New York is this season and has been for many seasons, “a musical centre,” and has been from time to time visited by travelin’ orchestras, whose histories, from the advent of the first (a band of Sicilian musicians, called “The Comet,” which, like its name, made a splurge for a brief while and then went out in darkness), to the Mexican orchestra of the last Summer, are of Interest. Right after “The Comet” the once famous Tyrolese warblers visited New York and made what the bills call nowadays “an instantaneous hit,” then came “the Swiss Bell ringers,” and the Rainers, another’s Act of Tyrolese warblers, and later on came “The Steiermarkers.” This was the first real orchestra of any account that ever “traveled” in this country. It comprised eighteen people, under the leadership of a man named Rhia, who was the first violin. They played only “light” pieces and did pretty well. The great piece in which they made a furore was Gungl’s Railroad Galop, then a new thing. The success of this piece gave Gungl himself an idea that New York was a big bonanza for him and so he got up an orchestra and came over. But he didn’t pan out as well as he expected, so he took his revenge by givin’ the Americans “fits” in a musical journal.
He was a success as a satirist, if not as a band leader, and his remarks on New York music made New York howl when they were published.
Accordin’ to Gungl all the real good musicians in New York had failed from lack of public appreciation and only three humbugs had succeeded. First among those humbugs he put a woman called Madam Goria Bothe, who was advertised as “prima donna from the Royal Opera in Berlin,” although Gungl said she had never been in Berlin, never seen the emperor and never sung in operas. This woman “sings like a night watchman”–that is, she screeched, wrote Gungl, and she could probably succeed in pleasin’ the Chinese, the Hottentots, the Esquimaux and the New Yorkers, and these only. Next among the musical humbugs he ranks Strakosch, the pianist. A worthy companion of the “prima donna from The Royal Opera at Berlin” Gungl styles him, and last among the three he puts Madam Anna Bishop, who, he says, “was really a good singer if she chose, but who didn’t choose in New York, as she took the Bible’s advice and wouldn’t waste pearls upon swine.” According to Gungl Madam Bishop’s great success in America had been “in the Daughter of the Regiment, which she sung with a hat on her head and a pipe in her mouth, the tobacco pipe nightly callin’ forth the most unbounded applause. I regret now,” winds up Gungl, “that I didn’t lead my band with a tobacco pipe in my mouth.”
After Gungl came the “Saxonia Orchestra” and then “the Lombardi,” both comparative failures pecuniarily. Then came the greatest and best travelin’ orchestra that has ever visited the city and country, the Germania Orchestra. Many of the members of the Germania had belonged to Gungl’s Berlin Band. They were all young men and good musicians. Senschow was their original leader, but Carl Bergmann’s name has been most closely identified with the leadership of the society, as he let it the longest.
The original Germania Orchestra appeared at the Astor Place Opera House just thirty-six years ago. They subsequently performed at the old Broadway “Tabernacle” and then over in Brooklyn. All the deadheads and critics praised ‘em, but the people at first didn’t go to see ‘em, so they got discouraged and lost their grip. After a while they got down to playin’ in “promenade concerts,” and even these were not a success, as “the ghost did not promenade or walk”–that is to say, salary and expenses were not forthcomin’. One Christmas night the Germania announced “a grand holiday promenade concert” which, after waiting till nine o’clock, began with only seven dollars and a half in the house.
About 9:30 the proprietor of the hall “promenaded” into the room and announced that if the rent due was not paid at once he would at once turn off the gas. Quick as a flash the leader of the orchestra, evidently relieved by the suggestion, turned to him and cried: “For heaven’s sake, turn it off.” Then givin’ the signal each musician put his instrument under his arm and walked off the platform, leavin’ the proprietor to turn off the gas, if he chose, and the audience to turn out into the street. Such was the deplorable “wind up” of the great Germania Orchestra.
But, as if to forcibly illustrate the mutability of the amusement affairs, in a few weeks later the Germania Orchestra got a new lease of life, came together once more and became more popular than ever they ‘emselves had expected to become. The orchestra made a hit in Baltimore, then in Boston, then comin’ back to New York took the Metropolis by storm. They now played nightly to $600 houses, with less fuss and less trouble than they used to play to $60. Castle Garden was then a popular place of entertainment, and the manager of this place offered the Germanias big sharin’ terms if they would play at the Battery durin’ the Summer, but the orchestra had got aristocratic by this time and wouldn’t have anythin’ to do at Castle Garden, but went and gave swell concerts at Newport. And their popularity continued unbroken for seven years. In fact, the orchestra finally went to pieces simply on account of its excessive popularity. It was so much in demand and had to travel here, there and everywhere, all over the country, so much, at “one night stands,” as well as in the big cities, that the members, most of whom were married, now got tired of goin’ about, and resigning and leavin’ one by one, the orchestra soon became a mere “shell” and at last disbanded. What was left of it? A victim to its own success. A good many “travelin’” companies would, I dare say, like a chance to “bust up” just as the Germania did.
Durin’ the last three or four years of its course the Germania Orchestra engaged musical stars for its “grand concerts” outside of its own members. Jenny Lind sang for it. So did Sontag. Ole Bull played for it. So did Alfred Jaell and Camilla Urso.
Among the Germania members or performers was a violin player called Albrecht, who had a hobby for collectin’ a musical library.
He got together a valuable and curious collection of musical works and sold ‘em to Joseph W. Drexel, lately so much written about as a probable Republican candidate for governor of New York. This Albrecht was one of the very few musicians who are unselfish, and, as usual in those exceptional cases, he carried his unselfishness too far. He became a communist and went into all sorts of wild schemes for the amelioration of the condition of his fellow man. He became a follower of the communist, Cobet, and settled at Nauvoo after the Mormons had been expelled from there. He was a sincere and conscientious communist, but like others of his class he found that modern communism had little sincerity or conscience in it, bein’ principally gas and petroleum. So he gave up this idealism and got married to a sensible wife, who gave him the best thing a man can get, somethin’ to work for like a sensible man. But just as he, havin’ got over his musical craze and his socialist craze, tackled work, he died.
But, before he died, he had written so favorably of the prospects of America to some European friends and correspondents, that, gettin’ a sight of these letters, Jullien, the French orchestra leader, who had previously had his thoughts directed to America, made up his mind to come over here.
Jullien’s band was really a magnificent one, embracin’ over forty performers, all first-class. The Mollenhauer brothers, afterwards so well known in New York musically, were members of Jullien’s band. Jullien himself was the best conductor in New York has ever seen until Gilmore’s time. He was the first to introduce the “Composers Night,” or concerts entirely devoted to the works of one composer. This idea made a stir from the start. Jullien was also the first foreign musician of any prominence who played the works of American composers. He brought out several productions of H. W. Frye and George Bristow, and liked America as much as America liked him. It was a thousand pities that such a man and a musician as Jullien should have committed suicide. He was too good a man to throw himself away that way.
