To prevent the consummation of the King’s offer, and at the same time to establish the superiority of German over French art, Volumier, the director of the royal orchestra at Dresden, who was well acquainted with Sebastian’s great skill and knowledge, invited him to go to Dresden without delay, that he might expose the pretensions of this Frenchman and settle the superiority of German art, as well as the superior honesty of German character.
Bach, fully aware of the corrupting influence of French taste at that period, lost no time in accepting the invitation, and went at once to Dresden. Volumier, in the meantime, had commended him to the King and Queen as a musician of equal rank with Marchand, and he had barely arrived when a messenger from Court brought him an invitation to a royal concert, in which “the highly renowned French concert-master and unrivalled virtuoso, M. Jean Louis Marchand, will appear,” containing also an intimation that the King would be glad to hear him play. He cheerfully accepted, and as he entered the hall in his plain black coat, accompanied by Volumier, whose face was glowing with anticipation, offered a striking contrast to the richly clad and decorated Court attendants. All eyes were fixed upon the simple Weimar organist, especially those of the Frenchman, who, dressed in silk, velvet, and point-lace, and blazing with gold and jewels, stared contemptuously at his simple but deeply earnest German rival.
The concert at last began. Marchand with a haughty smile, as if assured of victory, rose and went to the piano. He played the melody of a French song in a neat and spirited manner, varied it with many little artifices and refinements, and then, coming back to the melody, closed in spirited and effective style. A storm of applause greeted him as he rose. He looked around him with an air of triumph.
“Very artistic work,” said Sebastian, as the courtiers and musicians crowded round Marchand, “and very elegantly and charmingly played.”
“That is true,” replied some of Marchand’s friends, with much satisfaction. “Surely he is the leading piano virtuoso of our time.”
Sebastian was silent, and appeared to be thinking of the music he had just heard, when a page brought him an invitation from the King to play something.
“If Your Majesty will deign to lend a gracious ear to my humble playing,” said Bach, modestly, “I am ready.” He seated himself at the piano, and after extemporizing a little in his own masterful way, played Marchand’s song through in most graceful style, and then varied it twelve times, each variation displaying originality and constantly increasing skill and musical scholarship. His auditors, even the connoisseurs, listened almost breathlessly. At last he brought his performance to a close with a bold and brilliant passage, rose from the instrument, and after a gracious bow to the sovereign went back quietly to his seat.
The silent astonishment of the assemblage now gave way to a veritable jubilee of applause, and the King, Queen, and Crown Prince were as enthusiastic as the rest. The arrogant but now thoroughly humiliated Frenchman, with rage and hatred in his heart, retired among the crowd and quietly disappeared.
On the morning following the exciting event Marchand received a very courteous letter from Bach, in which, after complimenting him upon his charming and elegant playing, he invited him to select any theme he pleased for variation by the former upon the piano in public, and expressed the hope that Marchand would likewise take one selected by him. The latter replied, accepting the challenge to this musical tournament.
Great preparations were made for the event, under the patronage of the Court. Friedrich August, who anticipated an interesting evening, owing to the rivalry of the two brilliant musicians, after receiving Marchand’s acceptance, selected the great salon of his cabinet minister, Field Marshal Count von Flemming, as the scene of the tournament. The entire Court assembled at the appointed hour. All the leading musicians of Dresden were there. Volumier, cheerful in his confidence of victory, and Bach, quiet and serious as was his wont, came in after the audience was assembled. At nine o’clock the royal pair entered, preceded by Court officials and accompanied by the Count and Countess Flemming. There was one person absent—Jean Louis Marchand!