Death
On 13 March 1848 the first riots erupted in Vienna and in April amid the general confusion, the Gesellschaft der Musikfreunde closed suddenly, stopping all payments, and even refusing to pay the salary owed for the last six months. Parish Alvars found himself in serious financial straits. He could not travel to other cities or countries, as they were experiencing similar political difficulties; he had lost most of his pupils, who, as members of noble families, had left town out of fear; musical life had stopped, and the Hofoperntheater burnt down.
During this troubled period, which reached a climax in October, Parish Alvars and his family found refuge in Leopoldstadt, on the outskirts of Vienna (now a part of the city). They lived at Jägerzeile No. 53, on the first floor. On 21 November 1848 he borrowed a hundred florins from his friend and editor August Artaria. His health suddenly worsened, and he died of pneumonia (the documents are, however, not clear on this point) on 25 January 1849. His wife returned with their daughter to London.
Read more about this topic: Elias Parish Alvars
Famous quotes containing the word death:
“The grief of the keen is no personal complaint for the death of one woman over eighty years, but seems to contain the whole passionate rage that lurks somewhere in every native of the island. In this cry of pain the inner consciousness of the people seems to lay itself bare for an instant, and to reveal the mood of beings who feel their isolation in the face of a universe that wars on them with winds and seas.”
—J.M. (John Millington)
“Human life consists in mutual service. No grief, pain, misfortune, or “broken heart,” is excuse for cutting off one’s life while any power of service remains. But when all usefulness is over, when one is assured of an unavoidable and imminent death, it is the simplest of human rights to choose a quick and easy death in place of a slow and horrible one.”
—Charlotte Perkins Gilman (1860–1935)
“There are confessable agonies, sufferings of which one can positively be proud. Of bereavement, of parting, of the sense of sin and the fear of death the poets have eloquently spoken. They command the world’s sympathy. But there are also discreditable anguishes, no less excruciating than the others, but of which the sufferer dare not, cannot speak. The anguish of thwarted desire, for example.”
—Aldous Huxley (1894–1963)