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  LOUIS SPOHR’S AUTOBIOGRAPHY.

  TRANSLATED FROM THE GERMAN.

  _COPYRIGHT EDITION._

  LONDON:
  LONGMAN, GREEN, LONGMAN, ROBERTS, & GREEN.
  CASSELL AND GŒTTINGEN: GEORGE H. WIGAND.
  1865.




PREFACE.


In publishing an English translation of the unadorned yet highly
interesting Autobiography of the celebrated Violinist and great
Composer _Louis Spohr_, we consider we are but satisfying a natural
desire on the part of his many admirers in this country to become
more intimately acquainted with both the public and private life of
this great musical genius--this noble, manly character, in whom were
combined in so high a degree the qualities of the true artist with
those of the really great-minded and thoroughly good man.

Although nearly twelve years have elapsed since _Spohr’s_ last
appearance in England, and during that time numberless foreign artists
of distinction have visited us and gathered well-earned laurels and
golden opinions in these islands; yet still above all _Spohr_ shines
out a star of the first magnitude, and there are no doubt thousands yet
amongst us who were present at the performance of his oratorios, under
his direction, at Norwich, or attended his concerts in London, and to
whom this Autobiography will be of interest. We have little to say of
it here--it speaks for itself. Simple and truthful throughout, it is
a mirror of the mind of him who jotted down the details composing the
same. Modest and unassuming at the commencement of his career, _Spohr_
continued so till the end, notwithstanding the celebrity he achieved
and the high position to which he attained. The praises showered upon
him neither turned his brain nor puffed him up with pride; and he has
left us an example of high morality, great amiability, and bright
domestic virtues, too rare alas! among artists and men of genius.

_Spohr_ was a man devoted to his art, and although far from wealthy,
often sacrificed his time--which to him, as to most of us, was
money--in giving gratuitous instruction to young men of ability too
poor to pay for lessons; and not unfrequently has he unhesitatingly
dismissed some rich, well-paying, but dull scholar to make way for a
poor but talented pupil, in hopes of thereby benefitting his art--and
this was his sole reward.

Another prominent trait in _Spohr’s_ character was his childlike
simplicity, combined with never-failing good-nature and an inability
to bear malice. Nor did the many unavoidable trials and vexations of a
long life ever permanently disturb his good humour or sour his temper;
and even gross injustice failed to do more than temporarily ruffle the
calm serenity of his soul. Thus he passed through the world, an active
and highly useful member of society, beloved and respected by all who
knew him, till in process of time he went down to his grave full of
years and honour.

As is explained in the text, the Autobiography comes to an end with the
month of June 1838; but the description of the life and doings of the
great master from that date till the time of his death was continued
from reliable materials furnished by Mrs. _Spohr_ and other members of
the family; so that the whole forms a true account and lively picture
of _Spohr’s_ earthly career from his cradle to his grave.

With these few remarks we submit the work to the perusal and kind
consideration of the gentle reader.

_London_, October 1864.

  THE TRANSLATOR.




Chronological Index of Contents.


  Vol. I.

                                                                      Page

 1784 to 1799. _Spohr’s_ childhood and youth at Seesen and Brunswick.--
 Musical proclivities, and the instrument of his choice.--His first
 instructors on the violin.--First attempts at composition.--Sent by
 his father to Hamburg to seek his fortune.--Disappointed hopes,
 and return to Brunswick.--Singular interview with the Duke
 of Brunswick.--Appointed violinist in the court orchestra of the
 Duke.--Undertakes the musical education of his brother _Ferdinand_.--
 His admiration of the music of _Mozart_.--Disturbs the Duchess of
 Brunswick at her party of “ombre” with his “murderous fiddling.”        1

 1802. _Spohr_ proceeds with _Franz Eck_ to St. Petersburg.--Revisits
 Hamburg.--Cultivates at intervals his fondness for drawing and
 painting in water-colours.--His first love.--Dussek.--_Spohr’s_ first
 published work, violin concerto _Op. 1._--Stay at Strelitz.--Romantic
 adventure.--Second capture of _Spohr’s_ heart.--Königsberg.--St.
 Petersburg.--Impressions, and incidents during his stay in that
 Capital.--Returns by sea to Germany.--Arrival at Brunswick             14

 1803. Appointed court musician at Brunswick                            62

 1804. Musical tour to Leipsic, Dresden and Berlin                      67

 1805. Appointed Concert-Master at Gotha.--Present with Prince
 _Louis Ferdinand_ at the military manœuvres at Magdeburg               84

 1806. Marriage of _Spohr_ with _Dorette Scheidler_                     95

 1807. Musical tour to Weimar, Leipsic, Dresden, Prague, Munich,
 Frankfort, Stuttgard and Heidelberg                                   101

 1808. Pedestrian tour through the Harz with his pupils                112

 Composes his opera of “Alruna”                                        115

 Congress at Erfurt                                                    117

 1809. Musical tour to Leipsic, Breslau, Berlin and Hamburg            128

 1810. Musical festival at Frankenhausen                               139

 Performance of the opera: “Zweikampf mit der Geliebten,” at Hamburg   153

 1812. Performance of the oratorio: “Das jüngste Gericht” at the
 Musical festival at Erfurt                                            157

 Musical tour to Leipsic, Prague and Vienna                            159

 1813. Appointed director of the orchestra at the theatre An der Wien  168

 Composes his opera of “Faust”                                         178

 1814. Composes his cantata: “The Liberation of Germany”               182

 1815. Journey to Brünn, Breslau, Carolath.--Third musical
 festival at Frankenhausen                                             203

 Musical tour to Wurzburg, Nuremberg and Munich                        211

 1816. Frankfort.--Strasbourg, &c.                                     217

 Visit to Switzerland                                                  234

 Journey to Milan                                                      251

 Journey to Venice                                                     270

 Journey to Bologna, Florence and Rome                                 283

 1817. Departure from Rome.--Arrival at Naples                         325


 Vol. II.

 1817. Residence in Naples                                               1

 Ascends Mount Vesuvius                                                  3

 Departure from Naples to Rome                                          32

 “Miserere” in the Sistine Chapel                                       36

 Departure from Rome                                                    41

 Addenda in reference to the Italian journey                            47

 Visit to Holland                                                       53

 Appointed director of the orchestra at Frankfort                       53

 1818. Composes the opera: “Zemire and Azor”                            58

 Journey to the musical festival at Mannheim                            59

 1819. Leaves Frankfort                                                 66

 Musical tour to Berlin, Dresden, Leipsic and Cassel                    68

 Visit to Brussels                                                      68

 1820. Journey to London                                                72

 First concert at the Philharmonic Society                              82

 _Spohr’s_ concert at the New Argyll Rooms, London                      94

 Mr. Logier’s Musical Academy                                           98

 Return to Germany                                                     102

 Musical festival at Quedlinburg                                       105

 Journey to Paris by way of Frankfort and Heidelberg                   105

 1821. Return to Gandersheim                                           134

 Concerts at Alexisbad and Pyrmont                                     135

 Removal to Dresden                                                    138

 1822. Appointed director of the orchestra of the court
 theatre at Cassel                                                     141

 1823. Institutes the Society of St. Cecilia                           147

 Composes the opera: “Jessonda” in Cassel, where it is
 first performed                                                       148

 1824. “Jessonda” performed in Leipsic                                 153

 1825. “Jessonda” performed in Berlin                                  157

 Composes the opera of “The Mountain Sprite” in Cassel,
 where it is first performed                                           157

 1826. Composes the oratorio of: “Die letzten Dinge” in Cassel,
 where it is first performed                                           159

 Musical festival at Düsseldorf                                        161

 1827. Composes the opera: “Pietro von Abano”                          163

 1828. Musical festival at Halberstadt                                 165

 1829. Musical festival at Nordhausen                                  166

 1830. Composes the opera: “The Alchymist”                             168

 1831. Celebration festival upon the occasion of the grant of a
 constitution to Hesse                                                 172

 Celebration of _Spohr’s_ “Silver Wedding”                             173

 Terminates his work “The Violin School”                               176

 1832. Composes the symphony: “Die Weihe der Töne”                     178

 Celebration of the “Golden Wedding” of _Spohr’s_ parents              180

 1833. Musical festival at Halberstadt                                 183

 1834. Journey to Marienbad                                            184

 Death of _Spohr’s_ first wife                                         187

 1835. Finishes the oratorio: “Des Heilands letzte Stunden” (Calvary)
 in Cassel, where it is performed for the first time                   188

 Journey to Sandfort in Holland                                        188

 1836. _Spohr’s_ second marriage                                       194

 Journey to Leipsic, Dresden and Saxon Switzerland                     195

 Musical festival at Brunswick                                         197

 Millenium-jubilee at Paderborn                                        199

 1837. Projected musical festival at Cassel                            202

 Journey to Prague                                                     204

 Vienna--Salzburg, &c.                                                 206

 1838. Death of _Theresa Spohr_                                        209

 Journey to Carlsbad                                                   209

 Continuation of _Spohr’s_ Biography by his family                     210

 1839. Composes his “Historical Symphony”                              215

 Departure to the musical festival at Norwich                          215

 1840. Journey to the musical festival at Aix-la-Chapelle              227

 Journey to Lübeck and Hamburg                                         229

 1841. Journey to Switzerland by way of Stuttgard and Hechingen        232

 Musical festival at Lucerne                                           235

 Composes his “Double Symphony”                                        237

 Musical performance in honour of _Mozart_ in Cassel                   239

 1842. Journey to Carlsbad                                             240

 1843. Invitation to Prague                                            244

 Journey to London to direct the “Fall of Babylon”                     249

 1844. Composes the opera: “The Crusaders”                             257

 Journey to Paris                                                      257

 Journey to the musical festival at Brunswick                          260

 1845. His opera of “The Crusaders” performed for the first
 time, at Cassel                                                       261

 Journey to Oldenburg, Carlsbad and Berlin                             262

 Journey to Bonn to the inauguration of the memorial
 erected to _Beethoven_                                                270

 1846. Journey to Leipsic and Carlsbad                                 276

 1847. _Spohr’s_ twenty-fifth Anniversary as director at Cassel        282

 _Spohr’s_ journey to London                                           287

 Musical performances in commemoration of the death of _Mendelssohn_   291

 1848. Festivities at Cassel                                           293

 1849. Journey to Leipsic and Carlsbad                                 293

 1850. _Spohr’s_ fall upon the ice                                     295

 Composes his symphony “The Seasons”                                   295

 Journey to Leipsic, Breslau and Berlin                                296

 1851. Journey to Switzerland and Italy                                300

 Journey to Göttingen                                                  300

 1852. Law-suit relative to the fine imposed upon _Spohr_ for his
 absence on a journey without permission                               301

 Journey to London to direct the performance of his opera: “Faust”     302

 Appointment of a second director of the orchestra, Mr.
 _Bott_ at Cassel                                                      306

 1853. Journey to London to direct the performance of his opera
 “Jessonda,” &c.                                                       308

 1854. Journey to Switzerland, Munich and Alexandersbad                314

 1855. Journey to Hannover                                             316

 Journey to Hamburg and Lübeck                                         319

 1856. Journey to Dresden, Saxon Switzerland and Prague                321

 Journey to the Harz                                                   321

 1857. Journey to Holland                                              323

 _Spohr_ pensioned off by the Elector of Hesse                         325

 Breaks his arm                                                        327

 1858. Journey to Magdeburg, &c.                                       327

 Journey to Bremen                                                     329

 Journey in Prague to the jubilee of the conservatory                  329

 Visit to Alexandersbad                                                331

 Journey to Wiesbaden to the musical festival of the Middle-Rhine      331

 Journey to Leipsic                                                    331

 His _Last composition_                                                334

 1859. Journey to Meiningen. _Spohr_ directs an orchestra for the
 last time                                                             336

 Journey to Detmold                                                    338

 Journey to Alexandersbad and Würzburg                                 339

 _Spohr’s_ last illness and death                                      341




My father, _Carl Heinrich Spohr_, Doctor of Medecine, afterwards
Medical Councillor, was the son of a Clergyman at Woltershausen in
the district of Hildesheim. He married, November 26, 1782, _Ernestine
Henke_, daughter of the Clergyman of the Aegydian church of Brunswick,
and at first resided with her parents at the parsonage[1]. I was the
eldest child of this marriage, and was born April 5, 1784. Two years
later, my father was transferred as district physician to Seesen. My
earliest recollections reach back to that removal; for the impression
made upon me by my mother’s weeping, after having taken leave of her
parents, and our arrival at the simple and somewhat rustic house at
Seesen, have remained with me up to the present time. I remember also
the smell of the newly whitewashed walls striking me as disagreeable,
and even now I still retain an uncommon acuteness and sensibility of
the senses.

[1] The house is still standing, and, as Number 7, forms the corner of
the Aegydian churchyard in Monk street. For several years it has been
given up to the Military musical institution, since the parish was
abolished during the Westphalian times.

In Seesen were born my four brothers, and one sister. My parents were
musical: my father played the flute, and my mother, a pupil of the
Conductor _Schwaneberger_ in Brunswick, played on the piano with great
ability, and sang the Italian bravuras of that time. As they practiced
music very often in the evening, a sense and love for the art was early
awakened in me. Gifted with a clear soprano voice, I at first began
to sing, and already in my fourth or fifth year I was able to sing
duets with my mother at our evening music. It was at this time that my
father, yielding to my eagerly expressed wish, bought me a violin at
the yearly fair, upon which I now played incessantly. At first I tried
to pick out the melodies I had been used to sing, and was more than
happy when my mother accompanied me.

Soon after, I had lessons from Herr _Riemenschneider_, and I still
remember, that, after the first lesson, in which I had learned to
play the _G_-sharp accord upon all four strings, in an extasy at the
harmony, I hastened into the kitchen to my mother, and arpeggiod the
chord to her so incessantly that she was obliged to drive me out.
When I had learned the fingering of the violin from notes, I was also
allowed to practise music with the others in the evening, as violinist,
and there were particularly three trios by _Kalkbrenner_, for piano,
flute and violin, which, after being studied, were executed in presence
of our circle of friends.

About the year 1790 or 91 a French emigrant, named _Dufour_, came to
Seesen. Although an amateur, only, he was an accomplished violinist and
violoncellist. He settled there; and being supplied with free board
by the more wealthy inhabitants, maintained himself by giving French
lessons. The days on which he used to come to my parents, we always
practised music, and I still remember having been moved to tears the
first time I heard him play. I now gave my parents no rest until I had
lessons from him.

_Dufour_, astonished at my rapid progress, was the first to persuade my
parents to devote me entirely to music. My father, who had predestined
me for the study of medecine, was from his love of music soon brought
to agree to this; but he had a hard struggle with my grandfather,
whose idea of a Musician was limited to that of a Tavern-fiddler who
played to dancers. Subsequently, after I had been so early appointed
_Kammermusicus_[2] in Brunswick, I had the satisfaction to induce
my grandfather, who loved me very much, to adopt a higher opinion
respecting my chosen career as a musical _artiste_.

[2] Musician in the Ducal Orchestra, or Court Musician.

It was while I took lessons from M. _Dufour_, that I made my first
attempts at composition, but without yet having had any instruction
in harmony. They consisted in duets for two violins, and I executed
them with my teacher at our musical soirées; astonishing my parents
with them in the highest degree. To this day, I recollect the proud
feeling of being already able to appear before the friends of the
house as a composer. As a reward, I received from my parents a gala
dress, consisting of a red jacket with steel buttons, yellow breeches,
and laced boots with tassels; a dress for which I had long prayed in
vain. The duets, which my father has carefully preserved, are indeed
incorrect and childish, but possess a certain form and a flowing melody.

This first brilliant success in composition, so inspired me, that from
this time I devoted nearly every hour which the school allowed me, to
similar attempts: I even ventured upon a little opera, the text of
which I took from “_Weisse’s Kinderfreund_.” It may be mentioned as
characteristic, that, I began with the title-page, and first of all
painted it very finely with Indian ink; then followed the overture,
then a chorus, then an air, and there the work came to a standstill.
As I had never yet seen an opera performed, I took the model for these
musical pieces from _Hiller’s_ operas “_Die Jagd_”, and “_Lottchen am
Hofe_”, of which my mother had a pianoforte arrangement, and which she
had often sung with me and my father. But I soon felt that I needed
both knowledge and experience for such an undertaking, and I therefore
set to work at other attempts. In this however, I had a hard struggle
with my father, who strongly insisted that every work once begun should
be completed before another was commenced; and only because my father
was convinced that I was unequal to so great a task, was an exception
made on this occasion; but it was never allowed again. To this severity
I owe my perseverance in working, and I have always recollected the
paternal precept.

As my father liked to superintend the labours of his son, he allowed
me to establish myself in his study, not being at all disturbed by the
humming and whistling of the young composer. When I had written down
anything wrong, which happened frequently enough, and was obliged to
scratch it out, my father heard it at once, and would say half angrily:
“Now the stupid boy is making windows again!”--for thus he designated
the marks I made across the lines, in scratching out. I was very
sensitive to this, and that is perhaps the reason why I acquired early
the habit of writing off a clean score without erasing anything.

Since it was now determined, on the advice of _Dufour_, that I should
devote myself entirely to music; _Dufour_ insisted that I should
be sent to Brunswick to enjoy the advantage of better lessons,
particularly in theory. This could not take place till I was confirmed.
According to a law strictly observed in the Dutchy of Brunswick,
confirmation could not take place before the age of fourteen; in order
therefore to lose no time, I was sent to my grandfather in the district
of Hildesheim, where it was left to the decision of the clergyman as to
when the children could be admitted to confirmation. Here, during the
winter, I had lessons from my clever grandfather, both in religion, and
other things; but music-lessons were not attended to, for neither my
grandfather nor my uncles understood anything about it. I was therefore
obliged to walk twice a week to Alefeld with my violin, to take lessons
from the precentor there. Tedious as were these journeys, owing to the
frequent severity of the winter weather, I was always pleased with
them, chiefly, indeed, because I felt that I was above my teacher, and
often brought him into difficulties by my fluent reading of the notes;
and besides, I had not unfrequently the secret triumph of seeing him
brought to a standstill.

Half way to Alefeld, stood a solitary mill. I once entered there during
a heavy shower of rain, and gained the good will of the miller’s wife
to such a degree, that from that time I was obliged to call every
day I passed by, and was treated with coffee, cakes and fruit; for
which I used to improvise something upon my violin by way of thanks.
I still remember having once so completely ravished her by playing
_Wranitzky’s_ variations upon “_Du bist liederlich_”, into which all
the juggles with which _Paganini_ afterwards enchanted the world were
introduced, that she would not let me leave her during the whole day.

Soon after returning from Woltershausen, I was sent to Brunswick,
where I was received into the house of the rich gingerbread-baker
_Michaelis_, as one of his own children, and treated with kindness by
all the members of the family; my father had been their physician and
had cured _Michaelis’_ wife of a dropsy.

I commenced my musical and other studies with eagerness. I received
instruction on the Violin from _Kammermusicus Kunisch_, a well
grounded and amiable teacher, to whom I owe much. Less friendly was
my instructor in harmony and counterpoint, an old organist named
_Hartung_; and I still remember how severely he once rebuked me, when,
soon after the beginning of the lessons, I showed him a composition
of my own. “There is time enough for that,” said he, “you must learn
something first.” But after some months he himself encouraged me to
make trials in composition: he corrected me, however, so mercilessly,
and scratched out so many ideas which to me appeared sublime, that I
lost all desire to show him anything further. Not long afterwards,
our lessons were brought to a close by the ill health of the old man;
and these were the only lessons in theory, I ever had. I was now
obliged to seek for instruction in theoretical works. But the reading
of good scores was of special advantage to me; these I obtained from
the Theatrical library through the interest of my teacher _Kunisch_.
In this manner I soon learned to write harmony correctly; and I now
ventured for the first time to appear publicly in Brunswick with a
composition for the violin. This took place in the School-concert
of the _Katharinen-Schule_, which I attended as a _Secundaner_.
These concerts were instituted by the Prefect for the practice of
the School-choir; but from several members of the _Hof-Kapelle_, the
Town musicians, and accomplished amateurs taking part in them, they
became so important, that greater works could always be executed, such
as Cantatas, Symphonies, and instrumental Concertos. From this time
everything was studied very exactly, and the performances, which were
held in the tolerably large saloon of the head class, soon became so
celebrated, that it enabled a trifling entrance money to be charged
to defray the expenses. At one of these concerts I thus appeared for
the first time in my native-town, and achieved so much success that I
was invited to assist at the Subscription concerts at the _Deutsches
Haus_, and received the usual remuneration. This first payment which
I earned as an artist made me very happy, nor have I forgotten the
proud feeling with which I announced it to my parents. I now frequently
played solos at the subscription concerts, and generally some of my
own compositions. I was also allowed to play in the Orchestra of the
Theatre for my own practice, and, thereby, became familiar with much
good music.

At this time, still possessing my clear, high soprano voice, it gave
me much pleasure also to join the School chorus in its perambulations
through the town. The leader, who since then has become celebrated
as the Bass singer, _Strohmeyer_, gave the soprano solos to me very
readily, from my being able to sing them without fault at sight.

My teacher _Kunisch_, who interested himself for me in a paternal
manner, now insisted that I should take lessons of the Concert-Director
_Maucourt_, the best violinist of the Brunswick orchestra. My father
agreed readily, although it was much against his grain to pay the
higher charge for this instruction; and the more so, as I had been
obliged to leave _Michaelis’_ house from his inability to give me up
a special apartment, and that it was quite impossible for me to play
and compose quietly in the same room with the children of the house.
A further consequence of this change of dwelling was, that my father
was obliged to arrange with his former aquaintances about my having
free board; this was very galling to his ambitious son. Nevertheless
I was treated in a friendly way by all these people, and thus the
humiliating feeling of my position was soon dissipated. I now, with
another _Secundaner_, inhabited a room in the house of the organist
_Bürger_; here however I could practise and compose undisturbed, for
our landlord, who interested himself in my musical studies, placed his
music room and pianoforte at my disposal.

With M. _Maucourt’s_ instruction, I progressed more and more towards
becoming (for my age) an excellent solo player: and after the lapse
of about a year, as my father was unable to defray the great expense
of my living in Brunswick, on account of the growing up of his other
children, he considered me to have made progress enough to enable me
to try my luck in the world as a travelling “_Artiste_.” He determined
therefore to send me first to Hamburgh, where he had acquaintances to
whom he could give me letters of recommendation.

Accustomed to obey my father in everything, and well disposed to
consider myself a shining light, I had no objection to this. If it
appear hazardous in the extreme to send a boy of fourteen into the
world, left entirely to himself, and trust everything to fortune, its
explanation is to be found in the character and life-experience of
my father. Bold and enterprising in the highest degree, he also had
already emancipated himself in his sixteenth year. In order to escape
punishment at school, he had run away from Hildesheim, and supported
himself most precariously in Hamburgh, first as a teacher of languages,
and afterwards, by giving lessons in the _Büsching_ Commercial school.
He then attended several Universities, struggling through great
privations by help of his enterprising spirit and unwearying activity;
and, at last, without any help from home; after a most adventurous
youth, succeeded in establishing himself in practice as a physician
in Brunswick. He found it therefore very natural that his son should
try the same course, although my mother shook her head thoughtfully at
it. Scantily provided with money for the journey, but furnished with
much good advice, I was sent by the mail to Hamburgh. Still, filled
with the lively impression made upon me by the crowded Commercial
City, and the ships, now seen for the first time, I went, full of hope
and in high spirits, to Professor _Büsching_, to whom I had a letter
of introduction from my father. But how soon were those hopes to be
destroyed! The Professor, after he had read the letter with increasing
astonishment, exclaimed: “Your father is then still, the same as ever!
What madness to send a boy into the world trusting merely to good
luck!” He then explained to me, that, in order to arrange a concert
in Hamburgh, one must either possess a well known name, or at least,
the means to bear the great expenses it would entail. But, that in
summer, when all the rich people were at their country seats, such an
undertaking would be quite impossible. Completely down cast by this
explanation, I could not answer a single word, and was hardly able to
repress my tears. I took leave in silence, and hastened to my lodging
full of despair, without thinking of delivering the other letters of
recommendation. Here, upon thinking over my situation, the certainty
that my money would hardly suffice for a couple of days, terrified me
to such a degree, that, in thought, I already saw myself in the claws
of the crimps of whom my father had drawn a warning picture. I made up
my mind at once, packed up my violin and other things again, sent them
to Brunswick by the mail, paid my bill, and with the scanty remainder
of my money, which might perhaps suffice to my subsistence, I set out
on foot, on my return to Brunswick.

Some miles from the town, calmer reflection brought regret for this
overhaste; but it was too late; had it not been so, I would have turned
back. I said to myself that it was foolish not at least to have
delivered the other letters first. They might perhaps have procured for
me the aquaintance of some musical person who would have appreciated
my talent, and have procured some information how arrangements might
have been made for a Concert. To this was added the humiliating thought
that my father who had been so enterprising himself, would upbraid me
as childish, cowardly and thoughtless. Thus, saddened to the depth of
my soul, I wandered farther, thinking continually how I might avoid the
humiliation of returning to my paternal home without having effected
anything whatever.

At last, the idea struck me of addressing myself to the Duke of
Brunswick, to solicit from him the means to carry on my studies. I knew
that the duke had earlier played the violin himself, and I therefore
hoped that he would recognise my talent. When (thought I) he has
heard me play but one of my concertos, my fortune is made. With newly
awakened courage I now journeyed onward, and got over the rest of the
road in the most cheerful disposition of mind.

Scarcely arrived in Brunswick, I concocted a petition to the Duke, in
which I laid before him my whole situation, ending with the request
either for aid towards improving myself, or, for a situation in the
ducal orchestra. As I knew that the Duke was in the habit of walking
every morning in the park of the Palace, I sought him there with my
petition in my pocket, and had the good fortune to have it accepted by
him. After having glanced over it and asked me some questions about
my parents and former Instructors, which I fearlessly answered, he
enquired who had worded the petition. “Well, who but I myself? I need
no help for that,” was my reply, half offended at the doubt as to my
ability. The Duke smiled and said: “Well, come to the palace to-morrow
at eleven; we will then speak further about your request.” Who so
happy as I! Punctually at eleven I presented myself before the groom
of the chambers and requested to be announced to the Duke. “And who
may _Er_[3] be?” snarled the groom to me in unfriendly tone. “I am no
_Er_. I am here by the Duke’s command, and _Er_ has to announce me”,
was my indignant reply. The groom went to announce me, and before my
excitement had subsided I was introduced. My first word to the Duke was
therefore, “Your Serene Highness! your servant calls me “_Er_”; I must
earnestly remonstrate against that.” The duke laughed aloud, and said:
“Come, calm yourself; he will not do it again”. Then, after having
put several questions to me to which I gave the most unembarrassed
answers, he said: “I have enquired about your abilities from your
last teacher _Maucourt_, and am now desirous to hear you play one of
your own compositions; this can take place at the next concert in the
apartments of the Duchess. I will have it intimated to the director
_Schwaneberger_.”

[3] _Er_, or he, used in this mode of address, is a contemptuous style
of expression in the German language, which has its equivalent only in
the English word _fellow_, used in a rude sense.

In most happy mood I left the Palace, hastened to my lodging, and
prepared myself for the concert in the most careful manner.

The Court concerts in the apartments of the duchess took place once
a week, and were most disagreeable to the musicians of the Ducal
Orchestra: for, according to the then prevailing custom, cards were
played during the music. In order not to be disturbed, the Duchess had
ordered the orchestra, always to play _piano_. The leader therefore
left out the trumpets and kettle drums, and insisted strongly that no
_forte_ should be played in its full strength. As this was not always
to be avoided in Symphonies, however softly the band might play, the
Duchess ordered a thick carpet to be spread out under the orchestra, in
order to deaden the sound. One heard therefore the words “I play”, “I
stand” and so forth, much louder than the music.

However, the evening on which I played there for the first time, the
card tables and carpet had disappeared; the orchestra, informed that
the Duke would be present, had well prepared themselves, and the music
went on excellently. As I then still appeared without any timidity,
and well knew that my whole future fate depended upon the success of
that day, I played with real inspiration; and must have surpassed the
expectations of the Duke, for he, even while I was playing, cried
repeatedly “bravo”. After I had finished, he came to me, patted me
on the shoulder, and said, “The talent is there; I will take care of
you. Come to me to-morrow.” In an extasy of delight I returned to my
lodging, wrote immediately to my parents of my good fortune, and could
get no sleep for a long time, from excitement and joy.

The next day, the Duke said to me, “there is a place vacant in the
orchestra, I will give it to you. Be diligent and behave well. If after
some years you have made good progress, I will send you to some great
master; for here you have no great model to follow!” This last speech
filled me with astonishment, for till then I had considered the playing
of my Instructor _Maucourt_, as the utmost that could be attained.

In this manner, in the beginning of my fifteenth year I was appointed
_Kammermusicus_. The Rescript of my appointment which was drawn up
later, is dated August 2^{nd}, 1799. Although the salary was only 100
thalers, yet by great economy, and with the help of other trifling
earnings, it sufficed to me; and I did not now need any further help
from home. Nay, I was even happy enough to be enabled to render the
education of the other children easier for my parents, by taking my
brother _Ferdinand_, who was eight years younger than I, and who showed
an inclination and talent for music, to live with me, and give him my
assistance to become an artist.

From this time, the young _Kammermusicus_ was in full activity. His
duties consisted in playing at the Court-concerts and in the Theatre,
for which latter, a French operatic and dramatic company had been
engaged shortly before. I therefore became earlier acquainted with the
French dramatical music than with the German; and this was not without
influence upon the tendency of my taste, and upon my compositions of
that time. At last, during the two fairs, a German operatic company
from Magdeburgh was also engaged, and the grandeur of _Mozart’s_
operatic music burst upon me. _Mozart_ now became for my life time my
ideal and model. Even now I well remember the transport and dreamy
enchantment with which I heard for the first time, the “_Zauberflöte_”
and “_Don Juan_”; and that I had no rest until I had got the scores
lent to me, and had brooded over them half the night long.

Neither did I fail to be present at all the other musical parties
in the town: I was a member of all the quartetto circles. In one of
these which had been formed by two of the singers of the French opera,
who played the violin, I heard for the first time the quartettos of
_Beethoven_, and from that time raved no less about them than I had
before done about those of _Haydn_ and _Mozart_. With such constant
practice, my playing and taste could not fail to become more and more
cultivated. The presence of two foreign violinists who at this time
visited Brunswick, produced also a favourable influence upon me. These
were _Seidler_, and the boy _Pixis_. The former impressed me by his
beautiful tone and his pure playing, the latter by his execution, which
for his years, was extraordinary.

I very often played in private parties, with the brothers _Pixis_,
and in their second public concert I performed in a double concerto,
by Pleyel the violinist. After such encouragement I always studied
with redoubled diligence. The duke, who did not lose sight of me,
had allowed me to inform him whenever I intended to execute a new
composition at the Court concerts, and he was sometimes present, to the
great annoyance of the duchess, who was thus disturbed in her party at
Ombre. One day when the duke was not there, and for that reason nobody
was listening to the music; the prohibition regarding the _forte_ being
renewed, and the dreadful carpet again spread, I tried a new concerto
of my own. I can only call these performances rehearsals, because no
preparation was ever made beforehand, excepting on the days upon which
we knew that the duke would be present. Engrossed with my work which,
I heard for the first time with the orchestra, I quite forgot the
prohibition, and played with all the vigour and fire of inspiration;
so that I even carried away the orchestra with me. Suddenly, in the
middle of the solo, my arm was seized by a lackey, who whispered to
me, “Her Highness sends me to tell you that you are not to scrape away
so furiously.” Enraged at this interruption I played, if possible, yet
more loudly; but was afterwards obliged to put up with a rebuke from
the Marshal of the Court.

The Duke, to whom I complained the next day; laughed heartily: but on
this occasion he at the same time adverted to his former promise, and
told me to choose a teacher at once from among the great Violinists of
the day. Without hesitation I named _Viotti_, and the duke approved of
the choice. He was immediately written to, to London, where he resided
at the time. Alas! He refused the request: he wrote word that “he had
become a wine merchant,”--“occupied himself but seldom with music, and
therefore could not receive any pupils”[4].

[4] It is related of _Viotti_ (the father of Modern Violin-Playing)
when thus established in London as a Wine-merchant, that, a Nobleman
who had previously been a great admirer and patron of his talent,
rebuked him for having abandoned his art to become a dealer in Wine!
“My dear Sir” replied _Viotti_, “I have done so, simply because I find
that the English like Wine better than Music!”

Next to _Viotti_, _Ferdinand Eck_, in Paris was at that time the most
celebrated violinist. He was therefore next applied to. But he also,
would take no pupils. A short time before, when engaged in the Court
orchestra at Munich, he had eloped with a rich countess; had married
her in Switzerland, and now led an affluent life, partly in Paris,
and partly upon an estate near Nancy which had been bought with the
fortune of the countess. He, however, proposed his younger brother and
pupil, _Francis Eck_, as master. As he was at that time travelling
through Germany, and had appeared with great success at Berlin, he was
written to; and, in case of his accepting the proposition, invited to
Brunswick. _Eck_ came; played at Court, and pleased the Duke greatly.
As however he was about to start for Petersburgh upon an artistic
tour, I was sent with him as a pupil for a year; and it was settled
that I should bear half the expenses of the journey: and that _Eck_,
at the end of the instruction should receive a suitable reward from
the Duke. A diary of this journey exists, which from some extracts may
perhaps be of interest. It commences a few days before our departure
(which took place April 24, 1802), in the following childish manner;
notwithstanding I was already a youth of eighteen.

“The Leave-taking.”

“To the most sorrowful hours of life, belong those of leave taking
from loving parents, and tried friends. Not even the prospect of an
agreeable and profitable journey can brighten them; time only, and the
hope of a speedy meeting again, can assuage their pain. From these
also do I expect relief on recommencing my musical tour. Farewell,
therefore, parents and friends! The remembrance of the many happy hours
enjoyed with you will always accompany me.”

We first went to Hamburgh, where _Eck_ intended giving concerts. I
regarded this town again, from which I had fled some years ago so full
of despair, with a certain degree of self-satisfaction and content.

After _Eck_ had delivered his letters of recommendation, the lessons
began. Concerning these, the following is written in my diary:

“This morning, April 30, Herr _Eck_ commenced my lessons. But alas!
how was I humiliated! I, who imagined myself one of the first virtuosi
of Germany, could not play one single bar to his satisfaction; but was
obliged to repeat it ten times at least, in order in some degree to
gain his approbation. My bow-ing particularly displeased him, to alter
which, I now also see is very necessary. At first it will of course be
difficult for me; but at last, convinced of the great advantage of the
change, I hope to accomplish it.”

The diary now describes everything that the travellers saw and heard.
Attractive as these were to me, yet I did not neglect my musical
studies for them. The forenoon, which in Hamburgh lasts till three
o’clock, was devoted entirely to practising what _Eck_ gave me. It was
not long before he expressed himself favourably as to my progress.
Already on May 10, I wrote:

“Herr _Eck_ begins to be more satisfied with my playing, and was kind
enough to assure me yesterday that I was now able to play the concerto
I had studied under him, without fault.”

The intervals between practising, I employed in painting. From my
earliest youth I had applied myself to drawing and painting in water
colours, and had attained some proficiency without ever having had any
good instruction. Yes, I had even hesitated for some time, as to which
of the two arts, music or painting, I should choose for my profession.
I now made my first attempt at portrait painting. The 12^{th} of May I
wrote:

“On Sunday I commenced a miniature which I finished this forenoon. I
tried to paint myself, and am quite satisfied with the result. This,
and playing on the violin have occupied me so fully, that I have not
left the house for four days. I sent this picture to my parents, and
then commenced painting Herr _Eck_, who was patient enough to sit to
me.”

It is now time to mention that the young artist, from his earliest
youth, was very susceptible to female beauty, and already when a boy
fell in love with every beautiful woman. It is therefore not to be
wondered at, that, the diary of the youth of eighteen contains many
pages of the outpourings of the emotions of his heart. But there
is great comicality in the earnestness with which these fleeting
inclinations are spoken of.

In Hamburgh it was a Miss _Lütgens_, the daughter of a music master,
who particularly won my heart. After a visit paid to the father, I
wrote the following:

“His eldest daughter, a girl of thirteen, a very fine, innocent
creature, pleased me particularly by her agreable and modest demeanour.
She is very beautiful, has hair that curls naturally, very lively
brown eyes, and a neck of dazzling whiteness. Her father, whose
hobby is counterpoint and harmony, entertained me continually with
the resolution and combination of the chords; finding in me the most
patient listener to his sermon, while I would much have greatly
preferred to speak with his amiable daughter about the combination of
hearts and lips.”

In order to a more frequent near approach, I asked permission to take
her likeness, which was willingly granted. But before the sittings
commenced, I was warned by Herr _Eck_, whom oddly enough I had made
my confidant, that she was a coquette, and unworthy of my regard. At
first I could not believe that a girl of thirteen could already be a
coquette, but after the first sitting, I became of the same opinion,
and wrote the following remarks:

“Henrietta begged me to take her portrait in the dress which she
wore, assuring me that she had chosen it expressly; for her other
dresses were not cut low enough, and covered her neck too much. I was
astonished at her vanity, and the sight of this charming neck which
otherwise would have enchanted me now saddened me; being convinced
that she was already infected by the vanity and shamelessness of the
Hamburgh ladies. While I painted, she chatted with her cousin, (an ugly
but vain girl,) of nothing but the dress she intended wearing at the
ball which was to take place on the following evening. Quite vexed, I
returned home, and wished that we might now leave as soon as possible,
for Hamburgh began to displease me more and more. My sociable heart,
which could so willingly attach itself to any one, finds here nobody.
In this girl, I thought to have found something on which to set my
affections; but I see I am again deceived. I had intended making a copy
of this portrait for myself; but I am still too much embittered against
her to be able to do so. Neither have I now any wish to go to the ball.”

But two days afterwards I wrote, “This forenoon I worked diligently at
Miss _Lütgens’_ portrait--and began also a copy of it for myself. After
dinner I went to her..... Henrietta received me with reproaches for
not having been at the ball.... To-day, she was so modestly dressed,
and spoke so reasonably, that I occupied myself more with her than with
my painting, which was the cause of my not quite finishing it. It is
really a thousand pities that this girl with so much talent and good
sense, lives in such vulgar society, and is thereby led away into the
follies of Hamburgh.”

With the presentation of the portrait, and our departure, which took
place immediately after; this little romance, that never came to a
declaration, terminates.

With respect to the point I had at that time reached in my art, and
my views of the latter, my diary shews proofs at every page, of my
opinion of what I heard in Hamburgh. Without doubt those judgments
are pronounced with the naïve assurance that belongs to youth, and
require without a doubt many modifications, if these were possible
after the lapse of so long a time. The opinion about Operas, and their
performance, may be well passed over, for those works have for the most
part, disappeared from the repertoire, and the singers, also, have
passed away.

But respecting other matters, as well as those of my Instructor, the
following incidents may be mentioned.

“May 5. To-day we were invited to dinner by Herr _Kiekhöver_, and there
met _Dussek_ and some other musicians. This was very agreeable to me,
as I had long earnestly wished to hear _Dussek_ play. Herr _Kiekhöver_
and his wife are very kind people, and in their house good taste is
combined with splendour. The conversation at table, was almost always
in French. As I am not well versed in that language I could take
but little part in it. But, I took all the more in the music which
followed. Herr _Eck_, began with a quartett of his own composition,
and enchanted all the listeners. Then Herr _Dussek_ played a sonata
for the piano, of his own composition, which however did not seem to
please particularly. Now followed a second quartett by Herr _Eck_,
which so delighted Herr _Dussek_, that he enthusiastially embraced him.
In conclusion, Herr _Dussek_ played a new quintett he had composed in
Hamburgh, which was praised to the skies. However, it did not entirely
please me; for, despite the numerous modulations, it became tedious
towards the end, and the worst was, that it had neither form nor
rhythm, and the end could quite as well have been made the beginning as
not.”

At a musical party at M. _Thornton’s_ country house, I became
acquainted with Fräulein _Grund_, at that time the most esteemed singer
of Hamburgh. My diary speaks of her with great enthusiasm. Among other
remarks:

“At first, the conversation was very vapourous; for the merchants spoke
of nothing but the contrary winds that prevented their ships entering
the Elbe. By and by however, it became more interesting, particularly
when Fräulein _Grund_ joined in it. I had already admired her correct
and polished language, and her captivating and obliging manners. But
when at table, she spoke alternately French with one, and English with
another, and that one gentleman informed me she spoke and wrote four
languages correctly, I began to envy her, and to be ashamed that I,
as a man, was so far behind this girl. She had also attained great
proficiency in music, and enchanted us so much yesterday evening by
her singing, that Herr _Eck_ proposed to her to sing at his Concert,
which she also promised to do. My neighbour at dinner, informed me that
her father maintained his family by giving Instruction in Music, and
spent a great deal upon the education of his children. In this, his
eldest daughter assisted him greatly; since she not only instructed
her brothers and sisters in music and languages, but also earned a
considerable sum by giving lessons in the first houses in Hamburgh.
I would gladly have made her acquaintance at once, but she was so
surrounded by young men that I could not approach her.”

My diary mentions the following with regard to Herr _Eck’s_ public
concert in the _Logensaal_ on the _Drehbahn_ on the eighteenth of May:

“Herr _Eck_ had great reason to be satisfied with the orchestra, for
his concerti were admirably accompanied; not so the arias of Fräulein
_Grund_, which were somewhat difficult for the wind instruments. At the
head of this well drilled orchestra, is _Massoneau_, well known by his
charming compositions. The appearance of this man by no means indicates
his great talent; for his manner of playing and his bow-ing are so bad,
that one might take him for the greatest bungler--and yet he does not
direct at all badly.”

Our stay at Hamburgh lasted till June 6. Herr _Dussek_ who was
commissioned to arrange the concert at a festival with which the
English living in Hamburgh were about to celebrate the 4^{th} of
June, in honour of their king, engaged Herr _Eck_ to perform a violin
concerto. It was not until the rehearsal which took place on the
evening of June 3, at nine o’clock, that Herr _Eck_ discovered that
the concert was to be given in the open air, which, until then, had
never been mentioned. A tent had been erected, in which the orchestra,
about one hundred strong, was disposed on a terrace-like platform. Herr
_Dussek_ first tried a _Cantata_, composed by him for the occasion,
and which, had an uncommon effect upon me; for not only was it well
written and thoroughly well studied, but from the accompainment of a
large organ which had been erected in the back ground of the orchestra
and “from its being executed in the silence of night, it partook of so
solemn a character that I was quite charmed by it.”

After the Cantata, Herr _Eck_ was to try his Concerto. But, he fearing
that the damp night air would have an unfavourable effect upon his
strings, and that his violin, after so powerful a volume of vocal
sound, and hemmed in by the linen walls, would tell badly, had resolved
not to play at all. He explained this; and at the same time reproached
Herr _Dussek_ warmly for not having told him at once, that the concert
was to take place in the open air. Hereupon a sharp dispute followed,
the consequence of which was that _Eck_ left the place immediately with
me, and we took no part in the festival itself.

We now went to Ludwigslust, where _Eck_ wished to play at Court. But
his offer was declined; and he came also to Strelitz at an unfortunate
time, for the Court was absent. Nevertheless, as it was soon expected
to return, and the pleasant little town with its charming park, bounded
by the lake, invited us to make a longer stay; and, as _Eck_ foresaw
that in the height of summer it would be impossible to do much in
Stettin, Dantzic and Konigsberg, he made up his mind to await the
return of the Court. We looked out therefore for private lodgings, and
made ourselves at home there for some time.

This was the most favourable period for my studies, during the whole
journey. _Eck_, who was now at leisure, devoted himself with great
zeal to the instruction of his pupil, and initiated me in all the
secrets of his art. I, for my part, urged on by youthful ambition,
was indefatigable. I rose very early and practised until exhaustion
obliged me to cease. But, after a short rest I began again, and in this
way, sometimes brought it to ten hour’s practising a day, including
the time that _Eck_ devoted to me. In a letter from Brunswick, I had
been informed that those who did not wish me well had loudly expressed
themselves, that I should distinguish myself as little as all the other
youths whom the duke had hitherto assisted in their studies. In order
to controvert this opinion, I was determined to do my utmost, and even
when my zeal sometimes flagged, the thought of my first appearance in
Brunswick upon my return, animated me directly to fresh exertion.

In this manner I succeeded after a short time in acquiring such
dexterity and firmness in the management of my instrument, that none
of the then known Concerto-music was too difficult for me. In these
exertions I was supported by sound health, and a Herculean frame.

Between whiles, I composed, painted, wrote and read; and in the
later hours of the afternoons we used to make excursions into the
neighbourhood. A favourite amusement of the travellers was to row
across the lake, and to take supper at a farm house, situated on the
opposite shore. As I was already at that time an accomplished swimmer,
I often undressed during these trips, and swam a while alongside the
boat. The relation in which I stood to _Eck_, which was more that of
one comrade to another than of pupil to teacher, admitted of such
privileges.

At this time, I finished a violin concerto I had begun in Hamburgh,
and which afterwards appeared as Op. 1 at _Breitkopf & Härtel’s_ in
Leipsic; and wrote the three violin duets Op. 3 published at _Kühnel’s_
in the same town. While practising these duets with _Eck_, I became
first aware that my teacher, like many violinists of the French school,
was no thoroughly finished artist; for however excellently he executed
his concertos, and some other compositions studied with his brother,
yet he knew but little how to enter into the spirit of the works of
others. A change of characters would have been very possible while
playing these duets, for the scholar could have taught the master how
they ought to have been executed. I became also aware from an attempt
at composition made by _Eck_, that it was impossible for him to have
composed the violin concertos and quartetts he had given out as his
own productions. At a later period, also, the concertos appeared with
the name of the elder _Eck_ affixed to them, and the quartetts with
that of _Danzi_, the leader of the Orchestra at Stutgard. Thus the four
weeks, during which we waited for the arrival of the Court, passed in
a very uniform way, but not fruitlessly for me, when Herr _Eck_ fell
seriously ill, and being obliged to keep his room for the first four
weeks of his indisposition, I took my evening walks alone. During these
walks another love affair sprang up, which is related in the diary with
great earnestness and minuteness. On the eighth of July, is written:

“This afternoon, impelled by ennui, I entered a circulating library,
where I selected _Lafontaine’s_ well known novel “_Quinctius Heymerom
von Flaming_.” I took it with me, and, leaving the town, looked for a
sequestered and shady place on the shore of the lake, where I lay down
and began to read. I became deeply engrossed in the story; grieved with
_Lissow_ about his _Jacobine_, and compared her to a lady then living,
and an acquaintance of mine. Suddenly I heard footsteps near me, I
looked up, and two girls stood before me; one with blue eyes, fair
curls, and beautiful as an angel, the other with black hair and eyes,
less beautiful indeed than her companion, but still not plain. I sprang
up, bowed respectfully and gazed after them for a long time. Myrrha,
Herr _Eck’s_ dog which I had taken with me, followed them, fawning upon
the fair haired one incessantly, so that it did not heed my calling. I
therefore followed to bring back the dog, and if possible to make the
acquaintance of the girls. The fair one came to meet me, begging pardon
for having kept back the dog, and asked me to promise that I would not
punish it for its disobedience. With her sweet silvery voice she might
have exacted yet greater promises from me; I therefore gave the desired
one with pleasure. The conversation was now commenced; I continued it,
and accompanied the girls on their walk. I found that the fair one was
very well educated and polite. The dark one spoke too little to allow
of judging of her education. We came at length to a meadow separated
from our path by a broad ditch, which although shallow, was yet too wet
for ladies to cross. As they expressed a desire to walk in the meadow,
I offered to carry them over. At first they would not consent, but
at last they allowed themselves to be persuaded. I took the fair one
first, and an incomprehensible pleasure seized me when thus carrying
the beautiful girl in my arms. When I had reached the most dangerous
part of the ditch with her, one of her fair curls fell upon my face.
This so disturbed me, that I nearly fell with my lovely burthen into
the ditch. Nevertheless, I brought her happily over. She thanked me
so heartily and gazed so into my face with her large blue eyes that I
almost forgot to fetch the other. We now walked on across the meadow,
and, at the end, to my great disappointment, found a little bridge
which led us back over the ditch. This envious bridge robbed me of the
pleasure of carrying once more the sweet burthen. I escorted the girls
as far as the town, and then parted from them very unwillingly.--I will
immediately enquire their names and station.”

Already the next day I again met my fair one. The diary relates this
with comical ingenuousness:

“This evening, urged by God knows what impulse, I took the same walk
as yesterday, and again laid myself down in the very place where I
had been so agreeably disturbed by the girls. I began to read; but,
although I was at an interesting part, yet when I had run through
some pages, I had not the least idea of the contents. I now confessed
to myself that I had not come here to read, but in the hope of again
meeting my new acquaintance. I pocketed my book and gazed with longing
looks towards the place where I had first seen them yesterday. But;
after waiting in vain for two hours, I arose, vexed, and returned
towards the town. Just before reaching it, at a place where two roads
meet, I encountered some cows, on their way home from the meadow, which
blocked up my path and obliged me to wait. But I had not stood there
long, before I saw at some distance, a female figure, dressed in white,
coming towards me, and which had exactly the same fine form and high
bearing of her whom I had waited for with such earnest longing. As she
drew nearer, I was more convinced that it must be her, and I went to
meet her. I had not deceived myself--it was her! She greeted me with
her graceful friendliness, enquired how I was, and told me that her
friend had taken cold the evening before, and was obliged to keep her
bed. I said I was sorry to hear it, and that I feared I had been the
cause of the illness of her friend, in having delayed them too long in
their walk. She assured me however of the contrary, and laid all the
blame upon her friend herself, who had clad herself too lightly.”

“During this time the herd had passed by, and we separated. In this
second conversation I have again remarked in her so much polish of
manner, and so much tender feminine delicacy that I could not but infer
that she had been exceedingly well educated.--But, as yet I know not
who she is; though from her conversation, I am of opinion she must
belong to the bourgoisie.”

These meetings were now repeated almost every evening without prior
agreement, and I felt very unhappy when on one occasion I did not find
my friend. I became more and more confidential with her; spoke of my
parents; of my patron who provided me with the means to accompany
my eminent Instructor on his travels; mentioned my works, and plans
for the future; and felt myself drawn nearer to her by her friendly
interest for me. I saw in her the sum of all womanly perfections, and
imagined to have met _her_ who could make the happiness of my life.
When wandering hand in hand in the little wood by the lake side, I
was more than once upon the point of declaring my love to her; but a
timidity I could not conquer always prevented me. Respecting her own
circumstances, she was very reserved, and hence I was still ignorant as
to who she was. On the 24 of July I however wrote:

“At last I have learned the name of my fair one; but the enquiries
made, have cost me dear! Herr _Eck_, who is now almost recovered and
who has already taken some short walks, sent for a hair dresser. Of
him, I made enquiries. He told me her name was ***, and, that she was
the daughter of a groom of the chambers to the former Duke, who had
died some years ago. Her mother, with whom she lived, had a small
pension. To my question as to how that could enable her to dress so
elegantly? his reply was: they were probably presents from Herr von ***
who was very fond of her and visited her frequently. On hearing this,
my agony was so great, that I nearly let fall my violin,--and scarcely
had the courage to ask, whether her virtue was doubtfully spoken of. He
assured me nevertheless to the contrary, and was of opinion, that Herr
von ***, who had only come of age two months ago, had the intention of
marrying her. He was now travelling, and would return in some weeks.
I had made the acquaintance of this Herr von *** at the Inn where we
dined, before his departure, and must admit that he seemed to me the
most well bred young nobleman we met there. The less therefore do I
understand his making her presents and she accepting them; for she can
hardly permit herself to hope that he will marry her. And, if so, how
as a prudent girl, could she venture during his absence to take lonely
walks with a young man, and sit with him in the evening before the door
of the house? The affair is a riddle to me, and I am doubtful whether I
shall go to her this evening or not.”

The girl’s character however did not long remain a riddle to me; for
scarcely had _Eck_, who now again shared the evening walks, made her
acquaintance, than she received his attentions in a much more friendly
and forward manner than she had done mine. _Eck_, gallant and liberal,
arranged excursion-parties to please her, into the neighbourhood; to
Rheinsberg, Hohenzirze, and other places. For this, she rewarded him
with the most marked attention, and had eyes for him only. I felt
deeply wounded; the diary contains passionate outbursts of jealousy.
Fortunately they were confined to writing, and the good understanding
with my Instructor remained unshaken. The contempt I now felt for the
girl helped me to conquer my passion, and I turned to my studies with
renewed zeal. My diary states:

“I never remark the progress I have made in playing, more than when,
from time to time, I take up some old theme and remember how I used to
execute it. To-day for instance I took the Concerto I had studied in
Hamburgh and found, that I now executed with the greatest ease those
passages which I then could not play without a break.”

My Instructor also, did not leave me without encouragement; and when,
on the 16 of August, I had played my new Concerto; to my great delight,
Herr _Eck_ said: “If every three months you progress as you have done
in these, you will return to Brunswick a perfect virtuoso.”

Two days later, Aug. 18., I remained almost the whole day at home,
and composed a new Adagio to my Concerto; for although I had already
written three, yet none of them seemed to suit well to the other parts.

As evincing my youthful pride as a Composer, the following may here be
cited:

“I was told of a popular festival which was to be arranged at
Hohenzirze, August 27. the birthday of the hereditary Prince. To this
festival the peasants of the neighbouring villages are invited to a
dance and supper. There is also to be dancing at the castle. In answer
to my question, as to where so many musicians would be found, I learned
that the _Janitscharen_-music would play for the peasants, and the
Orchestra--imagine my astonishment--for the _dancing_ at Court! I would
not believe it at first, until repeated assurances of it were made
to me. But, I asked: how is it possible, that the Duke can require
such a thing from the members of his Orchestra, and that they have so
little feeling of honour and artistic pride as not to refuse it? The
reply was: the Duke does not consider it improper for his Orchestra to
play to dancers, and the majority of the members dare not disobey his
commands, for if discharged from here, poor bunglers as they are, they
would find it difficult to obtain places in other orchestras.”

As after the end of my unhappy love affair, my residence in Strelitz
had become unbearable, I longed greatly for our departure. This
however, was still delayed, for the doctor could not pronounce Herr
_Eck_ fully restored until the end of September. The unpleasantness of
my position was still further heightened by the friend of my faithless
one, whom at our first meeting I had named the “dark one”, turning her
affection most unmistakeably towards me; an affection, which, although
the girl was very pretty, I could not return. I withdrew myself from
their society as much as possible; but, out of regard to my Instructor,
I could not entirely refuse to share in the pleasure parties and
excursions which he constantly arranged; and at these I could not avoid
being the escort of the dark beauty. There are naive complaints in my
diary of the embarrassments which her tenderness caused me, and more
than once I wished the moment of our departure to arrive, which would
free me from such trials.

On the 27^{th} Sept., came at length the moment, when we were to say
farewell to our fair ones. Sophy (the dark one) had affected, or
perhaps really felt, an uncommon sadness for the last three days.
To-day she spoke not a word, only sighed sometimes, and, when the
others in the room did not observe it, threw herself passionately
upon my neck. About eight o’clock in the evening, Herr _Eck_ and Miss
*** left the room. Now for the first time the real outbreak of her
tenderness took place; for after she had also sent away her brothers
and sisters, she hardly let me out of her arms. I was obliged to bear
with it until ten o’clock; then we took leave. The poor girl shed so
many tears, that I was ashamed of my own dry eyes, and, in order not
to appear quite heartless, I kissed her warmly. Sophy accompanied me
to the door of the house, and pressed a paper into my hand, with the
request that I would keep it as a remembrance. I hastened home, opened
it, and found a letter with a gold ring containing some hair. The
letter ran as follows: “Noble friend, pardon a girl whose importunity
must certainly have been obvious to you. I knew that sometimes I did
more than was befitting my sex. But God knows, when in your company,
which was so dear to me, I could not control myself. Now also I force
upon you a small token, trifling indeed, but given with the most
openhearted impulse. My only wish and prayer is that you will wear it,
and remember me. Ah! could this paper but tell you how highly I value
having made your acquaintance, and how deeply I regret your going so
far away from us! I must conclude, and in the firm hope of seeing you,
my best friend, once more, I already rejoice at the day which will
restore you to us again. Farewell, and may you live as well and happily
as is the wish of your friend Sophy ***”

This unmerited and tender inclination may not have remained without
thankful acknowledgement; for the resolution to answer the letter in
a most friendly manner from Stettin, is expressed in the diary. But
there is nothing mentioned respecting the execution of that resolve.

We went to Danzic, via Stettin, arriving there October 2. As _Eck_ had
to deliver many letters of introduction, and had to arrange a Concert;
the lessons, which till now had been given regularly, came rather to a
standstill. Meanwhile, I thought, “that I made progress by only hearing
Herr _Eck_ practise.” We were constantly invited out to dinner, and for
the evening; among other invitations was one to the country seat of
Herr _Saurmann_, where from a hill behind the house, we could overlook
the Baltic and a great part of the town. The view of the sea and the
vessels upon it made an indiscribable impression upon me. As the day
was somewhat overcast, the ships appeared to hang in the clouds, and to
move slowly along with them. I could with difficulty tear myself away
from the magnificent sight.

At another dinner, in Mr. _Simpson’s_ garden, I had the honour to sit
beside the hostess. She induced me to relate to her many things of my
early life, namely: how I had been at first destined for the study
of medecine, and then, from a passionate inclination for music, had
been led to devote myself entirely to the art. She listened to me with
a benevolent interest, but at the end wounded my feelings by asking
whether I should not have done better to follow the profession of my
father. Wholly penetrated with the dignity of my artistic career, I
replied angrily: “As high as the soul is above the body, so high is he
who devotes himself to the ennobling of the mind, above him who only
attends to the mortal frame.”

Almost everytime that an opera was given, I went to the theatre, and
did not fail to note down my remarks upon the performance, in which
singers, chorus and orchestra were sharply handled.

To my great joy, Ariadne in Naxos, the celebrated melodrama of _Brade_,
which I did not yet know, was also given. But it offended my taste,
that in the comedy which followed, “The peasants and lawyers”, Theseus
appeared again in the character of a lawyer, and Ariadne as a humble
peasant girl. “The music enchanted me although it was very badly
performed. But how could it be otherwise, the score having only arrived
in the morning from Königsberg, and the first and only rehearsal having
been held at noon! Madame _Bochmann_, who played Ariadne, declaimed
indeed very well, but was too ugly for the part.” A young Englishman,
who sat next to me, said, that, he did not think Theseus to blame
for forsaking such an Ariadne. And upon this, he related to me the
following anecdote. At an amateur theatre in England, Ariadne was also
given. A rather elderly and anything but beautiful lady played the part
of Ariadne so excellently, that the audience broke out into applause
at the end of the piece. She modestly disclaimed the applause, saying:
“In order to represent Ariadne well, it was necessary to be both young
and handsome.” A young man, who wished to say something clever to her,
cried out: “O, Madam, you prove the contrary!”

Herr _Eck’s_ concert on October 16. at the Theatre, went off
brillantly. As I knew the pieces that my Instructor performed,
very accurately, I undertook to lead them on the first violin. The
musicians, who soon discovered how firm the young Conductor was,
followed me willingly, thereby rendering the performance of the Solo
player much easier; which he also thankfully acknowledged. Besides
the three pieces played by Herr _Eck_, there was also a Symphony by
_Haydn_, an Overture by _Mozart_, a pianoforte Concerto by _Danzi_,
played by Herr _Reichel_, and two Arias of _Cimarosa_ and _Mozart_ sung
by Fräulein _Wotruba_ and Herr _Ciliax_. “The success of Herr _Eck’s_
performances was great, and the applause enthusiastic and reiterated. I
also, had never before heard him play so well in public.”

On the 20^{th} Oct. we went on to Königsberg and remained there till
Nov. 18. _Eck_ gave two concerts which were very well attended. Being
introduced into many of the first houses by letters of introduction,
we were constantly invited to dinner as well as to musical parties.
In the house of the “Surgeon-General” _Gerlach_, I often practised
music with Fräulein _Gerlach_, who was a thoroughly cultivated
dilettante, and an excellent pianiste; and who also sang my new songs.
Whether these had any artistic worth is now not to be ascertained,
for they have been lost. I sometimes played quartetts with two
Messrs. _Friedländer_. It was not however these quartett parties
alone that attracted me to their house; Fräul. _Rebecca Oppenheim_,
the younger sister of Madame _Friedländer_, had again inflamed my too
susceptible heart. She was a Jewess, and the society that frequented
the house consisted almost entirely of Jews only; but they were all
polite and educated people. The day on which I took leave, I found
Madame _Friedländer_ and Fräul. _Rebecca_ alone. The latter was
overflowing with wit and humour, and we never ceased laughing, and
jesting, although this but ill suited the purport of my visit. “It is
fortunate,” says my diary, “that we leave to-morrow, for Rebecca is a
dangerous girl! He who loves his freedom and his peace must fly from
her, and the sooner the better.”

Before Herr _Eck_ gave his first concert, the family _Pixis_ arrived
at Königsberg upon their return from St. Petersburgh. I immediately
renewed our acquaintance. The eldest brother had in the mean time grown
very tall, and his soprano voice had changed to a deep bass. But he
still dressed “_à l’enfant_ with a turn-down collar and no necktie”.
They were much dissatisfied with their journey to Russia, and the
father even affirmed that he was a thousand rubles out of pocket during
their stay in St. Petersburgh, although he had taken with him two
hundred letters of introduction.

We met at a musical party at Count _Calnheim’s_, where the youngest
played first of all some variations on the piano with great execution
and taste. The eldest then played a quartett by _Krommer_. But neither
the composition, nor his playing pleased me. “His tones”, says a remark
in my diary, “are without power, and his execution without expression.
Added to this, he handled his bow so badly, that, if he does not alter
this, he will never become a perfect virtuoso. He holds the bow a
hand’s breadth from the nut, and raises the right arm much too high.
In this manner, all strength fails him in the stroke, and the shades
of _piano_ and _forte_ vanish altogether in his playing.” After him,
Herr _Eck_ also played a quartett by _Krommer_. “But Heavens! what a
difference was there! The transitions from _forte_ to _piano_ in his
tones, the clearness of the passages, the tasteful _fioriture_ by which
he knew how to enhance the most common place composition, lent an
irresistable charm to his playing. He gained also, the most undivided
applause. _Pixis_ then played a quartett by _Tietz_, the celebrated
crazy violinist of St. Petersburgh, but had just as little success with
it as with his former one. At last, he begged Herr _Eck_ to play a duet
by _Viotti_ with him, in order that he might be able to say that he had
played with all the great violinists of the day; for _Viotti_, _Rode_,
_Kreutzer_, _Iwanovichi_, _Tietz_, _Durand_ and others, had all done
him that honour. In this request all the company joined, and Herr _Eck_
was obliged to consent. _Pixis_ played this duet best of all, although
he did not bring out _one_ of the passages as well as Herr _Eck_, who
was not at all prepared for it.”

In the Concert also, which the brothers gave, the eldest had no
success, “the passages were flat and without expression: he even played
very false, and at times scraped so much as to inflict pain on the ears
of the audience.... According to my idea, three years ago when I heard
him for the first time in Brunswick, he played the easy Concertos of
_Iwanovichi_ and others, better than the difficult ones with which he
now came forward.” Yes, I even doubted whether he ever could become a
great violinist, “unless he soon got a good master, who, of all things,
could give him a good style of bow-ing.”

Upon these doubtless too severe criticisms my Instructor who was a very
stern judge, may certainly have had some influence. When, ten years
later, I again met _Pixis_ in Vienna, he had become a distinguished
virtuoso, and as Professor at the Conservatory in Prague, he proved
himself also an able teacher of the violin.

In Königsberg, I began again to paint. I made the acquaintance of a
miniature painter, named _Seidel_, who gave me some lessons, and sat to
me. The picture was very like. My diary speaks also of composing. From
a remark about the polishing down of a Concerto, it is evident that
at that time, I did not understand how to work of a piece; in which I
afterwards succeeded so well, that, the rough draught, seldom suffered
even from slight changes, and, once written in score, it was never
altered afterwards.

For our journey to Memel, “we chose the road along the shore, being
twelve miles (German) shorter than that across the country. In winter
also, when the sand is hard frozen, it is better to drive on than the
latter. Three miles from Königsberg, the road runs close to the sea,
and does not leave it until you reach Memel. We travelled the whole
night, and suffered much from the cold and cutting sea air. Between
the fourth and fifth station we had the misfortune to have a wheel
come off. We were now obliged to quit the carriage, to right it by our
united strength, and secure the wheel temporarily with ropes. All this
may have lasted a full half hour, and I feared I had got my fingers
frostbitten; but this I happily found to be groundless. At nine o’clock
we reached Memel, but were obliged to wait three whole hours until we
could be carried across the harbour, because the boatmen had first to
be collected from all parts of the town. Four miles farther we reached
the frontiers.”

We arrived at Mittau with a large addition to our number; for Myrrha,
without our remarking it, had brought forth nine pups, six living and
three dead. “All, excepting two, were taken away from the poor mother.”

In the families to whom Herr _Eck_ was recommended, we found the most
hospitable welcome. We were invited to dinners, suppers, musical
parties and balls; and everything was done to render our stay
agreeable. In the house of a “Collegiate-Assessor”, _von Berner_,
I played for the first time in the place and in the presence of my
teacher. It happened thus; Herr _Eck_, after having played some
quartetts with great applause, was solicited to accompany a young
Pianiste of 16 years of age, a Miss _Brandt_, who was possessed of a
surprising skill, in a Sonata of _Beethoven’s_; but he excused himself
on the plea of great fatigue. As I well knew that _Eck_ did not dare
to play any piece _at sight_, that he did not know, I offered to play
in his stead. It is true, the Sonata was wholly unknown to me, but I
trusted to my readiness in reading. I was successful; and the young
Artist, in whom probably but little confidence had been felt, was
overwhelmed with praise.

At the subsequent musical parties, I was now always solicited to play
something; and I remember that Herr _von Berner_ on my taking leave of
him, said to me with fatherly kindness: “My young friend, you are on
the right road--only keep in it! Herr _Eck_ as a Virtuoso is certainly
still above you; but you are a much better musician than he is.”

In the Governor’s house I heard a Violinist of the name of _Sogeneff_,
who at that time was very celebrated in Russia, and a serf of Prince
_Subow_. “He played variations of his own composition, which were
immensely difficult. The composition pleased me right well, but his
play, although skilful, was very raw, and offensive to the ear. Herr
_Eck_ played immediately after him, so that the difference between the
two Players was very distinctly perceptible. The play of the Russian,
was wild and without transition from _forte_ to _piano_; that of Herr
_Eck_ firm, powerful, and still, always harmonious. We heard there,
also, some Russian military singers. They were six private soldiers,
some of whom sang soprano parts. They shrieked fearfully, so much so
that one was almost obliged to stop ones ears. They are practised in
singing by a non commissioned Officer, cane in hand. In some songs they
accompanied themselves on sort of Schalmey of so piercing a tone, that
I expected the ladies would have fainted away. The Melodies of the
songs were not bad, but accompanied by a great deal of false harmonics.”

At a club in the house in which we lived, I was invited to a card
party “with three Excellencies, but was obliged to pay dearly for the
great honour, for I lost more than three thalers in a few hours.”

Our departure for Riga was put off until December the second, on
account of Herr _Eck’s_ recurring indisposition. I spent my evenings at
the houses of Herr _von Berner_ and _von Korf_, in turn, and constantly
practised with Fräulein _Brandt_. We played through the whole store
of sonatas with violin accompaniment, and many of the masterpieces of
_Mozart_ and _Beethoven_ were thus brought under my notice for the
first time. After supper we chatted for an hour, or Frau _von Korf_
played at chess with me, a game which from my childhood, I had been
passionately fond of.

Herr _von Berner_, who had become attached to me, invited me to pass
some months with him in the country, upon my return from Petersburgh;
and then to give some Concerts about midsummer, a season in which
all the Courland nobility are assembled at Mitau. It gave me great
satisfaction to hear that I was considered far enough advanced to
appear in public as a virtuoso. I gladly consented.

It is odd that there is nothing mentioned in my diary about the
children of Herr _Berner_; for one of his daughters who afterwards
became a pupil of _Rode_, and distinguished herself as a violin player,
must already then have been very nearly grown up.

At last the hour of our departure came, and with a moved and grateful
heart I took leave of the families who had so kindly welcomed me.

In Riga, I found a letter from Brunswick, that gave me much pleasure.
I had asked permission of the Duke to dedicate my new Concerto, as
my first published work, to him; and the answer written by the Lord
Chamberlain _von Münchhausen_, brought the consent to my request. Full
of impatience to see my work appear, I begged Herr _Eck_ to write to
_Breitkopf & Härtel_ in Leipsic, with whom he was in correspondance,
to propose the publishing of the concerto. The reply soon arrived, but
was very discouraging to me.

For the consolation of the young Composer who can find no publisher
for his first work, the conditions upon which the above named firm
consented to undertake its publication, may be mentioned. I had myself
given up all claim to payment, and only stipulated for some free
copies. The firm required however that I should buy one hundred copies
at half the selling-price! At first my youthful Artist-pride rebelled
against such dishonourable conditions, as I deemed them. But the wish
to see the publication of the concerto so expedited, that, upon our
return to Brunswick, I might be able to present the Duke with a printed
copy; joined to the hope that he would make me a present, assisted
me to conquer my sensitiveness, and agree to the conditions. The
concerto was finished in time, and when I returned, was lying ready at
a Music-seller’s in Brunswick; but the package was not delivered to me
before I had paid for the hundred copies.

In Riga, Herr _Eck_ had a quarrel with the Society of Musical
Dilettanti there. Being in possession of the Concert room; they
required from him, as from all foreign artists, that he should first
perform in their concert, for which they were ready to give him up
the room and orchestra, for his own concert afterwards. Herr _Eck_
refused to comply with these conditions and would rather give up his
own concert altogether. This made the company more compliant; and
they declared themselves satisfied, if he would agree to play in no
other concert than theirs, after his own. He consented to this, on the
condition that they would be silent about it beforehand: because he
had been told that the subscribers to the dilettanti concerts would be
unwilling to pay for an extra-concert, if they were sure of hearing the
foreign Artist in the former. Silence, however, was not kept, and the
consequence was that Herr _Eck’s_ concert was badly attended. Angry at
this, he now demanded the sum of fifty ducats for his appearance in
their concert, as a remuneration for the loss which their gossiping
had caused him. The gentlemen directors, feeling in some degree that
they had been wrong; after long debating, agreed to pay thirty ducats.
Herr _Eck_, however, stood by his first demand. The gentlemen now
threatened to make the police compel him to appear; and he was actually
summoned before the Chief of the police. But he succeeded in winning
him over to his cause, and the gentlemen directors were dismissed,
with their charge. At last, upon the day of the concert, after the
bills parading forth the name of Herr _Eck_, had been posted up at the
corners of the streets, they vouchsafed to grant the required demand;
but they were not a little surprised at the declaration of Herr _Eck_,
that, now, after having been summoned before the police he would not
play at all, not even for double the sum demanded. All their threatning
and storming was of no avail; they were obliged to give their concert
without him. “I was there,” says the diary, “and much enjoyed the
fermentation that prevailed among the dilettanti. Nothing but Herr
_Eck_ and his refusal were spoken of; but nobody said one single
word in his favour; all were too much annoyed at their disappointed
expectations. The concert went off badly. A virtuoso on the flute, from
Stockholm, who first played an old fashioned concerto by _Devienne_
in place of Herr _Eck_, pleased as little as a dilettante from St.
Petersburgh, who executed a concerto for the piano by _Mozart_, in a
most schoolboy-like manner.”

_Eck_, had however won the good will of the Director of the police,
by having offered to give a concert for the benefit of the Nikolai
Asylum for the poor. _Meirer_, the Director of the Theatre, gave the
house gratis, and Messeurs _Arnold_ and _Ohmann_, as well as the ladies
_Werther_ and _Bauser_ gave their vocal services. The Musical Society
did all they could to put a stop to it; but in vain. “Immediately upon
his appearance Herr _Eck_ was received with the liveliest applause,
which was still more increased after he had played. The proceeds, after
deducting the expenses, amounted to more than a hundred ducats, which
were handed over to the cashier of the Asylum; but a gift of one
hundred ducats from the nobility present was also made to Herr _Eck_,
and the next morning, fifty more followed from several rich merchants,
who did not wish to be behindhand in generosity.”

Among the many invitations, one is also mentioned in the diary, to the
house of the rich sugar baker _Klein_, who “kept no less than three
tutors for his children”--a German, a Frenchman and a Russian.

On the seventeenth of December we quitted Riga. In Narwa the governor,
a great lover of music, who had seen from the _Paderoschna_, which we
were obliged to deliver up at the gate of the town, to be examined,
what a celebrated _Artist_ was passing through, invited us immediately
for the evening. “Our excuse, that we could not appear in our
travelling clothes, was not accepted. The governor sent his state
carriage, and we were carried off half by force. The embarrassment at
finding ourselves all at once in the midst of a brilliant society, clad
in travelling costume, very soon wore off after the friendly welcome
and obliging politeness of those present, and we passed a pleasant
evening. At one o’clock when the party broke up, we found our carriage
with post-horses ready before the door, and set out immediately.

But, between Narwa and St. Petersburgh, one misfortune after the other
occured to us. Two stations on this side of St. Petersburgh, we were
persuaded to place our carriage upon a sledge. But hardly had we driven
half an hour in it, when the cords with which it was fastened, broke,
and we could get on no farther. The postillion was obliged to get some
peasants from the neighbouring village to help us. After the job was
done, they made us understand by signs that we were to pay them five
rubles. Very angry at this shameful demand, we refused to give so much,
but as they shewed the intention of cutting the cords with which they
had bound the wheels, with their axes; and as we saw that we could not
contend against the crowd of wild looking fellows who by degrees had
surrounded our carriage, we were obliged to comply with the demand.

“After a halt of more than an hour we were at last enabled to proceed;
but it was not long before we stuck fast in the snow, and it was only
by the help of several peasants whom we called to assist us, that we
were able to extricate ourselves. We now found that in the deep snow,
the sledge hindered more than it served us, and we had the carriage
taken off. After this was done, and paid for, we were enabled to
proceed; but again seven times did we stick fast, so that no less
than sixteen hours were necessary to accomplish this post of three
miles. As we came nearer to St. Petersburgh we found the roads better,
and were also driven faster. At last, Wednesday the 22. at nine in
the evening, we arrived; after being six days and five nights upon
the road. The last part of the journey from Narwa to St. Petersburgh
is dreadfully uniform and tiresome. The perfectly straight road cut
through the fir forests, with the party coloured Werst-stones, each
exactly like the other, are enough to weary the most patient! Seldom
only does the endless forest open, to disclose a few buildings, or a
miserable village. The houses, or rather the huts of these villages,
have for the most part, one room only, with a window a foot square. In
this room, men and animals live together quite peaceably. The walls
consist of unhewn beams laid upon each-other, the crevices being filled
up with moss. It cannot certainly be very warm in these holes; but the
inhabitants do not seem to care for that; for I saw children and grown
up people running about in their shirts, and barefoot in the snow. The
poorer and more wretched the objects appear during the journey, the
more surprising is the magnificent St. Petersburgh and its palaces.....
We descended at the _Hôtel de Londres_, and immediately engaged a
guide, without whom one cannot be here even for one day; for as soon as
the stranger is shown his room, not a soul troubles himself about him
any farther.”

In St. Petersburgh, I was at first quite left to myself. This would
therefore have been the most favorable opportunity for me to look round
that splendid city. But the extreme cold, which already exceeded twenty
degrees, would not permit of this. I therefore continued to work with
my usual diligence, and indeed with increased zeal, for the period
of Herr _Eck’s_ instruction was more than half elapsed.--Through a
member of the Imperial orchestra we were introduced into the “Citizen
Club,” and there made the acquaintance of almost all the celebrated
_artistes_ and scholars then in St. Petersburgh. Among others, my diary
mentions _Clementi_, his pupil _Field_, the violinist _Hartmann_, the
first violin of the Imperial orchestra, _Remi_, also a member of the
orchestra, _Leveque_, the son of the leader in Hanover, and director of
an orchestra of serfs belonging the senator _Teplow_, _Bärwald_ from
Stockholm, the hornist _Bornaus_, and others.

_Clementi_, “a man in his best years, of an extremely lively
disposition, and very engaging manners,” liked much to converse with
me “(in French, which from my great practice in St. Petersburgh I
soon spoke pretty fluently)” and often invited me after dinner to
play at billiards. In the evening, I sometimes accompanied him to
his large pianoforte warehouse, where _Field_ was often obliged to
play for hours, to display the instruments to the best advantage
to the purchasers. The diary speaks with great satisfaction of the
technical perfection and the “dreamy melancholy” of that young artist’s
execution. I have still in recollection the figure of the pale,
overgrown youth, whom I have never since seen. When _Field_, who had
outgrown his clothes, placed himself at the piano, stretched out his
arms over the keyboard, so that the sleeves shrunk up nearly to his
elbows, his whole figure appeared awkward and stiff in the highest
degree; but as soon as his touching instrumentation began, everything
else was forgotten, and one became all ear. Unhappily, I could not
express my emotion and thankfulness to the young man otherwise than by
a silent pressure of the hand, for he spoke no other language, but his
mother tongue.

Even at that time, many anecdotes of the remarkable avarice of the
rich _Clementi_ were related, which had greatly increased in latter
years when I again met him in London. It was generally reported that
_Field_ was kept on very short allowance by his master, and was obliged
to pay for the good fortune of having his instruction, with many
privations. I myself experienced a little sample of _Clementi’s_ true
Italian parsimony, for one day I found teacher and pupil with up turned
sleeves, engaged at the washtub, washing their stockings and other
linen. They did not suffer themselves to be disturbed, and _Clementi_
advised me to do the same, as washing in St. Petersburgh was not only
very expensive, but the linen suffered greatly from the method used in
washing it.

Of all the acquaintances I made in the Citizen’s Club, none were dearer
to me than my young friend _Remi_. The diary speaks of him immediately
after our first meeting, as a “polite and charming young Frenchman.”
The same enthusiasm for art, the same studies and the same inclinations
bound us yet closer to each-other. We met every day at dinner at the
Citizen’s Club, when I was not invited out with my Instructor; and
when in the evening there was no Opera or Concert in which _Remi_ was
engaged, we played duets, of which _Remi_ possessed a great collection,
till late in the night. There were many evenings in that cold winter
on which the Theatre was closed; for by an _ukas_ of the benevolent
Emperor _Alexander_, all public amusements were forbidden when the
cold should exceed seventeen degrees, in order that the coachmen and
servants might not be exposed to the danger of being frozen to death.
And during that winter, the cold often remained at above seventeen
degrees for a fortnight together. That was a dull, monotonous time for
foreigners. But foreign _artistes_, were still worse off, for they
were unable to give their concerts. When the cold fell below seventeen
degrees there were notices innumerable; but they were often obliged to
be recalled on the following day. Herr _Eck’s_ public concert was also
postponed till March 6. O. S. after having been announced more than
once. In the mean time however, he played twice at Court at the private
Concerts of the Empress, and pleased so much, particularly the second
time, that the Empress had him engaged as solo player in the Imperial
Orchestra at a salary of 3500 rubles.

The less frequently operas and concerts took place in the cold months
of January and February, the more diligently I attended them, in order
to become more nearly acquainted with the native and foreign talent. I
also saw and heard _Tietz_ the celebrated crazy violin player. He was a
man of about forty years of age, with a ruddy complexion, and pleasing
exterior. His appearance in no wise showed his insanity. We therefore
were the more astonished when he addressed every one with the question,
“My most gracious monarch, how are you?” He then related to us a long
affair in which was but little evidence of sanity; complained bitterly
about a malicious sorcerer, who, jealous of his violin playing had so
bewitched the middle finger of his left hand that he could no longer
play; but at last expressed the hope that he would still be able to
conquer the spell--and so forth. On taking leave of us he fell upon
his knees before Herr _Eck_, kissed his hand, before the latter could
prevent it, and said, “My most gracious Monarch, I must do homage to
thee and thine art, upon my knees!”

Four months later, in the beginning of May 1803, all St. Petersburgh
rang with the sudden news that _Tietz_, whom the Russians in their
blind patriotism regarded as the first violinist in the world, and who
on account of his madness had not played for six months, had suddenly
commenced again. _Leveque_ related the nearer particulars to me.
_Tietz_ had been invited to a musical party at the Senator _Teplow’s_,
but had refused to play in spite of all entreaty; Herr _Teplow_, much
annoyed, sent away the orchestra saying, “Then I also will never again
hear music!” This made so deep an impression upon _Tietz_ that he
said, “most gracious Monarch, have the orchestra recalled; I will play
a symphony to their accompaniment.” This took place, and having once
began, he played quartets until two o’clock in the morning. The next
day the amateurs assembled in his house and he played again. This gave
me the hope of hearing him also, and on that account I hastened to him
on May the second (20. April). Many amateurs were once more assembled
there, who again beseiged him with requests to play; this time however
in vain. He was not to be moved, and I afterwards heard that some one
had been of the party whom he did not like.

On the eighteenth of May I took my new duet and my violin, and went
again to Herr _Tietz_, whom I this time found alone. It did not require
much to persuade him to play the duet; but he would not take the primo.
We had hardly ended, when Herr _Hirschfeld_, hornist in the Imperial
orchestra, and others with whom I was unacquainted, came in. Herr
_Tietz_ begged me to repeat the duet, and it appeared to please not
him alone, but also the others. Herr _Tietz_ now opened a quartet by
_Haydn_, and required me to take the first violin. He himself took the
violoncello part. As the quartet was known to me, I did not refuse.
It was pretty well executed, and Herr _Tietz_, as well as the others
present, overwhelmed me with praises. _Tietz_ played the secondo of
my duet, which is not easy, without faltering and perfectly clean,
executing the cantabile passages with taste and feeling. The passages
which, according to the old method, he played with rebounding bow,
pleased me less.

On the 23^{rd} May, we met _Tietz_ at the weekly evening concert of the
Senator _Teplow_, where a pianiste named Madame _Meier_ appeared, and
played a piano concerto of her own composition, which was not bad. Then
_Eck_ and I followed with a concerto of his brother’s, which we had
been closely practising for the previous fortnight. At the beginning, I
was nervous, and played the first solo not so well as at home; but it
soon went on better, particularly in the last parts.

Herr _Tietz_ now produced a concerto of his own composition, the
Allegro and Rondo of which he played twice, possibly because the first
time did not please him. As he never had practised since his madness,
it may be readily conceived that technical firmness was wanting in his
play. The difficult passages also, were executed very much better the
second time. Into all the three parts, he introduced cadences in the
old style, improvising them; they were in themselves very pretty, but
sounded quite different the second time.

The diary closes with the remark, “though _Tietz_ indeed is not a
great violinist, much less the greatest in the world as his admirers
maintain, he is undoubtedly a musical genius as his compositions prove.”

The best violinist then in St. Petersburgh was, without doubt,
_Fränzel_ junior. He had just come from Moscow where he had been
engaged for six concerts at three thousand rubles. His attitude in
playing displeased me. The diary says:

“He holds the violin still in the old manner, on the right side of
the tail piece, and must therefore play with his head bent...... To
this must be added that, he raised the right arm very high, and has
the bad habit of elevating his eyebrows at the expressive passages. If
this is not unpleasant to the majority of the listeners it is still
very disagreeable for a violinist to see...... His playing is pure and
clean. In the Adagio parts, he executes many runs, shakes, and other
fioriture, with a rare clearness and delicacy. As soon however as he
played loud, his tone is rough and unpleasant, because he draws his bow
too slowly and too near to the bridge, and leans it too much to one
side. He executed the passages clearly and purely, but always with the
middle of the bow, and consequently without distinction of piano and
forte.”

I heard another celebrated violinist, Herr _Bärwald_, afterwards leader
in Stockholm. As he came forward to play the concerto of _Viotti_
(A-sharp) he was already applauded, before he had sounded a note.

This, together with his good bearing and his excellent manner of
managing his bow, raised my expectation very high, and it was with the
greatest impatience that I awaited the end of the _Tutti_. But how was
I disappointed on hearing the solo! His playing was indeed clean and
accomplished, but still so sleeply and monotonous, the passages so flat
and drawn out, that I would have much preferred the false but still
fiery playing of _Pixis_. He introduced, and played an Adagio of his
father’s composition, something better, and thus somewhat reconciled
me again. After him, one Herr _Palzow_, a man celebrated for his
theoretical knowledge, played a concerto of his own composition, on a
piano with a flute attachment. Well and scientifically as the concerto
was worked out, it pleased neither me nor the others listeners, on
account of its length and monotony. The tones also of the strings and
of the flute had together a very bad effect.

I also wrote my opinion of _Fodor_, the then celebrated violinist
and composer. I heard him in the concert of the “Nobility’s, or
Musical club,” where however everything was very unmusical; for the
elite assembled there, “not to listen, but to chat and walk about in
the saloon.” At first a fine symphony by _Romberg_, (_C_-sharp) was
extremely well executed. Then Signor _Pasco_, first tenorist of the
Italian theatre, sang an aria so charmingly, tastefully and tenderly,
that it actually became somewhat more quiet in the saloon. Herr _Fodor_
now followed with a concerto of his own composition, which however
appeared to me worse than those I already knew. His playing also did
not please me. He played indeed in a pure and rather accomplished
manner, but without warmth and taste. In the passages he also played
with rebounding bow, which soon became unbearable. Madame _Canavassi_,
prima donna of the Italian opera who before had not pleased me on the
stage, sung this time so beautifully, that I must confess to having
wronged her.

During Lent, the Greek church allowing no theatrical representations,
the Intendancy of the Court theatre gave two grand concerts weekly in
the Steiner theatre, in which, only virtuosi of the Imperial orchestra
performed, among whom Herr _Eck_ was now reckoned. The best whom I
had the opportunity of hearing there were the violinist _Hartmann_,
_Jerchow_ and _Remi_, the violinist _Delphino_, the hautboyist
_Scherwenka_, and the hornist _Hirschfeld_.

In the first concert, the orchestra consisted of thirty six violins,
twenty bass and double set wind instruments. Besides these the choruses
were supported by forty hornists from the Imperial orchestra, each
of whom had only one single note to blow. They served in place of an
organ, and gave the chorus, the notes of which were divided among them,
great firmness and strength. In several short soli, their effect was
ravishing. Before the orchestra, were the Court singers, men and boys,
about fifty in number, all in red uniform embroidered with gold. After
the first part of _Sarti’s_ oratorio, _Remi_ played a violin concerto
by _Alday_ with much success. “After the concert as we drove home, he
asked me for my opinion of his playing. As truth alone should be spoken
between friends I did not withold from him that: clean and pure as his
playing was, I had yet missed the shades of forte and piano, expression
in the cantabile, and a sufficiency of vigour in the passages. He
thanked me for my candour and declared that he had been particularly
embarrassed that day, at having to appear in Herr _Eck’s_ place, the
latter having previously been advertised for this concerto.”--After
the second part of the oratorio, Signor _Delphino_ played a violin
concerto. As his playing was much extolled I had expected more from
him. “He played without taste, and not once perfectly clean.”

The Italian singers appeared in the second concert, and the French in
the third. Among the first, Signor _Pasco_ and Madame _Canavassi_,
already mentioned, distinguished themselves. Among the French there
were only two, _M. St. Leon_ and the celebrated _Phyllis Andrieux_, who
could lay claim to be called singers; they had charmed all Petersburgh
by their correct and pleasing singing, their skilful and graceful
acting, and their personal beauty. There was especially a Polonaise
with which the latter fascinated everybody, and which was always
encored. The beginning of it is found in my diary as follows:

[Music]

Between the first and second part of this concert, the Imperial
hornists executed an ouverture by _Gluck_, and with a rapidity and
exactness which would have been difficult for stringed instruments,
how much the more so then for hornists, each of whom blew only one
tone! It is hardly to be believed that they performed the most rapid
passages with the greatest precision, and I could not have conceived it
possible, had I not heard it with my own ears. But as may be imagined,
the Adagio of the ouverture made a greater effect than the Allegro; for
it always remains somewhat unnatural to execute such quick passages
with these living organ pipes, and one could not help thinking of the
thrashings which must have been inflicted.

These concerts, with the exception of one in which Herr _Eck_ played
and Mademoiselle _Phyllis_ sang, were but little frequented; for which
reason the managers soon discontinued them.

On the other hand a performance of _Haydn’s_ “Seasons” which was given
for the benefit of a widow’s fund, (also during Lent,) was very well
attended. Baron _Rall_, one of the projectors invited me also to take
part. I therefore shared in all the orchestra rehearsals, and in these,
as well as in the performance, played with M. _Leveque_, the same
part. The orchestra was larger than any I had yet heard. It consisted
of seventy violins, thirty bass, and double set wind instruments. The
whole therefore was something very grand, and my diary mentions it with
delight; as also of the work itself, which I then heard for the first
time, although I estimated the “Creation” _yet higher!_

My playing thus with _Leveque_, had increased our friendship, and I
learned from him that, during the summer he intended to visit his
parents in Hanover. We therefore agreed to make the voyage to Lübeck in
the same vessel.

As my new friend now visited me oftener, I played my new violin
concerto to him, and expressed my wish, to hear it with the orchestra
before I sent it to the publisher. _Leveque_ immediately offered to
study it with his orchestra, took the parts with him, and invited me to
a rehearsal some days later.

“I was in great agitation now that I was about to hear my own
composition with full orchestra for the first time. The Tutti were
well studied, and from this I could calculate how, in every part, the
effect I intended would be brought out. The most of them satisfied me,
some even surpassed my expectation...... But I was the less pleased
with my own play. All my attention being fixed on the accompaniment, I
played much worse than I did at home. I therefore begged permission of
Mr. _Leveque_ to try the concerto once more at the end of eight or ten
days, when I should have received the copy; this permission he readily
granted.”

The following appears later: “I got the copy of my concerto yesterday,
for which I was obliged to pay eight silver rubles. I could have had
six concertos copied for a like sum in Germany.”

The work was again tried from the new-copied parts. I was much calmer
than the first time, and played therefore much better. It was also
better accompanied than before, and therefore more effective. _Leveque_
declared himself very well satisfied. “I therefore hastened home,
packed up my concerto and took it, together with a letter, to the post.
I there heard to my great amazement, that there was no parcel’s post
in Russia by which one can send things out of the country, and that
if I would send it as a letter I should have to pay at least fifty
rubles.” I therefore took it back in order to send it by sea by the
next opportunity.

I have mentioned the Imperial hornband, each member of which had only
one note to play. On the twelfth of January, the Russian Newyear,
upon which day the Emperor, as usual, gave a grand masquerade in the
Winterpalace, for which twelve thousand tickets were issued, I found
the said band joined with the usual Ball-orchestra, and I heard a music
such as till then I had no idea of. “The accompaniment of this hornband
gave a fullness and harmony to the orchestra such as I have never
heard. Several Horn-Soli, produced a most enchanting effect. It was
long before I could tear myself away from this place.”

In another saloon opposite the Throne-room, the Imperial family,
surrounded by the Court, were dancing. But as this part of the saloon
was cut off from the rest by a wall of gigantic grenadiers with high
bearskin caps, and as I, inspite of my fair allowance of inches, could
not even peep over the shoulders of these giants, I was unable to
see much of the Imperial state, and of the diamonds of the ladies.
I therefore passed on, and entered the third and most beautiful of
the saloons. It is entirely of polished marbles, the walls white,
the pillars violet, and the window frames blue. The lights mirrored
themselves a thousandfold in the polished stone. The whole building was
lighted by twenty thousand wax tapers.

“After wandering several times through the apartments, and having gazed
at all the magnificence, I tried to find Herr _Eck_ again, he having
been separated from me in the beginning of the evening. Among the
twelve thousand present this was however a vain attempt. I now guessed
that he had gone direct home, and not finding our servant in the place
where he had been desired to wait, confirmed me still more in this
idea. I therefore thought it best to proceed home, also, and hoped,
thoroughly warmed as I was, to be able to go the short distance to our
hotel without a cloak, although the cold had increased to twenty four
degrees. But hardly had I reached the square before the Winterpalace,
on the opposite side of which was our hotel, then I felt my nose and
ears stiffen, and should certainly have had them frozen, although
I rubbed them unceasingly, had I not been able to warm myself at a
large fire in the middle of the square which had been lighted for the
coachmen; before I attempted the other half of the way. Unluckily,
however, Herr _Eck_ had not yet come home, and as he had the key to our
apartment, and the coffeeroom was already locked, I resolved to return
again. Arrived there I managed to press forward to a buffet, and warm
myself with a glass of punch. While I was observing the rich gold and
silver plate with which the room was decorated, Herr _Eck_ also came to
the buffet. Arm in arm we wandered through the magnificient rooms once
more, and then our servant with our cloaks having once more turned up,
drove off together. My friend _Remi_, to whom I related my adventure,
blamed me much for my want of precaution.”

On the 27. Feb. the so called “mad week” came to an end. It has its
name from the circumstance of the Russians allowing themselves the most
boundless extravagancies as a sort of indemnification for the ensuing
fast. “Not being allowed to taste either meat, milk, or butter for six
weeks, they cram themselves well for the last time, and give themselves
so diligently to the brandy bottle, that they do not recover their
sobriety, and in this state allow themselves every possible liberty,
thinking to atone fully for all in the following fast.--In all parts of
the town, booths are erected, in which fruit, liquors, and comfits are
sold. In others, Polichinelli, trained dogs, juggler’s tricks and other
things of the kind are exhibited. The chief delight of the Russians
during this week is sliding down the ice-mountains, most likely because
it is such a break-neck sport. Upon the Newa, and in various other
places, high scaffoldings are erected, having on one side a flight
of steps by which to ascend to the top, and on the other an incline
descending gradually to the ground. This incline is laid down with
large slabs of ice, which are joined together in the closest manner by
water poured between the interstices. Down this glass-like surface of
ice, the descent is then made in little sledges shod with steel, and
these are guided by means of a short staff held in each hand. Great
skill is required in order to keep the middle of the incline during
the extreme velocity of the descent, so as not to fall over the sides
which are protected by a slight barrier only. Four drunken Russians,
who had scarcely started, having come in contact with each other’s
sledges and being thereby brought too near the barrier, paid dearly for
their awkwardness. They fell over; two were killed upon the spot and
the others were carried away with broken limbs. But this did not in the
least disturb the enjoyment of the people, who pressed forward anew in
crowds to the steps. On the 26, the Court drove out to the scene, and
remained for a long time spectators of the neck-breaking amusement.
At an evening party at _Baron Rall’s_, I met also the Governor of
Narva, who upon our passing through that town, had had us fetched
almost forcibly to his house. He enquired in a friendly manner after
my health; and added “on your return through Narva you will find the
Petersburgh gate open, but the opposite one closed, and then you must
remain my prisoner for eight days without mercy.”

“This evening, _Field_ played as well as Herr _Eck_, and in truth
wonderfully. At two o’clock, the company sat down to supper, and we did
not arrive home till past four o’clock.”

On the 5. April, my birth-day; Herr _Eck_ invited me to dine at the
Hôtel de Londres. Previous to this, availing ourselves of the fine
weather we took a walk on the Newa, the granite-faced bank of which
was the resort of the _beau monde_. The breaking up of the ice was
impatiently looked for, and heavy bets were made respecting the day
on which this would take place.--In the evening I had a great and
unexpected pleasure.

“_Remi_ had again invited me to play duetts with him, and to day I was
able to bring him a new one of my composition. After we had played
this through for the second time, he embraced me and said: You must
change violins with me, so that we may both possess a souvenir of each
other! I was overcome with surprise and joy; for his violin had long
pleased me better than my own. But as it was a genuine _Guarneri_, and
at least worth as much again as mine, I felt obliged to decline his
offer. He, however, would hear of no refusal and said: Your violin
pleases me because I have heard you play on it so frequently, and
though mine is really a better one; yet you must accept it from me as a
birth-day present! I could now no longer refuse, and overjoyed carried
my new treasure home with me. Here I would have liked but too well to
play on it all night, and feast my ears with its heavenly tones; but
as Herr _Eck_ was already gone to bed, I was obliged to let it lie
quietly in its case. Sleep, however, I could not!” On the 12. April,
_Herr Leveque_ came for me to take a walk down to the Newa. “We there
found half St. Petersburgh assembled, awaiting the breaking up of the
ice. At length, a cannon shot from the fortress announced the long
desired moment. This was also the signal for the sailors to break up
the long bridge of boats which connects Wasiliostrow with this part of
the city. This was effected in a few minutes. The ice could now float
down unimpeded, and in a short time boats were being rowed up and
down. The first of these brought over the Governor of the fortress,
who accompanied by a numerous suite and by the band of the regiment,
brings over a glass of the water of the Newa to the Emperor in his
Palace, and receives for it a present of 1000 roubles. After this, the
serf-seamen of the Crown in red uniforms row all comers to and fro
across, without charge, until the communication by the bridge of boats
is re-established between both sides of the town. After we had looked
on all this with great interest, walking up and down for some hours, we
returned home.”

On Easter-Eve, Sunday, 17. April, I was awakened by the firing of
cannon, which announced the commencement of the Festival. As the night
was very calm, every shot was heard in long repeated echoes, until
another fell upon the ear.--On Easter Sunday the Russian greets his
acquaintances with the words: “Christ is risen!” upon which the person
saluted is obliged to kiss the other. One need only go to the window,
to see people on all sides embracing and kissing each other. It was
related to me that, “the Empress Catherine was walking on the bank
of the Newa one Easter Sunday accompanied by all her Court, when a
dirty fellow, probably somewhat drunk, threw himself in her way with
the salutation: “Christ is risen” upon which in order not to violate
the holy custom, she was obliged to kiss him. But, upon a sign given
by her, he was immediately seized, and had ample time afterwards in
Siberia to repent of his boldness!”

A few weeks afterwards, I received a commission from _Breitkopf &
Härtel_ of Leipsic to write an article upon the state of Music in St.
Petersburgh for their Journal, which was published in the course of
1803.

On the 13. May, a most original popular Festival took place. Every body
who possesses either a carriage, a horse, or a sound pair of legs,
betakes himself on this day through the Riga gate to the Katharinen
Hof; where they stare at each other for a couple of hours and then
return home. I went there with _Leveque_, and must confess, that the
sight of the handsome equipages, of which there may have been at least
two thousand, together with their fashionably dressed occupants,
afforded me much amusement. Katharinen Hof is a small wood, which
considering the climate looks tolerably green. From here one has a fine
view of the sea. In the middle of the wood stands the Summer-Palace of
Peter the Great, which together with its antique furniture is still
kept up in exactly the same condition as when he lived there. It is a
very poor looking place, and more like the house of a citizen than the
Palace of a mighty Emperor. We returned home by another road, and saw
numerous fine Villas and gardens, of which there are a great number
outside this gate.

Thus amid various occupations, and short excursions to view the
magnificent City, the time of our departure drew nigh. We agreed
for our passage by sea with a Lubeck captain to whom for the voyage
inclusive of board for both of us, we paid 20 ducats. Just before we
left, we were present during the celebration of another grand Festival
which I have minutely described. It was the Jubilee commemorating the
foundation of St. Petersburgh by Peter the Great, one hundred years
since.

On the 28. May, the whole garrison assembled on the Isaak Square
and was drawn up and commanded by the Emperor in person. In his
suite rode the whole of the General Staff, and the Ambassadors from
Foreign Courts. At ten o’clock the Empress made her appearance with
the Court, occupying some twenty magnificent carriages. The State
Carriage in which the Empress mother sat by the side of the Empress,
was covered with gilding and richly inlaid with precious stones. On
the top of the carriage was a crown of brilliants, fixed upon a purple
cushion. This state carriage was drawn by eight cream coloured horses
in silver harness, ornamented also with precious stones. The other
Court carriages which were also very handsome, were each drawn by
six horses. The Emperor rode a magnificent horse richly caparisoned,
but was otherwise dressed in a very plain uniform. In his suite was
a Turkish Prince who attracted the attention of all by the splendour
of his dress. The hilt of his sabre was covered with diamonds, and
his stirrups and spurs were of massive gold. When the cortège had
arrived in front of the Isaak’s Church, the Emperor dismounted and
led the Empress into the edifice, where the _Te-Deum laudamus_ was
immediately chaunted by the Singers of the Court. Unfortunately we
were not successful in our effort to get into the Church, as the doors
were closed immediately after the entrance of the Court. But it is
very probable that even in the interior of the building little of the
Music could be heard, for not only were all the bells set ringing, but
salvos of artillery were fired from the fortress, and by the ships
of war lying in the Newa. The Military drawn up on the Square before
the Church increased the noise yet more by the fire of musketry, and
the populace were not at all backward in shouting, so in this manner
not a single note of the Music reached us on the square. After the
Service was ended, the Court proceeded on foot through two lines of
soldiers to the Senate House. What ceremonies took place there, I was
unable to ascertain. After the space of about half an hour, the Court
resumed their places in the carriages, and the cortège returned in
the same order to the palace. In the evening the City was brilliantly
illuminated, and more so than I had ever yet seen. At nine o’clock,
_Leveque_ came to fetch me, and took me first of all to the Summer
Garden. Dark clouds hung in the sky, and threatened to extinguish the
lamps which had been but just lighted, with a heavy shower. With the
now clear nights, when it keeps so light till midnight that one can
read and write without a candle, this black sky was most welcome, for
otherwise the illumination would have been less effective. The Garden
was very brilliantly lit up. On both sides of the alleys a wooden
frame work had been raised which was thickly hung with glass lamps of
different colours. At the end of the Alleys, were seen brilliantly
illuminated triumphal arches, in the centre of which shone the capital
letters P (Peter) and A (Alexander). The whole of the Pavillions
throughout the garden were also lit up in a splendid and tasteful
manner.

But the Fortress presented a truly magic sight, as on leaving the
Garden we came on the bank of the Newa. It swam in a very sea of fire!
The granite masonry of the walls was hung with white lamps, the pillars
and the cornice of the entrance gate with red, and the sentry boxes on
the top of the ramparts with blue. The graceful tower of the fortress
was lit up to its topmost point, and as there was no wind, there was
not even one lamp that did not burn. From the place where we stood,
the whole fairy like scene was again seen reflected in the Newa at our
feet! It was indeed an enchanting sight! But the sky grew constantly
darker and more threatening; we were therefore obliged to make haste,
in order to see other parts of the city. Near the bridge, which was
also brilliantly illuminated, we saw a large ship hung with lamps up
to the very tops of the masts, between which countless streamers were
waving.

The streets which radiate from the Admiralty in the form of a fan,
many of which are above two miles in length, were lit up as light
as day, and presented a magnificent sight, with the merry crowds
streaming through them in their gayest attire. Among the Public
Buildings which were richly decorated with transparencies and devices,
the Admiralty was especially conspicuous. Some private houses also,
exhibited transparencies, among others that of the Grand Chamberlain
_Narischkin_; in which, Mars, accompanied by the allegorical figures
of Wisdom and Justice, crowned the letters P. and A., the first of
which had beneath it the Inscription: _Gloire du premier Siècle_,
and the last: _Gloire du second Siècle_!--We now followed the stream
of the multitude, which pressed forward to the Summer Garden where a
display of Fire Works was to take place. But we had scarcely reached
the Arcades of the Winter Palace, when a sudden torrent of rain put
an end at once to the splendour of the scene, and St. Petersburgh but
a few minutes before brilliant as with the light of day, was shrouded
in Egyptian darkness! Under the Arcades of the Square where we had
taken shelter, was the only place that remained illuminated. This
circumstance procured for us a curious and amusing spectacle. The mass
of people all dressed in their various coloured Sunday attire, who were
flying home out of the Summer Garden, were obliged to pass in review
before the place where we stood, and dripping with rain they presented
a comical sight enough. Some women had drawn their dresses over their
heads in place of umbrellas; others, trusting to the darkness, had
even taken off their shoes and stockings to save them, and waded by
barefooted, not a little discomposed at being obliged to pass by a
place lit up so brightly, and filled with laughing spectators. At
length after about an hour, the rain ceased, and we now could also
return to our homes. On the 1. June, (20. May) I packed up my last
things and then went to take leave of my friends and acquaintances. The
parting from my kind friend _Remi_, was very painful, and cost us both
many tears. He promised in a few years to pay me a visit in Germany. My
leave taking from my Instructor to whom I owed so much, was a very sad
one, and the more so, that for some time past he had again been very
unwell, and I therefore feared I should never see him again!

This fear was but too well grounded; we never saw each other more!
Respecting his subsequent and in part highly romantic fate, I have
learned the following, but cannot pledge myself for its entire truth,
since I derived it for the most part from hearsay.

At the time I left St. Petersburgh, _Eck_ had entered upon a love
affair with a daughter of a Member of the Imperial Orchestra, but
without the least notion of marrying the girl. Shocked at such levity,
I thought it my duty to caution the parents. I did so; but my warning
was received with coldness and disbelief. Some months afterwards, when
the visits of Herr _Eck_ had suddenly ceased, the daughter confessed
with tears that she had been seduced by him, and that she already
felt the consequences of it. Her mother, a resolute woman, succeeded
in obtaining an audience of the Emperor; threw herself at his feet,
and implored the restitution of her daughter’s honour. The Emperor
consented. In true Russo-Imperial style he offered Herr _Eck_ the
choice: either to marry his sweetheart within twenty four hours, or
prepare for a promenade to Siberia. Herr _Eck_ naturally chose the
former. That a marriage sprung out of such circumstances would soon
become a hell upon earth, may easily be imagined. _Eck_, whose health
had been already greatly shattered by his former excesses, could not
long endure the effects of the daily recurring matrimonial discords.
He lost his senses, and soon became so furious, that the mother in
law was again obliged to entreat the Emperor’s assistance. He granted
a dissolution of the marriage; gave the wife a pension, and ordered
the husband to be sent under proper care to his brother, at Nancy.
The selection of the man to whom the unfortunate sufferer and the sum
granted by the Emperor for the journey were entrusted, was however,
a very unluckly one, and failed in its object; for scarcely had he
arrived in Berlin with the invalid, than he declared to the Russian
Ambassor there, that the money was expended, and therefore he could
accompany his charge no farther. At the same time he laid before the
Ambassor an account of his expenses, according to which indeed, the
sum given by the Emperor was exhausted. There were however some very
extraordinary items in the account; among others, a dinner of one
hundred covers, which the lunatic had ordered without the knowledge of
his guardian, in one of the first Hotels in Riga, and which the latter
had been obliged to pay. Whether the Ambassador remained satisfied with
this account, was never known; but the Guardian disappeared all of a
sudden!

In the meantime, the lunatic finding that he was no longer watched,
was seized with the desire to escape. One evening, half dressed only,
he succeeded in slipping out of his room unperceived; and as there was
a heavy fall of snow at the time, he effected his escape unperceived
through the city gate. He had already got some miles from Berlin when
he was seized by some peasants, and as they believed him to be an
escaped convict they brought him back bound to the city. At the Police
Office, the poor half frozen fugitive was soon discovered to be a
lunatic, and handed over to the Asylum for the insane. Some members of
the Court Orchestra who a few years before had known and admired the
unfortunate man in the height of his artistic career, became interested
for him. They set on foot a subscription among their colleagues and
some wealthy amateurs of the Art, and with the proceeds they sent him
under the care of a trustworthy man to his brother at Nancy. The latter
procured for him a becoming treatment in the Asylum at Strasbourg,
where he remained for several years. His misfortune then reached the
ears of his former patroness the Dowager Electress of Bavaria, who
sent him to a clergyman of Offenbach or somewhere near that place, who
devoted himself to the cure of the insane. There, it is said, if not
quite cured, he became much more composed, so that a violin could again
be placed in his hands, from which it is said he drew the most touching
melodies. After the death of the Electress he was then placed in the
Asylum for the insane at Bamberg, where, either in 1809 or 1810, he
died.

On the 2. June (21. May) at 9 in the morning, we sailed from St.
Petersburgh.

“On passing a guard ship at the mouth of the Newa we were compelled to
show our passports, these were returned to us without charge, which
from our previous experience astonished us greatly. As the wind was
against us, the sailors were obliged to row continually, this made the
progress slow and at length very tedious; so that we were very glad
when at last we arrived at 2 o’clock at Cronstadt. We there put up at
the German eating house, the master of which had been recommended to
us for his honesty. But with all that, he retained also the thorough
bluntness, not to say rudeness of his class, for when we returned at
9 in the evening from a walk, and asked for supper, he replied with a
true north-German accent: now is no time for eating, people go to bed
now! And with that he turned his back upon us. Dumbstruck, we went
up stairs, and had already made up our minds that we must go hungry
to bed, when he at length had us called down to supper. At first we
were much inclined to refuse it; but our hunger got the better of our
sensitiveness. We went down, found a right good repast, and the host
who waited upon us himself, sought to make amends for his previous
rudeness by the most friendly behaviour.”

It was not until after some days that the wind became fair for
the farther voyage; but very soon, and for a very long time, the
“Saturn”--so our ship was called--was obliged to tack about, and on
the 14 June “we were still not far distant from the high land, which
we had already reached on the first day.” On the second day the sea
rose very high, and the passengers therefore, three women and nine men,
became all sea-sick one after the other. With me it began with a head
ache. “I felt my courage so depressed, that I bitterly repented to have
come by sea.” But on the fourth day I got better, and in a short time,
although the sea was still very rough, I felt as well as on land. It
was not so with all, for the ladies and also some of the gentlemen were
for a long time sick and invisible. _Leveque_ and I amused ourselves
meanwhile very well. We played duetts, read, wrote, and made sketches;
walked up and down the deck and ate and drank with real appetite. In
this way passed day after day. But like the others, we longed for a
fair wind, “for this eternal tacking, with which one makes but little
progress, is quite unbearable!”

On the 15 June, the wind grew fair; on the 16, it fell almost calm, and
on the 20, we had a storm. This was so violent that the ship cracked
in every timber. “I crept ill as I was, upon deck, to see the terribly
grand spectacle. I got thoroughly drenched it is true, for the waves
broke every moment over the deck, nor could I long endure above the
piercing wind and cold. But it was worth the effort, to see how the
waves like mountains, came rolling on, threatening to submerge us, how
they then suddenly seized us, lifted us high in air, and then again as
quickly let us plunge into a deep abyss! Although I had become somewhat
accustomed to this sight by the previously experienced high sea, yet
every time we made a plunge, I felt my back run cold, and should have
thought we were in great danger, had I not read the contrary in the
calm face of the captain. He gave his orders always with the same
coolness. But it was nevertheless fearful to behold how the seamen
clambered to the top of the masts, and then out upon the yards to reef
the sails. Only those who have grown up amid such perils can brave
unmoved the wild rage of the elements.”

On the 26 June, we arrived off Bornholm, a Danish island, on which
we could perceive two small towns, several villages, and a carefully
cultivated country. “The sight of the green cornfields which I had not
beheld for so long a time was particularly cheering to me.” From a
small neighbouring island “some peasants put off to us in a boat with
some fresh meat, vegetables and milk. I was particularly pleased with
the latter, for I could not at all relish the black coffee.”

“On one or two evenings, with a clear sky and calm weather, we had a
sight, such as one never sees in the same grandeur upon land, namely,
the sun set. It is impossible to describe the splendour of the ever
changing colours, with those also of the clouds scattered over the
heavens, and which were again reflected in a sea as smooth as glass;
but the impression made by this heavenly sight in the solemn stillness
of the evening, upon the whole ship-company assembled on the deck, will
never be forgotten by me. I saw the most callous among them moved by
it.”

At length on the 28 June, after a voyage of one and twenty days, the
“Saturn” cast anchor in the roads of Travemünde, and on the 5. July,
1803, I was once more in my native town Brunswick, which after my long
absence was now doubly dear to me. We arrived at 2 o’clock in the
morning.

I alighted at the Petri Gate, crossed the Ocker in a boat, and hastened
to my grandmother’s garden. But arrived there, I found both the house
and garden doors locked, and as my knocking was not heard, I clambered
over the garden wall, and laid myself down on the ground in an open
summer house at the bottom of the garden. Fatigued by the journey I
immediately fell asleep, and notwithstanding the hardness of my couch,
would probably have slept on for a long time, had not my aunts in
their morning walk in the garden, discovered me in my retreat. Greatly
allarmed, they turned back, and told my grandmother that a strange man
was lying in the summerhouse. Returning all three together, they had
courage to approach nearer, recognised me, and I was now awakened
with joyous exclamations, embraces and kisses. For some time I could
not recollect where I was; at length I recognised my dear relations,
and was overjoyed to find myself among them once more, and in the home
of my childhood. They had been very anxious about me, as owing to our
tediously long sea passage they had received no intelligence of us for
six weeks.

The first pleasing news that I heard, was, that the celebrated _Rode_
was there, and would shortly play at Court. I therefore immediately
announced my return to the Duke, in order to be permitted to attend the
Court-concert.

I immediately closed my oft cited Diary, with the wish that “it might
often afford me a pleasing remembrance of the agreable journey.”
I was received by my Patron with the same benevolent kindness as
formerly, which was manifested also, by his gift of the remainder
of the sum furnished for my travelling expenses, which was by no
means inconsiderable, and which upon my handing in the account and
the balance, was presented to me by the Grand Chamberlain. For the
dedication of my Concerto, which I had handed to the Duke on my first
interview, I also received twenty Friedrichsd’or.[5]

[5] One Fredericks d’or (single) = 16^s 6^d English.

I now burned with the desire, to appear with this Concerto before the
Duke, in public, as a Violinist and Composer; to exhibit proofs of my
industry, and the progress I had made. But this was not to be effected
so readily, for _Rode_ had already announced a Concert to be given
in the Theatre. The idea of making my appearance so soon after that
celebrated Violinist was also a source of some anxiety to me. For the
more I heard him play, the more was I captivated with his playing.
Yes! I had no hesitation to place _Rode’s_ style of play (then still
reflecting all the brilliancy of that of his great master _Viotti_,)
above that of my Instructor _Eck_, and to apply myself sedulously
to acquire it as much as possible by a careful practice of _Rode’s_
compositions.

In this I succeeded also, by no means ill, and up to the time when I
had by degrees formed a style of playing of my own, I had become the
most faithful imitator of _Rode_ among all the young violinists of that
day. I succeeded more especially in executing in his style the eighth
Concerto, the three first Quartetts, and the world famed Variations in
G-Major; in these, both in Brunswick, and afterwards on my first grand
artistic tour, I achieved great success.

Shortly after _Rode’s_ departure, the day I had so ardently wished
for arrived, on which in a Concert given by me at the Theatre, I was
to exhibit the first proofs of the artistic skill I had acquired on
my travels. Curiosity had assembled a numerous audience. From the
ready surety with which I could play not only my own Concerti, but the
other music I had practised under _Eck’s_ direction, I might have been
expected to feel no embarrassment upon my appearance. Nevertheless, I
could not wholly overcome it, when I thought, that, but shortly before,
in the very place where I stood, so great a Violinist had played
before the same audience. But I had now to put to shame my invidious
detractors, who on my setting out upon my journey had loudly asserted
that the Duke would again throw away his money upon one who would prove
incapable and ungrateful. I therefore summoned all my resolution, and
already during the Tutti of my Concerto, I succeeded in banishing
from my mind all and every thing around me, and gave myself up to my
play with my whole soul. The result, also, was a success beyond all
expectation; for already after the first Solo, a general applause broke
forth, which increased with every succeeding one, and at the end of
the Concert seemed as though it would never cease. The Duke, also, who
during the intervening pause sent for the young _artiste_ to his box,
expressed to him his full satisfaction. That day, therefore, is still
borne in my remembrance as one of the happiest of my life.

I was now appointed First Violin, in the place of a recently deceased
“_Kammermusicus_” and received the additional salary accruing to that
post, of 200 thalers. But as on account of the three months grace
allowed to his widow, this salary could not immediately commence, I was
compensated by another present of twenty Friedrichsd’or.

With my salary of three hundred thalers, and my additional evenings
I could at that time live quite respectably and free from care. I
therefore, again took my brother Ferdinand to live with me, and devoted
myself assiduously to his improvement. As I had not yet seen my parents
and brothers and sister, I went to Seesen to fetch him. While there I
received a visit from my fellow traveller _Leveque_, who was about to
return to St. Petersburgh. During the eight days we were together, we
played diligently, and my parents and musical friends of the little
town were especially delighted with the performance of my Duetts, which
we had so perfectly studied during the sea voyage.

On my return to Brunswick, I began anew my labours in composition.
I first of all completed a Violin-Concerto in E-Minor, which I had
commenced on the journey, but which remained unpublished, because it
no longer pleased me after I had adopted _Rode’s_ style of execution.
Nevertheless I played it several times with great applause in the
Winter-Concerts. At that time also, at the wish of the Violoncellist
_Beneke_, whom I frequently met at Quartett parties, I wrote a
Concertante for Violin and Violoncello with orchestral accompaniment.
Neither was this work ever published, and not even included in the list
of my compositions, as at the time I began to make that, I did not lay
my hand on it, and indeed had wholly forgotten it. Nevertheless there
must be some copy of it in existence, for I heard it once in 1817 or
1818, at a concert in Mayence given by the brothers _Gans_, afterwards
members of the Royal Orchestra at Berlin, who played it without at the
same time acknowledging it as my composition. It is true, the piece of
music seemed known to me, just as though I had heard it before; but
not until I had asked my neighbour for the programme of the concert,
and seen my name affixed to the piece, did the recollection of that
production of my youth recur to my mind. I now recollect nothing more
of it, than that it consisted of an _Adagio_ and _Rondo_, and the last
written in 6/8 time. But I can no longer remember the key.

The practise of this Concertante with _Beneke_ may probably have given
rise to the resolution we formed to make an artistic tour together,
and to Paris; where I had long desired to go. The permission for this
journey was readily obtained through the favour in which I stood with
the Duke, and so we set out upon it in January, 1804, with the most
pleasing anticipations.

We first spent some few days with my parents at Seesen, from whence we
announced our coming to Göttingen, to give our first concert there. For
the journey thither, we hired a carriage. Shortly before my leaving
Brunswick I had had a case made more worthy of the splendid Violin I
had brought from Russia, i. e. a very elegant one, and in order to
protect this from all injury, I had packed it in my trunk between my
linen and clothes. I therefore took care that this, which contained
my whole estate, should be carefully fastened behind the carriage
with cords. But, notwithstanding, I thought it necessary to look out
round at it, frequently, particularly as the driver told me that but
recently between Nordheim and Göttingen, several trunks had been cut
down from behind carriages. As the carriage had no window at the back,
this continual looking out behind was a very troublesome business, and
I was therefore very glad, when towards evening we arrived between
the gardens of Göttingen, and I had convinced myself for a last time
that the trunk was still in its place. Delighted, that I had brought
it so far in safety, I remarked to my fellow-traveller: my first care
shall now be to procure a good strong chain and padlock for the better
security of the trunk.

In this manner we arrived at the town gate, just as they were lighting
the lamps. The carriage drew up before the guardhouse. While _Beneke_
gave our names to the sergeant, I anxiously asked one of the soldiers
who stood round the carriage: is the trunk still well secured?

“There is no trunk there!” was the reply. With one bound I was out of
the carriage, and rushed out through the gate with a drawn hunting
knife. Had I with more reflection listened awhile, I might perhaps have
been fortunate enough to hear and overtake the thieves running off by
some side path. But in my blind rage, I had far overshot the place
where I had last seen the trunk, and only discovered my overhaste when
I found myself in the open field. Inconsolable for my loss, I turned
back. While my fellow-traveller looked for the Inn, I hastened to the
Police Office, and requested that an immediate search might be made in
the gardenhouses outside the gate. With astonishment and vexation I was
informed that the jurisdiction outside the gate belonged to Weende,
and that I must address my request there. As Weende was half a league
from Göttingen, I was compelled to abandon for that evening all further
steps for the recovery of my things. That these would prove fruitless
on the following morning, I now also felt assured; and I passed a
sleepless night, in a state of mind such as in my hitherto fortunate
career had been wholly unknown to me. Had I not have lost my splendid
Guarneri-violin, the exponent of all the artistic excellence I had
till then attained, I could have lightly borne the loss of the rest. A
moderate success during the tour would soon replace them. But in this
manner, without a violin, I should be compelled not only to give up the
journey, but in a certain degree recommence my study anew from the very
beginning.

On the following morning the Police sent to inform me that an empty
trunk and a violin-case had been found in the fields behind the
gardens. Full of joy I hastened thither, in the hope that the thieves
might have left the violin in the case, as an object of no value to
them, and as likely to lead to their discovery. But unfortunately it
did not prove so. The bow of the violin, only, a genuine _Tourté_,
secured in the lid of the case, had remained undiscovered; everything
else, inclusive also of a sum in gold for the expenses of the journey,
had been carried off. The Music had been considered unworthy of the
thieves’ notice. It was found strewed all over the field. As my
manuscripts were among it, of which I had no copies, I was glad to have
recovered these at least.

Without money, without clothes and linen, I was now first of all
obliged to procure on credit what was most necessary, before I could
give with my fellow-traveller the concert which we had already
announced. In the meantime, I practised diligently upon a very good
violin by _Stainer_ which I borrowed of a student from Hanover, and
thus prepared, I made my first appearance out of Brunswick as an
artiste. The concert was unusually well attended. Perhaps the account
of my loss had contributed to it. The Solo performances of the two
artistes, as also together, in my Concertante, were received with
enthusiastic applause.

This it is true was very encouraging for a further prosecution of the
journey; but anxiously concerned for my reputation, I could not make up
my mind to appear publicly, before I had procured a good violin of my
own, and had carefully practised myself upon it.

As _Beneke_ was unwilling to proceed further on the journey without
me, we therefore returned to Brunswick. The intelligence of my loss
had already become generally known there. The Duke, also, had heard of
it, and in order to facilitate my purchase of a new instrument sent
me again a handsome present. With the aid of that, I purchased from
a _Herr von Hantelmann_, a distinguished amateur, the best violin
in Brunswick at that time, but I soon felt, that it could not fully
replace the one which I had lost.

In order to prepare myself well for a future journey, I again applied
myself diligently to composition. Thus I wrote the Concerto in D-Minor
which was published by _Kühnel_ of Leipsic as (Op. 2), a Potpourri upon
chosen themes (published also by the same, as Op. 5.) and a Concerto
in A-Major which has remained in manuscript. In these, as also, in some
subsequent compositions, _Rode’s_ style is predominant, from which
at a later period only, my own style and peculiar mode of execution
develloped themselves.

In this manner passed the summer of 1804. In the autumn, fully prepared
for a fresh Musical tour, I felt disposed to repair first to the German
Capitals. I much desired also to appear once in Leipsic, which through
the excellently conducted Musical Journal of _Rochlitz_ had risen to
be the Centre of Musical criticism. I therefore set out upon my second
Artistic tour on the 18. October, through Leipsic and Dresden, to
Berlin.

Of this journey also, a Diary exists, but which extends only to the
9. December, and then suddenly breaks off. The cause of this will be
related hereafter.

I made my first stay at Halberstadt, where I gave a public Concert, and
on the following day played at the house of Count _Wernigerode_. Among
the Musical amateurs who received me in a particularly kind manner I
must mention the Vicar of the Cathedral, _Augustin_, and the Auditor
_Ziegler_. With the latter, who was an accomplished connoisseur of
Music and an excellent pianist, I remained on terms of intimacy until
his death. I received also great attention and assistance in getting up
my Concert, from the there resident Musicians, the brother Organists
_Müller_ and _Holzmärker_, the Violinist _Glöckner_, with whom I
played my Duetts, the Bassonist _Barnbeck_, and _Clase_, the Secretary
and Musical Director of Count _Wernigerode_. I therefore passed many
pleasant days in Halberstadt.

One afternoon, “I took a walk with Herr _Holzmärker_ and one of his
friends outside the gate of the town. We visited the Klus, a mountain
on the top of which rise several isolated steep rocks, the inside of
which is excavated, and which according to the legend was the work
of robbers, who in former times took up their abode there. I could
not resist the desire to ascend one of these rocks, hazardous as
was the attempt, and earnestly as my companions dissuaded me from
it. I succeeded in reaching the summit without accident, and besides
the pleasure I felt at having effected what few had the courage to
attempt, I had that of an extensive and magnificent view. So far all
went well. But when at length I wished to descend, and looked down the
declivity, a sudden giddiness overcame me, and I was instantly obliged
to sit down to save myself from falling over the precipice. Full ten
minutes elapsed before I could summon the necessary composure to make
the descent, and it is doubtful whether I should have effected it in
safety, if the gentlemen below had not shouted to me, where to set my
feet, which I could not see to do, having my face turned towards the
rock. Trembling from the exertion and the convulsive clinging to the
rock, as well as thoroughly ashamed at having disregarded the warning
of the two gentlemen, I reached them at length, and returned with them
to the town not a little glad to have escaped uninjured from so eminent
a danger.”

On the 22. October, I gave my Concert. At the rehearsal, my Concerto in
D-Minor had made a great sensation.

“Messrs. _Ziegler_, _Müller_ and others declared to my great
satisfaction, that they had never heard a finer Violin Concerto.”

“The Concert itself began at five o’clock. The Theatre was very
empty, but the audience was composed of persons possessed of a high
intelligence of Art, as I could readily see by the deep silence and
sympathy with which my play was listened to.” Among other things, the
following were executed: A Symphony by _Haydn_; my Concerto in D-Minor;
a Concerto in D-Major by _Kreutzer_; a Polonaise by _Rode_ from the
Quartett in Es-Major. After the Concert, Count _Wernigerode_ expressed
his satisfaction to me, and invited me to a Concert at his house on the
following day, in which the third Count assisted as Clarionetist in the
orchestra. I played _Rode’s_ Concerto in A-Major and his Quartett in
Es-Major.

“After the Concert was over, the company surrounded me and overwhelmed
me with expressions of praise. I was obliged to relate to the ladies a
great deal about St. Petersburgh.”

In Magdeburg, as artiste I also met with the most friendly reception.
Captain _von Cornberg_, Major _von Witzleben_, Regimental Quartermaster
_Türpen_, and Privy Counsellor _Schäfer_, to whom I was recommended,
exerted themselves to the utmost, both to procure a numerous audience
for me, and to make my stay as agreeable as possible. Already at my
first Concert on the 3. November, the audience was very numerous. I
played my D-Minor-Concerto, the A-Minor-Concerto of _Rode_, and the
G-Major-variations.

“I succeeded right well in all, and the people seemed to be quite
carried away by my play.”

At this time I occupied myself with the remodelling of my last Concerto
but one, in E-Minor. I wrote an entirely new Adagio for it.

At a Musical party at the house of the Secretary to the Board of
Finance, _Feska_, I heard his son play in a Quartett of his own
composition.

“The Quartett,” says the Diary, “is very well worked out and evinces
great talent. As a Player he pleased me less. He is certainly not
wanting in mechanical skill, but in a finished and well regulated
handling of the bow, and therefore in a good tone, and in clearness of
the passages. Neither was his intonation always pure. Were he to study
under a good master, he might become something great.”

I went frequently to parties at the houses of the Merchants
_Hildebrandt_ and _Schmager_, of the Criminal-Counsellor _Sukrow_, and
the Privy Counsellor _Schäfer_, and “everywhere pleased much.”

“I was also invited by _Türpen_ to an interesting Musical Soirée. I
found assembled there a small but a very select company of the most
zealous friends of Music in Magdeburg. I played Quartetts by _Haydn_,
_Beethoven_, _Mozart_, and in conclusion the Es-Major-Quartett of
_Rode_. I was accompanied very well in all of them, so I that could
give myself entirely up to my feelings. The company seemed enchanted.
Herr _Türpen_ affirmed that I understood better than any one how to
render the peculiar style of each Composer. As finale, our host played
a Trio by _Mozart_, right well, on a very good pianoforte by _Blum_
of Brunswick. But he has the bad habit of drawing out the “Canto” too
much, by which he rather injures the expression than improves it.”

On the 10. November, I gave my second Concert, which was not quite so
numerously attended as the first, and in which I executed a Symphony by
_Haydn_ and my Violin-Concerto in E-Minor, I also played a Concertante
by _Eck_, with _Feska_. The remodelled E-Minor-Concerto went well. The
new Adagio appeared to please very much.

Of the other circumstances that occurred while I was in Magdeburg,
I will only mention a theatrical representation, the Author of the
Piece having made himself a name in the theatrical world by his
piquante notice “Musical Ollapodrida from Paris.” It was the first
representation of “The Female Abällino” by _Sievers_.

“Never have I read or seen enacted a more wretched piece. It is a
sorry imitation of the well known “Great Bandit,” but has neither
the exciting scenes nor the clever dialogue which made that piece a
favorite of the public. The chief personage Rosa Salviatti, who in
order to protect her lover from a conspiracy of his uncle’s, resorts to
the most romantic and absurd means, explains the reasons of her conduct
in a speech that lasts at least a quarter of an hour. The public, which
had already previously manifested signs of impatience, became so noisy
during this discourse, that the play could scarcely be concluded. At
length when the curtain fell, a general hissing and whistling broke
forth. The unfortunate Author, unappreciated as he considered he had
been in Brunswick, and who thought to achieve a triumph here, is said
to have been present in the Theatre, but made a hasty retreat before
the end of the piece.”

Respecting my stay in Halle, whither I next went, the Diary gives
but very scanty information. The more I was drawn into society by an
increased circle of acquaintances, the less pleasure I took as it
would appear, in the previous frequent freedom of style in my remarks
upon it. I may also not have had the time, as I was very careful in
preparing myself for every performance whether public or private, and
was constantly engaged in composing.

My two Concerts on the 21. and 23. November, were very well attended.
Besides my own works, I played a Concerto of _Rode_, A-Minor and the
G-Major variations.

“My play met with an enthusiastic reception.” The persons, who took a
particular interest in me, and whom I have to thank for many pleasant
hours, were the Family _Garrigues_, consisting of the father, mother,
daughter and two sons, all of them very charming, polite people;
_Lafontaine_ and his fascinating adopted daughter; _Chodowiecki_,
_Niemeier_ and _Loder_. Among the students I made the acquaintance of
some clever amateurs. One Herr _Schneider_ played well on the piano;
another, Herr _Müller_ right well on the violin. Herr _Gründler_, from
Trebnitz near Breslau, immediately took instruction from me on the
violin.

I yet remember also the following incident: Among those who were
also of assistance to me in the arrangements for my Concert was the
celebrated Counterpointist _Türk_. He directed the Academical Concerts,
one of which took place during my stay in Halle. The Opera “_Titus_”
was given as Concert-Music. The public had been already assembled
for the space of half an hour; the Orchestra had finished tuning and
awaited the signal to begin. Among the Student part of the audience,
great dissatisfaction had begun to shew itself at the delay in the
appearance of the Singer; but when he at length made his appearance,
in very unseemly dress for the occasion, in an overcoat and with dirty
boots, the general disapprobation was shewn by hissing and a shuffling
of the feet. The Singer, into whose hands the impatient Director had
already thrust the notes, stepped forward and said with a contemptuous
look: “If I do not please you as I am, why then I can go away again!”
Hereupon he threw the notes at the feet of the Director and rushed out
of the place. They ran after him to bring him back; but all in vain! I
now expected that the Concert would be postponed, or at least that all
those “Numbers” in which Titus has to sing, would be omitted. Nothing
of the kind! The conscientious Director did not allow his auditory to
go short of a single bar of the music; he knew how to help himself!

~He played upon his Grand-Piano the whole Part of Titus, Recitative,
Airs, and Concerted-pieces from the first note to the last!~ I was
astounded, and knew not whether to be vexed, or to laugh at the
singularly naive expedient. But it was made quite clear to me that
evening, that a man may be a learned Counterpointist and yet not
possess an atom of good taste!

After my arrival in Leipsic on 29. November, the Diary gives two
short notices and then remains wholly silent. The first concerns
a representation of the Opera by _Paer_: “Die Wegelagerer” (The
Way-layer); the second relates to a visit to the Drapers-Hall-Concerts.

“These Concerts”, it says, “are got up by a Society of shopkeepers.
But they are not Amateur-concerts; for the orchestra is alone composed
of professional musicians, and is both numerous and excellent. For the
Vocal part a foreign female singer is always engaged, as the Director
of the Theatre does not allow his singers to appear in concerts.
This year it is a Signora _Alberghi_ from Dresden, the daughter of a
Church-singer of that City. She is still very young, but has already
a very good method, and a clear, melodious voice. She sang two arias
with great applause. Besides that, I heard the Concert Master of the
society, Herr _Campagnoli_, play a Concerto by _Kreutzer_, extremely
well. His method, it is true, is of the old school; but his play is
pure and finished. The Room in which these Concerts are given is
exceedingly handsome, and particularly favorable to the effect of the
music.”

I had many difficulties to overcome for the arrangements of my concert.
Engrossed in the business pursuits of this commercial city, people did
not come forward to assist me with the readiness I had been hitherto
accustomed to meet, and I had much to do before every obstacle was
overcome. It annoyed me also that the wealthy merchants to whom I was
recommended appeared as yet to know nothing of my artistic reputation,
and that though politely, they received me coldly. I was therefore
exceedingly desirous to be invited to some musical party, in order
to attract notice to my capabilities. This wish was gratified; I
received an invitation to a large evening party, with the request to
perform something. I selected for the occasion, one of the finest of
_Beethoven’s_ six new Quartetts, with my performance of which I had so
frequently charmed my audience in Brunswick. But already after a few
bars, I remarked that those who accompanied me were as yet unacquainted
with this music, and therefore unable to enter into the spirit of it.
If this already annoyed me, my dissatisfaction was much more increased
when I remarked that the company soon paid no more attention to my
play. For by degrees, a conversation began, that soon became so general
and so loud that it almost overpowered the music. I therefore rose up
in the midst of my playing, before even the first Theme was concluded,
and without uttering a word, hastened to replace my violin in its case.
This excited a great sensation among the company, and the master of
the house advanced towards me with an enquiring look. I went forward
to meet him, and said aloud, so as to be heard by the company: “I have
hitherto been accustomed to find my play listened to with attention.
As that has not been so here, I of course thought the company would
prefer that I discontinued.” The Master of the house knew not what
reply to make, and retired much embarrassed. But when, after having
apologised to the Musicians for breaking off so suddenly, I shewed the
intention to take my leave of the company, the host returned and said
in a friendly tone: “If you could be persuaded to play something else
for the company more adapted to their taste and capacity you will find
a very attentive and grateful auditory.” I, who had already clearly
comprehended, that I was most to blame for what had occurred, from my
misapprehension in the choice of music for _such_ an auditory, was glad
of the opportunity to conciliate matters. I therefore willingly resumed
my violin and played _Rode’s_ Quartett in _Es_, which the Musicians
knew and therefore well accompanied. A breathless silence now reigned,
and the interest shewn in my play increased with every passage. On
the conclusion of the Quartett so many flattering things were said to
me of my play, that I was induced now to parade my hobby-horse the
G-Major-Variations of _Rode_. With this I so enchanted the company that
I became the object of the most flattering attention for the remainder
of the evening.

This incident became the subject of conversation for many days, and
was probably the cause, that the musical-amateurs whose attention had
been thereby directed to me, came even to the rehearsal of my Concert
in considerable number. At this, I succeeded so well in winning them
over to me, by the execution of my D-Minor-Concerto, that before
the evening on which my Concert was to take place they had spread a
favourable account of my performances throughout the City, and thereby
a more numerous audience was attracted than I had dared to hope. The
élite of the musical amateurs of Leipsic and a very sympathetic public
were present. I now succeeded also in awakening such an enthusiasm in
my auditory, that at the conclusion of the concert I was vehemently
solicited to give a second. This took place a week later, and was one
of the most numerously attended that had ever been given by a foreign
artiste in Leipsic. In the meanwhile, I was frequently invited to
Quartett parties, at which, after I had previously practised them with
those who were to accompany me, I obtained more particularly a hearing
for my favorites the six first of _Beethoven’s_ Quartetts. I was the
first, who played them in Leipsic, and I succeeded in obtaining a full
appreciation of their excellence by my style of execution. At these
Quartett parties I also first made the acquaintance of the Editor of
the Musical-Journal, Councellor _Rochlitz_, and from that time till his
death maintained the most friendly relations with him. _Rochlitz_ wrote
a notice of my concert in his paper.

As that Notice first established my reputation in Germany, and had an
influence upon my career in life, it may serve as apology for my verbal
citation of it in this place:

“On the 10. December, 1804, Herr _Spohr_ gave a Concert in Leipsic, and
at the solicitation of many, a second, on the 17. in both of which he
afforded us a treat such as, so far as we can remember, no Violinist
with the exception of _Rode_ ever gave us. _Herr Spohr_ may without
doubt take rank among the most eminent violinists of the present day,
and one would be astonished at his powers, more especially when his
youth is considered, were it possible to pass from a sense of real
delight to cold astonishment. He gave us a grand Concerto of his own
composition (D-Minor), which was called for a second time, and another,
also from his own pen (E-Minor). His Concerti, rank with the finest
existing, and in particular, we know of no Violin Concerto, which can
take precedence of that in D-Minor, whether as regards conception,
soul and charm, or also, in respect of precision and firmness.
His peculiarity inclines mostly to the grand and to a soft dreamy
melancholy. And so it is with his brilliant play. Herr _Spohr_ can
execute everything; but he charms most by the former. As regards, in
the first place, correctness of play in the broadest sense, it is here,
as may be presupposed, as sure fundamental principle; a perfect purety,
surety and precision, the most remarkable execution; every manner of
bow-ing, every variety of violin-tone, the most unembarrassed ease in
the management of all these, even in the most difficult passages; these
constitute him one of the most accomplished virtuosi. But the soul
which he breathes into his play, the flights of fancy, the fire, the
tenderness, the intensity of feeling, the fine taste, and lastly his
insight into the spirit of the most different Compositions, and his art
of rendering each in its own peculiar spirit make him a real Artiste.
This last faculty we have never seen possessed in so remarkable a
degree as by Herr _Spohr_, and more especially in his Quartett-playing.
It is therefore not surprising that he should please everywhere, and
scarcely leaves any other sentiment behind, than the wish to detain and
to hear him always.”

I felt exceedingly happy that moment! But it was not alone the
recognition of my merits as an artiste that infused a new life into my
whole being: it was another, a more tender feeling. I loved and was
beloved.

The day after I saw and heard _Rosa Alberghi_ for the first time at the
Draper’s Hall Concert, I paid her a visit, to invite her to take part
at my concert. Both mother and daughter received me in a very friendly
manner. The former, although a resident in Germany for many years,
had not acquired one word of our language. As she also shook her head
on my addressing her in French, I was obliged to make my wishes known
to the daughter, who, educated in Dresden, spoke German fluently. She
very willingly assented to my request, and forthwith chatted with me a
child-like ingenuousness, as though we had long known each other. On my
taking leave, _Rosa_ asked me to come again soon. I had already gazed
too deeply into her brilliant dark eyes, to let her wait long for me.
And as the mother soon made me cordially welcome, I passed all my hours
of leisure at their house. I accompanied _Rosa_ in her singing practice
on the piano, to the best of my ability; assisted her in the study of
the Music sent to her by the Directors of the Concerts, and embellished
her Arias with new ornaments, at which she always evinced a really
child-like pleasure. In this manner, without our perceiving it, our
relations became constantly more tender. The notes in my Diary on this
subject had however come to a stop, nor were they afterwards resumed.
_Rosa_ now sang in my second Concert, and as her engagement in Leipsic
was drawing to a close, and that she was about to return to Dresden,
she offered also to sing in my concerts there.

I now therefore, left for Dresden, furnished with high recommendations.
A letter from _Rosa_ introduced me to her father, who received me in
the most friendly manner. He, with some members of the Dresden Royal
Orchestra, namely the brothers _Röthe_ assisted me in the arrangements
for my concert, and thereby made an always unpleasant business much
lighter for me.

_Rosa_ returned to Dresden a few days before the concert, and sang in
it with her father. The success which my play and compositions met
with, was even more brilliant than in Leipsic. As there, also, I was
invited on all sides to give a second concert. While I was making
arrangements for this, I was advised to announce myself also at Court,
as from the sensation which my Play had made, there could be no doubt
of a favourable result.

But, when I was informed, that the Court-Concerts took place during
Dinner and that no exception to the rule was made in favour of foreign
artistes, my youthful Artistic pride kindled with indignation at the
idea that my Play would be accompanied by the clatter of plates; so
that I immediately declined the honour, of playing at Court.

My second Concert was extremely well attended, and the applause almost
greater than at the first.

I now thought of my departure for Berlin, but could not make up my mind
to it; for the parting from my beloved _Rosa_ seemed too painful to
think of. When, on a sudden, her father surprised me with a proposal
which still further delayed the dreaded parting. He said, that he had
long wished his daughter should appear in Berlin, and if I had no
objection to give some concerts there together with her, as he was
himself unable to obtain leave of absence, his wife should accompany
her on the journey.

To this proposal with joy I acceded and immediately began to make every
preparation for our departure. As the journey by Coach, was considered
too fatiguing for the ladies, we hired a carriage together. I sat
opposite to my beloved one, and complained neither of the slowness
of our progress nor the length of the journey. Arrived in Berlin, we
found apartments all ready for us in the same house, which my former
Instructor _Kunisch_, now a member of the Berlin Royal Orchester,
had provided for us upon receipt of a letter from me announcing our
coming. The latter, not a little proud to introduce the young Artiste
as his former Pupil, procured for me the acquaintance of the most
distinguished artistes of Berlin, and was also of great assistance to
me in making arrangements for a concert, which nevertheless owing to
the great number of persons then giving concerts, was obliged to be
postponed for some time.

Meanwhile I delivered my letters of recommendation, and thereupon was
invited to some Music parties. I first played at _Prince Radziwill’s_,
himself well known as a distinguished Violoncellist, and talented
Composer. I there met _Bernhard Romberg_, _Möser_, _Seidler_,
_Semmler_, and other distinguished artistes. _Romberg_, then in the
zenith of his fame as a Virtuoso, played one of his Quartetts with
Violoncello obligato. I had never yet heard him, and I was charmed with
his play. Being now solicited to play something myself, I thought that
to such Artistes and Connoisseurs I could offer nothing more worthy
than my favorite Quartetts of _Beethoven_. But again I soon remarked
that, as at Leipsic, I had committed an error; for the musicians of
Berlin knew as little of those Quartetts as the Leipsickers, and
therefore could neither play nor appreciate them. When I had finished,
they praised my play, it is true, but spoke very disparagingly of what
I had performed. _Romberg_, even, said very bluntly: “But dear _Spohr_,
how can you play such stuff as that?” I was now quite doubtful of my
own taste, when I heard one of the most famous artistes of the day
express such an opinion of my favorites. Later in the evening when
again asked to play, I selected as I had done in Leipsic, _Rode’s_
Es-Major-Quartett, and was gratified by a similar favourable result in
this instance.

The second Music-party, to which also my fellow-travellers were
invited, was at Prince Louis Ferdinand’s of Prussia. We drove there
together, and were received by the host in the most courteous
manner. We there found a brilliant circle of decorated gentlemen
and fashionably dressed ladies, as also the principal artistes of
Berlin. I met there, also, a former acquaintance of Hamburgh, the
celebrated Pianist-Virtuoso and Composer _Dussek_, who was now
Instructor to the Prince, and resided in his house. The music commenced
with a Piano-Quartett, which was executed by him with real artistic
brilliancy. It was now my turn. Made wise by my recent experience, I
only selected such compositions, as I could shine in as Violinist,
namely: a Quartett, and the G-Major-Variations of _Rode_. My play met
with the most enthusiastic applause, and _Dussek_ in particular, seemed
delighted with it. My loved _Rosa_, also won general admiration by her
execution of an aria, in which she was accompained by _Dussek_ on the
piano.

After the conclusion of the music, the Prince offered his arm to one
of the Ladies present, and led the company who at a sign from him had
done the same, to the dining room, where a splendid supper had been
laid out. Each gentleman without ceremony took his place by the side of
his lady; and I by the side of my dear fellow-traveller. At first the
conversation though free and unembarrassed was yet marked with decorum.
But when the champagne began to circulate, many things were heard not
suited for the chaste ears of an innocent girl. As soon therefore as my
observation had led me to infer that the supposed distinguished ladies
did not belong to the Court as I had believed, but more probably to the
Ballet, I began to think of withdrawing unperceived from the company,
with my fellow-traveller. I succeeded also, without being remarked
or prevented, in making good our retreat; and reaching my carriage, I
returned with _Rosa_ to her expecting mother. The next day I was told
that the Prince’s Music-parties generally ended in similar orgies.

I still remember an other Music-party--it was at the house of the
Banker _Beer_--where I heard for the first time, the now so celebrated
_Meyerbeer_, play in his paternal house, then but a boy of thirteen
years of age. The talented lad already then excited so much attention
by his accomplished execution on the piano-forte, that his relatives
and admirers regarded him with the greatest pride. It is related,
that, one of these on returning from a Lecture on popular Astronomy
exclaimed full of joy to the boy’s parents “Only think! our _Beer_ has
been already placed among the Constellations! The Professor shewed us a
constellation, which in honour of him is called “the little _Beer_!”[6]

[6] This pun on the _idem sonans_ of the word “Beer” with “Bär” anglice
“Bear”, being almost as obvious in the English as the German, will be
readily understood by the reader.

I conceived the shrewd idea of inviting the young virtuoso to perform
a Solo in my Concert, this was willingly assented to by the family. As
it was the boy’s first appearance in public, it drew a crowd of his
admirers, and I may chiefly thank that circumstance for my concert
having been one of the most numerously attended of a period that teemed
with Musical performances. After overcoming numerous obstacles it
eventually took place in the theatre. My playing, and the singing of
my fair fellow traveller were received here as at Leipsic with great
applause. Not so favorable however was the criticism that appeared in
the new Musical Journal then but recently published by _Reichard_ the
Musical conductor of the Royal Orchestra. He animadverted in his own
peculiar offensive manner chiefly upon my easy _abandon_ in respect to
Time.

Although I felt hurt by such an imputation, to which I was not yet
accustomed, I was obliged to confess that yielding to my depth of
feeling, I had kept back in the Cantabile, perhaps, too much, and in
the Passages and more impassioned parts carried away by my youthful
fire, I had precipitated them too much. I therefore determined to
correct such blemishes in my execution without diminishing its force of
expression, and by unremitting attention I succeeded.

After several unavailing attempts to give a second concert in Berlin,
I was compelled to abandon the idea. I therefore divided the not
unconsiderable receipts of the first, with my fellow-traveller, and
began to think of my return to Brunswick, as the period of my leave of
absence was drawing to a close. _Rosa’s_ mother also made preparations
to return home, having failed in an endeavour to procure an engagement
for her daughter at the Italian Opera in Berlin.

_Rosa_ had daily evinced an increasing attraction towards me, and
manifested her partiality without disguise. I, on the contrary, on a
nearer acquaintance, was obliged to confess to myself that she was not
suited for a partner in life for me, and I therefore carefully avoided
being betrayed into any declaration. She was it is true, an amiable,
unspoiled girl, and richly endowed by nature; but her education, apart
from the polish of social forms, had been greatly neglected, and what
was more especially displeasing to me, was her bigotted piety, which
had once even led her to attempt the conversion of the Lutheran heretic
to the only true Church of salvation. I bore the parting with tolerable
self-controul; but _Rosa_ burst into tears, and with the last embrace
pressed into my hand a card with the letter _R_, worked upon it with
her beautiful black hair, as a souvenir.

Upon my return to Brunswick, I devoted myself with renewed zeal to
Composition. I wrote my H-Minor-Concerto, which was subsequently
published by _Simrock_ as Fourth Violin-Concerto. For the first time,
a foreign pupil was sent to me, one Herr _Grünewald_ from Dresden.
During my stay in Brunswick, I also gave lessons to a Miss _Mayer_,
a talented young lady of sixteen, who as Violiniste gave several
concerts at Brunswick with much applause; under my direction she
studied my concerto in D-Minor. This pupil, after a lapse of five
and twenty years, during which time I had heard nothing more of her,
suddenly excited a general interest, as much on account of her fate, as
of her accomplished execution on the violin.

On one of her earlier artistic-tours, when in Poland, she had there
married a landed-proprietor of considerable fortune. Although then in
affluent circumstances, she never neglected the further cultivation
of her great talent, though only as amateur. This enabled her, after
her husband had lost his whole fortune in the Polish revolution,
and had become a refugee, to support herself and her daughter. As
Madame _Filipowicz_, she again made her appearance as an artiste, in
Dresden, and played there the same D-Minor-Concerto she had studied
under me five and twenty years before. As she considered that she was
chiefly indebted for her now increasing success to her rendering of
that Concerto, she felt impelled to express her thanks to her former
Instructor in a letter. It was thus I became acquainted with the above
circumstances. After her artistic-tour through Germany, she settled in
Paris, and at a later period in London. From both places I received
several letters from her. Upon my last journey but one to London, when
I had hoped to have seen her again, I was informed that she had died
a few days before my arrival, and I only made the acquaintance of her
daughter, and of her husband, who was a Doctor, and also a Polish
refugee.

But to return to the year 1805. In the spring, I received a letter from
_Rosa_, in which with her ingenuous simplicity she said, that, so great
had her longing become to see me again, that she had prevailed on her
father to make an artistic tour to Brunswick; that she would arrive in
a few days, and begged me to make the preliminary arrangements for a
concert. I was not best pleased with this intelligence, and foresaw
that great embarrassments might arise from it. I now perceived with
regret that _Rosa’s_ inclination towards me was much more earnest
than I had beleived, and I reproached myself bitterly for my conduct
towards her. It was also evident to me, that her father had only
undertaken this journey to bring me to some declaration in respect to
his daughter. I therefore looked forward to their arrival with great
anxiety. But everything passed off much better than I had anticipated.
_Rosa’s_ heartfelt joy, to see me again, her lively unsuspecting
simplicity, which did not permit her to feel the least doubt of a
reciprocity of her feelings, assisted me to the avoidance of any
explanation. Thus, after a fortnight’s stay, they left Brunswick and
returned to Dresden, very satisfied with their visit, and the brilliant
Concert which my assistance obtained for them; and it was arranged that
I should visit them after my projected journey to Vienna, in the autumn.

As they wished to return by way of Göttingen, I gave them a letter
of introduction to my parents. During a stay of several days with
my parents, _Rosa_ so won their hearts by her amiability, that
with unhesitating confidence she confessed her love for their son.
Concluding from this, that I returned her affection, my parents had
embraced her as my betrothed. I was greatly allarmed when I learned
this in a letter from my father; protested against this engagement, and
assigned as ground for my refusal, _Rosa’s_ want of education, and the
difference in our religious faith. My father would not see the matter
in this light, and repeatedly declared that I was a fool, to refuse so
charming a girl.

In June 1805, I received a letter from _Bärwolf_, a Musician of
the Ducal Orchestra at Gotha, who was unknown to me, that greatly
influenced my destiny. Herr _Bärwolf_ wrote to inform me of a vacancy
that had taken place in the Orchestra there, by the death of the
Director _Ernst_, and that the Intendant, Baron _von Leibnitz_, who
had read so favorable a notice of my performances in the Leipsic
Musical-Journal, was very desirous to recommend me to that post, if
I would make immediate application for it. But, for this, it was
required that I should repair personally to Gotha. He therefore invited
me to come and play at the Concert that was to take place at Court on
the 11. July, in celebration of the birth-day of the dutchess.

Extremely pleased at this, I hastened to the Duke, to request his
consent to my journey. I received it, and immediately announced this at
Gotha. Arrived there, Herr _Bärwolf_ introduced me to the Intendant.
The latter appeared astonished to see before him so young a man, and
said with a thoughtful expression of countenance, that I appeared to
him almost too young to place at the head of so many men, all older
than myself. But after I had conducted two Overtures at the rehearsal,
and executed my Concerto in D-Minor, the Herr Intendant, had quite
changed his mind, for he requested me to conceal my real age, and to
give myself out as four or five years older. I was therefore introduced
to the Court as a competitor for the situation, of twenty fours years
of age. But the resort to such a deceit was indeed scarcely requisite
to obtain it, for on my first appearance at the Court-Concert I won
the favour of the Dutchess so completely, that the other competitors
were all obliged to retire. By a Decree of the 5. August, 1805, I
was installed as Concert-Director to the Ducal Court of Gotha, with
a salary of nearly five hundred thalers, inclusive of allowances, my
service duties to commence on the 1. October.

As my leave of absence was not quite expired, by the advice of Herr
_Bärwolf_, before returning to Brunswick, I made a little excursion to
Wilhelmsthal near Eisenach, the family seat of the Court of Weimar.
With the recommendation of the Dutchess of Gotha it was easy for me to
obtain a hearing. I played, pleased greatly, and on leaving, received
a handsome present. On my return to Gotha, I gave in haste, a Concert
that had been meanwhile arranged for there, which was also attended
by the Court, and then set out on my return to my native town highly
gratified with the result of my journey. I went by way of Seesen, and
was joyfully congratulated by my parents and the friends of my family
upon the new dignity conferred upon me. In order to make the rest of
the journey more pleasant for me, my father lent me his saddle-horse,
and thus conduced to give my hitherto prosperous journey a tragical
end; for a few leagues from Brunswick, while riding homewards at a
sharp trot, absorbed in deep thought upon the future, and paying but
little attention to the road, the horse fell, his foot having caught
in a deep rut, and threw his rider rudely to the ground. I fell over
the horse’s head with my face upon a small heap of broken road-stones,
before I could spread out my hands sufficiently to break my fall; my
face was therefore cut in such a manner by the sharp stones, that the
blood flowed profusely. In a few minutes also, the wounds became so
swollen as almost to close my eyes. Half blind, and wholly unable to
help myself, I stood in the road, until at length some foot-passengers
came to my assistance. After they had caught my horse, they led me
to the nearest village. They there procured for me a four wheeled
peasant’s-cart, with straw spread out in it, upon which I was brought
in the most deplorable condition to my lodgings at a late hour in
the evening. A Doctor having been sent for, he ordered my face to be
bathed and bound with linen-rags steeped in Goulard water, which being
continued throughout the night, the swelling had so much subsided by
the morning, that I could again open my eyes. After the Doctor had
carefully examined my face, and allayed my anxiety respecting all
further results from my fall; I soon recovered my cheerfulness of
mood, and alone lamented that I could not immediately wait upon my
noble Patron to solicit his permission to accept the situation of the
Directorship. But as meanwhile I was not without some anxiety, lest my
benefactor, to whom I was so greatly indebted, might take it ill that
I could thus leave his service, I was rather pleased that my accident
furnished me with an excuse to address a letter to the duke. But I
had judged him wrongfully; for on the following day I received the
solicited permission in his own handwriting. I have carefully preserved
that letter as a cherished Memorial, and cannot deny myself the
pleasure of quoting it here, as follows:

  My dear Herr _Spohr_.

 I have read with much interest the successful result of your
 performance at Wilhelmsthal and Gotha. The advantageous offer made
 to you at Gotha is such as your talents well merit, and as I have
 always taken great interest in your fortune and success, I can but
 congratulate you on your appointment to a position where you will
 undoubtedly find more opportunity for the exercise of your talent.

  I remain very respectfully
  your well wisher
  _Carl W. Ferd_.

Releived now of my last anxiety, I was truly happy. But it occurred
to me, that in this letter, the Duke addressed me for the first time
“_You_”, while hitherto he had always honoured me with the benevolent,
fatherly “_Thou_”. I nevertheless consoled myself readily with the
reflexion, that the Duke might have thought it more becoming so to
address a person leaving his service.

In about a fortnight or three weeks, my face was so far healed, that I
could again announce myself ready to resume my orchestral duties.

Before I had done so, I received a letter from _Dussek_, who wrote to
say that his master, Prince _Louis Ferdinand_, was about to proceed to
the grand military manoeuvres at Magdeburg, and wished that I should
be his guest during that time, in order to give my assistance at the
projected Music-parties there. The Prince would himself write to the
Duke to solicit the leave of absence for me. This was immediately
granted. I therefore proceeded to Magdeburg, and found in the house
which the Prince had taken for himself and his suite, a room also,
for me. I now led an extraordinary, wild and active life, which
nevertheless suited my youthful taste right well for a short time.
Frequently at six o’clock in the morning, were _Dussek_ and I roused
from our beds and conducted in dressing-gown and slippers to the
Reception-saloon, where the Prince was already seated at the pianoforte
in yet lighter costume, the heat being then very great, and indeed,
generally in his shirt and drawers only. Now began the practice and
rehearsal of the music that was intended to be played in the evening
circles, and from the Prince’s zeal, this lasted frequently so long,
that in the meantime the saloon was filled with Officers decorated,
and bestarred. The costume of the Musicians contrasted then somewhat
strangely with the brilliant uniforms of those who had come to pay
their court to the Prince. But this did not trouble his Royal Highness
in the least, neither would he leave off until everything had been
practised to his satisfaction. Then we finished our toilet in all
haste, snatched as hasty a breakfast, and rode off to the review.
I had a horse appropriated to me from the Prince’s stud, and was
permitted to ride with his suite. In this manner for a time to my
great amusement, I took part in all the warlike evolutions. But, one
day I found myself jammed in close to a battery, where I was obliged
to endure for more than an hour a truly hellish-noise, and when in
the evening at the Music party I found that I could not hear so
distinctly as before, I held back from the warlike spectacle and from
that time spent those hours in which the Prince did not require me,
with my former acquaintances in Magdeburg. In the house of the Privy
Counsellor _Schäfer_ I met with a most friendly welcome. His daughter
_Jettchen_, who, previously, while residing in Brunswick, in the house
of her brother-in-law the Conductor _Le Gaye_ had been an object of
my admiration, was now returned to her paternal home, and here also
performed the part of a kind and attentive hostess to me.

Soon, however, the Prince was recalled from his exile to Magdeburg, and
dismissed by him with friendly thanks, I could now return to Brunswick.
_Dussek_ on taking leave of me, told me that the Prince had intended
to have made me a present, but that his purse was at so low an ebb,
he must postpone it to a later and more favorable time. But that time
never came; for the Prince found an early death in the following year
in an action near Saalfeld. In the beginning of October, after an
honourable discharge from the Duke’s service had been duly made out for
me, I left my native town. On my taking leave, the Duke said to me with
truly paternal benevolence, as he extended his hand to me: “should you
dear _Spohr_ find your new place unpleasant to you, you can re-enter my
service at any time.”

I parted with my benefactor, deeply moved; and alas! never saw him
more,--for as is well known he fell mortally wounded at the unfortunate
battle of Jena, and died a fugitive in a foreign land. I mourned for
him, as for a father.

Arrived in Gotha, I was introduced to the members of the Ducal
Orchestra by the Intendant Baron _von Leibnitz_, as Concert-Director,
and made acquainted with my sphere of duties. This consisted, both in
winter and summer, in the arrangement of a concert at Court every week,
and in practising and rehearsing the orchestra in the music chosen
for the occasion. As the orchestra had no other duties beyond these
concerts, I was enabled to have three or four rehearsals of each, and
to practise all that was to be performed at these with the greatest
precision. By my zeal, and the good-will of the members, I soon
succeeded in attaining an exceeding accuracy of _ensemble_ which was
recognised by the Dutchess and some of the Musical-connoisseurs in the
Court-circle, and elicited much praise.

The orchestra consisted in part of musicians of the Ducal Chamber, and
in part of Court-hautboyists. It was the duty of the latter to play
also during the repasts, and at Court-balls. Among the musicians of the
Chamber, there was a whole bevy of solo-players. The chief were: on the
violin, Madame _Schlick_ and Messrs. _Preissing_ and _Bärwolf_; on the
violoncello, Messrs. _Schlick_, _Preissing jun._ and _Rohde_; on the
clarionet, bassoon and harp, Herr _Backhofen_; on the hautboy, Herr
_Hofmann_; and Herr _Walch_ on the horn.

For the vocal parts at the Court-Concerts two Court-singers Mesdames
_Scheidler_ and _Reinhard_ were engaged. The husband of the latter
accompained the vocalists on the piano-forte. Being the oldest member
of the orchestra, he had warmly competed for the vacant post of
Conductor; and as the Duke’s musical instructor, some regard was due
to him; he also, therefore, had the title of Concert-Master conferred
upon him on my appointment, and his rescript was even of anterior
date to mine. For this reason he at first made some weak attempts, to
assume the direction of the vocal performances. But I knew so well how
to overawe him by my decisive bearing as first Violin, that he soon
succumbed as willingly to my lead at the pianoforte, as at the viol, on
which he performed in the instrumental music. I was also soon enabled
to overcome the opposition of the _Schlick_ family who relied on the
favour of Prince _Augustus_, the Duke’s uncle, and then undisturbedly
maintained my directorial-position.

In the introductory visits I made to the members of the orchestra I was
received most cordially by the Court-singer Madame _Scheidler_. She
introduced me to her daughter _Dorette_, of the age of eighteen, of
whose skill upon the harp and pianoforte I had already heard much. In
this charming _blondine_ I recognised the girl whom I had seen on my
first visit to Gotha, and whose pleasing form had since then frequently
recurred to my memory. At the Concert which I then gave in that town,
she had sat in the first row of the auditory, by the side of a female
friend, who upon my appearance, astonished at so tall a figure,
exclaimed rather louder than she had intended: “Just look, _Dorette_,
what a long hop-pole!” Upon hearing this exclamation, my eye fell upon
the girls, and I saw _Dorette_ blush with embarrassment. With a similar
graceful blush she now again stood before me, probably recollecting
that circumstance. To put an end therefore to a situation so painful to
me, I entreated her to play something on the harp. Without the least
affectation she complied with my wish.

When a boy, I had myself once made an attempt to learn the harp, and
took lessons of one Herr _Hasenbalg_ in Brunswick, when I soon got
so far as to be able to accompany my songs. But after my voice had
broken, and that for a considerable time I remained without any voice
at all, the harp was neglected, and at length wholly laid aside. My
predilection for that instrument had nevertheless remained the same;
and I had given my attention to it sufficiently long, to know, how
difficult it is, if one would play more than mere accompaniments upon
it. My astonishment and delight may therefore be imagined, when I
heard so young a girl execute a difficult “Fantasia” of her instructor
_Backofen_, with the greatest confidence, and with the finest shades
of expression. I was so deeply moved, that I could scarce restrain
my tears. Bowing in silence, I took my leave;--but my heart remained
behind! Irresistibly impelled, my visits now became frequent, and my
reception more friendly every time.

I accompanied the daughter on the piano, which she played with the
same excellence as the harp, assisted the mother in the practise of
her songs for the Court-Concerts, and so made myself more and more
necessary to the family. The first piece that I composed in Gotha,
was a grand “Vocal Scena” for a soprano voice, which I dedicated to
_Dorette’s_ mother, and which she sang with great applause at one
of the Court-Concerts. For myself and the daughter, I then wrote a
Concerted Sonata for violin and harp, which I practised with her in the
most careful manner. They were happy hours!

Thus, after my arrival, had a month passed away for me in the most
agreable manner, when the Court set out for the session of Parliament
at Altenburg and took the orchestra with it. _Dorette_ also accompanied
her mother thither. I offered myself to them as a travelling-companion,
but unfortunately made my application too late, for they had already
arranged to travel in company with Messrs. _Preissing_, the brothers
of Madame _Scheidler_. I was therefore obliged to seek other
travelling-companions; but at every place where we stopped to take
refreshment I did not fail to join immediately the _Scheidler_ family,
and always contrived to get possession of the place at table next to
_Dorette_. These meetings after a separation of four or five hours,
gave a peculiar charm to the otherwise long and tedious journey, so
much so indeed, that when at length on the evening of the third day we
entered the gates of Altenburg, it seemed too short to me. I was lodged
in the house of Secretary _Brummer_ who as a great lover of music had
begged that I might become his guest. I met with the most friendly
reception and a well furnished table. But I had previously arranged to
dine always at Madame _Scheidler’s_, who like an active housewife had
immediately established a kitchen of her own, for herself and brothers.
Henceforth, treated almost like a member of the family, I had full
opportunity to become more nearly acquainted with my beloved _Dorette_.
Her father, an excellent musician, and a man of scientific attainments,
had, up to his death, which had taken place two years before, devoted
himself entirely to the education and improvement of this daughter.
With an almost extreme severity he had compelled her not only from her
earliest childhood to pursue the study of Music, but also, instructed
her, in part personally, and partly through the medium of other able
teachers in every branch of education suitable to a young female.
She therefore spoke Italian and French with the greatest fluency and
wrote her mother tongue with ease and correctness. But her brilliant
execution both on the harp and pianoforte was already then despite her
youth, truly remarkable! Yes, even upon the violin on which instrument
her uncle _Preissing_ gave her instruction, she had acquired so much
skill, that she could play _Viotti’s_ Duetts with me. But as I advised
her to discontinue the practise of that instrument so unbecoming for
females, and to devote rather her undivided study to the two others,
she adopted my advice and from that moment gave it up.

Meanwhile the Court-concerts had commenced. They took place in a
large saloon in the Palace, very favourable for music, and together
with the Court were attended by the parliamentary Deputies and by the
dignitaries of the town. The orchestra, as well as the performances
both of myself and the other soloplayers met with great applause.
_Dorette’s_ Soli’s on the harp and piano made also a great sensation.
In this manner the concert-days were soon looked forward to by the
Altenburgers as real festival days, and the auditory encreased so much
in number each time, that at length there was scarcely room for their
accommodation. There were also many private Music-parties, at which I
and the members of the _Scheidler_ family never failed to be invited.
One day, however, I was invited with _Dorette_, but without her mother,
to a Fête given by the Minister _von Thümmel_, to the Court and its
immediate circle. We were requested to reproduce my Sonata for the
harp und violin, which we had already played with great success at the
Court-concerts. With some timidity I ventured to ask whether I might
fetch _Dorette_ in the carriage, and felt delighted beyond measure,
when her mother without hesitation gave her consent. Thus alone for the
first time with the beloved girl, I felt the impulse to make a full
confession of my feelings towards her; but my courage failed me, and
the carriage drew up, before I had been able to utter a syllable. As I
held out my hand to her to alight, I felt by the tremor of hers, how
great had also been her emotion. This gave me new courage, and I had
almost plumped out with my declaration of love upon the very stairs,
had not the door of the Reception-saloon been thrown open at the same
moment.

That evening we played with an inspiration and a sympathy of feeling
that not alone carried us wholly away, but so electrified the company
also, that all rose spontaneously, and gathering round us, overwhelmed
us with praise. The Dutchess whispered some words in _Dorette’s_ ear,
which brought blushes to her cheek.

I interpreted them as favorable to me, and now on the drive home I at
length found courage to say: “Shall we thus play together for life?”
Bursting into tears, she sank into my arms; the compact for life was
sealed! I led her to her mother, who joined our hands and gave us her
blessing.

The next morning I announced my happiness to my parents. But before I
could enjoy it without alloy, I felt compelled to write another letter,
and one which was to me a most disagreable task. I felt the injustice
of my conduct towards _Rosa_, and the necessity to ask her forgiveness.
I had it is true, never made a declaration of my love to her; but it
had been but too apparent in the earlier period of our acquaintance. To
that was added moreover, the circumstance that, my parents had greeted
her in Seesen as my betrothed. What the arguments were that I resorted
to in exculpation of my injustice, I no longer remember at this
distance of time. Probably I may have again adverted to the difference
of religion, which could alone serve me as excuse for my withdrawal.
The letter was at length finished; and with a lightened heart I took it
to the post. I anxiously expected an answer; but none came. At a later
period I learned that _Rosa_ had returned to Italy with her parents
who had acquired some fortune in Germany. Some years afterwards, I was
told when in Dresden, that _Rosa_, led by her devotional turn of mind,
had retired to a convent, and after the year’s novitiate had taken the
veil. I never could think of that charming maiden without sentiments of
the deepest sorrow!

At the dinner-table on the following day all appeared in full dress;
it was to celebrate our betrothal. The news of this had soon spread
through the town, and not only the members of the Ducal orchestra,
but also many of the inhabitants of the place came to felicitate the
engaged couple. At the next concert the same took place on the part of
the Dutchess and the Court.

With the end of the year, the session of Parliament drew also to a
close, and the return of the Court to Gotha was already spoken of,
when I solicited an eight day’s leave of absence to go to Leipsic in
order to give a concert there. Preparatory to that, I had already made
enquiries of my friends of the foregoing year, and received from them
the most favorable assurances. My bride, and her mother accompanied me,
to appear also in the same concert. This therefore offered a diversity
of attraction to the public, and consequently the attendance was
very numerous. I played a new Violin-Concerto in C-Major (published
by _Kühnel_ as the third) which I had begun in Gotha and finished at
Altenburg. Both my playing and composition found as warm a reception
as in the previous year. My bride also met with the most enthusiastic
applause. She played _Backhofen’s_ Fantasia, and with me the new
Sonata. On this occasion, it was again our combined play that was
considered the most brilliant performance of the evening. The mother,
a singer possessed of a powerful, pleasing tone, and of a good school,
executed, accompanied by her daughter, the aria of _Mozart_ with
Pianoforte obligato, as also, my new vocal-Scena, with great success.

Highly satisfied with the result of our undertaking, we returned to
Altenburg, and shortly afterwards with the Court to Gotha.

Madame _Scheidler_ resided there in a very roomy and well furnished
house, of which without feeling in the least inconvenienced, she
could readily give up to me an apartment or two. As she offered to
take my brother _Ferdinand_ who as my pupil lived with me, together
with ourselves as boarders, nothing therefore stood in the way of
my immediate marriage. The wedding was accordingly fixed for the
2. February, 1806. I hastened therefore, to procure the documents,
requisite for the occasion, my certificate of baptism, and the consent
of my parents. To my regret, they were unable to bring this to me in
person, as my father dare not leave his patients, some of whom were
dangerously ill, but they sent my brother _William_[7] to be a witness
to my happiness.

[7] Afterwards architect to the Court of Brunswick, and father of the
well known harpiste _Rosalie Spohr_.

It created no little astonishment when I produced my certificate of
baptism, that instead of growing older in Gotha, I had become several
years younger! But as I had already sufficiently established my
authority as Concert-Director I experienced no subsequent prejudice
from this discovery.

The ardently desired 2. February, dawned at length. At the request
of the Dutchess who wished to be present, the marriage took place
in the Palace-chapel. Upon the conclusion of the ceremony the newly
married pair received the felicitations and wedding-presents of their
illustrious Patroness. At home, we found assembled as wedding-guests,
the two uncles _Preissing_ and several other of the most intimate
friends among the members of the Ducal orchestra, as also Cantor
_Schade_, an old friend of the _Scheidler_ family. After dinner many
others came. Among these the playmates and school-fellows of _Dorette_.
All brought with them their friendly gifts. Neither was she wanting who
had compared me to a hop-pole, and as punishment for the unbecoming
comparison, she was frequently obliged to endure a little raillery. As
the weather was too unfavourable for an excursion, or promenade, music
was kept up till a late hour in the evening.

In the midst of Music also, the happy pair passed the honeymoon. I
began forthwith a diligent study of the harp, in order to ascertain
thoroughly what was best adapted to the character of the instrument.
As I was prone to a richness of modulation in my compositions, it
was therefore requisite to make myself especially well acquainted
with the pedals of the harp, so as to write nothing that would be
impracticable for them. This could not readily occur, on account of the
great accuracy with which my wife had already then mastered the whole
Technics of the instrument. I therefore gave free play to my fancy, and
soon succeeded in obtaining wholly new effects from the instrument.

As the Harp sounded most advantageously in combination with the singing
tones of my Violin, I wrote more especially Concerted compositions
for both instruments alone. At a later period, it is true, I made
trial, also, of two Concertanti with Orchestral accompaniment, and of
a Trio for Harp, Violin and Violoncello; but as I found that every
Accompaniment only disturbed our mutual and deeply felt harmony of
action, I soon abandoned it.

Another attempt to obtain a greater effect, had however, a more
successful result. I conceived the idea of pitching the harp half a
tone lower than the violin. By so doing I gained in two ways. For, as
the violin sounds most brilliantly in the cross or sharp notes, but the
harp best in the B-tones or flat notes, when the fewest pedals possible
are moved; I thereby obtained for both instruments the most favourable
and most effective key-notes: for the violin namely, D and G; for the
harp E and A-flat. A second advantage was, that, from the lower tuning
of the harp, a string would less frequently break, which in public
performances in very warm rooms so frequently happens to the harpist,
and mars the enjoyment of the hearers. From this time therefore, I
wrote all my Compositions for harp and violin in that difference of the
keys.

_Dorette_, forcibly attracted by these new Compositions, devoted at
that time her attention exclusively to the study of the harp, and soon
obtained such a brilliant execution, that I felt an eager desire to
exhibit this before a larger public than that of the Court-concerts
of Gotha. As I beleived also, to have now perfected my own Play in a
manner such as no other could readily surpass, I resolved to set out
on an Artistic tour with my wife in the ensuing autumn. I had already
stipulated for such a leave of absence upon receiving my appointment,
and it had been acceded to in consideration of my then small salary.

Meanwhile as the autumn drew near, a twofold obstacle presented itself
to the execution of my cherished projects. The war between Prussia and
France threatened to break out. The Prussian army prepared for the
struggle, was already assembled in the neighbourhood of Gotha, and the
inhabitants of the Dutchy had much to endure from the billeting, and
overbearing insolence of the Prussians.

Even though I might have been able to take my journey in a direction
that would have carried us from the tumult of war, yet when my home was
in danger of becoming the scene of conflict, I could not well leave it
in such an extremity. Then, one day, with blushing cheek and beaming
eyes, my little wife imparted to me that towards the end of winter she
looked forward to a mother’s joys. Now, therefore, indeed it was no
longer possible to think of undertaking a journey, and all hesitation
on the subject was set at rest. I therefore bethought me of some
engrossing work that would distract my attention as much as possible
from all the anxieties of the times. I had long wished to try my hand
at a Dramatic composition; but I had never yet found a favourable
opportunity. Neither, indeed, did that present itself now, for Gotha
possessed no Theatre. Yet, I thought; if the opera were once written,
some opportunity to hear it might yet present itself. Just at that
time, I received a visit from a companion of my youth _Edward Henke_
my mother’s youngest brother, afterwards Professor of Jurisprudence
at the university of Halle, who had already met with some success in
lyrical compositions. I persuaded him to write the words of an opera
for me. We cogitated together the subject-matter, and the scenes, of a
one act Opera, to which we gave the Name of “Die Prüfung” (The Trial).
_Edward_ began forthwith the composition of the Song-parts and finished
them wholly before his departure. He promised to supply the dialogue
afterwards.

But before I could begin my work, the storm of war broke loose. The
battle of Jena had been fought; and with that, the fate of Prussia
decided. The Prussians who had lain in and around Gotha, and who but
shortly before had been so-overbearing in their demeanour were now seen
flying in the greatest confusion. The disorganisation of their troops
was so complete, that their arms were to be found in thousands strewn
over the fields near Gotha. In a walk I took a few days afterwards, I
found as a further gleaning, a ramrod, which I took home with me as a
reminiscence of that fatal day. Suspended from a thread it gave with
a clear sound the note _B_, once struck, and served me for many years
instead of a tuning-fork when tuning the harp.

Although after the advance of the French army in pursuit, the theatre
of war was soon removed farther and farther from Gotha; yet the
quartering of troops upon the inhabitants was no less continuous.
Fresh reinforcements of French and South-German troops were constantly
moved forward in support; and a greater part of the Prussian prisoners
taken at Jena, was brought through Gotha. These came in bodies of
from 3 to 4000 men of all arms, frequently escorted by 40 or 50
voltigeurs, only, and were shut up in the great Church on the market
place, opposite to our dwelling, with merely a few sentries mounting
guard over them before the closed doors. As the nights were already
very cold, the men in their thin uniforms must indeed have been nearly
frozen. For that reason also they kept up a continual noise and outcry.
The inhabitants of the houses in the neighbourhood, in constant dread
that the prisoners from their greatly superior numbers would liberate
themselves, were obliged to keep continually on the watch, and for many
nights together could not retire to rest.

This, therefore, was by no means the most propitious time for me to
attempt a style of composition that was quite new to me. But as my
study was situated near the garden, at a distance from the noise in
the streets, I soon succeeded in forgetting every thing around me, and
gave myself up heart and soul to my work. In this manner, before half
the winter had passed, I completed the composition of the 8 “Numbers”
of the Opera, together with the Overture. The four Song-parts in
these, permitted of being well rendered by the Female Court-singers
and two Dillettanti whose assistance I had already obtained for
the Court-concerts. I therefore had the opera written out with all
despatch, practised it carefully, and then played it as Concert-Music
at one of the Court-concerts.

Great as at first was my satisfaction with the new work, I nevertheless
soon became sensible of its deficiencies, and weak points. With every
successive rehearsal these were made more clear to me, and even before
its production in public took place, the Opera (with the exception of
the Overture and one aria for a tenor-voice) had become distasteful to
me. Even the great applause it had met with from those who executed it,
and those who heard it, could not reconcile me the more to it; so that
I laid it aside, and with the exception of the two “Numbers” mentioned,
I never played any thing more of it in public. But with this feeling of
dissatisfaction with my work I was truly unhappy; for I now thought to
perceive that I had no talent for Operatic compositions. There were,
however, two things which I had forgotten duly to consider; first, that
I had assumed a much too elevated style, for I had put my Opera upon
a par with those of _Mozart_, and secondly, that I was wholly wanting
in the practice and experience requisite for this kind of composition.
This did not occur to me till some years afterwards, and encouraged me
then to make another attempt at dramatic composition.

For the present, I again devoted myself wholly to Instrumental
composition; wrote the already mentioned Concertanti for Harp and
Violin with full orchestra; a Fantasia (op. 35) and Variations (op.
36) for Harp-Solo; and, for myself, my Fifth Violin Concerto (op.
17. published by _Nägeli_ of Zurich) and the Pot-Pourri (op. 22, at
_André’s_ in Offenbach).

As _Dorette_ anticipated her confinement in the spring, it was
impossible we could remain longer in the limited accommodation of her
mother’s house, and we were now obliged to furnish a house of our own.
This took place at Easter 1807.

Shortly after, on the 27. May, we were gladdened by the birth of a
little daughter. I now had to invite the Duke as Godfather to the
new-born, he having already previously offered himself for that post
of honour. On the day of the Christening, he made his appearance, in
the full splendour of his Ducal rank, accompanied by the dignitaries
of his Court and followed by the idlers of the town, who attracted
by the grandeur of the rarely used state carriage and its occupants,
stared with astonishment to see it draw up before my house, at the door
of which I received him, and conducted him to the apartment decorated
with garlands of flowers. The ceremony began, and the new-born was
christened _Emilie_, after the Duke’s second Name, Emilius.

To my great regret, my parents could not take part in this delightful
family festival. And yet, in the previous summer, when on a visit
at Seesen, I had introduced my dear wife to them, and had the
gratification to see not only that they soon evinced much affection for
her, but the satisfaction also, that my father was obliged to admit I
might not have been so happy with _Rosa_, even had my love for her been
more lasting.

As soon as _Dorette_ had fully regained her strength, she began anew
to practise the recently finished compositions for the Harp, in order
to prepare herself for our projected artistic tour. But while thus
engaged, she became more and more convinced of the defects of the
instrument she had hitherto used, a Strasburg pedal-harp, which she
had received as a present from the Dutchess. It was therefore decided
in a family consultation, to apply a small capital appertaining to
her as inheritance, to the purchase of another, and a better harp.
Herr _Backofen_, had such an instrument, a very superior one, by
_Nadermann_ of Paris, and was disposed to part with it to his pupil for
a moderate price. This, therefore, was purchased. Of _Dorette’s_ small
inheritance there yet remained a few hundred thalers, to expend in the
acquisition of an indispensible convenience for travelling, namely a
travelling-carriage, constructed at the same time for the transport of
the harp. For a considerable time I turned over in my mind the form of
build best adapted to this purpose. There were two things that required
especial consideration; first, that it should not be too expensive,
and secondly that it should be sufficiently light for one pair of
post-horses. At length I hit upon the right plan. I ordered a long, but
not too heavy Basket-carriage to be built, with a chaise compartment
behind for the travellers. In front of this between the basket-sides,
lay the box for the harp, slung by leather straps, and covered with a
leather apron, which fastened by means of a bar of iron hooking into
the chaise-seat in front of the occupants. Under this was a seat-box
to hold the violin-case, and behind it a larger one to contain a trunk
adapted to the space, in which all the other travelling requisites
could be packed. In front, above the harp-box, was the raised seat for
the driver. A trial trip, for which the carriage was completely packed,
shewed that it fully answered the object proposed. Thus, therefore,
every thing was in readiness for our artistic tour.

After a painful leave-taking of our child, of whom my mother-in-law
undertook the care, we set out on our journey, in the middle of
October. As I unfortunately kept no diary upon this and our subsequent
journey from Gotha, I am left wholly to my somewhat faint recollections
of that period, which have been but sparingly refreshed by a few
notices in the Leipsic Musical-Journal. Of a diary kept by my wife at
that period, but which she never let me see, I have neither been able
to find anything since her death. Probably, it was destroyed by her in
after years.

On the very first day, our journey began in a very ominous manner,
by the overturning of our carriage at a place between Erfurt and
Weimar, where there was at that time no paved high-road. Fortunately,
however, neither the travellers nor their instruments were injured,
we therefore considered ourselves very fortunate to have escaped with
the fright only. No such accident re-occurred to us on any of our
numerous journeys. In Weimar, whither we took letters of introduction
from the Dutchess of Gotha, we played at Court with great applause, and
received a munificent present from the Hereditary Grand Dutchess, the
Princess _Maria_. Among the auditory at the Court-Concert were the two
Poet-heros _Goethe_ and _Wieland_. The latter seemed quite charmed with
the play of the artiste-couple, and evinced it in his own animated and
friendly manner. _Goethe_, also, addressed a few words of praise to us
with a dignified coldness of mien.

In Leipsic, as I perceive from a notice in the Musical-Journal, we
gave a concert on the 27. October. The opinion therein expressed of
the compositions I played on that occasion, namely the Overture to the
“Prüfung”, the Violin-Concerto in Es, the first Concertante for Harp
and Violin, the Potpourri in B, and the Fantasia for the Harp, was very
favorable. As regards our play, it says:

“Respecting the play of Herr _Spohr_, and his wife, we have already
spoken in detail, and here alone add, that he has entirely corrected
himself of many of the too arbitrary mannerisms (in Time, and the like)
which he had acquired, and of which we had now and then complained;
and, without a doubt, as regards Tone and Expression, Surety and Skill,
both in _Allegro_ and in _Adagio_ (in the latter more especially,
in our opinion) he now takes rank among the foremost of all living
Violinists: and Madame _Spohr_, by her great skill, neatness and
feeling in her play, is certain to meet with the most distinguished
reception.”

Of Dresden, where we also gave a Concert and also, if I do not mistake
this occasion for a later one--played at Court (though certainly not
during dinner, to which neither of us would have consented) I recollect
nothing more particular. But I well remember many circumstances
of our stay at Prague. My fame had not yet reached there, and at
first I had many difficulties to contend with. These, however, were
forthwith overcome when I and my wife had played at a Soirée given
by the Princess Hohenzollern, and when that lady declared herself
our Patroness. We now immediately became the fashion, and the
_beau-monde_ came in crowds to the two concerts we gave in the City
so famed for its cultivation of Art. We had therefore full reason to
be satisfied with our stay there. This is also confirmed by a notice
in the Musical-Journal beginning as follows: “Among the strangers
who have given concerts, the third was Herr _Spohr_, the celebrated
Director of Concerts to the Duke of Saxe-Gotha. Herr _Spohr_ performed
on the Violin, as did his wife on the Pedal-Harp. It will be long
before another artiste will have such reason to be satisfied with the
reception he met here as Herr _Spohr_, and of a certainty every friend
of Art, will acknowledge that he well deserved that distinction.”

But in the course of his notice, the Editor animadverts on several
points in my Play, though this opinion would seem to have been a
somewhat isolated one, as in his notice of the concert given by the
brothers _Pixis_ which immediately followed mine, he says: “his place
has been assigned to him far below _Spohr_,” and then continues: “as
but a few days before people were so charmed by the Play of the latter,
and the opinion was expressed from that point of view, it may not be
considered altogether fair.”

Among the friends of Art in Prague, I then made the acquaintance of
a man with whom up to the time of his death I constantly remained on
terms of the closest friendship. This was Herr _Kleinwächter_, the
head of the commercial firm of _Ballabene_. At his house, every Sunday
forenoon, a small but select circle of Professionals and lovers of Art
met to play and listen to Quartett-music. Every foreign artiste sought
to be introduced there, and whether violinist or violoncellist took
an active part in them. I took a pleasure in playing there; for my
execution and my endeavours to give each composition in its appropriate
style were fully appreciated. One Sunday morning I was playing a
Solo-quartett of mine (D-Minor, op. 11. published by _Simrock_) when
the master of the house was suddenly called away; but returning after
some time, announced to the company, that during the playing of the
Quartett a son had been born to him! Among the congratulations of those
present the wish was also expressed that this harmonious greeting of
the new citizen of the world, would be of the most happy augery for
his future life, and above all things might endow him with a taste for
Music! With the latter, he was indeed gifted in a high degree. _Louis
Kleinwächter_, (in compliment to me he was christened after me) though
only as an amateur (his profession was the law) became a distinguished
musician, as his compositions many of which have been published,
sufficiently attest. Whether it was that he had been told he was born
during the performance of one of _Spohr’s_ compositions, and that, that
had awakened his predeliction for them, or whether it was his diligent
study of them, there never was a more enthusiastic admirer of my music
than he. Whenever in the Musical Reunions of Prague, a choice was
mooted of the Compositions which were to be played, he always strove
for those of _Spohr_, and never rested until he had carried his point.
For that reason, also, he soon acquired the general cognomen of “the
mad Spohrist.”

It is to be regretted that this young man of whom mention will
frequently be made in these pages, was snatched from his family by an
early death; he died several years before his father.

From Prague, the Artiste-couple proceeded to Munich, via Ratisbonne.
I no longer recollect whether I succeeded in getting up a Concert in
the latter town. I could find no notice of it. And respecting Munich,
in a summary notice of the Musical-Journal on the winter-season of
that year, it was curtly remarked “Herr _Spohr_, from Gotha, gave a
Concert and met here also with a warm approval.” Of our stay there I
have nevertheless a tolerable clear recollection. Before we gave our
concert in the City, we played at Court. When we came forward to play
our Concertante for Harp and Violin, there was no stool for _Dorette_.
King Maximilian who sat beside his Consort in the front row of the
audience, observed it, and immediately brought his own gilded arm-chair
surmounted with the Royal Crown, before an attendant could procure one.
In his own friendly good-tempered manner he insisted upon _Dorette_
seating herself in it, and only when I explained to him that the arms
of the chair would impede her playing, he consented to her taking the
seat brought by the servant.

When the Concert was over, he presented us to the Queen and her Ladies
of the Court, who discoursed with us in the most friendly manner. On
the following day the Royal Gifts were presented to us; to me a diamond
ring, to _Dorette_ a tiara of brilliants; both of great value.

At our Public Concert, we were supported by the members of the Royal
orchestra with the greatest good will. Herr _Winter_, the Director,
led. I was delighted with the precision and spirited execution of my
compositions, and thought it very natural that they should please,
played in such a manner. But it was a special satisfaction to me that
the Composer of the “Opferfest” (the Festival of the Sacrifice) assured
me also in his candid and straight forward way, of his full approval.
I went frequently to _Winter’s_ house, and was greatly amused with his
original character, which united the most singular contradictions. Of a
colossal build, and gifted with the strength of a giant, _Winter_ was
withal as timid as a hare. Readily excited to the most violent rage, he
nevertheless allowed himself to be led like a child. His housekeeper
had soon observed this, and tyrannised over him in a cruel manner. As
an example of this, he took great pleasure in dressing up the little
images for the Christmas tree, on the Eve of that Festival, and would
amuse himself in this way, by the hour. But ill befel him if the
housekeeper caught him at it. She would then immediately drive him away
from them, and call out: “Must you then be eternally at play?! Sit down
directly to the Pianoforte, and get your song ready!”

The junior members of the Royal orchestra, whom he took great pleasure
in having about him, and sometimes invited to dinner, teazed him in
return, unceasingly. They had soon discovered that he had a great fear
of Ghosts, and invented all manner of tales of apparitions and ghostly
narratives to frighten him. In the summer time he frequently went to
a public garden outside the town, but as he was timerous in the dark,
he always returned before night-fall. One day, the mischievous young
folks contrived by various means to delay his return longer than usual,
and it was already quite dark when he set out on his way home. As the
other guests still remained quietly seated, he found the road which lay
between two gloomy hedge-rows fearfully lonely. Seized with a sudden
terror, he unconsciously began to run. Scarcely had he commenced, than
he felt a heavy load upon his back, and he beleived that it could be
nothing also but a Hobgoblin that had sprung down upon him. Hearing
other footsteps behind as though running after him, he thought the
Devil and all his Imps were in full chase, and he now ran still faster.
Reeking with perspiration and panting for breath he at length reached
the city gates; when the goblin sprung down from his back, and said in
a voice that he knew: “Thank you Herr Kapellmeister, for carrying me,
for I was very tired!” This speech was followed by a general titter,
and he whom they had so befooled, burst into an uncontrolable rage.

From Munich, we continued our journey to Stuttgard, where we took
letters of introduction to the Court. I presented these to the
Court-Chamberlain, and on the following day received from him the
assurance that we should be permitted to play at Court. But in the
meantime I had been informed that here also cards were played during
the Concerts at Court, and that little attention was paid to the
Music. At Brunswick I had been already sufficiently disgusted with
such a degradation of the Art, that I took the liberty to declare
to the Court-Chamberlain, that I and my wife could alone appear,
if the King would be graciously pleased to cease card-playing
during our performance. Quite horrified at so bold a request, the
Court-Chamberlain made one step backward, and exclaimed: “What? You
would prescribe conditions to my gracious Master? Never should I dare
make such a proposal to him!” “Then must I renounce the honour of
playing at Court”, was my simple reply. And on this, I took my leave.

How the Court-Chamberlain betook himself to lay so unheard of a
proposition before his Sovereign, and how the latter prevailed upon
himself to yield to it, I never learned. But the result was, that the
Court-Chamberlain sent to inform me: “His Majesty would be graciously
pleased to grant my wish; but on the condition, that the musical pieces
which I and my wife would play, should follow in quick succession, so
that His Majesty would not be too frequently inconvenienced.”

And so it occurred. After the Court had taken their seats at the
card-table, the Concert began with an Overture, which was followed by
an aria. During this, the lacqueys moved to and fro with much noise,
to offer refreshments, and the card-players called out: “I play, I
pass” so loud, that one could hear nothing connectedly of the music
and the singing. The Court-Chamberlain now came to inform me that I
should hold myself ready. Upon this, he announced to the King, that the
strangers would begin their performances. Presently, His Majesty rose
from his chair, and with him all the company. The servants placed two
rows of stools in front of the orchestra, upon which the Court seated
themselves. Our play was listened to in the greatest silence, and with
interest; but no one dared utter a syllable of approval, as the King
had not given the lead. The interest he took in the performances was
shewn only at the close of each by a gracious nod of the head, and
scarcely were they over, than all hastened back to the card-tables, and
the former noise began anew.

During the remainder of the Concert, I had leisure to look about me.
My attention was particularly directed to the King’s card-table, in
which in order to accommodate itself better to his Majesty’s obesity,
a semi-circular place had been cut out, into which the King’s belly
fitted closely. The great size of the latter, and the little extent of
the Kingdom, gave rise as is well known to the smart caricature in
which the King in his Coronation-robes, with the map of his Kingdom
fastened to the button of his knee breeches, is represented as uttering
the words: “I cannot see over all my States!”

As soon as the King had finished his game, and moved back his stool,
the Concert was broken off in the middle of an aria by Madame _Graff_,
so that the last notes of a cadence actually stuck in her throat.
The musicians accustomed to this vandalism, packed their instruments
quietly in their cases; but I was deeply exasperated at such an insult
to the Art.

At that time, Würtemberg groaned under a despotism such as indeed
the rest of Germany had never known. To cite only a few examples of
this, it suffices to say: that rain or snow, every one who entered
the Palace-Court at Stuttgard was compelled to walk hat in hand from
the irongates to the portal of the palace, because his Majesty’s
apartments were on that side. Every civilian was furthermore obliged
by the most imperative order to take off his hat before the sentry,
who was not required to salute him in return. In the theatre, it was
strictly forbidden by notices to that effect, to applaud with the
hands before the King had commenced. But his Majesty on account of the
extreme cold of the winter sat with his hands buried in a large muff,
and only took them out when his Royalty was graciously pleased to feel
the want of a pinch of snuff. When that was done, it little mattered
what was going on upon the stage, he then clapped his hands. Upon this
the Chamberlain who stood behind the King, immediately joined in, and
thereby gave notice to the loyal people, that they might also give vent
to their approbation. In this manner the most interesting scenes and
the best pieces of music of the opera were almost always disturbed, and
interrupted by a horrid noise.

As the citizens of Stuttgard had long learned to accommodate themselves
to the Royal humours, they were not a little astonished at what I had
stipulated for before my appearance at the Court-concert, and had
actually granted to me. This made me the object of public attention,
and the result was, that my concert in the town was attended by an
unusually numerous auditory. The Royal orchestra gave me their support
in the most friendly manner, and the Director _Danzi_ endeavoured to
facilitate the whole arrangements for me in every possible way.

_Danzi_ was a most amiable artiste, and I felt the more inclined
towards him, from finding he had the same admiration for _Mozart_,
that I was so deeply impressed with. _Mozart_, and his works, were
the inexhaustible subjects of our conversation, and I still possess
a most cherished memorial of that time, a four-handed arrangement of
_Mozart’s_ Symphony in G-Minor, composed by _Danzi_, and in his own
handwriting.

In Stuttgard I also first made the acquaintance of the since so greatly
famed _Carl Maria von Weber_, with whom up to the time of his death I
was always on the most friendly terms. _Weber_ was then Secretary to
one of the Princes of Würtemberg and cultivated the Art as an amateur
only. This however, did not hinder him from composing with great
assiduity, and I still well remember hearing at his house, as a sample
of _Weber’s_ works some “Numbers” from the Opera “_Der Beherrscher der
Geister_.” (The Ruler of the Spirits.) But these, from being always
accustomed to take _Mozart_ as the type and rule by which to measure
all dramatic works, appeared to me so unimportant and amateur-like,
that I had not the most distant idea _Weber_ would ever succeed in
attracting notice with any opera.

Of the Concerts which we gave besides, in Heidelberg and Frankfort on
the Mayne, before our return home, I can now speak but imperfectly
from memory--I therefore give a few extracts from the notices of the
Musical-Journal.

First of all speaking of Heidelberg, it says: “_Eisenmenger’s_ violin
would still have been unforgotten, had not the Heidelbergers had
the pleasure in the last Concert to hear _Louis Spohr_ play in his
_Rode_-like style of firm, sustained and skillful bow-stroke. His
wife played the harp, in a way one seldom hears in Germany--with a
tenderness, lightness and grace, with a confidence, strength, and
expression, that are quite captivating.”

To me it seems very strange, that even at this time my play was still
designated as a _Rode_-like style, for at that period at least I
thought to have wholly laid aside his manner. Perhaps it arose merely,
from the circumstance, that, on account of the easier accompaniment, I
had selected a Concerto of _Rode’s_ for execution.

Respecting the Concert in Frankfort on the 28. March, the remarks were
also very eulogistic. The Frankfort Journal spoke of the “wellmerited,
and distinguished applause” that we met with, and reverted to a “in
many respects similar Pair, who five and twenty or thirty years before
made much sensation in Mannheim, and afterwards in London--to _Wilhelm
Kramer_, the great Violinist and his wife, the splendid Harpiste”.

On my return to Gotha I was met at some miles from the town by my
pupils, some of whom had remained there during my absence, and others
but shortly returned, and escorted by them as in triumph to my
tastefully decorated dwelling. We there found _Dorette’s_ parents and
relatives all assembled to welcome us, and also our dear child, who
under her grandmother’s excellent care was in blooming health. As on
our tour we had not only earned a rich harvest of applause, but had
saved a sum of money which for our circumstances was considerable, we
now felt on our return to our domestic hearth right happy and free from
care.

As soon as I had resumed the Direction of the Court-concerts, I felt
impelled to set to work at new compositions. I first wrote a Potpourri
for the violin with orchestral accompaniment (Op. 23, published by
_André_ of Offenbach) which had already suggested itself to me during
the journey, and for the most part in the carriage. I was very desirous
to see on paper what I there thought a very artistic combination of two
Themes in one and the same; but still more desirous to hear it executed
by an orchestra. This Potpourri begins with a lively, and for the
solo, brilliant _Allegro_ in G-Major, connected with and passing into
the Theme from the “_Entführung_”: “_Wer ein Liebchen hat gefunden_” in
G-Minor. After this has been varied five times alternately in the Minor
and Major, it is taken up in sixth Variation by the wind-instruments,
and for a time carried out in free-fugued Entries. On the return into
the principal key, the first horn takes up the melody of the song
in the Major and carries it out completely to the end. This is then
succeeded anew in a very startling manner by the introductory _Allegro_
of the primo, blending with it as it were in the style of a Fantasia,
though it previously appeared as an independant piece of Music.

With the working of this combination at the Rehearsal, I was very
satisfied; but when the Potpourri was executed at the Court-Concert,
I was doomed to see my ingenious combination of the two themes was
noticed by a few musicians only, and was totally lost upon the rest of
the hearers.

The next that I wrote, was the Concertante for two Violins (Op. 48,
published by _Peters_ in Leipsic). I was prompted to this chiefly by
the artistic genius of one of my pupils one Herr _Hildebrandt_ of
Rathenow, with whom I was very fond of playing. This young man had made
so much progress under my guidance in twelve months, that he promised
to become one of the first violinists of Germany. Unfortunately, at a
later period, by what mischance I now no longer remember, a wound which
he received in his left hand became a bar to the full development of
his talent, so that he did not become so known in the Musical world,
as was previously to have been expected. This pupil had acquired to
such a degree his instructor’s method of execution in all its shadings,
that he might have been considered a true copy of him. Our play blended
therefore so intimately, that, without looking at us, no one could tell
by the ear which of us played the upper or which the lower key. In this
manner we had practised the new Concertante, before we executed it at
the Court-concert. We achieved, also, such success with it, that the
Dutchess requested its repetition in the next concert, and afterwards,
insisted, also, as long as _Hildebrandt_ remained in Gotha to have it
put in the programme when strangers were on visit at Court.

As my pupils at that time were of much the same age as myself, and were
young people of good breeding and inspired with a love of their Art; I
liked to have them about me, and took great pleasure in permitting them
to accompany me in my walks and little excursions in the neighbourhood.
I used then to join in all their amusements, played at ball and other
games with them, and taught them to swim. Yes, perhaps I was even
somewhat more _en camerade_ with them than beseemed the dignity of the
Instructor with his pupils. But my authority suffered no diminution on
that account; for I knew not only how to maintain a strict discipline
during the hours of tuition, but also at other times, a becoming
behaviour.

In this manner, I had already made a longer excursion in the spring,
to Liebenstein, and up the Inselsberg, and returned from that journey
so pleased, that I longed once more to make a similar excursion to the
Harz, which I so loved. Quite unexpectedly, a temporary absence of the
Dutchess, through which some Court-concerts were suspended, furnished
the necessary leave of absence. I therefore, immediately, proposed to
my pupils, a pedestrian journey to the Harz, which they welcomed with
the most joyful assent. As our absence would of a necessity extend to
a fortnight, the lessons could not be suspended for so long a time
without great prejudice to the pupils, and I therefore determined to
continue them on the journey. For this purpose I took two violins
with me, with which the orchestra-servant _Schramm_, yet a young man,
and greatly attached to me was loaded, while we carried all the other
necessaries distributed in two knapsacks, each in his turn. Before our
caravan could set out, I had yet to console my wife, who could not make
up her mind to so long a separation, the first since our marriage,
and who shed, indeed, a torrent of tears. Not until I had promised
to write to her every other day, could she be somewhat pacified, and
it was long before she let me from her arms. To me, also, this first
separation was no less extremely painful!

How far we went the first day and where we stopped the following
night, I no longer remember; but I still know well, that at every
rest after dinner, I gave two of my pupils regular instruction, and
required of them a punctual alternate practise of the lesson in the
evening, as soon as we reached our quarters for the night. In this way,
on the third or fourth day, (the heat was intense,) we arrived about
a league from Nordhausen, and very tired sat down to rest ourselves
under the shade of an oak by the side of a large pond, when by an
unlucky accident one of our knapsacks rolled down the steep bank and
fell into the water--and so far from the bank, also, that we could not
reach it with our walking sticks. As the water was deep, I was soon
obliged as the only practised swimmer of the party, to make up my mind
to jump in and fetch it out. But before I could get my clothes off,
the knapsack had taken in so much water, that it began to sink. I was
therefore obliged to dive at the place where it had disappeared until
I succeeded in recovering it. When I brought it to the bank, and it
was opened, I found its contents so saturated with water, that we were
obliged to spread them on the grass in the sun to dry them. As it was
to be anticipated this would be an operation of several hours, and
noon was drawing near with its attendant hunger, I resolved to take
our customary dinner-rest in this place, and to send to Nordhausen to
procure the necessary provisions. The purchase of these fell by lot
to one of the pupils, and _Schramm_ accompanied him to carry them.
Meanwhile, I gave my two lessons unter the great oak, and those pupils
who were not engaged therein, bathed themselves at a more shallow
part of the pond. After the lapse of two hours, our foragers returned
heavily laden, and under the shadow of the dear oak, which served us
with equal hospitality as a Dining- or Concert-room, a capital-dinner
was soon spread and despatched in the merriest humour, and with the
best appetite. Then resounded in joyous harmony the tones of four
male-voices, in choice four-part glees of which we carried with us a
good collection, and had also well-practised them. After this, our
properties which were once more dry, were packed up, and our troop set
itself again in motion.

After this merry fashion we visited every remarkable spot of the lower
Harz, and then climbed the “Brocken.” When we got to the top, that
which occurs to nine tenths of all travellers, befel us also; we found
it envelloped in mist, and waited in vain until noon, in the hope that
it would clear off and enable us to enjoy the view from the summit.
We endeavoured to dispel as much of our disappointment as we could by
singing, playing and looking through the pages of the many tomed “Book
of the Brocken”; indeed, one of the party put our Jeremiade on this
misfortune into really decent rhyme, which I immediately converted into
a Canon for three voices. This was diligently practised, sung both
within the “Brockenhause” and outside in the mist, and then written
together with our names in the Brocken-Book, in the hope that at length
the weather would clear up.[8] But in vain! We were obliged to make up
our minds to continue our journey.

[8] This Canon was found among _Spohr’s_ manuscripts, and a fac-simile
is appended to this volume.

We now took the direction of Clausthal, and when we reached the plain,
we had the mortification to see the summit of the Brocken, after we had
left it about one hour, lit up with the brightest sunshine!--Arrived
at Clausthal; our first care was to get rid of the unseemly growth of
beard that had accrued to all during our journey, so as to reassume a
somewhat more civilized appearance. We sent, therefore, for a barber,
and submitted ourselves one after the other to his razor. A somewhat
comical incident arose out of this operation. We had all of us more
or less, a sore place under the chin from holding the violin, and I
who first sat down, directed the barber’s attention to this, and
begged him to go over it very lightly with his razor. As the barber
found a similar sore place under the chin of each that followed, his
countenance assumed more and more the grotesque expression exhibited
in the disposition to whistle and smile at one and the same time,
murmuring every now and then something, inwardly. Upon being asked the
reason, he replied with a grave look: “Gentlemen, I see very clearly
that you all belong to a secret Society, and you all carry the sign.
You are Freemasons, probably, and I am right glad that I know at last
how that is to be discovered!” As upon this we all broke out into a
loud peal of laughter, he was at first very much disconcerted, but,
nevertheless, not to be shaken in his belief.

After we had descended into a mine, and visited the smelting-huts
and stamping-works, we continued our journey to Seesen, by way of
Wildemann. There, we were joyfully welcomed by my parents and brothers
and sister as well as by the musical friends of the little town. We had
music now from morning to night, and even got up a Public concert, in
which all exhibited our skill to the utmost in playing and singing. The
proceeds of the concert, we presented to the School for the Poor, for
the purchase of new schoolbooks.

Highly pleased with our journey we returned through Göttingen and
Mühlhausen to Gotha. I yet think with emotion on the intense pleasure,
with which my dear little wife welcomed me home, and never did I feel
more acutely, the happiness of being loved!

At this period, a young Poet, a Candidate in Theology, who was awaiting
his appointment in Gotha, offered to me an Opera he had written, to set
to music, and I seized this opportunity with pleasure, to try my hand,
and as I hoped with more success, in dramatic composition. The Name
of the Opera was “Alruna, _die Eulenkönigin_” (the Owlet-Queen), it
was founded on a popular tradition, and in matter had much resemblance
to the “_Donauweibchen_”, (the Danube Water-Nymph) which at that time
excited general admiration. I immediately commenced my work with great
zeal, and finished the three Acts of the Opera before the end of the
year. As some of the “Numbers” which I played at the Court-concerts
found great favour, I was encouraged by this to offer my work for
representation at the Court-Theatre in Weimar. I went thither in person
to obtain a favourable reception of it from Herr _von Goethe_, the
Intendant of the Theatre, and Frau _von Heigendorf_, the prima Donna
and the mistress of the Duke. To the former I handed the Libretto, to
the latter the Music of the Opera. As she found some brilliant parts
for herself and her favorite _Stromeyer_, she promised to interest
herself in getting the Opera accepted, and as I knew that this depended
solely upon her, I returned to Gotha with the most sanguine hopes. Yet
it required many reminiscences from me, and month after month passed
away, until at length the study of the Opera was commenced. As this had
now gone so far that a grand orchestral rehearsal could be effected,
Frau _von Heigendorf_ invited me to direct it. I therefore proceeded to
Weimar a second time, and now in company with the author.

As I had written all manner of new things after I had completed the
Opera, it had somewhat faded from my recollection, and I therefore
thought I should be the better able to judge of it without partiality.
Accordingly I was greatly preoccupied with the impression that it
would make upon me.--The Rehearsal took place in a Saloon at the house
of Frau _von Heigendorf_. Among the assembled Auditory, besides the
Intendant Herr _von Goethe_, and the Musical Amateurs of the Town,
_Wieland_ was also present. The Singers had well studied their parts;
and as the orchestra had already had one rehearsal, the Opera was right
well executed under my direction. It gave general satisfaction, and
the Composer was overwhelmed with congratulations. Herr _von Goethe_,
also spoke in praise of it. The Author did not come off so well.
_Goethe_ found all manner of defects in the Libretto, and especially
required that the dialogue which was written in Iambics should first
be put into simple prose, and considerably curtailed before the Opera
was performed. This requisition was particularly painful to the
Author, as he prided himself not a little on his metrical dialogue. He
nevertheless declared to me his readiness to undertake the required
alteration, but on account of other pressing work, he could not set
about it immediately. This was not displeasing to me, for with the
exception of a few of the “Numbers”, my Music at the rehearsal in
Weimar had not satisfied me, greatly as it had pleased there, and I
was again tortured with the thought, that I had no talent for Dramatic
music. For this reason the Opera became more and more indifferent to
me, and I was glad to see that its representation would be delayed. At
length the thought of seeing it represented and thus made public was
so distasteful to me, that I withdrew the parts and score. Hence with
the exception of the Overture which was published as Op. 21 by _André_
in Offenbach, nothing else of it was engraved. But on the other hand,
I was unjust towards this work; for it shews, compared with the first
Opera, an unmistakably great progress in dramatic style.

In the year 1808, took place the celebrated Congress of Sovereigns,
on which occasion, _Napoleon_ entertained his friend the Emperor
_Alexander_, and the Kings and Princes of Germany his Allies. The
lovers of sights and the curious of the whole country round, poured in
to behold the magnificence which was there displayed. In the company of
some of my pupils I also made a pedestrian excursion to Erfurt, less
to see the Great Ones of the earth, than to see and admire the great
ones of the French Stage, _Talma_, and _Mars_. The Emperor had sent to
Paris for his tragic performers, and every evening one of the classic
works of _Corneille_ or _Racine_ was played. I and my companions had
hoped to have been permitted to see one such representation, but
unfortunately, I was informed that they took place for the Sovereigns
and their suite only, and that every body else was excluded from them.
I now hoped, with the assistance of the musicians, to obtain places in
the orchestra; but in this I also failed, for they had been strictly
forbidden to take any person in with them. At length it occurred to me,
that I and my three pupils, by taking the places of the same number
of musicians who played between the acts, might then be enabled to
remain during the performance. As we were willing to pay handsomely,
and the musicians knew that their substitutes would fill their places
in a satisfactory manner, they gave their consent. But, now a new
difficulty presented itself: three of us only could be introduced for
the violins and the bass-viol; and as neither of us played any other
orchestral-instrument but those, one of us of a necessity must remain
excluded. The thought then struck me, to try whether I could learn
sufficient of the horn, by the evening, so as to be able to undertake
the part of the second hornist. I immediately prevailed upon him whose
place I wished to take, to yield his horn to me; and began my studies.
At first I produced the most terrific tones from it; but after about an
hour, I succeeded in bringing out the natural notes of the instrument.
After dinner, while my pupils went to walk, I recommenced my studies in
the house of the “Stadt-Musicus”[9] and although my lips pained me very
much, yet I did not rest until I could play my horn-part, perfectly, in
the certainly, very easy overture and “between acts” which were to be
played in the evening.

[9] Musician to the Corporation.

Thus prepared, I and my pupils joined the other Musicians, and as
each carried his instrument under his arm, we reached our places
without opposition. We found the saloon in which the theatre had been
erected, already brilliantly lit up, and filled with the numerous
suite of the Sovereigns. The seats for Napoleon and his guests were
close behind the orchestra. Shortly after the most able of my pupils
to whom I had assigned the direction of the music, and under whose
leadership I placed myself as a new fledged hornist, had tuned up
the orchestra; the high personages made their appearance, and the
overture began. The orchestra with their faces turned towards the
stage, stood in a long row, and each was strictly forbidden to turn
round and look with curiosity at the Sovereigns. As I had received
notice of this beforehand, I had provided myself secretly with a small
looking-glass, by the help of which as soon as the music was ended, I
was enabled to obtain in succession a good view of those who directed
the destinies of Europe. Nevertheless, I was soon so entirely engrossed
with the magnificent acting of the tragic artistes, that I abandoned
my looking-glass to my pupils, and directed my whole attention to the
stage.--But at every succeeding “entre-acte”, the pain of my lips
increased, and at the close of the performance they had become so much
swollen and so blistered, that in the evening, I could scarcely eat
any supper. Even the next day, on my return to Gotha, they had a very
negro-like appearance, and my young wife was not a little alarmed when
she saw me; but she was yet more nettled, when in a jesting tone I
said: that it was from kissing to such excess the pretty Erfurt-women!
When, however, I had related to her the history of my studies on the
horn, she laughed heartily at my expense.

About that time, though I do not exactly remember whether it was on
that journey to Erfurt, or upon a previous one, the Emperor Napoleon
slept also once in the palace at Gotha, and on that account a
Court-concert had been commanded the previous evening. I and my wife
had the honour to play before the allpowerful man, and he addressed
a few words to us. On the following evening also, we received our
share of the “Gold Napoleons” which he had left as a present to the
Court-orchestra.

The Duke of Gotha was at that time high in his favour, and therefrom
great advantages were expected for the Duchy. But he must have lost
it afterwards by some neglect; for when the Emperor passed through on
a subsequent journey, a scene occurred that filled the inhabitants of
Gotha with bitter rage against the tyrant. The Emperor was expected
about 11 o’clock. A breakfast had therefore been prepared in the
palace at Friedrichsthal, the summer-residence of the Court, and the
whole Court-circle was assembled in state-costume. The posthorses
ready harnessed were waiting in the palace-square, to take the Emperor
immediately after breakfast upon his farther journey.--At length, the
first gun of the salute resounded above on the Friedenstein, from
whence every time the Emperor passed through, 101 guns were fired.
Shortly afterwards, his carriage drove up. The Duke, surrounded by
his Court, already stood with uncovered head at the iron gates,
approached the carriage with humble demeanour, and begged that his
Imperial Majesty would deign to take breakfast. An abrupt _non!_ and
the order to his Mamelucks to put to the horses, was the reply. Without
condescending any further word or look to the Duke, he leaned back in
the carriage and left the Prince standing at the closed door in the
most painful perplexity. The Duke turned pale with inward rage to see
himself so insulted in the presence of his Court and People, and yet,
had not the courage to return immediately to the palace. Thus passed in
a dead silence, five or six fearfully long minutes, until the horses
were put to. At the first forward movement they made, the Emperor’s
head was once more visible, and with a cold nod, he drove off. The
Duke, as though annihilated, returned to the palace, and the citizens
loudly expressed their rage, that the overbearing Corsican should have
so insulted their Prince.

On the 6. November, 1808, my wife presented me with a second daughter,
who was named _Ida_, after my wife’s step-sister Madame _Hildt_, who
held her over the font. Her confinement passed over as lightly and
happily as the former one, and during the first days the health of the
invalid was excellent. This, however, induced her to leave her bed too
soon, whereby she caught cold, and the sad consequences were, that she
was seized with a violent nervous fever. For several days her life was
in imminent danger. I left her neither by day nor night, for she would
receive attention from no one but me. What I suffered at the side of
her sick-bed is indiscribable! Alarmed by her fits of delirium, by the
grave countenance of the physician, who shunned my interrogatories,
and tortured with self-reproaches for not having taken more care of
her, I had not a moment’s rest during _Dorette’s_ illness. At length
the more cheerful expression of the physician’s face betokened that the
danger was passed, and I, who during the last days, first became really
sensible of all I possessed in my wife, and of the intense love I bore
her, now felt unspeakably happy. Her recovery progressed rapidly. Yet
there was great weakness still remaining, from which _Dorette_ was not
wholly releived until the spring, when by the recommendation of the
Doctor I hired a house in the country with garden attached, and by that
means procured her the continual enjoyment of fresh air. Strengthened
by this, she then gradually began her musical studies, which for almost
six months she had been obliged to discontinue. In the Catalogue of
the whole of my works, which I began shortly after my appointment in
Gotha and continued up to the present time, besides those Compositions
already named, dating from 1808, the following are specified: Two
Duetts for violin (op. 9) and one for violin and viola (op. 13),
Variations for the harp and two Quartetts for stringed instruments.
In Quartetts, certainly the most difficult of all compositions, I had
already made a trial the year before. But with them I succeeded no
better than with Song-compositions. Shortly after their completion they
no longer pleased me; and for that reason I should not have published
them had not my Leipsic publisher, Herr _Kühnel_, at whose house I
played them in the autumn of 1807, retained them almost by force, and
shortly afterwards published them (as op. 4). The new Quartett (op. 15)
also brought out by _Kühnel_, pleased me it is true somewhat longer;
but at a later period when I had learned to produce a better style of
Quartett-composition I regretted also that I had published them. The
two first Quartetts I dedicated to the Duke of Gotha, but only at his
personal request; for though I felt a pleasure in dedicating my works
to _Artistes_ and amateurs of music, as a token of my respect and
friendship, yet my artistic pride would never permit me to dedicate
them to Princes for profit’s sake, though even at their express desire.

At the time when the Duke invited me to dedicate my Compositions to
him, he frequently used to send for me to converse with him upon his
tastes in Art. As is well known, in spite of his peculiarities, he was
a man of mind, and cultivated taste, which his published Poems and
his Correspondance with _Jean Paul_ sufficiently prove. But with the
affairs of Government he did not in the least trouble himself, and
left them entirely to the Privy-Counsellor _von Frankenberg_, who,
therefore, was virtually the Regent of the land. Obliged _pro forma_
to be present at the sittings of the Privy-Council, he invariably got
tired of the subjects of discussion, and endeavoured to make them as
short as possible, himself frequently, saying, in derision of his own
want of interest “will not the Gentlemen of the Privy-Council soon be
pleased to command what I am to command?”

At that time, perhaps incited by my Compositions for the voice, he
was seized with the desire to have one of his longer poems, a kind
of Cantata, set to music. He did me the honour to consult me on the
subject. But as the Duke probably could not prevail on himself to
let me see his limited knowledge of music, he applied to his old
music-master, the Concert-Director _Reinhard_, to carry it out. From
him at a later period, in an unguarded and confiding moment, I heard
how the composition of the Cantata was brought about. The Duke, read to
his master seated at the piano, a passage of the text, and explained to
him his ideas respecting the style in which it should be composed. When
the Duke had once heard or read the characteristics of the different
tones, _Reinhard_ was then obliged to strike several of them in sequent
accords, so that he might find the right one for his text. If this
was cheerful, a Major-Key was chosen, if it was mournful, a Minor-Key
was selected. It happened one day that the Duke took the Major too
sprightly, and the Minor was too mournful, upon this he required poor
_Reinhard_ to sound the Key in _half_ Minor. When they had agreed upon
this point, the melody suited to the text was next sought for. The Duke
then whistled every melody that came into his head, and left his master
to choose the most suitable to the character of the words. When in this
manner a few lines of the poem had been disposed of, they passed on
to the next. As _Reinhard_ could not compose, or at least not arrange
the instrumentation, the plan of the Cantata thus sketched out in the
Duke’s leisure-hours was handed over to the “Kammer-Musicus” _Backofen_
to complete with score. The latter, as may readily be imagined,
could make but little use of the materials given to him, and was
therefore obliged to recompose as it were the Cantata anew. Possessing
considerable talent for composition, he accordingly put out of hand
a piece of music such as could well be listened to. The work thus
completed, was now written out, carefully practised under my direction,
and then produced at a Court-Concert. The Duke, though he may well have
been somewhat astonished that his music sounded so well, received the
congratulations and praises of the Court with a satisfied mien, praised
me for having so well entered into his ideas in practising it with the
orchestra, and privately sent his two fellow-workmen their gratuity. In
this manner all parties were satisfied.

In the winter of 1808-9, I arranged some Subscription-Concerts in
the town for the benefit of the Court-Orchestra. But as these could
present nothing better than was heard at the Court-Concerts, and those
were much frequented by the amateurs of music of the town, for whom a
large space behind the orchestra in the Concert-saloon was set apart,
these Subscription concerts met with but little support. The product
therefore was so small after the deduction of the expenses, that it was
not considered worth while repeating the undertaking.

At one of these Concerts, Herr _Hermstedt_, Director of the
“Harmonic-music” to Prince Sondershausen, appeared as Clarinet player,
and attracted much attention by his admirable performance. He had
come to Gotha to request me to write a Clarinet-concerto for him, for
which the Prince upon the condition that _Hermstedt_ should be put
in possession of the manuscript, offered to pay a handsome gratuity.
To this proposal I gladly assented, as from the immense execution,
together with the brilliancy of tone, and purity of intonation
possessed by _Hermstedt_, I felt at full liberty to give the reins
to my fancy. After, that with _Hermstedt’s_ assistance I had made
myself somewhat acquainted with the technics of the instrument, I went
zealously to work, and completed it in a few weeks. Thus originated the
Concerto in E-minor, published a few years afterwards by _Kühnel_ as
op. 26, with which _Hermstedt_ achieved so much success in his artistic
tours, that it may be affirmed he is chiefly indebted to that for his
fame. I took it over to him myself to Sondershausen, at the end of
January, and initiated him in the way to execute it. On this occasion,
I appeared also as Violinist at a concert given by _Hermstedt_, and
played for the first time, my Concerto in G-Minor (op. 28) which I had
just finished a few days before, and, also, a new Pot-pourri (op. 24).

Secretary _Gerber_, the author of the “Musical Lexicon”, speaks of
these not only in that work, under the article “_Spohr_” but also in
a spirited notice in the Musical-Journal, a reprint of which is to be
found in number 26. of the eleventh volume. The third part of this
Concerto is a Spanish _Rondo_, the melodies of which are not mine but
genuine Spanish. I heard them from a Spanish soldier who was quartered
in my house, and who sang to the guitar. I noted down what pleased
me, and wove it into my _Rondo_. In order to give this a more Spanish
character, I copied the guitar-accompaniments as I had heard them from
the Spaniard, into the orchestral part. At the beginning of the same
winter, I had also a visit from _Reichardt_, Director of the orchestra
at Cassel, and then first made his personal acquaintance. _Reichardt_
told me he was going to Vienna by the command of his Court, to engage
singers for a German theatre that was about to be opened at Cassel.
This, proved afterwards to be false; for _Reichardt_ was at that very
time no longer in the Westphalian service. I had felt at first much
annoyed by a sharp criticism of _Reichardt’s_ upon my play, on my first
appearance at Berlin; but as I soon found that it contained many truths
and well founded strictures, and that it had prompted me to correct the
faults it pointed out in my execution, a sentiment of gratitude had
long taken the place of my former resentment. I therefore welcomed my
guest with great cordiality, and immediately arranged a musical party
at my house in his honour, at which I let him hear my two new and just
finished Violin-Quartetts.

As at that time I knew none of _Reichardt’s_ compositions beyond a
couple of successful songs, and looked upon the famous author of the
“Confidential letter from Paris” and the dreaded Critic, as a great
Composer, I set much value upon his opinion, and awaited it with a
feeling of acute expectancy. I therefore again felt somewhat chafed
when _Reichardt_ had various objections to make, and expressed them
_sans gène_. But it was perhaps more the self sufficient look of
infallibility with which he pronounced his judgement, that wounded
me; for some time after, I was again obliged to admit to myself, that
_Reichardt’s_ observations were in many respects just. There was _one_
remark, which I frequently called to mind in my subsequent studies. For
instance, in an _Adagio_, from the beginning to the end, I had carried
out a figure after the style of _Mozart_, now in one Key, and then in
the other, and in my delight at this scientific interweaving, had not
remarked that it at last became monotonous. But although _Reichardt_
praised the manner in which I had carried it through, he spoke
unsparingly against it, and added more over, maliciously, “You could
not rest until you had worried your motive to death!”

       *       *       *       *       *

In the spring of 1809, from the unusual expenses attendant upon my
wife’s confinement and subsequent illness, as well as those incurred by
the necessary removal to another house outside the town, I found myself
in such straightened circumstances, that I earnestly desired to see
realised the promise of an increase of salary that had been made to me
on my appointment. I therefore addressed a petition to the Duke, which
as he never troubled himself with administrative matters, was without
effect, and probably, was laid aside unread. I was therefore advised by
the Intendant, Baron _von Reibnitz_ to make a personal application to
the Privy-Counsellor _von Frankenberg_ and deliver to him my petition
for the desired increase of salary. I followed this advice, and in
the afternoon of a fine spring-day, walked over to the seat of the
Privy-Counsellor, distant about two miles from Gotha, on the road to
Erfurt. I found him in his garden, sitting under a large lime tree,
playing chess with his daughter. As I had been familiar with this game
from my early youth, played it often, and was passionately fond of it;
after a short salutation of the players, I immediately directed my
whole attention to the game as it stood. The Privy-Counsellor observing
this, had a chair placed for me close to the table, and quietly played
on. When I first arrived, the game looked very threatening for the
daughter, and it was not long before she was checkmated by her father.
I had taken particular notice of the position of the pieces, and in so
doing, a move had suggested itself to me by which the checkmate could
have been prevented. I represented this, and was immediately challenged
by the Privy-Counsellor, who thought himself sure of the victory, to
try it. The pieces were again replaced in the position they stood
when I arrived, and I now took the daughter’s game. After a few well
combined moves I succeeded in extricating my King from all danger,
and I then played against my opponent with such success, that he was
soon obliged to confess himself beaten. The Privy-Counsellor, though
somewhat nettled at his defeat, was nevertheless much struck with the
unexpected issue of the game. He held out his hand to me in a friendly
manner and said: “You are a capital Chess-player, and must often do me
the pleasure of playing with me.” This I did; and as I was world-wise
enough not to win too many games, I soon got in great favour with my
new patron; the result was, that a rescript, for an additional two
hundred thalers to my salary was soon made out.

       *       *       *       *       *

Towards the middle of the summer, from the constant enjoyment of fresh
air, and frequent walks which were extended by degrees to little
excursions into the neighbourhood; _Dorette_ had regained her former
strength and health, and again devoted herself with renewed assiduity
to the study of her instrument, in order to prepare herself thoroughly
for our projected second artistic-tour. As I also now became more and
more acquainted with the properties of the harp, with its effects, and
what my wife in particular was capable of performing with it, I at that
time wrote another grand Sonata for harp and violin (op. 115 published
by _Schuberth_ in Hamburg), and took great pains to introduce into it
the result of my experience. I was completely successful; the part for
the harp in this Sonata was easier to play, and at the same time more
brilliant than in the previous ones. _Dorette_ therefore, practised it
with special predeliction and soon played this new work with the same
precision as the others.

Thus once more prepared for an Artistic tour, we began to consider in
which direction it would be most advantageous to go. I had learned from
a traveller just returned from Russia, that my Musical fame and that
of my wife had already reached there, and that in the previous winter
a visit from us had been expected. As I had reason to hope, moreover,
that I should receive powerful letters of recommendation from the Court
of Weimar to the Imperial Court of St. Petersburgh, the journey to
Russia appeared to me to hold out the most advantages. But, _Dorette_
would not consent to so distant a journey from home, as she beleived
herself unable to bear so long a separation from her children. Yet,
when I represented to her, that if at any time it was our intention
to go to Russia, the present was the most favourable moment, in which
our children under the assiduous care of their grandmother, would
miss us less than at a later period, she at length, though with a
bleeding heart, consented to it. As I had foreseen that the Dutchess,
also, would not consent to so long an absence as would be required for
a journey to Russia, I kept secret for the present the real aim of
our journey, and named Breslau as its object, for which I asked and
obtained a three-month’s leave. From there, I intended to apply for an
extension of leave, to proceed farther.

We set out on our journey in October, 1809; played first at Weimar,
and received from the Grand-Dutchess the desired introduction to her
brother, the Emperor Alexander, as also to other Russian Magnates. We
then gave a Concert in Leipsic, of which the Musical-Journal contains
the following short notice: “Herr Concertmeister _Spohr_ and his wife
afforded us the pleasure to hear for a whole evening, several of his
newest Compositions, and himself on the Violin; as, also, his wife
on the Harp. Respecting this _true_ artiste and his talented wife
we have already spoken fully and decidedly, we shall here therefore
be succinct. Since we last heard them, both have made a surprising
progress, not alone in their mastery and ready command of all the
resources of their Art, but in their skilful application of them to
the best and most effective purposes:--And if the former Compositions
of this Master found both here and everywhere else the most unanimous
applause, his later Compositions which we have now heard, will much
less fail to do so.”

Of our Concerts in Dresden, and Bautzen, having sought in vain for
a notice of them, I am unable to say more than that they took place
on the 1. and 7. November, as I perceive from a memorandum of the
receipts on this journey, which has by chance been preserved. But of
the three Concerts we gave in Breslau, on the 18. November, and the
2. and 9. December there is a notice in the Musical-Journal, which
speaks in great praise of our Play, though it finds some fault with
the Compositions. It says: “The opinion of our musical friends of Herr
_Spohr_ as a Composer, agrees fully with that which they previously
pronounced respecting him. He is in truth a Musician of high merit. He
has nevertheless a peculiarity, and one which by degrees perhaps, will
lead him to uniformity in style; namely, his latest compositions, so
far as we are acquainted with them are _one and all of a melancholy
character_. Even the Pot-Pourri which he played at the close of the
Concert, partook somewhat of it.”

This remark upon the melancholy character of my Compositions, which is
here made for the first time, and so often repeated at a later period
in criticisms upon my works, as to become regularly stereotyped, has
always been a riddle for me; for, to me, my Compositions appear for
the most part quite as cheerful as those of any other Composer. Those
in particular which I then played in Breslau, with the exception of
two subjects, were all of so lively a character, that I am still
unable to understand the above remark. The two first Allegro’s alone
of the Concertante in H- and G-Minor are serious, the former perhaps
even somewhat mournful, but the other subjects are all of them,
lively. The same may be said from beginning to end of the Concertante
for two violins in A-Major, which I played with Herr _Luge_, and
more than that, the third Thesis is even saucily playful. Neither
does the Composition for the harp, nor the Overture to “Alruna”
bear any trace of melancholy; how then does the Reviewer come by
his remark?--Nevertheless, as something similar has been maintained
respecting my Compositions even up to the present time, so that people
who have not known me personally, have considered me a misanthrope, or
an hypochondriac, though I am happy to say I am always of a cheerful
tone of mind; there must be something in it, and I think it is,
that people have taken the prevailing dreaminess and sentimental
character of my Compositions, and my predeliction for the Minor Keys,
as outbursts of melancholy. If it is so, I am content to bear with it,
though at first it always annoyed me. Of the Overture to “Alruna”, the
same Breslauer critic says: “It is not free from reminiscences.” He
might have said right out, it is an exact imitation of the Overture
to the “Zauberflöte”; for that was the object I had in view. In
my admiration of _Mozart_, and the feeling of wonder with which I
regarded that Overture, an imitation of it seemed to me something very
natural and praiseworthy, and at the time when I sought to develope
my talent for Composition I had made many similar imitations of
_Mozart’s_ master pieces, and among others that of the aria full of
love-complaints in Alruna, imitated from the beautiful aria of Pamina:
“_Ach, ich fühl’s, es ist verschwunden._” Although shortly after
that time, I became sensible that a Composer should endeavour to be
original both in the form of his musical pieces, and in the development
of his musical ideas, yet I retained even up to a later period, a
predeliction for that imitation of the Overture to the “_Zauberflöte_”,
and still consider it as one of my best and most effective
Instrumental-compositions. Neither is it so slavish an imitation as
to contain nothing of my own invention; for instance, the striking
modulations in the introductory _Adagio_, and the second Fugue-theme
with which the second half of the _Allegro_ begins, and, which then is
so happily connected with the chief theme. The instrumentation, also,
though quite in the _Mozart_ style has nevertheless, some original
characteristics.

In Breslau we met an old acquaintance from Gotha, Baron _von Reibnitz_,
who hitherto had been Intendant of the Orchestra, but had resigned, and
retired to his estate in Silesia. He was then in town for the winter
months, and acquainted with all in Breslau who were fond of music, and
who played, he introduced me into the Musical Circles there, and was
of great assistance to me in making arrangements for my concerts. In
Breslau, from olden time one of the most musical Towns of Germany,
there was at that moment such a succession of Concerts, that one took
place almost every day in the week. As the Theatre, was open also every
evening, it was therefore very difficult to fix upon a day favourable
for an Extra-Concert, and almost more difficult to get together a good
and numerous orchestra. The kindness of _Schnabel_ the Leader of the
Cathedral-Choir enabled me nevertheless to overcome this difficulty,
for he not only procured for me a good Orchestra for each of my three
Concerts, but each time undertook to conduct it. The experienced
Director evinced a particular interest in my compositions, which he
soon transferred to the Composer, who returned it in the most hearty
manner. We became much attached to each other, and until _Schnabel’s_
early death remained on the most intimate terms of friendship.

Shortly after my arrival in Breslau, just as I was about to write to
Gotha for an extension of my leave to proceed to Russia, I received
through Baron _von Reibnitz_ a letter from the Court-Chamberlain Count
_Salisch_ in Gotha, to the following effect:

The Dutchess has with great regret received the information from
Weimar, that I had the intention of proceeding to Russia and did
not contemplate returning before the expiration of the year. As she
would be extremely unwilling to miss my services and those of my wife
at the Court-Concerts for so long a period, she therefore offered,
if I would give up the journey to Russia, and return speedily to
Gotha, to indemnify my wife, by procuring for her the appointment
of Solo-player at the Court-Concerts, and Teacher of Music to the
Princess.[10]--Scarcely had I communicated to my wife the contents of
this letter, than I saw how the hope of sooner rebeholding her children
brought tears of joy into her eyes. This moved me so deeply, that I
at once resolved to give up the journey. I therefore immediately put
myself in communication with Count _Salisch_, the new Intendant of the
Gotha Orchestra, and when he had definitively arranged the appointment
of my wife with a suitable salary to commence from the 1. January
1810, I agreed on my side to return to Gotha as soon as possible. We
therefore hastened our departure from Breslau to Berlin, and proceeded
through Liegnitz to Glogau, where we gave two Concerts on the 13. and
18. December, that had been previously arranged for by our musical
friends there, and which were very numerously attended.

[10] The Step-daughter of the Dutchess, afterwards married to the Duke
of Coburg, and mother of the present reigning Duke and of His R. H. the
late Prince Albert, Consort of the Queen of England.

Of the Concert at Glogau, I still remember a very ludicrous incident.
It took place in a building which was perhaps unique of its kind; for
on the basement were the Butcher’s shambles, on the first floor the
Concert-Saloon, and above that the Theatre of the town. As the Saloon
was very low and much overcrowded, it soon became insufferably hot.
The public, therefore, soon demanded that a trap-door in the ceiling
of the Saloon should be opened, which could be effected from the Pit
of the Theatre overhead. Now, however, the key of the Theatre was
nowhere to be found, the latter not having been used during the whole
of the winter; a long pole was therefore brought with which to push up
the door. At first, it would not move; but upon several men combining
their strength, it sprung suddenly, open, and at the same moment
let down upon the ladies sitting underneath such a shower of dust,
cherry-stones, apple-peel and the like, the accumulation of years, in
the pit, that not only were they completely covered, but the whole
orchestra and audience envelloped in such a cloud of dust, that at
first nobody could make out what it really was. When it had cleared off
again, the ladies endeavoured as well as they could to free their necks
and dresses from the dirt; the Musicians cleaned their instruments, and
the Concert was continued.

We found Berlin very full of strangers, and in a state of festive
excitement in expectation of the return of the Court, which ever since
the unfortunate battle of Jena had continued to reside in Königsberg.
The moment was favourable for giving Concerts, and even before the
arrival of the Court we had a numerous audience at our first. Of our
performances, the Editor of the Musical Journal says: “Yesterday,
the 4. January, the Director of Concerts in Gotha, Herr _Spohr_,
gave a Concert at the Theatre. Of his own Compositions he played a
Violin-Concerto in G-Minor, with a Spanish _Rondo_, a Pot-Pourri for
the Violin, and with his wife an accomplished and most expressive
player, a Sonata for pedal-Harp and Violin, also of his composition.
The Musical Journal has already frequently spoken in praise of this
talented Virtuoso, and recently also adverted to this composition. In
the present instance, also, both his Compositions and his Play were
highly commended. Particularly admired were the double chords, the
distances, and the shakes which Herr _Spohr_ executed with the greatest
skill, and by the impassioned expression of his play, especially in
the _Adagio_, he won every heart. We hope, to hear this estimable
Artiste-Couple again next week.”

On the 10. took place the Public Entry of the returning Court. It was
indeed an affecting scene, when the King seated by the side of his Wife
in an open carriage, drove slowly through the crowded streets, greeted
by the acclamations of thousands and by the waving of handkerchiefs
from every window. The Queen seemed deeply affected; for tear after
tear was seen to steal from her beautiful eyes. In the evening the City
was splendidly illuminated.

On the following day, we gave our second Concert. Early in the morning
we were beseiged with questions, whether the Court would be there.
We could as yet afford no information on the subject; but when about
noon, the Queen sent for tickets, the news of it spread through the
City like wildfire, and the auditory now came in such crowds that the
spacious Saloon could scarcely hold them. I played, as I see by the
notice in the Musical Journal, my third Concerto in C-Major; and with
my pupil _Hildebrandt_ who was on a visit to a relation in Berlin, my
Concertante in A-Major. The precision of our Duo-playing was the same
as usual, and here, as in Gotha gained for us the most lively applause.
But the critic, nevertheless does not appear to have been wholly of
the same opinion, since he expresses himself as follows: “Both Players
in the Concertante played not only together, but as _one_; and though
this merits on the one hand praise and even elicits astonishment,
yet on the other, it is somewhat uniform and monotonous; one missed
and regretfully, that charm which derives from the union of things
different in themselves, when through that very unison the difference
is still observable--instead of being a union of accord, it was one and
the same thing.”--This sounds very sensible, and yet has very little
sense in it! The two Solo-voices of this Concertante are written in
such a manner that their full effect is only to be attained by the
closest union of play. But to achieve that in the highest degree, is
possible only when both players are of the same school and have the
same style of execution. In fact, it is even necessary that their
Instruments should possess a like power, and as much as possible the
same qualities of tone. These were all combined in my Pupil and me;
hence the great effect of our Duo-playing. At a subsequent period in my
travels both in Germany and abroad, I have played that Concertante with
several of the most celebrated Violinists of the day, who as Virtuosi
stood higher than my pupil _Hildebrandt_, but with them I never could
attain the same effect as in my play with him, their school and mode of
execution being too dissimilar from mine.

It was at first my intention to return to Gotha direct from Berlin, in
order to keep my promise. But being informed by a musical friend in
Hamburgh that it was then a most favourable time of the year to give
Concerts, I wrote to Gotha requesting a few weeks more extension of
leave, to visit Hamburgh before my return. It was granted to me.

Hamburgh was at that time in the possession of the French, who had
laid a severe interdict upon all commerce with England. The then even
very rich merchants had therefore little to do, and the more leisure
to occupy themselves with Music and Concerts. As we were now preceeded
by a good artistic reputation, our first Concert, which we gave on the
8. February in the Apollo-Saloon was exceedingly well attended, and
brought in at the high admission-price of one Hamburgh Species, nearly
400 thalers. Our play in that Concert having made a great sensation,
the receipts increased at the second, on 21. February, to the large sum
of 1015 Thalers. Between those two Concerts we gave one also at Lubeck
on the 14. which we had been invited to do by the Musical amateurs of
that place, and, lastly, played also at Altona in the Museum, for a
moderate remuneration.

Highly gratified with the business we had done, we were now on the
point of leaving; when the Secretary to the French Governor called upon
us, and invited us in his name to give a third Concert, as he and his
Circle had missed the opportunity of hearing us. Under the apprehension
that a third would not be well attended, as I hesitated in my reply,
the gentleman added, that he was charged to take two hundred tickets
for the Governor and his friends. All hesitation on my part was now
dismissed, and on the 3. March we gave a third Concert, which again
brought a receipt of 510 thalers.

At that time, in Hamburgh, I first became personally acquaintained
with _Andreas Romberg_ and the Director of Music _Schwenke_. Both
those celebrated Artistes received me in the most friendly manner,
and rendered me every possible assistance in my concerts. _Romberg_
took care to provide a good Orchestra and directed it himself, and
_Schwenke_, the dreaded critic, undertook to announce the Concerts in
the newspapers. As his opinion was considered the highest authority,
the favourable manner in which he introduced the Artiste-Pair to the
notice of the Public, and afterwards pronounced upon our performance,
and upon my compositions, contributed not a little to the great success
we met with in Hamburgh. Both those Artistes lived amid an agreable
family circle and were much pleased when I and my wife looked in upon
them at tea-time. We then chatted on nothing but Music, and many were
the entertaining and instructive discussions that arose. _Romberg_
took great pleasure in reverting to his former residence in Paris,
and related many piquante incidents of the musical celebrities there.
_Schwenke_ amused us highly with his witty but biting criticism,
which scarcely spared any one. I might therefore well be proud that
my Compositions and Play were favourably spoken of by him. The
specialities touched upon by _Schwenke_ in these discussions were
very instructive for me, and I was therefore always delighted when
I met him at these Music-Parties. At this time, Quartetts were much
played in Hamburgh, and _Romberg_ had studied his Quartett admirably,
in which the execution of the Violincellist _Prell_ formed a most
attractive feature. It was therefore a pleasure to join them. _Romberg_
only played particular Quartetts, and though no great Virtuoso on
his instrument, executed them with skill and taste. But he only grew
right warm with the subject, when he could smoke his pipe at his ease
while Quartett-playing[11]. I played his favorites among the Quartetts
of _Mozart_ and _Beethoven_ and in this instance, also, excited much
sensation by my truthful rendering of the distinctive characters of
each. _Schwenke_ expressed himself thereon in the most eloquent terms.
At his desire, also, I was obliged to play two of my own Quartetts. I
did it unwillingly, as they no longer came up to the standard I now
prescribed to myself in that kind of composition. This I expressed
also without reserve; but they pleased nevertheless, and found grace
even from _Schwenke’s_ sharp criticism. _Romberg_ was of a different
opinion. He said to me with ingenuous openheartedness: “Your Quartetts
will not do yet; they are far behind your Orchestral pieces!” Much
as I agreed with him, yet it wounded me to hear another express that
opinion. When therefore, a few years afterwards I wrote some Quartetts
in Vienna, which seemed to me more worthy of my other Compositions,
I dedicated them to _Romberg_, in order to shew him that I could now
write Quartetts, “which would do.”

[11] _Bernhard Romberg_, also, constantly smoked while playing, and
I once heard him in his house at Gotha, executed his most difficult
Concerto in F-Minor, without taking the pipe from his mouth.

At one of the Musical Parties where I and my wife were present, a
comical misunderstanding arose which excited much laughter.

A rich Jew banker, who had heard my Quartett-playing much praised,
was desirous to give his Circle a treat, and so he invited me to his
house. Although, I knew that I should meet an auditory there but little
able to appreciate such high class Music, I could not well refuse,
as the wealthy man had taken forty tickets for each of my concerts.
I therefore accepted the invitation, but on the condition that the
best Artistes of Hamburgh should be invited to accompany me. This was
promised, and upon my entering the brillant company I not only found
_Romberg_ was present, but saw another distinguished violinist. Just
as the Quartett-playing was about to begin a fourth Violinist made
his appearance with his instrument, and we now saw with astonishment
that the master of the house had invited Violinists only. As a good
Accountant, he knew that to play a Quartett, _four_ persons were
necessary, but not that a Violist and Violincellist should be among
them. To extricate him from his perplexity, he was advised to send
quickly for Herr _Prell_ at the Theatre. But as the performances were
already over there, in spite of every endeavour, neither he nor any
other Violincellist could be found, and the company would have been
obliged to separate without any music, had not I and my wife played one
of our sonatas. If the musical knowledge of this Macenas of Art was
but little, his delicacy was still less. For when I took leave of him
that evening, he went to his writing table and taking out 40 Species,
said as he held them out to me: “I hear, you are going to give a third
Concert; send me forty more tickets; I have still, it is true, almost
all the others, but will take new ones, nevertheless.” Indignant at the
meanness of the rich Jew, I declined to take his money, and said: “The
former tickets, certainly, do not admit to the next Concert; but yours
shall. You will not therefore require any new ones.” And so I left him
standing embarrassed and ashamed before his company, and turned my back
upon him. On the day of the Concert, nevertheless, one of the servants
of the Hebrew Cresus came for the forty tickets.

Before I left Hamburgh, another offer was made to me that gave me much
pleasure. The celebrated Theatrical-Manager, Actor, and Play-writer
_Schröder_, who for nearly ten years had lived in retirement, and had
then let his Theatre to other speculators, was suddenly seized with the
desire to resume the management after the expiration of their lease.
The Play-going public of Hamburgh were rejoiced at this, for they
looked forward to see their Stage reassume the distinguished rank to
which it had formerly attained under _Schröder’s_ direction. The new
management was to commence with the year 1811, and open at first with
several new Plays and Operas. _Schröder_ himself had already written a
number of Plays and Comedies, for the occasion, and had procured the
librettos of four Operas, for which the music was now to be composed.
Three of these were already in the hands of _Winter_ of Munich, of
_Andreas Romberg_ and _Clasing_ the teacher of music in Hamburgh;
but the fourth “_Der Zweikampf mit der Geliebten_” of _Schink_ was
offered to me for composition. The negotiator in this matter, was a
former acquaintance of mine, _Schmidt_, the actor, previously on the
Magdeburgh but now on the Hamburgh stage.

Little satisfied as I had hitherto been with my Dramatic labours, the
desire to make another trial was by no means diminished. I therefore
accepted the offer without much preliminary enquiry about the
conditions, and without submitting the libretto destined for me to any
proof. The conditions were nevertheless very fair. A written agreement
was drawn up in which these were stipulated and signed by both parties.
I undertook to deliver my composition in the spring of 1811, and to
go to Hamburgh in the course of the summer, to direct the three first
representations of the opera.

With the prospect of a pleasant task before me, I now gladly returned
to the quiet of Gotha. But I was somewhat anxious lest the Dutchess
might have felt offense at our protracted absence, and I was the more
confirmed in that fear when upon paying our visit of return, to the
Dutchess, we were not received. We saw her therefore for the first time
again at the Court-Concert. As I well knew that the surest way to make
our peace with her, was to appear in this at once, I played one of my
Sonatas with my wife, and afterwards the Dutchess’s favorite Variations
of _Rode_ in G-Major. This had the desired effect; for at the end of
the Concert, the Dutchess advanced towards us, greeted us in the most
friendly manner, and would not permit us to finish our apologies. With
our mind at rest, we could now fully enjoy the happiness of being once
more united to our children.

As soon as we again felt at home, I longed to commence the composition
of the Opera I had brought with me. I now first saw, upon a nearer
examination of the libretto, that I had not drawn a very great prize.
The subject though in itself not uninteresting, had been worked out
in a manner that little suited me. I felt the necessity for some
alterations, and therefore applied first to Herr _Schröder_ for
permission to make them. This was readily conceded, and with the
assistance of a young Poet in Gotha, I altered what did not please me,
but saw later on its representation, that I ought also to have erased
many other things. I was then, however, still too little experienced in
Dramatic-writing.

Scarcely had I begun the Composition of the first acts of the Opera,
than I was called away from it by another task. In the spring,
_Bischoff_, the Leader of the choir at Frankenhausen, came to Gotha,
and offered me the Direction of a Musical Festival, which he purposed
to give in the church of his town, in the course of the summer. He
had already secured the assistance of the most celebrated Singers, as
well as of the most distinguished members of the Court-Orchestras
of the neighbouring Thuringian Capitals, and therefore had no doubt
of the most brilliant success. As the junior Director of these
Court-Orchestras, I felt not a little flattered at having the
Leadership offered to me, and accepted it with pleasure, although I had
never yet directed so large an Orchestra and Chorus company as would
be there assembled. I was now obliged to lay aside for some time the
work I had begun, for _Hermstedt_ urgently besought me to write another
new Clarinet-Concerto for him, to play at the Festival. Although sorry
to be disturbed in my studies, I allowed myself to be persuaded, and
finished it in sufficient time for _Hermstedt_ to practise it well
under my direction. This first Musical Festival at Frankenhausen, which
at that time attracted great attention in the Musical World, and gave
rise both on the Elbe, the Rhine, in North-Germany and Switzerland, to
the institution of similar Musical Festivals, found in Herr _Gerber_,
the author of the Musical-Lexicon, so eloquent a Commentator, that I
think I cannot do better than quote in part here his notice, in the 12.
Annual-Volume Nr. 47 of the Musical Journal:

“On the 20. and 21. of June, a Musical-Festival was celebrated in
Frankenhausen, a Town in the Schwarzburg-Rudolstadt Circle, four
leagues from Sondershausen; at which _Haydn’s_ “_Creation_” was
performed, and a Grand Concert; a Festival as remarkable for the
successful manner in which the numerous difficulties attending the
arrangement of the whole had been overcome, as for the high degree of
excellence exhibited in the presence of thousands, who had gathered to
hear it from a distance of twenty leagues round. When it is considered
that we are here speaking of a country town in Thuringia, in which
the Musical-_personel_ consisted alone of the “Stadt-Musicus” and
his assistants, with the vocalists of the Choir, the possibility of
accomplishing such an undertaking must excite the greatest surprise....

“The Precentor Herr _Bischoff_ of Frankenhausen, a young, active man,
and an enthusiast in his love for Music, who already in 1804, with the
assistance of his neighbours and a few members of the Ducal Orchestra
of Gotha, under the leadership of Concert-Director _Fischer_ of Erfurt,
and _Ernst_ of Gotha, performed “The Creation” in the principal
church of that place with about eighty Singers and Instrumentalists
to the great satisfaction of the hearers; felt thereby encouraged to
reproduce once more that great master-piece, according to the idea of
its great Composer with _two hundred_ Singers and Instrumentalists.
His purpose was long hindered by the passage to and fro of foreign
troops. At length in the present apparent calm in Germany, he undertook
to carry it out. With that view he had some time previously visited
Weimar, Rudolstadt, Gotha and Erfurt; to several towns he sent written
invitations, and as these were everywhere favourably received, early on
the 19. June, 101 Singers and 106 Instrumentalists, for the most part
of Thuringia, had assembled for the rehearsal, and among these, twenty
Artistes from Gotha with their celebrated Director, Concert-Master
_Spohr_.

“The Assistants were partly graduated Musicians, and Members of
Orchestra, partly Dilletanti and Virtuosi of first rank, each with
his own instrument, and most of them already familiar with the
“Creation”....

“Of this assemblage, the following Orchestra was formed: Director,
Concert-Master _Spohr_; Soprano-Solo, Madame _Scheidler_ from Gotha;
Tenor-Solo, “Kammer-Singer” _Methfessel_ from Rudolstadt; Bass-Solo,
“Kammer-Singer” _Strohmeyer_ of Weimar; Organ, Director _Fischer_ and
Professor _Scheibner_, both of Erfurt; Pianiste, Director _Krille_
from Stollberg; Director of the Chorus, Precentor _Bischoff_ of
Frankenhausen; Chorists, Soprani 28, Alti 20, Tenori 20, Bassi 30.”

Here follow the names of all the Musicians, and a description of the
arrangement of the Orchestra. The notice then continues:

“This appropriate and excellent arrangement, by which each had
sufficient room, and the Director constantly in view, contributed
without doubt not a little after one rehearsal only to the successful
execution of so great a work of art, new to many, and exceedingly
difficult, as was in particular produced on the second day:

“1) A grand new Overture for full Orchestra (with bassoons also) by
_Spohr_. 2) A grand Italian Scena for Bass by _Righini_, sung by
_Strohmeyer_. 3) A grand new Clarinet Concerto, written expressly
for this Festival by _Spohr_, and played by Director _Hermstedt_.
After which 4) Concert-Master _Fischer_ played upon the full Organ an
artistic Introduction to the last Chorus from _Haydn’s_ “Seasons”. This
was followed 5) by a Double-Concert for two Violins (also of _Spohr’s_
original-Composition) played by himself and _Matthäi_. 6) A grand
_Rondo_ from a Concerto in D-Major by _Bernard Romberg_, artistically
played by _Dotzauer_, and lastly, Beethoven’s C-Major Symphony....

“Herr _Spohr’s_ leading with a roll of paper, without the least noise,
and without the slightest contortion of countenance, might be called
a _graceful Leading_ if that word were sufficient to express the
precision and influence impressed by his movements upon the whole mass,
strange both to him and to itself. To this happy talent in Herr _Spohr_
I ascribe in great part the excellence and precision--the imposing
power, as well as the soft blending of this numerous Orchestra with the
voices of the Singers in the execution of “The Creation.”

“The full toned yet flexible voice of Madame _Scheidler_, so
well adapted to a large church, the expressive execution of the
Art-experienced Herr _Methfessel_, the magnificent bass-voice of Herr
_Strohmeyer_, indisputably the finest I ever heard, reaching from
Contra D to G _on the second line_, .... these three Solo-Singers,
in unison with so many distinguished Virtuosi leading every Voice,
where each sang or played voluntarily and with pleasure, justify me in
affirming that this execution of “The Creation” was the most powerful,
most expressive and in a word the most successful that I had ever
heard.....

“The Overture with which the Concert began on the following day,
belongs properly considered to the _Master-pieces in modulation_.
Almost with every new bar, one _Inganno_ succeeds the other, so that
it may be looked upon as a connected series of studies in modulation.
Probably, this restlessness, this vacillation, has reference to the
character of the “Alruna” for which drama this was written. Great,
however as the effect of this Overture may certainly be in a Theatre,
yet as Concert-Music it did not appear to make the impression that
might have been expected from its execution by so good and numerous
an orchestra. This result can be explained in no other way than, in
as much as continuously disappointed hopes depress the spirits and
make the mind uneasy, so a music which to the end disappoints the
expectations of the ear, never satisfies. A profusion of crooked and
sometimes rough passages, leading to no object, to no repose, and to
no further enjoyment, in which the Composer merely keeps the mind
of the hearer in suspense become at length wearisome. The music of
our forefathers 200 years ago, consisted of just such a profusion of
crooked passages, without resting place--of numberless modulations
and sustained terminals. But our worthy ancestors were as yet wanting
in the flowers wherewith to embellish and make a little resting place
interesting, that is: they were yet wanting in figures of Melody to
entertain their hearers agreably in one Tone. But how easy would this
have been to the admirable _Spohr_, who has so many of the beautiful
flowers! The so called contrast in great Musical works is by no means
to be despised; and least of all, the more it is grounded upon human
perception and feeling.

“Of the effect of Herr _Strohmeyer’s_ execution of the grand Scena of
_Righini_, it is here unnecessary to say any thing further, since his
splendid delivery has had full justice done to it above. _Righini’s_
charming Song, and admirable instrumentation are sufficiently known.
The Scena kindled the enthusiasm of the whole audience.

“_Spohr’s_ Clarinet-Concerto in E-Minor, played by _Hermstedt_, is
indisputably one of the _most perfect Artistic Works of the kind_. A
grand and brilliant handling of the concerted instruments, combined
with a most original accompaniment for the Orchestra, in which as it
were each instrument even the kettle-drum, is _obligato_, and which
for that reason requires a more than usually practised and attentive
Orchestra, entitles it to be so considered. The third, Polonaise-like
theme, is particularly remarkable, in which one knows not whether to
admire most the brilliancy of the artistic Soli’s or the admirably
elaborated Tutti’s--in the latter of which, the wind instruments seem
actually to engage each other in a Thematic struggle. This artistic
work is moreover conspicuous for the cheerful spirit that pervades it
throughout. The admirable execution of this Concerto did great honour
to the Composer, the Player and the whole Orchestra; and set thousands
of hands among the audience in lively and continuous motion.

“Hereupon, Concert-Master _Fischer_ surprised the Orchestra as well
as the audience not a little, by falling in with the full Organ, in
order to introduce the now ensuing chorus of the Finale, in C-Major.
This novel kind of Music, of which nothing had been heard at the
rehearsal, its artistic connecting of the Voices, its harmonious turns
and masterly modulations made every member of the Orchestra doubly
attentive. For some minutes he may have entertained the audience
in this manner, when, he dwellt upon the dominant, and to keep the
expectation yet more alive for the entry of the Chorus, by means of
a sort of Organ-Point, formed a close at this interval. This was no
sooner observed by Herr _Spohr_, than he lifted his roll of paper, and
scarcely had the last organ-tone ceased, when the whole Orchestra fell
in with the first single chord C of the Chorus; which C, the trumpets
had then to sustain alone to the end of the bar. This was executed with
the greatest punctuality. One of the trumpeters, only, preoccupied
with the Organ play, had forgotten to change his mouth piece and so
blew on in E-Minor. In an instant Herr _Spohr_ made a motion, and
nothing more of the second bar was heard from the Orchestra. Upon this
Herr _Fischer_ instantly fell in again with the Organ, continued his
Prelude, and this time closed in form with the dominant C-Major--just
as if that occurrence had been intentionally introduced.

“As no pause whatever in the music took place, so that, except by the
Orchestra, it would have been difficult for any one to have remarked
this oversight, it might have been wholly concealed, were it not to
be feared, that experienced Musicians might laugh at my here repeated
assurances of nothing but faultless and successful performances by an
Orchestra collected from twenty leagues round, after one rehearsal
only, in the same manner as our present newspaper political reports are
frequently ridiculed.

“After a pause of about a quarter of an hour, Herr _Spohr_ resumed
his Violin, Herr _Matthäi_ drew nearer to him, and now those two
admirable Artistes, by their perfect execution of a double Concerto
of Herr _Spohr_ afforded us the most lively enjoyment of alternating
admiration, astonishment and pleasure. They seemed frequently in open
feud for superiority in artistic execution, then became as it were
reconciled and poured forth together the most harmonious roulades upon
the listeners. The precision, and the rapidity with which they took
up and combined their respective tones, was worthy of admiration. The
quite original _Adagio_ of this masterly work which now followed,
commenced with a Trio for two Violincellos, impressively performed by
Herren _Preissing_ and _Müller_, and for a Contra-Bass, by Herr _Wach_
of Leipsic. When these three had ended their soft melodious play, a
_Quadro_ in long drawn and tied chords, as though from a Harmonica,
but somewhat deeper, was heard. It had a thrilling, and sweet effect.
Everybody looked round to the Bassi and Violi, from which this heavenly
harmony seemed to have in part proceeded, but every arm was still,
and the bows of Herren _Spohr_ and _Matthäi_ moved alone. It was they
alone, also, who had played that _Quadro_--and with a purity, that
upon the taking up of the Con-sonants after releasing the ties, the
ear was frequently moved with a singularly deep felt charm. After a
second similar Violincello-trio, the Quadro of the two Concerto-voices
recommenced, and proceeded to the close. The last Thesis accorded fully
with the science and beauty of the first.

“Upon this, Herr _Dotzauer_ advanced to the front music-desk, and
played, owing probably to the shortness of the remaining time, a
_Rondo_, but a Rondo of masterly elaboration and very difficult,
from a Violincello-Concerto in D-Major by _Bernard Romberg_, with an
execution, roundness and force in the sustained passages, and with a
lightness, purity, expression, and silvery tone in the melodic parts
of the higher octaves, that in his performance of this _Rondo_ alone,
he displayed in the most admirable manner his great mastery of his
instrument.

“_Beethoven’s_ Symphony in C-Major; indisputably his most pleasing and
popular one, formed the conclusion. It could not have been executed
with more grace, fire and precision. The Chorus of wind instruments in
the _Trio_ of the Minuett afforded particular enjoyment. One imagined
to hear the tones of an exceedingly pure harmonica. A general and long
continued applause evinced the thanks and satisfaction of the audience
with the choice of the masterly compositions performed, and with the
manner in which they had been executed by the assembled artists.

“Though we commenced by adverting to the difficulties which had been
surmounted by the gentleman who carried out this undertaking, both in
the arrangements for the mental and bodily recreation of his numerous
guests, we feel it a duty to add yet something in respect to the
latter, a by no means easy thing to effect in so small a town.

“The hundred Chorists were distributed among the different Inns, where
they found both bed and board. The whole of the Virtuosi, Singers and
Dilettanti were on the other hand received into respectable private
houses. But in order to render the stay of the kind lovers of Music
who had met together from such distant places, as agreable to them as
possible, Herr _Bischoff_ had made a sacrifice of the flower garden
immediately behind his house, and converted it into a Dining-room. The
Saloon erected for this purpose was decorated with green branches the
pleasing freshness of whose verdure seemed a friendly welcome to the
company.

“In this Saloon, the tables were laid out, and the repasts served.
It was a pleasure to behold so many worthy Artists and Lovers of Art
assembled here for one and the same purpose, proceeding thence to their
labour of Love, and returning therefrom to meet here anew for cheerful
enjoyment, and to pay unanimous and hearty tribute to the great father
_Haydn_, the excellent _Spohr_ and many other first rate Artists in
brimming glasses. The hilarity of the supper table was generally
heightened by lively and well sung songs. Fine voices joined, and
sang Quartetts and Canons; Herr _Methfessel_ taking his guitar would
entertain the company with pleasing Ballads, and touching Romances of
his own Composition; by way of change, he then sang a Comic Song, or
two, and exhibited his liveliness of fancy, his richness of invention,
wit, and humour of expression, as well as his intimate knowledge of
tone and harmony. Herr _Hachmeister_, the Assessor of mines from
Clausthal taking then the guitar from him in turn, charmed the company
with National Songs in the Thuringian dialect, replete with such wit
and humour as compelled the hearer despite himself, to laugh at the
cares of life.”

I and my wife, made many agreable acquaintances among the artistes
and friends of Art then assembled in Frankenhausen, among others,
that of Amtsrath _Lüder_ of Catlenburg, who up to the present time
has remained one of my most intimated friends. _Lüder_ then resided
in the neighbourhood of Bremen and was upon a journey of business to
Berlin. On arriving at the foot of the Hartz mountains, his postillion
informed him of the approaching Musical Festival in Frankenhausen and
pictured to him in so attractive a shape the Musical treat that was
to be expected there, that _Lüder_ immediately made him diverge from
the road, and take the direction of Frankenhausen. Arrived there, his
first care was to enquire for me, to ask permission to be present at
all the rehearsals. This was not only very readily granted, but I also
invited my new acquaintance whose enthusiasm for Art greatly pleased
me, to join our meetings under the tent at dinner and supper. Here in
the hours intervening between the rehearsals and the performances,
amid artistic enjoyments seasoned with lively sallies of wit and
good humour, a social intercourse sprang up so delightful, that all
who shared in it will assuredly have looked back upon it with the
greatest satisfaction. A small circle of similarly minded enthusiasts
for Art had especially gathered round me, and we soon became so
mutually attached, that after the close of the Festival it became
difficult to separate, and an excursion together to the Kyffhäuser
was determined upon. On this mountain-excursion which was favoured
by the most beautiful weather, it was the Singer _Methfessel_ from
Rudolstadt, who more particularly kept the company in the merriest
mood by his inexhaustible humour. I still remember with great pleasure
an improvised Capucin-sermon which he preached from the chancel of a
ruined cloister, in which he interwove in a half serious, half comical
manner the chief incidents of the Musical-festival. From the summit of
the Kyffhäuser, he sang also the praise of the Emperor Barbarossa, and
urged him to a speedy resurrection for the final enfranchisement of
Germany.[12]

[12] According to the ancient legend, the belief in which was once
popular throughout Germany; _Frederick Barbarossa_, seated at a stone
table in the vaulted tower of the Imperial Castle of the Kyffhäuser,
awaits since 600 years the hour of Germany’s regeneration, in order
to reappear once more in the vigour of life, prepared for new works
and achievements for the glory and well being of a united Germany. The
red beard of the Emperor grows round the table of stone in front of
him, and so soon as it has wholly grown round it for the third time,
_Frederick_ will awake. His first act will then produce a symbol of
his further mission. He will hang his shield upon a withered tree,
which will then suddenly shoot out its buds and leaves again, till
it is covered anew with verdant life and beauty! Such is the legend,
the origin of which dates far back into the middle ages, and must
be considered as a long subsisting expression of that yearning of
the popular mind in Germany which under long enduring circumstances
of political oppression looked towards the future with hopes of
enfranchisement and relief, and which associated those hopes and
aspirations with the memory of an honoured name.

  (Note of Translator.)


Arrived again at the foot of the mountain, the new friends were
reluctantly obliged to part, and each returned to his home highly
gratified.

I immediately resumed the composition of my Opera, and finished it in
the course of the winter of 1810-1811. Besides this, in my catalogue
appears the following Works at this period: A Violin-concerto
afterwards published by _Peters_, a Sonata for Harp and Violin (Op.
114, by _Schuberth_) and an Italian aria, _alla Polacca_, with Violin
Obligato, which was never engraved. I wrote the latter at the request
of Prince Frederick von Gotha, brother of the Duke, who gifted with a
pleasing tenor voice, frequently sang in the Court-concerts, and much
wished to have an Air with Violin accompaniment of my composition. It
was frequently sung, particularly when visitors were at court.

The Prince was an amiable well meaning man, who interested himself
in Music much more than his brother, and who, with the Dutchess,
kept alive the interest for the Court-concerts. Unfortunately he was
subject to an incurable complaint, epilepsy, with which he was seized
every fourteen days, (in later years, still more frequently) which
kept him down from 12 to 15 hours at a time. He was then deprived of
the use of all his limbs, and the organs of speech and the muscles of
his face were the only parts that remained unaffected. During these
dreadful attacks he would lie in bed as motionless as a corpse; but
was always pleased when any one visited him, and entertained him with
conversation. From the continual recurrence of these attacks he had
become so accustomed to his condition, that he could be quite cheerful
during their duration. His physicians considered that a milder climate
would be most likely to cure him, and for that reason sent him to
Italy. I met him in Rome during my tour in Italy in 1816; and mention
will therefore be frequently made of him at that part of my narrative.

In the spring of 1811, the Precentor _Bischoff_ again paid me a visit,
and invited me to conduct a second grand Musical Festival which
he intended giving in Frankenhausen. He also begged me to play a
Violin-Concerto on the second day of the Concert, and to write a grand
Symphony for the opening. Although I had not yet attempted that kind of
Musical composition, I acceded with pleasure to his request.

In this manner the opportunity presented itself for another interesting
task, and I immediately set about it with spirit. Although hitherto
it had been usual with me to lose after a time all taste for my first
essays in a new style of Composition, this Symphony was an exception
to the rule, for it has pleased me even in after years. As I had
previously practised it very carefully with my Orchestra, which was
composed of the _élite_ of the Frankenhausen Orchestra, although we
could have but one rehearsal of it, it was nevertheless executed
in an admirable manner at the Festival, and met, particularly from
those who took part in it, with an enthusiastic reception. I felt
highly gratified at this, more even than at the applause I gained as
Solo-player. In Leipsic also, where the Symphony was executed in the
Drapers’-House-Concert, it met with great approbation, as is shewn in
a notice of the Musical Journal, which says: “_Spohr’s_ new and yet
unpublished Symphony excited the interest and admiration of all real
lovers of music. Both in invention and elaboration, we consider it
not only to surpass all that we know of the Orchestral-Music of this
Master, but confess also, that for many years we have scarcely heard a
new work of this kind, which possesses so much novelty and originality,
without singularity and affection; so much richness and science,
without artifice and bombast. We may therefore confidently predict,
that when published, it will become a favorite piece with every great
and skilled Orchestra, and with all serious and cultivated Auditories;
but it requires both.”

Besides this Symphony, I had also written for the Musical Festival at
_Hermstedt’s_ earnest solicitation, Variations for the Clarinet, with
Orchestral accompaniment, upon themes from the “_Opferfest_” which
he performed with his usual skill. This Composition, (published by
_Schlesinger_ in Berlin as Op. 80) which carries out those themes with
a more artistic Fantasia-like freedom, than as Variations, were greatly
admired by Musicians and connoisseurs.

On the afternoon of the second day, the Musical Festival was followed
by a family fête in the house of the projector. A few weeks before, a
son had been born to him, who was now christened. He had invited the
whole of the assistants to be godfathers, who now in holiday attire
ranged themselves round the altar at the church. I held the infant
son over the baptismal font, and gave him my name “Louis”. When the
clergyman put the question to me and the other godfathers, whether we
would take care that the child should receive a Christian education, a
solemn “Yes” from full three hundred voices echoed through the church.
A Chorus executed by the singers, with Organ accompaniment, terminated
the holy ceremony.

At this second Festival my gratification was still more enhanced by the
presence of my parents among the auditory, and that they took a lively
part in the social gaieties under the tent. The projector was no less
satisfied with his speculation, and thus this Festival terminated like
that of the previous year, to the satisfaction of all.

Shortly after my return, I received intelligence from Hamburgh that
my Opera, which I had sent in in the spring, had been at length
distributed and that its representation would take place in the first
days of November. I therefore applied for a month’s leave of absence
for myself and wife, and set out with her, in the middle of October,
via Hanover, where I intended giving a concert. As this was the first
Opera of mine that was to be represented, I was in a state of great
anxiety. The shock I felt may therefore be readily imagined, upon
receiving a letter in Hanover from the manager _Schröder_, informing me
that the Opera would not be produced, because the _Prima Donna_ Madame
_Becker_ refused to take the part assigned to her, and that according
to the theatrical laws she was perfectly justified in doing so.

The matter was in this wise: Previous to beginning my work, I had
certainly taken pains to inquire of Herr _Schwenke_ respecting the
range of voice and the capabilities of the Hamburgh singers, and in
accordance therewith, I had constructed the chief parts of the opera.
But as I was without all experience in these things, I had neglected to
ascertain the personal appearance of the singers, so that, for Madame
_Becker_, a small, delicate figure, I had written the part of Donna
Isabella, who seeks for her faithless lover at the Court of Princess
Matilda disguised in man’s clothes, and at last challenges him to
mortal combat armed cap-à-pied as a knight. So long as Madame _Becker_,
knew no more about the Opera than her part, she was highly satisfied
and began to practice with great zeal. But as soon as she had read
the libretto, she declared, that she could not undertake the part, as
she would make herself perfectly ridiculous. Exceedingly annoyed at
my mistake I set off for Hamburgh, to remedy it wherever possible,
and to induce the representation of the opera. I found old _Schröder_
in very low spirits, and exceedingly dissatisfied with his theatrical
untertaking. But he had every reason to be so. Several of the
performers had failed to make their appearance, others came too late,
and some had not answered the expectations entertained of them; his
new Plays and Comedies had not been very successful, and empty houses
had been the result. Of the four Operas which he had Music written
for, two were already laid aside, because they had displeased. The one
composed by _Winter_: “_Die Pantoffeln_” had lived through some few
thinly attended representations; that of _Clasing_: “_Welcher ist der
Rechte?_” had been withdrawn from the _Repertoire_ immediately after
the first night, for in spite of the strenuous efforts of _Clasing’s_
numerous friends it was a complete failure.

With such disappointments, it was not to be wondered that the old
grumbler should be mistrustful of my Opera also, and the more so
since the most favorite singer of his theatre would not lend her aid.
But when he offered me payment of the sum agreed for it, and at the
same time laid it aside without having given it a trial, I was much
hurt and protested against it in the most positive manner. At length
after much entreaty, I obtained _Schröder’s_ consent that I should
make a trial of it with another singer, who hitherto had played only
in secondary characters, and practise her in the rôle refused by
Madame _Becker_. In this singer, a Madame _Lichtenheld_, I found great
willingness and natural capacity, and when I had simplified the most
difficult bravura passages of the part to her powers of execution,
I succeeded well with her. Thus at length the rehearsals could be
commenced, and when _Schröder_ had heard one, and had become convinced
that Madame _Lichtenheld_ would fill the part satisfactorily, the
first representation was announced for the 15. November. My former
musical acquaintances one and all, including _Romberg_ and _Prell_,
offered their services to me in the two representations in which I was
to lead the orchestra. _Hermstedt_, also, who had come to Hamburgh to
give a Concert with my support, joined them, and undertook the First
Clarinet part, for which there were some telling Soli’s and a concerted
accompaniment or a Soprano-air. With the aid of these distinguished
artists the Orchestra was considerably strengthened, and as the Singers
and the Chorus were likewise well practised, I was already greatly
pleased with the precision with which my music was performed in the
rehearsals, and therefore entertained the most lively hopes that the
Opera would please. Nevertheless on the evening of the representation,
it was not without fresh anxiety that I took my place at my desk,
for it had come to my ears that, _Clasing’s_ friends would evince an
inimical feeling towards me in revenge for the failure of his opera.
But when the music had begun, I thought of that alone, and forgot
every thing else around me. The applause with which the Overture was
received, shewed me, nevertheless, that the unfriendly party would
not make any demonstration; and so it proved. Almost every piece was
applauded, and the approbation increased yet more towards the end of
the opera. Upon the fall of the curtain a long sustained storm of
applause was given to the composer.

I ought now to have been very happy, but was by no means so. Already
at the first rehearsal some things in my music had displeased me. At
every fresh rehearsal these were increased by something new, and before
the actual representation, the half of my Opera had become distasteful
to me. I now thought I well knew how I could have made it better, and
was greatly annoyed that I had not discovered it before. Yes, indeed,
had my work appeared to me in that light on my arrival at Hamburgh,
I should have made no opposition to _Schröder’s_ intention to lay it
aside unperformed. But my musical friends were of a different opinion;
they were exceedingly pleased with this work, and wished me every
further success. _Schwenke_ wrote a full and very laudatory criticism
of the Opera, wherein he adroitly combated the well founded opinion
of its opponents, that it contained many reminiscences of the Operas
of _Mozart_, and while admitting that the form of the musical pieces
as well as the whole design recalled _Mozart_, he assigned that, as
a recommendatory feature and proof of its excellence. By this, made
watchful of myself, I became sensible of the necessity to break myself
of it, and think that I already fully effected it in “Faust” my next
Dramatic work.

With my permission, _Schwenke_ had some time before made a Piano-forte
arrangement from the Opera, which was now published by _Böhm_ in
Hamburgh, and soon found an extensive circulation.

Of the Concert which I then gave in Hamburgh with my wife and
_Hermstedt_, I recollect but little more than that the latter created
a great sensation by his highly cultivated skill. But I have a clearer
recollection of another Concert in Altona, at which we and several
of our Hamburgh friends assisted, and in which all manner of little
misfortunes befell us, which afterwards afforded matter for much
merriment.

This Concert was given by a rich Musical-amateur of Altona, who invited
the assistants from Hamburgh to a luxurious dinner. After the company
had been at table for two hours, and addressed themselves diligently
to the champaign, they became so merry and forgetful, that nobody gave
a thought to the Concert that was to follow. The terror therefore
was general, when a Messenger suddenly appeared, and announced that
the numerous Audience which had assembled was become impatient and
demanded the opening of the concert. All now hurried to the Concert
saloon; although in reality no one was any longer in a fit state to
make a public appearance. It was especially remarkable that, those
who were usually the most timid had now become the most courageous.
The Altona dilettanti-Orchestra, who were to serve as nucleus and
support to the Hamburgh Artists, were already in their places, and the
Concert immediately began with an Overture by _Romberg_ who conducted
it himself. He, who was unjustly accused of taking the _tempi_ of his
Compositions too slow, hurried the _Allegro_ of his Overture this time
so much, that the poor Dilettanti could not keep up with him. Little
therefore was wanting for the whole thing to break down from the very
overture. My wife and I were then to follow with a Sonata for harp
and violin, which as usual we were about to play without notes. Just
as we had seated ourselves, and I was about to begin, my wife, who at
all other times was self-possession itself, whispered anxiously to me:
“For Heaven’s sake, _Louis_, I cannot remember which Sonata we are to
play, nor how it begins!” I hummed softly in her ear the commencement
of it, and restored to her the necessary calmness and self-possession.
Our Play now proceeded without mishap to the end, and was received
with great applause. It was now Madame _Becker’s_ turn to sing an
Air, and _Romberg_ had just led her forward to the raised platform of
the Orchestra, when to the great astonishment of the public, she all
at once ran off, and disappeared in the room adjoining. _Dorette_,
allarmed lest she should have been taken suddenly ill, hastened after
her. But, both shortly reappeared, and I now ascertained from my wife,
that Madame _Becker_ had found her breath too short from the effects
of the dinner, and was therefore obliged to have her clothes loosened
before she could sing.

_Hermstedt_, now followed with a difficult composition of mine. He, who
always when appearing in public, went to work with the most nervous
precision in every thing, emboldened now to rashness by the fumes of
the champaign, had screwed on a new and untried plate to the mouthpiece
of his Clarinet, and even spoke vauntingly of it to me as I mounted
the platform of the orchestra. I immediately anticipated no good from
it. The Solo of my composition began with a long sustained note, which
_Hermstedt_ pitched almost inaudibly, and by degrees encreased to
an enormous power, with which he always produced a great sensation.
This time he began also in the same way, and the public listened to
the increasing volume of tone with wrapt expectancy. But just as he
was about to encrease it to the highest power, the plate twisted,
and gave out a mis-tone, resembling the shrill cry of a goose. The
public laughed, and the now suddenly sobered Virtuoso turned deadly
pale with horror. He nevertheless soon recovered himself, and executed
the remainder with his usual brilliancy, so that there was no want of
enthusiastic applause at the end.

But with poor _Schwenke_ it fared worse than all. The waist-buckle
of his pantaloons had given way during the dinner, without his being
aware of it. When therefore he had mounted into the orchestra to
take the Viol-part in a Pot-Pourri with Quartett-accompaniment which
I played at the close of the Concert, shortly after he had begun to
play, he felt his pantaloons begin to slip with every movement he
made in bow-ing. Much too conscientious a Musician, to omit a note
of his part, he patiently waited for the pauses, to pull up his
nethergarment again. His predicament did not long escape the notice
of the public, and occasioned considerable merriment. But towards the
close of the Pot-Pourri, when a 1/16 movement shook him so roughly,
that the downward tendency of his pantaloons made serious progress,
and threatened to exceed the limits of propriety, the public could no
longer restrain itself, and broke out into a general titter. By this
untoward interruption of the execution of my Solo, I was thus dragged
also, into the general calamity of the day.

On my return to Gotha, I found a letter from _Bischoff_, in which he
informed me that he had been commanded by the Governor of Erfurt to
make arrangements for a grand Musical Festival there, in the ensuing
summer, in celebration of the birthday of Napoleon, August 15. He had
already agreed with him as to the terms, and now asked me to untertake
its direction, and to write a new Oratorio for the first day. I had
long desired to try for once, something in the Oratorio-style, also,
and readily consented to the proposal. A young poet in Erfurt had
already offered me the text of an Oratorio, in which I had found
several grand passages for composition. It was called: “The last
Judgement.”

I sent for the libretto, and set to work at once. But I soon felt
that for the Oratorio-style I was yet too deficient in Counter-point
and in Fugeing; I therefore suspended my work, in order to make the
preliminary studies requisite for the subject. From one of my pupils
I borrowed _Marpurg’s_ “Art of Fuge writing” and was soon deeply and
continuously engaged in the study of that work. After I had written
half a dozen Fugues according to its instructions, the last of which
seemed to me very successful; I resumed the composition of my Oratorio,
and completed it without allowing any thing else to intervene.
According to a memorandum I made, it was begun in January 1812, and
finished in June. There would not therefore have been sufficient
time to write it out and practise it before the performance, had I
not sent the two first parts of the work to _Bischoff_, immediately
after their completion. By that means, not only could the Choruses be
carefully practised in it, but I had also sufficient time to study
the Orchestral-parts with my own orchestra, which was again to form
the nucleus of the great Erfurt orchestra. In this manner, although
the work is a very difficult one, I was enabled after one general
rehearsal only, to effect a tolerably successful performance of it.
One of the Solo-singers, alone, who sang the part of Satan, did not
give me satisfaction. This part which was written with a powerful
instrumentation, I gave by the advice of _Bischoff_ to a village
schoolmaster in the neighbourhood of Gotha, who was celebrated
throughout the whole district for his colossal bass-voice. In power
of voice he had indeed quite sufficient to outroar a whole Orchestra,
but in science, and in Music, he could by no means execute the part in
a satisfactory manner. I taught and practised him in the part myself,
and took great pains to assist him a little, but without much success.
For when the day of public trial came, he had totally forgotten every
instruction, and admonition, and gave such loose to his barbarian
voice, that he first of all frightened the auditory, and then set them
in a roar of laughter.

From overstraining his voice, he moreover almost always intonated
too high, and by that spoiled several of the most effective parts
of the oratorio. I suffered intensely from this, and my pleasure in
my composition was greatly embittered. Nevertheless it gave general
satisfaction, and was most favourably spoken of in a detailed notice
of the Musical Festival in one of the Thuringian newspapers. Another
criticism which appeared in a South-German (if I am not mistaken a
Francfort Journal) found on the other hand much to cavil with in the
work, and was altogether written in a bitter and malevolent tone.
For many years I suspected this malicious criticism was written by
Counsellor _André_ of Offenbach, as he was present at the Festival
with two of his pupils, _Arnold_ and _Aloys Schmidt_. What induced me
to suspect him of it, although _André_ had expressed himself to me
personally in praise of the work, I now no longer remember; and in
later years when I questioned him on the subject, he assured me that he
was not the author. I, myself, not only considered the work the best I
had written up to that time, but I thought I had never heard any thing
finer. Even to this day I like so much some of the choruses and Fuges,
as well as the part of Satan, that I could almost pronounce them to be
the most grand of all I ever wrote. Not so, however, with the other
themes particularly with the Soli-parts of Jesus and Mary. These are
wholly written in the Cantata style of that day and overladen with
bravoura and ornamental passages. Shortly afterwards, also, I felt the
impropriety of this style, and in later years frequently resolved to
re-write those Soli parts. But when about to begin, it seemed to me as
though I could no longer enter into the spirit of the subject, and so
it remained undone. To publish the work as it was I could not make up
my mind. Thus in later years it has lain by with out any use being made
of it.

As the above mentioned Festival in honour of Napoleon’s birth-day was
the last that took place in Erfurt and in Germany just before the
Russian Campaign, it was considered to have been ominous, that the
principal Musical piece then performed should have been “the last
Judgement”.

       *       *       *       *       *

In the Autumn of 1812 I again applied for a leave of absence for myself
and wife, which after some reluctance on the part of the Dutchess was
granted. We this time directed our journey to Vienna as the least
disturbed by the war, and the passage of troops. Our first stay was at
Leipsic, where we assisted at a Concert given by _Hermstedt_, and where
I afterwards performed my new oratorio. Of this the Musical Journal
speaks in the following manner:

“Herr _Hermstedt’s_ Concert as regards the Compositions executed, was
one of the most attractive that could be heard. With the exception of
_Mozart’s_ Overture, and the Scena by _Righini_, all the pieces were
of the composition of Concert-Master _Spohr_, and with the exception
of the Clarinet-Concerto, all newly written. This Concerto, the first
in C-Minor, and, as a Composition, the most brilliant of all Concerti
for that instrument, was again listened to with great satisfaction.
A grand Sonata for Violin and Harp, played by Herr and Madame
_Spohr_, the leading theme of which must be pronounced masterly in
conception and elaboration, and the second, consisting of a delightful
Pot-Pourri of happily combined and most pleasingly handled melodies
from the “_Zauberflöte_”,--this as well as each of the other pieces
were received with the warmest approbation. We heard besides another
Violin-Concerto[13] played by Herr _Spohr_ and a Pot-Pourri for the
Clarinet with Orchestral accompaniment. In the former, the first
_Allegro_, as regards composition and execution pleased us least. Here
and there, it seemed to us both tricky and overladen with ornament,
and considering its contents, much too long; neither was the execution
of the Virtuoso every where sufficiently distinct and clear. But the
_Adagio_, as regards composition and execution is one of the finest we
ever heard on this instrument, we may even say the very finest that was
ever produced by any Virtuoso.”

[13] This must have been the 6. (Op. 28).

Of the Oratorio, also, it speaks upon the whole, favourably. It
contains not only “many details that are original and attractive, some
even that are really charming, but which, also, too closely crowd upon
and obliterate each other. Every hearer whether he agrees or not with
_Spohr_ in his idea of an Oratorio, that is, whether he may be disposed
or not to tolerate its combination of almost every kind of treatment
and style, or rather, to see them replace each other in turn--yet every
hearer must be impressed with a lively interest in this work, and
experience a real pleasure not unmingled with astonishment at several
of its principal parts.”

According to a notice in the Musical Journal of the 8. November, I do
not appear to have made any stay at Dresden, upon this journey. But in
Prague I gave a Concert on the 12. November, and eight days after, my
Oratorio at the Theatre. A very favourable notice of the former appears
in the Musical Journal, which adverts especially to the “enchanting
unity” of execution, from which the most perfect harmonic marriage of
the two admirable artistes was to be recognised.

Of the performance of the Oratorio I alone remember that Fräulein
_Müller_ afterwards Madame _Grünbaum_, sang exquisitely in it, and that
the work was right well received by the public.

I now hastened towards the chief object of my journey. Vienna was
at that time indisputably the Capital of the Musical world. The two
greatest Composers and Reformers of Musical taste, _Haydn_ and _Mozart_
had lived there, and there produced their Master-pieces. The generation
still lived, which had seen them arise, and formed their taste in Art
from them. The worthy successor of those Art-heroes, _Beethoven_,
still resided there, and was now in the zenith of his fame, and in the
full strength of his creative power. In Vienna therefore the highest
standard for Art creations was set up, and to please there--was to
prove one’s self a Master.

I felt my heart beat as we drove over the Danube-bridge, and thought
of my approaching début. My anxiety was yet more increased by the
reflexion that I should have to compete with the greatest Violinist of
the day; for in Prague I had learnt that _Rode_ had just returned from
Russia, and was expected in Vienna. I still vividly recalled to mind
the overpowering impression which _Rode’s_ play had made upon me ten
years before in Brunswick, and how I had striven for years to acquire
his method and execution. I was now therefore anxious in the highest
degree to hear him again, in order thereby to measure my own progress.
My first question therefore on alighting from the carriage was whether
_Rode_ had arrived, and had announced a concert. This was answered in
the negative, but with the assurance that he had long been expected.

It was now therefore a matter of importance to me to be heard before
_Rode_, and I hastened as much as possible the announcement of my
concert. I succeeded also in appearing first; but _Rode_ had arrived
meanwhile, and was present at the concert. To my great surprise I felt
less intimidated than inspired by that circumstance, and played as well
as I could have desired. The Musical Journal spoke of my appearance
before “a crowded house” in the following manner:

“On the 17. December we had the pleasure to hear and admire Herr
_Louis Spohr_ and his wife at a concert. We subscribe gladly to the
favourable opinions expressed of this worthy Artiste-pair and can only
add that here also every one was charmed by their masterly play. Herr
_Spohr_ played a Violin-Concerto with a Spanish _Rondo_ and at the end
a Pot-Pourri, both of his composition; with his wife, he executed one
of his published Sonatas for harp and violin. The composition both of
the Concerto and this Sonata are excellent, and contrasted not a little
with the watery, patchwork productions with which so many practising
Musicians without talent or genius for composition, make their
appearance here.”

By the advice of some kind friends I relinquished my intention of
giving my Oratorio at my own expense, as I had projected doing in a
second Concert; since the great expenditure which a large Orchestra and
a numerous Chorus would have superadded to that of an usual Concert,
forbade the hope to realise any profit from the undertaking. Yet as
I was very desirous to have this work heard in Vienna, for I still
considered it one of the grandest of its kind, I offered to perform
it for the benefit of “the Widow’s and Orphan’s Society” on the
condition only, that for its production, the society would provide a
well appointed orchestra supported by the most distinguished Singers
and Instrumentalists in Vienna. This condition was accepted, and
fully carried out by the society, which provided a _personel_ of three
hundred assistants from among the best artistes in the city. The work
was carefully studied in two grand rehearsals, and on its production,
was performed better than I had yet heard it. I became anew enraptured
with my creation, and with me several of the assistant Musicians, among
whom more especially Herr _Clement_ the Director of the Orchestra of
the “Theatre an der Wien”.

He, had so thoroughly imbibed the spirit and substance of the work,
that the day after its performance he was enabled to play to me on the
Piano several entire parts, note for note, with all the harmonies and
orchestral figures, without ever having seen the score. But _Clement_
possessed a musical memory such perhaps as no other artiste ever
possessed. It was at that time related of him in Vienna, that after he
had heard several times “the Creation” of _Haydn_, he had learned it so
thoroughly, that with the help of the text book he was able to write a
full Pianoforte arrangement of it. He shewed this to old _Haydn_, who
was not a little alarmed at it, thinking at first that his score had
either been stolen or surreptitiously copied. Upon a nearer inspection
he found the Pianoforte arrangement so correct, that after _Clement_
had looked through the original score, he adopted it for publication.

Before my Oratorio was performed, I had a quarrel with the Censorship,
which nearly subverted the whole untertaking. They would not suffer
the names of _Mary_ and _Jesus_ to be used in the list of the
Dramatis-Personae of the Text-Book, nor above the words which they
had to sing. But after long negotiation, upon the omission of these,
the text was allowed to be printed. I could readily accede to this
omission, since from the context it was easy to understand who the
persons were.

Greatly as the work pleased the Musicians, and increased their opinion
of my talent for composition, yet its reception by the Public was
not nearly so brilliant as that which my play, and my Concerted
compositions had met with. It is true there was no want this time
also of marked applause, but it was not so general as to attract a
numerous audience to the second performance which took place three
days afterwards. This second representation in Vienna was the last the
work ever had; for in later years I saw too well its weak points and
deficiencies ever to persuade myself to give it again in public. Of the
first representation in Vienna on the 21. January the Musical Journal
spoke tolerably well.

_Salieri_ the Leader of the Imperial Orchestra had undertaken the
direction of the whole; Herr _Umlauf_ presided at the Piano, and I led
the violins. The principal parts were sung by Demoiselle _Klieber_,
Madame _Anenheim_, Demoiselle _Flamm_, Messrs. _Anders_, _Wild_,
and _Pfeiffer_. “It is difficult” says the notice “here in Vienna
to bring out an Oratorio, so as either to awaken attention to it,
or to procure for the work a permanent name--here where such grand,
successful masterpieces of the kind first made their appearance, which
are familiar to every body and which have procured for their creators
a lasting fame in the musical world. Herr _Eibler_ already attempted
to set the “Four last Things” ... to music. But his work was only
twice publickly performed, because he failed in a thoroughly even and
original style, and his composition would not bear comparison with the
works of his great predecessors of this kind. The same may be said also
of Herr _Spohr’s_ “Last Judgement” although the composer of that work
is infinitely superior in severe passages to the writer of the “Four
last things.” All the chorusses and fugues in the severe style, with
which one can find fault in some secondary parts only, have a real
artistic merit; are worked out with great industry, and were received
also with loud and general enthusiasm. The Airs, Duetts and single
Song passages, depart however too much from the real Oratorio style,
are too frequently repeated in the text, and approach more or less to
the Italian Operatic style. Some too striking reminiscences of the
“Creation” and particularly of the “Zauberflöte” lessen the merit of
the work in respect of originality. The Chorus of Devils at the end
of the first part would be more admissably in its place if introduced
in a ballet. Herr _August Arnold_ the author of the text, has also,
certainly not produced a work such as might satisfy the composer for
musical treatment.... The Theatre was scarcely half full. On the 24.,
this Oratorio was repeated before scarcely two hundred auditors. But a
work of this kind should not have been brought out in such a pleasure
loving City in Carnival time!”--

A fortnight after my first appearance, _Rode’s_ Concert came in turn.
Relying on his European reputation he had chosen the most spacious
Concert-room in Vienna, the great “Redouten-Saal” and he found it
completely filled. With almost feverish excitement I awaited the
commencement of _Rode’s_ play, which ten years before had served as
my highest model. But, already, after the first Solo, it seemed to me
that _Rode_ had lost ground in that time. I now found his play cold,
and full of mannerism. I missed his former boldness in conquering great
difficulties, and felt particularly dissatisfied with his execution of
the Cantabile. The composition as well of the new Concerto, appeared
to me far behind that of the seventh in A-Minor. In his execution of
the Variations in E-Major, which I had heard him play ten years before,
convinced me fully, that he had greatly lost in technical precision,
for he had not only simplified for himself many of the most difficult
passages, but he produced also those modified passages with timidity
and a degree of uncertainty. Neither did the public seem satisfied; at
least he failed to rouse them to any enthusiasm. The Reviewer in the
Musical Journal says, also, that _Rode_ had “not _quite_” satisfied the
expectation of the public. “His bow-stroke” continues the Reviewer,
“is long, grand and forcible, his tone full and strong--indeed, almost
too strong, cutting; he has a correct, pure intonation and is always
sure in his rebounds up to the very highest notes; his double notes
although occurring but seldom, are good, and in _Allegro_ he conquers
great difficulties with ease: on the other hand he is wanting in that
which electrifies and carries away all hearts--fire, and that winning
grace which is not otherwise to be defined, that witchery of charm that
ravishes the ear and inspires the soul. In _Adagio_, the sharpness of
his tones was still more perceptible than in _Allegro_; the result
therefore was cold. Neither did the composition awaken much interest;
it was thought far fetched and mannered. It is probable the vast size
of the great “Redouten-Saal” may have induced Herr _Rode_ to bring out
his tones so sharply, and thus they lost much of their sweetness.”

Eight days after _Rode’s_ Concert I gave my second, in the small
“Redouten Saal.” The Musical Journal speaks of it as follows: “_Spohr_
shewed himself to be a great Master of violin-play. He produced a new
composition in A-Major (published as the tenth), which was solemnly
and slowly preceded by an introduction in A-Minor. The _Adagio_ was in
D-Major. A most charming _Rondo_ concluded it. In the pleasing, and
the tender, _Spohr_ is indisputably the nightingale, of all living, at
least, to us known, Violinplayers. It is scarcely possible to execute
an _Adagio_ with more tenderness and yet so clearly, combined with
the purest good taste; added to this, he overcomes the most difficult
passages in quick-time measure, and effects the greatest possible
stretches with wonderful ease, to which certainly the large size of his
hand may be of some advantage to him. This evening he again received
a general and unanimous applause, and was repeatedly called forward,
an honour--which so far as we remember,--was conferred only upon Herr
_Polledro_. With his wife, Herr _Spohr_ played an _Allegro_ which she
performed upon the harp, with great execution, taste and expression. We
think, of all the Virtuosi whom we have heard upon that instrument none
possesses so much school, and such intensity of feeling in expression,
as Madame _Spohr_; though Demoiselle _Longhi_ may have more power, and
Demoiselle _Simonin-Pollet_ more equality in their play.”

Speaking of _Rode’s_ second Concert, the Musical Review says: that
“with a very crowded saloon he met with much more applause than before;
but in the Cantabile this time, also, he did not sufficiently satisfy
the expectations of the public.”

On the 28. January I played with _Seidler_ of Berlin in his Concert,
and as a notice of it says “bore away the palm although Herr
_Seidler’s_ play was worthy of praise.”

I could thus be very satisfied with the reception I had met with in
Vienna as an Artiste; for the public newspapers also awarded the
palm to me. At private Parties where as the rule, I not only met the
above named Violinist, but also the most distinguished of the native
Violinists Herr _Mayseder_, and had to compete with all these, my
performances met also with special acknowledgment and attention. On
these occasions there was at first always a dispute who should begin,
for each desired to be the last, in order to eclipse his predecessor.
But, I, who always prefered playing a well combined Quartett to a Solo
piece, never refused to make the beginning, and invariable succeeded in
gaining the attention and sympathy of the company by my own peculiar
style of reading and executing the classical quartetts. Then when
the others had each paraded his hobby-horse, and I observed that the
company had more liking for that sort of thing than for classical
music, I brought out one of my difficult and brilliant Pot-Pourri’s,
and invariably succeeded in eclipsing the success of my predecessors.

In the frequent opportunities of hearing _Rode_ I became more and more
convinced that he was no longer the perfect Violinist of earlier days.
By the constant repetition of the same compositions, a mannerism had
crept by degrees into his execution, that now bordered on caricature.
I had the rudeness, to remark this to him, and asked him if he no
longer remembered the way in which he played his compositions ten years
ago. Yes! I carried my impertinence so far, as to lay the variations
in G-Major before him, and said, that I would play them exactly as I
had heard him play them so frequently ten years before. After I had
finished playing, the company broke out into a rapturous applause,
and _Rode_, for decency’s sake was obliged to add a “bravo”; but one
could plainly see that he felt offended by my indelicacy. And with good
reason. I was soon ashamed of it, and advert to the circumstance now,
only, to show how high an opinion I then had of myself as a Violinist.

Satisfied in the highest degree with Vienna, I now thought of
proceeding farther, when quite unexpectedly I received from Count
_Palffy_ the then Proprietor of the Theatre “an der Wien” the offer
of an engagement there for three years, as Leader and Director of the
Orchestra. As I could not make up my mind to give up my and my wife’s
permanent life engagements, I at first decidedly declined it. But when
Herr _Treitschke_, who was the agent in the matter, offered me more
than three times the salary which I and my wife together had received
in Gotha; when he informed me that the Theatre “an der Wien” would soon
become the first in Germany, that the Count had succeeded in engaging
for it the best singers of the day, and that he now contemplated to
entrust to me the formation of the Orchestra from among the first
artists of Vienna, and further represented to me that in such an
excellent Theatre I should have the first opportunity to cultivate my
abilities and distinguish myself as a Dramatic Composer: I could no
longer withstand the temptation; requested a short delay in order to
consult with my wife, and promised to give a definite answer in a few
days.

Of the large salary that was offered to me, and which much exceeded
those of the two Leaders of the Imperial Orchestra _Salieri_ and
_Weigl_, I might hope to economise a third or perhaps the half. I
might furthermore, from the reputation I had acquired in Vienna as an
Artiste, safely reckon upon earning something considerable by Concerts,
Compositions and Tuition. Besides, I was secured as regarded the
future, even in case the proffered appointment should terminate at the
expiration of the three years, and could then carry out a favorite
plan conceived from my earliest youth, of a journey to Italy, in
company with my wife and children.

More than all these, however, I was disposed by my re-awakened desire
to write for the stage, to accept the Count’s proposal. So, after
_Dorette_ had given her consent, although with sorrow at the now
necessary separation from her mother and family, the written Contract
was drawn up and signed under the direction of a Notary, a friend of
ours. I bound myself therein as Director of the Orchestra to play in
all grand Operas, to undertake the Violin Soli’s in Operas and Ballets,
and as Conductor, to lead from the score when the other leader should
be prevented doing so. From small Operas, Ballets, and the music in
Plays, I was exempted. I now, conjointly with Count Palffy and my
new colleague, conductor _von Seifried_ proceeded to remodel the
constitution of the orchestra. The Count was not niggardly in regard
to the salaries; so I soon succeeded in procuring the services of the
most talented young artistes, and to establish an _ensemble_ that made
my Orchestra not only the best in Vienna, but raised it to one of the
first in all Germany.

Among the new appointed members was my brother _Ferdinand_, and one of
the most gifted of my other pupils, _Moritz Hauptmann_ of Dresden. He
had just arrived in Vienna and desired to establish himself there. But
my brother did not arrive till the spring.

I had stipulated at the same time for a month’s leave of absence in the
spring, to arrange my affairs in Gotha and to fetch my children. But
before that, it was necessary for me to make arrangements for another
domicile, so that on my return I could commence my own housekeeping. At
this time a circumstance took place that not only greatly influenced
this business, but, also, my artistic labours in Vienna. Scarcely
had it become known in the City that I was to remain there, when one
morning a stranger of gentlemanly exterior called on me, who introduced
himself as Herr _von Tost_, a proprietor of manufactories and a
passionate lover of music. In excuse for the intrusiveness of his
visit he pleaded his desire to make a proposition to me. After he had
seated himself, and I full of expectation had taken a chair opposite
to him, he first expressed his admiration of my talent as a Composer,
and then the wish that I would assign over to him for a proportionate
pecuniary consideration all that I might compose or had already written
in Vienna, for the term of three years, to be his sole property during
that time; to give him the original scores, and to keep myself, even,
no copy of them. After the lapse of three years he would return the
manuscripts to me, and I should then be at liberty either to publish
or to sell them. After I had pondered a moment over this strange
and enigmatical proposition, I first of all asked him whether the
compositions were not to be played during those three years? Hereupon,
Herr _von Tost_ replied: oh! “yes, as often as possible, but each time
on my lending them for that purpose, and only in my presence.” He would
not, he added prescribe the kind of compositions they should be; but he
more particularly wished they should be such as would permit of being
produced in Private Circles, therefore, Quartetts and Quintetts for
stringed instruments and Sextetts, Octetts and Nonettes for stringed
and wind instruments. I was to consider upon his proposal and fix the
sum for each kind of composition. Upon this he presented me with his
card and took leave of me.

My wife and I vainly endeavoured to discover the object Herr _von Tost_
could have in making such a proposal; and I therefore resolved to ask
him the question plump and plain. Before doing this I made enquiries
about him, and ascertained that he was a wealthy man, the proprietor of
large cloth manufactories near Znaim, was passionately fond of music,
and never missed being present at every public concert. This sounded
well, and I resolved to accede to the proposal. As compensation for
the three years cession of my manuscripts, I fixed the amount for a
Quartett at thirty Ducats, for a Quintett five and thirty, and so on
progressively higher for the other kinds. When I now wished to know
what Herr _von Tost_ intended doing with the works during the three
years; he at first would not satisfy me, and said, that as soon as he
had bound himself by writing not to publish my compositions, it could
not in the least concern me: but when he perceived, that I had still
some misgivings, he added: “I have two objects in view. First, I desire
to be invited to the music Parties in which you will execute your
compositions, and for that I must have them in my keeping; secondly,
possessing such treasures of art, I hope upon my business journeys to
make an extensive acquaintance among the lovers of music, which may
then serve me also in my manufacturing interests!”

Although unable to understand thoroughly Herr _von Tost’s_ speculation,
I was obliged mentally to confess, that at any rate he had an exalted
idea of the worth of my compositions. This was very flattering to me,
and suppressed all further hesitation. As Herr _von Tost_ had now also,
nothing to object to in the price demanded, nor to the requisition
for payment upon delivery of the manuscripts, the business was soon
concluded by a written agreement in form.

I had brought with me to Vienna one manuscript, a Solo-Quartett for
Violin, which I had finished on the journey. I was just then also
engaged upon a second. I determined to finish that before leaving for
Gotha, and then deliver both to Herr _von Tost_.

Meanwhile I had been so fortunate as to find convenient apartments
in the immediate neighbourhood of the Theatre “an der Wien” on the
first floor of the house of a cabinet maker. As they had been somewhat
disfigured by their last occupants I had them newly painted and
decorated, and was just on the point of furnishing them. I therefore
delivered my two Quartetts to Herr _von Tost_, and demanded their price
of sixty ducats, remarking at the same time that I required the money
for the furnishing of my new domicile. “I will provide you with that,
complete in every respect” was his reply, “and much cheaper also than
if you were to buy them yourself; for I have business transactions with
all those with whom you will have to deal, and therefore can obtain
them on lower terms than you. It will give me moreover an opportunity
to collect some outstanding debts. Appoint therefore a day when I shall
call for you and your wife in order that we may choose the things
together.”

And so the thing was done. We first drove to the new apartments, where
Herr _von Tost_ with great tact and business knowledge sketched an
estimate of all we should require. We then went from one shop and
warehouse to the other, and my wife and I had continually to guard
against his choosing too much, and frequently the most costly and
beautiful articles. We could not however prevent him from ordering for
the best room, a suite of mahagony furniture with silk coverings and
curtains to match; and for the kitchen, a mass of cooking utensils,
crockery and a table service more befitting a capitalist than an
unpretending artiste. It was in vain that _Dorette_ represented we
should give no parties, and therefore did not require so large a
table service. But he was not to be persuaded, and when I expressed
the fear that the whole arrangements would be too expensive for my
circumstances, he replied: “Make yourself easy, it will not cost you
too much; neither shall I ask for any cash payment. By degrees you will
soon square all accounts with your manuscripts.”

Nothing more was to be said against this and thus we found ourselves
in possession of apartments fitted up in a style so handsome and yet
tasteful, as for certain no other artist-family in the City could shew.

I now got every thing ready for my journey. My wife was invited to
reside with a lady of her acquaintance, the sister of the Advocate
_Zizius_, a great lover of music, in whose house we had frequently
played, so that during my absence I could leave her without any
uneasiness.

I had been informed, that a Leipsic merchant about to return home in
his own carriage with extra-post-horses was desirous of meeting with a
fellow-traveller; I hastened therefore to offer my company, and soon
agreed with him upon the terms. I now no longer recollect his name,
but, that he was a well informed and agreable companion, from whom
I parted in the most friendly manner. We journeyed without stopping
to Prague, but remained there a whole day to rest ourselves. I spent
that day very pleasantly at the house of my friend _Kleinwächter_. On
leaving Prague we were obliged to leave the high road to Dresden, as
the armies of the belligerent powers were drawn up there opposite to
each other, and the bridge over the Elbe had been made impassable,
the French having blown up several arches. We were therefore obliged
to find a way over the Erzgebirge, where we also met with detachments
of troops, by which however, we were neither stopped nor turned back.
We arrived therefore without further adventure at Chemnitz. But here
something befell me that filled me with such terror, that I fainted
away, a circumstance which with my strong frame of body, never occured
to me before or since.

We arrived at Chemnitz at noon, just as a numerous company at the
hotel were about to sit down to dinner. We joined them, and I took a
seat between my fellow-traveller and the hostess. While the latter was
helping the soup, I like the rest of the guests proceeded to cut a
slice from a large brown loaf that lay before me. I applied the knife
to the loaf, but it would make no incision, from having (as afterwards
appeared) come in contact with a small stone baked into the crust. This
induced me to think the knife was blunt, and to increase the force of
the pressure. Upon this it suddenly slipped off and glancing on to the
ball of my left fore finger cut off a considerable piece of the flesh,
which fell upon the plate before me. A stream of blood followed. The
sight of this, or rather the thought, that now there would be an end
to my violin playing, and that I should no longer be able to support
myself and family, filled me with such horror that I fell insensible
from my chair. When after the lapse of about ten minutes I recovered
my senses, I saw the whole company in commotion and occupied with me.
My first look fell upon my finger, which I found wrapped round with a
large piece of English plaister that the kind hostess had brought. It
adhered closely in the hollow of the wound, and to my comfort I could
now see that the whole ball of the finger had not been cut off, as I
had at first imagined. Nevertheless almost the half of it, together
with a large piece of the nail were gone. As I scarcely experienced any
pain, I left the strapping undisturbed, and first applied to a surgeon
on arriving at Leipsic, who also let the plaister remain, and only
advised me to be careful of all ungentle contact with my finger.

Thus somewhat consoled I arrived home in Gotha. I found the Court very
much annoyed about my contemplated removal to Vienna; the Dutchess was
so angry that I had much difficulty to soothe her, and the more so,
as I was now unable to play once more as she had so much wished, at
a parting Court-Concert. My mother-in-law was also greatly grieved.
I hastened therefore as much as possible to get away from all these
unpleasant circumstances. A few weeks before, I had commissioned my
old friend _Bärwolf_ to dispose of the furniture and things which I
did not purpose taking with me. In this he had been successful. I had
therefore the reserved articles packed up, consisting chiefly of beds,
looking glasses, music, clothes, linen etc., and dispatched beforehand
as freight to Ratisbonne for water carriage. Eight days afterwards I
followed with my brother _Ferdinand_, my two children and a young girl,
an orphan, whom my mother-in-law had taken charge of, and brought up,
and now gave to me as nursemaid for the children.

The parting with my relations and dear Gotha, was a very sorrowful
one; but favoured with the most delightful weather, we soon cheered up
again, and I was highly amused with the artless remarks of the children
upon the numerous objects now seen by them for the first time. So we
arrived very tired it is true, but very happy, in Ratisbonne. There
we stopped some days, during which I made every preparation for the
voyage down the Danube to Vienna. I hired at a moderate price a boat
to myself, and had my packages which had already arrived as freight,
put on board. The beds were unpacked, and spread out under the little
wooden house on board the boat, for our repose at night. The trunks
and boxes served as seats. As we purposed continuing our voyage day
and night without stopping anywhere, provisions for four or five days
were laid in. The boat’s company consisted besides me and mine, of the
skipper, his wife who undertook the cooking, the boatman, and three
trades-apprentices to whom I gave a free passage and food, for which
they had agreed to lend a diligent hand at the oars.

We were in the month of May, the moon was full, and the deep blue sky
was outspread over the charming country round. Spring had just decked
all nature in her first dress of tender green, and the fruit trees
were still laden with their beautiful blossom. The bushy banks of the
majestic stream were the resort of numerous nightingales, which in
bright calm nights particularly, poured forth an unceasing melody.
It was indeed a delightful voyage, and I have striven continually,
during my whole long life, to make it again under similar favourable
circumstances; but alas! in vain.

While we were passing the celebrated _Rapids_ and the _Whirlpool_,
which at that time could not be effected wholly free from danger, our
skipper who till then had been very jovial became all at once serious,
and impressively cautioned the rowers to obey his orders with the
greatest punctuality. The moment the downward rushing stream seized
upon our boat, he turned pale, his wife threw herself upon her knees
and howled more than spoke a prayer to the Holy Virgin. Hereupon I
cautioned my brother who like me was a skillful swimmer, should any
accident occur, to stand by me in saving the children. But we descended
safely the shooting rapids and steered clear of the whirlpool, which is
only dangerous for very small boats.

Upon the rock, which stands in the middle of the stream at the end of
the rapids, and which by its throwing back the waves with violence
occasions the whirlpool, dwellt then an old hermit, who subsisted upon
the charitable gifts of the passing travellers. He put off and rowed
over to us in his little skiff, to the great delight of the children,
who had never before seen a hermit, and when alongside of us he
received the customary donation.

On the fourth day of our voyage we arrived towards evening at Vienna,
and from afar could see _Dorette_ in company with her hostess, awaiting
our arrival at the landing place. That was a happy meeting! The luggage
was taken to our new domicile the same evening, whither we moved the
following day.

By the time I had arrived in Vienna, my wound was almost healed. To
my surprise, and to that of the surgeon to whom I related it, under
the English sticking plaister which still enveloped my finger, a new
flesh had grown in the place of that which had been cut away, and
had by degrees assumed the previous form and size of the ball of the
finger. The piece cut out of the nail had also grown again, though but
imperfectly joined to the rest of the nail, so that there yet remained
a gap, which is even still visible, and shews plainly the extent of the
excision. With the help of a leather finger stall I could use my finger
again, and though I could not yet play a Solo, yet I could perform my
duties in the orchestra.

I now led a very active and a very happy life in the enjoyment of
the society of my family. The early dawn found me at the piano, or
at the writing table, and every other moment of the day which my
orchestral duties or the tuition of my pupils permitted was devoted
to composition. Yes, my head was at that time so continually at
work, that on my way to my pupils and when taking a walk I was
constantly composing, and by that means acquired a readiness in
working out mentally, not only long periods, but whole pieces of
music so completely, that without any further labour they could be
at once written off. As soon as this was done, they were as though
effaced from my mind, and then I had room again for new combinations.
_Dorette_ frequently chid me in our walks for this perpetual thinking,
and was delighted when the prattle of the children diverted me
from it. When this had once been done, I gladly gave myself up to
external impressions; but I was not to be permitted to relapse into
my thoughtful mood again, and _Dorette_ with great skill knew how to
prevent it.

In the first summer of our residence in Vienna, we already made
ourselves well acquainted with the beautiful environs of the City,
and almost every fine evening, when I was not engaged at the Theatre,
we spent in the open air. Then, accompanied by the nursemaid carrying
our simple evening-repast in a small basket, we used to seek out some
spot from whence we could have a fine view of the country, and see the
sun go down. On Sunday, also, we used to hire a fly at the “Linie”,
and make farther excursions to Leopoldsberg, or to the Brühl or to
Laxenburg and Baden.

But the favorite walk of the children was always to Schönbrunn to see
the menagery, or to the “Dörfl” in the Prater, where they ever beheld
with new transport the puppet and dog shows, and other diverting
wonders. I and my wife, half children too in disposition, shared
intensely in all the pleasure of our little pets. It was a lovely,
joyous time! so free from care!

After my return from Gotha, my first work was the composition of
“Faust.” Before my journey thither, I had had another subject in view,
which _Theodor Körner_ was to have worked out for me as an Opera. I
had made the young poet’s acquaintance soon after my first arrival in
Vienna; he was then already as much admired for his amiable manners as
for the success of his theatrical pieces. I met him at almost every
party where I played, and as _Körner_ was very fond of music we soon
took to each other. When it was decided that I should remain in Vienna,
I asked _Körner_ to write an Opera for me and proposed for subject
the legend of the “Rübezahl”. _Körner_, who had been present at both
performances of the “Last Judgement”, and who had a good opinion of my
talent for composition acquiesced without hesitation, and went to work
with zest upon the materials proposed. But, suddenly it was reported
that _Körner_ was about to join _Lützow’s_ light horse, and fight for
the freedom of Germany. I hastened to him and endeavoured like many
other of my friends to dissuade him from that intention; but without
success. We soon saw him depart. It became afterwards known, that it
was not alone his enthusiasm for the war of German independance, but an
unfortunate and unrequited love for the handsome actress _Adamberger_
that drove him from Vienna, and to an early death.

I thus saw my hope of an Opera-libretto from the pen of the youthful
and gifted poet, destroyed, and was now obliged to look elsewhere for
another. It was therefore very opportune that Herr _Bernhard_ had
offered me his version of “Faust” for composition, and we were soon
agreed upon the terms. Some alterations that I had wished to have made,
were completed by the author during my journey to Gotha, so that I
could begin upon it immediately after my return. From the list of my
Compositions, I find that I wrote that Opera in less than four months,
from the end of May to the middle of September. I still remember with
what enthusiasm and perseverance I worked upon it. As soon as I had
completed some of the parts I hastened with them to _Meyerbeer_, who
then resided in Vienna, and begged him to play them to me from the
score, a thing in which he greatly excelled. I then undertook the Vocal
parts and executed them in their different characters and voices with
great enthusiasm. When my voice was not sufficiently flexible for the
purpose, I helped myself by whistling, in which I was well practised.
_Meyerbeer_ took great interest in this work, which appears to have
kept its ground up to the present time, as he during his direction
of the Opera at Berlin put “Faust” again upon the stage, and had it
studied with the greatest care.

_Pixis_ the younger, also, who then resided with his parents in Vienna,
as well as _Hummel_ and _Seyfried_, shewed a great predeliction for
this Opera, so that I offered it for representation at the Theatre
“an der Wien” with the fairest hopes of a brilliant success. Count
_Palffy_, with whom I was then still on good terms, accepted it
immediately, and promised to distribute the characters as soon as
possible and to bring it out. While engaged on the work, it is true,
I had the personnel of my Theatre in my eye; and wrote the Faust for
_Forti_, the Mephistopheles for _Weinmüller_, Hugo for _Wild_, Franz
for _Gottdank_, Cunigunda for Madame _Campi_, and Rosa for Demoiselle
_Teiner_; but nevertheless, (apart from the circumstance that I at
that time especially did not yet understand how to keep myself within
the bounds of the natural compass of the voice) all manner of things
had escaped my pen that did not suit the above named singers, as, for
instance: the long ornamental passages in the air of Hugo, for _Wild_,
who at that time had but a limited power of execution. This at a later
period was urged by the Count, when I had a disagreement with him, as
an excuse for withdrawing his consent, and actually the opera was never
produced while I was in Vienna. Some years afterwards, it was brought
out with great success, and in more recent times was put upon the stage
again with increased approbation. I, who had always felt an interest in
my compositions so long only as I was engaged on them, and so to say,
full of them; bore with great equanimity of mind the banishment of my
score to the shelves of the library of the Theatre, and immediately set
to work on new subjects. Even the pianoforte-arrangement of the opera
that _Pixis_ had taken great pleasure in preparing, I did not publish
till many years afterwards at _Peter’s_ in Leipsic.

After having finished Faust, I thought it my duty to proceed to the
fulfillment of my agreement with Herr _von Tost_. I therefore enquired
of him, what kind of composition he would now prefer. My Art-Mæcenas,
reflected a while, and then said: a Nonet, concerted for the four
stringed instruments, Violin, Viol, Violincello, and Double-Bass;
and the five principal wind-Instruments, Flute, Oboë, Clarinet, Horn
and Bassoon, written in such a manner that the character of each of
those instruments should be properly brought out, might be both an
interesting and grateful theme; and as he did not in the least doubt
that I should successfully accomplish it, he would suggest that to
me as the next subject to choose. I felt attracted by the difficulty
of the task, consented to it with pleasure, and commenced the work
at once. This was the origin of the well known Nonet, published by
_Steiner_ in Vienna as op. 31, and which up to the present time is the
only work of its kind. I completed it in a short time and delivered the
score to Herr _von Tost_. He had it written out, and then invited the
first artists in Vienna to his house, in order to study it under my
direction. It was then performed at one of the first musical parties in
the beginning of the winter, and met with such unanimous applause, that
its repetition was frequently called for during the season. Herr _von
Tost_ would then appear each time with a music-portfolio under his arm,
lay the different instrumental parts upon the music-stands himself, and
when the performance was ended, lock them up again. He felt as happy
at the success of the work as if he himself had been the composer. I
played, also, very frequently at musical parties, the two Quartetts of
which he possessed the manuscripts, and thus his desire to be invited
to numerous musical parties was fully accomplished. Indeed, wherever I
played, people soon became so accustomed to see Herr _von Tost_, also,
with his portefolio of music, that he used to be invited even when I
did not play any of his manuscripts.

Before the end of the year 1813, I wrote another _Rondo_ for harp and
violin for my wife and self, and a Quartett for stringed instruments
for Herr _von Tost_. It is the one in G-Major, Op. 33 which from an
oversight the publisher has marked as Nr. 2. It was nevertheless,
written six months before the one in E-Major.

This Quartett was the occasion of my becoming entangled in a literary
feud, which was the first and also the last that I ever engaged in
about my compositions. It had met with a particularly favourable
reception among the Artists and lovers of art in Vienna, and I
considered it, also, and with reason, as the best I had written up to
that time. It was therefore the more mortifying to me that the reviewer
in a Viennese Art-journal of the day could find nothing good whatever
in it. I was more particularly hurt by the malicious manner in which
he spoke of the theoretical handling of the first theme, of which I
was proud; and which had excited the admiration of connoisseurs. Even
now, after so long a period I recollect the words, which were nearly as
follow: “This eternal rechewing of the theme in every voice and key,
is to me just as if one had given an order to a stupid servant, that
he cannot understand, and which one is obliged to repeat to him over
and over again in every possible shape of expression. The composer
appears to have considered his auditors in the same light as the stupid
servant.”

I soon ascertained that the anonymous reviewer was Herr _von Mosel_,
the composer of a lyric tragedy called “Salem”, of which I certainly
had said very openly: “I never heard any thing so wearisome in all my
life.” This opinion had unluckily reached the ears of the writer, and
had excited his gall to this degree. Herr _von Tost_ who was more proud
of my compositions, particularly those he had in his portefolio than
the composer himself, would not rest until I had written a replication
to the criticism. What I said in reply, particularly in defence of the
treatment of my theme, I now no longer remember, but I recollect, I
was prodigal in side-thrusts at “Salem”. This was pouring oil on the
fire, and so a disputation ensued, which would have been continued
much longer, had not the censorship put a stop to it by forbidding the
Editor of the journal to insert any thing more on the subject. As such
quarrels were exceedingly unpleasant to me, I was very glad to be able
to return to my harmless occupation of composing.

In the autumn of 1813, _Dorette_ presented me with a son. Our joy at
this increase to our family was unfortunately of short duration; for
the boy soon became sickly and died, before he was three months old.
His poor mother sought and found relief in her harp; she practised with
me the new _Rondo_ for my benefit-concert that was to take place in
December. According to the musical journal, this concert took place in
the small “Redouten-Saal”, and my brother _Ferdinand_ made his début in
a Violin Duet with me.

In the meantime, the great battle of Leipsic had been fought. The
allied armies had crossed the Rhine, and it was hoped they would soon
enter Paris. In Vienna great preparations were made to celebrate that
entry, and the return of the Emperor and his victorious army. All
the Theatres, had had incidental commemorative pieces written and
composed, and the newly instituted _Society of the friends of music
of the Austrian Empire_ under the patronage of the Archduke _Rudolph_
made preparations for a monster performance of _Handel’s_ “Samson”
in the Imperial Riding-school; for which Herr _von Mosel_ increased
the instrumentation. Other Societies undertook similar performances.
This gave Herr _von Tost_ the idea of making arrangements for a grand
musical performance on the return of the Emperor, and he asked me if
I would write a Cantata for the occasion, the subject of which should
be the liberation of Germany. I willingly consented, but with the
observation, that this subject in itself offered but few favourable
passages to the composer, and that in order to obtain such, the text
should be written by a _good_ poet.

“Oh! there shall be no want of that” was the reply. “I will immediately
go to Frau _von Pichler_, and have no doubt, that she will untertake
to furnish you with the text.” And so she did. I consulted with
the authoress upon the form and contents, and she then handed me a
text-book, which in rich variety of domestic and warlike scenes
presented a succession of favourable materials for composition.

I immediately set to work upon it, and finished this Cantata, which
takes two hours to perform, in less than three months, from January
to the middle of March 1814, in the midst of all my other numerous
occupations.

Meanwhile Herr _von Tost_, had engaged the four best singers in Vienna
for the soli-parts, viz Mesdames _Buchwieser_ and _Milder_, and Messrs.
_Wild_ and _Weinmüller_, and for the choruses he purposed to combine
the whole of the church-choirs and the chorus-singers of the theatre.
The vocal parts were written and distributed, and I had already gone
several times to Madame _Milder_, to assist her in practising her part;
when, one morning Herr _von Tost_ rushed into my room and exclaimed in
despair: “I have just now had the great Redouten-Saal refused to me for
our performance, under the idle pretence that it cannot be spared on
account of the preparation for the Court-festivals! It is from sheer
jealousy alone of the Musical Society, who will not allow any other
grand performance in the Riding-school but their own. What is to be
done? Since the destruction of the Apollo Saloon, there is no locale
in Vienna except the “Great Redouten-Saal” fit for such a musical
performance.”

At the moment, the thought occured to me of the Circus of Herr _de
Bach_ in the Prater. We immediately drove out there, to see whether the
Riding-ring in the centre of the building would afford sufficient room
to hold our orchestra and the personnel of the theatre. I thought it
would, and promised myself an immense effect from the disposing of the
body of assistants in the centre of the building. But unfortunately,
this locale also, for some reason which I no longer recollect, was not
to be had, and so the whole undertaking failed, to the great grief of
Herr _von Tost_.

This Cantata shared the same fate as “Faust.” It was first produced
long after I had left Vienna. I heard it for the first time in 1815 at
the musical Festival at Frankenhausen, on the anniversary of the battle
of Leipsic.

As with me, so it fared with _Beethoven_ in a similar Festive
composition; neither, also, was his performed at that period. It was
called “Der glorreiche Augenblick”[14] and was published later with
altered text by _Haslinger_ in Vienna.

[14] “The glorious moment.”

While mentioning _Beethoven_, it occurs to me, that I have not yet
adverted to my friendly relations with that great artist, and I
therefore hasten to supply the deficiency.

Upon my arrival in Vienna I immediately paid a visit to _Beethoven_; I
did not find him at home, and therefore left my card. I now hoped to
meet him at some of the musical parties, to which he was frequently
invited, but was soon informed that, _Beethoven_ since his deafness
had so much increased that he could no longer hear music connectedly,
had withdrawn himself from all musical parties, and had become very
shy of all society. I made trial therefore of another visit; but
again without success. At length I met him quite unexpectedly at the
eating-house where I was in the habit of going with my wife every
day at the dinner hour. I had already now given concerts, and twice
performed my oratorio. The Vienna papers had noticed them favourably.
_Beethoven_ had therefore heard of me when I introduced myself to him,
and he received me with an unusual friendliness of manner. We sat down
at the same table, and _Beethoven_ became very chatty, which much
surprised the company, as he was generally taciturn, and sat gazing
listlessly before him. But it was an unpleasant task to make him hear
me, and I was obliged to speak so loud as to be heard in the third room
off. _Beethoven_ now came frequently to these dining rooms, and visited
me also at my house. We thus soon became well acquainted: _Beethoven_
was a little blunt, not to say uncouth; but a truthful eye beamed from
under his bushy eyebrows. After my return from Gotha I met him now and
then at the theatre “an der Wien”, close behind the orchestra, where
Count _Palffy_ had given him a free seat. After the opera he generally
accompanied me to my house, and passed the rest of the evening with
me. He could then be very friendly with _Dorette_ and the children. He
spoke of music but very seldom. When he did, his opinions were very
sternly expressed, and so decided as would admit of no contradiction
whatever. In the works of others, he took not the least interest; I
therefore had not the courage to shew him mine. His favorite topic of
conversation at that time was a sharp criticism of the management of
both theatres by _Prince Lobkowitz_ and Count _Palffy_. He frequently
abused the latter in so loud a tone of voice, while we were yet even
within the walls of his theatre, that not only the public leaving
it, but the Count himself could hear it in his office. This used
to embarrass me greatly, and I then always endeavoured to turn the
conversation upon some other subject.

_Beethoven’s_ rough and even repulsive manners at that time, arose
partly from his deafness, which he had not learned to bear with
resignation, and partly from the dilapidated condition of his pecuniary
circumstances. He was a bad housekeeper, and had besides the misfortune
to be plundered by those about him. He was thus frequently in want of
common necessaries. In the early part of our acquaintance, I once asked
him, after he had absented himself for several days from the dining
rooms: “You were not ill, I hope?”--“My boot was, and as I have only
one pair, I had house-arrest”, was his reply.

But some time afterwards he was extricated from this depressing
position by the exertions of his friends. The proceeding was as follows:

_Beethoven’s_ “Fidelio”, which in 1804 (or 1805) under very
unfavourable circumstances, (during the occupation of Vienna by the
French), had met with very little success, was now brought forward
again by the director of the Kärnthnerthor-Theatre and performed for
his benefit. _Beethoven_ had allowed himself to be persuaded to write
a new overture for it (in E), a song for the jailor, and the grand air
for Fidelio (with horns-obligati) as also to make some alterations.
In this new form the Opera had now great success, and kept its place
during a long succession of crowded performances. On the first night,
the composer was called forward several times, and now became again the
object of general attention. His friends availed themselves of this
favorable opportunity to make arrangements for a concert in his behalf
in the great “Redouten Saal” at which the most recent compositions of
_Beethoven_ were to be performed. All who could fiddle, blow, or sing
were invited to assist, and not one of the most celebrated artists of
Vienna failed to appear. I and my orchestra had of course also joined,
and for the first time I saw _Beethoven_, direct. Although I had heard
much of his leading, yet it surprised me in a high degree. _Beethoven_
had accustomed himself to give the signs of expression to his orchestra
by all manner of extraordinary motions of his body. So often as a
_Sforzando_ occured, he tore his arms which he had previously crossed
upon his breast, with great vehemence asunder. At a _piano_, he bent
himself down, and the lower, the softer he wished to have it. Then
when a _crescendo_ came, he raised himself again by degrees, and upon
the commencement of the _forte_, sprang bolt upright. To increase the
forte yet more, he would sometimes, also, join in with a shout to the
orchestra, without being aware of it.

Upon my expressing my astonishment to _Seyfried_, at this extraordinary
method of directing, he related to me a tragi-comical circumstance that
had occurred at _Beethoven’s_ last concert at the Theatre “an der Wien.”

_Beethoven_ was playing a new Pianoforte-Concerto of his, but forgot at
the first _tutti_, that he was a Soloplayer, and springing up, began to
direct in his usual way. At the first _sforzando_ he threw out his arms
so wide asunder, that he knocked both the lights off the piano upon
the ground. The audience laughed, and _Beethoven_ was so incensed at
this disturbance, that he made the orchestra cease playing, and begin
anew. _Seyfried_, fearing, that a repetition of the accident would
occur at the same passage, bade two boys of the chorus place themselves
on either side of _Beethoven_, and hold the lights in their hands. One
of the boys innocently approached nearer, and was reading also in the
notes of the piano-part. When therefore the fatal _sforzando_ came, he
received from _Beethoven’s_ out thrown right hand so smart a blow on
the mouth, that the poor boy let fall the light from terror. The other
boy, more cautious, had followed with anxious eyes every motion of
_Beethoven_, and by stooping suddenly at the eventful moment he avoided
the slap on the mouth. If the public were unable to restrain their
laughter before, they could now much less, and broke out into a regular
bacchanalian roar. _Beethoven_ got into such a rage, that at the first
chords of the solo, half a dozen strings broke. Every endeavour of the
real lovers of music to restore calm and attention were for the moment
fruitless. The first _allegro_ of the Concerto was therefore lost to
the public. From that fatal evening _Beethoven_ would not give another
concert.

But the one got up by his friends, was attended with the most brilliant
success. The new compositions of _Beethoven_ pleased extremely,
particularly the symphony in A-Major (the seventh); the wonderful
second theme was _encored_; and made upon me also, a deep and lasting
impression. The execution was a complete masterpiece, inspite of the
uncertain and frequently laughable direction of _Beethoven_.

It was easy to see that, the poor deaf _Maestro_ of the Piano, could
no longer hear his own music. This was particularly remarkable in a
passage in the second part of the first _allegro_ of the symphony.
At that part there are two pauses in quick succession, the second of
which, is _pianissimo_. This, _Beethoven_ had probably overlooked,
for he again began to give the time before the orchestra had executed
this second pause. Without knowing it therefore, he was already from
ten to twelve bars in advance of the orchestra when it began the
_pianissimo_. _Beethoven_, to signify this in his own way, had crept
completely under the desk. Upon the now ensuing _crescendo_, he again
made his appearance, raised himself continually more and more, and
then sprang up high from the ground, when according to his calculation
the moment for the _forte_ should begin. As this did not take place,
he looked around him in affright, stared with astonishment at the
orchestra, that it should still be playing pianissimo, and only
recovered himself, when at length the long expected _forte_ began, and
was audible to himself.

Fortunately this scene did not take place at the public performance,
otherwise the audience would certainly have laughed again.

As the saloon was crowded to overflowing and the applause enthusiastic,
the friends of _Beethoven_ made arrangements for a repetition of the
concert, which brought in an almost equally large amount. For some time
therefore _Beethoven_ was extricated from his pecuniary difficulties;
but, arising from the same causes, these reoccurred to him more than
once before his death.

Up to this period, there was no visible falling off in _Beethoven’s_
creative powers. But as from this time, owing to his constantly
increasing deafness, he could no longer hear any music, that of a
necessity must have had a prejudicial influence upon his fancy. His
constant endeavour to be original and to open new paths, could no
longer as formerly, be preserved from error by the guidance of the
ear. Was it then to be wondered at that his works became more and more
eccentric, unconnected, and incomprehensible? It is true there are
people, who imagine they can understand them, and in their pleasure
at that, rank them far above his earlier masterpieces. But I am not
of the number, and freely confess that. I have never been able to
relish the last works of _Beethoven_. Yes! I must even reckon the much
admired Ninth Symphony among them, the three first themes of which,
inspite of some solitary flashes of genius, are to me worse than all
of the eight previous Symphonies, the fourth theme of which is in my
opinion so monstrous and tasteless, and in its grasp of _Schiller’s_
Ode so trivial, that I cannot even now understand how a genius like
_Beethoven’s_ could have written it. I find in it another proof of
what I already remarked in Vienna, that _Beethoven_ was wanting in
æsthetical feeling and in a sense of the beautiful.

As at the time I made _Beethoven’s_ acquaintance, he had already
discontinued playing both in public, and at private parties; I had
therefore but one opportunity to hear him, when I casually came to the
rehearsal of a new Trio (D-Major 3/4 time) at _Beethoven’s_ house. It
was by no means an enjoyment; for in the first place the pianoforte
was woefully out of tune, which however little troubled _Beethoven_,
since he could hear nothing of it, and, secondly, of the former so
admired excellence of the virtuoso, scarcely any thing was left, in
consequence of his total deafness. In the _forte_, the poor deaf man
hammered in such a way upon the keys, that entire groups of notes were
inaudible, so that one lost all intelligence of the subject unless
the eye followed the score at the same time. I felt moved with the
deepest sorrow at so hard a destiny. It is a sad misfortune for any
one to be deaf; how then should a musician endure it without despair?
_Beethoven’s_ almost continual melancholy was no longer a riddle to me
now.

The next thing I wrote after finishing the Cantata, was a
Violin-quartett (the tenth, op. 30 published by _Mechetti_ in Vienna.)
Being very brilliant for the first violin, it was soon my hobby-horse,
and I played it times innumerable at private parties. Then followed
the Octett, in which by Herr _von Tost’s_ wish, who then contemplated
a journey to England, I took up a theme from _Handel_, varied, and
carried it out thematically, as he was of opinion it would on that
account excite great interest in that country. I also played this
composition very frequently, in which besides myself the clarinetist
_Friedlowsky_ and the hornist _Herbst_, and another whose name I now
forget, found especial opportunity to distinguish themselves.

In the autumn of 1814, the crowned heads of Europe and their Ministers
assembled in Vienna, and that famed Congress began, from which the
German nations expected to see the fulfilment of all the promises made
to them for their self devotion. A swarm of idlers and curious poured
from all parts into Vienna, to be present at the splendid festivities,
with which the Emperor was to entertain his guests. Before the
Emperor’s return to Vienna several had already taken place, which from
their magnificence yet more increased the expectation of what was to
follow. At one of these I had also assisted. It was a grand serenade in
the Court-Yard of the Burg Palace, and was given either to the Emperor
or to Prince _Schwarzenberg_, I now no longer recollect which. In the
centre of that not very large square, surrounded by lofty buildings a
raised platform was erected for the numerous personnel of the orchestra
and choruses. Upon a balcony opposite the singers, the Court and State
officials were assembled. The remaining space was filled by a numerous
public, to whom free admission had been allowed.

When I saw the locality, and the assembled crowd which had increased
to thousands, I felt alarmed, for I had promised to perform a
violin-concerto, and now feared, that my tones would be unheard, and
lost in the wide surrounding space. But to withdraw now, was no longer
possible, so I resigned myself to my fate. But every thing went off
better than I had expected. Already during the overture I remarked that
the high buildings threw back the sounds right well, and I then came
forward with renewed courage. The very first tones of my solo allayed
all my anxiety that the damp night air would affect my strings, for my
violin sounded clear and powerful as usual. As the public also, during
my play, maintained the most perfect silence, even the finest shades
of my instrumentation were every where distinctly heard. The effect,
therefore, was a very favorable one, and was acknowledged by loud and
long applause. I have never played before a more numerous nor a more
sympathetic public.

Among the many strangers attracted by the Congress were several
artists, who thought the opportunity a most favourable one to give
concerts in Vienna. In this they very much deceived themselves. For
as all the native artists gave concerts, these became so numerous
and close upon each other, that it was impossible for all to be well
attended! One that I and my wife gave on the 11. December was an
exception to this, for it attracted a numerous and brilliant audience.
I gave the overture to “Faust,” and it was received with great
approbation. The reviewer of the Musical-journal says “it increased
our desire to see this opera, which has now been ready a twelvemonth,
brought out at last.” Several lovers of art among the ambassadors
and foreign diplomatists who had heard me play for the first time at
my concert, paid me a visit, and expressed the wish to hear me in a
quartett. This was the cause of my giving several music-parties during
the Congress, and in which I played to those lovers of art the new
compositions I had written for Herr _von Tost_. I still recollect with
great satisfaction the general delight with which those productions
were received. Certainly, I was supported also, upon those occasions by
the first artists in Vienna, so that as regards execution nothing more
could be desired. I generally began with a Quartett, then followed with
a quintett, and concluded with my octett, or nonett.

Others also besides me, gave music parties to the visitors to the
Congress, among these my friend _Zizius_ particularly distinguished
himself. All the foreign artists had been introduced at his house, and
at his music parties therefore, there arose frequently a spirit of
rivalry between the native and foreign virtuosi. I there for the first
time heard _Hummel_ play his beautiful Septett, as well as several
other of his compositions of that period. But I was mostly charmed by
his improvisations in which no other Pianoforte-Virtuoso has ever yet
approached him. I especially remember with great pleasure one evening
when he improvised in so splendid a manner as I never since heard
him whether in public or in private. The company were about to break
up, when some ladies, who thought it too early, entreated _Hummel_
to play a few more walzes for them. Obliging and galant as he was to
the ladies, he seated himself at the piano, and played the wished for
walzes, to which the young folks in the adjoining room began to dance.
I, and some other artists, attracted by his play, grouped ourselves
round the instrument with our hats already in our hands, and listened
attentively. _Hummel_ no sooner observed this, than he converted his
play into a free phantasia of improvisation, but which constantly
preserved the walz-rhythm, so that the dancers were not disturbed. He
then took from me and others who had executed their own compositions
during the evening a few easily combined themes and figures, which he
interwove into his walzes and varied them at every recurrence with a
constantly increasing richness and piquancy of expression. Indeed,
at length, he even made them serve as fuge-themes, and let loose all
his science in counterpoint without disturbing the walzers in their
pleasures. Then he returned to the galant style, and in conclusion
passed into a bravoura, such as from him even has seldom been heard.
In this finale, the themes taken up were still constantly heard, so
that the whole rounded off and terminated in real artistic style. The
hearers were enraptured, and praised the young ladies’ love of dancing,
that had conduced to so rich a feast of artistic excellence.

Among the foreign artists who came to Vienna before and during the
Congress, were also, three of my former acquaintances, _Carl Maria
von Weber_, _Hermstedt_ and _Feska_. _Weber_ played with great
success and then left for Prague, whither he was summoned to direct
the opera. _Hermstedt_ came at a time, when the concerts were so
numerous, that he could not give one of his own. He played, however,
with immense applause at a concert of the flutist _Dressier_, in
which he accompanied the air with clarinet obligato in “Titus”,
accompanied and played a pot-pourri of mine which I wrote for him for
the occasion, after a new composition for harp and violin, that had
particularly pleased _Hermstedt_. Both compositions were afterwards
published; that for the clarinet with quartett-accompaniment as op. 81
at _Schlesinger’s_ in Berlin, and that for harp and violin as op. 118
by _Schuberth_ in Hamburgh.

_Feska_, who since I had known him in Magdeburgh, had become member of
the Westphalian orchestra in Cassel, and now after its dissolution had
been made Concert master at Carlsruhe, had made great progress both as
violinist and composer. His quartetts and quintetts, which he executed
in a pure, accomplished, and tasteful manner, took greatly in Vienna,
and found a ready sale among the publishers there. One of them began in
one of its themes with the notes, which form the composer’s name:

[Music]

This the auditors thought very pretty, and joked the other composers
present, _Hummel_, _Pixis_, and me, on account of our unmusical names.
This suggested the idea to me of making something musical out of my
name, with the assistance of the abbreviation formerly used of the
_piano_ into _po_, and of a quarter rest, which when written looks like
an r. It was in this form:

[Music]

and I immediately took it as a theme for a new violin-quartett, which
is the first of the three quartetts published in Vienna by _Mechetti_
as op. 29 and dedicated to _Andreas Romberg_. When I first played it at
my friend’s _Zizius_, it met with great applause, and the originality
of the theme, with its descending, diminished _Quarte_, was especially
praised. I now called together those who had previously quizzed me
for my unmusical name and _shewed_ them, (for naturally they had not
_heard_ it) the famous thema formed out of my name. They laughed
heartily at my artistic trick, and now quizzed the more both _Hummel_
and _Pixis_, who with all their skill could make nothing musical out of
their names.

       *       *       *       *       *

Meanwhile many things had changed in my position at the theatre and in
respect to its proprietor. I had openly broken with Count _Palffy_.
It was brought about by the following circumstance: One evening, when
I entered the orchestra I saw Herr _Buchwieser_, the father of the
prima donna, and third orchestra director, had taken _Seyfried’s_
seat. I observed to him that I alone was charged with the direction of
the orchestra, when _Seyfried_ was prevented coming, and I therefore
requested him to leave it. This he refused to do, with the remark,
that the Count himself had ordered him to direct the opera, and at
the express wish of his daughter, who preferred singing under his
direction. As all my expostulations were unavailing, and I considered
it beneath my dignity to play the first violin under so obscure a
director, I quitted the orchestra, and returned home. The next morning
I sent in a written remonstrance to the Count respecting this invasion
of right that had been secured to me in my engagement, and requested,
that I might be exposed to no further repetition of it.

The Count, incited by the _Prima Donna_, who was very incensed because
I would not lead under the direction of her father, answered me with
rudeness instead of with the apologies I had reason to expect, and
which I replied to in yet stronger terms. From that moment, the Count
and his creatures studied to annoy me in every possible manner that
my position exposed me to. Added to this, since _Palffy_ had been so
fortunate as to become lessee of the two Court Theatres, he put his
own theatre greatly in the back-ground. He took away from it the best
singers, and the best part of the chorus, to incorporate them with the
personnel of the Kärnthnerthor-Theatre; so that “an der Wien”, from
that time, _Spectacle-pieces_, and low class popular operas alone, were
given. As I was not bound to assist at these, I had scarcely any thing
more to do at the theatre. I could therefore clearly see, that I should
be discharged after the termination of my engagement.

As now, after Napoleon was vanquished and banished to Elba, a general
European peace seemed in perspective, and that I greatly desired to
set out as soon as possible on my long projected artistic tour through
all Europe; I made a proposition to the Count to cancel our agreement
on the expiration of the second year, and demanded as compensation
the half of my salary for the third year, paid down in _one_ sum. He
readily consented to it, and so we parted in peace. I now hastened to
make every preparation in order to be enabled to commence my journey
in the spring. I contemplated first, to travel through Germany and
Switzerland to Italy, whither I had long ardently desired to go. As
I purposed taking my children with me, foreseeing that their mother
would not be able to separate from them for so long a time without
pining to death; I was first of all obliged to provide myself with a
larger travelling carriage to hold us all, with the instruments. The
difficulty was to build one for this purpose, sufficiently light of
draught for three posthorses. I conferred upon this therefore with Herr
_Langhaus_, the clever machinist at the theatre “an der Wien”, and
afterwards director of public buildings in Berlin, who made a drawing
of the design suggested in our conference, according to which the
carriage should be built. It had a solid roof, upon which were packed
the leather covered harp-case, and a trunk for linen. The violin-case
was stowed in a boot under the coachman’s seat, so that the whole space
in the interior of the vehicle remained for the travellers.

In my relations with Herr _von Tost_, also, a serious alteration had
taken place. After the settlement of our earlier account, which was
effected by the delivery of the Cantata “Das befreite Deutschland”
I had delivered again, four manuscripts, the octett, two quartetts
and a second quintett, without receiving the agreed price. At first
I had argued no ill of this delay in settlement. But when it became
suddenly reported in the city, that the wealthy Herr _von Tost_ had
sustained severe losses, and was on the point of bankruptcy; that he
no longer called upon me, and even failed to appear at a musical-party
where I played one of his manuscripts, but sent the portfolio instead
of coming; the matter looked dubious. I therefore took back to him
the portfolio myself, in order if possible, to come to a clear
understanding with him at the same time. I found the otherwise so
jovial man very much depressed in spirits. He confessed to me his
position without reserve. It was, he said, extremely painful to him, to
be unable to fulfil his engagements with me; but as his plans for the
future were unsettled if not quite destroyed, he would forthwith return
all my manuscripts to me before the expiration of the stipulated time,
so that I might sell them as soon as possible to a publisher. For the
loss I might thereby sustain, he was willing to indemnify me with a
bill for one hundred ducats, which as soon as his affairs had assumed a
more favourable aspect, he would honourably meet. Upon this he fetched
the whole of the manuscripts and handed them to me. I, who considered
that Herr _von Tost_ had amply compensated me for the short time he had
them in his possession, by the costly furniture he had bought for me,
and reckoned at so low an estimate, was quite satisfied with the return
of my manuscripts and refused all further indemnification. However, as
I perceived that Herr _von Tost_ felt hurt by this arrangement, I took
the bill, well knowing that from my contemplated departure from Vienna
its early liquidation was not to be thought of.

I now sold the whole of the returned manuscripts to two Vienna
publishers, and from their having acquired a great celebrity by their
frequent performance, I received a considerable sum for them.

At the commencement of the year 1815, I wrote another Quartett, in
C-major (No. 2 of the op. 29) and a new violin Concerto (the seventh,
op. 38) as also Variations, which remained unpublished, for use upon
the coming journey; the two last of these compositions I played at
my farewell-Concert on the 19. February 1815. Respecting this last
concert I gave in Vienna, the Musical journal spoke very favourably.
Of the newest violin concerto (E-minor, C-major, E-major) it says:
“Very difficult for the solo player as well as for those who accompany.
A splendid, perfect composition; a fine flowing cantabile; striking
modulations, replete with bold canonic imitations, an ever new,
charming and happily calculated instrumentation. The melting _adagio_
is especially captivating.” In conclusion it says: “As to the merits
of this masterly artist, both here and throughout Germany there is but
_one_ opinion. We yet remember with lively satisfaction the triumph,
which he achieved two years ago over his rival, the great _Rode_. He is
now about to leave us upon a grand artistic tour. He first proceeds to
Prague, where his new opera “Faust” is now being studied.... May he,
who by his talent and his open, manly character has left an honourable
memorial of his worth in our hearts, meet always, and every where with
success!”

I at that time really had the intention of going first to Prague, to be
present at the production of my opera, which was being studied under
_Carl Maria von Weber_. But I afterwards abandoned that plan. I had in
fact received a letter from my former Intendant Baron _von Reibnitz_
at Breslau, wherein in the name of a family of his acquaintance that
of Prince _von Caroluth_, he asked me if I would feel disposed to pass
the summer months with them at their seat, _Caroluth_, in Silesia? The
Princess was very desirous, that her two daughters, one of whom played
the harp, the other the pianoforte, should receive instruction in
music from my wife. They would endeavour to make the stay of myself and
family at their charming castle as agreable as possible. He, the Baron
had been invited also, and would be extremely pleased if I would accept
the invitation, so that he might again pass some time with me.

As the spring and summer were any way but little favourable seasons
of the year to give concerts, and that _Dorette_ and the children
anticipated much pleasure from the stay at Carolath, I readily
assented. I therefore hastened the preparations for our journey, in
order to avail ourselves of the opportunity to give a few concerts at
Breslau and in its neighbourhood, before the fine season had set in.
The next thing was to effect the sale of our furniture and household
chattels, which was very speedily done, for immediately upon the
announcement of the sale, a host of purchasers presented themselves. As
our furniture was very elegant, and withal nearly new, the purchasers
bid warmly against each other, and we therefore realised a sum far
beyond our expectation. This as well as my Vienna savings, which were
still in paper currency, I now took to a banker’s and changed for
gold. Scarcely had I done this when all Vienna was alarmed by the
intelligence that Napoleon had escaped from Elba, landed in France, and
been hailed with the greatest joy. The rate of exchange fell suddenly
so low, that if I had delayed the conversion of my paper into specie
but _one_ day more, I should have suffered a loss of more than fifty
ducats.

When first contemplating my grand tour through Europe, the idea
struck me, also, of commencing an album, in which I purposed making a
collection of the compositions of all the artists whose acquaintance I
might make. I began immediately with the Viennese, and received from
all the resident composers of my acquaintance, short, autographic works
written for the most part expressly for my album. The most valuable
contribution to me, is that of _Beethoven_. It is a Canon for three
voices to the words from _Schiller’s_ “Jungfrau von Orleans”: “Kurz
ist der Schmerz, und ewig währt die Freude.” It is worthy of remark, in
the first place, that _Beethoven_ whose handwriting, notes as well as
text, were usually almost illegible, must have written this page with
particular patience; for it is unblotted from beginning to end, which
is the more remarkable, since he even drew the lines without the aid of
a ruler; secondly, that after the falling in of the third voice a bar
is wanting, which I was obliged to complete. The pages concluded with
the wish:

May you dear _Spohr_ where ever you find real art, and real artists,
think with pleasure of me, Your friend.

  _Ludwig van Beethoven._

Vienna March 3. 1815.

Upon all my subsequent travels I received contributions to this
album, and possess therefore a highly interesting collection of
short compositions from German, Italian, French, English and Dutch
artists.[15]

[15] A selection from the pages of this album will be found in the
appendix.

       *       *       *       *       *

On the eve of taking leave of Vienna, I yet think I must recall some
further incidents of my stay there, which hitherto I have had no
opportunity of relating. First, in respect of my orchestral duties.
These were sometimes very onerous for me; the same piece being
frequently represented twenty or thirty nights in succession. This
happened not only with two of _Mozart’s_ operas “Don Juan” and the
“Zauberflöte”, which during my engagement were brought out with a new
distribution of characters and with a very brilliant _mise en scene_;
but, also, with a ballet, which during the Congress was repeated an
innumerable number of times, and in which I had to play violin soli’s.
What its name was, I no longer recollect, but that the celebrated
dancers _Duport_, and mesdames _Bigottini_ and _Petit Aimée_, whom
Count _Palffy_ had sent for from Paris, danced in it. It is true, I
did not play those soli’s unwillingly, upon their own account, for
the audience always listened with the greatest attention, and were
profuse in their applause of me; but it annoyed me that I was obliged
to measure my _tempi_, by the steps of the dancers and that I could
not lengthen at pleasure my closes and cadences, as the dancers were
unable to sustain themselves so long in their groupings. This gave
rise therefore to many bickerings with the ballet master, until at
length I learned compliance. I endeavoured to sweeten the monotony of
my duties in some degree by always enriching and ornamenting my soli
performances. This I did especially with the troubadour in “John of
Paris” for whom a _pas de trois_ was introduced in that ballet. As in
the opera of that name, there were three strophes, the first of which
had to be executed by the horn, the second by the violincello, and
the third by the violin, I at first ornamented my strophe in a very
vocal style. But as I remarked, that the _Prima Donna_, demoiselle
_Buchwieser_ at the next representation had borne them well in mind,
sang them, and obtained great applause for them, this so annoyed me, as
I could not bear the singer, that I thenceforth ornamented them in a
style she could not imitate with her voice.

Besides the two above mentioned operas of _Mozart_, I experienced a
third ordeal in a new popular-opera, with music by _Hummel_, which
by a singular chance such as will assuredly never occur again, went
through a long succession of nightly representations. It was called
“Princess Eselshaut” and as far as the author’s text, was so wretched
a piece of patchwork, that in spite of the pretty music of which five
or six of the Numbers were received with great applause, it was at the
conclusion unanimously hissed. This according to Vienna custom at once
consigned it to the tomb. _Hummel_ who conducted, had, already, quite
resignedly expressed himself to me, who in honour of him led as first
violin. “Another pure labour in vain!” But on the following evening
when another piece was to have been announced, it could not be given,
owing to the illness of several of the performers in the opera and
play, and the manager was therefore obliged to repeat the condemned
opera though at the risk of exciting an uproar in the theatre. On that
evening nevertheless, just on account of the anticipated tumult, the
theatre was crammed to excess, and the piece was hissed at the end of
each act, and again at the conclusion. But the musical pieces met with
more applause than on the first night, and at the fall of the curtain
when the hissing had ceased, the composer was even called for, and
greeted with vehement applause. As the indisposition of the invalids
still continued, a third trial of it was obliged to be made, which went
off nearly like the former one. Yet was the opposition against the
piece much less, and the music obtained more friends than ever. Thus
it could be continued with confidence, and on the succeeding nights it
again found new friends in sufficient number. At length it became the
fashion to go and hiss the piece, and praise the music. _Hummel_ took
speedy advantage of this, and published a piano-forte arrangement of
the most favorite Numbers, which had a rapid sale. So it was no “labour
in vain” after all, as he had feared on the first evening!

_Pixis_, was not so fortunate with his opera, the “Zauberspruch”. That
was swamped by the badness of the libretto, nor could the music keep it
above water, although it had, also, many successful “numbers.” It was
the occasion for the display of a bit of real Viennese wit. A friend of
the composer, not having been able to see the first representation of
it, enquired of another who had been present “Well what do you think of
the opera of _Pixis_?”--“Nix is!” was the reply.

I may here relate another of my Vienna recollections, since it is one
of those which make a deep impression and therefore do not so easily
fade from the memory. It was an unusually great inundation, such as
occurs once only in every century, occasioned by the overflowing of the
little river “die Wien” on the banks of which my house was situated.
On that occasion it was so great from the simultaneous overflowing of
the Danube, which would not allow the waters of the “Wien” an outlet. I
had not observed the commencement of the inundation, being engaged at a
rehearsal at the theatre. After it was over, I found the street leading
to my house already flooded, and I saw that I must use all haste to be
enabled even to wade through it.

Nevertheless I first fetched my violin-case out of the orchestra, as
I foresaw that, also, would be laid under water. By this time the
flood had risen so high that in some places the water reached above my
knees. I found my family in the greatest consternation and the other
inmates of the house still more so. My landlord, the cabinet-maker,
with his family, were already hurrying up past my floor to the top of
the house, and endeavouring to secure a dry stowage for their effects,
in the loft. He had need to hasten; for the water rose so fast, that
in a few hours it almost reached to the first floor. The terrified
inhabitants of the suburb had now a scene before them such as they
had never before beheld. The rushing waters swept by, bearing along
with them articles of every description commingled in the strangest
confusion. Implements of husbandry, carts laden with hay or wood, the
wreck of stalls and stabling, dead cattle, and even a cradle containing
a screaming infant, which, however, was happily rescued by a boat.
The owners of the houses, furnished with long poles, were exerting
themselves to keep off the objects as they floated by, so that they
might not damage the walls of the houses, others on the other hand
provided with boat hooks, endeavoured to lay hold of the furniture
and other household chattels in order to save them, and pull them up
into the windows for security. Some hours afterwards, when such like
articles had ceased to float past, boats made their appearance laden
with provisions, which were readily bought up by the inhabitants of
the flooded streets. Other boats towards evening brought the employés
and men of business from the city to their dwellings, and anxiously
expecting families. As the rain also poured down in torrents, the
inundation still continued at the same height, and even at night fall
there was no perceptible decrease of the waters. So long as it remained
light, the scene afforded great diversity of interest, but when night
came it was fearful to behold. The roar of the waters, and the howling
of the storm forbade all thought of repose; nor was it advisable to
retire to rest, as no one knew what might yet occur. I therefore
laid my children near me on my sofa with their clothes on, and as
_Dorette_ had soon fallen asleep beside them, I sat down to my work,
a new song-composition, in order to resist sleep more effectually. In
this I succeeded. But my zeal at composition led me several times to
the piano, which the family of my landlord who passed half the night
in the floor above me upon their knees in prayer, took in very great
dudgeon; for on the following morning the nurse-maid informed me, that
the wife had bitterly exclaimed: “That Lutheran heretic will bring yet
greater misfortune upon us with his unchristian singing and playing.”
But the night passed without further misfortune, and by day-break the
water had greatly decreased. Nevertheless, it was evening before it had
sufficiently subsided to admit of again traversing the streets on foot.
But the “Theatre an der Wien” remained closed for eight days, for it
required that time before all traces of the inundation could be removed.

       *       *       *       *       *

After a sorrowful parting from dear Vienna, where we had passed so many
happy days, I set out with my family upon our great journey on the 18.
March, 1815. My brother _Ferdinand_ whose engagement at the “Theatre an
der Wien” was to last for another year, remained alone behind. After
its expiration, he obtained an appointment in the Royal Orchestra of
Berlin.

Our first resting place was at Brünn, where we gave a concert. How it
succeeded, I no longer remember, but I well recollect, that I was very
dissatisfied with the orchestral-accompaniment. In respect to that, of
course my excellent orchestra in Vienna had accustomed me to a very
different style of performance.

From Brünn we went to Breslau, where in April we also gave two
concerts; but they were not well attended. The unsettled state of
the public mind arising from the recommencement of hostilities and
from the great sacrifices entailed upon each individual by the
contributions required of them, was in truth then so general, that a
more unfavourable time to give concerts could not well have presented
itself. But in so musical a city as Breslau, even in that period of
warlike commotion, there was no dearth of zealous musical amateurs, to
whom music was a necessary of life. I was therefore frequently invited
to private circles, in which I had an opportunity to perform my Vienna
compositions of Herr _von Tost’s_ portfolio. They met with a brilliant
reception, particularly the two Quintetts, which I was frequently
obliged to repeat. At the earnest wish of my friend _Schnabel_,
director of the Cathedral-orchestra, I wrote an Offertorium for a
Solo-soprano voice and chorus, with violin obligato and orchestra,
which, as is shewn by the catalogue of my compositions was performed
in the Cathedral on 16. April, and where I took the violin-part. As I
left behind me there the original score, and have never seen it since
that time, I am unable to say whether the composition has any merit.
Probably it is still to be found in the library of the cathedral.

       *       *       *       *       *

On a fine evening in the spring, I arrived with my family at Carolath.
As we had to pass over a small river near the castle, in a ferry-boat,
our arrival was perceived before hand. We therefore found upon driving
into the Castle-court, the whole of the Prince’s family assembled at
the foot of the steps, and were welcomed by them in the most friendly
manner. The prince himself led us to the apartments assigned to us.
After we had changed our dress we were summoned to the supper-table.
The Prince, a somewhat ceremonious but friendly and well meaning man
from fifty eight to sixty years of age received us at the entrance of
the dining-room, and introduced us to the other guests. They consisted
of the Princess his second wife, her sister, a lady passionately fond
of poetry and music, his two daughters by his first marriage, amiable
maidens of fifteen and seventeen years of age, and their tutor, Herr
_Kartscher_, a young man of polished manners. The conversation at table
was with the exception of the somewhat antiquated formality of the
Prince, both free from restraint and lively, and convinced me that I
was in a high bred circle having a sympathy for all that was beautiful.
_Dorette_ was also very pleased with the conversation of her neighbours
the Prince and his sister-in-law, and the children in whom the young
ladies had interested themselves in the most friendly manner, were
also extremely happy. Our whole family looked forward therefore to a
pleasant residence at the castle.

On the following day, the regulations were forthwith adopted for
the subjects and hours of study, which with few exceptions remained
unchanged during the whole time of our stay. In the forenoon, while
_Dorette_ gave instruction to the Princesses, the eldest on the harp,
the youngest on the piano, I also gave the first music lessons to
my children. Afterwards they were permitted to participate in the
lessons given to the Princesses by their tutor, and he was so good as
to adapt his instruction as much as possible to the capacities of the
children. Meanwhile, my wife and I occupied ourselves with our own
musical-studies, or I composed. As the members of the Prince’s family
were very fond of singing, this was inducement sufficient to me to
write two small books of songs, the text of which was furnished by the
sister of the Princess from her large collection of poetical pieces.
Among these were also some poems of Herr _Kartscher_. Both volumes were
published by _Peters_ of Leipsic as op. 37, and 41. When the studies
of the forenoon were terminated, a careful toilette was made by all,
to appear at the dinner-table, as it was always the custom with the
Prince’s family to dine _en parure_, or full dress. The remainder of
the day was devoted to social intercourse and amusements. When the
weather was fine, coffee was served in the castle garden, and towards
evening an excursion-drive was made into the neighbouring environs.
A farm belonging to the Prince was a frequent object of our visit,
and either there or in the woods around it we frequently partook of a
rustic supper. At other times when the weather was overcast, or that
visitors came from neighbouring parts, we had music in the evening.
As soon, however, as Herr _von Reibnitz_ arrived as guest at the
Castle, an attempt at Quartett music was made. The old valet of the
Prince who in his younger days had played the violincello, was then
summoned to produce his instrument, the schoolmaster of the village his
viol, and Herr _von Reibnitz_ took the second violin. Unfortunately
I had no other Quartetts with me, than my own, which were certainly
never written for _such_ performers. The first attempt therefore was
very discouraging. But as the others evinced much zeal, I was not
wanting in patience and endurance; and by dint of several rehearsals
I succeeded so far as to enable me to let the company hear two of my
quartetts. They were not so well accustomed to enjoyments in art as
not to receive their performance with great approbation. A polonaise
also, which I then wrote (op. 40, published by _Peters_) pleased
greatly, and soon became a frequently requested and favorite piece
with the company, perhaps, merely, because they had seen it composed.
After I and my family had passed the first two months of our residence
in Carolath in this sufficiently pleasant though somewhat uniform
manner, the Prince announced one day at dinner with some solemnity,
that he would be obliged to leave his dear guests for one day, as it
was his custom every year on the 24. June to proceed to Glogau, to
be present at the Freemason’s festival of St. John. This induced me
upon rising from table to make myself known to him as a brother Mason,
which so agreably surprised the Prince that he immediately invited
me to accompany him on the journey. I have forgotten to relate that I
had already become a freemason in Gotha, had there received after the
expiration of a year the second degree of the order, and a year later
on a journey to Berlin, the third, of master-mason. But as in Austria,
freemasonry was prohibited, and that for two years and a half I had
frequented no lodge, I longed to assist once more at a meeting of the
brothers. The Prince’s invitation to accompany him to Glogau came
therefore very opportunely. Grand preparations were forthwith made.
The great travelling carriage emblazoned with the Prince’s armorial
bearings was drawn out of the coach-house, and cleansed from dust; a
Jäger, and another servant had squeezed himself into the state livery,
and the Prince himself made his appearance for the first time in
state-uniform, with his star upon his breast. We set out early on the
morning of the 24. Arrived at the lodge, the Prince was received and
welcomed by a deputation, and his guest, also, after having testified
his prerogative, was greeted as a brother in the most friendly manner.
After the meeting of the work-lodge, a splendid dinner-lodge followed,
in which I joined the musical brethren, directed their singing, and
myself, sang with my powerful bass voice some mason’s songs and the
“Heiligen Hallen” from the “Zauberflöte.” Among the musical brothers I
found several acquaintances of my earlier travels through Silesia, who
eagerly sought to honour me with their attentions.

The chairman, also, welcomed the “renowned craftsman” to the circle
of brothers, and thanked the Prince for having introduced him. The
Prince seemed greatly pleased to find the honours paid to his guest,
redound to his own, for on his return to Carolath he redoubled his
already great attentions towards me and my family, so that we were even
frequently embarrassed by them.

After a further highly agreable stay of from six to eight weeks, we
resumed our journey through Dresden and Leipzic to Gotha. Returned
thither after an absence of nearly three years from her home, _Dorette_
felt so happy, that I could not think of leaving it for some time. I
therefore settled down quietly for a few months, and only made a few
short excursions in the neighbourhood. The first was to my parents at
Gandersheim, where my father had in the meanwhile been transferred as
District-Physician, and from thence to Hanover, where I gave a concert.
The second was to Frankenhausen, where _Bischoff_ got up another
musical festival.

Here begins one of my diaries which I continued without any break off
up to my return from Italy. The title is “Passing Remarks, during a
Musical-tour” and the work begins:

  _Frankenhausen_, Oct. 19. 1815.

...... “In Hanover we made the interesting acquaintance of the
_Violinist_, and the highly uninteresting one of the _Man,
Kiesewetter_. As violinist he is distinguished for a powerful very
pure, and even feeling style of play, without however as it seems to
me, a true feeling for the beauties of art; as a man, he is the most
inflated wind-bag, that I ever met! He conducted in our concert on the
11. October, but without certainty and foresight.

“After a pause of three years, the musicians of Thuringia have again
assembled here, for the purpose of celebrating after the speedily
terminated war, the now complete emancipation of Germany, upon the
anniversary of the Leipsic “Battle of the Nations”, in a manner worthy
of the musical science. This day, the first of the musical festival,
the performance of my Cantata “Das befreite Deutschland” and the “Te
Deum” of Gottfried _Weber_, took place. As it would not beseem me as
composer to express an opinion of my own work, we will here alone
speak of its performance. The solo-parts were throughout not well
distributed, for which reason the arias and _ensemble_ parts produced
the least effects. But the chorus and the orchestra were excellent,
and therefore the overture and collective choruses produced a great
sensation. The double chorus of the flying French and that of the
pursuing Russians followed by the Prayer of thanks of the German
peoples, and the concluding chorus with the fuge, pleased the most.
I again experienced that in a spacious locality, and with a numerous
orchestra and chorus, the most simple subjects when written in a worthy
and noble style produce the greatest effects; that on the other hand,
a richness of figures in the instrumentation, and a rapidly changing
sequence of harmony are, there, by no means in their proper place.
The _Te Deum_ of _Gottfried Weber_ which had been greatly extolled in
favourable reviews of it in the public journals, did not quite fulfil
my expectations. It betrays too much that, it was not the production
of a moment of inspiration, but rather of cold speculation. The very
commencement is a straining after effect, and as introduction to a _Te
Deum_, certainly very unsuited. To what purpose the long roll of the
kettle-drums that sounds like a passing peal of thunder? And then,
above all, the ensuing flourish of four trumpets and sackbuts, like
that with which cavalry draws up on parade?”

  October, 20.

“On the second day, a miscellaneous Concert took place in the following
order: A Symphony of _Mozart_ (C-Major) executed with spirit and
precision, its effect was ravishing! To-day I became convinced that in
a spacious _locale_, and with a powerfully appointed orchestra, the
four themes of the concluding fuge, at the part where they combine to
form the finale, can be right well understood by a practised ear. If,
hitherto, this part appeared to me more scientific than effective, I
was this day convinced of my error. 2^{dly} a violin-Concerto (E-Minor)
my own. To-day, I again became convinced, that, the masses are far
more taken with the skilful and brilliant execution of the virtuoso,
than by the merit of the composition. All were delighted with my play,
and but few adverted as well to the composition. 3^{dly} an Italian
air with chorus, by _Paer_, sung by Herr _Strohmeyer_. This aria from
an Oratorio called “_La Religione_” is written in so unecclesiastical
a style, that with a change of the text it might be converted into a
right good _Opera buffa_. During the time that the impersonation of
Religion (who certainly might with much more propriety, sing soprano,
instead of bass) executes the most common place operatic melodies,
shakes and throat-tearing bounds, the chorus screams now and then
_unisono_, and _fortissime_, _Santa! Santa!_ between; just as a
robber-band would call out to travellers the “Stand! your money or your
life!” As this aria gave Herr _Strohmeyer_ an opportunity to display
his fine and powerful voice as well as his skill in its management, it
was received with great applause. 4^{thly} an _Adagio_ and Potpourri
of mine for the clarinet, played by Herr _Hermstedt_, likewise very
favorably received. Yet I found, and several other musicians were
of the same opinion, that, though _Hermstedt_ constantly made more
progress in the technics of his instrument, he did not devellope his
taste in the same degree. His execution has somewhat of a mannerism
that borders on caricature. 5^{thly} a patriotic song on the melody
of “God save the king” with orchestral and organ accompaniment by
_Methfessel_. The public to whom the words had been distributed, joined
in.”

Poor _Bischoff_ did not find his account in this third Frankenhausen
musical festival. The reason of the deficit in the receipts was
doubtless the quartering of Russian troops in the neighbourhood, which
kept both the town and country residents from attending the festival.
As _Bischoff_ was not in a position to cover this deficit from his own
means, the musicians who had assisted, agreed, upon my proposition, to
defray their own expenses of the journey both ways, and to collect the
necessary sum by a concert to be given on their return home. To that
effect I also gave one at Gotha on the 28. October, in which _Andreas
Romberg_ who since two years had been director of concerts there,
supported me in the most friendly manner.

  _Gotha_, October, 29.

My intercourse with _Andreas Romberg_, the educated and reflective
artiste, afforded me again many hours of rich enjoyment. But I again
found that he performs his compositions in an indiscribably cold
and dry manner, as though he himself did not feel the beauties they
contain! He played several of his Quartetts, which I had long admired,
because I had frequently heard them played by others, and have myself
played them; but the soul which they so plainly bespeak, and which
every violinist by whom I have heard them played till now has rightly
seized, seems to have remained unknown to him, for in his execution of
them, no trace of it was to be discovered! It struck me as remarkable,
also, that his predeliction leaned more especially to those which
seemed to me the weakest. But I was yet more astonished that he often
takes his tempi, according to my feeling, false, and thereby frequently
spoils their effect; for I almost invariably found the Allegro’s too
slow, and the Adagio’s too fast.

  _Meiningen_, October, 31.

We gave a concert here to-day, at which the Dutchess and the whole
Court were present. Herr _Wassermann_, one of the cleverest of my
former pupils, played my Concertante with me.

  _Wurzburg_, Nov., 10.

I made here the acquaintance of two known artistes, that of Herr
_Fröhlich_, and of _Witt_. The former, Professor at the University,
lectures on æsthetics and is in many respects a highly talented artist,
as well as a zealous contributor to the Musical journal. As a critic
he appears tolerably conscientious, but I remarked, that he also, like
many other reviewers, writes opinions upon works without having the
score before him. He that knows how difficult it is even with the aid
of the score, to acquire a knowledge of a work from merely reading
it, must be greatly astonished that these gentlemen will commit such
an oversight, and merely place the separate voices side by side, and
alternately cast their eyes on each. In a work of many voices, the
perusal of the score is not alone sufficient, to enable a correct
judgement to be pronounced; it is necessary also to have heard it, and
well performed too!.....

_Witt_ is Concert-master of the formerly grand-ducal Court-orchestra,
which as well as the _personnel_ of the singers of the Castle-church,
after the acquisition of the grand-duchy by Bavaria are still continued
in pay as formerly, and have remained up till now at their full
complement. It is kept in good play-practice, and accompanied me
to my full satisfaction in the concert we gave on the 7. November.
I experienced much pleasure also from the performance of one of
_Haydn’s_ masses in the Castle-church, which was excellently executed
under _Witt’s_ direction. Herr _Witt_ let me hear on the piano, his
oratorio, “Die vier Menschenalter” (“The four ages of man”). As he
played badly, and if possible sung still worse, it would be premature
in me, from what I heard and read after him of the score, to give an
opinion of the effect the work would produce when performed. Yet it
seemed to me somewhat common-place, and here and there, almost trivial.
Nevertheless, the fuges and some other “Numbers” written in the severe
style showed great skill in counterpoint.

  _Nürnberg_, Nov., 16.

Music appears very little cultivated in the ancient Imperial city, for
the orchestra here is remarkably bad. At our concert yesterday, there
was it is true both a numerous audience and no want of applause of our
performance, but every thing accompanied by the orchestra was totally
spoiled by it.

To render my diary complete, I must here add that, in Nürnberg, young
_Molique_, then about fourteen years of age introduced himself to me,
and requested me to give him instruction in music during my stay in
Nürnberg; this I readily assented to, for the lad already then gave
evidence of very uncommon talent for his years. As _Molique_, since
that time, by an assiduous study of my violin-compositions formed
himself more and more upon my model in style of play, and therefore
called himself _Spohr’s_ pupil. I have mentioned this circumstance in a
supplementary manner.

  _Munich_, Dec., 12. 1815.

Our stay here afforded us much artistic enjoyment. Already on the
day after our arrival we were present at an interesting concert, the
first of the twelve winter-concerts given every year by the royal
orchestra upon their own account. These concerts are very numerously
attended, and merit it in a high degree. The orchestra consists
of the simple harmony, twelve first, twelve second-violins, eight
viols, ten violincelli and six double-basses. The violins and basses
are excellent, and the wind instruments, also, up to the horns. At
every concert, a _whole_ Symphony is performed; (which is the more
praiseworthy, from its becoming unfortunately daily more rare, and that
the public for that reason are losing more and more the taste for that
noble kind of instrumental-music); then an overture, two vocal, and two
concert pieces. As the Court-orchestra of Munich still maintains its
ancient repute as one of the first in the world, my expectation was
greatly on the stretch; yet was it far exceeded by the execution of
_Beethoven’s_ Symphony in C-Minor, with which this first concert was
opened. It is scarcely possible, that it could have been performed with
more spirit, more power, and at the same time with greater delicacy,
as also, throughout, with a closer observance of all the shades of
forte and piano! It produced therefore a greater effect, also, than I
had beleived it capable of, although I had already frequently heard
it, and even under the direction of the composer himself in Vienna.
Nevertheless, I found no reason to retract my former opinion respecting
it. Though with many individual beauties, yet it does not constitute
a classical whole. For instance, the introductory theme of the very
first passage is wanting in that dignity which according to my feeling
the commencement of a Symphony should of a necessity possess. Setting
this aside, the short and easily comprehended theme, certainly permits
of being carried out very thematically, and is combined also by the
composer with the other principal ideas of the first subject in an
ingenious and effective manner. The _Adagio_ in _as_ is in part very
fine, yet the same passages and modulations repeat themselves much
too frequently, and although always with richer ornamentation, become
in the end wearisome. The _Scherzo_, is highly original, and of real
romantic colouring, but the _Trio_ with the noisy running bass is to my
taste much too rough. The concluding passage with its unmeaning noise,
is the least satisfactory; nevertheless the return to the _Scherzo_ at
this part is so happy an idea, that the composer may be envied for it.
Its effect is most captivating! But what a pity that this impression is
so soon obliterated by the returning noise!

In this first concert we heard also Herr _Rovelli_, a young and but
recently engaged violinist, in a Concerto in C-Minor by _Lafond_ which
is excellent, and was executed to the satisfaction of all. This young
artist, a pupil of _Kreutzer_, combines with the chief excellencies of
the Parisian school that which is usually wanting with pupils, viz,
feeling and peculiar taste. The chief points of excellence in that
school consist in a careful study and development of the Technics of
the instrument, in which, however, the real cultivation of art is
very frequently neglected. This, nevertheless, is not the case with
Herr _Rovelli_; for he reads well from the sheet, and knows how to
accompany, as I afterwards had an opportunity of proving when playing
my quartetts.

Madame _Bamberger_ from Würzburg, of whose fine second-tenor voice and
good school, I had there already heard spoken of in such praise, sang
in the concert, but appeared nervous, which was probably the reason why
she took breath so frequently, and rendered the tones so imperfectly.

In the second subscription-concert, we heard Herr _Flad_, who performed
an hautboy-concerto in a very brilliant manner. He has a very fine
tone, and a very tasteful execution. Herr _Legrand_, on the other hand,
who played _Romberg’s_ violincello-concerto in E-Minor, seems to me to
be already going down hill, for his play is wanting both in power of
endurance, and in sure, and pure intonation. An overture from the Romeo
and Juliet by _Steibelt_, does not reach beyond common-place.

In the third subscription-concert, my Symphony in E-Major was
exceedingly well performed under the spirited yet circumspect direction
of Herr Concertmaster _Maralt_, and made more effect here than in
Frankenhausen, where I had heard it for the first time four years ago.
Herr _Franzl_ director of music, played his old violin-concerto in
C-Major with Turkish-music. Its composition is in the namby-pamby taste
of _Pleyel’s_ time, and will never suit the taste of the present day.
His play is just as antiquated, and retains of its former excellence
nothing but its vigour, but which now carries him frequently away into
an indistinctness and want of purity in intonation. Although this
was the case to-day, also, yet he was applauded like mad. This might
have impressed a stranger with an unfavourable opinion of the taste
of the people of Munich, had it not been evident, how well a small
party of his personal friends knew to carry away the public by an
uproarious clapping of hands, and a vigorous shouting of bravo. Though
it certainly may be conceded to an artist who excelled in former times,
that he should still meet with applause in later years, yet this may
readily mislead him to overstep the period when he should cease to
appear in public.

In the fourth subscription-concert, I played with Herr _Rovelli_,
my Concertante, in satisfaction of the expectation that every
foreign artist who desires to be supported in his own concerts
by the royal orchestra, is in duty bound to play in one of the
subscription-concerts. I never heard my Concertante to better
advantage. Herr _Rovelli_ had practised his part with the greatest
attention and played in a masterly manner. The accompaniment was
equally good. The _Adagio_ with the three violincelli-obligati had a
particularly fine effect.

_Vogler’s_ celebrated overture to “Castor and Pollux” did not come up
with my expectations. It begins in a spirited and powerful manner it
is true, but becomes lame towards the end, and the commencement itself
derives its effect only from the noise of the brass instruments.

On the third of December, we played before the Queen in her private
apartments, where besides herself and the King, a few only of the élite
of the Court were present. Both Sovereigns appeared to take great
interest in our play, for they loaded us with civilities. Besides
ourselves, Madame _Dulcken_, a distinguished artiste played also, with
her daughter and pupil, a _Rondeau_ by _Steibelt_ for two piano-forti.

On the sixth, our public concert took place in the Redouten-saloon,
which the Queen also honoured with her presence, a mark of distinction,
that for many years had been shewn to no foreign artists. I derived a
great satisfaction from hearing my compositions again performed with so
much brilliancy.

In the Museum, I found the Musical-journal, and therein a notice of the
last musical-festival at Frankenhausen, which also contains an opinion
upon my Cantata: “The emancipation of Germany.” The writer adduced so
many shallow and false objections to that work, that I was greatly
inclined to reply to it, had I not come to the resolution since my
paper-war with _Mosel_, never again to write an anti-criticism.

  _Würzburg_, Dec., 26.

On our journey thither from Munich, we have given in ten days, in four
different towns, four flying concerts, that we had previously made
arrangements for, which were numerously attended, and returned a rich
harvest; viz, on the 16. in Nuremberg, on the 18. in Erlangen, on the
22. in Bamberg, and yesterday, the first day after Christmasday, here.
It was nevertheless an arduous exertion, particularly for _Dorette_;
the continual packing up and unpacking, rehearsing and concert-giving!
We will now give ourselves a little rest.--The day before yesterday, I
let Herr Professor _Fröhlich_ hear my two Vienna Quartetts, dedicated
to _Romberg_, chiefly with the view that he might notice them in the
musical-journal. They went off well, and therefore did not fail to
make a favourable impression upon the hearers.

  _Frankfurt on the Mayne_, January, 14. 1816.

Our stay here was but very poor in art-enjoyments. During the whole
time, not a single concert besides our own, not one musical party!
While eight years ago, on our first coming here we scarcely could find
time to satisfy all the invitations to musical-soireés, now, not one of
the Frankfurt musical amateurs (if indeed there are any left) takes it
into his head to make a single demand upon our talents.

Even the theatre offered nothing very attractive, and only one, (for
us new) opera, viz, “Carlo Fioras” by _Fränzl_, was performed.--Madame
_Graff_ in this opera, and as the countess, in the “Marriage of Figaro”
proved herself a singer of an excellent school, gifted with feeling and
taste. The remaining _personnel_ of vocalists is of no importance, but
the orchestra excellent, and worthy of its ancient repute.

On the twelfth, we gave a concert at the Red-House. Madame _Graff_ sang
brilliantly the grand scena from “Faust.” The orchestra accompanied
with predeliction, and the greatest precision.

We passed a day rich in music at the house of _André_, in Offenbach. I
found him mounted upon a new hobby, which he rode with yet greater self
satisfaction than his former ones. It was called “declamation!” He is
firmly convinced, and affirms it also with honest openheartedness, that
with the exception of himself, no composer, from _Mozart_ to _Bornhard_
has understood how to declaim a song properly, and to set it to music
as it ought to be. He has therefore taken compassion of that neglected
art-orphan, and written a number of pattern-songs! He had heard of
my new songs and urged me to sing them. But already at the second,
he found a reason to return to his own. Fräulein _von Goldner_ his
pupil, sang them, and really in a most charming manner. It is not to be
denied, that she declaims correctly, and has given a reading to several
of them both new and interesting in its kind. When executed besides in
so masterly a manner as they are by Fräulein _von Goldner_, the effect
is certainly very great. I readily admitted this, but did not conceal
from him at the same time what I thought objectionable therein: which
is principally, that he has frequently sacrificed both form, rhythm,
and melody to the right declamation. In order to avoid the fault of
many song-composers, who restrict themselves too stringently to the
rhythm of the poem, he has fallen into the opposite extreme. In order
to give every syllable its proper duration and accent, he frequently
changes the time in many of these songs, and thereby destroys the
rhythm as well as the melody. Thus, the hearer cannot follow, and feels
dissatisfied. I had further to object, that, the piano accompaniment to
most of these songs is too much obligato, and distracts the attention
from the song. Some sound like independant piano-fantasia’s, to which
the song has been adapted. The selfsatisfaction with which _André_ gave
us these songs to hear, was quite unbearable. For instance, he took
an old song of _Schulze_: “O selig, wer liebt” sang it burlesqued to
make it appear ridiculous, and then requested Fraulein _von Goldner_ to
execute his own on the same text. “Aha!” said every one of the company,
“You shew us the shadow first, that the light may have the greater
effect afterwards!” This ill treatment of an old meritorious composer
annoyed me so much, that I could not refrain from saying:

“Dear _André_, you seem to forget, that it does not redound to the
credit of your song, that it should require a piece of buffoonery to
introduce it; that this song of _Schulze_ was composed upwards of
five and twenty years ago, when the notions of song-composition were
very different from what they now are; that the melody, which appears
antiquated to us, was new at that time, and that you in the end have
made no happy selection for your purpose, since this song with all its
simplicity of form and melody is nevertheless correctly declaimed,
and in the repetition of the: “O selig, wer liebt” at the end of
every strophe, has some depth of feeling in it, whereas it is very
problematical whether our songs will impart so much pleasure after a
lapse of five and twenty years, as this song is still capable of doing
when it is _well_ sung.”

_André_ seemed somewhat ashamed, and from that moment evinced much more
discretion. I was now desirous to gratify his wish to hear some of my
Vienna Quartetts and Quintetts; but the accompaniment was so bad, that
I soon relinquished it, and gave no more than the first.

After dinner, Herr _Aloys Schmitt_ gave us a Fantasia upon the piano “A
sea voyage with a storm”. Although this trivial style of thing first
introduced by _Wölffl_, was not bad, yet from so clever a virtuoso on
the piano I should have expected to hear something more refined and
solid.

In the evening, _André_ took us to Herr _Ewald_, a great lover of
music, at whose house the Offenbach Singing-academy had assembled to
let him hear three compositions which they had practised with great
care. It was called “Die drei Worte” (The three Words) of _Schiller_,
set to music by _Aloys Schmitt_, a patriotic chorus by _André_, and
“Die Bürgschaft” (The pledge) by _Schiller_, also composed by _Aloys
Schmitt_, all with piano-forte accompaniment. The chorus numbered about
forty eight voices, and the performance succeeded well. The only regret
was, that the locality was not more spacious. The music to the “Drei
Worte” pleased me very much. It evinced a great talent for that kind
of lyrical composition. The poem is also right well adapted to it. The
second; “Die Bürgschaft” is less so. In this, the composer distributes
the persons represented as speaking, among the several solo-voices;
but it sounds very strange to hear these sing what the poet relates.
The chorus has its share in the text distributed in the same arbitrary
manner. It is nevertheless not to be denied, that several of their
_entreés_ have an extraordinary effect, as for instance, where it says:
“Und unendlicher Regen giesset herab”. “And neverceasing rain pours
down”, and later, where the exhausted wanderer hears the murmering
of a spring of water. The whole poem throughout is conceived and
rendered with much fancy, yet the music suffers from a want of form
through the frequent change of the tempi and measure. The repetition
of _single_ words which of themselves express no meaning is very much
to be reprehended, and sometimes sounds truly comical. The four handed
piano-forte-accompaniment is so rich in ornamentation, passages and
modulations, that with very little modification it would not require to
be rewritten for the orchestra. _André’s_ chorus was not distinguished
by any thing remarkable. At the conclusion, Herr _Hasemann_ of the
Frankfurt orchestra, who as violincellist accompanied me in my Quartett
in the morning much better than any of the others, astonished us with
his skill on the bass-sackbut! He played variations on the well known
song: “Mich fliehen alle Freuden” (All pleasures depart from me). But
it makes an unpleasant impression upon a hearer of taste, when an
instrument is constrained to produce what is neither natural to, nor
consistant with its character.

  _Darmstadt_, 9. Febr.

Constrained to nearly a month’s stay by the illness of my good
_Dorette_, I have had ample time to inform myself on the state of
music here. Little satisfactory can be said of it. The Grand-Duke is
certainly very fond of music, and spends considerable sums of money
upon it; but this love of it is one sided, egotistical, and is limited
solely to Theatrical music. He takes a pleasure for instance in
enacting the Director of music, and Manager, in the Opera-rehearsals;
he therefore not only directs the orchestra from a desk in the
theatre, but directs also every thing upon the stage. As he considers
himself incapable of error in both capacities, nor will allow either
the director of the orchestra, or the stage manager to gainsay his
regulations in the least, as a matter of course many mistakes occur.
For, although of all Grand-Dukes he may be the best director of an
opera, that does not make him _a good one_! He clearly proves this
in his selection of the works which he allows to be performed in
his theatre. As he has so liberally endowed the theatre that the
management has no need to study the taste of the public for the sake of
the receipts, they might therefore procure a Repertoire of really good
and meritorious works, if he would only allow them the choice. But this
he reserves to himself, and therefore not only much of what is given
is of mediocrity merely, but many excellent works are wholly excluded,
such as the operas of _Cherubini_, because the Grand-Duke cannot bear
them. He may by chance let “Den Wasserträger,” (the Watercarrier) pass,
but only the first act of it. Neither do the operas of _Mozart_ seem to
please him any better; for when a few days ago the turn came again for
“Don Juan”, after nothing else had been given for thirty consecutive
nights but _Poissl’s_ “Athalia”, and that the orchestra relieved from
the distressing wearisomeness with which that opera had overcome them,
executed the first finale with great spirit, the Grand-Duke turning to
the director of the orchestra, said: “After _Poissl’s_ opera there’s no
relishing “Don Juan!”

Considering the large salaries paid by the Grand-Duke, the _personnel_
of solo-singers might be a much better one, with a few exceptions, than
it really is; but it is maintained, that he only wishes for middling
talents, so that they may yield more willingly to his regulations. The
chorus (thirty females and thirty men) is very excellent. The orchestra
is also very numerous, and comprises several very good artists among
its members; but there is also a good deal of ordinary talent among
them. The Grand-Duke may claim some credit for their _ensemble_, and
particularly in the _pianissimo_; but as regards pure intonation, and
clearness of expression, there is yet much to be desired. No orchestra
in the world is so harrassed as this is; for the whole of the members
without exception, must attend every blessed evening in the theatre,
from 6 to 9 or 10 o’clock. Every Sunday, there is opera; on two other
days in each week a play; and on the four remaining days the Grand-Duke
has his opera-rehearsals. These never fail unless he is prevented by
illness. Then no operas are given. A short time ago he was obliged to
keep his room for several weeks with a bad leg; during this time no
rehearsal dare be held, nor any opera performed. He seemed to beleive,
or wished others to beleive that without him, nothing could be studied.

It is a singular sight, to see the old gentleman already grown quite
crooked, seated at the desk in uniform with his star on his breast,
giving the time; ordering the chorus and the “statists” to recollect
this thing or the other, or calling out _piano_ or _forte_ to the
orchestra. If he but understood all this, there would be no better
director of an opera; for he has not only great zeal and perseverance,
but from his station also, as Grand-Duke, the necessary authority. But
his knowledge of scores extends no farther than at most to enable him
to read after the violin-voice, and as he once played the violin when
a young man, he continually harrasses the poor violinists with his
reminiscenses, without making things any better! On the other hand, the
singers may sing as false or with as little taste as they choose, or
the wind-instruments may be one beat before or behind,--and he does not
observe it!

It is just the same with his arrangements on the stage; but there the
manager can yet come in unobserved to the rescue, while the director
of the orchestra is not permitted the slightest reproval of any error
that may occur. That the operas, therefore, despite the numerous
rehearsals should come off badly, and invariably worse the more
rehearsals that have been held, is sufficiently accounted for above,
so that in the end both singers and orchestra become incapable of more
attention from sheer exhaustion and disgust. This was the case with
the opera “Athalie” of _Poissl_, which during our stay was rehearsed
every evening when no performance took place, and in which on its
representation at last, after thirty stage-rehearsals, faults still
occured, both on the stage and in the orchestra. Of the music of this
opera but little can be said in praise. It is too common-place, and the
same kind of thing too frequently heard before. Several of the musical
pieces are imitations of the most admired pieces of _Mozart_ and
_Cherubini_, yet without producing any other effect than recalling them
to mind: so for instance, the procession of Priests, with its single
strokes of the kettle-drum, is exactly like that in the “Zauberflöte”
(the Magic Flute) during the “fire and water ordeal.” In the same
manner also, the concluding Allegro of the first act, which contains
striking reminiscences from the finale of “Don Juan,” and so forth. The
first act is besides extremely tedious, from the circumstance that so
many slow tempi and prayers succeed each other so closely, so that in
point of fact, the opera has neither life nor action.

The Grand-Duke, who considers the music of this opera very fine,
perhaps merely, because it was written by a Baron, had the vexation
to find that the public considered it very wearisome, which was even
loudly expressed close to the box of the Grand-duke. This so much
enraged him, that he said in a loud voice: “All those who do not
comprehend this splendid opera should have the doors of the theatre
closed against them!” If what people say here, is true, that he compels
the servants of his Court and officers, to frequent the theatre, by
deducting without any ceremony the amount of the subscription for the
_entrée_ to the theatre from their salaries, he might readily carry out
his threat by releasing them from this soccage!

As the Grand-Duke refused to us the assistance of the orchestra for a
public concert, because as he expressed in his reply to my request,
he could not spare it from the theatre on any evening, we were on
the point of leaving without having played in Darmstadt, when the
directors of the Cassino proposed to us to appear in their _locale_,
for which they offered us a sum of twenty carolins.[16] This offer we
accepted. I played with _Dorette_ a sonata, and two concert-pieces with
pianoforte accompaniment; and _Dorette_ concluded with the Fantasia in
C-Minor. We met with a very sympathising audience. The violinists of
the orchestra, who much desired to hear me, and Herr _Backhofen_ the
former instructor of my wife who would have been greatly interested in
her present artistic skill, were however, not permitted to be of the
auditory; for the Grand-Duke had said on the previous evening in the
theatre: “Let me find nobody absent himself to-morrow evening!”

[16] One Carolin = 20 s, 4 d English.

  _Heidelberg_, February, 11.

Notwithstanding the extreme cold that set in last night, we this
afternoon climbed the castle-hill, to behold once more the magnificent
ruins of the castle. I was pleased to find that since the last eight
years it has not been allowed to fall into further decay, and that much
more care is taken to preserve the ruins in their present condition.
The view over the town towards Mannheim, and into the valley of the
Neckar, is even in winter, beautiful in the extreme!

  _Carlsruhe_, February, 26.

Our stay here was made very agreable, from our meeting with old
acquaintances. It afforded us also some art-enjoyments. It is true
we did not hear any good orchestral-music; for the orchestra here,
although latterly several distinguished artists have been engaged, is
still very middling. A few good members cannot cloak the weak points
of the rest. On the other hand, we heard two good female singers,
Demoiselle _Bahrenfels_ and Madame _Gervais_. On the 21., when we
played in the private apartments of the Grand-Dutchess, the former
sang an aria; and a few days before, the soprano-soli in _Romberg’s_
“Glocke” (the “Bell”) which was right well performed by a society of
dilettanti in the museum. Demoiselle _Bahrenfels_ has a fine voice,
good taste and great ease of execution, but overloads her singing too
much with ornamentation. Madame _Gervais_, who is also a distinguished
actress, I heard in _Weigl’s_ pretty opera: “Adrian van Ostade” in
which she sang a Cavatina in a very brilliant manner. We then heard
her sing in our concert on the 24. the grand scena from “Faust” with
universal applause. She has also a fine voice, is of a good school,
has feeling, and great execution, but embellishes also too much at the
wrong place, and now and then sings out of tune....

I frequently played my Quartetts and Quintetts; twice at Herr _von
Eichthal’s_ and once at Messrs. _Freidorf’s_ and _Brandt’s_. I was
excellently accompanied in them by Messrs. _Fesca_, _Viala_, _Bönlein_,
and _von Dusch_. _Fesca_ played also a new Quintett of his composition,
which had many new and beautiful points in it. In the last passage
there was nevertheless something far-fetched.

  _Strasburg_, March, 6.

I must first speak of that which strikes the eye of the traveller even
before he has crossed the Rhine,--I mean the Cathedral! Far beyond
Kehl we saw its colossal and yet graceful form towering high into
the air. It has been so often and so well described (and poetically
also in Baggesen’s travels) that I shall not attempt it. But I must
say, that nothing I had ever seen before, awakened in me so much the
sentiment of the sublime, and the holy, as that wonderful structure!
What stateliness of form, what elegance, what richness of decoration,
and what imposing grandeur are here united! All that the Iconaclausts
damaged during the time of the revolution has again been restored, and
the new statues that have been placed in the room of those which were
destroyed have more artistic merit than such of the old ones as were
then spared. The building is very carefully kept in repair throughout,
and 20,000 francs annually are set apart for the external repairs
alone. Such care is nevertheless doubly necessary with this structure,
on account of its delicacy of ornamentation, as the slightest damage
would readily entail a greater and more dangerous one; for the gigantic
tower has no foundation wall running round its base but is built
upon piles, between which deep in the ground below flows a navigable
canal. Half way up, where the structure separates into two halves,
one of which unfortunately, is finished only, every part throughout
is so, aërial, so elegant, and permits the eye to see through it so
completely, that here, where when one pillar is the support of the
other, the least damage, if not immediately re-established, might
readily entail the falling in of the whole tower.

After we had sufficiently satisfied our feeling of admiration of the
bold, gigantic structure; the telegraph which extends its arms upon
the roof of the Cathedral attracted our attention. At that moment
the telegraph was being worked, and we were greatly amused with the
ease and rapidity of its movements. As we were desirous to understand
the mechanism, we ascended to it, but only reached it just as it
had ceased, and we alone saw the Despatch about to be transmitted,
in the curious characters still standing wet upon the paper. I was
desirous to know whether these characters of which there might be
about twenty four at the utmost, represented the letters of the
alphabet, or separate words, or whole sentences, and I put a few
questions to the telegraphist upon the subject. He, however, gave me
but little information, either because he durst not, or did not know
himself, which is the most probable, as the director alone is allowed
to possess the key to the characters. According to him, each sign or
character expresses a word. But this is very improbable, as it would
be impossible to communicate with sufficient clearness with four and
twenty words, even supposing the intervening missing words might be
for the most part guessed at. On the other hand, that the meaning of
one or more of the signs must have been known to him, was evident from
the circumstance, that in order to shew us the mechanism, he gave the
_signe d’attention_, by which was asked, whether in the course of the
day another Despatch was to be expected, and if each telegraphist
was to remain at his post. This sign was immediately taken up by the
next telegraph, as we could see through the telescope affixed to the
wall, and then also by the next one, although it could be seen less
distinctly. After a lapse of 7 or 8 minutes the reply came back from
Paris: “Every body must remain at his post.” This sign was immediately
taken up also by our telegraph, and then all were again at rest. The
mechanism is very simple. Three large wheels in the telegrapher’s room,
over which run cords of twisted copperwire set the three limbs of the
telegraph in motion. Smaller wheels, affixed to the larger ones set
in motion a smaller telegraph in the interior of the room, by which
the mechanist sees whether the signs have been correctly made above,
on the roof. A third moderately sized telegraph outside of the room,
directed towards the residence of the director, serves to impart to him
the signs coming from Paris. The whole contrivance is very ingenious
and does credit to man’s creative mind. The telegraphists have a very
onerous duty. From the first dawn of day-light to night fall, they must
be at their posts. The slightest negligence is immediately punished
with dismissal from the service.

In Strasburg I made the acquaintance of three distinguished _artistes_
and of several passionate lovers of music. The former were: Herr
_Spindler_, director of the Cathedral Orchestra, the successor of
_Pleyel_, who previously held that appointment, Herr _Berg_, _pianiste_
and composer, and Herr _Kuttner_ also a pianiste and a singer. Of
_Spindler’s_ Ecclesiastical-compositions a Requiem is very much
praised; of his dramatic works an Opera: “The Orphan Asylum.” Spindler
sent the score and the libretto of this opera, which was also his
property to the directors of the Vienna Court-theatre. It was not
accepted and returned under the pretence, that the song-parts would not
suit the operatic-personnel there. But a copy was thievishly taken of
the libretto, and _Weigl_ then composed music for it also. As shortly
before, his “Schweizerfamilie” had been very successful, this new work
soon became popular at all the theatres in Germany, while _Spindler’s_
composition up to the present time has only been heard in Strasburg.
For this dishonest transaction he nevertheless obtained some slight
satisfaction, for when _Weigl’s_ composition was given here last year
by a German operatic-company, it pleased infinitely less than his.
_Spindler_ is a well educated and extremely modest artiste. Among
the ardent lovers of music the Advocate _Lobstein_ ranks first. He
is Director of a well assorted Amateur-Concert-society; the numerous
Orchestra of which consists for the most part of dilettanti, and they
do not give badly such compositions, as are not too difficult and which
they have sufficiently rehearsed. As in France since the Revolution a
law is still enforced, which requires that every person who gives a
Concert, if he publicly announces it by bills, and takes money, shall
pay over one fifth of the receipts to the Directors of the Theatre of
the town; Herr _Lobstein_ made the proposal to me to give a Concert in
the same place and on the same day as the Amateur-Concert-Society, by
which means I avoided the impost. The Concert was announced privately
only, but was nevertheless so well attended that above one hundred
persons were unable to find further room in the by no means small
saloon. This as well as the enthusiastic reception that our play met
with, induced me to give a second and a public Concert after having
come to an understanding with the manager of the theatre to pay over a
fixed impost of eighty francs; but it was not so numerously attended
as the first, probably owing to the price of admission being raised
to three francs. The Orchestra was the same in both, half composed
of dilettanti and half of skilled musicians; the string-instruments
tolerably good, the wind-instruments for the most part bad. As the
latter have a good deal to do in my compositions, they therefore got
sadly mishandled. My Quartetts and Quintetts which I frequently played
at private parties, were on the other hand very well accompanied.
Upon these occasions Messrs. _Baxmann_ (first Violincellist of the
theatrical Orchestra) and _Nani_ (Violinist) especially distinguished
themselves. Although the Strasburghers are much behind the inhabitants
of the larger towns of Germany in the cultivation of music, and know
little or nothing of our newest music and its spirit, they yet appear
to relish well my compositions. My stay here therefore served to make
my compositions in demand, few of which only were known here, and they
were now frequently written for to the music sellers.

While we were in Strasburg Messrs. _Berg_ and _Kuttner_ gave together
a public Concert, in which both shewed themselves good pianistes, and
Herr _Berg_ a talented composer. He gave an Overture, a Pianoforte
Concerto and variations for two Piano’s. The allegro of the overture
pleased me especially, on account of its natural flow and the manner in
which the theme is carried out. But Herr _Berg_ is not free from the
complaint common to all modern composers, who are always striving after
effects, and in so doing miss the carrying out of their ideas.

We went a few times to the theatre, and with the exception of the
Prima Donna Madame _Dufay_, found the Opera very bad, but the Comedy
and Vaudeville excellent. I became again convinced, how greatly the
French excel the Germans in the two last kinds of entertainment. The
company here, which is generally considered but very middling, perform
nevertheless their Comedies with roundness, and life like truth, such
as is seldom seen on the stage of the best theatres in Germany.

  _Münster, near Colmar_, March, 26.

For the last fortnight nearly we are here in a small manufacturing
town in the Vosges mountains, on a visit to a wealthy manufacturer
_Jacques Hartmann_. Our host, who is an ardent lover of music, was
informed by Herr Kapellmeister _Brandt_ of Carlsruhe, that we should
pass through Colmar on our journey. He had ascertained from Strasburg
the day on which we should pass through; he therefore way laid us and
with friendly force compelled us to follow him to his house at Münster.
Arrived there at nightfall, we were welcomed by his family in the
most hearty manner, and conducted immediately through the garden to a
brilliantly lighted Concert-Room, which was decorated all round with
the names of our great Composers, among which probably from to-day
mine also has found a humble place. The Orchestra of Herr _Hartmann_
was already in their places and received us upon our entry with a
by no means ill executed Overture. The Orchestra consists of Herr
_Hartmann’s_ family, and in part of some of the employés, musicians and
workmen employed in his Cotton-manufactury. As he as much as possible
engages those only who are musical, he has succeeded in getting
together an almost completely appointed Orchestra, which executes in a
very decent manner compositions that are not too difficult and which
it has diligently practised.[17] Herr _Hartmann_ himself is a virtuoso
on the bassoon and has a fine tone and much skill. His sister and
his daughter play the pianoforte. The latter a child, eight years of
age is the star of this Dilettanti orchestra. She already plays very
difficult compositions with wonderful facility and precision. But more
than this, her fine musical ear surprised me, with which (though at a
distance from the Piano) she distinguishes the intervals of the most
complicated discordant accords that can be struck for her, and will
name consecutively the tones of which they consist. Of this child for
a certainty if properly guided will one day be made a distinguished
artiste.[18] After the family had exhibited their capabilities, we let
them hear one of our Duetts and found a very grateful and enthusiastic
auditory.

[17] From the leader of the Orchestra an employé in the manufactory,
I then made the acquisition of a Violin by _Lupot_ of Paris. I was
so much struck with the full and powerful tone of this Instrument,
which was then only thirty years old, that I immediately proposed an
exchange for an Italian Violin, which I had purchased in Brunswick,
and played upon in my first journey; the possessor of the _Lupot_
willingly acceded to my desire. I soon got so fond of this Violin,
that I preferred it to my hitherto Concert-Violin, an old german
by _Buchstetter_, and from this time I played on it in all my
travels.----------

It was not till the year 1822, when my artistic tours as Violinist
had ceased, that I bought of Madame _Schlick_ in Gotha my present
instrument, a _Stradivari_, and yielded to Concert-master _Matthaei_
of Leipsic at his urgent entreaty this Violin of _Lupot_, which in
the course of years had become very good and had acquired a great
reputation. _Matthaei_ played on it till his death, when it came into
the possession of Concert-master _Ulrich_.

[18] Unhappily she died young and before her full development.

Herr _Hartmann_ does not readily permit a Musician of note to pass
through Alsace without calling on him and therefore has already seen
many of them under his roof; among others, _Rudolpho_, _Kreutzer_,
_Durand_, _Turner_, _Bärmann_ and the brothers _Schunke_. And for a
certainty all must have been as satisfied with their stay in his house
as we were; for a more agreable host, and one more desirous to please
than Herr _Hartmann_ could not readily be found. Of the two first
mentioned artistes he related the following, which is sufficiently
characteristic. _Kreutzer_ gave a Concert at the theatre in Strasburg,
which was very fully attended. After the first part, he went and took
the receipts, and lost them at Roulette in the refreshment room to the
last _sous_. He was now called for the second part of the Concert,
and was obliged to earn wherewith to supply what he had already lost.
_Durand_ did still worse! Herr _Hartmann_ had got up a Concert for him
at Mühlhausen and accompanied him thither. _Durand_ immediately forgot
himself in a beerhouse, and it was a difficult matter to get him away
from it to hold the rehearsal. At this he missed his bow, which he
had forgotten at Colmar. He declared that he must fetch it, otherwise
he would not be able to play in the evening. Herr _Hartmann_ gave him
his carriage and urged him to return as soon as possible. The hour
of the Concert was fast approaching, but _Durand_ had not yet come
back. The public had assembled, the Musicians were tuning up,--but the
Concert-giver was still wanting! After waiting for half an hour, as the
auditory had become very restless, Herr _Hartmann_ had the Overture
played. But as _Durand_ had not yet made his appearance, he was
obliged to come forward and explain the absence of the Concert-giver.
Exceedingly displeased at this, the public left the Concert-room.
Late in the evening the coachman returned without the vainly expected
musician, and informed his master that he had sought for him for
several hours in all the Coffee-houses and taverns at Colmar but in
vain, and that at length he had found him in a beerhouse where in
company with other jovial guests he had totally forgotten the concert.

Three days ago, we gave a Concert in Colmar which was very fully
attended, and which Herr _Hartmann_ had previously solicited his there
resident musical friends to make arrangements for. As the Orchestra
which was almost wholly composed of dilettanti was very bad; I was
compelled to renounce playing any of my own compositions and chose some
of easier accompaniment by _Rode_ and _Kreutzer_. After the Sonata
which I played with my wife, a crown of laurel was thrown to us from a
box to which was attached the following poem:

    Couple savant dans l’art heureux
    Qui fit placer au rang des Dieux
    L’antique Chantre de la Grèce.
    D’un instrument melodieux,
    Et de la harpe enchanteresse
    Quand les accords delicieux.
    Nous causent une double ivresse,
    Faut-il, que les tristes apprêts
    D’un depart qui nous désespère,
    Mêlent d’inutiles regrets
    Aux charmes que votre Art opère!
    Ah! près de nous il faut rester!
    Quelle raison pour s’en défendre?
    A nos voeux, si _Spohr_ veut se rendre,
    Il pourra, j’ose l’attester,
    Se lasser de nous enchanter,
    Jamais nous lasser de l’entendre.

    _Par E. C. (outerèt), habitant de Colmar._

In the second part of the Concert Herr _Hartmann_ played also some
variations for the bassoon by _Brandt_. He seemed very nervous, but
played nevertheless right well. The receipts were very considerable
for so small a town. The day after the Concert we dined at General
_Frimont’s_, Commander of the Austrian troops in Alsace. We found our
host an extremely amiable and jovial man. By his love of justice, his
strict discipline and agreable manners, he has acquired in a high
degree the esteem of the inhabitants of Colmar.--In the evening we
returned here.

Yesterday I received information from the Director of music _Tollmann_,
in Basel, to whom Herr _Hartmann_ had previously announced our arrival,
that he had made arrangements for a Concert for us on next Sunday the
31. We must therefore take leave of our kind host and his family. But
we have been obliged to promise to come once again if possible during
the summer.

Herr _Hartmann_ conducted us several times over the Cotton factory.
It is very extensive and produces goods which in respect of taste in
the designs greatly excel the English. It gives employment to upwards
of one thousand persons, and among these to artists of great talent
as Draughtsmen and Engravers on copper. Cotton prints of all kinds
are made, common ones by hand-press, the finer sorts by Roll-press,
with furniture prints as well as carpets ornamented with large and
small designs. The latter are chiefly made for the East Indian and
China markets. On the copper-plates for these kinds, artists often
work for several years together. The designs are for the most part
copies of celebrated pictures. The mechanism by which the copper-plates
are printed off upon stuffs is a secret in the possession of the
_Hartmann_-manufactory, which is not shewn to strangers. We were made
an exception to the rule. An ingenious machine for rubbing colours was
also invented here, and is as yet the only one of the kind. Alsace
which is so rich in manufactories, is very discontented with the new
government, which does nothing for the encouragement of industry as did
the exiled Emperor, to whom the people are devotedly attached. This may
be readily imagined when we consider, that in the palmy days of the
Empire, the manufactories in this part were in an extremely flourishing
condition, which arose in a great measure from the exclusion of English
manufactures from the Continent by the celebrated Berlin decrees. But
now again when the whole of Europe is inundated with English goods, the
factories here are obliged to restrict their labours considerably.
People express here without reserve their discontent with the present
government, and say quite openly, that the favourable opportunity is
only waited for to shake off the present yoke once more. It is true,
also, that many things that tended greatly to the public good, such as
canal and road making, the distribution of prizes for encouragement of
Industry, Art-institutions etc. such for example as the Conservatory
of Music in Paris, have been in part suppressed or greatly limited, as
hateful reminiscences of the Revolution and of the Empire. All this had
made much bad blood, and rendered the new Government extremely hated.
People will therefore be by no means displeased, should the report be
verified, that Alsace is to be ceded to Austria.

  _Basel_, April, 2.

Herr _Tollmann_, a good Violinist and Director and at the same time
the most obliging man and most willing to render a service I ever met,
had already with the assistance of the Union-society of Music here,
prepared every thing for our concert. Nothing remained to be done but
to obtain the permission of the Head Burgomaster to raise the price of
admission to half a laub-thaler. This was immediately granted. Herr
_Tollmann_ introduced me to the Directors of the society, whom I found
both agreable and well bred people. They completely disproved in their
persons the report which prevails in Alsace, that the Baseler is cold
and uncourteous, and usually cuts short the visits of strangers at the
street door. I was received with politeness by all whom I visited, and
even with distinction. As the Orchestra, with the exception of four or
five artistes was composed of Dilettanti merely, the accompaniment of
my Solo-pieces, particularly by the wind-instruments was fearful. How
poor _Tollmann_ is to be pitied, to be obliged to hear such music all
the year round! And yet, he says, the Orchestras in the other towns of
Switzerland are still worse. If that is the case, then indeed Music is
in a more pitiable condition in Switzerland than in Alsace. The good
folks here are enraptured still with compositions such as in Germany
even in _Pleyel’s_ time were considered intolerable. _Mozart_, _Haydn_
and _Beethoven_ are scarcely known by name to the majority. But they
are fond of music, and the best of all is, they are easily pleased; for
badly executed as all the orchestral passages were in our Concert the
people were nevertheless content, and considered that on this occasion
the Orchestra had particularly distinguished itself. Even a Bravoura
air which was awfully tortured by a Dilettant, they found delicious.
The expenses being slight, the receipts were somewhat considerable.

  _Zürich_, April, 10.

On the road from Basel to this place, like all other travellers coming
from Germany, we had ample proof that though one travels with more
comfort in Switzerland, yet is as expensive again as there. At every
inn here, even in the smallest villages, one finds a complete and well
dressed dinner or supper, but the price all through Switzerland is
half a Laub-thaler a head. All other necessaries are equally good, but
also very dear. The expense of travelling is almost still worse. With
the exception of the short distance from Basel to Zurich, there is no
extra-post in all Switzerland, and one is therefore obliged to travel
either by the Diligence or with hired horses. Both are very dear. The
price for a pair of hired horses per day is three laub-thaler, and
their days for return are also charged for.

There is here also an “Union-society of Music.” These societies in
the Swiss towns are a great boon to the travelling artiste, for they
very willingly undertake all the arrangements for his concert. Ours
took place already on the fourth day after our arrival. We had nothing
more to do but to play. The accompaniment certainly was again very bad
and I suffered the more from it, by allowing myself to be persuaded
to select a Concert of my own compositions. At the rehearsal, by
dint of innumerable repetitions of the most difficult parts, I at
length succeeded in making them sound like music; but in the evening
the orchestra got so frightened that it upset every thing again!
Fortunately, the auditory did not appear to notice anything of it, for
they evinced the greatest satisfaction with every thing they heard.

The receipts were yet greater than at Basel. There are two artistes
living here who are also known in Germany. One of them, Herr _Nägeli_,
is the proprietor of a music-shop, and the composer of the song sung
throughout Germany: “Freut euch des Lebens” (Life let us cherish) he
has also since made a name for himself by his Singing Instructions on
the _Pestalozzian_ system. He may have great merit as a Theorist and
musical Composer but in the practical part of the science of music and
in the development of taste, he does not appear to have effected much;
for of three of his pupils whom he introduced to us as his best, one
sang an Aria, and the other two executed a Duett in our Concert, with a
bad method, and without taste.

The other artiste is Herr _Liste_, who is considered here a first rate
pianiste and Instructor, he is known by some compositions for the
piano. He shewed me some Glees and Quartetts for male voices, which
pleased me much for their melody, harmony and induction of the voices.

Zurich is most charmingly situated. From our room, at the Inn “zum
Raben” (The Raven) we have a view over great part of the lake. The
arrival and departure of boats and other craft give great life to this
part of the town.

  _Bern_, April 20.

With most beautiful weather we had an extremely pleasant journey
thither. From the summit of a high hill about a league from here,
we saw for the first time since we entered Switzerland the whole
magnificient chain of the Alps quite distinctly, and in all its
grandeur. We hailed the sight with joy! How we long to approach yet
nearer to those mountains!

The musical society of Bern undertook also with zeal the preparations
for our Concert, and relieved me of all trouble in the matter. The
attendance here likewise, was more numerous than had ever before been
known at the Concert of a foreign artist. The receipts however, on
account of the here customary low price of admission, were not so great
as at Zurich. The Orchestra here is if possible still worse than in
Basel and Zurich, and the public with the exception of very few yet
more uncultivated. At the head of the Orchestra is a brother of _Carl
Maria von Weber_, who, as I am told, is a good theorist. As a Violinist
and Director he is very weak. Among the dilettanti and members of the
Society of music Professors _Meissner_ and _Jahn_, and the Burgomaster
_Hermann_ are particularly distinguished for their cultivated taste for
the science of music. The former is Director of the society, and a very
good violinist.

As the season is already too far advanced, to give further Concerts
in the other towns of Switzerland, we intend giving up our journey
there for the present, and at once set ourselves down to rest in
some beautiful part of the Bernese Oberland, of which _Dorette_ has
such urgent need for the full re-establishment of her health. Our
acquaintances here recommend to us a village in the neigbourhood of
Thun. Yesterday, accompanied by _Edward_[19] we drove out there, and
found every thing so much in accordance with our wishes, that we
resolved to remove thither on the next day. The name of the village
is Thierachern, and it lies in one of the most beautiful spots that
we had yet beheld. At the Inn we hired two rooms, for which together
with a coach house for our carriage, and breakfast and dinner daily, we
agreed to pay the host two Carolines per week. We are all longing to
settle in this paradise, and looking forward to the enjoyment of its
rural repose. I think especially to avail myself of it to write some
new Violin compositions, with very simple and easy accompaniments for
Italy, as from all accounts the Orchestras there are worse than those
of the provincial towns in France. _Edward_ has promised to visit us
frequently, and then join us in excursions into the beautiful environs.

[19] _Edward Henke_, previously adverted to, my mother’s youngest
brother, then Professor at the University of Bern; and afterwards of
Halle.

Bern, the handsomest of all the towns of Switzerland that we had yet
seen, is situated upon an eminence of moderate height in the centre of
a somewhat long and narrow valley. The Aar, a rapid, clear mountain
stream, flows round three sides of it. The mountains which surround
it are not so high as to impede the view of the Alps from the town.
From the Platform in particular, a spacious quadrangular bulwark near
the principal church, planted with chesnut trees and furnished with
benches, the view is extensive, and charmingly beautiful. On leaning
over the wall which surrounds this platform on the south side, the
foaming Aar is seen deep below rushing between the rocks, above this
in the middleground, smiling meadows, hills covered with woods, and
villages thickly surrounded with fruit trees, and in the back ground
the majestic Alpine chain with its summits covered with eternal snow!
The Bernese are not a little proud of this spot; and the first question
they put to a stranger is usually: “Have you been on the platform?”

The houses of the town are all of them massively built, and have open
Arcades running the length of the street, under which one is able to
traverse the whole town dry footed in wet weather. Under these Arcades
are the warehouses and shops of the merchants and trades-people.

  _Thierachern_, April, 26.

We have been here three days in our beautiful little village, and are
inhaling in full draughts the breath of the first spring days in this
indiscribably charming place. We have no thought of work as yet, for
early every morning we feel impelled to hasten out into the fresh air.
We have already wandered a full mile in different directions round our
little village, and always discovered new beauties. The situation of
our dwelling is beautiful beyond conception; it stands upon a hill
from which one has a view of the country on every side. Our rooms open
upon a long balcony which extends the whole breadth of the house, and
is covered in by the eaves of the main roof. These open galleries,
which almost all the houses have, are called “Lauben”.[20] From this
laube, where in the hitherto fine weather we breakfast every morning,
we have a most extensive view over wood and meadow, as far as Thun, and
its ancient castle; then upon the right across the lake as far as the
chain of the Alps, with the white peaks of the Jungfrau, the Eiger,
and Schreckhorn. Still farther again to the right, the eye rests upon
green copse-covered hills, and villages embosomed amid orchards, and
beyond these upon the fearful rocky ridges of the Riesen, as far as the
Stockhorn. Almost every day these mountains present aspects different
from those of the previous one. Sometimes the foremost mountains
are covered with dense masses of clouds, and the hinder ones appear
majestically above them at an altitude, such as one can scarce believe
possible for any thing firm to exist; at others the farmost mountains
stand out clear and distinct; and the highest peaks alone are shrouded
in clouds. But in the evening, shortly after sun set, the sight of
these snow covered mountains is quite entrancing to behold. When the
valley is wholly wrapped in gloom, and the lights from Thun are seen
reflected upon the lake, the mountain peaks are still resplendent
with the most beautiful rosy light, which when the darkness encreases
changes into as beautiful a blue. It is a spectacle from which it is
difficult to tear one’s self away!

[20] From _Laube_, an arbour, bower.

  May, 16.

We have now begun to divide our time between pleasure and work. In the
forenoon, while I compose, _Dorette_ gives the children instruction
in arithmetic, writing, geography etc.: in the afternoon I teach
them the Piano and singing. Then away we sally out into the free air.
If the weather permits an extended excursion, we take our frugal
evening repast in some “Küher’s” (so the shepherds are called here)
and do not return till late in the evening. Should the weather be
uncertain, we go provided with umbrellas, at least as far as Thun,
to enquire after letters from home; procure some amusement for rainy
days from the lending-library, and purchase our little necessaries.
The daily exercise in the beautiful pure balmy air strengthens our
bodies, enlivens our spirits and makes us joyous and happy. In such
a disposition of mind, one works easily and quickly, and several
compositions lie already completed before me, namely a Violin Concerto
in the shape of a Vocal-scena and a Duett for two violins.

I must not forget to mention a musical Natural-curiosity which we
remarked in our walks. There is a Cuckoo here which does not sing its
name like ours in a terza, but adds another “koo” between, and which
may be expressed as follows:

[Music]

Whether this is a different kind from ours, I have not been able to
ascertain, but, that every year in this part, such Cuckookoos are heard.

Something also, I have here remarked, which has still more interested
me as a musician. The serving boy belonging to our house and some
maidens of the neighbourhood who hold their Singing-Academy before
our window every Sunday evening, intonate in their songs just like
the notes from a tin instrument when unassisted by the stopping of
the finger, i, e, the Terza somewhat too high, the Quarta still
higher and the little Septime considerably too low. From this it is
evident, that this intonation is natural to the human ear, if it is
not accustomed from early youth to the attemperated system of tones.
These nature-singers would sound as false to our tone-scale, as we
to theirs. But it is nevertheless specially remarkable, and _almost
disquieting_, that in order to attain our present richness of harmony,
we have been obliged to deviate from the Tone-scale given to us by
nature. For without our attemperated Tone-system we should be confined
to the nearest tones, and obliged to renounce the enharmonical changes
which are the _haut goût_ of modern harmony. And yet by this deviation
from nature, it seems to me that music is alone elevated to a real
Science, while all other arts, must be content to copy Nature, and even
when they would idealise, still imitate nature in all individualities.
The songs of these Nature-singers have a great deal of originality, and
when I have learned to understand better the dialect of these parts,
which has much resemblance to the Allemanic, I will endeavour to note
down some of them.

  June, 4.

Yesterday we returned from the first more distant excursion which
the fine weather tempted us to undertake, and enjoyed ourselves
exceedingly. We went to Kandersteg, a small village high up in the
mountains, distant from here between seven or eight leagues. I had
hired for this purpose our host’s one horse “Rietwägeli” and drove
myself. The map was again our guide. Our road lay at first along
the right bank of the lake of Thun as far as Spiez. Behind Gwatt we
crossed the Kander over a wooden bridge, which in a single arch of most
ingenious construction spans high and boldly the broad and rushing
stream. About a hundred years ago the course of the Kander was turned
into the lake, by which means the beautiful valley from Glutsch to
Thierachern which lay waste and uncultivated every spring owing to
the inundations, was converted into fine meadows and fruitful fields.
But this must have been a giant-labour, for it was found necessary
to pierce a high mountain for the purpose. From the centre of the
bridge one looks down from a dizzy height upon the foaming Kander in
its passage over the rocks, and at the same time upon the lowering
banks on either side. From Spiez the road turns to the right round the
majestic Riesen, and leads through a fruitful and highly cultivated
valley to Frutigen, a cheerful little place. Here a second valley
opens, out of which the Kander issues. In this gloomy, fearful rocky
vale, which is frequently scarce broad enough for the bed of the river
and the road, the ascent now begins. On both sides, rocks of stupendous
height, and which in many places hang so much over the road as to make
it quite dark, and fearful to behold. Added to that, the roar of the
onward rolling Kander over its rocky bed, and the numerous waterfalls
which on both sides of the glen precipitate themselves frequently
from a height of more than a hundred feet. As we by degrees ascended
higher with every step, we receded as it were more and more back into
the season of Spring. The cherry trees, which at Thierachern had
already bloomed a month ago, were here only in their first bloom. But
higher, all fruit trees ceased, and after we had crossed the last steep
mountain of the Kandersteg we saw nothing but a few thinly scattered
fir trees. The village, consisting of small wooden huts, unsurrounded
by gardens and trees, lying wide apart from each other between masses
of rock, presents a cheerless aspect. The snow which lies here for nine
weary months, was scarcely melted, and the meadows upon which lean
looking cattle sought a scanty fodder, still wore the sickly yellow hue
of the winter season. Upon all the lofty peaks which tower on either
side of the valley of Kandersteg, lay still a deep mantle of snow, from
which innumerable small rivulets had their rise, and leaped foaming
down. From this part, the road still ascends for three leagues more to
Gemmi, and then descends precipitously to the Leuker Baths, whose hot
springs are greatly frequented in the autumn. As the made road ceases
at Kandersteg, the visitors to the Baths, who are bad pedestrians, are
obliged to be carried on there by bearers, or upon mules, and with
this arduous occupation the majority of the inhabitants of the little
village eke out a scanty subsistance.

We slept at Kandersteg, and returned on the following day. It was an
agreable feeling to return by degrees as it were from winter once more
into the spring and summer.

  July, 1.

A few days ago I sent five new works to Herr _Peters_ at Leipsic to
be engraved. They were two collections of Songs, three Duetts for two
Violins, the seventh Violin Concerto and a grand Polonaise for Violin
and Orchestra, work 37-41. The Duetts and one of the Songs are new;
the other Songs which I wrote the previous summer at Carolath, I have
partly rewritten and newly instrumentated the Polonaise.

After mature consideration we have resolved to make the journey to
Italy without our carriage, as one travels there more economically and
safely by Vetturino. The chief reason for this decision was the fear
that the renewed exertion upon the instrument which so much affects the
nerves might again shake the health of my good _Dorette_, and embitter
both for her and us the long anticipated enjoyment of the delightful
journey. As therefore we were going to leave the harp and a part of our
luggage behind with our host, until our return, we should not require
the carriage, and save at the same time the long circuitous route by
the highroad to the lake of Geneva, and through the whole length of the
valley of the Valais. That _Dorette_ however, as artiste, should not
wholly sink into inactivity, I shall write several things in part anew,
for Violin and Pianoforte, and re-arrange some from former things,
which we can then play both in private circles and in public in Italy,
where it is even said there is great difficulty in meeting with a good
Quartett accompaniment. In the way of preparation for our next winter
journey, I may also mention an improvement I have made upon my newly
acquired violin. By a variety of experiments with voice and bridge, I
have at length so far succeeded as to make it speak as softly with the
Quinte which was hitherto hard and brittle, as with the other strings.
The change in the instrument has not been without effect on the style
of the new Violin-compositions, as also upon my method of execution!
So certain it is, that, the instrument exercises an influence upon the
method of the player in the same manner as does the voice upon that
of the singer. As one endeavours to conceal the weak points of
the instrument, and to bring out its good qualities, one plays more
especially what the instruments renders with the most ease, and in this
manner the whole method of play becomes by degrees subordinate and
appropriate to the peculiarity of the instrument. One may therefore not
only recognise the peculiarities of a Virtuoso by his compositions, but
those also of his instrument.

  August, 1.

We have again made some farther excursions in the neighbourhood.
First of all, a fortnight ago we went to Bern, to repay the solicited
visit to Professor _Jahn_, who accompained by his wife and _Edward_
had several times visited us. We passed a most delightful day with
our Bernese friends. For the last month we had been in hopes of
settled weather, in order to make an excursion on the lake; but with
the wet-cold weather of this summer we have as yet not had three
wholly bright days in succession. At length it appeared as though
it would be finer! The mountains, which for a long time we had not
seen wholly unshrouded, stood out on Friday evening in all their
majestic distinctness. On Saturday the horizon remained quite clear.
As the height of the barometer now also indicated settled fair
weather, we resolved to set out on our journey early the following
morning. On our awaking, a bright clear sky filled us with the most
agreable expectations, and we got into our Rietwägeli amid the
joyous exclamations of the children. At Thun I hired an extra-boat
which carried us over the whole length of the lake. This voyage in
the beautiful calm Sabbath morning gave us the most inexpressible
delight. The sail so over the green, clear bosom of the lake, and
along its banks clothed in the richest verdure, the majestic chain
of the Alps in the back ground, whose snow covered peaks mirrored
themselves in trembling outlines in the fathomless depth of the lake,
the solemn tolling of the bells calling to Divine worship, every thing
was entrancing, and inspired as with a sense of the purest joy. At
Neuhaus, where we landed after a three hour’s sail, we were pounced
upon immediately by one of the drivers of the carriages plying there
for hire. We permitted him drive us to Lauterbrunn. The road leads
through the little, poverty stricken town of Untersee, round the base
of a projecting mountain into a deep valley, resembling that from
Frutigen to Kandersteg, but not quite so wild and barren. Almost at
the extremity of this valley, after it has gradually become somewhat
higher, lies Lauterbrunn. As soon as we had turned the base of the
last projecting wall of rock, the Staubach lay before us in all its
grandeur. The water precipitates itself down from an immense height
upon a perpendicular wall of rock, and scatters itself so completely
into a vapoury spray, that one would almost imagine it a cloud of
the finest dust rather than water. Every thing around this wonder of
nature is worthy of it. In the back ground of the valley, barriers of
rock, over which also, leap numerous small streams of water; above
them a glacier of a greenish hue, and near that, stretching far away,
the Wengern Alps, above which the Jungfrau towering majestically over
all. Upon our arrival, we were so fortunate as to be still enabled to
behold the whole grandeur of this sublime scene under favour of the
most beautiful weather. But shortly afterwards, to our regret, the sky
became obscured, and while we were taking dinner at the inn, hail and
rain poured down in torrents. Towards evening it again cleared up a
little. We hastened therefore to take a walk through the village in the
direction of the waterfall, but found that our previous point of view
from the side, was far more favorable than close in front of it. We
were exceedingly annoyed by the pertinaceous solicitations of beggars
on every kind of plea. One offered small pieces of quartz or minerals,
and another cristals for sale. Two grown up maidens had posted
themselves on the road and howled a Duett, for which they expected to
be remunerated. We were however soon driven back into the inn by the
recommencing rain, from the windows of which we enjoyed a third view of
the waterfall from another aspect.

  August, 12.

We are just returned from Freiburg, where we went to hear the Swiss
Musical festival. Herr _Nägeli_, the President of the Swiss Society
of Music, had in Zurich previously invited me to it, and offered
me its direction, which I willingly accepted. But he had not then
bethought him that the statutes of the Society expressly forbid that
a foreign and non-member of the Union should direct the concerts.
We received therefore from the Director of the Society (who here in
Switzerland is not the same who directs the music, but he who conducts
the correspondance, provides the locale, superintends the erection of
the orchestral platform and the printing of the tickets of admission)
a friendly invitation it is true, to be present at the Festival, but
not a word was said about the direction of the orchestra. Instead of
that, he begged me to assist with the violin. But as I had always
replied both by word of mouth and writing in the affirmative, whenever
questioned whether I would direct the Musical Festival this year,
and that this had been more widely circulated, I could not now well
undertake a subordinate _rôle_ at the Festival. I therefore excused
myself from assisting at it, but wrote to say that we would attend the
Festival as hearers. On the 6^{th}, with clear favourable weather we
drove to Freiburg in our Rietwägeli. Upon our arrival, although I had
declined to assist at the Festival, we were lodged in a private house
just the same as the members of the society, and found there tickets
for admission to all the rehearsals and performances as also to a
dress ball, with text books of the “Schöpfung” (Creation) in French
and German, and for myself also an invitation to the sittings of the
Society.... As the weather was very fine, we resolved upon a walk with
the children to the celebrated Hermitage, three miles distant from
Freiburg, situated in a narrow wild rocky valley on the banks of the
Saane. This was the habitation of a pious Recluse who many years ago
had hewn it in the sandstone rock in this secluded part of the country.
It now consists, after having been enlarged by his son and successor,
of a Chapel with a bell tower 86 feet in height, hewn out of the rock,
five or six rooms, a kitchen with a chimney of the same height as the
tower, and several passages of intercommunication. The whole of this
space, the architectural proportions of which are very pleasing, is
gained by boring and excavating the gigantic perpendicular rock, and
has no where not even in the window spaces any supports of masonry. One
is filled with wonder not only at the immense patience and perseverance
of the two architects, but with admiration also at their skill and
sentiment for beauty of proportion.

The chapel is still very prettily decorated, and the bells in the tower
are still sometimes rung to summon the pious of the neighbourhood
to mass. The remaining apartments were taken possession of by a
peasant-family after the death of the last Recluse and therein they
possess a commodious and healthy dwelling at all seasons of the year.

We dined at an inn in the immediate neighbourhood and returned to
Freiburg in the evening. There we were informed, that during our
absence a deputation of the Musical Society had called at our house, to
announce to me, that on the following morning at their second sitting,
I was to be nominated honorary member. At the same time, the gentlemen
had again begged that I would lead with the violin. I was very glad
that my absence had exonerated me of the unpleasant obligation to give
a refusal. In order not to be taken by storm, I slipped secretly into
the Church and concealed behind a pillar, listened to the rehearsal. It
went very badly, and I was therefore very pleased that I was not of the
party. After the first part was over, I was obliged to retire in order
not to be seen.

When I appeared the next morning at the sitting, I was received with
applause. The President announced to me, that the members present had
unanimously elected me honorary member of the Society, adding thereto
many things very flattering to me and made honourable allusion to our
musical Festival at Frankenhausen. I returned thanks to him and the
Society in a few words, and then seated myself in the place assigned
to me. They were then engaged in the choice of a President and of the
other Officials for the next year, and after some debates nominated
Zurich as the place of meeting for the next assembly.

At three o’clock in the afternoon the performance of the “Creation”
took place. The locale was exceedingly favourable for music, and the
orchestra very well placed, but unfortunately, on the opposite side
to the Organ, so that of this no use could be made. The assistant
_personnel_, which on former occasions was at least estimated at three
hundred and fifty persons, amounted this time scarcely to two hundred,
and as the larger half formed the chorus, the orchestra was relatively
to the strength of the chorus much too weak, so that it was frequently
not heard at all. As it was also very bad besides, the Chaos, and the
accompanied Recitative in particular, went awfully bad. The Violinists
intonated unbearably false, and the wind instrumentalists, particularly
the Hornists, and trumpets, brought out tones sometimes which excited
general laughter. _Tollmann_ directed with firmness and foresight, but
unhappily took several _tempi_ totally false, almost all the airs too
slow and the chorus too fast. His greatest mistake was in the chorus
after the Chaos: “Und der Geist Gottes etc.” (And the spirit of the
Lord etc.) which he gave just like an _Allegro_. The chorus had been
well practised and sang powerfully and purely. It consisted chiefly
of German singers. Among the Solo-singers there were however two from
French Switzerland who sang in their mother tongue which sounded droll
enough, particularly in the Duett between Adam and Eve in which the
latter replied in French to the tender breathings of her German Adam.
To the auditors at Freiburg this appeared however in no wise strange,
as their town forms, the frontier boundary of both languages, and on
one side of the Saane they preach in French, on the other in German.
Hence all the inhabitants understand and speak both languages.--The
part of Eve was sung by Madame _Segni_ from Lausanne, who has a very
fine voice, but unhappily also for a German ear, an unbearable style
of execution. Among the German singers were also good voices. The
assembled public applauded the music in a very lukewarm manner, and
there was not a spark of the enthusiasm that inspired us so much in
Frankenhausen.

On the 9^{th}, the rehearsal for the Concert took place. As it had
been previously the intention to give it in a smaller saloon, but it
was found insufficient for the accommodation of the audience present,
there was a want of written voices for the whole of the orchestra. It
was therefore much less numerously appointed than the day before, and
its want of purety, and stupidity were still more obvious to the ear.
But how could it be otherwise with an Orchestra composed wholly of
dilettanti and particularly of _Swiss dilettanti_? The easiest passages
were obliged to be repeated from six to eight times before they went
even tolerably. I was astonished all along with the indefatigable
patience of the worthy _Tollmann_, but who nevertheless, it must be
confessed, was born with every qualification for the Director of an
Orchestra of Swiss dilettanti.--At three o’clock this remarkable
concert began at once in an ear-rending manner with the Overture to
_Gluck’s_ “Iphigenia.” The trumpets were pitched a quarter of a tone
too high, and notwithstanding the weakness of the orchestra were blown
with the utmost strength of lungs. Had the Overture only lasted a
little longer the greater part of the auditory would now already have
run out of the church. Then followed a long succession of dilettanti,
partly Singers, partly Instrumentalists with their Solo-pieces.
Some of them were very good, for instance a gentleman from Iverdun
distinguished himself by the ease and good taste with which he
executed a Harp-concerto by _Bochsa_. Madame _Segni_ also, the “Eve” of
the day before, sang this time in Italian and right well. A gentleman,
whose name is as little known to me as those of the other performers,
for no programme was distributed, played variations upon a clarinet, in
tone and form similar to the Basset-horn, with much skill and beauty of
tone. In the second part of the Concert, which we did not stop to hear,
for we were now satiated to nausea, we were informed that a Clergyman
of Lucern and the worthy _Tollmann_ executed a Violin-Rondo in a very
effective manner. We regretted that we were not aware that the latter
was going to play, otherwise we would have remained to the end. Such
were the productions of the Swiss Society of Music so highly spoken of
in Germany. Director _Conradin Kreutzer_ of Stuttgard and his wife, a
native of Zürich, whose acquaintance we made here, sat near us during
the performances, and we were pleased to be enabled to interchange our
opinions upon what we heard. But we were obliged to keep a constant
guard upon our looks and gestures, fore we were continually watched by
those sitting round us, who sought to read in our faces the impression
their music made upon us. When we were asked also for our opinion,
which was not unfrequently, and always with a sentiment of national
pride, we carefully kept in the mean between truth and flattery, and by
that means successfully extricated ourselves without giving offence.

_Kreutzer_ told me in confidence that, he would not return to Stuttgard
because the despotism there had become thoroughly insufferable.[21]
My former Viennese acquaintance _Romberg_ and _Kraft_ were just in
the same position; they also longed to get away and made application
for other appointments.--We passed the greater part of the time while
at Freiburg in the society of _Kreutzer_ and his wife. We dined and
supped together, and during the continuous fine weather made frequent
promenades into the charming surrounding country. It is true the
Society had a place of meeting at the “Schützenhouse”, where most of
the members dined; but as women were not admitted, because there were
several unmarried Clergymen in the society, we did not pay a single
visit to that place. But I heard that there was a total absence of
that sociability and cheerfulness which gave such a zest to our meals
at Frankenhausen.--The ball which took place in the same locality,
had neither any attraction for us, as none of us danced. We sat
therefore meanwhile, in confidential discourse at the tea-table, and
amused ourselves with the relation of past incidents of our lives
and experience. _Kreutzer_ in reality had come with the sole view to
give a concert upon his own account at the conclusion of the musical
festival, as he had been told in Zurich that this year the Society
would only give one performance. He seemed to think that I had the same
intention, for he proposed that we should make common cause and give
one together. But I had never thought of giving a concert here, and had
not even brought my violin. His concert however never took place, for
the Society gave a second, and thus we had no opportunity of hearing
the play and compositions of this famous artist.

[21] _Mozart_ has recorded his hatred of the “insolent Aristocracies
of Germany” towards whom _Haydn_ demeaned himself with more courtly
subserviency than became the great Master of Sound.

On the 10. early in the morning we left Freiburg, spent the afternoon
and evening very pleasantly in Bern in the society of _Edward_ and
_Jahn_, and returned here at 11 in the forenoon.

       *       *       *       *       *

Journey to Milan.

In _Edward’s_ company, who was desirous to avail himself of his
vacation to make a little excursion into North-Italy, we set out upon
our journey on Sunday the 2^d September. At one o’clock we arrived at
Kandersteg, where I immediately hired four horses with as many guides,
to carry us over the Gemmi. On three of them, rode _Dorette_, _Emilie_
and _Ida_, the fourth carried our luggage. _Edward_ and I preferred to
do it on foot. Three quarters of a league on this side of Kandersteg,
the ascent begins and continues tolerably steep for a good 2-1/2
leagues. The road then leads round the Gemmihorn for some distance upon
a level, till at a distance of 3/4 of a league from Schwaribach it
ascends again.--The weather had up till now been very favorable; but
here a hail storm over took us which soon changed to rain and wetted us
completely through. As it was already tolerably late besides, and we
had still the greatest and most difficult part of the way before us,
the guides easily persuaded us to put up for the night in Schwaribach.
The inn here is a mere rude blockhouse, and has nothing in common with
the hotels in the Swiss vallies, that one should be made to pay here
equally their exorbitant overcharges. But as one of the two habitable
rooms was wholly given up to us, and that besides a bundle of clean
straw for us men, we found there a large bed for _Dorette_ and the
children, we passed the night nevertheless in tolerable comfort. We
could certainly not help feeling a shudder of horror when we called to
mind previous to going to sleep, that the midnight murder in _Werner’s_
“Twenty fourth of February” was enacted here.[22]

[22] At this inn in 1807, two Italians murdered the daughter of the
Innkeeper, and this circumstance suggested to _Zach. Werner_ the
Tragedy adverted to.

During the night, snow had fallen, and it was bitter cold upon our
setting out next morning. I therefore sent back three of the horses,
and let _Dorette_ and the children walk also, more especially as the
descent to the Leuker Bad cannot be made on horseback. At Schwaribach
all vegetation ceases, and even the beautiful Alpine rose is not to be
found. The road has again a very steep ascent as far as the Daubensee
(then half covered with ice) along which it runs for the distance of
half a league through a barren valley, in which seemed to reign the
stillness of the grave; to the last ascent, which as it leads through
snow and icefields was the most toilsome ascent of all. Arrived at the
top, to our disappointment we were favoured with one look alone into
the abyss opening beneath us; for in a few minutes we were envelloped
in a mist, which scarcely permitted us to see a few paces before us. We
were now compelled to follow blindly the pack-horse and its guide, and
to keep quite close together. The road led precipitously down between
fissures in the rocks and sometimes even between perpendicular walls of
rock in which a small path had been cleared by blasting. At the part
where it runs, the horse’s neck projects over the abyss, and the guide
is obliged to hold him up by a rope secured to the load on his back, or
even by holding on to his tail with all his might. At this place the
view down into the depth which had been concealed from us by the thick
fog, makes the head so giddy, that many invalids who wish to go to the
Leuker Bad have not the courage to make the descent, and prefer, after
having had the object of their journey under their very eyes, to take
the immensely circuitous route of nearly twenty leagues by way of Bern,
Freiburg, Lausanne and through the Valais.

After we had continued descending for more than an hour without
finding any other vegetation than here and there a violet blooming in
the clefts of the rocks, we came suddenly to a region where the mist
ceased, and we were now favoured with a most unexpected and charming
view far away down upon the Leuker Bad beneath us. At this place we
rested ourselves for a moment, to recover a little from the highly
fatiguing exertions of the steep descent. But it required many such
resting places before we reached the bath, at 11 o’clock. The children
only, were not fatigued, and were always in advance of us.

While we refreshed ourselves in the large and well appointed inn, I
sent for fresh horses, and at 2 o’clock in the afternoon, animated with
new spirits we continued our journey, _Edward_ and I on foot, _Dorette_
and the children on horseback. Previous to leaving, we inspected the
sulphur-spring which rises out of the earth at boiling heat, in front
of the inn.

At Leuk it was not possible to procure any vehicle for the farther
journey. We were therefore obliged to pass the night in the miserable
inn to which our guides brought us. On Friday the 4^{th}, at an early
hour in the morning, we continued our journey to Brieg in two one-horse
vehicles, and arrived there at noon. The valley of the Valais is very
narrow and little cultivated. We saw numerous marshy meadows, and but
few maize and potatoe fields. At Brieg commences _Napoleon’s_ famed
Simplon-road, a gigantic work, which cannot be enough admired. We
here hired a two-horse vehicle to take us to Domo d’Ossola. The road
is so ingeniously carried in and out of the mountain ravines, that it
never rises more than five inches in six feet, so that heavy loaded
waggons can descend without using the drag-shoe. Especially remarkable
are several colossal bridges, which are thrown across deep glens and
clefts in the rocks, and those parts of the road which have been bored
through the rocks by blasting, and resemble subterraneous galleries.
One of these is so long, that it is but imperfectly lighted by the
light admitted on both sides. At the distance of every league, one
finds a house to afford shelter on the sudden coming on of stormy
weather. In the third of these houses is the post-house, the sixth
the custom-house, where we were obliged to pay a few laubthaler for
roadway duty. Considerable as this tax is, it is still insufficient to
keep the road in good repair, and it is greatly feared that it will by
degrees fall into ruin. Nevertheless what one hears of this decay in
foreign countries is without foundation, for with the exception of some
of the barriers which had been carried away by avalanches and not yet
reconstructed, we found it in good condition. Upon the highest part of
it, the construction of a gigantic house has been begun, in which if it
were finished, a corps of 4000 troops would be able to pass the night.
But since the fall of _Napoleon_, its construction has been stayed, and
it will now soon fall into decay. The Simplon pass is certainly not so
high as that over the Gemmi, but here also all vegetation ceases, and
even in the village of Simpeln where we slept, we found it very wintery.

Wednesday the 5^{th}, September 1816, was the happy day on which the
realisation of the wish of my early childhood, to behold the land
“where the citrons bloom” was at length to be fulfilled. After we had
travelled for two leagues more in continual descent, we came to the
frontier of Lombardy and soon found ourselves transported into the
midst of the South. Now we beheld woods of the sweet chesnut, and in
gardens, figs, almonds and magnificent festoons of the vine, trained
from one tree to another, and pendant with masses of the finest grapes.
At every step as we descended, the warmth increased; at first agreably,
but, soon quite oppressively. At noon we arrived at Domo d’Ossola,
a small but pretty town. Here in the Hotel of the _Capello verde_
we were for the first time imposed upon in real Italian style, and
impressed with the necessity of the caution, to agree always before
hand with the hotelkeeper on the charges for the accommodation. After
dinner we travelled as far as Laveno, which lies close to the shore of
the beautiful Lago Maggiore, and opposite to its celebrated islands.
Here although we had agreed before hand on the charges for our nights
accommodation, we paid as we were afterwards informed too much by
half. On the 6^{th}, early in the morning, we visited the so oft-times
enthusiastially described Borromean islands, Isola Madre and Isola
bella. Like many others whose expectations have been unduly raised
by the too lavish praises of enthusiastic travellers of particular
localities, they did not come up with our too sanguine expectations.
We were most pleased with the Isola Madre, where for the first time
we beheld with admiration the vigorous vegetation of the South, in
the ancient and majestic laurel, citron, pomgranite and fig-trees,
with other shrubs and plants of southern growth. Though of necessity
these plants must here also, as with us be protected in winter, to
secure them from the frost, yet their growth is so much more vigorous,
and the fruits are much larger and more juicy than those of our
greenhouses. On Isola Bella, there is a large but as yet not wholly
finished palace, which contains some fine apartments, in which are
several fine pictures, but the building is already going to decay.
The remaining space on the island comprises the celebrated garden,
which rises in ten terraces from the shore of the lake. The inside is
supported by masonry which rises in progressively higher arches from
terrace to terrace. The plan of the garden is gigantic, but in a bad
old french style. The numerous wretched statues in the alleys and on
the steps of the terraces are particularly repulsive and offensive to
the eye. The terraces are ornamented with beds of flowers and numerous
yet more southern products, which in the winter time are put under
cover under the arches. All were in most beautiful flower, and diffused
unknown sweets around us. From the summit of the garden site, a most
charming view is obtained of the opposite side of the lake, towards
Palanza, Intra, Laveno, and the beautiful outline of mountains which
bound the sight. Far as the eye could reach, all was canopied by a sky
of the purest and deepest blue, and lit up with such a flood of sun
light that the most distant objects could be clearly distinguished.
This, and the mild balsamic air made us especially feel that we had
entered a southern climate. Before we left the Islands, the gardener
conducted us to an historical curiosity, to the name of _Napoleon_ cut
by himself in the bark of a laurel tree, shortly before the battle of
Marengo.

The same boat that brought us to the Islands, took us six leagues
farther to the little town of Sesto Calende, at the extremity of the
lake. On this excursion we again had many a fine view of the beautiful
banks of the lake. Belgirate, Arona, and the colossal statue of _St.
Carlo Borromeo_, were seen to great advantage. At Sesto Calende, we
already found the dirt and smell peculiar to Italian towns, and that
of an Oil-boilery, so offensive to a German palate. On the 7^{th}
we performed the last days journey to Milan in the vehicle of a
Milanese driver, through a flat and uninteresting country, and put up
at a _Pensione Suizzera_ which was recommended to us for its German
cleanliness.

  _Milan_, Sept. 9.

The first of the remarkable things in Milan which we visited yesterday,
was the cathedral. This beautiful building upon which the labour of
nearly five centuries has been almost uninterruptedly devoted, and
which nevertheless is as yet unfinished, approaches most nearly in
style and architecture to the cathedral of Strasburg, but in form is
nevertheless very different from the latter. It is in the form of a
lengthened cross; at the place where the two lines meet, stands the
high-altar, and above that, the span of the majestic dome, upon which
the pretty tower in the form of a pyramid is built, the top of which
is surmounted by the colossal statue in bronze of the holy Virgin.
Innumerable other pierced gothic pyramids ornamented with niches and
statues rest in part upon the pillars of the external walls, and in
part on the marble-slabbed roof, increasing in height more and more
the nearer they approach to the tower. On the pinnacle of each stands
the statue of some Saint. The whole structure, from the ground to the
highest point, is of white, polished marble, quarried at Baveno on
the Lago Maggiore, and brought thither by the Ticino-Canal. During
_Napoleon’s_ rule, the work was prosecuted with great zeal and not
only was the _façade_ of the chief entrance completed (which had been
carried out only to the top of the door) but all the pyramids also,
upon the external walls. At first sight, and seen from below, the
building now seems finished; but upon ascending the roof, and the
tower, one sees how much yet remains to be done.

The pillars and niches are in the Gothic, the doors and windows in the
Roman style, and the statues are clothed after the Greek manner. All
the sculptured works, of which in small and large statues, in high- and
low-reliefs, in arabesques and other ornaments there are an immense
quantity in this splendid building are from the chisel of celebrated
masters, and it seems to me that, the modern works excel even the
ancient in beauty and correctness.

The Interior of the church is by reason of the painted windows somewhat
dark, but on that account and from the imposing grandeur and height, is
the more fitted to raise religious feelings. Among the numerous statues
in the interior of the cathedral, that of _Carlo Borromeo_ is the most
esteemed. Its great merit as a work of art is considered to lie in the
anatomical correctness displayed by the sculptor in the deliniation of
all the muscles, tendons, veins and prominent joints. From the gallery
of the tower one has an extensive view, bounded on the north by the
Swiss Alps, and on the south by the Apenines.

In the evening we went to the theatre _della Scala_, where was given
“_la statua di bronza_”, a _semiseria_-opera by _Soliva_, a young
composer and pupil of the conservatory here. Upon our entrance, we were
surprised at the size and beauty of the house. It is built after the
model of the _St. Carlo_-theatre at Naples, the largest in Italy, and
contains a spacious pit and six tiers of boxes one above the other, but
will not hold much over 3000 people, so much space having been wasted
in the manner of its distribution. The price of admission is the same
to every part of the house, viz, two _Lire di Milano_. The orchestra is
very numerous; four and twenty violins, eight counterbasses, the same
number of violincellos, all the customary wind instruments, trumpets,
bass-horn, turkish music etc. and yet with all, not numerous enough
for the size of the locale. The performance very much surpassed my
expectation; it was pure, vigorous, precise, and withall very calm.
Signor _Rolla_ an _artiste_ known also in foreign countries by his
compositions, directed as first violin. There is no other directing
whether at the piano, or from the desk with the baton, than his, but
merely a prompter with the score before him, who gives the text to the
singers, and if necessary, the time to the choruses. The composition
of the opera is more in the German than the Italian style, and one
could hear very plainly that the young artist had taken our German
composers, particularly _Mozart_, much more for his models, than his
own countrymen. The orchestral parts are not so subdued as is usual
in Italian operas, but are rendered in a very prominent manner, and
sometimes even so much so as to cloak the singing. It is therefore
astonishing that this opera has pleased so much, as this _genre_ is
never much liked. The well studied _pièces d’ensemble_ and the finale
have certainly not been the reasons for the success of the opera,
but a few little unimportant cantabili’s which were well executed by
the singers. These _alone_ also, were the points listened to with
attention. During the powerful overture, several very expressive
accompanied recitatives, and all the _pièces d’ensemble_, the audience
made so much noise that one could scarcely hear the music. In most
of the boxes, the occupants played at cards, and all over the house,
people conversed aloud. Nothing more insufferable can be imagined for
a stranger who is desirous to listen with attention, than this vile
noise. On the other hand, from such persons as have perhaps seen the
same opera thirty or forty times, and who come to the theatre only for
the sake of the society, no attention is to be expected, and it is a
great condescension if they only listen quietly to some “numbers”. At
the same time, I can imagine no task more ungrateful than to write for
such a public, and one is surprised that good composers will submit
to it. After the first act of the opera, a grand serious ballet was
given, which from the skill of several of the dancers male and female,
and the splendour of the decorations and costumes, presented a very
imposing dramatic spectacle. As it lasted nearly an hour, the auditory
had forgotten the first half of the opera. After the second act of the
opera, another, but a comic-ballet, not much shorter, was produced,
so that the whole of the performances lasted from eight o’clock to
midnight. What work for the poor musicians!

  September, 14.

Last evening we went to a concert, given by _Ferlendis_ of Venice, a
_Professore di Oboa_. His composition and play were alike pitiable.
It is impossible to imagine a worse Tone and a greater want of Taste
in the execution of the passages and of the cantabile, than this
Professor _di Oboa_ displayed. In Germany he would most certainly have
been hissed off; here of a necessity, he was applauded as a matter of
course by the Free-tickets. In the second part, _Luigi Beloli_ played
a Horn-Concerto of his own composition. This it is true did not exceed
the line of mediocrity, but the execution was very superior. _Beloni_
has a very beautiful tone, much skill and a cultivated taste. In order
that the horrid Oboe should not obliterate the last more pleasing
impression, we would not stop to hear the remainder of the concert.

  September, 16.

That the Italians are a very musical nation may be judged from
the fact that their beggars always solicit alms either singing or
playing. Here are parties of four or five such musicians, who play of
an evening in front of the Cafés, a by no means intolerable music,
usually accompanied by a finely dressed female vocalist, who afterwards
collects the money; sometimes they consist of three singers who with
guitar accompaniment execute Trios and short Canons very efficiently;
at others, blind fiddlers, flute players or singers who either without
accompaniment, or who accompany themselves on the tambourine, seek
their fortune singly; and even those who hawk things about for sale,
offer their wares singing. Yesterday we came upon a comical fellow of
this kind. He had manufactured for himself a remarkable instrument out
of a whip-handle, from one end of which to the other he had stretched
a single string. On the top, this cord was passed through a ball of
paste, from the aperture of which rose a large bouquet of artificial
flowers by way of ornament. In the right hand he carried a violin-bow,
with which he produced the single tone which his instrument was capable
of. The remarkable talent of this artist consisted there-in, that on
a constantly repeated melody, for the fundamental tone of which his
instrument furnished the Quinte, and which therefore never concluded in
the Tonica, but always in the dominant, he improvisated the politest
compliments to all who passed, or who sat before their doors; for
these, the persons flattered, seldom refused a gift of money, which
he collected in his hat, but without interrupting his song. In this
style of recitative singing, in which his instrument fulfilled the
duty of the orchestra, he would now praise the shape, now the dress
of the passers by, and one could see by the self-satisfied smiles and
generosity of the persons bepraised, that he well knew how to touch
them on the weak side.

This afternoon we went to another concert, given by the _Società del
Giardino_. The two Mesdames _Marcolini_ and _Fabré_ sang a duett of
_Rossini’s_. The former is celebrated throughout Italy as an contralto,
her voice is fine, and she has great execution; but she almost always
sings too low, by which in my opinion her singing was much injured.
Signora _Fabré_ is the _Prima donna_ of the great theatre whose high
notes are particularly fine, and her method of execution cultivated.
Although both singers stand equally high in regard to voice and skill,
yet here also the soprano bore away the palm from the contralto, just
as a bass-viol can never please by the side of a violin. In the second
part were sung also, a duett of _Paccini_, a Cavatina by _Bonfichi_,
and a _Rondo_ by _Paer_. All alike, the humorous or the serious, were
sung in the same manner and with the same ornamental trimmings which
have been heard a thousand times. The compositions were almost all
insipid and without intimate connection, and the singing frequently
disturbed or cloaked by meaningless figures of instrumentation.

  September, 17.

We have just seen the Mosaic-Manufactory here. The most important work
is a copy in mosaic of _Leonardo da Vinci’s_ “Last supper” on which
the artist has been uninterruptedly engaged for twelve years; it is of
the same size as the original, (the figures of the size of life). It
is divided into twelve pieces, each of which is about three ells in
length and of the same breadth. All the pieces are now finished, but
only some have as yet been polished, these (from the ceiling part only)
have a bright polish, those containing the figures were somewhat matt
in the colours, at least as compared to the good copy of the picture
from which it had been worked; but perhaps it will gain yet more life
when the polishing has been completed. _Bonaparte_ had given the order
for this work, which will now be finished at the expense of the Emperor
of Austria. As eight ducats a day are paid to the workmen, it already
costs in wages for labour 34,960 ducats. Besides this herculean labour
we saw several mosaics in the establishment, of exceeding beauty,
exhibited for sale.

  September, 17.

To-day we were present at the concert at the Conservatory of music, for
which Count _Saurau_ had presented us with tickets.

What I could ascertain respecting the interior administration of the
Conservatory is as follows: The Professors, of whom four teach singing,
one the violin, one the violincello, one counterbass, and some others
the wind instruments, are appointed by and receive their salaries from
the government, which pays also for the board and lodging of twelve
pupils, six boys and six girls. All the other pupils some of whom live
at the Conservatory, and some attend only at the hours of tuition,
are required to pay for every thing. The Milanese are said to be very
much opposed to the Institution; at the present time also, there are
scarcely thirty pupils.

  September, 22.

To-day I paid a momentary visit to a kind of Practising-Concert
where the dilettanti of this place, perform Symphonies under
_Rolla’s_ direction, and in particular of the German masters. The
string-instruments are chiefly played by dilettanti, the wind
instruments by players from the _della Scala_ theatre. When I arrived,
they had already given the old symphony in D major of _Mozart_,
and some overtures by Italian masters, and were just then engaged
practising one of the grand Symphonies of _Haydn_ (B major). It was
played with tolerable accuracy, but without _piano_ and _forte_,
and for the most part crude. Nevertheless, the Institution which is
moreover the only one of the kind in Italy, is a very praiseworthy one,
since it enables the lovers of music here to become acquainted with our
magnificent Instrumental-compositions. If I do not mistake, this weekly
Practice-Concert takes place in the house of Signor _Motto_, who is
said to have a fine collection of first class violins. But there are
a great many fine violins here. A Signor _Caroli_ has two very fine
Stradivari’s; _Rolla_ has one also of great beauty; a Count _Gozio de
Solence_ has in his numerous collection of fine violins among several
others by _Amati_, _Guarneri_ and _Guardagnini_, four Stradivari’s
also, which have never been played upon, and which although very old
look as though they had only just been made. Two of these violins are
the production of the last year of that artist, 1773, when he was an
old man of ninety three years of age. But it is immediately perceptible
on the violin that it was cut by the tremulous hands of an infirm old
man; the other two are however of the best days of the artist, from
1743 and 1744, and of great beauty. The tone is full and strong, but
still new and woody, and to become fine, they must be played upon for
ten years at least.

  September, 28.

Last evening we gave our concert in the _della Scala_ theatre. The
orchestra kept its usual place, but the female singers, and _Dorette_
and I, for our performances, took our places under the Proscenium,
between the curtain which remained down, and the orchestra. The house
although favourable for music, requires nevertheless on account of its
immense size, a very powerful tone, and a grand but simple style of
play. It is also very difficult _in a place_ where people are always
accustomed to hear voices only, to satisfy the ear with the tone of a
violin. This consideration, and the uncertainty whether my method of
play and my compositions would please the Italians, made me somewhat
nervous on this my first _début_ in a country where I was as yet
unknown; but as I soon observed after the first few bars, that my play
was listened to with attention, this fear soon left me, and I then
played without any embarrassment. I had also the satisfaction to see
that in the new concerto I had written in Switzerland, which was in the
form of a _Vocal-Scena_, I had very happily hit upon the taste of the
Italians, and that all the cantabile parts in particular were received
with great enthusiasm. Gratifying and encouraging as this noisy
approbation may be to the Solo-player, it is nevertheless exceedingly
annoying to the composer. By it, all connexion is completely disturbed,
the _tutti_ so industriously worked out, are wholly unheeded, and
people hear the Solo-player begin again in another tone without any
one knowing how the orchestra has modulated with it.--Besides the
Concerto, I played with _Dorette_ the new Pot-pourris for piano and
violin, and another with orchestral accompaniment. The latter, at the
general request, I was obliged to repeat. The orchestra, the same that
played in the opera, accompanied me with great attention and interest.
_Rolla_, in particular, took great pains. My overture to “Alruna” was
played at the beginning of the second part with great power it is
true, but not without fault. The orchestra is accustomed to too many
rehearsals, to be able to execute any thing free from fault after one
rehearsal only. Madame _Castiglioni_, a Contre-Altiste engaged as a
supplementary vocalist at the next carnival in Venice, sang an aria in
the second part, with a fine voice and a good school, and was rewarded
with a general applause. It had cost me infinite trouble to procure
these two song-pieces; for the singers of the great theatre some of
whom would have been very pleased to sing, could not get permission
from the Impressario, and all the other singers of note who lived here,
had already either signed engagements, or did not dare to appear at
the Scala. The Impressario at first demanded the fifth part of the
receipts for the grant of the theatre, but by the intercession of the
governor Count _Saurau_, this tax was remitted in my favour.

After the concert, I was solicited on all sides to give another; but as
next Friday, the only free day in each week, is the Emperor’s Name-day,
on which the governor gives a grand fête, and we have no desire to
prolong our stay another fortnight, I shall rather defer this second
concert till my return, and proceed forthwith to Venice. The first
concert moreover, has but little more than paid the expenses, which
amounted to fifty ducats.

A few days ago we visited the Picture Gallery in the Arena; the locale
is the finest we ever beheld. It consists of three large saloons, which
receive the light from above, of a long gallery, and two cabinets.
In the gallery are the pictures _al fresco_ collected from the
churches in Milan, from the walls of which they have been taken with
the plaster on which they were painted, and here let into the walls
again. Among them are some of high artistic worth, of which copies
and engravings have already been made. In the saloons, the paintings
are chronologically arranged, and the name of the master given under
each. In the first saloon are those of the earlier period, in the
middle are those of the later, and in the third those of the modern
school. Yet as far as I know there are no works of any living artists
hung up. In the Cabinets, the smaller paintings are exhibited. The
most precious of all, a _Raphael_, which although of his earlier days
when he still painted in the style of his master, is nevertheless of
infinite beauty. It is the betrothal of the Holy Virgin with _Joseph_.
In the centre stands the Rabbi who in a grave and dignified posture
pronounces his blessing; on his left is _Joseph_, a manly figure with
dark hair and beard, placing with a kindly expression the ring upon
the finger of the Virgin, who upon the right, softly blushes in all
the graceful sweetness of maiden modesty. Among the other figures, a
youth is also conspicuous, who breaks a stick against his knee. Artists
admire greatly the foreshortening of the inclined posture. At first
sight the sharp outline of the figures strikes one as unpleasing; but
after one has become somewhat used to it by a longer contemplation,
one is irresistibly fascinated with the elevated expression both of
countenance and position. In this as in all _Raphael’s_ pictures the
hands and feet are of exceeding beauty.

  _Venice_, October, 5.

On Monday the 30^{th} September we set out upon our journey thither in
company with two amiable Polish Counts, whose acquaintance we had made
in Milan, and of a painter who had just returned from a tour in Sicily.
For myself and family I had hired a Vetturino as far as Padua, for
seven louisd’or, for which price it was also agreed he was to pay for
our supper and beds....

The road to Brescia presents very little variety. Brescia is an
ancient town, in which there is very little worth seeing; but it is
situated in a charming locality on the slope of a mountain covered
with vineyards and countryhouses. We took a walk through the town, in
which we saw nothing remarkable except a vine that covered the fronts
of five houses up to their roofs, and was every where loaded with
clusters of the finest grapes. One of the Poles, Count _Zozymola_,
had meanwhile paid a visit to Signora _Mulonatti_, one of the most
celebrated Contre-Altistes of the day, whose acquaintance he had made
in Florence, where a few months previously she had sung. She is now
reposing from the fatigues of the last months in the society of her
_Cavaliere serrente_, a Count _Secchi_ who has a fine house in Brescia,
and a still finer estate in the neighbourhood. During the Carnival she
will again make her appearance here in Venice, at a salary of 10,000
francs and a benefit. Her admirer, a man of large fortune and extensive
knowledge has devoted his whole life to his _Donna_, while his two
elder brothers have greatly distinguished themselves as Generals in the
French Army. For the last ten years he has accompanied her every where
she has sung, manages her affairs, and devotes himself to all her
caprices. His sole somewhat earnest occupation is to write her memoirs
_i_, _e_, her triumphs over other singers, and her love adventures.
Once a year she furnishes him with the written data for the latter,
which are the originals of the love-letters received, and although
he is very jealous, she nevertheless prevails on the good natured
fool to copy those letters himself, and introduce them with their
respective explanations in her history. She has a husband as well, and
two children by him, of whom she is said to be very fond. This husband
plays a thoroughly pitiful part; he always keeps a certain distance,
and awaits every look and beck of his ruling mistress. Up to the
present time Count _Secchi_ has seen neither Rome nor Naples, because
his lady has not yet sung in those Cities, and she would not readily
grant him permission to go there without her.

Between Brescia and Verona, the road passes along the Lago de Garda,
whose beautiful wooded shores studded with country seats and enclosed
by mountains, present the most beautiful views, which richly repaid us
for the uniformity of the previous days journies. At the farthest end
of the lake and half in the water, lies Peschiera, a small mean-looking
town containing but few houses, but with extensive fortifications.
From thence to Verona, the road is again very uninteresting. Upon
our arrival, we learned that a female Pianiste and Harpiste of note
from Naples was to give a Concert in the theatre, and we proposed to
ourselves to go there. Through the slowness of the waiters who brought
our supper an hour later than we had ordered it, we were however
prevented going. We went nevertheless, at eleven o’clock at night by a
beautiful moonlight to see the Coliseum, of all the monuments of Roman
greatness, the one which is in the best state of preservation.... We
ascended to the topmost benches, which equal in height the loftiest
buildings of the town; from thence we had a splendid view over the
whole colossal structure. We pictured to ourselves the immense mass of
stone filled with the Romans of old--how they cheered the victors in
the Arena beneath,--and then lost ourselves in the contemplation of the
perishableness of all human greatness, and in comparisons between that
vigorous people of yore and the present inhabitants of this beautiful
land.

On one side of the Oval, the prisons are still to be seen where the
malefactors were confined who were to be thrown to the wild beasts. The
arrangement is still existing also, by means of which in a few minutes
the circus could be laid under water for naval fights and boat races.
During the visit of the Austrian Emperor, the people were treated
with a resuscitation of the ancient horse and foot races. We had seen
something similar in Milan of which I had forgotten to speak.

_Napoleon_ has erected in the _Foro Buonoparte_, a Circus in the Roman
Style, whose exterior consists also of a wall having passages for
ascent; but the benches in the interior are of turf only. Of these
there are about twelve, but from 25- to 30,000 people find nevertheless
room sufficient. On one side of the breadth, stands a handsome building
with a fine colonnade looking into the interior, from which stone
benches run the whole breadth of the building down to the circus. In
this modern Arena, which can also be laid under water, the people were
treated at the time of the coronation of _Napoleon_, as king of Italy,
with a free admission to a _rechauffé_ of the ancient Roman games. A
third but smaller edition, on payment, took place the day before our
departure.

First of all, eighteen runners in Roman costume made their appearance,
who upon a signal from the trumpets ran forward in a seemingly
encumbered manner to the goal. The victor received a flag, from the
top of which was suspended a wreath of laurel. The two next best after
him, were also presented with tokens of triumph. Twelve horsemen
now advanced to compete in speed. Several fell from their horses at
the first start, and all of them rode so badly that they excited
nothing but laughter and compassion. After the winners had been again
rewarded, came the Chariot Race, which however presented both a new
and interesting sight. The six charioteers were mounted on small
two-wheeled Roman chariots such as one sees upon old coins, and on a
given signal to start, lashed their horses, of which there were two
to every chariot into a full gallop; at the extremity of the course,
one of them in turning fell twice, horses and all, but without taking
any harm. The others drove round the course three times, and the
victors were again presented with their rewards. Now commenced the
grand Triumphal-procession. From thirty to forty Hautboyists in the
_Roman_ costume with _Turkish_ music!--playing a March from the Opera
“John of Paris” opened the spectacle. Then came the Runners carrying
spears; and at length a large Roman triumphal chariot drawn by four
oxen, with the whole of the victors. The handsomely decorated oxen had
been harnessed in pairs in the Roman manner; but the poor animals had
not been accustomed to that sort of thing, and they would not move an
inch; so that it was at length found necessary to yoke them in the same
manner as they were used to, in their dung carts, and when this was
done they went off in style. Behind them came the unsuccessful riders
and charioteers who closed the procession.

The costume of all these people and animals was well chosen, and had
one not seen round the Circus the modern _beau monde_, with now and
then among the runners a three cornered hat, the wearer of which kept
order in the games, and, not have heard the Turkish music playing the
march from “Aline”, one might indeed for a moment have fancied, to see
beneath one the old Romans of yore. But these soldiers and hackney
carriage drivers were so sparing of their miserable horses, and at the
same time so clumsy, that they soon dissipated every deception.

On the 3^{rd} early in the morning we parted from our agreable fellow
travellers, who now proceeded on their farther journey by another road
through the Tyrol to Munich. We slept in Vicenza, a filthy dirty place.
Our windows looked out upon a lonely street, in which heaps of dirt
of the most disgusting kind infected the air in an unbearable manner.
But one meets with the same kind of thing here even in the largest
Cities, and in the most magnificent squares. If one ascends a retired
flight of steps, often of the finest marble, at the grandest palaces,
it behoves one to keep in the centre, to avoid contamination, and even
the Cathedral of Milan is unapproachable on many sides for the high
heaps of filth. This exceeding dirtiness, in which the Italians surpass
almost all other nations, prevails also in most of the apartments and
kitchens. I thought to myself that a Dutchman would go out of his
senses here!

On the 4^{th} at noon, we arrived at the ancient, unsightly Padua,
where we stopped till eight o’clock in the evening. We then continued
our journey by water in the Canal-Diligence. On getting into the bark,
deceived by the uncertain moonlight I missed my footing, and fell into
the water; but in my fall I fortunately caught hold of the gunwale of
the bark, and was immediately pulled on board again. With the exception
of the fright and the trouble of changing my clothes I experienced no
unpleasant consequences from this fall. The bark is very conveniently
fitted up for the accommodation of from twenty four to thirty persons,
and towed by a horse at full trot, goes very fast. The last half of the
Canal is thickly dotted on both sides with beautiful country seats and
gardens, which at this period are inhabited by the wealthy Venetians.
The Palace of the former Viceroy, in which the governor Count _Goes_
resides during the fine season, is particularly remarkable. We much
regretted passing this beautiful part of the country in the night, but
even by moonlight the view presented is magnificent. At five o’clock in
the morning, when all Venice was yet asleep, we arrived, and alighted
at the _Albergo della Scala_.

  _Venice_, October, 10.

Little as Venice upon the whole, has come up with my expectations,
yet I was the more surprised by the beauty of some parts of the city.
The Piazza San Marco, is particularly imposing. The thousand-year
old church of St. Mark, built in the oriental style, with its five
cupolas, its innumerable statues and magnificent mosaic-pictures
with their resplendent gold ground; the colossal Bell tower with
its pyramid which serves as a beacon to the mariner far away on the
Adriatic sea, the three grand buildings almost in the same style of
architecture which enclose the square upon three sides; the busy life
under the Arcades, the rich shops of the traders and the tastefully
decorated coffee-houses, in and in front of which from eight o’clock
in the morning till far into the night the fashionable idle world of
both sexes may be seen collected: the mingled vociferations of the
numerous vendors of refreshments, and of the criers who read aloud the
proclamations of the government, or announce the pieces to be performed
in the evening at the different Theatres--all these together form so
varied a picture, that a stranger finds subject therein for a whole
week’s entertainment.

If one then proceeds to the second square which abuts on the first
near the church, enclosed on the east side by the former palace of the
Doges, and on the west by the prolongation of one of the three large
buildings adverted to; a new spectacle quite different from the former
one presents itself. Before you, the harbour dotted with gondolas,
barks and trading ships of all sizes; on the left the quay bordered
with magnificent buildings and churches extending as far as the
_giardino publico_. Opposite, situated upon a small island, a monastery
in whose handsome church the last Pope was elected, and to the right on
the other side of the grand canal the church of _San Giorgia maggiore_
with its majestic dome, surrounded by other beautiful buildings. When
the eye has feasted itself on these objects, it is attracted by the
nearer surroundings; by the motley crowd of human beings upon the
high-arched stone bridges leading over the numerous canals which from
this spot intersect the City; by the loading and unloading of the
larger ships, the embarking of the fashionable and unfashionable world
in gondolas and barks for pleasure-excursions, or journeys of business;
by the singular forms of the fish and shell-fish exposed here for
sale, and the other numerous striking objects peculiar to a sea-port.
Having seen all this, one returns gladly to the square of St. Mark,
and there finds new subjects for admiration. Upon contemplating the
church more attentively, the four gigantic bronze horses over the chief
entry first attract the eye, less by their artistic worth, for they
are not of the finest proportions, than on account of their antiquity
and their various fortunes. Carried off by the Venetians on the taking
of Constantinople, they were placed as war-trophies over the chief
entrance of the church of St. Mark, and there remained undisturbed
until the French after the conquest of Italy took them to Paris. From
thence with all the other treasures of art carried from Italy, they
were again brought back after the capture of Paris by the allies, and
reinstated in their old place amid the exultations of all Venice.
Besides these horses, there are many other memorials of the triumphs
of the Venetians in the church of St. Mark. Statues, bas-reliefs,
arabesques, columns and capitals from Greece, Egypt and the Barbary
States, and it is subject of astonishment in this building, that,
though comprising so many objects executed in the most different styles
of Art, it presents nevertheless a whole of such harmonious beauty.
In front of the church, stand three lofty red painted masts, which on
Festival days are decorated with long silken streamers reaching to the
ground, and their cast bronze foot-sockets are ornamented with fine
bas-reliefs.

On the second square, close to the water, stand two colossal pillars of
Egyptian granite, each pillar hewn in one single block. One supports a
winged lion in brass, which was also carried to Paris, the other, the
patron Saint, the holy Theodorus upon a crocodile.

The interior of the church of St. Mark, is not less beautiful than
the exterior. Walls, niches, and domes are entirely covered with
Mosaic-pictures, among which it is true some are of little artistic
worth; but in the most of them, the composition, drawing, and colouring
are very fine, and all have a pure gold ground which in spite of its
great age still shines as though it were new. Here, however, one
is soon surrounded by whole rows of mendicants, who plead hunger so
piteously and look so disgusting, that one is glad to make one’s escape
from them with the sacrifice of a few copper coins. In fact one cannot
pass through any part of the city at any time without being addressed
by beggars, and it is said as many as 25,000 here suffer from hunger.
At this period, it is true, the poor subsist very cheaply on cooked, or
rather roasted, pumpkins, which are sold at the corner of every street,
and of which a piece as big as the hand costs but a centisimo.

On leaving the Square, one finds but little to divert attention, for
in Venice people neither ride nor drive, the streets being so narrow
that frequently two persons cannot walk side by side. In the busiest
part of the city not far from the _Ponte Rialto_, the crowd is so great
that one has a difficulty to work one’s way through it. From the dirty
habits of the Italians, who throw every sort of refuse into the canals,
and from the pestilential smell of half-putrid fish and muscles,
together with the disagreeable effluvia from the workshops of most
of the artizans, it is very natural to suppose that in these narrow
streets, the whole year long, one cannot once breathe a pure air.

Here gondolas take the place of vehicles, and are to be had at a very
cheap rate. They all have an awning of black cloth, which gives them a
mournful appearance. At the time of the Republic such luxury prevailed
in the decoration of the gondolas, that the government found it
necessary to establish the present mode of covering. The gondoliers are
very expert in rowing and steering, and however great may be the throng
on the canals, they pass each other with great swiftness, without
coming in collision. When one hires two of them, the speed is equal to
that of a horse in full trot. As the houses have, besides the front
entry towards the water, a side door or exit upon the street, one can
go, it is true, everywhere by land; but on account of the bridges one
is obliged to make so many turnings, that one can get to the required
place as quickly again by water.

  October 12.

By the most beautiful weather we to-day enjoyed the singularly splendid
view from the tower of St. Mark, which is ascended very conveniently
by a spiral ascent without steps. The view is truly enchanting! On one
side one sees over the extensive mass of houses to the mainland, in the
distance the snow-covered mountains of the Friaul; on the other side
the harbour with its varied and busy life, the Islands covered with
handsome churches and buildings; and in the back-ground the open sea.
I do not remember having ever seen so beautiful a view from any tower,
not even from that of St. Michael’s at Hamburg.

At 4 o’clock we visited the church of the Foundling, where a mass was
being performed by the female foundlings. The orchestra and choir were
composed entirely of young girls; an old instructress of music gave
the time, another accompanied on the organ. There was more to be seen
than to be heard, for the composition and execution were execrable. The
girls playing the violin, flute, and horns, looked strange enough; the
contra-bassist was unfortunately not to be seen, being hidden behind
the trellis. There were some good voices among them, and one quite
remarkable, which sang up to _g_ on the fourth leger line (_g_^3); but
the style of singing of all was horrid.

We have made the acquaintance of several lovers of music, the two
Counts _Tomasini_, and Signors _Contin_, _Filigran_, and several others
whose names I do not know. The two former are assisting me greatly in
making arrangements for my Concert, and if at the present bad time of
the year for business, when every body of note is in the country, I
should have a tolerable Concert, I shall have them to thank for it.

To-day we had a visit from a German musician, Herr _Aiblinger_, from
Munich, and a pupil of _Winter_, who has been residing in Venice for
the last sixteen years. He is a pianist and composer, and seems to
possess much real taste for his art. At least he complained to us,
with a most piteous face, that in this country it was impossible for
him to keep pace with his German brothers in art, because he had
scarcely ever the good fortune to hear a German work of any note, and
that with his enthusiasm for music, his heart was fit to break; that
his circumstances bound him to a city where, for sixteen years, he
had heard every year the same things over again, while the Germans,
in the meantime, had witnessed the production of so many classic
works. I afterwards saw some of his productions, and it is much to be
regretted that he has been confined in this Siberia of art. In order
to give me an idea how little art and artists were esteemed, even
by gentlemen who wished to pass for Mæcenas’s, he related to me an
anecdote of what occurred to _Bärmann_ of Munich, who was here last
winter with Demoiselle _Harles_. Count _Herizo_, a very rich nobleman,
who, during the winter, gives a concert at his house every week, to
which he frequently invites as many as two hundred persons, besought
_Bärmann_, through a third party, to play at one of them. The latter
had himself already announced a public concert, and presuming that it
would be greatly to his disadvantage if he played elsewhere before, he
declined the invitation, but promised to play _after_ his own concert.
On the same day, however, Count _Herizo_ gave one of his customary
grand concerts in which “the Creation” was performed, I believe for the
first time in Venice; and _Bärmann_ had so thin an attendance, that to
cover the expenses of the concert he was obliged to add forty francs
from his own pocket. Nevertheless a week afterwards, Count _Herizo_
repeated his invitation to _Bärmann_, who now, however, demanded a
gratification of twelve Louisd’or. After much debate this was at
length agreed to. But _Bärmann_ shortly after was apprised that it was
intended to play off a hoax upon him. To avoid this he wrote anew to
decline the invitation, and went on a pleasure excursion with _Harles_
to the mainland. Upon his return, a friend of Count _Herizo’s_ came to
inquire of him the reason why he would not play, and on being told,
he assured him upon his honour that nothing of the kind was intended,
and that _Bärmann_ had not the least to fear; upon which the latter
gave his promise to appear at the next concert. He was very politely
received by Count _Herizo_, and the music began. After the space of an
hour, when six pieces had been performed, _Bärmann_ was curious to know
when his turn would come; he therefore asked the loan of a programme
from his neighbour, and found at the end of the whole of the pieces of
music, which at least would last two hours more, the following words:
“If time will permit, Herr _Bärmann_ will also perform a concerto on
the clarinet.” His rage may be imagined. Count _Herizo_ is reported
then to have said to him at the end of the concert, in a loud tone of
voice: “We have no time to hear you this evening, but we shall perhaps
another time!” and in this manner he was cheated of his pecuniary
gratification. _Bärmann_ immediately slunk out, but in so doing was so
unfortunate as to mistake the way, and instead of taking the passage
leading out upon the street, plumped right into the canal. Fortunately
the gondoliers plying near the spot came to his assistance, and soon
pulled him out. Half-perished with cold, and highly exasperated, he
returned home. Next morning he was summoned before the police by
Count _Herizo_. The director of police, after the matter had been
explained to him by _Bärmann_, had nevertheless courage sufficient to
justify _Bärmann_, and to point out to Count _Herizo_ the rudeness of
his conduct. Under such circumstances, however, _Bärmann_ thought it
advisable to hasten his departure, especially as a suspicious-looking
fellow had been making inquiries about the hours of his going out of
evenings. Fräulein _Harles_, also, came badly off. In the first opera
she gave tolerable satisfaction, and fault was found only with her bad
accent; but on the first representation of the second opera, she was so
disconcerted, in her very first scene, by the loud talking, coughing,
and laughing of the audience, that she ran off the stage in the middle
of her aria, and fell down behind the scenes like one dead. She was
seized with an inflammation of the throat, and, during the whole
winter, was unable to sing any thing else but the speaking recitatives.
All _pièces d’ensemble_ and both finales were sung without her, and
yet, as she could find no substitute, she was obliged to appear before
the public every evening. The managers deserve praise, for they played
her no underhand tricks, but paid her according to the agreement made.

  October 15.

There are two kinds of dilettanti-concerts given here. One takes place
every fortnight at the _Fenice_ theatre, under the direction of Count
_Tomasini_. At the one at which I was present _Teresa Sessi_, who was
formerly engaged at Vienna, sang two airs, a duet, and a quartet, with
much applause, in her old style, which is neither better nor worse.
Besides her, a dilettante attracted the attention of the auditory
by singing several buffo things in the genuine Italian caricature
style. All the rest, particularly the composition and execution of the
ouvertures, was, as is usual in Italy, exceedingly bad.

The other is a sort of practice concerts, and takes place once a week,
under the direction of Signor _Contin_. With the exception of some of
the wind instruments and of the bass-viols, the orchestra is wholly
composed of dilettanti, and the pieces performed consist mostly of
symphonies and overtures by German masters. But a proper study of these
works is quite out of the question, and it is considered matter of
gratulation if they are got through without coming to a stillstand. On
the day I was present, a very old symphony of _Krommer’s_ was performed
first, which was followed by the one in E flat major by _Andrew
Romberg_.

For the finale I was solicited to direct _Beethoven’s_ second symphony
in D major, which I could not refuse. But I had a rare job with the
orchestra, for they were accustomed to quite other _tempi_ than I took,
and seemed not at all to understand that there are shades of _forte_
and _piano_ in music, for all worked with bow and breath as hard and
incessantly as they could, and my ears rang the whole night with the
infernal noise. But these practice concerts are nevertheless so far
good that they afford the lovers of music in Venice the opportunity of
hearing several of our classical instrumental compositions, such as
the overtures to “Don Juan” and the “Zauberflöte,” which they had not
hitherto been acquainted with; and, though but imperfectly, they learn
to feel that the Germans are immensely superior to them in that kind of
composition. Indeed they say so themselves, but they do not thoroughly
believe it, and only acknowledge it, in order to be enabled to boast
with more freedom of their superiority in song and vocal compositions
(!!). The self-satisfaction of the Italians, despite their poverty of
fancy is in fact unbearable; whenever I executed in their presence any
of my things, they thought they could pay me no higher compliment than
when they assured me they were quite Italian in taste and style.

  October 16.

To-day in the forenoon, in company with three Silesians, we went to the
ancient palace of the Doges. The so-called golden stair case was the
first thing that attracted our attention. It is outside the building
as far as the first floor, is of the finest marble, and ornamented
with colossal statues of beautiful proportions. Up to the second and
third stories it is in the interior of the building, and there is
richly decorated on the sides with marble bas-reliefs, on the ceiling
with gilt mouldings and small fresco-paintings, and with very fine
statues in the niches. We then saw an extensive suite of salons and
apartments, which were truly grand in decoration, the walls and the
ceilings are painted in oil by the best masters, and here and there
at intervals are the richest and most beautiful sculptured ornaments
I ever beheld. The subjects of these pictures are almost exclusively
incidents in the history of Venice; Doges returning thanks to the Holy
Virgin for victories achieved, or the surrender of the keys of some
one of the fortresses besieged by the Venetians, etc. etc. Despite
the want of good taste in the bringing together, in these paintings,
of heavenly and earthly personages, the execution and grouping of
each, particularly in those by _Paul Veronese_, is exceedingly fine.
Altogether in my opinion, there is no kind of decoration so befitting
and worthy of a princely palace as this, in which the deeds of the
nation are immortalized at the same time with the name of the most
skilful national artist. In the present day how little feeling exists
for this kind of patriotism! Where up to the present day is there to
be seen any painting illustrating the modern deeds of heroism of the
Germans, executed by the order of a Sovereign? And yet how greatly
the artists of the present day are in want of such encouragement and
support! And I am here speaking of painters and sculptors only; poets
and musicians ought also to have been invited to immortalize the deeds
of the German people.

We came at last to the great library, which contains also a perfect
treasure of paintings and antique statues. From the gallery of this
hall one has a charming view of the harbour.--In order to be enabled
to make a comparison between the style of decorating palaces in
former time with the modern method, we visited the apartments in the
government building fitted up by order of the former Viceroy. We
found them pretty and convenient, it is true; but what a difference
between the earnest splendour of that ancient palace and the tasteless
ornamentation of the new! Instead of the marble bas-reliefs and the
rich gilt mouldings and ornaments of the latter, here we found slovenly
painted arabesques by the hands of unknown daubers, and the walls hung
with silk tapestry or figured paper instead of the pictures of famous
masters.

  October 17.

Yesterday _Paganini_ returned here again from Trieste, and therefore,
as it would appear, has at once abandoned his project of going to
Vienna. He called on me this morning, and so I have at length made
the personal acquaintance of this wonderful man, of whom since I
have been in Italy I have heard some story or other every day. No
instrumentalist ever charmed the Italians so much as he, and although
they are not very fond of instrumental concerts, yet he gave more than
a dozen concerts in Milan and five here. On making nearer enquiry, what
it is that he in reality fascinates his auditory with, one hears from
the non-musical portion the most exaggerated encomiums--that he is a
complete wizard, and brings tones from his violin which were never
heard before from that instrument. Connoisseurs, on the other hand,
say that it cannot be denied he certainly possesses a great dexterity
with the left hand, in double-chords and in passages of every kind, but
that the very thing by which he fascinates the crowd debases him to a
mere charlatan, and does not compensate for that in which he is utterly
wanting--a grand tone, a long bow-stroke, and a tasteful execution. But
that by which he captivates the Italian public and which has acquired
for him the name of the “Inimitable,” which is even placed under his
portraits, consists, on a nearer enquiry, in a succession of feats
which, in the dark times of good taste, the once so famous _Scheller_
performed in the small towns and some capitals of Germany, and which
at that time equally excited the admiration of our countrymen, viz,
in the flageolet tones; in variations upon one string, in which for
the purpose of imposing more upon the audience, he takes off the
other three strings of the violin; in a peculiar kind of _pizzicato_,
produced with the left hand without the help of the right or of the
bow; and in many tones quite unnatural to the violin, such as the
bassoon tone, the voice of an old woman, etc. etc.--As I never heard
the wonderful _Scheller_, whose saying was: “_One God! one Scheller!_”
I should much like to hear _Paganini_ play in his peculiar manner, and
the more so, because I presume that so admired an artist must possess
some more real merits than those adverted to.

The origin of his present skill as a virtuoso is said to have been a
four years incarceration, to which he was condemned, for strangling his
wife in a fit of violent rage. Such, at least, is the public report in
Milan and here also. As from a wholly neglected education he could
amuse himself neither with writing nor reading, he cheered the _ennui_
of the tedious hours of his existence in the invention and practise of
all the tricks of art with which he now astonishes all Italy. By his
disobliging and rude behaviour he has made enemies of several of the
lovers of music here, and they, after I have played any thing before
them at my lodgings, extol me upon every opportunity at _Paganini’s_
expense, in order to annoy him, which is not only very unjust, since
between two artists of such entirely different style no parallel can
be drawn; but is also disadvantageous to me, because it makes all
_Paganini’s_ admirers and partizans my enemies. His opponents have
inserted a letter in the journals, in which they say that my play
recalls to them the style of their veteran violinists, _Pugnani_ and
_Tartini_, whose grand and dignified manner of handling the violin has
become wholly lost in Italy, and had been compelled to make room for
the petty and childish manner of their virtuosi of the present day;
while the Germans and French had understood how to adapt that noble and
simple method of play to the taste of modern times. This letter, which
appeared in to-day’s paper without my knowledge, will certainly do me
rather harm than good with the public, for the Venetians are firmly
persuaded that it is impossible to come up to _Paganini_, much less to
surpass him.

  October 19.

Our concert took place yesterday, and was better attended than I had
expected, since all who have the means to go into the country, or who
are not tied to the city by very urgent business, are away, and of
all my letters of recommendation the only one I have been yet able to
deliver is the one to the governor Count _Goes_. Neither is it worth
the trouble, to bring letters of introduction to Italians, for they
are of no manner of use. A cold offer of their services, which they
do not intend to give, is all that one gets from them. But I must
return to the concert. It took place in the St. Luca theatre, which,
next to the Fenice, is the largest and handsomest in Venice. The
proprietor, Signor _Vendremi_, let me have it on the condition that
I should relinquish to him two-thirds of the sale of the boxes which
were not private property. There exists, namely, a curious custom in
Italy, which is, that certain boxes are sold to private individuals
for as long as the house stands, whereby the proprietor of the house
abandons all right to them. But these proprietors of boxes must pay
the price for admission at the entrance the same as everybody else.
This is the same for every part of the house, and always a very low
one; with the boxes which remain in the hands of the proprietor of the
theatre rare bargains are sometimes driven, and on the performance of
very attractive pieces they are frequently paid as high as several
carolini. Yesterday very little was taken for the boxes, so that signor
_Vendremi_ did not profit much. From the coldness of the public at
the commencement of my play, I immediately observed that there was
a prejudice against me; but by degrees it subsided, and towards the
close of the concert the applause was so unanimous, that I was twice
called for. All that I afterwards played now found a much more ready
reception, and the clapping of hands was as boisterous as in Milan.

To-day there has also appeared in the paper a very favorable report
upon yesterday’s concert, in which it says, in reference to the letter
adverted to, that it is unjust and partial to endeavour to praise one
style at the expense of another, and that there should be no monopoly
of any one genre in art: in which report, however, it also says of me,
among other things, “that I unite the Italian sweetness with all the
depth of study peculiar to our nation, and that I must be acknowledged
to take rank among the first of living violinists--encomiums therefore,
such as might content the vainest artist.”

  October 20.

_Paganini_ called upon me early this morning to compliment me upon the
concert. I very urgently solicited him to play something, and several
musical friends who were at my place united their entreaties to mine.
But he very bluntly refused, and excused himself on account of a fall,
the effects of which he still felt in the arms. Afterwards, when we
were alone, and I again besought him, he said, his style of play was
calculated for the great public only, and with them never failed in its
effect; and that if he was to play anything to me, he must play in a
_different_ manner, and for that he was at the moment by no means in
the humour; but that we should probably meet in Rome or Naples, and
then he would not put me off with a refusal. I shall therefore leave
this place in all probability without hearing the wonderful man.

This morning, on going out, we had the wholly unexpected pleasure of
meeting _Meyerbeer_ and all his family. He is now returned from a
tour through Sicily to meet his parents here, who have not seen him
for five years: he will then turn back through Florence and Rome to
Naples, to be present at the opening of the new theatre of _St. Carlo_.
It was a real enjoyment to me to be able once more to converse with a
well-educated German artist on subjects of art. His brother gave me
the gratifying information that my opera “Faust” had been performed
in Prague. On their journey through they were present at a rehearsal
of it. I now look forward with hope to more detailed information
respecting its representation.

At the theatre St. Moise we were present at the first performance
of the old opera “Don Papirio,” which had been studied with great
attention by the vocalists and the orchestra. The prima donna, Madame
_Marchesini_, already somewhat _passée_, distinguished herself greatly
on that evening by good execution and clever acting. The buffo singer,
whose name I do not remember, was also very excellent.

  _Bologna_, October 25.

Late on Monday evening we left Venice by the “mail boat.” As the wind
was very favorable, we performed the first part of the journey by
water, as far as where the canal falls into the Lagunes, very quickly.
Twice, for a short distance, we crossed a part of the open sea, that
is the great and lesser harbour of Chiozza, where the motion of our
bark was so violent from the roughness of the sea, that _Dorette_ and
the children were regularly sea-sick. I only escaped this affliction by
seating myself on the deck in the fresh air. When we had run into the
canal, and afterwards into the Po, where the boat was towed by horses,
it went slowly and quietly enough, so that I soon went to fetch up the
patients. As I am told here, that the rich people of the town are still
in the country, and that even at the most favorable season of the year
concerts scarcely cover their expenses, we shall abandon the idea of
giving one here, and continue our journey to Florence to-morrow morning
by vetturino.

  _Florence_, October 28.

The journey here over the Apennines, with very fine weather, was
exceedingly pleasant. The mountains, though of a considerable height,
are wooded almost to their summits, and the trees and bushes, were now
rich with the most beautiful colours of their autumnal garb. The valley
in which Florence lies presents a highly charming prospect. When one
looks down upon the beautiful gardens and country seats, one seems to
be entering a very Paradise.

  November 2.

Florence does not quite come up to the expectations one forms of it
from the description of over-enthusiastic travellers. Dresden is called
the German Florence, but is not much honoured by the parallel. The
situation of Dresden, as well as the city itself, are incomparably
finer. The Arno is a dirty, mean-looking river, and is not in the least
to be compared with the majestic Elbe. The four bridges which lead
over it and connect the two parts of the town are certainly good and
substantial, but not so long or so elegant as that of Dresden. Neither
has Florence such fine buildings nor such handsome squares as Dresden,
and excels it alone in its treasures of art of every kind. Of these
there are so many here, that one can scarcely find time to see them
all. On the square in front of the ancient palace stand several groups
of colossal statues in marble and bronze of the most celebrated of the
old masters, which make of this square, otherwise so irregular and
unattractive, one of the most interesting in the world for connoisseurs
in art. A group in marble, representing the rape of a Sabine,
especially charmed us. From this square it is not far to the cathedral,
a gigantic building with a cupola, which in circumference and height
is said to be little inferior to St. Peter’s at Rome. The exterior is
somewhat too party-coloured and not very tasteful; the walls are inlaid
with tables of marble of different colours, which present a variety
of patterns. Near the church stands a very lofty square clock-tower,
which is ornamented in the same manner. Belonging thereto, although
isolated from it, is also a christening chapel built in the same style,
and also with a tolerably high dome. Here are the celebrated gates of
bronze, of which _Michael Angelo_ said they were worthy to stand at
the entrance to the abode of the blessed, as they were too beautiful
for any earthly building. There are three of them, two of which are
executed and ornamented in the same style. But the single one is by
far the handsomest and has far larger bas-reliefs than the other two.
In the whole world is not to be seen any thing more beautiful in the
grouping, drawing, perspective, softness and purity of the work than
these bas-reliefs.

In another church we saw a succession of tombs, among which those of
_Michael Angelo_, _Nardini_, and _Alfieri_ interested us greatly. On
the tomb of the former is his bust, executed with his own hand, and
three female figures (by one of his pupils) personifying the three arts
in which he excelled: architecture, painting, and sculpture, mourning
for his loss. What however does it not confer upon the artists who
merited such memorials of their worth, and upon their contemporaries
also who raised them to them! Where can one find anything of the kind
in Germany? Where have _Mozart_ and _Haydn_ the memorials to their
honour? In Vienna no one even knows where they are buried.

  November 5.

On the day we arrived, and almost every evening since, we have been
to the theatre in the _Via della Pergola_. They are now giving an
opera of _Rossini’s_, “L’Italiana in Algeri,” and a grand ballet.
_Rossini_ is now the favorite composer of the Italians, and several
of his operas, “Tancredi,” “Il Turco in Italia,” and the above-named,
are performed with great applause in almost every town in Italy. I was
therefore glad, after having heard his compositions so frequently and
highly praised in Milan and Venice, to hear something of his myself.
This opera has, however, not wholly satisfied my expectations; in
the first place it is wanting, like all Italian music, in purity of
style, characteristic proprieties in the personages, and judicious
calculation of the length or shortness of the music for the scene.
These indispensable qualities of an opera to which we would give the
appellation classic, I had however not expected, as we do not at all
miss them in an Italian opera. One is accustomed to have the same
person sing alternately in the tragic and comic style, and to hear from
a peasant girl the same pompous vocal ornamentation as from a queen or
a heroine, and to hear one of the persons performing sing alone, for
a quarter of an hour at a time, in situations of the most impassioned
kind, while the others walk about in the back-ground, or partly behind
the scenes, and chat and laugh with their acquaintances. But I did
indeed expect qualities which should distinguish _Rossini’s_ work above
that of his colleagues--novelty of ideas, for instance; purity of
harmony, etc.; but of all these I found but little. What the Italians
consider new in _Rossini’s_ operas is not new to us; for they consist
of ideas and modulations for the most part long since known in Germany;
for instance the appoggiatura in the bass at the beginning of the
much-admired duett in the first act:

[Music]

which the musicians in Florence boasted of to me as something quite
new, and discovered by _Rossini_. In Milan, where I heard the same duet
at a concert, it was probably found too hard, and the fifth and sixth
measures were thus changed:

[Music]

Or the following modulation, also, at the finale of the first act:

[Music]

Purity of harmony is not to be found in him any more than in any other
modern Italian composer; and I have heard many sequences of quints like
the following:

[Music]

But in attention to the rhythm and in the complete use he makes of the
orchestra, he distinguishes himself above his countrymen.

The instrumentation, however, as compared with ours, first introduced
by _Mozart_, is still very meagre, and the Italians in that still
cling too much to the old. The viols and bassoons almost always go
through the whole opera _col Basso_, and the clarinets and hautboys
in _Unisono_. As in most Italian operas with from six to eight
contra-basses there is only one violincello, and usually not even a
good one, they as yet know nothing here of the (since _Mozart’s_ day)
frequent use of the violincello for middle voices, which, skilfully
brought in, has such a splendid effect; and they are far behind the
Germans in the knowledge of how to get the best effect from the wind
instruments. But what surprised me most, was to hear sometimes in these
operas a very uneven cantabile, while a flowing and for the voice
grateful and well arranged cantabile is the only praise-worthy quality
of the modern Italian operatic music, and must compensate for all the
deficiencies and faults. The two following passages struck me most; the
first in an aria of the prima donna, the second, in the first finale,
where it frequently recurs:

[Music]

[Music]

Both these passages are not only unsingable but exceedingly insipid,
and the second especially, from the somewhat slow movement and its
frequent recurrence, is wholly unbearable.

Among the singers in this opera, Madame _Georgi_, the prima donna,
is the only remarkable one. She has a full, powerful voice of rare
compass, from

[Music]

to

[Music]

Her part is written for a contralto, and she can therefore exhibit
her high notes in the _fiorituri_ only; if she possesses equal power
in the low notes a deep soprano part would suit her much better. Like
almost every singer we have yet heard in Italy she has the vice of
ornamenting too much, and does not know how to derive all the advantage
she might from her splendid voice. One hears very plainly, moreover,
that she does not draw in the least upon her own spontaneous feeling
and taste, but everything has been studied; so that her _fiorituri_,
which are repeated every evening, note for note, become so wearisome
that one cannot hear her again without repugnance. She was formerly a
dillettante, and only now sings in the third theatre; but nevertheless
she is already an excellent actress.

The ballet, which is given every evening between the two acts of the
opera, is the most splendid of any I have ever yet seen. I think it
is called “The Destruction of the Western Empire,” and is especially
remarkable for the constant introduction of great masses of persons on
the stage in full activity who form the boldest and most surprising
groups. It has been studied with extraordinary correctness, and is
performed every evening with the same precision. At the end a cavalry
engagement was represented, which however always looks somewhat stiff
and awkward.

  November, 8.

Last evening our concert took place in the theatre _della Pergola_. The
Grand-duke, to whom I brought a letter from his brother _Rudolph_, and
who has received me several times very graciously at his residence,
honoured it with his presence, accompanied by his whole family. The
small though select auditory was very animated, and after having
greeted the Grand-duke with the usual recognitions, were not restrained
from a loud expression of applause of my performances. The music had
a very good effect in the spacious and sonorous theatre; but the
accompaniment was not of the best.--To-day I have received a great
number of invitations to give a second concert next week, from which
I am promised a better result. I shall make the venture, although the
Grand-duke, who goes to-morrow to Pisa to meet his brother _Rainer_,
will not be here. Yesterday’s concert, exclusive of the Archduke’s
present to me, did not bring in more than the evening’s expenses, which
were, as they always are, very considerable; the price of admission
being only three paoli, and all disposition over the sale of a single
box being again denied me. A very favorable notice of my concert
appeared this afternoon in the newspaper.

  November, 12.

As we have now been several times to the picture-gallery, and
attentively observed all that it contains, I will commit to paper a
few words, not upon the truly splendid works of art which it contains,
for they have already been frequently and well described, but also the
expression of the impression which they made upon me. I must first of
all give due praise to the admirable custom, one by no means usual in
Italy, of admitting the public to the gallery free. At the entrance one
finds a notice in four or five languages, that the guardians of the
gallery are forbidden under the penalty of the loss of their situation,
to take the smallest present. Though perhaps they may not altogether
adhere too strictly to this injunction, one is at least fully secured
from the importunate begging, with which one is everywhere pursued in
Italy, and in this place, made sacred by art, gives oneself peacefully
up to the enjoyment.

To assist my memory hereafter I have sketched a plan of the gallery
and marked the position where the works of art stand which made the
greatest impression upon me. As I never make use either of a guide
or a book to find the objects worthy of observation in a city (I am
averse to all dictation as what I should admire, and never permit
myself to be deprived of the pleasure of finding for myself the works
of art in a gallery which are known to me by reputation), therefore
it is very possible that I have erred in many instances. On the first
day I looked for a long time and with attention at the works of art
which are in the gallery proper, before the apartments were opened in
which the _most choice_ are situated. I am even now glad I did so, as
afterwards, when I had seen the most perfect specimens of art, I could
never again remain for any length of time with the works exhibited in
the gallery. One exception to this was the _group of the Laocoon_,
which I always contemplated with renewed admiration. When the sanctuary
of art was thrown open we first beheld the celebrated _Medicean Venus_,
whose perfect and surpassingly beautiful form is yet more thrown out
by the large curtain of red-velvet suspended behind her. In the same
rotunda with her are the greatest master-pieces ever produced by the
chisel and by the brush: the _Apollo del Belvedere_[23] and _Raphael’s
St. John_. To contemplate and admire in these three works of art the
highest ideal of human beauty is an enjoyment quite peculiar in its
kind. After reiterated contemplation and long hesitation I gave the
palm for beauty to the _St. John_. Any thing more charming and at
the same time more noble than the whole form of this Youth cannot be
imagined by the most lively fancy. What may have contributed somewhat
to this decision on my part is the circumstance that the _Apollo_ as
well as the _Venus_ are of a three-quarter-life size, a proportion
which seems to be not quite happily chosen, as the figures being so
nearly the real size of life, always appear to be wanting in something,
which, if they were smaller, would not be the case. The _Apollo_ has
nevertheless a rather too feminine beauty, which not I alone, but my
wife also and several other persons present remarked. In this apartment
are numerous other master-pieces, among which a head by _Raphael_, the
_Venus_ of _Titian_; and a group of gladiators in marble, excited most
our admiration. Of the pictures arranged according to the schools in
the side apartments, the head of a female, by _Carlo Dolce_, pleased me
most; but one soon returns again to the gems of the whole collection.
On the other side of the building, in two apartments, is the collection
of Bronzes, among which the celebrated flying _Mercury_ excites the
most admiration. In another saloon is a collection of _Niobes_,
among which are some beautiful works of art. Besides these we saw
innumerable portraits of celebrated masters, for the most part painted
by themselves.

[23] This is the _Apollino_. _Spohr_ himself corrects this error at a
subsequent part of his narrative.

  November 13.

Behind the residence of the Grand-duke is a large garden called, I
know not why, _Boboli_. It is open to all on Sundays and Fridays.
Last Sunday we went there for the second time, and afterwards heard
mass in the Court-chapel. The Grand-duke, who has a collection of
between three and four-hundred masses of celebrated masters of every
period, had given out upon this occasion one of _Michael Haydn’s_ for
performance; it was executed with tolerable precision, but it was found
necessary to play a very simple solo for the tenor-trumpet upon the
viol. The musicians asked me afterwards whether we had players on the
trumpet in Germany who could execute such soli as that!

Upon our way back our hired lacquey pointed out to us the covered
passage leading from the Grand-ducal residence to the water side,
which passes through several streets at a considerable height, and
after being carried across the river Arno over one of the bridges, and
through a few more streets, abuts at the government buildings in which
the gallery is also situated. This gallery, which is at least a quarter
of an hour’s walk in length, is used by the Grand-duke when in wet
weather he attends the sittings of the privy council.

  November 15.

Our concert yesterday was not better attended than the first
and therefore brought in nothing. I am now convinced that an
instrumental-musician, even under the most favourable circumstances,
can earn nothing in Florence; for in the first place the Italians
esteem and like instrumental music too little, and in the second the
price of admission is much too low in proportion to the considerable
expenses. I must here observe, as somewhat worthy of note, that one
part of the orchestra, namely, all the violinists, took no payment,
which for people who must live from their daily earnings, and for
Italians who, wherever possible, extort three times the price of
every thing, is certainly very astonishing. For the rest, my play was
received with still greater applause yesterday than the first time.
Madame _Georgi_ sang exceedingly well the admired cavatina (sung
everywhere in Italy) in _Rossini’s_ “Tancredi,” with the following
theme:

[Music]

It was again to be deplored, that upon the return to the theme she
overwhelmed it with so much ornamentation that one could recognise
nothing of the original song. Signor _Sbigoli_, first tenor at the
_Pergolo_ theatre, who had also given his assistance at the first
concert, again sang two airs in a good style, and with much exertion,
but with little voice. He, like the singers in Venice and Milan who
sang at my concerts, required payment, but was satisfied with the very
moderate sum of a carolin for each concert.

This afternoon we, for a last excursion, strolled out to the
_Porta Romana_, to see the fresco-painting, so celebrated from
the circumstance which gave rise to it, and which adorns a small
mean-looking house there. The following is related concerning it: The
Medici had sent to Rome for the most famed masters of that time, to
paint, I believe, the chapel _al fresco_. The Florentine painters first
became informed of this upon the day previous to the arrival of the
strangers, and jealous of the preference which they had attained, they
resolved at least to shew them, that they were quite as well able to
execute the work, which they were sent for to perform. They combined
their abilities therefore, and in one night, by the light of torches,
painted this large fresco-picture, of which it is true but few traces
now remain, but which sufficiently attest the excellence of the work.
As the house on which this painting is executed, is so situated that it
must attract the immediate attention of all persons entering at this
gate, the foreign artists immediately observed the work, which had been
completed but a few hours before, and as modesty was not then so rare
among artists as it is in the present day, they immediately turned
back, and sent word to the Medici, that they could not understand why
they had been written for, since Florence produced artists who could
execute so admirable a work of art in the space of a single night, as
they had beheld. As a matter of course the work was then given to the
Florentines for execution.

We have fixed our departure for to-morrow. Some things of note, such
for example as the tomb of the Medici, which we have not yet been able
to see, we must defer until our return journey.

  Rome, November 22.

We arrived at length last night, after a long and tedious journey, in
the former capital of the world. The journey was rendered tedious,
first by the slowness of our vetturino, the driver of which had taken
up, besides ourselves, who had hired the interior of his vehicle for
twelve Louisd’or (_inclusive_ of night lodgings and supper), three
other travellers in the so-called cabriolet, and therefore could only
drive at a walking pace, secondly, by reason of the raw weather and
the cold, which for Italy was very great, and against which so little
shelter is found at the inns where we stopped for the night, where the
windows and doors are always open a good hand’s breadth, the floors of
stone, and the generally very lofty rooms not to be warmed by a chimney
fire; thirdly, from the uninteresting and barren country through which
the road passes. One has the choice of two roads. The one longer, but
more interesting, by way of Perugia, a journey of seven days; the other
through Sienna of six days. We took the latter. As far as Sienna it is
not without interest, and it is a clean and a pretty town, which has
moreover the reputation that the purest Italian is spoken there. But
from there the road runs through numerous barren stretches of country.
Neither houses nor trees are to be seen, and now and then only the
melancholy testimonials of Roman justice, that is, high posts from
which are suspended the arms and legs of bandits and murderers. How in
a country whose soil yields without manure two harvests, one of corn
and the other of maize, men should be compelled by hunger to subsist
by robberies, is to me incomprehensible: but so it is. So long as corn
is in abundance, all the roads are safe, but when hunger pinches, the
sternest severity is unavailing. During the rule of the French knives
were forbidden to be carried on the person on pain of the galleys; if
any one drew a knife upon an opponent he was treated as a murderer
and hung without mercy. By such measures the public security was soon
re-established and for a long time one heard of no more assassinations.
Now, though certainly those regulations still exist, they are not
rigorously carried out: the previous insecurity prevails anew, and it
is not safe to venture alone into the more lonely streets of the city.

Before we could drive to an inn, we were obliged to proceed to the
custom-house, where our trunks and other luggage were inspected in the
closest manner. For my violon, although it is an old one and for my own
use, I was obliged to pay a duty of seven Paoli.

  December 5.

[Music]

[Music]

This is the first music we heard in Rome, and since then have heard
it so frequently, that I have been enabled to write it down easily.
During the time of Advent, when all public music is forbidden, the
theatres closed, and a real deathlike stillness prevails, whole troops
of virtuosi on the bagpipe come from the Neapolitan territory, who play
first before the pictures of the Virgin and Saints, and then collect
in the houses and in the streets a _viaticum_, or travelling penny.
They generally go in pairs, one playing the bagpipe and the other the
shepherds-pipe. The music of all, with a few unimportant deviations,
is the same, and is said to have its origin in a very ancient sacred
melody; but from the way in which these people now play it, it sounds
profane enough. Heard at a certain distance it nevertheless does not
sound badly; the one who plays the bagpipe produces an effect somewhat
as though three clarinets were blown, he of the shepherds-pipe a sound
like that of a coarse powerful hautboy. The purity of the notes of the
bag-pipe and shepherds-pipe is very striking. Wherever one now goes, be
the part of the city which it may, one hears the above music.

Last Sunday Prince Frederick of Gotha took me to the famous Sestine
Chapel, where I for the first time saw the Pope, surrounded by all the
Cardinals in their fullest ecclesiastical splendour, and heard his
celebrated singers of the choir. Whether it is that I am differently
organized from other travellers, or that my expectations are always
too exalted from the perusal of books of travel, neither the music,
the place, nor the ecclesiastical ceremony pleased me, or impressed
me with awe. The singers of the choir were about thirty in number,
who comported themselves in a somewhat off-hand and uncouth manner.
The soprani, for the most part old men, frequently sang false, and
altogether the intonation was anything but pure. They commenced with
melodies for two voices of very ancient date, which were declaimed
by the singers rather than sung. Then followed some things for four
voices, written in a condensed style, and arranged for the voices to
fall in like in a catch. The composition of these seemed to me very
dignified, in the genuine old ecclesiastical style, and well calculated
for the place. The execution was correct, it is true, but, as we have
said, too coarse, and not better than most of our German choristers
could have sung the same kind of thing. Three and four-voiced soli
interchanged alternately with the choir; sometimes one heard also
the _crescendo_ effected by the gradual and successive entry of the
voices, and the _diminuendo_ produced by the inverse process, which in
the celebrated _Miserere_ on Good Fridays is said to have so charming
an effect. It had also a good effect to-day, but this can be equally
obtained from any well-practised choir. The place is indeed extremely
favorable to simple slow church music, as it is very sonorous and the
voices blend well with one another; but I know several churches in
Germany--for instance the castle chapel at Würzburg and the catholic
church at Dresden--where music sounds even better. I became also,
convinced anew, that vocal and instrumental music combined have a
much finer effect than vocal music alone, which, after all is always
somewhat monotonous, and, on account of its restricted limits, becomes
tedious. But in the papal chapel there is never any instrumental music,
being contrary to ecclesiastical etiquette. Lastly, as far as regards
the ceremonies, which, according to the accounts of travellers, are
on Good Friday of so elevating a character, and increase immensely
the effects of the music, this was by no means the case on Sunday;
on the contrary, many things took place which could not but appear
ridiculous to an unprejudiced spectator; for instance, the frequently
repeated removal, as though at the word of command, of the little
red caps of the cardinals, the clumsy awkwardness of several of their
attendants when carrying after them their long violet-coloured trains,
and on handing to them and again taking off their caps, etc. I also
felt indignant when I saw that the priests who read the mass, and the
preacher, before he ascended the pulpit, threw themselves upon their
knees before the Pope and kissed his red slipper; and how every time
previous thereto two assistants fell upon one knee, spread out his
capacious mantel and lifted his sacerdotal frock to enable him to raise
his foot for them to kiss. Neither did any of his assistants hand any
thing to him, not even his pocket handkerchief, without previously
kneeling before him. What is this but a degradation of humanity?

The celebrated “Last Judgement” of _Michael Angelo_, and all the other
fresco-paintings which decorate the chapel, have greatly suffered and
are much blackened with smoke. But one can still see sufficient of the
former, which covers the whole wall behind the altar, to admire the
grandeur of the composition and the masterly touch of the artist in the
execution.

After the mass the sacrament was presented to the Pope and all the
Cardinals in the Pauline Chapel, which, illuminated by innumerable
tapers, presented when first seen an imposing spectacle. As we got
there first, we heard the chaunt of the choristers who walked at the
head of the procession, approach by degrees nearer and nearer, which
produced a fine _crescendo_. A silent prayer, during which all present
remained kneeling, here closed the ceremony.

In Rome there are two private musical réunions: one, a kind of singing
academy, takes place every Thursday at the house of its institutor,
_Sirletti_, a teacher of singing and of the piano-forte. From thirty
to five-and-thirty singers, mostly dilettanti, meet here, some of whom
have very fine voices, as, for example, Madame _Vera_ (née _Häser_) and
the tenor, Signor _Moncade_. Up till now we have been there twice. The
first day, in compliment to us Germans, they gave _Mozart’s_ Requiem,
and that very powerfully and purely; all the soli and the quartet
were especially well sung. Madame _Vera_ with her splendid sonorous
organ, her firm intonation, and her fine management of the voice, sang
her part in an irreproachable manner. The grand and very difficult
fugue was in particular sung purely and well. The only disturbing
influence upon the execution, which otherwise would have afforded us
great enjoyment, was signor _Sirletti’s_ pianoforte accompaniment from
the score. It is true we ought not to have expected better; for where
should an _Italian_ teacher of singing and pianoforte get a knowledge
of harmony sufficient to read and play correctly a score of _Mozart’s_?
But as his deep (!) knowledge of harmony had been greatly extolled to
me previously, I had certainly expected something better. He struck
some such barbarous harmonies at times, that, could _Mozart_ have heard
him, he would have turned round in his grave. After the Requiem they
sang a piece of _Händel’s_ hitherto unknown to me, and, for the finale,
the Halleluja; the latter in particular was powerfully and purely sung.

On the previous Thursday they had sung some of _Marcello’s_ Psalms,
for two and three voices. These Psalms, which the Italians consider
classic master-pieces, and of which some years since a fine edition
was published with long commentaries on the particular beauties of
each Psalm, pleased me very well, but I did not find anything so
very particular in them; on the contrary, I am persuaded, although
I am not very familiar with the German works in this style, that we
have compositions of the kind by _Bach_ and others which are greatly
superior to them. They appear to me, particularly in the form, to have
been carelessly constructed, they deviate frequently for a length of
time from the chief key, and then close immediately after the return to
the tonic in a very unsatisfactory manner. Those for three voices begin
generally with soprano and tenor, and the bass first enters with the
repeat; but this third voice was never essential, and always sounded
like an orchestral fundamental bass; there were however some among
them in which the voices took up their parts as in a canon, and these
were very remarkable. Nevertheless, on the whole, the part-writing and
modulation were very monotonous, and the same intrate and appoggiaturas
recurred in all. Signor _Sirletti’s_ accompaniment was again also very
disturbing in these Psalms, and particularly unpleasant to me was an
impurity of some of the full chords, which in these simple three-voiced
things was still more out of place. With that, like all Italians whom
I have yet heard accompany, he has the execrable fashion practice of
doubling the bass notes with the right hand, which with some accords,
for instance 6/5 accords, sounds quite unbearable with the leading
tone. That moreover, by this method octaves must arise in the solution,
does not appear to trouble the Signori, nor are their ears offended by
it. To me it was also exceedingly displeasing that some Germans who
were present seemed so much delighted. What is the meaning of these
grimaces? The Italians really might be induced to believe that we have
never heard any thing so good in Germany. When will Germans cease to be
the blind admirers and the apes of foreigners!

The other private musical réunion takes place every Monday, at the home
of Signor _Ruffini_, the proprietor of the great manufactory of strings
for instruments. Here operas are executed also by dilettanti as concert
music, before an auditory of from 200 to 250 persons. The singers stand
upon a slightly raised platform, and the orchestra, consisting of four
violins, viol, violincello, double bass, two clarinets, two horns,
and a bassoon, is disposed round them in a semi-circle on the level
floor. Last Monday, when Prince Frederick took us there, an old _opera
buffo_ of _Paisiello_ was given. The selection was certainly not the
best concert music. The music of a comic opera can alone be produced
with the desired effect upon the stage, combined with the proper action
which belongs to it; but apart from that, this one appeared to me
somewhat insipid. The execution both on the part of the singers and
the orchestra, was equally bad; Signor _Moncade_, with his splendid
tenor voice, was the only one worthy of remark. Between the two acts
a dilettante executed the first Allegro of a clarinet concerto with
much ability and a tolerably good tone, but without the least taste. He
was another illustration of a remark I have already made, that Italian
virtuosi and dilettanti direct their whole attention to the acquirement
of mechanical skill, but as far as regards a tasteful style of
execution, they form themselves very little after the good models which
their best singers might be to them; while our German instrumentalists
generally possess a very cultivated style and much feeling, which,
without taking pattern of any one, they must find in themselves.

  December 7.

As Rome, like other Italian cities, offers us no great musical treats
(and even less than usual, at the present moment, as all the theatres
are closed), we must, like all other travellers, content ourselves with
the creations of architecture, painting, and sculpture of the former
flourishing period of Italian art. Of these certainly there is a wealth
such as is not to be found in any other city in the world. Wherever
one goes--in the streets, in the squares, palaces, churches, and
gardens--one sees everywhere columns, obelisks, statues, bas-reliefs
and paintings. We first strolled through all the streets, in order to
familiarise ourselves with the remains of ancient Roman architecture.
The venerable Pantheon, the Forum Romanum with its triumphal arches
and columns, and particularly the Colosseum, filled us with wonder and
admiration. We then ascended the Capitol, saw the Tarpeian rock and a
thousand other places and objects made interesting by Roman history.

On the following day we visited the immortal _Michael Angelo’s_
master-piece, the church of St. Peter. Several travellers whose
expectations of this gigantic structure from their point of view had
not been satisfied, had much depressed mine, and from that circumstance
perhaps it made a powerful impression upon me. The open space before
the church, with the semi-circular colonnades, the obelisk and the
two stupendous fountains are of themselves of imposing grandeur. But
on entering the interior of the church, one is seized with wonder
and admiration at the magnificence of the decorations. Without being
overloaded, it contains such wealth in mosaic pictures, statues, and
bas-reliefs, that it would occupy weeks to examine all the separate
works of art. As all these things are in the most harmonious relation
and proportion to each other, and are as colossal as the whole
structure itself, one is greatly deceived at first in regard to the
size of the church. But upon contemplating more nearly the separate
objects, one finds, for instance, that the little angels which hold the
basins for holy-water, when seen closer, are taller than the tallest
Prussian grenadier; and one finds the assertions of the architects who
have taken all the dimensions of the building, more creditable, that,
for instance, the cathedral of Strasburg could conveniently stand
under the dome without the top of the tower reaching higher than into
the lantern. But it is necessary to ascend into the interior of the
lantern itself to convince oneself of the correctness of the other
calculations, viz., that the pen of St. Peter is eight feet long, that
four men abreast can conveniently walk round upon the cornice, etc. etc.

From the church we went to the museum of the Vatican. The riches
it contains in treasures of art and antiquities, and the size and
splendour of the place, surpass even the most exalted expectations.
One first enters a long gallery on both sides of which the walls are
encrusted with ancient Roman inscriptions and sepulchral stones, which
had but little interest for us. We then came into a second gallery,
in which are statues, busts, and fragments of sculpture innumerable.
We then entered the famed Belvedere, where all round a circular open
court, in the centre of which is a fountain, a number of niches,
apartments, and saloons contain the most precious works of ancient and
modern art. We first saw in one of the niches the celebrated _Apollo
of Belvedere_, whose form is still considered the beau ideal of manly
vigour and beauty. By a mistake for which I may be readily pardoned,
since as I have said I never make use either of a guide or book, I had
taken the somewhat feminine figure in the gallery at Florence for the
universally admired Apollo of Belvedere. That statue, which is also of
extreme artistic beauty, is, as I am now informed called the Apollino.
In a second niche we saw the celebrated group of _Laokoon and his
sons_; in a third, three master-pieces of _Canova_, a _Perseus_ and
two Roman gladiators. The _Perseus_ is a wonderfully beautiful figure,
but evidently imitated from the _Apollo_; for the head as well as the
position of the body and of the mantle are strikingly similar. One
of the gladiators is said to resemble more an English prize-fighter
than a Roman gladiator; at least such is the opinion of the pupils and
partisans of _Thorwaldsen_, who cannot forgive _Canova_ his certainly
very blamable vanity, that he should have placed his work, the only
one of a modern in a museum of antiques. Nevertheless, if one judges
without reference to persons, it must be admitted that in _Perseus_ he
has produced a splendid work of art, and that there are hundreds of
antiquities in the museum which are not equal to it in artistic beauty.

In one apartment there is a great number of animals, single and in
groups, in marble and other yet more costly and rare varieties of
stone, of the most perfect execution. I could not give the preference
to any one of them without disparaging the others. In other apartments
are vases of immense size, of Egyptian granite and porphyry, cups,
fountains and sarcophages with bas-reliefs, arabesques and other
ornaments, as well as statues of all sizes. A two-wheeled Roman
chariot, such as were used in chariot races, with two incomparably
beautiful horses, greatly pleased us. The magnificence of the saloons,
rotundi, apartments, and staircases exceeds anything we have ever seen.
The floor consists almost wholly of ancient mosaics, and the ceilings
are decorated with the most splendid fresco-paintings.

From the Belvedere two handsome staircases then lead one story higher
up to a long gallery. One then enters an apartment in which the
tapestries are hung which were worked after the drawings of _Raphael_.
As is natural to suppose, not only the colours are said to be bad, as
is usual with all tapestries, but the drawing is also defective, so
that connoisseurs in art esteem them but little. In the composition
and throughout the grouping, nevertheless, the spirit of _Raphael_ is
visible.

Now come the celebrated “Stanzi” of _Raphael_, which are considered
by painters and connoisseurs in art as the most costly and beautiful,
not only in Rome, but in the whole world. One of these apartments he
finished entirely himself; in the others only some of the figures are
of his execution; the rest were painted by his pupils and friends
after his drawings and under his eye. The paintings are in much better
preservation than those in the Sixtine chapel and, with the care which
is now taken of them, they may for centuries to come attract the
admiration of connoisseurs. It is nevertheless a sad reflection that
some of the most precious things produced by the genius and pencil of
_Raphael_ are here adherent to the walls, and must perish with them.
It is therefore fortunate that these paintings have been and are so
frequently copied and engraved, that something of them will yet remain
when the originals shall be no more. But this must not be permitted to
be done in the way resorted to by the young Parisian academicians, who
stick their tracing paper upon the paintings with wax or even fasten
it on with nails, in order to copy the contours, by which proceeding
a quantity of the lime cement has already crumbled away from one of
the walls. An iron rail is now put up round the apartments, so that
one can no longer approach close to the walls. The passages from these
apartments lead to the “Logge” of _Raphael_, by which is understood the
arched galleries outside the buildings. Those decorated by that master
himself are now enclosed by glazed windows to shield them from the
destructive effects of the weather, the rest are open. In these “logge”
there are but four small paintings from his own hand; all the rest are
painted by others after his drawings. In a niche at the end of the
gallery stands a bust of _Raphael_, which is said, however, to be but
an indifferent likeness of him.

  December 9.

On a second visit which we made yesterday to the museum, we saw the
room containing the celebrated oil paintings of _Raphael_. The finest
of them is without a doubt the Transfiguration, respecting which so
much has been written, and disputed. Connoisseurs of art are not agreed
as to whether the composition is correct or defective. Some maintain
that it consists of two separate groups which do not harmonise with
each other in the least; others, on the contrary, say that every
part is in the most perfect and beautiful accord. Without troubling
ourself with the contentions of the æsthetics, which was renewed by two
persons in our presence, we gave ourselves up to the enjoyment of its
contemplation. It is extremely interesting to see here three paintings
of _Raphael_ of different periods of his life in close proximity to
each other. The eldest, or that of his youthful days, hangs by the
side of one by his master _Perugino_, and is painted wholly in his
style, with the same hardness of outline and the same formal, almost
symmetrical grouping. The one of the middle period (a Madonna with the
child, and some others figures, resembling very much the painting at
Dresden in the grouping) evinces his own genius enfranchised from the
form of his teacher. In the third, the “Transfiguration,” his last
important work, we see the fully developed artist.

  December 12.

As we live in a couple of rooms which cannot be heated, we have
suffered somewhat from cold the last eight days, on account of the
_Tramontana_, or north wind, which has not ceased to blow all that
time; but although we have had hoar-frost a few times in Rome, we have
had no ice yet, neither has it snowed. When we rose this morning,
we found that the outside of our window was dim with moisture, and
on opening it a warm moist air blew in; while the weathercocks
informed us that the _Sirocco_ (south wind) was blowing. It now
soon became overcast, and this afternoon it is raining. Generally,
however, the _Tramontana_ brings bright settled weather. As Rome
is very damp and dirty, one soon longs for the return of that wind,
and is better content with a little cold than with the unwholesome
moisture. In the spring of the year especially, when it begins to grow
warm, this moisture is said to be quite unbearable, and to engender
dangerous fevers, particularly on the other side of the Tiber, in the
neighbourhood of the Vatican, where many a stranger, who has taken up
his residence there on account of the cheaper rate of the lodging,
has found a grave. In the summer months especially Rome must be very
unhealthy, the air being charged with the exhalations from the dead
bodies, which, according to ancient custom, are here all deposited
in the vaults of the churches. Every time one of these vaults is
opened, which takes place almost every day, a stench rushes out which
penetrates into the interior of the very palaces of the living. At the
time of the domination of the French the dead were buried outside the
city, but no sooner was the papal rule restored, than that wholesome
regulation was discontinued. No corpse is permitted to remain unburied
longer than twenty-four hours, and accordingly the body of any one
deceased is laid upon a bier, some eight or ten hours only after the
breath is out of it, and carried with uncovered head, breast, and feet,
in broad daylight, through the street to the church, and set down
before the altar, when if the estate is sufficient to pay the expenses,
a mass for the dead is read, and the body is thrown uncoffined through
one of the openings of the vaults. That many only apparently dead are
in this manner buried with the rest, may be readily imagined; and a few
years ago such a case actually occured. A poor man, who a few hours
after his apparent death had been thrown into the vault, was aroused by
the fall and passed two fearful days among the half-decomposed bodies,
when fortunately the chief entrance to the vault was opened in order to
clear it out, and the poor fellow was rescued and is still living.

In no city in the world, I think, is the contrast so striking between
the most luxurious splendour and the most abject misery as here. On
the marble steps of the palaces, among the statues for which thousands
have been paid, near the altars of the churches which are laden
with golden ornaments and utensils--everywhere, in fact, one sees
half-starved mendicants lying, who moan for bread, and gnaw the stumps
of cabbages or the peel of lemons, which they have picked out of the
gutter. At first I thought this a trick merely to excite the compassion
of strangers; but I became convinced afterwards that many of the poor
must for days subsist on such horrid food, or perish with hunger. The
Romans are accustomed to see this misery from their youth, and seldom
give alms (except they drop it into the begging-box of some well-fed
monk collecting for his monastery), and strangers soon become hardened
to pity, when they find that as soon as they have given something to
one beggar, they are immediately surrounded by _twenty others_. It is
true there are many among them who beg from sheer idleness, but there
are many also who are quite unable to work for a livelihood. In this
respect also I admire my native country, where every pauper has at
least potatoes and bread, and a case of one dying of starvation in the
midst of his richer fellowmen is wholly unheard of.

  December 19.

Last evening our concert took place. As I had been refused permission
to give a public concert in the theatre during Advent, I was obliged
to make arrangements to give it at a private house, without any public
announcement. Prince _Piombino_ granted me an apartment for the purpose
in the _Ruspoli_ palace, and Count _Apponyi_, the Austrian ambassador,
procured for me a considerable number of subscribers; so that this was
the first concert in Italy that brought me a somewhat considerable
profit. The price of admission was one Piaster (nearly a Laubthaler).
The orchestra, composed of the best musicians of Rome, was nevertheless
the worst of all that had yet accompanied me in Italy. The ignorance,
want of taste, and stupid arrogance of these people beggars all
description. Of _nuances_ in _piano_ and _forte_ they know absolutely
nothing. One might let that pass, but each individual makes just what
ornamentation comes into his head and double strokes with almost every
tone, so that the _ensemble_ resembles more the noise of an orchestra
tuning up than harmonious music. I certainly forbade several times
every note which did not stand in the score; but ornamentation has
become so much a second nature to them, that they cannot desist from
it. The first hornist, for instance, blew once in the _Tutti_, instead
of the simple cadence,

[Music]

the following

[Music]

The Clarinets blew perhaps at the same time

[Music]

instead of

[Music]

and now if one imagines the figured passages for the violins, which
the composer has prescribed, some conception may be formed of the
bewildering noise which such an orchestra gives you for music. With
that, the musicians have so little musical taste, and are so unskilled
in note-reading, that we nearly broke down twice. Here also, my
concerto in the form of a vocal-scene pleased most, and I gained far
more applause for the way in which I played the song parts, than for
the mastery of very great difficulties. A tenor belonging to the papal
orchestra, the permission for whose co-operation I had obtained with
great difficulty, sang a duet with Mademoiselle _Funk_ of Dresden, and
a very beautiful air of _Rossini_, the best of that composer which I
had yet heard.

  December 20.

Last evening I was present at a small private musical performance
at the house of Count _Apponyi_. There was much good vocal music
with piano accompaniment. The best were a duet from a “Passione” by
_Paisiello_, most charmingly sung by Madame _Häser_ and the Countess
_Apponyi_; an aria by _Zingarelli_ with chorus, written for Madame
_Häser_ and executed by her in the most finished manner; a duett of
_Rossini’s_, sung by Countess and Signor _Moncade_. Madame _Häser_ sang
with a feeling and a purity such as I never heard her display before.
Her magnificent sonorous voice, which in a room with much reverberation
sounds almost too sharp, particularly in the higher tones, had a fine
effect yesterday in an apartment where the tapestry and carpeting
deadened the sound. She has at command every nuance of tone, from the
most tender breathings to the greatest fullness of power, and she
knows how to avail herself of it in a masterly manner. She has lost,
it is true, the brilliant fluency of voice which was formerly so much
admired in Dresden, but she retains still enough of it to enable her
to give every vocal ornamentation with ease and elegance. The only
thing I miss in her singing is the shake, which in the present day is
so much neglected. _Moncade_ is a singer with a fine chest voice, and
a tasteful though not a very feeling execution. Besides them, Prince
_Frederick of Gotha_ sang an air, and a bass singer a couple of Buffi.

I have again been twice to _Sirletti’s_ music parties. A week ago some
parts of the Requiem were repeated and the Halleluja; but the rest of
the evening was wholly devoted to _Marcello’s_ Psalms. With regard
to the latter, I find my former opinion still more confirmed. In the
fine edition of these Psalms, there is also a biography of _Marcello_,
in which the reason is given for his relinquishing theatrical
compositions, to which alone he had previously devoted himself, and
taking all at once to sacred music. On visiting a church in a retired
part of Venice, he had the misfortune to fall through a badly covered
opening into one of the subterranean dead-vaults, and remained there
a long time before his cries for assistance were heard. This accident
induced so serious a tone of mind, that ever after he would write
nothing but sacred music.

I have again been to _Ruffini’s_ music parties also, and heard a
tragic opera by a young and early deceased composer, who had much
native talent but evinced also a complete deficiency of study. The
singer showed to more advantage in this opera than in the one they
gave previously; but the orchestra was just as unbearable. I sat next
to the formerly so celebrated singer _Crescentini_ (but, who is said
to have now wholly lost his voice, although he is scarcely fifty years
of age), and I had the satisfaction to find that his opinion upon the
present state of music in Italy agreed in every respect with mine.
His conversation evinced the highly cultivated artiste, free from the
trammels of prejudice. He deplored that at the present day the good
school of vocal music, the only one in which Italians had distinguished
themselves, had become more and more rare every day, and upon his
last return to Italy (I think he had been in Paris) he had found so
frivolous and bad a taste, that it no longer bore the least trace
of the former simple yet noble style of his time. To him, also, who
had heard much good music in Germany and France, the insipidity and
incorrectness of modern Italian music are abominations.

  December 23.

Now that the festival of Christmas is approaching, begging, with which
one is plagued here at all times, will be carried on on a large scale.
Wherever you go, you are greeted with the cry of “Pleasant holidays!”
and you are then expected to pull out your purse. This system of
begging occurs, it is true, in Germany at New Year, but is by no means
so general as here. For instance, the servants of all the nobility and
gentry at whose houses have shewn yourself, if but once, come to beg
of you; and indeed at other times as well, foreigners are laid under
contribution by them. If you have paid the master a visit, the servant
comes the next day and asks you for a present. As one cannot give less
than three Paoli, it becomes a dear amusement to deliver many letters
of introduction here. The poor devils are certainly very badly paid,
and must resort to such a system of begging if they would not starve.

Yesterday _Meyerbeer_ and his mother arrived here. He received a letter
in Florence from _Carl M. von Weber_, and read to me from it the
gratifying intelligence that my Opera “Faust” had already been twice
performed at Prague with marked approbation.

  December 25.

Last evening we were present at a service in the Sixtine chapel
preparatory to the approaching high festival. I had anticipated
something very effective but I found myself very much mistaken. The
illumination was by no means effective, for the chapel was soon so
filled with the smoke of the tapers that you could not see distinctly
ten paces before you. Instead of the four-voice Psalmody which I had
hoped for, the singers of the choir recited merely a rather long Litany
of prayers in _unison_, without any melody, something as the following:

[Music]

To listen to this for almost half an hour without interruption was the
greatest musical penitence that I ever endured. At length, in the midst
of a silent prayer, we were refreshed by a four-voiced solo, in which
the splendid soprano-voice before alluded to was again remarkable. But
immediately after this, the monotonous chaunt was again resumed, and
now we thought it preferable to work our way through the compact crowd
at the expense of great exertion rather than to endure it any longer.

This morning early we at length saw the head of the catholic church
in the highest ecclesiastical pomp perform mass in the church of
St. Peter. The high altar under the dome, divested of its habitual
covering, was radiant with gold and precious stones; the clergy and
cardinals, habited in their richest gold-embroidered stuffs, the
body-guard in their splendid uniform, the Swiss guard in their bright
polished old German armour, in a word all converted with the pope
contributed to render this service the most splendid spectacle ever
performed in a church. For more than a theatrical spectacle it was not
to the surrounding crowd: not a sign of emotion or spiritual elevation
was to be seen among the many thousand spectators! The appearance of
a spectacle got up for amusement was more especially given to it by
the circumstance that for the accommodation of the high personages who
were present--the king of Spain, the queen of Etruria, the princes
of Prussia, Gotha and others--a sumptuously decorated box had been
erected, and, that upon the amphitheatre the fashionable world of Rome
was present in full dress. A singular contrast with this splendour was
presented by the rags and dirt of the riff-raff of the Roman populace
who had pressed to the very step of the high altar. As the “service”
became tediously long, and what the singers sang was neither very
interesting, nor could be heard distinctly for the noise in the church,
we preferred to take a walk, as the weather was so mild and bright, but
returned in sufficient time to the church to see the procession, which
forms the close to the whole performance.

In front moved a detachment of the body-guard, behind these the
Cardinal’s hat was carried upon a sword; then came the Cardinals,
and lastly the Pope seated upon a richly decorated sedan or throne
borne by eight priests; on either side of him two large fans of white
ostrich feathers; then all the clergy, and lastly the remainder of
the body-guard and Swiss guards. During the procession, the Pope,
a venerable old man of 75, on whose pale and interesting face the
exhausting influence of frequent fast and of the long fatiguing service
were very distinctly visible, bestowed with a feeble motion of the
hand his blessing upon the people. But the latter shewed during this
no sign of devotion; not a knee was bent; there was laughing and loud
talking during the whole service. The procession passed out through a
side chapel into the Vatican. The immense size of the church could be
first rightly seen to-day, from the mass of human beings which it held.
It was full half an hour before they could make their exit through
three large doors.

  December 27.

Yesterday, at last the theatres were once more opened, after being
closed six months. At the _Argentino_ theatre, the largest and
handsomest, _Rossini’s_ “Tancredi” was performed, at the theatre
_Valle_, a new _Opera buffa_ by Signor _Pietro Romano_, called “Il
Quiproquo.” As “Tancredi” is an old opera, the first night of which
is not more interesting than the succeeding ones, _Meyerbeer_ easily
persuaded me to go with him to the _Valle_ theatre, while my wife and
the children, with Madame _Beer_, went to the _Argentino_ theatre.
Before the opera a farce in prose was given, imitated from our German
“Proberollen.” Then came the first act of the opera, the text of
which we soon recognised as an adaptation of the “_Nouveau Seigneur
de Village_.” The subject, though spun out somewhat too much, was
neither so stupid nor so wearisome as those of most Italian operas.
But so much the more insipid and common-place is the music. Signor
_Romano_ has taken the now so much admired _Rossini_ as his model,
and so closely imitated him, or rather copied him outright, that the
pit called out every moment “_Bravo Rossini!_” With that his music is
so incorrect, that an ear accustomed to a pure harmony cannot hear it
without disgust. Nevertheless that was no injury to it here, but much
more so its want of fire and noise, the last of which the Italians are
as fond of as the French and Germans. Once only, after a duet, the pit
called out the encouraging and joyful “_Bravo Maestro!_” for which he
immediately made a most profound bow. All the rest was listened to
with coldness, and at the conclusion of the opera neither approval
nor displeasure was expressed. The singers were by no means sure of
their parts, and were continually making mistakes. Madame _Georgi_,
the _prima donna_, who in the previous carnival had been the favorite
of the public, did not please much yesterday, and had the annoyance of
seeing the _seconda donna_, who certainly did not sing badly, called
forward after her aria in the second act, an honour which had not
fallen to her lot all the evening. She shewed her displeasure at this
by singing the rest of her part with the utmost indifference and
with half-voice only, by which however she injured the last finale
very much, and was perhaps the cause of the opera’s going off so
coldly, and of the report which prevails in the town to-day, that she
had not given satisfaction. The orchestra, composed for the most part
of the professors (!) who had played at my concert, played crudely,
incorrectly and without any sort of difference between piano and forte.

This morning there was another private music party at Count
_Apponyi’s_. Nothing else scarcely was sung but things from _Rossini’s_
operas, of which a terzette, from “Elisabetha,” if I am not mistaken,
pleased me most, on account of the excellent treatment of the voices.
The more I hear of _Rossini’s_ compositions, the more I am disposed
to join _in part_ with the general opinion, which pronounces him the
most distinguished of modern Italian composers, and as a reformer of
the taste in operatic style. _Mayer_ may nevertheless with propriety
be excepted, who has, if not so much imagination as _Rossini_, yet,
certainly, more knowledge and æsthetic feeling. That the latter is
wanting in knowledge of harmony, delineation of character, sense of the
difference between the serious and comic style, and of propriety, I
observed already in Florence, after hearing the “Italiana in Algeria.”
_Rossini_, however, has devised _some quite new things_, although
they are not necessarily good because they are new: for instance his
“flowery song,” as _Meyerbeer_ very characteristically calls it, which
in reality is nothing more than that the passages hitherto sung on
one vowel are sung with a series of syllables, as in an aria in the
“Italiana”:

[Music]

or in a duet between a tenor and a bass in the same opera, where
the part for the second voice is very unsingable and more like an
orchestral bass than a singing bass:[24]

[24] As I do not know the text, I have appended dots for the syllables.

[Music]

Every time such little tricky passages occur, and are well executed by
the singers, as to-day by _Moncade_ especially, the auditory breaks out
into an ecstasy of applause which causes Italian music to degenerate
more and more into a mere tickling of the ears and both singers and
composer; become every day less capable in use of working upon the
feelings; so that I may say without exaggeration, that of all the
compositions we have yet heard in Italy, I have not experienced the
least emotion, with the exception of one or two passages in the “Testa
di bronzo”; and of all the singers we have yet heard, Madame _Häser_
alone, in a duet from the old “Passione” of _Paisiello_ moved me for a
few seconds.

Likewise new, and first introduced by _Rossini_, is the way in which
the speaking passages in the _Opera buffa_, hitherto usually written in
one tone, or at least at very close intervals only, and formerly always
given _legato_, are provided with syllables, as for instance in the
beginning of the above duet:

[Music]

Well known as this commencement is (it resembles the beginning of a
finale in a quartett of _Haydn_ in E flat-major):

[Music]

yet his method of giving it with the different syllables of the text
in this manner is quite new; but whether good or not, is still the
question; to me it always sounded as though travestied, as if, for
instance, a song which admits of a feeling execution were executed upon
a singing instrument and for fun’s sake so caricatured that it excited
laughter instead of emotion. At any rate no instrumentalist of taste
would play the above song _staccato_.

The following and similar _crescendo_ passages are also peculiar _to
Rossini_, they appear in almost all his musical pieces, and the Italian
public are thrown into ecstasies by them; for instance, in the overture
to the “Italiana.”

[Music]

In this manner it continues for a while, until at length at the
strongest _forte_, the public break out into a furious clapping of
hands and shouts of “Bravo!” In fact it can so little resist such a
_crescendo_, that even the luckless imitators of _Rossini_, like Signor
_Romano_ in the opera last night, understood how to draw down a storm
of applause by it. That such passages are frequently very incorrect and
offensive from the passing notes occurring in them, it is not necessary
for me to remark; even in the celebrated cavatina from “Tancredi,” so
enthusisiastically admired throughout Italy, and which was also sung
to-day, there are in the very first bars the most hideous-sounding
octaves, between the bass and the second hautboy, that I ever heard.

[Music]

The first result of my judgment of _Rossini_ is, therefore, that
he is by no means wanting in invention and genius and with those
qualifications had he been scientifically educated, and led to the
only right way by _Mozart’s_ classical masterpieces, he might readily
have become one of the most distinguished composers of vocal-music of
our day, but, as he now writes, he will not raise Italian music, but
much rather lower it. In order to be new, _Rossini_ departs more and
more from the simple and grand style of song of former days, and does
not reflect that in so doing he wholly robs the voice of its charm
and advantages, and actually debases it, when he forces it to execute
passages and fioritures, which every petty instrumentalist can produce
much purer, and especially much _more connected_, because he has no
need to express a syllable every time on the third or fourth note. With
his “flowery song,” however much it may please, he is therefore in a
fair way to make a clearance of all _real_ song which is already now
very scarce in Italy, and in which the despicable horde of Imitators,
who here as well as in Germany pursue their pitiful calling, are doing
their best to assist him.

  December 29.

Last evening I went with _Meyerbeer_ to hear “Tancredi” at the
_Argentino_ theatre. I never witnessed a more wretched performance. The
singers, with the exception of _Paris_ the elder, are very _mediocre_;
the _prima donna_, the younger _Paris_, is yet quite a beginner,
the _basso_ was frightful, the orchestra worse than in the smallest
provincial town in Germany, and in a word, it is an assemblage of folks
such as had all Italy been ransacked for the purpose, it would have
been difficult to find worse. God help the composer whose work falls
into such hands! They disfigured it in such a manner that one can no
longer recognise it. The only one person who distinguished herself,
was the elder _Paris_, who, in the part of “Tancredi,” displayed a
powerful, healthy contralto voice and a cultivated execution. It
would be unjust after such a representation to pass judgment upon the
opera, and the more so, as several passages were omitted and others
substituted. The ballet which was given between the acts, was quite
of a piece with the rest: a serious ballet executed by a number of
grotesque dancers! But among these were some men, who made themselves
remarkable by the power, and agility and by springs of all kinds.

During the last week we have again seen many interesting things;
the museum of the Capitol, in which the dying gladiator and several
Egyptian statues pleased me most--the latter less remarkable for
artistic beauty than for singularity; the picture gallery in the
_Doria_ palace, which contains among many other remarkable pictures,
four beautiful landscapes by _Claude Lorrain_; another gallery in
the _Colonna_ palace, in which hangs an extremely beautiful head of
_Raphael_; the handsome and richly decorated churches of _Santa Maria
Maggiore_ and _St. Giovanni in Laterano_, &c. From the portal of the
latter one has an extensive view in the direction of Albano, which with
the ancient aqueducts, which the eye can follow for miles, and other
remains of ancient Roman architecture, possesses much romantic interest.

On Sunday evening, the weather being very clear, we ascended the
dome of St. Peter’s church. The ascent is at first by a footway of a
spiral form without steps as far as the roof of the church. Arrived
there once fancies one’sself again in the streets of a town, for the
ground is paved, and a number of houses, some of which are inhabited,
together with numerous small and large cupolas, prevent a view into the
distance. But if you walk up to the gigantic statues over the portal
of the church, you then see at how great a height you are standing.
The pavement of the square in front of the church looks like a minute
mosaic, and the people little puppets creeping about upon it. On
looking up to the dome from here, it looks like an enormous isolated
building; from the first interior gallery one has also to mount to a
considerable height before one arrives at the second, where the first
swell of the dome begins. The view from these galleries, particularly
from the second, down into the church is quite _sui generis_, and makes
one positively shudder. The hundred lamps which burn right under the
dome at the entrance of the subterranean chapel, seem to mingle as in
one flame, and the human beings below appear like moving black spots.
From the second gallery one then ascends between the inner and exterior
dome by wooden steps up to the lantern, from which one has again a view
down into the church that makes the head turn. From here a flight of
winding stone steps once more leads up into a tolerably large chamber
situated in the top of the lantern, and thence at length ascending an
iron ladder, one passes through the shaft to the ball, which is large
enough to contain from twelve to sixteen persons.

The foolhardy can ascend yet higher, by a ladder outside the ball, up
into the cross, but we were quite satisfied with having been as high
as the ball. The view from the external galleries is magnificent and
varied beyond description. Below, proud Rome with its inummerable
palaces, ruins, columns and obelisks; around it the villas.

In the distance the mountain near Tivoli and Albano, above which are
seen the peaks of snow-covered mountains, and far away on the west the
Mediterranean, which at the time of the day we ascended the dome looked
like a fiery stripe in the distant sky. After we had long enjoyed this
entrancing view, we descended and found that two hours had passed very
rapidly in the ascent of the dome.

We also went up the high column on the _Piazza Colonna_, and from its
summit, which rises high above all the houses, enjoyed one of the
finest views of Rome and its immediate environs.

  December 30.

I have acquired the conviction that the Italians, even in modern
times, are not wanting in natural abilities for the study of the fine
arts, and indeed, that on the whole they surpass therein the northern
nations. Almost all their singers have a happy ear for intonation,
and the faculty of immediately seizing and repeating a melody once
heard; although but very few of them, even among the theatrical singers
possess _what we call music_, and most of them scarcely even know their
notes. At the last musical party at _Apponyi’s_ there was a Canon
of _Cherubini’s_ to be sung, in which _Moncade_ who, as I had been
told, is one of the singers who cannot read music, although formerly
a theatrical singer, was solicited to take a part. As he willingly
assented to sing something that he did not know, I immediately thought
that in his case at least what I had heard was untrue. The Countess
first sang the slow melody consisting of eight bars and _Moncade_
repeated it note for note with all the little ornaments which she had
added. But when his part began, he could get no farther: nevertheless,
he did not permit himself to be disconcerted, but sang away by ear,
which certainly sometimes did not sound much like music by _Cherubini_.
When, however, the third singer, who also had no music before him,
began, after his first simple entry in the second part, also to
compose, such confusion and discord arose that they were obliged to
leave off. Both singers declared very ingenuously that they had hoped,
they would have accomplished it; like the Englishman who, when he was
asked if he played the violin, replied: “It is possible, but I have
never yet tried.”

Among the lower uneducated classes of the people, a remarkable genius
for painting is by no means rare here, which is awakened by the early
contemplation of the public works of art. In this manner the attention
of the painters here has been attracted for the last year and more by
the extraordinary artistic talent of a lad in the streets. This boy,
without ever having had the least instruction, draws large historical
sketches in charcoal upon the white walls of the houses, and there is
scarcely a street in which some of his artistic work is not to be seen.

Sometimes he chooses for his subject a Madonna, or some legend, at
others a Roman triumph. But in no one instance has he ever copied
from any existing subject, or even repeated himself; his fancy
constantly creates something new. Some of these sketches excite the
greatest astonishment by the richness of the composition, comprising
frequently more than thirty or forty figures, and by the correctness
of the drawing. The most remarkable to me is the certainty with which
he throws off and depicts his ideas. You see no double stroke in the
contours--nothing wiped out--everything stands there at once clear and
prominent. When he draws he is always surrounded by a crowd of people,
who look on with gratification at the skill he displays; but he is so
deeply engrossed with his work, that he heeds neither the surrounding
spectators nor their remarks. I have been told that _Canova_ took this
lad, with the view of developing his talent; but that regular kind of
life did not all please him, and he soon ran away.

  January 1. 1817.

The new year has begun very unpleasantly for us. This morning _Emily_
was taken suddenly ill. The doctor thinks she will have the scarlet
fever; should that be the case, we shall be obliged to postpone our
departure for Naples, which we had fixed for the 7th, for at least a
fortnight. Added to the annoyance of remaining here yet longer without
any object and in anxiety, is that of being compelled to see our
fellow-countrymen with whom we had contemplated making the journey
together depart alone, and that also of missing the opening of the St.
Carlo theatre at Naples, which is to take place on the 12th. To console
ourselves for the latter we shall meanwhile hear the new opera of
_Rossini_, which he is writing for the _Valle_ theatre, and the début
of Madame _Schönberger_ at the _Argentino_.

  January 3.

Not only _Emily_, but _Ida_ also has caught the scarlet fever, and now
for a certainty we shall not be able to leave before the 20th. Both
children were very ill for some days, and my good _Dorette_ has been
extremely alarmed and anxious. I have kept up my spirits and amused
myself in inventing some puzzle-canons and have now began to write a
new solo-quartett.

I should so much have liked to make _Rossini’s_ acquaintance; but
before he has finished his opera this is quite out of the question. The
impressario, in whose house he lives, neither permits him to go out
nor to receive visits, so that he may not neglect his work. Should his
opera not be brought out before our departure, I shall probably not be
able to see him.

  January 18.

The children have recovered sooner than we had anticipated, and we have
fixed to leave for Naples the day after to-morrow.

Last Thursday I went again to _Sirletti’s_, and yesterday to the
morning concert at Count _Apponyi’s_; at neither place, however, was
any thing played worth particular notice, with the exception of a fine
quartett by _Mayer_ and a duet from a comic opera of _Fioravanti_.
_Mayer_ is remarkable for scrupulously correct harmony, regularity of
rhythm and a good treatment of the voices in part compositions, and
surpasses therein all modern Italians. The duet out of _Fioravanti_
more particularly interested me from the circumstance that it is also
adorned with the modern so-called “flowery song,” from which I find
that _Rossini_ is neither the first nor only one who makes use of it.
I begin moreover to judge him more favourably, as long as he does not
venture beyond the limits of _comic_ opera, and when his music is as
gracefully executed as by the Countess _Apponyi_ and _Moncade_.

       *       *       *       *       *

On the 20th January we left Rome. The _Campagna di Roma_ is as little
cultivated on this side as on the other; the road as far as Albano
derives nevertheless much interest from the many antiquities seen on
the way. The numerous remains of three or four old Roman acqueducts
give a particularly romantic aspect to the country round. One of the
acqueducts, which was less injured, has been repared in later times,
and still serves to supply Rome with water upon this side.

While our _vetturino_ was baiting his horses at Albano, I ascended the
mountain upon which the lake of Albano is situated. The view across it
towards Rome is exceedingly beautiful. Below at one’s feet is seen the
lake with its high precipitous banks thickly covered with trees and
underwood; upon the right a long building, the use of which I do not
know; to the left, upon the high steep bank, Castel Gandolfo, and in
the extreme distance the mass of houses of Rome. The form of the lake
and of its high precipitous banks indicates plainly that it has been
formed by the falling in of a burnt-out crater.

The road from Albano to the little dirty town of Velletri, where we
took up our first night-quarters, presents a great variety of scenery.

On the second day we crossed the Pontine marshes, which extend from
Velletri to Terracina, a distance of four and twenty Italian miles.
We did not find them so desolate and barren as we expected, for one
has always a sight of the mountains on the left, and here and there
of even a few patches of cultivated land. The numerous herds of oxen,
buffaloes, swine, and in the dry parts, of sheep also, give some life
to the uniformity of the level. But houses are of rare occurrence,
and the inhabitants have always a pale unhealthy appearance. In the
heat of summer the exhalations from the marshes are very dangerous,
even to travellers who do but cross them, particularly if they abandon
themselves to sleep, to which one is greatly induced by the uniformity
of the road. Only last summer a young lady who could not resist the
disposition to sleep inhaled death here, and was carried off by a
malignant fever three days after her arrival in Naples. Such cases are
not unfrequent in summer.

At _Torre a tri ponti_, a solitary hostelry, all the inmates of which
looked as if they had just risen from their graves, we dined, and had
very excellent meat, and roast ducks and geese, of which there are
swarms in the uncultivated parts of the marshes.

Terracina, where we arrived at night-fall is most charmingly situated.
The town stands upon a wild rocky eminence, but we stopped below at a
very excellent inn close to the sea. From our windows we had a view of
the sea, and on the following morning enjoyed the magnificent sight
of the rising sun. Close below our windows, the waves broke with
considerable noise, although during the previous day the wind had not
been high. The air was as mild as after a warm summer’s day in Germany,
and in the evening late we saw the fishermen launch their barks through
the surf by moonlight, to cast their nets.

On the next morning we had to pass through the most dangerous part of
the whole journey, from being the most infested with banditti. This
part is between Terracina and Fondi, where the road lies through a
thinly inhabited country and almost always between masses of low bushes
in which the scoundrels easily conceal themselves, and can shoot down
travellers and their escort from an ambuscade without being perceived.
It is here where the most robberies are perpetrated, and but recently
only some travellers were again attacked. But the government has at
length taken earnest measures to suppress this. We found several
hundred peasants employed in cutting down all the bushes on both sides
of the road and burning them; and we met several strong detachments of
soldiers, sent out to hunt up the banditti in their fastnesses. From
twenty to thirty have already been brought in and hung up with little
ceremony. On this side of the Neapolitan frontiers we met a picquet of
soldiers at intervals of every quarter of an hour, which bivouacked on
the side of the road and sent out patrols during the night.

At Fondi, a poor dirty looking hole, where we were almost torn to
pieces by beggars, we saw the first gardens of lemons, pomegranates and
oranges. We took a walk through the town and were delighted with the
sight of the splendid trees, which were loaded with the finest fruit.
In the gardens and in the market we saw fine fresh vegetables, such as
cauliflowers, savoy-cabbages, carrots, &c. But at noon the heat was so
great, that we were obliged to seek the shade.

We passed the night at Molo di Gaëta, also a small town situate close
to the sea. From the windows of our inn in the evening we saw the
fishermen put out to sea by torchlight to fish. Between Molo and Santa
Agata we saw a great number of evergreen shrubs and plants, which do
not grow even in the north of Italy, and upon the rocks several kinds
of aloes, such as we grow in greenhouses. Several other shrubs which
are also indigenous with us were already in their first leaf. On the
road-side the air was perfumed by the violets, and the fields with the
blossoms of the beans.

Capua, where we passed the last night of our journey, is a handsome
town with fine buildings. We supped in the evening with two Austrian
officers, who told us among other things, that they did not bury people
in Capua, but threw them down a hole about a mile from the town, which
was unfathomly deep, but was believed to have a communication with the
sea, as after some lapse of time one could hear the bodies of those who
were thrown down fall into the water.

The road from Capua to Naples is the most uninteresting of the whole
journey. Nothing else is to be seen on either side of the road but
high mulberry trees and pendant vines, both now without leaves. At two
o’clock in the afternoon we at length arrived at the long-wished for
Naples, and found a lodging which had been already engaged and prepared
for us by one of our fellow-countrymen.

END OF THE FIRST VOLUME.




  _Naples_, January 1.

Naples, although not remarkable for beautiful architecture, is, from
its situation and many peculiarities, one of the most beautiful cities
of the world. On coming from Rome, one certainly misses the grander
taste in architecture and other works of decorative art formed upon
and refined by the study of the antique, which for ages has rendered
that city the most interesting of all others to the architect, the
sculptor and the painter; but one is compensated for that in Naples
by other advantages that Rome has not. To an inhabitant of northern
lands, the city presents from its amphitheatrical position a most
imposing spectacle, and with its flat roofs covered with party-coloured
and lacquered tiles, its cupolas and towers, it has a very novel and
oriental appearance. It is moreover one of the most lively cities of
the world, at least one of the most noisy; for although Vienna and
Hamburg, the two most populous cities that I have yet seen, may have
proportionately as many inhabitants as Naples, yet the latter, partly
from its southern liveliness, and partly from the circumstance that
here all classes idle away more time in the streets than they work at
home, is much more animated than those cities. The noise in the streets
is positively great beyond description, and until one has become
somewhat accustomed to it, one is completely deafened by it. All the
mechanics pursue their calling in the streets: blacksmiths, locksmiths,
copper-smiths, carpenters, tailors and shoemakers--all alike sit in
front of their houses variously intermingled, and work. Added to that
the rattling of the carts and vehicles, which in the principal streets
almost always move on two lines, the wild cries of itinerant vendors,
always endeavouring to undersell each other, and lastly the animated
language and gestures of those who meet, or converse in the streets,
who to a German seem as though they were in violent dispute, although
they are perhaps merely talking of the weather or some unimportant
piece of news or town gossip. But more striking than in any other city
of the world is the contrast between the luxury in the equipages and
dress of the higher classes, and the dirt and nakedness of the lower
ones, particularly of the so-called Lazzaroni. Of these whole families
are to be seen lying in the streets in the midst of the _beau monde_,
looking for vermin upon their half-naked bodies. A more disgusting
sight I never beheld! And yet before _Murat’s_ time, who made soldiers
of all the able-bodied Lazzaroni, these vagabonds were far more
numerous.

  February 3.

Yesterday we made our first excursion. In company with our Silesian
fellow-countrymen, Herren _von Raumer_, _von Lattorf_, _Hagen_
and _Kruse_, we first drove out to Portici to see the museum.
Here, in a suite of apartments, are preserved the paintings and
interior-decorations found in Herculaneum and Pompeii, from whence they
have been taken from the walls with the plaster, and are here hung up
in frames with glass doors. Of the greater part of them the colours
are in excellent preservation, especially a very fine red. The room
or interior decorations, consisting of arabesques, small landscapes,
and the figures of animals, are almost all well painted. The larger
historical paintings taken from temples and public buildings have great
artistic merit, and are remarkable both for drawing and colour. Some of
these are in a wonderful state of preservation, and appear as though
they had been painted but recently. Besides these paintings, there is
in another room a collection of a variety of metal utensils, a helmet,
and some vases in pottery, with different kinds of grain, partly burnt
by the glowing ashes, such as wheat, barley, Indian corn, beans, &c.
&c. These different kinds of grain are readily recognised, and we
found them quite similar to our own in size and form. All the other
antiquities which were formerly preserved here have been transferred to
Naples, and it is intended to transfer the paintings there also.

As the weather was extremely fine, we felt a great disposition to
make the ascent of mount Vesuvius without loss of time. But as it
was almost impossible for women and children to climb the last steep
ascent, _Dorette_ and the children returned to Naples, accompanied by
Herr _Kruse_. We others hired some asses for the journey and return,
at the extremely low charge of four Carlini (about 15-1/2d.), and set
out at 12 o’clock at noon. At first the road lies through vineyards
for about the distance of an hour and a half’s journey, and with but a
gentle ascent only; but the road begins already to be difficult, being
very uneven and stony. We saw several vineyards enclosed with large
bush-aloes instead of hedges. After the lapse of an hour and a half
we came to a plain which spread away before us like a desolate waste,
as far as the proper base of the volcano. Not a vestige of vegetation
met the eye; on every side nothing but masses of lava piled upon each
other! Our path now turned leftward across the plain towards a mountain
ridge, which rises like an island out of the midst of this fearful
wilderness. On this stands the so-called hermitage, a building of two
stories high, where we refreshed ourselves with bread, wine, cheese and
fruits, and enjoyed the fine and now tolerably extensive view. After a
short rest, in company with ten Englishmen whom we met here, we resumed
the road, which still continues to run over the summit of the ridge as
far as the crater. This part of the way is the least difficult, leading
for some distance through bushes of sweet chesnuts, the plain covered
with black lava stretching away before the eye. After half an hour’s
progress we reached the steepest part of the ridge, at the foot of
which we were obliged to leave the asses. Now began the difficult part
of our work. Treading upon deep ashes without solid bottom, at every
footstep one slips back so far, that one has often scarcely advanced
an inch; and the mountain is here so steep, that one is obliged to
use the hands as well for progression. Fortunately a ridge of solid
lava extends downwards almost from the whole height, and rises like
a ridge of rock from out of the ashes. When one has reached this,
the toil is less, as the ground beneath has again become firm. But
were one obliged, as at first, to wade always through the ashes, it
would require a whole day to make the ascent of this height alone.
Nevertheless it took a good hour to accomplish it, although we set out
from our resting place with recruited strength, and with the hope of
soon reaching the summit. On reaching the top, we saw again a small
plain before us, from which in several places between the lava-rocks a
white sulphurous steam ascended. The ground here was more or less hot
and our footsteps produced a hollow sound. After we had passed rapidly
over this we had to climb another though a lower height, and then
beheld at a moderate distance before us the two craters, which were
now vomiting fire. We sat down upon the ground between the lava-rocks
and found ourselves as though sitting in a heated stove, for a great
heat rose from the earth, which was nevertheless very agreeable to
us. After we had rested here some time, some one of the company asked
whether one could not ascend between the two cones close to the brink
of the crater? All the guides replied in the negative, and assured us
it was very dangerous to approach it nearer. We saw sufficiently well
ourselves that it would be impossible to ascend direct from the place
where we stood, as we should have run the risk of being stifled with
the smoke of the crater upon our left. But it seemed to us that a way
might possibly be found round the left side of one crater, from which
we could ascend on the windward side of the other; so we immediately
proceeded to make the trial together; after some objections our guides
followed also. We had scarcely proceeded a distance of two hundred
paces, when one of the craters with a fearful report threw out a
quantity of red-hot stones, some of which fell at no great distance
from us. This soon brought the whole party to a standstill; but after
some little hesitation the foremost proceeded onward and the rest of us
followed. In this manner, after a toilsome passage, we reached the rear
of the left-hand crater, and then began to ascend the cone. But this
was the most laborious task of the whole day, for we had now to climb
a very steep incline up to our knees in ashes. Nevertheless, after
great exertion we reached the summit and stood on the narrow edge of
the crater, which, in the form of a funnel, is about two hundred feet
in diameter at the upper part of the opening. After we had taken breath
here awhile, and contemplated the eruptions of the other crater, which
lay before us to leeward, the one close to which we were standing,
became suddenly quite clear of smoke, and we could look down into the
awful abyss. We there saw large cavernous fissures between the masses
of rock forming the neck of the funnel, out of which flames burst at
intervals; but as these were immediately followed by smoke, this sight
was of short continuance only. One of the Englishmen of our party
took it into his head, at a moment when the smoke of the crater upon
the brink of which we were standing was somewhat less, to run across
even to the other, in order to look down into it. But scarcely had he
reached the brink, when an eruption, though fortunately not a very
strong one, took place, from which he had barely time to save himself,
and rush back again to us. At the same moment a third crater behind us
began to make a noise, and it was now indeed high time that we should
make our retreat. Though it was ashes merely that it threw up, yet by
the timely fear with which it filled us, it was our saviour from utter
destruction; for scarcely had we reached our old halting-place than the
hitherto very quiet crater on the brink of which we had stood, threw
out such a mass of red hot stones, exactly in the direction of the
place where we had stood, that we should all have been struck down and
overwhelmed by them had we stopped there five minutes longer. After our
daring party had recovered from the terror which had seized upon all,
we were compelled to avow our extreme rashness in having ventured to
ascend so high despite the warnings of our guides.

We now once more bivouaked upon our warm place, and recruited our
spirits with the provisions we had brought with us. But with night
drawing on, far away from every living creature, and surrounded on
all sides by desolation, it was a fearful reflexion to think that we
sat here suspended as it were over a sea of fire, upon a perhaps not
very thick crust, which sooner or later might give way beneath us.
Several of our party made the observation, that it was indeed a mad
piece of folly to have risked life upon chances so eminently possible,
for the mere gratification of an idle curiosity. But these reflexions
nevertheless did not prevent us from enjoying with much relish the eggs
our guides had brought with them and cooked in the hot ashes, and which
we washed down with a draught of delicious _Lacrymæ Christi_.

We here awaited the approach of night; saw the sun sink below the sea,
and the full moon rise behind the craters, her yellow light forming a
beautiful contrast with the red flames that issued from them. On our
right we saw at the same time the reflexion from the burning lava which
poured from an opening in the side of the mountain, which however it
was impossible to approach without the greatest danger.

About seven o’clock we set out upon our return, which at first, from
our being obliged to descend on the shaded side of the mountain was
on account of the darkness both very difficult and dangerous. But
when we arrived at the precipitous places, our guides led back us by
another way, where we slid down with giant steps over deep ashes. Below
we found our asses, upon which we rode to Portici by a magnificent
moonlight. At ten o’clock at night we arrived once more at Naples,
highly gratified with the extremely interesting day’s adventures.

  February 7.

During the constant fine spring weather we daily take a walk to see
the immediate environs of the city. The favorite walk of the children
is to the quay, on which is the light-house, partly because the busy
life in the port itself, as well as the sight of the different kinds
of vessels, from the ship of war mounting a hundred guns down to the
fisherman’s boat, affords them immense pleasure, and partly because
the way leading to it presents the most lively picture of the habits
and occupations of the lower classes. From the St. Carlo theatre to
the harbour there is, next to the Toledo-street, always the greatest
crowd; at a short distance from which are all the small hole-and-corner
theatres, where performances take place all the day long and where,
upon a platform outside, a couple of fiddlers and a merry-Andrew
constantly invite the passers-by to enter. Between these are the booths
of the itinerant vendors, who, perched upon a table, recommend their
medicaments to their numerous listeners and purchasers. Upon the quay,
where there is no noise from the carts and carriages, the puppet-show
players pitch their portative theatres, and the _Improvisatori_
entertain the Neapolitans with the heroic feats of their ancestors.
Sometimes one of these reads aloud to his auditory and then explains
what he has been reading. But here also swarm the most impudent and
disgusting beggars, and the most expert pick-pockets; so that one
cannot be too careful how one gets mixed up with them. On my first
walks into that quarter I lost my pocket handkerchief each time. If one
waits here till the evening the Vesuvius, with its red fire, presents a
singular and magnificent contrast with the white lights of the Pharos.

The Royal garden on the Chiaja is also another very interesting walk.
It extends for a considerable length close to the sea, and consists of
three very broad alleys with small flower-beds laid out in the English
style. It is ornamented with several fine statues and groups in marble;
in the centre stands the celebrated Farnesian Bull, a splendid antique
by a Greek master; on both sides are several fine copies of ancient
works of art, such as that of the Apollo of Belvedere, the rape of the
Sabines, &c. &c. From eleven in the forenoon on fine days, the _beau
monde_ assembles here to look and to be looked at. If one proceeds
still farther along the Chiaja, one soon comes to the road that leads
through the Grotto of Pausilippo to Puzzuoli. This long gallery,
extending at least for a thousand paces right through a mountain of
considerable height, is very remarkable of its kind, for the galleries
cut through the rocks in the road over the Simplon are but child’s
play compared to this work. The entrance on this side between towering
rocks is exceedingly romantic; at a great distance off the noise of the
carriages driving through resembles thunder, and it is said that at
night, when all is quiet here, the sound of the vehicles in the streets
of Naples, is echoed through this rocky gallery like that of distant
thunder. The interior is lighted day and night with numerous lamps.
At the entrance and in the middle are little chapels, at which the
passengers are solicited for alms. Above the entrance high up on the
rocks, a small grotto is pointed out, where the immortal poet Virgil
lies buried.

A few days ago we visited also Fort St. Elmo, from which one has an
extensive view over the whole city and of the expansive bay.

  February 12.

Last evening we returned from a delightful excursion to the islands.
On Sunday at noon, in company with our three Silesian countryman, we
went across to Ischia in a hired boat. We were at first obliged to
sail round the promontary of Pausilippo: Nisida and Procida lay quite
close to us, Cape Micen somewhat in the background, and Ischia at
a greater distance, in a direct line before us. These islands and
promontories with their steep, and towering rocks close to the sea,
and the rich fertility of their interior, present every moment and on
every side on which they are beheld new aspects of varying interest,
now of a beautiful and now of a bolder and grander character. Procida,
in particular, one of the most populated spots of the whole world,
presents a magnificent view from the sea, the whole island having
the appearance of a large city. As the wind blew tolerably fresh and
against us, night came on before we could reach Ischia. But the beauty
of the evening would not permit us to regret our having been delayed.
The stars shone with a brightness such as in Germany at least they are
never seen to shine with; and Venus in particular was resplendent with
so clear a light that its beams were reflected in the sea like those of
the moon, and one could plainly discern a shadow from any intervening
object. The sea, also, at every stroke of the oar shone as with the
light of myriads of glowworms. About eight o’clock we at length landed
at the north shore of the island and found a comfortable night-lodging
in the handsome house of a clergyman.

On the next morning we soon set out upon our way to see the interior
of the island and to ascend the Epomeo. As at Ischia there are neither
vehicles nor roads to travel on, we all mounted upon asses, which
carried us more conveniently and safely over the rocky and uneven
ground. After passing through several level tracts in the highest
cultivation we came to the small but lively town of Ischia, on the
sea-shore, and onward to the foot of the Epomeo between vineyards to
the opposite side of the mountain, where it is more convenient to
climb. After we had ascended about half-way by very bad roads, we
halted for an hour to rest and refresh the animals, and then completed
the other still more toilsome part of the ascent. Meanwhile the sky had
unfortunately become overcast with clouds, and upon reaching the summit
of the mountain we were enveloped in a thick mist. We then entered a
hermitage of some size, consisting of several rooms and passages,
and of a chapel. It resembles that at Freiburg in Switzerland, and
like that also is hewn out of the solid rock, by two industrians
recluses. We waited here some time in the hope that the weather would
clear up, and several times also we had a glimpse between the clouds
over the level parts of the island, which lay like a map outspread in
the distance before us; but Naples, Capri, and Sorrento were veiled
from our sight. We were at length obliged to set out on our way once
more, without having had the pleasure of enjoying the fine view from
here, which is perhaps one of the finest in the world, and had already
considered our toilsome journey as a labour in vain, when on a sudden,
after we had descended somewhat lower and stood under the stratum of
clouds, the magnificent view of the whole of the islands, promontories
and bay, with Vesuvius smoking in the background, displayed itself to
our enraptured eyes. Long we stood lost in admiration of the singular
beauty of the scene, and at length, when the setting sun gave token
of departure, we returned by the shortest but steepest road, where
we could make no use of the asses, to our quarter of the previous
night. The Epomeo, which 450 years ago was a volcano, exhibits on this
side, which is much more wild and barren than the other, numerous
traces of former eruptions. The road led now almost continually over
weather-worn lava. Upon the rocks we saw at very frequent intervals
the stock-gilliflower in bloom, which here and in the neighbourhood of
Naples grows wild. On the way-side violets and other plants, several
of which are not indigenous with us, were in full flower, and in the
gardens, the almond tree. At length we came to a place where there are
warm baths, which in summer are much frequented by the Neapolitans. At
the house of our host we found a plentifully spread table awaiting us,
which after all the fatigue of the day was exceedingly acceptable. A
fiery white Ischian wine of the year 1811 we found especially agreeable
to the palate.

We re-embarked the next morning at eight o’clock and landed first at
Cape Micenus, where we visited the large subterranean reservoirs of
soft water from which the Roman fleets were supplied, and the _cento
camere_ of Nero, which were probably prisons for the detention of
prisoners of war. We then sailed right across the bay to Puzzuoli, and
there made another pilgrimage to some antiquities. On running into
the harbour we sailed past the still standing piers and arches of the
bridge of _Caligula_, which that Emperor designed throwing across the
bay. Although built of bricks merely, such is the excellence of the
cement used in their construction, that their remains, after the lapse
of so many centuries, still bid defiance to the unceasing action of the
waves.

Our cicerone led us first to the Solfatara, a round level field-like
space enclosed on all sides with rocks, apparently a crater which at
some remote period had fallen in. The subterranean fire still burns
beneath, nevertheless, for in many places smoke issues out of the
earth, and as on Mount Vesuvius, deposits sulphur. At those places the
ground is burning hot, and the foot-tread sounds hollow. Our guide
flung a large stone upon the ground, which made it vibrate for a
considerable distance round us, and produced a very loud, hollow sound.
Thence we proceeded to another subterranean reservoir of water similar
to that at Cape Micenus; inspected the ruins of an amphitheatre and
several temples, and at last reached the most interesting antiquity
in the whole neighbourhood--the ruins of the temple of Serapis, close
to the sea-shore. So much has been written respecting all these
antiquities, that it would be superfluous to dwell upon them here, but
the remains of the temple of Serapis are so remarkable, and afford such
evidence of its former size and grandeur that to see them alone amply
repays a journey here. Towards the evening we drove back to Naples
through the grotto of Pausilippo.

  February 15.

As I have now been several times to the St. Carlo theatre, I can with
confidence put my judgment to paper respecting it. On the first visit
I experienced the same feeling as in the church of St. Peter: it did
not appear to me so large as it really is, and it was not until I had
been frequently told that it is four feet wider and I know not how many
longer than the theatre at Milan, that I could believe it. But when the
curtain drew up and I could compare the size of the human beings with
the painted objects of the decorations, I readily observed that here
also I had been deceived by the correct proportions of each gigantic
object. Here for the first time the horses introduced on the stage did
not appear out of proportion with the rest, and the people one saw
at the extreme depth of the theatre, were still in just proportion
with objects which surrounded them. For ballet and pantomine I know
of no better adapted locality, and military evolutions of infantry
and cavalry, battles, storms at sea, and such things can be produced
without falling into the ridiculous and the paltry; but for operas the
house is too large. Although the singers, Madame _Colbran_ and Signori
_Nozzari_, _Benedetti_, and others, have very powerful voices, yet
one hears only the highest notes given out with the full strain of
the voice; but all tender pathos in song is wholly lost. This is said
not to have been the case before the fire, and the theatre was then
quite as sonorous as _Della Scala_ at Milan. This prejudicial change
is ascribed to three causes first, the proscenium has been widened by
several feet; secondly, the ceiling is not so concave as formerly;
and thirdly, the high projecting decorations in stucco obstruct the
sound and do not send it back. If the house was in reality so sonorous
formerly, then they have greatly deadened that faculty in the new
building, and they would do very wisely to eject (the sooner the
better) all the unnecessary trumpery of ornament and gildings, which
besides is exceedingly heavy and not in the best taste, and so regain
the former advantages.

The first opera I saw was “_Gabriele de Vergi_,” by Count _Caraffa_,
who formerly was a dilettant merely, but now as a younger son without
means, is become an artiste, and as such strives to earn a subsistence.
The opera pleased me very much, but without being altogether
particularly attractive for me. The style is even and dignified,
but the orchestra is too much overladen, and the voice parts are too
much obscured. The execution was very precise, both on the part of
the singers and of the orchestra. The latter, under the correct and
spirited but somewhat too loud direction of Signor _Festa_, had studied
it well, but were somewhat wanting in _nuances_ of _piano_ and _forte_;
the wind instruments in particular are always too loud in the _piano_.
Of the singers nothing further can be said than that they have good
and powerful voices. Whether they have a good execution cannot be
ascertained in this theatre; for one hears them either singing at the
top of their voices, or one cannot hear them at all. After the opera
_Duport’s_ ballet of “Cinderella” was given, the decorations, costumes,
&c., of which were of a very expensive character. Besides _Duport_ and
his wife, the dancer _Vestris_ attracted much notice. The music was
nearly the same as that we heard in Vienna in that ballet; a polonaise
newly introduced by Count _Gallenberg_, the ballet-composer here,
pleased greatly from its originality and sweetness.

Another opera, also by a dilettant, Signor _Carlo Saccenti_, was given
a week ago, after a three months’ study and rehearsal. The king, who
is a great patron of the composer, had fixed on it for the opening
of the San Carlo theatre, and _Mayer_, who had been sent for here by
the impresario, to write a new opera for the occasion, was obliged
to keep his back. But as it was afterwards found that it would be
impossible to be perfect in it by the day appointed for the opening,
_Mayer_ was permitted to write a Cantata in all haste, with which
on the 12th January the theatre was at length opened. This cantata,
though written with great despatch, is said nevertheless, according
to the opinion of connoisseurs to contain a good deal of fine music;
but as the text or subject was the burning of the theatre, one little
calculated for composition, it could not well have been other than a
somewhat tame production. Nor could it be expected, with the little
attention given to it by the public, more occupied with the brilliant
illumination of the house and the splendour and Spanish etiquette which
the court displayed at the opening of the theatre, that the reception
given by the public to the cantata should have been other than a very
cold one. Nevertheless, it was not properly speaking a failure. After
this had been brought out, the study of _Saccenti’s_ opera was again
resumed. All that reached the public concerning these rehearsals was
very unfavourable. His friends said he had composed a work which from
its originality and excellence would produce a complete reform in
operatic compositions: the singers and musicians, on the other hand,
said that in all their lives they had never sung or played anything
more villanous, tedious and incorrect than that unfortunate opera. The
impartial conjectured that, as is usual with such conflicting opinions,
the truth would lie in the mean; but I soon satisfied myself, after
a few rehearsals which I attended, that the musicians were perfectly
right in the judgment they had formed of it. It would indeed be
scarcely possible to put together a more outrageous piece of music,
even if one strove expressly, and with the greatest industry to act
contrary to all the most approved rules of rhythm, structure of the
periods, harmony and instrumentation. There was no trace of song or
sensible carrying out of an idea; every third bar was something else,
with the most incorrect modulations. In the very beginning of the
introduction three ugly quints follow each other in quick succession.
One of the musicians from recollection said that the composer justified
it very ingeniously with the example of the English sailor who was
brought before a magistrate for having married three wives, but whom
the law could not reach as it forbade bigamy only, and made no mention
of trigamy; in the same manner, said the composer, it is forbidden to
have _two_ quints in succession, but by having _three_ the penalty
contemplated by the law was evaded.

After rehearsals innumerable, the representation took place in the
presence of the court and with a crowded house. Notwithstanding the
here prevailing formal Spanish etiquette, which commands that the
curtain shall be drawn up immediately the king enters the box and
which constrains the poor singers to exhibit themselves on the stage
during the whole duration of the overture, without being able to move
in the spirit of the characters they impersonate; and which moreover
forbids every demonstration of applause or of disapprobation; despite
this constraint, which impedes free judgment, the opera was hissed in
_optima forma_. On the following night it had the same fate, without
a single friend of the composer’s daring to clap a hand. With this
second representation, at which I was present, the opera was for ever
consigned to the tomb. It is called “Aganadeca;” its author is Signor
_Vincenzio de Ritis_. The subject, from _Ossian_, is said not to be
without merit, and it is regretted that it did not fall into the hands
of a better composer. The latter, however is not sensible of his own
deficiency; he ascribes its failure to the little musical judgment of
the Neapolitan public, and intends sending his work to Germany. May
Apollo and the muses bestow their blessings upon it!

  February 20.

The Carneval came to a close yesterday, and the fasts have begun.
After the noise of the last day of the carneval, the quiet which has
now succeeded does one really good, although the evenings are somewhat
dull, as all the theatres are closed for four days. At the St. Carlo
theatre instead of the customary oratorios this year operas will be
given as usual, but without ballets, which are wholly forbidden at this
season. At the _Fiorentino_ theatre we saw an opera of _Guglielmi_
(son), “_Paolo e Virgina_,” which met with some success. But the music
of the third act is quite Italian for insipidity, in which _Paul_,
during a storm at sea, sings an air in the usual form, and with the
usual insipid intermediate acting, exhausting himself in shakes and
passages, when he would act much more sensibly if he hastened to the
assistance of his loved one. This sea-storm without an appropriate
music was therefore the most ridiculous thing I ever saw at a theatre,
and solicited no sympathy for the whole affair from the spectators. It
is true the machinery also at this theatre was most mean and childish.
Among the singers Mesdames _Chabran_ and _Canonici_ distinguished
themselves greatly. The former has a fine soprano voice, great ease
of execution and a good school; the latter the same qualifications
with a powerful contralto voice. They had particularly well studied
their duets. In this theatre we found for the first time in Italy,
with a full house and a frequently repeated performance, a quiet and
sympathetic audience. The house is roomy and prettily decorated, but
the stage very small and narrow.

I had expected the end of the carneval to have been far more gay than
I found it. The whole amusement consisted in the crowding together
of half Naples, masked and unmasked, in vehicles and on foot in the
street of Toledo, where they moved up and down and pelted each other
with little balls of gypsum. The masks of the carriages were provided
for the purpose with whole baskets full of these little bullets, and
with shovels, so as to enable them to throw them up to the balconies.
They carried tin shields on the left arm, with which to ward off the
missiles of other maskers. As these were frequently of a tolerable size
and were thrown with full force, the fun frequently proved somewhat
rough for those persons who were not masked, and many a lady must
doubtless have taken home with her a few blue marks on her neck and
arm. Nevertheless all was borne with good humour and without dispute,
as the liberty conferred by the mask serves to excuse all impoliteness.
The masqued balls at the San Carlo theatre are said to have been
somewhat wearisome affairs; although there was no want of masks in
character, yet there was very little wit and ability to personate the
characters in accordance with the costume and manners of the period.

  February 26.

I have been twice to the conservatory of music. The first time I
was present at a practice concert of the pupils, in which several
overtures, or first themes of symphony composed by one of them, who
at the same is first violin also, were tried. They were not devoid
of fancy, but in form and instrumentation complete imitations of
the overtures of _Rossini_, which certainly are not calculated to
serve as models. The execution was but tolerable; the young folks,
particularly the violinists, have no school at all; they know neither
how they should hold the violin nor the bow, and play neither purely
nor distinctly. Nor can it be otherwise with the bad instruction they
receive. _Festa_, the only violinist here of a good school, is not
employed in the conservatory of music. It is highly reprehensible
that the young people are permitted to give their practise-concerts
without the superintendence and guidance of their instructors; their
first violin and director, who is himself still a pupil, is wholly
wanting in self possession and judgment. He bungles the allegro tempi
in such a manner that all distinctness is out of the question. Among
the wind instruments, a hornist, a lad of eleven years of age, is
very remarkable. On the occasion of the second concert at which I
was present, two singers made their appearance, who had neither good
voices nor a good method. All that I have yet heard, is far inferior
to what the Milan musical students can perform. Signor _Zingarelli_,
director of the conservatory here, and teacher of the theory of music
and singing may possess many qualifications as a composer of operas;
but it is generally said that since his appointment the conservatory
has very much declined. That he at least does not know how an orchestra
should be conducted or a symphony executed, he proves by allowing so
quietly these things to take place in his presence. Of the merits of
our German composers he has some very erroneous notions. One day, when
I paid him a visit, he spoke for a long time of _Haydn_ and other of
our composers with great respect, but without even once mentioning
_Mozart_; I therefore turned the conversation upon the latter, upon
which he said: “Yes, he also was not deficient in talent, but he lived
too short a time to cultivate it in a proper manner; if he could only
have continued to study ten years longer, he would then have been able
to write something good.”!

  March 3.

An opera has been again put on the stage written by _Mayer_ several
years ago. It is called “_Cora_” and is founded on the same subject
as _Kotzebue’s_ “Sonnenjungfrau” (Virgin of the Sun). There are
certainly some fine passages in the music, but taken as a whole it
has not satisfied my expectations of _Mayer’s_ music. He is after all
deeply tinctured with the Italian manner and almost wholly an apostate
from the German. His method of carrying out the vocalisation and his
instrumentation are thoroughly Italian. This certainly is not to be
wondered at, for since the age of fourteen he has lived in Italy, and
never wrote for any other than Italian audiences. I think, that apart
from his natural talent, he has raised himself above the others alone
by having always endeavoured to procure all the best German works,
which he studied, and made use of, the latter indeed sometimes a little
too much. Throughout Italy, and here in particular, he is very much
admired and liked: he merits it also in every respect, and as a man is
ever the upright, smooth-spoken unassuming German. He is much attached
to his fatherland, and seems only to regret that it was not his fate
to pursue his career as a composer in Germany. In Bergamo, where he is
director of the orchestra, he now only desires to live in retirement,
and write solely for his church. He assured me that nothing but the
honour of writing for the reopening of the San Carlo theatre could have
induced him to leave his retreat once more, but that the opera “La
vendetta di Junone,” which he had now completed, should certainly be
his last work for the theatre. In “Cora” the favorite piece with the
public is the finale, consisting of a theme in three variations in the
old style of _Pleyel_; one of the singers sings the theme, _Davide_
the first variation in quavers, then _Nozzari_ the second in triplets,
and in conclusion la _Colbran_ the third in semiquavers. As it is well
sung, it greatly pleases the public, and critics therefore must be
silent.

  March 6.

Last evening Signor _Pio Chianchettino_ gave a concert in the _Fondo_
theatre. He is a nephew and pupil of _Dussek_, and played two concertos
of that master in his manner. Although his play was pure, distinct
and even full of expression, yet here again, as every-where else, the
piano-forte as concert-instrument proved itself insufficient to awaken
the enthusiasm of an audience; and the more so is this the greater
the size of the place. For that reason also upon this occasion, the
song-pieces pleased far more than the concertos, although no one could
find fault with his play. I myself felt this also; for although I
am very fond of the piano, when a composer rich in ideas improvises
upon it, yet as concert-instrument I am wholly unmoved by it; and a
piano-forte-concerto in my opinion is only effective when written like
those of _Mozart_, in which the piano is not much more thought of than
any other orchestral instrument. The singers, Madame _Chabran_ and
the Signori _Davide_, _Nozzari_ and _Benedetti_, all distinguished
themselves, and were loudly applauded. One becomes more sensible of
their merits when one hears them in a smaller place than the San Carlo
theatre. _Davide_ and _Nozzari_ may be called almost perfect singers,
they both have very fine voices; the former a very high tenor, the
latter a high baritone, remarkable fluency of execution and much true
expression. _Benedetti_ has a very fine bass voice, but sings rather
coldly.

  March 7.

We have again taken some rather more distant and highly interesting
walks. The object of one was the Camaldula convent, which is situated
upon a hill above two hours’ drive from the centre of the city. We
rode as far as the foot of the mountain, where as the carriage road
terminated, we were obliged to make the ascent on foot. The view from
the convent garden is perhaps one of the most extensive and beautiful
in the world. On one side are seen Ischia, Capri, Procida, Nisida and
the promontories which we had visited in our previous excursion,
accompanied by the blue mirror of the sea; on the opposite side Capua,
Caserta, and in the back-ground the snow-covered mountains; on the side
of Naples a part of the city itself, the whole bay with the opposite
coast, and on the left the smoke-emitting Vesuvius; lastly, on the
fourth side, the shores and salient promontories near Gaëta, as far
as Terracina. As the weather was very propitious for us, this was one
of the most magnificent days we ever passed in the enjoyment of the
beauties of nature. The monks, some of whom we caught sight of, did not
appear in the same humour as we were; for they all wore a gloomy aspect.

We took a shorter but not less interesting walk on the new road to
Rome, which was begun under _Murat_, but has remained unfinished since
his dethronement. It leads over a mountain from which one has the most
admirable view of the city, and it is much to be regretted that it
is not complete; for then the traveller would be able to form a more
worthy conception of the city before his entry into Naples, while now
by the old road, which winds through a narrow mountain ravine, he
sees nothing of Naples until he has entered the most dirty and least
attractive part of the city; which leaves him long in doubt whether he
actually is in the world-famed Naples.

We passed a very pleasant day at the villa of the banker _Heigelin_,
which is situated also upon a mountain near the _Strada Nuova_, whence
one has a beautiful view. Old _Heigelin_, an amiable, open-hearted
German, has ornamented this place of his own creation with so many fine
things, such as grottoes, ruins, temples, fountains, &c. &c., that it
would be actually impossible to crowd any thing more together in so
small a space. Although perhaps the whole is somewhat frivolous as
regards the manner in which it is laid out, it has nevertheless many
individual things worthy of attention. For us Northerns, for instance,
the vast number of exotic plants, which were for the most part in full
bloom, were objects of great interest.

  March 11.

Last evening our concert took place. As the impressario of the court
theatres, _Barbaja_, an extremely selfish man, asked me too much
money for the hire of the theatres, for the _Fondo_ for instance 100
Neapolitan ducats and for the _San Carlo_ 200 even, I adopted his
proposal rather to give my concert in the assembly-room of the San
Carlo theatre, which he offered me lit up for nothing. This apparently
disinterested offer was nevertheless calculated also for his advantage,
for the assembly-room and the adjoining rooms were the places for the
hazard-tables, which he had rented, and to which by means of my concert
he hoped to attract the most fashionable and wealthiest company of the
city. This use of my concert, which could in no way prejudice me, I
could readily allow him. As the saloon is not very spacious, I fixed
the price of admission, as at Rome, at one piaster, and although I had
not a more numerous, yet I had a more susceptible public than there.
Encouraged by this and supported most efficiently by the very accurate
accompaniment under _Festa’s_ direction, as well as by the room itself,
which was so advantageous for my instrument, I played better than I
had done in many other towns in Italy. Besides my compositions a duet
by _Mayer_ and a terzet of _Cherubini_ were sung by Signore _Davide_,
_Nozzari_ and _Benedetti_. Even during the evening I was solicited on
all sides to give a second concert in the theatre.

  March 18.

This morning early we visited the “Studii,” _i. e._ the building in
which the treasures of art from Pompeii and Herculaneum are preserved,
together with the collections previously made of statues and paintings.
The library is situated also in the same building. As it is impossible
to see all in one day, we chose for to-day the statues and the library.
Among the former are some very celebrated statues from the Farnese
collection, of which numerous excellent casts have been made, and two
equestrian statues found in Pompeii, of great artistic worth. In one
room are two glazed cases, full of antique bronzes, also from Pompeii
and Herculaneum, consisting of lamps, small penates and all kinds of
domestic utensils. These things, as well as the statues in marble are
in the most perfect preservation, and appear scarcely so many days old
as they are years; but every thing of iron is much eaten by rust, as
for instance the handles and rings of various vessels of bronze.

The library is contained in a fine handsome and spacious apartment and
several adjoining rooms. On the floor of the grand room the line of the
meridian is drawn, on which, through a small hole pierced in the wall
for that purpose, the sun’s rays fall at noon. When a person claps his
hands at a particular spot in this apartment, an echo repeats it more
than thirty times in rapid succession. This arises probably from the
position of the window-recesses, which are high up, near the ceiling.

Lastly we visited the room where the rolls of papyrus are preserved
and unrolled. They have all the appearance of charcoal, and one might
mistake them for that, were it not that one can easily distinguish the
edges of the leaves. A manuscript fully unrolled, mounted upon linen,
framed and glazed, hangs against the wall. As the paper is burnt quite
black the letters are scarcely to be distinguished, and one cannot but
admire the patience, the penetration, and the knowledge of languages
of those who have known how to unravel its sense. It is a treatise on
music: each side is divided into three columns. In the first is seen an
engraved, accurate copy of the unrolled papyrus, with all its defects,
and rents; in the second, the contents in modern Greek characters, in
which the letters and words that are wanting in the original are filled
in with red letters, and in the third, a Latin translation. They are
now unrolling another manuscript, but do not appear to be hurrying
themselves much, for we found one person only thus occupied. The method
pursued is a very simple one. Small strips of fine parchment are stuck
with gum close to each other or rather somewhat lapping over each
other, upon the charred rolls, after which the paper is gradually and
carefully released and removed. The process is of a necessity a slow
one, but considerably more might have been unrolled by this time. If
these precious remains of ancient learning were in the possession of a
German sovereign, they would all have been deciphered long since.

  March 22.

As I did not like the trouble of making the arrangement for a second
concert, I readily accepted the proposal of the impressario to play
twice at the San Carlo theatre between the acts of the opera for the
sum of 300 ducats. This I did the evening before last for the first
time. I was very much afraid that the violin would not fill the immense
house, but I was soon set at rest on that point on being told at the
rehearsal that every note was distinctly heard in the most distant
parts of the house. But of a necessity nevertheless I was obliged to
forego every finer _nuance_ in my play. Although the house was very
full, yet the greatest silence prevailed whilst I was playing, and
after the second piece of music I was called forward.

Last evening I played at the _Casino mobile_, in a very fine saloon,
my concerto in the form of a scena, and a pot-pourri with pianoforte
accompaniment. As the room is very favourable for music, both of these
had a very sensible effect upon the audience. The remainder of the
concert, consisting of symphonies and _pièces d’harmonie_, was not of
importance.

I forgot to mention a concert given by Signora _Paravicini_ at which
we were present, at the _Teatro nuovo_, on Wednesday last. She played,
between the acts of a comedy, the first violin-concerto of _Rode_
in D minor, a pot-pourri by _Kreutzer_, and at the end an _Adagio_
and _Rondo_ of the same composer. I have been accustomed to hear my
instrument ill used by women, but I never saw it used so badly as by
Signora _Paravicini_. I was the more surprised at this, as she has
acquired some fame, and has a vast deal of pretension; as an instance
of this, she told people here that she had heard _Rode_ in Vienna, but
that he had excited no other sentiment in her than pity. Her turn
had now come to excite pity if one can feel it at all for arrogance
and unskilfulness. She has a very excellent violin, a _Stradivari_,
and in the cantabile draws from it a tolerable tone; but that is her
only merit. In other respects she plays in bad taste, with a profusion
of meaningless ornamentations, and the passages indistinctly: her
intonation is not pure and her bow stroke extremely bungling. The
applause was very lukewarm and was elicited only when Prince Leopold
her patron began to clap his hands. Much more interesting than
_Paravicini’s_ play, was the comedy, which was capitally performed.
Signor _de Marini_ played remarkably well, and he is altogether one of
the best actors of the day. The theatre, certainly, is smaller than the
Fiorentino and Fondo, but quite as pretty.

At private-parties I have played my quartetts and quintetts a few
times, which were exceedingly well accompanied by Messieurs _Dauner_
and son, the young and talented violinist _Onario_, whom I have
practised in some of my things, and by the accomplished violoncellist
_Fenzi_, who lived formerly in Cassel. They afforded great pleasure,
and _Mayer_ assured me he had never enjoyed a greater musical treat. On
the second occasion we played them at the house of Lady _Douglas_, who
herself plays the piano very well and is said to have sung exceedingly
well some years ago. She and her husband are the first English in whom
I have found a real taste for music.

  March 23.

On looking through this diary I observe that I have forgotten to
mention the performance of two masses given at the expense of Prince
_Esterhazy_ of Vienna. The first by old _Umlauf_ of Vienna, was
remarkable for nothing in particular; but the second by _Haydn_, in D
minor, which was performed with great solemnity and military pomp on
the emperor’s birthday, afforded much gratification. Mesdames _Chabran_
and _Canonici_, and Signori _Nozzari_ and _Benedetti_ sang the solo
parts very beautifully; the chorus and orchestra were also admirable.
Unfortunately, at the express desire of the Prince, almost all the
_tempi_ were taken too quick, and thereby much spoiled.

  _Milan_, April 22.

Prevented from writing by the great press of business in the last days
of our residence in Naples, and the hurry of our return journey, which
was almost unbroken by a day of rest, I have got greatly in arrears,
and have therefore much to fetch up, even respecting Naples.

_Mayer’s_ new opera was at length brought out a fortnight before
Easter, after it had been once more re-christened, but it was a total
failure, so that it lived through two and a half representations only,
and probably is for ever at rest. On the third evening, in fact, the
first act alone was given, with one act of _Paer’s_ “Sargino.” Both the
subject and the music of _Mayer’s_ opera are equally uninteresting and
tedious. The latter especially is wanting in life and spirit; it is
so common-place and so spun out, that one can hardly hear it without
falling asleep. This actually occurred to me, to Count _Gallenberg_,
and to several others, at the grand rehearsal. _Mayer_ seems to have
exhausted himself, which is no wonder with the enormous quantity of
operas which he has written. It is certainly high time for him to
retire as a composer of operas, that he may not entirely forfeit the
repute he had acquired, and he would have done well if he had not
accepted the last invitation to Naples. The evening after the first
representation of his opera he set out on his return to Bergamo.

About this time the arrival of Madame _Catalani_ set all the lovers of
music in Naples in great commotion. She immediately took advantage of
this enthusiasm and announced a few days afterwards a concert in the
Fiorentino theatre, the prices of admission being seven-fold the usual
ones. On the day before the concert, it was with difficulty that I got
two pit tickets, and that because I had previously bespoken them, at
22 Carlini each. Never perhaps were the expectations of an audience at
a higher pitch of tension, than were those of the Neapolitan public
on that evening. My wife and I, who for years had longed to hear this
celebrated singer, could scarcely repress our impatience for the moment
of her appearance. At length she did appear, and a deathlike silence
pervaded the whole house. She came forward with a cold and pretentious
air, and saluted neither the Court nor the public, which created an
obvious unpleasant sensation. Perhaps she had expected to have been
received with a burst of applause, which however is not the custom in
Naples, and this perhaps put her out of humour. But when after her
first song she was greeted with a storm of applause, she became more
friendly, and remained so for the rest of the evening. She sang four
times, two airs by _Pucitta_, _Ombra adorata_ of _Zingarelli_ (or, as
the Neapolitans insist, of _Crescentini_, whose name also was down on
the bills) and variations on the thousand times varied “_Nel cor non
più mi sento_.” The airs by _Pucitta_ were extremely poor; the famed
_Ombra adorata_ can only be considered fine, when all thoughts of the
text are banished from the mind; the variations were common place, but
become piquante from her manner of execution. She pleased us greatly,
by the constantly pure intonation and the perfect finish with which she
executes every kind of vocal ornamentation and of passages, and by her
quite peculiar and characteristic style of singing; but she does not
come up to that ideal of a perfectly accomplished singer, which we had
expected to find her. Her voice which has the extensive range of

[Music]

to

[Music]

is both full and powerful in the low and middle notes, but the
transition to the _voce di testa_ at

[Music]

very observable, and from three to four notes in that region are much
weaker, than the deeper and highest; for which reason she gives all
passages which occur in those notes, with half-voice, only in order
to conceal the inequality. Her voice is wanting also in the youthful
freshness, which, however, in a female singer of forty years of age, is
not to be wondered at. Her shake is wonderfully beautiful; and equally
pure whether in the half or whole notes. A peculiar style of run
through the half notes, properly speaking the enharmonic scales, since
every note was produced twice, is greatly admired as something quite
her own. To me, nevertheless, it was more remarkable than beautiful;
for it sounded to me like the howling of the storm in the chimney.
Another kind of vocal ornamentation, which in itself is common enough,
she gives, however, in a manner that imparts great charm to it. It
would be expressed in notes somewhat in this manner:

[Music]

but at the same time it must be observed, that she took breath at
every sixteenth-pause, which gave to this part a very impassioned
character. Among the variations was one with syncopated notes, which
from her peculiar style of execution derives also a very characteristic
and interesting charm; and another in triplets _legato_ she gives in
perfection. But what I most missed in her singing, was _soul_. She
sings recitative without expression--I might say with carelessness, and
in _Adagio_ she remains cold. Neither were we even _once_ deeply moved,
but experienced merely that sense of pleasure one always feels when one
sees and hears mechanical difficulties overcome with ease. This, also,
was the sentiment of all those who sat in our immediate neighbourhood.
Some unpleasant and prejudicial habits, which she is not likely now to
correct, I must yet advert to. To these belong firstly, that in certain
passages, particularly those which she gives with force, every note
is delivered with a sort of see-saw movement of the lower jaw, as in
mastication, so that a dumb person, if he _saw her sing_, would have
no great difficulty in distinguishing crochets from quavers and up and
down running passages from one another. In the shake, more especially,
the movement of the lower jaw by which every note might be counted, is
very striking and disfiguring. Secondly, in impassioned passages her
whole body partakes of a southern but highly unbecoming mobility, from
which a deaf man would likewise of a certainty easily guess the subject.

A few days afterwards we heard her again in the rehearsal to her
second concert, in which she sang five times, and exhibited the same
qualifications, but also impressed no one at any time by a show of
feeling in her execution. She seemed to me much less pretentious here
and more amiable; and she was very polite to the orchestra and the
persons who had gathered to hear her, so that I can readily believe
what I was told--that her pretentious air when appearing in public,
arose more from embarrassement than pride, and was assumed by her to
conceal her fears. A young man who stood behind the side-scenes during
her concert assured me, that upon first stepping forward on the stage
she trembled in every limb, and could scarcely breathe for nervousness.
It is said that here in Milan she did not give general satisfaction;
and her last concerts were much less numerously attended than the
first. One part of the public was in favour of _Grassini_, whom we have
now heard here also, but of whom I shall speak later. The admirers of
the latter had played _Catalani_ a malicious trick by distributing for
sale at the entrance of the theatre at her first concert an Italian
translation of the unfavourable opinions respecting her that had
appeared in the Hamburg and Leipsic musical journals. _Catalani_,
herself, expecting to find in it a sonnet or something of the kind in
her praise, purchased a copy.

The day after _Catalani’s_ first concert in Naples took place,
_Rossini’s_ “Elisabetta” was given at the San Carlo theatre, in which
_Colbran_ played the first part. As every body knew that it was her
intention to compete with _Catalani_, the house was more than usually
crowded, both by partizans and antagonists of _Colbran_. The latter
on the previous evening called _Catalani’s_ concert the exequies of
_Colbran_, and people were therefore extremely curious to learn what
would be the result of the evening. Immediately upon her appearance
she was received with a concert of hisses, but simultaneously also
with vehement applause. As, however, this time she really sang and
played exceedingly well, the applauders increased in number and the
hissers grew less, so that at last she was called forward almost
unanimously by the audience. She is far behind _Catalani_ in voice and
every mechanical point of excellence, but she sings with true feeling
and plays with considerable passion. The composition of this opera
is one of _Rossini’s_ best, but with all the merits, it has also all
the weak points of the others.--In the theatre, a ridiculous trait of
pretentious magnanimity on the part of _Catalani_ furnished subject of
amusement. A few evenings before, when she first went to the theatre,
she sent her secretary behind the scenes to express to _Colbran_
and the other singers that “she was perfectly satisfied with their
performances.”

  _Freiburg in Breisgau_, June 20. 1817.

Previous to our leaving Naples, we devoted one whole day more to a
visit to Pompeii. We were so fortunate as to have a clear and tolerably
warm day, a real wonder throughout the whole of the month of March!
While from the middle of January to the end of February the weather was
almost without interruption the most beautiful spring weather, with the
beginning of March winter suddenly returned. A cold and stormy rain
fell in the vallies, and snow in the mountains to such a depth, that
they were no longer accessible. On Vesuvius it was said to be from
three to four feet deep. But March is generally very cold and the real
winter month of the Neapolitans.

The ruins of Pompeii, which from having lain covered for nearly 2000
years with a light crust of dry ashes, are in far better preservation
than all the remains of that period which have been exposed to the
air, made a deep and really solemn impression upon us. The ruins of
the Colosseum and other ancient buildings in Rome, impress one with an
idea of the artistic taste, the wealth, and love of grandeur of the
ancients; but here the sight of simple small private dwelling-houses,
which are as entire as on the day of the fearful catastrophe, makes
one acquainted with the habits and ways of their civic life, and, by
ocular evidence, with many customs unknown to our mode of living, and
described to us by ancient writers.

On entering one of these houses, which may have belonged to a
well-to-do individual in the middle class of society, one finds a row
of small, neat rooms all painted _al fresco_, like the paintings cut
out of the walls from Herculaneum, which are preserved at Portici.
These chambers have rarely any window, and but one door to admit
light and air, which opens upon a court yard, round which runs a
covered gallery. In the centre of the court is a fountain, near this a
circular marble table round which stand marble benches to recline upon
at meal time, furnished with a somewhat higher projection to support
the elbows; and on one side of the court is one or more tastefully
decorated baths. All these houses had but one floor or story and were
much smaller than our dwelling houses. It is greatly to be regretted
that the domestic utensils which were found there could not be left
in their place! One would then have had a perfect conception of the
habits and mode of life of the former inhabitants of this remarkable
city. The pavement of the streets is still in the same condition as it
then was, and the impression of the wheels of the vehicles as also of
the feet of the foot-passengers are still to be seen in the streets.
Over the shops one still sees expressed in Greek characters painted on
walls, the wares which were sold in each, and at the corner of a street
an advertisement of that period. In the shops where oil was sold huge
earthen-ware jars, let into the masonry of the front wall, are still
to be seen, from which that article was dipped out for sale. In many
cellars in good preservation, similar tall jars, but with very narrow
necks are to be seen, in which wine was kept. In one of these cellars
the skeleton of a woman was found, and so completely imbedded in the
ashes, that the form of her body could be distinguished as in a mould.
A part of this form in which the impress of her breast is left, is
preserved at Portici. In her hand was found a large leathern bag with
coins in it.

The street which is in the best preservation is the street of the
tombs, in which on both sides scarcely any thing is to be seen but
tombs, some of which are built in the Egyptian pyramidal-form, and
others in the Roman style. In these tombs, urns have been found in
which the ashes and bones of the burned dead were preserved. The
inscriptions upon these tombs are sometimes Greek, sometimes Latin, and
begin very frequently with the exclamation: “_Siste viator!_” “Stop
passer-by!” &c., which mode of arresting the attention of the way farer
here in a frequented and busy street was much more in place than it
is in our generally very retired churchyards, in which it has been
imitated in a somewhat inappropriate manner.

The public buildings, theatres, temples, &c., which attract attention
in Pompeii, are certainly neither so vast nor so grand and beautiful as
those of Rome, Puzzuoli and other places; but they nevertheless exceed
in importance everything that a modern provincial town can offer to the
visitor. Where, for instance, would one find in any of these, a vast
circus for public games, and two large theatres! Of the latter, one
was roofed over, and served probably for the performance of comedies;
the other, with a stage, an orchestra, and a circular, very lofty
amphitheatre gives us an idea of the sort of place in which the Roman
actors, provided with a mask to increase the volume of sound, performed
their tragedies before an audience of from 10,000 to 15,000 spectators.
But the temples also, the finest of which is now being dug out of the
ashes, afford ocular demonstration of the love of grandeur and of the
good taste of the ancients in architecture.

The vineyards and cultivated land which lie above the yet unexcavated
part of the city, have been already long purchased by the former king
of Naples; hence if the work had been carried on with energy, which,
however, is not to be expected from the present government, which
prosecutes all such things very indolently, the whole of this highly
interesting city would be laid bare in a few years, and from the
high ground which surrounds it might all be surveyed at one glance.
At present the different parts which have been excavated are still
separated from each other by long strips of land under cultivation,
which one is obliged to ascend like so many hills; and one is greatly
surprised after having traversed one of this sort of fields to see
beneath one another part of the city, which contrasts so strangely with
the vines, trees, fields and peasant’s huts upon the high ground.

The day before our departure from Naples we once more paid a visit to
the Studii, and inspected the large collection of Etrurian vases of
every imaginable form. We were greatly pleased also, with the fine
collection of paintings, among which the pictures by _Raphael_ recently
brought back from Sicily were special objects of our admiration.

On the 29th March we set out on our return journey to Rome. The morning
of our leaving was very stormy and unpleasant for me; for in the first
place I had a dispute with the vetturino, who wanted to thrust a fifth
person into the interior of the vehicle, in the shape of a dirty
and ill-smelling Capucin friar, till at length after much desultory
disputation we consented to his being accommodated in the cabriolet,
and as a further incident of annoyance, my family was at first not
permitted to pass out of the gate, because they had not been mentioned
in the new Neapolitan passports which it is requisite to take upon
leaving the country. It was in vain that I shewed my old passport, in
which my wife and children were mentioned; and it was not until I had
pledged my word to go back and procure another passport that I was
allowed to move from the spot. I therefore went back to the minister,
while my wife and children proceeded without further hindrance on
their way. Arrived at the minister’s, I there found all still buried
in sleep; but with fair words and that which with Italians is far more
effectual, money, I at length succeeded in procuring a new passport.
Furnished with this I jumped into a hired carriage, and drove with
all speed to overtake my family, which I did about half-way to Capua
and thus relieved them of a great anxiety respecting me. Among the
annoyances with which travellers in Italy are almost worried to death,
is the excessive strictness in regard to passports, which is frequently
carried to a ridiculous extreme. We subsequently saw an instance in
which a traveller who had already got beyond Parma on the Lombard
frontier was sent all the way back to Leghorn because his passport had
not been signed by the Austrian consul at that place.

In a second vehicle which accompanied us travelled an Englishman,
who was possessed of an extraordinary skill in taking the fine views
in a few minutes. For this purpose he made use of a machine which
transmitted the landscape on a reduced scale to the paper. Between
Velletri and Albano, where we went part of the way on foot in order
better to enjoy the magnificent landscape and the mild air, we saw the
whole method of his proceeding, which afforded infinite pleasure to the
children. He shewed us afterwards his collection of views, of which he
had upwards of two hundred of Naples and its neighbourhood alone. He
gave me his address: Major _Cockburn_, Woolwich, nine miles from London.

Our re-entry into Rome filled us anew with wonder and admiration of
the remains of the old Roman architecture, which we had not seen for
three months. We were much amused also with the simple remarks of the
Capucin friar, whose first visit this was to the mainland, and who
was totally inexperienced in every thing. Apart from his dirt, he was
really a good-tempered, simple sort of man, and quite endurable. He
was full of restless impatience to see the pope officiate. How various
are the wishes and inclinations of men! He perhaps felt as we did the
day before the concert given by the celebrated _Catalani_! I wish with
all my heart that he may return to his convent, better satisfied then
we returned home from that concert.

With great difficulty we procured a miserable apartment in a private
house, for which nevertheless we were obliged to pay half a piaster per
diem. Strangers from every part of Italy had poured into Rome to be
present during the Holy Week, in addition to whom also, pilgrims, and
the devout gathered together from all parts of the world, were now here
to receive remission of their sins. The streets were thronged to that
degree that we were frequently obliged to pull up as we drove through.

Our apartments had a look-out upon the Tiber from a wooden balcony;
from here we could follow the course of the Tiber from the Porta Romana
to the bridge in front of the castle of St. Angelo. The stillness of
the quarter of the city beyond the Tiber, lit up by the ruddy evening
sky and the moonlight, contrasted in a remarkable manner with the dense
throng which poured to and fro across the bridge and then disappeared
in the streets leading from the castle of St. Angelo to the church of
St. Peter. High above all the houses and palaces which lay between us
and the church of St. Peter, rose the latter, proudly and majestically,
filling us with wonder and admiration of its gigantic proportions.
Tired as we were, it was long before we could tear ourselves away from
this magnificent sight, and we remained till a late hour in the mild
evening air upon our balcony. When we at length lay down to rest, we
called to each other once more: “To-morrow, to-morrow, then we shall
hear the famous Miserere!”

  _Aix la Chapelle_, Aug. 10. 1817.

Here at length, I find once more a few moments leisure to continue my
narrative of our return journey from Italy.

On the 3rd April we at last heard the-long-wished-for Miserere in the
Sixtine chapel. We had been told that females were admitted by tickets,
and that men were required to appear in shoes. But a ticket for
_Dorette_ was now not to be had, and I was therefore obliged to make up
my mind to go alone. But when I recognised among the Swiss guard at the
entrance of the church one whom I knew and whose good will I had won
upon a former occasion by a present for accompanying us up to the dome
of St. Peter’s church; I enquired of him whether he could not assist to
procure me an admission into the chapel for my wife without a ticket;
and upon his assurance that he would do his best, I hastened home to
fetch her. After some discussion with the other Swiss guards we were so
fortunate as to be admitted, although several English ladies of rank
who came unprovided with tickets were refused admittance and turned
back. The Swiss cannot bear the English nor the French, and favour the
Germans upon such occasions much more, particularly if one can talk to
them in a few words of “_Schwizerdütsch_.”

We yet arrived in good time, and only regretted that we were not
allowed to remain together, so as to interchange at the moment the
impression which the music would make upon us.

Before the commencement of the singing, nineteen psalms were chaunted
alternately by high and low voices, in the same manner _unisono_,
and in the form of prayer, as we had already found so tedious at
Christmas; and we had to bear with the last eight or nine of these:
after every one, which lasted for five long minutes, one of the tapers
is extinguished that burns upon a gigantic pyramidal-shaped candelabra
in front of the high altar. How one wishes that the last of them also
was extinguished! At length the wished-for moment comes, and by degrees
a silence ensues which not a little increases the expectation of that
which now follows. To this sentiment of expectation, the solemn
twilight which now prevails in the church faintly illumined with the
last gleam of the rosy tints of evening, and the repose felt at length
by the ear after the hoarse bellowing of the psalms may be ascribed the
delicious impression that I experienced from the first long-drawn chord
of _C flat_, and which seemed to me like music from another world.
But one was too soon reminded that it was an earthly music that fell
upon the ear, and one indeed sung by Italians; for immediately after
the second bar, the ear was rent by a horrid succession of quints! The
theme was doubtless after this manner:

[Music]

but was given by the singers in the following barbarous manner:

[Music]

I could not have believed even my own ears, much more those of others,
that they sing _in such wise_ in the Sixtine chapel, had I not heard
it subsequently repeated. Is this perhaps the mysterious method of
executing these old compositions, of which it is related that it is
known alone to this choir, and has been handed down traditionally?
Impossible! _Modern_ Italians only can sing in so barbarous a style,
who may perhaps possess a feeling for melody, but who in all that is
called harmony are grossly ignorant.

When however this first Miserere had been endured, I was soon attracted
by something else. These simple sequences of harmony, consisting almost
wholly of triads, this mixing and sustaining of the voices, at one time
increasing to the most tumultuous _forte_, at another dying away into
the softest _pianissimo_; the continual and lengthened sustaining of
single tones to a degree attainable only by the lungs of a castrated
person, and then especially the soft introduction of a chord, while
that of other voices is still faintly sustained, give to this music, in
spite of all its deficiencies, something so peculiar, that one feels
irresistibly attracted by it. I can now therefore readily understand
that in former times, when the choir was much better, this must have
made an immense impression upon foreigners who had never heard pure
vocal music and the voices of castrated persons. It might even now be
made most charmingly effective, if the singers of the choir had only
a director of more extensive knowledge. But as it is, they do not
generally sing even with purity.

On this first day, two compositions of _Allegri_ and _Baini_ were
given, and each of them repeated once. Between each of these ten
not very long divisions a prayer was recited in a low tone by the
cardinals, bishops, and other clergy, which from its resemblance to
the roll of distant thunder had a good effect. At the conclusion of
the ceremony however, the servants, scraping and treading upon the
foot-boards, made a very unpleasant noise for musical ears, which
greatly disturbed and then obliterated the impression made by the
music, to which one would willingly have abandoned oneself a little
longer. This noise they tell me is to represent an earthquake!

On the second evening I managed things in such a manner as to arrive
at the chapel just at the commencement of the real singing, and on the
extinguishing of the last taper. The crowd was so great, that I was
obliged to remain standing some time at the entrance surrounded by
Englishmen, who during the whole time of the music spoke to each other
in a very loud tone of voice, and would not even allow themselves to
be restrained from it by any signs to keep silence. Besides this, the
singers sang much more carelessly than the day before, and frequently
very false, so that I was very glad when the earthquake came to put an
end to the ceremony. Three new compositions were added to the two of
yesterday, for which reason each required to be sung but once. In other
respects everything was exactly the same as the first time.

At a later period I had an opportunity of seeing the Miserere
collection published by _Kühnel_ of Leipsic, but did not find a single
one of those which we heard in Rome. The library of the Sixtine chapel
must however be so rich in such compositions, that they are enabled to
select different ones for many years in succession.

Both evenings after the Miserere we saw the illumination of the cross
in the church of St. Peter. Upon entering by the grand entrance, whence
one sees the illuminated cross at the farthest distance, it makes an
imposing impression, but so soon as one approaches nearer, it loses
greatly. The effect would be far greater if all the other lights in the
church were extinguished. But as it is, not only hundreds of lamps burn
round the entrance to the subterranean chapel, but innumerable other
lights besides in every part of the church. The brilliant illumination
in the cross casts therefore no prominent shadow. The Pantheon was also
illuminated this evening, which must have had a magnificent effect.
Unfortunately we arrived just as the lights were being extinguished.

On the previous evening prince _Frederick_ took me to a party, at which
the fiftieth psalm, or the Miserere of _Marcello_, was exceedingly well
sung by dilettanti. But as the orchestral accompaniment was, as is
usual in Rome, very bad, and the composition throughout monotonous, I
soon got tired of it and was glad when it came to an end.

On Saturday forenoon we took a long walk to St. Paul to see the
magnificent ancient pillars in that otherwise very ugly church. On our
way back, we saw the pyramid of _Cestius_ and the so-called mount of
pot-sherds. At noon we met at the eating-house at the sign of “The
Ermine” a German drawer, Herr _Rösel_, who easily persuaded us to take
another walk in his company. He first pointed out to us an arched,
old Roman subterranean canal, the _Cloaca maxima_, I think; we then
went to a small, insignificant church, but which contains many fine
antiquities, in order to see the divine service of the Greek church,
which is celebrated on this day only; but the crowd was so great, that
we could not obtain an entrance. Upon this we went to see the temple of
Vesta, and lastly ascended the mount Aventino, where our companion led
us before the door of a garden and shewed us through the key-hole one
of the most startling sights imaginable. Through a long arched gallery
overgrown with wild shrubs and verdure the dome of the church of St.
Peters is seen magnificently lit up and gilded by the rays of the
setting sun. We had then the door of the garden opened for us, in order
to admire closely, a very large and beautiful palm tree which was just
then in full bloom.

On the following morning the ringing of bells and salves of artillery
from the castle of St. Angelo reminded us that it was Easter Sunday,
and of the necessity of a speedy toilet if we would not lose the sight
of the great ceremony in the church of St. Peter’s. But the fearful
crush of the crowd upon the bridge almost compelled us to turn back.
Completely carried along by the throng, we at length arrived on the
other side of the Tiber, and then hastened to get into a less crowded
side street, which also led to the grand square in front of the church.
We there found many thousand persons assembled, and among them many
pilgrims, with their hats ornamented with shells collected from every
quarter of the world, who were impatiently awaiting the moment when
the Holy father should give his benediction from the balcony. But some
time was to elapse before that would take place, and we therefore first
took a turn through the church, where we found every part decorated
just the same as at Christmas, and as we could hope to see very little
of the ceremony, we preferred taking a walk in the open air as the
weather was so fine. We got back again about 12 o’clock, and found
the populace still in a state of acute suspense. The balcony over the
grand entrance to the church was decorated with crimson velvet, and to
shield it from the rays of the sun a gigantic tent was stretched over
it. In the gallery above the pillars on the left-hand side a box had
been erected for the accommodation of the most distinguished foreign
visitors. A number of pages bearing tapers first made their appearance
on the balcony, then followed the cardinals, and lastly the Pope, borne
upon a sedan, and having on each side of him the white fans of ostrich
feathers. As soon as he appeared, all the people fell upon their knees
and a solemn stillness took the place of the wild tumult which had
previously prevailed. There was something exceedingly imposing in the
reverential awe impressed by this moment upon the feelings. The pale
old man then arose, and with a slow and dignified movement of the
hands, blessed the assembled multitude. In the mean-time, two folded
papers were thrown down from the balcony, one of which, as I was told,
contained the damnation of all heretics, and the other the papal
indulgence for all good believers then present. The damnatory-bull did
not however reach the ground, but flew driven by the wind into a window
that stood open, while the bull of indulgence was caught by the people
who struggled for its possession.

On our way to the eating-house, we were joined by Herr _Kelle_ of
Stuttgard, whose acquaintance we had previously made in Dresden. He
asked us among other things whether we were satisfied with our tour in
Italy and with what we had seen. Upon which I complained that we had
found many things which did not realise the expectation that had been
raised in our minds by previous travellers. He found that very natural,
and considered that it arose from the circumstance that not one of the
travellers upon his return would confess, that he also had been made an
April-fool of by his predecessors. It reminds me, he continued, of the
well-known anecdote of a man who advertised that he had a horse in his
stable which had its head where other horses had their tails. But the
curious who went to see it found nothing more than a horse fastened to
the crib by the tail, yet took good care to conceal it from the others
who were waiting outside the door--because they were ashamed. The
application of the story is easy!

After dinner we took another walk in the villa Borghese, and then
made our preparations for our departure, which was fixed for the next
morning.

In company of two persons from Stuttgard and one from Munich, with whom
we had collectively hired a vetturino, we this time performed the far
more interesting return-journey by the way of Perugia to Florence, in
six days. On the evening of the second day we arrived at Terni, and
hastened before the sun had set, to visit the celebrated waterfall,
about two hours’ walk from that place. We proceeded as far as the
foot of the mountain and then hired some asses already saddled for
the purpose in the very romantically situated village, to which half
Terni attracted by the mildness of the Sunday evening had repaired as a
pleasant promenade. These soon and safely carried us up the ascent to
the waterfall. The view from the mountain, before one turns into the
valley into which the waterfall precipitates itself, is very varied and
charming. The scene then, as one approaches nearer to it, becomes more
and more wild and romantic. As the sun was now about to set, we did not
tarry long but made all possible haste to reach the waterfall before
nightfall, in part to see the imposing spectacle in a proper light, and
partly for security’s sake, as the country hereabouts has not a very
good reputation. With the last declining rays of the sun we reached
the rock which rises out of the dark foaming abyss opposite the fall,
and where for the convenience of visitors a pavillon furnished with
benches has been erected. The view of the majestic spectacle from this
point of sight is beyond the power of language to describe. We were all
riveted as it were to the spot with admiration and wonder. Certainly at
no former period of my life did any of the beauties of nature, not even
the first sight of the Alps, make so deep an impression upon me. After
we had stood here for full ten minutes and fully feasted our eyes with
the magnificent sight, we returned to Terni without accident, on one of
the mildest and finest evenings of spring, exceedingly delighted with
our charming excursion.

On the fourth day of the journey it became suddenly very cold, so much
so that towards evening snow even began to fall, and lay upon the
ground till the morning. But when we entered the deep valley in which
Florence lies, we found everything in bloom.

We remained one day only in Florence, which we nevertheless turned to
good account. In the forenoon we visited the cathedral, the baptistery
and the Boboli gardens. Unfortunately, as it was a holiday, we could
not get admittance to see the tomb of the Medici and the Pitti Palace.
In the afternoon we took a walk to the Cascini.

Next morning, the 14th April, we resumed our journey, to Bologna
without our previous companions, who remained some time longer in
Florence. We found a great deal of snow in the Apennines, and once
more got into complete winter. In dismal Bologna we stopped one day
only. The host of the “Pellegrino” had made out a somewhat shamefully
long bill against us, in abatement of which I resorted to a means I
had frequently put in practice; that is, I deducted a third from the
account, which after some discursive wrangling, he was obliged to
submit to. Subsequently I always resorted to this expedient, and found
it answer better than the previous plan of pre-arrangement, which I had
hitherto followed, but in which after all I always found that I was
cheated.

We now proceeded by way of Modena, Reggio, Parma and Piacenza, to
Milan. As we did not stop long any where, I can say nothing more of
those cities than that we everywhere found similar crowds of ragged
beggars, the same system of cheating among the hotel keepers, and the
same dirt. On the market place of Piacenza, we saw the two gigantic
bronze statues. Whether they have any artistic merit, I cannot take
upon me to say, as we saw them only in the evening twilight.

In Milan we put up at the _Pension Suisse_, which I recommend to all
travellers for cleanliness and cheapness. We were again struck on our
first going out by the magnificence and beauty of the exterior of the
cathedral. It is without doubt the finest building that we ever saw,
more noble and richer than the _façade_ of the church of St. Peter’s.

The celebrated _Grassini_, to the imitation of whose singing _Rode_
is said to be indebted for his peculiar method of play, which differs
from the school of _Viotti_, had announced six representations in the
theatre _della Scala_. As they were however but thinly attended, three
only took place, at the last of which we were present. It consisted
of unconnected scenas from “the Horatii and Curatii” of _Cimarosa_,
and some other airs, among which also _Ombra adorata_. _Grassini_, who
in the flower of her age was without doubt a distinguished vocalist,
is now somewhat _passée_. In that however which time could not steal
from her she still stands alone; that is, she has a good style, and
plays and sings with much intensity of feeling--in truth with far
more feeling and expression than _Catalani_, but she is nevertheless
greatly behind the latter in brilliancy of execution and as regards
voice.--Hence whenever the production of a brilliant effect alone,
was the desideratum, she did not altogether give satisfaction, but in
impassioned recitative she charmed the audience by her truthful force
of expression.

I found this time also, the della Scala theatre admirably adapted to
give effect to music. I know of no place in which the voices as well as
the orchestra sound so grandly, and so distinctly at the same time; it
is therefore immeasurably preferable in an acoustic point of view to
the San Carlo theatre.

As upon our first appearance at the theatre our speculation had been so
unprofitable, we tried this time the music hall of the conservatorium,
fixed the price of entrance at three francs, and on account of the
theatre gave our concert in the forenoon. Whether attributable to the
unusual hour or to the already too advanced season of the year--suffice
to say, it was again very thinly attended, and did not return much more
than the expenses.

In the company of two Englishmen, the younger of whom was tolerably
amiable, we set out from Milan on the 2nd of May, slept in Arona, and
on the following morning were anew enraptured by the heavenly scenery
round the _Lago maggiore_, which we now again found in the garb of
spring, and arrived towards evening at the village of Simplon, at the
foot of the Simplon pass. Here, upon taking leave of Italy, we were
again cheated in real Italian style, being compelled, for instance, to
pay two francs for each cup of coffee.

The next morning we commenced the at this season of the year somewhat
difficult journey over the mountain pass, and reached the snow region
one hour after leaving Simplon. Here it was necessary to take the
carriage to pieces; the body was placed upon one sledge, the wheels
upon another, and our luggage upon a third; and in this manner the
caravan proceeded with several additional horses at a slow rate. In
the higher regions of the pass, where the snow remained hard, there
were not many stoppages, but further down, where the warmth was already
considerable, and the snow not very deep, we came every moment to
a standstill. Sometimes the horses sank in up to their bellies, at
others the carriage would get jammed fast between walls of snow as high
as a house, when it became necessary to clear a passage for it; and
then again the road had to be cleared of the fallen avalanches that
encumbered it and obstructed our progress. We therefore went on before,
and arrived two hours earlier at the fourth refuge station, wet through
up to the knees, it is true. At this place the snow had disappeared,
and here we refreshed ourselves with a simple breakfast, and rested
from the fatigues of our toilsome promenade. We heard many avalanches
come thundering down, and were in constant fear that it might fare
with us as with some travellers who had passed the day before. These,
arrived near to one of the galleries pierced through the rock, saw
a fearful avalanche sweeping down upon them, and had but just time
sufficient to take refuge in the gallery. To their horror, however,
they found both exits had been blocked up by the snow, so that for
three fearfully anxious hours they were shut in, until the inspector of
the road had worked his way through to them.

When at length the carriage arrived, we drove on to Brieg, where
we passed the third night, and for the first time again heard our
mother-tongue spoken, which sounded right welcome to our ears. Our
fourth day’s journey brought us to Sion, where French is spoken. In the
Valais we found the spring much less forward than on the other side.
Here, the cherry-trees were scarcely in bloom, while in Lombardy and on
the _Lago maggiore_ they had long passed their bloom. We thus once more
found ourselves in spring, in which we had constantly been since the
beginning of February.

On our fifth day’s journey we came to the celebrated Pissevache,
which is close to the road. But our expectations were not altogether
satisfied; for in comparison with the waterfall at Terni, this looked
very insignificant in our eyes. We slept at Bex, a charmingly situated
little village, which the inhabitants call not without reason _un
paradis terrestre_. The inn here may compete with the largest hotels of
many capitals.

On the sixth day we travelled continuously along the lake of Geneva
through Vevay to Lausanne. This place, so much lauded, and also
much resorted to in summer by the English, is not so beautiful as I
expected. The views on the lake of Thun, and still more on the lake of
Zurich, are far more varied; but all the Swiss lakes are in my opinion
far behind the _Lago maggiore_. On the seventh day we arrived at length
at Geneva.

       *       *       *       *       *

In consequence of a severe cold I was confined for some days to my bed.
During this time Herr _Dupont_ and the Rev. Pastor _Gerlach_, with some
other musical friends, took some pains to make arrangements for a
concert. But it was easy to see beforehand that it would not be a very
brilliant affair, for in part the prevailing distress and dearness of
provision were still too great; and partly because several concerts had
taken place shortly before for the benefit of the poor. The season was
also too far advanced, and the majority of the wealthy families had
already retired to their country-seats. In fact it did not much more
than cover the expenses. We also permitted ourselves to be persuaded to
play at Herr _Piclet Rochemont’s_ and Herr _Dupont’s_ private parties;
and the very numerous company assembled at both their tea-parties then
thought it no longer worth while coming to our concert. The brothers
_Bohrer_, who had been there a month before we came, did not meet with
better success. Taken as a whole the Genevese have very little taste
for art, and are always speculating how they can best squeeze the
numerous foreigners who reside there summer and winter. At any rate
they know very little of _German art_ and _German artists_, and do not
know our classical composers even by name. The foreign language, and
the long French rule to which they were subjected, explains all this
sufficiently.

Of all towns of Switzerland Geneva may boast the greatest number of
distinguished artists, but who here, as almost everywhere else, are
split into two or more parties, and live a regular cat-and-dog life
among themselves. Of these the brothers _Hensel_ and _Wolf_ and Herr
_Berger_ (properly _Münzberger_) are the most prominent. I was so
fortunate as to bring these gentlemen together at my concert, who
otherwise never played together, and had thus for a Swiss town a
really good orchestra. The Rev. Pastor _Gerlach_ received us in the
most friendly manner, and rendered us even many obliging services;
he even gave up to us the Lutheran church for our concert, in which
music has a very good effect. Without that we should been compelled to
give it in the dark and cheerless theatre, which would have occasioned
considerable expense (300 Francs).

In Geneva I had the unexpected pleasure of meeting once more my old
teacher _Kunisch_ of Brunswick. This worthy man had experienced every
possible caprice of fortune. When a young man he was a first-rate
hornist, but from its inducing at last a spitting of blood, he was
obliged to abandon that instrument to save his life. By the most
untiring application he then in three years attained to a considerable
skill on the violin, and subsequently procured an appointment as first
violin at the national theatre in Berlin. When after the battle of
Jena the Prussian court was obliged to fly from Berlin and the royal
orchestra was dispersed, he was driven from Berlin by the intrigues
of Herr _Schick_, who much wanted to obtain his place. He then first
went to Switzerland, when already advanced in years he learned the
French language, and, afterwards went to Lyons, where he again procured
an appointment as first violin at the theatre. Well pleased with his
situation here, he had just begun to feel comfortably settled down,
when by an unluckly fall he dislocated his left hand, which soon
became perfectly rigid, so that he could no longer play the violin,
and consequently was obliged to give up his situation. He was now for
a third time compelled to learn another instrument, and thenceforth
earned a scanty subsistence as a teacher of the piano-forte. He was
exceedingly pleased to meet me again, and seemed very proud to be able
to call me his pupil.

       *       *       *       *       *

Upon perusing the here intercalated diary of the Italian journey I miss
some incidents which even now (in 1847) are so vividly impressed on my
memory that I cannot forbear appending them here in continuation.

Mention has already been made of the circumstance that I had alone to
thank the exertions of the Austrian ambassador Count _Apponyi_ for
being enabled to give a concert in Rome during Advent, at which time
all public music is forbidden. Count _Apponyi_ undertook to represent
my request for permission to the governor of Rome, but advised me
nevertheless not to wait for the reply, but to make arrangements as
quickly as possible for the concert, while he would procure for me
the necessary subscribers. I went to work immediately, but found my
efforts impeded by very considerable difficulties. The salon in the
Ruspoli Palace, which Count _Apponyi_ had procured for me, was like
every other part of that fine uninhabited building, in a very ruinous
condition. It was necessary to re-glaze the windows in many places,
to fill up the holes in the marble pavement with bricks, and to hire
the necessary furniture, chandeliers, seats, music desks, &c. &c. But
it was first of all especially necessary to cleanse the palace, from
the entrance to the saloon, from the filth with which the esplanade
and the handsome flight of marble steps ornamented with statues were
filled in such a manner, that whole cart-loads of it required to be
carried away. I was also first obliged to find one by one singers and
musicians in the immense city, and to engage them for my concert, all
of which occupied a great deal of time. Until the day of the concert,
and even on that itself till the evening, I was in continual anxiety
lest a refusal of my request should arrive and overthrow every thing
I had done. But the police were so humane, that they did not forward
this to me till the day _after_ the concert when I had already in hand
a satisfactory return in the shape of receipts. I was hereby relieved
of great uneasiness and one which until then had greatly embittered my
stay in Rome. My travelling funds had come to so low an ebb, from the
hitherto scanty receipts from my concerts in Italy, that I saw with
alarm they would in no manner suffice for an extension of our journey
to Naples, and scarcely even for a direct return to Germany. To be so
near to Naples, the most desired object of the whole journey, and now
to turn back--that was a reflexion too fearful for me to bear with
calmness! I therefore conceived the idea of applying to the _Beer_
family, which had meanwhile arrived from Venice, for a loan. Intimate
as was my friendship with the son _Meyer Beer_ (afterwards _Meyerbeer_)
I could nevertheless not overcome my reluctance to express my wish
on the subject, and applied therefore in preference to a rich friend
of mine in Alsace, who however, as it frequently happens with such
applications, paid no attention to it. But now, thanks to the handsome
receipts which my concert had brought in, all prospect of pecuniary
want was dissipated, and I could venture upon the further journey to
Naples without anxiety. This was nevertheless delayed by the illness of
my children till the latter end of January; and as _Dorette_, wholly
occupied with attending to them, could now no longer accompany me in
my excursions, I kept frequent company with the _Beer_ family, and
they having arrived later, I could now serve them as Cicerone. Of an
evening, when the light no longer permitted anything more to be seen
(for the theatres were still closed during Advent), the three sons
accompanied me sometimes to my lodgings, and we then shortened the
long evenings with a game at whist. As it was at that time, however,
very cold in Rome, and there was no means of heating my room, we used
to set ourselves down in my enormous bed with our backs turned to the
four cardinal points, with the leaf of a table between us, and in that
manner played our rubber in comfortable warmth and in the best humour.

Of my stay in Naples, the following incident is to be added.

On the day of my first concert, I received in the green-room of the San
Carlo theatre, a visit from the celebrated singer _Crescentini_, whom I
had already become acquainted with in Rome. After he had said many very
complimentary things relative to my play and my compositions, he made
the following proposition to me. The present director, _Zingarelli_,
who, with his religious turn of mind, was very unremitting in praying
with his pupils, but who practised them in music very little, was to be
pensioned off, and he, _Crescentini_ was applying for the appointment.
But as he understood nothing of instrumental music, the Neapolitan
minister contemplated appointing a second director for that, and had
thought of me, as my play and my compositions had quite enchanted him
at my concert on the previous day. If therefore I felt disposed to make
an application for the place, I was to accompany him immediately to
the minister, where further proposals would be made to me. This took
place. I returned to _Dorette_ highly satisfied with the propositions
of the minister, and we were not a little pleased at the thoughts of
taking up our home in such a paradise as Naples. But week after week
passed away, without any further communication from the minister, and
we learned from _Crescentini_ that the whole project had been abandoned
by reason of the expense it would entail. We dared not therefore delay
any longer the period of our departure, for I again found that my
treasury was so decreased by our numerous excursions in the environs of
Naples, which we had made in the company of our Silesian friends, and
of which I was always obliged to bear half the expenses, that my means
would scarcely suffice for the return journey to Switzerland.

This calculation proved indeed but too correct; for on our arrival at
Geneva, my funds were completely exhausted. As my concert there also
brought in but very little, and I knew beforehand that with the then
(in the spring of 1817) prevailing famine in Switzerland, but very
little was to be earned in the other Swiss towns, I for the first time
in my life experienced the bitter anxiety arising from a want of the
means of subsistence. It is true we possessed some valuables which had
been presented to us at several courts; but the bare thought of being
obliged to sell or to pledge these, was still much too painful to our
feelings. Necessity, however, compelled us to do so. I was just on the
point of looking for a place where money was advanced upon pledges,
when _Dorette_ suggested that it would be preferable to reveal our
position to the most friendly of all our acquaintances there, the
Pastor _Gerlach_, and offered to go to him herself, as I had not the
courage to do so. She took with her her handsomest ornament, a diadem
of brilliants, a present from the Queen of Bavaria, and proceeded to
the reverend gentleman’s house. Never in all my life did I pass such
painful moments as those which elapsed during her absence. At length,
after a seemingly never-ending half hour, she returned, and brought
back the pledge--but with it the sum necessary for the prosecution
of our further journey. She was still in a state of excitement
from a fright she had experienced there. While, with the greatest
embarrassment and with faltering lips, she disclosed to the Pastor our
momentary necessities, and made a request for a loan upon the pledge
she proferred, he had suddenly burst into a loud fit of laughter and
vanished into an adjoining room. But before she had time to reflect
upon the meaning of this outburst of hilarity, which seemed to her
so greatly out of place, he returned bringing the required sum, and
said to her in the kindest manner: “I am delighted that the worthy
pair of artists have afforded me so great a pleasure as to render them
a service; but how could you think that a clergyman would lend upon
pledges like a jew?”

Thus, then, our immediate wants were relieved and we could resume our
journey. We now first went to Thierachern to fetch our carriage and
the harp, which we had left there the previous autumn. As _Dorette_
required a little time to get her hand again into play upon her
instrument, and we did not moreover require to hurry, as the favorable
period for concert-giving was passed, we stayed there a fortnight,
practised again each forenoon our duets for harp and violin, and in
the afternoons, favoured by the most beautiful spring weather, visited
once more all our former favorite spots. At length, however, we were
obliged to make up our minds to leave the paradise of Thierachern and
proceed further upon our artistic tour. In Switzerland we met with
very little success, for the permission to give public concerts was
everywhere refused on account of the prevailing famine, and it was
permitted in Zurich only because we there offered to hand over a part
of the proceeds to the poor. I there played for the first time since
my return to Germany my vocal _scena_ and a solo-quartet (Op. 43) that
I had begun in Italy and finished in Thierachern; both compositions
were received with very great applause. But with that I was obliged
to content myself; for the receipts from this concert were far below
those of the previous year. I could not therefore keep my promise as
to time, in the repayment of the sum borrowed in Geneva, which gave me
much uneasiness. But the Pastor _Gerlach_, upon my communicating to him
the reason, in excuse for my failure, returned the most satisfactory
reply, and I could thus proceed on my journey with a mind more at ease.

But even in Germany also, where we gave concerts in Freiburg,
Carlsruhe, Wiesbaden, Ems, and Aix-la-Chapelle, the receipts were but
middling, on account of the generally prevailing distress, so that they
scarcely covered our travelling expenses; and not until we reached the
last-named town, where our play produced a great sensation and enabled
us to give three very numerously attended concerts, did sufficient
remain to enable us to liquidate my debt to _Gerlach_.

From Naples to Aix-la-chapelle we had now travelled for four months
continually in the direction from south to north, without stopping very
long anywhere. We had therefore found everywhere beyond and on this
side of the Alps, the trees in bloom, and thus enjoyed an extension
of the spring season in a degree such as it has never since been our
lot to know. At Aix-la-Chapelle we arrived in the height of summer,
and in the middle of the bathing season. For our farther journey to
Holland this was the most unfavourable time for concert-giving, and I
therefore resolved to stop some weeks in Aix-la-Chapelle. We had there
become acquainted with several zealous musical amateurs, at whose
houses music parties were frequently given. I had also found some good
quartet-accompaniers with whom I practised my Vienna quartets and
quintets; and as they were greatly admired by all who heard them, I
gave them frequently.

We thus passed the time of our stay in Aix-la-Chapelle in a very
pleasant manner, equally divided between work and pleasure. The
instruction of the children, which indeed had never entirely ceased
during the whole journey, for we used to give them instruction even
in the carriage as we travelled along, was now resumed with more
earnestness and regularity. I also began to compose again, and wrote
there the first number of my four-voice songs for men’s voices (Op. 44)
of which _Gœthe’s_ “Dem Schnee, dem Regen” became afterwards a favorite
table song.

Towards autumn we continued our journey to Holland, and on our way
thither first gave some concerts at Cologne and Dusseldorf which were
very well attended. Thence we proceeded to Cleves, where we made the
acquaintance of the notary, Mr. _Thomae_, a zealous friend of art and
a distinguished dilettante, who played several instruments. In his
house we had music very frequently, and the two families, inclusive of
the children, soon became so attached that they formed a life-enduring
friendship. Through this circumstance our stay in Cleves became so
attractive that we took leave of the friendly little town and its
charming environs with much reluctance.

The fame of the _Spohr_ artist-couple had however not yet reached
Holland, and we were therefore first obliged to break ground there.
In this however we soon succeeded. In that wealthy land, favourably
disposed towards German art and German artists, we made a great
sensation, and consequent thereon also a flourishing business. We had
already played at Rotterdam and the Hague, and had just arrived at
Amsterdam, where we had also already made our appearance in _Felix
meritis_ and had afterwards given a concert upon our own account,
when I received a letter from Mr. _Ihlée_, director of the theatre at
Frankfort on the Main, in which, on the part of the shareholders of
that theatre, he offered me the appointment of director of the opera
and music, and in case of my acceptance thereof, added the request
that I would enter upon it with all possible despatch. The terms, it
is true, were not so brilliant as those of my Vienna appointment,
but sufficient nevertheless to maintain a family. Certainly I should
have liked to have continued my artistic tour, in which I took great
pleasure, at least till the spring; but they were very pressing in
Frankfort, and _Dorette_ longed once more for domestic repose. I
therefore consented without further hesitation and set out immediately
upon the return journey. At Cleves, where we alighted at the friendly
house of the _Thomae_ family, we were forced, despite the pressing
urgency to accelerate our journey, to stop a few days. Although it was
now mid-winter, every thing was again done to make our stay agreeable.
Music parties, sledge excursions and other amusements succeeded each
other alternately. On the evening before our departure, as we sat
at the supper-table, cracking nuts and thinking regretfully of the
approaching parting, my friend _Thomae_ made the proposal that the
_Spohr_ family, as a memorial of their presence there, should plant one
of the nuts in the garden. This proposition was received with general
acclamation. Upon a spade being brought, both families, wrapped in warm
cloaks, repaired in procession to the garden, in the very centre of
which, after I had cleared away the snow, I dug a hole, in which the
children planted the nut. In the following spring the appearance of the
germ above ground was announced to us at Frankfort. This, carefully
protected by a circular fence, grew by degrees to a fine tree, and
even now (1852) the _Thomae_ family, as one of the sons not long since
informed me, thinks with pleasurable feelings of that evening and the
absent friends.

In Frankfort I was received by the shareholders of the theatre
and by the whole company of the theatre and orchestra in the most
friendly manner. A dinner was given in my honour in the saloon of the
“_Weidenbusch_,” at which the usual toasts were given and speeches made
in due form. The orchestra, which, under the able direction of its
previous leader Mr. _Schmitt_, had acquired the reputation of being
one of the best in Germany, I found somewhat deteriorated, from his
long illness. But as a ready disposition was shewn by all to meet my
wishes and arrangements, and as they soon accustomed themselves to my
method of directing, the former _ensemble_ was soon re-established. My
predecessor had led with the violin, and by the wish of the singers I
began also in the same manner, indicating the time with the bow, and
keeping the violin ready at hand, in order to assist with that when
necessary. But I soon accustomed them to so precise a practise of their
parts that such assistance as that was soon no longer necessary. I now
laid the violin aside and directed in the French style, with the bâton.

The routine of business on the Frankfort stage was at that time as
follows: the managers chosen by the shareholders, met every week the
technical directors (Mr. _Ihlée_ for the drama and I for the opera)
at a sitting at which the programme for the week was agreed upon
and everything concerning the management arranged. The _præses_, or
_senior_ of this directory, was a merchant of the name of _Leers_, who
liked the office and therefore always managed to be re-elected. In
the course of time he had acquired a certain tact in the routine of
managing the theatre, and spoke usually therefore in a very decided
tone. His whole endeavour was directed to economy, in order to diminish
the yearly recurring deficit of from 14 to 17,000 florins, which
the shareholders were obliged to cover. He liked best the singers,
performers and musicians, who engaged at the lowest salaries, and in
the choice of the operas and plays which were to be given he always
decided upon those which would entail the least expense. _Ihlée_ and
I had also an especial interest in getting rid of the deficit, as we
had a share in any overplus secured to us by agreement: but we thought
this would be much more surely attained if an endeavour was made to
raise the character of the theatre by engaging distinguished talent and
the representation of classical works. We were therefore frequently in
opposition to Mr. _Leers_ and his colleagues, and one of them only,
Mr. _Clement Brentano_, entertained the same opinion as ourselves. But
he seldom succeeded in obtaining the victory for it, as it was always
his custom to defend it merely with light sallies of wit and sarcasm.
The animosity which sprung out of this difference of opinion between
Mr. _Leers_ and myself was not perceptible, however, till a later
period, for at first we agreed very well. It was therefore not very
difficult for me to obtain the consent of the managers to bring out
my opera “Faust.” I was very desirous of at length hearing this work,
which I had written five years before at Vienna, and I hastened all the
preparations as much as possible. As there was no baritone among the
singers of the theatre who could satisfactorily take the part of Faust,
I was obliged to give it to the tenor, Mr. _Schelble_, afterwards the
founder and director of the society of St. Cecilia, who possessed in
his _mezzo-tenore_, the necessary compass as also the requisite skill
in execution. After the rehearsals had commenced, _Schelble_ expressed
the wish that I would write another air for him which would shew his
voice off to more advantage than those which were in the opera. As I
found a suitable place for its introduction immediately after the duet
at the commencement, and Mr. _George Döring_ (hautboy of the orchestra
and subsequently a much admired romance writer) furnished me with
appropriate words for it, I was very pleased to be enabled to satisfy
_Schelble’s_ wish. This air: “Liebe ist die zarte Blüthe” (Love is the
tender blossom), which was afterwards so frequently sung at concerts,
and innumerable times in London by _Pischek_, is therefore the first
thing I composed in Frankfort. Meanwhile the study of the opera had
proceeded so well that it could be announced and performed for the
first time in March (1818). At first, it is true, it pleased the great
majority less than the connoisseurs, but with each representation
gained more admirers; so that from that time it has remained almost
constantly in the repertorium of the Frankfort stage, and has been
studied anew after short intervals.

This success encouraged me to new dramatic compositions. I therefore
looked about me for the materials for a work of the kind, and found
one that suited me in _Appel’s_ book of ghost stories, in the tale
called “Der schwarze Jäger” (the black huntsman). _Döring_, with whom I
spoke upon the subject, offered to work it out as an opera. We devised
together a plot which differed chiefly from _Kind’s_ text-book (which
was at that time as yet unknown to us) in this, that we retained the
tragical conclusion of the story. As soon as _Döring_ had written the
first scenes, I immediately set about the composition. The introduction
was already for the most part sketched out, when the celebrated
tragedian Madame _Schröder_, and her daughter, the afterwards more
celebrated _Schröder-Devrient_, came to Frankfort, and during her
visit saw the work I was engaged upon on the piano. They then informed
that _C. M. von Weber_ was composing music for the same subject as an
opera, and had already finished the first act. This induced me to lay
my work aside, as I had reason to fear _Weber_ would come forward with
his opera much earlier than I. As it afterwards proved, however, such
was not the case; for the “Freischütz” appeared first in 1820, and
my opera “Zelmira and Azor,” which I began almost a year later, was
already given on the 4th April 1819. Nevertheless I have not regretted
that I abandoned the materials of _Appel’s_ story, for with my music,
which is not adapted to please the multitude and excite the popular
enthusiasm, I should never have met with the unexampled success that
the “Freischütz” met with.

As I was now again obliged to look about me for a libretto, I
began meanwhile to write quartets. The chief reason for this was
the solicitation of some lovers of that kind of music to institute
public-quartet performances, which had not hitherto been given in
Frankfort. At these I wished also to be enabled to bring forward some
new compositions, and for that purpose I wrote in the course of the
summer the three quartets (Op. 45). When I played the first of these at
a musical soirée at _Schelble’s_, _Jean Paul_ was one of the audience.
He appeared to interest himself very much for this new composition
and ascribed to it a highly poetical signification, of which while
composing it I certainly never thought, but which recurred in a very
striking manner to my mind at every subsequent performance of the
quartet.

On the 29th July 1818 my family was again increased by the birth of
a little daughter, who was christened by the name of Theresa after
her godmother Mrs. _Thomae_ of Cleves, and was held over the font
by my friend _Speyer_. _Dorette_ now felt very happy at having a
permanent-dwelling place, so as to be able to devote herself wholly to
the care of the new visitor.

In the autumn began the first set of the public quartets in the little
saloon of the “Rothes Haus.” The assistants were: second violin
the concertmaster Mr. _Hofmann_, viol Mr. _Bayer_, violoncello Mr.
_Hasemann_, at that time bass-trumpet of the orchestra, and afterwards
first violincellist of the Cassel orchestra. I brought forward some
quartets of _Haydn_, _Mozart_, _Beethoven_, and some of my own, which
we had practised in the most careful manner in two rehearsals. They
made therefore a great sensation by the precision of their execution,
and were so well received that in the course of the winter another set
could be given.

In September 1818 I began also the composition of the new opera.
Mr. _Ihlée_ had proposed as subject the text of the formerly very
much admired opera “_La Belle et la Bête_,” by _Gretry_. As this at
that time had wholly disappeared from the German repertory, and was
wholly unknown to the younger generation, I readily assented to the
proposition; for from my earliest youth I had a predeliction for this
tale, and even remembered an air of _Gretry’s_ opera, that namely of
_Zelmira_ with the echo, which as a boy I had frequently heard my
mother sing, and also sung myself. Herr _Ihlée_ offered to alter the
text to the style of the modern opera, which, as he well understood
stage business, he did greatly to my satisfaction.--At that time
_Rossini’s_ music became then first known in Germany, and “Tancred” in
particular brought down a very storm of applause in Frankfort. Almost
at every sitting of the theatre I was obliged to hear from Mr. _Leers_
the words: “That is an opera that pleases and attracts the public,
you must bring out more of that kind!”--Little as I was an admirer of
_Rossini’s_ music, as the severe criticism thereof in the diary of the
Italian journey shews, yet the applause which “Tancred” had met with
in Frankfort was not wholly without influence on the style of my new
opera. I was furthermore induced to this by the considerable power
of execution possessed by four singers (Miss _Friedel_, the sisters
_Campagnoli_, and Mr. _Schelble_) who were at my command. This explains
why the music to “Zelmira and Azor” has so much colouring and vocal
ornamentation in the parts sustained by the three sisters, and that of
Azor. The opera was studied most attentively by the singers and the
orchestra, and met with great success at the very first representation,
indeed a more general one than “Faust,” which however, at a later
period, both in Frankfort and the rest of Germany, reassumed the place
in public estimation which its real merits as an opera more properly
justified.

During the course of the winter I gave another concert with my wife,
for which I had written a new sonata for harp and violin. As, since I
had once more a fixed residence, pupils again presented themselves,
both native and foreign, I was overburdened with work the whole
winter. When spring at length came I was therefore very desirous of
a little rest and I was well pleased when four of my earlier musical
friends of Rudolstadt, Messrs. _von Holleben_, _Müller_, _Sommer_ and
_Methfessel_, came to Frankfort and urged me to accompany them to
Mannheim, where a musical festival was to take place. I managed to get
leave of absence for eight days, and joined the party. From Darmstadt,
where the charming mountain-road begins, we went on foot to Heidelberg,
and carried our necessary luggage in knapsacks, on our backs. Three
of the Rudolstädter, _Müller_, _Sommer_ and _von Holleben_, who were
first-rate harmonists, had strapped their horns upon their knapsacks,
and _Methfessel_, who accompanied our four-part songs with the
guitar, carried his instrument slung by a band over his shoulders. In
this manner our travelling-party, notwithstanding their respectable
exterior, had completely the appearance of an itinerant music-band, and
as, in high and jocund spirits, we always entered all the villages and
small towns either playing or singing, we had always a long train of
jovial listeners, and numerous applications to “strike up,” which, to
the great regret of the applicants, were of course not complied with.
We made short stages, and ascended the ruins of several castles which
lay near our road. There we partook of the meal brought with us from
the neighbouring inn and seasoned it with horn-music, song and mirthful
jest. On the third day we arrived at Heidelberg, where we visited the
castle. A flourish of horns soon brought a number of hearers around us,
who were highly delighted with our four-part songs and _Methfessel’s_
comic lyrics. As we had inscribed our names in the visitors’ book, it
soon became known in the town that I and some musical friends were on
our way to the festival at Mannheim, and in the evening a deputation
from the Heidelberg musical society made its appearance at our inn with
an invitation to make the passage to Mannheim the next morning on board
the society’s vessel. We consented with very great pleasure.

This voyage was the most brilliant episode in the whole journey. When I
and my companions set foot on board the vessel, which was dressed out
with festoons of flowers up to the top of the mast, we were welcomed
in the most friendly manner by the already assembled male and female
singers, with a choral-song. While the boat was passing directly
afterwards between high rocky banks on either side, which threw back
the echo, the Rudolstädter first returned the compliment with their
horns, which had a fine effect there. Then followed our songs, and
_Methfessel_ again distinguished himself in particular by the execution
of his humorous songs, which he accompanied in a masterly manner on the
guitar. These put the whole company in the merriest mood. As we drew
near the end of our journey we were met and welcomed by the Mannheim
musical society on board several boats decorated with flags and
flowers. My presence on board the Heidelberg boat was already known.
The committee of the festival therefore saluted me and my companions,
and presented us with tickets of admission to the rehearsals and
performances. To me even apartments were offered in a private house,
which I was however obliged to decline, as it would separate me from
my companions. As soon as we had landed, therefore, we sought for an
inn. Unfortunately, however, we found it already so full of visitors
that we were obliged all five to accommodate ourselves in one room, and
the next day the crowd of applicants for lodging was so great that we
had great difficulty in protecting our room from the invasion of yet
more guests. In the evening, since, as may be readily supposed, beds
were not to be had, we lay down contented beside each other on some
clean straw, nor was our good humour in the least disturbed thereby.

As regards the musical performances, I now only recollect that I and
my companions, who, together with me, had assisted at the festival at
Frankenhausen, were not so satisfied with the effect of the music here
as there, which can alone be accounted for by the circumstance that the
performance at Frankenhausen took place in the church, a place sonorous
and well adapted on account of its excellent acoustic qualities, while
at Mannheim they were given in the theatre.

On the third day we set out upon our return journey. As the road from
Mannheim to Mayence would have been too uninteresting to travel on
foot, we hired a boat with two vigorous rowers, and went by water. But
in this way also the journey was rather tedious. We had, moreover,
passed the previous night at a ball, and felt very tired; it was
therefore no wonder that we sought to make up for the lost night’s
rest, and passed the greater part of the time in sleep. On our arrival
at Mayence we nevertheless met with a little adventure which put us in
the merriest mood during the last hours of our being together. Evening
was drawing in when, after our landing, we proceeded to look for the
best inn in the town. Just as we were about to enter it, in the already
described dress of travelling musicians, the host, who was looking out
of the window, called out to us in an angry tone of voice: “Be off with
you! we don’t take in such people as you!” This style of address amused
me amazingly, as I had frequently joked my companions upon their dress,
and laughing, I called out to Mr. _von Holleben_: “High warden of
forests, did you hear that? they will not take us in here; we must look
for another inn!” But the host, startled at hearing my friend addressed
by such a grand title, darted down-stairs in a minute and made his
appearance immediately in the street, and with bows innumerable
entreated the gentlemen to walk in and graciously pardon his silly
mistake! As we followed him into the house and were all ushered by him
into the well-lighted dining room, his embarrassment was ludicrous in
the extreme: our highly respectable appearance seemed now to allay all
his fears, when the unlucky horns strapped upon the knapsacks, and
_Methfessel’s_ guitar suspended from his neck, excited new doubts as
to whether we were guests worthy of entertainement in his house. But
when we ordered three rooms with wax lights (which latter I purposely
mentioned), five beds and a good supper, all uttered in the curt
imperative tone of persons of importance, his last lingering scruples
vanished, and his whole demeanour became thenceforth cringingly
servile. This specimen of the mean vulgarity of innkeeper-nature amused
us long, and was subject of mirth up to the last moment of our being
together. The next morning, as my leave of absence was expired, I
returned to Frankfort and the Rudolstädter continued their journey down
the Rhine, as they had proposed.

As I entered my house, the children ran joyfully to meet me, but my
wife, who had been in very low spirits at our parting the week before,
was now suffering extremely from the shock sustained from a fright. In
order that the reader may understand the cause of this, I must advert
to some previous incidents that had occurred while in Frankfort.

In the latter part of the autumn of 1818 _Turner_, a player on the
hautboy, came to Frankfort. I had previously known him in Brunswick,
where we were both members of the orchestra. Already at that time
_Turner_ distinguished himself greatly by his skill upon that
instrument, as also by his talent for composition. Upon his subsequent
travels, particularly while in Vienna, where he lived some time, he
had acquired the reputation of being the first of living hautboyists.
At the same time, however, many strange stories were current of his
residence there; of a _liaison_ with a lady of rank, whom he afterwards
accused of having given him poison in a cup of coffee. A criminal
inquiry was instituted, whereat it was elicited that he had periodical
fits of insanity, at which times he was possessed with the fixed idea
of being poisoned. These relations concerning him, which passed from
mouth to mouth, imparted to him a certain interest, and his concerts
were on that account most numerously attended. I found him on his
arrival in Frankfort--for he immediately paid me a visit--more earnest
and reserved, it is true, than when I was previously acquainted with
him in Brunswick, but otherwise remarked nothing whatever peculiar
in him. As his play pleased very much, and as I knew moreover that
his orchestral skill was very great, and as from _George Döring’s_
retirement from the orchestra (he had now thought of devoting himself
entirely to authorship), a vacancy had occurred for a hautboy player--I
proposed at the next sitting of the theatrical committee that _Turner_
should be engaged as first hautboy. The salary he asked was not
unusually high, and therefore the proposition met with no opposition,
even Mr. _Leers_ himself making no objection. _Turner_ took his place
therefore in the orchestra, and proved a real acquisition by the
tasteful execution of his soli and by his fine tone. After some time,
however, a remarkable melancholy was observed in him, which gradually
increased so much, that at length not a word above a whisper was to be
got from him. Nevertheless he always performed his orchestral duties
with punctuality, so that I hoped these periods of sadness would pass
off without further results. Soon however they assumed the character
of complete aberration of mind, in which the fixed idea of the Vienna
poisoning again evinced itself. It was now full time to remove him
from the orchestra, to prevent the possibility of some unpleasant
occurrence. _Döring_, a near relation of _Turner’s_, undertook to
provide for him and get him cured, and engaged also to temporarily
fill his place. The malady now soon increased with such violence,
that it was necessary to have him constantly watched by keepers. One
evening, nevertheless, he succeeded in escaping from them scarcely
half-clothed. During a violent snow-storm he wandered about in the open
fields half the night, nor did he return home till towards morning,
covered with a thick crust of snow and ice. As he had immediately
gone to bed in this condition, the doctor found him in the morning
bathed in perspiration and in a violent fever. This perhaps, however,
brought about a crisis, for from that day he got better, and he was
soon enabled to resume his duties in the orchestra with fully restored
sanity of mind. I remarked, nevertheless, that for about eight days
in every month, and always with the moon’s increase, he was visited
by a slight return of his melancholy madness, which announced itself
beforehand by a fixed look and a certain feverish restlessness. I
then, with _Döring’s_ assistance, managed to keep him away from the
orchestra for a few days, until his more cheerful look bespoke anew
his recovery. In this manner _Turner_ performed his duties up to the
summer and it was hoped that by degrees he would also be cured of
these slighter attacks also. In the latter part of this time he again,
as formerly, called upon me now and then, and even spent the evening
with me, and demeaned himself in a friendly manner towards my wife,
and shewed much interest in the children. When therefore I went to
Mannheim with my Rudolstädt friends, it did not at first appear at all
strange to _Dorette_ to see him walk one morning into the room; but as,
without any salutation or uttering a word, he sat down opposite to her
and gazed upon her with his eyes fixed, she began to feel uneasy, and
was at length seized with fear. As she was quite alone with him (the
children being at school) she was about to call in a needlewoman, who
was sewing in the adjoining room; but scarcely had she risen than he
also sprang up and clasped her in his arms. With a shriek of terror
she tore herself from his grasp, rushed into the adjoining room, the
door of which the sempstress had then just opened, and she succeeded
in closing and bolting the door before _Turner_ could follow her.
There was, however, unfortunately no further issue from this room, and
the two terrified women found themselves besieged by the madman. His
endeavours to force the lock they met by pressing against the door
with their whole weight, and all the strength which terror imparted
to them; and succeeded, for after a few vain efforts he abandoned his
purpose, ran down the stairs and out of the house. _Dorette_ now felt
about to faint, was obliged to send for the doctor, and kept her bed
for some days. After my return, her pleasure thereat and the assurance
of again being under my protection, soon restored her, and thus this
circumstance was fortunately attended by no worse results. For the
unfortunate young man this last violent outbreak of his malady entailed
his discharge by the directors of the theatre. After again recovering,
he went to Holland, and at first gave there several concerts in which
he was greatly applauded, and which were also very remunerative; but
upon a fresh attack was put into a mad house, where he soon afterwards
died. The world lost in him a very great musical genius, the full
development of which was barred by the sad affliction that befel him.

Meanwhile the acrimony of feeling that existed between Mr. _Leers_
and myself became constantly more apparent, and a sitting of the
directors seldom passed over without a regular dispute. He asserted
that I required too much time for the study and production of new
pieces because I was too fastidious in the matter. He expressed the
opinion, that a new opera ought to be studied every fortnight, or at
least an old one completed in those parts that required to be newly
filled up. In vain I represented to him, that it was impossible for an
opera that was carelessly studied to go off well, and therefore that
it never could give satisfaction; that once brought into discredit,
it would draw no audience, and then the time and money expended upon
it would be sheer waste. With this self-willed, obstinate man, who,
moreover, before my appointment had never met with any opposition in
the management, every sensible representation was ineffectual; and
as I would not allow any opera to be brought out until it had been
studied thoroughly as far as the means and strength of the company
allowed, our contest never ceased. This, together with an intimation
made by Mr. _Leers_ at a general meeting of the shareholders, “that for
their theatre they did not require a musical artist of eminence, but
merely a good indefatigable workman, who would devote his whole time
and energies to the theatre,” induced me to give in my resignation at
the next meeting of the committee, to date from the end of September
(1819). The news of this soon spread through the town, and excited
general regret among the lovers of music. _Börne_, in his journal
“The Balance” gave expression to his sentiments on the subject, and
indeed in a by no means gentle manner towards the theatrical-committee
of management. I left Frankfort with a light heart, for my summons
to that town had only been an interruption to the gratification of
my love of travelling; but my good wife was very grieved at it--she
who looked forward to the consequent separation from the children, as
these, from requiring now a regular school education, could no longer
be taken with us on our artistic tours. But I consoled her nevertheless
with the promise that she should always pass the summer months with
her children, and only travel with me during a period of from four to
five months in the winter. Before my departure from Frankfort I had
accepted an engagement from the Philharmonic Society of London for
the next season of the sitting of Parliament, which engagement was
offered me by _Ferdinand Ries_, the celebrated pianist and composer,
in the name of the society. This had been instituted but a few years
before by from twelve to sixteen of the most eminent musical artists in
London: _Clementi_, the two _Cramers_, _Moscheles_, _Ries_, _Potter_,
_Smart_, and others, with the object of giving every year eight grand
concerts during the season. Notwithstanding the very high price of
admission, the number of subscribers was so great, that many hundreds
of those who had inscribed their names could not obtain seats at the
commencement of the season, and could obtain them only by degrees in
the course of the summer. The funds of the society were therefore so
great, that they could not only engage the first artists and singers in
London for the soli in their concerts, but the most reputed musicians
on the Continent.--In this manner I was also engaged for the season
of 1820, and for a considerable remuneration, which secured to me the
expenses of the journey thither and return, and the expenses of a four
months’ residence in London, I undertook the performance of a fourfold
duty. I was required, namely, to direct some of the eight concerts, to
play soli in some, to assist in all of them as orchestra violinist,
and lastly to leave in the hands of the society as their own property
one of my orchestral compositions. At the same time a benefit concert
was also insured to me in the rooms of the society, with the joint
assistance of the orchestra. Although my wife was not included in this
engagement, yet I could not make up my mind to leave her behind me for
four long months. It was therefore resolved, on consulting with my
family, that my wife should accompany me and make her appearance as
artiste in London at least in my own concerts. As the season commenced
in the middle of February, and therefore the sea-passage would be made
at the roughest time of the year, we resolved, in order to shorten it
as much as possible, to go by way of Calais; and in order to be enabled
to give concerts on the journey in the Belgian and French towns, to set
out six or eight weeks earlier. We first proceeded to Gandersheim to
my parents, who had undertaken the care and education of the children
during the winter, and then set out upon an artistic tour to Hamburg,
where we gave two concerts with very great success. I played there,
before highly respectable audiences, my new quartets, which had been
previously published there: they were exceedingly well accompanied,
and as violinist upon those occasions I made the most sensation with
my two solo-quartets. I played likewise a few times the two quintets,
and I found the passion for this kind of music to be greater here
than anywhere else, except perhaps in Vienna. In the catalogue of my
compositions, _Goethe’s_ ballad “Wenn die Reben blühen” is enumerated
as composed by me in Hamburg, but I do not now recollect the reason of
its being so designated.

We then proceeded to Berlin, Dresden, Leipsic, Cassel, and other
places, in all of which we gave concerts, but respecting all of them
I now no longer remember anything particular. Of our performances in
Berlin one of the newspapers gave a most favourable notice.

In Brussels we found another travelling artist-couple who, like
ourselves, gave performances on the harp and violin. They were Monsieur
_Alexandre Boucher_ and wife from Paris. I had already heard a good
deal about him and was therefore very desirous of making his personal
acquaintance. _Boucher_ had the reputation of being a distinguished
violinist, but a great charlatan also. He bore a striking resemblance
to _Napoleon_, both in the features of his face and in his figure, and
did his best to turn this resemblance to account. He had acquired by
study the deportment of the exiled emperor, his way of wearing his hat,
and of taking a pinch of snuff with the greatest possible exactitude.
When on his artistic tours he arrived in a town where he was unknown,
he immediately presented himself with these acquired arts on the public
promenade or in the theatre, in order to attract the notice of the
public and to be talked about; he even endeavoured to spread the report
that he was persecuted by the present sovereign and driven from France
on account of his resemblance to _Napoleon_, because it brought back
the recollection of the beloved exile to the mind of the people. In
Lille, at least, as I there afterwards learned, he had announced his
concert in the following manner: “Une malheureuse ressemblance me force
de m’expatrier; je donnerai donc, avant de quitter ma belle patrie,
un concert d’adieux,” etc. That announcement had contained also some
similar charlatanerie, as follows: “Je jouerai ce fameux concerto de
_Viotti_ en mi-mineur, dont l’éxécution à Paris m’a gagné le surnom:
_l’Alexandre_ des violons.”

I was just on the point of calling upon Monsieur _Boucher_, when he
anticipated me by paying me a visit. He offered in a most friendly
manner to assist me in the arrangements for my concert, and shewed
himself in every respect, deduction made of his self-glorification, a
very amiable man. He introduced us to several families who were lovers
of music, who then by inviting us to their musical parties, procured
for us the opportunity of hearing the _Boucher_-couple. Both shewed in
their joint performances great skill; but all the compositions they
played were poor and barren, and of those of Monsieur _Boucher_ himself
I no longer recollect anything. At first Monsieur _Boucher_ played a
quartet of _Haydn_, but introduced so many irrelevant and tasteless
ornaments, that it was impossible for me to feel any pleasure in it.
The manner in which _Boucher_ allowed himself to be waited upon by his
wife on these occasions was remarkable. When he had taken his seat at
the quartet desk, she would ask him for the key of the violin-case,
open it, bring him his violin, then the bow, which she had previously
resined; she then laid the music before him and lastly seated herself
near him, to turn over the pages. When we were then invited to play,
the whole of this process was inverted; for I not only fetched my own
instrument, but took my wife’s harp out of the case also, led her to
the seat where she was to play and then tuned up, all of which in the
previous performance had been the business of Madame _Boucher_. But I
took upon me the tuning of the harp upon every appearance in public,
not only to save my wife the trouble, but also to bring the instrument
to a perfectly pure and tempered pitch, which, as is well known, is not
so easy a matter. We played one of our brillant duets, and met with
great applause. _Boucher_ in particular seemed charmed with my play,
and he may perhaps have meant it with some sincerity; for in a letter
of recommendation which he gave me to Baron _d’Assignies_ in Lille,
and which the latter shewed to me as a curiosity, after describing the
characteristics of my play; he said: “Enfin, si je suis, comme on le
prétend, le _Napoléon_ des violons, Mr. _Spohr_ est bien le Moreau!”

My concert took place in the new large theatre and met with marked
approbation; but the receipts, after deduction of the very considerable
expenses, were but small, for our fame had not yet reached Brussels.
It is true we were invited by lovers of music and the public journals
to give a second concert; but as a favourable day did not immediately
offer, and our stay at the chief hotel where we had stopped was very
expensive, we preferred setting out immediately on our journey to Lille.

Arrived there, my first visit was to Monsieur _Vogel_, who had been
mentioned to me as the best violinist in the town and as director
of the dilettanti-concerts. I did not find him at home, but Madame
_Vogel_, who received me in a very cordial manner. When I told her my
name, her face became animated, and she anxiously inquired whether I
was the composer of the nonette, the theme of which she sang to me. As
I smiling replied yes, with an outburst of French vivacity she threw
her arms round my neck, and exclaimed: “Oh how delighted my husband
well be, _car il est fou de votre Nonetto!_” I had scarcely returned
to the inn, when Monsieur _Vogel_ appeared with a countenance lit up
with pleasure, and welcomed me with the warmth of an old friend. In the
house of this amiable couple we passed some very happy hours, and gave
a concert in the saloon of the dilettanti society, the arrangements
for which were made by Monsieur _Vogel_, the whole of the members of
the society being desirous to hear the composer of the so frequently
performed nonette play in person. The joint play of my wife and self
was especially received with such enthusiastic acclamation, that the
day was immediately fixed for a second concert. Some lovers of music
from the neighbouring town of Douay, who had come over to the concert,
invited us in the name of the musical society of that place to give
a concert in Douay also, and insured to us the sale of 400 tickets
at five francs each. I had therefore the finest prospect of carrying
from Lille plenty of money, when an unexpected occurrence quashed
all my hopes. The carriage was already packed and we were on the
point of starting for Douay, when the report was spread in the town
that the telegraph had just announced from Paris the assassination
of the Duke _de Berri_. It was not long before placards were posted
at the corners of the streets by order of the mayoralty, announcing
officially this mournful intelligence to the inhabitants of Lille. As
all concert-giving was now necessarily suspended throughout France,
but the period of my engagement in London not yet arrived, I was
easily induced by Messrs. _Vogel_, _d’Assignies_, and other lovers
of music, to remain yet longer in Lille. Private musical parties now
took place almost daily, and I had thus an opportunity of performing
all my quartets, quintets, and compositions for the harp to this
circle of enthusiastic lovers of music. I found on these occasions a
very sympathetic and graceful auditory, and therefore still recall
with infinite pleasure the remembrance of those musical soirées. At
these many other interesting things were related to me concerning
_Boucher_. Among others, upon one occasion, in the midst of his play,
when according to his idea something had gone wrong, he suddenly ceased
playing, and without paying any regard to those who accompanied him,
he again repeated the unlucky passage, addressing himself aloud with
the words: “Cela n’a pas réussi; allons, _Boucher_, encore une fois!”
The termination of his second and last concert was also of a highly
comic character. As his concluding subject he played a rondo of his own
composition which had at the end an impromptu cadence. At the rehearsal
he had begged the gentlemen dilettanti to fall in right vigorously with
their final tutti immediately after the shake of his cadence, and added
that he would give them the signal by stamping with his foot. In the
evening, when this concluding piece began, it was already very late,
and the dilettanti were growing impatient to get home to supper. But
when the cadence in which _Boucher_ as usual exhibited all his artistic
_tours de force_ seemed never likely to end, some of the gentlemen
put their instruments into their cases and slipped out. This was so
infectious, that in a few minutes the whole orchestra had disappeared.
_Boucher_, who in the enthusiasm of his play had observed nothing of
this, lifted his foot already at the commencement of his concluding
shake, in order to draw the attention of the orchestra beforehand to
the agreed signal. When he had now concluded the shake he was fully
satisfied of what would follow, namely the most vigorous entry of
the orchestra and the burst of applause it was to bring down from
the enraptured audience. His astonishment may therefore be imagined
when all that fell upon his ear was the loud stamp of his own foot.
Horrified he stared aghast around him, and beheld all the music desks
abandoned. But the public, who had already prepared themselves to see
this moment arrive, burst out into an uproarious laughter, in which
_Boucher_, with the best stomach he could, was obliged to join.

The time for our departure for London had now arrived. As I was
desirous of purchasing in London a new _Erard_ harp with the improved
_double movement_ for my wife, we left the old instrument in the care
of Monsieur _Vogel_. The family were very pleased at this, as they now
reckoned with certainty upon seeing us again on our return journey.

Arrived in Calais, I immediately went to the packet-boat office to take
our berth for the passage. Thence I took a walk to the port, to look
at the vessel in which we were to sail in the afternoon. As I now,
however, remarked that the sea, even in the inside of the harbour, was
very rough, and ran so high outside that the waves broke high over the
pier head, I lost all inclination to cross with the sea so stormy, and
hastened back to the office, to have the berths taken transferred for
the following day. In the afternoon while taking a walk in the town I
took good care not to take my wife near the sea, so that, dreading the
passage as she already did, she might not observe how rough it was.
The thoughts of being obliged to cross at so stormy a season of the
year with my delicate and nervous wife disturbed my rest throughout
the night; as soon as day broke I hastened therefore again down to
the harbour to see whether the storm had not abated. It appeared to
me to have done so, and I therefore fetched _Dorette_, brought her
on board, and advised her to lie down in the cabin. A good-natured
German who served as seaman on board this English packet-boat, promised
me to take every care of her and bring her all she might require.
This enabled me to go upon deck, where in the open air I hoped to be
somewhat enabled to resist sea-sickness. Meanwhile the preparations
were made for departure, and the vessel was towed out with long ropes
close along the left-hand side jetty of the harbour by from sixty to
eighty men. Scarcely, however, had she reached this, when a gigantic
wave seized her and in a moment hurled her to the opposite side of the
harbour, so that she was almost thrown against the extreme point of the
right-hand pier. Immediately upon this the waves broke over the deck,
and the hatches and cabin doors were obliged to be closed. Of all the
passengers I was the only one who remained on deck, and had seated
myself on a bench near the mast, round the foot of which was piled a
high coil of cable. Here I hoped to be protected from the water that
poured in torrents over the deck; but the waves soon broke in over the
bows to such a height, that to prevent being completely drenched by
them I was compelled to stand up upon the bench. I had not done this
many times, before I found my strength fail me to repeat it; and in
a short time therefore in spite of my thick cloak I found myself wet
through to the skin, which made my already wretched condition but more
distressing. In addition to this I was then seized with such violent
cramp in the stomach from the straining which follows when the stomach
has nothing more to yield, that I thought I should expire under it.
Fortunately, however, favoured by the storm, the passage was an
unusually quick one. Nevertheless, the three hours of its duration
seemed to me an eternity;--at length we arrived at Dover, but another
misfortune awaited us here; for on account of the tide being at ebb,
we could not enter the harbour, and were constrained to disembark the
passengers in open boats in the offing. For this purpose as soon as
we had cast anchor, the boats were lowered, and we were called to get
into them to be put on shore in the harbour. I now saw my suffering
fellow-passengers come from below, pale and trembling like ghosts from
the grave, and it was very evident that they had not fared better in
the cabin than I upon deck. At length, supported by the kind sailor,
my poor wife appeared also, in a most suffering condition. I was just
about to hasten to her, when a young and beautiful girl, whom I had
already remarked, it is true, when we came on board, but who then did
not think me worthy of a look, suddenly threw her arms round my neck,
and without uttering a word, clung close to me. I readily guessed the
motive of this extraordinary conduct. The poor, terrified creature had
been a joint spectator of the manner in which the first passengers
had been put on board the boat, and how when it had been lifted by
the still surging waves as high as the deck of the vessel, it then
sank as it were into an abyss, and was again lifted up, which was the
moment seized by the sailors to thrust another passenger or pitch
another object of luggage into it. This rough method of proceeding had
so terrified her, that she left the arm of the female who accompanied
her, and clung to me, whom she may have considered the strongest of the
passengers. There was no time for explanation; I bore her therefore in
my arms into the boat, and then hastened back to my wife, to put her
also into it. Scarcely had I effected this without accident, when the
still terrified fair one clung close to me anew, and indeed so as to
excite _Dorette’s_ extreme surprise. But the danger of the passage was
too absorbing to permit of any remark on the subject, and upon landing
the young girl had scarcely felt the firm ground under her feet than
she left hold of me without a word of thanks, and taking the arm
of her companion walked away. That she was some young lady of rank
accompanied by her governess, may be readily imagined from this truly
English behaviour.

Arrived at the inn, I exchanged my thoroughly wet clothes for dry ones,
and having satisfied our re-awakened appetite at the _table d’hôte_,
and gained strength for the further journey, we immediately took
places in the coach, which was to leave in the afternoon for London.
The greater part of this journey was made at night, and when on the
following morning we were set down in the yard of the coach-office
with our luggage, I found myself in very great difficulty. In spite of
every endeavour, I could not succeed in finding any one either there
or in the office to whom I could explain myself, for I knew not a
word of English, and none of all whom I addressed, understood either
German or French. Nothing therefore remained for me but to hunt up some
interpreter in the public street while my wife watched the luggage.
But it was yet early in the morning, and I saw therefore none but
people of the lower class, from whom I could hope nothing. At length
a better dressed man approached, whom I first addressed in German,
then, as he shook his head, expressed to him my wants in French; but
the man shrugged his shoulders and went on his way. A second person,
however, who had witnessed this scene, approached me, and asked me in
good French what it was I wanted? He was one who hired himself out as
day-interpreter, and out-door servant at hotels, and at my request
immediately fetched a hackney-coach for me, to drive to Mr. _Ries_,
whose address I fortunately remembered. We were now soon taken to the
lodgings that had been engaged for us, where we could at length repose
from the fatigues of our voyage and night journey.

The next morning, on which a meeting of the directors of the
Philharmonic society was to assemble, I was to be introduced to them by
Mr. _Ries_. I therefore made a careful toilette, and expressly for the
occasion put on a bright red Turkish shawl-pattern waistcoat forming
part of my ward-robe, and which was considered on the Continent as a
most elegant article and of the newest fashion. Scarcely had I appeared
in it in the street than I attracted the general attention of all who
passed. The grown-up people contented themselves with gazing at me
with looks of surprise, and then passed on their way; but the young
urchins of the street, were loud in their remarks, which unfortunately
I did not understand, and therefore could not imagine what it was in
me that so much displeased them. By degrees, however, they formed a
regular tail behind me, which grew constantly louder in speech and
more and more unruly. A passer-by addressed me and probably gave me
some explanation of its meaning; but as it was in English, I could
derive no benefit from it. Fortunately Mr. _Ries_’ house was not very
distant, and I reached it shortly after. His wife, a young amiable
English woman, and who spoke French fluently, now soon solved for me
the problem of my adventure. The death of George III. had but recently
taken place and a general mourning had been officially ordered, and
according to English custom no person durst appear in public otherwise
than in a black suit. In all other respects it is true my dress was
black, and therefore in accordance with the requisition, but the
unfortunate red waistcoat contrasted with it but the more prominently.
Mrs. _Ries_ observed to me that I had doubtless to thank my imposing
height and my earnest expression of countenance for having escaped from
the rude licence of the boys in the street, and from their resort to
its more open exhibition of pelting me with mud. In order to avoid all
further offence, _Ries_ then first drove with me to my lodgings, in
order to exchange my red waistcoat for a black one.

After I had been welcomed in a friendly manner by the directors of the
Philharmonic Society, some of whom spoke German and others French, a
council was held respecting the programme of the first concert. At this
I was required to play solo twice and to lead as first violin. To this
I replied that I was quite ready to perform the first, but must beg
that I might be permitted to lead in one of the subsequent concerts,
as my solo play would appear to less advantage if both were required
of me on one and the same evening. Clear as this was acknowledged to
be by some of the gentlemen who were themselves solo-players, yet
it gave rise at first to a long and earnest discussion, as it was
contrary to the custom of the society, but at length it was complied
with. Still greater subject of offence, however, was my request to be
permitted on this my first appearance to play my own compositions only.
The Philharmonic Society, in order to exclude from their programmes
all shallow and worthless virtuosi-concerti, had laid down the law,
that with the exception of the pianoforte concerti of _Mozart_ and
_Beethoven_ no similar musical pieces should be played, and that
solo players had only to perform that which they should select.
Nevertheless, after _Ries_ had continued the discussion in English,
and therefore unintelligibly to me, and represented to the gentlemen
that my violin-concerts in Germany would therefore become excluded
by their bann, they at length yielded in this also. I therefore at
the first Philharmonic concert, came forward with my cantabile scena,
and in the second part with a solo quartet in E major, and met with
great and general applause. As a composer it afforded me an especial
gratification that the whole of the directors now shared the opinion
of Mr. _Ries_, and as a violinist the greatest pleasure, that old
_Viotti_, who had always been my pattern, and was to have been my
instructor in my youth, was among the auditory and spoke to me in great
praise of my play. As I had thus so successfully passed through the
ordeal of my first appearance in London, I devoted the next day to
the delivery of my letters of recommendation. Not knowing a word of
English this was for me by no means a pleasant business, and brought me
into frequent perplexity. Not having been told that in London people
announced themselves by knocking at the street doors, and gentlemen
always by giving a succession of loud rapid knocks; I, in German
fashion, rang very gently at the bell, which is done in London only
by those who have business with the kitchen, and I could not imagine
why the servants who opened the door always looked at me with an
expression of astonishment, and could not at all imagine that I wished
my name to be announced to their masters. As those also for whom my
visit was intended frequently understood as little as their servants
either German or French, the most perplexing scenes were of frequent
occurrence. I was however exceedingly amused by one at _Rothschild’s_,
to whom I brought a letter of recommendation from his brother at
Frankfort, and a letter of credit from _Speyer_. After _Rothschild_
had taken both letters from me and glanced hastily over them, he said
to me in a more subdued tone of voice: “I have just read (pointing to
the “Times”) that you managed your business very efficiently. But I
understand nothing of music; this is my music (slapping his purse),
they understand that on the exchange!” Upon which, with a nod of the
head, he terminated the audience.--But just as I had reached the door,
he called after me: “You can come and dine with me, too, out at my
country-house!” A few days afterwards also Madame _Rothschild_ invited
me to dinner; but I did not go, although she repeated the invitation.
Nevertheless, the letter of recommendation to _Rothschild_ was not
wholly useless, for he took a whole box at my benefit concert.

As immediately on our arrival in London I was obliged to prepare for
my appearance in public; and my wife was engrossed with our domestic
arrangements, we had unfortunately delayed writing to apprise my
parents at Gandersheim of our safe arrival, by which the old folks
were thrown into a state of alarm from which they did not recover for
a long time. The vessel in which we had designed to cross the channel
on the day of our arrival in Calais, and for which I had at first paid
the passage money, and had the tickets transferred for the next day’s
packet, on account of the roughness of the weather, had been driven
completely down channel and was given up for lost, until it at length
turned up again somewhere on the coast of Spain. A French newspaper had
cited our names among the passengers on board. What therefore could
be natural, than that the French papers should collectively announce:
“The artist-couple _Spohr_ and wife have perished on the passage to
England.” This was soon copied into German papers, and to wit into the
country paper taken in by my parents. Unfortunately, this first fell
into the hands of my mother, who was already in a state of anxiety from
the long delay of letters from England. A shriek of anguish and
an immediate fainting of it were the result of this. The whole family
was thrown into confusion, and when at length my mother recovered her
senses, there began a general outburst of tears and mourning. My sister
first recovered some calmness of mind, and urged as subject of hope and
consideration how frequently newspaper reports were wholly false. She
also entreated that no one should speak on the subject in the presence
of my children, who were now seen returning from school, which request
was faithfully promised. But my mother could not refrain from embracing
those she believed to be now orphans with more than usual tenderness.
This circumstance, together with the yet swollen eyes of the mourners,
excited no small astonishment in the children, and when no reply was
made to the inquiries they made respecting these incidents, and no one
would sit down to supper, they also began to weep, without knowing
wherefore.

At length the arrival of the postman put an end to this painful scene.
All sprang up delighted, with the expectation of a letter from England.
But the joy was but of short duration, for when they recognised the
“Frankfort” post-mark and _Speyer’s_ hand writing on the address, they
now indeed believed that they were about to read nothing else than the
corroboration of the sad newspaper report. No one, therefore, had the
courage to open the letter, until at length my sister summoned the
resolution. Scarcely had she glanced her eyes over a few words than
she exclaimed with joy: “They have arrived safe,” and then handed the
letter to my father, who read it aloud to them with great emotion.
_Speyer_ informed them that he had just received the announcement
from the house of _Rothschild_ in London, that they had there made
me a payment of money, and that therefore the newspaper report of
the loss of Herr _Spohr_ and his wife was unfounded, which he had
therewith immediately communicated to allay all their alarm. A general
exclamation of joy was now uttered by all, and the previously neglected
evening meal was turned into a very feast of delight. Immediately after
supper my father seated himself at his writing table, to thank Mr.
_Speyer_ for his kind attention, and to give the editor of the country
paper a sound rating for having thrown a family into such grief by the
heedless insertion of an unauthenticated report in his columns.

The following day my letter arrived also from London, and increased yet
more by its good intelligence the joy of my family.

At the house of Mr. _Ries_ I had made the acquaintance of Mr. _Erard_,
the head of the London firm _Erard Brothers_, and accompanied by my
wife had already visited his show rooms of finished harps. We could
not however immediately make up our minds in the choice of one, as
_Dorette_ wished first to try which size would suit her best, and
in particular whether she could be able to accustom herself to the
new mechanism. Mr. _Erard_ removed all hesitation from her mind in
that respect, by kindly offering to lend her a harp for trial and
choice, during our stay in London, which if it did not suit her, she
could change for another or wholly return. This offer she thankfully
accepted, and began immediately to practise on the new instrument; but
at first she could not well succeed upon it. The new harp, though of
the smallest pattern, was nevertheless considerably larger, as well
as much more strongly strung, than her own, and therefore required a
greater exertion of strength, and it was very difficult for her to
acquire a mastery of the new mechanism _à double movement_, from being
accustomed from her childhood to the single movement. She therefore
soon felt convinced that it would require several months’ practice
on this harp before she could play upon it in public, and I accordingly
resolved to allow her to appear once only, at my benefit-concert, in
order that she might give an additional attraction to it. Meanwhile
my turn had come to direct one of the Philharmonic concerts, and I
had created no less sensation than with my solo play. It was at that
time still the custom there that when symphonies and overtures were
performed, the pianist had the score before him, not exactly to conduct
from it, but only to read after and to play in with the orchestra at
pleasure, which when it was heard, had a very bad effect. The real
conductor was the first violin, who gave the _tempi_, and now and
then when the orchestra began to falter gave the beat with the bow
of his violin. So numerous an orchestra, standing so far apart from
each other as that of the Philharmonic, could not possibly go exactly
together, and in spite of the excellence of the individual members, the
_ensemble_ was much worse than we are accustomed to in Germany. I had
therefore resolved when my turn came to direct, to make an attempt to
remedy this defective system. Fortunately at the morning rehearsal on
the day when I was to conduct the concert, Mr. _Ries_ took the place
at the Piano, and he readily assented to give up the score to me and
to remain wholly excluded from all participation in the performance.
I then took my stand with the score at a separate music desk in front
of the orchestra, drew my directing baton from my coat pocket and gave
the signal to begin. Quite alarmed at such a novel procedure, some of
the directors would have protested against it; but when I besought them
to grant me at least one trial, they became pacified. The symphonies
and overtures that were to be rehearsed were well known to me, and in
Germany I had already directed at their performance. I therefore could
not only give the tempi in a very decisive manner, but indicated also
to the wind instruments and horns all their entries, which ensured to
them a confidence such as hitherto they had not known there. I also
took the liberty, when the execution did not satisfy me, to stop, and
in a very polite but earnest manner to remark upon the manner of
execution, which remarks Mr. _Ries_ at my request interpreted to the
orchestra. Incited thereby to more than usual attention, and conducted
with certainty by the _visible_ manner of giving the time, they played
with a spirit and a correctness such as till then they had never
been heard to play with. Surprised and inspired by this result the
orchestra immediately after the first part of the symphony, expressed
aloud its collective assent to the new mode of conducting, and thereby
overruled all further opposition on the part of the directors. In the
vocal pieces also, the conducting of which I assumed at the request
of Mr. _Ries_, particularly in the recitative, the leading with
the baton, after I had explained the meaning of my movements, was
completely successful, and the singers repeatedly expressed to me their
satisfaction for the precision with which the orchestra now followed
them.

The result in the evening was still more brillant than I could have
hoped for. It is true, the audience were at first startled by the
novelty, and were seen whispering together; but when the music began
and the orchestra executed the well-known symphony with unusual power
and precision, the general approbation was shewn immediately on the
conclusion of the first part by a long-sustained clapping of hands.
The triumph of the baton as a time-giver was decisive, and no one was
seen any more seated at the piano during the performance of symphonies
and overtures. On this evening also the concert overture which I
had composed before I left Frankfort was given for the first time.
As it pleased very much the Philharmonic society accepted it as the
composition which according to my contract I was to leave in their
hands. I kept no copy of it and soon forgot it entirely, so that a few
years afterwards when preparing a thematic catalogue of my compositions
I could not recal to mind the beginning of it, for which reason the
theme of it is wholly wanting in the text.

During the delivery of my letters of introduction in London, as also
upon many other occasions, I had so much felt the want of some one
to serve me as interpreter that I was continually making inquiries
for a person to accompany me who could speak German and English. At
length Mr. _Ries_ bethought him of an old servant of the deceased
_Salomon_[25] of the name of _Johanning_, who would be competent
to fill that office. It is true, that he had retired from service,
and as heir to his late master had bought a small country-house in
the neighbourhood of London. Mr. _Ries_ hoped nevertheless that the
yet vigorous old man would consent to take the situation, for which
purpose he sent for him to town, and the offer on my part was made to
him. When he learned that it was to enter the service of a German and
a musician, and furthermore of a violinist, as his deceased master
had been, he immediately expressed his readiness, and even left it
to my option what remuneration I should give him at the close of
the season. Thenceforth he came every morning into town, and having
first interpreted the wishes of my wife to the landlady respecting
the dinner, he then accompanied me on my rounds of business. From his
long residence in London, however, he had forgotten a great deal of
his German, and his English doubtless was not very classic; for in
his interpreting frequent misunderstandings would take place. When I
had thus presented the remainder of my letters of introduction with
less difficulty than before, I again found time and leisure for new
compositions. I first wrote a symphony (the second D flat, Op. 49) and
played it for the first time at one of the Philharmonic concerts, which
I had to conduct, April 10. 1820. At its rehearsal, it met with very
great approbation both from the orchestra and the numerous persons who
were present; but in the evening it was received with real enthusiasm.
I had in part to thank the numerous and particularly excellent stringed
instruments of the orchestra for this brillant success, and in this
composition I had given them a special opportunity of exhibiting
their skill in playing with purity and precision of _ensemble_. In
fact, as regards the stringed instruments, I have never since heard
that symphony given with so much effect as on that evening. The next
morning all the London newspapers contained reports respecting the
new symphony that had been composed in their town, and vied with each
other in their praise of it. Similar favourable notices of my play upon
every occasion of my appearance soon spread my fame throughout the
town, and pupils readily presented themselves to receive instruction
from me on the violin, as well as ladies who were desirous of being
accompanied on the piano. As all expressed their willingness to pay a
guinea for each hour’s instruction, I readily accepted their offers,
as I considered that I owed it to my family to turn the good fortune
I had met with in London as a musician to my pecuniary advantage. In
this manner, after having first devoted a few hours to composition
at home or to music with my wife, I was running or driving about all
day in huge London, and frequently right weary of it; for the greater
part of my pupils had neither talent nor application, and took lessons
of me merely to be enabled to say that they were pupils of _Spohr_.
I nevertheless call to mind with some pleasure several originals who
amused me with their singularities, and therewith somewhat relieved the
bitter trouble I had with them. One was an old general on half-pay,
but who always made his appearance in full uniform, decorated with all
his orders, and with the extreme of high military bearing. He, as an
exception, came always to my house, but, nevertheless, required to play
for three quarters of an hour only, as according to the custom there
deduction was made of the quarter of an hour for the drive. He came
every morning, Sundays excepted, in his old state carriage, precisely
at 12 o’clock, ordered one of his belaced and powdered footmen to
bring up his violin-case, and after a dumb greeting sat himself down
immediately to his music desk. But previous to that he took out his
watch to see at what o’clock the lesson would commence, and then set
it down close to him. He would bring easy duets with him, chiefly of
_Pleyel_, in which I played second violin. Although there were many
things in his play that indicated the unpractised pupil, I soon saw
that it would not be wise to point them out to him; I contented myself
therefore with accommodating my tones as much as possible to those of
the old gentleman, and so we played one duet after the other in the
best concord. As soon, however, as we had played the three quarters of
an hour, the general would stop, though in the middle of the piece,
take from his waistcoat pocket a one-pound note in which a shilling was
wrapped up, and put it upon the table. He would then take up his watch,
and take leave in the same taciturn manner as he had entered.

[25] It was this _Salomon_, who, as concert-giver, induced his friend
_Haydn_ to visit London and compose symphonies for his concerts; and
to him therefore the musical world owes the twelve most beautiful
symphonies _Haydn_ wrote.

The other original was an old lady whom I accompanied on the piano.
She was a passionate admirer of _Beethoven_, against which I had
nothing to say, but she had the whim, moreover, never to play any
other music than that of her favorite. She had all _Beethoven’s_
pianoforte-compositions, as also his orchestral works arranged for
the piano. Her apartment was also hung with every portrait of him
that she had been able to procure. As many of these differed greatly
in resemblance to each other, she urged me to inform her which most
resembled him of the whole. She possessed also some relics of him which
had been brought to her from Vienna by English travellers, among others
a button of his dressing-gown and a piece of music paper with some note
marks and ink-blots from his hand. When I apprized her that I had lived
for some time on terms of great intimacy with him, I rose greatly in
her estimation, and she had then so much to ask that on some days we
never played at all. She spoke French with tolerably fluency, and could
even bring out a few words of German. Her pianoforte play was not at
all bad, so that I was rather pleased to play the sonatas for piano and
violin. But when she subsequently produced the trios also, and played
with me _without_ violoncello, and then even the piano concertos, in
which, with the exception of first orchestral-violin, which I played,
all else was wanting, it became very clear to me that her enthusiasm
for _Beethoven_ was nothing but affectation, and that she had not the
least perception of the excellence of his compositions.

I became acquainted with a third singular character in the following
manner. One morning a servant in livery brought a letter to me, which
my old _Johanning_ translated in the following manner: “Mr. _Spohr_
is requested to call at the house of the undersigned, at 4 o’clock
precisely.” As I did not know the name appended to the note, nor could
ascertain from the servant the purpose for which my attendance was
requested, I replied thereto in an equally laconic manner: “At the
hour indicated I am engaged and cannot come.” The next morning the
servant reappeared with a second much more polite note: “Mr. _Spohr_
is requested to honour the undersigned with a visit, and to appoint
the time himself.” At the same time the servant had been ordered to
offer his master’s carriage, and as I had been meanwhile informed
that the writer was a celebrated physician, who frequently attended
concerts, and interested himself especially in violin music, I no
longer hesitated to go, but indicated the appointed hour to the servant
and was duly fetched in the doctor’s carriage. An amiable old gentlemen
with snow white hair received me at the foot of the stairs, but we
now discovered to our mutual regret that we could not make ourselves
intelligible to each other, for he spoke neither German nor French.
We stood opposite to each other in great embarassment, until he took
me by the arm and led me into a spacious room on the walls of which a
number of violins were hung. Others had been taken from their cases
and placed upon tables. The doctor handed a bow to me and pointed to
the instruments. I now comprehended that I was to give my opinion of
the respective merits of the violins, and immediately began to try
them and to arrange them in order according to their worth. This was
no easy work to do; for there were a great number of them, and the
old gentleman brought them all in succession, without omitting one.
When at length, after the lapse of about an hour, I had found the
best six of them, and still played on these alternately to discover
the very best of them, I observed that the doctor eyed one of them
with looks of particular fondness, and his face lit up with pleasure
every time I struck the strings. I therefore readily gave the kind old
gentleman the satisfaction of indicating that instrument as the matador
of the whole collection. Quite delighted with this announcement, he
now brought a _viola d’amour_, and began to play a fantasia on this
long-unused instrument. I listened to him with pleasure, as I had not
heard the instrument before and the doctor played by no means ill.
Thus terminated the interview to the satisfaction of both, and I had
taken up my hat, to take my leave of him when the old gentleman, with
a kindly expression of countenance and several low bows, handed to
me a five-pound note. Astonished at this, I looked at the note and
the donor, and at first knew not what he meant; when it struck me
that he intended it as a remuneration for my testing his violins, and
shaking my head with a smile, I laid the note on the table, pressed
the doctor’s hand with warmth, and hastened down stairs. He followed
me out into the street, assisted me into the carriage and then spoke
some words with evident emotion to his coachman. This had made so
much impression on the coachman, that he immediately told it to old
_Johanning_, who had come with the carriage, to open the door. He
had said to him: “You are driving there a German who is a perfect
gentleman; and I expect you will take him home to his house with the
greatest care.”--A few months afterwards, when I gave my benefit
concert, the doctor sent for a ticket and forwarded to me at the same
time a ten-pound note.

Meanwhile my wife had by unflagging industry acquired great proficiency
on the new harp, but in doing so--on account of the greater stretch
of arm it required and the stronger tension of the strings--she had
exerted herself over much and now suffered greatly from the exhaustion
it had induced. From former experience I had learned that nothing so
quickly imparted fresh strength to her nerves as the frequent enjoyment
of fresh air. I therefore availed myself of every moment of sunshine
in the first days of spring to take gentle walks into Regent’s Park,
which was very near to our dwelling in Charlotte Street. On Sundays,
when all music ceases in London, and when even without fear of giving
offence we could not play in our own apartments, we used to make more
distant excursions to Hampstead, and to the other parks. Our companion
and guide was alternately the younger _Ries_ and an old amiable man of
the name of _Stumpf_, an instrument maker. I soon had the gratification
of seeing my wife regain fresh strength and spirits from the mild
influence of the English spring, but I adhered strictly to my previous
resolution that she should appear once only at my own concert, and
declined with firmness several offers that were made to her. But as
for myself, I played at all concerts where they were willing to pay
the price I asked, and as this according to English notions was not
excessively high, I was in frequent requisition, and saw my name
announced on almost all the concert-programmes of the season. But
I never could make up my mind to play for remuneration at private
parties, for the manner in which musicians were then treated there, was
to me most unbecoming and degrading. They were not admitted to join
the company, but were shewn into an adjoining room, where they had to
wait until the moment arrived when they were summoned to the apartments
where the company was assembled before whom they were to play; their
performance over, they had to leave the room again immediately. My wife
and I were ourselves once eyewitnesses of this contemptuous treatment
of the first and most eminent artists in London. We had received
letters of introduction to the king’s brothers the Dukes of _Sussex_
and _Clarence_, and as the latter was married to a German, a Princess
of Meiningen, I paid them a visit accompanied by my wife. The Ducal
couple received us in a very kind manner and invited us to a musical
party they were to give in a few days and at which we were also asked
to assist. I then thought in what way I could best extricate myself
from this disgusting exclusion from the company, and resolved if I
could not succeed to return home immediately. When therefore we entered
the palace, and a lacquey was on the point of opening the door of the
room where the other musicians were assembled, I told _Johanning_ to
deliver my violin case to him, and with my wife on my arm, immediately
ascended the staircase before the lacquey had time to recover from his
astonishment. Arrived at the door of the apartments where the company
were assembled, I announced my name to the footman in waiting, and as
he hesitated to open the door I evinced an intention of opening it
myself. Upon this the lacquey instantly threw open the door and called
out the names of the new-comers. The Duchess, alive to German usages,
rose immediately from her seat, advanced a few steps to meet my wife,
and led her into the circle of ladies. The Duke welcomed me also with
a few friendly words and introduced me to the gentlemen around him. I
now thought I had successfully achieved all; but I soon observed that
the servants notwithstanding not did consider me as properly belonging
to the company, for they always passed me by with the tea-tray and
other refreshments, without offering me any. At length the Duke may
also have remarked this; for I saw him whisper a few words in the ear
of the steward of the household. After this the refreshments were also
presented to me. When the concert was to commence the steward of the
household sent a servant to summon the invited artists in the order
in which their names appeared on the programme. They hereupon entered
the apartment with their sheet of music or instrument in hand, saluted
the company with a profound bow, and began their performances. They
were the _élite_ of the most distinguished singers and musicians in
London, and the execution of their respective pieces was almost without
exception charmingly beautiful. This, however, did not appear to be
felt by the noble and fashionable auditory; for they did not cease
their conversation one moment. Once only when a very favorite female
singer entered the room they became somewhat more silent, and a few
subdued _bravas_ were heard, for which she immediately returned thanks
with profound curtsies. I was exceedingly annoyed by this derogation of
art and still more so with the artists who submitted to be so treated,
and I had a great mind not to play at all. When the turn came to me,
therefore, I purposely hesitated so long till the Duke, probably at
a sign made to him by his wife, invited me himself to play. I then
requested one of the servants to bring up my violin case, and I then
began to play the piece I had proposed to myself without making the
customary bows to the company. All these circumstances excited no
doubt the attention of the company, for during the whole time of my
performance the greatest stillness pervaded the apartment. When I had
concluded the ducal pair and their guests applauded. Now also I first
expressed my thanks by making a bow. Shortly afterwards the concert
terminated, and the musicians retired. If our having constituted
ourselves part of the company had furnished matter of surprise, this
was still more increased when they saw that we stopped there also to
supper, and during the supper were treated with great attention by
the ducal hosts. The circumstance to which we doubtless owed this
distinction--one so unheard-of and repugnant to all English notions of
that day--was the fact that the Duchess had known us while yet living
in her paternal house, and had there witnessed the friendly reception
which, at the time when we lived at Gotha, we had frequently met with
at the court of Meiningen. The Duke of _Sussex_, to whom I had brought
a letter of recommendation from the Duke of _Cambridge_, then regent of
Hanover, received me also with great distinction and conversed with me
a good deal. During a conversation we had upon the subject of English
national songs, the Duke even sent for his guitar and sang to me some
English and Irish national songs, which afterwards suggested to me the
idea of working up some of the most popular of these as a pot-pourri
for my instrument, and of introducing the same at my concert.[26]
When the company broke up, which was not till long after midnight, we
returned home greatly pleased with the result of our daring and with
the victory we had gained over the prejudices of London society.

[26] This is the Op. 59, the second of my works written in London.

Among those who solicited me to play solo at their concerts was Sir
_George Smart_, one of the directors of the Philharmonic Society.
During the season he gave a succession of subscription concerts which
he called “sacred concerts,” in which nevertheless a great deal of the
music was “worldly” also. I played at two of them, in return for which
Sir George undertook the arrangements for my benefit-concert--a by no
means light task even for a native well versed in the matter, and which
if I had undertaken in person would perhaps have occupied six weeks of
my time, which I could employ in a much more advantageous manner. My
concert took place on the 18th. June, and was one of the most brillant
and well attended of the whole season. Almost every person to whom we
had brought letters of recommendation--and among them also the Dukes of
_Sussex_ and _Clarence_--had taken either boxes or reserved seats, and
several of those wealthy personages had forwarded considerable sums for
them.

A great number of the subscribers to the Philharmonic Society also
retained their seats, and as the lowest price for a ticket was half
a guinea, and the room held nearly a thousand people, the receipts
were very considerable. I derived a great additional advantage from
the circumstance, that the expenses which otherwise in London are
enormously high, were greatly reduced on this occasion by the refusal
of several of the members of the orchestra to receive any gratuity,
from a friendly feeling towards me, and from the agreement previously
entered into by me with the Philharmonic Society, that the use of the
rooms should cost me nothing. On the other hand, however, I had to pay
all the singers, and I yet well remember that I was obliged to pay Mrs.
_Salmon_, the then most popular female vocalist in London, and without
whose presence my concert would have been considered not sufficiently
attractive, the sum of thirty pounds sterling for a single song; and
she made it a further condition of agreement, that she should not
sing until towards the end of the concert, as she had first to sing
at a concert in the city, six miles off. I must here mention also a
singular custom which prevailed at all concerts in London at that time,
which now, however, like many other strange practices of that period,
has been discontinued. Namely, it was required that the party giving
the concert should provide the auditory with refreshments during the
pause between the first and second parts of the concert. These were
accordingly supplied at a buffet in an adjoining room, and one was
obliged to agree beforehand with the confectioner upon the sum for
their purveyance, which at my concert was undertaken for ten pounds
sterling. If the company consisted for the most part of persons of
rank and fashion, with whom it was not usual to take any refreshments,
the confectioner used to make a good thing of it, but if it was a
very numerous and mixed company, and the heat very great, he might
frequently be a loser. But he never did a better stroke of business
than at my concert.

This took place on the very day that Queen _Charlotte_ of England made
her entry into London on her return from Italy, to make her defence
before Parliament against the charge of infidelity brought against her
by her husband. All London was divided into two parties, the larger of
which, composed of the middle and lower classes, was on the side of
the Queen. The town was in the greatest commotion, and it was a very
fortunate thing for me that I had already disposed of the whole of the
tickets for my concert, as otherwise by this unfavourable circumstance
I might have incurred a very great loss. The bills announcing my
concert, posted at the corners of the streets, were quickly pasted
over and covered with large placards in which in the name of the people
a general illumination of the town was called for to celebrate the
day; and _Johanning_ brought me word that the populace threatened to
smash the windows in every house, where this call was not complied
with. As at that time the police force as well as the few military
were not sufficiently numerous to protect the royal palaces from the
threatened excesses of the populace, the partisans of the king, who
were wholly unable to repress the tumult, were compelled to abide the
worst, and contented themselves with making the best use of the short
notice given by having their windows nailed up with boards, in order
to save their costly mirrors and furniture. In this manner during the
whole of the day the sound of the carpenter’s hammer was everywhere
heard, particularly in Portland Place, close adjoining where many of
the nobility resided, and these preparations of defence were subjects
of great derision and amusement to the young vagabonds of the street.
While we were rehearsing at home the pieces to be performed in the
evening, the people poured in crowds through the streets to meet the
Queen upon her entry. As this took place in the direction of the city,
it became perfectly quiet towards evening at the West-end. We found
therefore, as we drove at half-past eight o’clock to the concert-rooms,
the streets almost less thronged than usual, and met with no obstacle
on our way. But we remarked everywhere active preparations for the
illumination, in order that the sovereign will of the people might be
immediately complied with. My wife, who was somewhat nervous respecting
her first public appearance with the new harp, was in great trepidation
as to what might occur from this excitement of the populace, and I
was greatly afraid that the agitation in which I saw her would be
prejudicial both to her play and to her health. I therefore endeavoured
to soothe her by argument and persuasion, in which I happily succeeded.
The concert-room filled by degrees with a numerous auditory and the
concert began. I am able to give here the entire programme, as Sir
_G. Smart_ upon my last visit to London (in the year 1852) made me a
present of a copy of that which was handed at the time to the audience
upon their entry into the rooms. It runs as follows:

  NEW ARGYLL ROOMS.

  M^R. SPOHR’S CONCERT.

  Thursday, June 18th. 1820.

         *       *       *       *       *

  ~PART I.~

  Grand Sinfonia (M. S.)                                 ~Spohr~.

  Air, Mr. T. ~Welch~, “Revenge, revenge, Timotheus
  cries”                                                 ~Haendel~.

  Grand Duetto (M. S.), Harp and Violin, Mad.
  ~Spohr~ and Mr. ~Spohr~                      ~Spohr~.

  Aria, Miss ~Goodall~, “Una voce al cor mi parla.”
  Clarinet obligato, Mr. ~Willman~                  ~Pær~.

  Sestetto for Pianoforte, two Violins, Viola, Violincello
  and Contrabasso, Messrs.:
  ~Ries~, ~Watts~, ~Wagstaff~, R. ~Ashley~,
  ~Lindley~ and ~Dragonetti~                   ~Ries~.

  Irish Melodies (M. S.), with Variations for the
  Violin, Mr. ~Spohr~ (composed expressly
  for this occasion)                                     ~Spohr~.

  ~PART II.~

  Nonotto for Violin, Viola, Violincello, Contrabasso,
  Flute, Oboe, Clarinet, Horn and
  Bassoon, Messrs. ~Spohr~, ~Lindley~,
  ~Dragonetti~, ~Ireland~, ~Griesbach~,
  ~Willman~, ~Arnull~ and ~Holmes~        ~Spohr~.

  Scena, Mrs. ~Salmon~ “Fellon, la pena avrai”      ~Rossini~.

  Rondo for the Violin, Mr. ~Spohr~                 ~Spohr~.

  Aria, Mr. Vaughan “Rendi’l sereno”                     ~Haendel~.

  Overture                                               ~Spohr~.

         *       *       *       *       *

  Leader of the Band      Mr. ~Spohr~.

  At the Pianoforte       Sir George ~Smart~.


The new symphony, though already known to the orchestra, was again
carefully rehearsed through with them, and was executed in a masterly
manner, and it met with a more lively applause, if possible, than on
its first performance. While the air that followed was being sung I
tuned my wife’s harp for her in the adjoining room and spoke some words
of encouragement to her. I then led her into the concert-room and we
took our places to begin the duet. Silent expectation pervaded the
whole auditory, and our first tones were eagerly awaited, when suddenly
a fearful noise was heard in the street, which was immediately followed
by a volley of paving stones against the unilluminated windows of the
adjoining room. Terrified at the noise of the breaking glass of the
windows and chandeliers, the ladies sprang up from their seats, and a
scene of indescribable confusion and alarm ensued. In order to prevent
a second, volly of missiles, the gas lights in the adjoining apartment
were speedily lighted, and we were not a little gratified to find that
the mob after giving another uproarious cheer at the success of their
demonstration went on their way, and thus by degrees the previous quiet
was restored. But it was some time before the public resumed their
places in the room and became so far tranquillized that we could at
length begin. I was not a little fearful that the fright and the long
pause would make my wife still more nervous and I listened therefore
to her first accords in the greatest anxiety; but when I heard these
resound with their usual power I became immediately tranquillized, and
gave my attention wholly to the unity and ensemble of our play. This,
which in Germany had always pleased so much, did not fail to make its
effect upon an English audience also; the applause, indeed, increased
with every theme of the duet, and at its conclusion seemed as though it
never would cease. As we retired highly gratified with this success, we
neither of us thought that it was the _last time_, that _Dorette_ would
play on the harp. But of that hereafter!

As regards the other items of the programme in which I took part, I
was particularly pleased with the good reception which the nonette met
with. I had already played it with the same artists at one of the
Philharmonic concerts, and was invited on many sides to repeat it at my
concert. The accuracy of our _ensemble_ was this time more complete,
and therefore it could not fail in its effect. The Irish melodies were
generally well received. Thus, in spite of the disturbing intermezzo,
the concert terminated to the general satisfaction of all. The interval
after the first part and the promenade in the adjoining saloon were
this time entirely prevented by the damage which it had sustained; the
confectioner told me that, having had no demand for his refreshments,
he was the ten pound in pocket, although he had had some things smashed
on the buffet by the volley of stones. When at length, exceedingly
fatigued, we got into our carriage, we were not able to drive straight
home, as the mob in the neighbourhood of Portland Place still had it
all their own way. The coachman was therefore obliged to take all
manner of circuitous turnings, and it was past one in the morning
when we at length drove up to our own door. With the exception of our
floor we found the whole house lit up, and the landlady was awaiting
our return in the greatest anxiety, in order to light up our windows
also. And indeed it was high time; for the mob were heard approaching.
But as in obedience to their sovereign will they found the whole of
Charlotte-street brilliantly illuminated, they passed on without
committing any excesses. But it was not safe to extinguish the lights,
and not until the lapse of several hours, when the town had become
quite quiet, did we at length get the rest we so much needed.

       *       *       *       *       *

Now comes a sorrowful period in my life, on which I now still think
with grief. My wife felt so ill from the effects of the great exertions
she had made in acquiring the mastery of the new harp and the alternate
impressions upon her nervous system on the evening of the concert,
that I was greatly afraid she was about to have a third attack of
nervous fever. It was therefore high time to come to some firm
resolve as regarded her future well-being. Already after her second
attack in Darmstadt, when she had become fully restored to health,
I had endeavoured to persuade her to abandon her nerve-destroying
instrument, but when I saw how much this proposition distressed her, I
again immediately relinquished it. She was too much heart and soul the
artiste, and had acquired too great a love for the instrument to which
she owed so many triumphs, to be able to give it up readily; and it had
always been a source of happiness to her to think that she could assist
with her talent towards the maintenance of our family. But now, that
she was but too convinced that her physical powers were not sufficient
to conquer the new instrument, and a return to the old one would not
satisfy her after having made herself intimately acquainted with the
advantages of the new one in tone and mechanism, it became much easier
for me to win her over to my way of thinking, particularly when I
represented to her that as the artiste she could still be known, and
in future appear at my concerts as pianiste, for which she had all the
necessary qualifications. This tranquillized her very much, although
she was obliged to admit to herself, that she would never be able to
achieve upon the pianoforte the same success as on the harp, upon which
in Germany at least she had not her equal. I moreover promised her,
that in order to give her performances the charm of novelty, I would
write some brilliant concert themes, and as it was very important for
me to try my hand also at pianoforte compositions, I immediately set
to work and finished before leaving London the first subject of the
piano-quintet Op. 52. In order to remove the harp wholly from her
sight, I sent it to Mr. _Erard_. When I informed him that my wife was
compelled to abandon the harp entirely on account of the weak state of
her health, he took it back very willingly, and refused a compensation
for the use made of it up to that time. In a most gallant manner he
said, the instrument had now acquired a real value, from having been
played upon by so celebrated an artiste, and that too at her last
public performance.

I now again took daily walks into the country with my wife and had soon
the pleasure of seeing that she was gradually recovering her strength.
The thought that she would soon see her children again contributed no
doubt in a very great measure towards this improvement. I also longed
to be home again with my family, and immediately the last Philharmonic
concert was over, I made preparations for leaving.

I must here by way of appendix speak of the musical institution of
Mr. _Logier_, which I visited several times with great interest,
and respecting which I sent the following report to the Leipsic
Musical Journal of August 1820: “Mr. _Logier_, a German by birth, but
resident for the last fifteen years in England, gives instruction in
pianoforte-play and in harmony upon a method of his own invention,
in which he permits all the children, frequently as many as thirty
or forty, to play at the same time. For this purpose he has written
three volumes of studies, which are all grounded upon perfectly simple
themes, and progress by degrees to the most difficult ones. While
beginners play the theme, the more advanced pupils practise themselves
at the same time in more or less difficult variations: one might
imagine that from this manner of proceeding great confusion must ensue,
out of which the teacher would be able to distinguish very little;
but as the children who play these studies, sit near each other, one
hears, according to whichever part of the room one may be in, either
one or the other of the studies very distinctly. The teacher also
frequently makes half of the pupils, at times all but one, cease
playing, in order to ascertain their progress individually. In the last
lessons he makes use of his chiroplast, a machine by means of which
the children get accustomed to a good position of the arms and hands,
and which so soon as they have progressed so far as to know the notes
and keys, is removed first from one hand and then from the other, and
then for the first time they put their fingers to the keys and learn
to play scales; but all this, in the respective studies, with all the
children at once, and always in the strictest time. When they have then
progressed to a new lesson they do not of course succeed in bringing
out more than a few notes of each bar, in the quick movement which they
hear being played near or around them; but they soon overcome more and
more of them, and in a shorter time than might well be believed, the
new lesson is played as well as the previous one. But what is most
remarkable in Mr. _Logier’s_ method of teaching is, that, with the
very first lessons in pianoforte playing he teaches his pupils harmony
at the same time. How he does this, I do not know; and that is his
secret, for which each of the teachers in England who give instruction
on his system pay him one hundred guineas. The results of this method
with his pupils are nevertheless wonderful; for children between the
ages of seven and ten years solve the most difficult problems. I wrote
down on the board a triad, and denoted the key in which they were to
modulate it: one of the littlest girls immediately ran to the board,
and after very little reflection wrote first the bass, and then the
upper notes. I frequently repeated this test, and indeed with the
addition of all manners of difficulties: I extended it to the most
divergent keys in which enharmonic changes were required, yet they
never became embarrassed. If one could not succeed, another immediately
came forward, whose bass perhaps was corrected by a third; and for
everything they did they were obliged to assign the reason to the
teacher. At length I wrote upon the table a simple treble--the first
that came into my head--and told each of them to put the other three
voices to it, each upon her own slate. At the same time I said to them
that the solution of the theme which the teacher and I should consider
the best, I would inscribe in my musical album as a souvenir of their
performance. All were now full of life and activity, and in a few
minutes one of the littlest of the girls, who had already distinguished
herself by her play and in working out the first problems, brought me
her slate to inspect, but in her haste she had omitted an octave in
the third bar between the bass and one of the middle voices. No sooner
had I pointed it out to her, than blushing and with tears in her eyes
she took back the slate and rapidly corrected her error. As in her
performance the bass was indisputably the best of all, the teacher
wrote it in my album, and I subjoin it here with diplomatic accuracy.

[Music]

The resolutions of the other children were more or less good, but
all of them correct, and mostly written out in four different keys.
Each also played her own immediately without any embarrassment on the
pianoforte and without “fault,” &c.”

Upon my announcing our approaching departure to my old _Johanning_,
tears came into the eyes of the kind and affectionate old man. He had
become so fond of us that he would have even refused all remuneration
for the services he had rendered us, and positively objected to take
the sum I had reserved for him. But upon my insisting on his taking
it he complied, on the condition that I would not refuse him a favour
he wished to ask of me. I asked him what it was, and he did not keep
me long in suspense, but stammered out in an embarrassed manner the
request that I and my wife would do him the honour to take our dinner,
the day before our departure, at his house. When we consented thereto
without hesitation, his whole countenance immediately brightened up,
and he could not find words to express sufficiently his gratitude.
On the appointed day he made his appearance dressed as I had never
yet seen him, in a full-dress suit of his deceased master’s, with
hair powdered, and in white silk stockings, and at our door stood a
hackney carriage for four persons, which was to take us to his country
house, and in which a musician whom he had also invited, and whose
acquaintance we had already made, and who was the most intimate friend
of his late master, was already seated. When we had got in, _Johanning_
refused to take the fourth seat, saying that it would be unbecoming of
him to do so, although I pointed out to him that he was now no longer
my servant, but for this day my host and entertainer. But he was not
to be persuaded, and took his usual place by the side of the coachman.
On the way there our companion related to us many particulars highly
creditable to _Johanning_--how he had shewn the most ardent attachment
and fidelity to his master, and after his death had applied the greater
part of the money he had left him, to the erection of a memorial to
his master in Westminster Abbey, so that we felt penetrated with the
highest respect for our recent servant. Upon our arrival he opened
the carriage door and led us into his house. The property consisted
of a small house with a small garden attached, and everywhere the
greatest neatness and cleanliness. He led the way up one flight of
stairs to his reception room, and did not fail to show us immediately
the bell-pull near the mantle-piece, to which he forthwith gave a tug,
although he kept no servant whom he could summon with it, since he
and his wife were their own servants. We then took a turn through the
little garden and then entered the parlour, where the table was laid
for three persons. _Johanning_ again refused to take a seat near us at
table, and this time for the cogent reason that we should then have
had no one to wait upon us. Upon this he brought up the dinner and as
master of the house waited upon his guests, during which occupation
his whole countenance wore an expression of the greatest pleasure. The
dinner was exceedingly well dressed and served up on an elegant china
dinner-service which had belonged to his master, and the excellent
Rhenish wine which he placed before us was no doubt derived also from
the same source. The dessert, strawberries and cherries, was the
produce of his little garden, and this he did not fail to announce
to his guests.--When dinner was over he led the way once more to his
drawing-room, where we found Mrs. _Johanning_, who till then had been
engaged in the kitchen in dressing and sending up the dinner, in full
Sunday attire. There at length, though only after repeated pressing,
the worthy old couple allowed themselves to be persuaded to take seats
at the table, on which coffee had already been placed. _Johanning_
was now in the height of happiness, and interpreted with no little
satisfaction to his wife the praises which we had expressed and still
reiterated of the admirable manner in which we had been entertained.
Towards evening the coach again drove up to the door to take us back
to town. But _Johanning_ could not be deterred from resuming his old
place by the side of the coachman, to accompany us home, and open
the carriage door. In fact, even on the next morning he presented
himself again, in order to be of assistance at our departure. At the
coach-office we found also several friends and acquaintance waiting to
bid us farewell.

       *       *       *       *       *

We returned again by way of Dover and Calais, in order to take our own
carriage which we had left at Lille. Our passage across this time was a
very calm one and the weather fine, so that not any of the passengers
were sea-sick. Between Calais and Lille the diligence stopped at a so
charming place to dine that even now, after so long a time, I recollect
it with a feeling of pleasure. It was at the small town of Cassel,
which is situated upon a high isolated conical hill that rises in the
midst of an extensive plain. The weather being fine, dinner had been
laid for the travellers in the garden of the inn under a bower of
vines, and during the repast, from this pleasant, cool situation we
enjoyed an extensive view over the beautiful country round. In Lille we
again spent some pleasant days in the society of the _Vogel_ family and
other of our friends there, and then without longer stay set out in our
own carriage upon our further journey.

As a natural consequence of the painful ordeal of grief through
which my parents had passed on our account, and after the first long
separation from our children, our reception this time in Gandersheim
was beyond measure one of heartfelt joy, and after our protracted
exertions and fatigue we now indeed felt once more happy and freed
from care in the calm repose of the country. This was just the time
for me to set myself to new labours, and I there first completed
the quintet for pianoforte, flute, clarinet, horn and double-bass
which I had begun in London, and in which I proposed that my wife
should make her appearance in the world of art as a pianiste on our
projected winter tour. Indeed, it was high time to occupy her in its
artistic study; for as she now felt quite re-established in health,
she had the greatest desire to resume her harp. With the assistance
of the new quintet, however, and supported by the medical counsel of
my father, I soon succeeded in dissuading her from it. She therefore
devoted her attention to the pianoforte with the greatest zeal, and
in a short time had the gratification of finding she had reacquired
her former technical skill upon that instrument. After the lapse of a
few weeks she succeeded therefore in executing the new and difficult
concert-piece to her and my satisfaction.

About this time we had a visit from two musical Hamburg friends,
Messrs. _Fritz Schwenke_ and _Wilhelm Grund_, the latter of whom
brought his younger brother _Edward_ with him, who was already a good
violinist, to become my pupil. With the assistance of these three I now
gave our musical friends of Gandersheim a quartet-party such as they
had never heard before nor have since. In order to have my new quintet
heard upon this occasion also, I quickly rewrote the accompaniment of
the four wind-instruments, for a stringed-quartet, and in this shape
was highly pleased with its effect, as also with the brilliant play
of my wife. From the great success this had met with, she felt much
encouraged in her new studies and consoled in some measure for her
relinquishment of the harp. To provide her still with new materials for
practice, I rewrote also two former harp-compositions for the piano, a
pot-pourri and a rondo with violin, which appeared later as Op. 50 and
51. We practised these together also with the greatest care, and they
were destined for performance at private parties on our next winter
tour. After the departure of the Hamburg visitors I commenced the
instruction of my new pupil. By his talent and amiability he soon won
the esteem of the whole _Spohr_ family, from the old grandfather down
to little _Theresa_, whom he always called in pure Hamburg dialect: “Du
säute Deren.” As he played well on the piano, he undertook the musical
instruction of _Emilia_ and _Ida_, and young as he was, he knew how to
keep them assiduous to their studies. Himself as violinist he soon made
so much progress, that I practised him in and played with him the three
extremely difficult violin-duets which I wrote in Switzerland (Op. 39)
and for which I had never yet been able to meet with a fellow-player.
By the accurate, pure and spirited execution of this almost always
four-voiced duets we made a great sensation, and musical amateurs
from the whole country round came to hear us play them. We played one
of them also with great success at a concert in Hildesheim, given
there by the director of music _Bischoff_, the same who undertook the
Frankenhaus musical festivals. Towards autumn, just as I had begun to
compose a new violin concerto (the 9th. D-minor. Op. 55, published by
_André_ of Offenbach) for the winter journey, I received an invitation
from music-director _Rose_ in Quedlinburg to conduct a musical festival
which he was about to hold there. I very gladly accepted it, and made
all haste to complete my concerto so as to be able to perform it there
for the first time. While practising it I received great assistance
from _Edward Grund_, who was able to accompany through the score on
the piano, an assistance, which I had never before experienced.

The musical festival took place on the 13th. and 14th. October
1820, and went off to the full satisfaction of the originator and
the numerous auditory. Upon my proposition, _Schneider’s_ “Last
Judgement” was given on the first day, at which the composer himself
was present. On the second day, among other things my London symphony
was performed, and, as well as my new violin concerto, was received
with great approbation. I met in Quedlinburg many of my former friends
and acquaintances from Sondershausen, Gotha, Leipzig, Magdeburg,
Halberstadt and Brunswick, and passed several delightful days with
them. After our return from this pleasant excursion, upon which my
parents and _Edward Grund_, as well as my wife, had accompained me, it
became full time to set out upon our winter tour, the terminus of which
was to be Paris. A new parting from the children, my parents, and the
pleasant society of Gandersheim, was therefore necessary; and _Edward
Grund_ returned to Hamburg with the intention of coming again in the
spring to prosecute his studies under my guidance.

We took Frankfort, Heidelberg, Carlsruhe and Strasburg on our way to
Paris, and gave concerts in all those towns. In Frankfort, where we
lived in the house of my friend _Speyer_, we still found a lively
remembrance of our artistic talents; our concert in the salon of
the “_Weidenbusch_” was crowded to overflowing, although the room
could easily accommodate eight hundred persons. My new violin
concerto, excellently accompanied, made a great sensation; Councillor
_André_ himself, who previously had always some fault to find with
my compositions, seemed quite satisfied with my new work; for he
repeatedly requested me, after the rehearsal even, to let him have the
publishing of it. Although I declined this most positively, as I was
bound by a promise to my then publisher _Peters_ of Leipsic, to let him
have all my new manuscripts, yet in the evening at the concert _André_
again pressed me, and so pertinaciously, that to get rid of him, and to
prepare quietly for my solo-play, I at last called out to him “Yes.”
This precipitancy however cost me dear, for although I immediately
informed _Peters_ of all the circumstances, in order to exculpate
myself with him, I was compelled to endure many bitter reproaches
for my excessive pliancy towards Mr. _André_. The new piano quintet
with wind-instrument accompaniment, which was now also performed, made
likewise a great sensation, and _Dorette’s_ purity of piano-forte
play, of which until then the friends of music in Frankfort had known
nothing, was greeted with the loudest applause. I was more particularly
pleased with this result, as of all others it was calculated to console
my wife for the abandonment of her harp.

Of the other towns between Frankfort and Paris, and of the concerts
given there I have forgotten everything; I must however advert to the
acquaintance I made of Councillor _Thibaut_ at Heidelberg on this
occasion. That celebrated jurist conducted a choral society that he
had instituted; but excluding all modern church music, he permitted
_ancient_ Italian music only to be sung, of which he had made a rich
and rare collection. Until then I knew nothing more of this music than
what I had heard in the Sixtine chapel at Rome, and was therefore very
thankful to the Councillor for the permission he gave me to be present
at the rehearsals of his society, at which I became better acquainted
with several of those old works, which were carefully practised by
them. _Thibaut’s_ opinion that this music _alone_ represented the
true ecclesiastical style, and surpassed all that had ever been
written since, I cannot coincide with, for to me _Mozart’s_ requiem,
incomplete as it passed from the hands of that master, who died during
its composition, is alone worth more than all I ever heard of earlier
church music; nevertheless, the simple-grandiose style of those works
made then a great impression on me, and I begged permission to study
their scores through. After some hesitation my wish was granted in
such wise that I was permitted to visit _Thibaut’s_ music-room at
particular hours, and to go through the works on the piano, but was
not permitted to take any home with me. I took daily advantage of
this favour, and by that means made myself intimately acquainted with
the vocal method and harmonic sequence of the old masters. While so
engaged I was seized with the desire of trying for once an ecclesiastic
piece _alla Capella_ for several voices, and in the following summer I
carried out my idea at Gandersheim with the composition of the mass for
ten voices, Op. 54. I certainly did not strive to imitate the simple
treble movements of the old masters; but on the contrary I did a good
deal towards carrying out the rich modulation of the later Mozart
method.

Respecting our stay in Paris I published at the time “Four letters to a
Friend” in the Leipsic Musical Journal of 1821, which I here append.

FIRST LETTER.

  _Paris_, December 15. 1820.

I trust, my dear friend, that you will give me credit for writing to
you so soon on the eighth day after our arrival, at a time when so many
novelties crowd upon my notice, that I find it difficult to collect my
thoughts. But for my own sake I must not permit the materials to grow
upon me too much, otherwise I shall be wholly unable to deal with them
in their due order.

With a beating heart I drove through the Barrière of Paris. The
thought, that I should at length have the pleasure of making the
personal acquaintance of the artists whose works had inspired me in
my early childhood, excited the emotion which I then felt. In fancy I
reverted to the days of my boyhood, in which _Cherubini_ was my idol,
whose works I had had an earlier opportunity of becoming acquainted
with in Brunswick, at the then permanent French theatre there, than
even the works of _Mozart_; I vividly recollected the evening when the
“Deux Journées” was performed for the first time--how, intoxicated
with delight and the powerful impression that work had made upon me,
I asked on that very evening to have the score given to me, and sat
over it the whole night; and that it was that opera chiefly that gave
me the first impulse to composition. The author, and many other men
whose works had had the most decided influence on my development as a
composer and violinist, I was now soon to behold.

We had therefore scarcely got under cover, when I made it my first
business to pay a visit to those artists. I was received by all in a
friendly manner, and relations of friendship soon sprang up between me
and several of them.

I was told of _Cherubini_, that he was at first very reserved toward
strangers, repulsive even; I did not find him so. He received me,
without any letter of introduction, in the most friendly manner, and
invited me to repeat my visit as often as I pleased.

On the evening of our arrival _Kreutzer_ took us to the grand opera,
where a ballet of his, with pretty characteristic music: “Le carnaval
de Venise,” was performed. It is observable in the singers and dancers
of the grand opera, that they have been accustomed to move in a more
spacious place; in this one, where the space is much more confined as
compared with the opera house that has been abandoned, they appear in
a much too sharp relief. Several grand operas, those of _Gluck’s_ for
instance, can no longer be represented at all, there being not even
the necessary room for the whole orchestra. For this reason every one
looks forward with hope for the early completion of the new opera
house; but actively as they are working upon it, that will not be ready
before the middle of next summer. Before the ballet the opera: “Le
Devin du village,” the words and music by _Rousseau_, was given. Is it
a subject for praise or blame, that the French, notwithstanding the
many excellent things with which their operatic repertoire has been
enriched during the last twenty years, still give the oldest things
of all? And is it indeed a proof of an advanced cultivated taste for
art, when one sees them give as enthusiastic a reception (if not more
so) to the oldest operas of _Grétry_ with their poverty of harmony and
incorrectness, as to the master pieces of _Cherubini_ and _Méhul_? I
think not! How long have not the operas of _Hiller_ and _Dittersdorf_
and others of those days, disappeared from our repertoire, although
these are far to be preferred for their real musical worth to the
greater part of _Grétry’s_. But on the other hand it is certainly very
discouraging, that with us the new only, however poor and defective,
finds a ready reception, and many excellent things of older date are
set aside for them and forgotten. Nevertheless it must be said to the
honour of the taste for art of the Germans, that _Mozart’s_ operas at
least are the exception, and for the last thirty years have constantly
been produced in all the theatres of Germany, which is a proof that the
German people are at length impressed with the inimitable perfection of
those master-pieces, and are not to be deceived on this head, however
extensively the sweet musical poison may spread which flows in upon us
so profusely from beyond the Alps.

The orchestra of the grand opera, as compared with the other
orchestras, reckons among its members the most celebrated and
distinguished artistes, but in _ensemble_ is said to be behind the
Italian opera. I cannot yet judge how far that may be correct, as I
have only heard the latter as yet. In _Kreutzer’s_ ballet, which was
played by the orchestra with the greatest precision, I was greatly
pleased with a hautboy solo, which was executed in a masterly manner
by Mr. _Voigt_. This artist has succeeded in giving to his instrument
a perfect uniformity of tone and intonation throughout the whole range
from _C_ to the high _F_, an accomplishment which almost all hautboy
players have failed in attaining. His execution is moreover full of
grace and good taste.

For some days past I have been less edified at the grand opera than
I was the first time. “Les mystères d’Isis” was performed. Too well
indeed are justified the complaints of the admirers of _Mozart_ of
the disfigurement of the beautiful “Zauberflöte” in this piece
of workmanship, which the French themselves re-christened on its
appearance “Les Misères d’ici”! One must blush that it should have
been Germans, who so sinned against the immortal master. Everything
but the overture has been meddled with; all else has been thrown into
confusion, been changed and mutilated. The opera begins with the
concluding chorus of the Zauberflöte; then comes the march in Titus,
and then in succession some fragmentary piece from other operas of
_Mozart_, and even a little bit of a symphony of _Haydn_; then between
these recitatives of Mr. _Lachnitz’_ own manufacture. But worse than
all this is, that the transposers have applied a serious text to many
cheerful and even comic passages of the Zauberflöte, by which the music
of those passages becomes a parody of the text and of the situation. In
this manner, for instance, Papagena sings the characteristic air of the
Moor: “Alles fühlt der Liebe Freuden,” &c.; and the pretty terzet of
the three boys: “Seid uns zum zweitenmal willkommen,” &c., is sung by
the three ladies. Of the duet: “Bei Männern, welche Liebe fühlen,” &c.,
a terzet has been made, and so on. Worse than all, however, they have
taken the liberty of making alterations in the score: for example, in
the air: “In diesen heil’gen Hallen,” at the words: “So wandelt er an
Freundes Hand,” the imitating bass

[Music]

is entirely left out, which is here indispensably necessary, not
alone to the harmony, but because it expresses the act of wandering
in so characteristic a manner, and the bass sound the _B_ only a few
times instead. You may therefore readily imagine how insipid and
meagre this passage now sounds, which in Germany is so frequently
admired. Moreover, in the terzet of the three females, where _Mozart_
strengthens and supports the third voice with the violins only, the
transposers have added both violoncello and double-bass; so that at
these tender passages, which are for three voices only, the bass lies
in three different octaves, which to a cultivated ear is unbearable.
Similar offences are of frequent occurrence. We must nevertheless do
the French the justice to say, that they have always highly disapproved
of this vandalic mutilation of a great master-piece (the extent of
which from their ignorance of the original is yet not known to them);
but how is it, that the “_Mystères_” have nevertheless kept their
place undisturbed in the repertoire for the last eighteen or twenty
years?--and here where the public moreover, as I see every day, rule so
despotically in the theatre, and manage to have everything their own
way!--

To me, as a German, the performance was not satisfactory. Even the
overture was not executed so well as it should have been by so
excellent a union of first-rate musicians. It was taken too quick, and
still more hurried at the close, so that the violins instead of playing
semiquavers could only play quavers. The singers of the grand opera,
whose great merits may perhaps lie in declamatory song, are little
qualified to render the soft airs of the Zauberflöte in a satisfactory
manner. They sing them with a blunt roughness that deprives them of
all tenderness. The getting-up in scenery, dresses and dancing is
respectable, but not so handsome as I had expected.--Yesterday we went
for the first time to the grand opera, and saw “Clari,” a grand ballet
in three acts, the music by _Kreutzer_. Little as I like ballets, and
little, in my opinion as pantomime merits the aid of the resources of
art, as these are lavished on it here, I nevertheless do not deny that
the Parisian ballet may sometimes afford agreeable amusement, until
one becomes wearied with the monotony of the mimic movements, and of
the yet greater sameness of the dances. But with all the perfection
with which it is given here, pantomime, from the poverty of its
signs, which always require a printed explanation of their meaning,
is, as compared to recitative drama, a mere outline by the side of a
finished drawing. However it may be embellished with golden ornament
and decorated surroundings, as is the ballet here by magnificence of
costume and decorations, it gives the outline only, and the life is
wanting. In the same manner I may compare the drama to the opera--as
a drawing by the side of the painting. From song, the poem receives
its first colouring, and by it only, and the powerful aid of harmony,
does it succeed in giving expression to the indefinable and merely
imagined emotions of the soul which language must be content alone to
hint at. The music to “Clari” is a great success, and in the second and
third act especially the effect is most captivating. It facilitates
greatly the comprehension of the subject by a correct delineation of
the passions, and contains a treasury of pretty melodies which one
regrets do not form part of an opera. Mademoiselle _Bigottini_ played
the chief character, and evinced a deep study of mime and action in her
play. That in very impassioned situations she carried the expression
of her features to the borders of grimace, may perhaps be imputed to
the circumstance that hitherto she has always appeared in a spacious
place, where on account of the distance it was requisite to give strong
play to the features. Perhaps as a German this is my fancy only, for
the applause was never more tumultuous than when (to my feeling) she
overstepped the bounds of the beautiful and graceful.

Before the ballet, the one-act opera “Le rossignol” was given; from
which _Weigl_ took the subject of his German opera of “Nachtigall und
Rabe.” The music of the French opera is of no account, and interested
me only through the masterly execution of a flauto-solo by Mr. Tulou.
It is impossible to hear a finer tone than that Mr. Tulou draws from
his instrument. Since I heard him, it appears to me no longer so
inappropriate, when our poets compare the pleasing sound of a fine
voice to the tones of a flute.

SECOND LETTER.

  _Paris_, December 31. 1820.

Since the despatch of my first letter, a fortnight has elapsed,
replete with enjoyment, and since then we have both seen and heard
much that is beautiful; but for the present I must content myself
with writing to you upon that which most nearly concerns my art.
I have now made my appearance before musicians and dilettanti,
connoisseurs and a lay public, as violinist and composer, first at
Mr. _Baudiot’s_, primo violoncellist of the royal orchestra, on the
day after at _Kreutzer’s_, and since then at three private parties.
At the soirées of the two first the company consisted almost wholly
of musicians; at _Kreutzer’s_, in particular, almost all the first
composers and violinists of Paris were present. I gave several of my
quartets and quintets, and on the second day my nonet. The composers
present expressed themselves to me in very laudatory terms upon the
composition, and the violinists upon my play. Of the latter, _Viotti_,
both the _Kreutzers_, _Baillot_, _Lafont_, _Habeneck_, _Fontaine_,
_Guerin_, and several others whose names are not so well known in
Germany, were present; and you may imagine that it was then highly
necessary that I should collect my faculties, to do credit to my
countrymen. The wind-instrument parts in my nonet were played by the
five artists of whose masterly execution of _Reicha’s_ quintets you
will have so frequently read in accounts from Paris. I had the pleasure
of hearing them play two of those quintets, but shall reserve to myself
all detailed observations thereon till I shall have heard some more
of them. At the request of all the musicians present my nonet was
played again the same evening; and if the readiness with which the
assistant players read _à prima vista_ that difficult piece of music
had surprised me, I was still more gratified, upon its repetition, by
the manner in which they now entered into the spirit of the composition
and re-executed it.

The young pianist _Herz_, of whom you have also doubtless read in
the Parisian musical miscellanies, played twice on that evening, at
first his own variations on the theme from the “Schweizerfamilie,”
and then _Moscheles’_ well-known variations on Alexander’s march.
The extraordinary execution of this young man is the astonishment
of everybody; but with him, as with all the young artists here whom
I have yet heard, it seems to me that his technical cultivation is
in advance of that of his mind; otherwise, in a company composed of
artists only, he would surely have given something different and more
intellectual than the break-neck tricks of art he exhibited. But it
is very singular, how all here, young and old, strive only to shine
by mechanical execution, and individuals in whom perhaps the germ of
something better lies, devote whole years and every energy to the
study and practice of one single piece of music, frequently of the
most worthless kind, in order to create a sensation with it before the
public. That the mind remains torpid under such circumstances and that
such people never become much better than musical automatons may be
readily imagined.

Hence one seldom or never hears in the musical réunions here an
earnest, well-digested piece of music, such as a quartet or quintet of
our great masters; every one produces his show-piece; you hear nothing
but _airs variés_, _rondos favoris_, _nocturnes_, and the like trifles,
and from the singers romances and little duets; and however incorrect
and insipid all this may be, it never fails to produce an effect,
if it is executed right smoothly and sweetly. Poor in such pretty
trifles, with my earnest German music I am ill at ease in such musical
parties, and feel frequently like a man who speaks to people who do
not understand his language; for when the praise of any such auditors
extends even sometimes from my play to the composition itself, I cannot
feel gratified by it, since immediately afterwards he bestows the same
admiration upon the most trifling things. One blushes to be praised by
such connoisseurs. It is just the same at the theatres: the masses, the
leaders of the fashion here, know not positively how to distinguish the
worst from the best; they hear “_Le Jugement de Midas_” with the same
rapture that they hear “_Les deux Journées_” or “_Joseph_.” It requires
no long residence here, to adopt the frequently expressed opinion, that
the French are not a musical nation.

The artists themselves here are of this opinion, and frequently reply,
when I speak of Germany in this respect: “Yes, music is loved and
understood there, but not here.” In this manner may be explained how
good music wedded to a wretched theatrical piece, falls to the ground,
and wretched music united to a good _pièce de théâtre_, may be highly
successful.

This has deprived me of all desire to write for any of the theatres
here, as I had previously much wished to do; for apart from the fact
that I should have to begin _de novo_, like a young composer--since,
with the exception of some of my violin pieces, they know little or
nothing of my compositions--and further that I should have to work my
way through a thousand cabals, which would rise up against me as a
foreigner with fearful violence before I could get my work performed,
so that at the end I should find, although I might have written good
music, its success would be uncertain, as that depends, as I have
said, almost wholly on the theatrical piece. This may be seen from the
notices in the journals here upon recent operas, in which whole columns
are devoted to a critique of the text, and the music is dismissed with
a passing notice of a few words only.

Were it not so lucrative to write for the theatres in Paris, there
would have been long since no good composer willing to do so. But from
the considerable gain which a successful opera brings in during one’s
whole life-time, new works are produced almost every day; authors and
composers turn their mind constantly to the creation of new effects,
but do not neglect at the same time, to ply the public for months
together in the journals, and provide the necessary number of paid
_claqueurs_ in the pit on the evening of the performance, in order to
ensure a brilliant reception for their work and thereby an ultimate
rich harvest from its frequent repetition. If only half as much were
to be gained by an opera in Germany, we should soon be equally rich in
good composers for the theatre as we now are in instrumental composers,
and we should have no further need to introduce foreign pieces upon our
stage, for the most part unworthy of the artistic culture of Germans.

After a residence of now three weeks it may be well imagined that we
have repeatedly visited all the theatres. I am the more pleased at this
as the circle of my acquaintance has become larger, and my engagements
both for the morning and evening have so much increased that for the
next fortnight we shall be able to devote but few evenings to the
theatre.

Of the _Théâtre français_, the Odéon, and the four lesser theatres, I
shall say nothing; as in a musical point of view they offer nothing
worthy of notice. In the two first they give nothing but _entr’actes_,
and in the four others almost nothing else but vaudevilles. That this
last kind of theatrical pieces, which, thanks to Apollo and the muses,
has hitherto been transplanted into no other country, is so much liked
here that four theatres give almost nothing else, is the most striking
proof that the French are not musical; for the sacred art cannot be
more abused anywhere than in these kind of songs, which are neither
sung nor spoken, but rattled out in intervals, and which are in most
striking anomaly with the melodies, and the accompanying harmony. All
Frenchmen of taste are agreed that the vaudeville, which formerly was
given in one theatre only, has by its increase deteriorated more and
more the taste for true music, and therefore had a prejudicial effect
upon art here. We have been to each of these theatres once, to hear
the celebrated comedians _Brunet_, _Pothier_ and _Perlet_, but are not
likely to go a second time, for the enjoyment one derives from the wit
and inexhaustible humour of those performers is too dearly purchased
by hearing such wretched music. I was particularly struck by the
skill with which the orchestra in those theatres follow the singers,
who do not in the least adhere to the time, or the notes. But this is,
also, their chief merit, for in other respects they are but middling
musicians.

We have been frequently to the Italian opera, and much enjoyed
ourselves there. Last evening we saw “Don Juan” there, at last, after
it had been frequently announced. The house was again, as upon the
previous performances, filled to overflowing, and hundreds of people
could find no room, even half an hour before the curtain drew up. I
was disposed to believe that the Parisians had at length understood
the classical beauty of this work, and that they flocked always in
greater numbers to enjoy it; but I soon relinquished that opinion when
I saw that the finest parts of the opera--the first duet, the quartet,
the grand septet, and several other things--passed off without making
any impression upon them, and two subjects only received a storm of
applause, which was given rather to the singers than to the composer.

These two subjects, which were each respectively encored, were the
duet between Don Juan and Zerline: “Reich mir die Hand mein Leben”
etc., and the air of Don Juan: “Treibt der Champagner” etc.; the
first, because Signor _Garcia_, not having depth of voice sufficient,
transposes it to B flat, and the last even a whole tone higher, to
_C_. Madame _Fodor-Mainville_, who well knew that the song-pieces
of Zerlina would please the Parisians more than all the rest of the
opera, chose very wisely that part, and the result shewed that she had
calculated rightly. What would she care, were the characters of the
opera wholly transposed, so long as she meets with a storm of applause.
The real connoisseur can only consent to this when he dismisses from
his mind that she personates the role of a peasant girl, and when he
wholly sets aside the true intention of the subject represented; for
she decorates the simple songs of her part with a number of high-flown
embellishments which, splendidly though she may execute them, are
here wholly out of place; first because they do not at all belong to
_Mozart’s_ music, and secondly, because they are wholly incompatible
with the character. With deduction of this, it certainly affords an
unusual enjoyment to hear this part, which in Germany is usually played
by a third-rate singer, impersonated by a first-rate one, and so
distinguished a vocalist. Signor _Garcia_, as Don Juan, uses also too
much ornamentation. Where this is only moderately admissable, he comes
out with a _fioritura_ a yard long; and these are most out of place in
the serenade, where the supposed mandoline accompaniment forbids the
most simple ornament. Nevertheless he gives full latitude in it to his
fancy, and in order to do this more conveniently, he takes the tempo
very slow. On the other hand, however, he sings his song incomparably
“Treibt der Champagner” etc., and I acknowledge that I never heard that
air so well sung. The pliability of the Italian tongue is of great use
to him in this, and instead of losing his breath in it, as is usual
with our German singers, his vocal power increases to the end.

The other parts are sung more or less well, but none of them badly, and
one must gratefully acknowledge that each does his best to do honour
to the work. One may also be very satisfied with the performance,
when one loses sight of the claims one is justified in making upon so
celebrated a combination of artists. But to a German it soon becomes
very evident that these singers, who execute Italian music only, and
that of _Rossini_ especially, in the highest perfection, cannot give
the music of _Mozart_ with the same excellence; the difference of style
is far too great. The effeminate, sweet execution which accords so well
with the former, obliterates too much the energetic character which
distinguishes Don Juan above all other of _Mozart’s_ operas.

The orchestra, which the Parisians always pronounce the first in the
world, made some mistakes. Twice for instance the wind instruments were
very obviously at fault, and they wavered several times so much, that
the conductor was obliged to beat the time for them. I became confirmed
but the more strongly in my opinion, that a theatrical orchestra,
however excellent it may be, on account of the great distance of the
extreme ends, should not be conducted otherwise than by a continual
beating of the time, and, that to mark the time constantly by motions
of the body, and the violin, like Mr. _Grasset_ does, is of no use. In
other respects this orchestra is justly famed for the discretion with
which it accompanies the singer, and in that might serve as a model for
the other Parisian as well as many German orchestras.

The choruses are also excellent, and the effect particularly powerful
and grand at the concluding allegro of the first finale. But why
here, as well as almost everywhere else, is this allegro taken so
unreasonably quick? Do then the conductors wholly forget, that by so
doing they decrease instead of increasing the power, and that the
triplet movement of the violins which must first give life and motion
to the whole, cannot be brought out clearly and forcibly in a movement
of such exaggerated rapidity, and instead of hearing the living whole,
it becomes a mere skeleton sketch without fillings in?!

When one hears so beautiful a piece of music lose its effect by
incorrectness of time, one wishes again that the marking of the tempi
was finally and universally established either on _Mälzel’s_ or
_Weber’s_ method, or still better upon both at the same time. But then
of course orchestral conductors must follow them conscientiously, and
not as now, follow their own fancy merely.

THIRD LETTER.

  _Paris_, January 12. 1821.

With a mind greatly relieved, I write to announce to you, my dear
friend, that I have made my public début and with success. It is always
a hazardous undertaking for a foreign violinist to make a public
appearance in Paris, as the Parisians are possessed with the notion
that they have the finest violinists in the world, and consider it
almost in the light of arrogant presumption when a foreign considers
he has talent sufficient to challenge a comparison with them.

I may therefore well be a little proud of the brilliant reception I
met with the day before yesterday, and the more so that, with the
exception of a dozen persons, the auditory was personally unknown to
me, and there were none among them who had been admitted with free
tickets in purchase of their service as _claqueurs_. But I had prepared
myself very carefully for the occasion, and was properly supported by
the careful accompaniment of Mr. _Habeneck_. I was, however, not in
the least nervous, which is sometimes the case with me when I appear
for the first time in a strange country, and which occurred to me
the year before in London. The reason why I did not feel so in this
instance, was doubtless, that here I had already played before all
the most distinguished musicians, previous to my appearing in public;
but in London eight days only after our arrival, without having been
previously heard by any person, I was constrained to appear at the
philharmonic concert.

Before I enter into any details of the concert, I must first relate
how I came to give it. It is at all times a tedious business to make
arrangements for a concert in any town, but in Paris, which is so
extensive, where so many theatres are daily open, where there is so
much competition and so many obstacles to overcome, it is indeed a
Herculean task. I think also that this is the reason why so many
artists who come to Paris, decline giving a public concert, which,
besides being attended with the enormous expense of nearly 3000 francs,
is always an undertaking of great risk. If these matters have been
extremely unpleasant to me in other places, you may readily imagine how
I feared to attempt them here. In order to get over the difficulty, I
bethought myself of making a proposition to the directors of the grand
opera, to divide with me the expenses and the receipts of an evening
entertainment of which the first half should consist of a concert and
the second of a ballet. Contrary to the expectation of all those to
whom I had spoken on the subject, this proposition was acceded to.

The consent of the minister was however so long delayed, that the
concert could not be announced till three days before it took place,
and although the house was well filled, yet I ascribe to this delay
that it was not so crowded as I had expected so novel and, from
its novelty, so attractive an arrangement would have been for the
Parisians. The half which came to my share, after deduction of the
expenses, was therefore, as you may imagine, not very considerable: but
as I had not calculated upon making much pecuniary gain in Paris, I
do not regret this arrangement at all, as it saved me an immense deal
of trouble, and yet gave me an opportunity of making my appearance
in public. Of my own compositions I gave: the overture to “Alruna,”
the newest violin concerto, and the potpourri on the duet from “Don
Juan.” Between these a cavatine of _Rossini’s_ was sung by Mademoiselle
_Cinte_, and a duet, also of the same master, by Messrs. _Bordogni_
and _Levasseur_. At the rehearsal the overture was repeated three
times, and in the evening therefore, although it did not go off quite
so well as the last time at the rehearsal, the public nevertheless
could not refuse their applause of its execution. In the concerto, as
well as in the potpourri, some of the wind instruments failed twice,
from a negligence in observing the pauses, which seems somewhat usual
with the French, but fortunately it was not much disparaged by it.
The satisfaction of the audience was unmistakably expressed by loud
applause and cries of Bravo! To-day, however, the criticism of the
majority of the journals is not so favourable. I must solve this riddle
for you. Previous to every first appearance in public, whether of a
foreigner or a native, these gentlemen of the press are accustomed
to receive a visit from him, to solicit a favourable judgment, and
to present them most obsequiously with a few free admission tickets.
Foreign artists, to escape these unpleasant visits, sometimes forward
their solicitations in writing only, and the free admissions at the
same time; or, as is of frequent occurrence, induce some family to whom
they have brought letters of introduction, to invite the gentlemen of
the press to dinner, when a more convenient opportunity is offered to
give them to understand what is desirable to have said of them both
before and after the concert. This may perhaps occur now and then in
Germany; but I do not think, that newspaper critics can be anywhere so
venal as here. I have been told that the first artists of the _Théatre
français_, Mlle. _Mars_, and even _Talma_, pay annually considerable
sums to the journals, in order to keep those gentlemen constantly in
good humour, and that the latter, whenever they wish to extricate
themselves from any pecuniary embarrassment, find no method so sure
as to attack some esteemed artist until he submits to a tribute of
money. How the opinions of a press that are so purchasable, are at
all respected, I cannot understand. Suffice however to say, I did not
pay any of these supplicatory visits, for I considered them unworthy
of a German artist, and thought that the worst that could happen
would be, that the journalists would not take any notice at all of my
concert. But as these have each a free pass to every performance at
the grand opera, I found I was mistaken. They all speak of it; some
with unqualified praise, but the majority with a _But_, by which the
praise is more than sufficiently diminished. In all these notices,
however, French vanity speaks with the utmost self-assurance. They all
begin by extolling their own artists, and their artistic culture, above
all other nations; they think that the country that produced Messrs.
_Baillot_, _Lafont_ and _Habeneck_, need envy no other its violinists;
and whenever the play of a foreigner has been received here with
enthusiasm, it is nothing more than a proof of the great hospitality
which the French in particular shew towards foreigners. Apart from
this vanity the notices are very contradictory: The “Quotidienne”
says, for instance: “Mr. _Spohr_ aborde, avec une incroyable audace,
les plus grandes difficultés, et l’on ne sait ce qui étonne le plus,
ou son audace ou la sureté avec laquelle il exécute ces difficultés.”
In the “Journal des Débats,” on the other hand: “Le concert exécuté
par Mr. _Spohr_ n’est point surchargé de difficultés,” etc. These
gentlemen differ also in opinion respecting the merits or demerits
of my compositions. The majority think them good, but without saying
why; but “Le Courier des Spectacles,” which altogether speaks most
disparagingly of me, says: “C’est une espèce de pacotille d’harmonie
et d’enharmonie germaniques que Mr. _Spohr_ apporte, en contrebande,
de je ne sais quelle contrée d’Allemagne.” But _Rossini_ is his man,
of whom he says further on: “Cet Orphée moderne a défrayé de chant le
concert de Mr. _Spohr_, et il lui suffit pour cela de prêter une petite
aria et un petit duo bouffo.” But as a violinist I found more grace
in his eyes; he says for instance: “Mr. _Spohr_ comme exécutant est
un homme de mérite; il a deux qualités rares et précieuses, la pureté
et la justesse,” but then winds up his phrase like a true Frenchman:
“s’il reste quelque temps à Paris, il pourra perfectionner son goût et
retourner ensuite former celui des bons Allemands.” If the good man
only knew what the “bons Allemands” think of the musical taste of the
French?!

This ridiculous vanity in the Parisians is shewn also in their
conversation. When one or other of their musicians plays anything,
they immediately ask: “Well, can you boast of anything like that in
Germany?” Or when they introduce to you one of their distinguished
artists, they do not call him the first in Paris, but at once the
first in the world, although no nation knows less what other countries
possess, than they do, in their--for their vanity’s sake most
fortunate--ignorance.

You are doubtless astonished that I have as yet said nothing of the
music of the royal chapel; but I delayed doing so intentionally,
until I had first heard some of _Cherubini’s_ masses. _Lesueur_ and
_Cherubini_, the two directors of the music of the royal chapel,
assume the duties of their office every three months alternately; our
arrival took place during the time of _Lesueur’s_ directorship, and
_Cherubini’s_ did not begin till the first of January. But the musical
directors of the royal chapel do not conduct the music themselves, and
preside only in their court uniform at the head of the vocal personnel,
without taking any active part in the performance. The director _de
facto_ is _Plantade_; _Kreutzer_ leading player of the first violin,
and _Baillot_ of the second. The orchestra is composed of the first
artists in Paris, the chorus is powerful and good. Every mass is
rehearsed once or twice, and under _Plantade’s_ sure and spirited
direction, every thing goes exceedingly well.

Although previously prepared by Mr. _Sievers’_ account, I was very far
from expecting to hear music here of the style we call church-music
in Germany; yet I was greatly taken by surprise by the brilliant
theatrical style of a mass by _Plantade_, which I heard on my first
visit to the chapel on the 17th of last month. There is not the least
trace of the ecclesiastical style, not a vestige of the canonical
management of the voices, and still less of a fugue. But apart from
this, there were very pretty ideas, and much good instrumentation,
which would be quite in place in a comic opera. The concluding allegro,
probably upon the words: _Dona nobis pacem_ (for I am not certain,
since the French pronounce Latin in a manner very unintelligible to a
German ear) was so completely in the style of the finale to an opera
(like those usually with three or four times increased tempo) that
at the end, forgetting completely where I was, I expected to see the
curtain fall, and to hear the public applaud.

At midnight, on the 24th December, we heard a so-called “_Messe de
minuit_” of _Lesueur’s_ composition. First of all we were obliged to
endure a great trial of our patience, in which during two somewhat
tedious hours, from ten to twelve o’clock, we heard nothing but
psalms, sung off in the most monotonous manner, and interrupted at
intervals with barbarous peals of organ-play. At length, at midnight,
the mass began. Again the same frivolous theatrical style as in that
of _Plantade_, but which at the solemn midnight hour was still more
insufferable. But what most surprised me, particularly from _Lesueur_,
who is reputed here a first-rate harmonist, and was educated, if I am
not mistaken, for a teacher of harmony at the _Conservatoire_, there
was not even a four-part management of the voices! Though at times
it may be effective in an opera, when writing only a two-part vocal
distribution, to let the soprani go in octaves with the tenors, and
the alti with the bass, partly with a view to facilitate the execution
of the generally bad theatrical choruses, and partly to obtain by
that means more material power; yet to me it seems quite barbarous to
introduce this in the church, and I should therefore like to know what
Mr. _Lesueur_, who must certainly be an artist of reflective powers,
means by it. In the place of the offertory, variations by _Nadermann_
for the harp, horn and violoncello were thrust in, executed by the
composer and Mrs. _Dauprat_ and _Baudiot_. You who know, that in
Germany a serious symphony even appeared to me too mundane at this
part, may therefore readily imagine what an unpleasant impression
these frivolous, French variations on the harp must have made upon me
in a mass at midnight; and yet I saw the people present in earnest
prayer. How is it possible for them to feel a religious sentiment with
such trivial music! This must be either a matter of no importance to
them, or they know how to close their ears effectually; otherwise,
like myself, they would of a certainty be reminded of the ballet at
the grand opera, in which those three instruments are heard in a like
manner in the most voluptuous dances. Although the harp in ancient
times was the favorite instrument of a pious king, it should for all
that be banished from the church, because it is wholly unfit for the
severe style which is the only one suitable for that edifice.

But will you believe it, when I assure you that even the worthy master
_Cherubini_ himself, has allowed himself to be led away by this bad
example, and his masses exhibit in many places a theatrical style.
It is true that he makes amends for it in those places with superior
music, full of effect; but who can enjoy it, if he cannot wholly
forget the place in which he hears it?

It would he less regrettable that _Cherubini_ also should deviate
from the true ecclesiastical style, if in some individual parts he
did not shew in what a dignified manner he can move in it. Several
separate subjects in his masses--particularly the scientifically
conducted fugues, and above all his _Pater noster_ up to the profane
conclusion--afford the grandest proofs of this. But when one has once
overcome the inclination to feel annoyed at this frequent, extremely
digressive style, one feels then the highest enjoyment of art. By
richness of invention, well-chosen, and frequently quite novel
sequences of harmony, and a sagacious use of the material resources of
art, directed by the experience of many years, he knows how to produce
such powerful effects, that, carried away by them in spite of oneself,
one soon forgets all pedantic cavil to give oneself wholly up to one’s
feelings, and to enjoyment. What would not this man have contributed
to art, if instead of writing for Frenchmen, he had always written for
Germans!--

FOURTH LETTER.

  _Paris_, January 30. 1821.

The two months which I had allotted to our stay in Paris are drawing to
a close. As I do not know whether circumstances may even permit us to
come here again, we are exerting ourselves to find all the remarkable
things we have not yet seen, and make daily excursions in Paris and
into its environs. In order to devote my time wholly to this, I have
given up the idea I had conceived of giving another soirée before
our departure, and for which I had already made some arrangements.
The fortnight which I should have been obliged to devote solely to
that object, I can now therefore pass more pleasantly, and in greater
freedom. I gave up with much more repugnance my project to give a
second public concert, since, from the reception given to the first,
I had good ground to expect a successful result. But during this month
there was not a day to be found favorable for such a purpose; for on
a week day the administration will not give up the theatre, as there
is either a grand or an Italian opera, and of the three yet remaining
Sundays, the first was too near, the second, as the anniversary of the
death of Louis XVI., not to be had, and the third, already pre-engaged
by Mr. _Lafont_ for a concert. To extend our stay over the middle of
next month, we have no desire, for we are heartily tired of the noisy
life and ceaseless night-disturbance here, and ardently long for a
quiet place of residence.

On the other hand I have latterly played more frequently at private
parties, and seen with pleasure that my compositions, upon every
repetition, have been received with greater enthusiasm, especially by
musicians. This has been particularly the case with a new quintet for
pianoforte, flute, clarinet, horn and bassoon, which I have written
for my wife, and in which, since by the advice of the physician, she
has abandoned the harp, she has appeared several times. The chief
object of my coming here, to make myself personally known to the most
distinguished artists here, and to become more nearly acquainted with
them, I have thus fully effected; and I cannot speak sufficiently in
praise of the sympathy and kindness which the greater part of them have
evinced towards me. They repeatedly endeavoured to persuade me to make
a longer stay, and should I feel disposed to give a second concert,
they would not only take all the trouble of the arrangements for it off
my hands, but promised to get together for me the best orchestra in
Paris, without the cost to me of a single sou. Although I am not likely
to avail myself of this offer, yet it was very gratifying to me.

Another no less important object of my coming here has also been
achieved; I have had opportunities of hearing the most celebrated
violinists of, and at present in Paris. _Baillot_ gave a soirée at his
house for me, at my request; I heard _Lafont_ at his own concert; and
the younger _Kreutzer_ and _Habeneck_ at morning concerts which were
arranged expressly for the purpose. Should you wish to know which of
these four Violinists has best pleased me, then without hesitation, in
point of execution, I say, _Lafont_. In his play he combines beauty
of tone, the greatest purity, power, and grace; and he would be a
perfect violinist, if, with these qualifications, he possessed depth
of feeling, and had not accustomed himself to the habit peculiar to
the French school, of laying too much stress upon the last note of
a phrase. But feeling, without which a man can neither conceive nor
execute a good adagio, appears with him, as with almost all Frenchmen,
to be wholly wanting; for although he dresses up his slow movements
with many elegant and pretty ornaments, yet he still remains somewhat
cold. The adagio appears altogether to be considered here, both by
artists and the public, as the least important part of a concerto, and
is only retained perhaps because it separates both the quick subjects
and increases their effect.

To this indifference for it--as indeed the general insensibility of the
French for everything that works upon the feelings--I ascribe also,
that my adagio and the manner in which I played, made less impression
here than the brilliant allegro subjects. Accustomed to the special
applause which my manner of playing it had received from Germans,
Italians, Dutch, and English, I at first felt hurt to see it thought
so little of by the French. But since I have observed how seldom their
artists give them an earnest adagio, and how little their taste for it
is awakened, I became pacified on that subject. The practice of giving
emphasis to the last note of a period, by an increased pressure and a
rapid upward stroke of the bow, even when that note falls on a part
where the time is bad, is more or less common to all French violinists,
but with none so prominent as _Lafont_. To me it is incomprehensible
how this unnatural accentuation has arisen, which sounds exactly as
though a speaker endeavoured to intonate the short final syllable of
a word with particular force. If when executing a musical piece the
cantabile of the human voice had always been kept in view as model
(which in my opinion should be done by every instrumentalist) such
errors would never have become confirmed habits. But the Parisians are
so accustomed to this unnatural custom, that a foreigner who does not
play in the same bizzarre manner, appears to them much too plain, or,
as Mr. _Sievers_ expresses it, “much too straightforward.”

That _Lafont’s_ excellence restricts itself always to but a few pieces
at once, and that he practises the same concerto by the year together
before he plays it in public, is well known. Since I have heard the
perfect execution which he attains by this means, I certainly will not
cavil with this application of all his powers to the one object; but
I could not imitate him, and cannot even understand how one can bring
one’s-self to practise the same piece of music for four or five hours
daily, but still less how it is to be done without eventually losing
every vestige of real art, in such a mechanical mode of proceeding.

_Baillot_ is, in the technical scope of his play, almost as perfect,
and his diversity of manner, shews that he is so, without resorting
to the same desperate means. Besides his own compositions, he plays
almost all those of ancient and modern times. On one and the same
evening he gave us a quintet of _Bocherini_, a quartet of _Haydn_,
and three of his own compositions--a concerto, an _air varié_, and a
rondo. He played all these things with the most perfect purity, and
with the expression which is peculiar to his manner. His expression,
nevertheless, seemed to me more artificial than natural, and indeed his
whole execution, from the too salient evidence of the means by which he
gives that expression, has the appearance of mannerism. His bow-stroke
is skilful, and rich in shades of expression, but not so free as
_Lafont’s_, and therefore his tone is not so beautiful as that of the
latter, and the mechanical process of the up and down stroke of the bow
is too audible. His compositions are distinguished above almost all
those of any other Parisian violinist by their correctness; neither can
they be denied a certain originality; but being somewhat artificial,
mannered, and out of date in style, the hearer remains cold and without
a sense of emotion. You know that he frequently plays and takes great
pleasure in _Boccherini’s_ quintets. I was desirous of hearing him in
these quintets, with about a dozen of which I am acquainted, in order
to see whether from the manner in which he executes them he could
succeed in making one forget the poverty of the compositions. But well
as they were given by him, the frequent childishness of the melodies,
and the poverty of the harmonies (almost always three-voiced only) were
no less unpleasing to me, than in all those I had heard before. One can
hardly understand how a cultivated artist like _Baillot_, to whom our
treasures in compositions of this kind are known, can bring himself
to play those quintets still, whose worth consists only in the regard
had to the period and circumstances under which they were written. But
that they are here listened to with as much pleasure as a quintet of
_Mozart_, is another proof that Parisians cannot distinguish the good
from the bad, and are at least half a century behind in art.

I heard _Habeneck_ play two _airs variés_ of his composition. He is a
brilliant violinist and plays much with great rapidity and ease. His
tone and his bow-stroke are somewhat coarse.

_Kreutzer_ junior, the brother and pupil of the elder, played to me a
new, very brilliant and graceful trio of his brother’s composition. The
manner in which he executed it reminded me somewhat of the style of the
elder one, and satisfied me that they are the purest players of all the
Parisian violinists. Young _Kreutzer_ is wanting in physical power,
he is somewhat ill, and dare not play sometimes for months together.
His tone therefore is weak, but in other respects his play is pure,
spirited and full of expression.

Two days ago I heard two more quite new quintets of _Reicha_, which he
wrote for the morning-concerts of the five previously named artists.
They were played at a rehearsal, which appears to me to have been
given solely for the purpose of fishing for more subscribers to the
morning-concerts, among the numerous persons who were invited. At
least a list of them was handed round. It is sad to see what means
artists here are obliged to resort to, in order to procure support
for their undertakings. While the Parisians press eagerly forward to
every sensual enjoyment, they must be almost dragged to intellectual
ones.--I found the composition of these two new quintets, like those I
had previously heard at _Kreutzer’s_, rich in interesting sequences of
harmony, correct throughout in the management of the voices, and full
of effect in the use made of the tone and character of the different
wind-instruments, but on the other hand, frequently defective in the
form. Mr. _Reicha_ is not economical enough of his ideas, and at the
very commencement of his pieces he frequently gives from four to five
themes, each of which concludes in the tonic. Were he less rich, he
would be richer. His periods also are frequently badly connected and
sound as though he had written one yesterday and the other to-day.
Yet the minuets and scherzi, as short pieces, are less open to
this objection, and some of them are real masterpieces in form and
contents. A German soundness of science and capacity are the greatest
ornaments of this master. The execution in the rapid subjects was again
wonderfully correct, but somewhat less so in the slow ones.

I do not think I have yet spoken to you of the _Feydeau_. We have been
less frequently to that theatre than to the other operatic theatres,
because it so happened that on those evenings when we were at liberty
pieces were generally performed that did not much interest us. Yet we
were present at the first representation of _Méhul’s_ “Joseph,” which,
after a long repose was again put on the stage. The public however,
did not seem very grateful for this to the directors of the theatre,
for they gave it but a cold reception. In support of my assertion
that the French take an interest only in the piece, and know little
how to appreciate the excellence of the music, I may adduce, that
the tirades in the dialogue were far more applauded than the song
parts. The singers succeeded in obtaining applause only when, in the
superabundance of an artificial feeling, instead of singing, they began
to sob. At the pieces of the opera--for instance, at the first chorus
of the brothers--there was not a hand stirred. Many of the tempi were
taken quite different from those in Germany, but not to the advantage
of the music; for instance, the fine morning-hymn of the Israelites,
behind the scenes, was taken so quick, that it lost all its solemnity.
A screaming violin, also, that supported the soprani was far too
prematurely loud. The orchestra played well, and was particularly
remarkable for a delicate _piano_.

_Moscheles_ has been here a month. He makes a great sensation with his
extremely brilliant play, and wins the admiration both of artists and
dilettanti, the former by his execution of his richly intellectual
compositions, and the latter by his free fantasias, in which, as far
as his Germanism permits him, he accommodates himself to the Parisian
taste. The brothers _Bohrer_ have also returned to-day from a tour in
the provinces, but will remain here a few days only, and then leave
on a new tour viâ Munich to Vienna. I regret that I shall not have
an opportunity of hearing these artists, whom I have not met for ten
years. They wanted to persuade me to accompany them from here upon a
tour in the southern provinces, where they assure me some money is to
be made. But I have not the least inclination to go. The bad orchestras
in the provincial towns, the bad taste and the unpleasant negociations
to lessen the amount to be given up to the theatre and the poor of the
towns, would make a journey of the kind too disagreeable to me. In a
few days we shall return to Germany by way of Nancy and Strasbourg, and
therefore shall soon greet you again in dear Fatherland.

Till then farewell!

       *       *       *       *       *

To these letters regarding my sojourn in Paris, I have yet to add some
few things from recollection. From the frequent opportunities I had
of playing before _Cherubini_ at private parties, I conceived a very
ardent desire to have all my quartets and quintets so far as I thought
them worthy of it, heard by that by me highly esteemed master, and to
introduce them by degrees to his notice, in order to ask his opinion of
them. But in this I succeeded with very few only, for when _Cherubini_
had heard the first quartet (it was Nr. 1 of the Op. 45 written at
Frankfort), and I was on the point of producing a second, he protested
against it, and said: “Your music, and indeed the form and style of
this kind of music, is yet so foreign to me, that I cannot find myself
immediately at home with it, nor follow it properly; I would therefore
much prefer that you repeated the quartet you have just played!” I was
very much astonished at this remark, and did not understand it until
I afterwards ascertained that _Cherubini_ was quite unacquainted with
the German masterpieces of this kind of _Mozart_ and _Beethoven_--and
at the utmost had once heard a quartet by _Haydn_ at _Baillot’s_
soirées. As the other persons present coincided with _Cherubini’s_
wish, I consented the more readily, as in the first execution of it,
some things had not gone altogether well. He now spoke very favourably
of my composition, praised its form, its thematic working out, the
rich change in the harmonies, and particularly the _fugato_ in the
last subject. But as there were still many things not quite clear to
him in the music, he begged me to repeat it a second time, when we
should next meet. I hoped he would think nothing more about it, and
therefore at the next music party brought forward another quartet.
Before I could begin, however, _Cherubini_ renewed his request, and I
was therefore obliged to play the same quartet a third time. The same
thing occurred also with Nr. 2 of Op. 45, excepting that he spoke of it
with more decisive praise, and said of the adagio: “It is the finest I
ever heard.” He was equally pleased with my pianoforte quintet with
the concerted accompaniment of wind instruments, and I was frequently
obliged to play it on that account. The first time my wife played the
piano part; but when _Moscheles_ subsequently requested permission to
study it and to play it once, she had not the courage to play it any
more in Paris, after him. He remained therefore in possession, and
entered more and more into the spirit of the composition. He executed
the two allegro subjects especially with far more energy and style,
which certainly greatly increased their effect. As the wind instruments
of _Reicha’s_ quintet were excellent, I never recollect to have heard
that quintet so perfectly rendered as then, although I have heard it
played in more recent days by many celebrated pianoforte virtuosi.
From the continual repetition of my quartets in Paris I could find no
opportunity of giving even one of my two first quintets for stringed
instruments which had been some time written. Nevertheless I found for
them a very sympathetic audience at Strasbourg, on my return journey,
to which the taste for quartet-music has more readily penetrated from
its contiguity to Germany. The quintet in _G_ major, with the half
melancholy half merry finale, became soon an especial favorite with the
friends of music there, and at their request formed the finale of every
quartet-party. In Carlsruhe, where on a former visit I had already
played quartets frequently, particularly in the house of that lover
of art Mr. _von Eichthal_, my stay this time was very much saddened
by finding the friend of my youth _Feska_ dangerously ill: he shortly
afterwards succumbed to his incurable malady.

       *       *       *       *       *

Returned to Gandersheim, I resumed again, immediately, the pleasant
active life of the previous summer. _Edward Grund_ soon arrived also,
and devoted himself with his usual zeal both to his own improvement
and to the instruction of my children. I myself first began with the
composition of the already mentioned ten-voiced vocal mass, but I was
soon obliged to give it up for a short time. I received a letter from
my old friend _Hermstedt_, in which he invited me on the part of the
directors of the baths of Alexisbad in the Harz, to give a concert
in the course of the approaching season. He offered at the same time
to make all the necessary arrangements beforehand, so that I should
not require to stay there longer than a few days. He also urgently
pressed me to write a new clarinet concerto for him, and promised if
he received it sufficiently early, to play it for the first time at
the Alexisbad concert. As I liked to write for _Hermstedt_, who at
that time was without doubt the first of all living clarinet virtuosi,
I consented to his proposal, and set to work immediately. After
despatching to him the new concerto _F_ minor (the third for clarinet),
I wrote for myself and wife another pot-pourri concerted for violin and
pianoforte on two themes from the “Opferfest”--published afterwards
as Op. 56, for which I worked out anew a former composition for
clarinet with orchestral accompaniment which I had written in 1812 for
_Hermstedt_, for the celebration of Napoleon’s birthday, in Erfurt. I
considered it one of my most successful pieces, and wished by this new
elaboration of it, to make it more generally known. It may be readily
understood that in this transfer from the clarinet and orchestra to the
violin and pianoforte, very considerable modifications were requisite,
and that I could adhere chiefly only to the form and modulations of the
previous composition. By the time this piece of music had been studied
by us in the usual manner, with the greatest care, the day fixed upon
for our departure for Alexisbad arrived. Of this excursion I have now
but very faint reminiscences. I neither know what we played at the
concert, nor how the new clarinet concerto pleased, and the less so,
that since that time I have not heard it again; for it has remained
altogether in _Hermstedt’s_ hands, and has never been published. But I
recollect very distinctly a natural phenomenon by which our concert was
disturbed and for some time interrupted, as in London by the smashing
of the windows. Just as the music was about to begin, a storm, which
had threatened since noon, broke out with such violence, that what
with the rolling of the thunder and the noise of the rain that poured
down in torrents, nothing could have been heard. In the over-crowded
concert-room, which was suffocatingly hot, the closely packed auditory
were compelled to await the passing over of the storm, and the concert
could not be commenced until the air of the room had been renewed by
the opening of the doors and windows. Owing to this the concert did not
terminate till complete nightfall. The confusion and perplexity which
ensued among the departing audience now first reached their climax;
for it was found that the otherwise very modest rivulet which runs
through the valley of Alexisbad had become so swollen, and had torn
up and flooded the roads to such an extent, that the numerous company
that had come in from the neighbourhood of the town found it impossible
to return home in the darkness of night. All therefore first rushed
to the dining-room of the baths, but there no provision had been made
for such an influx of guests. As soon as the regular visitors of the
baths had retired to their apartments previous to sitting down to
dinner, the strangers seized upon their seats at the table, and upon
the eatables also, so that when the former returned they were obliged
to content themselves with what they could lay hold of. Upon this very
naturally a good deal of ill-feeling was excited, and the host had
enough to do and a hard time of it to pacify and keep the people in
bounds. Now, furthermore, it was found that to pass the night there
were neither rooms nor beds sufficient for their accommodation, and a
great number of the strangers were _nolens volens_ obliged to lie down
indiscriminately beside each other upon a shakedown of straw. Many did
it good humouredly, but others with ill-suppressed curses. For the
unconcerned spectator it was indeed a highly comical and amusing scene.

During the same summer, I received a similar invitation to go to
Pyrmont and give a concert there. I acquiesced, and proceeded thither
accompanied by my wife and my pupil _Edward Grund_, who conducted
the orchestra and very much facilitated my solo-playing by practising
the accompaniment beforehand, which alone enabled me to play my own
compositions. _Grund_ had in truth become a first-rate artist, and
began now to make musical tours with much success; which led to his
appointment as director of the court-orchestra at Meiningen, which
office he now still (1853) fills, respected by his prince and by the
members of the orchestra, and zealously exerting his energies to the
advantage of art. As upon his leaving Gandersheim, in the autumn of
1821, the musical instruction of my daughters completely ceased,
and as they gave evidence of vocal powers that appeared worthy of a
further artistic cultivation, I determined to remove to Dresden with my
family, in order to give the children the advantage of the instruction
of a then celebrated teacher of vocal music of the name of _Miksch_
in that city. To _Emilia_ I had indeed, myself already begun to give
instruction in singing, but soon found that I had neither the necessary
perseverance and patience, and that it drew my attention too much from
my work of composition. Besides this, also, I determined as soon as my
family had become somewhat settled in Dresden, to proceed alone upon
some short artistic tours in the neighbourhood. I wrote therefore to my
former pupil _Moritz Hauptmann_ in Dresden, and requested him to treat
with Mr. _Miksch_ on my behalf, and so soon as he should agree, to hire
apartments for me; shortly after which I received a reply informing me
that all my wishes had been carefully complied with.

My mass for ten voices had been meanwhile completed, and I longed very
much to hear it. As on my journey to Dresden I contemplated giving a
concert in Leipzic, and on that account should be obliged to make a
longer stay there, I bethought myself of getting it sung during the
time I was there by the grand choral-society of that town, with the
Director of which I was acquainted. I wrote to him therefore to inquire
if he felt disposed to have the work practised beforehand, and as
he replied in the affirmative, I sent the score to him to have the
voice-parts immediately written out.

The parting from Gandersheim was this time a very sad one, as the
children also, to whose society their grandfather and grandmother had
become so much accustomed, were to part from them, and I was obliged to
promise to return the next summer, even though for a short visit only.

On arriving in Leipzic, one of my first visits was to the Director of
the choral-society, to ascertain something about my mass. But what I
learned was not very satisfactory. The rehearsals it is true had been
commenced; but the work had been found so enormously difficult, and
was so imperfectly understood, that the director refused decidedly to
let me hear it. At my urgent request, however, a trial was made, which
went very badly, and as I did not nearly hear the effect which I had
pictured to myself during the inspiration of the work, I concluded that
I had produced a complete failure. After hearing it a few more times,
I resolved to make some alterations in it, in order to facilitate its
execution, and shortly after, the mass was published by _Peters_ as Op.
54. A long time afterwards, when I had almost forgotten it, some parts
of it were sung to me by the Berlin choral-academy under _Zelter’s_
direction. These had been so well studied, were intonated so clearly,
and had so imposing an effect from the combination of so many voices,
that I now became fully convinced that the work could be performed, and
conceived the desire to have it studied by my choral-society in Cassel.
This proved successful, as I did not lose my patience and the singers
were indefatigable, and the entire mass, without any omissions, was
performed in November 1827 on Saint Cecilia’s day. The experience I had
acquired during these rehearsals taught me, however, to avoid a too
great abundance of modulations and difficult chords in succession.

Arrived in Dresden, we were conducted by _Hauptmann_ to the lodgings
he had hired for us, which were pleasantly situated in a quiet part of
the town. Both my eldest girls immediately began their singing-lessons
with Mr. _Miksch_ and I then went in search of my former acquaintances
among the artists and amateurs of music, and, foremost of all, of
the orchestra director _Carl Maria von Weber_. He received me in
a very cordial manner, and by degrees introduced me into all the
musical circles, where I not only heard much good music, but had the
opportunity of playing my own chamber-music. As the musicians who
accompanied me evinced great interest in my quartet-play, this induced
me, with their assistance to give quartet parties every week at my
house, to which I invited the most ardent lovers of music in the town.
At these I brought forward, as I could not succeed in doing in Paris,
all the quartets and quintets in succession which I had written up to
that time, and as I soon got to the end of them, and they met with
great approbation from all hearers, I was encouraged to write some new
ones. In a short time, I finished two (the two first of Op. 58), and I
took such interest in this work, as well as in the whole artistic life
of Dresden, that I at once gave up my contemplated musical tour, and
deferred it to the latter end of the winter.

Meanwhile _Carl Maria von Weber_ had succeeded in obtaining the
permission to have his opera of “Der Freischütz” studied in Dresden,
after it had met with such brilliant success in Vienna and Berlin; and
the private rehearsals were already begun. As up to that time I had not
entertained a very high opinion of _Weber’s_ talent for composition,
it may be readily imagined I was not a little desirous of becoming
acquainted with that opera, in order to ascertain thoroughly by what
it had achieved such an enthusiastic admiration in the two capitals of
Germany. My interest in it was increased the more from my having worked
also a few years before, when at Frankfort on the Maine, upon the
same materials, from _Appel’s_ book of apparitions, for an opera; and
only abandoned the composition upon accidentally hearing that _Weber_
was already engaged upon it. The nearer acquaintance with the opera,
certainly did not solve for me the riddle of its enormous success; and
I could alone account for it by _Weber’s_ peculiar gift and capacity
for writing for the understanding of the mass. As I very well knew
that this gift had been denied me by nature, it is difficult for me to
explain how an unconquerable impulse should have led me nevertheless,
to attempt dramatic composition anew. But so it was! Scarcely had I
arrived home, than I took from my trunk, a half-forgotten work which
I had begun in Paris. On a tedious rainy day which in that muddy city
renders it impossible to go out of doors, I asked my landlady to lend
me a book to read. She brought me an old, well-read romance: “La Veuve
de Malabar.” I found its interesting matter would well permit of being
adapted to an opera, and I purchased it of her for a few sous, in order
to make trial of it. While in Paris, and during the journey home I
turned over in my mind the most favourable form for the composition of
the opera, and began immediately after my return to Gandersheim to make
the cast of a scene. In those hours when I did not feel disposed to
work on the composition of the mass, I progressed with it, and by the
time I removed with my family to Dresden, I had nearly completed it. I
now reconsidered and worked over anew this sketch with renewed zeal,
decided in the most precise manner everything that should take place
in each scene, and then looked out for a poet who would feel disposed
to write the opera according to this plan. Such a person I found in
Mr. _Edward Gehe_, who readily entered into my ideas. In this manner
originated the text of the opera “Jessonda.” I was just on the point of
beginning its composition, when an event took place that took off my
attention from it again for some time.

One morning, in the beginning of December, _Carl Maria von Weber_,
called upon me, and informed me that he had just received an invitation
to Cassel, with the offer of the appointment of conductor of the
orchestra at the newly-built court theatre there, but had decided upon
declining it, as he was fully satisfied with his present position.
Should he, however, find me disposed to apply for that post, he would
in his reply to the letter, direct attention to me, and say that I
was at present living in Dresden. As shortly before I had heard from a
member of the Cassel orchestra who passed through Gandersheim much of
the magnificence of the court theatre there and of the love of art of
the elector _William_ II. who had just entered upon the government, I
could not doubt but that I should find there an important and pleasant
sphere of action. I therefore accepted _Weber’s_ offer with many
thanks, and before the lapse of a week, as a result of his reply, I
received a letter from Mr. _Feige_, director-general of the Cassel
court theatre, in which he offered me on the part of the elector the
appointment of master of the court orchestra, and I was requested to
send in my terms of acceptance by return of post. After I had consulted
with _Weber_ and my wife, I demanded: 1) the appointment for life,
by rescript, at a salary of 2000 Thalers; 2) a leave of absence of
from 6 to 8 weeks, every year; and 3) the assurance that the artistic
direction of the opera should be made over to me exclusively. The whole
of these stipulations were agreed to, but in return it was required of
me that I should enter upon my post at the latest on the commencement
of the new year. Overjoyed as we were at this new appointment,
particularly _Dorette_, as she was thereby certain that she would be
no more separated from her children for a long time, yet we were not
altogether satisfied at having to leave our present residence so soon,
where _Emilia_ and _Ida_ were making such progress, particularly in
singing. We had besides taken our Dresden lodgings up to Easter, and
a removal in the middle of winter was altogether very unpleasant. I
therefore proposed that I should leave, to assume my place at Cassel,
but that my wife and the children should remain in Dresden till the
spring. Painful as was to her the separation from me for so long
a time, she was compelled to admit the obvious convenience of my
proposition. As the new year was now approaching, I therefore made the
necessary preparations for my departure, and urged _Gehe_ to work upon
the matter for the second and third act of Jessonda, with all possible
diligence, while I took the first act, which was ready, with me to
Cassel.

Meanwhile another new and startling offer was made to me. Count
_Salisch_, my old patron in Gotha, wrote word to me that the duchess
had been informed I was now living in private at Dresden, and she was
therefore desirous to know whether I might not be disposed to resume
my old engagement, which, since the recent death of _Andreas Romberg_,
was again vacant? Count _Salisch_ added furthermore that they would
be enabled to grant me a considerable increase of my former salary.
Had I not already accepted the offer from Cassel, I might possibly
have given this one the preference, in order to afford my wife the
pleasure of a reunion with her mother and family by a return to her
native town. But the choice was thus not permitted to me, and I might
consider this rather in the light of a fortunate circumstance, as my
sphere of action in Gotha would have been a very circumscribed one,
in comparison with that in Cassel. In a few years also I should have
again been left without a home, for the duke, and his successor also,
prince _Frederick_, the last heir, died soon after each-other, and the
state was divided among the other Saxon duchies. The orchestra was then
pensioned off, and as I could not have endured to live in complete
idleness, I should have soon removed again to some other place.

The parting from my wife and children, although for a short time only,
was nevertheless a very sad one. _Dorette_, who wept bitterly, could
alone be somewhat comforted by my promise to write every week and
inform her of everything that I was doing. In Gotha, when on passing
through I paid a visit to my mother-in-law, I was urgently pressed by
her and the other relatives of my wife, as also by the members of the
orchestra, to settle there once more. The duchess, also, to whom it
was requisite I should pay a visit, as she had always evinced so much
interest and kindness towards me, resorted to every means to make me
give up Cassel, and offered to induce her brother the elector of Hesse
to release me from my engagement. But as, since I had left Gotha, and
looked about me in the world, the sphere of action in that place seemed
to me too humble and restricted, I withstood every solicitation and
made a speedy departure.

I had scarcely arrived in Cassel (New Year’s Day 1822), than I was
summoned to an interview with the elector, who received me with great
kindness, and said many flattering things to me. Among other subjects
he expressed the hope to see his opera become by my exertions one
of the most celebrated of Germany, and requested me to make such
propositions as were best calculated to effect that object. In order
to do that I requested a fortnight’s time, so that I might first make
myself well acquainted with the means and materials at hand. After I
had been present at a few rehearsals and performances, I then assumed
my new post with the direction of _Winter’s_ “Opferfest.” As the
previous director of music, _Benzon_, had from all accounts, been so
much wanting in authority, that the singers and the orchestra did not
hesitate to oppose his regulations, which indeed led to his dismissal,
I considered it immediately necessary to somewhat tighten the reins of
discipline. I therefore became very strict at the rehearsals of the
“Opferfest,” but did not find the least disposition to resist either
in the singers, or in the orchestra; and already in the first opera
which I directed, succeeded in producing a better ensemble than they
had hitherto been accustomed to. This was also generally acknowledged,
and immediately procured for me the confidence of the elector, as also
of the whole theatrical personnel. As I already found some excellent
voices among the singers, viz. the first tenor _Gerstäcker_ and the
prima donna demoiselle _Dietrich_, and ascertained that _Feige_ the
director of the theatre was negotiating for the engagement of several
other eminent artists, I limited for the present the proposals which
I now sent in to the mere increase and improvement of the personnel
of the chorus and orchestra. The latter consisted in part of civilian
musicians, and partly of musicians belonging to the band of the
body-guard, among whom were several of great excellence. The elector
had granted to the latter as well as to the civilian musicians a
rescript of engagement for life, so that I could no longer carry out my
notion of constituting the orchestra solely of civilian musicians, in
order to avoid any collision between the military and the orchestral
duties of the non-civilians. I hoped at least, however, to get rid of
the objectionable regulations which obliged the military musicians
to appear in full uniform, which upon my first visit to the theatre
was a great eye-sore to me. But neither did I succeed in this, for
upon my representing it to the elector he replied, “It is contrary
to military etiquette for a soldier to appear before me otherwise
than in full uniform;” and when I made answer that the close-fitting
uniform made the orchestral duties more difficult, and that the high
epaulettes in particular made it quite impossible for the violinists
to hold their instrument in the proper way, he proposed to give the
musicians a particular and convenient uniform without epaulettes, for
the orchestral service, rather than give up his whim. He rejected also
my then suggested proposal to give the civilian-musicians the same kind
of uniform; and in this manner this party-coloured orchestra remained
unchanged to the astonishment of all foreigners, until the year 1832,
when the present elector became co-regent in the government.

But my propositions for the increase and improvement of the orchestra
were all adopted, and I received instructions to engage some more good
violinists, and some first-rate solo-players for the leading wind
instruments. By this means the opportunity was afforded me of bringing
my brother near to me once more, who, after the expiration of his
engagement in Vienna had met with an engagement in the Berlin court
orchestra. I was equally successful with my former pupil and friend
_Hauptmann_, and both received a rescript of engagement for life. Some
excellent musicians were soon found also for the wind instruments, and
by this increase and by diligent study and exercise, the orchestra
became one of the best in Germany, and has so remained, in spite of
all the personal changes until now (1853).

But I must revert to the year 1822. My accession to office was
celebrated by the whole theatrical company, by a grand dinner, at which
the two heads of the theatrical administration, the intendant Mr. _von
Manger_, director of the police, and director-general _Feige_ presided.
Songs, speeches and toasts were sung and made in my honour, and I felt
myself quite at home in a circle where I was met on every side with so
much friendliness, and indeed in so hearty a manner. As the Elector,
who in the first years of his rule was very generous, had made Messrs.
_von Manger_ and _Feige_ grants of money for special performances
for the relief of native and travelling musicians, this gave rise
to brilliant and interesting soirées at both their houses. These
meetings were enlivened by genius and wit, and there prevailed thereat
a joviality which though somewhat free was yet decorous. I at first
therefore frequented them with pleasure; but towards the time when I
expected my family I gradually withdrew from them, partly because I was
obliged to confess to myself that my wife would not quite approve of
this circle and partly because I was fearful of endangering my official
authority by a too companionable intercourse with the singers.

A few days after my arrival in Cassel I was presented to the Electress
and her daughters, the Princesses _Caroline_ and _Marie_, and was
invited to their evening parties. At one of these I was requested
to play some of my quartets, which I expressly practised beforehand
with the most distinguished members of the court-orchestra. Messrs.
_Wiele_, solo violinist, _Barnbeck_, first violinist, and _Hasemann_,
first violincellist (my former quartetist in Frankfort, who had been
engaged at Cassel shortly before). These music parties, which were much
spoken of, were probably the reason why the Elector, who, separated
from his wife, never joined her evening circle, gave me the order to
give a court-concert, in order to afford an opportunity for himself
and the Countess _Reichenbach_ to hear me play. This concert, for
which I enlisted the services of all the talent among the singers and
court-orchestra, was given in the grand saloon of the palace, before a
brilliant company (in which of course the Electress did not appear, as
the Countess _Reichenbach_ occupied her place), and as it was the first
at the new court, it made a great sensation. It was, however, the only
one for a long time, as the Elector and the Countess took but little
interest in concert music.

By the wish of the orchestra I assumed also the direction of the
concerts which they gave in the new town-hall saloon, and appeared
also at one of them as solo player. In the first years their receipts
were divided, as they had previously been, among the members of the
orchestra; but later, upon my proposition, they were appropriated to
a relief-fund for the widows and the families of deceased members
of the orchestra, and managed by a committee according to rules and
regulations devised for that purpose. This relief fund, which from
that period was supplied from the receipts from the concerts given
every winter by the court orchestra and those from the performance
of an oratorio on Good Fridays, is still in existence (1853), and in
the course of years has alleviated the distress of many widows and
orphans of the members of the orchestra. But for several years past
the concerts have been no more given in the town-hall, but in the
court theatre, from the time the former Elector became patron of the
institution, who, as little as the present Elector, could make up his
mind to be present at a concert given anywhere else than in the theatre.

       *       *       *       *       *

(Resumed in April 1858 after a pause of five years.)

 (In this continuation, of the Journal, written in _Spohr’s_
 seventy-fifth year, the manuscript would no longer permit of being
 printed so _verbally_ as previously, and here and there, to avoid too
 much prolixity, it was necessary to make _omissions_. Some _gaps_,
 nevertheless, which required filling up have been so far completed
 only as the citation of _Spohr’s own words_ in letters written to
 absent friends, would permit of,--so that the reader may rely upon
 the subject matter as faithfully given and that _only Spohr himself
 speaks, without any additions from the pen of others_, up to the
 mournful period (June 1858) when his biographical notes, which reach
 to the year 1838, break off altogether.)

Shortly after my arrival in Cassel, I was invited by the countess
_Hessenstein_ to a music-party. I there met several dilettanti of
the town, who all sang, though in their own very bad style only. As
nevertheless some of them had the gift of good voices, it suggested
of me the idea of directing my exertions on that side also, and
beginning by the institution of a choral society. I therefore formed
an acquaintance with some of the singers, communicated my plan to
them, and we immediately arranged to meet on an early day in order to
consult further upon the steps necessary to be taken. As result of
this meeting a code of regulations was drawn up, and as early as the
22nd March following an invitation was sent round to the dilettanti of
Cassel, signed by myself, Mr. _von Steuber_, and secretary _Knyrim_,
to join the society we were about to establish under the name of the
“Society of St. Cecilia,” in order, “after the example of the majority
of the larger towns of Germany, to strive here also towards the same
noble aim, to awaken and cultivate a pure and correct taste for music
of an exalted and earnest character.” As the enterprise met with a
cordial welcome, the society was soon formed, and upon its opening
began first with the study of _Mozart’s_ incomparable _Ave Verum_, then
with _Haydn’s_ Hymns of Thanks, and _Mozart’s_ first mass, followed by
a _Salve Regina_ by _Hauptmann_, a charmingly beautiful composition in
the real, pious ecclesiastical style. Meanwhile the number of members
had increased to more than fifty, and such satisfactory progress was
made in the weekly rehearsals, that already in the first year of its
institution the society performed several times in the catholic church
accompanied by the organ, during divine service, masses by _Hauptmann_
and others.

In the theatre also, after I had got to know the singers and orchestra
more intimately, my sphere of action began to extend itself. The
first quite new work studied under my direction was the opera “Zemira
and Azor,” which I had written at Frankfort, and which was first
performed on the 24th March. A young, talented singer, Miss _Canzi_,
who was just then on a professional visit to Cassel, sang the part of
Zemira, and _Gerstäcker_, the then much admired first tenor of our
stage, the part of Azor. As the other characters of the opera were also
well represented, it could not fail to be as well received here as at
Frankfort, so that not only was it repeated during _Canzi’s_ stay, a
few days afterwards, but also immediately studied by her successor,
Miss _Roland_, and given several times during the course of the year
with great applause. But far more pleasure than from the enthusiastic
approbation of the public, did I receive from the circumstance that the
opera pleased me, who had not heard it for two years, and I was a still
more severe judge of my later productions. I was also now more than
ever convinced, that this, like many of my compositions required to be
given in strict accordance with the spirit of the work to please the
non-connoisseur as well; and that my music, if negligently played, can
readily be so spoiled, that the connoisseur himself would be at a loss
to understand it. Meanwhile, in the beginning of March 1822 my family
arrived under the protection of my brother _Ferdinand_, who had fetched
them from Dresden on his way here from Berlin, and we removed together
to the house I had hired in the Bellevue. Once more settled down in
the domestic circle I immediately began to compose the new opera
“Jessonda,” and finished it in December of the same year. [In a letter
written to _Speyer_ of Frankfort on 26th January 1823, he says: “I have
been latterly so much engaged upon a new opera that I have somewhat
neglected everything else. It is now ready, and I am right glad to have
completed so important a work. If I expect more from this opera than
from the earlier ones, it is because of my greater experience, and
the inspiration I felt in the study of almost every ‘number’ of the
successfully written libretto. In order to devote myself to the work
in my hours of inspiration only, I have allowed myself also more time
with this than with all the former ones.”] Some “numbers” from it--the
overture, an air of Jessonda’s, and the well-known duet between Amazili
und Nadori--were performed the very same winter at the subscription
concerts, and my daughter _Emilia_ gained much applause in them. The
entire opera was first represented upon our stage on the birthday of
the Elector, the 28th July, in the following summer, and was received
with general acclamation. [In a letter of the 2nd August 1823, appears,
further: “You wish to hear from me something respecting the first
representation of ‘Jessonda;’ it is a subject scarcely becoming me to
write upon, for without wishing to do so, I must nevertheless speak
in praise of it. The effect was great! It is the fashion here, upon
birthdays to receive the court only with applause, and then the opera
is listened to without any _loud_ demonstration of approbation. It
should also have been so now; but already before the end of the first
act a storm of applause burst forth, and etiquette was forgotten for
the rest of the evening. The performance was excellent. _Gerstäcker_,
Miss _Roland_, _Hauser_ were grand, Miss _Braun_ was endurable at
least, and better than in other characters. The chorus and orchestra,
scenery, dances, spectacle combats, storm, decorations, costume, every
thing, was excellent.... This work has made me very happy, and I have
reason to hope that the opera will please much in other places.”]

From the windows of our house on the Bellevue we had a very fine view
across the meadows into the valley, which is enlivened by the Leipzic
high-road, and the beauty of the country induced us to take frequent
walks in the charming environs of Cassel. In these walks we were
mostly attracted by the numerous villas situated in gardens, outside
the Wilhelmshöhe, and also of the Cologne gate; and as we began to
like this part very much, we soon felt the wish, also, to have such a
house with garden as we had already once rented in Gotha, that we might
call our own property. When therefore in our rambles any one of these
particularly took our fancy. I often made enquiries whether the owner
was disposed to sell it, but was frequently answered in the negative,
until at length a small country-house outside the Cologne gate, close
to the town and not far from the theatre, in a quiet neighbourhood
surrounded on all sides by gardens, was offered to me to purchase. As
the price asked for it did not exceed the amount of my small savings
placed with the firm of _William Speyer_ of Frankfort, I concluded the
purchase of it at once, and already in the autumn we moved into the
newly-acquired property and had the pleasure of gathering forthwith a
good harvest of fruit and vegetables. The only thing I missed in the
new house was a spacious music room. I therefore had a partition wall
removed that separated two rooms on the first floor, and by that means
gained a sufficiently roomy saloon for a quartet party, which, however,
had the defect in an acoustic point of view, of being too low; for
which reason I proposed to myself at a later period to erect a building
with a music room.

Our pretty quiet country-house incited me anew to fresh compositions,
and so I first wrote a third quartet to the two already begun in
Dresden, which were published by _Peters_ of Leipzic as Op. 58. In
order to have this quartet heard and the former ones, I established
here also a quartet circle, at which, in turn with some other families
who were lovers of music, we gave three quartets every week, and
concluded the evenings with a frugal supper. At first the quartet
consisted of myself, Mr. _Wiele_, solo violinist, and subsequently
concert-master of our court orchestra, of my brother _Ferdinand_, who
took the viol, and of our excellent violincellist _Hasemann_. But as by
degrees, both in the orchestra, and in this small circle, death made
some vacancies, others were obliged to be substituted in their place,
and then some time was always required until we obtained once more the
old, customary ensemble again. In 1831 my brother was first snatched
from us, then _Wiele_, and at last _Hasemann_; but their places were
again filled by new members of our court orchestra, so that the
quartet parties, which only took place in the winter months, never
ceased entirely, and I myself up to quite recently (1858) played two
quartets in each of them.

After I had completed the third quartet of Op. 58, a fancy seized me
to carry out an idea I had long conceived, and of which, if I am not
mistaken, _Andrew Romberg_, when we played a quartet together for
the last time before his death, first spoke of, viz. to try my hand
at a double quartet. The circumstance that _Romberg_ had entertained
the idea for several years without ever attempting it, incited me
to it yet more, and I imagined to myself the manner in which he had
also comprehended it, and how two quartet parties sitting close to
each other, should be made to play _one_ piece of music, and keep in
reserve the eight-voice play for the chief-parts of the composition
only. According to this idea, I also wrote my first double quartet
(_B minor_), began the theme of the first allegro with both quartets
_unisono_, and _forte_, in order to impress it well upon the hearers,
and then carried it concerted through both quartets in turn. Of the
families who belonged to the quartet circle, the marshal of the court
_von der Malsburg_ had the most spacious place, for which reason
I waited until the turn came to him to give the quartet party, at
which I then with the assistance of my best pupils and of a second
violincellist from the orchestra, gave the new double quartet to our
circle, to hear. I was greatly pleased to find that its effect was
far greater than that of simple quartets and quintets, and as this
kind of chamber music excited also great sensation abroad[27], as was
proved by its frequent performance, I expected nothing less than that
the composers of that day would soon imitate it and make it general.
But this was as little the case, as with some other extensions of the
forms of art, which I have tried in later years, as for instance
in the symphony for two orchestras: “Irdisches und Göttliches im
Menschenleben.” (The earthly and heavenly in human life, Op. 121) in
the historical symphony (Op. 116), and the four-handed piano-forte
accompaniment to some tenor songs. One single young composer only,
of Lubeck, of the name of _Pape_, who was afterwards appointed
violincellist in the orchestra of the theatre at Bremen, once sent me
a double quartet in manuscript. He had great talent for composition,
but found no opportunity of making his things known, and like so many
young Germans, became desponding for want of the recognition of his
talent. This has never been published, and thus my four double quartets
remain the only ones of their kind. An octet for stringed instruments
by _Mendelssohn-Bartholdy_ belongs to quite another kind of art, in
which the two quartets do not concert and interchange in double choir,
with each other, but all eight instruments work together. This kind,
although not so interesting as the double quartets, has been imitated;
for the violincellist _Schuberth_ of St. Petersburg published one of
the kind at his brother’s, the music-publisher’s in Hamburg, which has
been played by us in Cassel several times, and been well received.

[27] The “Vienna Allgemeinen musikalischen Anzeiger,” of the 14th
March, said among other things, in announcing the publication by
_Peters_ [Op. 65] of this work: “To waste words in praising this double
quartet, which all unite in admiring, would be carrying coals to
Newcastle.”

At this time I was engaged besides on various other compositions: two
pot-pourris on themes from “Jessonda” (Op. 64 and 66, at _Peter’s_ in
Leipzic), one for violin, the other for violin and violincello, both
of which I played in the course of the winter in our subscription
concerts. I further composed a hymn to St. Cecilia, written by Miss
_von Calenberg_ for the festival of the 22nd November, which consisted
of chorus with a brilliant soprano solo, the latter very well executed
upon the occasion by my eldest daughter _Emilia_.[28]

[28] The manuscript remained unpublished for many years, and was only
recently published bei _Luckhardt_ in Cassel as Op. 97.

For the celebration of this day, which our choral society did this year
for the first time, a company of about 120 persons assembled, mostly
friends of the members of the society, in the Austrian saloon, which
had been handsomely decorated for the occasion, and ornamented with
a life-size picture of St. Cecilia. The festival began with the hymn
to St. Cecilia, after which a member delivered a discourse upon the
musical art, and with the most flattering expression of the thanks and
acknowledgements of the society, presented me with a valuable gift,
consisting of two large bronze candelabra executed by the subsequently
so celebrated sculptor _Henschel_, and ornamented with scenes from my
three operas performed here. This was followed by a “Lord’s Prayer”
by _Feska_, the _Salve regina_ by _Hauptmann_, and during the supper,
some songs for male voices were sung. In the following year _Hauptmann_
composed another hymn written by Miss _von Calenberg_ in celebration of
the name-day of our holy patroness, and as this, together with my
composition, met with the same general approbation, both these pieces
of music were executed in turn upon all the subsequent celebratimes
of the festival. The voluntary contributions which were collected
upon these occasions were applied only to charitable purposes, and
the celebration of the day although sometimes interrupted by some
disturbances, continued to be observed up to a late period, sometimes
on a more limited and at others on a more extensive scale.

In the following year (1824) I received an invitation from Councillor
_Küstner_, who was then director of the Leipzic theatre, to bring
out my opera of “Jessonda” upon that stage. [A letter of the 14th
February furnishes an account of its successful performance there on
the 9th of that month: “Upon entering the orchestra I was received with
general acclamation, the overture was called for again with a loud and
continued _da capo_. Every ‘number’ was received with lively applause,
and four of them called for again, of which one was a chorus, the first
of the 2nd act. The greatest, and really stormy enthusiasm, was created
by the duet between Amazili and Nadori. After the conclusion of the
first act a speaker stood up in a box on the first tier, and addressed
me in a speech in which he characterised me as a _true master_ of
_German art_, and called upon the audience to give me a “three times
three”! This actually took place with a flourish of trumpets and
kettle-drums in a tutti such as I thought would bring down the walls of
the theatre. At the conclusion of the opera the same scene occurred,
and the house rang with cries of “_da capo_ Jessonda!” The day after
the performance Councillor _Küstner_ sent me double the amount of the
honorarium agreed upon, and when upon my departure from the inn I was
about to pay my bill, I found that it had been already settled....
_Peters_, the publisher of the selections from it for pianoforte,
declared to me also, that after _such a success_ of the opera, the
honorarium I had fixed was too small, and that I must now permit him to
fix one for it.”] On the 14th June of the same year, the opera was also
produced at Frankfort, for the first time, and after that on the stage
of all the principal theatres of Germany.

Some time afterwards I received the command from the Elector to write
a new opera to celebrate the marriage of his daughter the Princess
_Marie_ with the Duke of Saxe-Meiningen, which was to take place in
the spring of 1825. The subject I had before proposed in Vienna to
_Theodore Körner_ to arrange for me, _Musäus’s_ tale of the “Rübezahl,”
now came into my mind, and I therefore applied to Mr. _Edward Gehe_
in Dresden, who had written the libretto of “Jessonda” so much to my
satisfaction. But as I could not send to him a clear outline of the
scenes for the opera, not being myself as yet well decided respecting
the working-up of the materials, his fancy could not assist him in the
matter, and he sent me a libretto that did not all come up with my
ideas, and to which I did not at all feel myself inclined to compose. I
now called to mind my former kettle-drummer in the Frankfort orchestra,
the already-mentioned _George Döring_, who was at the same time a
literary man, and who since then had made himself known by several
successful novels. I therefore addressed myself to him, and explained
my views respecting the working-up of the “Rübezahl,” particularly
pointing out to him, that as I intended this to be a grand opera,
it would not be necessary to write it in rhyming verse. In _Gehe’s_
“Rübezahl” there were many things both shallow and inappropriate,
and which appeared to me as caused by the shackles imposed upon the
author by the rhyme, and this _Döring_, by my express wish, was to
avoid altogether. Although this has been greatly objected to, I am
nevertheless of opinion that the want of the rhyme in my opera “Der
Berggeist,” although it does not fulfill all that could be desired,
is the least to be blamed for it. Although _Döring’s_ libretto was
neither altogether to my mind, yet there was no time to be lost, and
less so, since this was not the only work the elector had requested
me to prepare for the celebration of the marriage. I had besides to
compose a grand march with introduction of the melody of the old
German ballad: “Und als der Grossvater die Grossmutter nahm,” together
with a torch-light-dance for fifty-three trumpeters, and two pair of
kettle-drummers (for these were the numbers to be found in the music
bands of the army of the Elector of Hesse); and as for the sake of the
modulation I was obliged to take various tones of the trumpets, and
the trumpeters of the bands not being very musical, I was obliged to
practise them also beforehand in this torch-light-dance.

At the end of the year, nevertheless, I was ready with all these
compositions, and could now proceed to the study of the “Berg-Geist.”
Our first tenor _Gerstäcker_, who had been ill for some time past, had
meanwhile become worse, and his malady had taken so sad a turn, that
all likelihood of his being able to sing was out of the question, and
we were now without a first tenor. The Elector therefore gave orders
to invite some foreign singer to perform for a series of nights in his
place, and we were so successful as to engage for several weeks the
services of the tenorist _Cornet_ of Hamburg, who was then in great
repute, together with his betrothed, Miss _Kiel_ of Sondershausen, who
undertook the first soprano part in the new opera. Scarcely, however,
had I begun the study of the work by our own theatrical company, than
I received from _Spontini_ an invitation that very much surprised me,
viz. to proceed to Berlin, to direct the first representation there of
the opera of “Jessonda,” fixed for the 4th of February, and to preside
myself at the two last grand rehearsals. _Spontini_, who must often
have seen himself reproached in the Berlin newspapers, for giving
nothing but his own operas, and witholding other meritorious works
from that stage, might have come to the idea of meeting that reproach
in the most signal manner by inviting the composer of “Jessonda.” But
in reality he did not seem to trouble himself much in furthering the
representation of the opera; for as soon as, having obtained leave of
absence, I arrived at Berlin, and waited upon _Spontini_, he received
me in a very friendly manner, it is true, but informed me that the
preparatory-rehearsals even had not yet been begun, and that he had
sent me the invitation without the previous knowledge of the intendant
of the royal theatre, Count _Brühl_. I now first sought to soften
the sensitiveness of the latter on the score of such a neglect, and
in order not to be obliged to return home without having effected
anything, I then consulted with him on all that was necessary to
expedite the representation of the opera.

In the preparatory rehearsals which now took place, I had the
satisfaction of finding that the principal parts were in good hands:
_Bader_ and _Blume_ as Nadori and Tristan, and Mdmes. _Schulze_ and
_Seidler_ as Jessonda and Amazili, were excellent singers; the part
of Dandau also was well filled by Mr. _Krause_, and that of Lopez,
which had at first been given to a comic singer, by which the serious
character of the opera would have been damaged, was taken by the
baritone _Devrient_, after I had agreed to make some alterations in
the recitatives. The opera could thus have been soon placed on the
repertory, when _Bader_ suddenly fell ill, and after his convalesence
Mrs. _Seidler_, being seized with a hoarseness occasioned some
obstruction. As the term of my leave of absence was nearly at an end,
I made application for an extension of it. But the Elector had felt
himself aggrieved by the obstacles thrown in my way by _Spontini_ and
the Berlin intendance, and he allowed me but a few days more, after the
expiration of which I was to return, whether the opera was brought out
or not. Fortunately, Mdme. _Seidler_ got better; I could now therefore
direct in person the first representation of “Jessonda” in Berlin, and
be witness to its very favourable reception. Immediately after, I left,
and travelled three whole nights without resting, in order to regain
the time lost.

The two singers from Hamburg had arrived in the meantime, and had
already performed with great applause; I could therefore begin the
stage rehearsals of the “Berg-Geist” at once. But between whiles I
received furthermore the elector’s order to arrange choruses for the
prologue to the opera, in which were to be introduced some popular
Thuringian melodies. To effect this I applied to my pupil _Grund_,
concertmaster at Meiningen, who procured for me the desired melodies,
which I then made use of in the work as well as they would admit of it.

On the 23rd March 1825, the marriage took place in the palace of
Bellevue. On the procession of the new-married pair and their
suite from the dining-hall to the white saloon, the orchestra
played my march, which had a good effect, and at the part where the
“Grossvater-Lied” was introduced was very pretty. The Elector, and
the Duke (who was decidedly more musical than his father-in-law) both
congratulated me much upon the grand march, which, at their request,
was played a second time. The reception of the married couple at the
festive representation on the following evening in the theatre, was a
very brilliant and noisy one; for I ordered the fifty-three trumpeters
and the two pair of kettle-drummers whom I had placed up in the gallery
to join in with the acclamations and vivats of the audience! The
festive-prologue written by counsellor _Niemeyer_ followed; then my new
opera “Der Berg-Geist,” which in truth was received by the thronged
and brilliantly lighted house with as much boisterous applause as
“Jessonda,” but which neither pleased me so much, nor was so popular
on other stages as the latter. The Elector, who was very satisfied
with all I had written for the occasion, sent for me the next-day,
thanked me, and presented me with a very handsome snuff-box, upon the
lid of which, though somewhat unsuitable for a musician, was a very
artistic chasing representing a combat of cavalry, set and framed
under glass. But--and that was the best part of it--it was filled with
Friedrich’s-d’or, and therefore a handsome and princely gift.

A few months afterwards Councillor _Küstner_ sent for my new opera
to Leipzic, and in September the first representation of it on that
stage took place. [A letter of the 18th September speaks of it in
the following manner: “The day before yesterday “Der Berg-Geist”
was launched here with the greatest success.... The _mise en scene_
was more brilliant than was ever known before in Leipzic, and some
of the scenes were more beautiful than any I had ever yet seen. The
scene-painter _Gropius_ is in a fair way to become the first in the
world; neither in Italy, Paris nor London have I ever seen anything so
charming as the closing-scene of the second act.... The reception the
opera met with, was the most flattering I had ever yet experienced....
The performance may be said to have been a very successful one. With
the exception of one error in the overture, and one obstinate rock
which would not come up out of the earth, nothing went wrong. On
the stage, almost all did better than in Cassel, particularly the
Berg-Geist (_Köckert_) and Oscar (_Vetter_).... The orchestra, although
far inferior to ours, was unusually good.”]

In the summer of 1825 an aimable young man, _Frederick Curschman_
of Berlin, came to Cassel to perfect himself under my guidance as
a musician. Although he had begun the study of jurisprudence at
Göttingen, he thought nevertheless of giving up the law, and had
already tried his hand with success at various kinds of literature,
particularly in songs, which he sung with a pleasing baritone voice,
and thereby introduced himself into our musical circle. As his musical
education was still imperfect, I advised him to apply first to
_Hauptmann_, who at my request had undertaken to instruct my violin
pupils in the theory of music, and shown great skill in that capacity.
_Curschmann_ also immediately joined our society of St. Cecilia, and
became a very valuable member of it, as he not only sang the bass soli
very well at sight, but frequently took the pianoforte accompaniment,
and did the duty of a librarian with great zeal. Together with some of
our best dilettanti he formed also an opera circle, in which for the
first time were produced several of his compositions which afterwards
became such favorites, and parts of his little opera “Die Todten, oder
Abdul und Erinnieh,” which was brought out at a later period upon the
stage here. He thus in many ways enlivened the culture of art in our
town, and soon became the favorite of the musical world.

In the same year Councillor _Rochlitz_, the editor of the Leipzic
Musical Journal, offered me the text of an Oratorio: “Die letzten
Dinge,” to compose for; which I received with great pleasure, as my
previous attempt in that style of art, “Das jüngste Gericht,” the
oratorio performed at Erfurt, by no means pleased me any longer, and
therefore I had not once been disposed to perform a single “number”
of it at the meetings of our society. I now began with new studies
of counter-point, and of the ecclesiastic style, and set zealously
to work on the composition, in which I followed the prescriptions of
the author which he had forwarded to me with the text, in respect to
its treatment, and which I not only strictly adhered to, but found of
assistance to me. The first part of the oratorio was thus soon ready,
and as early as the end of November I could give it with the members of
our choral society, at a concert in behalf of the sufferers from the
fire that had occurred shortly before at Seesen; although it is true,
with pianoforte accompaniment only. On that occasion, I observed with
great pleasure, that it made a deep impression upon the assistants, as
well as upon all the auditory, and this observation was of the more
importance to me, as it convinced me that I had found the proper style
for this kind of work. I had in particular striven to be very simple,
religious, and true in expression, and carefully to avoid all artistic
trickery, all bombast and every thing of difficult execution. With
increased zest I now proceded to compose the second part, so that the
whole work was finished by the following Good Friday (1826) and then
first performed complete in the Lutheran church. [A letter of the 26th
March speaks of it in the following manner: “Yesterday was a great day
of festival for the lovers of music here; for never yet had so solemn
a musical performance as my oratorio taken place in Cassel. It was in
the evening, and the church was lighted up. My son-in-law _Wolff_,
who had been long in Rome, proposed to illuminate the church as at
Rome on Good Friday, with lights disposed overhead in the form of a
cross, and carried out his idea. A cross fourteen feet long, covered
with silver-foil, and hung with six hundred glass lamps, was suspended
overhead in the middle of the church, and diffused so bright a light
that one could everywhere clearly read the text-books. The musicians
and singers, nearly two hundred in number, were placed in the gallery
of the church, arranged in rows one above the other, and for the most
part unseen by the auditory, which, amounting to nearly two thousand
persons, observed a solemn stillness. My two daughters, Messrs. _Wild_,
_Albert_ and _Föppel_, together with an amateur, sang the soli, and
the performance was faultless. The effect was, I must myself say,
extraordinary. Never did I before experience such satisfaction from
the performance of one of my greater works! I had always had to lament
either an imperfect execution, an unsuccessful effect, or something
else. This time it was quite different. The work, also, is simple and
easy, and yet not less comprehensive in contents, than the others.”]
The visibly deep impression that the oratorio made upon the public
may also have been yet further assisted by the solemn grandeur of
the illuminated cross--which harmonized greatly with the religious
sentiment inspired by the day. The elector only was not pleased with
the selection of the Lutheran church and its “catholic illumination,”
as he called the cross, and he ordered that the orchestra should give
their future Good Friday concerts in the court and garrison church,
lit up with chandeliers to be furnished from the electoral household
lighting department.

Shortly afterwards I received an invitation from my London friend
_Ferdinand Ries_, who had returned to Germany, and was then living
in the neighbourhood of Godesberg on the Rhine, to direct personally
my new oratorio at the Rhenish musical festival at Düsseldorf, the
arrangements for which had been confided to him. Although the Rhenish
musical festival was held at Whitsuntide, and therefore at a time when
our theatrical vacation had not yet begun, and I therefore required
to obtain an express permission to do so, I nevertheless succeeded in
obtaining it immediately, for the Elector felt himself flattered when
his director of music was invited to important musical performances,
and thereby acquired honour and fame.

While therefore I prepared to set out with my whole family, except
_Ida_ who, in the meanwhile, had married Professor _Wolff_, four of the
most ardent lovers of music here, Mr. _Curschmann_, the referendary
_Charles Pfeiffer_, Mrs. _von der Malsburg_ and her friend Miss _von
Heister_, made up their minds to join us, and like us to travel by
post, in order to be able to put up at dinner-time, and at night at the
same places. Favoured by the finest weather, we set out on our journey
on the 9th May 1826, and as the carriages always kept close together,
we exchanged places in them sometimes, always took our meals together,
and our pleasant and spirited conversation was not at all interrupted,
so that I never recollect having made a more agreeable journey.

On the third day we were met three miles from Düsseldorf by the
festival committee and the family of the State-Councillor _von
Sybel_, at whose house I and the members of my family were to stop;
and scarcely had we arrived at Düsseldorf, than we were welcomed by
the choral-society with a serenade. At the first general rehearsal,
which was held on the following morning, I had the satisfaction of
finding that my oratorio had been carefully and correctly studied by
the different societies, and was sung with an enthusiastic feeling for
the work. I could not feel so content with the orchestra, which had
been gathered together from different places, and in which dilettanti
assisted, and among others, my friend _Thomae_ from Cleves, among the
wind instruments. It was therefore a difficult matter to bring all
the instruments to the same pitch, and it could only be effected by
great patience and frequent repetitions. In the afternoon of the same
day, the rehearsal of the performances for the second day was held,
which _Ries_ conducted. At it were given a new symphony by _Ries_
(manuscript _D_ major), a Sanctus and a Credo from a mass by _Frederick
Schneider_, the jubilee overture of _Carl Maria von Weber_, and lastly,
a selection of the finest “numbers” from _Handel’s_ “Messiah.” As
Miss _Reinigen_ of Crefeld, the solo singer, was taken suddenly ill,
my daughter _Emilia_ was obliged to take the soprano part also in the
vocal performances. But so diligently did she study it, that already
at the very first rehearsal she went through the business right well,
and by her aid all derangement of the festival was obviated. But so
much the greater was _Ries’s_ difficulty with the wind instruments in
his symphony. He nevertheless displayed in the matter great patience,
and dealt very leniently with the awkwardness of the dilettanti. On
the following day were held two more rehearsals of the performances
for the first and second day of Whitsuntide (the 14th and 15th May),
which then, after such careful rehearsals passed off without a fault.
My oratorio was received with such enthusiasm by those who played
and by the auditory, that on the evening of the very first day, the
prolongation of the festival was mooted in order to repeat once more
“Die letzten Dinge” for the benefit of the Greeks. This was publicly
announced on the second day of the performances, and the majority of
the strangers present stopped in order to be present at its repetition.
Thus my work had the honour conferred upon it of a second performance,
of which I might well be proud, as since then so far as I know of, such
a thing has never happened to any work given at the Rhenish musical
festivals. In the musical journals, also, there appeared several very
favourable notices of my oratorio, and I therefore hastened to publish
selections from it for the pianoforte. But the edition I issued was
soon sold off, and a second was therefore published afterwards by
_Simrock_ of Bonn, who also brought out the song parts with it, by
which the performances of the work in almost all the towns of Germany,
Holland and Switzerland was very much facilitated. I could therefore
be very content with the reception of this oratorio, and frequently
as it was performed and spoken of, no voice was ever heard raised in
condemnation of it.

In the course of this year I wrote besides a second quintet (_B_
flat minor, Op. 69, published by _Peters_) and three quartets (Op.
74, also by _Peters_). But I now longed to begin a greater work, and
particularly an opera, although the “Berg-Geist” acquired no extensive
popularity, since, after the representations in Cassel and Leipzic, it
was only given at Prague, where it met several times with a brilliant
reception. As _Curschmann_ at the same time entertained a similar
desire, he had requested his fellow-traveller and friend, _Charles
Pfeiffer_, who at that time had begun to make himself a name as a poet,
to work up a novel of _Tieck’s_, “Pietro von Abano” as an opera text.
He may however have felt himself not yet quite sufficiently advanced in
his musical culture, and therefore when _Pfeiffer_ had completed the
first act of the libretto, he abandoned his project of attempting so
soon a grand opera. He now offered me the composition of Pietro, and
as the novel, as well as the manner in which it had been worked up,
pleased me greatly, I soon came to an arrangement with both gentlemen
respecting it, and in February 1827, set to work very assiduously upon
it, and completed it in August of the same year. The opera occasioned
me anxiety at first, on account of the immediate succession of two
scenes--a funeral, and the pranks of a band of merry students--so
strikingly dissimilar and incongruous as to render their proximity
unpleasant: neither did I at all like the speaking part of the bishop,
without any singing. But as this part was taken by _Seydelmann_, who
was then engaged at our theatre from pure interest he took in the
work, and was performed in a very dignified manner, I became more
satisfied with it, and had the gratification of finding that it made
a deep impression upon the performers, the orchestra, and my musical
friends who were permitted to assist at the rehearsals. On its first
representation, on the 13th October 1827, it was also received by the
public with a similar enthusiasm to “Jessonda,” and I had therefore
reason to hope that like it also, it would soon obtain popularity
beyond Cassel. But when at the request of the directors of some other
theatres I forwarded the book to them, I soon found that not only did
the catholic towns disapprove of the introduction of the bishop and the
ecclesiastical forms on the stage, but the intendants of theatres in
protestant towns, also, and among others, Count _Brühl_ in Berlin, who
rejected the opera, because they had some scruples about the contents.
At that time it is true, many of the later operas and plays, which
since then have hardened the public against all objectionable matter,
had not become the fashion of the day. But _Meyerbeer_, who now wanted
to hear the opera with all these circumstances of form, expressed
himself in regard to it in the following manner in a letter of the 4.
March 1828: “I cannot conclude my letter without thanking you for the
pleasure that the perusal of the score of your master-piece “Pietro
von Abano,” which Mr. _Schlesinger_ lent to me, has afforded me, and
I am happy to be able to say, that in particular the first act, the
first finale (although only furnished by the poet with two personages),
the scene between Antonio and the half-lifeless Cecilia in the second
act, and the ingenious manner in which the stringed instruments, half
_con sordini_, half _senza sordini_, shadow forth the dialogue between
the living Antonio and the spirit-like Cecilia; the imposing finale
of the second act; and besides these, numerous other features of
splendid dramatic intention, excellent declamation, novel, picturesque
instrumentation and harmony, have truly charmed me, and excited in
me the most ardent desire to be present at a performance of your
master-piece.”

In the year 1828, I wrote my second double-quartet, and endeavoured to
bring it nearer to my first idea of the double choral style, than the
first: in this I succeeded to my own satisfaction. I played it for the
first time publicly in one of our winter-concerts of December, with
great applause, and it soon found the same appreciation and publicity
in other places as the previous one. Shortly afterwards I received an
invitation to conduct my oratorio “Die letzten Dinge” at a musical
festival that was to take place at Halberstadt on the 4th June 1828,
and I set out this time accompanied only by my wife and my youngest
daughter _Theresa_, as shortly before, my daughter _Emilia_ had married
a manufacturer of the name of _Zahn_, and could leave her domestic
concerns as little as _Ida_.

My oratorio was excellently performed by the different choral-societies
that had been invited for that purpose, as they were all enthusiastic
admirers of it, and gave it the preference over all other works then
performed.

At the second concert I played my new concertino in _A_ major (Op.
79, published by _Schlesinger_), and I think that, upon the same
occasion, also, my just finished third symphony in _C_ minor (Op. 78,
also published by _Schlesinger_) was then performed for the first
time. One circumstance, the remembrance of which is still impressed
upon my memory, and which relates to my daughter _Theresa_, then nine
years old, I must yet relate. I took the child with me to all the
rehearsals, as she would always attend those at Düsseldorf, and I
augured from that, a great love for music. In Halberstadt _Theresa_
expressed especial pleasure in the concluding “number” of the oratorio,
and as that was a fugue on the words: “His is the kingdom, the power,
and glory,” I furthermore concluded that she had not only a strong
sentiment for music generally, but also for its graver forms, and I
even imparted to _Dorette_ the pleasure I felt at the happy disposition
of our child. But when I questioned _Theresa_ more closely respecting
her preference for the fugue, I was informed to my great surprise
and to my shame, “that she only liked the piece of music in question
better than all the rest, because she knew, that, as at Dusseldorf,
the rehearsal would soon be over, and that then we should _go home
to dinner_!”--Shortly afterwards I received from the parties who got
up this musical festival a permanent, and more gratifying cause to
remember the same; for they sent me, as a mark of their gratitude, a
costly table-clock, ornamented with appropriate emblems, and bearing on
the pedestale an inscription, with the date.

In the course of the year I wrote three more violin-quartets, which
were published by _Schlesinger_ as Op. 82, after which, as I was not
very successful with my operas upon other stages, I turned once more
to church music, and in the spring of 1829, wrote my “Lord’s prayer,”
on the text of _Mahlmann_. The effect which this work produced at its
first performance, although only with pianoforte accompaniment, on the
festival of St. Cecilia the same year, was greatly increased, when a
few months afterwards it was given at one of our winter-concerts with
full orchestral accompaniment. It was not only received here in Cassel
upon every repetition up to more recent times, with great approbation,
but it soon found much approval in other places also.

On the 4th June 1829, another musical festival took place at
Nordhausen, to which I was also invited. Of the first day’s performance
I have nevertheless, now no clear recollection; but on the second day
I played with _Müller_ of Brunswick, with _Wiele_ of this place, and
with _Maurer_ of Hannover, a concertante for four violins, of the
composition of the latter. For myself, I chose to play the fourth, on
the occasion, as my Stradivari-violin had a particularly good tone on
the _G_ string, and as we had practised together that celebrated piece
of music very assiduously, the applause was quite extraordinary. My
new clarinet-concerto in _E flat_, which I had written for _Hermstedt_
for this musical festival, met with no less approbation, but it is no
longer in my possession, neither do I now know whether it is still
in existence. During our stay in Nordhausen, we lived in the house
of a Mr. _Fleck_, a merchant, whose wife was a very amiable hostess.
One day at dinner, _Edward Grund_ my former pupil, was prompted to
propose a toast to her, in doing which he introduced the observation
that she “was anything but a Fleck[29] in human society, but much
rather to be called a gleam of light.” I also remember still with
pleasure the beautiful weather that favoured the dinner which the
people of Nordhausen gave to their guests upon a neighbouring hill
which commanded a view of the town. The collation was spread upon the
greensward, and as good wine was by no means wanting, the company soon
became very merry, and returned to town in the best possible humour.

[29] Fleck, in the German language, signifies, a spot, stain, or
blemish.

In August 1829, I wrote a solo-quartet in _E major_ (Op. 83, published
by _Schlesinger_). But my desire to try my fortune once more with an
opera gave me no rest, and I therefore persuaded my friend _Charles
Pfeiffer_ to work up for me the subject of a Spanish novel by
_Washington Irving_, that seemed to me very attractive, and in every
respect adapted for an opera. But as _Pfeiffer’s_ name could not be
mentioned in the playbills, as in the electorate of Hesse it is not
considered becoming for a servant of the state to occupy himself with
poetical works together with his official duties, the indetectable
name of _Schmidt_ was chosen instead of his; just as when “Pietro” was
brought out the author’s name was not mentioned, as _Feige_, then the
director of the theatre, did not like to be responsible to the Elector
and the public for permitting a fictitious name proposed by me to be
placed upon the playbill.--In October 1829, I, therefore, with my usual
zeal, with every new work, set about the composition of the opera
of the “Alchymist,” completed it in April of the following year, and
immediately distributed the parts, in order to perform it on the 28th
July, the birthday of the Elector. It pleased here in Cassel quite as
much as my previous operas, but out of Hesse was represented at Prague
only, though with great approbation;[30] while the selections made from
it for the pianoforte, arranged by my brother _Ferdinand_, found a more
widespread publicity.

[30] In the Vienna “Musicalischer Anzeiger” of the 23rd January 1834 is
the following notice respecting it: “All who have had the opportunity
of hearing and judging for themselves, know and feel that the esteemed
maestro, in all his dramatic compositions, with the exception of the
single, purely genial “Faust,” introduces his hearers less into the
wondrous realm of fancy, than he leads them like a true friend, by
pleasant meandering paths through the charming and balmy groves of
harmony. This work also, breathes the same calm, reflective spirit that
speaks to the heart, the same pure taste, the same style, as noble as
it is elegant, the same constancy, unity and well-sustained interior
connection, that so particularly characterizes all the works of this
perhaps most substantial of all living composers, and which distinguish
also no less this musical creation.”

In June 1830 _Paganini_ came to Cassel and gave two concerts in
the theatre, which I heard with great interest. His left hand, and
his constantly pure intonation were to me astonishing. But in his
compositions, and his execution I found a strange mixture of the highly
genial and childishly tasteless, by which one felt alternately charmed
and disappointed, so that the impression left as a whole was, after
frequent hearing, by no means satisfactory to me. As his visit took
place just on Whitsunday, I took him the next day to Wilhelmshöhe,
where he dined with me, and was very lively, indeed somewhat
extravagantly so.

A few months afterwards the revolution of July broke out in France, and
as a general excitement had extended itself to Germany also, symptoms
of discontent with the public authorities showed themselves also here
in Cassel. Just previously, the Elector had gone to Vienna, accompanied
by the Countess _Reichenbach_, with the object, as it was believed, of
effecting at the Austrian court the elevation of that personage to the
dignity of a princess. He had afterwards repaired to Carlsbad, and from
there came all manner of strange reports about his serious illness,
resulting from some personal conflicts with the Countess _Reichenbach_,
on account of which, his physician Mr. _Heräus_, proceeded to Carlsbad,
but not having been admitted to an audience, returned to Cassel. A
deputation from the members of the privy council was hereupon sent to
Carlsbad; was received several times by the elector, and brought back
intelligence that he would shortly return to his capital. Before this
took place however, on the evening of the 6th September, disturbances
broke out. I was at the moment with my wife at the theatre, where
_Raupach’s_ comedy “Der Zeitgeist” was being performed, and I remarked
on a sudden, that messengers had been sent to the officers who were
present, informing them that “the alarm” had been sounded in the town,
and upon this they all immediately left. This created so much sensation
in the house, that the rest of the audience thought that nothing less
than a great fire had broken out in the town, and they also left the
house in the midst of the performance. Fearing for the safety of our
own and our children’s dwellings, we went out with the rest, and were
at length informed that the excited people had riotously attacked
several bakers’ shops, and committed depredation in the houses of the
owners, because, notwithstanding the fall that had taken place in the
price of corn, they had raised the price of bread. In order to prevent
further excesses on the part of the populace, a number of the citizens
had, with the consent of the ministry, taken up arms, and the military
occupied not only the electoral palace, but the Königstrasse and the
Friederichsplatz, so that the people leaving the theatre could not
pass through the closed streets. We were therefore compelled to make a
circuit to reach our house and when arrived there, dared not retire to
rest at the usual hour, as the commotion that prevailed in the town was
still very great. The Elector did not return till the 12th September,
but at first unaccompanied by the Countess _Reichenbach_, and with
the greatest privacy. He immediately proceeded to Wilhelmshöhe,
whither, a few days after, the magistracy with chief-burgomaster
_Schomburg_ at their head, followed him, to express their pleasure at
his convalescence and return; as also to petition him to assemble the
estates, which had not been done since 1815, and to advise with them
upon the alleviation of many existing grievances. The magistracy was
nevertheless not admitted to an audience till the following morning
in the electoral palace at Cassel, during which, half the town had
collected on the Friedrichsplatz, in order to ascertain immediately
whether the result of the deputation was successful, and if such should
be the case the master-cooper _Herbold_, had agreed to make it known
to the people by waving a white handkerchief from the window of the
chamber of audience. When therefore the deputation in solemn procession
from the Ober-Neustädter town-hall, approached the palace, and had
crossed its threshold, all eyes were directed to the windows of the
audience-chamber, and the decision was anxiously awaited.

The Elector, to whose ears doubtless many disquieting reports had come,
and who could place no dependance on his troops (many of whom, as at
a latter period was shown, desired a constitution) for the protection
of his palace and the successful suppression of the revolution, gave,
to the universal joy of the people a satisfactory reply. Scarcely had
the waving of the white handkerchief announced this to the populace,
than the assembled thousands upon the Friedrichsplatz rent the air
with deafening cheers of Long live the Elector! upon which he shewed
himself for a moment at one of the windows, and acknowledged them with
several bows. In the evening the town was spontaneously illuminated,
and at the theatre, instead of the previously announced piece of
the “Ahnfrau” the “Barber of Seville” was chosen, and the public in
their delight at the appearance of the Elector and his son before
the beginning of the opera, greeted him with tumultuous cheers, and
struck up the “Hail to the elector Wilhelm.” This was followed on the
19th of September by the promised summoning of the ancient estates
of Hesse, consisting of deputies from the nobles, the towns, the
universities and the peasantry, who assembled on the 16th October,
and immediately promulgated a satisfactory report to the people.
On the following day the opening of the assembly of the states was
celebrated by the performance of divine service in the great church,
and by command of the government by a solemn choral hymn sung by the
society of St. Cecilia accompanied by the court orchestra. For this
occasion I selected the last “number” of my cantata composed in Vienna,
“Die Befreiung Deutschlands” (The emancipation of Germany), with its
solo-quartet, and the concluding fugue: “Lasset uns den Dankgesang
erheben” (Let us raise the song of thanks), a four-voice choral piece
which was alternately sung, with the congregation, and the Halleluja
from _Händel’s_ Messiah.

The propositions brought forward by the estates, after several weeks’
discussion between the electoral commissaries and the deputies, were
with various additions and modifications, admitted as basis of the
new constitution of the state as well as for the propositions made by
the Elector respecting a fixed amount for a civil list, and division
of the whole of the state revenues, which besides had been chiefly
accumulated from the sale of the men taken into the pay of the English
to fight against the revolted North-American colonies during the time
of the Elector Friedrich II. The 9th January 1831 was the day fixed
for the promulgation of the new constitution, and on the evening of
the day before, the Electress came back with her daughter _Caroline_
from Fulda, where she had been residing for some time past, in order
to be present at this joyful event. The elector received her upon
his arrival at her residence in the Belle-vue palace, and I received
order from the officer of the lord marshal of the court, to give the
reconciled couple a serenade with the court orchestra. After I had
held the rehearsal in the course of the afternoon for that purpose,
I proceeded with the orchestra in exceedingly cold weather to the
Belle-vue palace, and having ascertained the apartment in which the
court was assembled we drew up outside and played as well as the
extremely unfavourable weather would permit. Towards the end of the
music the princely pair shewed themselves, the Elector embraced his
wife at the window, and the inhabitants of Cassel, who in spite of
the cold had collected in crowds, broke out into a loud cheer of joy.
The next morning the public announcement of the new constitution was
made, and the oaths were taken with due solemnity on the part of the
civic-guard publicly upon the Königsplatz, on that of the military on
the Friedrichsplatz, and by all the authorities, the court officials
and the orchestra in their proper localities. In the evening the town
was illuminated, and at the theatre, brilliantly lighted up, “Jessonda”
was given as festive opera for the occasion, preceded by a play written
for the occasion by counsellor _Niemeyer_. In the latter was introduced
at the same time a hymn composed for it by me, “Hesse’s song of joy
on the establishment of its constitution;” and at the conclusion, the
well-known and previously mentioned melody, which, with appropriate
words, was sung also by the audience, after which the latter greeted
the electoral family assembled in the state box with a storm of cheers.
Everybody now looked forward to a happy future; but unfortunately the
Countess _Reichenbach_, with her brother Mr. _Ortlepp_, returned the
day after to Wilhelmshöhe. This had no sooner become known in Cassel,
as also that the elector had visited her there, than the disturbances
immediately broke out afresh. Citizens and peasantry gathered in crowds
before the palace at Wilhelmshöhe, and threatened aloud to drive the
countess out by force, until it was at length ascertained that she had
left for Hanau, and a public announcement was placarded in Cassel:
“that the _cause_ for the disturbance had been removed.” But a few
weeks afterwards the Elector followed her, as it was thought to take up
his residence altogether at Hanau.

Meanwhile at my house the construction of an additional building
which had been begun the previous summer from a plan drawn by my
son-in-law _Wolff_ was completed. By this, in addition to somewhat more
house-room, I obtained more particularly a music room such as we had
long felt the want of for our quartet parties, which although closely
adjoining the house itself, had nevertheless a higher roof, in order to
give it the desired height. In its decoration also, the chief endeavour
was to obtain a favourable acoustic arrangement, so as to dispense
with all drapery over the windows and doors, which is so obstructive
of sound. On the 2nd February 1831, we consecrated the newly-acquired
space with the celebration of our “Silver Wedding”; at which my parents
from Gandersheim were come to assist, and had brought with them as a
present a porcelain vase richly ornamented with silver, upon which,
besides the names of the donors, was engraved the inscription: “May the
silver of to-day be one day gold!” This fete, properly speaking was
got up by my children, in conjunction with our musical friends, and
was opened by the torch-light dance from my “Faustus” executed by the
guests, with appropriate words to the choral parts. This was followed
by a succession of “Tableaux vivants,” in which the chief incidents
of my life were ingeniously represented. Among many other poems both
of comic and serious import, which were recited at table, my friend
_Pfeiffer_ had also contributed a composition with the view, that all
the persons present should appear in the costume of the characters in
my operas, and that _K. Pfeiffer_ himself should recite the poem. This
poem gave me great pleasure at the time, and its recital, with all its
allusions, excited general merriment, and no one would have dreamed
that its youthful author would be snatched in a few months by death
from our circle. Early in the morning of the 31st July, while bathing
in the river Fulda, he was struck with apoplexy, and his beautiful and
diversified labours in literature were suddenly arrested for ever.
For his obsequies I composed a solemn dirge for several voices, and
subsequently, when the civil guard of this place had a monumental
memorial erected over his early grave, upon its consecration the chorus
from “The last things,” “Selig sind die Todten,” was sung by the St.
Cecilia society with the assistance also of its female members, a
circumstance which upon no previous occasion of the kind had ever taken
place in Cassel. Dr. _B. W. Pfeiffer_, the father of the deceased,
who previously had been known to me only in his official capacity as
chief advocate of the court of appeal, visited me upon the occasion to
thank me for my attention, and in this manner I first became personally
intimate with him, to whom I was at a later period to be more nearly
allied as son-in-law.

Unhappily that was the last family rejoicing which my brother
_Ferdinand_ lived to see. He shortly after fell so seriously ill that
the physicians immediately pronounced him irrecoverable, and I was
present a few days afterwards when he breathed his last. As his widow,
in spite of all her solicitations, received no pension from the bureau
of intendance, and was therefore reduced to the small income paid to
her from the relief-fund which I had instituted a few years before,
I set aside for her subsistence a yearly allowance, with the aid of
which she was enabled to give a good education to both her children
and to allow her son _Ludwig_, my godson, to prepare himself for his
collegiate studies. After some years of diligent study, with a view
of going to the university of Marburg, the young fellow returned to
his earlier expressed desire to devote himself entirely to music. Upon
a closer examination, however, this did not seem to me advisable, as
it was now too late for him to acquire the necessary thorough musical
education, and by my advice he adhered to his chosen profession of
the law, passed a brilliant examination in 1847, and entered into the
official service of the electorate of Hesse.

In the month of April in pursuance of the new constitution, the first
assembly of the estates upon the basis of the new election law was
summoned, and held its sittings in a saloon of the Belle-vue palace.
_Schomburg_, the burgomaster of the capital, was unanimously chosen as
its president, and the government did not dare oppose his nomination.
As the sittings were public, this awakened immediately an active
political vitality in the town, and the debates were followed up to the
conclusion of the session with great interest by all classes. Professor
_Sylvester Jordan_, the deputy from the Marburg university, soon
distinguished himself by his eloquence, and he almost always succeeded
in carrying through his liberal motions in the assembly.

In order to extend these liberal sentiments among the inhabitants of
Cassel, some men well known for their liberal opinions considered it
requisite to form a political club, under the name of the “reading
museum,” and I willingly joined my exertions to theirs. At this place
every afternoon during the session, the various subjects which had
been discussed in the chamber were made known. The sittings of the
deputies were often very stormy ones, though the chairman reprimanded
the non-members every time they applauded a speaker, and threatened
to have all disturbers turned out by the civic guard, yet the
daily visitors at the sitting did not much care about it and still
endeavoured to influence the voting. But the administration of public
affairs suffered considerable detriment from the circumstance that
the Elector had quitted his palace at Cassel since March, and taken
up his residence permanently, at Hanau. As the assembled estates had
failed in all their repeated efforts to persuade him to return to
Cassel, they resolved towards the end of August, in conjunction with
the town council of Cassel, to send a deputation to Hanau, with the
proposition that the Elector should either return without delay to the
capital or adopt means for the undisturbed administration of affairs.
The deputy from Rinteln, _Wiederhold_, president of the high court of
judicature, was one of the deputation, and he succeeded in inducing the
Elector to take his son as co-regent with him in the government, and
to transfer the administration of affairs to him exclusively so long
as he himself remained away from Cassel. Thus the young Prince, after
a long residence at Fulda, returned to Cassel as co-regent, together
with the Countess _Schaumburg_, with whose morganatic marriage with his
son the Elector now expressed himself reconciled. The Prince delivered
to the estates a deed of agreement concerning the solemn maintenance
of the constitutional laws, and was at first received at Cassel with
satisfaction, particularly as he nominated the mediator, _Wiederhold_,
minister of justice. But as it was soon observed that the Electress,
on account of her refusal to acknowledge the Countess _Schaumburg_
as her daughter-in-law, experienced many annoyances and affronts,
considerable disapprobation was displayed in the town, and all classes
generally sided with the amiable Electress, who by her kind sentiments
and mild manners had for long years acquired the love and respect of
the people of Hesse. As for me, I had, however, to congratulate myself
on being in favour with the Prince at that time; and he requested
me to make arrangements for giving him some court concerts at the
palace of Wilhelmshöhe. Upon his returning shortly to the town he even
requested me in a very courteous letter, to afford him and the Countess
the pleasure of hearing some of my quartets, and to arrange for that
purpose a quartet party at the palace. It would seem, however, to have
been a somewhat tedious affair for them, for I never received a second
invitation.

In the autumn 1831 I finished my “Violin-Schule” (course of instruction
for the violin) a work which I had undertaken at the solicitation of
many persons, and on which I was engaged for more than a twelvemonth,
having always begun between-whiles some other compositions which had
more attraction for me.[31]

[31] It was published by _Haslinger_, in Vienna, and the “Wiener
Theater-Zeitung,” conducted by _Ad. Bäuerle_, speaks of it in the
following manner: “A fit companion to _Hummel’s_ ‘Clavier-Schule’
(pianoforte school); for in the same way that that opens a new
department of education in pianoforte play, this embraces the whole
art and science of violin play, and lays down clear principles for an
art which hitherto has been taught more by oral precepts, or, at the
utmost, by small fragmentary pamphlets. It required the penetrating,
searching mind of a _Spohr_, who surpasses in complete scientific
culture the authors of every existing school, to condense in systematic
order so important a branch of art, which has been two centuries in
acquiring shape; so that the _violin_, so prominent in all music, may
be cultivated upon sure and proper principles, and its study carried
out with certain success. How well the great maestro _Spohr_ goes to
work to effect this we shall shew in a subsequent clearer exposition
of the contents; for he has not only copiously treated the scientific
musical culture of the pupil by the clear outspoken method of the
instruction in the explanatory text, assisted by the excellent and
appropriate pieces which he supplies for practice, but also, in the
mechanical part of the instruction, in which the mechanism of the human
body is so beautifully and appositely shewn in all its bearings on the
mechanical structure of the instrument. The excellent preface to the
work presents rules of conduct both for the instructors and parents of
pupils for the obviation of a host of evils which have hitherto arisen
from false and erroneous modes of proceeding, from the circumstance
that few lovers of music, and few teachers of music even, are
sufficiently acquainted with these arcana of the art. Well and clearly
does he enumerate the means of encouragement by which the industry
of the pupil may be incited. How generous is the invitation of the
_famed master to the students of the violin_, that they should impart
to him their experience in the progress of their studies of his code
of instruction for violin-play, for the further extension of his own
knowledge! In this the _great earnestness_ of the true artist for the
attainment of the one great object is made conspicuously evident.”...
The notice concludes with the following words: “The world-famed
master, _Spohr_, has by this _excellent work alone_ ensured an undying
celebrity, and thereby added but a new and beautiful leaf to the laurel
wreathe that encircles his brows.”

I afterwards wrote three quartets, which were published as Op. 84,
by _André_ of Offenbach, and later for the St. Cecilia society three
psalms of _Moses Mendelsohn’s_ translation for two four-voice chorals
and four solo-voices, which were published by _Simrock_ of Bonn [Op.
85], and had an extensive circulation.

In the summer of 1832 I was ordered by my physician to proceed to the
well-known warm sulphur baths of Nenndorf, to cure a stiffness in one
of my knees, and which I had contracted the preceeding winter from a
cold caught while skating. My wife, who accompanied me, had taken with
her among other books, a volume of the poems of my friend _Pfeiffer_,
which were not published till after his decease; and as I had long
wished to set something from it to music in memory of him, I chose one
of them: “Die Weihe der Töne,” which pleased me very much, and appeared
to me particularly well suited for the composition of a cantata. But
when I was about to begin the work, I found that the text of this
style of poem did not lend itself altogether well to it; and I felt
much more disposed to represent the subject matter of the poem in an
instrumental-composition; in this manner originated my fourth symphony,
under the title: “Die Weihe der Töne.” [In a letter to _Speyer_ of the
9th October 1832, this is adverted to in the following words: “Although
I have now no duties to perform at the theatre,[32] and have had
leisure sufficient for composition, I have nevertheless been but little
disposed latterly, to set to work. From the great interest which I took
and still constantly take in the political regeneration of Germany, the
recent retrograde steps have too much annoyed me to permit of my giving
myself calmly to any work of deep study. Nevertheless I have again
lately completed a grand instrumental composition, and that is a fourth
symphony, but which differs greatly in form from the previous ones.
It is a musical composition inspired by a poem of _Karl Pfeiffer’s_:
“Die Weihe der Töne,” which must be printed, and distributed in the
music room, or recited aloud before it is performed. In the very first
part, I had for task, the construction of a harmonious whole from the
sounds of nature. This, as indeed the whole work, was a difficult, but
a highly attractive problem,” &c.]

[32] The court theatre was closed at this time.

My musical friends in Hannover, and friend _Hausmann_ at the head of
them, had no sooner become informed of my presence in Nenndorf, than
they apprised me of their intention to pay me a visit, and to bring
their instruments with them, so that I had an opportunity of giving the
lovers of music then in Nenndorf a music-party, at which I played my
recently written quartet. Meanwhile my cure was successfully completed,
and I was relieved of my lameness of the knee, chiefly by a powerful
but very painful douche upon the suffering part. Returned to Cassel,
I first of all finished my new symphony, and let my friends hear it
at a rehearsal, and subsequently at a subscription concert. I still
recollect with pleasure the great effect it produced upon all who heard
it. It was afterwards given with great applause at the Gewandhaus
concert in Leipzic, and _Rochlitz_ wrote a very animated notice of the
work in his Musical Journal. None of my symphonies can boast of having
achieved so wide a circulation in almost all the towns of Germany; it
is still a favorite work, and in most permanent concerts is played at
least once every year.

In April 1832, by order of the Prince, the court theatre was closed
“for an indefinite period,” all the singers and comedians, with the
exception of those who had contracts of engagement for a longer period,
having previously received due notice of dismissal. Two singers only,
messieurs _Föppel_ and _Rosner_ (whose wife was the _prima donna_)
could not be comprised in this decision. Together with the orchestra, I
was also summoned to attend; all who had no rescript from the elector
received notice of dismissal, and we others were asked whether we were
disposed to resign our places for an indemnification to be agreed
upon with each individual separately. I, who had first to give my
answer to this proposal on the part of the administration, immediately
declared that I was not disposed to agree to it, but would abide by my
engagement, and, should it become necessary, would maintain my right
before the proper tribunal. The other musicians also at once pronounced
their adhesion to my declaration, and we thus lost one hautboy player
only, whom I had at an early period engaged at Prague by the authority
of the elector, to make up the complement of the orchestra, and who
upon his joining, had unfortunately neglected to have his rescript
made out. The first bassoonist, who was in a similar predicament,
succeeded nevertheless in maintaining his place, being enabled to
produce a letter from me in which I had engaged him in the name and
by the authority of the elector, that the letter would guarantee his
engagement until the rescript was prepared; by this circumstance he
was saved to the orchestra. We others were then not called forward any
more, and all remained upon the old footing.

In the autumn of 1832, my brother _William_ wrote to me from Brunswick
to apprize me that in the ensuing November would be the “goldene
Hochzeit” (the golden wedding) of our parents; and he proposed to me
that all their children should meet in Gandersheim, to congratulate
our parents, and present them with a musical-clock. That it would be
a source of still greater pleasure to my parents, if I combined a
musical entertainment with the festival, I could readily imagine, and
I therefore urged _William Wolff_, the brother of my son-in-law, to
write a poem for me, to set to music, at the performance of which my
wife and I with the piano and violin should represent the orchestra,
my three daughters take the solo parts, and my brothers with their
wives, and my sons-in-law sing the chorus. So soon as I had received
the words in the form which I had suggested, I immediately went to
work, wrote a cheerful polonaise (in the execution of which I gave my
wife and self the opportunity of shewing our skill as virtuosi on our
respective instruments); this I followed up with a general chorus,
after which I brought in the three soli of my daughters, who at the
conclusion sang a trio; and then lastly I added a general chorus
finale. While I was practising this festal cantata with my wife and
children, I sent to my brothers their chorus parts also, for the same
purpose, and we all met at Gandersheim a few days before the fête-day,
which was on the 26th November. As our parents could not accommodate
all of us with bed-rooms, I hired for myself and my numerous company,
the whole accommodation of an inn, and then consulted with my brothers
and sons-in-law as to the best and most effective manner of celebrating
the day. _Wolff_ suggested above all things to hire the handsomest
and largest room in the whole town; to decorate it with festoons of
evergreens and artificial flowers; to display there our presents, and
give our cantata before our parents and the families of our friends.
We were not long in finding a room, for there was but _one_ at all
suitable in the whole place, and that moreover scarcely large enough
to hold all the invited guests. From the neighbouring wood we procured
in abundance the necessary branches and evergreen for the decorations,
and were then all employed for several days together in making the
festoons and in preparing garlands of paper-flowers, as also with
drawing and painting transparencies. When we would get tired of all
this work, I began the rehearsals of the cantata, and could not but
admire the industry of the fair sex among us, who had practised their
husbands so well in the tenor and bass parts of the chorus, although
they were almost utterly unmusical (though gifted with good voices),
that their performances were creditable enough to hear. In this manner
the time passed very quickly till the festival, and we then had the
gratification of seeing our parents deeply moved by our entertainment,
and our presents greatly admired by our Gandersheim friends. Besides a
musical-clock, which in particular was an object of great attraction,
the presents consisted of a very handsome and convenient foot-stool
embroidered for my father by his Brunswick daughter-in-law, and in
numerous specimens of work executed for my mother by the Cassel ladies.
The banquet, which was in part brought from my parents’ house and part
furnished from a restaurant, was a very profuse one, at which the wines
and liquors brought by us brothers met no less with great approval, so
that the festival of the _Spohr_ family went off very satisfactorily,
and was long a topic of conversation in Gandersheim. The general
interest exhibited on the occasion by the townspeople and those of
the neighbourhood was very gratifying, and this among other things
was exhibited by the contributions sent to my mother to entertain the
numerous guests, for she received a complete houseful of provisions,
in the shape of game, pies, pastry, flour, eggs, fruit &c. This gave
the whole affair a complete patriarchal character; and every body
did his or her utmost to evince their friendship for the worthy and
venerable pair, and their respect for the man, who for so many years
had stood by them as the faithful physician with help and with advice,
and who, wherever he could, had always relieved the necessities of the
poor.

After my return I received the command of the Prince to give a
succession of concerts during the winter, in place of the theatrical
performances, which had been suspended since the spring. These concerts
were to take place every Sunday for the benefit of the treasury of
the theatre, and the singers who remained with us were to be employed
therein. The public, however, greatly displeased at this, and that the
receipts from the concerts were thus to be diverted from the relief
fund for the widows of the members of the orchestra, came to the
determination not to subscribe to them, and thus the receipts were
almost null. Few of the concerts only, and that in which the “Weihe
der Töne” was first given, were well attended, but in the others the
house looked very dreary and empty. Meanwhile it would seem that the
Prince and the Countess _Schaumburg_, had found the winter tediously
long with a closed theatre; for towards the spring I received orders to
proceed to Meiningen to engage for the months of March, April, and May,
a company of travelling performers who were there at that time, under
the direction of _Bethmann_ from Berlin. As I expressed the wish to
take my wife with me, the Prince ordered his master of the horse, _von
der Malsburg_, to furnish me with a convenient court carriage from the
electoral stables, and we proceeded to Meiningen with post horses. But
there were other obstacles to be overcome on this mission, besides the
negotiations with _Bethmann_. The latter, for instance, had accepted
an engagement for the whole summer from the court of Meiningen, and
it was necessary to prevail upon the duke to part with the services
of the company earlier than he had intended. To this, however, the
duchess notwithstanding her differences with her brother, on account of
his quarrel with the mother, rendered me her assistance. Shortly after
my return, _Bethmann_ and his company arrived, and for the re-opening
of the new theatre gave the “Freischütz,” with much applause. Miss
_Meisselbach_ pleased especially by her performance of Agatha. The
former director of the theatre, _Feige_, and I were then appointed in
superintendance over Mr. _Bethmann_, with instructions to place at
his disposal, the three singers whose engagements were yet unexpired,
the orchestra, and the whole of the company of the scene-painters
and workmen of the theatre, the extensive wardrobe, decorations, &c.
We now worked out together the order of the repertory, _Feige_ and
_Bethmann_ for the plays and I for the operas, and were soon enabled to
represent once more all the operas that were previously performed on
our stage. At this time I wrote my third double quartet [_E minor_] and
another concertante for two violins, which were soon after published by
_Simrock_ in Bonn as Op. 87 and 88.

In June of the same year another grand musical festival took place
at Halberstadt, which was undertaken by the minister _Augustin_
and his son, as the sixth musical festival of the Elbe, to direct
which concert-master _Frederick Schneider_ of Dessau and myself were
invited. It differed chiefly from the previous ones in the erection of
an enormous tent, or rather of a large booth constructed of planks,
upon the square in front of the cathedral, for the refreshment and
social entertainment of the visitors, as well as of the auditory
and assistant artists, and in which all strangers could assemble at
any hour of the day. The musical performances took place on three
successive days, and began with _Händel’s_ oratorio of “Samson” under
_Schneider’s_ direction. The next morning the objects most worthy of
notice in Halberstadt were visited, particularly the collections of
paintings belonging to the Canon _von Spiegel_ and Dr. _Lucanus_. It
was intended to have given a concert at the theatre, but as it was not
sufficiently spacious to hold the numerous auditory, a second concert
was given simultaneously in the large room of the “Golden Angel,” and
the non-resident virtuosi and singers were divided equally to perform
at both places. The tickets which were distributed admitted to the
rehearsals also, so that each person could hear one of the concerts
at the morning rehearsal, and the other at the evening performance;
and one single piece of music only was given at _both_ concerts, which
was the favorite duet from “Jessonda” between Amazili and Nadori,
sung by Mrs. _Schmidt_ and Mr. _Mantius_, because neither party would
permit this piece to be taken from it by the other.--I conducted at
the concert given in the room at the “Golden Angel,” and played my new
concertante in _H minor_ with concert-master _Müller_ from Brunswick.
On the third day the last concert took place in the forenoon, and under
my direction, upon which occasion I found upon my conductor’s desk a
present of a red velvet coverlet bearing an inscription embroidered
in silver. At this concert were performed _Mozart’s_ symphony in _C
major_, and that of _Beethoven_ in _C minor_; my Lord’s prayer and
a _Te Deum_ by _Schneider_, and I had the satisfaction of observing
that at this musical festival my three compositions met with the most
general applause. At noon a grand banquet in the large tent terminated
the festival, at which the proceeding were of a very noisy character.

We were obliged to devote the remainder of the vacation to a journey
to Marienbad in Bohemia, where it was hoped my wife, who constantly
suffered from nervous debility, would regain some strength from
bathing and drinking the waters, as well as from the enjoyment of the
fresh air from the mountains. Among the visitors at the baths we met
_Raupach_ of Berlin, with whom I took frequent long walks, during which
he related to me many things relating to his approaching theatrical
labours. He was at that time full of a new drama which he was going to
write immediately upon his return home, in which he intended to lash
the ill-natured and hypocrites, and the scene of which he had laid in
China. But he probably never completed it, or perhaps the ill-natured
ones of Berlin found means to prevent its representation, for so far
as I know, no piece of the kind from the pen of _Raupach_ was ever
made public. The society of music at Marienbad, whose director was a
linen manufacturer in the neighbourhood, had much pleased and surprised
me with a very successful performance of _Cherubini’s_ overture to
“Medea,” with which, by way of serenade, he had greeted my arrival, and
for which I the more readily complied with his wish to write a walz for
them _à la Strauss_, to which also my inclination to try every sort of
composition, had long predisposed me. At first, when I had practised
their orchestra in it, the walz pleased me very well; but afterwards I
found it wanting in that freshness and originality which distinguish
most of the walzes of _Strauss_ and _Lanner_. Nevertheless, by the
desire of my publisher _Haslinger_ of Vienna, he brought it out as Op.
89, not only in the original form as an instrumental piece, but also
arranged for two and four hands.

On my return to Cassel I next wrote six four-voice songs for men’s
voices, which _Schuberth_ of Hamburgh published as Op. 90, and began
my fourth quintet in _A minor_, finished in February of the following
year, and which _Simrock_ of Bonn published as Op. 91.

On the 5th April 1834, my children and friends took me by surprise
with an unusually grand fete in celebration of my fiftieth birthday.
For that very evening I had announced an opera and could not at all
understand, why the intendance had suddenly countermanded it, but
this had been solicited by my folks unknown to me. My wife and I
now availed ourselves of the evening thus left at our disposal to
accept an invitation to my son-in-law _Zahn’s_ and we were both not a
little surprised to find the apartments brilliantly lighted up with
candelabra, and ornamented with ingenious transparencies and flowers,
with my bust crowned with a wreath, and a brilliant company assembled
to celebrate the day with music (a cantata composed by _Hauptmann_) and
with speeches.

This was unhappily the last festivity of the kind that my good wife
lived to see. Our stay at Marienbad had not given her any permanent
relief, and as her sufferings returned once more with the commencement
of the winter, it became necessary for her to resume the attempt at
cure in the next vacation. This time we met at Marienbad the brothers
_Bohrer_, and after I had renewed my former acquaintance with these
talented artists, we had frequent quartet parties together, in which
we also prevailed upon the old linen-weaver, who was a good violin
player, to join us. These music-parties enlivened my wife as well,
who benefited so much by the waters that we returned to Cassel with
the mostly lively hope of her ultimate recovery. But soon afterwards
her condition again became worse, and I now felt but little disposed
to proceed with my new oratorio which I had begun in April. Already
the year before, on our return journey through Leipzic, Councillor
_Rochlitz_ had offered me an oratorio of the passion written by him:
“Des Heilands letzte Stunden” [the last moments of the Saviour]
to set to music. Although it had already been once set to music,
under the title “The end of the just,” by _Schicht_, I nevertheless
took it with pleasure, as he assured me that although the previous
composition had been played and with some applause, yet it had not
produced sufficient effect; for which reason he had again remodelled
the text and had made it more suitable to the object proposed. As,
however, I became informed that he had proposed this new text to
_Mendelssohn_ also for composition, before proceeding with the work
I first wrote of the latter, requesting him to inform me whether he
had the intention of composing the oratorio? As he replied in the
negative, and informed me that he himself intended to put a text
together from scripture (“Paulus”), I began my work in the spring
of 1834, which was subsequently interrupted by our journey to the
baths. As I nevertheless remarked that my wife, notwithstanding her
suffering condition, interested herself as much in my present work as
she had done in my previous ones, I soon forgot every thing in the
inspiration with which I devoted myself to it. Although upon my return
home from the rehearsals at the theatre _Dorette_ received me always
with sad looks and anxious observations respecting her health, she
nevertheless evinced again so great an interest in the progress of my
work, and listened with such lively attention to that which when ready
I rehearsed at the St. Cecilia society, that again I always resumed the
continuation of the work with new courage. Frequently nevertheless she
would interrupt me with the melancholy question: “What will become of
our _Theresa_, should I sink under my illness?”--for her anxiety for
_Theresa_ had at that time become her fixed idea--and when I made reply
to her: “A happy wife, as our other children have become,” a radiant
smile overspread her face, for she had also doubtless remarked, that
_Theresa_, in spite of her youth, had already many aspirants for her
favour, and she herself received with no displeasure the attentions
of a member of our St. Cecilia society. In this manner I got to the
end of the first part of my oratorio, and my wife had the pleasure
of seeing the interest and enthusiasm with which it was sung by the
society; but after that her strength quickly declined and she was
obliged to take to her bed. When I saw the thoughtful expression of
face of our physician and family friend Dr. _Bauer_, I called in also
the most reputed physician of our town, Dr. _Harnier_, to consult with
him. But he also shook his head and could give me little hope to save
her. As my daughters _Emilia_ and _Theresa_ took upon them the closest
care of their mother, I was enabled to comply with _Dorette’s_ wish to
continue my work during the day upon the completion of the oratorio,
in which she greatly interested herself, but was obliged to watch by
her bed at night in turn with _Emilia_. I had scarcely got to the third
“number” of the second part, when her malady assumed the form of a
nervous fever, which carried her off, and to the present day I think
with bitter sadness of the moment when I pressed the last kiss upon her
forehead.

My son-in-law _Wolff_ took upon himself all the mournful preparations
for the funeral, for which in my despair I was wholly incompetent,
and by that means I was enabled to leave the town for a week with my
youngest daughter, who was quite beside herself for grief at the death
of her mother, and who moreover had passed the last day by the side of
her sister _Ida_, who was likewise ill. I hired apartments at an inn
at Wilhelmshöhe, and we strove to regain the necessary self-possession
by long and fatiguing wanderings in the neighbouring bare and wintry
woods. When we were at length obliged to return into town we felt the
solitude of our house but the more intensely. It was therefore long
before I could find resolution sufficient to continue the score upon
which I had inscribed a memorandum of the day of my wife’s decease, the
20th November; until at length the disposition to work returned, and I
finished the oratorio by the end of the winter. On Good Friday 1835 I
gave an entire performance of it. The thought that my wife did not live
to witness the completion and performance of the oratorio diminished
greatly the satisfaction I experienced at this most successful of my
works, and I did not attain a full conception of its effect until
in its later performances. An opportunity for a repetition of the
oratorio presented itself the same summer on Whitsunday, on which day
the Prince, contrary to custom, had granted us permission to give a
concert in the church. The theatrical vacation coming soon after this,
I was obliged to seize the opportunity, and comply with the advice of
my physician to proceed to a sea-bathing place, and I selected for the
purpose Zandford, a newly-established and as yet not much frequented
watering-place about 3 miles[33] from Haarlem. Besides _Theresa_,
my sister-in-law, _Minchen Scheidler_, who for some years since the
death of my mother-in-law had resided with us, and who during our
former journeys was accustomed to visit her brother professor _Charles
Scheidler_ at Jena, accompanied me on this journey, and both were
exceedingly pleased with it. We descended the Rhine to Dusseldorf,
where I had projected staying for a few days, as _Mendelssohn_, who had
accepted the situation of director of music in the new theatre built
by _Immermann_, now lived there. The wife of Councillor _von Sybel_,
at whose house I lived during the musical festival, had heard of our
intention to make a short stay in Dusseldorf, and urged me to take up
my lodging in her house, which I did the more readily as I had heard
that _Immermann_ was a visitor in her house and generally spent his
evenings there.

[33] English.

I took my violin with me, and my last works also, among which a
second recently finished concertino, _E major_, Op. 92, published
by _Breitkopf_ and _Härtel_ of Leipzic. We first went to Frankfort,
stopped there one day only at _Speyer’s_ house, and then continued our
journey from Bieberich by the steamboat. At Dusseldorf we were received
at the house of Mrs. _von Sybel_ in a very friendly manner, and
already on the first evening had the pleasure of making _Immermann’s_
acquaintance, who to the special delight of my sister-in-law read to
her his charming “Tulifäntchen.” Of _Mendelssohn_, who was not there,
I heard, that he also was one of the friends of the house, but never
appeared there on those evenings when _Immermann_ came, because with
him, who devoted his whole attention to the spectacle only, he had
disagreed about the opera.

The next morning, when I paid a visit to _Mendelssohn_ and met his
sister there, he played to me the first “numbers” of his oratorio
“Paulus,” with which I was not altogether quite pleased because it was
too much in the style of _Händel_. He and his sister, on the other
hand, appeared greatly pleased with my concertino in _E major_, in
which there occurred a characteristic _staccato_ in one long stroke,
by way of novelty, such as he had never before heard by any other
violinist. Accompanying me then in a very clever manner from the
score, he could not hear this _staccato_ often enough, and repeatedly
requested me to begin with it again, saying the while to his sister:
“See, this is the famous _Sporish staccato_, which no violinist can
play like him!” Thence I went to see _Immermann_, who proposed to
me to pay a visit to _Grabbe_, who at that time, at _Immermann’s_
invitation, was staying at Dusseldorf, and I thus on the same day made
the acquaintance of that strange being. When, upon my entering his
lodging, the little fellow set eyes upon a giant like me, he drew back
timidly into a corner of the room, and the first words he spoke to
me were: “It would be an easy matter for you to throw me out of that
window.” I replied: “Yes, I certainly could, but I am not come here
with that intention.” This comical scene over, _Immermann_ then first
introduced me to the foolish yet interesting creature.

In the house of our hospitable hostess we passed some pleasant days
alternately in _Mendelssohn’s_ and _Immermann’s_ society, and then
resumed our journey on board the Dutch steamer to Cleves, where I
was desirous of visiting my old friend _Thomae_ for a few days. We
found him a widower also; for he, too, had recently lost his wife.
The nut-tree in his garden, of which we had set the nut in 1818 with
such solemnity during our stay with his family, was in full leaf and
flourishing amazingly. _Thomae’s_ children, who were now all grown
up, and of whom the eldest son had now taken his father’s place as
notary, were all in good health, but he himself seemed low-spirited and
ill. Our visit nevertheless afforded him great pleasure, and upon our
departure he presented _Theresa_, as god-daughter of his deceased wife,
with a gold watch, and entreated us to visit him again on our return.
In this manner, after quitting the steamboat at Rotterdam, we arrived
safely at Zandford, by way of the Hague, Amsterdam and Haarlem. When we
had hired apartments at the bath-house and looked out of our windows
upon the sea for the first time, my sister-in-law uttered the ominous
words: “Here I could wish to remain for ever!” After I had arranged
with the physician of the bathing-establishment, who came from Haarlem
daily to visit the bathers, respecting the terms for his attendance
during my bathing cure, and had immediately begun to bathe, I soon went
into the sea with real pleasure, and took great delight in swimming
about in it. Our fellow inmates of the bath-house and guests at the
dinner-table were some puritan families from Elberfeld and Barmen,
whose religious notions I had soon sufficient opportunity to learn by
their conversation at table, but which by no means inspired me with a
wish to make their nearer acquaintance. After dinner we used to take
our walks in the wood, which, beginning immediately behind the downs,
extended almost as far as Haarlem, and in this manner we passed the
fine weather with which we were favoured in the summer of 1835, very
happily in our retirement. This was, however, soon to be interrupted by
an unexpected artistic enjoyment; for the lovers of music of Amsterdam,
who had been informed of my presence in Zandford, invited me and my
fellow travellers to a concert which they had arranged in my honour.
We proceeded therefore by omnibus to Haarlem, and thence by the canal
boat to Amsterdam, where we alighted at the house of Mr. _Tenkate_,
a former acquaintance of mine. In his company we went to the concert
given in the concert room of _Felix Meritis_, at which several of my
compositions were given; first one of my symphonies, then the duet from
“Jessonda,” sung by Mr. _de Vruecht_ of Haarlem and the prima donna
of the German theatre; after which Mr. _Tours_ of Rotterdam played a
violin-concerto of mine, and Mr. _Vruecht_ terminated the concert with
some songs. After we had supped at the house of our host, and were on
the point of going to bed, a serenade was given me, which we listened
to from the balcony of the house.

My sister-in-law, who during the concert had complained of a head-ache,
now probably caught cold, for despite my warning she would stand out
also in the chill night air on the balcony to hear the serenade; and
upon our return to Zandford, upon consulting the bath-physician next
morning, he found that a cutaneous eruption had made its appearance
in the night, which, however, he did not consider dangerous. The
vacation meanwhile was drawing to a close, and the physician was of
opinion that after the invalid had kept her bed for a few days, we
should soon be enabled to set out upon our return journey. But on the
evening of the same day, while I was sitting at the bed-side of my
sister-in-law, as the sun was going down, and speaking with her of our
return home, she requested in a tone of anxious and nervous agitation
to be allowed to get up, and while exerting my utmost strength to
prevent her from rising, she fell back suddenly upon the pillows, and
losing all consciousness, breathed her last. Both _Theresa_ and I,
seized with alarm, called for assistance, upon which a young man, a
medical student whose apartment was contiguous to ours, came in with
all his instruments and immediately proceeded to open a vein. But it
was without success. No blood would flow, the surgeon pronounced her
dead and was now using every effort to bring _Theresa_ to her senses,
who had fainted away with fright. Thus was sadly realised the ominous
desire of my sister-in-law: “Here I could wish to remain for ever!”
What we felt as we followed her a few days afterwards to her last
resting-place, and how sadly this scene resuscitated the mournful
recollection of that we had witnessed the year before in Cassel, I need
not attempt to describe.

We now proceeded with all possible speed on our return journey, and
at the landing-place of the steam-boat near Cleves met our friend
_Thomae_, who, when he learned our new loss, persisted no further
in his desire that we should again stay a few days at his house. As
my leave of absence was moreover expired, we continued our journey
to Cassel without further delay. But I there felt the lonesomeness
of our home yet more keenly, deprived of the one whom we had left
behind, and I therefore began to experience the want of a partner
through life who would also take an interest in my musical labours.
The meetings of our society of St. Cecilia were near at hand, where
at our weekly rehearsals the opportunity might present itself to me
to make unperceived such observations as would perhaps enable me to
select a lady in whom I might hope to find a solace for the remainder
of my life, and one fitted to restore to me my lost happiness. I there
bethought me especially of the sister of my deceased friend _Karl
Pfeiffer_, whose serious tone of mind and warm interest for high-class
music I had observed during her constant punctual attendance for
several years at the concerts of the society, and who, moreover, as I
knew through her brother, had a particular predilection for my music.
Besides this, in my almost daily walks on the Cologne Alley, which
took me past the garden of Chief Councillor _Pfeiffer_ of the court of
appeal, I had for a long time past the opportunity of witnessing at a
distance the happy and unpretentious manner of life of the family. As
at that time (September 1835) the electoral troops were concentrated
for the autumn manœuvres, and had formed a camp in the neighbourhood of
the castle of Wilhelmsthal, whither the Casselers now resorted as their
chief promenade, I bethought me of making a party thither, and through
my daughter _Theresa_ requested the parents _Pfeiffer_ to permit both
their daughters to accompany us.

During this little excursion, I had the opportunity in the course of
conversation to become acquainted with the high and varied intellectual
culture of the two sisters, and so I became fully confirmed in my
resolve to sue for the hand of the eldest sister, _Marianne_, whose
knowledge of music and skill in pianoforte play I had already observed,
when she sometimes gave her assistance in accompaniment at the concerts
of the St. Cecilia society. As I had not the courage to propose for
her by word of mouth, there being more than twenty years difference in
our ages, I put the question to her in writing, and added, in excuse
for my courtship, the assurance that I was yet perfectly free from
the usual infirmities of age. I now awaited the answer with the most
anxious expectancy. To my great joy it proved one of assent, upon which
I hastened to her parents, and in due form asked her in marriage. They
wished every happiness to our union, and we now daily learned to know
each other better. As at my age there was not much time be lost, I
urged that the wedding should take place immediately after the new
year, which after some opposition from the relations and the bride,
was consented to. Our wedding was fixed for the 3rd of January 1836,
and I asked my parents to become witness to my new happiness. Yet, on
the appointed day our wedding nearly failed to take place, for the
required permission of the co-regent Prince had not yet been received,
notwithstanding all the exertions of my friend Mr. _von der Malsburg_,
whose office it was, as marshal of the court, to have it made out.

My father-in-law, who in former years had given private readings in
public law to the Prince, and then did not stand very high in his
favour, had totally lost it since, as a member of the first parliament
(from 1831 to 1832), he had effected by his able and convincing report
to the assembled states a great diminution of the disproportionate
amount of the military expenditure. The Prince bore this doubtless in
mind, and therefore delayed granting his permission for the marriage of
his daughter. Neither did we receive this until my bride had signed a
bond, which was expressly required of her, whereby she waived all claim
to a future pension. As I, in case of my death, was enabled to provide
for my wife by other means, we consented to this requisition; and in
this manner our wedding did yet take place on the day which had been
appointed. The nearest relatives of the family of my parents-in-law,
to the number of three and thirty, together with my own parents, my
daughters and their husbands, were assembled on the occasion. The
marriage ceremony, at the request of my bride, was performed by her
favorite preacher _Asbrand_, whom she knew personally and highly
esteemed.

I now lived again in my former and accustomed domestic manner and felt
unspeakably happy with my wife! As we frequently played together, I
became more and more acquainted with her high sentiment for the noble
in the science of music, and from her great ability for reading at
sight, was enabled in a short time to play with her not only all that I
had previously written for the violin with pianoforte accompaniment,
but many new things in that style of art, and which I had not
previously known, were suggested to me by her. This inspired me with a
great desire to try something for once in duets especially written for
pianoforte and violin. The first I wrote for ourselves was the duet in
_G minor_ (Op. 95 published by _Breitkopf_ of Leipzic). Thus engaged I
frequently observed with great pleasure the lively interest she took
in my works, in the same manner as my departed wife had afforded me
so much happiness and stimulated my labours. When I had written out a
passage, upon playing it with her I could immediately hear its full
effect, which interested and made us both equally happy. Besides the
above I composed at this period six songs for a counter tenor voice,
published by _Simrock_ of Bonn as Op. 94.

When the summer and the season of vacation drew nigh, we resolved
upon a journey to visit our respective relatives. But as there was no
railway at that time, we were obliged as formerly to travel with post
horses, and proceeded by way of Eisenach to Gotha, where we visited a
step-sister of my late wife, who had married a tradesman of the Name
of _Hildt_ of that place. We found them in their flower-garden, spent
a pleasant evening with them, and left the next day for Erfurt. As the
musical amateurs of that place had heard of our coming beforehand, we
were immediately received at the hotel of “The Roman Emperor” by a
deputation, who invited us in a most flattering address to the festive
entertainments which had been prepared for us. At the banquet which
was given on the first day, I was welcomed in a poem composed for the
occasion, after which my health was drunk with an enthusiasm which
afforded great gratification to my wife and daughter. In the evening we
drove to the “Steiger,” the favorite place of resort of the citizens
of Erfurt; but as it shortly afterwards began to rain, we could not
much enjoy the beautifully laid out gardens, and were compelled to
take refuge in the saloon itself. Fortunately they had taken care to
provide a good pianoforte and I could therefore let the company hear
my new duet for violin and piano, and also my concertino in _E sharp_,
both of which I played with my wife. After that, _Theresa_ sang some of
my newest songs, and by some of the ladies and gentlemen of Erfurt my
bass duet from “Faust” and several songs were sung. This improvisated
musical party appeared to please the company greatly, and thus, despite
the rain, we returned to town very satisfied with our day’s pleasure.
Early on the following morning we were taken by surprise with a
serenade performed in our honour by the military-band drawn up on the
square in front of the hotel. It began with the well-known sounds of
one of my symphonies, which was followed by several other pieces, and
lastly by the first finale from “Zemira and Azor.” We then went to see
objects of note in the town, particularly the fine cathedral, upon
entering which we were greeted by the pealing notes of the celebrated
organ, and afterwards, the introduction to the “Last moments of the
Saviour,” as also several other melodies, chiefly from my earlier
oratorios, were executed in a very impressive manner. After we had
partaken of a magnificent repast at the house of Major _von Rommel_,
whose wife was a cousin of Mrs. _Spohr’s_, we drove to the theatre,
where preparations had been made for a grand concert, at which, with a
brilliantly lighted house, the “Weihe der Töne” and my “Lord’s Prayer”
were performed in a very satisfactory manner.

The next morning we continued our journey to Leipzic, and there
again attended several interesting musical parties, which my old
friends _Rochlitz_ and _Weiss_, as also the distinguished pianiste
Mrs. _Vogt_, gave at their houses in our honour, and where I played
some of my more recent quartets, which were as yet unknown to the
Leipzickers, particularly the _Quatuor brillant_ in _A major_, which I
had composed in the previous autumn (Op. 93, published by _Haslinger_
of Vienna). In Dresden, at the hotel of the “Stadt Gotha,” we met the
family _Kleinwächter_ of Prague, father, son and daughter--as also my
friend _Adolph Hesse_, the celebrated organist of Breslau, whom I
had personally known since 1828, when he first visited me in Cassel,
and who entertained a great friendship for me. With him we proceeded
on a preproposed tour through Saxon Switzerland, and performed the
first distance, to the entrance of the Uttewalder Ravine, in the
carriage, which, when we became tired of climbing the steep heights
which offered the chief points of view, always took us again and
carried us conveniently from one magnificent rocky aspect to the other.
We had nevertheless some long and fatiguing pedestrian trips, for
instance that of the ascent of the great Winterberg, when the heat was
very oppressive. From Hirniskretschen, the limit of our journey, we
descended the Elbe to Schandau, partook of a pleasant dinner there,
during which we rallied each other mutually upon our fatigue, which we
endeavoured as much as possible to conceal from the visitors at the
baths, who sat with us at table, and which gave rise to many comical
incidents.

In Dresden we went to a very interesting quartet party at the house of
the court musician _Franz_, a former pupil of mine, for which occasion
it was festively decorated with wreaths and flowers. We there met the
three directors of orchestra _Reissiger_, _Morlachi_ and _Rastrelli_,
and I played one of my double quartets and my newest concertino. As
we purposed leaving Dresden the next morning it was now necessary
to take leave of our amiable fellow travellers _Kleinwächter_ and
_Hesse_, in whose society we had passed so many pleasant hours, and
who during the time of our being together, had really heaped upon us
every demonstration of affection and attention. They parted from us
with tears in their eyes, and we continued our journey through Leipzic
and Halle to Brunswick, where we were desirous of visiting my brothers
_William_ and _Augustus_, and at the same time of assisting at the
musical festival which was then about to be held there. This took
place in the Ægydian church, and opened with _Händel’s_ “Messiah.”
Although that noble work was long since well known to us from previous
performances of it, we were nevertheless again truly charmed by
the grandeur of the choruses, the powerful cast, and _Mozart’s_
instrumentation. On the two following days mixed concerts of vocal and
instrumental music were given; but the pieces performed being for the
most part operatic music, they appeared to us not altogether suited for
the church. At all the grand dinners which took place daily at noon
under the large tent that had been erected on the wall promenade, the
hilarity was generally somewhat tumultuous; and one scene that occurred
on the last day was of a very comical nature.

_Mantius_, the tenor singer of Berlin, who had already sung some songs
with great applause, was at last requested to sing the favorite one
of “Fair Annie.”[34] This song has an apparent termination, which
is followed by a yet more brilliant finale. It so happened that the
auditory always broke out into a loud applause before _Mantius_ had
got to the end. After this had occurred to his great annoyance at
some verses, he at the following verse mounted upon a bench, and at
last even got upon the table, in order at length to obtain a complete
hearing for the brilliant point of the song, but again his efforts
were fruitless! The apparent termination was always too irresistible,
and although _Mantius_ previous to the last verse again implored
his hearers both earnestly and piteously to restrain their applause
until he had really come to the end, one of them nevertheless allowed
himself to be carried away by his feelings and to shout bravo at the
wrong time, and that was quite sufficient for the rest to join in. The
expression of despair with which, though overwhelmed with applause, the
singer now jumped down from the table, was indescribably ludicrous.

[34] “Schön Hannchen.”

Upon our leaving Brunswick we were pressingly invited by Councillor
_Lüder_, who had also been present at the musical festival, to spend
a few days with him at his country seat at Catlenburg, upon our way
back; and this formed a worthy termination to this interesting journey.

On our return to Cassel I found a letter from my former pupil _Gercke_,
director of music at Paderborn, in which we were invited to the
millenium jubilee of St. _Liborius_, which was to take place there
on the 21st July. The celebration of this festival was to commence
on the first day with church solemnities, and on the second with the
production of my oratorio: “Des Heilands letzte Stunden” (The last
moments of the Saviour). As my holidays were not quite expired, we
quickly made up our minds, and in a few days again took our seats in
the travelling carriage, in which this time my sister-in-law _Caroline
Pfeiffer_ filled the fourth place. We slept at Lichtenau and set out
from there so early the next morning, that we arrived at Paderborn
before eight o’clock, but we found nevertheless the town so full, that
we could not be accommodated at either of the two hotels there. The
host of the second hotel seemed however to regret his inability to
accommodate us, and hired for us a couple of rooms in a private house
opposite. But we could there procure two beds only, so that he was
obliged to arrange a sleeping place for me and my wife for the night in
the hotel, and that indeed in a room occupied by a hair-dresser during
the day in the pursuance of his calling, and for the sale of his wares.
We had scarcely entered our unseemly apartment than we received a visit
from the dilettanti of the town, and from the artists who had come to
take part in the musical performances. We were then conducted to the
house of one of their friends, where the best places were given to us
at the windows, to see with more convenience the brilliant procession
which accompanied the relics of St. _Liborius_ in their golden shrine,
to the cathedral. When the immense crowd of the population had somewhat
dispersed we also proceeded to the cathedral, where we admired the
richly decorated and beautiful structure, and heard _Carl Maria von
Weber’s_ mass in _D major_, the too worldly style of which however did
not altogether please us. On the following evening my oratorio was
performed in the church of the Jesuits, brilliantly lighted up, whither
we were accompanied and a passage made for us through the thronged
aisle up to the front places assigned to us on cushioned seats close
to those of the bishop of Paderborn, chief president _Vincke_ and the
commandant of the town. I remarked with pleasure that here also a great
enthusiasm was felt for my oratorio; _Gercke_ directed exceedingly
well, the choruses had been well studied, and among the solo-singers,
who were for the most part dilettanti, the well-known concert singer
Mrs. _Johanna Schmidt_ particularly distinguished herself in the part
of Mary. Scarcely had we retired to rest after this busy day, than
we heard a torch-light serenade under our windows, consisting of
instrumental music and four-part songs. When on the repeated loud calls
on my name I went to the window with the intention of returning thanks,
I found in front of it so high a pile of pasteboard boxes belonging to
my co-occupant of the room as to impede my efforts to open it, and I
was therefore compelled to convey my deferred oral thanks in a written
shape the next morning previous to our leaving.

In this manner we returned to Cassel from this excursion also very
gratified, after which, inspired with improved health and in very
happy domestic circumstances, I began a new period of industrious
composition. Already on the return journey from Dresden I had
constantly thought of a new composition, and sketched out the programme
of it. This was another sonate for me and my wife, which was afterwards
published as a duet for piano and violin “Nachklänge einer Reise nach
Dresden und in die sächsische Schweiz” (Reminiscences of a journey to
Dresden and through Saxon Switzerland) Op. 96, by _Simrock_ of Bonn
and dedicated to our amiable fellow travellers of Prague and Breslau.
In the first theme I endeavoured to describe the love of travel, and
in the second the journey itself, by introducing the winding of the
postillions’ horns, customary in Saxony and the neighbouring part of
Prussia, as the dominant in the scherzo, played by the violin upon
the _G_ string in a horn-like manner as chief theme, worked out with
striking modulations on the pianoforte, and then I depicted in the
trio a fanciful dreaming-like sentiment, such as one so willingly yet
unconsciously gives onesself up to in the carriage! The subsequent
adagio represents a scene in the catholic royal-chapel at Dresden,
which begins with an organ-prelude on the pianoforte alone; after
which the violin plays the intonations of the priest before the altar,
which are followed by the responses of the chorister-boys in the same
tones and modulations as they are given in catholic churches and
that of Dresden. This is followed by a air for _castrato_, in which
the violinist has to imitate the tone and that style of singing. The
last theme of all describes in a rondo the journey through Saxon
Switzerland, in which it endeavours to recal the recollection of the
grand beauties of nature and to represent the merry strains of the
Bohemian music, which one hears resound from almost every rocky glen;
to effect all which in so compressed a limit could of course be but
imperfectly realised.

In the course of the year 1836 I wrote also a number of songs, six
of which, in one book, were published by _Breitkopf & Härtel_ as Op.
101, and among the rest “Sangeslust” (The love of song) given in
_Breitkopf & Härtel’s_ musical album, with four-handed accompaniment;
furthermore a Psalm for chorus and soli with orchestral accompaniment,
and a fantasia in the shape of an overture to _Raupach’s_ mythical
tragedy “Die Tochter der Luft” (“The Daughter of the Air”) which was
shortly afterwards performed at one of our subscription concerts. But
as in this shape it did not altogether please me, I afterwards worked
it up as the first theme of my fifth symphony, which I composed for
the “_concerts spirituels_” at Vienna and which was shortly afterwards
published by _Haslinger_ as Op. 102.[35] In the beginning of the
following year (1837) I wrote my third duet for pianoforte and violin
in _E major_, which was afterwards published by _Paul_ of Dresden as
Op. 112.

[35] Its first performance in Vienna produced there a great sensation,
as several gratifying reports, accompanied by a costly silver cup with
suitable inscription, testify. The Vienna Musical Journal said in a
very enthusiastic review, among other things: “It is again a work, that
speaks its own master’s praise in elegant language: a pure whole, a
thing apart of itself, all of one casting. The introduction, andante
_C sharp_, breathes a cheerful repose which gradually assumes an
impassioned character and prepares the hearer for the transition to the
allegro, _C minor_, which, replete with treasures of harmony bears in
itself the germ of an imposing effect.... The second theme, Larghetto,
_A major_, is a conglomerate of deep feeling, warm fantasy, and of song
replete with sentiment etc.; in this again each note speaks to the
heart with irresistible force.... The scherzo, _C sharp_, opens with a
bold freshness of appeal to life and cheerfulness, the sharp rhythms,
the unceasing and restless competition of the wind and stringed
instruments, the impetuous bursts of tonic power as opposed to the soft
clear flowing cantilene of the alternative,--and, all these effected in
a manner so original and striking as to defy expression in words....
For the _presto_ finale, the poet of sound appears to have husbanded
as much as possible the sum total of his creative powers.... Not one
of the numberless beauties were lost upon the hearers, each theme in
succession received the merited tribute to his mastery; and indeed the
richly fantastic scherzo electreified all so unanimously, that a _da
capo_ was imperatively called for.”...

About this same time I made earnest preparations to carry out an
idea which had long occupied my thought, namely to give a musical
festival, for which Cassel seemed to me in many respects exceedingly
well adapted. My plan of this was as follows, on Whitsunday afternoon
to give _Mendelssohn’s_ oratorio of “Paulus” (St. Paul) in the church
of St. Martin; on Whitmonday evening, with the church lighted up,
to perform my symphony “Die Weihe der Töne” and my oratorio of “Die
letzten Dinge;” on Whittuesday in the forenoon, at the theatre, a
concert of foreign and native singers and virtuosi, and on the same
evening, as was usual on the second festival day, a new opera.

The invitations abroad, the assembling of the musicians, and the
rehearsal of the oratorios by the choral-society had already begun,
when to my application to the Prince for permission I received the
following authoritative decision from his private secretary: “The days
of performance must be changed, as the evening of Whitsunday could not
be granted without disturbing those who had prepared themselves to
receive the holy sacrament on that evening; neither could any concert
be allowed on Whitmonday (on account of the church service and the
opera); nor could any scaffolding be erected in the large church for
the chorus, as it would be unbecoming in the locality of the burial
vault of the electoral family. His highness must await other proposals,
before he could graciously condescend to grant his permission.”

To this I replied that a musical festival in Cassel could alone prove
successful, and the risk of the very considerable expense could alone
be safely incurred if it were permitted, as at other places, and as is
the custom at the musical festivals on the lower Rhine, to take place
in the Whitsuntide holidays, when a great number of strangers would
flock to the town and the lovers of music of the neighbouring places
would not be prevented by business from attending. That if Whitsunday
evening could not be granted, no other two succeeding evenings of that
time could be found for performances in the church. As, furthermore,
no other appropriate place was to be found in Cassel, than the large
church, and that the erection of seats therein could not be allowed,
I found myself compelled to abandon totally the projected musical
festival.

Unpleasant to all parties as was this complete failure of the plan, I
was compelled to abide by it, despite the somewhat considerable expense
I had already incurred, and of which I could reimburse myself but a
very small part only by the re-sale of the procured song-parts to the
choral society. As meanwhile, however, we had industriously practised
_Mendelssohn’s_ oratorio, and become more and more delighted with it,
I proposed to give it on Whitsunday at the concert which had been
permitted for the benefit of the relief fund; but this was refused
also by the Prince, so that we were obliged to content ourselves with
gratifying the lovers of music with two private performances of the
oratorio upon the pianoforte at the society of St. Cecilia.

In the summer of 1837 I received an invitation to go to Prague to
direct the performance of my opera “Der Berg-Geist” (The Spirit of
the Mountain) and for that purpose I thought of proceeding thither
at the commencement of the holidays. But as the permission had not
been received at the treasury of the theatre on the evening before,
I addressed myself to the Prince between the acts of the opera,
and enquired of him, Whether he had any orders for me to execute
upon the journey. In the somewhat indistinct answer I received from
him I understood, it is true, something about my permission not
having been made out; but as I had no time to lose, I found myself
under the necessity of setting out without it at 4 o’clock the next
morning. Seeing _Feige_, the director of the theatre, walking in the
neighbourhood of my house at that early hour, I thought he might have
been sent to ascertain whether I really had the boldness to set out on
my journey without the written permission. On the first day’s journey
indeed, I was not without some uneasiness lest a mounted messenger
might be sent after us to order our return. I therefore hastened as
much as possible at every post-station the putting-to of fresh horses,
and we thus crossed the frontier without molestation. After a journey
of six days we at length reached Prague, where _Marianne_ and _Theresa_
were greatly struck by the beauty of the city and had moreover the
gratification to learn from the theatre bills placarded at the corners
of the streets, that my opera Jessonda was to be given that evening,
in which a foreign singer was to make her debut. That the opera was
a great favorite here was evident from the fact that immediately
after the performance of the overture, the public encored it. The
“Blumenduet” (flower duet) and the duet “Schönes Mädchen” (lovely
maiden) were also encored. But I was very much annoyed at several
omissions, for which however the director of the Prague orchestra was
not to blame, being omissions which were customary in Vienna, from
whence the score had been supplied. The principal singers were very
good, so that a favourable result was also to be anticipated for the
“Berg-Geist.”

On the following morning I was taken by surprise by a visit from a
zealous lover of music, Dr. _Hutzelmann_, who had been informed that I
was fond of swimming, and had for that reason come to take me to the
military school of natation on the Moldau; the officer attached to that
establishment, who accompanied me, soon remarked that I was a practised
swimmer, and proposed a swimming excursion outside the school, in which
he ordered me to be accompanied by two soldiers in a boat. They took my
clothes with them, and after I had swum for about half an hour with the
stream, they assisted me into the boat, in which I dressed myself while
the soldiers rowed us back to the town. While I was swimming near the
boat, our conversation turned more and more upon my compositions, with
which the musical instructor in swimming was almost as well acquainted
as myself. He proposed to me a similar enjoyment every day in the
Moldau, and next morning found him already waiting for me with his boat
near the swimming-school. Meanwhile the rehearsals of the “Berg-Geist”
went on exceedingly well. The director of the orchestra had very
carefully managed the private rehearsals, and studied everything so
well, that in two performances which I myself conducted the opera was
eminently successful. Upon my entering the orchestra I was not only
received by the public in the most enthusiastic manner, but loudly
called for each time at the conclusion of the opera. The singers who
supported the chief characters were madame _Podhorski_ as Alma, Messrs.
_Pöck_ and _Emminger_, as Berg-Geist and Oskar, who sang and performed
exceedingly well, and the opera maintained its place in the repertory
of Prague theatre for a long time. We remained a few days longer in
Prague, and I played at several private parties not only quartets
but also my sonatas and solo-music with my wife’s accompaniment,
who likewise played some quite new composition of _Kittl_ and
_Kleinwächter_ for four hands, in which she displayed great ability
and quickness in reading at sight. The _Kleinwächter_ family made
several excursions with us into the beautiful environs of Prague, by
which means we became intimately acquainted with all the attractions
of that fine city. At length however we were obliged to tear ourselves
away from these enjoyments and resumed our journey. Now also came the
most fatiguing part of our tour, that to Vienna, in which we suffered
exceedingly from the heat and dust, as also from the dirty and wretched
accommodation of the inns where we passed the night. On the fourth
day we arrived half dead at Vienna and put up at the “Erzherzog Carl”
hotel. After I had called upon my former friends, we passed some very
pleasant days there, for which we had to thank my Cassel friends _von
Steuber_, the ambassador from the Elector of Hesse, the Baron _von
Lannoy_, and particularly my Viennese publisher, _Haslinger_. The
latter took us every evening to some new gardens, where _Strauss_ and
_Lanner_ gave their concerts, and where we supped exceedingly well
_à la carte_ at the little tables spread for the entertainment of
the guests. Sometimes, also, we went to the theatre, to see the real
Viennese popular farces, but my female companions were not sufficiently
acquainted with the Viennese dialect, to relish them thoroughly.

After the lapse of a fortnight, in which we participated in all the
amusements of Vienna, we took leave of our kind friends and resumed
our journey towards the beautifully situated Salzburg, which is one
of the finest possible, particularly the first half, the way across
the lake to the Ischl baths. In Salzburg, which as the birth-place of
_Mozart_ was to me sacred ground, we first of all visited his widow,
the present wife of Privy Councillor _von Nissen_, who was very pleased
at our calling upon her, and in whose house we made the acquaintance
of her two sons. In the excursions we made into the neighbourhood in
one of the customary light, one-horse vehicles of the country, we were
most pleased at the celebrated Gollinger waterfall, and with a sliding
trip through the rock-salt-works at Hallein, which was something quite
new for my female fellow travellers. From Salzburg we now went on to
Munich, where I learned to my great surprise, that the Prince of Hesse
had just arrived there. As it was now necessary for me to apologise to
him for my departure from Cassel, I addressed myself for that purpose
to the Marshal of the court, _von der Malsburg_, and at the same time
informed him that I had been requested by the intendant of the Munich
theatre to conduct there the performance of my opera “Jessonda,”
but for which I would first request the Prince’s permission. On the
following morning the Prince sent word to me that it would be very
agreeable to him that I should direct the opera, and in that case he
would prolong his stay to hear it. Adorned with a hat lent to me by
Mr. _von der Malsburg_ and a little bit cut off from the ribbon of
his order, I repaired the next day to the appointed audience, and was
received by the Prince with the following words: “Why, you disappeared
from Cassel all at once.” To which I replied: “I thought I had taken
my leave in the form prescribed,” and as he said nothing further on
the subject, the matter was so far settled for this time. But the
contemplated representation of “Jessonda” did not take place during my
presence in Munich, as the king expected some days after a visit from
the Prince, and had deferred the opera till then, and in the meantime
my leave of absence had expired. We therefore left Munich before. On
our way back we paid a visit to my uncle Professor _Adolphus Hencke_
in Erlangen, where we made the acquaintance of the present Councillor
_Rudolph Wagner_ of Göttingen, and returned to Cassel before the Prince
arrived.

Shortly afterwards, I received a letter from _Hermstedt_, wherein, by
request of the Princess von Sondershausen, he commissioned me to write
some soprano songs for her with pianoforte and clarinet accompaniment.
As this task was much to my liking, I composed in the course of a
few weeks six songs of this kind (Op. 103, published by _Breitkopf &
Härtel_ of Leipzic) which by the express desire of the Princess I
dedicated to her, and for which I received from her the present of a
very costly ring.

I began the year 1838 with the composition of the “Vaterunser” [Lord’s
Prayer] of _Klopstock_ (Op. 104, _Breitkopf & Härtel_, Leipzic) which
I wrote with a double chorus for men’s voices; at first only for
pianoforte accompaniment, and afterwards instrumentated for orchestra,
as it was intended to be performed at the singing festival for the
benefit of the _Mozart_ institution at Frankfort, where though I was
obliged to decline directing in person, it was first performed on the
29th July, and having been well studied, produced, according to the
reports from there, a very solemn and imposing effect.

In the succeeding months I again composed several songs for soprani or
tenori, which appeared as Op. 105, at _Hellmuth’s_ in Halle.

Meanwhile the first public performance of “Paulus” took place at last
on Good Friday in the garrison-church, and we were looking forward
with pleasure to its repetition on Whitsunday, when our good _Theresa_
fell suddenly ill of a malignant nervous fever, which in a short time
brought her blooming life to a close. On the Tuesday before Ascension
Day we had, chiefly at _Theresa’s_ own wish, made a pleasant excursion
to Wilhelmshöhe; there she first complained of indisposition, and on
our return home she was immediately obliged to take to her bed. As Dr.
_Ludwig Pfeiffer_, our then attendant physician and second brother of
my wife, was just then absent from Cassel, we called in once more her
uncle, Dr. _Harnier_, who although no alarming symptoms as yet shewed
themselves, visited the patient several times daily, until after the
lapse of a week, to our great terror he pronounced her complaint to
be nervous fever. This now constantly increased in vehemence, and as
in her fits of delirium she spoke continually of a journey we had
contemplated to Carlsbad, the idea of which had greatly pleased her,
I promised her that she should go thither as soon as she recovered.
This greatly soothed her, but nevertheless did not diminish the fever,
and on Whitsunday morning the blooming maiden of nineteen succumbed
to the fearful malady. The loss of the talented amiable girl plunged
us in such misery that we looked forward with earnest longing to the
approaching theatrical vacation, in order to leave immediately the
mournful surroundings of our home, and seek far away from Cassel some
respite from the constant remembrance of our anguish.

After we had been delayed another eight days in Cassel by the
reiterated retarding of my leave of absence, we were enabled to set
out for Carlsbad on the 23rd June, accompanied by my mother-in-law,
to whom the use of the waters had also been recommended, which was
exceedingly welcome to me, particularly on account of my wife, who had
taken very much to heart the loss of our _Theresa_. No sooner were we
arrived in Carlsbad than we met with _Hesse_ of Breslau, and in our
walks to the springs soon made the acquaintance of other warm lovers
of music, with whom on dull days, when the weather would permit of no
excursions together to the charming environs, we made up small music
parties at our lodgings. As a young lady from Breslau, Miss _Ottilia
Schubert_, sang most charmingly, my wife practised her in my new songs
with clarinet accompaniment, at which a first-rate clarinet player, Mr.
_Seemann_ from Hannover, took the clarinet part; in this manner our
hearers became acquainted with a new style of songs which they had not
known before, and which interested them exceedingly. Somewhat later,
_De Beriot_ also arrived with his sister-in-law _Pauline Garcia_, in
Carlsbad, and the concert which he gave at the theatre afforded us very
great enjoyment. He played with great purity, brilliancy and execution,
but his compositions did not altogether please us, and Miss _Garcia_,
afterwards the so-celebrated Mrs. _Viardot-Garcia_, sang with a voice
of great compass, though not exactly a very fine one, and with great
artistic skill. She especially delighted her hearers with the execution
of her Spanish romances and ballads, in which she accompanied herself
very well on the pianoforte.

 [Here, unfortunately, _Spohr’s_ own narrative of his life closes for
 ever!--To the subsequent encouragements of his relatives to resume it
 he used to reply: “I take no pleasure in writing now; and there are
 sufficient materials for the continuance of the Biography at any time,
 in the diaries and papers of my wife.”--Hereupon, this latter, mindful
 of this express indication of her husband’s, resolved to place notes,
 journals, and letters of every kind, and even memoranda jotted down
 for her sole private use and edification, at the disposal of those
 members of the family who undertook by means of extracts, without any
 pretence to literary skill--in simple, unadorned truthfulness, after
 _Spohr’s_ own example--to carry out the history of his life to the
 end.]

       *       *       *       *       *

After a beneficial use of the waters, _Spohr_ left Carlsbad, and on
his way back stopped at Leipzic, where some musical parties quickly
got up by the families of his acquaintance enabled him to pass some
very agreeable days, and at which he played his favorite quartet in
_A minor_, with his newest concertino, to the great delight of his
hearers. Upon this occasion, it was a source of great pleasure to
him to make the long desired acquaintance of _Robert Schumann_, who
though in other respects exceedingly quiet and reserved, yet evinced
his admiration of _Spohr_ with great warmth, and gratified him by the
performance of several of his interesting fantasias.

_Mendelssohn_ was at the time unfortunately absent, and in his next
letter to _Spohr_ expressed his great regret thereat; and requested him
at the same time to send him his last symphony (No. 5, _C minor_), as
it was intended to perform it at the opening of the approaching season
in the first concert of the Leipzic Gewandhaus. While expressing his
thanks for it beforehand, he says at the same time, in reference to a
song of _Spohr’s_ with which he had just previously become acquainted:
“As I am now on the subject of thanks, I must thank you many times and
with all my heart for the beautiful song in _F sharp_ with clarinet
accompaniment, the “Zwiegesang,” which pleases me exceedingly and has
so completely charmed me with its prettyness, that I both sing and
play it every day. It is not on account of any one particular feature
that I admire it, but for its perfectly natural sweetness as a whole,
and which from beginning to end flows so lightly and gratefully to the
feelings. How often have I sung it with my sisters, and each time with
renewed pleasure! And for that I must now also thank you....”

The first work with which _Spohr_ occupied himself after his return
to Cassel, was a fourth quartet for stringed instruments (_G minor_),
which was published by _Paul_ of Dresden as Op. 106, both in its
original form and as arranged by _Spohr_ himself for the pianoforte
for four hands.--About the same time he received the very unusual
order to make arrangements for a concert at court, which after
frequent and long deliberations, at length took place on the 19th.
September at the palace of Wilhelmshöhe. The instrumental pieces
were performed by the members of the electoral chapel, but the vocal
subjects were at _Spohr’s_ recommendation confided to _Firnhaber_,
a distinguished dilettant professor from Hildesheim, who himself
had a court appointment, and had been for some years tutor to Baron
_Scholley_, stepson to the Prince. With a very fine high tenor voice,
he combined a good musical education, and a lively sentiment for art,
and _Spohr’s_ compositions, with the manifold beauties of which he had
made himself more and more acquainted during his residence in Cassel,
soon inspired him with real enthusiasm. As _Spohr_ also took as much
pleasure in his society as in his charming style of singing, he was a
constant assistant at all music parties, and his presence in Cassel
suggested to _Spohr_ many of his most pleasing and favorite songs,
of which were: the book of songs from Op. 101 to 105; the duet for
soprano and tenor Op. 107, (both published by _Simrock_) and _Franz
Dingelstedt’s_ “Mitternacht” (midnight), which song was published by
itself by _Paul_ of Dresden. Respecting the last, the author of the
words, who had then an appointment at the gymnasium of Fulda, wrote to
_Spohr_ at a subsequent period, expressing the greatest satisfaction:
“Yesterday evening I heard your song ‘Mitternacht’ sung, and still
deeply impressed by it, I hasten to thank you, and to express both my
delight and my pride therein. I will not say that you have entered into
the spirit of _my words_--for what are they after all? No, it is you
who have caught the long, low, solemn whisperings of midnight. For the
first time I regret that I am not sufficiently acquainted with music
to understand and express the enthusiasm of the initiated in matters
of change of tempi, tone &c.; in your art I am a naturalist merely,
but I enjoy this production of it yet more deeply and intimately than
they all; for I feel as a poet in the matter!--Not a word more now of
common-place praise and song of thanksgiving! You have afforded me an
hour of delight, and stirred within me emotions such as alas! I can
feel here but seldom: a reward for my aspirations, an incentive to
future efforts! You, I am sure, understand me!”....

In October 1838 _Spohr_, following the example set by many of the
larger towns of Germany, succeeded at length in carrying out his
reiterated proposition to give a concert at the theatre in aid of the
funds for the erection of the testimonial to the memory of Mozart.
The first part of the concert comprised among other things _Mozart’s_
symphony in _D minor_; and in the second, tableaux vivants, with
appropriate music, from _Mozart’s_ operas, in which at the conclusion,
the last chorus of the requiem resounded, and the bust of _Mozart_,
placed in the foreground of the stage, was crowned by genii with
wreaths of laurel.--A similar festival took place the following spring
in aid of the fund for the memorial to _Beethoven_, but with this
difference, that the programme contained besides the choicest selection
from the works of that honoured maestro, a composition of _Spohr’s_
also, his most recent concertino: “Sonst und Jetzt,” which he had
performed for the first time shortly before at one of the regular
winter concerts, and upon this occasion reproduced at the express
desire of the Prince. The success upon both occasions was extremely
great.

At the commencement of the same year, several other remarkable concerts
took place, and among others, _Ole Bull_ performed twice in the
theatre, to overflowing houses, notwithstanding the increased prices of
admission, and filled the public with astonishment and admiration of
his play. _Spohr_ himself took the warmest interest in the wonderful
play of his colleague in art, and gave a musical party at his own house
in his honour, in which he first played one of his own quartets, but in
the following he resigned the first place to _Ole Bull_, and even took
the second violin. His opinion respecting _Ole Bull’s_ play may here be
given in his own words, when writing to his friend _Speyer_ upon the
subject: “_Ole Bull_ has lately given two concerts at the theatre and
greatly charmed the public. His many-toned strokes and the accurate
certainty of the left hand are remarkable, but like _Paganini_, he
sacrifices too much to the tricks of the art. His tone on the weak
strings is bad, and he can only use the _A_ and _D_ string on the
lower part and _pianissimo_. This gives to his play a great monotony
when he cannot bring in his tricks of art. We found this in two of
_Mozart’s_ quartets, which he played at my house. On the other hand, he
plays with much feeling, but not with a cultivated taste.” With every
acknowledgment made by _Spohr_ of the extraordinary performances of
_Ole Bull_, certain features of charlatanism, so foreign to his own
_simple_ nature, did not escape him, and he frequently related at a
subsequent period with a good-natured smile to his own friends, and to
others, how _Ole Bull_ at a passage which offered him an opportunity
of shining in one of his incomparable _pp_, kept his bow hovering over
the strings for several seconds, so that the public who listened in
breathless silence for the last sound of his constantly decreasing
tones, might believe they still continued dying away in _ppp_.

About this time also, the representation of a small opera: “Der
Matrose,” in the composition of which _Spohr_ had assisted, was
frequently repeated. The text, adopted from the French, was written by
the admired comedian _Birnbaum_, and at his wish set to music by four
composers of this place, _Spohr_, _Hauptmann_, _Baldewein_ (director
of music), and the song-writer and teacher of music _Grenzebach_,
collectively. Besides the overture, _Spohr_ had undertaken the song
of a home-returning mariner, together with the finale and all these
“numbers,” and the whole operetta met with lively approbation from the
public. Unfortunately _Spohr_, at a later period, was no longer in
possession of these, as they remained in the hands of Mr. _Birnbaum_,
for whose benefit the first representation of the opera was intended.
The highly characteristic mariner’s song only appeared some time
afterwards, arranged by himself with four-handed accompaniment for the
pianoforte, and was published by _Paul_ of Dresden.

In April 1839 _Spohr_ received a pressing invitation from England to
direct the performance of his oratorio “Des Heiland’s letzte Stunden”
at the grand musical festival which was to take place in September at
Norwich. After he had succeeded in obtaining the requisite leave of
absence from the Prince, the customary tour during the summer holidays
was this time limited to a shorter excursion, in which he made visits
to his relatives and friends. He next proceeded to Holzminden--where
_Spohr’s_ younger brothers _Augustus_ and _Charles_ resided with their
families, the former, as a fiscal assessor, and the latter a law
official of the duchy of Brunswick. Thence he went on to Gandersheim to
visit his venerable parents, and lastly to Catlenburg, to Councillor
_Lüder_. As a matter of course on this journey he was not without
his violin, and wherever _Spohr_ came he found grateful hearers, who
considered themselves superlatively happy in listening to his play.
More than any of the other pieces that he executed, his newest,
charming composition, a Spanish rondo for pianoforte and violin,
afforded them delight; this soon became one of the most favorite pieces
of music in Cassel also, and remained so up to a very recent period. At
a later period, when it was published by _Mechetti_ in Vienna as Op.
111, there appeared simultaneously a pianoforte arrangement of it for
four hands by _Czerny_, which was certainly most welcome to all who had
not the advantage of hearing the original composition executed by a
distinguished violinist.

Returned to Cassel, _Spohr_ finished his “Historical Symphony in the
style and taste of four different periods” which he had begun before he
set out on his journey. (Theme the first: The period of _Bach-Händel_,
1720. Adagio: _Haydn-Mozart_ 1780. Scherzo: _Beethoven_ period 1810.
Finale: The most modern period 1840) a work, which afforded him not
only during its creation, but also upon the occasions of its closely
following performances in Cassel, the greatest satisfaction. Abroad
also, and first in London, where he sold it to the Philharmonic Society
for the term of one year, and subsequently in Germany, where he was
permitted to make it known after the lapse of that period, it met
with the most lively reception. Many voices were, however, raised in
blame, and of these that of _Schumann_, in his musical journal, was the
severest in tone. On the other hand Baron _Lannoy_, in Vienna, reported
that the work had been received with great favour: _Mendelssohn_ sent
in a most flattering account of its reception at Leipzic; and many
letters full of praise arrived from England.

       *       *       *       *       *

In the beginning of September _Spohr_ set out upon the journey to
England, accompanied by his wife and his friend Mrs. _von Malsburg_,
with whom he had been many years acquainted.[36]

[36] As _Spohr_ himself always considered this English musical festival
(the Norwich festival) and the flattering reception given to him and
his works in that country, as the most brilliant period in his active
life, its description may reasonably find a place here in a somewhat
more detailed form.

After an exceedingly rough passage, which delayed his arrival in London
by six hours, _Spohr_ was very agreeably surprised in the midst of the
confusion incidental to such circumstances, on being addressed by a
gentleman, a stranger to him, exhibiting an order from the custom-house
authorities, to deliver _Spohr’s_ luggage without examination, and
who then took him and his female fellow-travellers speedily and
safely to land in a boat, where a coach was in waiting to take him
to the hospitable house of professor _Edward Taylor_. In the amiable
family-circle of that gentleman and surrounded by the genuine English
usages and comforts which had so many charms for the guests, they soon
found themselves at home, and a few days sufficed to lay the foundation
of a life-long friendship. As their farther journey permitted but a
short stay in London, it was necessary to make the best use of the
time to see the objects most worthy of notice in the metropolis,
which filled the travellers with wonder and admiration. The visit
to Westminster Abbey made a deep impression upon all, and this was
expressed in the letters they sent home:[37] “The very entry into this
majestic structure, which is certainly the finest of all the objects of
note in London, makes an impression so deep and solemn upon the mind,
that we could scarcely repress our emotion; and in reality one seems
to move no longer among things of this world. The tones of a splendid
organ may have contributed to this feeling,--for divine service was
just being performed,--and this was followed by sacred psalmody sung in
double chorus so pure, so sweet and executed with such feeling, that
they seemed like the voices of angels from the realms of bliss. We had
neither of us ever heard any thing like it before. Now again the notes
of the organ pealed forth, and we distinguished harmonies of _Spohr’s_,
and soon recognised the touching sounds of his mass for ten voices;
and then the grand overture to “Des Heilands letzten Stunden” was
splendidly performed by the celebrated organist _Tarle_....”

[37] The extracts given here and subsequently from the letters of
_Spohr’s_ relatives, may find their excuse in the circumstance that he
himself had neither leisure nor inclination to write letters during
this journey, but was greatly pleased when his female companions wrote
home frequently (which of course was always in harmony with his own
sentiments),--and he seldom allowed such a letter to leave without
having expressed his full concurrence with the contents.

But the time pressed for the departure to Norwich, where professor
_Taylor_,[38] the chief director of the whole musical festival,
had already made the necessary preliminary rehearsals of _Spohr’s_
oratorio, and now received the travellers to accompany them to the
mayor of Norwich. On the following morning the mayor took his guests
to hear divine service in the cathedral, which is of immense size and
considered one of the finest in England. In a letter upon the subject
_Spohr’s_ relative thus expresses herself: “Of _such_ a celebration of
divine service, though it lasted nearly three hours, one is not readily
weary; the heavenly music with which it is interspersed in various
ways, I cannot describe, and it is performed with a purity and finish
such as made great impression also on _Spohr_ himself. The congregation
did not sing at all, but always followed in their hymnbooks and
prayer-books, the text of which (all taken from the Bible) I certainly
could understand better than the _sermon_. The choir robed in white,
with their tender tones, made an irresistible impression; words, music,
and execution, all were in such perfect unison, that I could scarcely
imagine a finer worship of the deity in heaven itself. When at the
conclusion we passed through the spacious nave of the magnificent
building with the whole congregation, the masses of people arranged
themselves on either side to permit our passage, and looked at _Spohr_
as something wonderful; many also, requested to be introduced to
_Spohr_, and our kind mayor, who accompanied us and conducted _Spohr_,
was quite happy, and proud of the whole scene. His daughter _Mary_, a
charming maiden of fifteen, is also enthusiastically fond of music and
particularly of _Spohr’s_; she plays herself very nicely on the piano,
and when her father informed us that it would make her exceedingly
happy to play a few notes with _Spohr_, he accompanied her in one of
his favorite sonatas of _Mozart_...”

[38] As a member of the committee he had conducted the correspondence
with _Spohr_ relative to his coming, concerning which the following
remarks appeared in the “Spectator”: “It is highly to the credit of
the great master, that to the question what compensation he required
for the time and exertions required of him during the journey, and
for direction of the oratorio, he simply replied: ‘The committee will
doubtless have no objection to pay my travelling-expenses?’ We are glad
to learn that the modesty of this reply and _Spohr’s_ coming to England
without any further negotiation on the matter with the committee, was
duly recognised by the latter, who thereupon came to the resolution
to present Mr. _Spohr_ with a sum of 100 guineas over and above the
account of his expenses.”

If _Spohr_ had understood the English language, the impression made
upon him by the divine service would perhaps have been greatly
disturbed by the circumstance that the sermon preached upon the
occasion was in a great measure levelled against his oratorio. Already
before his arrival in Norwich, several persons of the puritanical party
had raised their voices against its performance, and endeavoured in
every way both in print and in the pulpit to shew that it was profane
and sinful to make so sacred a subject as the sufferings and death
of Christ, a theme for music. It thus so happened that on the Sunday
morning on which _Spohr_ visited the cathedral a zealous clergyman
considered it his duty to hurl a crushing discourse against his
oratorio: The “_Calvary_,” as it is rendered in English, and at the
conclusion implored his hearers not to surrender their souls for one
day’s pleasure, but to stop away from its performance. The “Monthly
Chronicle” further observes on the subject: “We now see the fanatical
zealot in the pulpit, and sitting right opposite to him the _great
composer_, with ears happily deaf to the _English_ tongue; but with a
demeanour so becoming, with a look so full of pure good will, and with
so much humility and mildness in the features, that his countenance
alone spoke to the heart like a good sermon. Without intending it, we
make a comparison, and cannot for a moment doubt in which of the two
dwelt the _spirit_ of religion, which denoted the true christian!”

On the day after the performance of the oratorio the same journal says:
“This day was to decide the fate of the oratorio “_Calvary_,” and
had the decision been unfavourable the fame of Norwich was for ever
departed. The public mind was therefore on the greatest stretch, for
many persons feared the powerful influence of an adverse clergy. But
a better spirit, a sentiment of right feeling triumphed, and hours
before the opening of the doors the matter was decided. From far and
near the auditory flocked in thousands, evincing a powerful feeling
of excitement, and an enthusiasm which increased continually during
the performance; and beyond all expectation, a complete triumph was
achieved. It may justly be said of this oratorio, that a heavenly
inspiration breathes throughout; more than any other work of modern
times it is one sprung from the genial source of a warm heart, and
cannot be heard with a tearless eye....”--The bishop of Norwich, who
in accordance with his religious bias belonged also to the party of
the opponents of the oratorio, and was therefore on a footing of
reserve with the mayor, was nevertheless desirous to make the personal
acquaintance of his celebrated guest, and sent him repeated notes of
invitation to dine with him; as these however were written in English,
they of necessity were handed to the mayor as interpreter of their
contents, who each time transmitted to him in the name of _Spohr_ a
reply excusing his inability to accept it. At length it was proposed
that he should be introduced to the bishop at one of the concerts, and
to this the mayor assented on the condition that _Spohr_ should promise
him to meet the bishop half way only, and not move a step farther
towards him, when he rose from his distant seat to approach _Spohr_.

This adherence to the stiff formality of English ceremony, which was
a special and prominent feature in the grandiose arrangements of the
mayor, was frequently the source of a variety of ludicrous scenes and
discussions. Thus it was that _Spohr_, on the first day that he had
gone to the rehearsal of his oratorio, sent thence in haste home to
his female fellow travellers, who had remained behind, two gentlemen,
strangers, with the invitation that they also should proceed thither,
to share in the impressive sight which the magnificent St. Andrew’s
Hall had presented to him immediately upon entering it. As may readily
be imagined the ladies acceded to the invitation, and accepted
unhesitatingly the attendance of the “gentlemen as yet unintroduced
to them in the house,” by which they excited the astonishment of every
one there, even to the very domestics; but they had the satisfaction
of witnessing themselves, upon arriving at the hall, the enthusiastic
reception with which the whole assembly greeted _Spohr_ upon his
entering the orchestra. Of this the “Monthly Review” speaks as follows:
“I would have wished all the world had heard the thunders of applause,
the very storm of greetings with which _Spohr_ was received by the
whole orchestra, down to the very boys of the choir. This reception
of the great man, which drew tears of emotion from the eyes of his
wife, must also have deeply moved him.” On the following evening the
first concert was to take place, and _Spohr_ was to perform in it
his concertino “Sonst und Jetzt” (“Then and Now”); but as there were
some difficult passages for the drum in it, he had requested the
attendance of the young drummer-boy at his residence in the forenoon,
in order to give him personally the necessary instructions concerning
his part. When the neat little fellow made his appearance, it was
however found that he understand no language but English, and in this
predicament he was obliged to have recourse to the assistance of the
mayor’s amiable little daughter, who then, although astonished at all
the unusual doings in her father’s house, willingly endeavoured to
explain in English to the strange boy the remarks made by _Spohr_ in
the French language, with many scientific expressions which were quite
unintelligible to herself; but which at length she effected with a
result so accordant with _Spohr’s_ wishes, that for years afterwards
he always recalled to mind with real pleasure the ludicrous but
interesting scenes of that charming effort at intercommunication.

In the evening on which the first of the six monster-concerts took
place in the spacious hall filled with nearly 3000 persons and 500
assistants, a symphony of _Haydn_ and several song pieces were first
given, among which also, the duet from Jessonda: “Schönes Mädchen”:
but then as the “Times” expressed it, “all eyes were turned with
expectancy towards the orchestra in order to greet _Spohr_ upon his
appearance with an enthusiastic applause....” “A deep silence of
suspense and expectancy reigned at the commencement of his concertino,
which he has called “Sonst und Jetzt,” in order to express the opposite
character of the themes which therein denote the different style of
the more ancient and modern compositions.” The opinion upon _Spohr’s_
play then follows in terms of the highest praise, and concludes with
the words: “His instrument speaks as eloquently to the heart as the
finest melody. The accomplished mastery of his bow as of his fingers,
is yet surpassed by the wonderful power of his _mens divinior_. The
concertino, after a short but beautiful prelude, begins with a charming
minuet of the old school, adorned with a whole wealth of harmonies,
which seem to flow of themselves from _Spohr’s_ pen; then follows a
Turkish allegro, replete with fancy and overflowing with the brilliant
lustre of modern execution.”

A letter written home and others describe the succeeding concerts: “The
first sacred concert on Wednesday morning was wonderful; it lasted from
half-past 12 to 4 clock, and comprised in the first part many fine old
things of _Purcell_, _Palästrina_ and others; and in the second and
third parts the magnificent oratorio of _Händel_: “Israel in Egypt;”
in which the choruses were executed with immense power, and the soli
by the English church-singers in the most perfect manner. _Spohr_ was
inexpressibly delighted with it, and said, “English church-singers
only are capable of rendering _Händel’s_ sublime music in all its
grandeur.” A peculiar custom which pleases me greatly is, that every
time a chorus expresses the praise of God, or in any way adverts to God
or Christ, the whole mass of people rise from their seats, and listen
to it _standing_.--The order of the musical pieces in the evening
concert was very much the same as in the previous one. It began with
_Mozart’s_ symphony in _E flat major_, which was followed by twenty
other different subjects, among which were some pieces from operas by
_Mozart_ and _Weber_, and _Spohr’s_ terzet from “Zemira and Azor,”
which is never omitted at any English musical festival. _Spohr_
played with his former pupil _Blagrove_ his charming concertante in
a surpassingly fine manner, and the effect was if possible greater
than yesterday. Our hospitable host, who is exceedingly assiduous
in his attentions, and accompanies _Spohr_ every time on going and
returning, seems also extremely happy to be near him, and to joy in
his high repute. To-day is, in the opinion of everybody, the grand
and most important day, on which _Spohr’s_ oratorio is to be given.
You all know that music, and how grand it is, but no one who was not
present, can picture to himself what it was _here_, heard in such a
place, faultlessly executed by such a mass, and listened to with such
religious attention and enthusiasm. At and after the first part one
remarked several exclamations of delight and wonder, but at the second
a solemn emotion seemed to reign throughout the whole auditory, and
more and more eyes became suffused with tears; not the women only, but
strong men were deeply moved. And such an effect I consider as the
highest and purest praise. They were happy moments for me also when
afterwards crowds of gentlemen and ladies who did not like to intrude
upon _Spohr_, came to me, to congratulate me, and assured me with much
emotion, that this was the most sublime and beautiful thing that was
ever composed, with many other similar expressions. The third part,
which _Spohr_ listened to with us with the greatest delight, comprised
the requiem of _Mozart_ and other pieces of sacred-music by _Mozart_
and _Bach_....”

The public papers gave a detailed account of the deep impression
made by _Spohr’s_ oratorio, and among others the “Norwich Mercury”
said: “The beautiful hall was crowded, nevertheless, even before the
commencement, a breathless silence prevailed; a solemn religious
sentiment reigned throughout the assembly. The inspired composer
raised his staff--the staff descended--and mournful tones, low and
faintly heard like distant wailings felt upon the ear, and made a
powerful impression on the feelings: the brilliant hall seemed as
though changed to a solemn temple--and every worldly thought was in an
instant dissipated.--The overture reveals the character of the whole;
the succeeding introductory chorus of the most agreeable softness and
purity seems to foreshadow a peace momentarily witheld from us by a
characteristic sentiment of sadness. The ensuing recitative of St.
John relates the treason of Judas, and this is immediately followed in
striking contrast by the aria of the betrayer, in which the disorder of
the mind induced by the reproofs of conscience is expressed with great
power and truth by the accompaniment. Now begins the part of Mary, with
a charming air accompanied by the female chorus, and which, replete
with tenderest devotion, appeals to our inmost feelings. In a difficult
but very expressive recitative St. John prepares us for the entry of
St. Peter, who has denied his master, and in the air sung by him,
replete with intensity of expression, the composer in good taste and
with correct judgment expresses the distinction between the reproving
conscience of the erring apostle and the preceding hopeless agony
of spirit in the betrayer. In the succeeding chorus reigns a simple
majesty, a confidant reliance upon the justice of God, the expression
of which is eminently successful.--In the scene which follows, in
which the judgment hall is opened to us and Christ denounced before
Caiphas, the inspiration of the composer has reached its culminating
point: the manifold contending passions--the fiendish excitement of the
populace, the humble resignation in the sorrow of the disciples, the
exalted resignation of the saviour--all these are brought by him with
such painful truthfulness of expression before the mind, that we feel
it impossible to approach in music nearer to reality and truth than
_Spohr_ has succeeded in doing in his treatment of this pre-eminently
tragic moment of the Redeemer’s life.

The second part begins with an introductory funeral march, and a
striking chorus of the disciples expressive of their sympathy with and
lamentations for the fate of their master. The ensuing chorus of the
priests and people, who wildly and savagely taunt the redeemer upon
the cross, is in our opinion almost the most powerful and wonderful
passage in the whole work. The moving recitative of John and Mary is,
moreover, intense in its effect, and their aria full of melody and
grace, close upon which follows the gem of the whole oratorio, the
unsurpassable terzet for two soprani and an alto, “Jesus, himmlische
Liebe” (Jesus, heavenly love), with its sweetly soothing harmonies.
This terzet is a master-piece of the purest finish; _Spohr_ himself
never wrote any thing more beautiful. The solemn earnestness of the
chorus: “Allgütiger Gott,” with the canonic entrata at the words: “In
seiner Todesnoth,” is indeed in conception and form the most original.
In masterly recitatives John prepares us for the concluding scene, and
after the last words of Jesus: “It is fulfilled,” the low sound of
distant thunder is heard, which continues as though warningly during
the fine and truly pious quartet. And now the orchestra seems to burst
all bounds, and to contend in one wild storm, which the powerful hand
of the composer can alone direct and allay. We have already heard
many musical representations of storm and tempest, but as yet nothing
at all like this; and we think that this immense effect is derived
from _Spohr’s_ seizing the powerful phenomena of nature more in their
general grandeur than in their detail. We are struck with awe at the
overpowering effect itself and with wonder at the mind that could so
apply and direct all the resources of art. A recitative with splendid
modulations leads to the short choral passage of the disciples, in
which the divinity of the Redeemer is proclaimed, simply, firmly and
powerfully. The final chorus, a prayer of the disciples full of sorrow
and hopeful faith, is simple, melodious and elevated; a poetical
outpouring in music, which must excite the sympathy of every human
being who has a trusting belief in a future life.--When the last accord
died away in its tragic grandeur, we looked around us--not a breath
was to be heard, deep silence everywhere--all were impressed with
feelings more powerful than they could express. It was a moment of holy
reverential exstacy--no noisy outburst of rapture,--the impression was
too overpowering for earthly utterance,--but it was a lasting one, and
will assuredly never be forgotten.”

The English newspapers spoke also respecting _Spohr’s_ manner of
conducting, and the “Spectator” said on the subject: “It is truly
delightful, wonderful in precision and firmness of tact, and at the
same time accompanied by motions plainly indicative of the effect
proposed.” And again: “We see in _Spohr_, a man who has a clear
comprehension of his object, and knows his work as thoroughly in all
its details as in the whole. At the rehearsal, whenever a note was
missed, he sang it, in whatever harmony it might chance to be, and in
doing so his voice was very melodious.”

The letter previously referred to says further, in reference to
the following days, under the date of September 20th: “Yesterday,
before the commencement of the evening concert, a deputation from the
committee waited upon _Spohr_ with the request to play his concertino
once more; this, however, he decidedly begged to be excused compliance
with, and the more so, as he had already agreed to direct in person
the overture to and air from “Faust,” with which the second part of
the concert began. Immediately he entered the orchestra for that
purpose, he was again greeted with loud and long continued applause,
in which doubtless the audience expressed, besides, their sense of
admiration of his oratorio, which, according to English custom, could
not be applauded at the time of performance. To-day _Händel’s_ splendid
“Messiah” was given for finale, which here also never fails to make
its constant impression. And now at length the grand festival has
terminated with all its pleasures and magnificences! It indeed required
an inspired and corporeal strength of frame such as _Spohr_ fortunately
possesses, to hear in the short space of so few days the ordeal of six
concerts of four and a half hours’ duration each, besides rehearsals
and daily dinner parties, with unimpaired freshness of spirit--not to
speak of all the visits paid him and the strangest requests from far
and near, with which he complied as far as he could. The last day with
its scenes of leavetaking, was also a very trying one to the feelings,
and cost me I must confess, many tears.--The parting from all the kind
people who, although we were strangers to them, had received us with
such great heartiness, was very painful. When next I see you I will
relate many wonderful instances of the amiability of these Englishmen,
and of their admiration of _Spohr_, which even extended itself to me.
But the estimation in which _Spohr_ is held here in England, and the
manner in which this is evinced on all sides is almost incredible”....

After so brilliant a success of _Spohr’s_ oratorio, and after he had
himself witnessed, as the “Spectator” expresses it--“How the orchestra
and singers competed to shew him that England was the country of all
others best fitted for the performance of his oratorio,” nothing could
be more agreeable to him than the proposal made to him during his stay,
to compose especially a new oratorio for the next Norwich musical
festival, which would take place in 1842.

Scarcely was he returned to Cassel than professor _Taylor_ sent him the
English text of “The fall of Babylon,” of his composition, the text
of which, though much to _Spohr’s_ liking, it was necessary first to
have translated into German, as he had not confidence sufficient in his
knowledge of the English language to undertake the composition from the
original text. Though the translation did not so completely succeed
in a truthful rendering of the expressions and rhythm of the English
text, as that this could subsequently be adapted to the composition
without much alteration, it nevertheless sufficed so well for the
desired object that _Spohr_ could proceed at once upon a work which
so greatly interested him. Filled with real inspiration for the task,
he devoted thereto every leisure hour that remained to him from his
numerous professional duties, nor did he rest until he had completed
the whole and satisfied himself with its performance on the pianoforte
at the St. Cecilia festival of 1840, that he had fully succeeded in it.
In pursuance of an understanding with the Norwich committee a public
performance of it with full orchestra was to take place in Cassel
on the ensuing Good Friday of 1841 and a second at Easter 1842, but
with these exceptions the work was to remain unused and in abeyance
until the Norwich festival in the autumn of the latter year, and then
first be made public simultaneously in England and Germany in both
languages.--

But to return to the year 1840, which _Spohr_ entered upon with great
activity in the preparatory studies for the representation of the opera
“The Lovers’ Duel,” which till then had never been performed in Cassel;
for the principal characters of which he had just then found suitable
performers. The first representation took place for the benefit of
the relief fund, and with a very full house brought unusually good
receipts, which however unfortunately were extracted from the treasury
of the theatre on the following night in the most incomprehensible
manner, and despite the well-secured locality in which the money was
deposited. But a very small amount could then be collected to replace
this loss to the relief fund, a circumstance which greatly marred the
satisfaction _Spohr_ had derived from the success of his opera, which
had met with a most gratifying reception from the public.

About this time _Spohr_ received an invitation from Aix-la-Chapelle to
direct the musical festival of the district of the Lower Rhine, which
was to be held there; on which occasion a very pressing solicitation
for his leave of absence was addressed to the Prince on the part of the
committee. This memorial had the desired effect; for shortly afterwards
the Prince sent for _Spohr_, and tendered him of his own accord in the
most friendly manner the leave of absence he had not yet solicited.

As every obstacle was now smoothed away, _Spohr_ set out upon his
journey at the end of May, and was not only received upon his arrival
in Aix-la-Chapelle with serenades of welcome, but also on his putting
up for each night at Frankfort and Cologne on his journey through. In
the splendidly furnished house of the notary _Pascal_, in which Mr.
and Mrs. _Spohr_ found a most hospitable reception, the succeeding
days devoted to the necessary rehearsals passed quickly and agreeably.
On Whitsunday, in the theatre, which had been converted into a
music saloon, _Händel’s_ “Judas Maccabeus” was performed, of which
some epistolary notices spoke as follows: “When _Spohr_ entered the
orchestra to conduct the oratorio he was received with enthusiastic
applause; we had the best places in the first row reserved for us,
exactly opposite to where the very prettily arranged mass of five
hundred and forty-seven co-operators, brilliantly illuminated,
presented a very charming coup d’œil. The music, which had already
greatly pleased us by its splendid effect in the rehearsals, was now
naturally heard to yet greater advantage. The solo singers--Mrs.
_Fischer-Achten_, _Albertazzi_ and _Müller_, Mr. _de Vrucht_ from
Amsterdam and Mr. _Fischer_--good as they were on the whole, did not
make upon us the same impression of _finished_ excellence as did the
choruses, which completely charmed us. In the second concert also, in
which besides _Spohr’s_ “Lord’s Prayer,” the overture to “Medea,” the
_A major_ symphony of _Beethoven_, and _Mozart’s Davidde penitente_,
were performed, _Spohr_ upon every entry and exit was greeted with
unbounded applause, and at the termination a wreath of laurel was
presented to him by two young ladies. In the third concert, of a
mixed character, Mrs. _Fischer-Achten_, and _Albertazzi_, with the
celebrated _Staudigl_ of Vienna, were respectively heard and excited
general admiration. The singing of all three, was each in its kind
what may be termed of the most perfect finish. As worthy finale to the
whole, the repetition of the last magnificent chorus from _Spohr’s_
“Lord’s Prayer” followed, which again drew from the audience the most
enthusiastic bursts of applause....”

As on the following forenoon the brothers _Müller_ of Brunswick gave a
quartet concert in the “Redoutensaal,” _Spohr_ delayed his departure,
at their urgent entreaty, in order to play his third double quartet
with them, which was again also rewarded with its usual rapturous
ovation. In this manner was this grand festival brought to a successful
termination, and the general satisfaction which it had elicited was
but little detracted from by the reproving voice of Mr. _A. Schindler_,
whose _cartes de visites_ made him known as “_ami de Beethoven_,” and
who in previous musical festivals had begun to distinguish himself
by his disputes with _Mendelssohn_ respecting his slow tempi in the
conducting of works of _Beethoven’s_, and now also in a similar manner
found fault with _Spohr_ for his manner of conducting the _A major_
symphony. This--with the exception of the general disapprobation that
it elicited--had no further result than that _Spohr_, at the urgent
and reiterated desire of the committee, replied to _Schindler_ in a
short but decisive letter, but which, couched in _Spohr’s_ usual mild
language, did not disturb the personal understanding of either during
the festival.

After a few week’s return only, to Cassel, and during the theatrical
vacation, _Spohr_ set out upon another journey and proceeded first to
Gandersheim, where all his brothers with their families were assembled,
to pay a last visit to their mother, who was dangerously ill, and who,
in spite of her suffering condition, felt extreme pleasure in seeing
them round her. Although she had not left her room for several weeks,
and had therefore been unable to go up stairs to the upper story of
the house, yet when she heard that _Spohr_ was going to play something
with his wife in the music-room there, she requested to be assisted to
get up there, “to hear her loved son for the last time, and in fancy to
dream away in listening to his tones;” and upon that occasion, seated
in the midst of her children, listened to him with joyful emotion and
interest. As on the days immediately ensuing a visible improvement in
her condition seemed to have taken place _Spohr_, in full hopes of
greeting his mother once more upon his return, continued his journey to
Lübeck with a mind more at rest. But alas! his hopes were not realised,
for before he returned to Gandersheim he received the lamentable
announcement of her death!

From Lübeck _Spohr_ proceeded to Hamburg, where he arrived just
in time to undertake the direction of his opera “Jessonda.” The
performance of the opera, in which Mrs. _Walker_ as Jessonda, and
Mr. _Reichel_ as Dandau, especially distinguished themselves, was in
every respect a great success, and there were immense applause and
loud demonstrations in honour of _Spohr_. As it took place immediately
after the close of the performances of the Italian operas, the
“Hamburger Zeitung” gave a comparative notice in its next issue of
these two different kinds of musical entertainment. It began with
the words: “On Saturday the whole song-loving company of Italian
operatic performers departed in high spirits; on Sunday, _Spohr_ the
German master took the director’s chair in the town theatre to conduct
his splendid “Jessonda” in person. With the _former_, abundance of
noise, merriment, and somewhat of dissension, to-do, and submissive
politeness--but _here_, calm, noble dignity, honest thanks, becoming
demeanour, and permanent merit &c.” Further on it adds: “The lovers of
music in Hamburg celebrated on Sunday a real musical festival in the
theatre; they were not only enabled to express aloud their recognition
of the German master, but they had the opportunity also of drawing a
comparison between ‘Jessonda’ and ‘Lucretia Borgia.’ In ‘Jessonda’
all is tender yearning, and sweet hope, the golden age of fond first
love: in “Lucretia Borgia” Hyena-like cunning in the poison-envenomed
breast; nothing of love’s purity, love’s grosser passion alone; and
in the same relative characteristic proportion is the poesy of the
music.” No one experienced more delight at this new triumph of _Spohr_
than his enthusiastic admirer _Julius Schuberth_, the well-known music
publisher, under whose hospitable roof _Spohr_ and his travelling
companions spent most agreeably the four days of their stay in
Hamburgh, which their kind host strove by every possible means, to
render a series of festive pleasures and of distinguishing attentions.
Among others a brilliant musical party was got up in which _Spohr_
performed some of his quartetts, and was greatly charmed with Miss
_Unna’s_ beautiful execution in his quintet for the pianoforte.

Upon this occasion _Schuberth_ expressed so great a wish to publish
some similar grander pianoforte pieces of _Spohr’s_ composition, that
the latter was induced to write shortly after his return from Hamburg,
his first trio for pianoforte, violin and violincello, and therewith
at the same time fulfilled a wish that had been for years reiterated
by Mrs. _de Malsburg_, the distinguished dilettante pianiste, to whom
he then dedicated the work. This first trio by _Spohr_ (Op. 119) was
welcomed with great satisfaction by the musical world, and numerous
journals far and near expressed their delight and thanks upon its
appearance. The “Leipzic New Musical Journal” speaks of it in the
following terms: “Although the great master has never written any thing
of this kind until now, he nevertheless moves in this new _genre_ with
true artistic consciousness of power, and with genial freedom. The trio
is one of the finest productions of the genius of _Spohr_, in which
together with the greatest possible finish in form, a profusion of
beauties of the first class, and master strokes of genius stand out in
prominent relief. As the gem of the whole the scherzo and its trio must
be mentioned. Here, as though at the stroke of the magician’s wand, a
fairy island of the blessed rises to the imagination,--we are environed
as though by a garden of wonders, a blooming oasis of sound full of
the deep glowing splendour of oriental colouring!... It is moreover
exceedingly remarkable how _Spohr_ here understood the way to unite two
elements which are otherwise strangers and indeed usually antagonistic
to each other: the _humoristic_ and the _impassioned_, _elegiacally
tender_ element of _feeling_....”

At the commencement of the year 1841 _Spohr_ wrote a fantasia for
pianoforte and violin on themes from his opera “Der Alchymist” (The
Alchymist), the charming melodies of which were especially favourable
to such a reconstruction (Op. 117, Vienna, published by _Mechetti_);
an English psalm for soli, with chorus and organ accompaniment (Op.
122, published by _Simrock_ of Bonn); and a song, “Schill,” for
men’s voices, with accompaniment of military music, written for the
inauguration of _Schill’s_ asylum for invalids at Brunswick, and which
was next publicly given by the Casseler glee society at a concert for
charitable purposes, and met with such general approbation that _Spohr_
conceived the idea of sending it to Frankfort and therewith fulfil his
promise of a contribution to the “Collection of small compositions
to the _Mozart_ institution.” Upon the same occasion he replied to a
question which had been put to him concerning a qualified candidate
to the first stipend paid by that institution, by recommending _Jean
Bott_ of Cassel, although but 14 years of age, and wrote of him in the
following terms: “_Bott_ is a virtuose on the violin and pianoforte
and even now displays so remarkable a talent for composition, that I
anticipate for him a brilliant future. He has been a pupil of mine on
the violin for the last six months, and I never yet had one so clever.
_Hauptmann_ (his instructor in composition) says the same of him.”
Supported by such distinguished recommendations the young musician,
after the works which he had sent in had been submitted to the test,
received the desired stipend for one year, followed up his studies
under _Spohr_ and _Hauptmann_ with great zeal, and while yet a boy
received an appointment in the Cassel “Hofkapelle.”

As _Spohr_ had proposed to himself to pass the theatrical vacation
this time in a trip to Switzerland, he determined upon going thither
by the way of Stuttgard and Hechingen, in order to make the personal
acquaintance of the reigning Prince of Hohenzollern-Hechingen, who
at various times had written to him, and shown himself to be an
enthusiastic lover of music by expressing his admiration of _Spohr’s_
“Weihe der Töne” in terms of great praise.

As _Spohr’s_ intended visit at Hechingen was known beforehand he was
welcomed there upon his arrival in the most heartfelt manner. What
took place during their stay here was thus described in a letter
written home: “On the very first evening Kapellmeister _Täglichsbeck_
and Court-Councillor _Schilling_ came to fetch us from Stuttgard, to
drive us about the town, and for the purpose, as they said, of showing
us the new concert-hall. But on our arrival there, to our surprise we
found a numerous company assembled, and we were received by the Prince
in the most gracious and friendly manner.” After a short conversation,
he led _Spohr_ to an elevated platform, upon which the whole orchestra
were assembled, and in front the _head Pastor, Reiners_ (who was also
contrebassist in the orchestra), who then adressed _Spohr_ in a solemn
and very impressive speech of welcome, at the conclusion of which
the hall resounded with such an outburst of enthusiastic greetings,
accompanied by music, that one might have thought it was filled with
thousands of spectators. After this the Prince seated himself near
_Spohr_, and to our great surprise and pleasure his splendid fifth
symphony (_C minor_) fell upon the ear, and was performed throughout
with the greatest finish and inspiration. During its performance the
Prince evinced feelings of delight such as we had never yet witnessed,
he could scarcely control himself; held _Spohr_ constantly by the arm
or hand, and not only whispered to him his admiration at every passage,
but frequently gave expression to his feelings aloud....

When the Prince had ascertained whether _Spohr_ would sup or not in
the dining-room below, he gave orders for a place to be reserved for
him next to _Spohr_, although, as sovereign Prince, he had never yet
partaken of a meal in a tavern. This supper was most remarkable and
amusing: besides the Prince, who sat between me and _Spohr_, and was
very lively, the whole _beau monde_ of Hechingen was assembled to see
_Spohr_, and each ordered supper according to his own fancy. Gentlemen
of the chamber, clergymen, councillors, and their wives, mingled
_pêle mêle_, did and said a thousand humorous things, and evinced an
extraordinary musical enthusiasm. _Spohr_ also was greatly pleased to
have made the acquaintance of this happy, music-mad little spot of
Germany. Music, particularly that of _Spohr_, is everything here, and
ladies and gentlemen know his symphonies and quartets in a manner such
as very few in Cassel know them. If at eleven o’clock at night we had
not risen to depart, in spite of the Prince, he would not have done
so, for he is quite in love with _Spohr_. On the following morning
before eight o’clock some one knocked again at our door, and his serene
highness entered to enquire how we had slept in Hechingen. He then
took us into the palace gardens and into the very pretty little palace
itself, where we were to rehearse our trio for the music party that had
been agreed upon for the evening. When we had played through the first
part, he availed himself of the short pause to fetch his wife also,
that she might share his pleasure, and thus we were saved the already
arranged formalities of a court presentation.... We were invited to
dinner at _Täglichsbeck’s_; but scarcely was the dinner over, than the
Prince came again with two court carriages, in which the whole company
drove to the charming country palace “Lindig,” the beautiful view
round which filled us all, and _Spohr_ especially, with the greatest
delight....” Of the evening court-party that followed, the same letter
says: “In a vaulted saloon built especially for musical performances a
double quartet was first played by _Spohr_ in a manner quite wonderful,
then the Prince sang several songs with much expression, and at last
came our trio. The company, consisting mostly of officials and of but
few musicians, was in raptures of delight, and gave evidence in their
remarks of much musical intelligence. At last supper was served up at
small separate tables each accommodating four persons; at the chief
table _Spohr_ was shewn to a seat next to the Princess, who evinced
great amiability and kindness towards him, while the Prince in the best
of spirits was my neighbour.

Our departure was fixed for the following morning, but the Prince
declaring that he could not yet part with _Spohr_, expressed the
intention of accompanying him one post, and then of dining with us once
more, and “not to appear egotistical, to enjoy the pleasure alone,”
invited a whole party, who were to accompany us in his carriage. Two
gentlemen were sent on in our carriage, to order a dinner for sixteen
persons at the small town of Balingen three leagues distant.... During
the dinner, which consisted of a great number of excellent dishes, and
at which also the champaign, brought from the Prince’s cellars, was not
wanting, the conversation was extremely lively and seasoned with many
witty sallies, but always intermingled with the prominent sentiment
of that musical enthusiasm, in which the Prince is really imbued to a
singular degree.

At length however the long-deferred parting moment arrived! The
cheerful voice grew silent, and a mournful stillness came over all; the
Prince was quite beside himself; he embraced _Spohr_ repeatedly, and
when we had at length taken our seats in the carriage, he was once more
surrounded by the company, and the Prince declared in the name of all
that these days which had brought such happiness to Hechingen should be
commemorated the following year by a festival.”

Carrying with him the most agreable recollections of the time they
had passed there, _Spohr_ and his wife now resumed their journey to
Switzerland, the chief object of which was to enjoy the beauties
of nature; but they were also enabled to combine therewith a visit
to the musical festival which was about to take place at Lucerne.
Although _Spohr_ had declined the invitation which he had received
at Cassel to direct at the festival, it afforded him nevertheless
much pleasure to be present at it among the auditory. On the first
day his oratorio: “Des Heilands letzte Stunden,” was performed in the
fine church of St. Xavier, in which the solo parts were sustained
chiefly by dilettanti, with the exception of that of Mary, by Mrs.
_Stockhausen_, who had already acquired great celebrity in it at the
Norwich festival, and all of whom sang “with truly angelic voices.” The
choruses also, were excellent, and the orchestra only did not quite
satisfy _Spohr’s_ artistic expectations. The oratorio excited here also
general enthusiasm, but the travellers missed here “the deep devotion,
the christian-like comprehension and pious mental resignation,” which
they had remarked in the English auditory of the year before. The
oratorio was followed by a brilliant festal overture by _Lindpaintner_
and another oratorio, the “Christi Himmelfahrt” (the Ascension), by
_Neukomm_, at which the composer was also present, and was greatly
gratified by _Spohr’s_ approbation, who praised the choruses and the
fugues. In the second concert, which was a miscellaneous one, the songs
sung by Mrs. _Stockhausen_ (mother of the recently celebrated baritone)
were the points of attraction; but two distinguished dilletanti, doctor
_Ziegler_ and his sister, from Winterthur, were likewise much applauded
in the duet from “Jessonda.”

On the return journey from Switzerland, _Spohr_ stopped for a few days
in Frankfort, in order to be present at the performance of _Gluck’s_
“Iphigenia in Aulis.” The chief characters, Iphigenia and Agamemnon
were ably represented by Miss _Capitän_ and Mr. _Pischek_, and it
afforded the more pleasure to _Spohr_ to hear the noble simplicity of
this fine music rendered in a satisfactory manner, as his repeated
endeavours to introduce an opera of _Gluck_ into the repertory of the
Cassel theatre had been always unsuccessful, and he could not hope for
any better success for the future.

Scarcely was _Spohr_ returned to Cassel than he began with great zeal
a new work, the plan of which he had conceived upon the journey, while
in view of the magnificent Swiss mountains and lakes. When once more
seated with his wife in the carriage, on his return from the Lucern
musical festival, he told her with the greatest joy, that, inspired
and refreshed with all the beautiful and pleasing impressions made
upon him by nature and art combined,--he felt the strongest impulse to
write a truly grand orchestral work, and if possible in some new and
more extended form of the symphony. On the half-sportive reply which
she made to him: “If the simple symphony does not give sufficient
scope to your creative faculty, then write a double symphony for
two orchestras, in the style of the double quartet,” he seized the
suggestion immediately with much warmth and thereupon sank into a deep
reverie, as though he were already beginning the composition, but soon
after, added: that, exceedingly attractive as the problem was, it could
only be successfully carried out if made subservient to the expression
of a determinate idea--and that two orchestras should have given to
them respectively the expression of a meaning and sentiment in strong
contrast with each other. After long reflection and study; and after
successive rejection of many self-proposed formulæ, he at length, as
though by inspiration, seized the idea: to represent the two principles
of good and evil in the human heart by the two orchestras, and to
give the name to the double symphony of “Irdisches und Göttliches im
Menschenleben” (the earthly and the divine in the life of man). The
first subject should be called “Kinderwelt” (the world of childhood);
the second “Zeit der Leidenschaften” (the age of the passions); the
third “Endlicher Sieg des Göttlichen” (the final victory of the divine
principle); besides which a special explanatory motto was to be given
to each theme. After this manner the plan was conceived with a heart
overflowing with pleasure, and then carried out with real enthusiasm.
As regards the opinion respecting the degree of success with which
he achieved the performance of so extremely difficult a task--that
was of course a matter to be left entirely to the individuality of
the hearers; but in the first performance of the work in Cassel under
his own direction and in the spirit of its composer, it excited the
greatest admiration in an attentively listening auditory; for while
connoisseurs acknowledged the excellence of the music, apart from its
special motive or subject, the feelings of the uninitiated were in a
high degree moved and satisfied. Such is the report of it contained in
one letter out of many written at that time: “Last evening _Spohr’s_
new double symphony for two orchestras took place; the larger and more
numerously filled orchestra represented the evil principle, the small
one, consisting only of eleven solo instruments represented on the
contrary the principle of good. In the subject “The world of childhood”
the latter orchestra maintains the superiority in a marked and
especial manner; sweet, innocent melodies bring back to us in the most
enchanting manner the joys of childhood--its pretty sports, and wiles
seem to rise before our vision, and we feel ourselves wholly wrapped
in the bright dreams of the past; but the tones of the great orchestra
remind us sorrowfully of the reality, and of the struggles of an
earthly life scarcely yet begun. This subject, although gaiety is the
prominent characteristic, yet speaks to us with a peculiar purity and
tenderness of sentiment; and of a surety only a soul as pure and loving
as that of our _Spohr_ could so depict in tones the tenderness of the
world of childhood.

The second subject: “The victory of the passions,” begins with a very
beautiful soft duet between hautboy and clarinet (depicting the first
awakening of love), then soon the two orchestras mingle, as it were,
wildly and stormily, a true picture of the human heart in the contests
of this life; now here now there, the small orchestra is carried away
with it, but even then it does not wholly cease to intervene as the
good genius with moving and at times warning tones of tenderness. This
subject, which is very rich in ideas and harmonies, appeared most to
carry away the mass of the public, but the deepest impression made
upon every sensitive heart was that made by the third theme: “Eventual
victory of the divine principle.” In this, the warning voice of the
small orchestra becomes continually more impressive, the earthly
passions for the most part become gradually subdued, one almost seems
to feel how their force is broken, and then again at frequent intervals
they seem to rally, until the solemn moment, in which after a general
pause both orchestras at length, in solemn unison of accords announce
the victory achieved by the good genius in all its power. From that
point nothing but pious, pleasing sounds, as though from the realms
of bliss, are heard, now alternately and now from both orchestras in
unison, leading as it were the strangely-moved feelings of the auditory
to the soft consolatory finale.”

Notices of a similar character--sometimes estimating the work from a
purely human, at others from an artistic point of view were received
from all sides after the appearance of the symphony, published as Op.
121, by _Schuberth_ of Hamburgh; and then it soon became extensively
circulated in the larger towns of Germany and England. This sufficed
to afford _Spohr_ the personal satisfaction, that in whichever way his
intentions were considered, they were upon the whole rightly understood
and estimated.

In November of the same year the Cassel musical world was thrown into
a state of joyful excitement by the arrival of _Lisst_, who had gained
the most enthusiastic applause in two concerts, which he gave in the
theatre. Previous to his appearance in public, the more restricted
circle of the lovers of music, had been greatly gratified by hearing
him execute _Spohr’s_ quintet for the pianoforte at a music party given
by _Spohr_ for his entertainment, at which he played also several of
his own compositions in an insurpassibly masterly style. _Spohr_ took
the liveliest interest in the performances of his colleague in art, but
he paid him the tribute of his highest admiration for his wonderful
playing _at sight_; and in after years, as a proof of _Lisst’s_ eminent
talent in this respect also, he would cheerfully relate, how at a
private soiree at Mrs. _von der Malsburg’s_, accompanied by _Spohr_ on
the violin, _Lisst_ played his “Reisesonata” and his only just then
published fantasia from the “Alchymist,” which was therefore _wholly
unknown_ to _Lisst_, but which to the great astonishment of all the
auditory he played at sight with the most perfect finish.

On the 5th. December of this year the fiftieth anniversary of the death
of _Mozart_ was everywhere solemnized by the lovers of music; but as
no public festival could be held in Cassel, _Spohr_ got up a private
performance of the society of St. Cecilia for the benefit of the poor,
which was of a most solemn and impressive character. In the centre
of the saloon the bust of _Mozart_, crowned with a laurel wreath,
surmounted an altar hung with black drapery; on one side of the altar
was assembled the numerous auditory, and on the other the singers in
deep mourning. The “_Ave verum_” of _Mozart_ was first sung; then a
short oration _in memoriam_ followed, and the conclusion was formed by
the swan-song of the departed master, his immortal requiem.

In the beginning of the year 1842, _Spohr_ composed six four
part-songs, for soprano, alto, tenor and bass (Op. 120, published by
_Appel_ in Cassel), then his second trio for pianoforte, violin and
violincello, which in the course of the year was followed by a third.
These were published by _J. Schuberth_ as Op. 123 and 124.

As during the winter _Spohr_ had felt returning symptoms of his former
liver-complaint, he availed himself this time of the summer vacation
to go to Carlsbad, to drink the waters; but on the journey thither, at
the pressing invitation of Mr. _von Holleben_, an acquaintance of his
youth, and now, grand-master of the hunt at Rudolstadt, he paid him
a visit. In the amiable family circle of his early friend the hours
passed quickly and pleasantly in the retrospect of their youthful
associations, and in the interchange of narratives and incidents of
their later life; but amid all these, music was not wanting; and to
hear it each time, an increased number of the lovers of music were
invited. At these parties _Spohr_ willingly played several of his
newest compositions, and more especially afforded universal pleasure
with the two trios, in which his wife took the pianoforte part. Upon
these occasions he had more especially an enthusiastic auditress in the
Princess von Bückeburg, who then resided in Rudolstadt, and who was
very desirous of giving a fête at her own house in honour _Spohr_, had
not Mrs. _von Holleben_, as she afterwards related with much triumph,
following the example of the mayor of Norwich (whose comical proceeding
towards the bishop of that place _Spohr_ had previously narrated with
much humour), declined in the name of her guests, although without
previously enquiring of them, every invitation that they received.

During the succeeding month’s stay in Carlsbad, _Spohr_ followed up
most conscientiously the prescribed use of the baths and waters, and,
besides the enjoined morning walks of several hours’ duration, he after
dinner made more distant excursions into the beautiful and by him
already previously so much admired environs. Between whiles, however,
he managed to devote many hours to the study and practice of his noble
art, playing assiduously with his wife, and charming the circle of his
more immediate acquaintance with his play. He was forbidden, while
taking the waters, to indulge even in a slight degree his constant
impulse to the composition of something new; nevertheless during this
time he composed a song: “Tears,” by _Chamisso_, which afterwards
appeared in the “Album of Song” of _Rudolf Hirsch_ (published by
_Bösenberg_ of Leipzic).

On his return to Cassel, _Spohr_ was painfully moved by the
intelligence of the approaching departure of his friend _Hauptmann_,
who had accepted the proffered appointment of Cantor at the _Thomas
School_ in Leipzic. However heartily he might have rejoiced to see
_Hauptmann_ exchange his place in the court orchestra of Cassel for
one so much more befitting and worthy of him, yet for the moment
the sentiment of sorrow was the prominent feeling, he that would
thenceforth be bereft of the society and intercourse of a man, who
through a period of twenty years had stood so near to him both as
friend and as colleague in art. As _Hauptmann_ was an active and
highly esteemed member of the St. Cecilia society, upon _Spohr’s_
proposition, a farewell festival in his honour was given, at which the
musical part of the entertainment consisted chiefly of _Hauptmann’s_
compositions. But as _Spohr_ was desirous of contributing at least one
musical piece having especial reference to the occasion, he made choice
of the pretty cantata composed by him for the “Golden Wedding” of his
parents, which, with altogether new and appropriate words, inspired all
hearers with the more interest as _Spohr_ took upon himself the violin
obligato part that formed the accompaniment to the pianoforte.

Towards the end of the year _Spohr_ wrote a “concert overture in
the serious style” (Op. 121, at _Siegel’s_, in Leipzic), which was
performed at the first of the Casseler subscription concerts, and
shortly afterwards at the Gewandhaus concert in Leipzic, and at both
places produced the earnest and grandiose effect which the composer
had in view. He next, at the repeated solicitations of publisher and
friends, tried his hand at a species of composition which he had never
till then tried, a sonata for the _pianoforte alone_, which after
having accomplished to his satisfaction, he resolved to dedicate to
his friend _Mendelssohn_. The latter having been made acquainted with
it, wrote to him immediately and accompanied the expression of his
thanks “for the high and distinguishing honour” with the following
words: “If I could but express to you, how deeply I feel what it is to
be thus able to call one of your works one’s own particular property,
and how my heart joys not alone in the distinction conferred, but
equally in your friendly thought of me, and your constant desire for
my welfare. A thousand thanks to you for it, dear Mr. Kapellmeister,
and rest assured that to the best of my ability I will endeavour to
make my now obstinate fingers bring out the beauties of the sonata
properly. But that is again only a pleasure that I shall be doing
myself, and I should so like to render you one in return for it,”
&c. The “obstinate fingers” must nevertheless have soon succumbed to
the will of the master, for when upon a subsequent visit to Leipzic,
_Spohr_ had the gratification of hearing him play the sonata, it was
everything he could have wished, and he recognised in such an execution
the ideal which when composing it his fancy had conceived. Shortly
afterwards, when it was brought out by _Mechetti_ of Vienna, as Op.
125, and thereby became more widely known, _Spohr_ received many
gratifying notices of it from all sides. But he was especially taken
by surprise on the receipt of a letter from Hungary, enthusiastic in
admiration of the sonata, from the to him wholly unknown director of
the choir, _Seyler_, of the Cathedral of Gran, in which he says among
other things: “Times innumerable, in the hours when my duties permit
me some relaxation, do I charm myself at the piano with that sonata
you dedicated to Mr. _Mendelssohn-Bartholdy_. Carried away by the
magic of its tones I now take up the pen, in behalf of all pianists
of feeling who may not always have the opportunity to be enchanted by
your greater musical productions, to render you the warmest thanks
for this beautiful work.... I would moreover earnestly entreat you to
let me know whether we pianists may encourage the hope of having such
another composition, with which with two hands alone, we may discourse
with the spirit of the world-famed German hero of musical science?”
&c. Although this and many other similar testimonies might have fully
removed _Spohr’s_ former doubts as to whether he could contribute
anything sufficiently satisfactory as a composer for the pianoforte,
yet as may be readily imagined it was more in his interest to give his
sole attention to the violin as concerted with pianoforte music; and
his next works were six duets for pianoforte and violin (Op. 127),
but which he could not finish and send in to his publisher _Julius
Schuberth_ of Hamburgh, who awaited them with much impatience, till
after the lapse of several months, as just at that time he was more
than usually occupied in perfecting his orchestra in the study of
several larger works. He first of all wished to give _Bach’s_ “Passion”
on the coming Good Friday, and although, with the same intention he had
previously rehearsed it several times with all the musical strength he
could enlist in Cassel, yet years had since then elapsed; and it cost
him a very great exertion of his patience and perseverance to bring his
orchestra and singers up to such a pitch of excellence as to ensure the
public performance of that extremely difficult music in a creditable
and worthy manner.

After _Spohr_ had toiled for long months in practising the choruses and
the long-wished-for day of performance was drawing nearer and nearer,
the required permission of the Prince was suddenly refused, without any
reason being assigned for it; and it was not until a second application
had been sent in, accompanied (to meet all eventualities) by a
certificate of the clergyman, that he considered “the music selected
for performance perfectly fitted for the church and for the day,” that
the desired permission was granted; and that to the great satisfaction
of _Spohr_ and every lover of music in Cassel, it could be performed on
the day appointed. But these obstacles repeatedly thrown in the way of
its production were very nearly the cause of _Spohr’s_ total departure
from Cassel, for at that very time he again received from Prague a very
advantageous offer of appointment there, respecting which he wrote as
follows to his friend _Hauptmann_: “I am so weary of all the vexations
I meet with here that even at my time of life I could almost make up
my mind to leave this place, were not my wife so much attached to
her family, and that she would be unhappy away from her friends. The
opportunity now presents itself in an offer from the states of Bohemia
of the post of director of the Prague conservatory of music vacant
by the death of _Dionys Weber_, as an indemnifaction for the salary
I should throw up here. Such a field for exertion and a residence
in musical Prague would suit me well. But under the circumstances
adverted to above I must of course decline it....” In _Hauptmann’s_
very explicit reply to this he says among other things: “By _Spohr’s_
leaving under the pressure of such existing circumstances, Cassel will
become a desert as regards music,” but he nevertheless advises him to
leave it without hesitation, and “will not yet relinquish the thought
to see him move away from good, beautiful but _oppressed_ Cassel, to
majestic Prague.”

But as _Spohr_ in the meanwhile had come to a decision, and of his own
impulse allowed his kindly consideration for his wife and her parents
to prevail with him, their daily intercourse having become with him
also a pleasurable habit, he wrote back in his reply the following few
but characteristic words: “The interest and sympathy, which breathes
throughout your kind letter was most gratifying to me also in regard
to the Prague business. But I had already made up my mind in the
interim, and I am glad that my answer declining the offer had been sent
to Prague, before my father-in-law knew anything about it, or with
tears in his eyes could have to thank me for my decision....”--In this
manner _Spohr_ remained in Cassel, to which he had become attached as
to a second home, and he continued to discharge his duties with his
customary zeal.

He now again gave his attention to the study of a difficult work:
“The flying Dutchman” of _Richard Wagner_, which _Spohr_ proposed to
himself to bring out as a festival opera for Whitmonday, having heard
much in its praise from Dresden, and upon perusal of the libretto,
which had been sent to him, had found the subject so satisfactory
in every respect, that he pronounced it a little master-piece, and
regretted, “not to have met with a similar and as good a one to set to
music, ten years before.” When at the rehearsals he had become more
closely acquainted with the opera, he wrote to _Lüder_ respecting it,
and invited him to the approaching performance in Cassel: “This work,
although somewhat approaching the new-romantic music _à la Berlioz_,
and although it has given me immense work on account of its extreme
difficulty, interests me nevertheless in the highest degree, for it is
written apparently with true inspiration--and unlike so much of the
modern opera music, does not display in every bar the striving after
effect, or effort to please. There is a great deal of the fanciful
therein; a noble conception throughout, it is well written for the
singer; enormously difficult it is true, and somewhat overcharged in
the instrumentation, but full of new effects, and will assuredly,
when it once comes to be performed in the greater space of a theatre
be thoroughly clear and intelligible. The theatre rehearsals begin at
the end of this week, and I am exceedingly desirous to see how the
fantastic subject and the still more fantastic music will come off _en
scène_. I think I am so far correct in my judgment, when I consider
_Wagner_ as the most gifted of all our _dramatic_ composers of the
present time. In this work at least his aspirations are noble, and
that pleases me at a time when all depends upon creating a sensation,
or in effecting the merest ear-tickling,” &c. Notwithstanding the
apparent almost insurmountable difficulties, _Spohr_ succeeded in
giving one performance, which left nothing to be desired, and the work
was most favourably received by the public. In full satisfaction to the
author he felt impelled to write to _Wagner_ to make him acquainted
with it; upon which the latter in the fulness of his joy replied: “My
very esteemed sir and master, I was really obliged to recover myself
somewhat from the joy--from the rapture I may say--which your extremely
kind letter afforded me, before I could undertake to write, and
express to you the gratitude of my heart.... In order to enable you to
understand the extraordinary emotion your intelligence produced in me,
I must first calmly explain what were my expectations in regard to the
success of this opera. From the unusually great difficulties which it
presented I could expect but little from it, however good the musical
and dramatic strength with which it might be put upon the stage, unless
there was a man at their head who, endowed with peculiar energetic
capacity and goodwill, would espouse my interests with predilection and
in the face of every obstacle. That you, my highly-esteemed master,
possessed beyond all others the qualifications for so energetic a
direction, I well knew,--but whether you would consider my work
sufficiently worthy of your attention to take so decided an interest in
it, that was certainly the very natural doubt that made me despair more
and more, the nearer the day of its announced performance approached;
so that I confess I had not the courage to go to Cassel, to become
personally a witness to my shame and to the realisation of all my
fears. But I now see indeed that a lucky star has risen over me, since
I have gained the sympathy of a man from whom an indulgent notice only
would have been sufficient fame for me:--but to see him take the most
decisive and crowning measures in my behalf, is a piece of good fortune
which assuredly distinguishes me above many, and which really for
the first time fills me with a sentiment of pride, such as hitherto
no applause of the public could have awakened in me” &c. With equal
gratitude and kindliness _Wagner_ acknowledged the correctness of the
omissions made by _Spohr_ in the opera, in the which he “recognised but
further proof of the true interest he had evinced for him,” and this he
reiterated in all his subsequent letters with the warmest expressions
of attachment and esteem.

With the commencement of the theatrical vacation, _Spohr_ made
preparations for the journey to London, where he hoped to receive
satisfaction for the disappointment of the refusal of leave absence
in the previous autumn, to proceed to Norwich to conduct the
much-talked-of performance of his oratorio, “The fall of Babylon.” For
months previously the committee had applied to that effect through the
embassy at Cassel, to the Prince, but had met with a summary refusal,
upon which _Spohr_ received several letters from England, expressing
how much they felt aggrieved by it, and lord _Aberdeen_ especially,
who had authorised the application to the Prince through the medium of
the English embassy. Upon this the committee met in Norwich and sent a
deputation to London to the duke of Cambridge, who expressed himself
willing to write personally to the Prince in the most pressing terms.
But without avail; after a lapse of two months his application was
refused also, and both he and the whole royal family were not a little
hurt by it. In Norwich, meanwhile, it was thought that every means had
not yet been exhausted, and to _Spohr’s_ extreme surprise he suddenly
received an enormous petition signed by a considerable number of the
inhabitants of Norwich, beseeching the Prince in the interests of that
city to allow _Spohr_ to direct his oratorio there. Although he himself
had now little hope of a favourable issue to this prayer, he was
nevertheless greatly moved by the receipt of so imposing a document,
and awaited a reply with the greatest anxiety. This however did not
come; but the Hessian minister for foreign affairs, _von Steuber_,
wrote the following letter to the wife of Mr. _von der Malsburg_, grand
marshall of the court, by whom the petition had been presented: “I
have to announce to your Excellency that I delivered the petition in
question, and urged personally all the circumstances detailed therein,
but as you yourself feared, there is no hope of a successful result”
&c.--

Although _Spohr_ could not personally share in the triumph which this
new oratorio achieved for him in England, he nevertheless received
almost daily detailed epistolary accounts of the success of the
festival, and at length also a whole box full of newspapers of every
shade of politics, which seemed almost to vie with each other in
expressions of admiration of his work. Of these, some few of the most
conspicuous and characteristic in style of comment may here be cited:
“The Times” says among other things: “The gem of the festival was
_Spohr’s_ oratorio. The text is written with especial regard to the
nature and the character of an oratorio, and the subject which _Spohr_
has illustrated by the exercise of his talent is especially favourable
to its exhibition. Three nations are represented: the captive Hebrews,
the luxurious Babylonians and the Persians in their pride of conquest:
these furnish materials for the most varied musical treatment by the
composer, of which he has availed himself in the most admirable manner,
and thoroughly understood how to adhere throughout the music to the
identity and nationality of the different nations. His peculiar genius
for the invention of beautiful melodies, and his power to enrich these
with appropriate harmonies is also preminently conspicuous in this
splendid work.” After a detailed analysis of the separate “numbers” it
is further said: “The general opinion of the oratorio is this: It is
a master piece of art, worthy to rank with “Die letzten Dingen” and
“Des Heilands letzten Stunden.” Emphatic as this praise may be, it is
nevertheless just. Though from the same hand, the work is nevertheless
essentially different from these. The former excite feelings of
deep devotion and christian piety, in the latter we distinguish the
character of the deity more in its majesty and omnipotence; Jehovah
displays himself to us in acts of power by dooming the ungodly to
punishment. The work fulfils all the conditions of a true oratorio,
and its performance was a triumph of English art. One thing only was
deeply and generally deplored, that _Spohr_ was prevented from being
present at this triumph.” In the Morning Chronicle, after similar
enthusiastic expressions of opinion, follows: “In a word, the music is
characterised by the whole power and peculiarity of _Spohr’s_ genius,
and we may boldly assert that it is the grandest work written since
the days of _Händel_.”--The immense crowd that pressed forward to the
hall to witness the performance is adverted to by all the papers, and
the Morning Herald especially, speaks of it thus: “Although to hear
_Spohr’s_ oratorio an unusually numerous auditory was to be expected,
yet no one could have formed an idea of what actually occurred. From an
early hour in the morning carriages arrived in numbers, filled with the
rank and beauty of the county.... The whole interior of the building
was immediately filled; where a resting-place could be found for one
foot only, fool-hardy individuals were to be seen located in the most
dangerous situations, and every one seemed determined to endure the
greatest inconvenience rather than forego the pleasure of hearing
_Spohr’s_ oratorio. Many persons clambered up to the roof, and from
thence in at the window, but numbers were compelled to remain outside,
and content themselves with looking down from their dizzy height upon
the crowds below. This is no exaggeration, but strictly true; and
that such a degree of interest should have been evinced for a new
musical work, is certainly an event that stands alone in the history
of music,” &c. While _Spohr_ found at home a cheering distraction in
these gratifying accounts, his admirers and friends in England were
considering how to make him some compensation for his loss, and before
the close of the year he received an invitation to London during his
next vacation, to conduct his oratorio.

Upon _Spohr’s_ arrival in London in June 1843, Professor _Taylor_,
who had conducted his oratorio at Norwich, in his stead, and who had
discharged that difficult task most creditably, had so far made
all the preliminary preparations that after a few rehearsals, its
performance could take place at the Hanover Square Rooms to his full
satisfaction. The public also gave vent to their enthusiasm, with the
most reiterated and demonstrative applause, and at the conclusion
greeted him with three cheers. Nevertheless all those who had been
present at the festival in the fine St. Andrew’s Hall at Norwich, were
not by any means satisfied that _Spohr_ had not been permitted to hear
his work under equally favourable circumstances, in all its grandeur,
and he received the invitation to direct a second grander performance,
which the Sacred Harmonic Society were desirous of giving with their
chorus of five hundred voices in the large concert-room of Exeter
Hall. But as he had proposed to himself to devote the yet remaining
week’s leave of absence to a journey to Wales, of the scenery of
which he had heard so much spoken in praise, and as the time moreover
appeared to him much too short for a careful study of his oratorio, he
returned an answer declining the invitation. Upon subsequent pressing
solicitation, nevertheless, and repeated conferences, he at length
yielded, and it was then agreed that the requisite rehearsals should
be made during _Spohr’s_ absence, so that he would have nothing more
to do than to take upon himself the direction of the performance, and
meanwhile he could proceed undisturbed upon his projected journey.
Highly necessary to him, also, was such a refreshing change of scene
after the almost overwhelming fatigues of the musical entertainments
and dinner-parties of the preceding weeks, at the greater part of
which he himself took an active share in the performances. At the
last concert of the Philharmonic Society, in which he directed the
performance of several of his compositions: “Die Weihe der Töne,” the
overture to the “Alchymist,” and the flower duet from “Jessonda,” but
first himself executed his concertino in _E major_ upon the violin,
he was, as recorded by the “Spectator”--“welcomed like a Prince, the
whole company rising spontaneously from their seats to salute him” ...
and when he had concluded his artistic and indescribably charming
play, the irrepressible outbursts of delight shewed how completely
he had touched the heart-strings of his auditory. At the end of the
concert the directors conveyed to him moreover the wishes of the queen,
that he would play once more in an extra-concert to be given for that
purpose. As he could not well refuse this, the concert took place a
week afterwards, and comprised in its compendious programme among other
things a symphony of Mozart, the ninth symphony of _Beethoven_, with
the choruses, and three of _Spohr’s_ compositions: concertino in _A
major_, the overture to “Macbeth,” and Tristan’s air in “Jessonda,” in
which _Staudigl_ was twice encored.

Respecting the further circumstances of the concert a letter written
home contains the following: “The extra-concert of yesterday was a very
brilliant success, and afforded us high enjoyment. The appearance there
of the Queen was an event of which all the newspapers and everybody
also spoke beforehand with much interest; as since her coronation she
had never yet appeared at one. When she entered the room, dressed in a
plain black robe, but wearing a good many diamonds, the public clapped
their hands and rose from their seats, upon which the soli and chorus
sang “God save the Queen” with great effect. During the entre-acte, the
Queen sent for _Spohr_ to the adjoining apartment, where she discoursed
with him for some time in a very flattering manner, and advised him
during his further journey in England to travel _incognito_, otherwise
in every town he would be annoyed and intruded upon in the same manner
as in London. Prince Albert and the King of the Belgians entered also
into conversation with him, and he was much edified by their remarks.
Several persons whom we knew, who sat near the Queen, laid great stress
upon the circumstance that upon _Spohr’s_ appearance in the orchestra,
she and her husband bowed very profoundly, and clapped their hands very
warmly,” &c. At further music parties he experienced great pleasure in
hearing his trios, quartets, airs and duets from his operas, and songs,
executed with the most perfect finish, and was always much delighted
with the wonderfully pure execution of the favorite English glees. Upon
these occasions he was not at all disturbed by the enormous quantity of
musical pieces which were brought forward, for with his inexhaustible
nerve and power of endurance he was fortunately enabled to compete with
the English.

As a curiosity of the kind the following programme may be adduced, of a
musical festival got up by Mr. _Alsager_, then co-editor of the Times,
in honour of _Spohr_:

Queen Square Select Society.

Musical Festival in Honour of the arrival of Spohr in London.

Sunday July 2, 1843.

  Act. 1.

  Double Quartet No. 1                                   Spohr.
  Quintet-Pianoforte, Flute, Clarinet, Horn and Bassoon  Spohr.
  Double Quartet No. 2                                   Spohr.
  Nonetto                                                Spohr.

  Déjeuner à la fourchette.

  Act. 2.

  Quintet                                                Spohr.
  Ottetto                                                Spohr.
  Double Quartet No. 3                                   Spohr.

  To commence at 2 o’clock--Déjeuneur at 5--
  Second act to commence at 7.

This festival, which was in every respect successful, and got up with
princely magnificence, must have been the more gratifying to _Spohr_,
when he saw how the company, consisting of fifty persons, listened
until late in the evening with admirable perseverance and wrapped
attention to his tones, without evincing the least sign of weariness.
When gratified beyond measure by a festive testimonial so unusual, he
felt called upon to express his very great thanks to Mr. _Alsager_,
he found to his great surprise on the following day among the mass of
letters which he constantly received, one also from him expressing
his heartfelt thanks, which concluded as follows: “May you enjoy all
the happiness that can result from the consciousness that you are a
benefactor to the world and communicate happiness to others in a circle
still increasing and never ending.”

Upon their pleasure trip on the 12th July _Spohr_ and his wife
were accompanied by Professor _Taylor_, in whom they found both a
well-informed and amiable guide and companion. They visited Winchester,
Portsmouth, Southampton, Bath, Bristol and Wales. With the natural
beauties of the latter _Spohr_ was so much charmed that in many parts
he considered them to surpass Switzerland, and all that he had ever
seen. On the return journey to London, he was loud in his expressions
of admiration of the beauties of Cheltenham, and of the fine university
of Oxford. Though in accordance with the advice of the Queen he had
thought to make this little journey _incognito_; nevertheless his
arrival soon became known in each town, and the composer of “Die
letzten Dinge,” the pianoforte arrangement of which he found in almost
every house, was received by every one after his own manner, with
the highest honours, upon which occasions many incidents occurred
that either greatly amused or moved him. Meanwhile, in London, every
possible exertion had been made, and upon his return, _Spohr_ found
that his oratorio had been studied with such faultless precision, that
as he wrote word in a letter home “at the grand rehearsal he was really
much moved both with its excellent execution, and the conviction that
such a number of persons totally stranger to him, and for the most part
engaged in business (who in London have indeed but little leisure time)
should have devoted their evenings to a late hour, during his absence
of eight days, to the study of this difficult work, from pure love of
it, and to afford him an agreeable surprise.”

The performance itself is then thus described: “Imagine a gigantic
hall with places for 3000 persons, crammed full, head above head; in a
balcony apart, as the bill expresses it ‘Madame _Spohr_ and Friends’
looking down upon the scene. Opposite the magnificent and stupendous
organ and on all sides around it, an orchestra and choir of singers
numbering five hundred persons, grouped in the most charming manner; in
that orchestra _Spohr_ enters, and at the same moment the whole public
and orchestra rise from their seats, all waving handkerchiefs and hats
and shouting long and loudly altogether “Bravo, Hurrah!” But no sooner
did _Spohr_ lift his _baton_ than all sat down, and a deep silence of
anxious attention reigned. Then resounded through the spacious hall
the first moving accords of the overture, like music from another
sphere. The whole performance proceeded now grandly and as though with
one impulsive inspiration in all. A solemn thrilling emotion pervaded
us, and at many powerful passages, such as “Er regiert auf ewig (he
rules for ever) Hallelujah!”--“Du nur allein bist Gott” &c. (Thou, and
Thou only art God),--then it was as though all mankind had assembled
to praise God with the purest harmony. But doubly wonderful at such
outbursts of powerful grandeur is the ever-recurring entry at the right
moment of the tenderest shades of expression.... Three airs and the
grand chorus of the Persians were encored with vehement acclamation. At
the conclusion the people, at a loss to find a new and further way of
expressing their rapture, demonstrated it more prominently by mounting
at once upon the benches. When at length _Spohr_ had made his way
through the mass of those who pressed forward to shake hands with and
congratulate him as he passed on to the door of the hall, I observed
with astonishment that the whole company remained behind, and whispered
to each other, which induced me to think something important was still
to take place; when after a time the noise broke out anew and _Spohr_
was again vehemently called for. Upon this two gentlemen led him back
once more, and having informed him that the public much wished him to
address a few words to them, he at length determined to do so, and made
a short speech in ~German~, which although they did not understand,
was very gratefully received by the assembly. Hereupon the President
stepped forward, and having delivered a long address to _Spohr_ in
English, which was repeatedly interrupted by applause and cries of
“Hear! hear!” he presented to him in the name of the company a large
silver salver with a beautifully engraved inscription commemorative of
the evening festival,” &c.--This solemn concluding scene crowned all
that _Spohr_ had yet experienced, and the sad moment of parting from
hospitable England now approached. _Spohr_ himself was painfully moved
by it, although the earnest solicitations of every kind which poured in
upon him, gave him little time for calm reflection. Daily from various
quarters did he receive the blank sheets of albums with the request
for some souvenir from his own hand, many of which yet awaited their
execution and kept him occupied at his writing-table up to the time of
his departure. After he had satisfied these last requests even, and
at length embarked on board the steamer, he good humouredly remarked
to the crowd of friends and admirers who had collected to bid him
farewell: “There is now indeed scarcely a lover of music in England
who has not my autograph,”--the steamer was hailed from the shore, and
on looking in that direction he saw a boat rowing fast towards them,
and shortly, several gentlemen came on board, bearing numerous albums
that had arrived too late, with the entreaty that _Spohr_ would write
something in each during the journey down to Gravesend, whither they
would accompany him with that view! Actually also, did _Spohr_ comply,
and writing, he left the shores of England, and so made the parting
moments somewhat less painful to him!

       *       *       *       *       *

Early in the month of October 1843, a meeting of the Philological
Society was to take place in Cassel, and the generally expressed wish
to honour the same with some musical performances was the more natural,
from the means necessary thereto being more especially at command
there. Upon _Spohr’s_ recommendation the president of the society and
Gymnasial-Director _Weber_ proposed the performance of “Antigone” at
the theatre, with _Mendelssohn’s_ choruses; and _Spohr_ expressed
himself ready to comply with the wishes of the magistracy to give a
performance of his oratorio: “Der Fall Babylons” in the church, for the
benefit of the poor of the city. As, however, the permission of the
Prince could not be obtained for both, the foreign guests were obliged
to content themselves with a private performance of “Antigone” in the
spacious hall where they held their sittings, upon which occasion
Councillor _Niemeyer_ read the tragedy, and the choruses were sung
with accompaniment of two pianofortes by the singers of the men’s
choral society under _Spohr’s_ direction. In this manner all went off
very effectingly, and the strangers were so well content that they
not only expressed their most heartfelt thanks to _Spohr_ for his
exertions, but at their next sitting, (at which he assisted with much
interest) unanimously voted also a letter of thanks to _Mendelssohn_.
_Spohr_ himself was also so much pleased with the spirited and truly
original music “that he now exceedingly desired to hear it also with
full orchestral treatment.” But as under the present overruling
circumstances in Cassel this was not to be achieved, he shortly
afterwards gave a repetition of the reading of the tragedy in the same
manner, for a charitable purpose, but in a more spacious building, by
which means a wider circle of the lovers of music were enabled for the
first time to become acquainted with the interesting work.

About this time _Spohr_ began to turn his mind seriously to the
composition of another opera, which probably arose from the frequency
with which the libretto of operas were sent to him. But as none of them
satisfied him, and as upon a closer examination, either the treatment
of the subject or the form of the musical pieces did not suit him,
he conceived the idea of writing with the assistance of his wife the
text of a libretto, and chose for subject the once favorite drama of
Kotzebue: “The Crusaders,” which seemed to him particularly adapted to
the object he had this time in view, namely, an entire deviation from
the customary form, as well as from the style, of his own previous
opera music; in composing the whole throughout as a musical drama,
without unnecessary repetitions of the text and ornamentations, and
with a constantly progressing development in the treatment. As soon as
the libretto was completed, he set to work with great spirit, and in
a short time completed the first act, which he immediately arranged
for the pianoforte, and had performed in his house by a select number
of the best dilettanti, in order to convince himself of the success
of his work, before he proceeded further with it. When he became
satisfied how clearly and intelligibly, even without the aid of scenic
representations, the lifelike expression of his music depicted the
different characters and situations, and how powerfully both singers
and auditory were impressed by it, he proceeded with confidence with
the next act, and finished that also, all but the instrumentation,
before the commencement of the theatrical vacation.

As object of his customary summer journey _Spohr_ had selected
Paris, in order to shew his wife the grandeur of that brilliant
capital, and to visit at the same time the international exhibition
of industry, which, as the first of its kind, had so greatly excited
public attention, that strangers from every quarter of the globe
flocked to it to behold the endless treasures in every department of
manufacturing industry, and to admire the products of art. With the
daily concourse of the visitors it was however almost impossible to
obtain an undisturbed and attentive view; it was therefore matter of no
small self-congratulation for _Spohr_ and his wife to receive a ticket
of admission procured by especial favour upon a day that had been set
apart for the King’s visit to the exhibition, when exhibitors only
were permitted to be present. By this means they were also furnished
with the rare opportunity of seeing the venerable _Louis Philippe_,
accompanied by his wife, his sister _Adelaide_, and the then still very
youthful Duke _de Montpensier_, pass close before them, and to hear
distinctly the King’s remarks upon the various manufactures displayed.

At a season of the year so unfavourable for musical performances of any
consequence, _Spohr_ could scarcely hope to enjoy that gratification,
but there, in a foreign land he had the unhoped-for satisfaction of an
enjoyment he had vainly endeavoured to obtain at home, that namely of
assisting at a performance of “Antigone” with _Mendelssohn’s_ choruses,
which on that evening had been given for the thirty-second time in
succession at the Odéon theatre to constantly crowded houses, and
_Spohr_ was deeply impressed with the excellence of the music and of
the scenic arrangements.

But although the best musicians were for the most part absent from
Paris, he nevertheless passed some very pleasant hours in the society
of Mr. _Habenec_ (director of the conservatory), _Panseron_, _Halevy_,
_Auber_, _Berlioz_, _Adam_, &c. On the part of the conservatory it
was also greatly wished to shew him some mark of attention, although
under the circumstances some difficulty was experienced in doing so, as
appears from a notice in a Parisian journal, in the following words:
“Mais que faire pour prouver à l’auteur de ‘Faust’ et de ‘Jessonda’
que la France sait apprécier dignement ses belles compositions et leur
auteur? Une idée vient soudain à un ami de Mr. _Habenec_: ‘L’époque
des magnifiques concerts du Conservatoire est passée! dit-il; eh bien!
écrivons partout, réunissons une partie de nos artistes, et essayons
de tresser une petite couronne à _Spohr_, en exécutant devant lui un
de ses plus beaux morceaux.’ Le projet est approuvé, on n’avait que
quelques jours pour le mettre en œuvre. Des circulaires sont adressées
à vingt, trente lieues de Paris. Des hommes d’un talent supérieur,
qui n’auraient pas quitté leur _dolce far niente_ à prix d’argent,
se hâtent d’accourir, et la Société des Concerts, à l’exception de
deux de ses membres qui sont maintenant en Italie, se trouve réunie à
Paris comme un seul homme. La salle du Conservatoire est ouverte, tons
les exécutants s’y rendent, et _Spohr_ y est amené comme spectateur
unique; c’est pour lui seul que soixante-dix-huit musiciens sont là,
c’est aux pieds de sa gloire qu’ils viennent se prosterner, et lui font
entendre son chef-d’œuvre symphonique: ‘La création de la Musique’
(‘Weihe der Töne’).”

Upon _Spohr’s_ entry into the room he was greeted with loud applause,
and addressed in a speech by Mr. _Habenec_, who invited him to
direct his symphony in person, as at the next winter concerts, the
society intended to perform it, and it would therefore be of the
utmost value to all, to be initiated by the personal direction of the
composer himself into its mode of performance. In reality, also, many
indications and repetitions were necessary upon the occasion, until
every thing, went satisfactorily; but _Beethoven’s_ pastoral symphony,
which followed, and had been frequently played, was executed with that
masterly precision for which that orchestra was so celebrated.

On the following day _Spohr_ set out on his return to Cassel, which he
again left after the lapse of a few weeks, to comply with an invitation
from his native town of Brunswick, where they had long desired to
give a grand musical festival in his honour, and had therefore made
arrangements to have a performance of his oratorio the “Fall of
Babylon,” at the end of September.

On his way thither he received a foretaste of the Brunswick
festivities, at Seesen, where he slept the first night, and where he
had passed the first years of his childhood; the inhabitants of that
place having been thereby induced to believe that it was really his
birth-place. He was greatly surprised at being welcomed immediately
upon his arrival here with a kind and most hearty address and ushered
with much ceremony into the handsomely decorated grand room of the
hotel, where he found disposed in a wide semicircle, symmetrically
arranged, a selection from all the musical talent of the young folks
of Seesen, with the members of the choral society of that place; who,
besides singing several songs, executed a chorus from “Die letzten
Dingen” and a pleasing poem composed especially for the occasion,
addressed to _Spohr_, and arranged for four voices.

Brunswick was no less demonstrative in celebrating the presence of its
illustrious guest, and detailed notices of an impromptu festival given
to _Spohr_ are furnished by several letters, in which the brilliant
external display, as well as the expressive and appropriately arranged
musical entertainment, appealed with equal force and charm to the heart
and mind. A cantata set to music by _Methfessel_ for female voices and
chorus, “Welcome to _Spohr_,” was first sung, with a soft accompaniment
of wind instruments placed out of sight in the background, and executed
by them in the most finished manner. But scarcely had the guest so
honoured time to express his thanks at the conclusion of this pretty
song, when quite unexpectedly, and in striking contrast with it, a
powerful chorus of male voices from the opposite side of the hall began
a second “festive song to _Spohr_,” which prepared the minds of all for
the enjoyment of the subsequent more exhilarating festivities.

On the following day _Spohr_ directed the performance of his oratorio:
“The fall of Babylon,” in the Ægydian church, which was here also
executed with great spirit, and was well received. The circumstance
that its performance took place in the same church in which more
than 60 years before he was baptised as an infant greatly increased
the interest of the day, and gave occasion to several other poetic
effusions.

A grand concert of a mixed kind concluded the festivities of the
day; the first part of which comprised the overture to “King
Lear” by _Berlioz_, directed by Kapellmeister _Müller_, airs from
“Oberon” and “Jessonda” an adagio for violin by _Spohr_, executed by
concert-director _Müller_, and _Maurer’s_ concertante for four violins
(played by _Müller_, _Zimmermann_, _C. Müller jun._ and _Jean Bott_
of Cassel); the second part consisted of _Spohr’s_ fifth symphony, _C
minor_. Thus ended this pleasing festival, the heartfelt pleasure at
which was alone saddened to _Spohr_ by thoughts of his beloved father,
who, up to the few months preceeding his death in Brunswick had passed
the last years of his life in Seesen, but who, after watching for years
at a distance the career of his son with pleasurable pride, could now
no longer be a witness of the high esteem and honour shewn to him by
his native town.

At the end of the year _Spohr_ received an invitation to a grand
musical festival at New-York--the first from that side of the Ocean,
to the direction of which he had been unanimously selected at a
general meeting of the society of music of that city, “as the first
of all living composers and directors of music.” There were to be two
performances of sacred and two of secular music, and above all his
oratorio of the “Fall of Babylon”--“the fame of which had spread from
England to the new world,” was to take precedence. Although such a
proposal might have had great attractions for _Spohr_, and have yet
more incited his constant love of travel; and although in New York he
would have moreover the pleasure of seeing again his daughter _Emily_,
who with her husband and child had emigrated there some years before,
yet he soon made up his mind to decline it, as a residence there of
the few weeks only which the duties of his place would have perhaps
permitted, would scarcely have compensated for the fatigues of a long
voyage.

On New Year’s Day 1845, _Spohr’s_ new opera, “The Crusaders,” was
performed for the first time; and not only upon the first night, but
upon the quickly succeeding further performances, it met with an
unexampled brilliant reception for Cassel. _Spohr_, who had looked
forward with particularly anxious expectation to the success of this
work, was much gratified at this result, and wrote to his friend
_Hesse_ as follows: “That my opera should have made so deep and
lasting an impression upon the public, the lesser number of which only
consisted of musically educated persons, I ascribe to the truthful
character of my music, which aims only at representing the situation
perfectly, and discards all the flimsy parade of modern opera-music,
such as florid instrumental soli and noisy effects.[39] And I was
furthermore exceedingly pleased that the singers, who did not find in
their parts anything of that which usually gains for them the applause
of the crowd, evinced nevertheless at every rehearsal a greater
interest in it, and a zeal to study such as I never before observed in
them. But the result shews also, that this style of song, which is so
convenient for every one, and affords the opportunity of displaying
the best tones, and the degree of feeling and expression which each
is capable of, is a very grateful one; for never were our singers so
applauded, and after the second performance they were all called for
together on the stage.” The newspapers having circulated a great deal
in praise of the new opera, and it having become more extensively known
by the pianoforte arrangement which was shortly afterwards published by
_J. Schuberth_, it was soon announced for performance at other theatres
in Germany, viz. at Berlin, Dresden, Brunswick and Detmold; but in
other (catholic) cities, like Munich, Vienna &c., objection was taken
to the libretto, which had been asked for examination, and therefore
the performance was abstained from.

[39] To similar observations in a letter to _Hauptmann_ he adds: “I
could not make up my mind to write _one_ unnecessary note for the sake
of brilliancy.”

As _Spohr_ was invited to direct personally the first performance
of his “Crusaders” at Berlin, he was desirous that this should take
place during his theatrical vacation; and although he was apprised
from there that it was the most unfavourable season of the year for
it, as the chief characters of his opera could not be satisfactorily
represented till after the return of the absent principal singers, he
nevertheless though it more advisable to do without their assistance,
than by a longer delay to make the possibility of his coming a matter
of uncertainty.

At the beginning of the holidays he therefore set out on the journey,
but first to Oldenburg, to direct a grand concert there, the receipts
from which were destined for the institution of a pension fund for the
members of the orchestra there.

The programme had been previously cast by _A. Pott_, the resident
director, his former pupil and enthusiastic admirer, and consisted
wholly of _Spohr’s_ compositions, viz. concert overture in the serious
style; latest violin concerts in _E minor_, executed by the composer;
duett from “Jessonda” sung by Mrs. _Schmidt_ of Bremen and Mr. **;
clarinet concerto, played by Mr. _Köhn_, member of the ducal orchestra;
grand symphony in _C minor_ (No. 5); the “Lord’s Prayer,” for solo,
chorus, and orchestra.

Upon _Spohr’s_ arrival he found the whole of the musical pieces
(the last two of which he himself directed) so well practised under
_Pott’s_ direction, that at the rehearsal he was greatly pleased by
it. At the public performance, also, every thing went off so well,
that Mrs. _Spohr_ expresses herself in a letter home as follows: “We
felt as though we had been suddenly transported to England. The music,
the finished execution, the spacious, densely filled, and splendidly
acoustic building, the enthusiastic applause and admiration--all were
in truth _grandly English_. And all this was doubly surprising and
gratifying when one thinks that this took place in a small town with a
population of only 12,000. Orchestra and singers, three hundred persons
in all, worked together with wonderful harmony. Every piece of music
was excellent, but the impression made by the ‘Lord’s Prayer’ was
_quite indescribable_, and the words in which _Pott_ shortly before
expressed himself to _Spohr_, after a rehearsal of it: ‘Happy is the
man who can pray with such intense devotion; peace must indeed dwell
in his soul,’ presented themselves here in their full import to my
mind. _Spohr_, also, was of my opinion that he had never heard the
piece so well played, for even in the finest shades of the expression
there was nothing more to be desired. The whole platform from which
_Spohr_ led the orchestra, and the steps leading to it, were strewn
with the finest roses; the whole front of the orchestra was decorated
with wreaths; and beneath his bust, crowned with laurel, were the words
‘_Louis Spohr_’ in gigantic letters, composed of roses and laurel
artistically interwoven. While the assembly were listening with the
deepest attention to the splendid tones, it was little imagined by
any one how every enjoyment was embittered to _Spohr_, by a sudden
seizure with cramp in the stomach, which soon became so intense, as
he himself afterwards related, that when conducting the symphony and
the ‘Lord’s Prayer’ he had great difficultly in keeping himself erect.
After the concert we were to have assisted at another _fête_, given by
the minister _von Beaulieu_ at his house, in honour of _Spohr_; but
under the circumstances this became impossible, and we hastened home
with all speed, where, having arrived, _Spohr_ went immediately to
bed, and was obliged to resort to sedatives; but the cramp would not
yield to them, and the doctor who was called in, vainly endeavoured
to afford him relief, so that the pain became intense. At this very
moment when _Spohr_ lay in such a sad condition of suffering that
he expected every moment would be his last, a singular and striking
contrast was presented to his position, by a monster torch-light
procession followed by a large concourse of the inhabitants of
Oldenburg, which halted under our windows, and began a grand serenade
with the overture and several choruses from ‘Jessonda,’ performed by
all the native and foreign musicians then in Oldenburg, together with
three choral societies. Many other pieces were to have been performed,
but by _Spohr’s_ wish, _Pott_ availed himself of the opportunity when
a loud cheer was raised by the crowd, to address them in his name from
the window in a speech of thanks, which, although improvised, was
as well put together and delivered as though he had long previously
studied it. But when he acquainted them with _Spohr’s_ illness also,
a general depression spread immediately through all present, and the
previously so joyous assembled serenaders, withdrew in silent sadness.
In our house, meanwhile, all was remarkably lively: the hostess,
Mrs. _Oppermann_, wife of the Councillor _Oppermann_ of the high
court of appeal, was entertaining two carriage-loads of guests who
had come to the concert, together with all her acquaintance, who had
assembled below to be enabled to hear the serenade music better. In
strange contrast with these intervened the various attendances to the
necessities of our patient, the messages to the apothecary, my agony
of mind--in fact, it was a situation singular indeed of its kind.

“At midnight the physician came again, wrote some new prescriptions,
and gave fresh instructions, but all in vain; the attacks of the cramp
lasted till near 3 o’clock, when they became at length less violent,
and by degrees entirely ceased. But as the doctor was of opinion this
morning that the motion of the carriage might be prejudicial to the
invalid, we have deferred our departure, and the more so, as we could
be nowhere better off than here, where we receive the kindest attention
and care from the whole household, and everything that the heart can
wish is at our service. To-day, _Spohr_ received from the Grand-duke
a splendid diamond ring as a ‘souvenir of Oldenburg,’ which greatly
surprised and pleased him. The Grand-duke had intended to place the
ring himself on his finger at the dinner to which he had invited him,
but this also was defeated by the illness that overtook him,” &c.

_Spohr_ having determined by the advice of the physician to proceed as
soon as possible direct from Oldenburg to the baths of Carlsbad, and
devote the remainder of his vacation to the re-establishment of his
health by drinking the waters, he thought he should no longer be able
to fulfill his promises--to direct his “Jessonda” at Bremen, and the
first performance of the “Crusaders” at Berlin--wherefore with a heavy
heart he sent off letters announcing his inability to proceed to those
places.

Meanwhile, however, the remarkable efficacy of the Carlsbad waters,
which he had already several times experienced, evinced itself again
upon him in so satisfactory a manner, that in the very first week of
his stay the idea suggested itself to him, to remain for the present
but a fortnight only in Carlsbad, and defer following up the cure
of its waters to the following summer, so that his so unwillingly
abandoned purpose of proceeding to Berlin might yet be carried out.
In this hope he continued the course of baths with such unwearied
perseverance and unswerving confidence that he was enabled to reach
Berlin in sufficient time to assume personally the direction of his
“Crusaders.”

At the first grand rehearsal, in which he was introduced by _Meyerbeer_
and Councillor _Küstner_ to the assembled company of the theatre,
he became convinced that his work had been studied with particular
pleasure and predilection, and the song parts, although not filled
by stars of the first magnitude, were nevertheless impersonated,
as regarded the chief and secondary characters, in a thoroughly
satisfactory manner. On the evening of the performance he was received
upon his appearance with the greatest enthusiasm by the public, and
loudly called for after every act. On the following night the opera was
repeated with the same brilliant success. The public papers contained
also the most favourable notices of each, and the “Vossische Zeitung”
especially gave an article from the pen of _Rellstab_ to this effect:
“We have to speak of an event in art that will occupy one of the most
prominent and honourable places in the history of our stage--the
first performance of _Louis Spohr’s_ new opera, “The Crusaders.” The
merits of the master have already made themselves so prominently
conspicuous, and the worth of that which we possess in him is so fully
acknowledged, that it is not necessary even to speak of the character
of his music nor of its effects upon the development of art in the
present day.... What we had to expect as a whole, every body knew who
knows the artistic direction of _Spohr’s_ genius--and who does not
know it? That we should hear a work that might be ranked with the
noblest of the kind to which the composer has adhered throughout his
whole life, was to be expected. But we must frankly confess, we had
not dared to hope for so much freshness, so many instances of fiery
power, as the now more than sexagenarian master actually gives us!
Throughout the whole, he is the same we have long known; but in many
circumstances of the detail he presents us with numerous gifts of new
and finished excellence--and also of frequent brilliancy. His muse
has never addressed herself to the crowd: she never sought to seduce
by coquettish and alluring advances; her language, her movements have
been alone animated by a noble spiritual inspiration, and sought to win
the heart by purity and dignity. We had at first intended to indicate
the most prominently beautiful passages, which we consider it just
to particularise; but we soon found them so numerous, that we were
compelled to content ourselves with a selection. In the first act we
recall to mind the singular freshness of Baldwin’s greeting; Emma’s
devout song: “Dass ich die Braut des Himmels bin,” the effective and
ominous mingling of the tolling of the funeral bell in the discourse
with the porteress; the first strong physiognomic delineations of
the abbess Celestina, in the words: “Ich kenne Dein Geschlecht--Dein
Schicksal führt Dich her;” we remember some features that designate the
same character and its impassioned ebullition, as: the soft transition
of the orchestra after the words: “Ihr sollt das Mädchen lieben;” and
the subsequent words: “Gerichtet hat ihn Gott!--die Mutter weint,--die
Tochter büsst,--dem Todten sei verziehen;” which are of the deepest
and most impressive effect from their musical treatment.--The march
of the Saracens in this act is also of most original colouring, and
recurs again in the third act, where it is connected with that which
has gone before, and is handled in so startling and beautiful a manner
in the orchestra, that the public expressed their delight at the return
to it there by a general outburst of applause.--If we cite fewer
passages in the subsequent acts, it is not that these were poorer, but
not to weary the reader’s patience with the enumeration of individual
parts; and indeed the power of the music increases with the interest
of the subject treated. The recognition scene between Balduin and
Emma, Balduin’s threat at its conclusion, and the whole finale of the
second act, form striking moments, which always ensure the admiration
of the hearer. In the third act, the duet between Balduin and Bruno
is a fine master-piece of music, and the conclusion, the despair of
Balduin, replete with energetic force, and instrumented in a truly
powerful manner. The battle chorus of the Turks, from its prominent
difference of colouring, excited the enthusiasm of the auditory, who
followed the conformity of the opera well sustained throughout from
that part to the end, with the most lively interest.... We must also
acknowledge the zeal of all the performers.... But no less are thanks
and honour due to the public! They have this time shewn themselves
fully sensible of their office of judge and reward-giver, and gave that
unremitting attention to the work throughout which is most expressive
of the admiration and interest it awakened. Scarcely any fine passage
passed unnoticed by more or less warm demonstrations.... The day thus
terminated in a triumph for long years of meritorious services, and in
a day of honour for this particular work, which bears witness to the
wealth in artistic riches possessed by the composer, and in what sure
keeping and governance they are in the hands of our highly esteemed
master;” &c.--Passing over other similar notices, a criticism (signed
H. T.) may be adverted to here, for its strikingly harsh contrast with
the former; overflowing with dissatisfaction and every kind of reproach
of this opera, and which although not among the other papers now before
us, is still remembered by the family as one that greatly surprised
them by its contents. In cases of this kind _Spohr_ always laughed at
the angry zeal of his friends, affirming that every one had a right
to express his personal opinion freely, but at the same time with the
remark: “When a piece of music is really good, no reviling critic can
take from it an atom of its merit!”--

Though the brilliant success of this opera, which _Spohr_ had written
under circumstances of particular predilection, constituted the most
important moment of his eight days’ visit to Berlin, he passed the
previous and subsequent days in the most agreeable manner in the
amiable family circle of Professor _Wichmann_. But not alone in the
hospitable reception accorded him and his wife, which afforded them
all the delights of a charming domesticity, did _Spohr_ experience the
highest gratification; for from other quarters also marks of attention
were shown him yet more demonstrative of the honour in which his genius
was held.

Especially gratifying as were to him the attentions of his colleagues
in art, _Meyerbeer_, _Taubert_, _Hub. Riess_, and others, he was
not insensible to the tribute of acknowledgment paid to him by the
King; and the honour of an invitation to the royal table was yet more
enhanced in worth to him, from its being communicated to him at the
King’s request in a personal visit from the celebrated _Alexander v.
Humboldt_. Of this royal dinner party, at which, besides _Humboldt_,
_Tiek_, _v. Savigny_, and other personages of note were present, who
emulated with each other in pleasing and intellectual conversation
with the King and Queen, _Spohr_ always spoke with much pleasure in
later years. More especially, however, he would recur to the following
amusing incident:

Between the King and _Spohr_, who was seated opposite to him, rose
an ornamental centre-piece of considerable height, in the shape of a
costly flower-vase, which whenever the King was desirous of addressing
his conversation to _Spohr_, greatly interfered and prevented him from
seeing his face. Upon each occasion, the King was obliged to stoop
in order to look round the inconveniently intervening object, until
growing impatient, after having made several signs to the servants to
remove it, which they appeared not to have understood, the King seized
it with his own hand, and removing the obtrusive ornament procured
for himself an unimpeded view across the table to _Spohr_.--On the
last evening, while the _Wichmann_ family and their guests were seated
in the illuminated garden saloon in friendly chat, they were greatly
surprised by the sudden entry from the obscurity of the garden of
several dark figures, which were followed by a constantly increasing
number, until the whole of the members of the royal orchestra, with
_Meyerbeer_ and _Taubert_ at their head, assembled, upon which the
senior member presented _Spohr_ with a beautifully executed golden
laurel-wreath, while _Meyerbeer_, in a speech of much feeling, thanked
him “for all the grand and beautiful things which in his enthusiastic
love of true German art he had hitherto created, and especially for
this his excellent work, “The Crusaders,” &c. This discourse upon
the evening of his taking leave, spoken with warmth and sincerity by
such a man, could not fail to make a deep impression upon _Spohr_
and every person present, and it was followed by a silence the most
profound; until professor _Wichmann_, who was the first to recover
his self-possession, approached _Meyerbeer_, and to the just praises
conveyed in his excellent speech, replied with much humour in the
words: “Positively, _Demosthenes_ was a mere stump orator in comparison
to you!” at which the cheerful tone of the company was magically
restored, and _Spohr_ then returned thanks in a concise yet feeling
manner. Besides this handsome present from the royal Berlin orchestra,
he took back with him to Cassel another souvenir of his stay there,
viz. his own bust executed by professor _Wichmann_, which on account
of its speaking resemblance and artistic excellence has always been
greatly admired both by connoisseurs and the general public.

Scarcely had _Spohr_ returned to Cassel than he was again upon
the move, and this time to Bonn, where on the 11th. of August the
inauguration of the monument to _Beethoven_ was to be celebrated. To
the invitation that had been sent to him many weeks before, to conduct
a portion of the musical performance upon the occasion, he had at
first, it is true, replied declining it, as a special leave of absence
would have been necessary for him to proceed thither, and after having
already applied for one the year before to direct the Brunswick musical
festival, he did not like to make a similar application so soon. It was
however shortly announced to him in a second letter, that the committee
of the festival having been informed that the Prince was then staying
at Cologne for a few days, they had despatched a deputation thither to
invite him and the Countess _Schaumburg_ to the approaching ceremony in
her native town of Bonn, and to solicit at the same a leave of absence
for _Spohr_, which had been graciously granted. As no further obstacle
now intervened, _Spohr_ lost no time in proceeding thither, to lend his
personal assistance at the grand festival, which had drawn together
from far and near the musical youth of Germany, to do honour to the
great master whose memorial was to be inaugurated.

Of the festivities preceding and subsequent to the uncovering of the
statue--the launching of the steam-boat “_Ludwig van Beethoven_,”
the excursion to Nonnenwerth, the grand procession, the pyrotechnic
display, illumination, banquet and ball--all these things have been so
frequently described verbally and in writing by many who were present
at the festival, that we will here only concisely advert to its musical
features.

In the first grand concert _Beethoven’s_ mass in _D major_ and the
ninth symphony were performed under _Spohr’s_ direction, and as the
published accounts of the festival express it, “both these works, which
present very great difficulties, were performed with the most finished
execution, so that this concert alone, combined with the sight of the
hall in which it took place, was well worth the journey to Bonn.” On
the following day, _Beethoven’s_ grand mass in _C major_ was performed
at the celebration of divine service in the minster church, and upon
the uncovering of the statue a festive cantata by _Breitenstein_ was
performed under his direction. At the second grand concert in the hall
_Spohr_, by the desire of _Lisst_, again directed a part, while the
services of the latter, as an active member of the committee, being
continually required in various departments, with the exception of
his performance of _Beethoven’s_ pianoforte concerto in _E major_, he
confined himself to the direction of the _C minor_ symphony and some
“numbers” of the Fidelio. The third, so-called musicians’ concert,
was subjected of a necessity to many changes of the fourteen pieces
of which its programme consisted, as, besides the Princes who were
already arrived, the King and Queen of Prussia, the Queen of England
with her consort, and other exalted personages were expected at the
solemnities of the inauguration of the statue, and _Lisst_ did not
like to begin his festive cantata before their arrival. But it became
at length necessary to make a beginning, and scarcely was the first
“number” of _Lisst’s_ cantata concluded, than the royal personages
made their appearance, and the assembled company saluted them with
the national-hymn: “Heil Dir im Siegerkranz;” after which _Lisst_ had
the whole cantata repeated; upon the conclusion of which it was left
to the two Queens to make the selection of the next musical-pieces
which were to be performed in their presence. It was thus, that not
only the pieces of the programme were changed from their announced
order of succession, but several of the pieces were necessarily wholly
omitted on account of the delay that had thus occurred; and the musical
part of the festival was brought to a termination in a somewhat
unsatisfactory manner, and without a real and proper conclusion in the
opinion of a majority of the auditory. A chosen few, however, among
whom was _Spohr_, received an invitation to the grand court concert,
given by the King of Prussia in honour of his exalted guests at his
palace of the Brühl, in the neighbourhood. _Meyerbeer_ directed, and
the programme consisted, with the exception of some pianoforte-pieces
performed by _Lisst_, of song-pieces only, sung by the most eminent
vocalists, Messrs. _Mantius_, _Pischeck_ and _Staudigl_, with Mdmes.
_Lind_, _Garcia_ and _Tuczek_.

After a summer so busily occupied, and in which _Spohr_ was deprived
of all leisure for composing, the impulse to write something new was
awakened but the more strongly upon his return to Cassel, and several
instrumental compositions followed each other in quick succession,
to which style of art, since the termination of his opera, his whole
mind again more especially addressed itself. About this period he
wrote his 15th. violin-concerto (_E minor_, Op. 128, published by
_Schuberth_), which he first played at the subscription-concerts in
Cassel, and in July 1845 at the previously mentioned musical festival
at Oldenburg, and then in commemoration of that event dedicated it
to _Poll_ the music director of that place. This was followed by the
sixth quintet for stringed instruments (_E minor_ Op. 129, published by
_Breitkopf & Härtel_); and in the course of the winter by a quintet for
pianoforte, two violins, viola and violincello, in _D minor_ (Op. 130,
published by _Schuberth_); the 30th. quartet for stringed instruments
(Op. 132, published by _Breitkopf_); and a quartet concerto for two
violins, viola and violincello, with orchestra--the latter of which
was played at the next subscription concerts, and by the addition of
the rich instrumental accompaniment proved especially adapted as a
simple quartet for performance at a concert in a spacious building.
Before it had appeared in print (Op. 130, at _Schuberth’s_), it was
sent for from London and Vienna, and especially asked for at Leipzic,
at which place the directors of the Gewandhaus concerts were always
extremely desirous of being able to announce in their programme a new
composition in manuscript by _Spohr_. Such upon this occasion was also
the sentiment of _M. Hauptmann_ in a letter to _Spohr_: “Everything
coming from you, old or new, always finds the most favourable reception
here: one can easily judge from the applause whether a thing merely
pleases, or whether it makes a deep pleasurable impression, and that is
always the case with your things. Either song or instrumental music of
yours is always listened to with real predilection, the concert-loving
public finds itself then in an atmosphere that suits it; and in this
manner also the quartet concerto (with the execution of which I was
not altogether satisfied) met with a very warm approval. To my mind
it is perfectly _Spohrisch_, i. e. as masterly, as it is replete with
feeling: the great difficulties attending such an undertaking are
not in the least perceptible when listening to it, and as in your
double quartets, the greatest clearness is always apparent in the
most scientific combinations, which cannot always be said of other
compositions that overstep the limits of the ordinary; that is, what
the initiated understand and consider as high art, but which the mere
hearer of feeling finds pleasing and which put him in good humour,”
&c. The correspondence upon these subjects was chiefly conducted by
_Mendelssohn_, who also made the proposition to introduce the third
act of the Crusaders as a whole, in one of the concerts there, and
afterwards announced to _Spohr_, who was of opinion that _this_
opera in particular was not very suited to the purpose, his entire
satisfaction: “The first time I saw your work in Berlin, the third act
appeared to me the most spirited, and finest in the whole opera, and I
was convinced that it would be very effective in a concert. You seemed
to doubt it, and therefore I am the more pleased that yesterday’s
performance of it made so great an impression, which, to judge from the
attention of the auditory, the applause and their observations, appears
to me very evident... The chorus was about two hundred strong, and the
hymn in _H major_, the chorus for male voices in _C major_, and then
the scene in the convent, sounded wonderfully fine. A thousand hearty
thanks for this enjoyment, and for all the many beautiful things for
which we are indebted to you.... Unfortunately I was not able so to
manage that the direction of this concert would fall to me; but it went
so well under _Gade_, and he had made himself so well acquainted with
the whole work, that even you would scarcely have desired more,” &c.

In striking contrast with these friendly words of acknowledgement from
so competent a judge, a circumstance occurred about the same time,
which from being considered by _Spohr_ himself as the only one of
the kind throughout his long musical career, may not be undeserving
of special mention here. Though the opera of the Crusaders had been
sent by special request to Dresden for performance there, upwards
of a twelvemonth, it had never yet been put upon the stage; and
during that time the directors _Reissiger_ and _Wagner_, as also the
celebrated tenor _Tichatscheck_, for whose splendid voice the part
of Balduin seemed almost purposely written, had repeatedly expressed
by letter their pleasure with the work, and their regret at the
constantly recurring delays, which deprived them of all hope of
_Spohr’s_ proceeding there to direct it--when suddenly, to his great
astonishment, the score, not a little worn and defaced, was sent back
from Dresden, without honorarium, and even without the libretto,
to which _Spohr_ had with much trouble appended many remarks and
directions in writing; accompanied only with a letter from the manager,
Mr. _von Lüttichau_, the very unsatisfactory contents of which may be
inferred from the following accidentally preserved copy of _Spohr’s_
reply:

“Your Excellency’s letter of the 15th. inst. has very much surprised
me. I never could have believed, after my long, and I think I may
say honourable, career as a musician, that I should have lived to
experience the indignity to have the score of one of my works--not sent
in as the first essay of a beginner for examination and trial, but
_ordered_ by previous application--sent back to me in such a manner.
What you are pleased to assign by way of explanation or excuse for so
strange a proceeding, I cannot possibly accept; for it was no fault
of mine that the opera was not brought out at the appointed time,
and both soon enough and frequently enough had I drawn attention to
the circumstance that I could obtain no leave of absence out of my
vacation time. How the opera, which is known by nobody in Dresden,
should now have lost the charm of novelty I can as little understand,
as that the contents of the opera, which were already known to you
when you ordered it, should now all at once be found objectionable,
while here and in Berlin, it has not met with the least objection in
its present form, nor formerly, when performed in the shape of a play
throughout Germany. Had your excellency felt any anxiety lest the
opera would not remunerate for the time given to its study, and the
expenses it might entail, you could assuredly have found some relief
for your doubts in the many numerously attended performances which have
already taken place here, in Berlin, Brunswick, &c. It is difficult
for me also to conceive how the work of an old experienced composer
should be rejected by a theatre which does not disdain the rapid works
of beginners and dilettanti such as .... and .... The insult that
has been offered to me is therefore wholly inexplicable, and I must
console myself with the reflexion, _that it is the only one of the kind
offered to me during my long career as a composer_, and I congratulate
myself that I am not under a theatrical directorship which so little
understands how to respect the feelings of a veteran artist,” &c. To
this a reply was received from the vice-manager, _K. Winkler_, who
at the request of Mr. _von Lüttichau_, expressed his regret that the
return of his score, which had become necessary, should have so much
offended _Spohr_, assuring him furthermore, that the chief reason for
it was the words and subject of the opera, during the ecclesiastical
excitement.

But that _Spohr’s_ view of the matter was not much changed by this
attempt at exculpation is evident from a letter he wrote to _Richard
Wagner_, in which he opens his whole mind to him, and having first
expressed his disappointment that _Wagner’s_ opera “Tannhäuser,”
which he had proposed to the Prince to have performed in celebration
of his birth day, had not received the official sanction, he avails
himself of the opportunity to detail fully to him the incomprehensible
conduct of the Dresden theatrical directorship. _Wagner_, who then
first was made acquainted with all the particulars, gave expression to
his anger thereat, in so plainspoken a manner, that the publication
of his letter, highly interesting as it is, would perhaps be
unadvisable. After the prospect of a meeting with _Wagner_ in Dresden
had been dispelled in so vexatious a manner, _Spohr_ proposed to him
a _rendez-vous_ at Leipzic, where he intended making a stay of a
few days on his contemplated journey with his wife to Carlsbad. As
_Wagner_ seized the idea with much pleasure, the long desired personal
acquaintance was at length made with the greatest mutual satisfaction,
and letters addressed to the family at home speak among other things of
this meeting, and other interesting circumstances that occurred during
their stay there:

“We are passing our time here most delightfully, and enjoying a very
feast of the finest music. On the very first evening we had a music
party at _Hauptmann’s_, where trios by _Mendelssohn_ and _Spohr_, in
which each master took part, were played; and the company, consisting
chiefly of connoisseurs in art, were highly delighted indeed. On the
following day a very charming dinner-party was given at _Wagner’s_
suggestion, who has himself no means of entertaining friends at
Leipzic, by his brother-in-law, Professor _Brockhaus_, in honour of
_Spohr_. We there made the acquaintance of his sister and several
others of his relatives, all of them most intellectual creatures, and
enjoyed ourselves greatly. Besides the members of the family, _Heinrich
Laube_, the author, and his very learned wife, were present, who gave
a yet more lively impress to the conversation. We were most pleased
with _Wagner_, who seems every time more and more amiable, and whose
intellectual culture on every variety of subject is really wonderful.
Among other things he gave expression to his sentiments on political
matters with a warmth and depth of interest that quite surprised
us, and pleased us of course the more from the great liberality of
feeling he displayed. We passed the evening most delightfully at
_Mendelssohn’s_, who did his utmost to entertain and please _Spohr_.
This family has for me something very idealistic about them, they
present a combination of inward and external features, and withal so
much beautiful domestic happiness, that one seldom sees the like of in
actual life. In their establishment and whole manner of living there
is so much unassuming modesty amid all the obvious luxury and wealth
around them, that one cannot but feel at one’s ease. And to me most
gratifying is his unmistakable attachment to and esteem for _Spohr_.
He himself played a most extremely difficult and highly characteristic
composition of his own, called ‘Siebenzehn ernste Variationen’
(seventeen serious variations), with immense effect; then followed
two of _Spohr’s_ quartets--among them the newest (the 30th.)--on
which occasion _Mendelssohn_ and _Wagner_ read from the score with
countenances expressive of their delight. Besides these, the wife
of doctor _Frege_ sang some of _Spohr’s_ songs, which _Mendelssohn_
accompanied beautifully; and in this manner the hours passed rapidly
and delightfully with alternate music and lively conversation, till
midnight drew on unobserved, and at length gave impressive warning to
break up. _Wagner_, who was obliged to return to Dresden the following
day, came to take leave of us, which both to us and to him was a sad
moment. But after he had left, he was frequently the subject of our
conversation, for he left us the words of a new opera which he had
written (Lohengrin) to read, and which is exceedingly original and
interesting.... Yesterday at the dinner-table we made another agreeable
acquaintance, that of the poet _Robert Prutz_, who being seated
exactly opposite to us, introduced himself, sustained a very lively
conversation, and appeared quite charmed at meeting with _Spohr_. After
dinner a performance was arranged in the church by the pupils of the
Thomas School, where, without any accompaniment _Spohr’s_ psalm with
double choir, ‘Aus der Tiefe’ (out of the deep) and his favorite motet
by _Bach_: ‘Ich lasse Dich nicht’ (I will not leave thee) were sung....
Last evening an extra concert was given for _Spohr_ in the well-known
Gewandhaus, which, under _Mendelssohn’s_ direction, was in every
respect a brilliant entertainment. The programme consisted wholly of
_Spohr’s_ compositions, of which we had not been apprized before hand,
and which was on purpose to take us by surprise. It comprised: 1stly.
The overture to Faust; 2dly. An air from Jessonda sung by the prima
donna, Mrs. _Meyer_; 3dly. Grand violin concerto played to _Spohr’s_
complete satisfaction by the wonderful boy _Joachim_; 4thly. Songs with
clarinet accompaniment, by the wife of doctor _Frege_, _Mendelssohn_,
and a first-rate clarinetist, so wonderfully executed that it went
to the very heart; 5thly. ‘Weihe der Töne,’ which for years has been
a bright-shining star with the Leipzic orchestra. At the request of
_Mendelssohn_, _Spohr_, although he would rather have remained a hearer
only, took the direction of the two last subjects, on which occasion
he was greeted by the orchestra and the auditory, which consisted
of about two hundred select guests, with a storm of applause, as he
had also been saluted with upon his entrance. The whole was a grand
elevating festival, and for _Spohr_ a deeply-felt gratification.
_Mendelssohn_ was extremely amiable, and the whole evening as though
intensely happy, which proved how foreign to his mind is every feeling
of jealousy. This evening the last music party will meet at _Vogt’s_,
where _Mendelssohn_ proposes to himself an especial pleasure, not only
in taking part in _Spohr’s_ first trio as pianist, but as _viol_ in his
splendid third double quartet.”

In this manner up to the last moment was _Mendelssohn’s_ thoughtful
and kind attention evinced to _Spohr_, and upon his departure on the
following morning, when the numerous friends who had accompanied us
to the railway-station had taken leave of him, he was, as the further
accounts of the journey express it, “the last of all, who, as the train
at first proceeded slowly, ran for a considerable distance by the side
of the carriage, until he could no longer keep up with it, and his
kindly beaming eyes were the last that left their expression on the
minds of the travellers from Leipzic,” little anticipating indeed that
it was to be their last meeting on this side of the grave!

Scarcely had _Spohr_ arrived in Carlsbad, than he received a pressing
invitation from the Landgrave of _Fürstenberg_, president of the
society of music of Vienna, to direct there two grand performances
of his renowned oratorio, “The Fall of Babylon,” upon the occasion
of a festival at which 1000 singers would assist. But as this was to
take place in November, and it would be necessary to ask for another
“extraordinary” leave of absence to comply with the invitation, this
was applied for through the Austrian embassy. But notwithstanding
the signature of “_Metternich_” gave its imposing weight to the
application, the Prince refused compliance, and thus not only was
_Spohr_ prevented going, but the performance of his oratorio was
necessarily deferred to a more favourable opportunity.

Among the various incidents which this time occurred in agreeable
relief and interruption to the daily routine prescribed for taking the
baths, was first a concert given by the violinist _Ernst_, of which a
letter speaks as follows: “The concert of so celebrated a virtuoso was
quite an event for Carlsbad, and afforded us much pleasure. Besides
the song scene of _Spohr_, he played several of his own things, some
of which were very beautiful, curious compositions replete with all
manner of difficulties and wonderful artistic resorts for display,
and which he executed with great precision and ease; but although
he played _Spohr’s_ concerts with much care and great expression,
yet we have not only heard it played by _Spohr_ himself, but by his
talented pupil _Jean Bott_, much more correctly. The overcrowded house
presented a curious spectacle, for not only was the space allotted to
the spectators, but the whole stage also, occupied by the public, which
sat round disposed in a large semi-circle,” &c. But amusing scenes of
another kind also occurred at Carlsbad. One day a good-natured invalid
visitor of the baths took it into his head to give a little treat to
the fifteen young serving-women attached to the baths, at which several
hundred spectators were present; and above all, _Spohr_, with his
characteristic good humour, took great pleasure at the sight of the
assembled girls, dressed in their uniform (white gowns, green spencers,
and pink aprons), each with a fresh-gathered rose in her hair, seated
at a long table, and looking around on all the spectators with eyes
beaming with pleasure as they partook of their treat of coffee and
cake. At another time, by a similar but anonymous kind-hearted
individual a parcel was sent to _Spohr_ containing two enormous
herrings, remarkable samples of their species, with the laconic
inscription appended to them: “I love _Spohr’s_ music! The great German
_Spohr_ will not despise the accompanying quite fresh herrings, a
very rare, but permitted dish here. Carlsbad June 6.” Though _Spohr_
had always been used to receive a great variety of presents, and
frequently of the strangest kind, as tokens of esteem and admiration,
yet he had never before received one of so surprising and comical a
kind, at which, with _Ernst_, who happened to be present at the moment
he received them, he laughed very heartily, and then without much
speculation or care as to who the anonymous donor might be, ate with
much relish the delicious fish, as a change from the scant prescriptive
supper permitted to the bath patients. As the greatest moderation
not only in physical but mental exertions and enjoyments formed part
of the bathing cure, _Spohr_, as a conscientious patient, had at
first considered it a duty to refrain from every musical excitement,
particularly from that of composing, until the impulse became so
strong within him that he thought it more prejudicial to suppress by
force than to give some form to the vivid ideas that floated across
his fancy; and thus with unforced readiness flowed from his pen the
last part yet wanting to complete the fourth pianoforte trio which he
had already begun in Cassel; and it being as it were the bubbling and
overflow of the gaiety of his spirits, he was accustomed to call it by
way of souvenir of the benefit he derived from the bubbling springs of
Carlsbad, “_Der Sprudelsatz_” (The bubble piece). As however there was
no good player on the violincello in Carlsbad, he thought he should be
obliged to wait till his return to Cassel for a thorough performance of
the trio; but during a short stay at Meiningen on his return journey,
_Edward Grund_, the already frequently mentioned music director, with
incredible diligence took all the requisite measures for getting up a
quartet party on the same evening in his house, where _Spohr_ had the
unexpected opportunity of hearing his trio, with the aid of his wife
and the distinguished violincellist _Metzner_, for the first time,
which afforded also no little delight to the company present. As it
also soon became a favorite piece with the musical circles of Cassel,
_Spohr_ kept it by him for a long time in manuscript, before he sent it
to his publisher, _Schuberth_, who looked forward with truly restless
impatience to the appearance of this trio of _Spohr’s_ in order to make
it public. (Op. 135.)

In the beginning of the year 1847 the day drew near at length, the
celebration of which had for weeks beforehand set the natives of
Cassel on the tip-toe of pleasurable expectation, that, namely, of
his twenty-fifth year’s jubilee as director at the court theatre of
Cassel. The lively interest taken far and near in this festival evinced
itself in so many demonstrations of attachment and esteem towards the
individual thus honoured, that a published account of them written
by Dr. _Frederick Oetker_, the proceeds of which were devoted to
charitable purposes, formed a complete pamphlet, for a short extract
from which we have alone room here:

“Early on the morning of the 20th. January, the recipient of the day’s
honours was awakened from his slumbers by a serenade played by his
pupils _Jean Bott_ and _A. Malibran_, who, assisted by musicians of
the court orchestra, performed his second double quartet. This was
followed by a long succession of congratulatory visits from relatives,
friends, pupils, and admirers of all classes and from every quarter,
who came to express their wishes for his health and happiness. From
the society of St. Cecilia there came a well selected deputation,
composed of representatives of soprani, alti, tenori and bass, in
whose name the secretary _Knyrim_, the only remaining original member,
expressed in hearty words their grateful acknowledgement of the many
services rendered to art, and to the society in particular, by the
honoured jubilant. These were succeeded by the postmaster-general
_Nebelthau_, as member of the council of state, who presented _Spohr_
a congratulatory address in writing from the chief magistrate of
Cassel, and then the music director from Göttingen, Mr. _Wehner_,
delivered a wreath of laurel from that place, accompanied with a
congratulatory poem, and with a diploma nominating _Spohr_ an honorary
member of the singing association of Göttingen. Accompanied with a
most obliging letter the King of Prussia sent to him the order of the
red eagle, third class, and the Prince, who had some years before
already conferred upon him the Hessian order of the lion, forwarded
to him upon this occasion a further mark of distinction, nominating
him music director-general, with grant of official character at court.
The rescript of this patent was personally handed to _Spohr_ by the
chamberlain _von Heeringen_, who the previous year had been nominated
intendant-general of the court theatre, in order at the same time to
express both his good wishes and the high esteem he felt for _Spohr_
as a man and as an artist, which he moreover proved upon this occasion
by the splendid festal performances he had ordered at the theatre
in celebration of this day. This consisted in a musical-dramatic
production “of scenically connected music-pieces from the operas of
_Spohr_,” the tickets of admission to which, besides those to the
extra standing places, had been issued many days before, so that the
house was actually crammed. When _Spohr_ made his appearance in the
box in the first tier, which had been appropriated to him and his
family, he was received with the most tumultuous demonstrations of
joy, with which the strains of his overture to the opera of “Alruna”
soon mingled. This was followed by a tableau from “Zemira and Azor,”
representing the union of the lovers. After the conclusion of this
tableau, as also after each of the following scenes from _Spohr’s_
operas: “Zemira”, “Zweikampf,” “Jessonda,” “Berggeist,” “Pietro von
Abano,” “Alchymist,” and “Kreuzfahrer,” the fairy with her golden magic
wand came upon the stage and introduced the succeeding scene each
time with appropriate verses. After each piece of music the outburst
of applause was repeated, and at its conclusion redoubled in energy,
to be again resumed with equal perseverance as in succession the two
overtures to the “Mountain Sprite” and to “Faust” were executed with
remarkable precision under the direction of _Bochmann_ the military
band-master. Then followed an appropriately conceived festal-play
called “Die Huldigung” (The Homage). The scene represented a handsome
park ornamented with statues, vases and garlands; in the back ground a
modest dwelling, but richly decorated with garlands of flowers: _The
house, in which Spohr was born_, in Brunswick. Gardeners and maidens
are busied in decorating the garden; to their question as to the
purpose and occasion of the festival the steward informs them, telling
them the name of the honoured jubilant, and in citing his works speaks
also of ‘Die letzten Dinge’ and ‘Der Fall Babylons.’

“All now set up a shout of joy, and from every part of the house
rang the enthusiastic cheers of the excited assembly. Upon this the
orchestra struck up the polonaise in “Faust,” while the committee of
the fete waited on _Spohr_ to conduct him to a throne of flowers, where
he was again greeted with a poetical address, and a crown of laurel
placed upon his head “as Apollo’s favoured son,” amid the joyful vivats
of the public. After the fete at the theatre was over, and he proceeded
to partake of a family supper at the house of his son-in-law _Wolff_,
he received late in the evening a brilliant serenade from the members
of the lyrical association, who had assembled before the house by the
light of numerous coloured lamps. The singing being concluded they then
sent up a deputation to present the diploma of an honorary member of
the society to the jubilant. Thus terminated this eventful day, but not
the festivities; for the following day brought further congratulatory
addresses in prosa and verse with honours of every kind, among which
the presentation of the freedom of the city from the chief magistrate
of Cassel, and as also worthy of mention, the gift of a costly silver
vase from the joint members of the orchestra and theatrical company,
presented by the committee of the festival.”

On the twenty-second of January another grand fete took place, given
as a surprise to their friend and master by the members of the quartet
circle, so frequently adverted to. After _Spohr_ had been conducted
with great ceremony into the presence of the company, composed of about
seventy persons, a congratulatory poem composed by Dr. _Oetker_ was
read.

The musical part of the fete which now followed consisted of _Spohr’s_
third double quartet, executed under the direction of his pupil _Jean
Bott_; of two of his incomparable songs with clarinet accompaniment,
sung by a distinguished dilettante; and the pianoforte quintet with
wind-instrument accompaniment. After the conclusion of these extremely
successful performances, all adjourned in the best spirits to the
supper-room, where, seasoned with toasts both of earnest and mirthful
import, the happy evening was brought to a close in an appropriate
manner.

The account of this jubilee published shortly after by _Fr. Oetker_
gave occasion at the same time to _Spohr_ for the commencement of
his autobiography. The author of that pamphlet having at the same
time expressed the intention of following it up with a detailed
account of his life, requested _Spohr_ to furnish him first with the
necessary notes; but he himself, while making the necessary sketch
of it, took so much pleasure in recalling the varied events of each
year as they presented themselves to his memory, that he conceived
the idea of preferring to undertake its full detail himself.[40]
With a lively interest he now immediately set himself to this work,
which nevertheless proceeded but slowly, when the impulse for musical
composition assumed again its mastery. He then first wrote six _pièces
de salon_ for violin and pianoforte, distinguished by the titles:
_Barcarole_, _Scherzo_, _Sarabande_, _Siciliano_, _Air varié_ and
_Mazurka_, collected in one volume as Op. 135, published by _J.
Schuberth_; these were followed by his fourth double quartet, and
some months later, at the express wish of the Philharmonic Society of
London, by the eighth symphony (_G minor_), which appeared at Leipzic
as Op. 137 (_Peters_), in score and arranged for four hands for the
pianoforte.

[40] From this somewhat accidental origin of _Spohr’s_ autobiography
it may be readily inferred, that it contains nothing more than a
faithful picture of his eventful life, interesting to the majority of
those who take a warm interest in his musical compositions; and that it
was not his intention in any manner to have it considered in the light
of a contribution to the history of art, nor as a critical opinion
of the works of his colleagues in art, which has been here and there
erroneously expected from this biography.

Subsequently also, _Spohr’s_ activity was unusually taxed at the
theatre, as he was required for the approaching Whitsuntide holidays
to prepare not only the usual opera but also (an exceptional case)
a grand concert, in which among other things his double symphony
and his first concertante were executed by himself and his pupil
_Jean Bott_. For Whitmonday a new opera, “Arria,” by _Hugo Stähle_,
had been selected, which as the maiden-work of a young composer who
had grown up amid them had greatly awakened the interest of all
lovers of music in Cassel. Already when a boy the young musician had
exhibited such prominent talent, that _Spohr_ was induced, at the
wish of his father, Major _Stähle_ of Cassel, to take him as a pupil
in composition. With constantly increasing interest he now watched
the progress of his talented pupil, who, already a good pianist, soon
tried his hand at greater pianoforte-compositions, among which a
quartet in _A major_ (Op. 1, published by _Schuberth_) is especially
remarkable as a success. Encouraged by this, he then, though not yet
one and twenty years of age, ventured under _Spohr’s_ guidance upon
the composition of music to the opera above named, written by his
friend _Jac. Hofmeister_, and that so fully satisfied _Spohr_, that
upon his pressing recommendation its performance was determined upon
and soon put in process of execution. Though _Spohr_ experienced real
satisfaction at the highly favourable reception this opera met with
from the public, and looked forward hopefully to a brilliant future
for the young composer, this first triumph was unhappily his last; for
after the lapse of a year, he was seized with an inflammatory fever,
which arrested his career of promise by an early death!

After _Spohr_ had several times deferred his last visit to England to
direct according to invitation the performance of some of his works,
he at length resolved in the summer of 1847, to yield once more to the
reiterated invitations he had received, and to direct the three grand
concerts, in which the Sacred Harmonic Society proposed to give the
whole of his sacred pieces--oratorios, psalms, &c. At the commencement
of the theatrical vacation he therefore set out, accompanied on the
journey to England by his wife and sister-in-law, and this time by way
of the interesting cities of Brussel and Ghent to Ostend, where he
proposed to embark. A letter written home adverts as follows to their
stay in Ghent: “On our way we had been informed that upon the very
day of our arrival a grand singing festival was to take place, of the
united Flemish and German lyrical societies; but as we did not arrive
here before 7 o’clock in the evening, some time after the chief part
of the concert had begun, we thought to avail ourselves of the fine
summer evening to take a walk through the town, which we found large
and handsome beyond our expectation. Scarcely however had we proceeded
above a hundred yards when _Spohr_ was recognised by some gentlemen,
who hastened towards him with the greatest surprise, and compelled
us almost by force to go with them and hear the second part of the
concert, the first part being just finished. In this manner we were all
three hurried into a fine building, the ‘Palais de Justice’ and stood
suddenly in the immense hall filled with several thousand persons,
when at the same moment one of the gentlemen who brought us in, a
member of the committee of the festival, with a loud voice called out:
‘Messieurs, le grand compositeur _Spohr_ vient d’arriver dans notre
ville, le voici!’ At this announcement the whole assembly rose from
their seats, and clapping their hands cried: ‘Vive _Spohr_, le grand
_Spohr_!’ and a perfect shower of flowers in the shape of bouquets
large and small were showered upon him from all sides. It was long
before the tumultuous applause ceased; meanwhile seats were yielded to
us in the best places, and there we sat somewhat out of countenance in
our dusty travelling costume in the midst of handsomely dressed ladies.
But the whole scene, from its very unexpectedness, had something
extremely original and almost overpowering about it. We then heard,
with the rest, the second part of the concert, in which the different
lyrical associations sung in part with, and partly without, orchestral
accompaniment. They all met with the most lively applause, which their
execution in reality also deserved.

“It lasted until past 9 o’clock, and then a crowd of persons pressed
forward to salute _Spohr_ and to speak to him, so that it was late
enough before we got home to supper, and retired to rest. But this was
again to be of short duration, for between 11 and 12 o’clock we heard
all manner of noises and preparations for a grand serenade, which the
Ghent society ‘Des Mélomanes’ had resolved upon giving to _Spohr_.
_Nolens volens_ he was obliged to get out of bed and dress anew not
only in acknowledgement of the fine music and tremendous vivats of the
assembled crowd, but also to receive a deputation, which at the solemn
midnight hour announced to him his nomination as honorary member of the
society,” &c.

Upon _Spohr’s_ arrival in London he and his travelling companions were
again hospitably received in the friendly family of Professor _Taylor_,
and for them now began in every respect a period of great enjoyment.
The oratorio performances in Exeter-Hall appointed for every Friday,
went off with their usual finished perfection; but the programme that
had been previously determined upon had suffered from the alteration,
that in place of the “Calvary,” which it was feared would here also
excite objection on the part of the clergy, a second performance of the
“Fall of Babylon” was announced; while in the third concert, as it had
been previously determined, “Die letzten Dinge,” the “Lord’s Prayer,”
and _Spohr’s_ recently composed 84th. Psalm after _Milton’s_ metrical
translation, were given. The enthusiasm at all the three concerts,
which was scarcely susceptible of increase on all that had previously
been shewn, was evinced this time more particularly by rapturous
encores of a great number of choruses and solo pieces. The intervening
days were passed in a no less satisfactory manner, in which all
emulated in affording some enjoyment, or in testifying their respect
for _Spohr_ in various ways. In varied and constant interchange,
invitations, festivities, promenades and railway excursions succeeded
each other, one of which extended as far as 70 English miles, to the
celebrated university city of Cambridge, with its grand and peculiar
style of architecture; and another to the city of Ely, remarkable for
its situation upon a beautiful and fruitful hill rising from the midst
of a low moorland, and yet more for its beautiful cathedral, considered
one of the finest specimens of Gothic architecture in England. In
this, as a remains of its former splendour, the finest ecclesiastical
psalmody is still chanted during divine service by sixteen singers
especially maintained for that purpose, and seldom in that solitary
place could perhaps be found hearers so devoutly attentive and edified
as were _Spohr_ and his travelling companions.

In pleasant reunions with the _Horsley_, _Benedict_ and _Taylor_
families, his most intimately known friends, _Spohr_ especially
passed many happy hours, in whose circles allied so intimately to art
and artists, fine music was a never-failing enjoyment, and in which
frequently, to the delight of his hearers, _Spohr_ contributed his
personal aid. The more decidedly however, did he decline every request
to perform in public, and in one exceptional instance only consented
to assist at a concert given in his honour by the _Beethoven_ quartet
society. The programme of this concert, which displayed the heading
“Homage to _Spohr_,” comprised however on this occasion nothing of
_Beethoven_, and three compositions of _Spohr_ only, selected from
different periods of his life, viz: 1st. A quartet (_G minor_), a
production of his early youth; 2dly. A duet composed about 20 years
later, played by _Joachim_ and _Sainton_ in a masterly manner, and
3rdly. The third double quartet (_E minor_), in which _Spohr_ took the
first violin part, and by his play and by the whole composition, the
first “number” of which alone had kindled the admiration of the public,
drew down a very storm of applause. The newspapers adverted in terms
of the highest praise to the selection of the three compositions and
to their separate beauties. Upon this occasion, respecting the duets
the “Times” said as follows: “These duets for two violins belong to
the greatest productions of _Spohr’s_ richly inventive genius. Out
of seemingly small materials the great composer has achieved harmonic
effects scarcely inferior in richness and fullness to the quartet. The
duet in _E flat_ is positively overflowing with beauties of melody and
counterpoint, a perfect masterpiece.”... And added further on: “The
double quartet in _E minor_ is one of _Spohr’s_ most surpassingly rich
compositions.... Every separate theme bears the stamp of genius, and is
worked out with a perfection of finish that displays the highest degree
of intelligence.”... “If _Spohr_ had never written anything else, his
fame would have been established by this work alone, as one of the
greatest composers in the world.”... “_Spohr_ plays now but seldom in
public, but both musicians, and the general public alike, eagerly seize
the rare opportunity of hearing the greatest violinist of the present
day. His style is a pattern of purity and taste.... He not alone
produces difficulties of every kind, and handles them with the ease of
mere play toys,--but in his execution displays moreover the full energy
and inspiration of youth.”...

The end of the vacation was now rapidly drawing near, and with it
once more the hour of parting; and on the last days of his sojourn so
manifold were the demands made upon his time and attention that all his
habitual calm self possession was taxed to the utmost. With heart and
mind impressed with happy and elevating reminiscences he returned to
his native country, where with his accustomed cheerfulness and zeal he
was soon re-engaged in the performance of the duties of his post.

In the beginning of November he was plunged into grief by the sudden
intelligence of the death of his friend _Mendelssohn_, deeply lamenting
whose loss both as a man and a musician, he expressed himself as
follows in a letter to _M. Hauptmann_: “What might _Mendelssohn_ in
the full maturity of his genius not have written, had fate permitted
him a longer life! For his delicate frame the mental exertion was
too great and therefore destructive! His loss to art is much to be
lamented, for he was the most gifted of then living composers, and his
efforts in art were of the noblest!”--His next thought was to institute
a festival _in memoriam_ of the too early departed one, but as he
received for answer to his proposal to that effect, from the intendant
of the court theatre, that: “the proposed festival in memory of the
deceased could not be permitted at the concerts of the court theatre,
as it did not find approval in the highest quarters,” he determined to
give it on a smaller scale at a private concert in celebration of the
25th. anniversary of the St. Cecilia society on the 22nd. November,
and upon the occasion to inaugurate the fete with a poem composed for
the occasion with a chorus from _Mendelssohn’s_ “Paulus.” But after
everything had been arranged for the best and the grand rehearsal been
held, intelligence was suddenly received of the dangerous illness of
the Elector Wilhelm II., who resided in Frankfort, which was followed
by that of his death, and the order for a general mourning throughout
the Electorate and a desistance from every kind of music on the
following days. Hereupon, after a delay of a month, the performance of
the projected festival was again about to take place, and _Spohr_ had
once more fixed the day for it, when death once more intervened--this
time afflicting his own family with a very painful loss. On the 18th.
December _Spohr’s_ mother-in-law was seized with illness, and after a
few days’ suffering was snatched from the disconsolate family to which
she had been bound by ties of the tenderest affection. The Christmas
holidays, which had usually been with them a period of happy festivity,
were now changed to days of gloom and mourning, and the more so from
the circumstance that Mr. _Pfeiffer_ (father) was laid on a sick-bed
by the unexpected blow, and the happy reunion in the paternal house,
where _Spohr_ always felt so happy, and so well knew how to make others
so, seemed to be interrupted for a long time, if not for ever! The
subsequent weeks passed amid cares and anxieties, and not until his
father-in-law’s convalescence could _Spohr_ think of celebrating the
long-prepared-for festival.

The programme was so arranged, that it presented in chronological
order twelve music pieces of _Bach_, _Händel_, _Haydn_, _Mozart_,
_Beethoven_, _Hauptmann_, _Mendelssohn_ and _Spohr_, as specimens of
the style of each of those masters, to whose works the St. Cecilia
society during its existence of twenty-five years had especially
devoted its efforts. After the last song piece but one: “Wir preisen
selig die” &c., from “Paulus,” a poem was recited, entitled: Feeling of
sorrow upon the early death of _Felix Mendelssohn-Bartholdy_.

This was followed by the presentation of a double breast-pin set with
diamonds, accompanied with a poetical address to _Spohr_--the subject
represented by the pin being a violin, and bass-clef. A “Hymn to
_Spohr_,” composed by _H. Stähle_, was then sung; and in conclusion,
at the banquet which followed, a discourse was delivered relative to
the origin and services of the society for the prosperity of which the
speaker himself (Mr. _Weinrich_), in the triple character of singer,
librarian, and treasurer, had laboured with unwearied zeal for many
years.

In 1848, shortly after the outbreak of the disturbances in France,
_Spohr_, somewhat under the influence of ideas of liberty, &c.,
composed his sextet for two violins, two viols and two violincellos
(Op. 140, published by _C. Luckhardt_ of Cassel), on making entry of
which in the list of his compositions, he appended the words: “Written
in March and April, at the time of the glorious revolution of the
peoples for the liberty, unity and grandeur of Germany.” And this
composition, so rich in freshness of melodies, in genuine ætherial
harmony, that scarcely any other of _Spohr’s_ works surpasses it,
furnishes an eloquent testimony to the state of his feelings and his
aspirations, which, soaring above the storms of the present, speak
only of peace, hope and concord, as in spirit he beheld them spring
out of the momentary struggles. Satisfied as _Spohr_ might feel with
this composition--the first since the dawning of the new æra upon
Germany--he nevertheless for some time wholly abandoned all further
composition, feeling, as he complained in a letter to his friend
_Hauptmann_, that “the excitement of politics and the constant reading
of the newspapers incapacitated him from giving his attention to any
serious and quiet study.”

On the 6th. August a grand popular festival took place in Cassel, which
kept the whole of the inhabitants in a state of joyous mobility for the
day. It commenced early in the morning, with the public recognition of
the imperial administrator by the garrison assembled upon the “Forst.”
This was followed by the consecration and presentation of colours to
the newly-formed corps of body-guards, combined with a grand church
service in the presence of the Electoral family upon the Bowling-green
in the Karlsaue, and in the afternoon there was a people’s festival,
in which the whole population of Cassel--a mixed troop of all
classes--flocked to the Aue, either as participators in, or spectators
of, the popular games, the dancing and the music. Towards evening, to
the surprise of everybody the Elector, in plain black dress-coat, was
seen threading his way among the joyous crowd, with looks expressive
of the cheerful interest with which he acknowledged the cheers of the
people who thronged every part of the park. The festivities of the day
were terminated by a concert under _Spohr’s_ direction, executed by the
singers and members of the choral societies of Cassel in front of the
orangery, at which also the Elector appeared, and after a lengthened
conversation with _Spohr_, asked him expressly for the song “Was ist
des Deutschen Vaterland.”

In June 1849 _Spohr_ set out for Carlsbad, and stopped on his way
thither a few days at Leipzic, where in the circle of his musical
friends, he again passed many happy hours devoted to his noble art.
On the first evening, at the house of his friend Mr. _Vogt_, two of
his latest and as yet unpublished compositions--the fourth double
quartet (_G minor_) and the but recently finished 31st. quartet (_C
major_)--both of which were subsequently published by _C. Luckhardt_
in Cassel as Op. 136 and 141. The double quartet was received more
especially with such warm admiration, that _Spohr_ gratified the wish
expressed by several of his auditors to repeat it once more on the
following day at the conservatory before a large circle, among whom
were the teachers and pupils of that institution. On the last evening,
his old friend _Moscheles_ prepared for him a brilliant fête, and
embellished the musical part of it by his own masterly performance of
_Spohr’s_ first trio, and his pianoforte quintet with wind instruments,
after which the strains of a choral song, “Honour to _Spohr_,” were
suddenly heard from the garden in front of the house, and some of his
four-part songs, some of _Mendelssohn’s_ and some of _Hauptmann’s_,
were executed in a most effective manner.

The now ensuing stay in Carlsbad, extending to several weeks, was
upon this occasion particularly pleasant in many respects. In the
intercourse with several distinguished men well known for their
public activity, _Spohr_ took great pleasure. Among these especially
were _Hansemann_ of Berlin and _Simson_ of Königsberg, to the latter
of whom, from the thorough community of sentiment in their mutual
political creed, he was especially attracted. As both men evinced at
the same time a warm love of music, they, together with their families
were soon admitted into the small circle of the elect who had the
_entrée_ to the musical performances of _Spohr_ and his wife. With
these and other charming families the afternoons were then passed in
excursions on all sides into the beautiful environs, in which _Spohr_,
although long since well acquainted with every spot, always experienced
a new delight and one equally shared by his wife.

From his stay in Carlsbad _Spohr_ also experienced the most desirable
benefit to his health, resulting in so complete and permanent
a relief to the liver complaint which had recurred at previous
frequent intervals, that, grateful as he felt for the pleasant and
health-restoring time he had passed there, he had now no further
necessity to resort to the wonderful efficacity of its waters.

Strengthened and refreshed in body and mind, he returned to Cassel,
and shortly afterwards began the composition of his fifth pianoforte
trio (_C minor_, Op. 141, published by _Schuberth_ in Hamburg); which
was followed by three duets for two soprani, published by _Peters_ of
Leipzic, which for their sweetly expressive melodies and their ease of
performance, like those which had previously appeared from the pen of
_Mendelssohn_, soon became favorite pieces in musical circles.

Towards the end of the year 1849 _Spohr_ was afflicted by a heavy
sorrow, in the sudden illness that befell his wife the day after
Christmas Day, and which increased so much in severity as to imperil
her life at the entry of the new year. At length, however, her good
and unimpaired constitution, aided by the most unremitting care,
overcame her malady, and _Spohr_ hailed once more with delight the day
when she could again resume her accustomed seat by his side at the
dinner-table. But on the next day (January 22) an untoward accident
befell himself. While on his usual daily way to the theatre rehearsal,
a sharp unexpected frost having set in during the night, he slipped,
and fell with such violence as to inflict a very severe blow on his
head, from the consequence of which the unremitting care of his
experienced medical attendant Dr. _Harnier_ did not re-establish him
till after the lapse of several weeks. Shortly after his recovery, he
wrote his ninth symphony, “Die Jahreszeiten” (The Seasons), the plan of
which had much occupied his mind during his illness, and as he himself
complained, “regularly haunted him during the long sleepless and
feverish nights.” He gave in so far a new form to it, that he divided
it into two grand themes, with the designations: Part I.: Winter,
transition to spring, spring. Part II.: Summer, transition to autumn,
autumn. Although _Spohr_ wrote the symphony in the dull cold days of
winter, the result nevertheless was just the least characteristic of
his _winterly_ intentions. While in the _spring_ theme every note rings
joyous with the glad awaking of nature,--in that of _summer_, the
sultry heat is expressed in tones the effect of which is such, that
the astonished hearer positively seems to _feel_ it--and lastly the
_autumn_, with its exhilarating music of the chase, and the masterly
interwoven Rheinweinlied (vintage song of the Rhine)--can scarcely fail
in inspiring the hearer with the most lively enthusiasm.

About this time _Spohr_, with every lover of music in Cassel,
experienced great pleasure from the visit of a young female artiste
nearly related to him. This was _Rosalie Spohr_, the second daughter
of his brother _William_. From early childhood she had evinced a
passionate love of music, and subsequently devoted herself with
unwearying zeal to the study of the harp. Although at first it was not
the wish of her parents that their daughter should perform in public,
yet when they had subsequently become convinced of her real artistic
talent, they could no longer oppose her ardent wishes, and at the age
of 22 she proceeded, accompanied by her father, upon her first musical
tour. After she had given proof of her abilities in several public
performances at Hamburg and Leipzic, she visited Cassel, where she
played several times in private circles, and at one concert at the
theatre under the direction of _Spohr_, on which occasion she not only
earned the warmest approbation of a delighted auditory but a yet more
gratifying reward in the commendatory words of her highly-esteemed
uncle. The young musician subsequently achieved many a brilliant
triumph in her further visits to the larger cities of Germany and
Holland; but her promising artistic career was shortly brought to an
unexpectedly early termination, first by deaths in her immediate family
circle, and afterwards by her marriage with count _Xavier Sauerma_.

During the summer vacation, in order at length to pay his long-promised
visit to Breslau, _Spohr_ proceeded thither by way of Leipzic in the
hope of hearing _Schumann’s_ new opera of “Genoveva;” but to his great
regret, upon his arrival there, he was informed of the delays that
had intervened to defer its performance, and was obliged to content
himself with attending several rehearsals, but which, on account of the
frequently interrupting repetitions, could naturally afford him but
a very imperfect conception of the whole work. Although by no means
an admirer of the compositions of _Schumann_ so far known to him, in
which he had frequently found a want of euphony and melodious breadth
of harmonies, he formed a very favourable opinion of the opera, and it
especially pleased him to observe that the same method of treatment
which he had resorted to in the composition of the “Crusader” had been
followed, in that _Schumann_ did not permit the unnatural interruption
of the action by a wearisome and constant repetition of words. It was
no less interesting to _Spohr_ to become acquainted with some of his
larger pianoforte compositions, the desired opportunity for which was
afforded him at the musical parties given to him, at which Mrs. _Clara
Schumann_ played a trio and pianoforte-concerto of her husband’s with
the most finished excellence, with which exception all the rest were
compositions of _Spohr’s_, among which the sextet he wrote during the
March revolution: and at an extra-concert at the Gewandhaus his newest
symphony, “The seasons,” was performed to the great delight of all who
heard it.

The remainder of his stay in Breslau, which was there expressively
designated as a “fortnight-long _Spohr_ festival,” was a continuous
round of entertainments, musical soirées, &c. The “Neue Oder-Zeitung”
describes _Spohr’s_ advent as “an event, that had set all the educated
classes of the town in commotion,” and further adds: “Everybody crowds
forward to see the German master--all are anxious to say that they
have at least had the satisfaction of a personal meeting. There is a
peculiar gratification in standing opposite to the man who, though his
eye rests upon us with the coldness of the stranger, has been long
known to us in spirit as one of our best and dearest friends--whose
works have recalled to us the golden dreams of our youth, and whose
noble creations purify our souls. All in Germany who love music and who
play, recognise the master to whom as musicians they are indebted for a
great part of their culture, for many elevating feelings, many hours of
happiness. Is it then to be wondered at that every one crowds around
the master--that all are ready to acquit part of that debt to him by
loud and honourable acknowledgements?”

His festive reception, which commenced at the very railway station,
was followed in the evening by a grand serenade and procession by
torch-light, for which all the musical and choral societies of Breslau
had met to execute the choicest pieces of music, chiefly selected from
_Spohr’s_ operas, and which at intervals they gave singly, or executed
in combination and _en masse_. At the grand concert that took place
under his own direction at the spacious and handsome Aula, his own
compositions alone were given: Overture to and air from “_Faust_,” the
third symphony, with the “Lord’s Prayer;” and the “Breslauer Zeitung”
designates it as “a musical festival singular in its kind in the city
of Breslau, for that _Spohr_ at the present time was the _only_ one who
had so much distinguished himself in every kind of composition, that
the church, the concert room, and the theatre, could equally boast of
his works; and that such a performance by such united powers (singing
academy, theatrical orchestra, society of musicians, &c.) had never
yet taken place there.” At the different banquets that were given to
_Spohr_, his music in various ways formed part of the entertainment,
and the songs that were written in his honour for the occasion had been
adapted to appropriate melodies of his, which greatly increased their
effect and frequently took the company by surprise.

At the express wish of the friends of music of Breslau, he determined
to assist personally at a concert given in the smaller saloon of the
Aula, before a great number of musical amateurs who had been invited;
in his sextet and third double quartet, of which the “Breslauer
Zeitung” speaks with much enthusiasm, and after dwelling upon the
generally acknowledged specialities of his play, says further: “that
the master at his _present age_ still possesses all those specialities;
that he plays with the fire and energy of a young man, and throws
off the greatest difficulties with a power and boldness that are
astonishing--that it is a thing quite _unusual_ and was never seen
there before.”

On the part of the directors of the theatre the happy selection of
_Spohr’s_ opera “Zemire und Azor” was made in his honour, which, with
its charming melodies, never fails to make the most pleasing impression
on the public on the first time of hearing; and with its music so truly
appropriate to its subject, opens to us as it were the bright world
of fairy land, which although more than ever fading away from the
materialistic age in which we live, yet idealised by such sweet sounds,
can never lose its fascination for the mind. This effect was produced
on this occasion in Breslau also, as demonstrated by the brilliant
reception with which it was welcomed, and the generally expressed
wish for its speedy repetition under _Spohr’s_ direction, who then
also experienced great pleasure in those two fine performances of his
work.--He was no less gratified by the organ concert given him by his
friend _Hesse_ in the fine church of St. Bernard, in which he exhibited
his great mastery of that grand instrument in every possible manner.
Devoted admirer and adherent of _Spohr_ as he was, he was still loathe
to part from him, when after a fortnight passed in Breslau he departed
with the purpose of making an excursion in the Riesengebirge with his
wife. As a guide intimate with the localities _Hesse_ accompanied
them, and was not a little gratified in witnessing the feelings of
delight with which _Spohr_ was impressed by the natural beauties of his
Silesian fatherland. Neither was music, loved music forgotten, for it
was not only the subject of daily discourse, but in the Riesengebirge
itself the powerful serenades of the music chorists of Warmbrunn and
Hirschberg greeted their master, _Spohr_.--The return journey to Cassel
was made _viâ_ Berlin, where _Spohr_ found an invitation from the
conservatory, which, although but thinly composed in summer, performed
nevertheless a part of his oratorio “Calvary” and his psalms with
double chorus in a brilliant manner, by way of compensation both to
themselves and him for his inability to comply with the invitation
they had given him almost every winter to come and either personally
direct or hear his oratorio.

Meanwhile the political state of Germany, and more particularly of
Hesse greatly grieved _Spohr_, and as the best consolation he abandoned
himself to his musical studies, the zest for which did not leave him
even in this time of trouble and sorrow. In the course of the months
of October and November he composed his seventh quintet for stringed
instruments (_G minor_, Op. 144, published by _Peters_), and three
songs from “One thousand and one days in the East,” by _Bodenstedt_
(also published by _Peters_).

It was in the summer of this year that _Spohr_ experienced the malice
and chicanery of the court. He had intended to start the first
day of his vacation for a tour in Switzerland and upper Italy. He
accordingly sent in his request to the Elector, which he considered a
mere pro-formâ matter. To _Spohr’s_ great surprise the answer was in
the negative--no leave of absence would be granted. Hereupon _Spohr_
set off without leave. He passed through the _Via Mala_, over the
Splügen to Milan and Venice, and returned over the St. Gotthard pass
to Lucern, and so back to Cassel, where he arrived before the vacation
had expired. After a short repose he availed himself of the remaining
time to pay a long-promised visit to _Wehner_ the director of the
orchestra at Göttingen, who, conjointly with all the lovers of music at
that place, used every exertion to do honour and afford gratification
to their esteemed guest. A serenade given by the members of the choral
society on the first evening of his arrival was followed on the next
morning by a musical greeting performed by the band of the regiment
lying at Nordheim in the immediate neighbourhood. At a grand concert
given at the Aula _Spohr_ directed in person his symphony “Die Weihe
der Töne,” which was followed by his potpourri on themes from Jessonda,
performed by one of his most distinguished pupils, _Auguste Kömpel_,
who when a boy had awakened the warmest interest on the part of _Spohr_
by his remarkable talent, and after having studied under him for
several years with the greatest success, was first appointed a member
of the court orchestra at Cassel and subsequently Kammermusicus and
member of the royal orchestra at Hanover.[41] As finale to the concert
_Mendelssohn’s_ music to Athalia, combined with a melodramatic poem,
was executed by the members of the Göttingen choral society; and thus
_Spohr_, who had been present at its grand rehearsal with the greatest
interest, had the much desired opportunity of becoming acquainted with
the only one of the grander lyrical compositions of _Mendelssohn_
which he had not yet heard. On the following day there was also some
excellent music.

[41] To him, as a true representative of the _Spohr_ school was the
preference given over all the competitors who bid in emulation of each
other and at very high prices for the highly coveted Stradivari violin
of his honoured master; and which became his property one year after
the decease of the latter.

_Wehner_ had made arrangements for quartet music at his own house, and
previous to a large dinner party, which he gave as a mark of respect
to _Spohr_, some exceedingly fine music was performed with the most
finished excellence, and to the delight of all present _Spohr_ himself
took part in his own sextet. The dinner was seasoned by a succession of
appropriate toasts and piquante speeches, the chief subjects of which
were music and politics, and lastly also “_Spohr’s_ bold stroke”--the
journey without leave--was drank amid the clang of glasses and the
enthusiastic cheers of the company, who highly approved of the spirit
he had shown. But the “bold stroke” was, as may be imagined, considered
with much less approbation in Cassel, and a few weeks after _Spohr’s_
return he was officially required by the general-intendant to explain
and justify “his absence from Cassel without leave.” His explanation
was considered unsatisfactory, and he was condemned to pay a fine of
550 thaler (82 _l._ 10 _s._). He went to law; but the end of it was
that he paid the money, which was handed over to the pension fund
instituted by him.

       *       *       *       *       *

It was in the midst of these troubles that he wrote a series of six
_pieces de salon_ for violin and piano and the 32nd. violin quartet
(Op. 145 and 146; Leipzig, _Peters_).

In the beginning of the year 1852 _Spohr_ received a visit from the
director of the Italian opera in London, Mr. _Gye_, who proposed to
him to direct there his opera of “Faust” during his summer vacation,
and for that purpose to write a connecting recitative instead of the
dialogue in the original, by which means alone the urgent wish of the
Queen for the performance of the opera on the Italian stage could be
gratified. As _Spohr_ at first considered that such a change would be
impossible in many of the scenes, he felt compelled to decline the
proposal; but they were not so easily to be pacified in London by so
unexpected an answer, and after receiving several further pressing
letters upon the subject, _Spohr_ set himself to work, and, contrary
to his own expectation, with such satisfactory results, that after its
completion he expressed himself upon the subject in a letter of the
21st. May to _Hauptmann_ in the following words: “You have no doubt
already heard that at the express wish of the Queen of England and of
Prince Albert I have remodelled my opera “Faust” for the grand opera.
This work has afforded me great pleasure, and agreeably engaged me for
a period of three months, in which I have been as it were transported
completely back to the happy days of my youth in Vienna. At first,
with the assistance of my wife, I had to alter the dialogue scenes
in such a manner as to adapt them to composition. In doing this I
have endeavoured to impart more interest to them than they previously
possessed, and to make elision of those things which from the first had
displeased me at many performances I had seen of this opera. I think
and hope that I have succeeded in both. I had then to replace myself
as it were in the same mood, and style in which I wrote Faust, and I
hope that I have succeeded in this also, and that no one will observe
a difference of style between the old and the new. The opera consists
now of three acts; the second concludes with the wedding scene, and
the third begins with a new entr’acte, which depicts with reminiscences
from the trio of the torch-dance and the witches’ music the night of
debauch passed by Faust, and then passes into a grand recitative by
Mephistopheles, to which his air in _E major_ is connected. After the
disappearance of the witches a recitative by Faust follows, blended
with intonations of former and later conception, and hereupon a shorter
one between him and _Wagner_, which is succeeded by the concluding
finale. My curiosity is now intense to hear the opera in its new form!
Should nothing come of the journey to London, I hope to hear it soon
at Weimar, as _Lisst_ has asked for it in its new form for the court
theatre there.”--The new recitatives thus reached London so early, that
weeks before _Spohr’s_ arrival there the study of the parts could be
commenced; but at the first rehearsal he remarked that the in every
other respect so greatly distinguished Italian singers, were not all
he could have desired in their comprehension of this to them wholly
foreign style of music, for which reason he immediately ordered daily
thorough rehearsals under his own direction, in which he soon had the
satisfaction of seeing that the whole of the singers entered more and
more into the conception and spirit of his musical intentions, and
submitted with the greatest willingness to his every nod, until every
thing went so faultlessly that after the four last grand rehearsals
which took place, and the lapse of three weeks, it was possible to give
a perfect public performance.

To avoid all seeming reiteration of the numerous musical events and
marks of respect, that in the interim were shewn to _Spohr_ on this
visit, it will suffice to mention one agreeable surprise only of
which _Spohr_ used to speak with delight in after years. This was the
magnificent performance of his oratorio “Calvary” (des Heilands letzte
Stunden) at Exeter Hall, under the excellent conducting of _Costa_; and
which, performed by greater masses of assistants than at the memorable
Norwich festival (700 singers and musicians), completely overpowered
_Spohr_ himself, as well as the enthusiastically delighted public; in
so much, that he was obliged to agree in the remark of his friends,
that the effect in many parts, especially that of the powerfully
imposing choruses, was more immense than the composer himself had even
conceived.

On Sundays, on which days, according to English custom, the theatres
are closed, there are no concerts, and even all private music is
hushed, _Spohr_ gladly availed himself of the invitations he received
to make excursions far away from the gigantic town, to recruit his
energies somewhat in the fresh air, from the daily musical fatigue and
excitement. Sometimes it was to Clapham and Kensington, on a visit to
the _Sillem_ and _Horsley_ families; sometimes farther by railway to
Sir _George Smart’s_ pleasant country-house at Chertsey, which _Spohr_
always called “the little paradise;” or to Professor _Owen’s_ in
Richmond-park; from which he always returned requickened in mind and
body to the wear and tear of London life. _Owen’s_ charming residence
and his amiable manners were always subjects of agreeable recollection
to _Spohr_, and he would often relate how the celebrated naturalist, in
his kindly unassuming manner, would come out to welcome him on a hot
summer’s day, clad in a light summer jacket and a broad-brimmed straw
hat, but in honour of “his welcome renowned guest,” decorated with the
Prussian order “pour le mérite,” and then till late in the evening
devise every possible means of affording him pleasure and entertainment.

Meanwhile the rehearsals of Faust had prospered so well, that on the
15th. July the first public performance took place under _Spohr’s_
direction, and a letter written home refers to it in the following
manner:

“The opera went off incomparably well, and made a wonderfully powerful
effect upon everybody. Indeed to us also it appeared in quite a new
light--everything was so grand, so splendid! The new additional themes
blend charmingly with the whole, and present singularly fine effects.
Decorations, scenery, all are new, exceedingly brilliant and got up
at great expense: orchestra, singers, and chorus, did their best,
so that the Londoners say, that they have not seen so splendid an
operatic performance for many years; and it was received throughout
also with the most enthusiastic applause. That the foreign (almost all
Italian) singers would have sung this German music with so much zest
and pleasure, we could scarcely have believed possible. Those who most
distinguished themselves were Mrs. _Castellan_ (Kunigunda), _Ronconi_
(Faust), _Formes_ (Mephistopheles), and _Tamberlik_ (Hugo). The latter
charmed every body, for he has a splendid tenor voice with immense
power, and he executed the beautiful air, accompanied by a magnificent
chorus of forty male voices, with such fire and irresistible power
that a _da capo_ was called for by general acclamation. And _Formes_
also, in his song in _A major_, which had greatly gained by the newly
composed exceedingly beautiful introduction and recitative scene....
The whole house was in ecstacy, and in the intervals between the
acts, and at the end, _Spohr_ was warmly congratulated by a host of
friends and admirers.” With similar success and with yet more perfect
execution, the second and third performance of Faust, under _Spohr’s_
direction, took place within a few days; after which he once more left
England, accompanied to the place of embarcation by numerous lovers of
music, who up to the last moment projected the most inviting plans for
the next summer.

Agreeably impressed with the successful issue of his journey, he
returned to Germany, picturing to himself the happy hours in which,
as was his custom, he should again relate amid the expectant circle
at home the interesting incidents of his visit. But this time the
pleasure of once more meeting the members of his family was but too
soon overshadowed, and _Spohr_ beheld with much alarm the suffering
constitution of his father-in-law, whose declining bodily strength
had for some time past excited the utmost anxiety; but which assumed
appearances so threatening during the last few weeks, that the anxious
members of his family, despite their tender care and hopefulness,
could no longer deceive themselves as to the near approach of his
dissolution. With sorrowing hearts they beheld with every day the
nearer approach of the long-dreaded moment; till on the 4th. October
1852, the loved and honoured parent breathed his last. This sad event
cast an enduring shadow over _Spohr’s_ life, for with his wife he not
only lamented the loss of the beloved father, but mourned thenceforth
that of the truthful friend whose feelings and sentiments had been so
congenial with his own.

       *       *       *       *       *

In the autumn of 1852 the duties of _Spohr’s_ office were unexpectedly
much alleviated by the nomination of a second director; an appointment
which indeed, with his great activity and as yet unimpaired powers,
he had never contemplated as a thing to be desired; but which was
nevertheless the more agreeable to him from the circumstance that
the newly-created appointment was given to his favorite pupil,
concert-master _Jean Bott_, in order to secure his rejection of the
post of musical director at Hanover, which had been offered to him
under very favourable circumstances. By this means the Cassel court
orchestra was saved the loss of so distinguished a member, and his
services were fully secured. _Spohr_ consented also very willingly
to the requisitions of the managers of the theatre to abandon to the
direction of the new co-director the operas proposed, and suggested but
few modifications in this arrangement. By this means _Bott_ assumed the
direction of a number of light operas, chiefly French and Italian, but
undertook as heretofore to lead as first violin in the orchestra under
_Spohr’s_ direction in all grand German operas, which were reserved
to the latter. The repertory of the new and zealous co-director soon
received an interesting addition, for in the beginning of the year
1853 _Shakspeare’s_ “Midsummernight’s Dream,” with _Mendelssohn’s_
music, was performed on the Cassel stage for the first time; on which
occasion _Spohr_ expressed himself in the following words in a letter
to _Hauptmann_: “The most charming music that I know of _Mendelssohn_
is indeed his music to the “Midsummernight’s Dream,” which has at
length been performed here also, and right well. _Bott_ practised
the orchestra in the music most assiduously, and for me it was a
great enjoyment to be enabled for once to listen as auditor to the
performance of good music.” In regard to _Spohr’s_ own labours the same
letter then speaks further: “We are now studying ‘Tannhäuser,’ (which
the Elector has at length permitted), and we shall give that opera for
the first time on Whitmonday. It will be put on the stage with the
greatest care and both decorations and costumes will be rich. There is
much that is new and beautiful in the opera, but much also that is most
distressing to the ear. For the violins and basses it is more difficult
than anything I ever yet met with,” &c.

After the first performances of this difficult work had passed off
in the most successful manner, _Spohr_ wrote again respecting it to
his friend _Hauptmann_: “‘Tannhäuser’ was performed last night for
the third time, and again to a full house. The opera has gained many
admirers, by reason of its earnestness and its subject-matter, and when
I compare it with others produced of late years, I am also of their
way of thinking. With much of what was at first very disagreeable to
me I have become familiarised from frequent hearing; but the want of
rhythm, and the frequent absence of rounded periods is still to me very
objectionable. The manner in which it is performed here is really very
fine, and in few places in Germany can be heard with such precision.
In the enormously difficult ‘ensembles’ of the singers in the second
act, not one single note was omitted last night. But with all that, in
several parts these assume a shape which make a downright horrifying
music, particularly just before the part previous to where Elizabeth
throws herself upon the singers who rush upon Tannhäuser.--What faces
would _Haydn_ and _Mozart_ make, were they obliged to hear the stunning
noise that is now given to us for music!--The choruses of pilgrims
(but which are here supported by clarinets and bassoons _p_.) were
intonated so purely last night, that I became somewhat reconciled for
the first time to their unnatural modulations. It is astonishing what
the human ear will by degrees become accustomed to!” &c.

Although, as may be inferred from the above remarks, _Spohr_, with his
preminent sentiment for harmony and beautiful, regular forms in music,
could not readily reconcile himself to the tonic creations of more
modern times, which so frequently deviate from them, he nevertheless
took a lively interest in them, and was so anxious to become acquainted
with _Wagner’s_ newest opera “Lohengrin,” that while awaiting the
as yet witheld permission of the Elector for a full theatrical
performance, he determined upon giving some scenes from it at the
ensuing winter concerts, and wrote to _Hauptmann_ on the subject as
follows: “If you wish to afford us a pleasure by sending something for
our winter concerts, let me ask of you the music to ‘Lohengrin.’ I was
in correspondence with _Wagner_ this summer, and he knows that I am
exerting myself to put that opera upon the stage here, also. He will
therefore have no objection to a performance of some scenes beforehand.
I shall write to inform him of it also upon a fitting occasion, but I
do not like to renew the correspondence on the subject, without being
empowered to ask at the same time for the score for our theatre, which
will not be before next summer, for the birthday of the Elector.” This
expectation was nevertheless not realised, for the Elector’s permission
was neither granted for the day appointed, nor upon a subsequent
reiterated solicitation; and in this manner _Spohr_ was never enabled
to hear this opera, which both in Cassel and other places he had
repeatedly striven to do.

With the approach of the vacation of the summer 1853 _Spohr_ made
preparation once more (for the sixth and last time) for the journey
to England, whence in the month of January he had received, (and as
chance would have it upon the same day) two letters of invitation from
two wholly different parties. One, from the theatre-director _Gye_,
contained a recapitulation of the plan formed in the previous summer,
of bringing out an Italian translation of _Spohr’s_ “Jessonda” during
the approaching season; the other, from Dr. _Wylde_, the director of
the recently instituted New Philharmonic Society, contained a pressing
invitation to _Spohr_, to undertake the direction of the grand concerts
which the society contemplated giving during the summer months. The
latter attractive invitation was the one that decided his yet wavering
resolution, since it was of the greatest interest to him to procure a
hearing for his grander orchestral compositions, which would there be
performed with all that power which was already known to him, before
a public who, like all the performers, understood so thoroughly the
spirit of his music.

Scarcely had he arrived in London than an agreeable musical surprise
awaited him, for on his first visit to Dr. _Wylde_ he was pressed
by him to proceed immediately to a morning concert then about to
take place, and arrived there just in time to hear an excellent
performance of his nonett, and at the conclusion was warmly greeted
by the audience, to whom the announcement of the presence of the
composer was both an agreeable and sudden surprise. Under similar
circumstances he was present the next evening at the last Philharmonic
concert in the Hanover Square Rooms, where he was greatly gratified
by the very successful performance of his historical symphony, which
was enthusiastically applauded. A few days afterwards the first of
the concerts of the New Philharmonic Society took place under his
personal direction, of which mention is made as follows in a letter
written home: “Last evening _Spohr_ consummated the first of his great
achievements; the direction of the fine New Philharmonic concerts in
Exeter-Hall, where he was again received with the same enthusiasm as
formerly, and which was manifested throughout the whole performance.
We found our exalted expectations of this gigantic orchestra, wholly
composed of musicians of high standing, fully realised, and the
impression made by the immense mass in the spacious and densely
crowded hall was truly grand and imposing. Even the ninth symphony of
_Beethoven_, abnormal as are many things therein, and especially the
last subject, with the ‘song to pleasure,’ executed in the finished
manner it was, afforded a real enjoyment. _Spohr’s_ ‘Overture in the
severe style’ opened the concert, and had a grand effect; as also that
of ‘Jessonda,’ which was even encored. This was followed by the tenor
song in ‘Jessonda,’ splendidly sung by _Th. Formes_, and received with
tumultuous applause,” &c.

Not less interesting also was the programme of the last concert
directed by _Spohr_; it comprised besides his own compositions--a
quartet concerto, a double symphony, and the overture to the “Mountain
Sprite,”--the _D major_ symphony of _Beethoven_, the overture
to “Fidelio,” the duet for two pianofortes of _Mendelssohn_ and
_Moscheles_ (executed by Miss _Claus_ and Miss _Goddard_), and some
other pieces. The performance of the whole of the pieces of music
was all that could be desired, and in regard to the fine effect of
_Spohr’s_ symphony, a letter specially remarks: “The double symphony
seemed as though it had been written expressly for such orchestral
powers and for this place. The lesser orchestra was, in accordance with
several trials made at the rehearsal, placed high up above, and apart;
and sometimes between the powerful and imposing masses of tone of the
larger orchestra it sounded really like music from another sphere.”

The chief object of _Spohr’s_ journey to London was thus once more
fully achieved: but on the other hand the projected performance
of “Jessonda” during the same time, met with numerous unexpected
obstacles. In order to allow _Spohr_ the number of rehearsals he
considered necessary for the study of the work, another opera, also
a newly studied one, “Benvenuto Cellini,” by _Berlioz_, was selected
for performance during the intervening opera nights; and as is the
custom, was to be repeated several times without further rehearsal.
But upon the very first night of its performance, it met with a
very unfavourable reception from the public, and _Spohr_ himself,
interested as he felt to hear this much-talked-of music, respecting
which opinions were so conflicting, was not much edified thereby, as
appears from a letter written to his friend Mr. _Lüder_: “In the opera
of _Berlioz_, which I heard in London this summer, there are some fine
things, but scarcely has one begun to feel interested in it, than there
comes a something so bizarre and harsh, that all the pleasure one has
felt is destroyed. I have a special hatred of this eternal speculating
upon extraordinary instrumental effects, for his opera contains without
doubt many really happy conceptions both melodic and dramatic, and
these are always marred by them. This it was also that displeased the
London public, which was at first very favourably disposed towards
him, and received him upon his entering the orchestra with loud
applause; but as the opera proceeded their dissatisfaction increased,
until at length, upon its conclusion, the audience broke out into one
general storm of hisses and whistling; a circumstance never known to
have occured before at the Italian opera in London in presence of the
Queen!--It is with _Berlioz_ as with all the other coryphées of the
music of the future; they do not abandon themselves to their natural
feelings in their work, but speculate on things which have never yet
been. That is the reason why these gifted musicians seldom write
anything that is enjoyable, particularly for people who in the last
century grew up in the knowledge of _Haydn_, _Mozart_ and _Beethoven_,”
&c. With so explicit an opinion as that pronounced by the London
public, the theatrical direction did not dare risk a second performance
of the opera, and other operas were obliged to be substituted, which
required also several rehearsals, and “Jessonda,” which was as yet
only in the first stage of study, was still farther postponed. This,
nevertheless, was no great source of uneasiness to _Spohr_, and the
time thus gained was agreeably occupied by him in other musical
enjoyments.

On this visit indeed _Spohr_ and his wife found a home replete with
every domestic comfort in the house of Dr. _A. Farre_, who emulated
with his kind lady in his attentions towards them, and kindly
devoted every hour that his professional engagements permitted to the
entertainment of his guests; in this manner a warm friendship was soon
established between the two families, and the weeks passed under his
roof were ever recalled by _Spohr_ as among the most pleasing of his
recollections. As Dr. _Farre_ and several of his medical colleague
were very musical and good singers, they had formed themselves, in
conjunction with some other families devoted to the art, into a musical
circle, in which music of a high class was zealously cultivated, and
that of _Spohr_ was more especially the favorite. In a soirée of this
kind he had one evening the agreeable surprise to hear his oratorio
“Die letzten Dinge” performed by eight and twenty dilettanti with
faultless precision, a production which, in rare contrast with the
habitual English taste for massive instrumentation, appealed to the
feelings in the most pleasing manner by the _perfect purity_ and
intensity of its expression. At a brilliant musical soirée given by
Dr. _Farre_ himself, in compliment to his guests, a succession of
pieces selected from _Spohr’s_ different operas was also given in
the most efficient manner, and was subject of no small surprise and
gratification both to him and the assembled company.

Meanwhile, the rehearsals of “Jessonda” had slowly proceeded, it
is true, but there had arisen so many causes for a delay in its
production, that before this could take place, the period of his
vacation expired, and _Spohr_ was obliged to leave London for Germany;
but in doing so he had the satisfaction of leaving his opera in charge
of a worthy representative, Mr. _Costa_, under whose direction, a
fortnight afterwards, it was performed several times with the most
brilliant success.

Upon his landing at Calais _Spohr_ was warmly received by the amateurs
of music of that town, who had become apprised of the day of his
arrival, and he was invited by them to a grand entertainment given in
his honour. Its chief feature was a luxurious banquet, but of which
also an agreeable musical surprise formed a part; for at the conclusion
of the dinner the pleasing notes of _Spohr’s C minor_ quartet were
heard in the adjoining apartment, which was followed by the execution
of several other pieces, and continued up to the departure of the
delighted guests at a late hour. This day, so unexpectedly passed in
Calais in the midst of musical and festive enjoyments, was a subject
of special gratification to _Spohr_, as he had least of all expected,
here, upon the soil of France, to have met with such proofs of esteem
and so much admiration for his music.

On the return journey he was much occupied with an idea which he had
conceived in England of a new grand composition for the pianoforte
with instrumental accompaniment, and which upon his arrival home
he forthwith began with zest and spirit. Thus was produced--in the
seventieth year of _Spohr’s_ age--one of his finest masterpieces,
the septet for pianoforte, two stringed and four wind instruments,
replete with the freshness of youthful thought in every part, with
a _larghetto_ which has scarcely its equal in bewitching harmony
and beauty of modulations. While yet in manuscript it was publicly
performed at the next subscription concert, on which occasion both
the composition and the excellence of the execution met with the
most favourable reception and acknowledgement. The pianoforte part,
which was as grateful as it was difficult, was taken by _J. Bott_,
and the audience testified yet more warmly their just appreciation of
his execution from his having displayed also on the same evening his
brilliant talent as violin player in _Spohr’s_ 15th. violin concerto.
By the desire of the lovers of music of Cassel, a repetition of the
new septet was given at the next concert; after which, while yet in
manuscript, it was performed at one of the quartet soirées in Leipzic,
and the fullest justice done to the pianoforte part by the truly
artistic execution of _Moscheles_, and received there by the public
with the most gratifying applause.

For the next summer vacation (1854) _Spohr_ had contemplated another
journey to Switzerland; and so great this time was his desire to
pass once more the most pleasant summer month in the undisturbed
enjoyment of the beauties of nature, that the numerous invitations
he had received to the musical festivals in England and Holland were
powerless to induce him to relinquish his long previously projected
plan. As he was on the eve of departing, he received by telegraph a
farther pressing entreaty from his grand-daughter _Antonia Wolff_
at Ratisbonne, who had there married a collegiate professor, a Mr.
_Schmitz_, and who besought him to go by way of the old imperial
city, where a visit from him had long been anxiously desired by all
lovers of music, and to pass a few days with his grand-children and
great-grand-children. Attractive as was this invitation, _Spohr_ with
regret felt compelled to decline it, his holidays being so strictly
limited; and no railroad existing at that time to Ratisbonne, it would
have led him too far out of his projected route.--After a short sojourn
at Marburg, Heidelberg, and Baden-Baden--so famed for the beauty of
their respective environs--he proceeded to the south of Switzerland,
and especially enjoyed the voyage by steamboat upon the magnificent
lakes. After a few days’ stay at Lausanne, Geneva, and Vevay,
further excursions were then made into the more easily accessible
neighbourhood, where all around smiled in summer’s rich attire, while
beyond the lake rose in majestic contrast the lofty chain of the Alps,
with its snow-capped summits.

Leaving the lake of Geneva the travellers continued their journey
to Freiburg and Bern, at both which places quite unexpectedly calls
were made upon the interest they took in music. At Freiburg, as soon
as they had alighted at the hotel, _Spohr_ was invited to join the
other strangers present in a subscription towards the honorarium
which it was there customary to tender to the organist of the church
of St. Nicholas, for the performance of a piece of music upon its so
much celebrated organ. At the appointed hour, just as the shades of
evening closed around, the small party assembled, and solemnly pealed
the tones of the mighty organ through the spacious and empty aisles
of the stately church, producing their wonted powerful effect upon
_Spohr_. The organist, either not aware of the high musical authority
before whom he was playing, or thinking to impose on him like the other
strangers present by the exhibition of his wonderful artistic skill,
struck up suddenly in the most inappropriate manner sundry things from
modern operas, and then concluded with such a thundering peal on the
instrument that the first exalted impression was wholly obliterated and
_Spohr_ could not forbear the undisguised expression of his disapproval
of such a profanation of the grand fabric of sounds, which, with its
inscription: “_In majorem gloriam dei_,” seemed rather to him in a more
exalted degree worthy alone to intonate the praises of God.

Scarcely arrived in Bern, _Spohr_ was surprised to see notices stuck
up at the corners of the streets announcing two concerts of sacred
music in which his oratorio “Die letzten Dinge” formed the chief
feature of each, though preceded on the first evening by a cantata by
_Sebastian Bach_, and on the second by four of _Marcello’s_ Psalms.
The first concert had already taken place the evening before, but as
a great number of hearers as well as performers had come in from the
neighbouring towns to the second concert, Mr. _Edele_, the director of
the “Society of Ancient Classical Music” at Bern, had made arrangements
to give a repetition of the oratorio on the next evening, so that at
this second performance of it _Spohr_ was enabled to hear it executed
with the greater precision. As the news of _Spohr’s_ presence soon
spread through the church, the opportunity was seized of giving the
composer of the work which had just been performed with such devout
inspiration, a public mark of the great esteem in which he was held
in Bern; and in the later part of the evening he was suddenly greeted
by a quickly improvised serenade, and addressed in several animated
speeches. On the following morning _Spohr_ left Bern, and after
spending several pleasant days with his female fellow-travellers in
the Bernese Oberland and on the shores of the Vierwaldstädter Lake,
he continued his journey across the Lake of Constance to Bavaria and
its capital, Munich, where the much-talked-of grand exhibition of
industry had just been opened. Though the one week spent there may
have been found scarcely sufficient to see all the treasure of art and
manufacture which had been collected partly for permanent and partly
for a short exhibition only, the travellers do not appear to have
thought a longer stay desirable, for they soon experienced also the
prejudicial influence of the bodily and mental over-exertion, which,
combined with the still more injurious climatic influences which during
that disastrous summer carried off so many of the visitors to that
then overcrowded city. Under such circumstances nothing could be more
desirable than a visit to Alexandersbad, where Dr. _Theodor Pfeiffer_,
a near relative, and proprietor of the cold-water-cure establishment,
had long kindly invited them. A short stay in that place, with its
healthful mountain air, sufficed to restore their depressed animal
spirits, and _Spohr_ gladly joined in all the social parties in their
excursions to the romantic environs, and shared in all the cheerful
parties of the company at the baths, which in kindly social spirit
lived as one family. All this, together with the whole arrangements and
rules of life, which were simple and in accordance with nature, were
so much to _Spohr’s_ taste, that from that time he always considered
Alexandersbad as the beau-ideal of an invigorating summer residence,
and after another visit there he firmly maintained that opinion for the
rest of his life.

_Spohr_ commenced the following year (1855) with the composition of six
four-voice part-songs for soprano, alto, tenor and bass, which were
soon after excellently sung at a private concert of the St. Cecilia
society with double vocal support, under his own conducting, and aided
by his own powerful bass. They made an unusual sensation among the
lovers of music present, above all one entitled “Man’s Consolation”
(the words by _von Müller von der Werra_), which went home to all
hearts.

In the spring of the same year, _Spohr_ obeyed an invitation from the
king of Hanover to direct his double symphony, and several other of
his compositions, at a grand concert. Upon his arrival at the railway
terminus he was met by music-director _Wehner_, at the head of a
numerous body of musicians and friends of the art, and in the evening
at the hotel he was saluted with two serenades, by the military band,
and the members of the choral society. On the subject of the pleasant
days he passed in Hanover upon that occasion both in a musical and
festive point of view, _Spohr_ wrote to his friend _Hauptmann_: “I
enjoyed myself much on my little excursion to Hanover. I played a
quartet at the King’s, and it seemed to me that his musical culture
went so far as to like that kind of music. At a morning concert got up
by the chapel royal to let me hear two of my compositions which they
had very carefully practised, I played also my quartet (_E minor_). The
compositions adverted to were the 7th. violin concerto, executed in a
very masterly manner by _Joachim_; and the first double quartet, of
which _Kömpel_ played the first violin in the first, and _Joachim_ in
that of the second quartet. This also, was played in the most finished
manner. On the second day the chapel royal gave a first rehearsal of
my symphony, “The Terrestrial and Divine in human Life,” which was
followed by a grand dinner, which lasted five hours, and during which
the speeches, songs and toasts were numerous and varied. Although
much exhausted I was obliged to go to a musical party in the evening
given by my old friend _Hausmann_, where I played two of my quartets,
and as on the previous evening, did not get to bed till two o’clock.
On the third day there was a grand rehearsal in the forenoon, and in
the evening the concert for the benefit of the poor, for which the
King had sent me the invitation to come to Hanover. I conducted the
first half, consisting of the overture and duett from ‘Jessonda’ and
my symphony. All these, executed in a masterly manner, particularly
the double symphony, which I never heard better played, not even in
London. The small orchestra led by _Joachim_ was composed of the élite
of the chapel royal and was very conveniently placed on the stage, so
that it was advantageously separated from the large one. The latter
was composed of twenty violins, six viols, five violincellos and five
counter-basses. It contrasted well therefore by its imposing power, in
the sonorous and not too spacious theatre, with the solo orchestra upon
the stage. The effect was very satisfactory. But in fact the orchestra
is a very superior one, particularly in the stringed instruments. The
harmony comprises certainly several distinguished virtuosi, but in
ensemble, it is neither so even in tone, nor so pure in intonation as
ours. The second part of the concert was conducted by _Fischer_; it
consisted of the overture to “Euryanthe,” _Beethoven’s_ violin concerto
(with new, superfluously long, very difficult and ungrateful, cadences
by _Joachim_), and some ‘numbers’ of ‘Lohengrin.’ The concert was
crowded and must have brought in a round sum to the poor-box.--On the
morning before I left a deputation from the chapel royal presented me
with a leader’s bâton more rich and tasteful in design than anything
of the kind I ever saw. As I afterwards learned, it was made by order
of the king, to be presented to me by the chapel royal. It consists
of a beautifully grooved ivory staff with a golden handle richly set
with coloured stones, with a similar gold ornamentation at the top,
ending in a knob set likewise with small stones. The whole thing is
extremely tasteful, and has upon the handle in raised letters: ‘The
Royal Hanoverian Chapel to Music-director-general Dr. _Spohr_, March
31st. 1855.’ The Elector, who sent for the work of art to inspect
it, expressed himself, as I am told, upon returning it, with very
unreserved dissatisfaction that the inscription did not express
‘Director-general of Music to the Elector,’ and said, “who will know
hereafter whose director general of music he was!”[42] &c.

[42] The leader’s bâton here described with such evident satisfaction,
formed a worthy companion to a scarcely less costly and tasteful
one that _Spohr_ had been presented with by his faithful pupil _F.
Böhme_ of Holland. He was always very proud of such appropriate and
artistically executed presents, and it was always his custom to take
them out of their respective cases with his own hands, and to replace
them after use with equal care.

The first impression experienced by _Spohr_ on his return from
Hanover, was also an agreeable one, for he found at home a telegraphic
message that had arrived during his absence, to the following effect:
“Inspruck, March 27th. 1855, 10 m. p. 10 at night. One hundred and
fifty dilettanti of Inspruck, who have just performed the music of
“Jessonda” with rapturous applause, send to the master their heartfelt
greetings.” The letters which subsequently arrived from Inspruck
informed him in a more detailed manner, “that the opera had been three
times performed there in the national theatre to crowded houses, for
the benefit of the fund for the relief of the poor, and in a manner
surpassing all expectation, by musical and vocal dilettanti;” and
expressed at the same time “the hope that the friends of music in that
place would have the gratification of greeting the honoured and veteran
composer in their own mountains in the course of the year, and hear
again that classic opera under his own personal direction.”

That hope however was not realised, for the journey contemplated
this year was in the opposite direction, towards the north; first to
Hamburg, where _Spohr_ had not been since the great fire in 1842, and
was therefore greatly interested to see the magnificent manner in which
it had been rebuilt. Fully satisfied in that expectation, he had at
the same time the pleasure of seeing again several much-loved friends
(among whom the family of the _Grunds_), and to hear many successful
musical performances, both in private and public circles.--Being so
near to the sister town Lubeck, to which his wife was still fondly
attached, and for whose kind-hearted inhabitants he himself, since his
visit in the year 1840, had a predilection, it was natural that both
should much desire to make a trip thither, upon the railway which had
since then been opened to connect the two towns. Although it is true
that during the fifteen years which had elapsed, many former friends
had gone to their last rest, yet the venerable old instructor was still
living, and met his former lady pupil and her renowned husband with
the same warmth of heart. Verging upon eighty years of age, he had
recently retired from professional life, but the institution he had
so long successfully directed flourished still, conducted in the same
spirit by his worthy son Dr. _Adam Meier_; and _Spohr_ and his wife,
deeply moved by his touching kindness, took up their abode beneath the
hospitable roof that was so endeared to them by past recollections.--As
the interests of music were also well represented by Kapellmeister
_Hermann_, a former pupil and a warm partizan of _Spohr_, the days
passed agreeably in social intercourse with old friends and new
acquaintances.

In the course of the year 1855 _Spohr_ wrote his 33rd. violin quartet
(Op. 152, published by _Siegel_ of Leipzic) and three grand duets for
two violins (Op. 148, 150 and 153, published by _Peters_ of Leipzic)
which last he dedicated to the brothers _Alfred_ and _Henry Holmes_ of
London. Neither could he have commended his work to better hands to
ensure a performance and publicity worthy of them, for although those
young artists never had the advantage of his personal instruction, yet
by dint of a diligent study of his “Violin School,” they had become so
penetrated with the spirit of his composition and his style of play,
that _Spohr_ during his last stay in England had been exceedingly
gratified to hear his older violin duets executed by the two talented
youths in a really masterly manner; and when a few years afterwards,
upon an artistic tour on the continent, they visited Cassel, they
caused, as _Spohr_ himself remarks in a letter: “everywhere the
greatest sensation by their splendid play, and especially excited
admiration by the highly finished and surprising performance of his
duets and concertantes.”

In the spring of 1856 _Spohr_ received a letter from a former pupil,
the director of music _Kiel_, of Detmold; where upon, at the desire of
his Prince, he proposed to _Spohr_ the composition of some songs for
a baritone voice, with pianoforte and violin accompaniment. Although
doubtful at first that such a combination would be suited to a deep
male voice, he nevertheless interested himself in the trial, and in a
short time he wrote a collection of six songs of the required kind,
with which he himself felt highly satisfied. He then gave a hearing
of them in manuscript to his musical friends in his own house, in
which he himself took the violin part, which had proved of a somewhat
difficult nature, and gave the voice part to _Heinrich Osthoff_
an ex-concert-singer, who for some years past had been settled in
Cassel as a teacher of music, and who from his particularly excellent
and expressive execution of all _Spohr’s_ song pieces, sacred and
otherwise, was a welcome guest in all musical circles. In Detmold also,
the new songs dedicated to the Prince were very favorably received,
and the Prince, as his director of music informed _Spohr_, sang them
every day with increased satisfaction. When _Spohr_ shortly afterwards
forwarded the first printed presentation copy (published by _Luckhardt_
of Cassel, Op. 154) to the musical prince, the latter in an autograph
letter of thanks thus expressed himself: “that the great pleasure the
fine songs already gave him would be yet increased when he should have
the opportunity of singing them with _Spohr’s_ own accompaniment.”
The obliging letter was at the same time accompanied by a valuable
souvenir, in the shape of a shirt-pin with the appropriately selected
emblems of an oak-leaf in green gold, with an acorn of pearl set in
gold, presented to _Spohr_ as an honourable acknowledgement “of his
true _German_ worth as musician and as man.”

The first weeks of the summer vacation were passed by Spohr in a
very pleasant and recreative journey to Dresden, Saxon Switzerland
and Prague; after which, having reposed a short time in his own
beautiful flower-garden, he undertook a journey into the Harz, at
the solicitation of an enthusiastic musical friend, the jurisconsult
_Haushalter_ of Wernigerode.

The increased leisure time gained by _Spohr_ in consequence of the
appointment of his new colleague he now devoted to composition, for
which, despite his advanced age, the impulse and love had not yet
diminished. Though his musical ideas may no longer have flowed so
copiously, and assumed as readily the form he wished, as in former
years, and though he himself at times expressed doubts as to whether
his later works would take equal rank with his earlier compositions,
yet he frequently received an enthusiastic recognition of the merit of
his newest compositions from quite unexpected quarters, which always
gave him fresh courage to continue his musical creations.

_Spohr_ now determined to write another quartet (his 34th.), upon
terminating which he immediately opened the winter series of his
still continued quartet circle with it. Although this new composition
was considered extremely fresh and charming by both co-operators and
auditory, yet he himself was so little satisfied with it, that after
repeated alteration, which were rejected as soon as made, he laid
aside the whole quartet as a failure; nor did he write another until a
whole twelvemonth had elapsed: this differed in every respect from the
former, and he substituted it for it under the same number. Upon its
first performance at the quartet meeting this piece of music pleased
him right well; but shortly afterwards it seemed to him to require
many improvements, and as these did not turn out to his satisfaction,
sorrowfully, but resigned to the consciousness that he could no longer
carry out in a satisfactory manner the ideas which floated before his
fancy, he associated the new 34th. quartet with that which he had
previously rejected, and expressed the wish to his wife that neither
should at any time be made public.

He came to a similar decision in respect to a symphony which he had
composed shortly before, which was performed once only in the presence
of a few only of his most intimate musical friends, at a rehearsal by
the court orchestra of Cassel. Notwithstanding the numerous beauties
and novelties in thought which it contains, to him nevertheless it
did not appear worthy of being placed in the fine catalogue of his
earlier written symphonies, and in this manner by himself was this--his
tenth--symphony condemned, not to destruction it is true, but to
eternal concealment.

In the summer of 1857 _Spohr_ availed himself of the vacation to go to
Holland, his former visit there being still borne by him in pleasing
recollection, he had therefore long been desirous of proceeding thither
with his wife to shew her that country, as yet unvisited by her, and
remarkable for so many peculiarities. Little as he had calculated
upon any musical enjoyments there at such a season of the year, his
pleasure was great to hear on the very first evening at _Verhulst’s_,
in Rotterdam, in a numerous circle of musicians and lovers of music,
several quartets both of his own and of _Verhulst’s_ composition,
upon which occasion the violinist _Tours_, whose acquaintance he had
formerly made, proved himself a great virtuoso, as first violin. The
director of music _Böhm_, of Dortrecht, who had shown from his youth
a strong attachment to the honoured master, exhibited it anew by the
unwearying attention with which he strove to alleviate all the cares
and difficulties of travel in a foreign country, and took them wholly
upon himself. Willingly following the arrangements of the excellent
“travelling marshall,” as _Spohr_ was wont playfully to call him, the
travellers were now enabled to see the many remarkable objects in the
chief cities of Holland in a comparatively much shorter time, after
which a further journey was undertaken from Amsterdam to that part of
North Holland lying beyond the Y. The singular topographical feature
of the whole country, the meadows intersected by innumerable canals
and lakes, meadows covered with grazing cattle, the hundreds of gaily
painted windmills, the cheerful blue sky, and the easy travelling upon
the smoothly paved highroads, more like the parquetted floors of an
apartment--in short, the whole delightful journey, with its interesting
final objects, the celebrated places Saardam and Broek, presented a
succession of charming pictures that surpassed all expectation and put
_Spohr_ in particular in the most cheerful possible mood.

Their kind “marshall” _Böhm_ accompanied the travellers on their return
as far back as Utrecht, but placed them there in good hands, under the
hospitable roof of one of _Spohr’s_ grateful pupils, the director of
music _Kufferath_, with whom they passed some exceedingly pleasant
days. As the country round Utrecht abounds with handsome country-seats
and parks, these furnished occasion for frequent delightful walks with
the family of their host; and the musical entertainments given to
_Spohr_--a quickly arranged organ-concert got up by _Nieuvenhuisen_,
the organist of the cathedral, and a grand serenade by torch-light in
the evening--made the memory of those days worthy of being associated
with the pleasing reminiscences of his former visit.

On the return-journey _Spohr_ stopped a day at Cologne, where _Hiller_,
the director of music, quickly improvised a brilliant dinner-party in
his honour, and afterwards gratified him with the performance of some
highly interesting musical pieces in his own house. _Hiller_ himself
played with great spirit a recently composed sonata for the pianoforte
of extreme difficulty of execution, some numbers of the comic opera
composed by him called: “Jest, cunning and revenge,” which was received
with universal satisfaction, and by _Spohr_ in particular with lively
applause. This was succeeded later in the evening by a musical
surprise; the celebrated Cologne choral society, wholly composed of
male voices, had assembled in all silence in the hotel, and at the door
of their honoured guest sang their finest songs in the most masterly
manner, which, together with a spirited address, spoken by professor
_Bischof_, afforded him very great pleasure.

Gratified in every respect with his journey, _Spohr_ returned to
Cassel, where, reinvigorated and refreshed, he devoted himself with
his usual zeal and interest to the materially lightened labours of his
office, shared now with his young and active colleague.

Meanwhile, at that time was heard here and there the report that it was
contemplated to pension him off; but when he was apprised of this by a
friend, and it was put to him whether he would not rather anticipate
such an intention by proposing himself to retire upon his pension, he
replied with decision, that: his duty and inclination impelled him
alike to remain in the performance of his official engagements so long
as he could fulfil them satisfactorily. Thus things remained on the old
footing, until on the 14th. November, both contrary to his wish and
expectation, he received the following rescript from the Elector:

“In pursuance of our most gracious will and pleasure, we have granted
to the director-general of music and court Kapellmeister at our
court-theatre, Dr. _Louis Spohr_, by reason of his advanced years,
permission to retire into private life, and have been further pleased
to grant him a yearly pension of 1500 Thalers from our court treasury
from the date of the month next ensuing. The department of our lord
high marshall of the palace will make the further dispositions to that
effect. Cassel, November 12, 1857. _Friedrich Wilhelm._”

Painfully affected as _Spohr_ was upon the receipt of this, he with
his usual good sense soon overcame the shock of the first impression
and contemplated the matter on its brighter side; in which sense he
then gave expression to his sentiments in his letters to distant
friends, and among others, in replying shortly afterwards to the
director of music _Bott_ respecting other affairs, he wrote as follows;
“You do not appear to have yet learned that the Elector, without my
solicitation, has placed me in retirement, and although the terms
of my engagement specified that my salary should be paid so long as
I lived, he has pensioned me off on 1500 Thalers per annum. It has
nevertheless appeared in all the newspapers, together with the account
of the festive form in which I directed for the last time the opera of
Jessonda at the theatre. At first it gave me very great pain, for I
felt still perfectly competent to conduct the few operas which latterly
fell to my share. But I soon learned to estimate my present freedom at
its real value, and now feel very glad that whenever I choose I can get
away by rail whithersoever my fancy takes me! I have submitted also to
the deduction from my salary, having been informed that I should not be
able to compel the payment of the full salary without a new law-suit,
and because it was repulsive to my feelings to take the whole amount
without performing any service for it, and I can live very well with
three-fourths of it by means of my savings!”

Thus terminated _Spohr’s_ personal co-operation at opera and concert.
But that he still cherished as warm an interest in the latter his
letters to distant friends attest, and in this spirit he wrote on
December 22nd. to Mr. _Lüder_: “Since we were at your house, we have
had here the second subscription concert! It was the first concert
that took place in Cassel without my co-operation, and at which I
was present from beginning to end as an auditor. It consisted of
carefully rehearsed music: the two finales from “Zemire and Azor” and
“Euryanthe;” of instrumental music _Mozart’s C major_ symphony with the
fugue (called Jupiter); of concert things _Beethoven’s_ violin concerto
with _Joachim’s_ cadences, and a concert piece by _Moscheles_ for two
pianofortes, called _Hommage à Händel_, very correctly and effectively
played by Messrs. _Reiss_ and _Tivendell_. The concert opened with the
overture to “Rosamunda” by _Schubert_, one of his youthful works, but
which is very pleasing, and was quite new to me. _Reiss_ has again
achieved great praise both by his arrangement and by his careful
rehearsal and study of the music.” In the same letter he farther says:
“We have also had again two quartet parties, and I am happy to say,
that I am still all right at the violin, only I must always prepare
myself a few days before, which was not necessary some years ago![43]”

[43] These quartet evenings in the society of a few of the families of
his most intimate friends, were always a source of great pleasure to
_Spohr_. Every year, on the approach of winter, he took early steps for
their re-arrangement, and generally opened the series in his own house.
Painful as it was to him whenever the death of one of the members
of the circle caused a vacancy therein, the loss of his two oldest
and most faithful friends, chief director _von Schmerfeld_ and Lord
marshall _von der Malsburg_, who had died in the two previous years,
was long and deeply deplored by him.

The at this time still powerful impulse to compose, on the one hand,
and the dread of being no longer capable of producing anything good
and new on the other, gave rise to many painful struggles in the mind
of _Spohr_,--till one morning he entered his wife’s apartment, and
with a cheerful countenance announced to her that he had found the
right way to get out of the difficulty. He had resolved upon writing
a requiem, and had already conceived some fine ideas for it; he had
the greatest hopes that he would be able to complete it, and produce
a worthy conclusion to his numerous works. In happy and inspired mood
he now immediately went to work; and in a few days wrote the first
subjects, but this pleasure, like that which he had shortly before
boasted of in his quartet play, was soon dissipated. On the second day
after Christmas Day, while on his wonted way to the reading room of
the museum in the evening twilight he had the misfortune to fall over
the stone steps at the entrance, and to break his left arm. Beyond
all expectation, nevertheless, the fractured limb was happily healing
fast, and when, after a lapse of several months, with anxious fear of
the result, he once more took up his violin, to draw the first tones
from it, the trial seemed quite satisfactory. But after several days’
practice, followed up with great perseverance, he nevertheless became
convinced to his great sorrow that his arm would never recover its lost
strength and elasticity; upon which, as in this also he could no longer
satisfy himself, deprived of another of the most precious elements of
his existence, with a grieving heart he laid by his beloved violin!

Meanwhile, notwithstanding, many wished-for opportunities presented
themselves elsewhere to _Spohr_, to keep alive his interest in musical
enjoyments and to cheer him with the performance of his greater
works. Scarcely was he recovered from the fracture of his arm, than
he accepted an invitation to Magdeburg, to hear the performance of
his oratorio, “Des Heilands letzte Stunden,” which was to take place
there on Good Friday. With this performance he expressed himself
highly pleased, in a letter to Mr. _Lüders_: “Orchestra, choruses,
and solo-singers were alike excellently practised in their respective
parts, and the effect, in the church of St. Ulrich, which is so
favorably constructed for sound, was indeed heavenly. The solo-voices,
for the most part belonging to the _Seebach_ choral society, were
particularly fine, harmonious and powerful dilettante singers, and
led by their director _Mühling_ they were so penetrated with the true
spirit of the composition, that I was quite taken by surprise, and
delighted!

The accompaniment also of the solo instruments in the grand air of Mary
in the second part was very fine; for _Grimm_ the harpist had been sent
for from Berlin, and the other solo instruments--violin, violincello
and horn--were played by members of the present orchestra of the
Magdeburg theatre, who are, as luck would have it, virtuosi.”

In a similar letter of the 6th. April to _Hauptmann_, in speaking of
his further contemplated plans of journey, he says: “Whether all these
excursions will be carried into effect, is not yet decided; but for
the rest of my life my artistic enjoyments are limited to them; for I
am now perfectly convinced, that I cannot accomplish any great work
more. I regret to say, that my last attempt of the kind failed, and
my requiem remains a fragment; nevertheless, as the subject as far as
the _Lacrimosa dies illa_, at which I stuck fast, pleases me well, and
seems to have much that is new and ingenious in it, I shall not destroy
it, as I should like to take it up again, and will make another attempt
to complete it.”

This attempt, to which with much perseverance he devoted half a day,
proved however a failure, and brought him finally to the avowed painful
determination to relinquish composition entirely; as he did not feel
capable of putting his musical ideas into a distinct shape. At the
conclusion of the letter adverted to, he says further: “I thank you
heartily for your kind wishes upon my birth-day! Notwithstanding my
present low spirits on account of my artistic impotency, I nevertheless
passed it agreeably enough. That may have arisen from my happily
performed journey.” Scarcely three weeks afterwards, _Spohr_, again
full of pleasurable anticipation, set out anew, and this time to
Bremen, where the director of music _Engel_ purposed to open his
recently established choral society with the public performance of
_Spohr’s_ oratorio, “The Fall of Babylon,” a great undertaking, but so
worthily executed that _Spohr_ himself was greatly surprised and deeply
moved.

For the beginning of July _Spohr_ had been invited to Prague, where the
half-centennial anniversary of the Conservatory of that city was to be
celebrated by three grand musical performances--among which was his
opera “Jessonda.” The celebration of divine service in the cathedral
on the first morning was followed in the evening by a grand concert
in the theatre. It began with a new Symphony by _Kittl_, the director
of the conservatory, which, like the other _Pièces d’Ensemble_, was
performed by the pupils of the institution; while the solo-pieces were
executed by foreign resident musicians who had received their education
there; among these, the celebrated violinists _Dreyschock_ and _Laub_.
“On the second evening,” in the words of the “Tagesboten aus Böhmen,”
“not only in honour of the great musician present, but in order to give
every true lover of art a right festive evening, the ‘Jessonda’ of _Dr.
Louis Spohr_ was selected, and Prague had this time the satisfaction of
seeing the inspired and still vigorous veteran conduct the performance
of his work himself.... As _Spohr_ took his place at the conductor’s
desk, which was hung with wreaths of laurel and ornamented with a
crown of the same, he was received by the densely crowded house, which
comprised all the leading artists and lovers of music of Prague,
with long and enthusiastic applause. At every moment of interest, of
which the fascinating “Jessonda,” (the not yet surpassed model of
German lyrical opera) is one uninterrupted beautiful chain, the most
gratifying acclamations were first directed to the master, and then
to the singers. After the second act, the venerable poet of sweet
sounds was vehemently called forward upon the stage, as also after
the last act, when another crown of laurel was thrown to him.... The
conducting of the honoured master _Spohr_ is still marked by unimpaired
vigour, and attention to every detail; his stroke of the baton has
its usual characteristic stamp” &c. The _concert spirituel_, which
had been arranged for the third evening, as the finale to the musical
part of the festival, comprised as chief subject, the ninth Symphony
of _Beethoven_; but at the grand dinner given on the following day,
a series of select musical pieces was performed, and the opportunity
seized, both by loud calls for the repetition of the overture to
“Jessonda,” and every possible mode of demonstration, to honour
_Spohr_, the Nestor of the numerously congregated musicians, as the
king of the feast. Not less however than by all these demonstrations
was he gratified by the kind anticipation of his wishes with the
invitation to visit the country-house in the neighbourhood of Prague
which had been hallowed by _Mozart’s_ lengthened residence; to which
the present proprietor Herr _Popelka_ himself accompanied him, to shew
him the room, which _Spohr_ also looked upon as sacred ground, where
_Mozart_ had composed his “Don Juan.”

_Spohr_ was less fortunate upon his return journey in realising a
long-cherished and ardent wish. He had for several years vainly
endeavoured to hear upon a foreign stage _Mozart’s_ opera “Idomeneo,”
which he had never been able to give a performance of in Cassel, and
which was known to him only in the pianoforte selection. With this
object also, already in the beginning of the summer, apart from and
independent of his subsequently promised visit to Prague, he had
projected a journey to Dresden, for the reason, as he then expressed in
a letter to his friend _Lüder_--“that with the constantly increasing
dearth in the repertory of modern operas, an as yet unheard opera of
_Mozart_ was too important an event, and for him an artistic necessity
too great, that he should not joyfully undertake even a much longer
journey to hear it.” Long previously he had written on the subject to
his friend the director of music _Reissiger_, and at length thought to
see his hope realized in Dresden, either before or after the Prague
musical festival. Unfortunately, however, owing to the absence of
the chief singers of the opera, it could not be carried out, and so,
consoling himself meanwhile till the autumn, he took the road to
Alexandersbad, where during a pleasant sojourn of a week, he reposed
from the exertion of the previous journey in the enjoyment of the quiet
relaxation he so much desired.

Greatly gratified, and visibly refreshed as _Spohr_ again returned
from this pleasant excursion to Alexandersbad, yet from that period he
exhibited a constantly increasing low-spirited and thoughtful mood,
which was so opposite to his former manner. To his wife, who vainly
tried every means to cheer him, he would then reply after a protracted
and earnest silence, that he was weary of life, as he could no longer
be doing; that he had enjoyed to exhaustion all that mortal life
could given, and lived to see a more widely spread recognition and
love for his music than he even could have hoped for,--that now he
ardently wished for death, before the infirmities of old age completely
prostrated him. Nevertheless he always felt cheerfully moved again
by invitations to new journeys, and musical enjoyments, of which
several presented themselves in the autumn. In September namely, the
journey to Wiesbaden to the musical festival of the Middle-Rhine,
and in October to Leipsic, to the performance of his own and other
works which particularly interested him, at the Gewandhaus concert,
at the conservatory and at the church,--on which occasions he at both
places followed the musical performances with persevering interest and
pleasure, and received with lively satisfaction the various ovations
of which he was the object. Although upon this journey to Leipsic,
and lastly also to Dresden, he found no opportunity to realise his
_most ardent expectation_ to hear the “Idomeneo,” he nevertheless was
somewhat compensated for the disappointment by the kindness of the
Frankfort theatrical Intendant, who on his previously expressed wish,
announced _Cherubini’s_ opera of “Medea” for the evening of his arrival
there, on his way through to Wiesbaden, and thus afforded him the high
enjoyment of hearing that classically beautiful music.

As with the decrease in the length of the days and with the gloom of
winter, the sleeplessness and nervous excitement which had affected
him so prejudicially at Leipsic also, increased during the long
nights, and from that time slowly but obviously augmented; leaving as
their result a still greater debility and uneasiness during the day;
his cheerfulness abandoned him entirely.--Shortly after his visit to
Leipsic, where the orchestral pieces under the excellent direction of
_Rietz_ gave him especial pleasure, he wrote among other things to
_Hauptmann_.... “I cannot express to you how this time all the music
I heard in Leipsic pleased me.... From the devotional sentiment which
your motette raised in me on Sunday, I envy you not a little the
energy with which you still continue to work, while with me it is all
over with composing and with violin play! Yesterday I received from
_Zellner_, the musical critic at Vienna, the intelligence that one of
my oratorios is to be performed there, and he invited me on the part
of the originators of the design, to come and direct it myself. For
several years the Austrian society had contemplated giving my ‘Fall of
Babylon’ as a musical festival in the Imperial Riding School; but then,
even with the aid of _Metternich_, I could not get permission to go
there. Now, when I could get away, as I am an invalid, and the journey
too far and fatiguing, I am obliged to renounce it. I shall therefore
decline the invitation and content myself with shorter journeys in
the fine season of the year. But on such occasions, struggles with my
inclinations and low spirits always follow! and so one is induced to
envy the lot of several who were personally known to me, who of late
died suddenly....” Impressed with similar painful thoughts and not
without many inward struggles, _Spohr_ wrote the letter to decline
the invitation that he received at that time to Königsberg, to the
centenary _Händel_ Festival, where he had been chosen to direct the
magnificent “Messiah” and one of his own works; and where it was
intended to pay to him, as sole worthy representative of the great
_Händel_, all the homage and honours which could not be rendered to
_Händel_ personally, in all the overflowing fulness of their warmth.[44]

[44] To the many marks of honour which _Spohr_ still received in the
latter years of his life must be added also his nomination to the
honorary membership of the “Musical Society,” which had just previously
been instituted in London. Upon the occasion of his presentation with
this diploma, an enumeration of the various diplomas which he had
already been presented with gave an amount of _Thirty-eight_, among
which was one from New York, from Buenos-Ayres, St. Petersburg, and
Stockholm, with two from Rome and two from Holland.

As _Spohr_ for many years had been considered by the whole musical
world as the highest authority in everything that pertained to his art,
a day seldom passed without bringing applications or requests of some
kind, frequently from the most distant localities, which his ever-ready
disposition to oblige never permitted him to leave unnoticed, but to
which, now although with a heavy heart, he was more and more compelled
to waive replying. One application nevertheless may here be mentioned,
which, coming at a particularly favourable moment, rekindled his
zest to make a last essay at composition, and which in reality also
was his last! For many years he had been repeatedly solicited in the
most irresistible words by Mr. _Chr. Schad_, the publisher of the
Almanack of the German Muses, to write a few little songs for it, and
_Spohr_ had each time the satisfaction to learn that those willingly
bestowed little contributions were received with a more than usual
approbation. In the autumn of 1857, when with considerable timidity he
had endeavoured to satisfy Mr _Schad’s_ urgent wish for a composition
for the words of the old ballad of _Walter von der Vogelweide_, “the
silent nightingale,” he received a very poetical letter of thanks
expressing the writers “admiration of the musical sentiment and depth
of feeling with which the beautiful ballad had been rendered by the
composer,” and that “it is a great satisfaction for a German heart
that two masters of his nation, although separated by an interval of
six hundred years, should have exhibited the rich treasures of their
inmost feelings, in so noble, so simple and so harmonious a form of
words and tone,” &c. Now at length, in October 1858, six months after
having laid aside his incompleted requiem as his last composition,
he received another letter, beginning with the words: “Your silent
nightingale which built her harmonious nest in the thick verdure of
last year’s Almanack of the Muses, has met with the loudest approbation
of the German nation for the very eloquence of that silence. And who
better than the loved great master _Spohr_ would know how to utter
sounds more replete with the soul’s harmony,--who know how to move
more deeply and purely a German heart! No wonder is it that I again
knock at your door to-day. I come in the name of, and at the request
of, more than eighty of the best hearts and heads in Germany, who have
chosen me as their standard-bearer for a noble patriotic object.... I
lay before you three of the most beautiful of _Göthe’s_ songs for your
unrestricted choice, and resign myself to the pleasing hope of seeing
one or the other enveloped in a melodious garb by your master-hand.”
And, indeed, already on the following morning his wife heard with
joyful emotion the sound of the long-silent keys of the pianoforte, in
his room, and his still pleasing voice as he sang in accompaniment. A
few hours afterwards he came also with a look of pleasure to fetch her,
to sing to her forthwith the new music he had composed to _Goethe’s_
“Herz, mein Herz, was soll das geben,” having already completed it as
regarded the chief thing; though the rhythm and conclusion not being
yet to his fancy, would require a longer time to finish. When however,
his wife, greatly pleased with the lively, pretty melody, could not
refrain from making the observation that it had a very striking
resemblance to _Beethoven’s_ composition to the same words, he assured
her that he had no knowledge of it, or at least no recollection of it
at all, but expressed the wish to have it procured, in order to satisfy
himself of the resemblance.--With his own song he was now tolerably
satisfied, and said, with truth also, that it would have a very good
effect, if those who sung it did not _spoil it by too slow a Tempo_,
as was so frequently the case with his compositions, a remark which is
in so far characteristic, as _Spohr_, so often as he heard his works
performed abroad, or not under his own immediate direction, always felt
annoyed by the time being taken frequently _too slow_, but scarcely
ever complained of one taken _too fast_. When at length the new song
was studied under his superintendance by his niece _Emma Spohr_,
who, gifted with a fine voice, always sung songs of the kind in the
family-circle, he sang to her himself with the most lively emotion, and
with almost breathless rapidity, the three closely following strophes,
without interlude, to encourage her to a similar execution. But a few
weeks afterwards, when he again caught sight of the manuscript, he
said, with a sorrowful expression of face, that the song was worthless,
and regretted that he had sent it for publication in the Almanack of
the Muses!

As evidence of his restless impulse to be usefully active, one instance
may here be adduced:

When, after breaking his arm, he was compelled to give up violin
playing himself, he thought also that he could no longer give
satisfaction as a _Teacher_ of his instrument; he had dismissed his
last violin pupils, young persons without pecuniary means whom he
instructed from a humane feeling and zeal for the art.--But now, in
December 1858, he again resumed his labours as a beneficent instructor,
and expressed himself to _Hauptmann_ upon the subject in the following
words: “In order still to be somewhat actively engaged in the cause
of art, I have commenced giving pianoforte lessons gratis to a young
lady who wishes to qualify herself for a teacher of that instrument.
But when it is requisite to play anything to my pupil, I am of course
obliged to call my wife or sister-in-law to my assistance.”

In this manner, the this time especially dreaded winter,--his last--had
come! On New Year’s morning 1859, after a sleepless and restless night
passed in a state of painful nervous excitement, he received in earnest
silence the wishes of the season from his family and friends,--but
still looked forward with hope to a “fine spring and summer,” which
he contemplated passing happily once more, partly at home among his
favorite flowers, and partly in little journeys. For such journeys,
which his friends always designated as “little triumphal excursions,”
the most alluring invitations had again long been received from all
sides, but of these of course he could only accept those which were
to places most easily accessible. When upon such occasions with an
effusion of grateful satisfaction he gave utterance to his feelings
in the words: “It often seems to me as though all the world thought
only of conferring upon me a very feast of pleasure before I die,”
it was unfortunately always followed by the sad addition: “but no
one knows how miserable I feel, and no one can relieve me of my
sufferings.”--With almost morbid impatience he now looked forward
to the next spring, when he had proposed to himself, at the special
request of _John J. Bott_, who was now appointed director of music
at the court orchestra of Meiningen, to proceed thither, to direct
the concert which was then to be given for the benefit of the widow’s
relief fund. The few hours occupied by the journey on the newly-opened
Werra railway were easy and comfortable to him, and upon his reception
at the terminus of Meiningen _Spohr_ was particularly gratified at
meeting once more both his favorite pupils _Grund_ and _Bott_, who
greeted their honoured master with expressions of the heartiest
welcome, and who the next day were unwearied in showing their grateful
attachment to him in every possible manner. Immediately on the first
evening, as a further festive welcome, a grand serenade by torch-light
was given to him, in which under _Bott’s_ conducting (in the _Spohr_
style), male choral and four-part-songs interchanged alternately with
the music of the full orchestra; and at the close, at the moment when
the cheers of the assembled crowds were loudest, the whole living mass
was suddenly illumined by the coloured fires of a brilliant sun, which
disclosed also to view, as though by magic, the fine parks opposite
the house. At the rehearsal for the concert on the following evening,
_Spohr_ found all the musical pieces so carefully studied and in
accordance with all his intentions, that he could look forward with
pleasing certainty to its performance on the next evening, and the more
so, as the two directors of music, _Grund_ and _Bott_, felt an especial
pleasure in resuming their former places under the direction of their
master, as co-operating violinists in the orchestra, and in thus giving
him the most powerful support.

The “Meininger Tageblatt” makes mention of the concert in the following
terms: “Upon the stage, between branches of palm and laurel, was placed
a collossal bust of _Spohr_. The conductor’s desk had been decorated by
female hands with ingenious devices and garlands of flowers. The house,
filled to overflowing, awaited in breathless suspense the appearance
of the famed old master. ‘He comes!’ ... was whispered through the
spacious house, and a thousand-tongued welcome of joy greeted the
honoured man. In a few minutes afterwards he had lifted the conductor’s
baton--a solemn silence immediately ensued; and in a few moments the
first notes of the symphony “Die Weihe der Töne” resounded. The eyes of
all were directed to the Nestor of the science of music, who brought
to our mind the Olympian Jove--_omnia supercilio moventis_. All the
orchestral assistants felt the importance of the moment, and lent their
most efficient aid. The same calm which everywhere breathes through the
works of this musician was seen also in his conducting. Not the least
fraction of a beat was thrown away--in all and everywhere, were seen
the director of orchestra and the musicians, as a grand impersonated
whole, achieving in every part a fresh triumph. The honoured poet of
sweet sounds directed besides his grand symphony, five other of his
works, and with so steady a hand, that the crowded house was filled
with admiration.” ... This part of the concert in which _Spohr_ wielded
for _the last time_ the conductor’s baton, comprised among the rest,
his concertante in _H minor_, which was executed by director of music
_Bott_ and concert-master _Müller_ in a masterly manner, and gave him
great pleasure. In appropriate choice followed the overture to the
“Mountain Sprite,” with which thirty-four years before he had opened
the festive celebration of the marriage of the ducal pair. As upon that
occasion the exalted couple listened with pleasure to the tones of
the master, and exhibited a warm interest not only by their presence
at the rehearsal and performance, but by the most marked attentions;
and the duke, who many years previously had presented _Spohr_ with the
cross of knighthood of the order of the house of Saxe-Ernest, changed
it upon this occasion for the grand cross of the order.--The last
evening in Meiningen was further celebrated in honour of _Spohr_ by a
grand masonic fête, which afforded him no less gratification; as also
a hearty written testimony of thanks addressed to him by the intendant
of the court orchestra, Mr. _von Liliencron_, from which, as it refers
to _Spohr’s last appearance as conductor_, we may here cite some words,
which will perpetuate the memory of that day: “The house filled to the
very utmost,--the enthusiastic acclamations,--the flowers and wreaths,
testified to you yesterday, how fascinated we all were by your tones,
how deeply moved at the sight of the loved and highly honoured master.
If the recollection of that delightful evening will remain indelibly
impressed upon all who were present, so will the benign purpose of
that concert impress the recollection of your appearance among us;
for in future years, when it shall be read what was presented on the
12th. April 1859 to the widows and orphans by the court orchestra of
Meiningen, it will be said: that was the day on which _Spohr_, the
master, wielded the conductor’s baton in our midst.”

A second journey undertaken shortly after by _Spohr_, was to the
pleasant little princely residence of Detmold, where he was again
welcomed by a grateful pupil, the director of music _Kiel_, and its
art-loving prince, in a similar manner as in Meiningen, with two
successive days of festivities in his honour. The proffered direction
of a grand concert solely embracing his own compositions he had
firmly declined, and as auditor could therefore give himself up more
completely to the enjoyment of his own excellently performed music,
two numbers of which in particular afforded him exceeding pleasure;
the performance namely by his former pupils _Kiel_ and concertmaster
_Bargheer_, who together executed his _A minor_ concertante, and
the symphony “Die Jahreszeiten”--a favorite and prominent point of
excellence with the court orchestra of Detmold--and which he had
especially chosen by a previously communicated request.

Returned once more to Cassel after a week happily passed in the
midst of the enjoyment of art and nature, _Spohr_ unhappily could no
longer conceal from himself, that even these short journeys were now
followed by many painful results, in the shape of a yet more increased
nervous restlessness at night--yet his spirit soon yearned again for
diversity and change of place, and especially towards his favorite
Alexandersbad, where he confidently hoped a longer stay in the fine air
of that locality would again induce an improvement in his health, and
particularly restore his sleep at night. Strengthened in this belief
by the opinion of his ever-sympathising and watchful medical attendant
Dr. Ad. _Harnier_, he set out for Alexandersbad, where he remained
some weeks. His health improved, and he passed better nights. But on
his return he visited Würzburg, and was present at the performance of
his “Letzte Dinge;” and this, and his reception, and the leave-taking,
made such an impression on him, that it went far to neutralize the
improvement in his health that had taken place at Alexandersbad.

His pleasure at hearing good music remained with him to the last, for
which reason he never missed a concert, and even frequently went to the
theatre, where above all things the music so dear to his heart--the
operas of _Mozart_--ever filled him anew with the fresh transports
of a youthful joy.--At home he passed the greater part of the day
in reading, but no longer as formerly in that of political journals
and instructive scientific works, which had excited and absorbed his
interest,--he now delighted rather in entertaining moral works, simple
novels that appealed to the heart, and the like, which for the time
distracted his attention from his suffering condition.--At frequent
intervals he would request his wife to play something to him, and
herein he would shew a preference for the pianoforte music of _Bach_
and _Mendelssohn_, yet without withdrawing his interest from the
productions of more modern composers.

A pleasing diversion in the uniform sameness of his everyday life,
was afforded to him in the first days of October by a visit to the
princess _Anna_, wife of prince _Frederick_, the heir apparent to the
Hessian throne, at the express invitation of that princess, during
a residence of some days at Cassel in the Bellevue palace. Upon his
return he related with feelings of pleasure the amiable anticipatory
attentions of the princess, who, in consideration of _Spohr’s_
greater convenience, had descended with her husband and child, prince
_Wilhelm_, then five years old, to an apartment on the ground-floor,
where he was received, and where after a lengthened pleasing
conversation with the princely pair, she, at the conclusion, besought
him with the most winning kindliness of manner, to write a few lines
by way of souvenir in her album. In satisfaction of this request, on
the 7th. October, he wrote, though indeed with a weak and tremulous
hand, yet with his usual readiness, a particularly requested passage of
the well-known duett in “Jessonda,” in the costly album that had been
forwarded to his house.

On Sunday the 16th. October, a change, at first scarcely observable,
evinced itself in his condition: an expression of calm contentment
such as not had been seen for a long time, settled on his features; in
spite of the preceding restless night, of the obvious continual bodily
sufferings and increasing debility no more complainings were heard to
fall from his lips; yet he was more than usually silent, and though he
replied in a kind tone to every inquiry adressed to him, it was as
short as possible. In the afternoon, on rising from the dinner-table,
he stood for a long time at the open door of the house, musing as he
gazed upon the rich autumnal beauties of his flower-garden,--but upon
the proposition of his wife to take his coffee outside under the bower,
he replied, that he wished to take it that day in his room, and that
she with her sister would play something to him. This of course was
with pleasure immediately complied with. After he had listened to some
symphonies arranged for four hands,--apparently as though half-lost in
a dream, yet as might be inferred from many remarks that fell from him,
with much attention, he requested further by way of conclusion, his
newest quintet (Op. 144, _G-minor_) with the piano-forte arrangement
of which for four hands he had but shortly before become acquainted;
to this also he listened with full interest and obvious satisfaction.
After the last theme he inquired: “How long ago may it be that I
wrote that?” and when his wife, who could not immediately remember
the year, replied it might be perhaps three or four years ago,--he
said with a sigh: “Then _there_ I did still succeed in effecting it!
and now I can no longer do so!” With these words he rose from his
chair, to prepare for his customary evening walk to the reading rooms,
which, despite all his weakness and some admonitions from his wife, he
nevertheless slowly, and supported by her, still persevered in. But
feeling exceedingly anxious at home respecting him, she despatched a
devotedly attached servant to see after him, much earlier than he had
been ordered to bring him back: upon which, in a condition of extreme
debility, he immediately permitted himself to be led home, and shortly
after his frugal supper to be put to bed. After the usual parting
evening kiss, he said to his wife: “he hoped from being so tired he
should at length have a _good night’s rest_,”--and thereupon sank
into a soft slumber from which he did not awake till the next morning
and then with a cheerful mien. He had found the much-desired repose,
he felt no longer any bodily suffering, the serene expression of his
countenance betokened it from that moment to his last breath! To rise
he refused; neither would he take breakfast; but requested his wife to
sit on the bed beside him; took her hand, and kissed it tenderly, with
an affectionate expression in his kindly beaming eyes that spoke to her
more eloquently than could a thousand words. Shortly afterwards his
attentive physician arrived, and immediately perceived that a higher
power had granted to him the long-desired rest. His family was already
prepared for the approaching heart-rending separation. His children and
nephews, near and distant friends, hastened to his couch, all desirous
to look as long as possible on his loved and honoured face, each glad
to snatch one look more from his truthful loving eyes! In this manner
he lay, surrounded by all that were most dear to him in life, in calm
repose; from day to day with decreasing consciousness of existence;
in spirit mayhap, already appertaining to a higher world,--until the
evening of the 22nd. Oct. (1859), when at half-past ten his weary eyes
closed for ever!----

The pious tones which once with a holy inspiration had gushed from
the pure fount of his soul--tones to which he had himself listened in
silent devotion but a few weeks before,--resounded now in mourning
over his grave; and sad and sorrowful, though at the same time sweetly
consolatory, still echo far and wide to the hearts of all:

 “Blessed are the dead, who die in the Lord, now and for ever. They
 repose from their labours, and their works follow them!”

  ~Finis.~




Alphabetical list of the most notable persons, adverted to in the two
volumes.

                                        Page

  Beethoven                      I. 184, 199

  Bott, Jean               II. 232, 313, 336

  Boucher                             II. 68

  Catalani                            II. 25

  Cherubini                          II. 133

  Clementi                             I. 39

  Curschmann                    II. 158, 161

  Dingelstedt                        II. 211

  Dussek                           I. 79, 86

  Eck                                  I. 13

  Feska                          I. 193, 225

  Field                                I. 40

  Goethe                         I. 102, 116

  Grabbe                             II. 190

  Grund, Edward                 II. 103, 336

  Hauptmann, Moritz      I. 169 II. 137, 241

  Hesse, Adolph            II. 196, 209, 299

  Hermstedt    I. 123, 140, 156, 159 II. 135

  Hiller, Ferdinand                  II. 324

  Holmes, Alfred and Henry           II. 320

  von Humboldt, Alex.                II. 269

  Immermann                          II. 189

  Joachim                  II. 278, 289, 317

  Kömpel, Augustus                   II. 300

  Körner, Theodor                     I. 177

  Kreutzer              I. 250, II. 108, 119

  Laube, Heinrich                    II. 277

  Liszt, Franz                  II. 239, 271

  Mendelssohn         II. 189, 210, 277, 290

  Methfessel                          II. 59

  Meyerbeer         I. 80, 312, II. 266, 270

  Molique                             I. 212

  Moscheles                     II. 294, 313

  Müller, Brothers                   II. 228

  Napoleon                            I. 117

  Owen, Professor                    II. 304

  Ole Bull                           II. 213

  Paganini                   I. 279, II. 168

  Pott, Augustus                II. 262, 273

  Prutz, Robert                      II. 278

  von Raumer                           II. 2

  Raupach                            II. 184

  Ries, Ferdinand                II. 75, 161

  Ries, Hubert                       II. 269

  Rochlitz               I. 75, II. 159, 186

  Rode                            I. 61, 161

  Romberg, Andreas               I. 135, 210

  Romberg, Bernard                     I. 78

  Schmidt, Aloys                      I. 159

  Schumann, Robert              II. 210, 296

  Schwenke                            I. 135

  Spontini                           II. 156

  Taylor, Prof., Ed.       II. 216, 249, 253

  Tiek, Ludwig                       II. 269

  Wagner, Richard               II. 245, 276

  von Weber, C. Maria            I. 109, 140

  Wichmann, Professor                II. 269

  Wieland                        I. 102, 116

  Winter                              I. 105




       *       *       *       *       *




Transcriber's Note


Note 8 on volume 1 p. 114 refers to a fac-simile appended to the
volume; this was not included in the printed book.

The book contains many instances of inconsistent, archaic or doubtful
spelling, hyphenation and punctuation. These have been left as printed,
except as follows:

Volume 1

p. vi "1846" changed to "1846."

p. 9 "thoughtless" changed to "thoughtless."

p. 11 "tome" changed to "to me"

p. 14 "nothwithstanding" changed to "notwithstanding"

p. 18 "rythm" changed to "rhythm"

p. 19 "by not" changed to "by no"

p. 21 "priviledges" changed to "privileges"

p. 33 "sucessful" changed to "successful"

p. 34 "fond off" changed to "fond of"

p. 34 "_Eck_" changed to "_Eck’s_"

p. 34 "heard" changed to "heart"

p. 36 "und" changed to "and"

p. 37 "immediately.”" changed to "immediately."

p. 38 "demand.”" changed to "demand."

p. 40 "to my" changed to "to me"

p. 42 "owerwhelmed" changed to "overwhelmed"

p. 42 "23^{th}" changed to "23^{rd}"

p. 43 "who was" changed to "how was"

p. 43 "musisal" changed to "musical"

p. 43 "time.”" changed to "time."

p. 45 "its found" changed to "it is found"

p. 46 "intruments" changed to "instruments"

p. 47 "twelvth" changed to "twelfth"

p. 48 "idea of." The" changed to "idea of. "The"

p. 52 "gate.”" changed to "gate."

p. 54 "city." "Near" changed to "city. Near"

p. 56 "on prepare" changed to "or prepare"

p. 61 "“I alighted" changed to "I alighted"

p. 61 "journey." changed to "journey.”"

p. 68 "escasped" changed to "escaped"

p. 76 "ingenousness" changed to "ingenuousness"

p. 78 "now appreciate" changed to "nor appreciate"

p. 80 "aminadverted" changed to "animadverted"

p. 84 "anounced" changed to "announced"

p. 86 "exercice" changed to "exercise"

p. 90 "_Preissling_" changed to "_Preissing_"

p. 93 "exulpation" changed to "exculpation"

p. 99 "distateful" changed to "distasteful"

p. 101 "Heriditary" changed to "Hereditary"

p. 107 "particulary" changed to "particularly"

p. 110 "impelled so" changed to "impelled to"

p. 111 "pricipal" changed to "principal"

p. 115 "(the Owlet-Queen)" changed to "(the Owlet-Queen),"

p. 117 "mort" changed to "more"

p. 127 "would he" changed to "would be"

p. 131 "childern" changed to "children"

p. 141 "„This" changed to "“This"

p. 145 "superority" changed to "superiority"

p. 146 "inwhich" changed to "in which"

p. 146 "board. "The" changed to "board. The"

p. 149 "Op, 114" changed to "Op. 114"

p. 157 "tentency" changed to "tendency"

p. 160 "other.”" changed to "other."

p. 164 "It is difficult”" changed to "“It is difficult”"

p. 164 "of te" changed to "of the"

p. 165 "introdued" changed to "introduced"

p. 168 "rupturous" changed to "rapturous"

p. 168 "suceeded" changed to "succeeded"

p. 168 "distinghuish" changed to "distinguish"

p. 169 "wat not" changed to "was not"

p. 172 "not be" changed to "not to be"

p. 175 "to to whom" changed to "to whom"

p. 181 "servant." changed to "servant.”"

p. 189 "scarely" changed to "scarcely"

p. 201 "_Pixis_." changed to "_Pixis_?”"

p. 207 "nolodge" changed to "no lodge"

p. 208 "“ In Hanover" changed to " “In Hanover"

p. 209 "oppointed" changed to "appointed"

p. 213 "execuiton" changed to "execution"

p. 216 "arduousex ertion" changed to "arduous exertion"

p. 222 "slighest" changed to "slightest"

p. 223 "“Zauberflöte" changed to "“Zauberflöte”"

p. 225 "seperates" changed to "separates"

p. 227 "slighest" changed to "slightest"

p. 229 "on Overture" changed to "an Overture"

p. 229 "an account" changed to "on account"

p. 230 (note) "than" changed to "then"

p. 233 "possesion" changed to "possession"

p. 236 "pratical" changed to "practical"

p. 239 "along" changed to "a long"

p. 242 "precipituously" changed to "precipitously"

p. 243 "deligthful" changed to "delightful"

p. 244 "the the singer" changed to "the singer"

p. 249 "reheasal" changed to "rehearsal"

p. 249 "accomodation" changed to "accommodation"

p. 251 "continous" changed to "continuous"

p. 251 "immediatly" changed to "immediately"

p. 252 "disstance" changed to "distance"

p. 254 "one- horse" changed to "one-horse"

p. 256 "oramented" changed to "ornamented"

p. 263 "age But" changed to "age. But"

p. 264 "hears" changed to "hear"

p. 266 "trough" changed to "through"

p. 266 "here appearance" changed to "her appearance"

p. 271 "moltey" changed to "motley"

p. 279 "the sepaintings" changed to "these paintings"

p. 282 "artist." changed to "artist.”"

p. 285 "arstists" changed to "artists"

p. 315 "indifference and and" changed to "indifference and"

p. 319 "farces" changed to "forces"

p. 319 "pur" changed to "our"

p. 319 "wetnessed" changed to "witnessed"

p. 320 "agitity" changed to "agility"

p. 320 "handscapes" changed to "landscapes"

p. 320 "asscended" changed to "ascended"

p. 324 "und" changed to "and"

p. 325 "unformity" changed to "uniformity"

p. 327 "who where" changed to "who were"

Volume 2

p. 4 "were" changed to "where"

p. 8 "inmortal" changed to "immortal"

p. 9 "a a hermitage" changed to "a hermitage"

p. 13 "through" changed to "though"

p. 14 "penally" changed to "penalty"

p. 15 "defiency" changed to "deficiency"

p. 18 "very" changed to "every"

p. 18 "At it is" changed to "As it is"

p. 18 "smooth-smoken" changed to "smooth-spoken"

p. 21 "others town" changed to "other towns"

p. 21 "excellents" changed to "excellent"

p. 23 "During" changed to "“During"

p. 26 "midle" changed to "middle"

p. 28 "breath" changed to "breathe"

p. 30 "byancient" changed to "by ancient"

p. 33 "neighourhood" changed to "neighbourhood"

p. 35 "then in" changed to "them in"

p. 38 "he so-called" changed to "the so-called"

p. 39 "strubs" changed to "shrubs"

p. 46 "composors" changed to "composers"

p. 47 "apointment" changed to "appointment"

p. 51 "journey" changed to "journey."

p. 54 "the the saloon" changed to "the saloon"

p. 54 "asme" changed to "same"

p. 62 "silly mistake!”" changed to "silly mistake!"

p. 63 "possiblity" changed to "possibility"

p. 64 "suceeded" changed to "succeeded"

p. 67 "soi" changed to "soli"

p. 69 "irrevalent" changed to "irrelevant"

p. 73 "right hand-pier" changed to "right-hand pier"

p. 74 "in in open" changed to "in open"

p. 75 "waistcoast" changed to "waistcoat"

p. 76 "councilwas" changed to "council was"

p. 79 "anguish and and" changed to "anguish and"

p. 81 "could" changed to "she could"

p. 88 "renumeration" changed to "remuneration"

p. 89 "frendly" changed to "friendly"

p. 92 "miles of" changed to "miles off"

p. 96 "could fail" changed to "could not fail"

p. 100 "&c." changed to "&c.”"

p. 106 "exculpate himself" changed to "exculpate myself"

p. 108 "nothwithstanding" changed to "notwithstanding"

p. 109 "proproduced" changed to "produced"

p. 111 "verything" changed to "everything"

p. 129 "mechancali" changed to "mechanical"

p. 133 "_Bethoven_" changed to "_Beethoven_"

p. 134 "journy" changed to "journey"

p. 136 "deel" changed to "deal"

p. 137 "or my" changed to "on my"

p. 143 "aknowledged" changed to "acknowledged"

p. 145 "the the court-orchestra" changed to "the court-orchestra"

p. 147 "draw" changed to "drawn"

p. 151 (note) "carying" changed to "carrying"

p. 153 "written" changed to "written by"

p. 153 "charactesised" changed to "characterised"

p. 154 "kettle-druns" changed to "kettle-drums"

p. 155 "nevetherless" changed to "nevertheless"

p. 155 "torch-ight-dance" changed to "torch-light-dance"

p. 157 "“Der Berg-Geist, "which" changed to "“Der Berg-Geist," which"

p. 157 "23th" changed to "23rd"

p. 159 "ecclestiastic" changed to "ecclesiastic"

p. 160 "cross-which" changed to "cross--which"

p. 160 "others." changed to "others.”"

p. 164 "as all" changed to "at all"

p. 167 "be introduced" changed to "he introduced"

p. 169 "informing then" changed to "informing them"

p. 169 "disturbancees" changed to "disturbances"

p. 171 "peasanty" changed to "peasantry"

p. 171 "the the song" changed to "the song"

p. 171 "Messiah.”" changed to "Messiah."

p. 176 (note) "A fit" changed to "“A fit"

p. 178 "Although" changed to "“Although"

p. 181 "artifical" changed to "artificial"

p. 185 "Op 91" changed to "Op. 91"

p. 185 "unsually" changed to "unusually"

p. 189 "were I" changed to "where I"

p. 190 "sister-in law" changed to "sister-in-law"

p. 190 "bathing-etablishment" changed to "bathing-establishment"

p. 194 "3nd" changed to "3rd"

p. 201 "endeavours so" changed to "endeavours to"

p. 202 "an Whittuesday" changed to "on Whittuesday"

p. 202 (note) "restess" changed to "restless"

p. 202 (note) "It is" changed to "“It is"

p. 203 "dicision" changed to "decision"

p. 205 "suprise" changed to "surprise"

p. 209 "23nd" changed to "23rd"

p. 212 "...," changed to "...."

p. 213 "sacrifies" changed to "sacrifices"

p. 217 "Of _such_" changed to "“Of _such_"

p. 218 (note) "expenses." changed to "expenses.”"

p. 222 "moved And" changed to "moved. And"

p. 222 "pevailed" changed to "prevailed"

p. 228 "fellows" changed to "follows"

p. 228 "charmed us.”" changed to "charmed us."

p. 230 "loves" changed to "love’s"

p. 233 "manner." changed to "manner.”"

p. 235 "festival.”" changed to "festival."

p. 237 "uniniated" changed to "uninitiated"

p. 241 "_Spohr’s_," changed to "_Spohr’s_"

p. 249 "genins" changed to "genius"

p. 249 "frienads" changed to "friends"

p. 256 "treatment." changed to "treatment.”"

p. 259 "arival" changed to "arrival"

p. 262 "such a" changed to "such as"

p. 265 "prejudical" changed to "prejudicial"

p. 270 "_Meyerber_" changed to "_Meyerbeer_"

p. 273 "concert to" changed to "concerto"

p. 276 "contemptated" changed to "contemplated"

p. 280 "alhough" changed to "although"

p. 282 "successsion" changed to "succession"

p. 282 "nonimating" changed to "nominating"

p. 287 "by foce" changed to "by force"

p. 287 "someting" changed to "something"

p. 295 "medicial" changed to "medical"

p. 298 "very kind" changed to "every kind"

p. 301 "classes" changed to "glasses"

p. 311 "favourable" changed to "favourably"

p. 317 "Terrestial" changed to "Terrestrial"

p. 331 "he carried" changed to "be carried"

p. 333 "warmth.”" changed to "warmth."

p. 339 "particulary" changed to "particularly"

p. 339 "allendant" changed to "attendant"








End of Project Gutenberg's Louis Spohr's Autobiography, by Louis Spohr