Not only was the trio miserably sung, but the chorus missed its entry and never came in at all!
I need hardly say that, after paying expenses, including the chorus that held its tongue in such a masterly manner, I was completely cleaned out.
However, the concert was a most useful lesson to me.
Not only did I become known to artists and public, which (pace Cherubini!) was a necessity, but, by doggedly facing the innumerable difficulties of a composer, I gained most valuable experience.
Several of the papers praised me, and even Fétis—Fétis, who afterwards[4] ... spoke of me, in a drawing-room, as a coming man.
But what of Miss Smithson?
Alas! I found out that, absorbed in her own engrossing work, of me and my concert she never heard a whisper!
To Humbert Ferrand.
“6th June 1828.—Are you parched with anxiety to know the result of my concert? I have only waited in order to send you the papers too. Triumphant success! After the applause at the general rehearsals of Friday and Saturday I had no more misgivings.
“Our beloved Pastoral was ruined by the chorus that only found out it had not come in just as the whole thing finished. But oh, the Resurrexit! and oh, the applause! As soon as one round finished another began until, being unable to stand it all, I doubled up on the kettle-drum and cried hard.