Richard Lepsius, a biography

by Georg Ebers

But such distinguished visitors were the exception: their large and inspiring circle of acquaintances was almost exclusively composed of the leaders of the Berlin literati. When there was no company in the evening, and Lepsius was not attending any of the societies of which we shall have to speak, he played chess, and liked to have his wife play on the piano at the same time. Often too there were “musical evenings” in which both husband and wife took part, together with guests, like Hermann Grimm and others, who were not members. In the winter of 1852-53, a numerous company assembled nearly every week at the Lepsius house. On the seventh of April we hear of their giving a large ball. “The Old Guard comes to the front,” writes Frau Elizabeth. “Even I resolved to dance again after an interval of eight years. At first it seemed strange to me to be whirling round, but by degrees I took pleasure in it again, especially in dancing with Richard, who was really a very delightful host. It is so charming in him,—the way in which he does everything that he has to do with his whole heart and without any reserve, whether it be grave or gay.”

The pleasures of this winter were soon brought to an end, for the mistress of the house lost her dearest friend, and in April died the excellent father of the master of the house. The affliction of Lepsius was great.

“Of all the family his father was nearest to him,” says Frau Elizabeth. “He always felt the greatest delight and the most genuine sympathy in everything that concerned Richard, in all his labors, his successes, his honors; with him Richard could talk freely of all his intellectual interests, for he understood all abstruse questions, and had, besides, the strongest paternal feeling; delighted in our children, etc.... Richard thinks now with every book that when he has written it, he can no longer give his father pleasure by sending it to him.”

A quiet season followed, and in their domestic retirement during the ensuing months they made some experiments at table-tipping, according to the current fashion at that time. They were very successful, and the enthusiasm of the mistress of the house and her interest in the supernatural were strongly excited; Lepsius himself treated the subject more coolly. “Richard, Abeken and Edward saw that we lifted up our hands by degrees, and yet the table moved; but, because it did not do so again, Richard thinks we had deceived ourselves.”

When at last the formal mourning was laid aside, and life again imposed its demands upon the Lepsiuses, the remembrance of the festival of 1852-53, formed the foundation for many charming performances, whose theatre was to be the new house which the married pair were about to build.

In October, 1853, the family had received notice to quit their dwelling in Behren Street, on account of the sale of the property, and they had therefore resolved to build a home of their own. With the same enthusiasm with which she threw herself into everything, Frau Elizabeth became interested in the carrying out of this idea, and, scale in hand, drew plan after plan, until she at last completed a design which met with the approval of her husband and his friends the architects, especially Erbkam. In fact it provided for all the family needs; but the choice of a building site was difficult. Lepsius at first fixed his eye upon the great Seeger lumber yard, which was at that time on the drill ground, now the Royal Square. It was then just about to be divided up, but the lots there were so dear, and the owner felt so confident of the purchase of the whole plot by the Treasury, that Lepsius was forced to look about for another situation. Long weeks passed in this search, and, among other strangers, the Lepsiuses received Oscar von Redwitz, before breaking up housekeeping for the summer to go with some intimate friends on a journey to Lübeck. The diary says of him: “He is the poet of the sentimental-religious Catholic Amaranth, which is so much read, (though not by us), and admired. He is a lively young Viennese, naïve, but not at all sentimental, so that he is better than his work.” The future undoubtedly proved that this talented poet was capable of things far more charming than what were at that time his most celebrated works.

The wife and children passed the rest of the summer in beautiful Friedrichroda, Elgersburg and Ilmenau in Thüringia, while the husband went to Schlieffenberg in Mecklenburg, whither he had been invited by Count Schlieffen, who had traveled through Egypt intelligently and with open eyes and who had brought home with him a Nubian from the neighborhood of the Cataract. As we know, Lepsius made use of this African, named ‘Ali’, who was an intelligent man and had entire command of his own language, to supply many deficiencies in the Nubian grammar, at which he still continued to work.

In January, 1854, the Berlin Academy of Sciences had resolved to have type cast for printing Lepsius’ standard alphabet, and before the beginning of February, he traveled once more to London in order to assure the acceptance of it on the other side of the Channel. The well-known missionary Kölle had already declared that he should make use of it. While Lepsius was working there with tact and success to introduce his alphabet, his wife became the mother of a boy, who, after the father’s return, received the name of Bernard at a merry and delightful christening feast. This was the Christian name of Frau Lepsius’ father, the celebrated composer, B. Klein. Among the many god-parents of the child were A. v. Humboldt, the Counts von Schlieffen and von Usedom, Peters, etc. Frau Lepsius was especially pleased with the presence of Humboldt after the estrangement which had taken place between him and Lepsius, but the obliging manner in which he said to her: “I thank you especially for having had the kindness to give the child my name,” could not inspire her with any warmth of feeling. E. Curtius’ daughter, Dorothea, was baptized at the same time with little Bernard. She afterwards became the wife of Richard, the eldest son of the Lepsiuses. Jacob Grimm toasted the two children, and this time in a very poetical and delightful manner. In the course of the toast he compared the boy with hail, which descends roughly and impetuously, and the maiden with snow, which murmurs softly and gently down.

The spring was passed in searching for a building site and in pleasant social intercourse. On the twenty-fifth of May, 1854, they met Paul Heyse for the first time at Schott’s, and Frau Elizabeth wrote in her diary: “It is a long time since I have seen Richard so fascinated with anyone as he was with this young, animated, candid, handsome, excellent, enthusiastic, most lovable poet.”

Very painful to Lepsius was the downfall of his old patron and friend Bunsen, which occurred at this time. He had been offered the position of Minister of Ecclesiastical Affairs at Berlin, but in the beginning of ’54, while in London, he declared that in case of necessity Prussia would side with England. This set the King quite beside himself and General von Gröben was sent to London to reprimand Bunsen. The attempts at mediation of his son Ernest, whom he had sent to Berlin, were vain, and, in spite of the Prince of Prussia’s eager intercession for him, the Camarilla, and especially Gerlach and Manteuffel, had such strong influence over the King that he forsook his friend Bunsen, and permitted him to be dismissed.