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Updated: May 14, 2025
You know, chevalier, that it is impossible to refuse Madame de Maine anything. "Poor Bathilde was obliged to give way, and half laughing, half crying, she consented, on two conditions. The first, that she might go herself to her friend Buvat to explain her absence; the second, that she might remain at home all that evening and the next morning in order to study the unfortunate cantata.
Prudent Mrs. Palma rose at that moment, and the party left the dining-room. Mrs. St. Clare called Regina to her sofa, to make some inquiries about the Cantata, and when the latter was released, he saw that both Mr. Chesley and Mr. Palma were absent. A half-hour elapsed, during which Olga continued to annoy the learned small man with her irreverent flippancy, and Mrs.
Then Doc Sulloway come out and told some funny anecdotes about two Irishmen named Pat and Mike, lately landed in this country and looking for work, and imitated two cats in a backyard, and drawing a glass of soda water, and sawing a plank in two; and winding up with the announcement that he had donated a dozen bottles of the great Indian Snake Oil Remedy for man and beast that had been imparted to him in secret by old Rumpatunk, the celebrated medicine man, who is supposed to have had it from the Great Spirit; and Ed Bemis, the World's Challenge Cornetist, entertained one and all; and Beryl Mae done her Spanish dance that I'd last seen her give at the Queen Esther Cantata in the M.E. Church.
These were Parry's "King Saul" a very recondite, musicianly composition but too long; "The Swan and the Skylark," a fanciful little cantata by Goring Thomas; and a "Stabat Mater" by G. Henschel. Nothing at the Festival of 1897 made any mark. There was a new "Requiem" by Stanford, but like many other Requiems, it rather celebrated its own death.
These were never out of my mind; I learned four or five by heart, and among the rest, 'The Sleeping Cupids', which I have never seen since that time, though I still retain it almost entirely; as well as 'Cupid Stung by a Bee', a very pretty cantata by Clerambault, which I learned about the same time.
He, too, was alone when he wrote that, feverish, somnolent, in that semitorpid condition which precedes the last great sleep: he sat dreaming by the fireside: all round him were heavy drowsy melodies, like stagnant water: he dwelt on them, like a child half-asleep delighting in some self-told story, and repeating some passage in it twenty times: so sleep comes, then death.... And Christophe heard fleetingly that other music, with burning hands, closed eyes, a little weary smile, heart big with sighs, dreaming of the deliverance of death: the first chorus in the Cantata of J. S. Bach: "Dear God, when shall I die?"... It was sweet to sink back into the soft melodies slowly floating by, to hear the distant, muffled clangor of the bells.... To die, to pass into the peace of earth!... Und dann selber Erde werden.... "And then himself to become earth...."
Many other "Lauds," however, were rather more in the manner of short songs than in that of the subsequently developed cantata. The music employed was without doubt that of the popular songs of the time. It appears to have made no difference to the Italians what kind of tune they employed.
Paul, and local amusement lovers were delightfully entertained by these celebrities during their sojourn. During the war a number of dramatic and musical performances were given at the Athenaeum for the boys in blue. The cantata of "The Haymakers," for the benefit of the sanitary commission made quite a hit, and old residents will recollect Mrs. Winne, Mrs. Blakeley and Prof.
After the fireworks the Emperor and Empress went first into the record room, then into the concert hall, where was sung a cantata, with words by Arnault and music by Mehul, which began with this apostrophe to the Empress:
She, too, has done more ambitious work, such as a Rossetti Christmas Carol, the contralto solo, "The Quest," eight settings of Stevenson's poems, the Wedding Music for eight voices, piano, and organ, and a cantata, "The Golden Asp." Mrs. C. Merrick, who publishes her works over the name of Edgar Thorn, is another talented woman who displays great gifts in small forms.
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