the victory of the light and love of the Gospel. This thought is made incarnate in the persons of Stephen, Paul and Barnabas; and is concentrated in the really central point of interest of the whole oratorio--the conversion of St. Paul.’
The first performance of this work took place on May 22, 1836, on the occasion of the Lower Rhine Festival at Düsseldorf, the Cecilia Society of Frankfort having been compelled to forego its production because of the illness of its conductor. On Oct. 3rd, 1836, the first English performance was given at Liverpool. In the meantime, notwithstanding its success, Mendelssohn had revised the work and shortened it by omitting ten numbers. The enthusiasm with which ‘St. Paul’ was received was unprecedented, in Germany alone one hundred and fifty performances being given within eighteen months of its first production at Düsseldorf.
The rather long and expressive overture is followed directly by the first chorus, ‘Lord! Thou alone art God!’ which is very massively scored and expresses great exultation. The mood of this chorus changes, as it approaches its middle section, to the more excited and restless theme, ‘The heathen furiously rage’; but soon returns to the mood with which it opens and passes on directly to the chorale, ‘To God on High.’ This nobly beautiful melody is the beloved old German chorale, ‘_Allein Gott in der Höh’ sei Ehr_.’ The next part marks the martyrdom of Stephen. A powerful choral recitative for the basses accuses him of blasphemy and the multitude takes up the cry, ‘Now this man ceaseth not to utter blasphemous words.’ Stephen replies to this in a very expressive solo, ‘Men, Brethren and Fathers!’ but the people again give way to their anger in the strong chorus, ‘Take him away!’ The soprano solo, ‘Jerusalem, thou that killest the prophets,’ is a most eloquent admonition, but uttered in vain. The people in a tumult of frenzy demand his death (‘Stone him to death’). The pathetic tenor recitative tells of the tragic deed. Then follows a beautiful chorale of complete resignation, ‘To Thee, O Lord, I yield my spirit.’ Following this chorale, comes the calm and comforting chorus, ‘Happy and blest are they,’ with its fluent, expressive melodies. The fiery, threatening aria for bass, ‘Consume them all,’ brings Saul upon the scene. ‘But the Lord is mindful of His own’ follows and offers a complete contrast in its quiet and lovely melody for alto. Now occurs the most vital point of interest in the oratorio, the conversion. A voice from heaven (effectively represented by a soprano choir) is heard in the words, ‘Saul, Saul, why persecutest thou Me?’ An orchestral interlude leads with gradually growing crescendo to the powerful chorus, ‘Rise up! arise!’ This is succeeded by the chorale, ‘Sleepers, wake! a voice is calling,’ in which the effect is greatly enhanced by the trumpet figure following each choral line. The general mood grows more profound and serious as Saul offers up a prayer, ‘O God, have mercy upon me.’ Forgiveness and mercy are offered by Ananias and Saul’s sight is restored to him and he is baptized as Paul the apostle. The first part comes to a conclusion with the strong, exultant chorus, ‘O great is the depth of the riches of wisdom.’
A noble and dignified fugue, ‘The nations are now the Lord’s,’ opens the second part of the oratorio. There soon follows the chorus, ‘How lovely are the messengers that preach us the gospel of peace,’ one of the most beautifully melodious numbers in the whole work. It is succeeded by the soprano aria, ‘I will sing of Thy great mercies.’ But the scorn and rage of the Jews are aroused by the cures which Paul works in the name of the very prophet whose disciples he once so cruelly persecuted. The angry chorus, ‘Is this he who in Jerusalem,’ is followed by another chorale, ‘O Thou the true and only light,’ a fervent prayer of the Church for divine guidance. Paul and Barnabas depart for Lystra. Paul heals the cripple at Lystra and the multitude is deeply stirred. At this point Mendelssohn brings the three types of religion--Greek, Christian and Jewish--in fine contrast in the three choruses--‘O be gracious, ye immortals,’ full of Pagan sensuousness, ‘But our God abideth in heaven,’ with its calm assurance of Christian faith, and ‘This is Jehovah’s temple,’ in which the uncompromising intolerance of the Jews is angrily voiced. Paul bids a sorrowful farewell to his brethren (‘Be thou faithful unto death’) and the congregation tenderly responds, ‘Far be it from thy path.’ Two of the finest choruses of the work are the final numbers, ‘See what love hath the Father’ and ‘Now only unto Him.’ Two of the ‘St. Paul’ choruses--the beautiful chorale ‘To Thee, O Lord, I yield my spirit’ and the melodious ‘Happy and blest are they’--were chosen to be sung at Mendelssohn’s obsequies.
III
‘Elijah.’--Mendelssohn waited a full ten years after the performance of ‘St. Paul’ before he produced another oratorio on such broad lines and when ‘Elijah’ appeared in 1846, the world recognized that it was an event that transcended in importance any similar event since Handel’s ‘Messiah.’ ‘Elijah’ is certainly Mendelssohn’s finest and most sustained flight and there are not wanting those critics who stoutly maintain that it is unsurpassed in the whole literature of oratorio. In it the composer enters new paths. He gives full rein to the intensely dramatic side of the text and freely departs from the conventional form of oratorio--so much so that the work might safely be called a sacred opera. ‘Elijah’ was long in the composer’s mind and he worked on it carefully and with profoundest affection and sympathy, for although he had embraced Christianity, there was something about the heroic character of the old Hebrew militant prophet that struck deep into the fibres of his being. Work on it was begun as early as 1840, but he did not earnestly begin the composition of the music (the text he compiled largely himself) until 1845. It was first performed at the Birmingham Festival on August 26th, 1846, when Mendelssohn conducted it before an enormous audience which extended to the composer one of the most thrilling ovations ever enjoyed by a musician. Though its success was most extraordinary, Mendelssohn was not deterred from carefully revising it. It is interesting to note that the universally popular ‘angels’ trio’ (‘Lift thine eyes’) was originally written for only two voices.
The most startling innovation of the whole oratorio is the short, impressive bass recitative which precedes the overture--Elijah’s dramatic prophecy of the drought. Then follows the sombre, gloomy overture portraying the results of the curse as the drought settles over the land and dries up the waters. It leads without pause into the opening chorus, ‘Help, Lord,’ which voices the anguished appeal of the drought--and famine-stricken people. This dramatic supplication leads into a second chorus, ‘Lord, bow Thine ear to our prayer,’ with a duet for two sopranos, supported by a unison chorus, the theme of which is based on an old Hebrew chant and is intoned first by the male and then by the female voices. The succeeding tenor aria (Obadiah), ‘If with all your hearts,’ is of great beauty. The people are not consoled and again burst forth into vehement complaint, ‘Yet doth the Lord see it not,’ which changes toward the end into a lovely chorale, ‘For He the Lord our God.’ An angel’s voice then calls Elijah to the waters of Cherith. A beautiful double quartet follows, whose simple melody is worked up with fine effect, ‘For He shall give His angels charge over thee,’ Elijah is now bidden by the angel to the widow’s house at Zarephath. The raising of her son follows in a dramatic scene consisting of the mother’s passionate cry, ‘What have I to do with thee,’ and the prophet’s ‘Give me thy son.’ The scene then closes with the chorus, ‘Blessed are the men who fear Him,’ The next scene is one of the most dramatic portions of the work--the appearance of the prophet before Ahab, his defiant challenge to the priests of Baal to the sacrifice on Mount Carmel, and the thrilling trial by fire. This part includes the truly Pagan choruses, ‘Baal, we cry to thee’ and ‘Hear our cry, O Baal’; Elijah’s taunt, ‘Call him louder’; the prophet’s dignified appeal, ‘Lord God of Abraham,’ followed by the simple chorale, ‘Cast thy burden on the Lord’; the summoning of fire from heaven upon the altars, and the picturesque and descriptive chorus, ‘The fire descends from heaven.’ The priests are doomed to destruction by Elijah in an excited recitative. Following a choral response, Elijah sings the highly dramatic and difficult aria, ‘Is not His word like a fire?’ Another aria, ‘Woe unto them,’ for alto voice, succeeds Elijah’s and the rain scene begins. In answer to Obadiah’s appeal to help the people, Elijah sings his expressive invocation for rain, ‘Look down from heaven,’ and after several choral responses, together with the exclamations of Elijah and the youth who is sent ‘to look toward the sea,’ the signs of rain appear. Then follows the most thrilling climax of the whole work. As the clouds grow black with rain and the storm gathers force, the people begin to voice their thanks, the orchestra describes the rushing waters, and finally the whole chorus joins in a tumultuous outburst of thanksgiving (‘Thanks be to God’) which brings the first part to a magnificent close.
An effective soprano solo, ‘Hear ye, Israel,’ opens the second part. This leads into the strong, majestic chorus, ‘Be not afraid,’ one of Mendelssohn’s finest choral efforts, in which the regular musical forces are augmented by the organ. Elijah needs the encouragement of this admonition, for he again confronts Ahab and condemns the worship of Baal. The queen, Jezebel, accuses him of working to destroy Israel and the people in wrath shout, ‘Let the guilty prophet perish.’ Obadiah bids him fly to the wilderness. The next scene reveals the persecuted prophet alone and discouraged. In a pathetic plaint, ‘It is enough,’ he resigns himself to death and, wearied with flight, he falls asleep under the juniper tree ‘and the angels encamp round about him.’ This leads directly to what is undoubtedly the most exquisitely beautiful vocal trio in existence--the pure and serene ‘Lift thine eyes,’ sung _a cappella_ by the watching angels. Without pause there follows the beautiful chorus, ‘He watching over Israel.’ The angel then awakens Elijah, who complains pathetically, ‘O Lord, I have labored in vain.’ ‘O rest in the Lord,’ sung by the angel, offers Elijah consolation. The encouraging chorus, ‘He shall endure to the end,’ brings the scene to a majestic close. The following scene reveals a changed Elijah. He yearns now for the divine presence instead of for death. In a sudden outburst the chorus exclaims, ‘Behold, God the Lord passed by.’ A sudden _pianissimo_ works up into an impressive _crescendo_, and once more appears a _pianissimo_ as the chorus impressively exclaims, ‘The Lord was not in the tempest.’ The earthquake and the tempest and the fire follow. ‘And there came a still, small voice ... and in that still, small voice onward came the Lord.’ Elijah was transformed by the experience and went on his way ‘in the strength of the Lord.’ His strong, confident aria follows, ‘For the mountains shall depart.’ A powerful chorus states that ‘Then did Elijah the prophet break forth like a fire’ and there follows the dramatic choral narrative of the prophet’s ascent into heaven in a fiery chariot. The fine tenor aria, ‘Then, then shall the righteous shine,’ and the melodious quartet, ‘Oh! come, every one that thirsteth,’ lead over into the final choral number--a magnificent fugue (‘Lord, our Creator’), introduced by the majestic phrase, ‘And then shall your light break forth.’
‘Hymn of Praise.’--This symphony-cantata was composed to commemorate the fourth centennial of the invention of the art of printing, held at Leipzig, in June, 1840. A second performance followed at Birmingham, Mendelssohn conducting, a few months later, Sept. 23rd. Dramatically it has no very great significance, being designed purely as a ‘tribute of praise’ for the manifold gifts of the Lord, among them being the art of printing--which the text, based upon the Scriptures, carefully elucidates.
The symphony, or instrumental prelude, is divided into three parts, opening with a majestic trombone passage which clearly anticipates the mood of the ensuing cantata. The real ‘Hymn of Praise’ is given out in the opening chorus, ‘All that has life and breath,’ based upon the motive heard in the opening measure of the prelude. The work then moves on in a majestic manner, reaching its climax with the entrance of the impressive chorus, ‘The night is departing.’ A final chorus, ‘Ye nations, offer to the Lord,’ is in fugal form and is inspiring in its massiveness. The choral motive, ‘All that has life and breath,’ is again given out _fortissimo_ and brings the work to an impressive close. The duet for two sopranos, ‘I waited for the Lord,’ is one of the most beautiful numbers in this work.
IV
The dazzling achievements of Liszt (1811-86) as a pianoforte virtuoso and the popularity and originality of his instrumental compositions have put his choral work in an unfortunate perspective; and they have by no means received the attention they richly merit. Two of the finest examples of oratorio of this period are from the brilliant Abbé’s pen, both written in the full maturity of his powers and with the employment of all his immense resources of dramatic and emotional expression. They are ‘Christus’ and ‘The Legend of the Holy Elizabeth.’ The latter legend, familiar to English readers through Canon Kingsley’s dramatic poem, ‘The Saint’s Tragedy,’ deals with the life of the daughter of King Andreas II of Hungary, born in 1207, who at the age of four was sent to the Wartburg to be brought up as the affianced bride of Ludwig, son of the Landgrave Hermann of Thuringia. After their marriage in 1220 wonderful tales were told of her devotion to the poor, of her pious Christian life, and, after Ludwig’s death, of the cruel hardships which the hatred of her mother-in-law brought upon her. She died in 1231 and was canonized at Marburg in 1235 by command of Pope Gregory IX.
‘The Legend of Saint Elizabeth’ was composed in 1864 and received its first performance in Budapest on August 15, 1865, which event marked the twenty-fifth anniversary of the establishment of the Budapest Conservatory. The composition, however, was really undertaken at the request of the Duke of Weimar for a festival held at the Wartburg on Aug. 28, 1867, commemorating both the eighth centenary of its founding and also the restoration of the romantic old castle which was so intimately associated with the legend of St. Elizabeth. The text by Otto Roquette was inspired by the six magnificent frescoes by Moritz von Schwind which adorn the walls of the Wartburg, and it is divided into six scenes corresponding to the six frescoes.
The first scene opens with an orchestral introduction which sets forth the Elizabeth motive, taken from an old ecclesiastical melody. The music grows animated as it leads into the first chorus, which joyfully welcomes the child Elizabeth, who as the affianced bride of Ludwig, son of the Landgrave of Thuringia, comes to the Wartburg, where she is brought up side by side with her future husband. The second scene reveals the happy matron Elizabeth, now for some years the wife of Ludwig. One of the most beautiful parts of the whole work is the duet between Elizabeth and Ludwig as he surprises her in her alms-deeds which she tries to conceal from him because of her mother-in-law’s fierce disapproval of them. Especially dramatic and beautiful is the portion dealing with the ‘Rose Miracle.’ The quaint story of this episode is as follows: Elizabeth, having dismissed her ladies in order that she may secretly bring bread and wine to some of her poor, sick subjects, suddenly meets her husband in the deep forest far from the Wartburg. Ludwig’s suspicions are aroused and when he asks what her basket contains, she tells him that she has been gathering roses. Ludwig, who does not believe her, seizes the basket, when she hastily confesses that it is bread and wine, and behold! the contents of the basket have been turned into roses! Liszt was very desirous of having this very mysterious and ethereal and indicated in the score that the orchestra should in this part ‘sound fairly transfigured’ and that the conductor should ‘scarcely mark the rhythm’ in order not to imperil the effect. The penitent Ludwig begs her forgiveness and as she asks, ‘Is it a dream?’ the chorus responds, ‘A wonder hath the Lord performed.’
Scene three opens with the stately chorus of crusaders (‘In Palestine, the Holy Land’) with dignified march accompaniment, which leads to Ludwig’s farewell to his wife on his departure for the Holy Wars. Then ensues Elizabeth’s passionate entreaty, ‘Oh tarry! O shorten not the hour,’ followed by the pathetic ‘With grief my spirit wrestles,’ after which the stirring chorus and march of the crusaders closes the scene. Scene four, with its short, sombre orchestral prelude, announces the death of Ludwig, the bitter antagonism of Landgravine Sophie, Elizabeth’s mother-in-law, who drives the sorrowing, broken-hearted young widow from her home. Especially dramatic are the dialogues, in the midst of which is Elizabeth’s aria, ‘O day of mourning, day of sorrow,’ in which she pours out her grief as she fares forth in the storm. Scene five discloses Elizabeth on her death-bed in a hospital founded by herself, where she has forgotten her own sorrow in ministering unto others. Her last words (‘Unto mine end Thy love has led me’), after a gradual _decrescendo_ in the orchestra, are followed by a chorus of angels, ‘All grief is o’er,’ closing with the celestial strains of harps. An orchestral interlude, in which are developed the main themes of the work, leads to the last scene, which depicts the canonization of Elizabeth at Marburg in the presence of the Emperor. This ceremony closes the work with a chorus of the people mourning her death, choruses of the crusaders, of the church choristers and bishops, and finally an imposing six-part chorus, the Latin hymn, _Tu pro nobis, mater pia_.
_Christus_ was composed in 1866 during Liszt’s residence in Rome, just after he had been appointed Abbé by his friend, Archbishop Hohenlohe, and at a time when, it is said, he entertained high hopes of being appointed chapel-master of the Papal Choir. But, though he was in high favor with the Catholic hierarchy, nothing came of it. The _Christus_ was written soon after the ‘Legend of St. Elizabeth,’ but, while both are deeply imbued with the spirit of Roman Catholicism, the former reflects the deep interest which he took in religious matters at the time far more than does the latter. Liszt compiled the text, which is in Latin, entirely from the Bible and from the Roman liturgy. There are three divisions to the work--(1) ‘The Nativity,’ (2) ‘After Epiphany,’ dealing with the Lord’s life and ministry, and (3) ‘The Passion and the Resurrection.’ The first fragmentary performance of ‘Christus’ took place July 6, 1867, at the Sala Dantesca, in Rome, and another in Vienna in 1871. The first complete production was at Weimar in 1873 under the direction of the composer.
The first part, containing five numbers, opens with an orchestral prelude built on an ancient plain-song melody, _Rorate cœli_, in Isaiah’s prophecy. This leads into a quaint Pastoral, after which comes the angels’ announcement of Jesus’ birth and a _Gloria in excelsis_. A devotional setting of the old Latin hymn, _Stabat mater speciosa_, leads into two orchestral movements of great beauty--‘The Song of the Shepherds at the Manger,’ a lovely pastoral, and ‘The March of the Three Kings,’ an elaborate number in which the high tones of the violins and flutes typify the Star of Bethlehem. The second
## part contains ‘The Beatitudes’ for baritone and six-part chorus, the
Lord’s Prayer, a part entitled ‘The Founding of the Church’ (_Tu es Petrus_), ‘The Miracle’ (Jesus calming the storm), again treated orchestrally, and ‘The Entry into Jerusalem,’ a brilliantly scored tone-picture, mainly instrumental, save for two vocal passages--a Hosanna for chorus and a Benedictus for mezzo-soprano and chorus. The third part opens with the pathetic solo _Tristis est anima mea_ (‘My soul is sorrowful’), in which the Christ pours out his soul to Peter and his companions on the way to Gethsemane. The orchestra plays a most important part in the expression of this tragic struggle, after which the ancient Latin hymn, _Stabat mater dolorosa_, is given with combined orchestral and choral forces. Of all the settings of this celebrated liturgic text, Liszt’s is the most powerful and impressive, though it is too overwhelming in its effect for use in the church-service. This lengthy and elaborate number is contrasted strongly with the following simple and quaint Easter hymn, _O filii et filiæ_, which prepares the listener for the majestic _Resurrexit_ (‘Resurrection’) which follows and builds up a final climax, with the combined resources of chorus and orchestra, that is really commensurate with the grandeur of the theme.
Liszt himself regarded the _Christus_ as his best work--‘my musical will and testament’--and in works of its class it certainly stands unique in the intensity of its expression and in the unusual combination of mediæval church atmosphere and modern musical resources--a powerful fusing of the old and the new. It is scarcely an oratorio in the usual understanding of the term, but rather a kind of liturgic mystery, such as Lesueur strove to build up but did not complete. It cannot be considered apart from the religious faith of its composer and from this point of view it stands as the highest representative of Roman Catholic oratorio.
V
The influence of England on oratorio is by no means to be measured by the number of original works of this class produced by Englishmen. No other country in the world has such a record of long and unbroken loyalty to this musical form and no other country has so freely opened its doors to composers of other nationalities. When one recalls that Handel’s series of magnificent oratorios was written for English appreciation, that Haydn’s ‘Creation’ drew its inspiration from London, that Mendelssohn’s ‘Elijah,’ Gounod’s ‘Redemption’ and _Mors et Vita_, and many other oratorios of less worth were written for, and received their initial performances before, English festival audiences, one can form some estimate of what English love of choral art has done for its development.
English composers of this period were still using the musical phraseology of Handel and Mendelssohn, so that not much can be said of the individual works produced, though several were worthy and held a certain popularity for a long time. Among the more notable English oratorios of the period were Sir Julius Benedict’s ‘St. Peter’ (1870), George Alexander Macfarren’s ‘St. John the Baptist,’ which was received enthusiastically at the Bristol Festival of 1873, William Sterndale Bennett’s ‘The Woman of Samaria,’ and Sir Michael Costa’s ‘Eli’ and ‘Naaman’ (Birmingham Festival, 1864).
‘The Woman of Samaria,’ a ‘sacred cantata’ by W. Sterndale Bennett (1816-75), was first performed at Birmingham August 27, 1867. The story, taken from the fourth chapter of St. John’s Gospel, follows literally the Bible narrative--Jesus’ journey to Samaria, his rest at the well, and the entrance of the Samaritan woman. This is interspersed with choral and solo passages, the former enacting the part of moralist, commenting upon the situations as they occur by means of appropriate scriptural selections. The part of the Woman of Samaria is sung by the soprano, while the declamatory parts are assigned to the contralto. The tenor has but one aria and the bass acts almost entirely as narrator, the Saviour’s words being always related in the third person. In a single instance the chorus assumes the rôle of narrator, ‘Now we believe,’ where the words are part of the story.
A short instrumental prelude leads to the chorale, ‘Ye Christian people now rejoice,’ for sopranos only. The melody used is an old one, having appeared in the _Geistliche Lieder_ (Wittenberg) in 1535. The chorale is interestingly treated by means of opposing rhythm in the orchestral part. The recitative for contralto, ‘Then cometh Jesus to a city of Samaria,’ opens the oratorio proper. After a chorus, ‘Blessed be the Lord God of Israel,’ and short recitatives for bass, contralto and soprano, which are again followed by a chorus, there ensues the conversation between the Saviour and the woman, during which Jesus tells her of her past life. She replies in the beautiful contralto solo, ‘O Lord, Thou hast searched me out,’ which is full of tender expression. During the dialogue, the divine nature of Jesus is revealed to the woman and there follows the six-part chorus, ‘Therefore they shall come and sing,’ and this in turn is succeeded by the deeply devotional and well-known quartet, ‘God is a Spirit,’ sung by the solo voices _a cappella_. A soprano solo, ‘I will love Thee, O Lord,’ was introduced into the oratorio after the death of the composer, among whose manuscripts it was found. This was done for two reasons, to indicate the conversion of the woman and also to interrupt the series of choruses. Among the remaining numbers are a lovely chorale, ‘Abide with me, fast falls the eventide,’ and the fine chorus, ‘Now we believe.’ The work is brought to a close with a majestic fugue, ‘Blessed be the Lord God of Israel.’ An atmosphere of devotion pervades the work and, while the composer recognizes the worldly character of the woman, he sees also the possibilities of her intuitive religious feeling, which the Master needed only to awaken.
Costa’s ‘Eli’ was first produced at the Birmingham Festival, August 29, 1855, under the direction of the composer. The text follows the scriptural narrative in the first book of Samuel and was arranged by William Bartholomew. In a rather disconnected manner, and with the story of young Samuel as a central point, it deals with the service of Eli the priest, the carousals of his dissolute sons, the sorrows of Elkanah and Hannah, and the exploits of the warlike Philistines. Some of the finer numbers of the oratorio are Eli’s sombre invocation, ‘Hear my prayer, O Lord’; Hannah’s joyful song, ‘I will extol Thee, O Lord’; the elaborate fugal chorus, ‘Hosanna in the highest,’ which closes the first part; the familiar orchestral march of the Israelites; Samuel’s devout evening prayer, ‘This night I lift my heart to Thee,’ followed by the beautiful female chorus of angels with harp accompaniment, ‘No evil shall befall thee’; and the vigorous chorus, ‘Woe unto us, we are spoiled,’ sung by the Israelites when their crushing defeat by the Philistines is announced.
VI
The oratorio in France had a slow beginning and has throughout its development displayed traits distinctly traceable to two sources, the first of which is the national fondness for theatrical settings for all dramatic works. Even _La nativité_ by Gossec (1734-1829) probably gained wide attention when given at the Tuileries Cathedral, because the composer had a chorus of angels concealed in the dome, thereby giving a more picturesquely dramatic effect. Concert-oratorio, in which the sources of enjoyment are largely limited to pure choral effects, divorced from dramatic content, has never made a wide appeal in France. The second source of the characteristics of French oratorio is to be found in the influence which the liturgy of the Roman Church has exercised over this art-form. French oratorio has preserved a close connection with the old Gallican liturgic drama of the Middle Ages--so much so that the word ‘mystery’ has almost entirely superseded ‘oratorio’ as a title or sub-title for this form of composition. Its line of descent from the mediæval mysteries is still further identified in the subject-matter itself, which usually concerns itself with the mysteries of Christian faith and church doctrine. The titles most frequently subjoined by the composers are ‘sacred drama,’ ‘biblical scene,’ etc., rather than ‘oratorio.’ Here lies the distinct line of demarcation between oratorio from the Protestant and Roman Catholic points of view.
The first of the French composers to write a series of oratorios[80] was François Lesueur (1760-1837) and the strongest of these is his ‘Christmas Oratorio’ written in 1826, which is a combination of drama and churchly office. Lesueur was of the opinion that ecclesiastical music must of necessity be liturgical and therefore based on the Gregorian chant and accent. This work is really an adaptation of the Christmas Mass treated as an oratorio-text, the parts of which are distributed as solos, choruses and ensemble passages among the persons assembled around the manger. Most of these lightly scored passages are built upon old liturgical melodies or upon old French Christmas songs, and the harp is very lavishly used in the instrumentation. The text is in Latin, taken from the Vulgate. After the _Kyrie_, accompanied by string quartet, there follows the appearance of the angels, closing with a short instrumental coda. After this comes a _Gloria in excelsis_ and a pastoral instrumental passage (Shepherds on the Fields of Bethlehem) scored for violas and horns. Two holy women sing as a duet the _Gratias agimus tibi_ and the closing number consists of a pastoral hymn to the words, _Jam desinant suspiria_.
One of the most important of the French romantic oratorios is Hector Berlioz’s sacred trilogy, _L’enfance du Christ_ (‘The Childhood of Christ’), which was written in 1854 and performed in Paris and Brussels the same year. This oratorio, dealing with the flight of the Holy Family, is really an enlargement of an earlier cantata, _Fuite en Egypt_ (‘The Flight into Egypt’), and shows traces of the influence of Lesueur, whose pupil, Berlioz, caught the operatic spirit that was associated with his master’s work. The oratorio, the text of which is by the composer, consists of three rather short parts--The Dream of Herod, The Flight into Egypt and The Arrival in Sais. The first
## part depicts Herod, tormented by awful dreams and influenced by the
soothsayers to kill the first-born men-children. The music is sombre, but in the Herod passages takes on the operatic style referred to above. In strong contrast to this is the second part, which deals entirely with the Holy Family and reveals qualities of loveliness and naïveté as it depicts the babe Jesus greeted by the chorus of angels. The most elaborate part is the third, especially the portion which reveals Joseph demanding shelter where he has been refused. Here the music assumes a dramatic and brilliant development.
Although Charles Gounod (1818-93) after the extraordinary success of his masterpiece, ‘Faust,’ was firmly established as one of the foremost opera-composers of Europe, he never lost touch with religious music and finally abandoned the stage entirely for the style that lay closest to his real ambition, becoming the greatest, if not indeed the only great, composer of oratorio in France during this period. As a winner of the _Grand Prix de Rome_ he had studied ecclesiastical music, especially the works of Palestrina; during a visit to Vienna in 1842 he had produced a Requiem in the church of St. Charles, which created a profound impression, and soon after returning to Paris he had even seriously thought of taking holy orders. Wide attention was first attracted to him by the London performance of portions of his _Messe solennelle_, and even during the period of his greatest fame from his stage-works, he constantly reverted to the composition of sacred music. His two great oratorios--‘The Redemption’ and _Mors et Vita_--strike out a somewhat new path for this art-form. Here he abandons entirely the contrapuntal and fugal character of the chorus as being artificial and unessential, thus departing completely from Handelian and Mendelssohnian models, and adopts from the Wagnerian music-drama the system of ‘leading motives,’ of which he makes limited use to designate important and representative religious or dramatic themes. Both of these oratorios were composed for English audiences, and Gounod’s residence in London after the Franco-Prussian War and his acquaintance with the English festival oratorio undoubtedly colored the compositions to such an extent that they might almost be called English oratorios.
‘The Redemption.’--This work was originally intended as the first part of a ‘Sacred Trilogy,’ as he styled it, only the second of which (_Mors et Vita_) was ever completed; the composition of the third was prevented by his death. The seriousness with which Gounod approached this work is evidenced by the inscription--‘the work of my life’--which he wrote on the opening page of the first of the great works, ‘The Redemption.’ This had been begun in 1867 in Rome, where the composer wrote his text and set a few numbers of the music, but it was not completed until twelve years later and the first performance took place on August 30, 1882, at the Birmingham Festival. It was heard in Paris, May 22nd, 1886, and for the first time in America in the winter of 1883-1884 under the direction of Theodore Thomas. It is dedicated to Queen Victoria.
In the preface of his work Gounod states: ‘This work is a lyrical setting forth of the three great facts on which depends the existence of the Christian Church. These facts are: 1. The Passion and the Death of the Saviour. 2. His glorious life on earth from His Resurrection to His Ascension. 3. The spread of Christianity in the world through the mission of the Apostles.’ This trilogy is preceded by a ‘Prologue on the creation, the fall of our first parents and the promise of the Redeemer.’ The work is divided in accordance with the above as follows:
Prologue--The Creation.
## Part I.--Calvary.
## Part II.--From the Resurrection to the Ascension.
## Part III.--The Pentecost.
The personages are Jesus, Mary and two narrators. The composition, which by some is pronounced the finest of modern oratorios, is a curious mixture of old and new ways of musical treatment. While Gounod, evidently influenced by Wagner, made use of ‘leading motives,’ he also used the narrator in the same manner as did Bach and in like manner treats the chorale. After a short instrumental introduction, descriptive of chaos, and the narrator’s recitative concerning the fall of man, the Redemption theme is heard and it appears wherever the atonement is thought of. This beautiful leading motive is heard nine times during the course of the work and is most effectively introduced in the first chorus, ‘The earth is my possession.’ Its most touching use is where Jesus tells the dying malefactor, ‘To-day shalt thou be with Me in Paradise,’ and its most impressively triumphant appearance is in the orchestral part at the close of the splendid chorus, ‘Unfold, ye portals everlasting.’
The first part treats of the condemnation of Jesus, the crucifixion, Mary at the foot of the cross and Jesus’ conversation with the two thieves. It contains some finely written solos and choruses, and the two instrumental numbers--‘The March to Calvary’ and the number descriptive of the darkness that fell over the earth as Jesus uttered his last words. The second part includes the events in the period between the Resurrection and the Ascension. Among the beautiful numbers in this part are the trio of Holy Women (two sopranos and a contralto) ‘The Lord, He is risen again,’ and the lovely chorus with soprano obbligato, ‘From Thy love as a Father.’ Possibly the strongest chorus in the whole work is ‘Unfold, ye portals everlasting,’ which is so often sung as a separate chorus number. The third part with its beautiful orchestral introduction has for its first chorus the melodious ‘Lovely appear over the mountains,’ followed by one of the most exquisite portions of the whole work, the soprano solo, ‘Over the barren wastes.’ After a repetition of the preceding chorus, there follow the impressive events of the day of Pentecost, the Apostles at prayer (for orchestra alone), the descent of the Spirit and the singing of the Beatitudes. The close is a repetition of the majestic apostles’ hymn in unison, with the whole chorus, orchestra and organ massed in a magnificent structure with grandiose effect.
_Mors et Vita_ is the second of his contemplated ‘sacred trilogy,’ of which ‘The Redemption’ was the first. The Latin text is compiled from the Catholic liturgy and from the Vulgate, and the work is dedicated to Pope Leo XIII. The first performance took place at the Birmingham Festival, August 26, 1885, under the direction of Richter, and the first performance in Paris, in May, 1886. Gounod writes in the preface: ‘It will perhaps be asked why, in the title, I have placed death before life. It is because in the order of eternal things death precedes life, although in the order of temporal things life precedes death.’ He also refers to his use of ‘leading motives,’ which are also employed in ‘The Redemption.’ There are four of these, the first of which, a theme made up of four tones (a sequence of three major seconds), is supposed to express ‘the terror inspired by the sense of the inflexibility of Justice and, in consequence, by that of the anguish of punishment. Its sternness gives expression both to the sentences of Divine Justice and the sufferings of the condemned, and is found in combination throughout the whole work with melodic forms which express sentiments altogether different, as in the _Sanctus_ and the _Pie Jesu_ of the _Requiem_ which forms the first part.’ The second, the motive of sorrow and tears, is, by the alteration of one tone, changed into a motive of joy. Of the fourth, Gounod writes: ‘By means of a threefold superposition, it results in the interval of an augmented fifth and announces the awakening of the dead at the terrifying call of the angelic trumpets, of which St. Paul speaks in one of his epistles to the Corinthians.’
A short Prologue leads to the first part, _Mors_ (Death), which is a _Requiem_ expanded by interpolated texts of a reflective character. The second part, called _Judicium_ (Last Judgment), contains six subdivisions, as follows: The Sleep of the Dead, The Trumpets at the Last Judgment, The Resurrection of the Dead, The Judge, The Judgment of the Elect, The Judgment of the Rejected. The third part, _Vita_ (Life), using the text of St. John’s vision in the Apocalypse, describes the joys of the Holy City, New Jerusalem, closing with an exultant _Hosanna in excelsis_.
Among the finest choruses of the oratorio are the _Quid sum miser_ (‘Ah! What shall we then be pleading’) and the _Lacrymosa dies illa_ (‘Day of weeping, day of mourning’) from the _Dies iræ_. Probably the greatest aria of the work is the soprano solo, _Beati qui lavant_ (‘The righteous shall enter into Glory Eternal’).
The theme which Gounod has chosen presents opportunities for orchestral effects which such a master of orchestration as he was would naturally seize upon, and several of the numbers are for orchestra alone--The Epilogue to the first part, in which the various leading motives are developed, The Judge, and The Heavenly Jerusalem.
FOOTNOTES:
[80] These oratorios were, in addition to the one named, ‘Deborah,’ ‘Rachel,’ ‘Ruth and Naomi,’ ‘Ruth and Boaz,’ and the three ‘Coronation Oratorios’ written for the three days’ coronation ceremonies of Napoleon in 1804 (in reality three masses expanded so as to include the special ceremonies).
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