Away back in 1685, almost two hundred
and fifty years ago, one of the greatest musicians
of the world first saw the light, in the little town
of Eisenach, nestling on the edge of the Thüringen
forest. The long low-roofed cottage where little
Johann Sebastian Bach was born, is still standing,
and carefully preserved.
The name Bach belonged to a long race
of musicians, who strove to elevate the growing art
of music. For nearly two hundred years there
had been organists and composers in the family; Sebastian’s
father, Johann Ambrosius Bach was organist of the
Lutheran Church in Eisenach, and naturally a love
of music was fostered in the home. It is no wonder
that little Sebastian should have shown a fondness
for music almost from infancy. But, beyond learning
the violin from his father, he had not advanced very
far in his studies, when, in his tenth year he lost
both his parents and was taken care of by his brother
Christoph, fourteen years older, a respectable musician
and organist in a neighboring town. To give his
little brother lessons on the clavier, and send him
to the Lyceum to learn Latin, singing and other school
subjects seemed to Christoph to include all that could
be expected of him. That his small brother possessed
musical genius of the highest order, was an idea he
could not grasp; or if he did, he repressed the boy
with indifference and harsh treatment.
Little Sebastian suffered in silence
from this coldness. Fortunately the force of
his genius was too great to be crushed. He knew
all the simple pieces by heart, which his brother
set for his lessons, and he longed for bigger things.
There was a book of manuscript music containing pieces
by Buxtehude and Frohberger, famous masters of the
time, in the possession of Christoph. Sebastian
greatly desired to play the pieces in that book, but
his brother kept it under lock and key in his cupboard,
or bookcase. One day the child mustered courage
to ask permission to take the book for a little while.
Instead of yielding to the boy’s request Christoph
became angry, told him not to imagine he could study
such masters as Buxtehude and Frohberger, but should
be content to get the lessons assigned him.
The injustice of this refusal fired
Sebastian with the determination to get possession
of the coveted book at all costs. One moonlight
night, long after every one had retired, he decided
to put into execution a project he had dreamed of
for some time.
Creeping noiselessly down stairs he
stood before the bookcase and sought the precious
volume. There it was with the names of the various
musicians printed in large letters on the back in his
brother’s handwriting. To get his small
hands between the bars and draw the book outward took
some time. But how to get it out. After much
labor he found one bar weaker than the others, which
could be bent.
When at last the book was in his hands,
he clasped it to his breast and hurried quickly back
to his chamber. Placing the book on a table in
front of the window, where the moonlight fell full
upon it, he took pen and music paper and began copying
out the pieces in the book.
This was but the beginning of nights
of endless toil. For six months whenever there
were moonlight nights, Sebastian was at the window
working at his task with passionate eagerness.
At last it was finished, and Sebastian
in the joy of possessing it for his very own, crept
into bed without the precaution of putting away all
traces of his work. Poor boy, he had to pay dearly
for his forgetfulness. As he lay sleeping, Christoph,
thinking he heard sounds in his brother’s room,
came to seek the cause. His glance, as he entered
the room, fell on the open books. There was no
pity in his heart for all this devoted labor, only
anger that he had been outwitted by his small brother.
He took both books away and hid them in a place where
Sebastian could never find them. But he did not
reflect that the boy had the memory of all this beautiful
music indelibly printed on his mind, which helped
him to bear the bitter disappointment of the loss
of his work.
When he was fifteen Sebastian left
his brother’s roof and entered the Latin school
connected with the Church of St. Michael at Lueneburg.
It was found he had a beautiful soprano voice, which
placed him with the scholars who were chosen to sing
in the church service in return for a free education.
There were two church schools in Lueneburg, and the
rivalry between them was so keen, that when the scholars
sang in the streets during the winter months to collect
money for their support, the routes for each had to
be carefully marked out, to prevent collision.
Soon after he entered St. Michael’s,
Bach lost his beautiful soprano voice; his knowledge
of violin and clavier, however, enabled him to keep
his place in the school. The boy worked hard at
his musical studies, giving his spare time to the
study of the best composers. He began to realize
that he cared more for the organ than for any other
instrument; indeed his love for it became a passion.
He was too poor to take lessons, for he was almost
entirely self-dependent-a penniless scholar,
living on the plainest of fare, yet determined to
gain a knowledge of the music he longed for.
One of the great organists of the
time was Johann Adam Reinken. When Sebastian
learned that this master played the organ in St. Katharine’s
Church in Hamburg, he determined to walk the whole
distance thither to hear him. Now Hamburg was
called in those days the “Paradise of German
music,” and was twenty-five good English miles
from the little town of Lueneburg, but what did that
matter to the eager lad? Obstacles only fired
him to strive the harder for what he desired to attain.
The great joy of listening to such
a master made him forget the long tramp and all the
weariness, and spurred him on to repeat the journey
whenever he had saved a few shillings to pay for food
and lodging. On one occasion he lingered a little
longer in Hamburg than usual, until his funds were
well-nigh exhausted, and before him was the long walk
without any food. As he trudged along he came
upon a small inn, from the open door of which came
a delightful savory odor. He could not resist
looking in through the window. At that instant
a window above was thrown open and a couple of herrings’
heads were tossed into the road. The herring
is a favorite article of food in Germany and poor
Sebastian was glad to pick up these bits to satisfy
the cravings of hunger. What was his surprise
on pulling the heads to pieces to find each one contained
a Danish ducat. When he recovered from his astonishment,
he entered the inn and made a good meal with part of
the money; the rest ensured another visit to Hamburg.
After remaining three years in Lueneburg,
Bach secured a post as violinist in the private band
of Prince Johann Ernst of Saxe-Weimar; but this was
only to fill the time till he could find a place to
play the instrument he so loved. An opportunity
soon came. The old Thuringian town Arnstadt had
a new church and a fine new organ. The consistory
of the church were looking for a capable organist and
Bach’s request to be allowed to try the instrument
was readily granted.
As soon as they heard him play they
offered him the post, with promise of increasing the
salary by a contribution from the town funds.
Bach thus found himself at the age of eighteen installed
as organist at a salary of fifty florins, with
thirty thalers in addition for board and lodging,
equal, all in all, to less than fifty dollars.
In those days this amount was considered a fair sum
for a young player. On August 14, 1703, the young
organist entered upon his duties, promising solemnly
to be diligent and faithful to all requirements.
The requirements of the post fortunately
left him plenty of leisure to study. Up to this
time he had done very little composing, but now he
set about teaching himself the art of composition.
The first thing he did was to take
a number of concertos written for the violin by Vivaldi,
and set them for the harpsichord. In this way
he learned to express himself and to attain facility
in putting his thoughts on paper without first playing
them on an instrument. He worked alone in this
way with no assistance from any one, and often studied
till far into the night to perfect himself in this
branch of his art.
From the very beginning, his playing
on the new organ excited admiration, but his artistic
temperament frequently threatened to be his undoing.
For the young enthusiast was no sooner seated at the
organ to conduct the church music than he forgot that
the choir and congregation were depending on him and
would begin to improvise at such length that the singing
had to stop altogether, while the people listened
in mute admiration. Of course there were many
disputes between the new organist and the elders of
the church, but they overlooked his vagaries because
of his genius.
Yet he must have been a trial to that
well-ordered body. Once he asked for a month’s
leave of absence to visit Luebeck, where the celebrated
Buxtehude was playing the organ in the Marien Kirche
during Advent. Luebeck was fifty miles from Arnstadt,
but the courageous boy made the entire journey on
foot. He enjoyed the music at Luebeck so much
that he quite forgot his promise to return in one
month until he had stayed three. His pockets
being quite empty, he thought for the first time of
returning to his post. Of course there was trouble
on his return, but the authorities retained him in
spite of all, for the esteem in which they held his
gifts.
Bach soon began to find Arnstadt too
small and narrow for his soaring desires. Besides,
his fame was growing and his name becoming known in
the larger, adjacent towns. When he was offered
the post of organist at St. Blasius at Muelhausen,
near Eisenach, he accepted at once. He was told
he might name his own salary. If Bach had been
avaricious he could have asked a large sum, but he
modestly named the small amount he had received at
Arnstadt with the addition of certain articles of
food which should be delivered at his door, gratis.
Bach’s prospects were now so
much improved that he thought he might make a home
for himself. He had fallen in love with a cousin,
Maria Bach, and they were married October 17, 1707.
The young organist only remained in
Muelhausen a year, for he received a more important
offer. He was invited to play before Duke Wilhelm
Ernst of Weimar, and hastened thither, hoping this
might lead to an appointment at Court. He was
not disappointed, for the Duke was so delighted with
Bach’s playing that he at once offered him the
post of Court organist.
A wider outlook now opened for Sebastian
Bach, who had all his young life struggled with poverty
and privation. He was now able to give much time
to composition, and began to write those masterpieces
for the organ which have placed his name on the highest
pinnacle in the temple of music.
In his comfortable Weimar home the
musician had the quiet and leisure that he needed
to perfect his art on all sides, not only in composition
but in organ and harpsichord playing. He felt
that he had conquered all difficulties of both instruments,
and one day boasted to a friend that he could play
any piece, no matter how difficult, at sight, without
a mistake. In order to test this statement the
friend invited him to breakfast shortly after.
On the harpsichord were several pieces of music, one
of which, though apparently simple, was really very
difficult. His host left the room to prepare the
breakfast, while Bach began to try over the music.
All went well until he came to the difficult piece
which he began quite boldly but stuck in the middle.
It went no better after several attempts. As his
friend entered, bringing the breakfast, Bach exclaimed:-“You
are right. One cannot play everything perfectly
at sight,-it is impossible!”
Duke Wilhelm Ernst, in 1714, raised
him to the position of Head-Concert Master, a position
which offered added privileges. Every autumn
he used his annual vacation in traveling to the principal
towns to give performances on organ and clavier.
By such means he gained a great reputation both as
player and composer.
On one of these tours he arrived in
Dresden in time to learn of a French player who had
just come to town. Jean Marchand had won a great
reputation in France, where he was organist to the
King at Versailles, and regarded as the most fashionable
musician of the day. All this had made him very
conceited and overbearing. Every one was discussing
the Frenchman’s wonderful playing and it was
whispered he had been offered an appointment in Dresden.
The friends of Bach proposed that
he should engage Marchand in a contest, to defend
the musical honor of the German nation. Both
musicians were willing; the King promised to attend.
The day fixed for the trial arrived;
a brilliant company assembled. Bach made his
appearance, and all was ready, but the adversary failed
to come. After a considerable delay it was learned
that Marchand had fled the city.
In 1717, on his return from Dresden,
Bach was appointed Capellmeister to the young Prince
Leopold of Anhalt-Coethen. The Prince was an
enthusiastic lover of music, and at Coethen Bach led
a happy, busy life. The Prince often journeyed
to different towns to gratify his taste for music,
and always took Bach with him. On one of these
trips he was unable to receive the news that his wife
had suddenly passed away, and was buried before he
could return to Coethen. This was a severe blow
to the whole family.
Four years afterward, Bach married
again, Anna Magdalena Wuelkens was in every way suited
for a musician’s wife, and for her he composed
many of the delightful dances which we now so greatly
enjoy. He also wrote a number of books of studies
for his wife and his sons, several of whom later became
good musicians and composers.
Perhaps no man ever led a more crowded
life, though outwardly a quiet one. He never
had an idle moment. When not playing, composing
or teaching, he would be found engraving music on
copper, since that work was costly in those days.
Or he would be manufacturing some kind of musical
instrument. At least two are known to be of his
invention.
Bach began to realize that the Coethen
post, while it gave him plenty of leisure for his
work, did not give him the scope he needed for his
art. The Prince had lately married, and did not
seem to care as much for music as before.
The wider opportunity which Bach sought
came when he was appointed director of music in the
churches of St. Thomas and St. Nicholas in Leipsic,
and Cantor of the Thomas-Schule there. With the
Leipsic period Bach entered the last stage of his
career, for he retained this post for the rest of
his life. He labored unceasingly, in spite of
many obstacles and petty restrictions, to train the
boys under his care, and raise the standard of musical
efficiency in the Schule, as choirs of both churches
were recruited from the scholars of the Thomas School.
During the twenty-seven years of life
in Leipsic, Bach wrote some of his greatest works,
such as the Oratorios of St. Matthew and St. John,
and the Mass in B Minor. It was the Passion according
to St. Matthew that Mendelssohn, about a hundred years
later discovered, studied with so much zeal, and performed
in Berlin, with so much devotion and success.
Bach always preferred a life of quiet
and retirement; simplicity had ever been his chief
characteristic. He was always very religious;
his greatest works voice the noblest sentiments of
exaltation.
Bach’s modesty and retiring
disposition is illustrated by the following little
incident. Carl Philip Emmanuel, his third son,
was cembalist in the royal orchestra of Frederick
the Great. His Majesty was very fond of music
and played the flute to some extent. He had several
times sent messages to Bach by Philip Emmanuel, that
he would like to see him. But Bach, intent on
his work, ignored the royal favor, until he finally
received an imperative command, which could not be
disobeyed. He then, with his son Friedmann, set
out for Potsdam.
The King was about to begin the evening’s
music when he learned that Bach had arrived.
With a smile he turned to his musicians: “Gentlemen,
old Bach has come.” Bach was sent for at
once, without having time to change his traveling
dress. His Majesty received him with great kindness
and respect, and showed him through the palace, where
he must try the Silbermann pianofortes, of which there
were several. Bach improvised on each and the
King gave a theme which he treated as a fantasia,
to the astonishment of all. Frederick next asked
him to play a six part fugue, and then Bach improvised
one on a theme of his own. The King clapped his
hands, exclaiming over and over, “Only one Bach!
Only one Bach!” It was a great evening for the
master, and one he never forgot.
Just after completing his great work,
The Art of Fugue, Bach became totally blind, due no
doubt, to the great strain he had always put upon
his eyes, in not only writing his own music, but in
copying out large works of the older masters.
Notwithstanding this handicap he continued at work
up to the very last. On the morning of the day
on which he passed away, July 28, 1750, he suddenly
regained his sight. A few hours later he became
unconscious and passed in sleep.
Bach was laid to rest in the churchyard
of St. John’s at Leipsic, but no stone marks
his resting place. Only the town library register
tells that Johann Sebastian Bach, Musical Director
and Singing Master of the St. Thomas School, was carried
to his grave July 30, 1750.
But the memory of Bach is enduring,
his fame immortal and the love his beautiful music
inspires increases from year to year, wherever that
music is known, all over the world.