“Mayer[157] was my first visitor. The cordial friendliness of this pleasant German astonished and touched me. For, being the head of a pianoforte firm, he had no interest in paying attentions to a musician who is not a pianist. Then a reporter appeared, and I was very thankful for Mayer’s presence. Many of his questions were very curious. Reno next arrived, bringing an interesting friend with him. Reno told me I was expected at the rehearsal. After we had got rid of the interviewer we went on foot to the music hall.[158] A magnificent building. We got to the rehearsal just at the end of Beethoven’s Fifth Symphony. Damrosch[159](who was conducting without his coat) appeared very pleasant. I wanted to speak to him at the finish of the Symphony, but had to wait and answer the cordial greetings of the orchestra. Damrosch made a little speech. More ovations. I could only rehearse the first and third movements of the First Suite. The orchestra is excellent. After the rehearsal I breakfasted with Mayer, who then took me up Broadway, helped me to buy a hat, presented me with a hundred cigarettes, showed me the very interesting Hoffman Bar, which is decorated with the most beautiful pictures, statues and tapestries, and finally brought me home. I lay down to rest, completely exhausted. Later on I dressed, for I was expecting Reno, who soon turned up. I tried to persuade him to let me give up Philadelphia and Baltimore, but he did not seem inclined to grant my request. He took me to his house and introduced me to his wife and daughters, who are very nice. Afterwards he went with me to Damrosch’s. A year ago Damrosch married the daughter of a very rich and distinguished man. They are a very agreeable couple. We sat down three to dinner. Then Damrosch took me to visit Carnegie,[160] the possessor of 30,000,000 dollars, who is very like our dramatist Ostrovsky. I was very much taken with the old man, especially as he is an admirer of Moscow, which he visited two years ago. Next to Moscow, he admires the national songs of Scotland, a great many of which Damrosch played to him on a magnificent Steinway grand. He has a young and pretty wife. After these visits I went with Hyde[161] and Damrosch to see the Athletic Club and another, more serious in tone, which I might perhaps compare with our English Club. The Athletic Club astonished me, especially the swimming bath, in which the members bathe, and the upper gallery, where they skate in winter. We ordered drinks in the serious club. I reached home about eleven o’clock. Needless to say, I was worn out.
“April 16th (28th).
“Slept very well. A messenger came from * * * * to know if I wanted anything. These Americans strike me as very remarkable, especially after the impression the Parisians left upon me: there politeness or amiability to a stranger always savoured of self-interest; whereas in this country the honesty, sincerity, generosity, cordiality, and readiness to help you without any arrière-pensée, is very pleasant. I like this, and most of the American ways and customs, yet I enjoy it all in the same spirit as a man who sits at a table laden with good things and has no appetite. My appetite will only come with the near prospect of my return to Russia.
“At eleven a.m. I went for a walk, and breakfasted in a very pretty restaurant. Home again by one o’clock and reflected a little. Reinhard,[162] an agreeable young man, came to take me to Mayer’s. On the way we turned into the Hoffman Bar. Saw Knabe’s warehouse. Mayer took me to a photographic studio. We went up by the lift to the ninth or tenth floor, where a little old man (the owner of the studio) received us in a red nightcap. I never came across such a droll fellow. He is a parody of Napoleon III. (very like the original, but a caricature of him). He turned me round and round while he looked for the best side of my face. Then he developed rather a tedious theory of the best side of the face and proceeded to experiment on Mayer. Finally I was photographed in every conceivable position, during which the old man entertained me with all kinds of mechanical toys. But, with all his peculiarities, he was pleasant and cordial in the American way. From the photographer I drove with Mayer to the park, which is newly laid out, but very beautiful. There was a crowd of smart ladies and carriages. We called for Mayer’s wife and daughter and continued our drive along the high bank of the Hudson. It became gradually colder, and the conversation with these good German-Americans wearied me. At last we stopped at the celebrated Restaurant Delmonico, and Mayer invited me to a most luxurious dinner, after which he and the ladies took me back to my hotel. I hurried into my dress-coat and waited for Mr. Hyde. Then, together with him and his wife, Damrosch, and Mr. and Mrs. Reno, we all went to a somewhat tedious concert at the great Opera House. We heard an oratorio, The Captivity, by the American composer Max Wagrich. Most wearisome. After this I wanted to go home, but the dear Hydes carried me off to supper at Delmonico’s. We ate oysters with a sauce of small turtles (!!!), and cheese. Champagne, and an iced peppermint drink, supported my failing courage. They brought me home at twelve o’clock. A telegram from Botkin summoning me to Washington.
“April 17th (29th).
“Passed a restless night. After my early tea I wrote letters. Then I sauntered through Fifth Avenue. What palaces! Breakfasted alone at home. Went to Mayer’s. The kindness and attentiveness of this man are simply wonderful. According to Paris custom, I try to discover what he wants to get out of me. But I can think of nothing. Early this morning he sent Reinhard to me again, in case I wanted anything, and I was very glad of his help, for I did not know what to do about the telegram from Washington. By three o’clock I was at home, waiting for William de Sachs, a very amiable and elegant gentleman, who loves music and writes about it. He was still here when my French friends from the steamer arrived. I was very glad to see them and we went out together to have some absinthe. When I got back I rested for a while. At seven o’clock Hyde and his wife called for me. What a pity it is that words and colours fail me to describe this most original couple, who are so extremely kind and friendly! The language in which we carry on our conversation is very amusing; it consists of the queerest mixture of English, French and German. Every word which Hyde utters in our conversation is the result of an extraordinary intellectual effort: literally a whole minute passes before there emerges, from an indefinite murmur, some word so weird-sounding that it is impossible to tell to which of the three languages it belongs. All the time Hyde and his wife have such a serious, yet good-natured air. I accompanied them to Reno’s, who was giving a big dinner in my honour. The ladies—all in full evening dress. The table decorated with flowers. At each lady’s place lay a bunch of flowers, while the men had lilies-of-the-valley, which we put in our buttonholes as soon as we were seated at table. Each lady had also a little picture of myself in a pretty frame. The dinner began at half-past seven, and was over at eleven. I am not exaggerating when I say this, for it is the custom here. It is impossible to describe all the courses. In the middle of the dinner ices were served in little cases, to which were attached small slates with pencils and sponges, on which fragments from my works were beautifully inscribed. I had to write my autograph on these slates. The conversation was very lively. I sat between Mrs. Reno and Mrs. Damrosch. The latter is a most charming and graceful woman. Opposite to me sat Carnegie, the admirer of Moscow, and the possessor of forty million dollars. His likeness to Ostrovsky is astonishing. Tormented by the want of a smoke, and almost ill with over-eating, I determined about eleven o’clock to ask Mrs. Reno’s permission to leave the table. Half an hour later we all took our leave.”
To V. Davidov.
“New York, April 18th (30th), 1891.
“Have just received my letters. It is impossible to say how precious these are under the present circumstances. I was unspeakably glad. I make copious entries every day in my diary and, on my return, you shall each have it to read in turn, so I will not go into details now. New York, American customs, American hospitality—all their comforts and arrangements—everything, in fact, is to my taste. If only I were younger I should very much enjoy my visit to this interesting and youthful country. But now, I just tolerate everything as if it were a slight punishment mitigated by many pleasant things. All my thoughts, all my aspirations, tend towards Home, Home!!! I am convinced that I am ten times more famous in America than in Europe. At first, when others spoke about it to me, I thought it was only their exaggerated amiability. But now I see that it really is so. Several of my works, which are unknown even in Moscow, are frequently played here. I am a much more important person here than in Russia. Is not that curious?”
Diary.