THE HINDOOS.
With this people, and the Egyptians we find proofs of the existence of a musical system at a time which far antedates the earliest reliable Scriptural records.
Among the Hindoos especially, as far back as history extends, music has been treated not only as a fine art, but philosophically and mathematically. According to the oldest Brahminical records, in their all-embracing “Temple of Science,” it belongs to the 2d chief division of Lesser Sciences, but its natural and philosophic elements, are, with a nice distinction, admitted into their holiest and oldest book, the Veda.[1] Of course it has a divine origin ascribed to it, in fact the entire realm of Indian music is one tale of Mythology.
According to Brahminical accounts, when Brahma had lain in the egg three thousand billion, four hundred million of years (3,000,400,000,000) he split it by the force of his thought and made Heaven and Earth from the two pieces; then Manu brought forth ten great forces, which made Gods, Goddesses, good and evil spirits and Gandharbas (Genii of music), and Apsarasas (Genii of Dance), and these became the musicians of the Gods, before man knew of the art. Then Sarisvati, Goddess of Speech and Oratory, consort of Brahma, at Brahma’s command brought the art to man and gave him also his finest musical instrument, the Vina, of which hereafter. Music then found a protector in the demi-god Nared, one of the chief Indian musical deities, while Maheda Chrishna helped it along by allowing five keys, or modes, to spring from his head (a la Minerva) in the shape of Nymphs, and his wife Parbuti, added one more; then Brahma added thirty lesser keys, or modes, and all these modes were also Nymphs.
The Hindoo scale has seven chief tones and these tones are represented as so many heavenly sisters.
In the Indian legends, music is represented as of immense might. All men, all animals, all inanimate nature listened to the singing of Maheda and Parbuti with ecstasy.
Some modes were never to be sung by mortals, as they were so fiery that the singer would be consumed by them. In the time of Akber, it is related, that ruler commanded Naik Gobaul, a famous singer, to sing the Raagni[2] of Fire; the poor singer entreated in vain, to be allowed to sing a less dangerous strain; then he plunged up to his neck in the river Djumna, and began: he had not finished more than half of his lay when the water around him began to boil; he paused (at boiling point) but the relentless, or curious Akber, demanded the rest, and with the end of the song the singer burst into flames and was consumed. Another melody caused clouds to rise and rain to fall; a female singer is said once to have saved Bengal from famine and drought in this manner. Another lay caused the sun to disappear and night to come at midday, or another could change winter to spring or rain to sunshine. All these typify beautifully the might of music with this race. Of the four chief tone systems, two also have divine origin, from Iswara and from Hanuman (the Indian Pan), the others come from Bharata Muni who invented the drama with music and dance, and from Calinath.
When Chrishna was upon the earth as a shepherd, there were sixteen thousand pastoral Nymphs or Shepherdesses who fell in love with him.—They all tried to win his heart by music, and each one sang him a song, and each one sang in a different key, (let us hope not all at once). Thence sprang the sixteen thousand keys, which according to tradition once existed in India.
In order that the full extent of Hindoo Musical Mythology may be conceived, we will now sketch the tones which are employed.
We have stated that there are seven chief tones; these tones have short monosyllabic names; as we give to our notes the syllables, do, re, mi, etc., the Hindoos call their scale tones sa, ri, ga, ma, pa, dha, ni, sa, which are certainly as easy to vocalise upon as our solfeggi; in fact the language is very well adapted to music, as it has all the softness, elegance and clearness of the Italian. Von Dalberg says that Sanscrit unites the splendor of the Spanish, the strength of the German, and the singableness of the Italian.
With the resemblance of seven chief tones, however, the similarity ends, for while our scale has only half tones as smallest interval, the Hindoos have quarter tones, and not equally distributed either; thus:
| whole tone | small whole | half tone | whole tone | whole tone | small whole | half tone | ||||||||
| Sa | Ri | Ga | Ma | Pa | Dha | Ni | Sa | |||||||
| ¼¼¼¼ | ¼¼¼ | ¼¼ | ¼¼¼¼ | ¼¼¼¼ | ¼¼¼ | ¼¼ |
In theory it will be seen that the octave is always a half tone flat, but practically they correct this by singing it on its proper pitch. On six of the above intervals they found their chief modes but they form various lesser modes on each interval, i. e., they could give ten different modes, or scales, starting from C alone.
These six chief styles, are, of course, six Genii, corresponding to the six Hindoo divisions of the year, these are each married to five Nymphs, the thirty lesser styles; each Genii has eight sons, who are each wedded, also to Nymphs, one apiece. There seem to be few celibates in Hindoo Mythology, therefore an exact census gives to this interesting family six fathers, thirty mothers, forty-eight sons, forty-eight daughters-in-law, or one hundred thirty-two in all, each of them being the God or Goddess of some particular key, and each of them, of course, having a distinctive name; we shall not give the various names, but to illustrate the relationship among them, the following will suffice; the four 1-4 tones beginning on the fifth tone of the scale, Panchama (or Pa) are the Nymphs Malina, Chapala, Lola and Serveretna, while the next full tone (Dha) is owned by Santa and her sisters; if Dha should be flatted 1-4 tone which would give it the same pitch as the highest 1-4 tone of Pa, (called Serveretna), the poetical Hindoo would not say “Dha is flat,” but “Serveretna has been introduced to the family of Santa and her sisters.”[3]
Although the musical art of the Hindoos had such an early existence, it seems not to have developed or receded much since ancient days; they possess airs to which the European ear instantly, and involuntarily attaches harmony, (auxiliary voices), and yet they have not the slightest craving for harmony. They are completely satisfied to express all emotion by melody, sometimes combined with the dance, and yet do not feel the monotony, which would be obviated by additional voices.
But it must be said that, so far as melody goes, they have great taste and discrimination; the music often approaches the European in form and rhythm, and the Hindoo seems to feel instinctively the importance of the tonic, and dominant, and often finishes the phrases of a melody with a half cadence.[4]
Of the Hindoo instruments the Vina takes the lead; as before mentioned, they ascribe to it a divine origin; it has four strings and is incorrectly defined as a lyre by many commentators, but it is rather a guitar than lyre, and is made of a large hollow bamboo pipe, about 3½ feet long, at each end of which are two large hollow gourds, to increase the resonance: it may be roughly compared to a drum major’s baton, with a ball at both ends, while the strings extend along the stick; it has a finger-board like a guitar, and the frets are not fastened permanently on it, but stuck on by the performer with wax.
The tone is both full and delicate, sometimes metallic and clear and very pleasant. The music composed for it is usually brilliant and rapid, and the Hindoos seem to have their Liszts and Rubinsteins; in the last century Djivan Shah was known throughout all India as a virtuoso, on the Vina.
They ornament their Vinas sometimes very richly and there are paintings of their chief performers, sitting with magnificent Vinas leaning against their bodies, this being the attitude of the player. They also have possessed from time immemorial, a three-stringed violin, so that Raphael and Tintoretto may not have committed an anachronism in painting Apollo with a violin.[5]
A Guitar called Magoudi, finishes the list of characteristic stringed instruments.
The instruments of percussion and wind instruments are more numerous. They possess four kinds of drums, and their popular, secular dances are usually accompanied by the Vina, for the melody, and drums, bells and cymbals.
Flutes they have possessed from remotest antiquity, and a muffled drum called Tare for funeral occasions, and they also have a double flute with a single mouth piece. We will not dwell further upon their instruments; there is but one, the Vina, which is really fitted to produce beautiful music.
The Hindoos complain that their old music is deteriorating and such singers as Chanan or Dhilcook, two vocal celebrities of the last centuries, have passed away. When one inquires for the miracle-working Ragas, (improvised songs) in Bengal, the people say there are singers probably left in Cashmere who can give them; and should you inquire in Cashmere they would send you to Bengal for them, but in reality there seems to have been comparatively little change in the style of Hindoo music from its earliest days.
CHAPTER II.
ANCIENT EGYPTIAN.
The ancient Egyptians ascribed the origin of music to opposite causes, some legends giving its invention to beneficent Deities, while other legends are interpreted to give its origin to Satan, the evil principle, or at least the principle of sensuality, as represented by the buck Mendes. Hermes (or Mercury) is accredited with first having observed the harmony of the spheres, and the lyre also is represented as being his invention, in the following legend:
A heavy inundation of the Nile had taken place, and when the waters receded, there was left upon the banks a tortoise, who went the way of all tortoises, and after a time was completely dried up by the sun; the tendons however, which were attached to the shell, remained, and became tightly drawn by the expansion of the shell. Hermes, wandering upon the bank, accidentally struck his foot against it; the tendons resounded, and Hermes thus found a natural lyre.
This legend is however found also in Hindoo and Greek Mythology, and may be one of those tales, springing from Arian root, which belong to almost every race. We also find an Egyptian Apollo and Muses in other musical legends, according to Diodorus Siculus.
“When Osiris was in Ethiopia,—the Egyptian God Osiris was a sort of blending of Bacchus and Apollo—he met a troupe of revelling satyrs, and being a lover of pleasure and taking delight in choruses of music, he admitted them to his already numerous train of musicians. In the midst of these satyrs were nine young maidens, skilled in music and divers sciences.”
The Egyptians also considered Horus, brother of Osiris, (equivalent to the Greek Apollo) as God of Harmony.
Thus three Gods have the honor of fostering Egyptian music, Osiris, Horus, and Hermes.
Hermes, or (by his Egyptian name) Thoth, was the especial God of many sciences, and is said to have written two books of song, or works relating to the song-art. According to Diodorus, the Lyre which he had invented had three strings, which represented the three seasons of Egypt; the deepest string was the wet season, the middle one the growing season, the highest the harvest season: the tones of Egyptian music seem to be taken from the seven heavenly planets, as known to the ancients, and from this circumstance Ambros hazards the conjecture that the diatonic scale was known to them.
Among the mythical musical personages of the earliest Egyptian music, may be mentioned Maneros, who was son of the first king of Egypt, who succeeded the second dynasty of demi-gods.
He seems to be analogous to the Linus, (son of Apollo), of the Greeks; he died young, and the first song of the Egyptian music[6] was in his honor; it was a lament over his untimely end, the swift passing away of Youth, Spring, etc. The song was sung under various guises, for Maneros, Linus, Adonis, etc., among various ancient nations, and Herodotus was surprised at hearing it in Egypt. But in course of time the song itself, and not the king’s son was called Maneros, and gradually diffused its influence, (the warning of the passing away of Joy) through Egyptian social life; at their banquets a perfectly painted statue of a corpse was borne round and shown to each guest, and there was sung the following warning:
“Cast your eyes upon this corpse
You will be like this after Death,
Therefore drink and be merry now.”[7]
The song also from being a mournful one, became in time joyous and lively,[8] Plutarch thinks that the words Maneros, became synonymous with “Good Health.” The fashion was after the conquest of Egypt, imitated in Rome.[9] The ancient Egyptian music was really a twofold affair and is well symbolized in being attributed by some to good, by others to evil gods; for it was used in the religious services of the highest gods, (except, according to Strabo, in the services of Osiris, at Abydos) and on the other hand was degraded as a pastime for the lowest orders.
The musicians were not held in any respect, and were not allowed to change their occupation, but were obliged to transmit it from father to son and were also probably compelled to live in a certain quarter of the cities wherein they dwelt.[10]
Of course there were celebrated singers and performers, and also leaders of the chants, and royal singers, who were exceptions to the foregoing rule, but according to Diodorus Siculus, the Egyptians not only considered music a useless art, but even a hurtful one, as it enervated the soul and made man effeminate. Yet for all this there are found among ancient sculptures many representations of singers and musicians evidently belonging to the higher classes, though we cannot but believe that these exceptions only prove the rule, and even to-day music is considered a sensuous and rather unmanly art, by Eastern nations.
Among the most ancient songs of Egypt there seem to have been little refrains sung by the working classes while at labor; there is here not conjecture but absolute certainty, for the words of part of one of these songs are preserved, on an ancient picture of threshers of grain, oxen, etc.; the threshers sing, according to Champollion’s learned deciphering,
“Thresh for yourselves, oh oxen,
Thresh for yourselves;
Measures for your masters,
Measures for yourselves.”
In a grotto at El bersheh there is also a painting of the transportation of a colossal statue from the quarry, and here also while one hundred and seventy-two men are laboring at the ropes, one is perched upon the statue and is giving the time of a refrain, which all are to sing.
The custom of singing while at work still exists in Egypt, as, for example, sailors sing a particular song when starting on a voyage, another when there is danger of a collision, another when the danger is past.
Music was a chief portion of the Egyptian funeral ceremonies, and on the walls of nearly all the tombs of ancient days, are found paintings of the funeral ceremonies; the greater part of what is known of their instruments comes from this source; the best singers and players were engaged for the purpose by the richer classes, and sang mournful chants, being similar to the professional mourners at present found in the East. The music was probably chiefly melodic, or one-voiced, though this subject has some ambiguity attached to it, our only guide as to their music being the representations in the tombs, etc., as not a scrap of actual music has been left to us; but when we consider the furious controversy about, and the different interpretations of the fragments of Greek music which time has left us, this may be an advantage rather than otherwise. There is one painting[11] left, which seems to confirm the idea that the Egyptians knew something of the effect of harmony. This painting represents two harpers at one side and three flute players at the other, while between them are two singers, one of whom seems to be following with his voice the melody of the harpers, while the other sings with the flutes; this seems to intimate that the Egyptians possessed, at least two-voiced harmony.
Chappell, in his admirable History of Music, says that it is mathematically impossible, that all of the instruments represented in their paintings should have been played in unison.
The music of Egypt was for a long time regulated by the Government, that is all innovations were punishable by law; probably this referred only to religious music, and did not affect popular music.
In all ages there seem to have been two distinct schools of music, the scientific, and popular. There is no doubt that while the early European theorists held that only consecutive fifths and fourths were musical, the populace had a less forced and more beautiful style, and it is more than probable that in Egypt the popular music was totally different from the sacred.
All the songs appear to have been accompanied by a clapping of hands, and therefore the rhythm was probably strongly marked. The effect of this clapping of hands is by no means unpleasant, and is still used by the negroes of America in some songs and dances, and among various barbarous nations. It seems curious to think, that in witnessing these lively dances, one may be beholding a counterpart of the enjoyments of four thousand years ago, or that in witnessing the pirouettes of a ballet dancer, we are amusing ourselves in the ancient Egyptian manner; the latter fact is proved by ancient paintings, however. Other ancient Egyptian dances were similar to the modern jigs, clog dances and breakdowns, as is amply shown by figures found both in Upper and Lower Egypt.
The Egyptians had also dances with regular figures, forward and back, swing, etc.; these dances were restricted to the lower orders, the upper classes being forbidden to indulge in them.
If we could transport ourselves back to Thebes in its days of grandeur, we should be somewhat astonished at the slight change, in comparison with what is usually supposed, from our own times. Imagine the time of a great religious festival. The Nile is crowded with boats, loaded to their utmost capacity, with passengers, offerings, etc. Sometimes hundreds of thousands came to Thebes or Memphis, and especially to Bubastis, on such occasions. From each boat is heard playing and singing. Within the city all the streets are full; here march by a troop of Pharaoh’s soldiers, all the privates uniformed alike, their marching regular, and their drill well attended to; at their head is a military band, (picture found at Thebes) of trumpeters, drummers beating the drum with their hands, and other performers; along that mighty avenue of Sphinxes is marching a procession to one of the temples: here also musical instruments, particularly flutes, head the column, and a processional hymn is being sung, to which the white-robed priests keep time while marching, as they carry the sacred golden barge of the God, full of treasure of various kinds.
Here is passing along, a deputation from some far off tributary prince in the heart of Æthiopia, carrying presents for the king, and all around is life, bustle, and enjoyment. In some of the temples music is sounding, (the temple of Osiris, at Abydos, being the only exception,) and the clang of the sistrum is often heard. Truly the life of ancient Egypt was as joyous and varied as that of more modern times.
The sistrum was, until the Napoleonic expedition to Egypt, which gave to the world the wonders of this store house of antiquity, considered the representative of Egyptian music. It was merely a short, oval hand frame which held three or four metal bars; sometimes bells were hung upon these bars, and by shaking the instrument, as a baby shakes a rattle, which it really in principle resembles, a jingling of the bars or bells was produced.
Latterly it has been thought that the sistrum was not a musical instrument at all; but, like the bell sounded at the elevation of the Host in Catholic churches, was used as a means of riveting and impressing the minds of the worshippers. At all events the sistrum takes no rank among Egyptian musical instruments. The harp was really the instrument on which they lavished the most attention; paintings, and fragments of harps have been found, in the so-called “Harpers’ Tomb,” which caused Bruce to exclaim that no modern maker could manufacture a more beautiful piece of workmanship.
The ancient Egyptian harps look very modern indeed, except for the fact that they have no front board or “Pole,” and it seems strange that they could bear the tension without its support; the pitch could not have been at all high. There was a species of harp, of the compass of about two octaves, with catgut strings, (wire strings the Egyptians had not), found in a tomb hewn in the solid rock at Thebes, so entirely preserved that it was played upon by the discoverer, and gave out its tones after being buried 3000 years. Of course the strings perished after exposure to the air.
Fetis, to whom musical history owes so much, has here fallen into a singular mistake. He says “it would scarcely be believed that the ancient Egyptians with whom the cat was a sacred animal, should have used cat-gut strings on their instruments, but the fact is proved beyond a doubt.” This is all very true, but M. Fetis seems not to have known the fact that cat-gut has not its origin in the cat, but is almost always, in reality sheep-gut.
The list of instruments of ancient Egypt embraces harps of various numbers of strings, Nabla, from which come the Roman Nablium and Hebrew Nebel, a sort of Guitar; Flutes, single and double, (a flute player often headed the sacred processions, and Isis is said to have invented the flute.) Tambourines and hand drums; sometimes the Egyptians danced to a rhythmic accompaniment of these alone.[12] The flute was generally played by men, and the tambourines by women. Lyres, of various shapes, often played with the hand, but sometimes also with a plectrum, (a short, black stick, with which the strings were struck,) trumpets, cymbals, and some metal instruments of percussion. There are many paintings in which entire orchestras of these instruments are playing together, but probably all in unison.
There exists an excellent painting from a Theban tomb,[13] in which we see an Egyptian musical party in a private house. Two principal figures are smelling of small nosegays, while two females offer to them refreshments; three females are dancing and singing for the amusement of the guests, who sit around, apparently having a very enjoyable time; below are seen slaves preparing a banquet, which is to follow the music. The Egyptians often had music before dinner.
Another application of music is pictured in a very ancient painting, given by Rosellini,[14] in his great work; in it is seen a woman nursing an infant, while a harper and singer are furnishing music, possibly to lull the child to sleep; in almost all these paintings the singers are represented with one hand to their ear in order to catch the pitch of the instruments more readily.
But the most interesting painting has been copied, in the folios of Lepsius,[15] from a tomb of great antiquity; it represents a course of musical instruction in the department of the singers and players of King Amenhotep IV. (18th Dynasty). We see several large and small rooms, connecting with each other; furniture, musical instruments and implements are seen all around, especially in the small rooms or closets. In the large rooms are the musicians, engaged in practising and teaching; one teacher is sitting, listening to the singing of a young girl, while another pupil is accompanying her on the harp; another girl stands attentively listening to the teacher’s instructions, (class system evidently); in another part two girls are practising a dance, while a harper accompanies; other musicians are variously engaged. In one room is a young lady having her hair dressed, and in another, a young miss has leant her harp against the wall, and is sitting down with a companion to lunch. This certainly gives a fair insight into the music life of old, and we leave Egyptian music, of which as music we know nothing, with more satisfaction after this glance at the Royal Egyptian Conservatory of Music.
CHAPTER III.
BIBLICAL AND HEBREW.
The earliest scriptural mention of music is in Genesis, Chapter IV. where Jubal is spoken of as “Father of those who handle the harp and organ.” But harp and organ must by no means be confounded with our modern instruments of the same name. The harp was probably an instrument of three strings, while all the very ancient references to an organ, simply mean a “Syrinx” or Pan’s pipes. The music of Biblical History is, as is almost all the music of ancient nations, combined to a great extent with the dance; the dances of the ancients were what to-day would be called pantomimes, expressing joy, sorrow, fear, or anger, by the motions and expressions of face and body, rather than by the feet.
The real character of the ancient Hebrew music, as well as of many of the musical instruments, is involved in utter obscurity, and no clues to enlighten the investigator, remain in the modern music of this usually most conservative of peoples; much of their musical system was borrowed, until David’s time certainly, from the Egyptians.
The music of the modern Jews is tinged in almost every instance with the character of the music of the people around them; thus the same psalms are sung in a different manner by German, Polish, Spanish, or Portuguese Jews.
One little trace of their primitive music remains; on the occasion of their New Year, a ram’s horn is blown, and between the blasts on this excruciating instrument the following phrases are addressed to the performer,—
Tahkee-oo, Schivoorim, Taru-o.
These words, which also have a reverential meaning, may possibly at one time have been addressed to the ancient musicians, to give to them the order of the music. Strong presumptive proof that this blowing of the trumpet is the same as it was in King David’s time is found in the fact that it is blown in the same rhythm, by the Jews all over the world. It certainly requires no forced interpretation to call the Ram’s horn (Schofer) one of their early instruments, as it would be their most natural signal-call both in peace and war.
In all the Jewish theocracy, the music naturally took a theosophical character, and is seldom detached from religious rites; we shall find the same spirit running through other of the ancient civilizations, even barbarians seeming to share in the almost universal impulse to praise the Deity with this art, and this should prove to supercilious critics that however ill-sounding the music of other races may appear to our ears, to them it was a highly considered art, and as such, merits our attention.
David may be regarded as the real founder of Hebrew music. He must have possessed great skill even in his youth, as the instance of his being able to soothe Saul’s crazed mind with his music, proves. This may be regarded as one of the earliest notices of the effects of music in mental disease. What the nature of his inventions and reforms in music afterwards were, and how far he remodelled the style which had been brought from Egypt, cannot now be known, as Jerusalem has been pillaged nearly twenty times since his reign, and every monument, or inscription which might solve the enigma, has long been destroyed.
There are still marks and inflections in the Hebrew Scriptures which are evidently intended to show the style in which they were to be chanted.
Regarding the instruments spoken of in Scripture as being used in the Temple there is also no certainty. In the Talmud there is mention of an organ which had but ten pipes, yet gave one hundred different tones; this instrument is placed about the beginning of the Christian Era, and is called Magrepha; it is said of it, that its tones were so powerful that when it was played, the people in Jerusalem could not hear each other talk. Pfeiffer conjectures that it was probably not an organ, but a very loud drum. There are other authorities who have endeavored to prove that the Magrepha was simply a fire shovel; they contend that it was used at the sacrifices of the Temple to build up the fire, and was then thrown down, with a loud noise, to inform people outside how far the services had progressed. The reader has liberty to make his own choice, for the authorities are pretty evenly balanced,—organ, drum, or fire shovel.
We must make some allowance for Oriental exaggeration in musical matters, for when Josephus speaks of a performance by 200,000 singers, 40,000 sistrums, 40,000 harps, and 200,000 trumpets, we must imagine that either Josephus’ tale, or the ears of the Hebrews, were tough. All these statements only enlarge a fruitless field, for in it all is conjecture.
The flute was a favorite instrument both for joy and sorrow: the Talmud contains a saying that “flutes are suited either to the bride or to the dead.”
The performance of all these instruments seems to have been always in unison, and often in the most fortissimo style.
Calmet gives a list of Hebrew instruments including viols, trumpets, drums, bells, Pan’s pipes, flutes, cymbals, etc., and it is possible that these have existed among them in a primitive form.
The abbé de la Molette gives the number of the chief Jewish instruments as twelve, and states that they borrowed three newer ones from the Chaldeans, during the Babylonian captivity.
According to records of the Rabbins, given by Forkel, the Jews possessed in David’s time, thirty-six instruments.
Some of the instruments named in the Scriptures are as follows:—Kinnor, usually mentioned in the English translation as a harp, so often alluded to in the Psalms, (“Praise the Lord with harp,” etc., xxxiii:2,) was probably a lyre, or a small harp, of triangular shape: that the Hebrews possessed a larger harp is more than probable, for they were in communication with Assyria and Egypt, where the harp, in a highly developed state, was the national instrument, but it is a matter of much dispute, as to which of the musical terms used in the Scriptures was intended to apply to this larger harp.
The Nebel, or Psaltery, was a species of Dulcimer.
The Asor;—When David sang of an “instrument of ten strings,” he referred to the asor, which is supposed to have been a species of lyre, with ten strings, and played with a plectrum, a short stick of wood, or bone, usually black, with which the strings were struck.
The Timbrel or Taboret, was a small hand drum, or tambourine, probably of varying shapes and sizes; the hand drum was derived from Egypt, for it was customary for women to dance in that country entirely to the rhythm of drums and tambourines; the military hand drum had the shape of a small keg with parchment over the ends; that is to say, the diameter at the middle was greatest.
The Organ;—as before stated this was simply a set of pandean pipes.
Cymbals;—there seems to be no doubt that the Hebrews possessed various instruments of percussion of divers shapes.
Trumpets;—apart from the ram’s horn, and other curved horns which were called trumpets, there also existed a straight trumpet of more artificial construction. “Make thee, two trumpets of silver: of one piece shalt thou make them.” Numbers ix:2.
It is probable that the sistrum, the guitar, and pipes, were also possessed by this nation; about nineteen instruments are mentioned in the scriptures, but some of the meanings are so dubious that they have been translated by the general terms, harp, lute, psaltery, timbrel, etc.
How many different opinions are held, upon Hebrew music may be judged from the fact that the word “Selah,” which was probably a musical term, and is found in so many of the psalms, has given rise to the most vehement and fruitless controversy. Hesychius says that it means a charge of rhythm, in the chanting; Alberti denies this, as it sometimes occurs at the end of a psalm, where certainly no change is possible: some have suggested that it meant a modulation from one key to another; Forkel, however, thinks that the Hebrews were not so far advanced in the science of music as to understand modulation, but Fetis upsets Forkel by remarking that the modulations, though not harmonic, might have been purely melodic, by the introduction of tones, foreign to the key, as occurs in many eastern melodies.
Herder says also “the Orientals even of our day, love monotonous chants, which Europeans find doleful, and which at certain passages or phrases, change totally and abruptly their mode and time: the word Selah was without doubt an indication of such a change.” The last part of this opinion, Fetis sets down as pure hypothesis.
Two ancient Greek versions of the Old Testament give the meaning of the word as “forever,” and as “for all ages.”
Alberti thinks the word is a recapitulation of the chords of the psalm: Rosenmüller proves that this is impossible in some cases.
Augusti thinks it is an expression of joy similar to “Hallelujah.”
David Kimchi thinks it a sign of elevation of the voice; Mattheson and Pfeiffer agree in the opinion that it signifies a ritornella, or short symphony between the verses, to be played by the instruments alone.
Eichhorn thinks it means Da Capo, but Rosenmüller and Gesenius, (the latter treats the matter with great erudition, and his opinion is entitled to respect,) both think that it signifies a rest in the song part, as we might write Tacet.
Gesenius has found almost the only corroborative testimony of the whole controversy in the fact that the grammatical root of the word Selah, is repose, or silence.
La Borde has boldly, not to say audaciously, given a unique interpretation. He says “David invented the art of shading the sounds; the word Selah is equivalent to the Italian word smorzando, extinguished, dying away.” And then he gives a highly colored picture of the beauty and grace of the effects produced, though all that he proves is that he has a little stronger imagination than the others. We must also give the curious opinion of Wolff, who thinks that “Selah” has no sense whatever, and was only added to fill up the metre of a verse.
Several other eminent writers, including Fetis, who gives a full account of this war of opinions,[16] decline to hazard an opinion in so dark a matter.
Another conjectural description of the mode of singing among the ancient Hebrews, is the commentary of Herder on the song of Deborah and Barak, Judges v.; he says, “probably verses 1-11 were interrupted by the shouts of the populace; verses 12-27 were a picture of the battle with a naming of the leaders with praise or blame, and mimicking each one as named; verses 28-30 were mockery of the triumph of Sissera, and the last verse was given as chorus by the whole people.”
One cannot fail to observe some resemblance between this music and the slave music of some sections of the southern states: in the camp-meetings, and religious services, a tune which is well known to all is chosen, and as the spirit moves, often a whole song appropriate to the occasion is improvised. Of some such description must have been Miriam’s song, after the downfall of Pharaoh’s host; she probably chose a tune which was familiar to the people, and improvised, while the people kept the rhythm, or sang refrains.
Of course the element of poetry was immeasurably greater among the Israelites than among the Negroes, but the similarity of improvisation and religious fervor is noticeable.
When Miriam sang, there was as yet no distinctive style of Hebrew music; we must remember that she had obtained an Egyptian education, and that up to David’s time the music was an imitation of the Egyptian school.
The raptures of some commentators as to the exceeding beauty of the music of David, are quite safe, for it is easy to affirm where no one can bring rebutting evidence, but if it partook of the loudness of most ancient and barbarous music,—“Play skillfully, and with a loud noise,” Psalms xxxiii:2—our modern music may after all be some compensation for its utter loss and oblivion.
CHAPTER IV.
ANCIENT GREEK MUSIC.
The mythology of Greek music is too well known, for us to go into any details upon the subject; with this people every thing relating to music, was ennobled and enriched by an applicable legend, or a finely conceived poem. In fact music (mousiké), meant with the Greeks, all the æsthetics, and culture that were used in education of youth, and the strictly musical part of the above training had special names, as harmonia, etc., to designate it.
The subject of Greek music has given rise to more commentary and dispute, than any other in the entire realm of musical history.
The mode of notation employed was peculiar; it consisted in placing the letters of the alphabet in various positions, straight, sideways, etc., and sometimes even, fragments of letters were used.
There are in existence but three authentic Greek hymns[17] with music, viz: hymn to Calliope, to Apollo, and to Nemesis; there is also in existence, some music to the first eight verses of the first Pythian of Pindar, which Athanasius Kircher claimed to have discovered in a monastery near Messina, but the best authorities reject this as spurious. The copies of the above hymns are not older than the fifteenth century, and have probably been much perverted by the ignorance, or half-knowledge of the transcribers, who seeing a fragment of a letter, would restore the whole letter, or change its position, thereby greatly altering the character of the music.
To this fact is to be attributed the dense fog, which has prevented us from fully understanding the ancient Greek music.
On this slight foundation however, learned writers have built an edifice of erudition which consists of countless volumes of pedantry and ingenuity, mixed with a large amount of abuse for those who did not agree with their solution.
As we intend to deal, in these articles, more with curious musical facts than with musical systems, we will dismiss this branch of the subject entirely by referring the reader to the best representative works of this monument of research, which are Chappell’s History of Music, vol. I., Ambros’ Geschichte der Musik, vol. I., pp. 218-513, Fetis’ Histoire Generale de la Musique, vol. III., pp. 1-418. Kiesewetter, and Drieberg also have written profoundly on the subject. These will give the different opinions held in the matter.
The scale of the Greeks, is however, definitely known, and was similar to our minor scale, although it contained no sharp seventh. Play on any pianoforte the notes, A B C D E F G, and you have played the Greek one octave diatonic scale.
The nomenclature was however different, and some commentators have forgotten to explain the fact, that what the Greeks called the highest note, meant the longest string of the instrument, and consequently the lowest tone.
Another fact which has given rise to much controversy is the pitch of the lyre or phorminx; it seems that the mode of tuning this instrument varied in Greece at different epochs, and even in different localities at the same epoch.[18]
The word harmony (harmonikē) has also been misunderstood, as it does not mean harmony in our sense of the word, but the arrangement and rhythm of a melody. Whether the Greeks understood harmony or not, in the modern sense, has been the chief cause of the before-mentioned “Battle of the Books.”
The lowest note of the scale was called Proslambanomenos, and had not the importance of the middle note, called Mese, which really became the principal note of the scale.
The Greek music practically, was very like our present minor modes, and the singing of some young Greek of two thousand years ago, would probably have sounded pleasantly to modern ears.
The earliest Greek scale had but four tones, and was probably used to accompany hymns. It might still suffice for many church chants.[19] People seldom think how much music can be manufactured from three or four notes; Rousseau gave a practical illustration of it in the last century, by writing a not very monotonous tune, on three notes. But an instrument founded on so few notes might also have been used to give the pitch to the voice in reciting, or half-singing a poem. We must remember that the poems of Greece were chanted in public; and even in modern days, orators pitch their voices higher than in conversation, when addressing an assembly.
Early Grecian music experienced its first real onward movement, when Egypt was thrown open to foreigners. Up to the reign of Psammetichus I., (664 B. C.) Egypt was closed to aliens, exactly as China has been closed in days not long gone by. Psammetichus first opened his kingdom to the Greeks, and Pythagoras learned enough in Egypt to greatly change the character of Greek music. Though some Greek writers with an excess of zeal, have made the statement that he taught the Egyptians, by bringing to them the seven-stringed lyre. Considering the fact that the Egyptians had as many as twenty-two strings, the claim is rather audacious.
But what placed the Greeks in advance of all other ancient nations, in music, was the fact that they early recognized its rank as a fine art.
CHAPTER V.
THE PUBLIC GAMES OF GREECE.
The public games of Greece in which music and musical contests were a feature, gave to the art a decided impetus, for when competition began, musical study must have preceded.
The Olympic games were celebrated at Olympia every fifth year, in July, and lasted five days. They were dedicated to Zeus (Jupiter), and were established (according to some re-established, having existed in Mythical ages) by Iphitos, king of Elis, in the ninth century before the Christian era.
For a long time none but Grecians were allowed to compete in them. If there existed internal war in Greece at the time, an armistice was effected during the games. The contestants were trained for ten months previous to the contest. The prizes awarded to the victors were wreaths of wild olive twigs, cut from a sacred tree which grew in the consecrated grove of Olympia, and the victors were presented to the spectators, while a herald proclaimed the name of each, his father, and his country.
The first day opened with a sacrifice to Zeus, after which a contest of trumpeters took place. This contest was not regularly instituted until 396 B. C., but after that period it was not interrupted. There are still annals left of the most celebrated contestants; Archias of Hybla, gained the prize for three successive Olympiads; and Athenæus says that Herodorus of Megara, a most famous trumpeter, gained the prize ten times in succession. Pollux says he gained seventeen victories, which is well-nigh incredible, but both agree in saying that this remarkable performer was in one year crowned in the four great sacred games, the Olympian, Pythian, Nemean, and Isthmian. His music was so loud that the audience were sometimes stunned by the concussion. Other anecdotes of this wonderful trumpeter remain. He was of giant stature, and slept upon a bear skin, in imitation of Hercules and the lion skin. He could play upon two trumpets at the same time, and when he did so, the audience had to sit farther away than usual, on account of the immense sound. His performances were of great use in military affairs. Once at the siege of Argos, the troops were giving way when Herodorus began to sound his two trumpets, which so inspired the warriors of Demetrius, that they returned to the fight and won the victory.
The trumpet cannot really be classed among Grecian musical instruments, as it was rather a signal than any thing else. It was blown when heralds made any proclamation, in military movements, etc., and seems to have been appreciated only by the loudness with which it was blown.
It was also frequently played at the Olympic games during the horse-races, to inspirit the animals.[20]
In fact at the public games the music had a most noisy character, and trumpeters were proud of bursting a blood vessel, or otherwise injuring themselves by excess of zeal.
The contest of trumpeters was the only musical (?) one of these games, though flute-playing took place on the fourth day, when according to Krause,[21] the pentathlon took place. This was a set of five athletic games; leaping, running, throwing spear, throwing discus, and wrestling. Here flute-playing also served to animate the contestants. The flutes too, considering the purpose for which they were used, must have been played in a violent manner.
Harmonides, a young flute-player, on his first appearance at the games wishing to astonish the audience, began by giving such a tremendous blast on his instrument, that he expired on the spot, probably having burst a blood vessel, and having literally blown himself out with his first note. The audience was probably astonished.
The sacred games next in importance, were the Pythian. These games were at first celebrated by the Delphians, every ninth year, but about 590 B. C., the Amphyctions (another Grecian tribe) obtained the control of them, and instituted them every fifth year. They took place on a plain near Delphi, and were in honor of Apollo, commemorating his victory over the serpent Python; the good principle defeating the evil principle, as in Egyptian, and most other mythologies. Pindar’s odes have celebrated the victories at some of these games. Being dedicated to Apollo, it was but natural that music, (under this head, the Greeks understood most of the accomplishments of the muses,) should play the most important part.
Religious poems were chanted, with an accompaniment upon the lyre or phorminx. The first poet-musicians who gained the prize were Chrysothemis,[22] Philammon, an earlier poet-musician than Homer, and Thamyris. According to Pausanius, all these singers were probably priests of Apollo. The Amphyctions first established prizes for songs with flute accompaniment, and for flute solos. Cephallon obtained a prize for songs accompanied by Kithara, a small lyre, and Echembrotus one for songs with flute, while Sacadas of Argos took the prize three consecutive times for his flute solos. After him came Pythocritus of Sicyon, who won the prize at these games six consecutive times, which covers an interval of thirty years of triumphs.
Athletic sports also were introduced later. The prizes were, as at Olympia, wreaths only.
The use of the flute both as solo instrument, and as accompaniment, was however, soon abolished, it being used as funeral music, and for dirge playing among the Amphyctions, and therefore having too many melancholy associations to allow of its use in these festive games. Finally solos on the small lyre (kithara) were allowed prizes.
It is said that at one of these contests a flute player gained the prize in a singular manner. He was playing the straight flute, when the reed in the mouth-piece became closed by accident, on which he instantly changed the position of his instrument, and played it as an oblique flute; his presence of mind was rewarded, by winning the prize.
The Nemean games were commemorative of the slaying of the Nemean lion, by Hercules. There was no musical contest in the games, but flutes were used, to stimulate the athletes, and were probably allowed prizes.
The Isthmian games celebrated upon the Isthmus of Corinth, whence their name, were similar to the Nemean; music not being of any importance in them.
In Chios there has been found a stone on which the names of the victors in the musical contests are inscribed. From it we learn that prizes were given for reading music at sight, rhapsodizing, accompanying the voice with a small harp played with the hand, and accompanying with kithara played partially with the fingers of the left hand, and partially with a plectrum held in the right hand.
The lesser games of Greece were also not inconsiderable. The great festival of Athens was the Panathenæa, held in honor of Athene the patron goddess of the city. It was established according to tradition, about 1521 B. C., and was at first intended for the citizens of Athens only. It took place about the middle of July.
At the later Panathenæa, the people of all Attica used to attend. There seem to have been two divisions of this festival, a greater and lesser Panathenæa, the former being celebrated every four years, the latter every year. The lesser Panathenæa consisted of recitations, gymnastics, musical competitions, and a torch race in the evening, the whole concluding with the sacrifice of an ox. The greater, was even more extensive. The Homeric poems were sung, dramatic representation took place, magnificient processions marched to the temple of Athene Polias, and the whole city was full of mirth and gayety. The prizes were jars of oil made from the sacred tree on the Acropolis.
Pericles, (fifth century B. C.,) gave to music a greater prominence than ever before in these games, by erecting a structure especially for musical entertainments and contests, the Odeum, in the street of the Tripod; this edifice was very well adapted in its acoustical properties, for according to Plutarch’s description, the roof was dome-shaped, or nearly so, and vast audiences could hear solos distinctly.
In Sparta, in the month of August (Carneios) there were celebrated the great Carneian games, which lasted nine days. In these games musical contests also took place, and dances of men, youths, and maidens, as well as gymnastic exercises. Sparta also had a special building for musical purposes. Theodore of Samos erected the Skias, a building for musical uses, in the market place. Sparta was in fact, the cradle of Grecian music.
In the early days, songs were learned and transmitted down, from mouth to mouth. Homer’s poems were preserved in this manner for five hundred years. In Sparta however, they first began to crystallize into form and regularity. Yet strange to say, Sparta gave birth to no musicians of eminence, even though she was so long the arbiter, and director of Grecian musical taste.[23]
Terpander of Lesbos, one of the founders of Greek music, came early to Sparta. He is reported to have gained the prize at the first musical contest of the Carneian games, B. C. 676, and is said to have studied in Egypt, but he certainly could not have done so before his first advent in Sparta, for Egypt was at that date still closed to foreigners, and had even guards set to prevent the landing of strangers by the sea.[24]
Terpander gained the Pythian crown four times in succession, and was the most famous poet-musician of his time. His fame spread through all Greece, but it was especially in Sparta that he won renown, for his high, manly and earnest strains awoke a sturdy and manly response in the bosoms of the rugged Spartans. It is probable however that at the first visit to Sparta, his songs were not so powerful. At that time, (676 B. C.) he probably sang chiefly the poems of Homer. We say sang, but it is not even sure that they had, what we should call a tune, attached to them; they were possibly recited in a musical pitch of voice, which could not be called even a chant.
There was at this time, little music among the Spartans, and that of rather martial, or else of religious character; as for example we learn that the Spartans marched into battle to the sound of many kitharas, as did also the Cretans, and it was supposed to have been in honor of the Gods, that they did so; though Thucydides, more practically, says that it was only that they might move forward regularly and in time. On Terpander’s second visit to Sparta, he changed the entire mode of Spartan music, and enlarged it. The return happened in this wise:—
At the beginning of the second Messenian war Sparta was in great perplexity. Messenia by alliances with other tribes threatened destruction from without. Within all was dissension; agriculture prostrate, antagonism between those who had lost their lands through the wars and those who possessed them, a demand for a new distribution of land, and prospective anarchy. At this juncture, the Oracle of Delphi was consulted, and gave reply that “discord would be quelled in Sparta when the sound of Terpander’s harp was heard there,” and told the Spartans, also to call the counsellor from Athens. So Terpander was sent for, and also the counsellor Tyrtaeus from Athens.
The effect of Terpander’s songs upon the populace on this occasion is described as something remarkable; men burst into tears, enemies embraced each other, and all internal dissension was at an end.[25]
It is recorded therefore, that Terpander with his harp had quelled all dissension in Sparta, but by this anecdote we may see that in what the ancient Greeks called music, the words really played the most important part. To show this yet more clearly, we will here give an instance from later Athenian history where the same power was exerted for a similar purpose. A war between Athens and Megara, for the possession of the island of Salamis, had resulted in such continued disaster to Athens, that the Athenians had left the island to its fate, and it was forbidden upon penalty of death to broach the subject to the public again. Solon however, attired himself as a messenger from the island to the Athenians, and in this character sang a song which roused such a martial spirit, that on the instant a large body of volunteers was formed, who, under Solon, effected its reconquest.
Terpander and Tyrtæus composed most of their songs in march rhythm, and after this the Spartans sang hymns, while marching into battle to the sound of many kitharas, which were afterwards displaced by the more penetrating flute.
Terpander also composed love songs, and banquet songs as well as nomes or hymns, and his choruses were sung at all Spartan festivals and sacrifices, they were taught to Spartan youths and maidens, and all seemed to vie in doing him honor. He had really helped the music of Greece to a higher plane, for it is said that he enlarged the lyre or phorminx from four strings, to seven, and also made improvements in the scale.
Contemporary with this poet-musician was Olympus, who must not however be confounded with an Olympus who lived six hundred years previously, that is, about 1250 B. C. Plato says that the music of Olympus was especially adapted to animate the hearers. Plutarch says that it surpassed in simplicity and effect, all other music. He is said to have composed the air which caused Alexander to seize his arms, when it was sung to him; according to Aristotle his music filled all hearers with enthusiasm. Much relating to Olympus must however be relegated to the land of myths. It has even been doubted whether he ever really existed, though that is carrying scepticism too far.
Among the other characters which existed on the borderland of Greek musical history, may be mentioned Polynestos, and Alcman who brought to Sparta in its full glow, the love song, (Lydian measure). Alcman seems to have been easily aroused to sing of female beauty, and composed some choruses especially for the
“Honey-voiced, lovely singing maidens,”
which were sung by female voices only.
The fragments which remain of Alcman’s verses do not justify the immense fame which he seems to have enjoyed in Greece. Alcman was preceded by Thaletas of Crete, who was sent for by the Spartans 620 B. C. to sing to the Gods, in order that Sparta might be freed from a severe plague, which was then ravaging the state. The plague ceased, and Thaletas for a time stood at the head of all Spartan music. That country as above mentioned, either would not, or could not encourage home talent.
Sacadas of Argos came soon after with a yet more luxurious style, and introduced the flute as an accompaniment to chorus music.
To this foggy period of history, also belongs Tisias of Himera, who made an indelible impression on Greek music. He was the first who regulated the motions of the chorus, and who reduced chorus singing to a settled system; from the fact that at one period of the song, (the epode, or finale) he made the chorus stand quiet, instead of dancing he received the nickname of “Stesichorus.” In some of the works of Stesichorus, one can easily see the germ of the choruses of Æschylus or Sophocles.[26]
If in the ancient Grecian music, the composer, poet, and performer seem to be spoken of in common, the reader must recollect that in those days, all three branches of the art were united in one individual. It will also aid some readers, if we define here what the functions of the Greek chorus were. In the earliest days, the whole chorus simply sang refrains after the solo of some cultivated singer; gradually whole compositions were entrusted to their charge. Pantomimic action probably always existed in connection with their songs, as with almost all ancient singing. Stesichorus first gave them different historical or mythological subjects to act, in a dramatic manner. At a later epoch the chorus entered in a peculiar manner into the action of the drama. They stood upon the stage as interested spectators of the various events; they advised the Protagonist or only individual character[27] as to his course of action, and when some startling incident, a murder for example, had taken place, they would strongly express their feelings, horror, dismay or fear, and thereby intensify the effect upon the audience.
An imitation of the Greek chorus may be found in Schiller’s “Bride of Messina.”
Stesichorus was deservedly honored as the founder of Greek chorus music, and a statue was erected to his memory. Among those next following his era we find Ibycus, a poet-musician attached to the court of Polycrates, tyrant of Samos. This mighty sea king and despot had a considerable liking for music; for we learn also that he kept a choir of beautiful boys, whose duty it was to sing sweet Lydian melodies during his meals. About 580-70 B. C. Alcæus and Sappho became leaders in Grecian musical culture, or poetry, for the two are inseparable. The two poets seem to have formed a mutual friendship. Of Sappho we have remaining an ode to Aphrodite which makes it a matter of regret that the remains of her poetry are so fragmentary.[28] At Mytilene she seems to have gathered around her a large and elegant circle, composed entirely of females to whom she taught poetry and music; in fact her house must have been a musical university for her list of scholars embraces names from all parts of Greece. Ottfried Müller[29] compares her life, surrounded by all these fair followers, with that of Socrates surrounded by the flower of Athenian youth.
Sappho’s career is the more wonderful from the fact, that among the ancient Greeks, the entire mission of woman was supposed to consist in rearing her family, attending to the first education of her sons, who at an early age passed into the hands of their teachers, teaching housewife’s duties to her daughters, and attending to them herself; according to Pericles, that woman was most to be prized of whom no one spoke, either in praise or blame.
Sappho’s poetry had great effect even on the rough character of Solon, the law giver; hearing for the first time one of her songs, which his nephew sang to him, he vehemently expressed the wish that he might not die before he had committed to memory so beautiful a song.
Sappho’s name is almost the only female one in the whole realm of ancient Greek music, which was pure, noble, and uncontaminated. Latterly, even her character has been assailed, but the accusation has been refuted by Herr Welcker, of Bonn, (in the Rheinisches Museum,) Ottfried Müller and other learned writers. After her, music as practiced by the female sex, was handed over to the most degraded, (the Hetarae) and seems to have borrowed from Egypt many lowering qualities,[30] including dancing girls and ribald songs.
Anacreon of Teos, introduced into Greece the light, airy songs, in praise of woman, wine, etc., “It is no great stretch of fancy,” says a thoughtful writer,[31] “to imagine his songs as expressing our modern Allegretto Grazioso, Andante Scherzoso, etc.”
From precisely this point however (the lack of signs of expression in all Greek music) another writer[32] deduces the opinion that Greek music must always have been in a crude state, and by no means of the beauty which some enthusiasts ascribe to it.
CHAPTER VI.
THE PHILOSOPHERS, AND GREEK SOCIAL MUSIC.
From the sixth century B. C., music may date its entrance into the positive sciences, for Pythagoras, born about 570 B. C., first began to analyze music from a scientific point of view, and to ascertain how far it rested upon natural laws. Pythagoras is said to have been the son of a wealthy merchant. He was as before mentioned, one of the earliest Greeks in Egypt, and after having been instructed for some time by the priests, had at last the honor of being admitted into the Egyptian college of priesthood.
After remaining in Egypt twenty-two years, he spent some time among the Chaldeans, and at last returned, full of wisdom, to his native Samos. But here the sensuality of the court of Polycrates was so little to his taste, that he departed to the city of Croton in southern Italy, where he founded the order of Pythagoreans.
With the order itself, we have little to do, but when we consider that its founder was the pioneer of scientific musical research, its proceedings become in some degree interesting.
“All is number and harmony” was the fundamental maxim of this philosopher,[33] and he sought for the laws in music, therefore, in nature. This led to some mistakes of course, for the laws of nature had not been made clear enough for thorough guidance, in that era. It is said that Pythagoras one day, passing by a blacksmith’s shop heard the blows of different hammers sound the fundamental, fourth, fifth, and octave, and entering, he weighed the different hammers, thereby obtaining the proportion of these intervals to each other.
This story has been proved to be a silly myth, for the proportions given are wrong. He should have weighed the anvils not the hammers, and anvils of such difference in size as would be requisite to produce these intervals would not be seen in blacksmiths’ shops.
Pythagoras taught that not the ear, but mathematics, should be the guide in music. He held that the universe was constructed on a musical plan, and was probably the first to introduce among the Greeks the theory of the music of the spheres. The fact that man could not hear this music,[34] was explained by the statement that the sounds were either too deep or too high for our ears. The reasoning was plausible enough, and has been confirmed by science, for sounds of less than sixteen vibrations in a second are inaudible on account of their depth, and those exceeding 38,100 vibrations in a second are too high for the human ear to perceive.[35] Starting from this premise Pythagoras formed a scale founded on the seven planets, as known to the astronomers of that time. This was its form:
| Moon. | Mercury. | Venus. | Sun. | Mars. | Jupiter. | Saturn. |
| E | F | G | A | B | C | D |
The sun was Mese, the controlling middle note, around which all the others circled.
The order of Pythagoreans were held together by the firmest ties, and Pythagoras has been, not inaptly, compared in this capacity with Ignatius Loyola. His adherents, who numbered about three hundred were, in most cases, wealthy and noble, and the power of the society was always upon the side of aristocracy.
Pythagoras was very select in the admission of members, exercising great vigilance lest improper or undesirable persons should be allowed to enter; in this he was guided not a little by his skill in Physiognomy. The initiates had, it is said, to pass through a most rigorous and lengthy period of probation, they were obliged to maintain silence for five years,[36] and in other ways had their powers of endurance, severely tested. After entering the brotherhood,[37] the mode of life was entirely dictated by Pythagoras. The members were clothed in pure white. They were forbidden all animal food, and beans. They had different grades of advancement among themselves, the highest being undoubtedly instructed in a purer religion than that which obtained around them, though outwardly they conformed with the religion of the populace. Mathematics, music, and astronomy were studied, and gymnastics regularly practised.
Playing upon the lyre was obligatory, and none of the order went to sleep at night, without having previously purified his soul, and set it in harmony through music; and at rising in the morning, the strength for the day’s labors and duties, was sought for in the same manner. Pythagoras wrote many songs as correctives to undue excitement and passion; he is said once to have brought to reason a young man beside himself with jealousy and wine, by the power of a song.
Clinias, a Pythagorean, took up his harp and played whenever any passion arose in his breast; to a person who asked him the reason of the action, he replied, “I play to compose myself.”
While the music of Terpander, Olympus, etc., was intended for high state and religious purposes, that of Pythagoras was intended to bring the art into domestic and inner life. Choruses were, however, also chanted by his followers, and were adapted to various occasions, as for example, at the opening of Spring, the scholars would gather in a circle around the harper, who played the accompaniment, and sing pæans of welcome to the opening season. Other philosophers also allowed music to enter into their teachings, though not to so great a degree, but almost all of them understood enough of music to form an opinion.
Plato seemed decidedly to object to instrumental music, for he says “the using of instruments without the voice is barbarism and charlatanry.”[38]
Aristotle was disposed to allow more freedom, for he spoke of music as a delicious pleasure, either alone (instrumental) or accompanied with voice; but in instrumental solos he admitted the lyre and kithara only, and rejected the flute, which he thought not to be a moral instrument, and only capable of inflaming the passions.
The philosophers as a class were really not very advantageous to musical progress, for they fought tooth and nail for the old school of music.
They sought only moral effects by the means of great simplicity, and any intricate innovations displeased them; but in spite of their resistance the art began to improve.
The Skolion, or banquet song had a great influence on the music of Athens. At the banquet, or symposium, the harp was passed from hand to hand, and each person who made any pretence to education or good breeding was expected to be able to improvise or at least to sing a good skolion.
There was certainly in the time of Pericles, music enough to choose from, for there is much evidence that the Athenians of that day possessed an extensive library of music;[39] and it was in this era, the early part of the fifth century B. C., that the social music reached its height.
Themistocles once being present at a banquet had the harp (kithara) presented to him, and was desired to sing his skolion; full of confusion and shame he was obliged to acknowledge his ignorance of music, and we can judge of the value in which the art was held, by the sneers and jests which were pointed at him. At last stung to the quick by the sharp witticisms, he retorted, “it is true I do not know how to play the kithara, but I know how to raise an insignificant city to a position of glory.”
The skolion was a really poetical and worthy song, and must not be confounded with those lower and vulgar songs which were sung to the guests by hired jesters and buffoons.[40]
The subjects of the skolion were sometimes of rather a lofty style; praise of heroes,[41] calls to the gods, rules of life, often joyous, sometimes sedate; but in all of them a less exact rhythm and style were allowed than in other compositions. A few have been preserved to our day; one begins, “my kingdom is my spear and sword,” another composed by Chilon contains the following beautiful thought; “Gold is rubbed upon the touchstone, and thus is tested, but the soul of man is tested by the gold, if it be good or evil.” But the kithara, although used in the skolion, was not the only instrument of the fashionable young men of ancient Athens, for the flute found great favor among them; in fact flute playing grew to be quite a mania for a time. It was part of the musical education of youth. Most of the teachers of the instrument came from Bœotia.
Flute players of ability were held in high honor; the art of flute playing received such an impetus that different flute schools were established in Athens; even rival methods of playing and teaching existed.[42]
Flutes were played in almost every place where music was required, to accompany hymns, at worship, and even sometimes the Greeks represented the combat of Apollo and the Python on this instrument, with kithara accompaniment; this may be considered as the earliest “song without words” in existence.
The ancients had some other attempts at tone pictures. Once an Athenian kitharist played to Dorian, a representation of a storm at sea; on being asked how he liked it, that ancient wit answered, “I have seen a better storm in a pot of boiling water.” This would make the origin of the phrase “a tempest in a teapot,” over two-thousand years old.
Sometimes all Athens was divided into cliques for this or that flute player; and the price paid for flutes were appalling, some being sold as high as three thousand dollars, many flute-makers becoming immensely wealthy.
It received a slight check however, when Alcibiades, about 409 B. C., declined to play it, alleging as a reason, that it spoilt the shape of the mouth. Alcibiades stood at the head of the fashion as well as of the state, and after such a dictum the beau monde of Athens laid aside the flute; but some ingenious flute maker took alarm, and invented a mouth-piece which obviated the difficulty, and which Alcibiades found more to his taste, on which it resumed its place in popular favor.
In Sparta it led the chorus, and was the military instrument, but the Spartans disdained to make it a study, and only felt bound, at this era, to discriminate between good and bad music.
In some Ionian cities, the human victims were led to the sacrifice, or to their execution to the sound of flutes; and this dead march (called the Nome of Kradias) was said to be peculiarly depressing.
Plutarch makes a warm defence of the flute, against the criticisms of Plato and Aristotle. “The flute” he says “cannot be spared from the banquet, leads the hymns to the gods, and with its rich and full tones spreads peace and tranquillity throughout the soul;” but we must remember that this was written at a much later epoch, when flute playing became more universal than in the days of Pericles, and when the instrument had probably been altered and improved.
Flute players sometimes made large fortunes. Nicomachus was known for his wealth in jewels acquired by his skill on the instrument.
Lamia was one of the most famous of Athenian flutists. This female was celebrated through Greece and Egypt for her skill, as well as for her wit and beauty. The latter was not overrated, for a portrait of her has been discovered in a signet, which amply confirms the accounts of her charms. Although born in Athens, she went early to Alexandria, in Egypt, to study her art; somewhat as our modern musicians go to Italy or Germany. She was received with open arms at the Egyptian court, and was detained for a long time. Captured by Demetrius Polyorcetes, she soon succeeded in conquering her conqueror, and on her return to Athens, a temple was built to her, and she was worshipped under the name of Venus Lamia. Her powerful “friend” Demetrius, may have had something to do with this deification, but at all events, there were still left some Greeks (Lysimachus for example) who had the manliness to protest against the desecration, for the character of Lamia was far different from that of Sappho.
It was not flute players only who earned immense salaries, for we learn that Amabœus the kitharist, received nearly one thousand dollars for each performance, and all flute-players, and kitharists, were welcomed and honored at the courts of Greece, Egypt and Asia.
Ptolemy Philadelphus gave a large musical festival in Alexandria, Egypt, about 280 B. C., at which six hundred skilled singers, kitharists and flutists assisted; there have been larger festivals in point of numbers in ancient times, but few, where so much educated talent assisted. Ptolemy Physcon[43], an amiable Egyptian ruler, 146 B. C., who married his brother’s wife, killed his baby nephew, or step-son on the wedding day and afterwards married his niece, or step-daughter (for he made the relationship very mixed) winding up by killing all the progeny as finale, seems to have patronized and enjoyed music, in spite of his family troubles.
Ptolemy Auletes, 80 B. C., was known as the “flute lover,” and though king of Egypt was yet a very skilful virtuoso on this instrument.
We must not omit here to mention a species of Greek music which was an outgrowth of the sacred games.
We have already stated how great the honor of achieving a victory at these games was considered; and it was very natural that when a whole city celebrated with joy the triumph of one of its sons, the poets would also sing in high strains, the praises of the successful hero. These poems soon became a necessary adjunct to the festivities, and may be said to form a school of their own. They were chanted by a chorus under the direction of the composer; and although at first they may have been spontaneous, yet afterwards they became entirely a matter of purchase.
When a young man had carried off the victor’s wreath, he would frequently send word at once to some famous poet-musician, to write a chorus in his honor. Sometimes the city itself would order the poem, and in Athens about 540 B. C., statues began to be erected to the victors who were natives of that city.[44] Simonides, born about 556 B. C., may be regarded as the founder of this style of composition, and he certainly was the founder of the custom of receiving pay for laudatory verses.
His contemporaries sneered greatly at him for this, and Pindar proves him to have been very avaricious, but it really seems to have been no more than just that the poet should have been compensated for his exertions, as he not only had to write the poetry and music for the occasion, but also to drill the chorus and lead the singing.
The ceremony of praise to the victor was either celebrated at the conclusion of the games, upon the spot, or upon his return home; sometimes also in after years, to keep alive the remembrance of past triumphs.
The festivities were both religious and social. They began with a procession to the temple, after which sacrifices were offered, either in the temple, or in the victor’s house; this was followed by a banquet, to which came the poet with his chorus, and intoned the triumphal ode, the latter being considered the greatest event of the occasion.[45]
Simonides seems to have been in the market for all kinds of Epinikia, or triumphal odes. Leophron of Rhegion, having won a race with mules at one of these games, ordered a chorus on the subject from the poet; Simonides felt a little indignant at the proposal and replied, curtly “I don’t sing about mules,” but Leophron being very anxious in the matter, offered a large price, upon which Simonides reconsidered his determination, and wrote the ode. It began by saluting the mules in an ingenious manner, only noticing one side of their ancestry,—“Hail! oh ye daughters of the stormy footed horse.”
Simonides was not wholly, however, in this lower line of poetry; he often competed in public musical, or poetical contests, and won fifty-six oxen and tripods by such means. Even at eighty years of age he added another to his lengthy list of victories. He was also considered as very learned, and was sometimes reckoned among the philosophers.
One of his chief competitors at Athens, was Lasus of Hermione, who was a practical and theoretical musician of some eminence.
Among the works of Lasus, there are some which are curiously constructed. In his hymn to Diana, and in the Centaurs, the letter S (sigma) is entirely avoided. The flute-players who accompanied the choruses greatly disliked the hissing sound of S. as it did not blend easily with their playing, and it was this fact which probably led Lasus to so curious a style of poetry.
Among the scholars of Lasus was Pindar, (born in the spring of 522 B. C.,) who came from a noble Theban family. Pindar’s parents were musical, and there were several flute-players in his family, but he soon became far more than a mere flute-player. He came to Athens, to study music, at a very early age, for after his return to Thebes he began a further course of studies under Corinna and Myrtis, two famous poetesses, then in Bœotia, all of which was done before his twentieth year.
He strove in public contests with the two latter, but always unsuccessfully; Corinna defeated him five times, which result, Pausanius thinks, may have been partly due to her personal charms.
Corinna once offered to beautify Pindar’s early efforts with mythological allusions, but on his bringing her a poem, the first six verses of which touched on every part of Theban Mythology, she smiled and said: “One must sow seed by handsfull, not by bagsfull.”
Pindar’s poetic career began very early, for at twenty years old he wrote his first Epinikion (triumphal ode), in honor of a youth of the tribe of Aleuads.[46] His services were soon sought for throughout all Hellas; for although he imitated Simonides in writing for hire, yet his muse was unquestionably a nobler one, and his Epinikia bear an air of heartiness which seems to be unfeigned. His songs were bolder and truer, and not altogether composed of flattery, and he seems to have been an eye-witness of many of the triumphs which he describes.
He also was engaged as poet to Hiero, of Syracuse, Alexander, (son of Amyntas of Macedonia,) Theron of Agrigentum, Arcesilaus, King of Cyrene, and for several free states; with the two former he was an especial favorite, and yet his position never seemed that of a parasite, or a courtier, for he told them the truth bluntly when occasion demanded. His life was chiefly spent in the courts of his various royal friends. He once resided at the court of Hiero, at Syracuse, for the space of four years.
He died at the advanced age of eighty years.
The names of Simonides and Pindar may be considered as the greatest in this branch of Greek music and poetry; and although the subjects were of local interest only, yet Pindar has invested them with such beautiful imagery that he has shown us (to alter the phrase of an ancient,) that it is better to be a great man in a small art, than a small man in a great one.
CHAPTER VII.
GREEK THEATRE AND CHORUS.
Among the many institutions which contributed to that polished civilization which was the glory of ancient Greece, none were higher in aspirations, or more prolific in results, than the Tragedies and Comedies which were at certain intervals presented in the Theatre at Athens. The Athenians were by this agency, brought to a cultivated discrimination in music and poetry, and as we shall see later, the choruses being chosen from the body of the people, and demanding an amount of musical ability in the members, caused the study of music to become almost a necessity to all.[47]
In its early days the Drama, (if it be worthy of the name,) must have been a mere masquerading on any raised platform. It had its origin in the festivities of Dionysius (Bacchus), for at the earliest Dionysian festivals, the populace smeared their faces in wine lees, and thus disguised, sang choruses in honor of this god of mirth.
In later times, linen masks were substituted, but only in the days of Thespis, did the art assume some regular shape.
Comedy may be said to have arisen about 562 B. C., when Susarion and Dolon travelled around, caricaturing the vices and follies of their time, from a rude scaffold.
The first Tragedy was acted in Athens, by Thespis, from a wagon, in the year 535 B. C. In the same year Thespis received a goat as reward for playing “Alcestis” at Athens. Goats were frequently given as rewards for this kind of composition, and the word Tragedy is derived by some, from the words Tragos, a goat, Odé, a song, literally a “goat-song.”
The earliest attempt at dramatic action, with a plot, or incident to give it connection, was the representation of the gift of the grape to mankind, by Dionysius; this required three dramatis personae, therefore Thespis changed his linen mask three times.
Solon was not well pleased with the new art; striking his stick upon the ground he said: “If this sort of thing were allowed and praised, it would soon be found in the market-place;” and to Thespis who was singing a recitation in the character which he was acting, he said: “Are you not ashamed to lie so?”
Solon had probably forgotten that when he aroused the Athenians to the reconquest of Salamis, he had assumed the character of a herald from the island. Solon had predicted right however, the drama became the most cherished institution of Greece; even in its earliest stages, the state fostered it, and it always attracted the peons for it was both a religious, and popular enjoyment.
The sons of Pisistratus did much in these days to encourage and stimulate it. They arranged contests, rewards, etc., with profusion.
The tragedies of Thespis which he both wrote and acted himself, had but one performer, who, rapidly changing his mask, assumed various different characters in the play. The monotony was soon felt, and in order that dialogues might be used, a chorus was introduced, and then much of the action consisted of duets between the solitary performer, or protagonist, and the chorus.
Phrynicus, a few years later, allowed this single actor to take both male and female characters; but the first thorough representation of tragedy, with its properties carefully attended to, is due to the great tragic poet Æschylus, who instructed the actor and the chorus carefully, and gave attention to thoroughness in its every department so far as then known.
The platform and auditorium were still uncouth wooden structures, until a poetical contest took place between Phrynicus and others, when the benches were so crowded that the whole structure gave way and many were injured; after this the theatres were built of stone.
The performances were still regarded as belonging to religious rites; the seats were at first built in a semi-circle around the altar of Dionysius, and the theatre never became, as with us, an every-day matter, but was only used at certain Dionysian festivals, which occurred about three times each year. Æschylus aimed very much at the terrible in his tragedies, and the poets of this era never sought to “hold the mirror up to nature,” but rather to represent something awe-inspiring and supernatural; therefore the actors had to prepare themselves in many peculiar ways for the stage.
The characters of tragedy were represented as much larger than human beings; to effect this the tragedian wore a kind of stilt-shoes with very high heels, called cothurne, padded out his body in proportion to his height, lengthened his arms by adding an artificial hand, and wore a mask of large size, over his face. The stage upon which he appeared, was also elevated above that on which the chorus stood, and the latter not being artificially enlarged, must have appeared as pigmies, beside these gigantic heroes.
The voice was pitched in a style corresponding to the magnitude of the body; it has been suggested[48] that the large tragic mask may have concealed some contrivance for strengthening the voice; however this may be, it is certain that the voice of the tragedian needed to be metallic, solemn and majestic, and that this, though partly a natural gift, had to be strengthened by long and severe practice, and a vast amount of physical strength was also required to move about naturally when so extremely bundled up.
Lucian in his “De saltatione,” ridicules the tragic actor’s equipment. He says: “What a ridiculous thing it is, to see a fellow stalking around upon a pair of high heeled boots, with a terrible mask on, and a wide gaping mouth, as if he intended to swallow the audience,[49] not to mention the unseemly thickness of breast and body, all of which is done to hide the disproportion between his extravagant height, and his meagre body. Bawling aloud, and writhing his body in a thousand odd gestures;” and then he alludes to the better singing and acting of previous time, “but all sense of fitness is lost,” he concludes, “when Hercules enters singing a mournful ditty, without either lion’s skin or club.”
With regard to the immovable mask, Ottfried Müller supposes that the picture is overdrawn, for facial expression had far less to do with the action of the drama of that day than we imagine; the character had not so many changing emotions to depict, as in modern plays; he says[50] “we can imagine an Orestes, or a Medea, with a set countenance, but never a Hamlet or Tasso.”
We must also remember that the vast extent of the Athenian Theatre, made it next to impossible to distinguish much play of feature, and that the same masks were not worn throughout the play, but changed at any great change of emotion. Oedipus in the tragedy by Sophocles, after misfortunes came upon him, wore a different mask from the one worn in his days of prosperity.
The first plays represented were relative to the history of the gods, and demi-gods, but Phrynicus made a bold innovation by representing contemporaneous events upon the stage. He once ventured to represent the conquest of Miletus, from the Athenians; the effect, according to Herodotus, was startling, the whole audience burst into tears, and the Athenian government forbade any further plays on that subject, prohibited the piece from ever being represented again, and fined the poet heavily.
The contests between rival writers, by simultaneous production of their pieces was a fruitful source of jealousy. Æchylus upon being vanquished in one of these by Sophocles, took his defeat so much to heart, that he left Athens for some years, and took up his residence in Sicily.
In the plays of Thespis and Phrynicus, one actor only was employed; Æchylus enriched his works by adding a second performer, called the Deuteragonist. Sophocles went beyond by adding the third, or Tritagonist, and desired even more, for in his Oedipus in Colonus, he found that four players were a necessity, and wrote the tragedy for that number, but dared not publicly make the innovation, and therefore this great work remained unperformed until after his death.
The above mentioned three performers, had their distinct lines of duty, as we to-day have upon the stage, actors for each kind of character, but the distinction was carried to great height on the ancient stage, for the first actor always came on the stage from the right entrance, the second from the left, and the third from the centre.
The stage of the Athenian theatre was very wide but not deep, and the scenery was very simple; sometimes the house of the chief character was represented, sometimes the tent of a hero, but oftenest the entrance of a palace, before which the entire action of some dramas could take place. They were always exterior views, and no scenes of the interior parts of a dwelling were ever used. The whole active life of the Greek was passed in the open air, so that it seemed more natural to him to represent his characters as living similarly. The female characters were often personated by boys.
There were many expedients to make the following of the action of the play easier to the spectators, in such a vast space; programmes they had not, opera glasses did not exist, so certain formulae took the place of both; when standing on the stage of the Athenian theatre, and facing the audience, the harbor and city of Athens were on the left hand, and Attica on the right; a person entering from the right hand, was therefore presumed to be a stranger who had come over land; and from the left as coming from the city.
The stage also possessed some mechanical effects, such as chariots descending from the skies, birds or even immense beetles soaring aloft carrying persons with them, forms arising from the deep, thunder, lightning, etc. The chorus was an immense help to the audience in following the events of the piece, and we must now describe this characteristic part of Greek tragedy.
The dramatic chorus probably appeared first as Satyrs, the natural attendants of the jolly god Dionysius, in the plays of Thespis, and were then numerous and ill disciplined.
Æchylus lessened the part of the chorus in his tragedies, and they no longer sang an unceasing duet with the Protagonist, for the addition of a second actor, made dialogues possible without their assistance.
The number of Choryeutes (chorus players) in Æchylus’s tragedies was twelve; Sophocles, and Euripides had usually fifteen.
In the tragedy of the “Eumenides” there was a special chorus of fifty members; these were apparelled as the hideous furies of that name, all in black, with angry countenances, snakes twining in their hair, and blood dripping from their eyes; and suddenly these frightful apparitions appeared on the stage: the effect was terrible, women shrieked, and fell in convulsions, and several children died of fright. This event proves that the stage effects were rather realistic in those days.
The chorus was felt as an inconvenience by Euripides, who yet could not break the shackles of custom sufficiently to do away with it.
The arrangement of the chorus was changed when it was transplanted from lyric to dramatic use. The dithyrambic chorus stood around an altar singing hymns, and was wholly occupied with its music: the dramatic chorus stood in the shape of a square, the director taking good care to place the best dressed and handsomest choryeutes in front.
The songs were accompanied with well regulated movements, usually of a stately and dignified character, such as befitted the characters which they were representing, the parts which they performed usually being those of Matrons or Patriarchs, who were best suited to give counsel, comfort, or admonition to the acting characters of the drama.
The formation of choruses, was a matter of legislation. The archon of the city, gave the task of forming the choruses, to some of the wealthy citizens, who had the title of Choregus. This person was not the chorus leader, but the founder of it. He had authority from the archon to receive and select able singers; when he had the organization formed, he engaged a choryphaeus or director, to instruct the members in singing and dancing; he engaged flute-players[51] to accompany them, and paid a regular salary to them all, that of the flute-players being higher than that of the singers. He had to board and lodge them; to supply them with good beverages during rehearsals; to see that they received nutritious food, and such as was good for their voices; to supply them with masks, and costumes for their parts, and other duties all tending to the well being of the chorus. The choregus received no pay for this, but if in a dramatic contest his chorus was adjudged to be the best, he received a wreath as a reward.
Expensive as this honor was, yet it was sought after by all the richer class of Athens, as it was an ostentatious manner of showing their munificence, for the tragic choruses vied with each other in the splendor of their attire, their costumes being superb mantles of gold, and purple. So costly was it that the saying became a well known jest, that the way to ruin a man, was to get him appointed choregus.
The costume of the actors was also rich, without much reference to the part they were playing. Hercules came on the stage in purple and gold instead of with a lion’s skin.
The poet who had just completed a tragedy, and succeeded in obtaining a hearing for it, applied to the Archon for a chorus; that functionary, if he had confidence in the applicant, would assign him one of the choruses which had already been formed and on receiving the permission from the choregus, the composer would set to work, drilling them in their various songs, attitudes, and movements. The director did not use a stick for this purpose, as in modern days, but beat the time with a heavy pair of iron shoes which he put on for the purpose.[52] The chorus of comedy was a less expensive and smaller affair. The music which it sang was also less difficult and grand.
The comedy chorus consisted of twenty-four members, who came on the stage in detachments of six each.
The comedy costumes of both actors and chorus were something like what we are accustomed to see in farce or pantomime; there was something comical and exaggerated about them, which occasioned mirth of itself. The masks were decidedly comic, and usually caricatured the countenance of some public person well known to the audience. The comedy, especially in the older days that of Aristophanes sought to teach the people by holding up to ridicule, all such persons or measures as seemed to the poet worthy of censure; therefore it dealt almost exclusively with the events of the day, and such characters as Alcibiades, Socrates, Cleon, etc., are constantly appearing, and in the most mirth-provoking manner.
It is a matter of regret, however, that Aristophanes wielded so much influence, for he brought it to bear against Socrates, whom he was narrow-minded enough to take as the representative of Sophistry, and raised a popular feeling against him by his comedy of “The Clouds,” in which he attributed the most interested motives to that grand philosopher.
It is unfortunate for Cleon that the caricature of Aristophanes was accepted as a portrait, and he has come down to us only as the noisy impudent demagogue, as portrayed in “The Knights;” yet Cleon must have been a rough and sturdy leader of the populace, to have attained so much power.[53]
Aristophanes was aristocratic in his tendencies, and could not forgive the tanner, for having risen from his humble sphere.
It required much courage however to attack the leader of the democracy, with such boldness. Even the mask makers refused to make the comic mask of Cleon; and when the mask was obtained no actor dared to play the character, so that Aristophanes was obliged to act it himself. Cleon embroiled Aristophanes in three lawsuits in consequence of his audacity.
The choruses of these comedies had sometimes to assume very odd parts, as in the two comedies of the “Birds,” and the “Wasps,” where they represented those creatures. The masks were made to correspond to the character assumed, and in “The Wasps” each man had a short spear or sting, which they sometimes thrust out, or drew in, and the whole chorus would sometimes move about quickly with a buzzing noise. The wasps were a satire upon the swarm of Athenian magistrates.[54]
One is forcibly reminded in these plays of the recent inventions of the French Opera Bouffe.
In the later comedies, private intrigues began to form the plot, and there was no great difference between these and the plays of modern times.
CHAPTER VII.
THE DANCES OF ANCIENT GREECE.
The dances of Greece were of considerable variety, and seem to have been both refined and coarse in their character. The earliest were probable merely military manœuvres, which were performed to songs, or to accompaniment of flute or kithara: or festival dances at the Bacchanalian or Dionysian revels. The chief dances may be classed as the Pyrrhic, the Cordax, and the Emmeleia.
The chorus itself, in very early times, was, in some parts of Greece only used to heighten the effect of a solo song, by its pantomimic dancing.
In Crete, youths and maidens joined hands and danced in a circle; in the centre of such a circle sat the musician, who sang to the accompaniment of a kithara, while the chorus expressed by their actions, not by singing, the various emotions which he chanted.
The Pyrrhic, or war dance, was the pride of all Greece, and all young men studied it.
In Sparta there was a law that all parents should send their sons, above the age of five years, to the public place, to have them instructed in the armed dance; on these occasions they were led by the teachers who made them sing hymns, etc., as they danced. The Pyrrhic was in fact, a mock battle, in four parts, representing the pursuit, overtaking, combat, and capture of the enemy, and was used as drill, to make young men proficient in the use of their weapons; it was accompanied by flute, which instrument was the one which the Greeks thought aroused the energies most.
The origin of the Pyrrhic is given as follows,—When Zeus, (Jupiter) was born, his father Kronos, (Saturn) knowing that he should be dethroned by him sought his life; he was hidden by the Corybantes, who on Kronos’ coming near, fearing that the child would be discovered by its crying, began to dance about, and clashed their swords and shields, thus drowning its voice and saving its life.
Dancing was equal, and often combined, with singing, and was held in the highest estimation by the upper classes, and even the philosophers of ancient Greece; though of course only in its higher branches, the lower being usually abandoned to paid performers, as we to-day draw a wide distinction between a fashionable ball-room dance, and a ballet, though both are called dancing.
Skill in dancing, was a most envied accomplishment, for it meant both grace, and the talent of expressing all emotions without words.
Lucian[55] says the real art of the dance is to express an action, and gives a long list of mythological and historical deeds which were suited to representation. “The dancer” he says “must understand history, mythology, rhetoric,” etc.
One person performed the whole dance, no matter how many characters were included in the action, and therefore he had to change his dress sometimes with much rapidity. The Proteus of the fables, is imagined to have been only a dancer skilled in sudden changes.
The philosophers not only praised, but practised the art. Plato led a chorus of dancing boys; and considered those to be rough, uncouth churls who disliked so pleasant a gift of the gods.[56]
Alcibiades danced in public, arrayed in great splendor. Sophocles was a celebrated dancer, and leader of dancing; while yet a boy, after the Greek victory at Salamis, he is said to have danced (according to some, naked) before the trophies.
Socrates often entertained his guests with dancing, and studied it himself at an advanced age.[57]
Exact information respecting the dance is lacking, some commentators deeming it to have been very like our modern ballet, others maintaining that there was a vast difference; Czerwinski and Wieland hold the former opinion, and to all appearance justly. Some erudite writers have endeavored to give the most circumstantial accounts of the ancient manner of dancing.
Meibomius, one of the earliest writers on this subject, endeavored to dance an ancient Greek dance to an ancient Greek tune, before the court of Sweden, and Scaliger in the sixteenth century danced the Pyrrhic dance fully armed, before the Emperor Maximilian;[58] both assumed far too much knowledge in the matter.
There were undoubtedly numerous dancing schools, and possibly also some set figures prescribed in certain dances, but these figures had no names attached to them, and cannot be determined with certainty. The time was marked as in chorus, by a leader, tapping on the floor with heavy iron shoes. There are indications that a dance similar to the Virginia reel, and other contra dances were known to them; also a dance which resembled the game of “follow-my-leader,” where all imitated the postures and gestures of a leader.
Many variations were allowed; Cleisthenes having promised the hand of his daughter to the most successful dancer among her lovers, Hippoclides, of Athens, tried an innovation on the usual style; having danced the Emmeleia, or tragic dance successfully, he ordered the attendants to bring him a table, upon which he sprang, and standing on his head gesticulated with his legs. Cleisthenes indignant at this new departure, exclaimed “Oh son of Tisander you have undanced your marriage;” Cleisthenes caring more for his skill than for his marriage, replied “that is perfectly immaterial to me.”
The Emmeleia, was the stately dance belonging to tragedy, and was the one most practised by the poets of that time, as they were often obliged to teach it to the chorus, thus adding the business of dancing master, to their already numerous duties.
The Sicinis was a dance of demi-gods, and was suited to the immense figure of the heroes of tragedy, already described. There was also a dance representing Theseus wandering about in the labyrinth, the figures of which must have been very twisted and irregular.
There was a species of dancing at banquets and revels, by paid female performers, at which the shape and form of the dancer were as lavishly displayed as in the modern ballet.[59]
The Cordax, or comic dance was throughout vulgar and unseemly, and no Athenian could dance it unmasked, without bringing down upon himself the reproach of the greatest impudence and immodesty. It was so outrageous that the comic poets often tried to do without it. Aristophanes, in “The Clouds” prides himself that he does not use it in that comedy. The cordax was a dance wherein the utmost vulgarity was not only allowed but demanded.[60]
Lucian in his treatise “de Saltatione” intimates the existence of various other dances which in his day had fallen into desuetude, as the dance of the Cranes; also the Phrygian dance, which was only to be danced when the performers were drunk, and jumped about, with uncouth irregular leaps to the music of the flute.
Lucian also gives a specimen of the raillery of the people, when the dancer was not suited to the part; when a small person undertook to act Hector, they would call out, “we want Hector, not Astyanax.” To a fat dancer, on making a leap they called “be careful, you’ll break the stage;” and to a lean, sickly looking dancer they cried “go home, and nurse yourself, never mind dancing.” Such little remarks are not unsuited to the gamins of the New York or London theatres.
We have dwelt rather long upon Greek Music, Theatre Chorus, and Dancing, but the subject has more than usual interest, as in the Greek art, of all descriptions, we find the seeds from whence has sprung our own.
CHAPTER VIII.
ANCIENT ROMAN MUSIC.
Art-love was not a distinguishing characteristic of the ancient Romans, and we are not astonished therefore, to find them borrowing music from Etruria, Greece, and Egypt; originating nothing, and (although the study was pursued by the Emperors) never finding anything higher in its practice than a sensuous gratification.
In the earliest days of Rome, the inhabitants were exclusively farmers, or warriors, and their first temples were raised to Ceres, or to Mars.
The priests of Ceres came originally from Asia Minor, and were called the Arval Brotherhood; flute-playing was a prominent feature in their rites, and they were all proficient upon that instrument. Their number was limited to twelve.
The worship of Mars was conducted by the Salian priests, whom Numa summoned to Rome, from Etruria. These also used the flute as an accessory to their sacrificial rites. In these primitive days of Rome, much was borrowed from the Etruscans, in style and instruments of music.
The earliest songs of Rome were in praise of Romulus, and told the story of the twin brothers, and the divine origin of the city. They were sung by choruses of boys. Similar songs were sung during meals by the elders, with an accompaniment of flutes; these latter songs being especially directed to the young men and inciting them to be worthy of the deeds of their ancestors.[61]
Under the rule of the Emperors, all these worthy compositions went to decay, and were replaced by a much more degrading school of music. At no time, however, was music considered a necessary part of the education of Roman youth.
There existed in the later days of ancient Rome, some music schools, but the study was far less universally pursued, than in Greece, at the same epoch. The musical course, has been given by Quintilian, as follows,—
Theoretical 1st Arithmetic Physics 2nd Harmony Rhythm Metrics Practical Composition Rhythm Melody Poetry Execution Playing Instruments Singing Dramatic Action
Which makes a rather formidable array, even to modern eyes.
Among the Roman musical instruments, the flute was the most popular, and essentially national. We have already stated, that it was used in the worship of their two chief deities; it was in secular use to a yet greater extent.
This flute (Tibia) was hooped with brass bands, and had an immense resonance. It was used by both sexes, but in public, and on most religious occasions, was played by men.
The frequency with which it was used, made the art of playing it, a most remunerative one, and the flute-players soon formed themselves into a guild, or protective society. This guild had many privileges accorded to it, and existed for a period of some centuries. The “Guild of Dionysian Artists” was a society of later date, and was a Musical Conservatory, Academy, and Agency all in one. It flourished greatly under the patronage of various Roman Emperors, and for a long time supplied singers and actors to the Roman world.
Valerius Maximus[62] has given an anecdote which shows how powerful, and exacting the Guild of flute-players could afford to be.
They were one day excluded from the Temple of Jupiter, where they had been allowed, by ancient custom, to take their meals; upon which the entire Guild left Rome, and went to the village of Tibur near by. This caused great embarrassment, no religious services could be held, and scarce any state ceremony properly conducted. The senate thereupon sent an embassy to induce them to return; in vain, the angry musicians were inflexible. The wily embassadors then called the inhabitants of Tibur to their aid, and these pretended to give a great feast, to welcome the flute-players. At this feast, the musicians were all made very drunk, and while asleep from the effects of their liquor, they were bundled into chariots and driven back to Rome, where all their old privileges were restored, and newer, and greater ones added.
They received the right to give public representations, and spectacles, in Rome; but at these they were always masked, the reason given, being their shame at the manner of their inglorious return to the city.
Flutes were used at funerals, and it appears that at one time the luxury and pomp of Roman obsequies grew so excessive that a law was passed limiting the number of flute-players on such occasions to ten.
Only at one time did the flute disappear from any public worship, and that was when the worship of Bacchus was introduced into Rome. To this rite the kithara was used; but this worship which was somewhat refined, though jovial, among the Greeks, became among the Romans so debauched and uxorious, that it was soon prohibited by law.
The flute was used in combination with other instruments at times. Apuleius speaks of a concert of flutes, kitharas and chorus, and mentioned its deliciously sweet effect. It was also used as a pitch pipe, to give orators a guide in modulating their voices when addressing an assembly; thus Caius Gracchus always on such occasions, had a slave behind him, whose duty it was to aid him to commence his orations in a proper pitch, and when his voice sank too low, or became too shrill, to call him to better intonation by the sounds of the flute.
Although the flute was the favorite Roman instrument, it was by no means the only one. Trumpets were used to a great extent. A one-toned trumpet of very loud voice, was used for battle signals. These were of very large size, usually of brass, and their sound is described as “terrible.” There was also a smaller, shepherd’s trumpet of mellower tone.
Another much used instrument, of peculiar character, was the sumphonium which did not differ materially from the modern bag-pipe.[63]
Instruments of percussion, were few, and not indigenous to the Romans; such as were used came from the East, and were chiefly used in the worship of Eastern deities, at Rome. When the worship of Bacchus was prohibited, they passed away, with that licentious rite. The most complicated instrument of the ancient world, appeared in Rome during the first century of our era. It was an Organ, not as in the scriptural days a mere syrinx, or Pans-pipes, but an undoubted organ somewhat similar in its effect to our modern instrument.
The instrument is said to have been invented by Ctesebius of Alexandria, in Egypt, who lived about 250 B. C. They did not appear extensively in Rome however, until nearly 300 years later. This organ has given rise to much fruitless discussion. In the field of musical history especially, “a little knowledge” has proved “a dangerous thing,” for where slight descriptions exist of instruments or music, latitude is left for every writer to form his own theory, to fight for it, and denunciate those who differ from it.
We have seen what a battle was fought over the three little manuscripts of Greek music, what a host of differing opinions were held about the Scriptural word “Selah,” and now about this hydraulic organ, each writer mounts his hobby horse, and careers over the field of conjecture. Vitruvius, has given a full description of the instrument from personal inspection, but as his technical terms have lost all significance to modern readers, and have been translated in various ways, and as his work contained no diagrams, or illustrations of the various parts, it is useless.
Some writers[64] imagine the organ to have had seven or eight stops, that is, so many different kinds of tones, which would place them nearly on a par with our own. Others[65] think that they possessed seven or eight keys, that is so many tones only. It has been a point of dispute as to what function the water performed in working it. Vitruvius is rather hazy on this point, saying only that it is “suspended” in the instrument. The water, when the organ was played was in a state of agitation, as if boiling.
There are medals still in existence, which were awarded to victors in organ contests, on which this instrument is represented, with two boys blowing or pumping, but the representation is too small to clear up any doubtful points.
So much is certain, the organs were very powerful in tone, being therefore the instruments best adapted to the large amphitheatres of Rome, and were extremely popular, for it was complained that young men forsook their other studies to learn to play them. The only possibility yet remaining that their construction may be known to us, is in the chance of discovering one in Pompeii.[66]
The functions of music in Rome were similar, though in a less degree, to its uses in Greece. At the sacrifice, the banquet, the contest, and the theatre, music was always an important adjunct. Prophets sometimes inspired themselves by it, as in the east.
There were various games, public and private, at which competition in music took place. But it was not, as in Greece, an art of simplicity and feeling; the love of the extraordinary, the colossal and outre, the desire for the most vulgar modes and excess of obscenity, soon degraded the art from the rude simplicity it possessed in the days of the republic.[67]
This desire for colossal effects was apparent in the Roman games. Seneca says that in Nero’s time, the chorus was more numerous than formerly the whole audience. Hosts of trumpeters, flute-players, etc., crowded the stage. It is also well illustrated in the splendor of the Triumph.
Triumphs were of two kinds, the lesser of which was called Ovatio, and was decreed for unimportant or easily-gained victories.
The grand Triumph (for important victories) was the highest military honor that could be bestowed.
When it had been decreed by the Senate, the victorious General entered Rome by the triumphal gate, where he was met by a procession of the entire Senate; here he gave an oration in praise of the valor of his army, and entering his triumphal chariot, the procession began. The order was as follows:—
Musicians, singing and playing. These were chiefly trumpeters, and the singers chanted triumphal songs.
The Senate and Magistrates.
The animals for the sacrifice, usually oxen, with their horns gilt, and decked with garlands, accompanied by the priests.
Music, flute players, to assist at the sacrificial rites.
Wagons, filled with statues, plate, armor, ensigns, etc., the spoil captured from the enemy.
The tribute from various countries, usually golden crowns, or ornaments sent to grace the occasion.
The captive leaders, kings, or generals, with their wives, in chains.
Lictors with the fasces twined with laurel.
Musicians and dancers dressed as Satyrs, crowned with gold. In the midst of these was a mimic, dressed as a female, who by his performance and gestures, insulted and burlesqued the captives.
Persons sprinkling perfumes.
The victorious general, dressed in purple and gold, crowned with laurel; he was seated in a circular chariot, drawn by four white horses. In his right hand he held a branch of laurel, in his left an ivory sceptre, surmounted by an eagle. His face was painted of a vermilion color, and a golden bulla hung from his neck.
Sometimes the chariot was drawn by elephants.
The children of the victor were allowed to ride with him, and he was attended by many relatives and citizens dressed in white. Behind him stood a slave carrying a richly gemmed crown, whose duty it was to admonish him constantly during the triumph, by whispering in his ear, “Remember that thou art a man.”
The Military Tribunes followed, and the procession closed with,—
The whole army, horse and foot, crowned with laurel, and carrying various ornaments which they had won in the war.
They sang as they marched, the praises of their general, and of their own bravery; but sometimes (for it was a day of license and carnival) they sang the coarsest ribaldry and jokes concerning their leader; thus the army of Julius Cæsar, sang some very personal and vulgar verses about him, at his triumph.
The procession moved from the Porta Triumphalis, along the Via Sacra to the capitol.
All the shops were closed, the temples all open. The buildings along the route were decorated. Stands and scaffoldings were erected for the convenience of spectators. Banquets were spread before every house, to which all comers were welcome. It was in short a perfect carnival, but far exceeding in its proportions that of modern Rome.
When the procession arrived at the Temple of Jupiter at the Capitol, several of the captive leaders were taken from the ranks, and put to death, for ancient Rome was cruel even in her rejoicings; the oxen were also sacrificed, and the wreaths, with which their horns were decorated, were thrown into the lap of Jupiter’s statue.
In the evening there was a grand banquet to the victorious General (Imperator), after which he was escorted to his home with music and song.
Nothing better illustrates the cruel, coarse, and sensual character of Roman music than that employed at such a triumph. Loud trumpet tones, a vile and ungenerous musical pantomime, the sacrificial music, and rude impromptu songs of the soldiery were the chief musical accessories of the greatest popular festival.
CHAPTER IX.
MUSIC OF THE ROMAN THEATRE.
In Rome as in ancient Greece there was a school of music, which was devoted to the stage; but it was not held in such high esteem, nor was it the work of the poet to supply it.
In the French operas bouffes of our day we find the libretto and music to be the work of different persons, and in this respect the Roman comedies resembled them, save that while we rank the music above the text, the Romans valued the words far more than the music; but in other respects there was also much resemblance between the Roman tragedies and modern Opera Seria. They divided the music into parts, such as dialogues or duets, solos, and choruses.
Cicero says that a connoisseur could instantly determine by the style of the music alone, what tragedy was being performed; this would indicate an amount of tone-painting, which justifies our comparison of the Roman with the modern stage.
The theatres were, as usual, of immense size. The Emperor Trajan built an Odeum, or music hall, of which Apollodorus was the architect, which was capable of seating twelve thousand spectators. These structures were usually built of stone, and in the most thorough manner; there is however one notable exception to the rule. In the reign of Tiberius an amphitheatre erected by Atilius at Fidenæ, fell in during a gladiatorial contest, and twenty thousand persons lost their lives.[68]
The music of the stage, tended rather to virtuosity than to real beauty, the natural result being, that while Rome possessed many skillful performers, she had no musical composers of eminence.[69] The names of the composers of music to the comedies of Terence and Plautus are still extant, but they seem to have enjoyed no special renown.
Quintilian speaks of the weak and womanish music of the stage, and Martial in satirizing the Gaditanian female singers which were so much sought for in the later days of ancient Rome, says, that it was the surest sign of a fashionable dandy, to hear a young man trilling out the latest Gaditanian ditties.
Many of the theatrical performers and singers were slaves, who were bought for the purpose, and the most stringent and cruel measures were taken to prevent them from ruining their voices by any kind of debauchery. Theatrical factions also existed for this or that singer, in which at times many lives were lost.[70] Laws were afterwards enacted, to guard against such riots.
Another and less tolerable branch of Roman public musical diversion was the dance, which although most skillfully performed by talented pantomimists, was so indecent in its general character, and choice of subjects, that it received strong condemnation from many writers of that day.
Many anecdotes remain, showing how well acted this art must have been.
Demetrius, the cynic (in the reign of Nero) having reproached a dancer, that his art was but an adjunct to music, the performer caused the musical accompanists to cease playing, and enacted the subject of Mars and Venus without music, and in such a manner that Demetrius was obliged to retract, and said, “Even your hands seem to speak.”[71]
The professional dancers, or musical pantomimists, were most appreciated under the luxurious reign of the Cæsars. A prince of Pontus once came to the court of Nero, where he was royally entertained; as he did not understand the Latin language, he could not appreciate theatrical representations, but a celebrated dancer appearing, he was able to understand his actions from beginning to end. On his departure, when Nero had given him presents, he said “If instead, you would give me this dancer, it would be the greatest favor of all;” on being asked the reason, he replied that he had many barbarian neighbors, whose language he did not understand, and that such an unfailing interpreter would be of incalculable value to him.[72]
We can learn how much these performers entered into their acting by the following anecdote. A dancer once acting the part of Ajax, in a double character dance, became so frenzied, that he tore the clothes off from the time-beater, (or conductor of music) seized the flute of the accompanist and broke it over the head of Ulysses. The better class of spectators condemned such a novel exhibition, but the lower orders applauded vociferously. The performer afterwards became calm again, but, on being desired to repeat the performance, he replied that it was sufficient for a man to make a fool of himself once.[73]
The dance in Rome was esteemed only as an amusement and sensual enjoyment, and was not studied by the respectable classes, save sometimes in connection with singing, in which case it was not driven to such excess as the pantomime dance described above; but neither song, instruments, or dance were studied to any large extent among the masses of the Roman people.
CHAPTER X.
MUSIC OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE.
Under the luxurious reign of the Cæsars, music attained unusual prominence in Rome, but it was still the music of virtuosity, rather than true art. Skillful performers multiplied, while talented composers did not exist. The choruses were augmented to the utmost, their numbers exceeding all previous extent.[74] New instruments began also to appear, the sumphonia, the hydraulic organ, and others. The study of music began to be fashionable (in some at least of its branches) and the emperors themselves did not disdain to practise the art. It is a singular fact, however, that exactly those emperors who were the greatest rascals, took the greatest interest in music. Domitian founded games in honor of Jupiter, in which he introduced Kithara playing and other musical contests to amuse the populace. Heliogabalus sang, danced, played the flute, organ, and pandura, and was proficient in giving musical recitations with flute accompaniment. Caligula studied singing and dancing, and was so fond of the former, that when at the theatre, he could scarcely ever refrain from following the melodies which the tragedians sang, by humming along with them. It is related of him,[75] that during the height of his power and tyranny, he sent, one night, a summons to three men of consular rank, to attend him at once at his palace; in fear and terror, the three hastened to obey, scarcely doubting that the night was to be their last on earth; on arriving, they were most agreeably surprised to hear the sound of flutes, and the emperor himself suddenly burst out before them, arrayed in full theatrical costume, and sang them a song, after which he bowed and retired, upon which they were dismissed, and returned to their anxious families; we can imagine that, under the circumstances, Caligula received very hearty applause that night.
Vespasian established musical games, and gave large sums to actors and singers.[76]
Titus was a good singer and player.
In the later days of paganism, when the music of the Christian church had already manifested its power and superiority, the Emperor Julian endeavored to bolster up the religion of the ancestors, and fight the church with one of its own weapons. He therefore sought to make an extensive reform in the religious and sacrificial music. He endeavored to form music schools at Alexandria, in Egypt, where a new school of singing and composition might be inculcated, and whence Rome might draw the material for a better religious music than had formerly obtained. In one of his letters, he says: “I deem no study more worthy of attention than good music. I desire that you select from among the population of Alexandria certain well born lads, who shall be supplied each with two Egyptian artabai per month, besides rations of corn, wine and oil, and be provided also with clothes by the comptroller of the treasury. The boys are to be chosen for a definite time according to their voice. Should any give promise of further abilities to reach a high degree in the science of music, let them be informed that we propose to offer to such, very substantial rewards. That the minds of these lads will, independently of our encouragement, be benefited by that cleansing power which perfect music exerts, we may rest assured on the authority of those who in past times have laid down excellent regulations on the subject. So much for the new choristers. As for those now under the instruction of the music master Dioscurus, make them act here all the more diligently to their practice. Since we are prepared to assist them in whatever way they may choose.”[77]
This beautiful scheme was frustrated by the death of its great originator, about two years afterward.
But among all the Roman Emperors, none was a more passionate virtuoso, and devotee of skillful music than that incomprehensible monster, Nero. We shall enter into considerable detail regarding this curious emperor, as he may stand as a type (although an exaggerated one) of the soulless and sensual musical virtuosi of his era. In giving his history (so far as it relates to music) we follow mainly the version of Suetonius.
He studied music in his early youth, and first appeared publicly in the games of the Roman youth, entitled the Juvenalia;[78] here he seems to have made no remarkable impression, either by his voice or dramatic action. Immediately on his accession to the throne, he sent for the famous harper Terpnus, and took the greatest pleasure in his performances; it was his habit to sit with him after supper till late into the night. At last he began to practice upon the instrument himself; and at the same time he began to apply himself assiduously to the cultivation of his voice, although it is the testimony of all his historians, that his voice was rather thin and husky.
The care he lavished upon the preservation of his voice, far out-does that of any modern prima donna; he would lie on his back during part of each day, with a sheet of lead on his stomach, or chest; he used emetics and clysters copiously when it seemed at all out of order; his food was always regulated with reference to its effect upon his voice, and he forbore from eating many fruits and pickles, because they were prejudicial to it.
He never delivered any addresses to his army because he feared that he might thereby strain it; all his speeches to the soldiers were delivered by proxy, even though he were present. On all occasions, he had his voice-master by him, to caution him whenever he should be in danger of over-straining, and this instructor was ordered, if the warning should by any cause be unheeded, to clap a napkin upon his mouth by way of enforcing his advice. Through the whole reign of this emperor however, there was never less misery than while he was applying himself to his musical education, or was upon his musical tours.
Encouraged by the improvement (real or imagined) in his voice, he became desirous of appearing upon the public stage. The unjust valuation which he placed upon the art, being apparent by his remark that “music unheard, was valueless and unregarded.”
His first public appearance took place at Naples, A. D. 63; while singing, the theatre was shaken by an earthquake, but Nero was not to be checked, even by the elements, and sang to the end of his song.[79] After the theatre had been vacated, it fell in; and Nero composed lengthy hymns to the gods for his escape.[80]
On his return to Rome he was desirous of showing his skill in that metropolis; at first he only sang to select audiences of friends at his own palace, but infatuated with the applause of this flattering circle, he was only too glad to follow their suggestion that such a fine voice should not be hidden.
He instituted games in his own honor, entitled the Neronia, which were celebrated in imitation of the Greek sacred games, every fifth year; at these games he had introduced contests of flute and organ-players; he was too impatient to wait until the allotted interval should have expired, but ordered that the games should be celebrated in advance of their accustomed time, and placed his name on the list of musical competitors;[81] the Senate sought to avert such a disgrace, by offering to decree the victory to him, without requiring him to compete, but Nero answered, that he stood in no need of favor or protection; that he depended entirely upon himself and upon his own merits; that he would fairly enter the lists, and that the decision should come from the judges.[82] When his name was called, he came on in his regular turn, attended by a suite of high military officials, one of whom bore his harp. After taking his place he announced that he would sing the story of Niobe; this he did, and kept it up for hours, but at the conclusion he (suddenly changing from singer to emperor) deferred the awards of the judges for one year, as this afforded him an opportunity to appear again in that time.
The people gave on this occasion immense applause, but whether they were most pleased by the music, or by the novelty of the whole affair, is doubtful.
But Nero could not wait even the exceptionally short time which he had set, and appeared at numerous private shows, which were given from time to time by private individuals of wealth and station. For these performances he was glad to be offered compensation, not from any avaricious motive, but because it stamped him as a thorough and professional artist; of course many courtiers took advantage of this foible and were very glad to pay him a princely honorarium. He was offered on one occasion 1,000,000 sesterces for one appearance; this sum being equivalent to $37,500 puts the enormous salaries of the modern prima donna to the blush.
He sometimes sang for two or three days in the same place, only pausing occasionally to take refreshments and recuperate, and seldom was any song of his less than a day in length.
This in itself might have been an easily-avoided bore under ordinary circumstances, but he prevented the possibility of a decreasing audience, by posting sentinels at the doors, and forbidding all egress. We can judge of the terrible dullness of these occasions by the fact that some spectators, at times, jumped from the windows, at the risk of their limbs, while others feigned death and were carried out for burial.[83]
There were spies scattered through the audience, and any inattention to the emperor’s singing was dangerous. The soldiers chastised every one who did not applaud properly. If any of the lower classes presumed to give adverse criticism, they were summarily dealt with, while those of the upper rank who showed their weariness, were marked out for future vengeance. The emperor had in reality the life of any subject in his power, while seemingly only exerting legal authority; for he had hundreds of informers, spies and perjurers about his court who could fasten any charge on any person however high in station, and the awe-struck senate was always ready to condemn. Many when charged with any crime by the emperor’s minions, at once committed suicide as the shortest way out of the scrape.
Among those who fell under Nero’s displeasure for not appreciating his music, was the future emperor Vespasian, who during one of the songs, fell fast asleep. Nero was with difficulty persuaded to spare his life, but finally contented himself with banishing him from the court. The scene must have been to some extent, ludicrous, when these poor, bored victims of the emperor-musician, applauding vehemently, cried out for more. Yet the applause did not always fall in the right place, and to obviate this difficulty, the emperor formed a corps of claquers or professional applauders, whose duty it was to lead, and direct the applause at the proper moments. This army of claquers consisted of many fashionable young men, and five thousand commoners. They could easily be distinguished by their elegant attire and curled locks.
The system pursued was similar to that at present used in some of the Parisian theatres; there was one chief, or leader, and several deputy commanders; the force was divided into small parties, and mingled among the bona fide audience, and at a signal from their chief, there would be applause of the required kind.
Nero lavished large sums on this corps, and was ever susceptible of flattery to his musical talents: on some Alexandrians singing some verses in his praise, he was so elated that he sent to Alexandria for more singers and conferred many benefits upon them.
Once while singing in the Roman theatre, in the character of Orestes, the murderer of his mother (which he certainly ought to have acted well, for Nero killed his own mother) he came on the stage loaded with chains, on which a young soldier rushed on the stage to deliver him; this compliment to the reality of his acting was specially grateful to Nero.
The passion for acting and singing were with him almost monomania; during the immense conflagration of Rome, which he himself had kindled, (and which burned for six days and seven nights) he stood upon the tower of Mecaenas, and was so impressed with the spectacle, that he hastened to his theatre, put on the appropriate costume, and sang “The Destruction of Troy:” hence the proverb “Nero fiddled while Rome was burning,” which might run more appropriately “Nero sang because Rome was burning,” for it was not callousness, as has been implied, but rather the reverse of it; a venting of the emotions caused by the grandeur of the spectacle.
That he had implicit belief in his musical powers, there can be no manner of doubt, for he had thoughts of possibly using it as a profession; it had been foretold that the time should come when he would be forsaken by all; on which he replied to the soothsayer “an artist can gain his livelihood in any country.”
In Greece at the public games, the musical contests were still an important feature,[84] and the cities where they were celebrated, hearing of Nero’s vanity in music, sent envoys to him with several golden crowns, as tribute to his abilities in the art; Nero was gratified beyond measure, and said that the Greeks had the only proper appreciation of music. He gave a sumptuous supper to the envoys, after which they begged that they might be permitted to hear that divine voice; Nero, nothing loth, consented, and as might be expected the Greeks went into ecstasies of applause. This determined Nero to make a musical tour through Greece, and attend the sacred games there.
He started on his journey with a vast retinue, among which were the entire force of claquers. Arriving in Greece he ordered the games which did not fall in that year, to be celebrated out of course, and also, contrary to all precedent, established musical contests at the Olympic games, that he might have the honor of appearing in them.[85]
At these games, he appeared with all his enforced boredom, none being allowed to leave the theatre, during his performances. The anxiety and earnestness he displayed in these contests are almost incredible. He bribed better artists to allow him to win, and he would address the judges, telling them that he had made all study and preparation, and taken all the care necessary for so important a contest, but the issue was in their hands, he hoped therefore they would not regard any purely accidental mishaps. The judges would thereupon mildly encourage the timid contestant.
He always adhered strictly to the rules imposed upon the contestants; he would never spit, or wipe the perspiration from his forehead; once on dropping his staff, he was greatly alarmed lest the accident should lose him the prize, but was reassured by one of the contestants who told him that he was sure that the judges had not perceived the occurrence; after the conclusion of his song, he fell on his knees, stretching out his hands in humble supplication for the verdict of the judges. But when the victory was awarded to him, (as it was always sure to be) his humility was thrown to the winds; he then caused his own heralds to proclaim him as the victor, and soon set up statues of himself in the various cities, with laudatory inscriptions, according to the custom of Greece. Not content however, with this, he also caused the statues of all previous victors to be pulled down and thrown in the sewers.
He took the prize (of course) in every Greek contest in which he participated. Competition was freely invited, though not as freely tolerated.
In one of the Grecian contests a musician entered the lists against him, who was very proud of his skill, and could not be bought; he contested the prize so obstinately and skilfully, that Nero’s soldiers also entered the contest by driving him to the wall, and killing him in sight of the audience;[86] the prize was awarded to Nero.
His return from the tour was made with grand pomp; on reaching Naples, he had a breach made in the walls (according to Greek custom) and made his triumphal entry into the city, through it. In the same manner he entered Rome and Antium. In Rome he arrogated to himself a full triumph, and entered in state; all his prizes to the number of eighteen hundred were placed in chariots, and appeared in the procession, each one bearing an inscription as to where and when it was won. Statues were set up, and medals struck in honor of his unprecedented musical success. From this time forward, until his death he did not abate in his musical studies or ardor.
Towards the close of his reign, he took much interest in the water organ, of which we have previously given a description.
When his affairs were at a crisis, soon to be followed by his death, he still gave most of his time to his favorite study. One day when messengers first brought to him the tidings of a new rebellion, it is related that he spent a few moments in consultation about these momentous state affairs, and the rest of the day in showing to his courtiers some new organs which he said he intended shortly to introduce into the theatre.
When apprised of the fact that the legions of Julius Vindex had mutinied, and that that able general had also declared against him, he was sufficiently aroused to march against him, but, ever a maniac on the subject of music, he declared that he intended to do nothing but appear in the camp of the rebellious legions, and weep and sing to them pathetic songs, which should so affect them that they would at once return to their allegiance; the next day after the bloodless victory he promised to appear and sing songs of triumph in the theatre; and he thought it well that composers should begin to write the triumphal odes at once.
In preparing for the expedition, his chief care was not for instruments of war, but to provide safe carriage for his musical instruments; many wagons were filled with these, as he took along several water organs. But the expedition never took place, and he never had the chance of testing the effects of pathetic music upon the Roman legions, for all the army declared against him and he suddenly found himself deserted by his court, and proscribed by the senate. In his downfall nothing hurt him more than that his enemies spoke of him as “that pitiful harper,” and he constantly appealed to his attendants if any could excel him in the art.
He at this crisis made a vow that, if his reign continued peaceably, he would appear in the games he intended to give in honor of his success against the insurgents, and play the water organ, flute and sumphonia, as well as enact a play, and dance; but these inflictions the Roman people were spared.
In one night his seemingly strong power vanished, and he was compelled to fly for his life, attended only by three or four persons. Having made his way to the suburban residence of Phaon, one of his freedmen, it was soon apparent that he could not escape, and that he must die, either by the hands of the infuriated Romans, or by his own. Weeping and sobbing, while his attendants prepared his grave, almost his last words before his suicide were “Alas! what an artist the world is now to lose,” thus in his latest moments, keeping up that egotism and infatuation for music which had been one of his ruling characteristics through life.
The musical side of Nero’s character is certainly to some extent ludicrous, but there were other and far darker sides to his hideous character. These of course are not within our province to dwell upon, but we have chosen to give a full description of his musical life that the reader may clearly see how little of true art, or love of art could have existed in so oppressive an atmosphere.
CHAPTER XI.
HISTORY OF CHINESE MUSIC.[87]
In Brande’s dictionary of arts and sciences, under the head of “Chinese music,” the whole fabric of Chinese music is swept away in one short sentence, at the close of which, the compiler curtly says,—“We ought, perhaps to apologize for saying so much of it.”
No right minded and just reader will echo so flippant an opinion; a nation which more than four thousand years ago, had studied music as an abstract science and which understood the laws of musical proportion centuries before Pythagoras was born, certainly deserves more than a passing notice from the musical historian, no matter how barbarous its present music may seem.
The Chinese life and character, while apparently full of fancy, is in reality quite emptily rational and pragmatic. In all the scientific facts relating to music, the Chinese made early and thorough investigations, but in that inventive inspiration which is the soul of art, they seem to have been deficient. They possess a very full account of their music both of modern and ancient days. Their musical history teems with facts, and anecdotes, dating back far beyond every other nation except the Egyptian. Their literature contains a vast number of treatises and comments on the musical art, many of which are, however, couched in very mystical and ambiguous language. In the Imperial library at Pekin, there are four hundred and eighty-two books on this subject exclusively.[88]
The invention of music, is ascribed by the Chinese to supernatural beings.
The emperor Chi-hoang-che, who reigned in the time of the spirits, is said to have invented the rules of pronunciation, the written characters of the Chinese language, and finally music.[89] A mythological character named Tong-how composed the earliest songs.
Kai-tien-chi, the ninth emperor of this spiritual dynasty, is credited with many of the earliest songs. He also invented eight kinds of instruments (which will be described later) the names of which are certainly poetical enough,—
1. Love the people. 2. The black bird. 3. Don’t cut the trees. 4. Cultivate the eight different grains. 5. Chant the celestial doctrines. 6. Celebrate the merits of the sovereign. 7. Imitate the virtues of the earth. 8. Recall the memory of all existing things.
These names were probably given to the instruments from the special songs which each accompanied.
Tcho-yung, a successor of the preceding emperor, is said once to have listened to the songs of the birds, while the empire was in a state of profound peace, and their singing caused him to invent a music which penetrated every where, speaking to the intelligence, calming the passions of the heart, causing perfect equilibrium in the emotions, facilitating and improving the use of all the senses, and prolonging the life of man.
The name of this music was Tsie-ven—“Temperance and mercy.”
This beautiful legend of the birds, seems almost Greek in its poetry, but there exists yet another mythological bird in the Chinese tales, which is extraordinarily like the Egyptian Phœnix. The Foang-hoang was a bird whose nest and abiding-place was wrapt up in mystery; it appeared in China only at the birth of a good ruler, and its coming was always a happy presage to the nation. The Chinese mythology, so far as it relates to music, is evidently a traditional history, and poetically relates actual occurrences, showing that, in all probability, their music existed, and was highly esteemed in pre-historic times.
The authentic history of Chinese music may be said to begin with Fo-hi, the first of the Ty dynasty, and the founder of the Chinese empire. He reigned about 2950 B. C.[90] All good qualities seem to have been united in this beneficent ruler; in all ways he sought to benefit his race.
It was not as an amusement, but as a means of popularizing his thoughts on all sciences, that he regulated and arranged the system of music. His first song celebrated his triumph over ignorance and barbarism; soon after he composed the “Fisher’s song” in which he relates how he had taught modes of fishing to the natives. He invented the kin, a stringed instrument in the style of the modern zither, but with cords of silk, and in it he symbolized all manner of things.
He rounded the upper part to represent Heaven; he flattened the lower part to resemble the earth; one part of the instrument was called “The abode of the dragon” (representing the breezes of Heaven); another part was entitled “The nest of the Foang-hoang” (to betoken the seasons of the year). By means of this instrument he could regulate his heart, and curb his passions.[91]
“Those who would play the Kin,” says the Chinese commentator, “and draw sounds from it which can charm, must have a grave countenance and well regulated interior, they should pick it lightly, and give a tone neither too high, nor low.”[92]
Many Chinese writers attribute some of the inventions which are credited to Fo-hi, to his wife Niu-va, a supernatural personage who was regarded as a holy and miraculous virgin in the Chinese annals.[93] The truth about Fo-hi seems to be that he was a remarkably good man and a benefactor to his race, and therefore many useful inventions, and wonderful adventures are attached to his name, which cannot be authenticated. Some writers consider him a myth, which is scarcely a tenable position; others have endeavored to prove him to be neither more nor less than the Noah of the Bible. There is little doubt that he made improvements in Chinese music, and, by exaggeration, was called its inventor. A Chinese writer in giving to the invention a greater antiquity, beautifully says “Music had its cradle in the heart of man.”
Chin-noung, successor of Fo-hi, was also a good ruler; his chief works in music seem to have been some alterations in the Che (a sort of Kin) and he was able by his playing to turn the heart of man, from intemperate life, to celestial truth.
Hoang-ti, the next emperor, had music scientifically investigated and established natural rules to the art. The reign of Hoang-ti is supposed to have been about 2,600 B. C. In his day music though practised, was not understood in its natural elements.
The Chinese even at that day, based all other sciences on music, and sought to make this art (in a mystical and hyperbolical way) the foundation of all others. The emperor therefore ordered Ling-lun to give his attention to the development of the laws of music. The fables on the subject of his researches are innumerable; he travelled to the north-western part of China and took up his abode on a high mountain, near which was a large growth of bamboos. Ling-lun took a bamboo, which he cut between two knots; he removed the pith, and blowing in the tube, a sound resulted which was of the exact pitch of the human voice when in its normal state. Not far off was the source of the Hoang-ho, and Ling-lun found that the tone of his tube was similar to the sound given by the waters of that river in bubbling from the earth; thus was discovered the first Lu, (or Li) the fundamental tone.
Ling-lun was pursuing his investigations further, when the Foang-hoang appeared with its mate and perched upon a neighboring tree. The male bird sang in six different tones, while the female also used six, but different from the preceding. The first note of the mystical Foang-hoang, was precisely in unison with the reed which Ling-lun had cut from the bamboo.
On ascertaining this, the fable continues, Ling-lun cut twelve pieces of bamboo and pitched them according to the notes of the two songsters; he found by alternating the sounds of the male with the female bird, that he had a chromatic scale. The six tones of the male were called the li-yang (masculine tones) the other six li-yn (feminine tones), and throughout all Chinese music, the distinction between the male and female tones of the scale still exists. This was the first Chinese discovery of the proportions of sound, the first step in the science of Acoustics, and though covered over with fable and allegory, it really preceded the discoveries of Pythagoras by many centuries; Ling-lun went back to the emperor’s court and there measured and fixed the pitch of the Chinese scale forever. Bells were also made of the official pitch, that it might easily be perpetuated.
Hoang-ti also had immense trumpets made which imitated “the voice of dragons,” and drums which sounded “like thunder.” This monarch was as great and good in all arts and sciences, as he was in music. He seems to have been a Chinese “king Alfred.” After him, came Chao-hao, at whose accession the Foang-hoang again appeared, intimating thereby another prosperous reign in this line of good and musical emperors. Chao-hao invented the idea of marking the divisions of the night by strokes of a drum, and also had founded a set of twelve copper bells, to represent the twelve months of the year. He used all his efforts to make music popular, and invented new modes of playing, making the yang and yn less distinct from each other, that is uniting the more powerful tones (male) with the weaker (female). It is said that he first introduced songs in honor of the ancestors, which play a very important part in Chinese music, and that these hymns were performed for the first time, in honor of the amiable emperor Hoang-ti.
The emperors next following, all protected and encouraged music. The first songs, that is of a secular style, were composed about 2456 B. C. At this time also, many new instruments were invented, and old ones improved. With the reign of Yao, 2357 B. C., the chronological record of Chinese emperors and their doings becomes much clearer. Under this emperor, China had a season of great peace and prosperity. He invented the instrument of musical stones, called the king, (to be described later) and received the stones specially adapted to its manufacture, as tribute from various provinces.
Chun, who succeeded him, though of low birth (he was nominated to the throne by Yao) continued to advance the progress of music, and used it, as the Greek philosophers did later, to prepare himself for public business.
“It was to the sound of the kin,” says the Chinese historian,[94] “that the great emperor Chun prepared to deal with the affairs of the empire, and to the melody of the kin is due the love and care which he constantly gave to his people.” Chun composed the following song, words and music, on the above instrument; it may be taken as a specimen of very early Chinese improvisation.
“The breeze of midday brings warmth and dispels sorrow; may it be the same with Chun; may he be the joy and the consolation of his people. The breeze of midday causes the grain to grow, which is the hope of the people; even so Oh, Chun! be thou the hope and the wealth of thy subjects,” etc.
Chun also wrote a song in praise of agriculture. In the year 2284 B. C., he established uniformity of weight and measure, as well as a fixed diapason throughout the empire, and endeavored to have all the bells made in just proportions to each other. He also caused to be composed, a melody celebrating the nine principal virtues; it was accompanied with dances, in nine parts and contained nine modulations; it was named Siao-chao from the instruments which the dancers held in their hand.
Chun established five grand ceremonials, in each of which music bore a part. First, a ceremony of rejoicing, in honor of Chang-ti (the supreme being) and of the celestial spirits. Second, a festival in honor of the ancestors. Third, a military celebration, in honor of the former dissensions of the empire having given way to a tranquil peace. Fourth, a feast dedicated to courtesy, when the beauties of concord and goodwill were sung. Fifth and last, a ceremony in which the inter-dependence of man was remembered, and the manifold blessings accruing by mutual beneficence, chanted.
Chun also appointed a superintendent of music, who was to see that the art was always exercised in its proper direction.
Kouei was appointed censor, and the instructions of the emperor to him, are full of good sense. “Music should follow the sense of the words.” “It should be simple and unaffected.” “Music is an expression of the soul of the musician;” such sentiments as these show a keen appreciation of the art, which seems all the more singular when we think of the peculiar music to which it relates. The music of the time of Chun, is rapturously eulogized by Confucius.
Yu, the great, only followed the example of his predecessors in setting to music the most moral precepts and praising virtue, in song. It may perhaps have been this association of high thoughts and ideas, the noble character of the poetry, which gave music such a charm in the eyes of the ancient Chinese. Yu made use of some primitive instruments, in a new and very laudable manner;[95] desirous of being easily accessible to all his subjects, he caused to be placed at a gate of his palace, five instruments of percussion, which were to be struck by any applicant, according to the nature of his business with the emperor.
A large bell announced a person who desired to complain of an injustice; a drum signified a communication respecting the manners of the empire; and a small bell, private or confidential business; a tam-tam, a public or private misfortune; a tambourine, an accusation of crime which was appealed from some lower tribunal to the adjudication of the emperor.
This kindly emperor, regulated what was still deficient in music, and did it so thoroughly that no further changes were necessary until the Hia dynasty became extinct. The last of the above mentioned dynasty was (for a change) a most vicious emperor. Kie was, according to the chroniclers, a sort of Mongolian Caligula, and his memory is execrated.
The next dynasty, called Chang, after a prosperous series of emperors, also ended with an atrocious tyrant called Tchow, who invented a luxurious style of music, and is said to have first established the feast of lanterns. He was deprived of throne and life by violence.
Ou-wang a later ruler, is chiefly celebrated for his military music, for which he seems to have had a penchant and of which he composed considerable. One of his pieces was intended for performance while the army formed itself in order of battle.
In his day, the discipline of music was very thoroughly attended to. Every ceremony and rite had its appropriate music attached; the musicians had to undergo two examinations each year, and all innovations either in composition, or in the shaping of musical instruments was jealously guarded against. No special features appear in the musical history of China during the next few reigns.
In the reign of Koang-tsee, a valuable treatise on music was published, which is still highly esteemed. At this era also were established Mandarins of music and of the dance. At this epoch flourished the great Kong-fu-tsee, or Confucius, the leader of Chinese thought and philosophy.
This sage’s name was simply Kong, but his disciples added the title, fu-tsee, which makes the meaning of the whole, Kong, the instructor, or master. This was Latinized by the Jesuit missionaries into Confucius. This philosopher cultivated the study of music and seems to have esteemed it as highly as the Greek philosophers did a century later. He revised and arranged many of the old books on musical ceremonies and rites. He learnt the art in a distant province, as in his native place music was but little known.
While in the kingdom of Tchi, Confucius heard some of the ancient music of the days of Chun performed. The effect on him was so marvellous, that for three months he scarcely could eat, for thinking of it. “I should never have believed,” he said, “that composers could reach such a pinnacle of perfection.”[96]
It is also said that Confucius was an excellent performer on the musical stones of the king. Once while playing on this instrument a passer by struck with the beauty of his performance, paused to listen, and exclaimed “surely one who can play thus, must have his soul occupied with great thoughts.”
In the later days of his wanderings, when he was reduced to the extremity of poverty and starvation, he sang and played as usual, showing no signs of depression or despondency. One of his disciples ventured a reproach, asking how he could sing when they were all famishing; he replied; “the wise man seeks by music, to strengthen the weakness of his soul, the thoughtless one uses it to stifle his fears.” The facts relating to Confucius, his wanderings and life are full of anecdotes relating to his extreme love of the art, and are probably authentic. The family of Confucius still exists in his native province, having passed intact through sixty-eight or sixty-nine generations; they are honored by special privileges and distinctions and are the most notable hereditary aristocracy of China. It may be mentioned here, that all the philosophers and literati of the empire were musicians as well: in this respect strongly resembling the sages of Greece.
The theatre began to progress greatly in this era, (sixth century B. C.), and one emperor was censured for devoting too much time to his comedians, and too little to the worthy celebration of the ancestral feast. The arts received a severe check when the Tchin or Tsin dynasty obtained control of the entire realm. These were in reality the first who united the various provinces under one rule, and who bore, with right, the title of Hoang, or emperor. It is from this dynasty that China takes its name (Tchina or Tsina). One of this set of conquerors, Tchi-chi-hoang-ti, desirous of obliterating the memories of former glories, which might prove prejudicial to his own, attempted, in 245 B. C., a proscription of all science and art.
He commanded all ancient books to be burnt, and especially caused strict search to be made for the books which Confucius had collected and revised. Only works on agriculture and medicine were to be spared. A large number of literary persons who had concealed part of their books were put to death; yet many continued to risk their lives to preserve the fruits of ancient culture. Books were hidden in walls of houses, in tombs, and buried in the earth, whence they were long afterward recovered. The emperor in proclaiming this war on literature gave as his reason that the ancient books did not suit that era, that they were a hindrance to progress, that they caused the people to neglect agriculture which was the only substantial happiness of a nation, and that they gave to the people liberty to censure the sovereign, and by consequence, fostered disobedience and rebellion. Of course in this universal persecution, music did not fare better than the other arts. All instruments were ordered to be destroyed and made over after new models. The bells which had given the standard pitch up to that time, were melted down, and many of them used for the purpose of founding colossal statues to deck the entrance of the imperial palace. But, according to La Fage,[97] it was much easier for the musicians to evade the emperor’s decree, and save their instruments, than for the literati to save their precious books. There were few instruments and they were less rigorously sought after, and it was an easy matter to conceal bells or the kings (musical stones) by burying them in the earth whence they could be exhumed intact at any later period. Therefore in spite of the exertions of the emperor, the ancient traditions and arts could not be wholly extinguished; a spark still remained from which the torch of science and art could be re-lit.
It was this despotic emperor, however, who built the Wan-li-chang or great wall of China, therefore his influence upon the empire was not wholly exerted for evil, but rather directed towards the establishment of himself and descendants as permanent rulers of China. The rule was short however, for in 206 B. C. the Han dynasty governed the empire. The first of this family, named Kao, endeavored to repair the ravages made in the field of learning by the Tsin despots.
He caused extensive search to be made in order that the ancient pitch, division of tone, and system of modulation might be discovered. It was partially unavailing, for we learn that though music was established in all its splendor under the subsequent reign of Vow-ti, yet many writers of that era (about 140 B. C.) assert that the art of regulating the heart by means of music, was irretrievably lost, and that it only seemed to inflame the baser passions.
In fact at this time, music was chiefly an adjunct of the theatre, and each day brought forth new comedies, concerts, or ballets. A terrible scandal was created in the reign of Tching-ti (an emperor who reigned shortly after) by that sovereign taking one of his beautiful corps de ballet, to wife.
These ballet dancers seem also to have been talented singers, and were of similar station, though far inferior in talents, to the Hetaræ of ancient Greece. In the time of the last named ruler, there were found on the bank of a river, sixteen ancient musical stones or kings, and the fact that the sovereign esteemed this one of the most glorious events of his reign, shows how earnest and persistent was the endeavor to reclaim the old school of music from oblivion.
Between the years A. D. 8, and 23, many books relative to music were written; the Chinese, however, assert that all of these were founded on a false system and contained many errors. About A. D. 60, the president of the tribunal of rites and music, made great efforts to collect the remains of ancient knowledge, and place music once more upon its old, pure basis. The work written by him was highly esteemed by the literati but unfortunately, the musicians had become used entirely to the newer, and less pure style of music, and were too lazy to care about learning any new modes; therefore all manner of difficulties were placed in the way of Pao-yé, and the reform was unsuccessful.
Tching-ti, A. D. 280, had at his court ten thousand women, who were all proficient singers and players. Ngai-ti, one of his successors, tried to remedy the luxury and effeminacy which had crept into every department of music. He dismissed all his musicians, except those who performed at sacred rites, or in military music (these being countenanced by ancient usage) and all the troupes of singing girls were also broken up. The poor musicians thus thrown out of employment numbered four hundred and forty. The singing girls were yet more numerous.
These reforms seem to have been of short duration, for almost always, after an emperor who enthusiastically attacked these abuses, came one who with equal fervor, protected them.
One sovereign, A. D. 289, had at his palace five thousand actresses, and the fourth successor of the reformer who dismissed his musicians, named Tsin-ou-ti, although a lover of music, was also a great lover of luxury. His greatest delight was to enervate the officials of high rank by inviting them to carousals which he would extend far into the night, and when the censors remonstrated with him on his course, he heard them patiently; he would then invite them to dinner for the same day, and there cause them to drink so copiously that they had to be carried home.[98]
An emperor who reigned about 503 A. D. banished comedy and music from the palace, and also established the funeral festival in honor of Confucius, in which sacred music played a part.
Tay-tsung, who ascended the throne A. D. 626, was an active and thorough reformer in music as in all other arts which needed his helping hand. In the year 640, he turned his attention, after having brought the empire to a state of peace, to bringing music back to its ancient and pristine glory. In pursuance of this design, he ordered that everything relating to ancient music, books as well as instruments, should be sent to his court. An immense quantity of books, fragments, memoirs, old and new instruments, etc., were discovered and collected, which were handed over to a committee of savans, whose duty it was to retain the good, reject the bad, and systematize the whole. Much was discovered by this means; books were printed and the art of music received a strong impetus; but still the Chinese held that the full beauty of the ancient art could not be unearthed, perhaps because they could find nothing in it equaling their expectations: but Tay-tsung for his efforts in the matter, was ever after held in the highest esteem by the Chinese, who rank him with the great and good rulers, Hoang-ti, Yao, etc.
Tay-tsung also composed, or caused to be composed, a war dance, accompanied with the appropriate music; it was intended to inspire the soldiers with virtue and courage, and to make them emulate heroes.
Under the emperors who came immediately after, comedy and theatrical representations flourished. The musicians were always kept within the limits of their caste however. A chief comedian once permitted himself to make an allusion to state affairs, in a play; the emperor listened to him with much attention, (the Chinese politeness is such that they will accord the most respectful attention to a person whom they would like to strangle,) but after the performance called the actor aside and told him that he kept his troupe to amuse, not to advise him, and sent the poor fellow into exile.
Another time a very talented musician committed a murder, and was sentenced to death therefor; several officials endeavored to obtain his pardon, and a number of musicians presented a petition to the emperor acknowledging that the culprit was very guilty and fully deserved his fate, but that his talents in music could not be replaced, and that therefore his life should be spared. The emperor’s reply was a worthy one, “you fear damage to the art of music” said he, “but I fear damage to the laws and government of the empire.” The sentence was executed. One emperor dared to raise a musician to special rank, and thus defied the strong respect for caste, which existed in China.
Y-tsung, the causer of this great scandal, had in his service a great performer, named Li-ko-ki, who was an especial favorite. One day when Li-ko-ki had composed a specially agreeable song, the emperor, without considering his profession, gave him the post of captain of the guards. It caused an immense excitement among the sticklers for etiquette, for all previous emperors, when they gave office to their musicians, first caused them to renounce their profession, while Li-ko-ki still continued in the practice of music; the emperor however carried his point. Y-tsung also showered other unusual honors upon the members of this profession, for it was his custom to give a dozen festivals each month, when the musical corps were allowed to eat at his own table.
In traveling, of which he was very fond, he rarely took along less than five hundred musicians.
Under the last prince of the Tang dynasty there came many disasters upon the Chinese empire, and the successful inroads of the Tartar invaders, were most of all prejudicial to music; at one time the emperor was forced to fly from the capital, his palace was pillaged, and the musical instruments in it, either destroyed, or carried off to Tartary. When peace had been concluded and tranquillity reigned again, there was an earnest effort made to manufacture new instruments, but in doing this, great obstacles had to be surmounted, the models were dispersed or lost, and the official pitch was uncertain. A great search was made for the set of bells which represented the authorized ancient scale, but in vain; large sums were offered to the Tartars if they would make restitution of those which had been carried off at the sacking of the imperial palace, but these savages, after long delays, replied that they could not ascertain what had become of the captured instruments.
Thus another disturbing influence was imported into the Chinese music; but it was still as highly-prized an art as of old, for soon after these calamities came rulers who were passionately devoted to it; Tchowang-song, gave two provinces to a pair of favorite musicians; and a subsequent emperor (a la Nero) took to the stage himself, in spite of the horror of his remonstrating censors.
Music and art took a new impetus under the Song dynasty (A. D. 960 to 1279), and very many books were written, on music especially, but alas! there was now so much uncertainty in the field of ancient (and therefore in Chinese eyes correct) music, that the commentators fell into the same pit which engulfed the modern decipherers of ancient Greek music, i. e., they speedily came to all kinds of varying and irreconcilable conclusions. One thing they resolved however, which was that the bells which gave the official scale were not correct; they therefore founded a new set, which were so satisfactory to the emperor and his advisers, that the former ordered his own official bells to be given to the founders for recasting. The musicians were very ill pleased with the new system, although obliged to conform to it, and yet determined that all trace of the ancient scale should not be lost. They managed by connivance with some officials to save a complete set. The bells were indeed removed from the tribunal of music and rites, but instead of being thrown into the furnace, they were with the tacit consent of high authorities, buried in a court-yard of the palace, and long afterward exhumed.
Tsai-yu, one of the later emperors, studied deeply to place music on a secure footing,[99] and it is remarkable that his researches into the proportions of tones, led him to the same results that were afterwards discovered by the best acousticians of Europe.
Kang-Hi, in the year 1678-9, worked for the art in an extraordinary manner; he founded an academy of music, and made his third son president of the institution; he wrote a work, “The true method of the Ly-lu,” in four books, and had a fifth added “concerning European music.”[100] In a proclamation concerning the diminution of the number of court-musicians, Kang-hi says, “Music has power to quiet the heart, and therefore was beloved by our sages. They also could while enjoying themselves at its practice, benefit themselves, because the fundamental principles of government are contained in the art of music. But such a comparison scarcely is suitable to virtuosity. Why, therefore, expend money on it? I approve of the action of Ngai-Ti, (a former emperor) in discharging them.”
The knowledge of European music, which this emperor attained, in opposition to all previous custom in China, came through the Jesuit missionary Pereira, a Portuguese by birth; and Grimaldi, a missionary of the Propaganda. He found it (contrary to the custom of the Chinese) quite to his taste.[101] He was particularly astounded by the ability of Father Pereira to set down in notes, and sing any melody, after a single hearing. He begged his two guests to prepare a work containing the elements of European harmony, and on their completion of it, he had it printed at his palace in a sumptuous manner, and as an especial honor, he had his own name added to it as their coadjutor. He now forced his musicians to learn and to play French, German and Italian music; they did so quite exactly, but most mechanically and with much unwillingness, for it was contrary to all their ideas of art or propriety. Kang-hi saw that the effort would be useless unless he used severe measures in enforcing his reform, and like a wise man he yielded and allowed his performers to return to their own beloved style of music. But the spirit of reform was yet in him, and so far as he was able, he introduced many innovations and many alterations into all departments of Chinese music.
He made a proclamation saying that the old instruments though very good were quite worn out, and that as new ones were necessary, he had prepared a list of the ones required. One of these instruments, can scarcely be called a musical one, as it was simply a flag, which was to be displayed during the continuance of the musical performance.
Kang-hi is spoken of with much rapture by the Jesuit missionaries, for he was not only European in his taste for music; he not only tolerated, but greatly favored Christianity, and at one time it was feared by his court, that he was about to embrace that faith. The real secret of his intimacy with the Catholic missionaries, seems to have been only a great desire on his part, to acquire new information.
He was greatly interested in the mechanism of a clavichord, which the fathers brought with them to China, and ordered two of his musicians to take lessons from them, upon the instrument; the pupils made very little progress, as they were rather unwilling students.
It was not only in the emperor’s court, at this epoch, that European music began to be known; many persons throughout all the empire, sought to pave the way to Imperial favor by studying the new art. The method of Father Pereira had been sent into each province by the emperor, and the ancient Li were for a time eclipsed by the Do, re, mi, etc., of the “western barbarians.” It might have been a permanent reform, but for the fact that the Chinese had always been accustomed to associate their music in a peculiar manner, with virtue and morality; each tone represented some moral precept, each species of the eight varieties of sound represented to their mind some high thought or noble virtue; it was this association of ideas, which evoked the eulogies of Confucius, and it was this time-honored custom which prevented European music from obtaining any foothold among them. When, a short time after, Amiot endeavored to ingratiate himself with the Mandarins by means of his music, he failed utterly, through the same cause.
He thus relates his effort:—
“I understood music passably well; I played the traverse flute and the clavichord; I used all these little talents to make myself welcome to the Chinese. On different occasions during the first years of my stay in Pekin, I never failed to endeavor to convince those who heard me, that our music, excelled that of their own country.”
It is to be remembered that these were educated persons, able to compare and to judge; persons of the first rank, who honoring the French missionaries with their kindness, came often to their abode to entertain themselves with them, with various matters relative to the sciences or arts cultivated in China.
“The cyclops,” “The savages,”[102] the most beautiful sonatas, the most melodious airs of the flute, none of these made any impression on the Chinese.
“I saw upon their countenances only a cold and vacant look, which announced to me that I had not touched them in the least. One day I asked them how they liked our music, and begged that they would tell me frankly what they thought. They answered in their politest way, that our melodies were not made for their ears, nor their ears for our melodies, it was not therefore surprising, they could not find beauties in our melodies, as they could in their own.”
“The melodies of our music,” said a distinguished doctor (in the service of his majesty, the emperor); “the melodies of our music pass from the ear to the heart, and from the heart to the soul. We feel them, and we understand them; those which you have just played, have no such effect upon us. The airs of our ancient music were something quite different; one needed but to hear them, to be ravished with them. Our books give to them the most pompous eulogies; but they tell us at the same time, that we have, in a great measure, lost the excellent method by which the ancients produced such marvellous effects.”[103] It is interesting to place these remarks beside the reiterated opinion of many writers that the Chinese music is not worthy of being called “music” at all; and then to turn to that most proper definition of the art,—“Music is the art of moving the feelings by combinations of sounds.”
The same obstacles exist to-day against change in the music of the Chinese, as in the days of Kang-hi.
This emperor, in his later days added to the long list of his musical efforts, a volume treating of dances, and also a collection of the most celebrated ancient songs. The missionary who mentions this latter work,[104] assures us that he dares not translate it, lest he should be accused of placing the sentiments of the most noble psalms in the mouth of the Chinese.
During Kang-hi’s reign the flute became quite fashionable in China, the people becoming infatuated with it; Kang-hi himself became proficient in its use, but on finding, later, that he had not benefited himself in any way by its use he gave up the practice.
Young-tching, his successor, published new rules for music and assigned a special music in honor of agriculture and husbandry, which was to be performed each year. He did not take to the Jesuits as kindly as his predecessor, for from A. D. 1724 to 1732 he was busily engaged in expelling them from China.
Khian-long, his son, succeeded him in 1736. There is nothing remarkable in the history of Chinese music from his day to the present time.
Lord Macartney’s embassy (1793) took place during the long reign of this emperor. Many persons were attracted to the embassy’s rooms by the European band which each evening gave a concert. Among the most assiduous of these visitors was the chief of the emperor’s orchestra; charmed with the sound of some of their instruments, yet absolutely refusing to accept of them as a present, he sent several painters to take designs of them on paper. These artists laid clarinets, flutes, bassoons, etc., on immense sheets of paper, on which they traced the exact shape and size of each, while underneath they wrote remarks giving the exact dimensions of each aperture, valve and tube.
The chief announced his determination of making similar instruments from these models, but in different proportions, which he proposed to fix for himself. The result of the experiment is unknown.
The later emperors have all had long reigns, and left music in status quo, the last emperor Hien-fung being only remarkable for his constant drunkenness. Let us now examine more minutely the order of music which has inspired such disgust to European ears, and such rapture to the Chinese from the earliest ages down to the present time.
CHAPTER XII.
CHINESE MUSIC AND MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS.
The Chinese have from the very earliest times divided musical sounds into eight classes, and imagined that in order to produce them, nature had formed eight kinds of sonorous bodies. They divided them as follows:—
1. The sound of skin, produced from the tanned skin, or parchment of various animals. 2. The sound of stone. 3. Of metal. 4. Of baked clay. 5. Of silk, used in the form of strings as we use cat-gut, or wire. 6. Of wood, used often in instruments of percussion. 7. Of bamboo, used in flutes. 8. Of calabash, a species of gourd, out of which a peculiarly constructed instrument was manufactured.
Of the skins of animals, many different instruments are made, all of which may be designated under the general name of drums, but the Chinese possess various kinds of drums of all shapes and sizes.[105] The most ancient variety of these was the Tou-kou, which signifies earth drum, so called because its body was made of baked clay, over each end of which was drawn the skin. An instrument of this description was both fragile and unwieldy; its disadvantages soon caused the clay to be replaced by wood, out of which all subsequent drums were made, the size and shape being varied according to the uses for which they were destined. Nothing is said in the ancient writings as to what varieties of wood were used in the manufacture of the earliest drums, but tradition has it, that at first the wood of the cedar and mulberry, as also sandal wood, were the most used.
The Chinese possess eight kinds of drums. 1. The tsou-kou, which had the shape of a barrel, and was fixed upon a pole which ran through its body. 2. The Yn-kou, similar to the above, but the body more elongated, and the staff or pole which supported it usually thrust into the earth to keep it firmly in position, while that of the tsou-kou stood upon a cross piece at its base.[106] 3. A variety of the tsou-kou called hiuen-kou, of very large size; on each side of this drum is attached a small drum, in shape like a kitchen pot, one of which is to be struck lightly, the other heavily. 4. The kin-kou, another keg-shaped drum mounted upon a pedestal; it is about six feet long, and six feet in diameter. It receives different names according to the way it is decorated; thus, if it bears on its case paintings of storms, it would be called lei-kou; but if it is ornamented with birds of good omen, such as the foang-hoang, or white swans, it is called lou-kou.[107] 5. The great tao-kou, which is still used to give the signal for the commencement of a song, is about one foot in length and diameter. 6. The little tao-kou, a cross between a drum and a baby’s rattle, is about seven inches long, mounted upon a stick, and through the centre of its case a string is passed; at each end of this string are knots; when this drum is played, the performer twirls it about rapidly, the knots fly against the skin, and produce a sort of rattle or drumming. This drum is used to show the completion of a verse or division of any musical composition. It is also used in funeral processions and at commemorative ceremonies.[108] 7. The ya-kou, a small drum which is filled with rice grains. The skin of this drum is not only tanned but is boiled afterwards in pure water. The sound of this instrument is soft and pleasant. 8. The po-sou is a drum of cylindrical shape, and is placed upon a small table; it is played sitting; in all other respects it is like the ya-kou.
These are the eight varieties of drums known to the Chinese; many of them are still in use; there are also some varieties of military drums which do not differ much from the preceding.
It is customary to cover not only the case, but the faces and sticks of the drums with paintings.
Drums are used in China to give the hour at night, to announce persons desiring audience, at some palaces, and for many other purposes as well as for music. The Chinese also sometimes muffle their drums (in all religious ceremonies which take place in presence of the emperor) effecting this not in our manner, but by covering the instrument with ornamented draperies of cloth, which absorb part of the sound.