These wondrous
incidents, more or
less correctly
reported, could not
fail to appear in
the press. Several
of the Parisian
newspapers dealt
with this, and then
all the others.
During one week Mr.
Bach's spinet, with
its supernatural
accessories, was the
great sensation of
amateurs of
novelties in the
French city. The
whole was judged as
incomprehensible,
all admitted the
facts, classifying
them as mysteries
that they dared not
deepen, and trusted
in the existence of
some natural law
that would explain
them; but no one
doubted the facts,
because of the solid
reputation and
integrity for which
Mr. Bach was known.
After some time,
this excitement was
replaced by other
sensational news,
without that
specific one having
had any solution or
explanation.
The song was
published, and as in
the original, it was
only the singing
part without
accompaniment, Mr.
Bach arranged it
with great taste and
insight. The lyrics
were beautiful. The
words were adapted
to touching
romance.
Refrain
I have lost the one
for which I had so
much love,
She, so beautiful,
had for me each day,
A new favor and new
desire;
Oh! Yes! Without her
I must die.
1st verse
One day, during a
distant hunt,
I saw her for the
first time;
I thought I saw an
angel in the plain,
Then I became the
happiest of the
Kings!
More!
2nd verse
I would certainly
give my whole
kingdom
To see her again for
a moment,
Near the island,
seated beneath a
humble thatch,
To feel my heart
beating, while
admiring her.
More!
3rd verse
Sad and cloistered,
oh! My poor
beautiful
Was far from me her
last days.
She no longer feels
her cruel suffering,
Here below,
unfortunately! ... I
still suffer!
Ah!
These verses contain
two special
allusions; one to
its royal author, in
love with a person
seen on the occasion
of a distant hunt,
and the other to a
lady who ended her
days in a cloister.
The publication of
the above-mentioned
incidents and the
mysterious song gave
rise to several
searches in the
annals of the
sixteenth century in
order to establish
the value of Mr.
Bach's story.
According to the
best biographers,
one soon learned
that the object of
this great passion
of Henry's life had
been Princess Maria
de Cleves, who seems
to have died in an
abbey.
There was also a
passage in the work
of the diligent
chronicler, Abbot
Lenglet Dufresnoy
that says: "In 1579
Baltazzarini, famous
Italian musician,
came to France and
lived at the court
of Henry III".
I decided to get as
many witnesses as
possible, and I
found some other
important
particulars.
HENRY, THE LAST OF
THE VALOIS
- This favorite son
of Catherine de
Medicis is best
known for a great
crime of his life:
that of having
consented to the
massacre of St.
Bartholomew, which
occurred and was
instigated by his
mother and ordered
by his older
brother, Carlos IX,
in August of 1572.
Henry, however, was
not devoid of other
excellent qualities.
At the age of
nineteen, he won for
his brother the
battles of Jarnac
and Montcontour,
acquiring a military
reputation that
earned him the
throne of Poland.
One of the most
meticulous modern
historians says:
"Henry wished to
lead a palatial
life, divided
between the pious
exercises and the
pleasures of the
city, between the
retreat and the
ostentation of the
sovereign
magistracy". He was
little inclined to
cultivate the
relations of the old
generals,
politicians and men
of knowledge,
preferring the
company of cheerful
and handsome young
men, who imitated
him in the
irreproachability of
the garments and the
brilliance of the
ornaments". (*)
But this only shows
us one of the faces
of his character.
"His nature, says
Ranke, resembled
that of
Sardanapalus, who,
in times of
prosperity, gave
himself up to the
enervating lust,
but, in adversity,
he became brave and
daring ... His
faults were linked
to these two
qualities His lack
of morality,
inclination to
worldly pleasures,
and submission to
some favorites gave
rise to a general
and well-grounded
resentment, but
occasionally he rose
to the height of his
vocation,
manifesting an
intellectual
capacity worthy of
his elevated
position; and
although he was
subject to many
hesitations, he was
a soul greatly
susceptible of good
deeds".
Such was the king,
who, according to
what was alleged in
Mr. Bach's dream,
composed the
above-mentioned
elegiac chant. The
lady's name, for
which he wept, was
not mentioned there;
but, confirmed the
veracity of the song
there can be no
doubt about his
personality.
Beatriz's name is no
longer intimately
bound to Dante's
memory, or Laura's
to Petrarch's, than
that of Maria de
Cleves to that of
Henry III. No
detailed history of
this time, however,
and no Henry's
biographer mentions
her.
He met her, when he
was still Duke of
Anju, and intended
to marry her; but
she was Protestant,
and he was Catholic,
of the Medicis'
blood. This
difference of
religion,
insurmountable in
the eyes of the
Queen Mother, seems
to have been the
only reason for not
having made such a
marriage.
She married in July
1572 with the Prince
of Conde, one of the
Protestant leaders;
in the following
year of 1573, Henry
left France to
ascend to the throne
of Poland, taking
with him, according
to Chateaubriand,
the guilt of the
massacre of St.
Bartholomew, and
even stronger, the
pain of his defeat
in love. "He wrote
with blood", says
this historian, "a
letter to Mary of
Cleves, Henry, the
Prince of Conde’s
first wife".
Charles IX passed
away in 1574 and
Henry returned soon
from Poland to
Paris, as heir of
the throne of
France. One month
after his arrival,
Maria died, and this
death was a blow so
deep that he spent
many days without
eating, enclosed in
a room lined with
black, and when he
appeared, he dressed
in mourning clothes,
sown with figures
representing skulls.
The poets of those
days mention Henry's
deep sorrow.
In the works of
Pasquier,
contemporary of
Henry, there is a
monody about the
death of Maria de
Cleves that the poet
pretends was said by
the King himself.
All this fits
perfectly with what
history tells us
about this lady.
MARIA DE CLEVES
- This princess
seems to have been
almost as remarkable
for her grace and
beauty as her
celebrated namesake,
Mary of Scotland.
She had been admired
at the court of
Charles IX for her
kindness and
virtues. The poets
of that time
celebrated her with
the name of - The
Beautiful Maria; and
the fascination
which her charms
exercised upon Henry
was such that the
credulity of time
attributed it to
witchcraft.
We will find a
testimony about the
character of this
lady and the deep
pain that her loss
caused to the King
in the following
text from a
manuscript dealing
with the reigns of
Henry III and Henry
IV of Pedro
l'Estoile, Lord of
Grand, a nobleman of
a well-known family,
occupying an
important place in
the magistracy and
the Parliament of
Paris. "On Saturday,
October 30, 1574, he
died in Paris, in
the prime of his
age, leaving a
daughter, Mrs. Maria
de Cleves, Marquise
d'Isle, wife of
Henry the Bourbon,
prince of Conde. Of
singular kindness
and beauty, reason
for which the King
loved her madly, to
the point of
Cardinal Bourbon,
her political uncle,
having to receive
the King in his
abbey of
Saint-Germain-des-Pres,
removed the body of
the princess, and
ordered the King not
to enter while her
body was there. On
her deathbed, she
said that she had
married the most
generous but also
the most jealous
prince of France,
though she was aware
that she had never
given him the least
reason for his
jealousy.
I did not find
positive proof that
Mary spent her last
days in the abbey
where her body was
buried; but it is
very likely that
this really
occurred.
We know that she
died in Paris, and
that her husband,
Prince de Conde,
fearing that the
Queen Mother might
attempt against his
life, had, a few
months before, taken
refuge in Germany,
where he remained
until the end of
1575, that is, up to
one year after the
death of Mary. Her
father had died many
years before. The
prince, undoubtedly
living as an
expatriate,
entrusted the woman
to the care of his
uncle, the Cardinal
de Bourbon. The
Cardinal, of course,
resided in his abbey
and it was only
natural that he
should receive the
niece there, an
orphan and deprived
of her husband's
company. Her life
must have been sad,
ignoring the fate of
her husband! All
this is in agreement
with the lyrics of
the song.
Let us now say
something about the
musician, the Spirit
of which, as they
say, manifested.
BALTAZZARINI
- This name is not
found in the
Biographie Generale
or Biographie
Universale. But
after a long search,
when I was desperate
to find any
biographical news of
such a character, I
was fortunate enough
to discover in the
Library of Athenaeum
in Boston a French
dictionary of
remarkable musicians
in eight or nine
volumes; and there I
found the name of
Henry's favorite. It
reads:
"Baltazzarini, an
Italian musician
known in France
under the name of
Joyful (Beaujoyeux),
was the first
violinist of his
time. Brissac's
Marshal brought him
from Piemonte in
1577 to the court of
Queen Catherine Of
Medicis, who made
him music director
and first gentleman.
Henry III entrusted
to him the direction
of the parties of
the palace, position
that he always
played to general
contentment. He was
the first one that
had the idea of a
dramatic spectacle,
combined with music
and dance".
Baltazzarini,
therefore, lived in
the court of Henry
with the nickname of
Beaujoyeux
(the
beautiful-cheerful).
This combines with
the dedication of
the spinet, written
by the King, where
he calls him the
gay mucisien
(the cheerful
musician), and with
the writing by the
hand of the medium,
which reads: très
bon mucisien (very
good musician).
It is not possible
to find a stronger
proof of
authenticity than in
these small
incidents.
What shall we say
about the story told
to Mr. Bach? The
documents I have
gathered have been
obtained for me by a
friendly Englishman
living in Paris,
whom I will never
have the words to
express, as a wish
of my gratitude for
his disinterested
and indefatigable
benevolence and
whose name I would
very much like to
make known. This
friend, having dealt
with Mr. Bach,
personally obtained
from him all the
particulars,
confirmed by the
journalistic
publications and by
the documents that I
now possess, such as
photographs provided
by Mr. Bach's
obsequiousness,
accompanied by the
certificate below
and the facsimile of
the original music:
"It is a correct
facsimile of the
sheet of music paper
I found on my bed in
the morning of May
5, 1865. The song
and lyrics are
exactly the ones I
had heard in my
dream. - NG Bach".
In addition, Mr.
Bach, answering to
my suggestion, which
many may find
importunate, did the
favor of writing me
a letter dated March
23, 1867, in which
he says: "I attest
to the existence of
the parchment which
is still in my
possession,
containing the verse
composed by the King
and addressed to the
celebrated musician
Baltazzarini, and
which was found in a
secret crevice of
the spinet that the
King had given him,
and I declare that
the communication
announcing the
existence of this
parchment and the
place where it was
is strictly real, as
well as the
reproduction of the
autograph of the
music and the
lyrics, were
executed with care
and are perfectly
accurate".
This is the case,
with all its
important details.
The reader will
decide whether,
considering these
circumstances, this
is a phony.
What is the purpose?
No worldly gain was
there. Rather
serious risk and,
perhaps, injury. The
risk of being
deceived, suspected,
accused of
monomania, or
perhaps of
conspiring to
deceive the world
with a series of
combined scams,
involving a
sacrilegious lie and
aiming at sacred
things, relative not
only to this but to
the other world too.
By doing so, he runs
the risk of losing a
firm reputation
regarding his
integrity of a long
and honorable life.
And, moreover, he
would bring to his
house importunate
and impertinent
visitors,
questioners,
disturbing the
quietness so dear to
an enlightened and
scholarly
sexagenarian.
If, however, the
character and all
conceivable motives
give rise to no
suspicion, the
circumstances are
such that fraud
could only be
sustained with
extreme
difficulties. The
friend to whom I owe
my documents showed
the original of the
song to Mr. D., one
of the greatest
harmonists of our
day, a perfect
treasure of musical
instruction. This
gentleman examined
it as a critic, and
declared that he saw
the exact style of
the time, the
imitation of which
demanded not only a
great musical
genius, but also a
special study of the
way of life at that
time. Mr. D., who
does not believe in
the communication of
the Spirits, did not
attempt to explain
the mystery, and
only said that,
although Mr. Bach
was an illustrious
musician, he thought
it absolutely
impossible that
he was the author of
that song; and even
if he could do it,
he would not be able
to do it in a single
night and without
recourse to the old
authorities.
And what can be said
about the
coincidences between
the words of the
song and the
incidents of the
lives of Henry III
and Mary of Cleves?
All the allusions
were justified,
except that of the
distant hunt. Let
Sadducees mock the
belief in the
unseen; I confess I
have this belief,
and if I ever have
the opportunity to
consult the Library
of the British
Museum or the
Imperial Library of
France, I hope to
check this point.
Think of the small
things I mentioned.
Could anyone combine
a plan of falsehoods
and indications in
order to explain all
the variations
between the
predicted and the
original stanza? And
that (ma) so
well explained? -
And that si
so correct, although
it seems a mistake?
- And even the
variations, in the
way of writing the
name of the
musician? -
something very
natural, if we have
in view the
uncertain spelling
of those days, but
how improbable to be
presented today? It
was only after long
meditations and,
inductively, that I
concluded that the
words triste et
cloistrèe were
in perfect accord
with the facts. How,
then, to believe
that a remote
reference could, on
the mysterious
night, lead Mr. Bach
to the same
conclusion?
Moreover, if the
communication
indicating the
hiding place of the
parchment was an
invention, then Mr.
Bach would have
already found it,
without any
indication, before
exposing the spinet
in the Retrospective
Museum.
But, is it within
the limits of
probable, the fact
that the surprising
discovery of such an
interesting document
having been
calculatedly
concealed by
someone; of being
the spinet, under a
false pretext,
exposed in the
museum, and then
presenting itself to
the forged
communication as a
motive to have it
fetched and to
proceed to a
pretended
examination?
I do not think the
passionless reader
will accept such
shocking
improbabilities; and
if he does not
accept them, what
interesting
suggestions, in
relation to
spiritual
communications and
the identity of
Spirits, are
contained in the
simple story of Mr.
Bach's spinet?
CONCLUSION
– Since the personal
data of the
individuals was very
limited, it was
difficult to prove
and confirm these
reports. However,
as today's personal
information is
increasingly
detailed (birth
certificate,
marriage
certificate,
diplomas of all
types, newspapers,
magazines and
periodicals) we will
have more and more
instruments to prove
these stories. The
one, who survives,
will see.
References:
OWEN, R. D.
Region in Litigation
between this world
and the other,
Rio de Janeiro: FEB,
1982.
SAMPAIO, L. F.,
jornal do leitor,
accessed on
06/30/2006 at 2:32
p.m.
(*) Ranke. (Owen,
1982, pp. 351-368)