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.
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.