“Feel quite stupid from exhaustion and constant travelling. I could stand no more, if it were not for the thought of my departure to-morrow, which buoys me up. I am inundated with requests for my autograph. At 12.30 I went over to Z.’s and wrote the testimonial, omitting the phrase which ranks these pianos as the first. Went home and waited for the composer Brummklein. He came and played me some very pretty things.
“May 8th (20th).
“The old librettist came. I was very sorry to have to tell him I could not compose an opera to his libretto. He seemed very sad. Scarcely had he gone before Dannreuther came in to take me to the rehearsal of the Quartets and Trios to be played this evening at the Composers’ Club. It was rather a long distance. The Quartet was indifferently played and the Trio really badly, for the pianist, a shy, nervous man, was no good: he could not even count. I had no time to make any preparations for the journey. Drove to Renos’. They received me with more kindness and cordiality than ever, especially Madame Reno and her three daughters. The eldest (Anna, who is married) gave me a beautiful cigar-case, M. Reno a quantity of scent, and Alice and her sister cakes for the journey. Then I hurried to Hyde’s. Mrs. Hyde was already expecting me. Here too I was received with great kindness and sincere enthusiasm. At last I got home to pack my box. Hateful business, which gave me a dreadful pain in my back. Tired out, I went over to Mayer’s, and invited him to dinner at Martelli’s. At eight o’clock I was taken to the Composers’ Club. This is not a club of composers, as I first thought, but a special musical union which arranges, from time to time, evenings devoted to the works of one composer. Yesterday was devoted to me, and the concert was held in the magnificent Metropolitan House. I sat in the first row. They played the Quartet (E flat minor) and the Trio; some songs were very well sung, but the programme was too long. In the middle of the evening I received an address; I answered shortly, in French; of course an ovation. One lady threw an exquisite bouquet of roses straight in my face. I was introduced to a crowd of people, among others our Consul-General. At the conclusion I had to speak to about a hundred people and distribute a hundred autographs. I reached home half dead with fatigue. As the steamer left at five o’clock in the morning, I had to go on board that night, so I dressed with all speed, and packed my things while Reno and Mayer waited for me. Downstairs we drank two bottles of champagne. I said good-bye to the servants of the hotel and drove off to the steamer. The drive was very long. The steamer is quite as fine as the Bretagne; I have an officer’s cabin. On this ship the officers are allowed to let their cabins, but they ask an exorbitant price. I had to pay 300 dollars (1,500 francs) for mine.... But it is really nice and very roomy. I said good-bye to my dear American friends and went straight to bed. I slept badly and heard all the noise when the steamer started at five o’clock. I came out of my cabin as we passed the statue of Freedom.”
Altogether Tchaikovsky gave six concerts in America: four in New York, one in Baltimore, and one in Philadelphia. The following works were performed: (1) The Coronation March, (2) Third Suite, (3) two Sacred Choruses: the Lord’s Prayer and the Legend, (4) Pianoforte Concerto No. 1, and (5) Serenade for string instruments.
I have before me sixteen American Press notices of Tchaikovsky, and all are written in a tone of unqualified praise; the only difference lies in the degree of enthusiasm expressed. According to some he is “the first of modern composers after Wagner”; according to others, “one of the first.” His talent as a conductor is equally praised. Everywhere he had an unprecedented success, and many spoke of his interesting appearance. The interviews (especially those in The New York Herald) are reproduced with astonishing fidelity. As we read them we can almost fancy we can hear the voice of Tchaikovsky himself.
XIII
“‘Prince Bismarck,’ May 9th (21st).
“On account of the maddening pain in my back, I dressed with great difficulty, went below for my morning tea, and then walked about the ship to make myself better acquainted with the various quarters. A host of passengers, but of totally different appearance to those who travelled with me on the Bretagne. The most perceptible difference lies in the fact that there are no emigrants. At eight a.m. I was called to breakfast. My place had already been allotted to me. I had a middle-aged man for my neighbour, who immediately began to converse. Slept the whole morning. The sight of the sea leaves me indifferent. I think with horror of the rest of the journey, but also with longing: may it soon be over. This is a very fast ship; it is the magnificent new Prince Bismarck, and is making its first passage. Last week it only took six days and fourteen hours from Hamburg to New York. I trust we shall get over the horrible distance as quickly. The motion is not so smooth as that of the Bretagne. The weather is splendid just now. At breakfast I became better acquainted with my vis-à-vis. It is difficult to say to what nationality he belongs, as he speaks all languages wonderfully well; perhaps he is a Jew, so I told him on purpose the story of the importunate Jew. He lives in Dresden, and is a wholesale tobacco dealer. He has already discovered who I am. If he speaks the truth, he heard me conduct in New York; anyway, he improves on acquaintance. I have got so accustomed to talking in New York that, in spite of my preference for silence, I can stand his society without being bored. I am astonished to find I sleep so much. In the evening, soon after dinner, I was so overcome that I went to bed at ten o’clock and slept straight on until seven the next morning. Nothing particular happened during the day. A Mr. Aronson and his young wife introduced themselves to me. He is the proprietor of the Casino Theatre (favoured by Von Bülow), as I discovered by means of an autograph album which was sent to me that I might write my name and a few lines in it. Schröder, the man who attends to my cabin, is a good-natured young German; at table also there are two nice German stewards—this is very important for me. I am pleased with the ship, the cabin, and the food. As there are no emigrants I can walk on the lower deck; this is very pleasant, as I meet no first-class passengers there and can be quiet.
“May 11th (23rd).
“I keep very much to myself and, thanks to my splendid cabin, in which there is plenty of room to move about, I feel much freer than on the Bretagne. I only use the drawing-room in the morning when no one is there. There is a nice Steinway grand, and not at all a bad musical library, including a few of my own productions. The day is divided as follows: Dress, ring my bell, and Schröder brings me a cup of tea; first breakfast, eight o’clock; walk on the lower deck, work, read. By work I mean the sketches for my next Symphony. At twelve o’clock the gong sounds for second breakfast.... I am reading a book by Tatistchev, Alexandre et Napoléon.