University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses

Censorship and magical opera in early nineteenth-century Vienna

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Censorship and magical opera in early nineteenth-century Vienna

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THE UNIVERSITY OF SOUTHERN CALIFORNIA

CENSORSHIP AND MAGICAL OPERA IN EARLY
NINETEENTH-CENTURY VIENNA

A DISSERTATION SUBMITTED TO
THE FACULTY OF THE DEPARTMENT OF MUSICOLOGY
IN CANDIDACY FOR THE DEGREE OF
DOCTOR OF PHILOSOPHY

BY
LISA DE ALWIS

LOS ANGELES, CALIFORNIA
DECEMBER 2012

Copyright © 2012 by Lisa de Alwis
All rights reserved.

To Lucia

iv

Contents

Musical Examples vi
Figures vii
Introduction 1
Chapter 1 7
Censorship in Vienna’s Theaters 7
Introduction 7
The State of Current Scholarship on Censorship 9
The Theater Censor: Franz Karl Hägelin 16
The Scholar: Karl Glossy 19
Censoring the Censor: Karl Glossy’s Selective Transcription (1897) of Karl
Hägelin’s Directive on Viennese Theatrical Censorship (1795) 24
Unpublished Evaluations by Hägelin 52
An Unpublished Document by Hägelin 58
Conclusion 72
Chapter 2 74
Two Case Studies in Censorship 74
Introduction 74
Censorship in 1795 vs. 1829 75
Challenging Authority with Hidden Humor, Music from Wenzel Müller’s Der
30-jährige ABC-Schütz 77
Censoring Don Juan: Theater Censor Franz Karl Hägelin’s Treatment of a
Singspiel by Mozart 92
Conclusion 106
Chapter 3 108
Travestirt und falsch: Two Viennese Parodies (1803 and 1818)
of Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte 108
Introduction 108
Die Zauberflöte and Other Magical Operas in Vienna 109
“Magic” in Magical Opera 116
Perinet as Orion 120
Missing Magic and Technology as Magic in the two parodies of Die
Zauberflöte 130
Censorship in the Parodies 134
Text and Music 136
Milieuherabsetzung 141
Conclusion 143

v

Chapter 4 144
Supernatural Effects in the Dramaturgy and in the Music of Operas from
the Theater in der Leopoldstadt 1799-1828 144
Introduction 144
Joseph Eybler’s Das Zauberschwert 146
Ferdinand Kauer’s Das Donauweibchen 152
Wenzel Müller’s Aline oder Wien in einem anderen Welttheile 160
The Supernatural Chorus 171
The Changing Role of Ghosts 184
Conclusion 191
Epilogue 193
Bibliography 199

vi

Musical Examples

Example 1.1: Beethoven, WoO 91, No. 2 “Soll ein Schuh nicht drücken,”
mm. 29-37. 51

Example 2.1: Opening of the quartet from Der 30-jährige ABC-Schütz by Karl
Friedrich Hensler and Wenzel Müller, mm. 1-5, A-Wst, MH-6547. 85

Example 2.2: Excerpt of quartet from Der 30-jährige ABC-Schütz, mm. 35-54. 87

Example 3.1: Mozart/Schikaneder, Die Zauberflöte, “Zu Hilfe, zu Hilfe, sonst
bin ich verloren.” 137

Example 3.2: Mozart/Perinet, Die Zauberflöte travestirt, “Zu Hilfe, zu Hilfe,
sonst bin ich verloren.” 138

Example 4.1: Alla zoppa rhythm in a ghost chorus from Act II of Das Zauber-
schwert by Karl Friedrich Hensler and Joseph Eybler, A-Wst,
MH-2692. 174

Example 4.2: Gabrino receives conflicting advice from two choirs, in Das
Zauberschwert. 175

Example 4.3: A ghost chorus that is present only in the score of Das Zauber-
schwert. 177

Example 4.4: Opening of the ghost chorus in the Finale of Act III of Das Donau-
weibchen by Karl Friedrich Hensler and Ferdinand Kauer, A-Wn,
Mus.Hs.25140. 181

Example 4.5: The chorus singing about the stormy weather in the Finale of Act III
of Das Donauweibchen. 182

Example 4.6: Excerpt from the Finale of Act IV of Die Teufelsmühle am Wiener-
berge by Karl Friedrich Hensler and Wenzel Müller, D-F, Mus Hs
Opern 412 (1). 184

vii

Figures

Figure 1.1: A page from Hägelin's Verlassenschaftsabhandlung, WStLA, ZG, A2,
Fasz. 2 (Verl.Abh.): 2455/1809.
18

Figure 1.2: Karl Glossy, A-Wst, ZPH-‐602.
20

Figure 1.3: First page of the copy of Hägelin’s document, HHStA,
Gen.
Int.
2,

129½.
22

Figure 1.4: Excerpt from Ignaz Umlauf’s Die schöne Schusterin, A-Wn, Mus.Hs.
16481.
50

Figure
2.1: Hägelin crosses out his own corrections in Don Juan, A-Wn, Mus.Hs.
32702.
96

Figure 2.2: Don Juan’s monologue prior to the “champagne” aria.
101

Figure 2.3: Opening of the “champagne aria” (lower half of page) in Don Juan.
102

Figure 4.1: Poster advertising a performance of Das Zauberschwert in 1803,
A-Wtm, Sammlung Theatergrafik, Plakate und Programme.
148

Figure
4.2: A poster inviting the public to the first performance of Das
Donauweibchen, A-Wst, C-64525.
155

Figure 4.3: A poster advertising the third performance of Aline in 1822, A-Wtm,
Sammlung Theatergrafik, Plakate und Programme.
163

Figure 4.4: Bosphoro in the libretto, from 1796, of Kaspar der Fagottist oder die
Zauberzither, A-Wst, A-110974.
167

Figure 4.5: Scene from Das Gespenst auf der Bastei, in which the ghost hangs
the moon, Adolf Bäuerle, “Gallerie drolliger und interessanter Scenen,”
Vienna, 1827, 13-24.
187

1

Introduction

A
censor
is
a
person
who
has
turned
into
a
pencil,
a
personified
deletion
mark

through
the
creations
of
the
spirit,
a
crocodile
that
lurks
on
the
shores
of
the
river
of

ideas
and
bites
the
heads
off
the
writers
swimming
in
it.

—Johann Nestroy, Freiheit in Krähwinkel (I,14)
1

In writing this dissertation, my goal has been to gain an understanding of some of the
practices surrounding the performance and production of magical operas in order to
present the reader with a clearer view of Viennese cultural life during the early nineteenth
century. The restrictions to which theaters were subjected are an inextricable part of the
picture, and I hope to shed some light on how the bureaucratic system of censorship
affected theatrical works of this period in one way or another. Some of the world’s most
enduring music was written in Vienna, and all of the dramatic works for this city’s stages,
including Mozart’s operas, were subject to and shaped by censorship. My interest lies in
examining some of the less well-known works, which were extremely popular in their
day. The aspects of a work that make it popular can tell us a great deal about the culture
surrounding it, and sometimes the censors’ role was to excise precisely those features.
Since nineteenth-century works had to be resubmitted to the censor each time they were
presented in a new production, censors’ copies of these works provide a wealth of
information about them that would not otherwise be available. Magical operas, an
extremely popular genre in Viennese suburban theaters of the nineteenth century, were,

1
“Ein Zensor ist ein bleistiftgewordener Mensch, ein fleischgewordener Strich über die
Erzeugnisse des Geistes, ein Krokodil, das an den Ufern des Ideenstroms lagert und den
darin schwimmenden Literaten die Köpf’ abbeißt.” Nestroy wrote this in 1848, during the
short period of time when the institution of censorship was abolished.

2

of course, also subjected to the censor’s pen, but as I show, the relationship of these
works to censorship is a nuanced one, which may in part explain why such works exist in
the first place. In order to understand this subject, I needed to draw upon material from
several fields outside of music, and the result is a dissertation that can be seen as a
contribution not only to musicology but also to cultural studies.
In my initial hypothesis concerning magical operas and censorship, I assumed that
these works were carefully controlled and parts of them forbidden by censors because
any encouragement of Aberglauben (superstition) in the form of magic on the stage
would not have been desirable, particularly to an “enlightened” monarch such as Joseph
II. A law that deemed acts of magic criminal had been put into effect already under his
mother, Maria Theresia, in 1769,
2
and it seems reasonable to think that at least
discouragement of magic would have applied to the theater as well. A further reason for a
negative view of magic on the stage may have been its potential connections with the
sacred and the perception that magic on the stage makes a mockery of religion and its
mysteries. But my interest lies in the early nineteenth century, in many ways a more
restrictive period in Vienna than the eighteenth century and also a time when magical
operas flourished. In the years following the outbreak of the French Revolution, Austrian
writers, who had enjoyed a period of relative freedom under Joseph II, were subjected to
severe censorship.
3
Francis II (I), worried that a similar uprising could occur on Austrian

2
Hermann Gnau, Die Zensur unter Joseph II (Strassburg and Leipzig: Josef Singer,
1911), 17.
3
Bodo Plachta has pointed out that the idea of freedom of the press under Joseph should
not be understood in a modern sense: “Josephinian censorship reform, no doubt the most
meaningful occurrence in the history of Enlightenment censorship, attempted to bring
authors and printers and dealers of books closer to voluntary self-monitoring, but it never
relinquished the right to intervene if national interests were endangered.” (“Die

3

soil, curtailed the activities of publishers and restricted public gatherings throughout the
empire. Practically the only place that people were allowed to come together was at the
theater, and it was therefore in the government’s interest to closely control what material
was allowed onto the stage. Much of the dissertation deals with how both magical operas
and the institution of censorship changed from the eighteenth century to the early
nineteenth century, but also within the nineteenth century, between 1800 and around
1830. Such developments are all the more interesting because of the particularly unstable
political situation in Austria during this period. In addition to becoming more restrictive,
the institution of censorship also became more bureaucratic, and while the official goal
was to better organize how works were processed, the actual effect on them was
devastating. Magical operas of this period, although they were affected by those
restrictions, reflect a discernible change in societal attitudes toward magic and the
supernatural. Magic was no longer tied to religion or viewed as detrimental to the
audience, so authors writing magical works were afforded more freedom than those
writing other types of pieces.
When I began studying censorship, I was aware of the fact that a large number of
original documents regarding theatrical censorship in late eighteenth-century and early
nineteenth-century Vienna had been destroyed in the 1927 fire of the Justizpalast. In
Vienna today, there is a joke among some scholars that the advantage of this is that they
can simply blame the blaze when they are unable to locate a certain document. While this

josephinische Zensurreform, das wohl bedeutendste Ereignis der Zensurgeschichte der
Aufklärung, versuchte zwar, Autoren, Buchdruckern und Buchhändlern den
Gesichtspunkt freiwilliger Selbstkonrolle nahe zu bringen, gab aber zu keinem Zeitpunkt
das Eingriffsrecht des Staates auf, wenn die Staatsräson in Gefahr geriet.”) Bodo Plachta,
Damnatur Toleratur Admittitur (Tübingen: Max Niemeyer Verlag, 1994), 3.

4

may indeed be convenient, it is not always accurate, and there are a number of surviving
manuscripts or copies of manuscripts, many still awaiting discovery, that could add to our
knowledge of cultural life in late eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century Austria. My
initial plan was to write about magical opera and its unique environment in the suburban
Viennese theaters, referring to censorship only as needed, but my fortuitous discovery, in
February of 2009, of a copy of the famous censorship directive written by the main
Viennese censor of the late eighteenth century, Karl Franz Hägelin, naturally changed the
course of my research.
In the first chapter I present this discovery and explain why it should replace the
incomplete publication that scholars have relied upon since the late nineteenth century. In
addition to filling the gaps that the scholar Karl Glossy left when publishing Hägelin’s
document, I discuss the reasons for which he may have made these omissions. Other
newly discovered documents by Hägelin, which explain some of the developments within
the censorship bureaucracy in the first years of the nineteenth century, form the basis of
my discussion in the concluding pages of the chapter.
For the second chapter, I found it useful to focus more narrowly on the specific
effects of censorship on two operas that were censored at two different times. This study
shows how the criteria for censorship changed between the early nineteenth century,
when Hägelin was still working, and its third decade, when multiple censors operating
under stricter rules took issue with aspects of works that had previously been considered
acceptable. I also address issues of musical censorship and the potential for music to
offend and to challenge authority. The more famous of the two pieces is Don Juan, a
singspiel version of Mozart’s Don Giovanni, which was heavily censored several times

5

within a short period of time. The removal of the rape scene, the addition of comic
characters, and other changes resulted in a significantly different piece from Mozart and
Da Ponte’s original.
In Chapter 3, I move further away from censorship (although it is always
considered when relevant) and delve instead into the repertoire of the suburban theaters.
Taking the greatest example of magical opera, Mozart and Schikaneder’s Die
Zauberflöte, as my starting point, I consider the context out of which it arose by
surveying magical operas from the years immediately prior to its premiere and by taking
a closer look at a few of the least-known ones. Most of the chapter treats two parodies of
Die Zauberflöte, and I discuss the surprising ways in which magic is handled in them.
After considering the text and the music of the parodies, I conclude with some thoughts
on what aspects of Viennese society were being parodied and how.
The fourth and final chapter takes a larger sample of magical operas from
Vienna’s Theater in der Leopoldstadt and discusses their music, their handling of magic
and the supernatural, and of course, their treatment by censors. Although their styles are
not indistinguishable from one another, the suburban theater composers were subject to
different pressures than were those composers who only wrote an occasional piece for
those houses. This difference in the quality of the music (and sometimes the text), which
we might see as relevant today, seems not to have influenced whether a work was or was
not popular with audiences. For the final sections of the chapter, I chose to focus on
supernatural choruses and ghosts, both of which are quite common in these works, in
order to understand the similarities and differences in how various librettists and
composers treated the otherworldly.

6

The main reason I was able to undertake the kind of research I present in this
dissertation is that I spent one and a half years in Vienna working with some of the
invaluable library and archival resources that exist there in the form of manuscript scores,
librettos, and other documents. On top of many hours spent reading these materials, I
faced the additional challenges of becoming fluent in reading the German cursive script
known as Kurrentschrift as well as the problem that some of the material related to
censorship is not catalogued. I was helped along the way by several kind archivists and
librarians, whose trust I gained over time, and who allowed me to look at some of this
unprocessed material that is not usually accessible to the public. Countless unforgettable
experiences with these documents, including such mundane ones as riding the subway
covered in soot from blackened manuscripts that survived the fire in the Justizpalast,
served to shape my approach to my topics and to the writing process.

7

Chapter 1
Censorship in Vienna’s Theaters

Introduction

Censorship of theatrical works in Vienna between 1770 and 1804 was entrusted to
Franz Karl Hägelin who, by 1795, when he wrote the censorship guidelines discussed
below, had been carrying out his duties for twenty-five years. His career began under
Empress Maria Theresia, and all theaters in the Habsburg lands, at least theoretically, fell
under his jurisdiction. In the Viennese Hof- und Staats-Schematismen, Hägelin’s name
can be found in a list of book censors, but this annual catalog of Habsburg employees
does not mention that he was the only censor responsible for theatrical works.
4
Hägelin’s
signature can also be found on both printed and manuscript copies of various plays and
librettos—he sometimes commented extensively and added many suggestions and even
corrections to the texts. He was active in his work until the end of 1804,
5
witnessing the
profound political upheavals that rocked the Empire and participating in the formation of
the increasingly restrictive system of government that defines the Biedermeier period.
We know Hägelin’s writings largely because of the efforts of the late nineteenth-
century scholar Karl Glossy, an important figure in Viennese life during this period. His
publications of manuscripts that were later destroyed in the fire at the Justizpalast form

4
Hägelin is listed as a nieder-österreichischer Regierungsrath, an honorary title that was
conferred on men who had served Austria by working in their fields for a long time. Felix
Czeike, Historisches Lexikon Wien (Vienna: Kremayr and Scheriau, 1994), s.v.
“Hägelingasse.”
5
Karl Glossy, Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens (1801-1820), Sonderabdruck aus dem
Jahrbuch der Grillparzer-Gesellschaft, 25. Jahrgang (Vienna: Konegen, 1915), 80.

8

the basis of what is known about theatrical censorship in Vienna during this period.
Glossy’s work is widely cited, and all scholars refer to his publications when discussing
censorship. Newly discovered documents show, however, that his work is incomplete in
significant ways and needs to be revised and reintroduced to the scholarly community.
In general, censors were not looking at musical scores, but their cuts to musical
texts within librettos sometimes appear more severe than in similar, non-musical places.
Music may have exacerbated certain offensive aspects of the text and may in fact have
been one of the few remaining outlets for them, since the censors’ access to and
knowledge of scores was probably minimal. A certain familiarity with methods of
censorship and the criteria according to which censors passed their judgments can be
helpful in order to form an accurate picture of eighteenth- and nineteenth-century
theatrical works in Vienna. After discussing the current state of research on the subject, I
provide some biographical information on both Hägelin and Glossy, drawing upon
previously unpublished documents in order to shed light on their work. Placing Glossy in
the context of his time while allowing Hägelin’s original document to come to the
forefront will provide both a more complete understanding of how censors were expected
to approach their work, as well as some insight into nineteenth-century methodologies.
This sets the stage for presenting Hägelin’s censorship guidelines in their complete form
together with a detailed discussion of Glossy’s omissions and some thoughts as to why he
dealt with this and other documents in the way he did. The chapter concludes with a
discussion of other censorship-related documents by Hägelin, many of which are
unknown and have never been published.

9

The State of Current Scholarship on Censorship

Censorship in the eighteenth and nineteenth centuries is not the subject of many
studies, and theatrical censorship in particular is a topic fraught with difficulties. Books
on censorship in German-speaking lands often avoid the theater, presumably because the
various interactions surrounding the genesis of each piece are perhaps more complex than
those present in a publishing house. Peter Höyng, in his Die Sterne, die Zensur und das
Vaterland, outlines the reasons why modern scholars often avoid addressing censorship
(particularly of the eighteenth century) at all in their work. Briefly summarized, the four
problems Höyng sees are: the interdisciplinary approach necessary to dealing with
censorship, the tendency for discussions of the topic to become diachronic or anecdotal,
the differences in censorship between the many German feudal states, and the general
notion that censorship does not fit with the ideals of the liberal Enlightenment.
6
The most
frequently cited works in the area of Viennese censorship were written by the
aforementioned Karl Glossy, and will be discussed in detail below.
7
If scholarship is
sparse in the field of theatrical censorship, it is almost nonexistent for that of music.
Musical censorship is often addressed only in passing by musicologists, because we are
not aware of any censored scores; however, musical numbers in librettos are often
censored and, as will be explained both in this and subsequent chapters, these changes
directly affect the music and its performance.

6
Peter Höyng, Die Sterne, die Zensur und das Vaterland (Cologne: Böhlau, 2003), 96-
117. See also Plachta, 50-78.
7
Other older works that are more accurate than Glossy’s but that do not focus on theater
censorship include Hermann Gnau’s book and Oskár Sashegyi’s Zensur und
Geistesfreiheit unter Joseph II (Budapest: Akadémíai Kiadó, 1958).

10

Höyng acknowledges the differences in censorship between the various German-
speaking states and singles out the Habsburg lands as a particularly strict case.
8
To
provide just one example of these differences: an article from 1798 on the interpretive
freedoms of various characters on stage in the north German city of Altona (today a
borough of Hamburg), discusses how censors often remove religious characters from
plays if they are villains. By contrast, in Vienna, religious figures were prohibited to
appear on stage, whether good or evil. The author of the same article asks, “Do we not
live in times in which one knows to properly distinguish true religion, true worship from
its human servants, from the unpredictable instruments in its service [priests] just as one
recognizes the difference between civil law and its servant, the judge?”
9
In Vienna, the
answer to this question would have been a resounding “no.” Those in power were
certainly not of the opinion that the populace could make such distinctions. According to
the article, educating the audience in the true sense of the Enlightenment and its tenets, as
we understand them today, was one of the purposes of theater in Germany.
For the Habsburg lands, this concept may have held some truth during the reign of
Joseph II, but by 1798, the date of the article, notions of Enlightenment were strictly

8
Höyng discusses Schiller’s Wallenstein and how it was censored in Vienna. Höyng, 88-
93. August von Kotzebue, the famous playwright and director of the court theater in
Vienna during this time, writes to Schiller in 1798 that he will try to bring the work “out
of the fire oven of our censorship office” (“aus dem Feuer Ofen unserer Censur”) in as
unscathed a form as possible. Höyng, cites a letter from Kotzebue to Schiller from
November 3, 1798, in Schillers Werke, NA, Bd. 38.1, p.3. Höyng, 88.
9
“Leben wir denn noch nicht in den Zeiten, wo man ächte Religion, wahre
Gottesverehrung von seinen menschlichen Dienern, von willkührlichen Werkzeugen
seines Dienstes (Priestern) eben so richtig zu unterscheiden weiß, als man den
Unterschied zwischen dem bürgerlichen Gesez und dessen Diener dem Richter erkennt?”
J. W. Stolmers, “Ueber Darstellungsfreiheit verschiedener Charaktere auf der Bühne,”
Neue deutsche Dramaturgie (Altona: Schmid, 1798), 201-2. I am grateful to Edmund
Goehring for calling my attention to this source.

11

forbidden and accordingly excised from all theatrical works in Vienna. The onset of the
French Revolution, followed by the death of Joseph in 1790, represented for censorship,
as W. E. Yates puts it, “the turning point in the development of what had been intended
as a mechanism of didactic enlightenment into an instrument of political repression.”
10

Clearly, the differences in censorship between the Protestant German lands and those
under Habsburg control were significant.
My study, with its focus on the characteristic aspects of Viennese censorship, is
prone to criticism by Höyng on account of its use of anecdotal evidence, but given the
lack of research on this subject, such a focus need not be considered negatively. Regional
studies that make use of surviving documents can form the basis upon which future
theoretical works such as Höyng’s could be constructed. Höyng and other scholars make
little use of original materials and insist that they are no longer available.
11
Höyng’s
discussion of the political tensions surrounding the censorship of Joseph Marius von
Babo’s piece, Otto von Wittelsbach, is interesting, but he could have strengthened his
arguments either by using the censored manuscript as his starting point or, if it was not
available to him, by discussing a piece for which the censored document is extant. While
it is undoubtedly difficult to do successful archival research and simultaneously engage
critically on deeper levels with the material, it is surely counterproductive to form
theories on censorship without taking actual censored manuscripts into consideration.
This is not to say that such theories lack any value, but my own research leans toward the

10
W. E. Yates, Theatre in Vienna (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996), 26.
11
This tendency has been commented upon, for instance, by Johann Hüttner in his “Vor-
und Selbstzensur bei Johann Nestroy,” Maske und Kothurn 26 (1980): 234-48. Bodo
Plachta writes in his introduction about the importance of continued work with primary
sources on censorship and warns of earlier secondary sources containing them that do not
measure up to modern editorial standards; 6-7.

12

archival because I am convinced that deeper, overarching theories first need a basis
beyond the continual rehashing and the repeated citation of a few known and sometimes
unreliable works of scholarship.
There are some studies that successfully combine archival research with broader,
theoretical conclusions. One important book that Höyng neglects to mention incorporates
published materials from the period as well as more recent work to form conclusions
about how censorship affected Viennese society. Leslie Bodi begins the foreword to his
fascinating Tauwetter in Wien with the humble comment that it should no longer be
necessary to write the history of literature in such a positivistic form—his point being, of
course, that such histories are precisely what are needed.
12
In Bodi’s opinion the literature
of Josephinian Vienna had been previously dismissed as unimportant and should
therefore be reintroduced to readers. The greater part of the material he discusses exists in
the form of the pamphlets that flooded Vienna in the 1780s. Bodi’s book can certainly not
be dismissed as merely anecdotal, and while it deals with a specific period of time—
another of Höyng’s objects of criticism regarding studies on censorship, it is not clear
why diachronic studies should be problematic rather than helpful. Höyng does not find
the study of what he calls a cross section of a subject over time to be useful, because it
inevitably leaves out important aspects, and because no number of such studies could
possibly cover all the variables and complexities inherent in the censorship process.
13
It is
as though, for Höyng, the impossibility of collecting and analyzing all data makes the
collection and analysis of some data irrelevant. This seems in itself to be a positivistic

12
Leslie Bodi, Tauwetter in Wien (Frankfurt: S. Fischer, 1977), 11. Höyng does not see
the value in such positivistic work, saying that it fails to consider overarching issues in
the study of censorship. Höyng, 108.
13
Höyng, 103-5.

13

argument of the very kind that Höyng criticizes. In fact, in dealing with complex systems,
one of the approaches in the natural sciences is to pick a subset of variables (proxies) that
are known to describe relevant properties of the system as a whole.
W. E. Yates has written about censored manuscripts in several of his publications,
as have the scholars Fred Walla, Walter Obermaier, Johann Hüttner, and Jürgen Hein.
Many of their studies focus on important playwrights such as Ferdinand Raimund and
Johann Nestroy and have uncovered interesting information that adds further dimensions
to our understanding of the mechanism of censorship in Metternich’s Vienna.
14
One good
example is Nestroy’s self- and pre-censorship: looping ringlet markings in his
manuscripts, whereby he instructed copyists to leave out certain parts that would surely
be objectionable to censors, only to add them back into the piece for performance.
15

It is hard to imagine that manuscript sources showing evidence of censorship
would be so scarce, yet this is apparently what Höyng thinks, judging from his apparent
awe at the discovery by David John of a printed text as well as a manuscript version of
the same play, both of which contained evidence of censorship.
16
Certainly, in Vienna
there is no such scarcity, and it is common to find a hand-written, censored libretto, a
prompter’s libretto, as well as a printed libretto of the same piece—I have found several

14
Friedrich Walla, “Von der Urfassung zur (Ur-) Aufführung oder: Wie echt sind
Nestroys Texte? 1. Teil,” Nestroyana 22 (2002): 101-20; Walter Obermaier, “Raimund
und die Zensur,” in “besser schön lokal reden als schlecht hochdeutsch.” Beiträge zum
Raimund-Symposium im Rahmen der Wiener Vorlesungen 4.-5. Oktober 2004, ed. by
Hubert Christian Ehalt and Jürgen Hein Wiener Vorlesungen Konversatorien und
Studien, Bd. 18 (Vienna: Lehner, 2006), 40-54 and Jürgen Hein,
“Kommentierungsprobleme von Zensurmanuskripten am Beispiel von Nestroys der
Talisman, in Kommentierungsverfahren und Kommentarformen, ed. by Gunter Martens
(Tübingen: Niemeyer, 1993), 47-54.
15
See Hüttner, 239-48; and Yates, 39-42.
16
Höyng, 109.

14

such examples from both the eighteenth and the nineteenth centuries, and I suspect that
the same must be true in other cities as well. What is truly difficult is to find all of the
above in addition to a musical score.
John’s book is a good example of the use of archival sources to draw significant
conclusions, but it is also problematic because the subject of censorship is complex, and
he does not take into account the differences in how the institution was handled both over
time and geographically. The piece Die Martinsgänse, of which John uses the printed text
as his main example of a censored document, was apparently popular in all of the
German-speaking lands, including in Vienna. John found the censored text at the
Austrian National Library, and his first mistake was to assume that it was also censored
in Austria. He states that the censor “Meyer,” whose name and annotations appear in the
text, was “no doubt one of the censors under Regierungsrat Hägelin’s supervision.”
17
The
Viennese censor Franz Karl Hägelin is discussed in detail below, but had John had access
to some basic knowledge about Hägelin, he would have known that he was the only
censor dealing with theatrical works in Vienna until 1802 and that he did not have any
assistants. It would have been more difficult, without more experience with Viennese
censored documents, for John to know that they were never censored in the manner seen
in the text of Die Martinsgänse. In his evaluation on the final page of the text, Meyer lists
all of the page numbers of those pages that contain passages or words that need to be
corrected. This is not a feature either of Hägelin’s style of censorship or even of most of
the later censors in Vienna. Clearly, this play was censored somewhere else, perhaps in a
German city (I have seen similarly censored works in Frankfurt, for example), and it

17
David G. John, The German Nachspiel in the Eighteenth Century (Toronto: University
of Toronto Press, 1991), 279.

15

somehow ended up in a Viennese library later on. Cities of the other German-speaking
lands had different (often less strict) laws and may have had other ways of censoring.
That subject is beyond the scope of my study, but a comparison of the approaches to
censorship in these regions would be quite useful to understanding what happened to a
work before it reached the stage.
As Höyng points out, the act of censoring informs our study of a work and
becomes an instrument of textual analysis; the very omission of material uncovers the
subversive (or what was considered subversive at the time) aspects of the text.
18
Surely,
studying the omitted material is at least as important an instrument of textual analysis as
the omission itself; in approaching a subject such as censorship, it is unthinkable to avoid
the actual censored materials. The censors’ marks are not generally reproduced in
publications; if one published version of a piece is missing some scenes that are present
in another, it can only be surmised but not proven that the piece was censored.
Censorship may “uncover the subversive” in its omissions,
19
but what censors thought
was subversive can only be seen by looking at the original documents. What is lacking in
research so far is a study of how pieces were censored in general, which features were
removed, how the artistic quality of a work was affected and how these changed, for
example, based on particular censors or specific political circumstances. Such a study
would necessarily include less well-known works and treat them just like their famous

18
“Censorship uncovers the ‘subversive’ in the text, the politically motivated aggression
against the house of Habsburg, and it becomes an important instrument of textual
analysis.” (“Die Zensur deckt das ‘Subversive’ des Textes auf, die politisch motivierte
Aggression gegen das Haus Habsburg; sie wird damit zum wichtigen Instrument der
Textanalyse.”) Höyng, 82.
19
Ibid.

16

counterparts. Reducing the problematic reliance on nineteenth- and early twentieth-
century sources in modern scholarship would also improve its quality significantly.
A recent trend in the study of censorship considers the censor and his work as a
positive force, simply one part of a piece’s journey from the pen of its authors to the
stage. This raises questions about the role of the historian or musicologist in relation to
his or her subject of study. Nineteenth- and twentieth-century scholarship was perhaps
hasty in condemning the practice of censorship as detrimental to all the works it affected.
Hägelin is a good example of a “benevolent” censor who was truly trying to improve
pieces and who belonged to the cultural and artistic system that produced the work. On
the other hand, it seems specious to view especially post-revolutionary censorship in
Vienna, especially, as anything but repressive. After Hägelin’s time, as we will see
below, the people in charge of the office of censorship seem to have had little or no
interest in the artistic aspects of the works with which they dealt.

The Theater Censor: Franz Karl Hägelin

According to his death certificate, Franz Karl Hägelin died on June 18, 1809. He
apparently owned a house in Perchtoldsdorf (no. 138, at that time), a town located about
sixteen kilometers southwest of Vienna. Many of the documents filed together with the
death certificate discuss this property, however Hägelin himself is listed as “wohnhaft in
#448 im Schulhof,” (living in #448 in the Schulhof, probably a former schoolyard). This
may have been close to the Fleischmarkt, where the censorship bureau was located and
where Johann Mayrhofer, Schubert’s friend, famously committed suicide by leaping from

17

a window in 1836. In Vienna’s fourteenth district, a street called Schulgasse was renamed
Hägelingasse in 1894, most likely by Karl Glossy.
20
Toward the end of his career,
Hägelin probably moved into the house in Perchtoldsdorf permanently, because he
received scripts and librettos there from the theaters in Vienna. The works arrived in
Perchtoldsdorf on Saturdays and were sent back a week later; this delay (which was
sometimes longer than a week) was cause for complaint by the theater directors and
created some problems for Hägelin, as we will see later on in the chapter.
21

Hägelin had no children and his wife Josepha (née Storpp) is listed as the sole heir
to his estate. Interestingly, her address is given as the Fischerstiege in no. 408 of a
building named “das Petrossische Haus.” This location is also in the first district, not too
far from the Fleischmarkt and would have been the third address for the couple, unless
she moved there after her husband’s death or it belonged to her family. The documents
make clear that the Hägelins were better off than many Viennese. Although the house in
Perchtoldsdorf is said not to be in particularly good condition, it was nevertheless valued
at 2000 florins. The house included several rooms with Tramboden, the ornate Viennese
parquet floors that can still be seen in many buildings today. There was also a stable with
three horses, a stall with four cows, and an orchard with a Lusthaus (a pavillion) and a
stream running through it. According to Gnau, Hägelin earned 500 fl. a year in 1784,

20
Some documents in Glossy’s Nachlass in the Wienbibliothek (Nachlass Karl Glossy,
ZPH-602) indicate that Glossy was involved in naming Viennese streets after famous
figures in the city’s history.
21
Glossy, Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens, 79.

18

Figure 1.1: A page from Hägelin's Verlassenschaftsabhandlung WStLA, ZG, A2, Fasz. 2
(Verl.Abh.): 2455/1809.

so perhaps he was able to afford an apartment as well as a house further away from the
city.
22
Many of the manuscripts filed together with the death certificate regard Josepha

22
Gnau, 229.

19

Hägelin’s fight for exemption from the inheritance tax and include letters that urge the
officials to make their decision quickly, since it will affect the amount that will be
awarded to her as a widow’s pension. As with most Viennese Verlassenschafts-
abhandlungen or estate documents from this time, all the items Hägelin possessed from
silver spoons to underwear are painstakingly listed, with estimated value attached.
23

Figure 1.1 is an image of one page of this document. The more valuable silver items are
listed first, followed by the clothing that Hägelin owned.

The Scholar: Karl Glossy

Karl Glossy was born in the turbulent year of 1848, and a considerable amount of
his work is devoted to studying various aspects of the cultural ramifications of that year’s
revolution, particularly in the area of censorship. In 1889 he became the director of the
Stadt- und Landesbibliothek, today the Wienbibliothek, and when the library moved to its
current location at the Rathaus Glossy gave the inauguration speech. Under his
stewardship, the library’s holdings increased from 16,700 to 40,300 items.
24
Glossy also
acquired important Schubert, Beethoven, and Johann Strauss manuscripts that form the
foundation of the library’s music collection. That same year, Glossy helped found the
Grillparzer Gesellschaft and also served as the editor of its yearbook until his death in
1937. Figure 1.2 shows Glossy in his later years.

23
Documents regarding Hägelin’s estate can be found in the Wiener Stadt- und
Landesarchiv: WStLA ZG, A2, Fasz. 2 (Verl.Abh.): 2455/1809. Many thanks are due to
Rita Steblin for teaching me how to track down such information in this complex archive.
24
Helga Herberg-Solbrig, “Carl Glossy” (Ph.D. diss., University of Vienna, 1971), 17.

20

A particularly interesting biographical fact about Glossy in terms of this
discussion is that he was appointed Zensurbeirath, or censorship advisor, in 1902. In
1928 the mayor of Vienna invited Glossy to participate in an advisory committee in order
to determine whether certain literature aimed at youth should be forbidden as morally
damaging or whether its artistic value should allow it to remain in circulation.
25

Figure 1.2: Karl Glossy, A-Wst, ZPH-602.

The irony of these honors can hardly have escaped him since, in addition to being a
scholar of the subject, he was an outspoken critic of censorship, at least of how it was
practiced in the nineteenth century. Official censorship in some form continued almost
uninterrupted in Austria until well after the Second World War.

25
Nachlass Karl Glossy, ZPH-602, Box 1, Folder 2.

21

Glossy’s great interest in the history of censorship in the theater is evident from
the number of his publications that deal with the subject. Due to his efforts, it is common
knowledge, for example, that theatrical censorship needed to be stricter than other types
of censorship and that lovers in a play or opera could not kiss on stage or exit it together.
As a scholar, he is known to have been somewhat generalizing in his approach, preferring
to summarize rather than to delve deeply into his subjects. Several scholars have also
pointed out his inaccuracies, and one dissertation, by Helga Herberg-Solbrig, devotes a
chapter to the positive and negative aspects of his research.
One of Glossy’s most important contributions to scholarship is his transcription of
Hägelin’s guidelines for censors in Habsburg-controlled Hungary, from 1795. The
document was published in the seventh yearbook of the Grillparzer Gesellschaft, which
appeared in 1897.
26
A Sonderabdruck edition of the document incorrectly lists the
original publication date as 1896. The wealth of information that Hägelin provides in the
document is clear from reading Glossy’s publication. The censor systematically proceeds
through the main categories of potentially offensive material, which are: offenses against
the state, against religion, and against good morals. Using these categories, Hägelin
further distinguishes between offensive subject matter in general and specific offenses
within the dialog, his main point being that offensive dialog is easier to clean up than
offensive thematic material.
Even a quick glance at Glossy’s publication can confirm that he omits some
material from Hägelin’s memo. There are many passages in which he includes ellipses,
sometimes in the middle of a sentence. The natural assumption, of course, is that these

26
Karl Glossy, “Zur Geschichte der Wiener Theaterzensur I,” Jahrbuch der Grillparzer
Gesellschaft 7 (1897): 238-340.

22

omissions were made because the original document was somehow damaged or
otherwise illegible. I was fortunate to come across a manuscript version of this document

Figure 1.3: First page of the copy of Hägelin’s document, HHStA, Gen. Int. 2,
129½.

23

in the Haus- Hof- und Staatsarchiv in Vienna.
27
Figure 1.3 shows the first page of the
document. It is important to stress that this is clearly not Hägelin’s original document:
neither the paper nor the ink appear to be of eighteenth-century origin. Glossy hired a
large number of copyists who wrote out the historical manuscripts that were of interest to
him, and there was even a special room in the Rathaus, the so-called Schreiberwiese,
where they worked copying the documents.
28
These copyists all used strict Kurrentschrift
rather than the hybridized, to us more legible, script that was common in the late
nineteenth and early twentieth centuries. Most probably, this document and the one I
found subsequently in the Austrian National Library
29
are products of Glossy’s team of
copyists. Upon comparing these manuscripts with Glossy’s work, it immediately became
evident that Glossy omitted single words, sentences, and entire paragraphs of Hägelin’s
text in his publication. And Glossy did this even though he believed that the faithful
transcription of documents was important; he even criticized a fellow scholar for not
adhering to an original document in a transcription. Regarding the work from 1839 of one
I. E. Schlager, Glossy, in the foreword to the twenty-fifth Grillparzer Gesellschaft
yearbook, writes: “These contributions, although they do not always correspond textually

27
One other study includes mention of three excerpts from this document. Friedrich
Wilhelm Schembor, “Meinungsbeeinflussung durch Zensur und Druckförderung in der
Napoleonischen Zeit. Eine Dokumentation auf Grund der Akten der Obersten Polizei-
und Zensurhofstelle,” Habsburg Digital, Elektronische Veröffentlichungsreihe der
Österreichischen Gesellschaft zur Erforschung des 18. Jahrhunderts. Bd 1, 2010
(accessed December 13. 2010),
http://www.oege18.org/publikation/habsburg_digital.html.
I worked independently of this publication, and I first presented my findings in New
York on April 10, 2010, at the fourth biennial meeting of the Society for Eighteenth-
Century Music and in Vienna on June 29, 2010, at the 36th Internationale Nestroy-
Gespräche.
28
Herberg-Solbrig, 56.
29
HSS Ser. n. 4012.

24

to the original, have been repeatedly used in historical works about theater of the past.”
30

The possible reasons for this sort of inconsistency on the part of a scholar as well as the
social and political circumstances that affected his work would provide enough material
for a separate study. Some of these issues will be considered below, but at this point it is
sufficient to note that we should be cautious in accepting at face value the work of even
the most prominent Austrian scholars from this period.

Censoring the Censor: Karl Glossy’s Selective Transcription (1897) of Karl
Hägelin’s Directive on Viennese Theatrical Censorship (1795)

The title “Censoring the Censor,” written while preparing a paper for a conference at
which I planned to present Glossy’s omissions in Hägelin’s document for the first time,
has apparently been used before. While doing further research on this material for the
dissertation I returned to some papers from Glossy’s estate, including speeches read at his
funeral and on various anniversaries of his death. Glossy’s contemporaries write
glowingly about his career, his contributions to scholarship, and his personality, but the
expression “Zensor der Zensoren” had a different meaning for them:
Es ist keine ironische Fügung des Schicksals, dass er, der mit den geistesengen Zensoren
der franzisceischen Zeit so scharf ins Gericht ging, selbst ein Jahrhundert später zu
gleicher Tätigkeit berufen war. Vielmehr darf man darin ein Symptom der grossen
geistigen Freiheit in der alten Monarchie erblicken, dass der Zensor der Zensoren nun
Gelegenheit fand zu zeigen, wie man es besser macht.
31

30
“Diese Beiträge sind, obwohl sie textlich nicht immer dem Originale genau
entsprechen, zu geschichtlichen Arbeiten über das Theater vergangener Zeiten wiederholt
benützt worden”; Karl Glossy, Foreword to Jahrbuch der Grillparzer Gesellschaft, vol
25 (Vienna: Carl Konegen, 1915).
31

“It is no irony of fate that he who condemned the narrow-minded censors of the
Franciscean times so adamantly was called to that same occupation a century later.
Rather, it can be regarded as a symptom of the broad intellectual freedom in the old

25

Whereas my use of the title “Censoring the Censor” is meant to show that Glossy was
censoring Hägelin by omitting portions of his text, Glossy’s contemporaries’ use of the
expression means that he was the greatest of all censors. That Glossy, avid scholar of the
history of Viennese censorship, was appointed a censor himself is perhaps ironic from
our modern standpoint; his friends and colleagues, however, lived during a time when
censorship was, to some extent, still considered necessary. They praised him as a
defender of the arts because he used his role as censor to fight against the bureaucracy
that would have banned many more works from Viennese stages. More than one of these
eulogies and memorial speeches attributes the phrase “Hände weg, es ist ein Kunstwerk!”
(“Hands off it’s a work of art!”) to Glossy.
It is unclear whether Glossy’s contemporaries realized the extent to which his
reproductions of documents from over a hundred years earlier were incomplete:
Ja selbst in seinen Aktenpublikationen, wo Denkmale und Dokumente vergangenen
Geistes oder Ungeistes wiedergegeben wurden, wie sie eben erhalten sind, besorgte die
Auswahl des Wesentliches [sic], die er sich fast immer zum Grundsatz gemacht hatte,
eine ähnliche Funktion. Weit wichtiger als die systematische Durchackerung eines
ganzen Gebietes, darin auf weite Strecken Oedland oft nur eine ganz schmale Zone
fetteren Bodens folgt, erwies sich eine intuinitive [sic] Spürkraft, die mit Treffsicherheit
und Präzision jene wichtigen und massgebenden Partien aufzufinden vermochte, von
deren Gehalt erst die Umgebung Wert empfängt, so wie der Wünschelrutengänger über
den Hang hinschreitend unmittelbar auf die im Erdreich verborgenen Schätze reagiert.
.
.
.

Was aber Glossy von so vielen anderen unterschied ist, dass er nie etwas Ueberflüssiges
und Unwesentliches geschrieben hat, dass ihn [sic] sein Geschmack, sein Sinn für Mass
und Gehalt bei jeder Darstellung, bei jeder Einleitung, bei jeder Anmerkung treu blieb,
dass er trotz emsiger Schreibtischarbeit stets dem Leben zugewandt war.
32

monarchy that the censor of the censors was given the opportunity to show how to do a
better job at this.” A-Wst, Karl Glossy Nachlass, ZPH-602, Box 3.
32
Ibid. “Yes, even in his publications of official documents in which memorials and
documents of bygone spirits and demons were reproduced exactly as preserved, the
choice of what was relevant, always a tenet of his [Glossy’s] approach, had a similar
function. Far more important than the systematic plugging away at an entire field in
which wide swaths of wasteland yielded only a very narrow zone of fruitful ground, an

26

To his fellow researchers, or perhaps particularly to his friends, it appears to have been a
relief that Glossy did not insist on trying to present documents in their entirety; they
relied on his ability to discern what was important and especially on his good taste
regarding the passages he chose for publication. Perhaps it is this good taste that he
exercised in omitting the passages of Hägelin’s document discussed below. In light of the
destruction of valuable censorship documents due to the 1927 fire, though, it would have
been and still is of importance that surviving documents or the copies of destroyed ones
be made available to researchers in their entirety.
The Hägelin manuscripts I found seemed unremarkable at first, since they are just
copies of the original and I knew that their contents had already been published. The first
several pages are identical to Glossy’s publication in the seventh yearbook of the
Grillparzer Gesellschaft, and it is clear to me now why the omissions were not found
earlier: why would anyone bother reading through pages of Kurrentschrift if there is no
apparent reason to do so? Glossy’s ellipses begin on the seventh page of his publication,
which corresponds to the eighth page of the manuscript, and from here on one can see
just by the number of ellipses used that a fair amount of Hägelin’s text was omitted. It
should be noted that there are some differences between the manuscript from the Austrian
National Library and the one from the Haus- Hof- und Staatsarchiv. Some of these are
copyists’ errors, but it is difficult to determine which document was written first. The

intuitive sense revealed itself, which was able to discover those important and relevant
parts from whose content the surrounding area could begin to receive value; just as the
diviner striding across the hillside immediately reacts to the treasures hidden in the
earth. . . . What distinguished Glossy from so many others is that he never wrote anything
extraneous or unimportant, and that his taste, his sense for proportion and content
remained true to him in every description, every introduction, and every comment. He
was, despite diligent deskwork, ever attuned to life.”

27

discussion below is based on the Haus- Hof- und Staatsarchiv document. What follows is
an overview of the most important omitted passages that will help to illustrate the
significance of Glossy’s distortions and the importance of eventually making Hägelin’s
full text available to scholars.
33

An immediately noticeable feature in the passages Glossy chose to omit is that he
is generally more conservative than his object of study from over a hundred years earlier.
For example, Glossy goes beyond Hägelin in trying to protect the reputations of emperors
and members of the nobility. Here is an actual sentence (Excerpt 1) by Hägelin with the
parts Glossy omitted shown in boldface:
Excerpt 1:
Auch sind solche Stücke nicht zu passieren,
worin die Regenten, besonders aber die
vaterländischen in nachtheiligen oder
herabwürdigenden Characteren geschildert
werden; wie z.B im Stücke Baumkircher
von dem Kalchberg, worin der Kaiser
Friedrich III. als wahrer Lapp erscheint
so in dem Stücke von nemlichen Autor,
betitelt: die Grafen von Cilly, worin die
Kaiserin Barbara Gemahlin Kaisers
Sigmund als ein geiles und rachsüchtiges
Also, such pieces in which regents,
especially those of the fatherland, are
represented in a disadvantageous or
demeaning manner are not to be passed [by
the censor]; as for example the piece
Baumkirchner from Kalchberg, in which
Emperor Frederick III appears as a real
idiot and similarly, in the piece by the
same author entitled die Grafen von Cilly,
in which empress Barbara, wife of emperor
Sigmund is portrayed as a lustful
35
and

33
My annotated transcription and translation of the complete document by Hägelin will
be published by the Don Juan Archiv in Vienna.

28

Weib geschildert wird, und wo der
Character durch das ganze Stück verwebt
ist.
34

vengeful woman and the character is
woven into the whole piece.
Clearly, it was important to Glossy to protect the reputation of a long-dead
emperor, and while it was acceptable for him that an empress be portrayed as vengeful,
any reference to sexual matters was taboo. There are places in the document where
Glossy leaves out just one word, such as “Hurrern” (“whoring”), or “bordellenmäßig”
(“bordello-like”). All of the longer portions of Hägelin’s text that Glossy omitted concern
sexuality in some way, and often women in particular.
Glossy is especially sensitive concerning the topic of pregnancy. Hägelin often
tries to instruct his fellow censors in Hungary by first describing something that is
generally offensive and then proceeding to give a specific example, usually out of the
theatrical or operatic repertory. In the following passage, as in several others, Glossy
publishes Hägelin’s general description but eliminates the example. “When the material
or moral of a piece is against religion, the constitution or good manners, i.e.,
fundamentally flawed, then it cannot be condoned for performance and must be
discarded.” After this, Glossy proceeds to the next general description, and omits
Hägelin’s example (Excerpt 2) of a fundamentally flawed piece in its entirety.

34
This passage appears on page 9v of the manuscript (hereafter MS) and the ellipses
showing its omission on page 75 of Glossy’s publication (hereafter Glossy). In general,
even though Glossy does not include the relevant passages, I give a page number for the
approximate place in Glossy’s publication where they would occur. Sigmund is probably
Sigismund of Luxemburg, who was Holy Roman Emperor from 1433 until 1437; Barbara
of Cilli was Sigismund’s second wife.

29

Excerpt 2:
z. B. in der Sonnenjunfrau von
Kotzebue waren zwei Hauptfehler, der
erste, daß Cora oder die
Sonnenjungfrau eine Art von Vestalien
von ihrem Liebhaber schwanger war;
und zweitens daß der König das
Gelübde der Keuschheit durch den
Unfall der Cora und andere Umstände
bewogen, ganz aufhob, mithin sich die
Moral daraus ergab, daß das Gelübde
verwerflich ist, welches in einem
katholischen Staate auf dem Theater
nicht gelehrt werden kann. Als man es
in Wien aufführen wollte, so musste der
Theater Dichter Jünger das Stück
beinahe neuschmelzen, die
Schwangerschaft der Cora und die
Aufhebung des gesetzlichen Gelübdes
wegschaffen, welches letztere dadurch
geschah, dass statt der Aufhebung des
Gesetzes in diesem besonderen Falle
For instance in Die Sonnenjungfrau by
Kotzebue, there were two main
mistakes: the first, that Cora, or the sun
maiden, a type of vestal virgin, was
pregnant by her lover; and secondly,
that the king, moved by Cora’s accident
and other circumstances, fully annulled
the vow of chastity. The consequent
moral that arises is that the vow is
objectionable; this cannot be taught in
the theaters of a Catholic state. / When
they wanted to perform it in Vienna,
theater poet Jünger practically had to
recast the piece by eliminating Cora’s
pregnancy and the annulment of the
statutory vow, in the case of the latter,
rather than doing away with the law, in
this special case, they dispensed with it.

30

daran nur dispensirt wurden.
36

Hägelin mentions Cora and her pregnancy in a different text, published in 1915 by
Glossy, but it does not refer to her having been made pregnant by her lover. Either this
milder version made the passage more acceptable to Glossy or he was less concerned
about omitting such subject matter almost twenty years later when he published this
second text.
37
Considerations of space could also have been a reason for the omissions
under discussion here, but Glossy becoming less averse to racy content in later years
seems like a more plausible explanation since his “surgical” removal of single words in
this text surely did not save him much space in the publication. The following omitted
example (Excerpt 3) also indicates that Glossy may have felt some squeamishness with
regard to the subject of pregnant women. Again, Glossy’s omissions are shown in
boldface.
Excerpt 3:
Charactere von schwangeren
geschwächten Frauenzimmern,
Ehebrecherinnen können eben so wenig auf
das Theater gebracht werden. Es existirt
ein einziges französisches Stück, wo eine
geschwächte Person vorkömmt, es heißt
„Eugenin“ und ist unter der höchst
seligen Kaiserin Königin ohne Anstoß
Characters of pregnant, debilitated
women,
39
adulteresses may also not be
brought onto the stage. There exists one
lone French piece named “Eugenin,
40
” in
which a debilitated person appears, that
was performed without offense during
the reign of the blessed Empress Queen
[Maria Theresia]; but her condition [that

36
MS, 4v-5r; Glossy, 68.
37

Karl
Glossy,
Zur
Geschichte
der
Theater
Wiens,
45-‐46.

31

aufgeführt worden; allein ihr Zustand ist
so schonend, und delikat darin
behandelt, daß er von hundertsten
Zuschauer nicht wahrgenommen wird.
38

of the pregnant woman] is handled so
protectively and delicately therein, that
it would not be noticed by one
hundredth of the audience.
The subject of sex was, as mentioned earlier, obviously of the greatest concern to
Glossy during his editing process and he assiduously excised entire sections of Hägelin’s
text that refer to it. Interestingly, the passages Glossy removed often represented an
attempt on Hägelin’s part to offer tamer alternatives both thematically and in terms of
vocabulary, to commonly understood sexual content. The following passage (Excerpt 4)
presents pregnancy, again described as a disease, within a list of sexual vices.
Excerpt 4:
Die Ausdrücke: Hörner tragen, aufsetzen
etc. sind nicht zu dulden, es heißt dafür:
den Mann betrügen, die Treue verletzen,
anstatt Schwager kann Hausfreund
Hausfreundschaft geduldet werden.
Wollust, Wollüstling, Weichling sind
Ausdrücke welche durch Üppigkeit
ersezt werden können, auch von einer
gewissen heimlichen Krankheit, von
The expressions: wearing horns, putting on
horns etc. are not to be tolerated, and are to
be replaced by betraying the man, injuring
faithfulness, instead of paramour,
42

Hausfreund,
43
or Hausfreundschaft can
be tolerated. Lust, voluptuary, milksop,
are expressions that can be replaced
with lusciousness; also, there may never
be talk of a certain, secret illness of

38
MS, 14r; Glossy, 83.
39
The word geschwächt is generally used in the manuscript when referring to pregnant
women. Frauenzimmer may have had the connotation of lower-class woman during
Hägelin’s time.
40
This probably refers to the play Eugénie by Beaumarchais.

32

entnervten geschwächten Menschen u
dergleichen kann nie die Rede sein,
außer die Sache wird durch gelindere
Ausdrücke bezeichnet. Begierlichkeit,
Geilheit, geile Begierden sind Wörter,
die im reinen Dialog nie statt haben,
man kann unedle sträfliche Wünsche
und Absichten nach Umständen setzen.
41

enervated, debilitated people and the
like, unless these are described with
milder expressions.
Desirability, lustfulness, lascivious
desires are words that may never occur
in pure dialogue, one can set ignoble
wishes and intentions according to the
circumstances.
After Hägelin’s time censorship became even stricter in Austria and some of the words,
such as “Hausfreund,” that the old censor offered as a milder alternative came to be
considered offensive themselves.
It is interesting to note Hägelin’s distaste for (and Glossy’s elimination of) the
common vocabulary for surgically altered male anatomy in the passage below (Excerpt
5). Castratos were no longer popular on the operatic stage during this period but even
mentioning them by name was considered unacceptable.
Excerpt 5:
Castrat kann durch Sopranist,
Verschnittener durch Haremswächter
gegeben werden. Die Wörter
Castrato can be replaced with soprano
and eunuch by harem guard. The words
prostitute and night nymph should also

41
MS 20r-20v; Glossy 91.
42
“Schwager” means “brother-in-law” in modern usage, but one of its older meanings is
intended here.
43
There are no idiomatic translations for Hausfreund and Hausfreundschaft; literally
translated, the terms mean “house friend” and “house friendship.” The original meaning
of “friend of the family” is generally interpreted as “intimate friend,” which obviously
has sexual connotations.

33

Freudenmädchen, Nachtnimpfen sollen
auch nicht erscheinen, sie können durch
Dirnen Creaturen ersezt werden. Anstatt
Kuppler und Kupplerin kann Zubringer
und Zubringerin oder auch Mäckler
oder Unterhändler nach Umständen
gesezt werden. Doch sind manchmal
gedachte Wörter nicht auffallend, wenn
sie nur Jemanden angedichtet wer[den,]
weil die gehässigen Charactern von
dieser Art wenn es auf Verführung
ankömmt, wie obengesagt worden, nie
erscheinen.
44

not appear and can be replaced by
wench [-like] creatures Instead of pimp,
provider, broker or mediator can be
used according to the circumstances.
Yet sometimes words that are thought
are not noticeable if they are just
imputed to someone, because the
malicious characters of this sort (when it
has to do with seduction, as mentioned
above), never actually appear.

One of the most famous and frequently quoted passages from Glossy’s
publication is the warning that lovers should not depart the stage together. The
implication of what the lovers’ departure will lead to is obvious even in Glossy’s edited
version of the passage, but it may nevertheless be useful to see the sentence in its
uncensored entirety (Excerpt 6).
Excerpt 6:
Die Censur hat auch darauf zu sehen, daß
nie zwei verliebte Personen miteinander
allein vom Theater abtreten um sich in ein
The censorship office must see to it that
two lovers are never allowed to leave the
theater alone in order to betake

44
MS 20r-20v; Glossy 91.

34

Kabinet oder Haus hineinzubegeben
wodurch der Zuschauer bewogen wird,
arges zu vermuthen.
45

themselves into a cabinet or house,
whereby the audience member would be
encouraged to suspect the worst.

That the separate room or private space for lovers is particularly problematic for Hägelin
and even more difficult for Glossy is further illuminated by the following example
(Excerpt 7); both men revisit this topic, Hägelin by writing about it and Glossy by
omitting it in other documents.
Excerpt 7:
allein die Künste der Verführung werden
dabei auch dargestellt, und es kommen
bordellmäßige / Auftritte vor, wo z. B.
sich der Verführer mit der Verführten
in die Seitenkammer begibt um das
Laster zu vollenden. Das Stück würde
also in der Ausführung höchst anstössig
sein.
46

but the art of seduction is also presented
here and bordello-like scenes occur
where, for example the seducer goes into
a side-chamber with the seduced one in
order to complete the vice. So the piece
would be highly offensive in
performance.
As has been seen in some of the passages above, Hägelin addresses the issue of
implied or actual prostitution with candor and, once again, uses specific examples from
the repertory to illustrate what he means. In the following example (Excerpt 8), the
placement of the female lead near rather than within a questionable enclosure (in this case
a house of ill-repute rather than a side-chamber) makes the difference for Hägelin. A

45
MS, 14r; Glossy, 83.
46

MS, 14r; Glossy, 83.

35

“dangerous” location such as this was still acceptable and provided dramatic tension
during Hägelin’s tenure but would soon be routinely removed by due to increasingly
strict censorship.
Excerpt 8:
z. B. in der unvermutheten Entdeckung,
oder nicht jeder Bräutigam ist so
glücklich; welches Stück jüngsthin
aufgeführt wurde, war ein anstößiger
Umstand enthalten nemlich dieser daß
Sofie ehemalige / Geliebte Altsteins sich
zur Frau Dörchen auf einen Rendezvous
oder Gesellschaft einladen ließ, und
wirklich dahin ging, wodurch Altstein
bewogen wurde Sofie zur Bestrafung
ihres treulosen Leichtsinnes den
Abschied zu geben. Das Haus der Frau
Dörchen war so eingerichtet, daß darin
Gesellschaften gegeben wurden wobei
junge Fräulein von guten Eltern
meistens mit fremden bemittelten
Passagirs
47
zusammenkamen, wo sich
for example Die unvermuthete
Entdeckung, oder nicht jeder Bräutigam
ist so glücklich, a recently performed
piece, included an offensive
circumstance namely, that Sofie, the
former beloved of Altstein, allowed
herself to be invited to Frau Dörchen’s
[house] to a rendezvous or social and
actually attended it; consequently,
Altstein was obliged to take his leave of
Sofie as punishment for her perfidious
foolishness. Frau Dörchen’s house was
set up so that socials could be given in it
whereby young ladies of good parentage
came together with unknown, wealthy
patrons, where each could according to
whim choose himself one of the ladies for

47
“Passagir” actually means “passenger,” but is understood as a “patron” or “client” in
this context. According to online version of the brothers Grimm’s dictionary, one
definition of “Passagier” implies customer with a negative connotation “ungefähr wie

36

jeder nach Belieben eines der Fräulein
gegen reichliche Honorirung aussuchen
konnte; über diese Schönheiten wurde
ein ordentliches Protokoll geführt.
Dörchen war also im Grunde eine
ansehnliche Küpplerin und ihr Haus ein
ansehnliches Bordell. Diese Anstößigkeit
wurde dadurch gehoben, dass Sofie sich
in den Garten der Frau begab; Frau
Dörchen u ihr Haus blieben weg, so dass
Sofie nur einen unvorsichtigen Schritt
that, in dem Garten eines nicht im guten
Rufe stehenden Hauses zu erscheinen.
48

a generous price; an orderly protocol
was followed regarding these beauties.
Dörchen was in other words basically a
respectable procuress and her house a
respectable bordello. This vulgarity was
avoided, in that Sofie went into the
woman’s garden. Frau Dörchen and her
house were removed so that Sofie just
took a careless step by appearing in the
garden of a house of ill-repute.
Being a professional pimp or accepting for money for similar work was
apparently considered more offensive than doing the same job without remuneration, as
the following example (Excerpt 9) illustrates:
Excerpt 9:
Wissentliche Kuppler und Kupplerinnen
von metier können nie ausführbare
Charactere sein d.i. zu sträflichen
Absichten zur Verführung der Tugend
Knowing pimps and madams by
profession can never be performable
characters, that is, people whose
business it is to ensnare virtue with

gast, kunde, bruder u. a. im schlimmen sinne.” The online dictionary is currently
accessible at http://woerterbuchnetz.de/DWB/?lemid=GA00001
48
MS, 5v; Glossy, 69.

37

gewerbtreibende Personen. Der
Kammerherr Marinelli in der Emilie

Galotti kuppelt zwar seinen Fürsten,
allein er that es nicht aus Gewerb,
sondern als ein niederträchtiger
Höfling.
49

punishable intentions. Chamberlain
Marinelli pimps his lord in Emilia
Galotti only he does not do it for business
but rather as a dastardly courtier.
The milder alternatives to racy words that Hägelin offers in Excerpt 10 are often
crossed out in the manuscripts of later censors. The word “Dirne,” for example, which
has sexual connotations today, used to simply mean female farmhand; perhaps censorship
in Vienna contributed to the change in meaning of this word. That the commonly used
words “probiren” and “Ding” could also be considered objectionable shows on the one
hand that the well-known suspicion of Viennese censors was already beginning in 1795
with Hägelin, but perhaps also on the other hand that censoring increasingly benign
works allowed authors of stage works as well as actors and audiences to create new codes
and meanings, which in turn required censoring. This underlines the importance of
studying actual censored manuscripts, because we can determine what was considered
offensive only by looking at what was crossed out.
50

Hägelin’s mention in Excerpt 10 of the need to avoid descriptions of heaving
breasts in plays is interesting because many illustrations of theater pieces in almanacs and
other periodicals, particularly from later and ostensibly stricter times such as the 1820s

49
MS, 13r; Glossy, 81.
50
Hüttner, 247.

38

and 1830s, include relatively graphic portrayals of women’s breasts.
51
Since some of
these periodicals are quite luxuriously crafted, they were perhaps rather expensive and
therefore only reached a higher class of society. At times Hägelin’s work is almost
artistic; his addition of the word “Herz” to soften the effect of expressions of sexual
conquest, for example can certainly be regarded as a deft manipulation of language. In
Excerpt 10 we learn of the offensive potential of words related to hunting and the sexual
power of seemingly innocuous parts of the body like a man’s calves or shoulders, all of
which is unknown or at least unmentioned in the literature on Viennese censorship.
Excerpt 10:

Doch ist hier eine allgemeine Bemerkung
zu machen, daß Wörter wodurch sinnliche
Laster bezeichnet werden in Trauerspielen
nie so auffallen, wie in komischen Stücken,
wo gescherzt
52
werden kann. So
apostrofirt
53
die Gräfin Orsina in der
Emilia Galotti von Leßing
54
den
Kammerjunker
55
Marinelli mit einem

But there is a general comment to be made
here, that words through which carnal vices
are described will never be as striking in
tragedies as in funny pieces, in which jokes
can be made. Thus Countess Orsina
apostrophizes chamberlain Marinelli in
Emilia Galotti by Lessing in an
exceedingly stern tone: “You pimp”

51
Bäuerle’s Theaterzeitung and also his Gallerie drolliger und interessanter Scenen der
Wiener Bühnen include good examples of such illustrations. Hägelin also explains that
the costumes of actresses and the decorations in the theaters that include figures must be
appropriately dressed even if current fashion dictates otherwise. See Glossy, Zur
Geschichte der Theater Wiens, 62.
52
Glossy writes “gescherzet.”
53
Glossy writes “apostrophirt.”
54
Glossy includes the words “von Lessing” but in the manuscript they have been inserted
in a more modern hand.

39

äusserst strengen Ton: “Du Kuppler”
56

ohne allen Anstoß, dieses ist auch der
Grund, warum die geistlichen Kanzelredner
beinahe alle derlei Laster mit ihrem wahren
Namen ohne Anstoß benennen können,
weil sie immer im ernsten und strafenden
Tone zu reden pflegen, welches im
komischen Conversationston nicht angeht.
Er hat mein Weib, meine Tochter
geschändet ist im Conversationstone
auffallend,
man
sagt
gelinder,
entehrt.

Anstatt der Ausdrücke: Maitresse,
Hurre etc, welche nie mit Anständigkeit
gesagt werden können, wird Dirne,
Buhldirne,
57
Creatur feile Kreatur,
Geliebte, Favoritin auch Dulcinea
amorosa
58
oder dergleichen gesetzt, je
nachdem es in einem gehässigen oder
aber ungehässigen Tone angebracht
without any offense, this is also the reason
for which theological orators can name
nearly all such vices by their true name
without offense, because they tend always
to speak in serious and punitive tones,
which does not occur in comic tones of
conversation.

He has disgraced my wife, my daughter,
is conspicuous in conversation, it would
be milder to say dishonored. Instead of
the expressions: mistress, whore etc.,
which can never be said with decorum,
wench, harlot, wight, available creature,
favorite, also dulcinea amorosa or
something similar may be set, all
according to whether it is brought in an
invidious or pleasant tone. The words
do, relish etc. are very susceptible to

55
Glossy writes “Kammerjuncker.”
56
Glossy has an exclamation point here and does not include quotation marks.
57
Hägelin uses this word elsewhere and Glossy prints it in his Zur Geschichte der
Theater Wiens, published much later than the censorship guidelines, in 1915. See p. 73.
58
This expression is in Latin script in the manuscript since it is in Italian.
59
This word is written only in the ÖNB copy of the manuscript
60
MS, 20v-21r; Glossy, 91.

40

werden soll. Die Wörter thun genießen
etc sind sehr zu Zweideutigkeiten
geeignet und leicht zu mißbrauchen, und
verdienen daher eine besondere
Aufmerksamkeit. Auch das Wort
probiren wenn von der Liebe die Rede
ist. Wir wollen es wagen, kann anstatt /
wir wollen es probiren gesagt werden,
auch das Wort Ding, ein junges Ding
wird oft gemißbraucht.
Wenn von weiblichen Reitzen die Rede
ist, müssen die geheimen Reitze und der
schwellende Busen ausgelassen werden,
von männlichen aber sind die Waden die
breiten Schultern etc in Acht zu nehmen.
Die unanständigen Ausdrücke Cujon
Canaille können nicht geduldet werden,
dafür kann Schurke Bestie gesezt
werden. Angewöhnte Sprüche die
manche Originale bei jeder Rede im
Munde haben, sind ebenfalls der
Aufmerksamkeit würdig, als hinter und
suggestiveness and easy to misuse and
therefore deserve particular attention.
Also the word to try when the topic is
love. We will risk it can be said instead
of we will try it.
Also, the word thing, a young thing is
often misused.

When the topic concerns feminine
charms, secret allures and the heaving
breast must be left out. Of the masculine
[allures], care should be taken with the
calves, the broad shoulders etc.
Die obscene expressions cujon, canaille,
61

cannot be tolerated; instead rogue beast
can be set. Habitual language that many
originals say in every speech are also
worthy of attention; for example behind
and in front, above and below, etc.

61
scoundrel, miscreant.

41

vorne, oben und unten etc.
Wörter der Artillerie, Belagerungskunst
der Schießart, der Kriegskunst sind
auch sehr dem Mißbrauche
unterworfen. Anstatt die Festung
belagern bestürmen kann der
Zweideutigkeit dadurch vorgebeugt
werden, wenn das Herz beigesezt wird;
da es dann heißt; das Herz belagern
bestürmen. Die Wörter der Jägerin
gehören auch dahin z. B. das zahme

Wildpret etc. auch die Wörter, Vogel,
Fuchs, diese können durch Fink u Luchs
ersezt werden.
Bei naiven Fragen junger (Frauen
59
)
Mädchen, wie man heirathet, wo die
Kinder herkommen, ist ebenfalls auf den
Mißbrauch der Wörter zu sehen.
60

Words related to artillery, siege
strategies, shooting style and the art of
war are also prone to misuse. Instead of
besieging, storming the fortress, the
double entendre can be precluded when
the heart is added because then it reads,
besieging or storming the heart. The
vocabulary of the huntress also belong to
this [category], for instance docile game
etc. Also the words bird, fox, these can
be replaced with finch and lynx.

For naïve questions posed by young
(women) girls, as to how one marries,
where children come from, one must
similarly look for the misuse of words.

Excerpt 11 includes relatively explicit examples of sexual circumstances that censors
needed to forbid. The combination in two instances of religion with sexual desire was
undoubtedly particularly offensive to Hägelin, although Glossy would perhaps have
included the passage in his publication if it had been “merely” blasphemous.

42

Excerpt 11:
Noch ist in Ansehung des oben
erwähnten Epikureismus nachzutragen,
dass oft die Bilder der Üppigkeit mit
malerischen Farben im Dialog
geschildert werden, wogegen sich das
moralische Gefühl empört. z. B. wenn es
heißt, er kann sich an ihrer Brust zum
Gotte schwelgen. Beide girren von
schwelgendem Vergnügen. Im
Manuskripte des Stückes Wölthing von
Stubenberg heißt es unter anderem; er
wolle in den Armen der Liebe Nektar
schlürfen, käme die Gottheit selbst, mir
diese himmlischen Genüße zu entreißen,
ich würde ihr entgegenbrüllen:
Ich will die Seligkeit der geniessenden
Liebe schmecken, wenn ich sie besitze, so
behandle beneide ich die Engel des
Himmels um ihr Glück nicht. Die
Weiber, wenn sie noch so sehr mit Mond
With regard to the abovementioned
Epicureanism it must be added that
pictures of rankness are often depicted
in the dialog with artistic colors, against
which moral feeling is scandalized. For
example, when it reads, “he can wallow
to God at her breast. Both moan from
basking in pleasure.” In the manuscript
of the piece Wölthing von Stubenberg it
reads among other things that “he wants
to slurp nectar in the arms of love and
should divinity itself come to wrest these
heavenly pleasures from me, I would
roar at it: I want to savor the bliss of
pleasurable love and when I possess it I
do not envy the angels of heaven their
happiness. Women, though they be so
much about dallying with the moon and
stars are nevertheless slaves to their
physical senses. Let my sisters first

62
MS, 25r; Glossy, 97.

43

und Sternen Liebäugeln, sind doch
Sklavinnen ihrer körperlichen Sinne.
Laß meine Schwester erst alle
Seligkeiten einer geniessenden Liebe
empfinden und du wirst sehen, dass ihre
Träume und Luftgestalten gar bald von
der Wirklichkeit verschwinden werden.
Derlei Schilderungen mit empörenden
Farben sind nicht zu dulden.
62

experience all the bliss of a pleasurable
[sensual] love and you will see that their
dreams and imaginings will quite
quickly vanish from reality.” Such
depictions with scandalous colors are not
to be tolerated.

Whereas Excerpt 11 shows the problematic combination of sex and religion, the
omitted passages presented in Excerpt 12 deal with sex and politics or philosophy.
Hägelin’s main worry here is that the institution of marriage could be undermined
through the presentation of love affairs onstage and that lower classes may learn about
new philosophies and alternative arrangements to marriage. While Glossy’s reason for
leaving out the passage was, once again, surely its sexual content, Hägelin’s concerns in
this case were of a more political nature. Protecting the public from certain types of
knowledge and thereby preventing any possibility of revolution was, after all, one of his
strongest mandates from the emperor.

44

Excerpt 12:
Von dem Worte Aufklärung auf dem
Theater
63
ist
64
eben so wenig Erwähnung
zu machen, als von der Freiheit und
Gleichheit, denn die neue Filosofie ist im
Stande wider dasjenige, was obige Worte
bedeuten, sogar zu deklamiren, weil ihr nur
daran liegt / die Ohren des Publikums mit
denselben
65
familiarisiren.
66
In der Sache
selbst ist es ihr aber nie Ernst. Wenn
Grundsätze der sogennanten Aufklärung im
Stücke vorgebracht werden, so werden sie
nur zum Scheine gemißbiliget,
67
indem die
handelnde Person dieselben ganz schwach
widerlegt, oder sich blos darüber
verwundert. Anstatt aller Beispiele kann
folgendes dienen: Es wird in einem der
Censur vorgekommenen Stücke eine
Person aufgeführt, welche, nachdem sie
The word “enlightenment” should be heard
as rarely in the theater as “freedom” and
“equality” because the new philosophy is
even capable of declaiming against the
meaning of the above words, because it
simply wants to familiarize the public with
them. In the thing itself it [the philosophy]
is never serious. When principles of the so-
called enlightenment are presented in the
piece, they only appear to be condemned in
that the agent [actor] very weakly rebuts
them or is simply astonished by them.
Instead of all kinds of examples, the
following may serve: In one of the pieces
that came before the censor’s bureau, a
person was presented who, after she had
lived with her seducer in a philosophical
romantic relationship, finally realized

63
“Glossy writes “Von dem Wort Aufklärung ist auf dem Theater.”
64
The word “ist” appears only in the ÖNB document.
65
Glossy writes “demselben.”
66
Glossy writes “zu familiarisiren.”
67
Glossy writes “gemißbilliget.”

45

mit einem Verführer verschiedene Jahre
in einer filosofischen Liebesverbindung
gelebt hat, endlich den Betrug erkennt
und sich unter einen anderen Namen, als
unter dem sie bekannt war, in die
Dienste einer Dame begibt. Sie wird von
einem, der sie ehehin kannte, entdeckt
und von diesem, dem sie ihr Verhältniß
mit ihrem ehemaligen Verführer
gestehet gefragt, warum sie mit
demselben kein ordentliches Ehebindniß
eingegangen habe. Sie führt ihre
Entschuldigung an und sagt, daß sie
durch folgende Gründe des Liebhabers
sei bethört worden: Er habe ihr nemlich
den Vorzug einer freien Verbindung vor
der ehelichen dadurch eingeräumt, daß
er vorschützte, der Abscheu vor dem
Zwange ein ewiges Opfer zu bleiben,
seine Schwüre, die wie er vorgab, diese
neue Verbindung unnöthig machten u
seine Schmeichelei daß dieser Bund
the betrayal and went to work for a lady
under a different name than the one by
which she was known.
She is discovered by someone who knew
her before. She is asked by him, after she
had explained her relationship with her
erstwhile seducer, why she never entered
a proper marriage contract with him.
She offered her excuses and said that she
was beguiled by her lover in the
following ways: He apparently
convinced her of the advantages of a free
relationship over a married one, that he
was protecting himself from the
abhorrence of the bondage of becoming
an eternal sacrifice; he purported that
his vows made this new bond
unnecessary and flattered [her] that this
bond was nothing more than a chain for
the plebeian; great souls are more
pleasantly fettered by sympathy,
intellectual power, and esteem, without a

68
MS, 25v-26r; Glossy, 97.

46

weiter nichts als eine Kette für den Pöbel
wäre, da große Seelen durch Sympathie,
Geisteskraft und Hochachtung ewig und
viel angenehmer gefesselt werden, ohne
den Schein einer Politik zu haben, eine
Demüthigung wie er sagte, die für
zärtliche Herzen die erniedrigendste ist.
Hierauf erwiederte ihr der Bekannte
ganz kalt, so gehts mit der Aufklärung.
Eine schöne Widerlegung!
68

political aspect, which, as he said, is the
most humiliating abasement for tender
hearts. To this, her friend coldly replied,
“that’s how it goes with the
enlightenment.” A fine rebuttal!

Music was undoubtedly difficult to censor, and Hägelin does not discuss it often
in his text. But the two important passages that deal with music in some form were both
left out by Glossy. The first has to do with church songs (Excerpt 13), and it is difficult to
do much more than guess at why Glossy might have chosen to remove just one sentence
from this passage: Perhaps such songs were still in use during Glossy’s time and he was
trying to preserve a certain innocence and purity in them. In both this and the following
excerpt one senses Hägelin’s frustration that he is overextended in his battle against a
proverbial hydra of potentially offensive media. According to Glossy’s Zur Geschichte
der Theater Wiens, Hägelin lists his responsibilities as including the censoring of all
theater-related placards, including those for fireworks shows and animal-baiting

47

spectacles.
69
How could he, in addition to these other duties, also oversee and censor the
possible double entendres in church songs?
Excerpt 13:
Es hat Rousseau angemerkt, daß je mehr
die Verfeinerung der Welt zunimmt, und
das Verderbniß der Sitten einreisst, desto
mehr die Worter [sic] der Sprache
zweideutig werden. Es ist auch ganz
natürlich, weil es in solchen Zeiten mehr
Menschen mit unmoralischen Erfahrungen
und einer verdorbenen Imagination gibt,
die Beziehungen auf ihre Erfahrungen
machen können, und dazu geneigt sind als
in Zeiten, wo Einfachheit
70
der Sitten
herschte. Es gibt schon alte
Kirchenlieder, die dermal
Zweideutigkeiten enthalten, für gar Alles
kann man selten Bürge sein.
71

Rousseau noted that as the refinement of
the world increases and the vitiation of
morals tears into it, the more the words of
the language become suggestive. It is also
quite natural, because there are more
people with immoral experiences and a
corrupted imagination, who tend toward
making connections to their experiences in
such times, than in times where simple
morals were the rule. There are even old
church songs that now contain such
equivoques; one can rarely be the
guardian of absolutely everything.

69
Glossy, Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens, 41. See also the unpublished document by
Hägelin in which he complains about this and other responsibilities that is discussed
below. Animal baiting of various kinds was very popular in Vienna. In 1794 Francis II(I)
tried to curtail the practice by forbidding the torture of oxen and swine. The leaseholder
of the animal circus (the Hetzpächter), who was probably losing money, tried to have
baiting reinstated, but after the arena burned down in 1796 and Francis banned it
altogether (HHStA Gen. Int. 1, Protokollszahl 60).
70
Glossy writes “Einfalt,” “innocence.”
71
MS, 21v; Glossy, 91.

48

The most important example of musical censorship that Glossy neglected to
include in his publication of Hägelin’s text concludes this overview of the document. It is
one of the only existing references to censoring actual music. As usual, Glossy has kept
the general idea in his text but removed Hägelin’s specific example.
Excerpt 14:
Es ist aber dem Censor Glück zu
wünschen, der im Stande ist, alle
Sprüchlein und Wörter oder Redensarten
zu kennen die zweideutig sind, und dazu
von verschiedenen Classen der Menschen
gemißbraucht werden.
Gesezt auch, man hätte den Dialog von
allem Schlüpfrigen durch Wegstreichen
gereinigt, so können noch
72
durch
extemporirte Zusätze Tonlegung u

abgesezte Reden oder Pausen
mannigfaltige Zweideutigkeiten gemacht
werden.
z.B. in der schönen Schusterin hieß es:
sie ist so vermessen, und lässt sich die
One can wish luck to the censor who is in
the position to know all the sayings and
words or manners of speaking that are
suggestive and also misused by various
classes of people.

Even were one to purify the dialog crossing
out everything obscene various double
entendres can still be made through
improvised additions, tone of voice and
asides or pauses.

For instance in Die schöne Schusterin
(The Fair Cobbler’s Wife) it reads: she is

72
Glossy writes “so können doch noch.”
73

MS,
19v;
Glossy,
91.

49

Schuhe anmessen. In der Musik wurden
die Worte, und läßt sich und läßt sich –
wiederholt und erst nach einer Pause
folgten die Worte: die Schuhe anmessen.
Das Repetiren und die Pause machten
also den Text zweideutig.
73

so brazen, and she lets her shoes be
measured. In the music the words “and
she lets” “and she lets” are repeated and
only after a pause, do the words “her
shoes to be measured” follow. The
repetition and the pause therefore make
the text suggestive.

Hägelin is referring to Die schöne Schusterin oder die pücefarbnen Schuhe, a singspiel by
Ignaz Umlauf that was first performed in Vienna in 1779. The relevant excerpt from the
score (Figure 1.4) does not include a repetition or a rest in the place that Hägelin is
complaining about. There is, however, a rather cheeky sixteenth-note figure that repeats
on both the words “vermessen” (brazen) and “anmessen” (measured), which is followed
by a rest. This musical moment may be the reason why Hägelin remembers a repetition
here, but there may also have been some improvisation by the performers that he found
objectionable. I should also point out that the figure does not occur anywhere else in the
aria and that this is by far the most musically interesting phrase of the piece.
Umlauf further emphasized the two “unsavory” places with a fortepiano marking, which
cannot have improved Hägelin’s opinion of the passage. It is important for us to have
found evidence that the censors were paying attention to the music as well as to the text.

50

Figure 1.4: Excerpt from Ignaz Umlauf’s Die schöne Schusterin, A-Wn, Mus.Hs.16481.

Certainly, most of them would not have had the necessary knowledge or time to read a
score, but they would have attended and were indeed required to attend rehearsals of
operas and at least one performance, usually the first.
It is, of course, difficult to ascertain the degree, if any, to which Umlauf intended
to emphasize the objectionable aspects of the passage. The complex game of cat and
mouse that was played between performers, librettists, and composers on the one hand
and censors on the other resulted in many veiled references and inside jokes. The
enjoyment that audiences derived from it no doubt encouraged even greater creativity and

51

many innocuous words would have acquired more salacious meanings.
74
Theater
directors were placed squarely in the middle of these conflicts, since they surely
understood and perhaps even appreciated the jokes but nevertheless needed to get new
pieces past the censors in a timely manner. To this end, they sometimes engaged in forms
of self-censorship, where they crossed out possibly offensive sections and thereby
relieved the censors of some of their work.
Responding perhaps to the popularity of Umlauf’s work, Beethoven wrote two
replacement arias (WoO 91) for Die schöne Schusterin around 1796 (Example 1.1), the
year of Umlauf’s death. The text of the entire opera is almost fetishistic in its emphasis
on ladies’ feet and shoes and their attractiveness. This is evident in Beethoven’s musical

Example 1.1: Beethoven, WoO 91, No. 2, “Soll ein Schuh nicht drücken,” mm. 29-37.

numbers as well. His second aria is a setting of an earlier scene in which a cobbler’s wife
sings about how difficult it can be to put on a shoe and how a woman’s foot needs to fit
perfectly into the shoe without pressure in any places. The figure on the first occurence of

74
Hüttner discusses this phenomenon in his “Vor und Selbstzensur bei Johann Nestroy,”
247-48, and in “Zensur und Selbstzensur” in Die Welt steht auf kein Fall mehr lang.
Johann Nestroy zum 200. Geburtstag (Vienna: Berger, 2001), 36.

52

“passen” is rhythmically identical to Umlauf’s setting. Even if the text was not meant to
have double meanings, the possibilities for creating them, as Hägelin notices, are many.
Perhaps the young Beethoven participated in this, for example, by writing a lengthy
melisma on the word “passen” (to fit) in the place where the cobbler’s wife sings about
the patience that is sometimes needed to properly hold the shoe and slip in the foot.

Unpublished Evaluations by Hägelin

In my research so far it has become clear that there are many documents related to
censorship and the theater that remain unevaluated mainly, because it is assumed that
they were destroyed in the 1927 fire. Some of these documents are originals, but many
are copies that were probably made by people working for Glossy. It would be beyond
the scope of this dissertation to try to address all of them, particularly since they are often
filed together with unrelated items, making them difficult to collect. A further problem is
that they are scattered throughout various libraries and archives in Vienna. I will limit
myself to just a few of the theater- and censorship-related documents in the
Wienbibliothek that Glossy had copied but did not include in the first volume of his Zur
Geschichte der Theater Wiens. These manuscripts by Glossy and his team of copyists are
collected in the “Abschriften nach Akten des Ministeriums des Innern.”
75
Each catalog
number represents a thick file box containing countless documents; I only looked at the
boxes that regarded Viennese theater censorship, but there are many more (possibly also
copied by Glossy’s team) that deal with the censoring of books. Norbert Bachleitner, a

75
H.I.N.-25807-25813 and H.I.N.-25831.

53

professor at the University of Vienna, is in charge of a project that is intended to organize
and present those materials.
Some of Hägelin’s individual evaluations of pieces, beginning with the year 1801,
are published in Glossy’s Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens, beginning with the year
1801, and Glossy implies that the earlier ones were lost, but since such reports on
separate paper were not required prior to 1801, it is possible that Hägelin just wrote his
opinion onto the manuscript of the play or opera.
76
The reports were probably filed
together and may well have constituted an enormous amount of material. Glossy’s first
volume covers a twenty-year period beginning in 1801.
In his foreword, Glossy explains
that he was not able to include all of Hägelin’s evaluations of plays and operas due to
space concerns. As a result, he chose either the evaluations of works that were
problematic for the censor or those that he deemed otherwise important for publication.
Often he presents them verbatim, but sometimes, as with Hägelin’s censorship directive,
he either leaves out sections or summarizes rather than presenting the documents in their
entirety. To some degree, summaries of this kind are understandable, since the language
of the censor is florid and repetitive. Unlike the censorship directive, which is one long
text, there are many of these documents and some of them are just one paragraph in
length. In the cases for which Hägelin simply approves pieces for performance and has
nothing further to say about them, Glossy probably made relatively random choices as to
which of the texts he included in the book. Approaching the rest of the omitted
documents, I tried to apply the same reasoning used for the censorship directive above,
namely, that for the most part Glossy chose to omit certain texts because of his own

76
Glossy, Zur Geschichte der Wiener Theatercensur, 38.

54

prudishness about sexually explicit passages. However, this method proved to be
incorrect, because Glossy allowed significantly more explicit language to be published in
this volume than for the one containing the censorship directive. Since he was the editor
of both volumes and, indeed, of the whole series of yearbooks published by the
Grillparzer Gesellschaft, what appeared in the volume would presumably have been up
to him. Perhaps he was subject to censorship himself, but to my knowledge, academic
works were generally censored in Austria during Glossy’s time. A possible reason for the
differences in types of excluded material between these two sets of material related to
Hägelin, the censorship directive on the one hand and the individual evaluations of plays
and operas on the other, could be their publication dates. Glossy published the censorship
directive in 1897, and the evaluations appeared in the Jahrbuch der Grillparzer
Gesellschaft in 1915. Both Viennese society and Glossy may have become more liberal
during these thirteen years and changed their views on what was acceptable to read in an
academic text. Nevertheless, prudishness was probably still a factor; for example, in the
evaluation of a play called Das Glückskind, in Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens,
Glossy’s famous ellipses make an appearance within a sentence that is about to expound
upon “the debauchery that hides behind the curtain.
.
.
.”
77
Unfortunately, das Glückskind
was not one of the plays for which I found a manuscript, so that particular sentence
cannot be completed. Glossy does mention that the play was forbidden by the police in
1802.
78

77
“Alles spricht äußerlich vom Heiraten und die Debauche haust hinter dem
Vorhange. . . .” Glossy, Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens, 35.
78
Ibid., 282. See also Otto Rommel, Die Alt-Wiener Volkskomödie (Vienna: A. Schroll,
1952), 451.

55

There are quite a number of Hägelin’s evaluations of operas and plays that Glossy
neglected to include in his Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens, but for our purposes here I
will discuss the evaluations of just two well-known pieces; other evaluations are
discussed in Chapter 4. All of Hägelin’s evaluations begin with the title of the piece and
the date as well as the theater for which each piece is intended. For the suburban theaters,
the names “Schikaneder” or “Marinelli” denote the directors of the Theater an der Wien
and the Theater in der Leopoldstadt, respectively—at the time often referred to by their
directors’ names, as in “das Marinellische Theater.” Hägelin
called
his
evaluations
his

Hausprotokoll
and
presumably
kept
a
running
list,
that
is
now
lost,
of
all
of
the

pieces
he
censored.
79

Under the laws instated by Francis, even works that had been previously censored
needed to be reapproved with each new production. The German version of
Beaumarchais’s play Le mariage de Figaro was revised and presented at the court theater
in 1802 under the title Der tolle Tag oder die Hochzeit des Figaro. In his evaluation,
Hägelin either misunderstands (perhaps in his haste?) or reinterprets the plot in the brief
summary that always precedes his verdicts. The Count’s infidelities are effectively
blamed on the Countess. The scene that features the Countess dressed in Susanna’s
clothes and being wooed by the Count is, as Hägelin explains, an opportunity for the
Countess to learn from her husband how he would like his wife to behave. Once she
understands this, she can presumably adjust her behavior to prevent his future
indiscretions.
80

79
Glossy, Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens, 33.
80
“Der Graf äussert dabey, wie er wünschte, daß seine Gemahlinn, die er jetzt für
Susanne hält, seyn sollte, welches sich diese zur Lehre nimmt.” H.I.N.-25820.

56

Perhaps Glossy intentionally omitted some evaluations that included the topic of
adultery. Hägelin introduces the plot of Figaro with the words “Der Graf der gegen seine
Gemahlinn etwas kalt geworden war, hatte ein Aug auf Susanne geworfen” (The Count,
who had become somewhat cold toward his wife, had cast his eye upon Susanna).
81

Similar words can be found in the evaluation for another important piece that Glossy left
out of his volume, the third part of Das Donauweibchen (called Das Donauweibchen:
dritter Teil, oder die Nixe der Donau), by Friedrich Hensler and Ferdinand Kauer: “Kurz
nach der Hochzeit
empfindet Albrecht Kälte
gegen
seine
Gattin” (Shortly after the
wedding, Albrecht feels coldness toward his wife).
82
Both situations involve adultery, but
other sexually explicit subjects are not necessarily excluded from Zur Geschichte der
Theater Wiens, so they cannot represent the only reason for which Glossy would neglect
to publish these documents. The text of the Figaro evaluation, for example, is far less
explicit than some of the others that are included in the book. At the risk of venturing too
far into the realm of speculation, I submit that Glossy excluded the more explicit texts
that were passed by Hägelin and included those that he banned. This essentially ascribes
to Glossy an agenda of promoting the strictness of Hägelin’s censorship. Assuming for
the moment that this is true, then Glossy, through the choices he made, was able to show
that Hägelin unequivocally banned sexually offensive content. Hägelin did ban all of the
sexually explicit evaluations that Glossy included in his volume, but all of the more
explicit evaluations that I found in manuscript form, had been passed by the censor but
excluded by Glossy.

81
A-Wst, H.I.N.-25831, 72-74.
82
A-Wst, H.I.N.-25807, 800-3. I present this evaluation in its entirety in Chapter 4.

57

One argument against this hypothesis is Glossy’s disclaimer that lack of space
was his reason for not including all of the evaluations. It was logical for him to include
many of the banned works, as they are certainly more interesting to read about than the
approved ones. But some of the approved works that he chose to include have short and
banal descriptions that simply pronounce the piece as passable for performance; these are
clearly of lesser interest to the reader than the excluded evaluations of Figaro or Das
Donauweibchen,
dritter
Teil.
83
Examples of sexually explicit evaluations or those
referring to adultery abound in the book: Der Teufel, ein Bärenhäuter, includes several
promiscuous characters; Kasperl, der Salamikrämer, includes prostitutes and adulterers;
Die Ehe aus Konvenienz presents a count and his infidelities; the story of Der weibliche
Hagestolz revolves around physically ascertaining the gender of characters, and it also
features a pregnancy.
84
Again, the only difference between the evaluations of these pieces
and those of ones such as Figaro and Das Donauweibchen, dritter Teil is that Hägelin
banned the former group, and that Glossy included it in his volume. Even if this
hypothesis were ultimately revealed to be incorrect, it is still worth noting that something
about Glossy’s editorial practices changed between 1897, the publication date of the
censorship directive, and 1915, the date of Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens. Certainly,

83

A few examples in Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens of plays that have less
interesting descriptions that are passed by Hägelin and printed by Glossy are: Kaspar der
Müllerthomerl, oder: Das Bergmännchen, p. 71; Bewußtsein, p. 23; Das Hauptquartier,
p. 40; and Die Hagenstolzen, p. 58. It should also be noted that these are far fewer
famous pieces than some of the excluded ones. On the other hand, Glossy’s failure to
include Hägelin’s evaluation of the popular singspiel Der wohltätige Derwisch was
perhaps truly due to lack of space. The piece was passed by Hägelin, and his evaluation
includes the interesting comment that the piece rests on its music and its decorations.
A-Wst, H.I.N.-25831, 280.
84
Glossy, Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens, pp. 73, 72, 75, 27.

58

some of the information he allowed in his later book would not have been acceptable to
him at the time during which he published the earlier volume.

An Unpublished Document by Hägelin

While Glossy may have become more liberal during the second decade of the twentieth
century, Hägelin who, by the early nineteenth century was working for the increasingly
repressive government of Francis II (I), resisted some of these trends in his society and
was gradually marginalized by the new system. But as we shall see, Glossy’s choices of
which documents to publish (and which ones to leave out) distort the extent to which
Hägelin lost influence over the administration of the office of censorship.
In one of the collections containing Glossy’s large estate lies a transcription of a
document that was also left out of his volume, perhaps because it is about censorship in
general rather than theater censorship.
85
Dated September 9, 1801, it is a letter from
Freiherr von Sumerau, the police vicepresident, asking emperor Francis to transfer
jurisdiction over censorship to the police. Sumerau explains that censorship should really
be a branch of law enforcement rather than an academic endeavor. This statement
condenses the significant differences in approach between eighteenth- and nineteenth-
century censorship in Vienna. Hägelin’s “Enlightenment” view holds that theater is
ultimately supposed to elevate and improve or educate the audience whereas the newer,

85
This collection is at the Theatermuseum in Vienna and consists of 21 boxes, some of
which are labeled “Karl Glossy” and others “Max Glossy.” This letter is in the sixth box
of the collection, which happens to be labeled “Max Glossy.” The materials are not in
any particular order, and I began helping the archivists at the museum to at least generally
sort them in the summer of 2011.

59

decidedly more suspicious, line of thinking was that theater was the best way to keep
people from congregating in the streets and engaging in potentially revolutionary
activities.
On September 12, 1801, presumably in response to Sumerau’s request, the
emperor placed all censorship operations under the jurisdiction of the police and its
infamous minister Count von Pergen.
86
The power to allow or prevent a piece from
appearing on the stage began shifting away from Hägelin to the officials at the
Polizeihofstelle in 1802. In Glossy’s volume, we read that on April 30, 1802, Hägelin was
asked to refrain from making the final decisions on whether pieces are passable or not
and to leave that to the police. On May 14 of that year, Hägelin was ordered to present a
separate report on the pieces he censored and, more significantly, he was told to wait for
a decision by the police as to whether they accepted his opinion or not.
87
In his
publication, Glossy chose to present these decrees so that they portrayed a certain
humiliation of the man as well as the increasing irrelevance of Hägelin’s position as
censor. But if we include in this chronology a newly found document that Glossy
neglected to publish, it becomes clear that the censor actually had more clout than was
previously believed.
The only document that can be viewed as a marginalization of Hägelin, that truly
overrides his authority, is the one from April 30, which is published by Glossy, and reads:

86
Glossy, Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens, 1.
87
Ibid., 11.

60

Decree from April 30, 1801.
Zensor Hägelin wird beauftragt, künftig
über die zur Zensur gelangenden
Theaterstücke sein Gutachten zu erstatten,
die Erledigung aber nicht wie bisher gleich
auf das Manuskript zu setzen, sondern dies
der vorgesetzten Behörde zu überlassen.
Censor Häglin is instructed henceforth to
provide his evaluation of theater pieces that
arrive at the censoring authority, but no
longer to place the verdict right on the
manuscript, but rather to leave this to the
superior, responsible agency.
88

Clearly, Hägelin is being relieved of some of his powers in the April 30 decree.
Now for a closer look at the May 14 decree, which, although it was transcribed and
published by Glossy, is presented here in its original form. The decree from May 14,
1802, like the individual evaluations of the pieces to be performed that I discussed above,
can be found in the collection “Abschriften nach Akten des Ministeriums des Innern die
Bücherzensur betreffend” in the Wienbibliothek. In his transcription of it in Zur
Geschichte der Theater Wiens Glossy modernized and corrected the German, just as he
did with other texts in the volume. Typically, he combined or shortened sentences for
clarity and he sometimes made word substitutions—replacing the word “Aufenthalt,” for
instance, with “Verzögerung.”
89
Most importantly, however, Glossy excluded the first

88
Ibid.
89
Ibid.; H.I.N.-25807, 790-91. The passage in question regards the suggestion by the
police that Hägelin deal with the pieces in the order in which he received them so that the
authors and theater people do not question how long it takes. The word “Aufenthalt,”
which means “stay,” is really a more polite way of saying “delay” or “Verzögerung,” but
by altering the text to the latter word, Glossy subtly
changes the tone of the text. The
original sentence reads: “Unter einem wird demselben auch aufgetragen, jedes Theater

61

part of the document, which alludes to problems that Hägelin had with the decree from
April 30 and to a petition he wrote complaining about it.
90
The exluded portion is shown
in boldface.
Decree from May 14, 1802.
dM: 119 fsc I

Decret
802

An den N.O. Regsrath und Censor
Herrn von Hägelin.
die Erledigung der zensu-
rirten Theaterstück [sic] betrff.

Von der jüngsthin erlassenen
Weisung, wie in Zukunft die zur
Censur gekommenen Theaterstücke
zu erledigen sehen, hat es abzu-
kommen; dagegen hat der N.Oe.
Reggsrath und Censor Herr v. Häge-
lin seinem Antrag gemäß von

Decree
[1]802

To the lower Austrian civil officer and
censor Herr von Hägelin
Regarding the handling of censored
theater pieces.

There shall be a deviation from the
recently enacted decree regarding how
theater pieces reaching the censorship
authority are to be handled. Instead, the
lower Austrian councilman and censor
Herr v. Hägelin, pursuant to his petition,
must now

Stück, sowie es zur Zensur übergeben wird, der Ordnung nach zu präsentiren, damit man
die Zudringlichkeit der Autoren und Theaterunternehmer und ihre Klagen über
Aufenthalt mit Grund zu begegnen im Stand ist.”
90
Glossy’s version begins with the words “Censor Hägelin is instructed to hand over his
evaluation of theater pieces to be censored by means of a special accompanying report.”
“Zensor Hägelin wird angewiesen, von nun an sein Gutachten über zu zensurierende
Theaterstücke mittels eines besonderen Begleitungsberichtes zu übergeben.” Glossy, Zur
Geschichte der Theater Wiens, 11.

62

nun sein Gutachten über zensurirte /
Theaterstücke mittels eines beso-
dern Begleitungs-Berichtes her
zu übergeben, und über letzten,
da sein schriftliches Gutachten
wie zeither bei dieser Hofstelle
zurückbleibt; die hierortige
Entscheidung zu gewärtigen,
worauf derselbe das Stück selbst
mit dem bestimmten Beysatz,
dass die Aufführung von Sei-
ten dieser Hofstelle ohne wei-
tere oder mit den räthlich be-
fundenen Abänderungen bewil-
liget, oder nicht bewilliget worden /
zu erledigen, und mit sei-
ner eigenhändigen Unterschrift
den Autoren und Theaterunter-
nehmern hinauszugeben hat.
Unter einem wird demselben
auch aufgetragen, jedes Theater-
Stück, sowie es zur Zensur über
geben wird, der Ordnung nach
deliver his evaluation of censored theater
pieces by way of a special accompanying
report; furthermore, since his written
evaluation will, as it always has, remain
at these court offices, in order to await
the [final] decision here. After which, he
[Hägelin] will process the piece with the
addendum that the performance is,
approved, allowed with the
recommended changes, or not allowed in
the view of the court offices. After
signing it in his own hand, he shall
distribute the piece to the authors and
theater contractors.

At the same time, he is also instructed to
present each theater piece, as soon as it
is given to the censorship offices in the
order in which it was received, so that one

63

zu präsentiren, damit man die
Zudringlichkeit der Autoren und
Theaterunternehmer und ihr
Klagen über Aufenthalt mit Grund
zu begegnen im Stand ist.
K. K. [?]Hofstelle

Wien d. 14. May 802

will be in the position to meet the
intrusiveness and complaints over delay
with reason.

K.K. Court offices

Vienna the 14th of May 1802

Both decrees, when read in Glossy’s book, seem to be burdening Hägelin with a lot of
rules by which he never had to abide during his long career. But if the April 30 document
is compared with the May 14 decree in its complete version, we can see that whereas he
was asked on April 30 to refrain from putting his own signature and final verdict (or
vidi
91
) of a piece on its last page, on May 14, he was actually ordered to do so. Thus the
May 14 decree actually contradicts the one from April 30 and allows Hägelin to keep his
earlier powers. Such an abrupt shift in instructions that occurs within a two-week period
can only be explained by a newly discovered third document, in which Hägelin defends
himself against the indignities contained in the decree from April 30. This copy of a
manuscript from 1802, which Glossy neglected to publish, has no indication as to the
month in which it was written, but judging from its content, I would place it between
April 30 and May 14. At first the text appeared to be just a fragment, but after finding
several such snippets that were incorrectly numbered (perhaps by the copyists but more

91
“Vidi,” Latin for “seen,” was sometimes used for the censor’s verdict. See Glossy, Zur
Geschichte der Theater Wiens, 71.

64

likely later on by the library) I was able to piece it together to arrive at the complete
document. Since the pages were separated, I could not be sure that Hägelin was the
author, because his name appeared only on the first and last pages, but the tone of the text
and the use of the by that time archaic designation der Unterzeichnete are typical of
Hägelin’s writing, so that greatly increases the likelihood that he was the author. Hägelin
begins the text as one of his standard evaluations of two pieces but then turns it into a
platform from which he takes issue with the new rules regarding both the approval
process for performance and publication as well as the system by which the final verdict
on pieces was passed on to theater directors and authors. I include the text here in its
entirety, dispensing with boldface since none of it has ever been published. The relevant
portions begin after a brief discussion of two pieces that Hägelin was evaluating.
Unpublished Hägelin document
119 fasc I
v. 1802
v. Hägelin

Dessen Vorschlag wegen ei-
genhändiger Erledigung
der Theaterstücke - dann die
zu censurirten Stücke: die
Wiedervergeltung u. die
Merope betreffend.
Excellenz gnädiger Herr!
Herr Sekretär Escherich hat das

v. Hägelin

regarding his suggestion about personally
processing theater pieces - then the pieces
to be censored: die Wiedervergeltung and
Merope

Your Excellence, dear Sir!
Herr Sekretär Escherich has once again

65

Stück: die Wiedervergeltung wel-
ches einem militärischen Anstan-
de unterlag, nach der von der ho-
hen Hofstelle erhaltenen Weisung /
abgeändert, und dem unter-
zeichneten wieder vorgelegt.
Da durch Abänderungen der
gedachte Anstand gehoben worden
ist; so hält der unterzeichnete
dafür, daß das Stück mit den
gemachten Abänderungen zur
Aufführung zuzulassen wäre.
Ein 2. Stück für das Hoftheater
ist: Merope. Das Sujet ist aus der
altgriechischen Geschichte bekannt,
und weder dem Stoffe, noch dem
Texte etwas auszusetzen; dieses
dürfte also ohne allen Vorbehalt zur/
Aufführung zugelassen werden.

Bey dieser Gelegenheit unter-

windet sich der Unterzeichnete

Sr [??] Excellenz einen gehorsamsten

Vorschlag zu machen.

presented the piece Die Wiedervergeltung,
which was subject to military objections
and which has been altered according to
the instructions obtained from the court
office to the undersigned.

Since the believed offense has been
alleviated through alterations, the
undersigned believes that the corrected
piece could be approved for performance.

A second piece for the court theater is
Merope. The subject is known from
ancient Greek history and there are no
objections either to the material or to the
text; it should therefore be approved for
performance without reservations. The
undersigned would like to take this
opportunity to make a most obedient
suggestion to his Excellence.

66

Ihm ist allererst durch ein ho-

hes Dekret bedeutet worden, künf-

tig den zu censurirenden Stücken keine

unterschriftliche Erledigung den zu
censurirenden Stücken am Ende
derselben beyzusetzen, sondern
diese der hohen Entschliessung
Entscheidung mit
Gutachten zu überlassen.
Mit tiefer Verehrung dieses hohen /
Befehles findet der unterzeich-
nete sich demnach verpflichtet,
die gehorsamste Bemerkung zu
machen, dass er bey der derma-
ligen Manipulation, nach wel-
cher die Theatralunternehmun-
gen die Stücke entweder durch ih-
re Leuthe, oder durch die Autoren
von der hohen Hofstelle abholen las-
sen, diese Stücke nicht mehr zu
sehen bekömmt, folglich auch nie
gewiß wissen kann, ob sein Ur-

It was first indicated to him through a high
decree that he [Hägelin] should in future
refrain from adding the final verdict at the
end of pieces to be censored and that they
should be yielded instead to the exalted
decision [of the police] with a report.
With deep veneration of this exalted
command, the undersigned finds himself
accordingly obligated to make the most
obedient comment that through the
maneuver by which theater entrepreneurs
allow pieces to be picked up from the
court office either by their people or by
the authors he [Hägelin] no longer gets to
see the pieces and can therefore also never
know for certain whether his judgement
received exalted approval or whether the
matter was subjected to further changes;
this has the consequence that he [Hägelin]
must, in this case, give approval for the
printing of the flyers [advertising the
pieces] that were presented to him, as it is

67

theil die hohe approbation erhalten,
oder aber die Sache eine Abänderung /
erlitten hat; dieses hat die folge,
daß er die diesfälligen Anschlag-
zetteln, welche ihm vorgelegt wer-
den müßen, daß imprimatur, so
wie er es allen Affichen über die
Spektakel, musicalischen Academien, die
in den sämtlichen Theatern ge-
geben, aber auch recitirt werden,
zu ertheilen, oder nach Umstän-
den zu versagen, oder auch zu co-
rigiren schuldig ist, nie mit Sicher-
heit ertheilen, und sein Amt zuver-
lässig verrichten kann, welches er
zu allen Stunden früh und oft spät/
Abends, zumal in dringenden
Fällen zu besorgen die Pflicht
hat; Er glaubt also unmaßgeblich, daß es
der Sache vorträg-
licher sein dürfte, wenn er die
Stücke, wie bisher, mittels Beyle-
gung seines Gutachtens der ho-
his duty to approve or under certain
circumstances forbid, or even to correct
all posters about spectacles and musical
academies that are given in all the theaters
but that are also recited. [Under these
circumstances] he can never give his
verdict with certainty and carry out his
duty reliably. He is obliged to do this at all
hours, early and often late in the evening
and sometimes in exigent situations. So he
believes, without authority, that it would
be more useful to the matter if he
presented pieces to the court office, as he
has up to now, by adding his evaluation
together with a special accompanying or
presentation addendum. Thereafter he
could have these picked up together with
the requisite exalted decision, in order to
inform the contractors of it by way of his
own handwritten memo. In this way, the
personnel of the court offices will be
spared the frequently bothersome
harassments and inquiries of the authors

68

hen Hofstelle, und noch eines
besondern begleitungs- oder über-
reichungs Anbringens vorzulegen
hätte; und sodann solche sammt
der erforderlichen hohen Entschei-
dung abholen lassen durfte, um
sie den unternehmern in folge /
der hohen Entscheidung mittels
beyrückung seiner unterschrift-
lichen Bescheidung zukommen zu
lassen; dadurch würde das personale
der hohen Hofstelle von den oft lä-
stigen Anfällen, und Anfragen der
Authoren, und anderer Theaterleu-
the verschont bleiben, und die Sa-
che ihren gewöhnlichen Gang ge-
winnen.

Das Gutachten über die
Stücke bleibe bey der hohen Hofstel-
le zurück, und der unterzeichne-
te würde auf sein überreichungs
anbringen den hohen Genehmi- /
and other theater people and the matter
will resume its usual path.

The evaluations of the pieces shall remain
at the exalted court office and the
undersigned would receive both the
information regarding the exalted decision
in his presentation memo and the piece in

69

gungs-bescheid nebst dem Stücke zu-
rück erhalten, um solches behörig
zu expediren. Der Unterzeichnete legt
über obige zwey Stücke ein solches über
reichungsanbringen bey: wird er
bey abholung dieser 2 Stücke zugleich
das retrodecretirte anbringen zu-
rückerhalten, so wird er dieses als
die hohe begnehmigung des Vor-
schlages ansehen, und künftig
auf diese art fortfahren.
Hägelin
order to appropriately expedite such
things. The undersigned is including such
a presentation memo with the above two
pieces. If [When] he once again receives
the two pieces as well as the final verdict
written into the memo, he will see this as
the exalted approval of this method and
continue in the same manner in the future.

Hägelin
Following recent protocol, Hägelin had been writing his initial evaluations and
submitting these reports to the police together with the actual scripts and librettos. After
that he received them all again and subsequently made the necessary alterations and
returned them to the theater personnel. As Hägelin complains in the document, the new
rules (presumably initiated by the decree of April 30) allowed various people from the
theaters to pick up the works from the court offices themselves while Hägelin remained
in the dark about the final verdict of the police. This affected his ability to give approval
for printing of various kinds; he needed to see the pieces again before they were released
to the theaters, and so he suggests that he write an additional document summarizing his
verdict and that of the police. The old censor defends his turf and ultimately gets his way,
as is shown in the May 14 decree, which indicates, as per Hägelin’s suggestion, that he

70

should add his signature on the last page of the piece and that he should write an
accompanying report after the police have rendered the final verdict. All of the
suggestions Hägelin makes are honored in the May 14 decree and officials clearly wrote
it as a response to his complaints. This particular battle was won by Hägelin and he
continued censoring and signing the verdicts at the ends of plays and operas until the end
of 1804. But there was no way Hägelin would win the war, as too many reactionary
forces were gathered against him. Further evidence of Hägelin’s diminishing significance
in the new century can be found in Glossy’s Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens. For
example, his judgment is questioned on August 18, 1803 because he did not send the
piece Fetzen und Lumpen by Schikaneder for renewed appraisal, as he was supposed to
(and generally did) with all older pieces.
92

A long text written by the censorship inspection commissioner Johann Michael
Armbruster is particularly damning of Hägelin because it points out problems with the
censorship process, with the old censor inevitably representing the weakest link. Among
other issues, Armbruster mentions that the delay (Verzögerung) in the censoring of pieces
will result in the public (which was desperately in need of entertainment due to the
unfavorable political climate) growing restive. A further, and more interesting, criticism
of Hägelin is that his evaluations of pieces are couched in the language of the first half of
the eighteenth century and that the contrast between the passages he corrects and those he
leaves intact is entirely too noticeable. Some degree of taste was apparently still needed
for censoring, and Hägelin was no longer modern enough. Armbruster further holds that
it is beneath Hägelin’s dignity to have to replace texts that are so offensive to begin with

92
Glossy, Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens, 50. The piece by Schikaneder is actually
called Lumpen und Fetzen oder die Kaprize.

71

and that his ability to do so, in any case, rarely results in anything much less offensive.
The harshest criticism Armbruster makes of Hägelin is that his corrections to pieces are
such that they often compromise the position of the institution of censorship.
93

By the end of the eighteenth century, Hägelin was a representative of a bygone
era; his philosophies and his evaluations of pieces no longer had a place in Vienna’s
increasingly conservative environment. Armbruster’s own volume from 1797, entitled
Sünden-Register der Franzosen, während ihres Aufenthalts in Schwaben und Vorder-
Oestreich, with a dedication describing the French as “a haughty, inhuman, unfaithful,
predatory enemy,” for example, stands in stark contrast to Hägelin’s views of the French
as supremely refined, especially in their theaters.
94
Whether Armbruster’s criticism of the
old censor carried weight with the emperor or whether there were other voices raised
against Hägelin is unclear, but one way or another he had outlived his usefulness.
In yet another instance of his obfuscating of historical facts, Glossy claims that
Hägelin was discharged from office on December 7, 1804. However, the manuscript from
which he took this information states instead that this was the date on which Hägelin was
relieved of most of his obligations and relegated to dealing only with printed material.
95

There is no indication of a forced retirement or a sacking, and he may never have been
completely relieved of his duties. According to Derek Beales, writing about Josephinian
times, “No official who failed in his duty had anything worse to fear than retirement on

93
Ibid., 68-71. Armbruster’s text is from February 3, 1804.
94
Hägelin considered French the superior language to German. See Johann Michael
Armbruster, Sünden-Register der Franzosen während ihres Aufenthalts in Schwaben und
Vorder-Oestreich ([Vienna?]: Armbruster, 1797); Glossy, “Zur Geschichte der Wiener
Theaterzensur I,” 63.
95
This document is also located in the Nachlass of Karl and Max Glossy in the
Theatermuseum in Vienna, box 1.

72

full pay, suitably honoured.”
96
Hägelin certainly did not fail in his duty, even in the eyes
of a new generation of censors, so he was eased out slowly rather than fired or relieved of
duty.

Conclusion

Although Hägelin became more conservative as his career progressed and as his
circumstances required, he was still a representative of the Josephinian era who saw the
theater as a school for morals and taste, an opportunity for elevating audiences rather than
a way of keeping them entertained and out of trouble. But his verdicts and evaluations no
longer had a place in an increasingly strict society.
97
Hägelin was more educated and
discerning, possessing more refined taste and a better understanding of the theater than
later censors, who were largely policemen and unconcerned with aesthetic questions.
Works censored after Hägelin’s time were subjected to far more severe cuts, and words
and phrases that Hägelin had deemed acceptable substitutes for offensive ones came to be
considered offensive themselves. As we have seen, Hägelin had some influence over the
institution of censorship even late in his career, and he made sure that his superiors heard
his voice. Hägelin too, like Glossy posthumously, could justifiably be called a “censor’s
censor.”
I have tried to emphasize two main points in this chapter. First, these newly found
documents by Hägelin are relevant to our understanding of theatrical and musical culture

96
Derek Beales, Joseph II: I. In the Shadow of Maria Theresa, 1741-1780 (Cambridge
and New York: Cambridge University Press, 1987), 210.
97
Glossy, Zur Geschichte der Wiener Theatercensur, 39. See also Plachta, 172-73.

73

in Habsburg Austria. The sorts of slang used on stage, the kinds of situations that were
deemed objectionable, the taboo of pregnancy, and the offensive potential of
improvisation and musical phrasing are all issues that would not have been addressed by
Hägelin had they not played a significant role in Viennese performances of his time. The
complex process of evaluation that each piece underwent and the attempts by both
censors and theater personnel to speed it up affected its content and eventual presentation
in significant ways. My second point is that commonly cited works such as Glossy’s and
many others from nineteenth- and early twentieth-century sources are often in need of re-
evaluation. I believe that Glossy’s omissions were largely motivated by prudishness, but I
also wonder whether his distaste for censorship of the Biedermeier period and his desire
to cast it in a negative light guided the scholarly choices he made. The social pressures
and customs that perhaps burdened Glossy and caused him either to leave out relevant
parts of Hägelin’s text or to exclude them entirely are themselves worthy of study, and
the fact that an eighteenth-century censor was able to write more freely about
controversial subjects than a scholar a hundred years later illuminates the stark contrasts
between these two eras.

74

Chapter 2
Two Case Studies in Censorship

Introduction

Scholarship on theater censorship in Vienna has generally focused on the works of the
two most famous playwrights, Ferdinand Raimund and Johann Nestroy, both of whom
(but especially Nestroy) had several unpleasant encounters with censors.
98

In this chapter, I focus on two works that provide us with some understanding of how the
institution of censorship functioned in the early nineteenth century and at the end of its
third decade. Both pieces were popular in Vienna, but I chose them for different reasons.
Der 30-jährige ABC-Schütz serves as a good example of a typical Viennese work that is
unknown to audiences today but that enjoyed many performances and several different
productions over a period of at least fifty years. The censored libretto that I found is from
1829, thirty years after its premiere in 1799. The censor crossed out a great deal of
material that would have been deemed passable in 1799, and anything potentially
subversive remains only in the music because censors did not generally deal with musical
scores. Music’s considerable potential to offend is rarely considered by scholars, but it
could not have been lost on nineteenth-century audiences, particularly because the texts
of musical numbers (especially those with which they may already have been familiar)
were censored with increasing strictness. Although it retains the same basic plot as
Mozart and Da Ponte’s Don Giovanni, the singspiel Don Juan was severely cut by the

98
Walter Obermaier, “Raimund und die Zensur,” 40-54.

75

censor Hägelin so that it could be performed in 1803. The cuts affected the musical
numbers in that some of them had to be left out of the performance, but the altered texts
also needed to fit with Mozart’s music. Examining the censorship of this German
adaptation of the famous opera provides a glimpse of the piece to which Viennese
spectators, particularly those who did not understand Italian, were exposed. Perhaps
precisely because the piece was so famous, Hägelin appears to have spent a great deal of
time censoring it. Even though the story of Don Juan would have been familiar to most
audience members, Hägelin’s extensive editing probably represented the only way the
piece could reach the Viennese German-language stage in 1803. Prior to discussing these
two pieces, it will be useful to consider the ways in which censorship was handled in the
two periods from which they originate.

Censorship in 1795 vs. 1829

As the only theater censor until 1804, Hägelin indisputably left his mark on Viennese
theatrical culture and influenced the censors who came after him. The names of these
censors and the years of their service can be seen in the Staatsschematismen—
comprehensive lists, published each year, of all Habsburg-employed personnel, from the
princes who served as counselors to the emperor to the washerwomen responsible for the
laundry at Schönbrunn. If one compares the entry for censors on the list from 1829 with
an earlier one from Hägelin’s time, the difference is quite striking. The list from 1795, the
year that Hägelin wrote his censorship directive, shows that the censorship offices are
located in the Fleischmarkt, that in addition to the head of the office, there were eight

76

censors (including Hägelin), and that there was one person each for the jobs of Revisor,
Koncipist, Kanzelist, and Amtsdiener. This information comprises about one page in the
list. The list from 1829 shows the inclusion of the institution of censorship under the
auspices of the police, whose headquarters were in the Herrengasse. While this list takes
up two pages (excluding the cashier’s office of the police), it is clear that it should
actually be much longer: six censors are listed, but six additional positions for censors are
as yet unfilled. Furthermore, the branches of censorship that process the items to be
censored by receiving them and giving them back to the appropriate people are listed not
under the police but under the Bücher-Revisionsamt. It is clear from the large number of
employees listed that the office of censorship had become more established and far-
reaching by 1829, reflecting an increasingly restrictive government.
The way that censors approached their work also differed greatly between
Hägelin’s time and the 1820s. Even accounting for the fact that there were many more
censors in the later period, their approach was far more heavy-handed than that of their
older colleague, perhaps because they were not as well-educated and versed in literature
as he was and because the artistic integrity of a work was not of concern to them. Hägelin
always tried to incorporate his corrections so that they fit the flow of the piece. As we
will see in Don Juan, he usually offered alternative words, if not always alternative
passages, in order to keep the work coherent. By contrast, later censors cared less about
the artistic aspects of works and simply scanned them, looking for offensive words or
themes. Once an objectionable passage was found it was simply excised, with no regard
for what effect that might have on the piece. For example, in Der 30-jährige ABC-Schütz,

77

the censor removed one relatively important character, no doubt causing theater directors
to scramble in order to retain some coherence in the piece.

Challenging Authority with Hidden Humor,
Music from Wenzel Müller’s Der 30-jährige ABC-Schütz

In 1829, the popular Taddädl, der 30-jährige ABC-Schütz by Karl Friedrich Hensler and
Wenzel Müller was brought to the stage in a new production at the Theater an der Wien.
As at the Leopoldstädter theater premiere in 1799, the recurring comic figure of Taddädl
(a variant of Kasperl) was played by its creator, Anton Hasenhut. Both performances,
although separated by thirty years, were organized as benefits for Hasenhut, but the
earlier audience’s response to the piece was very enthusiastic and aided its wide-spread
dissemination throughout German-speaking lands, while the 1829 version was probably
regarded as a flop, since it was never repeated.
99
Stricter censorship that removed some of
the appeal of the piece could have been one reason for which the 1829 performance did
not appeal to the audience. According to Karl Glossy, the suburban theaters had enjoyed
a special mildness on the part of the authorities until the appointment in 1803 of several
theater commissioners, who attended all performances in order to make sure that the
rules, particularly those regarding improvising and bawdy jokes, were followed.
100
A

99
Hasenhut’s career was at its height in 1803 when he left the Leopoldstädtertheater for
higher pay at the Theater an der Wien. According to Otto Rommel, his extreme
specialization in the Taddädl role meant that, especially at the Theater an der Wien, not
enough pieces were written for him. His benefit performances, including Der 30-jährige
ABC-Schütz, met with great critical acclaim, but after his dismissal in 1819, he never
found steady work again. Rommel, Die Alt-Wiener Volkskomödie, 580-81.
100
“einer besonderen Milde der Behörden erfreut hatten”; Karl Glossy, Zur Geschichte
der Theater Wiens, XX.

78

further directive, instated in 1813, required that pieces be pre-censored by the directors or
other employees of the theater. Mostly likely due to these stricter and more strictly
enforced rules, many more parts of the text were crossed out in 1829, and as a result,
some of the most entertaining portions of the piece were excised. But could the censors
have detected humor or possibly subversive elements in the music?
Following a general discussion about how a newly discovered libretto of Der 30-
jährige ABC-Schütz was censored in 1829, I use a quartet from the piece to serve as an
example of how the music—the part of a work that was generally ignored by the
censors—could convey the same subversive or offensive messages that would certainly
have been excised in a libretto.
101
The censor and perhaps the audience would have been
all the more on the lookout for subversive elements in works that included the Taddädl
character because he, like his predecessors Kasperl (for written pieces), Bernardon, and
Hanswurst (for improvised pieces),
102
was prone to criticizing authority. Bernadon, a role
created by the immensely popular Joseph Felix Kurz, is actually the direct predecessor of
Taddädl, and the original play was called Bernardon der dreißigjährige ABC-Schütz.
According to Hägelin, who evaluated it in1803, the piece is in “true, old Viennese taste,
where one can still laugh good-naturedly and not feel the need to engage in political
debate.”
103
For the 1829 performance of this piece, with all the objectionable, and thus
most of the funny parts of the text removed by a later censor, it may have been that the

101
The libretto itself is not in the catalog but can be found in the Teilnachlass of Otto
Rommel in the Wienbibliothek.
102

For
a
brief
overview
of
the
improvising
characters
Bernardorn
and
Hanswurst,

see
James Van Horn Melton, “School, Stage, Salon: Musical Cultures in Haydn’s
Vienna,” The Journal of Modern History 76, no. 2 (June 2004): 251-79.
103
“Das Stück ist im wahren alten Wiener Geschmack, wo man noch gutherzig lachen
und nicht politisch räsonieren wollte.” Glossy, Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens, 56.

79

music was the only humorous and socio-critical component, the only representative of
“true, old Viennese taste” that remained.
As with many other documents of this sort, the libretto presents many complex
layers of markings of various kinds that took place both before and probably after 1829.
Of course it is always difficult to be completely certain about which of these markings
come from the censor. Experience with censored documents and careful comparisons of
ink and handwriting have allowed me to come to certain conclusions about this issue. The
censor’s handwriting and his signature in what appears today as dark brown ink are (as is
commonly the case) clearly legible on the last page of the libretto. Comments and
deletions by various people from the theater are generally written in pencil or in
Rötelstift, the reddish-brown, iron oxide-derived chalk called sanguine in English. When
making deletions, theater people were in general less concerned about completely
covering the undesired text than was the censor, whose ink, generously spread over
particularly offensive words, usually renders the text illegible. In Der 30-jährige ABC
Schütz, the censor made a number of alternative suggestions to problematic words or
phrases. This procedure was characteristic of Hägelin, especially in his later career, but
by 1829, censors used predictable, less creative replacements, which, as I explained in
Chapter 1, may easily have come to represent the original offensive word to the audience.
At the beginning of the piece, housemaster Kibbutz
104
complains that instead of
studying, Taddädl only wants to go and flirt with girls.
105
The censor replaces the funny

104
“Kibbutz” might be a variant of the Yiddish “kibbitz,” meaning “to look on and offer
unwelcome advice.” This fits very well, since the character Kibbutz is Taddädl’s teacher
and because Yiddish words were in the Viennese vocabulary. I thank David Buch for
pointing this out to me.

80

line with “Taddädl only wants to go and see girls.” Such small changes as replacing a
more colorful (and potentially offensive) word with a blander one, when applied
throughout the libretto, naturally leave us with quite a different piece from what Hensler
initially wrote. The thick ink marks of the censor can be seen mainly in passages
containing sexual innuendo. The thinner brown marks could have come from a theater
director, like Carl Carl, who was engaging in a sort of self- or pre-censorship. Carl was
responsible for the 1829 performance at the Theater an der Wien, and removing the most
obviously offensive places ahead of time would have been one way for him to help the
piece pass through the censorship process more quickly.
From Hägelin’s 1795 censorship guidelines, we know that censors were mostly
looking for offenses against the church, the state, or general morals. All of the markings
in thick or thin brown ink in this censored libretto fit easily into one or more of these
categories, and none of them can be considered as artistic decisions, further suggesting
that they are either a censor’s marks or those of a “pre-censor.” Other than such pre-
censorship, the members of the theater would not have had any other reasons to excise
funny or controversial passages that were surely among the most popular with the
audience.
The most humorous parts of the scene, in which the character Schnipp, dressed as
a maid, tries to seduce Kaspar, were deleted by the censor, presumably because they were
morally offensive. The deleted lines have the false maid recounting a previous romantic
experience with an older man who had fallen in love with her. In general, the censor

105
The German word “Löffeln” today literally means “spooning” as in “spooning soup,”
but it used to also mean flirting. In the libretto, there are some inserted, handwritten
pages, which repeat the opening scenes of the piece and there the word “löffeln” is
replaced by “spienzeln,” which used to mean “ogling.”

81

seems to take offense at allusions to relationships between younger women and older
men, one of the oldest comic themes of the theater.
What might have been considered one of the most entertaining scenes of the
piece, the dance lesson, was completely excised by the censor, probably because the
dance master, Monsieur Chassée, was a little too helpful in showing the female lead,
Rosel, how best to position her leg. This physical flirtation was evidently more offensive
to the censor than the verbal advances made by other characters—perhaps it would have
provided too many possibilities for improvised bawdiness by the performers. As this was
the only scene featuring Monsieur Chassée, his name was crossed out later from the
character list at the beginning of the libretto. Crossed out in pencil and sanguine, this
marking would have been made for obvious, practical reasons by members of the theater
company and does not count as self-censorship. The piece was approved for performance
on the 14th of March, 1829, and the playbill for the performance on May 15th does not
include the character of Monsieur Chassée. Another possible reason for the removal of
this character could have been his use of a sort of pseudo-French language. Particularly
after the 1809 occupation of Vienna by Napoleon, French words were removed from
German pieces as a matter of course. In the case of Der 30-jährige ABC-Schütz, the
censor crossed out the words “Avanturier” and “Amant,” both of which could also have
been considered offensive aside from or in addition to being in French. Allusions to
foreign countries or people were also often crossed out in librettos and plays from this
period, presumably to avoid causing offense. In Der 30-jährige ABC-Schütz, words like
“Türken” are crossed out, and in other pieces, for instance, in a censored script of

82

Friederike Ellmenreich’s Der Vampyr, all reference to Hungary is deleted and the main
character, Baron Velhazy, is changed by the censor into Baron Velhagen.
The twelfth scene in the second act of Der 30-jährige ABC-Schütz includes a
number of crossed-out sections. Here Taddädl shows disrespect toward both his father
and his teacher, Kibbutz. Regarding Kibbutz, Taddädl states that he has already thrown
him out of the window and that he lies in the alley below. Throwing people out of
windows is an old slapstick technique that probably dates back to Hanswurst, if not
earlier. Taddädl then accuses his father of being a tyrant and further insults him, calling
him a tiger (Tigertier) and a cannibal. Verbal and sometimes physical attacks on authority
figures, particularly by characters like Taddädl, who come out of the Bernadon and
ultimately the Hanswurst tradition, are common in Viennese theater and would have been
perceived as especially amusing by the audience. For the censor to cross these sections
out was simply a continuation of a long tradition of banning such comedy from the stage,
but in the time of Emperor Francis II (I) such an attack could also have been viewed as an
affront to the authority of the state. Either way, it is not surprising that such sections are
crossed out. In a pun on sexual intercourse, Taddädl says “If Papa doesn’t give me my
Katherl, I will die as a young gentleman, and then we can see where Papa will get young
Eselbanks” (the last name of Taddädl and his father Kaspar).
106
This line is crossed out
twice, first with the lighter ink, implying self-censorship, and then with the darker,
thicker ink of the official censor. Sexual themes or those that offend morality were
perhaps in this case more worrisome than attacks on authority. An earlier scene (Act I, sc.

106
“Wenn mir der Papa mein Katherl nicht giebt, so sterb ich als junger Herr, und dann
kann der Papa sehen, wo der Papa junge Eselbankeln herkriegt”; p.56 in the censored
libretto.

83

17) remains untouched by the censor. Here, Taddädl has chased off the teacher Kibbutz.
However, Kibbutz had just made inappropriate advances toward Katherl, so either the
censor overlooked this part of the text, or, as can also be found in other cases, he decided
that the potential for teaching the audience that unseemly relationships are to be punished
trumped the attack on the teacher’s authority. Kibbutz essentially loses his status through
his immoral behavior.
As a mechanism that controlled the creativity of authors, censorship in Vienna,
particularly in the nineteenth century, was quite effective. Nevertheless, plenty of
objectionable material managed to slip through. As we now know from Hägelin’s
censorship directive (see
Chapter
1), music was certainly a thorny issue for the censors.
In the voice-lesson scene from Der 30-jährige ABC-Schütz, there is little that is
objectionable in the libretto: at the beginning of the scene the censor crossed out the word
“Teufel,” and at the end of the musical number, a quartet, he crosses the same word out
again. References to the devil, just like those to God, heaven, or anything sexual, were
generally crossed out as a matter of course. Other than these two instances of the word
for devil, there is nothing in the scene that could be considered to have hidden sexual
meaning or a direct attack on religion or state. It is one of the funniest intact portions of
the piece. The various repetitions and games that occur only in the music may have given
the singers some freedom to improvise, something that would certainly have been
considered unacceptable.
The education of Kaspar von Eselbank’s two children, Thaddädl and Rosel,
emulates that of children in an actual aristocratic family. The purpose of dance and music
lessons was to prepare the young people for social interactions in which they would be

84

expected to have an awareness of etiquette and to be able to demonstrate their skills in
public. One of the main comic themes of this piece is that these children, particularly
Thaddädl, are hopeless students. In Hensler’s text to the voice lesson, we read how
Schnipp, disguised as a voice teacher, and the children’s governess, Jungfer Potasch,
complain bitterly about the terrible noise as soon as the children begin their first vocal
exercise. Hensler shows that the scale they sing is incorrect in that he begins with the
proper solfège syllables “ut re mi fa sol la” but continues with the wrong ones “mi” and
“re.” Following this, Rosel sings the correct “ut re mi fa” but Thaddädl, obviously the
weaker student, cannot reproduce the last syllable and sings “ut re mi la.” In his score to
this quartet, Müller made an effort to illustrate these musical mistakes in a number of
their potential variables.

85

Example
2.1:
Opening
of
the
quartet
from
Der
30-jährige
ABC-Schütz
by
Karl

Friedrich
Hensler
and
Wenzel
Müller,
mm.
1-‐5,
A-‐Wst,
MH-‐6547.

°
¢
°
¢
°
¢
Horn in Eb
Flute
Clarinet in Eb
Bassoon
Violin I
Violin II
Viola
Rosel
Potasch
Taddädl
Schnipp
Bass
p
1
p
p
p
p
Was soll denn das vie le - Plau dern - und was soll das lan ge - Zau dern,
c
c
c
c
c
c
c
c
c
c
c
c
&
&
b
b
b
∑ ∑
&
∑ ∑ ∑
?
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑
&
b
b
b
. .
&
b
b
b
B
b
b
b
&
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
&
b
b
b
∑
&
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
?
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
?
b
b
b
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
Œ Ó Ó
˙
˙
œ
œ
Œ Ó Ó
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
Œ Ó
˙
Ó
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
Œ Ó
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
Œ Ó
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
œœœœ
œ
œ
œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
œœœœ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ b
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
Œ
œ
j
œ
j
œ
j
œ
j
œ
j
œ
j
œ
J
œ
J
Œ Ó Œ
œ
j
œ
j
œ
j
œ
j
œ
j
œ
j
œ
J
œ
J
Œ Ó
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ

86

As mentioned earlier, the beginning of the quartet is written as if it were a vocal
warmup (Example 2.1). For an audience member, who likely has a working knowledge of
music or at least knows of musical scales and their syllables, the expectation is to hear a
continuously ascending scale. One might imagine that the orchestral introduction, which
sounds like the beginning of an arpeggio exercise, could have been played in a dragging
manner to foreshadow the disastrous voice lesson that is about to ensue.
After Rosel begins singing the scale, Thaddädl repeats it (Example 2.2, m. 35); in
the beginning everything is correct and an E-flat-major scale is heard, but in m. 39, the
errors begin in diminution. Rosel starts using incorrect syllables: her “sol la mi re”
should, according to the pitches, read “sol la ti [or si] ut.” The weaker student, Taddädl,
simply apes everything she sings. In m. 41 Rosel demonstrates a new mistake by singing
a number of notes on the same syllable, in this case “re,” something that is obviously not
allowed since each note is assigned one syllable. From measures 42 to 44, Rosel sings
what should be stepwise syllables, “ut re mi fa sol” in leaps of fourths, while Thaddädl
adds his own unique error of singing diverse syllables to the same note. For example, in
m. 44, he sings an F on “mi.” This tone, which is tied to the next measure, remains an F
but Thaddädl changes his syllable to “fa.” Neither singer pays attention to the direction—
rising or falling—of the melody; Thaddädl’s part between m. 43 and m. 46 is largely
downward moving, but the syllables he sings, including “ut re mi sol fa,” are mainly
ascending. In m. 46, the aforementioned mistakes are exaggerated further in that, for
example, Rosel sings grace-note figures in which both notes have the same syllable. In
this part of the score, the syllable “re” is actually used for most of the phrase.
But putting aside these errors for a moment, if one listens to the section I have just

87

Example 2.2: Excerpt of quartet from Der 30-jährige ABC-Schütz, mm. 35-54.

°
¢
°
¢
°
¢
Horn in Eb
Flute
Clarinet in Eb
Bassoon
Violin I
Violin II
Viola
Rosel
Potasch
Taddädl
Schnipp
Bass
35 40
sol la mi re re re re re ut re
ut re mi fa sol sol la mi re ut re mi -
&
∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
&
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
&
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
?
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
&
b
b
b
.
&
b
b
b
∑
B
b
b
b
∑ ∑
&
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
&
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
&
‹
b
b
b
∑
?
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
?
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
œ Œ Ó Œ œ
œ
œ
w œ
œ
œ
˙
˙™
œ
w
w
˙
˙
œ
Œ Ó Œ
œ
œ
œ n
w œ
œ b
œ
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ
Œ Ó Œ
œ
œ
œ
˙ n
œ
œ b
œ
Œ œ
œ
œ
w œ
œ
J
œ
J
˙
˙™
œ
w
w
˙
˙
w
Œ
œ
œ
œ n
w œ
œ b
œ
˙

88

°
¢
°
¢
°
¢
Hn.
Fl.
Cl.
Bn.
V. I.
V. II.
Vla.
Ros.
Pot.
Tad.
Sch.
Bs.
43 46
p
mi fa sol la fa mi re mi re mi re re re re re mi re re re re re
Mei ne -
fa sol la ut re mi fa sol la mi -
&
∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
&
b
b
b
∑ ∑
n n
&
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
?
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
&
b
b
b
&
b
b
b
B
b
b
b
&
b
b
b
&
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
&
‹
b
b
b
?
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
?
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑ ∑
Ó Œ
œ
œ
œ n
œ
œ
J
‰
fi
œ
j
˙
œ
œ n
œ
œ
œ
œ n
œ
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œ
œ
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˙
fi
œ
j
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Œ
Œ
‰ ‰ Œ Ó
˙
™
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˙ b ™
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˙
™
œ
œ n
œ
fi
œ
j
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œ œ
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fi
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j
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j
‰
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œ n
œ
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Œ
˙
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fi
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fi
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fi
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˙ b ™
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œ
fi
œ
j
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fi
œ
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œ
J
œ
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œ
J
œ
J
œ
fi
œ
j
œ
œ n
œ
J
œ
J
œ
J
œ
J
œ
Œ
Ó Œ
œ
J
œ
J
œ
œ
œ
˙ œ
œ
œ
˙ œ
œ
œ
œ œ
œ
œ
fi
œ
j
œ
œ
œ
fi
œ
j
œ
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œ
J
œ
J
œ
J
œ
J
œ
fi
œ
j
œ
œ
œ
J
œ
J
œ
J
œ
J
œ
Œ

89

°
¢
°
¢
°
¢
Hn.
Fl.
Cl.
Bn.
V.I.
V.II.
Vla.
Ros.
Pot.
Tad.
Sch.
Bs.
ff
sfz
49
ff sfz
ff sfz
ff ff
sfz
ff
ff
ff
Oh ren mei ne Oh ren mei ne Oh ren
O weh! o
sfz
&
&
b
b
b
&
b
b
b
?
b
b
b
&
b
b
b
&
b
b
b
B
b
b
b
&
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑
&
b
b
b
&
‹
b
b
b
∑ ∑ ∑
?
b
b
b
∑
?
b
b
b
w
w
w
w
˙
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˙
™
œ
œ
w w
˙™
œ
w
w #
n w
w #
n
˙
˙
™
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œ
œ #
n
w
w
w
w
˙
˙
b
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æ
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w
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w n
#
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w n
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#
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æ
w
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æ
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æ
æ
˙™
æ
æ
œ

90

described, between m. 42 and m. 45, the music sounds rather baroque, in other words, it
evokes the “learned style,” as it was called at the time. This can be seen both in the many
°
¢
°
¢
°
¢
Hn.
Fl.
Ob.
Bsn.
Vln. I
Vln. II
Vla.
Ros.
Pot.
Tad.
Sch.
Bs.
sfz
52
sfz
sfz
sfz
sfz sfz sfz
sfz
sfz
sfz
sfz sfz sfz sfz
sfz sfz
ut re mi fa sol la mi re re mi re
mei ne Oh ren
ut re =
weh o
&
&
b
b
b
&
b
b
b
?
b
b
b
&
b
b
b
&
b
b
b
B
b
b
b
&
b
b
b
∑
&
b
b
b
&
‹
b
b
b
∑
?
b
b
b
∑ ∑
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b
b
b
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œ
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Œ
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œ
J
Œ ∑ ∑
Œ
œ
J
œ b
J
œ
œ
J
œ
J
œ
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œ
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œ
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æ
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œ
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œ
Œ

91

suspensions that all resolve properly, according to the rules of counterpoint. This part of
the quartet is musically more complex than the earlier sections, yet it is sung by the
students, who are supposed to be the most musically inept of the four characters. In this
way, the music speaks against the text, which presents the students as rather stupid. In a
way, Müller is engaging in minor subversion, by presenting an affront against authority
that is only perceivable in the music. The “stupid” students, singing in correct
counterpoint, show us a higher, more demanding type of music than either of the two
teachers can muster.
In m. 46, the serene mood of the overlapping suspensions is rudely interrupted by
governess Potasch, who participates in a jarring diminished chord in order to express her
disgust with what she is hearing. She sings (presumably covering her ears) “meine Ohren,
meine Ohren,” thereby demonstrating her ignorance of the learned music she is
interrupting. Her descending leap at this point is a tritone—the devil’s interval—by
which Müller shows that the most unpleasant sounds for the ears actually come from a
teacher and not a student. Schnipp, the voice teacher, shows his own lack of taste and
sophistication by complaining that the students’ singing sounds terrible. Of course, the
performers playing the students may also have decided to employ unpleasant-sounding
vocal production.
Musically creative ideas like the amusing ones in this quartet are not often found
in other Müller pieces I examined. He was under constant pressure to produce new music
for the theater, and as a result, much of his music is harmonically and structurally fairly
simple, although it often includes attractive melodies. But this quartet, with its cheeky
subliminal game is an example in which the music supplies a message that would not

92

necessarily have been acceptable to censors. It is unsurprising that censors did not catch
such musical mischief: they generally did not look at scores, and even if they had, they
would not necessarily have been able to read them. Certainly Müller must have enjoyed
himself immensely when he wrote the musical jokes in this quartet, but the real question
is whether or not the public understood them.

Censoring Don Juan: Theater Censor Franz Karl Hägelin’s Treatment of a
Singspiel by Mozart

In Julian Rushton’s Cambridge Opera Handbook on Don Giovanni, words like
“regrettable” and “degraded” figure quite prominently when he writes about the singspiel
versions of the opera.
107
While not of the persuasion that all music or all theater is equal
in quality, I believe that it is all equally worthy of study, and prefer to look at such
adaptations of the opera as relevant to our understanding of the values, the interests, and
to a large extent the restrictions of early Biedermeier culture. The institution of
censorship certainly shaped the tastes of the audience in powerful ways that we can
scarcely imagine today, and the surviving manuscripts give a glimpse of a world that was
surely not unfamiliar to people like Mozart, who, after all, lived a couple of years past the
start of the French Revolution into the beginning of a more restrictive time in Austria.
The singspiel Don Juan with text by Friedrich Karl Lippert is based loosely on Da
Ponte’s libretto and was intended for performance with Mozart’s music. The biggest
differences between this piece and Da Ponte’s lie in the dialogues that Lippert added,

107
Julian Rushton, W.A. Mozart: Don Giovanni (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 1981), 68-73.

93

many of which bring back some elements from Molière’s original play. Don Juan
receives the lion’s share of the dialogue, and we should note that Lippert was the first
German-language Don Juan, who was, according to contemporary reports, more of an
actor than a singer and according to Rushton, a ham.
108
In the following discussion, I
examine some of the layers of censorship both self-imposed and official and a few of the
significant variations and chronological issues related to Lippert’s manuscript that seem
to have been misrepresented at least in part by Otto Erich Deutsch.
109

In order to show how Franz Karl Häglelin’s censorship practices changed during
his career and to place his treatment of Lippert’s text in context, it is instructive to look at
Karl Marinelli’s Dom Juan play, written for his Theater in der Leopoldstadt, which
Hägelin censored in 1783. Marinelli’s manuscript is relatively free of censorship
markings, as is the case with many works from the 1780s.
110
For his verdict at the end of
the piece, Hägelin simply writes that the play may be printed with the corrections he has
made. Hägelin does not include a date, but in this particularly beautiful and detailed
manuscript, of which Marinelli was perhaps proud, the date is given at the end in the
same red ink that was also used for the stage directions. Lippert’s singspiel was first
performed in 1798, and unlike in the case of Marinelli’s, its libretto is covered with
markings of a bewildering variety.
111
There are three verdicts by Hägelin on the back of
the libretto, the second and third of which I will address later. The first reads: “can be
printed and performed with corrections” (kann mit Korrekturen gedruckt und
aufgeführt

108
Ibid., 71
109
See Otto Erich Deutsch, Wiener Musikgeschichten (Vienna: Dachs Verlag, 1993), 63-
70. See also, Deutsch’s Nachlass in the Wienbibliothek; AN57, Karton 8.
110
Karl Marinelli, Dom Juan oder der steinerne Gast, A-Wst, H.I.N.-156955.
111
A-Wn, Mus. Hs. 32702.

94

werden.).
112
This first verdict was probably written prior to the first performance of
Lippert’s original four-act version in 1798. As I have shown in my previous work,
Hägelin never added much more than a simple approval for performance and printing at
the ends of plays and only began adding dates in 1801, when jurisdiction over censorship
shifted to the police, and his superiors began ordering more specific evaluations from
him.
113
In 1798 then, the libretto was censored in a relatively cursory manner, receiving
the same treatment from Hägelin as Marinelli’s play and most other works of the time.
Probably in 1803 the singspiel was reduced from four acts to two and resubmitted to
Hägelin, prior to the planned performance. An evaluation, in the form of a separate
document, submitted by Hägelin to the police that year as part of the new protocol for
censoring pieces, mentions these extensive cuts and changes and states that the piece
should no longer be offensive in any way.
114
Usually, the same copy of a manuscript was
resubmitted each time a theater wished to perform a certain play, and this is how so many
layers of markings by censors, directors, and others accumulated over the years. In many
cases one can see the censorship growing stricter with time, particularly as different
censors appear after Hägelin is no longer in the picture. In some manuscripts from the
very end of Hägelin’s career other censors’ markings, particularly their stamps of
approval on pieces, can be seen, because the power to give final approval was eventually
taken away from Hägelin.

112
A-Wn, Mus. Hs 32702, fol. 111v.
113
Lisa de Alwis, “Sensitive Censorship: Theater Censor Franz Karl Hägelin’s
Unpublished Evaluations (1802-1803) of Viennese Stage Works“ (paper presented at the
annual meeting of the German Studies Association, Louisville, KY, September 23, 2011);
see also Chapter 1.
114
A-Wst, H.I.N.-25831, 273.

95

A closer look at a few pages of Lippert’s manuscript will help to explicate some
of the censorship issues it presents. The seventh scene in the first act, between Don Juan
and a sort of bailiff who is searching for the murderer of Donna Anna’s father (named the
Comthur in this libretto), does not come from Molière and is not even present in
Marinelli’s version of the piece. The main purpose of the scene is to show the humorous
contrast between the bumbling bailiff who asks very clumsy questions and the suave Don
Juan who flatters the bailiff while making him appear ever more ridiculous to the
audience. The problem with trying to ascertain what was actually performed and what
was censored in this case is that there are actually two separate scenes, one of which was
inserted as a replacement, perhaps at the time that the original pages were sewn shut. The
original scene includes a second bailiff who serves as a mute sidekick to the first. In what
I think was his first pass at censoring the libretto, presumably for the 1798 performance
when the piece was still four acts long, Hägelin crosses out only two passages in the
scene. First is the bailiff’s answer when asked by Don Juan what he wants; the bailiff
replies, “We are holding house-searches” (Wir halten Hausdurchsuchung.).
115
Due to
inspections that became common at the time for various reasons, including census-taking
for the purposes of conscription, the censor probably felt it was judicious to avoid
allusions on stage to problems with invasions of their homes that the Viennese public
might have experienced. The other passage to which Hägelin objected involves the
ensuing conversation after the bailiff’s question “Where are you coming from now?” (Wo
kommen Sie jetzt her?). Don Juan answers, “From the last post station, where they gave
me such small mules that could barely pull my carriage” (Von der lezten Poststazion, wo

115
Mus. Hs. 32702, fol. 18v.

96

man mir so kleine Maulesel vorspannte, daß sie kaum meinen Wagen schleppen
konnten.). The mules become donkeys in the conversation, which is easier to do in
German (“Maulesel” becomes “Esel”), and the bailiff responds, “Be patient my lord! . . .
In the city the donkeys are bigger than in the country” (Gedulden Sie sich mein Herr! . . .
In der Stadt sind die Eseln größer als auf dem Lande.).
116
Originally, Hägelin replaced
these words with the incomplete sentence “there, there are several mules that are bigger
that” (da gibt es manche MaulEsel die größer sind, die”). Hägelin was probably following
a protocol that did not allow making fun of specific groups of people, like those from the
city. Perhaps this is an example of something Hägelin corrected in 1798 that could not
pass in 1803. As can be seen in the image, Hägelin changed his mind and crossed out the
passage as well as his own corrections (Figure 2.1). Other than these two passages, the
scene is clean of censor’s markings.

Figure
2.1: Hägelin crosses out his own corrections in Don Juan. A-Wn, Mus.Hs.32702.

There are several passages in the original scene to which Hägelin might have
taken exception that show no markings by him. These passages may explain why the
pages were sewn shut upon (or perhaps prior to) his second perusal of the libretto. When

116
Ibid., fols. 22v-23r.

97

the bailiff asks Don Juan for his name, he responds that it is the same as that of his male
cat.
117
While audiences would have undoubtedly found this funny, the line was surely too
full of sexual connotation to be passed. Later in the scene Don Juan, having gained the
trust of the bailiff, states his mission quite simply: “I am actually here to bring all women
pleasure and to gall all men” (Ich bin eigentlich hier, um allen Weibern Vergnügen, und
allen Männern Galle zu machen.). The bailiff asks, “Did you not also gall the deceased
governor?” (Haben sie dem verstorbenen Gouverneur auch Galle gemacht?), to which
Don Juan responds “One single time in my whole life, but I arranged it so that he can
never complain.” (Ein einzigesmal in meinem ganzen Leben, aber ich hab es so
eingerichtet, daß er sich nie beklagen kann.).
118

The four pages of the rewritten scene were probably added after those of the
original scene were sewn shut following the 1798 performance, but it is unclear whether
or not they would have been seen by Hägelin; while there are crossed out words and
sentences, these appear to be improvements or alterations made for aesthetic reasons
rather then due to censorship concerns. Only a few small changes could perhaps be traced
back to Hägelin: the second page, for example, shows the first part of the word
“Edelmann” (nobleman) crossed out and corrected to “Mann meines Standes” (man of
my station), exactly the type of alteration Hägelin tended to make. The slanted vertical
lines that cross out the word “Edel” are consistent with other markings by the censor, and
the hand in which the words “meines Standes” are written could be Hägelin’s. But these
two words hardly suffice as an adequate handwriting sample, and the other corrections on
these pages look even less as though they were made by him.

117
Ibid., fol. 21v.
118
Ibid., fols. 23v-24r.

98

Overall, the rewritten scene contains less morally offensive material than the
original, and the bailiff and his now twin sidekicks still come across as silly, but mainly
with regard to their questioning a man of high status. Don Juan manipulates the
conversation to make the officers of the law feel bad that they have accused someone of
his position of committing a crime. In later censored theatrical pieces it became difficult
for authors to justify a nobleman’s appearance at all, let alone as a potential criminal.
And it was not permissible to make lawyers and other people with respectable jobs, such
as teachers, look ridiculous. The questioning and ridiculing of authority, a staple of
Hanswurst and Kasperle comedies, comes more and more to be viewed as an insult by
extension to the authority of the state.
Deutsch is misleading in attributing crossings-out and replacements of text to a
censor, although he avoids mentioning Hägelin’s name unless he is sure it is his
handwriting.
119
Perhaps he thought it was an anonymous censor who crossed out certain
lines, but that would be odd because Deutsch surely knew that Hägelin was the only
censor responsible for the theater from 1770 until 1805. In any case, Deutsch was not
interested in distinguishing between censors’ marks and those made by other people; in
some places, his text glosses over this difference and implies that all of the marks are by
censors. In the scene of Don Juan’s second attempt to seduce Zerlina, for example, in the
duet of the first Finale of the first Act, the following text:
120

Komm, uns lockt die finstre Laube,
Komm verscherz dein Glücke nicht.
Come, the dark bower tempts us,
Come don’t spoil your chances.

119
Deutsch, 67.
120
Ibid.; Mus. Hs. 32702, fol. 48r.

99

has been partially crossed out and changed to:

Komm, uns lockt dort eine Laube
Mädchen komm, und zaudre nicht.
Come, over there a bower tempts us
Come girl, and waver not.

The handwriting crossing out the lines and adding the corrections is not Hägelin’s, and is
therefore not the mark of a censor. The same handwriting can also be seen in other places
in the libretto, where it crosses out both innocuous lines and offensive ones and replaces
them with different wording. Rather than censoring, this writer was trying to improve or
at least change the text for aesthetic reasons (in the case of the innocuous lines), but
possibly also for pre-censorship purposes; censoring one’s own material ahead of
submission to the censor often sped up the process and allowed the theaters to begin
rehearsing pieces sooner.
But the lines about lovers hiding in a bower are interesting for another reason as
well: enclosed spaces in which couples can hide seem to be one of Hägelin’s particular
concerns, on which he holds forth at length in several documents. Perhaps singing about
potentially entering a bower with a lover is not as offensive as actually going there. In a
later part of the libretto, Hägelin altered stage directions, which read:
Don Juan führt Zerlina sträubend in ein
Seiten Kabinet.
Don Juan leads a resisting Zerlina into
a closet.

to

Don Juan führt Zerlina sträubend in ein
Seiten Kabinet ab.
Don Juan leads a resisting Zerlina
offstage.

100

This helps clarify a point I made in Chapter 1 with regard to the famous Viennese ban on
lovers leaving the stage together. It is not that two lovers were not allowed to leave the
stage together, but rather that they could not leave in order to enter into an enclosed,
private space. Here is the relevant passage from Hägelin’s 1795 censorship directive,
including, in boldface, the portion that was left out by Karl Glossy in his publication of it.
Die Censur hat auch darauf zu sehen,
daß nie zwei verliebte Personen
miteinander allein vom Theater
abtreten um sich in ein Kabinet oder
Haus hineinzubegeben wodurch der
Zuschauer bewogen wird, arges zu
vermuthen.
The censorship office must see to it
that two lovers are never allowed to
leave the theater alone in order to
betake themselves into a cabinet or
house, whereby the audience
member would be encouraged to
suspect the worst.

A closer look at the scene including the popular “champagne” aria will show how
complicated it can be to ascertain what text was used in the 1803 or indeed in any
performance. In this libretto, the “champagne” aria is sung right after Donna Elvira has
prevented Don Juan’s seduction of Zerlina. This page shows a short monologue by Don
Juan just before he begins the aria; for the most part, every other line is crossed out twice,
in wavy lines of brown ink as well as in sanguine (Figure 2.2).

101

Figure 2.2: Don Juan’s monologue prior to the “champagne” aria.

Deutsch transcribes the crossed-out lines that were presumably the ones Lippert
originally wrote on the page.
121
An alternate version was added, and at some point the
original lines were crossed out again using sanguine. Obviously, there were some
objections to this alternate version as well, at least for the person wielding the Rötelstift.

121
Deutsch, Wiener Musikgeschichten, 66.

102

Leaving out the several inserted pages that come next and further complicate things, the
text continues, but there are no more red markings, and the aria begins below (Figure
2.3).

Figure 2.3: Opening of the “champagne aria” (lower half of page) in Don Juan.

103

The first few lines about champagne were famous, at least in the Austrian lands, and as in
many of the aria texts, they do not come from Lippert. He often used texts by other
librettists for the arias, perhaps because they are harder to write since they have to fit the
music, or perhaps because certain translations were already familiar to the audience.
Starting with the fourth line of text the wavy lines begin again, and the alternate version
can again be seen in slightly darker ink above each line. Here Deutsch transcribes not the
crossed-out lines, but the alternate version, perhaps because his interest lay in putting
together what he believed was Lippert’s text.
122
But in doing so, he confuses the
censorship question even further. I believe that the only censor’s marks on these pages
are the large Xs that cross out a little less than half of the first page and all of the second.
In addition, there is a small deletion in the lower middle of the first page, in which
Zerlina is referred to as a tasty morsel (“Ein Leckerbissen”), that is also by Hägelin. It
appears that he changed this word to “Schatz” (treasure) and then, possibly when he
censored the manuscript for the second time, crossed out the entire sentence including his
own correction.
In the famous “Batti batti” aria that Zerlina sings to comfort Masetto, Hägelin
alters the following text:
Scherz und Lust soll uns umgeben
Jeden Tag und jede Nacht,
Unser Friede ist gemacht
Fun and joy shall surround us
Every day and every night,
Our happiness is complete.

The second line, “Jeden Tag und jede Nacht,” “every night and every day” is changed to
“Und das Herz im Leibe lacht,” “And the heart laughs in the body.”

122
Deutsch, Wiener Musikgeschichten, 66-67.

104

Scherz und Lust soll uns umgeben
Und das Herz im Leibe lacht.
Unser Friede ist gemacht.
Fun and joy shall surround us
And the heart laughs in the body
Our happiness is complete.

Hägelin’s two verdicts on the final page of the libretto were written within two
days of one another—on December 16 and 18, 1803. In the first of these he writes:
In folge hoher Weisung von heutigen
dato wird gegenwärtige Oper der
Direction mit der Erinnerung
zurückgestellt, daß die roth
angestrichene [Stelle] im 16
ten

Auftritte, dann die Scene zwischen
Don Juan und Zerlina im 18
ten
Auftritte
des ersten Ackts als höchst-
unanständig umzuarbeiten, sodann
nochmals vorzulegen sey. den 16.
Xber 1803.
Due to a high directive of today’s date,
the present opera is being sent back to
[theater] management with the
reminder that the [place] marked in red
in the 16th scene and then the scene
between Don Juan and Zerlina in the
18th scene of the first act are highly
offensive and to be altered and
thereafter presented again. The 16th of
December 1803.

Hägelin’s mention of places marked in red is highly unusual. One might almost think that
he made these red marks himself. At least in later librettos, only theater personnel used
sanguine to indicate cuts or other changes for the performance, and censors only used
very dark ink that was not transparent. But the chronology of all of these markings, and
especially the red ones, boggles the mind and it is difficult to imagine a scenario in which
Hägelin did not make the marks himself. We can entertain this notion for two main

105

reasons, the first being that the institution of censorship was in a state of upheaval during
this time. The police were adjusting to dealing with all of the issues it entailed and the
emperor was increasingly concerned about subversive elements on the stage. Secondly,
there was an unusually fast turnaround for the revisions that were made to this piece. Two
days after the December 16 request for revision that we just saw, Hägelin passes the
piece, writing:
Kann nach den gemachten
Abänderungen nunmehr gedruckt und
aufgeführt werden.
den 18. Xber 1803
Hägelin
Can be printed and performed, now
that the alterations have been made.

The 18th of December 1803
Hägelin

It is almost inconceivable that the piece could have been revised, resubmitted and
approved in two days. As I discuss in Chapter 1, Hägelin owned a house in
Perchtoldsdorf, about 16 kilometers southwest of Vienna, where he spent most of his
time in later years. Works arrived in Perchtoldsdorf on Saturdays and were sent back a
week later; this delay (which was usually longer than a week) was cause for frequent
complaint by the theater directors and created plenty of problems for Hägelin as well.
Either a special exception was made for this piece, or perhaps Hägelin was not being
quite truthful about having resubmitted the singspiel to the authors. I only suggest this
last as a possibility because Hägelin was gradually being pushed out of his office as a
censor and because the rules were becoming almost impossibly convoluted for him to
handle; it is not unlikely that an old man, tired of the lack of respect accorded him after

106

his many years of service, might take a short cut once in a while. It is also worth noting
that according to his estate documents, Karl Friedrich Lippert died on 25 May 1803, so
he was certainly not the one making these revisions for Hägelin.

Conclusion

It may not be possible for any scholar to definitively say who made the sanguine
markings in the scene discussed here or to determine in what form Don Juan was brought
to the stage either in 1798 or in 1803. Not all works went through such an extensive
process, and it was certainly less common for earlier ones and for those in languages
other than German. Prior to 1800, Hägelin himself censored most pieces quite cursorily,
and his attention to detail in Don Juan is directly related to the fact that it was to be
performed in 1803. In the censoring of Der 30-jährige ABC-Schütz, we saw the more
heavy-handed approach of later censors. Music was perhaps the only untouched part of
the work that could still make fun of authority without being caught.
I have shown that some understanding of the censorship process should inform
scholarly work with theatrical pieces from this period. Librettists and playwrights, theater
directors and impresarios catered to the rules of the censor, sometimes to an exaggerated
extent, in order to ensure passage of a piece. The resulting works could therefore be
shaped by censorship long before they even came across the censor’s desk, and as we
have seen, the censor’s personal preferences also had an effect on the final outcome. In
early nineteenth-century Vienna, where restrictions and mistrust always lingered beneath

107

the surface, what was left out of theatrical performances was at least as interesting as
what was included.

108

Chapter 3
Travestirt und falsch: Two Viennese Parodies (1803 and 1818)
of Mozart’s Die Zauberflöte

Introduction

Scholars have studied the sequels to Die Zauberflöte, particularly the famous Der
Zauberflöte zweiter Teil by Goethe and Das Labyrinth with music by Peter von Winter,
far more than the parodies I consider here. These two relatively unknown pieces, Die
Zauberflöte travestirt in Knittelversen mit Beibehaltung des größten Theils der
Mozartschen Musik by Joachim Perinet, from 1803, and Die falsche Zauberflöte,
123
from
1818, with text by Karl Meisl and music by Wenzel Müller, have, as far as I know, been
discussed in detail only by Peter Branscombe in his unpublished dissertation from
1976.
124
Some possible reasons for this lack of research are that the parodies are
inevitably less serious in tone and depart significantly from the original, that they were
written years after Mozart’s death, and that Wenzel Müller’s music to the parody from
1818 is missing. Perhaps scholars felt that these and other works produced by the
Viennese suburban theaters of this period were shallow and uninteresting, with little to

123
This title was changed to Die travestirte Zauberflöte in the printed libretto.
124
Peter Branscombe, “The Connexions Between Drama and Music in the Viennese
Popular Theatre from the Opening of the Leopoldstädter Theater (1781) to Nestroy’s
Opera Parodies (ca 1855), with Special Reference to the Forms of Parody” (PhD diss.,
University of London, 1976).

109

recommend them either musically or dramatically. Indeed the scores from this period that
I have studied contain music that is quite simple in its harmonies and rhythms, and they
may also have been hastily written; this appears to be especially true for Wenzel Müller's
music. Regardless of the quality of either the music or the text, it is nevertheless useful to
consider whether or not these pieces and their relationship to the original work reflect
contemporary attitudes of their respective times. After examining Die Zauberflöte in
relation to other magical operas of its time, I focus on the two parodies and their use of
magic, issues of censorship, the roles of music and text, and what I see as the main
purpose of the parodying in which they engage.

Die Zauberflöte and Other Magical Operas in Vienna

David Buch is not alone when he calls 1789 the year in which “fairy-tale singspiel was
reaching its apogee,” explaining that the theatrical culture out of which Die Zauberflöte
arose already included many other magical operas.
125
In terms of quality, certainly Die
Zauberflöte represents the pinnacle of magical operas, but in terms of quantity, if we

125

David
J.
Buch,
Magic
Flutes
and
Enchanted
Forests
(Chicago:
University
of
Chicago

Press,
2008),
273.
In
his
preface
to
the
NMA
edition
of
Die
Zauberflöte,
Gernot

Gruber
also
refers
to
the
many
magical
pieces
that
influenced
Mozart.
“And
so
he

[Mozart]
became
intimately
familiar
with
Schikaneder’s
type
of
German
singspiels

and
also
with
the
fairy
tale
and
mystery
world
of
Christoph
Martin
Wieland’s

“fashionable”
collection
Dschinnistan,
which
was
dramatised
in
numerous
pieces
on

Schikaneder’s
stage.
“So wurde er [Mozart] mit der Schikanederschen Prägung
deutscher Singspiele eng vertraut, ebenfalls auch mit der Märchen- und Mysterienwelt
von Christoph Martin Wielands ‘modischer’ Sammlung Dschinnistan, die in etlichen
Stücken der Schikaneder-Bühne dramatisiert wurde.” Gernot
Gruber,
preface
to
the

NMA
edition
of
Die
Zauberflöte
(Kassel:
Bärenreiter,
1979),
VII.
See
also
Robert

Spaethling,
“Folklore
and
Enlightenment
in
the
Libretto
of
Mozart’s
Magic
Flute,”

Eighteenth-Century
Studies
9,
no.
1
(Autumn
1975):
61,
62.

110

include the nineteenth-century in the discussion, there were far more magical operas
being produced in the second and third decades of the nineteenth century. However, those
later works, as I discuss both here and in chapter 4, were hardly the full-scale fairy tale
operas that Buch means. I would like to combine a brief look at the magical operas in the
few years immediately prior to Die Zauberflöte with a presentation of evidence against an
assumption by Peter Branscombe. In discussing the parodies of Die Zauberflöte, he
claims that Vienna was a “milieu . . . carefully excluded from the Schikaneder/Mozart
opera.”
126
This implies that magical works contemporary with Die Zauberflöte also
tended to have the local flavor for which Viennese singspiels in general are known and
that Mozart and Schikaneder made a special effort to exclude these features, presumably
in order to make the opera more universal.
Emanuel Schikaneder, together with his wife, took over directorship of the
Theater auf der Wieden in the late spring or summer of 1789 and presented his first work,
the comic opera Der dumme Gärtner aus dem Gebürge oder Die zween Anton, on July
12. Schikaneder’s predecessor, Johann Friedel, did not stage magical operas, judging by
the repertory performed at the theater in its first year of existence, 1788. Friedel left the
theater to be inherited by his partner, Eleonore Schikaneder, who then reconciled with her
husband, Emanuel, and became co-director with him.
127
Four months after his premiere at
the Wiednertheater in July, 1789, Schikaneder staged Paul Wranitzky’s Oberon, König
der Elfen, that theater's first full-scale magic opera and a resounding success. That year,
the Theater in der Leopoldstadt produced its own magic opera with similar success, Das

126

Branscombe, 301.
127
Otto Erich Deutsch, Das Freihaustheater auf der Wieden 1787-1801 (Vienna:
Deutscher Verlag für Jugend und Volk, 1937), 7-12.

111

Glück ist kugelrund, oder Kaspars Ehrentag. The libretto states that it is a
“Feemährchen,” and it contains references to the Tirol and to “diese Gegend”—the latter
much as in Die Zauberflöte, when Tamino asks Papageno about the surroundings in
which he finds himself. The piece takes place in a pseudo-Turkish land and includes
references to people from the Caucasus or from Georgia but none to Vienna. Other,
nonverbal references include characters dressed as and behaving like farmers, but that
seems no more specific to a region than, say, a bird catcher or a priest. Only a slight
increase in the use of dialect, particularly by Kasperl, in Das Glück ist kugelrund marks
this piece as containing more local elements than does Die Zauberflöte. For example,
Kasperl uses the word “Pascherl”
128
instead of “Pascha” when speaking of the ruler of the
land and the word “Madel,” a south German word for “girl,” when discussing his love
interest.
129
There is also an unusual word, “Schnudi,” used to describe a form of currency,
which may come from Philipp Hafner’s parody Evakathel und Schnudi but could also be
a play on the Italian word for money, "scudi."
130
But specific references to Vienna and to
its people and practices are rare at this time; they become common later on, for example
in the two parodies of Die Zauberflöte, but also in some other magical pieces, such as the
Orion pieces that are discussed below.

128
The adding of a diminutive “l” to the ends of words or even to names is a common
feature of the Viennese dialect, so for example, Kaspar becomes Kasperl.
129
The north German word for “girl,” Mädchen, has become the standard word in “high”
German. “Madl” is used, among other places, in Bavaria and Austria, while “Mädl” is
more common in Hesse, Thuringia and Saxony. The Western part of Germany uses
versions of “Mädsche” or “Mägde,” while the Swiss use Meitli or Meitschi.
130
Andrea Brandner-Kapfer and Jennyfer Großauer-Zöbinger, “Karl Friedrich Hensler:
Das Glück ist kugelrund oder Kasperl’s Ehrentag, in “Mäzene des Kasperls Johann Josef
La Roche,” University of Graz, 2008-09,
http://lithes.unigraz.at/maezene/hensler_glueck.html (accessed March 31, 2012), 4, n. 1. I
thank David Buch for pointing out the possible reference to Italian money.

112

Of course there were older works containing magical themes that were performed
at the Theater in der Leopoldstadt in 1789, including Hensler’s Philibert und Kaspar,
Salieri’s Il talismano, and German versions of his La grotta di Trofonio and Martín y
Soler’s L’arbore di Diana. This last work, together with Una cosa rara (which is not a
magical piece) also by Martín y Soler, were both presented at the Burgtheater in 1789,
perhaps prompting the German translations in the Theater in der Leopoldstadt. The
Burgtheater did not include any German-language magical operas that were not
translations in its repertory until after the reputation of Die Zauberflöte was established.
Even though German-language works had technically been transferred to the
Kärntnertortheater, that theater was closed for most of the time during the period under
consideration here. The Kärntnertortheater closed its doors on 6 February, 1788,
reopening for two days on 17 and 18 July, 1791
131
and closing again until 16 November
of that year.
Continuing this brief presentation of magical pieces performed in the few years
immediately prior to the premiere of Die Zauberflöte, it becomes clear that there were
more of them in 1790, perhaps because Schikaneder only had half a year to produce
operas during the previous year. He presented his own Die schöne Islanderin oder Der
Mufti von Samarkanda and Der Stein der Weisen in 1790, as well as productions of
Ariadne of Naxos and a play called Das Schwert der Gerechtigkeit. The Theater in der
Leopoldstadt offered a German translation of Grétry’s Zémire et Azor and Das Sonnenfest
der Braminen, with music by Wenzel Müller. Das Sonnenfest der Braminen does not
have much magical content, but it includes "exotic" high priests and is dependent on

131
The pieces performed on those days were Taube Liebhaber, a translation from the
English, and Pimmalione, an Italian translation of Rousseau's Pygmalion.

113

many stormy weather effects that occur frequently, especially when Brahma is
invoked.
132
The Theater in der Leopoldstadt also continued its tradition of presenting a
Don Juan play, usually Marinelli's version, on or around All Souls' Day (November 2).
Several older so-called Kasperliaden were also offered,
133
as well as one ballet that may
have included magical content: Die Geister im Wäschkasten. Other works with names
that may seem promising as far as their magical content, like Der Geisterseher, are in fact
devoid of any supernatural features. In terms of local humor or local references in
general, none of the texts to which I had access contained any—Das Sonnenfest der

132
I was not able to find evidence that a revised version of Die Hexe Megäre was
performed at the Theater in der Leopoldstadt on or around July 3. 1790, as Buch states. It
is unclear whether he means that the score he found in Český Krumlov bears this date.
Buch attributes the music to Anton Eberl, citing A. Duane White’s entry in the New
Grove Dictionary of Opera: A. Duane White, "Eberl, Anton," in The New Grove
Dictionary of Opera, edited by Stanley Sadie, Grove Music Online, Oxford Music Online,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.libproxy.usc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/5001
7 (accessed April 10, 2012). However, according to Müller’s diary and Hadamowsky’s
Das Theater in der Wiener Leopoldstadt (which I think are the most reliable sources for
what was performed at this theater), Eberl only had one piece performed at the Theater in
der Leopoldstadt: Die Marchande des Modes, which had its premiere on February 27,
1787. Eberl’s brother Ferdinand was more active at this theater, but he was a librettist and
translator, and also the director of the Theater in der Josephstadt for a short time. White
and several other sources also list a piece attributed to Anton Eberl called Graf Balduin
von Flandern as having been performed at the Theater in der Leopoldstadt in 1788, but
neither Hadamowsky nor Müller’s diary shows that piece as ever having been performed
there. Die Hexe Megäre has many incarnations (with slightly different titles) and a
complex history, which would need to be analyzed more thoroughly. It was first
performed at the Theater in der Leopoldstadt in 1781 and then presented between one and
five times each subsequent year until 1789, after which it was not performed again until
1792. Neither Müller’s diary nor Hadamowsky indicates that a new version of the piece
was created in or around 1790. A new version with text by Perinet and music by Müller
appears in 1806. See Buch, 308; Franz Hadamowsky, Das Theater in der Wiener
Leopoldstadt 1781-1860 (Vienna: O. Höfels, 1934).
133
These included Philibert und Kasperl im Reiche der Phantasie, Der Zauberspiegel
oder Kasperle der verstellte Bassa von Hassabassa, and Merkur, der Neumodezauberer,
oder Kaspars Hochzeit nach seinem Tode.

114

Braminen and even Der Stein der Weisen possess a somewhat serious tone, more akin to
that of Die Zauberflöte, than do Kasperliaden like das Glück ist kugelrund.
In 1791, the year of Die Zauberflöte, the other works with magical elements
performed at the Theater auf der Wieden include Der wohltätige Derwisch, and a play
called Ludwig Herzog von Steiermark oder Sarmäts Feuerbär, which was premiered on
August 3. The Theater in der Leopoldstadt presented Kasperl der glückliche Vogelkrämer
oder Das Glück kennt seine Lieblinge, which is described as a Feenmärchen by Rudolph
Angermüller and as a Zauberoper by Buch.
134
There was also a piece called Kaspars
Zögling, oder Der Sieg der Bescheidenheit auf der Insel des Vergnügens.
135
I discuss
most of these pieces in more detail below. The Theater in der Leopoldstadt’s most
successful magical work in 1791 was Kaspar der Fagottist, oder Die Zauberzither, with a
libretto written by Perinet and music by Müller. Frequently cited as competition with, if
not an influence on, Mozart and Schikaneder’s opera,
136
this piece is derived from
Wieland’s Dschinnistan, which was popular reading material in the late 1780s. In earlier
scholarship, much was made of the idea that Perinet and the people at the Theater in der
Leopoldstadt preempted Schikaneder and Mozart by presenting their opera first.
137
As in

134
Rudolph Angermüller, Wenzel Müller und “sein” Leopoldstädter Theater (Vienna:
Böhlau, 2009), 174; Buch, 308. The title is listed as Kaspar der Vogelkrämer in Müller’s
diary and also in Egon R. von Komorzyński, Emanuel Schikaneder (Berlin: Behr’s
Verlag, 1901), 126.
135
Buch believed that no libretto survived, but four copies of this piece are now available
at the Austrian National Library. He also corrects the word Beständigkeit, which means
“constancy” to Bescheidenkeit (sic, Bescheidenheit, meaning “modesty).” Buch, 308.
136
Branscombe disputes this notion. Peter Branscombe. "Kaspar der Fagottist," in The
New Grove Dictionary of Opera, edited by Stanley Sadie, Grove Music Online, Oxford
Music Online,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.libproxy.usc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/O00
9073 (accessed February 27, 2012).
137
Rommel refutes this idea, 495-99.

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all of the works I have discussed so far, there is no Viennese local humor or any reference
to Vienna in this piece.
In terms of magical content, Kaspar der Fagottist is of interest because it presents
two ways of dealing with magical characters. The sorcerer Bosphoro, in contrast to an
authority figure like Sarastro, is rather ridiculous and bumbling,
138
while the fairy
Perisime commands great powers, and her pronouncements are often accompanied by
impressive special effects. Magic, in other words, does not necessarily need to be treated
seriously and can be a source of humor. This is distinctly different from how earlier
pieces treat magic, and as I discuss in the next section, it is representative of the later
trend to which the parodies of Die Zauberflöte also belong.
There were some other theaters in Vienna during this time, particularly the
Theater in der Josefstadt, which was founded in 1788, but I am not aware of readily
available lists of their productions. Based on the limited information available from the
above-mentioned theaters, the number of magical operas they produced is far smaller
than what I have seen for later periods. This might mean that more magical operas were
produced in an attempt to capture the same kind of acclaim as Die Zauberflöte, but the
numbers are deceptive because these later works, although they were listed as magical
(perhaps to attract audiences), often contained little or insignificant magical content.
There were several peaks in production for magical pieces in earlier years, for instance in
the 1750s and 60s, with what Otto Rommel calls Zauberburlesken,
139
but judging from
the large number of Theaterzettel advertising such pieces from the second and third

138
Bosphoro’s only attempt to use magic fails miserably and results in his needing to be
rescued.
139
Rommel, 399–411.

116

decades of the nineteenth century, it appears that the greatest volume of such magical
pieces came much later. It also seems that local Viennese humor and references to
Vienna were rarely present in these magical pieces from the years immediately prior to
Die Zauberflöte and that the lack of this type of humor is therefore not unique to Mozart
and Schikaneder’s work.
“Magic” in Magical Opera

I think it fair to say that the role of magic is taken seriously in Die Zauberflöte. Even if it
sometimes has an amusing result, like making Monostatos and the slaves dance, it is still
a powerful force to be respected, both in the worlds of the serious and of the comic
characters.
140
Attitudes toward magic change between the time of Die Zauberflöte and
later Viennese stage works, and a contemporary review serves well to illustrate the earlier
viewpoint. The kritisches Theater-Journal von Wien from 1789, represents the most
conservative thinking on the subject and takes a dim view of any use of magic on stage.
The author of the article, which is actually a review of Das Glück ist kugelrund oder
Kaspars Ehrentag, writes that magic on stage encourages questioning, particularly on the
part of the lower-class audience member (der Pöbel) and therefore threatens the
mysteries of religion because spiritual miracles should be accepted unquestioningly. As
David Buch, who also cites this review puts it, “Fairy tales are said to usurp the only
legitimate use of the marvelous element, that of religion.”
141
This desire to protect
already eroded morals and beliefs of the uneducated member of the public is typical of

140
Rommel thinks this is left over from the heritage of Baroque opera, 493.
141
Buch, 273.

117

the Enlightenment thinking that was encouraged by Joseph II. In such an environment,
magic still had the potential to terrify or to inspire awe.
One such piece, in which magic is used seriously, is Ludwig Herzog von
Steiermark oder Sarmäts Feuerbär, a play by Schikaneder that had its premiere on
August 3, 1791, less than two months before Die Zauberflöte. In the libretto it is
described as “Ein Schauspiel in vier Aufzügen. Nach einem alten Volksmärchen
bearbeitet” (“a play in four acts adapted after an old folktale”). But more than just a play
or even a fairytale, this piece is a so-called Ritterstück which, with its emphases on
chivalry and feudal tensions, was a popular genre at various times in Viennese theater
history and did not necessarily include magic. The character Sarmät, however, is a
sorcerer with significant powers that I think are relevant to the plot, although Rommel
sees the magical aspects of the piece as no more than decorative.
142
Rommel’s view is not
quite accurate for this piece because magic is almost exclusively used in a violent way,
and ultimately it is magic that saves the day: Sarmät has a magic hammer with which he
sometimes strikes people on the head, causing them to go mad. At the climax of the
piece, he disables the villain, a pretender to the dukedom, in this manner. The “fire bear”
of the title may just have been a means to bring audiences to the theater, perhaps to see an
actual animal, or at least an interesting costume. The only reference to fire together with

142
“The magical elements in the Ritterstücken, Sarmäts Feuerbär and Das Bergmännlein
in der Welserin, from his [Schikaneder’s] years of travel did not go beyond the
decorative, as was customary in the Ritterstücken and Ritterromanen of the time (“Die
zauberischen Elemente in den Ritterstücken seiner Wanderzeit [Schikaneders] Sarmäts
Feuerbär und Das Bergmännlein in der Welserin, waren nicht über das Dekorative
hinausgegangen, wie es in Ritterstücken und Ritterromanen der Zeit üblich gewesen
war”); Rommel, 527. “Wanderzeit” refers to the journeyman years, during which a
craftsman, after he has completed his apprenticeship travels around studying with various
masters.

118

the bear in the piece is that the character Mathies enters a cave and a bear with fiery eyes
approaches him. On the single occasion at which the bear attacks, thunder is heard in the
background, but other than that the bear is not a magical creature. Sarmät’s magical
powers are used sparingly in the piece, and more frequently, it is simply the threat of
them that shapes some scenes.
Even in the Kasperliaden from this period, the treatment of magic remains the
same. Kaspars Zögling, oder Der Sieg der Bescheidenheit auf der Insel des Vergnügens
from 1791 is a very different sort of work from Die Zauberflöte, but it is an example of a
piece that also treats magic relatively seriously and even includes a moralizing aspect
similar to that in Die Zauberflöte,
143
although in this case the presence of moralizing
maxims may be due to the fact that it was a work for children. Written by Perinet,
Kaspars Zögling probably represents one of his earliest pieces. The music is by
Ferdinand Kauer, who was the creator and director of the Kinderinstitut of the Theater in
der Leopoldstadt, and its premiere took place there on February 1, 1791; According to
Hadamowsky, it was performed eleven times that month as well as a few times in
subsequent months.
144
For some of the later performances Müller lists it in his Spielplan
as an “Oper von Kindern.” The performers were presumably all children of the theater
personnel—among their names, one recognizes the Marinelli children: Josepha, who was
born in 1783, plays a maid of the princess Modeste, and Karl, who would have been

143
Analyzing the moralizing aspects is beyond the scope of my study, but Martin
Nedbal’s dissertation is devoted to this subject, and in it he claims that Die Zauberflöte is
unique in its particular way of moralizing. Martin Nedbal, “Morals across the Footlights:
Viennese Singspiel, National Identity, and the Aesthetics of Morality, c. 1770-1820”
(PhD diss., Eastman School of Music, 2009).
144
Hadamowsky, 182.

119

about five at the time of the premiere, plays a genie.
145
Karl later took over directorship
of the theater in a long and complicated battle with other interested parties.
146
Kauer was
in charge of the theatrical schooling for the children but also got his start as a composer
by writing children’s operas.
147

Many magical occurrences in this piece are remnants from Baroque opera, like
the theatrical effect of a dolphin that arrives on the shore and spits Kaspar out of its
mouth, or a Cupid who shoots the lovers Kaspar and Modeste with an arrow. Another
possibly Baroque technique occurs when everyone on stage is suddenly frozen into
inaction while one character remains unaffected and is able to comment on the others and
walk around the stage. Several Wolkenwagen or cloud chariots, a form of transportation
that later Viennese operas (and especially parodies) tend to mock, also appear throughout
the piece. Rommel asserts that there is no trace of such powerful or effective supernatural
forces in Viennese works of suburban theater composers from the nineteenth century, and
this is evident both in their texts and in the music.
148
Any exceptions to this are either
translations of foreign-language pieces, works written by composers from other German-
speaking areas, or works like Das Zauberschwert by Joseph Leopold Eybler, who,
although he was employed at the Burgtheater, wrote the opera for the Theater in der

145

Jennyfer Großauer-Zöbinger, “Biographie: Karl Edler von Marinelli (1745-1803),” in
“Mäzene des Kasperls Johann Josef La Roche,” University of Graz, 2008-09,
http://lithes.uni-‐graz.at/maezene-‐pdfs/bio_marinelli.pdf (accessed February 24,
2012), 7.
146
See Hadamowsky’s introduction for the history of this conflict. Hadamowsky, 7-85.
147
Another children’s opera of his, called Das Mayfest, had its premiere on May 11,
1791.
148
Rommel writes extensively about how the Baroque tradition of magic on the stage
changes and how supernatural creatures are humanized and ultimately, by the beginning
of the nineteenth century, “Viennized” (verwienert). See his introduction in Das
parodistische Zauberspiel (Leipzig: Phillipp Reclam jun., 1937), 5-24.

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Leopoldstadt (see Chapter 4). Such pieces are almost exclusively serious in tone, while
the magical works by the composers and poets of the suburban theaters are all comic.

Perinet as Orion

Joachim Perinet worked as a librettist and actor at both of Schikaneder’s theaters
and at the Theater in der Leopoldstadt. He is a good example of a Volksdichter, a folk
poet, or at least of someone who wrote in a “lowlier” style that was loved by Viennese
audiences but generally reviled by critics. With an eye to posterity, Perinet framed his
years at Schikaneder’s theaters with two works in which the main character is Orion; they
serve as a good overview both of his style and of his interactions with the most important
suburban theaters. The first of these works, Orion, oder Der Fürst und sein Hofnarr, was
presented as his debut at the Theater auf der Wieden on January 8, 1798. In the
introduction to the libretto Perinet mentions the long break in his productivity and implies
that a falling out with Marinelli, the director of the Theater in der Leopoldstadt, had
brought him to Schikaneder’s theater.
149
The introduction is a simple vehicle of self-
promotion for Perinet, and in it he relates how honored he is by the four encores he
received from the audience and how true tears from his make-up-free heart rolled over his
made-up cheek.
Perinet himself played the part of Orion, who, as mentioned in the introduction

149
For more biographical information on Perinet, see Jennyfer Großauer-Zöbinger,
“Biographie: Joachim Perinet (1763-1816),” in “Mäzene des Kasperls Johann Josef La
Roche,” University of Graz, 2008-09, http://lithes.uni-graz.at/maezene-
pdfs/bio_perinet.pdf (accessed March, 10, 2012); Also see Gustav Gugitz, “Joachim
Perinet,” in Jahrbuch der Grillparzer-Gesellschaft 14, ed. Karl Glossy (Vienna:
Konegen, 1904), 170-223.

121

and throughout the piece, swims from one to another shore of a river to begin his life in a
new land. The specific shores he means are those of the canal of the Danube that one
must cross in order to arrive at or leave Leopoldstadt, Vienna’s second district, which is
located on an island between the Danube and the Danube canal. Swimming is of great
importance in the original Orion legend: Apollo sees Orion swimming in the distance
and, since he does not approve of his sister Artemis’s love for Orion, he challenges her to
try to hit the distant black speck with an arrow. Artemis, being a skilled markswoman,
hits the target and inadvertently kills her lover.
150

In Perinet’s piece, Orion is a jester, who has been called upon to cheer up a
mourning monarch. Perinet probably meant him to come across as a Papageno figure
because he is dressed in green from head to toe and because he sings an entrance aria
similar to Papageno’s, one of only a few musical numbers in the piece. The music was
composed by Ignaz von Seyfried, and since the piece was written for the Theater auf der
Wieden, which profited so much from the popularity of Die Zauberflöte, an allusion to
Papageno is not an implausible one. Schikaneder continued his tradition of singing comic
entrance arias after Die Zauberflöte, so perhaps only the green costume was a direct
influence from the Mozart opera. The main purpose of the aria is for Perinet to introduce
himself (rather than the character of Orion) to the audience as a new member of the
troupe and to beg for their favor. Both the aria and the introductory poem function like
prologues did in earlier operas and plays, since, to varying degrees, Orion steps out of his
character and communicates with the audience as Perinet.

150
Joseph Eddy Fontenrose, Orion: The Myth of the Hunter and the Huntress (Berkeley:
University of California Press, 1981), 15.

122

Orion’s Entrance Aria in Orion, oder Der Fürst und sein Hofnarr.
Erzeugt hat mich des Wassers Strand,
Wo mich der Sturm vertrieben,
Ich siedle mich an dieses Land,
Wenn mich die Menschen lieben.
Der Sturmwind trieb mich her und hin,
Mein Herz hat manche Narbe –
Doch kleid ich fröhlich mich ganz Grün,
Es ist der Hoffnung Farbe.

Mit Brettern ist die Welt ja nicht,
Hoff ich zu Gott, verschlagen:
Und thu ich hierorts meine Pflicht,
Wird man mich auch ertragen.
Aufs erstemal kommts freylich an,
Wie man sich präsentiret,
Und daß man sich bey Jedermann
Gar schön rekommandiret.

Drum nahm ich meinen Narrenhut,
Und meine kleine Laute.
Da ich voll Trost, und voll von Muth
Auf Ihre Großmuth baute.
Getrost nahm ich den Wanderstab,
Betrat die neuen Pfade:
Mein Glück hängt nur von Ihnen ab,
Von Nachsicht und von Gnade.
Conceived at the water’s shore,
where the storm displaced me,
I shall settle in this Land,
if the people love me.
The gale drove me to and fro,
my heart has many a scar –
yet merrily, I dress myself all in green,
it is the color of hope.

The world is not, I hope to God,
boarded up with planks:
And if I do my duty here,
then I will be tolerated.
At first, to be sure, it depends on
how one presents oneself,
and on whether one recommends oneself
attractively to Everyman.

Therefore I took my jester’s cap
and my little lute.
Since I, full of solace and full of courage
relied upon your generosity.
Confidently I took the walking stick,
and stepped onto new paths:
My fortune depends on you alone,
on leniency and mercy.

A few other aspects of the piece are also worth noting because of their
implications for censorship rules that were becoming increasingly strict and starting to be
applied more assiduously to the suburban theaters. By December of 1803, a new set of
clear rules had been put into effect for the suburban theaters, and specific commissioners,
whose job exclusively involved overseeing these theaters, had been appointed.
151
Orion,
oder Der Fürst und sein Hofnarr contains numerous features that would not have
considered acceptable under these new requirements. For example, Orion’s relationship

151
Glossy, Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens, 59-64.

123

with Prince Astolph is rather casual and he has no problem criticizing his ruler.
152
Orion’s
philosophy is that a monarch should bear witness to his subjects’ woes firsthand, so he
introduces the surprised prince to several poor people, all of whom are in a bad state due
to their monarch’s negligence and their abuse by his troops. Rules against presenting such
overly casual interactions between the classes certainly already existed, but their
enforcement at suburban theaters may have been infrequent. One way in which the piece
seems to attempt to get around the problem is that Orion is a jester, which presumably
allows him more freedom to say offensive or provocative things. In fact, in one scene, as
an old warrior explains that his unfortunate circumstances are the prince’s fault, Orion
places his jester’s hat on the peasant’s head as he tells the story, essentially making the
accusation more acceptable. Another feature of the piece that would not have passed the
censor under the new rules from 1803 is that the villains are all counts and countesses
who are trying to manipulate the king. The ninth of fifteen points making up the list of
instructions provided to the theater commissioners mentioned above warns against their
allowing anything onto the stage that shows the nobility (or the military) in a poor light,
thus presenting an inaccurate and dangerous picture of the relationship between regent
and subject.
153

In many ways, the piece represents a mixture of earlier, more critical and
enlightened (Josephinian) thinking and the far more conservative Biedermeier outlook.
For example, there is a scene in which the villains are frightened by a ghost and only the
(enlightened) prince is able to point out that such creatures do not exist and that it is

152
Ariosto’s Orlando furioso includes a character named Astolfo, an English duke who
learns how to use magic.
153
Glossy, Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens, 61.

124

simply a disguise. Representing a later attitude, a poor woman whose plight is Prince
Astolph’s fault calls him the father of the country after he gives her money—
Francis II (I) liked casting himself in a paternal light, and a great deal of printed material
(including newspapers and pamphlets) from his reign presents him as a benevolent father.
A reference to supporting local artists rather than importing foreign ones also resonates
with Biedermeier patriotism, while a mention of the Polizeyobrigkeit, or police authority,
would never have been allowed in a theatrical performance after 1803.
Upon his return to the Theater in der Leopoldstadt in 1803, Perinet presented a
second Orion piece, called Orions Rückkehr zur friedlichen Insel. The genre is quite
different this time, and the piece is labeled “Ein Gelegenheitsstück in einem Aufzuge in
Knittelreimen mit Gesang” (an occasional piece in one act, in doggerel with singing). The
music is by Wenzel Müller, and the piece is dedicated to Schikaneder, with a date of
November 8, 1803, two days after the premiere. The introductory dedication is written as
a poem, extolling Schikaneder and Perinet’s friendship and again casting Perinet in the
role of Orion. The cast of characters features an assortment of some of the most famous
figures from various pieces in the repertory of the Theater in der Leopoldstadt, and the
printed libretto also lists the performers who popularized these roles: for example, Kaspar
der Fagottist was played by Johann Laroche, and Hulda, “das Donauweibchen,” was
played by Anna Gottlieb, the first Pamina; the role of Orion, further described as “Fürst
Astolphs ehemaliger Hofnarr” (Prince Astolph’s former court jester), was of course
played by Perinet. Local references abound in the piece, from the Prater and the Augarten
(the large parks inside the city that are still popular destinations for Viennese people
today) to a specific tavern, “zu den sieben Churfürsten” (to the seven Electors), in the

125

district of Leopoldstadt. A few words of dialect are also spoken, for instance, some that
include the traditional Viennese diminutive “l” as an ending, so the word for “pipe,” for
example, appears as “Pfeiferl,” rather than “Pfeife”
Unlike Orion, oder Der Fürst und sein Hofnarr, which is not a bad piece when
considered within the context of Perinet’s oeuvre, Orions Rückkehr zur friedlichen Insel
does not have a plot and simply serves as a metaphor (and self-aggrandizing vehicle) for
Perinet’s return to the Theater in der Leopoldstadt. Although there are supernatural
characters such as nymphs, naiads, satyrs and genies, they may as well have been mortal
because they do not appear to have any special powers, and so the piece does not contain
much in the way of magic. Its most interesting aspect consists of its continual references
to specific theater personnel and to the various features of the two theaters. As he
accompanies himself by playing the guitar, Orion sings his opening song, this time in the
form of a Romanze with alternating eight- and six-syllable lines, about how the Theater in
der Leopoldstadt is his true home and how he returns to it even if it is somewhat shabbier
than the Theater an der Wien. Although the theaters are not referred to directly, but rather
alluded to as one or the other shores of the Danube, with the Theater in der Leopoldstadt
being an island, the audience is nevertheless always mentioned and pandered to for its
approval.
Orion’s Entrance Aria in Orions Rückkehr zur friedlichen Insel.

Zurück kehr ich ins Vaterland,
Das ich mit Schmerz verließ,
Als ich von diesem Donaustrand,
An’s andre Ufer stieß.
Ein edler Freund nahm dort mich auf,
Und heilte meinen Schmerz,
Doch nach sechs Jahr vollbrachtem Lauf,
Zog mich hieher mein Herz.

I return to my fatherland,
which it pained me to leave.
When I from this Danube strand
landed on the other shore,
a noble friend received me there
and healed my pain.
Yet after six years’ completed course,
my heart pulled me here.

126

Die Insel ist zwar nicht so groß
Und nicht so groß die Pracht;
Doch halt ichs für der Mutter-Schooß,
Der mich zur Welt gebracht.
Ich finde wohl hier um und um,
So manchen alten Freund,
Und schmeichle mir, das Publikum
Ist mir auch noch nicht feind.

Der neue Direkteur ist mir
Als alter Freund geneigt,
Vor Ihnen aber steh ich hier
Voll Ehrfurcht tief gebeugt —
Ich wandre gern — doch fehlt mir was —

Mir fehlet nun Ihr Schutz —
Ihr Beyfall ist mein bester Paß
Dann bieth ich Feinden Trutz.

The island may not be so large
and not so great its splendor,
Yet I consider it the mother’s womb
that brought me to the world.
Time and again, I may well find
many an old friend,
And flatter myself, that the public too,
is also not yet inimical.

The new director, as my old friend,
is well disposed toward me,
in front of you, however, I stand
full of awe, bowing in deep reverence —
I like to wander — yet I miss something —

What I lack now is your protection —
your applause is my best currency
with which to defy my enemies.

The most villainous character is a satyr, whose main role is to make fun of everybody and
to discourage Orion from coming to the Theater in der Leopoldstadt. Part of his role is
also to set himself up as a straw man and dare to make fun of Hensler, the new director,
which he does by addressing Hensler’s most famous character, Hulda or “das
Donauweibchen” (the nymph of the Danube) and questioning her ability to run a theater.
Hulda berates the satyr and defends herself by ending her lines with a play on words that
simultaneously indicates that her actions are what God would have liked (Gottlieb), as
well as the name of the singer who plays Hulda, Anna Gottlieb.
Scene 8: Dialogue between a satyr and Hulda, the nymph of the Danube.

Satyr:
Aber Donauweibchen, Donauweibchen!
entre nous,
Gebt ihr denn noch nicht bald Ruh?
Und Ihr! Ihr der Donau alma mater!

Unternehmt jetzt gar ein neues Theater?
But Danube nymph, Danube nymph!
entre nous,
why do you still not calm down?
And you! You the Danube’s alma mater!

Even venturing to run a new theater?

127

Gebt Acht, gebt Acht, daß es nicht fallirt;

Und so wie euer Reich zu Wasser wird.

Watch out, beware that it doesn’t go
bankrupt;
and turn to water like your realm.
Hulda:
Ich bin nur als der Insel Nixe betrachtet,
Aber ein Freund von mir hat es gepachtet.
Für ihn, nicht für mich, erwart ich Orion,
Also Herr Naseweiß, ändre deinen Ton.
Pfui dir! — Du solltest dich wahrlich
schämen,
Alles von der unrechten Seite zu nehmen.

Entweich also, schändlicher Ehrendieb!
Was ich that, war billig; was recht ist, ist
Gottlieb
I am regarded only as nymph of the island,
but a friend of mine has leased it.
For him, not for myself, I await Orion,
so Mr. Smart Aleck, change your tone.
Fie upon you! — You should truly be
ashamed of yourself
for viewing everything from the wrong
perspective.
So disappear, disgraceful slanderer!
What I did was just; what is right, is dear to
God.

In another reference to theater personnel, a character named Rosaura tells Orion that she
can be trusted (“Mir Traut man”). The incorrect capitalization of the verb “Traut” was
intentional, because the actress playing the role was Wenzel Müller’s second wife, and
her maiden name was Trautmann. Later on, she asks Orion whether he’s still writing for
the opera and says that she could recommend him at the Theater in der Leopoldstadt
because she knows the Kapellmeister (Wenzel Müller) very well.
Scene 15: Rosaura speaking to Orion.

Rosaura:
Schreibst du auch noch für die Opera?
Gut: die Nixe an der Donau-Quelle

Hat ihre eigene Hofkapelle.
Dahin rekommandir ich dich vor der Hand,
Ich bin mit dem Kapellmeister gut bekannt.
Do you still write for the opera?
Well, the nymph at the source of the
Danube
has her own court orchestra.
I recommend you go there right away,
I am well acquainted with the conductor.

128

Hensler is represented by the character of an old man named Hohenstauffen,
which was a beloved part in Hensler and Müller’s play Der Alte Überall und Nirgends.
154

Hohenstauffen/Hensler warns Orion that if he prefers riches, splendor, and horses,
155
he
should not return to their little, peaceful village, where he may have to drink apple juice
instead of champagne. As Orion resumes his indecisive wavering (particularly in a scene
that is a parody of Hamlet’s “To be or not to be” soliloquy) about whether or not to join
the Theater in der Leopoldstadt, Hohenstauffen, like Shakespeare’s Polonius, gives him
variously useful and pompous advice, including on how to write for the Theater in der
Leopoldstadt. The satyr tries to convince Orion that Hohenstauffen cannot be trusted and
that a fellow poet’s jealousy will only destroy him.
Scene 8: The satyr warns Orion about other poets.

Satyr:
Nimm dich in Acht, ami! sie [Hulda] zieht
dich in den Grund,
Und wenn du unten bist, mußt kuschen wie
ein Hund.
O Freund! nur dieß thu’ nicht. Der
Interims-Regent
Ist selbst ein Dichter dort, der
Schauspielkniffe kennt;
Er lockt dich nur, mein Freund, durch
Hulda itzt hinab,
Und wenn du unten bist, so findest du dein
Grab.
Er wird aus Dichterneid dich jubelnd
unterdrücken,
Und mit Protest vielleicht dich wieder
jenseits schicken.
Glaub mir’s, mein Orion! und sey auf
Be careful, ami! She [Hulda] will drag you
down,
and when you are below, you’ll have to
submit like a dog.
Oh friend! By no means do this. The
interim regent
is himself a poet there, who knows
the ruses of the theater;
through Hulda, he is now just luring you
below my friend,
and when you are down there, you will find
your grave.
He will out of poet’s envy jubilantly
repress you,
and under protest perhaps send you back
yonder.
Believe me, dear Orion! and be on your

154
The problem of classifying the genres in this repertory is evident again here. The piece
Der Alte Überall und Nirgends is classified as a “Schauspiel,” implying that there is no
music in it, yet it contains songs, choruses and duets.
155
One of the special features of the stage at the Theater an der Wien was that it was
large enough to easily accommodate several horses.

129

deiner Hut —
Zwey Leyer thun gar rar in einem
Wirthshaus gut.
guard —
two lyres rarely benefit a tavern.

By vehemently rejecting the notion that Hensler would try to crush any fellow poet
working at the same theater, and by insulting the satyr, Perinet is able to show deference
to Hensler and simultaneously allude to some concerns he may have had about joining his
company. But the satyr persists and tells Orion how silly it was to leave the Theater an
der Wien, not only because of its splendor but also its dignity and taste.
Scene 11: The satyr speaking to Orion

Satyr:
Bedenk einmal, was du für dummes Zeugs
gemacht? (sic)
Du hast verlassen Reichthum und Pracht.
Hast verlassen Kunst, Würde und
Geschmack,
Und steckst dich hier in den Wassersack!
Think for a moment, what stupid things
you did.
You have foresaken wealth and splendor.
You have abandoned art, dignity and taste,

and have placed yourself in this bog!
156

Orion takes this opportunity to point out that he bears no grudges against Schikaneder
and his company and that he wishes them all the best in their future undertakings—
leaving them would be a purely personal decision based on what makes him happy.
Hohenstauffen remarks that he cannot make the decision for Orion (“ich sage nicht ja,
und sage nicht nein”), and the satyr, noting the old man’s waffling, comments that
Hohenstauffen was probably a politician. Such a statement was still able to pass the
censor in a suburban theater in 1803, but it and other types of lines, for example violent
references toward the end of the piece about how Furies would disembowel Orion and
play with his entrails if he did not also write serious pieces (perhaps indicating Perinet’s

156
The Wassersack (water sack) clearly refers to the Danube, which at the time would
have been quite marshy in Vienna and downstream of it.

130

desire to do so), are precisely the kinds of feature that the rules for the suburban theaters,
which would go into effect in December of 1803, aimed to eradicate.
As an acknowledgement of the Theater an der Wien’s most famous piece, Hulda
sings an aria (in scene 17) to the melody of Monastatos’s “Alles fühlt der Liebe Freuden”
(“All Feel the Joys of Love”). The title is “Alles fühlt der Eintracht Freuden” (“All Feel
the Joys of Concord”), and its subject mainly concerns the induction of Perinet/Orion into
the friendly group of people who work at the Theater in der Leopoldstadt. The choice of
this famous melody from Die Zauberflöte is an odd one if the goal was to suggest that the
Theater in der Leopoldstadt was a better career option for Perinet, and one wonders
whether Schikaneder and his troupe would really have appreciated the gesture.

Missing Magic and Technology as Magic in the two parodies of Die
Zauberflöte

A manuscript of Perinet’s parody, Die Zauberflöte travestirt in Knittelversen, from 1803
is the only existing primary source, and it was not published until the twentieth century,
when Fritz Brukner included it in his volume of ephemera related to Mozart’s opera.
157

Branscombe notes that the parody was probably intended for performance in the Theater
an der Wien, among other reasons, because it quotes contemporary works that were
performed there and because the libretto calls for horses, which would only have been
possible in Vienna’s largest suburban theater.
158
Perinet returned to the Theater in der

157
A-Wst, H.I.N.-156961. Fritz Brukner, ed., Die Zauberflöte. Unbekannte
Handschriften und seltene Drucke aus der Frühzeit von Mozarts Oper (Vienna: Gilhofer
& Ranschburg, 1934), 146-203.
158
Branscombe, 291-93.

131

Leopoldstadt in 1803 after five years of working at Schikaneder’s theater. He presumably
presented his parody to the new director, Karl Friedrich Hensler, but it is unclear why it
was never performed. It would have been a good year for a parody, since the Theater an
der Wien and even the Kärntnertortheater presented several performances of Die
Zauberflöte in 1803.
159
Only one new, possibly magical work was performed at the
Theater an der Wien that year. It was called Typhon, and I have not seen its text, but the
review of the piece in the Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung indicates that it has a fable-
like story similar to that of Die Zauberflöte.
160
Older works performed at the Theater an
der Wien in 1803 included Schikaneder’s Der Spiegel von Arkadien with music by
Süssmeyer, Der Teufel in Wien, Der wohltätige Derwisch, and one of the sequels to Die
Zauberflöte: Das Labyrinth.
Other than Hensler and Kauer’s Die Nymphe der Donau, which Müller calls Die
Donaunixe in his Spielplan, and Orions Rückkehr zur friedlichen Insel, no new magical
operas were performed at the Theater in der Leopoldstadt in 1803. Just like the Theater
auf der Wieden in 1791, it was undergoing a change in directorship from Marinelli, who
died in January of 1803, to Hensler. Under Hensler, audiences would see more magical
operas at the Theater an der Leopoldstadt than ever, but 1803 was clearly not their
heyday, either there or at the Theater an der Wien. In fact, in his parody, Perinet seems to

159
For Branscombe, the main purpose of parodies was to garner some of the attention
received by the original work. “For at this period it is as an attempt to attract to
themselves something of the popularity of the masterpiece that parodies and travesties are
principally to be regarded . . . they were not intended to attack the original.” Branscombe,
288.
160
The review of this piece in the Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung states that the story is
similar to that of Die Zauberflöte. Not having seen the text, I cannot be sure whether or
not it has magical features; it is described as a “heroisch-komische Oper,” which may
suggest supernatural elements. Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung 5 (March 30, 1803),
457-58.

132

make an effort to avoid magic altogether. For example, the Queen of the Night, although
she is still royal, is clearly a mortal woman (something that is ambiguous in Die
Zauberflöte) and is not allowed any prominent entrances or exits. The instruments given
to Tamino and Papageno are supposed to protect them, but the flute only serves Tamino
in that he earns money by playing it so that he can pay his bar tab, and Papageno
complains that his instrument (in this case a triangle and not a Glockenspiel) cannot
protect him from his own misery.
Meisl’s parody, from 1818, was written during a time when magical operas were
at the height of their popularity in Vienna. As Hadamowsky shows, the years from 1817
to the early 1820s were particularly successful for the theater, in large part due to the
various magical pieces that were performed.
161
During these years, there were many more
premieres and also restagings of slightly older magical pieces—there is no comparison
with either 1791 or 1803 in terms of sheer numbers of such pieces.
162
This was the most
productive period for the triumvirate of poets Bäuerle, Gleich and Meisl, just before
Raimund surpassed them all in fame and quality. The Theater an der Wien had not
jumped on this magical opera bandwagon yet, as it was enjoying the success of a
melodrama called Abraham, with music by Ignaz von Seyfried. But the personnel there
probably became aware of the success of their rivals at the Theater in the Leopoldstadt
and they began the 1818 season with repeated performances of older magical pieces like
Aschenbrödel and Zémire und Azor. In response to the latter piece, the Theater in der

161
Hadamowsky, 62.
162
A look at the catalogs of either the Theater an der Wien or the Theater in der
Leopoldstadt will confirm what Hadamowsky already shows. Also see Rommel, Die Alt-
Wiener Volkskomödie, 761.

133

Leopoldstadt ushered in the greatest period of popularity for parodies based on magical
works, beginning with Der verwunschene Prinz, which is a parody of Zémire und Azor.
Meisl’s parody then was just one of several, but the handling of magic in the piece
was quite different from that in Perinet’s parody. It seems clear, from reading both the
manuscript and printed versions of both pieces, that Meisl poached much of Perinet’s
work, keeping the same basic structure and many of the aria texts.
163
The magical
moments in the piece are mainly related to technologies or inventions that were
undoubtedly in vogue in Vienna at the time, however these items are capable of either far
more or far less than in reality. For example, a kaleidoscope or telescope (the terms are
used interchangeably) is used by the Queen of the Night to spy on Pamina.
164
By looking
through it, Tamino is able to see how she is faring with Sarastro and Monostatos. The
stage directions call for tableaux of the various scenes Tamino observes. On the one
hand, Tamino refers to this instrument as a well-designed invention over which
Nurembergers will fight Parisians,
165
but on the other hand he is able to see scenes
occurring in a different location and possibly even in a different time—it is both realistic
and magical. Far less useful are the Draisinen (an early bicycle without pedals)
166
that

163
A-Wst, H.I.N.-156529 and A-Wn 621833 B.
164
There have been a couple of recent investigations of the uses of optical instruments in
music and opera. See Francesca Brittan, “Fairy Magic, Natural Science and the Scherzo
fantastique,” Journal of the American Musicological Society, 64, no 3 (Fall 2011): 527-
600; and Deirdre Loughridge, “Haydn’s Creation as an Optical Entertainment,” The
Journal of Musicology, 27, No. 1 (Winter 2010), 9-54.
165
Both cities were major centers for building optical instruments, although those from
Paris were viewed more as “salon pieces” rather then serious scientific instruments.
166
An illustration by Leopold Kupelwieser from 1818 featuring both a kaleidoscope and
a Draisine (one man looks through a kaleidoscope rather than watching where he is going
and the other runs into him while riding a Draisine) further confirms that these two
inventions were on the minds of people during the year of Meisl’s parody. See Rita
Steblin, Die Unsinnsgesellschaft: Franz Schubert, Leopold Kupelwieser und ihr

134

Sarastro and his entourage use for transportation around Vienna. The consensus of all
except for those that use them is presented in the Papageno character’s aria, which begins
“Erfinderisch ist unsre Zeit,” “our times are inventive.” The point of the aria is to muse
first over how these vehicles can move without horses and second to point out that the
best way to use them is either to carry them or to harness the horse behind them, just in
case it is needed. While the Draisinen are not magical like the kaleidoscope, the way they
are treated nevertheless represents a conservative and dismissive attitude toward
inventions that are perhaps not particularly easy to understand. The best way to deal with
them is to make fun of them and to point out their shortcomings—they might as well be
magical.

Censorship in the Parodies

That Perinet’s parody was intended for publication is clear from the title page, which
reads “Wien. Gedruckt bey Andreas Schmidt. 1803.” The final page bears theater censor
Franz Karl Hägelin’s signature, a statement that he has corrected the work for printing,
and a date of June 21, 1803. Hägelin corrected only very few places in the manuscript: a
reference to horns on a man (implying a cuckold), for example, would not normally have
made it past his pen—indeed he caught it the first time it occurs but not the second.
167

Freundeskreis (Vienna: Böhlau, 1998), 335. Steblin also cites further literature that
ridicules the Draisine, 24-25.
167
Das Glück ist kugelrund, oder Kaspars Ehrentag from 1789, which I discuss above, is
a good example of a piece for the suburban theaters that contains objectionable material
of this sort. The characters Kasperl and the Pascha grow horns at some point, the latter
because his wives all have lovers whom they prefer to him. Since Hägelin was
responsible for censoring works for all of the theaters, the sheer volume of pieces may

135

One interesting correction is that he transformed a sentence about marital sins that occur
in Vienna into a more general one about marital sins that happen here. Local references
and humor are not a problem as long as they do not reflect negatively on the city or its
inhabitants. He also chose to change the reference to “marital bed” into “marital yoke”—
Hägelin was always particularly squeamish about any implied sexuality. 1803 was the
penultimate year of his career, and old age as well as the many problems he was having
with those holding positions of authority over him may explain Hägelin’s cursory work.
The manuscript of Meisl’s parody is heavily marked in a style and ink color very
similar to those of a censor. Hägelin was long dead by 1818, and not just one but many
censors replaced him, yet there is no censor’s signature anywhere on the manuscript, so it
is more likely that this copy belonged to a member of the theater personnel, perhaps a
prompter. In any case, the manuscript is significantly different from the printed libretto,
and it includes many passages, among them several musical numbers that were excluded
from publication. The numerous crossed-out passages may reflect both a form of self-
censorship (undertaken before the manuscript was submitted to an actual censor) and
simple editing. An example of the former regards Papageno’s triangle, which makes him,
or anyone who holds it, invisible. His comment on this magical object is to muse upon
what every married man who had such a triangle as well as a “master key” would do. The
words “master key” are crossed out in what would appear to be a clear case of self-
censorship: the idea of an unmarried man with unlimited access to the homes and

have prevented him from spending equal time on the ones destined for the suburban
theaters. By the time Francis II (I). came to power in 1792, it became more important to
control what happened at public gatherings, including the theater; censorship rules
became increasingly strict, and more new laws that were specifically intended to regulate
productions at the suburban theaters were passed.

136

bedrooms of Viennese women would certainly not have been presentable on stage. By
contrast, in what was most likely an editorial decision, Papageno’s lines and musical
numbers were significantly reduced and are presented as such in the printed libretto. His
part, played by the talented Raimund, would otherwise have been much longer than all of
the others. Wenzel Müller’s handwriting, in his favorite bright pink ink, can be seen on
and near the musical texts of the manuscript, showing, for example, how he plans to
handle musical numbers for which the text has been crossed out—by playing a number
without the text, by eliminating one altogether, or by adding dancers or a pantomime.

Text and Music

Perinet’s parody was written with Mozart’s music in mind,
168
and even though the plot
diverges greatly from that of the original opera, Perinet finds room at least for most of the
solo pieces. By contrast, Meisl’s parody uses very little of Mozart’s music because
Müller wrote a new score, but there are still some references to Mozart in the libretto, and
the aria and ensemble texts are largely taken from Perinet. In Tamino’s entrance aria,
parts of lines need to be repeated in order to fit with Mozart’s music (Example 3.1). The
first two excerpts show the text of the first verse as it appears in Perinet’s and in Meisl’s
versions, and Examples 3.1 and 3.2 respectively show a musical excerpt from Mozart and

168
The only exception takes place in the second-act finale, in which music from works
called Palmira, Königstochter von Persien (an adaptation of de Gamerra and Salieri’s
Palmira regina di Persia) and Graf Armand (probably an adaptation of Cherubini’s Les
Deux Journées) is used. Branscombe sees this as evidence that the parody was originally
intended for performance at the Theater an der Wien because the two pieces belonged to
the repertory of that theater. Branscombe, 292.

137

Schikaneder’s original and then the same excerpt, but this time from the parodies, with
the necessary word repetition.
Perinet, 1803

Zu Hülfe! Zu Hülfe, Sonst bin ich
verlohren
Erwischt mich der häßliche Bär bei den
Ohren
So zauset er mir mein gepudertes Haar,

Und frißt mich endlich gar.

Oh help me, oh help me, or else I am
foresaken,
If the ugly bear grabs me by the ears,

He’ll worry my powdered hair and

eventually even devour me.

Meisl, 1818

Zu Hülfe! Zu Hülfe, Sonst bin ich
verlohren
Erwischt mich der häßliche Bär bei den
Ohren
So zaust er mich tüchtig – ich fürchte
sogar
Er kampelt mich sauber – frisirt mir das
Haar.

Oh help me, oh help me, or else I am
foresaken,
If the ugly bear grabs me by the ears,

He’ll tousle me thoroughly – I’m even
afraid
He’ll comb me completely – and style
my hair.

Example 3.1: Mozart/Schikaneder, Die Zauberflöte, “Zu Hilfe, zu Hilfe, sonst bin ich
verloren.”

Zu Hil fe - zu Hil fe! - sonst bin ich ver lo - ren, - zu Hil fe! - zu Hil fe! - sonst
bin ich ver lo - ren, - der lis ti - gen - Schlan ge - zum
6
Op fer - er ko - ren, - barm her - zi - ge - Göt ter! -
9
c
&
‹
b
b
b
&
‹
b
b
b
&
‹
b
b
b
Ó Œ ‰
™ œ
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j œ
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Ó

138

Example 3.2: Mozart/Perinet, Die Zauberflöte travestirt, “Zu Hilfe, zu Hilfe, sonst bin
ich verloren.”

In Perinet’s parody, Papageno’s entrance aria introduces him by name but
emphasizes that he prefers to go by the name Wastel, the common nickname for
Sebastian. This may be a reference to Schikaneder’s character in his successful comic
opera Der Tyroler Wastel from 1796.
169
Meisl dispenses with the name Papageno
altogether. The text to this aria, unlike many of the other texts, is completely different
between the two parodies. Both sets of texts fit Mozart’s melody easily, and it is unclear
whether Müller, who numbers all the musical sections in the manuscript of Meisl’s
parody, actually wrote new music for this or not.
Perinet, 1803.
Ich heisse Papageno zwar,
Doch bin ich schon manch liebes Jahr
Bei Alt und Jung im ganzen Land
Als Steffens Wastel wohl bekannt
Vom Vogelfangen nähr ich mich;
Es geht mir freylich kümmerlich,
Doch kann es schon nicht anders seyn,
Drum find ich mich geduldig drein.
I may be named Papageno,
But for many a year,
With old and young in the whole land,
I have been known as Steffens Wastel.
I sustain my self by catching birds;
Admittedly, I am wretched,
But it cannot be any other way,
And so I patiently got used to it

169
David Buch, personal communication, April 14, 2012.
6
9
&
b
b
b
Zu Hil fe - zu Hil fe! - sonst bin ich ver lo - ren, - zu Hil fe! - zu Hil fe! - sonst
&
b
b
b
bin ich ver lo - ren, - Er wischt mich der häß lich - e -
&
b
b
b
Bär bei den Oh ren, - der Bär bei den Oh ren! -
Ó Œ ‰
™ œ
R
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139

Meisl, 1818.
Der lust’ge Wastel bin ich ja –
Stets lustig, heissa, hopsasa,
Ich bin bey Alt und Jung im Land,
Als lust’ger Wastel wohl bekannt –
Vom Vogelfangen nähr ich mich;
Doch wär ich reicher sicherlich –
Dürft ich ganz heimlich in der Still
Die Madeln fangen, die ich will.
Merry Wastel am I,
Always merry, heissa hopsasa,
I am well-known by old and young in the
land as merry Wastel.
I sustain myself by catching birds;
Yet I would surely be richer –
If I were allowed to very secretly in the still
Catch the girls that I want.

Clearly, both texts use elements of Schikaneder’s original. Meisl copies Perinet in
referring to Wastel, but refers back to Schikaneder on his own in equating catching birds
with catching girls—Perinet avoids this aspect completely. The last strophe in Meisl’s
text is quite different in the manuscript and the printed versions, and the latter simply
leaves out several lines, avoiding them by having Tamino interrupt the song. Branscombe
attributes this to Raimund’s “infamously” weak voice,
170
but judging by the content of
the omitted text (it is crossed out in dark ink in the manuscript libretto), I am more
inclined to think of this as an instance of self-censorship. The next excerpt shows the text
from the printed libretto, and the substitute line that replaces the omitted text is shown in
italics. Following that, I show the same strophe as it appears in Meisl’s manuscript
libretto with the omitted text in boldface.
Last strophe of Papageno’s aria in the printed libretto of Meisl’s parody
Da fing ich manche Blonde heut
Und manche Braune mit der Zeit
Die sperrte ich ins Vogelhaus –
Und keine käme mehr heraus!
Then I would catch many a blonde today,
And many a brunette with time,
I would lock them in the bird house,
And none would ever come out!

Last strophe of Papageno’s aria from Meisl’s manuscript libretto
Da fing ich manche Blonde heut,
Und manche Braune mit der Zeit –
Then I would catch many a blonde today,
And many a brunette with time –

170
Branscombe, 304.

140

Die sperrte ich ins Vogelhaus,
Und rüste zum Verkauf sie aus.
da fänden sich viel Käufer ein –
Wohl Alt und Jung und groß und klein!
Die böthen schrecklich Geld mir an,
Und ich, ich wär ein reicher Mann!

I would lock them in the bird house,
And prepare them for sale.
Many buyers would arrive –
Likely old and young and large and
small!
They would offer me money like crazy,
And I, I would be a wealthy man!

References to prostitution would certainly not have been acceptable to a censor, so it
behooved the editor, who was perhaps the prompter or even the director himself, to
remove these lines. What was actually performed remains a mystery; Branscombe is
convinced that printed librettos rather than manuscripts were reliable reproductions of
what happened on stage,
171
and while this may have been the case for eighteenth-century
works, when it came to censorship, and what was actually submitted to the censor, things
changed beginning in 1803, the year of Perinet’s parody.
172
According to a set of
censorship guidelines from May 2 of that year, it is clear that even if a printed libretto
existed already—for example, of an older piece that was being performed again, theater
personnel preferred to deal with manuscripts because it was easier to make changes to
them.
173

171
Ibid., 306.
172
There are some printed librettos from the 1780s that may have been intended for the
censor, for example of Mozart’s Don Giovanni; I have not seen these yet.
173
“For a while, indeed for quite some time, pieces were, even when they also appeared
in printed form, mainly submitted [to the censors] in manuscript form, because this was
presumably more comfortable for the prompter or because the producers occasionally
saw fit to change something or other. “Seit einiger Zeit, und zwar seit geraumer, werden
die Stücke, wenn sie auch sonst gedruckt erschienen, meistens in Handschriften
vorgelegt, weil sie vermutlich für den Souffleur bequemer, oder weil die Unternehmung
hin und wieder etwas zu ändern befunden haben mag.” Glossy, Zur Geschichte der
Theater Wiens, 44.

141

Milieuherabsetzung

Rather than functioning as a means of attracting some of the attention received by the
original work, as Branscombe sees it, I agree with Otto Rommel, that the main purpose of
these parodies was to lower the status, particularly of high-class characters, as a way of
making fun of them.
174
Papageno’s silliness and naïveté are exaggerated here, but just
like Shakespeare’s fools, he possesses a degree of wisdom. Yet it is not intended as
universal wisdom and can be better understood as what the audience might have
perceived to be true.
175
Such wisdom is also related to the idea of technology as magic,
which I discussed above. For example, in Papageno’s aria about the Draisinen, he
philosophizes about how silly such innovations are, and one can imagine that many
audience members might have agreed with him. Papageno gives voice to this and other
more conservative opinions that were clearly those of the majority during the
Biedermeier period.
The demeaning of the upper classes is far stronger in Meisl’s parody than in the
one by Perinet, just as local humor is also more prominent in Meisl. So, for example, in
Perinet, the characters retain their original names, although not their original functions in
society, while Meisl names them Herr von Sarastro and Tamino von Tapinsfeld (which
indicates someone who ambles around aimlessly). He saves his worst for the queen by

174
Branscombe, 288; Rommel, Die Alt-Wiener Volkskomödie, 866-67.
175
Rommel warns against interpreting anything that occurs in parodies literally and
claims that foreign scholars are particularly guilty of this. “But nothing would be more
misguided than to take these pieces literally, as cultural documents, as has sometimes
happened with foreign scholars.” “Aber nichts wäre irriger, als diese Stücke als
Kulturdokumente wörtlich zu nehmen, wie es von ortsfremden Forschern gelegentlich
geschehen ist.” Otto Rommel, Das parodistische Zauberspiel, 19.

142

naming her Frau von Putzweg. She is described as a Nachtkönigin, literally a “queen of
the night” but actually meaning a person who cleans toilets, hence the name “Putzweg,”
or “clean away.” This perhaps lends some credence to Jane K. Brown’s notion that the
character of the original Queen of the Night, who “spends the second half of the opera
wandering in the “underground passages” – the sewers and drains? – of Sarastro’s
palace,” might have been conceived with this particular occupation in mind.
176
Sarastro
fares badly in both Perinet’s and Meisl’s versions. Perinet emphasizes that he is
particularly obese—upon his first entrance he is described as “eine ungeheure
Fleischmasse,” “an enormous mass of flesh.” Meisl focuses instead on Sarastro’s love of
food to the exclusion of anything else, and his arias are devoted to describing various
dishes in detail.
177
Both parodies are so infused with what Rommel calls
Milieuherabsetzung or “Milieu-abasement” that jokes about various classes tinged with
local humor can be found on practically every page. In Perinet’s parody, the three ladies
are actually a cook, a parlor maid, and a scullery maid. Meisl keeps these designations
and gives them the names Nannerl, Liserl, and Urschel, which arguably contain an
implicit hierarchy—particularly the last one, which could easily be pronounced
“Arschel,” a slang word for “rear end.” After killing the bear that threatened Tamino with
various kitchen implements appropriate to their professions, the ladies fight over who
will keep its skin. Tamino and the queen use a great deal of French when speaking with

176
Jane K. Brown, The Persistence of Allegory: Drama and Neoclassicism from
Shakespeare to Wagner (Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2007), 197-98.
177
Singing about food seems to have been a popular trend in Viennese singspiels;
examples from the magical repertoire include an aria in the first act of Dämona, das
kleine Höckerweibchen (text by Joseph Bullinger and music by Vincenc Tuček) and a
Lied in the second act of the popular Die Teufelsmühle am Wienerberge (text by Karl
Fridrich Hensler and music by Wenzel Müller).

143

each other, especially when they are attempting to be particularly polite, and in Meisl’s
parody the queen makes obvious efforts (which have the opposite effect, of course) to
distinguish her class from that of her three servants.

Conclusion

In addition to providing a brief survey of some of the magical operas in the years
immediately preceding Die Zauberflöte, I have shown that the lack of local humor in the
piece was not a calculated decision by Schikaneder and Mozart but rather typical for
magic operas of the time. A great deal can be learned about Viennese society of the early
nineteenth century by examining popular parodies in more detail. The few examples I
have provided here do not by any means provide a complete picture; a closer look at what
audiences of the time found funny and at what parodies in general meant to them, as well
as a more thorough study of Milieuherabsetzung (and perhaps even how it could be
expressed musically) would surely also represent fruitful lines of inquiry. By placing Die
Zauberflöte and its two parodies within their respective time periods, and by examining
each parody for its unique features, I have begun addressing some of the issues relevant
to the Viennese cultural products that were presented in its wake.

144

Chapter 4
Supernatural Effects in the Dramaturgy and in the Music of Operas
from the Theater in der Leopoldstadt 1799-1828

That the Viennese, generally speaking, do not care to see serious and sensible things
[performances], have little or no understanding of them, and only want to see foolish
stuff, dances, devils, ghosts, magic, Hanswurst, Lipperl, Bernardorn, witches and
apparitions is well known, and their theaters prove it every day.
Leopold Mozart
178

Zauberoper:
There we stand, and gaze and gaze and gaze aloft
and we are (because you want it this way) all eyes and half ear.
Wiener Theater Zeitung
179

Introduction

In this chapter, I examine the extent to which the supernatural was significant to both the
dramaturgy and the music of Viennese operas. Using works that were popular during
their times to anchor my arguments, I show that the two main poles of contrast in how the
supernatural was handled were Karl Friedrich Hensler and Joseph Eybler’s Das

178
“Daß die Wiener in genere zu reden nicht begierig sind ernsthafte und Vernünftige
sachen zu sehen, auch wenig oder gar keinen Begrief davon haben, und nichts als
närrisches Zeug, tanzen, teufel, gespenster, Zaubereyen, Hannswurst, Lipperl, Bernardon,
Hexen, und Erscheinungen sehen wollen, ist eine bekannte Sache und ihre theater
beweisen es täglich.” Leopold Mozart to Lorenz Hagenauer, January 30, 1768 in Mozart
Briefe und Aufzeichnungen, ed. Wilhelm A. Bauer and Otto Erich Deutsch (Kassel:
Bärenreiter, 1975), 254.

179
TheWiener Theater Zeitung often contains poems or sayings in its pages; “Die
Zauberoper” is the title of one such saying. The German text reads: “Da stehen wir, und
schaun, und schaun und schaun empor, Und sind, weil Ihr’s so wollt, ganz Auge und halb
Ohr.” Wiener Theater Zeitung 2 (July 8, 1806), 29.

145

Zauberschwert and Hensler and Ferdinand Kauer’s Das Donauweibchen (and some of its
sequels) on the one hand, and works such as Adolph Bäuerle and Wenzel Müller’s Aline
oder Wien in einem andern Welttheile on the other. In their librettos, Das Zauberschwert
and Das Donauweibchen represent an older way of handling the supernatural because
they treat it more seriously. Hensler’s approach to magic in the plotlines of these pieces
contrasts vividly with its treatment by other librettists in later works, in which it is
portrayed as either peripheral or silly. Since Hensler was responsible for writing many of
the new pieces for the Theater in der Leopoldstadt, particularly after the departure of
Joachim Perinet in 1798 (see Chapter 3 for more on Perinet), his approach prevailed at
this theater, at least until 1803, when he was named director and was presumably less
able to spend time writing new pieces. Hensler was strongly influenced by German ghost
stories, and adapted many of them for the stage. These stories tended to treat the
supernatural more seriously, whereas the later tradition that emerges in Vienna,
particularly after Hensler steps away from active writing, takes a far more irreverent
approach. The influence of older traditions is also evident in the music of Das
Zauberschwert and Das Donauweibchen because these works show all of the common
musical features traditionally associated with magical scenes: the keys of E-flat major
and D minor, tremolo and sforzando effects, and so-called alla zoppa, syncopated
rhythms.
180

180
See Buch’s chapter on German musical theater for extended discussions of these
musical characteristics. That D minor is a typical key for the supernatural is well known,
but E-flat major in a non-religious, supernatural context is rarely mentioned. As far as I
know, Buch is the main scholar to have written about the importance of this key to
eighteenth- and nineteenth-century composer dealing with supernatural scenes; I have
also seen this to be true in the scores I discuss here.

146

While I discussed magical works produced immediately prior to Die Zauberflöte
in Chapter 3, here I demonstrate that the magical works that came after Die Zauberflöte
were more numerous, yet, especially in the case of later works from the second and third
decades of the nineteenth century, often not very magical at all. They were frequently
designated “Zauberoper,” or “Zauberposse,” but more often than not, their magical
content, both in their plots and their music, was minimal. Following general discussions
of the works mentioned above, in the remaining sections in this chapter I focus on ghost
choruses found in these and other works and on the changing roles of individual ghosts,
considering the relevance of censorship throughout. In general, there seems to be a
difference in the treatment of magic and the supernatural between works of the late
eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries, for example, those by Kauer and Eybler, and
those from the second and third decades of the nineteenth century. We will see that this
difference is less marked in the music and that there was at least one significant trend in
the approach to the supernatural that reached back to precedents from the 1790s.

Joseph Eybler’s Das Zauberschwert

Joseph Eybler enjoyed a significantly more illustrious career than any of the so-called
house composers from the suburban theaters. He associated with Haydn and Mozart and
studied composition with Johann Georg Albrechtsberger, the theorist who also instructed
Beethoven. Eybler served as choir director both at the Karmelitenkirche and at the
Schottenkloster in Vienna and also worked as a music teacher and conductor for Empress

147

Marie Therese.
181
Eybler’s training and the generally more aristocratic circles in which he
moved must be taken into consideration when examining the music of his only opera,
Das Zauberschwert. Karl Friedrich Hensler, one of the house poets of the Theater in der
Leopoldstadt, wrote the libretto, and the work was performed for the first time at that
theater on February 16, 1802, as a benefit for the soprano Anna Gottlieb (see
Chapter
3

for
more
about
her). The theater played nothing but Das Zauberschwert for most of the
rest of February, and according to Müller’s Spielplan, Emperor Francis and Empress
Marie Therese attended the third performance on February 18. Also in attendance that
evening were Francis’s brother, Ferdinand, the Grand Duke of Tuscany, and his wife
Luisa Maria Amelia Teresa, who would die in childbirth later that year.
As far as I know, no one has thus far shown how Eybler came to write for the
Theater in der Leopoldstadt—perhaps he made connections there during his time at the
Karmelitenkirche, which still stands in the district of Leopoldstadt today. Eybler’s is an
older, perhaps more “learned” style (at least in Das Zauberschwert) than that which can
be found in contemporaneous and later Viennese magical operas I discuss below.
Undoubtedly, this is partially due to his training and to his connections with higher
cultural circles in the city, but it may also be true that he simply had more time to invest
in his opera than did house composers, who were required to churn out new pieces
quickly and on a regular basis. Otto Rommel’s exclusion of Eybler’s opera in his
comprehensive monograph on Viennese folk comedies perhaps shows that to him, the
work did not belong in that category. Das Zauberschwert is certainly more serious than

181
For more information on Eybler and the empress, see John Rice, Empress Marie
Therese and Music at the Viennese Court 1792-1807 (Cambridge: Cambridge University
Press, 2003), particularly the first four chapters.

148

the mainly lighter fare performed at the Theater in der Leopoldstadt, but it is called a
“romantisch-komisches Original Singspiel” in the libretto as well as in theater posters
(Figure 4.1) and is no more serious in tone than Mozart and Schikaneder’s Die

Figure 4.1: Poster advertising a performance of Das Zauberschwert in 1803, A-Wtm,
Sammlung Theatergrafik, Plakate und Programme.

Zauberflöte, which Rommel chose to include in his study.
182
Das Zauberschwert contains
a similar mixture of serious and less serious characters and scenes as Die Zauberflöte, so
unless Rommel did not have access to the libretto of the former (which seems unlikely,

182
In the score I used, A-Wst, MH-2692, the piece is described simply as “Oper.”

149

since there are several available copies) or he included Mozart’s work simply because of
its fame and influence, it is difficult to understand the reasons for the omission. In the
sections below, I address the differences between Eybler’s opera and other Viennese
operas discussed below that are relevant to understanding magical features, but there are
many other aspects that would set Eybler’s score apart from much of this repertory.
Das Zauberschwert is significantly longer than the other works I consider here,
with two volumes, one for each act, a total of almost a thousand pages. The Austrian
National Library owns a partial autograph score, but as it was more easily accessible, I
used a different manuscript score, the first volume of which is located in the
Wienbibliothek. The second volume of the score is located in the Bayerische
Staatsbibliothek in Munich, and each library owns a photocopy of the volume it lacks.
183

The Journal des Luxus und der Moden of Weimar, called the poetry of Das
Zauberschwert lacking in merit while praising the excellent music. Although the writer
enjoyed the singers’ performances, he complained that the orchestra was full of weak
players.
184
The censor, Franz Karl Hägelin, found little that was worth objecting to in Das

183
MH-2692; D-Mbs, Mus.mss.8579-2. I did not compare these scores with each other.
184
“As we are already in Elysium, we now have the most beautiful transition to the opera
Das Zauberschwert, a composition by Mr. Eybler. It is being performed at the Theater in
der Leopoldstadt. As excellent as the music is, the poetry lacks merit. Also it is
regrettable that the orchestra there is somewhat too weak and not populated with
members of appropriate ability. However, the tenor, Mr Bondra, and the bass, Mr
Pfeiffer, sing quite pleasantly. Miss Perschel, who plays the princess, has a noble face,
natural decorum, and a winning voice.”
“Da wir nun schon im Elysium sind, so haben wir den schönsten Uebergang zu der Oper,
das Zauberschwert, von der Komposition des Hrn. Eybler. Sie wird auf dem Theater in
der Leopoldstadt gegeben. So vortrefflich die Musik dabei ist, so verdienstlos ist die
Poesie. Auch ist zu bedauern, daß das Orchester dort etwas zu schwach und nicht mit
Mitgliedern von erforderlicher Vollkommenheit besetzt ist. Indeß singen der Tenorist,
Hr. Bondra, und der Bassist, Hr. Pfeiffer, doch recht angenehm dabei. Mlle. Perschel,

150

Zauberschwert. The only offensive item he mentions is that the antlers (which imply
cuckoldry) appearing on the head of the comic character, Pitschili, need to be changed
into more acceptable donkey ears. Karl Glossy includes only this sentence of Hägelin’s
evaluation in his Zur Geschichte der Theater Wiens, presumably because the rest of it,
like so many of these evaluations, is largely a summary of the plot. I include Hägelin’s
comments in their entirety because the document is unpublished and uncatalogued—it is
located in Karl Glossy’s estate papers at the Theatermuseum in Vienna. The unpublished
sections are shown in boldface.

Franz Karl Hägelin’s unpublished evaluation of Das Zauberschwert, 1802.

Marinelli
Das Zauberschwert
SGspl. 2
You Excellency, gracious Sir,

Das Zauberschwert, a romantic comic singspiel in two acts, for Marinelli’s stage.

This singspiel is set in the magical or fairy world.
The fable is basically as follows:
Zorofos, ruler of the fire spirits, became jealous of his wife Irene because she
brought King Sophronos to the castle and refreshed him with food and drink
when he returned exhausted from battle. Sophronos has a daughter named
Milita who got lost during a hunt; Sophronos found her to have been
kidnapped by Zorofos, the former demanded the return of his daughter; the
two began a duel. Sophronos was murdered on a day on which his talisman
was without power against magic. Princess Milita was locked into the magic
castle by Zorofos, who demanded her love but was rejected. Prince Gabrino
together with his groom, Zelmor, and his squire, Pitschili, set out to find his
beloved Milita and to free her, but they are captured and brought to Zorofos;
the female guardian spirit, Delaja, frees him from danger. Irene, who
continues to love her husband Zorofos, unhindered by his unfaithfulness,
supports Prince Gabrino through advice and deeds and informs him that he
is on the right path to princess Milita but that he should visit the grave of
Sophronos in the magic grove and fetch his [Sophronos’s] sword, which can

welche die Prinzessin spielt, hat eine edle Gestalt, natürlichen anstand, und einen
gewinnenden Gesang.” Journal des Luxus und der Moden 17, July 1802, 389-90.

151

withstand magic and with which he could avenge Milita’s father. Disguised
as an old hermit, Prince Gabrino gives Zorophos a golden belt made by
Milita under the pretext that he received it from a priest in Memphis. This
was the talisman through which Milita would be moved to love. The belt is
delivered and from it Milita recognizes that her rescuer is approaching.
Gabrino arrives at the grave of Sophronos and obtains his sword. Zorofos
appears and sends all of his fire spirits and elements at Gabrino; Gabrino
slays a three-headed dragon that came out of the abyss; as Zorofos see this he
cries out “I am forsaken!” The tomb collapses and King Sophronos appears
alive and says: “Destiny is appeased.” Zorofos makes peace with his wife
Irene through an embrace, and King Sophronos marries his daughter Milita
to Prince Gabrino. The material contains nothing questionable; the undersigned
simply modified some overly lascivious expressions and mainly, the deer antlers
that the author gave the dwarf Pitschili were turned into more decent donkey ears.
In this way the piece was signed salva altiori approbation.
Hägelin
185

185
Excellenz, gnädiger Herr.
Das Zauberschwert, ein romantisch komisches Singspiel in 2 Akten für die Marinellische
Schaubühne.
Dieses Singspiel ist aus der Zauber – oder Feenwelt.
Die Fabel ist im wesentlichen folgendes:
Zorofos beherrscher der Feuergeister wurde auf seine Gemahlinn Irene
eifersüchtig, weil sie den Konig [sic] Sophronos als er abgemattet aus dem Gefechte
zurückkehrte, in die Burg aufnahm, und ihn mit Speiße [sic] und Trank labte.
Sophronos hath eine Tochter Melita [sic; Milita] genannt; diese ging auf der Jagd
verloren; Sophronos fand sie zwar wieder von Zorofos geraubt, der erstere forderte
seine Tochter zurück; beide geriethen in Zweykampf, Sophronos wurde an einem
Tage, wo sein Talismann ohne Kraft gegen die Zauberey war, gemordet: die
Prinzessin Melita wurde von Zorofos in das Zauberschloß gesperrt, und von ihr
Gegenliebe gefordert, von dieser aber verweigert. Prinz Gabrino begab sich mit
seinem Stallmeister Zelmor, und seinem Knappen Pitschili auf die Wanderung,
seine geliebte Melita aufzusuchen, und sie zu befreyen, wurden aber gefangen, und
zu Zorofos gebracht; der weibliche Schutzgeist Delaya befreyte ihn aus der Gefahr.
Irene, die ihren Gemahl Zorofos ungehindert seiner untreue noch immer liebte,
unterstützte den Prinzen Gabrino mit Rath und That, und benachrichtigte ihn, daß
er auf dem rechten Wege zur Prinzessinn Melita wäre, er sollte aber im Zauberhain
das Monument des Soph[r]onos besuchen, und dessen Schwert hohlen, welches dem
Zauber widerstehe und womit er den Vater der Melita rächen könnte. Prinz
Gabrino übergiebt dem Zorofos in der Gestalt eines alten Eremiten einen goldenen
von der Prinzessinn Melita ehehin verfertigten Gürtel, unter dem Vorwand, ihn von
einem Priester zu Memphis erhalten zu haben; dieses wäre der Talismann, wodurch
Melita zur liebe bewogen werden würde; der Gürtel wird übergeben, und Melita
erkennt hideraus die ankunft ihres Retters. Gabrino gelangt zum Monument des
Sophronos und erhält dessen Schwert. Zorofos erscheint und fordert alle seine
Feuergeister und Elemente wider den Gabrino auf; Gabrino erlegt einen

152

According to Karl Glossy, this document is from May 12, 1802. The copy I found did not
include a day or a month, but if Glossy is correct, then the evaluation dates from precisely
the time when Hägelin was asserting his views to his superiors on how the censorship
process should be handled (see Chapter 1). The Latin phrase at the end of the evaluation,
“salva altiori approbation” (without higher approval), shows that Hägelin feels he has
done a thorough enough job censoring the work on his own. According to Hadamowsky,
the piece was performed 27 times in 1802 and four times in 1803, after which it was
dropped from the theater’s repertory.
186
I discuss the piece in more detail below.

Ferdinand Kauer’s Das Donauweibchen

It is unclear in which year Ferdinand Kauer began working at the Theater in der
Leopoldstadt. Kurt Manschinger’s dissertation, which treats the composer’s biography in
detail, cites sources that claim he was a part of the original staff when the theater opened
but concludes that there is no real evidence of his participation as house composer until

dreyköpfigen Drachen, der aus dem Abgrunde kam; als dieses Zorofos siehet, ruft
er: Ich bin verloren! Das Grabmal stürzt ein, der König Sophronos erscheint
lebendig und sagt: das Schicksal sey versöhnt. Zorofos versöhnt sich mit seiner
Gemahlinn Irene durch eine Umarmung, und König Sophronos vermählt seine
Tochter Melita mit dem Prinzen Gabrino. Der Stoff hat nichts bedenkliches; vom
unterzeichneten wurden nur verschiedene in etwas zu lüsterne Ausdruck moderirt
[Glossy writes “moderiert”], und hauptsächlich das Hirschgeweih, das der Author dem
Zwergen Pitschili gegeben hatte, in anständige [Glossy writes “anständigere”] Eselohren
[Glossy writes “Eselsohren”] verwandelt.
Auf diese Art wurde das Stück salva altiori approbation unterfertiget.
Hägelin
186
Hadamowksky, 293.

153

1790.
187
Little is known about Kauer’s musical training: Manschinger writes that he took
composition lessons with two obscure teachers named Heidenreich and Zimmermann,
who may have been members of the orchestra in the Theater in der Leopoldstadt.
188
Still,
he must have developed a fair amount of confidence in his musical knowledge, since he
wrote several theoretical treatises on technique: for the proper playing of the flute, the
violin, the clarinet, the cello, and the piano. He also wrote pedagogical works on music
theory, one of which was specifically intended for women. Most of these are located,
together with Kauer’s own catalog of his works, at the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde in
Vienna, and quite a number of them were published by Artaria and other houses.
Manschinger does not have a high opinion of the quality of these treatises, and he
criticizes Kauer’s confused ideas, his linguistic inaccuracies, and his provinciality. The
only work that Manschinger sees as having some merit is the second of Kauer’s two
tracts on keyboard technique.
189

Kauer got his start writing for the stage by composing children’s operas (which I
discuss briefly in Chapter 3), but his popularity was established in 1798 with Das
Donauweibchen. That this piece was truly popular in Vienna and in other German-
speaking areas is evident from the many different librettos in countless versions and from
the large number of sequels that can be found today. According to Müller’s Spielplan,
Das Donauweibchen was first performed on January 11, 1798, as a benefit for its
librettist, Karl Friedrich Hensler (Figure 4.2), and it received twelve more performances

187
Kurt Manschinger, “Ferdinand Kauer, ein Beitrag zur Geschichte des Wiener
Singspiels um die Wende des 18. Jahrhunderts” (Ph.D. diss., University of Vienna,
1929), 25.
188
Ibid., 19.
189
Ibid., 21-22.

154

that month—Emperor Francis and his wife attended the last of these, on January 29.
Müller further writes that his daughter Rösi’s performance as Lilli, the four-year-old
daughter of the title character, Hulda, made him very happy. Rösi, who would have been
seven years old at the time, grew up to be the well-known soprano Therese Grünbaum.
The performances of Das Donauweibchen continued from February 2 to February 5, and
the second part of the opera—Das Donauweibchen zweiter Theil, had its premiere on
February 13, 1798. The emperor and his wife and a daughter attended this sequel on May
20. The daughter with whom they attended was most probably the Archduchess Marie-
Louise, who was just a few months younger than Müller’s daughter (she was born on
December 12, 1791) and who married Napoleon Bonaparte in 1810.
Das Donauweibchen is one of the earliest magical pieces to include specifically
Viennese references (such pieces are also discussed in Chapter 3); rather than taking
place in exotic locations, magical events occur in the Viennese forest or on the shores of
the Danube. Although it is designated as a “romantisch-komisches Volksmärchen,”
Rommel does not know of any legends from lower Austria that could have been models
for Hensler’s libretto, and, noting the lack in Austria of folk tales involving supernatural
water creatures, he draws the conclusion that the story was adapted from a novel by
Vulpius, who came from Thuringia, where such tales were plentiful.
190
The cliffhanger
ending of the piece was highly unusual at the time: the title character, Hulda, who is
portrayed as essentially evil, ends up triumphing and apparently invalidating a sanctified
marriage in order to reunite with her lover, Albrecht. Such dramatic tension is

190
Rommel, 562-64. Manschinger thinks that the story comes from the Melusine legends,
which appear to have a history both in France and in Germany. Manschinger, 84.

155

Figure
4.2: A poster inviting the public to the first performance of Das Donauweibchen,
A-Wst, C-64525.

generally absent from this repertory and the lack of the usual, rather trite lieto fine could
well have been a reason for which Das Donauweibchen was so popular. As Branscombe
points out, the nontraditional ending was largely possible because the piece was labeled

156

“Part I,” thus making it clear that it was to be continued.
191
Hensler revisits this technique
of the cliffhanger in 1800 with his Die zwölf schlafenden Jungfrauen, which is an
adaptation of a work with the same name by Christian Heinrich Spiess.
A score for Das Donauweibchen zweyter Theil was not available to me, but
Manschinger includes a useful thematic catalogue for it and for some of the other sequels
and adaptations based on Hulda’s story in his dissertation.
192
This sequel continues
precisely where the first part left off, beginning with the same setting of a cave in which
the hero, Albrecht, can be seen lying at Hulda’s feet as all of the wedding guests stand
frozen in place. The chorus of the nixies that ended the finale of Das Donauweibchen
erster Theil begins the sequel by singing Hulda’s praises and welcoming Albrecht into
their watery realm. As the guests regain consciousness, the scene changes back to the hall
in which Albrecht’s wedding to Bertha was to have taken place. Albrecht is once again in
Bertha’s arms, and everybody is bewildered and unsure of what has just happened. The
resolution of the piece is left until the end, and the dramatic tension is heightened because
Bertha appears to die but is resurrected at the last moment.
Yet another sequel, this time from 1803, bears a designation as the first part of the
continuation of Das Donauweibchen (leaving open the possibility for further sequels) and
is called Die Nymphe der Donau. It too continues the action from the point at which the
last piece ended and refers to earlier events that occurred in both previous pieces. Some
jokes are made that would certainly have been funnier for those audience members who

191
Peter Branscombe. "Donauweibchen, Das." In The New Grove Dictionary of Opera,
edited by Stanley Sadie. Grove Music Online. Oxford Music Online,
http://www.oxfordmusiconline.com.libproxy.usc.edu/subscriber/article/grove/music/O01
1386 (accessed May 23, 2012).
192
See Manschinger, Anhang, 180-252.

157

were familiar with the prior two installments.
193
That times are changing is evident from
the more patriotic features of the piece, celebrating German courage and railing against
unspecified enemies of the German people. According to Wenzel Müller’s Spielplan, the
premiere took place on February 4, 1803, as a benefit for Johann Joseph La Roche. While
Müller calls the piece Die Donau Nixe, the theater censor, Hägelin, clarifies this by
calling the piece by its true double name in his evaluation: it is either Das
Donauweibchen: dritter Theil or Die Nixe der Donau, erster Theil.
Hägelin’s evaluation of this piece was also left unpublished by Karl Glossy,
perhaps for the same reasons as the evaluation of Das Zauberschwert discussed above,
but also quite clearly because the opening phrases of the summary portion of the
evaluation speak relatively frankly about infidelity—Glossy generally avoided publishing
texts containing such content. I include the evaluation in regular font rather than in
boldface, since none of it was ever published, there is no need to distinguish between
what Glossy included and what he omitted. The many errors in the text were probably
made by the copyist rather than by Hägelin.

193
There is also a so-called “Seitenstück” to all of the Donauweibchen pieces called Das
Waldweibchen, which was first performed on April 1, 1800, shortly after Marinelli’s
death. As with Das Zauberschwert, the premiere was a benefit for Anna Gottlieb. It was
played five times in a row, commencing again after the Easter season on April 14, for
another four consecutive performances.

158

Franz Karl Hägelin’s evaluation of Das Donauweibchen: dritter Theil, 1802

[1]802
Excellency
Gracious Sir!

Das Donauweibchen: dritter Theil, oder die Nixe der Donau, erster Theil;
a “romantisch-komisches Feen-Märchen” in 3 Acts, intended for the Theater in der
Leopoldstadt; by Karl Friedrich Hensler.

Contents

The nixie of the Danube, Hulda, has seen to it that the knight Albrecht von Waldsee, her
former lover, has been happily united in marriage with Bertha von Burgau. Shortly after
the wedding, Albrecht feels a certain coolness toward his spouse; he tries to distract
himself with hunting and other girls.
194
He also longs for Hulda again; he stayed out for
two days and two nights with his steward, Larifari. Bertha had Bruno search for him.
Hulda appeared to him [Albrecht] with her nixies in the palace; she admonished hime to
love truly, in order to be happy. Count Hartwig von Burgau, Bertha’s father, is about to
surprise his daughter with a visit on the first anniversary of her wedding. Fräulein
Hedwig von Lindenhorst, who was in love with Albrecht, but who was displaced by
Bertha, resolves to take revenge for the affront to her, and Junker Bodo von Triesnitz
shall try to seduce Bertha into unfaithfulness. The intention was to rile up Albrecht and
Bodo and to exact revenge on the one through manipulated love or dissimulation and on
the other through jealousy. At the same time, Hedwig denigrates Albrecht to his father-
in-law, Count Hartwig, who takes Albrecht to task for his infidelities; Albrecht wants to
kill him but is prevented from doing so by the ghost of old Siegfried, his ancient ancestor.
Bodo attempts his plan with Bertha but is rejected, as is Hedwig, who brings her feigned
love contract to Albrecht. Hulda had decided and promised from the beginning to bring
Albrecht to the faithful Bertha, albeit after testing him, and so there are many
appearances of Hulda in a number of forms and of the protective genie, Lili, through
which Albrecht, his steward, and his butler have revenge taken upon them. As a result
there are very many thunderbolts and lightning strikes and transformations, as is common
in the realm of the fairies. Finally Hulda appears to Bertha as a conciliatory nobleman;
Bertha believes that this is Hugo, a friend from her youth who is throwing himself at her
feet. She is drawn to him as if by magic and embraces him; Albrecht, who believes he
[Hugo] is a paramour, wants to crush his skull and curse Bertha, but Hulda protects her,
paralyzes his arm and flees with Bertha, who is supposed to live with her until Albrecht
wishes to possess her again and until he is punished for his offenses. Bertha finds herself

194
Only in modern usage does the word “Dirne” have the negative connotation of harlot
or prostitute.

159

in Hulda’s castle, and that is how the first part ends. Since the rest of this fairy tale
contains nothing questionable, and a few expressions here and there in the text are
corrected, nothing should stand in the way of high approval.
195

195
[1]802
Excellenz
Gnädiger Herr!
/./ Das Donauweibchen : dritter Theil, oder die Nixe der Donau, Erster Theil; ein
romantisch-komisches feen-Mährchen in 3 Aufzügen für das Leopoldstadtertheater [sic]
bestimmt; von Carl Friedrich Hensler.

Innhalt
Die Donaunixe Hulda hatte den Ritter Albrecht von Waldsee ihren ehemaligen Liebling
glücklich mit Bertha von Burgau ehelich vereiniget[.] Kurz nach der Hochzeit empfindet
Albrecht Kälte gegen seine Gattin; Er sucht sich mit der Jagd und anderen Dirnen zu
zerstreuen. Er sehnte sich auch wieder [nach] Hulda; Er war mit seinem Zechmeister
Larifari 2 Tage und 2 Nächte ausgeblieben[.] Bertha ließ ihn durch Bruno aufsuchen.
Hulda war ihm im Schloße mit ihren Nixen erschienen; Sie mahnte ihm [sic] zur wahren
Liebe um glücklich zu sein. Graf Hontwig [Hartwig] von Burgau Vater der Bertha ist im
Begriffe seiner Tochter am Jahresfeste ihrer Verlobung mit seinem Besuche zu
überraschen. Fräulein Hedwig von Lindenhorst, welche in Albrechten verliebt war und
von diesen der Bertha nachgesetzt wurde, beschließt Rache wegen ihrer Zurücksetzung;
sie will Albrechten verstellte Liebe heucheln und Junker Bodo von friedrich [recte:
Triesnitz] soll die Bertha zur untreu[e] zureitzen suchen. Die Absicht war, Albrecht und
Bodo zusammen zu hetzen, um sich an dem einen durch verstellte Liebe oder Heucheley,
und andere durch Eifersucht zu rächen. Hedwig verschwärzt zugleich Albrechten bey
seinem Schwiegervater dem Grafen Hartwig, dieser stellt Albrechten wegen seiner
Ausschweifungen zu Rede; Albrecht will ihn dagegen ermorden wird aber von dem
Schatten der [sic] alten Siegfrieds seines Urahnherrn daran verhindert[.] Bodo versucht
seinen Plan bey Bertha, wird aber abgefertiget, wie Hedwig, die ihren verstellten
Liebesvertrag bey Albrecht anbringt. Hulda hatte sich gleich anfangs vorgenommen und
versprochen Albrechten wieder zur treue[n] Bertha, doch durch Prüfungen, zuzuführen
daher geschehen sehr viele Erscheinungen der Hulda, und der [sic] Schutzgenius Lili
unter mancherley Gestalten wodurch Albrecht, sein Zechmeister und Kammerwart
gerächt werden. Daher kommen so viele Donnerblitze und Verwandlungen vor, wie es im
Feenreiche Gewohnheit ist. Endlich erscheint Hulda der Bertha als versö[h]nlicher
Edelmann; Bertha glaubt, es sey Hugo ihr Jugendfreund der zu ihren Füßen stürzt[.] Sie
wird wie durch Zauber zu ihn [sic] hingezogen, und umarmt ihn; Albrecht, der ihn für
einen Buhler hält, will ihm den Schädel zerschmettern und seiner Bertha fluchen allein
Hulda schützt sie, lähmt seinen Arm, und verschwindet mit Bertha, die bey ihr leben solte
[sic], bis Albrecht ihren Besitz zurückwünscht, und die [sic] zur Strafe seiner
Vergehungen. Bertha befindet sich im Schlosse der Hulda und so endigt sich der erste
Theil. Da der Rest dieses Feenmärchens nichts bedenkliches enthält, und im Texte hie
und wieder einige Ausdrücke corrigirt werden, so dürfte der hohen Bewilligung nichts im
Wege stehen.

160

Wenzel Müller’s Aline oder Wien in einem anderen Welttheile

As the following review from the Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung shows, critics at least,
were aware of different types of magical operas. This reviewer juxtaposes the high and
the lower styles, distinguishing between such works as Die Zauberflöte, Das Labyrinth,
and Babylons Pyramiden on the one hand and Der Tyroler Wastel and Der Alte überall
und nirgends on the other.
In the suburban theaters, no opera has stood out in quite some time even though
there was very attractive music to be found in one by the name of Der rothe Geist
im Donnergebirge, which had Herr Ritter von Seyfried and Herr Trübensee as
creators and which took place at Schikaneder’s [theater]. In general, it seems to
me that the audience is finally tired of continually watching the foolery of all of
these ghost- and magical-harlequinades in the theater and that it is demanding
stronger nourishment, more appropriate to healthy common sense.
It is now high time to allow these absurdities to fall into oblivion because
it was disgraceful how much effort was expended through magnificent costumes,
sets, and good (more often bad) music to encourage the public’s taste for such
rubbish and to lure away the feeling for true beauty through a puppet show. A few
waltzes, one single piece of machinery, one set, were until recently able to bring
the greatest credit even to the worst poetry and music in an opera. If one sees, for
example, the operas Der Alte überall und nirgends and der Tyroler Wastel, one
will thank God, when one has survived them for the first time. It would however
be unfair to disavow the good taste of the entire audience due to what was
performed. When Crescentini sang, when Haydn’s Creation was given, one could
see clearly, that it [the audience] had as much feeling for a great singer as for a
great composer. But let us make a comparison between the first singers of the
national theater and those of the Schikaneder theater, and you will find that the
audience finds disproportionately more pleasure with the latter’s Madame
Willmann and Herr Hiller than with the former’s Madame Galvani and Herr
Lippert, which also contributes so much to the ability to endure a bad yet well-
sung opera. Equally indisputable is that Schikaneder has more music in the grand
style. Take Die Zauberflöte, Das Labyrinth, Babylons Pyramiden etc. All this
gradually contributes so much that one becomes so accustomed to this genre of
operas because they offer so much variety and are performed so well, that one
overlooks the incredible nonsense completely. In this case and from this point of
view, I excuse the audience. But when it offers its approval and great
encouragement to operas like Die Ostinder vom Spittleberg, Der Sturm, Das
Donauweibchen, and many others that are equally abominable—what can one

161

say? Nothing more than what the producers of such opera theaters think: Mundus
vult. . . .
196

The reviewer acknowledges the power that stage machinery and sets can have over the
audience, but more interestingly, he explains that sometimes the performers at the
suburban theaters were simply better and far more entertaining for the public than those

196
In den Vorstadttheatern fiel schon seit geraumer Zeit keine Oper sehr auf, obschon
sich bey einer, unter dem Titel Der rothe Geist im Donnergebirge, welche bey
Schikaneder gegeben wurde, sehr hübsche Musik fand, welche den Hrn Ritter von
Seyfried und Hrn Trübensee zu Verfassern hat. Mir scheint überhaupt, das Publikum ist
es hier endlich müde, länger den Unfug aller dieser Geister- und Zauber-Harlekinaden
auf dem Theater zu sehen, und verlangt nach einer kräftigern, dem gesunden
Menschenverstande mehr angemessenen Nahrung.
Es ist aber nun auch hohe Zeit, diese Albernheiten der Vergessenheit zu übergeben; denn
es war schändlich, wie sehr man sich bemühte, durch prachtvolle Kleider, ‘Decoration,
gute (noch öfter schlechte) Musik dem Publikum Geschmack an diesem Firlefanz
beyzubringen, und das ganze Gefühl, von wahrer Schönheit durch Puppenspiel
abzulocken. Ein Paar Walzer, eine einzige Maschinerie, eine Decorazion waren noch vor
kurzem im Stande, auch der schlechtesten Poesie und Musik einer Oper den grössten
Kredit zu verschaffen. Man sehe z.B. die Opern: Der Alte überall und nirgends, und den
Tyroler Wastel, und man wird Gott danken, wenn man sie das Erstemal überstanden hat.
Es wäre indessen sehr unbillig, wenn man des Angeführten wegen dem ganzen Publikum
einen guten Geschmack abstreiten wollte.” Als Crescentini sang, als Haydn’s Schöpfung
gegeben wurde, sah man sehr deutlich, daß es eben so viel Gefühl für einen großen
Sänger, als großen Komponisten habe. Lassen Sie uns aber einen Vergleich zwischen den
ersten Sängern des Nationaltheaters und jenen des Schikanederschen anstellen, und Sie
werden finden, daß das Publikum ungleich mehr Vergnügen haben muß, bey letzterm
Mad. Willmann und Hrn. Hiller, als im erstern Mad. Galvani, und Hr. Lippert, zu hören,
welches denn auch vieles beyträgt, bey einer schlechten, doch gut gesungenen Oper
auszuhalten. Eben so unstreitig hat auch Schikaneder mehr Musik im großen Styl.
Nehmen Sie die Zauberflöte, das Labyrinth, Babylons Pyramiden etc. Dieß alles trägt
nach und nach so viel bey, daß man sich an diese Gattung ven [sic] Opern, weil sie viele
Abwechslung darbieten, und sehr gut vorgestellt werden, so sehr gewöhnt, daß man den
ungeheuern Unsinn ganz übersieht. In diesem Falle und von dieser Seite entschuldige ich
das Publikum. Wenn es aber Opern, wie die Ostindier vom Spittelberg, der Sturm, das
Donauweibchen und vielen andern eben so abscheulichen, seinen Beyfall und zahlreichen
Zuspruch schenkt: was will man dazu sagen? Nichts anders, als was sich die
Entrepreneurs solcher Operntheater denken: Mundus vult. . . . [mundus vult decipi: the
world wants to be deceived] Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung, 1 (October 3, 1799), 814-
15.

162

in the city.
197
Although he disparages works like Das Donauweibchen, for both stylistic
and musical reasons, the work actually seems to stand somewhere between the two
categories he has created, mixing elements of the desired higher style with the lowly
pandering to the audience that the reviewer disdains. Aline oder Wien in einem anderen
Welttheile, fits into the latter category. There were far more operas performed at the
Theater in der Leopoldstadt that were similar to Aline than to Das Zauberschwert or even
to Das Donauweibchen.
The story of Aline was already quite famous by the time Adolf Bäuerle wrote his
text. Known in France as Aline, reine de Golconde the piece was decidedly more serious
than the Viennese version (Figure 4.3), which is a parody.
198
The original plot came from
a novel, and Michel-Jean Sedaine transformed it into a ballet héroique with music
composed by Pierre-Alexandre Monsigny in 1766. Of many operatic versions (including
one by Donizetti), the one by librettists Jean Baptiste Charles Vial and Edmond de
Favières with the composer Henri-Montan Berton was probably the one that

197
Audiences also became attached to specific performers playing particular roles, so for
example when a performer named Mayer played the role of Kaspar in Die Teufelsmühle
am Wienerberg after the death of Johann La Roche, they hissed at him and thumped
[perhaps on wood] when he sang; they only clapped when he broke character and said “I
am not the true Kasperl, I am just an imitation.”
“ ‘Der neue Kasperl in Wien’”
“Es war bald nach dem Tode des Schauspielers la Roche der auf dem hiesigen
Leopoldstädter-Theater durch lange Jahre sich beliebt und berühmt machte, daß Herr
Mayer vom Troppauer-Theater in der Teufelsmühle am Wienerberge als Kaspar
debutiret. Das Haus war zum Erdrücken voll, und Alles sah dem Fremden mit einer Art
Neugierde entgegen die auffallend war. Endlich erschien er, und siehe da mit ihm auch
die Kabale. Bey seiner ersten Scene die er so leidentlich spielte, wurde gezischt, bey
seinem Gesange das freylich häßlich sich vernehmen ließ, gepocht und kein Wort mehr
beklatscht als das einzige Impromtu: Ich bin nicht der wahre Kasperl, ich bin nur der
nachgemachte.” Wiener Theaterzeitung 2 (July 8, 1806), 23.
198
Rommel discusses various versions of the story, 785-89.

163

Figure 4.3: A poster advertising the third performance of Aline in 1822, A-Wtm,
Sammlung Theatergrafik, Plakate und Programme.

influenced Bäuerle the most.
199
According to Peter Branscombe, “Aline is the best-
known example of a ‘parodistisches Zauberspiel’—a convenient modern term to
designate a work which began life as a parody, usually of an older operatic work, and
rapidly gained independent existence.”
200
Bäuerle’s libretto, which classifies itself as a

199
Otto Rommel, Das parodistische Zauberspiel (Leipzig: Reclam, 1937), 31-32.
200
Peter Branscombe “Schubert and the Melodrama,” in Eva Badura-Skoda and Peter
Branscombe, ed., Schubert Studies: Problems of Style and Chronology (Cambridge:
Cambridge University Press, 1982), 113-14.

164

“Volks- und Zauberoper,” was first performed in the Theater in der Leopoldstadt on
October 9, 1822, as a benefit for Johann Sartory, an actor and stage director, who worked
his way up to the position of director of the theater by the mid-1820s. Wenzel Müller
wrote the music to Aline, as he did for the vast majority of works performed at the
Theater in der Leopoldstadt.
201
His meticulously kept diary, which not only provides a
complete schedule of works performed at the theater between 1781 and 1835, but also
includes many annotations regarding who attended performances and records various
historical events, is one of the most valuable sources for studying this repertory.
202

Although he joined the theater on April 29, 1786, Müller’s Spielplan retroactively
includes events beginning in 1781, the year of its founding, and continues uninterrupted
until 1830, five years before his death. Müller worked at the Theater in der Leopoldstadt
continuously except for a period between 1807 and 1812, during which he was engaged
at the German theater in Prague. According to contemporary reports, Müller’s time in
Prague was the unhappiest period of his life.
203
In one example of negative press that
might have contributed to Müller’s unhappiness during this time, a critic writing in the
Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung in September of 1807 denigrates him for being as badly
suited to being a conductor as he was to being an opera composer. The criticisms also
extended beyond his work: in addition to loudly stamping his feet in order to control the
orchestra, Müller apparently had a particularly tall chair constructed so that (according to

201
According to Rommel (Die Alt-Wiener Volkskomödie, 441), Müller wrote the music to
235 theatrical pieces. Walter Krone corroborates this in his biography of Müller (Wenzel
Müller, ein Beitrag zur Geschichte der komischen Oper [Berlin: E. Ebering, 1906], 19).
202
Rudolph Angermüller’s recent book, Wenzel Müller und “sein” Leopoldstädter
Theater transcribes some of the Spielplan and could be useful to scholars who do not
have access to the original, but there are some problems with the content and structure of
this volume.
203
Krone, 61.

165

the reviewer) his audience would be sure to notice his large diamond ring while he
conducted.
204
After such a negative reception, Müller was no doubt delighted to return to
the Theater in der Leopoldstadt in 1812, where his talents were better appreciated. He
was replaced as Kapellmeister in Prague by Carl Maria von Weber.
Aline oder Wien in einem anderen Welttheile takes place in an exotic land called
Golconda, where Aline, who used to be a slave, has been crowned queen. When the
scenery changes, one part of the land becomes a “Zaubergegend,” which, in a reversal of
what might normally constitute a magical region, shows Vienna. The character Karl (or
Carlo) wakes up here and sees the queen in Viennese traditional dress—in general, the
local is more compelling in this piece than the exotic. When Aline appears speaking in
Viennese dialect, the stage directions in the libretto point out that a good actress can
come across as regal in spite of how she is speaking, just like the brilliant Ennöckl—a
reference to Katharina Ennöckl, the popular performer who later became Bäuerle’s
second wife. The libretto also takes pains to carefully describe the peasant costume that
she should wear: a straw hat with a blue, wide band, a gold bonnet underneath, and a
crimson corset. The piece is full of local allusions, with the second aria, sung by Aline’s
friend Zilli, who is yearning for home, referring to such specific places in Vienna, such as
Währing, Döbling, and Hietzing. The aria also praises the Viennese people and says how
“bieder” (honest, or respectable) they are. This idealization of the city ends when the
comic character Bims arrives, fresh off the boat from Vienna. He points out that all the
good, old things that Zilli remembers about Vienna are either gone or have changed for
the worse and that it is now fashionable to be impolite. Such criticism of the current state

204
Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung 9 (September 2, 1807), 775-76.

166

of affairs combined with an idealization of the city’s past is common in the works
performed in the suburban theaters during this period.
The main supernatural character in Aline is Lissa, the patron goddess of
Golconda. Aline herself also possesses magical powers, but these serve mainly to
orchestrate scene changes (i.e., when she transforms the foreign landscape into a
Viennese one) rather than to display her powers and to make her seem impressive.
Indeed, even Lissa’s powers do not seem to be that extensive, and her main magical act is
to give Bims some “Wunderwasser” (miracle water), which gives him special powers
such as superior vision, hearing, and strength. The libretto calls for several magical
tableaux that are not included in the score. It is impossible to know whether such
(presumably instrumental) numbers were included in the performance or not. Müller was
extremely busy, and since he was responsible for most of the music at the theater
throughout his time there, it might have been easier for him not to compose additional
music; perhaps previously written music was used for these tableaux.
As we will see below, Müller does not generally show much interest in the
supernatural in his available scores or at least, other than a few nods to tradition, he does
not attempt to illustrate it in the music. Magical features in the text, but especially in the
music, are quite minimal in this and also in many other pieces from this period that have
the word “Zauber” attached to their titles. For Müller’s style, this seems to be consistent
throughout his long career, regardless of whether the librettists he worked with tended
toward emphasizing the supernatural during certain years or not. In one of his most
famous early works, Kaspar der Fagottist oder die Zauberzither, for instance, although
there are several supernatural scenes, Müller’s music does not employ the traditional

167

vocabulary that most other composers use in similar pieces. The sorcerer in Kaspar der
Fagottist from 1791, Bosphoro, happens to be a rather bumbling character, whose role
does not include his showing off great powers. In his only spell in the opera, he
coordinates with his servant Zumio to call upon the waves to do his bidding.

Figure 4.4: Bosphoro in the libretto, from 1796, of Kaspar der Fagottist oder die
Zauberzither, A-Wst, A-110974.

The music does not present anything particularly dramatic and simply alternates between
an E-flat-major chord and its dominant. The score has many indications for thunder and
lightning, presumably written by stage managers, but the overall dramatic effect might

168

have been somewhat insipid or at least relatively limited, since the music did not
contribute to it. In any case, the spell fails, and Bosphoro and Zumio both end up needing
to be rescued by Bosphoro’s slaves, who sing a chorus making fun of their master’s
incompetence. The libretto of Kaspar der Fagottist that was printed in Prague in 1796
includes a copperplate engraving that shows Bosphoro as a traditionally dressed sorcerer.
Here there is no indication that he is actually a less serious character (Figure 4.4). As with
the music, perhaps illustrations also relied to some degree upon formulaic representations
of supernatural characters.
In many of Müller’s later pieces, including Aline, the most dramatic, supernatural
moments in the libretto are essentially ignored in the music.
205
This is less true for the
scenes featuring benign supernatural characters. In Aline, the goddess Lissa’s first
entrance, on a boat pulled by swans, is accompanied not only in the requisite E-flat major
but by regal dotted chords, befitting the entrance of royalty, if not necessarily a deity.
While it appears that Müller had less interest than some other composers in setting
supernatural, dramatic moments, it is also true that these moments tended not to be the
parts of operas that became the most beloved. Examples of what these popular parts were
abound in the form of advertisements for sheet music and in publications of songs from
the repertory of the suburban theaters, and I have not found a single piece that includes a
supernatural moment or character. The emphasis is on the strophic songs that are
gemütlich and that take love or a local reference as their subject.
The theater poster of Aline (Figure 4.3) advertises three additional musical
numbers that are not part of either the score or the libretto. The personnel listed for the

205
Krone (41) also discusses this aspect of Müller’s music.

169

performance of these numbers, according to the annually published Taschenbuch
(handbook) for the theater, consists of members of the pantomime troupe rather than the
acting or singing troupe.
206
The pantomime troupe began expanding in 1818, the year
when the dancer Paul Rainoldi is first listed as the new “Pantomimen-Meister” in the
handbook. The number of dancers continues to increase during the 1820s, and they
become divided into various types, including first and second characters and first and
second grotesque dancers.
207
Perhaps partially due to Rainoldi’s skill, operas from this
period included many more pantomimes than previously. Most likely, the continued
popularity of magical operas did not lie solely in the fact that they had supernatural
features; perhaps they continued to be composed and performed out of habit or tradition.
But the pantomimes may have contributed a great deal to keeping these performances
fresh and interesting to audiences.
Aline oder Wien in einem anderen Welttheile was quite popular, and enjoyed 110
performances at the Theater in der Leopoldstadt between 1822 and 1854.
208
It was also
adapted by theaters in other countries, which then used different names for it, such as
Aliena oder Prag in einem anderen Weltteile and Aline, Königin von Golkonda oder
Dresden in einem anderen Weltteile.
209
Unlike most Viennese magical operas, Aline
received a positive review from the generally critical Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung,

206
The Taschenbuch for the Theater in der Leopoldstadt was first published in 1814. The
shelfmark at the Wienbibliothek for the volume from 1822 is A-9240.
207
For more on grotesque dancers see Rebecca Harris-Warrick and Bruce Alan Brown,
ed., The Grotesque Dancer on the Eighteenth-Century Stage: Gennaro Magri and his
World (Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press, 2005).
208
Rommel, 755.
209
Ibid., 784-85.

170

although it mentions (but perhaps without intending to criticize) how much the Viennese
liked to be reminded of the beauty of their homeland.
The Leopoldstädtertheater presents a new Zauberoper: Aline oder: Wien in einem
anderen Welttheile by Bäuerle—[I wish them] continued luck. It is an
extraordinarily witty parody of the famous subject; the idea that the ruler of
Golkonda, with the help of a powerful fairy who is benevolently inclined toward
her, can ultimately conjure all of the idyllic regions of her lover’s homeland
contains a very special appeal for the fun-loving Viennese, who so loves to visit
the meadows of his fatherland and while away harmless hours in dolce far niente.
Müller’s humorous music, the artful dances, the charming choreography, the
faithful portrayal of nature in the sets, and finally the engaging performances by
all of the performers — amongst whom the ladies Ennökel and Raymund and the
gentlemen Sartory, Korntheuer and Raymund deserve pride of place; each
[feature] contributes individually to the attainment of a beautiful overall effect
and provides the patron of this authentic people’s theater with many a pleasurable
evening.
210

Rommel too, writes about a special relationship the Viennese have, in this case with the
representations of the supernatural that were so common in the suburban theaters. While
nobody believed in ghosts and fairies anymore, the audience’s pleasure in unearthing the
inadequacies of these less than perfect and all too human characters remained, in his
view, the artistically compelling aspect of the Zauberspiel.
211
And yet, Rommel,

210
“[Das] Leopoldstädter-Theater macht eine neue Zauberoper: Aline oder: Wien in
einem andern Welttheile, von Bäuerle, fortwährend Glück. Es ist eine ungemein wizzige
Parodie des bekannten Stoffes; die Idee, dass die Beherrscherin Golkondas, mit Hülfe
einer mächtigen, ihr wohl-wollenden Fee, dem Geliebten allmählig alle Gegenden seiner
paradisischen Heymath herzaubert, hat für den Lebenslustigen Wiener, der so gerne seine
vaterländischen Fluren zu besuchen, im dolce far niente dort harmlose Stunden zu
vertändeln pflegt, einen ganz eigenen Reiz, und Müllers humoristische Musik, die artigen
Tänze, das niedliche Arrangement von Rainoldi, die getreuen Naturportraite in den
Dekorationen, endlich das eingreifende Spiel sämmtlicher Darsteller, worunter den
Damen Ennökel, und Raymund, den Herren Sartory, Korntheuer und Raymund der
Ehrenplatz gebührt, tragen, jedes vereinzelt, zur Erreichung eines schönen Totaleffekts
bey, und verschaffen dem Gönner dieser ächten Volksbühne manchen recht
vergnüglichen Abend.” Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung 49 (December 4, 1822), 794.
211
“Selbstverständlich ‘glaubte’ von den Zuschauern im Leopoldstädter ‘Lachtheater’
kein Mensch mehr in der religiösen Bedeutung des Wortes an ‘Geister’ und ‘Feen,’ ja der
künstlerische Reiz der parodistischen Zauberspiele beruhte geradezu auf der Aufdeckung

171

specifically citing Aline, thinks that there was a certain degree of belief in the characters
that the Viennese nevertheless possessed. This arrives at the root of the issue of what the
differences are between pieces like Das Zauberschwert and ones like Aline. Rommel
goes on to say that “in no other European city would this graceful floating between an
attitude of airy faith and [one of] cosmopolitan skepticism have been thinkable.
212

The absence of any humor with regard to magic seems more prevalent in earlier pieces
that have non-Viennese, usually German, influences. As far as the musical language is
concerned, however, such conclusions are harder to draw because it sometimes retains
the same older and arguably more serious vocabulary even for magical scenes that are
considered humorous. Perhaps the music is telling us something different from the text.

The Supernatural Chorus

Viennese magical operas, especially those from the late eighteenth century, commonly
included choruses sung by supernatural characters. Some of these beings appeared on
stage accompanied by various interesting stage effects, but just as often, such choruses
were performed by off-stage singers, emphasizing an eerie, disembodied effect. Eybler
makes extensive use of the choruses (both supernatural and not) in Das Zauberschwert,
mainly preferring to juxtapose male against female groups rather than combining their
voices. When he does combine the voice ranges, he prefers to keep different texts for the

von Unzulänglichkeiten des anthropomorphen Charakters dieser Vorstellungen.”
Rommel, 814.
212
“In keiner anderen Stadt Europas war dieses anmutvolle Schweben zwischen einer
Haltung lässiger Gläubigkeit und weltläufiger Skepsis denkbar.” Ibid.

172

men and the women, mainly because they are never part of the same group of
characters—so he can have hunters and maidens, or fire spirits and genies, and each
group retains its original and generally contradictory motivation. Whether supernatural or
not, choruses and other grand effects (some of them supernatural), are saved for the
opening and closing scenes of the two acts of the Das Zauberschwert.
The beginning of the opera presents a number of young maidens enjoying an
idyllic day full of natural beauty and singing and without any disturbing male presence.
This Arcadian-influenced scene is interrupted by a male hunting chorus. The music
changes from a pastoral 6/8 with a birdlike, trilling flute, to a more aggressive, 2/4 meter
for the hunting chorus, which is introduced quite traditionally with a pair of horns. From
the beginning of the piece, it is clear that Eybler intends to make use of common musical
tropes to illustrate the story. As the hunters approach the maidens retreat, but not before
the two choruses sing simultaneously with different texts.
The first choral number sung by supernatural characters in Das Zauberschwert
can be found in the Finale of the first act, in which a group of fire spirits responds to its
ruler Zorofos’s summons. The multi-section Finale begins and ends in D minor, one of
the most typical keys used by composers to represent the supernatural. The fire spirits
(marked “Gnomen” in the score) react to Zorofos’s incantation just as the full orchestra,
including forte, accented thirty-second-note chords in the strings, gives way to a thinner
texture. The spirits sing that they are already present, although they cannot be seen
onstage. Eybler contrasts the supernatural chorus, which is made up of male singers, with
another number by the maidens, again in their pastoral 6/8 and in G major. One feature of
Eybler’s music that distinguishes it from that of the other suburban composers is that he

173

does not automatically set the same text to the same music and, related to this, his music
also seems to have more of a discernible structure than do many other pieces in the
repertory of the Theater in der Leopoldstadt. The text of the chorus is also different
between the score and the libretto: When Zorofos invokes his minions he calls them
“Gnomen” in the score but “Sklaven” (slaves) in the libretto, and their designation is also
as gnomes in the score but as an “unsichtbarer, fürchterlicher Chor” (invisible, fearsome
chorus) in the libretto.
The second act employs supernatural choruses in its opening scene, at the point in
the plot when the hero, Gabrino, is trying to figure out whether to stay or leave the place
in which he finds himself. Perhaps the scene owes something to the indecisive-hero
theme so common in opera seria. Delaja, the good fairy, wants Gabrino to stay, and
therefore the audience knows that that would be the right thing to do. But the music
would have made this clear on its own: there is a good chorus and a bad one, trying to
convince Gabrino either to stay or to flee, respectively. The good chorus, consisting only
of female voices, is designated as “Genienchor” in the libretto and as “Mädchenchor” in
the score. The second chorus consists of male voices and is designated simply as “Bass
Chor” in the score but as “Geisterchor” in the libretto. The score was, of course, intended
for rehearsals and performances and not for publication or circulation outside of the
theater, so the more practical distinction between high and low voice parts is more
important than the labeling of good and evil. After initial one-word warnings to flee or
stay from both choirs, the ghost chorus begins its verse, and the menacing alla zoppa
rhythm begins—Eybler seems to view this rhythmic pattern as necessary, especially for
evil supernatural characters, because he uses it in all of their scenes (Example 4.1). The

174

text at this point “Unglück ist Dir hier beschieden,” means “Misfortune will be your
destiny here.”

Example 4.1: Alla zoppa rhythm in a ghost chorus from Act II of Das Zauberschwert,
A-Wst, MH-2692.

When the good chorus sings by itself, Eybler, showing sensitivity to the different
character of the text, uses more peaceful arpeggiated figuration. The ghosts who were
telling Gabrino to leave later turn out to have been Zorofos’s fire spirits fulfilling their
role of luring the hero down the wrong path. At the recapitulation of the text, the alla
zoppa rhythms return in the strings for a slightly confusing-sounding ending in which the
ghosts, the genies (labeled Mädchen Chor in the score), and Gabrino sing simultaneously
(Example 4.2).

Violin I
Violin II
Viola
Bass Chor
Basso
p
p
p
Un glück - - ist Dir hier be schie - den -
p
C
C
C
C
C
&
b
b
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b
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b
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b
b
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œ
œ

175

Example 4.2: Gabrino receives conflicting advice from two choirs, in Das Zauber-
schwert.

The finale of the second act also includes a double chorus, this time of ghosts and
maidens. The libretto indicates that the ghosts should be accompanied by trombones, the
instruments most commonly used to represent the supernatural (also in the religious
sense), particularly in seventeenth- and eighteenth-century music. Eybler obliges with
three trombones, which do not play until the ghosts enter. That the dialogue between the
maidens and two other female characters, one of whom is supernatural (which means that
the key changes to E-flat major when that character sings), is about to be interrupted is
foreshadowed by the alla zoppa rhythms; the text is interrupted midsentence by a
thunderclap and a diminished-seventh chord. Most of this section is in F minor, which
Violin I
Violin II
Viola
Gabrino
Mädchen Chor
Bass Chor
Basso
p
p
p
Ihr Göt ter! - Hö ret - auf mein flehn, sagt soll ich blei ben - o der -
Die Göt ter - hö ren - auf Dein flehn
Wir ra then - Dir von hier zu gehn
p
C
C
C
C
C
C
C
&
b
b
Tempo più adagio
&
b
b
B
b
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176

nineteenth-century writers have described as a lugubrious and funereal key.
213
The three
trombones play in sforzando chords as the ghosts begin singing with the words “Todten
Chöre singen wir” (we are singing choruses of death). Since trombones are also often
associated with death, it is not surprising that they are used in this rather than in the other
supernatural choruses of the piece.
As the Finale continues, Gabrino and his two female companions approach a
monument to a fallen king—a character relevant to the story. In a moment reminiscent of
the graveyard scene in Don Giovanni, they see the inscription on the grave, which reads
“Mein Geist fordert Versöhnung” (My spirit demands reconciliation). Gabrino then
summons the “mortal remains.” This is followed by a number that can be found only in
the score. According to the libretto, the ghost of the dead king appears after a flash of
lightning, but in the score, a chorus appears first and asks Gabrino to speak his desires
(Example 4.3).
Text to the ghost chorus (present only in the score) to the Finale of Act II of Das
Zauberschwert

Sprich!
214
Sollen wir Stürme erregen?
Sprich! Sollen die Winde sich legen?
Sprich! Sollen wir Felsen zerschmettern
und toben in brausenden Wettern?
Speak! Shall we raise storms?
Speak! Shall the winds calm themselves?
Speak! Shall we shatter cliffs
and rollick in the roaring weather?

213
For instance Pietro Lichenthal, in 1826, Henri Weikert in 1827, and Franz Glöggl in
1828. See Rita Steblin, A History of Key Characteristics in the Eighteenth and Early
Nineteenth Centuries, 2nd ed. (Rochester: University of Rochester Press, 2002), 262-64.
214
I have added punctuation for the sake of clarity.

177

Example 4.3: A ghost chorus that is present only in the score of Das Zauberschwert.

The score lists this choir as “Chor der Sklaven,” presumably because the same group of
people sings as a chorus of slaves later on in the Finale. Here it is the text and not the
music that implies that in its first appearance, this choir consists of supernatural creatures
rather than slaves.
Rather than including the usual musical characteristics that are associated with the
supernatural, Eybler uses agitated sixteenth-note patterns in the first violin and in the bass
parts. The other instruments (in the example, I included only the oboes) have simple
dotted-quarter rhythms and later in the piece the strings switch to tremolos. The alla
zoppa rhythm makes a brief appearance when the supernatural female character, Delaja,
implores her companions to remain courageous. In general, Eybler is very sensitive to
°
¢
°
¢
Oboe
Chor der Sklaven
Basso
Sprich
Sprich sol len - die Win de - sich le gen - Sprich
Ob.
Chor
Bs.
sol len - wir Stür me - er re - gen -
sol len - die Win de - sich le gen, -
c
c
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æ
˙

178

using the traditional musical vocabulary associated with the supernatural, and the fact
that he uses alla zoppa figuration for Delaja’s two-measure phrase shows just how
important this is to him.
Although it is not labeled as a finale in either the libretto or the score, the first act
of Kauer’s Das Donauweibchen also includes a supernatural finale with multiple parts
that involve choruses. Hensler sets up a dramatic ending to the first act, in which three
different choirs sing contrasting music. The first of the three is the chorus of nixies,
whose good or evil alignment, paralleling that of their queen, Hulda, is rather unclear. In
this finale, their role is menacing, and Kauer obliges by opening the piece with the full
orchestra in D minor, with alla zoppa patterns alternating with churning sixteenth-note
figures, to set the supernatural scene. The nixies’ purpose here is to punish Käsperle
215

for insulting them by calling them water toads as well as other rude names. The libretto
calls for the appropriate weather effects that tend to portend supernatural events: a
terrible storm with thunder and lightning. The nixies ride the churning waves while
pointing their arrows at Käsperle. The taunting of the sidekick character is, of course, a
common feature in most Viennese operas and plays of this period. True to the old
tradition of the treatment of such characters, including the various incarnations of
Kaspar—the most famous of which is Papageno, Käsperle’s fearfulness is exploited in
this piece and was no doubt a source of amusement for audiences. While the nixies sing,
the accompanying orchestral effects consist mainly of tremolos and a repeated rhythmic
pattern of dotted eighth-notes followed by sixteenth-notes. As in Eybler’s piece, it is in
anticipation of the ghost choir that the alla zoppa rhythm begins. Various sacks that had

215
Other names for this traditional character are Kasperle and Kaspar.

179

previously been lying around the stage become animated and the ghosts emerge from
them, threatening Käsperle and dancing a “Kettentanz” (chain dance) around him. This is
also where the piece lands squarely back on the D-minor tonic, most of the nixies’ music
up to this point having been on the dominant, A major. Kauer also uses two different
simultaneous texts in this finale, as the nixies repeat their warning to Käsperle while the
ghosts are singing. Eventually, after a shift of meter to 6/8 and a key change to D major,
the two choirs unite and the music loses much of its supernatural character. When
Käsperle tries to climb a tree in order to escape this chaotic combined attack on him, the
tree suddenly turns into a windmill, which spins him around and around as he loudly
screams and protests. Whereas the supernatural effects in the music of Eybler’s and
Kauer’s pieces are similar, scenes with humorous features, like the one just described, are
more prevalent in the standard repertory of the suburban theaters than in pieces like Das
Zauberschwert (or for that matter Die Zauberflöte), which tend to restrain the Kasperle
characters’ tendencies toward slapstick. Even though Hensler is the author of both Das
Zauberschwert and Das Donauweibchen, the tone of the two pieces, the former
designated a “romantisch-komisches original Singspiel” and the latter a “romantisch-
komisches Volksmährchen mit Gesang,” differs significantly. At the end of the chorus
from Das Donauweibchen, discussed above, the two choirs unite and make fun of
Kasperle by singing long passages just on the exclamation “ha ha ha.” This is typical of
suburban theater pieces and there are many examples in the repertory involving “ha ha
ha,” “la la la,” or other nonsense syllables. Das Donauweibchen exhibits more of these
tendencies than does Eybler’s piece. It would be useful to know whether or not Hensler
wrote Das Zauberschwert with a composer like Eybler in mind. At the same time, Das

180

Donauweibchen has far fewer slapstick elements than many later pieces written for the
suburban theaters, some of which I will examine below.
The finale of the third act of Das Donauweibchen begins with what would seem
to be the dramatic climax of the piece. Hulda, the queen of the nixies, who as far as the
audience knows is on the warpath, appears at her lover’s wedding, pulls the bridal wreath
from his bride’s head, grabs her lover and sinks into the earth with him. The orchestration
as she performs all of these acts is rather thin, and apart from a few interjections of
tritones by the chorus (which is made up of bystanders both supernatural and not), the
music does not become dramatic until after she disappears. While she sings, the music
modulates from D major through G minor to G major, in order to set up C minor for the
chorus. This chorus is still comprised of the same mix of supernatural beings and humans
and that is perhaps one reason why we do not see the usual keys of D minor or E-flat
major here. Also, Kauer is less consistent than Eybler in assigning these keys to
supernatural events. Regardless of whether the chorus is supernatural or not, the subject
it addresses is the weather, which, particularly when it is bad, is quite often related to the
supernatural, both musically and dramatically. The first violins begin an agitated
sixteenth-note pattern in C minor, alternating surges around the tonic and leading tone
with ascending scales, while the other strings play sustained tremolos (Example 4.4).
When the chorus enters, it sings in augmented sixth chords, with the tenors doubling the
violins for the tritone (Example 4.5).

181

Example 4.4: Opening of the ghost chorus in the Finale of Act III of Das
Donauweibchen, A-Wn, Mus.Hs.25140.

At least in his earlier works, Wenzel Müller also occasionally employs a ghost
chorus. For example in his Die Teufelsmühle am Wienerberg, the text of which was
originally written by Leopold Huber and then adapted by Karl Friedrich Hensler, a ghost
chorus can be found in what was perhaps a traditional place for it: as part of a Finale, this
time of the second act. Here, male and female ghosts dressed up as millers are carrying
sacks of corn and throwing them into the mill. Käsperle is hiding under a table and
watching them. For this “fürchterlicher Chor” (fearsome choir) Müller chooses the
traditional key of D minor but employs a rhythmic pattern of alternating a quarter with
two eighths, rather than alla zoppa. He is not particularly sensitive to the text, and there is
no change in the music when a terrible storm is described. Käsperle, who is still under the
table, witnesses the ghosts suddenly becoming happy and talking about flying away from
where they are. Müller writes additional music that, according to the score, accompanies
Käsperle’s fervent (and spoken rather than sung) wish to be elsewhere. This is essentially
a Melodram technique, and one can see Müller and other composers begin using it more
Timpani
Violin I
Violin II
Viola
Contrabass
c
c
c
c
c
?
&
b
b
b
&
b
b
b
B
b
b
b
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æ
˙

182

frequently in works from the 1810s and 1820s. At this point the choir is labeled “Geister-
Chor” in the libretto; the music for the choir progresses mainly in simple quarter notes,

Example 4.5: The chorus singing about the stormy weather in in the Finale of Act III of
Das Donauweibchen.

Violin I
Violin II
Viola
Choir
Contrabass
Der Don ner - -
Vln. I
Vln. II
Vla.
Choir
Cb.
rollt. Die Er de -
C
C
C
C
C
C
&
b
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‰

183

and the orchestral accompaniment is also quite minimal, except for some tremolos when
the ghosts invite Käsperle to come and fly over mountains and valleys with them. The
table under which Käsperle is hiding turns into a miller’s donkey and he is able to ride
away on it—this is the end of the second act. Clearly, the role of the ghosts and their
significance to the work are markedly different here from their function in the other
pieces discussed above.
The Finale of the fourth act of Die Teufelsmühle includes ghost choruses that are
woven into a structure with other choruses, and several passages of Melodram. Male
voices encourage the antagonist, Kilian, also known as the “Teufelsmüller,” as he stands
at his wife’s grave. The ghosts tell him that he will find peace there (he is the one who
killed his wife), and that he will fulfill his destiny. The music is in C major, with very
little movement rhythmically or melodically—it is written entirely in quarter notes, and
the voice parts seem to mainly repeat notes and occasionally move up or down without
any melodic line. It is almost as though Müller is aiming for a particularly monotonous
effect. The choice of key also seems unusual for ghosts, if not for peaceful moments or
perhaps ones of repentance (Example 4.6).
216
During another Melodram section Kilian
begins his descent into the grave; the choir begins anew, this time in C minor, singing
about horrific gales, thunder and lightning. Thunder is called for both in the score and in
the libretto, the orchestration is fuller, and the rhythmic motion of the voices is more
active, with alternating quarter and eighth notes. Melodically the voice parts do not move

216
C major has many characteristics, but simplicity, innocence, purity are among the
most common ones mentioned by mid-nineteenth-century writers such as Ferdinand
Hand (1837) and Gustav Schilling (1835-36). The use of this key by Mozart in the
graveyard scene of Don Giovanni, where it evokes peace in the middle of an otherwise
frightening environment, is also mentioned by both of these writers. See Rita Steblin, A
History of Key Characteristics in the Eighteenth and Early Nineteenth Centuries, 226-30.

184

Example
4.6:
Excerpt from the Finale of Act IV of Die Teufelsmühle am
Wienerberge by
Karl
Friedrich
Hensler
and
Wenzel
Müller,
D-‐F,

Mus
Hs
Opern
412
(1).

much more than a third. At the climactic moment when Kilian is struck dead by
lightning, Müller writes three diminished chords. The third chord is played only by the
winds and is followed by just C and E-flat, played and held for a fermata by the oboes. It
is clear that Müller never received the type of training that Eybler did, and his sometimes
hastily written scores confirm the perception that he was under pressure to quickly
produce new pieces. Still, his sense of the dramatic potential of these supernatural scenes
seems to have been even more limited than that of his composer colleagues in the
suburban theaters.

The Changing Role of Ghosts

The standard magical repertory of the Viennese suburban theaters between 1795 and
1830 did not include ghost choruses nearly as frequently as did the works owing more to
°
¢
°
¢
Violin I
Violin II
Choir
Contrabass
Ru he - winkt im dü stern - Grab, auf voll zie - he - dei ne - Pflicht
c
c
c
c
c
&
&
?
?
?
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˙
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œ
œ
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
˙
˙
œ
œ
œ
œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
Œ
œ œ œ
œ
œ
œ
œ Œ
œ œ œ œ œ œ œ
Œ
œ œ œ
œ
œ œ œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ
œ
Œ

185

older traditions, discussed above. Karl Meisl and composer Franz Joseph Volkert’s Das
Gespenst auf der Bastei from 1819 includes the formerly ubiquitous invisible choir, but
rather than issuing dire warnings as is usually its function, it consoles the main character,
Marie, reassuring her that she will eventually find a man. The more important individual
ghost in this piece is a decidedly silly character who asks Marie for a kiss before he
leaves earth and who, when he cries, wipes his nose with a handkerchief that is decorated
with skulls (Figure 4.5).
If the works by composers such as Wenzel Müller or Joseph Drechsler contained
ghosts at all, they were more likely to be single individuals who seem, especially in later
works, to have had an increasingly didactic role to play. Der Berggeist oder Die drey
Wünsche from 1819, by librettist Joseph Alois Gleich and composer Josef Drechsler, for
example, is called a “Bekehrungsstück” (conversion piece) by Rommel—the first of a
group of magical pieces that represent what he sees as a return to a more serious, almost
educational role for supernatural characters.
In Der Berggeist, the title character (the mountain ghost) offers a wealthy and
successful yet dissatisfied man named Mismuth (meaning “ill-humored”) three wishes,
the granting of which the latter thinks will solve his problems. The ghost’s role is to
guide Mismuth through the inevitably negative consequences of his wishes to be loved by
all women, to be immeasurably wealthy, and to live for an abnormally long time.
Ultimately, the ghost represents a benevolent, godlike figure who displays righteous
wrath when necessary. Much earlier examples of this kind of Faustian plotline are in
Wenzel Müller’s Der Alte überall und nirgends, which is another adaptation, from 1796,
by Hensler of a ghost story by Spiess, and Die Teufelsmühle am Wienerberg, from 1799.

186

The ghost Aziel in Der Alte überall und nirgends gives the main character, Hohenstaufen
(a beloved character in the Theater in der Leopoldstadt—see Chapter 3), the power to be
everywhere and to inhabit the bodies of any animal or person. The purpose of this is to
give Hohenstaufen a chance to do good during his second sojourn on earth, but the
ultimate moral is that a human being can never understand all of the positive and negative
consequences that result from his actions. Die Teufelsmühle am Wienerberg is unusual in
that the ghost, Jeriel, serves both as the voice of destiny (like the Commendatore in Don
Giovanni) when the bad character Kilian dies on stage (see above) and as a participant in
comic scenes with Käsperle. Although Jeriel comments in asides on Käsperle’s unwise
actions and sometimes even indicates that he will be punished for them, when he
participates in scenes with the clownish character, he simultaneously illustrates the two
main functions of ghosts in Viennese magical operas: either they are silly and not to be
taken seriously, or they have real powers that can affect the lives of human beings.
Wenzel Müller wrote the music to both of these pieces, and, as discussed above, he
generally put less effort into portraying supernatural effects than did some of his
colleagues. In Der Berggeist, Drechsler is more likely than Müller to allow for repetitions
of text for the sake of the music and to extend dramatic moments in various ways. For
example, he uses a number of held suspensions to illustrate the word “Tod” and brings in
the alla zoppa rhythm immediately before the word, intensifying it by having the violin
sections play it divisi. This effectively portrays the righteous wrath and the power of the
ghost. Of course, this type of musical illustration or text painting is much scorned

187

Figure 4.5: Scene from Das Gespenst auf der Bastei, in which the ghost hangs the moon.
Adolf Bäuerle, “Gallerie drolliger und interessanter Scenen,” Vienna, 1827,
13-24.

by later critics, for example, Eduard Hanslick, who disliked programmatic music. Here
Hanslick shows disdain for the musical style of one of the most popular Viennese
magical operas: “Ferdinand Kauer, the composer of Das Donauweibchen, who does not
shrink from the musical description even of the slightest detail . . . ”
217

The attitudes of other, generally human, characters toward ghosts helps to
illuminate the roles of the supernatural creatures. In Die Teufelsmühle am Wienerberg,

217
“Ferdinand Kauer, dem Componisten des ‘Donauweibchen,’ der vor der
musikalischen Shilderung auch des geringsten Details nicht zurückschreckte . . .” Eduard
Hanslick, Geschichte des Concertwesens in Wien (Vienna: Kraumüller, 1869), 171.

188

Käsperle, responding to a ghost story, sings a song about how he would prefer not to
spend any time with ghosts. A Kasperle-type character, is of course, standard in Viennese
opera, and so is his cowardice. Beginning with the earliest Kasperle pieces, he is
generally afraid of anything he cannot understand (which is almost everything) and he
has a propensity for bursting into tears at odd moments. In early nineteenth-century
magical operas, Kasperle’s fear of the supernatural is even more unfounded because the
ghosts themselves are made to look ridiculous to the audience—that is at least until the
trend of the above-mentioned Bekehrungsstück begins. But even in these more serious
pieces, the days of actually frightening an audience with supernatural beings or effects
were long gone. In the same aria Käsperle mentions that he prefers “ghosts” of flesh and
blood.
Text from Käsperle’s aria in Act I of Die Teufelsmühle am Wienerberg
Die Geister von Fleisch und von Blut
Die meynens mit einem noch gut.
Sie suchen Erlösung in unserem Arm,
Da wird ein’m so wunderlich, wird ein’m
so warm.
Da bin ich auch, sey’s, wie es sey,
Gleich bey dem Erlösen dabey!
Ghosts of flesh and blood,
they actually mean well.
They seek salvation on our arm,
and one feels so odd and one gets so warm.

Then I too, be as it may,
will promptly help with the salvation!

There are some ghosts, like the Teufelsmüller’s murdered wife, who roam the earth
seeking salvation, however this is not as common in the Viennese magical operas I
examined as, say, in British ghost stories.
It is difficult to say what Käsperle means in some of the more physically
affectionate-seeming lines—the heavily marked libretto I used has parentheses around the
last three, perhaps implying that their content was questionable and to be avoided.
218

218
A-Wst, A-153998, Ex. 2.

189

Parentheses are commonly found in such places in these librettos, and they probably
indicate a form of self-censorship or just revisions undertaken by theater personnel. The
sexual appeal of supernatural creatures is more evident in the Donauweibchen pieces, in
which the hero has, unbeknownst to him, conceived a child with Hulda, the nixie of the
Danube. It is not a long leap then from sexual attraction to a non-human type of “other”
to blaming the female character for it. As far as Albrecht, the male lead in Das
Donauweibchen, is concerned, the liaison is most certainly Hulda’s fault because she
seduced him with her “üppige Liebe” (voluptuous love). Although Hulda is not actually a
ghost, but a nixie, the character Minnewart nevertheless makes this connection in Das
Donauweibchen zweyter Theil. Chiding Albrecht for his affair and calling him a ghost
lover, he explains that such relationships are built upon sand, and that ghosts cannot be
trusted. His last verse also discusses ghosts of flesh and blood, presumably like Hulda,
who just want to be released. The word “erlöset” can either mean “released” in any sense,
or “redeemed.”
Text from Minnewart’s aria in Act I of Das Donauweibchen zweyter Theil

The connection between the supernatural and female fidelity, in particular the lack
thereof, is quite easily made in these pieces. In Die Teufelsmühle am Wienerberg, one
character tells the story of the Teufelsmüller who murdered his wife because she was

219
“Bein” is “leg” in German, but even in a literal translation this would not have been
appropriate. In this case, “Bein” could also have been meant as a part of “Gebein” which
means “bones” or “mortal remains.”
Bey Geistern kommt nicht viel heraus,
Es ist ein Jammer und ein Graus —
Doch Geister, so von Fleisch und Bein,
Die wollen gleich erlöset seyn.
Nothing much comes out with ghosts,
it is a shame and a horror —
but ghosts who are of flesh and bone
219

they want to be redeemed now.

190

unfaithful to him; she now roams the earth as a ghost seeking salvation, and he can only
be released from his punishment by a faithful woman. The moral of the aria is that
women’s faithfulness can be blown away like sand by the wind. In Der Alte überall und
nirgends, one character sings an aria making fun of ghosts and saying that he does not
believe in them. The point of this aria is to say that women’s lack of fidelity (a subject to
which the aria suddenly switches) can always be blamed on a ghost.
Finally, in those pieces that take ghosts more seriously, the Bekehrungsstücke,
there is a recurring type of ghost, who is a kind of protector of women and who avenges
the ones that have been wronged by men. This is the case in Sylphide by Therese Krones
and Joseph Drechsler from 1828. Here, a benevolent ghost protects women by taking
revenge on their unfaithful husbands. The same theme can also be found in Der
Berggeist, in which a character sings about a ghost who used to help women a hundred
years ago. The text is about a wicked man, who, in trying to seduce another man’s wife,
incited the ire of a ghost who was the self-proclaimed protector of women and of
marriage. The final verse of the aria reads:
Text from Klaus’s aria in Act I of Der Berggeist
Schnell ward der Geist zur Schreckgestalt,

faßt rasch den Buben mit Gewalt,
und rief: Für dein begehrtes Glück
brech Bösewicht ich dir das Genick.
Suddenly the ghost became a figure of
horror,
grabbed the boy quickly with violence
and cried: for your desired bliss,
evildoer, I break your neck.

The score has a different version of this text, which may or may not be due to censorship.

Text as it appears in the score of Klaus’s aria from Act I of Der Berggeist

191

Schnell ward der Geist zur Schreckgestalt,

faßt rasch den Buben mit Gewalt
und rief: für dein Begehrn und Spott,
sey Bösewicht dein Loos der Tod.
Suddenly the ghost became a figure of
horror,
grabbed the boy quickly with violence
and cried: for your desire and mockery
evildoer, let death be your lot.

The first text may have been considered too violent, especially in the 1820s and 1830s.
One libretto I examined has paper pasted over the aria and a milder summary of its
content in prose.
220
The booklet does not show a printed date, but it was censored in 1839
and again for the city of Linz in 1851. All musical features of the work have been excised
in this libretto, indicating that the work was performed as a play rather than as a
“Zauberspiel mit Gesang.” For this reason the pasting over of the aria was most likely not
an act of censorship. Still, the handwritten prose, presenting a less violent description of
the ghost, means that there was concern for toning down such content, possibly before
presenting the work to the censor.

Conclusion

Both musically and in terms of stage effects, the appearances or entrances of supernatural
characters as well as their casting of spells or summoning their minions have the most
dramatic potential. However, the musical vocabulary for such supernatural incidents
varies less than the treatment of those moments in the text. In general, most of the
composers working at the suburban Viennese theaters in the early nineteenth century
seem to have employed a limited set of musical tropes dating from earlier theater music.
From his surviving scores, it appears that Wenzel Müller was either not as interested in

220
A-Wst, A-24668

192

using these techniques as some of the other composers or simply too busy to try to
musically illustrate supernatural scenes. His settings, especially in the less well-known
works, are very sparse, and this seems to be relatively consistent throughout his long
career, regardless of the librettist’s approach, serious or not, to the supernatural.
The treatment of the supernatural in Viennese operas of the late eighteenth and
early nineteenth centuries varies depending on individual composers and librettists and
also depending on popular trends. Particularly in the 1820s, when almost every opera at
the suburban theaters had the word “Zauber” in its description, the supernatural was dealt
with in a less serious manner, with the exception of the trend of “Bekehrungsstücke,” in
which a main supernatural character usually took on a didactic role. Collections of
excerpted pieces from these operas tended not to include the supernatural numbers, which
suggests their relative irrelevance to the audience. One remaining question is why
magical operas continued to be produced in such large quantities. Perhaps it was simply
the preference of librettists, composers, or theater directors, but probably, it was also
audiences’ predilection for impressive sets and effects that kept the production of
“Zauber” pieces high. In addition to the changing, sometimes diminishing importance of
the music and the dramaturgy to the Viennese audience, their treatment in a supernatural
context by composers and librettists and the handling of the supernatural characters
between the late eighteenth and early nineteenth centuries represent an interesting
cultural phenomenon and encapsulate some of the tendencies that set Vienna apart from
other German-speaking centers.

193

Epilogue

While Viennese magical operas were popular throughout German-speaking areas,
German critics were not any more forgiving of their perceived shortcomings than were
Viennese ones. The Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung reporting about Müller’s Die
Teufelsmühle am Wienerberge in 1803, complains:
Another decoration and machinery piece is Die Teufelsmühle, from the Marinelli
Theater in Vienna, with music by Wenzel Müller. It is a pendant to Das
Donauweibchen and also based on a folk tale, which, as in the former, is actually
very interesting, but also just as corrupted by the execution of the poet. Precisely
the really frightening point of the fable is so hidden by a lot of clumsily ordered
side events, that it probably largely eludes the audience. About Müller’s music,
there is nothing to say, other than that he is completely true to himself.
221

What the reviewer means by this insult to Müller is, of course, that his music is
exceedingly simple. He goes on to write that the local music director tried to add interest
to the music by adding some canons of his own. It is useful to consider how the Viennese
repertory fits into the broader context of German-language magical opera. Earlier works
such as Der Spiegelritter by Ignaz Walter and August Kotzebue, which had its premiere
in Frankfurt in 1791, actually tried to emulate Viennese magical works. Kotzebue was
trying to write his libretto in a more popular style and, as Thomas Bauman points out, he

221
“Ein anderes Dekorations- und Maschinenstück ist die Teufelsmühle, vom
Marinellischen Theater in Wien, mit Musik von Wenzel Müller. Es ist ein Seitenstück
zum Donauweibchen, und ebenfalls nach einer Volkssage, die, wie dort, an sich sehr
interessant, aber auch in der Ausführung des Dichters eben so verdorben ist. Gerade die
wirklich schauderhafte Pointe der Fabel ist durch eine Menge ungeschickt geordneter
Nebendinge so versteckt, dass sie wohl dem grössten Theil der Zuschauer versteckt
bleibt. Ueber Müllers Musik ist nichts zu sagen, als dass er sich selbst ganz treu
geblieben ist.” Allgemeine musikalische Zeitung 5 (January 5, 1803), 250-51.

194

“provides generously for all the musical trappings the subject could possibly endure.”
222

The piece includes some overt lewd references that would almost certainly have been
problematic for Hägelin. The music is generally more thickly orchestrated, with more
complex interactions between choral parts than in the Viennese repertory I examined,
which often had a minimal orchestra and simple, homorhythmic parts for the chorus.
Buch observes that the music of the magician and the giant in Der Spiegelritter is no
different from that of the other characters, in other words, that the music does not
illustrate supernatural effects.
223
In contrast with the librettists of the earlier Viennese
works I examined, Kotzebue has no trouble making fun of the magician character by
writing, for instance:

The music also makes light of this supernatural character in the manner that only the later
Viennese operas I studied do. One section of the finale of the opera has an extended
passage making fun of the sorcerer’s silly name, Burudusussusu, by repeating it over and
over again.
Other earlier works such as Johann Rudolph Zumsteeg and Friedrich Wilhelm
Gotter’s Die Geisterinsel, based on Shakespeare’s The Tempest, have dramatic musical
moments including those weather effects that are tied to the supernatural. One number in

222
Thomas Bauman, North German Opera in the Age of Goethe (Cambridge: Cambridge
University Press, 1985), 277.
223
Buch, 313.
224
Der Spiegelritter, Act III.

Der alte böse Zauberer
That nur vergebens schmunzeln,
Er war so häßlich als ein Bär,
Und hatte tiefe Runzeln.
The old, evil sorcerer
just smirked in vain,
he was as ugly as a bear
and had deep wrinkles.
224

195

this piece is labeled as a ghost pantomime and includes standard supernatural musical
features such as tremolos and dotted rhythms, although the overall affect is not a
frightening one because the dramatic opening alternates with peaceful wind sections.
Ghost choruses in this piece distinguish themselves in that they are accompanied only by
minimal winds or are sung a capella, but their overall affect is peaceful, even sacred-
sounding. This piece was criticized by contemporary writers for not being enough of a
spectacle.
225
A later work such as Amira, Königin der Feen, that was first performed in
Frankfurt in 1808, with music by Karl Friedrich Ebers and a libretto by Christoph
Friedrich Bretzner, also has some features that I did not find in the Viennese pieces I
considered. The fairies in Amira are flirtatious and sing about capturing men’s hearts for
their amusement. The score is thickly orchestrated, and the dramatic, C-minor duet in
which the sorcerer Muzilio violently threatens his former love interest, Laura, includes
horns, trumpets, timpani, and those popular supernatural instruments, trombones.
Muzilio’s invocations of his ghostly minions include references to the “Schwefelreich”
(the realm of brimstone), and in general, the whole opera refers more often and more
directly to hell than do theViennese works I discussed. As I mentioned in Chapter 1,
these German works may have been censored less strictly or at least in a different manner
than were Viennese pieces in Vienna.
Although censorship still exists in various countries around the world, to many of
us in the twenty-first century, the very idea of censorship is abhorrent and being
subjected to it inconceivable. But in the considerably different world of nineteenth-
century Vienna, it was a natural, indeed quite mundane part of life. In the first chapter,

225
Bauman, 312.

196

my discovery of Franz Karl Hägelin’s 1795 censorship directive and the subsequent
finding that important sections of it had been left out by Karl Glossy help to provide a
more complete understanding of the world of theatrical censorship and how it affected
the content of works written at the time and afterwards. The ways in which different
censors treated the works under their care are distinguishable from one another, and
Hägelin had a lighter touch than the censors who followed him in the nineteenth century
because, more than his successors, he was interested in preserving the flow of pieces and
took pains to keep storylines and dialogue coherent.
When Hägelin censored famous works like Don Juan, during the twilight of his
career, he succumbed, as I discuss in the second chapter, to the more reactionary
impulses of a changing society that forced him to take a more heavy-handed approach to
his profession. The censor of Der 30-jährige ABC-Schütz, some thirty years later,
exhibits the by then well-entrenched practice of removing entire characters and large
portions of works, with little or no regard for the quality of the resulting product. Only
the music remained relatively unscathed by this process. Since censors generally did not
deal with scores, music could potentially carry subversive content to the audience,
allowing singers and players to emphasize it as they saw fit. It is interesting to speculate
on the idea that instrumental music may have been the safest haven in Vienna for artistic
expression unfettered by governmental control.
Parodies were another way of circumventing censors, although many of the jokes
they presented seem, at least on the surface, relatively tame. The two parodies of Die
Zauberflöte that I examined in Chapter 3 are good examples of what audiences found
amusing, and included what they may have deemed to be relevant social commentary.

197

The overwhelming ideology of such pieces is often rather conservative, reflecting an
audience that was suspicious of innovations, wary of outsiders, and critical, yet ultimately
adulatory of the city of Vienna and its inhabitants. Often, it is the Papageno-like
characters, the Shakespearean fools of their day, who are the communicators of such
philosophies.
As we have seen in Chapter 2, the messages carried by music and text often differ
from one another, and this is also true for the representations of magic in Viennese operas
from the early nineteenth century, the subject of my fourth chapter. The musical
vocabulary that many composers used to illustrate supernatural scenes generally follows
a prescribed set of tropes that came from earlier traditions, for instance from some more
serious operatic works of the eighteenth century. As a result, the music may express more
gravity than does the text, which, in some cases, even ridicules the supernatural
characters themselves. But the treatment of magic in texts and the way audiences
understood magic had changed by the nineteenth century, and the fact that it was no
longer considered a serious matter creates an interesting dichotomy with the music, one
for which the composers of the suburban theaters seem not to have found new modes of
expression.
Relying heavily on primary sources of various kinds was the only way to
adequately discuss my chosen topics, but even when considering subjects that have
already been written about, such as Hägelin’s evaluations of theatrical works or the
singspiel version of Don Juan, it became clear that a return to the primary sources was
necessary. As we have seen in the analysis of nineteenth-century scholar Karl Glossy’s
treatment of Hägelin’s censorship directive, the very unreliability of such work can be

198

interesting in its own right—a sympathetic consideration of the social factors surrounding
older scholarship is of greater value than simply criticizing it. While most modern
scholars attempt to approach their subjects respectfully and without judgment, our work
is surely also affected by biases and unwarranted assumptions, some of which may only
be realized generations from now. This somewhat sobering thought should give us pause
and make us consider our own scholarly constraints and limitations.
Taking the four chapers as a whole, it becomes clear that the study of many scores
and librettos, of countless administrative memos and government ordinances, reveals a
common element. That element is the people attending the suburban theaters, those
audiences who, consciously or not, shaped the magical repertoire and prompted the
machinations of the censorship office. I do not wish to romanticize the lower classes who
attended the suburban theaters; indeed the lowest classes would not have been able to
afford to go, and furthermore, as Müller’s Spielplan reports, aristocrats and even the
imperial family attended performances in these houses. Still, the majority of the audience
was composed of “ordinary” people seeking entertainment. There is always more extant
material on politically powerful and historically important figures than on the countless
people who lived and died without distinguishing themselves in ways that could be
discovered by scholars, so learning about them can be a difficult task. Their preferred
forms of theater and music inform us about their daily lives, their humor, and their
struggles against authority. The relevance of censorship to the shaping of the works I
considered here can be seen in the continuous cycle of authors writing to entertain the
public, censors curtailing this material, authors trying to circumvent censors by rewriting
the material using different words, and audiences most likely enjoying this game.

199

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Abstract (if available)

Abstract Theatrical works in late eighteenth- and early nineteenth-century Vienna were required to pass through a process of censorship before they could be performed in front of audiences. The criteria by which pieces were judged changed significantly during this period, and the dissertation shows how complex bureaucratic shifts affected censorship and theater personnel as well as the works themselves. As there is little recent scholarship on Viennese theatrical censorship, several manuscript sources are used in order to arrive at a better understanding of the subject. The discovery of an important censorship document written by the theater censor Franz Karl Hägelin fills gaps in our knowledge about censorship procedures and theatrical practices and illuminates the problems in scholarship of continued reliance upon nineteenth-century sources such as the publication, from 1897, of this document. ❧ The intersection of magical opera and censorship is particularly relevant to the politically turbulent period under consideration. One reason for which magical operas flourished, especially in the suburban theaters in Vienna, may have been that the authorities considered their content to be innocuous and useful for distracting audiences from the more pressing issues of the time. The four chapters of the dissertation treat the subjects of censorship and magical operas in various ways: in the first, a focus on manuscript sources that deal with censorship shows their implications for our current knowledge of the field. The second chapter is a case study of two works that were censored during different periods and how their music and their librettos were affected. In the third chapter, an examination of two parodies of Mozart and Schikaneder's ""Die Zauberflöte"" demonstrates how they reflect Viennese society of the time, and in the fourth chapter, a consideration of the role of the supernatural in several largely unknown magical operas that were popular during their time illuminates changes in attitude toward this subject and how they are reflected differently in the music and in the text. In its investigation of the musical and theatrical tastes of the lower classes of Viennese society and of how the government tried to influence and control them, the dissertation contributes to our knowledge in the fields of cultural studies and musicology.

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Asset Metadata

Creator de Alwis, Lisa (author)

Core Title Censorship and magical opera in early nineteenth-century Vienna

School Thornton School of Music

Degree Doctor of Philosophy

Degree Program Music (Historical Musicology)

Publication Date 11/27/2012

Defense Date 10/23/2012

Publisher University of Southern California (original), University of Southern California. Libraries (digital)

Tag censorship,Die Zauberflöte,Don Juan,OAI-PMH Harvest,opera,parody,Singspiel,The Magic Flute,Vienna

Language English

Contributor Electronically uploaded by the author (provenance)

Advisor Brown, Bruce Alan (committee chair), Buch, David J. (committee member), Page, Tim (committee member), Simms, Bryan R. (committee member)

Creator Email Ldealwis@gmail.com,ldealwis@yahoo.com

Permanent Link (DOI) https://doi.org/10.25549/usctheses-c3-121247

Unique identifier UC11292502

Identifier usctheses-c3-121247 (legacy record id)

Legacy Identifier etd-deAlwisLis-1350.pdf

Dmrecord 121247

Document Type Dissertation

Rights de Alwis, Lisa

Type texts

Source University of Southern California (contributing entity), University of Southern California Dissertations and Theses (collection)

Access Conditions The author retains rights to his/her dissertation, thesis or other graduate work according to U.S. copyright law. Electronic access is being provided by the USC Libraries in agreement with the a...

Repository Name University of Southern California Digital Library

Repository Location USC Digital Library, University of Southern California, University Park Campus MC 2810, 3434 South Grand Avenue, 2nd Floor, Los Angeles, California 90089-2810, USA