The success achieved in London naturally resulted in a call to the great provincial cities, and thus Richter had the gratification not only of doing great service to his idolised master, but also to England, that had so quickly learnt to appreciate him.
If anyone could doubt the extraordinary fascination that Wagner's music wields over the masses, a single visit to a Promenade Concert on a Wagner night should easily dispel it.
For over forty years the Philharmonic Society stood practically alone in any serious efforts on behalf of orchestral music. Eventually, however, another champion entered the lists, and valiantly did he bear himself. This was no other than the late Herr August (afterwards Sir August) Manns, who in 1855 was appointed director of the music at the Crystal Palace.
To appreciate the difficulties he had to encounter, one must know that when he appeared on the scene, he found a wretched brass band installed there; no concert room, no proper platform for the performers, and the music, such as it was, had to be played to the accompaniment of popping corks, shrieking engines, and all the multitudinous noises one can imagine in such a vast place of entertainment. However, he was no ordinary man.[26] He was
energetic, determined, and courageous, and whilst being generally genial and even persuasive in manner, he was also undoubtedly of a somewhat combative nature. This was shown some years later when he took exception to a criticism of Mr. Bernard Shaw, and drew from him a characteristic letter in which musical critics are described as divided into "two sorts, musicians who are no writers, and writers who are no musicians," and classes himself among the latter.
The first thing that Manns set himself to do was to replace the brass band by an ordinary orchestra. In this he was ultimately successful, although only after a severe struggle with the Palace authorities, who, even including the late Sir George Grove, inclined to the opinion that a string orchestra was unsuitable to the building. Events justified his judgment, and he ultimately succeeded in evolving, out of an absolute chaos, the famous band and the celebrated Saturday Concerts.
That he did an enormous amount of good during his many years of strenuous work is unquestionable, but it must be acknowledged that the position of the Palace, being so far from London, made the concerts as an institution more or less parochial. The majority of those attending them was mainly composed of local subscribers and their families, while the London element largely consisted of professional musicians or others having business connection with music in various ways. The free list would be, therefore, largely in evidence, and not
calculated to ensure the stability of such an expensive enterprise.
As communication between London and Sydenham became more easy, it began to be observed that the local residents were taking advantage of it in ever increasing numbers, to seek the more varied attractions of the Metropolis, with the inevitable result of decreasing subscriptions and gradually diminishing audiences.
When the collapse came at last it caused widespread regret, and there was a unanimous feeling that Manns had well earned the highest mark of recognition that could be bestowed on him. Let us hope that he looked upon his knighthood as an adequate reward for his services.