To M. Tchaikovsky.
“Tiflis, April 23rd (May 5th), 1886.
“Modi,—I only remain a few days longer in Tiflis. I could count this month the happiest in my life, if it were not for the visitors, and for my social existence. I do not think I have yet written to you of the honour paid me on the 19th. It was simply splendid. At eight o’clock, accompanied by Pani,[113] I entered the Director’s box, which was decorated with flowers and foliage. The whole theatre rose, and amid great applause I was presented with a silver wreath and many others. A deputation from the Musical Society read an address. Then the concert began, which consisted entirely of my works. There were endless cheers! I have never experienced anything like it before. After the concert, a subscription supper, with many toasts. A most exhausting evening, but a glorious remembrance.”
This was the first great honour in Tchaikovsky’s life, and made a most agreeable impression on him, as proving the recognition of his merit by the Russian nation. Tchaikovsky, in the depths of his heart, was well aware that fame would eventually come, and that he would be worthy of it. He did not realise, however, that what he had already created was as worthy of fame as what he should create in the future. He knew, indeed, that the popularity of his name had greatly increased in the last few years, but he was still far from suspecting the truth. The honour paid him in Tiflis revealed to him his real relation to the Russian public. This revelation was so pleasing to his artistic vanity that it overcame for a moment his characteristic timidity and his dislike of posing before the public.
IX
Just at this time Tchaikovsky had to travel to Paris on important family business. He wished also to take this opportunity of making acquaintance with his Paris publisher, Mackar. To avoid the fatigue of the wearisome railway journey, he thought of taking the steamer from Batoum to Italy, thence by train to France. But owing to cholera at Naples, the French steamer belonging to the Batoum-Marseilles line did not call at the Italian port. Tchaikovsky therefore gave up his idea of visiting Italy, and took a through ticket for Marseilles by one of the steamers of the “Packet Company.”
To A. Tchaikovsky.
“Steamship ‘Armenia,’ May 3rd (15th), 1886.
“ ... I am feeling less home-sick to-day, and better able to enjoy the sea, the mountains, and the sun ... but how stupid it is, that one can only be alone in one’s cabin! On deck, scarcely a quarter of an hour passes without someone beginning a conversation. I know all the passengers already, but have not taken to anyone. The captain talks to me about music, and enrages me by his stupid opinions. A Frenchman, a doctor from Trebizond, also sets up to be a lover of music, and thinks it his duty—now he has discovered I am a musician—to talk to me about this detestable art, which seems to possess the quality of interesting everybody....”
To A. Tchaikovsky.