The New York herald., 1876-08-17
Too Much for One Larynx.

press as one of the powers that rule nations.
Too Much for One Lnrynx.
There was something in the meagre de-
spatches from Baireuth yesterday painfully
recalling that dsagreeable person who used
to sit by the Roman conquerors during
Triumph recalling to the crowned COM
mander that he was only man. Wagner
was reminded he was mortal. Here was
the hugest operatic show the world has ever
seen stopped as completely as if it were
far Western travelling troupe after taking
part IN steamboat explosion here were
PAIR OF emperors, On empress, full hand
of kings and queens and an entire pack of
princes and serene highnesses getting their
money back at the box office here was Herr
Wagner tearing out the roots Of his hair
lotions and potions around a gigantic couch ;
here were wailing and gnashing of teeth
among eighty-four special correspondents,
despair among belated telegraph operators
and probably forty thousand people turned
over to the gartens and drowning their
all for what? For slight laryngeal intiam-
nation or slight relaxation of the thyreo-
arytenoid ligaments in the throat of Herr
Betz. And who is Herr Betz? At the time
We write of he was a bursted baritone, some
time the pet of the Berinese, descended
from Herr Leatherlungs and the great Burly-
bumbo who sang double d what time the
young bloods of Old England fought o
pitched battle over the rival merits of
Fiddle-de-dee and Fal-de-ral-tit Previous
to his collapse he had been singing the rous-
ing part of Wotan, the God Of the Sun, in
the first and second parts Of the Nibelun-
gen Lied. He had had fine musical edu-
cation. For years he had longed to do
something musically terrible. Having prac-
tised for months to a boiler makers obligato,
with steam whistle interludes. he saw Wag-
ner one day, and hailed him three or four
blocks off with calliope chest note. The
musician of the future thought he would do.
and hired him on tho spot, with q proviso
that he was to find his own lungs. He had
fresh copper-fastened pair for the opening
performance last Sunday, a set Of vocal cords
made Of the best catgut, and q new vul-
canized indiarubber epiglottis. The per-
formance proceeded. Wotan could be
heard above the stage thunder, the bang
ing of the ten six-foot drums and
the tornado Of braying brass. Not rivet
started. He was merely oiled internally,
bathed in lager beer and given some Linn
burger cheese and piece of watermelon.
The second night came and with it the Wal
kiire. He was inflated and sent on. Three
hundred trombones were blown to atoms
and four drums thwacked into flinders, but
Herr Betz as Wotan outsung them
oil. 1t was q triumph, but while
his lungs held out the vulcanized
rubber epiglottis was seen to become
infamed and the catgut cords to grow
limp Hence the row. We pity Herr
Betz, but who will pity Wagner, the man
heard 'Lohengrin" will remember Herr
Blum as the Herald and what tempest of
brass he had to below against. Even that
necessitated the management the year fol-
lowing stufing an effgy, which simply
opened its mouth while the orchestra was
blowing itself black in the face And that
Herald's part was mere ''supe's' work
beside the thunderous vibrations that are
expected to issue from the throat of the god
Wotan. A man would want a windpipe like
a colliery shaft to carry it through without
break from the rumblings in Rheingold to
the explosions of G6tterdimmerung If this
is the music of the future who will be left to
sing it?