ROMBERG.
Andreas Romberg was born April 27, 1767, at Vechte, near Münster. At a very early age he was celebrated as a violinist. In his seventeenth year he made a furor by his playing at the Concerts Spirituels, Paris. In 1790, with his cousin Bernhard, who was even more celebrated as a violoncellist (indeed the Rombergs, like the Bachs, were all musicians), he played in the Elector’s band, and also went with him to Rome, where the cousins gave concerts together under the patronage of one of the cardinals. During the next four years Andreas travelled in Austria and France, and during his stay at Vienna made the acquaintance of Haydn, who was very much interested in his musical work. In 1800 he brought out an opera in Paris which made a failure. He then left for Hamburg, where he married and remained many years. In 1820 he was appointed court capellmeister at Gotha, and died there in the following year. Among his compositions are six symphonies; five operas, “Das graue Ungeheuer,” “Die Macht der Musik,” “Der Rabe,” “Die Grossmuth des Scipio,” and “Die Ruinen zu Paluzzi;” and several cantatas, quartets, quintets, and church compositions. Of all his works, however, his “Lay of the Bell” is the best known. A few years ago it was the stock piece of nearly every choral society in Germany, England, and the United States; and though now relegated to the repertory of old-fashioned music, it is still very popular.
Lay of the Bell.
The “Lay of the Bell” was composed in 1808, the music being set to Schiller’s famous poem of the same name, whose stately measures are well adapted to musical treatment. It opens with a bass solo by the Master, urging on the workmen:—
“In the earth right firmly planted,
Stands well baked the mould of clay:
Up, my comrades, be ye helpful;
Let the bell be born to-day.”
The full chorus responds in a rather didactic strain (“The Labor we prepare in Earnest”), and as it closes the Master gives his directions for lighting the fire in the furnace and mixing the metals. In this manner the work progresses, the Master issuing his orders until the bell is ready for the casting, the solo singers or chorus replying with sentiments naturally suggested by the process and the future work of the bell. The first of these responses is the chorus, “What in the Earth profoundly hidden,” a smoothly flowing number followed by a soprano solo (“For with a Burst of joyous Clangor”), a pleasantly-rippling melody picturing the joys of childhood, and a spirited tenor solo (“The Youth, Girl-playmates proudly leaving”) indicating the dawn of the tender passion which broadens out into love, as the two voices join in the charming duet, “O tender Longing, Hope delightsome.” The bass still further emphasizes their delight in the recitative, “When stern and gentle Troth have plighted,” leading up to a long but interesting tenor solo (“Though Passion gives way”) which describes the homely joys of domestic life. The male chorus thereupon takes up the story in a joyful strain (“And the good Man with cheerful Eye”), and tells us of the prosperity of the happy pair and the good man’s boast,—
“Firm as the solid earth,
Safe from misfortune’s hand,
Long shall my dwelling stand;”
to which comes the ominous response of the female chorus:—
“Yet none may with Fate supernal
Ever form a league eternal;
And misfortune swiftly strides.”
The Master now gives the signal to release the metal into the mould, whereupon follows a stirring and picturesque chorus (“Right helpful is the Might of Fire”) describing the terrors of fire, the wild alarm, the fright and confusion of the people, the clanging bells and crackling flames, and the final destruction of the homestead, closing the first part.
The second part opens with the anxious orders of the Master to cease from work and await the result of the casting. The chorus takes up a slow and stately measure (“To Mother Earth our Work committing”) which closes in a mournful finale describing the passing funeral train, followed by a pathetic soprano solo which tells the sad story of the death of the good man’s wife, while “To the orphaned Home a Stranger comes unloving Rule to bear.” The scene now changes from a desolate to a happy home as the Master bids the workmen seek their pleasure while the bell is cooling. A soprano solo takes up a cheery strain (“Wends the weary Wanderer”), picturing the harvest home, the dance of the youthful reapers, and the joys of evening by the fireside, followed by a tribute to patriotism, sung by tenor and bass, the pleasant scene closing with an exultant full chorus (“Thousand active Hands combining”). The Master then gives the order to break the mould, and in contemplation of the ruin which might have been caused had the metal burst it, the chorus breaks out in strong, startling phrases picturing the horrors of civil strife (“The Master’s Hand the Mould may shatter”). The work, however, is complete and successful, and in the true spirit of German Gemüthlichkeit the Master summons his workmen:—
“Let us, comrades, round her pressing,
Upon our bell invoke a blessing.
‘Concordia,’ let her name be called:
In concord and in love of one another,
Where’er she sound, may brother meet with brother.”
The cantata closes with a last invocation on the part of the Master, followed by a jubilant chorus (“She is moving, She is moving”).
