The Standard Oratorios: Their Stories, Their Music, And Their Composers

by George P. Upton

The Legend of the Holy Elizabeth.

The oratorio, "Legend of the Holy Elizabeth," was written in 1864, and first produced Aug. 15, 1865, upon the occasion of the twenty-fifth anniversary of the Conservatory of Pesth-Ofen. The text is by Otto Roquette, and was inspired by Moritz von Schwind's frescos at the Wartburg representing scenes in the life of the saint. A brief allusion to her history will still further elucidate the story which Liszt has treated so powerfully. She was the daughter of King Andreas II. of Hungary, and was born in 1207. At the age of four she was betrothed to Ludwig, son of the Landgrave Hermann of Thuringia, whom she married in 1220. After his death, in 1227, she was driven from the Wartburg and forced to give up the regency by her cruel and ambitious mother-in-law. After long wanderings and many privations she retired to Bamberg, where her uncle, the bishop, dwelt; but shortly afterwards her rights were restored to her. She renounced them in favor of her son, Hermann II., and died in 1231. Four years later she was canonized at [181] Marpurg by order of Pope Gregory IX. Her life was devoted to the relief of the poor and suffering.

The characters introduced in the oratorio are Saint Elizabeth, Landgrave Ludwig, Landgrave Hermann, Landgravine Sophie, a Hungarian Magnate, the Seneschal, and the Emperor Frederick II. The last three rôles are usually assigned to Ludwig, thus reducing the number of solo-singers to four. The work is laid out in two parts, each having three scenes corresponding in subjects with Von Schwind's six frescos. The first describes the arrival of Elizabeth at the Wartburg, and the welcome she receives. In the second she is married, and her husband, Ludwig, has succeeded to the throne. His devotion to knight-errantry leads him from home. During his absence a famine breaks out, and Elizabeth in her devotion to the sufferers impoverishes herself and incurs the wrath of her mother-in-law, the Landgravine Sophie. While carrying a basket of bread and wine one day to the victims of the scourge, she is met by her husband, who has unexpectedly returned. Amazed at the absence of her attendants, he questions her, and she excuses herself with the plea that she has been gathering flowers. Doubting the truth of her statement, he snatches the basket from her. She confesses her falsehood; but upon examining the basket it is found to be full of roses. The Lord has performed a miracle. Overcome with remorse for doubting her, Ludwig begs her forgiveness, and the two join in prayer that the Lord may continue His goodness to them. The third scene opens at [182] Schmalkald, on the borders of Thuringia, where Ludwig has assembled his knights and nobles who are to accompany him to the Holy Land. They declare their allegiance to Ludwig as their leader, and he calls upon them also to swear fealty to his wife. After a sad farewell Ludwig rides away at the head of his Crusaders. The fourth scene opens with the news of Ludwig's death. The Landgravine claims the castle as her inheritance, compels Elizabeth to abandon the regency, and drives her out in the midst of a furious storm. In the fifth scene we find her at a hospital which she has founded, and notwithstanding her own troubles and sufferings still ministering to others in like affliction. This scene closes with her death, and in the last we have the ceremonies of her canonization at Marpurg.

The first scene opens with a long orchestral introduction, working up to a powerful climax, and based mainly upon a theme from the old church service, which is Elizabeth's motive, and is frequently heard throughout the work. An animated prelude which follows it introduces the opening chorus ("Welcome the Bride"). A brief solo by Landgrave Hermann ("Welcome, my little Daughter") and another of a national character by the Hungarian Magnate attending the bride intervene, and again the chorus break out in noisy welcome. After a dignified solo by Hermann and a brief dialogue between Ludwig and Elizabeth, a light, graceful allegretto ensues, leading up to a children's chorus ("Merriest Games with thee would we play"), [183] which is delightfully fresh and joyous in its character. At its close the chorus of welcome resumes, and the scene ends with a ritornelle of a plaintive kind, foreboding the sorrow which is fast approaching.

The second scene, after a short prelude, opens with Ludwig's hunting-song ("From the Mists of the Valleys"), which is written in the conventional style of songs of this class, although it has two distinct movements in strong contrast. As he meets Elizabeth, a dialogue ensues, including the scene of the rose miracle, leading up to a brief chorus ("The Lord has done a Wonder"), and followed by an impressive duet in church style ("Him we worship and praise this Day"). The scene closes with an ensemble, a duet with full choral harmony, worked up with constantly increasing power and set to an accompaniment full of rich color and brilliant effect.

The third scene opens with the song of the Crusaders, an impetuous and brilliant chorus ("In Palestine, the Holy Land"), the accompaniment to which is an independent march movement. The stately rhythm is followed by a solo by the Landgrave, bidding farewell to Elizabeth and appealing to his subjects to be loyal to her. The chorus replies in a short number, based upon the Hungarian melody which has already been heard. Elizabeth follows with a tender but passionate appeal to her husband ("Oh, tarry! oh, shorten not the Hour"), leading to a solo ("With Grief my Spirit wrestles"), [184] which is full of the pain of parting. A long dialogue follows between them, interrupted here and there by the strains of the Crusaders, in which finally the whole chorus join with great power in a martial but sorrowful style. As it comes to a close, the orchestra breaks out into the Crusaders' march,--a brilliant picture of the knightly pageant, the time gradually accelerating as well as the force, until it reaches a tremendous climax. The trio of the march is based upon a religious melody which was sung in the time of the Crusaders; but the remainder follows the Gregorian intonation. The chorus once more resumes its shout of jubilee, and the brilliant scene comes to an end. So vividly colored is this music that one can well fancy the sorrowful Elizabeth as she stands gazing at the band of knights, with Ludwig at their head, slowly riding away, pennons fluttering in the breeze, and lances and mail glittering in the sunlight.

In the fourth scene a slow and mournful movement, followed by an allegro ominous and agitated in style, introduces the Landgravine Sophie, the evil genius of the Wartburg. The tidings of the death of Ludwig have come, and with fierce declamation she orders Elizabeth away from the castle. The latter replies in an aria ("O Day of Mourning, Day of Sorrow") marked by sorrowful lamentation. Sophie again hurls her imprecations, and a very dramatic dialogue ensues, which takes the trio form as the reluctant Seneschal consents to enforce the cruel order. Once more Elizabeth tenderly appeals [185] to her in the aria, "Thou too art a Mother." Sophie impatiently and fiercely exclaims, "No longer tarry!" The scene comes to an end with Elizabeth's lament as she goes out into the storm, which is vividly described in an orchestral movement, interspersed with vocal solos. These have little bearing upon the subject-matter, however, which is mainly described by the band with overwhelming power.

The fifth scene opens with a long declamatory solo by Elizabeth,--full of tenderness and pathos, in which she recalls the dream of childhood,--closing with an orchestral movement of the same general character. It is followed by the full chorus ("Here 'neath the Roof of Want"), which after a few bars is taken by the sopranos and altos separately, closing with chorus again and soprano solo ("Elizabeth, thou holy one"). The death-scene follows ("This is no earthly Night"). Her last words, "Unto mine End Thy Love has led me," are set to music full of pathos, and as she expires, the instrumentation dies away in peaceful, tranquil strains. A semi-chorus, which can also be sung by three solo voices ("The Pain is over"), closes the sad scene, the ritornelle at the end being made still more effective by the harps, which give it a celestial character.

The last scene opens with an interlude which gathers up all the motives of the oratorio,--the Pilgrim's Song, the Crusaders' March, the Church Song, and the Hungarian Air, and weaves them into a rich and varied texture for full orchestra, bells, and [186] drums, forming the funeral song of the sainted Elizabeth,--the same effect, and produced in the same manner, which Wagner subsequently used with such magnificent power in the dirge of Siegfried. It is followed by a solo from the Emperor, "I see assembled round the Throne,"--a slow and dignified air, leading to the great ensemble closing the work, and descriptive of the canonization of Elizabeth. It begins as an antiphonal chorus ("Mid Tears and Solemn Mourning"), the female chorus answering the male and closing in unison. Once more the Crusaders' March is heard in the orchestra as the knights sing, "O Thou whose Life-blood streamed." The church choir sings the chorale, "Decorata novo flore," the Hungarian and German bishops intone their benedictions, and then all join in the powerful and broadly harmonious hymn, "Tu pro nobis Mater pia," closing with a sonorous and majestic "Amen."