Carlisle Floyd’s most epic and ambitious opera, THE PASSION OF JONATHAN WADE originally premiered at New York City Opera in 1962. It tells the (fictional) story of a Union officer sent to administer the city of Charleston, SC in 1865. He weds the daughter of a local judge and hopes to use his position to heal the wounds of the Civil War. But between profiteering Northern carpetbaggers, on one side, and a proto-KKK group called “the Guardian Knights of White Men’s Rights” on the other, Colonel Wade’s work comes to naught and he is killed in the crossfire between the two groups. Floyd’s opera languished for years following its world premiere, until Floyd revised it, in the late ‘80s, encouraged by David Gockley and John DeMain of Houston Grand Opera. The revised version premiered in Houston in 1991 and thence traveled to Miami, San Diego, and Seattle. The Seattle performances were directed by Floyd himself, conducted by Hal France, and performed on a set designed by Gunther Schneider-Siemssen.

THE PASSION OF JONATHAN WADE

Jonathan Wade, tragic hero of Carlisle Floyd’s opera, explains the origin of his pacifism in a passionate aria he sings early on in the opera to the frosty Celia Townsend, who falls in love with him as he sings. Andersonville was the overcrowded Confederate prison in Georgia where some 13,000 Union POWs died of scurvy, diarrhea, dysentery, and other causes. 

JONATHAN WADE:
For four years I felt drowned in blood,
Suffocated by the stench of death.
I witnessed the slaughter of thousands of men
But nothing affected me,
Affected me as much,
As something that happened at Andersonville.
I was three months in that prison,
Three months before I escaped,
And while I was there, while I was there
I was forced to watch a hanging. 
The man with the noose around his neck
Was just a boy, barely nineteen.
I knew his age because I knew the boy:
He was my youngest brother. 
My feet and hands were shackled with chains
And a rifle was held at my head.
And all I could do was stand helplessly by,
All I could do was stand helplessly by. 
Butchery and terror, slaughter, and tears:
These are the things of which war is made.
Well, I have made a solemn vow to God
That I will never fight again.
I’ll spend all the passion in me
To fight for peace,
But never again will I be charged
With the death of another man.
Never again...never again. 

Sung by Dale Duesing; Hal France conducts the orchestra of Seattle Opera. Photo by Jim Caldwell.

PASSION OF JONATHAN WADE Jonathan Wade Remembers Andersonville

Caught in the crossfire between Union soldiers and a Southern vigilante group called “the Guardian Knights of White Men’s Rights,” Jonathan Wade is shot in his own home as he prepares to flee the South forever. He kisses his wife Celia, then dies in her arms; the various groups of armed men are still quarreling when she shuts them all up with her final vocal explosion.

ENOCH PRATT: 
Which of you killed Colonel Wade?

JUDGE TOWNSEND:
None of us; we came for Wardlaw.
Which of you shot Colonel Wade?

ENOCH PRATT (indicating the Union soldiers):
We were here to arrest him.
None of these men fired a shot.

JUDGE TOWNSEND (indicating the Guardian Knights):
Nor these.

SOLDIERS & KNIGHTS
You killed him. It was one of you!
We heard the shot you fired.
We heard it too.
You rebels came to kill him.
You were already here!
You killed Colonel Wade; it was one of you!
His blood is on your hands. Murderers!

CELIA: 
Silence, silence!
Not another word from a one of you!
A good and decent man is dead;
What does it matter now who fired the shot?
You all killed him! You are all his murderers!
So get out! Get out of here!

Sung by James Hoback (Enoch Pratt), Julian Patrick (Judge Townsend), and Alison England (Celia Townsend); Hal France conducts the orchestra and chorus of Seattle Opera. Photo by Gary Smith.

PASSION OF JONATHAN WADE Death Of Jonathan Wade

Despite the disapproval of her father, Judge Townsend, who lost his job thanks to Jonathan Wade’s administration, Celia admits she has fallen in love with the dashing Northerner who has taken over her city of Charleston, SC as Reconstruction begins after the Civil War. 

CELIA TOWNSEND:
My face has lost its mourning veil;
Has my heart also lost its shroud?
Has this stranger come to deliver me,
To take my grief away?
His hands were strong and tender
And his eyes were merciful eyes.
And when his hands held my trembling hands,
Held both my hands for that brief moment,
I felt the wound of grief in my heart,
The dark, deep bitter wound of grief,
Stop aching, stop aching,
As if at last it were going to heal. 
Oh, Jonathan, Jonathan Wade!
Where did you come from? Why were you sent? 
Do I dare let go my grief?
Do I dare remove this veil?
Oh, merciful God, a sudden joy
Has flared up inside me
Like a leaping, hungry flame. 
Will it burn the shroud of my grief,
And make ashes of all my fears?
Shall I resolve to live again,
To open my life, my heart once more?
Has this stranger come to deliver me?
An alchemist has touched my grief.
Will he turn it into joy?

Sung by Alison England; Hal France conducts the orchestra of Seattle Opera. Photo by Matthew McVay.

PASSION OF JONATHAN WADE Celia’s Aria

Julian Patrick gave us many wonderful opera characters at Seattle Opera over the course his 32-years singing with the company; but surely one of the characters closest to his own experience, as a native of the deep South, was proud Southern gentleman Judge Townsend in THE PASSION OF JONATHAN WADE. In the opera’s first aria, the Judge welcomes to the Townsend home Jonathan Wade, the Union army officer appointed to lead the occupation of Charleston, SC, and gently deplores the barbarism of war. 

JUDGE TOWNSEND:
Sherman quartered his officers here.
I wish that you might have come to our home
Before misfortune visited us.
Here, on this wall, there hung a painting,
A painting which I prized very much. 
But Sherman’s soldiers drank too much
And were careless with their bayonets.
Here on this table lay a marble top,
And on the marble stood a Chinese vase:
A vase cherished a thousand years.
But Sherman’s men drank too much
And failed to cherish such things.
Here lay a Persian rug and here was a tapestry,
And here was a Broadwood grand,
My wedding gift to my wife,
But Sherman’s soldiers drank too much
And music meant very little to them.
They ground cigars in its rosewood case
And poured whisky over its strings. 
I had spent a lifetime collecting fine things;
I had searched all of Europe time and again
And paid dearly for such treasures as these,
And in only three days it was all destroyed, 
Destroyed by reckless, vengeful brutes!
Destroyed without apology,
Destroyed without a word of regret,
One word of regret!

Sung by Julian Patrick; Hal France conducts the orchestra of Seattle Opera. Photo by Gary Smith.

PASSION OF JONATHAN WADE “Sherman Quartered His Officers Here”

Founded in 1963, Seattle Opera is a leading American opera company. The company presents the classics of the European repertoire as well as new works of American opera. Frequent productions of Wagner's RING, beginning in 1975, established the company's worldwide reputation. Seattle Opera usually presents five opera productions each year.