I recently read this short
anecdote about Felix Mendelssohn. I have long regarded him as a “honorary”
British composer. The story is self-explanatory, however a few words about Henry
Chorley may be of interest. Born in Blackley Hurst Lancashire on 15 December
1808, he became one of the leading music critics of his day. He also wrote libretti
for operas, perhaps most famously for Arthur Sullivan’s The Saphire Necklace
(c.1862). He was the author of many books, novels and plays as well as being a
regular contributor to the long running Athenaeum journal. Henry Fothergill
Chorley died in London on 16 February 1872.
Grove’s Dictionary explains
Chorley’s musical tastes: “he disliked and Wagner’s he detested. Schumann’s
music repelled him. He admired Mendelssohn, however, almost without
reservation, and in 1847 attempted to persuade him to set his own adaptation of
Shakespeare’s The Winter’s Tale. It could have been a wonderful work if
written…
Henry Chorley, an English
critic and musical writer of much note, on one of his trips to
the continent went to Leipzig for the purpose, among other things, of meeting
Mendelssohn and hearing some of his works. Shortly after his arrival he was
taken with an acute attack of illness and confined to his room, a small
apartment in a crowded German inn. He had met Mendelssohn and other musicians
before his illness. It is not pleasant to be sick among strangers in a foreign
land, and his feelings were not of the most enjoyable kind. His illness had
been known but a few hours when he heard a heavy tramping up the stairs. It
stopped at his door. "Who is there? “He called. "A grand piano to be
put in your room," was the reply, "and Dr Mendelssohn is coming
directly."
And soon Dr Mendelssohn
did come, with his warm smile and hearty greeting. "If you like,"
said he, "we will make some music here to-day, since you must not go
out," and down he sat and began to play a lot of music about which Chorley
had expressed some curiosity the day before. For hours
Mendelssohn stayed there
delighting, as Chorley modestly said, "an obscure stranger as zealously
and cheerfully as if his time could not be measured by gold, and as if his
company was not eagerly and importunately sought by the 'best of the best,' who
repaired to Leipzig with little purpose but to seek his acquaintance."
The present tale was
taken from Anecdotes of Great Musicians by W. Francis Gates (London,
Weekes & Co., 1896)
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